#and then she tries to return a pair of scrub pants after washing them claiming that the drawstring fell out on its own after one wash

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

The Fight - Little Sparrow Series Oneshot

A/N: I took a much looser approach with the prompt for Writer Wednesday. :) Thank you for reading, reblogging, and commenting. 

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x F! Reader x Ellaria Sand 

Warnings: 18 + for language, canon typical violence, mentions of depression, wanting to die, angst with a resolution. 

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

“You are an absolute FOOL!” Ellaria shouts from the entrance to the training yards. Men and women scattered in all directions at the fire in her eyes. Ellaria is a fearsome woman to behold on an average day but when she is angry, beware.

Oberyn scoffs and stabs his spear into the ground, leaning on it gently. “What have I done now?” Ellaria stomps the rest of the way towards him and grabs onto his jaw harshly. 

“What have you done now?! Think, you always claim to be the smartest man in the room, the most cunning, the red viper,” her words dripping with sarcasm. 

“I truly do not know,” he pushes her hand away, but the viper is not quick enough, and her hand smacks across his face. The spear clatters the ground, and Oberyn reaches for his cheek, holding it and staring at her with wide eyes. 

“How dare you?” she growls, “I should have hit you harder! Maybe then you would remember what you have done to our Sparrow.” 

Oberyn furrows his brow for a moment before realization slowly dawns on his face. Memories of a conversation with you from the night before. His belly was still full of wine, his head a bit hazy as he spared with a newer soldier. 

**********

“Oberyn, please,” you begged, standing outside the ring used for fighters. His moves were sloppy; he was going to get himself hurt. “Please, my love, come to bed.” 

“Go!” he barks at you, narrowly missing a blow to the head from the other wooden sword of his opponent. “Is that all you got?!” he shouts, edging the other man on. His expression hardens, and his sword moves quicker, slashing left and right against Oberyn. 

You know what day it is—the reason for his drinking to excess, calling upon everyone for a fight. The children and Ellaria had been sent away for the evening, and you wished for her soft touch around your shoulders. Oberyn had begged you to stay, claiming only to need your body to suppress the grief he wishes to drown in. “Oberyn,” you call again, quieter, the tears beginning to swell in your eyes. 

He turns towards you, and that’s all the distraction his opponent needed. The other man strikes him in the chest, knocking him off balance, the spear toppling from his hand. He barrels, rolls around your prince, and picks up the spear pointing the sharp blade against his neck. “Yield,” he growls, eyes hard, and Oberyn just watches his chest panting, the steel prick of his spear against his throat. 

The red viper does not lose. 

“Yield,” he repeats, pressing the blade tighter to the prince’s throat, drawing a drop of blood, staining the golden robes. 

Oberyn lifts his head, and more blood trickles down his neck, “never,” he growls, voice dripping with venom. “Kill me,” he orders, “strike me down, live in infamy as the man who killed the Red Viper.” 

“NO!” you step forward, reaching a hand out to wrap around the spear with one hand and pushing your lover down with the other. “That is quite enough for one night.” His opponent drops the spear to the ground and stands above you, bowing his head. 

“My apologies, my Lady, my Prince,” he bows to you both before turning to leave the training yard. All others have left for the night, and it’s as silent as the grave as you turn back to Oberyn. 

You can feel his eyes burning on yours, and you avoid them, instead choosing to focus on the golden robe. “You’re covered in blood, my Prince,” you go to unbutton the cinch at the top, but his hand tightens around your own. 

“Don’t touch me,” his voice is stern, and he throws your hand aside, standing up. You remain kneeling before him, head down; he’s never used that tone with you. The anger and malice slicing through your heart like a dagger. “How dare you.” 

Your head snaps up, and you feel the strength returning as you stand, hands trembling with your anger. “How could I? Do you expect me to just stand on the sidelines and watch you die?! Hurt yourself?!” 

“I had it under control,” he takes a threatening step towards you, his finger coming up to your face, “you disgraced me.” 

You take a shuddering breath, “I disgraced you because I love you? Explain that to me, Oberyn. I love you with my entire heart, my soul.” 

He scoffs and takes a shaky step away, his fingers fumbled with the buttons of his robe, throwing it towards you. It bounces off your chest, and you catch it in your hands, the blood staining your fingers. “You’re not my wife,” he tosses over his shoulder as he reaches for the goblet of wine, filling up his cup, “why don’t you find some other cock to fuck you tonight.” 

You ball the fabric up in your hand and feel your heart shatter in two, “I don’t take other lovers beside you and Ellaria; you know that.” 

He laughs, “well, it is not my cock that will fill your cunt tonight. I’ll go to the brothel and find another woman who won’t disgrace me in battle and will keep her mouth filled with my cock instead of nagging me about what I do.” 

You watch him walk away out towards the front of the Palace, each step putting another nail in the coffin of your heart. Oberyn did not visit the brothels since you joined his little harem, Ellaria, and you being more than enough for him. Ellaria had warned this could happen tonight, on this day when the memory of his sister, Elia, and her children’s deaths are reawoken like gaping wounds.

“Daemon,” you call into the shadows knowing the Prince’s guard is never far, “follow him, please,” you whisper, and he nods. His footsteps retreating after Oberyn. 

You walk through the quiet halls of the Water Gardens and towards the washing room near the river. And there you stay until the morning light streams through. Your hands scrubbed raw with the force you used to remove the blood from the Golden robes. The fabric still scrunched between your fingers as you lay your head in a basket of blankets ready to be washed. 

“My lady,” one of the servants presses her hand gently on your arm, and you blink, sitting up suddenly, “are you alright?” 

“Where’s Oberyn?” you ask, almost frightened to know. 

“The Prince returned only a few hours ago; the Maester gave him something to make him sleep. He should be up in a few hours right as rain.” The young woman smiles at you, and you cringe at the kink in your neck. “My Lady, please beg pardon, but you don’t look so well, should we call the Maester?” 

“No,” you reply quickly, “no, please don’t. I just need to rest.” You move towards the door, planning to lock yourself in your private room for the rest of the day.

“What about the Prince’s robe?” she probes gently, and you stiffen, glancing down at the fabric still clutched between your hands. “Would you like us to wash them?” You nod, feeling hollow, memories of the night before flashing before your eyes. She gasps when you hand the robe over and looks at your hands, clutching them. “My Lady, your hands….” 

You grab them back and clutch them to your chest, “please,” you close your eyes, feeling the tears ready to flow, “please just forget about them.” When you open, she looks sad but nods. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” she whispers back, and you give her a slight nod, going off to your room to rest. 

The rest of the day passes uneventful, many come with offers of food and a bath, but you ignore their calls. With the last of your strength, you’d pushed the dresser against the door so no one could enter. “Sparrow?” Ellaria’s voice chimes from the other side and you tremble at the concern in her voice, “they said you had not eaten all day; what is the matter?” She tries to turn the handle, but the door is locked, and you hear her shouting orders at someone, probably to unlock it. 

She twists the nob, and it turns, but the door doesn’t budge. “Sparrow! Come to the door, are you alright?!” she sounds frantic, and you want to get up, but your energy is gone. The Prince’s words playing over and over in your head doubts swimming over everything you’ve built with him. 

The curtains towards the balcony sway in the breeze, and you hear footsteps coming from the window. “She’s bared the door, Mother!” Nym shouts, pushing the dresser out of the way and coming back to sit beside you, putting her hand on your cheek, “mama? Are you alright?” 

“Nym, leave us,” Ellaria commands, and Nym nods, leaning down to kiss your forehead before standing and leaving quickly, pulling the door shut behind her. Ellaria lays down on the bed beside you and puts her hand to your cheek, kissing you softly. “What’s the matter, Little Sparrow?” You break down and cry, her pushing you tight to her breast and running her hand over your head as you tell her everything. 

“He told me I’m not his wife. That, it’s not his cock that will fill my cunt. He’ll go to the brothel and find another woman who won’t disgrace him in battle and will keep her mouth filled with his cock instead of nagging him about what he does.” 

Her hand stills, and her voice is tight, “he said that to you?” You nod, letting out a hiccup from your sobs. “Has he come and spoke to you today?” You shake your head no, and her voice drops lower, almost deadlier, “I’ll be back.” She disentangles herself from your arms, and you watch her straighten her spine, her hands clenched into fists at her side. 

**********

Oberyn clutches his head and looks ashamed at the ground. “Ah, now he remembers,” Ellaria taunts, “you are lucky she is even still here! I would have let you rot before I let you talk to me that way. Now, go and make this right before you make the biggest mistake of your life.” 

“I wouldn’t blame her if she never forgave me.” 

“Oh no, you do not get to feel sorry for yourself.” Ellaria waggles a finger at him as he lifts his eyes to meet the fire in her gaze. “Do you love her?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you want her to stay? To warm your bed? Give you children, and take care of you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then go talk to her,” Ellaria crosses her arms over her chest and glares down at him, “or you will lose two paramours today.” 

He stands and moves past her to your chambers, where he idles outside the door. Shame filling him at the words he hurled at you, like verbal daggers. He knocks on the door, unsurprised not to hear an answer. He twists the knob and walks inside. “Little Sparrow,” he calls out to you, hating how your body tenses up turned away from him on the bed. He closes the door behind him and comes to sit behind you on the bed, reaching a hand out to your waist. 

You push his hand away, and he gasps at the rough touch of your palm. He is quickly reaching across you to pull your hands into his own. “What happened? Who did this to you?” He would kill them. 

“You did,” you whisper broken, “I tried to get the blood out of your robe you threw at me,” you raise your eyes to meet his. The warmth is missing from his brown eyes as he stares down hard at your hands. 

“You washed my robe?” 

“What else was I supposed to do? Find another cock to fill my cunt,” the words taste bitter on your tongue, and you rip your hands from his own, clutching them to your chest. “How was the brothel?” 

“I don’t know. I woke up fully clothed there this morning, Daemon guarding the door. He said I demanded whores to be brought to me, but I sent them all away.” 

“Why?” 

“Because no one is you, my love.” He reaches his hand out, and you fall to your back as he hovers over you. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, “I begged you to stay, and then I...I didn’t mean any of it. I was angry and sad.” 

“You wanted to die, Oberyn.” Your words hanging in the air between you. 

“I always wish I had died instead of her,” he whispers, “Every day I see Elia in my head, her voice begging me to move forward. This is the first time in two years I felt that way. It used to be every day.” 

“What changed two years ago?” 

“I met you.” Your heart pounds, and he moves closer, laying some of his weight down on you, “I met a Little Sparrow that took my heart and made it soar to the heavens where she flew. You,” his voice cracks with emotion, “are the love of my life. My reason for living. I’m sorry I lost my way.” 

You cup his cheek and brush the stray tears, “have you found your way home to me?” 

“I always know which way to fly home, Little Sparrow; you light the way.” 

“I love you, Oberyn Martell. I forgive you, but please don’t leave me alone in this world.” 

“Never, my love, never.” 

