#farah hauville x detective

[avadmortain]

F + their constant reassurance is THE sweetest thing gosh they are so precious 🥹🥹🥹

[grapecaseschoices]

“I know someone who kisses the way / a flower opens,” — Mary Oliver, from I Know Someone

i. wrecking ball - midnight string quartert | ii. breathless - the corrs | iii. annie's song - john denver | iv. this must be the place - dad sports | v. mr. sandman - symyl | vi. you are gold - the national parks | vii. walking up slow - gabrielle aplin | viii. shut up and dance - walk the moon | ix the promise - samia, jelani aryeh | x. i'm so in love with you - jill andrews, seth avett | xi. i melt with you - modern english | xii. dandelions (slow + reverb) - ruth b., slater | xiii. for all you give - the paper kites, lucy rose | xiiii. harbor - vienna teng | xv. enchanted (the wedding violin version) - ana done

for @happyhauvillebday; wildcard: love - a spotify playlist about being loved by (and loving!) Farah Hauville & Felix Hauville.

[dragonknightofsummerset]

Farah 🥹

[robinsfilm]

WE ARE STARS (NEVER COMING BACK AGAIN) | 0.8k

PAIRING: a. du mortain ✗ gn!reader (gn!detective) ;

SYNOPSIS: adam du mortain and the terrifying nature of longing or author has only played the a du mortain route and now is suffering the consequences ;

WARNINGS: mild gore imagery and religious symbolisms, description of self sabotage and self hatred, self deprecating language;

NOTES: trying something new and dipping my toes in a different fandom. writing this was very fun, despite the angsty feel of it. i tried to write this in novlr, it was okay. cross posted on my AO3.

── .✦ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION.

THE FOREST OUTSIDE OF THE STAINED WINDOW RESTS QUIETLY TONIGHT. Not a single sound rings out in the warehouse. Adam’s eyes stay locked onto the glass. The different colors bleed into each other as his gaze bores into them, a quiet sort of desperation clinging to every edge of the fractured light.

Despite the silence, his mind cannot find rest. Thoughts creep in, insidious, filling every corner of his mind. Thoughts of you. How can one person invade another so completely? You’ve bewitched him, there’s no other explanation. Your infuriating smile, your ridiculous jokes—

We can burn forever (never coming back again, never coming back again)

Before we're gone (never coming back again, never coming back again)

His throat tightens as warmth invades him, uninvited. He hates that he seeks out your voice, your gaze. And yet, he craves it. Craves the way your eyes find his in a crowd, as if you see him, really see him.

“Maybe it’ll grow on you.”

“Like a tumor, you mean?”

He can still hear your voice from that day at the diner, your laughter so close to his. The sun was drenching you in gold, framing you in a halo of light. He can’t tell if it was the sun warming his skin or if it was you.

And in that light, you were something otherworldly, untouchable. A saint, and he—what was he? A sinner. A broken thing gazing up at something far too good for him. You, a creature of unwavering hope, of impossible strength. His chest aches because he can’t reach for you. You pull him closer, but he resists. He can’t—won’t—bring the darkness he carries into your light. He’s terrified that if he does, your brightness will expose everything. It’ll show him for what he truly is—leave him bare, stripped of his defenses.

“This shouldn’t be your life. You deserve…” He swallows, the words catching in his throat. “You deserve more.”

You deserve more than him.

The memory of your skin, bruised and broken, haunts him. The cuts on your arms that he yearns to heal with his hands, with his lips. There’s something delicate in it—a sweetness so fierce it threatens to consume him whole. The feeling is like a vice around his throat, choking him with need. He wants to be closer, to merge with you, because some part of him knows—you would fit perfectly. But it’s a violent kind of love, tangled in pain. Loving you is a barbed wire wrapped tight around his neck; it’s the only thing that keeps him breathing, but it’s also what strangles him. He wishes he could unravel himself in front of you, strip away his defenses, stand naked before your candlelight and not even flinch.

I remember you

You look like forever

But he can’t. He can’t let you see him for what he is. He can’t love you the way he wants to, the way you deserve. His love feels like a curse, like a blade pressed to your skin. It’s poison, something that’ll rot you from the inside out. How can he let you carry that?

You make it impossible for him to turn away, though. You beg him—without words, without sound—just with the way you look at him. He knows you’re asking for something he can’t give. You want to believe this is right. You want him to tell you it’s okay to love him back. But how can he promise that when he’s certain he’ll ruin you? How can he believe that your love will survive after you see what he truly is?

“I don’t think you’re a monster, Adam.”

“Maybe you should.”

Run so fast

Run through the weather

He knows he should hate the way you look at him. The way your face lights up when you see him. It makes him feel—just for a moment—like he’s something worth looking at, like he’s someone’s hope, someone’s person. It makes him feel wanted. But he doesn’t deserve that.

A hundred days, you're my man

Of bright light, away, away, hey!

His body betrays him. He wants to run to you, to close the distance between you both, because you—you are his hope. You’re his home, the altar he kneels at. You make him want things he’s long denied himself. You make him believe it’s possible to crave something good, something pure. He can feel his walls collapsing, his defenses crumbling to dust as he reaches for you. You promise you won’t burn him, but can he trust it? Can he trust you with what’s left of him?

I want a hundred days

Of bright light, hey, hey, away!

His eyes remain locked on your figure through the stained glass. The sunlight pours over you like it did that day, and it feels almost as if he could touch it, touch you. His fingers graze the glass, the warmth bleeding through. So close, but never close enough. He presses harder, desperate to feel you, to reach you.

Away, away, hey!

Away, away, hey!

The sun’s warmth is on his fingertips, but he knows it’ll never be enough.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[sunshineandviolets]

Into the Unknown.

Happy (late) holidays to @yakov-vasilyev, I was your secret santa <3. Much enjoyed learning all about Devon, esp her relationship with Farah and Bobby! Hope I did your girl justice and this new year has been treating you well!! 🥰🤗💕 Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Characters: Devon Kang x Farah Hauville (& Bobby Marks) @wayhavensecretsanta

The chill of the winter evening would be enough to make time slow down. From the small prickly hedgehogs curled up asleep within a pile of leaves till the warmth of spring was ready to greet them again, to the silent awes and faint twinkle in a young child’s eye as they witnessed their first snowflake. Jack frost nipped at their nose and in return heard the softest giggle as the confusion shifted to intrigue then finally pure wonder. 

It was just past 5pm and the sun had already started to set, however the crowds of townspeople on the street still remained as lively as before.- regardless of the loud honks from a vehicle that was on the verge of collapse. The night sky was lit up from the endless colourful string lights that decorated the streets. No order, just chaos spurred all over the surrounded homes. 

Devon squinted as she glanced up towards the car’s rear view mirror and grumbled once noticed the increased number of civilians that kept ‘mistaken’ the main road for a damn walkway. Her dark eyes ached with the continuous flash of lights directed towards her. The shine highlighted noticeable dark eye bags that had been one of the few consistent variables in her life thus far.  A child or even an naive adult would describe the first snowfall to commence the winter season as ‘magical’ but for someone whose car’s heating would not turn on - despite the amount of times she had punched the button to no reward - Devon was not feeling to share those same reactions as she pulled her coat furthered into herself.

 “Only a few more blocks to go”, she thought as she gripped the steering wheel tight and clenched her teeth to forcibly stop the chatter. A few more blocks till she would arrive back to a place that was once familiar and now is but a stranger. 

