#with reed being gone

[amagicdoctor]

Yo... Do you think Sinister COINCIDENTALLY took Kurt out from where he was locked in for 5 years on the very day Storm developed infinity IQ or did he do that at every meeting until someone EVENTUALLY spoke up? Cuz mf literally pulled Kurt out of his ass (...just like how Ororo did it with her arguments). If it's the first then oh my he should play the lottery and if it's the latter, this is the most sadistic move I've ever seen. "Well, no one noticed you not being you today. Back to the cage!"

Good points all around! This entire arc is pretty messed up so I would go with Sinister having og!Kurt on hold, waiting for someone to say SOMETHING and then he could make his grand entrance like

[morverenmaybewrites]

I dont wanna say this but girl we should stop being obsessed with dead people. It's unhealty

What do you mean, anon? Do you mean Yoriichi Tsugikuni?

Or Kyoujurou Rengoku?

Because let me tell you, anon, I am not on this site because I have healthy coping mechanisms. Like. At all.

[luveline]

Idk if you've ever written it, but like, hotch having to save bau!r after she's been kidnapped and tourtered and shit and when hotch finds them, babes is BLEEDING and shit and like barely coherent but spewing the absolute most random bullshit to hotch bc their panicking and whatnot?

thank you for requesting 💌 fem, 1.2k

Hotch has felt sick for three days. 

He stands with his ear pressed to his shoulder, as though holding the ear piece further in will bring news of you quicker. His hands are up and ready, torch and firearm held aloft, wrists crossed. 

Morgan has to go in first. Morgan, because if you’re dead, Hotch will take actions that will disbar him from being Unit Chief. He can’t keep his head, not if you’re gone. His anger will swallow him whole, and he will do things that can’t be forgiven. 

His stomach churns, waiting, waiting, waiting. The sky is dark as pitch and the house they surround doesn’t stir for a time. 

Then, low and long, carrying heavy through the air like a sledgehammer to his chest, is the reed of your screaming. It’s a strangled sound, sobbing to begin with, begging as it ends. Hotch hears your, “No, no, please! Please! Please.” Your third please fractures into a writhing scream as the pain begins again. 

Hotch’s arms twitch, threatening to fall to his sides. You’re alive, but… 

“Okay, we’re going in,” Morgan says through the ear piece, clearly having heard the same agony as Hotch. “Right now. Team two with Hotch. Everyone ready?” 

You must have screamed so loudly for it to get through walls. That’s all Hotch can think as he follows behind the second team, the sounds of cracking wood and tight footsteps ahead.

He’s not in the room, but he’s down the hall, he can hear the fuss as he hurries forward. “Drop the weapon!” Morgan shouts, evidence of his own anger in the sheer booming volume of his voice. “Drop the weapon now! Drop it!” 

A sharper crack as a bullet hits something and a thud. Hotch forces himself into the room just in time to see a large, short-haired figure fall to the floor. 

You’re covered in red and purple and brown, blood in long lines and gushing from deep wounds, a mess of it. He doesn’t even know where to start, your gutted, exhausted sobbing like a knife in his stomach, your limp hands hanging either side of the strange chair you’ve been strapped to. “Morgan,” you say, audibly relieved and yet your pain obvious and electric as you gasp for air, “Morgan, you have to get me out.” 

“I’ve got you,” Hotch says, holstering his gun in one breath and by your side the next.

A SWAT agent begins to saw through your binds with a serrated knife. Hotch’s hands stutter on the metal ends of the chair, wanting to touch you but terrified he’ll put a hand in a wound he hasn’t noticed. 

“Hotch,” you say, and your relief is worse now. Like you aren’t covered in your own blood, like his being there has fixed everything. 

“Y/N,” he says back, holding your elbow carefully, “it’s okay, it’s all right.” 

“You have to get the straps off of me. I need to go home-”

“I know, that’s what we’re doing. We’ll get them off of you–”

“–I have to go home, Hotch. You have to take me home.” 

He knows that medical are close behind them, they’re coming in just as soon as the building has been cleared, and there’s more than enough agents to have it done in the next thirty seconds. He has to assess you in that time. He can take care of you. 

The SWAT agent cuts your last bindings and you immediately attempt to get up, gasping in pain when four hands push you down at the same time. “Sit down,” Hotch says, “Y/N, just stay there, just for a second.”

“No, no, let me down, I need to go home, I haven’t looked after anything and– and the laundry’s piled up, and–”

“Honey,” he says firmly, “I’m gonna take you home. I am.” He meets your eyes, panic and tears and concerning bloodshot clouding your vision. “I’m gonna take you home, but please stay still. Just until the EMS is here. Just so they can look at you.” 

“I want to go home now,” you say, nearly shrieking, grasping at his arm. It’s so loud in the room with so many people speaking that he’s almost glad for it. 

Your fingers slide down his sleeve and leave streaks of gore in their wake. Your hands are caked in your own blood. Done with his bargaining, you push up into his arms and get onto one of your feet, an incredible amount of force behind you as you get your way. Your knees buckle immediately —Hotch scoops you up and dumps you back in your chair, even as you cry and cry into his chest. 

“No, I need to go home, I have so much to do, I can’t stay here,” you whine, pain eating at your voice, your fingers weakening where they’re pressed to his stomach. 

“I promise I’m going to take you home,” he says, ducking to speak directly into your ear. “Do you trust me? I promise I’m going to take you back home. Please, please, sweetheart, trust me.” 

You hiccup, tears thick running down your cheeks, and orange where they collect at your chin, chest heaving as you border incoherency. “I do trust you. I– I trust you, I just–”

He takes a showful breath. “Deep breath. I’ll bring you home soon.” 

“All my plants are dead,” you mumble, blood smudging over your eyelids as you rub them harshly. 

Hotch holds your wrists. 

— <3 

He keeps his promise (though you don’t remember him making it, not beyond what Morgan recounts). Hotch takes you home when you’re well enough to be there, and he, done with pretences, stays for a while as you recover. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, more tired than you’ve ever been in your life, peering at him through sticky lashes where you lay in bed. 

He’s odd to see without shoes. “Nothing,” he says, misting the leaves of your window plant with a frown. “Just hoping I can bring this one back to life.” 

You’re not sure why he’s so worried about the plants. It can’t be judgement; he knows exactly why they died. 

Well. Whatever professionalism was between you is well and truly gone. You wonder what it is you said to him that made him finally snap, but it was nice to wake up with his hand in yours, and it’s nicer still to see him each morning. When you clear your throat and look at him longingly, you know without asking that he’s going to find his way back to your side, and kiss your cheek, hands smelling of fresh soil. He does it all with ease. 

“You brought me back to life,” you joke weakly. 

“I had much more help than the plants.” He’s been panicky around you sometimes since he found you again, but not scared. He tilts your face gently one way and then another. “You look pretty, but very tired. Why don’t you sleep some more, hm?” 

“Can I… I mean, do you think you could…” 

He takes your arm as he settles in to comfort beside you. His fingers begin to trace a gentle line down your arm, meandering around cuts and bruises. 

You close your eyes, hesitant of the darkness. “Are you sure I’m okay?” you ask quietly. 

“You’re home, honey. Safe and sound.” 

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr. Gaiman!

Do you think Crowley ever met Lou Reed, and if so, how you imagine that would have gone down?

Half of me imagines Crowley was too much of a fan to ever actually meet him, and the other half of me thinks Lou would have straight up told Crowley he looked like a complete wanker and ended the conversation then and there lmao

My favourite Lou Reed story is one Penn Jillette told me about going to see a movie with Lou one afternoon, and being recognized afterwards by a bunch of young people who came over to tell Penn what huge fans they were of his. And then, as they were leaving, one of them turned to Lou and said "And we're all big fans of yours as well, Teller."

None of us are cool all of the time.

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

Sooo something has been brought to my attention that immediately needs to be addressed.

The user @asmodeus-682 (can @ them freely since they've already blocked me and I cannot reach out to them) is throwing around accusations that I'm a pro-shipper of Solar x Moon, a ship that's grown in popularity amongst some members in the TSAMS community. And is bashing anyone and everyone associated with it.

Gonna come out and call bullshit.

Yes, I did like some art of it from accounts I follow because I thought what was happening in said art was cute. But...that doesn't mean I ship it???

It's also NOT INCEST?????

Since when does liking something equate to supporting something else???

People can like Harry Potter and hate JK Rowling at the same time, so idk what logic is being used here.

Do I think SolarMoon is cute? Yes.

Do I ship it? No, it's personally not my cup of tea. Kidscove still has my heart and soul.

I understand some are hesitant to approach it or are heavily against it because Solar was given the title of "cousin" by Earth and has been accepted into the family. I, as a moderator in the official TSBS Discord server, have been cautious to not let any discussions of SolarMoon transpire BECAUSE of this fact.

But y'all...

This is so dumb.

So unbelievably fucking dumb.

I'm mostly pissed because I am having to delay progress on a thumbnail to have to type this out and yet I still feel the need to.

At the end of the day people like what they like. The ship isn't gonna affect the show in any way because it's never going to happen.

And don't drag the VAs into even more bullshit drama, they've had enough. My friends don't need more in their lives than what they've already gone through the past year.

Supporting an artist, does not mean you are a supporter of Incestuous ships. It means you like art.

And being personal friends with Reed, the VA for Moon, I can tell you with utmost certainty he does not fucking care.

If anyone has questions feel free to message me. Let's be adults about this.

edit: for the love of god DO NOT GO HARASSING PEOPLE. I DO NOT CONDONE ANYONE TO GO AFTER THIS PERSON OR ANYONE IN THE COMMENTS. THAT IS NOT COOL.

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 21 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake works to secure his future with Jessica while also being supportive of her. She is dreading Brian's return to work, but she recognizes that she finally has the friends she deserves.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, language, 18+

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica had never been hungover during the week before, but all the celebratory champagne and rough sex had definitely gone to her head a little bit. She groaned when she felt Jake's hand on her shoulder. "Baby, you have to get up," he said, voice hoarse next to her ear. "We have to go to work."

"Oh, god," she groaned, rolling over away from him. "No."

"You have to," he repeated. "It's your first day with tenure, Reedy. You have to go."

A smile spread across her lips in spite of her headache, and she whispered, "Tenure. I have tenure."

"You sure do," Jake drawled softly, and she finally opened her eyes to see him grinning at her. "If you get up now, I'll make you breakfast."

Her stomach growled so loudly they both laughed, and then she pouted playfully. "But I don't have a waffle iron."

He kissed her forehead. "No. But I do. And you told me you weren't going to renew your lease."

"I'm not," she whispered as her heart swelled with happiness. 

"Well, soon enough you'll have daily access to waffles," he whispered, kissing her just below her ear. "I guess I better start cleaning out my closet to make room for your lingerie collection."

Now she wanted to move in with him as soon as possible. She could already picture herself organizing all of her pretty pieces in his nice closet while modeling a few of them for him. She still had some things he'd never seen her in, and it was going to be so much fun to tease him. 

"Get up," he said, patting her butt as he climbed out of bed. "I'll make some eggs."

Jessica went through her morning routine only after taking some Advil, and she had to drink two mugs of coffee before she really felt human. She also left her apartment a good fifteen minutes after than she usually did. "You'll be late," she fretted, running toward her car which was parked next to Jake's truck. "You'll get in trouble."

"Nah," he replied, "Bradshaw will cover for me." He kissed Jessica as she tried to push him toward his truck, stumbling in her high heels.

"Go to work. Goodbye. I love you," she said quickly. "I'll see you tonight!" 

"See you tonight, tenured Dr. Reed," he called out as she climbed into her car and started the engine. 

Jessica barely had time to get to her office before she had to grab her notebooks and head back downstairs to give her first lecture of the day. But it felt so damn good to stand there in front of her students. Dr. Rosenthal wouldn't be stopping in, because he didn't need to. Because she had tenure. And now that her headache was virtually gone and the breakfast that Jake made was sitting nicely in her belly, she kind of felt like screaming about it from the rooftops. 

But she settled for screaming about it at lunchtime when she grabbed the little container of food Jake made and took it over to the math building. After one knock on her friend's office door, it swung open revealing a bright smile. Jessica screeched quietly and hugged her. 

"I have tenure," she whispered.

"Well, obviously," Advanced Calculus replied. "There was never any doubt in my mind."

Jessica set her lunch down on the desk while her friend closed the door. "I can't thank you enough for everything you did for me. Helping me set everything up with Rosenthal and giving up so much of your free time and everything," she gushed. "Just... thank you. And I hope you had a nice time at the library with Bradley."

She snorted in response as she opened her tie dye lunchbox. "Bradley had a great time at the library, as per usual. And once again, I don't think you appreciate how very much I want to see Brian go down like a sinking ship. In fact, I volunteered for another special project."

"What kind of project?" Jessica asked as she watched her friend dip a carrot stick into some hummus. 

"I can't talk about it quite yet. I have another meeting with Dean Walters in an hour, but I think it's a project that you'll fully support." Then she bit into the carrot like a woman who was in complete control of her surroundings, and Jessica couldn't think of a single reason why she couldn't be the same way.

"If you think I'll appreciate your new project, then I can't wait to hear about it later," she said, taking a bite of the delicious food Jake made for her. 

"I'll tell you all about it as soon as I can."

After lunch, Jessica took some time to gather her scattered notes to teach Brian's senior studies class for the last time. She learned as much about chemistry from the students as they had from her, and after she worked a few problems out on the board with them, she asked, "If you have any other questions for me, please let me know now. This is the last time I'll be covering this class."

"What do you mean?" one of the students asked, leaning forward in his seat. 

"Dr. Conley will be back for class next week," she explained, and then she heard an outraged sigh followed by some muttering. "It'll be okay though," she said in a tone she hoped was reassuring. "You've all been doing so well, and you're so close to graduation now!"

"But Dr. Conley doesn't even show up to class."

"He doesn't help us with anything."

"Is there any way you can stay until the end of the semester?"

"What about the practice problems you give us?"

The sudden influx of comments and questions made Jessica feel better and also so much worse at the same time. She let them all get their concerns out of their system before she said, "My office hours are always available for you. And you can still email me if you want to. I can even try to make more practice problems, but honestly, all of you are much better at chemistry than I am. Maybe you can run the class yourselves if Dr. Conley isn't here?"

She hated Brian. She actually still hated him. But more so for these students now than on her own behalf. They all looked concerned and apprehensive, and she spent another ten minutes talking to them until they were calm enough to head to their next class. She wished she could finish teaching them for the rest of the semester, and she decided she would ask Dean Walters if there was any chance she could teach her own senior studies class for physics majors next school year.

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

Jake was already home and showered with dinner in the oven, eating some chips on the couch while he waited for Jessica. He was keeping a running tally of things he still needed to give her since he'd already willingly handed over his heart. His spare key was sitting next to his feet which were propped up on the coffee table. He had already cleaned out half of his closet and consolidated his stuff to make some room. And he wanted to pay for the flights to Massachusetts and Texas for her once she approved the dates. 

When his phone lit up with a text letting him know she was here, he ran down to her car in just his sweatpants and slippers with his spare key ring looped around his finger. "Did you have a good day?" he asked, taking her overnight bag from her hand as she locked her car.

"I did," she replied quietly. "I left so late, because I talked to the dean about teaching my own senior studies class next term."

"And?"

She smiled as they walked to his condo. "He said it's a good possibility now that I have tenure."

"There's nothing you can't do." Jake kissed her and pressed the key ring into her hand.

"What's this?" she asked, looking at it as she stood outside the front door. "Oh!" She slipped it into the lock and let them both inside as she blushed. "You want me to have it now? Even though I'm not moving in quite yet?"

"Please," he replied as he walked inside, his eyes catching on the print of his jet that she gave him for his birthday. "You can come and go as you want, but I hope you'll be here more often than not."

Jake watched as she took her keys out again and added his ring to them. "Thank you." She was fiddling with them a little bit when she looked up at him as she stepped out of her high heels. "Brian will be back tomorrow," she said softly. "That's what Dr. Rosenthal told me when I ran into him. And if he doesn't know I have tenure by now, he'll find out soon enough."

Jake collected her in his arms. "He can't do anything about it now, Reedy. It's a done deal. And unless you fuck up spectacularly at work, which you definitely won't, he's not entitled to say anything about it."

She nodded against him. "I know that. I do know that, but I still don't want to have to see him and hear his stupid, condescending voice complain about me."

He pressed his nose to her hair and kissed her before he whispered, "You wear your tenure like a shield. And if he can't figure out how to shut his mouth, you let me know, and I'll be there in an instant."

Jessica shivered in his arms. "That shouldn't sound as sexy as it does. You know..." she mused, "none of this would have happened if you hadn't punched Brian in the face the first time. So I guess I really have you to thank."

"How so?" Jake asked as he led her to the kitchen where the oven timer was going off. 

"You punched Brian, and then his wife saw his messed up face. And then she came to campus looking for answers and found him with the teaching assistant. And then he took a leave of absence." When Jake set down the baking dish and glanced over his shoulder, she was smiling brightly. "Jake, you literally saved my career with your fist!"

He shrugged and shook off his oven mitts. "All I did was punch someone who was trying to intimidate my girlfriend. I'll do it again if I have to. Now, would you like some parmesan cheese sprinkled on top of your dinner?" he asked as he cut into the casserole. He ended up with Jessica in his arms. 

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

Jessica heard the whispers all day on Thursday. If Dr. Rosenthal hadn't told her that Brian was coming back, she would have chalked it up to everyone at the university being addicted to their daily gossip, but she half expected to see him lurking around every corner. She kind of wanted to go right to Brian's office, knock on the door and tell him that she got tenure just to get it over with. But when she thought about seeing his face, she shook her head in disgust. 

She hadn't heard much from Jake all day, and Advanced Calculus was scarce as well. But when she went to the lounge to make a sad cup of coffee before her office hours started, the teaching assistant that Brian had been sleeping with was in there along with another one that Jessica wasn't familiar with. They must not have seen her at first as they were clearly talking about Brian.

"He looks terrible, honestly. Like he hasn't slept. I'm sure he's going to ask me if I want to mess around again, especially since his wife left."

"I don't know. I heard he's actually pretty upset that she took the kids. But I really want to know who broke his nose in the first place."

Jessica considered sneaking back out of the room, but it was too late. They had seen her, and they both snapped their mouths closed. Had Sabrina Conley really taken their kids? Was she gone for good? Jessica thought she'd probably be better off without her husband. She also wanted to ask the TA if she knew Brian was married when they were messing around before, but it was really none of her business. 

"Hi," she greeted evenly, strolling toward the coffee maker. The only sound in the small room was her high heels tapping against the floor as she walked. But neither of them said a word in response before they turned and left. Maybe they were embarrassed about being caught talking about Brian, or maybe Jessica still had a bad reputation in the science department. Either way, she was going to take her coffee upstairs and wait for Luca to stop by before spending the night cuddled up with Jake. 

When she finished stirring her drink and turned toward the door, she almost spilled her coffee all over herself. "Brian," she gasped, taking an awkward step backwards so her hip hit the edge of the counter a bit painfully. He looked so angry, she immediately felt like her heart was going to explode out of her chest as her nerves took over. 

"Call me Dr. Conley," he snapped, and she could feel her face flushing with embarrassment as she stood there silently. 

Jessica's hands shook as she tried to walk to the door, but he didn't budge from his spot blocking her exit path. "Excuse me," she said, trying her best to sound stronger than she felt. 

"I don't even want to know how badly your lesson plans have gone off course over the past few weeks," he practically growled. "You're going to need to schedule a meeting with me to go over everything. The sooner the better."

"No."

Brian looked surprised by her response. "Yes," he replied with a sarcastic laugh. "I know you think you really did something special by getting that asshole to punch me in the face, but your days here are fucking numbered. Understand?"

"No," Jessica repeated as Jake's voice in her mind kept telling her to wear her tenure like a shield. Plus, she could clearly picture the paperwork she signed with Dr. Rosenthal since she read over it a dozen times. "I don't have to answer to you about my curriculum choices any longer."

He laughed. "Okay, so now you're unreliable, slutty, and stupid?"

"I have tenure," she said firmly, gripping the coffee a little tighter while his eyes bugged out in anger. 

He shook his head. "You can't get tenure unless you get it through me," he snarled.

Jessica looked at his crooked nose and miserable expression, and if she wasn't on the verge of tears, she might have laughed. "You can ask Dean Walters for a copy of my signed paperwork. And if you have concerns about my curriculum, then you can take it up with him." She tried to duck past him through the doorway, certain her resolve was almost gone now. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Brian demanded loudly, and she jumped back. "Explain yourself right fucking now."

"Dr. Conley!" came a familiar voice from the hallway, and then Dr. Rosenthal was poking his head in the lounge door. "You shouldn't be raising your voice like that to Dr. Reed, especially since you're on probation."

"Probation?" Jessica whispered, and Brian's face soured further.

"Mind your own business, Rosenthal," he snapped, and under his breath he added, "you should have retired a decade ago."

"Yes. Probation," came another familiar voice as Advanced Calculus strolled in with a notebook in her hand like she hadn't a care in the world. She stopped right in front of Brian with her back to Jessica, acting almost like a buffer. "He's in a lot of trouble," she said in a voice that bordered on teasing, and Brian's face grew pink.

"What do you mean?" Jessica whispered, and the other woman smirked at her over her shoulder.

"He's on probation for a history of behavioral issues, and I volunteered to be his probation officer of sorts," she replied before turning back toward Brian. "Don't forget, Dean Walters asked to check in with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And I'll be dropping by your classes to make sure you actually show up to them. Oh, and I'll have to add to my report that you raised your voice to a professor with tenure while she was just trying to make a cup of coffee." She tapped her notebook. "It's not looking good, Brian."

Jessica watched Dr. Rosenthal shuffle away after he cleared his throat, and Brian spun on his heel to follow suit. "Is this for real?" Jessica asked, looking around the room to try and tell if she was in a dream.

"Yep. He's my new volunteer project. I think Dean Walters could just tell that I have a lot of experience taming fuckboys. But Brian takes the cake, let me tell you. He's been skipping out on his classes to meet up with different women."

Jessica adjusted her glasses and looked at the floor as she whispered, "I never missed my classes when he and I were...."

"Of course not," she said blandly. "That's why you were given tenure instead of being put on probation. You actually do your job. He doesn't. Now, I was thinking about Chippy's tomorrow night? Kind of a celebration?"

Jessica just blinked at her. "A celebration for what?"

"You! A tenure party! Fratraiser part deux as Bradley has been calling it. You know what, I'll take care of the whole thing. Don't even stress about it."

Jessica had been planning on spending the weekend cleaning out her apartment before she started to move a few things to Jake's place. But going out for a bit could be fun. She had more friends in San Diego now than she ever dreamed she would. "What were you thinking? Like a double date?"

"Something like that," she replied with a twinkle in her eye. "How about tomorrow night at eight?"

"Let me check with Jake," she said right away.

"Oh, Jake already knows."

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

"We'll just stay for a little bit and then head home again," Jessica whispered as she and Jake made their way slowly from his truck to Chippy's. He was fucking obsessed with the way she just called his condo home. He was obsessed with everything about her as he pressed her up against the side of Chippy's out on the sidewalk. She'd let him dress her for the night by turning it into a game, and he had chosen a black lace bodysuit paired with a mini skirt and denim jacket.

"I made a mistake," he whispered, voice rough with need as he let his hand slip underneath the skirt. Then he moaned, "A huge mistake."

She laughed as he bumped her glasses with his nose while he kissed her ear. "Did you?"

Jake was uncomfortably hard in his jeans. "Baby, I really want to fuck you. And your outfit is not helping," he added as he squeezed her bare thigh.

"That's your fault," she whispered with a grin while he whined. "Seriously, we'll just stay for a drink or two. It'll be like a double date. And then we can do whatever you want, okay?"

Jake took her hand in his, kissed her fingers and said, "On the way home, you're ordering those toys from that dirty website you found. I think we need all of them."

He could tell she was blushing in the darkness by the warmth of her cheeks against his lips. "Okay," she agreed softly, and Jake had to adjust himself in his jeans before they could walk inside. 

"Holy shit," he gasped when a crowd of people cheered Congratulations! to his girlfriend. Bradshaw's wife didn't mention there would be this many people in attendance. He saw Bradshaw with his backwards hat and hideous tie dye shirt with his arms wrapped around his wife, but all of the other aviators were there, too. Jake spotted a much older man in a sweater vest sipping a beer, and he assumed that must have been Rosenthal. And of course someone had invited Dev.

"You okay?" Jake asked Jessica as she just stood next to him with happy tears in her eyes. She nodded and sniffed as she read the banner that was hanging above Chippy behind the bar. 

CONGRATS, REEDY!

"Yeah, I'm okay," she whispered, burying herself against Jake as he wrapped his arm around her. "I'm just surprised so many people cared enough to be here."

"Don't cry, Jess!" Bradley shouted over the music and conversation as his wife headed over. "It's a happy occasion! It's not like you're in a relationship with Jake or something horrible. Oh... wait...."

Jake shot him a nasty look while he laughed hysterically, and he watched Jessica hug everyone in attendance, thanking all of them individually for coming to her party. Jake briefly wrapped his arms around her and kissed her as he asked, "You want a Sam Adams, Baby?"

"Yes," she replied, but then she added, "but I want to thank Chippy, too." And with that, Jessica walked right behind the bar and gave the grouchy bar owner a hug, and Jake saw a rare smile break out on his face. "Thank you for always welcoming me here," she told him softly while Jake leaned on the bar. "I felt safe here when I didn't really feel safe anywhere else."

Chippy patted her on the head and then started to push her away as he got a little emotional himself. "You're always welcome here, Reedy," he told her before he started to reach for some bowls to fill them with peanuts, and Jessica walked back around the bar and into Jake's arms. Chippy poured a few beers, and set them down in front of Jake as he growled, "So I guess you're sticking around then?"

"Looks that way," Jake replied, leaning down to kiss Jessica's cheek. "Until this one comes to her senses."

"I told you I wouldn't," she replied with a laugh. Then she turned to Chippy and said, "He's not so bad. And he's sweet to me."

"Then I guess he can stay," Chippy replied with a shrug, still glaring slightly. 

Jake picked up two beers and led the way to a table near the others while Jessica carried the peanuts. "I think he finally tolerates me," Jake boasted. 

"It only took you several months," she replied with a smirk. "Chippy didn't fall for your charms as quickly as I did."

Jake set the beers down next to the peanuts and pulled Jessica closer to him. "You made me work hard for it. Ever since the first night I met you when you brought me here for a three dollar beer."

She reached up and raked her fingers through his hair. "I had to know for sure. That you really wanted me."

Jake kissed her rough on the lips right in front of everyone. "I need you, Jessica," he promised, making her smile. "I love you."

