#mmhm burgers

[catsupport]

Posting this on my tumblr too.

IIDK COUNTING THIS AS MY FREE DAY FOR PARATOBER .. ERMMMMMMM

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin]

Kidnapping

Spencer and the gang are called in for a case. Morgan and J.J are the last to enter Garcia’s office.

“Brief us baby girl” Morgan said as he sat down beside Reid.

“Right well, this girl was held at gunpoint” Penelope put up the girl's picture on the screen. “But then someone tried to defuse the situation when the gunman, now a kidnapper, took her, no reason as to why, and the reason we’re involved is because the kidnapper is our unsub,” Penelope finished.

“She’s pretty,” Morgan said. “Spencer what do you think” Morgan nugged Spence. Today Spencer was deep in thought; he was thinking of multiple different ideas permitting from one single thought.

How would I go about this

“Spence”

“Mmhm su-” He raised his head and looked at the screen and all colour drained from his face. Spencer took out his phone and started to dial. ”Something you’d like to share with the class Spencer?” Morgan asked but Spencer ignored him. The phone went off to voicemail.

“Shit Shit Shit Shit Shit” Spencer dialled again yet was only greeted with the same voicemail.

Hey its y/n i might be a little busy so either leave a message or call back later alright

The gang was stunned. Spencer never swore.

“Spencer, Spencer finally looked at Morgan, his eyes wide.

“That is my, that’s y/n she’s my girlfriend, I-” Spencer started to speak an entirely different language.

“Spencer we’ll find her” Hotch said, he’d never seen Reid like this.

Spencer’s phone starts ringing and it’s y/n. He immediately answers it and puts it on speaker. He sets it down on the table as he tries to calm himself down.

“Y/-” But he’s cut off by a man’s voice.

“SHUT UP I’M TALKING TO SOMEONE WHO MIGHT SAVE YOUR BITCH ASS LIFE” there’s a loud smack and someone shouts.

“UNTIE ME ASSHOLE AND LET’S SEE WHO'S THE BITCH HE-” Y/n is cut off by her kidnapper stuffing cloth in her mouth.

The team was shocked at what y/n said because most people would be a mess if they were kidnapped by y/n seemed not only agitated but in the right state of mind.

“Who is this?” Spencer demands his voice so sharp that Derek has to do a double take. “And what did you just do”

“Someone who has your wife at gunpoint” Morgan glances at Hotch. Wife? ”What I did to her, I just shut her up”

“What do you want” Spencer sounded calm but to his teammates, his erratic eye movement, how he keeps clenching and unclenching his fingers and how he briefly pulls his hair before going back to clenching his fingers.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this you know” the kidnapper completely ignored Spencer’s question. “It was a simple robbery, all she had to do was gimme her wallet, but nooo this little bitch had something to say” the kidnapper pulls y/n hair making her scream into the gag.

“AND I STILL HAVE SOMET-” another smack could be heard.

“Stop hitting her” Spencer could feel his self control slipping

“Oh don’t worry hubby she’s out cold, now I’m going to make her pay for her rudeness”

“Why did you call me,”

“To know if the contact name Hubby served what i think it does”

“And what do you think it serves”

“The person who’s going to bury this bitch” the kidnapper hangs up and Spencer all but reaches for his phone to toss it.

“What’s our game plan?” Penelope asks.

“Well,” Morgan starts. “I think Spence should start,”

Spencer looks at them, he sighs before he speaks.

“Y/n L/n is my girlfriend but technically by Las Vegas laws we're married”

Derek starts. “You had a girlfriend-wife and you never told us” Spencer keeps his eyes on the phone in front of him.

“I was going to tell you guys”

“When”

“When I got her to say yes” Spencer’s shoulders drooped.

“You were gonna re-propose?”

“Yes,” Spencer took out a black box from his coat pocket. “Tonight, I had everything planned”

“Spencer '' Morgan clasps Spencer’s shoulder. “We will find her, that’s what we do,”

They team except for Garcia go to the scene of the crime. It’s a fast food restaurant.

“She loves their burgers,” Spencer chuckles before looking at the building opposite.

“We’ll never know what she bought till we find her,”

“That’s where we start,” Aaron says as he points over to the tiny camera on its ceiling. Spencer and Derek go in as JJ calls Emily and Rossi over from interrogating a customer. Derek and Spencer meet a burly 30 something man.

“No I ayn’t geeving ya my CCTV, gyet lawst,”

“Derek, could you wait outside for a second,” Derek without question steps out. Hotch and the rest later notice.

“Why are you out here?”

“Spencer,” Derek shrugs.

“Wh-”

The door opens and Spencer is holding a tape.

“What did you do?”

“I asked him for it,” Spencer hands the tape to Derek. Derek looks at him skeptically, “I promise I didn’t hurt him,”

Find CCtv footage of the car y/n was kidnapped in

Track it down to somewhere in the middle of nowhere

Find it in front of a house

*They surround the house and get inside but the kidnapper dude already has y/n is his hands with a gun to her head.

Spencer comes from behind and shoots him in the hand holding the gun his shot being through and through

*Y/n tries to strangle the dude but Spencer grabs her from behind and pulls her away *

"LET ME GO, LET ME AT HIM," y/n yells as Reid holds her in. "LET. ME. AT. HIM."

"Calm down sunshine," Reid whispers in your ear. “He’s down,” he says as he rests hims face in your hair.

"Reid!? Reid,'' He spins you in his arms and hugs you bringing you close; he doesn't kiss you because you are surrounded by an audience.

"I thought I might have lost you" you nestle into his neck.

"You will never lose me Spence not if I have anything to say about it" You let go. “Can I atleast land one hit, I promise just one,” Spencer for the first time during this 3 day period, smiles.

"Spencer,” JJ called. "How about you do take care of this one, yeah"

Spencer nodded and took you home. Some of his clothes were at your place, so he didn’t bother stopping at his place.

He filled up your tub and undressed you. He wanted to let you be but you didn't let him. He slipped in behind you and he held you. For a long time.

"Tell me what you remember, sunshine, come on, let it out don't be all strong and brave, be weak and fragile, right here, right now,"

You leaned into him and before you knew it you were crying.

You never felt so helpless. You told him what happened. How it felt being held at gunpoint for the first time. How it felt being shoved into the car. The turns, right, left, left again.

The car stopping and him getting out and tossing her on the ground. Blacking out. Waking up in a wooden chair, tied down. Him slapping you twice for talking back at him.

Taking your phone.

Calling Spencer

His voice woke her up.

She wanted to cry then.

"Hey baby come on let it all out, studies show that the more you cry the more likely you'll recover from violent otherwise traumatic events an-"

"Sp-Spencer"

"Yeah sunshine"

"I love you okay"

"I love you more" Spencer takes the loofa and scrubs your feet, “If you want to stop we can”

“I- you- you need to know right?” I sob. “Your job”

“I don’t need to put down everything sometimes” Spencer stops what he’s doing and he comes back to you, “This is one of those times, okay?”

“O-okay” I sniff and sob. “I’m a mess,”

“I like everything about you about you even your mess”

“It’s sta-statistically proven th-that woman who show a sign of distress or a misery in a relationship tend to end up breaking the r-”

“Baby that’s rubbish, if you read that off a site it needs to be taken down” Spencer holds your head in his arms. “That’s a lie right there, this will never break, it’s actually the opposite see-” He stops when he notices the smile on my face.

“Spence”

“Yes sunshine”

“I’m joking” he rolls his eyes at you but you can see the smile tugging at his lips

He takes you out and cleans you before cleaning himself. He changes you into matching pyjamas. “Now as your doctor, I suggest bed rest with your boyfriend” you giggle.

“I like that treatment plan”

“So does your boyfriend”

Spencer stays by your side the entire night. The proposal can wait another day.

[faeriekit]

Lunch Break

a two-prompt phic phight fill for @fuyuthefoxwriter; demon!au and fangs

Notes: 1. This IS a continuation of my prev. demon!au (Visitation) 2. based on the laws of Phic Phight you CANNOT read the previous iterations, as it is nsfw and therefore cannot be linked 3. but for the already present fans…it’s a continuation from that. Also, it’s gray ghost. 

*

Valerie likes her boyfriend. 

He’s cute, with a button nose and blue eyes. He’s sweet. He’s kind, and he’s gentle, and if she leaves him alone he takes the toaster oven apart just to see how it works. It’s kind of like living with a small dog who takes apart pillows if you don’t give them enough attention. 

Valerie loves her boyfriend. 

…But the goddamn teeth. 

She pushes his face away, cutting off their kiss with no warning. Danny squawks. 

“Danny,” Valerie implores, again, because they are in public and not in the comfort of their own apartment, “If you cannot keep human teeth while we are making out, we are not going to make out anymore.”

Her stupid, human-shaped boyfriend pouts. Valerie should be pouting. Valerie has to avoid shredding her tongue like she’s kissing a cheese grater. 

Danny, who is the cause of all this, should not be pouting as if he’s been denied the opportunity to stick his tongue in her mouth for no reason, instead of his habit of turning his extremely normal and flat human teeth into something extremely hazardous to tongues and lips everywhere. 

Danny makes the world’s saddest eyes she’s ever seen. It’s very rude of him. Valerie deserves better. “But Val! I brought you lunch!” 

For one, it’s six in the evening. A more apt word might be ‘dinner’. Secondly…

“I work at a burger restaurant,” Valerie points out, arms crossing over the Nasty Burger logo on her shirt for extra emphasis. “I already have dinner. I also have to be back on shift in half an hour, so if you’re not going to put your teeth away, I’m going to finally finish Don Quixote or nap trying.” 

“Yeah, but you hate eating work food for lunch,” Danny points out, because he does do some very sweet things by 1) recognizing her likes and dislikes and 2) applying them liberally throughout their relationship. He holds up a weirdly large tupperware in his hands. It’s clear. It’s green. 

It’s Fenton salad. 

“...So my Mom packed you leftovers after I picked up stuff at the Ops Center, since she knows you like the dill vinaigrette she makes after the ectology conference every year, and she added the shredded carrot and the crumbly cheese you like since no one else in the house eats it, plus some of those little orange slices and the croutons…”

Valerie’s lips purse. Fenton salad. Her favorite. 

…She takes the container from Danny’s outstretched hands, determined to ignore his smug look. Valerie prefers to be right, but higher in priority comes accepting free food from her boyfriend’s mother.

“You’re welcome,” Danny offers, smugly sweet.

“If I kiss you, will you get me with your teeth again?” Valerie asks. She’s deeply suspicious of both his motives and the timing. 

“...Maybe?” 

Valerie looks at him. “Change your answer.”

“...No?” 

“Close enough.” Valerie draws him in, and Danny lets himself be drawn in; the kiss is sweet, and short, and tastes kind of like mandarin oranges. 

He definitely had some of her salad before sharing. Whatever. It’s a good thing she likes him. 

The kiss is lovely, and not very long; separating is a little harder, though, when Valerie realizes that Phantom’s tail is still wrapped around her waist. 

“...Danny.”

“Mmhm?” 

“I have a shift to get to.”

“Yeah,” Danny agrees, entirely ignorant to his least controlled limb holding her back. 

“So,” Valerie continues, and then scratches at the fur in his tail until he flinches with recognition. “Unwrap me, please.”

“Do I…have to?”

Valerie’s look flattens. Danny makes entirely unacceptable goo-goo eyes at her. 

“I have a shift in ten, and your mom’s salad to devour. Move it or lose it.” 

Danny’s tail unwraps. Danny sighs, leaning in for one last peck—

Valerie feels the tips of fangs bite explicitly into her lips. 

Her growl is hardly intimidated by Phantom’s rush of guilty laughter, her demon-shaped boyfriend slipping out of her fingers. Great. Now she can taste blood— the thing she was trying to avoid. 

Seeing him in all of his claws and fangs and teeth and horns in daylight was always a little strange; he was never quite opaque in sunlight. He was always a touch translucent, only just shifted outside of reality. 

And the stupid cow ears.

No, they're not endearing. Shut up.

It certainly didn’t help that if someone saw him turn into a demon, his whole ‘hiding his identity as a half-demon’ thing would be over! He needs to pick better spots for his random acts of infernal dramatics!

“I’m sorrrryyyy,” Phantom shouted from a healthy fifty feet away, floating in the air. It made him hard to reach, but an excellent target. “I looooovvee yoooouuu!” 

No. Valerie will resist reaching into her armor for a weapon to shoot her boyfriend out of the sky with. It is rude. It is unkind. More importantly, Valerie’s not interested in having a public identity reveal behind the Nasty Burger any more than Danny is. 

It’s fine. There’s other options. 

“Put a shirt on!” Valerie hollers back, hands over her mouth. 

Phantom’s mouth drops in the distance, little fangs glinting in the evening sunlight. His clawed hands go over his chest, looking for some perceived gap in his coverage. “I’ve got fur! I don’t need one!” 

“Exhibitionist!” Valerie heckles back. “Nudist!” 

Phantom squawks in offense. “Come on! I’m covered!” 

“Get some pants!” Valerie shouts back, finally attracting the attention of one of her employees. At the sound of the Nasty Burger’s nasty back door creaking open, Phantom bolts off. 

Good. That’s what he gets. 

Temerity peeks through the back door. Her name tag is upside down, again. “Boss…?”

Valerie brushes herself off, grabs a plastic fork from where it was sitting on her ebook reader, and reclines back onto the plastic lawn chair that counts as their ‘break room’. “It was nothing, Temmie. A demon got into the dumpster again.” 

“Oh.” Temerity’s countenance warms. She’d always had an interest in the local occult scene. “Did it leave anything behind?”

“Nah,” Valerie replies, popping open her tupperware. Just her lunch, apparently. “You need any help…?”

“Nope! We’ll be fine until you get back in.” 

That for sure means something’s wrong. Whatever; Valerie is totally satisfied to finish off the last fifteen minutes of her shift with some literature, a bucket’s worth of satisfaction, and her boyfriend’s dismayed texts pinging in bursts onto her phone. 

