#and then I stalled a bit more until I felt it had been long enough since a fellow windclanner cameo and I had time lol (yeah drawing that

[daily-whistlepaw]

daily whistlepaw until ke becomes PoV day 1111

whis brought the mallow, juniper and feverfew ke collected to Kestrelflight.

Whis and Kestrel training was requested by a lovely anon, hope you enjoy this one and sorry for stalling a bit with answering it

[violettwrites]

jealousy, jealousy 🏹 daryl dixon

summary: daryl noticed you growing closer to another member of the group and becomes increasingly jealous as days go by. when you finally confront him, it leads to confessions of feelings that had been pushed down.

author’s note: hi guys !! this is just something that i vaguely wrote at work until i had time to edit it 🥲 it’s been sitting in my drafts for days now but i hope you enjoy !

don’t forget to like, reblog, leave a comment, or give me a follow ! i appreciate the support 🫶🏻

as always, my ask box is open for requests x

warnings: angst ?? vulnerable!jealous!daryl

word count: 1,295

— — —

life in the apocalypse had turned into a ( somewhat ) steady rhythm of survival, yet often overtaken with moments of fear, exhaustion, and fleeting happiness. you’d always felt fortunate enough to be apart of such a strong group— strangers that had turned into close friends and family. and as the days blurred together with long hours on the road to find a new place to call home, you had found yourself spending more time with glenn. he was easy to talk to; wise, a good listener, and had a calm presence that made the chaos of the world a little easier to handle.

but daryl noticed.

he noticed every laugh, every smile you shared with glenn. at first, he tried to shrug it off. of course you’d get along with glenn; he was a great guy, trustworthy. but the more he watched the two of you, the more he felt the knot twist in his chest, a feeling he wasn’t familiar with at all.

jealousy.

he’d never been the kind of guy to voice his emotions like that, never been the one to let himself care too much. especially in a world like this, when you could be ripped away from him in seconds. caring got people hurt, and in this world, there was no room for distractions. but no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter, it did. and everytime he saw you with glenn, it became harder to ignore.

days passed, and his usual gruffness turned colder, his responses to you were shorter. you had noticed the shift in his energy towards you— the way he had become distant, pretty much avoiding you completely. confusion clouded your mind as you wonder where it had gone wrong. daryl had always been protective over you, but this was different. he was pulling away from you, and you had no idea why.

after a long day of clearing out walkers from the gates of the prison the group had decided to make their new home, you found daryl sitting alone on the rooftop of the prison lookout tower, sharpening his knife. the moonlight illuminated his face, highlighting his tensed jaw. taking a deep breath, you stepped closer towards him.

“daryl,” you spoke softly, careful to not spook the male.

he didn’t look up. he continued to work on his knife, the scraping of metal filling the silence between the two of you.

“daryl.” you repeated, your words a little more sterner as you stepped towards him, minimising the space between the both of you. “what’s wrong? why are you ignoring me?”

daryl paused, his hands stalling their moment before he finally looked up, blue eyes glimmering from the moonlight. “nothin’,” he muttered, but the edge in his voice betrayed him.

you crossed your arms over you chest, brows furrowed in confusion and a little bit of frustration. “it’s not nothing. you’ve been acting weird to me for days now, and i don’t know why. what did i do?”

the brunette male scoffed, shaking his head as he stood up, sliding his knife into its holder on his belt. “ain’t about what ya did,” he muttered, his voice gruff.

“then what’s this about?” you pressed, blocking his path by stepping in front of him as he tried to walk around you. “talk to me daryl, please.” you had always been much better at confrontation than he had, and it was something he admired about you. the way you got straight to the point, instead of avoiding it all together like he did.

daryl stopped when you had stepped in front of him, his shoulders tensing. there was a long silence before he finally let out a breath, frustration and… something else flickering over his features.

“yer gettin’ real close to glenn,” he said, his voice low. almost a growl. “real close.”

you furrowed your brow in confusion, taken aback by his words. “glenn? what does he have to do with anything?”

daryl huffed, running a hand through his hair. “ya don’t see it, do ya? e’ry time i turn ‘round, yer with him. laughin’, talkin’— it’s like ya don’t even see me anymore.”

your heart skipped a beat as the realisation of his mood change set in. “wait.. are you.. jealous?”

he looked away, clenching his jaw, annoyed you had somehow caught on so quickly to his shitty mood. “ain’t about bein’ jealous. just.. i dunno.. you and him? feels like ya don’t need me around anymore.”

“daryl,” you sighed softly, stepping closer to him. “glenn’s just a friend. i’m not interested in him like that— plus he’s got the hots for maggie.” you raised a brow at him, eyes locked on to his as you gaged his reaction.

“then wha’ about me?” his eyes held your gaze, uncertainty written across his face. the question hung in the air, heavy with all the things that had been left unsaid for so long. your breath caught in your throat as you realised this was the moment. the moment to either push forward, or walk away.

“daryl,” you whispered his name again, taking a step closer to him. “i’ve always needed you around, and i always will. more than anyone else.” you watched the lump in his throat as he swallowed hard, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. and when he didn’t find any, he copied you, stepping closer to you, closing the distance between your bodies.

“thought.. thought maybe ya didn’t feel the same way,” he admitted, his voice strong with vulnerability.

you reached out for him, hand pressing gently against his bicep. “i’ve always felt this way about you, daryl. i just didn’t think— i didn’t think you wanted that.”

a low breath escaped him, and he closed his eyes for a moment as if he was trying to steady himself. when he opened them again, there was a softness there that you hadn’t really seen before. a tenderness that made your heart ache. “been tryin’ to push it down,” he said. “didn’t think i had the right.. not in this world.”

you shook your head, stepping even closer to him so you were inches apart. “you have every right, daryl. we both do. the world might be broken, but we’re still here. we’re still allowed to feel.”

his hand slowly lifted, hesitating for a moment before he cupped your cheek, his thumb ghosting over the skin of your cheekbone. you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand causing your heart to pound against your chest.

“dunno how to do this,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“you don’t have to know,” you replied, your own voice quiet. “we’ll figure it out together.”

for a moment, everything else fell away— the dangers, the fear, the uncertainty of tomorrow. all that mattered was the way daryl was looking at you. the way his thumb continued to stroke the skin of your cheek, grounding you in this moment.

slowly, he leaned down, his forehead resting against your own. his breath was warm across your face, and for the first time in a long while, you felt safe. like everything might actually be okay.

“i’m here,” you whispered, your hands gently resting on his chest. “i’m not going anywhere.” and with that, the last of daryl dixon’s defences crumbled. he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you into him as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. you held him just as tightly, feeling the unspoken promises in his embrace.

in a world full of loss, you had found something worth holding onto. and for the first time, daryl allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was still something left to fight for.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {8}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Your due date approaches but that’s not the only thing that’s been a long time coming Warnings: 18+ only, fluff WC: 2.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine

Round 4 - Japanese GP

“I think I’m in love,” you moaned happily.

“I should hope so,” Lando commented dryly, making Charles laugh.

“She’s not talking about us, mon cher.”

You patted the vending machine full of the greatest snacks you had ever tasted. “Ignore them, it’s just you and me, now take my money.”

“Are we going to karaoke?” Pierre asked, checking his phone to see the time. “Yuki and Daniel are already there.”

“Shh, let the pregnant woman eat,” his girlfriend reprimanded. “She’s growing a whole human in there.”

“Thank you, Kika.” You sent her a grateful smile before throwing your middle finger in Pierre’s direction. The machine whirred and you turned back to see mechanical arms moving your choice down to the little door. “I just need a few more.”

“She’s stalling because she knows she sucks at singing when she’s sober,” Max joked before pulling out his wallet and going to the next machine. “What else do you want?”

Everyone caught onto Max’s idea and lined up along the alley of vending machines and within minutes there were enough snacks to last you the night, plus one huge Pokémon stuffed animal that Pierre chose for the baby. You could barely wrap your arms around the teddy and you narrowed your eyes at your old teammate. “Out of all of the Pokémon you chose…Squirtle?”

His grin widened until his laughter broke through. “What’s wrong with Squirtle? Everyone loves a big squirtle.”

“You’re so immature,” you tried to say with a straight face but it failed as you giggled. “This is going in my bed when I get home. It’s going to be my snuggler when I’m abandoned.”

“We aren’t abandoning you, mon amour. Everyone agreed it’s too close to your due date to come to China.”

You didn’t like it, but it was the truth. You were lucky to even get away with coming to Japan since you were already 37 weeks pregnant. At least there was a two week gap between the races so you would have some time with Lando and Charles before they left for the next race.

“And your mother will be there, so you definitely aren’t abandoned,” Lando pointed out. He took the teddy from you so you could better see where you were walking and tucked it under one arm so he could still hold your hand. “Max has already given us his plane so we can get back if we need to.”

“I have?” Max cocked a brow.

“You may have been drunk when you said it, but there were witnesses.”

Max scratched his head in confusion but he couldn’t recall the memory. Shrugging, he wasn’t really bothered, he would have offered for them use it anyway. “Who’s your reserve if you have to go?”

“Ollie and Pato,” Charles answered. “My baby is in good hands if we miss the race. Lando is a little more worried.”

“Not of Pato, I’ve seen him in testing,” Lando countered. “I just don’t like sharing.” Everyone looked pointedly between you and your boyfriends. “Har-har, I meant my seat, assholes.”

You eventually made it to the karaoke bar and Yuki growled at everyone for being late, except you. You got a tight hug and a strong whiff of alcohol on his breath.

“I didn’t know what you felt like, so I got a bit of everything,” he said as he pointed to the side table full of snacks and non alcoholic drinks. Pierre reached out for a pack of biscuits but Yuki slapped his hand away. “Not for you motherfuckers. Get your own.”

The annual karaoke had grown over the years and you weren’t sure if it was better when you were sober or not. On one hand you nearly wet yourself laughing at how terrible everyone sounded but on the other your ears were almost bleeding by the time they were too drunk to continue. Crashing out onto the hotel bed never felt so good when you finally got back after midnight. Thankfully it was only going to be media day for the guys so they could sleep off their hangovers.

You combed your fingers through Lando’s hair as he spawned out next to you, soft snores falling from his open mouth. A smile played at your lips and Charles chuckled beside you. “Go on,” he said as he nudged you gently. “Say it.”

You couldn’t resist and he knew it. “It’s all too much for Little Lando Norris.”

“Not little,” Lando grumbled.

“You were asleep a second ago.”

“Wasn’t asleep, just resting my eyes.”

“Such a dad thing to say,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek as his breathing evened out and he was asleep once more. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

“You should try to rest too,” Charles murmured as he settled into his pillow and opened his arms for you, his bleary eyes struggling to stay open.

“I will.” You would try to at least, but finding a comfortable position grew harder each day. “I love you.”

“Je t’aime aussi. De beaux rêves.”

He was asleep before you could even reply and you soon followed.

The need to go to the toilet once again woke you and you found Charles' space in the bed empty. After relieving yourself, you followed the light in the living room to see the curtains swaying softly in the breeze.

Charles stood on the balcony overlooking the city, his fingers idly running his matching trinity necklace along its chain. It was only as you got closer you saw his eyes weren’t on the city below but the dark skies above and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head between his shoulder blades.

“What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He turned and leaned back against the rail, his hands coming to rest on the impossibly large swell of your stomach. You placed your hands over Charles’ and guided them to where the action was happening against your ribs, a nice reprieve from being kicked in the bladder. You couldn’t get much bigger before you popped and the stretch marks already showed the strain the pregnancy was having on your body.

“I wish Jules was here to see this.”

You hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the driver but from what Charles had said it would have been hard not to love the charismatic person he described. “I’m sure he would be proud of you. I am. Have you thought any more about her name?”

Charles chewed his lip before sighing. “No, I want something new. I don’t want her to be pressured by the weight of the name she carries.”

You could completely understand how a name changed everything and nodded. “Okay, I’ll cross Julia off the list.”

“And Landa.”

You wrinkled your nose in distaste. “That was never on my list. I don’t know why you didn’t shut that idea down right away.”

Charles chuckled and kissed your nose. “Because it’s funny, mon amour. He actually thought it had a real chance.”

“Our hopeless dreamer,” you sighed, resting your head on his chest as you yawned.

There wasn’t much time left to narrow down the list of first names but a compromise had been found with the last name. To make it fair, they decided if it was clear Lando was the biological father then Charles' last name would go first and vice-versa. If it wasn’t clear then you were going to have to referee their debate, something you were hoping to avoid.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Charles murmured as he kissed your hand and laced it with his. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

It was no secret you always woke up when one or both of them went missing from your bed. Even asleep you seemed to know when their body warmth disappeared.

“It’s okay. I’ll have to get used to it.”

“When we abandon you?” he teased, but there was an edge of sadness in his tone.

“Maybe that was a little harsh but I was hungry. I’m sorry.” You climbed onto the bed and snuggled in between their warm bodies. “I know you aren’t abandoning me, Cha.”

“Good, now I need to have an important conversation.” He shuffled down so he could kiss your stomach and whispered, “Ma petite, you need to stay inside there until daddy and papa get home. I know it’s a little tight in there and we are very excited to meet you too but you have to hang on just a few more weeks, ma fille. Deal?”

“I'm not sure you are going to get an ans-” A kick interrupted you and Charles smirked.

“My girl already listens to her papa.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned as he rejoined you on the pillows. “I hear teenage girls are terrible at listening to their parents. Not me of course, I was an angel.”

It was Charles’ turn to laugh as he curled his arm around your waist and closed his eyes. “An angel…I don’t think that was the word your mother used.”

Your yawn cracked your jaw before you said, “It’s a good thing I have matured since then.”

“Like fine wine, mon ange.” His nose brushed your cheek before he planted a sleepy kiss on your temple. “Bonne nuit.”

Exhaustion turned your tongue heavy as your body relaxed against his. “Goodnight, baby.”

Round 5 - Chinese GP

You wanted to smash your phone when the alarm went off in the middle of the night. The time on the screen said 7.30am but it was a lie. You had only been asleep for a few minutes from what the aches in your body indicated, not hours.

“The drivers parade is starting,” your mother called out from the lounge.

With a groan you pushed away the giant Squirtle you used as a body pillow and rolled to the edge of the bed before swinging your legs off. Just the small movement left you breathless as your lung capacity dropped and you hated the think what your VO2 levels would be like at this point.

“Can you hit record please?” you yelled back before going to the bathroom. There was no way you were going to miss a moment of the days activities, even if it meant watching the pre-race grid walk after the race finished.

You made it to the couch in time to see Charles and Lando climb onto the trailer together and couldn’t help noticing the dark bags under their eyes. They matched yours. It was the first time being away from each other for so long that you were all finding it difficult to adjust and sleep. Video calls couldn’t replace touching them.

They would keep their phones with them until the very last moment when they climbed in the car so you grabbed yours and sent a quick message after reading the sweet good morning messages that came through while you were sleeping.

To Group Chat: Drive fast and keep it clean. I love you.

It took almost half a minute with the delay of live tv for them to pull their phones out before turning and waving to the camera with big smiles, Charles even blew a kiss.

The boys had promised an interesting race during their media interviews on Thursday. Everyone knew it was the first race without you there and they were going to make up for it by pushing their hardest for a win. As it turned out, Checo tried to go three wide into turn one with Max and George, causing a red flag and the retirement of all three cars.

You could practically see the fumes coming off your brother and you didn’t need to be a lip reader to know what he was saying when the camera panned to him in the garage. Maybe Checo would be the next to learn just how fast Red Bull can take away the seat they gave. He wouldn’t be the first and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“Eat your breakfast, it’s gone cold.”

The dish your mother made would still sit on the coffee table for another 37 laps but you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. Charles was leading with Lewis in second place but you knew the Mercedes’ tyre degradation meant Lando would soon be able to overtake, and you weren’t even there to scream for them.

“I will soon,” you lied as you edged closer to the tv and saw the two cars enter the straight. “Get him baby…”

Lando’s rear wing opened, adding to the slipstream he was already getting from Lewis, and he pulled out to shoot past, diving onto his breaks in the corner and taking second place.

“Yes!!!” you screamed as you jumped to your feet.

“Don’t jump around too much, you might break your waters,” your mother warned as she pulled you back down into the couch cushions.

“But did you see that? That was perfect!”

Your mother smiled at your enthusiasm. “He did very well, but you need to calm down.”

Your nail beds were ruined by the time it came to pitting and they both went in on the same lap but Ferrari made a mistake and took a few key seconds to recover. It was just long enough for Lando to be released and get in front of Charles.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, nervously bouncing your knee as Lando defended against Charles. “I can’t watch. Mum, my heart can’t handle this…” She held your hand and you gripped it tight for the remaining laps.

“Go! Go! Go!” you screamed at the tv, leaping to your feet again as Lando finally crossed the finish line less than two seconds ahead of Charles. “YESSSS!!!”

You couldn’t keep still as you rubbed your belly and laughed exuberantly. “Daddy just won his first race! Holy shit, he did it!” You were giddier than the first time you won but he had waited so long for it after being robbed of the win in Sochi. “I can’t believe I’m not fucking there!”

“Language,” your mother reminded with a laugh. You turned to see she was recording your reaction and sent the video to the group chat with Lando and Charles.

“Oh please, she’s not even born, and that’s the least of her worries.”

Lando’s shouts over the team radio made you smile harder and he was still laughing and possibly crying by the time he pulled into the pit lane. “Yeah, baby, about fucking time! Woohoo!! Who’s your daddy?”

“Well done, mate, you deserve this.”

“Thanks, Jarv, are you crying?”

“I just got something in my eye.”

“Yeah me too.”

His car parked in the centre position but he couldn’t get out as sat in disbelief, his helmet dipped with his head. Charles was the first out and half hung into Lando’s cockpit as he embraced the winner. You couldn’t hear their exchange but you could imagine Charles telling him how proud he was before helping him climb out of his seat.

Lando jumped from the halo and into Charles’ arms before Carlos rushed in too after taking third place. You couldn’t help thinking it should have been you with them.

“What a way to take your first win,” Jenson said with a grin as he started the post race interview. “I guess there will be plenty to celebrate tonight. Any plans?”

“Mhmm,” Lando hummed as Charles joined him after his weigh-in. “Big plans. Important plans. We are heading straight to the airport and going home to celebrate with our wife.”

“Wife?” you asked aloud.

“Wife?” Jenson echoed.

“Uh, figure of speech, you know?” Lando chuckled, his neck turning pink at his mistake but he was so high on elation it had slipped out. “We have a baby on the way and our lives are built together. It doesn’t get more committed than that kind of thing.”

“So there haven’t been any secret nuptials we don’t know about?”

“No, not that we wouldn’t if we could but there’s kind of laws or something against it, or so my lawyers say.”

“Trust me, they’ve checked,” Charles added, but it was the first you had heard of it.

You were still thinking about that when they disappeared to the cool down room and when you watched them stand proudly on the podium, the British national anthem playing loudly. You were still thinking about it when they left the stage and the Sky presentation came to an end.

Click here for the next part.

[myungjaes-luvv]

I was thinking about bully! Sunghoon or Jay

One day he gets too angry and horny and decides to fuck you in an empty classroom or a bathroom stall! >_<

wow what a BANGER idea🫠anyway i wrote jay for this one hope you like it!

warnings: jay kind of forces himself on reader but it’s consensual anyway, the nickname ‘doll,’ semi-public?, unprotected sex (but its not explicitly mentioned), kind of rushed towards the end because i lost motivation oops

hard hours + requests: open (bnd, enha, &team)

the sound of the school bell rang through the halls as students scramble to get to their next class. you carefully zip your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, leaving the classroom to get to your last class of the day. at least today was almost over.

you kept to yourself mostly, having a bad tendency of looking at the floor as you walked, avoiding any and all eye contact. you also zoned out…a lot.

you were mid thought, wanting to go home already, to leave this hell on earth when-

“shit- sorry!” you apologized frantically, your notebook flying out of your hands and onto the floor. you didn’t even know who you were apologizing to until you looked up.

fuck.

of all the people you could have ran into, it had to be him.

“watch where you’re going, christ,” jay scoffed at you, watching you kneel down to pick your notebook up.

“sorry…i wasn’t looking-” you tried, but he cut you off.

“yeah, obviously. fucking klutz,” he rolled his eyes as you stood back up.

you went to walk past him to carry on from this horrible interaction but he had blocked you, putting his arm in front of you and pushing you back.

“hey- wait, what are you doing?” you asked him.

you looked up at him, making eye contact with him, confused, and maybe a little scared.

“i think it’s about time i finally put you in your goddamn place,” he scoffed at you.

you were about to protest or ask a question but you didn’t have time to even gather your thoughts before he was shoving you backwards into a dark and empty room, shutting the door behind the both of you.

“what the fuck are you doing jay?” you asked, more scared of your bully now than you ever have been before.

“easy, doll,” he said, sounding way too calm for the situation he has you in.

he soon enough had you backed to the wall, his hands on your hips as your bodies were impossibly close.

this was…weird, and wrong. so incredibly wrong…but why was it so incredibly hot.

you could feel his breath against your skin as his lips just barely grazed over your neck.

“jay what are you-” you tried, but were cut off when he pressed a harsh kiss to your lips. your eyes were wide open as you tried pushing him away, still confused out of your mind as to what was happening.

“damnit, i said i’m putting you in your place, can’t you listen to me?” he said, his voice low.

as if your body had a mind of it’s own, you nodded. why on earth did you nod.

it wasn’t long before he began to palm at your clothed core, you could feel the heat radiating off of you as you bit back a whine.

“wanted you for so long…” he said, hooking his finger into the waistband of your pants and pulling down.

“gonna finally take what’s mine, right, doll?” he asked, though you knew it wasn’t a question you were meant to answer.

his finger slipped between your folds, made easy by how wet you had become. you cursed your body for being so willing for him, feeling as though you had betrayed yourself.

you whined softly as he leaned in close to your ear, “all that because of me?” he teased.

you had a dying urge to push him off of you, but something inside was screaming to let him keep going.

he played with you for what felt like ages before he finally slipped a finger into your entrance, making your legs nearly buckle.

“already needing my help to stand?” he asked, his free hand on your hip to help support you.

you bit back another whine, “fuck…” you said beneath your breath.

he removed his finger, causing you to whine. it wasn’t long before he grabbed your waist and pushed you over one of the desk’s.

he sucked in a sharp breath as he put your ass on display for him, feeling you up. his cock was practically aching to be let free from his pants.

he palmed himself through the material before shuffling his pants down enough to let his dick free from the restraint.

he rubbed himself against your folds, causing you to whine, and not a thought of stopping him was in your mind, so desperate for his cock and you hadn’t even known until now.

“jay, please…” you whimpered.

“that’s right, beg for it,” he said in a low voice.

“please, need you so bad…” you begged him.

he finally slipped inside of you slowly at first.

you gripped the edge of the desk, feeling your legs threaten to give out as he entered you from behind.

he let out a shaky breath himself, “your pussy feels so tight around me, doll…” he commented, starting to push himself in and out of you.

the noises you had started to let out reminded jay of those from a porno, high pitched, whiny, and so fucking hot.

you couldn’t help but start to try and match his pace, fucking yourself back against him. he held your hips and used you for support, driving himself deeper inside of you.

your eyes rolled back as he moved a hand to the front of your pussy and began to rub at your clit.

“gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over my cock,” he teased, speeding his hips up.

you couldn’t even answer or get a thought straight.

“got you so fucked dumb you can’t even speak, so cock hungry,” he said under his breath.

you could feel yourself getting so close, and you craved your release so desperately.

“jay- oh god- fuck…gonna-” you tried between moans.

“go ahead, cum for me, make a mess,” he told you.

after a few more thrusts, you were coming, your legs shaking, needing his full support to keep you up against the desk. he fucked you through it heavenly and as you clenched around him, he neared his release.

“gonna cum, holy shit,” he panted, fucking you roughly, causing your vision to white out.

he pulled out, fucking his fist to get himself to release before coming over your back and your ass, the sight almost enough to get him hard again.

the two of you caught your breath and cleaned yourselves up in almost complete silence, and before he left, you were about to make a comment until he spoke first.

“watch where you’re walking next time, klutz.”

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, allusions to suicide, morning sickness.

A/N: Okay, I screwed up on some of the timeline. I made a change in chapters 1 and 2 that reader and Daryl met up every 3 days instead of every 6. Also, I adjusted the amount of time between Rick waking up and actually making it to Atlanta. So instead of it being about 9 weeks into the outbreak, we’re about 12-13 weeks in when they are at the CDC. Rick’s timeline was really the only one I could work with, so I hope to hell it makes sense now. Anyway, on with the show!

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

Morning came way too quickly. In an environment where you should have felt at ease and been able to get restful sleep, you were a wreck. After fleeing Daryl’s room, you spent a long while curled up on the bed, folded into yourself as tightly as physically possible. You cried until you were exhausted, your eyes red and sore. In the end, sleep was not merciful enough to take you. 

When the wall you were staring at began to distort and move, you finally deemed it necessary to leave the bed and force yourself to shower. You felt dirty. You had responded so vehemently to Daryl’s advances, quick to repudiate the pressing matter that would most certainly only continue to grow. You couldn’t blame the hunter for your actions. 

With the water running and steam filling the small bathroom, you shed your clothing and stepped beneath the spray. It had been months without a proper shower, the water itself feeling like heaven against your skin. You hadn’t even realized how filthy you truly were until you saw the grimy water swirling at your feet. Scrubbing your skin was something you decided to savor; the same with washing your hair. You shampooed it twice before deciding you had probably abused the hot water rule and reluctantly shut it off. 

The air in the bathroom was humid, still steamy, which made it a little less shocking to step out of the stall. After toweling yourself off, you wiped off the mirror with your hand, taking in your reflection. Circles under your eyes and a more angular look to your face; not sleeping and eating less and less as the world continued to deteriorate. 

The mirror was small so you had to step back to get a look at your body, taking stock of things you hadn’t noticed while in a state of constant stress and fear. Your breasts were tender, but Daryl hadn’t exactly been gentle with them the night before. Other than that, nothing appeared different that could be blamed on pregnancy. You had definitely lost weight as you examined your stomach. Trying to track the days in your head without your calendar, you eventually estimated that you were only about 7 weeks. You would need some sort of book or would eventually need to ask Lori or Carol about the changes you could expect. 

But that would mean telling them. 

As you dressed, you wondered how long you might be able to hide it, assuming Daryl wouldn’t want his comrades to know since even giving them your name had been privileged information as far as he was concerned. 

You left your room as quietly as possible, figuring it was really too early for anyone else to be awake. They would all probably sleep in now that they had the chance. You left your boots off, padding barefoot through the halls to the kitchen. Maybe there was some tea that would help settle your nervous stomach. It was dark, the lights off to conserve power. Pursing your lips, you looked toward the ceiling, feeling a bit ridiculous. 

“VI, could you turn on the lights?”

The response was immediate with soft lighting chasing away the shadows in the room. You raised your brows in shock that the system had operated for you. 

The kitchen was well stocked but you settled with some black tea and an apple. You probably wouldn’t be able to keep anything else down with the relentless nausea. Was this the result of stress or could it be morning sickness?

The silence and solitude helped more than you could have imagined, but all too soon, people began to shuffle in. Most of them appeared to be hung over, especially poor Glenn. To your surprise, almost everyone greeted you and asked how you slept. You dodged the question with a shrug each time. They seemed content with that and moved on to the next person. 

T-Dog came into the cooking area and began digging through the contents of each cabinet and then the refrigerator, obviously intending to make something either for himself or perhaps for everyone. Carol came around to start coffee, offering you a squeeze to the bicep and a gentle smile that you returned. 

You were nearly finished with your tea when the smell wafted through the air, sending your stomach into a revolt. You were quick to cover your mouth and nose, spinning to find T-Dog scrambling eggs. You audibly gagged before your feet moved of their own accord, carrying you quickly toward the door. To make matters worse, you had to bodily maneuver past Daryl to make your escape toward the privacy of your room.

Your meager breakfast was flushed down, the act of bringing it up leaving you more exhausted than you had already been. Maybe spending the day in bed wouldn’t be such a terrible thing. 

You crawled onto the bed, melting into the soft mattress. In pure contradiction to your earlier predicament, your mind went blissfully blank and sleep found you almost immediately. 

You jerked awake to the sound of a small knock at the door. You didn’t feel quite rested but you did feel better. Your stomach still felt uneasy but you didn’t foresee it forcing you to pray to the porcelain god anytime soon. Your body was reluctant to comply with your brain’s order to leave the bed but you soon found yourself in front of the door, pulling it open to meet the concerned face of Carol. 

“Honey, how are you feeling?” She asked softly. 

“I’m okay.” You answered tiredly, leaning against the door. The urge to go back to sleep for the foreseeable future was quite difficult to ignore. 

“I know it’s none of my business but,” the woman dropped her gaze to her wringing hands, “it’s just that I couldn’t stand the smell of eggs when I was expecting Sophia. And I wasn’t just sick in the mornings. It was all the time, which made Ed—well, that doesn’t matter.”

You were already feeling the familiar tightness return to your chest, the uncomfortable fluttering inside your gut. “I—” You couldn’t possibly tell Carol. You hadn’t even told Daryl yet and he was the baby’s father. Still, the way she was looking at you. It was as if she was as desperate to have a friend as you were. “Please don’t tell anyone.” You relented, slumping even further against the door. 

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t. I just figured having someone that understands couldn’t be such a bad thing.” She shrugged with that sweet smile of hers. 

You have no idea. You returned the smile. “Thank you.”

“Here.” She extended a hand, opening her palm to reveal several red and white candies. “Peppermint will sometimes help with morning sickness.” You stared for a moment before accepting, stuffing all but one into your pocket. You quickly unwrapped it and popped it into your mouth, yearning for some relief from the constant waves of nausea. 

“Thanks. Really. You could tell me to sacrifice a chicken while standing on my head and I’d do it at this point.”

Carol covered her mouth and chuckled, the moment hanging briefly before her expression turned suddenly grim. “That isn’t the only reason I came by. I wanted to fill you in on some things Dr. Jenner told us this morning.”

That did not bode well. “Yeah, okay. Come in.” You stepped back and allowed her to enter, closing the door behind her.

Carol had finished retelling Jenner’s explanation and the two of you were sitting in solemn silence when the lights shut off. You figured the other woman was looking as puzzled as you were before the two of you clumsily found the door in the darkness. You opened it to find Dale and Lori in the hallway, others with their heads peeking out of their rooms. 

Footsteps caught your attention just before Jenner passed you by, intercepted by Dale. 

“Why is the air off?”

“And the lights in our room?” Lori added. 

Another door opened, Daryl leaning out with that same bottle of liquor from the night before firmly in his grasp. “What’s goin’ on? Why’s ev’rythin’ turned off?”

Jenner seemed unbothered by the inquiries, casually swiping Daryl’s bottle in passing without missing a beat. “Energy use is being prioritized.”

Dale appeared taken aback. “Air isn’t a priority? And lights?”

Jenner tipped the bottle to his lips for a long swallow. “It’s not up to me. Zone 5 is shutting itself down.” Everyone filed out into the hall and began following the doctor, Daryl yelling at him as they walked. 

Carol touched your arm but you nodded and gave her a gentle push to encourage her to go to her daughter. “I’m gonna put on my boots and I’ll be right behind you.”

Moments later, you entered the big room and started down the stairs to join everyone just as Daryl snatched back the liquor bottle from the doctor. Jenner failed to react, his eyes on Andrea. 

“It was the French.”

The blonde stood puzzled. “What?”

“They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know. While our people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. They thought they were close to a solution.”

Jacqui spoke up as you came to stand next to her. “What happened?”

Jenner was utterly nonplussed. “The same thing that’s happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel.  I mean, how stupid is that?”

Shane stepped forward, his face twisted in anger. “Let me tell you—” 

Rick was quick to interject. “To Hell with it, Shane. I don’t even care. Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff. We’re getting out of here now!”

Jacqui gently took your arm and urged you toward the door. “Oh, okay.” She said. It was obvious she was trying to maintain calm. Meanwhile, your heart was attempting to beat out from behind your ribcage. You barely made it to the middle of the stairs before a shrill alarm began blaring. 

Amidst everyone’s panicked inquiries, the AI sounded overhead. 

Thirty minutes to decontamination.

Daryl was worked up, his posture tense and expression angry. “Doc, what’s going on here?”

Jenner had weaved through the consoles to one on the end, scanning his badge and punching numbers on a keypad. 

Shane continued to rally everyone onward. “Everybody, ya’ll heard Rick!”

Rick joined in the urging. “Get your stuff and let’s go! Go now! Go!” 

Others were shouting as you climbed the remaining stairs and headed for the exit. There was a whirring clang as the door slid shut just before you could reach it. You were trembling, steps on autopilot while your brain raced through every possible outcome of the situation. None of them were pleasant. You didn’t even remember descending the stairs again but found yourself back on the lower level, watching Shane and Rick restrain Daryl. 

You were in shock, only registering key words in the intense conversation happening around you. 

“…locked down…”

“…28 minutes…”

“…catastrophic power failure…”

“…it sets the air on fire…”

Daryl ran past you with an axe, threatening the man that had just condemned you all to die.

And then, as Daryl was being held back and everyone shouted and cried, the doctor was speaking directly to you. 

“You. You don’t want to bring that innocent baby into this nightmare. This is a mercy.”

Your eyes widened and immediately sought out Daryl, who had gone still and silent. T-Dog was able to pull the axe away from him, the redneck being too busy staring back at you, his expression equal parts anger and shock. 

“You’re pregnant?” Dale exclaimed, releasing his hold on Daryl. 

“You do want this! All of you!” Jenner secured everyone’s attention with the exception of you and Daryl. 

While the pandemonium dragged on, the two of you were frozen. Your eyes pleaded with him to understand. He had no way of knowing how long you had known; whether or not you had lied about taking a test. He was only aware that you knew and you didn’t tell him. He was breathing fast through his nose, nostrils flaring. 

When he finally looked away, it felt as if your bones turned to jelly. You slid down in front of one of the stations and pulled your knees to your chest, fighting off yet another episode of panicked emotion. 

Distantly, you were aware of things happening around you. A shot was fired. The axe was hitting the door again. Everyone was yelling, pleading. 

Jenner hadn’t been offering you a medical alternative. He was telling you that this was going to happen. You could have warned everyone. You could have done something!

Now, everyone was going to die. You were going to die. Your baby was going to die. Your choice was made for you and the only thing you could think was that it was not the choice you would have made. You wanted this baby, Daryl or no Daryl. You wanted the chance to be a mother. You wanted your baby to have a chance. 

Feet began to pass by in front of you, but you were slow to respond, only looking up when someone grabbed your upper arm. 

Blue eyes. Angry, concerned, panicked blue eyes. 

“Get up.” Daryl ordered, hauling you to your feet. His hand slid down your arm to your wrist, and he pulled you along behind him. When you reached the hallway of rooms, he let go. “Get your bag.” You watched him start to walk away but found yourself still unable to make your feet move. Daryl snarled and ran back to you, grabbing your shoulder to give you a none-too-gentle shake. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, eyes blazing but voice calmer. “Y/N. Get your bag.”

It only took a heartbeat, but finally, you nodded and pulled away from him. You only had the clothes from the day before to grab and shove inside the bag. You had to shuffle around in the dark but somehow, you successfully gathered your things and stepped out into the hall just as Daryl was approaching. He still had the axe in one hand, his crossbow hanging from one shoulder and his pack from the other. 

“Go. Go, go!” He threw out his hand to urge you forward. This time, you didn’t hesitate. You met up with the group,  gathering at the front doors. They were still sealed. While the men were trying to break the glass of a large window, you noticed missing faces. Hoping you weren’t overstepping your boundaries, you laid a hand on Lori’s shoulder. 

“Not everyone’s here.” You felt stupid once the words were out. Of course she knew people were missing. They were her people. Surprisingly, she just gave you a mournful look and shook her head. What did that mean? Your expression shifted to disbelief. Unless Jenner had killed them or sealed the doors with them still inside with him, they had a chance. You had to go get them. You had to help. You had to—

“Get down!” You heard Daryl yell just before he dragged you to the floor, shielding you with his body. The surface beneath you vibrated, glass shards scattering across the lot of you. “C’mon!” He pulled you along again, this time by your hand.  

“Wait!” You yelled, your sudden stop causing him to lurch backward. The hunter growled in annoyance as you stopped to pick up his crossbow and bag. He didn’t take your hand again but you were right behind him, careful of the swinging axe when he took a walker’s head clean off.

Everyone sought shelter in the separate vehicles, Daryl leading you straight to his truck and opening the driver’s side door while snatching the weapons and bags to toss them carelessly in the back. “In! Get in!” He was almost shoving you while you scrambled inside and tried to cross into the passenger seat to give him room. However, his fingers snagged the back of your shirt and pulled you back toward him while, at the same time, he closed the door. You were pushed down toward the floorboards with Daryl’s body covering you once again. 

