#where I’ll be able to wander and close doors and there’s stairs and a garden and I miss living in a house

[delta-piscium]

the problem with living in a studio apartment is I can’t leave the room to remember what I was gonna do

[tom-holland-parker]

Secrets

Summary: Tom is terrified about you finding out his job but when he brings you to his house he has no choice but to tell you

Pairing: Mob!tom x reader

Warning: SMALL mention of murder but nothing bad

Word count: 2374

Masterlist

"This is your house" you said in shock as Tom helped you out of the car. It was the largest house you'd ever seen and it was crazy to think that it belonged to the man you're dating. He chuckled grabbing your hand as he guided you through the front door, "it one of my houses"

You rolled your eyes looking around the fancy living room. You kept your hands to yourself, afraid that you would break something that cost more than you could imagine. "You're telling me that we've been spending weekends in my tiny studio apartment when you have a living room that size of my building"

Tom smiled watching you explore every part of the large room. "I like your small apartment. It's very cute" You stared at him with suspicious eyes, "what exactly did you say you do for a living?" 

He took a deep breath trying to remain calm as he remembered the lie he told you, "I'm CEO of a waste management company". It wasn't a complete lie, if you changed waste to people and management to murder. The truth is that Tom was too afraid to tell you that he ran one of the largest mobs in London. He was afraid you'd react badly and never want to see him again. Even though he’d only been dating you for 7 months he was completely whipped and would do anything for you.  Lying was his way of protecting you and buying time so he could find the right way to tell you what he does for a living.

You tilted your head in confusion but didn't push for detail. Instead you nodded and grabbed his hand, "so am I going to get the grand tour or are we spending the whole day in your living room". He smiled, guiding you into the other rooms. 

///

“And this is the library” Tom said as he opened the door to the large room covered floor to ceiling in bookshelves. You looked around, fascinated by all the books in the room. “Don’t get too excited, they're all history and law books” Tom said, chuckling as you sighed in disappointment. 

“You have a library in your house and you decide to fill it with boring books” You crossed your arms, “I’m convinced you’re a psychopath”. He chuckled as he stood in front of you, grabbing your chin to gently push your head up. He placed a kiss on your forehead before sighing, “I’ll clear off an entire bookshelf so you can put whatever books you want” 

“Well there's the classics, ” You began to list off all the books you could think of, “oh and there obviously-”

“Boss we got a problem” You were interrupted by a tall muscular man. Tom’s lips went thin and his jaw tightened, it didn’t take a genius to show he was annoyed. You stared in confusion but remained quiet. “Deal with it” Tom said, you flinched at the violence in his voice, “I don’t want to be bothered unless it’s an emergency” 

The man nodded his head leaving the room silently. “Your workers just hang around your house?” You questioned as Tom’s face softened again. He chuckled nervously, “I prefer to have them close to me in case anything goes wrong” 

“Interesting tactic” You joked, “It must be fun to be your employee”. He shrugged, “They still find ways to annoy me”

“But it’s waste management, how hard is it to keep track of garbage?” You asked. He laughed in amusement, as if you were telling a joke, “You’d be surprised”

“Seriously though all you have to do is pick up that trash and-” Tom interrupted holding his finger to your lips. “Enough about my job, it’s for me to worry about” He bopped your nose gently before smiling, “How’d you like to see the green house?” 

You gasped, “Why wasn’t that the first thing you showed me? Let’s go”. Tom sighed in relief, happy that you stopped asking questions, “This way Love” 

He grabbed your hand guiding you out the library to the stairs, “No one ever really uses it because no one here gardens” He explained as you got closer to the backyard, “But I saw all those plants in your apartment and figured you could find some use for it” 

It was a complete lie actually. Tom had seen the way you covered your apartment with various plants, he loved the way you took care of them as if they were real children. When he returned home that night he bought a greenhouse for his backyard, knowing that it would be a place that can make you happy whenever you came to his house. 

“This is so cool” Your eyes lit up as you walked in, hands grazing along the tables and large piles of dirt bags. You were mentally mapping out where you were going to put different plants when you heard a knock on the glass door. Another man, still tall but this time less muscular, entered whispering to Tom. You watched as Tom's eyes filled with a mixture of anger and annoyance. The man quickly left as Tom turned to you, "Darling I'm sorry I have business to handle real quick, how about you go to the living room and pick a movie for us to watch and I'll get to you as soon as possible" 

Your eyes widened nervously, "you're leaving me in the house alone?"

He chuckled grabbing your hands to lead you out the greenhouse. "No I'll be in my office in the west wing" he pointed towards the tall man from before who stood waiting outside the door, "if you need me for any reason just tell Charlie and he'll get me right away" 

You nodded your head as Tom let go of your hand, "Charlie will take you back to the living room, I'll be done as soon as possible". Tom quickly kissed your forehead before walking back into the house. You turned to Charlie, giving him an awkward smile as he began walking you to the living room. 

After an hour of sitting on the couch and staring at the television you started to get bored. You couldn't stop the little voice inside your head telling you to start exploring the house. You sighed, turning off the TV. Charlie, who had remained silent the entire time, stared at you in confusion trying to figure out exactly what you were going to do. "Where's Tom's office?" You asked, standing up from the couch. Charlie stood silent for a moment before taking a deep breath, "do you need him?"

You shook your head, "No but I'm bored and since you're not going to talk to me I might as well find something to do?"

"As much as I'd love to help you" he said sarcastically, "Tom gave me specific instructions to make sure you don't wander off"  

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, throwing yourself back on the couch as you tried to think of a way past him. You knew trying to physically overpower him wouldn't work. Trying to seduce him was useless because you sucked at flirting, something Tom loved about you. You smiled, decided to do the only thing you knew best, catch them off guard. 

"Can we at least play a game or something. I'm sure there's playing cards around here somewhere" you said looking around the room for the deck of cards. You remembered Tom telling you how he hosted poker night every Friday with his brothers. Charlie sighed grabbing the pack from the poker set on top of the large mantle. 

You took them from his hand motioning for him to sit on the floor in front of the coffee table as you shuffled and divided the cards. "Have you ever played spit?" You asked setting the game up

He shrugged, "I've played a game or two" 

"Great get ready to lose" you joked as you grabbed your cards and started the game. It only took 4 rounds for Charlie to start getting comfortable and if you weren't set on finding Tom you would've played this game with him all day. "Where's the bathroom?" You asked as he shuffled the cards for another around. He pointed towards the hallway not giving much thought about it, "its down the hall to your left. Gold doorknob"

You nodded getting up from the table and walking out the room. As quietly as you could you walked up the stairs. You didn't know exactly where Tom's office was located but you knew that the Library was in the West wing so it had to be close by. 

You slowed your pace once you reached the library doors, listening for any sort of noise that would point out the office. It didn't take long for you to hear a muffled voice shouting. You took a deep breath following the voice to the door at the end of the hall. The shouts were louder but you could tell it wasn't Tom's voice. 

You hesitantly placed your ear on the door listening for some sort of context. "This is the second time him and his gang have done this. I want him dead" the voice shouted. You imagine it belonged to a stressed middle aged man and laughed at the idea of the man's face turning red with anger. 

"You can't just kill him. You still have deals with him that need to end first" You heard Tom's surprisingly calm voice. It shocked you how nonchalant he was about the topic of murder. The man began to shout again but you were distracted by the large hand that grasped your shoulder. You turned slowly not surprised to see Charlie standing in front of you, his face disappointed. "You must want me to get fired" he whispered 

You smiled at him as your hand grabbed the doorknob. He moved to grasp your wrist but wasn't quick enough. The door was open and you both were stumbling in the large room. You watched as all eyes turned to you and Charlie, everyone clearly confused by your entrance. Well everyone but Tom, who had a mixture of worry and anger on his face.

It was that very moment that Tom knew he wouldn't be able to hide this from you. He watched as you looked around the room, embarrassment taking over your body, obviously unaware of what was being discussed. 

"I'm sorry" you said, your voice was small and you could feel your face heating up in embarrassment. Tom sighed, looking like he was having a small moral debate with himself. He lifted his hand motioning for you to come over. You slowly walked past the others in the room who were still staring at you in confusion. 

Tom pat his lap, signaling for you to sit. You did as you were told feeling more confident now that his arm was wrapped around your waist. "Listen Jimmy, it's not going to happen until you close all business ends with him. End of story now get out" Tom demanded. 

The man, who was actually younger than you'd imagined, sighed in acceptance and he nodded his head and quickly left with two men trailing behind him. "I'll deal with you later Charlie get out" Tom said with a tired voice as he rubbed his eyes.

You stared at him awkwardly not sure if you wanted to bring up the conversation you overheard. "Wandering around a large house like this can be dangerous" Tom said as he stared at you.

You bit your lip nervously not sure how to respond, "I'm sorry" you whispered staring tm down at the chain around him neck, "don't be mad at Charlie its not his fault"

"I'm not mad" Tom's fingers fiddled with the hem of your dress, "just happy you're safe". You chuckled, "you say that like there was some sort of danger in the house"

His lips went thin as he let out a deep breath. He looked at you, one hand rubbing you back the other gripping your chin, pulling you closer to him as he gave you a kiss. "I have to tell you something" 

"What's wrong?" He bit his lip nervously, "I've been lying about my job. I'm the leader of the biggest mafia in London" 

Your body froze with shock, not sure how to respond to that. "Um" you hesitated, "like Scarface?" He couldn't hide the smile forming on his face, he found your obliviousness adorable, "yes just like Scarface" 

You knew that the reasonable response would've been to run away and never speak to Tom again, but some part of you knew that Tom was still the man you loved no matter what he did. You just had to accept that you loved a dangerous and powerful man. You sighed, "well if we're telling secrets I'm a hard core criminal"

Tom stared at you in confusion, "what?" You chuckled, "yeah in high school I went through a hardcore shoplifting stage I can pretty much steal anything” You smiled as Tom’s laughter filled the room. “But seriously I don’t get why you lied, Mafia boss sounds kinda hot” 

“Sounds hot until you're dead because someone doesn’t like you” He said as he absentmindedly drew traced shapes on your thigh with his fingers. You rolled your eyes, “Don’t try and scare me away because it’s not gonna work”

“I’m just saying I don’t want you to get into something you regret” He whispered. You sighed, ���Tom will it calm you down if I told you I love you and I’m not going anywhere?” His eyes shot towards you, shock filling them. 

“Are you serious?” He asked. You chuckled, “yes now say it back before I start overthinking”. He let out a deep breath, moving you so you straddle his legs, “I love you” he whispered as he kissed your neck, “I love you so much”

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” You joked as your hips grinded against his. He paused reaching down to pull out the handgun from his waist, you laughed as he placed it on the table, “oh a gun” 

[maaaddiexo]

Too Late | T. Scamander

Mainlist | Serieslist

Theseus Scamander x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of death

-

It had been two months since that dreaded night in Paris. Where Queenie Goldstein and Credence crossed the threshold of blue fire and disappeared with Grindelwald into the night sky.

Two months since you’d smiled.

Two months since Leta.

Everyone at school had ostracized her. Everyone except you. The girls called her wicked; you called it getting even. They called her dangerous; you called her brave. They called her a lost cause; you called her worthy. You saw it that night in the cemetery, when she sacrificed herself for everyone else. You felt her loss that night and every day after that. Because after defeating the Fiendfyre dragon in the cemetery, everyone had searched out the others, reeling in the loss of someone. But you remained standing alone in the cemetery.

Forgotten.

Everyone had left, gathering back in Nicholas Flamel’s house, drinking tea and eating croissants while you wandered the streets of Paris for hours. Eventually, you apparated back to London, stumbling through the front door of your parent’s house. For two weeks, you stayed hidden beneath your covers, trying to ignore the grief of being forgotten by your friends and losing your best friend. Worst of all, you faced it all alone. 

Until Tina Goldstein appeared on your front porch holding a bouquet of white lilies in her hands with a timid smile. Everything crumbled that moment. You collapsed in the doorway, finally able to share your grief with someone after holding it in for so long.

Two months later, and Tina was still the only one to contact you. You hadn’t been particularly close before that night in late September, but you were now. She’d convinced you to leave your house once a day for a walk anywhere of your choosing and encouraged you to write about your friend, replacing the grief with love. What ended up happening was the two of you walking to a location of your choosing and you’d sit in silence for the most part, writing in your leatherbound journal – dark red because that was Leta’s favourite colour – and Tina keeping you company. It was winter now, and you were returning from an indoor garden thirty minutes away from your house. Tina was on assignment, but you’d promised to still leave the house while she was chasing down leads on Grindelwald.

Like always, the walk back to your parent’s house was quiet, your eyes were puffy, and your nose was running – both from the cold and from crying.

You were halfway down the street when you heard your mother’s voice carry through the air. “Like hell you’re entering this house.”

“Mrs. Y/LN-”

You looked up. A curly-haired boy was standing on your front porch, bundled in a wool coat with red cheeks. Newt Scamander. Your blood boiled and your heart stopped at the sight of him. Anger and grief rolled up in one messy ball. Where was Theseus, you couldn’t help but wonder.

“Don’t you dare knock on this door like you and your brother didn’t break my daughter’s heart, abandoning her in that cemetery up until today. Without a word! Get out of here. I don’t want to see either of you again.” The door slammed shut and Newt’s shoulder’s slumped and he carefully turned, walking down the stairs and then sitting on them, defeated.

You wanted to walk away – you didn’t want to talk to Newt. But it was starting to drizzle and the backyard was fenced in. If you wanted to enter your house, you’d have to pass by Newt. And you weren’t a bitch – you wouldn’t ignore him like he ignored you.

“Hello, Newt.”

The boy stood up – too quickly at that – and stumbled back, groaning when his back hit the lip of the stairs. You didn’t show any sympathy to the boy and moved past him. “You deserved that, y’know.”

“Y/N, wait. Please. Can we just talk?”

Angry tears welled in your eyes and you whipped around. Newt looked like a wounded puppy at the rage in your eyes. “You had two months to “just talk” to me. Nobody reached out to me after Leta – not you, not Theseus. And I get it – you were grieving. But guess what? So was I. I lost her too. And I had nobody. Nobody. The time for talking is over, Newt. Get off my steps.”

~

It was another two weeks until Leta’s birthday and Tina met you on your front porch with more white lilies. Together, you apparated to Paris and entered the Lestrange Mausoleum. Leta’s coffin was obviously empty, but it didn’t make seeing it any easier. Flowers had already been laid on the floor, but the room was empty. Tina placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll wait outside.”

“You don’t have to, T. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

Tina smiled. “I’ll wait. I won’t leave you.”

The words were comforting at first, but then a stab to the heart when she was gone. Theseus and Newt had left you without a second thought. You laid the flowers on the floor, feeling the tears spill onto your cheeks as you leaned forward. You touched her stone, running your fingers over the engraved words. Leta Lestrange. Beloved by all. Except she wasn’t beloved by all. It was just something people wrote, you guessed. 

“Hey, Leets. I, uh, I know what you did that day. I never got to say thank you for it. And, uh,” you blinked. You couldn’t see anything through your tears. “Those girls who called you wicked back at school? They were wrong. You were brave and selfless. And I’ll never forget it, Leets. Never.”

The smooth marble was cold against your forehead and your eyes burned. Salty tears slipped past your lips and onto your tongue. You were breathing heavily and yet no air reached your lungs. At least I’ll be with Leta, you thought. you didn’t know how long you stood there sobbing before you were finally interrupted.

“Y/N.” Theseus. His voice was hoarse and raspy – clear signs he’d been crying – but you still recognized it easily.

You looked at your shoes, sniffling. “Theseus.” His fingers brushed against yours but you pulled away. You’d been close once – two months ago, actually. Secret glances, fingers brushing, and sitting too close to each other at dinner. But that was all gone now. That all disappeared when he’d put himself far before you.

“I’m sorry for not reaching out sooner-”

“Don’t, Theseus. Not now. Not here.” At first, you hadn’t wanted to be angry with him – even though he left you alone in the cemetery. Him and Newt. But the anger started to grow after a week without contact. After three, you’d given up on giving him the benefit of the doubt and concluded that you weren’t worthy enough for a phone call. Two months later and he’d proven that. If you hadn’t come across each other here, he likely still wouldn’t have reached out.

Theseus rolled his lips and nodded, pocketing his hands. “You’re right. I’m sorry - for your loss, I mean. I know she was your best friend.”

You sucked in sharply, standing up straight. Those words hurt because they were so true. You gripped your red wool coat tightly and moved past Theseus. “I need to go.”

Tina was outside waiting for you, murmuring with Newt but stepped back when you ran out. It was raining now. Fitting, you supposed. Leta loved the rain. “You ready, Y/N/N?”

You nodded wordlessly and felt Theseus’ hand on shoulder. He spun you around. You were too numb to stop him. His eyes were glassy and sad. “I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything.”

You wanted to accept his apology and let him take you back to his house where you’d curl up in his favourite armchair and laugh with him and Newt and Tina, but you weren’t ready for that. Would you ever be? His actions created wounds that ran deep. You pushed his hand off your shoulder and stepped back. “Two months, too late, Theseus.”

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter Six

Chapter Six

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: slight smut** angst, spencer's overthinking and anxiety, passing out, plot twist, very understanding reader, happy ending, smut implied but not graphic

word count: 6.2K

from the beginning <3

Derek and Savannah planned to come over on Sunday morning to introduce Hank and Amoreena, his namesake and his honorary daughter meeting felt very important to him.

Y/N and he spent the morning cleaning up the house, making sure all the books were away and the coffee was on so when they pulled in at 11 for brunch they’d be ready.

Amoreena was beyond excited at the idea of a 16th cousin, not knowing about Henry or Michael yet either, bringing her total to 18 cousins.

Spencer learned something new about them and the farm every single day he was there. Which he expected, it had been 8 days and he was all but moved in. They joked just that morning about them moving too fast, shrugging it off and living their lives anyway.

Derek and Savannah were one of the sweetest couples Spencer knew. They had a love he admired, it also blossomed fast and stayed strong through everything Derek went through.

Derek was always going to be his rock, someone he loved deeply and cherished more than he could ever explain to anyone. More than a brother, a long-lost lover, a confidant, his best friend in the whole world. If he could live through everything he’s been through and still be happy, so could Spencer.

Amoreena is out the door and meeting them before Y/N and Spencer are even aware they pulled in. “Hey little lady, I’m your uncle Derek,” he can hear Derek’s sweet voice that he only uses with kids.

They walked out onto the porch to see Amoreena shaking both their hands before asking if Savannah needed help carrying her purse. Ever the little helper, she intended on making the best introduction to her new family members.

“Spence, this place is amazing!” Savannah gushed as she pulled him into a hug, and then Y/N, “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“You too! You’re all so pretty, holy cow,” she swoons, “what does the FBI put in the water over there?”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s running off over here too,” Spencer compliments Y/N right back.

Derek gives Y/N the biggest hug he’s ever seen, “you are my new bestie, anyone who loves Reid as much as me is a keeper.”

“I like this one, Savannah you have good taste,” Y/N teases, holding Derek in her embrace.

“We got the best guys the bureau had to offer and stole them away,” she laughed, wrapping an arm around Spencer as they turned to see Hank.

“Well, someone had to put them to good use,” Y/N had an arm wrapped around Derek too, slipping into Spencer’s life effortlessly.

Hank was almost 5, it blew Spencer’s mind to think that Derek had been a father for 5 years now. He was the sweetest little guy, holding Amoreena’s hand as the two of them walked up the stairs.

They had sandwiches and muffins in the garden, everything was homemade and grown on the farm. It was a life Spencer was excited to get used to, they even made their own cheese and wine in the summer for the farmers market.

Every time he learned a new detail about this place it got more perfect.

Hank loved the goats, he crawled right in with Amoreena and sat down in the mud. Petting the babies and letting all the mamma goats nibble at his hat as they got close. He giggled and screamed, petting all of them nicely as Amoreena told him all their names.

Derek was very quick to pick out a cowboy hat and pretend he was southern, trying out his fake accent and making Savannah laugh as they explored the farm, skipping through the fields and kissing in the grass. They were just as in love as Spencer and Y/N, they all got along like couples who have been friends since college.

Like this had been their life all along, nothing about it felt new. It just felt right.

Everything about her fit into his life like she was handcrafted for it, picked and polished before set in a box and hidden away from the world. She was a collector's item and he was a collector, keeping her close and never letting her go. He knew her worth, but the feeling she produced in his heart was better than anything in the world.

Before they know it, it’s almost 3 and Hank is about to fall asleep in the grass as Amoreena reads him a story. Derek and Savanah are laying back on a blanket half-listening as they watch the clouds. Spencer and Y/N doing the same.

It’s wonderful, he makes eye contact with Derek while running his fingers through Y/N’s hair. He just smiles at Spencer, prouder he can even express.

“I think it’s about time we head out,” Derek cuts into the peacefulness of their day.

“We’ll be back, and often,” Savannah laughs, “I’m going to hide here from the hospital, you don’t have service right?”

“Not if you turn it off and leave it in the car,” Y/N laughed too, pulling Savannah into a hug and walking with her towards the house. Best friends in the making, it was going to be trouble for him and Derek, exciting, but frightful at the same time.

Savannah excuses herself to the bathroom before they leave, Spencer offers to help Derek carry his tired little toddler to the car so they can talk. He was excited to hear Derek's thoughts about the day, proud of the life he could introduce them to.

“Can I ask you a serious question?” Derek finally cut into their quiet walk to the car with a very serious tone.

“Sure,” Spencer nodded vigorously, a little nervous.

“Do you remember when we lost that bet in 2008?” Derek started, “JJ and Emily were saying it wasn’t fair, that we were hogging all the sexiness and smarts and we should just donate sperm to help the population?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you actually do it?” Derek watches Spencer’s mind wandering as he recalls everything.

He has donated sperm twice in his life, keeping it between him and Derek the first time, telling no one about it the second time. The first was when JJ got pregnant with Henry, teasing him that he should make more geniuses in the world. Emily was even considering having a baby on her own back then before everything with Doyle went down.

The second time was after Maeve died in 2013 when he realized that he might not ever get to actually be a dad.

Donating again purely in the hopes that in 18 years someone would find him in search of a connection with their birth father. It seemed like the only way he’d be able to be a father one day, and that was right around the time Amoreena would have been conceived if she’s 7 now.

Spencer looks at him with wide eyes, “you think she’s mine?”

“Without a doubt,” he whispers, stopping to put Hank in his car seat and give Spencer some time to panic.

“She’s not mine,” Spencer keeps shaking his head, so hard that Derek is worried it might fall off as he panics, “she can’t be, that would be insane. No way, no I’m not even going to pretend she is. Nope.”

Derek places his hand on Spencer’s shoulder to calm him, “do you know who her father is?”

“No,” he whispers as he closes his eyes, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “She tells people that Amoreena is her fiancé Stephens, no one really questions that she had her 2 years after he died, but Y/N doesn’t even know who her father is.”

“That’s a serious conversation you need to have with her, regardless, she deserves to know you’ve possibly got other geniuses walking around out there.”

Spencer felt his anxiety dump adrenaline into his blood, making him sweat and panic as he turned around in circles a few times. He looked physically drained, not know what the fuck to do moving forward.

“I can’t go talk to her right now while Amoreena is there,” Spencer panicked as Derek finally closed the door, Hank was all situated and ready to go.

“I can bring you home?” Derek offered, “go get your things and tell her that you have to go.”

“Okay,” he whispered, trying to calm down enough to face her.

Walking back up to her house felt like it took forever, even passing savannah as he all but ran, stepping inside the house to see Amoreena reading on the couch while Y/N was in the kitchen, whistling happily, waiting for him to come back.

Amoreena looked up at him with a smile, “are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” he lied with a fake smile. “I actually have to go, Derek needs help with something at his place and I’ll be back later for dinner, okay?”