[star-quill]

me normally: really big age gaps are not okay most of the time! the power dynamic is bad

me after reading that blurb: I want to be peter’s sweet seemingly innocent young little plaything

mmhm mmhm mmhm!!!!!!

maybe a few people around the neighbourhood find him attractive too, not knowing that you're his girl, the one he comes home to every night. you still stay at your place every so often but most nights you're in his bed, wearing his shirts, his dog tag necklace around your neck.

mornings with him were just heavenly. on the hot summer nights, the pair of you usually slept naked and peter still ran warm, but it was a nice kind of warm. when he wakes up, his arm starts to move, then his hand is roaming around your body. it finds its way between your legs and you then slowly wake up, whining when his fingers slide between your folds. he's kissing your shoulder, your whimpers in his ear are only egging him on.

but nights with him are even better. sitting on his lap, his hands on your waist while he's kissing you. to him, you're absolutely the prettiest thing he's ever seen. he's just absolutely obsessed with you, obsessed with everything about you.

it takes a while for you both to even really think about going out in public together as a couple, fearing the looks people might give you, or the comments people might make. it's not until a fourth of july barbecue at peter's that you kiss him in front of everyone. he's at the barbecue, flipping the chicken and the burgers and you go up to him, ask him if he needs anything. he asks if you can grab him a beer from the fridge inside and you happily oblige, leaning up to kiss his cheek. only a few people notice, but word gets around quick and you soon feel everyone's eyes on you. peter's about to put his hand around your waist before you run out the back gate and over to your place. he tells a friend to keep an eye on the food before he's gone to check on you. he finds you in your bedroom, crying into your pillow.

"baby.. hey, what's wrong?"

"everyone was staring.. everyone.."

"honey.."

he sat down beside you, his hand on your waist as you lay on your side, wiping your tears.

"they can look and stare all they want, you know it's just jealousy.."

"you'd be better off with any of the hot moms in the neighbourhood.. not me.."

"not true.. i hate the nights that you spend here, feels weird wakin' up to an empty bed without you there.."

you smile a little when he says that.

"i want you to come back to the barbecue.. i don't care who stares at us, i want you next to me.. you're my girl and i want the whole neighbourhood to know it.."

you just roll your eyes, smiling and taking his hand as he brings you back over to his. and you do as he says, you stand next to him, one of his arms around your shoulder while the other flips the meat around. a few of the moms are glaring at you but then you realise, you don't actually care. he could be fucking them, but he comes home to you (almost) every night. you then think of how to piss them off even more, getting back at all the times they've made fun of you for saying you think he's attractive. the food's all cooked and served and he's sitting on one of the garden sofas in the backyard. you walk past him and go inside, taking some of the cold food inside to keep cool. you don't even realise one of the moms has followed you until she turns you around.

"oh.. hi.."

"are you fucking him?"

"who? peter?"

"yes."

you just smile and laugh a little.

"well.. yeah.. why?"

"why did he choose you?"

"well, for starters.. he wasn't going to fuck someone who didn't have a tight pussy.. plus, he thinks i'm cute.."

"you know he only sees you as some sort of plaything, someone he can fuck and throw away.."

"yeah? is that why he keeps coming over to mine so he can put his dick down my throat? or put his head between my legs? or push me down onto my bed and fuck me until i'm numb?"

she didn't even say anything then. you just smiled and walked back outside, sitting next to peter on the outdoor sofa, legs tucked underneath you as you lean into his side. his arm slid behind you and around your waist, his hand coming to rest on your hip. maybe at first you were a plaything, someone he could fuck just to let his frustrations out, but now you were well and truly his. more importantly, you were his girl.

but it didn't hurt to mention about being just a plaything to him when everyone was gone, straddling his lap while you grinded down into his lap.

"plaything, hm?"

"mmhm.. i can officially be your girlfriend but what if, on occasion, you fuck me just like that.."

"yeah?"

"mmhm.. yeah.."

[miyuhpapayuh]

ten.

The next month had flown by and it was just as blissful as the last, bonding Leon and Zora like super glue.

“Okay, what kind are those?” He asks, pointing to the spiral-like white flowers near the middle of the store.

“Cala lilies! My mama’s favorite flower!” She answers.

“You think that, and Aster would look pretty together?” He asks.

“Yeah, that sounds like a pretty combo.” She nods, squinting at the smirk on his face.

“Right,” he nods, walking towards another flower inside the same flower box. Pink ones she would frequently paint, the shape being one of her favorites.

“Cosmos! My favorite, next to poppies of course.”

“They come in orange, too?”

“They do!”

“Good to know,” he nods again, moving toward another flower box, altogether, with her in tow, silently laughing at him.

He thinks he's slick.

“You sure you don't wanna be a botanist?” He asks, looking back at her.

“An expert on flowers? I thought I was already there!” She quips with her hand on her hip.

“You are! Just not established, like you said.”

“Okay?”

“So, you wanna be established?” He asks, reaching out for her hand.

“I don't know. Maybe? Why?” She asks, latching onto him as they continue their stroll.

“Because you love this place and flowers. It seems like your element. One of them, anyway.”

“Like you know me,” she waves him off, earning a chuckle from him.

“Have I been wrong, yet?” He asks, looking down at her.

“Nah, your scores are high.”

“What, are we playing a game?”

“Mmhm, and you're winning.” She giggles, patting his chest with her free hand.

After buying her usual bundle for her, and another for his mama, they pack up and head towards mint hill for lunch.

Zora had told Leon about Wayback Burgers and how delicious they were, and he was sold after hearing “burger”.

They're sitting outside, like usual, grubbing away on their cheesy burgers and greasy loaded fries.

“Oh, Linda wants to have a meeting tomorrow. I wonder what's going to happen.” Zora says, stuffing another handful of fries in her mouth.

“Whatever happens, it better be necessary action against her knucklehead of a child.” Leon comments, catching her eye.

“Yeah, I'll be holding my breath, still.”

“Why? She suspended him, finally.”

“Yeah, after how long, though?? I'm still skeptical about their relationship in the workplace, whether she finally “got it” or not.”

He nods, knowing she's just being precautious. “Yeah, I understand. I just don't get why it's so hard for parents to show their children right from wrong.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she shakes her head.

“If he was my kid, I'd kick his ass and fire him in the same breath.” He says, making her crack up.

“Leon!”

“What? There's no way I would let that go on and on and on! He'd have to feel me, since he can't get his shit together. Better yet, she should let you beat his ass.”

“Oh, I'd love to! He deserves his ass beat.”

“See?”

“I never said you were wrong,” she laughs, “it's just funny to see you get all worked up. Especially over his stupid ass. He's not worth it.”

“Yeah, but you're worth protecting.”

She twists her lips up, trying to hide the smile on her greasy lips. Hiding behind a napkin was her only other choice, with them sitting almost shoulder to shoulder.

“Stop that,” he laughs, pulling the napkin from her grasp. She turns her head, only making him kiss the skin of her neck that's bared to him. Turning back, his lips catch hers, making them both laugh.

“Leon,” she starts, snatching the napkin back to wipe her mouth and his.

“Zora,” he leans back in, his head laying on her chest, those eyes looking up at her.

“You're pretty.”

“So are you.”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Bright and early on Monday morning, Zora and Linda sit in the side office at the job, while Linda gears herself up to deliver the news.

“Alright, my dear Zora. I know I've apologized before, but again I sincerely apologize for not putting a stop to Cory's foolish and disrespectful behavior, a long time ago. There's no excuse.”

“I appreciate it, Linda. I'm glad you listened before he got cut. I'm just being honest.” She shrugs.

“Yeah, I won't argue with that. But, you won't have to worry about that cause he's not coming back.”

She raises both brows in total shock. “What?”

“Yeah, he still feels like his actions never harmed you or made you that uncomfortable. I told him to can it, cause nobody wants to hear that. So he's fired.”

“See? A pig. Your son needs a swift kick in the ass.”

“Get in line. As you can see, he doesn't have the greatest rap sheet.” She shakes her head. “I need to try all over again with him, it seems.”

Zora lets her have her bad parent moment, cause if she wasn't gonna say it… Zora woulda still been thinking it.

“I know it was tough firing your son, but it's better for your business. Your patrons couldn't stand him, either. And.. now I don't have to get harassed at work anymore.”

“Yes, all for the greater good. Plus, I love you like my own! I couldn't let you feel like I didn't care about what wasn't going on. Again, I'm really sorry. Is there anything I can do to help patch this over?” She asks.

“Mmm… how about a raise?” She innocently smiles, making Linda return the gesture.

“How's $25 sound?” She asks, swearing she saw Zora’s eyes bug out her head.

“Twenty-huh?”

“With a person cut, and finally a genius to look at my taxes, I can afford it!”

“I— that sounds like a plan.” She straightens up after a moment, shaking her boss's hand.

“Good! Now go out there and look pretty, we open soon!”

Today might've been the first day she felt like she could breathe, and it rolls by quick and easy, just like every day should and would, moving forward.

Calling Leon, right after Nique, on her break and telling him the wonderful news, one would think he was shedding tears on the other side as he expressed his excitement.

“I think you're happier than I am!”

“I'm just glad I ain't have to floor him in his mama's business. I mean, I woulda loved to do it, honestly. But.. you know what I mean.”

“Leon,” she talks him down, laughing. “Cut it out. That's what the parking lot is for. Don't damage the property.”

“You right, you right! My baby smart.” He chuckles, as she fondly shakes her head.

“Oh! I got a raise, too!”

“Really? What she bump you up to, $30?”

“Pretty close. $25!”

“That's my girl! You deserve it.”

“Thank you, baby. It's been a good morning and afternoon.”

“The rest will be just as good. Promise.”

“Yeah? What you got planned?”

“If I tell you, I'd have to kill you!” He says back dramatically.

“Sounds like you took a page outta my book, dear.” She giggles.

“Ha, ha. You'll see about everything later. Have a great rest of your shift and I will see you soon.”

“Okay, alright. See you soon!”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Every bit of her fifteen minute drive felt so long, as she finally pulled into the lot, near his building and cut her car off.

Hopping out and sprinting to his door, he greets her with a glass of white wine and a couple sweet kisses, pulling her inside.

“Thank you, baby.” She smiles, looking around at all the tea-light candles he’d lit before she arrived. As well as another batch of orange poppies and cosmos in a vase on his table.

“Leon, you are so cute.” She frowns, sitting her glass down and cupping her own face in awe.

“Am I?” He asks, leading her towards the other side of the island, where their plates are already prepared with the delicious food he'd made.

“Yes, you are! Oh, this looks so good!”

He wraps his arms around her, stuffing his face in her neck like usual as they sway. Her eyes start to sting.

“You deserve it, ya know? People are listening to you and what's important to you. Life's working for you and your needs, cause it's about time, right?”

“Yeah, it's about time,” she nods, tracing his arm with her finger, wiping her tiny tears away with her free hand. He spins her around in his hold and kisses the rest away.

“You okay, my beautiful flower?”

“Perfect.”

As they sat and ate, their sweet evening turned into an even sweeter night as they found themselves in between the living room and kitchen, dancing to a playlist he'd made her.

She probably told him how cute he was, about a thousand times, and each time earned her sweet kisses she would never grow tired of. He felt the same way about hers. About her.

“You know what I was thinking?”

“What?”

“I could finally move somewhere nicer. I mean, I love my complex but I can actually pick up and go somewhere else!”

“Yeah, you can! Where you thinking?”

“Oh, I've got a few places on my list. They're close to everything still, especially my job and you. Nique stays in one of them— ooh that would be trouble,” she snickers, hiccuping right after.

“I'm sure she'd love that. Soberly give these some thought.”

“Yeah, I know. I'm just excited! Life's really the bee’s knees right now.” She cups his face now, gazing up at him with twinkling stars for pupils.

“I love you,” he says, without a second thought, watching her smile brighten.

Both of their hearts stopped and started again at the same time.

“I love you, too. It's not too soon.” She assured him, pulling him down to her level for another kiss as they got wrapped up in the moment.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

“Uh, did you go out with a vampire?” Neoma asks, making Lovita snort as Zora places a hand over the hickey in question.

“No, did you?” She asks, pointing to the dark mark on her older sister's neck, making her reach up to cover it.

“Touché,” she squints, before smirking at her little sister. “We know your other secret, though!”

“How??”

“We caught on as soon as you walked in here! It's all in your walk and you're glowing even more than before!”

“Dear god,” she laughs, making them both crack up at her.

“I think you and god have been having enough conversations, don't you think?” Lovita cracks.

“Stop,”

“Continue? I will. How was it? Cause we heard from a lil birdie that it was the best, ever!”

“It was,” Zora giggles. “Also, say goodbye to Nique cause she's dead once I get to her.”

“Ohh, don't kill her. She was so happy for you! You know girly is our fourth sister!”

“What kind of flowers should we bury our fourth sister with?”

“Zora!” They both call out, making her laugh and throw her hands up.

“Alright, okay! I should direct my fire at you,” she points at Lovita, “cause you set me up, miss bartender!”

“Hey, I'm not responsible for you gettin’ all touchy with that man. That's on you.”

“And on her, he was.” Neoma smirks.

“Okay, okay! I don't need visuals, Jesus! We're just glad you're enjoying yourself and that fine man. He's a sweetheart, and he really cares about you.”

“He told me that he loves me.” She says, making their jaws drop.

“Awww, that's so sweet! It's only been like two months!”

“I know, but when you feel it, what's time? Just a factor.”

“Do you feel it?”

“Yeah, you love him back?”

“Absolutely, I do. Our relationship has been so easy going. Even when the days get a bit tough, we're still meeting in the middle. Still there for each other. I mean, after I broke the news about Cory being fired and me getting a raise, he was so happy for me. He knew how important all of that was, and we had one of the best nights! He cooked, he got me flowers, he praised me. Fed me back the words I always tell him. It was beautiful. He's beautiful.”

“You're gonna make me cry, man!”

“Hell, I cried several times last night!”

“Now, backtrack for a minute. Cory really got fired??”

“Yes! He's really not coming back!”

“No way! I never thought I'd hear those words.”

“Girl, me either! But listen, I need y'all's opinion on something.”

“Yes, it's too soon for marriage.” Lovita says without missing a beat, making Zora roll her eyes.

“Nobody's getting married! Listen!”

“Okay, okay, I'm done. I'm listening.”

“I'm thinking about moving out of my complex.”

“Oh, thank god!” They yell in unison.

“Oh, come on. It's not that bad.”

“As if your landlord being infatuated over you isn't bad.”

“It's not, you know why? My rent is reduced, he lets me smoke the fuck outta my apartment and I got the maintenance crew wrapped around my finger. I be helping my neighbors out!”

“Right, it's time for Zora to help herself out, though. I'm all for you moving.” Neoma nods, making Lovita do the same.

“Nique’s complex is really nice! They've got a fountain, an indoor gym, a pool, a pit! Like it's one of those all inclusive places for real!”

“How much?”

“A little over a band, I think. Maybe $1050 or something like that.”

“Usually, I wouldn't be able to understand but it's got actual amenities so we'll chalk it up. Call her!”

“Okay, I'm calling.”

