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surielstea · 4 months

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Ruined Ice

Pairing: hockey!Azriel x figure skater!Reader (fem)

Summary: Az shows up early for practice and catches reader in the middle of her program, rutting up the fresh ice.

Warnings: cursing | name calling | fluff

A/N: Guys I know nothing about hockey or figure skating so please don’t come for me if some of this is wrong lmao 😭

2.3k words

The blades on the bottoms of my skates could cut through steel they were so sharp. I had made the mistake of running my thumb pad across the toepick and nicked my skin, no bigger than a paper cut but I barely even touched the metal before blood began to bead at where it had made contact.

My mood, however, was improved to its full extent when I stepped onto the ice and realized it was untouched.

I beam wildly as I begin to glide on my smooth blades around the rink, beginning my warm-ups and leaving light trails with every move I make.

Warming up took a quarter of my rented time in the rink, and the next two quarters were spent practicing my program. The state tournament was close, and approaching all too fast. My coach wasn’t able to make it tonight, yet he practically ordered me to practice anyway. I wasn't complaining, well I had been, but on this fresh ice with the cold wind nipping at my cheeks in an empty rink, I had never been more at peace.

That was the case, at least until the Hockey Players began showing up for their practices. I still had fifteen minutes left of ice time but none other than the infamous Azriel Teller was lacing up his skates on the sidelines, staring at me as I went through my routine, doing my best to ignore his gaze.

It was hard though, the man was so damned observant and I swore I could feel his eyes tracking me across the ice.

I finish my routine in my final pose, heavy breaths escaping me as I let the stance fall and I go back to my phone on the side of the wall where I can restart my music.

My phone that happened to be right in front of Azriel.

I ignored his stare and kept my eyes on the wall, making sure to go slow, knowing my freshly sharpened skates would force me straight into the wall if I went any faster.

I grab my phone with cold hands but before I even get the chance to unlock it, the male in front of me speaks up.

"You're ruining the ice," He hums and I look up from my phone, glaring at him, silently asking him if he was serious.

"Your whole team ruts up the ice every chance you get, don't start," I wave him off, scrolling through my phone to find a song to cool down to since my ice time was coming to an end.

"We rut the ice? You and your fancy twirls practically make holes straight through," He defends and I wince because I knew he was right. Especially since my skates were extra sharp tonight.

"It's not my fault you can't evade them like some bad skater," I taunt, picking a song and letting it blast over the speakers to drown him out as I skate away.

Calling Azriel a bad skater was absurd, he must've been the fastest on the ice when compared to the rest of his team, not to mention his accuracy when it came to scoring goals was outmatched. I had heard from Feyre— my best friend who was dating the team captain, that Azriel was the brains for the whole team as well, always the one planning the strategic plays, but apparently, he wasn't allowed to be a captain since he got into one too many fights during his first season.

When my cooldown music ended, mostly everyone else on the Velaris Bats had shown up for practice, staring at me as I stretched my leg up beside my head like I was an animal in the zoo. I still had five minutes left of ice time, so I made sure Azriel was watching when I practiced doing my ‘fancy twirls’, the exercise had exhausted me but it was worth it to see the look of silent rage on his face.

I continued to grin, using him as my spot as I whipped around in the air and landed gracefully down onto the ice, at such an angle that it left a horrid chip in the ice I'd have to avoid for the rest of my routine.

I spot some of the other boys noticing this as well, scowls on their faces as I give them a wink before they rush off to what I assume is the locker room to get their equipment.

Again, leaving only Azriel and I. He steps onto the ice before my time is up and I glide past him with a smirk and he returns it, something in his gaze telling me he knew something I didn't.

I brush it off and continue with my spins and jumps.

I had just come out of a lutz with enough momentum to push a boulder down a hill when suddenly all the lights in the rink shut off. I freeze, my legs buckling at the sudden change, my eyes not used to the atmosphere and before I know it I'm speeding towards a wall, incapable of scrambling to a stop on my skates that were far too sharp.

I shrieked, attempting to pivot on my toepick but it only sent me tumbling forward. I blanch at the realization that I was about to slam into the ice over such an amateur move.

But before I make contact with the frozen ground, hands come to my waist and pull me away from my sudden doom. I gasped, catching my breath as a figure steadied me, gliding along the ice along with me until I managed to come to a stop.

I look up to my savior only to find Azriel standing in front of me, his hands still on my waist as if we were pair skaters. Why was he so effortlessly graceful in the rink?

"Thanks," I mutter, my skates making a crisp sound as they halt against the ice.

"Don't thank me, it was my teammates who turned off the lights," He said, looking down at me, his hands still on my waist as we stood in the center of the rink with the lights shut off.

With the absence of his pads, I could feed his abdomen pressed to my chest, I had been panting from my restless jumps but he hadn't seemed affected when he saved me, like he knew I'd panic.

"Still, I can't afford to get any more bruises," I say through heavy breaths. He cracks a smile.

"I know the feeling," He hums, making no move to let go of my waist, and I'd be lying if I said he wasn't heavily supporting my tired limbs at the moment.

"Usually I'm better at stopping, I just got my blades sharpened," I explain and he arches a brow, his gaze almost amused.

"You don't have to make excuses, Princess, you could just admit you wanted to be in my arms," He taunts and I roll my eyes, pushing him away to which he glides back.

"Quit calling me that," I toss at him as I slowly make my way off the ice, returning to the solid ground as I put on the guards over the blades of my skates. Snow Princess had been my stage name when I was younger, it was my mom's choice, and I had been happy with it at the time, Azriel liked to remind me of it every waking moment he saw me, in fact, I couldn't remember the last time he called me by my actual name.

"Not in a million years, Princess," He continues his teasing and I huff, untying my laces and shucking my blades off, favoring a pair of tennis shoes that felt like walking on clouds compared to the tightness of my skates.

The lights turn back on and I look out at the rink, seeing just how much damage I did with my turns. I smile in triumph as I watch Azriel avoid the chips in the ice as he practically soars throughout the rink.

The rest of the players came out onto the ice only a moment later while I shrugged my coat on, losing interest in the others once it wasn’t just Azriel. They had all pushed him off the rink, telling him to hurry up and change so they could start practice already.

I ignore their raucous laughter and crude words as I make my way into the locker rooms, eager to get my stuff and then go home. I could already feel my legs aching with soreness and it's barely been a few minutes off the ice.

I opened my locker just as Azriel strolled in.

I hadn't known his locker had been situated directly next to mine until he opened it and took out all his pads and equipment, then, right then and there to my utter shock he began changing right in front of me.

"You know there's changing rooms, right?" I avoid looking at him, my eyes pinned straight to my locker as I clean it out, stuffing things into my bag.

"I'm in a rush," He said and I could see him shrug from my periphery. "I was too busy saving you from the wall," He remarks and I whirl to face him, then immediately regretting it because he was still shirtless.

"You didn't have to do that," I wished my words came out a little more sour but instead they trailed off, similar to how my eyes dipped from his face to his exposed skin, the cut of his abdomen, the ripples of muscle in his arms, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

When my eyes meet his again, I'm also met with a stupid smirk on his lips. "Seems like you wanted me too," He teases, leaning dauntingly closer. I swallow thickly. He was so damned near I could practically feel the heat from his skin. "Seems like you want a lot more from me than just my arms wrapped around you," His gaze was entirely predatory. I swallowed thickly, heat staining my cheeks and I knew that I was blushing. "Do you want to wrap around something else?" He arched a brow and I pushed him away, my hands feeling like they were burning the moment they touched his bare skin but he stumbled back and the look of surprise on his face was priceless.

"You're such an asshole," I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder.

"That wasn't a no, Princess," He crooned.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that?" I frown. I could leave if I wanted to, I have my bag, I was ready. But he knew I'd rather sit here and argue with him than go home.

"I thought I told you no?" He retorts, taking a long stride forward and pinning me between him and the lockers. "It suits you," He surmised. "A stuck-up, prudish, princess," He leans closer with every word, and by the time he finished speaking his nose was nearly brushing mine. I maintained eye contact, holding my ground.

"I'm not stuck up, and I'm definitely not a prude," I cross my arms over my chest defensively.

"Is that right?" He tilts his head, his voice low. His eyes flick down to my lips, then so leisurely trail back up to my eyes.

"I'm not kissing you," I scoff, I hadn't meant to say it aloud, but now the bastard's smirk was wider.

"I don't remember saying anything about a kiss?" He taunts and I grit my teeth. “Is that what you fantasize about to help you sleep at night?”

"Oh, just shut up already.” I crash my lips onto his.

He immediately reacts to the movement, his arm wraps around my waist while his other cups my jaw, pulling me into him, not wasting a second before we have to pull away for air.

I melt into him, my cold body from the ice immediately heating as my fingers press against his bare abdomen, sliding my hand up his chest.

His hands find their way to my hips, slipping to the backs of my thighs and lifting me up, my back pressed against the lockers as my legs wrap around his torso. My arms wrap around the nape of his neck as I taste him deeper, every flick of his tongue over mine sending waves of pleasure down my spine. "We shouldn't be doing this in here," I whisper against his lips.

"I don't care," He confessed, his hands gripping the underside of my thighs tighter.

"Someone could walk in," I argue, but I don't bother pulling away.

"Are you nervous about being seen with me?" He taunts and I hit his shoulder playfully, kissing him deeply as a reply before pulling away a fraction to say,

"You're going to be late," I try to defend but I swear he could barely hear me with how drunk he was on my lips because as soon as I was done speaking his mouth was back on mine and any other words I could conjure were swallowed by his all-consuming kiss.

"You worry too much, Princess," He grumbled.

"Yo, Az!" A familiar voice shouts through the doorway of the locker room, and gods we were lucky that he had me pinned to the wall. "What's taking so long hurry up," Cassian calls, and Azriel slowly pulls away from my lips.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a second," He retorts and my head slumps back against the lockers while Azriel slowly puts me back down onto my feet.

"You're lucky we didn't get caught," I glare up at him but he only returns it with a smile. He grabs his equipment bag and slings it over his shoulder.

"This," He gestures between me and him. "Isn't over, alright?" He leans in close and I only nod. He pecks my lips before leaving the locker room, the door creaking as it shuts and leaves me standing there utterly speechless.

What the hell just happened? And why did I enjoy every second of it?

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Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @nyxbranwenn @dnfhascorruptedme

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imaginespazzi · 5 months

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Yeah I still think they only officially started dating after P’s injury. I always thought they would have blurred some lines or messed around before college especially during that time they were living together during covid so am not too surprised that’s the case.

I’m curious though as to if either of them ever brought up actually being in a relationship prior to college or if there was always a mutual understanding that that was strictly just a summer thing or whatever.

In saying all that, given lines were already blurred before college, I’m a little surprised it took as long as P’s injury for them to be more serious (if that is indeed correct) like I woulda thought P would jump at the chance of finally being together for real once Az got there but well ik there’s been theories of why it prolly took as long as it did. I also wouldn’t be surprised tho if things started getting more serious already towards the end of Az’s freshman year so like early 2022.

You and I are on the same wavelength down to the part where I have an early 2022 theory because there's a couple games right before Paige comes back, where you can tell (or I'm reading too much into it) there's a little bit of tension and it feels a little more than just Coach P being Coach P when she's yelling at Azzi.

To your point about addressing it/it taking so long, is that these are dumbasses (lovingly) we're dealing with. It's very easy when you only see each other a couple of times to pretend that you're definitely not more than so I don't think they thought (stupidly) that they needed to talk about it. Once you start living together, it becomes hard to ignore but it can also be really hard to let yourself acknowledge especially when you're stubborn (P) or an overthinker (A) so honestly if it took a year, I would not be shocked.

#ask #never underestimate the ability of two idiots in love to overcomplicate a simple thing (source: my life)

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malady335 · 2 years

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Some sketches for the Modern day AU of Lives Taken, Lives Made. I’ll probably not write anything for it but I might do some more art in the future.

Basically in summary Idhrenes divorces Raenor and marries Thakrak, a tattoo artist. Hura transations into a hot bird witch and is dating her neighbor Ur-Edin who works construction and coaches little league and other sports. Az-Bror works at a Big and Tall store and does tailoring on the side. Ronk trains wolves, coyotes and even bears for movies, he also has horses he rides in rodeos. Fubar is ex-military and runs a BDSM dungeon in his free time. Cireth is still too aggressive and when she grows up she becomes a wrestler for fun and even does some underground MMA fighting.

So if anyone is sad that Idhrenes and Thakrak didn’t make it don’t worry their relationship is great in this AU. I don’t think I’ll ever do any writing for it. I do have some ideas for oneshots with the original series that take place either when Cireth is an adult or even during the years they were in Seregost during that time skipped.

I also have a darker AU that I’m working on. It is basically an AU of what if Shelob didn’t help with Idhrenes’s pregnancy. It’ll be sad and go to some dark places but I don’t want to start posting unless I’m happy with it. While I love reading dark stuff I’m not the best at writing it and I’d rather make something good than just post an AU for its own sake and to keep the characters going. If I end up liking where it ends up I’ll be sure to post an update about it.

I also want to make a bit more art for LTLM, when I’ll get that done I don’t know since I want to jump back into Red Turns Black in the Moonlight. But I’ll be sure to make a post and put in a note at the start of LTLM about where I put any new art if I get some done.

I’m so happy to see so many people liked this little passion project of mine. When I started it I hadn’t an idea of where I wanted to take it other than a basic idea of the ending. I hadn’t the faintest idea people would like my characters as much as they do or that I would end up working on any AU stuff. So thank you everyone for coming along this almost 2yr journey with me and I hope it was as enjoyable for you as it was for me.

#LTLM art #fanfic art #art for a fanfic #LTLM Modern AU #LTLM #Lives Taken Lives Made #fanfiction #orcs

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toptech-blitz · 11 months

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In-Home Nurse Practitioner

Job title: In-Home Nurse Practitioner Company: Emcara Health ad_1 Job description: Impact Patients' Lives, Earn Supplemental Income and Enjoy Flexibility at a Mission-Driven Company Perform in-home assessments backed by strong training and support in a critical role If you are an experienced Nurse Practitioner/Physician Assistant with a commitment to delivering exceptional care, this per diem job offers you some great opportunities. You will: - Perform in-person annual preventative health risk assessment for members, in the member's personal living space, running your assignments as your own mini-practice. - Make an impact on the lives of your patients (our goal always is to leave patients better than we found them) and support an approach that controls healthcare costs. - Take advantage of robust and supportive paid training, including in-person and online modules, as well as ongoing coaching sessions and team-building meetings. - Enjoy strong support from the management team; we view this as a critical role and take a proactive approach to providing the resources you need. For example, managers hold weekly office hours to respond to questions from IHA Nurse Practitioners. - Earn supplemental include that includes a flat rate per completed assessment, mileage reimbursement, potential performance bonuses, and an optional 401(k) plan. Reporting to a Clinical Service Manager, you will perform an in-person, no-cost annual preventative health risk assessment for Medicare, Medicaid, and Affordable Care Act members of specific health plans. These assessments will take place within the member's personal living space according to market health plan expectations. We have multiple opportunities for IHA Nurse Practitioners in Arizona, Maine, New Hampshire and New York, so feel free to share this information with your network. To meet the basic qualification for this role, you will have legal authorization to work permanently in the United States for any employer without requiring a visa transfer or visa sponsorship. In addition, to be a good fit for the Nurse Practitioner, IHA opportunity, you will have: - A master's or doctorate degree from an accredited NP program, or a master's degree from an accredited PA program. - Current RN and NP or PA licensure in the present state of practice. - Board certification by the American Nurses Credentialing Center (ANCC), the American Association of Nurse Practitioners (AANP), or the National Commission on Certification of Physician Assistants (NCCPA). - Current BLS certification. - Advanced understanding of risk adjustment models for the Center for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS) and the Affordable Care Act (ACA). - The ability to drive up to a 50-mile radius from your home address to complete appointments, a valid state driver's license and proof of sufficient insurance. No Boundaries. Just Great Care. Emcara Health is dedicated to bringing comprehensive, quality care to vulnerable and underserved patients in the comfort of their home or wherever they call home. We are a value-based, national medical group and proud to be a part of PopHealthCare, a leader in home-based care and risk adjustment services. As a part of GuideWell, PopHealthCare is passionate about our mutual mission to help people and communities achieve better health. Along with our value-based national medical group, Emcara Health, we provide a seamless experience for our patients and our clients to help everyone achieve better outcomes. EOE/AA/M/F/Vets/Disabled Expected salary: Location: Sierra Vista, AZ Job date: Sat, 28 Oct 2023 07:59:27 GMT ad_2 Apply for the job now! Read the full article

#InHome #Nurse #Practitioner

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wytza · 2 years

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Corrective (brain) training

2022 may - I was looking for summer courses, which I could participate already from abroad. We can say it is a hobby of mine, to keep learning different methods and skills connected to my profession. One of those were an Aerial Yoga Teacher Training, which I had to pass to a later date due to my condition, but I started in another school in the end of may.

IWI Fitness Academy offered a Corrective Trainer Course, which is based on the Corrective Exercise Coach program of the National Academy of Sports Medicine (NASM).

The method is pretty interesting and more in the direction of rehabilitation, which I'm aiming for. Unfortunate that the school decided to shut down the course from next year. I was lucky to take the exam with the last running group.

More about the NASM course here:

2022 május - Már hazaérkezésem előtt is kerestem a lehetőségeket, hogy milyen kurzusokon tudok részt venni a nyár folyamán. Mondhatjuk hogy hobbi szinten űzöm saját magam fejlesztését szakmai téren. Az egyik ilyen lehetőség egy Aerial Jóga Oktató kurzus volt, amelyet sajnos későbbre kellett halasztanom állapotom miatt, de május végén így volt időm elkezdeni egy másik iskolát.

Az IWI Fitness Akadémia Korrektív Tréneri kurzusát, mely a National Academy of Sports Medicine (NASM) Corrective Exercise Coach programján alapul.

A metódus igen érdekes és inkább a mozgás rehabilitáció irányába tart, ami egyébként is célom. Sajnálatos, hogy az iskola úgy döntött, jövőre már nem indítja el a képzést. Örülök, hogy lehetőségem volt levizsgázni az utolsó kifutó csoporttal.