“Awe,” Y/N’s voice travelled from the kitchen to where he was, she walked into the room with an apron on and a towel in her hands. “I was hoping you’d help me make a pie.”

“I’m sorry, hun, I’ll be back soon,” he assured her, “I love you guys.”

“Love you, Dad,” Amoreena smiled, before returning to her book.

Every time she called him dad it made his heart stop, but that one made his breathing stop too, he struggled to swallow as he turned his attention to Y/N approaching him.

Y/N gave him a big hug and then he was gone, running down the driveway and hopping in Derek's car as fast as he could. Still overthinking everything, his mind memorizing every look on Amoreena’s face and trying to see if there was any proof in her being his.

There was a lot. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, he didn’t want to think about that at all. She was his regardless, no DNA test would change how he loved her. He was more afraid of Y/N’s reaction to finding out.

Savannah didn’t ask what was going on, leaving him and Derek to be as weird and cryptic as they always were together. Looking out the window quietly as Spencer had a panic attack in the back seat.

He convinced Derek to drop him off at the clinic where he donated the sperm both times. Still absolutely pissed off with himself that one of the biggest decisions of his life was the one he forgot about, wanting to know if he could find out anything about his potential offspring.

“Sir, I’m so sorry,” the nice receptionist tried her best to stay calm as Spencer rushed through his dilemma.

“Only a child can learn who their father was when they turn 18, if they choose to contact you it’s up to them. You agreed to that when you donated.”

“You can’t even tell me how many kids I have out there?” He tried to reason with her, “I’m in the FBI surely you can make an exception for me it’s not like I'm going to stalk the kids, I just want to know if one’s going to contact me one day,” he tried everything to get her to open up.

“What’s your name?”

“Spencer Reid.”

She stood and walked into the back, opening a cabinet full of records and pulling one out. She opened it, running a finger along with the document as she read it over.

“You have four offspring so far, none of the other samples used have produced a child, the women were all IVF as well so it wasn’t your swimmer's fault; if you wanted to donate again,” she read him all the facts and somehow it just made him panic more.

Y/N’s voice echoing in his mind, “after I did IVF.” She said those words. He heard them. She didn’t know the father. His name wasn't on the sample. It was anonymous. Everything caught up to him at that moment.

“Thank you,” he whispered, white as a ghost as he tried to turn away, dropping to the floor and passing out instead.

When he woke up, he was somehow back in Derek’s car on the way back to his apartment. Hank and Savannah nowhere to be seen, the radio on low as Derek paid attention to the road. It was quiet, he didn’t even know Spencer was awake again until he sighed.

He didn’t say anything to Derek, instead, taking out his phone and texting Y/N.

Spencer: Hey, something serious came up. I won't be able to come back till after bedtime and then I need to tell you something important that might make you very mad at me.

Y/N: you’re going to make me go grey being this ominous

Spencer: I’m sorry, but it’s going to be a lot to explain.

Y/N: should I get wine or something harder ready to listen?

Spencer: Honestly, I’m not even sure yet.

Y/N: cant wait… love you?

Spencer: I love you too, don’t forget that!

Y/N: as long as you don’t either ♥︎

—

He pulled up to Y/N’s house at 9:30, knowing that Amoreena would be well asleep by then. Unbothered by any crying or yelling that could arise from the news he had to share with her mother.

He was terrified to tell her but he needed to. Relationships only work with communication and he knew that, respecting her and loving her enough to do anything in his power to keep her in his life.

He walked inside to see the lights all off, heading around the back of the house to see her in the garden with a drink, surrounded by little lights twinkling as she listened to her favourite Taylor Swift album, he wasn’t shocked in the slightest to find her like that.

“Hey,” he announced himself to her so she wouldn’t be startled.

Her smile warms his heart and clears the butterflies from his stomach for a quick moment, “hey cutie, did you want me to warm up some dinner for you?”

“No thank you,” he shook his head softly, standing by the gate and not wanting to get too close. “I need to tell you something and you might get really mad at me.”

“Alright,” she sat up straighter, hands on her knees as she played with the material of her jeans.

“I donated sperm as a joke in 2008, but then again in January of 2013 when my girlfriend died because I thought it would be the only way to maybe have a kid find me one day when they turned 18. I never thought I’d get to have a family after Maeve died,” the words fell out of his mouth and onto the patio.

“Oh my god,” was all she said, eyes wide and mouth open, she was completely still.

“I went to the clinic and they won't tell me who my kids are, apparently there are four of them so I have no idea if it’s Amoreena or not and I’m just so sorry for not telling you. I honestly forgot, and I don’t normally forget. After everything that’s happened to me, I just forgot, I’m sure it looks like I found you on purpose or something but I assure you that I didn’t,” he wasn’t sure why he was just dumping all these thoughts on her when he hadn’t even thought them through, but they wouldn’t stop.

“There’s only one way to find out,” she shrugged then, smiling at his confused face. “We have more and see if they look like her.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No,” she shook her head, “I’d never joke about making another Amoreena, that would be amazing.”

“You’re not mad?” He blinked at her a few times, wondering if he heard her wrong, twice.

“Why would I be mad at the fact that you might be her real father and the reason she’s the smartest person on earth? She’s literal walking sunshine, am I supposed to be mad you could give her fully biological siblings? I wanted your babies even if she wasn’t yours,” Y/N paused, eyebrows raised as she made her point.

“If I’m supposed to be mad about you completing our family then I’m furious,” she laughed as she stood up, walking over to wrap her arms around him.

“Even if you’re not her father, you’re always going to be her dad,” she whispered as she reached him.

He looked down into her eyes, the most beautiful and caring woman in the world, cuddled into his chest in the middle of paradise. He couldn’t help but laugh, it was insane how easy it was to love her.

“I love you,” he reminded her.

She pulled him down into a kiss, holding her hand on his cheek lightly as he pressed his lips to hers. She rested her forehead on his as they parted, “I love you more.”

“Doubt it,” he teased her with a smile, pulling her in closer and lifting her up into his arms.

“Where are we going?” She giggled.

“Where would you like to go, Princess? This is your kingdom after all.”

The biggest, most suspicious grin appeared on her face then, “put me down,” she instructed and he followed. Setting her down and feeling her grab his hand instead.

She led him inside the house and up the stairs, placing her finger over her lip to let him know to be quiet. She pulled him inside her bedroom for the first time and he was absolutely mesmerized.

It was like a jungle of books in there, pictures of her and Amoreena all over the walls and the cutest mushroom bedsheets in the world. It was like he walked into her mind, it was calming and beautiful and just what he imagined.

Peaceful.

“We’re not staying in here,” she whispered towards him, pulling him into the closet.

She pulls out 2 black garment bags and places them on the bed before looking through her jewellery box. She brings back a small velvet box and places it in his hands.

“Would you want to do something insane with me?”

“Always,” he can’t help but smile.

“My grandma always wanted Stephen to propose to me with that ring, but he used his own mothers instead,” she whispered. “I don’t want to have an official thing, I already planned one wedding and never got to have it.”

“Okay?” He tried his best to follow along, analyzing her facial expressions to see just how nervous she was, as well as the underlying sadness of time missed. Just like she had mentioned that first night he stayed here.

“I had my grandma’s dress tailored to wear at my wedding, I’ve never put the final version on,” she unzips the one bag, revealing a silk white dress with an incredibly long train.

“My grandpa's suit is in the other one, I think you will fit into it,” she reaches out a hand to pull him closer to the bed and look at it with her. “I just want to put them on and tell you I love you in the field and just call you my husband. I don’t give a single shit that it’s been a week, why should I wait a year to call you that when I can start now?”

He doesn’t know what to say, he’s speechless for too long and he knows that it’s making her anxious but he can’t speak. His eyes turn glossy and his hands shake as he holds the small box in his hands, opening it to find a beautiful ruby on a gold band, surrounded by small diamonds, alongside her grandfather's gold band.

He gets down on one knee then and she pulls him right back up to his feet, shaking her head. “It can’t be like last time, I don’t want to repeat a single part of it. I can’t lose you too.”

“You never will,” he’s finally able to speak. “I’m not going anywhere, believe me, you are the most important person in my life. I would drop everything and hide here forever to keep safe, if you wanted me to, I’m too in love with you to go anywhere.”

She smiles at him with wide eyes and the glimmer of hope returning. She picks up her dress and heads to the bathroom door, “put the suit on and meet me downstairs?”

“Yes Ma’am,” he winks at her before taking the suit down the hall to his room.

He notices the wedding photo on the night table again, taking the suit out of the bag to see nothing really changed since the last time it was worn. Her grandfather was tall and skinny like him when they got married, so he fits into the 1950’s suit almost perfectly.

He straightened everything out in the mirror, making sure he tucked the ring box back into his pocket before quietly tiptoeing back down the creaky wooden steps.

Y/N wasn’t done yet, he could hear her walking around in her room softly as she paced from her dresser to the bathroom over and over, most likely trying to find something in her jewellery box and looking in the mirror more than once. She didn’t sound nervous, her feet weren’t hesitant, she sounded like a woman on a mission, that was a good thing.

He was the nervous one, scared out of his mind with the fear he wouldn’t do this right. That she had dreams, plans and expectations he needed to live up to and what if he couldn’t? He put his face in his hands and tried his best to push all the fears away but they kept swirling. Making his brain hurt, he didn’t want to fuck anything up with her. She was already so understanding and wonderful, she’d given so much to him already he can’t fuck this up—

And then she’s walking down the stairs. Like sunshine; parting the grey skies as the thunder clouds dissipate and the rain washes down the streets, he’s fine again.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers.

Her smile was priceless, “thanks, cutie, I’m so glad it fits you!”

He followed her towards the kitchen where she picked up the phone, dialled a number and waited, “hey mom.”

“Spencer and I are going on a late-night walk, outback, yeah, Amoreena is asleep, can you just keep an eye on the house? I’m going to let Rufus in to keep guard anyway,” Y/N explained over the phone, agreeing and humming to whatever her mother said in response. “love you too, thanks."

She let the dog in like she said she would, handing the overly friendly golden retriever a treat before finally pulling Spencer outside and towards the barn.

They were both in running shoes, it was incredibly adorable for the occasion and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Her hand was so soft as she tugged him along behind her, her dress and hair blowing in the wind as they walked.

She grabbed an old kerosene lantern from the barn, lighting it quickly and holding it by the handle, “you ready?”

“I am,” he smiled softly, still anxious in his core, more so now because he was overly excited to be spending the rest of his life with her.

They continued to walk down past the barn, through the cow pasture and finally entering a clearing. It was full of lilacs and ragweed, yellows and purples blowing ever so gently back and forth under the moonlight.

“This is where my grandparents would read to me, and where they renewed their vows when I was 14, and this is where I got the call that I was pregnant with Amoreena. It’s a very special place to me,” her voice was barely a whisper.

Spencer took the lantern from her and placed it in the grass, it illuminated the both of them just enough that they could see each other's faces and know exactly how much they loved each other without even having to say any words.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Spencer’s words were careful, he didn’t want her to think he didn’t either.

She nodded softly, “I loved Stephen very much, I don’t think I’ll ever stop, but I loved him enough to know he’d want me to be happy, he’d really like you and don’t tell him this but I think I love you more than I ever loved him,” she made light of a very heavy subject.

Smiling at him like he was the world, he fully believed her. “I thought Maeve as it for me too before she died, I was so, so wrong. Every day I discover a new level of love for you I didn’t think possible the day before, I never want to stop searching for how deep my love for you goes.”

“To new adventures,” she whispered.

“And happy endings,” he replied, remembering the conversation they had about the Disney characters they loved the most just yesterday morning.

He removed the box from his pocket, opening it and taking her ring out of the fabric. The tiny diamonds around the ruby sparked in the light, shining little rainbows over their faces as they smiled at each other once again, cheeks aching from all the happiness.

“What finger do you want to wear it on? Seeing as we’re doing this our way,” he compromised for her very easily.

“The middle one on my left hand, you?” She asked as she took his ring out as well.

“The ring finger,” he whispered. “I want you to be close to my heart forever.”

“Okay,” she whispered back, pushing the ring onto his finger first before placing her hand in his, waiting for his hands to stop shaking so he could put it on her.

He pushed it right back towards the knuckle, holding her hand in his after and just staring at the ring. He just married the woman of his dreams.

“Holy shit,” he whispered to himself, making her laugh.

“What?”

A tear trickled down his cheek as he tried to smile at her, his jaw wobbling as he tried to stay calm but he couldn’t, he let himself cry softly as she cupped his face with her free hand.

“I love you too, Spencer,” is all she said, pressing her lips to his, finally.

He held her there in his embrace, lips touching as they breathed each other in. The smell of the field and the flowers that were once so strong in his nose, now he only smells her perfume, he almost forgets where he is as they kiss. The world could have stopped and he wouldn’t have ever known, too caught up on loving her.

He doesn’t pull away when the kiss breaks, instead, resting their foreheads together as they breathed.

“I’m going to love you until the day I die.”

She brushes their noses together softly as if to agree, “give me at least 40 years with you, and then I’ll meet you in heaven?”

“We’re already here,” he whispers, “you and Amoreena are my angels.”

They kissed again, just as soft and perfect as before. She smiled at the end, pulling back and taking her cellphone out of the dress pocket that he didn’t even know was there.

She set it on the fence post that separated the cows from the field, making sure it was steady and setting a timer. She rushed to Spencer and pulled him back into the same kiss, letting the phone take a burst of photos for them to remember later on.

“Pick a song,” he whispered into the moment, seeing her face scrunch as she became confused. “We need a first dance, I know your grandparents had to have danced out here at least once if she loved music as much as you say she did.”

“I love you,” is all she can say as she beams a smile at him. Skipping over to her phone and doing just as he asked.

“I need a piece of Amoreena in this moment,” she explained her song choice, making him think it would be the Elton John song, but it wasn’t.

A beautiful piano balled played before he heard the all too familiar voice of Taylor Swift, the girl's favourite. “Seven, because that’s how many years it took for us to find you.”

He takes her hand again, twirling her around before pulling her body into his. The both of them holding on tight as they swayed to the song, it fit every single aspect of his love for her to a T. Like it was Taylor made for them.

“Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Your braids make a pattern Love you to the Moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long,”

It was so unbelievable. She had mentioned the love she felt for Stephen, he mentioned his love for Maeve, both of their faces hard to bring to memory as they fell in love with each other. A new feeling, a happier love, a long-lasting one that wasn’t nearly as flimsy. Powerful and strong like the earth's gravitational pull, he was never leaving her.

She’s singing the words ever so softly beside his ear, her voice is softer than Taylor’s and his favourite thing he’s heard all night, but he’d never tell her that.

They kiss randomly throughout their dance, listening to more songs as they swayed in the evening breeze. The cows coming to the fence to see what was happening, they twirled and dipped and jumped with each other, it was perfect.

She pulls him in for another kiss and she is all giggles, high from the dopamine and serotonin rush they were both on. Like someone injected sugar right into his veins, he was unbelievably sweet on her.

“We’re you serious?” Spencer whispered against her lips before she can pull back any further and disrupt the courage he felt.

“About what? I’ve said a lot tonight,” she teased him gently.

“About having more kids?” His voice is low and his eyes can’t meet hers as he prays she was being honest.

She nods softly, “never been more certain, actually, I would have 10 more of your kids if they’re all as perfect as our Amoreena.”

Our.

He tilts his head to the side and presses his lips together in a tight smile, he lost all control of his tears a while back, feeling them slip down his cheeks as he took everything in. She had given him everything and then some.

“How are you this perfect? It’s been 8 days since I laid eyes on you and you’ve managed to make every single dream come true, while simultaneously creating new dreams I never imagined I’d be allowed to have. You’re the best thing that has ever happened in the world Y/N, I’m so incredibly in love with you I could scream right now,” he is more passionate than he plans to be, she stares at him with more lust than happiness this time.

“Prove it and make love to me, you said you’d rather fuck me at home. Well,” she kept teasing him opening her arms and twirling around as she showed off the farm. “This is your home now, husband.”

“Where should we go?” He felt adventurous, willing to take her against the fence if the cows wouldn’t eat her hair, the thought alone making him giggle to himself.

“What?” She can't help but giggle right back.

“I thought about fucking you against the fence for a hot second and then the intrusive thoughts kicked in and I thought about the cows eating your hair,” he admitted with a fierce laugh.

“I love you so much,” she shook her head and sighed, the same way she did at the museum when Amoreena made her laugh.

That was all the proof he needed. Never would he question how she felt, if she loved him half as much as she loved Amoreena then he was blessed by far. This was over the top.

He picked up the lantern then, handing it to her as well as her phone before picking her up bridal style and attempting to carry her back to the house. He made it to the barn before she begged him to put her down, wanting to skip the rest of the way with him.

Giddy as all hell, the two of them snuck back into her house. Rufus, the best guard dog in the world, was passed out on the couch and didn’t even move as they walked in. Locking the doors and windows for the night before tiptoeing up the stairs again.

Luckily, Amoreena’s room was on the opposite side of the house from Spencers. Y/N pulled him down the hall and inside the room, lightly closing the door before leaning back against it and sighing.

“Are you sure? I never asked you what you wanted,” Y/N whispered.

Spencer just shook his head and slipped out of his suit jacket. “All I want is to have a big happy family with you, where ever that takes us, I’m up for the adventure.”

Y/N was the one who teared up this time, looking away from Spencer and at her grandparent's wedding photo on the side table. She walked past Spencer, brushing her hand against his arm as she did so, picking up the photo and kissing it softly.

She turned it face down and turned back to Spencer, “help me with the zipper?”

He nodded, silently stepping forward and brushing her hair off her back, freeing her from the dress. He pressed his lips gently to her sun-kissed shoulders, surprised by the array of freckles, kissing the pattern they made on her skin as she let the dress slip to the floor.

He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind as he continued to kiss her neck and shoulder. She hummed into the feeling, tilting her head to the side so he had more room to explore, her hands cover Spencers as she felt up his arms, still in his embrace.

She had the softest skin on earth, he could spend the next 14 hours kissing every square inch of her. It was all perfect and he wanted her to know it, “get on the bed,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled away.

He picked her dress up off the floor and put it on a hanger from the shirt he had on. She watched with soft eyes as he hung it on the back of the bathroom door, keeping it safe and taken care of while they became a married couple.

He slipped out of the tie and started unbuttoning his shirt, she laid back against the covers, pulling her grandma's quilt off and folding it at the end of the bed. She laid back and waited as he slipped his pants to the ground and finally joined her once again.

She met him halfway for a kiss, holding his face as he knelt between her spread legs, she leaned back and took him with her. He hovered then, barely touching her as she leaned forward to keep kissing him, eventually wrapping her arms around his back and pulling him down.

Skin to skin for the first time ever.

It’s slow and explorative, they take their time as they enjoy every single inch of each other's bodies. She’s soft and perfect, she fits in the palm of his hand like he’s always been holding her. Moulded for her and her alone.

He’s never made love before. Sure, he’s had sex but never in his life has it felt like this… no, this was perfect. It was everything he’s ever dreamed of and then some. Her kisses felt like dreams coming true, her touch so light it was like sunshine on a hot day, just dancing over him.

It was perfect.

He brushed her hair behind her ear, still inside her, as he took a moment to just look at her. Her eyes were hypnotic, he was so dawn into her it was like she controlled him. He kissed her gently on the forehead, “I love you,” he reminded her, for the millionth time that hour.

She pulled him in closer, breathing against his neck gently as they continued. Her nails on his back were amazing, he felt the sharp pain of her grip which only excited him more, fastening his pace, both his hips and where his thumb was pleasuring her between their bodies.

She looked like she was floating, relaxed as she laid against the sheets, blissed-out while she took it all in, panting airy nonsense as she got closer and closer.

She was quiet, they both were. It was silent as possible while they made love for the first time ever. She was everything in the world to him and then some, he couldn’t believe she was real as they both finished and managed to somehow get closer to each other.

Another level of love was just unlocked in his heart, he was never going to stop loving her. That would be the only impossible known to man.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Battle Scars and Wedding Rings // H.P.

Request: Hi lovely! Would you be able to write a harry potter x reader where reader is a healer and takes care of Harry after he comes back home injured from a mission? (Harry and reader are married) thanks in advance! I love your fics so much 💕 - anon 

A/N: God, I love writing healer fics. I love writing healing fics. I’m so happy with how this turned out, I haven't written anything this long in a while so it makes a nice change. I hope you like!

Warnings: mentions of injuries, mentions of procedures and hospitals she/her pronouns, use of ‘wife’ and ‘woman’. FLUFF AND COMFORT FOR OUR MAN, HARRY.

Word count: 4.1k

Harry blinks up at the fluorescent light dizzily; a headache starting to form behind his eyes. Gingerly, he reaches up and removes his glasses, rubbing at his eyes to see if that improves his vision.

It doesn’t. If anything, it makes it worse.

He groans as the pounding in his head becomes worse. Now, he can hear his pulse sounding in his ears and he wonders briefly how to silence it. He’s a wizard who in his teens conquered the darkest wizard to have ever roamed the earth, yet right now, he can’t seem to remember a simply numbing spell to ease the effects of his headache.

Harry flinches as the curtain to his exam room is pulled back, but he relaxes the moment he hears your voice. “Love?” You ask, “Is this why you couldn’t make it home for dinner?”

Harry groans as he pulls himself to a sitting position; pausing partway to stave off the wave of dizziness overtaking him. He hadn’t felt this bad since he fell off his broom in Third Year; waking up in the hospital wing of Hogwarts with little to no recollection of the match and his injury.

You titter as you rush over to him; forming incomplete words as you help him sit up. Gently, you run a hand through his too long hair, dropping a kiss to the forever messy locks.

“How are you feeling?”

Harry sighs, “Malfoy checked me over. I have a concussion and a few broken ribs. Looks like I’m taking it easy for the next few weeks.”

You frown, “Did Draco leave your x-rays?”

Harry nods, not seeing the point in fighting with you. He knew Draco knew his stuff; he also knew that you knew Draco was far more than qualified for his job in the emergency room, but as a Healer yourself and someone in love with the patient, you saw it fit to check out the scans yourself.

You hold his x-rays up to the lightbox, inhaling deeply when you see the breaks in three ribs on his right and two ribs on his left. Clamping your lips against the wave of tears that threaten to appear, you turn to your husband, “Do I want to know what happened this time?”

Harry shakes his head, but he answers all the same, unable to keep anything from you, “A damned raid went wrong. I got blown back against a wall; hit my head and felt my ribs crack.”

You hold your hand to your mouth; worry alight in your eyes. “You’re not in pain anywhere else?” You ask; your Healer hat on for the time being until you’re at home and in private where you can let yourself feel the near loss of your husband without the prying eyes and ears of your colleagues and patients.

“No, just my head and ribs,” He replies wincing at the pain growing ever larger inside of his head.

Panic settles over his for just a moment; it’s been years since he felt this sort of pain. It’s been years since his head had hurt so bad that he wondered whether the faded scar on his forehead was truly coming back to life. He rushes the very thought from his mind; instead, honing his attention back in on your worried but loving face.

It wasn’t the first time you had been called away from home or a patient to see to him, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. However, with each call, you get more worried. The little voice in the back of your head taunts you with questions of which injury will finally be the one to make him stop; which injury will be the one that finally comes too close to taking him from you for good.

You had already experienced the numb sensation of what losing Harry would feel like. You were there that day when the Dark Lord had his body carried into the courtyard for the remaining student body and teachers of Hogwarts to see. You watched as the twisted wizard gleefully declared his death.

You could never forget the numbness that settled over you like a weighted blanket. Never in your days had you experienced a feeling like it, and with Harry’s risky choice in profession, you could only pray to Merlin that you would never feel it again. It would be too soon; it would always be too soon.