Nique answers the FaceTime almost immediately, already giddy for whatever it was that Zora had to share.

“Oh, all my favorite people! Minus that lank of a boyfriend. What can I do y'all for?”

“I love her,” Neoma giggles.

“Hey Nique! Guess what I was thinking about?”

“Moving in with me?!” She excitedly guesses.

“Pretty close! How about maybe being your across the hall neighbor!”

“You know what?? My neighbor is actually moving out soon!”

“Would you look at that!” Lovita taps Zora on the shoulder.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Any. Time.”

“Anyway,” Zora sighs, “I would love to have that apartment.”

“Let me get in touch with the rent office lady and see if you can just pay first month's rent when she dips to secure it or sumn!”

“I'm prepared to do that! I can't back out now either, I've told all three of you.” She sighs.

“Aw, you still keep that rule in place?” Lovita coos.

Some odd years back, Zora made a rule that if she shared something with Nique or her sisters, she'd have to make it come true. Some way or another.

It definitely helped her through tough times.

“Yeah, I pinky swore! You know I take those serious as hell.”

“It's true!” Nique laughs.

“Did you tell Leon? We could use his box-movin’ ass!”

“Yeah, he knows! Oh, we used the L-word!”

Nique's eyes grow as wide as her mouth, making the three of them scream in laughter.

“Oh my gosh! When did this happen?”

“Last night. We celebrated Cory's firing and my raise, and he told me that he loves me. It felt like he had been holding it for a while.”

“Aw, that's so sweet! Zora!”

“I know,” she frowns, dabbing at her eyes. “Stop it, I don't wanna cry again!”

“Okay, okay,” Nique says, both of them laughing it off. “But I will definitely talk to her tomorrow! I'd love for you to be my neighbor!”

“Me, too!”

“I'm so happy for you! I'm glad Cory's gone, too. His stupid ass.”

“Thank you boo, and me too. Leon is too,” she snorts. “He was ready for his scrawny ass.”

“Oh, we know!” They say unison, falling into another laughing fit.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

“I dream about you.”

“Yeah? In what ways?”

“All the ways. You're a muse in all of them. A goddess. I happily kiss the ground you walk on,” he continues, making her giggle.

“Happily, huh?”

“That's what I said, girl.” He says back, dropping his head for emphasis.

“I hear ya,” she returns the petty gesture. “You lucky we're on the phone or I'd fight you.”

“We gotta work on your flirting, Zora-Jean.” He says with a laugh, causing her eye roll to come like clockwork.

“One day, they're gonna get stuck just like that.”

“Ha. We gotta work on your jokes, Leon… what is your middle name?”

“I told you, I'm not telling you.”

“Aw, come on! It cannot be that bad.”

“It's not, I just don't like it.”

“Okay.. what if I like it?”

“Zora,”

“Oh come on, Leon! Just tell me.”

“Okay, fine.” He crosses his arms like a spoiled child. “It's Avery.”

The smile that spreads across her face makes him look towards the ceiling, feeling his face get hot.

“Uh oh! I thought you said brown boys don't blush, either! Ya face look a lil red, baby!” She mocks, making him laugh and rub a hand down his face.

“Cut it out.”

“You first!” She places her chin in the palm of her hand, waiting patiently as he locks back in on her face.

“Ugly, right?”

“Leon Avery. It's country as hell like mine. I think it's adorable!”

“Yeah?”

“That's what I said, boy.” She mocks, again.

“I'm coming over just so we can fight, now!”

“The door's unlocked,” she says with a raise of her right brow.

“Bet.”

After five minutes, he was stepping through the threshold of the love lair and there she was, swaying to the low music coming from her speaker.

She never ceased to get him caught up in her. Mesmerized, he always was.

“Come dance with me,” she says as her eyes land on his, holding a hand out for one of his, pulling him to her once he latches on.

“I thought we were fighting.”

“We can. After we dance.” She answers, making him grin and shake his head at her, loosely wrapping arms around her waist.

Her hands rest at his neck, one at the back and the other at the front, her right thumb brushing against his adam’s apple.

His hips find her slinky rhythm in no time, drawing them even closer to each other. He finds a reason to spin her around, making her laugh.

“I dream about you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Also, in all ways. My prettiest subject. I kiss every flower to lead me to you.”

Their eyes dance over each other's faces, searching for words to make the moment sweeter.

“You think I'm pretty?” He asks, pulling a hand from her hip to rub the scruffy sides of his face, while she wholeheartedly nods.

“The prettiest man I've ever seen with my own two eyes, Leon Avery.”

 “You gon wear that out, huh?”

“I was just about to ask you the same,” she says, covering his hand with hers, leading it back to her hip.

“Oh, you must be ready to fight now.”

“Yeah, take me down.” She innocently smiles, it only brightens as he hoists her up from the ground to toss her on the bed, climbing on top of her.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

A few days go by and Zora gets word that she can put down a cash deposit of half the rent to secure the new space, which she happily does.

Another thirty days was gonna be draining enough, so she immediately began packing and sorting through things she'd been meaning to part ways with. Of course Nique was helping.

“I feel like I haven't seen you in a minute, friend.” Zora frowns, as they fall into another hug.

“Aw, you're all mushy on me! What has that man done to you??” She pokes fun, as well as actually poking her in her sides.

“Like I never showed you affection before.”

“Girl, you've hugged me seven times in the last ten minutes! We'd be slap boxing by now.”

“Yeah, well…”

“What?”

“Change is good. Shut up, and listen to this bullshit.”

“What happened??”

“I think my landlord's gonna be a problem.”

“What he do?”

Flashback 

After getting her recertification papers inside her mailbox, she headed down to the rent office to speak to her landlord face to face, so there'd be no discrepancies between the two.

“Hey, Jordan. Can we talk?” She asks, knocking twice on the outer wall of his office.

“Sure, doll! Come in and sit.” He smiles, looking at her over his glasses.

“Thanks. I just came in to let you know that after my lease is up, I'll be moving out and I won't be needing these.” She sits the papers on his desk, watching the frown stretch across his face.

“Oh, I see. What's got you leaving?”

“I've been here for about five years, give or take. It's time for something new, even though I really like this place.”

“So stay,” he tries to sway her.

“No, sometimes you gotta spread your wings and fly somewhere else.” She nervously laughs, sighing as he joins in.

“I understand. I've made it easy for you here, though. Who's gonna treat you like that?”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, Zora. You're my special tenant. I give you the hook up.”

Her face scrunches up. “All though I've appreciated you being so nice to me, I've always said that you never needed to.”

“Fine.” His tone changes. “In thirty days or less, since you wanna play games, the locks will be changed. So you and your things better be out by then.”

She was surely expecting him to turn on her, which is why she recorded their conversation.

“The agreement is thirty days. Do not make this ugly.”

“It got ugly once you said that you were leaving, dear.”

“I don't have to stay here if I don't want to.”

“Who's telling you that you have to stay?”

“Did you not just try and sway me to stay?”

“Zora, this conversation is making me dizzy. Let's wrap it up, shall we?”

She's taken aback, but nods anyway.

“Noted.”

Flashback over

“I'm so glad you recorded this. Ew, he's such a slimy man!”

“I know! That's why I'm packing up early. I don't have time for his bullshit.”

“Do you think he's gonna try some shit?”

“With that threat? Yeah, probably.” Zora sighs.

“Tell Leon! Get him to kick his ass or something.”

“I don't want Leon going to jail for me.”

“Girl, you know he got a ski mask that's been waiting on its shining moment,” she replies, screwing her lips up.

“Nique, please!” She laughs, shaking the juvenile visual from her head. “I'll tell him, but we're not fighting anybody.”

Ch 11

@sheabuttahwrites @soufcakmistress @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blackerthings @thegifstories @essaysbyciara @nayaxwrites @headcannonxgalore @twistedcharismaaa @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @abeautifulmindexposed @fujiiapples @harmshake @ghostfacekill-monger

[galaxychaos78]

unrequited love w/jean part 1

unrequited love w/jean part 2

unrequited love w/jean feels like triumph for Eren Jeager. He's all too giddy to show off whenever Jean is near; peppering kisses all over your face, pulling you close during hangouts. muttering sickly sweet words into your ears that have you giggling. He absolutely relishes in the way Jean's face falls, the way his hands clench into fists. You eat it all up too which is icing on the cake; becoming absolute putty in your boyfriend's hands and tugging him away to go make out in his dorm like horny teens. everything is so perfect and it seems like the smile never leaves his face. you're happy too and it shows. the way you and Eren are joined at the hip, the tight embraces shared when you meet each other outside of classes. the hushed whispers and giggles of inside jokes and the absolute adoration that adorns your faces. you're eren's everything; his stars, his moon, his sun.

it makes jean's heart ache.

he had you. he had you and was too stupid, too late to realize it. now you were giving someone else your time, your care, your love. he wasn't in your orbit anymore. hell, jean knew he hadn't even crossed your mind since you and eren became public. but he knows, he knows, that could change if he could talk to you. eren notices too, which is why he never leaves your side. because not only was jean trying to get you, suddenly random guys wanted you too. you're blissfully unaware of it all, attention solely focused on eren.

"i just need to talk to her and everything will be fine." jean concluded. connie nodded aimlessly and bit into his sandwich. sasha made a small "mmhm" noise as she bit into her burger. jean eyed his friends carefully. "you guys don't think it'll work?"

"jean," connie said with a huff. "you seriously need to get over (y/n). she's moved on! she's happy, finally happy!"

"yeah but-"

"dude no!" connie shouted, slamming his hands against the table. "i'm not about to let you sit here and ruin the best thing that's happened to (y/n)! you may not like eren, but she does and as her friend, i'm not letting you take that away from her." jean was stunned. connie was usually always taking jean's side. and sasha....he looked at sasha but the usually talkative girl was silent, unable to meet jean's gaze.

"eren makes (y/n) happy," sasha said firmly. "and she's our friend so..." jean saw the determined look in her face and the rage in her eyes. "so we'll do out best to make sure she's happy!"

"so what about me?" jean asked, feeling his body swirl up with anger, betrayal, sadness. "are we not friends?" connie rolled his eyes and got up to throw his garbage away.

"i'm not about to sit here and explain it to you man. let's go sasha." jean watched his two best friends walk away, leaving him alone. he was suddenly reminded of the way mikasa walked away from him. connie and sasha had tried to cheer him up and make him feel better, but he was stubborn. he only wanted you and completely shoved his other friends aside because he thought that you would come back and bring him up again like you always did. he sighed and started to walk back to the dorms. he was halfway there when he noticed eren sitting outside, no doubt waiting for you to get out of class. his mind begged him to not go over, but his emotions got the better of him. he stormed over and loomed like a dark cloud over eren. this was the guy that you loved? that all his friends defended? the guy that was fucking up the dynamic of the friend group?

"do you need something?" eren asked without looking up from his phone. the calmness in eren's voice pissed jean off something fierce.

"you think you're such a good guy huh? stealing my friends and making (y/n) hate me." eren looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "because of you, everyone thinks I'm the bad guy."

"dude you are and apparently you're severely delusional on top of it." jean scoffed. "but I know the real reason you're pissed," eren stepped up close to the man, cyan eyes boring into jean's brown ones. "you're pissed at me cause now you're no longer the top guy in the friend group. your friends-"

"my best friends."

"your friends are rightfully upset with you. I mean I would be too, you haven't asked about sasha's boyfriend or helped connie raise his grades because you're so focused on getting (y/n) back even though she. doesn't. want. you."

"i love (y/n). more than you ever will." jean said. eren chuckled to keep his emotions in check. he knew he shouldn't engage jean's pathetic attempts to piss him off, but he wasn't about to just take that. he stared jean down, his ego boosted slightly at him being slightly taller than jean.

"no you don't. you just loved the attention she gave you. you loved having someone comfort you and take care of you without having to put in any effort. you were a shitty friend to her and there's no doubt in my mind that you'd make an even shittier boyfriend."

"the fuck would you know about me being a shitty friend?" jean shouted, hands clenched into fist.

"dude everything!" eren shouted, shoving jean away from him. "you want me to remind you about the time you missed (y/n)'s birthday party so you could hook up with some girl you met online? or how about the time (y/n) planned a whole celebration dinner when you got accepted here, only for you to bail cause you had a date? or maybe it was the months and months of you straight up ignoring her for mikasa?" jean's eyes widened, but eren wasn't done. his anger was overflowing inside of him and he was going to let it all out.

"you're actually a moron if you think you "love" her. you had to have known she had a crush on you and instead of actually being a good fucking friend, you just string her along and use her emotions to your advantage. you didn't notice she was gone that entire time and you sure as fuck didn't care." jean's mouth opened to speak, but he closed it. "then, when your friend admits her feelings for you, you YELL at her. you tell her that you'd never feel any sort of romantic feelings for her and then just drop your friendship. and now suddenly, after you get rightfully dumped, you come crawling back spouting some crappy “i love you’s” and then ignore all of your other friends to chase down a person who doesn't want to have anything to do with you. does that seem like something a good friend would do?"

jean's eyes widened in shock. "how...how the hell do you know-"

"she got tired of you pushing her aside and came to me after you blew her off for mikasa for the billionth time. I was the one that told her to tell you how she feels because I saw how bad it was hurting her," this time eren stepped up to jean. sadness and fear swam in his eyes. "I have been the one comforting her and I have been the one to make her feel like she's worthy of love after you broke her heart. And if you think I'm gonna let you waltz in and break her heart again, then you're even more delusional than I thought." eren let his words wash over jean before sitting back down. he felt good, great even. he had finally let out all of his anger towards the man and now here he was. staring at eren with such a pathetic broken face. he loved you? you weren't the one who ended a multiple year long friendship for a relationship that didn't last in the end. you were just supposed to forget how he ignored you for months? How he yelled that he would never see you in a romantic way, and then proceeds to tell you that he's always loved you after his girlfriend broke up with him? Fuck Jean Kirstien.

eren watched as the door to the classroom opened and you walked out, eyes searching for someone and lighting up when you noticed eren. you started to rush over, but jean noticed your pace slow when you noticed him standing there. "hey 'ren...jean." jean's heart skipped a beat as your gaze met his. in the light of the afternoon sun, your eyes shone with a warmth that jean hadn't felt in a long time. were your eyes always this beautiful? "oh eren, Zeke texted me. he wanted to talk to you but you weren't answering your phone."

"why is Zeke texting you? hell how'd he even get your number?" eren grumbled as he fished his phone out of his pocket. you laughed and rested your head on eren's shoulder, giving your boyfriend a kiss on the cheek before plopping down on his lap. jean's eyes glided down the shape of your legs in the skirt you were wearing, jealousy coursing through him as eren's fingers skimmed against the soft skin.