#trainer #coach #rehabilitation #fitnessinstructor #coach training #movementstudies #posture corrector #studybuddy

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

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I always have this What If in my head.. what if during that time when Ran and Kitten were still only co-parenting Ran find some woman, like i dont know he would took girls out to buy coffee and some lady would praise Icy&Azzie and maybe he would come back couple of times to that coffee shop and actually start to date her?? I know Ran and Kitten will always find their ways to be with each other, but maybe Kitten after seeing that the love of her life being with someone thats not her would trigger something in her and she will tell him sooner?

Oh my goodness! I love this, it's mean, but I do really love this. A bit of a slow torture. Yes, Kitten and Ransom will always end up together, but sometimes it's the journey that makes them turn out the way that they are now. So let's dive into this! Because it's only fair that if Kitten is dating someone, Curtis, that Ransom could be dating someone as well.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Watching Your Kids

Summary: Ransom has a date

Pairings: Ransom X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings: language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

What If...? Masterlist

“Nope, you come here,” Ransom grabs hold of Aster finishing getting her ready for gymnastics, while Iris sits calmly smiling at him. “You like tumbling, Az, you just got to stay still, so I can get you dressed.”

“More fun,” she giggles. As soon as Ransom’s hands are off of her, she does a quick somersault, while he works on getting Iris dressed.

“Dada sad?” Iris asks holding his face in both her hands. “Dada hurt?”

“No, Icy. Dada is tired.”

“No seep?”

“Nope. Dada hasn’t slept well since you were born,” she chokes out a laugh, while he slips on her shoes. Gathering their gym bag, he holds out a hand for both of them, “Alright, let’s see what Miss Hope is gonna teach you guys today.”

Ransom has a love hate relationship with gymnastics. He loves when you come and sit with him. Doing a quick exchange, before he comes to your apartment for dinner anyways. But some days it’s just him, the girls, the teacher, too many rowdy kids, and meddling mothers.

He can tell they talk about him a lot, because they’re always whispering and giggling when he’s here without you. He watches a bit longer as Hope warms the kids up, and an older mother slides in beside him.

“So what’s your story? You’re sometimes here with a,” her eyes drift to his fingers before back at his face, but he still stares at his daughter. “So she’s not the wife, and she doesn’t have a ring.”

“Is this going somewhere, ma’am?”

“Just trying to figure out the parent situations here. I’m like the president of the mothers. You and your…?” Ransom refuses to answer, because he doesn’t have the appropriate label. “Okay, the mother of the twins and you have not signed up for snacks.”

Finally he turns to look and her, and she’s nearly taken aback at his intense stare. His dark blue eyes beyond over this conversation. “Tell us when and what to bring.”

“So you’re dating? It’s just most of us,” she holds up her finger showing a wedding band, and Ransom loses all interest again. “Well, it sets a good example for the kids.”

“My daughters are loved and cared for by both me and their mother. That’s a great example.”

“She’s brought another man in here.”

“That would be her boyfriend.”

“So you are single?” as soon as Hope dismisses the girls, Ransom bolts to get them. Sliding their coats on, and thankful that he’s finished with that.

“Mr. Drysdale?” Hope asks before he can sneak out. “I saw Mrs. Perry talking to you. You don’t owe anyone an explanation on anything,” she smiles while the girls run to the floor, practicing more somersaults and splits.

“You’re doing a good job. None of the other fathers come here.”

“None of them went through what I did to get my daughters,” he grumbles, quickly looking away from her. “I mean, the girls, Aster and Iris really seem to like you, get along great.”

“Yeah, I’ll go to the park with you.”

Ransom’s mouth turns into a small O as he looks at the tiny gymnastics coach. Unsure of how or why the conversation veered in this direction. “Extra practice and everything.”

“What just happened?”

“I’m free this Saturday. And we can either meet there or you can pick me up. Let’s say around noon? And then after they play around we can take them to a movie or dinner, okay? Sounds great. I’ll see you Saturday,” she turns quickly walking into her office, while Ransom still stands there in shock.

“Dada! Go to mama’s now!” Aster shouts, finally pulling Ransom out of his thoughts. He nods his head, calling both girls over to head to your place for supper.

Still almost distracted by what Hope had told him when he walks in, and feeling a ping of jealousy when both girls run to Curtis with both arms wide. But more so when he scoops both of Aster and Iris up, and blowing raspberry tickles on their necks. “Your mom made pizza!”

“Yay!”

“Dada stay?” Iris asks peaking behind her to see Ransom, “Pitza nummy.”

Ransom looks over at you, and giggle reaching to get a plate. Like always Jake and Steve join, and you have your odd made up family until Ransom clears his throat.

“Do you mind if I have the girls this weekend? I mean, if you don’t have anything planned with them?”

“We were going to take them to the pumpkin patch,” you remind him. You notice how he tries not to roll his eyes. We, as in you, him, Curtis, Jake, Aster, and Iris.

“Can we do that Sunday? I have something Saturday. I have a thing.”

“Oh, you have a date?” you playfully ask.

“I think so.”

“Oh,” you respond quickly, and all eyes turn towards you waiting on a response. “Um, well…” thankfully the girls had retired to their bedroom for a bit of playtime before baths. Curtis lays a hand on your thigh and gives a little squeeze, “I don’t want you to introduce the girls to an I think so date.”

Ransom let’s out a chuckle at your uncomfortableness. More sure of himself with his next words, “They’re not being introduced. It’s their gymnastics teacher.”

“Hope?” your voice goes up an octave, and you just stare at him. “You asked Hope out on a date? Why?”

“Hope asked me on a date. No, she told me I was going on a date with her. I think it’s a date.”

“Fine,” you answer standing up, you gather the plates, nearly ignoring Ransom for the rest of the evening. You don’t miss Jake and Steve continuing to look at you, but it’s Curtis’ face that hurts.

“I need a shower,” you answer before you can even comprehend anything at the moment.

“That came from nowhere,” Jake answers, his eyes set on Ransom. “You just…have a date and you’re taking your kids.”

“Is it a date then?” Steve asks. “And she told you? She’s a very…matter of fact woman.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” everyone turns to look at Curtis, nearly gawking. “You should get out there and meet new people. Sometimes it’s just time to…move on.”

“Wait a minute,” Ransom grumbles at him. “Is there something you would like to tell the class? You’re falling aren’t you?”

“I just think, you’re standing still won’t make your move, but you’ll agree to someone asking you. It’s good. I approve. I like Hope. The girls love Hope, plus, I did have a surprise for her this weekend, and seeing how you’re going to have the kids, I can spring it on her. You’ll have fun.”

“What’s going on?” Jake asks looking between Ransom and Curtis. “It’s like I feel the testosterone radiating off of both of them. So much masculinity. Now Ransom, you and your cable knit, counter that.”

“I think you’re moving too fast. She’s not ready for something serious. You’re not serious.”

“People change. Especially when they’re in a healthy relationship.”

“And some people have children together, and they’re always in a relationship.”

“That was terrible,” Jake whispers to Steve. “That didn’t make any damn sense. Ransom is losing this. You just watch.”

“Aster, Iris, come tell your daddy goodbye,”

Ransom never turns his eyes away from Curtis, just gives him a long glare. Only looking away when both girls crash into him.

“No! Dada stay wit me. Hold you,” Iris makes grabby hands at Ransom and he picks both up.

“Mama got a big bed,” Aster adds in. Ransom looks over at Curtis with the biggest smile. “Seep wif mama tonight.”

“CC can scoot over.”

“This just got weird,” Jake adds his snippy commentary. Glancing over at Curtis who never flinches. “I’m about to sit in the shower with her.”

“Shut up,” Steve grouses.

“Dada stay, peas?”

“No, but I’ll see you tomorrow when mama brings you to the estate,” he gives them both kisses and hands them to Jake and Curtis respectively when him and Steve leave.

————————————

Curtis crawls in the bed behind you, and immediately starts to softly kiss your shoulder. “Ten should do it tonight,” you turn to the side to look at him and he smirks.

“We gonna talk about it, or you going to hide in orgasms.”

“Talk about what?” you ask him, and he gives your shoulder a small nibble. “Curtis, what?”

“Fine, Little one what do you want?”

“To not think,” you answer very quickly.

“Now what do you need?”

This takes longer. You sit and think, knowing exactly what to say, but not wanting to admit it. “I need to talk.”

“What is the most important right now?” Turning around to look at him, you crawl into his lap, laying your head on his shoulders, and his hands move up and down your back. “I am okay with whatever you need or want. I am here for you.”

“I don’t like it.”

“What?”

“That,” you respond with a growl. “Ransom and Hope, and bringing my daughters on their date.”

“They go on dates with us.”

“That’s different. They knew you,” Curtis lets out a shot of air, and you realize how ridiculous you sound. “But that’s their coach. And…”

“What do you want from Ransom?” you give him a shrug, because it is definitely not something that’s fair to talk about with Curtis. “What do you need from Ransom?”

“Just him. And I’m sitting in your lap, and it’s not fair.”

He pushes you back to look into your eyes, “You do understand, I am fully aware that you are stubbornly in love with Ransom. I say stubbornly because you’re fucking around with me, literally. Letting that man get asked on dates, that he doesn’t want to go anymore than you want him too. You will not hurt my feelings when you decide you’re tired of me fucking you dumb.”

He gets a tiny giggle from you, but you still cling to his thick frame, “The only one that can stop him from dating, is you. But if you don’t want to try it out, then you need to let him go.”

————————————

Ransom awkwardly walks beside Hope when the girls run off playing with Axel. Since the twins are no longer with them, so there’s no buffer. No conversation, and he can’t very well do what he did with you when the two of you first got involved. This is their gymnastics coach.

Thankfully for him, he doesn’t see you walking in the park. Curtis was right, and you had let the whole week pass, while you stewed bitterly at the fact that Ransom was on a date. On a date that Hope asked him on.

Walking past everyone until you get right on him, spinning him around, to pull Ransom down to your lips. At first he just stands there, but then, his hands pull you closer, before lifting you up to him.

Returning the kiss, and never wanting to let you go. Not even when both girls giggle at you. Iris even having a few tears in her eyes. Pulling back when Aster gives his leg a smack. “What was that for?”

“The only person I want you going on dates with is me. I don’t want to date anyone but you. I don’t want to play these stupid games. I know what you said, but I’m not waiting on you to make a move. I’m telling you that you’re who I want to be with. I want to live together with our girls, and I want to give you more babies. Enjoy every second of this life with you. And I know we got work to do, but you’re worth it. We’re worth it. Ransom, just…” not able to finish your sentence or train of thought, due to the fact that Ransom slots his lips against yours.

“Told you Tucker!” Hope screams. “Where’s my fifty bucks? Stupid idiots in love. By the way, I’m going to leave, so make sure you’re watching your kids.”

Masterlist

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heartconnectcoaching · 23 days

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Common Dating Mistakes Arizona Singles Make and How to Fix Them

Dating can be a thrilling yet challenging journey, particularly in a dynamic state like Arizona, where singles are navigating a vibrant dating scene across diverse cities such as Phoenix, Scottsdale, and Tucson. While many are excited about the possibilities, common dating mistakes can impede progress and hinder the quest for a meaningful relationship. Recognizing and addressing these mistakes can significantly improve your dating experience. This article explores common dating mistakes Arizona singles make and provides actionable strategies to fix them.

1. Relying Too Heavily on Online Dating

The Mistake: In the digital age, online dating has become a popular way to meet new people. However, relying too heavily on online platforms can limit your opportunities to connect on a deeper level. Arizona’s diverse dating scene offers more than just digital interactions, and focusing solely on Online Dating Arizona can prevent you from exploring other valuable avenues for meeting potential partners.

How to Fix It:

Diversify Your Approach: While online dating is a useful tool, don’t limit yourself to just that. Explore other methods such as attending social events, joining local clubs or groups, and participating in community activities. Engaging in diverse social settings can help you meet people who share your interests and values.

Balance Online and Offline Interactions: Use online dating as a supplementary tool rather than your primary method for meeting people. Make an effort to meet in person and build real-life connections to create more meaningful relationships.

By diversifying your dating approach, you can expand your opportunities and enhance your chances of finding a compatible partner.

2. Focusing Too Much on Physical Attraction

The Mistake: Physical attraction is often one of the first factors noticed in dating. However, placing too much emphasis on physical appearance can lead to superficial connections and overlook important aspects of compatibility such as values, interests, and emotional connection.

How to Fix It:

Prioritize Compatibility: When evaluating potential partners, focus on shared values, goals, and interests. Consider what truly matters in a long-term relationship beyond physical attraction.

Engage in Meaningful Conversations: Take time to get to know your date on a deeper level. Engage in conversations that reveal their personality, life goals, and values to assess compatibility.

By prioritizing compatibility over physical attraction, you can build more meaningful and lasting connections.

3. Ignoring Red Flags

The Mistake: Ignoring red flags or warning signs can lead to problematic relationships. Whether it’s inconsistent behavior, disrespect, or conflicting values, overlooking these signs can result in deeper issues down the line.

How to Fix It:

Trust Your Instincts: Pay attention to any red flags or discomfort you feel during interactions. Trusting your instincts can help you identify potential issues early on.

Set Clear Standards: Establish and communicate your non-negotiables and boundaries. If you notice red flags that violate these standards, don’t hesitate to address them or move on from the relationship.

By acknowledging and addressing red flags, you can avoid entering into relationships that may lead to further complications.

4. Settling for Less

The Mistake: Settling for less than you deserve often stems from fear of being single or low self-esteem. This mistake can lead to accepting partners who don’t align with your values or meet your relationship needs.

How to Fix It:

Know Your Worth: Develop a strong sense of self-worth and recognize the value you bring to a relationship. Understanding your value can help you avoid settling for partners who don’t meet your standards.

Be Patient: Don’t rush into relationships out of fear of being single. Take the time to find a partner who genuinely aligns with your desires and goals.

By knowing your worth and being patient, you can avoid settling for less and find a partner who truly meets your needs.

5. Communicating Ineffectively

The Mistake: Effective communication is crucial for successful relationships. Ineffective communication, such as avoiding difficult conversations or failing to express needs clearly, can lead to misunderstandings and conflicts.

How to Fix It:

Practice Open Communication: Be honest and open about your thoughts, feelings, and needs. Effective communication involves both expressing yourself clearly and actively listening to your partner.

Address Issues Early: Don’t avoid or suppress issues. Address them early on to prevent them from escalating and to maintain a healthy relationship dynamic.

By improving your communication skills, you can build stronger and more respectful relationships.

Success Stories: How Addressing Dating Mistakes Made a Difference

1. Sarah’s New Approach in Phoenix

Sarah, a 30-year-old marketing manager in Phoenix, previously relied heavily on online dating and focused too much on physical attraction. After working with a dating coach, she learned to diversify her approach by attending local social events and focusing on compatibility rather than just looks. Sarah’s new strategy led her to meet a partner who shared her values and interests, resulting in a meaningful and fulfilling relationship.

2. Michael’s Experience in Scottsdale

Michael, a 35-year-old tech professional in Scottsdale, often ignored red flags and settled for less than he deserved. With coaching support, Michael learned to trust his instincts, set clear standards, and address red flags early on. His new approach helped him avoid problematic relationships and eventually led to a healthy and respectful partnership.

3. Emily’s Success in Tucson

Emily, a 28-year-old artist in Tucson, struggled with ineffective communication and often avoided addressing issues in her relationships. After working with a coach, she developed better communication skills and learned to address conflicts constructively. Emily’s improved communication helped her build a stronger connection with her partner and resolve issues more effectively.

Taking Action: Your Path to Better Dating

If you’re a single in Arizona facing challenges in your dating life, addressing common mistakes and adopting effective strategies can make a significant difference. Working with a relationship coach can provide personalized guidance and support to help you overcome these challenges and enhance your dating experience.

Act Now and Schedule Your Site Visit

To take the next step in improving your dating life, schedule your site visit today. Provide your details at (602) 616-7872 or email us at [email protected]. For more information about our relationship coaching services, visit our website at Relationship Coach Services for Singles Arizona. Our office is located in Gilbert, Arizona, USA.

Investing in relationship coaching can provide you with the tools and strategies needed to address common dating mistakes and find a meaningful connection. Embrace the opportunity to enhance your dating life and discover the relationship you’ve been seeking. Take action today and embark on your path to a more fulfilling and successful dating journey!

Addressing common dating mistakes is crucial for singles seeking to improve their dating experience and find meaningful connections. By recognizing and correcting mistakes such as relying too heavily on online dating, focusing too much on physical attraction, ignoring red flags, settling for less, and communicating ineffectively, you can enhance your dating approach and build more fulfilling relationships. Reach out to a relationship coach to gain personalized guidance and support in overcoming these challenges and achieving your dating goals.

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ellasmithonline · 16 days

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Overcoming Anxiety with Dr. Karen Hawk: Your Path to Wellness in Arizona

Anxiety can feel like an insurmountable barrier, affecting every aspect of your life from your relationships to your career. Fortunately, in Arizona, there’s a beacon of hope for those seeking relief and recovery: Dr. Karen Hawk. Renowned for her compassionate and evidence-based approach, Dr. Hawk is dedicated to helping individuals navigate the complexities of anxiety and emerge on the other side with renewed strength and confidence. This article explores how Dr. Hawk’s expertise can transform your journey toward mental wellness, offering insights into her methods, what to expect from therapy, and how to take the first step toward a brighter future.

Understanding Anxiety

Anxiety is a common mental health condition characterized by persistent feelings of worry, fear, or apprehension. It can manifest in various forms, including Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), panic disorder, social anxiety disorder, and specific phobias. These conditions can significantly impact daily functioning, leading to physical symptoms like increased heart rate, sweating, and muscle tension, as well as emotional and cognitive symptoms such as intrusive thoughts, irritability, and difficulty concentrating.