[chloe-clegane]

My Devotion and Mah Protection, Our Love - Chapter 1

Summary: Rayla and Callum have been together for three years and are ready to transition into adult life and marriage. The fight against Aaravos isn't over but they refuse to let prejudice or fear keep them from living their life together. Having the first Human and Elf marriage, in over 1,000 years was never going to be easy.

AO3

Taking Care of You is Part of Loving You

Callum returned to their (his) room late and took his boots off. Having separate rooms in places like this was a silly facade. It would be unseemly for a Prince of Katolis to be sharing a bed with anyone prior to marriage. So they played along lackadaisically and everyone knew to look the other way. No one was going to stop them after everything they’d been through, plus one offender was a trained assassin with disappearing powers. The sun was going down, Callum was starving and surprised Rayla wasn't waiting for him.

He kicked off his boots and walked to the mirror. He was unsurprised by what he saw, his fair skin was brown with dirt and mud. “Yup, this is what success looks like doesn’t it?” he spoke to the empty room, frustrated. “It’ll be fine they said, trust that the branch will catch you they said ugh!” He accentuated each mocking quote by pulling twigs out of his hair “15th times the charm, don’t give up. Why do I need trees to catch me anyways? Don’t have to worry about falling when I can fly!”

“Oh no, that bad?”

“Rayla!” He nearly dropped the water jug he’s been using to fill the washbowl, you would think after all this time she would have a harder time sneaking up on him, but no. He sighed “I mean it went kind of… sort of… yeah it went bad”

“Well I found somethin today and I think you should come see it, It’s a surprise” She smiled and moseyed up behind him.

“Rayla, do I look like I’m ready to go out anywhere? I’m dirty and hungry and… kind of grumpy” While he spoke she reached behind him, dipped one of the wash clothes and wiped a spot clean on his cheek and proceeded to kiss it.

He pouted “can we do it tomorrow? I need a bath”

“Well ye’re in luck, you won’t need a bath where we’re goin” she walked away and grabbed a clean pair of shoes from his trunk.

“But where is it?”

“I told ye it’s a surprise”

“Bu-” her finger was on his lips as she handed him the shoes

“No buts put these on”

“Hungry” he whined

“Good news”, she danced away when he tried to grab her waist. She picked up a large basket he hadn't noticed by the door. “Food! In the basket!”

“My clothes?”

“In the basket!” she said it in an identical tone.

“Can I grab my sketchbook?”

“In the basket!” She gave an exaggerated point. He laughed and let her drag him willingly

“I love you… but why am I’m going to change my clothes out in the woods?”

“Hush! We’re almost there” She squeezed his hand and continued to lead the way

“Rayla I spent all day in the woooods, can’t I at least have a hint? Or- ”

She stopped walking and he bumped into her. “Callum, this is the surprise!” she pushed away a branch and what Callum saw made his jaw drop. It was a hot spring, steam was rising from the warm water. It was surrounded by glowing purple and orange flowers, he’s seen them before but never this many lighting up a whole area. Here in the moonlight, it was beautiful. Even the rocks had veins of quartz that seemed to exude magical energy.

“Wow, Rayla, ok this was worth the dark walk in the woods.”

“See I told ya to trust me” She gave his hand one more squeeze and started unpacking the basket. The picnic spread looked delicious. “Here’s yer clothin and yer sketchbook as promised” He knelt down next to her and took them

“Yeah I should never have doubted you” she mmhmmed in agreement, gratified. “Thank you” Callum felt the kindling in his chest catch fire. All he could do was smile and stare at her beautiful face.

“I found this hot spring earlier this mornin when I was doin some training. I ran miles today. Also I did the stretching and the lifts for mah arm“ Rayla spoke casually as she opened the waxed linen packages revealing the tasty contents. “Yesterday you were so worn out, I thought this would be a perfect place to bring you. Mind you I didn't know you’d be this stinky, if I did I woulda packed soap” She chuckled and looked up with a cheeky grin. She pulled out a bottle and two small ceramic cups “I brought a bit’a honey wine. We can toast to muh excellent picnic packing skills or-“

“Rayla, you planned all of this for me?” He spoke softly and sincerely.

“Yeah o’course, I Iove you.” She quickly kissed him on the lips. ‘Here try this.” She excitedly shoved a cube of cheese in his mouth before he could speak again.

“OH that is good cheese.” It was nutty and creamy and Callum savored it.

“I know right! She was clearly pleased with herself and giddy to show him what she’d packed.

“But seriously Rayla” he wanted to get back to the subject and reached out and cupped her cheek “Really, thank you”.

She leaned into his touch and sighed happily “Yer welcome. I know I’m the best most kind, beautiful and funny girlfriend you could ever ask fer. Now eat! I brought these bacon-wrapped sun dates. Apparently this merchant imports them from Lux Aurean. Oh and these she pointed to another open package this is a smoked fish that tastes like berries. In’t that weird?”

She pushed that into his mouth too. Callum scrunched his face “Um… eh… that’s really... weird... it’s like my mouth and my tongue are confusing my brain”

Rayla popped a piece in her own mouth and cringed “that sounded good in theory when I bought it” She tried one more piece and then shook her head no. “ok yeah, no, it’s a weird texture thing” she stuck her tongue out and scraped it against her teeth before moving to the next item “This is better I actually sampled this one”.

They went on like that for the rest of the meal, giggling and feeding each other various foods imported from around Xadia. They each had a cup of wine and she teased him for the way his cheeks turned rosy.

“Ok stinky prince, let's get you cleaned up. Take yer clothes off”

Callum chuckled nervously. “Get naked here? In the woods? What if someone comes or a monster jumps out or-?”

“That’s what towels and muh blades are for, duh” She said it as the most obvious thing in the world and tossed both to the edge of the water. She stood up and pulled her shirt over her head without hesitation and tossed it aside “yer turn!” she wiggled her eyebrows.

Callum inhaled sharply when he saw her. The glow of the flowers caught her hair and silhouetted the shape of her small perky breast. He clumsily pulled his own shirt off. When the fabric was out of the way he looked back at her. She had moved onto the laces of her pants. Now her perfect lavender nipples had grown hard in the chilly night air. He felt his blood rush, first to his now scarlet cheeks, second was the throbbing between his legs.

She stepped out of her pants and was now stark naked in front of him. Her lithe frame was begging to be grabbed and her white curls were ready to be stroked. “Ok get those pants off or I’ll do it for you” She chuckled.

He laughed nervously, feeling exposed. Part of him liked the idea of her doing it for him but he did as he was told “Oh um yeah let me just” he turned trying to position himself in a way that would somehow make his erection less obvious.

She teased him saucily “Callum are you gett’in nervous because yer willy‘s hard?”

“What! No! I…” He protested a little too strongly. She raised her eyebrow at him and he relented “Yes...”.

She rolled her eyes “I’ve seen it plenty” she laughed. Oh, how he loved that laugh. “Now hurry up and get you and yer big’ol pecker into this pool” Then she jumped in and her head went below the surface, he immediately knew this wasn’t going to go well. He rushed to get his foot out of his pant leg and nearly fell over. As expected when she resurfaced she was waving her arms and spluttering “It’s deeper than it looks!” she floundered “CALLUM!” She coughed and bobbed “this was a mistake, I regret everythin” she squealed “HELP”

“RAYLA, I got you!” freed from his pants he immediately jumped in after her.

After a lot more flailing, a little not crying and Callum being accidentally elbowed in the nose he swam her over to a shallower side of the hot spring.

“You’re such a brave warrior” He was laughing at her “I think you’re swimming has really improved”

“Shut it, don’t patronize me or this time I’ll hit your face on purpose”

He raised his hands in surrender, “You’re such a bully”

“Aye but I’m yur bully” She kissed him “I’m cleaning you off now, yer a bit ripe” She waded to the side and pulled herself out. She repositioned the picnic spread and her swords to the shallow end of the pool, she stopped and scowled at the deep end muttering an insult he didn’t catch. He loved her annoyed face, he found it cuter than he probably should.

His current view was exceptional. The erection that had melted away during the deep end incident was making its return. Callum can’t imagine wanting anyone else, she was it for him, brave, kind, heroic and that ass... He could look at her all day and never get bored.

“Alright, I got a washrag but as stated earlier no soap, makin do.”

Callum tisk tisked “I guess that basket isn’t as infallible as you claimed” She rolled her eyes and carefully lowered herself into the shallow end. Callum knew it will probably be years before she jumps into water like that again. She took the wet rag and started wiping his chest and shoulders.

“Rayla you don’t have to, I can clean myself off” He smiled and reached for the cloth but she pulled it away.

“I want tae do it,” She said it soft and sweetly and stopped to kiss the places she scrubbed. Now lean back, you can float” He complied and she starting washing his hair. Her nimble fingers massaged his scalp, he couldn’t keep his eyes open. The sensation of floating in the warm water the way her hands felt on his body was phenomenal. Every piece of stress was evaporating, he couldn’t feel the bruises or sore muscles anymore. Then she was kissing him and like a damsel in a storybook, he opened his eyes serenely.

“Did ye like that?” she asked coyly.

“Mmmm hmmm” he pulled himself up and kissed her. “You knew exactly what I needed Rayla. You put together the perfect evening that I didn’t even know I wanted”

“Well I figured you would’a spent the whole evening moping in bed, Nobody likes a mopey mage. It was mah duty to intervene”

He chuckled “your assumptions would be correct” another long sweet kiss. “I like this much better than sulking. Thank you Rayla, for taking care of me”

She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. She played with the hair at the nape of his neck while she spoke “I think take’en care of you is part of lovin you.” She smiled and it was radiant, her eyes were bright in the moonlight and It melted Callum. “How are those bruis-?”

“Marry me” he didn’t know he was going to say it until the words had left his mouth. Both of them froze, she blinked one, two, three times.

“Yes” She said it with no hesitation or indecision and smiled sweetly, she cupped his face in her hands stroking his cheek with her thumb. He stood there frozen with his arms around her waist processing what just occurred, what he had just said.

Rayla’s smile grew increasingly nervous the longer he stood petrified “uuuuuh Callum?” Impulsivity seemed to be a trend, he grabbed her and crushed her lips with his. They stayed there kissing until they had to pull away for air.

He caught his breath and tried to clear he daze “Did I just… did we? Are we engaged now?” Callum tried not to stutter.

“Um, I think so? Is this not how humans do it? One person asks, the other says yes? Am I miss’in some weird human thing?” she asked it genuinely concerned.

He laughed and spun her around in the water. “Yes! No, that’s all fine, it’s perfect, you’re perfect. Wow, I didn’t plan that at all.” He laughed “Rayla, I love you! Oh, I need to get you a ring!” He was blathering.

“So we did miss a step then?” She chuckled presumably at the sheer joy and absurdity of what just happened. “You know I feel pretty lucky muhself... Whats the ring for?” She gave him a cheeky grin.

He hollered into the night, not caring who heard “YEAH! WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!”

She shushed him with kisses, giggling “What have I told you about being a loud mage.”