"we've talked. remember you posted that picture of us on our date last week? he reached out and messaged me." jean looekd away as eren pinched your cheek affectionately. your eyes glanced all around as if you were unsure, before finally meeting jean's. he was stunned to say the least. has your skin always looked this soft? was your smile always that heart stopping? had your laugh always sounded that beautiful?

"is there a reason you're talking to eren?" even though the tone of your voice had shifted jean was overcome with how calm it sounded. unaware to jean however, you were fighting to keep your emotions in check. the two of you hadn't spoken, hadn't been this close since the fight. since jean denounced you as a friend. you took the time to strengthen your other friendships, new and old. ymir and historia welcomed you with open arms and friendly smiles. connie and sasha were hesitant on continuing a friendship with jean which you understood. the four of you had always been close and for a wedge that big to divide you all had severely messed up everything. they tried to cheer up jean after his breakup and you wanted to be there for him, truly you did. but everytime you went to unblock his number, his sharp and painful words pierced your thoughts. you couldn't imagine bringing someone like that back into your life. someone that was capable of bringing you to tears with a few harsh words. someone that knew your fears and insecurities and could twist them into insults.

"i...was...i-i just wanted to talk to you.." jean stammered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "i...i missed talking to you..." hearing jean stammer used to make your heart flutter. you used to get so giddy at being able to make him flustered, at seeing the way his cheeks would be dusted with the prettiest shade of red. now, it only made you upset.

"you missed me," you deadpanned. you watched jean's eyes widened and he swallowed hard. "yet..you were the one who didn't wanna be friends anymore.."

"(y/n)-"

"i guess i'm just confused," you continued, resting your cheek in your palm. "you ignore me for months, yell at me for finally admitting the feelings i've kept bottled inside for about 2 years, end our friendship and then when you get broken up with, you come crawling back to me for sympathy. not because you actually miss me, no, its cause you knew that i'd make you feel better. that i'd waste no time in bringing you up while hurting myself in the process, am I right?" your gaze never left his and jean squirmed. you wanted jean to know just how much this entire situation had hurt you. eren meanwhile, was filled with pride. he couldn't fight the smirk on his face as he watched jean struggle to think of something to say. he was absolutely over the moon seeing you stand up to jean. maybe this would be the wake up call he needed. shit he wished he had popcorn!

"(Y/N)-"

"am I right Jean?"

"ok maybe but-"

"tell me something," you said, resting your chin in your hands. "if you and mikasa were still together right now, would you be doing this?" you stared at him with rage in your eyes. you knew the answer, you just wanted to hear him say it for yourself. because a part of you, a stupidly naive part of you, wanted to hear him say yes. to hear him beg and plead for your forgiveness and that he would do anything to repair the broken friendship he screwed up. "would you be this desperate to get my friendship back if you were still with her?" you searched jean's face waiting for an answer, for an answer he had but wouldn't say.

eren knew the answer, which made him take both your hands in his and kiss your temple.

you knew the answer, which is why you gripped eren's hands and bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying.

and jean, as much as he wanted to lie, knew the answer. which is why he didn't stop the salty tears from falling down his cheeks. he didn't apologize as you and eren got up, he didn't try to reach out to you as you walked past. the ache in his heart spread to his body as he walked almost robotically to his dorm.

it was only in the silence of his room and in the darkness of the shadows, that jean let himself sob.

chaos says: this is the end! its honestly really bittersweet to have this story that's gotten so much love and praise end, but if you guys want, I'd be up for making a lil "where are they now?" type of prologue! but seriously thank you guys so much for sticking by this story and I hope it was worth the wait. Stay safe and happy holidays!💖💕

[raging-violets]

The Flash: The Christmas Light "Fight" - CiscoxAverey

Summary: Cisco and Averey talk about the truly important part of Christmas: stringed lights. 

Authored by: Rhuben

A/N: I’ve been meaning to do a holiday/Christmas themed thing for CiscoxAverey for a long time and every year the holidays just seem to come by faster and faster so, I came up with this verrrry last minute. But it’s still the holidays, so here you go!  

- 

-

“Ok!” Cisco’s declaration over the low hum of machines in the Cortex pulled Averey’s attention away from the carton of Chinese food in her hands. Seemingly giving up on trying to maneuver a chunk of chicken to her mouth with chopsticks, she rolled her head on her shoulders to look at him. “When you arrive at my parents’ place, the first thing you do is...?” 

“Greet everybody there or it’d be considered rude.” 

“And when it’s time to eat you...?” 

“Take everything that’s offered, or it’d be considered rude.” 

“And before we leave?” 

“Say ‘goodbye’ to everybody or it’d be considered rude.” 

“There you go,” Cisco said with a triumphant nod. “You really have nothing to worry about.” 

“I’m not worried,” Averey said swiftly. She emphasized her point as she rested her feet on the counter.  

Cisco felt his muscles tense just slightly thinking about how Caitlin would react to the move. But how many times had he done the same thing when keeping watch over the Pipeline inhabitants? He now knew ways to speed clean that not only would make The Flash jealous, but his old college dorm, too. 

“Mmhm.” 

“I’m no-o-ot,” Averey sing-songed. 

“O-ka-a-ay,” Cisco sing-songed back. 

Their soft laughter faded back into the low hum of the machines as they continued to eat. They didn’t necessarily need to keep watch over the metas in the Pipeline. It wasn’t like they had any place to go. But Cisco hadn’t liked the idea of them being kept in what amounted to solitary confinement during the holidays. It broke his wallet a bit, sure, but he did ask if there was anything more than Big Belly Burger they wanted for a “feast.” And he did try to lighten the mood with some festive music pumped throug the area, though a few metas quickly put the kibosh on any repeats of “Last Christmas” to which left Cisco aghast. 

“What kind of gifts do your parents like?” Averey asked, her cheek poking out from the mound of noodles, onion, and chicken she managed to get into her mouth.  

“I’ve already put your name on the tag,” Cisco replied, setting down his chopsticks to wave his free hand in the air. “Just go along with it. They’ll love it.” Averey laughed through her nose, hunching over her carton to make sure the waterfall of noodles hanging out of her mouth didn’t fall out. The steam briefly fogged up the lenses of her glasses, making her laugh harder until she could gather herself. 

“And what kind of decorators are they?” 

Cisco gave her a confused look and she put up a hand while she licked the lo mein sauce off her lips. She then put her hand over mouth.  

“I mean, do they put decorations up after Halloween, or do they wait until after Thanksgiving? And how much should I expect?” 

“You remember Dante’s birthday party?” Cisco asked. Averey nodded. “20 times more than that. Inside and outside. My parents love the holidays. Dad makes sure he’s not out on the road so he can end the year and start the new one with mom. And mom wants as much as her family around her, too.” He was silent for a moment, looking around the room. “Especially now, I suppose. After everything with S.T.A.R. Labs...and Dante...and everything.” 

He stared into his food, absentmindedly repeatedly stabbing at it with his chopsticks. It was hard enough for her to take care of the home by herself (though she’d insist she liked the space to do things her way) without his father around, but after seeing the danger Dante had been put in when Captain Cold was wreaking havoc, and how Cisco was still clawing his way back up to a reputable job in her eyes, and the frequent meta-human attacks, he couldn’t blame her for wanting to know her entire family was home safe. 

He cleared his throat. “You?” 

“Well, Christmas holidays falls at the time of year when it’s pretty hot outside so mum, Daniel, and I don’t decorate outside much. Anywhere under 30 Celsius is not too bad, but it’s gotten over 30 before. It’s a bonus if there aren’t any bushfires, either,” Averey said, tapping at her bottom lip with her chopsticks. “Everybody’s on the beach, or by the pool, or looking to sneak a swim in at the creek, so we’re not usually around home. Some do travel to get that ‘White Christmas’, but not a lot do. We tend to lean towards Christmas lunch being our big meal of the day. And it’s usually me, mum, Daniel, and my grandad, so not much to decorate inside, either. I have crackers for you lot, by the way.” 

It took a couple of seconds for Cisco to not only realize the sudden change in topic, but also that she wasn’t referring to food. 

“What about your parents and lights?” Averey asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

“My mum and Daniel fight about the Christmas lights every year,” Averey explained. “How to string them up. When to string them up. White Christmas lights or colored Christmas lights. When I was a kid, the fighting got so bad, I thought they’d split over it.” 

“No way.” 

“Really. They have strong opinions about Christmas lights.” Averey nodded emphatically; her eyebrows lifted. “I don’t know how they compromise every year. This year it’s white Fairy lights indoors and colored Christmas lights outdoors.” She slapped a hand down on the arm rest of her chair. “I swear, if more people knew that about each other from the jump, there’d be less fights this time of year.” 

“I’ll go ahead and make sure I put that in my dating app profiles,” Cisco said sarcastically. Averey rolled her eyes, the corners of her lips twitching upwards into a hint of a smile. He smiled innocently back at her. As if he’d still be on dating apps while he was with her. 

“You should. It’d be a right laugh, anyway. Very unique. Don’t reckon a lot of people do it, and it’s one thing to get out of the way.” 

“You think it’s that important to ask when you’re dating someone?” 

“It needs to be one of the things you should ask. Don’t you reckon?” Cisco stared at her. “Come on: ‘how serious do you see this getting’, ‘how do you want to raise your kids’, ‘do you want kids’, ‘where are you going to live if you move house together’, and ‘what Christmas lights do you prefer’ should be the big five questions of a relationship.” She put up a finger for each question before grasping her chopsticks again. “Seen mates drop each other over less things. For the record, I prefer white Christmas lights.” 

“Uggghhh!” Cisco dramatically flopped his head back on the headrest of his chair. 

“What?” 

He started twisting his desk chair back and forth, putting his head to his shoulder as he looked at her. “Come on! You can’t be serious.” 

“It’s classic!” 

“Classically boring. What’s wrong with all the colors?” 

“Nothing. But people can make them look gaudy if they’re not careful.” Averey’s nose wrinkled at the thought and Cisco found himself grinning. He shouldn’t have been surprised. She always said she hated obnoxious colors and patterns. “Like...like a circus threw up all over their house or something.” 

“What’s wrong with making your house look fun?” 

“There’s ‘fun’ and then there’s gaudy.” She let out a short, high-pitched laugh through her nose. “Not surprised you like them, though.” 

“Are you saying I’m gaudy?” 

Averey looked over his “Ugly Christmas Sweater” themed graphic t-shirt. Her face contorted in an over-exaggerated “Oh, honey” look. She said nothing else. He set down his food and grabbed the hem of his shirt in his hands, stretching it out to look at it. As if he hadn’t already done so and posted the pictures on his social media. 

It had The Flash’s lightning bolt logo on it, too.  

Central City had really expanded on The Flash’s notoriety since he had made his first appearance. First a drink at Jitters, then “The Flash” Halloween costumes, and now this. Barry was smug when he saw the drink available on the board at CC Jitters; he didn’t know what to do with himself when he got his first “The Flash” trick or treater; but he laughed when Cisco showed him the new holiday clothes that had been released. Then he had shook his head in somewhat embarrassment when Cisco struted into S.T.A.R. Labs with his own purchased shirt.  

He’d shake his head even more when he opened his gifts on Christmas day. 

“I don't know if I should be offended.” Cisco used his hands to push his hair back form his face as he settled back into his chair. 

“I’m saying it matches your personality. Fun.” 

“Awww, and yours matches your personality, too,” Cisco coo-ed, putting his hand over his heart. 

Averey’s eyes playfully narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Ave!” 

“What?” 

“Your favorite subject is History!” 

“So?” 

Cisco dropped his head back again, closed his eyes, and let out a loud, long, fake snore. Averey removed her feet from the desktop and prodded his thigh with the tip of her right shoe. 

“I’m not boring,” she said defensively. “And neither is History. Thank you very much,” 

“No,” Cisco agreed, a warm smile coming to his face, “you’re definitely not boring.” His smiled widened when he saw the blush that tinged Averey’s cheeks a berry-red kind of color. 

“Just...shut up and tell me what your fortune is,” Averey grumbled, setting down her carton of food. She reached for the pile of cookies, shoving a few towards him. Her head bowed, she quickly worked on the plastic wrap surrounding her own few. 

“Ok, ok.” Cisco carefully settled his fortune cookies in his lap and started removing the plastic from his as well. Cracking one open, he squinted in the dim light to read it. “’Don’t take yourself so seriously’,” Cisco read aloud, “’no one else does’.” He shoved the two halves of cookie into his mouth, crunching loudly as Averey tilted her head back and let out a loud cackle. A smile of amusement came to his face. “If it wasn’t so true, I’d be writing a strongly worded letter to these people. What does yours say?” 

“’Be patient. Good things come to those who wait’.” 

Cisco snorted. “What patience? You nearly bit off my arm just waiting for the food to be delivered.” 

“I’m a growing meta, Cisco.” Averey balled up the fortune between her fingers and tossed it at him. It bounced off his shoulder and hit the floor. “I need my food.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Ok, this one says, ‘Believing that you are beautiful, will make others around you think you’re beautiful, too’.” 

Averey grinned, reaching out a hand to slide her fingers through his hair. “With those gorgeous locs? Of course!” she declared. “What a beaut!” 

“You’re too kind,” Cisco laughed. “Even I have to agree, I do have great hair.” 

Averey retracted her hand from his hair and opened her next fortune cookie. “’You have an unusually magnetic personality.’” 

Cisco grabbed the arm of Averey’s chair, pulling her closer to him (ignoring her protests of “Wait! My food!” as she hastily tried to grab for it.) He smiled at her and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “I sure think so,” he said quietly. Averey smiled and cupped his cheek with her hand before pressing a kiss to his lips. And another. And another. Cisco pressed his forehead to hers, looping an arm around her shoulders when she pulled away. He read her next fortune over her shoulder, “’You are contemplating some action, which will bring credit upon you.’”  

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Soooo going ‘round to your parents for Christmas?” she asked, looking up at him. 

“I’d say so. It’d give me brownie points to start off next year, anyway,” Cisco’s eyes then widened and he snapped his fingers. “Oh! And what do you need to stay away from while you’re there?” 

“Your aunt’s eggnog.” 

“That’s my girl,” Cisco cheered, pumping his fist. Averey laughed through her nose. “If white Christmas lights are your one flaw, I’ll just have to accept it.” 

“Hey!” 