"Okay, that's enough of that," Bradshaw's wife said, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. "I just have a few words I want to say." She looked a little emotional as she started. "Jessica, you've become one of my very best friends in just a few short months. I know that your time at San Diego State started off a little rocky for you, and I'm sincerely sorry from the bottom of my heart that I didn't take the time to get to know you last semester when you really needed a friend in your corner. You're one of the kindest and smartest people I have ever met in my life."

Jake held Jessica as she looked like she was about to cry. "I'm the one who should be saying nice things to you!" she replied, swiping at her tears behind her glasses. "You've done so much to help me."

"And you've done so much by taking Jake off our hands for us," Bradley added loudly as everyone started laughing. 

"That's fair," Jake admitted with a grin as he pressed his lips to Jessica's hair.

Then Bradshaw's wife lifted her pint glass in the air, and everyone else did as well. "Congratulations on your tenure, Dr. Reed!"

The bar erupted in loud cheers, and Bradley shook up a bottle of champagne. Jake spent the rest of the night kissing the sticky sweetness from Jessica's face and making sure Dev kept his hands to himself. He made sure his girlfriend always had a Sam Adams in her hand and that her denim jacket was neatly buttoned over that bodysuit that he was dying to get his hands on. 

He didn't mind sharing Jessica with everyone else for the evening, especially since she'd made such a good friend in Bradshaw's wife. But much later, when Jessica turned and looked at him while she intentionally unbuttoned her jacket, he was more than ready to get her alone. 

"Take me home, Jake," she said sweetly, reaching for his hand. "I'm ready to go home."

He kissed her lips and wrapped his arms around her. "Let's get out of here, Smart Girl."

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

I hope you loved reading this as much as I have loved writing it! There will not be just one, but TWO epilogues! Stay tuned for those and pegging! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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[ramp-it-up]

The Gentleman Returns

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Veterinarian!Reader

Summary: Henry comes back. Can he keep his composure around you?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Explicit description of graphic sex. P orn with just a little bit of plot. Read at your own risk.  Flashbacks, Facetime s ex, long distance romance, Angst, pining, flirting, arguing, reader insecurity, wagering, brat behavior, dirty talk, size kink, or al s ex, raw p in v (wrap before you tap),  b reeding kink, pain kink, m asturbation,o ral sex (f recieving) Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is part two of Doctor and Mr. Cavill. Let me know if you liked it!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

“I am in control. I am not a man possessed. I am not an animal.”

Henry repeated it to himself as he prepared for his morning cardio run down, which just happened to be 3.5 miles down Route 60 to your house. He decided that running would serve two purposes: One, to round out his morning exercise, and two, to calm him down. 

It had been a long two weeks away. 

You were constantly on Henry’s mind and it took all of his acting skills to attend to the matters that took him home to Great Britain. But he was finally back in your town, which happened to be the location of his latest film role, and he was focused on letting you know that he didn’t think of you as just a good time in America. 

Henry knew that you thought he just wanted to have his way with you. The truth was that he felt for you deeply, and he didn’t quite know how to tell you. Things had gone much farther and faster than he ever imagined they would.

That’s why Henry was determined to be a gentleman today.

He’d stop by and say hello, collect Kal, ask you out on a date, and leave you intact like the lady you are. And then, maybe later, perhaps…. His heart rate escalated as he decided that he wouldn’t just grab you and take you up to your bed and fuck your brains out. 

No.

Absolutely not. 

Henry shook his head and smiled as he started the 5K run to your house. 

He’d landed the night before, and you both agreed that he needed to rest before he was in charge of Kal again. He slept, and then bounded out at 5 am the next morning to train and also to tame the boner that he’d awakened with for the past fortnight.

Henry’s head was in the clouds and he barely registered any exertion on the road to your place; he just daydreamed about led him to this point.

-------

Two weeks earlier...

Good morning Doctor. How are you?

The text was sent at 7:43 am, as soon as he touched down at JFK. Henry found that he had no qualms about looking desperate for you, because he actually was. 

Henry was surprised when you responded so promptly this early in the morning, but he was pleased.

Good morning Mr. Cavill. I’m a little sore. Fed the animals and am now taking a nice, hot bath.

Henry was concerned as he shouldered his backpack and walked down the jet bridge to the car area for his service. He was stopped for an autograph by someone who recognized him despite his baseball cap and mask, and as such, he didn't have time to really think when he responded.

Oh no! Did you lift too much feed? You really must lift heavy weights properly.

Henry’s brow was furrowed as he thought of you injured. You chuckled at Henry’s cluelessness. 

You’re carrying the weight that did the damage.

It took a second for the lightbulb to go off in Henry’s head, and when it did, he groaned, remembering how tight you’d been around him, but then he frowned again. He dialed you as soon as he was in the SUV with the door closed. 

You stared at your phone, not believing that he was facetiming you. After hesitating for just a moment, you answered.

“Hello?”

Henry peered at you through the screen then smiled, bringing the sun into your world.

“Hullo.”

You smiled back and bit your lip and Henry watched your mouth turn into a little pout. Damn, he was a goner. 

“Are you okay?”

His voice was laced with a sexy tone that sent a tingle down your spine. You could swear that your title had now become a term of endearment instead of a joke. Your head was spinning with desire, need and a little uncertainty. 

“I am perfectly fine.”

You certainly looked fit, Henry thought. And then he spied the bruise on your lip.

“What happened to your mouth?”

Henry looked angry, and your heart beat faster, thinking of how attractive he was when the dark clouds entered his eyes.

“… I split my lip when I… “ 

You looked down, eyelashes fanning your heated cheeks. What came next out of your mouth was a low and husky, but perfectly clear, whisper.

“I split my lip on you.”

Even in the bath, you grew moist at the memory of trying to accommodate Henry’s girth the night before. The slight pain of your bruised lip was forgotten the night before when you’d looked up at him through your lashes. 

Henry’s barely perceptible moan brought you back into the moment and made you rub your thighs together under the water. He took you in, an alluring vision all slippery and wet and beautiful. If he could actually fly like Superman back to your side, he would.

“Dear God. Do you know what you do to me?”

Henry intoned it deeply as he rubbed his jaw and licked his lips. 

“No, I don’t know, Mr. Cavill. Tell me?”

Henry let out a dark chuckle, double checking that the privacy partition was up in the car even though he had his airpods in.

“You’re an enchantress. I cant resist your allure, my dear Doctor, you’re captivating and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left.”

He watched you blush and had an idea. 

“I have to get out of this car soon, and I’ll have to make it to my room to take care of this evidence of your affect on me…” 

He panned down to his lap.

“Don’t…please.”

Henry's hand stilled on the ridge of his denimed dick. You’d commanded him with a whisper. He growled your name deep in his throat and you visibly shivered.

“I mean. It’s not for me to decide, but, if you were looking forward to us participating in activities like we did last night again…I’d rather you not…spill anything without me there to collect it. That is, if you could wait that long to cum again. To cum.. inside… me again..”

When you looked up at him again, you saw Henry’s eyes dilate as he bit his lip thinking of your wet heat. His cock jumped as debased images of what he wanted to do to you flooded his brain. He cleared his throat and his eyebrow rose as he bared his teeth in a feral smile to speak to you, his deep bass rumbling through you.

“You want me to save my seed to fill you up with, hmmm?”

You nodded, biting your lip, and your half closed eyes and whimpers only made him harder. He moved his hands to the leather seat of the suv, as he listened to the water moving around you as your free hand floated to your thigh. 

“How about I come back with my balls heavy with cum to pump you full of and let drip out of your pores. Could you handle that?”

You squirmed, your face full of desire. Henry felt like a man starved for your touch although he just left you not 4 hours earlier.

“Mmmmmm... I’d like that. Very, very much.”

Henry watched you throw your head back and licked his lips,trying to find the taste of you from last night.

“D’you need to be fucked again, Doctor?”

He was speaking softly, but resolutely now, his dulcet tones making you feel some kind of way.

“Ohhh, Henry… I’m still a little sore and swollen.”

Henry bit his lip. He didn’t want you to be discomforted, but the idea that he’d ruined you made him mad with need. He was panting as if he’d played a full rugby match and he was ready to burst inside his pants. 

“Are you? I should be there, to kiss that sweet little cunt. Soothe all her sore places with my tongue. D’you need that?” 

Henry stopped himself from calling you Love, but the pet name reverberated in his brain as he watched your beautiful face full of want for him.

“Yes Henry. Oh my goddd!”

You brought your hand up to your neck and Henry wished it was his.

“Lemme see those nipples, play with them for me, yeah?” 

You did as you were told and Henry watched as you filled your hands with yourself. He nearly cried at the sight. He instinctively rubbed his cock again, but he could control himself.

Couldn’t he?

With you he was not so sure, but there was no going back now, he had to see you through to your end.

“Feel that pussy for me, let her know how much I miss her already. Get in there, Love. Let me hear how much she aches for me.”

He’d let it slip. And he didn’t care. You didn't either. He could call you anything he wanted as long as he didn’t stop talking you through this need. 

“Oh… Hen-ry…”

Your mouth opened wider and your head was thrown back as your hands ventured further down your body.

“Are you circling that plucky little bud for me?”

“Y-yessssss.”

The stutter and the look on your face made him even bolder. Henry clenched his jaw and his fists to keep control.

“I’m not far from the hotel. Give me one before I get there. Be a good girl for me…you were so good last night…took my cock so well, although I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“I’m not…hurt so good Henry…”

Henry kept his eyes on you as you licked your lips and keened. You had him sweating 1500 miles away. 

“I wanted to fill you up and watch it drip out of you…”

“F-f-fuck…!” 

You were panting like a wild animal, and Henry swallowed the whine that was lodged in his throat with a growl. 

“Now stuff three of your pretty little fingers in that pretty little plump cunt. Cum for me. Give me something to dream about.”

You heard his fierce whisper and your eyes rolled as you tried to catch your breath. 

“H-h-henryyyy!”

Henry experienced three things: your beautiful face as you screamed with pleasure, his cock raging hard in the confines of his jeans, and his heart beating a mile a minute in his ears. Henry cursed under his breath and reached for the cold bottle of water provided by the car service. He took a swig, then closed it and put it on his forehead. 

Henry tried to collect himself as he listened to your breathing settle and watched you open your eyes slowly and smile shyly at him.

“Such a good girl for me. You alright?”

You hummed. 

“Yes, Mr. Cavill, Sir.”

Henry grinned. Maybe he had tamed the brat a little.

“Now. No more orgasms until I return.”

Henry the Dom was in full force. How was this your life? All you could do was smile at the fortune of having one of the sexiest men in the world lavish this attention on you. You decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

“Right.”

Henry cocked his brow at you. He hoped he looked hard. Because inside….Well, inside, he was all mush for you.

“What was that?”

“I mean, No Sir.”

Henry wanted to say a lot, but he needed to get on with his day; his first interview was in less than two hours.

“We will talk later, Doctor, before I board the redeye for London..”

“Of course, Mr. Cavill. Sir.”

Henry threw you a look as you winked and ended the call. He sighed and stepped out of the car, head full of you as he headed to the penthouse.

You climbed out of the bath and fell back into bed naked, dreaming of Henry in your arms.

—--

Three days later….

The picture you’d sent made Henry wild.  

It was an innocent picture of Kal, his snout resting on your bare thigh. It was exactly where he wanted to be.

“That rake. Trying to steal my girl,” he murmured to himself as he grinned at his phone.

“What’s that Hen?”

Henry looked up at the two men who were smirking at him over their brandies. Henry looked from Corey to Jamie’s face. He hadn’t heard a word they’d said.

“What?”

“You’ve not stared down at your lap and smiled like that since Year 7.” 

Corey knew Henry better than almost anyone.

“Who is it?”

Jamie was curious what had his mate so distracted. Henry’s head was in the clouds in between press for their movie that was being released, he was working out every spare minute, and he wasn’t looking at any of the lovely ladies that threw themselves at him, not even a little. 

Henry’s face lit up.

“I don’t even know where to begin. She’s… she’s amazing…”

Henry commenced to waxing poetic about you. 

When he finally took a breath, Corey asked, “Yeah, yeah.. But how does she look, lad?”

Henry grinned and flipped through the pictures that you’d sent him on request. He found one that was relatively tame, with you sitting ensconced in his sweatshirt and nothing else. All you could see was your freshly washed face, that smile, and those legs.

Corey whistled.

“There’s a looker!” 

He passed the phone to Jamie who looked at you and then up at Henry, who was beaming.

“That’s why you’ve been hitting the gym harder than usual. Working off that tension.”

Henry grinned.

“Yeah, she’s going to get it when I get back.”

Corey was quick to catch him.

“He’s saving himself? Oh shit. This is serious. When’s the wedding?”

Henry blanched.

“What?...No… we only just…”

“Henry. Did you notice the girl with the huge rack who’s walked by our table four times?”

Henry looked around the restaurant.

“Where? No…”

“She’s right there!”

Henry looked in the direction that Corey pointed.

“Her?” Henry laughed. “She’s… passable.”

Corey looked at Jamie and shook his head.

“You’re right, James. He’s gone. Raise a glass.”

Henry shook his head as Corey and James toasted and took a mockingly somber drink, then he clinked his own.

“Here’s to My Dear Doctor.”

“If she can tie you down, then cheers to Dr. Y/N!”

Henry shared a laugh with his friends.

“Now who wants to go on a run in the morning?”

—

Later that night:

Although it was after midnight for Henry, it was only after 7 where you were. But your insecurity permeated your conversation with him that night. You went on about his dating history and he railed against online gossip mongers. Finally, you said what you were really thinking.

“I am so not your type, Henry.”

Henry sighed.

“What are you on about?”

I’m a convenience while you’re in town. And you still think you want me because we’re practically sexting every moment of the day. I bet that if we didn’t talk until you had to come back, you’d forget all about me. You’ll find some beautiful English rose…”

“How much?”

“Hunh?” You were being thrown off of your rant.

“How much do you want to bet?”

“Henry….”

“We’ve got, what, 10 more days? 100 quid.”

You couldn’t believe him.

“You’re trying to make light of this. Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset Henry.”

“So you’re chicken?”

“I am NOT!” You huffed. “What is a ‘quid’? A pound? You’re betting me a hundred pounds?”

“I forgot how poor the dollar is. I’ll take it easy on you. 100 dollars US.”

“You have a deal Mr. Cavill.”

Henry grinned on the other end of the line. Your brat side would work to his advantage this time.

“Deal. No more phone calls. Just two texts a day. Good morning and good night.”

You were quiet a long time. Then you decided, if it was going to end, you should just go ahead and end it.

“Okay. Goodbye Henry.”

“See you soon, Doctor.”

—-----

Ten days after that conversation, you were feeding the sheep when Kal started barking and going crazy at the fence. You approached it and looked down the road to see Henry running toward you at an impressive pace.

Butterflies began to flutter in your belly. The last 10 days had sent you spiraling. Two texts a day were not enough. You missed Henry horribly, and you’d imagined him diddling half of Europe since you practically told him to. Well, you only had yourself to blame. You’d ruined a good thing, even if it were temporary.

You didn’t want to face him, but you had to give him his dog. You didn’t have much time prepare yourself because Henry’s time was good. He ran up and leaned on the fence as he greeted Kal. Then he looked up at you, hypnotizing you with those eyes and that smile of his. 

Damn, you’d missed his face.

Henry was unequivocally a goner. The sight of you made him light headed, the erratic nature of his heart not a good combination with the increase from running.

“Hello, Doctor. How are you?”

Henry smiling at you made you warm. It felt like you’d never been asked that question before and you wanted to tell him your life story, but you just said, “Fine. And you Mr. Cavill?”

Henry grinned at the formalities. You were still his incorrigible brat that he’d left in bed two weeks ago. 

His?

Yes, His, he decided as he watched you unlatch the gate enabling Kal’s attack. He laughed and rolled around in the grass with his pup and you watched fondly. You could get used to these two brutes. You tried to walk around them when Kal went after you too, tripping you up and causing you to fall onto Henry, straddling him as Kal barked excitedly beside you two. 

You looked into Henry’s eyes, feeling him beneath you. It wasn’t sexual, not quite, just familiar. Henry was being calm and his hands just rested on your sides as he grinned up at you. You wanted to hug him. But instead, you made to get up.

“S-sorry.”

“No problem at all, Doctor.”

You cleared your throat and stood up, placing your hands on your hips, grimacing at Henry, who was up now himself. His hair was haloed by the early morning sunlight, and he winked at you as he brushed himself off. Damn him and his perfect features.

“D’you want some water?”

Henry regarded you, solemn and intense, when a drop of sweet traveled from his hairline into his right eye. You felt like you were drooling as you watched his biceps flex as he wiped it away.

“You’ve read my mind.”

The timbre of his voice reminded you of that night on facetime, and your pulse quickened at the thought that you had indeed read his mind. You wanted him, and here he was acting like you were just acquaintances. He really had fooled around in Europe. You could have kicked yourself.

You turned and Henry followed you into your house, taking off his shoes and washing his hands as you did. You watched Henry gulp down the water and you kept your distance. Kal seemed content to give you both your space in the kitchen as he laid in the sunlight from the window in the dining room.

“Doctor, we need to talk.”

Your heart dropped. You knew it.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We talked already. You found someone else. Or had some random hookups. Just as I told you you would.”

Henry’s blood was starting to boil. He took a deep breath, but his voice still came out menacing.

“You are the most maddening woman.You don’t get to tell me what I want, or what I did or what I should do. Like you said, we don’t know each other that well. But I thought that we had an understanding, L/N…”

Now you were angry.

“What understanding? How can we have an understanding if we’ve never really talked. We just fucked. You were horny. I was there. We. Just. Fucked. That’s it. It was good. Now it is over.”

“Oh? It’s over is it? I’ve half a mind to turn you over my knee.”

You chucked your chin up at him like you were daring him.

Henry saw the glint in your eye and he knew what had to happen. Gentlemanly thoughts were out the window. He put the glass down and advanced on you.

You moved back and opened your mouth to reply, but what came out was a squeak. You closed it quickly

“That’s right, listen good, little mouse.”

He moved again and you stayed put.

“Yes. We fucked. We fucked and it was amazing. But we fucked because I’m insanely attracted to you in a myriad ways, not just because I wanted to fuck. You were right. I know how to smash and dash, Doctor, and this is not that.”

Henry paused to look into your eyes, to make sure you understood him. 

“I’m in awe of you. You’re a skilled professional, you’re kind, and gentle, and a nerd who loves to have a good time. You soothe me. You make me think and you make me go mad every time I think about how your body seems made for mine.”

You were inches apart, but he didn’t touch you. 

“I’m entirely and utterly smitten with you. And I’m afraid of the power you have over me Doctor. I’m supposed to behave as a gentleman, but you make it impossible.”

Then, he stepped back leaned up against your counter, running his hand through his curls. It was the counter where you first kissed. You smiled at him.

Henry eyed you warily and crossed his arms, showcasing his muscles and veins. You were dangerous. but he was going to be strong.

“What?”

“You mean that you didn’t get with anyone else when you were away?”

Henry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“No. Didn’t want to.”

He stood up straighter as you advanced on him now.

“This perfect specimen of a body?”

You pointed, just shy of touching him. Henry reached back and grabbed the counter to keep from grabbing you. 

You reached out and trailed your hand down his muscle shirt, stopping shy of the waistband of his shorts.

“And you’re willing to wait even longer?”

Henry cleared his throat.

“Yes.”

Henry’s voice broke and he caught your eye. At that moment, you knew your power.

“It’s just for you, Doctor. When you’re ready.”

You scoffed at him. And leaned up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 

“But this body is for the world, Mr. Cavill. After all, millions drool over it every day.”

Your lips brushed the shell of his ear, and Henry closed his eyes and suppressed a shiver. He gave in and reached for you, grabbing you and pulling your flush to him. He looked down, eyes sparkling.

“Maybe so, but how we feel pressed together is just between me and you.”

You looked into the softness of his eyes and you could tell he was sincere.

“But how can you know?”

“I just know that I know. I want to protect you, I want to comfort you… I want to...”

“Oh, Henry…”

You threw your arms around him and kissed him. He lay claim to your mouth again and after, he rested his forehead on yours, panting.

“I’m… I want to be a gentleman…Want to take you out. Wine…dine…”

You palmed him over his shorts and watched his eyes dilate.

“What if I take you out?”

Henry watched you lick your palm and reach into his sweats as he forgot to breathe.

“I- I …”   Henry looked down at what you were doing. “Careful…’

You looked up at him, determined now.

“I thought you were going to cum inside me and leak out of my pores.”

“Mmmmmmmmmother of god!” 

Henry clenched his jaw as he growled at you. 

“I do want to fuck you very badly, Doctor. But you deserve… to be treated….”

Henry’s voice faded away as you continued to stroke his rock hard length.

“It’s been 14 days. I deserve to be fucked. Hard. Need you ... please… Sir.”

You took his right hand and put it on your breast. He rolled your nipple through your shirt and then mirrored the gesture with his left. Henry had a brief thought that you were trying top him before his brain short circuited.

Before you knew it, you’d been spun around and your face was on the cool marble of your countertop. Henry pulled your leggings down to your ankles. You pulled one leg out and Henry hoisted it up on the counter. You leaned back and desperately grabbed at his curls.

“Please Henry, Give!”

He leaned over and whispered in your ear as his fingertips spread you wide. 

“Trust me Doctor, you will take. But first…”

Henry sank to his knees and whispered to your cunt.

“Been so long. Need to taste…mmmmmmm.”

You were pulled back onto Henry’s face as he buried his mouth into your wet crevasse. He hummed and smacked as if he were eating the best meal of his life. Henry certainly thought so. He destroyed your soul as he alternated fucking you with his tongue and licking you rudely throughout your entire crease.

After you came on his face, he took off your pants completely, and lifted you easily in his arms, walking a few feet to your couch.

Henry set you down face first before him, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“You’re a venus, my dear Doctor.”

Henry’s thick fingers moved from your knee digging into the couch cushions up your thigh to the wetness dripping there. Four fingers found your slick and swiped, while his thumb ghosted your puckered hole.

“Mhmmmmm. Henry…”

“So responsive f’me. Want to be everywhere all at once.”

Henry enjoyed the feeling of his cock slipping in your wetness, the way you moved to try and get him inside you. He moaned knowing how much you wanted him too. His hands moved up from your hips to find your nipples under the top you were wearing and your moves became more wanton. Henry became irritated at the confines of your shirt. He reached for the hem.

“Take this off…There we go.”

He pulled you to him, your cool back against his warm torso, and he trailed his hands up and down your body.

“‘ve wanted my hands on you ever since I left…”

“Me too, Mr. Cavill.”

You’d turned your head to whisper, and Henry’s mouth captured yours in a kiss. You wiggled your ass against the pounding organ that was wedged between your cheeks, and he reached down to grab your hip to still you.

“Want my cock?”

You shook your head.

“No. Need it.”

And with that, you bent down again and looked over your shoulder at him, arching your back.

Henry gazed down at your presented ass and turned his head to the side, admiring, as that eyebrow raised and made you that much wetter.

“Yesss…” His blue eyes met yours. “I believe that you do.”

You whimpered and dropped your head, watching from below as Henry grabbed his cock at the base, his fingers splayed out against his big balls as he lined up and breached you with his rude, wide, mushroom tip. 

“Let me…”

The stretch burned deliciously, and both of you grunted as Henry eased into you, his length and girth making you question reality again. 

“…Slide into this warm…”

“Oh, Henry! Feels so-”

He cut you off.

“Shit! Love how you take it.”

“Oh god!”

You were almost sobbing at how good it felt.

“I feel you inside me.”

“D’you feel it getting bigger?”

You could hear the grin in his voice. You nodded and sobbed, the feeling indescribable.

“Stretching you out. So, so good.”

“Uh unhhh uhmmmmm. Missed you Hen...ry!”

“Me, too, Love. Me....too!”

Henry was moaning behind you as he smoothly thrust in and out of you, making it so good that your buried your head into the pillow and drooled into it between your screams of: “Oh my goddd!”

“Mmmm just like that, take it all for me.”

He delivered a sound slap to your behind and you keened.

“Love it when you take it all.”

He smacked you again.

“D’you like my cock?” he demanded.

“Mmmmyeah hmmm, I love itttt!”

Henry moved his hand around to your clit and started manipulating it.Then, he moved your hand to your sensitive nub as you whimpered.

“Now take over for me. Circle that clit. Justttt like that.”

You did as you were told, your legs shaking.

“Ohhh oh my god, Henry!”

“Just like that. Good girl.”

Henry smacked your ass yet again.

“Now keep it up.”

The stimulation was getting to be too much. This man knew how to fuck all of you, not just your body, but your mind.

“Henry…” 

Your plaintive wail was almost too much for Henry. Yet he persisted.

“M’ gonna fuck you….”

Your wetness was making what was now happening sound obscene, and served to get you closer to the orgasm he hadn’t given you permission to have yet.

“Oh god!”

You wanted to pull your hand away, but you obeyed his command.

“There…”

Henry swiveled his hips so that your insides lit up like a christmas tree as he fucked you.

“Please…”

You couldn’t breathe, and you were beginning to feel a certain pressure in your pelvis. You whimpered again as Henry made you feel every nerve ending in your body.

“…Just…. there…”

Henry’s thrusts were controlled and steady, despite feeling your cunt clenching in waves around him as you tried in vain to stave off your end.

“Oh yeah I like that.” 

He’d leaned down, hot breath in your ear.

“Oh I feel it Henry.”

“God yeah. Me too. You like that, Doctor?”

“Oh Godddddd!”

Henry pulled you upright and you struggled to keep circling your clit as your hips sped up of their own volition. You used two hands as Henry squeezed your hips, holding on as you bounced up and down on his dick. His eyes were glued to your bouncing tits. 

“Oh shit! Just there…bounce like that, yeah.” 

Henry’s mouth descended and latched on, sucking your jugular as you fucked yourself on him. His hands kneaded your bouncing breasts. He was in heaven.

“Use me, Baby. Make yourself feel good.”

“You’re so fucking big….”

Henry grinned into your neck.

“Feel it Doctor…” 

Henry was blowing in your ear as he suckled on your lobe now. He bent you back over, placing his hand between your shoulder blades so you would move your hands and deliver the arch. You were relieved yet still desperate. Henry looked down and groaned.

“Look at that cream.”

The timbre of Henry’s voice and the slapping of skin on skin was more than you could bear.

“Henry… Please! Can I cum?”

The slapping intensified as Henry sped up and got sloppy, losing control finally.

“Cum… now Doctor…”

Henry stroked into you fiercely, prolonging your orgasm until your spasming channel forced him out of you.

You both exclaimed in disappointment, and Henry in laughed as he kissed your neck and plunged back inside you, fucking you even harder now.

“Thank you for that. I was about to spill everything inside you and this would be over. Gave me a bit of a breather. Now give me that arch again.”

He bent you over again.

