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angrylizardjacket · 6 years ago

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always been close {Roger Taylor}

Anon asked: okay i LLOOOOVe your Ben hardy/roger taylor fics and i was wondering if you could write more of them? I don't have a particular request (anything you write will probably be fantastic) but i do really like a smug or cheeky roger taylor.... so do what you want with that...

Anon asked: Could I request a Roger Taylor x reader fanfic where they’ve been good friends for years,the other members know the reader too but one day the hook up and the other members notice that something happened between them and at the end they somehow end up together.I want a lot of shocking reactions from the boys as I live for them.You don’t need to write it if you don’t like the idea.But thank you ! 💗

A/N: 2870 words. Me, cramming as many prompts into a singular trenchcoat and shoving it out into the world: are you not entertained?! also.... like, light to medium smut..... i might start writing all out smut. Not exactly what was asked for, but it was a fun time. Jealousy warning as well.

“So how do you know Rog?” Deacon smiles at you when you offer to help the boys pack up after their first show, it’s a kind smile, a smile you can trust. Brian and Roger like him well enough, and you at least trust Brian’s judgement enough to be friendly to their new bassist.

“I don’t.” You tell him, straight-faced as you haul the bass drum into the back of van. Deacon’s expression turns confused as Roger passes you another piece of equipment. Looking the newest band member directly in the eyes, you double down on the bit. “I’ve never met this man before in my life.”

“I’m getting a beer, you want your usual?” Roger calls to you, and you turn back, making a face at him. “I’m done packing up, Brian’s the only one left.” He responded to your nonverbal complaint by making a flippant gesture to the guitarist, who was clicking the last of the latches shut on his guitar case. “Drink?” He asked you again, and instead of answering you just beamed at him. Poor Deacon just looked confused.

“Pay them no mind, Deaky.” Brian said, sliding his guitar case in the back beside the bass. “It’s a blessing they’re even coherent half the time.” Brian, exasperated, turned to you. “How’d you meet Rog?” He asked, voice flat as if it were a question he’d asked a hundred times before, and you looked back at him.

“He killed me in a past life and I’m biding my time for revenge.” You responded, expressionless, to which he shook his head.

“That’s a new one.” He would give you that much, before turning to John. “Y/N and Rog grew up together.” He said by way of explanation, speaking over the top of Roger shouting from the door that they’d run out of your favourite drink, but that you could share his beer if it came to it.

“You drink piss-water and I can see mine in your hand.” You accused, while Roger leaned down, his lips at the rim of the glass that held your drink.

“These are both for me.” Somehow, he thought the best course of action was to take a drink from the one obviously for you, slurping the top of it obnoxiously.

“Children, children, get in the car.” Freddie called over the top of you both, and you took the opportunity to snatch your drink from Roger’s hand, spilling it both on him and yourself, though you still thought a crow of triumph was warranted.

“So how do you know Roger?” The girl he’s brought along to the band’s first album recording is pretty enough, dark hair, cute shorts. She smiles at you and it’s all teeth, something a little bit nasty and insinuating in her tone. It takes a moment for you to suppress your eyeroll, you’d dealt with this before any girl who was into Roger seemed to see you as competition, and as flattering as it was when the two of you started hitting the town together, it was wearing thin now.

“I’m his personal bodyguard.” You tell her, and the girl purses her lips, but doesn’t say anything else. Mary hides her laughter behind her hand, and drapes her other arm against the back of the sofa, an open invitation for you to lean against her and watch as the boys set up in the other room.

They record for hours, trying everything and anything, experimenting with everything they had, making music, dancing, living electrically for the time they had in there. The woman he’d brought takes most opportunities to throw herself on him, dance with him, keeping it relatively tame for present company, but you knew the look in his eyes, and in hers.

The last take of the night is when her thinly-veiled jealousy shtick is wearing thin on you, and you leap up after his final recording session, jostling the sleeping Mary where she was lying on your lap, running to him. Wrapping your arms around him, you let him spin you around in elation.

“That was good! That was so good, wasn’t it, Y/N?” And he’s glowing with excitement, eyes only for you. You answer in kind, gushing about the music, how excited you were for it. There’s triumph running through your veins when the other girl has to clear her throat to get his attention. He went home with her, but you still feel victorious.

It’s a feeling you’d always experienced, since you were young; at first it was only the two of you, both of you going to the same high school a district away, not knowing anyone. But Roger had a magnetism to him, and an aggression that brought in a certain type of person. You weren’t lonely, no more than any other high schooler, but for all yours and his friends, you both made damn sure to stay best friends.

It continued into university; he’d brought you in to meet the band at the first gig, and they took to you immediately, so you kept coming, would help them pack up, make yourself indispensable, earn your place as Roger’s best friend in this world he’d cultivated around himself.

And now here you were, the final gig before he and the others officially drop out to become serious musicians... Or, there you were, because after half an hour of drinking and throwing peanuts at Roger and the girl he was with - who had said the band was shit, though the drummer was cute, while in the bathroom - Roger had dragged her out to the car he had managed to scrape together enough cash for.

“Roger?” Now you’re just tired, lying in his bed, wearing his shirt. “Why’d you bring me back here? I was a dick to you, to-” you can’t remember the name of the girl he was with, but she was just trying to have a good time, you know you shouldn’t have-

“Stop talking.” He yawned as he walked into the room, wearing his pyjamas shorts and drinking from a half-filled bottle of water. When he sense you’re about to say something else, he puts up a hand, eyebrows raised at your possible defiance, and you close your mouth, sulking.

Climbing into bed with you, the two of you shift automatically, your head resting on his chest as he wrapped an arm around you, looking up at the ceiling. The two of you hadn’t shared a bed like this in years.

“Sorry.” You find yourself murmuring as he strokes your back, well, as much as he can with half of it being used as part of your pillow.

“Why’ve you gotta be like this?” He sighed, but you just tucked up closer to him.

“I thought we weren’t talking about it.” Voice low, you feel a quiet, self-deprecating laughter rumble through his chest, and his hand comes to rest at your hip, fingertips brushing against your thigh where his shirt ends. You’re waiting, holding your breath to see what he would do. You know he’s looking at, can feel his gaze on your face, but he doesn’t stop, fingers moving slowly just beneath the fabric of the shirt to your underwear. His thumb slides beneath the elastic, and finally you look up at him. He’s so serious, God, you could cut the tension with a knife, and it snaps as he does, pulling the elastic of your panties up in one quick flick and letting it snap against your side.

“Ow! That hurt, you asshole!” You laugh, shifting to prop yourself up on your elbow, but he’s already pulling you down for a kiss, grinning against you lips. It feels like it should. You fit together easily, his hand moving to keep your hips steady as you shift automatically to straddle him. “You’re such a dick sometimes.” You pull back, still grinning, lips still only inches from his. He raises his eyebrows pointedly at you, and you’re pretty sure there’s nothing hotter than Roger’s smug fucking face, as he then proceeds to graze his nails up your thighs, kissing you to swallow the whimper that escaped you.

