#i know i will feel empty for the next five to ten business days

[the-kuvira-beifong]

so that was a lot of emotional damage

^ me talking about interstellar

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | close as strangers (post chb)

a/n: okayyyy so i didn't give them an angst ending but i had to give into the angst monster at least once for this series so here's a bonus chapter for poisoned mercury. miscommunication galore. long distance is hard! two dumbasses in love!

song: close as strangers by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

"i'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?" luke whispered, trying not to wake his bandmates up. the tour bus was large enough to house them while they were on the road, but it didn't really give the privacy he hoped for. chris was just across the narrow walkway from him and luke could hear his soft snores through the thin curtain that separated them. 

luke felt his heart hammering in his chest when you didn't reply to him. he could still hear your breaths through the phone and you were just talking to him a second ago, so he knew you were still awake. you both had equally busy lives which meant that your phone calls were getting shorter and shorter each day. luke knew it was because you were booked with school and tournaments for field hockey and he was always exhausted after each meeting now that the band was working on their second album. luke knew all of this, but it didn't stop him from missing you. he was lucky to get a ten-minute call with you nowadays. 

"baby?" he tried again, chewing on his bottom lip. he turned to face the ceiling of his bunk, the light from his phone casting a shadow on his face as he waited for you to say something. anything. "can i call you tomorrow?" 

you sighed, "i don't know, luke. i have a busy day. it's a travel game tomorrow so i don't know if i'll be up late." 

"oh," he cleared his throat, trying to hide his disappointment. he felt a little stupid that there were tears pooling in his eyes. so you can't talk tomorrow, it shouldn't be a big deal, right? except that luke felt like you were pulling away from him. little by little. and he didn't know how to stop it. it wasn't like he could drop everything to show up at your doorstep and fix things with you. if it was up to him, he would do it in a heartbeat, but you'd probably get mad at him for it, for abandoning his responsibilities as the lead singer of the most popular band in the world. not to mention the boys would be livid and mr. d and his mom would be equally furious. 

"sorry, maybe next week?" 

"yeah, sure," he replied, thankful that you weren't on facetime tonight. he didn't want you to see his face. "alright, i'll let you get some rest. go kill it tomorrow. g'night, five star." 

"goodnight," you said, ending the call as soon as the last syllable left your lips. 

luke groaned quietly, tossing his phone on the foot of his bed. he knew long distance was going to be difficult. it's been months since he last saw you, months since he was at camp half blood, sleeping in your bed and waking up to the feeling of your lips peppering kisses on his face. maybe he shouldn't have gotten so attached so fast, but it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter. 

he got out from his bunk, tucking his feet into his slippers and made his way to the living room area of the bus. he sat on the couch, peering out the window to watch the empty roads ahead. they were on their way to nashville to meet with a producer that mr. d recommended. the second album was almost done, but it was missing something and none of them wanted to put out a record that didn't meet their expectations. 

mr. d was already in tennessee waiting for them. he'd flown in from houston a few days ago with luke's mom and the rest of the poisoned mercury team while the boys were in atlanta for a movie premiere. they decided that a road trip was needed to de-stress after the glitz and buzz of the red carpet. it was nice to have some alone time with the boys. in their tour bus, luke felt like they were back in connecticut, just four friends fucking around, writing music, and eating junk food until their stomachs hurt. 

he turned on the tv, switching to some random channel that he wasn't paying attention to. he just needed some noise to drown out his thoughts, but that didn't seem to work. all he could think of was you, his five star, and how much he missed you. luke wondered if you were having second thoughts about this whole thing. maybe he'd been too optimistic about things; maybe you weren't on the same page as he was; maybe you realized that it was too difficult to be with him. 

a shiver ran down his spine as he spiraled into his thoughts. admitting to himself that something was wrong between the two of you left a bitter taste in his mouth because he didn't want to believe it. he saw you as his endgame, like nobody else in the world could compare to you, and to think that you may not feel the same about him... well, it was a difficult pill to swallow.

he wondered if he came on too strong, showed his cards too early, and seemed too clingy and lovestruck before it was deemed appropriate. you'd only been together, officially at least, for four months, most of which were long distance, but luke knew he was a goner for you way before that. 

he silently cursed as the chill of the december air hit his skin. he should've worn a hoodie. he grabbed the small throw blanket draped over the armchair and placed it around his shoulders. he wished he got to see you over thanksgiving break because maybe you two wouldn't be in this rocky situation right now, but your coach ordered you and clarisse to stay on campus over break to sharpen your skills since you missed summer training. luke and chris were less than pleased with the idea, but they knew it was out of their control. 

luke fell asleep on the couch that night after succumbing to the tiredness in his body. the sun was beginning to rise by the time his eyelids fluttered shut. he hoped that he'd wake up to a text from you, but when he woke up to the sound of the bus screeching to a halt in nashville, he realized it was the hope that kills. 

-

“are you guys going to the fall concert?” silena asked, poking her head out of the bathroom. she was part of the planning committee for the unc fall semester concert and she’d been stressing over the logistics of it for weeks. 

“lena, if we even tried to miss it, you’d kill us,” clarisse chuckled, putting on a coat of mascara. “you’ve been talking about this since we got back.” 

the three of you were getting ready in your dorm. you and clarisse were roommates this year, thank gods for athlete privileges, and silena lived in the building next door in a single since she was an ra. how she had the time to be an ra, be a member of the music festival planning committee, and be a full-time student was truly beyond your comprehension. 

“lena, calm down. it’ll be good,” you squeezed her shoulders as you passed by behind her, grabbing your lipgloss from the counter. “and even if it sucks, half the people in the crowd are either drunk or high or both and will probably not remember it.” 

“true,” she snorted, curling the final piece of her hair. she unplugged her hair curler and gave herself one last look in the mirror, “i’ll see you guys there? i gotta go make sure shit didn’t hit the fan.” 

you and clarisse nodded as silena said her goodbyes. you dabbed on some lipgloss, glancing down at your phone every few seconds. clarisse side-eyed you, unable to hide her smile, “you waitin’ for a text?” 

“shut up,” you rolled your eyes at her teasing tone. she didn't really know that your relationship was a little muddy at the moment. you weren’t the best at talking about your feelings and it felt wrong to talk about your relationship drama when clarisse and chris seemed to be going strong. “they’re supposed to land in los angeles ten minutes ago.” 

“their flight probably got delayed, y/n,” she replied, “happens all the time.” 

“no, i know, but just wanna make sure they’re safe, y’know?” 

clarisse crossed her arms over her chest, “they’re safe or he’s safe?” 

you ignored her question, opting to busy yourself with the weather app on your phone to avoid any follow-up questions, “how are you not checking your phone for a text from chris right now?” 

she shrugged, “he always knocks out on long flights so i don’t expect a text until he gets to their hotel.” 

“how are you and chris, by the way? i know we live together and shit, but i feel like we haven’t gotten to talk about it in detail since we’re always so tired from school and practice.” 

“we’re good,” clarisse hummed, “just miss him loads, though. i haven’t seen him since we left camp– what? four, almost five, months ago?” 

you were in the same boat, kind of. you and luke hadn’t seen each other in months and you were getting antsy. they’d been on the road for the past few months, meeting with producers and fulfilling their contractual obligations. they hadn’t been in a set location long enough for you to be able to fly out to see luke, even just for a weekend. 

at first, there were movie dates where you’d order each other food and eat and watch the movie on facetime together. there were weekly phone calls and daily texts, but nothing compares to the real thing. being with luke in person was something that you were craving. camp half blood spoiled you with having him all for yourself and now that you were back in school and he’s out in the world, it was beginning to weigh on you. 

you missed him. a lot. 

you missed kissing him and feeling his lips break out into a smile when you’d mumble something stupid. you missed feeling his arms around you, hugging you from behind while you got ready for the day. you even missed waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of him scribbling random lyrics on pieces of scrap paper he found in your room when he slept over. 

long distance is hard and sure, luke wouldn’t be the type to cheat or do anything to jeopardize your relationship, but it still didn’t stop a knot from forming in your stomach every time a picture of him or the band popped up on your social media with a gorgeous singer, actor, or model that they ran into on the red carpet. what if he realizes one day that he wants someone who lives the same life as him? wild and adventurous, not tied down by school or sports? 

a part of you felt silly for being so insecure about things. it was too early in the relationship to have this conversation, isn’t it? you knew that your avoidance of the topic was starting to affect your relationship with luke, as much as you wished it didn’t, but what if the minute you voice your concerns, he’ll realize that being with you was more than he bargained for? after all, you weren’t the same five star with all the time in her hands, care-free, and relaxed that he met at camp. there was a chance that luke would call it quits on this if you said anything and it felt like too big of a risk to take. 

your phone buzzed on the counter, indicating a text.

from: luke <3 

‘landed and jetlagged. gonna sleep for a few. enjoy the concert babe!’ 

you hearted the message and slipped your phone into your back pocket after sending him a quick goodnight text. the three dots popped up for a second, then in a blink, they disappeared. read at 8:43 pm. 

“you ready?” 

you snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of clarisse’s voice. you nodded and grabbed your small purse before heading out the door. you ran into a group of your teammates who were heading to the amphitheater across campus for the concert. the walk seemed to fly by as they cracked jokes and shared stories about random things. you stayed silent for the most part, only laughing along when it seemed like the right time, but your mind was somewhere else. your mind was in los angeles. 

by the time you got to the venue, you and clarisse separated from the group to enter the vip tent, courtesy of silena. a small crowd was beginning to form in front of the stage, taking up the grassy field. charlie was already at the tent, sipping on an ipa when he saw the two of you. his face broke out into a wide smile, giving you and clarisse a quick hug before leading you to the seats he saved. 

“season’s looking promising for you guys, charlie,” you commented, accepting the high noon he offered. “the team’s looking good out there.” 

“thanks,” he beamed, “don’t think we’re on the level of national champs just yet like you guys, but we’re trying!” 

“you guys are doing great,” clarisse chimed in, “the energy in the stadium is electric this year. makes me love college.” 

“are you telling me the papers and tests aren’t what makes you love college, la rue?” charlie teased. 

she snorted, “oh yeah, because i just love staying up until 1 am writing a paper on greek mythology for classics 101.”

the three of you fell into a comfortable conversation about the class you were all taking. it was a prerequisite class that most athletes choose to take because the professor was flexible with deadlines when it came to athletes. it was helpful especially when a team has to play beyond their season for tournaments or championships. about ten minutes before the opening act got on stage, silena rushed into the tent.

“guys, please you need to come with me. i need your help,” she said frantically. she was nervously tugging on her ‘staff’ badge around her neck, already halfway out of the tent as she waited for the three of you to follow her. “please, it’s an emergency.” 

“woah, lena, what’s going on?” you asked, getting up to comfort her. you followed her through the crowd, grabbing clarisse’s hand to keep her close. 

silena shook her head, continuing her march through the sea of people, “just come with me, i’ll explain when we get backstage.” 

you and clarisse looked at each other, feeling bad for silena. she put in her blood, sweat, and tears into this concert and you knew that she would beat herself up over it if something went wrong. silena always put her all into the projects she’s passionate about, but sometimes things outside of her control happen and unfortunately, she blames herself for it. 

in the whirlwind of ‘excuse me’s’ and ‘sorry’s’, the four of you managed to make your way backstage. it was chaotic. people were running around everywhere making sure everything was set for the opening act. the girl who was opening the concert was waiting by the wings, her guitar strapped across her chest as she took some deep breaths. the crowd wasn’t full yet, but you knew that if you were in that position, you’d still be sweating buckets. going out there on stage to perform for strangers was nerve-racking. you didn’t know how luke did it. you admired that about him. 

“lena, are you gonna tell us what’s going on?” clarisse questioned, picking up the pace of her steps to match silena. 

silena stopped in front of a door, slowly turning to face you and clarisse. suddenly, her stressed facade faded as she twisted the doorknob, “why don’t you see for yourself?” 

if you weren’t so confused about what was going on, you would’ve seen charlie lift his can up to his lips to hide his smile at how proud he was of his girlfriend for her acting skills. when the door opened, your heart stopped. 

luke was here. 

he stood in the middle of the room beside chris with a nervous smile on his face. he was wearing a black leather jacket on top of a white tank top and black pants. his poisoned mercury chain hung from his neck, shining under the overhead lights. his hands were stuffed in his front pockets, shy and timid, as he waited for your reaction. 

clarisse screamed when it hit her that chris was actually here. she ran to him and nearly tackled him to the floor. chris wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and laughed as she giggled into his neck. the two of them shared a heartfelt reunion before rushing out of the room to get some privacy. the sound of the door shutting behind you made you blink.

luke cleared his throat, right hand scratching the back of his neck, “hey, five star.” 

the nickname brought you back to your senses. you ran to him, engulfing him in a tight hug with an ‘umph.’ at first, luke was tense under your touch, unsure if you’d be happy with his surprise, but quickly, he melted into you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, sighing in content as your familiar scent surrounded him. he felt sparks coursing through his veins as you hugged him tighter and all he could think about was how good it felt to have you in his arms again. his mind was still reeling at your reaction. he didn’t expect you to run to him like this, especially not when it felt like you’d been avoiding his calls over the last few weeks. 

“what are you doing here?” you asked him, pulling away to hold his face in your hands. your eyes twinkled as you raked over his face, still in disbelief that he was actually in front of you. “you’re supposed to be in la.”

luke couldn’t stop the lopsided smile on his face, “well, i lied? we were in nashville recording with your dad and he mentioned that he didn’t schedule a session for us this weekend in case me and chris wanted to take a trip to north carolina, so here we are.” 

you ran your thumbs over his cheekbones, whispering, “here you are.” 

“god, i missed you so much,” he said, voice breaking. “you have no idea how hard it’s been.” 

you gulped, your hold on his face faltering a bit. if luke wasn’t on edge, he wouldn’t have noticed the falter in your step, but he felt the slight hesitation in your actions. your warm touch slowly peeled away from his face and he instantly regretted saying those words. here he goes being clingy again. he removed his hands from your waist, clearing his throat. he sat on the couch, motioning for you to sit beside him. he tried to keep his hands to himself when you left a space between the two of you. 

“i still can’t believe you’re really here,” you said, staring at him. you wanted to lean over and hold him in your arms again, but there was a weird tension in the air that made you feel queasy. “i feel like i’m dreaming right now.” 

“i hope you’re not mad that i’m here,” luke looked down at his lap, flexing his hands. he had to keep his hands busy or else he’d surely reach for yours and he didn’t want to come on too strong. he had to keep his distance. he didn’t want to scare you off any more than he already did. “there was just an opening in the schedule and i-i wanted to see you.” 

“i’m not mad at all.” 

“good, good,” he replied. silence. he forced himself to look up from his lap, twisting his body to face you. he bit his bottom lip, trying to build up the courage to ask his next question. “are we okay?” 

“we’re okay.” 

“okay because i feel like things have been different between us lately,” he pursed his lips, looking at you with sad eyes. his tongue poked out the corner of his lips, eyes darting between you and the wall behind you. “i don’t know. i feel like we haven’t talked in ages, y’know? and i know you’re busy and you have a great life here that i’m not really a part of, but uh, i wanna be, y’know? i don’t know much about school or field hockey, but it’s important to you and you’re important to me so i wanna hear about it.” 

he was met with more silence. luke continued, “maybe i’m asking for too much when i ask you to let me be a part of this life, but uh, i miss you? and i just feel like i’m losing you and that’s the last thing i want. so you gotta give me something, five star. tell me what i can do to be better.” 

“if you need me to back off, i’ll do it, you know? you call the shots. you tell me what you need from me, and i’ll do it, okay? i just– i can’t lose this. i don’t wanna lose you,” luke mumbled. “maybe this is all in my head too. i don’t know anymore.” 

you shuddered, lip quivering, “i feel like i’m holding you back.” 

“what?” 

“come on, luke,” you flicked away the tear that trickled down your cheek, “you’re out there in the world doing what you love. meeting new people. living your life and i don’t want to hold you back from that. we met each other when i didn’t have all these responsibilities and who i was at camp is not who i am here and i know you love those impromptu adventures and trips and spontaneity. a-and i can’t give that to you.” 

“you deserve someone who can live this life with you and i’m stuck here for two more years, luke. i can’t do that,” it was getting hard to breathe. your throat felt like it was closing up, cutting off your airflow. you’d been putting off this conversation for weeks. it didn’t feel right to talk about this over the phone, and you thought that you had a few more weeks to figure out what to say to him when you saw him for winter break, but he was here now. “you deserve more than facetime calls and text messages, and that’s all i can offer.” 

“is this–” he paused, licking his lips. “is this not what you want anymore?” 

“what?” 

“this, us? is this just not what you want anymore?” 

an involuntary laugh escaped you as you wiped under your eye, “castellan, i don’t think i could stop wanting you even if i wanted to. and you know when we first met, i really wanted to.” 

luke moved closer to you, just an inch or two, trying to gauge your reaction. you didn’t move away, which he took as a good sign, “i’m confused. why do you sound like you want to end this then?” 

“i don’t want you to settle for this,” you sighed, “i know what you deserve and it isn’t this.” 

“bullshit.” 

you furrowed your eyebrows, looking at him in disbelief, “what?” 

“i’m sorry, five star, but that’s bullshit,” a small smile was tugging on his lips. he reached over to place a hand over yours. his fingers traced your knuckles, running the pads of his fingers across the familiar ridges of your skin. “i don’t understand how after all this time you still don’t realize that all i want is you. it’s ridiculous, really.” 

“it’s ridiculous?” 

“it’s ridiculous,” he chuckled wetly. his other hand rubbed at his eyes, clearing his foggy vision. “our situation isn’t ideal, i know that, but i’d take long distance with you over anything else with anyone else. don’t you get it, five star? you’re it for me. if this isn’t what you want anymore, i’ll accept that. but if you’re only doing this because you don’t think i want this… five star, i want it all with you. long distance. phone calls. text messages. weekend trips when we can get them. distance has nothing on how i feel about you.” 

leave it to luke castellan to make you blush. you shyly looked at him, eyes twinkling with something more than either of you bargained for when you first met in that secret spot you call yours, “how do you feel about me?” 

“i’m not gonna say it right now because i don’t want to have the first time be while we’re in a fight,” luke laughed. the air was starting to clear. “but i have a feeling you know.” 

“i know,” you squeezed his hand three times, “i do too.” 

“will you put me out of my misery and kiss me please?” 

“always so fucking dramatic,” you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes, but you leaned over and pressed your lips to his.

[pregnant-piggy]

hey I want wondering if you could do a harry j potter x reader oneshot when the are dating for a few months (takes place in ootp or hbp I don’t really mind which) and reader is still not completely comfortable with cuddling and that kind of stuff with harry cause she just isn’t used to physical contact and one day when harry wants to cuddle with her in the evening she stiffens or flinches and harry is extremely worried (yk him and his adorable overreacting) cause he doesn’t know if she has any trauma or something and you can make the rest up just make it extremely fluffy (only if you want to do it tho I just think it’d be very cute <3)

hi love, so while my requests are technically not open, you were lucky there weren't many requests from my celebration so i did write this :) and it wouldn't be a blurb from me if it wasn't 1.3k words (i swear i'm not doing it on purpose)

Flinch

The fire spit out sparks near your feet as you poured over your Divination homework. You were halfway but it was becoming harder and harder to come up with solutions and explanations of your dreams and with every minute that passed your concentration grew smaller. Not that there had been much to begin with when you'd started, but whether you liked it or not, the deadline was approaching fast.

Just as you'd finished describing your dream of last Thursday—something to do with unruly black hair and glasses—you got interrupted. Someone dropped to the couch behind where you were sitting on the floor and let out a loud sigh. Then in the corner of your eye you saw a flash of red hair darting to the last empty chair on your side, followed by a "How gentleman-like of you, Ron".

Hermione sat down next to you on the floor and glanced at your parchment. "I feel sad for you."

"You should," you said, dropping your quill and massaging your forehead with your fingers. "It's a wreck."

"Wait a minute." Ron perked up from his slouch in the armchair. "Why did you not feel sorry for me when I complained about it today?"

Hermione shook her head. "Because you don't even try, Ron! You predicted you'd be caught by a mob of horses and be forced to turn into a centaur."

"So?" Ron shrugged. "That's just what my dream meant."

"Be careful," you said to Ron. "Or soon you'll dream it's a mob of Hermiones chasing you."

Ron shivered as if that was the worst nightmare anyone could have and behind you Harry barked a laugh. You looked back at your boyfriend and smiled. The dating thing was still new and you were trying to find your way with it, but you were glad to have made him laugh.

"Hush now," you said, waving a hand towards Ron. "I want to finish this."

You did get silence but only for five minutes or so before Ron started to talk about the upcoming quidditch game against Ravenclaw. You, who had been busy coming up with a dream for Friday—maybe Ron's technique wasn't all that bad after all—got pulled from your focus. You tried for ten more minutes, but eventually had to admit that you were doing more bad than good and would have to correct everything you wrote tomorrow so you gave up  You threw your quill down and rested back against the bottom of the sofa, right next to Harry's legs.

Without turning away from his conversation, he laid his hand atop your head and started massaging it.

You froze, heart skipping a beat and pumping twice as fast after. Every muscle in your body grew rigid, frozen, and you carefully moved away, pretending to grab something of the table, but in fact trying to get away as unnoticeable as possible.

No one noticed. Harry's hand fell back but he said nothing nor did he move closer again. With a pounding heart you stared at your Divination paper, pretending you were fixing a mistake.

It wasn't Harry's fault. Really not. You'd never been good with physical contact but you also never thought it a real problem till you got together with Harry. Now each time he wrapped an arm around you or reached for your hand, you froze, panicked, feared. You weren't even sure why.

You also didn't know if Harry had noticed. He had never said anything about it and whenever it happened and you pulled away he seemed not to notice it. But you knew it wasn't fair to him and you did try to do better. Just yesterday he had taken your hand and without too much panic you'd held onto it for the entire walk.

It was a slow process and many times you were on the verge of telling him about it, but you were scared.

After a few minutes of calming down, you got up and sat next to Harry on the sofa, leaving enough space so you weren't touching but no one would think anything of it.

Ron was animatedly telling a story about Flitwick who had fallen off his chair and Harry turned to you.

"You alright?" he asked softly.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You bit your lip and Harry's gaze flicked down but back up quickly.

"Are you sure?" he went on. "You seem a bit off."

"No, all's good. Don't worry." You shrugged. "Just tired."

"Okay." Harry's mouth split into a smile. "'Cause you'd tell me if something was wrong right?"

"Of course." You tried a smile and apparently it was convincing enough for him to drop the subject.

"It's not that funny, Ron," Hermione said, tearing your focus from Harry. She shook her head while Ron wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Next to you, Harry smiled lazily. "It kinda was. He made the funniest noise ever." He proceeded to make some high-pitched noise that had Ron roaring with laughter in his chair until he fell off.

"Serves you right," Hermione mumbled, but there was a smile on her face.

You laughed and sunk a little more into the sofa. So much that you almost didn't see what happened next to you. Almost.

Harry stretched out his arm to lay it over your shoulders and before you could stop it, you flinched.

And this time there was no mistaking it. He noticed.

"What-?" he stuttered.

Your eyes were wide, your body frozen in shock. You hadn't meant for it to happen, didn't even know it would happen. You'd been on edge all day, tired, overworked, but you never figured it would end up like this.

And unfortunately not only Harry noticed.

"Ron," Hermione said. "Ron, come on. I want to talk to you."

Ron looked up from where he hadn't even bothered get up from the floor. "Why?"

"Just something." Hermione's eyes flicked to your frozen body and Harry's face that you were too afraid to look at. "Quickly. Come on, Ron."

"Alright, fine. But I don't see what could possibly be so important."

"Just come!"

Hermione quickly left, Ron following after her reluctantly. You were glad she'd given you some privacy, but you didn't want to see the undoubtedly hurt look on Harry's face.

"y/n?" Harry didn't reach out for you and somehow that hurt. "Can you look at me?"

You took a deep breath and looked up. You had expected pain, anger, disappointment, but instead there was only worry and confusion. Harry's eyes were full of concern and that gave you the slightest of hope. He didn't hate you.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"I'm trying really hard, Harry. It's just... physical contact and touch and everything---it doesn't come easy to me. I don't know why; it's just always been so for me." You looked down at your hands in your lap. "And I want to change that. I do. But it takes time."

Harry was silent for a long time and you didn't look at him. You'd understand if he didn't want to see you any longer, if he wanted to break things off. You'd hate that, of course, but you'd understand.

"We have time."

"What?"

You lifted your gaze to his face. He was watching you with a smile.

"You said it takes time. We have time. All the time in the world if we need."

"You mean that," you realised.

"I do. I don't want to lose you over something like this. We'll find our way with it. I promise."

A watery laugh fell from your lips. You nodded, more relieved than words could describe. He didn't hate you, not at all. Your fears had been ungrounded.

"Thank you," you said. And very carefully, you placed your hand atop Harry's one. Nerves spiked in your chest, but you pushed them down. "It's not that I hate you touching me. It's just a bit more difficult."

Harry turned his hand over and held yours. He was careful, soft.

"That's alright," he said. "I'm still yours."

- - - - - - -

hp taglist: @kingalrdy @missswriter @awritingtree @ananad1 @secretsthathauntus @izzyyy-1 @nyotamalfoy @xxinvisiblexx @idli-dosa @lacunaanonymoused @kitkatkl @d22malfoys

[cameronspecial]

some angst inspired by july of noah cyrus?

can't really describe it

Slow Death

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mention of Abuse

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Masterlist

It’s hard to say when they fell in love with each other. It’s even harder to say when they fell out of love with each other. Neither Y/N nor Rafe could tell when they stopped being by each other’s side because they couldn’t fathom being apart, but because the change was a thing they were both afraid of. Y/N thinks it was a culmination that caused the shift in their relationship instead of one event that changed it all. One fight about who is going to do the dishes turned into a constant battle over the smallest and biggest things. 

———

Tears stream down her face as she replays his words in her mind. God, when did you become such a burden? The reminder of the burden she has become to the person she once loved causes a new wave of agony to come over her and as she feels herself hyperventilating, she begins to count to ten like her mother taught her. One, Two. Breath In. Three, Four. Breath Out. Five, Six. Breath In. Seven, Eight. Breath Out. Nine, Ten. Breath In. Her breath steadies and she peaks out to the balcony to see if Rafe is going to come in. Instead, she finds him relaxing on a deck chair with a beer resting in his hand. He isn’t facing her, yet his body language tells her he is in the same amount of pain as her. Exhaustion overwhelms her and she feels her eyes flutter. As sleep overcomes her, she is left wondering why they are both so okay with living a lifetime, slowly dying on the inside. 

———

She wakes up the next day and isn’t surprised to see her bedside empty. Her normal morning routine is followed to a T. The floorboards creak as she pads to the kitchen to make breakfast and annoyance floods her when she sees the kitchen island littered with beers. There has to be around twenty. Topper and Kelce must have come over once she fell asleep because Rafe could’ve never drunk all of that by himself. He sits at the counter, hunching over a bowl of cereal. She knows he has no plan to clean up his mess. “It isn’t that hard to put glasses in the recycling. It is literally at the end of the counter. You wouldn’t have to walk more than five feet to get to it,” she criticizes. Her mind busies as she begins to clean the mess. He grunts, “I don’t need you to mother me, Y/N.” The tone in his voice gives her the courage to stop pretending everything is fine. “What are we doing, Rafe?” 

“What?” The spoon he is holding drops and clangs against the ceramic bowl. She takes a deep breath, “Why are we still together if all we do is fight?” His hand runs through his hair and gives the ends a tug. “Because we love each other,” he argues.

She drops the beer glass she has in her hand onto the table. “Do we? Rafe, every single day, you remind me that I am not enough for you. That I’m not who you want so why am I still here?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Tell me to leave! Then, I’ll pack my bags and get on the road.”

“I can’t do that. So if you want to go, then you can go all on your own.” 