Devon never wanted to become an officer in the first place, that was a position forced upon her as punishment for acts of delinquency. Devon Kang - the woman who had a promising future laid out in front of her when she was growing up. She was meant to gain a successful career as a lawyer, being on top - exceeding far from other’s expectations of her. That was until he came into her life. Took her trust, her heart and had let her lay her armour down, only from him stabbed her from behind. The single revelation of the betrayal from someone she once could call hers, led to her eventual down spiral. A fallen angel , knocked off her pedestal and into a string of bad choices and decisions. Her downfall was his fault. She let him in, to drop her guard and only for him to - urgh. It was his fault.

“ So why can’t I - ? ”

Devon let out a low grunt at the nuisance of the thought of those strikingly blue eyes flashed before her, but it was another that they changed out for. Eyes as bright as the sun that rose up from the darkness, like an unexpected gift from under the tree - the reason why Devon cannot fully regret becoming the detective… if it had meant she got to meet the terrifying surprise that tipped her world upside down.

Thoughts of the sunshine vampire whirled into her mind. A bitter laugh left her as she reminiscenced their first kiss all those months ago. Strange yet needed, as through it’s what she had been missing despite never thinking to look. The vulnerable expression of Farah as she asked her for the kiss - did Farah expect her to say no? Should she have? Any doubt that remained was erased once Devon’s mind shifted to the taste of Farah’s candy scented lip gloss. It happened in almost an instant, yet remained gentle and soft like a touch of a sunny clear day.  Felt the sweetness of newly bloomed roses. After they both moved apart, that blissful kiss still lingered on her lips. The deeper she delved in thought about her new girlfriend, the increase of a chill crept along her back. This is new territory for her and one that Devon has yet to believe or understand that she even deserved. 

A few moments passed and Devon eventually arrived at the station. It was once a home away from home, but ever since her forced promotion at the agency she had found herself hesitant by the foot of the stone steps. She watched as the light shined brightly through the windows from the cold shadows. She never understood how her old co-workers could just easily stroll in a place and make conversation without a stumble. All it had taken was a single look from Devon and the others would avoid and cower like she had the plague. She certainly never smelt bad - always remained rather pristine and put together with style, she thought whilst she smoothed down her pressed shirt. 

A ping from her phone broke her chain of thought. Devon does not save people's numbers usually. A small contact list, less names to remember - only those that she actually cares about. 

Tina Poname, 5:12pm. Seen. 

“Dev! You coming to pick your things up or what?”

Tina Poname, 5:13pm. Seen.

“Don’t make me throw your shit in the trash - I will do it 😤”

Devon rolled her eyes, typed out a quick response then shoved the phone back into her coat pocket. Tina’s threats are not some to dismiss. 

Devon Kang, 5:13pm. Sent.

“Try it and I will break your plant.” 

She sighed whilst taking the steps back into a place that felt more as a distant memory. Devon brushed past individuals that made their way out of the building, ignorant of the pleasantries that were thrown her way. 

***

In and out. 

That was all it was supposed to be.

Get in, grab her stuff then leave. In and out. As easy as that. So, why was she stood in front of a bare naked pine tree with a box of cheap plastic ornaments in her hands. Devon wrinkled her nose when she remembered Tina’s big and bold pleading eyes. Devon was about to shrug her request off before Tina pulled out her trap card. 

“Well this could be a rather difficult task, if you think you won’t be able to handle it then I suppose I could have another - ”

Devon sneered at her past self’s foolishness to fall for such a low blow trick that had landed her to decorate a tree over twice her size. Devon dealt with worse, she knew she didn't need help to assist with such a mindless task. Anyone around her knew better to ask or dealt with the agent’s stone cold glare that could rival Adams. 

Like a blur, time sped up whilst Devon concentrated with the decorations. Volunteers, co workers, guests flew around and past her in all directions - but her focus remained on the tree. No time for pointless greetings or goodbyes, she had a system and it would be followed.

The moment she was unable to find the star topper, Devon decided it was a decent time for a break. That and her stomach betrayed her. She headed for the vending machine, typed out the number, tapped her card and waited for her chips.

And waited.  

… Still waited. 

Devon inched closer with anticipation whilst the bag started to tilt forward and … nothing. It just remained still, mocked her from behind the glass. She kicked at the machine, once or perhaps multiple times, but the chips still refused to budge. How was it that she could shove over an old powerful supernatural, but it was a single bag of chips that held its own against her? At least most people had already left for the day to not see a grown woman’s beef with a mechanical box.

“Oh angel, take it easy on the machine. You are going to leave a dent.” 

Devon groaned and the hairs on the back of her neck stiffened up at that dreadful name. Not even needed to glance away from her new inanimate enemy, she already knew exactly who arrived. She let out another low grunt as she gave the machine one last hard kick, yet the chips remained attached on the rack. 

“Need some assistance there, before you break company property - oh! I meant your ex - company’s property.” Devon made the fatal mistake and shifted her gaze to glance up at the taller man with his smug grin that pierced a burnt feeling in her chest. Bobby Marks leaned against the vending machine with a journalist pass displayed around his neck.

“Ah great. Just when my headache was thought to have gone” She rolled her eyes and spoke in a neutral tone, “the detective is not present, you have no business here.” “Who said I was here for business and not pleasure?” He winked and Devon just barely managed to hold in another groan. He already used that line once before in the past.

She was tired, she had a very brief moment of weakness and it was late - way too late. Devon was usually quite pragmatic, but in that moment, her mind betrayed her when she held the door open for him. Without a second to process, she felt a rough wet collision between their lips. An overwhelming scent of his cologne scraped against her nose. The kiss itself is as she expected. A fight for control. Urgency or desperation? Doesn’t matter. It was over as quick as it had started. After the sounds of betrayal, almost used once again for nothing more than a scoop - she will not allow herself to fall for that same mistake again. 

“But really what a surprise to find you here after your sudden promotion, must be a christmas miracle - “ “It’s the fourth of December.”

Bobby continued as though she never interrupted, “and here I worried that agency of yours had kept you locked up and you’d tragically never see my handsome face again.” Devon noted the venom laced on his tongue at the slight mention of the agency. She managed to array Bobby’s suspicions of her new workplace and unordinary colleagues for the past couple of months, but how long will that secret last? Knowing Bobby for as long as she does, he won’t stop till he figured out the truth. 

Devon rolled her eyes again at his comment, but stopped at the sound of a bag drop. Her eyes darted towards the row ‘035’ and that very same chip bag had indeed fallen onto the tray. When her gaze moved towards the control panel, her surprise quickly shifted to a glare towards her conversation partner who was in the process of putting away his card.

“I did not need your help.” Bobby scoffed lightly, “Bold of you to assume these were for you.” He reached down faster enough to beat her for the winning prize. He opened her bag. He took out her chips. With the usual smirk drawn on his face, crunched down on each chip. One by one. However, it did not last as that nauseating smirk faded into a knowing grimace.

Bobby let out a loud cough and tossed the bag onto an empty desk, “Kale? Who on earth would choose to eat kale flavoured chips?” Devon scoffs with a small quirk of a smile “it’s called being healthy, why don’t you try it some time?” Bobby rubbed a hand on the corners of his mouth, “it’s called being pretentious, Kang.”

“Takes one to know one, Marks.”  