It feels like it’s been a long time coming. It’s fun, but its not unfamiliar; you’ve known each other for so long it’s like it’s a natural progression. You can read each other like a favourite book, somehow instinctual and a little awkward, which is, well, it’s perfectly you two.

“You know what? I don’t think I’m actually sorry for cockblocking you tonight.” You mused, a little out of breath, shooting for serious. Though it takes Roger a moment to process what you said, he grins up at you, gently poking a spot on your inner thigh where he knows a hickey will bloom.

“Maybe should thank you.” He snorts, which only goes to set you off laughing again. The sound of it, warm, syrupy and at ease, it makes him grin, proud of being able to illicit such a genuine laugh from you in this situation, and soon you’re pulling him up to kiss him again, still thrumming with laughter.

No-one notices at first. Well, to be fair, you and Roger are weirdly touchy, so if he’s pinching your ass more than usual, no-one seems to care enough to comment on it. Well, you notice, but you couldn’t care less. Things between you have shifted; not gotten weird or bad, just shifted sideways. Roger’s still sleeping with any practically any girl that throws herself at him, and you’re free to hook up with anyone and everyone you like, but sometimes... you just find yourself together at the end of the night.

One night, the girl he’s talking to at the bar gives you a catty look when he’s not looking. She saw the two of you come in together, never mind the cute guy who had been buying you drinks for the past hour. Excusing the poor guy who you know is now probably going home alone tonight, you make your way to the bathroom, leaning against the wall beside it, watching Roger and waiting until you catch his eye.

He frowns slightly at you, but you just nod towards the bathroom and raise your eyebrows in silent question. It’s almost comical how fast he leaves the girl at the bar. When she follows his trajectory with her eyes, she sees you waiting; you wink at her, the grin on your face stretching into something smug as Roger wraps his fingers around your wrist, pulling you into the bathroom. Mine.

It’s not like you do that every time you go out together, just if you get bad vibes off whoever he’s with, or if she makes a face at you like you’re some sort of competition... which you are, but you don’t want to seem like it.

The thing is, Roger does it too, he’s just a tad more possessive. Sometimes he’s subtle, mentioning to you and whoever you’re with that you had to go; band rehearsals early the next morning, even though it was usually a lie. Your favourite, however, was the night you both went to a dingy little pub with a jukebox rather than a band, and the guy who had been plying you with alcohol had come back from the bathroom with a grin. You were tipsy, feeling on top of the world with this stranger’s hand on your thigh, when out of nowhere, Roger’s arms wrap around you, warm and familiar.

“You right there, mate?” The man at the bar had snapped.

“He called you a ditzy bitch in the bathroom.” Roger had murmured against your ear, low enough so only you could hear, and in your liberated state, you were ready to yell at the man, though the man had enough yelling of his own to do.

“Alright, you wanna go, mate?” He growls, standing, and your smile turns poisonous as a new thought occurs to you.

“Yeah, Rog, do you wanna go?” The soft, amused nuance in your voice conveyed such a different message that it was laughable, you turn your head to rest your forehead against his where he’s perched his chin on your shoulder. The man at the bar deflates a little as you lose interest in him, and Roger’s smile widens.

“Sounds like a plan.” She mine. It’s there in his eyes, the way he keeps an arm around you as you leave the bar, you feel it thrumming through him as pulls off your shirt in the back of his car.

Sometimes you head to bars with the boys and Mary, sometimes they still play pub gigs, and yet they still don’t seem to realise. Or, most of them don’t seem to realise.

“You and Roger are hanging out a lot.” Mary smiles at you, a glint of mischief in her eyes as you watch the boys complain about trying to fit their gear in Brian’s stationwagon.

“Of course, he’s my best mate.” Shrugging noncommittally, you hear Mary hum, unconvinced. Shooting her a suspicious look, she just shrugs in return, mimicking your own dismissive gesture.

“You want me to give you a lift home?” As if to prove Mary right, Roger calls out to you, pulling out his keys. You can feel Mary’s pointed look, and your expression falters, shaking your head with a smile, though your heart’s not in it.

“No, I-” you start, but then the rest of the band is looking at you, “there’s someone at the bar.” Gesturing over your shoulder awkwardly, you give them all a strained smile and head back inside. Catching Roger’s expression, he actually... looks hurt, and a little jealous, though he covers it up quickly.

“Can I ask you something?” The pub’s doors closed behind you, and you’re fully intending to stumble into a taxi when a voice is heard behind you. Whipping around and almost losing your balance, you spot Roger, leaning against the edge of the building.

“Do not sneak up on me like that Rog.” You admonished him, reaching an arm out to him for support, and he’s there automatically, wrapping his arm around you.

“What are we doing?” It’s actually snowing outside, and you’re tempted to say freezing my ass off, but he seems serious.

“Fuckin’ around.” You mumble, turning to wrap both your arms around him. “You’re my best friend.” Voice dreamy, you feel it when his arms tighten around you.

“Best friend.” He repeats, quietly, and you hum thoughtfully for a moment.

“Mine.” The word is firm as you speak it, and he leans back, eyebrows furrowed.

“What does that mean, Y/N?” He asked, and with the distance between you, he watches as snowflakes drifted about, settling on your closed eyelashes.

“Means I hate that you fuck other girls, Rog, but you’re my best friend and an adult so you can do what you want.” It takes you a moment to get the full sentence out around your vaguely uncooperative tongue, but when you open your eyes, he’s smirking at you.

“There was no guy at the bar.” It was a statement rather than a question, but you snorted with laughter anyways.

“’course not, you knob. Mary was getting suspicious though.” You told him, and he had to muffle a laugh at that. After a beat, you raise your eyebrows at him. “And yet, Roger, you walked all the way back here and waited until I was kicked out to spend time with me.”

“Yeah, well, gotta look after what’s mine.”

“Those look fresh.” Mary poked at the hickey on your throat, commenting loud enough for the boys to hear as the two of you draped yourselves across the sofa in the rehearsal room. Giving her a shit-eating grin, you can see Roger’s own wicked smile where he’s tweaking his drum kit.

“That’s because they are.” Swatting her away, you pulled a magazine from your bag, flipping it open.

“So the boy at the bar-?” Mary giggled, shifting to read over your shoulder, though you weren’t paying attention to the words.

“Oh no, this is all Roger’s work.” Shooting for nonchalant, you can hear the others stop their tuning as Roger continued to set up. Looking up, you can see Mary grinning out of the corner of your eye, Brian looking like he was quickly forming a headache, John frowning into space, deep in thought, and Freddie looking between the two of you.

“How long’s this been going on?” He asked, seemingly still unsure about the nature of the relationship.

“A while.” Roger supplies, which John echoes as a question.