The Role of Therapy in Managing Anxiety

Therapy is a cornerstone of anxiety management and treatment. It provides a safe and supportive space for individuals to explore their thoughts and feelings, learn coping strategies, and work through underlying issues that may contribute to their anxiety. Among the different therapeutic approaches, Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy (CBT) has been widely recognized for its effectiveness in treating anxiety disorders. CBT focuses on identifying and challenging negative thought patterns and behaviors while teaching practical skills for managing anxiety.

Meet Dr. Karen Hawk

Dr. Karen Hawk Arizona is a distinguished psychologist based in Arizona, known for her expertise in anxiety and other mental health challenges. With years of experience in the field, Dr. Hawk offers a range of therapeutic services tailored to meet the unique needs of each individual. Her approach combines evidence-based techniques with a compassionate and client-centered philosophy, making her a trusted resource for those seeking relief from anxiety.

Dr. Hawk’s educational background and professional experience underscore her commitment to excellence in mental health care. She has earned a reputation for her ability to connect with clients, understand their struggles, and provide effective strategies for overcoming anxiety. Whether you are dealing with chronic anxiety or experiencing situational stress, Dr. Hawk’s personalized approach ensures that you receive the support and guidance needed to achieve your wellness goals.

How Dr. Karen Hawk Can Help You

Personalized Assessment and Treatment Planning The journey to overcoming anxiety begins with a thorough assessment. Dr. Hawk takes the time to understand your specific concerns, symptoms, and experiences. This initial evaluation allows her to develop a personalized treatment plan that addresses your unique needs and goals. By collaborating with you to identify the root causes of your anxiety, Dr. Hawk can create a targeted approach that maximizes the effectiveness of your therapy.

Evidence-Based Therapeutic Approaches Dr. Hawk utilizes a variety of evidence-based therapeutic approaches to help clients manage and overcome anxiety. Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy (CBT) is a primary method used in her practice. CBT involves working with clients to identify and challenge distorted thinking patterns and behaviors that contribute to anxiety. By replacing these with more realistic and balanced thoughts, clients can develop healthier responses to stressors.Additionally, Dr. Hawk may incorporate mindfulness and relaxation techniques into therapy. These practices help clients build awareness of their thoughts and feelings, manage physiological responses to stress, and cultivate a sense of calm. Techniques such as deep breathing, progressive muscle relaxation, and guided imagery can be valuable tools in reducing anxiety symptoms.

Skill-Building and Coping Strategies One of the key components of therapy with Dr. Hawk is skill-building. Clients learn practical strategies for managing anxiety and improving their overall well-being. These skills may include time management, assertiveness training, and problem-solving techniques. By equipping clients with these tools, Dr. Hawk empowers them to handle challenges more effectively and build resilience in the face of adversity.

Support and Empowerment Dr. Hawk’s therapeutic approach is rooted in providing support and empowerment. She creates a safe and non-judgmental space where clients can explore their feelings and experiences openly. This supportive environment fosters trust and encourages clients to engage actively in their therapy. Dr. Hawk’s empathetic and collaborative style helps clients feel understood and validated, which is essential for making progress in therapy.

Ongoing Evaluation and Adjustment Therapy is an ongoing process that requires regular evaluation and adjustment. Dr. Hawk continuously monitors your progress and adjusts the treatment plan as needed. This dynamic approach ensures that therapy remains relevant and effective as you work toward your goals. Regular feedback and open communication with Dr. Hawk help maintain a clear focus on your objectives and facilitate any necessary changes to the treatment plan.

What to Expect from Your First Visit

When you schedule your first visit with Dr. Karen Hawk, you can expect a comprehensive and welcoming experience. The initial session typically involves discussing your background, current concerns, and therapy goals. Dr. Hawk will take the time to understand your unique situation and explain the therapeutic process. This first meeting sets the foundation for your treatment and helps establish a collaborative relationship between you and your therapist.

Taking the First Step

Taking the first step toward managing anxiety can be both exciting and daunting. If you are ready to seek help and explore therapy with Dr. Karen Hawk, you can easily get in touch by calling (480) 218-2289. Alternatively, you can email Dr. Hawk at [email protected] to schedule your appointment. For more information about her practice and services, visit her website at Dr. Karen Hawk Psychologist Arizona.

Why Choose Dr. Karen Hawk?

Dr. Karen Hawk stands out as a leading mental health professional in Arizona due to her commitment to providing high-quality, client-centered care. Her expertise in managing anxiety, combined with her compassionate approach, makes her a valuable resource for those seeking relief and support. By choosing Dr. Hawk, you are investing in a therapeutic partnership that prioritizes your well-being and empowers you to achieve lasting change.

In summary, overcoming anxiety is a journey that requires support, understanding, and effective strategies. Dr. Karen Hawk offers a pathway to wellness through her personalized, evidence-based therapeutic approaches. By reaching out for help, you are taking a proactive step toward reclaiming control over your life and achieving a sense of peace and balance. Don’t wait—contact Dr. Hawk today and take the first step toward a brighter, anxiety-free future.

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cuquitalocita · 3 years

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kids and car rides 2 -feysand

AN: well, you guys liked the one-shot, so here’s a part 2! this is five thousand words of plotless fluff- hope you like it! if you didn’t read it, here is part one

part three

Rhys had known he was screwed from the very beginning.

It was those damn eyes. It had to be.

From the first comment Feyre Archeron had made in Literature, Rhys had been hooked. Maybe it was the tone in which she spoke the words, almost as if she expected someone to disagree with her even -though what she was saying was brilliant- but Rhys was pretty sure it was the paint stains she always seemed to carry around all over her body, no matter the time of day.

Gods, all he had wanted to do was brush a finger over a paint-stained strand of hair when she had been in his car earlier. Yep, because Rhys had somehow convinced the brunette to let him drive her home. He was still reeling.

Rhys shook his head, running a hand quickly over his face before focusing back on the road in front of him. Soon enough he was pulling into the student parking lot in front of the high school, immediately spotting Cassian and Azriel standing by Cassian’s truck.

Rhys scowled at them before turning off the engine and stalking over to them. He still wasn’t quite over them leaving Thebe out of his sight. But of course, Feyre had been there to find her. And just like that, his thoughts returned to the grey-eyed girl.

His friends fell into step beside him as they walked through the school in silence, still tired due to the early morning. He wasn’t sure whose brilliant idea it was to have football practice before and after school, but Rhys was still bitter about it.

“So,” Cassian snickered. “Did Rhysie have an interesting night?” Rhys shoved him, glaring through violet eyes at Cassian’s shit-eating grin and Azriel’s small smile.

“Shut the hell up, Cassian.”

“I think it’s a fair ask. You finally got the girl to spend some time alone with you and you’re telling me it didn’t go well?” Rhys rolled his eyes, arriving in the locker room.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Oh calm down, Rhys. It’s six in the morning- there’s no one else here.”

“Still,” Rhys insisted. He didn’t know what was going on with him and Feyre, but he doubted she wanted anything about them to start circling around the school. Especially when she was still dating Tamlin Hybern.

Rhys scowled into his locker. How could a girl like Feyre be dating a prick like Tamlin Hybern?

It didn’t matter, Rhys reminded himself. Because Feyre didn’t seem interested in him. So why should he even broach the thought of a relationship between them?

But his thoughts dissipated, quickly replaced with a small smile as he pulled his jacket out of his bag. She had only worn it for a few minutes, but the scent of Feyre Archeron had clung to his jacket like glue. Pears and lilac. Gods, Rhys could get drunk off of it.

“Dude,” Az’s voice rang through the almost empty locker room. “You coming?”

Rhys closed his locker, leaving his jacket inside along with the feelings for a girl who would never return them.

“Yeah.”

Practice was uneventful, his eyes constantly dragging to the empty bleachers, expecting to see- he didn’t really know what. Rhys had showered quickly, shoving himself out of the locker room as students began arriving and walking to their classes.

He was walking to calculus, already dreading what the old man had in store for his students when he passed the art room. Rhys shook his head. There was no way she was here this early. Why would she be?

But he couldn’t help it. So Rhys poked his head through the opened door of the art room, almost dropping the cellphone in his hand when he indeed saw the figure of Feyre Archeron hunched over in front of an aisle.

His heart was in his throat as he gazed at the girl in front of him. She wore a frown, clearly frustrated with whatever was going on in the painting in front of her and the sight brought a small quirk to his lips. Feyre had the tip of a paintbrush between her teeth and she seemed to be mumbling something to herself. Her hair was pulled into some type of knot in her head, also held together with a paintbrush, this one with a small bit of paint on it that was already falling into her hair. Not to mention the smear of yellow paint already on her cheek.

Rhys was full-blown grinning now as he shook his head.

He was shocked out of his staring by a strong hand clapping his shoulder. He recognized it as Cassian’s.

“Dude, you are so screwed.”

Yeah. Yeah, he was.

He saw her again after lunch. Feyre was back in the empty art studio, her brows drawn together as she examined the painting that now looked like a night sky. Rhys was sometimes taken aback by how talented she was.

If only he had the chance to tell her.

Rhys could practically hear Cassian’s voice in his head telling him to do it, so he did. With a light knock on the open door, he walked into the art studio. He couldn’t help but feel out of place with his clunky football gear around the beautiful paintings.

Feyre had jerked up as soon as he had knocked, the paintbrush flying out of her hand as it went to her chest.

“Hell, Rhys! You scared me.” Her gray eyes hardened as she took him in and Rhys couldn’t contain the grin on his face as he pulled up a chair and straddled it.

“Well, that was clearly my intention, darling. What fun would I be if I walked in like a normal person?” Feyre rolled her eyes, regaining her paintbrush and turning back to the canvas as if he weren’t there.

“I wonder, do things like that sound funnier in your head?” she arched a brow. For a moment Rhys was taken up in how simply beautiful she was. She looked like something out of a Disney movie with her big blue eyes and golden brown hair. Rhys was such a sucker for it.

“Aw, come on. We both know I’m funny.”

“Funny looking,” Feyre snorted. Gods, that was cute.

“I think we both know how you feel about my looks, darling.” His jab was rewarded with a pretty blush on Feyre’s cheeks that suited her a little too well. Finally, she placed her brush down and turned fully toward him.

“Is there a reason you’re here? Or have you just come to annoy me?” Rhys grinned, leaning his head on his hands.

“The latter obviously.” At her lack of facial expression, Rhys sighed. “Alright, I digress. I came here with an ulterior motive.”

Feyre arched a brow. “And that is?”

“To schedule my first study session,” Rhys blurted, thinking on his feet. The girl in front of him scoffed, twirling a piece of hair around her finger, and Rhys was struck with the raging desire to twirl it himself. It was sheer self-control that kept him in his chair. Because Feyre didn’t see him like that. No matter how much he wished she would.

“Sorry to tell you, but this isn’t the library.”

“That may be true. But my tutor’s here. I’m staring right after.” Feyre’s open-mouthed response was cut off by the bell ringing and Rhys cursed silently.

“Look, Rhys. I would if I could. But I’m honestly just too busy. This project isn’t working and the deadline is coming up. I’m sorry.” Feyre hauled her backpack over her shoulder and turned to leave the room before Rhys’s arm was shooting out to catch her wrist.

“Wait!” His hand dropped her wrist as she whipped her head back to him and Rhys swallowed. “Come on, go over notes with me for… twenty minutes. Then you can finish your project. I’ll even help you.” Feyre’s eyes flashed gray-blue.

“And how, pray tell-do you intend to do that?”

“By giving you inspiration of course,” he smirked, and the no-doubt accidental smile that broke on Feyre’s lips could have fueled his soul if he was the last man on earth. He shrugged, as if unaffected by the gorgeous smile on her face. “I’d say I’m pretty inspiring.”

Feyre watched him before shaking her head as if shaking thoughts out of her head. “You’re definitely something Rhysand.” She cleared her throat. “Fine. Meet me in the library. Three o’clock. Don’t be late. Have your study material ready and we’ll study. For twenty minutes.”

Rhys bet his smile was blinding as Feyre walked out of the room and down the hallway. He watched her in silent awe. But she had said yes.

Rhys wasn’t even a little embarrassed by the fact that he pumped his fist in the air when he knew she was too far to see him. She was going to study with him.

For a class, he didn’t take.

Shit.

Rhys cursed, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing the recently used number.

“Rhys?”

“Az, you take European Art right?”

“Uh�� yeah? Why?”

“Please tell me you have some sort of notes for the class.” There was a sigh on the other end of the line.

“This is for Feyre isn’t it?”

“Will you just answer the question?” Azriel huffed.

“Alright, fine. There’s a blue notebook in my locker- it’s for art. Anything in there should work for study material. Stay away from the back, though. Those are too detailed. Feyre would never believe they’re yours.”

Rhys grinned, ignoring the jab, and thanked Azriel. After sprinting to his friend’s locker and acquiring his notebook, Rhys was strutting back down the hall, a satisfying feeling in his stomach.

She had said yes.

How Coach had actually ended up letting Rhys skip practice to study was beyond him. He had an inkling sensation that it had something to do with Cassian muttering something about a girl to him. Coach had simply rolled his eyes and given him a bi.

And that was how Rhys arrived in the library fifteen minutes to three. He hid behind one of the higher shelves, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans and praying to the Gods that he didn’t mess this up.

Rhys had poured over the detailed notes in Azriel’s journal, thanking the Gods that he had a best friend who was so organized. The class seemed relatively simple, nothing much for him to worry about. He just hoped Feyre wouldn’t think he was stupid for asking the questions he would have to make up. Not lying in the first place really would have been the way to go. But it was much too late for that now.

Twenty minutes. That was all he had. He sincerely doubted that Feyre Archeron would spend more time with him than was necessary. And yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

As if hearing his thoughts about her, Feyre, in all her glory, walked into the library at that moment, a phone held in between her ear and shoulder. A small pout was on her face as she shook her head, ignoring the looks of the librarian who clearly pointed to the sign saying phones weren’t allowed.

“It’s not like that Nes…” she was saying as she passed by the bookshelf he was hiding behind. She clearly hadn’t seen him. “We’re just studying. He asked for help and he drove me home last Friday. It’s the least I could do.” The voice on the other end of the line bit something back and Feyre’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Gods! No, that is definitely not what’s happening. Besides, you know I’m going to end it. Nesta, would you please calm down? Look, he’s gonna get here soon, I gotta go.” Feyre rolled her eyes at the person’s response. “Yes, mom, I’ll be careful. Love you too. Bye.”

Rhys was slightly surprised that Feyre felt she needed to be careful around him. The prospect of anything that would even remotely hurt her caused his stomach to tumble uncomfortably.

But he steeled himself and walked over to Feyre who was already sitting at a table at the back of the library, textbooks open. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly when she noticed him before returning to their usual indifference.

“Ready to do this, Archeron?” Rhys wasn’t prepared for the wicked grin Feyre shot him.

“I think I’m supposed to be asking you that. Bring it on, Knight.”

The study session consisted of alternating between watching Feyre ramble through intricate art details and attempting not to be intoxicated by her perfume. Rhys seemed unable to do either without realizing how truly enthralled he was with the girl.

Feyre looked beautiful when she talked about art, and Rhys quickly realized he only needed to ask a simple question to send her on a factual tangent. But he didn’t mind. Her cheeks gained a pretty blush and her eyes twinkled with each sentence.

Yeah, Rhys could watch her forever.

But the buzzing of his phone alerted him that he and Feyre had ‘studied’ for much longer than twenty minutes, and it was time for him to pick Thebe up from the elementary school.

“Any other questions?” Feyre asked, without noticing his phone.

“You ready to go?” She started in place as she finally turned from her textbook.

“What?”

“If you didn’t notice, our twenty minutes ended a while ago, darling.” Feyre scowled at the nickname but Rhys continued. “And it’s time for my end of the deal.”

“Your… what?”

“I told you I would help you with your art project. So let’s go. I have to pick up Thebe, but if you want, you can come home with us, and we can try to figure your project out.”

Feyre smiled at the mention of his little sister and Rhys’s heart did a little relay in his chest. But Feyre shook her head, packing up her bag.

“Thanks, but I don’t know how you could help. It’s a mental thing and I… should figure it out on my own.”

“Come on, Feyre. Are we gonna do this again? Just let me try. Besides, Thebe misses you.” Rhys was smirking the moment he saw Feyre’s resolve crack.

“Fine. I’ll do it for Thebe.”

“Feyre!” Rhys almost frowned at the excitement in his little sister’s voice as she jumped into the back of his car. She had never greeted him like that.

“Hey, no hello for your big brother?” Thebe stuck her tongue out at him in the rearview mirror and Feyre choked out a laugh from beside him.

“Of course not. Because you aren’t her game buddy, now are you? Right Thebe?”

“Right!” Feyre smirked in triumph as Rhys gaped at her. But he couldn’t even be offended if the sickly sweet feeling in his stomach was any indication. Rhys had been amazed from the beginning with how good Feyre was with Thebe. She had always been a good kid, but recently Thebe had been on a rebellious streak.

But the little girl seemed to have a weak spot for Feyre Archeron. Rhys couldn’t say he blamed her. So as Feyre reached over and turned on the stereo in his car without his permission and smiled at him when he looked at her, he decided he would be okay with being whatever Feyre wanted to be. Because he didn’t know if he could live without being able to see that smile.

The ride to his house was silent and content, Feyre smiling at Thebe in the rearview mirror as she kicked her feet to the tune of whatever song was playing. The second he pulled into their driveway Thebe was out of the car and sprinting to the front door. After a kind scolding from Feyre about running away from her brother, Rhys unlocked the front door and led the two girls in.

He could already smell his mothers cooking on the stove and sweet, melodic music flowed through the house. He gazed at Feyre as she looked around, a small smile on his face.

He was so screwed.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Before Feyre could reply, Rhys was walking to the kitchen mumbling, “I’ll get you a water,” and leaving her with Thebe.

“Rhysand,” his mother hissed the second he crossed the threshold into the kitchen. She was in front of the stove holding a wooden spoon. “Is that a girl out there?” Rhys scratched the back of his burning neck.

“It is.” He was rewarded with a smack to the back of his head. “And why exactly have I not had an introduction?”

“It’s her first time over here, Mom. I don’t want to freak Feyre out.”