Your attention comes back to the small exam room at the feel of Harry’s hand on yours. He watches you with a quizzical expression, “Where did you go just now?”

You shake your head, “Nowhere of importance.”

He brings your left hand up to his lips; kissing the finger upon which a golden band sat, “Everything you do and everywhere you go is of importance to me.”

You roll your eyes with a smile; stepping closer to your husband, “Don’t try to get on my good side, Potter. I’m still pissed at you.”

Harry huffs a laugh before stopping abruptly at the pain lancing through both sides of his body. He smiles weakly, “You have every right to be pissed, but can you be pissed off at home? I really want to go to bed.”

Fondness for the man in front of you rushes through your body. You caress his cheek; your thumb brushing over his cheekbone, taking in the scratches that litter his face. A consequence of hitting the ground. You smile softly at him, “Let’s go home, Harry.”

-----

You decide against apparition. The swiftness of it would be too much pressure on Harry’s ribs and any further injury was something he, and your sanity, could not afford.

Instead, you wander slowly to the tube, helping Harry down the stairs to the platform and giving him the only empty seat on the carriage. He begins to protest – ever the gentleman – but a stern look from you has his argument dying on his tongue.

He remains quiet on the ride home; his mind caught in his earlier panic. Truthfully, he’s had two panics tonight. One in the exam room when the pain in his head started to become too much for him to manage, and two, earlier when he was blown back against a wall and started to lose consciousness. His only thought in those final few moments before darkness descended was of you – your eyes, your smile, your kiss. They were all of you.

When he came too in the emergency room with Draco Malfoy sitting in the corner of the room, he wondered briefly whether this was it. However, soothing words from the friend he once considered an enemy had him calming down enough for his ribs to stop screaming in agony.

The fresh air helps as the two of you walk from the tube station home. The summer evening air helping him take deeper breaths as he inhales the heady floral scents coming from the numerous gardens lining their street.

He keeps a hand on his right side as he steps up to the front door. Harry watches you rifle in your bag for your keys; thinking that your bag reminds him of the one Hermione charmed in their Seventh Year. You flash Harry a wide, triumphant smile as you pull the set of keys from your bag. The keyrings clink together as you unlock the front door and sigh, turning to him, barring him from entry for one moment.

You look him up and down, “What do you want to do? Bed or couch?”

Harry glances inside the house; his eyes flicker to the stairs and then to the living room door. He sighs painfully as he answers, “Bed, please.”

You nod, smiling reassuringly as the man you have loved since you were sixteen. You hold your hand out to him which he takes gratefully. “Bed it is,” You smile.

It’s slow going; pausing every two or three steps for Harry to catch his breath and to ride out the wave of pain that brings it with nausea and dizziness. You walk behind him; your hands at the ready should you need to catch him if he should trip or fall backwards.

Harry takes a seat on the edge of your shared bed; a pained expression leeching all colour from his face.

“I take it you don’t want the bath I’m about to offer?” You ask; hands on your hips as you take in the pale face of your husband.

He shakes his head wordlessly; apologies written in his green eyes.

You frown as you wander over to his dresser, pulling out the comfiest pieces of clothing he owns as well as a shirt for yourself. Quickly, you change out of your shirt and throw Harry’s on; the familiar and welcoming scent of broom oil and sweet orange washing over you.

Turning back to your injured husband, you find him watching you with a faint blush on his face. Harry’s pain forgotten for an instant as he watched you change into his clothing; it was his weakness, seeing you in his shirt or his jumper. He loved how his clothing melded itself to your every dip and curve; he adored the feel of the material against your skin when he slid the hem of shirt that little bit higher on your waist.

You hold up the items of clothing; letting Harry inspect them before wandering back to bed where he sits patiently waiting. He nods at your choices; not overly fussed as to what he’s going to be dressed in to sleep so long as he’s comfy.

“Lift your arms as high as they can go, and I’ll do the rest.”

Harry does so; lifting his arms to the point where his ribs begin to scream for mercy. He hates the fact that his bottom lip begins to wibble form the effort, but he’s had enough broken bones and other injuries to warrant a wobbly bottom lip should he want to.

Dark purple bruises litter both sides of his body; they spread to his back and you can’t help but feel sick at the sight of them. As you peel off his work shirt, you think back to the month leading up to your wedding where the majority of the time was spent in deliberation over your vows. You had written all what you wanted to say; covered all what you felt for the Boy Who Lived and yet you still had one more vow to make. It was a vow of protection; to keep him from harm a soften as you do. It didn’t help that he had chosen to train in one of the riskiest professions within the wizarding world, but as you were training to become aa Healer, you never gave it much thought.

Now, years down the line, you couldn’t help but wonder whether your vow of protection had been faulty. The voice of doubt within your head pestering you about it until you finally snap back at it; claiming that no, it was you who nursed him back to health after any injury and it was you who waited up at night for him to return from a mission. If that wasn’t a spell of protection, you didn’t know what was.

Fighting back tears, you reach for the t-shirt you had discarded the moment you reached Harry’s side. With some adjusting, you slide the t-shirt over his head and help pull his arms through the holes before settling it over his bruised and battered body. After that, you have him stand for a minute so you can pull of his trousers and help him stand into his joggers. By the time, he’s out of breath and squeezing his eyes shut from the pain.

However, he doesn’t miss how your breathing hitches and your hands falter on the fastenings of his joggers. He doesn’t miss the silver lining your eyes and the slight wobble to your bottom lip.  

“Hey,” Harry starts; voice quiet and full of love, “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head; letting a single sob leave your mouth as you fold up his work clothes, making a mental note to throw them in the washing box. A hand on your arm has you stopping this action. You meet his eyes; seeing nothing but love and concern for your welfare.

You want to laugh, because of course. Of course with a concussion and five broken ribs, Harry’s concerned about you; about how you’re feeling.

In an equally concerned voice, Harry repeats his question, “Love, what’s wrong?”

In a fit of helplessness, you gesture to his entire body to which he responds by furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m going to need more than that,” He prompts; smile wane.

“I just,” You start; pausing for breath and to think of the words, “I didn’t expect to see you so bruised. You’ve been injured before and I’ve healed you before but seeing the extent of your bruising just makes it all the more real.”

“Love…” Harry whispers, patting the empty bed next to him.

Sniffling, you sit next to him gingerly, careful not to jostle him too much for the fear of exacerbating his wounds. “Have you ever thought of stepping back from the missions?”

“Darling…” Harry starts, comfort already resounding in his voice, “This is what I’m trained for.”

You sniffle, fiddling with your fingers, “I know that, I do, but I can’t help but be worried each time you tell me you’re going on a mission.”

Harry sighs; turning his head slightly to press a kiss to your temple, “If we look on the bright side, this has the been the worst injury I’ve had for months.”

You groan, “You’ve jinxed us now, love.”

Harry laughs; stopping abruptly at the lance of pain in his right side, “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

You hum, “We’ve been through worse.”

“We’ve been through worse,” Harry echoes; the very words that had become a mantra through your marriage and each injury. Whenever it seemed bad; whenever the dark cloud of grief or sadness loomed, you reminded each other, you’ve been through worse and survived – so why should this time be any different?

You shake your head; swiping away the freshly fallen tears and plaster a smile on your face. You lean over, gently placing a kiss on Harry’s cheek before saying, “I have an idea.”

He raises an eyebrow intrigued at your words.

“How about I go make us some hot water bottles? Then we don’t need to worry about too much jostling in the night to get warm,” You suggest; eyes darting between the scratches on his face to the way he holds himself up on the bed. Heat would help relax the muscles that are surely to get stiff overnight and will help distract him from any pain that flares up as he sleeps.

Harry nods; a small smile on his lips as he answers, “I could go for a hot water bottle right now, but don’t take too long, please?”

You raise an eyebrow, “Why? Got big plans for me, Potter?”

Harry smirks, patting the bed. His humour still alive despite the pain, “Massive plans and they all involve this bed.”

You cackle as you head towards the door, practically singing your reply, “I’ll try not to be too long then.”

You’re gone for a few minutes. Harry uses this time to think back over the long and winding course of your relationship.

He remembers being seventeen years old, in love and terrified. He remembers stuttering through his explanation as to why he couldn’t love you the way he wanted to right now.

He thought that that would have been the end of this; you would wash your hands of him then and there, but instead you kissed him. You kissed him and made him promise to return to you in one piece.

A promise he barely kept; a promise he barely keeps today, he now thinks as he glances down at his aching body.

Harry thinks of after the war; of how you chose healing as your discipline after seeing the dead and injured lined up in the Great Hall. The stark contrast between the groans of the wounded and silence of the dead something that has stayed with the both of you since.

He thinks of how he almost proposed to you then and there. Covered in blood and dust, barely eighteen, but he’s happy that he chose to wait. He’s happy he had the two years with you before getting down on one knee and asking for your hand.

You re-enter the room with two heavily filled hot water bottles; each are wrapped in towels to keep from burning your feet as the both of you shuffle towards each other instinctively throughout the night.

You smile peacefully at Harry as you slide the hot water bottles into each side of the bed; Harry can tell that you’ve used this time to collect yourself. To have that moment you need after each injury to process what had happened and just how to move forward.

Harry knew all too well how much you hated seeing him hurt; after all, he felt the same way with you when you let a particular patient and their case get to you over the course of your shift. Harry doesn’t like to see you hurting over something you know you can fix.

It’s a balance that you both play off; that was how your marriage worked. You both took from the other but gave back just as much, if not more. Harry can’t think of a simple thing he wouldn’t do for you; he’s already won a war to not only save the wizarding world, but to love you without fear of a target on your back.

You pull the quilt back into place; patting the spot where the hot water bottles now lay, warming up the ends of the bed to stave off cold feet through the night. You make your way back to your husband; watching him with tired eyes, but eyes still filled with the same amount of love and adoration as there was at seventeen years old.

Running a hand through his hair, you glance at the clock on your bedside table and ask, “Do you remember what time you had a pain potion?”

Harry pushes his head into your hand; desperate to keep the contact between you two, “Long enough to need another.”

You nod your head; dipping slightly to brush your lips against his before rushing to the bathroom. Harry smiles like a fool in love as he brings a hand to his mouth whilst listening to your rifle around in the bathroom, opening drawers and cupboards looking for a pain potion.

Harry supposes he is a fool in love. He has been since he was seventeen years old and watching you from afar in the Great Hall at meal times. He’s been a fool for you for so long that he knows no other form, nor does he desire to know.

“Ha!” You shout from the bathroom; dancing into the bedroom with the familiar shaped bottle of pain potion in your hand with a small measuring cup in the other. Carefully, with a trained eye, you pour out the right amount before handing it to Harry.

Harry grimaces as he down the potion; immediately feeling its effects. The pain potion had been around for centuries, and yet, no witch or wizard had been able to find a cure for the acrid lingering aftertaste.

“How does that feel?” You ask; placing the dark blue glass bottle on the bedside table by Harry’s side, knowing he would need more through the night and wanting close by.

Harry takes a breath, enjoying the painlessness of it. He smiles at you, “Good, for now.”

You grin at him, “So good that you think you could manage getting into bed?”

Harry chuckles, “Broken ribs will not stop me from sleeping by my wife. Not now, not ever.”

You bite your lip against the wave of adoration that washes over you. There were times in your relationship and then your marriage where the simplest things said by Harry nearly always turned out to be what you cherished most. You know that he most likely didn’t think twice before saying what he said, but those words settle into your heart, making a home there for you to pull out and revisit should you ever feel low. Simple words that leave your husband’s mouth but affect you so much.

You hold your hands for him to take which he does. You take bis weight as he pulls himself up, standing, pressed against you. Harry takes this opportunity to draw you into a longer kiss; a languid kiss that has you dropping his hands in favour for winding them around his neck to tug him closer. However, right at the last minute, you remember his broken ribs and you pull back with a sigh.

You caress his cheek, “I know what you were trying to do, Potter, and it isn’t working tonight.”

Harry smiles cheekily; the pain potion taking full effect now, “I’m not sure what you mean, Potter.”

You beam at the use of your married name. With a fond shake of your head, you gesture to the bed, “Come on, let’s get comfy before we fall asleep.”

It doesn’t take half as long to get Harry settled into bed; propped up against a wall of pillows and your headboard before you make your way to your side of bed, propping yourself up just as high. Childishly, you rub your feet against the bedsheet, revelling in the warmth being spread by the hot water bottles placed there only moments ago.

Harry chuckles at your action before mimicking it; happy to have some warmth seeping through his body instead of the air conditioned emergency room at St. Mungo’s.

Harry shuffles for a second more before finally uttering ‘Nox’ and plunging the room into darkness.

In the dark of the room, you reach for his hand. Tangling your fingers together, you say, “I’m not asking for you to quit your job, Harry. You love it too much to do so, but I’m asking you to think about slowing down a little. To not jump at each offer of a mission, to think about what could happen,” You pause, “I’m rather fond of you coming home, you know.”

Harry releases a shuddering breath. His sides aching with the effort. He lets himself breathe for a minute or two, counting the breaths in and out of his body. Eventually, as the pain lessens slightly, he says, “I think you’re right.”

“You do?”

Harry nods, “I’m rather fond of coming home to you too as it happens.”

Carefully, cautious of not jostling the bed too much, you shift onto your side, facing him in the dark. “What do you want to do?” You ask; curious to his thoughts on the matter.

Harry sighs, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. “I don’t know,” He starts, “I want to continue working, but I don’t think I can continue if getting this injured is part of the job.”

You purse your lips; attempting to think of a solution when it hits you all at once. You grip Harry’s hand tighter in the dark, “Didn’t you say that Auror Clare is retiring next month?”

“Yes…” Harry comments; voice apprehensive and curious to see where you’re going.

“Why don’t you put your name forward for his job? They haven’t found anyone yet, right?”

Harry blinks once, twice, three times as the idea settles in his mind. Soon enough, a large smile spreads across his face as he begins to nod rapidly, “Love, that’s an excellent idea. I’ve done more than enough field work to prepare me to train new recruits.”

You smile into the dark, “What do you think? Will you put your name forward?”

Slowly, taking care not to stretch too much, Harry reaches for your left hand and places kiss after kiss to the wedding band sitting there. “I think it’s a great idea, I’m going to send an owl to Auror Michaels tomorrow and put my name forward,” Harry pauses for a single second before whispering – something akin to awe in his voice, “How did I get so lucky to have someone like you fall in love with me?”

Feeling nothing but sheer yearning to be close to your husband, you slide over to him, resting your head gingerly on his shoulder. You tilt your face up, placing a kiss to the jawline that has only become more defined over the years. As your eyes begin to droop and a yawn overtakes your body, you whisper to him, “How did we get so lucky to find each other?”

**********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @birdie-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @xfirstfemale-marauderx @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here​ @superbturtlemakerathlete​

[1-800-seo]

Pairing: Lee Taeyong X Gender Neutral Reader

Song: The Louvre - Lorde (lyrics mentioned)

Genre: Fluff/Artist!You + Poet!Taeyong

Warnings: suspicions of cheating, alcohol consumption, slightly tipsy-ness, some kissing, implied sexual content but not explicit. 

Word Count: 4000 approx. 

Summary: As wandering, travelling college students on a gap year, meeting each other in the Louvre was purely coincidental, and usually summer flings weren’t your thing, but Taeyong was different. And like a moth to a flame, you were entranced.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

The floorboards creak as the tour group shuffles down the hallways of the Louvre, passing many other tourists. The tour group leader stops at another painting and begins his explanation of the painting you see in front of you; well, you would be able to see it if you weren’t at the back of the group. Craning your neck to see, you stand on your tiptoes, before realising it is all in vain. Forgetting the other artwork, you swivel to see another painting on the wall adjacent to it and peer upon it instead. A young icy blond haired man stands beside you, examining the artwork too. He wears a baggy striped t-shirt that shows his delicate collarbones, tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans, a necklace gently hanging around his neck. He looks positively comfy, but effortlessly chic; you can’t help but stare at his chiselled jawline either. The man looks as if he was carved out of marble, angular lines with delicate features, he was stunningly beautiful. And suddenly, you realise you’ve been staring way too long when he turns his head and catches you. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He says, but you sense no malice in his voice as a warm smile creeps up his face. Looking at the ground, the painting, anywhere, you apologise; “Ah, I’m sorry… uhm I like your outfit.” You reply gingerly, unsure of what to say to remedy the situation. “Thank you! It’s new.” He sits down on a near bench, eyes trained on the painting ahead. “As great as this painting is, I cannot stand scenes of suffering - I really struggle to find the beauty in them.” He blurts out after a moment. “Why’s that?” You curiously reply. You’ve always liked paintings from the romanticism era, the painting in question being ‘The Raft of the Medusa’ by Theodore Gericault. “For instance, this painting shows their suffering, and just that itself is not nice to see, but the colour palette is so murky to me. What do I know though, I’m no artist.” You understand what he means, as an art major, you had to analyse this piece one semester. “I get where you are coming from, the aging of the paints makes it appear murkier than the artist intended, and I think that adds to the whole ‘suffering’ aspect.” As you end your sentence, you turn your head and realise the tour group has moved on. You pat him on the shoulder and point in the direction of the crowd. He swears under his breath before standing up and leading the way back with the group. What a beautiful stranger. 

Once the tour group has ended, you vacate the Louvre, more sightseeing to do. After a busy day of staring up at the Arc De Triomphe and climbing the stairs of the Eiffel tower, you end up walking by the Louvre again since you previously spotted a cute cafe you wanted to try out. Now dusk, the water display is illuminated, bathed in light and bubbling. You see a familiar figure sat on the wall beside it, looking slightly lost and reading from a notebook. Unsure whether to help, you continue walking on to the cafe, this would only take a minute or two. Once done, with two coffees in hand, you walk back to the Louvre and the figure still sitting on the wall. 

“Are you ok? You seem a bit lost?” You gently ask, testing the waters. The man from the gallery looks back up to you, big expressive eyes staring back, and you sense a hint of worry in them. “Hi, yeah, I’m a bit lost. My phone died and I can’t find my way back to my hotel.” He says, forlorn. “Well, I bought you a coffee, if you’d like it, and I don’t mind helping! I can maybe help with directions.” You hand the coffee towards him, and he takes it from you, eyes lighting up as he does. “Aww thank you! That would mean a lot to me, and thank you for the coffee.” You sit down on the wall next to him as you pull up Google maps on your phone. “It’s no problem. Where are you staying? I’ll put it into maps and have a look.” “I’m staying at the mur de coquelicots hotel.” “Oh no way! I’m staying there too! I know exactly where it is, we can walk back together.” “That sounds great.” He replies with a smile, eyes shining. 

The pair of you walk through the city as the sun sets and the moon begins to shine. Conversation flows easily, and you find yourself totally enamoured with this stranger. He’s bubbly and friendly, charismatic and charming, simultaneously shy and chatty. It’s hard not to stare as he speaks to you, it’s an added bonus that he’s gorgeous. Unfortunately, the walk is over quicker than you’d like and you two enter through the lobby of the cheap but nice enough hotel. You make your way into the elevator with him, and press your floor. “Well it was nice meeting you. I just realised I don’t even know your name.” You giggle. “I’m Y/N.” “Thank you for your help Y/N, I’m Taeyong by the way.” “You’re welcome, goodnight Taeyong.” You bid your farewell and exit the lift, the doors opening as you finish your sentence. 

As you reach the door to your room, you fiddle with the key card, excitement bubbling up inside of you. What a lovely guy. You flop down on the comfy hotel bed once you’re inside of the room. Spending all summer in Paris was becoming more and more like a dream come true. 

The sun shines through the translucent curtains as you gather your things into your tote bag and get ready to leave the hotel room for breakfast. You wander over to the quaint bakery across the road from the hotel, and spot a familiar figure sitting in the outdoor seating with a newspaper. The blonde haired man sports a beret, and looks positively relaxed as he munches away on a croissant. You pick out a pastry, before walking over. “Is this seat taken?” You ask, and pull out the chair to sit down. “No, feel free to sit.” He replies with a smile. You sit opposite to him and shift in your seat to get comfortable. “What a lovely morning, right?” His smile beams as he looks your way. “Definitely! I love the warm weather.” You say, “it’ll be perfect to paint in.” “Oh so, you’re a painter? That’s cool, Paris is perfect for inspiration. It’s certainly aiding me.” “Yeah, I’m a painter, I’m here as an international student on study leave. What do you do?” “I’m an English literature major, specialising in poetry, so I’m here finding inspiration for poems of my own.” “Well, you’re certainly at the right place. Speaking of inspiration, I’m going to visit the Palace of Versailles today if you’d like to come with me and are not busy. I thought since you’re alone here, you might want to?” You ask, rubbing your hands over your arms, a slight shiver of nervousness at your sudden offer. “That sounds amazing! Thank you for the invite. What time are you thinking of leaving?” His eyes light up at your offer and your nervousness is put at bay. “Around 12pm, and you’re very welcome.” You reply.  “Sounds good, I’ll meet you here at 12pm then?” He responds chirpily. “Sounds good to me.” 

Okay I know that you are not my type (still I fall.) I'm just the sucker who let you fill her mind

(But what about love?)

Nothing wrong with it

Supernatural

Just move in close to me, closer, you'll feel it coasting

This wasn’t something you usually did. Asked our strangers or chose to spend time with ones you are not familiar with. But it was almost a supernatural attraction. He was not your usual type at all, but something strong and lulling was moving over you. Something indescribable, beyond enchanting. 

Walking around the luscious gardens of the Palace of Versailles was just a sight to behold. The beauty that is held within was stunning. It was as you strolled around it that Taeyong took your hand in his; so casually that you didn’t think anything of it at first, but then it hit you and your heart fluttered. You smiled wide as he looked at you with tender eyes. It’s not wrong to move this fast right? Nothing wrong with a summer fling. 

Nothing wrong with it, supernatural. 

As the two of you walk around, conversation flows freely. You speak of previous art pieces and he talks about writing, he tells you about how long he’s been in Paris and so many other things. Before you know it, you two find yourselves under a grand stone archway, and conversation trails off delicately. “You’re so beautiful, I love the way the sunlight hits you. I think you’d make a beautiful painting yourself.” He says unexpectedly. A bubble rises through your chest, and you know what you want to do. You lean forward, placing your hands gently either side of his head and you kiss him. His soft lips meet yours and you are drinking each other in. The kiss is brief but heavenly all the same. As you pull away you notice a light blush over his cheeks and a dorky grin on his face. You feel the same grin on yours. 

After a lovely day together walking around the palace’s gardens and opulent rooms, you decide to head back and get some food together. Being students and not having a ton of money, you both decide to get food from a local convenience store and to eat it on the hotel room balcony. “What do you fancy eating?” He asks, his hand still grasped around yours as you peruse the items in the shop. “I think I fancy some quiche, what are you thinking?” “I think I’ll get some cheese and crackers.” He adds, checking out the foreign cheeses. Once the pair of you have your haul, you head back up to the hotel room, and lay out your spread on the balcony table. The sun is setting gently in the distance and it illuminates the skies in gentle peaches and pinks. In his company, it just feels so comfortable, so cosy. 

A rush at the beginning. 

At the shop, you also purchase a bottle of wine, and the two of you share it together. Perhaps the cosy feeling is from that, you don’t know, but either way; you enjoy being in his company and don’t regret talking to the beautiful stranger in the Louvre. After some time, you’re both positively tipsy, not drunk, just giggly and happy. Taeyong starts dancing on the balcony, languid movements and sharp ones intertwined into a beautiful choreography. You’re not quite sure how he learnt to dance this way, he deserves to be on a stage. But for tonight, you were his audience. 

Drink up your movements, still I can’t get enough. 