“Come on. I mean...” Cisco looked around the room before getting to his feet. “Look, even this is pretty.” He made his way over ot the Cortex light switch, making a show of flipping the switch into the OFF position. All the main lights in the space went out immediately, leaving the lights from the machines on. Reds, greens, blues, and whites all twinkling and blinking in the space. “See?” He stepped over to her chair, kneeling beside her, watching as she took in all of the lights around them, the lights reflected off the lenses of her glasses. 

“And there we’ve got our giant red Christmas tree,” she joked, indicating the light shining over The Flash suit. “Ok. I see your point.” She smiled at him. “Happy Christmas, Cisco.” 

-

Tag List: @ocappreciationtag @darknightfrombeyond @witchofinterest @hogwarts-is-my-wonderland @foxesandmagic @ochub - And if anyone wanted to be added to any of our tag lists, or just all of them, let us know :)

[bells-of-black-sunday]

He must’ve not heard Tarhos come in, not when his usual cool demeanor had been thrown out the window as Bonnie had him pinned under her; a thousand kisses being delivered to his face. Giggles bubbled out of him, his feet kicked and he held his dog with the most “uwu” baby talk his deeper toned voice could manage. “Ohhh, don’t give me those big baby eyes, Bon Bon! Mmhm mhm, you know you were such a good girl today - do you want daddy to make you a wittle booorgor for the wittle baby girllll? Yeah? Ok ok, we won’t tell - it’ll be our little secret~!”

Tarhos had just come home from work an early day for sure, but welcome none-the-less though as he closed the door and let his hair down he couldn't help, but smirk at the voice coming from the other room. He slowly approached leaning against the door frame, "A burger, huh?" He couldn't help how amused he looked. It wasn't often he got to see his boyfriend like that and well... it was cute. Even cuter that he was letting himself be that vulnerable.

[ds-randy]

Have you ever made burgers for Bobby and Hacker ( and you)?? I'm thinking this when im eating burger rn

Mmhm. A few times, Bobby didn't like it too much and Hacker could barely finish his.

[secretxxpaladaiseu]

because now I wouldn’t feel bad about shitty burgers if you told me it wasn’t good for you. I would have made something ten times better than the burgers and ramen. That’s why.

you’re a sexy asshole though mmhm.

Yeah, well, I decided to give you the rest of the night off. Too bad, so sad, deal with it and enjoy the sleep you got. Though you did get to miss me walking around in just a t-shirt. Sexy asshole and all peeking out.

[noneedtofearorhope]

bring back epic lawlz pre-breakdown samples

[hrts4tsumu]

INDECISIVE

“what d’ya want to eat for dinner baby” your bf asked you while scrolling through his phone.

“hmm i dunno rin how ‘bout you pick.”

“okay d’you wanna eat burgers?” “no ‘m not in the mood for that” you said wrapping your arms around his torso. resting your head on his shoulder as he rested his head on yours.

“pasta?” he suggested. “no i can’t rin my stomach is gonna hurt tomorrow” you whined.

“fine how about sushi. i’ve been craving that for awhile.” “i ate that two days ago babe.”

rintarou lifted his head up to turn and look at you with a blank stare. “what” you said leaning closer to him. he continued to stare you down without a word and you were confused. “rin why’re you just staring at me” you asked questioning his actions.

“are you serious” he questioned back. “serious about what?” “baby i don’t know what you want to eat.” “i told you rin you can choose.” “i’ve been suggesting foods and you turned them all down” he huffed. “i’m sorry babe but i really don’t know what to eat” you stated pouting at him.

“fine then i’m gonna pick something and you can’t object to it” rintarou declared. “mmhm that’s fine with me then” agreeing to his statement. “‘m gonna order a large pizza.”

“wait but rin i ate pizza yesterday” you said hoping he can change his mind. “no i told you i’m picking the food and you have no say” he said back. “but rinn please.” “nope too late i already ordered it” rintarou argued back.

“you’re like a little kid” he jokingly said while smiling. “you’re gonna end up eating it anyways after complaining” he said kissing your forehead and getting up. “you’re annoying you know that right” you scowled. “you love me though” rin said while stretching his arms and legs. “i guess so” you accepted.

sometimes you’re glad you have rintarou here to help you make choices like these.

[rainiishowers]

Stories Of Us Together | Beelzebub x Writer! MC |

A/N: For The Hive’s Queen Bee aka @beels-burger-babe ♥♥ Summary: The twins are in the human world, and they come across a book that Beel feels oddly drawn to.. Genre: Fluff Warnings: Quickly proofread ig, may be a little cliché.

--------------- “Belphie, do you think MC would like some human food take out? They told me that there’s this restaurant that they like” “With the amount of food you have bought for them, Beel, it could make them sick, remember how humans can’t stomach as much food as you can?” “Oh.. Right-”   They continue walking until they came to a bookstore. Beel saw a book on the front window and he stops to stare at it. Belphie stops and looks at his twin. “Beel? What’s the hold up?” He asks, walking beside Beel, who quickly snaps back to reality and looks at his twin. “Oh, sorry.. Can we buy this book, Belphie?” He asks. “Ehh? Why? What’s so special about it?” The sleepy youngest raises an eyebrow. Beel points to the name at the bottom of the book, having your pen name he remembered from when he asked about it. “That’s MC’s pen name” He says. Belphie sighs and gives him some money. “You go buy it and I’ll wait out here” Beel smiles and hugs him before walking in and going to talk to the cashier. He didn’t know what was up with that book but along with it being MC’s pen name, he felt drawn to it... Like it was meant for him. --------------- Beel closes te door behind him, Belphie was sleeping somewhere else and he knew you were out with Simeon and Luke. Along with the snacks and candies he has gotten for your guys movie tonight, he had the book. As he opens the bag, the gentle giant reminded himself to pay back Belphie later. He took out the book and took out the book. The cover was a sunset and the title was called “Stories Of Us Together” He opens it and sat down to read it. The more he read, the more it started to click that it was about him and you. The protagonist was a struggling author, yet always got high praise when they did share her stories, and the protagonist’s love interest was a man who was her next door apartment neighbor, described as large and seemingly intimidating, but when they got to know each other, he was just a good and well meaning guy. He was always there to protect the protagonist and the adventures they would have were always entertaining, like one time they were taking care of a puppy that the protag helped the man watch for a friend. He was so interested in reading that hearing a knock on the door surprised him. “Come in” He calls out. You walk in, closing the door behind you and tiredly walk, almost staggering, over to him. He looks down at you as you sat beside him and rested your head on his shoulder, letting out a long sigh. “Hey, sorry I took so long, Luke was rather hyper today and wanted to do lots of things” You chuckle. “Like a puppy?” He asks. You nod and notice the book he was reading. “Ooo, watcha reading?” You peek over and he looks back at the page he was on. “Your book, ‘Stories Of Us Together’ .. When Belphie and I went to the human world to get some groceries and other stuff, I saw a book with your pen name.” He explains. You smile a bit. “I assume you get the references?” You nudge him. He nods. “When they took care of the puppy, it was like back when we took care Luke and ended up in the underground tomb.” He beams happy. “Mmhm!”  A comfortable silence filled the air before you nuzzle into his shoulder and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you down on the bed so you end up on his chest. Laughter fills the room as the both of you cuddled each other. You hum and turn to look at the bag of candies and snacks for your guys movie tonight tonight. “Pfft- If we eat all of that, I won’t be able to function properly tomorrow-” You told him. “We can save some of it for later, I wouldn’t want you to pass out during RAD tomorrow--” He says. “Yea, me neither” You snort.  “..So is there going to be a second book to the book you made?” “We’ll see.. Right now, why don’t we start that movie now, hm?”

[mldrgrl]

The Matchmaker

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary:  Based on this old prompt I got, which I originally said I couldn’t handle, but then inspiration struck and I had to roll with it.  

Scully has only just barely opened the door to the dark office when Mulder is shoving a file into her hands and closing the door behind her.  The projector is on, but the screen is blank, just white square of light and Mulder’s silhouette as he takes her to-go cup of coffee from her hands so she can shrug out of her overcoat.

“Once upon a time,” he says, handing her coffee back to her.

“Really, Mulder?  Once upon a time?”

He smirks good-naturedly and snatches up the remote to the projector to advance to the first slide.  “Once upon a time there was a little tiny tree in a great big forest in New Hampshire.”

“Mmhm.”  

Scully tucks the unopened file under her arm and passes through the warm light of the slide projector to put her satchel down at her workstation.  She takes a momentary glance at a grainy, black and white photo of a large tree and sips her coffee.

“Estimates have placed this particular tree to be somewhere around 400 years old.  This is the earliest photo of it I could find, in the Manchester Daily from 1929.”

“Did someone cut this tiny little tree down and release a great big swarm of deadly mites like the ones we encountered in Washington state?”

“No, nothing like that.”  Mulder winces and scratches the back of his head before advancing to the next slide, another black and white photo from a different angle, wider so that the tree in question stands small and alone in the middle of a field against a backdrop of mighty oaks and firs and pines.    

“Well?” she asks.

“Did you know there are countless legends about enchanted trees?  Trees with magical powers, trees that have the ability to heal or harm or grant wishes or foretell the future?”

“Folklore.”

“Every single culture has some kind of legend about the power of a tree.”

“Mulder, you once tried to tell me the same thing about Bigfoot.”

He ignores the wisecrack and clicks through his slides, narrating the images that appear on the screen.  “The Jinmenju tree in Japan is said to have fruit with human faces that laugh at people who happen to walk by.  There’s the sacred Norse tree Yggdrasil, center of the cosmos and where the Gods gather for daily court.  In Iranian mythology the Bas tokhmak is said to contain seeds that eliminate sorrow and despair.  And the Hungarian égig érő fa or sky-high tree that only selected shamans are entitled to climb and encounter magical worlds in the clouds.”

“Sounds suspiciously similar to Jack and the Beanstalk.”

“And then there’s the Hart’s Location Flame Thrower Redbud.”    

Scully presumes the new slide is the same tree that was in black and white at the start of the slideshow, only now it’s in color.  The leaves are multicolored, mostly red and purple, but some are so dark they’re nearly black.  Though small, the tree stands out in sharp contrast to the yellow fieldgrass, blue sky, and the green trees behind it.

“Well, it’s certainly beautiful,” she says.

“The locals call it The Matchmaker.”

Scully snorts softly.  “And why is that?” she asks.

“If you open up that file I so generously put together for you, you’ll find newspaper clippings from the past half-century, most of them wedding announcements, citing this tree as a key to what led these couples to a happy union.”

“Mulder...you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Of course with any good legend, there’s a catch.”

“Of course there is.”  She puts her coffee down and opens the file, but doesn’t take more than a passing glance at the pages she flips through.

“From what I can gather, and keep in mind this is the Cliff’s Notes version of things, people believe the tree can predict compatibility in couples who make the pilgrimage there.”

“And how, pray tell, does the tree do this?”

“Glad you asked!”  Mulder advances the next slide, a close up photo of the left hand of a woman.  The ring finger is disfigured in some way, appearing to Scully to almost resemble a twig.

“What the hell am I looking at, Mulder?”

“You’re looking at an example of what might happen if a couple is not compatible.  There’s an online Usenet group dedicated to finding matches for anyone who’s had, let’s say, experiences with the tree that have left them unrequited.”

“Unrequited?”

Mulder scrolls through the next few slides without comment.  There’s another photo of the side of a woman’s face with what appears at first to be a small pinecone earring, but on closer look the pinecone is actually attached to the earlobe.  There’s another of a hand, masculine this time, with veins that look like tree roots creeping up from wrist to knuckles.  The last one is a forearm covered with a thin layer of moss.

“They say the only way to reverse the effects is by true love’s touch.”

“True love’s touch,” she repeats.

“Hope you’ve got your hiking boots ready and an overnight bag in the car,” he says, clicking over to an aerial photo of a forest.  “We’re headed to a little town on the outskirts of Crawford Notch State Park.”

She tries not to sigh in response.

*****

The flight to Manchester is less than two hours and they arrive just before noon.  Scully has flipped through the file Mulder gave to her, and though the clippings make for amusing anecdotes, she sees nothing noteworthy or remarkable.

“What exactly is your interest in this case,” Scully asks, buckling her seatbelt after she takes her usual navigational seat in their rental car.  “Not that I even believe there actually is a case here, let alone an x-file.”

“You don’t think it’s unusual just how many couples cite that tree as a turning point in their relationships?”

“Not really.”

“You’re not even a little curious?”

“About what?”

“The tree.”

“Quite honestly, I’m far more curious about what you’re going to buy me for lunch than I am about a matchmaking tree.”

He chuckles.  “Ah, well, lucky for you our first stop happens to be a diner not too far from here.”

“Yes, lucky me.”

*****

The diner resembles a small cabin and is nestled amongst the trees off the side of the road.  She doesn’t want to admit it, but the drive so far has been beautiful.  The highway is narrow and tree-lined and it’s autumn.  Miles upon miles of yellows and reds and golds and greens and oranges.  To say that the road is picturesque would be an understatement.

The little cabin-diner is warm and cozy.  A wood-burning stove is on in one corner, easily heating the small space.  There’s a long counter with swivel-seats dividing the cabin in half, lengthwise, and four booths pressed up against the front windows, two on either side of the door.  Only one man sits at the counter, sipping coffee and reading a newspaper.  He looks up briefly when Mulder and Scully enter, but immediately returns his attention to his newspaper.

A waitress in an emerald green, button-down dress and starch white apron comes out from behind the counter with two menus.  She smiles congenially as she says good afternoon and waves to the booths.

“Take your pick,” she says.

Mulder looks to Scully and she sees him glance at the counter.  She nods and cuts her eyes to the nametag pinned above the pocket of the woman’s uniform.  “The counter is fine,” she says.  “Janet.”

“Sure.”  Janet turns and her blonde curls bounce lightly against her back.  Her shoes squeak as she makes her way back to the other side of the counter and places the menus down side by side.

“What do you recommend?” Mulder asks.

“Can’t ever go wrong with a burger,” Janet answers, pulling an order booklet out of her apron pocket.  “But, the special today is meatloaf.  And the soup is tomato bisque.”

“I’ll do the burger.  Medium well.  Is that pie under that dome back there?”

“Pecan.”

“More of a sweet potato guy.”

“Yeah, me too.  Well, sweet potato girl.”  Janet laughs and winks and Mulder chuckles and nods.

Scully clears her throat and slaps her menu down on the counter so hard that Mulder jumps.  “I’ll have the chicken salad,” she says, pushing the menu towards Janet.  “Balsamic vinaigrette on the side, if you have it.”

“Sure.”