“It’s a lie, I’m loud and you’re gonna marry me anyways! Agh you’re so beautiful.” He gushed. “I love you!.” She just giggled before pulling him in for a passionate kiss. She tipped the mood from jovial to seductive by wrapping her legs around his waist.

She smirked at what she felt “Oh hello! were you wantin somethin?”

“Um, hehe, I mean… I wasn't intending to but yes always… always yes… whenever you let me yes”

“Yeah I know, I am pretty irresistible aren’t I?” she chuckled and teased before enticing him in a husky voice “give it to me you big dumb human” He immediately started kissing her, walking them over to the side of the pool, his hands started groping at her ass and her waist, her hands gripped at his back.

He broke their kiss “wait, did you want me to give it to you give it to you? In the woods?”

“YES!” she shook his shoulders “Take me now sweet prince!”

Callum ran his hand up her thigh under the water and kissing her neck and muttering “You know you’re a gift to me right? Every time it’s an exciting surprise” He ground himself against her and she whined. He lifted her out of the water partially so he could take one of her firm nipples into his mouth swirling his tongue around it. “Playing with you never gets old”.

“Mmm You try’na drive me mad Callum?” She was practically purring as she rolled her head back.

“Maybe.” He ran two fingers along the outside of her folds. She moaned unabashedly and he smirked “All I know is I want to spend the rest of my life making you do that”

“Good thing I just agreed tae marry ya isn’t it” She pulled his face to hers and kissed him, nibbling his lower lip and ground against him.

This time it was his turn to shudder “it’s a veeerrrry good thing” He agreed muffled by her lips.

He used two fingers and rubbed a circle at her opening. He’s learned her body over the last few years of hand stuff, he knew exactly where to touch and what speed. Always able to find her little bundle of nerves. Despite the wild pace their kissing had escalated to, he tried his best to keep his touch smooth and light. Slowly increasing the depth of his penetration with each thrust of his fingers while trying to keep his thumb on her clitoris.

“Calluuuuum” she moaned and rolled her head back “hmmmmmmm I want’a feel you”. But his work has already paid off and she writhed and panted, tensing up and then slumped forward kissing his shoulder lazily. Making her cum always made him feel smug and proud.

He had once over heard Gren say (with a beat red face) “a gentleman always serves his lady first” Callum had tried to uphold that standard of curtesy.

When she caught her breath she started kissing him again and this time she was the one who did the groping. With her narrow hand, she started working the length of his erection. He massaged her ass and moaned. She spoke low “I want you inside me Callum”. She didn’t need to ask twice. Together they lined him up and he pulled her down onto the length of him. He buried his face in her neck and nibbled. Starting to rock slowly he found her little nub again and rolled circled around it.

He focused more on her than on thrusting, she made up for if by grinding on her. Still sensitive from the first climax she started to fall apart again quickly. She was scraping her nails across his back.

“Rayla, look at me” her violet eyes opened and she smiled the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. He took a moment to enjoy the way the moon seemed to make the violet glow. She struggled to maintain eye contact when she cried out and shuddered. He loved seeing her like this, feeling these sensations with her. Looking her in the eyes felt intimate, like in completed him.

The feel of her contracting around him almost put him over the edge. This was the first time he’d tried something like this. To pleasure her while simultaneously being inside her. They’d only had sex less than a half dozen times. He knew his longevity needed some work so he wanted to make the most out of it. It was exceptionally more difficult than he thought it would be but the reward was dazzling. Her nails dug into his shoulders and her back arched. She cried out again and then whimpered between gasps. Rolling through the waves.

Now it was his turn, he put his head down kissing her neck as he began thrusting into her with full force and enthusiasm. The pleasure ramped up and she started to whisper “I love you” He thrust “I love you” thrust “Callum” thrust “I love you-”. He barely had enough time to unsheathe himself before he came.

"Rayla I love yo-” he groaned. As his head spun he was too late to realize his knees buckled, he slipped into the water and took Rayla with him. He was smacked in the face as she tried to pull herself up, it didn’t feel entirely on accident.

“I coulda drowned“ She shrieked

He just laughed at her while the tingling sensations dissipated. “The water is barely three and a half feet”!

“Still!” she was being dramatic “So this is the story we’re goin’ta tell our children someday? You ask me tae marry me you, make sweet love tae me and immediately try tae drowned me! And after I went through all this trouble settin up this picnic for you?”

She never fails to make him laugh “I think we leave out the making love part”.

“But I like that part” She smirked.

“It sounded like you did, didn’t it?” He was so smug. “But really I don’t think other people want to hear that part of the story”.

They toasted each other with another cup of wine, continued to flirt and relaxed in the pool awhile longer before dressing and making their way back. Partway Rayla asked a serious question “Callum?”

“hmm?” he hummed.

“Is it wrong for us to get married now? While Claudia… and them… while they’re out there and the war isn’t done.” She asked it tentatively.

Callum stopped walking and thought a moment. “No, no I don’t. I think if we let them stop us, stop us from being happy and living our life, it means they won in a way. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah” She agreed “I suppose that’s a good way to think of it”

Callum’s thoughts turned a little darker. “I also, I don’t want to risk any regrets, or missing out on anything with you. You never know what could happen”. The nightmares of her falling to her death had been usurped by their more recent encounter with Viren and company. His mind slipped back into the memory. Rayla’s arm twisted behind her back as Claudia used the withered octopus tentacle to hold her down and contort her limps. He’ll never forget the sounds, Raylas screams and the way the bone popped as the shoulder left it’s socket. To make things worse the dark mage was so focused on torturing Rayla she didn’t see Callum’s blast of lightning coming. If Claudia hadn’t had a healing spell on hand the electricity probably would have killed her. Screams and the vision of black eyes with nothing but hatred and malice behind them have been burned into his psyche. He felt himself shiver. As his fiance knocked him out of the sour haze.

“Callum, it’s ok” She moved in front of him and directed his face with her hands. “We don’ have tae think about that now. It’s fine, I’m fine. Look!” She rolled her shoulder, raised and wiggled her arm. “See, it’s ok” She hugged him and he relaxed into it, holding her close. “I agree, I don’t want tae miss out on anything.” She did the Rayla thing she does and lightening the mood by making him laugh. “What happened tae the hoot’in mage blabbering about marrying the world’s most lovely and perfect assassin? Huh?”

He chuckled and tried to let the worry melt away. “I love you”

The rest of the walk back to the Earth Nexus he banished the nightmare and embraced that this was a dream he never wanted to wake up from. They held hands and all the sensations were perfect, his clean skin against clean clothes, the cool breeze on his damp hair and the post-coital glow. He had so much hope that their future together.

[hnrywinchester]

Fare Thee Well - - 14

Summary: She hasn’t sene Gabriel since he died nine years ago, then a phone call changes everything.

Pairing: Gabriel x OFC

Series Warnings: ANGST, smut, swearing, PTSD Gabriel, Character Deaths, Canon Compliant