“FEYRE?” Rhys winced as soon as he realized his mistake. “The one you and the boys talk about all the time?” He almost laughed at the resemblance between her and Thebe, but he was too busy blushing down to his toes.

“Yes, now can I please go back out there? There’s a good chance she ran away.” His mother rolled her eyes.

“Rhysand Knight, you bring that girl in here right now and introduce me to her. If she’s anything like Thebe tells me then something tells me we’ll get along just fine.”

“Mom-” the look she shot him demanded he keep his mouth shut and do what she said. So Rhys walked back out the living room where Thebe was coloring something on a bright orange piece of paper. She was speaking to Feyre, her hands moving in all directions as Feyre watched her, nodding along in understanding. There was no way she understood what Thebe was saying.

Feyre’s gaze snapped up as he walked into the room. “What’s up?”

“Uh, my mom wants to meet you. Is that okay?” Rhys was ready to start rambling before Feyre stood up and walked over to him.

“Sure thing. I’d love to meet the woman who raised my favorite Knight. I’m talking about Thebe, by the way.” Rhys rolled his eyes, shooting her a small grin.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go Archeron.” Rhys lightly pushed the small of her back forward and they walked side by side back to the kitchen where his mother now held a knife. Feyre’s laid back demeanor quickly diminished as she gazed at the older woman and Rhys had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

“Feyre,” Rhys said through a laugh. “This is my mom. Mom, this is Feyre. She’s here for some inspiration.”

Whatever Rhys had expected to happen was thrown to hell as his mother surged forward and enveloped Feyre in a hug. In a short bit of hesitation, Feyre hugged her back and smiled.

“It’s so nice to meet you, dear. I’ve heard so much about you- from both of my children, surprisingly. Although Rhysand didn’t tell me how beautiful you were!”

“MOM!”

Feyre was blushing up to her roots but she smiled back nonetheless.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Archeron. Your house is beautiful. And your children saved my life last Friday at the football game. Quite the athlete you’ve got here by the way.” Rhys frowned.

“I didn’t know you watched the game.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” she said, turning to him and shooting him a sly smirk. “I was talking about Thebe. She’s pretty fast.” His mother laughed as Rhys rolled his eyes. “I knew I would like you. And I suppose I have you to thank that I have my daughter here today?” Feyre shook her head, accepting the water bottle his mother offered her.

“I didn’t do much. It was a right place, right time sort of thing. Besides, I think we all run away when we’re children. I’m just glad she’s okay. She’s just a kid- I’m sure she’ll learn not to run off eventually.”

“I hope so,” Rhys and his mother echoed at the same time. Feyre looked between the two, a small smile growing on her face as she reached into her backpack and pulled out a pen and a pencil. Rhys shot her a questioning look but she simply shook her head, letting him know that she was in no rush to stress about her project.

“So, Feyre.” His mother had returned to her chopping board and was cutting some carrots. He crossed the counter and pulled out a cutting board for himself and began to help her, catching Feyre’s eye in the process. The smile he shot her was one of pure happiness, and if he had known her better, he would’ve guessed the one she returned was the same. “Rhysand tells me you’re an artist.”

Feyre laughed a little. “Artist'' is a broad term. But, yes, I paint. And draw sometimes too. Your son would know, since tearing me away from my work seems to be his favorite hobby.” Rhys would have paled if not for the twinkle of amusement in Feyre’s eye and he flicked a droplet of water at her, causing her to reach over and pinch his side.

Rhys yelped, and Feyre’s smile turned positively wicked.

“Are you…? Are you ticklish?” Rhys squawked in offense.

“I am not!”

“You are too,” his mother and Thebe’s voices harmonized together. The little girl had wandered into the kitchen not long ago and was sitting on the bar stool next to Feyre, holding her own colorful crayons and paper.

“Wow,” Feyre mused from across the table. “Rhysand Knight: star quarterback. Ticklish.” She let out a melodic laugh and Rhys knew he would allow himself to be embarrassed for life if only to hear it again. Thebe giggled from beside her and Feyre arched a brow.

“I wouldn’t be giggling if I were you, Thee,” she warned, wiggling her dexterous fingers at the little girl. Thebe let out a high pitched squeal as she attempted to back out of the chair, Feyre’s hand behind her the only thing keeping her from falling backwards.

“No...no! Feyre no! Don’t-!” the little girl protested. But it was too late, and Feyre had scooped the little girl into her lap, tickling her sides with fervor until tears of laughter were streaming down her chubby cheeks. Feyre was laughing along with Thebe, even as the little girl tried to reach for her own sides to tickle her.

Rhys turned around and stared at the wooden cabinets for a moment. This feeling, in his chest. He had never felt it before. Like every bit of sunlight in existence was shoving its way into his soul, and there wasn’t enough room for it so it simply grew bigger. He couldn’t explain the happiness that coursed through his body at the sight of Feyre with his sister. He didn’t want to.

By the time he turned back around, the two girls had called a truce, yet they both gazed at each other, eyes in slits.

“Finally found her weak spot, Thee?” Thebe pouted, crossing her tiny arms in front of her and shaking her head resolutely.

“She’s not ticklish!” the girl complained in a whine and Feyre laughed.

“Sorry, Thebe. It’s an Archeron family trait.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rhys stated, placing his knife down in the sink and turning back to Feyre, who was now looking at him with wide eyes as he approached her. Feyre backed up and out of the kitchen, her hands in front of her as if to defend herself.

“Rhys, NO. Rhysand, don’t you dare. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare! Rhys no-”

The rest of her sentence was replaced with a sharp gasp as Rhys reached for her, his longer arms and legs allowing him to easily reach around Feyre’s waist and pull her to his chest. She shrieked as his fingers found her neck, tickling without restraint and causing a cacophony of laugh to explode from her as her body attempted to spring away from his.

Not ticklish my ass.

“Rhysand Knight, you let go of me right now!” she managed to get out in between out of breath laughs. Rhys almost didn’t hear her over the overwhelming scent of her shampoo in his senses. But when he did, Rhys smirked.

“Hmm… no, I don’t think I will.” He didn’t think twice before hauling Feyre over his shoulder and carrying her back to the kitchen, her fists pounding uselessly on his back. Thebe and his mother watched the two of them with wide smiles and his sister clapped her hands in excitement, reaching out for Feyre as Rhys put her back down.

“My turn!” Feyre raised a brow, clearly confused. But realization struck her face too late and Thebe was already reaching towards her.

“Thebe! Come on, we’re friends, right? What about being game buddies? Game buddies don’t do this to each other!” But she was a girl on a mission, and Rhys tugged Feyre towards his chest once more, ignoring how well they just fit as he held her arms down.

Thebe tickled Feyre’s neck relentlessly until she had no choice but to shield herself. Feyre turned, burying her head in Rhysand’s chest. He ignored the fact that it offered no protection to her neck and pulled her closer, disguising the movement with the laughter in his chest. Rhys would trade anything for the moment to never end.

“Okay you two,” his mother cut in. “Release the prisoner. We do want her to come back, don’t we?” Rhys finally released her, immediately missing Feyre’s warmth. She shot him a dirty look that held absolutely no bite and the twinkle in her eye and flush in her cheeks changed her face entirely, reminding him once more of how beautiful she was. It knocked the breath out of his chest for a moment.

But he finally managed to pull himself together, returning back to the carrots on the counter as Feyre settled back into the chair next to Thebe.

“Traitor,” she hissed playfully to the little girl.

“Hey, don’t mess with the Knights. Right, Thee?” Rhys cut in from across the counter, reaching out to give his little sister a high five which she excitedly returned. He caught Feyre’s eyes and the blatant happiness in them made his heart flip.

His mother watched the two with amusement, her cheeks shining with a happy blush. The knowing look she shot him had Rhys clearing his throat and returning his attention to the carrots in front of him.

“So, Feyre. Do you have any siblings?” Feyre jerked, as if shocked out of her thoughts before smiling at his mother.

“I do, actually. I have two sisters, Nesta and Elain. Both are older than me. Nesta is a freshman at Prythian and Elain is planning on going there next year too.” Feyre was twirling her pen around her finger and Rhys quickly realized it was a habit of hers. He found it adorable.

“What about you?” he found himself asking.

Feyre’s pen stilled as she looked at him, as if surprised he had asked. But how could she be? He wanted to know everything about her.

“Velaris. For art,” she said finally. “That’s where I wanna go.” Rhys hoped Feyre hadn’t noticed the change of pace of his cuts. Rhys had been born in Velaris, and had lived there until he was ten before moving to Prythian. He had loved it with everything in him. Still did. Rhys thought he was pleasantly surprised yet again by another thing he and Feyre Archeron held in common.

“Really?” his mother asked knowingly. “How come?” Feyre’s eyes lit up, taking up an almost angelic glow. Rhys tried not to stare.

“It’s gorgeous. The city itself, and the lights, and the stars, gods, I could look at the stars of Velaris for eternity.” The life in which Feyre spoke the words had Rhys meeting her gaze. And something so taut pulled between them, he thought something would snap, if not his self control.

“What’s your project on?” he croaked out instead. Feyre cleared her throat, looking away from him and down at a scribbled on piece of paper next to Thebe. Her masterpiece.

“Um,” her voice was hoarse. “Love.” Although she wasn’t looking at him, his gaze snapped to her, noticing her now red cheeks.

“Love?” asked his mother.

“Love. A piece of art that represents my definition of love,” Feyre replied, finally looking at him. Gods, she was beautiful.

“Rhysie! I wanna help!” Rhys startled, looking at his little sister who was now holding out her hands for his knife. Rhys laughed, shaking his head and placing the knife down far away from her.

“Sorry, Thee. No knife today. Actually, no knife for a while.” His sister’s gaze narrowed, ready for war. But Rhys reached over the counter, careful not to brush his arm with Feyre’s, and picked up his sister, quickly sitting her on his shoulders.

She giggled in glee and Feyre beamed at the little girl. Rhys had a feeling Thebe wasn’t the only one with a soft spot.

“Here,” he said. “You can help from up here.” He tickled the bottom of her foot and grinned as she laughed. He loved this little goofball.

“Rhysand, you drop that little girl and I will knock you on your ass so hard you won’t be able to breathe for a week,” his mother warned. Feyre let out a loose laugh at the statement and Rhys playfully glared at her. She returned it in kind.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he swore. “Scouts honor.”

“Were you in scouts?” Feyre asked.

“No,” cut in his mother. “No, he was not.” She hit the top of his head and Rhys winced through a laugh.

“Aw,” Thebe cooed from above him. She began to rub his head. “There, there. Feel better Rhysie.” Finally Rhys smiled, looking up at the pair of violet eyes that matched his own.

“Thanks Thee.”

A rustling sound had him looking back to where Feyre was. She had grabbed a piece of Thebe’s construction paper on the table and was reaching for a dark blue crayola crayon. Rhys watched as she bit her lip in concentration and her hand began to move over the paper.

Feyre looked up again only to find him watching her. He quirked a brow in question and the smile and shrug she gave him in return was the sun on a cloudy day.

“I think I found some inspiration.”

Rhys was in love with Feyre Archeron. There was no denying it, as he stared at the row of finished final products in the art studio. The snarky and quick witted girl had captured his heart and Rhys was more than willing to give it to her. She could do with it as she pleased.

He had fallen wholly and deeply for her.

And as he gazed at the bright orange paper in front of him, at the sketch of a kitchen and a mother, a son and a laughing girl, he thought he might’ve fallen a little bit more.

i love these two :)

#feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #acotar #acomaf #feysand fic #sjm #a court of thorns and roses

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epochofbelief · 4 years

Text

Breath Control, Chapter Twelve

An A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

All characters etc belong to SJ Maas!

Feysand and Elriel

Author’s Note: I promise we’re getting there ;) This chapter is a bridge to... other things...

Enjoy!

LINK TO FULL FIC

TWELVE

“Please. There’s got to be something you can do.”

It was Monday morning. I’d come to the leasing office as soon as it had opened, harboring fruitless hopes that I would somehow be allowed to rid myself of Ianthe and my unfortunate living situation.

The agent looked up at me through long lashes. “I’m sorry Ms. Archeron,” she said slowly, as though I was too dumb to understand that fixing my problem was an uphill battle, “but there’s nothing I can do.”

I sighed, my forearms resting on the tall desk in front of me, and pressed my forehead to the dark wooden surface.

“Ms. Archeron?”

“No.” I said.

“Excuse me.”

“Don’t speak to me unless it’s to tell me I can transfer my lease to another, emptier, house.”

Surprisingly, the leasing agent didn’t say a word. I raised my head an inch. “So I have to leave now?”

She nodded. I sighed. Trudged out. Climbed in my car and screamed.

Then I shifted into drive and headed to class.

-----

I met Cassian for lunch. We sat at one of the tables in the Student Union, discussing that morning’s practice. It had been Rhys’s first day back in the water. Surprisingly, he hadn’t eaten shit. He’d been a little behind but kept up fairly well. I still hadn’t spoken to him.

I was in the middle of telling Cassian about Coach King coming to me that morning and telling me he liked my progress when he suddenly set down his sandwich.

“Feyre, why won’t you just talk to Rhys?”

“The same reason he won’t talk to me. He’s guilty, there’s no changing that.”

Cassian shifted in his seat. “I just… I’ve been close with Rhys for longer than you. He would never treat a girl like that unless there was a reason. God knows I’ve tried to get him to explain what happened between you two and why, but he won’t say a word. He’s hiding something. If he fucked up and cheated, which is what I’ve gathered from vague things Mor had said, he would admit it to me. I know he would. There’s something else going on here.”

I put my elbows on the table. “Cassian. He did the same thing to me that Tamlin did, if you would be so kind as to remember. He’s obviously not over his ex, and--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. His ex? You’re not talking about Amarantha, are you?”

I nodded.

“Shit. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me. What the hell were you two doing with Amarantha around?”

I explained what had happened when we had arrived at Rhys’s father's house and how Amarantha had turned up at the club. And because it felt good to talk about it, I ended up explaining the whole story. Cassian paid attention to my every word, his frown growing deeper and deeper as I went on.

I sat back in my chair when I finished.

“Feyre, I’ve got to tell you. Amarantha was--is--messed up. She’s toxic. She never cared for Rhys. She liked that he was attractive, successful, and that his dad had money. I’ve known Rhys since our freshman year of high school and never understood why he dated her. Something’s going on that we don’t know about.”

I nodded slowly. Whatever Cassian said might be true, but if she was so ridiculous, why had Rhys gone back to her? I certainly wasn’t going to beg for him back. Even though I missed him. A lot. His sudden absence from my life had left a hole in my days, my head, my heart. He’d helped me heal and make friends after everything with Tamlin had gone down. He’d never pushed the fact that my training needed to improve immensely if I wanted to stand a chance on the team. He’d simply been there when I needed him and that had been enough. If he’d tried to come talk to me once in the past week and a half, I might have listened. But he’d kept his distance and I just couldn’t see that as anything other than a sign that there was no explanation for what he’d done.

“Thanks for the info, Cassian,” I said. “But I’m not going to beg him to explain himself. Besides, I’ve got bigger issues on my hands.” I didn’t mention that even though my living situation and now-recovering position on the team might appear like more dire problems, my separation from Rhys hurt more.

“I wish there was something I could do. I’d tell you to come stay with Az and me for free but we really don’t have any space in the house.”

I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. And thanks for hanging out with me, even after everything that’s happened.”

He leaned forward in his chair, eyes locking with mine. “Just because you and Rhys are on the outs doesn’t mean anything changes between us. We’re friends, Feyre. And teammates. I’ve got your back. If Rhys really did cheat, he’s an asshole for what he did. I just can’t help thinking that it’s possible there’s something going on with him that no one knows about.”

I smiled, despite the state of my life. “That means a lot, Cassian.”