Janet swipes the menus from the counter, scribbles their orders down and rips the paper from the pad to slide it through a small window behind her.  Scully adjusts her napkin and cutlery as Mulder swivels towards her and leans in close with his elbow on the counter and his hand across his forehead.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you being hostile to the witness.”

“The witness?”

Mulder inclines his head towards Janet and then raises his eyebrows.  “Did you even read the file?”

“I gave it a glance.”

“Janet is one of the unrequited.”

“Too bad for Janet.”

Mulder narrows his eyes a little at her and puckers his lips to form a question.  She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly feeling so catty, she just does.  No, that’s not true.  She does know why she’s feeling catty.  The past year her partnership has felt like a game of ping pong, bouncing between extreme highs and extreme lows.  And the wedge that was driven between them by Diana Fowley, may she rest in peace, is not far enough in the rear view mirror for her liking.  They’re on the mend, both professionally and personally, but she still can’t help but feel threatened in some way when Mulder turns the charm on with strangers.

“I’ll stop being hostile if you stop flirting,” she blurts out, regretting not only what she’s just said, but the way in which it flies out of her mouth.

“Flirting?”

“Forget it.”

“Flirting?”

“Nevermind.”  

Mulder straightens in his seat and puts both hands flat on the counter.  Scully rolls her shoulders back and tucks her chin down.  She lets her hair fall across her cheeks to hide her embarrassment.  Janet is suddenly there in front of them again, two glasses of water in her hands.

“Didn’t even ask if you folks wanted something to drink,” she says.

“Got any iced tea?” Mulder asks.

“Sure do.”

“Two lemons, please.”

“And for the lady?”

“I’ll just have the water, thank you,” Scully says.

Janet is gone for what feels like only seconds before she’s bringing a glass of iced tea to Mulder and a small glass dish of lemon slices.  Mulder thanks her warmly and for some reason, that makes Scully feel even more chagrined.

“Janet,” Mulder says, reaching into the interior breast pocket of his jacket to grab his ID.  “My name is Agent Mulder and this is Agent Scully.  My partner and I are actually on an assignment right now that you might be able to help us with.”

“Me?”

“Have you ever been out to see a tree they call The Matchmaker?”

The smile on Janet’s face wavers and then fades into a frown.  She stands stock still for a few moments and then grabs a rag from the side of the counter as though she’s about to clean something, but then just twists it nervously her hands.

“What do you know about it?” she asks.

“Not much, which is why we’re here.  We know from our preliminary investigation that you’re amongst the group that calls yourselves the unrequited.”

Janet nods slowly.  “That’s not...a crime, is it?”

“No, no.  We’re trying to determine if you might be the victim of one though.  It’s my understanding your contact with the tree has left you with some sort of affliction.”

Janet nods again and then hesitates before tucking the rag in her hands into her waistband and coming around the counter.  Both Mulder and Scully turn in their seats and Janet turns her back to both of them.  She lifts the hair up off her neck and it’s then that Scully’s interest is finally piqued.  The back of Janet’s neck is rough and scaly, resembling tree bark.  Scully whips a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and leans closer to Janet.

“Do you mind if I…?” Scully asks.

Janet glances over her shoulder at Scully, looks at the gloves she’s pulling on, and then nods her head.  “Go ahead,” she answers.

“Agent Scully is a medical doctor,” Mulder says, unnecessarily.  

Scully gently prods the ridges at the back of Janet’s neck.  It appears as though the skin is very dry and may flake away, but in reality it’s very thick and does not give at all.  Mulder hovers over Scully, his chin nearly touching her shoulder.

“It could be an allergic reaction,” Scully says.  “It appears to be a localized eczema.  Have you seen a dermatologist?”

“I’ve been to every dermatologist in the area,” Janet answers, dropping her hair and turning back around.  “They’ve done biopsies, tried laser removal, creams, gels, cryotherapy, the whole nine yards.  No one knows what it is or how to treat it.”

“And you think the tree that Agent Mulder mentioned earlier has something to do with this?”

“Oh, I know it does.  I was foolish enough to ignore the warnings and so...well, now I’m one of the unrequited.”

“I see.”

“Can you walk us through how it happened?” Mulder asks.

“It was about five years ago now, I was a senior in high school.  Me and my boyfriend at the time, Anthony, we thought it would be like a funny thing to do just before graduation.  We’d been together all through high school, grown up on the same block, and we were planning on getting married the next fall.”

Scully lets her eyes drop momentarily to Janet’s hands and notes the absence of a ring on her finger.  

“You knew of the stories before you went up there?” Mulder asks.

“Oh yeah,” Janet answers.  “I mean, if you’re from around here, you hear all about it from the time you’re a kid.  And everyone wants to brag about it, you know?  You hear from all your friends, my parents touched The Matchmaker and then got married, but no one wants to talk about the other side of it.”

“You and Anthony?” Scully asks.  “You never married?”

“Well, how could we?  He wasn’t the one.”

“According to the tree.”

“If it was true love, I wouldn’t be afflicted.”

“You really believe that?”

Janet points to her neck.  “I didn’t until this happened.”

“You didn’t believe in the legend when you went there?” Mulder asks.

“Not really.  Who would believe that a tree could do this?”

“You folks need to talk to Hattie Vale,” the man at the other end of the counter suddenly pipes up, even though he doesn’t even look up from his newspaper.

“Hattie Vale?” Mulder asks, swiveling in his seat to face the older man.

“Mmhm.”  He nods once and turns the page of his paper.  “That cursed tree is part of her legacy.  Janet, I’ll take my check now, if you please.”

“You got it, Wallace.”  Janet gives Scully a wry smile before she heads behind the counter again, ripping a page out of her booklet.

“Can you tell us how to find Miss Vale?” Mulder asks.

“Take the red bridge about a mile inside the entrance of Crawford Notch. Sign’ll say private property, but it’s just to try to keep looky-loos away from the tree.”  Wallace takes a few bills out of his wallet and puts them on the counter.  “Thank you, Janet.”

“See you tomorrow,” Janet says.

“Miss Vale lives out by the tree?” Mulder asks.

Wallace folds his newspaper and then stands and tucks it under his arm.  “Go right at the fork, that’ll take you to Hattie.  Go left, that’ll take you to The Matchmaker.  And take my advice, don’t touch that tree.”  

“You have a personal experience you’d like to share with us?”

“No.”  Wallace pulls a hat out from his jacket pocket, slaps it on his head, and walks out of the diner.

“Why do I not believe him?” Mulder says to Scully as he turns back to face the counter.

*****

Hattie Vale’s home is exactly where Wallace says it would be.  While the diner was a faux cabin, Hattie’s place is the real deal.  Scully would not be surprised if it did not have running water or electricity.

The woman that greets them on the porch is both ancient and spry.  She’s stocky and squarely built, wearing a thin housedress and a hand-knit sweater and moccasins on her feet.  Two long, grey braids fall over her shoulders to her hips.  Her face is sunburnt and weathered, deep lines in her forehead and at the sides of her mouth.  She grins broadly, revealing a handful of missing teeth.

“I had a feeling I might get visitors today,” she says.  “And here you folks are.”

“Are you Hattie Vale?” Mulder asks.

“Sure am.  Who’s asking?”

“My name is Agent Mulder, this is Agent Scully.”  He stops at the edge of the porch and holds up his badge and Scully does the same.

“That supposed to impress me or something?”

“Ah, no Ma’am,” Mulder says, chuckling as he tucks his ID back into his pocket.  “We’re investigating some unexplained afflictions associated with a tree in these parts referred to as The Matchmaker.”

“You’re about three centuries too late for that, bub.”

“Forgive me for my tardiness.”

Hattie laughs heartily at Mulder’s joke and Scully has to fight not to roll her eyes at him when he gives a pleased grin in her direction.

“Come on in, I got coffee I can put on.”

“That’s not necessary, Mrs. Vale, we only want to ask a few questions,” Scully says.

“Come on in anyway, let me put my feet up.”

Mulder hops up the stairs onto the porch and Scully trudges up behind him.  She’s surprised to find that the cabin actually does have electricity and is fairly tidy and well-furnished.  The large room is a combination kitchen, dining area and living space.  Hand-woven rugs are strategically placed on the wood floors.  Knitted blankets are draped over the couch and a lounge chair.  There’s no TV, but there is a transistor radio perched on a folding tray next to the chair.

Hattie plops herself down into the lounger and pulls a lever to extend the footrest.  She leans back with her hands over her belly and flexes her toes inside her moccasins.

“How long have you lived out here?” Mulder asks, waiting for Scully to take a seat before he perches himself at the edge of the couch.

“Well, I was born here, so I figured I might as well die here too, but I did move out to Vermont for a time when I got married.  After I raised my kids and my husband passed, I thought it was as good of time as any to come back.  That would’ve been somewhere around 1942, I think.”

“That was fifty-seven years ago,” Mulder says.  “You had already raised your kids and been widowed by then?”

Hattie laughs again.  “I was born in 1885.”

“You’re 114 years old?”

“Don’t look a day over 100, do I?”  She wiggles her shoulders a little and lifts her brows.  Even Scully has to smile in amusement.

“Mrs. Vale,” Scully starts.

“Hattie, please.  Never liked formalities.  So stuffy.”

“Hattie, can you tell us anything about the tree?”

“Maybe why some might say it’s cursed,” Mulder adds, and Scully grimaces.

“A curse?  Bah.  Sounds like you’ve been talking to my grandson.”

“Who’s your grandson?” Mulder asks.

“Name is Wallace Byrd.  He’s my girl Rosemary’s boy.”

Mulder and Scully give each other a glance.  “We did...happen to run into someone named Wallace,” Mulder says.

“Wally had a bad go of it when he was a young man.  He blames the tree for it, silly boy.”

“So, you don’t think it’s cursed?”

“Not at all, the tree is blessed, if anything.”

“Do you happen to know how it came to be blessed?”

“Oh yes, I can tell you exactly how it came to be.”

There’s a twinkle in Hattie’s eyes as she starts to tell the story of the tree, one that makes Scully even more dubious and Mulder even more interested.

“My four times great grandfather, Jean-Luc Benoit, came to this area from Quebec City in the first half of the 1700s,” Hattie says.  “There was a Winnipesaukee tribe that lived nearby and they traded goods often.  Jean-Luc fell in love with a squaw from the village called Little Flower, and she with him, much to her father’s dismay.  Sensing that Jean-Luc was going to ask for his blessing to marry his daughter, her father met with some of the elders of the village and they told him he would have to ask the white man to pass a test of his true love if he were to take one of their women away.”

Mulder nods encouragingly at Hattie and then grins at Scully.  His enjoyment of the tale is palpable.  She keeps her gaze straight ahead, afraid she might slip and very unprofessionally roll her eyes at him.

“Little Flower’s father took the advice of the elders,” Hattie continues.  “Except, he decided he was going to give the would-be suitor an impossible task.  He told Jean-Luc to plant a seed, and only when that seed had flourished and become a tree, could he have his daughter’s hand in marriage.  Jean-Luc said his love was unhurried and he would plant the tree and wait as long as it took.  A ceremony was held for the planting and to everyone’s astonishment, the tree grew overnight.”    

“Overnight?” Mulder asks.  “Incredible.”

“I’ll say,” Scully murmurs.

“But, that wasn’t to be the end of it,” Hattie says.  “Little Flower’s father was distraught by the turn of events.  Instead of turning to the elders as he had before, this time he went directly to the tree, believing the Gods may have grown the tree as punishment for his trickery.  He apologized for his wrongdoing and pleaded with the tree for a sign that would show him that Jean-Luc was worthy.  When he went home, his village was in chaos.  They told him that right before their eyes, his daughter had started growing leaves where her hair was and roots where her feet were and that she reached up to the sky and her arms became limbs and her fingers became branches.”

“She turned into a tree?” Mulder asks.

“So they say.  Little Flower’s father was distraught and horrified.  He tried pulling her feet from the earth, but the roots just grew deeper.  When he saw that he could do nothing, he ran to Jean-Luc and asked for his help.  The instant that Jean-Luc touched the tree that Little Flower had become, she was restored to her human self.”

“And since then, people have come to ask the tree to show them who their true love is?” Mulder asks.

“That’s about right.  Mostly locals though, passing the story along to their children and grandchildren.”

“Mrs. Vale, Hattie, are you aware of any pesticides that may have been sprayed around the tree or perhaps any poisonous foliage that might surround the area?” Scully asks.

Hattie shrugs.  “Been years since I’ve been out by that tree.  The state took that part of the land years ago when they formed the park.”

“Have you heard about people coming away from the tree with afflictions?” Mulder asks.  “Skin problems, or physical ailments of some kind?  You said your grandson, Wallace, believes the tree to be cursed.  Has he been suffering from an ailment after contact?”

“Ailments?  No.  Broken heart is more like it.  Wallace brought his sweetheart out to the tree before he proposed.  He was a believer in the legend and said the tree showed him that Corrine, that was his girl, was his true love.  A week before their wedding she was killed in an automobile accident.  He never got over it.  Now, he thinks the tree cursed him to a life alone.  I tried to tell him many times not to take stock in that tale.  It’s just a tale, after all.”

“So, you don’t believe in the legend?” Mulder asks.

“Believe in a tree that grows overnight and wraps a girl up in branches?”  Hattie laughs.  “You’d have to be crazy to believe in that kind of thing.”

It’s Scully’s turn to grin and Mulder smiles good-naturedly.  He stands, and Scully does as well.  

“Thank you for your time,” Scully says.

“Could you tell us, what’s the best way to reach the tree from here?”

“Once you cross back over the bridge head due west.  The ‘no trespassing’ signs should lead you right to it.”

*****

It really is a stunning tree, Scully thinks, as they stand before it.  The photos didn’t do it justice.  The sun shines onto the top of the tree, making it look alive with red-purple flames.  The branches curve out and the leaves cascade like a waterfall.  The field grass flutters in the wind like a golden wave around their feet and the leaves of all the trees that surround them shake and rustle.  She has to brush her hair from her eyes and away from her cheeks.

“Well, I guess we should take a look,” Mulder says.

“What is it that we’re looking for?” she asks.

“You tell me.”

“I don’t know, Mulder, I’m not a botanist.  Plants aren’t something I ever took a strong interest in.  I’m not even sure I’d truly be able to identify poison ivy if I came across it.”

“Leaves of three, let them be.”  Mulder smiles as he pulls on a pair of gloves.  “Something we used to say as kids to avoid it when we were camping.”

“And somehow I’m guessing you still managed to pull your share of rashes.”

“I don’t know where these baseless accusations are coming from, but I will neither confirm nor deny the generous supply of Calamine Lotion my mother kept on hand for such occasions.”