She processes his words, wondering if maybe they mean there is still hope for their love. Except, she can’t let that hope override what is happening right now. She musters up her courage, “I’ll go.” His mouth parts slightly before he bites the corner of his lips. A shine glosses over his eyes and she is sure her expression mirrors his. Her steps are less certain as she makes her way back upstairs. The hard floor digs into her knees while she kneels in front of the bed to pull out her luggage. She hesitates. Memories of all the time change has screwed up her life come to mind. When she changed university, she ended up hating it because her new school was always on strike. When she decided to move out of her cozy apartment for a new fancier one, the new one ended up being built with a slew of violations. And the most important one of all, when her mother left her father for someone new. Her new stepfather ended up being an abusive asshole. Change hasn’t been kind to Y/N in the past, so why should she trust it now? 

The luggage is left in its place under the bed and she raises, going back downstairs to finish cleaning. Rafe says nothing as she recycles the rest of the bottles and gets to work on making herself breakfast. Because they may be dying a slow death, but at least it will be a familiar one. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[beforetimes]

amusing myself with a post-dofp, pre-apocalypse fix-it wherein peter goes back to the x mansion much earlier and gets to help in fixing it up. because, like, as lowkey traumatizing as erik's speech probably was for peter in the moment, i can't imagine he'd want to squander the opportunity to take a look back at these ppeople who had brought him into the fold of this new world they'd introduced him to before anyone else knew about it. i think it's plausible that he didn't go back to the school after that speech because, maybe he wanted to lay low so his little sister and mother wouldn't get dragged into whatever mess he'd been complicit in unleashing on the world. but i don't buy that he wouldn't go back earlier, either, especially with all the time in the world to think [agonize] over these strange people who were like him when he didn't know any mutants before, either.

so! let's say peter goes back to the mansion following erik's news broadcast to keep distance from his family to keep them safe. what next?

well when he gets there, it's obviously a dump compared to what it used to be. charles hasn't bothered to fix it up when he was on a ten year bender and hank was busy keeping charles from self-destructing and logan was there for a day at most

peter, however, is armed with superspeed and is an overzealous teenager who was challenged ("how fast do you really think you can clean all this? what, half a day?" "half a day for one room? you're kidding, man—") and now he has his pride on the line so obviously he commits to clearing out dust to prove he's the best duster to ever step foot in this stupid mansion

and he's maybe, like, halfway through the first room before he's realized what he's been roped into but also he doesn't really care because he's so bored and by now he'd probably have ramsacked a grocery store near home for more food he doesn't need but his heart squeezes a little at thinking like that—thinking about using his powers so openly after seeing this guy threaten to kill the president and now everyone knows about mutants and their only examples are 'terrorist' and 'not terrorist' and he really doesn't want to think about his sweet little sister still small enough to sit in his lap watching him step outside to break the law like that man did and phew why does being associated with this guy he broke out of prison make his chest hurt so much? whatever he'll just ignore that and keep cleaning because if he's cleaning he's not putting his family in danger and who knows maybe other kids will find their way here

and then he imagines little gap-toothed mutants about five or six years old running down the empty halls of this forboding sad mansion and the dark hallways make him feel a little more sick so he runs through and opens every curtain in about two seconds and feels less like throwing up and wow he doesn't think he's ever felt this lopsided in his life

and so peter works through about two floors by the end of the day and crashes in a bed to sleep for five hours before immediately raiding the fridge for about three thousand calories worth of food and makes his way through most of charles' newly restocked perishibles before the man even makes his way into the kitchen looking for some coffee or whatever

and peter isn't really mad but he is feeling a little off-centre about the fact that this was the guy who brought him to the pentagon to break a terrorist out of jail and even though it was really cool and he had so much fun doing it and it was the first time in a while he wasn't bored for an entire day he still feels a bit cheated because he didn't know he was breaking out a terrorist but charles definitely did and he was mad but he kind of didn't care and he left peter with a car to drop off and nothing else even though he dragged peter into this mess and was now pretending nothing happened

so peter leaves the room before charles can blink and spends the next week dodging him and hank is stressed and charles is stressed and the woman from the cia who visits, like, once, can feel it too because peter can tell she's stressed by the look on her face he snags a glance at when he's rooting through her wallet in superspeed and everyone is tense and stressed and peter is kind of regretting this because he could just hide in his basement until he's absolutely sure no one from the pentagon remembers his face and the fbi won't break down his mother's door to take him away from his family

and one night he's really not feeling it so he calls his mom and he doesn't really look at the date but he guesses it's important because the moment the phone picks up and he says "hello?" his mother is just spilling out so many things to him like one secret after the other and peter can usually notice everything because he's always got time to look at the details but everything feels syrupy and goes in one ear and out the other until the next morning when he sits down at the table and is in the same room as charles for the first time in weeks and all he can think is my mom knew someone who could do that

so now he's got this whole mess to think about so he doesn't have any time or energy left to be mad-not-mad at charles and hank which is crazy because he has so much energy all the time and he guesses that the pair of adults are taking their blessings without questioning them because they continue on as normal and peter only gets one day of things being sort of not entirely awful while the news settles in before he opens the door at eleven in the evening and finds magneto from the news on their porch with blood all over his side

and peter kind of blanks out or he stares too long or something because magneto says something and then all of a sudden peter's rushed the two of them down to hank's lab where hank pretends he wasn't listening to black sabbath because he's distinguished or whatever and there's a lot of yelling and panicking and peter stays at the side while charles joins them a few minutes later to talk calmly while everyone yells and eventually no one is yelling and magneto is fixed up and charles is staring and hank is glaring and peter opens his big dumb mouth and trips into the worst situation of his life entirely by accident

which is where he invited magneto to stay until he's feeling better

and everyone looks at him and even he's not sure why he said it because he doesn't know how he feels about magneto because he's been dreaming about having a father for years and years and he always imagined him as a boring old man who wasn't particularly anything special at all and the type of person who would float from city to city just working as a placeholder for a lot of other women instead of specifically screwing over peter's mom

and he didn't think his father would be a terrorist and he doesn't know if he wants to imagine magneto and father in the same sentence but all he's really thinking about is that new animated robin hood thing he saw with his sister and how that marian wondered if robin remembered her and robin wondered if marian remembered him and they were both thinking about each other without knowing it and peter doesn't know if his—magneto—remembered his mother but he can't stop himself from offering anyway

so now after a lot of silent conversation between charles and hank where peter is left out of the loop because his brain makes charles nauseus, magneto is given a room to stay in under the condition he doesn't try to, fucking, blow up the school or whatever the hell he wants to do to make everyone think mutants are evil. peter paraphrases the rules to sound like that in his head because charles is much more formal aloud

and if he thought the stress and regret and everything else that made him want to throw up was bad before, then phew he had no idea what was lying in store with him when it came to magneto because that guy is a perpetual storm cloud over a bright and sunny day no matter what happens, somehow

and peter knows he probably has a tragic backstory because he heard as much from charles late one night when they both couldn't sleep and peter couldn't help but ask what magneto was like when he was younger and charles looked so sad peter almost regretted asking but didn't because curiosity was going to eat him alive before he got a chance to blink

so peter doesn't know all of it but he knows it was bad and magneto is allowed to be upset but also it isn't cool he tried to murder the president and that's the one part that keeps screaming in his head every time he reconciles with the fact that he invited this guy to stay at someone else's mansion when the only reason peter was here was to keep his family and by proxy himself safe from this type of stuff

so he's proven to himself he's the dumbest person alive about three times over and he's still helping with renovations in that stupid mansion and he's wiped at the kitchen table when someone slides a glass of orange juice to him at ten in evening and he looks up and hey it's magneto he knows that guy

and that guy is like, terrifying as fuck so peter kind of chokes on his thanks which makes magneto's eyes look stormy and kind of sad and wow he didn't know that was a thing that could happen he sort of throught terrorists were above feelings especially after attempting to kill presidents

so peter kind of says sorry and magneto says sorry and no one says anything until magneto says its very impressive how much he's been doing to help out around here and peter is like wow really you think so because he still loves praise and people seeing how cool he is and it bugged him the tiniest bit that magneto walked by without saying anything when he broke him out of the pentagon btut he's glad that dusting and sweeping and mopping has impressed this guy so much

and magneto says something about how he's greater than he knows and that his gift is something that no one else possesses or something like that all peter knows is it's verging into territory he doesn't like and he keeps thinking about how much magneto hates humans and he keeps thinking about how his kid sister and mom are humans and he wonders if his dad hated his mom and thats why he left and he zooms upstairs to grab his walkman and put on his headphones before coming back downstairs while magneto's mid sentence to make him go away because peter was here first

magneto kind of blinks and goes blank and peter sort of welcomes it because magneto is frightening when he gets so into this whole mutant supremacy thing he has going on and peter is regretting asking him to come by at all before the guy stiltedly asks what he's listening to, which, like, what?

and peter finds out that magneto has never listened to like, a single band that wasn't playing on a radio he accidentally happened to be in the vicinity of and peter blinks and all of a sudden he's bugging a terrorist who hates humans to listen to his vinyls because he's somehow convinced himself in a moment of hysteria or delusion or psychosis that if he woos magneto with human music he'll decide that he doesn't want every human dead, just the bad ones and peter won't have to try and kill him or something and wow that's a lot to think about because peter doesn't think he'd ever murder someone but his dad murdered a lot of people or tried to and if they're blood related there must be some of that in him or something but thinking about that makes his chest twisty and he's only like eighteen or nineteen so he throws that worry aside but doesn't do too great of a job at it

because he's sitting in his room and they're both listening to queen and peter's mind can't stop going in circles and circles and circles and his mouth is open and he's asking magneto hey do you think you'd kill a human even if you loved them once before he can stop himself and magneto's staring at him and peter's staring at the ceiling and his chest is this tight ball of frizzy hairs of anxiety or something gross that feels like a million pounds

and magneto very slowly says why do you ask before he continues like he's peter and he can't bear to be interrupted and says something or other about how no humans are trustworthy and peter can't shut his dumb mouth so he asks more directly if he's loved a human before

and now magneto's staring and not saying anything and peter's kind of hoping and kind of not hoping that this guy who he's spent the past few weeks bonding with over late nights and vinyls and breakfast-for-dinners will either put the pieces together or say no and prove peter right and peter will make sure he never knows that peter's kid sister and his mother even exist

but magneto surprises him and says he's loved someone once and it would be a lie for him to say he hasn't loved humans when they didn't know what he was and when people found out what he was there was always a problem and that's why humans are a problem

and peter wonders if finding out that someone was pretending to be something theyre not would make magneto as upset as it did humans because he thinks he's going to go insane if he keeps pretending he's not magneto's kid and he's still kind of hoping for magneto to be more outwardly evil about hating his mom and kid sister so peter can just mentally disown him and get this weight off his shoulders

and he keeps waiting and waiting and waiting and magneto doesn't say more and peter doesn't say more but now this thing is sitting in between the two of them and peter's given away more of the game than he wanted on the last day before magneto's supposed to leave because of his fully healed wounds—which he had many of

except when he goes back to down to breakfast the next day he finds a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee and magneto is sitting at the table reading the newspaper that charles somehow gets delivered here and when peter finishes his glass and has four more magneto tells peter to call him erik

so now it's peter charles hank and erik living here and peter waits and waits and erik doesn't leave and they don't talk but he doesn't leave and peter is still waiting for erik to leave when charles wheels in a few days later and says they're going to go look for students and when erik just hums and says he'll come with peter stares and charles stares and hank stares and no one says anything

and then the days pass and they get a longer and longer list of students and peter's run out of places to clean and erik is still here and they don't talk about it but they listen to vinyls and erik is still here

erik is still here and peter is still here and nothing is really fixed but nothing is broken either and peter is content to sit in this space of being and not being until he's sure that there's more erik in magneto than there is magneto

and erik is still here. and peter is glad. secretly

[sweetprfct]

The Hate Formula

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Living in the same building, across from each other shouldn't be much of a problem, right? But how come you and Joe tend to always push each other's buttons every day? Is it because you both truly just hated each other or is it because there was something more to it?

Author's Note: I'm not home for a while and will be super busy, so I apologize if this seems a little rush! I want to upload this chapter at least for you guys.

Disclaimer: 18+, smut

Wordcount: 3.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

You walked down the bustling streets of New York, gazing up and saw the small raindrops already starting to fall from the gray skies that covered the city. You had a long day at work, but you were glad it was Friday. You have been so stressed at work because everything just kept hitting the fan, and you have been coming home with a headache almost everyday. You needed a break from your work environment. You couldn't seem to organize your thoughts lately. 

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, interrupting your thoughts and saw Sara’s caller ID. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, where are you? Wes and I are on the way to the restaurant.” Sara said on the other side of the line.

“I just got off work. I’m on my way to take the subway right now.” You looked both sides before crossing the street. “I’ll meet you guys there as soon as I can. I just want to go home first and change.”

“Okay,” Sara replied. “Just be careful and let me know when you’re on your way here.”

“I will, thanks.”

Hanging up the phone, you sped walk down the stairs and immediately entered the subway before it closed its double doors. You sighed in relief, feeling lucky that you were just in time or else, you would have had to wait for the next subway. Pushing your way through the crowd, you murmured your excuse-mes and sat on one of the empty seats. 

You had promised Sara and Wes that you would join the two of them—including Joe— for dinner after work on a Friday night. Sara had noticed the change between you and Joe lately. Less arguments in the hall and less angry eyes that you two would give each other. 

If only she knew.

You still haven’t told her what was going on between you and Joe, and you sort of still were hesitating on it because you still haven’t gotten your answer. Besides, you and Joe weren't doing anything else but sex. 

Why should you overthink this, right?

When the subway had finally stopped, you exited out of it and paused in your tracks the moment you saw who was waiting for you at the station.

“Joe?” You called out. 

He turned around and a grin immediately appeared on his face. You weren't going to lie, you were starting to believe his words sometimes. Joe hasn’t been seeing anyone else but you these past few weeks, and you wondered if he has changed. You wondered if this thing between the both of you were something… exclusive. 

Did Joe think you two were exclusive?

“Hey,” He greeted you happily.

“Wh…What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with Sara and Wes at the restaurant?” 

“Thought I could wait for you and we could go together.” Joe explained, his fingers intertwined with yours. 

You smirked at his small smooth move as you slipped your hand away from his. There was no way he was getting away with this.

“What?” Joe asked, his brows furrowing as he followed you out the station.

“You don’t get to hold my hand.” You stated, looking over your shoulder. 

You could see the hurt in Joe’s face as he continued to follow you down the sidewalk. He gently touched your forearm, making you stop in your tracks. You knew exactly what he was doing.

“This between us…” You gestured your hand between the both of you. “This is nothing but just sex, remember?”

Biting his lower lip, Joe continued to follow you all the way towards the apartment building. You could feel his eyes burning through the side of your head as he kept glancing at you. Taking your keys out of your pocket, you slid it in the doorknob and the moment you entered your apartment, Joe gently slid his hands in yours and turned you around. You gasped softly as you looked deep into his eyes and he cupped your cheek gently with his hand. 

“How much time do we have?” He whispered. 

Holding in your breath, you bit your lower lip as you held in your smile. 

“Why?” You asked, breathlessly.

Joe’s chocolate button eyes studied you, his fingers brushing your hair away from your shoulder. 

“Because if we do…” He leaned in, kissing the line of your jaw. 

You gasped softly, your hands sliding on his shoulders and gripping them gently. 

“I think Sara and Wes can wait a few more minutes.” You whispered, enjoying the feel of his tongue on your skin.

Joe let out a soft hum, his lips trailing down your neck. You bit your lower lip softly, your hand curling on the back of his head. Joe gently pushed you against the wall in the middle of the hall, sliding his hand under your thigh and hooking it on his hip. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you all day.” Joe whispered, making you smile as he cupped your face between his hands. 

Joe kissed you softly, his lips moving with yours like he had tasted something so sweet. He moaned softly as you smiled through the kiss, slipping your tongue inside his mouth. Both of your tongues played together as Joe slipped his hand under your skirt, rubbing your wet folds through your underwear. 

“Wet for me already?” Joe smirked, pulling away from the kiss. 

“Shut up.” You murmured, feeling your cheeks flushed. 

“I love that I make you feel this way.” He lifted you up in his arms, pinning you against the wall and both of your legs wrapping around his waist. 

Fumbling with his belt, Joe found your lips again as you moaned softly and unbuttoned his pants. Joe’s fingers pushed aside your underwear before slipping his member in, both of you gasping loudly. Closing your eyes, Joe kissed and sucked your neck, thrusting inside of you. Your fingers gripping his shoulder, you threw your head against the wall as Joe thrusted deeper. You could feel every bone in your body trembling and starving for him as he trailed kisses down your neck. 

Another moan slipped out of your lips as Joe thrusted faster and deeper inside of you. He couldn’t help but groan and let out a breathless gasp as your walls tightened around him, pleasure pooling in your stomach. 

“Come for me, love.” Joe whispered, looking deep into your eyes. 

You closed your eyes immediately as you moaned his name and gripped his shoulders tighter. Your toes curled, your legs trembling as Joe continued to pound inside of you. With a quick few more thrusts, pleasure crashed over the both of you, Joe burying his face in your neck to stifle his moans. Panting softly, Joe gently set you back on your feet, his arm never leaving your waist, so he was balancing you. 

“We made a mess.” You chuckled softly, pressing your forehead against his. “You made a mess of me.”

“It’s okay.” Joe kissed you softly. “You have no idea how much of a mess you have made of me.”

“I have to clean up before we go.” You slipped away from his arms. 

“Let me help.” Joe smiled. 

Raising your brow at him, you gave him a small smile as he followed you over to the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, Joe grabbed a soft hand towel, letting the water run over it before ringing the excess water. You watched as Joe gazed down at you with a grin on his face before he lowered himself down and pulled your underwear down to your ankles and gently wiped you off. 

You didn’t know what it was, but Joe doing all of this for you, you didn’t know how much harder your heart could pound inside your chest. He left a soft kiss inside your thigh before smiling and getting up from the floor. Your eyes stared at him, your eyes full of tenderness as he leaned forward and kissed you softly. 

“Let me change, hm?” You pulled away from the kiss. “Then, we’ll go.”

Joe nodded his head, letting you go from his arms. He watched as you slipped your clothes off and changed into a nice blue dress. You could feel his eyes on you as he slowly walked up behind you, zipping the back of your dress before kissing your shoulder softly. 

“Gorgeous.” He smiled. 

“Ready?” You asked, turning around and fixing Joe’s shirt. 

Joe tried to hold your hand again as you walked over to the restaurant but just because you two had a small quickie at your apartment, it didn’t mean he had a permission. You were still sticking with your decision about the fact that he couldn't be touching you like this unless he had admitted what was going on between the both of you. 

You were just glad that the walk from the apartment and towards the restaurant was a short quick walk because by the time you both arrived, Sara and Wes were already on the table, waiting for the both of you. You and Joe exchanged smiles as you both sat across Wes and Sara. 

“Hey, sorry.” You smiled slightly. 

“Where were you guys?” Wes asked. 

“I…um…” Joe cleared his throat. “I got caught up at work because of the rain and by the time I arrived back at the apartment, we saw each other, and I decided to just wait for her to finish changing and just go together.”

You shifted your eyes at Sara as she gave you a look that indicated if Joe was telling the truth. You gave her a small smile before pulling up the menu in front of you to hide your face. You saw for a moment as Wes gave Joe the same look before Joe pulled up the menu in front of him too. 

“So, what’s delicious?” Joe asked, his eyes studying the menu.

Sara slightly knitted her brows and she watched the three of you interact. She had been trying to figure out the atmosphere between you and Joe and how it suddenly shifted. She kept wondering why and when all of this happened. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was because the last time you two talked, you and Joe had argued at Central Park. Though even if you two had made up, she still couldn’t believe she hasn’t heard any commotion in the hall lately. Not that she was complaining.

“So, how’s work?” Sara asked you that night as you ate your salad. 

You sighed, shaking your head. “Stressful. I’m tired of it. I need a vacation.”

“Why don’t you take one?” 

Joe tilted his head at you, curious as to why you were stressed. You both didn’t really talk about anything besides the constant sex lately and if you did, it wasn’t really anything personal. 

“Why are you stressed?” Joe asked.

You turned your head towards him and saw the worry lines that appeared on his face. You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell from the way he was looking at you. It was an affectionate and caring look that you have never seen before. 

“Um… Just a lot of things going on.” You replied, turning your attention back to Sara. “You know, just busy and a lot of things on my plate.”

Feeling Joe’s hand on yours under the table, he squeezed it lightly as you gave him a small smile and slipped it away from his touch. You kept trying to push away the sudden privileges that Joe kept throwing at you. He was making moves like he was your boyfriend. You weren’t about to just let him get away with that. 

The rest of the dinner was normal. All four of you catching up and telling stories about each other that made you all laugh. Some stories that would make your cheeks flush and have to give Sara a look to not continue because it was an embarrassing story, which made her giggle softly. 

“Do you guys want to go to the bar? It’s just about two blocks away.” Wes asked you all later that night. 

Slipping in your jacket, you could feel the summer New York air starting to cool down. The rain finally stopped and the soft breeze flowed through your hair. The city lights flickered around the four of you as you all exited out of the restaurant. 

“You know what, mate. I had a long day. I think I might just go home and rest.” Joe stated. 

You turned to Sara and said, “Me too. I still have paperworks to finish.”

“Are you sure?” Wes asked. 

Sara took your hand in hers and pulled you aside for a moment. You could see the wonderment in her eyes, and you hated how you kept lying to her. You have to tell her soon. You couldn’t keep doing this anymore. 

“Is there something going on?” Sara asked. 

“What?” You shook your head. “No, no.”

Sara blinked her eyes a few times, waiting for you to give her a real answer. 

“Everything’s fine. I promise.” You reassured her. 

“Okay but please, let me know if there's anything wrong.” You nodded your head as Sara smiled, rubbing your arm softly as the both of you walked back towards the two men. 

“Walk home safe, you two.” Wes smiled, squeezing Joe’s shoulder before taking Sara’s hand in his and walked towards the opposite direction. 

Coming back to the apartment, Joe gently slid his hand in yours and you immediately tried to slip your hand away. Joe, however, was quick to squeeze your hand softly and didn’t let you go.

“Wait,” Joe murmured as you both stopped in the middle of the hall. “How come you never told me you were stressed at work?”

“There wasn’t a time where it could be brought up.” You shrugged.

“You could talk to me, you know.” Joe grazed his fingers on your cheek softly, his brown doe eyed eyes looking at you like you were the only woman in the world for him. 

You blinked a few times, smiling softly before pulling him close to you and kissed him passionately on the lips. Joe’s arm wrapped around your waist as he pressed his body against yours, kissing you deeply. 

Parting from the kiss, you unlocked your front door and pulled him in, both of your grabby hands tugging on both of your clothes. You both stumbled through the hall and into your bedroom, Joe laying you gently on your bed and towering over you. His lips trailed down your neck, kissing and sucking the skin. 

“I love sneaking out with you.” You giggled happily.

Joe let out a soft moan, his lips kissing your chest. “I love this dress on you.”

His fingers slipped behind you, zipping it down and tugging on the straps as it fell off your shoulders. He kissed the blade of your shoulder before pressing his face on your neck, breathing you in. 

“I love this shirt on you but it needs to come off.” You let out a soft chuckle, pulling the shirt over his head and throwing it on the floor. 

Joe kissed you deeply on the lips as he murmured, “I love you.”

For a moment, both of you froze as you bit your lower lip. Your mind was running a thousand thoughts. You heard what he said. You weren’t dreaming, right?

He said it.

Those three little words. 

Your whole body was paralyzed, your heart pounding in your chest, and you didn’t know what to say. You felt the air shifted between the both of you, and you didn’t really know how to react or to reply because what the fuck you were supposed to say? 

First, this thing between the both of you was just sex for the last few weeks and now, Joe had literally jumped over the line and said something that made this whole situation ten times more complicated. Swallowing all the emotions that were coming up in your throat, you slowly gazed up at him. His chocolate button eyes staring deep into yours, affection and love flooding his whole expression.

You were so fucked.

“We… We should make this fast before Sara comes back home.” You murmured. 

Nodding his head, Joe kissed you deeply again and pulled down your dress, his lips trailing down your breasts and sucking on your nipples as you moaned softly. As Joe continued to show how every bone of his body was trembling for you, you could feel your hands shake as he slipped himself inside of you and thrusted deeply.

Those three little words still echoing in your brain as you closed your eyes and buried your face on his neck, his hard cock hitting you on the right spot. You kept pushing your overthinking thoughts away as you flipped both of you over and rode him faster, his fingers digging deep into your hips as it rolled with his.

“Fuck.” Joe groaned softly, his eyes closing.

You continued to ride him, leaning down to kiss him hungrily until both of your moans were echoing through the four walls of your bedroom. Panting heavily, Joe sucked on your breasts, your hands holding tight on your headboard.

“Holy shit.” Joe cursed under his breath. “You’re so tight, love.”

You bounced on his cock faster as you felt him deeper inside of you. You muffled your screams as you bit his bare shoulder, your whole body trembling when both of you finally let go of your orgasms at the same time. You collapsed on Joe’s chest, breathing heavily, while his fingers brushed the strands of your hair that were sticking on your sweaty forehead before dropping a soft kiss on it. 

You closed your eyes, pressing your face on his neck as he wrapped his arms around you. Your mind kept wondering if he blurted those three little words because he was in the moment, or he actually meant it. You tried to push the thought away, but how could you? 

He said I love you to you. 

How were you supposed to just let that go? 

“How come you decided to live here in New York instead of London?” You asked him later that night, hoping it would distract you from your thoughts. 

Joe caressed your arm softly as you laid your head on his chest. 

“Figured it's easier for my career if I lived in the States. Not that it wasn’t easy back in London. It’s just more opportunities.” Joe replied, his voice was soft and low. 

It was almost soothing. 

“How about you? Why New York?” He asked, glancing down at you. 

You shrugged your shoulders and gazed up at him. “It’s mine and Sara’s dream.” 

Joe smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His soft touches kept sending shivers down your spine, and you didn’t know how you could take anymore of this. You didn’t know how long you could pretend that maybe—just maybe—you also felt the same. 

That maybe you did love him too. 

“You two are two peas in a pod, aren’t you?” Joe chuckled softly. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what I’d do without her.” You exhaled a sharp breath. “She’s the one person I can trust and rely on so much.”

Joe slightly sat up, leaning his back against your headboard. He cupped your cheek with his hand as you gave him a small smile. You couldn't help but feel safe in his arms by just the way he was looking at you, and you couldn't explain why. You just wanted him to stay here next to you forever.

“Is this… making you struggle?” Joe asked.

“No,” You shook your head. “I will tell her… soon. I.. I know I can’t keep lying to her.”

“I understand.” Joe gave you a reassuring smile, his fingers stroking your hair softly.

“Can you stay here tonight, please?”

Joe smiled, nodding his head as he laid back down and pulled you close next to him and wrapped his arms around you. 

“Of course, love.” Joe murmured, dropping a soft kiss on your hair. “About earlier… when I said you can talk to me about anything, I meant it.”

His soft voice was making you sleepy as you tried to fight your eyelids from closing. 

“I know.” You pressed your face on his neck. “Work is just… work.”

“What happened?” Joe softly caressed your arm as you closed your eyes.

Sighing, you said, “Just a lot of work and no one is really helping me.”

“I’m so sorry, love. Maybe Sara’s right. You need a vaca—” Joe glanced down at you, finding you slowly falling asleep in his arms.

Smiling happily, he stroked your hair softly before kissing your temple. He pulled you close in his arms as you hummed softly in your sleep, a small smile tugged on your lips.

Tonight, you got to be in his safe, warm arms and somehow, that was enough for now. 

********

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @munsonluvrr @ali-r3n @quinnyficsy @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot @josephquinnsfreckles @readergf @mvnsonlover @mdurdenpitt @siriuslysmoking @blueleonor @bejeweled13swiftie

[99hook]

crossed hearts

synopsis: two strangers make a drunken promise in the heat of the moment

A/N: sorry for taking a million years to post a fic. i know y’all have been asking and i’ve been putting it off for weeks soooo i took a few whole business days to conjure this up for y’all and i hope you loveee it!! enjoy babes!!

