#Furi having a ball as the tour guide getting to point out the wonders of the city while Kaveh is swiftly marking the grand features!

[goldencherryhazz]

Touch

A/N: I went a little wild with this one, it a little messy but I hope you enjoy. Notes would be much appreciated, pls don’t copy my work! And as you can see I couldn’t think of a title lol.

Warnings: smut, masterbation, degradation, daddy kink, squirting, pure filth!

You know Harry didn’t like it when you played with yourself, the only acceptation he would make was when he was on tour but even then he would get you to FaceTime him so he could watch and guide you so that you would have the best orgasm, he always wanted to control your pleasure and to be fair any appendage of his body was ten times more pleasurable than your own. His fingers were longer and thicker and reached spots you didn’t even know existed, his tongue did wonders and flicked your bud just the right way, his cock was a whole other story you could only describe it as magical and you would never argue against that.

In your defence you knew that Harry recording vocals for his album this week and he was tired from countless late nights at work, he would always be frustrated with himself if he didn’t get a note for a song pitch perfect, and then he would just get mad at himself trying it over and over again but still not happy with it, then Jeff and the team would force him to go home after a while in fear that he would wear his voice out and have to go on vocal rest and the fact that he was probably going to burst from his pent up anger, and when he got back home he would just want to cuddle and go to sleep so you thought you would take care of yourself before he got back.

Once he did get home he had calmed down slightly, driving always seemed to calm him down for some strange reason. He got inside aiming to go straight to bed where he thought you would be, but when he goes past the bathroom he heard a small whimper, he had to do a double take at first but when the same sound comes from you again he was ready to burst through the door but decided to wait a few minutes to let you have your fun, because after this you wouldn’t be cumming for days.

Your moans start to get a little louder through the door and when he hears a loud shout of his name, well the preferred name you always called him when it came to doing anything sexual (‘daddy’) he burst through the door knowing you were probably about to cum, to find you sat on the edge of the bathtub fingers buried deep inside your head thrown back, which slowly lifted up in shock. You hadn’t even heard him come in the house, you thought you would of had plenty of time but you had obviously lost track being so lost in pleasure. The stern look on his face told you that you were in deep shit, so you opt to remove your fingers from your pussy and put both hands in your lap.

‘Well what do we have here baby’ he saunters in coming to stand right over you from your perch on the bathtub, he immediately noticing the pool of your juices on the floor.

‘Harry I didn’t’ you started before he made eye contact, the fury in his eyes was enough to shut you up.

‘First of all it’s daddy to you, and secondly how many times did you cum?’

‘Sorry daddy, I came twice’

‘hmm twice to many baby don’t you think, I see you squirted aswell didn’t you’

‘Yes d-daddy’ his eyes boar into yours and you couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated.

‘You know daddy doesn’t like it when someone else touches his pretty little peach don’t you’

You nod, ‘my pussy belongs to you daddy, I’m sorry for touching myself’ you say quickly knowing that any excuse you had as to why you were playing with yourself wouldn’t work.

‘Hmm, now that’s what I like to hear’ he couldn’t help but get slightly hard at that but he quickly thinks about something else to not give you the satisfaction.

He averts his eyes to the floor quickly taking in the pool of your clear juices once again, a cynical smirk overtakes his features which instantly made you panic knowing he had something brewing up in that head of his.

He looks back at you ‘I want you to clean up your mess for me’ he says reaching his hand up to your jaw his thumb resting heavy in your bottom lip making it snap back when he released it again, ‘don’t want you to use a towel or anything like that, want you to use that pretty little mouth of yours, do you think you can do that? He asks even though you didn’t really have a choice.

‘Yes daddy’ you comply getting down on you knees still only wearing a t-shirt, hissing as the cold tiles make contact with your bare legs. You lower your head so your nose is just above your juices your hair falling onto the floor which is quickly resolved when Harry crouches down beside your form and grabs it and makes it into a makeshift pony tail at the back of your head before lowering you head down practically pressing you face into the wetness almost a signal to start cleaning up.

You lips start smacking against the tiled floors, the slurping sounded quite disgusting and made the heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment, but you knew he wouldn’t let you out of the bathroom till you had licked up every last drop.

‘Such a filthy fucking whore aren’t ya, doing anything daddy says’

Your hair being yanked slightly at every word to accentuate his statement as you hum again the floor, not being to come out with a proper respond without it being muffled.

Once Harry sees you are done he pulls your head up by your hair so that you are sat on in your calves, your chin slightly wet, your eyes had this fucked out look in them from being that submissive for him. He kissed you on the lips for the first time since he caught you, dipping his tongue into your mouth to have a taste, the kiss ends just as quick as it started just as you were starting to enjoy having his lips on yours, he runs a finger along your chin collecting the remainder of your juices and then dipping it into his mouth before moving to stand up.

‘C’mon come to bed where you can dream about cumming, cause if you think I’m touching you for the next week you can think again, you’ve been a very bad girl’

Before you even got the chance to get up off the floor he was already walking to the bedroom, he was angry from earlier and you had just added fuel to the fire and he had contained it very well if he said so himself. At the same time he couldn’t keep the small smirk off of his face, cause he was definitely going to have fun with you.

//////

Fast forward 3 days and your clit was throbbing and in desperate need of a release. To make it even worse Harry had had a few days off so the teasing was constant, he walked around the house in little to no clothes, made sure to leave the bathroom door slightly open to make sure you heard his moans when he jerked himself off in the shower almost loud enough that you would hear even from the living room. The way he would spoon you when you were cuddling or in bed, he would shuffle around and press his cock right between your ass cheeks so that you felt him even through layers of clothes.

The sexual deprivation was driving you insane to say the least. You were currently in bed reading a book Harry doing the same, well you were reading that was until you caught the sight of your boyfriend, before he was sat with his legs straight out infront of him but being the fidget-bum his is he had now moved his knees towards his chest and spread them slightly his feet planted on the bed. The fabric of his shorts tightened over the area between his legs, outlining his cock and balls perfectly, his thighs looking deliciously thick, the muscles of his tattooed arm flexed as he flicked through the pages of his book, the shirt he was wearing was practically skin tight making you ogle his figure at the head of the bed, from you spot on your belly further.