Bobby took a few steps closer towards Devon, leaned down to match her height “we always had much in common, hadn’t we? Shame truly we don’t spend nearly enough time together anymore to explore - “

Devon was about to snap back at him, if it wasn’t for her surprise wrapped up in all colours of the rainbow. 

“Dev!! Honey! I saw your car outside, are you in here?”

Farah’s booming voice echoed through the office, a pleasant chime to the ears. She had a peppy spring to her steps, with her poofy skirt bouncing along with her and colourful rainbow stockings proudly on display. She swung around a small woven tote bag, whilst she skipped with a beaming smile towards Devon. 

“You would not believe what I managed to score, and for free as well!” Farah’s excitement could radiate an entire room with how much twinkle would shine from her amber eyes. 

Bobby let out a loud cough and Farah’s bounce halted and finally realised his existence in the scene. He was not amused, “We were having a conversation here.” Farah threw him a disinterested gaze up and down with a shrug “emphasis on ‘were’. You are no longer needed - not when the real gift has arrived!” She gives a small twirl of the skirt and sent a wink at Devon. Devon snorted at the man’s insulted face. She hesitated at first but reached over for Farah’s hand and gave it a small squeeze. 

Bobby glanced between both women then at their joined hands, gave a slight roll of the eyes before he plastered a tight smile. “Oh! It seems I am getting a call,”  He whipped out his phone and very obviously typed out a number. He kept his gaze locked onto Devon as he spoke, “Hello there Harriet, did you miss me?” Devon just scoffed at his antics. 

Farah stuck her tongue out at the man when he headed out of the station, then shook her head and sighed, “What a total weirdo. Good thing you totally upgraded from that, right honey?” She glanced towards her with an anxious smile. Farah has always been rather open, going through life, her heart on her sleeve, even a hint of insecurity can easily slip past that smiley façade. However, without the necessity of words, Devon lifted their joined hands to press a faint kiss on her knuckles and those once anxious thoughts simply faded away. 

Farah’s cheeks darkened and sputtered out a soft laugh “oh gosh - wow. Gotta say babes, I'm never truly tired of finding these surprises of yours hidden within.” Devon showed a small inch of a smile and Farah’s grin widened, then blinked for a second “Wait, what was I going to say again?” Devon glanced at the tote bag and raised a single brow, Farah clapped her hands “Oh right! Check it.” She opened the bag and revealed a small box of freshly baked mince pies. “Some old human was selling a bunch on the street and she ended up giving me a box with no charge! Must have been hypnotised by my adorable face, haha!” Devon purses her lips in slight confusion, “firstly I am not going to argue about ‘adorableness’ of your face as that’s obviously true to a fact,” Farah blew her a kiss. “But you are a vampire, aren’t you not? You don’t need to eat actual foods.” Farah flapped her hand, “Need? No. But I heard these small pie things are a big deal this time of the year, so I was curious what all the hype was about.” Farah shuffled near, their hands still joined, the sudden closeness caused a warmth to bloom on Devon’s cheeks. “And I thought you might appreciate the snack.”

Devon hadn’t told anyone she was heading to the station. Hadn’t told anyone if she was eating out or staying in. But despite not knowing if they were going to meet, Farah still thought of her. She used her free hand to gently cup her girlfriend’s cheek. Examined her for any possible ulterior motives, tricks or tomfoolery - but what she deduced was nothing but the earnest truth, as she has always been.

“You are forever on my mind, honey. I hope you know that. If not, I do not mind getting to remind you every second of every day.” Left speechless, Devon responded with a slow nod. She leaned up slightly for a gentle kiss with a short breath of relief that escaped her lips. Farah’s leg propped up with her arms around Devon’s waist, kept her close and near. A picturesque portrait with the newly decorated tree behind the blossoming couple and seemingly Devon finally found the star. 

All she wishes for this Christmas season is not to lose her shooting star anytime soon. 

The End.

[songofsoma]

a wish to be loved

CONTAINS BOOK 3 SPOILERS set right after the ava kiss scene, at least cece has great friends

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles words: 1,525 rating: general

read it on ao3

When the door shut behind Ava that sick yet familiar feeling of loneliness began to fill the space. It wound through her like tendrils, wrapping around her throat until she felt like she couldn’t breathe and plugging her ears until the rang. All she could feel was the rawness of her lips from being kissed, the heat on her thighs where Ava’s hands had lifted her, and the ache settling deep in her chest.

Cecilia knew what loneliness was more than most. 

It was like a second home.

Every single person in her life who she had truly loved left her at some point.

It happened when she was seven and her dad died. Her favorite person in the entire world cruelly ripped away.

Then every time her mother chose work over her, leaving her with a random babysitter until Cecilia was deemed old enough to care for herself. After that, it was just Cecilia coming home from school to an empty house to cook herself dinner and put herself to bed hoping she might get a chance to see her mom in the morning, even if in passing. 

There was no more childhood after Rook died.

Her poor heart was broken in so many ways, but this time might just be the one to leave it completely shattered when the woman she loved left her.

The dried tears from before were quickly replaced with fresh ones. Since the start of the kidnappings, it was like every time she wasn’t good enough was a new crack in her sanity. She was on the brink of disaster and was only held together by some shitty scotch tape at best.

Cecilia did her best to hide it, putting on a smile and making sure those around her were alright. If she focused on them it would allow her to not think about herself. She knew others could tell from the way Farah stared at her sometimes and even Nat when she thought Cecilia wasn’t looking. No one said anything outright.

She turned and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and suddenly it was like she was a child again. Dad dead. Mom busy working. Left to take care of herself even when she was raw and vulnerable. 

Her eyes slid away from her reflection, unable to handle the memories any longer, and landed on the soft shape of the duck stuffy sitting on top of her dresser. It felt like a lifetime ago since the carnival and her and Ava’s “fake” date. Cecilia remembered her excitement when Ava handed the prize to her, claiming she had no use for it. 

Cecilia loved that fucking duck. She had been so relieved that it hadn’t been ruined in her apartment accident. 

She stood before it now, staring into its little glass eyes and it all suddenly became too much. 

The first sob shook her and the ones following brought her to her knees as she cried.

She cried for her lost childhood. She cried because she was so damn lonely. And mostly, she cried because she wished someone would love her in the way she loved them. 

*

At some point, Cecilia had made it to bed.

She lay on her side in the quiet darkness, stuffed duck nestled in her arms. 

A hesitant knock sounded on the door. It opened before she could respond.

“Cece?” Farah called quietly into the room. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

Luckily the vampire didn’t need light to navigate the dark bedroom and crawled onto the bed quickly. “I’ll even let you be the little spoon,” Farah teased, slotting herself behind Cecilia beneath the covers. 

Cecilia was grateful for her best friend’s comfort. A hand curled around Farah’s soft forearm as a few coils of hair tickled her cheek. The feeling of familiarity was a blessing as the smell of her friend’s soap and the slightest hint of cinnamon sliced through the dreaded loneliness. 

“I would’ve come sooner but thought you might need some time,” she murmured.

She nodded. “Thank you,” Cecilia rasped, her voice hoarse from crying.

Farah was silent for a few seconds before saying, “We could always break into Nat’s special room and find her stash of old alcohol. Not like she’s going to use it. Besides, I think she’d let you do just about anything right now.”

That made Cecilia snort. “As tempting as that sounds, my head already hurts enough.”