The explosion was massive. The truck rocked violently; the blast so loud that it left your ears ringing. You felt Daryl’s weight shift before it was gone completely, his hands on your arms to help you up into the seat even as he stared out the window. You followed his line of sight and gasped. The building had all but disintegrated. Cars, trucks, tanks: just gone. You felt only a slight relief at seeing Glenn wave Andrea and Dale into the RV. Maybe Jacqui was in there too. You weren’t a part of their group, but they were living breathing people. And that meant they mattered. 

“Hey.” You slowly turned your head toward Daryl, his hands patting down your arms, your face, your stomach. The concern he was showing was odd but not unwelcome. “Y’alright? Hurt anywhere?”

You shook your head. “No. No, I’m okay.” And right before your eyes, his expression morphed and twisted into bitter anger. 

“Good. Best sit there an’ just be quiet.” His voice was low, bordering on threatening. He started up the engine, cracking his neck while his eyes burned into the vehicle in front of the truck. 

“Daryl, I was gonna—”

“Did I stutter or ya just hard’a hearin’?” He roared, not even looking your way. 

You took in a deep breath, fighting back the tears with everything you had. You had fucked up, that was true. Maybe you deserved his wrath but you’d accept it with grace. Well, you would at least try. If there was any hope at all of fixing this—of getting through it at least civilly—you would need to let him cool down. 

As Daryl turned the truck around, pulling up the rear of the caravan, you watched the column of black smoke from what once was the CDC spiral up to layer across the Atlanta sky. 

[alessiasfreckles]

Lonely

Lucy Bronze & reader (platonic)

after moving to barcelona, everything is hard; the language, your anxiety, the loneliness. after a particularly rough day, lucy finds you crying in the changing room and is determined to help.

A/N: based off of this ask! i tried to make it different enough to Fitting In but still along the same vein, i hope you like it ✨

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

The sun was shining, it was a beautiful (albeit a bit cold) day in Barcelona, you were playing for one of the best women’s football teams in the world, and everything was perfect.

Well, it should have been. You knew that. Really, there was no reason for you to be anything but happy. When friends and family back home asked you how you were getting on, you told them about the gorgeous scenery, the weather, and how much fun you were having. It wasn’t all a lie, the scenery really was incredible, and the weather was nicer than it was in England, at the very least. 

But, if you were being honest? Things were really fucking hard. 

You were trying to learn Spanish, really, you were, but languages had never been your thing. Everyone had told you before you left that “it’ll be easy, once you’re surrounded by it!”. Bullshit. You went through the day understanding single words and phrases here and there, but for the most part, it was like your brain just shut off when people started talking. 

The language issue, of course, didn’t exactly help your social situation. You’d always found it hard to make friends, even in your native language. Trying to do it in a whole other language felt like an impossible task. The team tried to be welcoming, of course, but most of the time your brain was too exhausted from trying to keep up with the language for you to socialise. The other international players helped a little and would translate things for you sometimes, but you were the newest recruit and everyone else’s Spanish was miles better than yours. You could tell that the other players were making an effort to speak Spanish, some even learning Catalan, and you didn’t want to be the stereotypical English speaking person who couldn’t be bothered to speak the language of the country they were in. So, when everyone would burst out laughing at something Aitana said, you laughed along, hoping no one would catch on to the fact that you hadn’t understood it. 

You had hoped to become friends with Lucy and Keira, thinking that it would be nice to have at least a couple other English players to talk to, but they seemed so settled in their lives here that you felt like you were intruding. Lucy spent a lot of time with the Spanish girls and seemed to talk Spanish, or at least a mix of Spanish and English, most of the time, and Keira did the same. Even when you had the opportunity to talk to them, your social anxiety would flare up, and you’d find yourself overthinking and debating what to say for so long that by the time you’d decided, the moment had passed. 

So, you kept to yourself, mostly. You spent a lot of time observing your teammates, their interactions with one another. Trying to figure out how you could interact with them, then losing the courage to do so. 

Your teammates felt bad, they could tell that you hadn’t settled in and that you were the outsider of the group, but with so much training and all of the games the team had, it was all too easy to forget about everything outside of football.

That’s how, on that beautiful day in Barcelona, after a particularly tough training session, you found yourself crying in an empty changing room. You’d waited until everyone went home, stalling and saying you wanted to run a few more laps. Once the changing room was empty, you collapsed on a bench, staring into space, not even aware of the tears beginning to stream down your face. You were so tired of having to try so hard all the time, and if you were honest, you were really lonely. 

The door to the changing room bangs open, making you jump, and you look up to see Lucy standing there carrying a box of towels. The look of surprise on her face quickly changes to one of concern when she realises you’re crying, as you quickly try to wipe away your tears, white-hot embarrassment flooding your body.

“Woah, y/n, are you okay? What’s wrong, do you need me to get someone?” Lucy asks, putting the box on the bench closest to her. She stays by the door, looking like she’s not sure whether to come closer and comfort you or to leave to get help.

“Um, no, it’s okay, I’m okay,” you say, sniffing a little and laughing awkwardly. “I’m fine, seriously. Don’t worry about it.”

The brunette raises an eyebrow as she comes closer and lets the door swing shut. “Yeah, right, pull the other one. Clearly something’s not okay, or else you wouldn’t be sat here, crying, alone.”

“Yeah, I guess you got me there,” you smile weakly. “But really, it’s okay. It’s nothing.”

“If it’s upsetting you, it’s not nothing,” she says firmly, sitting down next to you. “What’s going on?”

You shrug, not wanting to burden her with your problems and not sure where to start. “It’s just a lot, sometimes, y’know?”

She nods sympathetically. “The language?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m trying, I really am, but it’s just so hard, and I don’t know, maybe I’m not trying hard enough, but I am trying, really-”

“Hey,” she interrupts you, placing a hand on your back. “It’s okay. It is hard. Everyone can see that you’re trying.”

“Really?” you say, doubt clouding your mind. “Because I feel like I understand way less than everyone thinks I do. Most of the time I’m just copying other people’s reactions, or nodding along.”

She laughs. “Yeah, I did that at first, too. It gets easier after a while, I promise.”

“I’m not sure it will. I don’t-”, you start, breaking off as you struggle to figure out what you wanted to say. “I don’t know how to do a lot of social stuff. Talking to people. I can’t even handle it in English most of the time, to be honest. I feel like even without the language problem, there’s the me problem.”

She lets out a laugh at that, but it’s not a mean one. “What do you mean, a you problem?”

“The me problem,” you explain. “I feel like I’m like, an alien or something. I don’t know how to behave, how to be a real human like the rest of you.” 

At that, she puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you to be facing her. “Y/n,” she says, a serious look on her face. “You’re a real human.”

“No, I know that I’m a real human,” you roll your eyes, letting out a small giggle. Lucy smiles, glad to have made you laugh. “I just don’t feel like it sometimes. I don’t know how to interact with people. Like, what do people talk about? What do people do when they’re hanging out? It was fine with my friends back home, because we’ve known each other forever, they know what I’m like and I know what they’re like. But here, it’s all so… different.”

Lucy stands, holding out a hand to you. When you take it she pulls you up, a determined look on her face. “Right, well, it sounds like we have to get you feeling more comfortable here. So, you’re going to come back to my place, we’re going to play something on the Playstation or watch something on TV, and tonight a couple of the girls are coming over. But only a couple, and I’ll tell them that we’re having an English night, no speaking Spanish allowed, alright?”

“Oh, no, it’s okay, I don’t want to be a bother-” you start, but she quickly cuts you off.

“Nonsense!” she says, swinging an arm around your shoulder. “We look out for each other on this team. You’re a part of the team, y/n. So we’ll look out for you too. Got it?”

You nod, feeling nervous but excited, even hopeful. 

And she was right. It ended up being one of the best evenings you’d had in a long time, and it wasn’t long before you started to feel like you really were not just a part of the team, but a part of the family. “English” nights even became a regular thing, the Spanish and other international players eager for a chance to practise their English even more (not that they had to, it seemed like they were all basically fluent). Lucy and Keira tried to help you with the language, giving you their tips. Honestly? Their tips weren’t much help, and it was still pretty hard. But as difficult as it was, you had to admit that, slowly but surely, it was all getting easier, especially with friends by your side.

[wolven91]

Cooking For Humans

Nepeltor loved cooking.

As an esquinine, she was drawn to the more pleasant hobbies in life, both for her own happiness and other people's, more so than the average being. She found great joy in being able to provide a service to others that caused such a positive emotional surge. As a strong natural psychic, she had the ability to 'sip' at strong emotions and enjoy them as a one would a drink.

For the unshielded, she was exposed to all emotions, but it was the greater ones, or those felt more strongly that she recognised above the usual din.

Anger, frustration, disgust, or hatred were the ones she avoided where she could, instead deliberately seeking out positive ones instead.

A favoured pass time was lingering near spaceport greeting lounges where long lost partners, families or friends would meet again, rush into one another's arms and embrace with an outpouring of love, joy and relief. It was like standing just off from a planet's coast, until the water reached her shoulders. The ebb and flow of the water would rock her back and forth. Likewise, the relief of seeing one that you had missed was enough for her to physically waver, stood in the middle of the expansive room.

That was until she happened to be in the same café as a human when they got their meal. The creature was one of the new additions, and seemingly was mentally grumbling that they had not eaten anything other than nutrient cubes for a while. Nepeltor grimaced herself, she'd lived off nutrient cubes once; tasteless, boring and a chore to eat. No wonder the human relished the middling quality meal as if it was fine dining.

The esquinine telepath had met no other race in the cosmos that seemed to have such a reaction to their meal.

Even before they started on their plate, the anticipation bled into her readily. When the first bite was taken, she was glad she was seated as the sheer, unadulterated, euphoria that washed over her and hit like a tidal wave. Each bite blinded her like no other. Not even the ursidains could match the depths of the emotion's the human was feeling at this second.

It was the very next day, Nepeltor applied for her culinary licence.

Just short of a year later, she applied for a location for a new food stall on the station. Directly next to the new arrivals exit.

She didn't need much, in the end just space for 5 or so mid-sized creatures... 'humans' she hoped. They were rare, but she noticed a steady appearance of one or two as they made their way across. This station must have been one of the secretive layovers for the valuable species.

Her stall was barely more than a hot plate and space for her ingredients behind the counter, with a bench in front and an eating shelf for the customers.

Perhaps it would be frowned upon to have stolen an idea from the human. Perhaps they would have agreed to give their permission if she had asked, but in the end, Nepeltor made a new meal that was a human specialty in the hope it would lure the new species in with tastes of their former home. 'Noodles', chives, meat and an egg. Throw in some other bits and bats before serving with a smile.

It was several weeks before the first human appeared. By then she was fully invested in her work and had been forced to plan a handful of other stalls opening, manned by hires. The human 'noodles' were a hit, a brand new taste sensation in a galaxy that had tried 'everything' already.

The esquinine at this point wasn't thinking that a human would arrive, instead focusing on her work of slicing vegetables ready for the next fresh pot. She had served the two newcomers as she had anyone else, with barely a thought thanks to the rush.

"God I'm starving!"

"I know, can't get a good meal anywhere here, did that guy genuinely suggest we eat rocks?"

The first voice replied but was muffled as he slurped a heaping of noodles into his mouth.

"At least this place has normal foo-" His dramatic halt gave pause for the other human, before the one that had taken a bite 'mm'd in pleasure as he immediately began eating with gusto.

Nepeltor however, was rocked out of her zen 'flow' state of working and knew instantly that she had done well. From a gnawing hunger radiating from the other side of the counter, like a grenade exploding right in front of her face; a mixture of desire, greed, pleasure and even love bloomed in front of her until she stumbled and had to lean against her counter just to stop her knees from buckling.

What was interesting was that over time, one by one, each human ended up emitting the same few handfuls of emotions, which was an experience every time and not only did they love her food, there was a hint that they had associated her with her food and she herself was the target of their outpouring of positive emotions. It was directed at her, rather than just passive.

In the end she became famous amongst humans traveling that route.

She had the opportunity to expand, become an administrator, be rich and never have to work again with her stalls setting up shop everywhere, but she would lose access to be there when they took that first bite with ecstasy. Not to mention, if she expanded too much, she would be less likely to see the humans if they weren't forced to come see her and her stall specifically.

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Three

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Ah this took ages to write but I actually really loved it- finally they meet!! Hopefully I got a few things about Detroit right too but I don't live there so lemme know if not! Also I appreciate all the love the last two parts have gotten, means a lot!

Warnings: Some heavier topics surrounding a rough childhood and abuse of substances.

Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2 || Em’s daughters are renamed here because it felt weird not to and also have different ages– doesn’t affect the story much but just a warning! Rosie's nickname is also Z:)

Masterlist

It was far too early to be up. Especially after the night I’d just had, tossing and turning until I’d eventually passed out from sheer exhaustion. Something I hadn’t quite anticipated after my call with Em, but sleep had seemed near enough impossible once I’d hung up. No real reason as to why, simply that my mind had gone from a dull sluggish buzz to over-fucking-load in a mere matter of seconds.

Thankfully I had a flight to catch which meant that, even though I looked like my mum after another week long bender, I would be able to catch a little sleep before landing in Detroit. 

Detroit. That was the singular thought my tired mind kept pausing on. Stupidly, it felt just like yesterday that Marshall had first bridged that gap between us and phoned me, only it had been weeks since then, during which the most unexpected friendship had blossomed. He’d called again that next day and the timezones separating us had been made all that more obvious, him having not long dropped his daughter off at school whilst I’d been returning from lunch. He never really had given me the real reason as to why he’d gone and gotten in touch again so quickly, only that he’d wanted to double check that I was still down to fly out and work on a song or two. 

It hadn’t phased me. Neither had the next few calls that had followed, nor the texts that I’d found myself composing to him at odd hours of the day. 

We’d spoken about music at first: “Who inspires you?” He’d asked me which had led into a ramble. Something I only ever tended to do with those who knew me best, never having really mastered the whole art of social interaction yet, even after the fame. But he’d let me go on, before I’d eventually spun the question back around on him and listened quietly to a passionate speech about the handful of artists that had transported him out of the tiny room he’d grown up in and into something other.

I mentioned my sister after that. Em had heard her shouting at the tele one evening whilst she’d played some game that always seemed to bring out her most profane language and laughed, asking after the roaring gremlin in the background. I’d told him bits and pieces, added to the story in odd quips and mentions over the passing weeks, enough that most wouldn’t quite catch on to what I’d been avoiding, but Lottie had been around more often than not and the man had quickly worked out that she lived with me. He’d never outright asked me the reason as to why, though I liked to think that he was simply waiting for me to tell him, because this thing that we had, it was all about building trust. And Marshall? He was almost as unforgiving with who he gave that out to as I was. 

Soon enough our calls and Facetimes had become a featured part of my day, one I actually looked forward to. But even saying that, I was still shit scared of meeting him properly.

As much as it might humour him for me to admit it, I was a big fan of his. Had been since I’d first heard Guilty Conscience when it had hit the UK charts. I’d been swallowed whole by the rest of his LP, had even nicked a cd copy of it off a stall down at the market, alongside Aquemini, because I’d liked it so much. In truth, one of my earliest memories even featured the man. It was of my uncle bagging tickets to Em’s first real show down in Notting Hill, his girlfriend at the time’s brother having managed to somehow score a couple on a whim. It had been all they’d talked about for weeks on end.

I’d been around long enough now though– having dived headfirst into the industry before dipping a toe in first– that I knew just how meeting your icons wasn’t all it was chalked up to be. Still, this felt different to us just bumping into one another at some show or a party. And, who was I kidding– it was entirely different. Impossibly so. I’d said it to him then and I’d reiterate it again, he had been the last person I had ever expected to call.

“Passengers boarding the 09:53 flight to Detroit, Michigan please head to Gate B7.”

I sucked in a deep breath at the overhead announcement, figuring that it really was now or never. Two weeks in a big old house working on music with Eminem, I supposed stranger things had to have happened. So instead of lingering on the inane concept, I popped an anti-sickness tablet and dragged my carry-on over towards the gate. 

…

Truth be told, I much would have preferred not having slept on that flight. God, I was still embarrassed, but even so I couldn’t help the muted giggle that bypassed my lips whilst I waited for my luggage to drift on by. 

I was just thankful that I’d had the foresight to wear a hat and sunnies the entire time. Mostly out of habit, yes, but also so that I could keep this whole Detroit trip hush hush, because Marshall really had gone above and beyond to bring me out here and so I didn’t want to reward him with a swarm of unwanted questions. Not that anyone would even add up the notion of me being here and allude that it was down to him. That was probably the most unlikely headline somebody could conjure up.

But back to the whole Flight from Hell. Well, I had the tendency to sometimes be dramatic so not Hell per se, it had just been humiliating. Being shaken awake only to realise you'd been drooling the entire time and the rest of the passengers had already disembarked was more than a tad bit mortifying, especially when the air steward’s eyes had widened a fraction when I’d tried to sort myself out and wake up. 

I wasn’t entirely sure if he’d recognised me, or if it had just been down to the fact that Marshall had put me in First Class— a matter which I had complained about, justifiably— and that I had one of those faces he couldn’t put a name to. But either way, I hoped he wouldn’t expand too much on it.

I caught sight of my suitcase just as it pushed its way through the heavy black flaps on the end of the conveyor belt and so I slid past a man in a bright green Packers jersey to grab at it. And even I had to wince at the sight of the offending article. In all places, really? I wanted to ask. Wrong fucking move there, mate. 

By the time I finally did make it out of the crowd that had amassed, it had been near enough an hour since I’d landed and so I had a few messages waiting patiently for me.

Messages  The Martian Blacked out GMC parked out front Tap twice on the back window

Then…

Flight ok?

My mouth quirked upwards on its own accord at the quick relay but I was quick to shoot something back.

Messages  Might have passed tf out Woke up and it was just me and the steward there:))) Also tap twice?? Do I look like James Bond to you?

Although I had to Google what the fuck a GMC looked like, I did eventually work my way out of the terminal to spot the sleek SUV sat a way down in the drop off zone. ‘Course he’d have his driver park there, I thought pointlessly to myself as I manoeuvred past a handful of tired faces with a polite smile. Though to him it was probably easier to deal with whatever fine he got plastered with than it would be for me to attempt to find the thing in pickup parking. Not that it would be all that hard, it was huge.

Anyway, by the time I managed to hone in closer on the vehicle I felt my nose scrunch up in slight embarrassment at the thought of having to knock twice, as though I really was some sort of spy or, more than likely, a dodgy dealer. But just as I approached, prepped to knock and give the driver my name, I heard the far side door open and a pair of shoes hit the rough tarmac. 

Jumping back a tad, my head swivelled left to better view the figure who was then rounding the car. My eyes widened at the sight I was met with.

His smirk at my evident shock was ascued by a heavy hood and the brim of a dark cap, but it was there. Stayed there actually, all whilst he easily manoeuvred my luggage from out of my hands and into the boot of his car, whilst I simply stood there stock-still. Eventually, he came to stand before me about an arms length away. I blinked and my gaze skittered over the rest of our surroundings before they finally returned to his tilted head and piercing eyes. His back was turned towards the airport, away from the trio which had since grouped around their suitcases to wait and a handful of people that exited the terminal one or two at a time.

“What, I don’t get no hug?”

The mirthful lilt of his deep voice surprised me and my mouth worked over a plethora of words that couldn’t quite take stage before I was laughing softly into the shoulder of his jacket, his arms coming up to wrap around me. 

It felt oddly surreal to finally meet him, even if I had been so caught off guard by his sudden presence.

In fact, I jolted back at the very thought and thumped his arm, my eyes narrowed even whilst my smile never appeared to falter. “Why are you here?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, arm moving to cradle the offended limb in sly mocking, before he huffed out a low laugh. “No, hello? No, wow, Marshall, I can’t believe you’re really here!”

My mouth gaped at the teasing tone he took on, much like something I’d heard on one of his songs, and then I was laughing too, shaking my head at his antics. “That’s how we’re playing this?” I quirked a brow, but eventually mimicked, “Wow, Marshall. Gee golly, I just can’t believe that you’re really here!”

Marshall dipped his chin in supposed approval, gentle eyes roaming over my face in a way similar to what I must have done when he’d first arrived. I wondered briefly what he saw but hastily brushed the thought aside. “The American accent still sucks, by the way.” He acknowledged just as he stepped forward to open the passenger side door, surprising me yet again as he slipped by me, “So if you’re goin’ into acting, take note.”

My glare was mocking at best, lacking any real heat as he waited for me to climb inside, it was only once I’d glanced back at him with a thankful smile that he moved to shut the door. I took in a sharp lungful of air at the quiet that then engulfed the car and watched him move around the front of the hood. He was achingly familiar and yet not at the same time. And it was such a strange thought to latch onto that I took the initiative to just take things as they came over the next few weeks, which turned out to work in my favour when he joined me in the car and the engine revved.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here.” I found myself saying as he slowly peeled his way out of the drop off bay. “Thought you said you’d have someone come get me.”

Em simply shook his head whilst I observed how his hands slid around the wheel with an effortless ease. “I said there’d be a car.”

My eyes widened to accentuate my point. “Exactly! There’d be a car! So I just figured a cab or something.”

His eyes flickered over towards me just as we came to a stop at the busy intersection outside the airport, then pulled away to look left and right again. “Well, you should stop figuring then.”

I couldn’t stop the eye roll I gifted him, even as I laughed heartily to myself and took in the comfort of privacy the car offered, as opposed to the flight I’d just been stuck on. It was then, whilst we merged onto the highway and followed into the flow of traffic, that I got the chance to really look at him. 

I was still attempting to get over my evident shock, having expected to meet him much later on, once I’d been dropped off at the house or maybe even a while after that. But it was nice to know that he’d driven all the way here to merely pick me up when he could have just as easily sent someone to do it for him. 

Marshall looked about the same as he had when we’d first phoned in truth, only it was easier now to see all of the minute details he offered the world, those tiny imperfections. 

The slight dip in his chin was much more prominent now what with the way his lips had since pursed in concentration. The skin there was smooth, as though not much time had passed since it had last been seen to by a razor, and it wrinkled only around his eyes when they narrowed into focus. His nose was pointed, whilst simultaneously being both strong and soft. He had eyelashes that I could only envy, dark and long, and freckles light enough to dot both sides of his face.

He must have felt my gaze on him though because he soon chanced a glance back at me with a single raised brow. My eyes slid away from his profile and instead I opted to gesture my chin out towards the tinted windows that encased us. “These legal?” I had wondered, but mostly asked just to steer his mind away from me having been caught staring.

With a short snort, his brow dropped and the beginnings of a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “What d’you think?”

I chuckled in retort, having expected that, and then looked away again, out towards the grassy verge that separated the long stretch of road from small grey buildings that littered both sides in the distance. It was my first time in Detroit and I wanted to make the most of it, remember every part.

It was quiet for a while after that, Em having switched on the radio at some point after asking after my flight, the two of us more than content to just let the silence linger around the hum of something so familiar, music.

He pointed things out to me here and there on the journey, nothing of real importance but dropping comments that would either make me hum or laugh loudly. He was a funny fucker even when he didn’t seem to be trying, I figured that was what I liked best about him. 

We drove through Downtown Detroit at one point and I listened intently when he spoke about Ford Field, the home of his favoured Lions, and again when we stopped at a traffic light and he gestured over towards where the Fox Theatre sat. Even during the daylight it drew the eye.

Once we’d rolled away from the inner city and its skyscrapers though I felt myself relax further, pleased by the vast amount of green that I started to see. Most of the time I’d spent in The States often left me confined to the major cities, to their bustling crowds and hectic commutes, mostly because I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, what with venues and tours, interviews and recording sessions. So this would probably be the first time I’d get to see a slice of the country’s suburbs and it wasn’t all too different from what you’d typically see back home. Not exact sure, but similar in a lot of circumstances. 

It took me a while to realise that Em had been nodding his head along to the radio, following the beat in an exact tempo. The sight had me hiding my grin behind my sleeve but the move captured his attention and he must have seen the growing joy my glazed eyes gave away to when he peered over at me because his forehead furrowed. “What?”

Instantly I shook my head, “Nothing.”

His eyes darted out towards the road, shifting gears before the back of his hand shot out to tap the side of my knee. “What?” He prodded again and I was startled by the easy nature of his touch, remembering then that it was possible now that we weren’t stuck between screens.

I snorted softly, dropping my arm seeing as he’d already caught on to the grin. “Just strange, is all. Being here.”

I watched closely as he gave a slow blink and waited, propping my arm up against the window whilst slumping a little in my seat.

“Good weird, or bad?”

The answer had to have been obvious and yet, I still answered him, “The good kind.”

“Good.” He hummed and my grin softened at his own small smile. It remained there for most of the drive. 

I didn’t know what I had expected to see once we finally did pull up to the house, but it didn’t fail to live up to its owner's accomplishments. It was beautiful, big yes, but beautiful too. Terracotta in colour and with a long gravel driveway. He had trees and flowers around the fenced gate to further keep out any prying eyes, but they were vivid and lush. Pretty to admire. 

Marshall turned towards me once we’d slowed to a stop and I smiled, unbuckling my seatbelt before he huffed a chuckle, turning off the engine and moving to do the same. The door shut behind me once I’d jumped out and I let myself breathe in the change of air. Having been cooped up in the Big Apple for the last few days it was refreshing to be able to actually enjoy it and not just think about all of the heavy city fumes. 

I was quick to snap out of it though when I heard the slight beep that sounded from the back of the car when the boot reopened. “Hey, I can get that.”

Marshall's eyes cut over towards my approaching figure. “So can I.” He tugged the heavy suitcase out with one hand, “See?”

“Mature, Mathers.” I retorted, leaning past him to at least grab my carry on, but he was there too, our hands clutched the handle at the same time, his encasing mine. “I can get it.” I repeated, turning slightly in my stance to lift my brows up at him. 

He was close, thigh pressing into the ledge of the boot whilst his other hand still held onto the door stationed above our heads. “You’re my guest.”

His tone was gruff, low enough for only me to have heard, even though there wasn’t anyone else mulling about. My eyes shifted, flickering back and forth between his own. “Then let your guest get their way.” 

He blew out an amused breath, the weight of it fanned my face and had a few loose strands of hair fluttering. “You’re so fuckin’ stubborn.”

I shifted and his knee knocked against mine. “Here’s the pot calling the kettle black.” I quipped with a growing smile.

There was the slightest shake of his head, his mouth twitched, and then he was leaning in closer. I held my breath. Waiting. For God knows what, when—

He snatched the bag out from under my hand.

“Marshall!” It was almost indignant the yell I made, shocked by the sly move he’d played and the fact that he’d already jumped back to make his way towards the front door before I could even properly react. I heard his bright laughter echo back to mock me.

“Too slow.” Marshall called in turn, shrugging as he shot a smug look over his shoulder. “Lock her up for me?”

The tap he then gave his right trouser pocket evidently had me frowning and so I looked down on impulse, only to spot a set of keys dangling from the belt loop on my jeans. Baffled, my head snapped upwards, just in time to see him laugh and wheel my suitcase inside.

I took a deep breath, then let it go.

“Such a prick.” I muttered to myself, though not unkindly, as I jumped up to grab the boot door and slam it shut, using the fob to then lock the monster truck up.

By the time I made it up the rest of the drive and through the front door I was a little less peeved about the whole thing, which was mostly down to me having been a little humoured by his methods of undermining.

“You treat all your supposed guests like this?” I blew out.

Marshall only greeted my entry with a snort. “Uhuh, that initiation we talked about? Starts here.”

Rolling my eyes, I stepped further into the entryway to observe, making the effort not to gape at the sheer size of it. Because in truth, he could’ve easily fit a half a dozen Harleys in the space between the door and the stairs.

“Where do we start the sacrifice then? Can’t imagine anyone would be all too happy about staining these pretty floors.” My toe skimmed a stark white tile as I said it, peering over at him through my lashes whilst I thought back to an earlier conversation we’d had and the fact that he’d actually remembered. 

“Basement, baby!” 

He used the term in ridicule, to accentuate the gaiety in the back and forth we’d just begun. His hands shot out wide in a gesticulative fashion and so I used the moment to grab at the handle of my suitcase he’d left by the door, thankful that the thing had wheels. I grinned at the small victory.

“You were saying?” I dragged out around a pleased smile.

Marshall shook his head at me, like he actually couldn’t believe I’d attempted to one up him— and managed it. Though he thankfully left it alone. Still, that was probably only due to the fact that he then said, “Want a tour?”

And who was I to deny?

“If you don’t want me getting lost, then yes please.”

He scoffed, but wore the ghost of a smile as he pushed further into the house, leading me this way and that until we finally wandered up another set of stairs onto the second floor.

“Bedrooms are there.” Marshall pointed out to me, hands stretched towards both the halls that lined either side of the staircase. “Mine’s just down here, Z’s too.” He explained further, gesturing towards the two doors on the far right side, Rosie’s bore a bright sign with her name and I was humoured to see that the usual silver handle had been switched out in favour of a neon pink.

He caught my slight smile at the sight of the door and nudged me with his shoulder.

“Quit it.”

I snorted softly, pursing my lips to dampen the grin I wore. “I didn’t say anything! But I do love it.” Honestly it was too cute seeing him all mushy like that, and the fact that he’d gone out of his way to make something like a door handle special for his daughter was endearing.

Marshall grunted out a hum, then took a deliberate step over toward a room a little closer, the door had been left slightly ajar. He pushed it open to reveal a room that could have resembled a hotel room had it not been for the much warmer sense of comfort it offered. I reckoned it was down to the little souvenirs and decorative pieces that had been jotted around the place, like the snowglobe of Big Ben and a little British flag, as well as the articles of clothing which had been laid out on the bed.

My attention caught on those first and I glanced back at Em, who was now leaning against the doorframe, to ask a silent question. The man shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t pressed to the wood and suddenly looked a tad bit sheepish, “Rosie’s idea. Wanted to give you something, like, so you’d feel welcome or some shit.”

I let my fingers brush over the pyjama’s the little girl must have picked out. They were soft and dotted with tiny woodland creatures, bunnies and berries. My heart ached at the lovely gesture, never really having had anyone do something like this for me, let alone someone so small and sweet who had gone out of their way to make me feel welcomed of all things.

“You lucked out with her.” I murmured  and was granted a doting smile when I peered back up at the girl’s father.

“She’s aight.” Marshall reasoned, pushing out a small breath as he took a step further into the bedroom. “Room okay then?”

Smiling, almost a little stupidly, I chuckled in disbelief and took another peer around the room. “It’s perfect, thank you again for this.”

He rolled his eyes at me and made a gah sound, “Say thanks again and I’ll take you to the nearest motel.”

My eyes widened just as my jaw dropped, “A motel, really? Wow, and here I thought we were truly bonding.”

“You know what they say, don’t assume.”

Narrowing my stare into something a bit more intense I waited for him to crack, but he must have been half-alien or something because the man held his own much longer than I did. “You’re such a dick.” I eventually chuckled, shaking my head.

“Get used to it,” He retorted and stepped away to wheel my suitcase further into the room, placing my bag down on the end of the plush bedspread. “You tired? Figured we could grab something to eat once Z’s home if you’re down.” 

It was something I was used to, the whole jumping back and forth between serious and teasing, but I still found it sweet how he would tend to ask after me, simply to make sure that everything was still good.

I hummed in reply and took one last look at the pyjamas I'd been gifted. “I’m good, slept on the flight–”

“And drooled all over them First Class seats.” He butted in, earning himself a short glare which only proved to make him grin. 

I should have known to have kept that shit to myself, fucker would probably lord it over my head forever.

“Uhuh, hilarious.” I deadpanned before continuing on like he hadn’t interrupted, “What’re you thinking of getting?”

The question went unanswered because it was then that the front door sounded, creaking open on its heavy hinges before it rattled closed. I jumped at the unexpected noise whilst Em simply glanced back over his shoulder, “That’ll be her.” He commented, confusing me for a second when he raised his hand and started a countdown on his fingers, “3, 2, 1–”

“Dad!”

I snorted at the precise timing, Marshall already moving towards the door at the call of his name and so I went to follow. It was just as we made it back out onto the hallway’s landing that he paused, “I can keep her occupied for a while if you wanna settle in, take a nap or something.”

It was an offer and a half from any parent to attempt to keep their kid at bay, I mean I’d done it a fair few times with an excitable Lottie over the years, but I waved it off, smiling when the girl’s voice called out again. “Dad?”

Marshall leaned in closer, hand clutching the bannister, and lowered his voice whilst his face got all serious, “Get out whilst you still can.”

Huffing out a mirthful breath, I couldn’t quite hide my smile. “I’m good, I'm actually excited to meet her.”

He paused and observed me for a moment, as though he was trying to see the truth behind that sentiment, which made me unsure. But I hoped he did find the sincerity in my words because it hadn’t been a lie, I was nervous to meet his daughter sure, wanted her to like me and not feel as though I was suddenly imposing on her life, but I had genuinely enjoyed her witty remarks and scathing comments when we had spoken the night before. She reminded me of a little of a younger Lotts. 

Em eventually nodded at me, cheek dimpling ever so in a possible attempt to dampen his reaction, but before I could question it, the man was jogging down the stairs. “Up here, you monster. And what I tell you ‘bout yellin’?”

A familiar face poked its way out of the hall at the bottom of the staircase and the smile that dawned on it was beaming when she spotted her dad. “How are you gonna hear me if I don’t yell?” She replied, squealing when the man swept her up off feet and into a hug, peppering a line of kisses into her hair, “Dad!”

Marshall snorted at the reaction he’d garnered but eventually lowered the girl back down onto her feet, whilst I just stood at the bottom of the stairs watching them with a fond smile. “What?” He said in a put upon voice and ran a hand over the girl’s head, bulging his eyes out wide when Rosie pulled a face. “How was school, kiddo?”

Rosie pushed up onto the balls of her feet before she rocked back, “Good, I ran out to the car quick to get home ‘fore she gets here.”

The smirk the man took on was almost evil and he laughed when he cocked his head out to gesture behind the girl. “Just about managed it.”

A curtain of honey coloured hair swept over her shoulders when the girl twirled around on her heel, eyes widening in sudden surprise to find me standing there. “El!” She called out, a grin breaking across her features before she hurried over to engulf me in a hug too.

Even as surprised as I was by the gesture, I chuckled and lowered myself down to squeeze her back, smiling at Em from over the top of her head. “Hey,” I murmured gently, staying crouched even as we pulled apart, “Thanks for the pjs, they’re probably the best gift I’ve gotten in ages.”

That statement appeared to thrill the girl, who’s eyes twinkled under the soft lights, “I got a matching pair, guessed we could wear them tonight and watch a movie so you’d feel more at home.”

My heart burst at the thought, I was sure of it.

But then Marshall went to speak and I already knew what he’d been prepared to say, so instead of letting him ruin Rosie’s sweet plans, I was quick to jump in, “I’d love that.”

The smile she gave me was award worthy and she turned back to face her dad with that settled. “See, if you had gotten the same ones like I said, you could’ve joined!”

I snorted at the expression that then crossed Em’s face, his head jolting back a tad. 

“You really didn’t get some to match?” I egged the girl on, mouth dropping open in a feigned amount of shock.

We were both met with a disbelieving shake of his head as the man blew out a heavy breath and turned away. “I’ll watch what I want and wear what I want, it’s my house.” He threw back at us as he headed further into the house, murmuring under his breath, “Women.”

Rosie and I shared a conspiratorial grin before we made to follow after him. 

“It’s rude to just dump your friend, Dad.” Rosie commented once we’d wandered into the kitchen to find Em grabbing a couple of bottles out of the fridge, the girl slid onto a stool at the end of the island whilst I bit my cheek to keep from outright laughing.

Her words were met by an unimpressed stare that didn’t appear to phase her as she continued to swing her legs back and forth. The man let the fridge door slip close as he made his way over to join his daughter, handing her a bottle before sliding the other across the counter to me. “You got homework?”

Rosie’s eyes flickered from her dad to me, then back again, “Maybe, but it’s Math.”

“Well, we ain’t goin’ nowhere til it’s done.” Marshall told her with a small shrug, even though I’d seen his eyes widen at the thought of having to deal with numbers and sums. “Get changed and we can start on it, okay?”

The girl emitted a soft sigh but ultimately moved to jump down from off the stool, “You any good at Math, El?”

Biting down on my smirk, I ignored Em’s murmured warning of the girl’s name and answered, “Not bad, I might be a little help.”

“Anything’s better than my Dad’s attempts.”