“Just there. Oh yeah… Looka there…that arch…yesss. Love that arch.”

He crossed his arms to hold your hips still so that he could go even harder.

“Am I fucking you properly?”

You were drooling and your eyes were rolling; you barely registered his question. Henry slapped your ass.

“Oh. Yesssss! Fuck yesss. Cock is so hard…so big.”

“Oh, shit…sssssss!”

Henry hissed as he felt his cum crawl up from his balls. 

“I….ugh… Henry!!!... I’m cuming…”

“M…Me toooo!”

—-

You were the little spoon to Henry’s big as he held you on your couch, the plaid throw covering your nakedness. You stroked Henry’s arm as he held you close.

“Did you spend the entire two weeks thinking that up?”

Henry leaned over to look at you, smiled, and kissed your nose. Then he relaxed again.

“That was entirely off the cuff. You’re an inspiration. A muse.”

“A sexual muse, hunh.”

Henry pulled you closer to him. 

“So much more than sexually. You inspire me in so many areas.”

You looked back at him quizzically. He just grinned.

“Come, lets get cleaned up and get dressed. And give me ride over to my place, would you? We have a brunch reservation in… two hours at The Orangery. I’m taking you out on the town.”

“And you can pay, because you owe me a hundred dollars.”

You realized that it was put up or shut up time as Henry grinned at you.

——

If you liked it, reblog and let me know!

[aventurine83]

The Tempest

William James Moriarty x Reader

"Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand, with hair up-staring, ーthen like reeds, not hair,ーwas the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.'" William leant back in his armchair, scarlet eye blinking beneath his beautiful blond eyelashes as he gazed into empty space. Over his other eye was a dark black eyepatch.

You simply hummed as you looked into the book you held, of Shakespeare's plays. You remembered only so many quotes from it. William had no need for a book, he could recite all 40 of Shakespeare's plays from memory. Him reciting thus to you helped you get through the book quickly and in a more joyous way. Hearing your husband speak was something that gave you much mirth, especially when you were both seated across each other in comfortable armchairs in front of the fireplace in the midst of a dreary winter in your small home at Brighton.

"I feel bad for Ariel." you commented. "Has to do his master's bidding."

William chuckled softly and dryly on hearing your words. "I doubt Ariel is completely blameless." he uttered as he propped one leg over the other. William had a most adorable and polite way of seating himself, it never failed to make you swoon and want to wrap him in a hug.

"Thats true." you replied, closing your book, yawning.

"Are you tired? We may stop here for today if that is your wish." William smiled, his scarlet gaze homing in on yours.

"That would be much appreciated." you smiled at him, noting the soft expression he held. William had always had a solemn, distant expression before, so seeing him thus softened brought a sort of happiness to your heart. "Sherlock didn't barge in tonight. Odd, considering he does so every single night taking every advantage of the fact he lives next door." you sighed.

William chuckled heartily. "I would have appreciated had Sherly shown himself. I do have a few things that I need to talk to him about." he hummed softly, his voice as soft and lovely as ever, decorated with his signature British accent.

"We should get to bed, Liam." you placed your hand on the man's arm, rubbing it gently. "You have an early day tomorrow."

"Indeed." William nodded gently, his scarlet eye reminiscient of either the beauty of sunsets or the glistening crimson of blood freshly smeared on the sharpened tip of a blade. "Were I but wretched, my love." he sighed, placing his hand on your cheek. "It pains me to see your attentions gone to work on so odious a man as myself, on such vulgar a connexion, as has hardly been since the notion of the propriety of society, and that of the worth of life, came into being." his tone was soft, his eyes sorrowful, such a broken man he was, yet so beautiful.

"William..." you could hardly place your words right, you had little idea of what to say, and you wished for him to finish his thought as well.

"For years have my actions led me, in desperation for a result, caused me to sin twice and twice again." William uttered, his expression hardening. "For years, have these palms been seeped through with a scarlet as irremovable as the stains of ink on a canvas pure white, untainted; marred with blotches so painfully obvious as would most likely repulse any whose misfortune beget them gaze upon it, and scruple through its length and width desperately so as to propagate the assemblage of a search of true purpose, true affability, even a sense of alacrity within but finding nothing."

You gently tugged at William's eyepatch, an action that caused him to flinch before he tried to relax ultimately under your observance. You removed it carefully, revealing a scar that marred his skin, and a discoloured eye that could see no longer. You gently kissed the scar, your hand resting on William's cheek. "There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair a house, good things will strive to dwell with't." you spoke softly. Lines from the Tempest, offered to Ferdinand by Miranda.

William's gaze immediately softened, his heart warm and full, recognizing the lines the moment they slipped past your mouth. He pulled you closer by the waist, a gentle, small smile tugging at his lips. "You render me speechless, you render me most powerless and above all, a fool to your whims." he kissed your lips gently. "Oh sweet, fair Miranda of mine." he brought you down onto his lap, kissing your neck. "My darling mistress."

[delfiore]

—A SUMMER’S TALE.

pairing: vada cavell x reader

synopsis: the summer before college, vada joins mia's family on vacation in france and falls in love with the scenery, and a charismatic lifeguard.

word count: 9.6k

warnings: talk of the shooting

a/n: it's summer so you know my cmbyn flare ups are happening. i’ve been writing this for a few weeks now and i’m super pumped it’s done. pls let me now what you like, what you don’t like about this! i’d really appreciate some feedback!! and i’m sorry if i can’t reply to you if you comment on this as this acc is a secondary blog

The villa had one feature that stood out in particular—a hallway that ran through the base of the house, connecting the kitchen to the open grass area in the back. Even the tiniest gust of wind could collect into a large breeze to combat the sticky heat of the day.

Vada closed her eyes and lifted her arms by her side as she felt the breeze glide through her. She could smell an earthy, hay-like smell of flowers that had been bathing in sunlight wafting in from the garden behind the villa. It didn’t take much to notice; summer in southern France was in full swing.

I could live here, she thought. Four weeks of this? Away from the repetitive scenery of the American suburbs, away from expectations. Only a few minutes since she’s gotten off the car and seen the yellow walls and red bricks of the Mediterranean villa, and she’s been buzzing ever since. She’s never actually left the country before, and the long flight over was jarring, to say the least. But the beauty of what she saw as soon as she landed made up for it.

Mia had instructed her to come along upstairs to put her things away; Vada would be occupying the guest room next to hers. She swore her friendship with Mia Reed started because they both went through a traumatic thing together, but it was moments like these when she was grateful for the perks.

“I could use a nap,” Mia said, rubbing her face.

It was nearly nine in the morning when the girls finished unpacking. Mia’s parents had given them the morning to get settled and get used to the jet lag.

“I’m not too tired,” Vada said, “maybe I’ll go into town for the morning.”

“You sure you don’t need me to come with you?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun. It’s about time I put my four years of high school French to the test.”

The road into town winded downhill, and she was grateful she used one of the bikes the Reeds had available at their villa, as she would have dreaded the trek back up, had she gone on foot. She mapped out exactly the way into the town square and was determined to check everything out before returning for lunch. Thank god for Google Maps.

She had also bought a paper map of the town in a nearby kiosk and, after nearly two hours of exploring, mapped out a general layout of notable places in town. There was a fountain in the middle of the square in front of a church that Vada would use as a reference for everything; from the Fountain facing the church going left would be the town hall and that little kiosk, going right would be the local post office and the way back to the villa, opposite the church facing ahead lead down a slanted cobblestone alley full of restaurants and gift shops, as well as the way to the beach.

It must have been in the high 80s (30s Celsius) that day, so Vada decided to reward herself with some ice cream in the town square before she headed back. It was so hot that when sitting on a bench in the shades, she still had to try and keep the ice cream from melting all over her lap.

“Lillian’s ice cream is nice, but it melts quickly. You should try Karim’s down the street.”

Vada looked up at the voice in surprise, as it was English that was being spoken to her.

“Oh, totally!” She replied quickly. “How did you know I speak English?”

“I haven’t seen you around here.”

“But I could have also known French, right?”

“Touché, but I also recognize a compatriot when I see one.”

You wore an oversized white button-up that barely skirted past your black shorts, and your flip-flops indicated that you might have had a better idea of what the weather was going to be like as opposed to her in her high-neck basketball shoes. Peaking out from between the hem of your shirt was a necklace in the shape of a hummingbird, dangling and reflected in the sun.

“That obvious, huh?”

“Maybe a little." You grinned and shook your head from side to side. "Only tourists go to Lillian for ice cream.”

“So you’re not one, I assume.”

“I wouldn’t say so, no. My family has been coming here every summer ever since I was eight. These people are probably sick of me by now.” You chuckled.

This is your time, Vada, be smooth. “Lucky for you, you’ll have someone new to entertain.” She grinned and pointed at herself.

. . . Adequate.

The melodic laugh that escaped you gave her a new-found confidence, and she decided that it was to be her new favorite sound.

“Alright, since you seem to know the area so well,” Vada said. “What’s fun to do around here?”

Conversation flowed so easily between the two of you, she had almost forgotten that she only met you 15 minutes ago. Granted, you were also easy on the eye, and Vada would always remember the way the water from the fountain reflected in waves across your skin.

At one point she had started talking about the time her family got stranded in the middle of nowhere on a road trip to Phoenix. Vada felt like she was talking too much, but the way you laughed along with her story made her feel like it wasn’t for naught.

The bell tower of the church rang throughout the square. Vada widened her eyes and checked her phone, it was noon.

"Shit, I have to get back. My host family's gonna wonder where I am." She stood up quickly and collected her bike. The height of the seat and her haste caused her to stumble, and she would have fallen if not for you grabbing her by the arm and holding her up.

"Oh, okay. I’m sure there’s a story about a daytime Cinderella somewhere.”

She looked up and you were smirking. "Vada," she said. Maybe she shouldn’t have told you, Cinderella was fine, you didn’t know each other.

She could barely make out your attempt at her name on your lips before you nodded.

“Y/N.” You held your hand out for her to take. There was that touch that changed the course of her summer, the one touch that set into motion a journey toward a certain feeling that Vada had never felt before.

"Bye, Y/N!" She called behind her before rounding the corner, past the post office, and back to the Reed villa.

Mia had been waiting by the front door and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Vada cycling uphill.

"Where the hell have you been? We thought you'd been kidnapped!"

"Wait, could you get kidnapped here?" Vada’s face dropped at the thought, even though she was positively out of breath.

"You could get kidnapped anywhere, V."

"Well, I got lost." She hopped off her bike and set it by the entrance. "My phone died so I couldn't use Maps."

Her friend rolled her eyes and led her inside where a hearty lunch awaited. It was mid-June and apricots were in season for dessert.

It wasn't until late afternoon the next day that Vada regained the energy to go outside again. The jet lag had finally caught on, and she spent the morning asleep until noon. Mia had suggested going to the beach, which was great because she could see how things were, and either get into the water or take another nap.

Mia—being Mia—wore her bathing suit and a thin cardigan as her attire, while Vada decided on wearing an oversized tee and shorts over her bathing suit.

"Don't freak out. I've invited some friends. Just kids from the area," said Mia, once they arrived at the beach.

Vada stayed back, as Mia was greeted by several people similar in age to her, speaking in French at a pace her high school education couldn’t help her understand.

“This is Vada, she’s a friend from home.”

A curly-headed boy stood up from his lounge chair and sauntered over to give Mia a kiss on each cheek, then looked over to Vada and did the same. “Corentin, but please call me Coco,” he said and took both their bags. Vada didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on Mia’s form a bit longer than normal.

“Come, Vada! Mia, where have you been hiding this one? I’m Marlène. This is Sasha.” The brunette pulled her by the hand and gestured to the boy sitting next to her. He was slender with blonde hair part in the middle. “We’re about to go into the water if you want to join.”

“Where’s Noémie?” asked Mia.

“Déjà à l’eau. No doubt to show off to the lifeguard.” Sasha snickered, nodding his head towards the water. He took another drag from his cigarette and rested his arm back against Marlène’s chair.

“Speaking of the lifeguard . . .” Vada followed Marlène’s gaze towards . . . you.

Her mouth hung open as she watched you, in red shorts and a white T-shirt, a whistle hanging from your neck. You pulled your sunglasses up to your head and gave Mia la bise.

Of course, she thought. She had hoped to see you again, but only when there was no one else around, and that you’d catch her by surprise when she was alone once more. She’d only met you, but she wished that she could have you all alone, not like a secret, but like a prized possession.

“And just how many people have died while you’re on watch?” Mia teased.

“Zero, but very soon,” you pointed at her, “one.”

When you turned to Vada, her breath hitched. “Hi,” you greeted with that warm smile again. Even in your work attire, she spotted that necklace next to your whistle.

“Y/N, this is—”

“Vada, the daytime Cinderella. We met yesterday in the square.” You replied. “Did I forget to mention I work here?”

Vada was grinning like an idiot, her cheeks tinted pink at the nickname. “Yup, you did.”

“Y/N!” Over jogged a gorgeous girl, even Vada had to admit. Her black bathing suit hugged her curves perfectly, and though her hair was completely wet, the water droplets clinging to her olive skin made her glow. “T'as prévu aller en boîte ce week-end, ou bien? J'ai chopé l'info qu'y a un nouveau DJ en ville, et il envoie du pâté!”

She was clinging onto your arm, and speaking way too fast for Vada to understand, but she picked up on some keywords: ce week-end, and nouveau DJ.

When she finally noticed Vada there, her excitement subsided, but she walked over anyway to greet her, like an afterthought. “Salut. I’m Noémie.”

“Hi. Vada.”

Just as quickly as you arrived, Noémie had led you away, talking your ear off about something that Vada didn’t have the heart to eavesdrop on. Her eyes followed your form, picking up on the way you kept your arms by your side even when Noémie was practically hanging off of you. In a sporadic moment, Vada thought she saw you looking back over her shoulder at the friend group, and maybe toward her.

“Your phone died, huh?” Mia poked her elbow into her side with a teasing grin.

“Shut up,” Vada murmured. “What’s the deal with them anyway?”

“They were together last summer,” Sasha replied, then turned to the others. “Plan cul, how do you say?”

“A fling, but Noémie seems more attached than Y/N ever did,” said Coco.

“No doubt Y/N has already found a new paramour for the summer,” Marlène commented.

“It’s summertime. Anything’s possible.”

As much as she hated it, you plagued her mind, much more than she cared to admit. She didn’t want to think about what your initial conversation meant to you (if it did at all), or what the lack of words in your second meeting meant. She didn’t want to think about Noémie either, how she seemed so confident to get your attention, and an up-and-down look from her made Vada want to crawl into a hole.

She remembered the handshake. The speed at which she rode away wasn’t entirely to get home in time before Mia’s parents called the police, but to get away from the butterflies that burst in her stomach that moment her hand firmly shook yours. She’d seen how you greeted your friends, but to her, she offered a handshake. Though the gesture itself was completely platonic and can be passed off as a farewell between two strangers, she felt a sense of exclusivity, that American camaraderie you shared with her in a foreign land. Common courtesy as a mode of intimacy. Revisiting it now, Vada recognized it as a sign of attraction and an apprehension to the speed at which it enveloped her.

She would see you around town in your work uniform after your shift, sometimes you’d be talking to people, sometimes you were the buyer yourself. No matter the person though—from the tourists asking for directions to the old owner of the bookstore by the fountain, they always loved you and talked to you like you were their best friend. She’d see you from afar, wanting to talk to you, but then get anxious the moment you spotted her a give her a friendly wave.

Then there were times when you would come by the Reed villa. Philip and Andre always received you like you were an esteemed guest, gifting you fruits from the trees in the backyard. She loved to see how you acted around different people, and to the Reeds who had known you for years, you were awful shy.

“Invite your parents over. We should all have dinner sometime!”

“Oh, my parents aren’t here this summer. My dad’s busy with a conference in Singapore, but they’ll drop by at the end of July.”

Even the times you were invited to stay for supper, it was clear you knew how to hold a conversation over the dinner table. She wondered if you were studying to be a politician because you seemed to charm everyone and had the best manners. Mia would not-so-subtly yield the spot next to you for Vada, and secretly, she was glad to be sitting next to you.

For the first time in her life, she felt a force holding her back, preventing her from reaching out. Maybe it was because she had only known you for a couple of weeks but felt like you’d always been there, like a puzzle finally piecing together.

And every time, right before you left, after you had said goodbye to the Reeds, you’d find her somehow. “Bye,” would be all you said with an adoring smile, but Vada would be thinking about it until the next day.

She and Mia met up with the group again one night, this time at a nearby open-air disco. When she arrived, she could spot Sasha and Marlène already twirling each other around on the dance floor, she was laughing as he spun her around, cigarette between his lips. She felt a pang of envy, imagining that it was your arms around her waist instead as you spun her around without a care in the world, in front of everyone. Let them see. Let them see that you’re mine and I’m yours. If she were being honest, she only agreed to come just so she could see you again. She found you sitting at a table with Coco and Noémie, chatting away.

“Hi.” Her attention was focused on you. She couldn’t be more sober, and she wished she had taken a few puffs before coming.

As if having read her mind, Coco pulled out a couple of joints, lighting one and taking a puff himself before passing it to Noémie.

“You partake?” You shouted over the loud music.

“Oh, she partakes.” Mia nodded enthusiastically. “The first time she did weed she smoked most of my joint. Then proceeded to blabber on nonstop for two hours.”

You let out a laugh. “I like this one!”

She hated, despised even, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to be near you, to impress you, to feel special in your eyes as you were in hers. It was human nature; everyone liked feeling special, but somehow getting validation from you would make her ten times happier. She sat two seats away from you—next to Mia and Noémie—and once in a while, she would try and dart her eyes over to look at you ever so subtly. On a couple of occasions, her heart would jump when she noticed you were already looking back.

A few minutes later, Vada started to feel the effect of the weed, and Mia must have too because she pulled her toward the dance floor. Looking back, she saw you talking to Noémie. You didn’t look too happy and neither did she, having her arms crossed in front of her chest. Then, she walked outside and you followed her impatiently. When you returned, a polite smile was on your face when you noticed her looking for you.

“Are you okay?” She shouted, the weed had made her feel bold.

“Yeah! Everything’s fine.” You shouted back.

It might have been the weed or it was something that’s already been there, but Vada couldn’t take her eyes off of you. She took you by the hand, and there was that same spark of electricity again. You let her guide you, your hands never leaving hers as you moved with her.

It was about a quarter to midnight when everyone decided to split because frankly, everyone was too tired to continue. Vada said goodbye to Sasha and Marlène, the latter of whom gave her a big hug and repeatedly expressed her delight that Vada had decided to join them. Coco, already sober, offered to drive Mia home, but his ride was a scooter.

“Sorry, les gars,” Coco smiled sheepishly and asked Mia if she was ready, to which the girl only nodded.

“I’ll walk you home.” You said quietly, surprisingly timid. “Promise me you won’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

She huffed through her nose and gave you a shove, but she was grinning. It was just the two of you now. Her pride was on the line, and so was her heart.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Your voice cut through the stillness of the night. Before that, the only sounds were that of your shoes brushing against the ground and the soft sighs of the ocean.

“Is everything okay with Noémie?”

You averted your eyes, your hand coming up to play with the hummingbird on your neck.

Maybe she shouldn’t have. “Shit, did I overstep?”

“No, no. It’s fine. It’s just Noë being Noë, she was out of line.” Your walls were up. “We were always close, she was the first friend I made here. And last summer we slept together.”

“Oh.” Her steps faltered.

“I stopped it before it could progress into anything beyond that, though. I’m just not ready.”

Vada nodded slowly. Loud and clear. Maybe that was the signal she needed, the insecure part of her thought it was that, but when she was with you, all she wanted to do was listen to the other part.

“I slept with Mia once, sophomore year.”

You looked over at her, seemingly surprised. “Mia? Huh. Never would have thought.”

“It was just that, though.” She flashed you a smile.

Vada felt that surge of closeness between you, your arm swinging beside her as you walked. The obsession with finding anything to relate to you prompted her to say it, like Hey, I’m like you, I know how you feel. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to tell you, she might have screwed up.

You mirrored her smile, but something about it told her that your heart wasn’t entirely in it. Tell me what you’re thinking, Y/N. She wanted to get inside your head and know everything you were thinking, to go all the way with that closeness. Even as friends, one has to start from somewhere.

It was radio silence from you for the next few days. Vada came up with all the excuses as to what it could have been, and when she grew tired and angry at herself for thinking so much about you, she tried to distract herself by doing other things. She helped Philip collect figs from the trees in the backyard; she looked up the fortress nearby you told her about the day you met and biked all the way over there, even though it was a half an hour's ride each way; she finally took out the book she packed with her and began reading it whilst sunbathing. It was starting to feel like a summer that she should be enjoying.

Her mom called and was happy to hear that her daughter was going outside and doing fun things. “The people are nice,” Vada would say, “I met some of Mia’s friends.” And in true Mom fashion, her mom would quickly squeeze in a “Don’t do drugs and use protection” to which she ended the call and almost threw her phone across the room.

She would also call Nick every other day. I met someone, she said one day after having finally gathered the courage to vocalize her crush. Girl, I know. Mia had told him. When? Literally the second day. She said you were so obvious.

It was as if the weather knew too. It started raining all day when she decided to go to the beach one day, souring her mood entirely. She would sit by the entrance in the backyard watching the rain, and sure enough, she was thinking about what you were doing on the opposite end of town.

“It’s unlike you to be so hung up on someone,” Mia told her when they were hanging out in Mia’s room.

“I’m not hung up on someone,” her words trailed at the end, mindlessly flipping through the magazine in front of her.

“So am I just crazy for thinking that you want to pounce on Y/N every three seconds?”

“Okay, but what about you and Coco? He follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy.”

“Coco’s just shy,” her friend blushed. “And stop changing the subject.”

“There’s nothing between us, at least not yet.”

“So you do want something to happen.”

“Shut up! Mia!” She hid her face behind her hands and writhed on Mia’s bed in embarrassment. “I’m not talking to you about this anymore.”

“Alright, alright,” Mia held her hands up as her laughter subsided.

“Look, I just want to—” Vada took a moment. “I want to test the waters, okay? Y/N is special, and I don’t want to ruin anything.”

Mia nodded, understanding. “I just don’t want you to be misled. I mean, you’ve seen how it was with Noémie.”

“I know.” Vada smiled softly. “I know what I’m getting into. Zero expectations.”

She wanted to believe what she told Mia too, but then when she saw texts from you the next day, there was no hiding that a connection was what she so tirelessly wanted, and needed.

hey it’s y/n Sent 3:23pm

mia gave me your number, i hope you don’t mind Sent 3:23pm

call me when you see this? Sent 3:24pm

Damn you, Mia, but also, thank you.

She didn’t work up enough courage to call you until later that night. Of course, it could have been something dire, but then you would have called her first, right? I am such a wimp.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” she rubbed her hands against her shorts. “it’s Vada. You wanted me to call you?”

“Yeah. I was gonna just text you, but I don’t know . . .” You hesitated for a moment. “Anyway, you ever been to Antibes?”

“No, why?”

“Well, I’m going there on Friday for my apprenticeship, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with? I’m just giving some manuscripts to my mentor, and then leaving them with him for a few hours to review, so we can make a fun day out of it. It’s a one-hour drive, so I don’t plan on staying overnight.”

“Friday you said?” Vada took a deep breath to still her racing heart. “I don’t think I got anything better to do that day.”

“Great!” You said. “I’ll pick you up at 9am?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Cool, see you then!”

There was something frightening about when things go exactly how you wanted them. It was inch-perfect, the puzzle pieces just slotted in place as if they were always fated to be. You were the first to reach out; she thought it would be easier that way, she’d just have to take your hand and come along. But there was a certain apprehension that Vada had as if she was walking straight into the lion’s den like a deer blinded by hunger. What if she loses her heart? She was aware of the dangers of heartbreak, of course—she was no fool—but the thought of giving her heart to you, then watching you walk away with it like an unwanted gift was too devastating.

Mia was practically bouncing off the walls when Vada told her about the phone call, saying that in all seven years of knowing you, she had never been special enough to receive a call. She didn’t exactly say the latter part, but she all but implied it.

On Friday morning, Vada woke up earlier than usual, made herself some breakfast, and was already waiting at the door with a backpack by 8:45. No later than 9:05, you arrived with a Volkswagen Golf, sunglasses on, and a bright smile.

“Music?” You offered, turning on Bluetooth. “Also, if you need a pee break, please tell me. Bladders can be untimely.”

“Noted,” Vada giggled.

The car ride was mostly silent, aside from the music you let her pick and the fun facts you enlightened her with about some of the landmarks you drive past.

“That one I believe was built in the later 1600s and owned by a minor Provence viscount. It was also in a strategic location for the military until it was abandoned after the French Revolution. Also, the viscount built the castle for his second wife, but she died shortly after giving birth to their child.”

“That’s a little sad,” said Vada.

“She was also 14 when she died and he was in his 50s.”

Vada grimaced. “Maybe death was a sweet relief.”

“Yeah. It was more common back in the day than you think.”

“How do you know all this?” She brought her legs up against her chest.

“I like history. I like to learn about the areas I’m in, and in the time that I’ve been here, I’ve had a lot of opportunities to learn.”

She watched your side profile for a moment. “You mentioned some manuscripts. What is it for?”

“Is this an interview now?” You laughed and glanced over at her, and she looked down with a blush. “It’s for my bachelor’s thesis. Technically I don’t start writing until next year, but I like to practice whenever I can. This one that I’m giving to my mentor is a collection of essays.”

“Can I read them?” You looked over for a moment, then reached behind you to grab a file of paper and handed it to her.

Vada settled back and opened the first pages, and read in silence. She could feel you spare short glances at her from time to time, nervously watching for her reaction, but she was so engrossed in your writing it almost didn’t matter that you were sitting next to her. This might have been what it feels like to peer into someone’s soul, to see the traces of fresh blood as they lay their heart onto paper.

It was a beautiful sunny day, the waters shone a deep turquoise, and the French Riviera looked glorious as ever. And yet, she could only get lost in your words.

“This is beautiful,” Vada breathed, setting the papers down on her lap. “You’re amazing.”

You looked ahead at the road, eyes covered by shades, but your large grin was unmissable.

You parked the car on the side of the street in front of several apartment buildings. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” Vada only nodded and watched you cross the street with the manuscripts in your hand. She liked how it felt between you two, and she would gladly accompany you on every trip until you were sick of her.

Mere minutes later, you returned. “I hope you’re ready for the best adventure of your life.”

Only, she knew it would be.

You first led her to the market in the vieille ville, where you bought some fruits and snacks for the way. Vada also got to witness firsthand your bargaining skills, asking for a price and then pretending to walk away until the vendor becomes desperate enough to settle. “I used to be really bad at this, but then I watched my mom do it, and now I kind of just do. These vendors hike up their prices for tourists like crazy.” You walked away proudly with a bag of food.