She felt Farah shrug the shoulder not pressed against the mattress. “Fair. Offer still stands.”

It made Cecilia finally produce a small smile.

They lay there without saying much for a while. Cecilia wasn’t up for talking and Farah clearly understood. With someone else with her, she was finally feeling the exhaustion of her emotions surging forward until her eyelids were becoming heavier by the second. Farah had come dressed in her pajamas, having already intended to stay with her best friend as long as she was needed.

“Hey, Farah,” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I love you. You really are my best friend.”

Farah’s arm squeezed her tightly. “You’re my best friend too. I love you so much that I considered kicking Ava’s arms out from under her earlier so she would faceplant into the ground.”

Cecilia smiled, although she wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about. Still, she appreciated the sentiment.

*

She and Farah parted ways the next morning. Morgan had come and banged on Cecilia’s door trying to find Farah so they could go on their patrol. To say Farah was uncharacteristically irritated with Morgan after was an understatement.

Cecilia hugged her goodbye, smiling at the promise they would watch stupid movies later together when she returned.

Knowing it would be stupid of her to hole up in her room, Cecilia made the brave decision of venturing out into the kitchen. She pushed the thought of seeing Ava to the back of her mind while trying to ignore the way her stomach turned at the idea.

Thankfully, there was only Nat seated at the table, squinting at a crossword puzzle with her lips pursed. A pencil twirled absent-mindedly in her fingers.

“What’s the question?”

Nat looked up seeming a bit surprised by Cecilia’s presence. She recovered quickly though, looking back down to her paper. “Who don’t you put in a corner?”

Cecilia crossed the room to stand behind her and looked over her shoulder. “Baby.”

The woman twisted in her seat, a look of confusion pulled at her features. “Why on earth would you put a baby in a corner?”

She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “No, the character’s name is Baby. It’s from the movie Dirty Dancing.” Cecilia took a seat in the chair next to Nat. “Why did you choose a pop culture crossword anyway?”

“Farah printed it out for me. She said it would keep me busy.” Nat paused, long fingers drumming on the table in thought. “I suppose she was right on the keeping me busy part because I have no idea what half of these words mean strung together like this.”

Cecilia smiled—until Nat truly looked at her in her Nat way that openly read I know you aren’t okay. Then her lips curled into a frown. 

“Are you doing alright?” she asked, reaching over to place a hand on top of Cecilia’s. 

She let out a long sigh. Her head still hurt from crying last night and she was sure her eyes were puffy so she looked a wreck. “I guess.”

Nat squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to be. It’s completely understandable.”

“I’m sure you already know what happened then,” Cecilia mumbled, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. Something about their friendly warmth made her feel unworthy. 

“Secrets don’t seem to last long around here,” she said, then followed by, “Farah told me after she saw Ava in the hall.”

Cecilia stared at the pattern in the wooden grains of the tabletop. The muscles in her jaw were already beginning to ache from the way she clenched it. “It just…” she trailed off at first, finger tracing the space where her gaze went. “It just hurts.”

“What does?”

Swallowing hard, Cecilia finally met Nat’s concerned look. “Loving someone who doesn’t love you back. No, let me rephrase. Loving someone who feels the same but won’t let herself and breaks my heart over and over again in the process.”

Nat frowned but nodded in understanding. 

She felt tears flooding her eyes once more. “I’m not strong anymore, Nat,” Cecilia whispered. “I feel like I’m falling apart. I don’t know how much more I can take.” 

By the end, her voice was wobbling and Nat moved from her chair to kneel in front of Cecilia, pulling her into a hug. Cecilia clung to her tightly, willing herself not to break into tears all over again.

“I wish there was something I could do,” Nat whispered.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cecilia caught movement. She turned her head just in time to see the figure of Ava slinking back into the hallway and the mournful look clouding her face. “Me too, Nat. Me too.”

[thewayhavenchronicle]

53, 54, and 57 for Nell and Farah please!

53. Would they ever go skinny dipping?

"Farah!"

Nell's harsh hiss is met with nothing more than a delighted cackle as another piece of clothing hits the ground. They can feel themself flushing, fixing their eyes firmly on one of the trees nearby instead of their soon-to-be very naked girlfriend.

"What?" she laughs, and the sound of soft footsteps approaching makes Nell's jaw clench. "No one's around. Live a little."

Farah's hand tugs teasingly on the hem of Nell's sweater and they gasp, hands coming up to grab at the hem in panic -- which just makes her laugh again. They screw their eyes shut, shaking their head.

The sheer thought of someone walking up on them without any clothes on in the middle of the river is...

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

"Suit yourself."

They aren't entirely sure whether that means she's going to put her clothes back on or not -- but the sound of a loud splash proves them wrong.

They open their eyes curiously, finding her wading into the water with a sigh. She casts a teasing glance back over her shoulder, golden eyes catching the moonlight in a way that could only ever be described as ethereal. Lifting her shoulder a little, she sinks deeper into the water with another sigh.

"The water's warm from the sun still. You should come in."

They stand there for a moment, wringing their hands. They know they're not the most exciting person in the world, and they always worry that Farah's going to get bored with them. Maybe...

Their fingers shake a little as they pull their shirt over their head -- the air is cool against their skin, sending goosebumps facing over their skin, but any chill is quickly chased away as Farah whoops with excitement. They laugh a little, delicately setting their shirt on the ground and reaching for their skirt next.

They chicken out of pulling everything off, content that their bra and underwear is already terrifying enough, but Farah seems excited that they're even willing to do that as they wade into the water after her.

She's right that the water is warm, though it's nothing compared to the heat of the way Farah seems to be drinking in the sight of all their newly revealed skin. She sinks deeper into the water, grinning wickedly as she swims backward a little -- and then she lifts her hand, crooking her finger to beckon them closer.

They feel very much like they're under her spell as they follow her deeper into the water. When they are both comfortably in the water deep enough that it reaches their shoulders, she slips her arms around their shoulders, pressing up against them and grinning at the way their breath hitches.

"...alright?" she asks, tilting her head.

Nell laughs a little, wrapping their arms around her waist and nodding. "I... yeah. Surprisingly."

She snorts. "Good."

And then she kisses them, and the combination of her lips and the slickness of their skin brushing against each other under the water makes them feel hot all over.

Maybe skinny dipping isn't as scary as it seemed like.

54. Who’s more likely to carry the other to bed?

"...what are you doing?"

Farah pauses, one arm already under her girlfriend's knees, surprised to find them already looking up at her suspiciously. They'd fallen asleep on the couch about a half hour ago and Farah, being the loving girlfriend that she is, had thought it would be cute to carry them to bed.

The look they're giving her says otherwise.

"I'm... carrying you to bed?" she says, though it comes out as a question rather than a statement.

Nell snorts, but Farah doesn't move away. Their eyes shine with uncertainty as they say, "I don't... think that's a good idea."

"Why?"

"I -- Because I'm -- I mean, look at me."

Their face is red, heart beating erratically in their chest. She doesn't understand why they look so embarrassed, nor does she really understand what the problem is.

"I am looking at you?"

"Then you should know how big I am."

"I... guess?"

They blink. "I'm fat."

Farah frowns, tilting her head. "Still not getting the issue, Nellie."

"Wha-- I don't think you can lift me. No one has been able to lift me since I was a kid."