“Yo, I try.” Marshall was all too quick to quip back in retort, his arms now crossed over his chest as he stared his daughter down with a slight frown.

Rosie’s smile was precious, but her eyes told another story. I knew then that she understood exactly how to keep her dad wrapped around her finger. She was a little menace and I already loved it. “I know, Daddy, my teacher said that my English homework was the best she’d read in a while.”

Em actually seemed to take pride in that and so I guessed he’d had a hand in that homework too. His daughter also appeared to take note of the fact that he was pleased because she hurried off then, calling out over her shoulder once more, “Be back in a sec!”

“Yellin’!” Marshall yelled, defeating the whole purpose of his previous argument, before he sighed and gestured me over towards the seat Rosie had just vacated. “See what I have to put up with?”

Scoffing, I moved to take up the stool whilst he picked up a few stray notes lying on the counter and placed a glass that had been left behind at some point into the sink. “You ain’t seen nothing yet. Wait til she’s thirteen and debating the point of riding a dirtbike to and from school with you.”

Em barked out a real laugh at that as he turned his back on the sink to shoot me a look that said ‘Really?’

I heaved a put upon sigh, fingers toying with the water bottle I’d been gifted. 

“That’s not even the worst of it.” I told him as my mouth worked over a smile, “Before I left she asked if she and a few friends could stay at the house alone whilst I was away, because, and I repeat, ‘If there’s six of us then that basically equates to one whole adult’. I’m still genuinely scared that she went through with it even after I said no, keep checking the security cameras to make sure there isn't a herd of teenagers working their way inside.”

He wore an amused smirk but I noticed there were more than a few questions hiding behind his stare. They’d been there for a while now.

“You can ask.” I eventually said, appreciating the atmosphere his home offered, from the warm walls and the pictures that decorated the place, to the odd bits of mess that made the too large house look lived in.

Em worked his tongue into the curve of his cheek and watched me for a moment, before he eventually settled his forearms against the counter and leaned into it. “Kinda figured you took care of her, even before you mentioned that she was your sister.”

My gaze flickered down to the water droplets that clung to my fingertips, the bottle sweating from the change in temperature. “Yeah. I mean, I’m a lot older than her, so we sort of lived through different shit but I went through a lot as a kid, with like my mum and all the issues she had. When I found out that she was pregnant again it was through this woman who used to work with her at the local greengrocers when I was little. I just remembered thinking that I didn’t want that baby going through the same thing I did.”

My mind flashed back to the memory. Thinking of Annie’s wrinkled face and the relentless rain that had only just begun to let up. She had congratulated me.

“I was sixteen, had long since packed my shit up and left, but I’d never had the money to get too far. So I’d still spot her out and about.” I licked at the corner of my mouth, unwilling to meet his eye. “I went to see her after I’d heard, mostly out of anger. Her new boyfriend had moved in and I remember just being thankful for the fact that my brother had a friend that didn’t mind putting him up. She said she wasn’t using, just fags and the like, a cider here and there. Was surprised to see me, though she expected a big song and dance about the new baby.”

I picked at the water bottle’s label.

“When Lotts was actually born, her dad was locked up proper– facing sixteen years for armed robbery. Mum had her in a ward two months early and ended up leaving her there to go visit him. She was a preemie, tiny, too tiny, you know?” I murmured and could still picture her that small. “Mum she came back that same night mostly for a bed to sleep in, but had already found herself a fix. The nurses must have noticed that something was up, they’d asked to run blood tests and shit, but mum wouldn't have it. Would come and go during visiting hours whilst Lotts was in the NICU. I stayed, only leaving when I had a shift to work, and even then I’d come running straight back.”

Marshall just stood there listening and in truth I was thankful that he hadn’t thought to interrupt me to offer words of comfort or probe deeper. Although his eyes were serious when I finally managed to look over at him, listening intently.

I rubbed my lips together before getting on with it, “I moved back in with her when Lottie was finally able to come home. Ended up taking care of the kid when I was still just a kid myself, only so that she didn’t get tossed into care or fucking overdose on whatever shit mum and whoever else left lying around. It was just the two of us for a while, before my brother, Danny, came back. He’d gotten caught up in something with these older lads on the estate and was still at school, so I worked nights down at this pub under the table to keep up with rent and he’d watch over her for a few hours. It was there that I started performing just for extra cash, like on mic nights and stuff.”

Em squinted and for the first time he opened his mouth to contribute something, “That’s where you got found, right?”

I was sure I hadn’t mentioned that in any of our conversations and so I could only guess that he’d done a little bit of digging on me, the thought made me want to laugh but instead I simply smiled. “Yeah, some scout just happened to be passing through.”

He hummed, taking that in.

“But by the time anything really came about, my brother had long since gone off to join the army and Lottie was seven.” I mentioned, eyes jumping back and forth between him and the bottle I still clung to, “I’d always taken care of her, but then I was suddenly needed elsewhere to make these dreams come true, to make money, to give her a better future.” 

I knew that he could relate to that, to the utter struggle and fear I’d faced, terrified it would all fall through and I’d be left with nothing again.

“I didn’t really have a choice about leaving her though so she stayed with a neighbour at first, then her dad’s aunt who was nice enough to pop round sometimes, she was an older frail woman. I managed to actually land something eventually and started work on an album, but even after that the weight of anxiety had settled and I was working so hard just to keep all of these producers' attention.”

I swallowed thickly at the next flashback that had hastily followed. 

“Shit went down while I was over here in The States.” 

I felt sick each time I thought about it, hardly even dared even attempt to bring it up even to those few that knew. Lotts didn’t really remember any of it though, didn’t recall the hospital scare or my frantic need to make sure that she was okay for weeks after it had happened.

“I flew back that night and managed to sort of work things out. Threw a fucking toaster at my mum’s head I was so angry–” I snorted stupidly, “It missed. But after that I couldn’t trust her. She’d lost any sort of love I’d held for her. That was about five years ago now though, so she’s a bit different. Trying, she says. But Lotts stays with me until the very second I can’t help it.”

Blowing out a shaky breath, I willed my gaze to meet his and was taken back by the intensity of his stare.

“Sounds like a piece of work.” Marshall eventually commented and it honest to God made me laugh, allowing me to fill that hollow in my heart for a second and be grateful for the ease of it, because I really wasn’t too sure if I’d been about ready to cry at his kitchen table. “But I get it.” He added, “I think it’s great what you did for her, too. She probably won’t realise that til later but you should hear it.”

I glanced away, eyes suddenly stinging and tried to smile. “Yeah, well.” I tittered, wiping the corner of my eye discreetly, “She’s staying with her now and it’s got me on edge.”

Marshall moved around the kitchen island to place a careful hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly before he ended up dragging me into a one armed hug. “You’re tough. Which means she’s gotta be too. I’m sure she’s just doing what kids do and messin’ around with her friends. Remember that’s all I did growing up, anything was better than bein’ in that house.”

A small snort escaped me as we parted, though he stayed near. “Because that’s so reassuring.”

He clucked his tongue and grinned, knocking shoulders with me, “I was a good kid, didn’t do nothin’ bad.”

“Uhuh,” I felt the need to drag out, “The image of an angel, Marshall Mathers.”

“Too fuckin’ right.”

“Dollar!”

It seemed we both jumped at the sudden reappearance of Rosie, who came sweeping into the room with a finger pointed at her father and an armful of school supplies. The skin between my brows pinched in confusion before the man beside me answered her, giving me the explanation I needed.

“For what?”

“You swore.” The girl shot back at him and climbed onto the stool beside me to settle her notebook down as well as a few pages of paper and pens. 

Marshall ended huffing, unable to deny that he had and moved towards the cupboard by the large, sliding glass door. 

“Maybe don’t eavesdrop on conversations. Reckon you owe a dollar for that, girlie.” He’d since grabbed a plastic tub and I was honestly surprised by the sparse amount of notes that were hidden inside it. Em must have spotted my surprise though and equated it to what it meant because he spoke again, “It gets emptied every couple a’ weeks and that monster over there gets to choose what we spend it on.”

Rosie perked up at the mention. “Last time I got him to take me fishing.”

“Fishing?” I wondered, blinking at the revelation. I looked back at Marshall and laughed, “I’m sorry but I can’t imagine you in that scenario.”

“Ha ha.” The man said impassively, widening my grin whilst he tugged two dollars out from his back pocket and shovelled them into the jar before he returned it to its rightful place.

“He only caught one.” Rosie piped up, already having written the date in that backwards way the American’s preferred, “It was real cute.”

I raised a brow and shot it Em’s way. “Cute?”

Rosie’s smile was big and bright, “Yeah! He said we had to let it go though ‘cause it was so small.” 

Marshall rolled his eyes and then pointed between the pair of us. “You two keep this whole thing up imma go out to eat by myself. Bunch’a bullies, I swear.”

Rosie and I broke into a fit of giggles at that which only made the man’s expression flatten that much more, he waited for us to get over it before he looked between us and the notebook which had been laid out. “Enjoy Math, I’m gonna go grab a burger.”

“No!” I laughed brightly, spinning on my stool when he started to walk back around the island, “We want food too.”

“Yeah, we’ll start a riot, we're that hungry.” Rosie told him and I couldn’t muffle the rest of my giggles. Marshall merely rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time.

“Math, then we can talk food.” He declared, tickling his daughter’s side as he slid in beside her to get a better look at the worksheet she had. His eyes widened. “They got you using letters now too?”

Rosie’s laughter filled the kitchen and I got a first row ticket to watch her and her dad’s light ribbing as we started in on the first question. The sight of it made my heart swell in truth, it was just so easy to see how much love they held for one another.

[marvel-snape-writes]

Being of the Jealous Kind

Snape x original female character

18+ smutty smutty smut smut

7.5k+ words of grumpy Snape smut 😋✌️

Eleanor is in her first stint of training to teach at Hogwarts. Severus Snape had been the teacher she had been most curious about ever since she was his student. Since time had passed from their teacher/student days, they have caught each other's eyes on more than one occasion. The annual party was underway for all to attend, regardless of teacher, student, or status. Severus Snape attended the party, 25% because he felt it obligatory to do so being in his position, 75% because he wanted to see *her*. Jealousy overcomes him and he manages to get a message to her, inviting her to meet him in his chamber at Hogwarts... will either of them get their happy ending?

“You wanted to see me, Professor?” Her voice was slightly timid and her knock a little unsure, never having been summoned to his chamber before.

First there was silence for what felt like too long, but she exhaled quietly when she heard footsteps coming toward the door — half from relief and half from fear. Her heartbeat stalled as she heard the large metal lock unclasp from behind the door, almost as if he was purposely slowing down the process of opening it. His scent was the first thing to escape the room from around the crack in the door as it gradually opened; a dark musk like tobacco mixed with whisky, the knowing that he did not smoke and hardly drank only adding to the mystery of him. It was not too strong to overwhelm but strong enough to wrap you up and draw you in.

His shadow was the second thing to pass through the door; a dominant, broad figure, even a little unnerving, but from over the time of knowing him she could almost swear he carried himself like that on purpose. His eyes ran their way from the floor until they pierced hers, her breath hitching in her throat from the intimidating intimacy he always brought to that moment regardless of where you were or whose company you were in.

“Y-You wanted to—” She repeated shyly before swallowing hard as he cut her off;

“Yes,” He spoke simply, his voice lowering now, “I heard you the first time.”

She pressed her lips together and gazed down at her feet, the silence from before now even more deafening with his eyes upon her. He bit the inside of his lip and squinted his eyes briefly, exhaling through his nose before pushing the door open a little further as if he had made a subconscious decision in his head before doing so.

“Come.” He said softly, gesturing for her to step inside his chamber.

She followed him inside and swallowed hard when she heard the door shut behind them. Her eyes scanned the room as he now walked in front of her, stopping at his arm chair but not sitting down in it.

“It will never not feel odd to stand in front of you as a colleague instead of a student.” She half laughed, trying to create conversation into the stale environment.

“And, yet, you still know your place…” He spoke quietly, though loud enough for her to hear.

“I…” She paused for a moment, unsure whether to acknowledge what he said or not, “I’m sorry?” She dared herself to say.

“No matter.” He flashed her half a smile this time, “How was the party?”

“Well, you were there… and then you weren't.” She squinted her eyes, looking up at him.

“I am aware I was there, but that is not what I asked…” His eyes met hers, though his expression was more of a glare, “How. Was. The. Party?”

She pressed her lips together from the way he spoke to her and held her hands in front of her, playing with her fingers.

“It wasn’t bad, thank you…” She spoke quietly, only looking at him briefly, “Is that why you asked of me?”

“It may be related to the matter at hand.” His tone returned to normal, stepping further into the room.

“The matter at hand, Professor?” She squinted her eyes.

“Tell me, do you still feel the need to address me as ‘Professor‘ now that we are working alongside each other?” He arched a brow, though a smirk threatened his lips.

“It is your title, is it not?” She looked at him properly this time.

“Correct.” He nodded, gazing over at her for a brief moment before busying himself by dusting one of his book shelves, “Though, I would be a fool to say I don't find it somewhat… one of your more attractive natures, calling me that.”

“Professor?” She tried her best not to show how shocked his comment made her.

“Hm.” Was the only noise he muttered, his back now completely to her.

She watched him as he moved from one book shelf to the next while dusting along each surface, his cloak moving along with him each time and his hair flowing over the top of his collar. She stood there in silence just watching him, though this wasn’t the first time she had found herself in this position. Not in his chamber, but certainly out of it. She admired the way he carried himself; he was harsh when he needed to be and you often felt like you were walking on egg shells around him, but that was almost what attracted her more too him — his power and status. If he was so delightfully forceful when he wasn’t happy with you, the mind boggled at how he would be if he desired you. And that had been the first thought on her mind ever since he was her professor and she was his student.

She decided to play with him, taunt him.

“I was not expecting for Barnaby to ask me to dance with him…” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, tilting her head slightly as she continued to watch him, “Though, I suppose I should've expected it since he did ask me to go with him.”

“Enough.” He spoke softly, his hand pausing with his index finger against the spine of one of his books but his back still facing her.

“He couldn’t really dance,” She giggled, pretending she hadn’t heard him as she continued to taunt, “I think I’ll go back to him now and see if he gets any better throughout the night.”

“I said enough!” His voice was more stern this time, spinning around smoothly and causing his cloak to rise into the air from the draft of air his sudden movement caused.

Her breath caught in her throat from his sudden outburst, lips parting when she saw the look upon his face. His jaw clenched the moment their eyes met and his hands were now held behind his back, exhaling quietly through his nose.

“Sorry, Professor…” She spoke shyly, her eyes still on him, “Shall I excuse myself?”

His eyes squinted, hands clenched behind him as his eyes burned into her before finally speaking softly, “No.”

“No, professor?” She scowled slightly, his intimidating shadow now looming over her as she stepped a little closer to him, “Professor?” She repeated into the silence.

“Stop… S-Stop…” He shook his head, turning around as he groaned out his words, “Stop calling me ‘Professor’.” His teeth gritted, trying to busy himself with dusting his bookshelves again.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” She asked, watching as his cleaning became more erratic.

“It would appear, Miss, that in the time from entering my chamber to now, you have forgotten your place.” His voice remained monotone.

“My apologies…” She bit the inside of her cheek, daring herself to push him even further, “Professor.”

“Don't push it.” The rising anger was heard in his short tempered voice, enunciating each word perfectly.

“It surprises me that someone of your status or power doesn't prefer to be called by that title,” She stepped closer to him, “Or insist.”

“I’ll tell you what I insist…” He grumbled under his breath.

“Yes?” She held her breath slightly, awaiting a loud response from the Professor but pressing her lips together when he remained silent, only letting out small huffs as he dusted along his bookshelf, “Well, alright. I won't talk to your back any longer. Thank you for… whatever this was, but I must be getting back to Barnaby.”

The mixture of her words and her fading footsteps as she turned to walk away caused him to spin around even faster than before, knocking off a couple of books in the process. He raised his wand and fixed the lock on the door, preventing her from leaving.

“Prof…” She tried to say as she turned back around, eyes wide.

“I insist you listen,” He stepped closer to her, “You may leave my chamber when you wish, but please allow me to explain myself…”

She nodded but remained silent.

“Have you let it go unnoticed how we have so often appeared fond of one another? I must admit, as a colleague, you have caught my eye on more than one occasion…” He spoke whilst looking at his feet, his arms now behind his back again.

“I don't understand…” She tried to act like she hadn't found his intense presence wildly alluring even before they had made the teacher-to-student to colleague-to-colleague jump.

“Tell me, Miss Eleanor, do I strike you as the kind of person who would willingly attend an event such as this evening?” He asked, tilting his head as they closed the gap between them a little more, “I think the manor in which I have behaved since inviting you here has proved I am not a… social man.”

“Then why did you…” She gazed up at him with narrowed eyebrows, holding her hands nervously in front of her.

“I came for you…” His tone had never sounded so sincere than it had in that moment, hesitantly raising his hands in want of holding her face within them.

“But… you didn't even talk to me.” She pouted her lips, keeping her eyes on his.

“I’m sorry, I…” He paused, lips still parted as he now cupped her face in his hands, “I saw you and words… failed me.”

“Professor Snape, you…” She spoke quietly, placing her hands against his biceps.

“Stop… calling… me…” He inhaled sharply, their faces now closer, “Please call me ’Severus’.”

“Is this you ‘insisting’, hm?” She bit her lip and giggled, squeezing his biceps in her hands as she leaned up on her tiptoes.

“I have grown so tired of admiring from afar…” Were the final words to leave his lips before they were met with Eleanor’s.

Eleanor’s entire body froze. This was something she had thought about, daydreamed about even, at the back of his class for almost as long as she could remember. She could sense the hesitance in the way he exhaled after the kiss, almost as if he had just remembered that once upon a time they were student and teacher. Eleanor grasped onto the opening of his cloak, breathing shakily against his lips. She dared to lean up and brush their lips together faintly again, letting him know that she was okay, this was okay. A shiver ran through her when she heard the soft whimper escape the Professor’s lips. His large hands brought her even closer to him, their heads tilting now and becoming more comfortable in the kiss as it grew deeper.

They stumbled about the room as their lips parted, hands back and forth from being in one another’s hair and then to their clothes. Grunts left their mouthes, then a giggle from Eleanor as the Professor lightly bumped her up against one of his book shelves.

“S—Sorry…” The apology hardly even became vocal from the intensity of their kisses.

“Shh, let’s go over here.” Eleanor whispered, leading him with his cloak in her fists over to his large armchair but not breaking the kiss.

The Professor felt the hot flush rising through his body as he willingly followed, his hands settling against her hips once the backs of his legs touched the armchair. Eleanor reached up with both hands to place them upon his shoulders, gesturing for him to sit down in it. He did, lips parting as the kiss broke.

“Sit, Professor…” She bit her lip, standing between his parted legs.

“I am not going to ask you again…” He inhaled sharply as she leaned over him, “Stop. Calling. Me. ‘Professor’.”

“Why, hm?” She felt a flicker of cockiness, gazing down into his eyes, “Does it turn you on when people address you as ‘Professor’?”

“Do not be absurd, I work with children who call me that on a daily basis.” He glared up at her, palms against his knees.

The look he gave her made her want to give herself over to him in that instant, the look he would give when he was most displeased with someone’s behaviour. The look that drove her wild regardless of the setting; him being her teacher as a student or him being her teacher learning the ropes as a colleague. It was an expression that had always sent her head spiralling into different ways that she would allow him to take out whatever he was feeling upon her. It always amazed her how quickly he could switch.

“Then, what is it?” She asked, now standing with her hands on her hips.

“It’s the way you say it… the way your lips form the words, the tone of your voice…” He exhaled quietly, biting his lip for a moment before gazing up at her, hardly able to believe he was admitting it, “Frankly, my dear, it makes me weak. Vulnerable, almost. The way you insist on addressing me like so… even though we are now to work alongside each other.”

“But other colleagues call you it, don't they?” She squinted her eyes.

“You are missing the point…” He shook his head, the glare still upon his face.

“Hm?” She tilted her head, trying her best not to smirk.

“It’s you.” He spoke simply, “Come down here.”

“Why?” She tried to push it as far as possible.

“Because your Professor told you to.” His voice was even lower than usual, not quite a command but gravelly enough to turn her legs to jelly.

Eleanor immediately fell into his lap, placing her hands against his shoulders as she felt his arms wrap around her. Their lips smacked together and Eleanor’s fingers found themselves in his hair, tugging at it slightly with several grunts from his lips that followed.

“Eleanor, wait…” He breathed against her lips, unwillingly pulling back.

“Professor Snape, I never had you down as such a tease…” She scoffed playfully when she felt him pull back, her hands still in his hair, “Though, I guess with the power you hold within your position here at Hogwarts you are used to getting your own way as and when you please.”

He paused, swallowing hard as he gazed up at her. He didn't know how much longer he could hold down the fiery desire within him, but something was still holding him back. The position he found himself in, in that moment was what he could've only dreamed of since seeing her at the party, but he was unsure if she, too, felt the same. Little did he know, Eleanor had been having thoughts such as these for a while now, but how would she have ever plucked up the courage to approach one of the most powerful men in the business?

“I am indeed well aware of the power that my position holds and the upper hand that I have over many,” He narrowed his eyebrows, sincerity in his eyes and her cheek cupped in one of his large palms, his thumb faintly skimming over her bottom lip as he spoke, “But I will not allow that to take advantage of something so delicate… without willing reciprocation.”

“Then, you shall have it.” There was barely room for a breath in between his words and her response, her hands now darting to unfasten the cravat around his collar.

Very few breaths were taken between the desperate kisses, Snape’s hands now finding themselves at the zip at the back of her dress. Eleanor nudged herself forward slightly against his lap when she heard the soft groan escape from his lips and smirked when his groan grew louder from her movement. Skilfully, she rid him of the cravat completely and began to unbutton his collar, letting out a shaky breath against his lips when she felt how much his hands were shaking against the fastening of her dress and compared it to how swiftly he locked the door to his chamber, wondering why he didn't resort to the same device to rid her of her dress.

“I would give up spells, potions and power forever for just one chance to tear your clothes off with my bare hands.” He wheezed against her lips, tugging at the zip.

“Do as you please, Professor…” Eleanor whispered, trailing one of her hands down the front of his body.

She mirrored the speed in which he unzipped her dress with the speed she moved her hand down his body, reaching the front of his pants at the same time as he had pulled the zip all the way down. She edged her hand closer to grasping the now evident bulge in the crotch of his pants before teasingly raising both arms above her head to allow him to pull the dress from her body completely. Once the dress was rid of her completely and tossed carelessly to the floor, the Professor’s hands found her breasts, massaging them gently as Eleanor’s hand fell back to his crotch, palming at it slowly. Her free hand placed against his cheek, their tongues tangling briefly before Snape’s breathing was unsteady and he trapped her bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it out as he felt her fingertips now working their way along his clothed erection.

“Are you sure you're doing all of this without magic?” She teased against his lips, “Surely a man of your age is biologically incapable of getting aroused so quickly.”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” He snapped in a quick whisper, earning a sudden moan from her as a result of squeezing her breasts harder as if in some form of punishment.

“Or what?” She found the head of his cock through the material of his pants, pressing her thumb against it.

“You don't even want to know…” He hissed through clenched teeth, the sensitivity of his length sending bolts throughout his body as Eleanor applied more pressure with her thumb.

“Oh, but, I think I do… Sir.” She gazed down at him with a devilish grin, gasping with a soft giggle when she felt his cock twitch against her fingers from the way she addressed him.

Snape lifted his hand to draw her back down into a harsh kiss, tongues immediately touching as she began to grind over his crotch. His moans passed through her lips, feeling himself straining against the material even more than before. Her hands shuffled along to the opening of his pants and began her attempt at tugging them open, gasping when she felt her bra coming apart from the back.

“Mm, what happened to ‘no magic’?” She smirked against his lips, pulling her bra off completely and dropping it to the floor before focusing her hands back on the button of his pants.

“You are causing me to run out of patience…” He spoke uneasily, parting his legs a little further as she managed to unbutton his pants, now fumbling with the zip.

“Sorry, Professor, let me…” She pushed his crotch open fully and reached into the front of his underwear, “Speed things up a little.”

The Professor felt his breath hitch in his throat when he felt Eleanor’s hand wrap around his warm, hardened length. Their kisses became more clumsy, leaving him hardly even able to concentrate as she began to pump her hand up and down his now impatiently pulsing cock, releasing it from his clothes completely to allow her wrist more ease of movement.

“Mmmh…” He whimpered against her lips, his eyes rolling back from the contact of her hand alone.

“Is that nice, Professor?” She whispered seductively, kissing him back just as roughly as she received.

“Don't speak.” He responded bluntly, claiming her lips urgently as precum began to pool at the tip of his cock already.

Eleanor was a little taken back by his response, but little did she know the touch starved reason behind it; her words and actions combined could easily become too much too soon for the aging, deprived Professor. He had to ease himself into it.

Eleanor’s lips parted into the kiss when she felt the sticky string of precum slide down the shaft of his length and onto her fingers, helping with the ease of her jerking motions which in turn sped up. She felt him fidget beneath her and thrust his hips up into her hand a little in order to stress his need. Her thumb brushed under the head of his cock faintly each time her hand slid up to the top, making his breathing change drastically each time. He was barely even kissing her at this point, just eyes tightly shut as her hand blissfully slid up and down his length.

“O—Off, off…” He repeated the word as if in an uneasy stutter, his hands now grasping at the material of her underwear against her hips.

“Anything you want…” She smirked, ridding herself of her underwear completely and placing her hands against his shoulders. Snape narrowed his eyebrows from the new lack of contact against his cock, longing for her to be all over him again.

“Listen to me…” Snape breathed out heavily, swallowing hard as he gazed up into her heavy eyes, “I fucking need this. Do not disappoint me.”

Eleanor felt her heart flutter from his words alone, trying to remember the amount of times she had pictured this exact scene in her mind. Quickly, she snapped herself out of it.

“If you would like to guide me into how not to disappoint you, Professor, be my guest.” She lifted her hips, hovering over him.

She allowed her gaze to fall down to his aching, unattended length — proudly creating a shadow over his lower stomach as it longed for more attention. Her lips parted and her grip on his shoulders tightened, reaching down with one hand to line him up with her perfectly. She leaned in to kiss him again as her hips desperately tried to sit over him at the same time as their lips touching. That was, however, until she found his large hands clamped against her hips and therefore preventing her from moving whatsoever.

“What do you think you are doing?” He asked, glaring at her once more as he tried to calm his breathing.

“I— I’m sorry, I…” She swallowed hard, both hands now trembling against his shoulders, “I thought that was… w-was what you wanted.”

“I said listen to me,” He spoke lowly, now enjoying taunting her despite the built up arousal he held himself, “You need to make your decent slowly.”

Eleanor lost her breath from his words and kept her eyes on his with parted lips as she followed his instructions, slowly lowering herself over him completely and watching as his jaw clenched from each movement.

“L—Like that?” She asked shyly before biting her lip as he filled her completely.

Snape nodded once before speaking, “Don't move yet.”

Eleanor’s eyes squinted, hands continuing to tremble against his shoulders as he leaned forward to reach behind him, pulling his cloak off from behind him. Carefully, he wrapped it around Eleanor’s shoulders and gazed up at her with desire filled eyes, his hands now back on her hips.

“What an honour…” She whispered, glancing at either side of her to look at the cloak now upon her.

Snape reached up to bring her into a kiss again, sinking down into his large arm chair as she began to move over him with the return of each kiss. One of Snape’s hands slid up her back from under the cloak and his kisses became more harsh, grunting each time her hips landed down on his.

“Fuck.” He breathed out shakily, his fingers trembling as they dragged down her back.

Eleanor felt herself go dizzy already from the way that word passed through his lips — more of a breathless moan than speech. She broke the kiss and her head fell forward, nuzzled in the crook of his neck from the dip in his high collar since the buttons had been undone. The aroma of his skin so close to her filled her senses; almost like old leather with a very brief hint of lavender, but only like he had dabbed it on in a half-hearted attempt to cover up his somewhat curious appearance. His clothes, however, smelled like damp paper, books, to be more specific, as if he bathed in them.

“Come back…” His words trailed off when he felt her lips upon his neck, “C—Come back up…” His head tilted to the side, lips parted as she suckled upon a certain patch of his neck, “Back up… Back up here…”

Eleanor smirked against his skin, moving against him in harder motions as his hands clamped her hips again. Guiding her back and forth and willingly showing his desperation turned her on more than she could have even imagined.

“I think I could become quite accustomed to your cock, Professor…” She spoke directly into his ear before pressing a quick kiss to it, “I think it will take several visits to get to know every inch of it, anyway…” Her tongue traced down the side of his neck and then back up to his ear again, “Because its so… fucking… big…”

“Agh!” His voice curdled in his throat, not used to such praise, especially not whilst he had someone using his cock as a pogo stick. Her hands found themselves in his hair again, tugging at it gently as her lips latched onto the crook of his neck and feeling his length pulse with each movement. Snape’s sweaty hands slipped from her hips and his grunts and groans grew in frequency as the fire in the pit of his stomach began to increase.

Eleanor’s movements became slightly more clumsy as the familiar warmth in her stomach, too, increased, panting into his ear. Snape’s heavy eyes opened when he felt a draft, losing himself in the moment even more when he saw it was coming from the cloak — his cloak — still snug around her shoulders and wafting into the air each time she bounced over him. He could feel himself easily able to give in to her in this very moment, and so could she, but that wasn't the way he wanted this to end.

“Stop being such a brat, and listen to me…” He attempted at using his snappy tone, though it fell through as the jolts of ecstasy refused to stop shooting through him, “C—Come back here.”

She paused briefly, blowing cool air against the red patch of skin on his neck and grinning to herself when she felt him shiver as a response before lifting her head to gaze down at his flushed face, arching a brow, “Yes, Professor?”

Snape swallowed hard when their eyes met, opening his mouth to speak but instead placing one of his hands on the back of her head and pulling her down into a bruising kiss.

“Mmh, fuck…” Her hands were on his shoulders again, squeezing them tightly as their kisses grew more and more rough with each motion over his throbbing arousal, “Professor, you…”

“N—No, no…” He shook his head uneasily, though keeping their faces close, “Don't you dare make either of us cum.”

Eleanor’s lips parted from his words, shocked from what appeared to be a sudden change of heart. Confusion hit her when his hands were upon her hips again, relentlessly guiding him up and down his length. Her thighs trembled and their lips smacked back together, whimpering as her orgasm began to climb her body.

“S…Stop letting me ride your unsurprisingly large cock, then…” She gasped against his lips, moaning each time she sat all the way over him.

Snape’s fingertips turned white from how hard he was holding onto her, fighting back the urge of giving in himself, too. He grunted each time his cock twitched madly inside her, wanting so desperately to chase his own climax, but wanting something else even more; to make it clear who really was in charge. It was one thing saying she made him weak, but he certainly could not show it.

‘Pull yourself together,’ He thought to himself, ‘For crying out loud, do not embarrass yourself, Severus.’

“O—Oh, fucking…” He began to gasp uncontrollably, his heartbeat rapidly increasing as he pushed himself as far as he could go before uneasily raising his voice, “A—Alright, alright… Enough!” He commanded for her to stop, even as much as it pained him.

“U—Ugh…” Eleanor whimpered, her heavy eyes half open as they stared down at him, “Th-That was so cruel… I thought this was what you wanted. What you ‘fucking need’.” She attempted to impersonate him from before, mid trying to catch her breath.

“Do not use my own words against me.” He inhaled deeply, glaring up at her and placing his hands on her thighs.

“Then, do not use your cock against me…” She narrowed her eyes, glancing down at his hands, “I’m pretty sure if you so much as sneezed right now, I would—!”

“Quit your whining,” He butted in immediately, afraid of the effect her words would have on her, “Stand up.”

“B—But, my…” Eleanor narrowed her eyebrows, pouting her lips as she struggled to even think about moving her legs, “I’m not sure that I can…”

“Stand. Up.” His tone was more stern this time, able to calm himself briefly by forcing himself to concentrate on his breathing instead of what was crying for release between his legs.

Eleanor swallowed hard and placed her hands against his shoulders, trying to steady herself as much as possible as she lifted herself up off him. The feeling of his length leaving her completely, and the feeling of her no longer sat over him at what was just before their orgasms made them both shudder as their contact completely broke — though she did have to grasp onto the arm of the chair in order to keep herself upright.

“In front of me.” He snapped his finger and thumb, pointing to the space in front of him.

He had to practically put his tongue back into his mouth when she stood before him; cheeks flushed, thighs red, fingerprints — his fingerprints — upon her skin. His eyes took a walk up to her chest, mesmerised for a few moments as her breasts were rising and falling with each shaky breath she took. All of this right in front of him whilst wearing nothing but his cloak still. He knew this would be an image he was going to get off on for a long time… the fact being that it was taking everything in him not to take himself into his hand right now.

“L—Like this?” She asked, gazing down at him. He remained silent, but the image she was met with could've made her forget her own name; the once arrogant, stubborn Professor now slouched in his large armchair with his legs spread, lips parted, breathing heavy and uneasy as his unattended, reddened erection stood proudly through the opening of his pants. He was completely at her mercy in this moment, and she was at his. She bit her lip as her weakened legs threatened to give way before repeating herself, “Like this, Professor?”

Hearing her address him like that again gave the Professor the energy he needed to push himself out of his armchair and catapult himself toward her, gladly met with her arms snaking around his neck again. She leaned up on her tiptoes to press a harsh kiss to his lips, grateful for the support as she leaned against him.

“Wh-Why did you make us stop?” She whimpered against his lips, grasping onto him slightly tighter as he began to walk them — or more like stumble — through his chamber, “Mmm… are you taking me to your bed, Professor?”

“Absolutely not,” He responded instantly in between rough kisses, “Do not be foolish and think you have earned a place in my bed by your actions tonight.”

“I…” She was far too turned on from his scolding reply to form a response for a few long moments as he walked her further into his chamber, “Professor, my legs may just give way if you don't give me a surface soon…” She giggled against his lips before pressing a slightly harder kiss to his lips when she felt her back touch one of the stoney alcove walls, “W-Wait… This isn't your bed… How am I supposed to ride your desperate cock from this angle, hm?” She smirked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I don't care if your legs are shaking. Fuck, I do not care if you cannot feel your thighs or if your body is trembling…” His voice was like sandpaper against her lips, making her audibly gasp when she felt his hardened length now pressing against her lower stomach as he growled lowly in a gruff tone, “If you are going to act like a slut, Miss Eleanor, I am going to treat you like a slut.”

“Ooh…” Eleanor inhaled shakily, feeling herself being pinned against the wall by his hips, “And are you going to fuck me like a slut, Professor?”

Snape didn't respond verbally, his lips were too focused on being against hers again. She attempted to reach for him again but found her wrists being pinned against the wall by his large hands. She pushed her head forward and took hold of his bottom lip between her teeth, tugging at it slightly as she felt herself being pinned with more force this time. Snape winced slightly as he ragged his lip out from between her teeth, grasping one of her thighs now and raising it to his hip as she hooked it around his waist.

“Are you going to behave for me?” He asked, his tone soft now as he rocked his hips forward.

“Y—Yes…” She whimpered, trying to kiss him again but instead being met with his finger against her lips.

“Yes, what?” His voice remained in the same tone, though slightly quieter this time as his lips came closer to hers.

“Yes, Sir…” She felt her body shiver as he reached down to take his length in his hand and slot it between her legs, though staying still.

“Try… Again…” She could feel his hot breath against his lips this time, once again trying to lean forward to kiss him but groaning in frustration as she kissed only the air when he moved his face back.

“Yes, Professor…” She felt her breath hitch in her throat as he nudged his hips upward, making the tip of his cock press against her.

“That’s right, sweetheart…” He looked down at her with a wicked grin, raising himself a little higher and pushing the head of his length inside her just to taunt her before lowering his hips once more.

“F—Fucking tease…” She whimpered, trying to move her hips in an attempt to create any type of feeling at all, “Stop teasing…”

“Or… what?” Snape smirked, kissing the corner of her lips as he moved his hips again, bouncing the tip of his cock between her legs each time and loving the way she squirmed in response.

“P-Professor!” She cried out in frustration, grasping onto his hair each time she felt the brief contact.

“Yes?” He used his free hand to brush her hair out of her face and watching her closely as he continued to taunt her, “What are you going to do, hm?”

“Beg,” She answered immediately, desperate to kiss him and even more desperate for what she could feel pulsating beneath her, “I am not above begging, Professor,” She inhaled shakily, placing her hands against his neck, “I will beg.”

Snape had all intentions of kissing her and giving her exactly what she wanted — what they both wanted — and leaned in with his lips almost touching hers until he heard her words. Words that set arousal alight like a wildfire throughout his whole body. Abruptly, he stopped himself and pulled back, arching a brow as his tone lowered, though speaking simply, “Then, beg.”