He flows freely, not unlike a puppet on a string, controlled by some unseen forces to move his body in ways you could never. “Where did you learn that dance?” You ask, intrigued to no end. “I’m freestyling, just making it up.” Of course, he’s beautiful, intelligent, kind, and talented. “That’s crazy, you’re amazing.” You reply, and he blushes at your compliment. “One minute, I’m just going to go to the bathroom.” He replies, and sets his phone down on the table. “See you in a sec.” Whilst he’s gone you sit and stare at the beautiful dusk sky that is out ahead. You’re aware that what you have with Taeyong is quite the whirlwind, but you really can’t find the space to care. There isn’t any damage being done, and you’re young so now’s the time to have fun and be carefree. You’re in Paris, maybe it’s called the City of Love for a reason? 

As almost to interrupt your thinking, Taeyong’s phone buzzes on the table and the screen illuminates in front of you. You can’t help but see what the message says, it’s right there in front of you. The message is from “이 소연” and it reads: “Missing you, my dear, can’t wait to have you back in my life. Enjoy Paris <3” 

Is it possible he has a partner? Were you not the only one? It’s entirely possible that you were just a summer fling to him, and he actually has a partner back home. 

I overthink your punctuation use. Not my fault, just a thing that my mind do.  A rush at the beginning. I get caught up, just for a minute. 

Were you just getting caught up with everything? Did you really just rush into things without even a second thought. Of course, you were being naive, you didn’t even ask if he was single before kissing him. And yes, he reciprocated but what did that mean? You were just the enabler. 

Alas, you had to move on with the night, getting suspicious of him and acting weird wouldn’t help right now. So when he comes back onto the balcony, you continue the night as normal, pushing down your feelings. Perhaps it was his sister. You really cannot presume. Despite your logical side being sensible, your emotional side still fought a battle. Warring to be front and centre of your thoughts. You know you can’t let it get the better of you though. And so, you carry on with the night, albeit slightly stilted now; and you make an excuse to go to bed earlier than you normally would. You scuttle off to your hotel room across the hall and settle in for the night. Thoughts swirling around and around in your mind. 

Can you hear the violence? Megaphone to my chest, broadcast the boom, boom, boom. 

The sun rises overhead, almost fully above the buildings as you nibble on your croissant quietly. The streets are starting to come to life as you watch from the local bakery with your morning coffee. Desperately, you try to put your mind at ease, try to push down the onslaught of intrusive thoughts; illogical as they come. After 20 minutes, you start to feel more at peace, you watch the dainty flowers sway in the morning breeze in their pot. You almost expect to feel worse when you see him. He approaches you, leather satchel hanging at his waist, and waves as he comes. Instead you don’t feel worse, you just feel oddly numb. Completely sensationless as you put on a smile in return to his wave. He sits down in the chair across from you, and places his satchel on the floor next to his chair. 

“Good morning! How are you today? I hope you’re not hungover from the wine last night.” He says with a giggle. “I know I certainly am, but I’m trying to be positive.” He adds, and you notice his slightly ruffled bed head, must’ve been from a rough sleep. “Ahh, you certainly are doing a good job of being positive then,” you reply with a smile that reaches your eyes and crinkles them, “luckily, I don’t feel hungover. I’m just enjoying the morning slowly and as it comes.” Which is true, you decided you’d take today as it comes. “I’m glad you don’t feel too bad then. I’m just going to nip inside to get something to eat, do you want anything?” He rises from his chair and gestures to the shop door. “No thank you, I just finished a croissant before you came, but thanks anyway.” “No worries.” And he leaves to enter the boulangerie. 

I’m just the sucker who let you fill her mind. 

You didn’t want to make things awkward with Taeyong. It wasn’t worth it, at the end of the day, all you did was kiss him once. Perhaps you needed to find out more about him, get the full context at least. When Taeyong sits back down the conversation starts back up again and turns to family life. “So do you have any family back home?” You ask curiously. “What, in Korea? Yeah, I do. I have my parents back home and a sister. Yerin, she’s 15 and quite the handful. I miss her, but for now FaceTime calls will suffice.” He lets out a low chuckle at his own joke, making the situation a bit lighter. His answer doesn’t provide any clues to your questions though. “Aww that’s nice, I have a sister too. But she’s older than me. Do you have a partner at all?” You ask now, testing the waters. “Nope, just me, myself, and I.” “Same for me.” Well, that also doesn’t answer your questions. You’re pretty sure that the text earlier wasn’t from his sister, and you expect his mum to be down in his phone as a term of endearment; not a full name so it can’t be her. Is it better to give up the search? Maybe asking Taeyong more later would help. But what to say? Future you would deal with that. For now, you had the whole day ahead. 

“So what do you have planned today?” He inquired now, breaking you from your thoughts. “I’m just going to go paint in the local park, do you fancy being my sitter? I need more anatomy practice.” “Ooh of course! I’ve never done anything like that before.” And so today’s plans were set. How could you pass up on the opportunity to paint someone built so divinely like Taeyong? Personal interests aside, Taeyong was made to be immortalised in artwork forever. His sharp jawline, large emotive eyes, and slim frame all coming together to create the perfect sitter for you. A painting of him, no matter the artist who painted it, should be hung in the Louvre. A masterpiece deserving of being viewed by everyone and adored. 

Our thing progresses

I call and you come through

The spot you are situated in is perfect, a lush knoll leading out onto a tulip field, the many colours like a rainbow behind Taeyong. You’d decided to paint him in watercolour, partially because of the easy clean up, partially because you want to capture his true beauty, the delicate tones of his skin, hair, and eyes; the gentle dips of his collarbone, the sinewy muscle of his arms. 

Taeyong poses quietly, the silence a comfortable one, as you begin painting him. He looks thoughtful, looking out into space behind you, he almost seems meditative, eyes blinking slowly and breathing even. As you mix the colour of his skin tone on your watercolour pan, you see him sigh, and wonder what he is thinking about. From what you know, Taeyong’s an introspective person, much like you, and perhaps that’s the mood he is in today. You are the same. It’s hard in the silence for your thoughts not to turn to the message. Intrusive thoughts fly around like bats in the night time; even if he was cheating, could you not push it aside for the sake of a summer fling? Logical thoughts cross out that of the intrusive ones - of course not, how could you be the other person in his relationship for the sake of selfishness? It’s important to be communicative, and if you have your worries - suspicions - then should you not speak to him about it? Sometimes things are better left unsaid, yes, but this is not one of them. 

With a new resolve, you decide to talk to him come the evening. Clarification is what you need, and you must bolster up the courage to get it. 

I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush

You know what they say about alcohol, it’s liquid courage, and after a glass of wine or two, you finally feel bold enough to approach Taeyong. You open your hotel room door, and cross the hallway to his. A sharp rap on the door brings you to Taeyong’s attention, and he pads across the room to open the door. You stand near the threshold, looking almost alarmed, like a deer in headlights. Perhaps you came underprepared and unrehearsed. “C-can I talk to you?” You ask, words stuttering on their way out. “Of course, come in.” He replies gently, sensing your unease as he gestures for you to come in. 

Once you’re both situated on the balcony in those damn uncomfortable plastic chairs, you begin to talk. “Do you have a partner, Taeyong?” You fiddle with your hands, eyes glued to them in aversion from his eyes. “No, why?” He replies, head cocked to the side in confusion. “When you went to the bathroom the other day, your phone was on the table directly in front of me, and pardon me for breaking your privacy, but I couldn’t help but read the preview of the message that came up. It said “missing you, my dear, can’t wait to have you back in my life. Enjoy paris,” and then there was a love heart at the end. I’ve probably got the wrong end of the stick, but I’ve been so cautious because I don’t want to be that other person in a relationship. I don’t think you’re lying to me, I just wanted to be sure, and ask you since it’s been bothering me.” 

Taeyong takes a hold of your hand in his and smooths his thumb over the back of it in a comforting gesture. “I promise darling, I’m not dating anyone. That was my crazy ex. I broke up with her roughly six months ago, and she’s still sending me random messages. The only reason why she knows about me being in Paris is because she keeps hounding my mother for information. She keeps mentioning about me being back in her life, but I promise to you that I have no intention of even seeing her or speaking to her. She’s a mad woman.” At his words you feel tension release inside your chest. Your body feels lighter and you feel a wave of relief. Thank goodness for that. 

“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with that Taeyong, and thank you for clearing things up. None of this is my place but, I appreciate you filling me in.” Now you look into his eyes, the dark earthy spheres look back at you as the remaining sunlight gives them a glossy shine. You smile back and he leans forward, lips meeting yours in a kiss. You drink him in now, no longer hesitant to taste him. To him you taste so heavenly, the remaining mature hints of red wine mixed with something inherently just you, has him high with the feeling. He moves his hands to your waist now and you climb onto his lap, eager to be closer to him, to touch him. He fiddles with the hem of your shirt in his grip as you kiss down his neck now, lapping at the warm tan skin. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” He whispers in your ear, and you nod in agreement. 

Well, summer slipped us underneath her tongue,

Our days and nights are perfumed with obsession, Half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom floor, Use our eyes, throw our hands overboard. 

The morning light spills into the room through the translucent dainty cream curtains as they flow in the wind. The window is open to let the summer air flow in, and you don’t feel a chill at all. Taeyong’s warm skin radiates a heat you’ve never quite experienced, it’s so homely and cosy. The feeling of your head on his chest as you listen to his heartbeat unlike any other else. It’s nice to just be held, to feel the closeness of another human being and feel utterly comfortable. 

You think back to the portrait of him you painted yesterday, and somehow you think it’s your best piece. There’s nothing like being able to capture a person with the aura whole. The piece emits something wholly him, just him. You think that’s why it might be your favourite. Maybe someday they’ll hang it in the Louvre, you giggle to yourself at that thought and Taeyong stirs underneath you. “What’s so funny, baby?” He asks, spoken with a gruff morning voice low and gravelly. “I was thinking about your portrait, and I thought about how you could hang it in the Louvre. But only because it’s you.” 

“They’ll hang us in the Louvre, down the back, but who cares, still the Louvre.” He replies, a blissed out look on his face. He’s right, maybe not about yourself, but about him. He might just be the ultimate muse. 

But we’re the greatest 

They’ll hang us in the Louvre

Down the back, but who cares - still the Louvre

thank you for reading! this fic is for the ‘Now Playing’ collab by @haechanblr and it was a joy to take part!! I hope everyone liked this hehe :))

If ur interested in more of my works my masterlist is here <3

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 22: Reservoir House Call

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, body horror

Summary: Moraue needs Heisenberg’s help.

Feedback appreciated, 18+

Movement tripped the alarms, something deep in the factory stirred the sensors. Heisenberg and Juniper entered the control room. He sat in the chair, looking over the cameras.

“What the fuck it that?!” Juniper pointed to one of the screens. Heisenberg turned to look where her finger led.

Down on the lowest reaches of the factory, where water from the reservoir flowed through the factory a large shape lumbered out.

It was a mass of fat and eyes, pulling free of the water with multiple legs.

“Aw Christ…” Heisenberg sat back in his chair rubbing the bridge of his nose, “it’s Moreau.”

 

“That’s Moreau??” Juniper said in disbelief.

By the time they made it down to the lowest level, Moreau had changed back into his more humanoid form, coughing near the edge of the waterway.

“H-Hello Juniper.” The man croaked. Seeing him now, without his usual coverings was a sight to behold. His back was covered with bulbous, pulsing growths. Damn, some looked to be monstrous eyes. A vestigial aquatic tail poked out from the mass, moving on its own accord. It looked painful, forcing the man into a hunchback.

“H-Hello.” Juniper managed.

“Yea Yea, fish.” Heisenberg stomped up, “What do you want, I’m busy.”

Moreau seemed to worry his hands, glancing down, “Brother…I…I need your help.”

“I fucking know that, what is it?” Heisenberg interjected, annoyed.

His tone made the other flinch a bit, “My television…i-it broke. I can’t f-fix it.”

Heisenberg signed, thinking over the situation. “I’ll come fix it.” He finally spoke.

Moreau’s face lit up with hope, shuffling his feet a bit. He turned towards Juniper, “You’ll come too?”

“Sure.” She nodded tentatively, hearing Heisenberg groan behind her.

“I can take you over!” The man gestured to the water excitedly.

Juniper felt a shiver, remembering what emerged from the water, until Heisenberg cut in again. “Thanks but…uh…fuck that.” He waved his hand, “Well take our own way.”

Slightly dejected, Moraue nodded, “I’ll meet you there.”

“Mhm.” Heisenberg shrugged tightly. Before anyone would speak again the fish man turned and jumped back into the waterway.

~

“Is that a purse?” Juniper asked amused. They walked towards the Reservoir, the ground muddy from the melted snow.

“It’s a tool bag.” Heisenberg answered through gritted teeth. He pulled the bag closer, it was letter and hung around his shoulder at hip level.

“It looks like a purse.” Juniper snickered, earning a growl of annoyance from Heisenberg.

As they drew nearer, past the town, the ground grew more sodden. The air slowly began to gain a certain smell, like the rotting of waterlogged plants. Juniper wrinkled her nose.

They walked through a narrow passage between a cliff face, Heisenberg holding back a bramble patch for Juniper to safely squeeze through.

She could see the windmills now, old and groaning as they slowly turned. Most of the land surrounding them had long since been lost to the rising water. The roofs of houses and other debris could be seen floating on top of the murky water.

“This is it.” Heisenberg announced, “The beautiful Reservoir, perfect place to cool off in the summertime. Just watch out for the fish!” His voice mimicked an old radio announcer as he split his face into a cheeky smile.

Juniper brushed him away, walking towards the edge to look into the swirling water.

“Be careful, buttercup.” Heisenberg came up behind her, “Won’t be able to fish you out if you sink in that.”

She felt a little shiver run down her spine.

She stepped away from the water, “So where does Moreau live?”

Heisenberg gestured for her to follow, easing his tool bag more comfortably on his shoulder. They entered the closest of the windmills. The old wooden mechanism slowly turned and groaned as they took stairs deeper into the underground. They came to a lift, resembling ones in the factory, but this one was wooden.

They rode it down into what looked to be an old mine. Juniper’s eyes caught the glittering flecks of crystals embedded into the rocky ceiling.

Going deeper still, with the far off shuffling of Lycans in abandoned mining shafts, they finally came to a metal door.

It bore the crest of Miranda.

“Don’t touch anything.” Heisenberg warned, “I don’t want you getting any diseases.”

Before Juniper could scold him he knocked at the door.

They heard mumbling and the scraping of feet across the wooden floors before the door opened. Moreau was a mixture of joy and apprehension, greeting them inside.

His ‘house’ was one of the mine shafts that had been converted into a living space. There were wooden floors and walls, and some furniture about. It was definitely sparse, save for some shelves with old books and storage containers.

Everything looked to be heavily damaged by water and the goo that Moraue would produce, not to mention the off colored stains that Juniper didn’t want to ask about.

It smelled about as one would expect, given the circumstances.

“I’m sorry…about the mess.” Moraue picked up a pile of old magazines, their covers warped and faded.

“It’s alright.” Juniper tried to sooth.

“So where is the tv?” Heisenberg asked with disgruntlement.

“Oh!” The twisted man exclaimed, “It’s right over here.” He padded around a corner into another small room. An old television set was staked on a crate, some soft things and boxes of films close by. This room looked to be the space he spent most of his time.

“Thank you, Heis-Heisenberg.” Moraue stammered.

“Yea, yea.” Heisenberg strode forward, kneeling down behind the machine. He placed the bag of tools beside him, pulling out a screwdriver.

Juniper wandered back to the entertainment room, Moreau curiously following her.

Heisenberg, busy with his task, took no mind of them. He wanted to finish this job as quickly as possible.

Getting all the screws loose he was able to free the back panel. It came away with an odd sucking sound, goo oozing out with it. The slimy substance hit Heisenberg’s boots as the television gave small sparks.

“Fucking hell!” Heisenberg grimaced at his boots, shaking the panel free of the muck.

“The TV is full of your green shit slime!” Heisenberg yelled into the next room. He heard more apologies from the room over. Grumbling, he began to clean out the inside of the box.

Juniper walked along the wall, looking at various  things that were hung alone it. Most of it was old gushing memorabilia but a few worn picture frames peaked her interest.

One photo in particular stood out. It was faded, the edges being ate up with mold. But she could still make out a man, stocky with jet black hair. He stood proudly in front of a clinic. She squinted her eyes to read the sign in the photo: Moreau’s Clinic.

“Sal?” Juniper turned, pointing to the photo, “Is this you?”

Moreau came closer, looking to where her finger led. His wide mouth parted in a smile as he spoke, “Oh yes!”

“Were you a doctor?” Juniper turned back towards the photo. Looking now she could see the shadows of his features hidden away under all the twisted flesh.

He nodded, “Yes, I took over the clinic. It was my Father’s. I helped people…before…before all..”

His voice trailed off, but Juniper understood.

He shook his head a bit, his smile returning, “But I help Mother Miranda now! I try to make her proud of me.”

Juniper gave him a small smile, knowing that nothing she said would sway his devotion.

“Heisenberg said you were sick.” Moraue looked up at her, his good eye full of worry.

Feeling her stomach she answered, “I went through a lot recently, but I’m feeling much better now.”

“Mother’s gifts hurt sometimes.” He tried to sooth, “But it’s worth it, she wants us to be strong.”

She tried to nod, her gut turning a bit at the memories.

“You are Heisenberg’s helper?”Moreau tried to change the subject.

Heisenberg’s voice sounded from the other room, “She’s my wife!” He corrected.

Moreau gave a small ‘oh’. Juniper’s cheeks bloomed with a rosy blush.

“I’m trying to teach him some manners.” She whispered mischievously, earning a warbling chuckle from Moreau.

“I heard that!” Heisenberg yelled again making the two snicker harder.

~

It was a good few hours before Heisenberg was able to get the inside of the machine clean and in working order once more. He had to use his powers with electricity to rewire some parts, replacing one of the tube bulbs and showering it with a plethora of curses for good measure during the whole ordeal.

Juniper kept Moraue occupied and out of Heisenberg’s hair. He had convinced her to look at his collection of finishing lures. Given his simple speech patterns and twisted visage one would think him very dim; but he was surprisingly intelligent and talkative with certain topics. Fishing was one of those topics, Juniper discovered.

The sound of boots tore them from their conversations, Moraue closing the old wooden tackle box to look up.

“Well I got it working again…but damn your slime mess is really fucking it up.” Heisenberg announced, holding his tool bag.

Moreau took Juniper’s hand excitedly, “Would you want to see one of my movies?”

“No, no.” Heisenberg interjected.

“One movie?” Juniper looked at him with big puppy eyes, “Just to make sure it’s working properly.”

The two looked at Heisenberg expectantly. After a long moment Heisenberg pinched the bridge of his nose and cursed, “Jesus fuck…Fine!”

As Moreau excitedly went through his box of films Heisenberg pressed, “Only one.”

“Thank you.” Juniper whispered, hugging Heisenberg softly.

Rolling his eyes, Heisenberg hisses, “I don’t know why you humor him.”

“Because it’s a nice thing to do.” Juniper snapped under her breath, “Don’t be so mean.”

When he didn’t speak she gave a little huff, wandering closer to the crouched Moreau.

The man was sifting carefully though the films, mumbling things to himself.

Juniper made a sound of surprise pointing into the box, “You have ‘The Secret Garden’?”

Moreau nodded, pulling that film free. It was the 1949 version, in black and white.

“I used to love that book.” Juniper spoke excitedly, “Can we watch that one?”

Moreau, just overjoyed to have company, instantly agreed.

Heisenberg leaned against the far wall, watching them set up the television. Moreau apologized profusely for not having proper seating, while Juniper shrugged and sat on the floor.

He smiled as the two became quiet when the movie started, walking quietly up to sit besides Juniper. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer as he settled in.

The movie wasn’t his cup of tea, liking westerns or thrillers more himself, but the quiet was nice. Even if the place was damp and smelled.

[newtonsheffield]

For spicy Sunday can we please get the Story behind Kate and Anthony on the stairs...

And Ben and Sophie on the lawn of the b&b please 🤣🤓🔥

I knew as soon as I put those lines in that BWC post someone was gonna ask me about it and... Okay. Yep. Here it is.  And sorry in advance because this post is looooong.

As Much as Anthony had hated it at the time, he’d been attracted to Kate Sheffield from the very first day he’d seen her. He’d been walking innocently through the bullpen and he’d heard her commanding tone drifting through the office towards him, and heat had shot right through him, and when he’d forced his eyes towards her and she’d sat, in her office, her legs crossed behind her desk, her stocking clad legs seeming to stretch on for miles, Her eyebrow arched in question towards him, her fingernails painted black tapping against the desk Anthony had thought he’d die right on the spot. But he’d pushed it down, even when his eyes seemed to be drawn to the seam that ran up the back of her stockings and his hands twitched to touch them, and he woke in the night his heart racing, his body aching for the way his mind had conjured up the image of her writhing underneath him gasping his name in pleasure. 

And then he’d had her. And he truly thought his heart would burst from his chest because the Kate Sheffield his mind had conjured late at night, desperately trying to tell him what his heart wanted, had been his wildest fantasy truly the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. And yet, the Kate Sheffield that lay on his bed gasping and moaning his name like it was the only word she remembered how to say was a million times more so. And he’d thought that perhaps now he’d finally be able to think straight when she was around. Unfortunately for him, that was not the case. He couldn’t see her walking around the office, her stockings pulled tightly against her legs without thinking about how those long legs had felt over his shoulders, miles and miles of soft brown skin stretching on before him as she shattered around him, for him. Couldn’t see her in his house, laughing, smirking, making witty little comments with his family and hers without thinking about how her lips felt against his own, against his chest, her teeth nipping at his collarbone, scraping against his ear, against his stomach. It was enough to drive a man insane. 

And truly, today it had been. Anthony really couldn’t say when it had happened, but he craved Kate’s touch. To feel her skin against his in even the most casual way and she had been a little more casual than normal today. She’d sat on his lap as she spoke with her sister, laughing lightly as her Step mother admonished her sister, her breath fanning lightly against his neck and her nails scraping against his neck, her fingers twisting in the soft hair at the base of his neck, and it was all he could do not to stand from the table and drag her from her family, push her against the wall and lose himself in her. And The way her eyes flicked to him when he shifted uncomfortably told him she knew exactly what she was doing.

As soon as the door had shut behind the Sheffield’s Kate’s lips had been on his. Burning hot against him, setting him on fire from the inside out, as she gently pushed against his chest, forcing him to step backwards, his hands wandering everywhere as she moaned against him. He pulled back suddenly, taking her hand and attempting to tug her up the stairs, and his heart had nearly dropped right from his chest when she’d shaken her head, that wicked smirk twisting her lips as she said 

“Oh, I think we’re fine right where we are. Sit Down, Anthony.” That same, firm voice, that had caught his attention on the first day and had him panting after her ever since and he’d sat instantly, right there on the staircase, ready to burst and he’d barely touched her as she softly commanded him to. 

And really, he wasn’t sure which Kate he liked best. Seeing the strong, confident woman writhing under him, or the one he could see now: Moving powerfully above him, one hand clutching his chest, the other holding her hair back as she took what she wanted from him. And he couldn’t stop the words from coming God Kate, so beautiful, amazing. Perfect. So right, So good I love you babbling mindlessly from him with her name, worshipping like the Goddess she was, His own name falling from her lips again and again until they fell apart together his hands clutching at her like she was the only real thing in his life. And honestly, if Kate Sheffield was going to be the only thing left in his life, he wouldn’t have complained a bit. 

 🔥🔥🔥

Sophie was... more than a little embarrassed by the series of events that lead to them being discovered in a rather... delicate position on the lawn of a bed and breakfast in Somerset. Benedict had been travelling for work and his eyes and looked so pleading, so soft when he’d said Come away with me for the weekend Sophie his lips against her ear as he said I promise I’ll make it very worth your while, his hand maddeningly close to where she desperately needed it as he said Say yes, and you can have it Sophie  what could she say but  “Yes, Benedict.” ?