You don’t realise your shifting your legs together as you watch him, your panties now getting undeniably wet, trying to relieve some of the ever building pressure, the movement catching Harry’s attention.

‘What are you doing darling’ he looks at you knowingly.

‘Nothing’ stopping the movement of your legs, shying away from his gaze, staring at the words on the page you were currently on but not actually reading them.

‘Staring at me weren’t you, rubbing those soft little legs together’

‘Can’t help it, you look really good sat like that’ she says innocently.

‘What about a the rest of the time, do I not look good then’

‘Course you look good, it’s just- I can see the outline of you cock really good from here, making me soo wet, pretty sure I’ve ruined these panties by now.’

Well to bad baby, shouldn’t have been a bad girl the other day’ he retorts going back to reading planning on ignoring her desperate pleas.

‘Pretty please daddy, will you touch me’ making him huff and look back up at you, getting a little frustrated.

‘Oh it’s daddy now is it, you have your own fingers don’t you baby?’

‘But it’s not the same as when you do it’ she also knew that if she did touch herself again it would only prolong her punishment, but at this moment in time you was close to loosing it with how horny you were.

‘Well that didn’t stop you the other day did it’ he points out.

You whine ‘no baby don’t you get all bratty with me, I could’ve had you over my knee spanking your ass right now, would’ve made you feel it for days, but I bet you would have loved that though, cause you’re such a filthy girl, aren’t you’

‘Answer me, are you a filthy girl?’

‘Yes daddy I am’

‘Good now we have that established I am going to carry on reading, and I suggest you stop speaking before I have you over my knee, is that clear baby girl’

‘Yes daddy’ you say submissively doing as he said.

20 minutes had passed when an idea popped into your head, you had been warned not to talk and you knew the consequences but your mouth was moving before you had time to process it.

‘Daddy can we touch ourselves together, I-I mean like masterbate together’ you explain even though Harry already knew what you meant.

He looked at you in annoyance, but in his head he was absolutely pining at your suggestion. Getting to watch you touch yourself all spread out for him, and him doing the same. The past few days had also been torture for him too, he tried to replicate your touch when the was running his hand up and down his cock in the shower, but it wasn’t even close to the way your soft hands would stroke him, he had to resist pounding into you multiple times from just watching you do daily tasks, yesterday you were bending over the dining-room table to reach the vase of now dead flowers to put a new bunch in, you were wearing leggings so when you bent over he got a perfect view off your ass, he really wanted keep you bent over it as he pounded you into the table, he had to take himself to the small gym he had set up in the basement to calm himself down.

He closed his eyes and let out a angry sigh. He hated how much he was caving right now. He was adamant he wasn’t going to let you cum for the next week but your suggestion was too hard to resist. So if he wasn’t touching you he would still be carrying through with his punishment. Right?

He hadn’t said a single word yet, and you were almost certain he was going to say no, but when he marked the page he was on in his book and threw it down into the bed it brought a flicker of hope within you.

‘C’mere’ he murmured, making you scramble up the bed kneeling between his spread legs.

He cups your cheek ‘you were a bad girl the other night, made daddy upset. Didn’t think I was good enough, that I couldn’t satisfy you’

‘Daddy you always satisfy me, make me cum so fucking hard, no ones ever touched or fucked me the way you do’ you say truthfully.

‘And who do you belong to’

‘You daddy, always been you’ this tips him over the edge his cock hardening making a tent in his shorts.

‘That’s a good girl, now I’m going to let you cum, but on one condition, we don’t touch each other whatsoever, still gotta keep up with your punishment even if you did say all those nice things to daddy’

‘Okay, thankyou daddy’ a wave of relief washes over you, itching to just get on with it now.

‘Strip for me then’ you immediately start shuffling out of your clothes as if he had read your mind.

He does the same, moving to the middle of the headboard so that there would be more room, once you are finally naked and turn your head towards Harry again you gawk at him, he looked soo hot with his legs spread, his pretty cock hard up against his belly, he looked delicious. You catch yourself staring, quickly snapping out of it, moving to sit across from Harry replicating his position only being inches away from his form, your juices had made your pussy nice and slick practically glistening.

‘God you’re so wet haven’t even touched you, shit you’re such a filthy little slut’ he groaned, desperately wanting to reach out and run his fingers through your folds to get a taste.

‘Open’ he instructs quickly placing his fingers onto your mouth.

You were about to say something about the no touching rule but decide against it cause in reality he was going to do whatever he wanted anyway. So you let his fingers enter your mouth and happily suck on them, humming as you do. Just as quickly as he put them in he retracted his hand and brought it down to his throbbing cock, spreading the wetness from your mouth up and down his length.

‘What now daddy’ you ask knowing that if you did anything he didn’t want you to do he would probably stop all of this immediately, so you decide to teed carefully.

‘Touch those pretty tits for me’ he says going straight to tugging his leaky cock. So you bring your fingers down to your nipples, the coldness of them making you hiss when the come into contact instantly hardening them, you slowly begin to tweak the nubs between you thumb and index finger.

‘That’s it, just like how daddy does it except he’d have his mouth on you tits sucking and biting them marking you up just the way you like’ he says knowing this was getting you even more riled up.

After a couple of minutes he stops you ‘now I want you to tease that sweet cunt of yours, don’t you dare put a finger in your tight little hole until I say, is that’s clear’

‘Yes daddy’ you say making eye contact with him as you start to touch your clit.

The sight could have made him cum right there and then, his beautiful girl touching her perfect pussy like daddy had told her to, it got him impossibly harder as he was now moving his hand up and down faster, circling the sensitive head every once in a while.

Moan after moan was pouring out of your mouth, rubbing deep circle into your clit, the sight of your boyfriend getting himself off at the same time was incredibly hot.

‘You can dip those finger into your sweet pussy of yours now baby, doing so good for me’ he was desperate to see your face morph into one of pleasure.

You moan again at his words instantly slipping two finger inside of you, not having to be told twice. You bury them to the hilt curling them up, hitting your g-spot, the sensation making you bite your lip to suppress you moans but it was no use as one escaped you and your eyes roll back. You start building a rhythm which was subconsciously at the same time as Harry ran his hand up and down his length.

‘Go faster sweet girl, just like daddy does’ you whimpered already getting close to falling over the edge, you feverishly grasped the sheets trying to keep you body up.