As the both of you walked through the picturesque alleys and streets, you proceeded to tell her more about the city and its history. She listened carefully, hanging onto every word that left your lips. You told her about how Antibes was first named Antipolis and part of Ancient Greece before it was built by the Romans in the time of Julius Caesar; how in the Middle Ages the city fell under the fiefdom of the Grimaldi family, the main branch of which is now royalty of Monaco.

“Sorry, you gotta stop me before I go on a tangent,” you chuckled, scratching the back of your neck. “I’ve been talking for ages.”

“No, I like it.” She said quickly. “I like listening to you talk. It’s no surprise many artists were so taken with this place.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Hemingway, Picasso, and Monet all had a fascination with this city.” She had to look that up, but you didn’t need to know that.

“That’s right,” you nodded. “In fact, I’ll show you the spot where Monet painted one of his paintings later.”

After lunch, you both walked along the city walls that looked out to the beach.

“I’m just saying, Ratatouille piqued a lot of interest in the dish, and it wasn’t a coincidence. I mean, I’ve never tried it but I’d love to, just because it looked so good in the movie.” Vada said.

“You’ve never had ratatouille?!” You exclaimed loudly making Vada laugh. “Man, it’s a staple here in southern France! I’ll have to make you some because that is just criminal.”

“Okay, Chef Remy. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Actually, I’ll make a whole batch for you and the Reeds too. They always give me fruits from their backyard,” you said. “How did you meet Mia anyway?”

At the question, Vada’s smile collapsed into a frown. “Um . . .” You watched her, a confused look on your face. “I’ve always known who she was. I mean, it’s Mia, you know? But one day we met officially in the bathroom at school.”

“Oh,” you voiced. You must be confused as to why that was so hard to squeeze out, but the latter part, the part she kept hidden, she had been trying to squeeze out for two years.

“We were in the bathroom while there was a shooting going on.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but you only ended up watching her. Then, a moment later, “I didn’t mean to . . .”

“No, it’s fine.” Vada shook her head. “You didn’t know.”

“I’m so sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything else if you don’t want to.” Your eyes softened and you looked like you had kicked a puppy.

“I know,” she said, taking a breath.

“I see it on the news all the time, but I can’t imagine what it’s like to be there,” you said quietly. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

Vada hated having to talk about it. If she could have it her way, she would bury it deep down so it never sees the light of day again. Still, she has to talk about it to her friends, her family, her therapist sometimes. She hated talking about it because she’d have to see the way people’s faces contort uncomfortably as they scramble to find consoling words to say. They don’t make her feel any better, and she never liked people seeing that broken side of her reflected back at them.

But when she looked at you right now, there wasn’t a trace of ego in the way that you look back at her. Deep down, she had always wanted to lay it on you, to give you a piece of her, not because she had to, but because she wanted to.

Because she wanted you to see it.

Vada found your hand by your side, soft and comforting. She kept her eyes on them; her hand and your hand, intertwined together. You embraced it and rubbed the back of her hand with your thumb before kissing it. A kiss of friendship, a kiss of love, a kiss of two young people in a city far from home together who had only just met. A kiss that said I see you, I hear you, you’ve got me around your corner.

“You wanna go grab some dinner?” She asked.

Dinner turned into even more talk. Towards late afternoon, you said you wanted to catch the sunset before going to the spot you claimed Monet painted the city. It was a quick drive, but you pumped your fists in the air when you got out of the car and were happy with how the sun rolled over the city just right.

“Come on, you’re gonna miss it!” You jogged towards the edge of the water, beaming like a little kid. It had become natural between the two of you to share skin-ship.

Behind the trees, there it was. Across the blue water, Antibes basked in the last few rays of sunlight in stoic tranquility, just as Monet had seen it. Perhaps she was in one of Monet’s paintings, frozen in time, stuck with you.

She found your hand again, your left this time, and once again your gaze followed, but this time, you trailed your gaze to her eyes. God help me, she thought.

There were so many things Vada wanted to blurt out, and she was close to it. Holding back was never her strong suit, but once she got a good look at the depth of your eyes, she felt that they were better appreciated in silence. Words don’t do anything but snitch on you anyway.

She didn’t need to, because the moment she turned to look at you, she felt you grab her face gently and lay the softest kiss on her lips.

The sun continued to glare, yet Antibes stared on.

Did Monet ever paint lovers?

Liar.

Liar.

Vada felt like she’d make a mistake for giving in to it. She saw her younger self in the square that day, by the fountain, eating ice cream. She saw you talking to her, and she wanted to scream and tell herself to stop, to save herself the heartache. No one else was to blame, not even you, only her.

Antibes was a week ago, and she hasn’t really spoken to you ever since. She replayed the kiss over and over in her head, trying to pinpoint exactly the moment when you decided that keeping your distance would be the best course of action.

But then she remembered the way you acted alone with her was much different than how you were with the others around. She saw the way your eyes linger on her when you thought she was admiring the sea. She noticed the way you smiled bashfully when she brought up how good your essays were in front of your mentor. She remembered how you never let go of her hand when she grabbed it while you watched the sunset.

Marlène and Sasha had been a big help in getting her out of her slump. Mia was there to cuddle with her the first couple of nights after Vada told her everything, but rendezvous with Coco had kept her busy. But Marlène and Sasha were cool, and probably one of the healthiest couples she’s ever seen at the age of 20. She felt like their adoptive child hanging out with them, especially when Sasha would greet her by endearingly calling her Petit Vada.

“And have you talked to her?” Marlène asked, leaning over the lounge chair. She and Vada had been sunbathing and swimming at the Reed villa that afternoon.

“No.” Vada sighed. “It’s just—I just don’t get it! Why does she have to be so mysterious all the time? Like one moment we would be fine, and the next she’s somewhere else, someone else entirely.”

“That’s Y/N,” Marlène chuckled and took a sip from her margarita. “You know, when I and Sash first got together, he wasn’t as talkative as he is now. In fact, I was the one to ask him out. Sometimes you just have to suck it up and tell them.”

“That’s so easy to say,” Vada muttered, and put her face in her hands.

“That’s the kind of attitude you should save for when you go back to your other life, your American life. Are you going to university this fall? Summer’s halfway over, you know? Are you going to mull over it and let it pass by you?”

“Yes.” Vada’s voice was muffled through her hands.

“Carpe diem, mon chère.” Marlène shrugged. “It’s cheesy but it’s true.”

Andre being the ever BBQ dad that he was, decided to host a get-together with some friends that night, and encouraged Mia to invite hers. Everyone that Vada met at the beach showed up, including Noémie, except for you.

“She said she was busy,” Noémie waved it off. Vada pursed her lips. The fact that you talked to Noémie first stirred uneasy envy in the pit of her stomach.

She didn’t have the stomach to sit outside and spoil everyone’s fun with her sour face (most of all she didn’t want to give Noémie that satisfaction), so she made a plate for herself and ate in the living room.

“Hey, kiddo,” she looked up and saw Philip walk past her toward the kitchen. “Not feeling the party?”

Vada made a face to indicate a yes, but she didn’t want to explain further. “Just not really in the mood, sorry.”

“It’s okay. You can’t stop Andre from barbecuing when he has the urge or he’d literally combust.”

She nodded and smiled. “We don’t want that.”

“We’re serving fruits now. Want me to get you some?” He pointed at her empty plate.

“Yes, please. Thanks.” She hesitated for a beat. “Hey, Philip?”

The man turned around.

“How did you know that you wanted to marry Andre?”

Philip contemplated for a second, then walked over to the couch where she sat, leaning against it. “I didn’t wake up one day and choose to propose to him, Vada. It’s just one of those things when you start to notice that gnawing feeling in your chest. And you’d have to ask yourself, ‘Would I be fine going the rest of my life without them?’”

Vada nodded slowly and smiled as the man went back to the kitchen. She opened her phone and went to your messages. The last text from you was from a week ago. She began typing.

can we talk? Sent 8:47pm

A mere five minutes later, you responded.

of course Sent 8:47pm

meet me at the fountain at 10? Sent 8:48pm

see u there Sent 8:48pm

Vada found you walking back and forth by the Fountain, one hand in deep your pants pocket, the other holding a cigarette between your thumb and index, and puffing it as if it would give you a lifeline. She got off her bike and set it by the railing of the Fountain where you stood.

“You smoke?”

“Not usually,” you attempted to smile, shaking your arms as if to shake off an invisible burden. You were anxious, it was clear.

Vada didn’t know what to say next, so she leaned against the railing of the Fountain, rolling a pebble back and forth underneath her shoe.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you earlier. I was busy.”

She nodded half-heartedly, not looking up. She wished you’d come up with a better excuse than that.

“Are you angry with me?”

“Angry’s a strong word, Y/N.”

Another puff. “Are you discontent with me?”

She should have prepared herself for the nit-picky bullshit from a writer. “I don’t have a valid reason to be upset with you, not really. Unless I’ve been reading this wrong.”

“You haven’t.” You answered quickly and met her eyes. “I promise. It wasn’t very mature of me. In fact, I think I acted like a total idiot. I’m really sorry.”

“Do you regret kissing me?”

“No, not at all. And you have to believe me.” You sighed exasperatedly, and she almost felt bad because you looked so anxious.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Vada stepped towards you, facing you head-on. “You’re asking me whether I’m upset with you, but I don’t even know what you’re thinking most of the time. And then you disappear as though I did something wrong! How fair is that?”

You nodded and took another drag from your cigarette. Then, you dropped the butt on the floor and stomped on it. “I’m thinking that I really want to kiss you right now.”

Vada scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”

You stood up from your spot against the railing, your face now inches from hers. “It’s true.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is.”

She felt the exact moment her body became as light as a feather as your lips pressed against hers. Her hands clenched by her side, and come up to hold onto your shoulders, because she was afraid her legs might give out under her. You angled your face and deepened the kiss, and Vada sighed into your mouth. This is what the poets all wrote about, the inevitability of giving in to what you’ve wanted for so long. She’s caged in you in between her body and the Fountain, kissing you and touching you as though her life depended on it.

You moved to lower your kisses to her neck, but she leaned back and saw a dark look in your eyes.

The sound of a street musician playing the saxophone in the distance somewhere echoed through the square. Wordlessly, Vada took your hand.

She followed you by bike towards your house, which was towards the end of the street closer to the beach. You returned to speaking only one or two words to her, telling her to put her bike by the door next to yours, to take her shoes off before coming in, and whether she wanted some water.

“Nice place.” It was another thing that she never thought to ask you about, nor did you tell her. But it wasn’t a surprise that your family was loaded too, considering the vacation home in an area like this.

“Thanks. It’s my parents’, though.”

“What do they do again?”

“Well, my mom does interior design and my dad is a football agent.”

“Football agent? Who does he represent?”

“Mostly American players in Europe; Christian Pulisic, Luca de la Torre, Gio Reyna. I remember my dad bringing me along to dinner with Sergio Agüero once because he considered a move to LAFC. That was pretty cool.” You stood against the wall in the hallway, next to the staircase, kicking your feet aimlessly. The small talk was to cover up for something else.

You fell into a deep silence. Vada took a step forward under the yellow light of the hallway and took your hand, stroking it gently.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked quietly.

You and she both knew you were way past just kissing. This was new territory, and there would be no going back after this.

You nodded, and she surged forwards to kiss you slowly. This time, it felt different. You kissed her without the chastity and fear of being looked in on but without the hunger of overcoming lust. It was a perfect blend of passion and appreciation, a marriage of everything felt within the past few weeks.

You lead her upstairs, towards your room. Once inside, your lips were still glued to hers as you let her walk backward, though your eagerness made her trip on your feet and fall onto the mattress.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. ‘M sorry.” The two of you burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to make it up to her with a shower of kisses.

As her giggles quickly turned into pleasant sighs, she decided to surrender herself to you, to her deepest desires ever since the day she arrived. You had charmed her from the moment she laid eyes on you. But now to feel your hands on her in all the right places took her to new heights of pleasure that she’s never experienced before. How beautiful it was to be herself, to be here in this moment, and to cherish and be cherished by you. But most of all, to hear you whisper her name and profanities in the most sinful and vulnerable ways, so unlike your polished and composed self in front of other people.

Vada, Vada, Vada . . .

She awoke in the morning, the sun piercing through the horizontal slits of the shut windows. There was sweat sticking to her skin, but she didn’t want to get up and shower, not when you were still soundly asleep, arm loosely wrapped around her torso. It was then that she realized that you both were still very naked, but she reveled in the skin-to-skin contact like it was giving her strength and vitality. The golden hummingbird sat on your chest, rising and falling with each of your breaths.

Vada caught the moment your eyes fluttered open and focused on her. Then a smile.

“What time is it?” You asked.

Vada leaned over to check the clock on the wall. “7:41.”

You grumbled. “My shift starts at 8:30.”

“You better chop-chop then.”

“I don’t wanna go.”

“Then don’t.” Vada placed her chin on your upper chest. “Stay here with me, and we can recreate last night.”

You chuckled and kissed her once. “That sounds really tempting.”

And yet, you moved to get up, but she held you back. “Five more minutes.”

“Only five?” You smirked.

“You don’t think I can do it in five?”

You grinned like a Cheshire cat and settled back.

Vada had to let you go eventually, you let her stay at yours and do as she pleased. She suddenly remembered that she never texted Mia back about staying out overnight, and sure enough, flipped her phone over to a few missed calls and text messages. After texting her back and reassuring her that she was okay, she got up and went to take a shower.

You came back around four and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, it felt like forever until you walked through the doors again. And the moment you did, she pounced on you like a lion.

“I’m so sweaty,” you laughed but soon became lost in the sensation of her lips against yours.

You made love again that afternoon. Vada could almost picture the routine that she and you so easily fell into, how the puzzle pieces fit together so seamlessly. It almost felt like she had cheated somehow to feel this way, that it truly felt as magical and wonderful as it was laying in your arms, both of you stark naked. You had showered and smelled much like lavender. Your eyes were closed but you weren’t asleep, as she watched your chest rise and fall steadily. Sometimes you would murmur something and she would talk to you quietly, knowing you were tired from a day’s work at the beach.

“I knew I liked you from the first day, at the Fountain,” you said.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?!” Vada looked up and hit your chest playfully.

“I didn’t want to come on too strong and scare you away!”

“Jesus Christ,” she sat up and put her face in her palms. “Y/N, I wanted you so badly. Like, I could not go a day without thinking about you. It was actually becoming unhealthy how much I did.”

“Oh? I’m flattered.” You smirked and rubbed her knee. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because . . . After Antibes, I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way.”

Your face dropped slightly. “I was scared to get close to someone. I think I caught myself then after we kissed. It was scary how much I wanted your company.”

Vada could understand. You’ve only known each other for three weeks. What were you to each other? Maybe it didn’t matter, there was something comforting about just existing as two souls being present with each other. She realized that the fear she’d harbored about losing her heart was all in vain; you never took it for yourself, you’d only pressed your hand against her chest and encouraged it to keep beating—to keep being hers—while you’d hoped that she would do the same to you.

“If you could go back to that day at the Fountain, and do it differently, would you?” Vada asked.

You thought for a second, then shook your head. “No. I always want to remember you this way.”

Vada swallowed thickly and avoided your eyes. “We’re leaving next week.”

A silence hung in the air, unspoken words stuck in her throat. Tell me to stay. Tell me you’ll come back with me. Tell me you’ll never love anyone else. Tell me you’d forget about me so as to soothe the pain.

“Then let’s make it count,” you brushed a hair from her eyes. “We’re not the first, and we won’t be the last to love each other.”

She dreaded the flight back home, having to pretend leaving you wouldn’t be as hard in front of Mia and her parents, and about 300 strangers. She’d miss biking everywhere and the beach and Lillian’s ice cream (she had grown to like it over Karim’s). She’d remember Antibes and Monet’s spot. She’d remember your face and how you seemed to appear in every memory of this trip.

Vada felt you brushing your finger under her eye and realized that it was wet. Then you brought her into your arms and held her tight as she hid from the world in your neck. You cooed and somehow it made Vada feel worse and started crying harder, clinging to your skin desperately.

She’d find space for the grief she was going to feel in her heart somewhere because she knew she’d rather live with the pain than be without you again.

The last week started on a Wednesday. Vada did the usual things she did the last few weeks—go to the beach, bike to town, hang out with the group; she wanted to soak into that last semblance of her summer routine before she had to leave, and everything would be different. She hadn’t given college much thought either. Deciding to move halfway across the country for it was the least stressful part of the whole process, as she was going in undecided. Mia was happy though, because they would only be a few hours apart by train.

Until then, Vada was too afraid to ask you about what would happen after the summer ended. If she asked, it would mean that it was close and it was real. You’d go back to school in Paris and start on your thesis, and everything would go back to the way it was.

Everything would go back to the way it was. As if nothing happened.

She had lived four weeks with you, how was she ever going to go the rest of her life without you?

She met up with you after dinner one night at the beach. The tides had come in much closer and were pulling on her heartstrings mercilessly. In and out, in and out . . . You were as quiet as the night, your eyes gazed towards the distance somewhere, looking pensive.

Still, she was afraid to ask.

“I lied,” you finally spoke. “I wished I had told you sooner how much I liked you.”

Vada remained silent and nodded. “We’ll call.”

“It won’t be the same.”

She knew too that it would never be the same the moment she leaves France. She realized that though she was afraid to ask, time was not on her side, and she didn’t have the luxury to be afraid anymore.

“Will you stay over tonight?” Vada asked, and you looked so happy that she did.

Once you stumbled through the door, you leaned in to kiss her instantly. Between wanting to kiss you back and suppressing moans, she told you to be quiet as you followed her upstairs, hand in hand. You failed, however, actually, both of you did, as your giggles trailed up the stairs and through the hallway. Vada would be lucky if only Mia heard you.

The day she left for the airport, you came over to say goodbye. You greeted the Reeds first, giving Philip and Andre big hugs, then turned to Mia to hug as well and kiss her on the forehead.

Vada waited in the backyard. She felt almost pathetic and needy for wanting you to come out here quicker. It won’t be the same.

“Andre gave me this to keep for my parents.”You held up a bottle of wine by the neck. “1983, nice.”

Your smile died down when you noticed her silence. “You got everything?”

She nodded. Wordlessly, she stepped forwards to wrap her arms around your frame. She thought she’d cry, but it was as if her brain was already actively shutting down trying to block out this memory to save her the future heartbreak.

You pressed her tightly against your chest and swayed her back and forth. Upon releasing her, you set down the bottle of wine next to your feet and took off your necklace.

“I want you to have this.” You opened her palm and neatly placed the jewelry inside. “That way, you won’t forget.”

How could you ever think that I would forget when I’m afraid I’ll never be able to let go of this summer?

“I wish we had more time,” Vada said.

“Bye, Cinderella.” Your eyes were glossy now.

The car door was wide open, waiting to take her away from you. For a split second, she considered dropping everything to stay.

She leaned in to kiss you once, deep and hard, “Bye, Y/N.” Then she walked away, the hummingbird clenched in her fist.

You followed her and watched her get in the car. You watched her close it with force and you watched her refuse to make eye contact with you, but you saw the way her lips trembled. You watched the car take her away from you and grazed the spot on your chest where the hummingbird was missing.

It was mid-July, the hottest day of the year, and yet, the ocean waves—blue as it gets—continued to crash against the shore, on and on and on.

[bingwriterxo]

distant

pairing: vada cavell x reader

summary: in which you weren't at school during the shooting but your girlfriend was, and the trauma that it left her with caused her to practically disappear from your life

warnings: talks of school shooting

word count: 1800+

author's note: the very first vada fic i ever wrote (posted to my wattpad back in december) but someone requested something similar (find here) so i thought i'd throw this up here

"Hi, Mrs. Cavell," you said timidly as the woman opened the front door to her home. Her eyes widened at the sight of you--messy hair, dark eye bags, heavy eyelids--as she welcomed you inside. You were no stranger to her: she knew that you and Vada had been dating for nearly a year now. However, this version of you was one that she had never seen before, and she had seen many versions of you over the course of your relationship with her daughter. 

"Y/N, are you okay?" she asked as you took your sneakers off by the door, unlacing them so slowly that she almost thought you had fallen asleep where you stood. 

"Is Vada home?" There was almost no emotion in your voice. You just sounded...tired. The woman had become used to your high-energy personality, never surprised when you were running around with Amelia or making Vada dance with you in her bedroom. She couldn't help but hope that you were alright.

"She's at Nick's right now, but you're more than welcome to wait in her room, if you'd like." She checked the clock on the wall. "She shouldn't be gone for too much longer." You nodded, accepting the woman's suggestion and heading towards Vada's bedroom. "If you need anything, just let me know," Mrs. Cavell called out after you. You gave her a thumbs up before disappearing inside.

You gratefully laid down on Vada's bed, inhaling the girl's scent that lingered on her blankets. You hadn't seen her in a while--over two weeks and counting--and you missed her, so being in her bed felt as though she were enveloping you in a hug, though you did wish you had the real thing. 

You opened your phone, shooting your girlfriend a text to let her know that you were at her house, before going on TikTok, trying to pass the time. None of the short videos seemed to entertain you, though, so you resolved to just take a short nap. However, a single text erased this thought from your mind completely. 

Nick Feinstein (5:46pm): do yk where vadas at? havent heard from her in a while

You shot up, eyebrows furrowing at the question. Didn't Mrs. Cavell just say that the brunette was at Nick's house?

You (5:46pm): her mom said she was at urs???

Confusion and fear swirled in your stomach as you went to your girlfriend's contact, pressing the call button. You listened as the phone rang, anxiety beginning to creep through your veins. "C'mon, Vada. Pick up, pick up." However, the girl didn't answer her phone, leaving you with her voicemail message. "Uh, hey, Vads. Just wondering where you are...your mom said you were at Nick's, but he just texted me asking me where you're at. Uh, call me back when you can? I love you." You hung up the call, hoping that she would return your call soon. 

Nick Feinstein (5:47pm): nope

Nick Feinstein (5:47pm): havent seen her in a few weeks

You (5:50pm): just called her

You (5:50pm): every time i've asked her to hang out the past two weeks she always said she had plans with you...

Anxiety settled in your stomach at the idea that your girlfriend had been lying to you. Who was she really hanging out with? Why did she not want to see you? What was happening?

Nick Feinstein (5:52pm): think she's been hanging w that girl recently

Nick Feinstein (5:52pm): mia reed

Could Vada be cheating on you? You pushed that thought aside, hoping for a different outcome, but it continued to nag at your brain. Had she grown tired of your relationship? Had she grown tired of you?

Nick Feinstein (5:53pm): instagram.com/miareed/  here's her acct

You clicked on the link, ignoring the fact that your hand was shaking, and the girl's instagram account popped up. The most recent photo immediately made you nauseous and you dropped your phone, scurrying backwards on the bed as though the object had burned you. 

liked by vada_cav, nickfein.stein, and 1,246 others

miareed love her fr

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vada_cav love u fr

↪︎miareed <3

hasland_quinton yw for the pic

↪︎miareed much love

↪︎vada_cav grateful

Even if Vada wasn't cheating on you with Mia Reed, their relationship was a bit too close for comfort for you. They were almost kissing in the photo, and while her caption could have been platonic, it sure didn't give you 'just friends' energy. 

A ding brought you out of your thoughts and you crawled to the edge of the bed, looking at your phone. There was a message from Vada, so you hurried to pick up the device, unlocking it to see what your girlfriend had to say.

Vads <3 (6:01pm): wont be home till late

Vads <3 (6:01pm): dont stay

The message felt like a stab through the heart. She must have been with Mia, and you couldn't help but imagine what they were doing: were they on a date? were they making out? were they doing something worse? Tears stung at your eyes as you turned your phone off. However, instead of listening to your girlfriend--was she still your girlfriend?--you buried yourself into her bed. You needed to confront her when she got home. If you didn't, you weren't sure when you'd get the chance to talk to her again. 

* * *

The covers were forcefully ripped off of you and you sprang awake, eyes squinting beneath the harsh overhead light. Vada stood in front of you, blanket in hand, eyebrows furrowed, nose flared. 

"What are you still doing here?" she asked. You flinched at her tone, sitting up so that you could really look at her. She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for a response.

"I..." Was this a bad idea? Would this be the end of your relationship? "We need to talk." She didn't say anything, just merely gestured for you to keep talking. "Are you cheating on me?"

"What?" She looked offended, as though she couldn't understand why you would ask such a thing. You watched as she took a step forward, arms reaching towards you, before taking a step back: she couldn't figure out what to do. "No! I'm not cheating on you, Jesus!" She took the defensive route, and you couldn't say you were surprised. 

"I saw Mia's post," you began. Her jaw clenched, an action that you would usually find attractive instead caused more anxiety to race through your bloodstream. "It didn't seem...it just...it looked wrong." 

She shook her head, scoffed, brought a hand to her forehead. "Jesus fucking christ! Mia's just a fucking friend. What, I can't have friends now?" she yelled. You stood up from her bed, unable to stop the tears that had begun to fall from your eyes. 

"Of course you can! But you've been lying to me about where you've been and then suddenly you're hanging out with one of the most popular girls in school! If you had nothing to hide, you wouldn't have lied to me! Or Nick! Or your fucking parents, Vada." Your voice cracked as you spoke, spit flying from your mouth in anger. Your girlfriend stayed silent, just staring at you. "You know what? Forget it. You clearly don't want to talk about this."

"Thank you!" She fell face first onto her bed, signaling that she was done talking to you in general. Awkward silence encased the room as thoughts circled your mind, with one becoming too prominent for your liking.

"We should break up," you whispered into the empty air. This got the girl's attention. She pushed herself off the bed, turning towards you, and you finally saw some resemblance to the Vada that you knew.

"What are you talking about?" Her voice was small, afraid that you had actually meant the words that just left your mouth. She didn't want to lose you, didn't know she could lose you. She thought you two were solid, that nothing could change that.

"I haven't seen you in over two weeks, you've been lying to me, you didn't even want to see me today." You listed your grievances quietly. You didn't want to break up with the brunette, but hearing everything you were saying, you understood that you might have to if she didn't offer an explanation. "Do you still want this?" You gestured between the two of you. 

"Of course I do. I love you, Y/N." You could hear the truth in her voice, but that wasn't enough for you to just forget about everything that had happened recently. You weren't going to forgive her just because she loved you.

"Then I need an explanation." Vada glanced down towards your feet, her hair forming a curtain around her face. You reached out, a single finger beneath her chin as you forced her to look at you. "Please, Vada."

She nodded, gesturing towards her bed. You took a seat, sitting cross-legged as she sat across from you in the same way. Vada took a deep breath, preparing herself to tell you what she had been keeping hidden. "When the shooting at school happened, Mia and I hid in a bathroom stall together." Just saying the words made her think of that horrible day, but she continued, for you. "I thought--I thought that I was going to die in there with her.

