#the arrival of yet more homemade links

[lynelsscareme]

Sheikah!Link finally gets a name!!!

Bones.

Very creative, I know. But! For now, have the tidbit of character lore that is the poor bugger is really, really bad at keeping secrets. Really bad. Won’t possibly backfire when working on the same team as Pink Link, who is a professional at sniffing out secrets and dragging them out into the light.

Not at all.

Additionally, he gets to be the biggest flirt in the team, for all he has less than a 5% success rate. It will frustrate him when the Heroes who are completely oblivious start outdoing him in performance, but he’ll get over it. Eventually….

[ithebookhoarder]

Javier Peña req (and Steve as bestie). Y/n is their partner and is feeling extremely burnt out; running on empty, coffee, cigarettes and not much else. She’s barely sleeping or eating and constantly has a tight chest and racing heart. They both know something is up with her but she just shrugs it off until one day, Javi is out on a raid and she reaches her breaking point. Steve manages to get her home but can’t reach Javi until he gets back to the embassy etc. Also, please could you throw in a little Carrillo cause😍

Burned Out (Javier Peña x F!Reader)

A/N: I’ve missed Narcos and my DEA boys, so thank you for this prompt, whoever sent this in. I really appreciate it. I’ve been in a bit of a slump recently with writing for this blog, so it’s great to have something to focus on and pour myself in to - hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, alcohol, reference to depressive / self destructive behaviour, description of a panic attack, mild smut, canon-typical violence, death, reference to drugs / overdosing. 

Masterlist

You knew exactly when it started. When you began to feel yourself beginning to sink downwards into the quicksand that was your life. 

It was a bad day… well, a worse day, if you were being honest, given that life in general in Bogota was hard and full of bad days that left you feeling numb inside. Whereas you were normally able to banish the darkness by spending time with the friends you had collected since your arrival to the city, not even Javi’s gentle kisses or Steve’s dirty jokes or Connie’s homemade deserts could do the trick. 

The day had been bad for many reasons.

One, you’d lost a contact with direct links to Escobar, that you’d spent weeks working on. 

Two, you had lost them in a drive-by shooting that had killed not only them but countless civilians too. 

Three, some of your asshole colleagues decided to spill coffee all over your files meaning you were forced to work late to re-type them up for a briefing the following morning. Even though you had got it done, you knew you had likely missed some details, the ink far too smudge to even begin to try and understand what had previously been written. 

However, that day had only been the start of it. The start of the downwards spiral you found yourself tumbling into. 

Sure, the others had noticed there was a change about you. Yet, it wasn’t as if they knew what was causing it or how to fix it. 

Javi especially knew what you were like - you were like him after all. Spilling your guts wasn’t your natural reaction to handling things. You kept your emotions bottled up inside of you, cramming more and more in, forcing that lid to remain firmly screwed in place even as the pressure began to build. 

And if the lid did threaten to pop off? Well then, you lost yourself in him. In the love that existed between you, and the intimate knowledge you shared of one another. After all, Javi had said it himself, “who needed therapy when you had sex and good whiskey?” 

A night of passionate fucking was all it took to take the edge off… to let a little pressure escape, delaying your inevitable eruption… But that was just it; you would erupt. It was inevitable. There was no way on earth you could sustain the relentless routine of long hours spent at work, with coffee doing its best to act as a replacement for your bed. 

Hell, you could feel the toll it was taking on you both mentally and physically, from the way your hands shook slightly, to the way your chest felt too tight to breathe sometimes. Then there was the fact your clothes were starting to get baggy, whereas they’d once clung to your frame like they’d been tailored for you. 

“Here,” Javi had smiled one afternoon. You could smell the sandwich in his hand before he even set it down on the desk in front of you, accompanied by a packet of chips and a can of your favourite soda. “Grabbed that for you on our way back. Figured you’d forget lunch - again.” 

A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the kind gesture. “Thanks, Javi.” 

“Anytime, hermosa.” He said it so calmly and easily that you felt your heart skip a beat as you realised how lucky you were to have someone who cared about you so deeply. It was why you made sure to tear a corner off of the sandwich and pop it in your mouth. 

The relieved nod Javi granted you told you it was the reaction he’d been waiting for, as he took a step back to let you finish eating and working in peace. 

You knew he’d be back to check you’d finished it in a matter of minutes. So, you were quick to chuck the rest of his lunch in the waste paper bin behind you, burying it further under a pile of discarded documents you’d already finished looking through. 

It was fine. You’d eat later. Maybe you’d even try and cook dinner for you and Javi… an apology for being so distant lately… 

Somehow, despite lacking the gift of prophecy, you knew deep down that that was unlikely to happen. Just as you knew it was unlikely Javi would even make it home tonight. For the last week straight, both he and Steve had been called out on some last minute, late night errands by Carillo - not that you minded all that much. 

Not having Javi’s arms to fall into meant you felt less guilty about working late yourself. About only making it back to your empty apartment long enough for a quick shower and a power nap each night. 

It was ironic to think of Carillo, though, given that your brief conversations with the Colonel in question had been the closest you’d come to finally releasing some of the hurt and the pain inside of you. 

You didn't know what it was about him, but somehow, the Colonel had an ability to draw you out. To make you open up and share things you would never otherwise dream of. 

Maybe it was his candour? You’d noticed that about him since you'd started working together; he had a blunt demeanour, saying what he thought regardless of the affect it could have on another person. 

Now, it wasn't done with malice, per say, but rather as the result of a man who had the weight of an entire army on his shoulders and an impossible task. He just didn't have the time to bullshit anyone - especially when you both lived in a city full of people all too willing to lie and cheat. 

It also came from a weird sense of respect, of seeing people as equals, deserving of the truth just as he expected the same in return. No matter how painful it may be.

Needless to say, it was one of the reasons you'd grown to respect the man - and dare you even say, like. 

Still, when he decided to loiter on the other side of your desk, late one night, you felt yourself stiffen, as if suddenly all too aware of every little gesture your body made and what it gave away.

The Colonel missed nothing.  

“You look like shit.”

Wow. Don’t beat around the bush. 

“Jeez, your wife married a charmer, Colonel,” you scoffed, dragging on your cigarette, sparing him a fleeting glance. “Speaking of, doesn’t she want you back home? Or do you prefer my company that much that you’d rather stand at my desk at 11 o’clock at night?” 

“She’s out of the city, visiting her parents,” he rebuffed, clearly not taking the bait as he dropped into the empty seat opposite. In fact, he decided to reach across and steal one of the cigarettes from the packet on your desk, lighting it for himself in a gesture that made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere for now.  

“Good for her.”

“Yes, it is. I think time away from this place is good for everyone.” 

You could feel the accusation lacing his words, as well as the heat from his continuous stare. “Then why didn’t you go with her? Not enough vacation days?” 

He scoffed, a bitter smirk twisting his lips upwards. “You’re funny; I can see why Peña likes you so much. Like calls to like, as they say, even if you try and hide it behind that smile of yours.” 

You bit back a laugh. “What can I say? I lucked out in that department and got my Mom’s smile. My sister was not so fortunate. She always had my dad’s features - meaning she looked more often than not like she was sucking on a lemon.” 

“This is the sister that died from an overdose, correct?”

“Yes.” 

“The anniversary is this week, is it not?” 

He asked it so calmly and casually that anyone would have thought he’d asked you what the weather was like outside, or what your favourite record to listen to was. 

At least his concern now made sense. It was the kind of detail he would remember, and you were honestly more surprised by the fact it had taken until now for him to bring it up. 

He’d probably been itching to ask you about it all day, aware of the date even if your two partners were not. Well, they might have been, but neither had said anything which was your preference if you were being honest. Hence your rapidly cooling demeanour towards your colleague. 

“I’m fine, if that’s what you're trying to fish about for, Colonel,” you sighed, staring back down at your desk again in an attempt to dismiss him. “You don't have to worry about me. I’m good. Thanks. So can I get back to work in peace? Or did you have some other question for me?” 

Carillo sighed, simply choosing to smoke his cigarette, letting the tension linger along with the steadily growing haze around you both. 

He didn't need to say the words aloud; his actions did all the talking for him as he reached over and helped himself to a file off of you desk. 

He didn't buy this ‘calm, cool, and collected’ act you were pedalling. Not for a second - something his stare alone gave away, even if he refused to say it. Instead, he chose to read, and work, and smoke along side you so that you would not be alone. 

He had his eyes on you... watching and waiting for the moment that your carefully constructed walls came crashing down... the only question was would they crush you in the process?

It was about a month later that the inevitable happened; that you finally hit rock bottom. 

It had just been a causal remark that did it, of all things. A casual remark that sent you tipping over the edge. 

You had just returned from lunch and hadn’t even sat back down at your desk yet when you noticed that someone was missing.  

“Yo, Steve?” you queried, quickly glancing up at the empty seat next to you. “Where did Javi go?” 

Now, you couldn't be a hundred percent certain what Steve said next but you knew he’d said something about Carillo, a lead, and a raid ... 

“What?”

“I said, Javier went with him,” Steve repeated, staring at you with growing concern. You realised he must have already repeated himself. “What? Why? What is it?” 

“Javi went too? He… he’s there? On that raid?” 

“Yes, y/n, that’s what I just said - hey! Where you going?” 

You didn’t even realise your feet had started moving, not until you heard Steve’s confusion as he yelled after you. 

But you didn't stop.

You couldn’t stop, not until you were outside - not until you were far enough from that place that you could actually stop and fucking breathe. 

When did it become so hard to breathe? 

When had the room become so small? 

Why did your mind suddenly feel the need to go to the darkest place possible? 

It was just a raid... one of hundreds Javi had gone on since arriving here in the country, just as you had also gone on your fair share. So why was your head suddenly picturing him... lying there... injured, or worse... dead. 

The number of bodies you’d stared at, lying in the streets in a macabre tableau that had become all too familiar by now - all part of this fucking job. A job you signed up for, hoping to vanquish the bastards who had taken so much from you and those you loved… yet, every day, it seemed you had failed as more and more innocent people suffered… and to think, that Javi - the man you loved more than anything - who you had neglected terribly to the point you couldn't actually remember the last time you’d woken up next to each other - could be amongst them… 

It brought you to your knees. 

“Whoah, y/n. Easy. What’s wrong?” 

Steve’s voice sounded distant, as if you have been submerged beneath water. Yet, you could tell he was beside you, dropping down onto the kerb before hauling you close. The warmth of his touch was enough to tether you to him, to reality, as everything around you seemed to spin in dizzying circles.

You could feel it as his hands rose, cupping your cheeks, turning your head and trying to get you to look at him. 

When you finally did, he could see immediately that your eyes were glassy, like you weren’t really seeing or hearing him. 

He knew that look. 

“Y/N,” Steve murmured in a soothing voice. “Y/N, look at me. Look at me.” 

He paused, waiting until your eyes trained themselves on his face, some of the cloudiness starting to dissipate. 

“Good, that’s good. Now breathe. Just breathe,” he instructed, taking a few deep breaths himself to show you how.

It took you a moment or two, but you eventually became fully aware of your surroundings and what your friend was telling you to do. 

Following his lead, you took a few shuddering breaths, then a few more. You kept breathing until you could feel the racing of your heart slow and the fear that had felt crippling just moments before begin to ease.

You were exhausted.

Wiping at your face, you tried to banish the tears that had left a salty trail burning down your cheek.

Steve doesn't say anything for a long minute, instead choosing to pull you into his side and light up a cigarette, which he was quick to offer you.

“T... thank you.”

You sat like that for a while... just watching people and cars passing by, smoking like two people on a perfectly ordinary break.

No one bothered to stop and ask you two questions. Hell, no one even shot a glance in your direction, everyone too busy with their own business to stop and give a shit about yours.

So you sat. 

And smoked. 

And said nothing... not until the cigarette was nothing more than a stub.

Steve was quick to take it from you, before it could burn your fingers. Tossing it aside, it had clearly served its purpose. 

He stood and offered you a hand. 

His face left no room for debate as he stated calmly, “Come on, I’m taking you home. Now.” 

“Come on. A couple more steps, Y/N,” Steve urged, guiding you up the stairs to your apartment. 

His hand was warm, firm even, as it pressed against your lower back. 

He’d been like this since the moment you’d left the embassy, steering you and hovering over you like he expected you to simply topple over at the slightest breeze. 

It was touching, yet irritating all at once - a sentiment you were too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other to even attempt to unpack. You were also just too goddamn tired. 

“Here we are.” Steve’s words startled you. “Home sweet home.” 

You didn’t remember giving him the keys, but you must have as he opened the door a second later and herded you inside. 

There was emotion in your throat - threatening to spill from you. You were holding on by a thread and he knew it. Just as Carillo knew it, and possibly Connie too - 

Wait, Connie?

You blinked as you realised that at some point the woman had also entered your home, most likely having been summoned by Steve on the drive home. 

You wanted to feel guilty at the thought of her being dragged into your mess, but you were honestly too tired to feel anything other than grateful as she hurried over to you, offering you a cup of what you assumed was tea, as well as two pills. 

To help take the edge off, she explained, urging you to take them. Doctor’s orders. 

It was impossible to miss the way that they were both staring at each other - sharing anxious glances as you swallowed the tablets and dutifully sipped the tea. 

They were worried about you. Hell, you were worried about you, and Javi, and Steve, and everyone else you loved and cared about - that was what had got you in this mess in the first place. 

Damn it.

You heard them say as much as you marched yourself to your bedroom, claiming you were going to try and get some rest whilst you waited for news. 

If they bought it, you couldn’t tell, but neither protested as you left them. 

They simply let you go, allowing you the space and privacy to crawl into your bedroom, bury yourself in the unmade sheets, and lie down for a while. The medication had clearly started to work as you felt heavy... tired... 

Lying there, you could hear their voices... faint murmurs drifting down the hall. 

You caught only snippets as they tried and failed to keep their voices down, just as your parents had once done when you were just a kid. Still, despite their efforts, you caught enough to know that there was still no word from Javi, or about the raid he went on. 

“-called Javi- no reply.”

“Carillo - try again -”

“-worried about her - stressed.” 

Eventually, the words began to fade away, replaced instead by your body's sudden need to sleep. It was pointless to fight the drugs now in your system, or the comfort of being wrapped in the bed sheets that still smelled of Javi... not even you were strong enough to fight it as you felt yourself drifting off into sweet oblivion.

"Sweetheart?"

You must have still been dreaming - that was the thought that crossed your mind as you swore you heard Javi's voice.

"Javi?" you moaned, fighting against the grogginess that greeted you as you tried to open your eyes.

Despite the fact it was clearly now dark out, you could easily make out the face in front of you, illuminated from behind by the bedside lamp. The sight was almost angelic - as if some divine being had deigned to answer your prayers and return the love of your life back in to your arms.

“It's ok, I'm here, sweetheart,” Javi purred again, brushing your hair back behind your ear and pulling you close. “I’m right here, ok? In one piece - promise. The raid went off without a hitch. Even snagged ourselves a new asset for you to take a crack at.”

Your eyes shimmered with tears as you quickly burrowed into his chest. You didn't really hear what he was saying, too busy focusing on the fact that he was here to say it at all - here - alive - in your arms. 

The reality hit you as you began to let it pour out of you: how relieved you were, how much you loved him. You also grumbled something about fucking telling you when he next decided to run off on a raid without so much as 'goodbye' - else you’d shoot him yourself. 

“I’m sorry, carino. I am.”

And you believed him. 

"I love you, Javi. So much."

"I love you too," he purred, "and I'm so sorry, I knew you were struggling, but when Steve told me-"

He didn't get to finish whatever the hell he'd been about to say. You didn't let him.

Instead, your lips surged hungrily towards his and as only Javi could, he kissed you back, soft and slow... as if desperate to reassure you through actions alone.

You felt him chuckle into your mouth as you grew impatient, grinding your hips against him in a silent plea for him to fill you. To join you. To bury himself, and the day you'd both had, in a moment of bliss.  

It was a special kind of neediness, reserved for just him, and one that was only sated once he had fully joined with you, as one being. Safe. Whole.

Yes, in an ideal world he would have waited until after talking to you to lose himself in such a way. After all, Steve and Connie had filled him in on the troubling turn of events that his absence today had triggered - and he'd be lying if he said the idea didn't scare him shitless, that you had broken down so completely...

He could only thank God that Steve had been there for you - especially when he couldn't be himself.

But he was here now... and you had time to start trying to make sense of this mess. Together. Carillo had assured him of that, informing him in no uncertain terms that you both had the next few days off from work. He didn't want to see either one of you back in the office until you'd begun to sort through the mountain of shit you were buried under.

So, yes. If you wanted to lose yourself for tonight, to use him to forget the world outside for a perfect moment, then he was only too happy to oblige.

He’d wait until the morning to have a proper conversation. 

He’d go down and whip you up some breakfast before trying to get you to open up to him about everything that had happened today… about the worries and concerns you’d been keeping locked away inside of you. 

Then, after you’d fallen in to pieces in his arms, he could try and start to put you back together again. As a team.

[insomniumstella]

something in the orange

bucky x witch!reader 

summary: the pretty witch James met in Bucharest holds his heart. she’s been there ever since he regained his freedom, mending the soldier’s broken soul through tender loving, but if the aching suspicions deep in his bones are correct, she’ll soon become nothing more than a bittersweet memory. 

warnings: angst-ish fluff, memories of trauma, a lil’ sprinkle of nsfw — implied smut

word count: 1,615

author’s note: words we never said ☾ if you enjoy listening to music while reading, please play the song je te laisserai des mots. it captures the emotion behind this perfectly:( this is a link to a post about Bucky’s Bucharest apartment, which i used for both inspiration and visualization, and absolutely recommend reading

The little apartment is enveloped in the smell of chicken noodle soup when James steps through the door, dropping a bag of plums on the sofa. Though every window is blocked out with newspapers, the dying sun manages to flicker through the pages, casting an orange glow on the single room.

On her — the girl who inadvertently saved him.

She stands by the stove in nothing but his woolen sweater. It reaches her knees, and she pushes the sleeves up to her elbows at times to prevent the edges from broth stains. The otherwise silent atmosphere is saturated in delicate sounds of piano creeping out of her broken laptop, and as the soldier continues to observe her, a bittersweet wave of emotions drowns him. Brooklyn is no longer his home, she is.

“Hi.” James chuckles softly at the sight before him.

Ancient spells books and corked glass containers clutter the counter. Bundles of herbs, dried and fresh alike, float around her as she studies the open grimoire, waving her fingers in a circular motion to stir dinner.

“Hi, bun.” She mutters without paying him a glance, hastily reading the last bit of instructions for a healing potion. “Are you feeling better?”

The witch buries her nose in the crinkled pages often. The words that lay upon the paper are peculiar to James. Dragon’s blood, wormwood, lapis lazuli are several terms he stopped seeking to understand, focusing to unravel the boundaries of the relationship between them instead. Friends was the only label ever spoken, and yet somewhere along the way of the pair’s whirlwind journey, the edges of their connection became stained.

Almost a year ago, when James stumbled into a hidden coffee shop by accident, or fate, it was unmistakable she was merely a stranger, but then she shared her cinnamon bun because he only had enough money for a cup of tea, and their destinies blurred together. She shared again and again until it was two strange months later that she announced, “we’re friends, bun,” after James questioned the reason she’d always split the pastry. Suddenly, the days were brighter, and the nights not as lonely. The shoebox of an apartment turned warm. She spent many hours exploring the world, but James would find caramel bars on his refrigerator and fresh flowers on the counter, he’d light the candles she’d accidentally leave or read the loose pages that slipped out of her journals. If his kitchen was empty of food, she’d arrive at his place with a tote of ingredients to prepare a homemade meal. James never witnessed where she sleeps most nights, except she goes thrifting a bit too much and rarely pays for bus tickets, sneaking in when the conductor isn’t looking. She has very little of her own, and she chooses to care for him in every way she’s able.

He doesn’t deserve it, he often thinks. Solitude was written in his future as a punishment for the crimes he committed. James earned to suffer in the constant chaos of his rotten mind, and he shouldn’t come home to a friend, whose cooking chicken noodle soup because the harsh Bucharest weather provoked a simple cold.

Friend. Trust was a word forgotten in his vocabulary, and she returned the meaning, melding the broken pieces of James Buchanan Barnes through tender love. Before the soldier could truly grasp the imprint she’d forever leave on his soul, he was subconsciously searching for her in the sunsets or the olden books in the city’s library, catching her in the morning’s dew or the bright stars. The diary, which stored his memories, adopted stories of her, and the single cup of coffee doubled. Gentle smiles painted over his usual frowns, and the metal arm abruptly became capable of affectionate touches.

She is not a friend, for the words he’s scared to say are I love you.

“As a matter of fact,” the soldier wraps his arms around her waist from behind before placing a tender kiss on her cheek, “yes.”

The girl melts into his embrace. While she’s a resident of the world, escaping to faraway locations when the circumstances twist sour, Bucky’s embrace is the only place in which she could ever sincerely find safety.

“Good,” she grins, turning around to capture his lips. The kiss is brief, and before James could steal another, she’s clutching a glass vial to push it into his hands. “The potion has cinnamon and ginger to relieve the cold and is infused with moonstone to banish anxiety.”

The weight of her statement rests in his stare, “anxiety?”

Caressing Bucky’s biceps through his red henley, she grimaces at the tinges of betrayal in his tone. “I promised to stay out of your head,” she begins, tracing his rigid chest muscles, “and a promise is sacred,” especially the kind a witch would grant to a former assassin, “but I can sense the anguish that plagues you without hearing, or seeing it, in the first place.”

“Oh,” James sighs, and the rest of the sentence seems to die on his tongue.

It was a foolish mistake to imagine the girl could possibly miss the wrenching concern at the pit of his stomach. James attempted to bury it, but for the last three weeks, the sorrow was evidently carved in his stiff expressions and nervous glances. She continued to revel in the pleasure of his touch, but it no longer resembled peace, tarnished with an unspoken goodbye.

And perhaps, it is. Suspicions of The Winter Soldier’s potential attacks flicker in the air as a harsh reminder — he’s a complex affair in her heart solely because the perception of James as a mindless killer remains unchanged in the eyes of others. Someone seeks to find him, whether it be the government or Steve.

“Sit,” she urges, maneuvering to locate a set of ceramic bowls.

The table bears a cheap bottle of red and two clashing glasses she thrifted. A Nokia lies atop a pack of cigarettes, and James hastily shoves it into the pocket of his jeans. It’s not the scent of tobacco on her clothing that drives him insane, but rather the scent of cinnamon underneath it, which he cannot entirely reach. She sprinkles cinnamon on coffees or oatmeal, and into the bread she makes once every blue moon. Cinnamon envelopes James in a warm hug every time the soldier smells it, and it’s frustrating how easily tobacco seems to overpower the spice.

“Did I leave the door unlocked again?” Bucky questions, messing with the wax on an empty wine bottle before he decides to ignite the candle, situated inside, using y/n’s pink lighter.

A moment of stillness settles upon the couple, and when she speaks, her voice is a lot more gentle. “On the contrary, I used alohomora,” she bites the inside of her cheek, unsure if she should say the words swirling around in her mind, “you’re healing, Buck. Sometimes the pain may distract us from miscellaneous tasks.”

Pain is the single steady matter in his prolonged lifetime. It left a gaping hole in his heart and a rooted crack in his soul without remedies to cure it. At least she silences the constant buzzing in his ears the gruesome memories bring forward and patches up the endlessly crimson wounds. Some days, James is barely a man, and yet his rain never smothers the fire within her.

“Alohomora?”

“Mmmh,” she hums, mouth entirely full of soup. It’s when she swallows does y/n genuinely answers, “alohomora is a spell in Harry Potter to pick locks.”

“Does it work in our reality?” James asks, bringing a spoonful of steaming broth to his lips. The taste is nostalgic and comforting, and it makes him briefly reminisce of every time his mom or sister would cook a chicken noodle dinner from a can.

“No,” she shakes her head and reaches for the bottle to graze his glass, “but a bobby pin does.”

“Thank you,” James chuckles as his eyes soften, “for the soup, and the potion, and—“

“Stop,” she settles on his lap, the bowl of food forgotten. “I nurture you not out of pity but rather because in you, I see myself.” A corner of her mouth quirks up into a meager smile, one James seems powerless to understand. “I was eighteen, alone, and purple with bruises the human eye cannot see.” The witch’s tone is sprightly, but the tremble in her voice unveils the bitterness of the memory. “All I craved was for someone to offer me a touch of kindness, and just maybe, a hand to hold. People help the people,” she remarks, stroking a faded scar above his eyebrow, “you shall not express gratitude for such simple actions.”

Traitor. The gravity of the word claws at his bones. James needs to speak of the burdens and of the fears tormenting his head. She would always be a temporary destination in his peculiar journey. It was etched into the stars above. The universe bestowed an angel upon evil, proposing a restrained offer set to soon expire.

James Barnes is a coward, he decides, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss instead of confessing. Clutching her hips, the soldier brings the woman closer, tracing the curves of her body to store it deep within his consciousness. She straddles him, tangling her elegant fingers in his chestnut hair.

“I like to express my gratitude,” James whispers into the crook of her neck before kissing the delicate skin, “you’re too good to me, plum.”

And when she grinds on The Winter Soldier’s hardened length, savoring the roughness of his denim jeans against her thinly covered cunt and bare thighs, she doesn’t particularly care enough to argue.

[trulybetty]

dec' x 27 - reunions

Prompt: reunions Pairing: sequins!joel x reader Word Count: 1,129 Warnings: none, just some fluff, maybe a hint of angst? Summary: Joel making the trek through arrivals to come see you (running out of steam, this is the most descriptive it's going to get lol). AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

Joel grumbled to himself as his boots echoed dully off of the plane and onto the boarding bridge, giving the air hostess a silent nod of thanks. Hitching his carry-on higher up onto his shoulder, he stifled a yawn. The plane had left Austin late at gone seven earlier that evening, but with an hour layover in Dallas and the time change, it was now gone midnight. It’d already been a gruelling day, and this late-night flight on top of it making the last five hours feel twice as long, had him wrestling with doubts if the strain of whatever this long-distance thing between you was sustainable.

He was already on a tight schedule, one that the unplanned layover had already eaten into. The downside of picking a flight based on its price as opposed to its convenience. He had less than 48 hours before he had to be back in Austin to pick up Sarah from her mother's. The switch of weekends wasn’t as easy to negotiate with his ex as it had been with Sarah, which further added to the pressure of knowing that every minute away counted.

So with his carry-on on his shoulder, he was grateful waiting for luggage wouldn’t be another delay as he watched weary travellers heading to an empty carousel to wait for their belongings to come through.

As he walked through the quiet terminal, the echo of the handful of passengers he’d departed with bounced off the walls reminding him of the early hour of the morning. The glare of the artificial light bouncing off of the polished concrete was starting to irritate the headache that was starting to nascent.

There were so many of these precious moments snatched between both of your schedules, the odd weekend here, maybe a week squeaked in but the other would be working. He pulled his cap down a little further on his head and tried to ignore the list of things he had to do in the small window when he returned home, and that was before the week could even begin. On top of that, Christmas was fast approaching and it was his ex’s turn to have Sarah, so she already had a small list of things she wanted to do with both him and Tommy that made him more tired to think about. He couldn’t help but wonder if all this effort was worth it. Was all of this enough to sustain whatever it was between the two of you?

Following the signs for arrivals, Joel tried to focus on getting through to the other side and the prospect of a warm bed and sleep. He stopped only momentarily to awkwardly take a picture on his phone of the artwork that took up centre stage between the shuttered stores and the brief formality of making his arrival in the state official. 