------

~~~Elain~~~

Finals started a week from today--next Monday. I was not looking forward to it. But after finals came Christmas break! I tried to focus on that as I blinked my eyes to keep them focused. It was eleven o’clock, the library was nearly deserted, and I had just dozed off for the third time since I’d arrived. I’d had a long day and had been holed up in a corner surrounded by bookshelves for the past four hours.

I stifled another yawn. Yep, definitely time to go.

I packed up my things and made my way down the three flights of stairs and out the front doors of the library. Campus after midnight was quiet, empty. Eerie. I hustled to my car, tossing my bag in and jumping into the front seat.

I started my car, making sure to lock the doors, when my phone pinged with a message from Azriel.

Az: EMERGENCY. I’m taking an online anatomy test and I need help, Oh Goddes of Nursing School. What are you doing right now?

Me: Why are you taking this test now, may I ask?

Az: It’s due at midnight and I kind of forgot about it until right now…

Me: I’m on my way

Az: Angel

I didn’t question my decision to drive straight over to Azriel’s house. I’d never been inside before. I’d dropped Az off once and left directly after. But I hadn’t seen him all day. Plus, if he was taking an anatomy test the best way for me to help him would be if I was there. Five minutes later, I pulled up outside his house.

After a brief five minutes of sitting frozen in the front seat in a blind panic, I opened the door and stepped out onto the quiet street. You can do this, I repeated to myself for the thousandth time since getting into my car fifteen minutes ago. All Az wanted was help on a test. Right?

I marched up to the front door before I could think of an excuse to bolt. It swung open before I could knock and I realized that my five minutes of anxious deliberation had been witnessed by Cassian. He held the door for me as I entered. I glanced at him and he grinned. “Az is in his room.”

I breathed a sigh of relief that Azriel hadn’t seen me panicking in the street. I headed in the direction that Cassian had pointed and knocked softly on a door at the end of their small hallway.

It swung open. “I can’t thank you enough for this,” Azriel said, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside. His hair was a mess, his eyes wide and bloodshot. His room was fairly clean, besides the desk right next to the bed, both of which were covered with printouts that appeared to have anatomical diagrams covering them. “I have forty minutes left on this quiz and some help would be greatly appreciated. It’s open book and note, so it’s okay if you help me. I know absolutely nothing because I’m really behind in this class.”

I nodded as he led me over to his desk, gesturing for me to take a seat. I forced him to sit instead. “You’re still gonna be the one to take the quiz, Az! I’m just here to help.”

“So you’re going to hover over my shoulder this whole time?” He glanced at me from the corner of his eye as he slid out the chair and placed himself in front of his open computer, a timer ticking away in the corner of the screen.

When I didn’t answer, he turned to roll his eyes at me.

“Just sit on the bed, Elain."

I couldn’t come up with a sarcastic retort. So I did my best to appear nonchalant and plopped down on the bed.

Approximately 39 and a half minutes later, I was half asleep, my head at the foot of the bed. I stared at the ceiling as Azriel, seated about a foot away at the desk right next to the bed, submitted the quiz.

“Done.”

I nodded, unwilling to open my eyes.

I heard his laptop shut. The legs of the chair scraped across the wood floor. Then I felt the bed next to my hip sink as he sat next to me. “Elain.”

“Mmhm?”

“It’s late.”

“Mmhm.”

“I don’t want you driving home this tired… And I have practice tomorrow morning so I can’t drop you off with my car because you won’t be able to get yours back for a while… Why don’t you just stay here?”

I was so tired it was like I was watching myself agree from a thousand miles away. “Okay. Bathroom,” I said and pulled myself up using all the strength I could muster.

I washed my face as best as I could, rifled through drawers in order to locate a hairbrush, scrubbed my teeth with my finger and Az’s toothpaste. Then I returned to the room. Azriel turned to me as I entered. “You can wear this, if it’s more comfortable than your jeans.” He handed me an extremely soft grey t-shirt.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said, giving me a kiss on the forehead and then shutting himself in the bathroom.

I stripped out of my jeans, bra, and t-shirt. I pulled his shirt over me, breathing in his scent as I did so. Then I sat down on the bed, twiddling my thumbs and trying not to fidget.

He came out a moment later. And stopped in his tracks in the doorway.

“Wow.”

I froze as well. He wore nothing but boxer shorts, nearly every tanned muscle he had on display.

“Sorry, it’s just...” He glanced down, and then back up.

I blushed. Then mimicked him, my gaze sliding all the way down his body and back up.

And then he was striding across the room, grabbing my waist and pulling me up against him. I stumbled a bit, my hands coming up to rest against his chest.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hey.”

He smiled and didn’t waste another moment before he kissed me. It was soft, the kind of kiss that told me this wasn’t going anywhere. But still… I reveled in the fact that he was mine, even if he hadn’t been so for very long.

With one movement he swept me off my feet, not breaking the kiss, and carried me over to the bed. His lips moved from mine to my cheeks, nose, eyelids, forehead. I pulled him as close to me as possible, and it still didn’t feel like enough.

“Go to sleep, Elain,” he laughed.

I pulled back a little to look at him.

“I’m serious. You were passed out not ten minutes ago. We can continue this later.”

And before I could object--because I knew he was right--he turned me over, wrapped his arm over my hip and around my stomach, and pulled me close.

---------

~~~Feyre~~~

My week had been shit in some ways, great in others. I had made the travel team for next weekend! I had spent some more time with Mor, studying for finals constantly. I’d even managed to grab lunch with Elain and Azriel on Tuesday afternoon. They’d barely been able to keep their eyes off of each other, in a way that was different from when I’d seen them last Saturday. I was so happy for Elain.

And I hated myself for envying her her luck in finding someone who wasn’t a cheating asshole. Azriel and Elain’s official relationship had already outlasted mine with Rhys by more than a week. Pitiful. Absolutely pitiful.

It was Saturday evening, 5:46 pm, to be exact, when I received a phone call from a local number I didn’t recognize. I was locked in my bedroom, fairly certain Ianthe had left the house with Tamlin about thirty minutes before for a night of eating, drinking, and dancing. I just hoped they’d end up at his place for the night.

“Hello?”

“Feyre Archeron?”

“This is she.”

“Hi, I’m Evelyn from Astrid Oaks leasing office. I’m calling to let you know that you have been cleared to move out of your unit, number 33, and into the vacant room at number 101. Please be moved in before the beginning of the Spring Semester on January 8th. We’ll need you to stop by our office to sign some paperwork and return your key, but other than that you are good to go.”

Was I dreaming? They’d told me moving houses was impossible… I’d given up the cause when the lady had rejected me on Monday. Had they changed their minds, reconsidered without telling me?

I realized the leasing agent was waiting for me to say something.

“Oh! Uh, thank you. I’ll come by your office as soon as I can. Thanks.”

I hung up. Laid back on my bed. Who had done this? Had Mor made a call and talked them into it? It could have been Ianthe calling in order to get rid of me as fast as humanly possible.

I called Mor to tell her the good news and ask her about it.

“No way!” She screeched when I explained what had happened, and after a few moments of elated screaming, she asked, “How did you convince them?”

“I thought maybe you would be able to explain that to me.”

“Sorry, Feyre. I have no idea. Maybe they just changed their minds…”

“Maybe… So you’re still okay with me moving in?”

“Of course. We can move you in over Christmas training.”

“Perfect.”

-------

On Monday morning, my first day of finals and the last week of the term, I headed to the leasing office to make sure all the paperwork was squared away. Bundled up in several layers of coats, I was unwinding my scarf from around my neck in the lobby of the office when I saw him.

Rhys was standing at the unnecessarily tall front desk, his head bent over the surface in order to look at something. Hating myself for admiring the lovely view I had of his backside, I glanced around, trying to find somewhere to hide until he left.

But then he turned slightly, sliding the paper he had been reading toward the woman behind the desk. “Feyre,” he said from across the room. He shut his mouth as though saying my name had been a mistake.

“Hi,” I said. So articulate. Good going, Feyre. “What are you doing here?” I asked him, casting around for anything to say to keep this from being awkward.

“Uh…” He seemed unwilling to make eye contact with me. His eyes darted from my feet, to the wall behind my head, to his hands. “Just double checking my renter’s insurance.”

“Mr. Night, here’s your copy of the transfer paperwork.”

He cringed as the woman spoke up from behind him. Still avoiding my eyes, he turned around, retrieved the stack of paper from the woman, and then strode for the door, and consequently, for me. I moved aside, but couldn’t prevent myself from reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “What did she mean, transfer paperwork?”

His eyes cut to where my hand rested on his wrist. I pulled away slowly and he jerked backward as though I’d burned him. “She must have gotten the name wrong.” He still wouldn’t look at me.

“Rhysand…. I wasn’t born yesterday, you know.” And now I had a feeling that he had been the one to somehow get me out of my lease. “You did this,” I said quietly.

He reached out to brush my cheek. “I know you hate me… And I wish I could explain. But I still want you to be happy. I promise I’ll stay out of your way when you move in.” He finally met my eyes, and the sadness I saw there nearly broke my heart all over again.

He left before I could say another word.

-------------------------

TAGS

@queen-of-glass @aknymph @sleeping-and-books @fabfire

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rhysismydaddy · 5 years

Text

My Little Brawler - Feysand Headcannon 2

I’ll just go ahead and preface this by saying it’s long as SHIT. I went a little crazy. But here’s the second headcannon for Feysand. Thank you for the love on the last one! Next one out tomorrow.

Synopsis: Feyre Archeron is a 31 year old researcher who has devoted her entire life to her work. Her dating history is a mess, from an ex-husband to one night stands. A serious relationship? Hell no.

Rhysand Turner is a Virginia-born quarterback living it up in a football-crazy city. He doesn’t date and sticks to dumb blondes who look good on his arm and think how far he can throw a football is better than sex. Marriage? Not in a million years.

________________________________________________________________

Feyre swung the lab door closed, locked it behind her, and headed toward the hospital exit.

“Calling it a night?” Howie, the night-shift security guard asked from behind his desk.

She glanced at her watch and winced. “More like a morning now, but yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

He laughed and went back to his crossword puzzle. Nothing interesting happened in the hospital this late at night outside of the ER, so Howie was basically only there for her. Feyre frequently was the last staff member to leave the place, something her coworkers never understood.

She came in early, left late, and worked holidays. To say she was married to her job would be an understatement.

Grabbing her keys and walking out to her car, she had to admit they had a point. She’d given up her entire life for her work, but she had no regrets.

She’d made countless breakthroughs in nuclear medicine and had changed the face of chemotherapy and radiation. It payed off every day when she heard from the oncologists that one of their patients was cancer free.

As she drove to her townhouse--only four minutes from the hospital--she wondered if it was strange she preferred to be alone.

Then she remembered how she’d ended up when she committed herself to a relationship and shook her head. If you can’t trust the man you’re married to, who can you trust? No one.

She didn’t miss being married. At all. She didn’t miss having to come home from a long day at work and muster up the energy to talk about whatever was bothering him.

She did miss sex, though. She never went out, never invited anyone over. It’d been so long since she’d been with a man, she was pretty sure she had cobwebs down there.

Ignoring that thought, Feyre walked through her front door, threw her keys on the kitchen table, and went to bed. She had to be in the hospital in four hours if she wanted to get ahead of her schedule.

_________________________________

Rhysand jogged off the field, grinning at the look on his coach’s face.

“If you’re in love with me, I don’t want to know,” he joked.

Coach Matthews was at least five inches shorter than Rhys, but he reached up and smacked the back of his head anyway. He wasn’t actually mad, though. There were about three people in the world who could get away with talking trash to Adrian Matthews, and Rhys happened to be one of them.

“Shut up, smartass. I’m just excited. If you play like this tomorrow, we’ll wi-”

Rhys cut him off. “Don’t jinx me.”

A raised eyebrow. “After all this time, you’re superstitious?”

“It could be my last game,” he said, ignoring the look on the man’s face. “I don’t need any bad luck.”

He’d never admit it, but losing tomorrow’s game was easily the scariest thing in Rhys’s life.

Talent wise, there was no one better than him. He wasn’t cocky, but he knew it. He had better stats, better knowledge of the game, better everything.

But, according to sports, Rhys was old as dirt.

No matter how good you are, football isn’t a lifetime sport. Even though thirty-eight would be young to almost anyone’s standards, network channels and reporters were all wondering how long he would push on.

The guys he was competing against were all in their twenties, young and fresh and without back pain. And knee pain. And-

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, idiot. No matter what happens tomorrow, you’ve had the most impressive career as a NFL quarterback in history. So get your head out of your old ass and play the game you know how to play.”

Rhys just laughed. “My old ass? What about you? When did you even sneak out of the retirement home?”

Before Matthews could attempt to kick his ass, a beefy hand smacked into Rhys’s back and Cassian--the other person allowed to talk shit to coach--said, “Oh, I see. You made a few good passes out there and now you’re over here drinking water and gossiping with coach like a couple old ladies. Cute.”

“Both of you, get your asses home and in bed,” the coach ordered, rolling his eyes. “I cannot believe I let myself draft two hard-headed, pain in the ass hillbillies,” he muttered, walking toward the other players.

“He’s just mad because he’s in love with you,” Cassian said, throwing a thick arm around Rhysand’s shoulders, and dragging him to the locker room.

Rhys pushed him off and laughed. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“So about tomorrow-”

“I swear to god if you mention the game one more time, I’ll tell everyone you wear women’s underwear when you play,” Rhys threatened, then ducked to avoid the helmet flying towards his head.

“Shut the fuck up, man! That was one time! And I wouldn’t have done it, but you made me watch Bull Durham and it seemed like a decent idea at the time. And I wasn’t even gonna talk about the game.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow. If Cassian wasn’t talking about football, he was droning on about women, booze, or hunting. Sometimes a mixture. Before he could continue, Rhys made a bet it was women on his best friend’s mind this time.

“Anyway, me and Az were thinking we could go somewhere new tomorrow night. Regardless of how the score turns out.”

That caught his attention. The three of them had been friends since high school and had all played together till Azriel blew his knee out two years ago. They all lived in the same apartment complex still and got together almost every weekend. In all their time of friendship, they’d maybe gone to five bars. Once Cassian found a place and racked up enough of a tab, he stayed until they wouldn’t let him through the door anymore.

“Where?”

“There’s bar about twenty minutes from here. Az apparently knows the owner or something.” It made sense. After his injury, Azriel had gone into broadcasting and had made a ton of connections in the PR world.

“I don’t want to go anywhere crow-”

Cass cut him off. “He said it’s a small bar. No crowds.”

The one negative aspect of his life was the never-leaving pack of fans and paparazzi following him around. After the game tomorrow, it’d be hectic. He didn’t want to deal with that if they won, let alone if they lost.

Rhys shrugged. “Fine by me. Either way, I’ll be needing a lot of booze.”

“You’re so fucking dramatic man,” Cassian laughed. “It’s just a game.”

Rolling his eyes, “It’s the Super Bowl, idiot. It’s not just a game.”

“Okay,” his best friend and defensive tight end said lightly. “It’s a big game.”

As he thought about how a loss tomorrow could be the end of his career, Rhys could only nod and agree.

________________________________

Feyre walked through the front doors of the cancer wing and halted. John Weatherly, the Chief of Staff of the hospital--and not to mention a huge pain in her ass--stood at the threshold.

“You look annoyed,” she stated, ready for whatever lecture he was about to give her.

After all the time she’d worked for him, she’d never really gotten past her dislike of her boss. Or his misogynistic rants. Or the fact that he smelled like cigarettes. They worked in the cancer wing of the hospital, for crying out loud. And he had the nerve to smoke a cigarette every chance he got.

“I am,” he said, equally as blunt. “Are you aware you’ve worked at least 120 hours a week for the past two months?”

“Considering I log my own hours, yes.”

“That is a huge waste-”

“Are you aware that I’ve published three research articles during the past two months? Generating publicity, not to mention patients, for the hospital?”

“Considering I’m not an idiot, yes,” John snapped sourly. “But this isn’t about me. The board is implementing a new rule this week. No more work weeks over 100 hours.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but he held up a hand in annoyance. “Don’t bother. I already tried to tell them you practically live here. It’s not flexible for anyone.”

Feyre allowed herself to steam for a few moments before muttering, “Fine.” She tried to walk around him to the lab, but he stepped in her path.

“Since you’ve already worked over the limit, you’ll have to go home. Come back Tuesday.”

“Tuesday?!” she practically shouted. “Why not tomorrow? The time cards reset every week.”

“You’ve worked 115 hours this week. They told me to tell you specifically that if you want to continue to receive a paycheck from them, you will come back Tuesday.”

“This is so-”

“Have a nice two days off, Dr. Archeron.”

She couldn’t not work for two days. “What am I supposed to do all day? Just let me go get my paperwork, and I’ll work from home.”

“Feyre, I have specific orders from the hospital’s board to have the security guard escort you out if you try to go in the lab.”

Her mouth dropped open, but before she could tell him how ridiculous this was, he said, “Go home. Sleep. Watch the game.”

“Game? What game?”

It was his John’s turn to look shocked. “The Super Bowl is tonight. Did you really not know?”

“No, of course not. I don’t care about football.”

Her boss was silent, stuttered a few words, then said, “How do you not like football? You live in Boston! Rhysand Turner is practically a celebrity around here.”

She didn’t know why any medical professional would encourage grown men to smash into each other for sport, but kept that to herself. “Who is Rhysand Turner, exactly?”

“For a genius, you’re such an idiot,” he said bitterly. “He’s the quarterback about to win us the Super Bowl tonight. You should watch the game in your time off. Speaking of, leave. Now.”

“But-”

“Nope. Now.”

The urge to call him a jackass was so strong, she left before it slipped out. How ridiculous was this? She worked her ass off every day researching nuclear chemistry and the effects of chemotherapy in the body. It was important. Her work changed lives.

And they were telling her to go home and twiddle her thumbs. Or watch football.

She drove home angrily, wondering what on earth she would do with 48 hours of uninterrupted free time.

After finishing two loads of laundry, scrubbing her entire bathroom and kitchen, and grocery shopping, Feyre was bored. She tried to sit down and watch TV, but there was nothing on that interested her.

She flipped to the news, thinking she’d distract herself with politics. But no, everyone was talking about the game. Apparently, John was right. No one cared about anything except football today.

An idea popped in her head, and she smiled and picked up the phone.

“Finally!” her best friend shouted happily as she answered on the first ring. “I’ve been waiting for you to call; I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Hi, Mor,” she laughed. “I’m sorry it’s been so long. Work is-”

“-crazy, I know,” she finished her sentence. “What’s up?”

Trying not to sound bitter, Feyre said, “Well, I actually have today and tomorrow off, so I was wondering what you were doing tonight.”

A pause.

“You know I own a bar, right?” Mor asked, as if Feyre were dense.

“Yes, of course.”

Another pause, then, “And you know it’s Super Bowl Sunday, right? It’s a busy night for us. Well, as busy as a tiny ass bar in the suburbs can be.”

Feyre laughed. “Oh, no worries, I’ll see you some other-”

“Wait! Why don’t you come?”

“Oh... uh...” How could she get out of this? Fake illness?

A knowing town crept into Mor’s voice as she said, “Don’t even think about telling me you’re sick, bitch. You already said you don’t have anything to do tonight. Or tomorrow. Which means you can get drunk! Ooh, or laid!”

Feyre sighed. “Mor, I don’t want to watch a football game. And I definitely don’t want to get drunk.”

She could tell her friend was smiling as she said, “Just laid, then.”

Feyre rolled her eyes and stayed silent, trying not to think about how true that statement was.

“Fine. Come at like 11. It’ll be pretty empty by then. But you’re definitely drinking.”

She debated arguing, but Mor would likely show up and drag her out herself if she tried. “Fine. One drink.”

____________________________________________

Rhys couldn’t stop smiling as he drove himself and Cassian through the city in his truck.

“You know you’re a millionaire, right, Rhysie?” his best friend asked with a laugh.

He just rolled his eyes, having heard this argument at least 20 times. “Don’t hate on the truck. I’ve had her since senior year.”

“It’s rusting. You’re a millionaire. Buy a new one.”

“Nope.”

Cassian groaned. “Why not?”

“She’s been with me through every win, every loss, everything. You know I lost my-”

“Stop! You already told me, and I almost throw up every time I get in this ass-mobile.”

Rhys laughed and punched his shoulder, then said thoughtfully, “You know, I think it was right where you’re sitting.”