Farah blinks -- and then snorts with laughter, tightening her grip around them. They look very adorably flustered by that, and she almost feels bad, but she's already too enamored with the idea of being the first person to carry them like the royalty they are. Fixing them with a smirk, she tightens her grip a little more and stands easily, cackling when Nell yelps, arms clutching at her shoulders like they think she's going to drop them.

"Babe," she laughs, leaning in and burying her face in their neck as she giggles. "Babe."

"...shut up."

Farah just laughs more as she turns and starts to make her way to their bedroom.

"Forgot about the super strength?"

"...yeah."

"You're so cute."

"I hate you."

Farah laughs, and they laugh with her. It's very cute, and it's even more cute the way they yell a little when she drops them on the mattress unceremoniously. They are only just settling on the bed when she hops up into the air and flops onto the bed beside them, making them both bounce as the room fills with laughter.

She loves them. So, so much.

57. Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart?

"Farah."

"Yes, babe?"

"What have you put in my cart?"

Nell had only been turned away considering a new appliance for their kitchen for a few minutes. They hadn't even pulled away from the cart, really, but...

"Please, Nell?"

A pile of DVDs from the dollar bin is the least of the things that Farah had somehow snuck into the cart. There are also game consoles, complete with a couple of video games, as well as several sets of new pajamas. Nell blinks, and then looks up at their girlfriend who is making a very convincing set of puppy-dog eyes at them.

They sigh.

"Fine," they say, placing the appliance they wanted on top of everything else. "I guess at least you aren't trying to feed me different foods out of curiosity."

"Actually..."

"What now?"

She grins sweetly. "Last time you'd had that wine you like, you smelled so good."

Oh.

"Can vampires taste it when people have been on a certain diet or if they're on drugs or something?"

That seems to take Farah by surprise, and she straightens up a little. Tilting her head, she asks, "Are you... asking me what your blood would taste like?"

They shrug. "I mean, who isn't a little curious? And it's not like I have that magic blood that Saoirse and Nori have. What's the danger, really?"

Farah's jaw drops. "I... um, yeah. You can, kinda."

"...do you want to taste mine, later?"

Farah spends the rest of the shopping trip thoroughly distracted, to the point that she wonders if they'd meant to do that. It doesn't last all that long, though...

Her girlfriend's blood is sweet, just as she'd expected.

[periofthesea]

I don't talk enough about how much I adore Farah

not my longest fic ever but... I still think it's sweet

[agentnatesewell]

@happyhauvillebday THE regency au!!

Regency era style Farah and detective Deimos for @iristhemessenger  ♡

[avadmortain]

okay but what if F & the detective got matching paper airplane necklaces <3 and what if those necklaces also had the other’s first initial on them <3

[daisymakesstuff]

Infiltrated

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Pairing: Farah Hauville x F!Detective (Pax Izaz)

Rating: T

Description: What is a scientist-turned-detective to do when the mysterious government agents sent to "help" her on a murder case are very clearly the primary suspects?

Written in present tense, 3rd person POV. Selected segments of Book 1 rewritten and presented in chronological order.

The first 8 chapters are currently up for this, covering portions of chapters 3-10 in Book 1 and is at 24,922 words right now.

Read on AO3

[lilacyams]

Force of Nature

Wayhaven Week 2020, Day 4 - Tranquil / Thrill 

@otomefandomevents

Pairings: F!Detective/Ava Du Mortain;  F!Detective/Nat Sewell; F!Detective/Morgan; F!Detective/Farah Hauville.

Summary: Lovemaking is an art, and everyone does it their own way. // Featuring Unit Bravo.

Word count: 4,484 / 4 chapters

Rating: M (adult content, sexual themes)

AO3 link: click here

The Mountain

With Ava it’s unforgettable, it overcomes rationality.

 The two of you knock over and break almost everything on your way to the bed; neither could give a damn about it. Nothing is real, outside of your bubble. All that isn’t her, your brain can’t register. It’s as if you’re blind and deaf, and the heat of her mouth working against yours is all your overwhelmed senses can pick up.

It’s hot and moist, firm and demanding, full of hunger and unspoken words.

Her arms envelop you in their warm safety; her tongue pushes against yours with urge. She’s desperate for your touch just as you are for hers, palms running over every inch of skin to cup, grab, feel.

The struggle to your bedroom eventually comes to an end when you reach the destination and fall backwards, landing on the mattress with her body on top of yours. Ava balances herself on both arms, hands planted on each side of your head.

She says nothing, just stops and stares down at you, and her clear eyes are like mirrors. You can see your own reflection through the ink of her widened pupils, burning with lust and longing. You’ve waited for it, yearned for it so much it hurts. And now you belong to each other.

Once she dips in for another kiss, your mind short-circuits. Whilst the intensity of your kisses threatens to melt down the room and swallow you whole, your eyes go half lidded every time you come back for air, as if to check whether this moment could be nothing more than a product of your imagination.

The intimate tangle of arms and legs breaks off, but not for long: you strip each other bare, tugging and pulling hastily until you get rid of any garment, and return to the awaited ministrations.

Then it all gets faster.

Ava straddles your hips, pinning you down. She teases you with a stern look, while her fingers work with the hair tie trapping her golden locks into the usual knot; her glacial stare is rather convincing – not to mention arousing – but the vampire can’t hide the raw emotion oozing from the way her fingers shake helplessly, as though it’s her first time.

At last she gives up and opts to rip the hair tie off instead. Luscious waves pour onto her shoulders, snapping your attention away from her piercing eyes to bask in the view of her bare figure. It’s truly a breathtaking picture. Her body is perfectly sculpted with lean muscles, solid and tight with the exception of the tender swell of breasts that you eagerly cup with your hands.

When she finally bends down, you can feel some of her blonde strands tickling your skin, as well as her warm breath washing over your face. Her lips make contact with the sensitive area behind your ear, sending a rush of blood through your head. A familiar, liquid sensation pools in your womb as she slowly makes her way down, surveying every inch of you with lips and tongue until she comes to a stop in front of her goal. And just like the soldier she is, once she locks the target, she attacks.

She’s almost clumsy at first, due to the prolonged lack of practice, but she picks up her technique surprisingly fast. And once she does, you could swear you’d never known sex until that very moment.

The room spins around you at the way she laps and sucks and rubs, unrelentingly eager to please as if she waited her entire life for this moment, as if there’s something she’s making up for. Perhaps it could be the sin of the lost time, the lonely time, the time spent without you. Yet, as you arch into the pillows and vocalize your enjoyment with full lung power, there’s only one thing you know for certain: her atonement feels heavenly.

Ava’s grip on you is immovable, as though she’s afraid you’ll disappear into thin air if she ever lets go; and the feeling is mutual, though your touch is more tender. Your hands run through the softness of her hair over and over, caressing her, brushing the locks away from her face, guiding her to the perfect rhythm to make you lose your mind until you’re close to that ecstasy.

But you want to go to that place together, and the desire to touch her more intimately is burning you alive. After all, you’ve been wondering for long about how her beautiful face would look like, when lost in pleasure; and you won’t let her go until you’ll see it enough to have it imprinted in your memory.

“Kiss me.”

She doesn’t let you repeat it twice and crawls back up to meet your eye – and your mouth.

Once again, it’s all a tangle of limbs, tongues, souls.

You slide a hand down between her legs, and she breaks the kiss with a gasp. Her eyes look down at you half-lidded as you move your fingers in practiced motions. Her parted lips are as scarlet and plump as yours, and the soft moans that come out are one of the sweetest sounds your ears have ever caught.