He felt her breathing change against his lips from their faces still being so close, brushing his hardened length between her legs several times. Eleanor snaked her arms around his neck again and grasped onto his hair with trembling fingers, trying to pull him as close to her as possible.

“Se…” It came out inaudible the first time. She tried again, “Sev…” She narrowed her eyebrows, feeling him still taunting her as the grip on her thigh became slightly more firm, “Severus*, please.*”

“Wh…What did you…” Snape swallowed hard, “What did you just call me?”

“Severus.” She repeated, though this time in a more seductive tone.

“Mmmh…” Severus quivered against her lips, awarding her with a kiss each time she repeated his name.

“Severus, Severus, Severus…” She groaned in desperation as she brushed back and forth over the tip of his cock still teasing between her legs and lips parting as she tilted her head, “Fuck me, Severus.”

Hearing her calling him by his name rather than his title made the moment grow somewhat more intimate between the two of them. He couldn't explain it. It was as if they had now crossed the bridge into allowing themselves to get to know one another properly.

Severus pulled her leg up a little higher around his waist and thrust his hips upward in one swift motion, whimpering in pleasure against her lips. Eleanor inhaled sharply from the feeling of him finally filling her again, though this time there was no pause before he started to move his hips at an ungodly pace - his pants pooling around his ankles in the process.

“Mm, fuck, no one is to have you like this other than me. Do you hear me?” He grunted against her lips, bruising them once more as he kissed her before she even had a chance to respond.

“That’s awfully possessive, don't you think, Professor?” She smirked against his lips before letting out a louder moan when he thrust her against the wall in a slightly harder motion.

“I am merely stating my… preference.” Severus paused to let out a moan even louder than Eleanor’s, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.

“Sounds more like a command to me…” She grinned, gasping against his lips as his speed increased.

“Take it how you wish.” He responded, reaching for her other thigh and pulling it up to join the other at the opposite hip, “Fucking. Take. It. All.”

“S—Severus!” She cried out in pleasure, squeezing her legs around him and digging her heels into his bottom to urge him not to stop, “Ugh, fuck!”

Severus gripped onto her thighs securely, the force of his thrusts now making their kisses become more clumsy. Eleanor’s fingers tangled themselves deeper into his hair, moaning his name each time she thudded against the cold stone. Their teeth clashed together several times as a result of him now moving his hips at a merciless pace. Despite how deep Eleanor had her hands in his hair, it didn't stop it swishing back and forth as a result of his relentless hips.

Deep down, they both knew it wouldn't take them long to get to the same point they were upon his arm chair. Their pulses raised, breathing changed, thrusts becoming even more desperate — if that were even possible.

“Tell me why you came here instead of Barnaby.” Severus pulled his head back briefly to speak, sweat now gathered upon his forehead and top lip from his unsparing movements.

“Because you told me to, Professor.” She responded, her lips remaining parted in delight from each time he moved.

“No, truthfully,” He gritted his teeth, “You could have stayed with him. Gone with him. Gone to bed with him.”

“You really want to know, Severus?” She whispered lowly against his lips, now rocking against him in time with his thrusts.

“Do you think it's easy, being of the jealous kind?” He growled lowly against her lips, bucking his hips.

“Mm…” She lost her breath from his low-key admittance of wanting her all to himself, “Yes, I could have stayed with Barnaby, gone with Barnaby, but…” She clung onto him, feeling her climax near approaching as she spoke again, “Maybe I was far too occupied already being yours.”

“M-Mmh, fuck!” Severus exclaimed in pleasure, those words being the only thing needed to push him over the edge, “Ugh, shit… Eleanor, f-forgive me!” He gasped, releasing his taunted orgasm with each harsh pulse of his cock.

“Sev… Severus!” She clung onto him even tighter, losing herself to her own climax only seconds later as he continued to drive his hips forward.

Their kiss broke, but only to allow for more exclamations of profanities to be shouted into the chamber, each one bouncing against the walls and becoming shattering echoes around them. Both of them chased their pleasure for as long as possible, clinging onto one another for dear life as their bodies trembled in ecstasy.

Eleanor was the first to mentally come back into the room, laying her hands against his shoulders as she tried to catch her breath. Severus slowly opened his eyes and carefully lowered her feet back down onto the floor, pushing his hair back with his hands. For a few moments, they stared at one another with flushed cheeks, almost as if in disbelief as to what had just happened.

“Prof…” She began, biting her lip as she glanced down at his softening length.

“Get dressed.” Severus spoke bluntly, quickly reaching for his pants and fastening them back up.

“What, you toss my clothes about your chamber and now I have to collect them and put them back on?” She scoffed playfully, placing her hand upon his chest.

He immediately took hold of her wrist, removing her hand as he spoke in a more assertive tone, “Get. Dressed.”

Eleanor was taken aback by his abruptness for a few moments, looking up at him and rolling her eyes when she was met with his glare. She did as he asked, placing his cloak over the back of his armchair and turning back to him once she was fully dressed. She swallowed hard, unsure of whether to speak.

“So… what now, cuddle?” She arched a brow, only half joking.

“I think you ought to return to your own bed.” Severus exhaled quietly.

“Interesting thing to say when you never actually showed me to yours.” She looked up at him, hands on her hips.

“Out.” He gestured toward the door, raising his wand to unlock it.

“How romantic.” She spoke sarcastically, walking toward the door.

“I gave you my cloak so your back wouldn't get cold against the stone.” Severus shrugged and followed her toward the door.

She stopped once she got to the door and smirked, placing a hand on his open collar and biting her lip when she saw the dark red circles upon his neck, “Is this why you wear such high collars, hm?”

“Out.” He glared, swatting her hand away.

“Hang on, are we seriously going to—” She squinted her eyes as he opened the door for her.

“Look,” He glanced down the hall to make sure there was no one there before closing the door again but keeping his hand on the handle as he glanced down at her, “You got what you wanted, I got what I wanted, and now we move on.”

“Move on?” She squinted her eyes, “Wait, did you just admit that, that was what you wanted?”

“Goodnight, Eleanor.” He cleared his throat, opening the door again.

“Sev—?” She tried to ask him again before he cut her off.

“Goodnight.” He swallowed hard, gesturing for her to leave.

“Well, the ‘S’ in ‘Severus’ or ‘Snape’ certainly doesn't stand for ‘smooth talker’.” She muttered to herself as she left his chamber, flattening her dress with her hand as she made her way down the corridor.

Severus quickly shut the door behind him as if it would also shut out the events that had just taken place. It didn't work. Even the aroma of the room smelled of sex; sweat, desire, sweet relief, and partial regret. As quick as the door was shut, he found himself reaching for the handle again. This time, he only opened it slightly, enough for him to just peer down the corridor and watch as she walked down it. Away from him. He wished he could immediately take back the coldness he had shown her after their alcove-stone-knee-trembler. He cursed himself for how well and ashamedly comfortably he could disguise his pure intentions and feelings. He felt regret and guilt for how she must have felt upon leaving his chamber, and as fast as the door was reopened, he was closing it again. He leaned back against the closed door and exhaled loudly through his nose, his back sliding down it until his knees bent up against his chest with his head in his hands, speaking into them;

“Oh, fuck.” He took in a deep breath, “Severus, what have you done?”

-

Thank you so much for reading! This is the first Harry Potter or Snape inspired thing I have ever written, so I won't lie, I was terrified to post this... Please let me know what you think or feel free to send me an ask/request/DM if there's any other plot you'd like me to write and I promise I will try not to read it through my fingers 🤣♥️

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[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

bully me - chapter one

pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader word count: 1401 warnings: angst, smut, explicit language, bully kook, daddy dom kook, bathroom sex, dub-con, degradation kink, choking, breathplay, spanking, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, dirty talk, dacryphilia series masterlist A/N: request - hiii ! can you do an enemies to lovers where bully!jungkook catches the reader playing with herself and it just turns into smut ? with a daddy kink pls ? i love your writings and i hope you have an amazing wonderful day ! Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

Maybe you had a bit of a masochistic side, it would explain a lot.

Jeon Jungkook had been bullying you for as long as you can remember - pulling your hair, pushing you against the lockers, tripping you over, ripping all of your hard-working papers, name-calling you, the whole shebang. It was the way you'd react to everything that left you puzzled.

Like yeah, you'd cry because there's so much a person can take before they burst, but even with your tears still fresh, you felt a sudden need between your legs, of which you'd quickly escape to the bathroom, lock yourself in a stall, and get some sweet release.

Today was no different.

After making you trip and fall in the middle of the hall and ripping your homework into pieces you made your usual run to the bathroom, ignoring anyone that called your name.

Entering the bathroom you were quick to lock yourself in a stall, pulling up your skirt and pushing your panties to the side, not really caring if you weren't alone.

You ghosted your fingers over your slit, trying to tease yourself, before sliding your finger between your dripping folds as your thumb started to make circles around your clit, all the while as you bit your free hand in order to muffle your moans.

Inserting another finger you fasten your pace, head thrown back against the stall and so lost in your own pleasure that you had failed to notice when someone stepped into the bathroom, however, when the knocks on the door happened you were quick to stop.

More knocks came and you remained petrified, not knowing what your next move would be. Hell, you didn't even know if you were still breathing.

The knocks became rougher until, suddenly, one bang against the door was enough to open it. Your eyes widen when you saw that the person was none other than the reason for you to be playing with yourself in the first place - Jeon Jungkook.

"Well, well, well," he smirked looking at you from head to toe as you lowered your head in shame and started to bite your bottom lip. "So this is what you do when you run from me."

He stepped closer and closed the door behind him. You were screwed. Not only had your bully found out what you did but you were alone with him, meaning he could do whatever he wanted to you and nobody would be none the wiser. You just hoped that he would go easier on you.

The silence was suffocating you, you wanted to run away from him as fast as you could but you knew that he would easily catch you, and the punishment would only be worse. "J-Jungkook I-I-"

As the words fell from your lips he was quick in tightly gripping your hair and forcefully pushing you against the stall, pinning you between the wall and his chest. "Did I say that you could talk?"

You whimpered, feeling tears start to form as the familiar need between your legs made itself known once more, making you start to rub your thighs. Despite your best wishes, the action didn't go unnoticed, Jungkook's eyes focusing on your legs with a cheshire smile on his face.

"Oh you absolute slut," his grip on your hair tighten, making you let out a whine. "So desperate, I could do anything to you and you'd still thank me, wouldn't you?" at your lack of a response Jungkook's free hand moved to wrap around your throat, squeezing it forcefully. "I demand an answer bitch."

"Y-Yes," you said as your nails dug into your palm.

Letting out a hum your bully seemed pleased with you, as he released you from his grasp, however you could barely regain your breath as you felt his fingers rubbing the wetness around your covered slit.

"Hmmm, so wet for me already," you let out a gasp as he pulled your panties to the side and inserted two fingers into you, pumping them at a rapid pace. You tried to push him away but that only resulted in him taking both of your wrists and holding them above you.

Leaning closer Jungkook whispered in your ear, his voice lower than before. "You're gonna be a good slut for daddy, aren't you?"

He removed his fingers from you, waiting for your answer as you debated on whether you should or shouldn't tell him, especially considering that the situation you found yourself in was basically a dream come true.

After much back and forth you decided what the hell, it wasn't like that his words and actions hadn't an effect on you, even before today. "I'll be good."

Hand on your chin, Jungkook forced you to look at him. "Louder!"

"I'll be daddy's good slut."

With a smirk Jungkook pulled your panties down, putting them in his back pocket, and then his length out of his pants, giving it a few strokes, before wrapping one of your legs his waist and positioning himself at your entrance.

"You're gonna be quiet," his hand on to you tightly. "Not gonna get caught because of a slut that doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut."

Jungkook slammed into you at full force, making you let out a loud moan, causing him to slap you across the face with his free hand before gripping your hair with it.

"What the fuck did I just say?" With a tsk he took your panties out and stuffed them in your mouth. "Stupid bitch, doesn't even know how to follow simple directions," slamming into you once again, you arched your back and let out a muffled scream, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Oh fuck," his thrusts were rough and fast, snapping his hips against you with such force, the sounds of lewd squelching and of your body constantly hitting against the wall bringing you closer to your high.

"You're so tight for daddy - ah f-fuck - I should've done this sooner." Jungkook gripped your other thigh, pulling you closer to him and pinning you between the two, in such a way that you knew would leave bruises.

And you couldn't be happier, as you threw your head back at his unrelenting pace.

"You like taking daddy's big fat cock?" At your muffled moan Jungkook pulled your panties out with his teeth and then spit them to the ground, proceeding to give your ass a hard smack. "Answer me whore!"

"Y-Yes! I-I love daddy's big cock," you felt yourself getting closer to your end, your walls clenching around his length as he kept ramming into you. "D-daddy, I-I'm c-close."

"Then come," his fingers began to rapidly rub your clit. "Come all over daddy's cock."

With the combination of his words and actions, it wasn't long before your knot broke and you released, drenching him in your juices.

As your walls gripped him like a grapevine Jungkook's thrusts became sloppier, jackhammering into your cunt as he chased his high. With a few more thrusts and a whiny cry of his name, he tipped over the edge, shooting deep inside you and painting your walls with his warm release.

As you both caught your breath Jungkook slowly slid out of you, carefully letting you stand on your own feet and gathering the cum that started to spill and fingering it inside.

"You're gonna be good and keep it in, if I see a single drop I'll guarantee that you won't be able to sit tomorrow," the gaze he gave you almost made you want to hide from it. "Understood?"

"Y-Yes daddy,"

"Good girl," after pulling his pants back up Jungkook bent down, picked up your panties, and shoved them in his back pocket. "I'm keeping these."

Your eyes widen at his words, was he just trying to make your life harder? " B-but then, how am I supposed to-"

"Try," he shrugged. "I'll meet you when school's over and then I'll take you to my house."

"Why?" you asked confused, he never made any effort of trying to interact with you before.

"Because now that I had a taste of you, I'm not letting go," he pinned you between the wall and his chest once again. "And besides," he got closer to ear. "I have some interesting things that I know will make you so wet for me, and I can't wait to try them."

[writtenonreceipts]

a/n: Bonus points if you can point out where one of my (many) mental breakdowns occurs.  She’s a bit of a disaster.  I literally don’t know where this came from…

Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas @aelinschild!  Written as part of the @rowaelinscourt secret santa exchange. Thanks for putting up with me and my myriad of asks.  It’s been wonderful to get to know you these last few weeks! <3<3<3<3

Find the companion Elorcan piece here! Set just a few months before the main events of this story.

AO3 Link here

Warnings: nothing major, non-explicit/passing mentions of trauma/abuse, very brief mention of drugs ~25k words

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Until the Dust Settles

A golden sun set behind the Oakwald Mountains, casting long shadows across the long stretch of land that made up Whitethorn Ranch.  The acres were a makeup of subtle rills and hills where horses could run for ages and the flatter earth where a decent sized garden yielded a fair amount for the farmers market in the spring and summer. 

The land had been in Rowan Whitethorn’s family for over one hundred years—it was the only home he’d ever known.  He’d grown up racing horses through the vast fields or spending winter chasing down animals that had gotten loose in a storm.  He would admit that sometimes it was a hard life to live—the constant work, the fear for the animal’s safety.  But it certainly had its benefits.

The spring and summer that actually made the land worth having.  Not only because there in the farther outreaches of the countryside, things seemed untouched by society—which really was the only thing worth mentioning.  But it also allowed for the most tourism and when most people came to visit that ranch.

For nearly twenty years now, Whitethorn Ranch was mostly known for its outreach program for troubled teens.  When kids needed time away from home where it was for depression, anxiety, trauma, misbehavior—they came to the ranch.  

It had started ages ago when Rowan’s great-grandfather came to own the land and took on the runaways who were escaping bad situations.  His great-grandparents accepted anyone who came by the ranch as their own and the attitude extended through the generations.  By the time Rowan’s father gained the land, things had turned to be more professional.  

The ranch used a mix of therapy modems and simple outreach to help those who needed it.  They offered day visits for schools, riding lessons, even month-long visits and stays for extreme cases.  It was careful water to tread sometimes.  Recently, Rowan had been more conscious about making sure the kids who came felt safe and wanted.  He never accepted anyone who was forced to come, unless he could talk to the kid first.  Even then, he knew that help only helped when someone actually wanted it.

But now as Rowan stared over the golden horizon, he wondered how anyone could turn a sight like this down.

He tightened Goldryn’s reins and clicked his tongue, directing the horse back to the stables.  It had been a long day of checkouts and clean up.  This late in the fall, most people only came by for tours or field trips.  Business wouldn’t pick back up until May at least.

For now, the ranch would rely on its usual borders.  There were a few families that owned horses but didn’t have the land to keep them, so Rowan rented out stalls and charged for care.  It kept him busy enough in the slower months.  Him and Lorcan, his best friend from college, made things work though.  It had taken a great deal of convincing to get Lorcan to come out here, but the grumpy bastard enjoyed being outside and this job presented plenty of opportunity.

It certainly helped that Lorcan had recently started dating Elide Lochan, who was a staple to the small town.  And Rowan had to admit—they were good together.

As he rode down a worn path along the paddock fence, Rowan could see a shape waiting for him in the distance.  He grimaced.  There was only one person that would be so intent on talking to him.

He slowed Goldryn to a trot, knowing he couldn’t avoid the inevitable.

Leaning against a fence post with her arms crossed and golden blonde hair hanging in loose curls was Aelin Galathynius.  Brilliant, beautiful, and a pain in his ass.  She had come to the ranch almost six months ago after graduating from a top university specializing in trauma.  She was exactly what he needed for what he was trying to accomplish here and exactly the right person to drive him insane.

Rowan pulled Goldryn to a stop at the fence gate and stared down at Aelin.  Her cold blue eyes stared right back up.  She’d long since traded her fancy clothes and high heels out for jeans and t-shirts.  She even wore a baseball cap on occasion.  And yet the change of close did nothing to diminish her looks.

“I need to talk to you,” she said.  She didn’t flinch when Goldryn stamped her feet with a loud snort.  Another thing Aelin had improved upon, not being jumpy around the animals.  Though, she did eye the mare with a bit of distrust.

“It’s outside of my office hours,” he replied.  “Try again tomorrow.”

Aelin scowled at him.  It was the same excuse she used on him when he needed to talk to her, he didn’t see why she should be so upset to have it thrown back in her face.

“That’s what you said yesterday,” she said.

“I know what I said.”  He adjusted his hold on the reins and shrugged. “It’s been a busy few days.”

He jumped off of Goldryn’s back, landing in the earth with a soft thump.  He could just as easily have Aelin open the gate for him, but he was convinced she would have tried to scratch his eyes out if he’d asked.  Keeping one hand in the reins, Rowan unlatched the gate and swung it open towards him.  Goldryn snorted again, huffing as she backed up a few feet to make room.  

Aelin too had taken a step back but she didn’t go far.  She was several inches shorter than he was, even in the boots she wore, but still taller than the average woman.  She had a lean, athletic build Rowan had seen put to good use.  When some of the kids got restless on their extended stays she would workout with them, go for runs, turn hay bales, the whole nine-yards.  She wasn’t weak by any means.

“What do you need, princess?” he asked as he led Goldryn through the gate, locking the paddock again behind him.  He kept himself between Aelin and the horse, mostly because he knew she still wasn’t comfortable around the larger animals and even he wasn’t that cruel.

Still, Aelin almost stalked off right then.  Rowan could see it in her eyes, the tilt of her chin.  It wouldn’t have surprised him if she had.  Hell, he’d never met anyone as stubborn as Aelin Galathynius.  Not even one of his horses had as much attitude.

But he knew she needed something and even though it killed her, she uncrossed her arms and kept pace with him as he set off toward the stables.

“Don’t call me that,” Aelin said flatly.  She flicked her hair over one shoulder as she kept her steps purposeful, even when she stepped in a small hole and nearly went careening forward.

Rowan tried to reach out and steady her as he kept Goldryn reined in, but Aelin waved him off.  She straightened herself out and got on even footing before she continued to scowl at the ground.  She’d always been like that too—refusing help and insisting she could manage things on her own.  She was damned near worse than Farasha.

“Easy,” he said.  He was talking to the horse, who was yanking on the reins a bit too hard.  Aelin of course would never miss an opportunity to glare at him.

It was a shame they hated each other; Rowan decided.  Because try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.  Between her blue eyes, the golden waves of hair, the mischievous tilt of her lips—he’d be a fool not to acknowledge it.  But Aelin was also impossibly stubborn.  She fought him on everything.  She was opinionated.  She was selfish.  She was—

“I want you to open up another week for kids to come and stay over Christmas and New Years,” Aelin said.  She adjusted the yellow and black flannel she wore, eyes straight forward.

She was going to drive him to an early grave.

It was Rowan’s turn to stumble as he spun to look at her. “You what?”

Goldryn snorted, pulling on the reins again.  Oh she was mad at him.  They were a few minutes late to dinner now and she knew it.  Damn horse.

“An extra week for kids to come stay over the holidays,” Aelin repeated.  She didn’t flinch from the way he turned his own glare on her, only kept walking with that insufferable tilt to her chin.

“Why?” he asked.

Christmas—any of the holidays this time of year really—always made for a quieter time on the ranch.  People were more content to stay at home and put off their problems a little longer.  It wasn’t until after that people realized how much they hated their circumstances.  Even then, they didn’t seek out his ranch for anything more than daily horse rides.  Nothing to actually problem solve.

“It’s a hard time of year for kids,” Aelin said.  

They reached the stables and she helped slide the great door open.  Immediately, the heating system blasted them with a warm gush of air accompanied by the scent of hay, manure, and feed.  It was a scent Rowan had grown used to and, strange as it was, he took comfort in.

Rowan handed Goldryn off to one of the stable hands who took the mare to her stall.  Turning to Aelin, Rowan crossed his arms over his chest, taking her in.  She had a fiery determination about her and he knew he wouldn’t be able to brush her off easily.

“Open up an extra week so these kids can have a safe place to come,” Aelin insisted. “There’s a program with the city—”

“Please, Aelin, I know what that means,” he said, already walking away.  She could trail him and make her case if it was so important. “I won’t actually get paid for the extra costs.  The city pretends to take care of all the funding but doesn’t actually give me what I need.”

“I’ll take care of it all,” Aelin said, indeed following right after him as he moved to the feed barrels.  She even managed to dodge the droppings from the lone pig that wandered the stables. “I’ll keep up the communications with the program.  I know the director, she’s not a flake.”

Rowan had heard things like this before.  Sellene had tried to get him to take state funding before too, all that resulted in was mounds of paperwork and audits.

He opened the feed barrels and started scooping portions into waiting buckets that would go to the various horse stalls.  Aelin took one of the buckets as soon as it was filled, her manicured fingers wrapping around the handle.  

“The Cavarre Foundation wants to help kids,” Aelin continued.  She grabbed another bucket. “They’ve already got a list of kids they can send over.”

“Then they can wait til after the holidays,” Rowan said.

He hefted his own buckets and went to the first stall.  A yearling named Quinn was already waiting for his feed.  His owners were aiming for the colt to be a stallion and show for congress.  Quinn had a bit too much attitude to take to that sort of training, he’d be better as a rodeo horse or in the fields, but Rowan wasn’t being paid for that commentary.

“Watch it buddy,” Rowan warned the colt as he opened the stall and eased toward the trough in the corner.  Quinn nickered and pranced a bit, but ultimately didn’t give him any issues.

Aelin waited outside the stall, the tension in her body obvious.  She should just go and catch up with him later.  He would have suggested it too if she didn’t immediately start talking again.

“What if their home lives aren’t the best?  These kids have been selected from a few of the foster homes in the area and recommended by psychiatrists that this would be a beneficial healing opportunity.”  Aelin dodged around a worker moving hay, this time landing one foot in a pile of pig dung.  She didn’t flinch. “Isn’t that what this ranch is about?”

No it wasn’t.

Rowan opened the door of Hessina’s stall.  The mare was pregnant, due in late February, and had to be the sweetest horse he actually owned.  Rowan offered her a nose rub that she eagerly accepted.

“Are you even listening to me?” Aelin asked as Rowan closed the stall again.

“Hard not to when you won’t shut up,” he muttered.  He couldn’t tell if she’d heard him or not--her scowl remained perfectly etched on her face and she betrayed nothing as she walked with him to the next two stalls.

It didn’t take long to get most of the horses fed and ensure they had plenty of water.  The night wasn’t set to get too cold, so they wouldn’t bring out the blankets.  The heating system worked well enough to keep things warm but not freezing and these horses were all conditioned and bred for the chilly winter weather as it was.

By the time Rowan was ready to head back to the main house it had almost darkened completely outside.  Another long day done only for it to continue tomorrow and the day after.  He’d only been officially running the ranch for five years and he was ready to be done with it.

After making sure everything was set for the night, and checking in with the shift leader, Rowan decided he could leave everything as it was.  Lorcan would be in tomorrow to do a once over.  As the lead stable manager, he oversaw the functioning of the workers and the horses.  He even did a bit of training on the horses.  Not that Lorcan would ever admit to doing so.  

“You still here?” Rowan said to Aelin as he headed back to the cold night.  It was a twenty-minute walk, but the weather had been decent enough that he hadn’t wanted to bother with his car. 

“You never gave me an answer,” she said.

They walked across the long drive that led straight to the main house.  The road wasn’t paved, only gravel packed dirt that wound it’s way around the property.  When kids were staying in the cabins, Aelin had a room designated for her in the house, but she usually just went back into town where she rented an apartment.  As far as he knew, she was still planning on leaving when they reached her car.

“I already told you no,” he said.

It wasn’t an easy decision to make; opening the ranch up for a week.  Especially over the holidays.  He knew that Lorcan didn’t care about this time of year and there were a few ranch hands that wouldn’t mind the extra time to work.  But if the city program never paid him, he could never pay for the extra work.  And while he knew he could handle the work on his own if necessary…well, Rowan just didn’t see the point of approving this.

“It’s a lot to take on without much warning,” he added, before Aelin could rise up in a defensive retort. “Give me a day, alright?”

They finally reached the main house with its large wrap-around porch, the whitewashed wood, and three-story windows.  His cousin was probably inside already cooking up a meal that she’d filmed for her Instagram page.  It was the kind of house for a family, for someone with more to their name than Rowan did.  Sometimes he really hated coming home.

Aelin car, a small two-door Audi, waited from where she’d parked it that morning.  Rowan would be very interested to know how she planned on getting around once the snow started.

“I’ll take on any extra work you need,” she said, “cooking, cleaning, I’ll care for horses—”

“You hate the horses,” he said.

Her mouth twisted to the side. “I’ll do what I need to do.  Please, Rowan.  I think this would be a really good opportunity.”

Rowan didn’t know what surprised him more: the fact that she said please or used his first name.  He made the mistake of meeting her gaze, the gold undertones of the blue bright in the porch lights.  Shaking his head, Rowan muttered a curse.

“I’ll let you know in the morning,” he told her.

Aelin nodded once. “Thank-you.”

It was the most civil they’d been to each other in a long time.  Usually their exchanges ended in accusations, shouting, and name calling.  Aelin too seemed caught off guard by it.  She stepped back, digging for her keys in her pocket.  She nodded again before returning to her car.

Rowan remained outside as she made a quick U-turn in the large gravel drive.  She disappeared into the night quietly, the taillights soon lost as she curved down a bend in the road.

“Dammit,” he muttered.

Rowan already knew the answer he would have to give Aelin.  It was one he’d have to give his entire staff.  And he knew no one was going to like it.  Come new year he was going to sell the ranch to someone new.  And just like that the legacy his family had left him would be gone.

…

As she drove down the highway into town, Aelin found herself wringing the steering wheel of the car while imagining it was Rowan Whitethorn’s neck.  She knew, she knew, he was going to tell her no.  He would text her first thing in the morning and tell her that her request would be denied.  That the thing she actually cared about wouldn’t see the light of day.

He was a bastard.

She’d known it from the first day she’d met him so many months ago.  

It was her first full day in Oakwald, having left everything behind in Terrasen, and she was ready to start anew.  She’d expected things to be hard.  But she hadn’t expected Rowan Whitethorn to look at her with such contempt and tell her that she really had no business being there in the first place.  As if he hadn’t hired her just a week ago to fill a vacancy in his staff.

Not to mention the look he’d given her clothes, her car, everything about her was some big cosmic joke.  

Aelin sighed and turned off the highway to the bar where her one real friend worked.

Her little Audi was out of place among the trucks and SUVs.  She just needed to make it another two weeks without any bad weather and she’d have access to her new car.  Locking up, she hurried into the bar, already relishing the warmth awaiting.

In the span of one minute, the cold November air nearly sucked the life out of her.  The bar was a welcome reprieve as it was always kept at a decent heat.  Even with the scent of cigarette smoke lingering in the air, it had a comforting air about it.

Aelin went to the counter and slipped into a stool right next to Lorcan Salvaterre.

“Seriously?” he growled at her with a malicious side eye.

“It's the best of both worlds,” Aelin said with a cheeky smile. “You don’t like sharing your girlfriend, but she’s my best friend.  You still can talk to her and freely ignore me.”

Lorcan was not impressed by the explanation.  Back in the city, Aelin would have done everything in her power to avoid a man like him.  He was massive with long black hair and enough scars to indicate bad news.  His leather jacket strained with his broad shoulders and thick muscles.  And while Aelin would admit she had a thing for guys of a certain physique there was something dark about Lorcan that she couldn’t explain.  Which made it all the more surprising that he and Elide had started dating.

“Hey, Aelin!” Elide appeared from the swinging doors that led to the kitchen, carrying a tray of appetizers for another table.

“Hey!” Aelin called back.

Just a few months ago, Elide had told her about the confession she’d overheard where Lorcan admitted his feelings for her.  It had led to a heated kiss and a night that Elide said was the best of her life.  It was the only explanation Aelin needed or wanted.  She was glad her friend was happy, even if it was with Lorcan Salvaterre.

“Glad to see you’re still grumpy as ever,” Aelin told Lorcan.  She snagged a few pretzels in one of the many bowls set up along the bar.  She’d long gotten over her germ contamination worries.  

Lorcan grunted and sipped his beer.  Aelin rolled her eyes.

“You’re just like Whitethorn,” she said.

Another grunt.  Well, it was better than utter ignorance she supposed.

Elide appeared a minute later.  She leaned against the counter and raised a brow.

“Wow, you actually chose to sit next to Lorcan,” she said, “I’m proud of you.”

“I figured it would be better than making the old man upset that you would choose me over him to talk to,” Aelin explained.  “Besides, I think he’s warming up to me.”

Lorcan cut her a look that only had her grinning.

Elide snorted a laugh. “Yeah, besties the two of you.  What would you like to drink?”

“Just a coke,” Aelin said, “I should get home soon.”

“Coke and mozzarella sticks coming up,” Elide said with a wink.  She glanced at Lorcan. “Babe?”

Lorcan stared at his girlfriend for a long moment before registering what she said.  The corner of his mouth picked up in a smile and he shook his head.  

“Nah, I’m good.”

Elide only smiled fondly as she got Aelin her coke and went to put in an order for mozzarella sticks.

It was strange to Aelin just how enmeshed she’d gotten into this small town just in the past few months since arriving.  She never thought she’d find a place to belong more than in Terrasen, but there was something about Oakwald that she couldn’t deny enjoying.  It certainly helped that she and Elide had become such quick friends.  

But really, Aelin was glad to be out of Terrasen.  She needed a new start.  A new life.  Here, no one knew her history, her parents, anything beyond the fact that she was the new therapist on Whitethorn Ranch.  And she liked it that way.

Elide returned a minute later, her thick black hair piled in a new bun atop her head.  She often worked doubles all week long without much time for herself, let alone to date anyone.  But Aelin had learned a long time ago that Elide was as good as they came.  She worked hard, cared harder, and was one of the most genuine individuals she’d ever met.

“How was the ranch?” Elide asked.  She set another beer on the bar for Lorcan without his needing to ask for it.

“Good,” Aelin said, “it’s been slowing down.  But if Whitethorn wouldn’t be such an ass, it would pick up.  I pitched him my idea for the extra week over the holidays.  He’s just going to say no, though.” Beside her, Lorcan made a noise.  She shot him a glare. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, “it doesn’t matter.”

He looked up when the bar door opened and a few of his friends came in.  He rapped his knuckles on the counter before standing to go join them.

Aelin looked back to Elide. “How can you like him?”

“Because I do,” Elide said simply.  She leaned across the counter with a sigh. “I’m sure Rowan will approve your idea.  It’s a good one and he knows it’s what his ranch is for.  Take him the numbers and notes you came up with.  He can’t say no to concrete evidence.”

Aelin nodded absently.  When she’d come to Oakwald it had been in part to get away from Terrasen.  But it had also been a beckoning call from her cousin and his wife.

Lysandra Cavarre-Ashryver had been a close friend of Aelin’s for years when they’d grown up together in Terrasen.  They’d lost contact when Lysandra’s foster family took her across the country.  Aelin too had lost contact with her cousin after a series of messy family drama.  It was only after Aelin’s…accident a few years ago that they’d slowly reconnected.

And to be honest ever since talking with Lysandra and Aedion again, Aelin had slowly started feeling like herself.  It had only taken six years.

“I just…I really think it’s a good plan, especially for those kids,” she said.  This entire thing was the only thing keeping her afloat right now.  A job that gave her purpose, a chance to reunite with her cousin…it was better than being left with the reality of potentially going back to Terrasen.

Aelin shuddered at the thought and sipped her coke.  The carbonation danced on her tongue as she swallowed.

“He’s going to say yes,” Elide said.  She gave Aelin another look of assurance before going back to the kitchen to check on orders.

Aelin didn’t know what to think.  Elide had to be on her side, that’s what friends did.  But Elide was also not the kind to cling to false hope.

“Yeah,” she said to herself.  She had to believe that this would go right.  Because the alternative…well she didn’t want to think about that.

…

“What do you mean no?” Aelin asked.

She stared across the desk at Rowan who looked utterly passive as he sat in his chair, fingers steepled before him.

They were in the office of the main house where most of the “on paper” business of the ranch was taken care of.  Aelin had spent a bit of time here over the last several months.  Mostly to force Rowan to listen to her on a subject.  And just like all the other times before it was proving to be hostile and unproductive.

The office was simple in decoration with only a few framed pictures of Rowan’s dad, granddad, and great-granddad, a few knick-knacks on the shelves, and medals and certificates of recognition that the ranch had received over the years for various horses that had made nationals and other such things.

 Aelin didn’t like the room very much.  The rest of the house had a homey feel, but she believed that was because Sellene lived on site while she went to school at the local community college and hosted an online cooking show with Instagram.  It was Sellene that added the feminine touch to the main concourses.  Rowan hardly seemed like the domestic type.  If things were his way the entire house would be empty save for a display of guns.

“I mean no,” Rowan said.  He didn’t even look apologetic as he delivered the news.  “It’s too much work for the ranch in this season.  Most of the workers are already leaving until things pick up in the spring.  And if you can’t guarantee payment then I’m not putting in the risk.”

She pulled out the binder she’d curated with Lysandra and dropped it on the desk with a thunk.

“I have the costs and benefits listed, what the program will offer in payment before and after, they have releases all lined up, the programs director is willing to come down and help with whatever is needed supervision wise for the kids.”  Aelin flipped the binder open to the different graphs and spreadsheets. “If you’d just look it over.”

She was trying desperately to keep her voice even, to keep from shaking and revealing too much, but Aelin could feel a familiar sense of panic rising within her.  This was happening.  He was going to turn her down and she would be left with the solid evidence that she couldn’t even do something as simple as start a therapeutic program on her own.

“Aelin,” Rowan said.  He leaned across the desk and placed a hand on the open binder.  He didn’t even bother to look at the pages of carefully crafted data.  Instead, his stupid green eyes bore into her with what Aelin could only describe as pity.

The bastard was pitying her?

She slid the binder away from him, protective of it and all the work she’d put into its contents.  

“Fine,” she said.  She shouldn’t have been surprised.  In the last seven months of knowing him, he had always been cold and heartless. The kind of person that Aelin should have known better than getting into business with.  He wasn’t any better than—

“I have three conditions,” Rowan said suddenly.

Aelin snapped her eyes back to his.  He couldn’t really mean—

“First, you’ll be expected to pick up extra slack from the workers who already have approved time off for the holiday,” Rowan said, “and you’ll have to convince Lorcan to work over time.”

Aelin blinked at him. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“No strings attached?”

“Well, I doubt you’re going to get Lorcan to help.” Rowan shrugged, leaning back in his chair. He paused as if considering what his next words would be. “He doesn’t like helping people very much.”