And then, as he stepped through the sliding doors into the arrivals area, there you were. Despite it being gone one am at that point, the harsh fluorescent lights of the nearly empty airport couldn't dim your smile the moment you laid eyes on him. It was also then that he noticed the homemade sign you were holding, his name scrawled across it in bold letters. The modpodge of glitter and stickers, and enough experience with artwork from Sarah, told him that perhaps you’d had help putting it together from smaller hands. But, somehow, that simple piece of cardboard in your hands made his heart swell.

The sight of you, so alert and eagerly waiting just for him, dissolved all of his lingering uncertainties. The list of reasons he had mentally compiled about why this relationship might be too challenging, too demanding, too impractical, all just faded into insignificance. 

Forgotten. 

You were there, with sleepy yet shining eyes and a smile that could light up the darkest night, making every cramped flight and travel nuisances feel utterly trivial.

With every step he took towards you, Joel's pace quickened, fueled by the realization that, yes, it was all worth it. Every precious minute he got to spend in your presence was invaluable, no matter how quickly time might slip away. The weariness that had been weighing on his body seemed to evaporate, replaced by a surge of adrenaline at the thought of the limited but incredibly meaningful time you were about to share.

When he finally reached you, words became superfluous. He simply wrapped you in his arms, the sign crumpling between you, and his kiss conveyed everything in the quiet of the airport. This moment, this connection, answered all his questions and dispelled every doubt. This feeling, being here with you, was what validated every mile traveled and every hour spent in the air. It was undeniably, irrevocably worth it.

In the embrace, you both stood, the rest of the world momentarily forgotten. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, a rhythm that seemed to sync with your own. The exhaustion on his face was evident, yet there was an undeniable spark in his eyes.

“You look tired,” you whispered, your voice a soft murmur in the vastness of the empty terminal.

Joel chuckled lightly, his breath warm against your ear. “Worth it, though,” he replied, tightening his hold. 

In the embrace, you both stood silent for a moment, the world around you melting into a quiet backdrop. It was in these quiet hours, in the stillness of an almost empty airport, where the reality of your relationship truly sunk in. It wasn't just about overcoming the challenges of distance and time; it was about something deeper, something neither of you had fully experienced before, even in your past relationships.

“I missed you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Joel pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours in the dim airport light. “Missed you,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. 

It was a significant acknowledgment, considering his past with Sarah's mother and your history with your ex. This was all brand new territory for you both.

“It's worth it, though, right?” you asked, your voice laced with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

Joel's response was a smile that reached his eyes, a look of absolute certainty. “Yeah, it is,” he agreed softly.

Then, with a gentle yet firm pull, he threw his arm around your shoulder and planted a tender kiss on the top of your head as you both began to walk out of the airport. The gesture was protective, affectionate, and filled with unspoken promises of a future that, despite the hurdles, seemed brighter than ever. As you stepped out into the warm early morning air, there was a sense of beginning in every step, a new chapter waiting to be written together.

[noxereah]

Summary : This is Kaeya's birthday but he still has to work, however you have plans for him later !

Genre : Fluff, disgustingly sweet / Established relationship

AN : I hardly ever write and English isn't my first language so pls be nice. Basically I just wrote down the dream I had last night, so there's stuff that's not canon in here. Also, not proofread ! Enjoy <3

Despite today being his birthday, Kaeya had a long day of work ahead of him. He had to start early, and he hated it, the way he'd have to part with you when you weren't even awake yet to kiss him goodbye. As always, he got up as late as he could, enjoying the soft and warm embrace of your bed; so late he didn't have time for breakfast.

Though that wasn't a problem, he'd grab something from the cafeteria, or if he was lucky enough, you'd have enough time to drop by and bring him something homemade. He figured you'd do the latter, it was his birthday after all. So he was indeed surprised when he came back to his office from the horse stalls, to see nothing but a stack of paperwork awaiting him. He sat down with a sigh and started working until he heard noise in the hallway and felt his stomach grumble.

When he came back from a lunch spent with his favourite colleagues, his eye lit up. A fresh bouquet of lilies was decorating his desk, and a small envelope was next to the vase. He sat down and read your letter with a fond smile. He wished you were here right now, so so much. He put the letter back in the envelope and set it in a drawer, making a mental note of reading this whenever he'd miss you at work. He felt more lighthearted during the afternoon, and quickly wrapped up his work to be sure to finish on time. As he was tidying his desk, ready to finally leave; he heard a knock on the door. You didn't wait for him to answer and peeked your head to look inside. A large smile plastered his face, and yours. You entered the room, closed the door and rushed to his open arms.

"Happy birthday, love." You were hugging him so tight he thought he might get crushed. Or was it just his heart getting overwhelmed by his love for you once more ? He couldn't tell but didn't really care either. He kissed your forehead, and pinched your cheek lightly. "Thank you dearest, I missed you so much today." You chuckled lightly. "Why I can see that, long day huh ? Care to join me for a snack ?" His gaze softened a little. "A treat from you ? I wouldn't dream of anything better."

You two sat by a beautiful stained glass window, a warm teapot and pastries to enjoy. You bask in your lover's attention, answering his questions about your day; and returning them as well. As you finish your pastries and serve you two a second cup of tea, you notice two young knights approaching. It seems they were quite admirative of Kaeya, and started bombing him with questions.

He answered as best as he could, it was nice to see him as a role model. His serious side was always a sight to see. After a good twenty minutes, the recruits thanked him and left you two to be. You two decided to leave the Knights' HQ and go for a stroll. As you walked through Mondstadt's streets, arms linked; Kaeya apologised for earlier, having interrupted your time together. You laughed a little, and told him it was nothing to be worried about. "If anything, it was nice to see you so focused and solemn." He looked a little surprised as he focused his gaze on you. "I'm always serious about you." Yet he couldn't help the teasing tone in his voice.

"Now, how about we do something that I've planned ?" You raised an eyebrow. "What's this about ?" He smiled a little in response, and just continued to walk until you arrive at a familiar place. When you two entered Angel's Share tavern, you were greeted by Diluc. He wished his brother a happy birthday. It was nice to see them actually being genuine, no harsh teasing words. Kaeya then led you to the second floor, where unbeknownst to you was a small balcony, offering a pretty sight over Mondstadt's charming buildings as the sun was starting to set.

You and Kaeya sat down on a couch, in front of which was a bottle of wine and a few snacks laying on a coffee table. He took your hand into his, and thanked you for your heartfelt letter and the flowers you brought him. "I have to say though, I had a lot of trouble focusing on my work after reading that. I didn't know you could get so poetic." You smiled at him, a blush creeping up your neck. "I'm not the best with words, but I thought you deserved to know how I truly feel about you" He looked at you in adoration, and leaned in to kiss you. After sharing this moment, he stood up and took your hand. "Care for a dance, love ?" You two just swayed in the small space, for a moment without any concerns obscuring either of your minds.

The bottle popped open, and he filled your two glasses over a conversation; until the sun disappeared. Soon enough after smooth words and poor jokes were exchanged, the bottle got empty. "Well, it's time for us to leave then." You looked at him, surprise reading on your face. But little did you suspect he had made other plans, so you didn't question him and followed him to his place.

When you entered he told you to close your eyes, you heard some rustling, and he told you you could look. He was holding a very finely sewed and decorated cape, matching the colors of your favorite outfit, the very one you chose to wear today. You had seen it months ago, and were still saving to buy it because of how expensive it was. Even with a captain's salary, it was unreasonable. "Kaeya ! You shouldn't have, it's too much !" He smiled fondly "You always spoil me, I just wanted to return the favor dear. Also, we have some place to be that require formal attire; this is the perfect occasion." He placed the cape over your shoulders, kissed your forehead and took your hand in his. "Now humour me, and come along. Do it for your birthday boy." He faked a pout, making you chuckle. "Alright alright, I'll come; wipe that pout off your face, Kae." He smiled at you, put on a different but dashing coat that made your outfits match and he led you to the streets once again.

You were a little confused, arriving at the Knight's HQ again. Kaeya explained to you that his birthday also happens to be on a commemorative day for the knights; one that goes with a proper reception. You were glad Kaeya gifted you with that cape, the reception was indeed grand, and you would have felt a little underdressed without it. It was comforting to see him laugh and drink with his friends, everyone having a well-deserved peaceful evening.

After some dancing, everyone was getting a tad tired, but mostly drunk. You two decided to leave, and walk back to Kaeya's. Being his usual self, a drunk Kaeya wouldn't miss on the opportunity to serenade you. As expected, it was terrible and somehow your laugh was even louder than his terrible singing. His eye was fixed on you the whole time, enjoying the sight of you being so happy by his side. One could think hearing your laugh was his goal from the beginning.

Arriving at his place, the fatigue of the day fell on you both; and you decided to change and go to sleep. This day was amazing, you only wish you could have spent more time together. As you were starting to fall asleep, snuggled into each other's embrace; you both promised to make that day even better next year.

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

I wrote a Sanctuary story for Helen Magnus's birthday! (It's still her birthday my time). Wrote it on day of posting, cross posting on my fic accounts as well. I thought about only posting part of it and linking the rest, but I don't feel like struggling with the link right now.

Enjoy!

____

And (How) Many More

____

It was only because of the newspaper that she realized what day it was.

Really, Helen ought to have known well before she saw the paper being sold on the street, but she'd had other things on her mind.

She had to stop and stare at the paper, picking it up and staring at the front page. Right there, under the name of the paper, was today's date.

August twenty-seventh, nineteen sixty-three.

Helen had to stare at it, do math in her head, even though the evidence was right in front of her. She hadn't thought of it, even though she knew it was that time of year. That time of year hadn't truly crossed her mind either, because it was so cool.

August was winter here and Helen usually associated heat or humidity with her birthday, so that may have had something to do with it.

The boy selling the newspapers cleared his throat and Helen paid him for the paper, taking it with her as she continued walking, breathing in the salty air blowing off the ocean.

Helen wasn't certain why it mattered, really. She hadn't celebrated her birthday in decades. She had not truly celebrated it long before she had pursued Adam into the past. It shouldn't have mattered now. But, for some reason, it did.

Because it reminded her of Henry and Ashley.

When they had been children, they had insisted on celebrating her birthday with slightly sloppy, homemade cakes her old friend had helped them make and homemade gifts that were, in the future, still stored in a drawer in her room.

Helen's heart ached as she thought of her children, the memories rising to the point where she could taste the frosting and see their eager and pleased faces.

Tears burned her eyes. She pressed a hand over them and let out a deep breath.

Two hundred and twenty-six years old and she was about to be crying in the street. Sixty-five years since she had arrived back in the past. So much time alone.

Oh, she had done things in that time. Met people, established things, earned degrees. But it had always been at a distance and her heart ached as she thought of the people she had left behind. People that hadn't even been born yet.

Sixty-five years out of one hundred and thirteen. Sixty-four birthdays.

Helen started walking again, her shoulders curling slightly as she did.

Birthdays didn't matter, but time did.

Helen knew that well. She'd had far more than her allotted time on this Earth.

She felt sometimes that she was being punished for it.

She recited the names, conjured their faces, as she walked. It was a habit Helen had developed. Due to the Source Blood and what it had given her, she had a very remarkable memory for how much was in her mind, but she was terrified she would begin to forget.

She needed to hold on to these things or going home would be so much harder.

Helen made it back to the small house--really, it was barely more than three rooms--that she was living in on the edge of town. Streaky Bay was a small town, but she was always afraid that she was taking the place someone else would have needed. Should have had.

She was altering things for the future, but she was terrified of altering things in the past.

Helen sighed heavily as she walked into the house. It was nearing evening and she needed to do some shopping.

Even that was risky business, filled with doubts of what she should and should not do, because she was an extra person. Someone who shouldn't have been here.

Helen gathered some more money and headed out.

She had had to leave Bolivia earlier this year. She had established what she needed to establish and things had been unstable for quite some time. It had been time to move on.

So she had come to Australia and, honestly, Helen wasn't certain what to do with herself yet.

As she shopped, Helen's mind was on her past birthdays with her children. She was almost tempted to make herself a cake, just to try and capture the memory, the love, but she knew it would just hurt her more.

She did indulge herself slightly, however, purchasing some freshly made short-bread and tea.

Whether she cared for birthdays or not, two hundred and twenty-six was something hardly anyone had--or would--reached.

She found a package, slightly battered from the journey it had taken, had arrived from James. He did that sometimes. He kept track of her, to make sure to guide her younger self away. He always seemed to know when she might need something to cheer her up.

He'd send her little things, meaningless really, but a slight indulgence in a busy life that sometimes didn't leave room for her herself. He'd laugh if he saw what she was considering a luxury on her birthday now.

Walking 'home', she continued to recite the names and imagine their faces.

Ashley.

Henry.

Her old friend.

Will.

Kate.

Declan.

Nikola.

The list went on, but those were the people she would see again.

Others she would never see again, in this life or in the future.

Nigel had died just months ago.

A sob escaped Helen's throat as she reentered her temporary home, tears welling. She had known the date and it hurt all over again, as if it had happened again. Because it had.

She put her groceries away, opened the package, and drew herself a bath, placing James's gift in the water.

Perfumed rose petals.

Expensive and a definite luxury, but they reminded Helen of times long gone. And better yet, they didn't smell like melting wax or sugar sweetened vanilla and they did not bring forth memories of other people.

Helen slid her body into the hot water and closed her eyes.

Closing her eyes brought forth images that she didn't want in her mind. In her mind's eye, Ashley died again. Will, as a child, screamed for his mother. Nikola's face as he became human all over again.

Tears rolled down Helen's face.

She was weary. Bone and soul tired.

She still had so far to go before she could go home. Before her plans could come to fruition.

Helen was sick of it.

And it wouldn't end when she finally went home.

Oh no. Things would be hard in a different way. Her Sanctuaries needed her. Her family needed her. So many people would need her.

She would still have to go on.

More birthdays lay ahead of her, stretching infinitely. She didn't know when it would stop. She didn't know if it could stop by natural means. She just knew that she had to go on, for as long as she walked the earth, she had a duty.

The tears spilled faster.

In truth, the tears were the indulgence, not the perfumed petals.

Helen was a woman that hardly ever let herself cry, even in private. She couldn't remember the last time she had cried. Not in this lifetime.

Her heart throbbed. Her throat ached. The sobs escaped her throat unbidden.

Helen had taken on the mantle of responsibility. No one had forced it on to her. But sometimes, especially in her second lifetime, it stretched too far and weighed too heavily for her to feel all right.

Sometimes it suffocated her.

It had more and more lately, so alone and waiting her meaning, her duty, to come back to her.

Today just made it worse, reminding her of how much time was gone and how much still lay ahead of her.

The tears stopped and a part of Helen was tempted to just stay in the water. Give up, somehow.

But she never could.

Helen soaked in the scented water until it was truly dark outside, until the water was cold. She hadn't used all of them and she supposed she had something to look forward too now.

She lit a candle because the electricity was finicky in the night, made herself some tea and bit into one of the cookies, savoring the sugar-and-butter taste of it as she skimmed the newspaper.

Nothing of interest, not truly. Helen was trying to settle her mind and her emotions. Crying had left her feeling wrung out, but better, somehow.

She paused on a small piece about Coober Pedy and its mining. How remote it was and how the people there struggled to procure the basic things they needed, how it was overpopulated for what it was currently able to sustain.

It was unlikely the problem would be resolved, due to the attraction of the opal mines.

Hmm.

Images were already conjuring themselves in Helen's mind. Of what could be done to help those people, because things wouldn't just go away. Of how useful it might be to be in such a place.

Coober Pedy, Helen decided, was worth a trip out. It wouldn't be hard to procure land, not with the funds in Helen Bancroft's name.

Despite herself, Helen found her mouth twitching towards a small smile.

She had been feeling lost and alone on her birthday, thinking of how much time still stretched ahead of her, but somehow a solution for the now had presented itself to her. Perhaps the day still meant something after all.

It was late now, however. Coober Pedy and whatever it had to offer could come tomorrow.

That small smile on her lips, Helen set the paper down, leaned forward, and blew out the candle.

[linkedkeysau-official]

Linked Keys Febuwhump

Day 16- Semi conscious

One of the first things Wild had warned the Chain about when they arrived in his era was not to buy bananas from anyone who tried to sell them, and to always have a weapon within reach when approaching other travelers. There was a good chance they were no mere traveler or merchant, but a member of a cult of traitorous Sheikah assassins known as the Yiga Clan. And apparently they had a thing for bananas. Unfortunately, Wind did not realize that warning applied to banana bread as well.

Wild and a few of the others had gone out on a scout mission in the desert while the rest of the chain was allowed to hang back and relax at the Canyon Stable. It was nice to stay somewhere warm for once, especially seeing as they had just come down from the Hebra mountains, so everyone was making the most of it. 

The downside to the designated chef being away (and anyone else who could actually cook a decent meal, for that matter) was that it left the remaining Links to fend for themselves for lunch. That was when things went wrong. Wind had found a seemingly inconspicuous merchant near the stable— or at least no more shady or suspicious than Ravio— who was selling “homemade baked goods”, and after smelling that banana bread the hungry teen just couldn’t resist buying some. He didn’t think about the connection between bananas and banana bread. All he cared about was the food right in front of him and his grumbling stomach. So he bought some, and brought it back to share with the others, who were no doubt hungry as well.

Some of the others were suspicious, bringing up that Wild had warned them not to eat any bananas. Four, Tracks, and even Shadow had turned down Wind’s offer. But the rest (Sky, Paint, Ravio, Future, Mask, and Hyrule) had accepted the bread and ate it happily. 

Mask was the first to feel it, though shortly followed by Wind. A feeling of intense dizziness, bordering on nausea, came over them in waves. It was comparable to the times when Wind had drank a little too much rum, only without the fun. Something wasn’t right.

“Wha’s in this… bread again?” Paint asked, his words beginning to slur, “Banan’s…?” He was feeling it too now, as were Future and Ravio, and finally Sky. Hyrule seemed to be the only one who wasn’t acting weird. He felt odd, but it was more like he just felt a little tired; nothing he couldn’t push through. Within seconds, the others around him were dropping like flies, all falling unconscious as if hit over the head by invisible rocks. And yet Hyrule only just started feeling dizzy. In one horrifying moment of panic, he realized what had happened. The bread had been tainted with something. Just like the cookie Hyrule had eaten back in Puertave that had him in a coma for a month. Only now he was the only one not as affected.

Should have listened to Wild… Should have waited for him to come back…  

Blurry shapes were moving towards his fallen friends. Something was dragging them— or him, or both (he couldn't tell)— away.

I need to… to do something… Need to get help…!

He managed to focus just enough to use his fairy spell, Transforming had cleared his head just a bit. He knew fairies were affected differently by certain foods and could even eat some things hylians couldn’t— which had probably been one of the only reasons Hyrule had survived this long— but he hadn’t expected his fairy heritage to ever grant him resistance to poison,or whatever had been in that bread, but clearly whatever was used to drug his friends only affected hylians, and had no effect on fairies. That was at least one thing he could work with in this situation.

He slipped away from the approaching figures (why were they all in red all of a sudden? Weren’t they wearing normal clothes? Or maybe Hyrule was seeing things…) and fluttering away as fast as he could. He had to find Four, or Shadow, or Tracks, or someone! Yet no matter where he tried to flee, he found himself sudddenly cornered by a wall of red. Just red, red, red, red no matter where he looked. He was trapped…

Something shiny in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He feared it was a weapon or something, but when he turned, he saw that it was the stone on Wind’s necklace. Wind’s necklace!!! He could call Wild from that, right? It was worth a shot at least. Might be his only chance. He dove down towards it just in time to avoid a massive hand sweeping towards him.

“WILD!!! SOMEONE!!! HELP! THERE’S BAD PEOPLE TRYING TO—!” He cried out before something wrapped around his body, crushing his wings and rendering him unable to breathe for a moment. He was then tossed harshly into darkness, rough cloth chafing against his skin as he hit the bottom of some kind of bag. Everything hurt so bad… His wings were crumpled and throbbing excruciatingly. His head was pounding, and his entire body felt like it had been crushed under a boulder. 

Everything… hurt… too much…

He couldn’t…

Stay…

Awake…

Any longer…

[lizzygrantarchives]

The Guardian, June 12, 2014

Lana Del Rey has been through the wringer since her breakthrough success led to a vicious backlash, which shows in the 'narco swing' of her brooding new album Ultraviolence – and the fact that she can't stop talking about dying.

"I wish I was dead already," Lana Del Rey says, catching me off guard. She has been talking about the heroes she and her boyfriend share – Amy Winehouse and Kurt Cobain among them – when I point out that what links them is death and ask if she sees an early death as glamorous. "I don't know. Ummm, yeah." And then the death wish.

Don't say that, I say instinctively.

"But I do."

You don't!

"I do! I don't want to have to keep doing this. But I am."

Do what? Make music?

"Everything. That's just how I feel. If it wasn't that way, then I wouldn't say it. I would be scared if I knew [death] was coming, but …"

We're in New Orleans, a city not known for peace and quiet. A couple of blocks from Lana Del Rey's hotel lies Bourbon Street, the scene of drunken rampages from morning till night. Head in the opposite direction and you can expect to be assaulted by the vibrant brass of the French Quarter's street jazz musicians. Even inside Del Rey's elegant suite there is carnage: suitcases half-exploded; bags of corn chips strewn across the floor. Even her laptop has been doused in tomato ketchup, temporarily thwarting our attempts to hear songs from her new album Ultraviolence. "Ewww," she says, baffled as to how a condiment could have found its way inside the power socket.

And yet when we move outside to sit on her balcony, the scene is transformed into complete calm. "This place is magical," she says, sparking up the first of many cigarettes. So serene is the setting, in fact, that it takes me by surprise when Del Rey begins to tell me how unhappy she is: that she doesn't enjoy being a pop star, that she feels constantly targeted by critics, that she doesn't want to be alive at all.

"Family members will come on the road with me and say: 'Wow, your life is just like a movie!'" she says at one point. "And I'm like: 'Yeah, a really fucked-up movie.'"

Throughout our hour-long conversation she keeps returning to dark themes. Telling her story – a remarkable one that involves homelessness, biker gangs and being caught in the eye of a media hurricane – also involves working out why a songwriter who has sold more than 7m copies of her last album, Born To Die seems so disillusioned with life.

Perhaps the logical place to start, then, is with the extraordinary reaction to Video Games, her breakthrough song in 2011. Arriving seemingly out of nowhere (although Del Rey had been posting her songs and homemade videos for some time), the video's Lynchian creepiness cast a spell on almost everyone who saw it, causing the song to go viral. Yet no sooner had the plaudits started rolling in (the Guardian voted it the best song of 2011) than Del Rey was placed under the intense scrutiny of endless blogposts and think pieces, with critics poring over her past for evidence of fakery: was her carefully studied aesthetic for real? Was she really just a major label puppet? Had her dad funded a previous bid for fame? Were her lips the result of plastic surgery? Was she really born as plain old Elizabeth Grant rather than emerging from the womb fully formed as the popstar Lana Del Rey?

I ask how long she got to enjoy the success of Video Games before the backlash arrived and she looks surprised. "I never felt any of the enjoyment," she says. "It was all bad, all of it."

Del Rey says she's not scared to put another record out because she "knows what to expect this time", but during the two-and-a-half years since Born to Die came out, she has often dismissed the idea of a follow-up because she'd "already said everything I wanted to say". So what changed?

"I mean, I still feel that way," she says. "But with this album I felt less like I had to chronicle my journeys and more like I could just recount snippets in my recent past that felt exhilarating to me."

From the handful of songs I get to hear at the hotel, it's safe to say the new material has plenty to get the bloggers worked up about again. Sad Girl, for instance, talks about how "being a mistress on the side, might not appeal to fools like you".

She laughs when I ask where the inspiration came from: "A good question. I mean … I had different relationships with men, with people, where they were sort of wrong relationships, but still beautiful to me."

By wrong does she mean being the other woman?

She laughs again and looks away coyly. "I mean, I guess so."

It's not clear if Money, Power, Glory was originally written just to rile her detractors but it makes a decent stab at it by warning: "I'm going to take them for all that they've got."

"I was in more of a sardonic mood," she says of writing that song. "Like, if all that I was actually going to be allowed to have by the media was money, loads of money, then fuck it … What I actually wanted was something quiet and simple: a writer's community and respect." She talks about that frequently: craving a peaceful life in an artistic community, away from the glare of a media that "always puts an adjective in front of my name, and never a good one".

Like the woozy soft rock of the album's teaser track West Coast, many of the songs on Ultraviolence are slow-tempo and atmospheric, ditching the hip-hop trappings of Born To Die for what she and her producer – the Black Keys' Dan Auerbach – call a "real narco swing". Del Rey originally thought she had completed the album back in December, but after meeting Auerbach in a club and dancing the night away with him she realised she needed to record it all over again with his looser techniques – adding a more casual, California vibe to the sound by recording in single takes, with cheap microphones bought from the drugstore.

It wasn't all plain sailing. One track, Brooklyn Baby, had been written with Lou Reed in mind: he'd wanted to work with Del Rey and so she'd flown over to New York to meet him. "I took the red eye, touched down at 7am … and two minutes later he died," she says.

If the critical sniping had died down, then Del Rey was finding her life invaded by other, more intrusive, means. In 2012, her personal computer was accessed by hackers and all sorts of information started to appear online: pictures, financial details, health records, not to mention her songs. "All 211 of them," she sighs. "Just one more element of the unknown in my daily life." She says she has no way of knowing who currently has access to several years' worth of material, and no way of controlling the slow-drip leak of them online, including songs written for other people and at least one – Black Beauty – that was originally scheduled for Ultraviolence.

Indeed, when you start to look closely at Del Rey's past three years, it's not hard to understand why she might feel burned by her experience of stardom. You're also forced to wonder why the pop stars who attract the most vitriol are so often solo female artists.

"People ask me this all the time," she says. "I think they think there's an element of sexism going on, but I feel that it's more personal. I don't see where the female part comes into it. I just can't catch that feminist angle."

I mention some current examples of musicians getting picked over in the spotlight: Miley Cyrus, Lorde, Lily Allen, Lady Gaga, Sinéad O'Connor spring to mind.

"Well maybe those people are true provocateurs," she says. "But I'm really not and never have been. I don't think there's any shock value in my stuff – well, maybe the odd disconcerting lyric – but I think other people probably deserve the criticism, because they're eliciting it."

What about her video for Ride, in which she hooks up with a succession of older guys from biker gangs (it received criticism for, among other things, appearing to glamorise prostitution)?

"OK," she concedes. "I can see how that video would raise a feminist eyebrow. But that was more personal to me – it was about my feelings on free love and what the effect of meeting strangers can bring into your life: how it can make you unhinged in the right way and free you from the social obligations I hope we're growing out of in 2014."

How much did that video reflect her actual life?

"Oh, 100%"

Hanging out with biker gangs and going off with different guys?

"Yeah," she says, looking away again with another awkward laugh.

For all the accusations of being a fraud, Lana Del Rey seems to have lived a more rock'n'roll existence than your average pop star. She talks of teenage years spent "displaced … I didn't have a home, didn't know my social security number" and says she wasn't in contact with her parents for about six years. Which must have made it extra galling when accusations came in that her career was funded by her father. "It was the exact opposite of that," she says. "We never had more money than anyone we ever knew in town. My dad was a well-loved entrepreneur – he was interested in the early dawning of the internet in 1994 – but it wasn't anything that ever translated financially." When those stories first emerged in the wake of Video Games she says she wasn't even sure what her father was doing with his life: "And I don't think he was too sure what I had been up to either. So it was interesting that they sort of fictionally put us side-by-side together and involved him in that story."