You lean in to place a kiss on a bright red cheek, and the contact makes her snap into action.

Pale fingers trace an invisible line running down from your stomach, searching until they find your warmth just like you found hers, and quickly adjust to the same rhythm.

And this is how you get to know one another like you haven’t done before. As you feel each other’s skin, explore each other’s bodies, you slowly become one.

Ava cocks her head to one side and savors your skin once again, pressing her lips in a trail from your jaw to your ear, then slowly down your neck. Every fiery kiss lingers, its steam growing beneath like roots that lengthen and reach out to your core.

Her hand speeds up and you quicken your own pace to match hers, shortness of breath marking the near-end of this round. It becomes a challenge: which one can bring the other to climax first?

Competitive as you both are, you work hard to outdo one another – but to no avail.

In the end, you’re just as victorious as Ava.

She grips you hard, riding her peak at the same time as you approach your own.

“You’re mine,” she growls.

She’s extremely alluring in this disheveled state, you think. Blonde strands stick to her face, neck and shoulders; her skin shimmers as a faint beacon of light flickers over the beads of sweat.

Jolts of electricity blind your sight, and you cling on her for dear life as you come undone, your final wail buried into her shoulder.

“And I’m yours.”

She’s your rock, she’s your mountain.

The Forest

With Nat it’s passionate, slow. It gives you everything and does so gently. 

You walk back to her room after an afternoon spent doing research together, and you just know it’s going to happen. The air surrounding the two of you is charged with something different, something liquid and intoxicating; you can’t quite explain it, but it’s there, hanging between your bodies like an invisible thread.

Such realization fully kicks in the moment the door shuts behind you, when Nat doesn’t budge from her spot in the doorway and the sudden proximity makes your head spin. You glance up and see it in the tension burning in her eyes. It’s already begun.

She cups your cheek in a hand as the other moves up to lean against the wall behind you, leaving you deliciously trapped. Her eyes crinkle when she offers you a smile, regarding you like you’re the most precious thing in her world.

Because you are.

When she finally bends down, leaning in to fill the gap, you stand on your tiptoes to meet her halfway.

It's automatic, spontaneous, yet so perfect it feels like part of a design - who knows, perhaps it was really planned.

At first it's mild, almost chaste; your lips press together with nothing but tenderness inspiring the contact. Your fingers reach out for her cropped hair, sinking in its wavy texture. The scent of her shampoo overruns your senses with a familiar comfort; it smells like jasmine and pine trees and brings your mind back to simpler days, when you could spend the entire afternoon searching for pinecones in the woods.

Nat pulls back for a moment and her eyes scan your features in inspection, a sudden worry creasing her forehead.

"Is this all right with you?" She asks, voice hitching with concern.

A genuine smile lights up your face: that's what you love the most about her. She's a gentle soul, through and through.

It’s up to you to take the initiative this time, and your body moves on its own. One teasing fingertip traces over the tip of her nose, down to the defined Cupid’s bow of her lips, a touch as light as feathers. Nat smiles, content with just letting you explore her in freedom.

Then you grab her chin and pull her back in.

Your foreheads press together as you kiss, and you're not sure whether the pulse hammering against your chest belongs to you or her; it does not matter.

Driven by a new confidence, she wraps her arms around your thighs and picks you up, enveloping you in the safest place you know of as she carries you. The journey is brief and leads to the large bed in the middle of the room, soft with an array of fluffy pillows and duvets on it; yet, the moment she places you down on your back, she does so with the amount of care one would reserve to a delicate, expensive porcelain doll.

There’s no mistake in the way she regards you beneath thick lashes, eyes flashing with the simplest, most complicated feeling in existence.

“You are everything I’ve always wanted,” she murmurs, finally removing her jacket and bending a knee over the mattress. You balance yourself on your upper arms and stare at her with affection as she inches closer and holds your face once more, stroking your cheek with a thumb, “And much more.”

Your lips meet again, this time joyfully, fervently, as you tilt your head to deepen the contact. Your hands roam over her shoulders, tugging at the layers of clothing concealing her body from your eager gaze. But the vampire has other plans for this part. 

Nat insists on undressing you first, stopping after removing each garment to stare in awe at the newly exposed skin. Sitting under her quiet scrutiny, you feel a flush creeping across your cheeks.

“You are wonderful,” she whispers in marvel, and you flush all the way up to your ears. You’ve never had someone looking at you the way she does, and the intensity of her gaze is crushing you.

Once it’s your turn, desire has long consumed any ounce of patience you were reserving for this moment, and you peel off her clothes with haste. Nat helps you out, and you suspect she’s just as willing to speed up this part as you are.

Your eyes trail over her bare form, admiring each curve of her lean, yet athletic build. The last flashes of sunlight filter through the lightweight fabric of the curtains, dancing across her tawny skin in tantalizing motions.

Warm hands grab your shoulders gently, driving your attention away from your astonished inspection; and with a firm push, they make you fall back onto the bed.

Her body easily covers yours in its entirety, but it doesn’t feel threatening in the slightest. As you wrap your legs around her hips and your arms around her back, heat engulfs you whole. 

As you could easily predict, Nat is far from being inexperienced. You can tell by the way her dexterous hands seems to know all the right spots, long fingers making your toes curl in ecstasy. Or by the way her mouth works on you, pouring fuel on your fire instead of smothering it.

She goes on and on, without taking a break, until you’re left panting, utterly spent.  

Or at least this is what you make her think, before rolling her over and straddling her hips. Now it’s your turn to give back exactly all the pleasure you’ve been so kindly gifted.

Nat falls asleep with her head resting on your chest, her long legs intertwined with yours. You’ve never seen her sleep before. She looks so vulnerable right now, and the sight tugs at your feelings. Still basking in the afterglow, you take in every subtle detail of her sleeping face – from the slight flutter of her long lashes, down to the way her cheek presses onto your bosom.

You can’t help but smile and run a hand through her wavy strands, drawing in a breath. The scent of forest surrounds you once more, and you don’t mind getting used to it.

As your eyes trail over the room, they spot a familiar form you didn’t have the chance to notice earlier. It’s the stuffed rabbit you won at the carnival, peering at you from its cozy spot on a shelf.

A soft chuckle escapes you, and you stifle it before it can wake Nat up.

Happiness bubbles up within your whole being and you close your eyes, ready to follow your girlfriend in a blissful slumber.

The Storm

With Morgan it’s reckless, demanding. It drains your entire being and fills it with electricity.

You’re driving back to the warehouse on a cold Friday evening; the vampire sinking into the passenger seat next to you is busy fidgeting with her lighter. It’s a quiet journey, with only the car radio filling the silence as you navigate the road by the lakeside. The wind blows through the trees outside, and the graying sky announces an impending stormy night.

“Stop this tin can,” she says flatly, out of a sudden. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you.”

From her tone it’s impossible to predict what is afflicting her to the point of wishing to talk, but you do as she says and pull up to an empty, sheltered spot by the lake. The moment you turn to face her, you quickly realize her intentions as a long, playful smile tugs at her lips.

“What’s the matter?” you ask, choosing to play along as you move to turn the radio off.

Morgan cocks her head to one side and a shorter, dark strand falls onto her cheek as she studies your expression. “We haven’t gotten around to trying those back seats yet, have we?”