“I know he doesn’t like me,” Aelin said, her body still thrumming with excitement. “No need to sugar coat it.  What was your third condition?”

Rowan adjusted the cuff of his shirt. “The program director needs to have at least a quarter of the payment to me by tomorrow afternoon.”

“She can have it to you by today,” Aelin said automatically.  She knew that just like her, Lysandra had been waiting for an opportunity like this to come along and had made sure she had sufficient funding all lined up.  Plus, there was Aedion who would go to hell and back if it meant getting Lysandra something she wanted.

Rowan didn’t seem convinced that her words held much weight but he only nodded. “Alright.  Then from the twenty third to January second you’re in charge.”

“Deal.  Done.”  Aelin agreed automatically.  She would have given him the twenty in her wallet and her library card if it would make a difference.  Which it should.  Her library card was worth gold.

Despite his agreement, displeasure was plain to see on Rowan’s face.  He still didn’t like this plan.  Well he could just suck it up.  By the time Aelin was through and was able to execute all the ideas she had—he would see.  This was going to be a brilliant idea, one that could easily become a new tradition for the ranch.

He held out a hand toward her and Aelin stared.  Did he want to shake on this?

“The binder,” he said, one silver brow raised.

Aelin felt a bit of heat rise in her cheeks, but she forced it back.  This binder was her baby.  Quite literally the thing that had pulled her through her master’s program, and hopefully to a doctorate.

“You’re going to be mean to her,” she said.

“It’s a binder.”

“It’s my child.”

Rowan’s lips parted in surprise.  Well, it wasn’t the first time she’d caught him off guard.  It was his turn to stare at her, those green eyes boring into her with such intensity Aelin would have thought he could actually see into her soul.

“I need to know what you’re going to put my ranch through,” he said.

Aelin pursed her lips.  She knew she’d have to relent, but handing over the binder felt like handing over a piece of her and she didn’t think she was ready for that.  Rowan’s hand still wanted expectantly and she glanced down at it.  His palm was upturned and she could see the roughhewn calluses on his fingers and knuckles.  His skin was clean though, the nails neatly trimmed and no dirt tucked in the nail beds.  She’d never quite realized just how big Rowan actually was, in all these months.  And here he was holding out a hand to her and all she could do was stare.

Like a maniac.

She dropped the binder into his hand.  He barely twitched.

“I’ll just wait to hear from your…friend?” he asked.

“Lysandra Cavarre,” Aelin said.  Technically Lysandra Ashryver, but Aelin really didn’t want to go into the complications of last names and what they meant.  She’d made it this far without any association to her past, she could keep it up a while longer.

“Lysandra,” Rowan repeated, committing the name to memory.  He nodded and accepted the binder onto his desk. “I’ll leave you to it then.  You’ve got a lot of work to do if you think Lorcan’s going to agree to this easily.”

“Oh, he’s even more of a bastard than you,” Aelin replied quickly.  She smiled as sweetly as she would if she were talking with someone she liked. “But I’m best friends with his girlfriend.”

With that, Aelin rose from her seat, collecting her bag as she went.  When she reached the door, she turned back and smiled again.

“You won’t regret this.”

Just as she was pulling the door of his office shut behind her, she could have sworn she heard the soft murmur: Mala save me.

Aelin smirked to herself as she walked back through the house.  If she was adding just a little bit of extra misery to Rowans day, she didn’t suppose that would be an issue.  The grumpy buzzard deserved it.

She passed the kitchen where Sellene was sitting at the counter, a pile of books for school in front of her.  Pausing, Aelin rerouted to just say hi to the Whitethorn cousin.

Sellene, a few years older than Aelin’s twenty-five, had always been a staple of the ranch.  Even when she was doing her schooling, she’d taken time off to help raise her younger brother Endymion after their parents passed, she was almost always at the ranch.  Now that Endymion had gone to his own college of choice, Sellene was now able to pursue her own desires.

“Hey, Sel,” Aelin greeted.  She went to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle.

“Hey Aelin,” Sellene said. “Rowan giving you a hard time?”

“Has he always been so cranky?”  Aelin asked.  She sighed and leaned against the counter as she rested her elbows on the granite.  

Across from her, Sellene chuckled. “I guess you could say that.  Just be glad he likes you.”

“Please.” Aelin rolled her eyes. “He hates me.”

“If he hated you, do you think he’d keep you around?” Sellene raised a brow in question. “He’s an ass, but he knows you work hard.”

Aelin wasn’t so sure of that.  Really, she was convinced the only reason Rowan didn’t kick her off the ranch was because there were no other options for therapists to come out into the area.  It had only taken half a day for Rowan to call her in for an interview when she’d first applied.  The job offer came the next day.

“Whatever you say,” Aelin said. “You want to help me piss him off even more?”

Sellene sighed. “I would love to, unfortunately I am going to be headed out to visit Endymion during his break.  It’s harder for him to leave his job.”

Aelin shouldn’t have been surprised.  In the few months she’d been a part of the homestead she’d learned quickly that the Whitethorn cousins were a tight knit group.  Still, it would have been fun to pit Sellene against Rowan at least for a little bit.

“That’ll be fun,” she said.  “I’m sure he misses you.”

“Oh, I plan on embarrassing him to no end,” Sellene replied seriously. “He’s eighteen and thinks he’s the smartest person alive.  The boy’s gotta learn some humility.”

Aelin snorted a laugh.  Honestly, it was the same thing her own cousin would have said about her. 

Sellene shut down her computer sighed. “But I am going to miss this place.  It’s always the best being here during the holidays.  It’ll be weird not to see it all.”

It was a strange sentiment to share and Aelin didn’t quite know how to respond.  But she didn’t have time to ask about it.  It was already getting late in the day and she needed to call Elide to enlist her help.  And then tell Lysandra to send a deposit Rowan’s direction.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Aelin said, she’d have time to get more information from Sellene later.

“Yeah, good luck, Aelin,” Sellene said, smiling softly.

Aelin offered a wave before she hurried out of the house, phone in hand.  

It only rang once before Elide answered.

“Elide?” she asked. “I need your help.”

…

For some reason, Rowan had thought that Aelin wouldn’t succeed in meeting the three conditions he’d set out for her.  Because, really, how would she be able to convince Lorcan of all people to work over time?

He supposed this was his first lesson in not underestimating her because not half an hour after Aelin left his office the morning, he’d approved the project then he got a call from one Lysandra Cavarre asking for routing information that she could send money to.

By the end of the day, he’d gotten a text from Lorcan.

Your girlfriend’s a menace.

Rowan had stared at the message for entirely too long.

Not my girlfriend.

Lorcan’s brief response said more than anything else could: right.

The brief exchange caught Rowan off guard.  Not only for the fact that Lorcan didn’t insult Aelin, but the mere idea of calling her his girlfriend.  She was the bane of his existence.  In the entirety of her time on the ranch she’d demanded change, created chaos, and riled him up with all her little remarks.

Aelin Galathynius sought to drive him insane.  Even when he tried to return the favor, nothing he did seemed enough to deter her.  She only rose to the challenge.  He guessed he could respect her for that.

Three days after striking the deal with Aelin, Rowan woke early, as he usually did, and headed to the stables.  They still had two weeks of preparation before the holidays but there was still plenty to do.  

Rowan dressed quickly before heading to the kitchen where Sellene had left a smoothie and protein bar in the fridge for him.  When there were kids or other guests staying in the cabins, there was a bigger fanfare made for breakfast.  For now, this was usually what he got.  He’d much prefer making his own food, but he always appreciated the effort from Sellene.

He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl as well and headed out to his truck.  It was barely four-thirty in the morning but that was the life he’d set out for himself.  He’d barely made it down the deck stairs when he noticed the other car sitting in the drive next to his.

Aelin was leaning against the side of her tiny car, wearing a large flannel and jeans tucked into a pair of boots.  In her hands she held two thermoses.  

“What?” She called out to him. “Did you sleep in?”

Rowan crossed the yard toward her. “The sun isn’t even up.”

“Yeah, I hate it.” She took a long sip from one of the thermos’ before thrusting the other at him. “Here.  Black like your soul.”

Rowan stared at the thermos for a minute before he accepted it. “Thanks?”

The morning was dark, not even the horizon had started lighting, yet Rowan could still see the amusement playing in Aelin’s eyes as she watched him.  Her hair hung in a long braid over one shoulder, a few tendrils escaped around her temples.  She didn’t wear any makeup and still there was something so striking about the way she looked.

“It’s not poisoned,” she prompted.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a sip of the coffee.  It was strong and bitter, just as he liked.

“You said I’d need to help pick up the slack,” she said, following him as he walked to his truck. “So here I am.”

If he were being honest, Rowan was surprised.  Aelin had never stuck him as the type to do manual labor.  Or really work for that matter.  Her wealth and status had been obvious the first time he’d met her.  Then there was the car, the designer clothes, the manicures.  When he’d hired her, all he’d received were glowing referrals.  Another surprise.  Even now he was still trying to reconcile his initial impressions of her to who she really was.

“Here you are,” Rowan agreed.  He gave her another once over, unable to help but notice the curve of her hips beneath the open flannel.  Dammit.

Shaking his head, he unlocked the truck.  He could practically hear his mother yelling at him for not opening Aelin’s door for her, but his hands were full.  Besides, Aelin didn’t seem to notice.  She hopped up into the front seat.  Her movements were graceful and easy as though she’d done so a hundred times before.

Rowan settled into his own seat and started the truck up.  There was a small layer of frost on the windshield waiting for them.  His least favorite part of the day was waiting for the heater to get into gear and finally warm up.

“Are you always up so early?” Aelin asked suddenly.  She was huddled in her seat, staving off the chill which was the only thing about the early hour that seemed to be bothering her.

“Yeah,” Rowan said. “Unless Lorcan’s going to be in early.  But I told him to take the later shift until he comes in for your event.”

Aelin hummed at that as she took a long sip of her own coffee. “Interesting.  You should get more sleep.  It’s good for you.”

“I’m in the wrong business for that, princess,” he muttered.

“Don’t call me that,” Aelin said.  She cut him a glare, her lip curling slightly.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because.”  Another sip of her coffee.

Rowan said nothing and tried clearing the windshield.  It cleared well enough.  He at least wouldn’t be out on the open road, so a few skiffs of remaining ice weren’t the end of the world.  Putting the truck in gear, he backed up a bit before turning.

“Are you always such a morning person?” he asked as they headed down the long drive.

“Hell no.” Aelin made a face. “If I had it my way I wouldn’t get out of bed until noon.  This is my second round of coffee.  Do you have any idea how much I am not looking forward to today?  It’s going to be miserable.  The worst.  I hate mornings.”

She spoke with such vehemence that Rowan wondered if there really was a way for morning to be such a real entity for someone to hate.  It was also amusing, especially the way her nose crinkled in disgust.

“It’s a beautiful morning,” he said, clearing his throat. “You can’t hate that.”

“It’s pitch black and I can see my breath,” she deadpanned.  Sighing she adjusted in her seat. “C’mon, buzzard, you wouldn’t rather be in bed still?  All warm and snuggled up?”

“No,” he said.

Aelin chuckled in that nonsense sort of way she had. “Hmm, right.  Even you have to admit a lazy morning in is fun.  With the right company.”

Rowan stared staunchly forward.  Though, he could still see that insufferable grin of Aelin’s out of the corner of his eye. 

“Ignoring me now?” she pressed.

The sight of the stables had never been more glorious.

“No, you’re just impossible.”

“Thank-you.”

Rowan parked the truck in its usual spot and tried hard not to smile.  He settled with an eye roll.

“Let’s go buzzard,” Aelin said.  She threw the door open and hopped out of the truck. “Show me the ropes.”

If there was one thing Rowan knew to be true—it was going to be a long day.  Though as he clambered out of the truck himself, the thought didn’t seem as heavy as it once may have been.

…

In the end, the day wasn’t bad.  In fact, things ran far smoother than Rowan had been expecting.  He’d thought that by having Aelin shadowing him things would go a lot slower and he’d have trouble getting everything done, but she was a ready student.

She handled feed buckets with ease, tied perfect knots on the first try, she even mucked stalls without complaint.  If Rowan didn’t know any better, he’d have said she’d spent time in a barn before.  A lot of time.  She seemed to know her way around the equipment, knew the terms, and sometimes reacted before he even needed to give instruction.

When he tried to ask her about it, she told him he was insane.  

It wasn’t the first time someone had lied to him, but he figured it wasn’t worth trying to needle the information out of her.

The routine continued for the rest of the week.  Aelin would be at the ranch first thing in the morning with coffee and they’d work all day together until dinner when they’d return to the main house.  

“You know you still have a room in the house, right?” Rowan asked one morning. “You don’t have to do this back and forth.”

“Oh,” Aelin looked out her window as they passed familiar pastures. “I guess…I figured you wouldn’t want me there?  Sellene’s gone and all, why not have the place to yourself?”

It was true, Rowan often enjoyed his time alone unless he went into town to have a drink with Lorcan, Fenrys, and Connall.  A recluse, Aelin had called him on occasion.

The strange thing about it was…Rowan didn’t think he would have minded Aelin being around more.  She drove him mad, more often than not, but even in the last few weeks (days really) there had been a subtle shift.  One that he didn’t know how to identify.

“Your friend is coming with the new group of kids, right?” Shifting the conversation seemed the safer option so he didn’t hesitate.

“She and her husband,” Aelin agreed, he didn’t miss the look she gave him. “They were planning on staying at the house, if that’s still alright?”

“Yeah, we’ve got plenty of space,” Rowan said.  The house was enormous with five separate rooms and four bathrooms.  His great-grandfather had always wanted a home to welcome as many guests as possible so new additions were added on continuously in the early years.  His own parents had hoped to keep the house full of children.  In the end, it was only Rowan who waged war upon the floorboards.

Aelin nodded absently, her fingers drumming on her thermos absently. “I’ll come up with them and stay the week before and during.”

“Alright,” Rowan said.  The drive to the stables that morning was the same as ever with only another light dusting of snow falling from the sky.  As late December encroached, it wouldn’t surprise him if they were due for a storm.

“They’ll be coming tomorrow, I think,” Aelin said, “Lys and Aedion.”

Rowan started. “Aedion Ashryver?”

In her seat, Aelin visibly flinched.  She covered it almost seamlessly as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and sat up a little straighter.

“He’s an ass,” Aelin told him. “Though, very good looking.”

Rowan could only stare.  The Ashryvers were practically celebrities in the world of horses and ranch work.  Evalin and her sister Andra made waves when they were young for their work in showing horses, not just in contemporary riding, but racing, and rodeo.  They’d set a standard for those that would come after as they changed the equestrian world for years to come.

He didn’t know much of what had happened to either woman after they’d aged out.  Only that they continued to run a ranch out in the countryside of Terrasen for breeding and training.  He knew there had been a scandal of some sort five or six years ago involving a rider and a trainer, but the story evaded him.

When they got to the stables, Lorcan’s own truck was already there and he’d turned on the floodlights to help beckon in the rising dawn.  They were still a week out from when the Christmas group of kids would come, so Lorcan shouldn’t have even been there.

Rowan glanced at Aelin who didn’t seem the least bit surprised at the sight.

“How did you get him to agree to this?” Rowan asked.

“I can be very convincing,” Aelin replied simply. “And Elide.”

Not sure he wanted to know the full details in that, Rowan let the rest of the conversation drop.

As always, Lorcan remained in his quiet way.  He went about his usual duties without comment, only nodding in acknowledgment as Rowan and Aelin entered the stables.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping in?” Rowan asked.  He rested his keys on the rack beside the doors, not yet ready to take off his coat to the morning chill.

“Couldn’t,” Lorcan replied with a shrug.  He nodded to Aelin. “Regretting your choices yet?”

“Nope.”  Aelin smiled brightly.  She took a long sip of her coffee and went to the row of shelves reserved for personal items.  

Lorcan shot Rowan a look that he ignored.  They’d had plenty of conversations about Aelin and the week she had planned for the holiday.  Besides, if Lorcan couldn’t say no to Aelin (even if Elide wasn’t a factor) they were both idiots.

Knowing better than to try and tease Lorcan about how quickly he’d fallen for Elide, he crossed the stables to where his friend was working on preparing some equipment.

“What’ve you already taken care of?” He and Aelin had gotten a slightly late start for the day--a mix of him waking up late and the frost and Aelin needing to steal breakfast from him. 

“Not much,” Lorcan admitted, “everything’s pretty much good.  The vet’s coming around for check-ups this afternoon.”

“Do you know how the cabins are looking?”

Lorcan shrugged. “Probably about the same as when the last group left.”

That shouldn’t have surprised him. “We’ll go take a look then come back to help prep for the vet visit.”

“Sure,” Lorcan said.  He glanced to where Aelin was kneeling before the ranch pig, dubbed Ex because it had been Endymion’s turn to pick a name.  The finalists of names fell between Frank and Excali-wilbur and Endymion did not disappoint.  “Have you told her yet?”

Rowan scowled. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure,” Lorcan said, scraping off a bit of dirt from an old bridle set. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The words sat heavy with Rowan the rest of the day.  He knew that Lorcan just liked screwing with him on occasion.  But there was also a part of him that worried if there was truth to Lorcan’s ominous words.  He really didn’t see what it mattered though--whether he was going to sell the ranch or not was his own business.

He really didn’t see what the difference was if he continued to owned the ranch or not.  Sellene and Endymion hadn’t expressed any in taking the land over for themselves and they were the only living relatives Rowan knew about.  Theirs were the only opinions that mattered.

Still, by the time he and Aelin finished getting the cabins ready for the guests in the coming weeks, he couldn’t help but feel a niggling sense of guilt.  He kept tamping it down of course.

It wasn’t until mid-day that the vet came around that Rowan was finally able to turn his thoughts in different directions.  They had two pregnant mares in the stables that year which was the biggest concern Rowan had.  They’d both foaled before but there was still plenty of room for things to go wrong.  Besides them, there were six other horses to be looked over.  It was usually a two-day affair, especially when weather got a little dodgy, but the vet seemed confident they’d finish up by the end of the day.

While the vet was in with Farasha, Rowan realized he hadn’t seen Aelin for a bit.  He might have had his misgivings about her, but she’d proven herself to be responsible and attentive in all her recent duties.  Even if she didn’t like horses.

Rowan glanced around the main floor of the stables before heading to the back stalls where the two pregnant mare’s were settled.  It was the warmest part of the large barn with the largest stalls.  His boots scuffed in a bit of hay as he went and he almost missed the soft voice talking to the horses.

Diana and Hessina, thankfully got along alright.  Sometimes pregnant mares could get a little feisty with each other, but the two had been inseparable when they’d been born the same season almost six years ago now.  Rowan remembered the day.

He stopped just outside Hessina’s stall and what he saw made him question just about everything he thought he knew.

Standing in Hessina’s stall with a set of brushes and other items was Aelin.  She carefully ran a curry brush over Hessina’s coat in methodic movements.  All the while she continued to talk softly to the mare.

“Alright, mama,” Aelin said, “let’s get you cleaned up.  You deserve it don’t you?  Especially before baby gets here, huh?  Look at you so pretty standing here for me.”

For a minute, Rowan thought he’d wandered into an alternate reality.  In all the months of her being on the ranch, Aelin had never approached one of the horses so willingly.  She’d kept her distance from the barn and the animals beside the pig and the goats.  He’d never have expected her to spend time with any of the horses, let alone grooming them.  And doing so with obvious practice and ease.

“I thought you hated horses?” he found himself saying.

Aelin froze.  It was the first time he’d ever caught her off guard.

“I never said that,” she replied.  She traded out brushes and ran a shedding blade over Hessina next. 

“You’ve never spent more than a minute with any of the horses in all the time you’ve been here,” Rowan said.

He entered the stall and grabbed a brush to use on Hessina’s mane.  Somehow, no matter what he or any of the stable hands tried, the long hair always got tangled even if they were careful to brush it the day before.

“That doesn’t mean I hate them,” Aelin said.  Her voice was soft, lilting in that way she’d used when she was addressing Hessina specifically. “Not when they’re such pretty girls.”

Her long fingers ran over Hessina’s sides, pausing over the swell of the mare’s belly.  It seemed as though she knew exactly how to handle a horse.  Or at least where to massage a pregnant mare’s muscles effectively or how to run a flat brush over the coat to leave it gleaming.  Truth be told, he’d never seen Hessina looked as relaxed as she did now under Aelin’s ministrations.  No matter what Aelin said, she was a natural.

Rowan tugged at Hessina’s mane with as much care as he could.  But he noted the twitch of her ears.

“Sorry,” he murmured, knowing he’d pulled too hard.  He glanced back to Aelin. “Seriously, you’ve never spent this much time with the horses before.  You know how to care for them.  And you can make a decent knot.  I thought you were a city girl?”

Aelin shrugged, walking to Hessina’s other side. “I am a city girl.”

“No.” Rowan shook his head. “There’s more to you than that.”

They stood across from each other now, more or less.  And Aelin wouldn’t meet his gaze as she brushed out Hessina’s other side.  Her lips thinned and Rowan knew she was thinking deeply on something.  

“I used to read all the horse books I could,” she finally said, “made my mom buy them all for me.  I had a whole bookshelf devoted to them.  And then I grew up.”

Her hands paused, fingers grazing over a few stray bits of Hessina’s mane.  A stray thought took her mind far away from that place.  Far enough that she stopped brushing entirely.  Hessina took offense to that and nickered, dipping her head back towards Aelin.

Chuckling, Aelin reached out and scratched the mare’s nose before she continued brushing.

“What about you, Whitethorn,” she asked, blue eyes sparking with delight as she finally looked at him. “Were you always in a horse boy phase or did it come suddenly?”

He rolled his eyes. “I grew up on this ranch, it’s all I know.”

Aelin paused at his words.  She looked as though she wanted to something, but the words were lost on her.  Instead, she shook her head and nodded at his work.

“You’re making that worse, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said defensively.

No matter what he said though, Aelin came over to take a look at the work he was doing on the mane.

“A girl’s pride is in her hair,” she said, whether to him or Hessina, Rowan had no idea.  

He could only watch as Aelin took over detangling and brushing.  Her hands were soft as she tugged and brushed.  Occasionally she would murmur something and give the mare an affectionate pat on the neck.

What he didn’t notice was how close he and Aelin were standing, not at first.  But the second he realized it; it was all he could think about.  He could feel the warmth radiating off of her and he could still smell the lemon verbena of her shampoo in her hair.  Even with the bit of sweat and dirt that lingered on her skin.

There was something about watching the methodical way she worked that was mesmerizing.  Nothing seemed to frustrate her as she went even when something didn’t detangle immediately or if she had to make a bigger mess in order to get things right.  She would only hum under her breath and continue.

“Do you—” she began to speak and spun almost directly into him.  She made a small noise of surprise and stumbled just a bit before Rowan reached out to steady her.  “Hell.  Sorry.”

She blinked up at him with those bright blue eyes and he noticed a ring of gold around the pupils adding to that light that always seemed to illuminate her.

Gripping her arms, he waited until she regained her footing before slowly pulling away.

“You good?”

Aelin nodded; mouth parted slightly as though she were about to say something.

The illusion shattered when Lorcan called out from the main stable.

“Whitethorn, get out here!”

It was probably better that way—for Rowan to leave Aelin there.  She turned back to Hessina and kept talking with those soft words and gentle inflections.  Whatever spell had been over them was long gone.  Though that was for the better.  Rowan didn’t need to get close to Aelin.  Not now.

So, he tried to forget about the last ten minutes and went to help Lorcan with whatever it was he needed.

…

When she was eighteen, Aelin had her first serious crush.

It was different than all the other little sparks she’d ever gotten before.  It was different, new, and completely reckless.  Oh, she’d never acted on it, not exactly.  And maybe it was better that way.  Because in the coming year (and several years after) Aelin would come to realize that boys, men, would never treat her well.  Especially not the ones that had country written into their bones.

So when she came to Whitethorn ranch at the beginning of the summer, she’d told herself it was for the experience.  It was for the work she loved.  It was for the kids who needed help.

And then there was Rowan.

They’d clashed the entirety of their working relationship and Aelin really didn’t know how she’d lasted as long as she did.  And here she was now, on the brink December and the New Year right around the corner.  

She sighed and straightened the small room designated for her at the main house.  Rowan had let her off for the two days leading up to the main camp days when Lysandra and Aedion would be arriving.  

The room was the next biggest aside from the master suite that Rowan slept in.  With its own bathroom and the large window that overlooked the back western side of the ranch with the mountains in the distance—Aelin loved it.

It was already decorated with a few things of the Whitethorn family.  A few black and white photos from the early days, hand embroidery frames, and a few porcelain figures in the inlaid shelving.  It was simple and homey and for whatever reason, Aelin didn’t feel the need to change anything.  Except for the piles of books and a few pictures of her own family.

As she straightened things up, and prepared the bedroom across the hall for Lys and Aedion, she couldn’t help but think of the last few days with Rowan.

She didn’t know how it was possible, but they hadn’t killed each other.  There weren’t even any attempts.  Sure, their words held just as many barbs as before, but it felt different.  Or maybe she was just hoping there was something different.  

For as much as she complained about how small Oakwald was and how difficult working on the ranch and the therapy work here was--she wanted to make this home.  She wanted this to be a place she could put down roots.  Here, no one knew her past.  No one knew who her family was.  No one knew every little detail about who she was other than simple being Aelin.

Her phone started ringing at the same time a series of honks echoed from the front of the house.  Grinning, Aelin answered the phone already knowing who was on the other line.

“Are you here?” she demanded.

“Bitch, what do you think?” Lysandra said on the other line.  In the background Aelin could hear Aedion: stop honking the horn, Lys.  She knows.

“I’ll be down in a second,” Aelin chuckled.

She flew from her room and down the stairs of the house.  She barely bothered with the slippers waiting by the front door before she threw the front door open.

The SUV hadn’t even come to a full stop before the passenger door opened and Lysandra got out.  Her long dark hair hung loose and she wore a simple gray sweater and jeans.  She screamed when she saw Aelin and ran across the yard toward her.

Aelin met her halfway, pulling her friend into a hug.

“I’ve missed you so much!” Lysandra was saying as she continued to hug Aelin. “It’s been so boring without you.”

“I’m sorry I left you alone with Aedion,” Aelin teased.  She pulled back, grinning.

Aedion huffed as he came around the SUV.  His blond hair, so similar to Aelin’s, long enough to just barely fit into a low tie, his handsome features slightly distorted with a scowl.

“I love you too, Aelin,” he said, trying and failing to hold his disapproving look.

Aelin launched herself at her cousin.  It had been a while since they’d seen each other between work and distance.  But she was grateful he had chosen to come and help both her and Lys.

“You do love me,” she insisted, “I introduced you to your wife, after all.”

Aedion pulled back with a roll of his eyes. “Yes, I’m forever in your debt.”

“I know,” Aelin said seriously.  She then turned and linked arms with Lysandra. “C’mon, I’ve got a room ready for you.”

Her friend didn’t immediately follow through, instead turning in the cold morning air, taking in the sweeping blue skies and acres and acres of land surrounding them.

“Seriously, Aelin, where are we?  This feels like a step out of time.”

She’d thought the same thing when first arriving. “It’s better in summer and you're not freezing your butt off.”

Indeed, during the winter the sun could be out and bright and happy like it was now, but it was still cold enough to want to literally crawl into a fireplace and never come back out like some sort of dragon.  

Aedion offered to get the bags, letting Aelin and Lysandra head up to the house.

“So,” Lysandra said as they went to the kitchen. “Where’s Rowan?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “He’s at the stables finishing things up.”

“But he’ll be here later?” Lysandra pressed; one brow raised.

“Yes.”

“And you’ve been sleeping under the same roof and nothing’s happened?” Lysandra scoffed and accepted a proffered glass of water.

“Please, Lys, he’s my boss.  And an ass.” Aelin turned to find snacks or something else to offer while her cheeks flushed at Lysandra’s words.

“Mm-hm,” Lysandra hummed with obvious doubt.  “I’ve looked him up, he’s hot.”

“Lysandra!” Aelin spun on her friend who let out a cackle. 

“You should see your face,” Lysandra laughed. “You know I’m right.”

“He’s made my life miserable,” Aelin said, “and, like I said, he’s an ass.”

“Right.”  Lysandra merely sipped her water and sighed. “You keep saying that.”

Much to Aelin’s appreciation, Aedion entered the house, bags in hand.  She left Lysandra in the kitchen and showed Aedion to the room she’d set up for the two of them.  It was the one room just a little more isolated than the others, but that just made it feel a little cozier.  Which she didn’t think they’d mind.

From there, the rest of the day was relatively nice.  Even with Lysandra’s continued teasing about Rowan.  Thankfully, she kept most of it up when Aedion wasn’t around.

Aelin gave them a tour of the house and immediate grounds before heading out to the cabins reserved for the kids that would be arriving in the next several days.

She and Lysandra were able to go over the various activities and group sessions and plan out where each would take place and how transport would work.  Thankfully, the main house was a good central point and should the weather stay nice, walking wouldn’t be an issue.

“There’s supposed to be a storm,” Aelin said at one point, “but they’ve been saying it would happen for two weeks now, and nothing.  I think it’ll just hit Denver and move on.”

That was the hope.  But Aelin wouldn’t let herself worry about a snow storm right now.  They had a contingency plan in place, but the weather had been cooperating thus far that she doubted it would be an issue.

Later that night as they were fixing dinner, Aedion broke out his excellent cooking skills with a chicken and vegetable skillet, Rowan finally returned home. 

“Welcome back, Buzzard!” Aelin called when she heard the door open and shut.  She also heard the way he paused while trying to decide if he could get out of being social. “We just made dinner, come join us.”

Lysandra shot her a look, but Aelin ignored it.  Instead, she got an extra plate ready as Rowan slowly trudged into the kitchen.

“This is Lysandra and Aedion,” Aelin said, “Lys founded the group that we’re hosting next week.  And her husband, Aedion, is the muscle.”

She didn’t know why she didn’t mention that Aedion was her cousin, but the admission just felt off.  Aelin had spent so long distancing herself from her mother’s name and the attention that it got that it just felt natural not to bring it up.  Besides, that wasn’t the point of this visit or the event they’d worked so hard on.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Rowan said, he didn’t smile, but Aelin supposed him joining them all for dinner was good enough.

“We’re just running through the week,” Aelin said.  She handed him his plate which he accepted. “Is there anything you wanted to talk about with the itinerary I gave you?”

Rowan didn’t answer immediately.  He settled in his seat next to her and took a bite of his food, thinking.  Or just avoiding talking.

“Nah,” he said after a minute. “Everything looks fine.  There’s going to be ten kids in total?”

“Maybe eight,” Lysandra spoke up, “it’s a little hard to get exact numbers right now.  Some kids are being shuffled so close to the holidays and their guardians are being…difficult.” She made a disgruntled sort of face. “But I know for sure eight of them are ready to go.  The other two we’re waiting on some consent forms.”

It wasn’t anything surprising to Aelin. But they would make the best of it and hopefully all the kids they’d planned for would come.

“There’s plenty of room no matter who chooses to come,” Rowan said, “so that’s not a problem.”

“You said you’re not going to be around on the Friday after Christmas though, right?” Aelin asked.  He hadn’t told her why or what he was doing, just that there was business on the ranch that needed taking care of.  She thought better than asking for more details especially when he was so guarded about the affair in general.

Rowan paused for a heartbeat in his ravenous eating and Aelin almost wouldn’t have noticed if not for the way his eyes skirted to hers and dipped away just as quickly.

“I’ve got a meeting planned most of the day,” he said, “but if anything goes wrong—”

“They’ll be fine.” Aedion spoke up with a wave of his hand. “If there’s anyone who knows how to embrace chaos to her advantage it’s Aelin.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, passing the water pitcher around the table. “I stole my dad’s truck once and it worked out fine.”

“I’m talking about the time you set off all those fireworks and nearly set the house on fire, but thanks for proving my point.”  Aedion grinned at her glare.

Rowan only shook his head from beside her. “What the hell kind of childhood did you have?”

“Normal, perfectly normal.” Aelin said.  Desperate to keep the conversation moving and away from any revelation of how she and Aedion were related, she kept talking.  “Besides, none of that will be happening this week.  I didn’t have time to find any fireworks.”

“Please,” Lysandra said, “you don’t even try not to cause problems.  Remember in college you stole that frats keg?”

“Because Archer Finn plagiarized my report on Edgar Allen--you know, he was an ass that’s all that matters.” Aelin had done a lot of questionable things in the name of justice.  But stealing that keg was damn near the top of the list considering the fact she nabbed it in the middle of the biggest party of the semester.  Truly remarkable. “So it was less of a problem and more karma calling his name.”

“So,” Rowan said, glancing over at her, “you really have been a menace all these years?”

She should have been affronted by his teasing but with the way he was actually smiling with amusement burning in his eyes and the levity of the night—Aelin found she couldn’t be mad.  Because here, for this small moment, Aelin wasn’t scared about what the future might hold.

…

Despite the teasing of her cousin and Lysandra, Aelin really did exist best in chaos.  She wasn’t at all intimidated when the week officially started for the outreach program.  She didn’t even have panicked stress dreams about it either.  Everything had been planned out in detail.  It was going to be a success.

And everything her friends had done to help make it possible just warmed Aelin all the more.  Between all that Lysandra and Aedion did on their end, to Elide volunteering her days when she wasn’t needed at the bar, and Lorcan willfully helping out (through whatever bribery Elide had offered), everything started off without a hitch.

The thing about therapy that Aelin loved the most was the breakthroughs.  The understanding that came with trauma and healing.  It was often a long hard journey, but it happened.  And when you worked with kids?  It made the work all the better.

The week wouldn’t be focused on the talk therapy of it all though.  Mostly they’d be going on hikes, cooking in the main house, learning about the horses and caring for them, and then a little of the therapy side.  This week was about feeling safe and finding joy in an otherwise hard spot of life and Aelin was determined to help offer that bit of peace.

After all the kids arrived, twelve total and ranging from twelve to seventeen years old, everything continued as expected.  The kids were paired off closer to their ages into the two different cabins and it all seemed to be working for the best.

Aelin found that two of the younger kids, Evangeline and Luca, were the more hesitant of being there.  Despite Luca’s outgoing nature, Aelin could tell there was a bit of worry in his attitude as he always seemed to look to her for approval in any of the activities they did.  Evangeline always sidled over to Lysandra.  It wasn’t a strange occurrence, just one they needed to be careful with.

Though, if Aelin knew Lysandra like she did, her friend had done work with Evangeline before and was fiercely protective of her now.  

“How many s’mores can these kids eat?” Rowan asked one night.

They were having an outdoor campfire with s’mores and other treats while Elide of all people told scary stories.

“Sugar is an essential food group, buzzard,” Aelin reminded him, “especially for teens.”

They stood just a bit away from the fire pit outside two of the cabins, just far enough away to not be distracting.  It was Thursday meaning the week would officially finish out on Monday and the ranch would be able to return to its usual winter hours and day to day functions.  Aelin was a little upset by the idea, but she was sure Rowan was as giddy as he could be over the prospect.

“I thought that was just you,” Rowan said.

Aelin kicked him with the toe of her boot.  If her hands hadn’t been stuffed into the pockets of her coat, she might have flipped him off.

“Ha, ha,” she said. 

“Seriously,” Rowan continued, “I’ve seen the stash you think you’re hiding in the kitchen.”

“Chocolate is good for the soul,” Aelin sniffed, “and I recommend the occasional indulgence as a therapist.”

Rowan shook his head, looking out over the fields behind them.  A ghost of a smile fell across his lips and even in the flickering shadows of the fire, Aelin thought it was the most beautiful sight.

“Occasional indulgence, sure,” he murmured. 

“We can’t all love kale as much as you do,” Aelin said.  She’d seen what he came home with from the store.  Kale and zucchini and any myriad of health foods.

He only smiled at her and Aelin felt it like a punch to the gut.  She had no idea what had happened in the last few weeks, but somewhere along the way the loathing had simmered away to…appreciation?  Admiration?  Whatever the feeling was, she didn’t know where it came from, but it was here all the same.

“Thank-you for agreeing to this Rowan,” she said, before she could lose her nerve. “For agreeing to let us host this week and letting these kids come here.  I know it’s not the most convenient thing.  But I know it means a lot to them.”

And me, she added silently.

His smile fell just a touch. “Aelin—”

Whatever else he was about to say was swallowed up by Lysandra announcing it was time to head off to bed.  The quiet contentment of the night disbanded as the kids all voiced their complaints and pleads for another story.  Apparently Elide’s tales about bloodthirsty witches were all the rage.

But it was well nearing eleven and they’d all been up late enough as it was and Aelin herself was exhausted.  They rounded everybody up and had them filter off to their cabins.  Elide and Lorcan would serve as chaperones that night, giving Lysandra and Aedion a break.