Del Rey likes to describe the more tumultuous periods of her life in romantic terms: she says she'd often spend her nights wandering around New York – "West Side Highway, Lower East Side, parts of Brooklyn" – meeting strangers and seeing where the night took them. "I was inspired by Dylan's stories of meeting people and making music after you met them. I met a lot of singers, painters, bikers passing through. They were friends, or sometimes more. All people I was really interested in on impact."

It sounds pretty dangerous.

"Yeah, I was lucky, but I also have strong intuition."

Does she still do it?

"Sometimes."

Does anyone ever say: "Hang on … you're Lana Del Rey!"

"Sometimes they do. About half the time they do, half the time they don't. If they know who I am I can just leave, or I say it's not a big deal, I'm just a singer."

Are they not surprised to see you out wandering the streets?

"If I'm in LA then maybe. If I'm in Omaha, maybe not."

When she was 18, Del Rey's darker experiences – she has talked about being alcoholic – prompted her to take up outreach work helping those addicted to drugs or alcohol. It's something she describes as her true calling and something she still does when she gets the chance.

"I live in Koreatown on the edge of Hancock Park [in LA], so I do different things where and when I can. It's not just people with mental illness on the streets, but also people who, throughout the years, have lost identification information, that sort of thing. And I know what to do, I know how I can help, because I was that person."

She says it feeds directly into her music. "A lot of my songs are not just simple verse-chorus pop songs – they're more psychological." She talks about tempo, and how she likes to reflect her mental state through a song's speed: "When I played [the label] West Coast they were really not happy that it slipped into an even slower BPM for the chorus," she says. "They were like: 'None of these songs are good for radio and now you're slowing them down when they should be speeded up.' But for me, my life was feeling murky, and that sense of disconnectedness from the streets is part of that."

She longs to be regarded as a serious songwriter, which is why those early accusations of fakery stung her so badly. Yet Del Rey only really needs to take a step back to see how well things have gone for her since she rode out that initial storm and began accruing the critical respect she feels she deserves. Outside music, too, her life appears relatively settled, even if she does describe her relationship with fellow musician Barrie-James O'Neill intensely: "We have a difficult road. He's a very dark character. He has months on end where it's a really dark stretch of writing and waiting, he has his total own world so …"

She falls silent. A waft of brass floats by and mingles with her cigarette smoke. I think about her live shows, such as the outdoor one she's due to play later that night, during which she'll respond to the constant screams – her fans are too busy taking photos to applaud – by letting her band jam away for 20 minutes while she wanders the photo pit, posing for selfies with fans in the front row. Surely during those moments she must love what she does.

"No," she says. Then after another drag from her cigarette she looks down towards the busy street below and says. "I don't know what I think. All I know is that, right now, I like sitting here, on this terrace." She leans back and, for a moment, looks completely content in the silence.

Ultraviolence is released on Polydor on 16 June. Tim Jonze's trip to New Orleans was paid for by Polydor.

Originally published on theguardian.com with the headline Lana Del Rey: 'I wish I was dead already'.

Following the article’s publication, Lana Del Rey shared subsequently deleted tweets criticizing the piece:

Read The Guardian’s response here.

[deputygonebye]

Frail from skin to bone, pale and lost for color, everything but the perfectly applied makeup to her eyes and cheeks, the memory of Jean came to pass like lightening strike, unexpected and agonizingly painful to endure. On the soft trail of Emilia's own thoughts - the uncertain feelings that burdened all, weighed onto shoulders until spine and vertebrae snapped under the pressure. Weakened and confined to her bed, homemade quilts for blankets, pillows of old bird feathers for support at the head, her touch in Shane's hands warm, soft and delicate. Replete with all the love that hadn't been given from father nor mother; as tears threatened to spill down from scared brown eyes, the hopelessness of a boy not yet grown into a man. Who pictured himself so strong and tough; unbreakable, beloved by everyone and everyone's greatest friend, bound for better than what he was born into. Pleas and prayers whispered from his lips, so many years since, Shane still tasted their bitter flavor on his tongue. As if the space he sat within wasn't Alexandria but the home of his childhood, his happiness with Jean, sunshine cast through the windows, her smile accompanied by final breath, her chest never to rise again. Shane's two hands wrapped around her one; trembling, shaking, cries into the afternoon heard by only the faces that hung in frames on the wall.

Terribly alone, Shane sauntered into life unattended. Free, promised to none, his ambitions set to the efforts of his own kind, the blood and sweat that could be pooled. Hardened bones shattered, flesh scraped and cut; until the badge on his chest was made true, pinned onto his uniform and presented before many. Proud and excited, name and face no more linked to tragic stories and community tale, the first step to really seen change. An actual someone rather than the scion of Jonathan - better than the blood that ran through both their veins, success that sacred few ever imagined Shane would amount to. Finally arrived to the place that he always wished for, where Jean always hoped, captured in the blink of an eye by reasons least anticipated. In the midst of siren calls and terrified screams, streets overrun and turned into the vision of end times, the dead risen and the living slaughtered. Accomplishments equaled failure; all that Shane had worked toward gone up in ash and smoke, the distant blast of gunfire, the sinister burn of bombs over Atlanta.

Frightened child of eighteen returned then, at the cold stare of a coin reflected, silvered and golden in two-tones, rose, leek, and thistle unforgiving in their glance at him, as if they, too, could peer into his soul, Shane brushed the chill that crept up his back with an unhurried air, calm and collected on the surface, uncomfortable and uneased beneath. Memories of all sorts tedious; it was like he lost Jean all over again.

Palm gone to the back of his neck, rubbed the tense muscles there, a shrug lifted Shane's shoulders, quick but not in the manners of indifference.

"Maybe it's just my bein' raised in the southern US of A for so long, but, I don't know about that." Shane prompted, hands rested on either of his thighs, posture slouched and relaxed still on steps.

"Alright, maybe the coin ain't all that lucky, but somethin' must've been lookin' out for you all this time. Call me superstitious if you wanna, but there's a reason why you're here now, why we all are. Ain't like so many others have made it this far. Hell, I reckon, I shouldn't even be here myself... but I am. Somethin' kept me around. I don't know if that's luck, or just my own will to survive another day, but there's a reason why I ain't six feet under. We've been put through hell, Em. We've fought and we've clawed to get where we are; we've both lost folks we cared about in all this. Maybe it ain't exactly luck, but, damn, it's somethin' worth bein' thankful over and proud of."

Shane admitted, the slightest sign that a door was opened for Emilia, truth told to only those most trusted. "I've made choices, Emilia, that I can't ever take back. I used to think of myself as somebody who couldn't be taken down. Shit, thought I could do anythin'. I've done what I've needed to in order to survive - to protect my group, to be there for my daughter - but I can't deny it: I've been lucky. Guess you could say, I'm one very lucky son-of-a-bitch. Makes me wonder sometimes: why me? I suppose, the Lord's got a sense of humor. My comeuppance is playin' for the long haul, not the short."

alexandria had the unintentional side effect of giving her more time to think — the supposed safety behind those walls meant at least for the moment not having to worry about where she’ll be spending the night, or getting her next meal, or if sleep will be in fits and starts of a half hour here and twenty minutes there to make sure she sees another sunrise. and while that might feel like a weight off her shoulders, it’s been quickly replaced with an ache in her chest she hasn’t dealt with since leaving new york city. what would her parents have thought of this place? or her brothers? nostalgia cuts both ways — and it’s one of the reasons why she’s got herself taking a little walk down memory lane while she goes through the contents of her bag while enjoying a bit of company watching time creep slowly by in the heat of the afternoon.

it’s all the usual things she finds; her notebook, bits of paper, a half eaten pack of twizzlers she’d been lucky enough to find before coming here —— until she finds a coin; heavy and two - toned, her brother charlie’s lucky 1£ he’d snuck into her bags when she’d left london for new york. she hadn’t found it until days later; and a furious phone call later ( on her end; he hadn’t been able to stop laughing – she wasn’t superstitious, she just didn’t like the thought of him giving her something that he was particular about ), she’d sworn to give it back to him as soon as she was able – in person. she cups the coin in her palm, turning it over and over again with the gentle nudge of a finger.

so much for being lucky.

“two actually. both older. i’m the baby of the family.” it feels a little strange to refer to herself like that now, all these years later — every one of them grown up and on their own. she laughs at the thought of finding a spider hidden among her things, and he’s not too far off — charlie and thomas had somehow managed to put a hedgehog in her underwear drawer growing up. she still hadn’t figured out how they had pulled that one off. “you would’ve gotten along with both of them then, i think.” a thought that she wants to keep from wandering it’s way into sadness like so many other memories of the two of them. but it’s difficult not to feel the pang in her chest when she talks about them, even now. her fingers retreat, revealing the coin in the middle of her palm. “this is — was my brother’s quid. he snuck it into my luggage before i came over. thought i might need it since he liked to think it was lucky.” and with no way to know what was going on back across that ocean, there’s guilt in wondering if he needed it even more.

and charlie wasn’t the only one who kept little bits of luck, it seemed. she leans in with quiet anticipation, curious to see what shane keeps ( quite literally ) close to his chest on the end of the chain she’s seen peek out from under his shirt before. “she sounds like a sweet lady,” which is probably a severe understatement based on the way he talks about her, but the soft smile she offers up along with it hopefully conveys how genuinely she means it. and maybe that’s the lesson she needs to take with all this —- not regretting charlie giving it to her in the first place or her inability to ever be able to return it to him, but to see it as a way to keep her family close while knowing she most likely will never be again. she doesn’t even know if they’re even still alive…

so when shane goes on to say his grandmother passed long before any of this, she can see why he’d think of it as a blessing out of a curse. there’s no unknown – it’s settled. over and done. what this world’s become can’t seep itself into those memories. “i’m sorry you lost her like that. such an awful way to pass,” she murmurs, going back to flipping the coin over with her fingertip.

“my family — i’m still not sure. haven’t spoken to them since everything went to shit. i want to hope they’re still alive and together, but,” she pauses to swallow, hoping to push down the ‘maybe it’s better if they’re gone and can’t suffer through all this’ she can’t bring herself to say just yet.

“i dunno. maybe charlie was wrong about there being any luck on this.”

[ofcloudsandstars]

Spring Crossquarter {Beltane} Fantasy Feast

We are nearing the pinnacle of Spring! I long for the day when I can have the most dreamy aromatic sensual Beltane feast and celebration. However creating visual boards is the first step towards that reality. I did go overboard with some of the selections with this one, like I tried to be more Honest in my Imbolc and Ostara board (like as if I were to actually have a feast and constructed a menu) but this one I did not care about portions or the amount of dishes present, I just threw everything in there.

As I have decided to update my 2016 fantasy feasts Beltane was next after Ostara and Imbolc. These visualization posts have helped me manifest some incredible celebrations and gatherings and as my tastes have gotten more extravagant and complicated its time for an upgrade.

In the read more there are the recipe links and additional explanations on personal symbolism and of course the image credits! I also always plan my feasts to be vegan inclusive for those with dietary restrictions but also aim for all the food to be somewhat local which matters in these seasonal feasts since it's celebrating local nature. Anyway there is something for everyone here.

1: Starters Since we are in still in Spring of course there will be a crudité board, yet unlike Ostara which was refreshing and green, this would show all the floral extravagance of spring from the zesty radishes, edible flowers (Romanesco broccoli is technically a flower!) to floral seasonal toppings. To make the dip vegan for all to enjoy I would go for an Oatley crème fraiche dipping sauce I would infuse with some olive oil and chive blossoms. Along with this I would love to have the delicacy of chive butter snails with chive flowers. Not everyone would be adventurous for snails but there are a lot of other ideas here for starters such as the Creamy Garlic Scape with Chive Flower Pesto tart. Or the Purple Pansy Salad Rolls which would be a nice addition to the crudité board. Lastly I just love the presentation of the butterfly sandwiches. I'd imagine them to be like the little cucumber or spiced egg sandwiches you'd get at high tea. If I were to slap all of these dishes into one feast I would mostly have the crudité board with the scape tart and the snails. I am unsure about the rolls and sandwiches because it would just be really filling before the main course! But they deserve to be seen haha.

Floral Crudite Board Creamy Garlic Scape + Chive Flower Pesto and Asparagus Tart Recipe Purple Pansy Salad Rolls Recipe Snails with Chive Flowers Tea Party Butterfly Sandwiches Source

2: Sides The bread choice would be chive rolls. To accompany this would be floral compact butter. A lot of flowers are actually more savory and salady then fragrant and sweet. Even some of the more aromatic blooms have a vegetal undertone to their flavor which is why the violet vinaigrette caught my eye. That would definitely accompany the artichoke veggie main where guests would be able to dip each artichoke petal in. Lastly there will definitely be asparagus locally grown as they taste incredible when fresh out the garden. The ones the local garden I volunteer at taste so aromatic yet also slightly meaty? It's hard to describe but incredible sensual like the same way truffles have a somewhat "meaty" or umami flavor to them but are very aromatic.

Compound Flower Butter Recipe Honorable Mention: Compact Chive Garlic Butter Recipe Cheddar Chive Bread Rolls Asparagus Source Violet Vinaigrette

3: Mains The Main two dishes would be an aromatic duck served with a side of spring onions sliced into blooms. Duck also has such a fragrant and rich flavor to it that would accompany the floral salads and dishes very well. The vegan option would be roasted artichoke that guests can dip into the floral vinaigrette.

Roasted Beer Duck Recipe Garlic Butter Charred Artichoke Recipe Red Onion Flowers with Rosemary Recipe Roasted Onion Flowers

4: Desserts Ok this is definitely where I have gone overboard but there were too many dishes to choose from which made the selection difficult so I just included all of them for the visuals. If I were to host this feast I would realistically just pick 1 or 2 of these things (A cake and a tart) but for each sabbat I have a special dessert, a tart and a simple cake in mind so it would really depend on how many people are attending. For the special dish I would love a floral jelly, a floral panna cotta or floral jello cake like with blossoms or violets. The tart is rhubarb (I know in some regions rhubarb is very summer-y but mid-April is when it's season starts here in the UK) and the pound cake would be rose buttercream or violet sugar. I do love how buttercream can be easily shaped into flowery shapes so I’d be leaning towards that.  I just love the complexity and versatility of floral desserts. You do have to be a little familiar with what you're doing because floral flavors can easily go from sensual and enchanting to soap/perfume getting squirted in your mouth. Some flavors like rose and jasmine are very safe but others like lavender and violet can get edgy. A great way to balance those flavors out is adding honey as it balances it with a nectary undertone which makes you feel like you are eating delicious butterfly food instead of a block of soap. Lastly the Wondersmith's beautiful cake is very summer solstice vibe I will admit, but I really loved the presentation of butterflies and the elderflower blooms which are starting to bud around this time of year anyway so I thought it was worth adding in. Usually I would not include anything like strawberries in something like this as I feel they peak closer to summer solstice and are more symbolic to summer than spring for me and the region I live in currently.

Rhubarb Rose-twisted Tart The Wondersmith Elderflower Rhubarb Fairy Cake Lilac & Violet Panna Cotta Tart Lavender Lemon Sugar Pound Cake Rose Buttercream Cupcakes Cherry Blossom Jelly No bake Cheesecake Buttercream Pansy Cake Black Sesame Swirl Cake

Honorable Mentions: Lilac Cake with Matcha Glaze (Gluten Free)  Flower Bouquet Cake

5: Drinks Every beverage of course would be infused with more blooms and nectary flavors. I would love to serve fleurette cocktails upon arrival with fairy floss in them that would melt down upon pouring. Fleurette cocktails are pink prosecco, st germain (or elderflower syrup), rose water and a flower garnish. There would be so many options for non alcoholic drinks such as Lavender lemonade, floral teas and of course I would love to have a blooming tea being served in a glass pot during the main course.

La Fleurette Cocktail Fairy Floss Champagne reference Lavender Lemonade Flower Tea Source Blooming Tea Source

Honorable Mentions: Rose Tea Turkish Delight Cocktail

6: Treats Ok finally last part!! This would probably be omitted from a real feast I would host because we would probably get our sweet-tooths satisfied by dessert, however I always feel like including this part as treats always made holidays more memorable for me as a kid. Each holiday had its specific candy or snacks and they were like memorable tokens you acquired and snacked on days later after the celebration. Especially the candy!! If there were kids present these treats would definitely be given in little goody bags maybe in flower pots or planters as buckets to encourage them to grow something for their garden in them. Some ideas for treats would be glazed sugar cookies (the butterfly ones), home made pixie sticks with edible glitter, rose pops (I also love the idea of dressing up regular lollipops as flowers), rose Turkish delights, violet candies and gummy worms. The only savory treat I can think of would be like kale chips.

Rose Cake Pops recipe Butterfly Iced Cookies Homemade Pixie Sticks Homemade Rose Turkish Delights Leone Violets

___________________

Please share your thoughts with me!! Tell me about the recipes you like to have on this day or what you associate with spring. I feel like my approach to Beltane may be different from what most of the community does but its because it's often a reflection of the nature that surrounds me. I grew up this time of the year being bombarded (literally I was surrounded by magnolia trees) with flowers so Beltane has always been a sensual floral flirty fairy festival to me.

_________________

Image Credits:

Beltane Tea by Julia Nikitina Butterfly Animation Gif Embracing by: James R Eads Floral Tablescape Bigger Floral Tablescape Rose Lanterns Misty Forest with Bluebells Magnolia Tree Mushroom Lantern Floral candles and Lilac Dessert tablescape

[fleetingpieces]

My One in a Million CH 5

Ok ok it’s here!! Once again, thank you @knittingdreams and @inloveoknutzy for being such amazing betas ❤️ And thank you @wonder-womans-ex for the idea of Sirius making awful cookies haha @donttouchmycarrots @sunflowerfox87 @justdyingontheinside @heyoitslysso @whataboutmyfries Please let me know if I forgot anyone that wanted to be tagged! :)

And of course, the lovely characters are from @lumosinlove ‘s world 

Thank you so much for reading y’all! ❤️

Masterlist

Chapter 5 - Making amends

Sirius had a plan.

It was very simple. He wanted to clear the air with Remus, show him he wasn’t a horrible person. And to do that, he needed to stop being an ass.

Sirius had never been more self-conscious of how much his family affected his moods. He hated the idea of them having that kind of power over him. After all, he’d escaped that house years ago to avoid precisely that: having no control over his own life.

He had a tendency to go on a self-destructive streak whenever he felt overwhelmed by his parents' demands, it was the only way he knew how to cope with it. It was unhealthy, he was perfectly aware of that, and he was tired of not being able to find another way. Yeah, he wanted to do something nice for Remus to compensate for his behaviour, but he also wanted to do this for himself. So, now that he was feeling like his own person again, Sirius was going to fix all of his bad habits, go back to being a decent human being, and apologize to Remus. 

It was going to work.

“That’s not gonna work.”

Sirius stared at Finn. He was sprawled on the couch, carding his fingers through Logan’s hair, who was sitting between his legs. Sirius would never admit it, but sometimes he was jealous of the relationship they had. He yearned for something like that.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, you can do all of that, but it will all be for nothing if he still refuses to even look at your face.”

“Why don’t you just tell him you’re Padfoot?” James asked as he walked into the room with two bowls of snacks in his hands, before he plopped down on the floor. “D’you think he’d tell?”

“No, I don’t believe Remus would do something like that. He would definitely try to keep Padfoot’s identity. I just…” Sirius trailed off and stared down at his hands, fiddling with them on his lap. Then he lifted his head to look at James’ confused expression. “I just don’t want the same thing to happen again. Not that I think Remus would try to take advantage of my popularity, but I…” he heaved a sigh, “I don’t want him to like me just because I’m Padfoot. I want him to like me because of me.”

There was a short silence as his three friends glanced at each other, and then Logan snorted.

“You big softie,” he said with a smirk. Sirius threw a cushion to his face.

He didn’t tell them the other reason why he was reluctant to tell Remus the truth: he was scared he would disappoint him.

The man thought so highly of Padfoot, it was so obvious by the way he spoke of him and how his eyes shone when he did. But would he still think the same if he knew that Padfoot was in fact his annoying neighbour? It seemed so important to him, for reasons Sirius didn’t understand, but still. He didn’t want to ruin that for Remus.

“So what are you going to do?” James said through a mouthful of chips.

Sirius perked up and smiled wickedly at his friends, making them groan even before he started talking.

“I’m glad you asked, Prongs. I’m gonna start by soundproofing my recording room. Which is why you lot are here today.”

James let out an audible gasp, “and here I thought you actually enjoyed our company. You were planning on using us all along!” he tilted his head up, placing his wrist on his forehead like he was about to faint.

“Outrageous.”

“I’m shocked.”

“I never expected this of you, Sirius,” Finn added, pretending to wipe the corner of his eyes.

“D’accord, d’accord!” Sirius huffed. “Dinner’s on me, oui? Don’t look at me like that, Prongs. I know you’ll be recording in here as well, so you might as well stop complaining and help.”

“Why are we here then?” Logan grumbled as he burrowed closer to Finn’s front, searching for his warmth.

“Cause you love me too much, and cause me and James alone would probably end up building a fort instead.”

James grinned cheekily at him, like he hadn’t dismissed that idea yet, but he got up. The four of them went to the room at the end of the hall, where Sirius had a couple of computers, lots of collectibles, and piles of acoustic foam and command strips to do the job.

“You know, you could probably teach Remus a thing or two about video editing. Leo showed us some of them and they’re good, but they are missing a little something,” Finn said offhandedly.

Sirius tripped over a chair, sending it wheeling against the desk.

“You...you saw the videos?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant about it, but the effect was completely ruined with Logan snickering in the background. 

“Wait, since when are you friends with Leo?” James raised his eyebrows as he stared suspiciously from Logan to Finn.

Finn blushed slightly, but it was Logan who answered. “Oh, you know... we hung out a couple of times after the party. He’s cool.”

“He’s cool,” Sirius snorted. He hadn’t missed the way all three of them had thrown glances at each other all night at Halloween. There was something going on that he didn’t quite understand yet, but he wanted to give them the space they needed to talk about it if they wanted to.

Besides, there were other things on his mind as of then.

He’d completely forgotten about the existence of those videos. How that had happened after the display he saw on the balcony the other day was beyond him. Working on the room and waiting for the guys to be distracted enough was torture for Sirius. He had to keep reminding himself it was for a good cause, that Remus and his other neighbours would appreciate it.

But as soon as the food arrived and the guys sat down in the living room to watch TV, Sirius disappeared back into his recording room.

Finding the videos wasn’t hard. Apparently, there weren’t that many Remuses out there that were yoga instructors. Shocking, he knew. He pulled up the first video that appeared and almost choked on his breath.

There was Remus, bent backwards in the air over another man’s feet. Sirius registered at the back of his mind that the man was Leo, but he was more focused on the way Remus seemed to be flying as Leo, who was lying on the floor, kept him up by pressing his feet at Remus’ lower back and curve of his ass. A pop-up note at the bottom of the screen said the pose was called “back bow”. Sirius could understand why Finn thought he could use some help with editing, but right then, he didn’t really give a crap about that. Not with Remus’ muscles stretched taught to keep himself balanced and in shape, the tights he was wearing hugging the length of his legs and hips snugly, leaving very little to the imagination.

Sirius watched, transfixed, at the way Remus bent gracefully, his lean body arching and flipping in the air before Leo caught him. It was fucking gorgeous.

At the end of the video, a link was dropped that Sirius clicked almost on instinct. He was led to a website that offered all sorts of merchandise: mats, t-shirts, hoodies, sweatpants, leggings, and a few more things. Before Sirius could stop to analyse his fanboy (and slightly stalkerish) behaviour, he started adding stuff to the cart.

“Sirius, what the hell are you doing? Your food is getting cold.” James entered the room but stopped short when Sirius hastily got up and stood in front of the computer screen. He raised an eyebrow and glanced around his best friend, surprise marking his features when he got a look at what he was doing. “You really are smitten, aren’t you?”

Sirius rubbed a hand over his face, dropping himself back on the chair. He could talk about it with James, James wouldn’t make fun of him. “I...I don’t know. I’m just so curious about him. Like...I really want to talk to him more? Is that weird?”

“Nah, it’s not.” He walked over and propped himself on the desk next to Sirius, “I think it’s great that you’re actually trying. Don’t…” he sighed, “don’t close yourself off. You don’t need to do that anymore.”

Finn and Logan’s laughs drifted in through the door, breaking the haze in Sirius’ thoughts.

“Yeah...Yeah, thanks Potts.”

James bumped his fist against Sirius’ shoulder, smiling fondly at him. “No problem. Now get your ass there and eat your food.” He slung an arm around Sirius’ neck and started dragging him to the living room.

Sirius laughed and let himself be steered into a chair as he stole a glance at his two other friends, who were stealing kisses and food from each other, thinking that maybe James had a point. Maybe it was ok for him to want this.

***

Standing in front of the door with the number ten on it, Sirius felt a bit like an idiot. He was there, with a canvas painting -wrapped neatly in parchment paper- under one arm, and a box of homemade cookies in his hand.

Lily had mentioned what it was exactly that Sirius had broken, and Sirius had looked at many local artists until he found one he thought was perfect.

The cookies had been Sirius’ idea. He’d made them himself and vowed to never let any of his friends find out about it or he wouldn’t be able to live it down. 

Pumping himself up, Sirius plastered his best smile on his face and knocked on the door. A few moments later it swung open, and then Remus was in front of him, still looking back into his apartment with a smile.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he said, but when he turned around and looked at Sirius, his smile faltered. The waver of those lips made Sirius’ heart tremble too. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Sirius breathed. After a few seconds of both of them just staring at each other, Sirius cleared his throat. “Can I...um...Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” Remus seemed surprised, but he crossed his arms and stared at him, waiting.

Oh, this is worse than I thought. Sirius shifted his weight. “Is it ok if I come in?” he asked, and then he thought about Remus’ first words. “Or..oh shit, do you have company?”

“No,” Remus frowned. He glanced suspiciously at the stuff on Sirius’ hands before he heaved a sigh and stepped back to let him through.

Sirius’ first impression of Remus’ flat was that it suited him. It was warm, just like Remus seemed to be with anyone that wasn’t Sirius. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by him in the past few weeks how sweet and kind he was, always smiling and helping others. Sirius really wanted to be his friend. Ok, maybe more than friends, but right now, he would be happy with just that.

“What do you need?” Remus asked in an uninterested tone. He didn’t invite Sirius to sit down, and instead just stood there in the middle of the living room.

Sirius turned to look at him, his mouth opening to start apologising, but his attention was drawn to something behind the other man. Cocoa was approaching them slowly, placing one paw in front of the other without making a sound, his yellow eyes focused on Sirius’ face and his lips slightly pulled up.

A wide smile pulled at Sirius’ mouth, his eyes lighting up. “Hey doggy!” He crouched, extending a hand towards the animal.

“Sirius, don’t!” Remus tried to stop the dog, but Cocoa was already onto Sirius. And then he froze altogether at what he saw. Cocoa merely sniffed Sirius’ hand, sat down, and started wagging his tail.

Sirius laughed, “whoa, you’re even larger up close.” His eyes found Remus’. “Why are you so jumpy? He’s such a good dog,” he said as he started scratching Cocoa’s ears, “aren’t you?”

