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handwrittenhello · 3 years

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gave you wings

T, Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer, 4k, modern-with-magic AU. When Geralt is woken one morning by a crow tapping at his window, he finds that it's no ordinary crow--it's a shifter, bound in animal form by a nasty spell.

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Geralt was roused from sleep by something persistent tapping at his window. With a groan, he rolled over—catching sight of his alarm clock flashing 3:48 as he did—and went to investigate.

He hoped it wasn’t one of the local kids again—lately they’d become far too fond of daring each other to throw rocks at his windows. It almost made him long for the times when witchers were feared and hated—nobody would dare risk provoking him so stupidly.

When he opened the window, though, it wasn’t kids throwing rocks—no, a crow sat on his windowsill, a pebble clutched in its beak, which it promptly dropped when it saw Geralt.

“Scram,” Geralt muttered, waving it away, but all it did was hop sideways a bit before letting out a loud caw.

Geralt furrowed his brow. “Get out of here,” he said a bit louder, trying to shoo it away again. It deftly avoided his hands, flapping a little to maintain balance on the narrow sill, before hopping onto his hands and letting out an even louder CAW.

This was no ordinary crow. Why else would it be tapping on his window so early in the morning, and so unafraid of his closeness? “Fuck,” he muttered, and left the window open while he went to brew a pot of coffee.

The crow seemed quite at home perched atop his kitchen counter, watching him with its beady eyes as he leaned back against the fridge and downed a cup of heavily sugared coffee. “So,” Geralt finally said, setting down his mug on the counter. “What’s so important that you got me out of bed at four in the morning for?”

The crow drew itself up and ruffled its feathers, as if readying itself for a speech. It was a strangely human gesture—Geralt was reminded that they wouldn’t get very far with the crow not being able to speak.

“Hm. Can you even understand me?” Geralt backtracked, earning himself an indignant look and a low rattling sound. But the crow bobbed its head up and down in a sure nod. “But you can’t speak.” Another nod.

The crow hopped closer, then, until it was almost atop Geralt’s hand lying on the countertop. Geralt caught a flash of something shiny around its leg—was there something wrapped around it? But when he made to reach for it, the crow skittered backwards, making another low rattle and fluffing up its feathers.

“It’s alright, I just want to look,” Geralt soothed, stilling his hand. The rattle stopped, and the bird hopped hesitantly closer. Geralt waited for it to come to him, motionless and patient. Only when it perched on his hand did he bring it closer, peering intently at its leg.

A silver chain, so fine as to be nearly invisible to the eye, wound its way around the crow’s leg. This close, he could see the barely-there, shimmering aura around it—it was surely enchanted. Likely a binding charm—chains rarely served any other purpose in spells.

Geralt whistled lowly. “No ordinary crow, then,” he surmised, though he’d already known. “Human?”

The crow rattled its displeasure at the term—so it wasn’t transfigured, then. But it was still clearly sentient—

“Ah,” Geralt said, an idea dawning. “A shifter.”

Sometimes called weyr, in the old tongue—as survived in words like werewolf—the species was exceedingly rare. Even before monsters and chaos had dwindled down to nearly nothing, one would be hard-pressed to encounter a shifter, let alone recognize one upon seeing it. In human form, they were indistinguishable from anyone else, by the naked eye or by magic. They retained their wits in their animal form, too, so unless one was careless enough to be seen shifting, it was nigh impossible for them to be caught.

Their rarity had made them a target by mages and non-mages alike—they were either hunted in hopes of harnessing their unique connection to chaos, or else were pursued by the ignorant who feared anything strange.

It was nothing short of a miracle, one showing up at Geralt’s door (or window, rather).

“Someone caught you. A mage,” Geralt guessed. Only a powerful magic user would be able to bind a shifter so thoroughly. “But why are you here?”

The crow cawed and launched itself towards Geralt’s throat. Geralt jerked his head back, but he had nothing to fear—the crow was pecking at the witcher medallion that lay in the hollow of his throat.

“My friend, you’d be far better off going to a mage. I have skill with breaking curses, but none so complex as yours,” Geralt confessed.

The crow let out an ear-splitting screech. Geralt slammed his hands over his ears. That would be a resounding no, then. He decided not to broach the matter of payment just then.

He eyed the crow, wary of another reaction. When none was forthcoming, he cautiously lowered his hands, the crow watching him intently all the while—waiting for an answer.

“I’ll help you,” Geralt decided. Well, he had decided the moment he’d let the crow inside, really, but it was easier to pretend he’d made an informed decision. “May I see the charm again?”

The crow obliged, fidgeting in place but mostly managing to hold still while Geralt inspected the chain. Though it was fine, he doubted it would be as simple as snapping it—that didn’t stop him from trying anyway, though the moment he touched it, the crow screeched and beat him back with its wings, before retreating to atop the fridge. There it huddled, fussing fretfully at its leg—and then Geralt saw, almost obscured by feathers but visible when looking for it, the dark skin beneath the chain, the blackened marks that resulted from a bad burn.

“Enchanted and cursed, then. I apologize.” The crow glared at him, not moving from its spot stop the fridge and out of reach. “I won’t touch it again. I promise,” Geralt vowed, sorry that he had caused any pain in the first place.

The crow huffed, but flapped back down to the counter. It watched Geralt, waiting for his next move.

“Come with me,” Geralt said, grabbing his jacket and keys.

The crow gripped the handlebars of Geralt’s motorbike tightly, the wind whipping past and threatening to dislodge it. It kept starting to open its wings, only to force them closed again, as if it was reminding itself that it wasn’t actually flying. Geralt kept a close watch anyway, afraid that if he took a turn too sharply or revved the engine too suddenly, the crow would be thrown off and crushed beneath the wheels of another vehicle.

Should’ve taken a taxi, Geralt thought to himself, but it was too late now. They were already on the freeway to Vengerberg, where a certain violet-eyed sorceress kept a summer home. He supposed he could have called ahead, but he still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of cell phones—always forgot it whenever he went anywhere—and besides, Yennefer always appreciated a good surprise.

Geralt chased the sun east, watching as the horizon in front of him slowly went from indigo blue to purple to stunning gold as the sun rose. They crossed the border into Aedirn sometime mid-morning, and Geralt pulled over to a rest stop to refuel and grab something to eat.

The crow perched atop his shoulder as he entered the gas station, preening its feathers into place after being disturbed by the wind. The attendant stared openly, though Geralt was sure she must have seen weirder. He ignored it and grabbed a packet of sunflower seeds for the crow and some beef jerky for himself.

“Five sixty-eight,” the attendant said when he came up to the register, followed by, “Nice pet.”

The crow looked up from its preening and cawed loudly at her.

“He’s not a pet,” Geralt said mildly, then grabbed his food and left. While he stretched his legs out at a picnic table, the crow stretched its wings, flapping in circles above his head. Every so often, it would land briefly on the table and peck at the sunflower seeds Geralt had scattered there, before returning to its circling.

Geralt ate his jerky leisurely, and debated going back in for a soda.

After half an hour, Geralt felt they had delayed long enough. The crow was likely anxious to get going, and Geralt would be lying if he said he wasn’t as well. He got to his feet and whistled for the crow, which had steadily flown in greater and greater circles, and had since disappeared briefly from sight. Geralt wasn’t overly worried—until the crow didn’t show up. Geralt wished he knew what to call it—he would’ve felt stupid calling it ‘crow’.

He whistled again, louder and longer this time. Nothing happened for one second, two, and then Geralt heard it, and only thanks to his enhanced senses—frantic cawing and flapping wings among the trees behind the rest stop.

He broke out into a run, pushing aside the thin branches that snapped at his face as he fought his way through the undergrowth. The cawing was near, now, and Geralt heard tense voices accompanying.

“The cage—get the cage—!”

Geralt broke through the trees to a small clearing, stopping stunned at the sight in front of him. A silver woven net lay tangled in a heap on the ground in one corner, and opposite was a steel cage, door hanging open and waiting for an occupant. There were feathers scattered everywhere, and Geralt smelled traces of blood in the air.

And in the middle of the clearing was the source of the commotion—the crow flapped wildly above the heads of two men, talons extended and trying to scratch at their faces, while they flailed about with nets, not unlike the kind used to catch insects, though a bit bigger. A third man, older, wizened, stood apart, his eyes closed in concentration as he muttered something under his breath. Geralt’s breath caught in his throat.

Stregobor.

It had been centuries since Geralt had seen him, though he’d heard plenty about his latest exploits in the news—he was said to be making great strides in magical research, investigating transformative magic and its applications. Geralt had often tuned it out, but now it all made sense—if he wasn’t the one who had bound the crow shifter to a single form for some nefarious purpose, Geralt would eat his bike.

He wasted no time in instantly tackling Stregobor to the ground, disrupting the spell he was casting. The crow seemed to be holding its own against the two men with nets for the time being, though Geralt knew he needed to hurry—the scent of blood was growing stronger, the crow actively bleeding. He had the element of surprise, and didn’t waste it—he grappled with Stregobor, surprised at the strength the old mage still had even after so many centuries.

There was a sudden cry of pain behind him—Geralt thought it was human and not avian, but he couldn’t tell for sure. It distracted him momentarily, and that was all Stregobor needed to shout something in Elder that had Geralt flying backwards.

His back hit the ground hard, stunning him for half a second. Stregobor got to his feet, brushing the debris from his clothes—he still wore robes, even after all this time—and shot a bolt of light towards the crow.

It hit it in the wing, sending it tumbling out of the air in a heap of feathers. One of the men with a net—the only one still standing, the other writhing on the ground and clutching his bleeding face—slammed his net down onto the motionless crow with far too much force.

Geralt caught his breath and rolled to his feet, launching himself at the man that had the crow captive. He knocked him unconscious easily with a swift blow to the head, but that was as far as he got before Stregobor sent another pulse of magic towards him.

He dodged. It missed him by a hair, screaming past his head and exploding against a tree behind him.

“Stay out of this, witcher,” Stregobor warned, readying another spell. “This doesn’t have to concern you.”

“Let the shifter go and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Stregobor replied, and threw the spell at Geralt. Geralt dodged again, but too slowly—it clipped his arm. Hot, agonizing pain spread from the area.

If this turned into a fight between magic and witcher skills, there was no question who would win. Geralt made a snap decision, scooping the crow off the ground and darting out of the clearing, heading back towards the rest stop.

Stregobor was hopefully depleted after the many spells he had already cast—Geralt could only hope that he wasted the rest of his energy by chasing him through the brush. If they could just get to Yennefer’s…

Sure enough, as he sprinted towards his bike, Geralt heard Stregobor yelling curses behind him. Once or twice a bolt of magic went flying by, but it missed every time.

As Geralt broke through the tree line, he hoped that he had finally lost Stregobor. He straddled his bike and tucked the crow inside his jacket, hissing in apology when he jarred the crow’s injured wing. With a roar of the engine he peeled out onto the freeway, speeding east to Vengerberg.

Though there was nobody pursuing them, Geralt still felt hunted as he pulled his bike into Yennefer’s expansive driveway. He all but ran to her door, pounding urgently on it, regretting not calling ahead so that she knew to expect them.

Luckily, she answered only moments later. “Do you have wards up?” was the first thing Geralt asked.

“Yes. Do you know how alarming it is for that to be the first thing you say after not seeing each other for months?” Yennefer asked, beckoning him in.

“Have to be sure,” Geralt grunted. “Got a problem, and I don’t know if I was followed.”

“Would it kill you to bring flowers or wine instead of a problem every time you come by?” Yennefer sighed. “What is it?”

Geralt unzipped his jacket and carefully extracted the crow. It was no longer unconscious, but drowsy would be an understatement—it looked on the verge of a coma, eyes half-closed and breathing shallow. A few loose feathers drifted to the ground.

“Pest Services might be more apt,” Yennefer started to say, but paused when the silver chain caught her eye. “Ah. Binding spell? Friend of yours?”

“No. I’m for hire,” Geralt said, conveniently leaving out the part where he’d received no such payment. “It’s a shifter. Wanted by Stregobor—probably for research.”

The skin around Yennefer’s eyes tightened ever so slightly—he dared to call it concern for the shifter—and she gritted her teeth—and that he knew was deep-rooted hatred for Stregobor.

“Bring him to my workroom.”

He followed her upstairs, where she kept most of her magical equipment. With a wave of her hand, she cleared the books and various sundries from the worktable against the wall, and indicated for Geralt to lay the crow down on it. He did so carefully, mindful of its injuries, and hesitantly stepped back. Yennefer didn’t appreciate hovering, but he couldn’t fight back his protective instincts that had been roaring ever since the fight.

Yennefer leaned over the crow, inspecting. Her hands went to the chain, and Geralt’s heart skipped a beat. “Don’t,” he warned, stepping forward and reaching out as if to physically stop her.

“I know,” she snapped back. “Believe it or not, I’ve seen a binding spell or two in my time, Geralt.” But she showed demonstrably more care in handling the crow, then, lest he become alarmed again.

She moved on to inspecting the crow’s wing, then, frowning at what she saw. “This was a magical injury, yes?”

“Yes. One of Stregobor’s spells—it was a bolt of light, caught it in the wing.”

“Well, lucky for it, the damage is physical only, from what I can tell. Stregobor likely meant to stun it only. Hence the lifelessness. It’ll wear off within the hour.”

Geralt let out a sigh of relief at hearing the diagnosis. Physical injuries, those he knew what to expect, how to deal with them. Now what worried him most was the binding spell.

“And the chain? Can you remove it without hurting it?”

Yennefer pursed her lips. “No. It’s an extremely strong bond—the sort not taken as a trifle. Forging a connection like this without the shifter’s consent…” She shook her head. “It’s a violation of the worst sort, Geralt.”

Geralt’s heart thudded in his chest. He wet his lips. “So what do we do?” He gazed at the poor crow, looking so small and hopeless where it lay. He couldn’t put words to his horror—being bound body and soul, and to Stregobor, no less.

“There are… theories, things I’ve read, but you have to understand,” Yennefer said, pinning his gaze, “I don’t suggest what I’m about to lightly.”

A pit formed in Geralt’s stomach. “What is it?” It couldn’t be worse than the binding spell, could it?

“If we formed another bond, one even stronger than this, it would give us room to throw off the old one. But the strength required… it would be ironclad, unbreakable. The shifter would spend the rest of its very long life bound to us.”

Even now, some eight hundred years later, Geralt thought back to the djinn in Rinde, to the connection that had once bound their destinies together, and he knew she was remembering it too. “Yen…” he trailed off. How did he put it to words? How did he express his understanding, acknowledge that she was trying to help, while warning her of doing the same thing she’d opposed so strongly then?

But then, looking into her eyes and seeing the haunted look there, he knew that he didn’t have to. She had already had this conversation with herself, and, seeing no other option, had accepted her role as becoming exactly what she hated.

A weak croak caught their attention. Geralt looked over and saw that the crow was looking slightly more lively—it had managed to sit up, at least, though it still looked bedraggled and unsteady. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, and received a delayed nod. Then a thought struck him. “Yen, can you…?”

“Read his thoughts? I would, but they’re too muddled. I don’t know if it’s the result of the spell or if it’s always like this in animal form. I’ve never met a shifter personally, and gods know there’s hardly any literature on them.”

The crow got shakily to its feet, and before either Geralt or Yennefer could stop it, it flew up to perch on Geralt’s shoulder, nuzzling in close to his neck. He instinctively put a hand up to cradle it in place—the last thing it needed was to fall off.

“Well, then? Clearly it’s gotten attached,” Yennefer said, arching an eyebrow.

“I don’t—I don’t know.” How could he make this decision? It was too big, too important. He held the shifter’s life in his hands, and the knowledge terrified him.

The crow nipped him on the ear. “Ow,” Geralt complained, but was drowned out by the crow cawing in his ear. He suddenly felt very foolish indeed—the crow had heard them discussing it, must have, and they hadn’t even considered asking it its opinion of the matter. “Hm. I’m sorry that we can’t give you a better option.”

The crow cawed again, softer, and nibbled gently at his ear. It’s alright, it seemed to be saying, or perhaps I understand.

“It’s your decision,” Yennefer said. “I can bind you to us—permanently—in order to break the bond with Stregobor. Or, if you’d rather, you can live out your days here, and I give you my word that no harm will you come to you—though the bond would remain.”

The crow rattled in disgust. It nipped gently once more at Geralt’s ear, then flapped-hopped over to Yennefer’s shoulder, where it began preening her hair. Geralt couldn’t believe that she would allow it, but she made no move to dislodge the crow.

“Is that a yes?” he asked nervously, anticipation curdling in his stomach. The crow stopped its preening, looked directly at Geralt, and bobbed its head up and down neatly.

“Alright,” Yennefer said softly.

They cleared out all the furniture for the ritual that would replace the bond. The crow watched them, perched atop the table, until they had to move that too, and then it clung to Geralt’s shoulder as he worked. Finally, the room was clear, and Yennefer drew a large chalk circle on the floor.

Geralt took his designated seat warily, nerves making his skin prickle. Yennefer sat opposite him, legs crossed, while the crow was sat in between. Yennefer dimmed the lights and closed her eyes—he copied her, relying on his other senses.

He smelled smoke as Yennefer lit the bundle of herbs she’d gathered, heard the soft susurrus of the crow’s feathers as it shifted. As she began to chant, he felt the characteristic tingle of magical energy settling over him like a second skin—the bonding had started.

Yennefer’s chanting grew steadily louder, and behind his eyelids Geralt saw the light of the candles flare even brighter. The crow’s fidgeting grew wilder, and little croaks began to make their way out of its throat.

Geralt hoped it wasn’t hurting—and if it was, he hoped it would be over soon.

He himself was in no pain at all, besides the discomfort that came with all magic cast on him. He gritted his teeth and bore it, until all at once it stopped—the candles went out, Yennefer gasped once, and the silver chain around the crow’s leg fell to the floor with a soft clink.

Geralt’s eyes flew open, and where the crow had been only moments before, there was now a pair of legs—bare—and when Geralt followed them upwards, there was an entire man—also bare. Geralt blinked a few times, mind blank, before averting his gaze.

“Well,” the shifter said, smacking his lips. “That was unpleasant.” And Geralt watched as his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, too quickly for Geralt to catch him.

“He’ll be fine,” Yennefer said, getting to her feet. She swayed a little as she stood, and Geralt ached to steady her—something she would never accept. “The bonding took a lot out of all of us—him most of all.”

Geralt hummed, gathering up the shifter in his arms. He weighed more than he looked—or perhaps Geralt was simply used to his weight as a crow. While Yennefer put her things back in order, Geralt carried the shifter to the guest room, tucking him into bed and feeling strangely fond as he did so.

“It’s the bond,” Yennefer explained, leaning in the doorway and watching the whole affair. She ambled over to the bed and sat down next to the shifter, reaching over to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Can you feel it?”

He could, he realized, when he reached deep inside. Just beside the djinn’s magic that tied him to Yennefer, he felt a fledgling something, a fluttering newness that nipped and tugged at his breastbone.

“That’s him?” Geralt asked, though he didn’t need the confirmation—he knew it as surely as he knew himself.

Yennefer nodded, dropping her arm and standing up. “Leave him to his rest. I imagine he’ll need some time to acclimate to the bond—we all will, for that matter.”

Though Geralt wanted nothing more than to stay and study the shifter, watch over him until he woke, he followed Yennefer out of the room, shutting the door softly so as not to disturb him.

The shifter woke some hours later, after Geralt and Yennefer had eaten a late lunch and were debating if it would be worth eating dinner. The shifter stumbled down the stairs, interrupting their discussion, and said, quite plainly, “Are we talking dinner? I’m starving.”

“You’re up,” Yennefer replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” the shifter—Geralt really needed to ask his name—answered. “Sunflower seeds are nice and all, but really, nothing compares to a good hot meal.”

He was wrapped in the bedsheet, Geralt realized suddenly. Of course—he had no clothes. It didn’t seem to overly bother him, though, as he crossed the room and promptly deposited himself on Geralt’s lap, wiggling a bit to get comfortable. Geralt’s hands came up automatically to wrap around his waist.

“And your wing?” Yennefer asked.

“Oh, good as new!” the shifter replied cheerily, untangling his arm from the bedsheet and wiggling it in demonstration. “Healed right up as soon as that awful binding spell was gone.” He turned to look at Geralt. “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to help me—I know it was a lot of trouble.”

“It’s alright,” Geralt answered. “I wouldn’t leave you to Stregobor.”

The shifter shuddered. Geralt held him a bit tighter. “Ugh. He caught me unaware—normally I’m careful, but this very handsome man bought me a drink, and then another, and then before I knew it I was being manhandled into the back of a car. And I thought, well, can’t be manhandled if I’m not a man, but then he had that awful chain…”

“You’re not the first to fall victim to him. Though binding a shifter to him is a new low,” Yennefer said darkly.

Guilt tightened in Geralt’s gut. It was different, what they had done—but was it really? It was still a bond the shifter had been forced into. He moved the shifter off his lap, ignoring the hurt look that he flashed him. “Need to go for a walk,” Geralt grunted, and headed for the door.

“Don’t mind him,” he heard Yennefer say behind him. “Let him clear his head and then he’ll be back. In the meantime—what do you say to pasta?”

The door shut heavily behind Geralt, cutting off their voices, giving him room to think. The bond still pulsed heartily in his chest, but like this, it was muted enough for him to catch his breath.

How was the shifter so blasé about it? Surely he understood the fact that he was now permanently bound to two strangers?

Geralt jammed his hands in his pockets and started to walk, focusing only on his feet hitting the ground and the evening calls of the bird around him.

By the time his thoughts had settled and he’d made his way back to the house, the sun was setting, and a deep tiredness was settling into his bones. The early morning and excitement of the day were catching up with him.

He could hear Yennefer and the shifter inside, chatting, and hesitated on the doorstep. He suddenly felt as if he were intruding—what right did he have to storm off in the middle of a conversation and expect them to welcome him back seamlessly? Clearly they were getting along just fine without him.

The door opened suddenly and a gust of wind at his back urged him inside. Yennefer. He let her guide him to the kitchen, where the shifter stood washing dishes at the sink and she sat on the counter. “Ah, you’re back!” the shifter said, setting down the plate it was washing.

“Jaskier was just telling me about your trip here. It sounded quite exciting,” Yennefer teased.

“I like a bit of adventure, but I could do without the almost-kidnapping,” Jaskier said, leaning in closer to Geralt. “Lucky I had you there, I suppose.”

“Hm.” Geralt hesitantly lifted an arm, and Jaskier wasted no time in burrowing into his side. “Lucky.”

“And lucky you have such wonderful friends as Yennefer,” Jaskier continued, looking meaningfully at Yennefer. She raised an eyebrow, but hopped off the counter and sidled closer. Geralt let her sink into his side too, holding them both tightly, and felt the thrumming bond inside of him settle in contentment at having them close.

Lucky indeed.

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskefer #yenralt #yenskier #yennskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt/jaskier/yennefer #the witcher fanfiction #witcher fanfiction #geralt #jaskier #yennefer

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thelittleplantlover · 3 years

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Jetlagged buglar - Corpse x reader

Thank you so much @stylistiquements for letting me know about your prompt list. Finally, I am posting my spin on one of your lovely prompts. I really appreciate your patience and support <3

Pronounce: gender neutral

Warnings: none (mention of burglar)

Genre: fluff; platonic

Word count: 1996

Prompt: "I know it's 4 in the morning but ..."

~ A buglar broke into Corpse’s apartment, or at least that’s what he thinks.~

Corpse watches as his beloved green astronaut friend dramatically fell into the pool of lava. He had been, and still is, so sure Sykkuno is not one of the imposters of this round. The boy had also pleaded for his life, claiming his innocence, but to no avail. He had been found standing on top of Emma’s body by Jack. There had been no escape.

The new round began and forced him into action. The last thing he had wanted was to frame Sykkuno for his kill. It did buy him an alibi from Emma, who had met up with him in decontamination. She had not been experienced enough to realise Corpse had come from the direction of the kill to suspect him a little bit. She had quickly covered his ass and now he was free to begin his actual killing spree.

He decided that Emma should be kept alive as she seemed to be trusting him this round. His second kill was Brooke. She had been standing at the tree and it was all too easy to close the doors and hop into the vent. He met up with Emma afterwards again before splitting off to chase Tina into storage for another kill. Just as her little character fell to the floor, another body was reported. Not one he has made.

He listened to Dave describing where he had found the body when loud clattering of metal pulled him out of his concentration. He had heard rumour during this stream before. Soft sounds had distracted him momentarily now and then, making him question whether his neighbours were at it again. They could get pretty loud during arguments or resolving them. This clattering could not have been from his neighbours. It was too loud and not at all a sound he had heard from the other side of the wall before.

His attention was pulled back when someone questioned his location.

“Guys, I think someone is in my apartment.” He cautiously announced. Not wanting to be too loud in case the intruder could hear him.

“Sure! Where were you Corpse?” Rae interrogated him. Her voice strict and accusing. He quickly defended himself. He had not heard anything else, so maybe it did come from the neighbours. His defence, although slightly flawed, was accepted and Leslie was thrown out. The reason unknown to him as he had not listened to their conversation.

One more kill and the game would be won. He did not hesitate to call reactor to avoid one of the crewmates pressing the button. As he walked up to the left reactor, the victory screen played. A choired of no’s filled his ears, while Jack celebrated his win with Corpse. Normally he would join the celebration. This time another loud noise came from his living space.

“Guys. Guys. GUYS.” He whisper-yelled to get everyone’s attention. When only the among us theme came from his headphones he continued. “There is someone in my apartment. If I don’t return in ten minutes presume I am dead.” Without waiting for an answer, Corpse muted himself and took of his headphones. Grabbing a knife just to be sure in case there was indeed an intruder, he quietly stood up from his chair.

He had closed his door as usual. Hopefully, the intruder had not heard him speak. He had not been loud today due to his throat being slightly sore from being on other people’s streams lately. It might have helped him going undetected. Still, he was not fully sure whether or not there was an actual thief in his apartment. In the time he has speculated them being here and Corpse finally getting on the move the unknown presence had not moved from the main space. He was sure it would not take a thief that long to go through all his cabinets and other storage.

Slowly he opened the door to take a peek towards the origin of the loud noises. He could feel his heartbeat. The palm holding the doorknob clam. The lights were on, but he did not remember whether he himself forgot to turn them off or someone else had turned them on.

A thief would not turn the light on if they were on. Or this would have to be a very low experienced burglar.

Hearing no new sounds, he decided it was safe to investigate a little further. Corpse made sure to keep his eyes on the parts of his living room he could see, slowly making his way through the short hallway. When he finally arrived in the largest room, he did not spot anyone. No closets were opened nor was his stuff spread out on the floor. He let out a loud sigh. The loud noise had come from the neighbours after all.

Suddenly a head appeared above the counter, which provoked a loud scream to come out him. His heartbeat sped up again as he held his knife in front of him. He immediately lowered it when he realised who it was that stood in the middle of his kitchen.

The person in question seemed frozen. Eyes wide and arms filled with the snacks that previously housed the cabinets. None of them said anything, just staring at the other. Slowly they unloaded their arms on the counter.

"Look-," they were cut off by Corpse's hysterical laugh. After the initial shock of someone actually being in his house, laughing was all he could do to release the tension that had built inside him. The person behind the counter blinked dumbfounded before starting to whine.

"Corpse! Stop it's not funny!" Corpse on the other hand found the situation hilarious. The state he had found one of his best friends, (y/n), in was not one he would forget soon. It was not often you could find them in a total state of shock. The realisation that they had been busted red handed was imprinted on his retina.

"I thought you were a burglar!" Not that they were not. Except there is still a large difference between stealing a tv from a stranger or candy from your best friend. It was not unusual for Corpse to find (y/n) in his apartment holding a package of food. Sometimes, even his secret stash was raided. He had long topped from finding other placed to hide his special treats. It had always been to no avail.

The fact that he had not thought about the possibility of (y/n) being the one that broke into his home was due their vacation. Corpse had believed they would not be back in the States until later this week. If he had known they would be back already, he would not have assumed some burglar had though he could get anything valuable from this building.

"What? Why- okay. I know it's 4 in the morning, but I am extremely jetlagged, and I saw you go live so I knew you would be awake!” Corpse’s laughing subdued during the hastily explanation of the situation, leaving (y/n) to fiddle with one of the packed goods.

"I am pretty sure those are all the snack I own.” Corpse pointed to the snacks that now littered his counter. It was not much. A bag of potato chips, some candy bars, a pack of nuts he never ate one the plane and a pack of sour patches. (y/n) simply squinted their eyes at him, making him return the favour.

“They are mine now.” They slowly scooped the snacks off the counter into their arms again. He bursts out in laughter again, almost teared up from the look on their face. Snacks pushed flush to their chest, eyes that were squinted so far by now they had almost closed. Their nose and lips crunched. “Mine.” Was the last they said before making their way towards Corpse’s streaming room.

He had almost forgotten he was live due to the initial shock of someone being in this home. Quickly catching up with (y/n) he glided into his chair. The lobby screen was still on display and his chat flew by. All he could make out that he still had a few minutes before his agreed 10. He quickly unmuted to reassure his friend and chat that he was not harmed in anyway.

“I swear on my life Rae that I am fi-,” He failed to finish the sentence due to (y/n)’s facial expression. Dumb was the best way to describe it. They sat in a comfy chair next to him with their legs pulled up and their eyes were fixed on the screen, looking at some of the characters running circles around his. Their lips in a straight line, somehow still smiling.