And truly, it had definitely been worth her while. She’s sat and watched Benedict work for a time, more than a little curious as to what he did all day. And unfortunately, she learned a little fact about herself. Watching Benedict work was... very attractive to her. The way his brow furrowed as he surveyed the scene in front of him assessing the composition, the lighting, the soft way he ordered the models about had heat rising to her cheeks. And then, as he’d packed up his equipment he’d said something that she never would have expected to set her one fire,  “Come on, I want to draw you today.” And she’d been so surprised she’d barely argued as he’d tugged her back to their tiny room, gathered his things and sat, already uncomfortably warm, on the grass in the back garden as he softly moved her into the position he wanted. 

And God he just looked so handsome, in the afternoon sun, his brow furrowed, his hand moving softly over the paper, the charcoal he was using leaving marks against his hand. His gaze when he looked at her over the top of his notebook was practically burning into her. And then he started talking. His voice rough when he told her exactly what he wanted to do to her. How he wanted to press her into the grass, feel her tight around him, the flowers all around them when he made her scream his name. And god help, her she cleared her throat and said, much more confidently than she felt:   “Promises, promises Benedict. Stop talking and do it.”  

 And Sophie watched as the drawing he’d been labouring over softly was tossed to the side, his hands covering her as his lips met hers, the fire that had been threatening to set her on fire all day consuming her. His body slipping over hers as his lips brushed over her thighs, his fingers leaving dark smudges against her skin, marking her. The grass tickling her back as her fingers slipped through his hair as everything shattered. And shattered again when he moaned out her name. 

But yes, Sophie had to admit, it was a little awkward to be served eggs the next morning by a woman who had happened upon you seconds after your boyfriend had swallowed your scream with a kiss.  

Sorry about me.

[smelted-applejuice]

Peace Treaty, 04

Paring(s); Fundy x Reader, Sapnap x Reader Pronouns; She/Her  TW: Mention of death, SUPER LIGHT implied sexual interaction Previous , Next

  [YourName] would spend her days in bed, Sapnap had halted his chores for Dream and wanted to focus on her. It pained him to hear her cry and it hurt even more when he knew he couldn’t touch her. She was too embarrassed to accept his hugs or support, he didn’t know why but he didn’t want to press buttons and make the situation even worse than it already was. Today would be the first day he went out, but it wouldn’t be for long, he was simply going to grab more food, and then he would return.

While he was out, [YourName] collected the courage to wander around their backyard garden and just try and enjoy the breeze. She ended up sitting in the greenhouse and sulking for about ten minutes before returning and finally taking a shower. She felt disgusting, she had taken a shower in a week but Sapnap still slept next to her and offered his support. She didn’t want to use him when she knew she would be doing these things herself, she just kept processing that technically; she was an orphan. Tomorrow she planned to go to L’manberg, with or without Sapnap, and collect her inherited items. After showering, she dressed again and changed the sheets, trying to make her little burst of energy and motivation last as long as possible. While the sheets washed, [YourName] sat on the couch and just fell apart again and it didn’t help when Sapnap had busted into the house yelling at Fundy to leave him alone and he’d much rather have a duel than talking it out. “What the hell is happening?!” [YourName] asked standing up as she whipped her tears, Sapnap quickly looked over around the same time Fundy had stormed in. Fundy was obviously angry but softened when he saw [YourName] standing there. She was obviously upset about something, he hadn’t been able to actually look into any news recently, “What’s wrong?” Fundy asked, making Sapnap glare toward him “You’ve been so damn focused on me that you didn’t even realize that Gregory was murdered?!” Sapnap questioned angrily. “Well, yes, I want justice-” Fundy began but got cut off, “Oh shut up for a second, Fundy.” Sapnap demanded placing the bags down and ushering [YourName] back to a seat where she could relax. [YourName] just remained quiet, “Wait, s-so you did murder Fungi?” she asked as she tried to clear up her throat. Sapnap didn’t make eye contact, obviously giving [YourName] her answer, “Why would you murder a poor fox!?” [YourName] asked in shock. Sapnap sighed “I didn’t mean to! I was just playing a game with it?” he explained slowly becoming more unsure about his defense “A game? What kind of game involves arrows?” [YourName] asked, folding her arms. Sapnap sighed, truly not having an answer to her question. [YourName] sighed, “Whatever, I’m going back to L’manberg tomorrow and collecting my inheritance, are you coming?” she asked, ignoring Fundy who stood awkwardly in their main entrance. Sapnap closed his eyes and shook his head “No, I have a duel apparently.” he said, placing his focus on [YourName]. She had no words just simply nodded and left the room to go grab their sheets. Sapnap stood up fully and huffed, “You’re an ass.” he spoke toward Fundy “I’m not, I just want justice.” the fox hybrid said confidently “I’ll see you tomorrow.” he added. While Sapnap and Fundy went out on a duel, [YourName] focused on getting whatever she could from her childhood home. It felt dark and gloomy in her childhood home as she sat on the floor going through boxes. She could have really used some support right now, but everyone seemed busy- even if it was basically child’s play. [YourName] sighed laying down and bringing one of her father’s jackets close to her face, and once more she let her emotions take their toll and sobbed out. It echoed around her as most of the large furniture that she couldn’t take was already taken out of the home. [YourName] didn’t hear the door open and close, nor did she hear the footstep crawling up the stairs. She jumped when she saw a shadow figure make its way close to her, but softly melted when she noticed it was just a beaten-up Fundy. “Oh my god, Fundy..” [YourName] mumbled softly dropping the jacket into her lap, Fundy shook his head and would crawl up next to [YourName] and hold her close. “I’m so sorry. I wish I would’ve just come with you. You need support.” Fundy whispered, rubbing his face in the crook of her neck. 

[YourName] sighed out, it was shaky as she was in tears once more. [YourName] wrapped an arm around Fundy’s head, her fingers playing with whatever hair she could touch. “It’s fine.. It’s fine..” [YourName] repeated to herself and Fundy, Fundy just listened softly humming for [YourName], hoping it’ll calm her down. A few content squeaks escaped his lips when [YourName] managed to rub his ears, but that was it. The woman turned so she could be held by Fundy, and right then and there she lost it. Fundy gently squeezed her as she let out the quietest sob she could muster- which wasn’t that quiet. His jacket would muffle her sobs, Fundy ran his fingers through [YourName]’s hair, moving some stands away from her face, so she didn’t have to worry about wet hair. He gently leaned down and pressed a soft kiss into her hair. “He loved you, [YourName].” Fundy whispered, [YourName] nodded as she shook breathing in. “I’m sorry I didn’t come with you, I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were told about the news,” Fundy added. “Oh fuck, Fundy.” [YourName] said softly laughing “I love you so much, I wish I could be with you.” she added, [YourName] moved so she held his face and gently ran her thumb across his cheek. “If we were together, I feel as if this wouldn’t have happened.” [YourName] whispered, pressing her forehead against Fundy’s. Fundy softly sighed, he quietly agreed not wanting to speak and ruin the closest moment he’s managed to have with [YourName] in weeks. [YourName] would be the one to make the move and gently dip her head down, pressing her lips against Fundy’s. Their kiss was passionate and had needs mixed within it. They didn’t know how long they could take being apart from each other for much longer.

After Sapnap won the duel, he returned home. Since he hadn’t joined his wife on the trip back to L’manberg, he thought he wouldn’t be needed. He did some chores around the house, debating on making dinner for himself and [YourName]. He hoped she would return tonight, she left no note saying she wouldn't, so he went ahead and boiled the water. When he heard a knock at the door, he opened it and it revealed his close friend Dream. “Oh, Dream, what are you here for?” Sapnap asked leaning against the doorframe, he hadn’t seen much of his close friend since the wedding- but then again he didn’t really mind, all he wanted to see was [YourName]. Dream shrugged, glancing around for any sign of the person he was here for. “I was here for [YourName], I assume she isn’t here.” Dream hummed shoving his hands into his pockets. Sapnap shook his head, “No she’s in L’manberg, she should be back later if you want to come in and wait.” he offered, stepping aside. Dream smiled and happily took the opportunity, he took a seat and would talk to his friend as Sapnap made dinner. [YourName] would eventually come home, an extra bag in her hand. She placed it down and went to greet Sapnap, he had heard her enter and ran up to her as if he was a puppy waiting for his owner. She kissed his lips softly, Sapnap smiled bringing her in for a hug, she had yet to notice Dream sitting there waiting for a time alone with the woman. [YourName] pulled away, softly smiling but jumped when she noticed Dream. Both Sapnap and Dream laughed at her for this “I needed to speak to you, but let’s all eat before then. Is that alright?” he asked, [YourName] glanced over to Sapnap who nodded “That’s fine.” she replied. After Sapnap helped [YourName] get her father’s items upstairs in the spare bedroom, they both returned to the dining room and dinner would begin. [YourName] was doing the dishes while Sapnap had prepared a room for Dream, he had decided he was going to stay the night. [YourName] didn’t pay any attention to when Dream entered the room, so she jumped when he placed his arm against the counter. “I know things that go around here, like you and Fundy.” Dream said lowly, [YourName] paused and closed her eyes, breathing out, and shook her head. “Don’t tell Sapnap, Fundy and I ended things before I got married to him.” [YourName] said glaring toward him. “Did you though? Did you actually end things?” Dream said in a sarcastic tone, [YourName] didn’t feel good getting caught like this. He could’ve done this any other way, but he chose to do it while her husband was upstairs. “What do you expect, Dream? I’m trapped in a marriage because my father, who I’m still mourning the loss of, forced me into a peace treaty.” [YourName] snapped, placing the dishes down roughly. Dream just smiled behind his mask and sighed out, “A shame.” he simply said leaving the room. [YourName] knew Dream was Sapnap’s best friend, so she couldn’t exactly just explain what happened- plus if she did she’d be ratting herself out! She wanted to see Fundy, even if it meant on friendly terms, and if she told Sapnap she wouldn’t be able to see Fundy at all! [YourName] sighed out and finished dishes before returning upstairs and prepping for bed. She was tired and had been fighting sleep for the last few hours, so when she finally managed to make it into the bedroom she collapsed. Sapnap walked in after saying goodnight to Dream and chuckled, “Was the trip to and from that bad?” Sapnap asked, grabbing some clothes for both him and [YourName]. She perked up from her spot and shrugged, “I guess, I didn’t know looking through my father’s stuff would be so.. Draining.” [YourName] said whispering slightly. Sapnap shook his head, he felt bad- he should’ve gone and checked on her after the duel, but he had thought she could use some time alone without him hovering over her shoulder. “I should’ve gone and checked on you after the duel.” Sapnap said, helping [YourName] sit up and gently stripping her of her layers before handing her the nightshirt. [YourName] shook her head, “No, it’s fine, I had some help from Wilbur.” she lied gently placing a hand onto his face, Sapnap smiled and nudged his face into her hand making them both giggle. “How about we put your father’s stuff up tonight? Go ahead and get it done?” Sapnap suggested, [YourName] softly smiled and nodded. After they both finished getting dressed, they grabbed the bag [YourName] had brought earlier and went to work. Gregory’s sword was placed nicely against above their fireplace along with the metals he’s managed to collect and were placed inside of a see-through cabinet. [YourName] stood there with a soft smile as she held herself, she felt an arm wrap around her waist so she placed her head against his shoulder. “He was nice.” Sapnap replied, [YourName] sighed and nodded quietly agreeing. Sapnap hummed and helped [YourName] carry the bag upstairs into the unused guest room, this is where they hung up the clothing [YourName] managed to keep. Sapnap took a break and left [Yourname] for a moment, by the time he returned, [YourName] was on the floor holding the L’manberg jacket Gregory wore. Sapnap didn’t know what to say or do, he hated the shade of blue- but it had a deep connection with [YourName], so he had to put his disgust aside. Sapnap quietly made his way over and wrapped his arms around [YourName] where she would sob into his shoulder. He just sat there, remained still, and let his wife cry it out. It was all he knew what to do, he wasn’t the best with support. Maybe he could go investigator mode and find out who murdered her father, it would bring peace and ease [YourName] into a more comforting state. After [YourName] calmed down, they finished putting up clothing and would go to bed, sleeping the night away. A few weeks later, L’manberg announced a presidential election, which was strange since they had never had this before. [YourName] was a dual citizen, but since she was born in L’manberg she had the right to vote, right? “Sapnap? I’m going to L’manberg to figure out more about this election thing, are you joining?” [YourName] asked peeking into the bedroom. Sapnap looked up and shrugged “Might as well, seems like chaos and I like to watch chaos.” he replied, making [YourName] softly chuckle. The trip to L’manberg was short, [YourName] and Sapnap’s fingers were intertwined and they joked about the scenery which made the trip go by faster. Once they arrived, [YourName] and Sapnap marched right up to Wilbur’s home and entered without a knock. “What’s this election thing about?” [YourName] asked, placing her hands on her hips, Fundy was sitting on the floor watching his father pace, “I fucked up, [YourName].” Wilbur said rushing over and placing his hands onto her shoulders. [YourName] slightly stumbled backward. “What do you mean you fucked up? You’re the only person in the election right? It’s an easy win.” [YourName] said slowly easing Wilbur’s hands off of her shoulders. “No, I’m not, I forgot to close the slots! Now there are another two candidates!” Wilbur replied in a frenzy, “And who would those be?” [YourName] asked. “Quackity with George, and JSchlatt.” Oh fuck.

[afeb]

Draco Malfoy - Detest

I walked aimlessly around the garden, brushing my hands over bushes and flowers. The sky was a light blue, the sun just peeping over the horizon before it dipped down completely. I came to a large fountain, a tall snake coming out the middle of the circular pond, water spouting out of its mouth.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” I turned around to see Draco standing where I had come from, hands deeply shoved in his pocket.

I rolled my eyes and sat on the edge. “A bit obvious, don’t you think?”

He chuckled and slowly began to stroll around the fountain. “Maybe, but still pretty.” He said. “Why aren’t you in the house?”

I straightened my back. “I detest this place,” I grumbled. “I only come here because my father makes me, I think he hopes I’ll join your side one day.”

Draco nodded along. “Do you think you will?”

“I’d rather die.”

“We could arrange that.”

My eyes narrowed on his before I got up, Draco following as I walked deeper into the garden. “Why aren’t you in the house?” I asked, stopping to admire a large rose bush.

He came up behind me, leaning across to gently touch the petals, chest brushing my back. “Fresh air,” he deeply breathed in, nose bumping the back of my head. “Particularly sweet today.”

“Don’t be a creep.” I scoffed as I moved on, walking along the cobbled path to a small gathering of trees.

“I’m not being a creep.” He defended, still following behind me. “So you wouldn’t join us?”

“I don’t know how else to say it.” I snapped. “I’d never join you.”

“I suppose you love Harry Potter and muggles then, do you?” He teasingly asked, rounding to stand in front of me, blocking my way.

I crossed my arms. “And what if I did?”

I kept still as he took two large steps, heading dipping down to peer into my eyes. “One night with me, Little Girl, and I’d make you forget about him soon enough.”

My mouth fell a little. “Y/N! Dear, where are you?”

I stumbled back at the sound of my fathers voice, hurrying past Draco and back to the house. He followed behind me again, humming a small in innocent tune as we went.

“Yes father?” I asked as I approached him on the grand steps outside the mansion.

“Dear, Lucius has kindly invited us to stay the night.” My father happily said, stroking my hair.

I groaned. “But father I don’t have anything to wear to bed.”

His fist tightened in my hair. “Did I ask if you wanted to stay?” He lowly asked.

I peered at my feet. “No.”

I was aware Draco was watching us. “Very well then.”

My father left, a blush creeping on my cheeks as I turned to look at Draco. Rather than a smirk I was expecting to see, he had a deep set frown on his face. He slowly climbed the stairs, his hand stroking the same part of hair my father had.

“I’m sure we have something you can wear.” He soothed.

I nodded and moved away, making my way into the mansion. Dinner was quiet, my father and Lucius talking up a storm as my mother and Narcissa were caught up in their own conversation. Draco didn’t speak to me much, simply watched me from the corner of his eye as I slowly ate the extravagant meal that had been prepared.

“Y/N,” Lucius grabbed my attention. “I’m sure a lovely girl like you had many men asking for her eyes.”

I cleared my throat. “I don’t pay attention to any of that.” I sweetly smiled.

He frowned. “Why?”

I shrugged and warily looked at my father. “There are more important things in this world than a man.”

I saw Draco smirk. “I’m sure you’ll change your mind when you meet the right person.” Lucius said. “My boy Draco here isn’t seeing anyone.”

“Nice.” I awkwardly said.

Lucius simply eyed the two of us with a small smile and went back to talking to my father. “He’s not wrong.” Draco whispered in my ear.

I turned to glare at him. “I’d rather date Lord Voldemort than you.” I snapped back.

Dracos eyes flicked down to my lips. “Sure.”

As soon as I was able to left the table, Kreatcher showing my room for the night. It was large, a fire place and four poster bed the most notable things in the room. There was a desk and chair, small sofa and expensive looking rug on the floor. It was cold and impersonal, no paintings or photos anywhere.

I sighed and sat on the bed. The door knocked. “Come in!”

My mother popped her head round. “You seemed quiet at dinner,” she noted, coming to sit beside me on the bed. “That horrible boy isn’t being nasty to you is he?”

I shook my head. “I just want to go home.”

She coaxed my hesd to rest on her shoulder, arm wrapping warmly around me. “I know, my lovely. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“I hate it here.”

“You could make friends with that boy.” She suggested. “Might be less lonely.”

“I’d rather play in that fireplace than that.” I scoffed, to which she laughed.

“It’s only one night, you’ll survive.” A swift kiss on my forehead and she was gone.

I stayed tucked away most of the night, finding and interesting book on the history of witchcraft. Kreatcher came in to drop off an old looking nightgown. It was porcelain white and came to just above my knee, the silky material feeling nice against my skin. The sun had long set, my mother coming in again to bid me goodnight before shutting the door.

I waited a couple more hours before sneaking down the desalte hallway. I gazed up at the paintings of the Malfoy and Lestrange family. All of them looked cold and uninviting. I trembled as I looked at Bellatrix before quickly going down the stairs.

I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for as my bare feet padded across the hardwood floors, just anything to occupy the time until I could lay in my own bed. The halls seemed never ending as I wandered for what felt like hours, looking over old relics and paintings that scattered the house. I found myself back in the main dining room, gazing out of the floor to ceiling windows.

“Snooping, are we?” I jumped and turned to see Draco. He was only wearing pyjama bottoms slung low on his hips, broad chest out bare.

“I couldn’t sleep.” I mumbled back as I looked out the window again, gazing at the moon.

“Why’s that?” He strolled over to me.

“I don’t trust anyone in this house.” I shortly said back.

“Believe me, I know the feeling.” He was closer now, but I didn’t dare turn to see where he was.

I jumped as a hand landed on my waist, tugging me back into his body. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to have you alone?” He darkly whispered in my ear. “And not to mention in something to revealing.”

He daintly fiddled with the thin strap of the nightgown, inching it down my arm and sponging a kiss to my bare skin. My arms remained crossed over my chest as my breathing grew heavy.

“Do you want this?” He asked lowly in my ear. When I didn’t respond he nipped my lobe. “Answer when I speak to you.”

“Yes.” I sighed, mind cloudy from the lack of sleep and Dracos voice.

He spun me around and gently cupped my face, smiling down at me before pressing his lips to mine. My hands landed on his waist as his tongue dominated mine. He led us over to the table, pressing me against it and kissing down my neck.

“Get on the table.” He ordered.

I pulled myself up and blushed as he spread my thighs, standing between them.

He hummed in my ear, I frowned as he took a seat in front of me. “Lay back and put your feet on the table.”

I did as I was told and leant back, my legs still tightly pressed together. I gasped as he pried them apart, putting me on display for his.

“Good girl,” he hummed. “No underwear.”

He simply looked at me for a moment before slowly moving in, letting his hot breath fan over me. Small, chaste kisses were pressed against my thighs, his hands still holding them apart. His tongue darted out and wet the crease between my thighs and where I wanted him.

Suddenly, he licked a bold stripe up my centre. My hand clamped round my mouth as my eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to contain my moans. Dracos skilful tongue lightly flicked over my bundle of nerves before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. My free hand moved down to gently tug his hair, bucking my hips up to meet his lips.

He moaned against me and pinched my thighs. “God you taste better than I imagined.” He pulled away and stood, peering down at me with a glint in his eye. “Sit up.”

I looped my arms around his neck as I kissed him, tasting myself on his tongue. My hand skimmed down and rubbed over the tent that had formed in his trousers, Dracos low moan bouncing off of the walls.

“That’s is, take care of Daddy.” He said, pulling himself out and guiding my hand to stroke him.

I flicked my wrist slowly, looking at him. His eyes were squeezed closed, jaw tensing occasionally as he started to breath heavy. His hands were flexing on my waist, leaving deep indents in my skin. His eyes flicked open as his mouth gaped, lips slowly tugging into a smirk.

“I want to be inside you.” He growled, tugging my hand away.

He pulled me to the edge of the table, spreading my legs again. He pinned my arms above my head.

“Don’t move.” He warned.

I nodded and gasped as he sunk into me, moaning along with Draco. His hand came to wrap around my neck, ring offering something cool against my hot skin. My hands remained above my head, Draco moving his hips at a bruising pace.

“You like the way I fuck you, Little Girl?” He asked, squeezing my neck. I nodded. “This is my little cunt isn’t it? I get to abuse it whenever I want.”

“Daddy!” I moaned, hand breaking from where they were meant to be and wrapping around his forearm.

He chuckled darkly. “That’s it, let everyone know who your Daddy is.” He moaned. “Go on baby.”

“You’re my Daddy, Draco.” I sobbed.

“Fucking right I am.” He strained, wrapping his other hand around my neck as well. “I’m gonna cum inside you Little Girl, I’m gonna empty myself inside you.”

“Please.” I begged, his cock tipping me over the edge as I came with a small shout.

His hips stuttered, hands loosening around my neck as a deep groan left his lips. His mouth fell open as hot ropes of cum leaked into me, filling me up. He fell, head resting on my chest as he breathed deeply. My hands soothingly combed through his hair, his long arms wrapping around my middle and pulling me up to his chest.

“Merlin.” He whispered. “We definitely should have done that sooner.”

“Definitely.” I giggled.

He peered down at me with a smile, thumbs running over my lips. “Do you detest this house so much now?”

I blushed. “A certain someone made it better.”

[emilia3546]

Shadowsinger Part 14 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter

*

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

*****

Azriel shot a glare at Cassian as his brother raised an eyebrow and smirked at Azriel's arm around Gwyn's waist.

Drop it.

He put as much meaning into the glare as possible, Cassian relented, and Azriel rolled his eyes, but a part of him leapt for joy to see the color filling his face again, the light in his eyes, the fluidity of his movements. He couldn't help the half-smile when Cassian turned to the doorway behind him, and grinned, alive, he looked alive now.

Azriel followed Cassian's gaze to the doorway, ignoring the way his shadows were still dancing around Gwyn's feet, they hadn't stopped since they'd woken this morning, and with no sign of them ever stopping, Azriel had given up complaining. Feyre was grinning at him, with Rhys standing behind her, and Azriel raised an eyebrow,

"Nyx is asleep, and with Nuala." Rhys offered as an explanation, before dropping into the chair beside Azriel, with Feyre claiming the seat across from him, between Nesta and Emerie. Gwyn kept holding on to his hand even as the House provided breakfast, but he was forced to let go to eat, keeping half an eye on her even as he devoured the food in front of him, immediately clasping her hand again once he'd finished. Rhys glanced questioningly across at him, but there was nothing about Gwyn in his eyes, just the worry that had kept him, kept them all alive over the years. Azriel nodded, and rolled his shoulders, he was fine, hardly any pain at all, Madja's magic had all but done its work now. Rhys raised an eyebrow, but didn't object, passing his attention to Cassian, with a smile at Gwyn, which she gladly returned, and Azriel found himself mirroring her.