18+ only

You were quite content as you sat on the edge of the pool, legs submerged beneath the cool water and your face towards the sun, soaking up the last bit of the end of summer heat.

You had your airpods in to drown out the loud chatter and occasional children screaming when their parents tossed them in the deep end. You couldn’t help but laugh when a little boy, who had been thrown in the pool at least ten times, kept running back over to where his parents were sitting just to beg his dad to throw him in again.

You were about to watch him get launched from the diving board for the umpteenth time, but that’s when something else just so happened to catch your attention.

You felt something hit your back and turned around to find a foam football that a group of guys had been tossing around a little ways away.

You grabbed the football before it rolled off the edge of the pool and looked up at the man who came jogging after it.

“Shit, sorry about that. My friend’s got bad aim.” He chuckled as he extended his hands. You tossed the ball back to him and glanced over at the other three guys exchanging not so discreet laughs as they watched on.

You pulled one airpod out of your ear and looked back up at him, offering a simple smile as you said, “It’s alright, just tell him he might not need to pursue a football career anytime soon.”

He dropped his head and laughed, and you took immediate notice of the dimples that decorated his cheeks when his smile widens. His eyes were hidden by a pair of shades but if you could see them, you’d imagine he’d have a couple crinkles by them when he laughs that hard.

He glanced over his shoulder and the boys who were waiting for him. Their laughter had died down and now they were standing around with confused looks on their faces, probably wondering why that man hadn’t returned yet.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing he’s a pro wrestler then.” He shrugs his shoulder as he looks back down at you, keeping that dimple fledged smile on his face. “We all are, actually.”

“Pro wrestler? That sounds like an exciting career.” You say as you take a sip from your margarita that was starting to go down a little too smooth. “I’d love to make a living beating people’s ass.”

He chuckled again, tossing the football between his hands as he started stepping side to side.

“I mean, yeah, it’s pretty cool. That’s why we’re here right now. Got a show tonight, and uh, yeah.” He says as he adverts his eyes down to your margarita you placed next to you.

You glanced back over at the group of guys now with all their arms crossed over their chests, talking amongst themselves as they impatiently waited their friend to get back.

“Well I think your friends are getting tired of waiting.” you point over to the guys, and he looks back over his shoulder at them. “So don’t let me keep you distracted.” you joked, watching as another dimple fledged smile formed on his face.

“Alright, well, i’ll see you, uh-?”

“Y/N. You?”

“Tyler” he grins as he takes a few steps back before he turns around and jogs back over to the other guys.

You turned back around and put the airpod back in your ear as you took the last few sips from your glass, only then realizing that it was empty, and obviously you needed to head over to the swim-up bar for another one.

You lowered yourself off the edge, feeling the coolness of the water against your heated skin, refreshingly so. You kept your glass above the surface as you made your way towards the bar, unknowingly being watched by that same boy until his friends called him out on it.

“Dude, you talked to her for like, five minutes.” Darius says as he catches the football Tyler tossed to his chest. “Should’ve just asked for her number instead of staring at her like a creep.”

“I’m not even looking at her.” Tyler lies as he barely catches the ball when his friend passes it back. “I was looking at the water. It’s hot, i’m bout to jump in.”

Action and Anthony exchanged looks before they started passing the ball between each other, excluding Tyler as he pulled his shirt and sunglasses off and tossed them down on the chair.

Darius looked back over, finding you just as you took your place with a full glass you started sipping on. You could practically feel eyes burning into you, but you did your best not to acknowledge that. It was making you feel a little nervous, but thankfully the liquor in your frosty drink was strong enough to mask that.

A couple seconds passed by before you heard an enormous splash and you got covered in the drops of water from the impact.

You watched to see who was resurfacing, and couldn’t say you were surprised to see that it was Tyler.

“Hey again.” you called out to him.

“Hey.” he grinned, finding his footing when he got to the shallow side and standing up, exposing Sculpted, sharp abs and a couple more tattoos.

You had to keep yourself from letting your eyes wander, but it was hard to do. He ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head slightly until he was satisfied with how the slick locks landed against his forehead. He then made his way towards you and lifted himself up to sit on the edge, leaving a little distance between you.

“Done throwing the ball?” you asked, feeling the need to take another sip from your glass as the nerves started to become a little too unavoidable.

You couldn’t help it, he was strikingly handsome and now that he didn’t have those shades covering his eyes, you got to see the rich, deep shade of them and, well, brown eyes have always been a weakness for you.

“I am.” he says as he sways one leg beneath the water. “It got hot, needed to cool down.”

“Yeah. That’s why I have this.” You tipped your glass before you took another sip, watching as an eased smirk slipped across his lips as he looked back at you.

“I might get something when I get back tonight. Probably not a margarita, but something with some alcohol in it.” he says before he looks down at the water.

“When are you getting back?” you asked, unsure why you did in the first place. It felt weird right after you said it but before you could cringe about it, he was already answering.

“Probably around midnight.” he says, “Maybe a little later, I never really know. Kind of wanted to go somewhere and see what this city is all about before I have to leave again.”

“Well what would you wanna do? I know this place pretty well. I can tell you if something’s worth it or not, so you don’t waste the little time you have.”

“I don’t know, maybe a club or something? But, then again, I might just come back here and chill for the night. I’m probably gonna be tired anyway.” He shrugs as he keeps his eyes from roaming over to you, out of sheer nervousness he was starting to feel simply because your attention was solely on him, and for some reason, it flustered him.

“Well if you do decide to go out, there’s a couple places not far from here that-“

“Yo, Tyler, we gotta head out man!” You were cut off by one of the guys calling out to him from a little ways away, and when you glanced over your shoulder, you saw the three of them approaching, all with weird smirks on their faces.

One of the guys stepped forward, flashing a bright smile down at you. “Hey, sorry about hitting you with the football earlier. And for the record, I’m not planning on joining the NFL anytime soon.”

You looked over at Tyler who was trying to keep the smirk off of his lips, but failing miserably. Then you looked back up at the guy, a little at a loss for words because you didn’t actually expect Tyler to tell him you said that.

“But for real, sorry about that.” He says with a wide grin. “I’m Action, also.” He extends his hand, expecting you to shake it, which wasn’t typically something people around your age, as you assumed he was, tended to do anymore.

You reached up and took his hand, and he gently shook it before another guy decided to introduce himself. The one who seemed to keep a weird grin plastered across his face.

“I’m Anthony.” He gave you a little wave. That only led you to expect the last man to follow the others up, so you glanced over at him, but he kept his eyes on Tyler.

“Darius.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off the man next to you.

“Nice to meet y’all.” You offered a smile, “I’m Y/N.”

“Yeah, we-“ but before Anthony could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by Darius nudging his ribs with his elbow. The two of them exchanged rather tense glances before you felt the energy between everyone suddenly shift into some weird, awkward tension.

“Uh- are you coming to the show tonight?” Anthony asked instead, glancing between you and Tyler.

“No, I actually didn’t know there was anything happening tonight. I didn’t know you were all pro wrestlers until he told me.” You point over at Tyler, who is finding it hard to sit there silently.

“Oh, so you don’t know who he is?” Anthony asks, looking a bit taken back. You looked over at Tyler and back up at his friend.

“You’ve never heard of Hook before?” He adds on, but that’s when Tyler looks over his shoulder and pipes up.

“She just said she didn’t know who we were.” He couldn’t help the aggravated tone, simply because he could see what his friends were doing and he didn’t care for it too much.

Darius placed his hand firmly on Anthony’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze, which was a silent gesture to tell him to stop talking.

That’s when Tyler looked back at you, and you caught his softened eyes for a split second before he sent you a small nod and lifted himself up out of the water completely.

“Nice meeting you, Y/N.” Anthony beams, offering you a wave, as well as the other two guys who nod toward you as they all group up and head towards the hotel.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” You heard Tyler say as he heads back over to where they were previously tossing the ball. He grabs his shirt and tosses it over his shoulder, then slides those shades back over his eyes and waits for the guys to fully disappear inside before he makes his way back over to you.

“Sorry about them.” He mutters as he sits back down next to you, submerging his legs back in the water.

“It’s alright, they seem nice.” You shrug as you start to sway your legs.

“Sometimes.” He smirks as he runs his hand back through his hair, flinging droplets of water across your cheek. “But uh, I don’t know if you’re gonna be here later or not-“

“Yeah, for the next two days.” You didn’t mean to answer that so abruptly, but the margaritas and this man’s unusual charm had to be to blame for that. You felt your cheeks heat up when he looked over at you, sliding his tongue over his lips once before he nods.

“Me too.”

“Maybe I’ll see you later then.” You shrugged, feeling that unavoidable feeling brewing in your stomach, similar to what people say they feel when they have butterflies, but until then, you’d never experienced that before.

“Yeah, maybe.” He smirks as he pulls his legs out the water and rises back to his feet.

“Have fun beating people’s asses.” You grin before you take the last sip of yet another margarita, and he simply smiles back before he drops his head and makes his way towards the doors, leaving you sitting on the edge of the pool wishing he was still right there next to you.

———

Somewhere in the midst of a few more margaritas and somehow managing to recognize your hotel room, you ended up taking a pretty long nap.

You woke up around one in the morning, quite literally starving to death. You grabbed the laminated menu sitting on the bedside table and scanned your options, until you realized that room service was no longer available after midnight.

Letting out a groan that sounded similar to your stomach growling, you got up from the comfort of the plush bedsheets and slipped on your shoes. Taking a glance in the mirror was a little unnecessary at the moment. You should’ve known you were going to look a hot mess after how hard you crashed.

You took a second to wipe the smudges of mascara below your eyes and comb your fingers through your disheveled hair before you headed out the door, towards the elevator.

Thankfully your intoxication wore off at least eighty percent, so you were no longer wobbly on your feet, but you were still feeling a little buzzed and blamed that on the reason why you it took you a whole minute to figure out which elevator button takes you down to the main lobby.

You managed to get there without stopping on any other floor first, so you felt like that was an accomplishment. Your eyes landed on the doors that led to the cafeteria and you could smell the mixes of different foods the second you stepped out the elevator.

“I wonder why they can’t just bring this up to my room. Why do I have to come all the way down here and get it myself just because it’s late?” You mumbled under your breath, even though you meant to keep that thought in your mind. Another thing to blame on the alcohol.

You approached the buffet bar and immediately gravitated towards the pizza station. Two slices were plated and passed to you by one of the women behind the counter who didn’t appear all that thrilled to be serving food at one in the morning, but you could understand that.

You were just about to take your plate back up to your room, but decided last minute that you wanted to go outside and sit by the pool instead. With nobody being around that late at night, it sounded like a peaceful way to spend the next hour or so.

You kicked back in one of the lounge chairs after you finished eating, staring up at the stars that blanketed the sky, like diamonds dazzling above you. You searched for the brightest one of them all, as you always do, because when you were younger your grandma always told you that star belongs to you.

You found it a little over to the left, glimmering around the illuminated band of the moon and felt yourself smile. Maybe it was just another thing to blame on the alcohol you still had bits of running through your veins, but you couldn’t help but to grin from ear to ear from the simplicity of stargazing.

It was quiet compared to the daytime hustle and bustle of the city and the peaceful atmosphere was nice. You could’ve sat out there for hours on end happily enjoying your own company, but the silence was rather short lived when you heard the rowdiness of the group of guys from earlier right outside the gate.

You looked over and found the four boys stumbling around, laughing and making jokes amongst each other as they walked towards the hotel doors.

Your eyes zeroed in on Tyler specifically, who had a hood over his head but you recognized him by the his wild hair shoved underneath it. You wondered if they ended up going out to a club after all, seeing as how they all seemed to be a little drunk themselves.

You couldn’t help but to let out a quiet laugh, hoping you wouldn’t be heard, when one of the guys, you think you remember by the name Darius, says something that was apparently so hilarious it causes Tyler’s laugh to echo all around.

You looked back over towards the jacuzzi you’d been thinking about getting into for the last thirty or so minutes once the boys disappeared inside. Eventually, your temptations got the better of you and you found yourself sitting on the edge with your legs submerged in the hot, rolling water.

You stared down at the bubbles forming from the jets and the multicolored lights casting a rainbow glow on the surface, a little entranced by the ever-changing variations, so much so that you didn’t even hear the footsteps behind you.

“Hey” You heard a deep voice softly speak, but it startled you nonetheless. You jumped slightly when you looked over to find Tyler grinning at you, amusement in his hazy eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” He chuckles before he grabs a lounge chair and pulls it closer to you. He takes a seat and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and subconsciously twisting the ring wrapped around his finger.

“You’re fine.” You managed to chuckle back after the initial shock wore off. “Did you end up going to a club?” You decided to ask, but the answer seemed pretty obvious to you judging by the way he was giving himself away completely.

The hazy, low eyes and a relaxed, easy smirk to match. His cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue, he couldn’t keep his hands still. He’d definitely been drinking, but you were finding it funny how you didn’t even know this man and yet it was so obvious to tell the difference between him being sober and intoxicated.

“For a little while. Didn’t really care for it though.” He shrugs as he slides his ring up and down his finger. “What did you do tonight?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, as if he was genuinely interested.

You didn’t know why you were smiling all over again, but you were. It might’ve been the alcohol but you weren’t sure how many things you could truthfully blame on a couple too many margaritas you had hours ago.

“Well, I ended up going to my room and passing out for a couple hours, then I woke up, got some food and came out here to enjoy the peace and quiet.”

“Oh, am I disturbing your peace right now?” He half-smirks, exposing one dimple.

You felt your cheeks practically burning and the steam from the jacuzzi wasn’t making it any better. You shook your head and looked down at the ring he was now twirling around.

“I’m okay with it.” You shrugged easily, doing your best to not let it show that you were feeling a little nervous all over again. Just like previously when the two of you were sitting on the edge of the pool, you couldn’t help it. Something about him had the capability to make your stomach erupt with those butterfly feelings everyone always claims, and you weren’t sure if you really liked it or not, but at the moment, you couldn’t fight against it.

The ring he was fidgeting with stilled for a second before he looked down at the ground, clearly trying to hide that wide smile you would’ve rather been shown.

“What about you?” You asked as you leaned back on your palms, attempting to keep the steam from engulfing your already heated skin. He looked up then, his eyes a little droopy but you couldn’t help but to find it cute. “How’d the show go?”

He started sliding that ring on and off different fingers as he spoke. “Pretty good. I mean, my back is killing me but other than that, I think it went pretty good.” He chuckles.

“So you’re the one that got your ass beat?” you teased, watching as his lips spread in a wider smile that he quickly brought his fist up to cover.

“I mean, maybe a little, yeah.” He nods, his laugh once again echoing around you, and something about it just must have been contagious, because your couldn’t help but to laugh with him.

“Well, i’m sure you’ll get ‘em next time.” You say as you look back down at the changing lights glowing against the stones of the jacuzzi. It grew silent between the two of you for a couple seconds, but only until the liquid courage he was enduring kept him feeling bold enough to talk a little more.

“So why are you here?” He asks, remembering you telling him you would only be staying at the hotel for two days. You look over at him, and he feels the need to clarify the question that he feels may have came out wrong. “I mean like- you said you were only here for two days, so are you on vacation or-?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to get out of town, really. I was getting tired of the same old stuff. I had a few days off so I thought it would be fun to just go somewhere else and pretend like I live a luxurious life.” You joked, and felt your cheeks burning once more when you made him laugh again.

“I mean, this is a pretty luxurious hotel.” He shrugs as he leans up and stretches his arms out. “My room came stocked with all the alcohol you can drink.”

“Mine too, but the frozen margaritas are my kryptonite.” You say, wishing you had one you could be sipping on just to calm to rushing nerves coursing heavily through you.

“I noticed.” He smirks, holding your stare for a few seconds longer before you were the one to have to break it first.

Just then, his phone rang in his pocket, and he took a minute to retrieve it before he answered. You could hear the deep voice of one of the guys you met earlier but you couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Yeah, yeah. Alright. Uh, nah i’m just gonna chill out here for a while I think. Alright bro, bye.”

He slid the phone back in his pocket and you were trying a little too hard to hide the velvet tinge across your cheeks at the fact that he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

“Anthony.” He mutters as he shakes his head. “They’re tryna get me to come up and drink a bottle with them.”

“You don’t want to?” You asked, watching as he shrugged his shoulder and slightly shook his head.

“Nah, not really. Not up there, at least.” He then slips his arm through the strap of his backpack and pulls the bag around to his lap, unzipping it and pulling out a bottle with a grin.

“It’s not a frozen margarita, but if you want some you’re welcome to it.” He twists the cap off the bottle and takes a few sips before he extends it out to you.

You thought about it for a second, but not for very long before you grabbed it and held it out to see it better.

“Peach Crown?” You asked, “Never had it before.”

“It’s good.” he says as pulls his chair a tad bit closer.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You say before you take your first sip, followed by a couple more when you realized how smooth it went down.

You passed the bottle back to him and noticed the expectant look on his face. It was as if he was waiting to say he told you so.

“okay. yeah, It’s pretty good.” You admit. You feel his fingers brush over yours for a fraction of a second as he grabs the bottle from your hand and you were unsure why that slight and simple touch sent shivers cascading down your spine.

“I’m not even a big fan of sweet drinks but I tried this at the club and had to get a bottle.” He says before he takes a couple more sips and passes it back.

You grabbed the bottle again and tasted a hint of mint when you took your next sip, but the whisky washed it away before it got the chance linger against your tongue.

You heard him rummaging around in his bag again, this time pulling out a cream colored box and a lighter with some bold print across the side of it. He pulls a Black n Mild out of the box and places the plastic mouthpiece between his lips before he sparks the lighter and cups his hand around the flame.

His brows furrow as he lights the end of the cigar and inhales his first draw, exhaling a cloud of thick, gray smoke that has a slightly sweet tinge when it lingers around you.

“Wanna hit this?” He asks as you pass him the bottle back, and you had to admit you were a little bit tempted, but you declined for the simple fact that nicotine used to have a vice grip on you in college and the last thing you wanted was to spark an old flame that you probably won’t be able to burn out a second time.

You watched as he took one more rather large gulp and placed the bottle down between the two of you, and took a couple more hits from the cigar, blowing O’s above his head that stretched out the higher they got, until they completely faded away.

“My dad used to always do that.” You admitted all too easily for some weird reason, immediately shutting down the second the words slipped from your lips, because you never talked about that man to anyone.

“Mine still does.” He says as he stares up and watches the rings eventually fade into the darkness. Then he caught what you said fully and looked down at you.

“Oh, wait” he says as he attempts to read the look on your face. “What happened? He stopped smoking or something?”

You shook your head but shrugged your shoulder afterwards. “No, i’m pretty sure he still does. I just don’t see him anymore. But I remember when I was younger we’d sit out on the porch and he’d always blow those smoke rings.” You managed to chuckle even though speaking about the man in general made you want to completely close down.

Tyler stared at you for a few seconds, tapping his finger against the end of the cigar to ash it as he processed what you just said, and quite frankly, he was unsure what to say back.

You were quick to push the entire topic to the back burner as you grabbed the bottle sitting an arm length away and brought it back to your lips, this time tasting the pungent tobacco mixed with the sweet liquor. You set the bottle back down, pushing it a little closer his way and glanced up at him when you heard him speak again.

“How come you don’t see him anymore?” he asked, his voice a little softer spoken than it previously was.

You look down at the bottle, feeling like you’d need a couple more sips before you can even think about having a conversation pertaining to that, but you resist the urge to grab it again.

“A lot of reasons.” You shrug your shoulder, keeping your eyes on the amber liquid. “Mainly him just not wanting anything to do with any of the kids he has.” You chuckle coldly, shaking your head. “But it’s fine, cause in all reality, it’s for the best. All he’s ever done is hurt me so i’ve pretty much accepted the fact that I just don’t need to allow him in my life.”

You felt the weird feeling of a heavy weight being lifted off of you, as if there was a constant pressure weighing down on you but you never noticed it until it miraculously vanished.

Tyler let your words resonate with him for a minute, and even though he was pretty drunk, he still managed to comprehend everything you said. He couldn’t deny that it sounded sad to him, and he could see that talking about it visibly brought a deep pain to the surface for you, and he didn’t want to bring you down by making you tell him about something that clearly hurt you.

Truthfully, he was just curious about you. He didn’t know why, but right from the start earlier that day when he had that first initial run in with you, something about you instantly intrigued him, and it was beyond the range of just your physical appearance, even though he couldn’t deny that he was immediately attracted to you the second he got a good look at you for the first time.

Still, there was something else about you that he felt compelled to dive deeper into. He thought about you a couple different times after he left the pool. Once before his match as he was getting his wrists taped up. Once after his match when he was scanning the sea of faces in the crowd. Twice at the club when he remembered you getting interrupted in the middle of telling him where some good places to go were. And once more when he and the guys made it back to the hotel and he couldn’t help but wonder if, by some unlikely chance, you’d be sitting where he left you hours prior.

“I’m sorry that things have to be that way, but I understand it. I’ve had to cut off people I care about for my own wellbeing too. It sucks to have to do that, but sometimes it’s the best thing you can do for yourself.”

You found yourself a little taken back that he wasn’t saying the things it seemed like everyone else ever did. How you should let the past go and give your dad another chance. Your father is always your father no matter what. Don’t hold a grudge forever, etc.

You simply nodded because you weren’t sure what else you could really say, but you could see that there was a mutual understanding and it made you a lot less regretful about opening up to someone you barely knew.

“What about your mom?” He asks, and really it was more of him blurting that out, but he couldn’t help it because genuinely, he was just curious about what made you, you.

“I love my mom.” You found yourself smiling without realizing it, and the way your eyes lit up brought a slight smile to his face, too.

“She’s honestly the strongest woman i’ve ever known. She went through a lot with my dad. Raised three kids all on her own and always made a way no matter how impossible it seemed. I admire her, honestly.”

You looked back up at the stars, finding yourself wondering what your mom might be up to, and making a mental note to call her in the morning.

“What about your parents?” You asked him after a moment. “What are they like?”

You looked back over at him, catching his soft gaze before he adverts his eyes to the rolling water you just pulled your legs out of.

“They’re my role models, honestly.” He grins as he keeps his sights set on the changing lights. “My mom is just, all around an amazing woman. My dad is probably the best friend i’ve ever had. Im really thankful to have the parents I got.”

He feels the slightest sting when he says that, knowing that you evidently didn’t have what he has, but when he looks back at you, all he sees is a soft smile gracing your lips.

“That’s amazing.” You softly spoke, and he simply nods back before he takes another draw from the black n mild.

“Do you have any siblings?” You decided to ask, thinking about your brother and sister that happened to come to mind.

“Nah, it’s just me, actually. I’ve always wanted some though. Always wanted a little brother cause I just thought it would be cool, but my parents never had another one.” He shrugs. “What about you?”

“I have a little sister, a little brother, and apparently a couple more siblings i’ve never met.” You chuckle as you shake your head. “But my brother and my sister are the ones I grew up with. I was always the oldest so, I don’t know, I guess that’s why I have such a strong bond with them. My dad has more kids with other women, but like I said, i’ve never met them. I’d like to, but I probably never will.”

Tyler nodded along as he listened, his eyes trained on the concrete underneath his feet.

“Wow” you shake your head, “That drink must have some truth serum in it or something. I never really talk about stuff like this.” You managed to laugh it off, but you were a little surprised at yourself for opening up to this man so effortlessly when it usually took you a minimum of a few years to tell anyone anything deeply personal about you.

“I don’t either.” You heard him say.

He then reached down and grabbed the bottle, holding it as he stood up and took a couple steps towards you. he sat down next to you, stretching out one of his legs and bending the other at the knee as he leaned back on one hand, and sipped the bottle with the other one.

His shoulder brushed yours and you couldn’t help but to feel those nerves wracking around inside all over again, but you tried to mask that with another gulp of that liquid poison when he handed it over to you.

By this point the two of you had finished half of that bottle and needless to say, you were feeling the effects more than you might’ve realized at first.

You looked over at him as you passed the bottle back, taking notice of his defined jaw that looked like it could slice through anything that comes in contact with it.

He was about to take another sip before he caught you staring, turning to face you with even droopier eyes and that same, relaxed half-smirk.

“What are you thinking about right now?” He caught you off guard when he asked you that, and truthfully you didn’t have very many thoughts running through your mind for once. You were too distracted by his features to really process anything else, but of course you weren’t about to tell him that.

He placed the cigar between his lips and squinted one eye when the smoke sifted near it, inhaling another smoke filled draw into his lungs before he turned his head away to exhale it all. Then he looked back at you, waiting for your answer with a slight gleam in his low eyes.

“I’m not really thinking about anything, surprisingly.” You tell him, catching the exact moment that his eyes linger to your lips and he involuntarily slides his tongue over his own. You felt a trillion little fires blazing beneath your cheeks, a bit of an excited feeling spouting through you, mixed with sudden and complete nervousness all at the same time.

This time, you couldn’t blame it on the liquor. You may be drunkenly consumed by the remnants of the margarita and the fresh course of the peach crown, but everything you were feeling so intensely had nothing to do with any of that. It was all him, and the way your heart skipped two beats when he looked into your eyes again, only solidified that.

“What are you thinking right now?” You asked him, voice a bit shaky but you hoped he didn’t notice.

He tilted his head to the side slightly before you heard the bottle being placed down next to him. His eyes flashed to your lips once again before they roamed back up to match your suddenly wanting gaze, and that’s when he turned his head and put the cigar out against the concrete, before he turned back to face you.

“I’d rather show you.” His voice was suddenly raspier and it could’ve been the harsh tobacco and the liquor, but something made you think it was a little more than just that.

You felt your heart on the verge of imploding in your chest, thumping rapidly against your rib cage, so much so that you could only hear the pulsations pounding in your ears.

But the second he leaned a little closer, and you met him halfway, your lips collided all too easily and suddenly, all of the rapid beatings from your racing pulse were instantly washed away.

You melted beneath his touch the second his lips landed on yours. His hand, calloused and edged, was somehow so gentle against your cheek as his thumb slowly stroked over your skin. The taste of the liquor you’d both been drinking, mixed with the tart tobacco and still just the faintest hint of mint, embedded in your tongue when your lips parted and allowed him in.

The slightest moan you didn’t realize you let out made him smile against you, and the second you felt his lips slipping away, you chased his kiss like you needed it to survive.

It was a game of push and pull, but the two of you couldn’t seem to let your lips detach for even a fraction of a second. It was all consuming, leaving you feeling lightheaded but you couldn’t bare to put a stop to it, until the both of you were completely out of breath and had no other choice but to break away for air.

You left his lips puffy and tinged red and he left yours kiss-bitten and only yearning for more. His thumb rubbed over your bottom lip once before his fingers tangled up in your hair and he pulled you right back in.

So lost in the heat of the moment, spinning out of control in one of the best ways possible, you ended up getting pulled on top of him, straddling his waist with your arms locked around the back of his neck.

He leaned back slightly, his palms roaming up your sides, around your back and down to your hips. You felt his fingertips sliding beneath the end of your shirt, and everywhere he touched simply struck a blaze beneath your skin.

He pulled back slightly, his lips barely grazing yours as he fluttered his eyes open and waited for you to do the same. You caught his gaze and the undeniable gleam dancing in his dark eyes, something that made you want to immediately pursue anything he might’ve had his mind set on.

“Tell me something nobody knows about you.” He mutters breathily, sliding his hands fully beneath your shirt to caress your sides.

You eyed him for a moment, biting down on your bottom lip without realizing it, maybe just trying to feel the friction he took away.

“Something nobody knows?” You asked, subconsciously twirling the ends of his hair between your fingers as you put some thought into it. He kept roaming his hands up and down your sides, your smoothed skin was a beautiful comparison to his tougher palms and one jagged fingernail that scraped against you.

“I’m scared of snakes.” You shrugged, but he only smirked and shook his head at you.

“Everyone is. Something deeper than that.”

You pulled back a tad bit, your eyes lingering down to his puffed lips that you were dying to get another taste of.