"She ended up texting me a day or two after it happened. She wanted to make sure that I was okay, so we started hanging out. Honestly, she has no one there for her: her dads are away a lot and she doesn't really have friends, and I felt for her. I knew I wouldn't have wanted to be alone after this, and I wanted her to know that she had someone in her corner. And it was nice, being able to talk to her about it, to tell her about how afraid I was to go back to school, to tell her how I was afraid to do most things.

"I--I should've told you that I was hanging out with her, I know. That's not something I should have hid from you. It's just...I felt like I couldn't talk to you about how the shooting affected me because...well, you weren't there. I didn't know if you'd understand, and I didn't want to give you these feelings."

"Vada..." You reached out for her, pulling her into a hug. Her tears, which had begun midway through her explanation, soaked your t-shirt, but you didn't care. You just wanted to be there for the girl. "You can talk to me about anything anytime you want, alright?" She nodded into your shoulder before pulling away.

"And I'm sorry I've been so...mean...recently. I just have a lot of feelings that I'm working through right now, and I took them out on the people close to me, and I'm sorry," she apologized. 

You nodded, smiling softly. "It's going to be okay, Vads. I promise."

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, too, Vads." You pulled her in for another hug, rubbing her back softly as she wrapped her arms around you, more than grateful that you were there at that moment.

[our-neighbours-cat-is-a-menace]

Pretty boi

summary: in which, you're asked who you thought was the prettiest boy and not even a second later you respond with his name. unknowingly leaving him a flustered mess.

Starring: Diavolo and Leviathan

Diavolo

"so who do you think is the prettiest boy in RAD?" asmo asked teasingly, quite hoping it's gonna be him

"the founder" you firmly said as if it was a fact

"what?" asmo raising a brow

"what?" you doing the same thing

"you're being biased, you know" asmo pouted

"biased how" you chuckled

"you say he's pretty just because you have a total crush on him" asmo reasoned

"haha no, he is pretty, regardless of my affections for him" you stated

While bickering back and forth with asmo, both of you failed to realize you're chatting in the balcony at the castle of the person in question

Lord Diavolo and Barbatos seems hesistant to open the door leading to the balcony as it would be quite embarrassing to enter

"shall i open it now my lord?" barbatos inquired, hands still on the doorknob for the past 5 minutes

"not yet"

"how about now?" - barbatos asked again after a minute or so

"no, not yet" Dia answered

"My lord, if were gonna wait until the blush on your face disappears before we enter, I'm afraid the tea will have already gone cold" Barbs stated with a firm voice but a teasing look

"... let's just go back, i can't face them" Dia says completely red

Leviathan

There is currently an event in RAD

As a way to reward the students in finishing the exams, a sports festivals was held with your suggestion

What's a sports festival without a race and there is no way you are not gonna participate even though your opponents are demons

Are you familiar with the race in which in between races you take a piece of paper from a basket, read and take a person from the crowd that best represent the words written in the paper and finish the race together

Yep, that's the game you're participating now (i don't know the name)

You're in position, waiting for a bang to officially start running

Once the race started, you ran as fast as you can but compared to the others you're like a snail

Nevermind the speed, you are about to grab a paper from the basket and read what's written

"Prettiest person you know"

Your eyes scanned through the audience and disappointingly not finding the demon you're looking for

No choice

"LEVIATHAN, COME TO ME!!" you shouted at the top of your lungs, summoning the demon from out of nowhere

The moment levi appeared in front of you, you had the audacity to show him a toothy grin, grabbed his hand and yell run

Levi was more than disoriented. But nevertheless ran

It took him a few seconds to register he's in a race.

He was quick to notice how you guys were losing. Thus he quickly took matters in his own hands, scooped you bridal style and finished the race in first place

"Leviii we won!" you cheered hugging the life out of the demon, not minding how levi has become

"So what was written in your paper miss? " the announcer asked from the microphone

You were quick to unlatch yourself from the blushing tomato and grab the microphone to answer enthusiastically

"THE PRETTIEST PERSON I KNOW" you cheered, loud enough for the whole venue to hear

There was a momentary silence and eyes were drifting between you and the Avatar of Envy

After hearing that, Levi malfunctioned and became beet reed from ears to his entire face, covering his mouth which was attempting to form a squiggly smile

The crowd cheered loudly and the brothers did not miss to add a comment

" good for you leviathan" from satan

"awee how cute" from asmo

"congratulations levi" from beel

"don't turn into a tomato" from mammon

"breathe levi" from belphie

"prepare for cpr, belphie" from lucifer

"hell no" - belphie

A/N: I have been inactive for soooo long but I'm backkkk

Masterlist🌻

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.3K] prompt: "no reason." a house party, a needy girlfriend Steve can't say not to and some bathroom smut.

Steve hadn’t hosted a party at his house in an age. Years, maybe. But it was Robin’s twenty first and Nancy wanted to throw her a big surprise thing and well, with the size of Steve’s house and his parents always gone, it made the most sense.

And despite Robin being the birthday girl, Steve still garnered the same attention he had in high school, slapping shoulders and bumping fists with people he passed, pointing out the stack of drinks in the kitchen to newcomers, catching up with old school friends and pretending he didn’t see all the girls that were making eyes at him.

You did though. 

It was becoming harder and harder to ignore them, especially when you’d been stuck on a sofa between Eddie and a dude you only knew from Biology, watching as your boyfriend played host. You stared at the girls with the big hair, the perfect curls, glossy lips and wandering hands. Their touch all over Steve, fingers grazing his chest, palms curled around his bicep as they leaned in too close, lips brushing his ear so they could be heard over the music.

And then the lights went off and Nancy came out of the kitchen with a cake littered with candles and everyone sang for Robin. You put on a smile for your friend, ignored the way Eddie frowned at the way you sat too tense, brushing off his offered joint, something you’d normally happily accept. 

When the coloured string lights flickered back on, bathing the large living room in lime green, bubblegum pink and orange, you watched as Cindy Reed pushed her tits out at your boyfriend and reached up to drag a hand through his hair.

No. Absolutely not. 

Eddie must have seen too, ‘cause he breathed out a choked laugh and didn’t seem all that surprised when you got up from the couch, immediately pushing your way through the crowd of drunks and dancers. 

“Easy, tiger,” he called out after you, going ignored for the most part, his fingers bringing another rolled joint to his lips to lick.

To be fair to Steve, he looked completely panicked as Cindy continued to corner him, eyes wide as he spotted you, relief and only a little fear in them as you neared.

“Hey, baby, I’ve been lookin’ all over for you--”

You didn’t reply, you weren’t sure you even smiled. You simply raised your brows at Cindy as you wrapped your hand around Steve’s and dragged him with you as you walked away, daring her to say something. She didn’t.

Steve followed happily, at your heels, his free hand on your waist as you squeezed through the crowds. You didn’t stop and turn to him until you were out in the front hall, empty of Mrs Harrington’s usual crystal vases as a few partygoers bumped into console tables. 

“Shit, babe, you’re not mad, right?” Steve looked stricken, brows pulled together as he reached for you, “wasn’t interested in the-- oh, fuck--”

He got his answer when you surged forward, pushed onto your toes so you could clasp his cheeks in your palms and pull him down to you. You lips met his a little messily, urgently, greedily. You sighed when Steve groaned, opening his mouth for you immediately. You licked into him, a hand dragging into his hair and tugging a little, the way that you knew he liked, not fucking Cindy Reed. 

He pulled you closer, uncaring who was watching. It was his fucking house, right? His fingers hooked into your belt loops, tugging a little roughly until your chest met his and he could feel your grin against his mouth. You tasted like cherry vodka, sweet and tart and Steve groaned low when you nipped at his bottom lip, pressing a sweet kiss to it before you pulled away.

Not far though, he wouldn’t let you, arms wrapping around the small of your back to keep you close, grinning down at you with wild hair and glazed over eyes.

“Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?” he murmured it against your cheek, nuzzling there as he pressed a line of kisses over your jaw.

Steve wasn’t dumb, he knew. He knew you. You tasted sweet and nice and a little like jealousy and he’d a stupid, stupid man to not enjoy it. He leaned into the way you carded a hand through his hair, painted fingernails scratching lightly against his scalp, just enough pressure to make him shiver for you.

“No reason,” you lied. 

Steve just grinned - smirked, really - letting you drag your hands over his broad shoulders and down his chest, preening up at him as he grabbed at your ass, pushing you into the half hard length that was becoming too obvious in his denim jeans.

Robin walked by in a plastic tiara and Steve’s sunglasses, two bottles of beer in each hand. She barely glanced at you both, but she’d seen enough, knew you both well enough to mutter out, “gross.”

Her comment went ignored, except from an uptick of Steve’s brows, a sly smile as he continued to love on you, your head tilted up to let him. He pressed kiss after kiss along your throat, humming happily when you moaned softly for him and just as you were about to suggest a quick visit to his bedroom, Jonathan was turning the corner and shouting out for Steve. 

“Harrington, you got a mop?”

There was thud from the kitchen before Steve could ask why, the telltale sound of glass breaking just heard over the bass of the music. 

“And a dustpan?” Jonathan added.

Steve groaned, pulling away from you grudgingly, whining a little when you pouted at him, hands clinging to the hem of his shirt until the very last second.

“Shit, hold on,” he told the other boy before turning back to you, eyes pleading. “I’ll be right back, baby, yeah? Promise.”

You didn’t see Steve for another hour, both of you caught up and distracted by other people, loud music and dancing, the dramas that always came with a party with too much alcohol. You found the boy in the kitchen, busy talking to a guy you knew he was once on the basketball team with and although he didn’t pause his conversation with his friend, Steve smiled and held out his arm to you as you pushed yourself into his side.

You let their talk of league tables and who had signed with what college team blend in with the rest of the party sounds, the blur of music and bass, people yelling and ice cubes scattering across the kitchen tiles. It was easy to let your hand wander, sneaking up the side of Steve’s ribs, fingers pushing underneath his shirt to find bare skin, rippled with goosebumps at your touch. 

His breath hitched, unnoticed by his friend, felt by you as you lay your head to his chest, the picture of innocence as you cuddled into your boyfriend, hands wrapped around his waist. The arm that Steve had draped over your shoulder squeezed a little, a soft warning, a silent ‘behave.’

But you kept up your pestering, hand travelling down, over his stomach and the small trail of hair there until you could hook your fingers into the waist of his jeans, still hidden under his shirt. You felt the muscles in his abdomen tense and contract, and Steve’s hand found the back of your neck, cupping and squeezing gently.

If he didn’t know you as well as he did, he would’ve missed the way your brows lifted, the way your lips parted for him.

He only paused his conversion to turn to you for a few seconds, his pretty face dipping down to meet yours, noses bumping. “Baby,” his voice held the hint of a threat, too nice, too sweet for you to take it seriously. “Be good, c’mon now.”

So you huffed, petulant, pulling away from your boyfriend to pout and find something else to do. You didn’t see the way Steve frowned at your lack of contact but he watched you pick up another bottle of wine and plop yourself down beside Robin in the still busy living room, the lights turning you crimson and aquamarine. 

You caught his eye, felt his gaze and kept up your bratty demeanour, tongue stuck out at him before passing the open bottle of rose to the other girl. You didn’t like being told no, Steve knew that, and fuck, he didn’t say it often. 

But it made him grin, the way you held his stare, chin tilted up, a little defiant and you only broke away from looking at him when Robin tried to pour the sweet wine into your mouth for you, the pink liquid trailing messily down your lips and throat.

You didn’t have to look back at Steve to know he was staring.

It was passing one o’clock in the morning when you were pushing through the thinning crowds, people slipping into the shadows and corners of Steve’s too big house to do all sorts of nefarious business. That’s how you found Steve out in the backyard, strong profile and wild hair lit up by the pool lights. He hung back from Eddie, who was standing around one of the sun loungers, baggie in hand as he watched two boys you didn’t recognise count out a stack of cash.

Eddie always grabbed Steve when he made more expensive deals, feeling a little safer with his friend lurking nearby, ready to step in if his customers tried anything funny. You knew that. Steve knew you knew that. ‘Cause both boys had told you before that they didn’t like you hanging round any deals in case shit kicked off. 

And yet, there you were, the hem of your short dress lifting in the cool night air, bare feet cool on the patio bricks and you barely made a sound as you wound your arms around Steve’s waist, nose pushed to the nape of his neck.

“Baby,” you whispered, sounding as needy as you felt. 

Steve turned, a little surprised to see you considering you knew why he was outside. So he tried not to frown - not meanly, not really at you - just at the situation and your proximity to the shady looking strangers that were now staring at you from beside Eddie.

“Sweetheart, go back inside, please?” Steve tried to reason, voice gentle, “I’ll be in a minute.”

His voice left no room for arguing and his reasons for it had always been clear but you’d been dying to get him alone since you were forced to watch Cindy put her hands on him hours before. So you rolled your eyes and huffed, pulling at the hem of his shirt in a weak attempt to get Steve to give in. 

“Miss you,” you breathed out softly, doe eyes staring up at your boyfriend as you let your gaze drop to his lips. “Don’t you wanna come spend some time alone with me?”

Steve softened a little at your words, as desperate for you as you were for him. He tangled his fingers in yours to bring your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your palm, only to tilt his head back to the door.

“I won’t be long, babe.”

You narrowed your eyes, more than a little annoyed now and if you weren’t as tipsy as you were, as pent up for the boy as you’d been all night, you would’ve been much more understanding. But you’d been vying to have the boy to yourself all night, feeling far too greedy to share anymore. You knew when the party ended and Steve had ushered all of your friends to the spare rooms and couches, he’d take you to bed with him and you’d get what you wanted.

You knew that. But the issue was, that you were feeling like a downright brat and you wanted your boyfriend now. Cindy Reed was in the kitchen, still lingering, sipping on a drink filled with ice and she was staring at you and Steve through the glass doors.

That certainly didn’t help.

“You’ve barely hung out with me all night,” you mumbled, frowning up at the boy. “Everyone else is more important, huh, Stevie?”

Steve caught your chin before you could pull away, finger and thumb on either side of your jaw and he tilted your face up to him, squishing your cheeks lightly. You kept up the one thing you’d done all night, always consistent: you pouted at him.

“Baby, you’re pushin’ your luck tonight,” Steve murmured, and as smooth as his voice was, all honey and sweet, you knew he was telling you to wind it in.

Too bad you weren’t one for doing what you were told. 

So you pushed yourself to your toes, further into his hold and managed to drag your lips over his bottom one, catching the pretty curve of it in a messy little kiss. He didn’t pull away, Steve would never, he couldn’t have even dreamt of committing such a crime but his sharp intake of breath didn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“Baby,” you cooed, sticky sweet for him, smiling wide when his touch dropped to your neck, warm palm and thick fingers fluttering over your throat. “Baby,” you whispered again, “don’t you wanna come upstairs with me?”

You saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his lashes fluttered when you pushed a hand to his stomach, dragging fingers over his hip bone. Steve took one look over his shoulder at Eddie, watched how the money had exchanged hands and the strangers were walking away. The boys nodded, an uptilt of their chins and Eddie smirked when Steve grabbed your hand and pulled you back into the house.

He didn’t say anything, just ushered you in front of him with a possessive hand on the small of your back, gaze trained on the way the hem of your dress danced around the tops of your thighs as you both walked passed a disgruntled Cindy. Steve coaxed you up the stairs and he didn’t have to tell you to head to his rooms, neither of you paying attention to the old school friends and guests that catcalled at you both as you passed.

Your plans were ruined when you opened Steve’s bedroom door to find Robin in Steve’s bed, passed out and drooling on his pillow. She wore the only pair of pjyama’s Steve owned, a plaid pair that his Grandma had bought him last christmas, unused by the boy and buttoned up squint by the birthday girl. She still wore her tiara, soft snores comin from her parted lips and god, you loved her, but you’d never wanted to kill Robin more.

“Fuckin’ hell, Buckley,” Steve swore softly, letting go of you only to throw a blanket over his best friend before ushering you both back out the door.

“Steve,” you were whining, running a little to catch up with the boy’s long strides, his hand clutching yours as he pulled you along behind him. “I need--”

“I know, baby, shit, I know,” he groaned out, impatient as you were and he led you to a small bathroom that was nestled between two of the guest bedrooms, hardly used. “C’mon, in here.”

Steve used you to close the door, grabbing you and spinning, your back pressed to the wood as it clicked shut and the lock snapped. He was on you instantly, mouth open and slanting over yours as he licked into you dirty, moaning when you whimpered, finally getting what you wanted. You clung to him, desperate, eyes shut tight as it all became too much and you decided you needed everything the boy was willing to give you right away.

“Steve,” you moaned, breath catching in your throat your boyfriend was pulling away, a wide hand cradling the side of your face, fingers spanning over you cheek and jaw. 

“Nuhuh, pretty thing,” Steve chastised, tilting his chin up and away from you so you couldn’t chase his kiss. “You need to learn a little patience, don’t you?”

Your jaw went slack, lips parted and eyes glassy, ‘cause the night was turning into early morning and it felt like too much time had passed since Steve last touched you. You were greedy, wanting, selfish about the way you needed him.

He kept you against the door, fingers grazing over the column of your throat, and if he felt the thumpthumpthump of your pulse point, Steve didn’t mention it. He hummed, satisfied with the way you fell silent, looking up at him like you wanted to cry and Steve knew it was a little bit sick, but he always thought you looked so pretty like that. Big eyes all soft and wet for him, pleading a little, gazing at him like you’d do anything he asked.

So unlike the greedy little thing who’d been pushing his buttons all night long.

“You’ve been a fucking menance,” Steve murmured, soft and achingly sweet, “haven’t you?” His thumb moved to push against your bottom lip, tracing the curve of it, all swollen and slick from his rough kisses. “Testin’ me all night, just can’t wait, can you? Gotta get what you want, when you want it, huh?”

You whined, a little cry that had Steve’s cock jumping against the confines of his jeans. 

“I just wanted you,” you told him, as if that was more than enough of an explanation.

Maybe it was, you’d thought, ‘cause Steve had grinned, like he’d won a prize and he sighed all dreamy as he pushed his thumb a little further, watching you in awe as you wrapped your lips around the digit. 

“Look at you,” he whispered, staring at the way you sucked on his thumb, cheeks hollowed out and tongue licking at him. “Pretty girl. Such a pretty, needy little thing. You couldn’t wait, no?”

You shook your head, mouth opening to gasp for a breath, and Steve took the opportunity to press down onto the flat of your tongue, watch as you let him drag your thumb across it and back over your lips. He groaned, bending down to nudge your nose with his, nuzzling into you as he peppered some sweet kisses to your cheeks.

“You’re so spoiled,” he grunted, his free hand dropping to drag your dress up your thighs, showing off bare skin and red lace. “So fuckin’ spoiled, thinking that you can get what you want from me when you want it.”

“Stevie,” you were mumbling, voice a little shot from panting for him, “don’t be mean.”

The boy let out a huff of laughter, bending down to crowd into you, lips pressing once, twice, three times on yours, a series of pretty kisses that had your lashes fluttering for him.

“M’not being mean, baby,” Steve tutted, “it’s true. You know I’ll always give in to you, don’t you? Know I can’t say no to that pretty, little face? Those pretty, pretty eyes, fuck, sweetheart.”

You hiccuped a soft sound, preening as you clung to his shoulders, nodding at his words. Fuck yeah, you knew that. 

“Yeah, thought so. M’too soft for you, s’ridiculous what you do to me, Christ.”

You were pawing at him, chest heaving, trying your best to get what you wanted without asking for it but Steve wouldn’t let you move from the door and when your eager hands tried to yank at his belt buckle, he caught them both and pinned them to the wood above you. 

“Ah, ah,” he tsked, the line of his nose tracing up yours. He smelled like cologne and bourbon, the sticky sweet scent of alcohol and weed and Steve. The music from the still ongoing party downstairs made the door vibrate, the bass giving the house its own pulse. But Steve was making you throb in completely different ways. “Good girls ask nicely.”

You huffed, tried not to grin, ‘cause it was always fun to let Steve think he was in charge. So you arched your back and pressed your tits against his chest, both hands stuck in his bigger one as his other hand cupped your cunt. 

He groaned when he felt how warm you were, how wet, lace damp against his palm, and well, shit. Maybe he was in charge this time. 

“Please?” You asked sweetly, trying your best to push your hips down onto his fingers, grinding against the little friction he gave you. “Please, baby?”

“Sound so pretty,” Steve cooed, voice a little rough around the edges. “Just so damn cute when you actually do as you're told for once.”

You laughed when Steve smirked, leaning down to mouth at your jaw, nipping at the shell of your ear until you whined. 

“What do you want?” The boy asked you, “hmm?”

“You,” you told him simply, head falling back against the door to let him kiss a line down your throat. “Inside me.” A tug at his hair, a groan, an awfully pretty noise. “Immediately.”

“Dirty,” Steve grinned. “Greedy. Demanding.” Steve caught your mouth, licked into you deep with a low groan, pulling a sigh from you that made his dick twitch. “Spoiled.”

“Well,” you pouted, “just give me what I want then.”

It seemed like an age before Steve spoke again, his fingers still rubbing slow, messy circles over your underwear, his rough pads doing awfully nice things on your clit. He let you pant into him, chin tilted up, lips parted and barely touching, Steve’s mouth curled into a satisfied smile. 

“So spoiled,” he repeated, trying his damn best to act like he was never going to give in to you immediately. “Hands on the counter, pretty thing.”

You tried not to act too smug but a little noise of excitement slipped out from your lips as Steve finally let go of your hands and let you sneak out from between the door and his body. He laughed at the way you leaned onto the counter by the sink, back arched and ass popped out for him, chin hooked on your shoulder to gaze back at him. 

“C’mon, big boy,” you smiled, too sweet for the words and the way you said them, looking at Steve through the line of your lashes. “Your adoring fans will be looking for you soon.”

Steve huffed out a laugh and shook his head at you as he approached, hands smoothing over your hips, the line of your spine. He pushed his cock against your ass, making you both stutter over a breath. No one time was wasted as he dragged your dress up, hitching it over your hips so he could pull your underwear to the side, fingers sliding through your folds to gather the slick there. 

“Fu-uck, baby,” Steve sighed out, dropping his head to the space between your shoulder blades, pressing kisses on the bare skin there. “You’re soaked.”

“I told you,” you huffed out, fingers curling around the countertop as Steve circled your clit and then slipped a finger inside you. “Wanted you all night. Can you fuck me? Please? Please?”

“Can’t say no to you,” Steve grunted, voice rough and wrecked, desperate for you. He only took his hands off of you to fumble with his belt, shoving his jeans down just enough to free his aching cock, rubbing the head of it along your folds. “Can never say no to you, spoiled, little thing.”

You gasped out when Steve pushed forward a little, slipping his tip into your cunt and hissing. You stared at him in the mirror, posed pretty behind you with his hair wild and his head thrown back. His hands squeezed tight at your waist and he stayed still, letting you adjust to the thick of him, stretching you out in the best way. 

“Stevie,” you wanted to cry, you felt like you were about to, eyes glassy, breath coming too quick and it kept catching in your chest. “Move, baby? Yeah? Please?”

“Yeah? You good, sweetheart?” Steve groaned out, staring down at where you were joined, his cock throbbing as he watched the way you clung around him. “Want it all? Gonna take all of me like a good girl?”

You nodded, desperate, jaw slack as you let yourself drop down to your elbows, ass pushed up and out for him. “Mhmm, yeahyeahyeah.”

So Steve shifted his hips, gripped you tighter when you cried out for him, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hips as he pushed him further inside of you, swearing softly at the feel of you wrapped so snugly around him.

“That’s it, there you go baby,” Steve whispered, too far gone to take a proper intake of breath. His chest was burning as he tried his best to not lose his shit, way too close already. “Oh, good girl, good fuckin’ girl.”

He set a fast pace the minute he bottomed out inside of you, hips snapping back before pushing the full length of his cock back into your cunt, the sounds of your heavy breaths and his hips slapping off of your ass bouncing off the tiles. 

“M’not gonna last long,” you mumbled, eyes unfocused and glassy as Steve reached around you to rub at your clit the exact way you liked. “Steve, shit.” 

“Thank god,” Steve groaned, leaning over you to kiss and bite at your shoulder and neck. “Fuck, baby, so fuckin’ close, you feel too good.”

Steve came seconds after you did, cheeks flushed and eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of your clenching around him, crying out his name between hiccups and gasps. He pulled out, swearing, fisting himself roughly as he spilled over your ass, getting the lace trick of your underwear a little messy. 

“Oh fuck me, fuck me, look at you,” Steve whined, “you’re too much, sweetheart.”

You were too busy trying to catch your breath, hair messy and stuck to your forehead as you smiled sleeping at him from the mirror. 

Steve landed a pretty tap to an ass cheek, grinned as he watched it bounce, his sticky mess shiny in the low bathroom light, dripping down the curve of your ass. 

“Fuckin’ spoiled, told you.”

[wardenparker]

Detective Tim Rockford with “I thought you liked forehead kisses” 😌 because I love forehead kisses

Tim Rockford. 2,836 words. "I thought you liked forehead kisses." Co-written with @absurdthirst Warnings: Grief, trauma from family death, discussions of death, angst, discussion of divorce, reconciliation Sequel to: “Wait! Please don’t leave!”

The days are shorter right now. He excuses himself by saying that he’s just checking in with you, but that’s easy considering you are still staying in his house. Weeks have come and gone, the crime scene tape has been cleared from the yard and the front door of the house you shared with your sister, but you haven’t been able to go back there, not even to pick up clothes. Opening the door to the house he is once more sharing with you, he calls out your name, turning and closing the door with a decisive click and turning the deadbolt to give you that extra sense of security you need. “Sweetheart? Where are you?”

“I’m in the kitchen.” Such a Donna Reed thing to say, but it’s true. And the semblance of a normal routine is helping to ground you, if you’re honest. The office is letting you work from home while you sort out your family tragedy and try to cope, but the fact is that being back in the house that you and Tim picked out together gives you a sense of safety and security.

He drops his keys on the entryway table and shucks his jacket, his shoulder harness still in place over his button down shirt as he walks into the kitchen. “Hey.” He sends you a soft smile, still trying to ignore how right it seems to have you here. He had been sharing his bed with you, not fucking you, but you had curled into his arms that first night and he hadn’t been able to turn you away when you needed comfort. “How are you doing today?”

“About the same.” No one expected this to be easy for you, but having Tim to lean on for support has helping more than you could possibly know. “But I, um…I made chicken parm for dinner…” It’s the smallest thing you could possibly do to thank him for taking you in, and it turns out that after all these years cooking is fairly soothing for you. The machinations of the kitchen are a comforting routine. So making his favourite dinner was not a very hard leap to take.