Still, that calmness that had crept over Gwyn faded the moment Emerie explained why she had really been so late to visit. Every rebel sympathizer in Windhaven had vanished, every last one. Even with Mor having sent his spies to confirm it before returning to the continent, Azriel winced visibly for not knowing, and Emerie shot him an apologetic look,

"When?"

"Three days ago." Three days, if he'd been here, if he'd been doing his damn job, they'd have known, would have been able to respond,

It's nothing we didn't expect, Rhys said into his mind at the same time that Gwyn squeezed his hand, And it's nothing that we weren't prepared for. His brother offered him a smile while Azriel grappled with the guilt threatening to rise again. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, no, he was here, and he would raise hell against anyone who threatened his family. When he opened his eyes, Rhys' smirk confirmed that there was nothing of the fear left in them, only the determination, the anger.

Whilst Emerie was explaining exactly what had happened, Cerridwen pushed open the door, and made her way silently across to him, handing him a report, from Illyria by the look of it. Azriel thanked her, and she vanished again, he skimmed the overview while the room fell silent, watching, waiting, and he sighed as he spoke,

"She's right. And it's not just Windhaven, it's all of Illyria. Just over a third of the males have disappeared, some of their families with them, some alone, but no idea where." That was his next move, to find them, wherever they had gone, gone or been taken, whichever it was. He hardly noticed his shadows stopping their dancing as he spoke, leaving his side entirely to hover around Gwyn, shrouding her in darkness, in safety. "I'm going to meet with some of my spies in a few hours, find out everything we know, and," he hesitated, preparing for the resistance to his next request, "It'd put my mind at ease if you'd get Gwyn a room in the River House, Rhys." Gwyn shot him a glare, but relented at the pleading look he offered, and Rhys nodded,

"If she wants it." Gwyn sighed, and nodded,

"It makes sense, it'll be easier to manage everything if we're all close together." Azriel hadn't realized how worried he'd been that she might refuse until she agreed, and he almost laughed at the joy that swept through him as she said 'we', she wanted to be a part of his family, she wouldn't shy away from that part of him. He planted a kiss on top of her head as he slipped away to head out to the meeting, not caring who might be watching, and left his shadows behind with her, all of them.

*****

Gwyn stared after Azriel even after he'd disappeared from view, hardly noticing the rest of the conversation until Nesta reached across the table to grasp Gwyn's hand,

"He'll be okay"

"I know. I just, I don't know," she shrugged, "I can't help it," Nesta chuckled softly,

"Tell me about it, that's the problem with these idiots isn't it?" Despite herself, Gwyn snorted, then burst out laughing at Rhysand's feigned offense when Feyre agreed. She couldn't completely banish her worry, but with her sisters there, with her friends there, she could push it aside, at least for now.

It didn't take long for Gwyn to be ready to move down to the River House, and she closed her eyes as Rhysand gently took her hand, preparing herself for the rush of wind as he winnowed them across Velaris. It didn't matter that she'd done it before, she still stumbled when they appeared in the garden, but caught herself before she could fall flat on her face,

"Alright?" She nodded, and made to speak, but the words died on her tongue when she locked eyes with someone else across the garden. It was a conscious effort not to reach for the missing necklace as Elain looked at her. Gwyn made to turn away, and thanked Rhysand for bringing her, but Elain shouted across the garden,

"Gwyneth! Wait!" Gwyn paused, and turned to face Elain, carefully controlling her gaze to avoid the glare that she wanted to fix her with, "I - I just wanted to apologize, I don't know what came over me, I just," she broke off, and reached for Gwyn's hands, gently squeezing them as she continued, "Seeing him with you, the way he was looking at you, I was jealous, it was stupid, and I had no right to be jealous, we never even had anything. It was just the way he was laughing and smiling with you, Cauldron, even his shadows love you, it just reminded me that I don't have that. I should never have taken it out on you. I regretted it instantly, I'm sorry, I wanted to apologize, but you'd already gone, then Az ran after you, and I just panicked. Nesta shouted at me afterwards, and I tried to find you, but by the time I got back you'd both gone, and I know we haven't really spoken much, but I don't want to leave it like this. I'm glad he has you, that you have him, and, if you can forgive me, I'd like to be your friend." Gwyn offered her a little smile,

"I'd like that." Elain beamed at her, and made to hug her, but froze, and Gwyn stepped towards her, "That's okay, I'm not fragile, I won't break."

"Oh, it's not that, I just wasn't sure if you would want me to touch you." Gwyn smiled again, and shook her head,

"Don't walk on eggshells around me, I don't want pity." Elain froze for a moment, then smiled, and laughed,

"Gods, no wonder you and Nesta get along so well. Thank you, for giving me a second chance."

"You made a mistake, just don't make the same one twice."

Rhysand was standing just inside, pretending he hadn't been listening, and Gwyn choked on a laugh,

"I spoke to Elain."

"Oh really?" He laughed, "I had no idea." Gwyn chuckled again,

"I assume there's a reason you're waiting for me?"

"Well I couldn't just leave you to wander around until you happened upon you room could I?" He gestured up the stairs, "Second on the left, and I don't want to leave you alone, there's nothing I can be doing until Az gets back, so if you don't want to be alone," he broke off when he noticed Gwyn staring into space, "Gwyn?" She started, and looked back across to him, "He's fine, I promise, not even I know where his meeting spots are." She nodded, then shook her head and laughed,

"I'll hold you to that, High Lord."

"High Lord? Oooof, that usually means I've royally fucked up."

"Not just yet." Gwyn chuckled and followed Rhys into a living room,

"While you're here, I wanted to ask you something." Gwyn nodded, "Azriel, is he actually okay? He regularly lies to me about his recovery from any injuries, and I assume you know?" Gwyn paused, trying to decide exactly what to tell him,

"He's not in much pain anymore, but, and I don't think he knows that I noticed, he still avoids twisting around, I think his ribs are a bit sore, but he is mostly alright." Rhys visibly relaxed,

"Thank you. I worry about him, we all do, I'm glad you found him."

"Found him?"

"I'm not blind, Gwyn." She shuffled on her chair, "He's happier than I've seen him in years, because of you."

"I'm not sure it's me,"

"It is you. And I don't want you, either of you, to think that you have to hide it from us, any of us, we won't push anything, but please, don't think you have to hide." Gwyn smiled, and pursed her lips,

"It's not that I'm worried about what you all might think, it's that I'm worried he might not want to be open about anything yet, it's only been a few days."

"A few days? Maybe since you admitted it, but it's been much longer than that." Longer? Perhaps it had been, she'd certainly been wanting to spend as much time as possible with him for a while now, and he'd never once complained, never shrunk away from her,

"He just understands me, that's all." Rhys chuckled again,

"He's never allowed any of us to know who he's been with before, I don't even know if he only likes females, or if he's also been with males." Gwyn chuckled,

"You have no idea?"

"None. But he never hid his feelings for you, he quite obviously made sure you were protected this morning, and I'll just say that he doesn't kiss me to say goodbye." Gwyn snorted with laughter at the image that sprung up in her mind,

"I'd say not." Gwyn's attention snapped across to the doorway, to a grinning Nesta,

"We're moving in too, makes life easier if we're close together at the moment."

*****

It took all of Azriel's self control not to fly back to Velaris at the first report, then even more at the second, and the third. Gone, the rebels were completely gone, not just from their camps, but from Illyria entirely. Velaris was safe, Velaris was safe, Rhys was actually there, there was no way the wards would fail whilst he was there. But Gwyn was there too, and she could be in danger, if an army of rebel Illyrians showed up even Gwyn would be at risk. He didn't need to rush back yet, not until he'd spoken to everyone.

Still, with each passing second, he found himself more and more tempted to gaze West, even if he couldn't see the city, let alone Gwyn from here, just to reassure himself that she wan't about to be attacked, to see that there was no airborne army heading fro the city. A familiar face appeared in the forest in front of him,

"The stars are bright tonight." She said, keeping her distance,

"They shine with the moon." She smiled the moment he finished speaking,

"I was worried that something had happened to you when Morrigan called us to meet,"

"It's a good job she doesn't know how the message system works, or she'd have tried to speak to you all individually." The female stepped towards him, and raised an eyebrow,

"Azriel."

"I'm fine, I was just, indisposed."

"That's a funny way of saying imprisoned by your asshole brother."

"It doesn't matter, you're here to tell me what everyone else could not."

"Keir has no idea that there's even been whisperings of rebellion in the mountains, if he had, you'd have the Darkbringers to contend with as well. As for where these 'rebels' might have gone, I'm afraid I have nothing, although it would be worthwhile to call reports from Hybern and the continent, perhaps they have gone there, or another Court."

"They're very unlikely to be at another Court, Helion would never allow it, nor would Thesan, Tarquin or Kallias, Beron might, but he sees Illyrians as lesser faeries, so I doubt it, and not even Tamlin is stupid enough to get involved in a war against us. Rhys is still mad at him for everything he did to Feyre, I don't think even she would be able to stop him if Tamlin ended up on the other side of a battlefield. But I will ask."

"You seem stressed."

"Oh really? What a surprise."

"You know what I mean. More than I would have expected, doesn't have anything to do with the priestess does it?"

"Don't you get involved too," Azriel groaned, "I already have Cassian grinning at me every time she and I are in the same room, and Rhys has caught on now, so Cauldron spare me if they get a chance to talk to her about whatever is between us."

"Can we expect to meet her at some point? I heard she helped you escape,"

"Helped is an understatement, she saved my life. Anyone she wants to meet will be up to her, but she may need to help me if this war kicks off like I'm expecting." Azriel tried to ignore the knowing smile, "I'm serious, Madelyn, don't get involved." Maddy snorted at his tone,

"Oh dear gods, you sound my father when I got home after my curfew." Azriel stiffened at the mention of Maddy's father, "Oh, stop it, go back to worrying about your girlfriend, and leave my miserable childhood out of it, although I must admit, it would be amusing to see his reaction to my life now, seventy-five, no husband, no children, I mean," she absentmindedly rubbed the ring on her left hand, "I suppose he ought to be pleased that I am married." Azriel smiled,

"Tell Josie I said hello, will you? And look after yourselves until I figure out exactly what our next move is." Maddy nodded, and waved before winnowing away. Azriel sighed as he noted the sun's position, just one more meeting, then he could get home.

*****

Gwyn closed her book with a sigh, the silence around her was broken only by her own breaths, and the sound of Azriel's shadows rootling through the bookshelves. She laughed out loud when they found a book and floated it across the air, dropping it into her lap before retreating to her shoulders to watch her read the title. Gwyn could have sworn that she sensed some sort of satisfaction, and amusement, but it wasn't fae, wasn't quite sentient either, it just sort of existed, a whisper next to her ear, but she couldn't quite make out the words,

"Is that you?" She demanded, reaching out for the shadows, and chuckled when they all shot for her left hand, "You remember that, huh? Don't scare me like that."

Or what?

Gwyn started at the distinct whisper, barely audible, but smirked at the offending shadow,

"Or I'll tell Azriel on you." She said, opening the book they'd brought her, ignoring the offended gasps from the shadows, at least until they took the book away from her, "Hey! I liked that book!" She couldn't make out their response, but from what she knew of them, it was probably for the best. She was still trying to get the book back when the front door opened, although she only noticed when Rhys called her name,

"Gwyn," he chuckled when she grabbed onto the book, immediately losing it as she lost concentration,

"That was your fault!"

"I'm sure, I thought you might like to meet Altheia, since you're here," Gwyn smiled softly at the Illyrian female stood behind Rhys, and her face lit up into a grin the moment Gwyn met her eyes. Gwyn had never met her before, but there was something familiar in her eyes, her smile,

"Just Theia, please, you're just as bad as the other two, Rhysie," Gwyn snorted at the nickname, and Theia smiled again, shoving Rhys out of the way, "I hear you've been looking after my Azzy, thank you." Her Azzy? Gwyn struggled for words, but Theia continued, "You're even more beautiful than his letters said."

"You're his Mom?" Theia nodded, and grinned,

"He wouldn't tell me much, but Rhysie mentioned a few things when he came to fetch me, apparently it's not safe any more, so thank you for looking after him, Cauldron knows he needs it sometimes."

"You're telling me," Gwyn muttered, and laughed when Theia collapsed into an armchair, twisting her wings carefully to avoiding sitting on them, "it's like he's trying to get himself killed sometimes."

"No matter what you or I say, he'll still be the idiot he's always been. Rhysie says that you've been training with Azzy and Cass, you revived the Valkyries?"

"Yes, and Nesta, Feyre's sister, Cassian's mate, she and Cass have moved down here as well, so I'm sure you'll meet her soon, and Emerie, from Windhaven. Nesta began training first, then she got us to join her, and we're starting to try to rebuild a proper Valkyrie unit. We're by no means experts, but we've done as much research as possible, and Cass actually fought alongside them! He's been helping us to replicate old Valkyrie training as best as possible, and Az has been teaching me how to move and fight silently, and-" Gwyn broke off as a book landed in her lap, the same book that the shadows had stolen earlier, "And these pains in the ass have adopted me." She froze as she realized that she'd been rambling, "Sorry, I talk a lot when I'm nervous,"

"You have no reason to be nervous, I'm thrilled to finally meet you. It's not every female that will will really see my son, and not be frightened off, I don't think he could frighten you off, I think you see beneath the frightening front he puts on."

"It's difficult not to when you've seen him in the morning. A while ago, there was some magic with the library that went wrong and attacked me, and he slept in a chair next to me all night. When I woke up in the morning, he was still there, and gods, his hair was ridiculous, I don't know what he did to deal with it, 'cause I failed miserably!" Theia nodded, and chuckled,

"You should see it every time he comes to visit me, even after he's tried to tidy it from the flight, it's always messy."

*****

Azriel sighed as he trudged up the steps to the River House, desperate to bathe and check that everyone was still alive, especially Gwyn. He froze when he heard her laugh floating down the corridor, and another's, that wasn't possible, she wasn't here. Azriel followed the sound, and almost laughed with joy at the sight of his mother sitting across from Gwyn, laughing about anything and everything,

"Hi, Mom."

"Azzy!" Theia shot to her feet, immediately throwing her arms around him, and tutted at the sight of his hair, trying to flatten it back down,

"Mom! I've been flying, it's fine." Gwyn just giggled,

"Dreadful, isn't he?"

"You just wait, sweetheart," wait for what? What were they planning? "Oh don't look so frightened, Azzy, we don't have any evil master plans. Yet," she added, grinning at Gwyn, but made to leave them to talk, lingering long enough to see Azriel pull Gwyn to her feet and embrace her,

"Nothing helpful." He muttered, letting out a sigh,

"At least we know where to start looking, there can't be any immediate threat, right?"

"Probably not, but it would be just my luck that there's a sneak attack on the city while i'm not here to watch your back." Gwyn pulled back just enough to meet his eyes,

"How would they manage that? In case you didn't notice, Rhys is in the city, those wards are not breaking."

"I know, I know, I just worry." Azriel's head snapped back to the door when Rhys appeared there, Cassian and Nesta on his heels,

"What is the big deal, Rhysand?" Nesta snapped, "We were about to go to bed, there'd better be a good reason you're keeping me from sleeping."

"Oh, there is. The mortal queens have declared war on the  Night Court."

[thran-duils]

Total Eclipse (P.3)

Title: Total Eclipse (Part Three) Summary: Fem!Reader x Sherlock Holmes (RDJ). Sherlock had an impression on the reader from a formative age but he was always so busy running with cases. Their moments of passions were coveted between the two but they were few and far between. He left with Watson on a case and in that time, her parents found her a suitable man to give her to. Wealthy and accomplished. Sherlock and her have not been able to let go of each other though. Words: 5,365 Warnings (for the whole fic): Angst, infidelity, smut, swearing, substance abuse, non liner storyline, character death, 18+ as always Author’s Note: This whole chapter is backstory, hence why it’s all italics. I got really carried away, my b. The next chapter will resume current time and the plot will move on there. Heavy angst this chapter and smut!

Part Two || Part Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Your family left you in London when they went back to the country estate after the season had ended. Your mother was hell bent on finding you a suitor and even in the off season, she wanted you in sights on the streets, at cafes, restaurants. She wanted you out of the house too, one less mouth to feed. Your family was well off enough, but she was growing more embarrassed about an imagined slight against her of you not marrying off younger. As if your martial problems were a reflection on her…. But that is what society saw it as and it was how she reacted.

Despite the passive aggressive hostility between the two of you, this was going to be a blessing. Your great aunt retired early in the night, and you were given more freedom. Not to mention your great aunt was far more progressive in her views. It was shocking to you in the first place your mother allowed you to stay with her at all without supervision, but you kept your lips sealed. You were not going to pass this up.

Standing beside your aunt outside the florist shop where she was examining the seeds for her spring garden to plant this fall, you listened dully to Emily, the florist, tell her the layout to have them planted for the best coloring. You felt the uncomfortable feeling of someone watching you. Turning nonchalantly, your eyes scanned the square lazily. You spotted a man across the square with curly hair and a large, overgrown mustache. You furrowed your brow if only for a moment at his blatant staring.

Tearing your eyes away from him to not invite conversation or any indication you were interested, you looked back to your aunt still speaking with the florist.

“Love, would you go across the square to get me a bun? It is driving me insane to smell them fresh,” your aunt told you, touching your arm gently. “And get one for Emily too.”

The last thing you wanted to do was walk away from her and have this man approach you, but you nodded. You made sure to not look in his direction as you walked across the cobblestone towards the bakery. Out of your peripherals, you caught movement in his general direction, and you scowled. You hated brushing off advances, but it seemed you were going to have to do it. He was certainly following you.

Walking into the bakery, you waited patiently while the baker helped the two people already ahead of you.

The air shifted at your back and you closed your eyes, readying for the drawling of a desperate man.

“So, you were left behind.”

The whisper caused you to burst your eyelids open and you turned halfway to face the man. You found it was the man with the large mustache but that was certainly Sherlock’s voice. You scanned his face and realized immediately you recognized his eyes.

Stammering, you asked, “W-what are you doing?”

“Is there a problem, miss?” one of the men who had been being assisted asked, stopping when he saw your state.

You recovered quickly and straightened. “No, no, sir. Sorry. I was just startled by my acquaintance. I did not expect to see him out and about… like this. I apologize.”

The man nodded and walked on, leaving you to narrow your eyes at Sherlock.

“Give me a minute,” you told him before turning back and walking up to the counter. You ordered your buns, adding a fourth, before coming back to him waiting. He gave you a curt nod gesturing towards the door.

As soon as you were outside, you stepped off to the side, out of sight from the window of the bakery.

“What are you doing? What is this? Are you alright?” you asked, throwing all these questions at him in a hushed voice. You held out the fourth bun to him and he eyed it before taking it.

“Much obliged. I haven’t had breakfast,” he told you. He touched at his mustache and said thoughtfully, “Although, I will have to save it. This will make it difficult to eat.”

“It makes you difficult to recognize!”

“That is the point of a disguise, Miss Y/N.”

“Why are you wearing a disguise at all?”

“Well, I can’t just be myself all the time following you can I? That would be suspicious. Especially if your escort continued catching sight of me.”

“And following me in a disguise does not scream ‘stalker’ to you?”

Sherlock looked taken aback. “’Stalker’?”

“Is that not what you’re doing?”

Sniffing, he said, “I was merely checking up on you. I hardly would refer to that as stalking.”

“How did you know I was staying with my great aunt then and not at my family’s home?” Sherlock was silent and you intoned, “That’s what I thought.”

“Well, I was going to invite you to a play but now I am having second thoughts.”

Your eyes lit at this, and you said, “What play?”

“I said I was having second thoughts.”

“Well, maybe I’m having second thoughts about getting you a bun,” you retorted, immediately holding out your hand for him to return it.

He frowned and held it tighter, causing you to smirk.

“You would need to sneak away from dinner tonight.”

“I’m going out to Sweetings with my aunt.”

“Makes it more difficult. What if I told you the play was tonight, and you could use that as an excuse? A date with a gentlemen?”

All it took was him walking you back to outside the florists shop and the two of you exchanging pleasantries, him inviting you to dinner, you telling him you would have to check and that you would send word. Of course, your aunt did not know he had given a fake address. She was questioning of his name you gave but she did not pry too deeply.

<><><>

Seeing Sherlock was again not looking at the stage, instead his eyes wandering around the theater, you leaned over, lips close to his ear.

“You’re distracted,” you whispered.

He turned his head and now your noses were almost touching. Your lips parted, eyes locked with his. He swallowed sharply, blinking.

“That I am,” he responded, flustered before pulling away much to your disappointment.

He grasped your hand, “Come with me.”

You almost protested as he pulled you from your seat. It was terribly rude to leave in the middle of a play, not only towards the actors and actresses but the people you were having to walk by. Sherlock did not seem to care though.

A man was following the two of you up the aisle and out the doors. When he started following the pair of you up the stairs to the second floor and down the hall, keeping distance though, you cleared your throat.

“Sherlock, I think we have a tail,” you whispered out the corner of your mouth, keeping stride with him.

“I’m aware,” he returned quietly. Louder in his normal voice, he asked, “Love, do you need to use the lavatory?”

“No?” you hissed at him, confounded.

He shot you a look and you took the hint, nodding. “Yes.”

Sherlock took a sharp left with you down the hall. “Well, let’s find them for you. I’ll wait here.”

He egged you on with an encouraging hand at your waist. You did what he asked to continue down the hall, your heart beating. He pointed at a door and gesture for you to go inside. As the door closed behind you, you were thinking wildly about what was going on? Did he even have a plan?

“You shouldn’t be here,” an unfamiliar voice said from down the hall back where Sherlock was standing. Your ear was pressed up against the door.

“And your employer shouldn’t have taken what he did. It has been quite the goose chase figuring out where the piece was.”

“Where’s your lovely friend?”

“Went on to find the lavatory.”

Suddenly you heard a loud grunt and a crash. There was scuffling outside, and you pressed your hands against the door, debating if you should open the door or not. What if he was getting hurt?

The noise stopped and all you heard was your pounding heart.

Until to your immense relief, you heard Sherlock said, “Took you long enough. Were you too caught up in the show?”

You barely got out of the way before the door was opening, Sherlock thrusting it open. You stumbled a little as you flung yourself backwards and he reached in quick, steadying you. There was not a mark on him.

He pulled you from the room and you were faced with the man that had been pursuing the two of you, slumped against the wall. And another man standing there, pushing his hair back into place to look presentable again.

“Watson saved the day,” Sherlock told you, giving you a grin. “Flatmate that I mentioned. He can be helpful at times.”

“Holmes,” Watson said exasperated.

“’Holmes’?” you questioned, smiling slyly at Sherlock.

He looked entirely displeased at you before he shot Watson an annoyed look.

“Yes, John?”

Oh… he was getting back at John Watson then for exposing him as either Holmes Sherlock or Sherlock Holmes. You believed the latter sounded more plausible.

Realization dawned on you then.

“Hey, I’ve heard of you!” you said in an excited whisper and your breath caught when he jerked you towards him.

“Darling, we must be quiet now. Watson caused some ruckus out here,” he informed you. That was until it registered to him what you said, and he cocked his head. He leaned in, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, and whispered, “Heard of me where?”

“The newspapers!”

“What newspapers?”

“Where you solved a case with Scotland Yard! You hid your face—”

“I always hide my face.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were an investigator?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t say investigator—"

“Holmes, we do not have time for this,” John cut in impatiently in a harsh whisper, catching both of your attention.

“Right,” Sherlock answered, looping arms with you, cutting your conversation off. That was intimate, it was unproper for men to do this for women they were not engaged, married, or related to.