“I-“ you hesitated, and he could see it immediately.

“Tell me.” He gently urged, rubbing his thumbs back and to against your hips. You looked into his eyes, that intense, strong gaze unwavering when you caught it again.

Suddenly, for some strange reason, it was all too easy to admit something you’d never told anyone, and never planned to in your entire life.

“I have a scar on my thigh from my ex boyfriend pushing me down some stairs when I was in high school, and it’s pretty noticeable, but i’ve never told anyone where it came from because- I don’t know, honestly. I just, i’ve never told anyone what happened. I just said I fell.”

Once again, there was that strange feeling of an immense weight feeling like it had been lifted right off of your chest, and maybe all you needed to do was open up to people a little more instead of keeping a brick wall built around your heart, but up until Tyler, that was never possible for you.

His jaw throbbed twice before his eyes adverted down for a second, then back up. You could easily see the shift. The blackest of hues casted over them.

“Can I see it.” He whispered, and suddenly you felt like closing yourself off once again. He could tell that you were apprehensive, which was why he added, “Please?” as he rubbed small circles against your skin.

You took a moment before you leaned back a little, pulling your shorts up just a tad to expose the embedded scar you always carefully hid, traced high up against your skin.

He looked down, taking in the look of the faded yet deep indentation, clenching his teeth hard behind his lips.

“Needed nineteen stitches.” You mutter as you slide your finger over the jagged line. It still makes you cringe just to touch.

Tyler slides his hand out from underneath your shirt and brings it down to your thigh, his fingertip delicately tracing over that wound once before he looks back up into your eyes again, this time with a sharper stare that could slice right through you.

“He should’ve got his ass beat for that” His gravely voice suddenly feels like it has the power to physically shake you.

“He didn’t, but I did leave him.” You say back, watching as he nods and slides his hand back underneath your shirt, roaming it up to the middle of your back before he pulls you closer.

“Good.” He mutters before he leans in and locks his lips with yours, once again making you melt into him for the second time, and hopefully not the last.

You felt his fingertips graze underneath the thin strap of your bathing suit you’d yet to change out of, the moment suddenly escalating into something so breathtakingly intense.

His tongue explored every square inch of your mouth, leaving the taste of him lingering. That mix of heavy tobacco, peach and mint you knew you wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.

But just then, his phone rang in his pocket, and he stilled as soon as he heard it, debating whether he should let it go or at least see who it was calling.

His hand slipped away from your skin and you missed it there immensely, almost immediately. He dug around in his pocket and pulled the phone out, chasing your lips one last time before he completely detached to look down at who’s name might’ve been floating on his screen.

He sighed before he answered, holding the phone up to his ear, and this time, you were close enough to hear the conversation.

“Yeah?” He bit out with an annoyed tone, which only made a bashful grin play on your face. You leaned back a little and looked at him, taking the moment to really study his features, even if your vision was a little blurred and the lighting around the pool area was barely illuminating anything.

Your fingers absentmindedly twirled some loose ends of his hair as you watched his lips move when he spoke.

“Nah, I’m not. I’m out by the pool right now-“

Just then you heard the voice on the other end of the line say your name and something incomprehensible after that. Tyler rolled his eyes, his shoulders stiffening a little bit as he leaned back a bit and discreetly turned the volume down.

“Stop.” He cut in, his voice suddenly demanding. You felt his fingers grazing your skin with his freehand, and he didn’t realize he was doing it.

“I don’t know yet. Later.” He shrugs one shoulder as he speaks back into the phone, growing increasingly impatient by the passing second.

You could hear a couple laughs by various voices rumbling through the speaker, but that’s when Tyler hung up the phone and silenced it before he laid it down next to him.

You tilted your head to the side, your curiosity undoubtedly piqued and proceeded to ask him, “What was that about?”

He shook his head and placed his hand on your thigh firmly as he leaned up some. “Just my friends being aggravating, it’s nothin.” He says as he roams that hand a little higher.

You only nodded, your eyes glancing back down to those swollen lips you just couldn’t seem to get enough of. You leaned back into him and he met your kiss halfway once again, but it was short-lived when he pulled back, out of nowhere, his eyes filled with something you deemed unfamiliar and rather unreadable.

His lips parted but he didn’t speak for a moment, trying to find the right words. Truthfully, he was nervous to ask, because he didn’t know if he was about to ruin the moment or exemplify the passions of it, and the last thing he wanted to do was give you the wrong impression of him.

He inhaled a slow breath before he finally let the words out, feeling his hands start to get clammy against your skin.

“I know we just met, and this is all kind of going fast, but I’m okay with it… if you are?”

You felt the air get caught in your lungs, blinking twice as you realized what might be about to happen next.

His nervous antics caused his fingers to fidget a little and you felt that against your back. He desperately awaited your response as he stared solely into your eyes, showing nothing but pure urgency for you, and anxiousness mixed in with it.

You felt your heart beginning to hammer in your chest again, bringing back those violent pulsations to pound in your ears and at this point you were fairly certain he’d be able to hear it himself.

All you could do was attempt to calm yourself but there was hardly any use to that, and instead of giving him a straight forward answer like he was waiting for, all you did was pull yourself off of him, and he watched you intently as you stood up and slipped your shirt over your head, and your shorts down to your ankles before you stepped out of them.

He’d already seen you in that bathing suit but it was different this time. His eyes roamed down to admire every curve and crevice your body had to offer, shamelessly stopping to take in specific parts of you that he could pinpoint as his favorites immediately.

You kept your eyes on him as you took a step back and stepped down into the shallow, heated water, that you already knew wasn’t going to help your case when your skin already felt like it was set ablaze, and all due to his simplest touches.

He never took his eyes off of you as he followed your lead, standing up and pulling that hoodie, along with an undershirt over his head, exposing those sharp abs and a series of tattoos you wanted to know the meaning behind.

You lowered yourself until the water rested at your shoulders and waited for him to join you. He pulled his joggers down, already had swimming trunks on and you couldn’t help but to smirk when you noticed that.

“Did you have this all planned out?” You asked as you motion over the trunks that sat dangerously low around his hips.

“I planned to come out here.” He says as he takes a step down into the water. “Didn’t think i’d be lucky enough to see you again, though.” He says as he lowers himself down. The water stopped halfway up his chest, his skin fusing red from the heat, but neither of you minded it.

He reached back and picked up that bottle that was long forgotten by you, taking a few sips before he handed it over.

“Might as well finish what we started.” He shrugs, referring to the rest of the liquor filling only a quarter of that glass bottle.

You grabbed it from him and took two sips, and he found it a little fascinating how you never winced when the poison hit your throat.

When you passed it back to him, he placed it back down on the edge of the jacuzzi and brought his arm up to rest lazily behind you.

The liquor was the only reason why you weren’t a complete mess. Somehow you managed to steady your thundering heart and the knots in your stomach were only barely noticeable by that point, and all you felt were tingles skating through your whole body. Like an unspoken plea for his touch that your skin craved, but your lips didn’t speak.

You turned your head to look at him, and he was already staring back at you with a crooked smirk and that knee-weakening dimple embedded in his cheek. He had a bit of a deeper, rosier tinge casted over his skin, mixed with that glint in his eye that you couldn’t miss even if you tried to.

“I enjoy talking to you.” He says as his fingers play with the ends of your hair that falls over your shoulder. “You’re very enjoyable to talk to.” He adds, earning a chuckle to slip past your lips and his. It was obvious that the alcohol had sunk in judging by the goofy grin he had and the way his words were a bit slurred, but it was the same for you.

“You think you’d say that if you were sober right now?” You quirked a brow at him.

“I know I would.” He says with a reassuring nod. “Just cause i’m drinking doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about right now. I mean everything i’m saying to you. I don’t usually, like, open up to people I just met, believe it or not. But it’s… it’s just easy to do with you.”

You felt your lips sliding up into another smile, probably for the hundredth time that night.

“I feel the same way with you. I mean, I told you something i’ve never told anybody else before. So, if that doesn’t say something, I don’t really know what will.”

“Says a whole lot.” He smirks, his eyes involuntarily flickering down to your lips all over again, and you knew in that moment that you were done talking when you subconsciously leaned in towards each other.

His kiss might end up being your biggest weakness from that point on. You just knew that when you inevitably part ways, you were going to be craving the feeling he so effortlessly gave you.

He was trying not to worry about the fact that the time was so limited. All he wanted to was to savor every last second he gets to have with you. Everything else just simply wasn’t on his mind anymore.

You found yourself back on top of him, this time with very little clothing in between. Your hands roamed over his chest, fingertips trailing through the patches of hair that made a path from the middle of his chest, down his torso until it disappeared beneath his trunks.

A low groan reverberated through his throat when you slightly ground down against him, feeling the hard bulge beneath the thin fabric that he was ready to rip right off.

You felt his hand snake around from your lower back to your hip, before his fingers dipped underneath the band of your bathing suit bottoms, eliciting a gasp the second you felt the pad of his middle finger graze over your throbbing clit.

He leaned in more to lock his lips with yours again as he swirled that finger fluidly, reveling in the mix of breathy sighs and sweet, low moans that slipped past your lips and got trapped somewhere within him.

His tongue slid around yours, and that particular flavor made itself at home when it sunk into your tastebuds.

The circular motions of just that single finger had your entire body buzzing. Your nails dug down into his shoulders and you felt the thick band of muscle flex when he felt the sting, but he didn’t stop you, nor did he want to.

“You wanna go up to my room?” He mutters against your lips as he quickens the pace. You had to take a minute to collect yourself just enough to be able to respond to him, and that only happened when he slowed down those circular motions to give you a chance to speak properly.

You shook your head, and he pulled back to look at you with a bit of a confused look crossing his face.

“Don’t wanna go anywhere. I wanna do this right here.” You breathed out, and it was evident that he was a little taken back by that.

He eyed you for a second before he glanced over both of his shoulders. There was nobody around, most of the room lights were turned off that he could see by the windows, and granted the two of you had been out there for quite a while without anybody else intruding.

“That’s a little risky.” He says, but he smirks right after, and you could see the gleam sparking in his eyes when the thrill of possibly getting caught red handed took over him, too.

“I’m willing to take a risk tonight if you are.” You whisper back, sliding your tongue over your lips before you lean back into him, catching his kiss before he has a chance to speak.

His answer was given to you when you felt him pull the string of your bikini that was tied against your hip. The fabric melted off the right side of you before he reached down and pulled the other one, leaving you completely bare underneath the boiling water.

He kept his lips locked with yours, his tongue never getting tired of exploring each and every inch within your mouth as he lifted up just a little to pull his trunks down enough.

When there was no clothing keeping the two of you separated under the water, you felt a rush of nerves jolting through you. It suddenly became more than a heavy make out when your bodies collided.

You pulled back from his lips, inhaling the much needed oxygen that suddenly felt a little bit suffocating, and he kept his eyes trained intently on you as he stilled every single movement.

“We can slow down.” He whispers breathily, but you shake your head almost too abruptly.

“No, it’s not that. it’s just, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me either. I don’t, honestly, I don’t ever do this. I just want you to know that.”

“I already knew that.” He softly whispers back. “I could tell. And, you might not believe this, but I don’t ever do these types of things either.”

You didn’t believe him as much as he probably believed you, but you didn’t want to waste what little time you had questioning whether or not he was being completely honest with you.

“You didn’t give me a bad impression of you. Not at all. Why do you think I came back out here tonight?”

“Cause you wanted to sit by the pool, I thought?”

“The only reason I wanted to do that was because I was hoping i’d see you out here again.” He admits, making your heart skip at least three beats.

“I’m glad you did.” You beam before the temptations get the best of you all over again. You lean back into him, latching your lips with his for what felt like the millionth time, but you weren’t even close to getting tired of it.

That kiss certainly, and suddenly escalated into something so much more when he reached down and grabbed himself, positioning so that he could easily push up into you.

But before he did that, he made it a point to pull back one last time, catching your eyes when they fluttered open.

“Are you positive you wanna do this?” He asks, his voice has a whole new edge to it, exemplifying how serious he was about the simple question.

You nodded easily before you said, “positive”, and that’s when his eyes scanned yours, searching for the faintest hint of dishonesty, but he found none at all.

He nodded once before you felt his tip at your entrance, and you braced yourself for what was to come next.

He kept his dark eyes focused on you as he slowly angled his hips upwards, pushing himself in just a little at a time.

Your brows knitted together the moment you felt him stretching you out, and he could tell by the way your walls were clamping down around him, that it had probably been a while since you’ve done this with anybody else.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He mutters, trying and failing to keep his voice steady and strong, because the immaculate feeling you were giving him was already sending him off to a euphoric planet.

You grasped his strong shoulders and lowered yourself down, pushing him in even more. The searing, stinging pain quickly faded away once you completely accepted every inch of him. He was certainly bigger than anyone else had been before him, and somehow he could already tell that, and he’d be lying right through his teeth if he said that didn’t stroke his ego a little bit.

He held his hips still until he felt you relax. He let you take the lead, simply because he didn’t want to be too overwhelming.

Once you starting rocking your hips, his eyes immediately rolled back. The way your tight walls clutched him could’ve very well became a new addiction that he wouldn’t know how to overcome anytime soon.

You bit down on your lower lip to attempt to keep your moans at a minimum as you swayed back and to, causing waves in the rolling water that splashed up to the surface over and over again.

He felt beads of sweat sliding down his temple, tasted some saltiness on his lips, too. He didn’t realize how worked up he really was until he was fighting with all his might not to grab your hips and mercilessly fuck into you.

He watched as you took all of him better than it seemed like you were going to at first. You somehow knew exactly what to do to feel him as deep as he could possibly go, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly, and he found himself completely adoring the fact that you were using his body to your advantage.

Your head tipped back the moment he thrusted his hips up, hitting a spot that you never knew you had, that made an immediate wave of warm tingles course through your veins.

He wrapped both arms around your lower back and pulled you flush against him, finding your lips and captivating them with his own.

He slowly angled his hips back and to, loving the sounds that slipped through your lips with each gentle thrust.

Your nails left half-moon indentations in his shoulders, and they’d probably end up being there for a couple days after.

You were beginning to feel your head spin out of control again, but all you did was embrace that wildly unstoppable feeling with everything you had, and all he did was enhance it each time you felt his tongue glide across your lips, and his breathy groans get lost within your mouth.

The passions were running deeper than either of you could’ve ever braced yourselves for. Your bodies were intuitively connected, moving in perfect rhythm, complete harmony.

You’d never felt more in tune with anyone else before in your life, and he’d never felt more encapsulated by anybody he’d ever been with before.

He started thrusting faster when he picked up on the signs you gave him. You could hardly keep your composure when you felt him repeatedly pounding into you, knocking against your sweet spot perfectly.

Your knees started to ache as they bared down into the step of the jacuzzi, your thighs burning from how far they were spread apart, but neither of those feelings mattered enough in that moment.

All you were focused on was what Tyler was doing to you. The riveting sensations that overpowered your buzzing body. The way his low, deep groans made you clench down around him. His arms wrapped tightly around your back as he rocked up into you.

You had to press your lips against his shoulder to muffle the unfaltering moans, and he held you tighter before he picked up the pace once more.

His lips placed a few loose kisses to your neck as he pushed himself in and out of you with a force that made waves arise in all different directions.

The sounds of the water splashing against the tile, breathy sighs, groans and muffled moans were all that the two of you could hear.

He felt you pulsate around him again, a couple high moans escaping from his shoulder and you couldn’t help it. Your eyes screwed shut as you clinged to him, drawing small traces of blood where your nails dug down, but he wouldn’t have minded it either way.

He heard his name slip past your lips before you even realized you said it, and he couldn’t help the feelings that gave him.

A mix of incomprehensible cries of pure pleasure lingered around you both and he wasn’t worried about the sounds any longer when he knew you were so close to that earth-shattering orgasm he was aiming to give you.

He kept his thrusts strong and steady even when he felt like his knees were becoming too weak. His brows furrowed in complete concentration as he kept trying to hold back until he felt you release around him.

He leaned back and turned his head to the side, waiting for you to look back at him, and when you did, you could see the dazed and blissed out look in his low, faded eyes.

His puffed lips were parted, some slick ends of his hair cling to the sides of his face, brows furrowed intently and he looked like the epitome perfection in your eyes for everything you ever knew it to be.

You couldn’t help but to catch his lips once more, completely allowing any and all the sounds that he pulled from you to get lost within him.

His arms tightened around you again, your chest flush with his and tongues at war for the umpteenth time that night, until he felt your body shudder and your mouth fall open, breaking that heated kiss the second you felt that high crash into you with a force that nearly made you tremble.

He leaned back to watch you, finding you somehow even more beautiful than he already thought you were. Your head tipped back as you welcomed that all consuming rush that found home in your veins and spread rapidly through every last inch of you.

His name once again flew past your lips and that’s when his hips stuttered, and one drawn out, low groan escaped his lips as his head tipped back and his and your releases mixed within you.

Your eyes rolled the moment you felt him fill you, the warmth engulfing you as it took over.

You peered your eyes open and saw the hazy blur of the stars above, though a couple of them probably weren’t actually there in the first place.

He picked his head back up and watched as you came down from that high he was quite proud about giving you. Both of your chests were heaving deeply, heavy breaths emitting past your lips and his, and the moment you locked eyes again, there was a brief pause in the quick rhythm of your racing heart.

His pupils were dilated, matching the moon above as he looked back at you, lips practically bruised by this point and cheeks far deeper than just a rosy hue.

He slid his tongue between his lips before he slowly pulled himself out of you, and you had to admit that you missed the feeling of him stretching you out immediately.

“I, uh-“ he stammers as he pulls his trunks back up, and you take that as your sign to reach behind him and grab the other half of your two-piece and assemble it back in place.

“I came in you.” He says as he eyes you worriedly. “I shouldn’t have, I mean, I should’ve pulled out. Right?”

What you didn’t know, was that it was the first time he’d done that before. Usually he wore a condom and then he didn’t have to pull out of whoever he happened to be with, but most times he would just let them swallow it. He never even thought about fucking someone else completely raw with the intentions to do what he just did.

“I’m on birth control.” You tell him as you tie the strings against your hips. “But yeah, I mean, what if I wasn’t, right?”

“But you are?” He asks to be sure, and you nod back. You could visibly see the relief that washes over his face, but he’s still perplexed over the fact that he didn’t even try to pull out of you. He didn’t know what came over him, or how he had gotten so caught up in the moment that he completely disregarded the rules he always strictly follows.

“Alright.” He says as he places his hands on your hips, rubbing his thumbs over your skin gently.

“Come here.” He mumbles before he wraps his arms around your back and pulls you into him, holding you tight against his chest as he takes a moment to endure everything that his heart was feeling and his mind was thinking.

You laid your cheek against his shoulder and held him back, feeling his steady heartbeat thump against your chest.

Even though the two of you had just done so much more, that simple embrace felt like it was on the higher scales of intimacy. You didn’t know what exactly you expected, but it wasn’t to be wrapped up in his arms.

You felt your heart fluttering, and a doomed feeling eased it’s way in. You knew right then and there that you were going to be thinking about this man for far too long after you both inevitably say your goodbyes, and it was going to hurt worse than hell.

Thats when those thoughts started seeping in for you, and unknowingly to you, for him too. He was wondering what he should try to do to stay in touch with you, or if that was even something you wanted from him. He was thinking about how he probably just fucked himself thoroughly, because he had completely gave into his temptations that all revolved around you.

He doesn’t regret a moment, but he’s already dreading what it’s about to be like when you both leave.

He didn’t know how to go about anything else. He didn’t come there expecting to meet someone he had an instantaneous connection with like nobody he’d ever met before. He couldn’t help that he just wanted to hold onto you for as long as he could in the short time he and you both had left at that hotel.

But all those worrisome thoughts suddenly vanished when you pulled yourself up and looked into his eyes. All he was focused on then, was you. And undoubtedly it would probably be that way from there on out.

“Tyler” you whispered his name in a different way. A way that made his stomach immediately drop. A way that sounded like regret to him.

“Yeah?” He swallowed thickly, doing his best not to let his rampant emotions get the better of him.

You shy away from his intense gaze and he wished you wouldn’t have done that. He dips his head to catch your eyes again and hopes you’ll hold it.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice suddenly softer, a little shakier, even.

You were afraid to say what you were thinking, as was he. You knew things were happening so fast that it was almost impossible to process it all, but the only thing you knew for certain was that there was no solid ending in sight for what that night had mounted into.

“I just-“ You began, but you found it so hard to muster the words when he was staring at you with so much intensity, so much underlying emotion that he didn’t know how to hide.

“I don’t know what you expect out of this, or if you even expect anything at all… but I don’t know how well I can take it if we leave here and I just never hear from you again.” You admitted, only due to the liquid courage and little bouts of confidence from your previous moments shared together.

His lips parted but he didn’t speak. He realized then that everything he was feeling, was everything you were feeling, and it took him by surprise to say the very least.

“I’ve never been a one night stand type of girl.” You tell him, shrugging your shoulder. “And I don’t ever want to be that. I’m not asking for a relationship with you, or any kind of commitment, but just- I don’t know if I could handle it if you just ghosted me after all of this.”

He held onto every last word you said. He wasn’t completely sure what to say back, because he could tell that you were far better than he could ever dream of being when it comes to expressing your thoughts and your emotions, but he relied more on actions than anything else.

He slipped his ring off of his finger from behind your back and held it out for you. You glanced down at it, brows knitting in confusion before you looked back into his eyes.

“Can you hold onto this for me?” He asks, holding that silver ring between two fingers. “I’ll keep coming back for it, as long as you have it.”

You felt your lips slip up into and effortless smile that brought one to his face too. You took the ring and slid it down two different fingers, but it was too big for either of them, so you reached up and unclasped the necklace you always wore, one that your mom gifted to you years and years ago, and slid the chain through the ring before you clasped it back around your neck.

Tyler stared at it as it sat perfectly against your chest. It was almost like you accepting that ring was the solid reassurance he needed.

“I can’t promise you much. The life I live right now doesn’t really allow time for me to have relationships or, anything at all, really. But I promise that as long as you’re wearing my ring around your neck like that, I’ll keep coming back.”

You nodded, holding out your pinky finger to really seal the deal. He glanced down and let a boyish grin slip across his lips before he wrapped his own pinky around yours and shook it.

“Cross my heart.” he says, staring deep into your eyes to insure that you hear and believe him.

“And as long as you keep coming back, i’ll be wearing this ring around my neck. Cross mine.” You tell him before your pinkies unlock and your lips do instead.

———-

[merrybloomwrites]

You Can Start a Family (Extra: Sickfic Part 1)

Summary: Y/N gets sick and Mitch, Sarah, and Harry take turns doting on her.

Previous Chapters: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine ; Ten

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

Grabbing extra blankets, you bundle deep under the covers of your otherwise empty bed. You hope that your cats will join you soon so you’re not completely alone.

It’s not like you have other people in bed with you every single night. Since you started dating Mitch and Sarah earlier in the year, and added Harry to the relationship three months prior, you’ve spent a decent amount of time alone. One might think that wouldn’t be the case with two boyfriends and a girlfriend, but they’re busy people.

Harry has been writing his next album, traveling twice for writing retreats with his collaborators to minimize distractions. On top of that he’s had meetings, photoshoots, and other projects that require him to be away from you for days at a time.

Meanwhile, Mitch’s album had dropped just a couple weeks prior, and he and Sarah were busy promoting that.

All in all, you were very used to sleeping alone. But for some reason you were really missing them tonight. They had all been home for just three days before they had to fly out to Los Angeles to prepare and rehearse for Harryween.

It had been a somewhat last-minute decision to actually do Harryween this year, since tour had ended a few months before. But the venue was open and most of the band was available, and they knew tickets would sell out immediately, so they decided to pull the trigger and go for it.

That meant that they needed to fit in all of the prep work the week right before Halloween, leaving you alone at home for days. They had left Sunday morning, and since it’s now Tuesday, it’s your third night without them.

You only need to make it until Thursday, and Mitch will be back for a couple of meetings, and then you’ll fly to LA with him for the two shows at the start of the following week.

Knowing that it’s only two more lonesome nights would normally help you, but for some reason you just feel so alone tonight. The bed feels too big and empty and cold. You are cold, freezing, bone deep cold. It isn’t even that chilly out, a mild fall evening.

It’s early to get in bed, not even 9 PM, but you feel exhausted. You wish you could just call them, but you know with the 3-hour time difference that they’re definitely still rehearsing, probably not even taking their dinner break for another hour.

You settle for playing their music, your go to when you just need to hear their voices to feel them close to you. It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep.

The blaring alarm wakes you the next morning, and even though you slept over nine hours, you’re still tired. You go to say good morning to the cats who joined you at some point in the night, and your voice comes out groggy. You clear your throat which only leads to a coughing fit. It doesn’t last long, and you’re fine while you get ready for work, so you figure it was probably just a tickle and not a big deal.

Wednesday is the same as Tuesday, most of your days truly blending together. You take a bath after dinner, hoping it will help the new aches in your joints that bothered you all afternoon, and you nearly fall asleep in the water. If it weren’t for your phone ringing, you definitely would have been out cold within a minute.

You dry your hands and grab the phone, checking who it is before answering.

“Hello,” you say, and notice your voice once again sounds a little rough.

“Hi love,” Sarah replies. “I’ve only got a minute, but I wanted to check in. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“What are you up to?”

“Decided to relax tonight, currently taking a bath.”

“Is that so? Wish we could facetime,” Sarah says cheekily.

You laugh at how forward she can sometimes be and reply, “Get your mind out of the gutter Jones!”

“I know, I just wish I could see my beautiful girl.” You blush at these words as she continues, “How are you? You sound a little hoarse.”

“Yea, I’m okay. Not sure why I sound like this. It happened this morning and just came back. Maybe it’s allergies, the ragweed is pretty bad this time of year.”

“Okay, well just let me know if you get worse. Maybe do a covid test to be safe?”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll do one in the morning before Mitch comes home. Last thing I want is to spread something to you guys before the shows next week.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she reassures. “But always good to check.”

You’re about to ask how she and the others are doing, see if she could put Harry and Mitch on the call for a minute but before you can ask, she says, “Oh, I’ve got to go, we’re starting again. There’s a new transition that we’re struggling with a bit, so we’ve got to work on that more.”

“You guys will get it, you’re the most talented band out there.”

“Thank you, my love. Sleep well tonight, let me know how you’re feeling in the morning.”

“I will keep you posted. I love you.”

“I love you too. Good night.”

“Good night,” you say, and the call is ended.

You sit for a moment, your apartment feeling extra quiet again. It takes all of your energy to get out of the tub and finish getting ready for bed. It’s difficult to adjust to the cool air after the hot bath, and you quickly burrow into the pile of blankets you left on the bed, sighing in relief at the warmth they offer. Like the previous night you play music and immediately fall asleep.

The alarm is even louder than usual the next morning, and it hurts to open your eyes. You go to sit up and realize that everything in your body hurts. You take a deep breath to collect yourself, but that has the opposite effect. The second you breathe in you begin to cough, and it feels like minutes pass before you get it under control.

Forcing yourself out of bed you remember the conversation with Sarah the previous night and decide the first thing to do is take a covid test. You do that and as you wait the 15 minutes for the result you make a cup of tea and get dressed. You’re not sure yet if you’re going to call out sick. As a nanny to a toddler, the last thing you want to do is go to work sick and pass it on to the child. You choose to wait for the test results before deciding.

The timer goes off and you see that it’s negative. You call Beth, the mom you work for, and fill her in, letting her decide if she’s comfortable with you being around her son that day.

After telling her your symptoms she says, “I’m okay with you being around Ryan, but if you’re not feeling well, you should stay home. Take a sick day and rest. I know it’s exhausting taking care of a toddler when you’re not under the weather, and much worse when you are.”

“I’m really not that bad,” you reply. It’s not a complete lie, you already feel slightly better than when you first got up. You had taken a pain reliever and it was helping your achy joints, plus you had only had one more minor coughing fit. You assure Beth that you’re well enough to work and that you’ll see her soon.