‘Nobody does it like you though daddy’ you were never able to replicate the actions of his fingers and the way they worked at your cunt.

Harry groans and moans had increased as he got closer and closer ‘shit I’m gonna cum’ he says his cock twitching, a long purple vein bulging as his hand now stroking himself faster then before, you really wanted to lick up the underside of his length you practically drooled at the thought.

‘Can I please cum with you daddy’

‘No baby, daddy’s gonna cum first. Wanna cum on that pussy of yours, seeing as I can’t cum inside you. C-can you spread you folds for me, can you do that for me’ he slurred out inching closer to you.

You do as he says removing your fingers then spreading you folds for him ‘want you to cum on my pussy daddy, want it soo bad’ he reaches his spare hand to fondle his balls and with a few more pumps, that mixed with your words he was done for ‘shiiit I’m cumming’ he shouts rope after rope landing on you cunt and thighs, the sensation of his warm cum on your pussy making you feel all fuzzy and bringing you to the brink once again.

His legs start to shake from the oversensitivity, his hand slowly riding out the waves of his orgasm, eyes clamped shut, his mouth still hung open soft moans tumbling out of it. ‘You good daddy’ you ask as he finally opens his eyes again.

‘Hmmm, made me cum soo hard, such a filthy little thing, look at you pretty pussy covered in my cum, looks soo good baby’ he swipes some sweaty curls that he’d fallen onto his forehead.

‘Can I have a taste daddy’

Course baby, as long as I get one aswell’

You quickly bring your fingers and collect the mixture of you twos juices, bringing them to you mouth, humming at the taste that now laid heavy on your tongue, you replicate the action again but this time bring your fingers to Harry’s awaiting mouth, he took your finger in sucking in them greedily, his soft moans making shiver run up your spine.

‘Can I cum now daddy, please daddy’ you whimpered.

‘Been such a good girl for daddy, been waiting for soo long, bet your poor little cunts aching by now. Make yourself cum for me baby’

You instantly plunge your finger into your hole, Harry’s cum making you even slicker but sticky all at the same time, the area between your legs must have looked a mess, but Harry thought it was the most hottest and beautiful things he had seen, his cock getting excited again but he would deal with that in a bit.

You fingers move inside of you at a quick pace, even adding a third the sting of the stretch morphing into pleasure. ‘Tell you what baby, if you squirt for me we can cockwarm later, promise I won’t make you clean up the mess like I made you do the other day’

You whimper, how could you deny that it was impossible in fact, the last part would have made you laugh but you were too caught up in pleasure ‘okay daddy, I’ll s-squirt for you’

Your fingers were now going frantically fast, and when you feel like a balloon was forming in you lower belly you cried out in relief ‘found the spot haven’t you, gonna soak the sheets, gonna soak me angel’ he moaned. You were seconds away from your sweet release when you threw your head back breaking eye contact with Harry which he didn’t like one bit ‘look at me baby, wanna watch you fall apart, gonna cum for me, cum for daddy’ and with that you couldn’t hold it anymore your orgasm collapsing on top of you, the balloon inside you also bursting resulting in you squirting over the sheets and part of Harry’s lower half ‘thankyou daddy, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou’ was all you managed to get out, Harry swore he could have cum at the sight of you, fingers still slowly moving in and out of you pulsating cunt, trying to come down from your high. You looked utterly fucked out and it boosted his ego knowing that the majority of you pleasure was coming from him and he hadn’t even touched you. You eventually collapse flat in the bed not being able to hold yourself up any longer, still out of breath like you had tuna marathon.

‘Fuck you’re soo hot baby, came soo hard and squirted like daddy told you, now you get to have my cock in your tight little cunt later cause you’ve been such a good girl for daddy’ you moan at that.

‘Mhhh love being your good girl, don’t know if I like being your bad girl more though’

‘Let’s stick to being good shall we, don’t think I can handle not being able to be inside you and it’s only been 3 days, think I would shrivel up if I have to do it again.’ He chuckled making you laugh tiredly. Soon you feel him crawl up between your legs before leaning over you until you two were face to face. ‘Kissy’ he asks puckering his lips making you smile wildly, leaning up to kiss his plump lips, the both of you feeling as if you were on cloud 9 now indulging in one another as their lips pressed, and tongues danced with each other.

Maybe all that torture wasn’t soo bad after all.

[stokingthemidnightflame]

Xanthorrhoeas: Fire and Flame (1/6)

(AO3 link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25173700/chapters/61005721#main)

So I did a thing...wrote a fic. I hope you like it! 

Xanthorrhoeas

It’s a little known fact that lingering in the ashes of fire, the beautiful Xanthorrhoeas can spring up again.

Six years after a nasty breakup, Nesta Jia Archeron and Cassian Ramirez still can’t seem to get away from each other.

As Nesta seeks to make sure that life-saving healthcare ends up in the right hands, and far away from Hybern’s hands, she begins to attract threat after threat. Underneath carefully curated pearls, stilettos and tweed jackets, Nesta’s a viper waiting to strike. But she’s fresh out of law school, and the Archeron sisters are wading into dangerously flammable territory.

Where flame appears, heat follows close behind.

Cassian Ramirez is ex-Marine. After two tours, a breakup, and one honourable discharge, Ramirez Securities is a leading digital and personal security company. Nesta has always been his kryptonite; and when he gets the call, there’s no question - he’s always going to have her back. Semper fidelis. Always faithful.

And maybe, just maybe, something else will bloom too.

----

Chapter 1: Fire and Flame

She wanted to be here about as much as Rhysand seemed to want Keir to be here. His arm was curled protectively around Feyre, both dressed to the nines as they greeted each guest with smiles and hugs. The gala was yet another one of Rhysand’s obligations as the CEO of the massive technology conglomerate, Velaris. There were perks to being a thirty something heir of a recently deemed Fortune 500 company: thousands of employees, a healthy salary and almost anything money could buy, but it did not preclude Rhys from having to deal with pompous old white men and their entitled children. Tomas being one of them. Nesta didn’t want to think about her ex, who she saw with two women wrapped around him in a corner.

Unfortunately, she was about two seconds away from pouring her virgin margarita on his smarmy face. He grinned as he saw Nesta and gave an arrogant half-wave, half-beckon, still ensconced by the two blondes, each wearing a tiny scrap of a dress. She ignored him resolutely.