Beta’d by: @aquietuniverse

Words: 4.6k

“Gabe…. Gabriel.. Fuck,” Liv panted as she writhed on the mattress, two handfuls of honey blonde hair tightly wound between her fingers, “I can’t…” “You can,” he urged, his mouth relenting from her overstimulated core just long enough to get the words out before his tongue returned to it’s task, “stop resisting, and let it happen.” An exasperated groan broke free from her lips. The pressure was too much, but for some unknown reason it wouldn’t relent. Maybe she didn’t want it to end, or maybe it was because this felt different than all the other times. It almost felt too good. It was the kind of good that she feared would never be replicated, so she had to prolong it as long as she could. She also knew this wasn’t even the worst he could do. He was taking it easy on her, so why this was so mind-blowing was a mystery. Plus, it wasn’t like this exact scenario hadn’t taken place just two weeks prior. It had to be the slight hangover, or maybe the fact that they’d hadn’t really relented with each other for the past twenty four hours. She wasn’t about to tell him to stop though… Finally, she felt relief impending. That bubble in her stomach began to inflate into her chest, her fingers and toes tightening as she yanked his head to exactly where she needed it. As she cried out a string of profanities littered with his name, she felt him hum in appreciation against her, adding just enough to send one more aftershock vibrating through her. “You don’t play fair,” she panted as his lips finally released her and began kissing a trail up her stomach. “Never claimed to,” he teased, “plus, you started it. Waking me up with that sinful, oh-so-talented mouth. It actually is only fair I return the favor. So…” “Shut up.” “I don’t know what you were expecting. When have I ever left you high and dry? Well, when I’m in my right mind anyway…” “It was supposed to be just for you!” “I don’t do ‘just for me’, sweetheart. You know this. Why are you complaining, by the way? I’d ask if it was good but I already felt the answer.” “I’m not complaining…” The little pout that settled on her lips was one of the most endearing things he’d ever seen. Her flushed face and still half sleep-lidded eyes was definitely the sight he wanted to wake up to for the rest of eternity. He flopped down onto his stomach beside her, arms burying under the pillow as he laid his head down onto it, face towards her. He knew it was time to get up, it was Luci day, but another five minutes wouldn’t kill anyone. As her heart settled from one of what she hoped would be many more mornings with him, she rolled over on top of him. Her chest pressed into his back and she snaked her arms around his neck, giggling at the grunts and groans that sounded as he shifted to accommodate them. “Oh, not mad anymore?” he teased, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smile. “Guess not,” she retorted, squishing her nose against his cheek, “are you ready for today?” “‘Course. Why wouldn’t I be?” “Lucifer…” “Eh, he’s nothing.” Her stomach dropped at his words. Typical of him to not understand the gravity of a situation. She hadn’t seen the Devil since he’d “killed” Gabriel all those years ago, seeing him again was certainly going to kick up some long-repressed memories. “Baby, he isn’t nothing. Please tell me you’re taking this seriously,” she pleaded, pushing herself off of him. “I’m taking it seriously, don’t worry about me,” he replied, turning over to his back to watch her as she put her clothes back on, “Come on, I’ll make you breakfast. I sent Cassie out to get some food for this dump yesterday.” The frown on her face remained as he tried to lighten the mood. He noticed, pursing his lips as his head swayed to the side. Why couldn’t he get one day without some kind of catastrophe needing his attention? He wasn’t going to admit to her face he was just as nervous as he was when they went after him nine years ago. He hadn’t told her then either, but this plan seemed at least slightly more geared for success and with better odds. Luci wasn’t jacked up on his ego and vengeful after eons in the cage. This time would be different. “It’s gonna be fine!” Gabriel continued, getting out of bed and dressing before going to stand in front of her, “I promise.” “You can’t promise that,” she warned, glaring at him through her brows, “That’s what you said last time.” “Yeah, and last time it was fine too. Just what happened afterwards went a little south…” “Gabriel. I can’t…” “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Who dies when they have this much to live for, right?” Gently, he pulled her into his arms, tucking his chin onto the top of her head. They stayed still, minds racing. All the contentment she’d thrived in yesterday had washed away, being replaced by the vision of his wings seared into the wooden floor of that old hotel, body laid out, still and bloody. Even with his arms around her that still felt like a reality, the piece of her that only he kept together shook in its place as she recalled the years of his absence. She still hadn’t given him an answer, whether or not she would stay behind, and the question was still buzzing in the back of his mind. His own chances of making it out of there in one piece were low enough, he didn’t need to add her into the mix. Michael would be gunning for her first. “Just…” she stuttered, lifting her head to look at him. “I know,” he answered, not needing to even hear the rest. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, feeling the tension she was holding in her neck and shoulders melt away at his gesture. Her pace picked up as the desperation set in, locking a hand into his hair as her eyebrows scrunched together. If life had taught her anything, it was that something standing right in front of you could be gone without a moment’s notice. “Hey, hey,” he cooed, pulling his head away, “look at me.” Regrettably, she opened her eyes, swallowing hard to repress tears she knew were coming. His face was soft yet strong as his hands came up to cup her face. He gave her that trademark smirk and she wished she could have said it helped ease her building anxiety, but it didn’t. “Lucifer doesn’t know what’s about to hit him. I got him, okay?” he assured, kissing her forehead, “Now, kitchen. Go.” Grabbing his hand, she led him from the bedroom. A piece of him was happy to be out of there, he had to make a point to scrub the walls clean before they slept in there again. She may not be able to read the words written there, but he could. He needed no more reminders than the ones already burned  into his memory of his time down in the pit. When they popped out of the hall and into the main area, their attention was grabbed by a large, slumped figure in the library —Sam. He was still wearing the same clothes he had the day before, setting alarms off in both of their heads. Quickly, Liv changed direction and tugged Gabriel towards the hunter. “Sam?” she asked quietly, “did you sleep?” “Uh hey. No,” Sam admitted, his lips forming into a tight line, voice heavy. “Do you want to?” Gabriel inquired, placing a hand on Liv’s lower back, “I got enough in the tank to knock you out for a few hours. Better than nothin’.” “No. Thanks though.” “You need to sleep, Sam,” Liv continued, “We have a big day.” “Yeah. Trust me. I know.” “What’s up buddy?” Gabriel chimed in, stepping a little closer to him. “Lucifer.” Gabriel nodded, tucking his lips into each other, “Can you give us a minute?” he whispered into Liv’s hair, kissing her temple afterwards. With a small smile and a nod, she took off in the direction of the kitchen, hoping that Gabriel could fix whatever was plaguing Sam . As soon as Liv was out of view, Gabriel pulled out the chair next to Sam and sat down. Sam’s eyes were tired, black circles having formed underneath, his face even more conflicted than normal. “What’d he do to you?” Gabriel finally spoke up. “Everything. When I was stuck in the cage with him for… for a year,” Sam confessed, too tired to even care it was the Trickster he was pouring his heart out to. “Yeah, I can sympathize with that first part. Never was stuck in the cage with him, heaven before he was cast out though… shit show.” Sam’s eyes changed and filled with sympathy as he looked at the archangel. Gabriels’ face was set into a sad, lopsided smile, his eyes mirroring Sam’s. Gabriel remembered those years, before Earth had been created, before Lucifer had been kicked out, anarchy began and Dad disappeared. Before he ran. “I was the youngest brother there for a little while, before pops made the seraphs. He’s always been a twisted dick, don’t know where that wiring went so wrong…” Gabriel continued. “How’d you… deal with it?” Sam mumbled softly. “I didn’t. Lot’a pent up issues in this handsome façade Sam, I’d give Dean a run for his money. Back then, I told myself I was helping my brother fight through his issues. I thought I was doing him a service, proving to him that I loved him. Letting him use me like that… But you know how this story ends.” “Yeah. I’ve tried running too.” “Luci always comes home.” A silence settled between the two men, heavy and thick as they both traveled back into their nightmares. Gabriel recalled years and years of mutilation and abuse at the hands of his brother, one could even call it torture. Physical, mental, emotional, Lucifer knew no limit when it came to inflicting pain. He’d used Gabriel’s soft and gentle nature against him, using it to his advantage like it was a sport. When he finally fled heaven, it was the first time he had ever truly felt peace, even through the pain of missing his family. “Are you… afraid to see him?” Sam questioned, his eyes falling to the table. “Afraid? Nah. Nothing worse he can do to me than what he’s already done,” Gabriel answered, his voice void of the fear he felt, “I survived. Like to think I came out on top actually.” That was a conviction he truly felt. Lucifer, he hadn’t changed. He was still bitter, jaded, cruel. He’d done nothing to remedy his flaws and downfalls over the years, whereas Gabriel felt he had. Well, at least he’d tried. He’d loved, lost, saved a few people, killed a couple of bad apples. All in all he didn’t think he’d done too badly for himself, considering. Then there was Liv, of course. No matter what powers Lucifer held over Gabriel, he’d never have something like her. “Don’t… let him get to you,” Gabriel continued, “He feeds on it. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Sam was shocked by the sentiment in Gabriel’s tone. This was the same guy that killed Dean in front of him hundreds of times, and then made him live out six months of pure hell in some elaborate prank. Yet, here he was now, hunting down the devil and willing to put himself on the line to save the world, even if he was a little reluctant. Times certainly had changed. “How long?” Sam inquired nervously, “how long have you and Liv been, whatever you are.” “Long time,” Gabriel responded, “if you’re wondering if she was around for Mystery Spot, then yeah. Earned myself the dog house for that one. Ya hungry? I’m making the Liv Special. Eggs over easy and more bacon than any one human being ever needs to consume. You’ll be doing her arteries a favor by sharing.” “Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks.” As Gabriel took off in the direction of the kitchen, Sam knew he needed to linger a little bit longer. Dean was still passed out in his bed, his snores could faintly be heard from all the way in the library. Sam had heard him stumble in around 4 AM, his efforts with that little brunette were not in vain. While he knew Gabriel’s intentions were good, the angel had done nothing to ease his mind. If anything, it had only pissed him off further. Lucifer had been destroying lives since before the sun was even created, yet somehow God had let him continue to exist. He thought back to all the people they’d lost throughout the years and the fact that that devoid, petulant monster was still walking freely angered him to no limit. One day they’d get the upper-hand on him and end him once and for all or he was going to die trying. When Gabriel turned into the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway. Some things needed to be appreciated and revered for exactly what they were and this was one of them. Liv was seated on the counter, her legs hanging freely over the edge, swinging absentmindedly as she held a mug of coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. Her attention was still very much engaged with whatever she was doing on it, he was fairly certain it was that weird candy game he’d caught her playing a few times now. She was addicted to it. Her hair was cascading around her face and shoulders, his t-shirt hung loosely on her small frame and he couldn’t help but take in the rawness of the moment. This was her. Most would never see this side of her, they’d never be so lucky. To them, she’d always be that tough-as-nails hunter with the tongue to boot. To him, she’d always be that goofy, clumsy, giggling nerd who watched too much Harry Potter and could solve almost the entire Sunday Crossword singlehandedly. He figured at some point when Dad was pulling everything together, turning atoms into molecules and molecules into trees, platypus’, angels and humans, a piece of her must have been thrown into him by mistake. One little molecule meant for her was whirring around wreaking chaos, rewiring his electrical currents. How could something so small and insignificant be so profound that it changed fate itself? He knew he wasn’t meant to love her, he was designed for a much greater purpose, but as he stood before her there was no grander task he could have been assigned. He was her lover, her best friend, her guardian and she the very thing that kept his grace pumping through his veins. Perhaps it was that little stolen piece of her that had kept him alive through the tortures of hell. Buzzing in his body on overdrive, jumpstarting his own wearied cells into functioning just enough to keep him going day after day, year after year. Remember what you’re fighting for. She was the beginning and the end, the very definition of purpose. There was no force that heaven, hell, or anything in between could muster that was strong enough to tear him from her now. “Hey,” she greeted, finally catching sight of him leaning in the entryway, “what’re you doing?” “Enjoying the view,” he beamed, pushing himself off the frame and towards her. As he advanced she rolled her eyes, scoffing with a grin. She tossed her phone down onto the counter as he came to stand in front of her, nestling himself between her knees with his hands pressed into the cool countertop on each side of her. Her arms wrapped around his neck lazily, one hand toying with his messy hair. “You know, your face is gonna get stuck that way if you keep rolling your eyes like that,” he teased. His lips fell to her throat, her pulse thrumming beneath his lips reminding him again that she was real. She was here. She was with him. “You don’t have to come today,” he whispered against her skin, lips feathering as he spoke. “Don’t be dumb,” she insulted, “I’m going. Don’t even try to stop me. You’re making me sit out the grand finale, I’m at least helping in the opener.” A sigh of relief exploded from his chest. He felt her breathe a small laugh through her nose, her arms wrapping a little tighter around him. His lips began to brush against her again, trailing up her neck and face until his forehead was pressed firmly against hers. She finally answered his request, and for once, she was giving in. “Thank you,” he choked, the relief settling so many of his nerves and fears. “You owe me,” she warned, keeping her eyes locked on his. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. Swear to… you.” Swearing to God held no meaning, not to him, but she did. She smiled with one side of her lips, bringing one hand between them and holding her pinky out straight. He mirrored her expression, linking his own smallest finger with hers and squeezing, pulling their hands into his chest. With not a second’s more hesitation he leaned in and kissed her, lightly at first, but his motions picking up speed and tempo as he grew more and more grateful for this break he’d been given. She’d be safe here, at home. She’d have the witch as backup, in a warded bunker loaded with more weapons than anyone knew what to do with. When he came home, he’d bury himself in her arms, finally ready to take on the future. A future filled with nothing but her and peace and quiet. “Have you decided on where exactly we’ll be going when this is all said and done?” Gabriel’s anticipation bubbled over, he wanted specifics on where his life would be headed in just a few days time. “Mexico? Maybe Belize again…” she mused, that coy little smirk still plastered on her face. “Oh I always knew you were perfect.” “I like the beach, and the food, and you like the tequila. Win win.” “Uh, correction. I like you drunk on the tequila. Something about it makes you throw inhibitions to the wind and I have a deep appreciation for it.” Sam rounded the corner and paused where Gabriel had moments before, the scene before him making him smile. Gabriel was hovered in towards Liv sitting on the countertop, her arms wrapped around his neck with the most serene expression on her face. It was a look he would have never thought possible for her. They were both smiling with their entire faces, completely enraptured by one another; a tornado could pass by and he didn’t think they’d even notice. He hadn’t seen a look like that on Gabriel’s face since before they’d outed him as an archangel, unbridled happiness tinged with a touch a mischief. He looked at her like she was made of a magic only he could see. They certainly did bring out the best in each other. Maybe the worst, too. A pang of guilt hit him in the stomach. Clearly, they just wanted to run off into the sunset together, but here they were being drug off into his and his brother’s mess once again. He knew there was no other option, and Dean would never forgive either of them for walking away now, but it didn’t change the fact that Sam knew this wasn’t their problem. It never had been. He watched as Gabriel leaned in and kissed her, soft and slow. It was the way you kissed someone that you knew you had the power to break, but never would. It was reassuring and absolute. It was the kind of kiss he craved to give to someone, to receive in return, but that wasn’t his fate. It never was and it never would be. “I’m hungry,” Sam heard Liv pout as Gabriel pulled away, and he figured it was time to make his presence known. “Hey,” he greeted, walking into the kitchen like he hadn’t just been watching them. “Sam,” she announced, her face losing some of the softness he’d just been witness to, “slacker here hasn’t even started yet if you’re looking for breakfast.” Gabriel groaned in jest as he trudged over-dramatically to the fridge, pulling out the groceries he’d sent Castiel to collect the day before. Liv snickered to herself, hopping down to the floor and fetching two frying pans so they could begin their task. Sam sat back and watched as the pair worked seamlessly together. Gabriel did most of it, Liv passing eggs and utensils as needed and he wondered how, after so many years apart, two people could still be so in sync with one other. It was like not a second had passed. When he moved around her, he brushed a hand against her lower back, the little motion always eliciting at least a twitch of a smile from her lips and he swore they passed things back and forth without even so much as a look. Their motions were almost second nature, so deeply ingrained it was more habit than effort. The sight of an all powerful archangel in his kitchen frying bacon and eggs was certainly not something Sam ever expected to be sitting through. He thought he might actually be sad when they all went their separate ways. “Never knew you could cook Gabriel,” Sam commented, the smell of bacon filling the room and he knew Dean would be roused by it soon. “Oh yeah,” the angel bragged as he switched his attention from the bacon to the eggs, “You get bored after a while, Sammy.” “He can play guitar, too,” Liv boasted further, turning and leaning her back against the counter, “and we moonlit as bartenders for a little while. Also good at that.” “Oh yeah? Bartenders huh?” Sam wondered, “why?” “Why not?” Gabriel noted, “We had fun.” There was so much more to them than Sam could have ever guessed. He hoped they’d stick around for even a few days after they returned, to tell their stories. The bunker could use a little happy every once in awhile. Liv came over moments later, setting a plate down in front of Sam and herself, taking a seat across from him. Sam had to admit, this had to be one of the best looking breakfasts he’d seen in awhile. “You gonna be all right?” She asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Me? Oh yeah. I’ll be fine,” Sam promised, and he watched as Liv looked to Gabriel for reassurance. “Do I smell bacon?” a gravelly, sleep-heavy voice called from the hallway. The three inhabitants of the kitchen all turned their attention to the doorway, the image of a bathrobe-clad, hungover Dean coming into view. Gabe’s chin tucked into his neck as his eyebrows furrowed, his reaction earning a stifled giggle from Liv. “Wow,” Gabriel commented, “Mark this under things I had no interest in ever experiencing.” Sam and Liv burst out into laughter as they watched Dean’s face wrinkle in confusion and offense, Gabriel standing true in his disgusted expression. Dean brushed past the angel, fumbling loudly as he poured himself a mug of coffee, pouring almost half of it out onto the counter. “Do you have no self-awareness?” Gabriel chided as he watched Dean leave the mess, “Or are you just that disgusting?” “Never took you as a neat freak, Gabe,” Dean teased, smirking as he sat down next to his brother, “send a plate of that over here, will ya?” Gabriel’s nostrils flared as he glared at the hunter, his eyes full of contempt. He couldn’t wait to be out of here. “Please?” Dean added sarcastically. Liv shook her head, these two would never get along. Luckily, they wouldn’t have to for much longer. She watched as Gabriel prepared a plate, haphazardly tossing food onto it in a manner very much unlike him. Even with this simple task, he was all about presentation. As he tossed it onto the counter and turned to lean against the stove Liv laughed again, all about presentation and a little petty. “I am not delivering it to you,” Gabriel stated matter-of-factly, “Not even in your wildest dreams.” “You two are going to be the death of us all,” Liv retorted, bringing her empty plate over to the sink, “behave.” Her hand skimmed over Gabriel’s chest as she whispered that last word just to him as she passed. She wound her way back to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her for one moment of privacy. She’d made up her mind, deciding to give Gabriel a reprieve from his anxiety and stay behind from the main mission. While everything was still screaming at her to not let him go over there alone, she knew she had to trust him. She had to trust the Winchesters and Castiel; they’d get him home safely. He’d get himself home to her, he said he would, and he wouldn’t break another promise. Right now, the focus was on Lucifer. While she knew they’d be headed off to destruction land as soon as they got their hands on archangel grace, that time wasn’t here just yet. She dressed in more suitable attire for hunting the devil, but kept Gabriel’s old shirt on, it just seemed right having it on. Typically, she only ever slept in it, but it seemed appropriate even if she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. She was left alone for thirty minutes, her thoughts running rampant, before a soft knock startled her from her worries. “Can I come in?” a familiar sweet voice sounded from the other side of the antiquated wood. “Of course,” she replied softly, if he was anything but an angel he probably wouldn’t have even heard. When he stepped into the room, he saw exactly what he was expecting. She was seated on the edge of the bed, head hung low, too far gone in her head to dig herself out alone. “Look, I know you’re pissed,” he began. “I’m not pissed, Gabe,” she cut off, snapping her eyes up to him, “I’m… panic-stricken.” He sighed, “I know. Anything I can do? To… ease your suffering?” Leave it to him to pull a smile in the most unlikely of times. Even if there was nothing except abandoning this fool’s plan once and for all. “It’s time to go,” he confessed as she remained silent, “I’ll drive. You just sit co-captain and look cute, yeah?” The pair made their way to the war room, meeting with the other four members of their unlikely team. Rowena and Castiel flanked the Winchester brothers, everyone trying their best to mask their concern and fears. “Okay, we got the plan, right?” Dean barked, his militant tone taking over, “main players are Rowena and Gabe. Cas you’re back up one, Liv, Sam, we’re back up two. We juice him, cuff him, throw him in the trunk. That’s it, on to the next.” Everyone nodded once, their stomachs collectively falling as they walked off towards the garage. Little did they know it was one step towards a path of total and complete destruction. TAGS: @idabbleincrazy @analisespn @nodistressdamsel @morganas-pendragons