Hiss laughter had caught their attention away. In response they grabbed one of his pillows of his bed that was just into reach.

"Stop. making. fun. of me!" Hitting Corpse rhythmically with their words. He tried to shield himself with his arms. Seeing as he could not stop his fit of laughter and his stomach started to hurt slightly, he was dubious whether to protect his head to hold is stomach.

The new voice that arose was recognized by two other people that have met up with Corpse in real life before, Dave and Emma.

"Is that (y/n)?" Dave’s English accent came out strong through Corpse’s headphones. He waved at (y/n) to stop hitting him for a second to catch his breath and answer the question he was asked. Dave, knowing more than enough to know the dynamic of these two, waited patiently on his answer. Rae on the other hand became hearable impatient by the long silence from Corpse’s side.

“Corpse. Answer the question!”

He slowly in and out haled to calm himself. A long loud sigh leaving his lips, before he answered the question. "Yes, yes, that's (y/n). Although I was right about the burglar as well. They are trying to raid my kitchen.”

(y/n) immediately sprang into action to react on that statement. Not wanting to be put in a bad light all by themselves. No, they would always happily share that special spot with a good friend. "Correct, TRYING. You literally do not have any food!"

"You dumped your arms full of MY snacks on MY table. Where I need space to actually play this game.” Corpse retorted.

“I think we established they are MY snacks now. Besides this is all you have. And it is not even touching your keyboard!” That statement was true. (y/n) had made sure to place the snack so that they did not hinder Corpse in their movements during his stream. A second reason for the snack to be not in close reach for Corpse was not named.

“I paid for those snacks.” It was a weak response. Corpse knew. But he rather let the bickering end sooner than later. His fans had been waiting anxiously for him to return and did not come to watch only to hear them bickering. However, looking at his chat they did not seem to mind at all. Still, there were more streamers live which audience might have a different opinion on that matter.

“Well, you did not pay for either Emma or me and we are definitely better snacks than I could ever find here.” They pointed to their friend’s little yellow character. “So, I think I will take these as payment thank you very much.”

Corpse burst out laughing again a few seconds after, clutching his stomach that could barely take any more damage. (y/n) very well knew that whatever they had said was not funny at all. Or at least not this funny.

"What are they saying? Unplug your headphones!” (y/n) demanded while scooting the chair closer to the monitor.

After unplugging his headphones, Corpse asked Emma to repeat herself to share the comment with their mutual friend. He quickly pressed a button to increase the volume when she spoke up.

“We’re only worth five snacks??”

#corpse x reader #corpse x you #corpse #thelittleplantlover writes #stylistiquements

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hardcasey · 3 years

Text

Sweet Tooth

Won't Fade into the Background - Part 2

Pairing: Toast x F!Reader

Summary: You are an owner of a bakery on Coruscant and end up running into a certain clone with a penchant for baked goods.

Word Count: 7k (I got carried away lmao)

Rating/Warnings: T, Mostly fluff again, though it gets a little PG-13 at the end. Nothing too crazy tho.

A/N: Who’s more of a background clone than everyone’s fave boy Toast? I decided to give him the classic bakery au meet-cute that he deserves. <3 Not proofread so let me know if there are any glaring errors!

“You sure you don’t need any help cleaning up?” Your employee, Vella, called from the front of the shop.

You poked your head out through the little window that separated the kitchen from the rest of the store. “I’m good, Vel. Go enjoy your Friday night.”

“Alright, night boss,” The Twi’lek woman gave you a mock salute and laughed when she saw you roll your eyes before turning and heading out the door into the busy Coruscant streets.

You turned back to your current task, taking inventory. It was not the most glamorous job, in fact it was your least favorite part about owning your own business, but it had to be done. With a sigh, you started counting, quickly losing yourself in the monotony.

You were the proud owner of a small bakery on Coruscant. It was not the most lucrative job by far, but it had always been your dream to bake for a living, and you were proud to have achieved that goal so quickly. It had taken a lot of hard work to get to where you were now, along with quite a bit of luck. You had been finishing up your last year in culinary school when you walked by a place for rent right in the heart of the city. It had been right around when the war started, and the owner wanted to sell off the space as quickly as possible. You had the sneaking suspicion that he may have been involved with the Separatists and was trying to jump ship and flee the planet. Honestly, you didn’t really care what his deal was, only that he was giving you the place for a steal. Seppie or not, you were thankful for him. There was no other way you would have been able to afford a place in this part of the city otherwise.

You had dropped a considerable portion of your savings into the purchase and renovation of the bakery, and there were times that you were subsisting off of nothing but cheap instant noodles, but everything had worked out in the end. The prime location meant there was a lot of foot traffic and it didn’t take long before you were turning a profit. And the quality of your pastries and baked goods earned you a loyal customer base, and you had many regulars that stopped in for a cup of caf and a little treat on their way to work.

Once you finished up taking inventory, you headed out to the front to start cleaning up, stacking the chairs up on the tables so you could start sweeping. You were saving up for a droid that would sweep the floors for you, but you were still a ways off from that so you had to do it the old fashioned way.

It was then that you noticed there was someone looking in through the window, clearly ogling the display of pastries and cakes that was there. The light from the setting sun pouring through the window cast their face in shadow, so you couldn’t tell who it was.

Might as well invite them in, you thought to yourself as you leaned the broom against the wall. After all, the bakery wasn’t technically closed yet, though you almost never had customers at this time.

You swung the door open and were about to say something to the figure when you saw them jump, clearly not realizing you were there.

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry for scaring you! I just wanted to let you know that the bakery is still open if you want anything.” You said gently, holding your hands up in a placating manner.

Now that you were outside, you could see the figure more clearly. They were a human male, with tan skin and warm brown eyes. He was wearing a grey uniform and his short dark hair was partly obscured by a matching grey hat. He seemed very familiar to you, and you were about to ask if you knew him, before it hit you. Duh! He was a clone. You weren’t used to seeing clones in anything other than their distinctive white armor, so it took a moment for your brain to put two and two together.

“Oh, uh, I was just looking, ma’am! I’m very sorry.” He said quickly, the same way that a kid who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar would. He looked so sheepish, as if he was about to bolt any second. You weren’t sure why he was so apologetic, he was just looking through the window. A bunch of people did that.

“No need to apologize, everyone looks through the windows.” You said, flashing him what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I, uh, just wasn’t sure if you were gonna run me out or something,” he told you, averting his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why would I do that?”

“Not many businesses are open to clones, and I wasn’t sure. I’ve never seen any clones in your shop and I guess I just assumed.”

Okay, that lowkey made your blood boil. Why would anyone discriminate against the clones? They were the ones putting their lives on the line to protect the Republic, for kriffs sake! You hadn’t interacted with many clones, but the ones you had run into were nothing but polite and respectful.

“That’s terrible! We absolutely allow clones here! You know what, come inside. There are still some pastries leftover from today. I’ll put them in a box for you and you can bring them back to your, er, squad? Company? Your friends!” You finished breathlessly, a little embarrassed you knew so little about anything involving the military.

“Are you sure? I-I don’t have any money to pay for them,” He said sadly, his eyes darting down to his shoes as if there was suddenly something fascinating about them.

“Nonsense! They’ll be going bad soon anyway and will just end up in the trash. You’ll be doing me a favor, honestly.” Without allowing him to protest further, you grabbed his elbow and tugged him into your shop. In the back of your mind you registered how big his bicep felt, which surprised you. He looked fit, yes, but it wasn’t like he was some meathead. Maybe his uniform just did a good job of disguising how strong he was. You felt yourself blush once you realised the path your thoughts had veered down and quickly pushed them out of your mind.

“It smells good in here,” he said to no one in particular as he dropped his harm and headed behind the counter to start filling a box with leftover pastries.

You smiled at him, before you realised something. “Forgive my manners, but I didn’t catch your name.”

“CT-1928, ma’am.” He replied, his back straightening ever so slightly as he did, as if the action was ingrained in him.

“Do you have a nickname? I know a lot of clones go by them instead of their number.” You said delicately. You didn’t want to offend him by asking, but it felt so strange, so dehumanizing, to call him by a number.

“Oh, uh, my brothers call me Toast.” He said, once again sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not the greatest nickname, but it’s the one that stuck.”

“Haha, I think it’s cute. And don’t worry, my parents used to call me Possum when I was little, because I used to climb around and get into the trash. It was cute until they said it in front of my friends, then they started calling me that too.”

He laughed at that, his shoulders relaxing, his posture not so stiff. “My brothers started calling me Toast because the first time they served toast in the cafeteria after I got my assignment, I ate so many pieces I made myself sick.”

“Pfft. That’s amazing,” You laughed as you shuffled things around so you could fit one last croissant inside. You got the sense the clones didn’t often get to have sweets, so you were going to make sure Toast could bring as many back as possible. “So are you here on shore leave?”

“I’m actually a member of the Coruscant Guard. So I’m here often. Well all the time. I walk by this place every time they send me off to run errands, which is often since I’m still the new guy.”

“Oh, that’s cool. That means you work with senators, right? That must be… something.” You’d read stories on the holonet about some of the more notorious senators and you doubted they treated the clones particularly well.

“I haven’t personally worked with any members of the senate, though a lot of my brothers have. Most of my day is spent staring at security cameras. So, pretty boring. Though I’m not complaining.”

You tied up the package with a neat little bow before handing it to him, another bright smile flashing across your face. Something about his earnest, open demeanor was very endearing to you and you secretly hoped you’d get to see him again soon. If not anything else, you could at least learn a little more about the clones that dedicated their lives to protecting the Republic, since your knowledge on the subject was apparently so lacking.

“Well it’s good to hear that you’re local. Hopefully you can stop by again the next time you’re running errands. And feel free to invite your brothers too!”

“T-thank you, ma’am. That is very kind of you.” He said before taking the box of pastries in his hand, holding it almost reverently. He was trying to hide it but you could tell he was very excited to eat some sweets later.

With one last nod he headed out of the store, the bell chiming lightly after him. You stood there, simply watching his receding form blend into the crowd, catching yourself smiling at the prospect of seeing him again.

~~~

Toast hadn’t made it three steps into the barracks before his vode were descending upon him. Well not really him as much as the box full of sugary confections in his hands.

“What ya got there?” Jek inquired, already tugging at the ribbon to investigate the box’s contents.

Toast shoved his greedy hands out of the way and marched over to the counter where they kept the caf machine, which was in a perpetual state of disarray. The caf machine was old, probably older than any of them, and saw high traffic 24/7. Honestly, with the amount it leaked and sputtered, it was a miracle the machine was still functioning. Toast hoped it would at least until the war was over because when it went, Fox would be in the grave right next to it.

“You know that bakery on the way back from the Jedi temple?” Toast inquired as he placed the box on the counter, starting to pick at the knot so he could open it without cutting the ribbon. It was a pretty striped pastel pink and he wanted to keep it.

“The one with the little tooka-shaped cookies?” Rhys’ eyes went wide with excitement.

“Yeah, the lady who worked there saw me looking inside and then gave me all the leftover pastries from the window.”

“For free!?” Jek exclaimed as he shuffled back towards the box, “What did you get? Did you get an eclair? Please tell me you got an eclair.” Toast nodded and handed his brother one, who promptly dug in.

“What’s this about eclairs?” Stone rounded the corner, instantly noticing the box and saddling up to him. “Did you get sweets?”

Toast spent the next few minutes divvying up the various pastries between everyone. He chose something made up of many thin layers of dough, filled with chopped nuts and soaked in honey. Baklava, he thinks it was called, or maybe balaclava? He didn’t know the difference. But he didn’t care as he devoured it, savoring each bite like it was something precious. He glanced around and saw all his brothers were experiencing similar states of bliss, if their expressions were anything to go by.

~~~

He didn’t have a chance to visit the bakery for the next two weeks, too busy running around dealing with mess after mess. One day, a prison riot. The next, bomb threats at the senate. Everyone in the guard was so exhausted and in desperate need of a break. So when Hound mentioned he was taking Grizzer for a walk, Toast decided to tag along so that he could get some fresh air. Well, fresh for Coruscant.

At some point they’d run into Rhys and Thire, on the way back from patrol duty. Neither of them were in a rush to get back to HQ to receive new marching orders, so they ended up tagging along.

Their little group wandered the streets, just walking with no direction in mind. Grizzer had his snout pressed close to the ground, desperate to sniff everything. Toast smiled at the massiff’s antics from behind his bucket, before glancing around and realizing they were just a block away from the bakery.

“Hey, guys. Wanna stop at that bakery? It’s just over there.” Toast asked, pointing his finger at the little awning in front of the shop.

Thire looked at him as if he had two heads. “Why? Do you think we’ll get handouts again? Not that I’m complaining, free is free, but didn’t you get those because it was the end of the day and she was planning on throwing them out? It’s the middle of the day now…”

“Well, she said I could come back whenever. And that I could bring you guys too.” Toast felt his cheeks heat up for some reason, suddenly feeling embarrassed. What if she was just being polite, and he wasn’t really supposed to come back? What if he brought too many of his brothers and she thought he was taking advantage of her generosity?

He was just about to suggest they should move on when Rhys piped up. “Well, what are we waiting for? C’mon.” He was already halfway to the bakery before anyone could respond. Rhys had a major sweet tooth and nothing motivated him more than some sweets. Hound and Grizzer were right on his heels, having missed out on the pastries last time.

Toast caught up to them quickly, with Thire right behind them, though they all froze as soon as they made it up to the doors. There were people inside this, lounging around sipping drinks and chatting. Could they go in? Would people get mad?

All his vode were waiting for him to do something, and his eyes searched frantically around the storefront as if he would find an answer there. And, surprisingly, he did. Sort of. Because hanging right in the window was a sign that read ‘CLONES WELCOME’. You had to have hung it after your interaction, there was no other explanation. Something about that made his heart race.

All of a sudden, you appeared in the window, a friendly grin on your face as you pointed at the sign and waved for them all to come in.

“You didn’t tell us she was pretty, vod,” Thire whispered as they shuffled their way inside. Toast could just feel the shit eating grin from under his brother’s bucket. He just gave a noncommittal grunt as a response, which only made Thire laugh.

The group of them stood awkwardly in the threshold of the store, not really knowing what to do with themselves. A few patrons looked over to see what was going on, and Toast braced for some sort of outrage at clones invading their space, but after a few seconds they all turned back to whatever they were doing before.

Toast stood there dumbly, just staring at you. He hadn’t really been able to take a good look at you the last time, too distracted by how strange the whole situation had been. But now he could see that Thire was right. You are pretty. Very pretty.

If you noticed how tongue-tied he was, you didn’t show it. You just greeted them with another smile and oh Maker that smile. It was the kind of smile that lit up your whole face and Toast wanted to see it every day for the rest of his life.

“Hi! Is this your first time here?” You asked, cocking your head to one side.

“He’s been here before.” Hound answered, shoving Toast to the front of the group.

“Oh, are you the one from a few weeks ago? Toast?”

You remembered his name! He was pretty sure he was about to melt into a puddle right then and there. It took a second to realize that he hadn't answered yet and he quickly sputtered out, “Y-yeah. That’s me.”

“I’m glad you came back! And you brought your brothers,” You turned to address the rest of the clones and offered out a hand, “It’s nice to meet you all, what are your names.”

Hound, always the people person and the one most used to interacting with the public, stepped forward and shook your hand. “I’m Hound. That’s Thire and Jek. It’s nice to meet you ma’am, I’ve heard you’re a great baker, though I wouldn’t know first-hand.”

You cocked an eyebrow at Toast, “You didn’t share?”

“He was out on patrol, I swear!” Toast stammered, holding his hands up in front of him.

“Hmmm, I guess I’ll take your word for it. Though I think he should get to pick out what he wants first. It’s only fair.”

“Really?!” Hound exclaimed. His enthusiasm seemed to rub off on Grizzer, the massiff sitting up on his back legs and wiggling excitedly before letting out a happy bark. “Down boy,” Hound ordered, placing a hand on Grizzer’s hand to calm him down.

‘Awe, he’s just excited,” you giggled as you bent down to give him some pats of your own. “Can he eat treats? I have some by the door that I give to some of the other dogs.” You asked Hound as you straightened back up.

“Yes, he loves treats. Would you mind if I took them to go? I don’t want him spoiling his dinner.”

“Of course! Now pick out what you all want. And you can put a box together to take to your brothers.”

You spent the next twenty minutes helping them pick out pastries, answering questions so they could pick out something for each of their brothers. After they had made their selections, you sat with them at one of the tables and chatted. Well, you mostly asked questions and they all talked over each other in their excitement. Still, you enjoyed the time with them, happy to provide a place for them to relax and unwind. Their jobs seemed incredibly stressful and by reading in between the lines of some of the things they told you, they seemed to be mistreated by a good portion of the senators, made to run menial errands or be the punching bags senators took their frustrations out on. You could especially see it in Toast, in the way he was so scared of offending you, how he would avert his eyes all the time and flinch if someone spoke too loudly. It honestly made you want to burn down the senate building.

Everyone had finished eating when Thire looked down at his wrist and exclaimed, “Oh kriff, it’s been over an hour! Fox is gonna kill us.”

Toast scoffed. “Correction: Fox is going to kill you and Rhys. Hound and I are off right now.”

“Bring him an extra tiramisu to smooth things over.” You said, already wrapping one up and adding it to the rest of their haul.

The group scrambled around, putting their buckets back on and grabbing the various pastry boxes you’d filled for them. Toast paused before turning to you. “Um, we don’t have any credits on us right now, but I can bring some tomorrow. The Guard has a small discretionary fund we can-”

You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

“A-are you sure? That was a lot of food…” Toast didn’t want her to lose money because of him. After all, he was the one that brought his brothers here.

“It’s okay, seriously. I actually started a little program where customers can buy a coffee or a pastry or whatever for a clone. There’s actually a little bucket next to the register that I set up,” you turned and pointed at it so he could see. “It was actually my employee Vella’s idea. She came up with it the day after we first met, and it’s been pretty popular. There are a lot of people out there who are really thankful for what you guys do, you know.”

Toast didn’t know what to say, but he felt like he wanted to cry at such a nice gesture. “That is… really kind of you. Thanks.” It didn’t feel like nearly enough, but they were the only words Toast could form at the moment.

“Of course,” you said, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. “Now go catch up with your brothers, and let the rest of them know they’re always welcome to a free drink or pastry here.”

Toast thanked you once again before heading outside to where his brothers were waiting, trying to convince himself that your hand hadn’t lingered on his arm for a beat too long. No, it was just wishful thinking.

As he and his vode made their way back to the barracks, Rhys threw an arm around his neck and said, “Wow, Toast, your girlfriend is the best!” earning him snickers from the rest of the group.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Toast tried to protest.

“But you want her to be~” Hound teased. And he was right, Toast wanted that more than anything in the galaxy right now. But he knew it was impossible. You were beautiful and kind and funny and perfect and he... was just a clone.

“It’s not like it could ever happen anyway,” Toast sighed.

Thire nudged him with his shoulder. “Psssh, we all saw how her hand lingered on you. She definitely likes you.”

“Definitely,” Rhys echoed.

Toast smiled under his bucket. It might be a pipe dream, but in that moment he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy.

~~~

In the following weeks, you fell into a sort of routine. Toast would stop by your bakery at least once a week, sometimes more depending on his free time. And you cherished every moment you got to spend with him. Sometimes he would bring fellow members of the guard along, and every visit ended with your stomach cramping from how much you’d laughed at their various antics. You were confused how such a chaotic bunch of individuals were able to come together as an effective police force… that is until you met Commander Fox. His talent for wrangling them deserved a medal in your opinion.

As much as you enjoyed his brothers, you really looked forward to the times where you and Toast were alone together. He’d always come to you with some wild story of an eccentric prisoner or a crazy heist perpetrated in the lower levels. Honestly you hadn’t expected him to be such a gossip, but you were hardly complaining.

In return for his stories you started teaching him how to bake. It started off with him just watching you work as he talked, sometimes asking questions about what you were doing or peaking over your shoulder to get a closer look. Eventually he became an assistant of sorts, spending his time grabbing ingredients for you and washing the dishes once you were done with them.

Today was the day you were going to convince him to bake a loaf of bread with you. You were going to start him off with a simple loaf of white bread, one that didn’t require much kneading and didn’t have a long proving time. You had already pulled out all the ingredients, bowls, and utensils and were waiting patiently for him to arrive.

By the time you heard the bell ring and saw him coming through the door, you were tapping your foot in anticipation. He wasn’t late - in fact he was right on time as always - but you were just itching to see him.

“Toast! You’re here!” Ugh, that was the best greeting you could come up with? you cringed internally. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind your banal greeting, a smile on his lips as he pulled his bucket over his head and placed it on a nearby shelf. You found yourself longing for a reality where he greeted you with a peck on the lips along with that sweet smile. Maker, you had it bad for him.

His eyes flashed over to the ingredients on the counter. “What are you making today?”

“I’m not making anything today. But we are. I think it's time for you to try your hand at baking. And in honor of your love of toast, we’re starting off with bread.”

He rolled his eyes at that, but the corner of his mouth still quirked up, showing off one of his dimples. “Isn’t bread kind of hard to make though? Maybe we should start out with something simpler…”

“Where’s your courage, soldier?” you teased, poking a finger at his chest. He huffed and you laughed. “Now c’mon, wash your hands and get your apron on.”

He ended up taking the top half of his armor off, in only his blacks from the waist up, his sleeve rolled up to his elbows. You were half thankful and half disappointed the apron covered the way his form fitting shirt stretched across his chest. At least you wouldn’t be distracted, but boy oh boy did you want a closer look.

The two of you chatted about your days as you started working on each of your loaves. With so few ingredients the process went quick, and soon enough you were kneading the dough.

“Now this is called the slap and fold technique. First get your dough together in a ball like this… and then you slap it down!” You demonstrated by taking your lump of wet dough and slapping it down on the table. “Then you just fold it in half and repeat. We need to do it for about five minutes.”

“I think you mean we knead to do it for five minutes,” Toast said with a cheeky grin.

“Blegh. Terrible.” You flicked a bit of flour at him as punishment. “I think you knead to be locked up for that pun.” Toast just laughed and continued working, the smile on his face never dropping.

Once you were ready, you shaped both of the loaves and put them in the oven. When you turned back to him you couldn’t help but giggle. He was absolutely covered in flour.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” He asked, face suddenly becoming serious.

You stepped close to him and brushed his face clean with your thumb. “On your face, in your hair, on your shirt. I think you managed to get flour everywhere except the apron.”

“Well you were the one throwing it at me!” came his retort as he used his hands to shake his hair out, turning it from grey back to its lovely dark color.

“Touché. Now let me help you get cleaned up. I think you got some on your back. Somehow.” You grabbed a washcloth and wet it under the sink and started using it to wipe the flour off his clothes.

“It’s one of my many skills from cadet training.” He told you, eyes twinkling, as you dabbed at a spot you missed on his face. You could feel his lips moving as he spoke. Stop thinking about how soft they probably are, you chided yourself.

“You’re just lucky you’re so charming.”

That made him blush and avert his eyes, which would have been cute if you weren’t worried you’d gone a bit too far. You didn’t want to embarrass him or anything. You had thought the two of you were flirting, but maybe you read the situation wrong. You were notoriously bad in the romance department, something Vella had told you after the third time you had missed a customer trying to flirt with you.

Toast cleared his throat before turning back to you. He noticed you’d stepped back away from him and sighed internally. That would have been the perfect time to kiss you or ask you out or something. Anything other than dancing around each other like you two were doing now. Despite the fact that his brothers believed you two were already together - no matter how much he protested - he still wasn’t sure if you felt the same as he did. He had his suspicions, but what if he was wrong? You were his only friend outside of his brothers and he didn’t want to do anything to mess that up or make it awkward.

He thanked the Maker you didn’t tease him, just turning and starting to wash the dishes. He grabbed a bowl and joined you at the big industrial sink, dunking his hands in the warm sudsy mixture and used the sponge to start scrubbing at the stubborn bits of dough that refused to come off. The two of you worked in silence, though not an uncomfortable one, Toast was glad to find. Just as he was finishing drying the last bowl, he remembered something.

“Oh, uh, I almost forgot. Do you know Senator Amidala?”

“Not personally, but I’ve heard of her.”

“Well, she is throwing a banquet or something in a few days and the bakery that was supposed to handle the desserts fell through at the last minute. Thorn suggested you as a replacement and asked me to ask you if it was possible.”

“Hmm. It depends on how long I’d have, and what kind of desserts she wants. Plus how many guests she’s having. I’m not saying no, but I’m not sure how realistic it is. It’s just me, Vella, and two others on staff.” You had started pacing, already running the logistics through your head.

“What if me and the rest of the guard helped you?”

You paused your pacing to look at him. “That could work… but would you all even be able to take off work?”

“Well, it’s been pretty slow this week and we’re spending most of our time getting ready for the party…” You responded with a noncommittal hum so he pressed on. “How about I call Senator Amidala and Commander Fox on the coms and we can get everything worked out?”

“Yeah, sure. That’d be great.”

For the next twenty minutes you hashed out the details with Senator Amidala - Padmé, she insisted you call her - and Commander Fox. Eventually you settled on an order of one large, four-tiered cake and a hundred little fruit tarts. Fox had been hesitant to lend out his troopers until Padmé had offered to replace the old coffee machine in the guard’s office. The party was in three days, so it would be a tight deadline, but you were sure you could do it. Especially with the guard’s help. There was also the motivating factor of the hefty payment Padmé was offering. It would be enough for you to buy an army of cleaning robots!

As soon as you hung up you were already placing an order of the ingredients and messaging your employees to tell them about the job. You were so focused on your task that you jumped with the oven’s timer dinged. Toast stifled a chuckle behind his hand and you shot him a look as you pulled both loaves of bread out of the oven. Both loaves were a perfect golden brown and looked absolutely delicious.

Toast hovered over your shoulder as you placed the bread on the cooling rack, and you had to slap his hand away a few times as you waited for them to cool. Once you could hold them safely in your hands, you handed Toast his loaf and took yours in your hands. “C’mon, let’s take a picture together with our bread.” You tucked yourself into his side and held your loaf up as he snapped the picture.

Once you were satisfied with the picture you relented to his puppy-dog eyes and cut into the bread. You both slathered a piece in butter and tapped them together as if they were wine glasses before taking a bite.

“Mmmmmhhh,” you both groaned in unison at the first bite of warm bread. There was nothing better.

“This is so good.” You mumbled in between bites.

“So much better than anything in the caf.” Toast agreed, his eyes half-closed in bliss. Before you missed it, you snapped a picture. Toast with his toast. It was perfect.

~~~

You stared at the sight of the twenty clone troopers in front of you, decked out in aprons and hair nets, standing at parade rest in a line as Commander Fox, also in an apron, paced back and forth, hands behind his back, as he gave them their orders.

“Now I want you all on your best behavior. It may seem like you’re on a break, but I want you to treat this as if you’re still on the clock,” He stopped pacing and turned to his men, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir!” They all responded with a salute.

You took that moment to snap a picture of them all, Fox’s head snapping towards you at the click of the camera. “I want to remember this,” you told him, fighting back a smile.

You turned to Padmé, who had insisted on coming to help out herself, bringing along her two droids and a Jedi to offer some extra hands. She came complete with a chic outfit for the occasion and you envied how good she looked at six in the morning. You showed her the picture and she asked, “Can you send that to me?” Fox huffed loudly and the two of you broke out into a fit of giggles.

Once you got a hold of yourself you started listing out tasks that needed to be done to Fox. “We’ll need people to clean and cut the fruit for the tarts. Another group can help with mixing and cutting the crust. For the cake, we’ll also need one group handling the batter, and another the frosting and decorations. And we can rotate who is on dish duty.”

Fox immediately started delegating out tasks to his troops and you assigned a member of your staff to help each group. Everyone quickly scrambled to start working on their tasks, the troopers clearly very excited to help.

Throughout the day you flitted from group to group, demonstrating how to do things when needed. Your employees were handling everything so well and you made a reminder to yourself to give them a nice bonus after this. You stepped away from where Vella was showing the boys how to make flowers out of frosting and found Toast lecturing his brothers about the right way to measure flour.

“You can’t just scoop it out straight from the bag, you’ll use too much that way. You have to sift it in like this,” He started demonstrating the proper technique for them, and you noticed he had somehow managed to get flour all over himself again.

“Good job, Toast,” You said as you passed him, brushing the flour out of his hair as you went. “Keep up the great work, boys!” You gave them a thumbs up and moved onto the next group, dodging the R2 unit as it made a beeline to the fridge, a tray of freshly cut fruit balanced on its head.

The next two days passed by smoother than you could have hoped. There were only a few minor incidents. Hound tripping over R2 and spilling some batter, Thorn having to scold Jek and Rhys for eating half of their frosting. Nothing you couldn't handle. Commander Fox had everyone working like a well oiled machine, making sure everything stayed on time. Throughout both days, Padmé’s protocol droid busied himself with taking pictures of the event, and Padmé promised to send them all to you after the party.

It got down to the wire, but you managed to put the last slice of jogan fruit on the hundredth tart with forty-five minutes to spare. Your employees handled loading everything up into the speeder to take them to the venue. You watched them out of the corner of your eye to make sure things went smoothly. Padmé came up to you and thanked you profusely for rushing such a huge order and promised to promote your business to all her friends before she and the rest of her entourage hopped into the speeder with your employees and took off for the party.