She fusses over you slightly when you get to her house, mothering you a bit to make sure you’re not worse than you say you are.

“Call me if you need anything. I can get a substitute or Michael can work from home and watch Ryan.”

“I will, I promise,” you say, locking the door behind her as she leaves.

You feel fine all morning, nothing more than a slight cough. Ryan takes an excellent nap halfway through the day, and you make the mistake of laying on the couch during it. The baby monitor is right next to you, ensuring that you’ll hear Ryan when he wakes up, and the white noise coming through the monitor lulls you into a light sleep.

Beth has told you before that it’s okay if you rest while he’s napping but you normally never do. Today though, you can’t fight it and your eyes slip shut.

After nearly three hours Ryan’s babbling wakes you up. It’s immediately obvious that your short nap was a bad idea, and you feel awful as you get off of the couch. Checking the time, you note that Beth will be home in two hours and tell yourself you can push through to the end of the day, maybe with a little help from Bluey.

You’re relieved when Beth walks through the door, having gotten worse throughout the afternoon. She again dotes on you as only a mother can and tells you to take off the next day. You try to protest, since you’re already planning to be out for days the following week to travel to LA, but she won’t hear it.

“I will see you next Thursday. Not tomorrow. Rest. Get better so you can enjoy your boyfriend’s show.”

You smile and thank her before driving home. The second you enter your apartment you take off your shoes and climb into your bed. You don’t realize that you’ve fallen asleep until you jerk awake hearing the door open. You’re confused, and worried that someone is breaking in, but a moment later you hear Mitch calling out your name.

You try to shout out to him and let him know where you are, but as soon as you open your mouth you begin to cough. It’s even worse than the fit you’d had in the morning and Mitch rushes into the room, immediately rubbing your back to soothe you.

Finally, you start to catch your breath and you turn, curling into Mitch’s embrace as he wraps his arms around you.

 “What’s wrong baby? Sarah said you didn’t sound great last night but this is worse than I expected.”

“It wasn’t this bad yesterday. It wasn’t even this bad when I got home earlier. I feel like shit.”

“What do you need?” he asks.

“I don’t know. This is helping though,” you say referring to him holding you. He squeezes you tighter for a moment and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

For a few minutes you stay like this until another coughing fit wracks your body. Mitch again rubs your back, his touch calming you even as you struggle to breathe. When you’re done coughing, he shifts so he can get off of the bed.

“Don’t leave, please,” you say, grabbing on to him.

“I just want to check if you have any medicine, I’ll be right back.”

“Please,” you say, refusing to let go if his arm. Deep down you know that you’re being clingy, but you can’t bring yourself to care in that moment.

“Okay, c’mere,” he says and gestures for you to wrap your limbs around him. Once you’re secure he carries you with him to the bathroom and places you down on the closed toilet lid. He opens the closet door and takes out the box of different medications you have in there.

“Have you taken anything yet?” he asks.

“I took some Tylenol earlier today, but it’s been a while.”

“Nothing for the cough?”

“No, it really wasn’t that bad before.”

“Okay, here, take this,” he says, handing you the small cup filled with cough syrup. You do as you’re told and he takes out the thermometer, holding it up to your head.

It beeps a moment later and he says, “Definitely a low-grade fever. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had the chills, and I guess body aches.”

“Alright, you said it’s been a while since you had Tylenol?”

“Yea, I only took it this morning.”

“Here’s another dose, it’ll help with everything else.”

You take the medicine as instructed, too tired to even think and grateful that you have someone there to tell you what you need to do.

“Have you eaten today?” Mitch asks.

“Yea, I had a sandwich for lunch,” you answer.

“But no dinner?”

You shake your head no.

“Okay,” he replies. “I’m going to heat up some soup for us. Do you want to wait in bed or come with me?”

“With you,” you reply, holding out your arms so he’ll carry you again. He smiles at how adorable sick you is, and he picks you up with ease, loving having you in his arms.

He places you on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island and you rest your head on your arms as he gets food ready. Normally you’d be asking him how his flight was, how rehearsals had been going all week, but instead you just rest your eyes, comforted by the sounds of another person in the apartment with you for the first time in days.

A few minutes later Mitch places a bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of you. He sits on the stool next to yours with his own bowl and puts a sleeve of crackers between you two. You lift your head up and thank him before starting to eat. You’re feeling a little better now that the medicine has had time to work, and you’re able to finish your dinner.

As soon as you and Mitch are both done eating you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Bedtime?” he asks, and you nod your head yes.

He cleans up the dishes and the two of you head to the bathroom to get ready. You lean against Mitch as you brush your teeth, too tired to stand on your own. He keeps a firm arm around you, making sure you don’t fall, and leads you into the bedroom.

Once you’re both in bed you immediately move to lay on top of him, needing to be as close as possible.

“Is this okay?” you ask, and he replies, “Of course, baby. I’ve missed my human blanket.”

You smile and melt into the embrace, his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safer and more content than you have in days. It doesn’t take long before you once again fall into a deep sleep.

Mitch, however, stays awake for some time after you. It’s still fairly early, especially since he’s on west coast time. Once he’s sure you’re asleep he pulls out his phone, careful not to disturb you with his movement.

He sends a text in his group chat with Sarah and Harry, telling them about how sick you are. It’s obvious how worried they are in their replies and Mitch assures them that he plans to take you to the doctor in the morning if you’re not feeling better.

The moment he wakes up the next day he can tell something is wrong. He feels like he’s in an oven and he immediately realizes the heat is coming off of your body as you lay sprawled on him. Carefully he reaches over to the side table and picks up the thermometer to see what your temperature is.

He grimaces as it beeps loudly in the quiet room, but you remain asleep. He checks what it says and grows more worried. While yesterday you had a mild fever, it’s much higher now. Just as he puts the thermometer back down you suddenly wake up coughing.

Mitch helps you sit upright so you can breathe easier, and after it passes he hands you a glass of water, encouraging you to take small sips.

Your whole body is aching, and a violent shiver shoots through you.

“Baby, I think you should get checked by someone today, okay?”

You want to refuse, saying it’s not that bad, but you don’t have the energy to fight so you simply nod to agree.

The start of the morning is hazy. You and Mitch shower together so he can help you and make sure you don’t slip in your weakened state. You get dressed and throw your damp hair up into a bun and join Mitch in the kitchen for breakfast. A shower and food have done you some good, and you’re feeling more alert. You make an appointment with a doctor, happy to see an opening in just an hour.

Mitch insists on cancelling his morning meeting to go with you, but you tell him you’ll be fine. He concedes by just pushing it back a little bit so that he can drive you to your appointment.

As he drops you off he tells you for the hundredth time to text him with updates and let him know when you need to be picked up, reassuring you that he can leave his meeting if he needs to.

“I’ll be okay Mitch. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. I have for a while now.”

“I know you can, I just- we all just like to take care of you.”

“And I love that about the three of you. But I will be fine. Now go, I need to check in.” He grabs your hand for a moment and squeezes tightly before letting you go.

You go into the office and the woman at the front desk hands you the typical forms to fill out. After handing those back you wait for a little while, happy that you thought to bring a book. Focusing on that helps you not focus on how crappy you’re feeling.

Once in with the doctor you tell her your symptoms and she does her normal physical assessment.

“Well, there are a number of things this could be. We’ll test for covid, flu, strep. But, we’ve had a number of cases of fungal pneumonia recently, so I want to check you for that as well. Seems there could be something nearby that’s causing these infections.”

With that she sends you off to the lab next door where they do a number of tests, including a chest x-ray to know for sure what’s going on. You text Mitch to fill him in while you wait for the results.

You get called back into your doctor and she informs you that you do in fact have fungal pneumonia.

“I’m going to prescribe you itraconazole, an anti-fungal drug. You can continue taking cough medicine and acetaminophen to treat the symptoms of the infection.”

You nod to show you’re listening and ask, “Is it contagious?”

“No, fungal pneumonia is not contagious. To get it you need to come in contact directly with the spores. Did you visit the wetlands recently?”

“The one’s over near Creek Road?”

“Yes.”

“Yea, I went there Sunday afternoon. Why?”

“Most of the patients I’ve recently diagnosed with this have been there. There must be something on one of the trails that’s infecting people.”

You continue to nod, finding this mildly interesting. If you weren’t sick you’d probably find it fascinating, but you’re too tired to think about it too deeply. She asks about your hike, writing down the specific areas that you walked to send over to the rangers at the Wetlands so they can determine where the danger is.

“I’ve sent your prescription to the pharmacy you listed; it should be ready soon.”

“Thank you,” you say, and she leads you out of the room.

You sit in the waiting room and text Mitch that you’re done, and he tells you he’s outside, his meeting having finished a half hour prior.

The drive home is quiet, with a stop at the pharmacy to pick up your prescription. When you get back to the apartment you head straight for your bedroom, exhausted from the morning’s activities. Mitch joins you a few mimutes later, bringing lunch and your medicine with him.

He Facetimes Sarah as finish your food, and she and Harry answer. They ask how you’re feeling, and you shrug, too tired to come up with a full response. You take the medicine that Mitch gives you, and you fall asleep while they’re still on the phone, comforted by the sounds of their voices.

They stay on the call expressing their concern and Mitch assures them that he’s taking care of you. A few minutes later they hang up, and Mitch carefully cleans up lunch. He’s about to lay down next to you again when you wake up.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asks.

“The same I guess. Don’t you have another meeting to be at?”

“Yea it’s in a little while, but I can cancel and stay home with you.”

“Mitch, really, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure! Go, you’ve got important stuff to do.”

“You’re important,” he replies.

You nearly respond sarcastically but instead you find yourself blushing at his words. He leans down to kiss you, and you’re very grateful that you’re not contagious and can still do this when sick. It’s the first kiss you’ve shared with him since Sunday, and it feels like home.

He pulls away, pressing a kiss to your head and gets ready for his meeting. He checks in with you again before leaving and you reassure that you have everything you need and plan to stay in bed watching movies the whole time he’s gone. He walks out of the room and comes back a minute later, one of your cats under each of his arms. Mitch places them on the bed with you, gives you a final kiss and a “love you” and leaves the apartment.

Mitch is gone for a movie and a half, walking in partway through the 2nd live action Scooby Doo.

He sees what you’re watching and looks almost guilty.

“What?” you ask after seeing his expression.

“I was on the phone with Sarah and Harry while I drove home. They’re concerned about you traveling when you’re not feeling well.”

Your first instinct is to immediately reply that they’re being ridiculous, that you’ll be fine. But instead, you say, “We have 2 full days until the flight to LA. Let’s just play it by ear and decide on Sunday, okay?”

“Okay, that’s fair,” he replies.

“And even if I’m not better by then I could always just fly out Tuesday. You guys will look silly without your Daphne!”

“I still can’t believe you convinced us all to have Scooby Doo as the costumes for Harryween.”

“I can’t believe you chose to be Scrappy Doo.”

“Well Pauli already claimed Scooby. What was I supposed to do?”

“Pick a normal villain from the show, like everyone else?”

“But I wanted to be a dog for Halloween!” he practically whines as he plops in the bed next to you.

You smile fondly, loving when you got to see this side of him. You weave your fingers through his hair and you’re both quiet for the rest of the movie.

Mitch dotes on you for the rest of the weekend, insisting that you do nothing other than rest and get better. He prepares food, brings you your medicine, and carries you with him whenever you’re feeling particularly clingy.

While you hate being sick, you love the excuse to slow down for a few days. Everything is always so hectic for the four of you, and a weekend of nothing but cuddles on the couch with comfort movies and shows in the background is nearly perfect. It would be completely perfect if Sarah and Harry were also there. And if you didn’t still feel like crap.

You slowly got better, and by Sunday morning you were confident that the anti-fungal medicine was working, and you were officially on the mend. It took a lot of convincing the others, but by Sunday afternoon you and Mitch were seated next to each other flying back to Los Angeles.

It’s late when you land, and you go directly to Harry’s place. He and Sarah are waiting outside and rush to the car to help with your bags. The boys bring the luggage inside and Sarah wraps an arm around your waist and walks with you.

You spend the first few minutes there telling everyone repeatedly that you’re fine, just a bit tired. And you’re telling the truth. Your fever is gone, the chills and body aches going with it, and you have only a mild cough. Even if you hadn’t been sick the last couple days you’d be tired after traveling coast to coast.

That night you sleep in between Harry and Sarah, Mitch on Sarah’s other side knowing the other two needed to feel you close to them.

You wake up in the middle of the night, knowing you’re about to have another coughing fit, and try to sneak out of bed so you don’t wake anyone. Unfortunately, Sarah is wrapped around you so tightly that you can’t escape. You start to cough, turning into the pillow to try and muffle the sound but the others wake up anyway.

They all fuss over you, Sarah rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. Finally, you stop coughing, but you keep your face pressed into the pillow. You don’t want them to see the tears in your eyes, knowing how much more worried they’ll be if they see that. You can’t help it though, between the breathlessness and the chest pain the coughing brings, your eyes have no choice but to water.

You try to calm yourself with some deep breaths, but that just causes you to start coughing again. This time you turn into Sarah, needing the comfort her hold brings you.

“Sorry,” you eventually say. “I didn’t mean to wake everyone up.”

“Are you okay, love?” Harry asks. “That didn’t sound good at all.”

“I’m okay, my lungs are just a bit irritated.”

“Are you in any pain?” He questions. You know he’s very familiar with lung issues, having dealt with asthma in the past, and you know that he’ll be able to tell if you’re lying.

“My chest hurts a bit, but it’s really not that bad.”

He gives you a look, like he doesn’t believe you, so you hold his hand and say, “I promise, it’s not that bad. It’s already getting better.”

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you to him. You straddle his lap, tucking your face into his neck. You melt into his embrace, loving the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you. Even though you still feel sick, being surrounded by the three people you love fills you with warmth.

Somehow you fall asleep still sitting up with Harry holding you. When you wake up the next morning you’re still in that position. Harry is asleep beneath you, leaning back against the headboard.

The last thing you want is to wake him again, especially since there’s a show tonight. You open your eyes and see Mitch and Sarah are also sleeping, wrapped in each other’s arms. It’s a perfect start to the day, and you note that you feel much better than the last few days.

It’s not much later that everyone begins to stir. It’s already mid-morning but there’s enough time before they need to be at the venue, so no one is in any rush to get up. Sarah does demand that you switch to her lap, saying that everyone else has gotten more cuddles with you and it’s her turn. You go willingly; something about her soft embrace that comforts you immensely.

Eventually you do all get up to eat and shower before going together to the Forum. You stay backstage and get ready while they do soundcheck, wanting the set list to remain a surprise until the show. You love the group costume that was chosen for night 1, everyone dressing as their own version of Barbie or Ken, you included.

When the others get backstage they compliment you on your look and you smile bashfully at the attention. It’s a bit chaotic with everyone getting ready and having a quick dinner. Finally, you say good bye to the others, give Harry a kiss, and head to the floor to watch the show.

You don’t go out yet, knowing that the fans will notice you once you do, and you don’t want to give away the costume theme. As soon as the show officially begins you walk to the fenced off section for friends and family in the back of the pit.

You’re still not feeling 100%, and the lights and loud music are a bit disorienting, but you don’t let that show. This is your first time attending Harry’s concert as his official girlfriend, and you know that people are going to be watching you, judging you.

Even though you’re still a bit under the weather, you have a great time at the concert. You’re so happy that the set list was a surprise, and you know a fan nearby got your reaction to the start of Canyon Moon, one of your favorites that you hadn’t heard live before.

As always, harry puts on a perfect show. You love watching the fans and checking out all of their costumes. He does the whale to close out the concert and your face hurts from smiling so much. You feel exhausted, and look forward to getting home, but it was worth pushing through.

To no one’s surprise you fall asleep on Harry’s shoulder during the drive home. Sarah and Mitch are in a different car, since you had run out with Harry the second the show ended. You wake up at home, laying on the bed while Harry is taking your shoes off.

“Hi, lovey,” he says as you sit up, your legs dangling off the end of the bed with Harry standing between them. You reach your arms up, placing your hands on his face and gently pulling so he knows to lean down. As soon as he’s close enough you press your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“Hi baby,” you say once you break the kiss. “You did great tonight.”

“Yea? Liked the show?”

“Loved it. Always do.”

He smiles at that, dimples popping out on each cheek. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good. Sleepy, but otherwise I feel fine.”

“That’s a relief,” he replies. “Hated seeing you sick. Hated knowing you were sick, and I couldn’t be there to make you feel better.”

“Well, I feel much better now. All healed up.”

He flashes his dazzling smile again, and you pull him in for another kiss.

“Let’s get ready for bed,” he says as he breaks the kiss a minute later.

The two of you are halfway through your nighttime routines when Mitch and Sarah get home. Before long the four of you are cuddled in bed, Harry quietly humming something that sounds oddly similar to “I’m Just Ken.”

The four of you go out the next morning since you want to see a bit of the city. They each choose a couple of their favorite spots to show you before you all need to get to the venue. You again get yourself ready as they do another quick soundcheck, one of the stylist’s helping you with the red wig you’ll need as Daphne.

Once Harry is in his Fred costume the two of you take some pictures together. Night 2 is the same as Night 1, except you’re a bit more worn out from walking through the city all morning. As much as you insist to the others that you’re not sick anymore, that’s not completely true. Your head is pounding by the end, and you feel slightly dizzy. On more than one occasion you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest, it’s racing so fast.

You do everything to keep a smile on your face and not show how you’re feeling. For the first time ever, you feel relieved when the show is over. You enjoyed it of course, but you can’t wait to lay down, which will hopefully stop the world from spinning.

You’re quiet on the drive home, but still able to hide your symptoms from Harry. Once home you get ready for bed, falling asleep before Mitch and Sarah even get back.

The next morning is slightly chaotic as the four of you need to be at the airport fairly early. It’s not until you’re all seated on the private plane that they pick up on the fact that you’re kind of out of it. You claim to just be tired, but you know that they don’t buy it and are all watching you closely.

You’re seated next to Sarah and fall asleep on her shoulder shortly into the flight. When you start to wake up a couple hours later you shift, tucking your face into her neck. Mitch catches Sarahs concerned face, asking, “What’s wrong?”

“She feels warm,” Sarah answers. She places her hand on the back of your neck, noting how hot your skin has become. The boys are both immediately worried, each reaching over to feel for themselves.

You lift your head up and give them all a look, silently asking why they’re all touching you.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks. “Be honest with us, please.”

You take a moment to assess before answering, “Kind of dizzy. And cold. And sore.”

“Anything else, love?” Sarah says.

“Maybe a bit nauseous? But not that bad, really.” Despite your insistence that you weren’t going to throw up, Mitch gets up to grab an airsick bag just in case.

“How long until we land?” he asks as he sits back down across from you.

“About an hour,” Harry answers before he turns to you and asks if you need anything.

“I’m fine,” you reply. “Can you just, uhm. Can you maybe sing?”

“Of course I can love. Any requests?”

You shake your head, tucking back into Sarah’s side. Harry begins to sing, and you take deep breaths, trying to keep any nausea and dizziness at bay.

It’s a difficult hour, and a rough landing has you nearly reaching for the airsick bag but you’re able to hold it back.

You all get home mid-afternoon, and you immediately start to unpack. You know that if you don’t you’ll just leave the suitcase for days. When you’re done you head back to the living room where you find Harry sitting on the couch.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Ordering dinner. Don’t think anyone is up for cooking tonight.”

You sit next to him, putting a random show on TV for background noise. You grab a blanket, wrapping yourself in it to fight off the chills. You lean against Harry who wraps an arm around you.  Mitch and Sarah join you two and you guys finish ordering food and sit together quietly while you wait for it to be delivered.

Once it’s there you all move to the kitchen table. You don’t have much of an appetite but try to eat some of your dinner. The others notice that you don’t eat much, but they don’t push it, knowing that your stomach is still bothering you.

Everyone changes into comfy clothes after dinner, and you head back to the living room couch. You’re in between Harry and Sarah, Mitch trailing behind in the bathroom for a minute. You wonder what’s holding him up but understand when he walks out with your medicine box.

He takes your temperature, frowning when he sees you once again have a high fever. You take the medicine he hands you before curling into Sarah’s side. Her hand slides through your hair and rubs your back, and you focus on those comforting touches.

You all watch a movie before deciding it’s time to head to bed. You stand from the couch, taking a moment to steady yourself as a wave of dizziness washes over you.

Your heart is beating incredibly fast again, and you’re having trouble catching your breath. The others stand around you, asking questions that you can’t hear over the pounding of your heartbeat.

You meet Harry’s eyes for a moment before everything goes dark and you collapse into his arms.

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

@akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @theekyliepage @numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry @ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess @houseofdilfs @shaquille-0atmeal-1 @kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye @n0vaj3an

AN: Thank you again for reading this story! There will be a part 2 to this!

[its-in-the-woods]

Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 18

Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here , five here, six here, seven here, eight here,nine here, ten here, eleven here , twelve here , thirthen here, fourteen here, Fifteen Here Sixteen here, Seventeen here,

master list

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/Warning:  As always minor get out Almost entirely fluff, vague suggestions of sex, lots of comfort, it's sweet and sappy

Synopsis: Packing sucks, not as much as getting interrupted did.

Note: Chapter is a hair shorter than normal, but I promise more is coming soon < 3

The last weeks of filming are done, you're exhausted but time stops for no one. There had been so many phone calls after the trip down south. Letting the head of department know you won’t be coming to their show after this one. Next, selling the car, which Deacon happily bought. As long with selling a lot of things that you won’t need anymore. Now you have four days left to pack all your stuff, label it, and have it ready to be picked up by the moving company by Friday. Though you lived in essentially a closet you were surprised at how much stuff you had accumulated over the years. Right now on day three of packing you are ready to dump everything in the trash and disappear into the night.

“Here,” Walton hands you a glass of wine. He has his cup, a sharpie tucked behind his ear as he sits cross-legged in front of a stack of boxes. You were so grateful for his help, the man hadn’t even hesitated to stay and pack with you. Trevor and Deacon had been over to help the first two days but had quickly been brought onto another show. The two of them promised to come down and visit as soon as they could. 

“Oh dang, I need this.” You sigh, taking a sip to try and soothe your frazzled nerves. As you try to figure out how everything is going to get done. “God, if I never have to see another box. I will die happy”

Walton chuckles wrapping your foundations in foam cushioning. “Only downside to moving, packing. How many of these do you need?”

“Oh, this is a sampling of the shade range I would like to have,” You tease, grabbing some paper to wrap up some pallets. 

The two of you work for another hour somehow getting all the makeup packed and secured. You could pretty much lose everything, but those eight totes and five boxes were the most important. Two of those boxes were bankers' boxes of notes, a box with seven hard drives of photos, and the last two boxes were portfolios. Leaning back against the stack of cardboard you feel a little relief. Tomorrow would be clothes and anything left in the kitchen. If it all went well you'd be done mid-day.

Walton was currently splayed out on the floor flipping through one of your portfolios. Bare feet moving back and forth, head propped up by one hand., an empty bottle of vino beside him. You had offered to open another, but Walton had sagely pointed out that a hangover tomorrow would suck. 

“You should bring this with you when you go see Jamison,” Walton comments, pointing at a sketch of creature make-up side by side with the actual piece. You had regularly taken up any opportunity to work on indie films that required monsters, it helped keep you and your portfolio fresh.

You wiggle over and bring the glass of vino with you, “Oh, maybe. I don't want to impose. Just happy to see the place really.” 

Walton squints at you, “I promise Jamison would love these. Bring the book.”  

He flips to another page, it had his face in various stages of being shit kicked. Along with several sketches you had done of him after the fact. You can see his eyes light up as he looks it over.

“Why didn’t you show me these?” Walton gasps, looking at the closer, “These are fantastic.”

You shrug while sipping the last of the wine, “You've kept me busy, hadn't crossed my mind. I think I have one from each time we worked before.” 

“You like to draw me? Would you draw me?” Walton asks, turning to look at you from above his glasses.

You flush, biting your lip a little. “If you like, can't say how good it will come out. I should probably brush up on my sketching skills, it’s been a minute.”

Walton grins, closing the book carefully and sliding it back into its box.  He stretches, crawling over to you. Laying his head against your thigh, his weight a comforting familiarity you’ve grown to enjoy.

“Maybe some tasteful nudes,” He said with a crooked grin, “Hang them up in the dining room.” Walt’s large hands made an exaggerated motion across the air. 

You snort, almost losing your wine, “It would be a heck of a conversation starter.” You run your fingers through his hair, watching as his eyes close. “Then again, I have a feeling people won’t be too surprised.”

A grin spreads over his face, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. As he snuggles in against your thigh, “I’ve never been shy, no shame in a human body after all.” He sighs, kissing your jeans. 

Your hand runs down his shoulders and back, massaging at any knots you find, feeling them relax under your fingertips. He groans a little as you hit one between the spine and shoulder blade. Mentally noting that you should both get a massage once things have settled. You close your own eyes letting your head rest against the boxes. Enjoying the heat of his body against yours, the buzz of the alcohol having you nodding off. 

Walton is kissing your cheek, you open your eyes blinking a few times, your knees yelling at you for sitting so long. You move, stretching out as your joint clicks from being in the same position for so long. 

“M’shit.” You mumble, rubbing at your eyes trying to wake up. Walton is already up and stretching glasses and bottle up on the counter. 

“Should go to bed, sweetheart,” Walton rumbles at you, you let out a breath and push yourself up. Following him over to the bed, sleep was sorely needed. 

The bed is cold and empty, you huff wondering where your partner could have run off to. Grabbing your phone, you see it’s nine in the morning already, which meant you had five hours to finish packing.  Groaning you slide out of bed, finding a mostly clean shirt and some loose-fitting pants. You had already packed a suitcase for the flight that evening. The smell of coffee and a closing door alerts you that breakfast has arrived. 

You wander out from behind the stack of boxes, Walton balancing a coffee tray and a bag of goodies. A grin spreads across his face as he places it on the counter. He was also dressed in yesterday's clothes, a jacket covered in raindrops. 

“Good morning, gorgeous,” He beams, leaning in to kiss you. You linger there for a moment, really hating that you needed to continue to pack. 

“Whatever that is, smells amazing,” You smile back, reaching for a coffee that has your name written on top with a heart. He had taken to drawing little doodles on your coffee lid. Several you had stashed away as keepsakes. 

“There is this adorable cafe down the way, these breakfast sandwiches looked too good not to grab a couple,” Walt smiles, taking his own sip of coffee rolling his eyes, and moaning at the flavor. 

You chuckle digging a sandwich out of the bag, you take a bit repeating his groan at the food. He wasn't wrong, it was delicious food. Sighing you lean against the counter passing Walton his sandwich. The two of you munching on breakfast in a mostly quiet room. You take another sip of coffee and notice several newly packed boxes. You tip your head looking at them, walking over to see the writing on them. 

“Did you box up my clothes?” You ask, turning towards him. He has flushed a little, not meeting his gaze. You grin walking over to him, tipping his chin to look at you, surprised to see worry in his furrowed brows.

“What is it?” You ask quietly, putting your coffee down, and moving back over to him. 

Walt shrugs a little, placing his coffee beside yours, “Couldn’t sleep, didn’t know if I was excited or nervous. So I got up and packed while you slept, figured we could go down early?”

You squint a little at him, watching as he moves from one foot to the other, “Are you nervous about me moving in?”

Walton’s eyes go to the floor, his neck flushing red. It reminds you of the morning you woke up in his spare bedroom, nervous energy bouncing around the room. His usual cool confidence lowered as he looks anywhere but at you. 

“A little,” He finally looks up at you, those hazel eyes glowing in the morning light. “Haven’t had a lady living in my place in.” He looks away fiddling with his watch band, “Well it’s been a long time.”  

You pull him close so your back is against the counter and him standing between your feet. Your hands go to his waist, as you look at him for a moment, making sure to keep eye contact, before you speak. 

“You said you wanted to have hard conversations. Is this one of them?” You ask, trying your best not to let your stomach tie in knots. Since the last panic attack you'd learned to lean on him a little more, you found that getting out whatever was bothering you to ease the tension. Walton always listened, made sure that you were heard, then comforted or reassured you. You wanted to do the same for him, this wasn’t a one-sided relationship. 