[amytaylcr]

the morning after

TAGGING → @casskaykingston LOCATION → Cass’s home TIMEFRAME → Thursday, October 18, morning 

The sliver of sky Amy could see through the window of Cass’s bedroom was turning a shade of blue dusted with silver when sleep had finally come to claim her body. The moment their bodies were no longer connected into one, they had replaced that bond by tangling themselves up around each other, legs intertwined, fingers interlaced, her head resting on his chest. It was the first good night’s rest she’s had in a long while, months having passed since the last time she had been in this house, in this very room. It seemed like their night had had a similar effect on Cass as his blue eyes were still held captive by dreams when her hazel ones pulled themselves out of the heavy grasp of slumber. She laid in his bed, cuddled into his side, and waited for guilt and regret to kick in and chastise her for opening herself up to someone, but nothing happened as she watched his chest rise and fall with each breath he took. In fact, the weight she felt leave her shoulders the previous night still left her unburdened and light, something she hasn’t felt in god knows how long. Gratitude swept through her like the warming rays of sun, and Amy decided to sneak out and make them something to eat. All that physical and emotional exertion had left her quite hungry in the morning.

Slipping out of the bed, careful not to make a sound, Amy helped herself to his wardrobe, remembering where his t-shirts were, and found one to put on, slipping into her pair of undies that lay discarded on the floor. A quick trip to the luscious bathroom to brush her teeth and run a comb through the mess of her growing locks, and she headed to the kitchen. Hudson was asleep right outside the bedroom, and he rose a curious but sleepy ear when she passed him, but returned his nuzzle back on his crossed legs to go back to sleep. Barefoot and making no noise, she found herself in the kitchen and started going through the cupboards, counters and fridge for inspiration, finally settling on bacon and scrambled eggs, toasting the bread lightly and cutting up a few cherry tomatoes she found in the fridges. All the while, stuck on repeat in her head, were the mental images of their night before and the way Cass had forgiven her, shutting her up and showing her just what it meant to be alive.

Coffee was finished brewing just when the soft pitter-patter of four padded paws scratched against the tiled kitchen floor. “Hey, boy,” Amy greeted Hudson when he came over to sniff her legs, licking gratefully. “I bet you’re hungry too, huh?”

If you'd had told Cass on that bitter September day weeks and weeks ago, barbed words sinking teeth of venom into each other in that neon bar that they'd be here? Like this? He wouldn't have believed you. Not one bit. Back then he'd had a heart still torn to shreds by the very woman he now held cuddled in his ears, her hair against her shoulders and pillow, her ear right above his own heartbreak. When she'd come to his door, lips full of apologies and eyes rife with regret, his walls crumbling down,  he'd wasted no time learning her mouth once more. The aftermath of their emotion heavy coupling results in secrets spilled over twisted sheets, explanations from both of their well used lips as they remained tangled together. Falling asleep, when it had finally come to them, had led to one of the deepest slumbers Cass had known. His aches, reminders of the accident that still hadn't left his system, had faded against the warmth of Amy against him, her gentle heat and soft skin lulling the buff blonde man into an easy and calming sleep.

So deep was it, so calm and warm, that it took Cass a few minutes to gain his bearings when his baby blues finally, unwillingly cracked open a bit. Normally awake with the dawn, it was odd to him to have such heavy sunlight already streaming in through his skylight, a groan roughened with sleep pushing out between his lips as he turns slowly over. The sheets tangled about muscular legs, he scrubs a hand down his scruffy face and reaches a big arm out unconsciously for Amy's curved (and hopefully still naked) form.

Except - wait - he was alone.

Panic shot him directly into awakeness, jackknifing into a sitting up position as his eyes darted around his room, searching for any sort of trace of her. She wouldn't have left her pants, would she? Her clothing still littered the floor, minus a pair of underwear, and his closet door hung ajar. Terror, brief and strong, clutched his heart - had she left? Had everything they shared yesterday not meant enough for her to stay? Was he going to go back down the broken heart spiral she'd last left him with, made indescribably worse with the memory of the night they'd just shared? Hesitantly, Cass gets out of bed, tugging on a pair of sweatpants before heading down the hallway. The murmur of a feminine voice still doesn't soothe him, not believing until he gets to the doorway of his kitchen from the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

She was still there.

Relief, strong and powerful washed visibly over his face when Amy looked up at him, blue eyes drinking in her visage like a starving man. Slightly tangled brown hair, a paying attention Hudson, gorgeous legs peeking from under his t-shirt. "I thought you'd left." He admits roughly, Cass's deep voice staggering over the syllables, arms braced on the doorway in all his shirtless, only-sweatpants-clad glory.