Scully snorts softly and pulls her own pair of gloves on.  Mulder is already crouching before the tree, running his hand over the dirt. He picks up a fallen leaf and twirls it by the stem.

“It looks like a heart,” he tells her, turning it upside down and holding it up between pinched fingers.  He’s right.  

“Bag it,” Scully says, handing him a plastic bag.  “We’ll need soil samples as well.  Maybe scrape some bark off as well.”

“I take it your theory is the tree is toxic?”

“Perhaps.”

“Mmhm.”  Mulder seals up the leaf and stands back up.  “Any of those poisonous plants you mentioned before known to cause skin irritations for over five years?”

“Mulder, I’m fairly certain that contact with this tree is merely coincidence.  Take Janet, for example, she could have daily exposure to an allergen without even knowing it, causing that rash at the back of her neck, her laundry detergent, for example.”

“Something that all of the dermatologists she’s been to have failed to diagnose?”

“I’m only saying that there are more probable explanations for why someone would develop a skin irritation than a centuries old legend.”

“Probable, but not implausible,” he says.

“Mulder, you’re crazy,” she answers with a shake of her head and a small laugh.

He pockets the plastic-wrapped leaf and then walks away from her to circle the tree.  Scully studies the lush mane of leaves, trying to determine the best possible way to part them and reach the trunk.  She puts her hands into a gap and a few birds fly up and out of the tree in a panic, their wings flapping wildly.  She jumps back, heart racing.  A sudden breeze ruffles the back of her hair and she shivers.  Goosebumps prick her arms, but she isn’t cold.  Her shoulder pulls up automatically as the inside of her ear is tickled with what feels like a soft whisper.

“Mulder?”  She turns, but no one is there.  She hurries to the other side of the three and spots Mulder a few yards away, looking up into the white pines that border the clearing.

Scully turns back to the tree and finds another gap in the leaves to part.  She cautiously pushes them aside and finds she’s able to lift a section back and step under the canopy of branches.  Hunching slightly, she pulls her pocketknife out and scrapes a bit of bark from the thin trunk and bags it.  She crouches down to collect some dirt as well.  As she straightens her knees, her heel comes back and catches on a tree root and she stumbles.  Her first instinct is to throw her arm out and her hand smacks into the tree trunk.  She can feel the bark bite into her palm through her glove and the inside of her wrist is scraped in her efforts to prevent herself from falling.

“Dammit,” she mutters, wobbling into her hunched position and letting go of the tree.  She pulls the sleeve of her blazer up to inspect her hand.  There’s debris on her glove and the inside of her wrist is scratched red, but the skin wasn’t broken and she’s not bleeding.  She rotates her wrist a few times and fortunately it doesn’t feel sprained, just a little sore.

“Scully!” Mulder calls.

“Yeah,” she answers, warily.

“Where are you?”

“In here.”  She can hear the crunching of the field grasses and leaves underfoot as Mulder approaches.  She pulls the cuff of her sleeve down over her wrist before pushing the leaves aside like drapery and steps out from the canopy.

“You have…”  Mulder approaches and reaches up to pluck a leaf from her hair.

“Thanks.”

“It matches,” he says, twirling the red leaf softly against the ends of her hair.

A breeze comes up again and that same whisper and tickle of her ear returns.  She shivers again and moves her hand up to take the leaf from Mulder, but he pulls it back and puts it in his pocket.

“Find anything interesting?” he asks.

“Bagged up some bark and some dirt.”

“You ask the tree if it was cursed?”

“I did.”

“What was the answer?”

“Stop letting your crackpot partner talk you into fruitless jaunts to the forest.”

Mulder chuckles.  “There is some poison oak in the woods up there.  You’ll be happy to know I steered clear.”

“Wonderful,” she says, wincing as her wrist burns slightly when she peels off her gloves.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You think those are storm clouds rolling in over there?”

She nods slightly, rotating her wrist in her pocket.  It’s beginning to itch.

“I guess we should probably head out then?”

“No argument from me.”

*****

They leave New Hampshire with nothing more than the samples and family legends.  Mulder finally accepts there isn’t much of a case to be had, especially when they can’t find any other afflicted locals to speak with, and they return home.  They run the samples through the lab, but the results don’t account for any toxins.

A week passes and Scully’s wrist doesn’t seem to stop itching.  It’s at its worst during the day at work and seems to calm at night when she goes home.  She sees a dermatologist who can’t find anything wrong, but gives her a prescription for an anti-itch cream that does nothing to help.

They’re out of town again, on a case in Iowa.  She shouldn’t be relieved to be doing autopsies again, but it’s been awhile since she’s been in a morgue and not out in the field.  She’s either too busy to notice her itching wrist, or it miraculously ceases to bother her for the day.  When she’s back at the motel, having a pizza dinner over crime scene photos and witness statements, her whole hand starts to feel like it’s on fire.  She excuses herself from the table and shuts herself in the bathroom.

By all outward appearances, nothing is wrong with her wrist.  It’s not inflamed, it’s not scratched, it’s not even red anymore, but her skin crawls.  She holds it up to the light and takes a closer look, running her thumb across the line where wrist meets palm.  There does seem to be a slight bump where there wasn’t one before.  She checks her left wrist in comparison and then the right one again.  When she scratches at the little bump with her nail, she can actually feel a slight pull under her skin.  She pushes at it with her thumbnail and then her skin ruptures and what looks like the stem of a leaf emerges.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.  There is a pair of tweezers in her toiletry kit that she finds and then plucks lightly at the stemp, but it doesn’t budge.  It doesn’t hurt and it doesn’t bleed and no matter how hard she pulls, the stem is immobile.  After only a few minutes she’s nearly in tears with frustration.  She wipes her watering eyes dry and then goes back to the table to rejoin Mulder.

“I need to show you something,” she says.

Mulder pauses with his hands full of photos and looks at her.  He sets them down and then wipes his hands on his pants and leans forward, elbows on the table.  “Okay,” he says.  “Show me.”

Scully pulls the sleeve of her shirt up and drapes her hand across the table, wrist up.  Mulder looks down at her hand and then up at her.  He moves his face closer to her arm and tilts his head from side to side.

“What am I looking at?” he asks.

“When we were in New Hampshire, I scraped my hand on that tree.”

“The Matchmaker?”

“Yes.  It wasn’t a bad scrape, no skin was broken, but since then, my wrist has not stopped itching.”

“What is that?”

“I don’t...I don’t know.  I tried using my tweezers on it, but it wouldn’t come out.”

Mulder picks up Scully’s hand with both of his and runs his thumbs across the bottom of her palm.  Her whole arm tingles when he touches her and she can feel something move beneath her skin.  

“It feels like...I’m not sure...”  Mulder puts a little more pressure on Scully’s wrist and slides one of his thumbs up to her palm.  Suddenly it feels like her whole hand opens up somehow and something unfurls out of her wrist like a butterfly to rest in her palm.  It’s a red, heart-shaped leaf.

They’re both silent, staring down at her hand, at the leaf.  Her arm still tingles and she sways slightly, lightheaded.   “Mulder…how did…?”

“I don’t know.”

“What just happened, Mulder, it’s impossible.”

“Well, there is one explanation.”

“Don’t say it.”

“You touched the tree.”

“A tree didn’t do this, Mulder.”  She jumps up from the table, determined to pull the leaf from her hand, but it’s stuck to the stem and the stem won’t budge.  “I need scissors.”

“Well wait, maybe you should see a doctor.”

“I am a doctor!”  She rushes back into the bathroom to get the small scissors from her toiletry bag.  Mulder follows behind and watches as she attempts to cut at the leaf and the stem, but the scissors just slide right off of the leaf as though it refuses to be cut.

“Stop,” Mulder says, putting his hands on her shoulders.  “Come on.”

“Mulder, there is a leaf growing out of my hand!”

“I can see that, come out here.”

Mulder guides her out of the bathroom back to the table, but she doesn’t want to sit.  She stares at her palm and at the leaf while Mulder sits and then he brings her towards him with his hands on her hips.

“Let me see,” he says.  

Scully reluctantly shows him her hand and he holds it gently, tracing the shape of the leaf in her palm with his index finger.  He pinches the leaf between his fingers and pulls gently and the stem slides out of her wrist without any effort at all.  When it’s completely free of her hand, she feels something wash over her that she can only describe as utter euphoria.  She sways slightly on her feet, leaning into Mulder and putting her hands on his shoulders to hold herself up.

“Scully?”  The leaf flutters to the ground as he grabs her hips.

“Oh, I feel…”

“Sit down.”  He stands and tries to urge her to sit, but she holds onto his arms and shakes her head.

“No, I…”  She feels overwhelmed by something she can’t describe, but the force with which she aches to be as close to Mulder as possible is powerful.  It’s like she can’t breathe, but he is oxygen.  It’s like she’s freezing and he’s a warm fire.

“I really think you should sit down,” he whispers.

“Mulder,” she says, blinking lethargically.  Her voice is slow and her eyes are heavy.  “If it was the tree, then that would mean…”

Mulder puckers his lips a little and his chin juts forward as he swallows.  “It would mean whatever you want it to mean,” he says.

Her heart hammers in her chest.  She tingles from head to toe, but especially where his hands grip her hips and where his arms press against hers.  She opens her mouth a few times, but doesn’t know what to say.

“I heard you, you know,” he says.

“Heard me?”

“When I was exposed to the artifact.”  He lets go of her with one hand to reach up and lightly touch his fingers to her forehead.  “I heard you.  I don’t need an enchanted tree to tell me what I already know.”

She should feel embarrassed, and maybe two months ago she would have, maybe even two minutes ago, she would have, but not now.  She drops her gaze to his mouth and then she looks up into his eyes again.  By some unspoken, mutual agreement, they both lean in.  Mulder bends and tips his head to the right, Scully lifts onto her toes and lets her eyes slip shut just before his mouth touches hers.  The kiss is soft and unhurried.  It’s tender and sweet in a way that makes her feel warm and secure.

“I can’t believe this is real,” she whispers against his lips.

“What part of it?”

“All of it.”

“Of course you don’t.”  He chuckles and bends down to pick up the leaf he dropped.  He twirls it between his fingers and then brushes it against her nose.

“It’s just not possible.”

“All of it?”  He cocks his head a little and his eyes fall to her mouth.

��Maybe not all of it.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m having a hard time believing it myself.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”  He smiles, and bends to kiss her again, but she leans away and puts two fingers against his lips.

“Why did you take me up there?” she asks.

“I’ve owed you a nice trip to the forest for about seven years.”

“Is that all?”  

“Autumn in New England?  I only wish we could’ve found something worthwhile to stick around a little longer.”

“So, you never intended for…”

“For you to start becoming part tree?  Not at all.”

“Oh my god, I just can’t...I can’t wrap my brain around it.  It’s…”  She covers her face with both hands and shakes her head.

Mulder kisses the knuckles on her right hand.  “You wouldn’t be you if you believed it.  Once upon a time there was a very skeptic little g-woman named Scully.”

“You are not allowed to start any stories with ‘once upon a time’ any longer,” she says, taking her hands away from her face.  “Bad things happen in fairy tales.”

“Well you are forgetting one thing though.”

“What?”

“They always end with ‘happily ever after.’”

The End

[shadoedseptmbr]

"Just take this." He hands her a folded paper, a small brown square.  "You know where Coulter Street is, baby?"

She let's her head shake, "No."  

"Okay then...I'm gonna let you look." His hand tightens on her shoulder. "You run with that and you won't get far, you hear me?"

She believes him. 

He walks her to the edge of the alley. "You see that red sign there, says Amato?"

"I see a red sign."  She sees an A.  Maybe.  An m?  It's weird, with squiggles. 

"You walk that over there.  Then, across the street there," he pushed her head till she looked.  "You see that dark spot?  Walk down there, it’s another alley like this un’. Yeah?"

"I think so?"

"Mmhm. You walk down there and there’s a hole in the fence.  You go through it.  You little, you ain't gonna get stuck on the wire there.  You get through it and there’s another street.  You know left and right?" He waits for her to nod, again. "Walk right down it till you find a big black door, there’s only one okay?" 

"Okay."

"Big black door with no glass and a big square yellow metal piece like so," he lowers his hand in front of her face. "Down about your chin.  You push on that metal part and it’ll open up. Stick that bit through it and you come right back.  You do that, I'll get you that burger. You don't?  You better run *fast*"

She believes him.

"You wait  a second." If she could be more still she would, she stops *breathing*. "Fuck me,  the wind gonna go right through you."  A thick red cloth wrapped around her neck.  "Tuck that in your pants there so it don’t flap...Like that, good girl."

He looks her over, "You tell me what I told you to do, now."

She does, carefully.  

"Okay.  Well, you ain't stupid, even if you quiet. Go on now."

She hesitates a second looking at the square.  There’s two red triangles, points touching, on it.  

"What’s the matter, you scared?"

She lifts her chin up and looks him straight in his eyes, glaring.  "I am not."

He grins at her, brightly, the ring in his lip glints.  "I almost believe you, too. Go show Horne how fast you are, honey."

[rhysismydaddy]

Inmate Intimacy pt. 3 (Nessian)

Here’s the final part! I’ll be working on some asks in my box next :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

~Cassian~

As soon as the phone clicked through, Cassian told his best friend, “Get me the hell out of here.”

“Hello to you, too, asshat,” Rhysand grumbled. “You realize you’re calling me at seven in the morning?”

“I don’t dictate when phone privileges are,” Cassian practically growled back. 

He knew he should be a little grateful Rhys had even taken his case for free, but right now he couldn’t care less. 

If he didn’t get released soon, he was bound to do something amazingly stupid with Nesta which she’d probably come to regret. And he couldn’t have her regretting their first time together. 

So he felt perfectly justified as he yelled, “Get your ass out of bed and get me out of here!”

A pause.

Then Rhys asked, perfectly calm, “Did someone make you their bitch or something?”

Yes. 

“No. There’s just a- just figure something out, man.” He let a little of the sexual frustration and overall desperation seep into his voice. “Please.”

A heavy sigh. “Well, I was going to just surprise you, but since you’re yelling at me, you’re getting released tomorrow, jackass.”

Cassian couldn’t help himself from shouting, “What the fuck!”

Another sigh. “I was just going to come get you. Should be tonight at like six.”

Serotonin and pure fucking happiness shot through him like a bullet, and he laughed. “That’s perfect.”

“Something tells me you don’t want me to pick you up.”

“Your intuition,” he told his friend seriously, “is astounding. Thanks, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m amazing. I’m going back to sleep.”