Watson led you back down the hall towards the main drag. He was cordial to the passing workers who were fetching refreshments for the people in their boxes. He led the two of you up another flight of stairs to the third floor.

Sherlock leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Now, dear, there might be some more violence. I may have to shove you in another closet.”

“Or I can stay out here.” Sherlock looked at you surprised, and you told him. “I can be useful.”

Suddenly, he pushed you up against the wall as loud applause erupted, putting a hand up to block your face. John was beside the two of you now, further blocking you from seeing down the hall.

“He’s leaving the box. It must be in between acts. It has to be happening now. Now, there is that room at the end of the hallway. Is he heading there?” John said in hushed tones to Sherlock.

Sherlock peeked around Watson’s shoulder, eyes searching. “He’s going to the room. He’s got two men with him. Broad. Should be a good time. You’ve needed that jacket mended on the hem for quite some time though, so perhaps it’ll serve well to have it fully needing to be tossed out.”

Watson looked completely unamused at Sherlock’s comment directed at him.

To you now, Sherlock implored, “Seriously, Miss Y/N, I would encourage you to heed my advice and stay out here. It should not take too long for Watson and I to retrieve what we need to.”

Sighing disappointed, you told him, “Fine. Don’t get yourself hurt.”

Sherlock smirked, “That would be incredibly rude of me considering I need to escort you home.”

“It would,” you agreed, and he pulled away from you.

Watson was watching the two of you closely, looking interested.

They left you.

The minutes dragged on after they disappeared into the room. People were milling about in the hall, waiters offering drink. You meandered closer to the door, curious about what exactly it was that Sherlock was retrieving.

Suddenly, the door burst open, two figures coming tumbling out. People yelled in alarm, the crowd dispersing as they jumped back up to your feet. You recognized Sherlock immediately as one of them. He had blood on his cheek and he was disheveled. They came at each other again and tangled up, throwing punches. He was tossed back towards the door.

Looking around wildly, you spotted a large bottle of vodka on one of the waiter carts and grabbed it. Before the man could advance again, you brought it across the back of his head, the glass shattering and the vodka spilling all over the man’s clothes. But he was knocked out, his knees buckling beneath him and falling to the floor.

Sherlock was back on his feet, looking at you in shock for just a moment before he came forward in a rush, grabbing your arm. “Quickly now,” he told you breathless. “We haven’t much time until the authorities show up!”

In awe at what you had done, you let him drag you along.

“Where is Watson?”

“He’ll be along shortly.”

The two of you were out of the theater and out onto the street. You were stumbling trying to keep up with his fast pace. He led you a few blocks down before turning the corner into an alley. That was when he finally began to slow down.

“What happened?” you demanded after you caught your bearings.

“More than the two men that went in there with our target. Things got a little tricky.”

You took your glove off and used it to wipe at his cheek. He winced and he commented, “You’re ruining your gloves.”

“Your face is bleeding!” you protested. You saw the blood was originating from a rather large cut.

“Hardly noticed,” Sherlock responded. He cocked his head and said, “You certainly made that other man bleed with that bottle.”

“I told you I could be useful.”

“It seems that is so…”

You had cleaned up most of his face. There was nothing to do about his hair but that was no matter.

The further you were from the theater, the more you realized what exactly had happened, your excitement thrumming beneath your skin was switching from shock to thrill. You had been in a fight. There had been henchmen. Sherlock was a detective and had taken you along on one of his cases. Which raised the question.

“Why did you bring me along?” you demanded. “Did you know it would be this dangerous?”

“I needed a date for entrance. And one I believed I could trust. As for danger, it is usually lurking around every corner, so of course I anticipated it. But, the degree is always in question.”

“Trust? You barely know me. Also, Watson didn’t have a date?”

Sherlock pointedly ignored the last point you made, “I’m good at reading people. And you proved I could trust you, especially in a fight. Plus, you said you wanted adventure.” He tilted his head towards you, asking sincerely, “Tell me, how am I doing providing that for you?”

You yanked him to you by the lapels of his coat, your lips crashing together. He was stunned as you pulled away.

“That was so exciting!” you said, caught up in your emotion.

Someone cleared their throat. Watson was standing there further down the alley. Sherlock hands came up to yours still grasping his lapels and he pulled your hands away. His thumb caressed the hand further away from Watson, concealing the touch, before he let you go.

“Right, well, we’ve retrieved the stolen items. That’s what we came here to do, correct?” Sherlock asked, reaching into his coat, pulling out an extravagant necklace and earring set. “Shall we move further away from the scene of the crime? Preferably to make sure Miss Y/N gets home safely.”

He barely saw Watson move towards the pair of you before he looped arms with you again and began walking. The trio of you caught a Hansom cab to return you home. On the trip, you offered Watson your other glove and said, “Sherlock’s already bloodied the other one. They might as well match.”

Watson actually chuckled at that and took it from you gratefully, wiping at the cut on his forehead. You caught Sherlock was amused by your comment and you sent him a quick, close lipped smile before pointing out to Watson he had missed a spot.

When the carriage pulled up outside, you looked at Sherlock and said, “However will I contact you if you do not give me an address?”

“Bold of you to ask for a man’s address,” Sherlock commented.

“You’ve been using that adjective to describe me since the moment we met. And I’m merely asking in case I need a date somewhere and need one for entrance,” you said, turning his words back to him.

Sherlock’s eyes crinkled and he said, “Touche.” He leaned out the window, “The lady is getting out. After she does, 221B Baker Street.”

You opened the door yourself and got out before either of them could react. You turned back to the door and said, “Expect a letter then. Pleasure to meet you, John. Thank you for the invigorating night, Sherlock. I surely will not forget it.”

With that you closed the door, and turned, leaving them.

Inside the cab, Watson looked across at Sherlock who was watching Y/N go through the gate and up the stairs as the carriage took off again. Sherlock felt Watson staring and turned his head back when Y/N was out of sight.

“Wherever did you meet her, Sherlock? And how long has this been going on?”

<><><>

There were small get togethers still held in the off season, especially underground, and you had sent Sherlock a note, letting him know you would be at it, extending an invitation. You were on the minds of the hosts as one not to report debauchery, which is what this party consist of. And through them, you had secured that invite for Sherlock on your word he would not speak of what transpired there either.

You were accompanied by three girls younger than you, who were eager to meet some of the men attending. They cared not you were a tad older, actually were relying on you to give them guidance. They knew you were not a virgin and one confided to you she was not either. Your advice to them was to stay away from Lord Timothy and Mister Wilhelm… they both carried disease. The girls had giggled at first before they realized you were serious. You had been warned yourself by someone older than you during your first season.

You found yourself wandering through this party, keeping an eye out. He had responded he would attend. It would be the first time you would see him since Watson and him had dropped you off at your aunt’s after that night at the theater. It had been over a week.

There were card games going on, women sitting in men’s laps, libations and drugs passed around freely.

“My, my, a woman without thick or long sleeves and baring shoulder,” you heard him comment from behind you. Turning, he was standing, hands clasped behind his back. “You’re barely wearing anything at all… what would your mother say?”

“Barely wearing anything?” you repeated, coming to him. “I have a dress on!”

“But it is improper. The scandal!” Sherlock commented dramatically.

“You don’t approve?”

“I prefer it. Your skin is beautiful.”

That was the first time he had commented on anything other than your clothing and your heart jumped. You kept your bearings though.

Cocking an eyebrow, you asked, “Sir, I thought you said it was inappropriate to comment on features. You are so indecent!”

“Yet, you’re still standing here with me.”

“That I am… How satisfied you must be.”

“Quite.” His eyes were alight.

You shook your head, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “Well, are you going to offer to find us drinks?”

Offering his arm, you took it, allowing him to take you towards a table where one of the servers would come by to take an order. The two of you spent the next couple hours drinking and speaking in hushed tones about his work and what was going on with you and he even engaged in politics with you. Throughout the conversation, you had gotten closer to him in the booth, your bodies almost touching.

“You’re here with others…” he commented out of the blue. You confirmed you were and he asked, “Do they need you here?”

“Why?”

Sherlock’s eyes ran over the room quickly before he said, “I am growing tired of the crowd. You could sneak away with me? I have a carriage waiting outside and there is a vintage bottle of brandy at my residence.”

He was… inviting you back to his place? You would be lying if you said you had not been living that kiss over and over again.

Coy, you asked, “That seems a long time to ‘sneak away’.”

“Well, then you could go tell them you are not feeling well. I could pretend you spilled on me, offer to take you home…” he made a face and said. “Honestly, I could handle you even geting sick on me cause I packed a second waist coat.”

Laughing, you asked, “Did you plan this?”

“What would your reaction be if I did?” He examined you closely. He grunted lightly as you came close, your body flush against his. He looked at you in interest. “Forward as ever, are we?”

You slapped his chest and he grinned, taking that as a yes.

<><><>

“This is your place?”

“Well, I rent this room specifically. Watson has another,” Sherlock answered, tossing his coat on the back of a chair. His vest followed suit, leaving him in his dress shirt and suspenders. “You are not shocked by how unorganized I am?”

“There is a lot of things to look at,” you said honestly, picking up a leaf and touching the soil. “You could certainly water more though. That I will judge.”

“You’re quite mouthy.” You heard him popping the cork out of the brandy he had mentioned. “Especially for being the guest.”

“Are you complaining?” you questioned, throwing a look over your shoulder, watching him pour the pair of you small glasses. You were unsure you would be able to handle another drink; you were already buzzed, and you did not want to be too drunk for what you were expecting to come. You wandered further into the room, finding his bed.

You noticed the light film of dust across the pillow you were closest to. “Where do you even sleep? Do you ever sleep?” Running your finger across it, you rose your brows. You flicked the small dust gathering from your finger.

“Yes. But not there.” He was closer now, holding both glasses.

“Well, I hope to change your stance on that,” you said carelessly, tossing the covers back. You grabbed one of the pillows and shook it out before tossing it back.

Sherlock commented, “You are trouble.”

“Am I?” you asked, not looking at him still as you shook out another pillow.

Sherlock was quiet behind you as you began to undress. Your bodice was tossed carelessly to the side and you pulled your skirt over your head, leaving you in your undergarments. You tossed a look over your shoulder, finding him looking at you with rapt attention, his knuckles white on the glasses he was clutching so hard. Your lashes brushed your cheeks as you looked down at your petticoat, releasing it. Your corset and chemise followed, you kicking your heels off.

You turned, facing him, completely nude. You were baring your dignity and your body to him, hoping he would respond in like. He was transfixed and you took that as an invitation to crawl onto his bed, sitting back on your calves. You would be the one to mess it up, get him to sleep in it for the first time in a long time.

He placed the glasses down before turning back to you. He walked forward and you got up onto your knees as he approached. You gestured him closer, and he came to you. You pushed his suspenders off his arms, letting them fall to his sides. Your fingers found the buttons on his shirt, unbuttoning them, the two of your gazes locked. He let you tear it off, throwing it aside before you went to work on his sacks. His hand gripped your wrist as you went to free him from his slacks and a grin broke out.

You kissed the tip of his nose and asked, “Why are we stalling?”

“I’m just thinking of you getting caught. And your family asking for me to hang—”

You silenced him by shoving your lips to his, and he grunted at the impact. He quickly fell into it though.

Good. You had succeeded in getting him to shut the hell up. If even for a moment. You pushed at his slacks and he got the message, pushing them down himself and kicking them off along with his shoes.

You pulled at him, and he followed you, not wanting to let you go. His dick was growing hard, brushing against your skin as you brought him onto the bed. Lying back, he came in between your legs, hovering over you as the two of you were locked in passionate kisses.

His lips trailed up the inside of your thighs. His lips were soft, yet you shuddered at the brush from the stubble of his beard. He kissed up your stomach again, coming up between your breasts. He found your mouth again, his tongue slipping in.

He sunk into you slowly, and your fingers dug into his shoulders as you took each inch, breathing steadily. His lips peppered your shoulder, before sneaking back up. Sucking roughly at your neck, his teeth drug as he drove into you at a slow, steady pace. Small noises left you as you adjusted to his width.

Sherlock was lustful but he relied on passion rather than rough thrusts. He drove deep, holding you securely.

“On your back,” you rasped, wanting to please him.

He followed your order and you found yourself on top. You took him again, sinking into his length. You rode him, moaning, fingernails digging into his chest. His hands were gripping tight at your thighs and hips, low groans emanating from deep in his throat.

You stared into his eyes as you repeatedly sunk onto him, breathless and full of him.

<><><>

Nervously, you sat down on the bench beside Sherlock. He had sent you a note, somehow getting it into your bedroom without anyone in the house noticing. He had been away on a case and during that time, your hand had been forced finally. He looked bleak.

“I saw you are engaged.” He sniffed indignantly, looking out over the water. So, that is how he was going to greet you, cut right to the chase.

“You had time to be the name opposite of mine in that announcement.”

The two of you had been sneaking around either to meet each other for midnight trysts or accompanying him for over a year and a half. And during that time, you had convinced your mother to let you stay at your aunt’s, which granted you the freedom to do so.

He looked piqued. “I told you I was not ready. And I told you I would not be suitable for your parents. You needed to allow me to assist you in finding fortune to raise funds for yourself before moving out.”

“I was caught sneaking out with you.” He looked at you stunned, and you said, “Yes. Our time at The Everlade. Right before you went on this last case. I walked back inside the back door and my aunt was waiting there. There had been too many late nights and the staff had gossiped to her. It was the last straw… I was cornered and I was accused of sleeping around and I didn’t get out to or send you a note to tell you before you left.” He was silent still and you said, “I didn’t give your name up if that is what you are worried about.”

“Of course that’s not what I’m worried about,” Sherlock scoffed immediately.

“I had to choose between my great aunt telling my parents I had been sleeping with someone or behave and take the proposal she had been offered on my behalf.” You noticed the look on his face and sighed heavily. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Sherlock. I had no choice! And did you expect me to become a spinster?”

“I am years your senior and I’m still single,” he argued.

“You’re also a man.”

“You evaded it — marriage, the dredges — for years.”

“I did. At the whim of my parents! I cannot get a place on my own. And if word got around that I was being… loose,” Sherlock bristled at the term because sleeping with one man was not being loose but outside of traditional marriage – something he did not abide by which influenced his feelings on the matter – you were as good as a harlot. And that is what society believed so it was what you had to play by. “I would have been ruined.”

Sherlock huffed.

“It’s true and you know it! I was stuck under their roof! All that time. And we had something, something great. And then I got stuck under that proposal!”

“You could have moved in with me.”

“Oh? To a place with two men? That’s what I could’ve done? That would have looked savory, Sherlock! So then not only would it have been one man I was sleeping with, it would have been two!”

“There’s an attic!”

“You wanted me in the attic?”

“Of course not!” Sherlock snapped sourly. “But it would have been the convenient excuse.”

“Except for your house maid.”

Sherlock scowled at the mention of Mrs. Hudson.

You turned to face him more fully and for the first time he looked at you completely. “Propose to me.” He was stoic and you reached for his hand. “If I had another proposal—"

Sherlock pulled his hand away and you felt a deep pang of hurt. He was gruff when he said, “Your parents won’t accept it. I know who Arthur Cole is. Read up on him. He is drowning in his lineage’s fortune.”

Of course, he was right. They had been overjoyed at the proposal, knowing not only that you would be set financially but they would benefit from it as well.

Your voice was meek when you agreed, “No… they won’t.”

“Then it’s settled then. I knew how this would end.” He cleared his throat and you saw his eyes were wet and your own were following suit, devastated at what was happening. He could not even look at you when he said, his voice barely above shaking, “It does not make it hurt any less.”

He got up from the bench quickly. “Good day.”

“Sherlock. We do not have to end like this,” you protested, reaching for him again but he was out of your reach. You got up now and pleaded, “I do not want to not see you.” He continued walking off and you followed a few steps, trying again. “Sherlock, please!”