Cassian swore and scooted as close as he could get to the door.

“Don’t worry, you can get out. We’re here.”

As soon as he put the truck in park, Cassian jumped out of the cab and wiped the seat of his jeans off with his hand, making Rhys laugh.

He climbed out of the truck, his body still lined with adrenaline. He’d played his ass off, crushed the opponent, and carried his team to victory.

He supposed he had Cassian to thank, too, considering he’d also played his ass off and kept Rhys from getting pummeled.

Their success was echoing through the city on excited whispers. Both of them had already turned their phones off they were getting so many calls from team managers.

They walked into the wonderfully slow bar, nodded to the few people still around who luckily didn’t ask for pictures, and went to find Azriel.

He was sitting at the bar, chatting to the bartender. Even though the bartender was hands-down one of the most attractive women he’d ever seen, it was the woman near Azriel that gave Rhys pause.

Cassian saw the look on his face, smirked, and nodded toward the empty chair between Az and the girl.

A good end to a good night.

He winked, then slid in the chair, nodded to Az--who rolled his eyes--, and turned to the woman.

She had clear blue-gray eyes, dark blonde hair, and full lips. She was... exotic. Different.

He smiled confidently and said, “Hey. How you doing?”

It was a simple line, but one that worked countless times when paired with a southern accent.

He couldn’t tell if the look on her face was amusement or shock. “Where the hell are you from?”

That reaction was one he was used to, so he grinned and said, “Virginia.”

“What are you doing in Boston, then?”

He couldn’t stop his eyebrows from pulling together. She was in a sports bar, where his face had just been plastered on every TV for four hours, but she didn’t know who he was? “Work,” he said simply.

Rhys could feel his best friends’ eyes on him, but he ignored them. “So, what’s your-”

The girl turned to the bartender, ignoring him completely, and said, “Mor, I’m going to make a call.” She cut her eyes toward the men around her and murmured, “Watch my drink.”

Every single one of their eyebrows shot up. Did they look that much like criminals? Sure, they wore a lot of black, but every one of them were multi-millionaires. Did he come off like a date-raper or something?

The bartender, Mor apparently, rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t take it personally. Even balls to the wall drunk, she’s cautious.”

Rhys could tell there was more to that story but shrugged and asked for a beer.

Mor slid it across the counter and smiled knowingly. “She’s pretty, right?”

He just turned to Azriel and asked, “How have you been, man? Did you report the game?”

“Yeah, they had me follow your stats the whole time. Boring shit,” he replied, laughing.

“I bet you could hardly talk fast enough.”

“Cocky bastard,” Cassian muttered.

Azriel nodded to the bartender and said, “This is Mor, by the way. I’ve known her since I left the NFL. Mor, this--as I’m sure you know--is Rhysand and Cassian, although I call them Dumbass 1 and 2.”

“You’re a funny, funny man,” Rhys muttered.

Mor’s friend came back and slid into her seat. Mor put another drink on the counter. The woman raised an eyebrow. “I said one drink, Morrigan.”

“Morrigan? Jesus, you’re already drunk aren’t you?”

Before she could respond, Az said, “Mor, perhaps you’d like to introduce the guys to your friend?”

She smiled and said, “Guys, this is Feyre Archeron, my very best friend who loves me so much she’ll stay and have another drink.”

“Since you’re buying,” Feyre said sweetly, picking the drink up. “And because I know you’ll make me feel bad about leaving so soon.”

Cassian asked, his accent even thicker than Rhys’s, “Why the bad mood, gorgeous?”

She turned and leveled a look at him. “I’d rather be doing something else.”

Rhys rolled his eyes as his best friend leaned down towards the woman and smiled slowly. “Well, you should’ve told me sooner. I’d be glad to do something else with you, baby.”

Azriel and Rhys both looked at each other and shook their heads. Cassian flirted with everyone. It drove them insane, but it was at least predictable.

The woman unlucky enough to have his current affections set her drink down with a little too much aggression, making Rhys chuckle. “What’s your name?”

“Cassian,” he replied confidently.

“Cassian, believe me when I tell you I have absolutely no interest in having sex with you. Leave me alone and go shook a chicken or something.”

The look on Cassian’s face was priceless, and Rhys bit his lip to keep his laugh in. Like Rhys, he was used to women being very... open to his suggestions.

Before Cass could even retort, the woman looked to her friend and asked, “Who the hell are these guys? Your friends?”

Mor pointed to Azriel and responded, “He is my friend. Those two rednecks,” she jerked her head toward Rhys and Cassian, “I don’t vouch for.”

Rhys put a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “We’re Azriel’s friends, which makes us pre-vouched.” He turned to Feyre and smiled. “You single?”

________________________________________

“No,” Feyre said at the exact same time Mor yelled, “Yes!”

The man next to her smiled smugly. “Since you’re single, let me buy you another drink.” She opened her mouth, but he said quickly, “Say yes. It’s just one drink, darling.”

His accent was so ridiculous, it sounded like he should be riding on the back of a horse in cowboy boots and a hat.

“I said I’d have one drink,” she stated to Mor. “I’ve had two. I’m going home.”

“Of course you are.” Her best friend sighed dramatically. “You don’t care about me at all, do you? I haven’t seen you in a month, and you come to my bar and stay for all of ten minutes-”

“Mor-”

“Then try to leave, and I probably won’t see you for another-”

Feyre gave in with a huff. “Oh, my god, fine! I’ll stay. You’re so damn dramatic.”

Her best friend jumped up and down like a toddler, clapping her hands stupidly.

“Now I don’t have an excuse, do I?” She tried not to roll her eyes at how big Rhysand’s smile grin grew.

“Don’t get so excited. I’m just using you for liquor.”

“Fine by me,” he replied smoothly. “I’m trying to get you drunk.”

Despite herself, she laughed. She wasn’t used to such honesty. She definitely wasn’t going home with the guy, but she couldn’t deny how insanely attractive he was to her. The kind of attractive that drove women crazy.

He was so tall, he towered over her even sitting down. He had dark hair, tan skin, and the most unique shade of eye color. They seemed almost purple and practically glowed as they raked over her.

She turned to Mor and gestured for another drink. “You associate yourself with the strangest people.”

Mor just shrugged.

“So, what do all do for work?” she asked the men around her, trying to make conversation.

Rhys quickly said, “We’re- uh- in sports.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he didn’t give her a chance to ask any more questions. “What about you?”

She saw Mor roll her eyes, but she kept it simple as she said, “I’m a scientist.”

“That explains it,” Cassian said with a laugh.

This man had a special talent for pushing peoples’ buttons, it seemed.

She turned to him and narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to go ahead and guess that you ‘being in sports’ means you’re a football player, since everyone in this city is so obsessed with the sport. And you know what? Between the constant head trauma and the accent...” She looked him up and down with narrowed eyes, then said sweetly, “It explains a lot.”

Rhysand launched into a coughing fit. She saw Azriel glance towards Mor, but her best friend just shrugged and said, “Not a big football fan.”

“We can tell,” Cassian muttered.

“What kind of scientist are you?” Rhys asked, ignoring his friend.

Mor sighed, but Feyre said, “It’s complicated, but I’m basically a nuclear chemistry-”

“It is boring as hell, I assure you all,” Mor cut in.

Feyre rolled her eyes and sipped her drink.

Mor got a strange look on her face, bent down, and grabbed a bottle of tequila. “Who wants a shot?”

All three men at the bar raised their hand. Feyre just rolled her eyes. Looks like it was going to be a long night.

_____________________________________

As Feyre got up to use the bathroom, ignoring all of their taunts about having a small bladder, the bartender looked at Rhys and waggled her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Oh, we’re going to act like you weren’t just eyeing my best-friend’s ass?” She laughed, then said, “Feyre.”

“What about Feyre?” he said, keeping his voice neutral.

He liked her, sure. Over the past couple hours, she’d loosened up around him. She was... funny. And smart. And sarcastic.

And yeah, she was beautiful as all hell. He’d love to take her home, but... he wasn’t a relationship guy. Football took all of his time, and he traveled practically every weekend. The women he slept with were all young and didn’t care about anything other than his latest game.

Feyre was different.

“You like her, don’t you?” The bartender was nosy, that was for sure.

“She’s... serious.”

Mor raised her eyebrows, clearly waiting for him to continue, so he said, “I don’t date. And Feyre is... serious. She probably wants a relationship and marriage and all sorts of shit-”

“You know,” Mor interrupted, “I thought people were crazy for saying a southern accent makes people stupid. But you have got to be one of the biggest idiots I’ve ever met if you think that girl wants a relationship.”

“What?”

“She works over fifteen hours a day. Spends all her time in a hospital with nerds looking in a microscope. She wants nothing to do with a relationship, let alone marriage. Trust me.”

“Oh.”

The woman rolled her eyes and nodded to where Feyre was walking back to them.

Before she made it to the bar, he turned to Cassian and said quietly, “Get a ride back with Az.”

“Gladly. I hate that truck.”

He glanced toward Feyre and muttered, “Now, idiot.”

Cassian, brilliant actor he was, yawned obnoxiously and said, “Well. I’m gonna hit the hay.” He winked at Feyre. “It was nice meeting you, honey. Call me if you ever need some southern hospitality.”

She shook her head but a smile ghosted on her lips.

“I’ll refrain from the innuendo, but it was nice meeting you, too,” Azriel said to Feyre.

Mor followed the two of them toward the exit to say goodbye.

“You’ve had too much to drink to drive home,” Rhys stated as soon as they were alone. Feyre laughed, clearly onto his game.

He rose and extended a hand. “Come on. I’ll drive you back. I only had one drink.”

“Is this your version of southern hospitality?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

She seemed to consider this, then murmured, “It’s very different from Cassian’s.”

Rhys smiled. “I’d be happy to show you that version. Let me drive you home.”

“I live close to here,” she laughed. “I’m walking.”

He tried not to be too disappointed. The odds of her taking him home were slim anyway-

She slid off the stool and put a hand on his arm. “But Boston can be a dangerous city. Come with?”

_____________________________________________________

Rhysand got up from his seat and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Lead the way, darling.”

“You really have to stop calling me that. You sound ridiculous.”

She didn’t really mean it, though. His accent was... different. Sexy. He was sexy. Something he was most definitely aware of, but Feyre currently didn’t care.

Cobwebs.

He was funny and seemed nice enough and...

She ignored Mor’s knowing smile as they left, telling her she’d call her later.

“I have a feeling you’ll be busy,” she said knowingly.

She ignored that, too.

As they started the short walk toward Feyre’s townhouse, his arm still slung across her shoulders, she asked, “So, did you win tonight?”

She could feel his chest rumble as he laughed. “Yeah, we won.”

“And you played the...”

“Steelers.”

“Right. Congratulations, then.”

He seemed to think her lack of football-knowledge was amusing. “Why the hell do you live in Boston?” he asked with a smile.

She froze.

“What do you mean?” she said, trying to be casual.

She led them around a corner that led to her block.

“You hate football. You don’t like crowds. You could probably work anywhere. Why not live somewhere else?”

They walked up to her house, and she answered simply, “I moved here to do my PhD at Harvard, and they offered me a job. Made sense.”

“And do you like it here?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

She smiled, unlocked her door, and replied, “Ask me in an hour.”

He mirrored her grin, then pushed her by the shoulders through the door. “Give me two, and it’ll be your favorite place in the world.”

Feyre laughed, locked the door, then turned to him. Leaning against the door, she looked him up and down and muttered, “Clocks ticking, Rhysand.”

________________________________________________________

As Rhys opened his eyes, he was wonderfully aware of the weight atop him.

The naked weight.

Blowing Feyre’s hair out of his face, he smiled as she murmured something in her sleep. She was probably tired.

They hadn’t gotten much sleep.

Given how cautious she was when they’d first met, he’d half expected her to kick him out pretty early. Needless to say, he’d been pleasantly surprised.

When the feeling of her on top of him grew to be too tempting, he ran his fingers through her hair and murmured her name.

She shook her head, making him grin.

His fingers drifted over her back and he loved the way she felt in his arms. After a minute, she turned her head, chin resting on his chest, and looked up at him.

“Good morning,” she said simply.

He just pulled her up to him, pressing his lips to hers. She smiled against him, legs coming up to straddle his waist.

Rhys took in their position and smiled, leaning up to kiss his way up her neck. His lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “Cowgirl’s your favorite position isn’t it? And you say I’m country.”

He snickered, proud of his joke, then practically choked on the sound as she slid herself onto him. “Shit, Feyre.”

"No more jokes, Rhysand?” she murmured, rocking her hips slowly.

“Just Rhys,” he panted. He leaned forward to take one of her breasts into his mouth, and she gasped, the sound music to his ears.

“Rhys,” she moaned, fingers digging into his back.

“Yes, Feyre?” He gripped her hips to keep her still as he asked, “Do you need something?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he tried not to grin.

“I said ‘Good morning.’ Don’t make me liar.”

This woman would be the death of him. He laughed and released her hips, reveling in how she responded to every movement, every touch.

She picked up the pace, and Rhys just sat there with his teeth gritted and tried not to ruin the moment for both of them.

He could tell when she was close, her legs tightening around him, voice shaking as she called out his name. He pulled her hair, kissing up her exposed neck and across her jaw to her ear.

“Come for me, Feyre darling,” he whispered, pulling on the shell with his teeth.

She moaned, falling apart in his arms, and Rhys had to use sheer will to wait until she was done to finish.

This woman... was the definition of seduction. Even after a whole night together, he couldn’t get enough.

As they came down together, he looked at her and smirked. “Good morning.”

She smiled and kissed him, biting his lips gently. Even though he’d just had her, his body was ready for more.

He was about to flip them over when she ruined the moment and said, “You have to leave.”

She climbed off him, and he watched with amusement as she sprung from the bed, ripped the sheet off of him, and started pacing around the room.

She found his pants at him and threw them at him. “I’m serious, Rhys. I have to... do stuff.”

He ignored the clothes on his chest. They were both completely naked, and if he had anything to say about it, they’d stay that way for a while. “Like what? You told Mor you have the day off.”

“I do, but-”

“Then come here.”

She crossed her arms. “Rhysand.”

He sat up and extended a hand. “Just shut up and come here. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

_________________________________________________________

Oh, I’m sure you will, Feyre thought as she rolled her eyes and took his hand.

Then gasped as he used the other hand to rip the sheet off her and throw her on her bed.

She barely had time to process before he was on top of her, pressing kisses across her chest, down her stomach. Further.

Sweet Jesus, she thought. The man hadn’t let her sleep more than two hours last night. Not that she was complaining. The cobwebs were completely gone, that was for sure.

A moan escaped her lips as his teeth scraped her thigh, and he chuckled. She was about to flick his shoulder, but then his lips slid higher, and every thought emptied our of her head.

She couldn’t keep herself still as he kissed her, so he held her hips with both hands.

Hers found themselves in his hair and she pulled as he ran his tongue up her center.

“Rhys, baby,” she panted. She didn’t care how she sounded. Didn’t care about anything but the sight of his head buried between her legs.

She didn’t know if it was because she was out of practice or because he was some sort of sex god, but she was already close. Again.

By the time she came, her entire body was limp with pleasure and she was close to seeing stars.

When she opened her eyes, he was above her, smirking like a cat.

He leaned down to kiss her, but she flicked his nose in annoyance.

“If you try and fuck me again before I get some food, I’ll strangle you.”

Ignoring the warning, he buried his head in her neck and tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Feyre darling.”

She laughed against her better judgement, but pushed his shoulders until he let her up. If she didn’t eat something, she might pass out when they went again.

She grabbed his t-shirt from last night and threw it on as she walked to her kitchen. It came down to practically her knees, making her look ridiculous, but she didn’t care. It was soft and big and smelled like him.

“Pancakes?” she asked, turning around to catch him looking at her in amusement. At what she was wearing.

She raised an eyebrow, daring him to say something.

“Pancakes would be great.”

Feyre ignored the look in his eyes and started cooking. And kept ignoring it as he watched.

Every time she looked at him, he looked like he was five seconds away from throwing her over his shoulder and dragging her back to bed.

The idea of messing with him a little more was too tempting to ignore.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered secretively, reaching into her fridge.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but gave in when she raised her eyebrows.

She used a finger to tip his head backward, then whispered, “Open your mouth.”

His lips curved into a smile, then opened. She took the can of Ready Whip and sprayed some whip cream in his mouth, laughing as his purple eyes shot open, full of amusement.

“Cute,” he muttered, swallowing the whip cream.

She leaned in and licked some of the remainder off his bottom lip. He froze, then reached for her. Before he could get those arms around her, she walked to the stove and took the pancakes off.

Sliding an unhealthy amount toward him, she said, “Eat your breakfast, dear.”

Rhys gave her an annoyingly perfect smile and devoured the food. She looked at him as he ate, wondering how he looked like a Greek god when he ate like... that.

He looked up as he finished and laughed at the look on her face. “Baby, don’t invite a football player over if you don’t expect him to eat all your food.”

She took their plates and stuck them in the sink. When she turned around, he immediately strode over and grabbed her face, pulling her lips to his.

He kissed her thoroughly, then pulled back far enough to say, “Meet me in your bedroom.” Another kiss. “And Feyre? Bring that whip cream.”

__________________________________________________________

By the time Rhysand left, Feyre could hardly stand up. She had no idea how she was going to make it through her shift tomorrow, given that she was so exhausted she could sleep probably for a day straight.

That’s when she realized that for the first time in her career, she didn’t want to go to work. She wanted to call Rhysand and tell him to come back.

That’s not an option.

A relationship was out of the question. It’d be cruel to him to invite him back, knowing it would never go anywhere. For all she knew, he was trying to settle down. With a nice girl who’d give up her life to have his babies and be a football wife.

Hell no.

As she got out of the shower, giggling at how shaky her legs were, she told herself to forget him.

But when the phone rang, she was surprisingly disappointed when she looked at the caller id and saw it wasn’t him.

As soon as she picked up, Mor practically yelled, “How was it?!”

“How was what, Mor?”

“The sex last night, idiot. Was it good? I bet it was good. You don’t look like that and not have a seriously huge-”

“Mor! Calm down.”