Walton’s lips twitch into a smile, “I am anxious to be home with you, to have you there. I think I have this anticipation building, thinking that maybe we’ve gone too fast.” You nod your head, listening. He moves so that he is even closer to you. “But I also don’t want to slow down,” He lets out a breath. “Admitting that is terrifying. Cause the last thing I want is to push you away.”

You lean up and kiss him, holding him against you, “If we need to slow down, I promise to tell you. And if you need to slow down,”. You emphasize this, “You tell me. Open communication.”

He leans back looking at you, scanning your face. You watch his shoulder relax. “Promise?”

“Promise. I want us both to be content, however that is.” You lean up and kiss him again. “We will have our ups and downs, but knowing this.” You gesture between the two of you. “Is solid,” You shrug, lost for words. “Couldn’t ask for better.”

He moves forward, hands running over your knees, under your thighs to lift you onto the counter. Walton moves between your legs, and you wrap your ankles over his hips, hand looping up over his neck. The familiarity of the dance you two did making your heartache, 

“I will bring you the moon,” He whispers in your ear, lips trailing around your ear lob. “Pull down stars to decorate the backyard with.” He murmurs, kissing down your neck, his hands working at your hips. Soft fingers slip under the material of your shirt. “Give you the world.”

You wiggle a little, shivers running down your spine. “You’re my world.” You whisper back, letting your hands run through his hair, breath hitching as his warm hands splay across your skin. “Just need you,”

A bang on the door has you both frozen, Walton moves away adjusting himself to try and hide the obvious hardness, moving to stand behind a stack of boxes. You fix your rucked-up shirt and straighten your ow pants, face flushed. 

You open the door to see Tracy from a few doors down, you had completely forgotten that you had sold her the bed and frame. The woman had been your neighbor for the entire time you’d been in the building, the two of you only ever exchanging pleasantries. So you were surprised when she had offered to take the bed off your hands. The woman topped out at five feet, with sandy hair, leopard print glasses, and an oval face that always seemed a little worried. You were pretty sure she lived with her two sons a few doors down.  

“Oh hey,” You fluster out, trying not to look like Walton wasn’t just standing between your legs. “The bed right?”

Tracy takes you in, that worry deepening as she looks you over “Is this an okay time?”

You plaster a smile on, moving out of the way to let her in, “If you just give us two seconds, me and my-y-ah-boyfriend, will get the bed for you.”

Tracy slides in standing by the stack of boxes as Walton shuffles towards the back. Her arms crossed over her chest, a look of disapproval wrinkling her forehead more. She looks between the two of you as if you just admitted to dating a serial killer. 

“Oh, I thought that was your Dad,” Tracy says out loud, Walton nearly falls over at the words. You duck your head down as your whole face goes red. The two of you are close to having a giggling fit.

“Ahh, haha. Yeah, no.” You try not to squeak, Walton is now on the floor, hand covering his mouth as he does his best not to laugh. 

You smack his arm getting him to help you pull the covers and sheets off. Grateful that you were ridiculously anal and kept the mattress wrapped in plastic. Walton and you trip over each other moving it towards the door with it. 

“Can we bring it to your place?” Walton offers his face a lovely shade of pink as he comes to the door. You are purposely avoiding everyone’s eyes, trying not to make it any more awkward than it already was. 

“Oh,” Tracy says looking him up and down, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Walton shrugs, shaking his head, “Probably not, just one of those faces.”

Tracy’s eyes narrow, but she goes to open the door, her two sons standing there. They give awkward waves and smiles. They were male versions of their mom, except with black hair and freckles. One had a tattoo sleeve, the other wore thick blue glasses. 

“Come on in, It’s got handles at least,” You grimace, the boys grabbing the mattress, the boy with the glasses looking at Walton again. 

You and Walton go back for the frame, handing it awkwardly to Tracy who is still staring. You all but drop the thing onto her, as she continues to eyeball your boyfriend. 

“I got the transfer,” You try to get her towards the door. “So should be good to go,”

“Wait, are you Walter.” Tracey moves towards Walton, who is doing everything but crawling into a box to get away from her. “Walter Googles, you were in that show..”

Walton looks a little stunned, mouth opening and closing a couple of times.

“Ahh, I think you got the wrong person.” You say, quickly stepping in between Tracy and Walton. You were pretty positive Walton would be more than fine under normal circumstances, but really you just needed her out of your apartment. 

She glares at you, hesitating before she grabs the frames and shuffles out.

“Well I hope you have a safe trip then,” The woman says, eyes still squinting at you suspiciously as she exits.  

“Thank you, have a good day,” You reply in your best customer service singsong voice. 

You close the door, locking it before turning back to Walton, he bites his lip, the two of you waiting a good several minutes before letting out a laugh.

“I feel so bad,” You squeak, moving back over to grab a drink of coffee, 

Walton is giggling sliding down onto the floor. “You think I should go ask if she wants an autograph.”

You choke on the coffee, “No, I think that woman has been through enough.”

Walton sits there still giggling as you bring his cup of coffee. You slid down the wall, the only thing left to pack was the kitchen and bed dressing. You lean your head on his shoulder, as the two of you continue to chuckle about the situation. 

“Kitchen left?” Walton asks, kissing the top of your head. 

“Yes,” You groan, “Think we could leave?”

Walton chuckles, “How much was that damage deposit?”

Chapter nineteen

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

*thank you all for the love as always, i can't believe we are hitting eighteen chapters! when the heck did that happen!

@ghoulphile @hiddlebatchedloki @live-logs-and-proper @justme12200 @ryankaylamartin96

@rachmar  @therest-stillunwritten @awhoresjourney @stankface

@itsyellow

[romione-trope-fest]

Sleep Hexed

Title: Sleep Hexed

Author: cheesyficwriter

Selected Trope: Only One Bed

Brief Summary: A No Voldemort tale featuring two idiots in love who don’t quite know it yet. Post-Hogwarts years.

Rating: T

Word Count (if applicable): 3,738

Trigger Warnings: N/A

---

Chapter One

Sleep. 

Interesting, isn’t it? 

All humans need to have the energy to go about their daily lives. Although sleep is unavoidable, the task can become significantly compromised at any moment. 

For Hermione? Sleep has always seemed so simple, yet it causes her much more grief than she cares to admit. 

It’s midday during an impossible season of trials at the Ministry, and she can’t focus on the work that needs to be done simply because she tossed and turned all night long. Instead of her brain deciding that she needed proper rest before a full day of work, Hermione found herself laying awake for the fifth straight night in a row. 

Why can’t she sleep when it feels like she’s tried everything in the books to help her? Hermione always maintains proper hygiene, avoids caffeine as much as possible, performs a nightly Atmospheric Charm to keep her bedroom at an ideal temperature, and even has a set bedtime—no matter how often she has to remind Ron and Harry that the use of her Floo after ten in the evening should only be for emergencies!

Although the cafeteria is bustling with energy during the busy Ministry lunch hour, Hermione’s only point of focus is to mentally strategize ways to get at least an hour of shut eye tonight. Yet she nudges the food around on her plate with her fork, lacking any appetite to eat. 

Her legs are restless beneath the table as she fights the urge to bounce her knee in a jerky rhythm. Ron slides into the empty seat across from her, kinking an eyebrow in her direction as the table shakes from her incessant knee movement. He opens his mouth as if he wants to address it, but says nothing. Hermione bites her lip to hold back a yawn, her eyelids drooping of their own volition. 

“Ron!” Harry plops into the open chair next to Hermione without warning, his eyes bright. She jumps as his lunch tray clatters onto the table. “Mate, that match last night—”

“Was fucking brilliant!”

The two boys fall into a natural conversation, allowing Hermione’s thoughts to drift to topics that don’t involve her. She takes a long sip of her water, hoping the sensation will keep her engaged long enough to excuse herself to the loo without appearing suspicious.

Harry and Ron discuss Quidditch stats for the next five minutes, but her red-headed best friend steals glances her way every so often. A throbbing headache beneath Hermione’s temples grows stronger and stronger with the excessive noise in the room. As she reaches for her glass of water again, her hand collides with the rim and tips the clear liquid onto the table. 

“Bugger!” Hermione withdraws her wand and mutters a quick Scourgify, but nothing happens. She inwardly groans, agitated over her inability to even hold her wand with a steady enough hand.  

Unfortunately, she isn’t the only one who notices. Ron frowns and stops speaking mid-sentence, studying her movements with sudden interest. “What was that?”

“What do you mean?" 

"You. With your wand, just now.” He nods at the 10 and ¾ inch of vinewood dangling loosely between her fingers. “You fumbled a simple spell.”

Hermione scoffs at the critique. “Thanks, Ron.”

“No! It’s just—” He blunders, gesturing towards her face. “I mean it’s you. You’re brilliant. Are you feeling okay?”

“I feel a bit off today. That’s all.” The retort snaps out of her mouth all too quickly. “Maybe I’ll leave early to get some rest.”

“Leave early?” Ron snorts, leaning back in his chair. “You mean actually leave on time with the rest of us for once?”

Hermione rolls her eyes but clamps her mouth shut. It’s baffling how he manages to keep track of her work hours when he’s usually the one cutting out early. But she’s certainly not going to tell him that. 

Ron sighs, propping his elbows on the table as he leans forward. A whiff of sandalwood hits Hermione’s nose, and she struggles to find a way to hold her own underneath the intensity of his gaze. 

The growing lump in her throat is too difficult to swallow down, so instead she averts her eyes while mulling over a way to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“Are you getting enough sleep, Hermione?”

He’s so dangerously close, it’s unnerving. Can he spot the dark circles around her eyes? She’s tried so hard to conceal them with magic this week. Hermione blinks as she fights off another yawn. In a curt tone, she responds, “I’m getting sleep, yes." 

Hermione omits the max one hour a night part, but still. 

Both of Ron’s index fingers shoot out from the fists propping his chin up. "Your spell must be wearing off. These weren’t there earlier.”

He’s pointing right at her eyes. Oh Merlin.

The implication of Ron’s words rings loud and clear. But Hermione is determined to remain Silencio regarding her sleep cycle. She just needs time to sort out what to do with her dilemma. 

“You’re still coming to our party at Grimmauld Place tonight, right?” Harry asks through a mouthful of pea soup, cutting in like he hasn’t been listening to their conversation, even though it’s obvious that he has. It’s so like him to want to maintain the peace. “Gin will hex you if you don’t.”

It kind of feels like I’ve already been hexed.

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to see how the rest of the afternoon goes.”

Ron tuts, clearly not happy with her answer. “What are you on about? You have to come!” 

“I don’t think I have to do anything, Ron.” Her scathing reply comes out much snappier than she intends. She can tell her mood is starting to swing in the wrong direction, and she needs to put a stop to it before her friends pry any further. “Look, I’ll try my best to make it. I’ve got to get back to work.”

As she stands up with her tray, Ron mutters under his breath, “Got to get some sleep is more like it.”

He’s right. Of course he’s right, and that’s what’s so frustrating.  

Hermione ignores his comment and starts on her brisk walk towards the Floo, as fast as her legs can carry her. She’s got a stack of files on her desk at home. Maybe taking a half day and tending to those would be a sufficient amount of work for the day. Kingsley will understand, and she’ll make sure to send him notice as soon as she arrives at her flat. 

Although not certain she’ll have the energy to even make it to the gilded fireplaces, Hermione has to try.  There’s a good chance that she might give in to her fatigue before she is even out of view from her two best friends. And she certainly doesn’t want to be caught drooling all over the papers on her desk in the Law Enforcement department if Ron pops in to check on her. 

A part of her still believes it’s useless to go home right now—with the intention of getting some rest—when there is so much work to be done. She already knows that as soon as she crawls into bed, she’ll be wide awake again. 

–

It’s no surprise that Hermione ends up at Harry and Ginny’s party, after all. 

Even though Ron had sent an Owl to persuade her to attend—five times, to be exact—it’s still a decision that she made on her own. 

After giving it much thought, instead of getting her desperately desired sleep, it occurred to Hermione that exhausting herself at a large gathering might be exactly what she needs to fall into a snooze-filled dream tonight. 

So here she is. Along with every other witch and wizard from her year at Hogwarts, apparently. It didn’t occur to her that this would be a class reunion. Harry really does like to embellish when he insists that “it’ll just be a small gathering with a few friends” but there’s no turning back now. 

Music surges over the boisterous conversation as Hermione steps out of the Floo, and the atmosphere is immediately electric. The party is in full swing as she squeezes her way through the sweaty bodies of many familiar faces who greet her upon arrival. 

Luna is twirling underneath the large overhead chandelier in the center of the entryway. The twins are giving out free demonstrations of their joke products to individuals who are none the wiser. Ginny is already the life of the party, stumbling around and singing off-key to a Celestina Warbeck classic. 

The air is hot and sticky, clearly evidenced by the prickle of sweat developing on Hermione’s forehead. It’s quickly apparent that even with so many partygoers pressing in all around her, she still feels alone, as ridiculous as that sounds. 

At least until Ron appears out of nowhere, as if he’s just apparated straight into the middle of the drawing room. It’s a possibility, but it would be an impressive feat for someone holding two drinks in his hand. He thrusts one cup in Hermione’s direction.

Her nose wrinkles as she catches a strong whiff of cheap whiskey. “What is this?”

“It’s a drink,” he yells over the music, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You look like you need one more than anyone else here.”

She knows exactly what he means without needing to go into more detail. Loosen up, Hermione. You’re too proper. 

A heavy sigh leaves Hermione’s lips, but she takes the drink he offers. “Thanks. Great party.”

Ron cups a hand around his ear, leaning closer. “What did you say?" 

"Nevermind,” she shouts, just as her gaze falls on a man standing across the room, waving both hands in their direction. “I think Dean is looking for you.”

He follows Hermione’s point, snorting when he spots Dean and Seamus gesturing to the pyramid display of flipped over plastic drinkware set for another round of the wildly popular House Cup. Before jetting off, Ron’s fingers close over her arm. “Will you stay?”

The urgency displayed in his eyes warms Hermione’s cheeks. She falters, but agrees. “I’ll stay.”

Making such a promise turns out to be a hard one to keep. Apart from frequent check-ins by Ron, she keeps to herself. While her time at Hogwarts was great—fantastic, really—the best memories she has are with Ron and Harry, navigating their classes and gorging themselves on monthly Hogsmeade trips. 

Many of her classmates once spread rumors that she was in a love triangle with Ron and Harry. It was absolutely absurd! None of them had ever crossed that line. Can’t men and women be just friends without any romance brewing? She was there for Harry as he sorted out his feelings for Ginny and helped him come up with a solid plan to tell Ron, which turned out to be not so solid, but Ron got over it eventually. The boys were also there for her when she got her heart broken by Viktor Krum—well, more so Harry. Although Ron used to worship the Bulgarian Seeker, he is always in a foul mood nowadays whenever the subject of Viktor is broached. That particular period of Hermione’s life is now hidden away in the Forbidden Forest of conversational topics. 

Throw Lavender Brown in that forest too, but no need to go into detail there. 

Regardless of her close friendship with Ron and Harry, she’s now surrounded by many people who have better relationships with the boys than anyone else ever did with her. 

Is that Hermione’s fault? Did she not socialize enough at school? Sure, she took her studies seriously and spent more time in the library than on the Quidditch pitch, but Ron and Harry did their part to remind her to take breaks long enough to have some fun from time to time. 

The thought consumes her, enough to crave more breathing space. Hermione scans the olive green walls that seem to be caving in on her, looking for an escape. She locates the grand staircase at the end of the hall, which spurs a new idea. Of course! Harry recently converted one of the bedrooms upstairs into a library. She’ll take a short perusal through the stacks and then return to the party afterward, refreshed and ready to mingle. 

Once she navigates through her schoolmates and reaches the landing at the top of the stairs, her attention goes over the banister to the people down below. Hermione catches a flash of ginger hair in the entrance hall and meets Ron’s gaze. His brows furrow as she ascends the stairs, as if he has been keeping his eye on her the whole time. 

Oh well. He can follow me if he wants.

Hermione continues on her path until she reaches the library, jiggling the rusty doorknob until it creaks open. The darkly-lit room has a faint, musty scent of wood, and she could sneeze from the amount of dust clouding the air. Harry really needs to tidy up the place. 

Yet she could still spend hours in this dark corner, looking for hidden treasures or important insights. Harry’s bookshelf, she soon discovers, leaves much to be desired. It’s mostly filled with miscellaneous titles, such as Charm Your Own Cheese, and a stack of old periodicals, like the Sunday Prophet and Which Broomstick. The real eyebrow raiser though has to be his copy of 12 Fail Safe Ways to Charm Witches. Was that one a Ginny purchase?

And not a single one of their textbooks from school! 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to hide out here all night.”

Hermione grins despite the disruption, knowing that Ron would follow her. His curiosity always wins in the end. After setting one of the books back onto the shelf, she turns to find him leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. 

Taking a step forward, she goads, “I didn’t realize I needed a security guard to keep a watchful eye over me.”

Ron’s eyes twinkle. “Did you just label me as a security guard? That’s a bit insulting.”

“Says the Auror with a massive ego—which proves my point, honestly.”

It’s amazing how their banter is doing wonders to re-energize her. Getting into a compelling argument is the only strategy that really works to keep her mind off her present situation. And for that, Ron is the best partner.

“And furthermore,” she continues before he has a chance to contend her claim, “it’s clear that you managed to lose your game of House Cup, seeing as how you have nothing better to do than to visit me in a library—of all places to find the likes of Ron Weasley!”

Ron’s eyes narrow as he takes a slow step in her direction. “Why are you picking a fight right now?”

“I’m not.”

I am. 

“You are, and it usually means you are avoiding something.”

All these years of knowing Ron Weasley, and she had somehow forgotten how well Ron Weasley knows her.

“Are you deflecting?” He continues, not loosening up on his interrogation tactics. “Is this still about our conversation from earlier? Please tell me you at least got some rest when you went home.”

“Rest, maybe. Actual sleep, definitely not.”

His lips press into a firm, thin line. She hates when he gets concerned. Ron is so fussy and determined and stubborn. The minute he sniffs out a problem with her, he gets all bent out of shape until he solves it. 

“Have you taken any Dreamless Sleep? I don’t recommend extended use of that stuff, but if you need something to give you a little push—”

Hermione holds back the urge to roll her eyes, not interested in hearing a list of solutions that she’s already worked through herself. “Tried it. Didn’t work.”

“How about seeing a Healer at St. Mungo’s?”

After two days of minimal to no sleep, it was the first place she went. “They say I’m perfectly healthy and there are no physical indicators as to why I’m not sleeping.”

“Well, have you tried counting Hippogriffs?”

Hermione’s forehead crinkles at the absurdity of his suggestion. “What?”

“You know, as the saying goes?” Ron waves a flippant hand. “Don’t Muggles count to one hundred in their head using some sort of quantifier? Like Chocolate Frogs?”

“It’s sheep, actually.” Hermione covers her mouth, stifling a giggle. 

“Even better!” Ron gives an exaggerated head roll when she doesn’t react. "Well, I think it would be fun.”

She really can’t think of something she’d rather do less, honestly. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Ron taps his chin, giving this unauthorized role of being her Healer for the day a considerable amount of thought. “Have you tried keeping your room dark and cool?”

“Always.”

“Ear plugs?”

“It’s almost too quiet.”

“White noise charm in your room?”

“Doesn’t work.”

Ron’s shoulders sag as he slumps back against the wall, blowing out a steady stream of air that removes a stray ginger curl out of his eyes. “Of course you’ve bloody tried everything.”

Hermione releases a frustrated groan before sprawling herself out on the black velvet chaise in the corner of the room. Ron follows her, nudging her boots hanging off the edge of the furniture.

“Budge up.” 

“Fine,” Hermione grumbles, lifting her legs up long enough for Ron to slide in. He lowers her legs down over his lap. 

“Well, you just recently transferred from Care of Magical Creatures to the Law Enforcement Department.” He squeezes her ankles in a supportive manner. “Give yourself some time to sort it all out. You’re probably just in your head too much.”

The longer Hermione goes without so much as a power nap, the less convinced she is that Ron’s theory is true. 

She flops a hand over her eyes and allows a small yawn to escape her. Where did that come from? “I’m actually pretty tired right now.”

“Good. Sleep.”

Although she can feel her consciousness ebbing away, the universe must have a twisted sense of humor because all Hermione wants to do is continue talking to Ron. She needs to convince him that she will be just fine, and that she will figure out a solution on her own. 

Still, her eyelids flutter closed as she allows the world to fade to black.

–

A blazing ray of sunlight filters through Hermione’s eyes. The tingling sensation in her hand indicates that it must still be heavy with sleep, and her eyes shift to find the culprit. 

Ron.

The last visual she can recall is him sitting next to her on the chaise. Now he’s sprawled across the length of the seat, squashed in between her and the backrest. It’s also very likely that she’ll fall flat on her face given the precarious position she is now resting in, much in thanks to Ron’s body taking up most of the available space. 

Her legs and feet dangle off the edge of the chaise, and the lack of proper pillow support has her head tilted downward towards the floor. She’s even got sore limbs and a kink in her neck to prove it.

Wait, is it morning?

Hermione gasps, making a quick attempt to sit up, but she can’t move with the weight of Ron’s arm curled tightly around her waist. 

What in the world—

“Ron, wake up,” she hisses, nudging an elbow back to poke him in the ribs.

“Mmm…no.” Ron sniffs the air, shaking his head down into her curls that are splattered across his face. “Not the spiders, Mum.”

Hermione holds back her laughter, giving him a rougher shake. “Wake up, Ron!”

He groans, an action that only pulls her tighter against his chest. The pressure steals a significant amount of air from her lungs. “Ron, oomph, I can’t breathe!”

“What?” He finally croaks, his eyes clouding over in a sleep-filled haze. “Hermione? Wha—oh, fuck, sorry!”

Unfortunately Ron’s sudden realization of their positioning doesn’t fare too well for Hermione, who tumbles to the ground with a squeak as he releases his hold on her. It’s sheer luck that her forearms break her fall, preventing her from actually landing on her head. 

Ouch. That’ll leave a bruise later. 

“Shit!”

Hermione rolls her eyes, huffing stray pieces of hair out of her face. “Language, Ron!”

“Fu—er, I’m sorry, Hermione. I didn’t know…wait, is it morning?”

She clammers to her feet, rolling out her wrists. Glad you’re catching up, Ron. “We must’ve fallen asleep.”

Ron nods, letting out a yawn and stretching his arms above his head. “That’s good though, right? Looked like you needed the rest.”

A throat clears, alerting Hermione to another occupant in the room. Harry stands in the doorway clad in his pajamas and full of messy bedhead, squinting his eyes through his glasses. 

“Blimey, I thought you two had left. I saw the light on when I was walking to the loo.”

Hermione meets Ron’s gaze, both sets of their eyes widening.  “Uhm, actually we were just chatting. Must have lost track of time,” she manages to get out through shaky breaths. 

Harry’s eyes dart between both of them, appearing unconvinced. “All night?”

“Yeah.” Ron’s gaze remains fixed on Hermione, a slight twinkle in his eye. “All night.”

Hermione’s fists clench into two tiny balls at her sides. If Harry had shown up just mere moments earlier, he would have found them asleep together. What could he have possibly imagined then?

“You do realize it’s morning now?” Harry continues on with his line of questioning. 

Ron tilts his head towards the window in the room. “Worked that out for ourselves, thanks.”

“Got to be honest, Ginny was pretty miffed when she thought you two left without saying goodbye.” Harry crosses his arms, a devilish grin curling onto his face. “Wait until she sees that you’re still here!”

“I’ve got to go actually,” Hermione blurts out. There is no possible universe in which she will stick around long enough for Ginny to take the mickey out of her over this. “Crookshanks needs his breakfast and he’s a right terror whenever it’s late.”

Ron harrumps. “Bloody cat. Want me to see you home, Hermione?”

“I can get myself there, thanks.” With a brief wave at both of the boys, she exits the room in a hurry before either of them can see her flushed cheeks. 

She fell asleep. She fell asleep.

And it was all because of Ron Weasley.

[sionnaach]

Trigger warnings for drug and alcohol use, a lot of swearing, and death (and dying. and dying. and dying)

Here it is. The Russian Doll AU

(or at least the first chapter)

--

Someone is knocking on the bathroom door.

Nico stares at his reflection in the mirror.

He’s twenty-five today. He’s managed twenty-five whole rotations around the sun, by some miracle, or divine intervention by whatever God(s) that enjoy watching the relative shitshow that is his life. According to Piper, the frontal lobe finishes developing at this age, but Nico doesn’t feel any different, any more mature than he had yesterday, or the day or week or year before that.

Same old Nico, for better or for worse.

The music is muffled behind the closed door, and he isn’t sure what song is playing, but it’s loud and heavy and he’s glad that there is at least something to his taste at this party that his friends insisted on throwing for him. In his (Piper’s) apartment.

The knocking continues.

He sighs and washes his hands before leaving.

A girl he doesn’t recognise glares at him when he opens the bathroom door, shouldering past him and slamming it shut behind her. Rolling his eyes, he makes his way to the kitchen, passing groups of people he doesn't know or can't be bothered remembering who are all wishing him a happy birthday, placing errant hands on his shoulder or clapping his back as he moves through the crowd. Someone hands him a shot, which he is marginally more enthusiastic about taking.

Piper grins at him from her position behind the kitchen counter, a lit joint in her hand that she begins to wave in the air like a particularly drunk conductor at his approach, her voice a lilting sing-song. “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday-”

“Piper,” Nico interrupts her singing, plucking the joint from her hand and taking a drag. “How long have we known each other?”

“About ten years?”

“And in all that time, when have I ever asked you - or anyone, for that matter - for a birthday party?”

“Never, I know, but this is different Nico. you're officially a quarter of a century. That deserves celebrating!” She reaches for the joint, whining when Nico holds it out of her reach with a wry smile. “And it was Leo’s idea.”

Leo, who was currently nowhere to be found.

“And that makes up for a bunch of strangers invading my personal space.” He grumbles, taking another hit before Piper snatches the joint out of his hands again, taking a draw herself.

“Don't be a grump, you know plenty of people. Plus! Hazel and Frank should be here soon, and Percy and Annabeth said they'd swing by at some point. You can stop pretending that you have no friends.”

There’s a loud cheer, and a voice that belongs, undeniably, to one Leo Valdez can be heard even above the music.

“Chef Leo is back in business!”

Said chef is suddenly beside him, Jason in tow, both bearing two huge platters of Leo’s “famous” tofu tacos, which they place down on the counter once Piper clears up enough free space, pushing empty beer bottles and glasses to one side.

“You’re welcome, birthday boy.” Leo says with a grin, bumping their shoulders together. “I’ll give you first pick.”

“How generous of you, Valdez.” Nico grouses, but he grabs one of the tacos anyway - they are good, even if Leo is a bit too up his own ass about his cooking ability.

“Happy birthday, Nico.” Jason says with a smile, holding out a small present wrapped in the most obnoxious wrapping paper he has ever seen (another one of Leo’s fine ideas, he’s sure.) Nico licks the taco juice from his fingers and takes the gift from him.

“Thalia said she’s sorry she couldn’t come, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

“Someone needs to open tomorrow,” Nico responds with a shrug. “We went out for a drink last week, so she already got her well wishes in.” She had also sent him a text this morning, telling him he better still be hungover when he’s back at work the day after next or she would know that he hadn’t celebrated hard enough and that she ‘hadn’t raised a quitter’.

Tattoo artists were a different breed. He should know, being one.

He waves the box, gentle to not damage the contents. “I’m gonna put this in my room, I’ll be right back.”

-

Upon leaving his bedroom, Nico comes face to face with the last person he wanted to see tonight.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

He’s still in his scrubs, evidently having arrived straight from the fucking hospital. With anyone else that fact might have been sweet, but for some reason it just serves to irritate Nico further.

Maybe it’s just Octavian being here in the first place that is pissing him off.