“Year, maybe?” You look to Roger, for confirmation, and he shrugs, making a noise of vague confirmation. Brian finally unfreezes where he’s got his base in one hand, and other pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What the fuck, guys?”

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #borhap imagine #queen #queen imagine #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #the angry lizard writes

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thatfanficstuff · 6 years ago

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Battle Scars - Chapter Six

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: um...nope

Enjoy!!

***

You pulled your hand from Bruce’s and curled it back into a fist. “I’ve had that scar forever. Don’t even remember how I got it now.”

He arched his brows and gave you a look that said he didn’t believe a word you were saying. “You did not have that scar yesterday. Or even today when you handed Tony his coffee. Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. I’m more observant than most people give me credit for.” He slid off his glasses and tossed them onto a nearby table before crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze never wavered from you as he waited for you to speak.

Finally, you sighed and paced away from him. “I’m not trying to bullshit you, Bruce. I just wasn’t intending on telling anyone. Not for a while, at least.”

“So, you are Tony’s soulmate then?” He dropped his arms and took a step toward you.

Suddenly unable to speak, you nodded.

“Okay. And you’ve known since?”

“After he was missing. He was doing a press conference and I saw him on the television. Our bruises matched.”

He raked a hand through his already messy hair and huffed out a breath. “And you haven’t told him?”

“What do you think, Bruce?”

“All right, all right.” He gestured toward one of the chairs at his small kitchen table. You sat and he took the one across from you. “Are you planning to tell him?”

You debated for a moment whether to even the continue the conversation before deciding it was too much of a relief to have someone to talk to for you to stop now. If things got back to Tony, you’d just have to deal with it then. “That was my intention when I came here. I tried to get through to him by phone and I couldn’t so I just showed up. They assumed I was here for a job interview and here we are.”

“I don’t suppose you mentioned you were his soulmate when you tried to call?” he asked.

“It’s not like anyone would have believed me if I had. Besides, that’s the kind of news you need to deliver yourself don’t you think?” You leaned back in your seat.

He ran his fingers across the surface of the table as he thought. “All of that aside, why haven’t you told him since then? You’ve had time. He’s been looking for you for a long time.”

Hearing that Tony had wanted to find you made your heart a little lighter. It also made you feel a little guilty. “He has a girlfriend, Bruce. I’m not going to be what breaks them up.”

“Who? Pepper?”

You nodded.

He grimaced. “She’s not really his girlfriend.”

You pursed your lips thinking over everything you had seen the last few weeks. “Are they dating?”

He tilted his head from side to side. “Well, I mean, technically—”

You held up a hand to cut him off. “Technically is enough of a relationship for me. I’ll tell him when the time is right. This isn’t it.”

“How do you know that it isn’t? I won’t tell him if you don’t want me to, but you should. And the sooner the better.”

“That’s enough. I’m not going to let him drop his entire life because of me. That’s not fair to him, Bruce.”

“You dropped yours to come here for him. Shouldn’t he get the same choice?”

***

It took a while before you were convinced that Bruce wouldn’t spill your secret. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Tony. You would love nothing more than to be with him but you didn’t want him to pick you just because you were his soulmate. You wanted him to get to know you as a person first and a soulmate second. Things like that took time.

You were still deep in thought when you left Bruce’s room to head back to your floor.

“Everything sorted?”

The unexpected voice startled you and you found yourself staring at Tony with wide eyes. “Huh?” Well, that was eloquent, Y/N.

Tony straightened from where he’d been leaning in the doorway of the lab. You wondered briefly how long he’d been standing there. His gaze darted past you to Bruce’s door before settling back on you. “Did you get Bruce squared away?”

“Yeah,” you answered feeling moderately guilty for misleading him. “It’s all good.”

He stepped forward as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. “What did he need anyway? You two were in there for a while.”

You lifted one brow. “We got busy talking. You know how it is.”

He hummed in what you assumed was agreement. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.” With that he turned and went back into the lab.

You stood there for a moment trying to process the strange scene you’d just been part of until your phone rang. “Hello,” you answered without paying attention to who was calling.

“We need to talk,” came Fury’s deep voice and you instantly forgot about anything else. Why was the director of SHIELD calling you?

***

As soon as you were off the phone with the director, you spent the next two hours making calls, placing orders and issuing instructions. Once you were certain everything you needed done would be completed by morning, you called a meeting in the Avengers conference room.

As the team shuffled in, they fell quiet as they found you waiting for them. Tony and Bruce were the last two to file in. Tony scowled as his gaze fell on you. “I thought this was a team meeting. What are you doing here, hot stuff?”

You arched a brow at the nickname. “It is a team meeting, Tony. Fury thought I could handle this one.”

Steve’s brows shot up. “Would you mind repeating that?”

“Just sit down,” you instructed the science bros. “It’s not that kind of meeting.” You passed a thin folder to everyone at the table. “Fury is expanding the team.”

“Sam Wilson, the Maximoff twins, and James Barnes have all been approved on a probationary basis.” From the corner of your eye you saw Steve sit straighter in his chair as a grin curled his lips. “Sam will maintain his own residence. The twins will be on the floor below Nat and Clint and Bucky will be on your floor, Steve.”

Not everyone looked particularly thrilled with the news you were giving them. “The information in the folders includes what they are required to do to maintain their status on the team. Steve, Bucky requires daily therapy for the time being, would you prefer I bring someone in?”

“Yes, please,” he responded with no hesitation.

You shifted your attention to Tony who just frowned at the folder in front of him. “Tony.” You’d said his name softly but it was enough to get his attention. He looked up with wide eyes.

“Yeah?”

“The twins need therapy, too. Three times a week. And then there are the after mission sessions. Should I see about getting one on staff?”

Natasha huffed a laugh. “I’m surprised Fury didn’t offer to move one in.”

You smiled at that. “Oh, he did. I didn’t think any of you would care for a SHIELD shrink when we can hire our own. Then you don’t have to worry about them reporting back to anyone.”

“See. This is why I like her,” Clint piped up. “Always thinking.”

Tony’s lips twitched for a second before he gave in and smiled. “Hire us a shrink, sweetheart.”

***

With Jarvis’ help it didn’t take you long at all to find the perfect candidate and he was quickly hired. Anxious to share the news with Tony you were talking before he could even acknowledge your presence in the lab. You read off the man’s qualifications and talked about his references and then realized Tony wasn’t commenting on anything you said.

You looked up from you tablet to find him smiling as he looked between the device in his hand and you. It was easy to see that you amused him. Your face heated. “Sorry, I ramble when I get excited.”

“I look forward to exploring that trait of yours in more detail later, but why are you so excited about hiring a team therapist? Or should I not ask? Is he handsome? Are you impressed by the size of his PHD?”