You bite your lip. There she goes, initiating foreplay with a simple sentence. “Not yet, no.”

“How about now?”

You look up at her darkened eyes and that’s all it takes, desire igniting within you at the sight. “Yes,” you agree in a single breath. A promise is a promise, right?

Then, just as a gust of wind puffs against the flank of your car, a sudden thought snaps your attention away from her stormy gaze, reminding you of the potentially compromising situation you’re facing. Even though you chose a concealed spot to park and there doesn’t seem to be another soul around, you’re still in a public area. Are you just going to do it there, in the back of your car?

You meet her eye again, and any hesitation dissolves into thin air. A wicked grin presses onto your face: that’s what she does to you. She makes you reckless.

There’s no need to talk any more.

As soon as the both of you are settled onto the backseats, Morgan grasps at your shirt and yanks you forward in a passionate kiss; you shut your eyes and lose yourself in the moment. She catches you by surprise with her abruptness, but you like it.

Because that’s what she is.

She’s a force of nature, unstoppable like a tidal wave. You can’t stop her, and you don’t wish to.

Her mouth keeps yours trapped until you part to gasp for air. Her hands wander over your body, exposing your skin and making you shiver at the contact; it’s a cold autumn day, after all.

But her fingertips spark with heat as they slide under your shirt and rub up and down, starting from your navel, up to the lines of your abs until they settle on your chest. She traces over the underwire of your bra in agonizingly slow motions, and her teeth tug at your lower lip before diving in for a steamy, open-mouthed kiss that makes you quiver with want.

Deprived of the sight, you blindly grope your way until you find her sides. Your fingers trail over her ribs down to her hips, gliding over the lace edge of her underwear which peeks out the top of her jeans.

Morgan breaks off the kiss and lets out a sharp hiss in response, pure animalistic desire painted across her striking features. Strong hands push you back onto the seat with surprising ease, as if you weigh nothing, and work on the buttons of your pants. Then she tugs at the waistband and pulls down with haste, the sheer force of her action dragging your body along with it.

Once you’re free of the restrictive garment, she grabs your hips and pulls you onto her lap, with your back against her chest and your legs laying over hers. Her lower lip drags leisurely across the side of your neck, up to the sensitive area behind your ear; as she does so, her warm breath prickles your skin and sends a flurry of shivers coursing through you, as sharp as knives yet a thousand times sweeter. Her hands grope your breasts from behind, eliciting louder and louder sounds from you.

It’s a chill day; but inside of that car, with your body pressed against hers, you can no longer feel the cold.

Morgan is feral, a hungry beast ready to devour you whole. And you just love to press her buttons.

You grind your hips down against hers, and her reaction is immediate. She grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls, forcing you to expose the tender skin of your neck to her frenzied mixture of kisses and bites. Sharp teeth graze the surface of your skin, the dangerous sensation drawing a whimper from your lips.

Then she replaces her mouth with a hand, which creeps around your throat just as her lips glide up to hover over your ear.

She whispers in it after nibbling on your earlobe, the contact sending goosebumps all over your skin. “Would you like this?” The pressure around your neck tightens, and you bite back a moan. That’s enough of an answer for her. “Of course you would.”

Morgan parts her legs, and yours along with them; then a hand slides in-between, shifting away the fabric of your underwear to reach your warmest spot.

Your head lolls back over her shoulder and a long, relieved exhale escapes your parted lips. Finally.

She wastes no more time and picks up the pace, eager to please you and hear just about every sound she can draw from your ecstatic self. Tension builds up quickly inside of you, and in-between a whimper and a pant, you mumble words of praise, encouragement, guidance, until her ego is absolutely sated.

Two fingers of her free hand slide into your mouth, and you promptly suck on them. This brings her such gratification that she rewards you with an even faster, incessant rhythm, and you know you won’t last long.

You gasp and claw at the seat beneath Morgan, legs shaking and back arching at the pleasure building up in your core, until your body can no longer contain it. That’s when her skilled touch makes you crumble, and you call out her name one last time.

Some minutes later, your eyes flutter open at the rumble of a distant thunder.

Condensation sticks to the windows, making it impossible to tell the weather conditions outside.

Looking around, you find Morgan sitting next to you. She placed you down more comfortably onto the seat during your afterglow; and now she’s inspecting your face with a satisfied smile, content with the mess she’s made of you.

Underneath the intense grey of her irises you can see a storm, perilous and uncontrollable. It swallows you into the depths of its might, and you do nothing to fight it.  

That’s what she is, just like a storm.

The Sun

With Farah it’s playful and sweet, it makes you truly feel alive.

 It all starts with a game.

It’s a scorching hot summer morning, and you’re taking a break from your combat training. It doesn’t take long before you end up engaging in yet another physical activity, as soon as the right vampire shows up.

Farah chases you down through the hallways of the warehouse, much to Ava’s chagrin. Though you’re certain she’s holding back her true speed for the game’s sake, you don’t hesitate to mock her inability to catch up.

“Stop running!” Her loud voice echoes through an empty corridor. “Just let me love you!” The vampire keeps up the melodramatic act rather convincingly, making you chuckle.

You turn around for the briefest moment and stick your tongue out at her.  “You’ll have to catch me first!”

“Is that so? Alright then, I’ll do my damn best!” The light tap of her footsteps quickens its pace and she gains momentum, sprinting towards you.  

You let out a squeal and run faster, darting past another corridor and turning to your right. You spot a door and push it open, too engrossed in the chase to even take notice of your surroundings.

As you look around the room you just inadvertently trapped yourself into, you quickly realize it’s your own bedroom.

But you have little time to mull over your impending defeat: Farah is fast, and she catches up to you within a split second.

“Ooooooh, so you brought me here? Was this your plan all along? So bold. I like it,” she calls out from the doorway behind you, and you turn to face her.

White rays shine through the window and spill onto the well-lit bedroom; every surface gleams under their touch.

Farah grins widely and takes a step forward; then another one, and another. Her deep amber eyes twinkle with amusement, resembling the ones of a lioness toying with her prey before diving in for the first bite. You make no attempt to move or retreat, utterly enraptured by the vision.

At last she pounces, tackling you to the ground. Her arms are secured around you to make sure the fall doesn’t hurt, and the both of you tumble down in a peal of giggles.

“That was too easy,” she says with a proud smile.

You roll your eyes, panting. “Supernatural advantage. You cheated.”

She grabs your face with a hand and squeezes your cheeks. “Aww, you’re so cute when you’re a sore loser,” she coos pursing her lips. “You’re so cute…”

Her words trail off, and a sudden seriousness spreads onto her features.

You look at each other in silence, now fully aware of the proximity.

Then she leans in.

At first it’s nothing more than a peck, as light as a flutter of wings, perhaps a way to test the waters. You can see the look in her eyes as she parts, badly concealed worry peering through as she studies your reaction.  

You beam and reach out to her, taking her face in your hands with a great deal of care. Her mood is instantly lifted as you kiss; and it gets less and less innocent as you go.

It’s just like a game.

Grabbing her shirt, you lift your head and place a kiss on her neck. Farah snorts a stifled chuckle but keeps you in place, clearly enjoying the contact.

Mischief flickers in your eyes as you part your lips and run your tongue briskly across the skin of her throat, drawing a gasp from the vampire on top of you.

“Eww, you licked me!” she complains, though the big smile on her face clarifies that she’s merely jesting.