The wolfdog barked once and leaned into Sirius’ hand with its tongue hanging out.

“I...I don’t get it,” Remus was staring at him in awe, his mouth hanging open as his dog got closer to Sirius.

“What?”

“Cocoa is never so friendly with strangers. It usually takes him a long time to stop being alert and wary...but he seems to like you.”

Cocoa licked Sirius’ face as if to confirm that statement, making Sirius laugh again.

“Of course he does. We’re the same, aren’t we boy?”

“What do you mean?” Remus asked, still looking slightly disoriented.

“Well, I’m named after the dog star, aren’t I? And I’m a Black,” he gestured between himself and Cocoa as if he was stating something obvious.

The corners of Remus’ lips lifted up like he was trying really hard not to smile.

“Oh my God, that’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard!” he said, covering his mouth with a hand.

“You can deny it all you want, but he loves me.”

Cocoa inched even closer to Sirius and put his nose on the box that was still in his hand.

“Oh no, that’s not for you. Sorry, boy.”

“I’ve actually been meaning to ask, but what exactly is that?” Remus frowned.

“Oh, right.” Sirius petted Cocoa one last time and got up, fidgeting with the paper covering the present he’d brought. “Well, this is why I wanted to talk to you. I um…I only found out a few days ago that you were the person I bumped into that day. I just wanted to make amends.”

He handed Remus the big square package and waited anxiously as the other man narrowed his eyes at him and started ripping the paper off. He was pretty confident in the choice he’d made, but he hoped Remus would like it.

“What the hell is this?”

Remus was staring down at the landscape peeking out of the torn paper: a beautiful impressionist rendition of a full moon over a waterfall, with a pack of wolves peeking out of a forest. It was very well done, and not at all deserving of the glare Remus was throwing its way. Sirius’ head was reeling. How did he manage to make someone so kind and polite react in this way every time?

“I know it’s not the same as the one I broke, but I-”

“Damn right it’s not!” Remus snapped. His hands were shaking. Cocoa seemed to sense something was wrong, cause he was there in an instant, standing in front of Remus, trying to find where the threat was. Remus plunged on, his voice rising with an emotion Sirius couldn’t place, “My mum made that for me! You think you can just replace it with any expensive crap? You can’t possibly believe this is the same as something that meant so much to me, something that kept me going during-” Remus cut himself off and looked up to the ceiling. He was breathing hard, rubbing his temple with one hand while he held the painting in the other.

“I...I didn’t know. I… fuck,” Sirius closed his eyes, cursing himself, before looking pleadingly at Remus, trying to convey his emotions properly. “I’m so, so sorry. I never intended it to be a replacement. I...I just wanted to apologise.”

He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up royally before he’d even properly met the guy, all because he couldn’t control his bad temper. He should probably go before making things worse. But he didn’t want to. He’d come here to make everything better, not to leave things like this. Glancing around to buy some time, he tried to think of a way to reverse the situation.

His eyes found something and, without even thinking about it, he blurted, “oh, so you bought the game?”

“What?” 

Sirius pointed awkwardly to the NHL game box sitting on top of the coffee table. “I know we started on the wrong foot, but maybe we can have a rematch? Break the ice with something we’re both comfortable with?”

Remus stared at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was right, but Sirius was anything if not determined.

“Remus, I’m trying, ok? Just...I have cookies?” He shook the box hopefully, making the cookies rattle inside.

Remus took a deep breath, thinking it over as he stared at Sirius. He heaved a sigh when he reached a conclusion, his chest deflating as some of the anger left his body. "Fine."

He gestured for Sirius to take a seat while he went over to place the half-opened package in another room. Sirius opened the box of cookies and left it on the coffee table before sitting down on the couch, tapping his fingers over his legs as he waited.

The couch was probably big enough for three people, but when Remus walked over, he eyed the free spot next to Sirius and sat on the floor in front of the table instead.

Well, their thighs were definitely not touching this time.

The air was so tense as Remus started up the game, that Sirius thought it would snap and hit them both in the face.

Cocoa padded over and jumped onto the sofa, placing his head on Sirius' lap.

"Traitor," Remus muttered, making Sirius snort despite the heavy atmosphere. From where he was sitting, Sirius could only see his profile, but he was sure he saw the man throw a sideway glance at him and purse his lips. He reached over to grab a cookie, biting into it with extra force, and he instantly pulled a face. "These cookies suck."

Sirius was surprised by such a blatant answer. He leaned forward on his elbows, placing his chin on his hands to try and hide the blush he could feel creeping up his neck.

"They can't be that bad." He snatched one from the box, propping it in his mouth under Remus' attentive eyes, and instantly started coughing. "Oh my god."

"Where the hell did you buy them?"

"How did they turn out so bad?!"

"Wait…" Remus turned to look at him fully, his lips pressed in a thin line to suppress a smile, "did you make these?"

"No," Sirius replied instantly.

"Oh God, you did!"

"Très bien, je les ai faits! I'm sorry I offended you with my awful cooking skills, I just wanted to give you the neighbourly welcome I owed you, d'accord?"

"What are you, 60? Minnie from the floor below made biscuits for me when I moved in."

Sirius sputtered, placing a hand over his heart, "what?! She never made cookies for me!"

“It’s not a competition, jeez.”

“But I wanted cookies,” Sirius pouted.

“You can have these,” Remus deadpanned as he flicked the box.

“Ugh, stop that. That’s the last time I try doing something nice for you,” he grumbled. Remus looked stunned for a second before he turned away.

It was quiet while each of them chose their team and started playing. They were a lot more relaxed in their game than they'd been last time, although that didn't mean they weren't giving it their best.

After a while of being absolutely silent, Sirius sighed. He felt Remus throw a quick side glance at him before looking back at the front.

"I owe you another apology."

The sound of the buttons being pressed and the low noises from the TV were the only things that could be heard as they both stared stubbornly at the screen.

"What for?"

"I've been an ass."

"Yeah, you have."

Sirius chuckled once, "yeah, I have," he said softly. He ran a hand through his hair, checking the score. He was winning, but he didn't really care this time around. "My family...they don't approve of my line of work. I'm not trying to make excuses for my behavior or anything, I just...I was having a really rough time that day." Remus raised an eyebrow at the TV, making Sirius laugh again, "and the days after that too. Damn, my friends had to check up on me every day to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid.” He glanced down nervously, afraid that he’d said too much, but Remus was still staring at the tiny players. “I just needed to get out of the flat as fast as possible. I wanted to apologise afterwards, but I didn't even know it was you. Bottom line is, I am on edge whenever they get involved in my life, and I act stupidly, and I am sorry you got caught up in that. I promise I am working on it."

Remus was silent for a few minutes, mulling something over in his head.

"Hospital," he whispered finally.

"What?"

"I was in the hospital when my mum gave me that." He hesitated before saying more. Sirius wanted to see what expression he was making. "I was stuck there for a long time, alone, and that painting was the only thing that kept me from feeling trapped. It helped me calm down."

Sirius’ heart gave a painful tug at the desolation in Remus’ voice. He had no idea how they’d gotten into this heart-to-heart moment, but his hand instinctively left the controller as he bent down to place it on top of Remus’, giving it a light squeeze.

Remus was startled, finally turning to look at Sirius. The sounds from the game kept ringing in the background, but none of them were looking at it anymore.

“I really am sorry,” he said, gazing intently at him. Remus’ eyes were the richest shade of gold he’d ever seen, glowing warmly, and Sirius was sure that he could light up even the darkest corners of his being. How had he not noticed this before?

The room went a bit colder when those eyes left his to glance at their hands.

“Are you ok?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah, I just-” Remus removed his hand to rub at his neck. “I have things to do. You should go.”

It was clearly a lie, and Sirius knew not to push it.

As he made his way back to his own flat, he had no idea if he’d fixed anything or if he’d just made everything worse.

[knuffled]

Just Practice - Chapter 15

this is the most important chapter in the story so far since chapter seven, so i hope you enjoy this! if you could drop a comment and/or reblog to support all the hard work, it would mean a lot to me! 

here’s the ao3 link

The first thing that greeted Annabeth when she stepped out of her car was the sound of crashing waves and the smell of sea salt carried on a gentle breeze. She leaned against the side of her car and drank in the view of the ocean, relishing in the way the wind tousled her hair. The beach was packed with families and college students on spring break, and for good reason. It was late March, and the weather was absolutely perfect outside. The sand was pleasantly warm between her toes, and seagulls cawed overhead in a clear blue sky.

Coming to the beach for spring break had been Rachel’s idea. Her father owned a villa not far from the shore, and she had offered to let them all stay there overnight. It was exactly what Annabeth needed after the past month and a half. After Percy’s victory at state, Annabeth had been absolutely swamped with school work. Nearly every week there was some new project deadline, essay to turn in, or exam to study for, and by the time finals rolled around, Annabeth found herself running on fumes. She hadn’t realized how bad it was until she came home after her final exam and promptly passed the fuck out in her room only to wake up the following afternoon, seventeen hours later.

Annabeth gave herself some time to just stand barefoot in the sand until Piper texted her, informing her that she and Jason were setting up camp further down the beach where it was more secluded. Taking that as her cue to move, Annabeth leisurely made her way down the beach and found Piper and Jason a few minutes later, trying to set up a beach umbrella. The umbrella was an ancient red and white striped monstrosity that looked like it had seen better days. Annabeth watched her friends struggle for a while, amused by how frustrated they were getting when the base of the umbrella slipped in the sand, until Piper noticed her and scowled.

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch or do you plan on helping out?” Piper huffed.

“But you were doing oh so well without me,” Annabeth said innocently. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way or anything.”

Jason put a hand on Piper’s shoulder before she could snap and offered Annabeth a tired smile. “We could really use your help, Annabeth.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Piper muttered something foul under her breath, but Annabeth couldn’t help grinning anyways before she went to help Jason. It took longer than she would have liked, but eventually the three of them managed to get the umbrella to stay in place, just as Hazel, Frank, and Leo arrived.

Leo pointed at the umbrella and said, “That thing looks like it came straight out of the fifties.”

“Shut it, Valdez,” Piper snapped. “We just spent nearly twenty minutes trying to get that fucker to stay still.”

Leo held his palms up in surrender. “Ok, apologies. Looks like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I get it. It’s cool.”

“That wasn’t an invitation to keep talking,” Piper warned.

Leo pantomimed zipping his lips, making Annabeth grin. Rolling her eyes, Hazel unzipped her backpack and handed each of them a bottle of homemade lemonade.

“Hopefully, it’s still cold and all the ice didn’t melt,” Hazel said.

Piper took a sip and moaned, “Hazel, you’re a goddamn lifesaver.”

“Don’t make noises like that in public,” Annabeth quipped.

Although she wanted to glare at Annabeth, Piper spotted Rachel and Percy further down the beach and called out to them instead. Annabeth’s heart suddenly began pounding harder in her chest, and she found herself involuntarily searching for him over her shoulder. They had barely talked or even seen each other since State, so she had expected to be more excited to see him, but she found herself strangely nervous instead. The nervousness only grew worse for some reason when Percy noticed her and sent her a warm smile.

“Sorry we’re late,” Percy said. “Rache forgot something so we had to drive back to her place.”

“Let’s not sweat the details,” Rachel said, waving her hand dismissively. “Now, I don’t know about you all, but I am dying to get into the water. Anyone know where the changing rooms are?”

“I saw some on the way here,” Hazel said. “Annabeth, did you want to join us?”

Annabeth cleared her throat and shook her head. “Uh, no, I’m wearing my swimsuit under my clothes already.”

With that, Hazel nodded and left with Rachel for the changing rooms. The boys went down to the water, but Percy stayed behind since he had brought some beach towels with him. He spread them beneath the umbrella so they wouldn’t have to sit on the sand. Piper left a short while later once she was done applying some sunscreen, leaving Annabeth and Percy alone. Annabeth borrowed Piper’s sunscreen as an excuse to leave after Percy did, but he plopped down beside her with a sigh instead.

Annabeth couldn’t help sneaking a quick sidelong glance at him. He looked good, really good. His unzipped black sweatshirt billowed in the breeze and stood in sharp contrast to the white shirt he wore underneath. There was a relaxed, easy smile on his face, and his sun-kissed skin made him look positively radiant.

“Hey, stranger,” Percy said, derailing her thoughts. “Haven’t seen you in a hot minute.”

Annabeth tucked her hair behind her reddening ears and said, “Y-Yeah, not since State, I think.”

“Glad to see you’re still in one piece,” Percy said.

Annabeth breathed a laugh. “Not entirely sure about that.”

Percy cocked his head to the side and studied her. “You do look a little worse for the wear.”

“Rude.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. “I distinctly remember warning you not to take three AP courses your senior year, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”

Annabeth scowled and said, “You don’t have to sound so smug about it.”

Percy laughed and leaned back on his elbows. “And what would be the fun in that? It’s not every day that you get to tell Annabeth Chase that you told her so.”

“Someone sure sounds awfully pleased with himself.”

“Oh, believe me, I am,” Percy said, grinning. “But I do suppose I can cut you some slack. You know, considering how we’re at the beach and all.”

“How magnanimous of you,” Annabeth deadpanned.

Percy made a show of clapping mildly. “Oh, well done. That sounded like an SAT word.”

Annabeth barked a laugh despite herself and shoved him, but that only made his grin widen. She was relieved to feel the awkwardness dissipating between them, but her respite was short lived because Percy suddenly removed his shirt and tossed it on the towel beside her.

“W-What are you doing? Why are you taking off your clothes?” Annabeth stammered, unable to hide the panic in her voice.

Percy looked at her like she had sprouted a second head. “It’s kind of hard to go swimming when you still have your clothes on.”

Annabeth looked away to hide the fact that her face was turning pink. “I know that! But can’t you go change in the changing rooms?”

Percy blinked in surprise and said, “Oh, sorry. You’ve seen me do this like a hundred times, so I didn’t think that you’d mind.”

He was right. She had seen him shirtless more times than she could count, so why was she suddenly being so weird about it? She needed to get a fucking grip. And yet, it was everything she could do not to stare shamelessly at him. Christ, at this proximity, the scent of his cologne was inescapable, and it only served to make her feel even more flustered.

“Annabeth, are you okay? You’ve been acting really strange,” Percy said.

“I-I’m fine,” Annabeth squeaked. “Just tired.”

“Alright, try not to push yourself,” Percy said, standing up. “I’m gonna head down to the water now. Let me know if you need anything.”

Annabeth nodded, still refusing to look at him. It was only after he was gone that she stopped holding her breath. She screwed her eyes shut and buried her face in her hands. What the fuck was she doing? Why was she acting so weird? All her feelings seemed to contradict one another. She felt a bizarre mix of exhilaration and anxiety, like thousands of butterflies fluttering about in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes were drawn to Percy even though she couldn’t bear to look at him. There was definitely something wrong with her.

Annabeth took a deep breath and forced herself to stand up and head down to the water. For now, she resolved herself to just make the most of her time at the beach instead of wallowing in her own awkwardness. Nevertheless, she did make a point of avoiding where Percy was to give herself a breather. However, in her momentary lapse of concentration, Piper snuck up on her and tackled her into the sea, sending salt water rushing up her nose.

She surfaced sputtering and discombobulated only to find Piper laughing uproariously behind her. Annabeth chased after her in a murderous rage, but Piper quickly retreated to the sea and put some distance between them. Piper had always been the better swimmer, so it took a few minutes before Annabeth finally caught her, but once she did, Annabeth dunked her underwater for a full minute as payback.

Eventually, Rachel and Hazel returned from the changing rooms and joined them in the water as well. They all splashed around together for a few hours under the midday sun, and Annabeth forgot all about how awkward she felt around Percy.

They broke for lunch after that and settled on a shack that sold burgers further up the beach. Unfortunately, the only vegetarian option on the menu was fries, so Piper had to drive herself to a nearby Taco Bell. Annabeth couldn’t help feeling sorry for her when Piper returned twenty minutes later, absolutely livid, because the rest of them had already finished eating.

“I can’t fucking believe there are still restaurants in this day and age that don’t have vegetarian options,” Piper fumed.

“Remind me to buy some stuff for dinner tonight so you don’t have to do this again,” Rachel said, yawning.

“How far away is your villa again?” Frank asked.

“Just a fifteen minute drive or so,” Rachel said, finishing her salad. “We’ve got a firepit out back, so we can have a bonfire tonight! We can make smores and everything.”

“Dibs on lighting the bonfire,” Leo said quickly.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” Piper said vehemently.

“C’mon, I promise I’ll keep it under control this time, Pipes,” Leo pleaded.

“The last time you were in charge of the bonfire, you nearly burned my fucking house down,” Piper snapped.

“That was like three years ago!”

“It was at my birthday last June.”

“I’ll handle the fire, Leo,” Jason interrupted. “You can help me out if you’d like.”

Leo sank in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “You guys are no fun.”

“A bonfire sounds nice,” Frank said, ignoring him.

“Yeah, it’ll be chill,” Rachel said, nodding. “We’ll have a section of the beach all to ourselves. I think my dad probably has some alcohol stashed away somewhere in the house.”

“Percy, watch over us and make sure we don’t do anything stupid,” Piper said, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

Percy gave her a wary look. “I don’t recall volunteering to be a babysitter.”

“But you’re the only one here that doesn’t drink,” Piper protested. “Pretty please?”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Buttering me up isn’t going to work, you know.”

“Annabeth, help me convince your boyfriend,” Piper whined.

Annabeth paused mid-drink and looked between them. “Don’t look at me. I’m not the one that’ll get black-out drunk and try to like hunt for mermaids or something.”

That got a laugh out of everyone, much to Piper’s chagrin.

After they finished eating, they returned to their spot under the umbrella. Hazel and Frank went back to laze around in the water while Rachel and Leo decided to go build sandcastles on the beach. The rest of them sat under the umbrella and talked amongst themselves for a while, but eventually Jason left for the bathroom. Percy joined him because he said he had spotted a shop selling snow cones on the way here, leaving Annabeth alone with Piper.

Once they were out of earshot, Piper turned to Annabeth with a wolfish grin. “Lovin’ the swimsuit, babe.”

“This is hardly anything special,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes. She was just wearing a plain black two piece she’d found at Target the summer before.

Piper raised an eyebrow and said, “Percy certainly seemed to think it was. Boy couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Annabeth blinked in surprise. Piper had to be trolling her. Sure, she had felt his eyes on her a few times, but that didn’t mean anything.

“You’re obviously fucking with me.”

“I’m being serious,” Piper laughed. “You look hot, Annababe.”

Annabeth looked down at her swimsuit and felt her face heat up. She didn’t really think she was much to look at honestly. It wasn’t like she had low self-esteem or anything, but her body had always been more of an instrument to her than a source of beauty. If you asked her, the only things she really had going for her were her height and the slender, toned physique that she had built over years of running long distance. Beyond that, Annabeth thought she was rather plain.

“Thanks,” Annabeth mumbled.

“You’re welcome,” Piper said, stifling a yawn. “I wonder what’s taking him so long.”

Annabeth shielded her eyes from the sun and scanned the beach for Percy, but she didn’t see him anywhere. Instead of sitting around and getting stuck in her thoughts, Annabeth decided to take her mind off things and search for him instead.

She stood up and brushed the sand off her thighs and said, “I’m gonna go look for him.”

“Ok, stay safe,” Piper said. “I think I’m going to take a nap.”

Annabeth nodded and made her way back in the direction of the parking lot. Percy had said that the snow cone shop was on the other end, but he still should have gotten back by now. Maybe he was having trouble carrying all those snow cones by himself or perhaps the line was really long. She made it all the way to the shop without running into Percy, and she couldn’t see him standing in line either.

She scanned the surrounding area for him without much luck and almost gave up on her search when she spotted the familiar outline of his back. He was cradling a carton of snow cones in his arms and talking to two college aged girls. Annabeth took a step forward, trepidation filling her chest. She couldn’t make out the look on his face because his back was turned towards her, but she thought she caught a glimpse of a polite, confused smile on his face, like he wasn’t entirely sure why the girls were talking to him.

Annabeth balled her hands in fists at her sides and clenched her jaw. It was obvious by the way the girls laughed sycophantically and twirled their hair, practically thrusting their tits in his face, that they were hitting on him. What did the idiot think would happen if he was gonna waltz around the beach shirtless like that?

She had half a mind to go over and interrupt them, but for some reason she found herself rooted in place. Annabeth wasn’t sure why she disliked them so much, but the more she thought about it, the less reason she realized she had to interfere. Percy wasn’t actually her boyfriend after all. Besides, he was free to leave at any time, but he hadn’t which probably meant he wanted to be there. In any case, it was none of her business to step in.

And yet, she couldn’t force herself to simply turn on her heels and leave either.

But then one of the girls, a haughty looking redhead, started tugging on his forearm insistently. Percy made a small show of resistance, enough to show he wasn’t interested, but apparently they didn’t seem to pick up on that because the other girl decided to help her friend by tugging Percy’s other arm.

Annabeth moved without realizing what she was doing and pulled Percy against her chest. A possessive thrill rushed through her when the look of discomfort on his face gave way to relief once he saw her.

She positioned herself in front of Percy and glared at the girls. “What’s going on here?”

The redhead’s eyes flashed with irritation, but she forced herself to muster a saccharine smile. “Oh, we were just inviting him to come have some drinks with us.”

“Can’t you see he’s clearly uncomfortable?” Annabeth asked. “I’m guessing he even told you he doesn’t drink too.”

The girls exchanged looks with each other. “I mean, he was obviously joking about that.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe you just don’t know how to take no for an answer.”

The girls recoiled like they had been slapped across the face. Annabeth took the opportunity to whisper to Percy that they were leaving and led him away by the hand before the girls could react. The girls protested behind them, but the only thing Annabeth could focus on was the feeling of Percy’s hand in hers. Blood pounded in Annabeth’s ears, and something simmered in her veins like magma. It took her a while to realize that Percy was calling out for her to stop.

“Annabeth, slow down,” Percy said. “You’re hurting me.”

Annabeth dropped his wrist like she’d been burned and looked away. “Sorry.”

Percy set the snow cones down and rubbed his wrist. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sur-”

“I said I’m fine,” Annabeth snapped.

Her tone was harsh enough to prove she was lying, but she couldn’t help it. Something dark smoldered in the pit of her stomach, making her restless. She didn’t know what it was, but the sensation was intolerable and she wanted it to stop.

Percy put a hand on her shoulder and forced her to face him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Annabeth balled her hands into fists and stared at her feet. “I-I don’t know. I’m just- I don’t know, I feel really weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just hated it, seeing the way they were clinging on to you,” Annabeth said tightly. “Why didn’t you just leave? It was like you wanted them to fawn all over you.”

“I tried but they wouldn’t let me leave.”

Annabeth met his eyes for the first time. “If you really wanted to leave, they wouldn’t have been able to stop you.”

Percy blinked in surprise and furrowed his brow. “Are you- are you jealous?”

Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest, and her face began to prickle. “I-I don’t know. I just didn’t like it.”

Percy’s lips tugged upwards involuntarily in a smile, making Annabeth even angrier. “What’s so funny?”

Percy hid his smile behind his hand. “Oh, um, nothing. Sorry. I just wanted to say that you didn’t have anything to worry about. They were making me super uncomfortable.”

Annabeth pursed her lips and said, “I find that kind of hard to believe.”

“Annabeth, come on, you could tell that they were creeping the fuck out of me from a mile away,” Percy said exasperatedly.

That was enough to coax a smile out of her. “You mean you didn’t like getting eye fucked by total strangers?”

Percy gave her an incredulous look and said, “You know, having tried it, I can’t really say it’s for me.”

“Yeah?” Annabeth asked, grinning.

“Yes,” Percy said flatly. “Besides, I already have a lovely fake-girlfriend willing to save me when I’m a damsel in distress.”

Annabeth’s heart skipped a beat. “Sounds like a real catch.”

“Oh, she most definitely is.”

Annabeth knew that Percy had meant it as a joke, but it made her heart squeeze a little in her chest all the same. She turned away before her face turned red and fought the ridiculous urge to smile. Christ, she needed to get ahold of herself.

“You good?” Percy asked carefully.

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah.”

“We should get going then,” Percy said. “The snow cones are starting to melt.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Annabeth said, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t be rude to the guy that bought you a strawberry-rhubarb snow cone.”

“A thousand apologies, your majesty.”

Percy hummed happily to himself. “That’s more like it.”

:::

After sunset, they finally left the beach and made for Rachel’s villa. The villa was massive, easily twice the size of Annabeth��s house, and designed in a Spanish style. Annabeth took a moment to admire the terracotta tiled roof, and the large windows that allowed for a generous view of the Pacific. The villa had six separate bedrooms, which she personally found a bit excessive, but it proved to be for the best since there were eight of them. After Rachel took a room for herself, the rest of them drew straws to determine who would have a room to themselves, and Annabeth somehow managed to win.

Annabeth’s first course of action after dropping off her luggage was to shower. She didn’t like having to shower after spending so much time in the ocean since it made her skin all dry and wrinkly, but it was still a relief to finally wash off all the sand that had stuck to her all day. Unfortunately, Annabeth had been forced to pack in a hurry, so she could only change into what she worn earlier that morning. She had only brought a single change of clothes with her and that was for tomorrow.

She took some time to admire her room while she towel-dried her hair. It wasn’t particularly large, but it was tastefully decorated. A large queen bed sat in the center of the room, flanked by a small cherry wood drawer. Sheer linen curtains framed a tall window that looked out over the ocean. Annabeth leaned against the open window sill and drank in the view of the Pacific. The full moon hung directly overhead and cast its pale, diffused reflection onto the dark water below.

Just as she finished drying her hair, there was a knock at her door. Percy peered into her room, fiddling with the zipper on his sweatshirt.

“Hey, ready to go? I think Jason and Leo are getting the fire started.”

Annabeth set her towel aside and nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The bonfire was nearly fully lit by the time they arrived. Jason sat atop one of the four logs circling the pit and kept a watchful eye on the flames. Off to the side, Frank was helping Leo dump some charcoal into the mouth of an expensive looking barbeque grill. Rachel and Hazel chatted to themselves and cut meat and vegetables at the outdoor kitchen countertop. Piper was the only one that appeared to be missing.

Percy noticed that Frank and Leo were having trouble and went over to help them with the grill, leaving Annabeth alone. She didn’t want to be the only one twiddling her thumbs so she figured she would go and help Rachel and Hazel.

“Need any help?” Annabeth asked them.

Hazel shook her head. “No thanks. We are pretty much done here, but we appreciate the offer.”

“Besides, not sure how much I trust you in the kitchen with a knife,” Rachel teased.

“I’m not completely hopeless. I made Percy chicken soup when he got sick, and he said it was pretty good,” Annabeth protested.

Rachel laughed and said, “You could literally make Percy drink poison, and he’d tell you it was delicious if you were the one that made it.”

Blood rushed to Annabeth’s face, making Rachel laugh even harder. She patted Annabeth’s shoulder benevolently and said, “Trust me. It’s for your own good, Chase.”

Annabeth shrugged her off and sat on one of the logs with a scowl. “Where’s Piper?”

“Rachel forgot to get her ingredients, so she had to go buy herself dinner again, the poor girl,” Hazel said.

Rachel looked repentant enough for Annabeth to feel sorry for her, so Annabeth tried to comfort her by saying, “She’s probably more than happy to have Taco Bell twice in one day.”

Annabeth started when someone swatted the back of her head. She turned and looked up with a frown to see Piper standing behind her, holding a burrito.

“Heard that, asshole.”