You blinked as your brain tried to catch up with your soulmate’s teasing. He was certainly in a flirtatious mood. As you looked him over, you realized that he had stripped down to a white tank. And coming from beneath it was a bright blue glow. “Um, Tony?”

“Yeah, Y/N?”

You gestured vaguely in his direction. “You’re glowing.” You tore your gaze from his chest to meet his eyes.

His brow furrowed and he glanced down. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed before. It keeps me alive. Keeps shrapnel from going into my heart.”

That made your chest hurt. What if he wasn’t a genius? Would he already be dead? You sat your tablet down on the table and stepped around until you stood next to Tony, his eyes following you. “Can I see?”

He tilted his head and studied you for a long moment and you wondered what he was thinking. Finally, he emptied his hands and turned on his stool so he was facing you. In one swift movement, he took his tank off and tossed it on the table beside him. “Look all you want, sweetheart.”

You closed the small distance remaining between the two of you, your eyes glued to the device in his chest. No wonder your scar had never faded. This thing had to be inserted inside of him. It was a permanent wound. You reached your hand out to touch it before you caught yourself. “Sorry,” you said, snatching your fingers back just before you actually made contact.

Tony’s warm hand wrapped around yours and he tugged you closer. Your heart raced and you sucked in a deep breath as he laid your hand against his chest. He kept his over the top of it. “It’s called an arc reactor,” he explained. “It not only keeps me breathing, it powers the suit.”

You glanced up at the sound of his voice and swallowed past the lump in your throat as you realized just how close you were to him. “Does it hurt?”

He shrugged. “Hurt like hell at the time. Now, not so much.” His thumb rubbed against the hand he was holding making a tremor shoot through you.

You reached your other hand up and traced one of the many scars that decorated his skin. He hissed in a breath. Your first instinct was to apologize but you resisted the urge and looked up to meet Tony’s gaze. His eyes studied your face as the corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin. “If you’re planning on checking out all my scars, it’s going to take a while. Not that I mind. I just think you should be prepared.”

The two of you leaned toward each other and your eyelids closed as you prepared for the kiss.

“Ms. Potts is requesting that you meet her in your apartment, Mr. Stark.” Jarvis’ voice cut through the silence in the room and you took a giant step away from Tony as you were reminded of his girlfriend.

Your face was warm and you suddenly found yourself unable to meet his gaze.

“Thank you, Jarvis. Impeccable timing,” Tony bit out.

“Of course, sir.”

You couldn’t keep yourself from glancing up. Tony gave you a smile as he put his shirt back on. His eyes stayed locked on yours as he gave instructions to the AI. “Tell Pepper I’ll meet her in her office.”

He stepped toward you, stopping when you took a step back to maintain the distance. He held up his hands and leaned against the table behind him so you knew he was giving you the space you needed right now. “Pepper is not my girlfriend.”

You bit your lip. “It’s not really my business.”

“I think it is.”

You glanced down briefly before looking back up. “Then does she know she’s not your girlfriend? Because I’m not so sure she does.”

His dark eyes studied you but he said nothing.

You cleared your throat and gestured toward the door. “I should go.”

He nodded once. “Just remember, sweetheart, we’re not even close to done here.”

Battle Scars: @i-dontwikeit @thevanishedillusion @amandamartinez3568 @clumsy-hailles @little-nonny @tonystarkismyboy @redfoxwritesstuff @lowkeyofsassguard @sherlocked-whovian-1969 @tori24rose @a--1--1--3 @youclickedthislink @beckastark @confusedhada @nuggeteater-dot-com @bluehuskey2099 @kit-kat-katie99 @sexysamsungl @staringmoony

All the Things: @swanky-batman @rissyrapp20 @startrekkingaroundasgard @spooookyscary @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @laneygthememequeen @collette04 @shatteredabby

#tony stark x reader #avengers #tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #series #battle scars

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wild3flow3r · 6 years ago

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Chapter Six

January 7th

Lorelai did not want to interview for a job as Xavier Styles’ assistant. She wanted nothing more to do with the Styles’, and if she got the job then she most definitely would not want to admit that Harry had helped her do so. But she desperately needed a job. She did not want to move back in with her parents or Jones who had offered to house her for a while, and not because she was too embarrassed or too prideful to do it. Lorelai didn’t want to move away from London. Sure, she didn’t have many friends here, or any for that matter, but the city called to her like it was always where she was meant to be.

So Lorelai sucked it up and gave Xavier a call after the New Year started, and after a short interview earlier this morning he instantly gave her the job. It was nice to have this to fall back onto, but she promised herself that this job would only be temporary. She would look for other jobs while working for Xavier, and when she finds one she will rid herself of all Styles’ for the rest of her life.

“I haven’t had an assistant in quite some time,” Xavier notifies her as he shows her to a desk outside of his office. “So it might take me some time to get used to.”

Harry looked so much like his Uncle Xavier that it was almost uncanny. From their freakishly tall height to their bright green eyes, Lorelai could definitely see the family resemblance. The only difference was that Xavier’s hair was a sandy blonde that was starting to turn gray. All this did for Lorelai was further prove one of her theories about Harry, that he and his family were just a bunch of clones sent to Earth to ruin everyone’s life.

Except Xavier was so much nicer than Harry. In place of Harry’s snarl, Xavier was always smiling at her and being respectful to her. Being a nice human being must skip a generation, Lorelai thinks to herself.

Lorelai sets her bag down on the desk and turns to smile politely to him. “Well, just think of it this way. Whenever there’s a part of your job that comes up that you don’t want to do, the tedious work, just give me a call and I’ll get it done for you.”

Xavier shakes his head in amusement before walking off towards his office. “Get yourself settled, and in about an hour or so I’ll be emailing you something that I’ll need to be faxed over to another doctor. Faxing might be my least favorite part of the job.”

Lorelai frowns, which Xavier thankfully doesn’t catch because he’s already shut his office door behind him. Another thing that Styles’ have in common, she supposes.

Lorelai sits down at the chair provided for her, and clicks the computer mouse twice. Xavier Styles owned his own medical practice, naturally. He’s a cognitive behavioral therapist for children and teenagers, meaning he helped his patients confront any types of problems they were having and help them get better. Lorelai really respected him for his work; it was much better being a assistant for him than for a divorce lawyer.

As it was the first day the practice was open since the New Year started, Xavier was taking the day to settle back into the work setting and would start seeing patients the following day. Lorelai types in her new login information that Xavier had given her, and luckily she finally gets it right on the third try. After signing into her new email as well, Lorelai takes a moment to text Jones and her mother that she’s gotten this new job. She knows they will be pleased with how much more money she’ll be making as well.

The hour passed by slowly, but finally Xavier sent her the documents that needed to be faxed. She’s about to print them out when the phone on her desk begins to ring. After quickly clearing her throat, she picks the phone up and pressed it to her ear.

“Hello, this is Xavier Styles’ office. How may I help you?” Lorelai attempts to keep her voice as bright and chipper as possible.