You were only met with silence and your feet came to a stop. It would not look good for you to be running after him, especially now since that word could get back to your fiancé. So, your breath shuddered, watching him walk further and further down the path, leaving you behind.

~~~

Fic tags: @undecidedsworld @mcnegan

[pixie88]

New Home

Chapter 1 - Addicted to you.  

A/N: Here’s the first chapter of ATY! It’s set 2 months later and a bit has happened since the last chapter. I hope you like it 😘  

Tagging those who asked to be tagged but if you want to be added let me know!

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2018

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy! 😘  

2 Months later.

Both their flats had been sold and were going through the process of signing their properties over, they had viewed a few houses, none of which neither of them could see themselves living there.

They were viewing an old end terrace house one afternoon. Which had been recently renovated, as they walked in the stairs were on the left with a door at front which the estate agent said could be a separate dining room. The door opposite on the right was the living room and to the end of the hallway was the door to a spacious kitchen/dining room which had lead into the garden through some French doors.

For a house in London the garden was bigger than usual. Upstairs the 1st floor had 2 bedrooms, a bathroom with a freestanding tub. The loft which was the second floor had been converted into another bedroom with an en suite.

Both Laila and Harry couldn't believe how lovely this property was. It was perfect for them, it was on the edge of London, so not as busy as where their flat were.

It was an extra ten minutes travel time to the salon Laila worked at but this made her consider whether to go self employed. Harry's gym was five minutes closer, so work, travel wasn't an issue with him. They decided to put an offer in, a few days later they got the call saying another buyer had pulled out and if they were still interested the seller was willing to accept their offer.

Everything was going good for them even Vicky had been sent to prison for 3 years for criminal damage.

Remy was taking things super slow with Melissa but they were getting on well.

Moving in day.

"Lift with your legs Rem's." Alec calls over to him. "I....AM....FUCK! Laila, what the hell is in this box?" she looks over to him. "Erm...shoes, I think," she wanders over to him, checking out the box "Nope, Harry's weights!" she laughs, "No, wonder I can't lift it" he says as he's struggling with the box.

Harry wanders over taking the box off Remy and throws it onto his shoulder. "Alright, show off!" Remy calls after Harry as he picks up another box. Laila rolls her eyes at the both of them   grabbing a box herself, following Harry upstairs to their bedroom "So, Miss. Carelli, any regrets?" she looks over to him and laughs as she puts down the box "Just one!" she winks "Really?"

"Yeah, offering to get our friends a Chinese take away after they helped us unpack. When we could have had the place to ourselves and christened every surface." she says, her arms loop around his neck and he sighs, "We were stupid! Why did we do that?" he chuckles.

"We were!" she kisses his lips, he moves them backwards until she's pressed between him and the bedroom wall. He invades her mouth, they hear footstep coming up the stairs and they spring apart "We better get the rest of these boxes in before I won't be able to pull away" he pulls her with him.

Later.

Laila is sat on the sofa with Priya and Katrina "This is such a lovely house. I have house envy" Katrina tells her, "We were very lucky to find this place, some of the other places were awful!"

Priya looks out to the hallway at Harry and Will trying to get their new bed up the stairs "Moving in with Popeye is why I'm green with envy! I bet he just throws you over his shoulder with ease! If Chris tried that with me, he'd end up throwing his back out" Priya laughs.

"Aww poor, Chris!" Laila laughs. "He might not be able to do that, but he certainly is able to do other things!" Priya winks, Laila pretends to gag "Max has no trouble throwing me over his shoulder." Katrina adds "Oh my god! Please stop I don't want to picture my brothers in that way!"

The three girls laugh sipping their wine.

Laila wanders into the kitchen to get a top up, Chris, Arthur and Max are in there filling their plates again "Hey, you three!" Max nods with his mouth full. "Alright, Laila! Thanks for this!" Chris smiles as he nods towards the Chinese takeaway "No, thank you guys for helping us move in," she smiles at the three guys. "If you need any help with anything give us a shout, especially if you guys are going to pay in booze and food," Arthur chuckles.

"Yeah, same goes for me!" Max winks at his sister, Chris shook his head at his brother. "Well, I for one am glad to see you happy again!" he pulls her in for a hug. "Aww... thanks, Chris!" Laila blushes, "I didn't think I'd see you in love again after Josh but just the way you two look at each other. I've got nothing to worry about."

Laila kisses her brother on the cheek "He is a lovely bloke," Max winks over at her. "I just glad he's moved on after that last chick, she did a number on him," Arthur says as he makes his way over to her, he looks towards the door as if to check the coast is clear "The truth is I never liked her, there was just something about her that was..well....off. Even dad didn't warm to her..EVER! Then he meet you as soon as he mentioned you to us you could tell you had him hooked." Laila blushes at his words "He has me just as hooked," she laughs.

After she tops up her glass she goes in search of him "There you are!" he's upstairs with Will putting up their bed "Hey gorgeous, where's the bed sheets?" he looks up at her. "I'm pretty sure they are in a box in here," she starts looking through the boxes. "Harry, you hold it up and I'll bolt this end" Will orders him, Laila watches him lifting the side of the bed that is attached to the headboard while Will bolts the foot of the bed to it.

His arms are bulging while he lifts it, Harry notices her looking "Like something you see?" he smirks at her "Maybe!" she winks at him and he laughs, "Hello guys, I'm still here!" Will shook his head "We better stop or he will and we can't test it out later gorgeous!" Harry teases "You two need to get a room!" Will says. "We do but you're in the way!" Harry jokes.

Laila laughs, "Stop whining him up!" Laila finds the bedding "I'll put this over here, thanks for the helping, Will" she places the bedding on the dresser.

Later.

After everyone had left they climbed into bed "Our first night in our new home!" she says as she cuddles up to him, he strokes her hair as she lays her head on his chest. "First of many," she lifts her head and looks up at him, he claims her lips before flipping her onto her back, his body covered hers.

He grinds his hips against hers, letting her know he isn't ready for sleep just get.

A few days later.

Laila finishes work early because a client canceled, she walks through the front door and can hear drilling coming from the separate dining room. She calls out to Harry confused as he was supposed to be at work, "Harry?" she steps closer to the door when it swings open. "Laila?! You're home early!" he says coming out of the room, closing it behind him "I could say the same to you! What are you doing in there?" she asks.

"Nothing, how was work?" he tries to change the subject "Harry, why are you changing the subject?" she asks him, he shrugs his shoulder, "I don't know what you mean!" she decides to try and push pass him to have a look, but he stops her "OK, you know that idea you gave me about turning it into a home gym...well, I decided to do it. But at the moment it's a bit of a mess in there I want to show you once it's completed, so will you promise to stay out until its done?" she smiles at him "I'm glad you decided to do it and I promise to keep our until you've finished" he sighs with relief.

A Weeks later.

Laila is finishing up at work when Harry wanders into the salon "Hey gorgeous, you ready?" he smiles at her. "Yeah, I'll just grab my bag.”

As they're walking down the road Harry can't stop smiling "Why are you grinning like an idiot?" she asks, "Max and I got the room finished today, so when we get home, I can finally show you," she links her fingers through his "This is where part where I'll hardly ever see you because your working out," she winks at him "Nah, I think you're get more use out of it then me!"

She laughs, "I've told you I don't like working out in gyms." she nudges him "Who said anything about working out," he winks at her and she blushes.

When they arrive home Harry stops her, "Wait, you need to put this on!" he hands her a blindfold "Really? I don't need this for a home gym!" he sighs, "Please? For me!" she huffed "Fine!!" placing it over her eyes Harry leads her into the converted room "Just around this corner."

"Corner? What corner?" she asks, confused "I put in a wall, so when you walk through the door you have to come round to see it. Now stand there" his lips brush her ear, "I'm going to pull it off on 3, OK?" she nods "1.....2......3" the blindfold is off her eyes adjust, but she's confused "Harry....."

"What?....Where's the g..? What's this?" she asks, he smiles "Laila, you have been on about getting your own salon for ages then we found this place and it cut into the money your parents gave you. So, it cut into your dream...I was speaking to my parents when my dad gave me the idea, then I spoke to Max. He did all the work for free, but I had to pay for the materials, Nikki came by one day and caught us, she knew a place to get all the salon equipment at a discount. I didn't ask her but I thought if you wanted you two could run this place together?"

Laila stands there in shock not quite believing he has done this for her "Harry...I.." he sighs, "You hate the wallpaper don't you?" he runs his hands down his face, she cups his face "Harry, I love it...this is the most sweetest, kindest and amazing thing anyone has ever done for me! I can't believe you did this instead of converting it into a gym." He smiles at her "I can work out at work! I just thought you deserved this after what you did, so we could get this place." she grins.

"Have you tried out the chairs yet?" she asks and he shook his head "Why don't you take a sit Mr. Taylor?" she winks at him.

As soon as he sits, she straddles him and runs her fingers through his hair, he grips her hips "Not sure I need a haircut." she looks down at him "Hmmm....we'll just have to see what other services you can use!" she winks, his lips quickly find her as they test out the sturdiness of the chair.

~*~*~*~

A few days later Laila hands in her notice and she convinces Nikki to work with her and Daniel because Nikki can only work part time.

The three of them are excited about this new opportunity.

Will it be a match made in heaven?

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 2.

@lem-20�� @aussieez​ @secretaryunpaid​ @khoicesbyk​ @irisofpurple​ @txemrn​ @beautifuluknownvoid​ @wombatsxkookaburras​

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Folklore Friday

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a pair of children awoke in the middle of the forest, entirely alone.

The elder brother suspected that he knew what had happened. With the drought, crops had been failing and food was scarce. What their farm had managed to produce was taken to the lord mayor's storehouses. People were growing desperate.

Hans had overheard his parents in the night, whispering that they would run out of food in less than two weeks.

"The children will starve, husband," their gentle stepmother had cried, "I cannot watch them die. I cannot bear it!"

"If they could but find work in the city, they need not starve. Hans is clever and quick with his hands. Let us find him an apprenticeship. The butcher seeks an assistant, I hear."

"But the butcher is a harsh man, husband! No, he would let Hans starve! The children would survive longer in the old Kingswood than in the butcher's house."

"You are right, wife. The forest may be their only hope."

"Wait, what?"

Hans suspected that, as usual, his father had tricked his stepmother into another bad idea. He gritted his teeth angrily and looked around. They hadn't even left a knife to defend themselves with.

"Hans, where are Mama and Papa?" his little sister asked. She watched him with eyes that seemed too large for her thin face.

"They left us," Hans answered bitterly. "Like Papa talked about."

Greta started to cry. She cried often, these days. "I don't want to be lost! I want to go home!"

Hans did his best to put on a brave face, but he was only ten, and not feeling particularly brave. "It's alright. We'll find our way back, you'll see."

[[MORE]]

But the Kingswood was treacherous, and the children were soon even more lost than before. Deeper and deeper into the forest they wandered, to places where the trees loomed black and cold, and the air grew close and stifling. Greta clung to her brother's back and peered through the trees. There was a flash of color, just between the trunks, as red as candy.

"Look, Hans!" Greta whispered as loudly as her parched throat would allow, "There's something there!"

That "something" turned out to be a rose petal, curiously out of place on the forest floor. Hans soon spied another, drifting down to join the first.

High above them, where the trees thinned out, a gentle breeze wafted more flower petals over a moss-covered wall they'd mistaken for more forest. The tip of a Tower could barely be seen from the ground.

"I thought nobody lived in the Kingswood," Hans said. "Should we see if anyone is in there?"

He felt, rather than saw, Greta nod against his neck. "Okay then. Hang on tight, we'll find a door."

The sun was beginning to set by the time they found a small side gate in the wall. It was rusted enough that Hans was able to break the lock with a large stone. The courtyard the siblings found themselves in was completely overwhelmed with roses. They sprawled across every possible surface in carefully curated chaos.

"Pretty!" little Greta breathed. Hans set his sister down and let her run up to touch one of the flowers.

The instant her fingers touched the petals, a roar shook the garden.

"WHO DARES TAMPER WITH MY ROSES?" a man's voice thundered.

Hans whisked his little sister behind his back and raised his fists in a pitiful attempt at defense. From out of a maze of rose hedges stormed a terrible beast. He snarled with the mouth of a lion, and tossed the horns of a ram each time he moved his head. The tail of a great cat lashed back and forth in a threatening gesture as he approached. And then, just as suddenly, his hostility melted away.

"You seem a little young to be thieves," the beast mused. He wiped soil-covered hands on a pair of woolen breeches and folded his arms. "And just where are your parents, my young trespassers?"

"They lost us!" Greta announced indignantly from behind her brother, "On purpose, even!"

The beast stared blankly at them for several seconds. "Oh," he said plainly. "I guess you had better come inside. I'll...make tea, I suppose?"

Hans was about to insist that they needed to leave, but the mention of tea set his stomach growling loudly. The beast nodded.

"Right. Tea and some sandwiches, probably. Come on then, night's falling soon. I bred these roses to defend themselves once the sun goes down." The beast gestured to a set of stairs half hidden by flowers. "Come along then. You don't want to be caught out here in the dark."

Hans clutched Greta's hand, and reluctantly they followed the beast into the castle.

[thembohux]

Starlight Chapter 1

I’m trying out posting longer fics on here, rather than just oneshots, so here is the first chapter of a Star Wars Regency AU! I’ve also posted it here on my Ao3 profile (crylorenaissance). This also features the OC of the lovely @cleversturmhond who allowed me to use Ro in this fic

Kylo Ren/OFC, Armitage Hux/OFC

18+ only please!

When a potential scandal befalls Lord Kylo Ren and Lady Lita Cetrye, quick arrangements are made for marriage and for both families to save face before word gets out. Things don’t go as planned for Lord Kylo and Lady Lita when a certain gentleman within their social circle gets involved.

Warnings for Chapter 1: PIV sex, mentions of oral sex (f receiving), arranged marriages, mentions of age gaps (all are adults), mentions of loss of virginity, possible historical inaccuracies, let me know if I’ve missed anything

They knew it was wrong. Virtuous young women weren’t supposed to be alone with men who weren’t family or their husbands, nor were they supposed to frequently be sneaking around with unwed gentlemen.

Yet that is exactly where Lita found herself. In the bedchambers— no, bed— of Lord Kylo Ren. They’d been doing this for months, sneaking around to see one another in secret. Luckily, Lord Dameron and his wife, who were close friends of Kylo and Lita, always helped protect both of their images. Of course, it had happened when Poe had accidentally caught them together, but that time had been innocent, just a few stolen kisses behind a hedge in Kylo’s mother’s garden.

This would ruin Lita’s reputation if someone found out and they’d be forced to marry anyway. Which wouldn’t have been bad. Lita and Kylo adored one another. Their parents were close, so they’d grown up together. Now Lita visited on her own, because at twenty years old and still unwed, she’d offered her services and time to Leia to help prepare Rey for her upcoming social seasons. Although it was mostly just an excuse to see Kylo. Rey was horribly stubborn and didn’t like the lessons Lita helped give her.

Kylo had managed to pull Lita away from the lessons nearly an hour ago. Their parents knew it was wrong, but they’d often allow them to socialize without a chaperone if no other guests were around. Everyone assumed Lita and Kylo would marry soon anyway. Lita was never able to secure a suitor, and while many had tried to flirt with her or win her hand, Kylo always scared them away. He was an imposing man, who loomed over many of the men in their social circle. When any arrogant young gentleman attempted to woo Lady Lita, Kylo always swooped in at her first sign of discomfort. There had always been rumors and gossip about them and the friendship they had. Hushed conversations the other ladies had about Kylo and Lita frequenting one another’s beds, the gentlemen in their social circle casually asking Kylo such intimate questions about Lady Lita while they discussed their wives and fiancées.

And of course, Kylo wasn’t exactly proper. His hair was too long, his presence often commanding the attention of everyone around him. Lady Lita was exactly what most of their peers wanted in a wife, except for the small eccentricities she allowed herself. She frequently had lavender ribbons woven within her hair and, when they were in season, little sprigs of the flowers as well.

The thoughts of betrothals and what was proper were completely tossed away now. All Kylo and Lita could focus on was one another. It hadn’t started as them hiding away in his bedchamber. It had started in the library, just for Lita to get away from Kylo’s sister for a little bit. But then he’d said such alluring words, pressing kisses below her ear and down her neck, his hands finding her waist before the two of them ran off to his chambers, evading house staff, Kylo’s father and his Uncle Luke.

A soft moan slipped past Lita’s lips, something Kylo hurriedly silenced by pressing his mouth to hers.

“Shh, darling, you’ll get us caught.” He punctuated his words with a deep thrust that had Lita arching up towards him, hands grasping Kylo’s shoulders. He knew they were running out of time before Lita was requested back to the drawing room, but neither of them cared. Not when the drag of Kylo’s cock drew the softest moans and gasps from Lita, making her cunt clench around him and her eyes roll back. Or how Kylo’s hands firmly held her waist as he pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down her neck and along the tops of her breasts. He would’ve bitten her if he could get away with it. Kylo already knew she liked it after one of their previous moments together.

Lita pressed her head back into the pillows, breathing heavily as Kylo continued to thrust into her, the head of his cock striking her front wall, nearly making her cry out.

“Kylo!”

“Just a little longer, my love.” His thrusts were growing sloppy, chasing his orgasm and helping Lita to reach hers, his hand wandering down between them, rubbing tight circles around her clit. Kylo hissed as Lita’s nails dug into his skin, dragging down his back as her eyes fluttered shut, lips parting. Lita let one last soft moan of his name past her lips as she came, not wanting anyone to hear her. Kylo followed shortly after, holding his hips flush to hers as he came. Lita shuddered as he pulled out and Kylo rolled over to lay on his back.

“Darling, do you think marriage is in our future?” Lita asked softly, laying her head on Kylo’s chest. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Of course I do.”

Lita sighed. She wanted him to propose! They’d been lovers for months now and she was tired of sneaking around to be with him. She wanted to tell the ladies she was friends with all about her beloved husband, Lord Kylo Ren.

“When?”

“Soon. I’ll discuss it with your parents tonight. Since our families are so close, it should go well.”

“Promise me, Kylo. My parents are growing impatient and will have to start seeking someone else if you don’t officially choose me.”

“I promise—” he paused, grabbing Lita’s hand and pressing a kiss to each of her fingers before kissing the back. Lita laid her hand against his cheek and Kylo turned to kiss her palm before speaking once more— “that you and I shall marry by the new year.”

“Rosh Hashanah or the end of December?”

“Whichever you prefer, starlight,” he chuckled.

Lita leaned down to kiss him and Kylo laid his hand over the one she had resting against his cheek. She was thrilled! Married to her best friend, the man she loved, before the year was up!

Meanwhile, Rey was walking through the hall just outside the door. She needed to change after spilling on herself once again, but she paused upon hearing something in her brother’s room. Lita hadn’t been at luncheon, still spending her time with Kylo. Rey thought for a moment before the realization struck her. Kylo and Lita were in his chambers. Alone. Perhaps they just needed to privately discuss something! Or Kylo was showing Lita some of the sketches he’d been working on of the flowers in their garden. She knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Surely there’d be no harm if she looked inside…

Lita and Kylo didn’t notice the door open just a crack, too preoccupied kissing one another. Rey quickly shut the door as quietly as possible before running back down to where her mother was waiting. Han had joined Leia in the drawing room shortly before Rey burst through the door.

“Ben and Lady Lita are alone together!” She was out of breath from running and nearly tripping over her skirt on her way down the stairs.

“Rey, they’re allowed to be unchaperoned in the library.”

Would it be decent to say what she saw? That she saw Lady Lita in just a corset, kissing Kylo in a way not even married couples did. Rey had recently gone to a wedding with her family and the kissing there hadn’t been anything like what she’d just seen.

“They were in his bedchamber!”

Leia rose from her seat and motioned to Han to follow her as she headed to the library. This could’ve been a scheme of Rey’s. One to get rid of Lita since she hated the lessons so much. But ruining Lady Lita’s reputation would’ve been a stretch, even for Rey.

“We don’t know that they’re doing anything wrong. They could just be looking at some of Ben’s art. He’s always sketching those flowers for her.” Leia knew Lita was incredibly well behaved and that her son was thinking of proposing. The library was empty.

“We should have checked on them,” Han said as they started making their way to Kylo’s room. “I know we agreed with Lita’s parents that they could go unchaperoned sometimes but they’re still…” He trailed off as they reached the door. Han raised a hand to knock, knuckles connecting with the wood. No response. Han raised an eyebrow at Leia before opening the door.

Kylo was on top of Lita again, his lips on hers. He pulled away when the door opened, quickly lowering himself down to cover Lita with his own body, sparing her a shred of decency.

“Ben, what have you and Lady Lita been doing?”

Everyone knew the answer to Han’s question. Kylo wasn’t embarrassed, actually finding the situation quite humorous. Lita, on the other hand, had buried her face against Kylo’s chest to hide her flushed cheeks. 

“The two of you should dress for dinner. Lita, your parents should be arriving soon. We can all discuss this situation.”

The door closed and Kylo raised himself up to get a good look at Lita. She looked panicked.

“The worst they’ll do is make us get engaged. Which is exactly what we want.”

“Kylo, what if they don’t? They might think you’re a bad influence or that you forced me to do this.”

Kylo’s thumb stroked along Lita’s cheek before he gave her one final kiss.

“I won’t let that happen, my love.”

Lita quickly dressed and went to the guest chambers to begin getting ready. Her maid was already waiting for her.

“Did you discuss an engagement with him?” she asked eagerly. Lita had told Marie all about her unofficial courtship with Kylo. Marie herself was a few years older than Lita and had already wed the year before to one of the footmen who worked for the Cetrye family. She’d seen more of Kylo these past six months than of actual married couples. Not to mention all the times she’d come to bring something to Lita and found her with Kylo in a variety of compromising positions.

“We did. He’s going to speak to my father tonight to set up an appointment and make a formal request for my hand.”

“That’s very exciting, my lady,” Marie said, beginning to brush Lita’s hair to style it once again. “When will you wed?”

“I was thinking in August. He said before the new year but didn’t clarify which he meant. So we will wed before Rosh Hashanah.”

Once they finished getting ready, Lita followed closely behind Kylo down to the drawing room. Both of their parents were already waiting for them. Lita’s parents looked disappointed and her father raised an eyebrow at Kylo as he sat in one of the armchairs.

“Lord Cetrye, I would like to discuss an urgent matter with you,” Kylo said once he was comfortable in the chair. Lita’s eyes lit up as she looked between Kylo and her father, hoping her father would say something in the affirmative.

“If it is regarding my daughter’s hand in marriage, I won’t hear it.”

Her face fell into panic.

“You’ve already sullied her reputation enough! With the constant flirting and dancing, scaring away all of her suitors and now this. Marrying you would only make it worse!”

If word of Kylo and Lita sleeping together got out, it would ruin her. Kylo would be fine, really. A man of his social standing was expected to have experience in such things. But that experience was supposed to come from the patronage of brothels, not from a young woman in his social circle. Yet, they’d only been with one another. And in such pleasurable ways, too. Pleasurable and some downright filthy. Just last month, they’d laid together in a meadow, Kylo’s head between Lita’s thighs. He’d made her come nearly three times with just his fingers and tongue, leaving little bruises and bite marks behind on her thighs.

In the early months of their secret relationship, he’d sometimes let Lita be on top, hands grasping her hips and pulling her down onto his thick cock as the softest moans and whines slipped past her lips. And, oh god, how she’d moaned and whined for him their first time together. Soft whispers and gasps about how good Kylo made her feel, how big his cock was, while he slowly rocked his hips against Lita’s.

“My lord, I’ve never loved someone the way I love your daughter! She’d be well taken care of with me and never want for anything!”

“No and that’s final!”

Lita saw Kylo’s jaw tighten, fists clenched at his sides. She wanted to reach out to him, hold him. They could run away together! Elope if they’d like! Kylo met her gaze, saw the tears glittering along her lashes. 

“I… I don’t feel well, may I be excused?” Lita suddenly said. Her voice shook slightly and she didn’t look up at anyone.

“Go lay down, I’ll be up in a moment,” her mother replied. She knew Lita was upset and that she’d said she didn’t feel well just as a guise to leave. 

There was a ball next week, one to celebrate the end of winter and the official start of spring. She’d wanted to appear with Kylo as his fiancée. Tell Lady Aurora Dameron and Lady Ellaria Pryde all about the proposal and show them her engagement ring. She’d been at Ellaria’s wedding last September, shortly before her twentieth birthday, and Aurora’s— Ro, as she preferred to be called in casual settings— wedding just a few months ago. They’d both been lovely affairs.

Ellaria’s had been at the Pryde estate rather than a church. A show of wealth that her father-in-law had insisted on. And the fact that Ellaria and her husband Varric were not of the same religion. Ellaria, who came from the Hux family, was Catholic. Varric, the sole heir and son of Lord Enric Pryde, was Anglican, like most English families.

Lita had danced with Ellaria’s older brother, Armitage, at the reception after the wedding. He wasn’t exactly sociable. He knew all of the proper ways to converse and was an adequate dancer, but he was incredibly stiff and hard to talk to. Perhaps it had been due to his father’s watchful eye while Armitage danced with Lady Lita. Or Kylo’s glare from the corner of the room.

Lita had told Kylo after that she’d also like to get married in her own home. The home she’d share with her husband one day. Not the first of many hints she’d dropped to Kylo regarding the matter. That had been their first night together. Kylo’s estate in Alderaan had been much closer than Lita’s and his family had offered to host her that night rather than send her all the way back to her own home. They’d kissed a few times before but he’d invited Lita back to his chambers once everyone else had gone to bed. 

Lita had told Kylo about her wishes while her head rested against his bare chest and he interlaced their fingers. He’d laughed softly, promising her anything she wanted when they wed. If she wished to be married at their synagogue, he’d make that happen. If she wanted to be married at the estate, he’d let her. He just wanted his beloved starlight to be happy and give her the life she desired. A life with him.

But now that plan was slipping from their grasp. They could run and leave everything behind if they wished. Be with one another. But without the fortune or support of their families, they’d struggle. And their reputations would be completely ruined. Rumors would float around about pregnancy and other such things. They couldn’t have that. They wanted to be around their friends when they married and eventually had children.

But that was now an unattainable fantasy.

***

“Excited, sir?” Dopheld asked. Armitage nearly rolled his eyes. Dopheld, his valet, was the closest thing he had to a friend but the young man was so eager about such frivolities. His enthusiasm was often a bother, as ridiculous as that may have seemed to anyone else. Armitage knew one of his father’s motives for hosting this ball. He was insistent Armitage find a wife to prove that it had been worth it for Brendol to take his bastard son in. Someone to make Brendol look more charitable and like a far better man than he was or ever had been. Such a kind man for taking in the children of his mistresses. That was what Lord Brendol Hux wanted the world to see, but the reality was far worse. His children were abused, beaten, degraded at the hands of him, his wife and their friends. All a secret, of course.

Except of course the harsh gossip they spread about Ellaria and Armitage. Maratelle and her friends always had their little comments about how hard it would be to marry off Ellaria, that she was too tall and looked too much like her father and brother but with “her mother’s awful, unruly hair!” Armitage was called weak. Just a slip of a boy. And “good for nothing, just like that kitchen woman who birthed him.”

Armitage shook away the thoughts. He’d caught wind of which lady he was set to court. Lady Lita Cetrye, who had been deemed off the market until just this last week. Her parents were looking to find her a husband. He’d met Lady Lita many times, as she was friends with his sister, but never took any sort of interest in her. She was close with Kylo Ren, a man with the temper of a child in Armitage’s opinion. Kylo had previously scared off all the other men who spoke with Lady Lita. What would make Armitage different?

He didn’t have a positive or negative opinion on Lita herself. She was simply Ellaria’s friend and peer, six years younger than Armitage and a nice dance partner. She was pretty, too, able to capture the attention of many gentlemen within their social group. Somewhat vain, perhaps, but that was the worst thing Armitage could truly say about her. He simply didn’t know her well enough. He’d have to ask Ellaria more about her. The thoughts were pushed aside as he took a deep breath and headed downstairs.

Lita kept toying with her necklace while standing off at the edge of the room with Ellaria. Well, Ellaria was sitting while Lita stood. Lady Pryde was taller than Kylo, something not many people could say they’d accomplished doing.

“My parents said I’m not to approach him first. I’d seem fast if I did such a thing,” Lita told Ellaria. 

“But you are fast. That’s what has landed you in this situation, is it not?” Ellaria knew of Lita’s situation with Kylo. She’d known for months and had also been encouraging Kylo to propose.

“Not everyone needs to know that. Especially not your brother. My parents are set on Armitage being the only man to dance with me tonight.”

“As is our father. And Armitage is coming this way, so I should take my leave. I wish you the best of luck.” And with that, Ellaria was gone.

Lita looked around, waiting to see the man she’d have to dance with the rest of the night. Where was Kylo when she needed him? He was supposed to be here! Most importantly, he should’ve been here with her.

“Lady Lita, may I have this dance?”

As much as he hated to admit it, Armitage nearly stopped breathing when he saw her. She always wore lavender ribbons in her hair and tonight was no different. Since flowers had started to bloom and the Cetrye family was renowned for their garden, little sprigs of lavender had been woven into her hair as well. Of course, many people considered this odd but others found it charming.

“It would be a pleasure, Lord Hux.”

Armitage carefully took her hand in his own, brushing his lips against her knuckles as their eyes briefly met. Lita looked away first, suddenly shy. He was handsome. And her close friend’s older brother, which was a little odd, of course. Never mind all that! The next song was beginning already and Armitage was adjusting his hold on Lita accordingly.

“It’s lovely to see you without that man looming over your shoulder at every moment. Some were starting to think you were engaged but never announced it.”

His words stung but Lita couldn’t show it.

“Kylo and I are just friends, Lord Hux. Nothing more.” Lita paused for a moment to collect herself. “Your dancing has improved since I last had you as a partner.”

He was still stiff, though.

“Six months is an adequate amount of time to practice one’s skills.”

“Indeed it is.”

Six months was a long time. The perfect amount of time to court someone and announce an engagement. Which Kylo should have done before they were caught. But that couldn’t be changed.

Once their dance was finished, Armitage offered Lita his arm and escorted her to where others were gathering to converse. He managed to grab two glasses of champagne from a passing footman, handing one to Lita, who gladly accepted it.

“I’m sure you’ve heard what our families plan to do,” Armitage said, suddenly lowering his voice. “Marry you off to me, keep appearances up tonight and then in a month, they’ll formally announce it in the papers.” He wore a self satisfied smirk at Lita’s feigned shock. She knew the plan. “It really is too bad about you and Kylo Ren. We all thought you two would wed ages ago.”

A small smile found its way to Lita’s lips.

“Perhaps I just had to save myself for someone like you, Lord Hux. I’m quite surprised nobody has taken the opportunity from me.”

Armitage had to admit that Lita was indeed charming. She’d make the perfect wife and be able to keep up with him intellectually. Surely, she would keep him entertained in more ways than one.

The following day, Lita awoke to her mother excitedly knocking on her door.

“Lord Hux has sent you flowers! Aren’t they lovely?”

They were! White roses with some purple flowers intermingled with them. Lilac blooms and even some lavender.

White roses. Innocence. If only he knew!

There was a note attached. Thanking Lita for the lovely time last night and wishing to see her again this week.

Yes, Lord Hux did have a wonderful time saying such rude things about Kylo and trying to assert his dominance the entire night.

“You will see him again, won’t you?”

“Of course! He is one of the most eligible suitors I’ve met!”

It pained Lita to say those words, to write a letter back to Lord Hux and send it off in the post to him. She wished to lock herself away in her chambers. Even more, she wished Kylo was here with her.

[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