You turned back to the clone troopers, who had already finished washing up most of the kitchen. “Don’t worry about the rest, guys, I’ve got it. You should probably start heading back and start getting ready.”

“Trying to kick us out so soon?” Fox mused.

You laughed. “Actually, before you go, I have a little surprise for you all. As a way to say thank you and as a pick me up before the party. I know those things can be tiring.” You went and retrieved the gift you had stayed up all last night working on, keeping it behind your back until you were right in front of them.

You held out a plate of cookies shaped like their helmets, each one customized to look like the helmet of each of the troopers there. You had recruited C3-PO to take reference pictures of all of their helmets while they were working, and the droid had really pulled through for you, even managing to get detail shots for you.

“Woah, are these our helmets?” Stone asked as you handed him his cookie.

“Look, it’s me.” Thorn said to Fox as he waggled his cookie in front of his brother’s face. Fox rolled his eyes but even he couldn’t fight his smile away.

You beamed as each of the troopers examined their cookies and thanked you for them. They all groaned as you forced them to get together for one last picture and the shutter had barely flashed before they were scarfing down the cookies.

Once they were done, Fox and Thorn started hoarding the group through the door. Before Toast could follow his brothers, Fox turned to him, “You stay here and help out with the rest of the clean up.”

Toast blinked for a moment before he responded with a “Yes, sir.”

He waited until he was sure the last of his vode were out the door before he turned to you. He planned on saying something funny or romantic, but all his words failed him as you launched yourself at him and pulled him into a big hug. “Thanks for all your help. I couldn’t have done this without you.” You told him, your voice muffled from your spot pressed against his chest. He returned the hug and rested his cheek against the top of your head.

You couldn’t be sure if it was him who tilted his head down or you who tilted your head up, but you soon found yourselves nose to nose. Maybe sleep deprivation lowered your inhibitions, because you soon found yourself raising up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his. His arms tightened around you as he returned the kiss, letting out a groan as you both melted into each other. It started off sweet and gentle, but quickly developed into something more heated as you swept your tongue across the seam of his lips. He let out another tortured whine as he opened his mouth up to you, pulling you flush against him with one hand falling down to grab your ass while the other hitched your leg over his hip.

Eventually you needed to come up for air and reluctantly parted from him, a blush rising to your cheeks as the string of saliva that connected you broke and dribbled down your chin. He wiped it away with his thumb before bringing his forehead to rest against yours. The two of you stayed like that for a while, gazing into each other's eyes as you caught your breath.

You brought up one of your hands to brush a bit of flour out of his eyebrow. “You managed to get flour on you somehow. I don’t think we even used flour today.”

He grinned at you. “It’s one of my many charms.”

You giggled and pulled him back in for another kiss. Your lips had just met when you heard a camera shutter go off and you both whipped your heads around to the source of the noise.

Vella stood in the doorway to the kitchen, camera raised and a shit-eating grin on her face. “Haha, I knew it! Thire owes me ten credits!”

Both of you blinked at each other for a moment before joining in with her laughter.

#toast clone #clone trooper toast #toast x reader #toast clone x reader #clone wars fanfic #star wars fanfic #reader insert #won't fade into the background #fun fact: toasts ct number is the year sliced bread was invented

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honeypirate · 3 years

Text

Kunikida Doppo x Fem!Reader

5495 words. I went hard for this guys.

I took Ango’s ability for the reader because I like it and so this is now an AU where the reader has the Discourse on Decadence ability and takes memories from objects touched.

I know they don’t all live together but they do in this fic haha at least Kunikida, Dazai, and you are roommates although you’re hardly ever there together. Half of the time Dazai doesn't even sleep there. You’re the only one that really frequents, if you didn't all share rent you would assume you lived there alone save for late night run ins in the kitchen and bathroom.

Warning: a couple swears.

Being in love with a man who was meticulous for following perfect schedules and plans was fine, you loved the structure and appreciated the consistency, but what really hurt, what really felt like your heart was ripped from your body with Akutagawa’s gift, was the fact that he had 58 conditions which he required for a spouse, and you only had 53 of them. You knew you failed his test, failed the expectations he had for a partner, and that someone as meticulous as him would never change his ways for someone who wasn’t above and beyond perfect when it came to those 58 ideals, but damn, you came so close, and that stung like a bitch.

You had asked him one day what they were, out of curiosity when it naturally came up from Dazai teasing him about it, he showed you it with pleasure, and you noted mentally the boxes you filled, your heart cracking into more pieces with every box you didnt fill. 5, 5 things about you that are failures. You couldn't help but hate the number.

You appeared at the door at 8am, right on the dot, the moment you were scheduled to be there and not a minute sooner or later. He really did like that about you, the fact that he never had to doubt you, he trusted that you always were where he scheduled you, you were the only one on the team that followed his orders to the T. “let’s go y/n we have to investigate a murder and your gift will really help” you nod with a smile “ready when you are”

“Why did you want to join the detective agency?” he asks, he wasn't a huge part of your entrance exam and missed the questioning part Dazai did. You sigh as you think, remembering the day you joined 7 months ago, clasping your hands behind your back as you walk, “at first it was because I wanted to rebel, my parents wanted me to hide my gift and act like their perfect child, I dropped out of college and decided to train my gift, ultimately leading me to you guys. After I learned about how other gifteds are using their powers to help people I realized that I was using my gift poorly. I felt an overwhelming need to protect others, to protect my city, if i have this gift and shirk the responsibility it comes with, then it is just as much my fault if innocents die when I could have been the one to help them”

He’s quiet for a while before he speaks again “that is admirable” is all he says before you get to your destination. If he was being honest, your answer was inspiring and he knows he would be writing it down in his notes later.

You do your investigating, using the memories from the objects on the scene to find the culprit easily, finishing the job quicker than he had planned leaving you with approximately 14 minutes to spare in the schedule. As he finishes writing down some notes you appear beside him “we have like 12-13 minutes left in your schedule so i got us some roasted bonito. I didn’t see you eat like you normally do so i figured..” you shrug and hand him the food you bought him. He takes it from your gloved hand silently, his gaze piercing and prudent, but his heart was racing, you were so kind and always looked out for him. He appreciated your care but didn’t know how to react to it. “Efficient because we can eat it on our way back. Finishing early is always nice, I love the free moments where my mind is able to relax and process things.” You say and He watches you take a bite and hum softly as you appreciate the flavor. He makes a mental note to schedule in an extra 2-3 minutes on missions he goes on with you just so he can give you a second to breathe if you need it.

You get back to the office with a few extra minutes to spare, you head to your desk to fill out paperwork and he watches you go, wondering why his heart seems to beat harder now that you left him. “Oooh does someone have a crush” Dazai says quietly as he teases Kunikida “I don’t know what you’re talking about. She is my coworker and besides,” “she lacks 5 of your spousal requirements yeah yeah. Maybe you're just a little too uptight with those 5, has anyone ever even gotten that close before?” Dazai looks at him with a smirk and Kunikida just walks off mumbling something about paperwork.

The rest of the day went by as all of the rest seemed to, slow and filled with paperwork and sometimes smaller missions, you didn't mind though, in the office you had a straight line to watch Kunikida, and on missions you were helping people. You didn’t mind slow days, it meant no one was dying.

You decided to break your routine, deciding to treat yourself to something special since your heart has been hurting for so long. You had a plan of getting something for dinner, doing a little indulgent spending, and then going home to drink a glass of wine and have a facemask and a movie night. You told Naomi of your plan since you two were close like sisters, not in her definition of a sibling though.

You had dinner at your favorite restaurant, eating in the booth with the window that showed the sunset, then went to your favorite stores, buying a new silk red pajama set with shorts that had white lace around the leg openings. You bought a new red pencil skirt for work and a necklace that would match it.

When you get home it’s so quiet you assume no one is there, you put your things away and shower before changing into your new pajamas, you had to admit, you looked delectable in them. You got a glass of wine and then took the bottle with you to your room to watch a movie. After about two glasses and half of the movie you felt a little tired so you decided to go to bed, you brought your glass and the wine back to the kitchen, wanting to put the bottle away in its cupboard and wash your cup. Although you only had two glasses you could feel your skin buzzing from the alcohol.

As you go to put the bottle away you get startled when a voice speaks in the dark “What are you doing up so late?” His deep voice makes you jump and drop the glass and the bottle onto the floor around your bare feet, wine and glass going everywhere. “Hang on” he says and walks over, gently and easily lifting you up to sit on the countertop behind you as he grabbed towels and a broom to clean up the mess “i’m sorry Kunikida, you scared me but I should have been more careful” you whisper, why does the darkness of night always make you feel like you should whisper? “I’m sorry for frightening you, you have nothing to apologize for” he finishes cleaning up the mess, throwing out the glass and paper towels before turning back to you. “You never answered my question” he says and you smile sweetly “just putting back the wine” you say innocently and a smile threatens to tug on his lips.

“Oh you got wine on you” he says and before he realizes his actions he’s kneeled down on one knee, holding your foot gently and cleaning away the wine that has sprayed up your leg. “Ouch” you say and pull your foot away “what hurts?” he asks and then turns your foot gently “you have a piece of glass in your foot” he says and then gently pulls it free “wait here I am going to go get the first aid kit” before you can object he’s gone, down the hall to the bathroom.

When he comes back you’re swinging your feet softly and humming along to a song stuck in your head, he pauses for a moment at the doorway, noting how long and beautiful your legs looked in your new pajamas, you made his mouth dry

He came back, kneeling down once again to hold your foot, cleaning it with some peroxide before applying some neosporin and a bandaid, his cheeks flushed as he uses all of his willpower not to run his hands up your legs and grip your thighs, pushing your legs apart as he stands between them, kissing your soft- he cuts those thoughts short, you didn't meet the requirements, you weren’t the one.

When he stood you followed what the alcohol in your veins was telling you, leaning into him you lay your head against the tall man's chest as you hugged him. “Thank you for always protecting me Kunikida” his hands find their way to your back, he can smell your shampoo and the natural scent of your skin, it's intoxicating to him.

He had two choices, push you as far away as he could and reprimand you even though he is just as at fault, or embrace you and throw his list out the window. Maybe Dazai was right and he was too stuck up with the list, he was sure about one thing, that you were the only one who almost filled the entire list, the other five being self indulgent he could cross them out and then you would be the one. He was so confused, his life was his book, he was his book, his ideals were everything. Good thing ideals can change and evolve with time.

You pull back and push him away softly before hopping down from the counter, your hands on his shoulders as you look up at him. He smiles down at you, a lovely smile that looked so genuine, filled with unspeakable loneliness in his eyes. You reach up and untie the crimson ribbon around his neck and stand on your tiptoes, kissing his cheek/chin and whispering a goodnight before walking off back to your bedroom. If he reprimanded you tomorrow you would blame the drinks and claim to be a lightweight.

The next morning you wear your new crimson red pencil skirt, a white blouse tucked in, and the ribbon you took from Kunikida, around your neck twice and tied in bow, like the perfect choker that puts the necklace you bought the day before to shame. You slip on your black heels and exit your room, heading down to the kitchen to have a coffee and some breakfast, you’re usually up and out the door before everyone else so that you can take the long way to work, through the park to see the spring blooming.

“You’re up early” his voice shocks you again, but this time you keep a hold on your coffee cup “I could say the same to you, I’m always up at this time. Coffee?” he nods with a small smile and you turn around to poor him some from the pot you made, he never knew who made coffee, he knew that it was made when he got up but assumed you just put it on a timer, not that you were already up at this hour since you came into work right on time when you were scheduled. He wonders what you do with your mornings.

You hand him a cup and he takes it with a smile “thank you y/n” he says and you nod “no problem” you go back to making your breakfast, pretending like last night’s incident isn’t fresh on your mind, until your toe kicks a piece of glass that was stuck under the lower cabinet. You crouch down, picking up the piece as Kinikida comes around “you’re not one to miss something Kunikida” you hold it up with a sly smile “If i didn’t know better, I’d say I really flustered you last night” (if i didn't know about your list is more like it) his heart was racing, you did fluster him, “nonsense” he says, taking the glass and disposing of it, pretending to not notice the necklace you had made from his ribbon around your neck, or the way that you looked practically kneeling in front of him.

You laugh as you stand, going back about your business, wrapping your breakfast up and throwing your bag over your shoulder before grabbing your travel coffee mug and sending him another, albeit fake this time, smile, “nonsense, I know I know, I don't even make the list. 58. I’ll see you at the office, Kunikida.” You bow slightly before leaving him in the kitchen, just as flustered as you had him last night, if you had pushed just a little more, he would have confessed, confessed that he has practically rewritten his list around you. Part of him wonders where you’re off to, you’re not scheduled for another hour and a half and he knows for a fact the walk takes ten minutes. He sighs, finishing his coffee, if he wanted to know he would just ask you later.

The day went by smoothly, you did your missions, did your paperwork, and went home. Sadly though, because of a fight during a mission, you lost the ribbon you took from Kunikida and in turn got a ring of budding bruises and burns because of the villain using it to try and strangle you. What was worse was that you weren’t able to even see Kunikida for the rest of the day.

You walked up the steps of the home slowly, making sure you didn’t wake anyone, if they were even here, it’s past 11 now, your last fight took a while and so did the paperwork. If you shower quickly you can give yourself at least 20 minutes of time to relax and process before going to sleep, already hating your morning alarm.

You head to your room, take off your clothing and hang them up, placing the hanger by the door so that you can drop it by the dry cleaners in the morning. Once inside the bathroom you start the shower to warm up, looking at yourself in the mirror you gently touch your neck, hissing at the pain and quickly retreating your fingers. Sighing, you run your fingers through your hair, blood dried and caked in a few places making your fingers get stuck on tangles, you grab your comb and take it into the shower with you, combing through gently after it’s been washed and conditioned.

You sigh again, grabbing the wine bottle, before you even reach for a glass you think better of it, uncorking it and drinking straight from the bottle. The sound of the bottom of the bottle scraping as you placed it down against the marble sounded loud in the quiet, dark room, but compared to the sound of the feet stomping down the stairs it was silent.

You take another drink then gasp as the light turns on in the kitchen, causing you to yet again drop what you were holding on to the floor, the bottle shattering around your feet and your head hanging, this isn't what you needed, something else to keep you from sleep. Before you can even think of bending down to clean up the mess, you are lifted to the counter again, the same as the previous night, but what made it different was the gentle fingers, turning your face up to look at him.

“We have to stop meeting like this” you say, trying to diffuse the tension, but by the way his lips turned down into a frown, made you break, you couldn’t get reprimanded right now, not by him, not by the one person you wish would comfort you. You tear your head from his grasp, looking back down at your lap as the tears gather in your eyes and your throat tightens in what feels like agony.

“Stay here” he says as he disappears, once he’s gone your face scrunches up, failing to hold back tears anymore you cover your face with your hands, muffling your cries and hiding your face even though the hot tears just slid down your palms and off your chin, hitting your thighs silently.

When he gets back he pauses, seeing you look so vulnerable, at your end, he’s never seen you like this and it absolutely kills him. he knows his damn list, knows what he has said before, but somehow, regardless of his words or actions, his heart has chosen for itself. He crosses the room in seconds, sets the first aid kit down beside you, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest.

your hands find their way around his back, grabbing fistfulls of the shirt he was wearing, your face buried in his chest as your tears soaked through the fabric. He held you tight, his hand smoothing down your hair as your sobs wracked through you. When you were done crying he held you longer, waiting for when you were ready, when you would pull away.

All he can think about as he holds you was how pissed off he was when Dazai told him you were attacked, how pissed off he was at the villian you fought. But so proud of you for your win, for your fighting skills, he was told you were almost killed, almost strangled to death with your necklace, the necklace that was made from his ribbon. It made him angry because he wasn't there to keep that from happening, he knew you were strong but he felt this pit in his stomach, that he was so close to losing you and you didn't even know that he cared so much for you. The way Dazai looked at him made him angrier, all he could do was change the subject and finish paperwork. He was worried about you. When he heard you in the shower he was grateful you were home, he resisted going to you when he heard you back in your room, told himself to go to sleep when he heard your footsteps go back down the steps. But when he didn’t hear you come back in a few minutes he couldn’t control himself, running down the steps as quick as he could, he couldn't help it, he needed to make sure you were okay.

When you pulled back from him you felt embarrassed, “Sorry Kuni-” he tilts your head up to look at him “you have nothing to be sorry about” he whispers, brushing your tears away and then leans down to kiss your forehead. You gasp in shock as he acts like this was a normal thing between you two, looking at him with wide, bloodshot eyes as he grabs the first aid kit. He takes out the Neosporin and then puts some on his fingers before gently rubbing some on your neck, you hiss and pull away from the pain “I’m sorry” he says and you shake your head before taking his other hand, holding it as you tilt your face away to expose your neck better in the light.

He frowns as he sees the extent of damage your neck took. “I’m sorry for taking your ribbon. Karma, i guess” you whisper through gritted teeth as he gently applies the cream to your neck, the broken bottle and spilled wine forgotten about for the time being. “Hush” he says and squeezes your hand, he moves to the other side of your neck and you roll your head to keep the correct side of the wound in the light. His touch feels nice on your neck, his gentle cool fingers against your angry red, wounded neck, you sigh softly, a sweet sound to his ears. He squeezes your hand again as he finishes his work and you drop it, turning your face to look at him.

“You can have any ribbon of mine you want” he says calmly as he grabs a hand towel from the counter and crouches down, wiping up the wine carefully. You look down at him with your eyebrows raised “Kunikida?” He looks up at you from your feet “what?” He responds and you chuckle softly, your stuffy nose changing the sound “why are you being so nice to me?” He looks back down to his cleaning so you don’t see his blushing cheeks, his heart beating wildly, “what do you mean? I’m a nice guy” he says and you laugh “you are. But you’re making me feel special, that’s usually not your M.O. I mean I’m not even that worthy by your standards.” You say and you feel your heart crack at finally saying the truth out loud.

He sighs, the weight in the room heavy as he finishes cleaning up the wine and glass, just throwing away the glass towel, making a mental note to buy a replacement tomorrow. He walks back over to where you are, still sitting on the counter, looking down at your toes and focusing on the cool tile under your palms and the way the heat in your neck throbs.

He places his palms against your knees, gently opening them to stand between them, you gasp as he places his fingers under your chin and tilts your face up to look at him. He looks fiercely serious and your eyes flick down to his lips for a second before meeting his eye again, blushing as he smirks at your actions.

“Y/n” he starts, his voice deep and as serious as he looks, you don’t know if he’s going to reprimand you or not. “Where do you go in the morning before work?” he asks and a chuckle bubbles out your throat “Kunikida, here I thought you were going to kiss me but instead you wanted to ask me about my morning ritual? Come with me in the morning and you can see” he nods, his cheeks pink “okay I will” he says and then picks you up easily into his arms “what are you doing? Oh god please don’t drop me” he chuckles as you cling to him and doesn’t say anything as he carries you upstairs to your bedroom, tucking you in and kissing your forehead, successfully confusing the hell out of you as you watch him leave your room “we’ll talk over breakfast. Get a good rest” he says as he closes your door behind him.

The next morning you’re up a little earlier than usual, excited to have Kunikida accompany you before work. You dress in a dark green pencil skirt with a cream blouse tucked in and black heels. You layer a couple long gold necklaces, making sure to avoid the still red and bruising marks, and put on some matching earrings, you style your hair up in a neat bun, leaving out a few whispies to frame your face. You put on a little makeup to accentuate your features before leaving your bedroom and taking along your clothes to drop off at the cleaners. When you get downstairs Kunikida is already there, pouring you a cup of coffee.

Your stomach flips when you see him, your breath hitching as you watch him pour the coffee into your travel mugs. You feel your face flush as he looks up to you in the doorway “goodmorning Y/n” he says, setting the pot down and walking over to you. He reaches out and gently takes your chin in his hand, tilting your head back to examine your neck. “Let’s put more medicine on this, it will probably take away some of the pain.”

“Should I sit on the counter again?” your voice was low and teasing, your hand coming up to rest on his chest. His heart beat is so loud in his ears he hopes you can’t feel it under your palm on his chest.

Your breath hitches as you gaze up at him, his eyes flicking to your lips as you stand close together in the kitchen. “Yes that might be wise” he says and places his hands on your hips as he leads you around to the island behind him, your butt bumps into the counter and he swiftly lifts you back to the countertop. You chuckle, steadying yourself by holding his shoulders.

“I’m starting to think you like me up here” you tease, smiling at him, the height of the counter making you almost eye to eye.

His cheeks dust a light shade of pink as he pushes up his glasses, “i’m just trying to take care of you since it was my ribbon that did this to you”

He gently grabs your chin again, looking into your eyes for a moment, the tension in the air thick as you smiled sweetly, his tongue wets his bottom lip and your eyes flick down to them, when you look back up at him his eyes are dark and you can tell he wants to kiss you, a soft chuckle escapes your lips and it seems to shake him out of it. He turns your head gently and grabs the neosporin.

“Thank you Kunikida. I’m sure i will heal quicker because of your care.” you whisper as he begins on the other side. “I surely hope so.” he states. Your hands are on your lap as you play with your fingers, waiting patiently for him to finish.

“Are you ready to see what I do in the morning?” you ask when he finishes his work, your eyes finding his again. He nods “yes, I am truly excited to go with you.” You place your hands on his shoulders and slip off the counter, pressing yourself against him you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek “thank you. For the care and the coffee” You use your thumb to softly wipe the lip gloss from his cheek before slipping past him, grabbing your coffee and slipping your bag across your shoulder and grabbing last night's clothes.

You take a sip of your coffee and then smile at him “Ready?” you ask and he nods, your bright smile making his heart race as he picks up his coffee and bag and follows you out of the kitchen.

You walk the opposite direction from the office and he quirks his eyebrow at you but says nothing as he follows, his stomach in nervous excited knots. He takes a sip of his coffee, hoping the hot bean liquid would help him relax.

After you drop off your clothes you take him to the bread shop a few blocks away, getting a bagel for breakfast where he opted for a croissant. You showed him your favorite building, a small home that was ancient and still standing surrounded by the tall glass buildings and businesses. You stopped for a moment to talk to the lovely old lady who lived there, she was always tending her flower garden when you passed in the morning and you became good friends with her.

“Who is this? Your sweetheart?” she asks and you chuckle “This is Kunikida, we work together” you say with a small smile and she looks at you knowingly “Oh honey if i had a coworker who looked at me the way he looked at you,” she doesn't finish the sentence, she just sends you a pointed look causing your cheeks to flush as you chuckle, Kunikida just watches you with a smile, loving how cute you look when you blush.

The next stop was the park, since it is the spring the flowers are in bloom and it all looks pretty, you sit down at your usual bench that overlooks the majority of the area, the sun in the sky warming your shoulders as the shadows of the trees dance across your features, Kunikida sits by you, drinking in your presence as he watches you truly enjoy every moment you are in.

“You said we would talk today. Is now a good time or maybe later during lunch? That is if we don’t get last minute missions” you finish your coffee and place your cup in your bag. He sighs, looking out across the park and he pushes up his glasses “You have perplexed me.” he says you laugh, a little confused. You turn to him and watch him, waiting for him to continue.

“I am my ideal. Ideals that mean everything. I have my protocol and I stick to it no matter what. Everything is planned, work is structured. It is how I thrive. I have these ideals and requirements. But then you joined the group and slowly you have captured my heart.” he turns his head to look into your eyes now, they are full of raw emotion that leaves you speechless.

“Kuni-” he takes your hand and it silences you “My list” he says and reaches up to wrap your whispies around his finger “all it has on it now is you”

Your heart stops and your breath catches as he confesses his feelings, this man who is all ideals and protocol, who you have been in love with since you started working with, who you never thought you would have a chance with, is holding your hand and telling you that his only requirement for a partner, is that it is you.

“What about your list of 58? This is very unlike you Kunikida” you whisper, your heart going positively wild at his confession, you never thought he would be the one to change part of his ideal. It was completely out of character. “You are hundreds, thousands of things that make my life sweeter. Who needs 58 when you give me all” your breath catches and he leans down, pressing his forehead into yours.

“Please tell me you feel this too” you chuckle, your hand coming to rest on his cheek “I feel this too. Kunikida I-” he captures your lips with his, a kiss that has been built up with tension over the past few days, you sigh and reach up, your hand ghosting over his cheek and neck before landing on his pony, wrapping the strands around your fingers. His free hand is cupping your cheek gently, his fingers brushing against your skin as his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you sigh as you touch your tongue to his, the feeling of electricity coursing through your veins.

Your phone beeps and you groan, pulling back from him as you look down at it, reading the message that has come through, his hand was still playing with your hair.“What is it?” you sigh and look up at him, forgetting about how close your faces were until your noses brushed “Dazai says to come in as soon as possible so we should go now-” he pecks your lips softly and stands, pulling you up with him

“Always more work to do” he says and you smile, he was right as per usual. He holds out his hand and you take it with a smile, lacing your fingers together as you continue your walk. “Are we going to tell the others?” You ask, really unsure yourself about what was best “yes. There will be paperwork to do but I’ve had it on my desk for a while now” you chuckle “you have?!” He nods “ Dazai gave them to me. He knew how I felt before I did” you laugh “Dazai always knows. He caught me looking at you once and I had to promise him if you didn’t feel the same that I had to help him with his suicide mission, just so he wouldn’t tell you my feelings first” you both make mental notes to talk to Dazai. You stop outside the doors and pull him down into another soft kiss, when you pull back you smile up at him and he chuckles “be safe today” he says as he looks over your neck again and you nod “yes sir” you say and chuckle at the emotion that flashes in his eyes you lean forward “i wish we had to time to explore that. Too bad we have to work” you kiss his neck and then pull back, opening the door and walking into the building chuckling. Daizai watching with a knowing smirk from the window above.

#bungou stray dogs kunikida #kunikida doppo #kunikida fluff #kunikida imagines #kunikida x reader #kunikida x you #kunikida x y/n #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo x reader #kunikida doppo x you

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snelbz · 4 years

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The Ranch {2}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: This story has been in the works for so long and we have poured hours and hours into it. There have been weekends where we did nothing but write (and drink wine) all day long, because this story just flowed out of us (and, of course, the wine flowed in). We say it all the time, but writing together is our favorite thing to do. This is our first full length fic together and I can’t believe we’re finally sharing it with y’all. As always, let us know what you think and a reminder that Tara and I will be going back and forth posting chapters, so look for chapter 3 on her blog soon!

The Ranch Masterlist

Cassian had been up for hours, but felt as if he’d blinked and it was nine in the morning. He’d woken up at four and while he was making coffee, he looked out the window and watched a young calf grazing in the field. He took a sip of his coffee, and headed towards the fridge to start cooking breakfast and-.

His coffee was forgotten on the counter and his boots and shirt were on in seconds.

If there were cattle up this far onto the property, it could only mean two things. The fence was down somewhere (or worse - cut again) and it had been all night.

He saddled Lyria and rode for what felt like miles before he found the section of fencing that had been, once again, cut clean through.

He cursed as he dismounted, carefully investigating the area. The box powering the fence had been shut down and all three of the conductive wires shredded through. Cassian sighed as he walked through the opening and looked down into the field where the cattle grazed.

There were six cows of varying sizes below.

“Damn it,” he breathed and headed back toward his cabin.

First things first, he had to fix the fence. It would do him no good to catch the missing herd, just for them to get loose again. Then he’d bring Beau down with him to herd them back into their pasture.

After repairing the fence and locating the herd, he found himself by the main house. And once again, that little red sports car was parked in front of her.

With a sigh, Cassian opened the back door and went inside. She was, once again, in the kitchen, but this time she was cleaning. The lemony scent of all-purpose cleaner hit Cassian as he shut the door behind him, more loudly than he should have.

She peeked over her shoulder, observing him. “Nice to see you fully dressed yourself before gracing me today.”

Cassian chuckled. “Disappointed?”

She just shook her head, going back to cleaning the countertops. “Not at all.”

“Pity,” Cassian mumbled, pulling out a chair from the kitchen table and taking a seat, watching her every move. “Shirt can come off, again, just say the word.”

“When you speak,” Nesta began, opening one of the top drawers and emptying its unnecessary contents into the garbage, “do you find yourself as annoying as I do?”

Cassian just grinned. “Look, I’ll leave you alone in a minute. Just thought you’d like to be updated on what’s been happening this morning. Also, do you drive from here to the house you’re staying in every time? Because...it’s really not that far. It’s perfectly walkable. Or, are you just afraid of getting your shoes dirty?”

Nesta stopped what she was doing and turned to face him, leaning back against the counter. “First of all, you’re an asshole, but I’m sure that’s not news to you. Secondly, did something happen this morning?”

Cassian watched her for a moment as he tied his hair back. “Some fencing had been cut along the far east pasture line.”

Nesta blinked. “Okay…”

“You don’t know what that means, do you?” he asked, humored. “You lived here for eighteen years before you left, did you not?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “I assume you’re going to tell me, considering you like to hear yourself talk so much.”

“It means, sweetheart, that someone purposefully came onto our land and cut our electric fence, in hopes something would happen to those animals.”

Nesta asked, “You fixed it though?”

“Yes, but I-.”

“Great. Here’s the thing, Cassian,” she turned and continued cleaning. “As you’ve so kindly pointed out, I don’t know the first thing about ranch work. I also don’t care to. So as long as you keep the ranch running smoothly, I don’t need to know everything that goes on.”