“So my brother finally got himself an assistant, eh?” There was a man on the other side of the phone, and his rough voice instantly makes Lorelai tense up for two reasons. One, unless Harry had another uncle then Lorelai was currently speaking to his father. And two, just by the way he spoke Lorelai could tell that he was even worse than Harry, and he’d only said one thing to her.

“Yes sir, he just hired me today,” Lorelai lets him know, unable to think of anything else to say.

“You would think because… Well never mind. Just tell him I need to speak to him. It’s an urgent family matter.”

“Yes sir, please hold for a moment.” Lorelai's index finger presses a button on the phone so that it transfers her to Xavier’s office phone. She immediately lets out a loud breath from no longer being on the phone with another Styles’ man that she hopes she never has to meet. Two of them were enough for her.

“What is it, Miss Sterling?” Xavier asks, picking up his phone after two rings.

“Your brother is on line two, sir. He says he needs to speak to you about an urgent family matter.”

Xavier lets out a deep sigh. “Alright, thank you, Miss Sterling.” The line goes dead and Lorelai hangs up her phone. She stands then to print out and fax the documents.

Xavier exits his office ten minutes later, just as Lorelai was finishing up. He eyes her for a moment with a contemplative expression. It makes her uncomfortable, but she waits for him to speak first.

“How long were you on the phone with my brother before you transferred his call over?”

Lorelai stands by her desk with her hands behind her back. “Only for a moment,” she responds.

“Did you tell him… Did you tell him about knowing Harry?”

Lorelai cocks her head to the side before shaking it twice. “Only that it was my first day here, and then I transferred the call.”

Xavier nods curtly before turning around. “If he calls again, don’t interact in any small talk with him. Just immediately transfer him over, or if I’m not here apologize for it and hang up.” He shuts his office doors behind him.

What the hell is going on? Lorelai sits back down in her chair with a soft thud. She didn’t really seem to know why it mattered that she knew Harry, but Xavier was acting pretty perturbed after the phone call. Just a few more weeks until I can find another job, Lorelai reminds herself. Just a few more weeks until she can rid herself of this family forever.

***

As there weren’t any patients today, Xavier let Lorelai leave an hour earlier than her newly scheduled release time. She was very thankful for the fact, and already she could see that she would enjoy working with Xavier for the next few weeks drastically more than she ever liked working with Bertram. Her original plan had been to go directly home and call her parents while making dinner, but instead she caught the tube that took her away even further from her home. She had struck an idea as she was exiting Xavier’s practice, and the idea was making her act on impulse.

Lorelai must have been out of her mind, she told herself that several times as she stood outside the building in this freezing weather. The sky looked like it was about to start pouring at any moment, but Lorelai stood stock still against a wall. She was beginning to shake, from the cold and also from what she was about to do, but she barely even noticed.

Lorelai stood outside for exactly thirty-three minutes before Harry Styles exited the Clemens & Son building. He didn’t notice her at first as he strolled over to his car, his ever present frown playing across his lips. He still didn’t notice her as he threw his briefcase into the backseat of his car and closed the door with a quick slam, even though she was standing only five feet away from him. Lorelai walks those few feet over to him just before he can grip the handle of the drivers side door, and taps his shoulder twice. He jumps around so fast, his eyes wild with surprise and confusion, and Lorelai would have laughed if he wasn’t Harry Styles.

“Lorelai-”

“We don’t work together anymore.” Lorelai states calmly.

Harry raises an eyebrow. “We don’t.”

“You’re no longer my superior.”

“I’m not.” His voice was thick with uncertainty.

“You’re an arsehole, did you know that?”

Harry leans against his car, almost like she’d pushed him. “Yeah, I know that.”

“You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“I don’t,” he responds, but it sounded more like he was just repeating her words than actually agreeing with her.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you off so bad since the first day you walked into Clemens & Son. You were such a prick to me that day. You said things about me behind my back before you even knew me.”

Harry frowns now, the memory of his first day playing in his mind. “I did.”

“And then you just get me fired? How could you do that? Everything I’ve ever done to you, none of it will ever match those two terrible things you’ve done to me.” Lorelai was close to tears, but she takes a few deep breaths to try and keep them at bay.

He watches her carefully, taking in her trembling form and wobbling lip. He places his hands on her shoulders and she goes to shrug them off but it only makes him hold onto her tighter.

“You’re freezing,” he acknowledges while holding her still. “Get in my car, I’ll drive you home.”

Lorelai shakes her head, but he’s already leading her to the passenger side of his car. He opens the door for her, but she doesn’t make a move to step into the car.

“Why did you fire me? Tell me why you fired me, and I’ll get into the car,” Lorelai demands.

Harry sighs, his body blocking hers from trying to walk away from him if she wanted to. “I’ve announced today to Bertram that in two months Clemens & Son will have to close down. He spends money like he isn’t running a company, and it’s finally caught up to him. If you were laid off at the same time as the rest of us and couldn’t find a job immediately after, or if I couldn’t get my uncle to hire you, then the company doesn’t owe you anything. But if you were fired before the announcement was made, then we owe you a certain amount of money each month until you find another job or six months after your firing date, whichever comes first. It was just a precaution.”

“But-”

“Please, Lorelai,” Harry cuts her off and lightly pushes her towards the open car door. “Can we talk about the rest of this in the car before we catch frostbite?”

Lorelai’s shoulders slump down before climbing into the car. Harry shuts the door behind her before entering on his own side, immediately turning the car on and the heat to its maximum. She leans her head against the headrest while closing her eyes and trying to catch her bearings. The rain starts to pour down only a few seconds later.

It was silent for about another minute before Lorelai speaks up again. “Why were you so rude your first day at Clemens & Son?”

Harry stays quiet and instead pulls his car out of its parking spot. Lorelai sighs when Harry continues to be silent and she knows she won’t get an answer.

“You’ve ruined me, did you know that?” Lorelai looks over to him, and the frown on his face looks different than it normally does. It’s not laced with annoyance or stress, but with sadness. But Lorelai also thinks that it might just look that way by the lack of lighting surrounding them, because she’s pretty sure that Harry Styles can’t feel any normal emotions other than anger.

“I don’t like myself when I’m with you. You turn my into someone I don’t like. And then I think of you when I’m by myself and all the awful things you make me feel, and I feel terrible about myself even when you’re not around. I never used to feel like this, ever.”

Harry still doesn’t go to speak, and this frustrates Lorelai even more. She wants to hit him, push him around until he makes a noise, because she wants some sort of acknowledgement from him. Some way to know that he’s listening to her and properly taking in the words she’s saying.

“Pull the car over, I want to get out. I can get myself home,” Lorelai demands of him when she’s finally tired of his silence.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s freezing outside and with the rain you’ll get sick.” He finally responds, barely taking a moment to glance at her before looking back towards the road.