“You didn’t have to do that.” His protest is perfunctory, already drooling at the thought of your chicken parm. He’s never found one close to it. “But thank you.” Moving over to give you a hug, he presses his lips to your forehead gently.

It’s such a small gesture, but it warms you through to the point of making you ache. Practically making you melt against him. “What was that for?” You ask, almost like you’re afraid of what he might be getting ready to tell you. It’s been three weeks and you’re still here — maybe he wants you to leave or has finally realized this whole thing is inappropriate. Or worse — he’s realized that you still have feelings for him.

Tim pulls back, worried that he had possibly overstepped. He’s tried so hard, but it’s almost impossible when he’s still in love with you. Never stopped loving you if he’s honestly with himself. He shoots you a sheepish look. “I thought you liked forehead kisses.” He murmurs softly.

“I do.” And your cheeks are burning at the seemingly innocent show of affection. “I just…I’m surprised you remember, that’s all.” It seems like such a tiny thing to you. That fact that he remembers speaks volumes.

“I remember.” Tim answers quietly, his eyes sliding away from your face before he admits he remembers everything about what you like.

“I do, too.” You remember everything. The good and the bad. Including how you pulled the plug on your marriage too quickly. There should have been counseling and compromises. But you had reacted impulsively and he hadn’t fought you. So you had just…thought he agreed. That your marriage wasn’t worth saving after all.

Holding you close for another moment, Tim pulls away. Refusing to take advantage of your emotional vulnerability. “I picked up some clothes for you today.” He murmurs softly.

“You didn’t have to do that.” The day after the attack you had managed to get yourself to Target with the help of an emergency appointment with your therapist, and have been working off those supplies for weeks now.

“I know, but I thought it would be nice for you to have some of your things.” He’s not going to mention that he had the crime scene clean up crew in. It would be okay for you to go home but he doesn’t want you to.

“Thank you.” It’s almost painful to have him move away, but you can’t tell how much of it is grief, how much of it is missing him, and how much of it is gratitude. “Dinner’s almost ready…I had it all set up so you could work late if you need to…I just need to cook off the spaghetti and melt some cheese over the chicken.”

“Thank you.” You’ve been so understanding if he had to work late, probably because he’s working on your sister’s case, but he has news for you. “Sit down for a minute please, I want to talk to you.”

“Is everything okay?” It can’t be. Not if he has that serious tone. But you swallow hard and try not to catastrophize what it could be — that won’t help a single bit. All you can do is sink into a chair with wobbly knees and try not to fear the worst. That the man who killed your sister has gotten away. Or even killed again.

Tim kneels down in front of you again, taking your hands in his. “This afternoon, I arrested the man who murdered your sister.” He tells you softly. “He confessed. There’s no way he’s getting away with it.”

“He—he confessed?” The way you had been prepared for a fight. To have to look the man in the eyes in a court of law and make him admit it or worse. If he actually went free? The absolute terror in your heart that has been clutching into your soul with a merciless grip just slips, and with it comes the outpouring of tears that you’ve been holding back for weeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby.” You rock forward in a sob and he catches you in his arms, holding you close while you cry in rage, grief and absolute sorrow for the sister that has been taken from you and the life you have lost. “We have him, baby. It doesn’t bring her back, but he’s going to rot in jail for what he’s done.”

Without any concept of how long you cry for, all you know is that Tim stays there — crouched with his bad knees and his worse back — in front of you and holds you the whole time. He’s been the calm against the storm for this entire tragedy. He’s been a rock in the stormiest sea you’ve ever encountered, and you couldn’t be more grateful for the way he’s handled everything. By the time you finish crying, you’re shaking in his arms and really almost collapsed into him. It would be embarrassing if it weren’t the only other person in the world who means this much to you.

You are exhausted by the time you’ve stopped crying. Your eyes are puffy and your nose stuffed up but you are still the most gorgeous creature he’s ever seen. You sit back in your chair and he pats your knee. “Let me make you some tea, sweetheart. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m okay,” you promise him, despite that clearly not being the truth. You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck even and though you tried so hard to make him a nice dinner — you’re just exhausted.

“I know you are.” Tim murmurs softly, moving over to the kettle and bringing it to the sink to fill with water. It was one you had left, unused until you came back since he lived off coffee and cigarettes, the occasional take away Chinese. “You are a strong woman. But I know what you are going through. I see it everyday, sweetheart.”

“I was so unfair to you.” The regret in your voice is palpable. The sadness and the resignation. Knowing that if you had bent just a little instead of thinking you had to be strong as stone and simply end things, you might have been able to break through and realize that this is what Tim deals with on a daily basis.

“I kept all of this from you.” Tim reminds you. He had bottled up all his emotions towards the job, never letting you see the toll it takes on him. Never letting you understand why he was so driven to solve the case. He had witnessed too many people crying for their loved ones. Had too many mothers and wives, sisters and lovers collapse into his arms sobbing. He moves over to the stove and sets the kettle to boil, turning on the water in the pot beside it for the spaghetti. “I didn’t want it to touch you.”

“I’m so sorry, Tim.” From your place hunched over at the dining room table where you shared so many meals together, your head drops to hang between your shoulder blades.

“Hey…hey…” he moves back over, his hands on your shoulders instantly, squeezing gently. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He promises you. “Nothing. It was me.”

“We should have tried counseling. Or just talking more.” When he comes up in back of your chair you lean back instantly to be closer to him. “I’ve always hated myself for just leaving.”

“You weren’t happy.” Tim reminds you. “I didn’t make it easy for you when we were married, so when you said you wanted a divorce…I just— I gave you what you wanted.” He admits quietly. “I didn’t have the right to beg you for another chance, for anything really.” He had to talk to a therapist after he had killed a man right after the divorce, it was standard police protocol to be released back on the force, but he had worked through a lot of his issues. “I- compartmentalized when we were together, but I had a hard time decompressing. Putting work aside. You deserved so much more, but I just couldn’t give it to you then. I was trying to get those poor victims families some peace. To let the victims rest.”

“And I should have realized how much good you do for those families. For—” A shaky, shallow breath cracks out of you. “For the victims.” For people just like your sister. “And then the second it suits me I come back in and take advantage of the thing that I said I hated?” Shaking your head, you honestly can’t understand why he even bothers with you. He should have just told you to get a hotel room, and instead he’s been sharing his bed with you and fetching your clothes from your house. “I—I’m just so fucking sorry, honey.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He repeats softly, his fingers brushing your neck, feeling your pulse jump and he knows that it’s not the time or the place, but he can’t help himself. “I would do anything for you, sweetheart.” He admits. “I love you.”

Even though the pronounced frown on your face is from the situation and your tears and not from him, it feels like it deepens when your eyes widen and you turn around to face him again. “You mean you used to.” You correct carefully, trying to understand.

His heart aches at the displeasure in your face, aware that you wouldn’t want him to love you anymore. Still, he shakes his head. “No, I mean I still love you.” He confesses. “Never stopped, not even when you left.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m not trying to convince you of anything. But babe, I’m here for you because I love you, and you needed someone who cares about you.”

"You don't have to convince me of anything." The corners of your mouth turn up like a confession of your own, although you're still not entirely sure that you can even wrap your mind around what he's laying out in front of you. "What's the quote? If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours."

“I knew your address.” He’s not done laying everything out. Rolling his eyes at himself and tilting his head. “Slight misuse of resources. But when that call came over the radio, I think I stopped breathing. I know my heart stopped.” He shakes his head. “All I could think was that I had lost you, and you weren’t even mine anymore. But as long as you were safe and happy out in the world, I was okay.” His voice cracks slightly. “Thinking the worst….” He shakes his head again. “I feel so fucking guilty because of how happy I was that it wasn’t you.”

"That...would explain why your young Detective Fallon was curious about our relationship." The question while you gave your statement -- a perfunctory measure since you didn't really see anything but it was a crime in your home with your sister as the victim so you needed to be eliminated as a suspect -- had surprised you but you had answered it honestly and moved on. "He thinks the world of you, by the way." Swallowing thickly, you push yourself to your feet to actually look Tim in the eyes. "And so do I."

“You feel appreciative of me helping you.” Tim doesn’t want to hope, and the look in your eyes gave him doing exactly that. “I don’t want to ever take advantage of you, sweetheart.”

"Baby..." As free as Tim has been with terms of endearment, you have been more guarded. Making sure that what you've been feeling wasn't powered by grief or the fear of being alone. But...it's Tim. This man is still your husband in your heart, even if not on paper. "I didn't leave because I stopped loving you. I never stopped loving you."

He stares at you for a moment, weighing your words and he closes his eyes in acceptance. His hands drift down to his hips and he swallows. “What do you want to do, sweetheart?” He asks softly.

“I don’t know.” You admit quietly, wanting to take another step closer but afraid to move a muscle. “But I know I don’t want to walk away from you again.”

“I had the clean up crew come through your place.” He murmurs softly. “You can rent it, sell it, burn it to the ground.” He huffs, “but don’t tell me about that one. I’d have to arrest you.”

“I’ve already decided to sell it.” Even thinking that Tim was only being nice because of what happened a few weeks ago, you hadn’t known that part of your hesitancy to leave this house was going back there. Even if he wanted you gone, you were finding someplace new.

“I think that’s a good idea.” He knows you will have to wait if you bought it with your sister. Her estate would have to be settled, but you can always stay here. Even if you don’t want to live here permanently again. “We can arrange for packers to come? So you don’t have to be there?”

“It shouldn’t be hard for me to find a place.” Even though you don’t want to. Even though you just want to stay here with Tim in the house you should have been living in for years. “I’m sure you don’t want me taking up your space. Even if you—if we—”

“Stay.” Tim interrupts you immediately. “Please. I want you to stay.” He gives you a small smile. “This is your house too. Always has been. Just- the joy left it when you moved out and I want it back.”

“I want to stay.” And admitting that out loud feels like you could collapse again but this time with sheer relief.

Tim steps closer to you, his arms coming around you again and he kisses your forehead once more. “Then stay, baby.” He whispers lovingly. “You never have to leave.”

However much you might have grown in the time you were apart, or what you might have discovered about yourselves, you’re still standing here in the kitchen of the house you picked out together. With your arms around each other. And with the gratitude that life is still allowed to have bright spots in the inky black darkness. “I missed you, love.”

“I missed you too.” A case had brought you back into his life, a horrible one, but it had allowed you both to compromise. To yield just enough to be able to come back together again. Detective Tim Rockford wouldn’t make the mistake of overlooking important clue to your feelings this time.

______

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My Masterlist!

[amber-laughs]

Ned and Lyanna's Pale Blue Roses

There is so much yet to be revealed from the Tower of Joy but the most notable missing detail is Jon Snow himself. He has no place in Ned’s memory of Lyanna’s death. Ned explicitly says only he and Howland Reed left the Tower of Joy alive that day, but we know this can’t be true. They left the tower with another living breathing human being and Ned knows that too. So what gives?

“I might mention, though, that Ned's account, which you refer to, was in the context of a dream... and a fever dream at that. Our dreams are not always literal.” - George R.R. Martin. Not only that but Ned himself admits there is much he simply blacked out from “They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his. Ned could recall none of it.”

and may I remind you “A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness” A Clash of Kings - Daenerys IV 

I think Ned’s mind, through his trauma, grief and determination to leave the past behind, has altered his memories. I think Ned has mentioned Jon almost everytime he mentions the scene in the tower. I think Jon is the blue rose petals from Ned’s memories.

"Eddard!" she called. A storm of rose petals blew across a blood-streaked sky, as blue as the eyes of death. A Game of Thrones - Eddard X 

If Lyanna’s voice was as damaged as Ned claims “The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper” and yet he could hear her calling for him, surely he could hear a baby crying. Surely Ned knew the Kingsguard would never let him, a rebel whose cause had just murdered Aegon and Rhaenys in cold blood, anywhere near Rhaegar’s last living son. So as Jon’s cries blow across the blood streaked sky Ned knows what comes next.

“The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister's eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black.” A Game of Thrones - Eddard I

So was Jon just lying on the floor of the tower? He had to have been somewhere? His mother’s arms? Until her muscles gave out and fell to the bed she laid on maybe.

“But Jon isn’t dead, the rose petals are dead.” True but the petals Ned claims he saw in the wind weren’t dead either. Jon Snow isn’t dead but Lyanna’s son is. He never existed. Rhaegar’s children are all dead. Only Ned Stark’s bastard remains.

"The night of our wedding feast, the first time we shared a bed, he called me by your sister's name. He was on top of me, in me, stinking of wine, and he whispered Lyanna." Ned Stark thought of pale blue roses, and for a moment he wanted to weep. A Game of Thrones - Eddard XII

Cersei is currently speaking of Lyanna but make no mistake, this conversation is wrapped around Jon Snow. 

Ned thought, If it came to that, the life of some child I did not know, against Robb and Sansa and Arya and Bran and Rickon, what would I do? Even more so, what would Catelyn do, if it were Jon's life, against the children of her body? He did not know. He prayed he never would. A Game of Thrones - Eddard XII

He doesn’t list Jon with his biological children but Ned’s saying he’d react with the same paternal instinct and, unlike Catelyn, he wouldn’t save them at the expense of Jon. That’s why he shifts to it to her, she’s the unknown variable in this. Ned doesn’t need to wonder because he’s already done it. He’s chosen Jon’s safety for fifteen years knowing the Starks could be executed over his secret.

What do you take me for? You've a bastard of your own, I've seen him. Who was the mother, I wonder? Some Dornish peasant you raped while her holdfast burned? A whore? Or was it the grieving sister, the Lady Ashara? She threw herself into the sea, I'm told. Why was that? For the brother you slew, or the child you stole? Tell me, my honorable Lord Eddard, how are you any different from Robert, or me, or Jaime?" "For a start," said Ned, "I do not kill children. A Game of Thrones - Eddard XII

Cersei asks a few questions here that in large boil down to “Who is your bastard’s mother?” Ned’s only response is “I do not kill children.” He’s given her his answer. Probably the most answer honest he ever gave about Jon. All he wants to do for Cersei is keep her children from the same fate as Rhaegar’s. He’s done it successfully once before, that his blueprint here. But of course he won’t allow his mind to go there. He never dwells on Jon’s parentage, not even in the privacy of his own mind. “(…) and he whispered Lyanna." Ned Stark thought of pale blue roses, and for a moment he wanted to weep.” He thinks of pale blue roses, of the innocent children at stake. Of the death of his sister and how she died and he wants to weep.

The Kings of Winter watched him pass with eyes of ice, and the direwolves at their feet turned their great stone heads and snarled. Last of all, he came to the tomb where his father slept, with Brandon and Lyanna beside him. "Promise me, Ned," Lyanna's statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood. A Game of Thrones - Eddard XIII

They are angry with him, the Kings of Winter, Lyanna, there is something he didn’t do. In Jon’s own dreams it’s the Kings of Winter he sees on his way to his mother’s grave. They try to tell him. They scream he’s not a Stark, they want him to know just as much as she does. Her pale blue roses still haunt him while she cries for the promises they both know he can no longer keep. When he slept, he dreamed: dark disturbing dreams of blood and broken promises. A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV

Ned Stark reached out his hand to grasp the flowery crown, but beneath the pale blue petals the thorns lay hidden. He felt them clawing at his skin, sharp and cruel, saw the slow trickle of blood run down his fingers, and woke, trembling, in the dark. A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV

For certain only Ned and Howland Reed knew the truth. A good argument for Benjen, who Ned’s heard is dead beyond the Wall. No he’ll never tell Jon the truth no matter how much he wants now wants to, “The thought of Jon filled Ned with a sense of shame, and a sorrow too deep for words. If only he could see the boy again, sit and talk with him…”  Secrets hidden beneath pale blue petals never to be revealed. 

[witchofhimring]

Loyalty Chapter 9

Synopsis: Kings Landing falls and Rhaenyra calls for your head. A life comes into the world, another is taken.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen

Jaecerion Targaryen x Reader

Jason Lannister x Reader (minor)

(more to come!)

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, Plot twist at the end!

Amelia Tarley had her back towards the New Gods. The Sept had secede to be a place of comfort. Once all her family was gone she pulled up her hood and headed into the garden. Today it was empty and for that she was grateful. H/c fell around her face, obscuring the girl. From around her neck she pulled a heavy iron key. Looking around to check, Amelia plunged it into a keyhole in the ground. With a click the secret door was open. Ameila grunted as she forced open the trap door. Carefully she slipped inside, one hand on the door. With some difficulty, she had a lamp in her hand, stabilized herself on the stairs. Down she went, one step at a time. The steps were not damp, but years of wear mean the once prominent form of the steps were worn down. Finally her feet hit the dirt ground and she padded down the hallway.

At the end was a wooden door. It was so dilapidated that there was no need to unlock it. Faintly one could see a white Weirwood tree painted onto the pealing wood. With a light push it opened onto a small room.

Y/n, Ameila Tarley's daughter, eyes the needle as it slid between two pieces of thread. You had been lucky. The first few months had been easy on you. But at the sixth month your belly expanded alarmingly. The maester on hand told you that it was normal. Sometimes a woman will not show until later on in the pregnancy. Exploring had been halted as walking had become somewhat difficult. Thankfully all your dresses had been made to accommodate the belly. It seemed Alys Rivers was aware beforehand of your pregnancy. The thought unsettled you. Even Prince Aemond and Ellyn had not been aware. Servants gossip perhaps?

The Gold thread was delicate between your fingers. All alone in this great big tower you felt at peace. One might think that being away from the glittering court of Casterly Rock to the bleakness of Harrenhal would make you sad. On the contrary you were more at peace than you had been in months. No eyes on you, no judging husband or insolent mistresses. Just you and the baby. There was just two individuals you saw frequently, Marisa and Alys. Marisa was a young willowy woman with heaps of brown hair. She was to be your maid. Alys had taken what you felt to be an unusual amount of interest. Frequently she had asked how you slept, at and whether the babe was well. It was just so strange.

Alys entered the room with a steaming pot of mulled wine. She placed it next you and looked at the result of hard labor. "A family tree." This familiarity might have earned her a rebuke. But Alys held some sort of power that made such comments feel unwarranted. "Yes." You flattened the fabric to show long, thin lines of gold connecting names. You had just gotten to your mothers name, Amelia Tarley, an archer situated underneath. Seeing her name, Alys had a look of frank curiosity. Green eyes drifted up to another name,

"That is a northern house." Alys Rivers commented. "Yes, the Reeds...." Trailing off, it hit you that your First Men heritage had never concerned you before. Your mother had been a Tarley, and her mother before had hailed from house Reed. The northerners had always seemed so alien to you that it never crossed your thought their blood flowed through those same veins. Your right hand traced the black thread. House Reed, like most other Northern houses fought for Rhaenyra. Those who were close in blood were your sworn enemies. How would your grandmother Laura Reed feel about you taking the side of her houses enemies? Although few could chose their marriages your belly curled in on itself.

"Do you know the words of house Reed?" Alys Rivers sat down in front of you. Any other time you might have been offended. But your thoughts lingered on old lessons. The Starks went by "Winter Is Coming". The Boltons went by "Our Blades Are Sharp". But other then that no other came to mind. It was embracing really, you knew the names and mottos of every house in The Reach. But outside of any prominent family in Kings Landing you were completely ignorant. "They swear by ice and fire"." Cryptic words. A shiver passed through you.

An old book you had pillaged from the library lay open. It was late and hardly a soul stirred (although some certainly still did). The candle light flickered illuminating old parchment scribed a century ago. You flipped through the pages until they landed on house Reed, signified by its telltale lizard.

House Reed is situated in the Neck, making it the most southern of all the northern houses. They have ruled from there since the Marsh Kings defeat thousands of years before the conquest (the exact date is unknown). They make their oaths by the words "Ice and Fire".

It was the oddest name. Was the motto in reference to an old grudge? You continued to read.

There are no contemporary accounts as to why House Reed chose there exact words. However members of their houses insist it is to remind Westeros of The Others.

The Others, a northern superstition. Though this was hardly the most wild northern superstition. They believed in all sorts of things. With a thump the book was placed aside. The baby had given a kick and you winced. "Hey." You said quietly. With a puff you blew out the candle and laid back on fluffed up pillows. Hands rested on a belly whose occupant was suddenly very active. You could almost not believe it. Motherhood had always been a woman's duty but every time the babe turned it felt unreal. For everyone else this was the heir to Casterly Rock, but to you this babe was previous, whether male or female. A safe delivery was all you asked for. Even if it was a girl she would still be important. You thought to your fate after the birth. Where would you go next? Casterly Rock was an option. Or would they make you go back to the Red Keep? It was not as if you had a choice in the matter. You were not some great lady who could call on loyal bannermen and family for defense. What if they separated you from the baby?! That outcome was not unlikely. At nineteen you were still young and would likely be remarried. Ellyn may even convince them to do so, out of resentment for her continuing bareness. A hand touched your belly.

You flipped through the page until a terrifying face leapt out at you. Alarmed and curious, you flipped back. In ink were rotting corpses walking eerily along the snow. At least you pictured them walking in an ungainly fashion. Images of sickly arms swaying back and forth like branches on a tree came to mind. Empty eyes with no signs of life. Gaping mouths with the stench of death on them. A thrill of horror passed through and you dared to read.

White Walkers. No man and perhaps even the Gods do not know where these creatures hail from. In the Dark Night they came to claim the lives of every man and woman in Westeros. Gods know they could even have taken the world. The Great Wall was erected and brave men stand watching. But they may come again.

The passage was short. Nevertheless your mind raced at the thought of dead corpses ravaging Westeros. Furiously you put the book away. This was ridiculous. Of course white walkers did not exist. What, did talking trees and fairies exist too? No. You were being silly.

But for the first time your dreams were filled, not with blood, but a cold landscape. And a woman with h/c flittered in and out.

Your ladies would arrive any day now. For that you were grateful. On the day they were to arrive a young man no older than yourself raced into Harrenhal, breathless. Everyone had been breaking their fast, a usually dull affair. The tense silence was broken when the double doors were unceremoniously thrown open and a boy staggered through. "Your Grace." He was winded. One of the women stood up and filled a glass. After several gulps he places it down, a line of red down his chin. "Your mother had me come. Your Grace, Kings Landing has fallen."

No one dared move. Everyone stayed in the hall, awaiting their fate. Was the war won for Rhaenyra? If so what did that mean for you? And what of your ladies, had they been waylaid, or a worse fate? Soon tales came in. Thankfully the King and the children had fled. But it seemed the women were not important enough as Dowager Queen Alicent and Queen Helaena were prisoners. At least the children were safe. Rhaenyra was not a merciful, not after the loss of her sons. Vaeron's screams invaded your ears. A tic developed in your right hand and soon that arms was full of pins and needles. Your left hand came up to your hair. Nervously you played with the ends.

An hour later another came, this man one of Rhaenyra's. He was younger than you, eyes anxiously flitted between everyone. He was dressed in Targaryen black and red, you wondered if that was wise. Prince Aemond stood looming over the boy. The youth quaked beneath Prince Aemond. The boy pulled out a scroll with shaking fingers. "Read it. Aemond ordered." The boy stammered and then red. "Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name and rightful Queen pf Westeros commands Aemond Targaryen to submit himself to the Iron Throne, without the company of Vaehgar. We will have you know that the Dowager Queen and Princess Helaena-" "Queen Helaena." Prince Aemond snarled. A borderline hysteric gasp left the boy. He looked like to faint. You did not blame him. "-are in our custody and will suffer the Queen's wrath if Prince Aemond does not come before Her Grace. Lady Y/n Tyrell will also be brought before the Queen to suffer judgment for the death of her son Prince Vaeron." Everything before you was blurry, the ground beneath solid as water. E/c eyes rolled into the back of your head as a scream filled the room.

You remembered nothing after that.

Rivers of blood danced around you in torrents. It ripped at your very being, threatening to sweep you away. Blood ran down your body, from the chest to the legs. Running down your body in a great morbid waterfall. A shrill cry was lost in the howl of the storm. It pressed in from all sides while pooling at your feet. You were reduced under this storm, weak against its power. Standing there with the certainty of someone doomed you allowed the walls to close in.

A cold towel lay across your forehead. As your senses came back you felt a warm feather bed underneath. The roar of a crackling fire. The howl of a storm outside. Then the sensations of your body awakened. Everything was sore and your head pounded. A slight sting could be felt on your right cheek. The first thing to move were your fingers. A flash of cold shuddered through them. Opening your eyes was a hard task. Then you felt fingers graze your face. Suddenly opening your eyes was not such a hard task. Alys Rivers hovered over you, jet black hair falling like a waterfall around you. Her piercing green eyes regarded you, seeking out something. "My Prince, she wakes." A creak came from the foot of your bed and Prince Aemond Targaryen stood up. "Lady Y/n?" He sounded uncertain, the title not coming out naturally.

"Well, she certainly caused a scene back there." Ellyn, how wonderful. Alys Rivers helped you sit up slightly, propped up by pillows. "Lady Y/n!" Lady Mari darted forward, her normally immaculate hair askew. "Your here....all of you?" Something dark passed over Lady Mari's face but it quickly passed. A painful throb passed through your head. With a hiss you lay back down. "Everyone is here. Lady Clarissa and Dara are in their rooms right now. Prince Jaecerion will be back in a moment." Your heart leapt at the thought of Jaecerion. It may not have been love but there was certainly affection.

The letter. Anxiety set in as the words came back. Rhaenyra Targaryen wanted you dead. "The letter." "What letter?" Lady Dara looked to Prince Aemond. Prince Aemond's eyes closed and his fist tightened. "Lady Y/n recived a letter from my sister. It seems Rhaenyra means to take revenge for the death of her son." "But that is hardly the lady's fault." Oh how comforting the words were. How you wished those words were true. But Lady Joan's words had prevailed. Shame, regret and a whirl of emotions passed through. "Don't you start crying. Now that woman's wrath will fall on us for your folly." Everyone looked to Ellyn. "I beg your pardon?" An astonished Lady Mari regarded Ellyn. "Oh please. Her wrath would have fallen here regardless. Have you forgotten your own husband slew Lucerys?" This only fueled the flames of Ellyn's rage. She stalked towards you. A palpable vengeance emanated from her very soul. In that moment you knew if Ellyn had the chance she would run a knife right through you. Even Prince Aemond stepped back. "Do you think you're safe? That a child protects you?" Her deep crimson dress rippled as step by step she came closer. In that moment she look almost as terrifying as Alys Rivers. Tall, with flowing dark hair and eyes that seemed to light up with a fire of their own. But unlike Alys who's eyes were hard to read Ellyn's were easy. Hatred.