“Nico!” Octavian cries. (Seriously, who the fuck calls their kid Octavian? That should have been the first warning sign. But Nico was notorious for seeing red flags and running straight on by.) He flashes him that too-perfect smile. Nico glowers in response.

“Why are you here?” He snaps, not even trying to hide his annoyance.

Octavian visibly deflates at Nico’s less than warm welcome, voice faltering. “Well, it’s your birthday, isn’t it? This is your party?”

“I sure as hell didn’t invite you.”

Another knife in the wound, and Nico feels a small degree of satisfaction as Octavian’s face falls into a frown.

“Can I please just explain-” He tries again, but Nico cuts him off.

“I’m not being your fucking rebound or side-piece or whatever the fuck that whole situation was again.”

“Nico-” Octavian reaches out a hand to touch him, to grab his arm or shoulder, but Nico flinches back violently, all but baring his teeth.

“Fuck off.” he snarls, shouldering by roughly, hitting against his arm and leaving Octavian standing in the hallway.

-

He needs a break.

Or another joint. Or a lot of alcohol. All of the above.

Piper is still in the kitchen, talking to Jason. She catches the look in his eye, and immediately holds out the joint again. Nico accepts, holding it between his teeth while he also pours himself a glass of the nearest booze - an unlabeled bottle, his favourite.

He takes a hit, hands the joint back to Piper, and downs the glass in fluid succession. The alcohol is terrible, and it burns his throat, but the weed is at least starting to ebb some of his general frustration at the night.

“Who invited Octavian.”

His friends stare at him.

“No one?”

Jason sighs, pushing up his glasses to rub the space between his eyes. “I’ll get him to leave.” He squeezes Nico’s shoulder reassuringly, before heading back the way Nico came to kick out his… Ex whatever.

“I didn’t invite him.” Piper reassures him once Jason is gone, the most serious she has been all night. “I know Leo didn’t either. I’m sorry, I don’t know how he even figured out-”

Nico sighs, and pours himself another drink. After a pause, he pours one for Piper, too. “It’s fine,” he holds out the glass, and they clink them together before swallowing. “He knew it was my birthday anyway, probably just showed up. Like a fuckin’ stalker.”

“You really need to work on your taste in men.”

“Tell me about it.”

-

“I'm going to the shop.” Nico tells Piper once they’d worked their way through three quarters of the mystery alcohol.

“Oh! could you grab me a box of Marlboros, please-and-thank-you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He slips through the crowd and makes his way to the front door and grabs his leather jacket from the coat rack, pulling it on. Woolen collar aside, it's probably not warm enough to deal with the January cold, but fuck it; he has an aesthetic to uphold. Nico pats his jacket pockets, making sure he has his keys and wallet before heading out the door of the apartment.

Luckily for Nico, as a gust of frigid air hits him upon stepping onto the street and has him questioning if he really needs the booze and smokes, the nearest corner shop is only a short walk from their apartment. Walking quickly, he’s there in five minutes. The chiming of the doorbell announces his arrival, and the cashier looks up from her position at the till.

It's Lou Ellen working tonight, one of the few workers who’s name he actually remembers.

“Hey Nico,” she gives him a lazy salute in greeting, and goes back to… writing? He thinks she’s writing something. It’s hard to tell from where he’s standing.

“How's it going?” He asks, coming up to the counter, where he can see that she’s doing what appears, to his non-college educated mind, to be a college paper. He wouldn’t have been able to make sense of the formulas written on the paper if they were right side up, never mind trying to decipher them from this angle.

She shrugs, still focused on her coursework. “Same shit, different day.” She sets her pen down, returning her attention to Nico. “What you after?”

“Pack of Marlboro please, and… A bottle of Smirnoff.”

“Gotcha.” She turns to the racking behind her, plucking out a pack of cigarettes, and a bottle of vodka from a shelf that is just within her reach.

“Got your ID? Tattoos don't count.” A slight smile is pulling at her lips as she places the bottle and cigarette pack on the counter before them. The first time they had met, Nico had forgotten his ID in the apartment and had tried to use the full sleeve(!!) of patchwork tattoos that take up his left arm to convince her that he was over twenty-one, Actually, Thank You Very Much.

She hadn’t relented, and he had to make an extra twenty minute detour to retrieve said ID. Anything for alcohol.

“Yeah yeah,” he mutters, pulling his wallet from his jacket pocket and brandishing his currently useless driver's license before her. Lou Ellen, knowing full well he’s of legal age, gives it a cursory glance, enough for the cameras to believe that she was adhering to the law, before waving him off. She flashes him a grin.

“Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks.” he shrugs one shoulder, pulling out his debit card to pay.

There's a yelp, a crash and the sound of shattering glass from the other side of the shop, startling them both. “What the fuck-” he starts, as Lou Ellen groans.

“Jesus, Will-” She rounds the counter as another figure - Nico hadn't even realized there was anyone else in the shop - appears at the top of the aisle, hands raised sheepishly. He’s about their age and tall, bundled in a warm dark navy parka. Blonde curls are poking out from underneath the beanie on his head.

More importantly, he’s also hammered.

“Sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll clean it up.” Drunk Guy starts, but is cut off by a raised hand, as Lou Ellen herds him, bodily, both hands on his arms and pushing, towards the back room. That's definitely against company policy, not that Nico cares.

“Like hell you will.” She says gruffly. Glancing back over her shoulder at Nico, she throws him a withering look and inclines her head at the walking disaster before her. “Sorry, I gotta-” Nico takes the hint. All things considered, at least he’s not dealing with anything like that tonight.

“Don't worry about it. Good luck.”

“Cheers. Hope you enjoy the rest of your birthday!”

He pockets the cigarettes and grabs the bagged vodka, and with a wave in Lou Ellen’s general direction, he’s back out onto the freezing New York streets.

Nico draws his jacket tighter around himself, huddling into the fabric the best he can. Definitely not warm enough.

He pulls the box of cigarettes back out and fishes the lighter he keeps in his jacket pocket. If Piper is going to have him buying her smokes, the least she can do is share, he reasons. It takes him a minute to light the cigarette, hands going numb in the cold. He takes a drag, exhaling a puff of smoke into the air.

Someone is sitting on the street across the road. A teenager, eighteen, maybe, and he’s strumming an idle tune on the guitar in his lap. The song, and the teenager, with his mop of curly brown hair ducked so Nico can’t quite see his face, seem familiar.

The kid looks up and Nico meets his eyes. Even from this distance, he can tell they're a little too blue - but that’s definitely an after-effect of the weed. They stare at each other, and Nico can’t shake the feeling that he should know who he is.

He should probably get back to the party.

-

Usually the cold helps to sober him up, but Nico feels drunker now than when he left the apartment. Maybe the alcohol was reacting badly to the weed. He needs to get back to apartment and eat about five of Leo’s tacos to sober up a little.

In his rush to get home, he forgets to look both ways when he steps out onto the road.

There is the screech of tyres and the blaring of a car horn and suddenly he’s airborne. Nico’s entire body feels like it’s on fire. A sickening crunch as he hits tarmac, something is wet and sticky, all around him, and dark eyes are staring out at the street but not quite seeing -

-

Someone is knocking on the bathroom door.

Nico is staring at his reflection in the mirror.

[smutinlove]

ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ʙᴜʀɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ—ᴄᴀʀʟ ɢʀɪᴍᴇꜱ—chapter six: meddlesome

Chapter five: I watch as you're leaving

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

"Look at me. Come on, open your eyes." A voice softly whispered into her ear. Mae opened her eyes. She looked around for a second, feeling confused. "What?" she muttered to herself. She got up. Mae groaned. She knew she didn't hear that. And if she did, then it would go away eventually. "Don't ignore me, stupid," she heard. Mae rolled her eyes. She was imagining the voice. She didn't hear it at all. She kept telling herself. Mae felt a bit hungry. So, she decided to go downstairs. (Trying to forget the voice too.) And that's when she heard knocking on the door. "Rick!" Someone shouted. Mae's eyes widened. She was supposed to be alone at the Grimes family home. "Hello?" a voice called out. "It's Shane!" Mae's eyes widened. "Motherfucker." She muttered. Mae didn't know why, but the thought of Shane made her sick to her stomach. She walked towards the door and looked through the peephole. There stood a man, whom she knew was named Shane. She knew him as the 'probable father of Judith "Grimes." Judith looked a bit like him too. Mae rolled her eyes. Shane was a handsome man, but she didn't trust him. Even though she never talked to him, she knew he probably had sex with Carl's mom, Lori. "Carl?" She heard the man sigh loudly. "I guess there's no one home," he muttered to himself. Slowly, the man walked away. Mae let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. She felt slightly uneasy. "Look at me! Fucking notice me!" She heard the same high-pitched voice yell. Only, it wasn't a yell. Mae knew it was all in her head. And to her, she was probably going insane. But it didn't matter. Mae stepped away from the door and made her way into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed the half-empty jug of water. And she poured herself some water into a glass. She put the jug back inside and took a sip of water. "Stop ignoring me, you piece of fucking shit!" She heard. This time, the voice was louder. "Don't ignore me like you ignored Shane." And that did it for Mae. "Shut up! Just shut up!" She screamed. A face she never wanted to see appeared in front of her. "It's me, love! Elyssa Frank. But since we've known each other for so long, you can call me Ely!" "No! I don't want to call you anything! You're not real!" Mae felt rage. She didn't want to talk to anyone. Especially to something that isn't real. She didn't want to fall for her brain's tricks. She wasn't a fool. "Listen." "No. I don't think I will," she said. "Go away, Elyssa!" She yelled. And Elyssa was gone. Extinct? No. But she was gone. And now Mae could rest easy. But she had another problem. Shane. Luckily, Shane had left already. But Mae was a bit meddlesome. She was always involved in other people's business. Whether it concerned her or not. Like the time when her mother's best friend, Julia, was accused of murder, Mae solved the case in two days.

Julia didn't murder anyone. And the supposed "victim," Evan Johnson Wayne, faked his death. Why? Because Julia owed him money. And she wasn't able to pay him back. Mae was proud of herself. But then again, she wasn't. She knew that anyone could've solved that case. She wasn't Enola Holmes. Nor was she Sherlock. She was Mae. Just Mae. But this new version of Mae was better. And stronger and smarter in so many different ways. She was Mae Carter, the daughter of the cunning Edmund Carter and the graceful Willow Carter. (Sure, she heavily disliked her parents for being strict and controlling, but she was proud that she was their daughter.) She bowed her head and closed her eyes. She imagined who she'd be in the next ten years. A detective, a journalist, a model, an actress, a cashier, a reporter-and the list went on and on. But it never ended. But for today, she had one objective. That wasn't to become a detective or a journalist. But to figure out if Judith 'Grimes' was Shane's daughter and not Ricks.

[starry-hughes]

The forgetting of the anniversary is deeper and more heartbreaking

sawyer feels idiotic. she’s sitting in the restaurant quinn booked. alone. in a blue dress she paid way too much for, heels that are squeezing her feet so much that they hurt.

at first it was two minutes late. the original plan was for him to meet her there. so she ubered herself to the restaurant. and she waited. maybe he got caught at a red light or at the flower shop next door.

then it was five minutes. then ten. then twenty. she texted him twice, just to make sure nothing bad happened. “you okay?” she texted. “yeah?” he responded.

she waited two hours and twenty seven minutes before she realized she was stood up. tears pricking her eyes. on their third anniversary together, quinn hughes stood her up. he forgot.

embarrassed, she asked for the bill but it was just complimentary bread and water. she left a tip for the waiter and walked out. how could he forget her?

when she got home, she was in tears, unlocking the door and shocked to see quinn on the couch, sweatpants, an xbox controller in his hand and an empty pizza box on the coffee table.

“hey, where have you been?”

“are you kidding me?!” her loud voice shocked him, he flinched at it. never in the last three years had she yelled like that. “what are you yelling for?” his eyes scanned her outfit. “y-you stood me up.”

he was confused. what was he forgetting. it wasn’t their anniversary for another week. right? “stood you up where?”

“dinner! anniversary? i sat there for hours! waiting for you.”

“our anniversary is next week. i made the reservation…” his voice trailed off as he grabbed his phone and realized the date. “sawyer i-”

“i have been so supportive, the best i can be, i moved here for you. i came to a place i don’t know. i moved out of matthew’s house, i came here. and i know you have a lot and i know you’re busy. but i was so convinced that you would actually care enough to remember our anniversary. i left you a fucking card on the nightstand this morning!”

he remembers vaguely looking at it. skimming over the words this morning when he was half asleep. “and then i sit in the restaurant, embarrassed, stared at by random people. pity for the girl who’s boyfriend couldn’t remember to show up,” she cries. “i am under a lot of stress-”

“it’s our anniversary quinn! why would i have to remind you?” he’s silent. she is barely holding herself together when she walks away. “sawyer wait,” he follows. “i can make it up, i have the roadtrip in a couple of days but please i can make it better.”

she wipes snot from her nose, “don’t bother.”

[inawickedlittletown]

Don't Make A Shadow Of Yourself (BuckTommy fic) - 11/14

Summary: "A man who's pure of heart...may still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright" - Howl (F+TM)

BuckTommy Werewolf AU. Throughout most of his adult life, Tommy had dealt with what he was. The duality of being a man and also an animal…a beast. Werewolves weren’t born, they were made. 

Rating: M

Words: 3,588

Read on Ao3

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three

Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

-

Chapter Eleven

Buck felt a little out of sorts in the days right before the full moon. He knew it was because of his parents. Maddie had apologized for allowing them to convince her they needed to go by the station. Buck had at least managed to avoid seeing them even if Tommy had been unfortunate enough to meet them. He’d been staying with Tommy just in case they showed up at his apartment. After all, they weren’t with Maddie all the time and she could only do so much to stop them. 

Buck kinda loved being at Tommy’s house, though. Not just because it meant being with Tommy, but because he felt free. Free to run around as a wolf in the backyard and free to kiss his boyfriend and entice him into a bit more than kissing. Buck didn’t know how it was possible for him to have ignored his attraction to men for so long when Tommy took his breath away with any display of skin. 

The night before the full moon, Buck arrived to an empty house. Tommy wasn’t getting off shift until the next morning, but Buck didn’t feel weird being there on his own. It did feel a little strange to transform in the backyard without Tommy, but Buck made do. Maybe he did follow old trails of Tommy’s scent for a bit, but mostly Buck ran. He even took a small nap out on the grass and felt far more rested afterwards. He made himself dinner, and then settled in for a documentary before going to bed. 

Tommy’s scent surrounded him, coming off the pillows and off the sheets. Buck wrapped himself in it, pretended that his boyfriend was with him even if he wasn’t. He fell asleep that way and woke the next morning when the bed shifted under him and he became wrapped in strong arms. 

“Sleep,” Tommy said. “It’s early.” 

Buck drifted back, cuddling close to Tommy’s chest, burying his nose in his neck and sighing. He loved him. The thought was stray and Buck didn’t let himself linger it as he fell back asleep. 

Hours later, he woke again. Tommy was still wrapped around him and if it wasn’t for his bladder, Buck would have done anything to stay where he was. He slipped out, hoping not to wake Tommy, and when he returned, found Tommy had pulled Buck’s pillow into his arms. He really was too gorgeous for words. Cute too, for that matter. 

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep and that Tommy wouldn’t want to stay in bed for more than another hour, Buck headed down and started their breakfast. He was scrambling eggs when his phone rang. 

Buck picked it up without thinking. 

“Evan, there you are. We haven’t heard once from you since we arrived,” his mother’s voice said. 

Buck stiffened. “I’ve been busy,” he said. 

“Oh, stop that. You can’t be that busy. Though I suppose you haven’t been home anytime we tried to stop by.” 

“What do you want?” Buck asked. 

“To see you, Evan.” 

“It’s Buck,” Buck said. 

Hearing her use his name made him want to break out in hives. It sounded wrong. It wasn’t delivered with the warmth and the care that Tommy put into it and it was the only way that Buck ever wanted to hear it. 

“Oh, so you haven’t given up on that ridiculous nickname,” she said. “I was calling because Howard said he’s not on shift today.” 

“And?” Buck asked. Damn it, Chim. 

“I thought we could all have a nice lunch. Your niece misses you, Ev—Buck. Your sister needs your help with the wedding. It’s in a few days, there’s still—”

“Just because Chim isn’t working today doesn’t mean that I’m not,” Buck said. “I’m heading into work soon. I see Jee all the time and I’ve been helping Maddie with the wedding for months now so I know she doesn’t need my help. She would have asked otherwise.” 

His mom groaned and Buck knew that if he hung up it would only get worse. She might show up at the station again and this time not find Buck there because he wasn’t working. 

“Evan,” she said and Buck flinched. 

“What?” 

“It just feels like you don’t want to see us,” she said and she made her voice sound small and sad, but Buck knew her and maybe some of it was put on. 

He had no idea how to respond. He took too long, apparently. 

Her tone changed, though. 

“Well, fine,” she said. “If you don’t want to see us that’s — well, I guess we can get over that. But, there is something important you must know.” 

Buck didn’t like the sound of that at all. In the background of the call, he heard his father calling for his mother. 

“Oh, Phillip. I have Evan on the phone. I wanted to warn him. It is the full moon after all.” 

Buck’s heart caught in his throat. He knew that his hand gripped the counter so tight, he was afraid when he let it go that it would be dented even though it was granite. 

“Yes, yes. Put him on speaker. Good morning, Evan. I’m sure you weren’t even aware, but it is a full moon tonight. Your mother and I think there is a Werewolf working at your station.”

“We’re very sure,” his mother put in. “We don’t know how you didn’t notice or say anything.” 

“Oh, you know this boy, Margaret. You know how he is. Why would he notice anything right under his nose. Maddie is at least busy with the wedding and doesn’t work with one.” 

Buck gulped. He knew they hadn’t met Eddie…but they had seen Tommy and that was — they had to be talking about Tommy. Buck had no idea what to say or how to react. 

“I don’t work with any Werewolves,” Buck said. “If anyone was a Werewolf I would know.” 

His mom made a noise of protest. 

“Clearly that is not true,” his father said. “Just take our warning, Evan.” 

“Wh-what uh, what are you going to do?” 

He heard Tommy getting up in the bedroom, and he hoped that he would stay put up there until Buck could get off the phone. He was already freaking out, because from the non-answer he knew what they were thinking or planning of doing. He hoped that they hadn’t already started any kind of reconnaissance. 

“Don’t do anything,” Buck said, he knew his words were hard. 

“Evan—”

“Focus on Maddie and on the wedding. Don’t do anything,” Buck knew he probably sounded like he was pleading. 

“If you hadn’t realized it, tonight is a full moon,” his father said. “We can’t allow one of those beasts to hurt anyone. We won't.”

“So you’ll hurt someone instead,” Buck said. “With no proof that they’ve done anything wrong? You are not doing that. I won’t allow it.” 

Tommy came down the stairs. His curls were messy and he was in nothing more than shorts. At any other moment, Buck would have been distracted by seeing so much of him. 

His father was laughing. “Allow it,” he said. “That’s funny.” 

“Evan, what—”

Buck shook his hand at Tommy and lifted a finger to him as well. Tommy raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t say a word. 

“If you want to attend the wedding, you will do nothing tonight or any night that you are here. I’ve turned a blind eye to what I know you do with this cause that you’ve given yourself. No more.”

They scoffed. “You will not ruin your sisters wedding.” 

“I won’t…but if you this, you will. That is up to you,” Buck said and then he hung up. 

He dropped his phone on the counter, his hands gripped the granite and then he looked towards Tommy. Tommy was at his side at once, taking Buck’s hands. 

“They know you’re a Werewolf,” Buck said. “I’m pretty sure they’re talking about you unless they’ve stopped at the station and seen Eddie? I really should call Athena. They’re not going to do this again and I don’t care what happens to them.”

“What about Maddie?” 

Buck shrugged. “She’s either on our side, or she’s choosing to be with them.” 

Tommy pulled Buck into his arms and Buck let his weight fall on his boyfriend. He didn’t for one moment believe that Maddie would allow their parents to hurt anyone. 

Athena wouldn’t really be able to do anything. Maybe she could take them in and question them, but she wouldn’t be able to hold them without proof or without them having done anything since they’d arrived in LA. But if they did try then maybe…but Buck didn’t want it to get to that. Somehow, he didn’t think the division would take them seriously or do anything about it. 

“I think,” Tommy said, “we should spend the full moon here. Just in case.” 

As much as he itched to be out there in the woods, he did think that Tommy had the right idea. 

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll let Eddie know.” 

—

Tommy was the one that called Athena. Evan had a call with Eddie inviting him over for the night. He thought it was maybe a bit restricting for Evan and Eddie, but it also did mean they were all safer. Evan had also called Maddie and Tommy had managed to hear some of the conversation, enough to know that Maddie was going to keep their parents busy and have her own conversation with them. 

“I don’t think they’ll do anything,” Evan said.

Tommy agreed with him. Still, it put him on edge to know that they had made him when Tommy had done his very best to not give himself away. Clearly, he’d made some kind of mistake. He just didn’t know what it was that he’d done. 

“Stop beating yourself up,” Evan said. “None of this is your fault. It’s them. I don’t even know all the ways they might use to identify us.”

“But something gave me away to them,” Tommy insisted. 

“Or it’s not you,” Evan said. “They could have been suspecting Eddie since the last time they were here. Anyway, I don’t think they will try anything. Not if Maddie has them on some kind of house arrest.” 

It didn’t make him any less uneasy. Evan proved to be plenty distracting though, taking him back up to the bedroom and burning up some of their pent up energy in ways that were pleasurable to both of them. It was the best type of distraction. For a little while, they focused on each other. On just being together and feeling so good that nothing else really mattered. 

They contacted the Werewolf Division after lunch just to cover their bases and Tommy was left dissatisfied with the way they responded, as if their concern was nothing for them to worry about. When Tommy mentioned getting in touch with the police they tried to warn him off doing that because he’d be exposing all Werewolves. 

“And that makes me think they’re condoning it somehow,” Tommy said. Evan didn’t disagree. 

Tommy had every intention of figuring out why, but it wasn’t something they could get to on a full moon. But his next day off, Tommy would go right to them to see what he could find out. He felt antsy all day, perhaps amplified by the full moon. He could tell that Evan felt the same, but they both calmed down some when Eddie arrived. 

Tommy let him in and Eddie pulled him into a hug. 

“What’s all that?” Tommy asked, motioning to the bags Eddie was carrying. 

“Figured none of us were up to cooking,” he said. “Has Maddie said anything?” 

“They’re still there at the house with her and Chim,” Tommy said. “Athena put an officer at the house to tail them if they leave at all.”

Eddie followed him inside and was almost tackled to the ground when Evan threw himself at him. Tommy laughed. He’d never noticed how sometimes they still acted like they were wolves when they were in human form. Big giant human puppies. 

“I feel better with you here,” Evan said to Eddie. “Don’t need to worry.” 

Tommy felt the same. It was a relief to have the three Werewolves of their pack together. It was just as it needed to be. 

By the time they ate through some of the Mexican food Eddie had brought them, the three of them were ready for the moon to appear in the sky, so they headed outside a bit early. Evan kept texting his sister and Howie, but it seemed like the Buckleys were actually listening to what their kids wanted, at least for the moment. 

Evan was the first to transform. Tommy immediately crouched down to pet him and somehow, he wound up sitting on the ground with Evan on his lap. Eddie dropped down next to him. 

“He told you about his parents,” Eddie said.

Tommy nodded. 

“I thought I had it bad,” Eddie said. “Buck’s had it worse.” 

Evan didn’t react, even though he could hear them. He just dropped his head against Tommy’s stomach and Tommy let his hands go down to his stretched neck. 

“I just don’t understand Maddie putting him in this position,” Tommy said. 

He’d been interested in Eddie’s opinion most of all, to know how the other Werewolf in this pack viewed the whole thing. Eddie didn’t speak for what felt like a long time. 

“It’s family, is the thing,” Eddie said. “I don’t think Maddie even realizes what she’s doing because they just have such different relationships with them. But I don’t think Maddie would hesitate to do anything to protect Buck.”

“What you’re saying is the wedding is going to be interesting,” Tommy said. 

Eddie laughed. “Sure will. Probably should shift now.” 

Eddie got up and walked over to the table. Tommy heard him discard his clothes and then the next time he saw Eddie, he was on four legs and covered in fur. Tommy lingered a little longer with Evan on his lap, but eventually he nudged him off to a wolfy huff. Eddie distracted him in the next moment with a gentle nudge. When Tommy joined them, they were already halfway across the yard, play fighting. 

It was nice to have them both there in his space. Eddie barked at him and Tommy ran towards them. They played a game of tag and as the sky darkened they all seemed to relax more and more. They ran and they lounged and Evan and Eddie play-wrestled. They fell into a puppy pile after a while and Tommy was so comfortable that he actually let himself fall asleep. 

The next thing he knew was a loud sound, like something crashing or breaking. He immediately lifted his head and he felt Eddie and Evan come to as well. 

Tommy extracted himself from the pile of limbs, he knew instinctively that something was wrong, but the last thing he wanted was to move away from Evan or Eddie. When Eddie met his eyes, he could see confusion and worry there too. 

Maybe it was nothing. Tommy hadn’t heard anything since the crash and that could have come from the house next door or any other source that was unrelated to them. The three of them stood close together and didn’t relax for several minutes. Evan was the first to sit, but it didn’t change how tense they all were. 

Tommy nudged into Evan’s side, taking in his scent. He still smelled good, but the underlying worry was there too. Tommy didn’t think any of them would relax until morning came even though they were in Tommy’s yard and the house was locked down at the front and the physical fence and tree fence kept them hidden. 

Except that of course, that’s when Tommy heard footsteps at the front of the house. Evan pushed into his side. Eddie paced forward and back, glancing at them. Then came another crash and the fence shook. 

Panic went through him. Tommy was not the type of person that panicked, he had the type of job that required he was good in high stress situations, but nothing could have prepared him for this. 

The fence shook again. 

—

Buck wished, not for the first time, that he could communicate with Eddie or Tommy while transformed. It was so absolutely unfair that he couldn’t do much more than brush against Tommy in some solidarity because he had absolutely no doubt that it was his parents. 

Eddie made a motion with his head towards the house and Buck got his meaning at once. He followed Eddie and Tommy moved with them. Eddie was right, they’d be better off closer to the house than out in the middle of the yard. 

The next few minutes were tense. No noise. No movement. It was silent. Until it wasn’t. 

Buck knew the door to the fence had been broken, he heard the wood splinter and the sound of the hinges bending. A moment later there came footsteps. The three of them didn’t dare to move. 

The first person to come around the house was all in black, they were followed by someone else also in full black. They weren’t his parents, that Buck knew for sure. They didn’t smell like them or even walk like them. They were still definitely hunters and there for one reason and one reason only. He watched them as they walked onto the yard in small steps, glancing around. Behind them came two other people and those two were definitely his parents. Buck hadn’t known how betrayed it would make him feel to actually see them there.

The three of them stayed close to the house, hidden in the shadows the house offered. Buck couldn’t look away from the hunters. Four of them and Buck had questions about where his parents had found the two that entered first. He wondered if there were more. 

Eddie nudged him, pointing with his nose towards the side of the house. He wasn’t wrong. The door was open and they could leave, run as far as they could. The hunters were looking for them in the yard, but they would turn to the house soon enough and spot them. Their luck was how dark it was out and maybe their speed. Confrontation was not their friend. But that would only work if they hadn’t left any other hunters out there. Buck couldn’t hear anyone, but that wasn’t saying much. 

Buck nudged Eddie back, and Eddie began to walk right alongside the house. Tommy nudged at Buck to follow, so he did. He knew Tommy was right behind him. Eddie was slow, and Buck followed his lead. He turned to look back when he could. He couldn’t see them and their footsteps were faint and came from everywhere in the yard. Eddie turned the corner, tail tucked between his legs. Buck followed, so he was the one that noticed the fifth hunter right before he hit Eddie on the head, knocking him sideways into the house. 

Buck reacted, jumping past Eddie at the hunter, throwing him to the ground. His paws landed on the man’s chest, pressing in and ripping through his dark shirt, his whole weight on him, though apparently in wasn’t enough. In the next moment he heard the bang of a gun.