The line went dead, and he laughed again. He’d been prepared for another week or something, but tonight? In less than twelve hours? Hell, yes.

Still grinning like a complete dumbass, he turned and strode down the hallway, starting to think about his plan for the evening. 

~Nesta~

Today had been a long day. 

No, strike that. Today had been the longest day of her life. 

Besides an early visit from Inmate #9356--during which they somehow managed to keep their hands off each other--nothing exciting had happened. 

Actually, her appointment with Cassian had even been pretty boring. He’d come in for all of two minutes for his shot and had stared at her with the biggest, most obnoxious grin on his face the whole time. As soon as she’d given him a cotton ball, he’d hopped off the table, slapped a kiss to her cheek, and disappeared. 

Weird, but the man wasn’t exactly normal. 

Checking her watch, she noticed it was time to get out of here.

Fucking finally. 

A hot bath and a huge glass of wine were practically calling her name. 

After quickly changing from her scrubs into jeans and a sweatshirt, she headed towards the exit. She nodded at the guard, getting a little confused when he winked and wagged his eyebrows but figuring it was probably just her imagination. 

But when the front gate slowly swung open, revealing who stood in the parking lot, everything clicked into place. 

Cassian was leaning against a jet black muscle car, arms crossed over his chest, smiling at her.

If that wasn’t an indicator that he’d been released, his change of attire sure as hell was. He was in dark jeans, boots, and a tight black t-shirt that clung to him and showcased his build. His tattoos were on full display, and his curly hair was down for once, blowing softly in the wind.

In short, he looked like every dream Nesta had ever had in her life stuffed into one human being. 

She walked up to him, suddenly well aware she probably looked like garbage next to him, and said, “You know, it’s probably not wise to hang around after breaking out of prison.”

He just laughed and extended a hand to her, the silent demand clear. 

Nesta walked into his arms, put her head against his chest, and smiled happily. Without even looking, she could tell he was mimicking the expression. 

“I got released, baby,” he finally said, pulling back to run a thumb over her cheek. “So I figured I’d take you up on your very generous offer to let me buy you a drink.”

“I’m in jeans and a sweatshirt,” she told him, shaking her head. “I’m not going anywhere nice.”

“You always look beautiful.” 

She rolled her eyes, hiding a smile behind her hand. Cassian stepped away from the car and opened the door for her. “Let’s go.”

Too easy. “Wow, getting the door for me? The system really helped reform you, didn’t it?”

He stuck his tongue out at her like the very mature gentleman he was. “Just get in the car. Please.”

“Such good manners, too,” she murmured as she gave in and slid in the passenger seat.

Snuggling down into the surprisingly comfortable seat, she noticed how the smell she’d associated with him--smoke and earth and honey--was amplified in here. Gods, he smelled good. 

She inhaled deeply, blushing when Cassian settled in next to her and noticed. He gave her a satisfied smile and cranked the car up. 

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going on a very fancy, very formal date to my favorite bar,” he said with a grin. Then he suddenly looked at her with a nervous glance, “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

The way he said vegetarian made it sound like martian. 

She shook her head. A burger actually sounded pretty great right about now.

Twenty minutes later, said burger was placed in front of her, along with a beer and a huge container of fries. 

And if you thought her side of the table was fattening, Cassian’s was a hundred times worse. 

Nesta picked up her burger and started to eat, watching the man across from her and trying to suppress a smile. She’d never thought anyone eating would be funny, but that was before she’d seen a former inmate taste something besides not-really-meat-meatloaf in a month. 

He finished off his first burger and grabbed the second, a happy little smile on his face. 

“You eat like a crazy person,” she told him.

Golden eyes flashed up to hers. “Fuck like one, too.”

She choked on her fry, hiding it behind a cough. To change the subject, she asked, “So what do you do? When you’re not in prison, of course.”

“Such a funny woman.” He rolled his eyes. “I do a lot of random stuff, like occasionally work at my friend Azriel’s bar, but mostly I’m a trainer.”

“Makes sense.”

The look in his eye said he knew, but he asked, “Why?”

She rolled her eyes. “You either eat small children for breakfast or work out a lot.”

“What about you?”

Giving him a look, she replied, “I’m a nurse, Cassian.”

“I know, smartass. But what about when you’re not working?”

“I read a lot.” And watch reality shows. “And I run sometimes.”

He stole some fries off her plate and asked, “What were you going to do tonight? Before you got swept off your feet by a handsome criminal?”

“My feet are still on the ground,” she assured him with a smirk. “I was going to take a bath and drink a lot of wine. Very exciting life I live, I know.”

Suddenly, he was on his feet, throwing a couple bills on the table. “Well, let’s go. I’d hate to disrupt your evening further.”

Even though she knew that was a flat-out lie, she took his outstretched hand and followed him back to his car. “Where to now?”

“My apartment.”

“How presumptuous,” she commented, even though she got in without argument.

“Not for that reason, you pervert,” he said with a dramatic eye roll. “I’m just trying to show you I have somewhere to live with more than four walls.”

“Mmhm.”

He grinned, reaching over to put a hand on her thigh. Unable to help it, she traced the lines of his tattoo, down each finger, over his hand, up his forearm. 

“Nesta,” he murmured, voice a little deeper. “Stop distracting me.”

You know when someone tells you not to do something, and it only makes you want to do it more?

Well, that’s what happened. 

Or maybe it was just the fact that she couldn’t control herself around him.

Either way, she didn’t listen.

Gripping his hand, she brought it up to her face, then drew one of his fingers into her mouth. 

His knuckles went white around the steering wheel, jaw clenched, and his eyes glared at the car in front of them as if that would make it move.

She released his finger, only to lean across the center console and press herself into his arm. She kissed his ear, then tugged on it with her teeth. 

He continued to drive, silent and broody, as she moved down to his neck. There was something about the way his skin felt against her lips that drove her insane. 

She dragged her tongue up the column of his neck, smiling when he released a low groan.  

But after about ten more seconds, he snapped. “Alright, you either sit in your seat like a good girl or I pull this car over and bend you over the hood.”

Nesta kissed the side of his mouth. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

He growled and pressed the gas pedal a little harder, so she relented and slid back to her side with a smile. His hand went back to her thigh, gripping more tightly this time.

Finally, he pulled up in front of a nice apartment building and threw the car in park. Before she could even move to get out of the car, he’d sprinted around, thrown her door open, and scooped her up.

“In a hurry?” she teased, secretly urging him to walk faster.

He pinched her behind. “Yes.”

Cassian carried her through the lobby and into an elevator, then down a hall and into his apartment. Or rather, through his apartment. 

He immediately strode through the kitchen and living room, then tossed her onto his bed. Before she could take a look around at her surroundings, he was prowling on top of her, lips finding hers. 

Normally, she’d be opposed to someone acting like this, but it had been a month of being so close to him, forced to look at him every day without doing what she wanted. 

And he was finally free, and it was finally happening. 

So she pulled him closer, sliding her hands under the back of his shirt.

He reached over his head and yanked it off, then did the same with her sweatshirt. His mouth went to her neck as his hands snuck behind her back, and then her bra was on their growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Her back arched as he moved his attention to her breasts, and she let out a moan that was loud enough to make her very, very glad they hadn’t done this in her office. 

Then he was kissing her again, and she lost herself in him. His tongue slid in her mouth, caressing hers, and he sucked on her lip in the most distracting way.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him tight to her, and she giggled as he reared back, picked her up, and moved them higher on the bed. 

Cassian took her wrists from around his neck and pressed them into the mattress above her head, then kissed her softly. “Do you trust me?”

Normally, a question like that would make her run for the hills, but somehow she found herself replying, “Yes.”

He gave her that insufferably cocky grin, then moved his hand, and-

Oh my gods.

No, he didn’t!

Nesta looked up at the handcuff encircling her wrist, mouth hanging open in shock. She was so distracted she couldn’t even fight as he trapped the other, leaving her powerless underneath him. 

“Cassian.”

He ran his fingers lightly down both her arms, and goosebumps appeared in his wake. “Funny feeling, isn’t it?”

“Let me loose.”

He just cocked his head, dark hair slipping over his brow. “Is that what you really want?”

She considered that.

It was what she wanted, right? Right? 

Not in the fucking slightest, her brain informed her helpfully. 

Shit. 

“You did it to me, after all,” he reasoned, hands moving to splay over her ribs, fingers barely brushing the underside of her breasts. “Consider it payback.”

This was absolutely insane. 

She didn’t point out that he’d been handcuffed by her for all of ten seconds. Instead, she did something incredibly stupid and said, “I guess it’s alright, then.”

He smiled broadly, hands going to the button on her jeans and snapping it open. Nesta’s breath hitched, but she managed to keep eye contact with him as he slowly pulled her pants down, taking her underwear with them. 

He sat back on his heels, looking her over with dark golden eyes, and she squirmed. 

Then, after pressing one more kiss to her lips, he slid down the bed and moved her legs over his shoulders. 

Oh, gods.

She stared into his golden eyes, unable to move even without the cuffs, as he slowly lowered his mouth to her and placed a single, soft kiss against her skin. 

Then he winked like the insufferable bastard he was, leaned down further, and got serious about what he was doing. 

Nesta’s back arched, her arms pulling helplessly against the cuffs. Cassian gripped her hips, keeping her still, and she was utterly powerless underneath him as he continued to work her. 

She’d never given control like this to anyone. Generally, she didn’t let her guard down around men, even when they were on top of her. But something about the man kneeling between her legs made her throw all of her rules out the window and just let him do what he wanted. 

And she fucking loved it.

One of his hands continued to hold her hips, the other sneaked up across her stomach, over her breasts, and up her throat. 

A finger traced her lips, and she parted them under his touch. Cassian made a deep, approving sound as she drew it into her mouth, sucking softly. 

Then he pulled the hand away, trailing it back down her body, and moved it between her thighs. 

She moaned his name and squirmed, noticing how the metal around her wrists clanked against the headboard. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured against her, making her moan again. She could feel the pressure building up inside her, and as if he could sense it, too, Cassian added another finger. 

Release finally found her, making breath leave in a harsh whoosh, but he kept working her until the waves had ebbed and she was limp underneath him. 

He pulled back, looking up at her with golden eyes that were heavy with lust. Dragging his tongue across his bottom lip, he smiled and made a self-satisfied, male sound. 

If she was being honest, he deserved to. 

What he’d done hadn’t been new to her in the slightest, but it had never felt... quite like that. She’d never come from that before, and the realization made her mutter, “I was right. You do eat like a crazy person.”

Cassian prowled up her body, dropping searing kisses occasionally, and then tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth. “And do you remember what I said back?”

Fuck like one, too. 

She nodded. 

“I think it’s time I prove that.” Gods, please, yes. “Do you want me to take these off?” He rattled the handcuffs. 

Surprising herself, and probably him too, she shook her head. 

For some reason, being underneath him, subject to whatever he wanted to do, made her lose her mind in the best way possible. 

His eyes went almost black as he grinned and said, “I’m going to fucking marry you one day.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and laughed, but it was cut short by the sight of him leaning back to unbutton his jeans. Once he’d pulled them off, allowing her to take in the full sight of him, her mouth went a little dry. 

“You keep looking at me like that, and this will be over before it even starts,” he warned, voice husky with need.

She forced herself to look back up at his gaze, and he moved to brace himself on his elbows above her. Nesta leaned up to kiss him, then watched his brow furrow in concentration as one hand snuck between them.

Her eyes drifted shut as he started to slide in, but he paused and said, “Keep your eyes open. I want you to see what you do to me.”

Even though it felt impossible, she opened them again and did what he asked. His jaw was tight, shoulders and arms stiff as he held himself above her, body seeming to teem with pent up energy as he let her adjust. 

He looked... helpless. 

She was the one in cuffs, but he looked utterly helpless against whatever he was feeling. 

“Now you see why I was in a hurry,” he gruffed. 

And then he started to move. 

At the first push of his hips, Nesta realized it might have been a mistake to keep her wrists bound. She pulled against them instinctively as he moved, the knowledge that she couldn’t touch him messing with her mind. 

A low groan tore out of his throat, and she almost came from the sound alone. 

“Fuck, Nesta.”

He kissed her, lips hard and demanding and perfect against hers. A hand lifted her lips slightly, causing him to hit a different spot inside her, and she moaned into his mouth. “Right there. Oh, gods, please.”

It was the first time she’d ever asked him for something, and to say he delivered would be the understatement of the century. 

His hips pounded into her, exactly in the spot that drove her crazy, and she barely had time to move hers in rhythm before the next attack came. 

He dipped his head to kiss her throat, sucking at the spot where it met her shoulder, and she came with a loud groan, eyes rolling back in her head a little. 

Cassian didn’t stop, though. 

He didn’t so much as slow down. 

It seemed as if a month in prison had built up just a little sexual frustration, and he was taking it all out on her at once. 

He braced a hand on her leg, then threw it over her shoulder, going deeper still. “Oh, fuck,” she groaned. 

Her legs started to shake as the buildup inside of her grew and grew and grew. 

“Nesta,” he panted, picking up his pace a little. “Come for me.”

The sound of his voice did it for her, and she fell over the edge with a loud cry, this time dragging him with her. His eyes drifted shut, and his mouth collapsed against her as he groaned. 

Then he stilled on top of her, both of them breathing heavily. 

After a few moments, he pulled back and surveyed her face with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”

I probably won’t be able to walk for a week. She nodded, unable to even form the words to explain how she felt at the moment. “That was...”

“Yeah,” he agreed, shaking his head. 

They continued to stare at each other, both lost for words. Then he reached up, and a moment later her hands were free. She brought them to his face, brushing his hair back. 

He frowned at the red skin around her wrists, rolling over and out of the bed before she could tell him they didn’t even hurt. 

She heard the rush of water, and a few minutes later, he came back with a smile. 

Cassian scooped her into his arms, carried her into his bathroom, and deposited her in the tub. 

The tub that was full of warm, bubbly water. 

A fat glass of wine was in her hand a second later.

“Well, you did say you didn’t want to disrupt my evening.”

He grabbed his own glass, then climbed in the tub across from her. Part of her wondered why the hell he had a bathtub this big, and she would’ve asked if it hadn’t been for the sight of him sitting across from her. 

Bubbles clung to his chest, stark against his tattoos. His hair was wet from the hand he dragged through it, and he had a soft, happy smile on his lips. 

He cocked his head as she stared at him, taking a sip from his glass. “I like the way you look at me.”

Nesta blushed. “How do I look at you?”

A smile. “Like you want to handcuff me and have your way with me.”

She bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. “Well, it is your turn.”

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