“You’re literally eating a burrito right now,” Annabeth muttered.

Piper’s face turned pink. “It’s from Chipotle! You can tell by the size!”

“Wow, someone’s getting adventurous,” Annabeth deadpanned.

Piper sat down at the log across from her, beside Jason, and narrowed her eyes. “Bite me.”

Annabeth was interrupted by Leo before she could respond. He skipped over to them with a manic grin and said, “We finally got the grill working!”

“You’re not gonna accidentally blow us up or anything right?” Piper asked dubiously.

“Pipes, charcoal can’t explode,” Leo said flatly. “I know you’re a vegetarian and all, but that’s literally second grade science class.”

“You can never be too sure when it comes to you,” Piper sniffed.

Leo rolled his eyes and waltzed over to Hazel and Rachel. “Looks like you’re almost done! I’ll start taking things over to the grill to get started.”

“Frank, make sure you keep an eye on him!” Hazel shouted when Leo took a plateful of meat and vegetables with him.

Rachel declared to the group that she would go find where her father had stashed his alcohol and returned a short while later with an assortment of liquor and a tray full of glasses. They all poured themselves drinks, apart from Percy, and sat around the fire.

Annabeth had helped herself to some fancy looking bourbon, mainly because she had never tried it before. Her first sip made her throat burn and forced her to cough. Percy gave her a worried look, but she ignored him and took another sip. Once she got over how strong it was, she had to admit that the bourbon was really good. It didn’t take long for that familiar warmth to spread through her body and soften the harsh edges of the world around her.

It took some time for the food to arrive, but it was well worth the wait. Frank had found an array of spices in the kitchen pantry to season the meat with, so even the smell was incredible. After an exhausting day at the beach, they all practically inhaled their food. Piper finished her food first since she had a head start and set up a smores station for dessert. It wasn’t long before they were fighting for spots to roast their marshmallows on the fire.

Later, Rachel disappeared inside the villa and returned with an acoustic guitar. She strummed a few chords and started singing softly, the sound of waves and the crackling fire providing an ambient backdrop. At first, she sang on her own and they were content to listen, but as they got more drunk and uninhibited, they would join in whenever she played a tune they recognized. Barring Frank and Piper, the rest of them were practically tone-deaf, so it sounded so bad that it would send them all into fits of laughter.

It was at times like this that Annabeth was struck by just how lucky she was to have such good friends. She didn’t have many good things in her life, but this was one of them and it wouldn’t last forever. There was no telling where they would all be in a years time or if they would ever be this close again, but that didn’t make her feel sad. Instead, an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude surged through her veins, compelling her to drink in every moment and seat it into her memory so that she would never forget.

But through it all, Annabeth found her eyes drawn to the boy sitting beside her the most. She unconsciously pulled herself closer to Percy over the course of the night and luxuriated in the way their elbows knocked together, a reminder that he was there. Annabeth would catch herself staring at him and the way the flames lit up his laughing face, making him all look every bit as invincible as she felt. At some point, she caught his hand and tangled his fingers between her own, and when he squeezed her hand, she smiled so hard it hurt.

As the night wore on, more of them left, unable to stay awake any longer, until eventually Percy and Annabeth were the only one remaining. The quietness was welcome change after all the noise they had been making, but it was hard not to fall asleep the sound of the rolling waves. Annabeth struggled to keep her drooping eyes open, but Percy looked perfectly fine, probably because he was the only one who hadn’t drank.

“You should go get some sleep,” Percy murmured. “Look like you’re gonna pass out.”

Annabeth hummed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Don’t want to.”

“If you’re expecting me to carry you, you’re going to be sorely mistaken,” Percy said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re too heavy.”

If she had the energy, Annabeth would have scowled. “Rude.”

Percy grinned and looked out over the ocean with a pensive, almost melancholy look. Annabeth poked his cheek with her finger to get him to look at her.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Percy said. “About everything, I guess.”

“Hmm, deep.”

Percy laughed and said, “Alright, smarty pants, I was thinking about the future and my friends and you.”

“Then why do you look so sad?” Annabeth asked, sitting up straighter.

Percy blinked in surprise and said, “I look sad?”

Annabeth nodded and pressed a finger to his brow. “You’re giving yourself wrinkles, like you always do when you’re upset.”

There was a pause before Percy said, “Remember earlier when you saved me from those college girls?”

“What about it?”

Percy stared up at the sky and smiled bitterly. “I never imagined you would ever get jealous over me.”

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but Annabeth found herself saying, “Neither did I.”

Percy turned to her with wide eyes, making her frown. “What?”

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting you to answer seriously.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes and nudged him affectionately. “I’m taking this seriously because you are.”

Percy smiled softly and said, “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, you dork,” Annabeth said fondly. “Honestly, since when did you become the serious, responsible out of the two of us. What ever happened to the kid that caught frogs during recess and put worms in Nancy Bobofit’s locker?”

Percy laughed and said, “Well, one of us had to grow up, so I figured it might as well be me.”

Annabeth half-heartedly jabbed him with her elbow. “Jerk.”

“You’ve grown up a lot too,” Percy said. “You just don’t realize it.”

“Yeah, how so?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ve learned to temper yourself. When you were younger, it was like fire ran through your veins. You acted like the world and everything were promised to you, not out of some sense of arrogance, but like it was your birthright. I remember how you used to argue with the teachers and stuff in front of the whole class because it never occurred to you that there were people you shouldn’t pick fights with. I was always kind of in of awe of how stupidly brave you were. I still am,” Percy said, softly.

A lump formed in Annabeth’s throat. Percy was right, about everything, but that wasn’t what was getting to her. It was the fact that his words were a testament to the fact that he had been there with her since the beginning. He had seen her as a bossy, bratty little seven year old and had stuck by her side all the way till now.

“We have been through a lot together, haven’t we?” Annabeth asked thickly.

The tender look in Percy’s eyes made her heart squeeze a little in her chest. “Yeah, we have.”

Annabeth screwed her eyes shut, unable to look at him. She didn’t want this to end, but the moment was beginning to get too much for her, so she stood up suddenly.

“Alright, enough with all the sappiness,” Annabeth said. “Race you to the beach?”

Without waiting for him to respond, Annabeth took off for the water’s edge, running as hard as she could. Percy started a moment later, humoring her like always, and quickly made up the distance. If it wasn’t for the sand and the fact that she was super drunk, Annabeth would have won, but it wasn’t long before Percy caught up to her and slung her over his shoulder. Annabeth shrieked and pounded on his back.

“You better not dump me in the water, you asshole!” Annabeth yelled.

Percy ignored her and sped towards the water, making her fear for the worst. She braced herself for impact, but it never came. Instead, he set her down onto dry sand and grinned down at her. Annabeth scowled and stood up, dusting the sand off her shorts, watching as he rolled up his shorts and waded further into the water. The encroaching tide was cold enough to make her jump when it tickled her toes, but Percy seemed perfectly fine going knee deep into it.

The moonlight streamed down on him, illuminating half his face with its pale glow. Wind rustled his hair and billowed through his clothes as he stared out at the horizon. Under the moonlight, he seemed to age backwards and actually look his eighteen years - the hard lines of worry on his brow smoothened, and the tightness and frustration in his jaws released. There was something about his pale figure standing in the inky sea that made him look so beautiful and true that it made it hard for her to breathe. It reminded her of how Piper had said she had fallen for Jason, how he had seemed to glow, and she couldn’t help feeling like she understood exactly what Piper had meant.

Percy noticed her looking and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Annabeth balled her hands into fists at her side. She wasn’t ready to say it. Not yet. “N-Nothing.”

Percy didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged all the same. Annabeth stared down at her feet so that she wouldn’t be forced to look at him, but her heart pounded in her chest urgently. She started when Percy draped his sweatshirt over her shoulders and stepped past her. It was warm, and it smelled like him.

“I’m gonna head inside,” Percy said softly. “Don’t stay out for too long, okay?”

Annabeth nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Percy lingered there for a moment longer before leaving. Annabeth waited till she heard him enter the villa before she collapsed down on the sand and hugged her knees to her chest. An explanation for her actions and feelings today were finally starting to dawn on her, which sent equal parts terror and exhilaration coursing through her as she stared up at the moon. Her inability to look at him conflicting with her desire never to leave him, the nervousness and exhilaration, the jealousy - all of it pointed to one thing. She was just having a hard time accepting it.

Whenever Annabeth had imagined falling in love, she had expected it to strike her like a bolt of lightning, illuminating her with a sudden, arresting, all-consuming knowledge.

She hadn’t ever imagined that it would be like this: soft and gentle, like an unfolding discovery, the way the petals unfurled when a flower bloomed. And yet, just as sure, just as certain.

Annabeth buried her face in her hands. Try as she might, she couldn’t deny it any longer.

Fuck.

She was in love with him, wasn’t she? She was in love with Percy Jackson.

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.4

WARNING OF DEPICTION OF A PANIC ATTACK and mentions of drugging. 

////////

The rest of the day went by pretty uneventfully. That is after Nate lectured you about stranger danger and how you couldn't just walk forty miles in two hours. You really have no clue how you messed up the math that bad or how calling Nate for a ride never crossed your mind. Nate made you promise not to get into another stranger's car, especially without knowing their fucking names.

“I mean seriously YN, you just hopped in their car because they had a dog?! That's literally the first thing they tell you not to do when you learn about stranger danger!” he said munching on a boston cream donut. It was a good thing you'd brought donuts because you caused this man to stress eat...or was that a bad thing?

After you agreed to having better stranger danger instincts, Nate told you things would be run a little differently around the shop. Apparently the camera out back had died on Sunday, which although weird could be explained away as a camera that hasn't been updated or switched out since the shop was opened, maybe even before then too. So unfortunately Big Jo and Nate still didn't know who broke into your car or if they had been looking for anything. But Big Jo still wants to take precautions like the two of you leaving together and in the morning one of you waiting in their car with the doors locked for the other to come and then entering the building together.

Nate also mentioned a few other things, shipping and inventory related, that wouldn't really pertain to you or change any of your current tasks. It's really just to limit the amount of people coming through the back room. The back room was the emptiest you've ever seen when you went to check on your deer skull. You wonder if you hadn't been hired who would've gotten this position and how long they'd be able to keep their mouth shut about the obviously illegal activity going on. But you remember the person who had this position before you had been Bambi, a sweet if not oblivious girl. So, had you not come along the Cowells would have probably found someone else who didn't have an ounce of perception for their surroundings.

The week goes by slowly and with no further incidents. The deer skull has been completed and you plan on taking it to Maddie's Workshop next week to get a mount for it. In the time that you were bleaching and polishing the bones Nate took it upon himself to clean around the shop. Even though he's made it clear you just have to do your task list here, which takes about an hour maybe two depending on the tasks, he's always working on something.

Nate's the type of guy who's never content to just chill he needs to keep moving always chasing that high you get from accomplishing a goal, whatever he's made his that day. He's probably just substituting whatever he did daily with these new deep cleans of his.

Even with the lack of incidents following your car's break in the two of you have kept to the new precautions. Nate even going so far as to remind you tonight that on Monday if you arrive before him you'll need to stay in the car. At this point you think it's less about safety and more about the security of the store's extra curricular activities. Either way you don't really mind.

Things seemed to return to normal, you were back to driving yesterday and after you rearranged furniture in your house you felt a little less on edge. And every night this week you'd been able to get a good night's sleep, which although not too strange did stand out to you. Maybe another thing that had kept you on edge this week, because it meant when you saw a shadow pass by you during the day you couldn't write it off as quickly as you normally would.

But tonight it seemed your luck had run out. You sat on your bed with your sketch book in hand just doodling strange squiggles till your eyes were so tired they couldn't focus. Putting the book down to rest your eyes and crack your wrist, you sigh not feeling tired at all. The thought of a hike isn't really appealing right now, plus if you made a run into the mini mart you'd probably see either Ronnie or even Tim working behind the counter, that thought set your ears a flame. While the night life in Kepler was decent especially for a Friday night in summer, you just felt the need to be alone.

A drive was the best answer you had. You'd just choose a random lane on the interstate and take a random exit till you found a diner or something, order a tea and a slice of pie. Like you were a background character in someone else's story longingly staring out the window as your dreams slowly slipped through your fingers in this cold cruel world. Ok, you'd been joking about that because you saw a TikTok saying that, but your melodramatic ass actually thinks that sounds fun.

Throwing on some jeans and a flannel over you muscle tee, you were out the door. When you were checking the lock you'd heard rustling coming from around the house where your bins were. Worse case it's a stalker, best case just some raccoons. Either way you decided to calmly but briskly walk to your car, locking the doors immediately. Once in you drove around the side of your house, luckily, you assume, you spot the chonkiest raccoon you've ever seen digging through the bins. His tiny little person hands drawing an awww from you even though his demonic gleaming eyes should send a chill down your spine.

Hissing at the car Chonk returns to dig through your garbage. Weird how he only comes on your pizza weeks. Probably has a thing for Leo's homemade pizzas. You sure as hell do, as much as you love it you do save a slice for this little guy. You haven't put it out yet though, eh you'll do it tomorrow.

Having solved that mystery you sit in your car and link up your phone so you can have your driving playlist. It's mainly Folk Punk and Sea Shanties and while most might say it's a weird combination you say it's the same genre just different fonts. You could drive hundreds of miles into the middle of no where listening to this playlist and you'd be just fine...maybe have an emotional break down or two but expressing your emotions is suppose to be good for you. Mouthing along to Jim Bogart as it comes through the stereo you set off on your little excursion.

Just like when you have the urge to hike at night the urge to drive is nearly one in the same. Momentum taking you forward and not looking back as you do, needing to just go forward with no real destination in mind. Tonight however would be a little different you'd stop at the first diner you see that's out of Kepler bounds. Or turn right back around at one in case you hadn't found anything. There've been times that you kept driving straight through morning and didn't know where the hell you ended up. Not to mention you rarely remember the ways to get back after going for so long, and gps can only get you so far in some of the towns that also border the Monongahela Forest. You'd just have to rely on dumb luck tonight.

Unlike hiking, which gives you a burst of adrenaline as you push your body to its limits to move as far as you can and as much as you can. Driving gives a much more relaxed feeling, it's a feeling a weightlessness that gets lighter and lighter the further you get from home. Some may describe that feeling as a wanderlust or nomadic calling, but you've never cared for either of those things. You've only ever wanted to stay in one place for as long as you could remember. Moving around so much in your youth really messed you up, and you promised yourself this would be the last time you uprooted your life. And you've really come to love Kepler in these past few months. You can't imagine how you'll feel next year after getting to know the community more, but so far it's been really compassionate and understanding, a few rocky spots here and there but nothing like your hometown.

Without realizing it you've picked up your speed, you're doing 75 in a 55 zone. Even with no other vehicles around you slow down to just above the speed limit. While there might not be any cops around looking for easy tickets you don't want to risk dissociating at 75MPH or more. That could only end horribly. Though dissociating behind the wheel at all would be horrible. In the middle of shaking yourself from these thoughts you catch sight of an exit sign, which holds the logo for Denny's on it, and the exit is coming up in five miles. Switching lanes you cross over and get ready to hop off on the next exit.

You're pretty sure the only pie Denny's has is the dry apple with a scoop of ice cream. That isn't very appetizing to you, but then again you aren't really a fan of pie, a fact you seemed to gloss over when you made the decision to drive out here this late at night. Not too bothered by the fact, you remember Denny's has a salted caramel and banana pancake which should work in place of pie.

Pulling into the parking lot there are only three other cars, peering into the diner you don't really see anyone so the cars must belong to the skeleton night crew. Entering the Denny's you see there actually is one other patron, you only see the back of his head as he makes no move to look at the new arrival.

“Hun, seat yourself, I'll be out in a bit.” is the motherly voice that rings out from the kitchen, truly something you've only experienced in the south. Walking into a diner in the dead of night and  being treated like a daytime regular.

Seating yourself near the TV mounted to the wall you let the sounds of the soap opera playing drown out any buzzing you feel in your head. The waitress is out within minutes and though she startles at your masked face she regains her composure very quickly.

“I'd like the salted caramel pancakes if it's alright.” you say declining the offered menu.

“Just the pancakes?”

“Ah, yes please. And water's fine too.” it really pays to know the menu prior to coming in. Gives you ample time to run scripts over in your head.

Viv, the name on her name tag, nods and gives you a smile as she spins right round to the kitchen. Probably happy she won't have to run out so many times for just one order or maybe to spend time with the cooks in the back. You remember working food service sucked but the line cooks made it so much better at the end of the day. Even if they said you were too quiet and called you 'mouse'.

It might not have been exactly what you set out to do but this little midnight self date was really nice, you should do this more often.

Pancakes finished and mask back on you waited for Viv to bring out your check,  then you notice the other patron also making his moves to leave. You're sat facing the door so when he turns and comes closer dread fills your veins like burning cold dry ice. It's David, a local from Kepler you briefly met when you first moved. He gave you really bad vibes and over all was just a very skeevy dude.

What made you feel worse about him was when he left town to “help his sister” right after Bambi disappeared. Those in your circle told you she always talked about leaving Kepler one day but you trusted your gut in saying she didn't leave by her own choice. It got made for her, and David leaving just furthered your theory. You look away hoping he hadn't noticed you but unfortunately you could hear his footsteps falter and then pick back up by passing the door completely.

“Hey...YN, right?” fuck he remembers you, alarm bells are ringing at this fact. Why would he remember someone he briefly met months ago?

“It really is you, still as quiet as I remember.” what did he mean the two of you only met a handful of times and that had been because of your mutual friendship with Bambi.

Where is Viv with the check? You'd really like if she saved you from this painful situation right now. But you aren't sure what's worse having to sit here and listen to David tell you everything he's been up to these past few months, like you even care. Or the thought of leaving with David having him follow you and maybe doing whatever he did to Bambi to you.

“Yea so my sister's better now, I should be seeing you around soon. We should catch up maybe do Saturday Night Dead. Does the Crypt still do that?” great a fucking rhetorical question, he knows the Cryptonomica still does it's weekly movie nights, it's only been two months he's been gone. Not to mention it's a big hit and a huge source of revenue for the shop.

You haven't said anything this whole time, fuck being polite to a potential killer, and fuck being polite to this creep. He's just been talking nearly nonstop for the last few minutes. He must really love the sound of his own voice or thinks he's the most charming person to ever grace the Earth with his presence. Since he's not really caring that you aren't proving to be a stimulating partner in this conversation. He really does love hearing himself talk. By the time he's said his own goodbyes Viv finally makes it out from the back.

She apologizes for the wait, had to go on her break sometime you supposed. You take your time finding your wallet, it's in your back pocket but you wanted to stall for time since you could still see David's car out there, you were also keeping an eye on your own car. Only relaxing when you saw him pull off from the corner of your eye. Oh look you've “found” your wallet,  handing Viv your credit card you just want to get out of here quickly now.

You pay and leave a nice tip for Viv, while she didn't save you from that creep it's not like she could've known. You sit in your car for a moment or two just breathing in and out in the glow of the diner lights. Almost meditating before you begin your long drive back to Kepler with all these thoughts of David, Bambi's disappearance, and how it can't be coincidence that David is coming back at the same time that you have a break in. Could you be his next target? Were you just over thinking things? Just blaming this poor guy because you didn't like him? But you've always been intuitive and bad vibes aren't something to ignore. David appearing now meant something.

Just that thought alone put you on edge as your skin begins to crawl. With a few calming breaths you go to start the car and sync your radio when you notice the glow of the lights changed from the slight yellow to a sterile blueish white. Looking up where the diner should be you see the mini mart back at Kepler...how on earth did you get here? You didn't drive! You couldn't have dissociated while driving, you never even turned the car on and you can barely take a hike dissociating let alone do something as complex as drive a car.

It happens before you can register it, on shaky legs that move on their own you are passing the threshold of the convenience store and catching the tail end of a conversation.

“ppened to not feeding into delus...” the voice cuts off as the door shuts behind you. You know that voice why is it so hard to focus?

Something warm brushes your hand and you see someone in front of you. Who is that? You can't see their face, they've got a mask covering their face. Like you but that person is not you. You might know them...Tobais?

“Yea? You good there?” confusion, you blink hard and see you are standing in the mini mart now, Connor standing under your hand, Toby hovering close by and both Brian and Tim watch with unease over by the register.

“...I don't know how I...how I got here.” you register movement in the background but not consciously.

It's the shifting of Brian's head as he looks out the front windows and spots your Kia.

“You drove.” shaking your head, “Maybe...I don't...I dissociated?” in your confusion you can register Toby stiffen in front of you.

Fear, fear, uneasy, breath....are you breathing? Your head's so jumbled right now.

You scan the shop trying to look for answers that may help you but you find none. The more confused you get the more worked up you get, chest rising and falling rapidly. You take a step back or try to and end up falling on your butt. It's starting to get hard to breathe with your throat constricting, you bring a hand up to your larynx.

“..re.....have..attack......”

        “could be o...me..”

“.....pressure...”

Is all you can make out with your fuzzy consciousness before a heavy pressure is piling on your chest and knocking you fully on your back. The pressure is actually pretty lifting as contradictory as it may seem. Instead of restricting your breathing more it seems to be kick starting your lungs to exhale and inhale. With oxygen coming back into your body you can feel your toes and the tingle behind them. You can feel your fingers and the fur under them. Fur?

Taking in a big breath you move your head and come face to muzzle with Connor.  You give a nod of recognition to the dog before lying flat again and staring up at the ceiling. After about ten minutes you're thinking more clearly than before, which isn't saying much.

“Thanks.” you aren't sure who it's directed at but you still mean it.

It's silent until Toby breaks it, “I'm taking you home.”

“Car.” it's all you can manage to say but the message though distorted got through.

“I'll drive it, Brian follow behind.” there is no room for arguing, driving under any influence must be a touchy subject for Toby. Or maybe you're really fucked up right now and just can't comprehend how bad.

You use Connor to get up, he seems ready and no one else makes a move to you. Toby pushes past and holds the door open as Connor guides you, still holding onto his vest with one hand, and Brian murmurs something to Tim before following you three.

Outside Toby already has your keys in his hand, when did he get those? Did you give them to him? Your hand is risen, you must of...how on earth did you even drive like this. Had you really driven? There's a lump in your throat again and you're breathing's gone shaky, god you hope you didn't hurt anyone. You must have been zoning out for too long, not only is Connor pushing your legs but Toby has a grasp on your forearm coaxing you forward.

His grip isn't suffocating, honestly even seeing it there you still don't feel it. Maybe it's because you're so numb, or maybe it's because he's genuinely helping you but you can't feel the pain that  usually comes with being touched. The sharp jab that feels like you've been struck with a fire poker where ever someone laid their hands on you. After he's pushed you into the backseat, more like nudged you, even making sure you didn't bump your head, he buckles you in then snaps and Connor jumps into the car and lays across your lap.

You're shaking, actually trembling as you look at Toby. What's going on? Why can't you figure out what's happening? The brunette doesn't say a thing as he gets into the driver's seat and buckles in to drive you home. That's strange you think, how does he know where to go? You told him right, just follow the road...or maybe he guessed from the other day. What happened to you? Why the mini mart? You were at Denny's.

“This town doesn't have a Denny's.” did you say that out loud?

“I...I went for a drive, a town over...up...no.. north I think...” you start blinking barely able to keep your eyes open before your eyes lock shut. It's sending you over the edge even more in your confusion.

“Hey, hey just focus on the Denny's. What'd you do once you got there?” is he trying to distract you? Calm you down? Or is he trying to piece together what happened like you are? You can remember Denny's just fine, the dull yellow glow of the inside the skeleton crew murmuring in the back, the pancakes you had, and the “conversation” with David. Did David do this, had he put something in your water glass? Did you even touch your water glass after he left? Breathe. You need to breathe. Toby's waiting.

“Pancakes...I had pancakes. Then that creep came over...and he started talking. Didn't like. We aren't friends, I don't know him. I don't understand why he'd talk to me. Didn't like. Didn't like.” finger back to pressing down on your larynx and the weight of Connor preventing your legs from striking out at the seat in front of you.

“Wait, were you drugged?” Eyes flash to the rear view to lock with your own teary stare.

“No, maybe...I don't think so.” you barely feel the pain in your throat right now, this is all so overwhelming. “He left, I...I watched him drive off before getting in my car... I had an episode while the car was off then..” then you were at the mini mart. You never touched the ignition.

“I didn't drive, I never started the car. Didn't, didn't, didn't” Your attack is probably stressing even Connor out now, but this is all so confusing.

You're so focused on the fuzzy events you don't notice Toby bristle. Or how he grips the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles grow white despite his already translucent skin. He might not be able to feel or see it in the mirror through his mask but he's probably gnawing off more of his face. He'd deal with it after he dealt with you.

You've made it to your house and he's waiting for the headlights from Brian. When he sees them in the rear view he gets out but not before telling you, or maybe Connor, to stay put.

It's a few long moments before he comes back. But in the silence and darkness of your car, growing colder by the moment, you start to ground yourself. You aren't calm by any means and you're still very unfocused. But you aren't crying as the numbness overtakes you, you don't even jump when the door beside you opens. With a snap Connor is out of the car and soon you're being pulled from the car, that same weightless touch gripping your forearm. Toby guides you into your own home, and walks towards the hallway looking into the bathroom, the only other door, before finding your room.

Seemingly understanding your catatonic state he sits you on the bed and gives some order to Connor before he leaves the room. And you just sit on the bed staring into dead air as a silent guard sits in wait. You aren't sure what he's waiting for or why he's still there but the numbness has taken over too much and you can't find it in you to give a single fuck.

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter fourteen

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn't expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rating: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

*

“A bit higher.” 

Beca pushed the small mountain-shaped shelf an inch higher, looking over her shoulder as she held it. “Like that?” 

Chloe nodded, smiling. “Perfect.” She walked over and handed Beca the drill, watching as she skillfully made a hole into the wall and inserted a dowel. “I didn’t know you were handy with tools.” 

Beca snickered. “Basic things only.” She twisted the screw in and hung the shelf, taking a few steps back to observe her work. “That looks cute.” 

Chloe glanced around the room, nodding as she absent-mindedly rubbed her belly. She had just reached thirty weeks, and Bean’s arrival was scarily close. The nursery was coming along nicely, the crib having just been delivered today, while the rest was pretty much done. 

The closet was full of onesies, tops, pants and a few dresses, swaddles, blankets, and loveys, and the dark oak changing table (matching the yet to be assembled crib) was stocked up with diapers, wipes, bodysuits, and a variety of creams and oils. 

Chloe had channeled her stress into reading as much as she could about newborns, what to do and not do, and while she had experience with babies from back when she was a teenager, she was relieved not to be doing this on her own.

“It does,” Chloe agreed, loving the subtle woodland theme she went for and all the love they poured into making this safe place for Bean. “It’s really cozy.” 

“Alright, now onto the big project,” Beca said, nodding towards the large package laying on the floor. “You’ll get to see how limited my knowledge of tools really is.” 

Chloe laughed and helped take the different parts of the cribs out of the box, then headed into the kitchen to get them some refreshments. 

The last six weeks had been really good. The Bellas welcoming her back with open arms had definitely helped with Chloe’s recovery, and her talk with Beca, that promise that she would wait for her to be ready filled Chloe with a renewed sense of self-worth and made her fall in love with Beca a little bit more. 

Chloe was now just over six months sober. The nagging for booze and snow sat somewhere at the back of the brain, and she doubted it would ever go away, but she was getting better at not listening to it. 

She stifled a laugh at the sight of Beca looking awfully perplexed by the instructions when she walked back into the room. “You good?” 