That fucking asshole. Two years, and all she had for it was a shitload of trauma and therapy - six months and still counting.

“Nesta, there you are.” Helion, smoothly said as he finally arrived, wrapping a soft, manicured hand around her elbow. In the nick of time too, as Nesta’s fingers tightened around the half-empty margarita glass.

“You’re late,” she replied stubbornly, trying to be offended by Helion’s charming smile and dazzling beauty. Her date for the night, Helion looked like he had stepped fresh off the runway in a black, double-breasted satin tuxedo. Fuck. She needed to get laid. It had been months since Hybern Co. had started a massive patents war with Velaris, and Feyre had asked her for help. She had never been able to refuse Feyre, which was how she had ended up working the case with a bunch of overqualified associates with half a brain between them. And how she ended up with exactly no time for herself.

Harvard grads were not all they were cracked up to be.

“My apologies. I only just came from a meeting, darling,” he responded smoothly as he continued to guide her gently across the room. They moved further away from Tomas and his oh-so-punchable face. With a start, she realised that he had guided her all the way to the middle of the dance floor. Screw Helion and his charm.

“May I have this dance?” A voice came from behind her. Startled, Nesta whirled around and came face-to-face with Cassian Ramirez. Formerly known as fiancé. But that was a long time ago, Nesta.

She arched a single brow, nodding to Helion as he let go of her hand.

As Cassian offered an open hand, she composed herself, trying not to think about how handsome Cassian looked in his slick burgundy suit. She was a sucker for a good suit, and his hair was tied back, making his dark brown honey eyes all the more prominent. It didn’t help that he had worn that exact suit on their second date. It had been so long, but she could still remember him in exacting detail.

Nesta hasn’t laid eyes on Cassian Ramirez for at least a year and a half. Not since Tomas started getting violent. And even before then, they were on tenuous terms. Things had never been the same after she had stormed out of their apartment six years ago, her heart savagely ripped out and stepped upon. Nothing good ever came after that. It was all tortured glances from the other side of galas, avoiding bubbly messages from Feyre and Elain and Rhysand and Azriel to go out with them! and the unending ellipsis of unsent texts. Over and over again.

“She’s all yours,” Helion said, quirking his eyebrows. Nesta reflexively pinched Helion, and he winced before hurrying away. Cassian in the meantime, was gazing into her eyes, She could feel her hands start to sweat under his intense gaze, and as she tried to wipe her hands discretely on the thorned roses stitched into her stiff silk dress, Cassian offered a hand that Nesta took.

“I uh - ” as he stood in front of her, he suddenly seemed lost for words. Cassian's hand was warm and calloused and still perfect for her. Once, these caresses had been as natural and fluid as breathing. Even with the rift that stood between them, it still felt so right.

She smiled serenely and ignored Cassian’s fumble, patently aware of Tomas in the corner. “We should probably dance.” The words hover in the air, an olive branch that she wonders if Cassian really deserves. Regardless, it doesn’t matter. They can’t make a scene tonight.

And if she’s telling the truth, she doesn’t want to either. After Tomas...Nesta craves the kind of blissful innocence she had with Cassian. Lingering kisses and slow mornings, late nights with coffee and curled up with each other.

“Uh-yes.” Cassian blushed, his olive skin flushing a cardinal as bright as her dress. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?” He grasped the olive branch, as Nesta slid into his arms, his hand drifting to a respectable, brotherly place on her waist as he guided her into a delicate spin. Her skin was as delicate as ever, and her as her hair grazed his hand, he shivered.

“Good.” The overture is gone as fast as it came. Her tone is brisk and terse, an end to the conversation. Why did he have to ask that of all questions? Unbidden, her eyes fall upon Tomas again, and she felt her lips purse tightly.

Cassian, perceptive as ever, gracefully glances over, his eyes darkening as they landed on the arrogant lawyer in the corner.

“Yes, I heard that you got together with Mandray,” he said tightly.

Nesta’s fiery gaze slid back to him, as she hissed, “That’s none of your business. Why are you here anyway? Last I heard, you had left for San Francisco.” You were the one that left me. Again and again and again. The thought bubbled up, and Nesta squashed it, willing her tone to remain firm and steady.

He grimaced but didn't fall for Nesta's bait. “You know why I’m back.” His jaw was clenched tight, his gaze firmly upon her as they kept on dancing. Nesta forced yet another smile with gritted teeth.

“Fuck Azriel. That’s not his right and he goddamn knows it!”

“Hybern is dangerous. Don’t be stubborn. You know better than that.” Impassive and cold, his words ignite a fury in Nesta.

“Stubborn? You have the nerve to call me stubborn? After that stunt you pulled-”

His brows furrowed in pain and she felt the urge to dig her nails into the pad of her palm. Anything to stop herself from apologizing for the gaping wound she had re-opened with half a sentence but before she could say something he cleared his throat and said quietly, “I’m sorry. That was - a poor choice of words on my part.”

Nesta scoffed, her fury blanketed again. She didn’t say a word.

“We really do have to get you a security detail,” he pressed instead.

“You mean you.” She accused. He doesn’t object. Azriel would never have just asked anybody to protect Nesta.

“I don’t need a security detail. I’m fine. I know how to kick somebody in the balls,” she said emphatically, trying to resist the urge to rip Cassian a new one. She doesn’t want to hurt him. Not really. Not the way he hurt her. “And if Hybern comes after me in any other way, I will systematically destroy them.”

“As delightfully painful and visceral that sounds, some things require a more delicate touch.” he said, suddenly smirking in a false bravado that Nesta sees right through. “Hybern will be after you in more ways than one. I can help with that. Or have you forgotten my degree in-”

“Cybersecurity and computer science. I remember. Doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself. Elain and Feyre need it more than me.” Her voice is brusque and words to the point. I don’t need this. And even if I did...you would be the last person I ever asked.

His only response was a growl. The smirk disappeared as fast as it came.

“You know as well as I do that Feyre and Elain both have martial arts training. You were the only one who never wanted to learn. Which is fine, but they can protect themselves physically. Unless if you suddenly earned a black belt in the past two years, that kick in the balls and viper mouth won’t keep them down.