“I’d rather catch the flu than spend another minute with you. It’s not like you care about what happens to me anyways, so just let me get out.”

Harry laughs now, but it’s not one of amusement. The sound causes Lorelai to freeze in her seat and it sends chills down her spine. “You don’t think I fucking care?” He does pull the car over, but he keeps the doors locked so that Lorelai can’t escape. He turns towards her then in his seat, and Lorelai leans against the window of her door.

“I know you don’t,” Lorelai responds quickly.

“I wasn’t talking about you on my first day. It was that woman who worked downstairs, Martha, Margaret, whatever the fuck her name was. She got fired the week after I started working there. Sure I wasn’t the nicest to you on my first day, and maybe I should’ve made those comments about what’s her name in a more professional fashion, but I had a bit of an ego-complex back then that made me think I was the best fucking thing that happened to that office ever. And then you argued with me on everything I did every single day, and I’ll admit you knocked me down a couple pegs. Also I’ve only just recently come to terms with this, but no matter how hard I tried to be the best worker at Clemens & Son, no matter how much work I put into my job, you were always fucking better.

“I’ve been trying to get you a raise from Bertram for almost three months before you brought the idea up to me. I spent countless hours trying to convince Bertram to let us have Christmas off just so you could go see your family. I ordered you a teapot for your collection for Christ’s sake, and don’t ask me why because I genuinely do not know why. The amount of times I told Bertram to stop staring at you like… like… well you know what I mean. It was endless, and I did it because I knew how uncomfortable it would make you feel. So don’t say that I don’t care, because I bent over backwards to get my uncle to even consider hiring an assistant. And I don’t bend for anyone.”

Lorelai sits there in shock, Harry’s words entering her system and her body wanted to immediately reject them. They didn’t sound right, the things Harry was saying, they didn’t sound like him. But if what he was saying was true, then she didn’t really know him at all, not really.

“I’ve been horrible to you to your face, I know that. I didn’t think… I don’t want you to not like yourself.”

“I… I want to go home,” Lorelai finally responds, crossing her arms over her chest as if hugging herself. “Just take me home.” She would have demanded she be let out, let her find her own way home, but she didn’t think she could get her legs to work properly in this moment.

So Harry pulls away from the curb, both of their confessions thick in the air, but nobody speaks. Not one word for the entire ride, and Lorelai doesn’t wish him any goodbyes as she steps out of the car. She barely even waited for him to come to a full stop before throwing her door open.

Lorelai's only two feet away from the car when Harry rolls the window down.

“I’m sorry, Lorelai. I really am.”

Lorelai turns towards him, her mouth open to say something even though no words were coming to her mind, but Harry drove off before he could face her reaction.

#1dff #cmiyc #cmiyc6 #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction fanfiction

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cerulean8looded · 6 years ago

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25!!!!!!!!

okay that one i literally made bc i look like john, love just dance, and want to be loved but here we fuckin go

25. John being a just dance twitch streamer and all the boys being gay for it i mean youtubers au

so im thinking that all of them make WILDLY different content. lets start with the beta kids.

so john has a gaming channel, clearly, and he decides he wants to lose some weight in a fun way that also helps his channel, so he starts the just dance thing. other than that, he mostly plays things like minecraft, five nights at freddys, all your basic bitch stuff, along with a fair few horror games. he really likes minecraft and sims 4 though.

rose has a witchcraft channel. she practices witchcraft and makes videos about spells and sigils and crystals and all the other cool stuff that goes along with that. i dont know much about witchy stuff anymore, its been a while since i was into that stuff, so id have to do a bunch of research for her.

dave has two channels: irony channel and music channel. the ironic one is where he posts anything to do with sbahj, and just generally fucks about, does weird trends and stuff. he never shows his face on his music channel, never shares his name, and it’s all remixes, so no one hears his voice either.

jade has the most chaotic but pure channel. she does anything she feels like doing, from kids show reviews to “Look at this cool pumpkin i grew” to “heres my favourite gun”. she has no theme, and never plans to change this.

Trolls

aradia is similar to jade in chaotic energy, but she tends to stick to stuff like creepy antiques she finds, weird animal bones from the fields she just wanders about in and that kind of odd stuff. she also talks about dark conspiracy theories a bit.

tavros mostly focuses on animals; animal care, animal facts, how to spot animal illnesses, how to deal with hostile but injured animals in the wild, what to do if you see an animal you think might have rabies, all that kinda shit. theres always at least one animal in every video, whether its a ferret in his lap, a cat walking over him, a snake around his neck, a guinea pig on his shoulder, and so on.

sollux does a gaming and tech help channel. he plays any game that people claim is difficult and tends to beat them so fast people think he’s hacking. he slaves over every fnaf game to try to beat the custom night first. as for tech help, hes basically that guy who runs the channel on how to fix discontinued apple products.

i lost my fucking karkat paragraph, im furious. basic recap of what i lost: he does general content like dan howell and phil lester kinda, with a couple staple series, such as his rant series, where his followers give him a topic and he rants about it for about twenty minutes (after editing). he also does livestream versions which can sometimes last for several hours per rant.

nepeta does cosplay videos with whoever she can rope into helping her (usually terezi, vriska, equius, or feferi) plus a lot of fandom videos in general. she usually comes off really lighthearted in her videos, but she also makes a lot of important comments about fandom culture and shipping wars etc. on her second channel she does vlogs, which exposes her absolute gremlin side. these vlogs often feature things such as her climbing up a tree, getting stuck, and screaming until equius saves her.

kanaya does makeup and fashion advice videos, mostly with a vampire theme to them. occasionally she’ll do cosplay makeup too. her favourite videos to do are when her subscribers send in pictures of themselves and their closets, along with some general information on what they wont wear and all that, and she gives them advice on how to spruce up their look a little and declutter their clothes, etc. she likes feeling like shes making a difference to people.

terezi focuses on true crime mostly; cold cases, current cases, sometimes she runs through the process of solved cases. she prefers to do unsolved stuff, since it gives her the ability to talk about her own theories on it, and she does often get it right, but for particularly interesting cases she will do a video anyway. she also does a little bit on mental health and the reasons behind crimes and shit.

vriska is another kinda general youtuber. she does whatever the hell she wants, plus anything anyone says she cant do. she also lets some of nepetas fandom stuff leak into her content. no one really knows how she got so many subscribers. she also has the most merch out of all of them.