Beca chuckled. “Yeah. Just trying to make sense of this.” She glanced up to Chloe, accepting the glass of homemade lemonade with a smile and setting it beside her. 

“They sent us two baby monitors?” Chloe asked as she sat on the floor, noticing the two exact same boxes. They had ordered a bunch of stuff from the same website, and quite a few boxes had come with the crib while Chloe was at her NA meeting, and Beca had put everything in the nursery. “We only ordered one.” 

“No, um, I figured one more would be handy,” Beca said as she picked up one of the crib ends and two of the four legs, along with four bolts. “So I hear Bean when she cries at night, too.”

Chloe shook her head. “I can take care of nights. I don’t want your whole sleeping rhythm to be thrown off because of Bean, you’ve got work, too.” 

“I know, but I’m concerned the lack of sleep might mess up with your recovery if you handle it on your own. I’ve read some horror stories about some babies waking up every few hours and that for six months.” Her focus shifted from the crib assembling to Chloe. “I meant what I said when I told you you wouldn’t be on your own with this. But I don’t want to overstep either, so I want you to tell me if you need me to back up a little. I promise I won’t be upset.” 

Chloe’s heart swelled with more love. She didn’t know why she kept being surprised every time Beca showed her how dedicated to the both of them she was. Still, she felt a little guilty for disrupting Beca’s routine, but she knew Beca was right. 

“You’re not overstepping,” Chloe assured her, softly. “And I want you guys to bond, so I think you taking care of her without me might be a great way to do that.”

“Okay,” Beca murmured, smiling as she went back to her task at hand. “The label already knows I’m taking two months off once she’s born, so I’m around to help out. Maybe she’ll sleep through the night by the time I have to head back.” 

Chloe chuckled. “We can always dream.” She cleared her throat. “I was also thinking about Bean’s guardians, in case something happens to me, and I’d like for you to be one of them.” 

Beca paused mid-screwing in a bolt and met Chloe’s gaze. It was clear she was moved, and it made Chloe smile. “Of course. I’d be honored.” 

“Aubrey will be the other guardian, just so you know. So if I die, you’ll be seeing a lot more of her.” 

Beca’s nose wrinkled. “Is it too late to backtrack?” She asked with a soft laugh. Chloe knew she was just joking, as she and Aubrey got on really well, now. “I think Aubrey is a great pick. At least I know I won’t have to be the bad cop. But let’s hope she and I never have to be Bean’s guardians. I’m good with just being the cool aunt.”

The crib was easier to put together than they had originally thought. It only took Beca forty-five minutes, and once it was all done, Chloe grabbed the mattress and set it inside.

“It’s just missing one thing,” Beca said, casting Chloe a smile before she left the room, coming back a minute later. “Close your eyes.” 

Chloe did so, and it sounded like Beca was fumbling with something by the crib. 

“Okay, open them now.” 

Chloe let out a soft gasp at the sight of the animal mobile set up above the crib. A fox surrounded by mountains and clouds. “Beca…” 

“I wanted to get Bean a gift, and you mentioned an animal mobile, so I had this custom made with a friend of a friend.” 

“It’s perfect,” Chloe whispered, blinking back the tears pricking behind her eyes. She was used to crying over the smallest of things by now that she wasn’t embarrassed anymore. Wrapping an arm around Beca’s waist, she leaned her head over her shoulder, basking in the warmth and peace being in close proximity with Beca brought her. 

“I think so, too,” Beca murmured, her own arm coming up to wrap around Chloe’s back as she brushed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

*

Summer chilled to fall over the following week. Chloe was thankful for the cooler temperatures, as her body felt like a furnace on its own, she didn’t need any additional heat. Now thirty-one weeks, she had started to waddle, much to Beca’s amusement, it seemed, even if she only claimed to find it adorable. She also got winded after walking up a single flight of stairs and was insanely grateful for the elevator in Beca’s building. 

Hanging a left when it reached the right floor, Chloe headed down the hallway, pulling her keys out of her jacket pocket and sliding them into the lock. 

“SURPRISE!” 

Chloe jolted slightly, her hand shooting up to her chest in shock. Most of the Bellas stood in Beca’s decorated living-room, beaming at her. Above them hung a cute oh baby banner and a table was laid out with various snacks and a cake. 

“Oh my gosh, you guys!” She exclaimed as soon as she regained her composure, stepping further inside to hug each one of her friends tightly. “Did you do all this?” She asked when she got to Beca, awe leaking in her tone.

“Aubrey helped,” Beca said, nodding towards the blonde standing to her right. 

“Thank you,” Chloe murmured as she pulled away, embracing Aubrey next. It had taken some time for them to find their way back to how they used to be after so many years apart, and Chloe was so grateful Aubrey gave her a second chance. “Love you, Bree.” 

“Love you, too.” 

The afternoon was filled with fun activities such as onesie decorating, a Name that Tune game with songs that had the word baby in it, and a cupcake decorating contest. Towards the end of the day, Chloe was coaxed into opening the girls’ present, starting with the one Jessica set in her lap. 

“This is from all of us,” she said, smiling as Chloe peered into the bag. 

She fished the item out, her heart bursting in her chest as she unfolded the blue and gold onesie which bore the Barden Bella B. “Oh… I love it. Thank you.” 

The girls definitely spoiled Bean, gifting Chloe with a bunch of adorable onesies, animal stuffies, mittens, swaddles, a bear winter jumpsuit for those freezing days ahead of them, and an expensive-looking electric swing.

“This is too much,” she croaked out once she had unwrapped the large box, shaking her head in disbelief as the girls simply waved her concern off. 

“Oh, that’s from your parents,” Beca chimed in as Chloe reached for the second-to-last present. 

Tears pooled in her eyes (she had honestly lost track of how many times she’d cried in the last couple of hours) as she took the familiar item out of the bag. “It’s my baby blanket,” she told the girls as she unfolded the mustard blanket her mom had knitted while she was pregnant with her. She traced the name she had picked for her baby girl, which her mom had added in white lettering in a corner. Chloe smiled as she brought it to her nose; it smelled like home. 

The last gift was a pampering kit for Chloe, as well as a few items she would need for after labor. 

“I learned some stuff about childbirth that I wish I’d never known while looking for items to add to this,” Amy said with a grimace, drawing a giggle from Chloe. “I didn’t know things could tear like that down below.” 

Chloe winced along with the rest of the Bellas, her chuckle coming out strained. “Thanks, Amy.” 

Beca ordered pizzas for everyone, and the girls stuck around until nine pm, helping to clean up the living-room before they left. Chloe changed into her pajamas and made herself some herbal tea for her and Beca, joining her on the couch. 

“You okay?” Beca asked as she took one of the mugs from Chloe. 

“Yeah,” Chloe breathed out, curling up on the opposite end of the couch. “Thank you for today. It was so nice to see the girls again. I’m really lucky.” 

“You’re welcome, Chlo.” She motioned towards her lap. “C’mon, hand me those feet.” 

Chloe giggled, setting her feet on Beca’s thighs and biting back a moan as she started kneading the sole of her right foot. It had become a sort of a ritual these past few weeks, for Beca to give Chloe a foot rub while they chilled on the couch after dinner. “Am I going to lose those privileges once I’m no longer pregnant?” She teased. 

Beca smirked. “We’ll see.”

“I heard back from my old vet school, this morning,” Chloe said, following a few minutes of comfortable silence. She had been communicating back and forth with the advisor over there, who finally heard back from the head of the department. “Since I did two years of vet school already, I’d only have to do one more year to become a vet tech. They offered for me to jump into the school year in January, but that feels a little too soon after Bean gets here, so I think I’ll wait until September next year,” she explained as she rubbed her bump. “But I definitely plan on getting a part-time job waitressing or something by next spring, as soon as Bean is old enough go to daycare.” 

Finding a good daycare with availability had been a headache, but Chloe had luckily found a spot at the one she had set her eyes on in the neighborhood. 

“That’s great news,” Beca mused aloud, smiling. “I’m proud of you.” 

“I wouldn’t be where I am without you, Bec,” Chloe murmured, returning her smile. A groan flitted past her lips a second later. “Ugh, I need to pee again.” 

Beca chuckled as Chloe heaved herself to her feet and waddled to the bathroom. She had just shut the door behind her when a sharp pain in her lower belly made her double over, her hand shooting out to grip the counter while the other one cradled her bump. 

Panic gripped her insides as she slowly straightened when her head stopped spinning, letting go of her stomach to dip her hand past the waistband of her sweatpants. Her fingers met something warm and sticky, and Chloe’s heart lurched to her throat when she pulled them out, eyes zeroing on the blood. 

“No, no, no,” she muttered to herself, forcing down the lump forming in her throat with a hard swallow. She called Beca’s name, her voice wavering as tears rose to her eyes. 

“What’s wrong??” Beca rushed out as she rounded the corner, the sight before her answering her own question. Her eyes widened, and she paled, freezing for a couple of seconds before setting into motion. “I’m taking you to the ER. I’ll grab your shoes and coat.” 

Chloe gave a faint nod even though she wasn’t sure she registered Beca’s words. Her feet seemed rooted to the floor while Beca’s hurried steps faded. She couldn’t move. She kept staring at her bloodied hand as the most dreaded, terrible, gut-wrenching feeling seized her entire being. 

“I can’t--” she found herself saying when Beca appeared in her line of vision. The air got stuck in her throat before it could reach her lungs, just as her words died before it reached her tongue. She couldn’t lose her baby. “Bec.” 

“I know,” Beca murmured as she helped Chloe slip her jacket on. Her own hands were shaking. She bent down to guide Chloe’s feet into her sneakers, one by one, then grabbed a towel from the cupboard under the sink. 

Another cramp made Chloe cry out, and she felt more blood seeping out of her, in a greater amount this time around. She felt it dripping down her legs and choked on a sob, clutching at her stomach. 

The elevator ride and walk to the car was a blur, and Chloe found herself blankly staring out the window as Beca rushed to the hospital, hoping with all her might that her baby would be okay.

[softboywriting]

Fight For You | Part 1

Summary: Your whole adult life you’ve dated mixed martial arts fighters, it comes naturally with working and living in and around the fighting circuits. After a fallout with your now ex-boyfriend you find a new place to start a new life where you find someone who is willing to fight for you as much as you are for him. Will you be able to build something beautiful or will your past come back to haunt you? [fighting] [asshole ex]

Word Count: 13k

Authors Note:  None of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics on any platform.

|Masterlist In Bio|

Moving to a new town in a new state is a fresh start for you. After a rough year dealing with an asshole boyfriend, leaving said boyfriend and losing your job, you have to find a new place in life. The world is a clean slate for you and Red Lake is where you’re ready to put down some roots and start over. Your best friend Jodi and her wife live there and they’re the closest thing to a real family you have left so choosing Red Lake was a no brainer.

"So, how's the apartment?" Jodi asks as she unlocks the back door of the gym where she works. Her wife Harlow is the owner and a former female MMA fighter. "It's not too shitty I hope."

"Oh I didn't get the apartment. I got the house on Garden Plaza. The one Harlow said her friend was renting out."

"Oh yeah! Fuck, I totally forgot." Jodi holds the door open for you and you wander into the back storage room. It's full of old mats and various pieces of equipment in need of repair. "When does the truck arrive with your stuff?"

"This week. The drivers said tomorrow but I'm not counting on it."

Jodi pushes open the door to the main hallway to the gym floor and nearly smacks into someone. "Holy shit!" She leans on the door and you step forward to see who she hit or just got scared by.

"Are you okay?" A voice says from beyond the door and a head pops out. "Sorry Jodi."

"God! Why are you here so early!" Jodi asks, ushering you out into the hall. She closes the door and you see a guy in a fitted black shirt and a pair of grey sweats standing behind the door. He's oddly familiar.

"Harlow asked me to come in and...wipe down the mats." The guy stares at you and you stare back. You know him. Those chocolate curls, soft eyes, and sharp jawline are unmistakably familiar. You just can't put your finger on it.

Jodi waves her hand in front of his face. "Shawn? Earth to Shawnie boy!"

Shawn Pierce. Shit, yeah it's coming back to you. Tate trained with him about a year ago when he was trying to get into the western region MMA championship circuit. You were never properly introduced but you did talk a few times. Tate didn't bring you by the gym a lot, he claimed you distracted him.

"You're Tate Greyson's girlfriend right?"

"Ex." Jodi snorts and you shove her shoulder. Shawn raises his eyebrows.

"I was, yes. We're not together anymore." You chuckle and shake your head. "Not that we were ever that together in the first place."

Shawn narrows his eyes at you and you shift uncomfortably. "Did he hit you?"

"What?" Your eyes go wide.

"The bruise on your collarbone."

Jodi leans in and pulls your shirt aside a little bit. "Oh shit, what happened?"

Suddenly you remember the bruise in question. You had fallen off the step ladder in your apartment back home while taking down your plant hangers. "I fell while packing up my apartment." You pull your shirt back to show Jodi more of the yellowing bruise. "I swear Tate never hit me. It's been months since I've seen him."

"Oh thank God." Jodi sighs and pulls out her keys. "I'd kill him myself if he touched you."

Shawn steps back and rubs his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed anything."

You lean against the wall as Jodi walks up the stairs to her office door. "No, it's fine. Tate is a bit of a loose cannon, but he never hit me."

"Yeah, he was a tough one." Shawn folds his arms, stretching the tee across his chest and you can't help but stare. He shakes his head. "He never did like to listen, always just wanted to swing hard and fast, no finesse."

"Should have seen him in bed. Same tactic."

Shawn's eyes widen and you realize you didn't really need to tell him that. You flush and he just laughs. "Man he must have pissed you off if you're out here dragging him like this."

"Yeah he did." You roll your eyes at the thought of Tate. Everything he did pissed you off. Silence falls between the two of you and you push off the wall. "I'll see you around?"

"I'm here just about every day." He puts his hand out for you awkwardly and you take it, giving an oddly formal shake. "Are you going to be here a lot?"

"Dunno. I got a job at Dixie's down the street but I work nights. So I might come around a bit."

Shawn drops your hand and runs his hand over his hair. "A waitress?"

"Bartender." You smirk and he grins. "You can stop by, I make a good gin and tonic. I'm allowed discounts for family and friends."

"I'm a friend then, eh?"

"Oh I'm sure you'll be a friend." You look him over and bite your lip. "Maybe more."

Shawn grins and you can't miss the pink that spreads across his cheeks. "You're bold. I like that." He steps back and turns to go out to the main floor. "I should get back to those mats now."

"Mmmhmm." You wave him off. "See ya."

Jodi clicks her tongue and you steps out of her office. "You are so predictable." She says from the top of the stairs.

You jog up to meet her and give her a look. "What? Because I think he's hot?"

"No, because he's a fighter." Jodi rolls her eyes and sinks into her chair as you follow her into the large room. "You only date fighters."

"Says the woman who married one!"

"Hey, I don't count. Harlow is the only fighter I ever dated and I didn't even know she was a fighter when we started going out."

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. So I got a type. Whoopty do."

"At least Shawn's a good one."

"You saying I have poor taste?"

Jodi picks up a few large envelopes and stares at you over them. "You're joking right? Tate? Remember that hot garbage of a few months ago?"

"Yeah but Chase before him wasn't garbage."

"Chase was a two month fling while you worked the circuit with me. Was he ever anything?"

You flop down onto the couch under the window that overlooks the gym. "I guess not. So what, Shawn's a fighter and I like fighters. Maybe he'll be a keeper."

"Ex fighter."

"Hmm?"

"Shawn's an ex fighter." Jodi types aways at her computer and you wait for her to continue. "He doesn't fight anymore. What?"

"He doesn't? Why? He looked healthy."

"Personal choice. Harlow has been trying to book him on the circuit for years. He keeps in shape and trains other fighters for Harlow but he's not getting in that ring for anything. It's a shame, he was a two time champion."

You look out the window to where Shawn is running along the mats on the far side of the gym with a towel. You wonder what made him stop competing. A guy like him could take out anyone his weight. No doubt. You'd seen him spare with Tate once when he trained with him. Shawn has the skill, what would drive him to waste it?

_____________________

Dixie's is a hole in the wall kind of place. Definitely a local spot and everyone in town goes there. It's a bar and restaurant that serves your classic American staples, burgers, fries, steak and sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but the food is good and homemade. The day time crowd at Dixie's is mostly families, regular customers on their lunch breaks or afternoon meetups, occasionally a truck driver or two since it's on the edge of the town. The night time crowd at Dixie's is much different, very adult orientated. They didn't let kids in after eight since that's when most of the drunks and party goers start showing up. Most people know to avoid Dixie's for a late dinner lest you be caught up in a fight or have to listen to some guy babble on about the good ole days for four hours.

You work the night shift at the bar. You don't mind, you tended places much worse. Hell, you lived in Vegas for a year after graduation and that's where you learned to bartend. When you're raised in hell, the rest of the world doesn't seem so bad.

"Hey! You made it!" Carrie says from the door to the kitchen. "I was worried you wouldn't come back after last week."

"What? Greg? Please, I've dealt with a lot worse then having a drink thrown at me and being called a raging bitch." You place your purse under the counter behind the bar in a little safe. Carrie didn't fuck around when it came to safety and personal belongings in her bar.

"Oh thank God. Greg is an asshole but if you made it through the night with him I think you'll be alright."

"I worked in Vegas, Carrie." You grab your apron off the wall beside her. "I've seen shit. Greg, ain't shit."

Carrie looks incredibly relieved. "I've had four bartenders walk out because of him."

"Yeah, well, they weren't me." You wave to one of the waitresses, Sammy, coming in for her shift. The two of you hit it off really well last week so you're excited to work with her tonight."Besides, I'd like to stick around."

Carrie pushes open the kitchen door and you follow her in. "Oh yeah? Find a love interest?"

"I don't think I'd call him that yet. But I'm definitely interested." You grab a few plates off the warming table to help Carrie serve them. "We've met before."

"Oh wow, coincidence huh? You just moved here right?"

"Yeah. It's so weird, but he's a fighter who trained with my ex boyfriend a year ago. I guess I'm bound to meet people from the same circuit."

Carrie chuckles and leads the way with her arms full of plates. "You like those fighters huh? We got a lot of those type around here."

"I do." You fall silent as you help Carrie serve the large group of middle aged people at the front of the seating area. As soon as you're done Carrie walks with you to the bar.

"Anyway, those fighters are always coming in here. I don't mind the business of course, they eat a lot. But some of them also drink alot and bar fights between fighters is a nightmare."

"Don't worry, I can handle them." You wipe out some glasses on the drying station and Carrie starts going through the liquor stock to see what she needs to bring out of the back for the night. "I swear, I'm sticking around."

Carrie pauses and looks over at you. "You seem pretty set on it."

"Yeah, I am. Things are good here. I have my own place, I'm near my best friend, there's a hot fighter who I wanna get to know. It's good. A fresh start."

"I'm happy for you dear." Her hand comes down on your shoulder and you look over at her. She's smiling, her big round glasses sitting too low on her nose. She blows a stray curl out of her face and pats your shoulder a few times. "You're a good kid."

"I try to be." You chuckle. "Anyway, looks like it's kicking off early tonight." You point at a group of guys who have just walked in, some fighters by the looks of them. Out of circuit fighters, the kind who drink too much and let their bodies get weakened by alcohol. You scoff to yourself. Frat boys with too many muscles and big dreams but no dedication. A bunch of Tate Greysons'. It's gonna be a long night.

___________________

"Pierce! Focus!" Harlow yells from the office doorway at the top of the stairs. Shawn is standing in the ring with his client for the day but he keeps looking over at you where you're talking to Jodi near the bathrooms.

You look over and bite your lip, knowing you got him in trouble. "Anyways, as I was saying," you turn back to Jodi and she's grinning. "What?"

"Harlow is gonna kick his ass if he doesn't stop gawking at you." She looks up at her wife through the window and she's pacing the office, watching Shawn like a hawk. "You're quite a distraction."

"I don't mean to be. I'm just standing here for fucks sake." You gesture to your jeans and plain tee shirt. "I'm not even dressed up!"

Jodi laughs. "Shawn's just soft, he's got your attention and he doesn't want to lose it. I don't know the last time he had a girlfriend."

"Really?" You look back. "A guy like him has been single for-" Shawn gets clocked in the head. "Oh shit."

Jodi sighs. "Moron."

You jog over to the ring and hold onto the cage, staring at Shawn on the ground. "Are you okay?!"

"Dude, you went down like a sack of bricks." The other fighter says, kneeling on one knee beside Shawn. "Dude?"

"Is he knocked out?" You ask, walking along the ring to climb the stairs at the open entryway. "Shawn?"

"I haven't been hit that hard in years." Shawn groans, eyes closed. "Good left hook, Connor."

"Thanks, but for real are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Shawn sits up and holds his head. "Y'know no matter how many fights you're in, and how much training you do, getting hit hurts worse when you're not expecting it."

"Getting hit hurts in general." You laugh and help him up on his feet. "And you would have expected it if you weren't staring at me."  

Connor snickers.

"I was not staring." Shawn stretches his arms and shakes off the hit.

"Yeah? Why'd you get hit then?"

"We're sparing."

"Uh huh." You look to Connor. "Did he seem distracted?"

"Very."

"Mmm thought so." You turn and walk out of the cage with a glance back with a small smile.

Shawn calls out to you as you cross the gym floor. "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?!"

"Stop staring at me and actually talk to me is what it means!" You laugh and meet up with Jodi outside the office. "God he's ridiculous."

"He hasn't asked you out yet?"

"No! It's been a week since we met. He just stares at me when I'm here and occasionally says no more than four words to me." You glance over and Shawn and Connor have changed positions so Shawn is with his back to you. "I think he's shy."

"Shawn? Nah. He's sweet, always has been. I think he's just cautious because he knows you just got out of a relationship, and one with a former trainee of his too. I'd be cautious."

"Well light a fire under his ass for me will you?"

Jodi gives you a thumbs up. "I'll get right on that boss. Matchmaker Jodi Price is on the case!"

"Oh shut up. Just talk to him?"

"I will." Jodi grabs her keys from Harlow as she steps out of the office. "We'll be back later honey."

"I'll pick up dinner." Harlow looks out at Connor and Shawn. "If I'm late it's because I've got two man-children to deal with."

"Easy on him. He's got feelings for our girl here."

Harlow rolls her eyes. "I don't pay him to have feelings."

"You're such a hardass, Harlow." You laugh and she smirks. "I promise I'll try not to stop in too much when he's training Connor."

"Yeah yeah." Harlow waves you off. "Get out of here, go have fun."

"Picking up furniture at Ikea isn't fun." Jodi says in annoyance.

"Mmhmm. Sure its not. Bye bye." Harlow walks toward the window to the gym floor and you wave goodbye.

"Come on." You put your arm around Jodi's shoulders. "Let's go build some skeptical furniture and relive the good ole days."

Jodi laughs. "Yeah, the good ole days of duct taped chair legs and book balanced tables. God I hope these Ikea things will be better than our crap back then."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

_____________________

Building furniture is a nightmare. You and Jodi spend an hour putting together a dresser that you end up abandoning in favor of Chinese take out and a rerun of Chopped you hadn't seen before while sitting on the boxes for your nightstand and kitchen cart. You still have both of those items plus your bed frame to build. You'll get to it eventually.

Eventually leads to three days later and you still have the boxes propped against the wall of your living room where you and Jodi abandoned them after dinner. Every day you walk past them and think, maybe that day, but then you keep going. It's not until today, Friday, your day off, that you might actually get them built.

"Hey, what're you doing tonight?" Shawn asks as he steps down out of the cage. You've been watching him spar with one of the other trainers for an hour now after stopping by to help Jodi read over some paperwork for the gyms lease.

"Me?"

He grins. "Yeah, you."

"Building furniture for my house."

He chuckles and sinks into the chair next to you, observing two fighters now sparing on the mats nearby. "Sounds like a wild time."

"Oh it will be. I'll probably decide to get drunk halfway through and just say fuck it again." You laugh to yourself. "Drunk lonely furniture building on a Friday night. I've reached my peak at age twenty four."

"Need some help?" Shawn looks over and you raise your eyebrows. He is really making a move. Finally.

"You sure you don't have some floors to clean or something?" You ask, referencing the last time he tried to get out of your attempt to instigate a date. He is a weird one, definitely interested but hesitant for some reason. You get what Jodi said, about him being cautious because of your past with Tate but it's been almost five months. You're ready to move the fuck on. You gotta make it clear to this man you're ready.

Shawn smiles and looks away. "Okay, fair enough. Just call me out why don't you?"

"Yeah? You realize you've been dragging this out?"

"Yeah yeah. So can I come over?"

You grin and cross your arms. "I guess. What do you drink?"

"Tequila?" He says with a smirk as he starts unwrapping his hands.

"I'm not buying tequila. I don't know about you but tequila fucks me up and I will make some bad decisions."

"Me too, maybe we should go for it then."

"Absolutely not." You reach over and grab Shawn's hand as he picks at a piece of the fabric that's tucked too tightly under another. "How about we just start with some hard lemonade or something?"

Shawn smiles and closes his big hand over yours. "It's a date then?"

"Is it a date?"

"Could be."

"Let's just call it hanging out for now." You place the coiled up wad of wrapping fabric in Shawn's hand. "Now, I'm going to get lunch at Dixie's. You want something?"

"Nah, I brought lunch." Shawn looks over at the sitting area where Harlow has set up a refrigerator, a stand with a microwave and a few little tables with chairs. "Leftover chicken and rice."

You stand and Shawn stands with you. He flexes his hand a few times to work out the stiffness of it being bound too tight in the wrapping. You head for the office stairs to see if the ladies want lunch too. "I'll let you know when I'm heading home so you can follow me."

"Works for me."

"Oh, and don't wrap your hand so tight next time." You point at his hand. "You should know better."

Shawn grins sheepishly. "Maybe someone else should wrap it for me?"

"Maybe." You smile and he just grins.

_____________________

"Hey Jodi have you seen- oh." Shawn leans against the door as he looks between you and Jodi on the couch in the office. It's almost seven and you had completely lost track of time.

"Yeah?"

"Whatcha doing?"

Jodi holds her half wrapped hand up to show Shawn. "Teaching her to wrap."

Shawn smirks. "Your ex never taught you?"

"Tate didn't like having me around too much when he was fighting. He said I distracted him. So I didn't get to wrap his hands but once or twice."

"What a dick. Well I'm done cleaning up for the day, are you ready to go?"

Jodi raises her eyebrows. "Y'all have a date? And you didn't tell me?"

"It's not a date." You roll your eyes. "He's just going to help me with the furniture."

"So he's gonna be at your house with you alone?"

"Yes." You stand and Jodi unwinds her hand. "Now don't say another word missy." Jodi just snickers and you grab your purse. "Let's go Shawn."

An hour into furniture building and you're sure you're going to combust. Shawn is so big and thick, and close. He's in a pair of tight black jeans and a black tank top, having forgone his shirt almost as soon as you started working. He is just...he's too much. You thought Tate was big, you thought Tate was ripped and he was but not like Shawn. The way Shawn is built and the way he moves so fluidly is just...it's enough to stop your heart.

"Hey, hello?" He waves his hand in your face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Yeah?"

Shawn chuckles and leans back on his forearms. "What'd I say?"

"Hello?"

"Nope. I asked you if you wanted to get dinner."

"Oh." You push your hair back out of your face and look up at the clock over your kitchen table. "It's almost eight. Shit."

"So? Do you work tomorrow?"