“Please, sweetheart,” she hears him beg. Was that anguish in his voice? The nickname dropped so naturally from his lips, but as soon as he says it she flinched, seizing up. You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you? A pretty little thing... The memory comes back so swiftly that she almost reels. Cassian lifted his hands from her immediately, his eyes questioning.

She pursed her lips firmly. “Don’t call me that.”

Cassian bowed his head and Nesta sees a glimpse of torment, can just barely hear him curse himself as he bites down on his lip. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” It's not why you think. It's much worse.

They dance along to three more songs, before Nesta announced she was tired. She had made her presence known, and ensured that Tomas knew she was in peak ability for their impeding legal battle. Meeting Cassian had not been part of the plan. It left her with the kind of bone-deep weariness that she hasn’t felt since pulling three all-nighters in a row as a law intern.

“Let me drive you home. You still haven’t bought a car, right?” he offered. There was no denying that. Nesta had never seen the need for a car in New York, but she scowled anyway as she disparagingly asked him if he was drunk.

“Not a drop,” he promised. When they had been together, they had rarely drank. Part of Nesta had always wondered if he had reverted back to his pre-Nesta college days of drinking after their less-than-ideal breakup. She glanced over at Feyre and Rhysand who were still dancing together happily, nodding a goodbye, before waving to Azriel and Elain. All of them...in their lover’s cuddles. A wave of jealousy washed over her before she clamped it down, breathing out quickly.

“Fine. You remember where I live, right?” She asked, letting him drape her matching red coat over her shoulders. Watching Cassian’s hands linger on the ruby red coat before he helped her into it almost made her regret wearing it.

Red had always been their thing.

---

How could he forget her home? The brownstone, with its first and second floors decked out in rich brocade and tapestry, hardwood floors for visitors. But then, her third and fourth floors; soft modern furnishings. Carpet so thick that his feet sunk into it. A walk-in closet, wholly converted into a sunken lounging area, snug and cosy surrounded by her favourite novels. Late nights with Nesta curled into him as he read romance novels to her or they watched some trashy flick.

His tongue suddenly felt swollen. He couldn’t breath for a moment. Instead, he nodded, opening the passenger door for her as the valet pulled his car up.

He had to get a grip on himself.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, looking over to check on Nesta. As he does, his eyes fall onto her monogrammed leather clutch.

NJA.

“So you’re Azriel's girl with the fancy monogrammed bracelet,” Cassian says. He dangles the golden chain with its delicate monogrammed heart in front of her, but frowns when he spots the faint tan line on her writs. Immediately, he feels like an ass for playing around with something clearly so sentimental to the girl.  

Nesta’s eyes look up as he slides over her gold bracelet. “I'm not Azriel's girl." As she glances over at him properly, she glares and adds, "And you’re the trust fund baby. Not sure why you’re talking,” she hits back. She grabs the bracelet and clasps it on immediately. No thank you. She had left it behind in the apartment Azriel and Cassian had shared, and Cassian had taken it upon himself to bring it back to her.

Cassian snorts. “Clearly. As if wearing a monogrammed 24-carat gold bracelet isn't a sign of being a trust fund kid."

Nesta pushes up her glasses, puckers her lips and says primly, “I, unlike you, actually pay for my own things."

Cassian shrugs and then foolhardily remarks, "Not if I take you to dinner." He smirks, the kind of panty-dropping grin that has worked so effectively in the past.

"In your dreams, asshole."

Three months later, he knew he was in love with her. She was it for him. He graduated college, while she continued law school. Cassian had moved into her brownstone, bequeathed by her mother. He had promised to never hurt her, that he would always be there for her.

But somewhere along the line, he had fucked it up. Sent her running to Tomas. His hand clenched, fingers digging into his palm, sending a dull pain through his body. It’s her life. He doesn’t get a say. And he knows, knows that he would never impede upon her choices. But he feels a lot.

“Cassian?” Nesta’s confused voice cut through and he ripped his gaze from the purse.

“Sorry. Let’s get going.” His voice is short. Terse. But Nesta doesn’t question it, instead settling into the leather seat and sighing, her eyes fluttering shut.

He remembered how social events always drained her. She loved dressing up but hated talking to everyone. It exhausted her, having to put on that facade of unthreatening politeness, when she was really a viper. A viper in pearls and stilettos, ball gowns and dripping in diamonds, but a viper nonetheless.

As he pulled up, he realised with a start that Nesta had fallen asleep. Her loose, dark hair was strewn across her shoulders, and Cassian wants more than anything to tuck it behind her ear. To do anything so that the way her forehead was creased, even in sleep, softened and-

“Nesta,” he said abruptly instead. He can’t keep fantasising. It’s not fair for her, not when it’s his fault. His fault, his fault, his fault. When he sees her, all he can see is his mistakes, again and again and again.

Her face reddened as she fumbles with her clutch. “Let me check everything’s okay, alright?” He reassured her.

Nesta nods without a fight, still tired. She passed him her keys without a fuss, following him as they walk up the stairs to the brownstone.

As soon as he unlocked the front door, he noticed the heavy, musk scent. It’s so out of place with the light, lavender and floral scents that Nesta has always favoured. But maybe something changed after you left. It wasn’t until he nearly tripped over the box right behind her door that he realised something was very, very wrong. As he inhaled, he tried to keep his stomach from lurching.

“Nesta, I want you to stay calm, okay?” he said carefully, pulling out his gun. Her eyes widened, her hand trembling as she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Liar. Liar. Liar. It thrummed in his head, making it hard to concentrate. “Just call Azriel, okay? Tell him to bring the Level 1 team. And hurry.” She nodded, pulling out her phone and dialling. As she started talking, he glanced back at the box.

Inside the cardboard box, was a decapitated snake nestled amongst red roses. The same cardinal as Nesta’s dress. It doesn’t take a genius to realise the death threat. Not when he was pretty certain the snake was a viper. The stench wasn’t just from the dead snake, he realised.

The roses had been dipped in blood.

Cassian took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his hand. Focus. Nesta needs you.

Because Nesta’s never been one to listen to Cassian, she had, unbeknownst to him, walked over and looked over his shoulder. He only realised when he heard her gasp in fear, hand reaching up to her throat as if she was being choked.