Cassian was staring, but unlike yesterday, it wasn’t at the way her ass filled out the jean shorts she wore. It was in shock. “You don’t want to know what’s going on with the ranch?”

“Secondly,” she continued, not acknowledging he’d even spoken, “in regards to our land, I decided to take a look at the property boundaries. I’d like to add another building.”

“Another building? Nesta, there’s barely enough land for the cattle as it is.”

Ignoring him again, she pressed on. “While I was looking for them, the deeds for all three houses fell into my lap. You said you knew my father for a long time, right, Cassian? So surely you’d know how bad his procrastination was.”

His heart dropped into his stomach.

No, there was no way she was about to say what he thought she was.

“Why don’t you check that envelope on the table?”

Cassian reached for it with trembling fingers. When he opened it, he saw that it was the deed to his house, yes, but the bottom line, the line where the original owner’s name belonged…

It was blank.

“Looks like he never got around to going and getting it notarized,” Nesta said, pulling another drawer open. She found silverware inside, her mother’s priceless silver set from their wedding. It was tarnished and bent. She pulled it out and set it to the side, to clean it later on.

Cassian slowly folded up the letter and tossed it onto the table. “So, what? You’re going to kick me out of my house?”

“It’s my house,” Nesta clarified.

Cassian pushed back his chair with such force that Nesta almost flinched. “Let me see his will.”

Nesta turned to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he’d opened the envelope. “What?”

“I want to know exactly what he left to you. Shit, I’ll call his fucking lawyer. I’ve lived in that house for eight years, Nesta, taking care of this land like it's my land. You get rid of me, this whole operation goes to shit.” He was fuming, barely able to think clearly. His hands were shaking as he shoved them into his pockets.

She, however, was the epitome of calm. “I didn’t say I was getting rid of you.”

Cassian’s jaw clenched.

“I expect you, if you want, of course, to continue working here. Elain says you’re great at what you do and I trust her judgement. But, I do expect you to respect me as your boss, just like you did my father. You will do as I say, and no more meaningless flirtations.”

Cassian scoffed, loudly and humorlessly. “You think a little too highly of yourself, Sweetheart.”

“I will sign the log cabin to you and allow you to continue your and my father’s agreement if you agree to my terms,” she continued, as if manipulating him pleased her. “I want another building on the property, and I want you to build it.”

Cassian blinked, his anger turning back into shock. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She fished around in a box before pulling out a small polishing rag. She went to work on the silverware. “You said you would do anything that needs to be done.”

“I’m a rancher, Nesta. And a handyman, at best,” he gestured around the kitchen. “I fixed your air conditioning, and I can do other things like that, but I can’t build an entire damn house.”

“Stable,” was all Nesta said.

“Excuse you?”

“A stable. I want a stable closer to the house.”

Cassian was stunned. “You...want a new stable?”

“Yes, the barn and stables down by the round pen are falling apart. I don’t think the horses are safe in there.”

“And you care because..?” He didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but everything he’d learn in the past eight years completely contradicted what she was telling him.

“Just because I didn’t care to learn how to ranch doesn’t mean I don’t love my horses.”

He blinked at her and he hesitated, but spoke. “I can...try. But like I said, I’ve never built anything like that before.”

She set the polishing cloth down and the one fork she’d been meticulously polishing during their entire conversation. “That’s fine. I’ve- I’ve never run a B&B before but here we are.”

“Have you been down to the old stables?” He asked, not accusingly, but curious. “Do you even know how many horses we have?”

“We had nine when I left,” she said, looking out the window. “And they were all fairly young. Theoretically, they could all still be alive. How many?”

“Eight. Sold one, lost one, and had one just appear out of nowhere.” He couldn’t read her tone. Couldn’t tell why she was asking.

“Who was sold?”

Cassian tread carefully, watching her. He stood and got a coffee mug from the cabinet, pouring a cup from the steaming pot on the counter. He took a drink and leaned back against the cabinet. “About three years ago, a girl and her parents stayed the night on the way to a rodeo in Cheyenne. She was a barrel racer and her horse was getting too old. She saw Hue out in the pasture and asked if she could ride her. They paid us cash before they left and Hue is a world champion barrel horse now.”

Nesta nodded, remembering exactly what she’d looked like, why Feyre had given her the name. Nesta had never been a fan of Paint horses, but it was no question that Feyre fell in love. “And the one who died?”

Cassian hesitated again and this time Nesta looked up. His hazel eyes were sad. “He was a great horse, Nes.”

Nesta looked away and tried to blink the tears away.

Phoenix.

“What happened?” she asked, nudging the fork with her finger.

“He just started to colic one day, we’re not exactly sure.” He crossed one booted foot in front of the other. “A day or two after the colic started, we had the doc come out and he said he was completely blocked. If we didn’t get him moving and get that block to pass, we were gonna lose him.” Cassian bumped his heel against the toe of his boot. His spurs jangled as he did. “He never got back to his feet. I’m sorry, Nesta.”

She sniffled and nodded, but refused to look up at him. “You should, uh, go do whatever it is you do now. I’ll talk to you in a bit. I’ll have lunch ready at 1:00, if you’re hungry.” She began to head towards the doorway leading to the living room.

He reached for her wrist. “Nesta, it’s-.”

“Leave,” she said, snatching her arm back. It was firm, but it wasn’t unkind, showing Cassian just how broken up over the news she was. Even more so when she added, “Please.”

She kept walking and was out of his sight as soon as she turned the corner into the living room.

He sighed, rubbing his hands down his face.

Today was nothing like he planned.

____________________________

Nesta spent her day working. After Cassian brought his unpleasant news, and she’d asked him to leave her alone, she didn’t see him. He made himself scarce for the remainder of the afternoon, and she no longer cared what he spent it doing, knowing full well he would make himself useful around the ranch.

Elain was right, he was a great rancher.

It was why she was allowing him to keep his house on the land. He was right. If he were to leave, the entire ranch would go to complete shit.

Phoenix lingered in the back of her mind all day, no matter how much she tried not to think about him.

She finished polishing her mother’s fine silverware, pissed the entire time that her father had treated them like meaningless pieces of plastic. After that, she finished cleaning out the kitchen and was busy in the living room when Elain texted her.

Still on for tonight? We were thinking we could go to the old corner bar.

Nesta sighed. She wanted so desperately to say no, but Elain had missed her, and she had missed Elain. Besides, she’d given Nesta an entire house full of free furniture.

I’ll be there. What time?

Ok.

Nesta looked at the time. It was just after six. She could certainly use a shower. She hadn’t taken one since she’d arrived the morning before. Her water wasn’t turned on in her little house, but she was too stubborn to ask Cassian where the main was.

Especially after what had happened that morning.

She was tempted to text Elain and ask if she had invited him to dinner, but didn’t want it to seem like she cared.

Because she didn’t.

Not one bit.

So instead, she bundled everything she would need to get ready into her suitcase and tossed it in her backseat, slamming the door a little harder than she probably needed to.

She mumbled something about ‘not wanting to get her shoes dirty’ as she climbed into the driver seat and started the car, heading up to the main house. She headed into the house and started up the stairs, heading for her old bathroom on the second floor. But she paused and smirked, turning and heading back down the hall, towards the master suite, which took up the bulk of the second floor.

As she walked through the house, she swore she heard the floor creaking upstairs, but knew how much noise this house made while she was growing up. She could only imagine how much it would creak in the middle of the night now.

As she took a quick shower, she pondered the idea of turning the B&B into a haunted mansion type of deal, because there was no way anyone was going to be able to sleep here if the house made as much noise at night as it did during the day. Ultimately, she knew she’d have to get someone out to check the foundation of the house and probably redo the floors at some point.

As she turned the water off and pondered all that she would have to do to fix this place up, she was thankful for her notoriety and success in the world of all things culinary. When she’d gotten the call about her father’s death, she’d been in Paris, talking to young culinary students how to properly chop for the different methods of cutting. His funeral had been planned so quickly that there was no time for her to even request to go. A few weeks later, when she’d received a call from his lawyer, telling her that he’d left her his dream, his baby, there was no question of what she needed to do.

Her three restaurants in Rome, New York, and Paris were all on the market in less than three days. Forty-five minutes later, she sold them to a single buyer for eighteen million dollars.

She’d sold her brand, her craft, everything.

She was thankful, because now she had the funds to do what she needed to save this place.

Stepping out of the shower, Nesta wrapped a towel around her wet body. She ran one through her dripping hair and combed through it. She yawned and checked her phone, finding it wasn’t even seven yet. If Nesta had any hope of staying awake after her long day of cleaning, she’d need to start drinking copious amounts of caffeine now.

She decided coffee didn’t sound half bad and decided to make a pot while she got ready.

Passing by the front door, she locked it, just in case somebody decided he wanted to visit again. She continued into the kitchen and put a pot on to brew.

There was something peaceful about a pot of coffee brewing. Nesta loved the little noises the machine made as it made her a pot of delicious energy filled goodness.

As it did its job, Nesta turned to head back down the hall and up the stairs to the master bathroom. She was excited to meet Elain’s man. She had heard a lot about Azriel throughout the last few years, and Nesta wanted to meet this guy for herself.

The man that stole her sister's sweet, beautiful heart.

She wondered if Elain had asked Feyre and if so, if Feyre would show up.

Nesta wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.

Nesta didn’t care if she didn’t.

Either way, Nesta had to admit that a night out would do her good. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had gone out or done anything for herself, other than work.

As the air conditioner kicked on, she was hit with a sudden chill and regretted only wearing a towel. She’d brought her outfit for the evening and didn’t want to put it on until she was ready to leave, but the clothes she’d worn earlier today were sweaty and gross.

She’d found her mother’s old clothes in one of the closets upstairs earlier and wondered if the floral robe she used to wear was there as well. Tightening her towel, she headed upstairs and was passing by the bathroom when the door opened up.

Nesta screamed and jumped backwards, Cassian stepping back similarly. He almost slipped on the damp tile but kept his footing.

As her breathing returned to normal, Nesta asked, “What in the hell are you doing here? You said you lived in the log cabin!”

“I do, but I got bucked off one of the mares and was covered in mud and shit.” He crossed his arms over his tattooed chest. “Why aren’t you down in your fancy, new house?”

She put her hands on her hips, standing her ground. “My water is off and someone hasn’t told me where the main shutoff is so I can turn it back on.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “Someone hasn’t asked.”

Nesta shook her head. “Get out. I have to get ready.”

Cassian made a show of his eyes grazing over her body, covered in only a towel. She had to force herself to not do the same to him. She was perfectly aware of the small, blue cotton towel that covered only a small portion of his massive frame. She was perfectly aware of how low that towel hung on his hips.

“Can I get dressed first?” He asked, voice quiet as his eyes met hers, once more.

The minute they did, she couldn’t look away. “If you must.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, especially when his tongue peeked out to wet his bottom lip. But instead, he silently closed the door between them, and Nesta released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

She continued down to the study in the hall and to the closet where she’d found her mother’s clothes. It only took her a few seconds of searching before she found the thin, soft, blue and white fabric.

It felt just like she’d remembered.

Nesta dropped her towel and, after shaking it out, put the robe on, thankful that her father had been such an emotional sap and couldn’t get rid of anything of her mother’s.

Nesta’s mother was a beautiful woman, but Elain was shaped most like her. Her chest and hips were not nearly as full as Nesta’s, which made the short, modest robe her mother had worn around the house nearly obscene on Nesta. Nevertheless, she wore it, loving the feel of it on her skin.

She walked back down the stairs with her towel draped over her arm, finding the bathroom door open and the room empty, steam still fogging the mirror, and turned toward the kitchen to get her coffee. She found him already in there and she hesitated, but continued in.

“Nice robe,” he said, peering over his mug.

“Gotta date?” She shot back, eyeing his clean jeans and button down shirt. His feet were bare.

Cassian chuckled. “Not quite. Your sister asked me to dinner with her and Az.”

Nesta froze, just as she was about to start pouring her coffee.

“Judging from your reaction, I assume you’ll be there, too.”

Nesta sighed, continuing to pour her coffee before taking a sip. “You’d assume correctly.”

Cassian smiled - true and genuine. “Let me drive you. Save gas.”

Nesta didn’t reply. “Tell me about Azriel.”

Cassian's brows shot up. “What?”

“Tell me about him. Elain is sure he’s the one, so I want to know everything.”

Cassian slowly sat his mug down and ran a hand through his damp hair. “He’s a great guy. Caring. Loves Elain more than I ever thought he’d love anyone. We’ve known each other since we were kids. I’m surprised you don’t remember him from high school.”

Nesta’s gaze shot to his. “What?”

Cassian's brows rose. “He went to high school with us.”

With us. Nesta hesitated, and Cassian definitely noticed.

“Ah, I knew you didn’t remember. Doesn’t surprise me. Your nose was always stuck in a book. Everyone thought you were a complete bitch, by the way.”

Nesta sat down her mug with far too much force on the countertop. “You don’t know what the hell you're talking about.”

“Am I wrong?” Cassian asked, chuckling.

Nesta practically growled, “About which part?”

“Any of it.” He took a drink of his coffee.

Nesta was quiet for a few seconds, knowing she couldn’t contradict any of what he’d said.

No, she didn’t remember him.

Yes, her nose was always in a book.

Yes, she was a complete bitch.

Dropping the subject for another time, she instead asked, “What does he do?”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you ask Elain or Az these things at dinner?”

“Because I want prior knowledge going in. She mentioned something about a dealership last night? But also tractors?”

“New tractor dealership opened in town. He’s a mechanic there. He used to work for a local business, but they had to shut it down last year. You’ll come to find that most local businesses around here aren’t making it anymore,” he said.

Nesta looked around. She knew the B&B had been struggling for years, but her father had never given up on it.

“Well, I guess I’ll get ready, if you’ll excuse me,” Nesta said, taking her mug and walking toward the hallway.

“No more questions?” Cassian asked, and when Nesta looked over her shoulder she found him watching her walk away.

“Is he good to my sister?” Nesta asked.

She was surprised to see his eyes soften when he said, “Very.”

Nesta turned without another word and headed back to the master bedroom to finish getting ready.

A half hour later, her hair and makeup were done and she was shimmying herself into a tight pair of jeans, a black tank top, and a pair of tennis shoes. Cassian was still sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone.

“I can drive myself, you know,” she muttered, putting her empty mug in the sink.

When she turned back around, his phone was ignored, all his attention was on her. A moment passed and he cleared his throat. “I realize that, but it’s never a bad idea to have a designated driver when you’re going to a bar.”

Nesta raised a brow. “You don’t drink?”

Cassian's grin widened. “I can just hold my alcohol.”

“And I can’t?” Nesta scoffed.

Cassian shrugged. “I don’t know, can you?”

Nesta took a minute to think about it. “Fine. There’s no point in both of us driving. Since I mean, we live together. Not together! But- Shit.” She sighed. “But we’re taking my car.”

He chuckled, but she could see the grin he was hiding, and got to his feet. “Like hell we are.”

They bickered the whole way to the door, which took longer than one would have expected. Nesta telling him she wasn’t riding in a dirty, beat up, old pickup and Cassian telling her to get the stick out of her ass and not worry about a little dirt.

As they stepped out onto the front porch, Nesta locking the door and hiding the key, she said, “These shoes were two hundred dollars, I’m not putting them anywhere near cow shit.”

Cassian just stared at her. “You own a cattle ranch.” Nesta hated it when he used logic and was going to tell him as much when he continued on and headed down the porch stairs. “And they’re just as likely to get dirty at the bar as they are out here. Now come on, this isn’t up for discussion. I can’t even fit in your tiny car.” He opened the passenger door and waited for him.

But Nesta was staring. Mouth open, not blinking, full on staring. “What is that?”

Cassian sighed. “It’s my truck, now get in, let’s go. It’s been a long ass day and I want a beer.”

This was not the truck Nesta was expecting to find out front. This definitely wasn’t the truck she’d seen him driving around the property. No, that truck had been on this property for as long as she could remember.

Nesta, stunned into silence, did as she was told. He had to help her up into the cab, and the second his hands were on her, she felt like the air had been pulled from her lungs.

“You okay?” Cassian asked, waiting as she turned her legs out of the way of the door.

Nesta nodded and he closed the door, heading to the driver’s side. She shook her head a couple times, trying to clear the fog in her head that always seemed to cloud her thoughts to when she was around him.

He started the truck, which was much quieter than Nesta was expecting and they were on their way.

It was quiet the first few minutes, only quiet music playing through the radio. Cassian kept time with the songs in multiple ways. Sometimes, he would brush his fingers along his jeans, almost like he was playing guitar. Sometimes, he’d tap the beat out with his non-driving foot. But mostly, he drummed on the steering wheel, often with his thumbs but occasionally, his whole hands.

Nesta just stared out the window. Finally, she turned to him and asked, “I’m sorry, if this comes off as rude, but how exactly were you able to buy this truck?” Cassian opened his mouth to reply but Nesta charged on. “Cause this is a very, very nice, very, very new truck.”

Cassian looked offended. “Definitely came off as rude.” Nesta rolled her eyes. “I-”

“I’m just kidding, relax,” Cassian said, laughing. “We just met, you can’t know all my secrets.”

“Oh my god,” Nesta began, staring at him from the passenger seat. “It’s illegal, isn’t it? You’re a hit man, aren’t you? Or a thief, oh my-”

“I can promise you I don’t break the law,” Cassian promised, then winked. “Often.”

Nesta shook her head. “You’re an interesting man.”

Cassian laughed. “Yeah, so are you. But, you know, a woman. By the way, we need to get you a pair of boots.”

Nesta looked down at her sneakers. “What’s wrong with these?”

“First of all, who the hell spends two hundred dollars on a pair of tennis shoes?” Cassian asked, then went on without giving her a chance to answer. “Secondly, must I continuously remind you that you now own a ranch?”

“I can be a ranch owner in my nice shoes.”

Cassian smiled as he turned into the parking lot of the bar. “But why the hell would you want to?”

She looked across the truck to his giant feet. He still wore his dusty boots. “Maybe you’re the one that needs new shoes. How long have you had those? They’re practically falling apart.”

“We’re not talking about me here, okay? We’re talking about you.” He hopped out of the truck before Nesta could respond and as quick as a flash, he was opening her door for her and helping her down from the cab. “And I’m pretty sure as soon as we go inside, you’ll see that I’m not exactly in the minority here, sweetheart.”

When he put her feet down on the ground, he kept his arms around her for a second and Nesta groaned in disgust and pushed back against his chest.

His rock hard, muscled chest.

He stepped back and as Nesta looked up into his hazel eyes, she tried not to think about the two times she’s seen him without his shirt, and the one with almost nothing. She cleared her throat and looked away. She started heading for the door and said, “So, heads up this could be...rough.”

Cassian caught up, sliding his hands in his pockets, after locking the truck behind them. “Okay?”

“I’m sure Elain invited Feyre, though I don’t know if she’ll come.” Nesta paused, realizing just how much anxiety she was feeling on walking through those peeling double doors. “She hates confrontation just as much as I do.”

Cassian was confused. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t she come?”

Nesta sighed, stopping before they got too close to the doors. “Feyre and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms, okay? She’s never forgiven me for leaving when mom died and I’ve never exactly given her a reason to, but… Gods, I just couldn’t stay here anymore.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Cassian said, leaning against the brick wall. “Rhys will be here, and I’m sure he can calm her down.”

“Who’s Rhys?” Nesta asked, glancing over at him.

His eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. “Her fiancé…”

“Her fiancé?” Nesta rubbed her temples. “I need a drink.”

She felt calloused hands wrap around her wrists and they were pulled from her head. Cass dropped her hands at her sides and said “It’s a good thing we’re at a bar then because I think I can help with that.” Despite herself, Nesta laughed. “Come on, boss. Let’s go.”

Her nose wrinkled as they started walking into the bar together. “Oh, don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”

Cassian snorted. “You sure? I would’ve thought the subservient inferior thing would do it for you.”

Nesta threw her head back and laughed, the sound so rich and beautiful, it stunned Cassian into silence for a moment.

“Cassian!”

His head whipped to the side, toward the bartender who’d called his name. “What’s up, Luce?”

He pointed toward the far corner of the bar. “In the back, corner booth. You want the usual?”

Cassian glanced down at Nesta. She asked, “What’s the usual?”

He smirked. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

She didn’t miss a beat before she tilted her head and said, “Make mine a double.”

Cassian’s eyebrows raised again and he said, “Okay. I’ll see you at the table.”

“Okay.” Nesta walked towards the back corner that the bartender, Lucien, she recalled his name being, letting her hips sway a little more than she typically would. But this banter, this back and forth with Cassian... It made her feel...different.

It had been far too long since she’d been with a man. Far too long since she’d found release in anything but her hand or some form of plastic. And even though he annoyed her to no end, even though he pushed her buttons and made her insane, Nesta found herself wondering just how far she could push him.

She was thinking about how good he’d looked wearing nothing but jeans and those dirty boots when someone stepped in her path. “Excuse me, if I could just-.” Nesta paused, realizing that she was looking into her own eyes. “Feyre?

A decade had done her baby sister well. She had grown up, that was for sure, a woman now, not the awkward teenager Nesta had left behind.

Feyre didn’t say anything, didn’t smile or even react to her eldest sister saying her name. Instead, she pulled back her hand.

Next thing Nesta knew, her face was screaming in sharp, searing pain. Strong arms wrapped around her and turned her away from her sister’s rage but her voice seemed to be farther away, too. Granted, the entire bar went silent at the sound of skin on skin, and when Nesta looked up, tears welling in her left eye, she found Cassian looking down at her. “You okay?”

She nodded, pressing her hand to her already swelling cheek. She could hear another hushed male voice calming Feyre down but couldn’t find the courage to look away from Cassian’s hazel eyes.

Cassian let her go and turned his back to her. His voice was light as he said, “A simple hello would have been good, Feyre.”

Nesta watched over his shoulder.

Feyre was storming away, and all that stood in her place was a man who Nesta assumed was Rhys.

He looked uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck. “She, uh, needs a minute.”

Meanwhile, at the table in the corner, Elain looked horrified. She was sitting, hands over her mouth, as a man wearing a black hoodie and a baggy beanie whispered into her ear.

Nesta was mortified.

Even as the people around her moved on, resuming their conversations and whatever else, Nesta knew her face had turned a deep shade of red - and not just where Feyre had slapped her.

“This was a mistake,” she whispered, backing away. “Take me back to the ranch.”

Cassian turned to meet her gaze and Rhys followed Feyre into the hallway where the restrooms were, both of them disappearing.

“Stay a while,” Cassian said, voice low.

“After that?” Nesta laughed, palm still pressed against her cheek. “Fuck, no. Take me back.”

“Not before you have a drink.”

Nesta’s embarrassment was quickly turning into anger. “Take. Me. Back.”

Cassian paid her no mind. Instead, he went around her and spoke in hushed tones to Lucien. The bartender nodded, poured two shots and placed them beside what Cassian had previously ordered - the usual.

Before Cassian could even say a word, Nesta had two shots down and was sipping on a tall glass of whiskey.

Cassian watched with what looked like amazement. “Slow d-”

“Tell me to slow down and you’re the next person in this bar getting slapped,” Nesta snapped, sitting on a barstool.

Cassian took a seat next to her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I can’t believe she fucking slapped me,” Nesta said, quietly, head already beginning to feel light. She didn’t drink much, just a glass of wine from time to time. She spent too much time working to drink. “I knew she wouldn’t be exactly pleased to see me, but…”

“When she comes back, I’m sure she’ll apologize,” Cassian promised, putting his own glass to his lips.

“I don’t want an apology,” Nesta said.

Cassian shook his head. “I know we’ve just met, but you are one stubborn woman.”

Nesta was so focused on her drink that she didn’t notice Elain coming toward her. It wasn’t until her arms were thrown around Nesta’s neck that she put her glass down on the bar.

“I’m so glad you came,” she said, obviously trying to pretend like their family drama hadn’t just been the bar’s entertainment. “This is Azriel.”

Nesta smiled, taking in his dark apparel. “You don’t look like someone that would work on tractors.” A laugh sputtered from her lips.

Cassian looked from her, to her glass, then to Elain. “She wasn’t kidding. She really can’t hold her liquor.”

Azriel just smiled, gently. “Not the first time I’ve heard. Elain’s told me a lot about you.”

Nesta leaned closer to him when she whispered, “And Cassian has told me a lot about you.”

“Oh no,” Azriel chuckled, looking to Cassian. “All good things I hope?”

Cassian shrugged. “Keep hoping.”

About that time, a door slammed on the other half of the bar. The four of them turned to see Feyre storm from the bathroom, grab her purse from the booth and walk out the front door. She didn’t so much as spare a glance at their direction.

“Oof,” Azriel breathed, watching the door slowly close behind Feyre’s retreating figure. He then glanced over to see Rhysand leaving the bathroom, rubbing his hands over his face in exasperation. “Bigger oof.”

Rhy looked at the table and found it empty, but glanced over and found their group looking towards him. He made his way through the crowd until he joined them.

As he approached, a shot glass appeared next to Azriel’s arm and he handed it to Rhys after throwing a grateful look to Lucien. Rhys tossed it back and let out a sharp breath. He pointed at Cass, Az and Elain with each word he said. “Not one of you assholes could at least warn me that she was coming?”

Nesta understood his frustrations, but the alcohol in her had her too far gone to care. “What? How am I the bad guy here?”

Elain looked sympathetically at Nesta as she said, “If we did, Feyre wouldn’t have come and you know it.”

“Wow,” Nesta said, cutting off whatever Rhysand was about to say in response. “You sure know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

“Well, Feyre’s pissed now, so...” Rhysand sighed, then truly looked at Nesta.

Nesta couldn’t tell what he was thinking and, thanks to the alcohol, she really didn’t care. “Look, you hurry after her and tell her that I love her. Okay? Then...you can come back and get me another drink. Bartender!”

“Okay,” Cassian said, looking over his shoulder to shake his head at Lucien. “I think you-.” When Cassian looked back to Nesta, she had finished off his drink. “Seriously?”

“Also, who the fuck does Feyre think she is? I mean...she isn’t perfect, either. She hates me, so what? She’s not the only one that ha-ha-hates me. I hate me. I had to get out. I had to leave, okay? I had to go. It’s-it’s-it’s not my fault she doesn’t understand that.” Nesta was pointing to where Feyre had disappeared through the double doors, into the night. “I had to leave. I had to.”

Elain looked up to Azriel with sorrow-filled brown eyes.

Nesta snorted. “Cassian.” She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close to her. “Get the red-haired man to give me another glass of the usual.”

All of Rhysand’s frustration seemed to have faded as he watched Nesta allow the alcohol to consume her. “Look, I’ll talk to Feyre, okay? Maybe we can get together...soon…”

Nesta shrugged. “She won’t listen. She’s almost as stubborn as me. You know, people have always said we both take after our mo-.” Nesta froze, unable to get the word out. She cleared her throat, picking up the glass behind her that had just been refilled. “Our mom.”

With that, she downed its contents.

Cassian handed her a glass of water and stepped in front of her and she sipped it. He leaned down so he was eye level with her. “You okay?” She nodded. “You gonna get sick?” She shook her head no. “Good.”

He took the now half empty glass of water and set it back on the bar, before unceremoniously tossing Nesta over his shoulder. He grabbed her clutch where it was sitting on the bar and waved it at his family. “Glad we could do this, can’t wait to get everyone back together again.”

“Put. Me. Down!” Each word Nesta hollered was punctuated by a swift hit to his lower back. Or was it his ass? She couldn’t tell, nor did she care.

“Lucien, I’ll get you next time, okay?”

Cassian didn’t even need to look back over his shoulder to see his friend close out his tab at a zero balance and wrote his name on the long IOU list.

He pushed through the open doors and Nesta was still fighting him as he carried her towards the truck. “Put me down, you brute!”

“Nope, I’m doing you like you asked first. Taking you back to the ranch.” He readjusted his grip on her and his left hand planted firmly on her ass.

She gasped. “You did that on purpose.”

Cassian chuckled. “Made you stop fighting me.”

He unlocked the passenger door and dropped her on the truck bench. He tossed her clutch inside before shutting the door and walking to the driver’s side. As he was getting inside, Nesta locked eyes with Feyre, who was sitting on the bed of a black truck, parked a few spaces away.

Waiting for Rhysand, no doubt.

But Rhysand was not the reason that Feyre’s cheeks were red and blotchy, her eyes swollen.

Nesta quickly looked away as Cassian backed out of their parking spot and found the main road.

“That was fun,” Cassian observed.

Nesta looked over at him, watched as he kept one hand on the wheel and rested the other on the gear shift. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing tattoos along his forearms.

“Do they have meaning?” Nesta asked, surprised at how quiet her voice had become.

Cassian glanced at her, brow raised, before realizing she was looking at his tattoos. “Some of them, yeah.”

“Let me guess, you’re not going to tell me because I can’t know all your secrets?” She asked, repeating the excuse he had told her so many times throughout the last forty-eight hours.

Cassian huffed a laugh, biting on his bottom lip. “Look at you, already knowing what I’m going to say.”

Nesta laughed, under her breath, as she looked at the road in front of them. There had been a time when Nesta had loved Velaris, had loved all it had to offer. She rested her head against the window and admired the starlight.

“What about you?” Nesta asked, refusing to look his way. “Do you think I’m a bitch?”