She could tell her best friend was enjoying this way too much. “I’ll calm down when you tell me. Everything.”

Feyre laughed, then gave in and asked, “What do you want to know?”

“How long did he stay? Oh, you made him walk back to his truck in the middle of the night, didn’t you? Mean woman.”

When she didn’t respond, Mor pushed, “Unless you didn’t. When did he leave, Feyre? Hm?”

“An hour ago,” she admitted.

The howl that Mor let out was practically inhuman. “Oh my god! You nasty bitch! Or, wait. Is he the nasty bitch?”

Feyre laughed. “You have no idea.”

“I cannot believe you let him stay all day. He must be good. He’s good isn’t he?”

She didn’t have to think back to remember the answer to that question. “You have no idea,” she repeated.

Mor laughed. “I’m so happy for you. Are you seeing him again?”

“No, probably not.”

She stopped laughing. “And why the hell not?”

“I don’t date. It wouldn’t be fair to him to keep sleeping with him and lead him on-”

“You’re both idiots.”

That stopped her. “What?”

Mor sighed on the other end of the call. “He doesn’t date. At all. He’s seen with 20 year old blondes who probably don’t know their head from their ass. You don’t have to worry about him trying to tie you down.”

“Oh,” she said stupidly.

Of course he wasn’t the dating type. He was a professional athlete. Women probably threw themselves at him.

“For someone so smart, you really are an idiot.”

“You have a point. Look, I have to go. I’ll call you later.” It was only eight PM, but she could hardly keep her eyes open.

“Worn out, aren’t you?” Mor asked in a knowing voice.

“Good night, Morrigan.”

____________________________________________________________

Rhys wasn’t surprised to see Azriel and Cassian in his apartment when he got back the next day.

“You dirty dog,” Cassian said smugly, throwing a pillow at his head.

Rhys smiled and told him to shut his fat mouth. “What are you idiots doing here? Get evicted?”

“Waiting on your ass,” Azriel said. “We’re going out.”

“Not everyone got laid last night,” Cassian said sourly. “Ruined a good win.”

Az and Rhys both ignored him. “Wanna come?”

“I’m gonna crash, actually. I have an early meeting tomorrow with coach.” It was an excuse; he’d barely made it home without falling asleep at the wheel.

“Mmhm, an early meeting with coach,” Cassian said knowingly. “More like a late night with a pretty blonde.”

Rhysand just winked and said, “We made sure to avoid your seat in the truck.”

“Disgusting,” his best friend said bitterly as the pair walked toward the door. “I hate that truck.”

As soon as the door swung close behind them, Rhys showered and passed out.

_______________________________________________________

Three days later, Rhys was watching highlights from the game when his phone rang. He smiled as he saw the caller ID.

“Unless the hospital is calling to tell me I’m dying,” he said as he picked up, “I’m going to assume this is Miss Feyre Archeron.”

“Wow, an athlete with a brain,” the sarcasm flowed through the line clearly.

“I’m a package deal, baby. So, what’s up?” If this was a booty call, he’d make her say it. He’d definitely give in, but he’d make her ask first.

“I don’t date,” she blurted suddenly.

He paused, then said, “Me either.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he just mimicked, “Okay.”

“Then come over.”

Rhysand smiled, looking at his watch. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

_____________________________________________________

Two months later, they’d spent practically every night together. Either he’d stay at her house and get kicked out at the ass crack of dawn when she left for work, or she’d stay with him and he’d wake up alone.

On the rare days her boss forbade her from working, they’d spend all day together, running errands, cooking, fooling around. Hell, she’d even come to one of his football practices. “Out of pure boredom,” she’d claimed.

He’d never tell her, but seeing her had become the best part of his day.

Sure, he’d resigned his contract for the next year to keep his dream job, but even that paled in comparison to her coming over. He’d started to depend on her. He’d started to care about her.

Only Cassian--who gave him shit about it daily--knew. And had been told to keep his mouth shut about it.

Because he knew that as soon as he told Feyre, she’d bolt. He just had no idea why.

Sure, he’d said he didn’t date. He was thirty-eight and had a terrible relationship track record, having only had a handful of serious ones. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try, right?

He’d never felt like this before... never been so desperate to spend time with someone. And it wasn’t just the sex like he’d thought for the first few weeks.

Because even when they weren’t having sex, he wanted to be around her. Wanted to hear her laugh, the one she let out when he surprised her or she made fun of his accent. Wanted to see her smile. Wanted to see her asleep in his bed, wearing his t-shirt.

He wanted her.

Ridiculous.

The first woman to openly not want a relationship with him, he can’t get out of his mind.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he noticed her staring up at him. “What?” he asked, worried everything he’d been thinking was written on his face.

“Nothing,” she said for the fifth time, stifling a giggle.

He rolled his eyes. “Just say it.”

“I cannot believe Dirty Dancing is your favorite movie!” She exploded, gesturing to the screen as if he were blind. “You’re a football player.”

“Which means I can’t have a good taste in movies?”

She shrugged. “It’s just not what I was expecting when you suggested we watch a movie. I figured you just wanted to come out here and have sex again.”

He grinned. “I did that for your sake. I figured if we stayed in bed any longer, you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

With her head on a pillow in his lap, she looked completely adorable as she looked up and stuck her tongue out at him. “How considerate.”

“Southern hospitality knows no limits.”

As they watched the movie, Rhys couldn’t help but sneak glances at her. She was... distracting. The ocean eyes, full mouth, and delicate features were pretty much a constant distraction for him.

When the final scene started playing out, Rhys grinned like an idiot and said, “Dance with me, Feyre Archeron.”

“What?”

“Come on. I wanna show you something.” He took her hand, hauled her off the couch, and took her to the biggest open space in his apartment.

He put his hands on her shoulders and told her to stay put, then walked to the other side of the room.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she said immediately, realizing what he had planned. “Absolutely not.”

Rhysand laughed and said, “Run and jump.”

“Hell no! You’ll drop me.” She crossed her arms and stayed put.

He rolled his eyes. “I promise I won’t drop you. You’re about a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

“No.”

“Chicken.”

“Excuse me?” she asked incredulously. “You seriously think that’s going to work on me?”

“Yep.”

“You’re right,” she admitted, barely giving him any time to prepare as she ran toward him, yelped, and jumped.

His hands wrapped around her waist as he lifted her up above his shoulders. She hollered like a wounded cat, but she stayed in the air and lifted her legs as he spun her around slowly.

She giggled as he held her up, and the sound was so adorable that as he let her down, he slowly dipped her. Her hair brushed the floor as he held her, wrapped his arms around her, and pressed a kiss to her lips.

He could tell she was surprised when she froze, but then she melted into him.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close and opened her mouth for him. It was like it was the first time they’d kissed, and he couldn’t get enough. He kissed her like his life depended on it, and she responded to every movement. She sighed into his mouth and he drank the sound in.

When he finally brought her back up and pulled away, she had tears in her eyes.

“What?” he asked, concerned.

Feyre’s brow was creased as she brought a hand to her mouth. “I have to go,” she whispered.

“Feyre.”

She paced around his apartment, picking up her clothes and throwing them on as she went. “I have an early morning tomorrow.”

“You always have an early morning. What’s wrong?”

She pulled her boots on, zipped her jacket, and smiled tightly. “Nothing’s wrong. I’ll... see you later.”

He didn’t have time to say anything before she sped out the door.

Shit.

______________________________________________________

“He kissed me,” she said as soon as Mor answered the phone.

A pause. “He hasn’t kissed you before?”

Feyre sped down the road to her house, explaining, “Of course he’s kissed me. But this was different. He dipped me, Mor. Like actual dipping. And he kissed me. Not to get in my pants, but just because. Like he couldn’t stop himself.”

“Oh. You think he has feelings for you?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to find out.” This was the last thing she needed. The past month had been good. So good.

But it had to end. She didn’t want a relationship... even if the idea of never seeing him again hurt so much she couldn’t breathe.

He’d become someone to her in the two months they’d spent together. And even though it’d hurt like hell, she had to cut it off. Before it got worse.

“Feyre-”

“Don’t ‘Feyre’ me. I’m fine.”

Her best friend didn’t let up. “No, you’re not. Ever since Tamlin, ever since that night, you haven’t been fine.”

“Stop talking. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“Mor-”

“He hurt you, and now you don’t trust men. You got freaked out tonight because this thing with Rhysand could be real, and you’re scared. You’re scared if you let yourself love him, he’ll hurt you.”

Feyre suddenly yelled, “Wouldn’t you be?”

The line went silent, so she continued, “Yeah, I’m fucked up because of my marriage. It’s pretty easy to figure out. But wouldn’t you be? I was with Tamlin for eight years! Did you know that after hearing your worthless and pathetic and that you deserve what happens to you for so long, you start to believe it? So unless you’ve dealt with that for eight years and been trapped in a marriage to someone like that for eight years, don’t you dare bring it up to me. I have to go.”

She didn’t give Mor a chance to respond as she hung up.

She pulled into her driveway, took a deep breath and told herself the tears flowing down her cheeks were from her fight with Mor.

_______________________________________________________

“We’re closed,” Mor yelled as Rhys walked in the bar, then looked up and froze. “Oh.”

“Tell me, Mor. Tell me what happened to her.” He knew there was a reason she’d been freaked out after he kissed her. He just didn’t know what it was.

“To who?”

He came and sat in one of the bar stools, leveling a look at her. “To Feyre. Why did me kissing her send her running for the hills? I know she told you. She hasn’t answered my calls in six days.”

She shrugged, trying to make herself look casual. “Maybe she’s just not into you.”

“She’s into me.”

Mor snapped, “Maybe she’s not.”

His eyes softened, and she knew he saw it for the lie it was. “What happened to her?”

He could tell she was struggling with not telling him. She might not. But he wanted to fight for her. Wanted to make her happy. He just had to know how.

She took a deep breath and said, “Feyre and I used to live in New York, you know. That’s where we’re from. And Feyre was married.”

He nodded for her to continue.

“They got married young, and he... changed. He... just.. he was so angry. All the time.” She took a shaky breath.

“At first, I didn’t notice it. I didn’t see that anything was wrong. But one night, about five years into their marriage, I went to their apartment for dinner, and I saw that she had makeup on her cheek. Not a lot, but... like she was covering something up.” A tear that rolled down her cheek.

“And he saw. That bastard saw me notice it.” She wiped her cheeks, trying to compose herself. “And I didn’t see her for three years. He wouldn’t let her go anywhere besides work. And he hardly let that happen.”

Rhys closed his eyes sadly, but she continued. “I didn’t see my best friend for three years. Until she showed up in the emergency room.”

His eyes snapped open.

“I’m her emergency contact. I don’t know why she never changed it when she got married, but she didn’t. So I got the call, and drove to the hospital, and she was-”

She swallowed a sob. “She was in a coma for two days.”

Mor cleared her throat. “When she woke up, I don’t know how to describe it. She was... different. I helped her divorce him and get a restraining order, but it wasn’t easy. He controlled all her shit. Bank accounts, everything. She was never the same. We left, packed up, and moved to Boston together. She didn’t want him to know where she lived. I think... sometime I think she’s still scared he’ll track her down.”

“It took her three years to even go on a date. Another to have sex. She says she’s fine, but ever since that night, she won’t let herself actually let anyone in her life. She’s always been a workaholic, but after what happened... I don’t know. It’s like moving on, having a life, makes her remember her life before.”

Mor sobbed, “And I don’t know how to help her. Because he’s a cop, you know. That’s why it was so hard for her to leave him. We had to go to the freaking governor to get the restraining order.”

A sob wracked her body, so Rhys leaned across the bar and pulled her into a hug. It made sense. Why him showing any sort of feelings freaked her out. Why she’d been cautious around him, Cassian, and Az when they’d first met. Why she didn’t want a relationship with him.

But it didn’t mean he couldn’t fight for her. That he couldn’t tell her that he’d never hurt her.

“Mor,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

She pulled back and wiped her eyes. “Well, now you do.”

“I want to be with her.”

She nodded, and smiled sadly. “I know.”

“And she wants to be with me, too.”

Mor nodded again. “Go get your girl, Rhysand. But, just be careful. And I swear to God, if you’re anything like him-”

“I’m not,” he interjected.

“-I’ll shoot you. I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

“I’m never going to hurt her. You can count on that. Do you think she’s still at the hospital? If she’s not going to answer the phone, I’m gonna track her ass down.”

________________________________________________________

Feyre scribbled down her note, then peered back into the microscope. She knew it was late, but it’s not like she had anywhere to be. The thought sent a pang through her chest, but she ignored it.

She was so distracted thinking about how big of a mess she was that she didn’t hear him come in the lab.

“Feyre,” a familiar male voice said from behind her.

She spun around and opened her mouth to scream, but he was faster. She cried out as his fist connected with her ribs, but he stifled the noise when he slapped a hand over her mouth and shoved her against the door.

She tried to swing a fist toward him, but he pinned her arms against the door.

“It’s been a long time,” Tamlin said, smiling. “It took me a long time to track you down. You know how I found you? Paparazzi posted a picture of you leaving some football player’s apartment at three in the morning. Little whore.”

She whimpered as he squeezed her jaw.

“So I came to see you. At first, I wanted to punish you. You were my wife. Mine. And then you go and divorce me. For no reason. I wanted to know why.”

Howie, she thought desperately. If she could signal Howie, he’d come and save her.

She ignored what he was saying, blocked it out, and bit his hand as hard as she could.

Tamlin jumped back with a surprised yelp and she barely had a chance to scream before his fist connected with her eye. She fell to the ground and he kicked her in the side, making her curl into a ball.

“You bitch! Why are you screaming? If you’re trying to get that fat security guard, he can’t hear you.”

No one’s coming. A tear ran down her cheek onto the floor.

“Now, as I was saying,” he continued as if nothing had happened. “At first, I wanted to punish you. I had it all planned out.”

He knelt on the floor, brushing the hair off her cheek.

“But then I realized something. I realized you ruined my life. You told everyone I worked with, hell you told the governor, that I abused you. You got me kicked off the force.”

“Why are you here? What do you want?”

Please leave please leave me alone-

“I want you to suffer for what you did-”

“I do-”

Her cheek stung as a palm connected with it, making her cry out.

“Do not interrupt me again.” His voice was so cold, so calculating. “I want you to suffer. I want you to lose everything, like I did. But the only thing you ever cared about is work. And I couldn’t get you fired. No, you’re too good at your job.”

She shook with fear as he smiled down at her.

“But then I thought, if the job won’t lose you, you can lose the job.”

He ran a thumb over her lip, and she was paralyzed with fear when she realized the bitter taste in her mouth was gas.

“What did you do?” she asked softly.

His fist closed around her throat. She clawed at his hand, kicked at him, tried everything, but she was stuck. It had never mattered how hard she fought.

When her vision started to fade, he let go.

“Don’t question me,” he snapped as Feyre hauled oxygen into her burning lungs.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a lighter, grinning down at her.

Feyre’s stomach bottomed out.

She had to think, had to do something. Or else she was going to die in here.

“You were so consumed by your work, you didn’t even smell the gas I lined this fucking room with. Always so distracted by your work.”

He laughed softly, “And now you’ll burn with it.”

He flicked the lighter open, and time seemed to stand still. Feyre didn’t let herself hesitate as she reached onto the counter, grabbed the beaker she knew was sitting there, and broke it over Tamlin’s head.

He swore and closed the lighter, then swung at her. She rolled away from him, placing a kick in between his legs that had him gasping for air.

She got up and sprinted for the door. Her fingers were closing around the handle when he caught up to her, grabbing her head and slamming her face into the metal door frame.

Feyre sank to the floor, and Tamlin knelt in front of her. She tasted blood, felt it running down her face, and knew from experience her nose was broken.

As he punched her in the stomach, she could tell she’d have a ruptured spleen.

He was still dripping wet from the beaker, but he leaned close and laughed.

He opened the lighter close to her face, the heat warming her skin.

“You always were a fighter.”

This is it. If she didn’t fight now, it was over. He’d drop that lighter, and they’d both go up in flames. Together at last.

Gritting her teeth, she told herself she wasn’t going to die here tonight. She was going to live.

She was going to kill her ex-husband.

Bringing her knees close, she rallied her strength and kicked his chest as hard as she could. As he fell backward, she jumped to her feet.

Before he could react, she grabbed the lighter out of his hand, threw it on his chest, and rushed out the door.

What Tamlin hadn’t realized when he’d lined the room with gas was that there were more chemicals in there than anywhere else in the hospital. He didn’t even have to use gasoline. But now that he had, one open flame, and the whole place was going to blow.

She ignored the growing flames on the other side of the glass as she engaged the door’s security lock. Ignored Tamlin’s screams as the petrol from the beaker reacted with the oxygen in the air and the present flame, erupting in flames twenty times hotter than usual.

She ignored everything happening around her except Rhysand.

Rhysand, who was running toward her, a confused and terrified look on his face.

She had no idea what he was doing here, but she sprinted full force at him, also ignoring the fact that he was a professional football player. She wrapped her arms around him and tackled him to the ground as the room behind her erupted.

Glass and debris and pieces of paper still on fire rained down on them as she looked down at him.

She laid on top of him, shielding him as best she could, and grabbed his face. Please be alive, please be alive.

His eyes shot open, arms coming around her to brush debris off her back.

“Feyre, are you all right? What the hell happened?” His voice was fuzzy, like she was underwater.

She probably had a concussion from where Tamlin had slammed her against the door.

Tamlin.

Tamlin was dead. She’d killed Tamlin.

“He’s dead,” she whispered. “He’s dead.”

Rhys was shaking her, telling her to stay awake. Alarms were going off, the sprinkler system sensing the fire and raining a flood down on them.

He was screaming her name.

She just looked at him and smiled softly. “I love you, by the way,” she whispered. Like it was the easiest thing she’d ever said. Like she’d been waiting to say it.

“I love you,” she whispered again.

Then passed out.

_______________________________________________________

There was something warm and heavy on her lap. And it had hair.

She opened her eyes and looked down at Rhys, peacefully sleeping with his head resting on her legs.