equius makes videos on whatever happens to be his current hyperfixation at that moment. hes the most inconsistent. one week hes picking apart the homosexual subtext in certain scenes of jaws, the next hes teaching you how to put together a microwave. he does a lot of lgbtq+ videos too; his most popular video is of him and nepeta and some others at pride and most peoples favourite part is nepeta racing around a small clearing with equius on her back while vriska cackles behind the camera

no one is really sure what gamzee actually does. his videos are all filmed on a phone camera and are never edited. he doesnt have an intro or an outro. sometimes it seems like he forgot to start filming until halfway through whatever he was talking about, but he never repeats the bits the camera missed. theres no theme, no clear goal, no one knows whats happening and theyre pretty sure hes high in every video. one time he posted a video that was over 48 hours of the phone just pointing at a wall, which appeared to be covered in blood just out of sight of the screen (as in you could see the edge of it but not the actual blood) and there appeared to be a hand sitting at the corner of the screen. everyone was fucking terrified for a while, but the next video posted to his account was karkat explaining that hed had a bit of a mental break and thrown a jar of jar at the wall (the “blood”) and that the hand was just a doll. hed taken out his phone to film a vent video, but promptly forgot about it, dropped it, and went to do something else. he finally remembered over two days later, posted it without thinking and called karkat. a few weeks later he started posting again like the whole thing never happened.

eridan’s content mostly focuses on harry potter and magic (which he definitely doesnt believe in because that would be ridiculous), but he makes a lot of environmental PSA videos about littering and pollution and stuff. in his fandom videos he comes across as just really excitable and doesnt seem like he cares about much else, but he really shows off his intelligence in PSA type videos. he also posts a lot of videos of him just talking about whatevers going on in his life, usually whenever he gets a new crush. his most popular video is the one he made right after seeing johns just dance streams for the first time, because he looked like he was about to cry or scream the whole time.

and feferi! her content mostly focuses on social and political issues. she talks out against “canceled”/purity culture a lot and tends to end up involved in discourse for it. shes that person in the middle of the argument whos literally only stating facts and saying that we shouldnt jump to unnecessary conclusions, but somehow ends up being accused of being jack the ripper or some shit for it. she isnt afraid to share her honest opinions and makes sure to remain as polite and level-headed as is humanly possible when responding to others.

i was gonna do the alpha kids and dancestors too and like share some plot and that kinda stuff but this is long as fuck, so we’re gonna stop here for now! feel free to request again for even more info dumping. also i just wanna say that i planned none of that gamzee stuff i had no idea what i was doing when i started that

#youtubers au #au summaries

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takingcourage · 6 years ago

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The Start of Forever - Part 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Pairing: Drake x MC

Word Count: 2,387

Series Summary: The wedding has passed and the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria are free to begin their lives together away from the constraints of court. While honeymooning in Texas, they’re confronted with questions from their past that raise implications about their future. (Slight AU)

Chapter Summary: Drake and Jena spend some time alone after a difficult conversation with his mother.

Author’s Note: Whew! Apologies for the unexpected hiatus on this story. Now that I have some free time again, I should be able to finish posting this story. I appreciate your patience through the long delay!

Tagging: @andy-loves-corgis, @carabeth, @speedyoperarascalparty

All things considered, Karen Walker had been rather more understanding than she’d expected. As Jena loaded her cereal bowl into the dishwasher, she thought back over the painstaking conversation that had ended less than an hour before.

Drake had not underestimated the effect that their news would have on his mother. On learning that her son had been given a duchy, color had drained slowly from the older woman’s face until a dull white shell was all that remained. In spite of her polite responses, the visceral reactions had been painful for all three of them.

Shortly after their previous discussion had finished, Karen had pulled Drake aside for a private word. After what she'd seen over the past eighteen hours, Jena could only hope that the woman was doing him no further damage.

She tried to convince herself that she’d done nothing but hurry along the inevitable, but guilt assailed her all the same. This certainly wasn’t the way she’d envisioned this day going. At this point, so much of their morning had been consumed by unpleasant conversation that she wondered if Drake would want to leave early for their night back in Dallas. She glanced a the stovetop clock, trying not to get her hopes up.

The quiet intonations from down the hall were at least somewhat reassuring. There had been no yelling -- of that was certain. If she was venturing to guess, she didn’t think she’d heard anything that sounded like crying either. Both seemed like signs in favor of productive conversation between mother and son.

Jena found a rag draped across the head of the faucet, dampened it, and set about clearing crumbs from the table. As she finished the final swipe across the width, she sensed a presence coming toward her.

“You don’t have to do that, Wittman.” The soft-spoken words startled out of her thoughts, despite her intuition.

“I know. But I needed something to do.” She cupped her hand underneath the cloth and shook the contents into a nearby trash can. “You doing okay?” Having rinsed the rag, she returned it to its former spot and rubbed her hands down the front of her jeans.

“Fine.” His brown eyes were trained on her, and she raised a quizzical brow as he opened and shut his mouth. Eventually, the words ventured forth. “Would you be interested in going riding? I was hoping to get the chance to show you around the ranch…”

“I’d like that a lot, actually,” she assured, still taking in his appearance.

Drake looked tired. It was evident in the exaggerated slackness of the skin around his eyes. A pang of guilt plagued her as she contrasted this with their time at the cabin. He’d been so peaceful there. After all of the stress she’d seen on that face in the past months, it sickened her to think that she’d been the cause of more.

“Good. We may as well get over to the stables. Have you ever actually saddled a horse, Wittman?” He raised his brow in challenge.

“No, but I think I’m about to learn how.”

“Just as long as you don’t go scaring the horses. I don’t want to have to reenact that rescue from the derby.”

Jena scoffed at the slight, shaking her head in disbelief as she followed him out the front door. “You know that’s not how it happened, Walker.”

“Of course not,” he acquiesced, treating her to a half smile. She rolled her eyes and fell into step at his side, slipping her fingers into his.

Jena had only ridden horses a few times during childhood, but she’d adjusted to the practice fairly quickly after coming to Cordonia. When she wasn’t taking day-long treks for foxhunting, she found that she actually enjoyed it very much -- especially when she was fortunate enough to have her husband’s company.

Riding around his family’s property spawned memories of exploring Valtoria with him on horseback, and she felt a pang of longing for their home. There was so much waiting for them when they returned. As much as she had enjoyed the honeymoon, some part of her was giddy at the thought of starting real life together.

Today, however, she was focused on Drake’s wellbeing. Other than the extremely thorough instructions as he’d guided her through the process of saddling the horses, he’d been fairly quiet since coming to find her in the kitchen. Jena's mind overflowed with words that could fill the silence, but nothing felt right. She breathed a grateful sigh when he chose to speak instead.

“I was pretty upset with you this morning, Wittman. I was sitting there drinking coffee and thinking that you were being unreasonable -- that you’d judged my mom too harshly. I’m not so sure anymore.”

The uncertainty in his voice halted her instinctive response. Jena breathed out slowly through her nose, biding her time in case there was more he wanted to say.

“I’ve never felt so angry with her before. She can doubt me all she wants, but doubting you -- I never thought she’d go that far. That’s a line she shouldn’t have crossed. I feel like I don’t even know her anymore...”