“I think you’re….” He weighed a few words in his head, deciding which one fit best. “Difficult.”

“Difficult?” Nesta laughed. “You make me sound like a misbehaving child!”

“Well…” Cassian said, taking a sharp breath between his teeth.

“Shut up!” Nesta cried, laughing again, covering her face with her hands.

The truck stopped and settled as Cassian put it into park. A calloused finger gently pried one of her hands from her face. “Are you okay?”

Nesta knew he wasn’t asking her about her alcohol tolerance level this time. She pulled her hand away, which had still been resting on her throbbing cheek, and pressed her fingers into the tender skin. She nodded.

“I’m sorry that happened. I really am.”

She looked over at him, his voice much closer than she expected. She didn’t recognize the surroundings around her. “Where are we?”

“Outside my place. I knew the freezer was out at the main house and didn’t know what you had in yours. I know I’ve got a bag of peas inside I was gonna grab and-.”

Nesta was unbuckling her seatbelt and sliding out of the cab.

“I was just gonna grab them and take you back up to the main house,” Cassian said, killing the engine and hopping out behind her.

“I want to see it,” Nesta said, walking toward the porch. “I’ve always thought it was cute.” She stepped in something slimy and looked down. “Are you kidding me?!”

Cassian walked over to where she was standing and laughed. He laughed harder than he had in months and said, “Now do you believe we should get you some boots?” Nesta didn’t say a word, she just scraped what she could off into the grass around her. Cassian made his way up the steps of the cabin and said, “Besides, that wasn’t from a horse. That was from Beau.”

Nesta asked, “Who’s Beau?” right as Cassian opened the door.

A Blue Heeler pup, no older than six months came tearing out the door.

Nesta instantly forgot about her shoes as the pup jumped up on her legs.

Cassian whistled. “Down, Beau.”

“It’s okay,” Nesta laughed, scratching behind his ears. “He’s sweet.”

Beau wagged his tail, knowing full well he was showing off and his cuteness was being accepted. The pup trotted around Nesta as she crossed the threshold into the small cabin.

Cassian tossed his keys on a side table, next to a recliner in the main room. “I’m training him to help me around the ranch.”

Nesta raised a brow as Beau hurried out the front door. “Yeah? How’s that going?”

Cassian closed the screen door as he watched Beau chasing his tail at the bottom of the steps. “Not great so far.”

Nesta laughed, stepping up beside him. “Thanks for driving me tonight. Even if you hauling me out of the bar was completely unnecessary….I would have done something I’d regret if I stayed.”

Cassian glanced sideways at her before turning to face her, head on. “Starting to sober up, are you?”

Nesta snorted. “I’m fine. My head is just a little...light.”

“Ah,” Cassian grinned. “The light phase.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, realizing how close they were standing to one another before taking a step back.

“So,” Cassian said, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re inside. What do you think?”

It was simple. Clean.

There was a woven blanket tossed over the recliner in the living room, but that, a soft leather couch, the side table, and the television sitting on top of a little table, were all that were in there. There was no table in the kitchen, but a refrigerator, a microwave, and an oven.

“It’s nice,” she said, quietly.

Cassian laughed. “I’m not sure I believe you. Take a seat.”

He nodded toward the recliner and Nesta obeyed as Cassian went into the kitchen and opened the freezer, pulling out a sealed bag of frozen peas.

Nesta had made herself comfortable by the time he reached her and placed the bag gently over her cheek. “I know it was shitty what she did, but Feyre has one hell of a slap.”

Nesta nudged him in the shin with her foot.

He chuckled and made his way back towards the kitchen. Nesta took a minute to lean back and close her eyes. She heard the opening and closing of a few cupboards and some ice cubes tinkling in glasses. She heard tiny hard pieces of food getting poured into a bowl. She heard his boots, heavy on the wood floor, as he made his way to the door and whistled once. The dog was inside in a matter of seconds and chowing down on his dinner. And then she heard a thud near her head.

Her eyes flew open as she looked over where the noise came from.

“I don’t think I can handle another usual,” she admitted, sheepishly.

He chuckled, leaning against the counter top bar. “I can promise you’ll like that better than the one at the bar. Try it.”

Nesta hesitantly picked it up and sniffed. It smelled sweet. “What is it?”

“Try it, sweetheart, and then I’ll tell you.” He took a large drink from his own glass, which seemed to be the same thing she was drinking. She watched him for a minute, eyes narrowed. “What?” He laughed, chewing on an ice cube.

She looked from him to the drink and back. “Waiting to make sure you aren’t about drop dead from whatever poison you were trying to sneak to me.”

Cassian began to laugh. No, not only laugh. He began to howl. He was laughing so hard, Beau began to howl along with him. Nesta’s eyes were huge by the time he calmed down and could speak to her.

“Just try it, damn it,” he said, before helping himself to more of his own.

Nesta took a small, hesitant sip. The cool liquid was definitely sweeter than the usual at the bar.

“Maple bourbon,” Cassian muttered, finishing his glass and setting it on the table before sitting on the floor across from the recliner.

Nesta took another sip. “It’s good.”

“I know,” Cassian said, smiling up at her.

They watched each other for a moment, and Nesta soon became uncomfortable at his gaze. Not because she feared him, but because she didn’t fear him at all.

“I’m sorry about this morning. I was unfair to you.”

Cassian’s brows rose. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Neither am I,” he said, but his voice had grown significantly softer.

Their eyes still remained connected to one another’s.

Nesta swore she could hear his deep, unsteady breaths, as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “I should probably go.”

She looked over and couldn’t read the expression on his face. She set the bag down, giving him her attention. “Or...you could stay and have another drink with me.” Nesta opened her mouth to explain why that was a bad idea but he held up a finger and began again. “Not because I’m trying to get in your pants, but because I think it’ll be easier for us to open up this way. No holds barred, yeah? No secrets, for the most part, just two coworkers getting to know each other.”

Nesta watched him, waited, and asked, “For the most part?”

Cassian smiled, a wicked grin, and said, “See, that’s where the drinking comes in. You don’t have to answer, but then you have to drink.”

She blinked at him. “So we’re playing ‘Twenty Questions’?”

Cassian stood, taking her glass with a huff, and saying, “Well, now it doesn’t sound as cool, does it?”

Nesta giggled, actually giggled, as he filled their glasses back to the top and gave Nesta a straw. He reached out to hand it back to her, but took it back at the last minute. She flinched and looked up at him. “No half ass girly sips,” he said, hazel eyes sparkling. “It better count.”

She snatched the glass from him and he laughed, sitting back down against the wall. He whistled once and instantly Beau was there against his side.

Nesta’s eyebrows were raised. “I’m impressed,” she said, not hiding her amusement.

He rubbed the pup’s side lovingly. “He’s a good one, that’s for sure.” He pulled his boots off one at a time and tossed them by the door, each with a loud thud. Once he’d finally settled in, he waved to her. “Ladies first.”

Nesta took a minute to think about it. “How old are you?”

Cassian blinked. “That’s the worst question, ever.”

Nesta threw her hands in the air. “Well, I thought I’d start with something simple.”

Cassian laughed, leaning his head back. “Alright. Twenty-seven.”

“Me too,” Nesta said.

“I know. We were in the same graduating class.”

Nesta cursed. She kept forgetting they went to the same high school.

“Your turn,” she urged.

“Hmmmm,” he said, pretending to think a lot harder than he actually was. “Are you happy to be back on the ranch?”

For a split second, Nesta thought about taking a drink, but she came to the conclusion that the question really wasn’t all that bad. “Kinda.”

“That’s it?” he laughed. “Kinda?”

“You didn’t say I had to give extensive answers,” she laughed.

Cassian shook his head. “Well, now I am. New rule.”

“You can’t just add rules.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he said, leaning back on his hands as Beau nestled himself in Cassian’s lap.

Nesta pursed her lips, rethinking that drink, but decided to attempt to explain herself. “The only reason I haven’t wanted to be here is because of the memories. And I’m really hoping that I can…make new memories to replace the bad ones.”

In the end, she did take a drink, but out of fortification, not punishment. Cassian saw that and accepted her answer, not wanting to push her. She blew a quick breath out before asking, “You said you’d been working for my dad for eight years, yeah?” Cassian nodded, even though that clearly couldn’t have just been the question. “What did you do the year between graduation and starting here?”

“Tried my hand at the professional rodeo circuit.” Cassian didn’t miss a beat.

It took Nesta back. “Really? What’d you do? Bull riding?”

“Hell no,” Cassian laughed. “I wasn’t that stupid. Well, no, I was that stupid. I was just too big. You gotta be little to ride bulls. No, I was a team roper.”

“Wow.” Nesta was watching Cassian with her head tilted, almost looking at him in a new light. “Header or heeler?”

“Header,” he replied, pretending to throw the rope at the horns. “Rhys was my heeler. We were good. Won every PRCA Jr. rodeo event in our areas. So we figured it’d be nothing to make that jump up with the big dogs.” He chuckled. “We were so wrong.” He took a quick sip before saying, “The day we got back into town I ran into your dad down at Tractor Supply. Told me he needed a ranch hand to help out since Elain had college every day and Feyre was still in high school.” Cassian chuckled. “He actually hired both of us on at first, me and Rhys. He only lasted about three months though.” He began to laugh again.

“What? Why?” Nesta couldn’t imagine her father firing anyone, much less someone she had gone to school with.

“That was when he caught him sneaking out of Feyre’s window at two in the morning.”

Nesta’s eyes grew wide before she began to howl. “Oh my god. Elain forgot to mention that in our texts throughout the years.”

Cassian laughed, gripping his glass tighter. “It was hilarious. I let your dad know I was on his side, and I proved that by picking on Rhysand every chance I got.”

“Wow,” Nesta breathed, laughter fading. “And you’ve been here ever since?”

“That’s an extra question,” he said. “Unfair.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Fine. Go.”

Cassian’s eyes softened as he met her gaze. “Elain said you were a chef. Did you like it? Was it hard to leave?”

Nesta tilted her head. “That’s two questions.”

“Pretend it’s one,” Cassian said.

Nesta looked at him for a minute before taking a long, slow drink. What could she have said? Yes, I loved it. It was my dream. I was young, incredibly successful, and rich as hell. I left because I felt guilty for the death of my parents.

Cassian nodded, watching her. “Fair enough.”

Nesta cleared her throat before abruptly asking, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Cassian’s amused smile returned.

Nesta shrugged. “I’ve seen you near-nude twice now, it’s a question, as your boss, I thought I should ask.”

Cassian’s smile grew as he shook his head. “No, I don’t. Not a lot of time for one. Haven’t really been looking. What about you? Someone overseas you were seeing?”

Nesta looked down at Beau, who was snoring quietly. “Is that your next question?”

Cassian sighed. “I suppose so.”

Nesta shook her head. “No. I worked too much. I haven’t been on a date in...shit. A few years?”

“Years?” Cassian said, eyes wide. “Hell, woman. You couldn’t take one night off from your busy schedule in years?”

She simply shrugged. “No.”

Cassian took a drink, watching her. “When’s the last time someone took care of you, sweetheart?”

As the words left his lips, Nesta was feeling hot and cold all over, all at the same time. And she didn’t think it was just from her drink. “It’s not your turn,” she breathed.

He swallowed hard and nodded, chuckling. “Go on, then.”

She took another drink of her own, before she asked, “How did you afford that truck out there.”

Cassian didn’t even try to look like he contemplated answering as he put the glass to his lips and drank deeply. “But I promise it’s not illegal,” he added with a chuckle. Nesta could hear the slight slur to his words, making the bit of drawl heavier than normal. “Do you really not remember me from high school?”

Nesta felt her shoulders sag. “No, I- I don’t. I’m sorry. But don’t feel bad,” she quickly added. “I sort of blocked everyone out and don’t remember anyone. So at least I don’t remember you, instead of remembering you for a bad reason.”

Cassian nodded, amused. “Well, I remember you.”

Her cheeks burned. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”

“I can’t talk in between questions?” He laughed.

Nesta shook her head. “Nope, that’s my rule.”

Cassian took a sip from his glass. “Rules were made to be broken, you know.”

Nesta couldn’t stop her smile. “What do your tattoos mean?”

Cassian rolled up his sleeves even further and examined the ink. “A lot of things.”

“Bad answer,” Nesta said, slipping off her shoes and bringing her feet up beneath her in the chair.

Cassian nodded. “Then I guess I’ll drink.” He raised his glass before bringing it to his mouth.

“And here I thought we were playing this game to get to know each other,” Nesta laughed.

“Can’t give you-“

“All your secrets,” Nesta finished. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Do you have any tattoos?” He asked.

“What?” She laughed. “So you can know mine but I can’t know yours?”

His eyes lit up. They were glazed, but so excited. “So you do. What are they?”

Nesta took a sip, but because she was copping out, but because as the night went on, as the ice melted into the sweet bourbon, she loved the taste of it. “It’s just one,” she said, standing. She began to unbutton her pants and she heard Cassian swallow harshly. She looked up at him. “Down boy,” she chuckled. “It’s on my hip. I can’t exactly show with my pants all the way on.”

He cleared his throat and stood, refilling his glass. When he came back to the threadbare living room, Nesta had the left side of her jeans pulled down, exposing her hip bone. As he looked at it, Nesta explained, “It’s a dandelion. To remind myself that everyone, even I deserve a second chance, even though you might have to endure some harsh winds.”

When she looked away from her tattoo, she caught sight of the way his jeans seemed to be a bit more tight than they were before. Letting her eyes travel up his body, she saw the way his body was rigid, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His eyes, that woody hazel that she kept losing herself in, it was almost completely gone, his pupils blown out. “Your turn,” he breathed, and as his breath fanned across her face, she realized how closely they stood together.

Nesta’s breathing hitched as her entire body felt weightless.

His words from before replayed in her mind. When’s the last time someone took care of you, sweetheart?

“If given the chance,” she began, voice hushed, “would you fuck me?”

The question, asked in no more than a whisper, lingered in the quiet cabin.

Cassian said nothing as those deep, hazel eyes bore into her own. And then, he took a long, slow drink, before setting down his glass on the table beside her chair.

Breaking his gaze from hers, he went down the short hallway and disappeared into the back bedroom.

Nesta stared after him. She probably should have been embarrassed, but the alcohol coursing through her system told her not to be.

Instead, jeans still unbuttoned, she took an unbalanced step toward the front door, then another.

It wasn’t until she heard quick, heavy footsteps coming back her way that she turned around and was met with Cassian’s lips crashing into her own.

#the ranch nessian #shara collab #tacmc toab tag team #toab tacmc collab #throne of ashes and beauty #tacmc #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #a court of silver flames

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Riding High

Ch19: Unfair Comparison

Chapter Summary: Fliss is not a happy bunny when she realises Frank hasn’t dumped the card.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, NO UNDER 18s!)

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 18

“What an ass hole." Greg shook his head, tossing the card onto the coffee table. "Tell me about it." Frank sighed as he ran his hand through his hair and leaned back heavily against the cushions of Greg's sofa. "I just..." "I know pal." Greg soothed him, "Technically you’re right, he has breached his parole. So Fliss would be perfectly within her tights to call the police. However, he’s gonna deny it, there’ll be an investigation…you’re back into statements possibly court again...all it needs is one member of a jury, if it even goes that far to doubt he sent it and..." "So I'm just supposed to sit back and let it lie?" Frank looked at Greg, almost pleading with the man to give him some kind of advice he could use. "In a word yes." Greg shrugged "and not least because that's what Fliss asked you to."

“I’m worried Greg.” Frank shook his head “Yes, it’s just a card but it proves he knows where she is…” “Not hard, her business has a website.” “Yes, I know that…” Frank started but Greg cut him off. “Frank, he can’t come out of Massachusetts. He cannot physically set foot outside of that state without his GPS tag tipping the police off.”

Frank bit the inside of his cheek, his jaw twitching.

“Look, buddy, I get it.” Greg continued, his tone soft “I really do…it’s shit. But for now the best thing for you to do is listen to Fliss.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Tell you what. I’ll keep the card. If she gets any more stuff from him then we can build a portfolio and send it to the police. It’s more likely to come to something if we have more incidents.”

“So basically, we just have to wait until he sends her more crap and then we might, or might not be able to do anything?” “I’m sorry pal.” Greg shrugged.

“It’s not your fault.” Frank sighed, shrugging. “Sorry I snapped. I appreciate the advice.”

“I wish I could be a little more positive.”

“Don’t we all?” Frank said, slapping his thighs with his hands “I best get off, got stuff to do this afternoon.” Greg eyed him for a moment as he stood up, before he rose from his seat to see Frank out of the villa.

“Just be there for Fliss ok?” he said as they walked to the door “Frank, if she’s asking you to do something, unless it’s really dumb then do it. Give her the control, yeah?” Frank merely nodded and then climbed into his truck, still as pissed off as he had been when he had arrived. He reached for his shades, slipped them on and headed down to the marina. He spent the afternoon cleaning the boat. And whilst it didn’t take him long as they hadn’t taken an awful lot with them, he decided to give the entire thing a good wash down and polish inside, more to keep him occupied. Paul arrived at just gone 3 pm, and was over the moon with the fact his boat had come back to him in a better condition than it had gone out in…making a quip that Frank could borrow it whenever the hell he wanted if it meant service like that.

He was just heading back to his truck when Fliss called him.

“How are my girls?” he asked and she chuckled slightly.

“Good, we’re done now so be heading home soon. What do you fancy for dinner? Anything in particular?” “I’ll swing by the store, pick up a few steaks and we can grill.” Frank said, climbing into the truck “And a bottle of Rioja?” “Perfect. Did you get rid of that card?” Frank hesitated for a second. “I took care of it.”

“Frank?” her voice had grew a little sterner. “What does that mean? What did you do?” “I took it to Greg.” he grimaced as she made an angry noise on the other side of the phone.

“Damnit Frank, I asked you to get rid of it…” “I just wanted some advice. Thought I’d see what Greg made of it and-“

“You had no right to do that…” her voice was angry “That wasn’t your decision to make…” “Lissy…” he sighed “Look, let’s not do this on the phone. We can discuss it at home ok?”

And then the familiar tone hit his ear, signalling she’d hung up.

With a groan he banged his forehead against the steering wheel in frustration. He wasn’t looking forward one bit to that conversation.

He walked into the store a few blocks from their home, and for a second debated taking his time, just to stall but he knew he would simply be delaying the inevitable. It didn’t matter how long he left it, there was going to be an argument. He grabbed what they needed for dinner, and a few packets of snacks before he headed back out to his truck. 5 minutes or so later he was home, and walked up the steps, letting himself in. Fliss and Mary were both in the kitchen, Mary sat on the counter with a juice box, Fliss clutching a beer.

“Hey…” he said, a little tentatively. Fliss gave him a tight smile and turned her head so that his kiss landed on her cheek.

Yeah, he was in for it. Big time.

“You had a good day?” he asked, placing the bag on the side and looked at Mary.

She nodded eagerly “I cantered today, off the lead line,” “Did you?” He smiled at her “Nice work Stack.” “Fliss got a video. Can we show Frank?” “Sure.” Fliss smiled at her, and pulled out her phone. She swiped at the screen and passed it to Mary who took it, and Frank moved so he could watch the footage over her shoulder.

“My balance is still a little bit crappy…” Mary shrugged “But I didn’t fall.” “Your balance is fine.” Fliss said gently “You just need to keep your lower leg still but that will come in time. You’re doing great.” Mary beamed and handed Fliss her phone back.

“Why don’t you go get showered?” Frank looked at Mary “I need to speak to Fliss for a moment ok?”

“Can I go on my computer once I’m washed up?” “Sure.” Frank nodded. She hopped down from the counter and wandered out of the room. Frank watched her go for a moment before he turned to see Fliss was stood looking at him. “So what did Greg say?” she asked, folding her arms

“Nothing different to what you said.” Frank looked at her.

“Right, and if he had said something different, like told you to go to the police, would you have done that behind my back too?” “No, of course not!” Frank shook his head as he leaned back against the kitchen counter, both hands either side of his body on the edge of the worktop, “That’s not what I-“ he took a deep breath “Honey, I just want to make sure that we do everything right. Greg’s gonna keep the card on file, says if you get anything else then he’ll keep that too, build a case.”

Fliss looked at him for a moment before she shrugged “Whatever” “Whatever?” Frank frowned “That’s all you can say, whatever?” “Well what else am I supposed to say?” she looked back at him “You clearly know best…” “Fliss…” he sighed, “Don’t be like that…” “I’m not being like anything.” she shook her head “You’re the one that went behind my back, ignored what I asked you to do.”

“With good reason…” “You know, I thought I might be at a point in my life where I get to make the decisions about things that directly affect or concern me but clearly, I was wrong…” “Woah, woah, woah, now hang on…” Frank pushed away from the unit he was leaning against, holding his hand up “Are you seriously comparing what I did to him….” “No, of course not.” she snapped. “Well that kinda sounds like what you were doing…” his hands fell to his hips.

“Oh don’t be a dick, Frank.” she glared at him. “That’s not what I meant.” “Well what did you mean?”

“I already said exactly what I mean!” she said, her voice rising in volume “You had no right to do that, no right at all to go behind my back like you did. I couldn’t do anything about him getting released, but the one thing I can control is how I react to this entire situation…and you took that away from me!” “You’re completely overreacting…” “Overreacting?” “Yes…” he strepped towards her “Liss, I didn’t do it to take control…nothing of the sort…” “How would you feel if you told me not to do something with Mary, something that meant a lot to you, and I still went and did it anyway?” “That’s…” he shook his head “That’s completely different.” “No, it isn’t!” she yelled back “It would be a complete disregard for your wishes, it’s exactly the same…” Frank looked at her, his eyes locking onto hers as she simply snorted and shook her head “You don’t even see what you did wrong do you?” “No, and I’m not apologising either.” he shook his head

“Of course you’re not.” she snorted “This is getting us nowhere.”

With that she turned and called for Thor.

“Where are you going?” he frowned, following her into the hall as she slipped on her sneakers.

“Out.”

“Where?” he asked, when she didn’t reply he pressed again “Lissy.” “Piss off Frank.” she shot back, and with that she stormed out of the front door, slamming it behind her.

Frank stood still, his hands on his hips before he dropped his head with a sigh.

“Nice job…” he heard Mary say from behind him.

“Shut up.” he snapped, a little harshly as he turned to face her. She glared at him and then rolled her eyes.

“I’m going back to my room.” she said simply, stalking off down the corridor, laptop under her arm.

Frank watched her go before he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Way to go Adler, you fucking idiot.

**** Fliss angrily stomped across the lawn and took a right, Thor trotting at her heels. She walked down the path that led to the Marina, took a left and dropped down the stone steps onto the beach, pausing to remove her sneakers. She dug her toes into the sand, rolled up her riding britches as much as she could before she headed to the waters edge, allowing the water to splash over her legs, Thor giving an excited bark as he gambolled in and out of the waves.

She was angry. Angrier than she had been in a long time. But it was more than that, she felt betrayed in a way. She had asked Frank to do something, something she felt she was perfectly within her rights to request and he had deliberately ignored her.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been stood there, simply looking out over at the horizon but she was jolted from her thoughts by her phone ringing. She debated ignoring it for a while, but eventually she pulled it from her pocket and took a breath as she realised it was her Dad.

“Hey Pops.” she greeted him. “You ok?” “Yeah fine Titch.” he said, “Just noticed I had a missed call…” “Oh, yeah…” she said, for a moment she had forgotten she had called. She had been planning to tell him about the card but as she stood there, she wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore “It wasn’t important.” “Charming…” she heard her mother and Fliss let out a chuckle.

“You got me on speaker?”

“Bluetooth.” Bill replied “We’ve been to the store.” “Stocking up for tomorrow.” Verity said “Can’t have a roast dinner with no potatoes…Mary would have a fit.”

“Yeah…yeah she will.” Fliss said with a sigh.

There was a pause before Bill spoke again “Lissy, you ok?” “Not really no…” she said, her eyes brimming with tears. “Me and Frank, we had an argument…a pretty big one…” “What about?” Bill asked.

“So, this morning I had a card arrive at the yard…and it was from John…” Bill made an angry noise as Verity let out an exclamation.

“That’s…he’s broken his parole…” “I know, but they’re not gonna launch an investigation over a card…so I asked Frank to get rid of it. But he took it to Greg behind my back and…” She trailed off, rubbing at her temple.

“So I’m guessing you discussed your disappointment with him in a calm and collected manner…” Bill said sarcastically.

“If by calm you mean calling him a dick and storming out then yeah.” Fliss replied.

There was another moment of silence and Verity spoke again. “Honey, look…I’m sure he did what he thought was right…” “That’s not the point!” Fliss groaned “the point is I asked him not to. And he did it anyway. The one thing I can control in all of this is how I deal with it. And he completely disregarded that.” “Look, Liss, I love you to pieces, we both do” Bill spoke “But so does Frank, and him taking that card to Greg won’t have been about going behind your back. Have you considered how he feels in all of this?” “How he feels?” “Yeah, this is…this is something he will never have dealt with before. Seeing some other man basically trying to terrorise his girlfriend…he’s going to want to hit back, try and see if there’s something he can do. This isn’t about control. It’s about keeping you safe.”

Verity picked up the conversation at that point.

“I see your point sweetheart, and yes, he should have discussed it first but...” “So you both think I’m in the wrong?” Fliss asked gently, as she looked at her feet, Thor returning to her side and flopping down on the damp sand. “No…that’s not what either of are saying, is it V?”

“No, not at all. He had no right to go behind your back, I get that honey I do, but…well, this can’t be easy for Frank either. And maybe…” “Maybe you should cut him some slack.” Bill finished “He’s a good man Fliss, and heaven knows you waited long enough for one to come along.”

“I know.” Fliss said quietly, the tears trickling down her face. “I know…” “I can hear the ocean…so go home.” Bill said gently. “Talk to him. Calmly. Don’t let that asshole get in the middle of what you two have Titch, you both deserve more than that.”

She nodded to herself, wiping her face and then bidding her parents good-bye she placed the phone back in her pocket. Mulling their words over she turned and headed back across the sand, the sun setting behind them as she made her way over to the food truck parked by the side of the boardwalk.

******

By the time Frank had convinced Mary to speak to him so he could apologise for snapping, it was getting dark out. Fliss had been gone for a good hour and a half, and Frank was getting a little concerned. He was just about to call Roberta to watch Mary whilst he went out looking, when the door opened and Thor padded into the living room.

Frank stood up and turned to see Fliss in the doorway. Her eyes locked onto his and he gave her a small smile.

“I was getting kinda worried.” Frank said softly “Wasn’t sure you were coming home.”

“Neither was I.” she replied honestly and Frank swallowed slightly as she looked at him and sighed “I’m going for a shower then to bed. I’m tired.” “Ok.” he nodded “Do you want something to eat or…” “I grabbed a burger when I was out.” she shrugged, “I’m fine, thanks.” There was a moment of silence during which Frank simply nodded and then Fliss turned and headed down the corridor, popping her head into Mary’s room to say goodnight. Once he watched her open the door to the bathroom and shut it behind her, he set about quickly tidying the kitchen up, tossing the empty beer bottles into the recycling box under the sink before he loaded the dishwasher and set it going. He moved around the living room, tidying a few things away before he turned the lights off and made his way into the bedroom.

Fliss was led on the bed, remote to the TV held in her hand as she glanced up at him for a second, her eyes flicking back to the screen on the wall.

“You still mad at me?” he asked tentatively as he pulled off his t-shirt. She looked at him for a second and sighed.

“Dad told me I was being an idiot.” “Right.” he said, sitting down on the bed next to her, extending his legs down the bed “That’s not answering my question sweetheart.” “I don’t know anymore” she shrugged “Yes, I’m still mad you did it…but I understand why. The fact you had the right intentions doesn’t make going behind my back any better.” “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that, and yeah, ok, I should have asked you first, talked it over.” Frank conceded nodding “I’m sorry.”

“And I’m sorry if you thought before that I was saying you’re anything like him because you’re not…and I know that…because I can get mad at you and…well, that makes it impossible to stay mad at you for long…”

“What?” Frank looked at her, smiling, his eyebrow raised. “What does that even mean?” Fliss looked at him, a faint smile on her face as she sighed “It means that I can get mad at you, and shout, and leave in a temper tantrum for a walk or whatever, without worrying that when I come back you’re gonna hurt me.” Frank looked at her for a moment, as her words sunk in. Something so simple as having an argument was such a huge thing for her, and the fact she even saw having an argument as a measurement of how much she could trust him because she felt comfortable enough to call him out on the things he did that she didn’t like or agree with, was utterly fucked up. But in a strange way, made total sense.

She could argue with him because she felt safe…

Frank moved so he was led on his side, propped up on his elbow facing her, his hand gently reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked down at him where she was led, shoulders leaning against the bottom of the head board of the bed. He could see she was getting upset now, her brown eyes were watering and with a sigh he gestured with his head and opened his arms and she shuffled down further, allowing him to pull her into his chest, gently kissing her head.

“I love you.” he said softly “So much. I only went to Greg because I was worried. I’d do anything to keep you and Mary safe, you know that.”