Hopefully it would put a stop to a small issue growing between Luca and one of the other boys, Aelin didn’t know all the details as Luca refused to talk further about it, but she was worried nonetheless.  And even if she wasn’t sure about the idea of Lorcan as a chaperone, Rowan assured her that he was surprisingly good with kids.  Aelin decided she would trust Rowan on that front, and let the issue slide.  For now.

…

Friday dawned dark and chilly.  The sky was full of gray clouds that stretched as far as the eye could see.  It made Aelin feel boxed in even if there was still just as much open air as before.  But those clouds hung low and didn’t budge.

She tried to not let it bother her, it was bound to happen eventually.  And in this area the weather was always changing.  By the afternoon there would be a break in the clouds and the sun would return.  Or else they’d just get a light skiff of snow.

The day was being treated as a small rest day, of sorts.  The kids had helped cook breakfast for everyone, played a few games outside, and they were now headed out to the stables to help build a shed for the goats.  

It was less of build and more of a supervision.  If the kids wanted to help they could, if not, Aelin had it on good authority the goats enjoyed chasing people as a game.  Plus, one of the stable hands that had volunteered to help out was a master sling-shot expert and could take the kids to the side of the barn to practice their skills (on non-living targets).  

They got to the stables just after lunch and clean-up.  This was going to fill most of the rest of the day and then lead into a few individual sessions with the kids.  No one had mentioned that it was Christmas or anything of the sort and none of the kids seemed to be having any major issues.  But Aelin wanted to have a chance to talk with them and see if this week had helped them at all.  From what she could tell it hadn’t done any irreparable damage, but kids could be excellent at masking their emotions if they really wanted to.

As the building commenced, Aelin took note of Rowan’s truck outside the stables in its usual spot.  Beside it was another car, a Tesla of all things.  She’d thought Rowan was supposed to be in a business meeting, not at the stables.

She made sure the kids were all occupied doing what they were supposed to, or at least just having fun, before she walked over to where Lorcan was exchanging water for one of the troughs.

“Is Rowan here today?” she asked without preamble.

Lorcan raised a brow and leaned against the fence, balancing the empty blue water barrel beside him.  “What?”

“Rowan,” she said, gesturing to his truck. “I didn’t think he would be on the property today.”

Looking away from her, Lorcan ran a hand over his jaw.  It was obvious he was trying to decide what to say exactly and that made trepidation rise in Aelin’s throat.

“He’s here, I can’t tell you more than that though.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Lorcan said, pushing off of the fence, “that you can talk to Rowan about it.”

He walked away then, leaving Aelin to mull over the words that she already didn’t like.  She watched him trek back to the stables and a part of her expected to see Rowan walking out as though waiting for that exact moment.

It was foolish, she knew.  Whatever worry was gnawing at her gut was unfounded and she didn’t need to get caught up on this.

Aelin forced herself back to where the kids were helping out with nails and plywood, a few had wandered off to stack crates together which the goats started climbing on with ease.  She came to a stop beside Lysandra, stuffing her hands into her coat against another stiff breeze.  The air smelled cold, if that could even be a scent.  But she didn’t know how else to describe that stiff, clean sterility.

“What’s up?” Lysandra asked, leaning into her.

“Nothing,” Aelin replied, glancing one more time at the stables.  “Nothing, it’s fine.”

Lysandra didn’t look convinced.  She remained quiet though as she returned her attention out to the paddock of goats and kids.

Aelin did her best to try and pay attention to the kids and offer encouragement and commentary where needed, but her mind was elsewhere.  Which, she knew was stupid.  She shouldn’t be thinking about Rowan and what was going on with him and his “business meeting” if that’s what was really going on.  And she shouldn’t even care whether or not it was for business.  Right?

A part of her did care though.  A part of her wondered what his meeting was about and why he hadn’t gone into detail about it with her.  She knew they weren’t technically business partners, but she did a lot of work for him all the same.  And the things that she did were specific to the business and therapy modem that Whitethorn ranch was known for.  Shouldn’t she be at least a little involved?

Half an hour later, Aelin had almost completely distracted herself until she heard the sound of Rowan’s low voice.  She spun towards it, already knowing what she would say to him.  But the second she turned it wasn’t Rowan that caught her attention.  It was the well-dressed man walking beside him.

Aelin felt her entire body seize up as a cold numbness swept through her.  Static crackled in her ears and her mouth went dry.

Because there beside Rowan was the man who had ruined Aelin’s life.

With auburn hair hanging loose around his face and gray suit that never seemed to wrinkle or stain--Arobynn Hamel looked the same as the day Aelin last saw him.  She still hadn’t been released from the hospital after the accident, still unsure if she’d be able to walk again, and still unsure what her life would look like.  But she’d held on to hope.  She’d held on long enough for him to come and place blame directly on her shoulders before sauntering away as though he couldn’t have cared less about what happened to her.

She’d been nineteen then.  Nineteen and convinced that he was supposed to be the answer to all her problems.  That was the thing about glorifying people when you were a kid, you never understood just what a dangerous game that was.

She tried reaching out for Lysandra, but her friend had entered the goat paddock to help hold a few boards in place.  She was alone.  Alone and watching the second Arobynn saw her.  He immediately made a b-line towards her.

“Well, well,” Arobynn said as he approached.  Just as he’d always been, he had that cold arrogance about him.  It was the same sort of swagger than everyone in their circles had.  The kind of money and stature, that he was better than everyone else around him.  He had to be in his mid-thirties now.  Though, he didn’t look it.  He was just as handsome as ever. “Aelin.  What a pleasant surprise.”

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer.  Swallow and look past that perfectly charming smile he wore. “Hamel.  What are you doing here?”

Arobynn merely smiled, stretching his arms. “You don’t know?  Rowan and I are in the midst of a business deal.”

Behind Arobynn, Rowan appeared.  He looked just the same as he always did: brooding, stoic, and pissed to hell and back.  His green eyes flicked between Aelin and Arobynn, scowl deepening.

Aelin felt the pit in her stomach grow and she swore she was going to vomit.  She did her best to remain in control of her emotions as she looked at Rowan.

“What deal, Rowan?” she asked.  Though, she already knew the answer, didn't she?

“I’m buying the land,” Arobynn answered before Rowan could. “I’ve been expanding my business, didn’t you know?”

No, she didn’t.  Because Aelin had done everything in her power to avoid anything that had to do with Hamel in the last several years.  

As though sensing her distress, Arobynn flashed another sharp smile. “I look forward to working with you again, Aelin.  Just like old times, isn’t it?”

There was nothing she could say.  She couldn’t trust herself not to yell or scream or cry or any combination of the three.  That would be showing weakness.  And she was not weak.

“I’ll have my attorney look over your offer,” Rowan said quietly, drawing Hamel’s attention again. “We’ll be in contact.”

“Good,” Arobynn said, “I’d rather see this done sooner than later.  Whitethorn.”

Without any semblance of pleasantries, Arobynn left them and returned to his car.  That stupid silver Tesla that looked like a box and had no business being out on a farm.  For all Aelin cared it could go crash in a borough and get waylaid by hay and snow.  It wasn’t until the car silently pulled away and back down that Aelin felt her own voice return.

“You’re selling?” It was more of an accusation than anything.

Rowan straightened; arms still crossed over his chest. “Yes.”

“Why?” At least her voice wasn’t shaking.  At least she still sounded somewhat in control.

“Because I have to,” Rowan replied, but he looked away from her and Aelin knew that wasn’t the truth of it. “The why doesn’t even matter Aelin, you wouldn’t understand.”

A laugh escaped her.  Of course she wouldn’t.  Because she’d only been here a few short months, she wasn’t really a part of the life here or any of where the ranch had come from.  But she’d still put her blood, sweat, and tears into the ranch.  She’d wanted to see it succeed, that’s why Rowan had even hired her as a part time trauma specialist, wasn’t it?

“I know enough about this place,” she said, “it’s a staple of the community, of honest good work that no one else does, Rowan.  I know that much.  I understand that much.  That it’s helped more people get unstuck from life than just about any other program I’ve seen.”

He only shook his head, hand running through his hair.  The silver locks fell over his brow and for a moment, for one brief moment, Aelin thought she saw a part of him that she could reconcile with.  A softer allusion of the hard contours that Rowan often displayed.

“My reasons are my own,” he said firmly.  His eyes sparked with anger as he watched her. “And it doesn’t really matter beyond that. I can't keep doing this.  And--why do you even care?  It won’t even affect you that much.  Hamel’s going to keep it as a horse ranch mostly, and agrees with the work going on.  I don't think he'd change much.  He obviously likes you, so you can do whatever you want.”

Aelin couldn’t hide her flinch.  She tucked her arms around her middle more as an effort of protection and hiding than anything else. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please, Aelin.  You don’t need me here,” Rowan said, “this place will do well enough without me.”

“So you’re giving up?” She could only stare at him.  This wasn’t the Rowan Whitethorn she’d come to know, the one that she fought with on a daily basis.  This was someone else entirely.

“It’s none of your business, Aelin.”

“I’m a part of this ranch, aren’t I?  I’ve been here for months, and for what?”

“I never asked you to stick around.”  Rowan let out an exasperated huff. 

“He’s not a good man, Rowan,” Aelin said.  Most of the fight had gone out of her, replaced with dread and pain. “You don’t want him buying this land, your home.”

“He’s rich, what does it matter?”  Rowan pressed. “He’ll be able to do more with this place than I ever could.”

Aelin could only shake her head.  Yes, Arobynn was rich.  Rich enough that he could whatever he wanted, consequences be damned.  She tilted her head up just in time to catch a snowflake on her cheek.  The small chill was electrifying on her hot skin.  Slowly, more flakes continued to fall, fat and thick it looked like the forecast had finally chosen to be right.

“I can’t do this,” she finally said, “I’m going to check on the kids.”

She didn’t wait for Rowan to try and call her back.  She didn’t realize until she was entering the goat paddock that she had wanted him to.

…

It wasn’t until later that night as the kids were eating that Aelin had a moment to talk with Lysandra.  The snow had picked up and continued to fall throughout the afternoon driving them all inside, which after a week full of activities and being outside continually--it was a welcome break.

They were inside one of the cabins, pizza and soda spread out for the kids to enjoy.  Almost everything about the day had gone well.  If you didn’t count the Hamel matter.  The distraction and reality of what her life was spiraling towards wasn’t the best way to head into individual sessions, but Aelin had learned long ago how to compartmentalize.

Now, she was able to feel a little more relaxed as she and Lysandra were able to sit back while the kids started a terrible round of UNO.

“He’s so lucky I didn’t see him,” Lysandra said around a mouthful of pizza. “I would have kicked him in the balls then dragged his ass around from the back of a tractor, you know I would’ve.”

“I know,” Aelin assured her.

She picked at her pizza, appetite long since gone.  All she could think about was the fact that she’d seen and spoken with Hamel.  And she’d survived it.  

It was strange, being faced with a reality you thought was finally put behind you.  But that was life, wasn’t it?  You just kept learning the same lesson over and over again.  She just wondered what she was supposed to learn this time around.

“Did he say anything to Rowan?” Lysandra asked. “Does Rowan know anything?”

“I hope not,” Aelin said.  That would just be icing on the cake.  

Her past was a mess as it was.  Rehashing it and telling her side of things after someone had already been exposed to the lies of the story—well it wouldn’t do any good.

Still, Aelin didn’t want to think that Rowan knew about what had transpired.  Or if he’d think any different about her over it.  Most people did when they learned the truth and even if she was mad at him, Aelin didn’t think she could bear Rowan looking at her any different.

The story began back when she was sixteen.  Sixteen and in the throes of series equestrian training.  And she wasn’t the type to show in the dressage.  Aelin was a competitive rider in barrel racing, jumping, and the grittier events.  Her former trainer had just moved and who was to fill the position than Arobynn Hamel.

His methods were brutal and his words were cruel.  But young as she was, Aelin could only see what he could make of her.  And her parents had been none the wiser either.

Even after the drugs and borderline abuse.

Aelin shook off the memories. “It doesn’t matter if Rowan knows or not, does it?  He isn’t going to stick around.  He made that clear.”

“Are you going to stay,” Lysandra asked.  Her voice was painfully soft and Aelin had a hard time meeting her friend’s eyes.

“No.  I can’t…I can’t be around Hamel again, Lys.”  Aelin set her uneaten pizza aside. “After everything…I thought I finally had a place, you know?  That this was a good fit for me.  Even if Rowan’s an ass and doesn’t like me.  I liked the work.”

“Maybe if you talked—”

“No.” Aelin shook her head, cutting Lysandra off before she could even begin. “Rowan won’t talk it out.  He’d just sell the place faster if it meant getting rid of me.”

Lysandra sighed. “I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes. “Whose side are you on?”

Lysandra didn’t answer, instead waving as Elide walked through the door, leaving a blistering trail of snow outside behind her.

“I hope it’s alright to stop by,” Elide said with a smile.  She grabbed a piece of pizza and settled between Aelin and Lysandra. “Lorcan’s still finishing up at the stables.”

“Good,” Lysandra said, moving over so Elide had plenty of space. “We need to talk sense into Aelin.”

“I’m not a miracle worker, you know,” Elide replied.  She grinned all the same and nudged Aelin’s leg with her foot. “What kind of sense are we talking?”

Aelin groaned, shaking her head.  One of the counselors took a few of the kids to the other cabin to prepare for bed.  It was nearing that time where they would all turn in.  The growing storm outside made the night feel sleepy and dark.  Not that Aelin minded.  Sometimes a lazy night was just what she needed, especially when she could curl up with a book.

“Lysandra thinks I’m being too hard on Rowan for deciding to sell the ranch,” Aelin told Elide, careful about how loud she spoke.  She didn’t want to risk upsetting the remaining kids or the other counselors.

Elide’s eyes widened at the news.

“You can’t tell—” Aelin said quickly.  She shouldn’t have even told Lysandra about Rowan’s plans.  Even if Lorcan already knew about Rowan’s decision, it was just in bad form for Aelin to be gossiping out it.

“I won’t,” Elide assured her.  “I promise.”

What Aelin had done to deserve friends like Lysandra and Elide, she didn’t know.  As she tugged on the end of her braid she didn’t know where to begin.

“I know I don’t really have a hand in this ranch or can’t tell him what to do,” Aelin said, “but I’ve put so much work into it that…”

Aelin let her words trail off.  Did it really matter what she’d done?  He obviously didn’t care enough to listen to her.  She couldn’t care.  She shouldn’t.  Because in the end, she always came out alone.

She was going to tell her friends that she was fine and it didn’t matter when the shouting started from the other cabin.

--

Back at the main house, Rowan and Aedion were settling everything in for the night.  After baking four giant pizzas for the kids (delivery drivers refused to drive all the way out to the ranch and the weather had taken a bit of a chilly turn) they settled in to watch the latest football game.  

What he didn’t expect was for Aedion to strike up a conversation.  

“You know,” Aedion said as a commercial break started, “I’ve never seen a place like this ranch before, it’s pretty remarkable what you’ve done.”

Rowan really didn’t know if that was true.  All he’d done was come in after his grandparents and parents established everything for him.  The last few years it felt like he’d barely been treading water.  Until the last few months when Aelin had swept in with her binders and her plans and damned conspiratorial smile.

“I haven’t done much,” Rowan replied.  Mostly kept everything afloat as best he could. “It’s mostly been Aelin bringing things back to life.”

It really was an apt description of the woman.  She was vibrant in the way she approached everything she did.  Never did she let anything pass by that was half-hearted or untended.  Rather, she made sure it was taken care of properly.  It was probably what made the fall season so successful.  No…no probably about it, it was what made the season one of the best in several years.

“She does tend to do that, doesn't she?” Aedion laughed. “It’s annoying as hell, because then she thinks she’s always right.  Which, I mean, technically she is always right, but she can’t know that.  She’d be insufferable if we told her.”

Rowan shook his head in agreement.  Though, if he thought about it, Aelin had enough confidence that even if she were wrong about something she would make things work in the end.  She had the faith and the sheer force of will to see something accomplished that an obstacle was merely a stepping stone to what she wanted.

“So,” Rowan began, a thought occurring to him as he thought about his own understanding of Aelin. “How do you know Aelin?  I never got that story?”

That earned him an amused look from Aedion who sat up straighter.

“She’s an Ashryver, you know,” Aedion said slowly, “as in Rhoe and Evalin Ashryver Galathyinius.”

Rowan froze at the pronouncement and slowly, painful understanding washed over him. “What?”

In the chair across from him, Aedion shook his head, blond hair falling in his face.  

“Doesn’t surprise me that you didn’t know,” Aedion chuckled wryly. “She doesn’t use her mom’s name very much, considering...But yeah.  Ashryver-Galathynius.  We’re cousins, were raised together through just about anything.  I was there in all of Aelin’s training when she really got into the horse scene.  She was the national champion in racing and show three years in a row until the accident.”

Rowan could only stare blankly at Aedion.  He didn’t know how he’d missed the similarities, hell, their eyes were even the same.  Why wouldn’t Aelin say anything?  Especially when he had given her so much crap about being a city girl.  She could have shut him up without any effort.

Though, at Aedion’s mention of an accident, he remembered something vaguely happening in the world of showing and competition.  That side of the horse world was something he’d never stayed completely caught up in.  Especially not years ago when he’d been so busy with taking the ranch over.

“She was nineteen, it was going to be her fourth year in a row of winning that championship,” Aedion explained, “and she’d put herself through hell for it.  She kept herself in the best shape, hardly ate.  Was always training.  Her trainer—” a sour look flashed over Aedion’s face— “her trainer wouldn’t leave well enough alone and always pushed her further than anyone should go, not at that age.  It was never proven, but I’m pretty sure they slipped her drugs and the horse too because they were racing barrels which is Aelin’s best event and next thing you know the horse gets spooked and Aelin goes flying.”

Aedion paused, running a hand over his jaw as he stared into the fireplace. “It’s a miracle she wasn’t paralyzed.  Or worse.  Arobynn never even got a slap on the wrist for it.”

Rowan’s gut churned in a sickening way.  “Arobynn Hamel?”

The dark look in Aedion’s eyes was answer enough.

Rowan remembered all the times in the last several months of how he’d berated Aelin for her lack of knowledge on a ranch, how she shied away from the horses.  He’d accused her of so many things that he just hadn’t known about.

“She recovered eventually,” Aedion said, “but I don’t think she was ever the same.  She never got on a horse again after that.  But she volunteered a lot at various stables back in Terrasen or at those camps for kids with autism, y’know?  Kinda like what you do here.  And then she got her degree and has talked about applying for a doctorate.  Damn.  She was always going to become something.”

“I didn’t know, about her past, I mean,” Rowan murmured.  His fingers tightened on the drink in his hand, long forgotten in the conversation.

“It’s why she tends to drop her mom’s name,” Aedion said, he shot Rowan a wry smile. “She doesn’t want that to be all people associate with her.  Her parents love her, don’t get me wrong, but they always put so much pressure on her.  Rhoe and Evalin practically raised me too and I got the same treatment.  The Ashryvers aren’t known for weakness.”

If there was anything Rowan had learned in the past week, it was the truth of that sentence.  Aelin was so much more than the city girl he’d first thought her to be.  Everything she had done in her time on the ranch had been to help the kids and families that came through.  She had worked so hard to turn this place into a functioning therapy ranch and she’d done a damn good job at it.

And he’d gone on to sell the ranch.

Not that he really owed the explanation to anyone.  Sellene was guilt-tripping him enough as it was.  But he’d found the last few months to be more bearable.  Somehow.  Impossibly.  Even with Aelin being as difficult as she was sometimes.  But that was what he liked about her.  She challenged him.  She made plans and got things done.  She was fearless.

And he’d gone on to sell the ranch.

The one place she’d said made her feel like she was coming home.

“I need to--” Rowan began, already reaching for his phone so that he could call her.

He didn’t get far though when the front door opened with a loud thud.  Rowan was on his feet in an instant, for some reason thinking it would be Aelin.  Instead, it was Lysandra and Elide with a very distraught Evangeline.  The young girl had tears streaming down her cheeks and snow was still melting in her hair from the storm raging outside.

“What happened?” Rowan demanded, already sensing the trouble afoot.

Evangeline shrunk back into Lysandra, shaking slightly.  Rowan doubted it was from the chill.  He cursed himself for adding to the girl's distress.  If he remembered correctly, Evangeline was in between foster homes as the last place was unsuitable.  That scar on her cheek was fresh enough that Rowan could guess what unsuitable meant.

He softened his voice. “Is everyone alright?”

Evangeline squeaked, her hair falling in her face.  Behind her, Lysandra made a soothing sound as she gently brushed Evie’s hair back.  Her glare cut right into Rowan making it clear what she thought about him.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Lysandra said, “you’re not in trouble.  Just tell Rowan what happened.”

Evangeline sniffed loudly and nodded. “It was Luca.  He and Derek got in a fight when we were playing a game and Luca left and I told him not to but—” Evangeline forced a shuddering breath “—but he left anyway out in the snow.  So I went and got Aelin and Lysandra.”

“Aelin went out looking for him,” Lysandra finished quietly.  She gave Evangeline’s shoulder a tight squeeze.  “But it’s turning into a blizzard out there, I don’t know how far either of them will get.  We left one of the other counselors to keep an eye on the rest of the kids.”

All Rowan could register in that moment was Aelin is out in the blizzard.  It took his remembering that they were all looking to him for answers for him to snap to attention.  He turned to Elide.

“Lorcan?” He asked.

“Finishing up in the stables,” Elide said, “he’s probably still there.  And probably let her take a horse.”

Rowan doubted that.  Even if Lorcan wasn’t fond of Aelin, he wouldn’t let her go out in this weather.

“Try calling him,” Rowan said, “see what he knows.”

When Elide nodded and stepped away, he looked back at Evangeline who was still shaking against Lysandra.

“It’s alright, Evangeline,” he said, “you did the right thing by letting us know what happened.  Are you still cold?”

“N-no,” the girl stuttered softly.

Rowan held out a hand to her anyway. “Come have a seat by the fire, I’ve got hot chocolate in the kitchen too.”

Hesitantly, Evangeline accepted his offer.  He got her settled in the chair he’d vacated and found one of the many fleece blankets Aelin had left lying around.  After wrapping her up, Aedion had his phone out and played a Disney movie to distract the girl.

The adults huddled together in the kitchen while Rowan readied the promised hot chocolate.

“Lorcan said that Aelin took off on one of the mares,” Elide said quietly.  She still held her phone to her ear, the call with Lorcan active. “He wants to know if he should go after her.”

“I’ll come out to the stables now, have him wait for me,” Rowan replied.  He pulled a freshly heated mug from the microwave and dumped in a cocoa packet.  It wasn’t the best but it’s do in a pinch.  Besides, knowing that Aelin spent so much time up here there was bound to be whipped cream in the fridge and marshmallows in a cabinet.  “I’ll ride out with him.”

Lysandra took the mug from him. “Then go.  I’ll finish this.  I don’t know about riding horses.”

Rowan looked at Aedion who shrugged.

“I mean,” the other man said, “I know how to stay on.”

“Good enough,” Rowan said.  He turned to Elide next. 

“I’ll wait at the barn with blankets and flashing lights,” she said before he could get a word out. “Now let's go, the snow is only going to get worse.”

It was more than enough to kick the rest of them into action.

After finding all the spare coats, socks, and blankets they could, they piled into Rowan’s truck and made the quick trip across the drive to the stables.  All Rowan could focus on was the snow.

It no longer fell in thick innocuous fluff, rather it had turned to tiny flecks of ice that could cut skin.  The heavy wind didn’t help anything either.  The weather had quickly dissolved from mediocre to abysmal in the span of an hour.  The snow was no longer sticking to the ground, instead billowing in icy white clouds all around them.  Any semblance of being on an actual road was lost.

Rowan tried not to let it bother him.  He tried to remind himself that Luca wouldn’t get far in this weather.  Aelin was an experienced rider…even if she hadn’t been on a horse in nearly ten years.  His gut still churned in trepidation and a mild sense of panic set his heart to racing.  It was fine.

They reached the barn to find the side door open and Lorcan’s outline waiting with two horses already geared up and ready.  

Piling from the truck, Rowan threw on his coat and grabbed the thick goose down parka for when they found Luca.  He wrapped a scarf around his face as best he could to protect from the wind.

Aedion had the same idea.  He’d also found a hand to pull down over his hair and ears.

“No,” Lorcan said as soon as he saw Elide’s smaller form emerge from around the truck. “Absolutely not.  Go back to the main house.”

Had her arms not been full of blankets and spare coats, Rowan expected Elide would have flipped her boyfriend off.

“Make me.” She gave him a look that offered no room for argument and slipped into the stables.

Lorcan turned to Rowan, fury clearly written in his face.

“She’s going to stay back and keep the lights on for when we make our way back,” Rowan told him.  “She’ll be fine.”

In any other situation, Rowan was sure Lorcan would have argued further.  Instead, he passed off the reins to Goldryn.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said.  He then turned to Aedion to offer the other horse.  Rowan had no doubt a third was already saddled and bridled just inside the doors.

Rowan made no promises as to what sort of decisions he would be making.  He merely got one foot in the stirrups and hauled himself up.  They’d wasted enough time and he wanted to get out there and find both Aelin and Luca.

“Rowan!” 

He turned to see Elide running towards him.  She waved an object in one hand, a flashlight.

“Phones will be useless,” she explained. “And I can’t find any walkie-talkies.  Morse code, yeah?”

Smart.  He accepted the light and clicked it on and off again. “Thanks.”

“Just find them.” Her dark eyes were pleading but nothing else about her smaller stature betrayed any of her worry.  When Rowan nodded in assurance, she turned back to the stables.  Rowan tucked the flashlight into the front of his coat before finally turning towards the direction he thought Luca would have gone from the cabins.

As the wind picked up and sent another cloud of snow to wash over them, Rowan tensed for a moment before urging Goldryn on.  They had some ground to cover before they made it to the cabins.  But it had been at least twenty minutes since Luca had run off.  Even with the terrible weather, a determined kid on the run could do a lot of damage.

“C’mon girl,” Rowan called, nudging Goldryn into a canter.

He knew this land better than anyone.  And he wouldn’t let anything happen to Luca or Aelin if he could help it.

…

Ice cut into Aelin’s skin as she and Farasha continued through the snow.  She hadn’t thought to grab a scarf or face covering, hadn’t thought to find a thicker coat.  The best she’d grabbed was a thin lap blanket.  All she’d heard was that Luca ran off into the storm after an argument with one of the other kids.  She would have thought about strangling Luca if she weren’t so worried about him.

“Luca!” she called out, wincing at the cold wind nearly choking her own voice.

She hadn’t even let her own panic take over at the thought of riding again.  She’d saddled up the large horse in record time and told Lorcan to ready two other horses for him and Rowan to come search with her.  It hadn’t even occurred to her that Rowan may not come, may not care as much as she did.  But even if she was pissed off at him, she couldn’t imagine that he would stand idly by when a kid was caught out here in the weather.

Her fingers were stiff as she gripped the reins, grateful at least for that bit of distraction.  It had been ages since she’d been on a horse and ridden.  After breaking her back in a nasty fall and dealing with the repercussions from Hamel, she had sworn she would never get on another horse.  She had sworn she would never return to this life.  But here she was because all she wanted to do was help the kids who needed it.

She shuddered and not just from the cold.

The terrain wasn’t terrible, even with the way the rolling snow covered the ground and how dark the night had gotten.  Even in the last seven months Aelin had grown used to the land.  She’d spent hours walking, running, and just enjoying the ranch.  Between walks with the kids she worked with or helping with moving the small herd of goats from pasture to pasture—Aelin felt like she knew the ranch as well as anyone.

Yet, as the wind continued to howl and the snow beat relentlessly against her side, Aelin had the sickening feeling she was getting lost.  She fumbled for her phone and pulled up the flashlight.  It hardly made a difference, in fact, the light was swallowed up almost as soon as it left the phone.

Aelin bit her lip to keep from cursing.  She didn’t want any more cold air in her mouth finding its way down into her lungs.

How long had she been out here?  An hour?  Two?  How long would Luca last with just his pajamas and simple coat?  

Beneath her, Farasha grunted.  It would only be a matter of time before the horse had had enough and would insist on turning back.

With numb fingers, Aelin patted the horse’s neck.  They would find Luca.  They had to.

The only logical direction Luca could go from the cabins was the main house.  But if he were too embarrassed or upset, he may just go in the opposite direction.  But all there would be was darkness.  Empty and heavy.  Or…or maybe…

Aelin thought back to the first day Luca had arrived and when she’d showed him the old homestead.  It was an old cabin that Rowan’s great-grandfather had first lived in upon buying the land.  She’d told Luca the same story Rowan had told her: with hardly any money his great-grandparents made that tiny cabin a home until they could till the land and make a living come spring.  They’d survived against all odds and used it as a sign of a new beginning.

Spurring Farasha on, Aelin took off for the cabin.  Luca had been enthralled by the story, asking question after question, he even asked to visit the cabin a second and third time.  

Okay, okay, okay. It was the only thing Aelin could think that wouldn’t send her into a different sort of plummeting thoughts.  

Even as the icy wind and sharp snow continued their assault, she told herself that everything was okay.

Aelin was beginning to lose hope, letting the soul wrenching feel of dread rise up within her.  It had been too long.  There was no sign of the cabin nor of Luca.  

This was her fault.  It was all her fault.

A flicker in the distance caught her attention.  A shadow mingling with the already thickly cloying shadows and manipulations of the storm.

“Luca!” Aelin yelled.  As Farasha continued diligently on, the small old cabin came into view and there, trekking towards it was a small hunkered shape. “Luca!”

The shape stopped and Aelin heard a voice in the wind.  Hope rose within her, beating against the dread and panic.

“Hold on!”  Sensing her urgency, Farasha pressed on, though Aelin could tell it was with reluctance.  

It took several agonizing minutes to move the few yards closer to the cabin but they made it.  And there, trying desperately to reach the old cabin was Luca.

Aelin let out a string of curses as she slid off of Farasha.  She gripped the lap blanket in one hand, keeping it close as she ran to Luca.  The boy couldn’t reach out to her, his arms wrapped tight around him.  His coat was too thin for this weather, his old boots unlaced.  Aelin swore his skin was blue, not just his lips.

“A-a-aelin?” he stuttered, the sound of her name was too soft from his mouth.

Aelin threw the blanket around him.  She pulled him against her and wrapped her arms around his middle as she tried to rub warmth into his limbs.

“What were you thinking?” she asked, unable to curb her own panic.  “Luca.  Luca.  Luca.”

The boy trembled against her.  He was trying to talk, to apologize, but Aelin kept him tugged against him so tight his words were muffled.

Ice stung Aelin’s eyes as she pulled away and knelt before him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, speaking over the sound of the wind.

He nodded even as his body still shook.  Hell.  

Aelin drew Luca back against her side. “It’s going to be fine.  I’ve got Farasha and we’re going to get back to the house.  Everything’s fine.”

She wasted no time in leading Luca to the horse.  She boosted him up into the saddle, helping him scoot as far up as he could.  Aelin braced herself as she scrambled up on the horse behind him.  The motion wasn’t as smooth as it could have been.  Combined with lack of practice, cold, and, admittedly, fear, Aelin didn’t let it bother her.

Once settled, she pulled Luca against her chest and reached for the reins.

“We’re alright,” she told him.  What else could she say?  “We’re going to go back to the house and get you warmed up.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Luca chattered. “I knew I shouldn’t have left.”

Aelin shushed him gently. “It’s okay.  Everything’s okay.”

Luca trembled against her chest but fell quiet as he tucked his face into the blanket, she’d given him.  The wind had picked up and snow swirled around them.  Aelin squinted, trying to keep ice from pricking her eyes.  It only made tears start to well and track down her cheeks.  In a matter of seconds, she could feel her skin freeze.  Aelin dared not blink for fear of her eyes freezing shut.  Instead, she tapped her heels against Farasha’s side.

Even with the added load of Luca, the horse surged forward.  Aelin had no idea if they were headed in the right direction.  All she could do was hope that the horse had a better sense of where they were than she.  But with how dark the night had fallen and the increased snowfall, Aelin couldn’t help the panic welling within her.  She had found Luca, sure, but that was only half the problem.  

Now they had to trek back through the storm to the stables.  Aelin guided Farasha as best she could, but the sheets of snow that swirled around them certainly didn’t help.

To ease her own worry, she wrapped an arm around Luca, keeping him close.  He was still conscious, which was good.  She tried asking him questions to make sure he stayed that way but after a few rounds of feeling like her throat was freezing and Luca’s continued shudders--she stopped.  

Come on, she thought to herself.  She was strong enough to do this.  Strong enough to get Luca back safely.  Even if no one else thought much of her--she could see this through.

And then what?  She’d be out of a job.  Likely forced to move back to the city and she didn’t want that.  She didn’t want to stay here either if what Rowan said was true.

If Arobynn Hamel took over the ranch Aelin knew she couldn’t stay.  Hamel was cruel to say the least.  Vindictive, arrogant, abusive.  He had pushed Aelin beyond her limits and was the reason her life had changed forever.

She wanted to hate Rowan for what he had planned.  But how could he have known?  She never talked about her past as it was.  It wasn’t even any of his business if she did leave.

Damn him.  Damn him for giving up on this place in the first place.  And damn him for making her think that she almost had a home here.

A shiver rolled through Aelin’s body.  How could she still feel the cold?  Everything was numb at this point.  She didn’t even know how she could remain upright in the saddle, let alone hold the reins.  But the cold had settled in so deep that it was simply an extension of who she was now.

They passed by a fence post that Aelin didn’t recognize.  Or did she?  Was it the one along the easter paddock?  That meant they were near the stables right?  

The top of the post only had a thin layer of snow on top, the barbed wire extending along to the next post already had icicles forming.

As if sensing her unease, Farasha moved a little faster.  But, really, there wasn’t much the horse could do.  Not in these conditions.

Aelin tilted her face up to the sky, as though that would do anything.  All she could see was the mass of snow and ice continuing to fall.  The gray sky overhead a mass of terror and pure power.  Never had she felt so insignificant until that moment.  She was a small speck in comparison to the universe overhead.  

She dropped her head again and stared forward, willing herself to see some chance of hope.

There was nothing.  Nothing but white.  Nothing but gray.  Nothing but--

A flash of light.

Aelin straightened in the saddle and stared at where she’d seen the flash.  She hadn’t imagined it.  She couldn’t have.

There it was again!

A quick flash followed by a longer one.  The flashes continued in somewhat the same manner, like morse code.  

Aelin’s fingers were too stiff to try for her phone.  She would have dropped it before managing to get it unlocked.  All she could do was guide Farasha towards the light.  Aelin had never learned morse code beyond SOS.  But she’d been out on this land plenty of times and she knew there weren’t any strange flashing lights around.  And these flashes seemed too deliberate in any case.

It was the only reassurance she could hold on to.  That and keeping Luca in one arm.

Another few minutes passed on until Aelin could hear a voice on the wind.  She didn’t register it at first, but it was familiar.  The shout came again; long and steady.

“Luca!  Aelin!”  Their names were drawn out into multiple syllables but it was someone shouting for them.

Not just someone.  Aelin would have recognized that voice anywhere.

The flashlight beam grew stronger the closer they got and Aelin could soon make out a shape sitting astride a horse.  

“Rowan,” she whispered, more to herself than anything.  Because who else could it be. “Rowan!”

It was only a minute later that had Goldryn loping toward them with Rowan.  He still had the flashlight in one hand, beaming brightly against the night.

“Aelin!” he yelled.  He drew in close, close enough to grab her shoulder.

The flashlight helped illuminate him enough that Aelin could see the taut lines of his face, his eyes wide in panic.  The scarf around his lower face had fallen away and snow was building up in the creases.  But it was him.  He was here, staring at her like she was the greatest damn thing he’d ever seen.

“We’re fine,” she said, loud over the storm. “But we need to get Luca warmed up.”

Rowan dropped his gaze to the boy who was still pressed against Aelin’s chest.

“Let's go,” he said, “it’s not that far.”

Aelin could only nod as he turned Goldryn and led the way to the stables.  Farasha, blessedly brilliant beast that she was, followed without any prompting.  

The tightness in Aelin’s chest loosened with each step made.  They had made it.  It really was going to be alright.

Quicker than Aelin realized, the stables came into view.  Bright light from the floodlights broke through the storm and she could see the doors were cracked open just a bit.  Two other horses were by the doors being tended to.  It took Aelin several moments to realize it was Lorcan and Aedion waiting there.  They soon disappeared into the barn, taking the two horses with them.  