"Yeah in the evening, but I didn't mean to keep you this late."

"It's not late?" Shawn laughs. "It's no big deal. I'm off tomorrow. I'll order something and we'll keep putting together this bed frame, sleeping on a mattress on the floor is bad for your back."

"Mmmhmm. Sure you don't just want to stay late to get me on this bed after we put it together?"

Shawn sits up, leans forward onto his hands and knees, face close to yours as he pushes himself up off the floor. "Oh I'll be much more upfront when I wanna do that." He pulls out his phone and you flush hot. "What sounds good? Pizza? Wings? Chinese?"

"Don't you need to eat healthy?"

"I do." He smiles over at you. "It's alright to indulge now and then."

"Oh."

"None of this is going away because I eat some pizza now and then." He gestures up and down himself. "I know that sounds incredibly pretentious but I worked hard for this strength. I'm having pizza." He puts the phone up to his ear and walks around the room aimlessly as it rings.

"Tate never wanted to get dinner. He said it'd ruin his diet." You stand and look around at the scattered pieces of the bed frame and your stomach rumbles loudly.

"Yeah because he was an idiot." Shawn says softly before answering the phone and placing an order for a medium taco pizza.

You raise your eyebrows and he grins. How did he happen to know your favorite pizza? There was no way he could have known or guessed. Taco pizza was not an every day order.

"Thank you bye." He pockets his phone. "Anyway Tate was obsessed with his eating habits. I remember sitting him down and explaining that he actually needs to eat real food and not protein shakes and supplements for every meal. He didn't ever listen though."

"Yeah he was an idiot, okay, but how did you know I like taco pizza?"

"Wild guess."

"Uh uh. Who told you?"

Shawn holds his hands up. "Honest to God, you want the truth?"

"Yeah. Who was it?"

"No one. Seriously, it was a wild guess. I like taco pizza and I noticed you have little taco magnets on the fridge and a taco pillow on your couch so I figured maybe you like them too. Seriously, it was a shot in the dark."

You stare at him slack jawed. He had been in your house for an hour and he noticed your taco magnets? That was...just so...weird? What else did he notice? You look around your room suddenly very self conscious of everything you have sitting on the dresser and nightstand. "I...I don't know what to say about that."

"About what?"

"About how observant you are."

"Oh. Should I not be?"

"N-no, I mean, it's fine? I've just never had someone pay attention to my stuff I guess."

Shawn chuckles and gets down on his knees to start taking the rest of the bed frame pieces from the box. You definitely don't miss how his ass is perfectly accentuated by the dip of his jeans. "Well, I like your place, it's interesting and cozy. Sorry if that's weird, I don't mean it to be."

"It's fine." You get down next to him, eyes still on his butt and he hands you a bag of screws. "It's just different. You're different." He leans forward to grab a bar from the frame and the way his back curves makes you want to grab his ass so bad. It's perfectly round and you just want to feel it so badly.

He glances over with a smile as he sits back on his knees. "Is that good?"

"W-what?" You feel a flush on your cheeks. Was he talking about your staring? Was he good? Because yes, a thousand times yes he was.

"Is it good that I'm different?"

"Oh! Yeah, very good." You smile and look down with a chuckle as you dump the bag of screws into a little Tupperware bowl he hands you that you've been using for small parts so nothing gets lost. "I like different."

"Me too." He grins and you meet his eyes. "Let's get this bed together so we can relax when the pizza gets here."

"Sounds like a plan."

_____________________

"Busy night?"

You look up from the back of the bar and see Shawn sitting a few seats down from you. He's smiling, hair pushed back looking like a damn angel in his white tee. The bar has been crowded for two hours now, a huge bachelor party of some sort taking up most of the space in the building. You and Sammy have been working double time to get food and drinks out as quick as possible. Big parties of guys meant big tips, keep them happy, keep that tip growing.

"Yeah." You glance over to the loud crowd nearby. "Bachelor party."

"I see. Must be fun?"

"For me or them?"

"Both?"

You chuckle and walk down to stand in front of him. "Is it fun making drinks? Yes. Is it fun watching a bunch of twenty some year olds get hammered while getting hit on by every one of them? Not so much."

Shawn waves off a drink offer as you gesture to the bar behind you. "I just came by to see how you were doing. You haven't been by the gym in a few days."

"Oh, you noticed." You lean back and smile. "I've been working doubles. Carrie has had a cold and I didn't want her to push herself. I'm a lot younger, I can't handle a few days of work."

Shawn cracks open a peanut from the bucket on the counter for customers. "You're a sweetheart." He grins and pops the peanut in his mouth. "Glad you're alright though."

"Did you think I was avoiding you?"

"Nah. Well, a little?" He chuckles and hangs his head. "Honestly I thought I fucked up the night we put together your bed."

You step forward and fold your arms on the counter in front of him. "I'd tell you if you fucked up. Trust me, you haven't done anything to put me off."

"Good. What do you say to lunch Wednesday?"

"I'd say I hope you like Dixie's pulled pork special because that's where I'll be."

"You work dayshift again?" He shakes his head.

"Yep. My last double."

"Okay, alright. I'll stop by?"

"I'd love it."

Shawn looks over at the party of guys getting loud again. "I'm gonna head out before that gets too wild. Stay safe honey."

"Bye Shawn." You roll your eyes at his ridiculous pet name and he waves as he heads out.

____________________

"How's Connor doing?" You ask as you watch the young fighter spar with one of the other guys while Shawn is taking a break in the office.  

"The kid is insane. He's fast, strong, smart too. He reminds me of myself when I was nineteen."

You look over and Shawn is tossing a stress ball up at the ceiling casually. "Connor is nineteen?"

"Yeah." He looks over with a grin. "Why? Thought he was cute?"

"Shawn! God, no. I'm just surprised Harlow took on a guy that young."

"I was too. I remember when Connor walked into this gym. He was a short little sixteen year old with no intention of doing anything but bulking up a bit."

"He didn't wanna be a fighter?"

"Nope." Shawn chuckles. "He came to take some HIIT classes and some CrossFit bullshit Harlow had let a trainer do for a few months. I think once he saw me and Mike in the ring he caught the bug."

You watch as Connor takes down his opponent, pinning him to the mat. Shawn's right, he is fast and strong for his size. His practice opponent is easily twenty pounds heavier than him and he is taking him down like it's nothing. "You think he's gonna make it to championship finals?"

"He going to make it to nationals if I have any say in it. He has what it takes, he's got the heart and soul of a fighter. You don't see that everyday. I've trained a lot of guys in the last few years and they just don't have what Connor has."

"Has any of your trainees made it to the championship circuit?"

"No. Not yet." Shawn looks over and you chuckle. "What? You think I'm not good at training?"

"Not that. I'm just laughing because your last trainee was Tate right?"

"Yeah."

"He definitely didn't have what it takes."

"He didn't. He couldn't listen, just wanted to do what he thought was right. You'd think when a two time western champion and two time national finalist takes the time to train you, you might try and give a fuck." Shawn sits up and squeezes the shit out of his stress ball. "Tate honest to God pissed me off like no other."

You raise your eyebrows and giggle. How funny it was that the two of you shared the same distaste for Tate. "He was something."

"No. He's nothing and he's never going to be until he gets his head out of his ass."

"Harsh."

"You think so? I'm sure you've thought the same thing."

You smirk. "I've definitely thought worse."

"And I'm harsh?"

"I haven't said it out loud." You scoff and lean back in Jodi's chair. "But someone should."

Shawn stands and walks over to the desk. He leans forward and smirks. "I'd tell that sorry piece of shit every single thing you wish you could say to him. I'd hand deliver it to him right in his smug fuckin jaw."

"Easy tiger." You run your hand up his arm, fingers curling against bicep and he drops his head. "No need for the violence. Fighting is an art not a brawl."

"You-"

"I'm using your own words against you?" You smirk and stand up, checking a message on your phone from Sammy about stopping by for tips from last night.

Shawn straightens up with a grin and shakes his head. "You remember me telling Tate that?"

"It's the first thing I ever heard you say to him."

"Tate is a dumbass for losing a woman like you, y'know?"

"Yeah." You walk around and past Shawn toward the door. "But if he wasn't, I wouldn't have ever found a man worth fighting for."

_____________________

Wednesday afternoon is a shit show. For some reason there are a couple day drinkers in at the bar and they won't stop bugging Sammy. She's covering a shift for one of the other waitresses, Megan, since it's her birthday and she's seriously regretting it. Day shift is supposed to be easy. The worst part being an occasional kid throwing food around. Poor girl.

"I just can't do it," Sammy hisses as she stands beside you at the end of the bar at the wash station. "That guy over there has been harassing me non stop. I've tried everything to get him to fuck off."

You take a look over at the end of the bar and you know exactly which guy it is. He's in his thirties, probably an insurance broker or real estate agent by the looks of his tailored suit and gray temples. He looks older than he should. There's a glass of whiskey in his hand that you served him about ten minutes ago. He's the one you were about to cut off and send packing anyways.

"Want me to make him leave?"

"Do you have a bouncer?" Sammy glances over your shoulder. "Because I don't think he's going to leave so easily."

"Well, how about we make him realize you're not into him?"

"By doing what?"

You smirk and set down your dirty glasses into the sink. "I can stage kiss you. I used to do it all the time with my friends back in Vegas." You look down at the guy. He'd definitely fall for it, he was too drunk to see straight. "We'll make a show of it."

"I don't know." Sammy twists her hands in her apron. "Maybe he'll just leave?"

"Sammy. He's not gonna leave if he thinks he has even an inkling of a chance." You pull Sammy down the bar closer to where the creep is sitting. "It's up to you. He's watching us right now."

"Okay, okay." She shakes her hands out and puts her hand on your shoulder, going up to your neck. You can see her glance over at the guy. "It's working he's watching intently."

"Good." You cup her cheek and bring your other hand up to here jaw and cover her mouth with the side or your palm as you pretend to kiss her. "Is he looking?"

"Mmhyeah."

You pull back and give Sammy a hug before going down the bar to the creep. "Do you need a refill on that?" You ask, pointing to his nearly empty glass. You weren't really going to give him a refill, he'd had more than enough.

"No." He grumbles and stands up. "I'm going home." He passes you his credit card and you settle his tab. "Thanks."

Sammy beams from her spot by the liquor shelves. "I can't believe that worked!"

"Almost every time." You walk over and hand her the ones the creep had left as a tip under his cup. "For you dear."

"Thanks." Sammy pockets the bills and smiles. "I wish I had you years ago."

"Well I'm here now." You ruffle her hair and she ducks away. "Do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Keep an eye out for Shawn? He is supposed to be coming in for lunch."

"Ohhh." Sammy smirks. "You got a little crush on the big boy?"

"Obviously." You toss your bar rag over your shoulder and head for a lady who's just walked up at the end of the bar. "How couldn't I?"

"He's a good one!" Sammy laughs and heads off to check on her tables while you get back to bartending.

_____________________

Shawn never showed up for lunch. You can't say you weren't a little disappointed since you had made plans, but you understand that he may have gotten busy at the gym. Things happen. It isn't a big deal.

You stop by the gym the next day to help Jodi with registration for the fall championship circuit for the western region. She had to have all of the fighters from Harlow's registered and ready to go by Monday. It is a ton of paperwork and you know what to do, so you volunteer to help out before work.

"Can you go get Jack for me? I need to talk to him about getting me a copy of his physical."

"Yep." You push away from her desk and head out the door. The locker rooms are to the right of the main floor of the gym and you head there first.

"Dude, I saw her kissing Sammy."

You freeze and listen to the conversation you've walked up on. It's clearly Shawn.

"So? What's the big deal?" It's Connor.

"I thought she was into me. We've been flirting and stuff and then I walk into Dixie's for lunch and she's kissing the waitress! I thought she was into guys!"

Connor laughs and sighs. "I dunno dude."

"I can be into both." You say, stepping into view and getting a good look at Shawn in nothing but a towel. He's dripping wet and it's so hard to focus on the conversation at hand, you have to look away. "Maybe if you wanted to know what was going on, you should ask me?"

Connor's eyes go wide and he looks between the two of you before ducking his head and squeezing around Shawn to make himself scarce.

"I know you can like whoever you want...I just thought..."

"Shawn." You walk over to him and lay your hand on his chest. He's warm and damp and oh Lord when he shifts you can feel the muscle flex. "Relax. I pretended to kiss Sammy so a guy at the bar would stop harassing her."

"Oh."

"Is that why you didn't show up for lunch?"

"Yeah." He rubs the back of his neck. "I walked in and saw that kiss and I didn't know what to think. I'm sorry, I should have asked you."

"It's fine. I probably would have been really confused too." You look him over and he smirks. "I swear I'm still very much into you."

"Yeah? Enough to go on a real date?"

"Mmm I think it's time we did. Any plans?"

Shawn grins. "I have a few. How's this Saturday night sound?"

"I'm off. What time?"

"Six? I'll pick you up. Wear something comfortable and not too fancy."

You raise your eyebrows and he just keeps smiling. "Alright. I'll see you then. In the meantime, have you seen Jack? We need a copy of his latest physical for the registration."

"He's probably out on the floor. If you didn't see him, check the backroom because he might be resting on the spare mats."

"In the storage area?"

"Yeah." He chuckles. "He likes to meditate and listen to his audio books back there to relax."

"Oh. Well thanks." You pat Shawn's chest and he traps your hand under his, curling his fingers around yours. "Yes?"

He bites his lip and shakes his head before releasing your hand. "Nothing. Go on."

"See you in a bit."

_____________________

"Do you still do photography?" Harlow asks you Friday day while you, her and Jodi sit in their living room while going over travel plans for the out of state fights in this year's competition.

"A little bit. I don't do anything professionally anymore."

"But you have your camera?"

"Yeah of course and my lenses. Why?"

Harlow grins. "If I hire you, will you do the photography for the website? I need pictures of all the guys for the brackets this year."

"Sure I can do that. I think I have a my backdrop stuff still as well."

"You'll probably get to photograph Shawn too." Jodi pipes up from where she's typing away at the laptop. "You could take a few just for yourself."

"Jodi!"

"What?"

Harlow groans and shoves her wife's shoulder. "I'm hiring her for a professional shoot, quit teasing her."

"Yeah yeah."

"What time do you want me to stop by? I'm free this weekend and next Thursday all day. Otherwise I work after six."

"Stop by whenever you want. I'm sure it'll take a few days to get all the fighters done and we have a few weeks before fights start. We'll start with Connor when you do get set up. He's my headliner. I'm banking on him hard so I want his photos to be really good."

"Yes ma'am."

_____________________

"So you're doing photos for Harlow?"

You look over at Shawn from the passenger side of his truck. He'd picked you up at a little after six and still wouldn't tell you where you're going. He did make you change into an old pair of jeans instead of the black skinnies you had on and promised you wouldn't regret it. You're almost convinced he's taking you mudding outside of town because you've been driving for twenty minutes and you're still not sure where the hell you are.

"Yeah, I'm doing photos for her? Why?"

"No reason, I was curious."

"You want me to take pictures of you too?"

"I'm not a fighter in the circuit."

"So?"

Shawn looks over and raises his eyebrows. "So why would you take pictures of me?"

"Because you're gorgeous." You look out the window away from him, heart racing at your admission. "I'd die to photograph you in action. You're a rarity, perfect from every angle. It'd be a treat."

"I had no idea you were so into photography. That's awesome." He bumps your leg and you look over. "I'd love to see what kind of photos you take at matches."

"I've taken some good ones. But like I said, I really want to photograph you."

He chuckles. "Sorry sweetheart. I'm retired." He turns the truck down a dirt road toward a big sign that says Pierce Ranch.

"You have a farm?"

"No, my uncle does."

"Why are we going to your uncle's farm?"

"Because I'm taking you horseback riding."

"What? You're serious?"

Shawn turns the truck into a long driveway in front of a big sprawling house. "Dead serious. My uncle is out of town for a few days and he said we could come out and spend some time out here."

You sit stunned in silence. Horseback riding as a first date. Who thought of that? It's so off the wall and incredibly romantic.

"Should we go back?"

You snap out of your thoughts and look over at Shawn as he kills the engine in front of a set of garages. He looks worried. "No, why?"

"You're really quiet. If you don't want to do this we can just go to dinner or something. I know it's kind of different and-"

"I want to go horseback riding."

"Oh." He smiles big and you can see the relief on his face. "Okay good. I'm really looking forward to having you meet my favorite horse."

You put your hand on the door to get out. "I can't wait."

An hour later and you're set up on a horse named Butters, his favorite, and you're strolling along side Shawn on a well worn path around some trees behind the barns. You were nervous at first, needing Shawn's help to stay on the horse but eventually you got the hang of it.

"So, you must really like horses then?" You giggle, looking over at Shawn during a lull in conversation.

"Yeah. I used to spend every summer here with my Uncle Carlos. I still come out here pretty often when I need to relax and get away from it all."

"Ahh, I can see why. It's nice." You bite your lip and glance over. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes?" He chuckles. "Usually that's how dates go."

"Why don't you fight anymore?"

Shawn is quiet. You know it's a sore subject, seeing as no one really wanted to get too in depth when they talked about Shawn's past. You're curious though. A man like him with his skills and experience could still be in the ring.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"No, I-I knew you'd ask eventually." He sighs and guides the horses to a clearing in the trees. He slides off and hitches his horse and then yours to a tree before helping you down.

"Seriously, you seem uncomfortable to talk about it. We don't have to."

Shawn stuffs his hands into his pockets as the two of you head for a bunch of rocks. There's a stream nearby and you can hear the water trickling along the rocks you're walking toward. This place is incredibly serene and you feel bad for bringing up such a tense subject when the date has been going so well.

"So, three years ago I won my second championship." Shawn drops down onto a large flat boulder. "But, the fight was so intense I almost killed my opponent. Now I know, fights get rough and tension runs high in the ring when there's a lot of money and a title at stake. It wasn't about that though. I kicked my opponent so hard he dropped, he just went down, lights out. It wasn't until after everything was said and done I found out he had serious brain trauma from the fight, particularly from my kick."

You sit down next to Shawn and grab his hand. He rubs his thumbs over your fingers gently before continuing.

"I found out he had a newborn baby. I accidentally almost killed this man and took him away from his child because of a sport. I had to stop after that. I couldn't do it anymore."

"Oh Shawn." You squeeze his hand and he looks at you. "You didn't kill him though. He's fine, he's alive and with his child. It is part of the risks you take as fighters."

"I know. I just couldn't deal with that sort of thing happening again. I've made my peace with it and with fighting."

"I understand." You scoot a little closer and he runs his free hand over his hair. "You're a great trainer. Maybe being a fighter isn't for you anymore, but your skills aren't wasted this way. Do you want to fight?"

"To be completely honest, yes. I want to fight every single day, I itch to compete and I think that's why I push Connor so hard. I'm living vicariously."

"Maybe you could do some small time stuff? Not such high stakes?"

"I can't." He shakes his head. "When I'm in the ring I don't stop, I fight hard until I'm out or I win. It's all or nothing."

"Oh."

"Yeah. But anyways, I'm happy training." He smiles, soft and small but genuine nonetheless. "I'm proud to be training a fighter like Connor."

"Good. That's what matters." You bite your lip and giggle to yourself. "I much rather see you like this then all beat up anyway."

"Oh yeah? Not into the black eye and busted lip look?"

"Not on you." You reach out and tenderly turn his face to you. "You're too gorgeous to see damaged."

"I'm gorgeous?" Shawn smirks and runs his hand over your hair. "I think you're mistaken. You're the gorgeous one here." He cradles your face in his hand and just stares at you lovingly.

"No, definitely not." There's a moment where you're both staring at each other's lips and you both know that you want to make a move but it's too soon. Or is it?

Shawn's hand slides away from your face and he stands, offering to help you up. "Let's go back. I've got stuff to make dinner."

"You're making me dinner?"

He hauls you up against him. "Mmhmm. You can help if you'd like." He holds you steady by your hips. "How does spaghetti and meatballs sound?"

"Really good."

"Good." He puts his arm around your shoulders and starts walking back to the horses. "Because when we both have garlic breath the rest of the night won't matter."

You laugh and he just beams at you. "You're something else." You run your hand over his back and he leans his head on yours. "I like it, I like you."

"I like you too."

_____________________

Wednesday night comes around again quicker than ever and Dixie's is crawling with people. All the fighters from Harlow's have showed up to celebrate the announcement of the western circuit championship bracket. Shawn shows up a little after nine and you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. He smiles back and makes your heart beat faster. Things have been going incredibly well with him since the date at the ranch. You're falling hard and fast and you don't really want to stop.

"Hey darling," Shawn says over the loudness as he leans against an empty spot at the bar. "How's it going?"

"Packed! Harlow brought all the guys and their friends and families in! It's crazy."

"Good for business though."

"Very. Carrie is moving faster than I've ever seen her go. We've had to pull Dave from the kitchen twice to help me catch up with drinks. We're gonna need to restock." You laugh and point back at the bar. "My tips are racking up fast too."

Shawn looks you over in your required black tee and apron. It's nothing special, but you know it looks good on you and so does he. "You deserve every dollar you get tonight. You're working hard."

"I am. Can I get you something?"

"Just a diet coke is fine. I'm taking it easy in case anyone needs a ride home tonight."

You turn around and fill a glass from the soda guns attached to the counter. "Enjoy yourself, you got most of these guys to this competition after all."

Shawn raises his drink to that and smiles. "I'm going to go hang out with Connor and Jack. I'll check in later?"

"I'll be here."

Two hours later and you are pushing through the kitchen doors to find Carrie. There's a guy who's harassing you and he's way more wasted then he should be, you've only served him three drinks and they weren't that strong. You suspect he may be taking something along with his drinks and Carrie won't have that sort of activity in her establishment.

"We've got a problem." You state angrily, gripping the doorway to the walk in cooler. "It's that asshole who's been trying to get my number since he sat down."

"Yeah?" Carrie turns to look at you as she hauls out a box of burger patties for the cooks. "Is he tweaked out?"

"I think so. He just grabbed my chest when I leaned over to hand some drinks to a guy beside him."

Carrie is livid, her eyes look like she could kill a man with her bare hands and possible has before. "Oh he's gone, I'm gonna-"

A loud crash from beyond the kitchen stuns you both and not a second later Dave, the line prep cook, throws open the door to the backroom and says there's a fight in the front area. Carrie drops the box of burgers in the cooler and closes the door as she hightails it to the front with you on her heels.

The scene before you is not pretty and immediately you think that it's one of the fighters involved. You're right. It's a fighter. But not a current one. It's Shawn and he is standing in front of the bar squared up with the drunk grabby handed guy. There is an overturned table and chairs and you think Shawn's already knocked the asshole down once, or he stumbled into the table and fell.

"Shawn!" You try to yell over the crowd but it's way too loud.

Carrie pushes past you and shoves her tiny frame through the crowd. You decide to go around to get behind the bar and as soon as you do you see a mess of shattered glass and ice on the floor.

"Shawn!" You shout, hands cupped around your mouth. "Shawn stop!"

He isn't listening or he can't hear you. Either way he's swinging at the drunk guy again in defense and before anything can get worse, the cops show up. You watch as the crowd separates and drunk grabby hands gets cuffed while Shawn tries to talk to the cops. It's no use and you watch them walk Shawn out of the bar as well.

You lean on the counter with your back to the door as the two guys get escorted out. Great. You can't help but feel like this is your fault. Shawn must have seen the move grabby hands pulled and approached him. You run your hand over your hair and look to Carrie as she steps behind the bar.

"God damn fighters. This is such a mess!"

"Yeah it is." You chuckle dryly to yourself. "It sure is."

______________________

You didn't think you'd ever be waiting in the lobby of a police station at three in the morning but here you are. Harlow was going to come with, in fact she was going to go alone and bail Shawn out but Jodi was absolutely trashed and you know she needed to take care of her over Shawn, so you said you would go. Besides, you wanted to talk with him one on one about the fight and why it happened.

You hear Shawn before you see him. He's coming down the hall behind the check in desk. "What do you mean my girlfriend came and-"

"Hey," you wave and he walks over to you quickly and hugs you tight.

"Thank God you're okay."

"Of course I'm okay. What would have happened to me?"

Shawn pulls you back and holds your face. "I couldn't find you after that guy put his hands on you. I was worried you left Dixie's or he did something."

"Shawn, he was wasted. What was he going to do to me? He could hardly stand."

"I don't know. I approached him after I saw what happened and he was talking all this shit like what he wanted to do to you. God it was disgusting, and then I didn't see you around and I panicked."

You cup his face and he has a bruise blossoming on his left jaw. "So your instinct was to fight him?"

"He came at me. I was just going to get some of the guys to help me escort him out but he started swinging as soon as I said he needed to go."

"Well it's done and over with now." You turn and head for the doors. "I'll take you to get your truck at the bar."

The ride to Dixie's is quiet. The dark streets are empty, illuminated only by the soft yellow street lights that have been there for far longer than they should be. Seriously the light is so dim it hardly lights up the road. You turn down the street you live on to take a shortcut to Dixie's and as you pass your house you glance at it instinctively.

You slam on the breaks just past your driveway. "What the fuck?" You put the car in park and squint at your darkened front door, or lack thereof. The door is open, gone by the looks of it.

"Don't get out of the car." Shawn warns, flipping the lock button. "Someone could still be in there. Call the cops and back up out of sight."

You fumble with your phone and put it up to your ear. You report the break in and your street name. As soon as you're done you reverse down the street until you're a few houses away.

Shawn reaches over and lays his hand on your shoulder. "Do you know anyone who might have done this?"

"No. I have no idea. I don't even have anything worth stealing!" You lean your head on the steering wheel. "I don't understand. Could this night get any worse?"

"Don't say that." Shawn rubs up and down your back. "It's not the end of the world. We'll find out what's going on."

"What if I had gone home from Dixie's? What if I didn't come pick you up?" You look at the darkened house. "What if I was there?"

"You weren't. That's what matters. Look," he points to a police car coming down the street. "Here comes the cops."

"Will you go in with me?"

"Of course. You think I'm gonna just stay in the car?" Shawn grabs your hand and kisses it gently. "Come on, let's go talk to the cops."

An hour later and you've filed a full report with Officer Jones. There was nothing stolen as far as you can see. The house is fine, completely in order except for your room. Your dresser had been torn through and your closet emptied out, bed sheets and blankets torn apart too. You have absolutely no idea what someone was looking for and Officer Jones kept asking if you were completely sure you didn't know who could have done this.

It's nearly five in the morning and you are exhausted. The sun is coming up and the sky outside is getting brighter by the minute. You need to sleep and you don't feel safe in your house with the door broken and your bedroom torn apart.

"Grab some clothes, I'm gonna take you to my place." Shawn says, walking around your mess of a bedroom. "We'll take care of the broken door frame and stuff later."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Come on. I know we're both exhausted so I'll drive and we'll pick up my truck tomorrow. We need to rest, it's been a long night."

You grab a tote bag from your closet and throw a few shirts and jeans in it with some underwear. "I could stay with Jodi."

"I really would feel better if you stayed with me." Shawn takes the bag from you as you grab a pair of shoes and socks by the dresser. "Are you okay with it?"

"Of course Shawn." You join him by the door and lay your hand on his shoulder. "I trust you. We'll go to your place. If you want to take that stuff to the car I'm going to grab my camera gear. I told Harlow I'd start doing photos tomo- today." You sigh. "Well, I'll try and get everything set up after we get a few hours of sleep."

"I'm sure she'll understand." He rubs your back and you lean your head on his shoulder. You're absolutely at your limit, body ready to collapse on the next available soft surface. "I'll be in the car. Don't take too long."