"And what will you do?" Not one to back down from a confrontation, you fully sat up. No one stooped you, too transfixed. "Because one day something bad will happen. And when that happens your will wish you had never crossed-." "Quiet." Now their eyes landed on you. A lady challenging a princess. Every part of your body ached. Anger prevailed as you stood up on shaky legs. The train of your gown trailed behind you, rippling over old stone. Light illuminated the two figures standing. Yet nothing compared to the hate illuminating Y/n and Ellyn's eyes. Their wrath was more hateful than when Balerion's flames smote upon Harrenhal all those centuries ago. It carried malice akin to all the tormented souls that paced these old halls. An enchantment had been cast over Prince Aemond, Alys Rivers and Lady Mari. Mute horror dwelled on the prince's and lady's face, Alys River's was hidden in shadow. "And if you were to do that, what would happen? Do you simply think I will leave such a challenge unanswered?" Ellyn sneered. "What would you do then, Lady Y/n?" You stepped closer. Her sickly breath was upon your face. "It is not what would I do. It is what have I done. Did you think all those slights went unpunished?" Ellyn let lose a derisive laugh. But you waited. When she realized you did not continue she stopped. Because there was a cold look you bore, one that boded ill for her. "Have you wondered why you have never fallen with child?" Lady Mari gasped. Prince Aemond inhaled sharply. But none of those reactions mattered. All that existed was Ellyn and the pain you meant to cause. "You allowed a woman you hated near you. Allowed me to handle your robes, drinks and cakes. I reigned freely over every morsel that entered your mouth. How easy it would have been to simply slip something in." There was nothing for Ellyn to laugh about this time. Nor anyone else but you. Ellyn swayed precariously on her feet. You thought she meant to lunge at you. Back she went. Ellyn collapsed to the cold hard ground.

You never thought yourself a cruel woman. Growing up with the Maiden and Mother in mind such leanings should be crushed. But the past few months had fed such notions. Different being now called out to you. These voices were not so benevolent. They told you to maime, hurt. The despair of Ellyn tasted sweeter than any pastry. More nourishing than any meat. You had a greater need for it than life itself. You sat alone in your room. Ellyn had been hurried away. The rest had left, although Alys Rivers had asked to stay. Prince Aemond, not having it, ordered her to depart. So with reluctance Alys Rivers obeyed, but not before casting you once last glance. There was appraisal in her eyes. Then they left you.

You reclined on a chair by the window. One hand absentmindedly stroking your belly. The other rested on the windowsill. A full moon ruled the sky tonight. The woods bellow looked like something savage and mysterious on the very boarders of civilization. Taking a deep breath you tasted the nighttime air. Even up here you could smell every tree. Pine, birch, aspen, spruce, oak, and another scent that was familiar but whose name escaped you. Little whispers drifted up to your perch high above. You wondered what was in those woods. Perhaps one day you might like to take a look. There was something that drew you to that forest.

Prince Aemon stormed in, you had not expected this. There was such a stark look of rage upon his face that had he looked at you like that a year ago there would have been tears. Now there was only a lurch and dulled feelings. It was like looking at something through a frosted window that was once clear. You could see what was on the other side but it was blurred, the true scope a mere shadow of what it once was. No tears were shed, although your face did heat up, but not out of bashfulness or guilt. You remembered a time when you had begged Prince Aemond in that amoury. How weak you had been then. Your pride ached from that memory, throbbing like an open wound. So all you did was coldly stare at him.

Prince Aemond did not speak for a moment. A few time he opened his mouth, unable to find the right words. The shadow of a smile ghost your lips. "That.....that was-" "Cruel? It is no less than what she has done to me." If he excepted remorse then Prince Aemond had come to the wrong person. You relaxed against your chair, eyes coolly regarding the Prince. Once again Prince Aemond seemed to loose his words. It was an odd sight truly. The last time Prince Aemond had behaved with anything less than certainty had been during childhood. When he had two eyes instead of one, had no dragon and clung to his mothers skirts. In those says you had been his greatest friend, always by his side. Now all these years later the two of you stood in opposition instead of side by side. He only had one eye with a slightly gaunt look to him. His hair hung limply about the Prince's pale face. You on the other hand regarded him with little affection in your eyes. Red robes flowed out around you. If one had walking in at that moment they might have thought you a queen. Straight backed, an imperious disposition and looking at the Prince as one would to those beneath them.

"Who am I, Prince Aemond?" "Y/n." "No. I am Y/n Lannister. Dowager Lady of House Lannister and you are far to familiar in your behavior towards me. You will leave this room so that I can get properly dressed." Prince Aemond looked as if you had slapped him across the face. But he did as you bid and a moment later a maid came in. "I will have one of mine." The maid left and the Prince shot you one last look before leaving. Eventually Lady Mari entered bearing a crimson gown. She dressed you and your hair was plated into a braid. Prince Aemond only entered once you were prepared and Lady Mari was dismissed. Prince Aemond decided to side across from you. This pleased you. He should treat you as you were, a great lady of the realm, not some little girl he could chastise. "I understand your grievances these past few months. The war has been hard on us all. But you must understand my wife has been out of sorts as of late." You did not care. "That does not concern me. I expected to be treated as befits my station. Yet Princess Ellyn spreads rumors and throws mud on my reputation." Prince Aemond's fist clenched ever so slightly. "I am aware that my wife has been tackles as of late-" "Tackles is not quite the word I would use." Prince Aemond's first came down, right onto the arm of his chair. You jumped back when a resounding "crack" echoed across the room. There was a fire in his eyes that suddenly frightened you. He stood up, looming over you. In one stride Prince Aemond's hands seized the arms of your chair. His face was inches from your own.

"Your spite, My Lady, is quite something. I never would have thought it of you." A shaky breath shook your body which had suddenly run cold. Prince Aemond was not done. "I would turn you out after what has transpired. If it was not for my mothers remaining fondness for you I would." You wished you could say this was little more than words. Pain came roaring back with a vengeance. A year ago, would Prince Aemond have spoken this way to you? The thin veneer of detachment you had worn was stripped away. Now you felt lesser than ever before. It was one thing for Ellyn to rage at you, quite another for it to be a former friend. "Then you are as fickle as I thought. Though I suppose that is a common quality of a kinslayer." Prince Aemond shot back as if you in turn had struck him. Ragged breaths escaped him. There was anger in both your eyes. Suddenly Prince Aemond darted towards and seized you by the arms. "Aemond!" You cried out. His grip was bruising as he hauled you out of the chair. The babe in your belly lurched with his force. The wind was immediately knocked out of you. "Let go of me!" You snarled, attempting to wriggle out of his grasp. But the Prince was stronger. "I will not have you calling me kinslayer. Not you." The last words stumbled out of his mouth. They carried a weight that caused you to pause. Your eyes met.

The momentary tableau was broken when you broke away. Gone was the coolness of your eyes, replaced by hot tears. "Leave." It was all you could say. You wanted to be left alone. But Prince Aemond ignored you. "I never asked for this." He said. The momentary anger was gone, replaced by a look of utter defeat. "And I never asked for this either. And yet you discarded me as if I were less than nothing. So do as you have done these past months and leave me." Yet here he still stood. "Did you ever think I wanted to?" Prince Aemond took a step towards you, though this time not in anger. "I doubt it bothered you." Anger clenched your belly when he had the audacity to look hurt. You would rather he be awful to you. It would have made it so much easier on your consciousness. "You know I have duties." He said. And it hurt because it was true, there was little he could have done. It was also not his fault you loved him and he did not. That was the worst part. He had as much freedom as yourself and the guilt suddenly weighed on you. But your hurt was still great and as so often your emotions took precedence. This time around your pain won out. "Please, just go." The conversation was cut short. Perhaps if things had gone different your life would have gone a different way. Not this time around.

Prince Aemond finally left. He was no longer glowering down at you but diminished, exhausted, and looking older than his twenty years. You watched him go and only then did you break down a weep.

At least you had your ladies. Lady Dara especially has a joy, for she always had gossip and enjoyed wine and sweets. Although you would have to abstained from drinking the cakes were free for taking. Lady Clarissa had become very quiet and even though you attempted to comfort her she abstained from divulgence. From what you heard Ellyn was still bedridden. Apparently your words had done Ellyn quite the turn. "Her skin is an unpleasant hue and some of her piss is..." "Is what?" You demanded impatiently. The maid leaned in close. "Is black, My Lady." Had your words truly done so much damage? Although it should be mentioned Ellyn had not look good before her collapse. If this had been another woman you would have felt sorry. The young ladies of Ellyn's retinue were no longer so bold. They took care to avoid you these days. Perhaps they were mindful for the future. A future where your power could preside over their destinies. Now, they might have realized that you might determine their futures. King Aegon was unlikely to have any more children, and if Ellyn died then Prince Aemond would be free to marry. As Y/n Tyrell, a relative of the Tyrell family might not be seen as a suitable bride to the second prince, the Dowager Lady of Casterly Rock might be seen in a different light. The notion did come to mind. Once the idea of marrying Prince Aemond might have excited you, now it was a mere speculation.

There were more pressing matters. Rhaenyra Targaryen had vowed to kill you. Even in this great place you were not safe. Rhaenyra could take Syrax and fly up to Harrenhal, doing what her ancestor Aegon the Conqueror had done over a hundred years ago. But no wings echoed in the sky. Soon, you would know why.

"Go back!" The words were howling in your mind. Between sleeping and waking the voices howling in your room. A burning rubbed against your wrists, the babe turned in your belly. There was only darkness. No images of blood or trees. Only the encompassing darkness. The voices were telling you to turn back. And suddenly Weirwood trees smeared in blood burst up in front of you. And now out of the darkness you were thrust back into that bloody forest. It surrounded you, seeking to drag you into its depths. A great bell went off and it went still. A darkness fell over the forest, a great full moon rising. A large Weirwood tree started to move, twisting inwards onto itself. You staggered back as it morphed into a little person. Except it was not a person. Smaller than an adult, its skin was green and eyes wide. All seeing, the creature gazed upon you. "Time must turn."

"My Lady!" Lady Clarissa had shaken you awake. The sound of shutters being slammed closed shook the room. "What were those shutters doing open!' Lady Mari's irate voice made your head throb. You sat up with the help of Lady Clarissa. She pressed a cup of some barley smelling liquid to your lips. With a sigh you reclined back onto the pillows. Lady Mari stormed out only to come back in a moment later, Alys Rivers on her heel. "This....this fool opened the shutters!" You had never seen Lady Mari so angry. Alys Rivers did not seem perturbed. "Fresh air is good." Alys Rivers justified. "Not for pregnant women!" "My Lady, I recon I know more about pregnancy than you." Alys Rivers nonchalantly retorted. "I am well Lady Mari." Lady Mari looked ready to argue, but seemed to think better of it. So she relented and dismissed herself. Lady Clarissa busied herself with a wooden box of herbs she had brought from Casterly Rock. Alys Rivers seemed intrigued, for she advanced forward and peered in. "You have a good collection. Who taught you?" 'My mother." Replied Lady Clarissa. You looked up at the canopy overhead. What would your mother have taught you had she lived? Rarely in recent years had you thought of Amelia Tarley. She had given you life but had been little more than a shadow. If you died in the childbed, as so many women did, would your child think of you? Even Queens fell in this most womanly of battles. Queen Alyssa bad been cut open, as had Queen Aemma. Even if you survived the child might perished, like with Rhaenyra who accounts said was ill after. Would you be lucky? Childbirth had no remedy, so ironclad security of your safety. The place of birth would likely be here, in these haunted halls. This place claimed the lines of all those who ruled here. At least this was not your castle so perhaps the ghosts would leave you alone.

But ghosts were not the only otherworldly things that stalked the halls. And Alys Rivers had no intention of leaving you alone.

Despite having your ladies back Alys River and Marisa stayed on in service. Marisa remained hard working and Alys Rivers being mysterious as ever. When you woke from those odd dreams Alys Rivers was by the fire. It was waking from one of these dreams that grave new came. At the hour of the wolf you were woken. In your dream little green children darted in and out between trees. Sometimes you were able to make out what they said. Their favourites were "turn back" and "time". When your eyes opened the fading imprint of a tree slowly disappeared as the waking world summoned you. Gravely Lady Mari approached you. Thoughts ran through your mind. Who had died? For someone surely had. "Casterly Rock was invaded. They managed to repel the Ironborn from the castle but they have sacked Lannisport. Two thousand are dead, hundreds of women have been abducted. The late Lord Lannister's uncle was killed as was his (Lord Lannister) mistress Lady Redwyne with her youngest daughter." The words stumbled out and you were left stunned. Thousands dead or abducted. Although there was no sadness for Lady Redwyne you pitied the babe. Your deceased husbands youngest bastard had only been a little girl. What monster could kill a child?

"Is there any word from Kings Landing?" "The Usurper Rhaenyra is on poorer terms with Ser Corlys Velaryon. But they still hold firm." You threw the covers off you and picked up a silk robe. "Thank you. May I have a moment?" Lady Mari took that as dismissal and curtsied. You did not dismiss Alys Rivers. Going to the window you looked down. At the seventh month your belly had expanded still further. The baby was now kicking. The first time had been when Alys Rivers had been helping you out of the tub. When her thin pale hand rested on your belly the baby kicked out. The pair of you stared in wonder. Since then the babe was busy. It brought relief that the baby was at least healthy. Worries about a stillbirth seemed more distant these days.

You thought of all the mothers who had lost their children, either through death or kidnapping. How women bore the loss was beyond you. And frankly, you never wanted to. "You are concerned." Alys Rivers appeared by your side. The two of you stood there looking down at the forest bellow. "I am. I pity the mothers who have lost their children." Alys Rivers tensed and now you wished the topic had never been broached. They said Alys Rivers had nursed children. In order to do she she must have been with child. But never once had a child been seen. You wondered, if Alys Rivers, had lost children, how she bore it. The desire to ask was there. But to ask such a question felt cruel.

"Would you like to read, My Lady." It was less of a question, as often you asked Alys Rivers to grab one book or another. You gave her leave and called for Marisa to bring food. Shortly later you were curled in a chair eating and reading away. This book was one of the older books in the castles library. It had come all the way from Winterfell as a book by a Stark lord. It was on older things that the sept might consider borderline heretical. Fascinated, you flipped through the pages observing every symbol. Someone had left in a bookmark. Curiously, you went to that page. On its surface was the drawing of a circle, a carved face in its center. Engravings of symbols marked the outside of the circle. According to ancient northmen this symbol represented time. Once there had even been a God created by the northmen, a difference from their many nameless Gods. Of course it fell out of fashion. But the symbol had been used by certain houses, to remind those of the shortness of time and anything related to it. The words "Ice and Fire" came to mind. You still had not worked out what it meant. But they stuck with you.

Prince Aemond left with Ser Criston Cole, Ellyn's health was spiraling and your due date drew closer. Another month passed in tense silence. At eight months you were so close to giving birth. Your room was getting ready for the birth. Several midwives and been brought in along with two wet-nurses. A maester arrived to give advice along with a septa. You spent most days of laying in bed in a crowded room. There was not a moment you spent alone. Lady Mari and Lady Dara spent time sewing by the fire. Lady Clarissa and Alys Rivers hovered over herbs, the septa giving them dirty looks. "Herbs accomplish not what the Seven provide." Was her favourite saying. Once a day the maester would come and ask questions, but was not allowed to touch you. The three midwives presided with Lady Mari over the arrangements. They said all you had to do was lay back and rest. But restlessness stirred within you. Being forced to stay in this room nearly drove you mad.

"The mother comforts all good women. She gives them strength through their trials." The septa read out of the Seven Stars. Tired, you laid on the bed. These words were memorized by heart as you learned them at Elinor's knee. Once they had meant something, and you wished they still did. So much of you had been lost this year. The girl from Kings Landing was dead. Left behind was a tired woman who could no longer find comfort in the Seven.

Despite you reclusiveness words from the outside world still made their way in. Prince Aemond had set the Riverlands ablaze with Vaehgar. Lady Baela Targaryen had been taken prisoner by King Aegon who chased her on dragon back, killing her dragon. You never would have thought it of the King. Lazy and given to vice, King Aegon had never been one for formative action. But he had regained some strength and broken both legs in the battle with Lady Baela. Now she languished in prison, dragonless. "Daemon must be frantic." You thought. It gave you some pleasure to think that Daemon was wracked with fear for his child. After what he had put Helaena through, what he had put you through, there was no pity left for him. Not that you bore personal ill will towards Lady Baela, but your hatred for the Rouge Prince was great.

"The whole realm is in flames." Lady Clarissa looked up from her work. She was pale with the hue of someone plagued with insomnia. It alarmed you how haggard she looked these days. Something had happened yet no one would reveal anything. You did notice Alys Rivers stuck by her side. You supposed Alys Rivers had the ability to ingratiate herself towards others. Some people were like that. 🤍

Time slowly passed by, the time of the birth came. But for Ellyn it was the hour of her death.

The babe would be ready soon. The ninth month was upon you and the castle held its breath. Not just for you but Ellyn Baratheon. By now the woman was throwing up black bile. You wondered if it was poison. Who hated Ellyn enough to kill her? It was worrying that there were those who might point the finger at you. Many new the rivalry that had transpired. When she died there would be those who would think it was you. Your fears were told to Lady Mari who told you not to pay them any mind. But you wondered if she was only saying that to keep you calm. You might have gone to Prince Aemond but your pride was great. Exhaustion had also greatly depleted your strength. You could hardly get up much less run about.

That night you slept peacefully in bed. Lady Clarissa slept beside you that night. A midwife rested in a chair by the fire. The last thing you saw before rest was the full moon, and the last thing you heard was the rustling of leaves. The last thing you felt was the stirring of the babe in your womb.

You waded through a sea of blood, dead butterflies floating on the surface. Their wings had been blue, but was died red. On you was a heavy green cape. It weighed you down. You stooped down and collected a butterfly. It lay there still. The blood swirled before you and Helaena rose from its depths. "You will change your coat." Then she was gone, back under the waves. It splashed your green cloak, staining it with unsightly splotches. On you walked through the blood. Weirwood trees stood every few feet. Faces stuck out at you, their faces unreadable. Looking down at your wrists you noticed thin lines of blood on them. The ground underneath you quaked and you stumbled forward. Into a tree you went. When you looked ahead the symbol of time was engraved on the bark. The red blood from your wrists stained it red. Thin trails of blood ebbed into the wood. It dripped down, your gaze following. Between your legs was a pool of blood.

The pain woke you. With a cry you alerted Lady Clarissa and the midwife. Lady Clarissa pulled back the sheet and gasped. Blood was pooling between your legs. Your body was both hot and cold, a deep ache that could have crimpled anyone emanated where the baby was. Alys Rivers suddenly burst in followed by the other two midwives. Lastly Lady Mari and Lady Dara rushed in. You pulled you to your feet and quickly changed your nightgown. With a midwife on each side they walked you up and down. Meanwhile the sheets on your bed was changed. When Lady Mari attempted to close the shutters you cried out "don't!". All day you were forced to labor. The only thing keeping you sane was the frantic rustling of the branches. Voices whispered to you through the pain, pushing you onwards. It carried you onwards to night. The sun set and you wondered if this would be your last sunset. Where you doomed never to see it rise again? They finally allowed you onto the bed. "She is ready. Get the chair." Hoisted off the bed, they had you on a birthing chair, legs spread. Gritting your teeth you bore down. Blood spurted onto the ground. "Almost there." Alys Rivers was beside you. Her hand rested on your arm. "It hurts." You were breathless and exhausted. "I know. But you have done so well. Just a bit longer. Your mother has done this. Laura Reed was brave. And so will you." A scream tore through you and a great force was pushed through you. Leaning back, you groaned as the weight which had been borne for months was lifted. A thin cry tore through the air as the hour of the ghosts came. Alys Rivers helped you sit up and the reality sunk in. You were a mother. Tears welled in your eyes as the newborn, your baby, cried and squirmed in the midwifes arms. She looked up at you, looking nearly as exhausted but happy. "It's a boy. You have a son My Lady."

You cradled your son, all the ladies crowded around the witness the first breaths of the new Lord of Casterly Rock. As this new boys life begun, Ellyn Baratheon's drew to a close.

Notes: I'm back! I had to take a break due to being sick, school and having writers block. I am also making a few edits for continuity sakes, but nothing too extreme that will change the story. But now that this month is finally drawing to a close scheduling is back on track so expect more frequent updates. Part two for this series is now being worked on so that it will be ready right after part one. Merry Christmas /Happy Holidays/ Happy New Year everyone!

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[flowery-mess]

WINGS AND EMBERS

chapter 1

Summary: You and Bradley met for the first time when accident happened on the base. Bob and Nat had emergency landing, because their plane was on fire. At the scene yours and Bradleys paths crossed for the first time and since then your relationship was full of embers, and planes.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!! light smut involving dry humping / emergency landing of plane, plane accident involving fire / alcohol / English is not my first language

Pairing: firefighter!Y/N x Bradley Bradshaw

Word count: 7,5k

„Right engine on fire!“ Bob says into his helmet mic when he sees the smoke and flashes of red and orange from his and Phoenix’s plane.

“Bob, Phoenix, make an emergency landing right now.” the dispatcher echoes through their helmet settings. “I repeat, Bob and Phoenix come back to land.”

“I don’t know if we can make it to the runway, the plane is getting out of my control.” Phoenix managed to say before she and Bob smelled the smoke in their cockpit. “I think you should call the fire department.”

That was the last thing everyone heard before loud crash was heard at the end of the runway. Rest of the Dagger squad along with Maverick just watching from the hangar as few men ran to get Phoenix and Bob out of the plane. Preferably in two whole pieces.

Everyone held their breath for what felt like thousands of hours. The plane was fine, just this morning everyone had to do their check up on everything, they had mechanics look as well. No one expected this.

Bob and Phoenix made it out of the smoke show that was going on just a seconds before everyone heard sirens and saw two big trucks coming in the way of the plane that was crushed and too far gone.

Two big engine trucks with number 16 on their sides, blasting their sirens and firefighters already on the edge of their seats to jump out and do what they need to do.

You can do it. Don’t panic. You can do it. Don’t panic. was replaying in your head like a mantra. This was your first call since moving to San Diego and it made you sick. You became part of the station quickly, finding new friends in your colleagues, but you had yet to be on call with them. On call for a fucking navy aircraft being on fire. What a great start.

You knew how it should go, in your head. You were scared how it will be in the reality that was closer and closer as you stopped just a few metres away from the plane.

You saw one of the engines whip the flames, smoke covering the rest of the plane and people desperately trying to distinguish the fire with their fire extinguishers. It looked almost ironic. It takes one person to control the plane generally, but it takes a second to turn it around, needing dozens of people to take over the control again.

You’re not alone, Nathan has your back. You’re not alone, Nathan has your back. Another mantra you tried to calm yourself down with. Nathan is your supervisor for a period of time until everyone, including you, is sure you can handle things alone. You don’t doubt your skills or experience, even though you don’t have many, yet. But you hoped your first call would be something smaller, that you could gain confidence to do call like this, bigger and important ones.

“Y/N, I’m going to be your shadow, you’re the commanding officer for our part of the job on scene. I will step in only if it’s needed. Do you copy?”

“Copy.” oh fucking great was the first thing that you thought after this little exchange with Nathan.

You know you will be thankful for throwing you in the water like this after, but now you were scared. Scared that you won’t know what to do, what to say or maybe just pass out completely.

“Parker, Y/L/N, you two handle your things. Thompson, Collins and Brooks you get the plane from right side. Walker, Hayes and Bennett you go from left side. Miller and Lewis you handle the hoses and back up if anyone needs you. Reed, you go with Parker and Y/L/N and get someone from the base to show you where we can get water, if we ran out of ours. Does everyone copy?” The captain, John Murphy, ended his talk to the whole team and wave of “copy captain” was heard through our transmitters.

Thompson, Travis Thompson, seated in the other car showed you thumbs up from the window that was next to him. Travis and you quickly became friends when you moved to San Diego. You were assigned to one of the flats the station provided for cheap money for the fire fighters. Which was fine by you for the start, but Travis took that as his chance to offer you room in his big ass apartment. He recently broke up with his boyfriend and said he didn’t want to be alone in there, but also you living there with him would stop him from moving another boyfriend in there too soon, again. So you agreed, moving in the same day. You quickly became close and you swear it made your start at the station easier. Showing you thumbs up and mouthing ‘You got it.’ was his way of supporting you, because he could saw the look on your face.

“Okay team, let’s go.” your captain’s words put you out of your daydreaming and back on the ground of hard reality.

You put your helmet on the same moment your feet touched the ground. You looked over your shoulder at your team already in action, with Murphy’s supervision. So you motioned to Nathan and started walking towards the group of people, aviators you assumed.

“Hello, my name is Y/N Y/L/N and this is my colleague lieutenant Parker. Is anyone hurt? Who was on the plane?” you immediately started asking the right questions, finding confidence in your actions.

“I’m captain Mitchell. Two aviators were in the plane, we managed to get them out. Doctor from the base took them in his office, but we didn’t get any information since then. But they’re taken care of.” the eldest man of the group started talking to you.

“Okay captain. You should send the group of people that was trying to extinguish the fire to his office too. Anyone else needs doctor’s attention?” you asked the group, looking them one by one, searching for any signs of discomfort.

Until you met two hazel eyes and caught your attention for a second longer than everyone else’s. Man in his late 30’s you’d say, light brown hair with hint of curls in them and worry in his eyes. You two kept eye contact for what felt like hours, but sadly was just a few seconds.

When you didn’t find any signs of pain or discomfort, you continued with your instructions. “My people are doing their best to handle the situation as quickly as possible, but I will need you, captain, and your people to move somewhere else, in case the fire spreads. Let’s get you in building A3.”

Building A3 was far enough from the runway, looking like the best option for a shelter right now. You had map of the base, which you studied quickly on the way here.

“No one’s hurt, two aviators from the plain are looked at by the doctor, moving rest of the group to building A3 captain.” You spoke to your transmitter to update your captain on your actions as you started to lead the group in direction of building A3.

Everyone was quiet on the way there, still in shock. Some members of the group sat down, some couldn’t keep still as they paced from the window to the door.

You were happy about how you handled the situation so far, but didn’t want to show it too soon, in respect to the group of aviators in front of you.

Everyone kept quiet, waiting for the information from your captain. You watched the big watch on the wall move to show it’s been 30 minutes since you arrived, 20 since you entered this room. The only thing you could hear was loud stamps of the big boots the men were wearing as they continued to walk back and forth.

You searched for the hazel eyes you noticed back at the hangar. But you only found the man’s back, as he was looking out of the window, hands behind his head as he didn’t know what to do with them. He was wearing his khaki uniform, but you could still see his back muscles through the material when he flexed his hands. You wanted him to turn around, just to see his eyes once again. But he didn’t.

You kept switching your gaze between the watch and Nathan. He only gave you a nod and small smile, to silently tell you that you did a good job so far.

“Fire’s out. I repeat, fire is out.” Everyone in the room turned their heads to you and Nathan when they heard your captain.

You could see the relief take over their faces.