When Rowan and Aelin reached the stable doors, both men had returned.  Lorcan wasted not time in coming to Aelin’s side.  He grabbed Luca from the saddle, hauling the boy into his arms and taking him inside.  Aelin could only stare after.  She had no idea if she could move, let alone blink.

It wasn’t until Rowan appeared in her line of sight that she did blink, miraculously without frozen eyes.  She had no idea when he’d gotten off his horse but here he was right beside her.  He reached out, one hand going to her side as he gently tugged her off of Farasha.

She fell into him.  It was an accident, really.  But her body was still numb and she might have been in shock, but she went tumbling off of the saddle in as inelegant a dismount as could be imagined.  Rowan’s arms stayed around her, keeping them both upright.

“I got you,” he murmured into her ear.  He kept a firm hold on her as she slowly regained her balance.

Somehow, he still had warmth to share.  As he kept her tight in his grasp, Aelin could practically feel her own body leeching it off of him.  She was desperate to feel anything other than the raging cold threatening to freeze her entire body.  

Lorcan appeared in another minute and helped with Farasha, Aedion took control of Goldryn.

Rowan led Aelin into the stables that were already infinitely warmer than the storm outside.  There seated on a few bales of hay was Elide, well at work with getting Luca wrapped in a fresh blanket and tugging a hat over his head.

“You’re half frozen,” Rowan said.  He kept walking Aelin away from the opened doors of the stables.  “What the hell were you thinking?”

Aelin could only stare at him.  

The familiar scowl was in place and his brow was furrowed as he worked to get her out of her wet coat.  A thin and useless coat, he pointed out.  He replaced it by draping a thicker one over her shoulders, holding it in place when she didn’t take it herself.

All she could do was stare at him.  He had come for her.  He had gone out into that storm and came to find her.  Luca too.  But with the way he was staring at her and brushing the messy strands of hair from her face--all Aelin could really process was that he was here for her.

“You’re fussing,” she managed to whisper.

“Of course I’m fussing,” he said, incredulity spreading across his face. “Aelin, you’re freezing.”

Of course she was.  She’d spent the better part of an hour (more?) searching through a blizzard on a horse looking for Luca.  Her entire body shook with cold and a mild panic of what she’d just accomplished.

Rowan tugged the coat tighter around her as he kept talking.  But Aelin couldn’t hear what he was going on about.  A shrill ringing started in her ears blocking almost everything else out.  And then the shivers wouldn’t stop.  Her entire body was shaking and it was all she could do to stay on her own two feet before she pitched forward straight into Rowan, vision going black.

…

When Aelin woke, she found herself surrounded by a thick warmth that engulfed her.  It was far welcome from the dreams of freezing snow and wind that she’d had all night.  Grateful for the thick blankets tucked all around her, Aelin snuggled in deeper, breathing in a familiar scent of pine.

Her eyes snapped open with sudden awareness.

She wasn’t in her own bed.  

Pain lanced through her head as she tried sitting up.  The sheer weight of the blankets piled on top of her was enough to keep her down though, for at least a minute longer.

What the hell had happened?  Her body ached as though she’d run a marathon and she was certain her toes were frozen solid and—

And there had been the blizzard.  And Luca.  And she’d gotten on a horse and rose out into a blizzard to find him.

That thought alone spurred her on.  She shoved the thick quilts aside, pausing only at the patchwork of the top blanket that was a blend of greens and silvers in a pattern she couldn’t quite make out, but it was handmade.  She could tell that much.

Aelin then realized that she was in Rowan’s room.  If not for the scent of pine and the obvious splashes of green throughout the decoration, then the picture on the bedside table.  It was of a boy no more than ten with a shock of silver hair standing on a dock that overlooked a lake.  In one hand he held up a fishing line with a giant fish dangling from the hook.  Beside him was an older man, his father, who had a proud grin on his face as he wrapped an arm around the boy.  And there was another picture of a woman with tan skin and brilliant green eyes smiling down at a bundled baby in her arms.

She was in Rowan’s room.

The thought shocked her enough that she remained seated on the edge of the bed right up until the door opened.  Mind still reeling, Aelin could only watch as Rowan himself slowly stepped into the room.

He stopped immediately upon seeing her awake and sitting up.  Dressed in his usual attire of jeans and flannel she almost would have guessed she hadn’t been asleep that long.  If it hadn’t been for his disheveled hair or the stubble on his chin and cheeks.

“You should be asleep,” Rowan said.  He held a cup of water in one hand and slowly walked it over to her, setting it on the bedside table she’d just been examining.

“I was,” Aelin replied, even with the short words her voice rasped with disuse and exhaustion. 

Rowan who now stood just before her, his knees brushing hers, reached out and brushed a few messy strands of hair from her face.  His fingers were warm against her skin and the calluses rough as they scraped gently along her cheek.  The expression in his eyes held something Aelin wasn’t sure how to read.  She’d thought she’d gotten decent enough at interpreting Rowan that it unsettled her just a bit.  

Instead of the depthless sea of green she was so accustomed to, he was now guarded and hesitant.  Compared to his usual assurance and confidence--Aelin was at a loss of what to say.

“Drink this,” Rowan said, filling the silence.  He pushed the glass of water into her hands along with a few pain pills and the granola bar. “And eat.  The pills will settle better with something in your stomach.”

Aelin set the items aside. “I’m fine.”

“Aelin.”

The warning in his voice had Aelin’s hackles rising.  She set her jaw and glared right back at him.

“I’m fine.” 

They stared at each other, neither budging.  And they could sit there all day for all Aelin was concerned.  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep or of any of the other details of her passing out, but she did know she was still pissed Rowan and she would hold out for as long as--

“Please,” Rowan said, voice uncharacteristically soft, “just eat something.”

The breath stilled in Aelin’s lungs.  When had she ever heard him say please?  It was such a strange word coming from him that Aelin automatically reached for the granola bar and unwrapped it.  She took a few bites before swallowing the pain pills with some of the water.

“Happy?” she asked, placing the water back on the bedside table.

Rowan, as expected, remained silent.  When he turned aways from her, Aelin thought he was going to give her some peace and quiet, but he was only putting a little distance between them. Which was probably for the best considering Aelin was having a difficult time breathing normally when he was so close.  She would blame it on nearly getting hypothermia.  That was it.

“Do you have any idea how stupid it was for you to go out like you did?” he demanded.  He’d stepped back closer to the window, pale light filtering through the thin curtains to illuminate him enough that Aelin could better see the outlines of his face and the stiff way he held himself.

“I was trying to find Luca,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Get help,” Rowan said, “it was a blizzard Aelin, what if something had happened?”

“Exactly.”  She rose to her feet, blinking back the fuzzy blackness along the edge of her vision.  She wasn’t going to let him berate her. “I couldn’t let something happen to Luca.  He was my responsibility.  It’s a miracle I found him at all.”

Aelin waited expectantly for him to say something else.  To continue to tell her how stupid she was, how upset he was.  That she’d made mistake after mistake.

But he didn’t.

Rowan stood before her, hands on his hips and lips pressed tight together.  Silent.

“I wasn’t going to leave him,” Aelin said, and she was shocked to find emotion beginning to clog her throat. “I couldn’t.”

And then Rowan did the absolute last thing she expected.  He hugged her.

One moment he was two feet away looking as mad as she’d ever seen him, the next he was pulling her into a bone crushing hug.  His arms wound around her, one hand buried in her hair to keep her close.  It took Aelin a few seconds to reorient herself but she carefully returned the hug.

Several different questions and emotions swam through Aelin’s head.  Most of which dealt with the variety that Rowan was actually displaying affection of one sort or another.  He wasn’t a stone wall of silence in that moment but someone who cared.  At least, that was how she chose to interpret this display.

“It’s alright,” she found herself murmuring. “Everything’s fine.”

She realized belatedly that the anger she’d felt rolling off of him was actually fear.  That he’d been scared for her.  She marveled at it really, that Rowan Whitethorn would be worried about her.  

Aelin gently eased back, just enough that she could look at him with a bit more clarity.  Her entire body was still brimming with exhaustion, she could feel her own tiredness thudding through her bones with every beat of her heart.  It was only a small, dull ache though in comparison with the unyielding depths of Rowan’s dark eyes.

She didn’t go far though.  The warmth radiating off of him was welcome, feeling almost as though she were back in bed and wrapped in the many blankets.  Being so close to him was strange, different.  She’d never allowed herself to get so close to him before that now, being held by him--she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so safe and secure.

“Sorry,” Rowan said, though he didn’t release her entirely as one hand trailed softly along her side.

Not knowing how to navigate any of this--Aelin avoided a direct response.

“How’s Luca?” she asked.

“Fine,” Rowan said, “he woke up twenty minutes ago and is perfectly fine.”

“Good,” she said, genuine relief flooding her. “That’s good.”

“We had him and Evangeline stay in the house, Evie stayed in your room,” Rowan went on to explain. “Because the weather was so bad, Lorcan and Elide stayed the night too.  They’re with the rest of the kids down at the cabins.”

“Rowan, I,” Aelin began, knowing that she did at least owe him a little of an apology.  In part for her recklessness (though they would both know she wasn’t really sorry) and for the way she acted after learning about Hamel. 

“Don’t,” he said, quick to cut her off.  His fingers dug into her sides grounding her right where they stood. “You don’t need to say anything.”

“I’m sorry,” she said anyways, he gave her an exasperated sort of look that made her smile. “Not about Luca, I stand by going after him, but Hamel.  There’s more to that than I’ve told anyone.”

Rowan cleared his throat, eyes flicking away for a brief moment before resettling on her. “Aedion might have told me a little about that.  And about…”

He trailed off when Aelin turned away.  She didn’t know why she did, why she wanted to ignore her past and lock it back up again where no one, not even she, could find it.  But she did.  Because she knew how it sounded, how it looked.  The spoiled rich girl from the good background with everything at her beck and call falls into a mess of drug use.  Even if she hadn’t known about it.

When the backs of her knees hit the bed, Aelin collapsed onto the mattress.  She was exhausted anyways and really just wanted to sink back into the blankets and fall asleep.  Maybe pretend none of this had ever happened.

“I ended the deal with Hamel,” Rowan said.  “Literally just got off the phone with him to tell him I wasn’t selling anymore.”

Aelin felt her jaw fall open as she stared up at him. “You what?”

If there was anything he could have said to shock her, that was it.

“I’m not selling,” Rowan repeated.  He looked as serious as he ever did, not a fleck of emotion on his face.  It was a strange beauty he held, Aelin thought at that moment.  The hard planes of his face, his sharp jawline, and the full curve of his lips—all of it combined together in such a way that nearly stole her breath away.

“Why not?” she whispered. “Not to him or not at all?”

He swallowed, throat bobbing.  Aelin thought it curious, why would he care about this so much to end the deal that, as he’d said, would bring in a great deal of money?  And why would he care enough to not want to talk about it further?

“No deal at all,” Rowan said, “my attorney’s processing a formal citation for it now.”

“Why?” she asked again.  Why did she care so much?  Was it her own love for this ranch that has somehow developed over these brief few months?  Was it no more than the desire to know that Hamel was getting screwed over? 

This time when he came towards her, Aelin didn’t move.  She only watched as he slowly drew closer until once again, his knees knocked against hers.  He hovered over her, his broad frame blocking out the light from the window.  But he wasn’t imposing, wasn’t a cruel thing engulfing her.  It was just Rowan.

“I couldn’t do that to you,” he said. The admission sent shivers running along her arms, racing down her spine. “Not after, everything.”

“Everything,” Aelin repeated, trying hard to ignore the way her heart was hammering in her chest and how her stomach dipped at the low timbre of his voice.  “It was the binder, wasn’t it?”

She couldn’t help the teasing words.  The binder that had outlined this week of kids coming to the ranch had included a brief plan of continued action to take on seeing more progress made for various revenue opportunities for the ranch.  Really, Aelin hadn’t expected Rowan would read much into it.

Rowan snorted a soft laugh, head tilting up as though he were looking to the heavens for help.

“Yeah, I guess that was it.” His words weren’t convincing.  Not even in the slightest.  Especially not when Aelin saw that small spark in his eyes, the way he was so close yet still so far.  And Aelin, despite everything that had happened, wanted him closer.  Rowan, she knew, was too chivalrous and wouldn’t do anything to push her over whatever line they were toeing.

She reached up, fingers grazing the hem of his shirt, the fabric soft against her skin.  

“I told you it was—” Aelin never had the chance to finish teasing him further when he swept in to kiss her.

It was a soft brush of his lips against hers, barely anything at all.  And still it made her breath catch, caused goosebumps to race over her skin.  She arched into him, eagerly seeking out of his touch.  She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so wild in her own skin.

Rowan cupped her cheek with one hand as he drew her closer. The deepening kiss nearly drowned her.  He paused only once, hovering before her in a silent question.  Aelin responded by fisting her fingers in his shirt and dragging him to her.  His lips turned insistent against hers, drawing a small sound from her throat.

In all her time at the ranch, Aelin had never known Rowan to be so gentle or careful.  But the way he treated her as though she were something to be cherished, something to be loved—it had her heart seizing in her throat.  

She wanted more, needed more, and given the way Rowan’s hands ran through her hair and down her sides she knew he did too.

Which, of course, was when a soft knock came at the bedroom door.

“Aelin?”  It was Lysandra come to check on her.

She and Rowan broke apart, putting just enough distance between them.  There was no guilt or regret in Rowan’s eyes, rather a promise just for her.

Aelin straightened, adjusting her mussed shirt.  “Come in.”  She reached for the half-eaten granola bar and started to finish it off, just so she could have something to do with her hands and maybe detract from what she and Rowan had been up to.

The look on Lysandra’s face said she wasn’t convinced.  She raised a brow, fixing her look solely on Rowan before turning to Aelin.

“I told him not to bother you,” she said.

“I was already awake,” Aelin said honestly.  

Lysandra hummed, her mouth curving into a smirk. “Sure.  Well, there’s a real breakfast downstairs.  And Luca wants to thank-you in person for finding him.”

“Thanks, Lys,” Aelin said.

Her friend waited a moment longer before turning to leave.  She left the door open behind her.

Aelin waited until Lysandra disappeared down the stairs before she rose to her feet.  She was tired and still a bit achy but she knew that if she and Rowan remained up here any longer it would only result in an embarrassing call out.  That or Aedion would be sent to collect them.  And for her cousin's health and Rowan’s own sanity, Aelin thought it best not to avoid the inevitable.

Automatically, she reached out for Rowan and took her hand in his.  She laced their fingers together and gave him a small squeeze.

“I never did thank-you,” she said, stepping closer to him, willing to snatch just one more moment.

Rowan arched a brow. “For what?”

“You came to find me,” she said, “even after everything.”

His face softened and Rowan brought their clasped hands up between them, brushing his lips across her knuckles.

“I’ll always come if you need me,” he promised.

Aelin smiled, unable to help it.  For the first time in ages, she felt a small bit of joy begin to kindle deep in her chest.  Where once it might have scared her, now it was a welcome feeling, one that she would keep close deep within her.

“C’mon, buzzard, before she sends Aedion up to get us.”  She tugged him to the door with her so they could join the fray awaiting downstairs for them.

And over the next few days, Aelin wouldn’t know what the future would bring.  She didn’t know if anything would happen between her and Rowan or if this was some strange moment shared together.  She didn’t even know what would happen with her career.

What she did know was that she wanted to fight for it, whatever may come.

…

Epilogue—Six Months Later

It was the howling of a dog that woke him at six in the morning, not his usual alarm.  At first, Rowan was keen to ignore it and instead try to fall back asleep.  But the dog howled again, mostly out of need for attention than anything else.  He rolled over in bed, one arm reaching out to the warm body beside him.

“Your child is calling,” he grumbled.

Aelin cursed from where she was tangled in the blankets. “You’re the one that bought her.”

Indeed, Rowan had purchased the dog that let out another howl outside.  He’d figured if he were going to keep the ranch, they should have a dog.  What he hadn’t planned on was the little demon to end up being almost exactly like Aelin.  He should have known.

Snorting a laugh, Rowan tugged her closer, ignoring the way Aelin’s blonde hair was splayed out messily, nearly engulfing him.  He wrapped a hand around her waist, keeping her close.  She was soft against him; curves and angles fitting perfectly with him.  No matter how many times they woke like this, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to it.

Aelin rolled over in his arms so they were face to face and she could hook her leg over his hip.  Already she had one hand buried in his hair as she settled down again.  Rowan cracked an eye open to watch her.

Eyes closed and a look of contentment on her soft features, Aelin still remained the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.  The nightgown she wore was a poor excuse for covering.  The thin straps had fallen down her shoulders and left her chest almost perfectly exposed.  The hemline rode up far along her thighs.  And he was well aware she wasn’t wearing underwear beneath.  

He had no idea how they’d come to this point—no idea how he’d managed to not screw things up beyond measure.  Given the way they’d started—they by all means should still hate each other.  But here they were, tangled together in a mess of limbs.

He realized too late that she’d opened her eyes.

“Staring?” she asked.

“Always.”

Aelin grinned in that delightfully bright way she did.  It was enough to strike any man dumb.  Taking advantage of his distraction, Aelin swooped in for a quick kiss.

“I’ll take care of the dog if you make me pancakes,” she said, already climbing out of bed.

Rowan, however, had another idea.  He snatched a hand out, catching her wrist to pull her back down on the bed.  Aelin yelped in surprise, nearly falling on top of him.  She caught herself though, one hand braced on the mattress next to him.  Golden hair fell around them as a curtain, a tangled, messy curtain.

Leaning up, Rowan caught her mouth in another kiss.  This one far more than a simple peck.  Aelin sighed against him as one hand trailed along his bare chest, her fingers working in soft caresses at his side.

As he deepened the kiss, Rowan sat up and wrapped an arm around Aelin.  He pulled her fully into his lap, fully intending to have a proper morning together when the alarm clock finally went of and that damned dog started another round of howls from outside.  Groaning, Rowan tried keeping her close for just a moment longer.

“Sorry cowboy,” Aelin said breathlessly as she pulled back. “Our child is calling.  And you’re going to be late.”

She brushed her fingers through with a fond smile before getting out of bed.  This time Rowan let her go, though he wasn’t happy about it.  

Aelin threw on a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt before she ran downstairs, calling for Fleetfoot the entire way.

In the six months since the blizzard that brought them together, many things had changed.  Normally Rowan would have shied away from it all.  Change never meant anything good.  It meant things would be different, that there was a new reality set forth before him.  And, always one to stay the course, he’d never pursued much beyond what he already knew.

But he supposed the change Aelin wrought within him was just what he needed.  And not just in keeping the family ranch.  But she made him want to be different, to be better.

After he changed, Rowan headed downstairs.  Aelin was outside with Fleetfoot, the golden lab that was supposed to be a herd dog but much preferred human company than goats.  He watched them through the kitchen window as Aelin threw a ball for Fleetfoot to chase.  

The golden sun already illuminated the sky setting everything alight.  Spring came swiftly and full of new opportunities.  And for once, Rowan didn’t dread it.

Even though he was running behind, Lorcan would kick his ass for it, Rowan whipped up a batch of pancakes and already had a few on the griddle by the time Aelin and Fleetfoot scampered back inside.

Fleetfoot pranced around happily and dashed into the kitchen to make sure Rowan knew she was there.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rowan said as the dog rubbed against one of his legs. “Go ask your momma for treats.”

Aelin instead fixed Fleetfoot’s food dish with the allotted portion of kibble.  Though, Rowan knew the dog would get at least one treat before the hour was out.

While Fleetfoot attacked her breakfast, Aelin came and wrapped her arms around Rowan’s middle.  She pressed her forehead into his back and sighed as she rested against him.

“You didn’t have to make pancakes,” she told him quietly.

Rowan flipped the few that were on the griddle before turning to accept a full hug.  He brushed the escaping bits of hair that flew from her bun out of the way and shrugged.

“I wanted to.”  

“Hmm,” Aelin hummed and pressed up onto her toes to kiss him.  Chaste and sweet, the kiss still held a lingering promise of what exactly she wanted to do to him. “Well, thank-you.  But you should go.  Lorcan’s going to be pissy enough as it is.”

“Yes dear,” Rowan said.

He let Aelin take control over the pancakes and grabbed a protein bar from the fridge before heading out for the day.  He paused when he reached the door looking back at Aelin as she pulled the batch of pancakes from the heat.

“I love you,” he said.

She looked up, blue eyes dazzling with her smile. “Love you, buzzard.”

The door closed softly behind him as he hurried down the porch to his waiting truck.  Beside it was the SUV Lysandra and Aedion had left behind, taking Aelin Audi with them once the snow let up.  The chrome silver was spattered with mud and dust looking as though it perfectly belonged where it was.  The sight brought a small smile to him.

His truck rumbled down the road to the stables where they would already be preparing for the first spring camp of the season.  They were expecting fifteen kids in total with another week planned for the wait-listers that hadn’t gotten in the first time.  

The day after the blizzard, Rowan officially terminated any agreement with Hamel that had been talked about, just as he’d promised Aelin he would.  They’d faced some backlash, but it was remarkable just what a few loyal names could do to help make things right.  Though, Aelin’s own determination in not letting the man have any more control over her said enough.

Now she worked in town at the singular therapy office, providing help to those who wanted.  When she wasn’t there, she was at the ranch helping him and continuing to plan and host events for more kids and individuals seeking help and comfort for their traumas and other mental health concerns.  Just like she’d always wanted.

Rowan drove past the wide-open field of the ranch his family had called home for over a hundred years.  And when he glanced in the rearview mirror at the ranch house fading into view behind him, he hoped that it would remain that way for a few more generations after.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

<3 reblogs appreciated.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Hi! I think Season 5 was a really weird time to invert the love square - it just kind of happens, and the reasons don’t feel very organic, to say the least - I think fandom already has enough to say about it (and hey, you’ve probably talked about it too!)

So if you had to do it (keeping in mind 5 seasons, and canon’s overall structure), where would you invert it? I’ve had this question for a while, and recently arrived to, I’d do it in Miracle Queen, possibly show Marinette or Adrien reconsidering in a post credit scene (or in general, after the scene where they’re all sitting and Marinette goes for Luka). Main reason for me is, Miracle Queen is pretty inconclusive on the shipping aspect - it opens with Adrien being uncertain of his relationship with Kagami, and ends with Adrien still unsure, and Marinette finally accepting Luka.

On the Marinette side, that last part might seem pretty conclusive, but after she suffered a major loss (going with canon’s “Marinette lost Fu” here despite the many problems I have with the way Fu was written), I think the emotional void really couldn’t be properly filled with Luka, and had Chat Noir’s character not gone down the drain after the season finale, he’d be the only real option Marinette can consider even talking to - temp heroes outed, kwamis being glorified toys, barely anyone even knowing Fu and all that. In my ideal world, she would’ve at least moved on from Adrien (wherein canon of course has to insist on the OTP), and I feel Chat Noir fills the void very naturally.

On the Adrien side, I think him interrupting the kiss was a sign of him not knowing what he wants out of a relationship in general - he seemed to be moving on from Ladybug in Hearthunter, and the Ladynoir in Miracle Queen to me felt much closer to them being together against the world (which is… exactly what the episode says out loud), not falling in love. I don’t think Kagami would want a relationship with Adrien after that whole mess (and that did end up being the case), so the closest non Ladybug option would be Marinette. So not a random “I love Marinette because she’s so nice and she kissed me after I pranked her” (canon please 🙄), but more of a “Marinette has always been so nice to me, instead of bothering Ladybug even more I’ll at least try getting a little closer to Marinette” and things develop from there on out.

But Season 4 threw my hope and dreams onto a burning landfill so that was cool. Anyways, how would you structure it? This got a bit long haha

Don't apologize, that was an interesting and quite good argument for flipping the crushes at Miracle Queen. I hadn't really thought about it before, but that would have been a much more satisfying way to shake things up in season four instead of waiting until season five and then speed running the flip only to immediately undo Marinette's side of the flip all within six episodes. I think that your alternate season four could have worked, though it would require season four to really lean into the ending of season three instead of largely ignoring it.

Since you asked where I'd do it if I had to flip the crushes, I'll give you my thoughts, but first I want it put on the record that I hate the idea of both crushes flipping mid-show. One crush flipping feels reasonable, but both? At the same time? That's really hard for me to buy, especially since you'd have to do it pretty quickly given the way canon is structured. You can't drag things out for episodes at a time. Most things take, at most, two episodes.

I'm also not sure what the point of flipping the crushes is. It feels less like narrative progression and more like a stalling tactic since the love square will only get together if one crush flips. Both crushes? Same square, different angle (I jokingly call it the love diamond.)

And yet, canon actually managed to pull off a very solid reverse crush setup. If season five had started off with the crushes flipped, then I would have totally believed it. Marinette just had her crush on Adrien cost her all of the miraculous. That's a very good way to kill a crush just like finding out Chat Noir's identity is a very good way to banish her fears from that event, allowing her to have the confidence to stay with Adrien post-reveal.

Similarly, Adrien just spent a whole season being sad about Ladybug not giving him enough attention, leading up to an episode where Marinette saw that he was suffering and reached out (if only because of magic). I absolutely believe that he'd start falling for Marinette and be less upset with Ladybug post-reveal now that he knows that she has been supporting him all along. He was just looking for support on the wrong side of the mask.

Instead of taking advantage of that setup, canon delayed the flip a few episodes and made it wholly unbelievable. They really give us an episode where Ladynoir got married and had children, followed it up with the episode where the crushes flipped, and then tried to convince us that Marinette was the one who hadn't really fallen in love with Chat Noir. Marinette. The girl whose deepest desire is apparently marriage and children with Chat Noir. But her love isn't real? Really? Yet Adrien is really over Ladybug?

Bull. Shit.

Jubilation is not that setup you go with if Adrienette is your goal. It's the setup for Ladynoir.

Anyway, back to your question! As I detailed above, season five's intro episodes feel like the most obvious place to flip the square. I'd also be interested to see someone do it at Miracle Queen like you discussed, though it would be much less straight forward than season five, making it a better fit for a fanfic than canon in my opinion as I think you'd be hard pressed to do it well within the confines of canon's structure.

My other top choice is Origins because I am a love diamond purist. I think that it's the easiest way to fix a lot of canon's issues. For example: Marinette hanging magazine clippings of her friend/crush all over her walls for all to see with the full knowledge that she actually knows this guy? Kinda weird. Why are you writing it like she has a celebrity crush and not a "real person" crush?

Marinette hanging magazine clippings of her secret hero partner all over her walls? Totally understandable. It's not like she can act like it's a "real person" crush without giving herself away or looking unhinged. Plus how else is she supposed to get pictures of him? It's not like she can take some of her own. That would lead to a lot of awkward questions! She'd also have no reason to think that he'd ever see her shrine. 😈

[formulapookie]

🦂🌊

under the cut to read on Tumblr, on here to read on Ao3 <33

I get high on your voice bezzetti, 3.2k words

It’s not long ago they started messing around.

Sure, from Celin’s part there had been a teenage crush since the early days of their friendship, but he never would’ve bet on an actual something happening to them during their life.

He had fallen for Marco after a particularly bad day at the ranch, he had set the worst lap out of all the academy boys and couldn’t fucking stand it.

He knew he was good, or at least he thought that, but at that moment, looking at the results, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

And he was so afraid Vale would dump him, or worse, Bezz would.

He couldn’t picture a future for himself where Bezz wasn’t involved in the even slightest part.

But Marco had come to him first thing finished training to talk to him about it, claiming it wouldn’t matter once on track, those were the real results, it just happens sometimes and everyone has to come to terms with it.

Celin had stopped listening to look at the light in Bezz’s eyes, the joy he radiated and the care he had for him made the trick.

and after months of pining and rushing off to his room to touch himself as soon as he saw Marco undressing or doing something even remotely considerable sexual the two of them had shared a drunken confession where Celin had gone completely red, staring at his feet, and Marco had laughed and kissed him with a bit too much tongue.

They had ended up jerking each other off in a bathroom stall, and the day after Celin was sure Marco was going to act like they didn’t do anything but instead he was taken away by Bezz immediately after breakfast for the most intense and fulfilling make out session of his life, and from then on they’d been exclusively with one another.

They didn’t label it, not truly, but they both knew what they were.

And all those feelings and memories were coming at full speed in Celin’s brain right now, high as fuck and hungry for the ungodly amount of fries he was consuming in the front seat of Bezz’s Cupra.

“Stopf here gotta piss” Celin pointed to a lay-by alongside the road and made Bezz stop the car there, leaving crumbs of fries all over his seat for him to clean.

“Next time you smoke without me and you end up doing this shit to my car i’m killing you”

Celin flipped him off as he finished cleaning himself and zipped up his pants, going to sit again.

He met Bezz’s stare and something moved in his brain.

Fuck he looked good like that, he wanted him now. 

But he didn’t even have the time to speak that Bezz was already speeding off, cutting the way of a few cars who honked at him.

The sunset was hitting the highway right that moment, painting it all a pretty pink and orange, doing the same to Bezz’s curls and face, framed like what Celin would’ve described a painting.

His gaze didn’t come off Bezz’s face for a long time, running around his nose and lips, getting lost in his hair, until its attention was caught by his hands, one stalled on the steering wheel and the other on Bezz’s thigh, frozen.

Celin gently but resolutely grabbed Bezz’s right hand, moving it to his own thigh, looking at it with a smirk, just to turn his head to Bezz a second later.

His cheeks looked a bit red, even with the sunset lighting it was too red to be just that, and Celin began laughing under his breath.

He felt Bezz’s thumb beginning to trace little circles on his thigh, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly so.

He wanted more, wanted to feel his breath being sucked out of his lungs by Bezz’s kiss, and for his hand to get closer and have him cry in the car for a release.

But he wanted Bezz to be the one to move up his hand, not having it stroking and occasionally squeezing his thigh so far from the actual point where he needed him.

“Bezz” it’s slurred, coated by arousal and the feeling of being high with the love of his life beside him.

“Celin come on it’s still half an hour ride from here we’ll do it once we’re th-“

“I could ride you for half an hour and not get tired if you wished so”

And Bezz is suddenly unfocused on the street, he doesn’t care for the speed limit.

“Fuck Celin you can’t just say that”

“Mmh but why? You are all red but it’s the truth. You are really hot today, did you change perfume? I like this one it’s…stronger”

Bezz is hot in his seat, he can feel the arousal coming at him, he wants to turn his head towards Celin and kiss his stupid face to shut him up.

“Beeeezz come on stop the car, I promise I’m gonna make you feel good, you look tense you need a bit of a release no?”

Celin is being an asshole right now because he knows Bezz is weak for this type of thing, he’s weak for pretty much everything regarding Celin, especially if it’s praise or this type of flirting.

“One day I’m gonna kill you for real Celin” as he says it he’s already stopping in an emergency lay-by, hoping there’s no cameras and that no one comes to take a look at the two.

Celin is smiling proudly, eyes still a bit red and mouth dry, the only thing in his mind being Bezz.

Bezz’s hands around his dick, Bezz’s mouth hot on his neck, Bezz’s hair between his fingers as he rides him.

The boy doesn’t even bother to open the door and walk to the backseat, he just squeezes through the space between the front ones, gaining a scoff from Bezz as he does. 

He on the other hands walks out and then in again, barely having time to seat down that Celin is already all over him. Hands going for his shirt, pulling it up, hands in his hairs, lips grazing his jaw hungrily.

His fingers indulge on the piercing sitting proudly on his nipple, knowing the sweet sounds he produces once teased for the right amount of time. 

“Celin Celin calm down we’re not gonna die if we don’t fuck this second” “I will. Bezz I need it just- let me suck your cock please, I’ve got a surprise just…just close your eyes and let me suck you off”

And who is Bezz to say no to him when Celin’s staring up at him with his doe eyes and looking so hot the sun would shy away?

The boy smiles, and asks again for Bezz to close his eyes, which the other does gratefully.

He sinks down on his knees the best he can, moving the front seat as far as possible, unzipping Bezz’s horrible cargo pants and taking off his boxers too, which are unsurprisingly already wet with a patch of precum on the front.

Celin takes Bezz’s dick in his hand, and he’s met with a sight he got familiar with some time ago, when after one fucking month and a half of not having Bezz’s dick instide he finally got the chance to blow him with his new piercing.

He starts pumping it a few times before he licks it with just the tip of his tonge, bringing Bezz on edge of tugging at his hair and fucking his face to punish the teasing.

But he’s glad he doesn’t, because as soon as he takes him in whole, or at least what he can handle Bezz can feel something cold on his cock, dragging up and down and he’s about to faint because he knows what it is but he also didn’t know Celin had one.

But after all they’ve been separated for more than a month, Celin going off with his friends to whatever location for their holidays and Bezz settling for staying in Romagna. And from what he remembered it took up to four weeks for it to heal.

God. Four weeks without this feeling, how did he survive?

The confirmation came when Celin went to lick at his tip, tongue teasing his head cruelly, the goddamn tongue piercing adding to the already blissful sensation.

“God Celin when- when did you get it pierced fuck it feels good”

The younger smirks, lips stretched over Bezz’s dick, and he just rolls his tongue over the tip, where Bezz’s own piercing resided, making a cruelly heavenly sensation come alive inside Bezz.

Vibrations spreading all over his body, making him buck his hips and moving one of his hands to cling on Celin’s hair

Metal clinging against metal, the tease and the sensitivity doubling, triplicating as Celin’s movement didn’t seem to slow down, instead getting more and more messy, spit and precum making their way on the seats of the car.

“Celin I- I’m close and I still need to fuck you you have to come off” but Celin is keen on getting Marco to break down completely under him.

He feels his hair being pulled backwards, his eyes meeting Bezz’s

“Seriously Celin, I love you and you’re amazing but I still need to be inside you and I-”

“What, can't you get hard twice? I distinctly remember us going for more than three rounds last year after your first win, I couldn’t fucking walk the next day.

What’s gotten into you now? I don’t want you to be soft and caring Bezz I want you to fuck me until I cry, I need to feel you inside”

“It’s been a while Celin it’s gonna hurt” “Who cares, aren’t you the first one that loves pain? I can see it when you get tattooed, you always come out of that studio bricked up and once you moaned when the guy started working on your ribcage. I don’t care if I feel it hurting Bezz because then it’s so good”

Woah. Celin had never acted like this, he’d have to thank whoever rolled him that joint for years.

“Ok ok fuck finish sucking me off then you’ll ride me, you promised me no?”

Celin smirks again, sinking down on Bezz’s cock once more, bobbing his head up and down with a quick pace, almost as if it was some sort of compensation.

His dark curls are sticking to his forehead, sweat rolling down his temples.

He keeps sucking, hollowing his cheeks and teasing the tip so much it becomes red, and Bezz is doing a hard work trying not to fuck his face while Celin’s on his knees looking so pretty and dishelved.

He cums fast, strong, the four weeks of separation had taken their hold on both of them and Bezz is glad he gave into the teasing because he feels almost light headed now that he’s gotten his release.

Celin moves onto the seat and Bezz grabs him by the back of his neck, mouths messily pushed against each other, Bezz can taste himself and that damn piercing, he feels the little ball roll onto his tongue, cold and inviting.

“Celin wait I need- pass me the lube got to-” he’s interrupted by another kiss “already done it, before you came to pick me up, I knew I wouldn’t have had the patience to wait and do it later”

Bezz is speechless, but not disappointed in the slightest, god his mind was something else.

Celin climbs onto his lap, his hands pulling and tugging at Bezz’s hair, they cannot break the kiss, they’re glued to one another, breaths tied together and little moans escaping both their lips.

Bezz feels the boy rolling his hips on his thigh, feels the wet spot in front moving back and forth back and forth, and smiles at the opportunity.

He pulls away from the messy make out and starts kissing at Celin’s collarbone, biting on it slightly from time to time, he grabs the other’s shirt, lifting it up and tossing it somewhere in the car, the hungry gaze coming from Celin never leaving his movements. 

He keeps on moving his hips slightly, lips parted and shiny with spit, cheeks so red he looks feverish.

“You like that Celin? Want to ride my thigh until I’m hard again and can fuck you properly?” and the only answer Celin can get out of himself is yes.

Yes yes yes yes he wants that, being able to get Bezz hard by riding his fucking thigh, the one where he’s most sensitive, where Bezz is covered in tattoos.

Tattoos.

The same tattoos that get the older aroused when he gets them done, those indeleble marks on his skin he wishes to cover and replace with permanent hickeys of his.

“Good then go on, ride my thigh baby, I want to see you desperate for me”

It does the ultimate trick, it has Celin speeding up the movement on Bezz’s thigh, small whimpers escaping his mouth echoing in the car together with the sound of the fabric moving against naked skin and Celin’s ragged breath, forming an orchestra of desire.

It doesn’t get that long to get to the edge, he’s almost there when the grip on his hips strengthens, and he looks up at Bezz, eyes half lidded and coated with lust.