It wasn't long before footsteps sounded through the house, headed towards the kitchen, after Hudson had joined her there. Her heart bounced into a frenzied gallop at the thought of Cass joining her, a nervous and joyful smile tugging at her lips. After the events of the previous night, after everything she had told him in the dimmed light of the evening, fear lodged itself in her chest, wondering if the harsh morning light would change anything for them. Would Cass send her on her way now, after sleeping on the stories she told him? Chewing on her lower lip, Amy looked up at him from her crouched spot by Hudson, the tentative smile taking more solid shape now that he was there in front of her and not just a figment of her imagination.

"Still here," she said with a shake of her head, scratching behind the dog's floppy ears. He had grown significantly since they had rescued him from the beach all those weeks ago, and his hair was no longer dull and matte. "I didn't want to wake you up, but I thought I'd make breakfast," she explained, standing up and brushing her hands on the long shirt that fell loosely almost to her knees. "I also helped myself to one of these from your closet, I hope that's okay."

"Of course it's okay," He says quietly, disbelief still haunting his tone a bit. Unable to help himself, and drunk on the fact that he was now allowed to, he strode forward to her, pausing only a moment to pat Hudson on the head before pulling Amy up in his arms. Muscled biceps banding round her wait Cass lifts her up, face buried in her hair, certain her feet had left the ground but not caring as he lets out a happy sigh. "Thank you for not leaving, Amelia."

The moment of discomfort and uncertainty that stretched between them as they searched for the right way to approach each other was cut short, Cass walking up to her and pulling her in his arms. Instinctively, she stiffened at first— this would take some getting used to, after all, she couldn’t just forget everything that had been hardwired into her the past fifteen years. But slowly she relaxed, easing into his embrace, a smile gracing her lips as she looked up at him. Her hands traveled up his torso to rest on his shoulders, close to his neck, and the smile grew a little melancholic. “Thank you for letting me stay and hearing me out last night. I didn’t think I deserved it, but I had to try.”

Sure, the future was still a bit uncertain and fuzzy (even their next ten minutes) but for the minute Cass just allowed himself to be happy holding his girl in his arms. His girl. It was the first time the blonde man had been able to  say it in his head without feeling sadness, then regret and anger.  Warmth spreads from Amy's hands as she moves them up his arms and he sets her more completely down, pulling back so his blue eyes could look into her own. A thumb moved to brush over her cheek at the sadness he briefly saw there, the bittersweet taste of regret tasting them both. "I wouldn't have been able to send you away if I tried." He admits in a gruff voice, pressing a brief kiss to her forehead with a hand in her hair, palm touching her cheek. "You're my weakness." Cass loosens his arms a bit to clasp them around her just above her ass, sunlight coming through his hair. "Thank you for trying, too. I don't think - I don't think I could've come to you on my own." The reason for why, the past hurt that had lit in his blue eyes these past few weeks, remained explicitly unsaid.

With nothing left to stand between them, all of the secrets─ the building blocks of the walls around their hearts─ given away, there was a certain vulnerability she was completely unused to. Being held up by him, looking at him, it all left her feeling naked,  a brand new emotion taking hold of her insides as he set her back down. "I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing," she admitted with a nervous chuckle, the warmth of his lips on her forehead staying with her long after they were gone. She nodded her head as he expressed his gratitude, her eyes at level with his bare chest for the moment. "Probably better that way, I would have only sent you away, even now," she confided, the balance of her newfound situation still something she needed to get used to.

"Neither do it. But it is what it is." The big man brushes over her cheek again, tilting her head a bit with the intention to kiss her. Amy's words, however, make him pause, all his attention being given to her. It had been a while since Cass had been in a steady relationship - but he'd been sweet to one night stands, and it never really left your system, after all. That, in addition to his feelings for the woman in his arms, meant he fell into comfortable together routines easily - that is, if she agreed they could. "That, was also one of the reasons why I didn't." Cass agrees, the hand not on her face rubbing along her back, wishing his hand was on her bare skin rather than  on his t-shirt. "That, and - I didn't think I was strong enough to take you pushing me away again." Even with the security of her in his arms, and coming right out of her spending the night in his bed, Cass's heart was still afraid, and it showed in his eyes. Her treatment of it had left it battered and bruised, after all.

The reassuring brush of his fingertips over her cheek soothed her jittery nerves a little. Everything about what she had with him─ from their first kiss, over their fighting, to the previous night and this very morning─ was uncharted territory for her. She had to tread lightly, make sure she was comfortable doing this and wasn't hurting him again. After paying a visit to Brooks's grave with Wes, something had clicked inside her mind, something no amount of therapy and pieces of advice had ever been able to get through to her. And perhaps she rushed, perhaps she should have waited for that feeling to settle more than it did, but every second she wasn't with Cass, explaining to him what had happened, was a waste of time. Amy knew better than most just how good of a man he was and how lucky any woman would have been to have him. The fact that she hadn't completely ruined her chance at love with him left her both fearless and cautious about rushing headfirst into something she might not have been ready for. All the places where his hands touch her, though, spread serenity through her, and she bit down on her lip, ashamed by her previous inconsiderate actions. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, I just couldn't think of another way to get you to let me go," she reiterated again, something she had told him the night before, as well. "I won't do that again. I don't think so, anyway," her attempt at humor felt too soon, but she smiled a little anyway.

When Amy bites her lower lip, trying to think of words to answer him, her (boyfriend? person? whatever - ) zeroes in on it, momentarily mesmerized by the indentation in that softness. "Oh, don't do that," Cass mumurs, thumb reaching over to press against the bottom of it to free it from her teeth, the motion surprisingly intimate. He completes the mission he'd begun before and lands his lips gently on hers, laying on her a sweet and earnest kiss that he could (and if you asked Cass would deny it) feel down to his toes, before pulling back. "It was working. After all that an the accident - I was pretty low. I started going to therapy, did you know? And good. I'd like to think that we've already reached rock bottom," Cass murmured, eyes heavy lidded and soft as they gazed down at her. "There's nowhere to go but up, right?"

Cass saved her lip from the merciless tug of her teeth, something she had been exposing it to for weeks on end leaving it desiccated and raw in places. The faint smile his words brought to her lips was hidden underneath the kiss he gave her, their first since the night before. It was gentle and slow, lacking the emotional charge their kisses the night before had had, but still fueling the warmth in her heart. There was no urgency, no immediate threat that one of them would change their minds and turn around from what they had. After a night spent with twisted legs and intertwined fingers, it seemed as though they had both reached the same silent conclusion: this wasn't going to end any time soon, and Amy gave her all to the soft brush of his lips. Placing a hand on the nape of his neck, she kept him as close as possible even after their lips were no longer locked. "I didn't know that, but I'm glad. I was so scared when I heart about what happened," a deep sigh revealed only a fraction of the terror that chilled her broken heart, the fear that she had lost yet another man she had (almost) allowed into her heart. But it was something she could allow herself to think about in this treasured, private moment between the two of them. "I'd say you're right."

Amy's hand sliding up to his neck, keeping him close to her, was no concern for Cass, enjoying the moment as he leans the slightest bit forward to nudge her nose against his, a happy smile on whiskered lips. He hadn't made a genuine one of those in what had seemed like absolutely forever, not since his birthday when everything had gone to shit, with the exception of being in Wyatt's company. Through the heartache she'd put him through, words that still burned like aching fire in his chest that he pushed the awareness of out his head in favor of the reality of the woman in his arms. "I was being stupid. Wasn't taking care of myself, pushing too hard - it's been hard to try and pull back. Still is. I think I missed you the most, then. I wanted you to be with me, or even see me or say something." There's a chuckle that brushes through his full lips but it's cracked, much like the heart of the man that carries it. Throwing caution out, the hand on Amy's back drops lower to the hem of his shirt, pushing it up so he can draw his calloused hands down the line of her spine and feel her velvet skin underneath, the reassurance that she was there and not a dream his concussed brain had conjured for him. "This is going to sound dumb, after last night, but;" blue eyes squeezed closed, lips brushing against hers. "It's nice to know you cared. When I was in the hospital." 

Even though they stood mere inches apart, enjoying an intimacy and closeness like they had never before, her chest tightened with what he was saying. Guilt over letting go of Brooks now being replaced with guilt over hurting Cass, yet another thing to discuss at her weekly therapy sessions for god knows how long. Hopefully it wouldn't take fifteen years and a life thrown away all over again to resolve it, she thought bitterly as her teeth found her lip again, her latest nervous habit a tough one to kick. "I'm sorry," she murmured quietly, looking down their bodies and not daring to face him again, the shame all too strong for so early in the morning, even though he breathed out a weak chuckle. His hand slipped underneath the shirt she had on and traced her spine lightly, and she looked up as he piped up again, curiosity in her eyes. "I always cared. In my twisted logic, pulling away was me caring about you and sparing you something worse down the line. How was I to know that we were already down the line?"

He hadn't been trying to add more guilt onto her plate, to make her feel worse than she had more recently, and felt shame of his own. "I didn't - I didn't mean it like that, I don't think." Cass murmurs warmly to her, one hand stroking comfortingly down her neck. "I just needed to say it.  Just once, so it wouldn't be on my chest anymore. You're here now, and that's what matters." It was going to take a little time for the blonde man's heart to recover, to piece itself together now that he'd once again let her in, trusted her not to hurt it again. Though she wasn't afraid of him pushing her away, he knew down to his soul that she was afraid of loving someone just to lose him again. "I told you," he gently reminds her, a lopsided smile on his face. "So many times. It was too late to save me - from the second I kissed you for the first time, that was it. Speaking of." Cass shrank that tiny distance between them to kiss her once more, the novelty not even close to being lost on him.

Though Cass reassured her that his intention wasn’t to throw heaps of guilt back onto her conscience, it didn’t quite get rid of it for her. It would be a process— accepting the mistakes she’s made, learning from them so that she wouldn’t be ashamed of them every time she stopped to think, and his assurances weren’t enough just yet. It was something she would have to learn how to deal with, but at least she knew what she was working towards and what it was all for. Her sanity more than anything else. “I know you didn’t mean it that way,” she gets out feebly, mustering a small smile meant to reassure. The twisted way of thinking she adopted so many years ago had rooted itself so deeply that it still wasn’t something she could correct, so she nodded to his words. She would do well to remember this: the words, the tone, the touch of his hands more so than all the ways her mind would twist it all in her recollection. Still, when he leaned down to kiss her again, Amy felt a slight smile from against his full lips, and she lifted herself up on the tips of her toes to make it last longer. “I should have known better, that’s how it was for me, too,” she mumbled into his mouth and twirled a strand of his blonde hair between two fingers.

He knows she isn't hearing him, that the words are falling on deaf ears the same way they had in that bar so long ago - this was different though, in every way. There wasn't blood seeping through the wrappings of his hands, staring at her with a heart stomped and abused and torn to shreds. She wasn't drinking, spitting words at him intended to harm and push, push him even further away. Cass much preferred where they were now, Amy where she belonged - in his embrace - and his mouth and heart so close to hers. At least the small smile that peeked out before his kiss began gave him hope that she'd try not to go down the dark path again, a slight tug of his hair as she twists it around her fingers. He finds he loves the action, and it shows in the kiss he dots against her mouth in thanks. "Oh really?" The blonde muses, dipping both big hands down to lift her by her ass and place her on the nearby counter top, stepping between their legs to they were close like before. "What was it that had your attention, hmm?" Though he's half joking, there's a ghost of a plead in the words, some part of Cass needing it for assurance. It was still a bit hard for him to believe after all this time that he wasn't the only one willing to make it work. Now she was too.