“Can we leave this building now?” the blonde one asked you.

Instead of answering him, you talked to your captain.

“Can we dismiss the group we have with us captain? Or do you want us to take them back to the scene?” you asked.

“You can dismiss them to their captain to proceed with the situation furthermore.”

“Copy.” You said as you let your hand down from your shoulder, where your transmitter was.

“Captain Mitchell, you and your people are free to go. Thank you all for your cooperation. We hope your colleagues are okay.” you said in the direction of captain Pete Mitchell.

“Thank you for your service, you and your team. We owe you one.” The Navy captain came to shake your hand.

After that everyone left the room, only the brown-haired man with a mustache stopped by the two of you, to shake your hands too.

“No need for that, it’s our job,” You said while he held your smaller hand in his, looking at his uniform for a search of his name “Lieutenant Bradshaw.” You added with a slight smirk.

You saw the corner of his mouth raise a bit too, pink covering his cheeks as he let go of your hand.

Before Bradley completely left the room, he could hear Nathan tell you “Good job for your first time kid. Wouldn’t do it better myself.” And when he looked over his shoulder, he saw big smile on your face and Nathan giving you side hug with small ruffle of your hair. He couldn’t help the smile on his face at that sight, guessing you weren’t in this field for long, he felt what you could call proud? Even though he doesn’t know you, he knew you did a good job too.

-----

“Oh hello there, you bad ass woman.” You turned your head just to see Travis standing in the doorway of your office.

“Oh shut up Trav, I just did my job.”

“I just did my job.” He repeated after you and tried to mock your voice. “But really, I could see the worry in your eyes when we arrived there. I mean it, you did a good job.”

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help the smile on your face. You knew you did good job, but it was nice to hear it from someone else.

“I think that’s a reason to go out and celebrate!”

“And I think that it’s just your way to force me out so you could get laid and abandon me at the bar,” You were very quick to answer, remembering the last time you and Travis went out. He got laid, you got lost and had to sleep in your office on a couch, because you didn’t remember your address yet. “just like you did last time.”

“I’m never gonna hear the end of that, am I?” Trav looked at you with a frown.

“Nop.” Highlighting the p, you laughed at Travis’s face.

“Okay we can go out, but not tonight. When the shift’s over the only place I want to go is my bed. Tomorrow is okay with you?”

Before Travis could give you an answer Matt and Olivia arrived at your office door.

“What’s happening tomorrow?” Olivia asked with a spark in her eyes.

“Liv, I was just suggesting that we should go out and celebrate Y/N’s first call. You two coming?” you both knew what the answer is going to be. Liv is the biggest party animal you’ve met in your life so far and Matt is just so in love with her that he would follow her anywhere.

“Tell us place and time and we’ll be there.” Liv didn’t disappoint.

“Hard deck, 8PM tomorrow.” Trav said with yet another smirk on his face.

“Uuuh I see what you’re trying to do there Travis, we will be there.” This time Matt answered before the two of them left.

“And what exactly you are trying to do here, Travis?” it seemed like you were the only one to not understand what was going on. And because Travis can’t keep anything to himself even if his life would depend on it, he shamelessly tells you.

“Hard deck is a bar next to the beach, close to the naval base. Like very close.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You don’t understand what am I trying to say?”

“No clue.”

“It’s a place that’s filled with aviators every Friday and Saturday. And actually, every other day too. But the point is, you need to get laid, so we’re going to use todays call to make an impression and I’m sure the aviators will find their way to thank you.” Travis continued before you could answer “We’re leaving the house at 7,30 be ready!”

“I don’t need to get laid!” you yelled out so he could hear you in the hallway.

You didn’t need to get laid, but Travis tried to convince you otherwise for some time now. He said you act like his grandma, you work, clean the house or go for a walk. When you two go out you never really flirt with anyone. You’re shy and you’re not the type to do a one-night stands.

But then you thought about certain aviator you met today on the call. Lieutenant Bradshaw. You would like to see his pretty face again, that’s true. But what if he has a girlfriend? Wife? He looked at least few years older than you. Does he have kids? If he does, then he probably won’t be at the Hard deck tomorrow. But what if he doesn’t?

You shake your head and the thoughts away as you start typing in your computer to finish the paperwork so you can head home to get a much needed sleep.

-----

Waking up at 11AM is not a thing you could do every day with your job, so you made sure to stay a bit longer in the comfortable bed before you got up to make yourself breakfast.

“Good morning.” Travis greeted you in a singing tone, while flipping pancakes.

“Good morning.” You shuffled around him to get yourself a glass from the cabinet. “Can I have some?”

“Only if you leave with a pilot tonight.” He looked at you, dead serious look on his face.

“I guess I’ll do my toast then.” You answered with an ironic smile.

“Of course you can have some. But only if you tell me if the aviators you met yesterday were hot, you can do that.” He knows how to make you laugh.

“Well, I didn’t talk to them, only to their captain. But they all looked hot in their uniforms. I’m not sure if any of them were you type tho.”

“I don’t have a type. I just know when I see.” Sassy answer as always.

“Of course you do. Do they wear those uniforms when they go out?” you asked.

“Y/N, do we wear uniforms when we go to Dean’s?” he looked at you like you just asked what’s 2+2.

“But our uniforms are heavy and big Travis.”

“Some of them do on a workday, when they go for a drink after work. But not when they go out on a weekend.”

“What a shame.” You sighed when a memory of certain lieutenant crossed your mind.

“You’re not telling me something.” Travis looked at you with a look.

“What?” you tried to play dumb.

“Yesterday you didn’t seem interested and now it’s a shame that they don’t go out in their uniforms? Did someone caught your eye yesterday?”

“I’ll tell you only if you pinky promise me, that you won’t say a word about it tonight.”

He offered you his pinky while you started talking about handsome lieutenant Bradshaw. You could only hope he will keep his mouth shut at the Hard deck later.

-----

“Y/N you look so good.” Liv had smile on her face while checking out your outfit.

For tonight you chose black leather shorts with black tights underneath, black top that you tucked into the shorts, high leather boots and loose leather jacket on top, if it gets cold later at night. Everyone knows your color is black, you rarely wear different colors outside of work. But your personality is nothing alike black color. You decided to curl your hair and wear decent eyeliner with red lipstick, something that’s significant for you too.

“Thank you. Are you two matching or am I drunk already?” you asked the couple infront of you with a laugh. You had pre drinks at home with Travis, but you were not drunk for sure, it was just funny to see big guy as Matt in matching outfits with his girlfriend.

“I had to beg him to wear this shirt, so you better say we look cute or I’ll kill you.” Liv said with a death stare.

“I’ll go get drinks.” You turned to leave the table before Liv could say anything else, you’re the worst liar and you’re also not fan of couple matching outfits.

At the bar you scanned the crowd while you waited for yours and Travis’s drinks. You don’t usually go to Hard Deck, you and all the firefighters have similar place like this, it’s called Dean’s bar, so you don’t recognise anyone’s faces.

Slight frown forms on your face once you realize the one person you were looking for is nowhere to be seen.

“Here you go.” The bartender get’s your attention back as she hands you two glasses with different liquors in them. Beer for Travis, white wine for you. You don’t usually go for wine on a night out, but tonight you felt like the tipsiness and confidence from the sweet wine will be appreciated. The headache tomorrow not so much though.

With a thank you, you turned around to find the table your mates were sitting at and you made your way to them.

“Beer for you my darling.” You used this nickname for Travis a lot it became an inside joke for you two.

One night at Dean’s you made Travis pretend you two were couple, because certain firefighter from different station didn’t take no for an answer so you two played a couple. You called Travis ‘darling’ like a hundred times under the fear and nerves from the man that was trying to get your attention.

The bar was getting more crowded as the night went on, you were on a third glass of wine when you heard Travis go “Is that the man you were talking about?”

And there he was. Bradley Bradshaw in his ‘night out’ outfit that caught your eye. You saw him only in a uniform, so you didn’t know what he likes to wear outside of work, but this wouldn’t be your bet if you had to place one. He was wearing blue jeans that hugged his legs in the right places, white t shirt with a Hawaiian shirt over it.

He scanned the place the same way you did at the bar earlier that night, but once he spotted his friends he made his over to them. His gaze didn’t make it to your table, so he never saw you.

He would be looking for you the same way you were looking for him, but he wouldn’t think of you choosing Hard Deck for a night out.

“It sure is.” You answered Travis as your eyes never left Bradley’s back as he made his way over to a table full of aviators.

“So what’s the plan?” Travis nudged your shoulder with his.

“The plan?”

“Yeah. I hope you didn’t plan on just staring at him the whole night.”

“Well no, but I also didn’t prepare a plan.”

You wanted to talk to him. You wanted to get to know him. You wanted to ask him about his friends, if they’re okay. But you were not the one to make the first move, you were shy.

“Good thing is he just came here, so we have time to make one.”

“I don’t need a plan Trav, this place isn’t that big, if he sees me and wants to talk, he will. I’m not making the first move, you should know that by now.”

Travis tried to argue with you, but there was no point in that. In fact, you were scared of rejection, so even with the wine in your blood the only thing you could do was stare into his back and hope he’d feel your eyes burning a hole in his back.

-----

“Look who I found.” You, Liv and Matt turned your heads towards Travis, who had a brown haired woman next to him. They both saw confusion on your faces as they started to explain who this woman is.

“This is Nat, she’s one of the pilots from the plane from the call we went on earlier this week.” Travis was never this happy to talk about a woman, but you quickly realized why it changed just now. It was his plan. His plan to get you and Bradley together tonight.

“Oh, hi! How are you feeling? I guess it wasn’t anything serious if you’re here tonight.” Matt asked her.

“I’m good, so is Bob, the other aviator. We stayed at the hospital for 24 hours, but yeah it wasn’t anything serious. But still, I wanted to say thank you, it was scary as hell.” Nat answered with a thankful smile on her face. “I told Travis that you should join us, I’m sure the guys won’t mind. And also I owe you a round of shots.”

You should see the look on Travis’s face, like a child on Christmas morning.

Before anyone could protest, Travis was dragging you all to the other side of the bar where the aviators were seated.

“Everyone, these are some of the firefighters that saved our asses, I’m sure you won’t mind them joining us.” Nat made them bring more chairs for you and the three others to sit and then started introducing everyone.

You were sure you can’t remember that many names and call signs, so you gave up at the second guy Nat pointed at.

“That’s Bradley right there, next to him is Hangman.” You looked at Bradley at the same moment he looked at you. You exchanged smiles and he gave you a little wave. You didn’t listen to Nat listing others names as you and Bradley continued looking at each other.

You didn’t know if it was the wine talking, but you felt something. You felt like if a literal spark jumped from you to Bradley. You two couldn’t help stealing glances at each other through the night. You haven’t talked to each other directly at the table, but your eyes did the job.

When you left the table to go to the bathroom, you felt Bradley’s gaze following you. That’s why you weren’t really surprised to see him waiting for you outside the bathroom.

“Oh there you are.” He said awkwardly.

You didn’t know what was the right answer to that, so you just went with simple “Hi.”

“Hi, ugh, would you maybe like to have a drink outside? I feel like there’s zero chances that we could have a conversation at that table.” Was he shy? It definitely seemed like it.

“I’d like that, yeah.”

And that’s how you ended up at the beach, sitting on a bench with another full glass of wine Bradley got you along with beer for himself.

“So, you’re new here huh?” Bradley started.

“How could you tell? Is it that obvious?”

“I heard colleague saying something about doing a good job for your first time back at the base, so I figured you’re either new here in San Diego or you’re new to the job. But based on the fact I never saw you around makes me think the first option is the right one.” Oh boy so he was attentive person.

“You’re right, I got transferred here just two months ago. This was my first call here. I work for the crisis management, so most of the time I’m in my office, I go on calls only when I’m needed at the scene.”

“That sounds like a cool job. Also a safe one.”

“Yes, it’s safer than being firefighter. When I’m on scene I never really go into the danger, I usually go the opposite way, just like the other day at the base.” Bradley nodded at your answer, sipping his beer. The way his lips hugged the top of the beer glass caught your attention and you had to mentally smack yourself for thinking about the things it made you feel.

“And you? You’re from here or were you transferred here too?” you asked Bradley in return.

“I was sent here few years ago for a mission, stayed here since then.”

“Now you’re the one to talk about a cool job. All mystery with the mission like it’s a day to day occurrence.” That made Bradley laugh.

“It is for aviators. I’m not telling you the details, it’s boring, trust me.” Bradley’s goal wasn’t really to talk your head off with details about a mission you wouldn’t understand.

“Okay, tell me something about yourself then.”

“What would you like to know?” everything, you wanted to know everything about this man that was sitting next to you, currently looking you straight to your eyes.

“Why is you call sign Rooster?”

“Of course, that’s everyone’s favorite question.” Bradley leaned back with a laugh. “My dad was aviator too, his call sign was Goose, so I went from there.” Oh, what a good choice of question you thought, after he answered. You really made him talk about his dad in the first few minutes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know that, I shouldn’t have ask that.” You were afraid that you opened something that he didn’t want to talk about.

“No you’re good, there’s no way you could’ve know that.” Bradley reassured you. “My turn now. I know I should not ask for woman’s age, but I feel like you’re few years younger than me, so I feel like it’s good thing to ask before something weird happens.”

That didn’t offend you, because he was right, he looked like he got few years on you.

“I’m 27, you?”

“I’m 37. Now you have a last chance to back out of this.”

“Out of what?” you teasingly asked Bradley, knowing what he meant. You both couldn’t help those little smirks forming on your faces, that just confirmed your theory from earlier that there is some spark between the two of you.

“Out of me asking you to come back tomorrow. And then maybe asking you out on a date. Who knows.”

“I think I can handle 10 years.” You were glad that the sun was set for hours now, so Bradley couldn’t see your red cheeks. You felt not only your mind, but also your body attracted to him.

You two got lost in getting to know each other until you noticed your glasses have been empty for a while now, and also the sounds from the Hard Deck becoming quitter every minute now.

“Oh shit.” You cursed when you looked at your phone. You saw missed calls from Trav, Liv and Matt. Messages asking where the hell were you and that they hope you’re not dead.

“Someone missing you?” Bradley sounded nervous, afraid that maybe he overstepped something you forgot to mention, like a boyfriend.

“My friends that I came with, I never let them know where I went. They’re going to kill me.” Bradley was hoping you didn’t see him let out the big breath he was holding in, remembering you came with a group and not a boyfriend.

You started standing up, collecting your things from the bench. For a minute he thought you’re going to run away from him, but then you turned around to face him. “So are you going to?”

“Going to…?” he repeated your question, not knowing where you were going with that.

“Are you going to ask me to come here again tomorrow, Bradley Bradshaw?”

“I am asking you, Y/N Y/L/N, will you come here again tomorrow?”

You laughed at the phrasing of the question.

“I will.” And with that you left Bradley at the bench and run inside the bar to find Travis worried sick about you.

“Please at least tell me you got laid.”

“Oh shut up Travis and take me home.” You took his hand in yours and led the way out of the bar.

-----

You knew last night that drinking wine will have consequences in the morning, but you still hated yourself when you were sitting at the cold floor in your bathroom, waiting if your stomach will either calm down or empty itself.

Last night Travis really tried to get details from you, but you found fun in the way how his face looked when you told him you’re keeping Bradley as a secret for now. You didn’t even tell him about the plans you made for tonight, because chances are that he would make Matt and Liv go out with him again.

Laying on the bathroom floor you also realized you never agreed on a time you should meet tonight and that you also never exchanged phone numbers. So you could only hope that Bradley will show up tonight.

-----

You felt like a teenager sneaking out of the house when you tried to tiptoe from your room to the door without Travis noticing. Sadly for you, Travis has eyes and ears everywhere.

“Where do you think your going young lady?” and now you really felt like your mother caught you sneaking out, when you turned to see Travis standing with hands on his hips and head tilted just a bit to the side.

“I am going on a date?” you said more like a question than a fact, because you didn’t really know what tonight meant.

“With who?”

“With Bradley.”

“Oh really?” simple mention of Bradley’s name changed Travis from your mother to your best friend really quickly.

“He asked me to come again tonight. Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“I think it’s a great idea. Go. Leave. Now. You don’t want to be late. Don’t come back.” He literally pushed you out of the door.

You stayed loyal to your favorite color black, but chose to wear a dress tonight, with a V neck, showing your chest a little, cute ruffles on the sleeves and they ended just above your knees. You let your hair down and did your make up the same way as last night.

When you entered Hard Deck alone you felt wave of anxiety wash over you. You tried to look for Bradley, but you had no luck. You didn’t feel comfortable staying inside just by yourself, so you after you got yourself a drink you made your way over to the bench from last night.

Not even 10 minutes later you heard someone coming in your way, so with hopeful eyes that the someone is Bradley, you turned around. And there he was. His outfit the same, just different color of his Hawaiian shirt.

“I was starting to think you’re going to stood me up.” You let your thoughts out before you could think.

“Me? Never, I’m a gentleman.” Bradley stood in front of you, which made you tilt your head back, so your eyes could meet his.

Bradley’s breath got caught in his throat when he saw they way you look from his height, how your lips are just a bit parted and your eyes are looking at him with a lust.

“I got us a bottle of wine you had yesterday if that’s okay?” he said as he showed you the bottle.

You looked at your glass that had rum and coke in it, then back at the bottle in his hand and your head was back in your bathroom this morning.

“I was actually going for a cocktail tonight, after I spent the whole morning in my bathroom, but I guess wine it is.” As you finished the drink in your hand.

“Oh sorry I should’ve asked first, I can get you something else then.”

“No Bradley, I’ll take the wine, it’s okay.” You actually find it nice that he brought something he knew you liked, so what if it you spend another morning with your head in the toilet bowl.

“Are you sure? I can go back and-“

“Bradley shut up and open the bottle.” You ordered him with a laugh.

Bradley did exactly as you said, pouring in your glass first and then in his.

“So, do you have different shirt for every day of the year?” you hid your smile behind the glass.

“Very funny. Just wait until you fall in love with them.” And how you will look in them, he thought. He could picture it very clearly, you spending the night at his place and then in the morning walking around his kitchen in nothing but his Hawaiian shirt.

“We will see, I’m not sure about that though. Your turn.”

“We’re doing it again? Is it like 20 questions game or something?”

“No, it’s called getting to know each other.”

“We can do that without taking turns in asking questions.”

“But it’s fun. Just ask me something, anything.” And Bradley thought about it for a minute. He had things he wanted to ask you, but didn’t know what’s appropriate and what’s not.

“Do you have any siblings?” he asked.

“Two younger brothers. You?”

“No, I’m only child.” You two then shared a look for a moment, probably picturing each other’s families. “Your turn.”

“Do you like it here in San Diego? Can you picture settling down here?” you didn’t want to sound pushy or something, but if his answer would be no, you’d like to know that now. You like San Diego and don’t plan on moving away soon, if ever.

“Yeah I do, that’s why I asked to get a permanent position here. I wanted to settle down and this place felt right so I’m glad everything worked out.” You two then shared another look, probably picturing each other’s future in San Diego.

“My turn.” Bradley said, “Do you believe in aliens?” you shot him ‘are you serious?’ look.

“How does one answer this question?” you asked back.

“I think simple yes or no will do.” Bradley said with a serious look on his face, but you could see right behind it.

“Yes, I think we’re not the only existence in the space.” You gave him your answer, “but I have to fill my glass if you’re going to ask me questions like this.”

You moved a bit closer to him, reaching for the bottle of wine he was holding. When your fingers touched his you felt wave of heat go through your body. You shot him a look, not sure if he felt it too, but by the way he was looking at you, he did.

He took your glass and poured wine into it for you, handing it back to you, your fingers touched again. You felt the mood shift a bit.

“My turn.” You broke the silence, your voice deeper and quieter now. “How many relationships you had?”

“3, all of them lasted between 2 to 3 years. You?”

“Only one, lasted for three years.”

“Why did you break up?” Bradley asked.

“We both felt like we outgrew each other and wanted to try new things, so no bad blood.”

“New things?”

“Yes. It was first relationship for both of us, it was lot of firsts for me, for him too. So we agreed we taught each other what we were supposed to and that it was time to move on. We were more friends than partners in the end. It made sense to end it.”

“Uhm.” Bradley just nodded, his hand moving dangerously close to your body. He hesitated for a few seconds, before he asked another question. “Is he the only person you were intimate with?”

He moved his fingers across your neck, touching you there gently.

“Oh so we skipped the part about what was my dog’s name or what’s my favorite movie?” it was supposed to be a joke, but Bradley seemed very interested in your answer. “No.”

One word, but he got his answer.

“How many then?”

“Isn’t it my turn now?” you asked even though you knew this wasn’t a game anymore. Bradley hooked his hand around your knee and shifted you closer to him. You were now just a few inches from each other, you felt his breath on your skin.

“You’re right. Ask me.” He didn’t mind you didn’t answer him, instead he leaned his face closer to yours, looking into your eyes searching for a permission. When you nodded your head, he lowered his mouth to your jaw while keeping his hand on your knee still.

You really wanted to ask him something, but your mind went blank. All you could feel was his burning skin on your knee and his lips slowly moving from your jaw to your neck.

“Huh?” you felt his mustache on your skin and his nose poking into your neck, encouraging you to ask your question.

“I don’t-“ you let out a noise very close to a moan when Bradley lightly sucked at the skin under you ear, “I don’t have anymore questions.”

You didn’t even realized it, but your fingers were wrapped arounds Bradley’s hand that was on your knee, giving him all the signs he needed to continue.

He gave you small gentle kisses from your ear to you cheek slowly, but then he stopped right before your lips. He wanted you to do it, to kiss him first.

Everything felt like in a slow motion, as you took his cheek in your other hand and felt his scars against your skin. You stroke your thumb across his lips before pulling him into you.

You started with innocent kisses, slow, but passionate.

“Wait,” you parted your lips from Bradley’s as you looked around, “someone can see us from the bar.”

“I have my car in the parking lot, if you’d feel more comfortable there. Or we can stop and I’ll get you home, whatever you want.” Bradley really wanted to take you on the backseat of his Bronco, but he also felt like this could be more than one night stand, so was okay with just kissing for tonight.

“Your car.” Simple answer that made Bradley stood up, take your hand in his bigger one and lead the way.

He opened the passenger door for you and then seated himself behind the wheel.

“You’re not driving us anywhere, right?” panic took over you for a minute.

“Of course not.” Silence took over the car after that.

You two were looking at each other, studying each other’s faces.

“Come here.” Bradley said as he lean over to your seat to cup your face in both of his hands and connected your lips once again.

You put your hands over his as you opened your mouth a bit, giving Bradley access to deepen the kiss.

One of his big hands slid down your body, stopping at your knee as he lifted you a bit. You took the hint and helped him move you over to his seat right onto his lap.

He positioned his seat so you both were more comfortable. You didn’t waist any time and leaned down to return the neck kisses. He let out satisfied breath and moved his hands to your hips. When he squeezed them in his hands, it made you move in a way that reminded you both just how little fabric is between you.

You smirked against his neck and moved your lips back to his just before you rolled your hips again.

“Baby,” you felt his hands slide lower to grab your ass to stop you from moving again. “don’t.”

“Or what?” you rocked your hips against his firm grip, you being the one holding a moan in now.

“You’re a tease huh?”

You didn’t give him an answer, instead you started moving your hips in a rhythm. Your dress rolled up, so now it was only your panties separating you from his jeans covered bulge.

“Bradley” you moaned his name into his open mouth, before you started kissing him again.

You knew you were going to reach orgasm if you don’t stop doing what you’re doing, but neither of you seemed to mind.

“Just like that baby.” What happened to his ‘don’t?’, the truth is you didn’t mind. All you could think about was how to not lose the rhythm of moving your hips and how his hands felt on your skin.

One of his hand stayed on your ass, encouraging you to keep moving, the other one was grabbing your neck, keeping your mouth on his.

You felt how wet you were when Bradley’s hand moved between your legs to put your panties to the side and remove one more layer of clothes to help you get your high.

“So wet and I didn’t have to move a finger.” And he was right. All it took was few kisses and light touches and your pantie were wet. You let out another moan, this time a bit louder.

His hand then moved from between your legs to grip your boob over the clothes. You were wearing a bra, but you felt his thumb stroking your nipple, which sent another wave of pleasure to your body.

“Bradley I-“ you couldn’t even finish the sentence. You were out of breath from all the movement and from the feeling in your lover tummy.

“I know, baby, keep moving.” His words did as much as his touch to you.

All it took for your orgasm to take over your body was few more rolls of your hips and Bradley’s words of encouragement.

“Fuck!” you moaned as you slowed the movement of your hips to ride yourself through the high and let your head against Bradley’s shoulder.

Bradley kept giving you small kisses on the neck while waiting for you to come back from the pleasure.

But then you realize that it was only you who reached the orgasm and wave of embarrassment took over your body. Not only that, but you just dry humped a man you saw for the third time in his car in a parking lot.

“I’m embarrassed now.” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“Why?” Bradley let out a laugh at your sudden shyness.

“I didn’t plan on tonight ending like this. Now I look like horny teenager that couldn’t hold it in and that cares only about her own pleasure.”

“Look at me,” Bradley gently lifted your head from his shoulder “I don’t think you’re horny teenager who can’t keep it in her pants, I think that was one of the hottest things I ever experienced. Okay?” he felt the need to assure you of that, because it was true. Bradley loves receiving pleasure, but he also loves giving it. And seeing what he does to you and your body with little to no effort makes him crazy for what you will do when he’ll be the one in charge.

“Okay.” You kissed him on the lips. You were still a bit sensitive, but you expected him to want to continue, so you slid your hands down his chest and started unbuckling his belt.

“Wait,” he stopped your hands “as much as I’d love to move this to my place and continue, not tonight hm?”

“Why?” he must’ve seen the look in your eyes, hence why he started reassuring you once more.

“I think you’re fucking sexy okay, you should see yourself now. Lipstick smudged all over your face and messy hair just from dry humping me in the car. I’d love to see how you look after more, but let me take you on a proper date first yeah?”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling like an idiot. This ridiculously attractive man is asking you out on a date first, when he has you in his lap, you asking him to take you to his place for sex. What a dream.

“Okay.”

Being the gentleman he is, he called you a cab and made sure to tell the driver to stop at your house first and wait until you got inside.

You exchanged numbers and he promised to text you details for the date as soon as he makes a plan for the date.

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“You had sex!” Travis jumped from the couch when he saw your ‘after sex’ face, he knew.

“Oh god Travis, you scared me.”

“That’s what you get when you go out without me, traitor.” He sent a scoff in your direction “But I want all the details, everything.”

“Okay. I didn’t have sex, that’s everything. Good night.” You send him a kiss goodbye as you made your way towards your room, mentally preparing for the interview you’re going to get in the morning over a cup of coffee.

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