Immediately, Cassian turned around, holding her. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he promised. “I’ve got you. Do you still have the go bag we made?” He remembers teaching her how to be safe in the old, cavernous brownstone. He had bought her the grey cargo bag two weeks after they started dating. He had probably come on a little strong, but at the time, he didn’t care.

Nesta clutched onto his shirt, but he felt her nod against him. Selfishly, a part of him feels gratified that she still feels some measure of comfort in him. The rest of him hates himself for even thinking that at this moment. “Okay. Once Azriel and my team gets here, we’ll get the bag and you’ll spend the night at my place. Is that okay?”

She let out a sob, and Cassian tightened his grip on her. After what seemed like an eternity, Azriel pulled up, his face drawn and tight. Azriel and Nesta had been friends for longer than even Cassian had known Azriel. They were twin souls of fire and ice, with a deep understanding of each other.

Cassian nodded to Azriel, his eyes a silent order to him. Azriel inclined his head ever so slightly, and Cassian returned his focus to Nesta. “Azriel’s going to get your bag. Then we’re going to get out of here.”

There was a single nod from Nesta as they walked towards the minivan, Rowan sliding open the door for them. Two minutes later, Azriel returned with the grey duffel bag that made Cassian’s heart clench. It hurt more than he could say that Nesta had kept the bag. But it lit a new fire in him too.

Nesta had regained her poise, sitting ramrod straight on the bench, seatbelt clicked into place. As Cassian and Azriel took seats on either side of her, she didn’t say a word. But her hands were clenched so tight, her knuckles were white and her skin was blanched.

“We’ve got you,” Cassian said quietly as he looked at Azriel over Nesta. Azriel’s face was easy to read: Don’t fuck this up. You better not make me regret my decision to call you.

As Rowan drove, the only thing Cassian could think was she’s in danger again. I have to protect her.

I swear, I won’t fail you ever again Nesta.

I swear it on my life.

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 40

“Mrs. De Robiano D'Arcy, I can see where Harper Coco gets her good looks from” Really? He had to go there? She looked nothing like her mother, or her father for that matter, stop sucking up to them, I know you're trying to be nice and diplomatic here, but this is ridiculous. But his good intentions definitely seemed to work, they were obviously charmed by him, with him they could look right through the 'artistic and unusual' long hair..so that was why he had dressed so smart..just to try and score some good points, stupid ass!. Jared took a step back from the warm greeting he had given to her mother and turned, uh-oh..she looked like she was about to unleash a hurricane, she and her father just stood there staring each other down, looks of dissaproval and pure hate shot back and forth. “Shall we?” Jared tried to lighten the mood, inviting them all to sit down, her father courteously pulled back his wife's chair but when Jared tried to do the same for Harper, he was met by eyes full of venom and she simply swatted at his hands and pulled back her own chair before she plopped down. It was an act of rebellion that was of course met by another dissaproving stare from her parents, under the table Jared tried to reach for her hand but she quickly pulled it away and leaned back in her chair, talk to me, look at me, I don't care what you do, just don't ignore me Harper, please! I'm doing this for you. “So, Mr. Leto, you are an actor?” her father picked up the conversation “call me Jared, please! And yes I act but I also have a band..with my brother, we've just embarked on a world tour actually”.  I need to get away from here, what the hell is this fuckery? Look at me, just fuckin' look at me, talk to me and stop pretending I'm not even here, “I see..you will have to forgive me, Mr. Leto..oh sorry, Jared of course” her Dad gave him a sugary smile “but I googled your name last night and I saw that you even won an Oscar?”. What?? she couldn't take this any longer, threw her napkin on the table and got up “excuse me”, stomping off without even looking at them, because if she did, then she would surely burst out into tears. “Harper?..Coco? Wait!” half way across the lobby he tried to stop her, “let go of me” she yanked her arm, “Coco, stop!” but he was stronger than her and grabbed both her arms. “What's wrong?” oh he didn't know? “nothing, go back to your new found friends, you're getting on like a house on fire” she snapped, “Harper, darling, I'm doing this for you..I'm trying..and I need you to try as well”.

One pair of eyes full of hurt and disappointment met the other pair of eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope, “come on, please, we're all here now..”, no, I don't want to, I'm still shaking just seeing my Dad again, everything just comes flooding back and it's taking my breath away. “Come” he whispered and slowly started pulling her back to the dining room “it'll be ok, I promise” he tried to reassure her, “I don't know” he felt her hand tremble in his as he guided her back to the table where her parents were shooting her more disapproving looks. Food was put on the table as they sat down again, temperature below zero, this was gonna be a looooonnnggg morning.

”Harper?! Will you stop?! Hey, I'm talking to you!” for the second time today he was chasing after her after she had stomped off in a blazing fury again. “Yes!” she stopped dead in her tracks “yes, you're actually talking to me now, lucky me” she huffed and continued on her furious way back to their room, followed by him with his heart hammering in his throat. “What the hell did I do? I don't get it” he didn't want to but he couldn't help raise his voice at her, “nothing, you clearly don't understand” there was a despair and an anger in her voice that he had never heard before, they had a few squabbles before but never anything serious, but she was seething with anger, their first official fight, it hadn't even properly started and already he was scared senseless about what was to follow and the seriousness of it. “Explain it to me then!” he kicked the door shut with his foot “what did I do? What the fuck did I do?” he yelled, while watching her grab a bag, whoaa, wait a minute, “They didn't talk to me, my father didn't even fuckin' look at me” she was shaking like a leaf when she stopped for a second with what she was doing. “And that is my fault, because?” things were escalating rapidly, “what?!!? so now you're on their side? Figures, 'oh Jared, you won an oscar' and 'you are such a talented man, Jared' ” she nearly puked repeating her parents' words “they disown me, they cut me off financially, emotionally, just because I wanted a career in painting, but hey they're about to adopt you exactly because they admire your artistic career?” she shouted, losing control every second. “For fuck's sakes, Harper, I have my career and I've worked very hard to get where I am, so basically I have to suffer and be ashamed for having a succesful career, just because  you're jealous? You're jealous because you don't even have career, you don't have the tiniest glimmer of chance at a career, goddammit!” the second he said it, he regretted it. All colour drained from her face, her lips formed a silent 'O' like a fish out of water, gasping for air, no don't react, don't say a word, don't give him that satisfaction, this is wrong, all wrong, this was a mistake, her heart hurt so much, it felt like it would explode, the man she had trusted with her life..with her heart, was handing it back to her, ripped to shreds on a platter. He didn't believe in her, he had just told her she sucked at the only thing she loved doing with body, mind and soul..just like she had been told all her life, first her parents, and now him. Pulling most of her clothes into her bag with one swipe of her arm, she zipped it up with one angry yank, “Harper, what are you doing?” his mouth went dry, no, no, no, stay here, I'm sorry, just stay here, stay with me. “I'm leaving..I can't deal with all this shit any longer, I can't be with someone who doesn't believe in me, not my parents, and not you as you've clearly got your heart set on making a bloody idiot out of me, and I think I've given you more than enough ammo to do so, and that was the dumbest mistake I've ever made..no more, Jared” she spat and dangerously raised her index finger at him, her voice completely hoarse. “No..Harper” an iron fist of fear clamped around his vocal chords, no, no, he walked up to her, locking his hand around her wrist, but she spun around “LET..GO!” she hissed like a cat “you let go of me and you forget all about me and my stupid paintings, and forget I've even existed which won't be so hard to do for you, more than choice enough waiting to throw themselves at your feet” her voice was going from horse to completely gone at an alarming speed, and she left, her heart under her arm.