A soft, raspy squeal escaped her when he lifted her off the ground, his strong arms supporting her weight until he set her down on one of the counters. Immediately, her legs circled around him to lock him in position, and her arms met on the back of his neck. The switch in their positions, the change of topic all helped Amy focus on things that didn’t make her want to slap herself for how she acted in the past. “What was it?” She echoed, lips pursed into a plump circle. Rewinding all of their kisses back to the first one, she thought back to the teasing banter as he changed the tire of his truck, the way he filled her view and asked permission to cross a line they both wanted to erase. The way her heart raced when she nodded her approval and their lips met for the first of many times. “I mean, you commanded all of my attention, it was difficult to think of anything else. But the feeling I got when we kissed... like I never wanted to stop doing it? That was a pretty clear sign.” That she ignored, choosing to take advantage of whatever time they had before giving into her feelings of guilt.

The raspy sound of surprise that Amy lets out when he lifts her can't help but bring a broad smile to Cass's full lips, her legs keeping him near her sending a pleasured warmth shooting through his sister. He hadn't felt that warmth in a while, that particular heat last touching him on the couch so close to them even now, and the realization that he was going to have time with it in the future gave a secret tilt to his grin. Watching Amy, the motion of his lips pouting out made his blue eyes zero in and pay attention, feeling his mouth go suddenly dry. Sure, it was just an expression, but it brought filthy thoughts to the ranch owners mind, filthy thoughts he was helpless to suppress. "I commanded your attention? Way to make a man feel special, Amelia Taylor." The built blonde rumbles with his eyes hazy and soft on her own hazel ones, hand slipping under her shirt. The memory of their first kiss hits him like a pleasured wave, cupping her face and saying please before he captured her lips in his own, it still giving him a feeling that he'd kept close to his chest. "Mmmm. Tell me a couple more and I'll tell you when I first realized that I felt something for you." He baited, a cheeky glimmer in his eye.

"You're the only man I've opened myself up to in fifteen years, the only one that's pushed me out of my shell and got me to face reality, and this is what makes you feel special?" She asked with a slight shake of her head, a chuckle tumbling over her lips. It was a pretty guy thing to say and hold onto, though, the nuanced, less obvious things somehow always falling to the background for them. It wasn't something she held against him, of course, her amusement showing she found it cute more than anything else. His hands dip below the hem of the shirt, and Amy relaxed into the graze of his fingertips. This was something she could get used to, the slow, lazy mornings that found them together after what felt like the first good night's rest in a long while. Still, the cuts and bruises, injuries sustained in their war of hearts, were still sensitive, still raw to the touch, and Amy had only been opening up for a short while. As much as she wanted to let him all the way in, the roads leading into her battered heart were still partially blocked and it would take time and effort to remove the obstacles. "A couple more?" She questioned with a chuckle verging on nervous. "You've overestimated how in touch with my feelings I am. Can't my actions speak louder than my words? Recent actions, that is."

His head tilts from side to side at her little recitation of all the reasons that he should feel like a special person, his smile growing with each one.  All those things that she'd mentioned didn't make him feel special; they made a golden glowing feeling surge in his chest, a rush of emotion of pride and care that would overwhelm him if he wasn't careful. "A lot of things can make me feel special, Amelia Taylor." Cass chides gently, chucking her softly under the chin with soft blue eyes, enjoying the way her posture relaxed under his touch.  In the back of his mind, he wondered if he was still dreaming, unconscious in the hospital within an elaborate dream in which he was better, his life was better, and Amy was in it. Not even just in it, but a sincere part of his that she wasn't going to back out of, or throw Brooks in his face to give herself distance. "Your recent actions mean a lot, don't get me wrong. In fact, speaking of actions-" he leans forward, golden beard scratching ever so much as he captures her lips in another kiss. The heady knowledge that he can do this - not even just be allowed to do it, but to revel in it, pull her close, have her around - wasn't losing its novelty anytime soon. His full lips learned her mouth one more time, the motion soothing his soul as one big arm pulled her closer to him, unwilling to pull away when Cass remembered he actually had to answer him. "Look, I have to ask - are we actually doing this now?" He asks after a moment, hand stroking through her hair and blue eyes suddenly vulnerable and open darting at hers. They're still close enough that he feels the breaths she takes and the one that he himself is holding. "No more running, right?"

Now that there was no need to ask permission and all the lines have been crossed, Cass seemed to want to take advantage of his ability to keep her close and lay kisses on her mouth more than ever before. Not that there were any complaints on her part, even as she tried to find a steady footing on this freshly frozen lake of theirs and he kept providing her with distractions. Much like Bambi on ice, Amy recognized the need to be careful about handling his heart and her own, watchful of the promises she made, so they didn’t come to bite her in the ass once more. “Making out in the kitchen?” She deadpanned as he pulled away, their mouths not even breaths apart— she couldn’t breathe in without catching his scent, his own breath. Small hands rested on the small area below his collarbone. Despite her attempt at humor, she knew what he was asking and foregone her stand-up comedy ways in favor of genuine honesty. “I don’t want to make promises I might break. I have no immediate plans to run, and I want to see what it is that we have between us. There’ll be bad days when I’ll need my distance, but I’ll be fighting through them differently. Can that,” she hesitated, aware that it was not much that she was offering him, but it was all she had. “Can that be enough for now?”

"Maybe," he admits with a shrug, one hand twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. There's no shame in his gaze or admittance, as he was no longer willing to hold himself back from all the things he wanted to do with her when she was around. They may still be on shaky ground, but Cass was rooted in confidence when it came to his allowances when it came to touching her. The soft brush of skin against skin that occurred when she put her hands on his chest send a small amount of warmth through him, one of his big hands stopping on her waist under his shirt, a thumb brushed at her ribs. Her words speak of the unsurity that they currently shared - wanting, finally willing, to move forward together, but terrified of the realities and vulnerability that it led to. "Yes." Cass's voice rumbles out, sincerity in his tone. Knowing that she's take the fight route when she felt the need for flight, is an assurance for him. "We can take it one step at a time. Together. Just to be clear, though -" he squints baby blue eyes, a grin on his bushy face. "Do I get to call you my girlfriend?"

"Oh, we are definitely doing that. Whenever," she nodded in mock seriousness, amusement lingering in her features in traces. A lot remained unanswered and uncertain, their feet still on shaky ground, but there was no doubt about whether or not she wanted to be doing this: stealing kisses in the morning, relishing in the touches she had denied them both for too long, it felt. Cass clearly shared that sentiment, his hands mapping her back and ribcage, making her squirm and chuckle when his thumb ghosted over a sensitive spot. It always struck her as odd that a woman like herself was still ticklish, even when she was well into her thirties. Somehow, that felt like a remnant of childhood that should have been left behind but it stuck to her. Knowing better than to attract more attention to that quality, she focused on the sincerity and affection in his assurance that drew a minute smile to her lips. "Thank you," she whispered softly, quieting down and holding her breath for whatever clarification he needed. Unsure what she was expecting, but certainly not what he said, a laugh spilled out of her mouth. "Do I get to wear your letterman jacket?"

"I am totally down with you ruining all available surfaces in my house with the memory of your body under mine." Cass responds in fake seriousness, eyebrows drawn comically together in a way that did not match the boyish, self satisfied smile on her face. This was the beginning of something, at the very least, at it meant he would be able to start to learn the little personal things about her, like that she was ticklish around her ribcage area. Her thanks washes over him in a serene sort of way, a balm and a solidification of what exactly they were doing. Whatever it was. At the very least, he was content to stand between her thighs, gorgeous legs bracketing him, and run his hands along the soft skin of her body and smile at her and know that (at least for now) she wasn't running away. A rough shake of his head and a gruff chuckle greet her request, Cass pressing his forehead to hers. "That's some high school shit, Amelia Taylor. But don't tempt me. I'm pretty sure I've got it stuffed somewhere." He pulls back to wink, overdramatic and silly, a happiness he hadn't felt in too long bubbling up inside of him.

“Oh, thank god. I thought you were going to end that with something along the lines of ruining stuff with my butt print,” she couldn’t resist saying when another laugh parted her lips raw from being chewed like a toy. Even now, they seem to be caught on a rollercoaster, shifting between teasing, serious and joking, and somehow it’s the right blend and the key to keeping her in place. “I know,” she admitted when he called her out on it, their foreheads pressed and their lips a few breaths apart— the most distance he’s allowed since planting her on top of the counter. “But if you do have it stuffed somewhere...” she mused, not even sure where she was going with it all. “Nah, it’s fine. We’ll skip the jacket and I’ll let you call me that.” That— his girlfriend, still felt too heavy to roll over tongue. She hasn’t been someone’s girlfriend in a long, long time. Was she ready for this or was this all just an illusion?

"Your ass? Couldn't ruin a damn thing."  One of Cass's big hands slides down to cup of much of the area in question, pairing it with a nuzzle near her ear. "Except, maybe, my sanity. But that's not your fault." Though there was still a bit of a fog around the particularities and rules of this ride they were taking together, the teasing still felt comfortable and familiar. Of course he hadn't actually teased her since that evening in his home, sitting on the kitchen floor less than a foot from where they were now positioned, but it was an easy rhythm to fall into. One that kept the tall muscled blonde steady in their extremely unsure situation. Another laugh falls out at her jab about the varsity jacket, and despite his jokes Cass was secretly glad to not have a reason to drag it out. The version of Cass that had worn that jacket was long gone, hewn and added to until it became the man he was today.  He didn't want a young relationship - he wanted one between two adults, sincere and mature. That is, however, if you ignore Cass's teenage boy playful proclivities, which ran a bit deeper than he liked to admit. "Mmm. Sounds good to me. This is Amelia Taylor, my girlfriend. But you get to call her Amy. Amelia is only for me." He breathes out with a half grin, addressing a fictional person as if he was introducing the woman in his arms to them. "She's beautiful, smart, and somehow is willing to put up with me. It's gotta be my lucky day."

The rollercoaster ride continued, this time taking a swift turn up the lustful ladder when his hand gripped at one of her most favored spots and his breath tickled her ear. Her lips parted to allow for a breathy sigh to leave her mouth, her lashes fluttering to a stop as her lids closed over. “As long as I’m not held responsible for it,” she attempted as her hands slid over the bridge of his shoulders to dip into the vast sea of his broad back. “Even if there’s a sense of pride in my accomplishing of it.” Honesty, that was their new policy, right? Coupled with the already tried and true teasing, there was an unusually comfortable feeling to it, one she might have missed out on had she insisted on being stubborn a little while longer. For years people have tried to help her, save her, but you couldn’t save a woman who didn’t want that for herself. Now that she had found it in herself to forgive what happened and to mourn her losses and move on, perhaps the future would hold more of these moments for her, for them. A girl could hope, at any rate. A slight chuckle and a very distinct roll of her eyes are given to his proclamations. “Feels like too much information to give to someone just meeting me. You don’t wanna overwhelm them, you know?” She asked rhetorically, cocking an eyebrow briefly.