“I know…” she said quietly as he slid his finger under her chin, lifting her head so that she was looking at him. Lowering his head, he kissed her softly, his hand cupping her cheek as his lips gently worked against hers. She relaxed into him, allowing him to deepen the kiss, his hand tangling in her hair as her fingers softly skated through his short beard. Frank let out a smile against her mouth and she pulled back to look at him, her soft, brown eyes searching his.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing…” he smiled, “I just like it when you do that…” “What? This?” she asked, her nails scratching slightly against his whiskers and he let out a sigh of satisfaction, giving a nod. Fliss watched him for a second as his eyelids flickered shut, those ridiculously long lashes resting against his cheeks as she continued to gently run her hands through his beard, before she shuffled closer and pressed her lips to his.

“I like it when you do that too…” he chuckled and she smiled against his mouth. They continued trading soft, tender kisses before Frank slowly moved so that Fliss was led under him, caging her with his arms as she gently ran her hands through his hair, pulling his head back down to kiss her again. His lips gently trailed along her jaw line to that spot on her neck just below her ear where he gave a soft nip causing Fliss to let out a soft moan. Her hips bucked upwards slightly, drawing a soft growl from Frank’s throat at the feeling as she pushed against him, all the time his mouth continuing its path downwards, tracing the line of her throat as his hands reached down and gently tugged at the hem of her vest top. She sat up slightly allowing him to remove it and he fell back over her, his lips latching back onto her neck, drawing another soft groan from Fliss at the feeling of his beard scratching against her skin and the contrast of his soft lips. His tongue circled the swell of her breast before he gently took a nipple into his mouth, listening to her keens as he teased her, his other hand sliding down over the curve of her hip, fingers brushing the hem of her sleep shorts before he slid his hand beneath the material, parting her folds as he began to tease her with his fingers, coaxing more and more wetness from her as he went. He glanced up to see her head was thrown back against her pillow, eyes shut in utter bliss as she bit her lip.

“Look at me.” he said softly, moving so that his face was hovering over hers again, fingers still working. She opened those deep brown eyes he felt he could drown in and her pupils were blown with desire. His fingers picked up their pace and he slid one, then two inside her, curling against her spot over and over again.

“Frankie…” she panted as her back arched, “I..” her words stopped as she found herself unable to form them any longer, instead issuing a low gasp which turned into a groan as her eyes fluttered shut and she convulsed underneath him, tighten around his fingers. Eventually she relaxed and her breathing evened out slightly and she looked up at him, a soft smile on her face before her hand slid up into his hair, as he slanted his mouth over hers.

Then it was a fast scramble to get both of them out of the last remaining, thin barriers of clothing before Frank nestled into the v of her legs, mouth nipping at her collar bone.

“Want you…” she purred into his ear and fuck, did he want her too. Her hand reached down between them, and she gently lined him up, pressing her lips to his.

“Don’t keep me waiting Sailor.”

And Frank, not one to refuse his girl what she wanted did as she asked, worked into her with a steady, gentle movement which made him shudder, dropping to his elbows over her as she gave a soft moan. Her hands gently gripped at his broad shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts slow and gentle at first, hips rocking against hers. Their mouths crashed together in a sloppy kiss as she raked her nails down his back, the sting on his skin caused desire to lance through him even more and he gave a groan, picking up the pace slightly, her body moving with his from each steady thrust, skin sliding against skin, the soft sounds of sex and groans and whimpers filled the air and half the time Frank was at a loss as to who exactly was making them.

“More…” she begged softly, and he hooked his hand under her knee, wrapping her leg up round his waist allowing him to drive deeper. She gave a loud mewl underneath him as her nails dug further into his shoulders as he moved faster, reading the signs she was giving him, his hips now snapping back and forth with a needy desire, the carnal want he had for this woman consumed him and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Come on baby…” his breath was ragged on her ear as he gently sucked at that spot again, feeling her writhing underneath him. “I got you, let go…”

His breath caught slightly as she tipped her head to press her lips to his, the kiss heated and he swallowed the loud groan she made before her head fell back her hands gripping to his back as if her life depended on it.

“Frankie…I’m…gonna…” she managed to stutter before her mouth once more slackened and her sultry lament made Frank shudder as her body shook underneath him, her leg twitching as he held it tight round his waist. Her heat gripped him, pulsing again and again and he felt the burning deep in the pit of his stomach, the surge of his own orgasm felt like it was rising from his very toes as he drove into her once more.

“Fuck, Lissy…” he mumbled and a guttural rumble erupted from his throat as his hips stuttered slightly before he made another few shallow thrusts before he collapsed forward, burying his head in her neck as the afterglow consumed him.

He had no idea how long passed before he managed to muster enough about himself to raise his head. She still had her eyes closed but there was a satisfied smile playing on her lips, one he couldn’t help but mirror. As he watched her face, the tip of his nose gently resting against hers, her eyelids flickered open and he smiled down at her, gently pressing their foreheads together.

“Ok?”

“Yeah…” her voice was raspy and she swallowed “That was more than ok…” He chuckled as he met her lips in a soft kiss, before he gently rolled off her, laying on his back and reaching down for the duvet which was tangled around their legs. After a short wrestle with it and a bit more giggling they both settled down, Fliss’ head on his chest as he lay on his back, his hand softly carding through her hair.

***** The next few weeks skipped by fairly uneventfully, bar the almost meltdown Mary had when it was revealed to her that she wouldn’t be going back into Bonnie’s class when September rolled around. Frank tried to explain to her that wasn’t how school worked but she was besides herself, declaring she wasn’t going back to school if that was the case, leaving Frank groaning about the possibility of repeat of the scene they had the previous year.

In the end, it was the twins that managed to explain it to her. Steve and his family came over to visit again for 2 weeks in the middle of August and the boys Charlie and Joel spent a lot of time at Fliss and Frank’s for sleepovers, Fliss loved having her nephews to stay and the boys thought Frank was the best person ever when he took them out on a boat he borrowed from work, allowing them each to take a go at sailing. Or being Pirates as they excitedly exclaimed.

One night when they were all sat in the lounge getting ready to settle in for a movie, Frank overheard Charlie telling Mary all about how he was looking forward to moving into the bigger classroom and learning cool news stuff. He could see the cogs whirring in her head and Fliss had smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek, whispering that she’d told him it would all work out in the end. And, thankfully, she was right.

One person who was NOT looking forward to the return of the school year was Bonnie. One Thursday night she called Fliss begging her got on a girl’s night out as she needed to blow off some end of holiday blues. Fliss agreed and arranged to meet up with her on Saturday evening. The weekend rolled round fairly quickly and Fliss was in a good mood when she arrived at work, a few lessons to do before she could head home and start getting ready. She was just heading out to the first one when her phone rang. The number was withheld but that wasn’t uncommon as a lot of people called about lessons in such a way.

“Fliss Gallagher…” she answered. No one spoke in response. “Hello?”

Nothing.

With a shrug she cut the call and replaced it back into her pocket, making her way over to the paddock, when the phone went again. She repeated the process and there was still no one talking on the other side.

“You ok?” Joanne looked at her, as Fliss frowned.

“Yeah, I just had 2 silent calls…” Fliss shrugged

“Probably someone ass-dialling”

“Yeah, maybe…” Fliss said, not voicing where her mind had instantly gone, straight to John. She stuck the phone in her pocket once more and strode into the paddock, greeting her client.

There were no more calls that day, which made Fliss comfortable enough that it wasn’t her ex. If it was and he was playing some stupid game he wouldn’t have stopped. So by the time Mary appeared to do her stable chores and ride Monty she was in fairly good spirits. Fliss decided that they were going to do something a little different on Mary’s lesson today, and she placed a few poles on the floor and had Mary walk Monty over them first, then do them in trot. It wasn’t hard for the pony, and he knew his job but it was different for Mary, making her concentrate fully on where she was going. Frank leaned on the paddock fence watching the pair of them as Fliss walked along side Mary, chatting away to her before she stepped back and allowed Mary to try it on her own. The smile on Mary’s face was all Frank needed to see and he nodded to her as she looked over to him, his hand falling to Thor’s head as the dog had jumped up, leaning his paws on the top of the fence.

“Alright buddy?” he asked, scratching his ears as Thor panted in response, giving a sharp bark at Fliss who turned to look at them, grinning.

One the horses were fed they all made their way home and after dinner Fliss grabbed a glass of wine and headed for a shower and then to get ready. 40 minutes or so later she emerged dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a white off the shoulder top that had large pineapples printed on it and on her feet she wore a pair of gold sandals. To finish the beach-chic look, her auburn hair was pulled back into a messy bun at the nape of her neck and she was wearing a pair of gold hooped earrings along with her Pandora bracelet.

“You look lovely.” Frank smiled at her, and she grinned back. “Ready to go?” “Yeah…” she nodded “Can we pick Bonnie up on our way?”

“Sure.” Frank nodded, turning to Mary “Come on Stack. We’ll swing by for ice cream on our way home.” “Yesss….” Mary gave him a hi-five as they all headed for the door.

It took them about 15 minutes to get to Bonnie’s and Fliss hopped out of the jeep heading up the steps to the small villa. Frank watched her go, quite happy to appreciate her ass in the shorts she was wearing, and smiled as she turned round, Bonnie following her down the steps.

“Hi…” She greeted Frank who nodded to her as she climbed in the back of the jeep. “Hi Mary.” “Hi Miss Stevenson…” “You can call me Bonnie out of school.” The dark-haired woman chuckled.

“I know.” Mary shrugged.

Bonnie hesitated for a moment as Frank and Fliss exchanged a look, the pair of them grinning at Mary’s blasé tone before Frank shook his head.

“Mary…” he chastised her gently.

“What?” she looked at him.

“Just…oh, I dunno, whatever.” he mumbled, setting the car going again. Fliss and Bonnie struck up a gentle conversation about where they were going, Frank not particularly listening to be honest. His right hand absentmindedly dropped to Fliss’ bare thigh, his thumb gently rubbing at her skin and she dropped her left hand on top of his, gently intertwining their fingers.

He was almost disappointed when he pulled up outside Rio’s that she had to let go.

“Have a good time.” he said as she leaned over to give him a quick kiss.

“Will do.” she smiled “See you later Mary.”

“Yeah bye!” Mary said, hopping out of the backseat to take up the vacant front one.

“Ice cream or hot dogs?” Frank looked at her, tearing his eyes away from Fliss as her and Bonnie headed into the bar, already knowing full well what Mary’s answer would be.

“Dur…” she looked at him “I got me a hankering for some Cookies and Cream.” Frank snorted and with a final look at the bar set off towards The Shack.

*****

“Did he just…” Fliss looked at Bonnie, her eyes flicking from the young man in front of her to Bonnie, then back again. They’d had a few drinks at Rio’s, then headed up to another bar a few doors down and had wandered over to see what was going on round a pool table, soon finding themselves watching three younger guys as they were racking the balls up, ready to start a game of killer. By this point they’d had a fair amount of beer and shots, so Bonnie, clearly emboldened by alcohol, had cheekily quipped to the boys that Fliss would kick their arses and one of them, a tall guy with floppy sandy hair had responded with an equally cheeky little smirk and invited the “Grandma” to join them.

“Yeah, he so did…”

“Fucking Grandma…” Fliss glared at him, snatching up a pool cue. “I’ll have you know, kid, I’m 34…not that old…” “You got 13 years on me.” he looked at her.

“Experience…” Bonnie nodded sagely “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” “You offering?” the lad looked at Bonnie who burst out laughing

“Sorry, we’re both taken…” “With each other…” Fliss said, causing Bonnie to snort again into her drink “We’re lesbians.” “Awesome!” the guy grinned, looking Fliss up and down before he arched an eyebrow at her. “I’m Joe by the way.” “Oh, I’m Felicia and this is Linda.” Fliss said, this time causing Bonnie to choke on her gin.

“Nice to meet you…now…” Joe clapped his hands and then everyone around the table looked at him as he began to write their names on the blackboard adding 3 lines after each. The game was simple, you took your shot, if you potted you kept a life, if you missed you lost one. The last person standing was the winner.

“Money in and…”

“Oh, hang on…” Fliss looked around “I didn’t know we were competing for money…”

“You chicken?” One of the lads looked at her.

“No, I just…you know what?” She shrugged, pulling a ten note out of her purse. “Fuck it.”

“You can break.” One of the lads said and she shrugged. Taking up position she hit the ball, deliberately hitting the group of colours in the wrong place ensuring she didn’t pot one. The lads all took a turn each and on her next turn she sank a ball into the pocket, then on her next go she missed again, deliberately.

“Ok,ok…” she said, as the guys started to tease her. “You’re all so confident double up…double the money…” “Whatever…” Joe snorted, pulling another $10 note out of his pocket. Bonnie, grinned and started to play along.

“Felicia,…is that…” “Shut up Linda I got this…” She lined up and took another shot, smashing a ball at the top straight into a pocket. The lads all exchanged a look, shrugging and continued, the game. Fliss continued to nail shot after shot and eventually it came down to her and Joe on the last ball.

“So if I manage this…I win?”

“Yeah…” “Ok, top right…” Joe let out a groan as the ball dropped into the pocket. Fliss straightened up, leaning on the cue smirk on her face as she turned to the boys who were all laughing and shaking their heads.

“Here’s a tip…” she smirked, taking the money “Don’t call people grandma…pleasure doing business boys…”

Bonnie laughed, sliding her phone back into her pocket, as Fliss looped an arm round her shoulders and steered her back to the bar.

“Shots?”

“Yes…” An hour later they were multiple shots down and half way through a crucial game of Fuck, Marry or Kill.

“Ok…” Bonnie looked at Fliss “Fuck, Marry or Kill. All the Chrises…Evans, Hemsworth or Pratt…” “Oh man…” Fliss groaned “I mean…I’d probably kill Pratt. No offence but I couldn’t murder Thor or Cap…I just…no, not possible”

“So…which ones getting the one night treatment and which one is here to stay…”

“If I marry him does that mean I’m fucking him as well?” Bonnie paused “Yeah, I would assume so.”

“Ok, in that case I’d fuck Hemsworth, marry Evans.” Fliss said, shrugging. “Do you not think Frank as a bit of a look of him…in the face?”

“I’ve not thought about it…” Bonnie shrugged, before she grinned “I think you just have a thing for guys from Boston…”

Fliss frowned as Bonnie looked at her, her face dropping. “Shit, Fliss, sorry, I mean Frank…” Fliss couldn’t keep her face straight before she burst out laughing “I know…”

“Bitch!” Bonnie nudged her on the arm and Fliss smirked, picking up another shot.

********

Frank was sprawled on the sofa, channel surfing when he heard his phone go. It was a WhatsApp message from Fliss and he opened it, giving a loud laugh as he saw her holding a shot of tequila, her face screwed up in a huge fake crying gesture.

“Bonnie is making me do shots…”

“Course she is…” he replied “And did Bonnie make you hustle those boys at pool too?” “How do you know about that?” ��It’s on Facebook sweetheart, Bonnie uploaded the photo of you winning. Those poor kids stood no chance” “In my defence they called me grandma…cheeky bastards.”

Frank laughed out loud as he could just see her indignant expression. “Well that’s just fucking rude. How much did you sting em for?” “Sixty…we’ve nearly spent it all

“Sixty bucks…” he mumbled to himself with a snort as he tapped his response “That’s my girl.” “Always…” she replied back, with a winking emoji and he smiled again before dropping the phone back on the coffee table as he stood up to go and grab himself another beer. Simon had already called him to say he would pick them up, which was a relief to Frank as he knew he couldn’t drag Mary out of bed at whatever time they were ready to come back, and he also wasn’t one hundred percent happy about her cabbing back alone. Stupid, he knew that, she was a grown ass woman but still. Thankfully, Simon had been on the same wavelength. With a fresh beer in his hand, he flopped back onto the sofa and resumed his channel hopping, grinning when he found that American Pie was just starting on one of the movie channels. Tossing the remote down he settled back against the cushions to watch the film, Thor jumping up besides him, his head resting against Frank’s thigh.

He had seen this film countless times, but it still reduced him to tears, and Fliss for that matter. He watched, laughing along and the end credits had just started to roll when his phone buzzed again.

“On my way to collect the girls and just a warning, Bonnie sounds smashed.” With a snort he replied “I didn’t expect anything else. Thanks Si.” He stood up and threw his empty beer bottle into the recycling, debating whether or not he wanted another. Deciding he would leave it he started to clear away the remnants of the nachos and popcorn he’d been munching on, gently re-arranged the damned scatter cushions that Fliss had made him buy, which he grudgingly had to admit were actually pretty comfy and then grabbed the recycling box and headed out to toss it into the containers, Thor hot on his heels. Just as he had finished he looked up to see Simon’s Audi pulling up at the road and he made his way over.

“Hiiiii!” Fliss grinned at him as she got out, Thor stopping by her legs and she gave him a quick pet.

“Hey…you have a good time?” Frank asked, as she gave a giggle and nodded.

“Bonnie’s fallen asleep. She can’t handle her alcohol.” she snorted and Frank looked round her to see that Bonnie was, indeed, passed out in the passenger seat.

He shook his head and leaned down to speak to Simon “Thanks pal…”

“No problem.” Simon smiled, before he cast a look at Bonnie and then back to Frank “She said she was tired, not drunk…” “And I’m the Queen of England…” Frank snorted as Simon let out a huff of a laugh.

“Well hello your majesty…” Fliss hiccupped and Frank looked at her, grinning as she winked at him, her eyes glazed.

Simon shook his head and Frank rapped the top of his car twice as he pulled off and headed back up the road.

“Frankie…” Fliss looked at him as he dropped his arm round her shoulder.

“Yes baby?” “I’m hungry.” “Are you gonna stay awake long enough if I throw a pizza in the oven?” “Hey, I’m not like Bonnie, I can handle my tequila…” “Yeah, you say that now.” he grinned “Bet you won’t be tomorrow.”

“It’s Sunday…I can die on the sofa.” she shrugged, heading up the steps into the house. “But now I really need food.” Frank snorted, “Ok, I’ll throw one in. Go get changed.”

“Can you undo the button at the back of my top?” Fliss asked, spinning around. Frank obliged, gently sliding the silver pin shaped tab through the hole at the back of the collar, his hands gently rubbing her bare shoulders as she dropped a kiss to her neck. “Hey, Bonnie made a good point before…” she spun back to face him, he hands smoothing over his chest.

“And what was that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Both of us, as in me and her, have seen you naked.” she grinned, arms connecting round the back of his neck.

“Jesus Christ.” he groaned, his hands falling to her hips.

“And you’ve seen both of us naked…but we’ve never seen each other naked…” Frank looked at her for a moment, “What?” “Me and Bonnie I mean… don’t you think that’s unfair.”

Frank looked at her for a moment, stumped for words before he gave a snort of laughter at her face. She was grinning wickedly at him, mischief shining out of her eyes. “Yeah.” he nodded, seriously, fighting to keep his face straight. “Really unfair. In fact, I think it’s so unfair you should do something about it.” “You’re a pervert.” she narrowed her eyes at him as he laughed and shrugged.

“You started it…” “Technically you did when you fucked her.”

“Ouch…” Frank raised an eyebrow at her as she smirked up at him “Low blow sweetheart”

“I’ll give you a low blow later.”she winked and Frank’s eyebrow arched further up as she pulled his head down to kiss him softly “But first I need proper food…” “Well let go o’me and I’ll make you that pizza.” he reasoned.

With a final smile she kissed him again “Love you sailor.”

“Back at ya cowgirl.” he grinned, watching as she made her way to the bedroom, reasonably steadily as well all things considered, Thor padding along behind her. With a final snort and shake of his head, knowing full well she was going to be hungover to shit the next day, he turned and headed back towards the kitchen to make her something to eat.

**** Chapter 20

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x original female character #frank adler x ofc #gifted #gifted fan fic

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athrialuxegna · 3 years

Text

Stronger than she thinks Part 4

Triggers warning: mental and physical abuse, violence, swearing

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Fanfiction | Archiveofourown | Wattpad

The warm sun rising woke me up. My body felt sore, I have fallen asleep on the roof. My watch indicated that it was 4 a.m. I growled and get up. I needed a shower. My walk back to my apartment was silent, no one was up. I jumped into the bathroom and came out only an hour later. I needed to take care of myself. I dressed nicely in black shorts and a sleeveless top opened in the back, revealing my sports bra. I spent some time doing my hair so that my brown curls would bounce on my shoulders. When I look at my reflection in the glass, I felt fake. My appearance didn't match my inside.

I changed the broken string of my guitar and played for hours. Music kept my demons away. A knock at my door stopped my daydreaming. I put my guitar aside and look at the clock, it was already ten a.m. Time has passed by in a blur. I sighed and opened the door carefully. Harrison was on the other side. He seemed tense, his grey hair outlining his striking blue eyes as well as the dark rings under them.

"Hey, Chris," A small smile grazed his lips.

"Harri' come in," I ushered him, opening the door fully.

He stepped in and sat on the couch as he usually does. We had a sort of father-daughter relationship because of the age gap between us. He neared his fifties as I was going on my twenty-six. I tried to smile in a poor attempt to ease the atmosphere.

"Want something to drink?" I offered.

He declined silently, avoiding my eyes by staring into space. I knew what bothered him. I have kept my rape from him although he could have helped me. Harrison always had my back. Five years of working together had forged a strong bond. I have ruined it by confessing to another person, one of his fellow leaders.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted to process the whole thing before letting anyone know." I apologized, it was no use to beat around the bush.

"Why Eric? I'm not jealous but I'm wondering how it happened to be him." He stated, sincere curiosity twinkling in his eyes.

"Eric cornered me. I had no choice but to tell him." I explained plainly.

"Interesting. I've never seen him so concern. I think taking care of children had rubbed on him after all. It's not a bad thing I guess." He remarked while laughing.

His joyful persona had returned, his bright smile adorning his face. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of Eric becoming soft. I had witnessed this side of the young leader lately, just glimpses that confirmed that he was not as heartless as everyone depicted him.

"I hope he will not be watching me from now on," I replied dryly.

Memories of the night before rushed back to me. Eric's body against mine, his hands on my hips. Our bodies moving in sync to the blasting music. I swallowed thickly. I didn't know how to interact with Eric anymore. We were so close then I broke the spell by singing my feelings before disappearing. It sounded so cheesy although it had been intense.

"I heard you made a show last night. I wish I was here to hear from you." He confessed tenderly.

"Maybe you'll have some other occasion to hear me. I think I need this to get better." I said truthfully.

"You can count on me, you know that Chris. I'm here for you no matter what." He assured, his eyes plunging into mine.

"I know Harri. Thank you."

I sat on the couch next to him and rested my head on his shoulder. Harrison would never hurt me in any way. He was the only man I trusted most in the faction. He had proved more times than I can count that he was reliable on all levels.

"How is it going?" I asked finally.

"Well, we had a meeting early this morning to discuss the situation. The investigation is pretty much finished. All proofs are against Brent. He will be judged within a few days."

"Had Max told you anything about my suspension, yet?"

"No, he might extend it for a few more days to make a point. Don't worry, honey, your job is safe. You know we need you." He smiled down at me.

"You need me because you'll be lost in your papers in no time," I remarked, teasingly.

"Touché!" He exclaimed, putting a hand on his heart.

I couldn't help but laugh at his antics. My face dropped at the knock on my door. I hadn't expected any visitors and now I had two. I excused myself and get up to open the door to... Eric. My surprise was long-short as I heard Harrison coming behind my back.

"Hey, Eric! I was just on my way out." He said with an overly enthusiastic tone. "See you, Chris." He shot at me before making his way into the hallway.

I stood still a second, processing the situation. Eric was staring at me with an unreadable expression. I shifted to the side and made a sign to invite him in. He entered and shut the door behind him. I felt small and ridiculous. I should have known that he wanted an explanation about what happened last night. I didn't even know what to say to ease the awkward tension between us.

"Look, Chris, we danced that's all. We had a good time that's what matters." He stated, his deep voice as cold as ice. "Max wants to see you, that's why I'm here."

I opened my mouth then shut it multiple times like a fish out of water. Stunned by his words. I didn't expect things to go so fast. I wasn't ready to share this horrible night with anyone. Let alone, Max. And I was oddly bothered by the way he acted. The leader's fa��ade returned, crushing my chances to guess what was going on in his mind.

"I'm not ready." I blurted out finally.

Eric turned deadly serious, he crossed his arms over his broad chest, eyes fixated on my own. I couldn't look away, even if I wanted to.

"You have to Christine, that is an order." He said in a dark tone.

I shivered uncontrollably and adverted my eyes to the floor. I hated him for doing that.

"Don't do this ever again. My trust is limited." I huffed in irritation, taking my jacket from the counter kitchen.

"So is mine." He hissed in response, body tensing.

"What's your problem today?" I muttered under my breath while lacing my boots.

"Stop questioning and hurry up." He retorted with an annoyed sigh.

I kept quiet, even when we walked to Max's office. I didn't dare look at Eric. Dread crept upon me as we neared the door's office. I was ready to bolt away, but Eric caught my wrist before I could make a move.

"Don't even think about it." He growled. "You only have to do this once then it's over." His voice strained.

I gulped down the lump in my throat and took a deep breath. Eric opened the door and dragged me inside. I almost lose my footing as I stumbled into the chair in front of Max's messy desk. Mountains of papers and piles of folders covered the wooden furniture. Back straight, head held high, I fought against the urge to puke all over my shoes. I hated to be the center of attention.

"Christine, I'd say it's good to see you if it was under other circumstances." Greeted Max. "I know it's hard for you, but we need your testimony for the investigation. You can take all the time you need." His smooth voice could have eased my nerves if Eric wasn't standing in the corner of the room, gawking like a hawk.

"Hi Max, I agree. It would be better for other reasons." I answered, careful to not let my voice falter. "Hm, it was last Monday night. Brent found me in the Pit. He wanted my help for something, or so I thought at the moment, I don't really remember what it was about... I think he claimed that members were organizing fighting sessions there, making bets and exchanging points or something like that."

It was difficult to walk down memory lane. Images came rushing through my mind, poisoning my every thought. I took a deep breath, eyes fixated on the pen Max was holding. I couldn't look at him while I was picturing Brent right in front of me.

"Anyway, he dragged me in the old quarters to check it out. I didn't know something was off until he pushed me into a dark room. I..." I swallowed thickly. "I didn't have time to react because he hit me behind the head with his gun then he... He began to take my pants off... I... I was too knocked out to fight him. He... He took advantage of me and I couldn't..." My throat got tighter at every word. "I couldn't do anything while he... he raped me. Then, he threatened me, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone or he... He was going to make me factionless."

I didn't see their reactions, I didn't need to. The tension filling the room was enough to know what was crossing their minds. Before any of them could utter a word, I added:

"I don't want anyone to know about this aside from the people already involved. If that's even possible."

"I'm afraid that's not, my dear. Dauntless law demands a vote from all members to establish a punishment. But we can keep your name out of the victims' list if you want to."

I only nodded in response. My nails were digging in the armrest of the chair, my knuckles turning white under the pressure. My heart lumped in my chest when Eric took a step forward. I could see his black combat boots in my peripheral vision.

"Did he use a condom?"

Heat rose in my cheeks and my breath caught up in my throat. I didn't expect that question. I lowered my head a little more to avoid their pointed stares. Recollecting this night was harder than anything that I have ever done. I felt everything all over again. The pain coming from his bites on my skin, his fingers digging in my hips, his pantings in my ear, the pain between my legs as I was begging for him to stop. Brent overwhelmed all my senses. I wasn't in the office anymore but in that dark room with him.

"Chris? Christine?" Eric's voice forced me out of my memories. "Did he use a condom?" He repeated, his voice smoother than silk.

I closed my eyes for a brief second. If he didn't use one, there was a possibility that I was pregnant. How didn't I think about it? When was my last period? Not a clue. My mouth felt dry.

"I honestly don't know," I whispered in disbelief.

"You should go see Marlene check this out, it's better to do it sooner than later." Advised Max. "We'll announce Brent's trial tonight, the vote will be held in five days from now on. You're suspended until the end of the week."

My head shot up instantly. Harrison told me that he would extend my suspension, but it still hurt. I loved my job because I felt useful, purposeful. I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest to prevent both men from seeing them shaking.

"Look, I know this is about me beating the shit out of Brent. I won't apologize because he deserved it, but I'm sorry for breaking the rules of 'no fighting outside rings'. I get it, I messed up and it's not tolerable for someone close to leadership but give me some lack. I've never broken any rule before, I've been obedient and followed orders my whole life, you can't do this to me. I need my job, Max, please." My voice wavered at the end.

Max get up and walked around his desk, hands clasped behind his back. He spared a long look at Eric who nodded in response. Their silent conversation put me on edge. I should have shut it. I just proved that I was unstable. Great move, dumbass. Max stand right in front of me, careful to keep a decent distance between us. His sympathetic look gave me the urge to slap him across the face. I didn't need his pity, but I needed my job to keep me from going insane. If I didn't have anything to focus on, I might lose my mind and do something really stupid.

"It is not really a suspension as you understand it." His thin lips stretched into a comforting smile. "Think of it as vacations. You need to recover and take care of yourself first, Chris. My decision is not to be discussed."

I huffed in response but didn't push any further, Max was not someone to disagree with. I stole a glance at Eric. He nodded slightly his head as to ushered me to keep a low profile. Well, at least someone was on my side. One that I would not have imagined.

"So, what am I supposed to do until then a part of taking care of me?"

"I've heard that the Child Care Service needed someone from time to time to watch the kids."

"I'll think about it," I answered while looking at Eric, an eyebrow raised in question. "If that's all, am I free to go?" I asked, already out of the chair.