“For the record, I didn’t want to be right,” Jena admitted softly, grateful that they kept their horses at a relaxed pace so that she could meet his gaze. Her heart clenched at the distance in his deep brown eyes. “I just know what it’s like to defend someone who doesn’t deserve it. Finding out they’re not who you thought they were...it’s a hard pill to swallow.” She fiddled with the leather reins between her fingers, hoping that she was treading lightly enough to cause no offense.

“Your dad?” he asked simply.

Nodding, she met his eyes. The distant look gave way to a tenderness that mirrored her own worry for him, and she was struck by just how broken both of their families had been. “I wasted a lot of years making excuses for him, Drake. When I finally forgave him, it wasn’t because he’d done anything to deserve it. I just needed closure.” Drake stretched out a hand and she took it gratefully before continuing. “I don’t want you to have to go through all of that with your mom. I hope you’re able to figure things out and find a way to start over, but please don’t beat yourself up about it if you’re not.”

Her husband sighed, taking his time to respond as he turned his gaze to the horizon. “I sort of have to. I mean, dad’s not around any more. She doesn’t exactly have anyone else.”

Jena shook her head in an attempt to clear the conflicting emotions. She’d realized long ago that his protective instinct would have a propensity for getting them in trouble. She just hadn’t expected the trouble to take this form. “You always want to defend the people you care about, Drake. It’s one of the first things I noticed about you -- one of the things I love most about you too. But sometimes you have to think about protecting yourself. Sometimes that may even mean letting others protect you.”

“I don’t like to have people worrying about me.”

“We’ve been over this before…”

“I know. And sometimes having you around to worry about me is a good thing. I wouldn’t have come clean with my mom if it hadn’t been for you.”

“I hope it was the right decision.” She’d spent the past several hours second guessing her encouragement from the night before. “Did things...go okay?”

“Heh.”

She waited several moments, but he elaborated no further. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she ventured finally.

“Just that I think it’s going to take some time for her to adjust to the idea that I’m a noble and that I’m staying in Cordonia for good. But I think some part of her is proud too. Maybe someday she’ll come around to the idea that I’m not just wasting my life over there.”

“Does she really think that?” The words felt strangled as Jena worked them out of her throat. So many of her early interactions with Drake became clearer as she considered Karen’s likely influence.

He clicked his tongue to encourage the horse, but her question remained unanswered. Several paces later, he came to a sudden stop. Jena pulled the reins gently and dismounted to stand beside him in the tall grass.

“We’ll let the horses graze for a bit.”

She stroked the mare’s bony cheek and dropped the reins, putting her hands in her pockets instead. Squinting against the mid-morning sun, she followed Drake to a line of fencing nearby. Green stretched before them on every side, the light wind stirring long blades of grass into mesmerizing waves. She wondered vaguely if this was the sight that had enticed Karen to come back from Cordonia. Out here, in the warmth of late spring, it wasn’t hard to imagine the appeal that this land must have held.

Drake leaned against the nearest post, a wrinkle forming between his brows. With ease, Jena mounted the fence beside him, steadying herself with a certain hand.

Did I cross a line? Why hasn’t he answered my question? Jena hated the thought that her carelessness might have caused such distress. A week ago, she wouldn’t have been so bothered by the thought. Now, as this man’s wife, she felt some measure of responsibility to read his mind. The notion was ridiculous, but present nonetheless. Just as she was clearing her throat, he spoke.

“I’m not sure what my mother thinks anymore. She didn’t take it very well when I moved back to Cordonia. Wanted me to forge my own path instead of running back to the palace.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

“Going back?” At her nod, he continued. “I had a lot of questions at the time, but in a way, mom’s right. I’d been following Liam around for so long that it was easier to just settle back into that when I came back from the States. It took me a while to find where I belonged in all of it. But no, I don’t regret it. Cordonia is home.”

“You’ve found your way now. And with or without the courtly graces, you’re still Drake Walker,” she beamed encouragingly. “I just wish your mom had taken the chance to get to who that man is.” A fresh sting of remorse accompanied the words, and she looped her fingers around the hand that rested beside her on the fence.

Drake interlocked his fingers with her own and lifted his face tentatively. “I think I’d like for her to get the chance to.”

Her pulse quickened at the meaning that underpinned his words. Biting her tongue, she shifted her weight toward him and took in his pensive expression.

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” He hiked a hand through his hair. “But I’m not sure I’d ever forgive myself if I cut the relationship off completely. I’d always wonder if things could have been different. I’m not saying that I want to come out here for Christmases or anything, but--” preoccupied, he ceased speaking as she squeezed his hand.

“I’ll support whatever you choose, Drake. I can’t say I have a very good first impression of her, but I respect how much she means to you. If I had any hope of my dad changing for the better, I’d probably make the same choice.” Her tone grew wistful at the impossible notion. “But I think we’re going to have to find a compromise. I don’t want you bending over backward to make her a part of our lives if she won’t even meet you halfway. You can’t do that to yourself, Drake.”

“Agreed.”

“So she’s going to have to understand that there are boundaries she can’t cross. It’s going to take some time for us to establish trust again.”

“Sounds fair to me,” he considered, stroking her knuckles with his thumb as he looked to her face. “She’s been through a lot, Jena. I don’t want to put her through more than she deserves.”

“I know,” she responded quickly to the flash of pain in his eyes. “But if she puts you through more than you deserve, she’ll have me to contend with.” Although her tone was light, they both knew that the threat was genuine.

He hoisted himself onto the fence beside her, dropping his hands to his sides. “I never thought I’d be so happy to get back to Valtoria, but I’m really looking forward to it.”

She offered a wry smile. “I am too. I know we’re going to try to work things out here, but I can’t wait to get back to Dallas and then home.”

“It’s the last night of our trip, Wittman. How do you want to spend it?”

“Seeing as it’s the last night of our honeymoon,” she emphasized, “I was thinking room service, hot tub, and…some drinks.”

“Now that’s a plan I can get behind.”

“I’m not going overboard though. We’ve got a day full of traveling tomorrow.”

“We’ll sleep it off on the plane.”

“Maybe you will," she joked, hopping down from the fence. “I’ll be awake for it all.”

“Even if I keep you up all night?”

Jena threw him a look over her shoulder. "That didn’t exactly work for the trip out here." He extended a hand toward her and she settled into the space between his legs, running her palms against toned thighs that were stretched taut from his heels pressing into the lower rail.

"I’ll take that as a challenge.” The glint in his eyes sent tendrils of heat through her core.

“Just keeping you on your toes, Walker.”

Drake shook his head at her accompanying wink.

“Ready when you are,” she announced, rising to the tips of her toes. Drake cradled her cheek in his hand and leaned into the kiss. His lips were soft and warm, heated by the morning sun. She snaked her arms around his waist and melted into him with pleasure. When she finally pulled away, it took several moments for her head to clear.

The kiss told her all she needed to know. They would make it through this. Together.

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