"I won't."

_____________________

When you wake up you have no idea what time it is. Shawn's room is bright and you look around for some hint that he is there. He had insisted you take his bed and he'd sleep on the couch. His bed smells so good, like fresh laundry and his cologne. Warm and spicy, it is absolutely perfect. You reach for your phone on the nightstand and see it's just after noon. There are three missed texts.

Harlow: are you coming by to do the shoot today?

Shawn: I'll be at the gym, take it easy and help yourself to the fridge.

Harlow: nvm please rest I talked to Shawn

You close your eyes and flop back onto the pillows. You promised Harlow you'd be by to take some photos, at least some of the ones for the gym website. You turn over and curl up with Shawn's spare pillow, pressing your face into while opening Shawn's text to reply.

You: is Harlow mad I didn't make it?

Shawn: no. I explained the situation and she's more worried about you than anything

You: tell her I can still make it in to set up at least

Shawn: okay. If u are coming by bring me an extra shirt? I forgot to bring one for post workout.

You: okay no prob.

You glance over at his dresser and then back to the window opposite you that over looks the tree line behind his house. It looks like a nice day, it'd be a shame to waste it but you aren't feeling like going out. You just want to stay curled up in his bed forever. Yesterday was so draining with everything that happened and you don't know how much you can handle without snapping at someone. Rest had definitely helped but you still feel uneasy about the break in. It just seemed so targeted like Officer Jones said, but you can't imagine what someone would want from you.

Eventually you get up and make your way down stairs to the kitchen. Shawn's place is beautiful, it truly is. It's very much like a modern cabin and you're not surprised since it's just outside of town in the woods. He's got a few neighbors but it's not like a usual neighborhood setting.

You grab a protein bar from what you assume was once a fruit basket. It looks good enough and you grab your purse from the living room, stuffing one of Shawn's tees into it before you head out. You pause, looking down at the white shirt hanging out of your purse. You go back into the bedroom and take a blue shirt from Shawn's dresser before stripping off your top and pulling the white tee on over your head. It's a little big but it fits well enough and you smile to yourself in his mirror. You grab your purse and head for the front door.

The drive into town is quiet, a little long, but it's nice. It's one long road that winds around the woods in a circle and then turns out on to Main St that you take all the way into town. It's basically a cul-de-sac but in the woods. The whole time you wonder if you should stop by the house and check on it, or if you should call Officer Jones and see if they have anything to go off of. You're really banking on one of your neighbor's having a security camera or something that spotted the intruder. Though your street is so dark at night it's hard to see anything anywhere.

You turn into the lot behind Harlow's and park beside Jodi's Jeep. You unload your backdrops and stands, carrying everything in the back door. You're met with Connor whos grabbing some tape for a mat from the storage room and he offers to help.

"Look who I found," Connor announces as you walk out onto the gym floor with all your stuff in hand.

Shawn walks over from boxing with a stand up bag. "Hey darling," he takes your camera bag and stand case. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yes." You smile softly. "Your bed is very comfortable."

"I'm glad." He rests his hand on your lower back. "Is this my shirt?"

"Maybe."

He grins and kisses your cheek. "It's all yours now. Looks good on you anyway. Any word from Officer Jones?"

"Not yet. I'm sure he'll call tonight or tomorrow."

"You can stay at my place as long as you need to."

You stand up on your toes a bit and kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

"Alright love birds break it up." Jodi says loudly, clapping at the two of you. "Before you start getting set up I wanna talk to you about what happened, I need to know who I'm going to skin alive."

"We don't know anything yet Jodi." Shawn says with an eye roll. "I told you that."

Jodi snorts. "I'm still going to kick someone's ass."

"I promise I'll let you know who to hunt when we hear back from the police." You say softly and Shawn gives you another kiss on the head before heading back over to the cage with Connor. Jodi puts her arm around you and the two of you head to the backroom that isn't full of old equipment to set up your camera.

_____________________

Photos go well, you manage to get all the guys done in a few hours. You'll go home later and look them over to decide if you need to reshoot anything. But for now you are finished and starting to pack up.

"Hey, you forgot one."

You turn and look at Shawn standing in the doorway to the backroom where you're set up. "I did?"  

"Yeah. Me." He grins and steps in, closing the door behind him. "I thought you couldn't wait to get photos of me."

"Well, I figured I could get them any time."

"Oh? You think I'll pose for you whenever you like?"

You smirk. "You might, but I want to take candids of you."

Shawn wraps his arms around you and you lean back into his chest. "Candids huh?" He noses against your ear, hand going over your stomach. "Like private candids of me in my bed, laid out on the sheets holding my-"

"Shawn!"

He chuckles deeply and you can feel your body get warm, heat pooling between your legs. "Is that not what you want?"

You turn around in his hold and run a hand over his hair. "I want so much more from you then a couple of photos."

"Yeah? Tell me what you want."

"Oh you know...all the good stuff."

"The good stuff?" He walks you back against the backdrop and you bring his head down, foreheads rolling together. "This kind of good stuff?" He asks lowly before he kisses you softly.

"I know why you came in here." You whisper between kisses, hands going up and down his back. "You're jealous."

He lets out a growl as he kisses along your jaw. "You think I'm jealous of my fighters?"

"Your fighters hmm?"

"Mmm. I'm partnered with Harlow." He pulls back to look down at you. "I own the gym with her. I thought you knew?"

"No, I had no idea. She seems so bossy and it's called Harlow's so..."

Shawn plays with the ends of your hair, twisting his finger around bits of it. "She already had the place, I just bought in with championship winnings to keep it open. She runs the business side with Jodi and I run the gym floor as you can tell."

"Wow. So Connor and the other guys in the circuit this season is a huge deal for you."

"Yeah. A win from one of them could mean we expand Harlow's, new equipment, more fighters. With four guys going this year we have a good chance, and with Connor, we have the odds in our favor, I think."

You grin and shake your head. "Our first kiss and here we are talking business. Y'know if you were anyone else I'd have left by now."

"But I'm not anyone else." He leans in and bumps his nose to yours. "I'm special huh?"

"Oh you're special alright."

Shawn gives you one more kiss before he laughs and pulls back. "Let me make it up to you. I told Connor I'd go to dinner with him at Dixie's to talk about his first fight and what to expect. We can go a little early and have some time to ourselves first. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like a date."

"Oh it's not necessarily a date, but it could be."

You smile and he just holds your hips looking down at you. "Come on, enough staring like weirdos. I'm hungry."

____________________

Dixie's is packed when you arrive but you manage to get a table near the bar that's a small two seater. You see Carrie running around like a mad woman and two of the day time waitresses are running around behind her. The place is popular this time of year with fighters and their crews moving into town and nearby during the first part of the western circuit. That's what Carrie told you anyway during her briefing on what to expect and how she deals with the increased number of fights during this time of year.  

"Is that Connor?" Shawn asks, pointing to a table behind you. "What's he doing here so- oh I see."

You turn and look over at where Shawn is pointing to a corner table where Connor is and leaning on the table in her work clothes is Sammy. You smirk, it's about time they talked. Sammy has been eyeing Connor for weeks but she's hesitant because he's a fighter and she knows what the lifestyle entails.

“They’re kids, leave 'em be.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sammy is a good girl. I’m not worried about it.”

“She is. She also knows what it’s like to live with fighters. She told me her brother was a fighter.” You shake your head. “I think she said he went north to try for the canadian championship but he didn't win and ended up settling down up there”

“I knew her brother Devin, we fought a few times.” Shawn smiles over his drink. “The guy was really good, he gave me a run for my money.”

“Oh yeah? Did he train at Harlow’s?”

“No, no it was way before then. When I was nineteen he was twenty one, we went a few rounds in my first championship entry. I didn’t win that year, I got too cocky and big headed. He was a tough dude though, if Sammy is anything like him she’ll keep Connor in his place.”

You chuckle. “Sammy is very shy, I’m not sure she’s like her brother at all.”

“The shy ones are the ones you gotta watch out for.” Shawn smirks and you roll your eyes.

"Anyways, you said I could stay at your place again?"

"Mmhmm." Shawn smiles and chews on his straw. "I definitely don't mind."

"Good. I'm nervous about going home until we find out more from the police. It's feels like such a personal attack since they went through just my bedroom and didn't even take anything." You shake your head and lean you chin on your hand on the table. "They didn't even take jewelry. Someone wanted something from me."

"Maybe they thought it was someone else who lived there?"

"I don't know. I hope there is video footage from one of the neighbors that shows us something."

"They're gonna check with the neighbors for you?"

"Yeah, Officer Jones called while I was photographing Gauge. He said they're gonna canvas the area, ask for surveillance from anyone nearby and see if they can't get a suspect or even a car or something."

Shawn leans back and crosses his arms. "Y'know I was actually thinking, do you think it could be Tate? I didn't want to say something about him to the cops but is there something you have of his?"

You raise your eyebrows. You hadn't thought of Tate being a suspect. Hell, you were two states away from him now and it's been months since the break up. "I don't think I have anything. I gave him everything back, all his clothes and anything he ever bought me. I left it all in a box in our apartment."

"It was just a thought."

"No, it's a good one. He is crazy enough to do something like that." You roll your eyes and flag down Carrie to pay for your drinks. "Maybe I can call him, or I could try his sister Maggie."

"I'd try Maggie if you have a good relationship with her. If it was him he probably won't want to talk to you."

Carrie stops by the table and hands you your bill. "Have you seen Sammy?"

"She's over there with..." You look around for her and Connor but neither are at the table in the corner anymore. "Well she was here. Is she working tonight?"

"Yeah. Her shift starts in five minutes." Carrie takes your cash and you wave her off for change. "You say you seen her?"

Shawn chuckles. "She was with Connor."

"The fighter?"

"Yeah, my champ." Shawn stands and gives you a look and you nod, letting him know you don't mind if he goes looking for the two of them. "I think I know where they are."

Carrie raises her eyebrows. "Well if you find her, tell her to get her ass to work."

"Yes ma'am." Shawn smiles. "See you at the house." He squeezes your shoulder and heads for the front door.

A minute later Sammy comes walking in very flushed and you can't help but smile to yourself. She's got a flower tucked into her hair and you think her and Connor must have been sitting out on the patio since the flower is definitely from the pots out there.  

____________________

You get to Shawn's place a little after eight. His truck is in the driveway so you know he's there. The sun is starting to go down and you are tired from working on photos and stress from the break in. Your brain is absolutely taxed. All you want is some dinner and a soft bed. You turn the handle to the door and walk into music blasting from the kitchen. It's some eighties hair band and you chuckle to yourself as you walk across the living room to find Shawn around the corner shadow boxing at the stove shirtless.

"What's for dinner?" You laughs and he looks back around with a grin. "Smells good!"

Shawn turns and shuts off the music on his phone. "It's chili. I figured it's pretty easy to throw together since I got home just a few minutes ago."

"Why not order something?"

"Eh, I like homemade." He stirs the pot around. "I haven't had it in a while, I thought it'd be nice."

You walk around the island and take a look into the pot. It's not chili. Well, it is, but it's not what you were expecting. "What kind of chili is this?"

"Chili Verde. My dad's recipe. Wanna taste?" He spoons some out to cool in a little bowl on the counter.  "I promise it's good."

You smile. "I'm sure it's very good. What's in it?"

"Pork, onions, green chilies. I cheated and used a bottle of premade chili verde salsa for a starter since I don't have time to stew tomatillos and green chilies for hours." He spoons some up for you and you take a bite. "Good yeah?"

"Hot." You cover your mouth. "It's kinda spicy but I like it. It's good."

Shawn beams and scoops out two bowls to cool. "I'll finish getting dinner ready, go change and relax."

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. "Thank you for making me dinner."

"Of course." He kisses your nose and your heart skips. "Go on."

Post dinner you're sitting on the couch with Shawn watching some ghost hunter show. He's got his arm around your shoulders and you're tucked into his side snugly. It's comfortable, being with Shawn feels incredibly natural. He's warm and safe.

"What're you doing next Sunday?" Shawn asks as he tucks his feet against yours where your legs are outstretched on the ottoman. "I was thinking if you're available we could go out."

"I work the late shift but I can see if one of the guys can cover for me."

"I don't want you to miss work. We can go another day."

"No, I want to go. It'll be a nice escape from the stress around here." You run your hand down his forearm and slide your hand into his. "Are we going to go horseback riding again?"

Shawn squeezes your hand. "Nope. I have another idea."

"What is it?"

"I'm not telling." He grins at you and you narrow your eyes at him. "I can surprise you again can't I? It's more fun that way."

"I'd like to see what tops horseback riding."

"I have a few ideas. Don't worry." He glances at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. "I should go to bed, I have a seven o'clock session with Jack tomorrow." He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. "Do you mind if I take the bed?"

"Nope. I don't mind sharing."

"Sharing? You're ready for that?"

You push off of him and stand up, putting your hand out to him. "I'm ready for anything with you."

He takes your hand and stands, pulling you against him. "Anything huh?" He runs a hand over your hair. "Falling a little fast aren't we?"

"I don't mind." You wrap your arms around his middle. "We work well together. I've never felt this comfortable and free around someone before."

He hums. "It feels natural. I completely understand."

You scratch at his back gently and he smiles down at you. "Let's go to bed. You need to be up early."

"Mmm I could always reschedule if we wanted to stay up late." He runs his hand down your back and over your butt. "I'm sure Jack won't mind."

You shake your head and laugh. "No, you're not cancelling work because of me. We can sleep together any time."

"Well don't make it sound like we're an old married couple, jeez."

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him quickly. "Maybe it's good practice for the future."

"Wh- oh." He grins. "First kiss and you're planning our future all in one day? Damn."

"Oh shut up." You pull away and head to his bedroom. "Come on, chop chop. The bed awaits."

_____________________

You wake up in the middle of the night and you're freezing. It doesn't even feel like there is a heater on in the house. You roll towards Shawn and slide your arm around his middle, spooning him from behind. He shifts. A soft grunt followed by a mumble of incoherent sleep laden words. He's like a furnace, body radiating into yours.

"You okay?"

"Mmhmm." You press a kiss to his hair. "All good now."

"I missed this." He places his hand over yours on his chest. His heart beats in time with yours, a cadence of comfort in the night. "I missed being held."

"It's been a while?" 

"A long while. I didn't like to date when I fought. I only wanted to focus on my work." He chuffs. "I'd deprive myself to be the best. Stupid huh?" 

"No. You thought it'd help. It must have, you did win." You flex your fingers against his skin, blunt nails scratching him lightly. "Do you like being the little spoon?" 

"Love it. There's something about having someone smaller than you curled up and wrapped around you that I just love. I do like being the big spoon too, but I really enjoy being held sometimes." 

"I'll hold you any time." You give him a squeeze and he tangles his legs with yours. "You're like a big teddy bear."

He chuckles and that's the last thing you hear before you fall asleep to the sound of his soft breathing and the beating of his heart under your fingertips. 

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

End Part 1

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

Thank you for reading! Part 2 will be out sometime in the future as I have to write the ending still, but it’ll be another 13k at least. Thank you all again.  - A

[dcbbw]

Would you ever 📝 AU Romance. Riley having a pregnancy scare or how would Liam would react?

@gkittylove99!!! THIS ASK! THIS.ASK. I have to thank my pre-readers and idea bouncers @sirbeepsalot, @burnsoslow, and @ao719. And to all the folks I sent random snippets to, thank you for not thinking I was crazy!

Warnings for this full-blown fic: Slightly NSFW, Frank discussion of pregnancy termination

I awaken to feel Liam’s weight pressed against my back. His palms cover the backs of my hands as his cock sits in my center, throbbing and twitching.

“Are you awake yet?” His breath, warm and stale, tickles the back of my neck.

I respond by arching my hips upwards; I feel his groin  grind against me as he alternates his thrusts between teasingly slow and hard and rough. His teeth scrape my skin between groans of: “Throw that pussy at me,” and “You like how this dick feels?”

The head of his cock is pressed against my spot and I cry out as I release over his shaft; the pillow muffles it. Shortly thereafter, I feel his orgasm splashing against my still clenching walls. He pulls out and rolls over onto his back.

We start every morning with some form of sex. Sometimes it’s oral for me, a blowjob in front of the bedroom mirror for him, or intercourse. It’s always vanilla; we save the kinky for the nighttime.

I stay laying on my stomach; I have been tired lately. And unfocused. I think I need vitamins, maybe an iron supplement. Liam’s voice rouses me, and I turn my head to look at him.

“You need to get up, Riley. It’s time for your shower.”

“I don’t feel good,” I say.

He raises an eyebrow. “Do you have a cold?”

I shake my head. “I just don’t feel good.”

He gives me an odd look before speaking. “I’ll make you some tea and arrange to telework today.”

And then he rises naked from the bed, leaving me alone in the room.

One Week Later

It’s Wednesday, and I am in the office. Chase and Penelope have gone to make the Starbucks run before staff meeting. I didn’t order anything; I am still queasy and it’s strongest in the morning. I feel even more rundown, and there is some heartburn. I am booting up my laptop when my desk phone rings. It’s Lynn, my boss.

“Hey! Come back here and talk to me,” she requests in her signature cheery tone.

I tell her to give me two minutes and hang up. The phone rings again. “Need me to bring you anything?” I answer, sure it’s her again. But it’s Liam.

“Don’t order a car this evening. My car will pick you up at 4:30.”

I stare stupidly at my screen. “Why?”

“You’ll find out.” And the call is disconnected.

I feel uncertainty twist my already roiling stomach as I head into Lynn’s cubicle. She looks up at me, a bright smile on her face. Her hair is in loose waves and falls just past her shoulders; her skin is clear with a rosy glow.

“You look great!” I compliment her. “How do you feel?”

Lynn is entering her fifth month of pregnancy. It’s her fourth; she’s carrying twins.

“Thanks! I feel like I’m hauling around a pod of whales. Sperm whales,” she giggles at her pun.

I offer her a weak smile as I sit in the only empty chair in her cubicle. She frowns slightly. “Was that HR offensive?” She waves her hand dismissively. “I don’t know and too fat to care.”

I shake my head slightly. “You’re fine.”

She begins to dig into a styrofoam container that holds her breakfast: corned beef hash, sausage links, grits, potatoes, toast, and sunny-side up eggs. The sights and smells turn my stomach even more. As she eats, Lynn prattles about her weekend, possibly hiring a new person to help Coco in IT, and maybe putting together an employee handbook.

I say nothing because if I open my mouth, the water and yogurt I had earlier may come up. Noticing my silence, Lynn looks up me; her eyes are critical as she studies me.

“Riley, are you okay? You look … listless.”

“I’m fine!” I force myself to respond cheerfully. “Just a little tired.”

One of her hands rests lightly against her burgeoning belly; the other firmly grips her fork as she drags it through hash, grits, and egg yolk. “Go home. Get some rest for the remainder of the week.”

“I’m fine,” I protest.

“Then go home and get even better. Answer a couple of emails, take a call and you won’t have to use your leave.” She speaks around mouthfuls of food.

My eyes fall to her belly. “Do you have names for the babies yet?”

“Peanut butter and Jelly.” She sees my surprised expression. “There’s a story there, but it’s definitely NSFW. I’m not dealing with HR today.”

She waves her hand at me in a “shoo” motion. “Go home! See you Monday.”

I rise from the chair and make my way slowly back to my desk. I shut down the laptop. I pick up my desk phone and call Liam.

“What?” His tone is curt. I wonder if he’s busy or doesn’t want to hear from me.

“I’m leaving work now. I’m off until Monday.”

A pause before he speaks. I hear papers being shuffled and him typing on his keyboard. “Call the car, go to the penthouse. Shower. Don’t answer the door for anyone, don’t be a Nosy Parker, and I’ll be there shortly.”

And he hangs up.

Once inside the penthouse, I wander around before I shower. It’s rare Liam leaves me alone here; I find it feels strange without his presence. The quiet sounds different, the sun slants through the windows at an altered angle. The stovetop and counters gleam in the bright kitchen; usually both are filled with pots and pans and food in various stages of preparation. I open the refrigerator; there is a platter of homemade meatballs, perfectly rolled and shaped and filled with onions and peppers, ready to be cooked for our dinner tonight. I wonder what else we’ll have.

As I cross back through the living room, I look up at the staircase; only when Liam requests me in his study do I venture into the upper level of the penthouse. There’s a study, home gym, full bathroom, guest room, and the only ingress/egress to the outdoor space upstairs.

I keep walking until I reach the bedroom. I pass Liam’s chest of drawers and frown; one of the drawers isn’t fully closed. I set my phone on top of the furniture and place my palm against the gleaming wood to push it close, but I hesitate. I wonder what’s inside. I look around, even though I know I am the only person in the house.

I’m going to be a Nosy Parker.

I pull the drawer open cautiously and peer inside: neatly folded stacks of boxer shorts in white and black greet me. Next to them are wife beaters, also in white and black, and short-sleeved undershirts in white. There is a wooden tray on the right-hand side of the drawer; it’s mostly cufflinks and tie clips, but I see two photographs, face down. I look at them curiously; just as my fingers reach out to touch them, my phone rings.

I jump and let out a small yell before pushing the drawer shut and looking at my caller ID. I don’t recognize the number; I toss the phone onto the bed before stripping and entering the shower. By the time Liam arrives home, I am wearing his robe and wrapped in a blanket on the living room sofa. There is a talk show on the television. He stands in the doorway looking at me, carrying a brown paper bag. It smells delicious.

And I am now starving.

His eyes look me over as he passes me the food; it’s a grilled cheese sandwich and cup of tomato soup with basil. I look at him gratefully before I bite ravenously into the gooey, melted cheese and hot buttered bread. The cheese melts against my tongue; a droplet of butter rolls from my lower lip down my chin.

Liam sits next to me; he turns the television off.

“You’re feeling better?”

I am drinking savory soup directly from the container. “I’m still tired, but my nausea has passed.”

He nods thoughtfully. “You haven’t used your supplies this month, Riley.”

The sandwich is at my lips, but my mouth does not open. I’m trying to calculate the last time I had my period. Liam watches me for a few seconds before speaking.

“You’re 10 days late, Riley.”

I stare at him, struggling to come to terms with what this meant. Or could mean. Even the most regular women were sometimes late due to hormones or something.

But I was sick in the mornings. I was fatigued constantly.

The image of Lynn’s hand on her pregnant belly flashes through my mind.

I set my food down; my mouth is suddenly dry. “What … what if I am?”

“Pregnant?” Liam asks as he stands, then makes his way to the television set. He stands there, arms folded across his chest. His burgundy tie is blood against the crisp, white shirt he wears.

I nod slowly.

“You’ll get rid of it.” His tone is calm, matter-of-fact.

A coldness spreads from my belly to chill my entire body. I feel goosebumps rise on my skin. “No,” I whisper. “IF I am, it’s my body!”

“But my child. I don’t want children, Riley.”

“Then you should’ve taken better precautions!” I yell as I stand and get in his face. The robe falls open. I am naked beneath it, but Liam isn’t looking at my body.

“YOU said you were on birth control!” His voices thunders throughout the apartment. He takes a deep breath as he composes himself.

“However, I should have ensured that no … accidents could occur. I’ll be rectifying that situation.”

My eyes search his. He returns my gaze, his eyes steady. How could he be so callous, so cold towards a possible life he helped create?

“I’m not getting rid of our baby. This isn’t something you can throw money at to make it go away, Liam!”

He looks at me incredulously. “It’s a BABY! I will ALWAYS BE THROWING MONEY AT IT!” He shakes his head. “Best to make a one-time payment and be done with it.” He looks at me with hard, dark eyes. “And you either get rid of it or give it up. Those are your only options, Riley. You can’t have us both.”

He steps around me, headed for the stairway that leads upstairs. “Finish your food before it gets cold.”

The heels of his shoes tap against hardwood as he jogs up the stairs. And I am alone.

All alone.

I look around and my glance falls on my lunch. I gather it and take it into the kitchen; I watch red liquid splash against the stainless steel of the sink as I pour the soup out. I wrap the sandwich in its paper, put it back inside its bag, and ball the whole thing up before tossing it in the trash.

Back in the living room, I straighten the sofa cushions and fold my blanket; I carry the blanket with me to the bedroom. I place it back inside the closet; I look at my clothing. Clothing that Liam bought. My fingertips run across the various fabrics: silk, wool, cotton; it causes the hangers to tinkle against each other.

I am standing at the window, the robe belted tightly around my waist, when I hear Liam’s voice behind me. He says I have a doctor’s appointment Friday morning to determine if I am indeed pregnant. I say nothing as my eyes stay fixed on sunlight glinting off the East River, barely visible behind buildings of stone and steel.

I feel him behind me; I smell his cologne and hear his breathing. I feel tears prick my eyes.

“Why do you hate me so much?” I whisper.

“I don’t,” he answers softly.

His arms come around my waist and I feel his face drop into my hair. Then he steps away. “Dinner in an hour.”

“I’m not hungry.”

His footsteps pause. “You should eat.” And then he is gone.

That night, we do not have sex, but we do the next morning. We then spend the remainder of the day avoiding each other and not speaking.

I sit on his ridiculously oversized bed, chin resting on my knees, wondering what I will do if I am pregnant. I have my job; I have the alimony from Maxwell. I would need to find a bigger apartment, a two-bedroom at least.

I would not ask Liam for any child support, nor would I accept it if offered.

Friday morning, we are sitting in a doctor’s office. I fill out paperwork and give the receptionist my insurance information. Liam sits in a chair, an ankle resting on a thigh while he reads a magazine. When my name is called, he walks with me into the examination room.

The nurse is cheerful; she asks me questions that I answer in a dull tone.

No, I have never been pregnant before.

My period is now two weeks late.

The nausea is worse in the morning. I also have heartburn.

No pain.

Liam’s eyes stay fixed on me.

The nurse draws blood; I go to the bathroom to pee in a cup. And we wait.

The doctor comes in 20 minutes later. I am not pregnant. But she wants to do an ultrasound. I feel relief, sadness, and fear. I look at Liam, but his expression is stoic, giving nothing away. I agree to the ultrasound.

There is cool gel. Pictures of my insides show up on a screen. There are white spots on my right side.

I have gallstones; that is why I am nauseous and have heartburn and fatigue.

My surgery is scheduled for a month from Monday.

Liam asks if there is anything that can help relieve my discomfort for the next month. He inquires about foods and drinks to avoid. But he doesn’t look at the doctor when he asks his questions.

He is squatting in front of me, his thumb brushing my cheek while his eyes hold mine captive.

The doctor answers as she scribbles on paper: Ibuprofen to help with pain, and I need to limit my dairy, fats, grease, and fried foods.

At the reception desk, Liam pays the co-pay costs. The receptionist smiles at him. “Dr. Marion will see you Wednesday. Did you receive your paperwork?”

Liam nods, and tells her he will return it no later than Monday before he takes my hand as we walk to the elevator. I want to pull away because I don’t think he would be holding my hand if I were pregnant.

He won.

But I let my hand stay wrapped with his.

“Who’s Dr. Marion?” I ask.

“My urologist.”

“Is it a routine visit?”

I feel my stomach sour even though I haven’t eaten anything.

The elevator car arrives, and we board. He pushes the button to take us to the lobby. His eyes stay fixed on the metal doors as we begin our descent downstairs.

“I’m getting a vasectomy.”

And he says nothing else.

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   #tw discussion of pregnancy termination #tw slightly ns*w #dcbbw answers #UnRomance AU ask #liam x riley #this isn’t Cordonia