Max dismissed me by pointing the door with his head with a small smile. I turned on my heels before doing or saying something I might regret. One question lingered in my head, did Eric asked for me to work at the Child Care Service, or was it, Max?

#ericxoc #ericcoulter #eric coulter #eric divergent #divergent #divergentfanfiction #fanfiction #four #max

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livinghostly · 4 years

Text

one missing firefly

theo raeken x reader

not my gif!

words: 2900

request/summary: even with the newest threat to beacon hills, the reader is hesitant to accept theo's help. to her misfortune, scott sends them out together to take back something stolen. as usual, the plan falls through.

warning: fighting, blood

a/n: i still write for my favorite apathetic bastard <3 i'm not sure how many parts this'll have

[...]

"are you sure they have it?" stiles probed, one arm crossed over his chest and the other picking at his lips. "like, 100%? you didn't just lose it in one of your many, many cross country trips fleeing from law enforcement?"

exasperated sighs echoed from around the room, drawing an offended expression on to his face. it was dark outside and the pack's tiredness had escalated to shared frustration, being woken up or pulled out of their plans at 12 a.m. with a sudden house call from scott.

you stood over the kitchen table with both hands on the wood, pushing your tongue against the inside of your cheek. you rocked on your heels, looking up at the rest of the pack, and other additions.

scott was standing on the other side of the table, listening intently to the conversation. he met your gaze and shrugged, as if asking you to stay and listen a little longer.

derek closed his eyes and clenched his jaw in annoyance. "yes, i'm sure. before they broke in, it was there. now, it's not."

a new round of hunters had infiltrated beacon hills after more mysterious news coverage had spread outside of the town's close quarters. they were more of exterminators, they had no code, no ethics. they wanted to eradicate every last living supernatural creature, despite the clean history they may have.

hours ago they had broken into derek's loft, and if he'd chosen to fight instead of run he wouldn't have made it out. when he returned, it was ransacked. they were looking for something, and they found it.

the container of nemeton wood, which held the nogitsune.

"why would– why would they take it?" liam asked, he was standing in the doorway next to stiles, who nodded along. "if it's supernatural and they have it, isn't that good? they'll keep it contained."

you licked your lips, "it's leverage. and if they're desperate they could set it free, into a new host.

"i don't doubt that void will have a vendetta for us," lydia spoke up. "we put that thing in a box for over two years to rot after ruining his game. if they let him go, he'll come back. and he'll tear us apart."

silence settled over the room, your pack members shifted their gazes fo the floor to cope with the tension that filled the space. stiles looked the most ruffled, messing with his fingers whilst deep in thought.

"you okay?" your voice broke through the air, barely above a whisper but it caught everyone's attention. their heads snapped up to you, and then followed to stiles.

he sighed. "i'm not all that enthusiastic of the spirit that once possessed me coming back with a vengeance."

malia nodded, crossing her arms. "then, we stop them. we know where they're staying, we go in, and we get it."

"yeah," scott said in confidence, but the expression on his face was uncertain. too long of silence passed until he continued. "we'll figure out a way. me, and derek."

they were the strongest, you knew it was what he was getting at. and he was right, out of all of you, a true alpha and an evolved werewolf were the ones who would have the best chance at bringing down a pack of hunters– maybe liam, too.

but this wasn't a fight on neutral ground, it would be on their turf.

"not to step on your toes, scott, but that's a terrible idea," you said, straightening your posture. he raised his eyebrows, surprised, and multiple heads turned to you in question. "it's a hunter's den. it'll be lined with mountain ash, you won't get past the welcome mat and you'll kill yourself trying."

"so, what are you saying?" he shrugged.

you swallowed, but stated strongly, "i'm saying i'll go."

you didn't have claws or amplified abilities, and you didn't need them. you had enough experience with weaponry and hand-to-hand to defend yourself, he knew that. you knew the thought process of a hunter, what to look for and how to look over your shoulder as second nature. derek helped you fight like a werewolf– in addition to the years of supernatural encounters riding on your back, you were enough.

but scott seemed to have his own internal conflict. he looked past you, his eyes fixated on something. silently begging, you could tell, as he drew his eyebrows together and tilted his head to the side.

you looked over your shoulder and spotted theo, strewn over the couch with apathy. he was so quiet you'd almost forgotten he was there, mostly observing the pack meeting. he rarely said anything unless he was directly involved in the discussion or there was a sly remark aimed at him. and when he did open his mouth, he was shut down by malia or stiles.

he raised his eyebrows, seemingly bored. he met your gaze.

widening your eyes, you turned to scott. "no."

"y/n, you can't go alone. you need someone that can fight and go through mountain ash."

"then, i'll go with–" you searched around the room, and gestured to the boy in the doorway. "stiles. he has a bat."

"that's not exactly inconspicuous," scott chuckled weakly.

"i don't need inconspicuous, i'm not ringing the doorbell!"

"i'll go," theo spoke up, breaking the staring contest you held with scott. his voice drew the room to a silence, and the pack point their eyes to him, but you refused to turn around and look at him again.

you heard the couch shift beneath his weight, and then he brought himself to his feet. your gaze flickered to malia, who's nostrils flared in silent defiance as he stepped closer to you.

"i don't need you to go," you growled.

"i don't see any other volunteers." he glanced around the room, your pack members averted their eyes shamefully. but no one spoke up.

you couldn't blame them, the hunters were terrifying and all of you– even stiles –had been at the barrel of their guns at least once. they were worse than the argents are the calaveras ever were.

but you were unmoved by his words, and turned around to face him with a cold expression.

scott sighed. "he's right. and we can trust him."

"until he stabs us in the back, again," stiles spoke up. "or sticks his claws into someone's chest, again. probably yours, scott. again."

"i've done a lot for this pack," theo said, raising his eyebrows as he looked around the room. "and i'm not even in it. i'm here to help you guys."

"you're here because you don't want to be put back into the ground," you shot back, narrowing your gaze. he looked to you, annoyed with your disapproval.

the pack began to bicker back and forth, forming sides. aggression began to seep out of everyone, it was written on their faces. the majority of the pack trusted theo, whilst you, malia and stiles didn't even want him in the room.

as argumentative as theo was, he wasn't saying anything. he kept his arms crossed, listening to the chaos unfold as everyone vouched for their own solution.

there was only one person who could make the final vote.

"enough!" scott demanded in a shout, his voice becoming distorted with a low growl slipping through. all eyes turned to him as he heaved, and after a few seconds passed, his voice became soft again. "theo is going with you. both of you are safer that way."

you adjusted your jaw, resisting the urge to argue further. a sigh passed through your lips. "fine."

two p.m. is when you decided that it would be the path of least resistance to get in and out. they spent most of the days away from home, slithering through the town, watching and waiting for someone to slip up and reveal their true colors.

they'd been asking around, feigning as journalists or investigators to the townspeople to get leads on some of the creatures. at night, they would hunt or go back home to sleep, depending on the progress they made that day.

you stepped carefully through the woods, keeping on the trails and avoiding any sticks or leaves that could break under your feet. theo, a few feet behind you, wasn't so careful. his footsteps were heavy and racked up the dirt beneath them.

"you've never dealt with real hunters, have you?" you asked aloud. when the anuk-ite had infested beacon hills it turned everyone into killers, not hunters. they were inexperienced and trigger happy, but that wasn't the case now.

he stiffened, the weight of his heels digging into the leaves and drawing a crunch. he continued walking, keeping his head to the ground as he stepped around the loud obstacles. you smirked to yourself.

"not exactly," he responded.

an awkward silence filled the air, flowing between you constantly. you tried to shove off that feeling, as well as the hyperawareness you had to his presence, and kept your eyes peeled for any sudden movements or traps as you approached the property.

suddenly, you stopped in your tracks. theo kept walking until he was nearly against your back, following your gaze steadily. over the hill was the house, seemingly abandoned, it looked like it hadn't been touched in years.

licking your lips, you turned to him. "can you hear anything? a heartbeat?"

theo swallowed, and looked to the side as he focused. his jaw clenched as he strained to hear. "no, nobody's home."

"this is a good start," you breathed, continuing your trek up to the property. you circled around to the back of the house, theo following your every step.

suddenly, he spoke up. "i don't know much about this plan."

"get in, get the triskele box, and get out."

"it can't be that simple, it never is."

you rolled your lips back into your mouth, walking up to the back patio. it was covered in dust and the boards of wood looked as if they were ready to snap in half at too sudden of weight.

he huffed at your silence and continued, "what if something goes wrong?"

"what if you just trust me?" you countered, stopping at the door. you cast a glance over your shoulder and placed a hand on the doorknob.

"you would have to trust me first."

you frowned, and pushed open the door carefully. it lead into a kitchen, where the majority of the space on the countertops were coated with dust and cobwebs. there was a leather holster laid out, numerous knives missing, and the others that were left had been wiped clean of blood with a red-stained rag thrown to the side.

the windows were boarded up on the outside, creating a darkness over the room. you could still see, but it was difficult.

there was ruined furniture around covered in plastic wrap and shards of glass on the floor swept to the wall out of the walkway.

"this place doesn't feel too welcoming," theo whispered, his voice alerting you how close he was, practically stepping on your heels.

you opened one of the cabinets, searching for it, but there were only broken or stained plates left. "go upstairs. i'll check down here." you turned and met his eyes, he was reluctant to leave. "and if you find it, don't open it."

he raised his eyebrows. "i'd appreciate it if you had a little more faith in me."

before the conversation could continue, he followed your orders and turned around towards the living room. when he walked, he nearly dragged his feet across the ground and let his weight sink into the floorboards. painstakingly loud, without the belief that there was a reason to be quiet.

each cabinet you opened only left you more frustrated, finding nothing more than bugs and abandoned silverware. after you deserted that idea, you turned to the living room.

you peaked into the fire place first, finding a collection of guns hidden away inconspicuously. but no box. you rolled your eyes at the armory and turned towards the other side of the room, your gaze falling to the couches. they looked scratchy and the cushions sank after being sat in too many times. there was something about it.

tilting your head, you walked behind it, and then bent down to the floor. you curled your hands underneath the bottom of the couch and lifted with a strained groan. not wanting to be loud, you gently set it down, now on it's flipped side.

"i don’t see anything up here!" theo called down, you could hear his footsteps coming towards the stairwell.

you knelt down, your eyes falling to a poorly reattached seem. it was holding something inside, heavy enough to create a dip. "it's okay, i think i found something."

he waltzed down the stairs, raising his eyebrows with surprise upon spotting you. he came closer, pausing in his tracks for a moment as you unsheathed a pocket knife, and then tiptoed for your side.

theo bent down as you were, his eyes on focused on you as you dragged the knife down the material of the couch. you were curious, your features contorting with concentration as the fluff began to sprout from the couch.

you dropped the knife to the floor and dug your hand in, searching blindly. you tried to hold back your wince as something sharp dragged along your skin, but he caught the expression.

"what? you okay?" he leaned forward, one hand on the ground to steady himself.

you nodded, "yeah, i just–" you stopped yourself as your fingers wrapped around the edge of a cylinder. it was rough against your flesh, and heavy as you began to pull it out.

you set it in your lap with narrowed eyebrows, you hadn't seen it in a long time. the wooden container decorated with a symbol– the triskele. you ran your thumb gently over it.

"that's it, right?"

"yeah," you met his gaze. he was ready to stand up and leave just the way you came, his eyes flickering from the box to your face.

"okay, then let's go."

you nodded, pulling your wounded hand into a fist.

he gently placed his hand on your wrist, turning it over and pulling at your fingers to expose the palm of your hand. fresh blood was slowly pooling, it had dripped on to the floor and stained the couch fluff. "you're bleeding."

sighing, you pulled it from his grasp. "it's not that bad." you brought yourself to your feet again and he mimicked your actions. "i'll fix it when we get back to scott's."

a new voice broke through the air. "i- i don't think i can let you do that."

you nearly jumped and looked past theo to the archway of the kitchen. he turned as well, spotting a boy only a few years younger than you holding a shotgun in his hands.

theo reacted before you had time to. he jumped towards the kid and grabbed the barrel of the gun and lifting it into the air as a shot rang out. he snarled, shining his yellow eyes and he pushed the boy further into the kitchen.

loosening your grip on the container, you leaned down and swiped your pocket knife on the ground. you set the box on one of the tables and pursued the boys in the kitchen, walking in on theo being thrown to the fridge, creating a large dent.

the unnamed boy turned to face you, raising his weapon into the air, and you ducked. he shot at nothing and you charged at his torso, pushing him to the ground. the shotgun clattered next to you, and you held your knife to his throat.

as you looked at him, your stance faltered. he couldn't be any older than fourteen, but he was strong. he had fear in his eyes, panic piercing into yours.

in your moment of weakness, he took his chance and punched you in the jaw. you leaned back and held the point of impact, allowing him to shove you off and to the floor. he picked up his shotgun again, and aimed it at you.

"okay, wait! wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" theo shouted, one hand on the counter to steady himself as he nearly stood over you. there was blood seeping from her corner of his mouth, as well as his stomach. "she's not like me, okay? she's human."

the boy was unmoved, keeping his stance and watching you prop yourself up on your forearms.

theo continued, "we'll leave the container, and we can go. but if you shoot her, i'll rip your throat out."

"no," the hunter said, his lip twitched. "they wouldn't like it if i let you go."

he turned the shotgun around, facing the butt of it towards you. for a moment, you found yourself confused thinking his actions betrayed his words. but then, he raised it further up before bringing it back down against your forehead.

#theo raeken #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken fic #reader x theo raeken #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fic #spleen writes

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jord-w-bush · 3 years

Text

Turn Off the Dark: Chapter 3

Hey y'all! Here's Chapter 3 of Turn of the Dark! I promise that Josie and Peter aren't going to be at odds much longer. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Josie readjusted her grip on the cake pan in her arms and opened the front door to her parent’s home. She could hear her father and brothers shouting at some game on the TV in the living room, and the faint sound of pots and pans being moved around from the kitchen.

“Hey! I’m here!” She called out to whoever was listening. The clamor in the house dulled for a moment, and she heard her mom call her into the kitchen.

She slipped off her shoes and headed toward the back of the house. As she passed the living room, she poked her head in and smiled at her dad and two brothers. Her smile faltered slightly when she saw the back of Peter Parker’s head sitting on the floor in front of the TV. He had never responded to her text, which she really hadn’t expected him to, so she was more than surprised to see him sat among her family. Before she had a chance to turn her gaze away, he turned around and made eye contact with her. He gave her a half-hearted smile and wave, before turning back to face forward.

Her younger brother Greyson jumped up from the couch and threw his arms around her. Even though he was two and a half years younger than her, he stood almost a foot taller than her at six feet four inches tall. He had gotten his height from his father. In fact, all three of the Butler boys were taller than six feet. Greyson just happened to be the tallest. Josie grinned at her brother and pinched his cheek-which she knew he hated.

“Hi, bubby! How’s everything out west?” Her brother rolled his eyes at his childhood nickname and shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s fine, I guess. Not nearly as exciting as here. But I mean, we knew that” He replied. Greyson was in his first year at Arizona State University on a basketball scholarship studying forensic science. Before he passed, Greyson had looked up to Captain Stacy, Gwen’s father and the chief of police in New York City. He inspired Greyson to pursue a degree in investigation. He was back in town visiting his family over his spring break. They missed him, but Josie knew that he was on the right path.

“I’m glad you don’t hate it, though. That would make me big sad for my little bro.” Josie ruffled his hair and he swatted her hand away. They playfully shoved each other for a bit before Josie’s mother called her name from the back of the house.

Shaking her head, Josie continued her journey to the kitchen. “There you are! I was starting to wonder if you had gotten lost on the way from the front door!” Her mother exclaimed pulling her into a hug. Josie smiled widely. Josie and her mother had always been incredibly close, even when she had been younger. She strove to always make her mom proud, and become an incredible woman like her.

“I brought a chocolate cake! I had some extra time on my hands today, so the frosting is homemade too!” Josie glanced proudly at the dish in her hands before placing it on the empty counter. She then turned her attention to the other woman occupying the kitchen and rushed over to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “It’s so good to see you, Aunt May! I’m sorry I didn’t stop by the last time I was over, I ended up getting caught up with my mom and had to rush to the show!”

May Parker pulled away from Josie slightly, and held the young girl’s face in her hands, “Oh, it’s nothing to worry about now, dear. I’m so happy to see you. I’ve probably watched your performance on Good Morning America one hundred times by now. I am so proud of you!”

Josie smiled and followed her mom and Aunt May over to the kitchen table. Her mother poured her a glass of water and the three women began to catch up on their lives and enjoy each other’s company.

“Josie, I would love to come out and see your show soon! Any idea how much longer it’s going to run?” Aunt May eventually asked, turning to her surrogate niece with a smile.

“I’m not sure! We haven’t heard anything about it closing any time soon, so I hope we’re open for the foreseeable future. Do you want tickets? I’d be happy to get you one.” Josie replied. She hadn’t wanted to pressure the Parker matriarch into coming out to Manhattan alone to see her show, since she assumed Peter had little to no interest in coming out to support her as well.

“Of course! Peter and I would be happy to cheer you on! If your TV appearance was any indication, this is a show we won’t want to miss!” Aunt May smiled proudly at Josie, and Mrs. Butler chimed in.

“It really is something so special, May! Josephine truly is spectacular in this role. I’m sure you will absolutely love it!” Josie smiled at both women. Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the kitchen timer going off, signaling that dinner was ready to be served. Josie felt her heart rate increase slightly, because she knew that once dinner was on the table she’d have to sit awkwardly in the same place with Peter. And she hated feeling awkward. Marian called to the men in the living room that it was time to eat, while May and Josie set the table.

The Butler men and Peter filed into the dining room and sat at their respective seats at the table. Ever since they had moved to New York, when they’d have the Parkers over for dinner, everyone sat in the same place every time. Sam at the head of the table with his wife to his right and his oldest son to his left. Josie always sat next to her mother, with her youngest brother beside her. Peter sat across from Josie next to his Aunt, and when he was alive, Ben Parker sat at the opposite head of the table furthest from Sam. Sam led the group in a quick blessing over the food, and then everyone dug in.

“Sweetheart, this pasta is so so good! Is this a new recipe?” Sam asked his wife. Marian nodded her head, and then there was silence again as people enjoyed their meals and allowed it time to digest. Eventually, May cleared her throat and turned to her nephew.

“Peter, honey, Josie offered to get us tickets to her show! Isn’t that so sweet of her?” Peter nodded slightly.

“Yeah, that’s uh, that’s great Aunt May.” He said without making eye contact with her.

Josie had a feeling that only one of those tickets would end up being used, but she held out hope that maybe she would be wrong.

Once everyone had finished eating their dinner, Marian served the cake Josie had brought over. She had only taken one bite before her father blurted out:

“So, did you guys hear Spider-Man saved Josie the other night?” She choked on the cake she had in her mouth, and everyone but her mother’s eyes grew wide in surprise. Josie looked down in embarrassment.

“Really?? Cool!” Tyler said. He was always excited to hear about Spider-Man. “What happened?” he asked.

She cleared her throat and set down her fork. She retold the story of her recent mugging attempt, and noticed Peter shift uncomfortably at the mention of Spider-Man’s heroics.

“Something wrong, Pete?” she asked him.

He shook his head quickly, “No. No. Just, ya know, I can’t imagine how scary that must have been for you.”

“Yeah, it was pretty wild. You know what’s funny, in the moment, I couldn’t think of anything else but how scared I was. But later? All I could think about was how great of a picture it would have been. Him up on that dumpster with the light from the street lamps on him. The pictures you take of him are always super impressive, Peter. I feel like you could really make some major money with those. Probably more than the Bugle pays you.” Josie laughed slightly at her father’s expense. He chuckled back and looked at Peter.

Peter mumbled a quiet thanks, which she wouldn’t have even caught if she hadn’t been looking at him. Josie scoffed lightly, and hummed softly, “Yeah no problem.” She stabbed at her slice of cake on her plate and shoved a bite into her mouth.

Everyone at the table awkwardly looked between the two “ex-best friends”, unsure of how to move on with the conversation. The silence only lasted a few seconds longer before Josie stood up suddenly.

“You know what? I don’t have to deal with this. I’m sorry Aunt May. I’ll try to stop by tomorrow morning after he leaves for the day to talk with you about the tickets. I need some air.” She glared at Peter, before pushing her chair back in and stomping toward the back yard. She grabbed a blanket from the shelf beside the door before slamming the door shut behind her, and plopping down into the porch swing.

May looked at Peter with a disapproving gaze, before standing up and offering to help Marian with the dishes. Peter also stood up quickly and without a word, marched out the front door and to his own house. The two women looked at each other.

“I’m so sorry about this Marian. I don’t know what’s gotten into him today. I knew that they hadn’t spoken in a while but I wasn’t aware that they were…angry with each other.” May excused herself apologetically and followed her nephew out the door.

After the door had closed behind her, the tense energy between the pair still hung in the air.

“What the heck just happened?” Sam asked to no one in particular.

Marian threw down the dishtowel that was hanging on her shoulder to the counter with determination. “I’m not sure,” she said, “but I’m sure as hell about to find out.”

#the amazing spiderman #andrew garfield #peter parker #fanficiton #peter parker x oc #oc #marvel #spider man #spiderman #tasm #amazing spider man

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fleetwoodmak99 · 3 years

Text

Primed for Sin (4/10)

SUMMARY: Arthur tries figuring out what to do while Elena does her own investigation on who the clown was. Finding the journal was a step in the right direction. Elena confronts Arthur on what he has been doing.

WARNINGS: Stalking, taking photos without permission, bad writing lol.

I’m so sorry this part took a little bit for me to get out. I've been dealing with a lot of shit emotionally and just can't seem to get in the zone. This definitely helped me through it so I'm really thankful. Don’t worry, smut is on the way. I know this is starting to get long but it just so fun to write about this guy.

Part 3

Elena paced around the living room. She didn't even know where to start about what had happened the previous night. It kind of felt like it didn't even happen, like it was all one big horrible dream.

Luckily she was able to occupy Michael with his favorite plate of spaghetti and cartoons while she tried processing her emotions.

She knew she should have called the police. She should be putting him in jail for what had happened but she couldn’t bring herself to do so.

The men who surrounded her the night before would have probably done much worse if the clown hadn't been there. Yet she shivered every time she thought of him.

She was even more surprised when she found the journal that belonged to Arthur. The man had seemed so sweet. She never thought he would be capable of such things.

Yet here she was, looking at the mans journal. She needed answers as to why he was there and who he really was. It couldn't have been a coincidence for the clown to have shown up at the right time.

Opening the first few pages, it seemed like a normal journal. Some drawings here, some jokes there. Nothing too out of the ordinary. It wasn’t until she got into the thick of it that things started to come to light.

He talked about being in pain all the time. That he wanted to snap. She couldn't help but feel bad for the man but it soon dissipated when she soon saw the drawings of naked women. She guessed every guy had fantasies like that. She just didn't expect to be apart of them.

Going through the pages, she felt her privacy grow smaller and smaller. Photos of her at work, picking up food, playing with Michael and the one that shocked her the most was one of her in bed wearing barely anything with her hands between her legs.

Reading the text, he would describe performing very specific sexual acts on her that she didn't even know was a thing. Not that she had much experience, but she certain had no idea a person could have such a dirty mind.

As she hate to admit, she almost felt excitement from it. It made her feel special to have someone want her so badly in this kind of way. Of course she didn't expect for it to be in this sort of way but she honestly didn't feel as angry or upset about it as she probably should be. Thankful that he had shown up when he did but there was a small part of her that didn't ask for this and just wanted things to go back to normal.

Eventually the cartoon ended and Michael once again was wanting to play with his big sister. She had to suppress what she was feeling for now but she knew eventually she would have to confront Arthur.

______________________________________________________________

Arthur too seemed to be having a difficult time processing what had happened last night. He sat on the couch with a lit cigarette in hand, he could feel the burning sensation as the smoke grew in his lungs.

How could have he been so stupid? He thought to himself. Leaving his journal there was just about the foolish thing he could have done. The good news was he hadn't been arrested yet meaning she hadn't told anyone. Maybe she didn't know it was him.

Arthur had to admit that it felt good to put those rich Wayne dicks in their place. They had touched her, they were the ones who crossed the line. Yes, he wished it didn’t end the way it did but it was a good thing those assholes are off the streets.

He had watched the new stations to see if there were any reports on it and wasn’t surprised when he saw the local station all over it. They would describe the men as heroes, describing the scene as a blood bath. Lucky they still didn’t have any leads.

He could feel his anger grow but it was slightly put to rest when he heard a gentle knock at the door. He gave a quick glance over at his mother who was passed out cold in her usual spot on the love seat. She must of not heard anything because she continued to breath softly with her eyes shut.

Arthur got up and quickly came to the door, moving multiple locks and swung it open. He came to meet the weary brown eyes of none other than his sweet girl Elena.

She must of not expected him to be dressed in nothing but light blue pants and socks because she pause for a moment. She began looking him up and down, taking in deep breaths before opening her mouth.

"Umm, can we talk?" She said, trying to sound stern but nothing came through but a shaky voice.

Arthur stood there, not knowing what to do exactly. He didn't expect her to just show up and demand to talk to him. How did she even know which apartment was his? He stared at her while he tried to gather his words. He knew what was probably going to come.

"O-of c-course." He forced out as he moved to the side to let her in. She kept her head down as she walked past him. Arthur closed the door behind her, watching her every move as she started to examine the apartment, stopping when she saw his sleeping mother.

"Oh." She whispered, "I didn't realize we would have company. I thought you lived alone." She turned to him as he started to push his hand through his hair, looking down at the floor in embarrassment.

"I-its only temporary. S-she's very s-sick a-and needs a lot of care for right now." He shook his head back and forth, not wanting to seem like some sort of fuck up. He could feel his throat starting to tense up as laughter threatened to break through. “I-I’m s-s-sorry.”

Even he didn’t know why he was apologizing but he just felt so terrible, he felt like he needed to make it up to her. He looked up at her when she let out a big sigh. She looked so heavenly with her glossy eyes looking at him so innocent like.

“Arthur, you don’t need to be afraid of me. I would never judge you.” She offered him a gentle smile. He didn’t know if she was joking or not. Why was she acting so kind towards him? His hope raised when he thought this thing could actually working out. It came crashing down when she continued to speak, pulling out his brown journal, placing it on the kitchen counter. “But we need to talk about this.”

Arthur closed his eyes, not wanting to go down this road with her but he knew he didn’t have a choice. So with a groan, Arthur sat down at the kitchen table. He hoped it was far enough away so they wouldn’t wake up his mother. Elena hesitated but followed Arthurs movements, joining him at the table.

Arthur grabbed a cigarette from the small cardboard box and sparked it up. He slowly took a drag of it before offering it her. He cautiously watched her as she hesitantly took it and brought it to her lips, taking a big inhale. He could tell she was nervous too. She would keep playing with her hands and her leg hadn’t stopped twitching since she had arrived.

He opened his mouth, “What do you wanna know sweetheart?” Her eyes focused in on his as she breathed the smoke out. She wasn’t used to being called sweetheart. It made her feel giddy inside like a teenager at prom.

She handed Arthur the cigarette before speaking. “Well to start, I wanna know what exactly these are.” Arthur watched as she opened up the journal to reveal the multiple photos of hers in various places. She held one up to him. “Did you take this?”

Arthur licked his lip as he searched for the right thing to say. He took a quick drag of the cigarette to give him more time, never leaving her eyes. “Yes, I did.”

Elena crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair, shaking her head in disbelief. “W-Why?” She looked so scared. He hated that he made her feel that way.

He took another drag of the cigarette before passing it to her once again. This time she didn’t seem that interested. Arthur let out some air before speaking to her in a defeated tone. “I-I never wanted to hurt you. I-I just don’t want to be so alone anymore. I want to be close to someone. Y-you’re so perfect.”

It honestly scared him to be so raw with her. She could easily shut him down but to his surprise she didn’t. She just stared at him, not really knowing what to say. She could honestly understand the aching desire to be needed by someone else. That didn’t make it excusable.

She decided it wasn’t time to turn soft. She needed to know everything. “How did you get those photos, Arthur?”

He took another hit of the cigarette. “I think you already know how.”

"By following me, right? How long has this been going on?” He could hear the anger in her voice. This isn’t good.

“I-I started after we first meet." He watched her eyes grow big.

That long? It had only been a few days but that didn't mean it push major boundaries for her.

"And last night?" Her eyebrows raised as she spoke. Swallowing hard she continues, “Was that you? Did you kill those men?”

She could feel herself starting to tremble just thinking of the events that occurred the night before. How could she have gotten into this mess with a complete stranger. They never even went on their first date. She began to doubt they would ever have a normal relationship. Well, if they would ever have one after all this.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Arthur started to ramble, “Y-yes I-I did.” He tried to study her expressions but her face didn’t change from the look of intimidation so he continued to try and make things right.

“They had their hands all over you. T-they w-would have hurt you. “ This time his voice started to get stronger and became more dominate. “If I-I wasn’t there, I don’t even want to know what they would have done to you.”

She knew he was right. Honestly, she probably would have ended up much worse. Elena looked down in shame. Once again, she was speechless.

“I-I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want.” Arthur spoke softly, not wanting to do any more damage.

Elena closed her eyes and shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak but only a few sounds came out. “I-I don’t know what I want.”