The argument at the table with her parents, or better the monologue she held right before she stormed out, they didn't even look at her, they just sat there completely ignoring her, Jared who sat there too clearly ashamed of her, him mocking her work, it was too much, too much. Her phone bleeped incessantly, but it didn't matter, it didn't matter anymore, “Flight UA5987 to New York JFK, boarding in half an hour, terminal D, gate 18” the man behind the desk handed her the boarding card, this was a rash decision..no, it wasn't, she needed to get out of here, far away from the memories, old and new, done, another painful lesson learned. PICK UP YOUR GODDAMN PHONE!!!! he threw his own across the room with a deafening yell, where was she? I'm not gonna sleep on it, I'm not gonna let this escalate, me and my fuckin' big mouth, how could I be such a goddamn prick? This is not the end, no, this was just a row, keep telling yourself that, you've hurt her in the most disgusting way, you insulted her wonderful, raw talent in the cruelest way.

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: FORGIVE ME!

Darling,

it's all I can ask, that you forgive me, I honestly didn't mean it, surely we can talk about it?

You're the love of my life, believe that, and believe that I do believe in you and admire you.

I miss you so much it hurts..

your (heartbroken) Jay

10 hours later, there she was, in the middle of New York, looking up at the tall building in front of her, damn this jetlag was crippling, just go inside, you're cold and sleep deprived and you can't think straight. 'Beep' her heart jumped in her throat as her trembling, cold fingers unlocked her phone, tears unabashedly streaming down her face, you're sorry now? You stupid fuck! I thought you were the one, I finally gave in to thinking that I too deserved happiness and that I had finally found a real man, my man... The cold wind nearly turned her tears to ice, she quickly wiped them away with a heartfelt curse and pushed the key in the lock, up the stairs, push away the thought that he had been here too, don't think about those beautiful moments because they never existed, he wasn't real. The door creaked a little and she stomped inside the loft where she was met by the familiar scent of paint and thinner, she dropped her bag and walked up to the wall, there it was, her painting that had started this whole mess, he was right, it was absolutely ghastly, not an inch or smidge of talent visible. Jared.Sean..her parents, a devilish trinity..she kicked the canvas so hard it almost toppled over and she lost her balance, sinking to her knees to end up curled into a ball on the cold, hard concrete, crying her heart out, let me die, just let me die right here, right now, I'm ready.

”What do you mean, you can't do it? You can't play this show? Jared, you haven't got a choice, there's a sold-out venue waiting for you, they're all there!” Shannon yelled nervously at his brother. He looked a mess, bloodshot eyes, his hair carelessly pulled into a messy bun, slippers on his feet, trackpants, what the fuck was going on? He had been gone for three quarter of a day, hiking with Stevie only to come back to this, his brother a mess and Coco..nowhere to be seen. “Where's Harper? You two had a fight or something?” Jared's head shot up finally, “she's gone...she's gone!” and pushed back against Shannon. “What do you mean she's gone? You two had a fight?!..look, she just needs to blow off steam probably, have you called her?” Shannon didn't know what to say, and he didn't care, all that mattered was getting his brother on stage, he would care about his brother's lovelife later. “SHE WON'T PICK UP HER FUCKING PHONE”  he yelled, the vein under his eye dangerously close to popping while he started kicking the wall so hard with his foot he was sure he was gonna break it. “Hey! Jared, stop! Ok stop!” he grabbed his brother's shirt and shook him like he wanted to shake some sense into him, “she'll be back, alright? Stop worrying, it's a stupid fight, it's not the end of the world, she's just headstrong and needs to get things out of her system, you know what she's like..she walked off before, right?”. Jared's head carefully lifted, a gleam of hope in his eyes, ok keep going, this is going in the right direction, the direction of the stage “She'll be back, I promise, for all you know, she's standing in the crowd right now just to piss you off and surprise you later on”. Thousand of miles on the other side of the ocean, a young woman had trouble breathing, she didn't feel the cold that was slowly crippling her whole body, anymore, nothing mattered, nothingnothingnothing, just cover me in darkness.

[virmillion]

Ibytm - T minus 4 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 1,666

Logan scowls into his hands, tracing his eyes over the web of lines exploding across his palms. A world of mazes in which he’s determined to lose himself, if only so he can avoid eye contact with Virgil for that much longer. The air between them is frozen, frigid, fraught with all the words neither of them want to say. Well, not all the words. Virgil certainly seems keen to air out a few of his own.

“Are you kidding me? Now you’ve decided I have to go to college? Do you really think that little of my career? Or, no, wait, that’s right, you don’t think I should be allowed to call it a career. My bad.”

Logan balls his hands into fists and shakes his head, wondering whether he’d be allowed to explode again. It’s always Virgil that gets to be the emotional one, after all, so there’s no telling whether Logan would have to be the one to apologize for having the audacity to be emotional. Again. Stop being such a baby and grow up, Logan tells himself, the weight of his words smacking him in the face. He opens his mouth to explain to Virgil why he needs to think more rationally about this, but as it turns out, Virgil isn’t finished yet.