“I think it’s enough, no? take it all off for me” and Celin would want to protest, he’s so close he needs his release, but also he loves following whatever Bezz says and so he does, he climbs down his thigh and removes shorts and boxers in one go, his dick standing hard and wet against his abs.

“Pretty” and he’s dead, because when Bezz calls him pretty he ascends to heaven, the word charges him to be even better for the man.

He climbs back on his lap, lips sealed together in a confused kiss, one hand wrapped around both their cocks, while Bezz's hands travel all over his hips, squeezing every time he reaches his ass.

“Need to ride you Bezz it feels-you feel so good” and god every moment Bezz looks at him he’s prettier than before, his lips now red and puffy, his cheeks rose-colored and his hair ruffled.

“Do it Celin do it you’re so pretty when you do it, I think of you riding me every time we’re far away, I need to have you now”

And the boy doesn’t wait to hear it twice, he’s moving so fast Bezz is almost shocked, sinking down on his cock, wet with slick and precum from both of them.

Celin bites his lip, trying to maintain a bit of composure, while Bezz goes to kiss his chest languidly, dragging out his tongue over his pecs, tasting sweat.

He begins moving, slowly at first, hands on Bezz’ shoulders to balance himself.

Bezz moves his hands to Celin’s milky thighs, stroking them as he picks up the pace of his own movements.

Bezz throws his head back, a deep moan forming in his chest, the lust after being separate for so long having his effect on both men.

Celin goes to attack Bezz’s lips with his,one of his hands moving down to tease the piercing who’d been staring at him this whole time, the one above the rib cage tattoo that got Bezz moaning in the studio.

“Ride to live, live to ride” 

It's funny if he thinks about it, right now he feels like doing this was keeping him alive, like it was giving him a purpose.

He can feel Bezz playing with his own piercing, everytime their tongues meet he stays there a bit more teasing his piercing, almost tasting it.

All of their moans are muffled by their constant kissing and Celin is really glad for that because he gets to keep a bit of integrity and not crumble down like a bitch.

Bezz breaks the kiss, his mouth forming a path of small kisses all along Celin’s jaw, his neck, the juncture of his collarbone, where he presses a kiss deeper than the others, then sucks on it, trying to mark his territory.

“I know you’re close Celin, can feel you getting desperate for it, you deserve to cum first since you haven’t yet”  he says it smiling, like it’s fucking normal, and Celin moans, clenching against him even more, his movements getting erratic and chasing his orgasm.

“Marco Marco god you’re so good at it you fuck me so well I ah I remember it for days everytime”

the bastard. He fucking knows how to get back at Bezz, all it takes is for him to call the other “good” and he’s gone.

Bezz moans, leaving his grip on the boy’s thighs and getting one hand on Celin’s dick and the other on his nipple, tipping him over the edge, Celin coming all over his hand, feeling him clench against his dick as he comes and his own orgasm following in quick succession, everything too much and too good to resist.

Bezz pumps Celin’s cock a few times more, feeling him whine from the crook of his neck where he hid his face, jolting slightly at the tease.

“Fuck Bezz sorry I got it all over you I’ll grab a tissue” says Celin while raising his head from Bezz’s shoulder, but Bezz is already licking his hand clean, gaze not leaving Celin as the other looks in awe, as if it was the most beautiful sight on earth.

“You are a fcuking psycho god I could get hard again” and Bezz laughs, a honey sweet laugh he somehow manages to throw in even in this situation.

“Yeah no gotta wait to be at home for that, they’re gonna kill us if we get there too late”

Celin pouts, then starts laughing, until Bezz slides out of him, the emptiness reaching him with a whine.

“Come on Celin, get back on front we need to go like now”

“But Bezz what about…like what about the car it’s drenched”

“Mh well not my fault you come as hard as a girl now is it?” Celin is as red as the fucking Ducati now, and he makes a quick work of putting back on his boxers and pants, grabbing the shirt somewhere from the ground, as Bezz does the same.

By the time they get to Tavullia it’s well over 40 minutes late, and Vale is obviously fucking angry, they kept the windows rolled down to get rid of the scent of one another on their skin, but it’s still there, Celin can feel it.

Vale goes to comment something then shakes his head and makes the two come inside, Pecco and the others saying hi as Vale has them served a re heated dinner  (which is still very good)

They spend the night all together talking about racing and shit, laughing and drinking, Celin comfortably falling asleep on Marco, who strokes his hair absentmindedly, with a gentleness he didn’t reserve for him back in the car.

Only weird thing Pecco and all the others noticed was Bezz wearing a shirt with a small 13 printed on the front left and Celin coming there dressed in a huge 72 shirt with a scorpion as a background.

“Not very subtle” were the words Pecco had said to Migno as the pair had entered the house, still a bit blushy and with their hair all ruffled. 

[waytooinvested]

Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 20

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks had passed since the disastrous dream session, and it felt like everything had subtly shifted from where it had been before that night.

Kara still seemed entirely unphased by her experience – was thriving, if anything. Now she had successfully negotiated better contract terms at Catco and come to a compromise with Andrea about the sort of stories she would be writing she seemed happier at work, and had even managed to wangle a corporate discount membership at the climbing centre so she could go regularly. More troublingly she had also almost immediately thrown herself into some project that she was being unusually cagey about, but Kara had assured her it was nothing to worry about, and she was acting normally enough as long as the conversation stayed on other subjects. Lena was trying her best to trust her and not dwell on the mystery, no matter how tempting it might be to do a little digging.

Beyond that there were still the regular Project Atlantis meetings as always, but although none of them said it outright, they were all aware that progress had stalled. Now they knew exactly what it was keeping Kara from her Supergirl memories, they also knew that they couldn’t just break it down, and so far the best idea they had come up with to armour Kara against the trauma of it was… therapy.

It was a long way from being the silver bullet they needed.

However, after the latest uninspired and frustrating Atlantis meeting, something else had changed. Lena had offered Alex a lift home, as she often did since they lived in the same direction, and Alex had accepted. They had been sitting in the back seat watching the city go by outside the windows, same as always, and then Alex had come out with it.

‘So. I have this idea.’

‘For Project Atlantis?’

‘No, no, not that. It’s just something I hoped you might be up for trying with me...’

Alex shuffled a bit in her seat, and for a moment she looked so much like Kara when she had been about to suggest rock climbing that Lena narrowed her eyes, suspicious.

‘I swear to god Alex, if you’re about to ask me to go skydiving-’

Alex snorted.

‘HAH, no. I do kind of wish I’d thought of that just to see your face when I suggested it, but no. I was actually going to ask if, maybe, you wanted to come with me to a gay bar some time.’

Lena’s eyebrows shot up.

This was new.

She and Alex had spent time together outside Project Atlantis meetings, sure, but it had always been a continuation of them, or at least started out with some kind of pretext of a work thing before they had settled into just hanging out. This was the first time either of them had suggested something purely social, let alone a gay bar.

‘Really? How come? It’s not our usual sort of meet up place.’

‘Exactly. I’ve never actually been to one before, and I don’t know, you might you go all the time, but I thought maybe it would be similar for you, and we could try it out together.’

Alex was… not wrong. Lena had been to a few exclusive VIP only queer events over the years, but an ordinary gay bar in her home city? Never. There had always been the risk that she might be recognised and end up all over the tabloids of course, but it wasn’t just that. She’d never had anyone to go with. Not until now.

‘Wouldn’t you rather go with Kelly?’

‘I mean, yeah, I’d really like us to go together eventually, but�� well, when I got together with Maggie so much of the dynamic was her as the worldly wise one, and me as the newly hatched little baby lesbian who had never been with a woman or had any of these experiences. And even though Kelly never makes me feel that way, I kind of want this to be something I do for the first time just as myself, not as part of a couple. So I thought it could be a good friend thing. With you.’

A friend thing.

Alex wanted to discover her community with a friend, and she was asking Lena. Not Kara. Not Nia. Not any of the other friends she had uncomplicated histories with and who would gladly have tagged along with her.

She wanted Lena.

‘I would love to go to a gay bar with you Alex.’

Alex beamed, and the change in the set of her shoulders made Lena realise that she had been nervous about asking. This really mattered to her.

‘Awesome! So I have been looking into options and narrowed it down to three. There’s ‘Velvet’ which is the big one in the city centre that seems like a nice place, but it’s pretty high profile so I thought you might not be comfortable with the visibility – I don’t want you to end up as a story in some gossip magazine because of me.’

Lena nodded, appreciating the consideration. She was not afraid to be out, but she would rather control the narrative around any public announcement, and do it in her own time. Ideally when her life was less complicated than it was right now.

‘Then there’s ‘Liquor Lips’, which is the most private seeming, buuut also looks kind of skeevy. It’s not quite a strip joint, but they have some ‘exotic dance’ nights and a generally more X rated feel, and uh.. I’m not sure the whole thing is quite the vibe I’m looking for.’

‘Agreed, that is not the kind of night I was imagining.’

‘No, so this last one is my favourite – it’s called ‘Violet’s’. It’s a bit more open than Liquor Lips but also kind of far out of town, which I thought might be a good thing for you, and it has more of a community feel. It’s on the smaller side, but it looks friendly, and they have a pretty decent cocktail menu.’

Cocktails and community. Lena could work with that.

‘Violet’s it is.’

They had agreed a date and time, and that was that. They were officially the sort of friends who did things together outside of a work context. It felt a bit strange, but not bad strange. New, and unexpected, and… nice.

Violet’s turned out to be an unassuming building with a small sign hanging above the door and a rainbow sticker on one window. From the outside it didn’t look like much, and certainly wouldn’t raise many eyebrows if anyone saw Lena Luthor going in, at least not unless you knew what the place was.

Inside was a different story entirely.

Beyond the entryway it opened up into a surprisingly spacious room, decked out with purple fluorescents over the bar and string lights criss crossing the dark blue ceiling to give the impression of a starry night, though it was almost lost behind the yards and yards of rainbow bunting that had been strung overhead, and the flags of just about every queer identity one could hope to name hanging from the walls. The whole impression was utterly chaotic and much too busy to be considered entirely good taste, but Alex was right, it felt friendly.

Alex herself was hovering in the doorway, staring round from the flags, to the bunting, to the people gathered around tables. Drinking, laughing, playing darts, holding hands, kissing.

When several more seconds passed and she still didn’t move, Lena gave her a little elbow nudge.

‘You doing okay there Danvers?’

‘Huh?’

Lena raised an eyebrow at her.

‘Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m good, sorry. I just realised, I don’t think I’ve ever been in a room with this many other gay people before. It’s kind of blowing my mind.’

She knew what Alex meant. It was different for her of course – she had been in plenty of rooms with at least this many other queer people, but not like this. Those had all been highly curated events with carefully chosen guest lists of the rich and powerful, all of whom knew exactly who Lena was. It had meant that no matter how much she might enjoy herself, she always had to be aware of the impression she was giving, just in case any of it came back to bite her later.

But here there was none of that. This was just a bar that she happened to have walked into with a friend. They didn’t have to be The Lena Luthor and Director Alex Danvers here, and the one or two people who had glanced up when they came in had gone back to their own conversations, clearly seeing nothing noteworthy in their arrival. Right now Lena was just one more woman who loved women in a crowd of others just like her. It made her feel unremarkable. Mundane even.

She was going to like it here.

Once they had their drinks they settled at a table that was slightly out of the thick of things, but not so far back that they felt hidden away. For a little while they sipped in silence, just soaking it all in and allowing themselves to fully experience what it was like to be in the majority. Alex particularly still seemed very slightly in shock, though she was clearly trying not to stare too obviously at anyone in particular.

After a few minutes she let out a long breath and swore softly.

‘I didn’t realise. I fell in love with a woman and I came out to my family and I thought that was it, I never realised how much more there was. I’m not just a woman who happens to love other women. I am a lesbian, and that means I get to be part of something bigger than my own relationships. I feel like I missed out on so much by not working it out sooner.’

‘It’s not too late. Everyone starts the journey at their own pace, and you have plenty of time for yours. Maybe when things have settled back down and Kara... well, maybe one day we could all go to a pride parade together.’

‘Yeah… I’d like that. How come we never talked about this stuff before? It feels like kind of a waste.’

Lena shrugged.

‘We weren’t those sorts of friends. We were both more focused on Kara…’

They still were of course. Kara was their centre and the purpose for their coming together in the first place, but now Lena and Alex had formed a bond that was separate to their relationship with her. And maybe, whatever happened between Lena and Kara once Kara had her Supergirl memories back, even if they found they couldn’t work through the lies and hurt on both sides and decided not to stay friends, maybe this friendship with Alex would be something she would be able to keep this time.

‘I guess so. It’s weird though, I’ve known you for years and I don’t even know anything about what all this is like for you. I mean… have you dated women before? When did you figure out that you were bi?’

‘Boarding school. I was 15, and I realised I had the biggest crush on Andrea Rojas.’

‘Andrea- wait, that Andrea Rojas? Kara’s boss? Kara’s boss that she hates?’

‘The same. She’s more fun if she’s not your boss.’

Though it could be fun when Andrea got bossy too, in the right context.

‘Wow okay. So you two were a couple?’

Lena tilted her hand back and forth in a measuring gesture.

‘I wouldn’t say we were a couple, exactly. We were best friends, and there was definitely… tension. Then one night we snuck down to the common room in the middle of the night – no one else around, just us in the dark with a bottle of scotch Andrea had managed to smuggle in. We drank a bit of it, but just a few sips each, we hadn’t really acquired a taste for it yet, and then we talked – or more accurately, we flirted, though not in a very intentional way. Andrea was playing with the bottle, just for something to do with her hands at first, but watching it turning round and round, I think we both had the idea at the same time. She picked it up very deliberately and put it down between us, then kept eye contact while she set it spinning. We both stared at it so intensely, it was like our entire future depended on whether it stopped pointing at me or not.’

‘And did it?’

Lena laughed.

‘Not even close. But I kissed her anyway.’

‘Wow. That’s a bold move, I can’t imagine having that much confidence at 15.’

‘Well, you have to remember we were raised in families who expected to get what they wanted, and we had been dancing around it for months by that point. I think on some level we both knew it was just a matter of time. Anyway, that night kind of opened the floodgates, and we had a lot more secret make out sessions, and then eventually more than that… but it always felt more like a friends with benefits set up than an actual committed relationship. After a while she started dating someone else and so we stopped our trysts, and then I did too. We would still get together sometimes after we left school, if we were both in the same city and neither of us happened to be dating anyone else at the time, but it was always casual.’

‘And... do you still? Now she’s in National City?’

‘No. We had a… falling out. We’re back on reasonable terms now, but it’s not like it used to be. I couldn’t trust her the same way after that.’

There was a silence following this statement, filled with their shared knowledge of Lena’s more recent ‘falling out’ with someone she had romantic feelings for, and the unspoken implications about trust brought up by the parallels of the two situations.

But Kara and Andrea could hardly be more different, and Lena had never felt about Andrea the way she did for Kara…

Did that make their future prospects better, or worse?

She wasn’t sure, and she couldn’t stand the heaviness that now seemed to be pressing down on their evening of queer discovery, so she shook it off, and tried to get the conversation back on track.

‘How about you? What was your gay awakening like?’

‘ Oh, well, the big thing was meeting Maggie, obviously. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot since, and realising there were so many things that I missed at the time that make so much more sense now. Like how weird and complicated my feelings got about sleeping over with my best friend Vicky in high school. Or the girl in my freshman college dorm who was obsessed with Norwegian fantasy movies, and I was the only one who would watch them with her. I didn’t understand a word of what was going on, but she would always grab my hand and hold on tight whenever this one guy came on screen, and that was enough to make me keep going back. Then there was the barista I used to try to coincide my coffee shop visits with, even though she made terrible coffee. But she had blue hair and all these amazing tattoos, and she would give me this look and call me Beautiful like it was my name, and she used to slip me free muffins when her manager wasn’t looking.’

‘...And you didn’t read that as her flirting with you?’

‘Well no, not at the time. Why?’

‘No, nothing, I think I’m just seeing where Kara gets it from. It might not be quite an office full of flowers, but that girl did everything but write her number on your cup to tell you she was interested.’

‘Oh. Uh… she actually did write her number on my cup one time.’

‘WHAT?’

‘It wasn’t like that! It was just in case-’

Alex broke off, thinking back over the interaction, and shook her head.

‘Yeah, no, okay it was exactly like that. Self-denial is a hell of a drug.’

It probably wasn't nice to laugh at someone's process of coming to terms with their sexuality, but in this case Lena couldn't help it.

‘God, if we had had this conversation a year ago I would have known I needed to hire a sky writer to get through to Kara. Or just grabbed her by the lapels and stuck my tongue down her throat.’

Alex groaned and swatted her arm.

‘Lena!’

‘Oh you know what I mean. Anyway, it’s probably for the best. If you had picked up on Cute Blue Haired Barista’s flirting you might not be with Kelly now.’

The aggrieved look softened instantly into a dopey smile, like just the mention of Kelly's name was enough to make Alex happy. She looked the way Lena felt when she thought about Kara, and it made her simultaneously happy for her friend and intensely jealous of Alex’s uncomplicated romantic relationship.

‘Yeah, Kelly is pretty great. I guess it was worth waiting for my big realisation if it meant I got to end up where I am with her. I do wish I could talk more to her about what’s happening at the moment though. You know, with Project Atlantis… I mean, she knows in a general sense, but not how personal it is. I hate feeling like I’m keeping something from her.’

‘Kelly doesn’t know about Kara?’

‘No. Things between us were still pretty new when everything happened, and now… I can’t exactly ask Kara’s permission to loop her in, can I?’

‘No, but… for what it’s worth, I think you should tell her anyway. Kelly is your person, and you need to be able to share something this huge with your person. Your sister has essentially had a serious accident that’s left her with amnesia and missing half the context of your life together. That is a lot to deal with on your own on top of trying to keep everything from falling apart in Supergirl’s absence, and you need someone to talk to about it all. Kelly deserves to know what all this means to you, and I really think Kara will understand.’

Alex went quiet for a moment, prodding at a chunk of lime floating in her Caipiroska with a rainbow striped straw, and then asked ‘who do you talk to about it?’

‘What?’

‘Kara’s your person, right? And you can’t tell her how you’re feeling about any of this. I’ve never really thought about that before. I mean, she’s my person too obviously, but in a different way. And like you said, I have Kelly... But you don’t. And it must be hard for you.’

Lena looked away. Somehow she hadn’t been prepared for her comment to get turned around on her, but it was true. She had spent so much of her recent past keeping herself a step removed from everyone around her, safe and solitary, and yet now when she actually wanted to be brave and do the work to open up, she couldn’t let herself.

Honestly, it was shit.

But Lena was in a her first gay bar with an excessively pink drink in front of her and a Tegan and Sara song blasting in the background, and she had no intention of getting maudlin about her unrequitable love right now, so she fell back on an easier answer.

‘Oh, I have my own ways of relieving the stress.’

‘Such as?’

She shrugged.

‘I break things. Wine glasses, mostly. Plates. An electron microscope once, after the Q-wave trial failed. It’s cathartic.’

Alex stared at her, clearly not having been quite ready for this response. Then she snorted.

‘Has anyone ever told you that being a billionaire makes you kind of an insufferable brat? You seriously smashed a piece of equipment that costs at minimum tens of thousands of dollars because “it was cathartic”?’

‘Hey, I fixed it afterwards! I might be obnoxiously rich but I’m not stupid.’

‘You… you fixed it afterwards.’

‘What? I did! I actually added in some upgrades while I was at it, so it was a net positive really-’

Alex shook her head, looking half wondering, half exasperated.

‘Fucking hell Lena. You are by far my weirdest friend. And most of my friends are aliens. One of my friends is a blue guy from another century who is also part computer. But you still win. NONE of that is how normal people deal with their feelings.’

‘Maybe that’s just because normal people don’t have access to electron microscopes, or sufficient knowledge about their inner workings to rebuild them after they get smashed.’

‘Yeah, no that is definitely not it weirdo.’

For the most part Lena didn't appreciate being called out for being odd. It reminded her too much of a childhood spent trying so desperately to fit in with what was expected of her only to fall short again and again, the black sheep in every situation. But somehow, in this context, it didn't feel like a bad thing. She pulled the straw from her drink to point it at Alex, accidentally-on-purpose flicking a drip of pink grapefruit and gin mix in her direction as she did so.

‘Psh, jealous. Keep talking like that and I won’t invite you to come and smash things with me next time we need to vent.’

Alex let the drink splashing go without comment, straightening up from her semi-slouched pose with a suddenly hopeful look.

‘Wait no, invite me! I want to smash things!’

‘Huh, what happened to “that’s not normal”?’

‘Well, not highly delicate and expensive scientific equipment things, but I could absolutely be down for bashing the hell out of a junk yard car or something. I was always kind of jealous that Kara could work out her feelings by pounding an old car into a crushed blob with her bare fists, but I bet it would still be pretty satisfying with a sledge hammer.’

‘You wait until you try a laser.’

Alex’s eyes went wide.

‘You have lasers? Can I play with them??’

‘Sure. As long as you listen to my safety instructions before you touch anything – I don’t want you burning a hole all the way through the side of my building.’

‘Awesome. I take back everything I said, your way of dealing with emotion is totally normal and healthy and not at all bratty-rich-kid.’

‘I should think so.’

Alex hesitated, then added in a more serious tone ‘however, if you ever decide you want to try a different kind of catharsis… you can always talk to me, you know.’

‘Thanks Alex. You can talk to me too.’

‘Oh I was planning on it. But uh… Just do me a favour and don’t tell me any more about how you want to kiss my sister, okay?’

Well, saying that was basically handing Lena the advantage on a silver platter. An evil grin twitched at the corners of her mouth, and she leaned confidingly closer across the table.

‘Oh, I don’t just want to kiss your sister. I am an adult woman with adult needs, and I want to-’

‘Aaargh oh my god shutupshutupshutup you absolute GREMLIN!’

Lena licked her lips, schooling her expression into something downright lascivious as she doubled down on her baiting.

‘Have you seen her biceps? And her abs are just- mmmm.’

‘Lena Luthor I am so serious right now, if you don’t stop that this second I will tip this drink over your head and ass-plant you right off your stool. That is so gross.’

It was tempting to keep torturing her, but Lena was laughing too hard by this point to think of anything else to say. Besides, it honestly felt pretty weird for her to talk about Kara like that to anyone, let alone her own sister.

Worth it though, given how much it had made Alex squirm.

‘Okay, okay, I’m done. Consider that payback for all the cotton candy jibes.’

‘Urgh. Paid back in full and then some. And you owe me about five more drinks to help block out the memories of what you just said.’

Alex knocked the rest of her drink back, and whether her shudder was for the sudden rush of alcohol or the mental images Lena had managed to evoke was anyone’s guess.

‘Aw, poor little delicate flower. Alright, my round. They actually do a shot here called ‘Supergirl’, shall I get you one of those?’

‘ABSOLUTELY NOT.’

There were several other temptingly named shots that would have served to send Alex into further paroxysms of horror (a Slippery Nipple, a Screaming Orgasm, a Quick Fuck, and of course the classic Sex on the Beach would all have done it after the conversation they had just had), but in the end she had mercy and bought her a perfectly respectable New York Sour shot and another passion fruit Caipiroska; and when she returned to the table she allowed the conversation to move on to less contentious subjects.

She had that one in her back pocket now though, just in case she needed future retaliation material. It would not be difficult to wax lyrical about Kara’s strong shoulders and tantalising shy lip-bite if she needed to.

[sotwk]

Breathe (Boromir x unnamed OC)

Summary: You have harbored a deep, secret crush on Boromir for years, and have now been asked by him to dance.

Word count: 1.5k

Content: Romance, pining, yearning, longing (you get the point) Regency-inspired dance, fluff, started as a drabble but got way out of hand

Warnings: None

To Read on AO3: Link

A/N: This was supposed to be a Dance of Romance + Scars from @fellowshipofthefics’s January Trope Roulette, but the “Scars” part just never came out. Whoopsie. I guess I can’t claim credit for fulfilling the challenge, but FotF can claim credit for providing the prompt!

Update: This one-shot has been formally upgraded to the prologue of a multi-chapter Boromir x OC fic. More to follow soon!

Dedication: For @scyllas-revenge, a fellow Boromir stan whose talent I admire. My first ever Boromir fic is just a small thank you for being a cheerleader to me and other writers.

Divider credit: @firefly-graphicsphics

Breathe

Third Age 3008

Minas Tirith, Gondor

“I cannot breathe,” you whimpered to Anarlas, grasping at the sleeve of his tunic as he guided you from the edges of the crowd towards the center of the Great Hall. 

But your brother knew you too well and merely chuckled at your dramatics. “That is a bit problematic, given that a good air supply is necessary for dancing." He felt you pull back in resistance and stopped to examine you closely. "Do you really not wish to do this?" he asked softly. "Should I not have accepted the invitation on your behalf?" 

You stared up at him, wide-eyed as you struggled to process the last two minutes. One moment you were puttering back and forth aimlessly behind the pillars, content at the fringes of all the merrymaking, with just a cup of wine and your daydreams for company. All of a sudden Anarlas appeared and asked you to come with him, which you did in full trust…until he started to lead you into the noise and commotion instead of saving you from it, dashing your hope that he had decided to go home early, as you had implored for from the start. 

"There must be some mistake," you stammered. "Perhaps you heard him incorrectly." 

"The Captain was clear about his request. He could not have spoken more plainly: ‘Might I ask your sister for a dance?’.” Anarlas squeezed your arm and grinned. “And since he knows well that I have only one sister, there can be no mistake.”

You bit your lip before you could blurt out a ridiculous argument, that you still believed it possible Lord Boromir had you confused with some other woman. What other explanation could there be for him asking for you? On the evening of a kingdom-wide celebration, when every fair lady in Gondor was clamoring to gain even just a few moments of his attention? Who were you? Just a produce vendor with your own little stall in the lower markets of the White City. 

Your family, at least, was worthier of note. Your brother served directly under the Captain of the White Tower, and your father had been an even closer friend to him. He had trained the Steward’s young son in swordsmanship before falling in battle almost twenty years ago. You had been a mere infant then, still nursing at your mother’s breast. Then a few short years later on a particularly harsh winter, your mother succumbed to consumption, leaving you with Anarlas. 

Perhaps that was the logical explanation. Lord Boromir was granting you, a poor Gondorian orphan, this kindness in honor of your gallant father. Why he chose this particular occasion to do so, that was the greater mystery. 

Anarlas chucked you under the chin to call back your wandering mind. “You look beautiful,” he said gently. “If you ever wonder what Mother looked like, just find yourself a mirror.”

Hope bloomed inside your heart at his words, hewing through the shadows of anxiety and doubt. You wore her dress that evening, the finest article of clothing in your wardrobe, and had been delighted to discover you had finally grown up enough to match her womanly form and fill out the bodice properly. 

“If you refuse to believe in yourself, then believe in me,” your brother added firmly. 

Confusion knotted your brow, but before you could ask his meaning, someone cleared their throat behind you. 

“Forgive my interruption…”

You froze at the arrival of this voice, one you knew intimately despite having had barely any conversations with it. It was the light in the sweetest of your dreams, a sound you committed to memory, plucked from many years of brief and often stolen encounters. Public speeches, overheard conversations, and precious greetings from the incidental crossings of your paths. 

“My lord Boromir." You dipped into a curtsy, tightly clutching the skirts of your mother’s dress as you willed yourself to channel her reputed grace and poise. 

“My lady…” He bowed to you and spoke your name, ending all doubt of his familiarity. As it rolled off his tongue, the joy that thrilled inside you bolstered your meager courage.

Your mind had already sailed to the clouds and did not register whatever he else might have said or asked. But when he stretched out his hand for yours, instinct and years of pining took the place of thought and good sense, and you slipped your fingers over his, giving your consent. 

The crowd parted to give respectful berth to the Son of the Steward as he led his chosen partner to the dance floor. Boromir released your hand to take his place on the side of the men, leaving you to stand with the rest of the women. Open stares of scorn and envy fell upon you, beating at you with silent hostility as you waited for the music to begin. 

You wrenched your tearing eyes off the ground, and in trying to force your chin up high, you caught sight of Anarlas standing down the line of men. The love and pride that shone on your brother’s face revitalized your shaky confidence. Believe in yourself, you could imagine him saying. He tilted his head in a pointed signal.

Your gaze shifted to the right and fell straight upon Boromir, and found him staring right back at you, lips slightly parted. The second your eyes locked, he startled, caught off guard. His stare collapsed to his feet in discomfort and, to your amazement, he appeared to blush.  

Your breath hitched and you pursed your lips to stifle a giggle that escaped your throat.

The music started. A slower tune, one familiar enough for you to coax the steps from your body’s memory. You loved to dance and did so as often as you could, but your shy nature limited your audience and partners to only Anarlas and yourself. 

As the two lines stepped forward to begin the dance, Boromir raised his eyes to you again, defiant of his own embarrassment. As you glided by him in the first pass, you offered him your soft smile. His features immediately relaxed, and his lips curled back upwards, making you shiver.

You twirled and turned back towards him, reaching out with both hands. As his thick, calloused fingers encased yours, you thought you heard him draw a tight breath. Your own heart thundered madly in your chest as his light grasp slipped away once more.

As the spinning and swaying carried on, every reunion of your hands dizzied you with tingling, while each departure from his touch struck in pangs of yearning. The bittersweet longing you had borne for him from afar and for so long now surged sinfully into profound craving. For his touch, for his gaze, for the very warmth of his body next to yours.

His eyes never strayed from you, even as the routine separated you over and over. They were storm-grey, you realized, confirming what you had always fantasized but never truly saw. After every turn they quickly sought out your face again, as though ravenous for the sight.  

When your hands joined for several prolonged beats of the song, you heard him murmur your name. In mindless insolence, you returned the favor and addressed him in kind. 

“Boromir…”

His fingers suddenly closed around your hand, trapping and enveloping it and preventing you from slipping away again. With a soft tug, he urged you close and cupped his other palm on your hip, stalling you both in the middle of the floor. 

“I…” You braced your hands against his chest, summoning the last dregs of strength in your legs to support yourself, when everything else within you begged to melt in his arms. 

His hold around you tightened in painstaking slowness, as he ascertained your approval, watching for signs of objection that you never showed. The only distance that now separated you was his towering height, which he breached by leaning down, closer, closer, until you were drowning in his nearness, and felt the sweep of his sigh on your brow, the graze of his nose on your temple. Long dark lashes fluttered over those keen grey eyes that now seemed dazed with the wonder of you, of this moment.

Valar, he was more beautiful than anything your imagination ever conjured over the years.

“I cannot breathe,” you finally whispered. 

A chuckle rumbled from his chest and his hands rose to cradle your face. "I know exactly how you feel.”  

His thumbs savored the soft skin of your cheekbones, his fingertips explored the delicate shells of your ear. His ministrations were almost enough to eliminate all awareness of your surroundings. While the music carried on, several other couples had finally stopped to gawp at the Captain of Gondor's scandalous display. But for once in your life, the unspeakable, glorious joy that overflowed in your heart simply left no room for concern of anything or anyone else in the world.

“Perhaps we should continue this outside," Boromir suggested, his voice heavy with a promise that ran goosebumps through you. "Where we can have all the air we shall need.”

Tags: @aduialel @fizzyxcustard (Sorry if I missed anyone; I have no formal tag list but will likely put up a tag request form soon!)

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[artiststarme]

The Long-Lost Wheeler

This fic is based on this post from @kcsplace! I'm sorry it was such a long wait but thanks for letting me use your idea! There was no way I could compress all of my ideas into a one-shot so this will be a series. I hope you like it!

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Eddie had never known who his mom was. He didn’t know her name or what she looked like. All he knew was that she left him with his dad when he was barely two months old and never turned around to look back. He would dream of meeting her as a child. His childish mind would dream up faceless women hugging him, making him lunch, playing games with him, and anything else moms were supposed to do with their sons. He would imagine being part of a happy family when he saw the other kids at school getting picked up by their moms and dads. 

After so many disappointments though and so many years gone by, he gave up hope on ever meeting her. She didn’t want anything to do with her own kid? He didn’t want anything to do with her. The nameless, faceless woman that gave birth to him was nothing but a surrogate in his mind. Just a stranger that brought him into this hard world to abandon him when the going got rough. From then on, he viewed her with little more than mild disinterest. 

Whenever he had asked his dad about her, he never had anything good to say. Old Richie Munson said she was a manipulative bitch that was always too good for everyone around her, always looking to find something better. His old man would get upset whenever Eddie brought her up and on one fateful occasion, shaved his entire head because ‘he looked too much like her’. After that, Eddie never asked his dad about her again. 

A few months after he moved in with Uncle Wayne, he felt safe enough to ask him if he knew who his mother was. Wayne was a lot more tactful and nice with his description of her. He told Eddie that she was just a scared lady, unsure of what she wanted and too skittish to take care of little Eddie with his dad. He made her sound like leaving Eddie was a byproduct of escaping his dad and Eddie lost some of his anger towards her after that. He’d been trying to get away from his dad for eleven years, he couldn’t fault her for fleeing when she had the chance. 

He thought about her even less after the Upside Down once he had a group of friends close enough to call family. They filled the void that his dysfunctional and fractured family had left behind. He also found an unexpected best friend in Nancy Wheeler. They had a lot more in common than he thought they would and they got on like a house on fire. Things were finally going well for Eddie which was ironic since it was a near death experience and week in hell that led to it. 

Hellfire was back in action after being banned from the school due to its “Satanic connotations” and was now being hosted in the Wheeler’s basement. Eddie didn’t have his throne anymore or his chalice of Mountain Dew and it smelled a bit like a sweaty armpit. However, he was surrounded by his friends and the happiness he felt more than made up for the downsides. 

They were on their fourth day of the campaign when everything blew up. The entirety of Hellfire club was situated around the Wheeler’s kitchen on the singular snack break that Eddie allowed over the course of the day. All of the boys were talking amongst each other while Eddie relaxed against the counter happily watching his friends being happy and munching on baby carrots. Everything was fine until Karen Wheeler walked in carrying several grocery bags that Eddie immediately went to help her with. 

“Here, I can help you with that,” he said, leaning down to her height to take some of the heavier bags out of her arms. 

“Oh, thank you. Mike never helps with the groceries, you would think one would want to help their mother-” Karen abruptly stopped talking once she made eye contact with Eddie. He stalled a bit in response before setting the bags down on the counter next to where he was previously situated. 

She nodded at him jerkily before moving over to Mike and dragging him by the ear just out of sight, not out of hearing though. Eddie could hear what she said loud and clear. 

“Michael, what is he doing here? You didn’t tell me that you were going to have that… that boy over to my house!” She sounded pissed and Eddie narrowed his eyes as he listened. 

“Who, Eddie? He’s my friend, I told you he was coming over. You said it was okay for me to have my friends over to play Dungeons and Dragons today!”

“I want him out of my house, Michael. Don’t invite him over again, he’s not welcome here.”

“What the hell, mom? Why? He didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Now, Michael!”

Eddie didn’t know what the fuck was going on but he knew when he wasn’t wanted. Prior to the Spring Break from Hell, he would have rebelled and relished in the unease his presence caused. However, with the majority of the town still gunning for his arrest even after he was proven innocent, he knew not to make waves. 

When Mike turned the corner into the kitchen, still glowering and angry, Eddie clapped his hands to gather the rest of Hellfire’s attention. “Alright my fellow gremlins, let’s call it a day. We’ll resume our merciless quest next Friday. Expect a call with the updated Hellfire destination sometime next week. Godspeed.” 

Understandably this caused an uproar with the Hellfire members protesting and even Mike tried to convince Eddie to stay. “No, no, no, we’re all done for the day. We don’t want to overstay our welcome. We’ll wrap up the campaign next week. End of discussion!”

He gave everyone one last look and made this way back downstairs to pack up his things. He didn’t really blame her, he thought as he grabbed his things hastily. He wouldn’t want an alleged murderer in his house either. When he made his way past Karen on his way out of the house, he paused in front of her. 

“Thanks for letting us play here a few times. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, Mrs. Wheeler. I didn’t mean to. We’ll meet somewhere else next time,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

And with that he walked out of the Wheeler’s house with the dulcet sounds of Mike screaming at his mother following behind him. 

When he brought it up to Nancy just a few days later, she was perplexed. She had no idea on why her mother would be so vocally against having Eddie in the house. Karen Wheeler was known to be the perfect doting mother. To have her kick Eddie out of her home and to hate him so blatantly was almost unfathomable. She told Eddie that she would get to the bottom of it and she did. She didn’t expect to discover that Eddie was her long-lost brother that her mother abandoned. Now how was she supposed to tell Eddie?

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