Then she furrows her brow and glances down at you, and as she does, you can easily picture a light bulb going off in her head.

“You know what? I want revenge. Payback,” she declares, nodding to herself. From the devilish grin on her face, you have no doubt she’s up to something; and she’s quick to show you exactly what it is.

Farah crawls down your body until her face levels with your navel. Her fingers pinch the waistband of your light cotton shorts, and she stops.

Amber eyes pierce through you with a sudden solemnity as she looks up, asking a silent question, one that you decipher without any effort: shall we go on?

You nod with a smile; and as you do, playfulness colors her features again, as bright as the sunrays casting their glow onto your entangled bodies.

 “It tickles!” you squeal, reaching out to shove her face away – with no actual intent of doing so.

“Sorry about that, Detective,” she giggles in reply. “I’ll be more careful, promise.” Then she leaves another feathery kiss on your inner thigh, tickling you deliberately.

You squirm and laugh, unable to push her away. “You’ll pay for this-AH!”

Farah is no longer speaking. With a firm grip around your thighs, she’s finally having her revenge.

Your moans fill the room as you grind your hips against her. She sweeps her tongue slowly, as though savoring a spoonful of ice cream, building up a pace that makes your eyes roll back in your head.

Tension wells up in your chest, your face, your limbs, stretching out to where her mouth is working. As a familiar tingling sensation builds up within your core, making your toes curl, her grip on you gets firmer, and the rhythm of her tongue quicker, until you can no longer contain the heat.

Your entire body shakes with a final, deafening moan as you reach your climax. Squeezing your eyes shut, you clasp at the hem of your tank top until your racing heart steadies itself.

You pant and open your eyes. Farah is smirking at you, quite satisfied with her prowess.

“Do I win this round?” she asks, wiping a forearm across her mouth.

You quirk an eyebrow, about to form a reply; but a sudden thump of footsteps approaching from a distance interrupts your little game.

Farah presses her index finger against her lips, gesturing you to keep quiet.

The both of you scramble to your feet, snickering. You take her hand and guide her to the bathroom, where a shower will pose the perfect occasion for your own payback.

[smalltowndetective]

Sunshine

Here is the 17th request! Hope you guys enjoy! :D

And thank you to @agentnataliesewell for letting me use your detective! Hopefully I did Jasmine justice! :D

Ao3 Link (All requests can be found here!)

Title: Sunshine

Pairing: Farah and Jasmine “Jas” (agentnataliesewell’s detective)

Words:1k

Prompt: #21- “Sometimes, being a complete nerd comes in handy”

Jasmine looked over the chess board before her, the pieces scattered over on the middle of the board, and she looked back up at Farah and then back at the board.

               Having noticed the board in her apartment, Farah had asked her about it once, which led to her trying to teach her how to play.

               At first, Jasmine was sure that would not go over well at all, but she could be surprisingly patient when she wanted to be. She had listened quietly while she had gone over the rules, and seemed just genuinely interested in learning more.

               It was as Farah just knew just how important it was to her, and it made a smile appear on her lips.

               The past month had been a whirlwind between both of her jobs, but there was a bright spot in it all, her newly founded relationship. She used to never jump in this quickly, always wanting to wait before getting fully involved in anything, but that had not happened this time. Not in the slightest.

               She had thrown herself right in, without a hint of hesitance. There was just something in being around Farah, creating a sunshine that she had never had before in her life, Simply, she felt better with her around, like the world would never be able to get in and tear anything down, and she wanted nothing more then to tightly hold onto that and never let it go.

               After everything that had happened with Bobby, it still surprised her that she did so. She should have been worried about getting hurt, should she not? That she would be left out in the rain, with no one to turn to?

                But that seemed irrelevant now. She was fully in, despite with the logical part of her was slightly confused by that.

               It was not like anything she had before with anyone else, someone who was able to look beyond her rather intimidating front, and see something in it. Sometimes, Jasmine was not sure what she possibly saw in her, but she had anyway.

               And even though she made her blush something furious whenever they were together, she had decided that she liked that, not ever feeling that way about anyone before.

               It was new, exciting, and maybe a little bit terrifying as well, but a little bit of fear was worth it for what she was experiencing now.

               She had invited Farah over to her apartment that morning, maybe because she just seemed to fit here like no one ever did before. As if she belonged here, and would forever.

               A new meaning for home, home in a person, someone who made her smile and laugh like a lovesick teenager.

               “It’s your turn, Jas”, Farah suddenly said, breaking her out of her thoughts, “Don’t leave me hanging over here”

               Jasmine’s face seemed to light up at the use of her nickname. It was not something that she used often, usually avoiding it when she could, but there was something special when she used it. It was hard to explain in words, but it never failed to make her grin.

               “Sorry”, she said, giving her the hint of a laugh before moving her piece, barely being able to pay attention to where she was placing it when she caught her amber eyes.

               “You seem rather distracted”, Farah said, the faint hints of a smirk forming on her face, “That wouldn’t happen to be because of me, would it?”

               A flush crept up her neck, but she tried her best to return her smirk, “I think you know the answer to that”

               That seemed to surprise Farah for a second, but a small, genuine smile, started to make it’s way on her face, “Yeah… yeah, I really do”

               From the sudden heaviness in the room, Jasmine immediately tried to break it, “So, your turn?”

               “Of yeah, of course”, she muttered, her move leaving the opening in order for her to reach checkmate.

               “Checkmate!”, she quickly chirped out, to which Farah gave a laugh to.

               “You’re so good at this”, she muttered, but not a drop of envy in her words, just full of happiness, “That’s what, the fourth time you’ve won?”

               “Well, sometimes being a nerd comes in handy”, she grinned, as the two of them started to put the pieces back to where they belonged at the start of a game.

               “I’d say”, Farah said, returning her smile, “Maybe you should try playing Ava sometime. I’d like to see that”

               “Ava plays chess?”

               “She’ll play anything that she can win”, she replied, “But I’m sure you could probably beat her. And I’d love to see it”

               Jasmine momentarily thought about what playing a game with Ava would be like, and it almost made her laugh, knowing how seriously that she would take it, being quite different then what she was playing now.

               “We’ll see”, she finally said, seeing Farah’s eyes light up at that.

               “Oh, I can’t wait for this”, she beamed, “It’s going to be amazing”

               She turned back to her, her face starting to fill with mischief, like a cat when they see a Christmas tree, “Well, since you’ve won four games already, I expect that I’ll have to reward you”

               “Reward me? How?”

               “Isn’t it obvious”, she whispered as she leaned forward over the table slightly, and after looking over to her for permission, she kissed her.

               Kissed her as she had many times before, but it was amazing each and every time. Like she fell for her every single time that they did it again, no exceptions in the slightest. Like coming home after a long day, full of familiarity and closeness, like home.

               She could feel Farah smile into the kiss, and she whispered, her face still against hers, “Was that an adequate reward, Jas?”

               “You know it was”, Jasmine said in return, opening her eyes until they were stuck there, gazing at each other, the rest of the world might as well had dissolved around them. As if they were all that mattered.

               Leaning forward again, Farah kissed her, and she let herself be lost in it again, knowing that she was happier then she ever had been before.

[fairhavens]

[kajasartspace]

My girls being cute in each other’s t-shirts 💗

The Wayhaven Chronicles and it’s characters belong to @seraphinitegames

[somewillwin]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BEST VAMPIRE 💖✨

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