Elena was so confused. She couldn’t even understand all she was feeling but she knew it was a mix of fear, excitement and confusion.

Fear, because the man clearly had pent up anger that could be unleashed on anyone but who didn’t in this city.

Excitement, because she never really had someone who was this interested in her. Normally, men get turned off by single women who have certain responsibilities involving children in the 70′s. She could tell Arthur was different.

“I-I promise. I’ll do anything to make you feel better.” He wanted to reach out his hand to her. She looked so sad and confused. He just wanted to console her, tell her everything was going to be ok.

“I-I” She stuttered, not knowing how to get the words out. “I just need some time Arthur. This is a lot for me to handle.” Water started to pool up in her eyes.

It hit Arthur like a bus but at the same time he understood. He didn’t want to see her upset and he certainly didn’t want to give her space. He knew if it meant they would be together down the road than he was going to do whatever it took.

He simply stated, “I understand.”

Her eyes stayed locked on his, "No following. I need to be completely alone." She felt like she was going to burst into tears at any moment but she held herself together.

"Of course. D-do y-you know how long?" He wondered how long he would last before he would feel the need to follow her again in order to keep her safe of course.

She shook her head, looking down at the floor. "I don't know. A few days."

Ok, he can work with that. For now at least. Maybe this was a good thing. They could both focus on what they wanted but Arthur already knew what he wanted. He felt like she was already his. They belonged together, he just had to give her some space so she could see that.

With that he took one last hit of the cigarette before putting it out. Releasing a sharp breath, he stood up and offered her a hand. She looked uncertain if she could take it or not.

"Don't worry. I-I'll do as you say my love. Just know I'm one call away. I'll be here when you are ready." His voice was as soft as an angel. She wanted to believe him but she knew she would be looking behind her back everywhere she turned the next few days but she had to at least try to trust him.

Deciding not to dwell on it anymore, she offered him a fake smile and took his hand. He could tell it was fake but didn't say anything.

He was spot on when he wrote in his journal about how soft and small her hands would be wrapped around his. His hands were monsters compared to hers. He gave it a gentle squeeze and started to pull her towards the door. Honestly, he was taking this really well. She had no idea what to expect when she first walked in but this wasn't bad.

He opened it and letting her through, never let go of her hand as she turned around now on the outside of the apartment. He gently placed his other hand on her cheek, forcing her to look into his eyes. He was hesitant to make such a bold move but he just couldn't help himself.

He watched her reaction then gently began rubbing her cheek when she didn't protest. He could tell she was a little nervous. She was breathing heavily and placed her shaking hand on his bare chest. She probably never been touched like this. He slowly moved his face closer to her, closing the gap between their lips.

He stayed there for a moment. Connecting his lips with hers was almost intoxicating. He was scared if he moved his legs would give out. Elena must have felt the same way when she leaned into the kiss, not really being able to fight against him. Still, she didn't push him away after everything that had happened.

He gently released her from his grasp, allowing her to stand on her own. Her mouth slightly parted in shock as to what just happened yet still she found no words.

With a sinful smile, he repeated the same words that she had said to him when they first meet. "I'll be waiting for your call Elena. Have a good night."

He gave her a peck on the forehead before closing the door behind him. He's not gonna lie, he had no idea how he got away with that but it just went to further show that she was made for him and him only. He knew this, now he just had to wait.

#arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck #joker #joker 2019

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doflamingadonquixote · 4 years

Text

An Almost Perfect Life - 3/?

Summary: You are a young career woman at one of the bank in London and, at the same time, attending a PhD in Statistics. Your life was perfect until your apartment was invaded by two demons.

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Fem!Reader x Claude Faustus

Previous Chap: Page 1 , Page 2

III. No place to hide

Finally Monday came. You couldn't believe your enormous luck. You could go out again, you were finally free from that unusual prison.

Still dressed in heavy pajamas, you stood by the window and watched the raindrops attack the glass. It was a gloomy day, but that wouldn’t have affected your cheerful and carefree mood.

“Young lady, breakfast is ready.”

You turned to look at Claude in the doorway and found him with a confused look. You had become accustomed to their constant presence but certainly, not yet in their ways.

“Still have to change?” he murmured as he approached your wardrobe. “I would have assumed that you were ready to set foot out of here even earlier than necessary.”

He pulled out a dark green skirt and one of the shirts you had attached to the crutches and laid them on the bed.

Then, as you watched him distractedly, you noticed that he was approaching the underwear drawer and blushed with a deep red tomato.

Sure you wouldn't reach him in time, you took the brush on the windowsill and pulled it against him.

The object circled for a few moments in the air but the demon, warning it to arrive, moved away at the last second and turned even more confused than when he entered.

“What the hell are you going to do, perverted demon!? Stay away from my clothes!”

“I assure you I have no interest-” he began but was interrupted by a flying radio alarm clock.

“So, you two are demons.”

The two nodded synchronously.

“Demons who enter into contracts with humans.”

Again a nod.

“And that they owe me gratitude for taking them off the street.”

You ran a hand through your hair as a severe headache started beating again.

“I already told you, you don't need to be grateful to me for anything.” You ran your fingers over the sides of the temples, pushing and hoping that the pain would go away with that simple pressure. “You were attacking each other, I didn't save you from anything.”

What escaped you as you stared at the surface of the kitchen table was the significant look that the two demons had exchanged silently.

“In any case, there is still a significant intrusion.” The amber-eyed demon added.

“Then do something, anything, that will make you disappear immediately.” You asked, desperate to conclude those terrible negotiations.

The two looked at each other again before turning to you again.

“For that, we need a contract.”

You opened your mouth and eyes wide at the same time, looking at them as if they had just drunk each other's brains.

“I will never sell my soul to the devil!” you exclaimed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Sebastian chuckled. “Well, there must definitely be something you want from us.” He answered flirtatiously but after seeing your dark and pissed expression he decided to fly over. “Wealth, fame, power ... revenge ...”

The last word seemed to tread with nostalgia, confusing you more than necessary.

“Do you think I will sell my soul for such useless things? I had a perfect life before you two came in to destroy it. I'll probably end up analyzing for this...” you sighed tired. “I will never make a contract with you.”

Claude shrugged, as if it were a matter of little consequence. “Then I guess nobody will leave here very soon.”

The path to work went smoothly like oil.

The subway was as crowded as ever. Men and women with their work bags and some crazy tourist who had ventured despite the day didn’t bode well.

You squeezed your briefcase against your stomach as you sat on a desk and looked around.

Nobody seemed to notice you for any reason and everyone seemed completely normal people, unaware of all the paranormal that surrounded them. For a moment, you prayed that time would flow back again to allow you to appreciate more that monotony that had invaded your days for years. The whole situation seemed so unreal.

But, to remind you that it was all real, was the strong feeling of being observed but soon, inside your office on the third floor, you would have been the most peaceful and safest person in the world.

You would have done your research, you would have investigated what could hurt them or some spell that could have sent them back to hell as quickly as possible.

When you got out of the vehicle, you continued on foot along the usual road and while passing in front of the alley of the days before, you cursed yourself for stopping.

The sliding doors of the bank continued to open and close as customers and associates entered and left the building.

When you approached them the sweet PUFF that emanated almost made you want to cry.

The lobby was huge, allowing people to wait and operate with serenity, privacy and comfort.

When you approached a counter, very close to the stairs area, a man with auburn hair and a sweet smile looked at you curiously.

“Good morning, Henry.” You anticipated, raising a hand in case he hadn't heard you from the operation he was carrying out with a customer.

“Good morning, (Y / N). You finally recovered.” He replied back, returning to give immediate attention to the person over the counter.

You nodded, albeit with a little hesitation, and you quickly advanced to the lift that would take you straight to your safe place.

You pressed the button and said goodbye to the two colleagues on the upper floor who were waiting for the transport with you.

Your bank had more than 50 floors so it was unlikely that you would get to know even half of those who worked there.

Moreover, relations with those on the lower or upper floors were seldom due to lack of time. And each floor was assigned a job.

Once you reached your floor, you found it packed with people, as usual. Your area made itself available to the customer so the relationship was in close contact with other people.

When you passed the office of your best colleague, you smiled.

“Good morning, Isy. How have these days gone without me?” you asked as you appeared just beyond the door.

The young woman seemed to light up at the sight of your figure and stretched out her small hands.

“(Y / N)! You left me alone to feed these vultures!” she moaned as you advanced and grabbed her hands in yours as if to share the sense of unease with her.

You smiled.

“Forgive me and thank you for replacing me.” You reached over the desk and put a hand on her shoulder. “Whatever you need, don't hesitate to ask.”

She nodded, convinced of your honesty and fairness and watched you leave her room to move towards yours.

When you stood in front of it and inserted the keys inside the classic glass door that recited your name and your job, a ringing voice reached you.

“Miss (S/N), good morning. How are you today?”

You warned the bank manager to join you as you untangled yourself with the lock without then looking up at her.

“Oh, beautifully, director. I think nothing can ruin this day.”

Finally the door opened and with a wide smile you entered, still turning your back on the woman and quickly advancing towards your desk.

“Well, that's a good thing. So our new intern will have the pleasure of getting to know your quiet side.” The woman chuckled.

You sat on the leather chair with a sigh of pleasure and finally your gaze turned in the direction of your superior.

Your fingers instinctively tightened on the two armrests as your head began to fill with steam, which you were sure would come out of your ears at one moment or another.

“I'm Sebastian Michaelis, the new intern. It will be a real pleasure to assist you.”

And he stretched his right hand over the desk as a purple flash shone in the depths of his red eyes.

The director was watching you morbidly, as if expecting the same friendliness and, although shocked, you let common sense guide you to shake the hand of the devil who had followed you to work.

“V-Very pleasure, Mr. Michaelis. Yes, I'm sure it will be an excellent experience.” And you tried to hold it with all the force that your human body was able to pull out. But he only smiled in response.

“Well. Sebastian ... I can call you Sebastian, can't I?” the director corrected immediately, touching the man's arm with an unnatural flirtatious air that you would never have expected from her.

“But of course, it's a privilege for me.” He replied making the bile rise in your throat. Had that bastard really used that kind of skills to get in there?

“(Y / N) will help you with all the paperwork and then you will depend a little on her decisions.” And the hand wandered on the demon's back in a clear caress. “And mine, of course.”

After another couple of exchanges, the manager convinced herself to leave your office and you followed her to close the door and quickly turn to the demon.

“Are you serious?” you hissed, to prevent anyone in the other rooms from hearing.

The apparent man ran a hand through his hair, pulling a lock in front of his eyes. At that moment he was wearing a classic suit with a jacket and tie and you tried not to think about how good he could be in those clothes.

“Well, you didn't really think I'd leave you unprotected, miss” The devil replied, with the most innocent air he managed to gather.

You clenched your skirt in a fist that could have penetrated even the flesh of your palms with tension.

“Protection? This is control. You also want to check me out of the house!”

You felt your breathing reach the limit as you entered hyperventilation. You couldn't believe it, you didn't have room. They were quickly closing you in a box.

You brought a hand to your throat, trying to recover the air that you hadn’t been able to collect to oxygenate your brain and think of a solution.

“Miss, are you all right?”

When his cadaveric hand reached your face panic gripped your mind and, before I realized it, a strong backhand hit the demon's cheek, taking him by surprise and causing him to withdraw his hand.

“Don’t touch me!”

Your voice rose a couple of octaves but you quickly regained control, looking around to notice that no one had seen or listened to your outburst.

You didn't know what was wrong with you but seeing that flash of freedom being ripped off made you uncontrollable for a couple of minutes.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me? I just helped you...” you couldn't understand that surreal situation. It wasn’t possible that your perfect life had been ruined by a single good gesture from you.

It wasn't fair, was it?

“You can't understand, miss.” Sebastian replied, still pushing one hand towards your shoulder and squeezing it slightly as if to comfort you.

Being close to the window, the demon's red eyes lit up as soon as he saw that unmistakable red helmet and black motorcycle suit under the building.

The figure seemed to be answering something on cell phone and after a last look around it resumed its journey, making the vehicle roar.

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loveistherootofhappiness · 3 years

Text

And we have completed day 7! I had fun doing this and it gave me the motivation I needed to get back into writing more consistently. Definitely gotta keep this going.

Ship: Madney Rating: G Word Count: 1203

Day 7: Free choice

Can also be read here

Chimney awoke to little hands smacking him in the face. The very distinct weight on his stomach let him know him who was smacking him.

“Up, oppa, up.”

He opened one of his eyes seeing the face of his youngest, Jae-Min, sitting on him.

“Good morning, Jae,” Chimney shook off the blur of sleep and looked at the clock to see if it was early as it felt, it absolutely was. He sat up carefully making sure his son didn’t fall, gathering him in his arms. “Did you have a good sleep, little man?” He nodded in response.

Chimney yawned, knowing that going back to sleep was absolutely not happening. It was fine, he needed to be up anyway as his wife would be home in the next couple of hours. She’d been working the night shift, which left him on the morning shift with their children.

Taking Jae-Min with him, as the 21 month old would allow nothing less, he sat him in the counter as he completed his morning routine. He just finished wiping the aftershave from his face when he heard the sound of something crashing to the floor downstairs, most likely in the kitchen.

“Uh oh!” Jae-Min commented, having heard it, too.

“Uh oh is right.” Chimney paused to see if her heard anything else. When no other sounds were heard, he put his towel down, grabbed his son, and went to investigate.

There was no doubt in his mind that it wasn’t a potential break in, as their alarm system would have alerted him to it. He had a sneaking suspicion who was downstairs. As soon as he walked into the hallway, he noticed the two bedrooms that were across from each other’s doors were open. Taking a peak inside both rooms, he found them empty, confirming his suspicions.

His other two children were awake and doing something they weren’t supposed to be.

He sighed and walked down the staircase, through the living room, and stood in the entrance to the kitchen. From his vantage point, he could see food all over the counter, cabinet doors opened, the fridge open, complete with his daughter trying to clean up the mess splattered across the wood floor and island. Off to her side was the large metal mixing bowl, most likely what made the noise they’d heard earlier.

“Jee-Yun and Joon-Tae, I know both of you know better.” Chimney put on his sternest dad voice.

Jee-Yun made a small noise before quickly turning around to see him, dropping the rag. “Hi, dad!”

“Hi dad!” Joon-Tae mimicked from his seat on the stool. As Chimney walked further into the kitchen, he could now see the flour that covered the counter and his son.

“Tae go close the fridge, please.”

“Okay!” He scrambles off the stool and did as he was told.

“What are the two of you doing? You know better than to do any of this without me or your mom,” he reprimanded lightly as he sat Jae-Min on the other stool and got another dish towel to help clean up the mess. Picking up the bowl and placing it on the counter, he asked, “This bowl is really high in the cabinet, how did you get it?”

“I got on the stool and got on the counter to reach the counter,” Jee-Yun’s voice got softer as she spoke as knew she wasn’t supposed to do anything she’d just said. Chimney’s eyes widened in horror as multiple scenarios of how his daughter could have hurt herself flashed in his mind. “I’m sorry, daddy. We just didn’t wanna wake you.”

“We wanted to start on momma’s surprise.” Joon-Tae chimed in.

“Yeah, we weren’t going to touch the stove or anything, just get everything ready.”

“You do realize how dangerous what you did is, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she looked up at him, all pigtails and her mother’s eyes, giving him that oh so effective puppy dog look that he could never stay mad at, “sorry, daddy.”

He kissed her forehead, “it’s okay yeon-in, just please don’t ever do that again.”

“I promise.”

“And guys, next time please wake me or your mom or wait for us before attempting anything like this.”

“Okay.” Jee and Tae said simultaneously.

“Now, let’s do this properly.” He and Jee-Yun cleaned up the mess on the floor, de-floured the counter and Tae and cleaned up any other spilled ingredients they’d gotten out.

Since it was obvious that Jee and Tae wanted to go with pancakes for their mother’s breakfast, that what they did. Jee and Tae mixed the ingredients, under his careful supervision. While Jae contented himself with being fed fruit while he watched what his siblings were doing. He made more than enough pancakes for all of them, mostly Maddie’s favorite of blueberry, but made a couple tailored to what his children would like. Their specialty breakfast also included bagels, eggs, and bacon, fruit, some of Maddie’s other favorite breakfast foods.

“Daddy, use mommy’s pretty plates,” Jee told him as everything was finishing cooking.

“Tae don’t touch those, they’re hot,” he stopped his son as he went to reach for the bagels in the toaster. Turning back towards his daughter, “what’s wrong with these, Jee?”

“The other ones are prettier daddy. Presentation’s important,” the eight year old said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

As they everything thing finished up, he plated everything, making sure to put it all on the “prettier” plates. The juice was the last thing he was able to put on the table before he heard the faint jingle of keys and the front door opening. “Chimney!” his wife shouted.

“Were in here, babe!”

As soon as Maddie walked through the kitchen entrance, “surprise! Happy birthday, mommy!” Jee and Tae shouted, running to hug their mother. “We made you breakfast!” Tae added.

“Oh, thank you so much guys, that’s so sweet. And it smells delicious! And just the thing I need because I’m starving” Maddie walked to the counter, smiling at her him. She turned her attention to their youngest, “did you help too, Jae?”

“Yeah!”

“If what you mean by help is did he watch us while he just ate? Then yes.” Chimney said as he walked around the counter and leaned in to kiss her. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know.”

“This isn’t me, I was only here to make sure they didn’t hurt themselves. This is all our children. They wanted to do something special for mommy, who was I to say no.”

Maddie smiled at him and their children, “alright guys, let’s eat!”

As Jee, Tae, and Jae monopolized their mother’s attention as they sat down to enjoy their breakfast, he took a minute really marvel at the woman he’d married and the lives they’d created. In the 10 years they’d been together, life had thrown so much their way. And they’d gotten through it all, together. They had many more birthdays, anniversaries, milestones, and every moment in between to experience. And he’d continue to share it all with her. Meeting her eyes across the table, he mouthed, “I love you.”

“Ditto,” she mouthed back with a wink ---

I hope you enjoyed the posts this week. If you’re ever feeling spicy, you’re more than free to send me any prompts. Or you can just stop by to say hi.

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6

#madneyweek2021 #madney #chimney x maddie #maddie buckley #howie chimney han #jee-yun buckley han #other kids because of course #911 fanfic #fanfic writing hell

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allthings-sandy · 4 years

Text

Sweet dream

Oh my I haven’t uploaded anything in a long time. I wrote this piece some time ago and didn’t get to upload until now. Hope you guys enjoy!

Pairing: Peter Parker x avenger!reader Word count: 2.4k Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

You were on your bed scrolling through your phone on news articles about yourself and the rest of the Avengers when you heard a knock on the door. You slowly brought yourself up, frustrated to leave the very comfort of your bed. You opened the door when someone grabbed your face and abruptly pulled you in for a kiss. That person pushed you all the way to your bed and you fell on your bed when the back of your legs came in contact with the footboard. They raised a hand to your neck and pulled you in closer to deepen the already passionate kiss.

You slowly opened your eyes to see your desk on your left. You were holding your bolster close to you as you can’t fall asleep without hugging something. You sit up from your bed. Everything you thought happened turned out to be a dream. You grumble in your head, cursing the fact that all your good dreams always get stopped when the good parts happen.

“I want to go back to sleep.” You thought as you fell back onto your pillow and sighed. Who was that in your dream though? You didn’t even know if it was a man or a woman. All you knew is that whoever it was, they had soft lips. But then again, doesn’t everyone more or less have soft lips?

Somehow, you couldn’t forget about it. It just felt so real. You knew very well it wasn’t though. Heck, the person who kissed you in your dream may not even be real. But it’s you. Once you are curious about something, it just grows and grows until you find an answer. The answer may be within the Avengers because you don’t really hang out with other people outside of the Tower.

You stood up from your bed and walked to your desk. You flipped open your journal to an empty page. That journal was to record your weight training and diet but it’s not like you had any other notebook lying around. You wrote down all the Avengers’ names and thought carefully.

Tony Steve Bruce Natasha Clint Wanda Vision Thor Peter Bucky Sam

“ That’s a lot of lips to go through.” You thought as you bit the top of your pen. You wrote the number 3 next to the married; Tony, Clint, Wanda and Vision. And you wrote the number 2 next to the people who like other people; Bruce and Natasha and Peter. Your heart ached mildly as you wrote the ‘2’ next to Peter’s name. After the whole thing with Liz, you thought you had a chance but one day he told you about his feeling for MJ, one of his closest friends. You saw her and she was really pretty. A little rough around the edges but that didn’t hide the beauty you saw when Peter showed you her picture.

The numbers were to indicate who you would be watching or attempting first. Hence, the first would be Steve. He’s physically almost 20 years older than you, but that isn’t going to stop you.

You closed your book and left it in your room as you walked past the living room, to the kitchen. It was 7:35AM. Which meant Steve would be coming back from his run right about now. To your convenience, Steve walked through the back door of the kitchen and again, to your convenience, Bucky and Sam followed behind.

“ Looks like I’ll have to do it at the same time. Great.”

“ You’re up early.” Sam said as he sat next to you at the dining table.

“ I had a weird dream so I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.” You shrugged. You looked to your side so you could get a good look at his face, but he wasn’t looking at you.

As Steve and Bucky made breakfast, you and Sam spoke back and forth, with you turning your body in his direction so you could get a good look of his lips.

“ No, it’s not Sam. It’s just not him.” You thought as Steve set a plate of pancakes in front you. As you muttered a ‘thanks’, your eyes followed him and Bucky. They sat right in front of you which made investigations so much easier.

“ I’m just saying, it’s my hair, my business. I don’t need anyone to tell me what to do with my hair. Right, Y/N?” Bucky said and turned to you, catching you looking at his lips.

“ What? Y-yeah.” You stuttered. The guys looked at you weirdly.

“ Okay. We’ve known each other for years, so if there’s anything you would like to tell us, we’re all ears.” Steve said.

“ Yeah. There’s no judgement here. This is a safe space.” Sam said and waved his hand around the table to signify that it was, indeed, a safe space.

You looked at all of them and you sighed. “ Alright. I’ll spill but please… no judgement okay?”

“ We promise.” Bucky said and held your hand.

“ Okay so, I had a dream last night. That dream started out normal. Then the dream took a turn when… when someone, well, kissed me.” You said that last bit in a small voice.

“ What? Speak up Y/N.” Steve said as they all inched closer to you.

“ Kissed me! When someone kissed me.” You said and covered your face with your hands in embarrassment. “ And now, I’m trying to find out who did it.”

“ Wait that’s it? I thought it was something serious!” Sam exclaimed.

“ So you’ve been staring at our lips, because you think one of us kissed you in your dream? Are you even sure it was a real person?” Steve asked you.

“ No, but if it was, I want to find out who.” You said as you crossed your legs and leaned back in your seat. The guys looked at you with narrowed eyes. They must have thought you were a little crazy.

“ We’re almost physically 20 years older than you.” Bucky said as he points at himself and Steve. “ What were you going to do if it was one of us?”

“ I don’t know I didn’t think that far.” You said and shrugged.

“ Were you going to go after the rest too?” Steve asked.

“ Well, yeah. I made a list and you three were the first because you guys are single and not interested in anyone as far as I know.”

“ Thanks for the reminder Y/N. It hurts.” Sam said as he raises a hand to his heart.

You gave them a thumbs up in response. You stood up from your seat, turned around and you fell back in your seat because Peter was standing right behind you.

“ When the hell did you get here??” You asked Peter in an unexpectedly shrill voice.

“ Just. Did I scare you? Sounds like I did.” He said and laughed. He patted your head and walked to the fridge. You wrinkled your nose at his actions, but your facial expression softened as you kept watching him. He looked like how he did every time he woke up. Unkept curly hair, a plain t-shirt and checkered pyjama pants. Sam used his finger to push your head down and you were soon gazing at your empty plate.

“ Stop making it so obvious.” He said and took his finger off your head.

“ Thanks.” You muttered, with your head still faced downwards. Unbeknownst to you, Sam and Bucky were exchanging glances and nodding to each other, while looking at Peter.

“ Hey Spidey. Y/N had this bizarre dream last night and she wou-mmphm-“ It took you a while to process what was happening but when you did, your hand went flying over Sam’s mouth to stop him from saying anymore because it could potentially destroy your relationship with Peter and you really didn’t want that to happen.

“ She would like your input about it.” Bucky finished his sentence and your eyes widened in a mix of disbelief and anger. You couldn’t believe they were about to tell him. They knew how much you liked the boy and they tease you to no end.

“ Uh yeah sure.” Peter said as leaned over the counter, with a glass of apple juice in his hand.

You stood up straight, realising that it was better to not kick the guys’ asses because - rational thinking. “ They’re just saying nonsense. I don’t need help with anything. Really.” You said in your calmest voice. “ You can just go back to drinking your apple juice and I will be in my room. Bye!” You said and tried to retreat to your bedroom but was stopped when Bucky pulled you by the collar.

“ Hang out with us Y/N! And don’t you want to know about what your dream meant?” Bucky asked sarcastically and pushed me into my seat. You pursed your lips and closed you eyes hard in frustration. You looked at the guys’ faces. Steve looked like he didn’t want any part of it and Sam and Bucky looked like they were getting a real kick out of the situation.

“ Two can play at that game.” You thought and said, “ Well, I had a dream where I saw two people kissing. It was a pretty weird dream, so I got curious… I’m suspecting that it’s Sam and Bucky over here but I’m not sure.” You said innocently. You saw the look on their faces and it was priceless. Steve almost spit out his drink.

“ How- no! That is ridiculous!” Sam exclaimed and stood up. Bucky was too shocked to say anything.

“ It’s my dream and I know what I saw. Now I feel terrible for not giving you guys privacy. I’m pretty clueless, you should give me a signal next time.” You said and put a hand to your heart, being sympathetic. “ Now that I’ve got it sorted, I will go back to my room. Thank you so much for helping me figure it out. I support you guys.” You said and placed your hands together as if you will pray for their relationship. This time, you successfully made your exit, leaving Steve trying not to laugh, Bucky rubbing his face in frustration and Sam speechlessly fuming.

Peter grinned amusingly at your actions. He’s seen Bucky act the way he did only a handful of times and only you could make Sam that ticked off. Peter put down his glass and walked to your room.

You heard a knock on your door after crossing out Steve, Bucky and Sam’s name. You walked to your room door, opened it and there Peter was.

“ Hey. Can I come in?” Peter sheepishly asked. You made way for him to enter your room and you closed the door.

“ You really did something to them, Y/N.” Peter said as he chuckles.

“ It was my pleasure.” You said and laughed, remembering what just happened. “ Because it really happened. In my dream.”

“ Really?”

“ Yeah, it really happened.” You reiterated.

“ You’re lying.” Peter said to me as he cocked his head to the side. “ I know you are.”

“ I’m not! Why would I lie?” You said and scoffed, trying to evade his suspicions. The phrase ‘oh shit’ ran through your mind repeatedly.

“ Because you always narrow your eyes a little when you lie.”

“ I- I don’t narrow my eyes.”

“ You just did! You were narrowing your eyes a lot when talking about Sam and Bucky.” Peter said and imitated your so-called habit. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“ I'm sorry, I'm not here to convict you or anything. I was just curious what your dream was.” Peter said and rubbed his neck awkwardly. You narrowed your eyebrows at him in suspicion. Why does he want to know so badly?

“ Alright, if you're dying to know. Long story short, someone kissed me in my dream. That's it.” You said, leaving out the part where you were trying to find out who it was.

“ Do you know who?” He asked in a rather small voice.

“ What? No, I don’t. I’m a curious person but I’m not that curious.” You said as you laughed awkwardly. “ Why?” You asked with your head a little tilted to the right.

“ This may be a bit hard to explain. Okay, you know how if a girl gets kissed when she’s sleeping, she kind of feels it when she wakes up?” He asked you but you just look at him weirdly.

“ So you think someone kissed me? In my sleep?” You asked and he nodded.

“ If you just think about it… I’m here. Talking to you. About the kiss in your dream. And only someone who really likes you would do that in real life. Any guesses?” He asked. You put it together and ran a scenario in your head.

“ You! Wait did you actually??” You asked in pleasant shock. You were a teeny bit happy he actually did it because it mean he feels something. But a part of you was a teeny bit angry because he came into your room and kissed you while you were sleeping.

“ Your room door was slightly open and I wanted to close it but… I’m sorry. I’m a coward and thought this whole thing up so you would find out my feelings for you.” He said as he paced back and forth in nervousness. You stood there in silence. You really didn’t know what to say but something had to come out of your mouth.

“ I… I can’t tell if I’m mad or happy. I really like you, Peter. For God knows how long.” You confessed and you couldn’t help but smile as you did. He looked at you longingly and lunged at you, startling you to take a few steps back. His hands reached your cheek and neck and pulled you in, your lips meeting in the middle. You blinked a few times before closing your eyes, immersing yourself in the moment you’ve always wanted to happen. His hands snaked down to my waist, my hips and then further down…

“ Hey there. Going a little too fast, aren’t we?” You said as you pulled his arms back to your waist.

“ Sorry, I- I guess I was too eager.” He said and laughed guiltily. “ I’ve been wanting you for a long time.”

You looked at him dreamily and said, “ Well, I guess we could compromise. How about we start tomorrow? Not too fast, but also to make up for lost time.”

He planted a quick kiss on your lips, “ Can’t wait for tomorrow.”

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker imagine #avengers fanfiction #avenger x reader

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