His side burned. 

He couldn’t hear more than the ringing. 

He scented blood. Tommy. Eddie. Under him the movement of a body, of the hunter that shot him. 

Buck didn’t even realize he was growling, or that his claws had already drawn blood from the hunter’s arm, that the gun had fallen because of it. Buck had no idea what damage he’d inflicted and he didn’t care. The man was squirming, making noises that didn’t make much sense to Buck. He was pushing at Buck with his good arm. Kicking. Buck ignored the pain at his side, leaning down and ready to tear his throat apart. 

Tommy was there, suddenly and Buck was pushed to move. Buck did and he felt the pain on his side as the skin stretched with his movement. A whimper escaped him and he could feel the warmth of his blood. The bullet hadn’t him dead on, Buck could tell that much at least. He tried to pay the wound and his pain no mind, but it was as overwhelming as the continuing ringing in his ears. Where was Eddie?

Buck turned. He’d seen him go down, right? Hadn’t he? 

Tommy’s mouth, his muzzle was blood soaked. The man on the ground had thrown his head back in a scream that Buck could sort of make out past the ringing in his ears. 

And there…Tommy had Eddie. He was pulling at Eddie by the scruff, and Eddie came to his feet. He looked more disoriented than Buck felt. He hadn’t been shot had he? But Buck had only heard one shot, but if the bullet didn’t go in him then… 

Now, he heard footsteps. They had to hurry. 

Eddie was shoved in his direction and Tommy was pushing them towards the broken door. It hung half-in the way, but Buck climbed over it. He could still feel his side burning. Eddie stumbled over it after him. Then came Tommy and after him running footsteps. 

Buck heard another shot ring out. 

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Moodboard by @softhecreator

Don’t Blame My English Blood For This American Heartache

Chapter Seven: Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

AO3 info prologue one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve

All my work is 18+.

You don’t know what you do to me in the dark. With nights like these, who needs the days?- All Time Low, Dark Side of Your Room

Late November, 1984

Hogsmeade, Scotland

Dearest Sera,

I offer you my congratulations on your courtship. Lord Black has been quite taken with you since your debut, and I’m pleased to hear you have chosen to accept his offer. 

A match with him will be most advantageous, and he’s a lovely young man. He’ll be a good husband to you, I believe. 

I must confess the Manor feels rather empty without your presence; I look forward to your return next month.

Affectionately,

Ursa Malfoy Abbott

“I’m supposed to go back,” she giggled, her hands in his hair as he kissed her neck.

He pressed her more firmly against the tree, a Notice Me Not charm concealing them from anyone who might venture into the woods near Hogsmeade. “I’d rather we continue snogging.”

“We shouldn’t,” she breathed, but then he slipped a hand under her coat, sliding it up her side to skirt her breast. She inhaled sharply, and then he slid a leg beneath her corduroy skirt and between her thighs, pressing it against her core. “Oh, Regulus—“

“That’s it, darling,” he murmured in her ear, rubbing his leg against her. “Say my name.”

“Regulus,” she exhaled, rolling her hips to grind against his leg. 

“Will you cum for me, sweetheart?” he rasped, rubbing at her more insistently. “Been thinking about making you cum for months, love, c’mon—“

They’d never gone this far before, and to do it in the middle of November seemed ridiculous, but Sera couldn’t help it. And honestly, she’d forgotten about the cold entirely with all the charms he’d cast to keep them warm. She wanted him so bad she thought she might die from it.

She rolled her hips, gasping and whimpering as he rubbed at her. He mouthed at her neck, and all she could feel, all she could smell— it was all him, all Regulus, and he was perfect.

“‘m gonna— ‘m gonna—“ she gasped, her inner muscles spasming as she neared her peak.

“That’s it, darling,” he breathed, kissing her neck softly and pressing his leg more firmly against her. “Such pretty little sounds, hm? Cum for me, baby.”

She clutched at his shoulders, her fingernails digging into the fabric of his coat, and then—

And then he pressed his knee against her, rubbing her faster, and she couldn’t have kept it in if she tried; she orgasmed with a breath that was halfway between his name and a whimper.

Slowly, Regulus lowered his leg and readjusted her coat before taking her in his arms and pulling her in close to him. He was a cocoon of warmth in the cold November air, and she sighed contentedly, nuzzling into his chest.

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked softly, rubbing her back in soothing circles.

“Mhm,” Sera hummed with a small smile. “You’re, uh… you’re really good at it.”

“I’m glad,” he murmured before leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Can you walk, sweetheart? We need to get you back to the castle before anyone notices you’re gone.”

Sera rolled her eyes, looking up at him with a smile. “The seventh year Ravenclaws sneak out like nobody’s business. It’s a Friday night; I won’t even be the last one back.”

“Ravenclaws, hm?” he hummed, pulling away from her and taking her hand in his. “Never thought the swots would bother sneaking out. I always reckoned they’d study instead.”

Sera laughed. “I guess ‘swots’ are better at sneaking out than you expected,” she said, mimicking his accent.

He smiled back at her, and they walked back to the castle gates hand in hand.

Late November, 1984

Hogwarts

Scotland

Sera knew what the Slug Club was, but she’d never been invited before. Probably because she was shit at potions, honestly.

So imagine her surprise when she received an invite to a party.

“Goddammit,” she gasped as Yarrow tightened the corset strings. “Why is it so constricting?”

“Because you have tits the size of boulders,” her friend said flatly. “I can get away with short stays, you know. It was difficult enough to get this size; I don't think I’d have wanted to go any larger.” Yarrow tied off the corset strings then, and Sera struggled to take a full breath. Her breasts were pushed damn near up to her chin, for God’s sake.

“You’ll have to tell me how you managed your transition sometime,” Sera told her friend. “It’s crazy to me that no one here objects.”

“I don’t know how Muggles handle it, really,” Yarrow admitted, “but once I knew I was a girl, that was all that was needed. I was permitted to move into the girls’ dormitories and was allowed access to the potion stores.”

Sera turned towards her friend with a smile. “I’m glad. Not everyone is so open-minded.”

“Oh, they’re closed-minded, certainly,” Yarrow said with a small laugh, “just not about that.”

Sera snorted. “Little weird that they’re so far back in time, yeah.”

Yarrow hummed and gestured to where their dresses were hanging on the bathroom door. “Come, let’s get dressed.”

Her dress was a fairly simple one in a shade of pale blue, and, as with damn near every fancy pureblood dress she’d been given, her breasts were practically bulging out of it. Though the corset didn’t help, given the fact that it just covered her from like… the nipples down.

She put on a strand of small pearls with matching earrings and examined her reflection with a sigh.

“Missing your man?” Yarrow teased.

Flushing, Sera glared at her friend and slid on her white satin shoes.

“Don’t even. Let’s go.”

The door to Ravenclaw Tower swung shut behind the pair of girls, and when Sera looked up, only to see none other than her boyfriend standing there, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. 

“Regulus?” she gasped, surprised. He looked up, and his face split into a grin as soon as he saw her. “What’re you doing here?” she asked.

“Slughorn occasionally invites his former students as well as current ones,” he explained. “I don’t often attend, but I wanted an excuse to see you.”

She smiled, practically jumping into his arms and burying her face in his chest.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, his free hand cupping her cheek to tilt her face up towards him. He had to stoop over when he kissed her, but he did it anyway.

“Disgusting,” Yarrow teased from behind her.

Regulus pulled away from Sera and addressed the younger girl with a drawling, “Miss Rosier, always a pleasure.”

Sera looked over her shoulder at her friend. “Oh, shut up.”

“Come along now, darling,” Regulus said with a kiss to her hair. “I don’t much care if I’m late, but I’d hate to see your reputation suffer for it.” He offered her his arm, and she accepted it, looking up at him with a smile, and they were on their way, Yarrow following close behind. “You look exquisite, by the way.” He glanced down at her breasts. “Why don’t you let me have a dress made for you for the ball, hm?”

“The Christmas ball?” she clarified.

He nodded. “You’re lovely in anything, of course, but I quite like the idea of you wearing something I got bought for you.”

She blushed, looking down at her shoes peeking out from under her skirt as she walked. “Yeah, alright.”

“You two are disgusting,” Yarrow pointed out.

“Shut up,” Sera bristled, her blush intensifying.

Regulus just laughed.

“Ah, Regulus, my boy!” Mr. Slughorn exclaimed in delight when they walked through the door to his office. “So good to see you. And Miss Malfoy, always a delight. What a pair you make! Should I expect a wedding invitation after Miss Malfoy graduates?”

Sera choked and coughed. Regulus, however, glanced down at her with a smile and pulled her closer. “If she agrees when I ask her.”

Mr. Slughorn chortled. “I’m quite certain she will!”

Sera flushed. It was just red-faced day, wasn’t it? Ugh.

“We should get out of here,” he murmured in her ear, his hand on her knee as they sat in a secluded corner of Mr. Slughorn’s office.

“And why is that?”

“So I can snog you senseless, of course.”

She giggled. “Where would we even go for that?”

He paused, considering this for a moment. “I honestly can’t be arsed about where we go so long as I get to put a few bruises on your neck.”

“Regulus!”

“Please, darling? Your tits are coming right out of your dress; I need to squeeze them—and kiss them, if you please—at least a little bit, and I can’t do it here—“

“No.”

He groaned miserably. “My suffering is eternal.”

Sera rolled her eyes. “Of course it is.”

First bit of sexiness 👀 sorry for the wait; was watching Tim’s SNL episode with the discord girls

As always, big thanks to @lilmaymayy for betaing!

Tag list:

@ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @leespparker @bubblebuttwade @glizzymcguirex @starberry-cake @camille-1019 @lixzey @shycreationdreamland @gossamer19

To be added, please ask 💗

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Twenty One.

Thank you so much to everyone for your commitment to the story, as usual! Happy Friday, guys. Enjoy! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,946

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

“I’m so bored.”  

As was Adrien of hearing his wife chime those three words over and over. He could hardly blame her for it, though, and so thus took it with good nature, knowing that it had to be tough for somebody who kept herself so busy to be rendered incapacitated. After being allowed to go home, they’d spent a week at the apartment in Manhattan before Jade felt well enough to fly. Now she’d been returned upstate for the last week and four days, she was rapidly tiring of being confined to a bed for the most part. 

Her healing was estimated to take twelve weeks from the point of the incident, and they were currently at week eight, with her not allowed to do anything physically demanding, given the instruction to rest as much as possible.  

“What are you even doing out of bed, Moo?” He pointed in the direction of the kitchen door, circling his finger. “Back upstairs, go.” 

“No. I want cheese and I want to sit in the sun while I eat it. I physically can’t lie in a bed for that long unless I have you on top of me, and I can’t even do that for another two weeks. Even though I feel fine, my breathing is normal, my wounds are all healed, but no! I’m being treated like heirloom glass when really, I want to be shagged into the tail end of next week!”  

She’d specifically asked her godmother that, Lucy dying laughing, calling her a horny reprobate. ‘Ten weeks, and then light exertion will be fine. No sexual gymnastics!’  

Walking over to him, she pulled his head down to her level, kissing him, his lips, his nose, and the crinkles that dented his forehead as he frowned. “Sitting, that's all. My eyes hurt from reading, and I’ve binged all ten seasons of Friends in the last two weeks. I need a change of scenery.” 

He made a soft growl. “Fine.” 

“Yes, it is, because you’re not going to boss you around, or I’ll bite you, you bugger.” His pec was chomped upon softly, Adrien shaking his head. 

“That isn’t much of a threat, baby.” Kissing his chest, she hugged him tightly before moving to the fridge, ready to raid the order she’d had delivered from the small deli in the nearest village. It held a surprisingly good selection, little slices of each taken, Jade adding crackers and grapes to the plate she carried outside to enjoy under the summer sun with a glass of wine.  

“That little area over there is entirely too empty,” she spoke, crunching through a cracker while pointing at the little patch of land beneath the trees where the chickens were meant to be.  

It was, he had to agree. “How about once you’ve finished your snacks, we take a drive down to the farm shop and bring a few home?” Perhaps he was being a little too precious with her, he had to concede. Their local farm shop and feed store was only a twenty-minute drive away, Adrien knowing they were running low on horse food, so having to organise that anyway, they might as well.  

It was necessary too, now Mia had finally arrived from Austria five days before. Jade had been annoyed beyond words that he’d told her a firm no over doing a ten hour round trip to JFK in order to bring her back upstate, but he’d had help in the form of Rachel, who had offered to come along, knowing considerably more about horse care than him. He’d needed somebody who knew how to load a steed onto a horse truck properly, how to put the travel boots on, bandage her tail, tie her up properly, all of which his sister-in-law could probably do in her sleep, she was so adept. 

Her head shot up like a meerkat, eyes rounding a little. “Really? You’re allowing me to leave the house?” 

“You make me sound like your captor, Burtie,” he scoffed, receiving a cheeky eyebrow raise. 

“Kinda missing being tied up and defiled.”  

He groaned softly, closing his eyes for a moment. “Don’t. Now I’m not so scared to remember I have a high libido, believe me, my hand ain’t cutting it.”  

Oh, the flicker she felt between her thighs. “You should let me watch that.”  

“Never quite works though, does it? Not with either of us trying to play the captive audience. We get to about a thirty seconds and dive on the other.” That was true enough. The only time they’d ever been able to successfully watch one another masturbate was when they’d done it over Skype while apart. 

“I’ve got in it my head now. Fucks sake,” she groaned, taking a large gulp of wine, crossing her legs tightly with a huff that had him shaking with soft laughter. 

“Two weeks, my baby. Two weeks and I will fucking ruin you.” Pausing, his smile began to widen, chuckling. “For about a minute and half, but damn, it’ll be the best minute and a half of your life!”  

Laughing, she leaned against him, stroking his thigh as he kissed the top of her head. Laughter was medicinal in the wake of what had happened to her, so close to losing her life right there on her own driveway. It had hit her in waves after waking to be filled in on the gaps in her memory, the magnitude of being so close to death. What had affected her most was when her darling Katie had told her it had taken her an hour to bleach off the blood stain from the front drive, she’d been crying so hard, but wanting it gone before either she or Adrien had arrived back to see it there.  

It hadn’t just impacted her, the knock-on effect of her attack leaving her loved ones terrified and her husband with the kind of blood pressure level that had taken days to come back to a normal reading, so her dad had confided. Her poor mother hadn’t slept for longer than a few hours every night immediately after.  

Adrien had thought she wouldn’t want to sue the care facility, but she’d very much proven otherwise. Their legal team had hit them with a suit for gross negligence, Jade stating that if that was how lax they were that a patient with murderous intentions could so easily escape, then truly, they needed to face the consequences of such. After all, what if anyone had gotten in her way prior to her arriving in Cleveland? Would they likely have met the same fate, but perhaps not quite been so lucky? What the hell were the people looking after her thinking, too, allowing a woman who had likely shown such dangerous intentions to remain in such a low security facility?  

As Adrien pulled his truck from the drive out onto the road, she thought about it again, a little shiver running through her. Of course, he noticed, seeing her close into herself a little. “You okay, baby love?” 

“Yeah, ish,” she confessed. “It’s a hard thing to reconcile, my home being the place I always feel so safe, but now the location of where I was the farthest from that. Don’t panic, I’m not about to say I want to move or anything. That mental cunt won’t drive me from my home. It’s just a bit weird right now.” 

Reaching for her, he squeezed her thigh, feeling her hand cover his, her little finger stroking over his knuckles. “Give it time, I think that’s all you need. Also, look at it differently, perhaps? I’m not trying to minimise what happened to you, but if you look at it as the place you survived rather than the alternative, that might be a better perspective going forward.”  

She loved that about him, how she could see a situation strictly from one viewpoint, but he would usually find a way to see it completely opposite, with credible validity. “I never thought of it like that before, baby. You’re right, though. Thank you. Love you.” 

“Love you, too, Moo.”  

As soon as they arrived at the farm shop, Lyn, the woman who had run it for almost twenty years with her husband Ray came out from behind the counter, the dear old lady opening her arms wide with a huge smile. “Hello, sweetheart. Oh, it’s great to see you looking so well! How you feeling, hmm?” 

“Pretty good, actually. Mr. B over there isn’t letting me do much at all, so I’ve had plenty of rest. I can breathe properly again without having to rely on oxygen, which is a bonus. You’re very kind to ask,” she replied, gently clasping her forearms as they parted.  

Shaking her head, she touched a gentle hand to her cheek. “How anybody would want to hurt such a dear soul as you, my love. We’ve had it all up here, you know! Journalists, photographers coming up to grab something to eat. Ray and I pass by you guy’s place every morning on our way in, and we saw them all waiting in their cars for pictures! Damned parasites. I told them I had nothing to say when they asked for comment, other than how sad I was that something so awful happened to such a nice girl.” 

Oh yes, they’d been sitting in wait to get photographs of her upon her arrival at home. “I appreciate that, Lyn. Anyway, I’m here to fill my chicken coop and spend an obscene amount in the shop. As a first-time chicken owner, I’d appreciate your advice on the former.” 

She nodded, walking her round to the area the birds were housed in. “Plymouth Rock hens are good first chicken. Friendly, unfussy and they lay well. Orpingtons and Rhode Island Reds are great choices, too, all of which we have. How big is your space, hon?” 

After a few more details were exchanged, three of each chicken breed were chosen, Lyn providing travel cages to be run back up the day after, leaving Adrien and Ray to load the chickens onto the truck and Jade to go and fill a couple of baskets of produce within the shop. Once that had been bought, the required horse and chicken feed, too, they headed home, ready to introduce the birds to their brand-new habitat.  

“That red over there? I’m naming her Marge,” Jade spoke, pointing at one of the three Rhode Island’s. “Listen to her! That’s the same noise Marge Simpson makes when she’s annoyed.”  

He coughed softly. “You do that, too.” 

“Don't you dare let this be another nickname that enters your little repertoire,” she warned, watching him shake with laughter as he wrapped his arm around her. 

“Of course not, Marge.”  

Her side eye was delivered with lethal intent. “I will cock punch you.”  

His laughter boomed so loudly, the chickens spooked, all running for the safety of the hen house with a little flurry and some disgruntled noises. “Now look what you did, making me scare the chickens because of your empty threats.” 

“It wasn’t empty,” she warned, balling her fist. 

“Sounds like somebody doesn’t want to get laid sooner rather than later.”  

“Oh, and you’re really going to give it to me sooner, hmm? Mr only let me out of the damned house for the first time today, when I’m still two weeks away from being able to heavy breathe?”  

He raised his eyebrows rapidly, looking smug. “Might have given you a gentle banging, but now, with this little display of funky assed attitude? Nah. You can wait.”  

Her husband. God, he was insufferably contrary when he put his mind to it. “Fine. Just know I’ll be upstairs with my favourite vibrator. Let that information marinade.” Slapping him on the bum, she walked back to the house. She wasn’t even halfway through the door before she found him draped around her, lifting her into his arms and carrying her upstairs. “So, best minute and a half of my life, huh?” 

“Stop it,” he laughed, reaching the top of the stairs and turning right, walking down to their bedroom. “Don’t jinx me.” 

“So, what’s different? You’ve been treating me like I’m subject to breakages up until a few hours ago, and now all that’s changed?” she teased, knowing she was being a menace, but not able to fight giving a little back. 

Laying her on the bed, he grumbled at her mildly infuriating riposte, pulling his t shirt off before joining her, hands grasping the straps of her dress and pulling them down. “The fact that I’m only human. And... well... you’ve seen yourself. How the hell am I supposed to keep my hands off someone so gorgeous for twelve weeks? Ten is fine, but just tell me if it isn’t, alright?” 

Her lung could have burned with all the heat of a thousand suns, and she would have kept that to herself, feeling her need for her husband smoulder with the same ferocious heat. He discarded her dress and underwear rapidly, mouth anchoring to hers with a soft grunt, hands softly kneading her bare breasts. How he loved it when she didn’t bother with underwear, his touch skimming down her sides.  

The feel of two, then three little ridged scars beneath his touch prickled him emotionally, his lips following the glide of his hands, pressing kisses, sucking her nipples in turn, his mouth veering right to kiss upon the healed wounds that had almost taken her from him. She knew what he was doing, and how she loved him for it, showing her it didn’t matter to him that her body now came with flaws; he still desired her just the same as he always had.  

Where she craved to feel those kisses, to her delight he did not hesitate in arrival, pushing her thighs apart and burying his mouth between them, ten weeks of longing for her unravelling as his tongue slithered through her slit. He brought those licks against her clit, hungrily tasting her, his mouth eager in its repeated rolling over her bud as she sighed in gratification of him returned so intimately to her.  

Sliding over the little swell of her clit once more, he sent fire roaring through her, a blade of pleasure slicing to her very bones as she shook, the tip of his tongue skimming dewy pink nerve endings, his thumb pulling back the soft skin covering her bundle, making way for his lips to suck gently. Sparks fizzed right down to her marrow, the flush of ecstasy evoked by his mouth ever escalating, her body host to spasmodic judders as he caressed her dewy slit with all the fervour of a man half parched.  

“Fuck, oh god, baby. You’re gonna make me come so hard!” she wailed, hands fisting the grey linen below as she trembled, crested and burned hard against the fire of his mouth. While those divine licks gentled against her, he reached to unfasten his jeans, pushing and kicking himself out of them, kissing his way back to her mouth, hard cock parting her walls with a soft grunt.  

He stilled, thumbs moving to stroke her cheeks, feeling a little overcome. It was a moment that might not have ever happened for them again, but there she was beneath him in their bed, pretty lips parted as she panted softly, looking up at him adoringly. Life; it was truly so precious. As was she.  

As for Jade, the desire and tenderness of the moment pulled her in, guiding his mouth to hers as their bodies began to rock together, feeling a little more restored to her usual self at finally having sexual intimacy resumed. Her nails gently dragged his back, delighting in the feel of his body pressing tight against hers, a sudden hard shunt of his hips against her sending him deep into the flutter of her cunt. 

“Missed me right here, huh?” he chuckled, watching the sated desire glitter her eyes.  

“Mmm.” she purred, stroking his face, their kisses connecting hot, “I always do when I have to go without the best cock in the world.” Every inch of him slipped into her with ease, every ridge scraping tingles over her soaking walls, hands gently kneading her breasts as his kisses moved to her neck.  

“I mean, I’ll take that,” he began, resting his forehead to hers, “but your number isn’t really high enough to know mine’s the best. Forty-two isn’t that high.” 

“Just take the bloody compliment, Brody,” she spoke, kissing him. 

“Yeah... yeah I think I will. Even though it might be vastly inaccurate.” 

“Adrien?” she questioned, an entertained smile playing her lips. “Are you being all chatty because you’re trying not to come?” 

A smidgen of embarrassment flickered across his face. Oh, he was so cute. “Yeah, maybe.” A few seconds passed. “Okay, I am. I grossly overestimated myself at a minute and a half.” Her laugh filled the bedroom, her husband rooting himself deeper in her to prevent slipping out. “Stop, that feels too good!” 

“Baby?” 

“Yep?” 

“Just come.” Holding his face in her hands, she kissed him, nuzzling away his shame. “I came already against your tongue, didn’t I? You’re fine. Just let go.” It was as he shared kisses of fiery honey with his beloved that his body shuddered hard, staccato thrusts sending him headlong into the enjoyment of lightning forking up his spine.  

“Oh god, I’ve turned into a forty seconds guy,” he panted, laughing softly as he kissed her. “Sorry.” Stroking her face, he kissed her some more, Jade laughing as she shook her head, fingers weaving into his hair.  

“Well, don’t be. I’m flattered it bothers you, though. Most guys are so selfish like that, but you never are. It’s just one of the many reasons I love you.”  

“And because I make you laugh by being an embarrassingly rapid quick draw?”  

Of course, that comment had her in soft fits. “Stop being daft, my love. Besides, there’s always later.” The grin she was met with told her loud and clear he definitely planned to redeem himself a little. Until then, they went back downstairs, taking a gentle walk around their land with the dogs while waiting for the barbecue to heat up, Jade leaving two large steaks marinading in the fridge for dinner. 

“You look thoughtful,” he spoke, turning his focus away from Brando heaving a large stick from the long grass.  

Turning to him, she smiled, but he still picked up on a trace of sadness there. “I was just thinking about the projects I’ve missed out on, because of what happened. It feels selfish, too. Really selfish. I was so lucky to survive and here I am lamenting the loss of work!”  

Tightening his arm around her, he dropped a kiss upon her head. “It isn’t selfish, it’s just you. You hate to feel like you’ve missed out on an opportunity to further yourself, naturally ambitious as you are. Okay, so you missed a couple of exciting projects, but plenty more will come your way. I don’t have to tell you that.”  

“It’s nice to hear all the same, though.” she smiled, yet still the little flicker of something not quite right remained.  

“What else is bugging you?” 

Of course, he wouldn’t let it slide. She didn’t want him to either. “Today when we went out, I felt fine, safe. You were there, but I can’t hide at my husband’s side forever, yet the thought of going out alone scares me. I know it’s ridiculous, too! She can’t get to me again. I mean blimey, watching back the CCTV from the front gate at what happened, I gave almost as good as I got, so I know I can defend myself, but still. It makes me feel nervous.” 

It was something they’d lightly argued about, a day after arriving home, Jade wanting to see the footage of her attack in an effort to remember what had happened, and Adrien not seeing it as a conducive move at all. He’d conceded in the end, though, Jade watching the feed from the office computer, wincing, but finding it helpful. It helped in so much that she witnessed how she’d fought her attacker hard, even if she didn’t remember much. 

“I think that’s natural,” he began, turning to see Atlas running from the trees whilst dragging along a large branch. Always branches with that dog. “Put it down! Atlas, no. That’s too big.” The dog gave it a shake with a playful grown before releasing it, the four canines hurtling off again together. “Anyway, as I was saying before meathead distracted me. You feeling like that probably isn’t uncommon in people who’ve been attacked, so don’t be hard on yourself, or expect to feel perfectly back to normal in the wake of this. Give yourself time, don’t start reverting to old habits.” 

He had worried that she might, but her reassurance was swift. “No, no I won’t. I know if I rush myself to feel back to my old self, I won’t get there. I am still being a bit tough on myself, just so you know, but that’s mostly out of frustration. I can’t really hate her for what she did, because she isn’t in her right mind. I’m struggling with it, reconciling it, that I really shouldn’t be scared because she was just one lone nutter with a grudge borne of what her mental illness had made her believe. At the same time, though, it was a fucking traumatic experience. I need to give myself time, no matter how much it bugs me.” 

“Three years ago, and you would have shut it down, likely thrown yourself into a heap of work and then had to deal with the fallout from all of that,” he noted, hand idly stroking her arm.  

“Three years ago, and I was still two and a half months away from meeting you,” she noted, leaning into him a little, whistling for the dogs. Up popped Groucho’s head, gleaming dark copper in the summer sunshine. “Come on, knob head!” she chuckled, watching him dive over the long grass as they turned at the top of their land, heading back towards the house.  

“How the hell has it been three years? Shit,” he exclaimed softly, his hand reaching for Bear when the big dog licked his fingers, he and the others trotting along much slower after their frenzied exertion. “And I want you to know how proud I am of you, the way you deal with things so much more healthily than you did. Okay, so some stuff lingers, but you at least tell me about it. That’s all I ever wanted.”  

Leaning closer, his kissed the side of his neck with a happy hum. “It’s because I trust you, I feel safe to. I’ll never not feel safe, as long as I have you.”  

“I love hearing that.” Stopping, he took both of her hands in his, resting his forehead to hers. “Can you do something for me?” 

Jade knew where this was going. “Anything.” 

“Love me forever?” 

She smiled, kissing the tip of his nose. “Always.” 

If one thing remained consistent over the years that followed, it was that she truly would love the man who made her feel safe forever. Another consistency was that true to form, once she’d recovered from her ordeal, her attacker locked away in a high security psychiatric facility for the foreseeable, too, was that she returned to work with her usual gusto.  

And boy, did she eventually reap the rewards of that.