“You know, just because you found success by pursuing higher education doesn’t mean everyone has to. Patton dropped out in his second year and he’s doing fine. And don’t you dare bring Ariel into this, because she’s the exception to the rule. She’s going for her masters because she wants to set a good example for Morgan, who’s only being raised well because Patton isn’t toiling away in a school he doesn’t care about with money he doesn’t have. And don’t you dare talk to me about how college sets a good example for others, because I do not want to hear it.”

Resisting the urge to throw his own body across the room like a ragdoll, Logan takes a long, slow breath. “Are you quite done? All I said was that we got some pamphlets from the local community college, and I thought you might take a look at them.”

“Exactly! Because it’s only good enough that I should just—”

“Because you’re a smart guy, Virgil,” Logan interrupts. This seems to give Virgil pause as he paces around in the kitchen, doing a spectacular job of blocking any possible path from Logan’s current position on the couch to the keurig. “You need to do something with those smarts, or people are going to walk all over you.”

“What, people like you?”

“Name one time I have walked all over you.”

“I—when you—what about that time—oh, just shut up. You can’t put me on the spot with that crap.” Logan has long since given up on watching Virgil fret about this college thing (that isn’t even really a thing ), but it’s a pretty safe bet that his arms are in the air and his eyebrows are furrowed. “Plus, like, even if I did go to college—which I’m not saying I will! But even if I tried, it’s not like I’d get in. I’ve been out for way too long, they probably wouldn’t even take me. Where would I even get my transcripts? And anyway, you said yourself that everyone already walks all over me, so I shouldn’t bother.”

“Alright, well, first off, stop twisting my words, as it’s one of the few things you can do to appear unbecoming. Second, it’s a community college. I’m not sure that it’s even possible not to get in. Seriously, I’m pretty sure you just sign up and start taking classes, no entry bars or anything. Third, it’s always worth a shot.”

Finally done with his pacing, Virgil plops down on the far end of the couch and throws his head against the back. “It’s just—what would I even do with a degree? It costs, like, a metric buttload to get a degree in the first place, and that’s all time that I wouldn’t be getting tips at the museum. If I considered going, and if I even stuck around long enough to get a degree.”

“You only work at that museum twice a week, three times on good weeks, and you can still do fetch quests on the side. I make enough that I could help you through it, and once you have the degree—when, not if, it is a very sincere when —but when you have the degree, a good few companies are going to offer you a higher starting pay, or at the very least, you’ll have some more serious options that can pay more than an unofficial tour guide gets under the counter.” Logan glances at Virgil just in time to see him chuck one of the pamphlets at his head. “Hey, I’m just trying to help!”

“You’re just trying to change everything about me to suit your idea of perfection.”

“I didn’t—nothing I said had anything to do with—are we really getting stuck on this ferris wheel again?” There’s bitterness on Logan’s tongue, too much bitterness, enough that he can taste the venom in his words as they come out, but he can’t push them down. He won’t push them down, actually, not this time. “Nothing I’ve ever done has been because I don’t think you’re perfect. It’s actually because I know you’re perfect, and I want to help you see that. There’s so much more you could be doing, so much more you deserve to be doing, and you just refuse to even consider it because you’re happy with the level you’re at right now. You never want to improve yourself, and you’re so adamant about ignoring that that you never realize how easy it would be for you if you would just try.”

Virgil scowls, an agitated groan coming from the back of his throat. “Okay, Mom, you can drop the whole ‘proud of you’ lecture. I appreciate the compliment sandwich you just tried to force feed me, but I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

“You never want to hear it, though. You never have.” The conversation feels achingly similar to when Patton told the both of them off in the cafe, and Logan wonders whether this one will spiral just as quickly. “You always say—”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Yeah, that. You never want to talk about it, but we really need to—”

“That’s not fair to me. I don’t want to talk about it now, or maybe ever, so we shouldn’t have to.”

“And you always play that same fairness card, but only if it benefits—”

“Oh, because you running away and hiding at work because you’re afraid to admit that you aren’t infallible doesn’t benefit you?”

“I’ve only gone back to work, like, twice, as compared to your—”

“As if twice doesn’t count as a pattern that you’re always free to abuse, because you always stay late to avoid hashing out why you—”

“Just shut up and let me talk for once!” Logan’s shout echoes through the suddenly cramped apartment, a hollow thud of sharp consonants that hammers at his ears. Virgil stares at him, a mixture of shock and fury boiling just beneath the surface of his face.

Logan exhales, willing some semblance of calm back into his voice. “It is a talk that we need to have, because I do not agree with the lifestyle you’ve chosen, and you do not agree with the lifestyle I want to have. This has been a problem since long before we got married, and you not listening then means that we have no choice but to do this now. There is a dissension between us, and it only grows every time we refuse to communicate with each other. So for once, just for this one time, I need you to be quiet, and I need you to listen to me, and I need you to hear the words I’m saying.” Virgil inclines his chin but says nothing, and Logan finds himself much more nervous now than he was before his presentation for the director.

“There’s not—there’s no harm in trying. You need to—you should try new things, because it will help you grow as a person, and should anything happen to me or to Patton, or even to Roman, you will need things to fall back on, and you will need people to fall back on. We can’t all be there for you every time you have another flash of negative emotions, and I know that sucks to hear, but it’s true, and it’s one of the points you always call me out on for being unfair. In that same vein, you need to stop crying ‘unfair’ every time you’re mad at me. Just because something is fair to you, that doesn’t mean it’s fair to everyone else involved. If you’re holding a knife to my chest and I ask you to lift it off and you refuse because it’s too heavy to pick it up, leaving it there is fair to you, but unfair to me. That isn’t how fairness works, that’s not how compromise works, and that’s not how this relationship should work. We’ve been together this long, and I’m sick of toeing the line along our breaking point every time we bump up to a conversation that you’re too stubborn and too scared to have.”

Virgil opens his mouth, but nothing comes out—not a protest, not denial, just silence. Logan closes his eyes, waiting for another shouting match, another slammed door, another night of chasing Virgil around town, another awful shroud of silence, but the only sound to greet his ears is that of rustling paper. He opens his eyes and glances over to see Virgil leafing quickly through one of the pamphlets. Awash in a wave of relief, Logan sighs. And he smiles.