Gently, she ran a hand through his hair.

She was in a hospital bed, that much was obvious. There were probably police men outside waiting for a statement from her about why her much-beloved lab had been blown to pieces under her watch.

She knew from experience that as soon as she officially woke up, she’d be surrounded be nurses and police officers and doctors asking how she felt and...

She ran a finger down Rhys’s cheek.

She knew he was awake when his mouth twisted into a smile and he murmured, “Do that again.”

She did.

His eyes opened to meet hers, full of worry and passion and anger.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi.” He picked his head up and put a hand on her cheek. “You’re so beautiful. This gown suits you.”

She knew he said it to distract her, and smile tugged at her lips, even as tears sprung to her eyes.

She was in the hospital. Again. Because of her ex-husband. And Rhys was here. He’d probably never look at her the same after this. Would probably pity her now.

He leaned in, and she thought he was about to kiss her, but his mouth landed on her cheek instead. As he licked her tear off her face.

“That’s disgusting,” she murmured, not pushing him away as he moved to the other cheek.

He pulled back and grinned.

“Mor told me about your ex-husband,” he said softly.

Before she could reply, he surprised her by murmuring, “And I honestly don’t know why you say you don’t have any country in you.”

Had he hit his head when she’d tackled him?

“What?”

“Considering you barbecued his ass,” he finished with a laugh.

Despite how awful and wrong that was, a giggle escaped her. And another. And another, until she was laughing along with him.

“That’s so fucked up,” she said, still smiling.

“Yeah, it is, but it’s all I’ve been able to think for the past four hours.”

Then his smile faded and his eyes grew serious. He put both hands on her face and pulled her close to him. “Feyre.”

“Rhysand.”

“It’s over now. He’s never going to hurt you again. No ones ever going to hurt you again. I’m so proud of you.” He said it all in the softest tone possible, and it made her chest hurt with how much she needed those words.

“I killed him,” she whispered, the reality of it crashing into her.

He shook his head. “You defended yourself. He was going to kill you. You fought like hell, and you won.”

Feyre nodded, pulling him closer until his weight was on top of her and his arms were around her.

“You kicked his ass,” he murmured through her hair. “My little brawler.”

She smiled, running her hands over his back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her.

She pulled back far enough to say, “What do you possibly have to be sorry for?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here faster and I didn’t protect you-”

“Rhysand.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head and flicked his nose. “Shut up.”

“Okay.”

He hugged her again. “You should know,” he said a moment later, pulling back to give her a smile, “that Mor is outside with Azriel and Cassian.”

“Oh, God.”

“Yeah. I think they had to give Mor a sedative to calm her down. I’ll go get her if you want.”

Feyre shook her head, deciding to give herself another moment before dealing with that brand of crazy.

“Do you remember what you said to me? After you tackled me? Which, by the way, was insanely sexy.”

She knew under the humor was a twinge of anxiety, so she said, “I could talk about the homo-eroticism of what you just said, but I’ll give you a break. You’re under a lot of stress.”

Rhysand grinned and raised an eyebrow.

“I love you,” she murmured. “You know I do.”

“I do,” he replied smugly, smirking like a cat. “I love you, too.”

He leaned down and kissed her softly, ignoring the probably nasty black eye and bruised jaw. He kissed her, and she didn’t care about anything in the world.

Until the door banged open.

“You’re awake and you didn’t tell me!” Mor screeched, running in the room and throwing herself on Feyre, bruises be dammed. “Of course you didn’t because you wanted a chance to make out with your boyfriend before you did. Selfish, Feyre! Selfish!”

“Mor,” she muttered, hugging her back tightly. “I’m awake.”

“You’re such a bitch,” he best friend laughed.

“I love you, too.”

Rhys laughed and got out of his chair, probably going to talk to his friends and update them.

For the first time in years, everything felt right. It felt good. She was excited for tomorrow, not because of work, but because for the first time in a long time, she had people in her life she was going to fight to keep there.

For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid.

_____________________________________________________

FUCK sorry this is so long! I literally had no intention of taking this route when I started writing it, but shit happens when it’s 2 am and you’ve had a long week.

As always, feel free to send me requests/asks/whatever. I love hearing from yall.

@bamchickawowow

#feysand #feysand fanfiction #rhysand #feyre #feyre archeron #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of dreams #a court of starlight and frost #feyreandrhysand #feyre darling #feyre x rhysand

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fawsldaily · 4 years

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Fishlock, Wales’ all-time leading appearance-maker with 113 caps to her name to date, links up with Kelly Chambers’ side ahead of the Royals’ FA WSL restart – which comes in the shape of a trip to Arsenal on Saturday 5th September.

After breaking through to the Cardiff City ranks as a 16-year-old – where she made her debut against Reading – she made her first move to foreign shores in 2008 to join Dutch side AZ Alkmaar, and helped the club to consecutive Eredivisie titles in each of her two full seasons with the club.

Jess returned to the UK to join Bristol Academy in 2011, and played an eye-catching role in a side which reached the FA Women’s Cup final and finished fifth and fourth in the FA WSL during her two years – as well as a host of personal honours.

Her intercontinental travels began in 2012, when she became an instant hit as a Melbourne Victory player and scored some vital goals – including a 94th minute winner against Canberra United – as Victory reached the W-League Grand Final.

She was snapped up by Seattle Reign – the former name of OL Reign – for the inaugural NWSL season in 2013. After an eye-catching first season in the USA, she spent the off-season with a couple of productive loan spells… firstly by helping Glasgow City to win a league and cup double and making her Champions League debut, before then returning to Melbourne as a loanee at the end of her first season – this time helping Victory go one better and beat Brisbane Roar in the final.

And that has been a theme of her career: alongside representing Reign since 2013, where she won the NWSL Shield alongside the likes of Megan Rapinoe and Kim Little in both 2014 and 2015, she has also continued making major impacts during loan spells, too.

Her loan spells in Europe have twice harvested UEFA Champions League winners’ medals – firstly for FFC Frankfurt in 2015, and then starting in a 4-1 win for Lyon over Barcelona in 2019 as the French side completed the treble.

Between those forays back to Europe, she spent three hugely productive stints back in Australia, representing Victory’s near-neighbours Melbourne City. Not only did she win the W-League Grand Final in each of her three seasons, but she also used the opportunity to embark on her coaching career at a senior level. The highlight came in 2017 – scoring in a 2-0 win in the final against Perth Glory, as well as managing the team!

And now it is Reading FC Women who will benefit from her service when the 2020-21 season kicks off.

Manager Kelly Chambers said, "Jess is a world class player that has a wealth of experience at the very top level of the women’s game. "Not only does Jess have incredible experience behind her, she also possesses a fantastic understanding of the game that will only help the players around her on the pitch and our team to progress. "What I love about Jess is that she is still so hungry to develop and learn and I’m so excited to work with her over this period. It’s fantastic to bring Jess to our club."

"I am super excited to be joining Reading on loan," said Jess. "It's nice to be home and I am thankful for the opportunity. "I can't wait to get started and I'm really looking forward to helping Reading push on to another level."

#fawsl #reading wfc #jess fishlock

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theladyofdeath · 5 years

Text

A S H E S {4}

ACOTAR fanfiction, Cassian x Nesta. Modern AU, in Velaris.

Summary: Cassian gets injured in battle and the scars are permanent, leaving him forced to go home to Velaris. Although he’s happy to be home with his family and friends, being back proves to be far more difficult than he expected.

A/N: And so it continues.

Fanfic Masterlist

It had been a long week.

Cassian had gone to Velaris High every day right when the school day started and spent all day in his office, learning plays and about his team. Practices went well. The kids were all well behaved and respected him greatly.

He was actually enjoying himself.

It was Friday afternoon, the hot sun still high in the sky as practiced wrapped up.

“Alright,” Cassian said, loudly, in the huddle. “Next Friday is our first game. We’ve come a long way this week. Everyone’s doing great. Have a good weekend, don’t make too many bad decisions.” A few of the grins on his team's faces told him that direction would be ignored. “I’ll see you all Monday.”

They put their helmets up in the air, clustered together, and shouted Vikings before they dispersed off the field and into the locker room.

Cassian turned around to clean up the equipment on the sidelines to find a visitor sitting on the bench.

“Come to admire the coach?” He asked.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “I came to tell the coach that he’s full of himself.”

Cassian chuckled. “Fair enough. Going out with your sisters tonight?”

She sighed. “Yeah. Feyre got a sitter, so it’s just the three of us, which hasn’t happened in forever. What are the boys doing?”

“Sitting at the apartment, drinking.”

Nesta laughed. “So, some things haven’t changed.”

Cassian grinned. “No, except now it’s legal and we don’t have to sneak the beer past our parents.”

Nesta laughed, a twinkle in her eyes. “That was fun.”

“Yeah,” Cassian said, voice becoming gentler. “It was.”

“I’m picking you up at eight tomorrow, by the way.”

Cassian froze from where he was putting a football into a giant drawstring bag. “What?”

“Our date.”

“No, I know, but...I mean, I was planning on picking you up.”

Nesta stood, brushing off her violet skirt. “Too manly to break tradition?”

“I-no-“

“Then I’ll see you at eight,” she said, a grin on her pink lips. “Bye, Nazari.”

Cassian didn’t move, didn’t say goodbye as he watched her walk off the field and disappear behind the bleachers.

———

“You and Nesta? A date? It’s about damn time.”

Rhysand was lying on the carpet of Azriel’s living room, already feeling the whiskey.

Cassian shrugged from his seat on the couch. “She seems excited about it. Well, as excited as Nesta can get.”

Azriel huffed a laugh before downing the rest of his bottle. “She even told Elain about it. That’s saying something.”

“Thinking about you and Elain,” Cassian began, “when are you gonna pop the question?”

Azriel looked away as the tips of his ears turned pink. “I don’t know. Soon. Maybe.”

“Being married is the best,” Rhys slurred. “Especially when your wife is a freak, like mine.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Feyre will be pleased to hear such a compliment.”

Rhysand just laughed before popping open another bottle. “I’m just saying. There’s nothing better than promising yourself to your soulmate. One person who knows you better than anyone. And, you can have sex whenever you want.”

“Az already does that,” Cassian winked, sending Azriel’s ears into chaos again.

“Anyways, we were talking about you and Nesta,” Azriel said, clearing his throat.

Cassian shook his head. “Nothing more to say.”

Azriel And Rhys exchanged a glance.

“Since when did you become so….private?” Rhys asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he dragged out the last word.

Cassian wasn’t sure how to answer that, although he doubted Rhysand would even remember asking the question when the morning arrived.

He had become private, in his time away. Not at first, exactly, but over time. As time had gone on, Cassian had hardened, slowly, more and more. Although he was good at putting on a light, carefree show, he didn’t open up as he once did.

Cassian shrugged. “Not being private, there’s just nothing more to say.”

Azriel tossed his empty bottle onto the rug. “You two were the couple everyone thought would get together after high school, get married, have kids…”

Cassian pulled out his phone, scrolling through his newsfeed when he said, “So?”

“I’m just saying,” Azriel began, opening a new bottle and bringing it to his lips. “It’s not like this is some random girl you’re taking on a date. It’s Nesta. There’s history there.”

Rhysand nodded and mumbled his agreement.

They were right, of course. It wasn’t a normal first date. There was history. They had been best friends all through high school, and he had fallen in love with her during their senior year. They’d talked about starting something, but then Cassian had joined the army, and that was that.

“It’s like picking up on the tenth date,” Rhysand followed, blinking rapidly. “You gonna take her back to her place? Invite yourself inside? Get some?”

Cassian sat down his phone and took a drink. “Get some?”

“Sex,” he whispered, making Azriel chuckle and Cassian roll his eyes.

“Thank you, dumbass,” Cassian said. “I don’t plan on getting any.”

Rhysand frowned, looking into his bottle to find it empty, completely forgetting he was a part of the conversation.

“Do you think Nesta thinks that?” Cassian asked, looking to Azriel. “That it’s like starting on the tenth date? Has Elain said anything?”

“No.” Azriel shook his head. “Just that she’s excited.”

Cassian nodded, hoping the subject would be dropped.

Rhysand soon found humor in his hands, which he randomly thought to be massive, sending Azriel into a laughing fit of his own.

He’d have to cut them both off soon. Either cut them off, or watch them make fools of themselves.

The latter sounded more fun.

But Cassian couldn’t drink anymore.

He couldn’t do much of anything.

Because now he was nervous as hell for his date with Nesta.

_______

It was almost eight o clock and Cassian was staring at the handful of outfits he had in his bag. Shopping for something new would’ve been a good idea...if he’d thought of it two hours earlier. He would’ve borrowed something from Azriel, but all of his clothes were too tight.

So, that left Cassian to stare at his shit while wearing nothing but his raggedy old boxers.

Sighing, he grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them on, just as she knocked on the door.

“Coming!” He called, then cursed under his breath. His choices included an old Velaris High tee shirt and a long-sleeved, plain black tee.

He chose the black one, barely getting it over his head before the door pushed open.

Nesta stood in the threshold, a red dress tightly fitted against her body, long-sleeved, reaching her mid-thigh. With her heels, she was nearly as tall as he was. Her hair was down in long, loose curls.

He raised a brow at her, pulling his shirt down to the hem of his jeans. “Still impatient, I see.”

She shrugged. “Patient people never get shit done.”

Cassian huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I guess not.”

After grabbing his wallet and slipping on his boots, they were out the door of Azriel’s apartment and hitting the streets of Velaris.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

Cassian chuckled. “You picked me up, remember? Haven’t you planned our lovely evening?”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “Expected me to do all the work, did you?”

His grin widened as he offered her his arm. “Don’t worry. I’ve got big plans.”

She slipped her arm through his with an eye roll. “Mother help us.”

He led her down the Sidra, the sinking sun causing the clear blue water to sparkle. There was a small dancefloor set up just outside of the artists’ corner, surrounded by old wooden tables and local vendors. String lights were hung above the dance floor as they all awaited the appearance of the captivating starlight.

“Care to give dancing another chance?” He asked, leading her onto the floor.

The music was soft, coming for a string quartet sitting off to the side. The last time they had danced, the evening had taken a turn for the worse.

But Cassian felt perfectly comfortable as he took Nesta in his arms and swayed back and forth to the sweet sound of the violin.

They danced for hours. Cassian had completely forgotten about his hunger as they talked and laughed. He hadn’t laughed so much in a long time.

This was his childhood best friend. The only person to understand him. Yes, it was different, but it didn’t all have to be different. They had almost begun something before he left a decade ago, they should have begun something. Then again, it had been ten years. Ten years was a long time. How much did he really know about Nesta archeron? The woman, not the girl he’d known so long ago.

“You look like your deep in thought,” Nesta said, voice quiet, as they swayed back and forth.

“I’m not the same person I was, Nesta,” he said. He tried not to sound bitter, tried not to sound hurt, but failed.

The rare smile she had began to fade. “I know that. Neither am I.”

“Exactly,” he said, his hand tightening around hers. “What do we really know about each other? After all this time?”

She shook her head. “Isn’t that what we’re doing here? Finding out?”

Cassian let out a breath.

“I’m not stupid, Cassian,” she began, coming to a halt and stepping back. “I know full well that we’re not the same kids we were at eighteen.”

Cassian didn’t know what to say. He had a million thoughts running through his mind that he couldn’t quite sort. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were stupid.”

She shook her head. “Maybe this is a mistake. Yeah? Maybe you’re not ready for this. Maybe you need time-“

“Don’t fucking tell me what I need,” Cassian spat.

Nesta’s lips snapped shut into a straight line. Without another word, she turned on her heels and walked away.

Every other couple on the dance floor was left looking awkwardly at Cassian.

After a long string of quiet curses, Cassian followed.

Nesta had grabbed her clutch and sweater and began to walk back toward Azriel’s apartment, where her car was parked.

“Nesta!” Cassian called after her.

She didn’t stop.

Cassian shoved his hands in his pockets as he followed her down the boardwalk of the Sidra.

“NES, stop!” He called.

She didn’t.

As onlookers followed his movements, Cassian ran. Once he caught up with her, he grabbed her hand.

She halted, although she wasn’t too pleased about it. “What.”

“I’m sorry.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah? About what?”

Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I…”

Nothing else came out and Nesta let out a long, slow breath. “I know, you’ve been through a lot. I get it.”

“But you don’t get it,” Cassian said. “And I don’t expect you to. You will never get it, none of you will. Only I understand. Me, alone. And that fucking sucks. I hate it, Nesta. I hate the memories I have, hate the feelings that overcome me out of nowhere. I hate that I wake up in a pool of my own sweat every night and can’t hear loud noises without panicking. I hate that the sight of fire, or blood, has me feeling sick to my stomach. I hate that I can’t take you on a proper date without ruining it. Okay? I hate it, and you deserve better. At least...at least let me walk you back to Az’s.”

She shook her head. “Cass-“

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he said, unable to control the words flowing out of his mouth. “But I don’t need time, Nes. Time...I’m terrified of time. Terrified of my thoughts, terrified of tomorrow, okay? I’m scared shitless. I-“

“Okay,” Nesta breathed, her palm resting against his stubbled cheek as the words flowed out of him without a pause.

“I’m scared,” he whispered, and there was no shame in it. Terror lit his hazel eyes and it was then that Nesta realized just how little she did understand of this new Cassian, this 28-year-old man that she had seen so little of in the past decade. He was right. They were strangers, strangers resting on the foundation of the kids they used to be.

“It’s okay,” she said, promised. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I promise.”

He nodded, although he didn’t truly believe her.

He wouldn’t blame her if she left, if he scared her away. He was fighting an army of demons within himself, and that was enough to terrify anyone.

Himself included.

But she simply took his hand and led him slowly down the boardwalk, back to Azriel's apartment.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised.

Cassian wasn’t sure what he and Nesta were, or what they were going to be. But, he had a feeling at that moment that whatever they were, it was good.

In that moment, he felt a rare sense of peace sweep over him.

He held her hand a little tighter.

#cassian #nesta #nessian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #fanfic #fanfiction #tacmc ashes #tara writes

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