A sluicing warmth follows the path of her hands as Amy draws them over his shoulders and down his back, a motion that Cass heavily enjoys. The flip side of him being able to touch her whenever he wished was that the woman he held possessed the same privilege, and it was one the tall blonde was a big fan  of. "You should be proud," he rumbles, squeezing one more time half because he could and half because he was probably her asses number one fan. "I don't think anyone's affected me the way you have." Smiling cheekily, he dismisses her eyeroll and chuckle, knowing on at least some level that she didn't mind it. A hum of agreement follows her words, coupled with a smoothing of his hands over her back, blue eyes languid and steady on hers. "This is true. Plus, the more I tell them the more they'll want an Amy of their own, and that would just be a cruel and unusual punishment for them, because there's only one. And she's unavailable."

Though she was confident Cass didn't mean to steer her mind to their past issues, it's the place where she landed anyway at the mention of all the ways she affected him. The intimate, familiar moment of teasing, however, was not one she wanted to interrupt with the dark clouds that loomed above her head so she tried her best to keep that train(wreck) of thought to herself. "For better or worse, huh?" She mustered a teasing remark, once again greeting his exaggerated compliments with a roll of hazel eyes and a shake of her head. "Okay, now you're just talking nonsense," she remarked with a scoff and a gentle push of his shoulders so that she could hop off the counter. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving and the breakfast I made is getting cold the longer you talk," she pointed out, glancing over her shoulder as she headed to the counter with two plates filled up with scrambled eggs, bacon, and cherry tomatoes. "Hope you're a fan of all this," she gestured at the plates as she went to the drawer to grab them forks.

He easily moves back when she pushes at his shoulders, pliant and eager to please at her hands. Cass turns, and for a moment folds his arms across his chest, just watching as Amy carries the plates to the table and goes for utensils. This, is what he got to look forward to. A beautiful woman in his shirt, kissing in his kitchen, and breakfast on his plate. A contentedness washed over him as he nods at her words, rounding the counter to take a seat. "Number one fan. Now come sit so I can eat with you." He rumbles with a twinkle in his eye, leaning one arm against the counter as he waited for her return.

[blankdblank]

Sneeze Pt 3

Sneeze Pt 3

…

Tags - 

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17​, @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @abiwim, @allison-rosewood-maximoff

…

Legolas turned with another sigh waving his hand at the first tree to have woken while his bewildered Father stood turning a piece of the shed formerly poisonous bark in his hands turning it to inspect it fully, “Ada, I told you. I was on this tree! Lady Pear landed on it,” his tone revealed his exasperation at having to repeat this yet again only to draw his Father’s eyes for a few moments before they fell to the bark again, “Maybe it was because she wasn’t wearing shoes, I don’t know! The spot we landed at near the bridge is greener too. She visited and now the forest is waking up, how is this a bad thing?!”

Thranduil sighed tossing the bark away looking at his Son, “It, I wouldn’t say it’s a bad thing. Just, how?!” Waving his arms out to his sides before running his fingers through his hair bunching it nearly to a ponytail as he glanced around in a small circle again before huffing and rubbing his forehead approaching one of the trees that had woken and pressed his ear to it while Legolas joined him eyeing him curiously and whispered, “What is it saying?”

Thranduil blinked as he waited for the deep rumble from the tree to pause as he replied, “Good.”

Legolas’ eyebrow rose, “Good? That’s -.”

Thranduil pressed his finger to his lips and motioned for a pencil and paper as he listened, one of the guards beside another tree eagerly pranced over with the supplies in hand and scribbled down the word ‘Good’ on the blank sheet of his little book. Their excited expressions at their King communicating once again with their giant forest grew with each word at least for the first half hour, as the hour ended the King removed his ear from the tree while the others sat cross legged with unamused expressions while the Guard scribbled down the last word sluggishly before the King stepped over and accepted the book with a large grin as he read back, “Good Morning Your Majesty, Slowly we are waking and once again shall guard your Kin through the vast stretches of time. We are honored once again to have been woken by the Tingilinde (Twinkling Star) that had fallen to our branches and graced us with her light.”

His smile grew and he looked up at his Son who was running his fingers across his lips before raising them and asking, “So Lady Pear’s a star now? And she didn’t fall…”

Thranduil shot him a playful glare, “It’s got to be something about her people maybe, or another nickname.” He gently claimed the pencil from the Guard before turning to the tree and started speaking in Treeish for nearly ten minutes before pressing his ear back to the tree and taking notes himself as the group could do nothing but watch and wait.

When the sun had finally set again Legolas stood brushing off his pants and sighed, “We haven’t learned anything! Now they’re just spouting off poetry!”

Thranduil’s expression turned stern, “This will be your responsibility one day! Now they know what happened and they’ve filled us in to what they know. As for the poetry their emotions are growing at their waking and you would do well to indulge them. The last one was quite helpful.”

“Ada, it was about a badger and an eagle gardening.”

“It’s not the words it’s the meaning behind them. I’ve gotten all I need for now.” His hand gently patted the tree beside him and smiled up at the brown trees around him all taking turns on the verses to the latest poem they were creating, each hour had brought their speech louder with their returning strength through the Elves’ trip back to their Kingdom now filled with the echoes of their growing poem as a small group sat at the bridge penning their verses to keep record of the occasion for recitation later.

The Elf King walked through the crowds of his people enjoying their waking forest to return to his room still clutching the pages he’d taken from the Guards book he had returned softly whispering to himself mentally, Tingilinde. Somehow the nickname seemed to fit you perfectly, especially with your Vanyar blood that must have enabled you to heal his forest, Twinkling Star, they are known as the Light Elves, must be one of their abilities. Walking into his private library he returned to his stacks of books he’d drawn out to research what he could on the little bit recorded on them but without any luck on why they would refer to you as a star.

Another sigh later he returned his books and headed to his room to stretch out on his bed again. Leaving it to the fact that he could ask Celeborn when he finally arrived, leading to his head turning as another thrush flew into his room with a progress report saying that Celeborn would be there by sunrise, wishing to drop for a brief rest and to wash up before meeting you at Erebor. Thranduil sat up and walked over to his desk to write out a copy of the details for you as a smile slid onto his face imagining how excited you could be to meet him. Refusing to allow the memory of the tears and broken expression he’d seen in the face of his friend at his loss of you, being one of the many small features he’d found to link the two of you so far.

…

Word lit a flame in the group to scrub the rest of the Royal Wing in case the Elves would wish to stay in the Mountain with you all during the first portion of his stay guessing he would wish to be as close to you as possible. The rest of your night after scrubbing the rooms you spent with Bilbo tending to your budding greenhouse you had both been helping to grow while you tried not to worry about his visit. Eventually you drooped over against one of the walls to be curled in a strong pair of arms and carried off to your bed making sure to gently scrub your hands, feet and knees as they did before tucking you in carefully. The faint sound of birds chirping through the Mountain halls drew a groan from you before your eyes shot open and you sped through the mountain thankful to be the first awake to admire the view from the secret ledge alone.

Stepping into the crisp morning breeze feeling the cool stones beneath your feet as the dawn came shining over the swaying canopy across the plains as a stray leaf on the breeze carried a message to you that another Elf Lord had entered the forest before resting on your shoulder. Collecting the leaf between your fingers you walked to the end of the ledge and sat down stretching your legs over the edge feeling tears rolling down your cheeks leaving frozen trails from the cold air. What could I possibly have to offer him. I barely even know my own race. Twirling the leaf between your fingers as your body drooped forward to rest your elbows on your thighs as you softly whispered to the leaf in old Elvish, “Please rest as long as you need, you’ve had a long journey. There’s plenty of time for us to learn each other after.” Inhaling shakily and gently blowing the leaf back towards the forest watching as it disappeared.

..

Hooves pounded as the Elven Lord urging the steed forward tensed as the growing Mountain he had aimed for had sunk behind the massive forest kingdom between them. Entering the forest he relented to draw back on his reigns to spare his steed a painful crossing through the enchanted forest only to examine the forest reciting one of its new poems once more as he entered between sparse greetings from the healed trees around him. Carefully tracing the path as he listened intently to their new poems about you and freezing at their pause before a lone leaf floated down to land on his now open palm. A deadly silence grew around him and his Guards while he raised the leaf to his ear while a faint smile ghosted across his exhausted expression, carefully he gripped the leaf feeling his tension easing with faint tears sliding down his cheek as the voice echoing that of his Wife’s merely in a somehow gentler tone than he had heard it in before.

Squeezing his thighs his horse moved forward again following the path to the castle gaining an escort from the Guards on patrols that ended with the Elf King standing before the open gates with a restrained smile.

Celeborn’s feet hit the ground and he crossed to the King whose smile grew through bowing his head to his exhausted friend, “Are you hungry?”

Celeborn spun the leaf between his fingers giving a flicker of a smile, “I probably should eat something.”

Thranduil turned and stepped back allowing his friend to join his side, “Any more questions?” His eyes fell to the leaf his friend was clutching as he heard your soft whisper again making his smile grow again as Lord Celeborn asked, “Is she nervous?”

“About as nervous as you are, though she seems willing to learn about you, I would wait on introducing Galadriel though.”

“Why is that?”

“She is not fond of others poking around in her mind without permission.”

Lord Celeborn nodded, “I, was she there, when Mire-…” His voice broke at her name.

Thranduil, “She was, Legolas informed me she has a large scar along her collar bone and back from it.”

Another tear rolled down Celeborn’s face, “I should never have left. I should have been there.”

Thranduil’s hand landed firmly on his shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze, “It seems, even through the pain of it all she’s done incredible things. The Dwarves filled me in on a few stories, she’s shaped their lives and countless others. That is your past, all we can do now is wait and see what she can do at your side.”

Celeborn nodded and locked his eyes with his friend’s giving him a slightly pleading glance as he softly asked, “What does she look like again?”

Thranduil smiled at him, “One of my Kitchen staff is an incredible artist, he got a good look and made some sketches for you. They’re waiting upstairs with the food, and I can fill you in on what the trees told me about her as well.” Celeborn’s flicker of a smile came back as your message played again at his silent plea while following his friend.

Sitting in his chair accepting the warm cup of tea before reaching for the cinnamon raison bread, a treat Mire would always bake that he fell in love with choosing to request it on all of his visits to other Elven realms. Lifting the knife by his small plate to spread a thin layer of boysenberry jam on half of a slice before adding a layer of cream cheese then folding it in half after setting down his knife. Then glancing up at Thranduil as he continued his story about your visit while he slid his pinky finger along the edges and licked the extra spread from it before taking his first bite.

Thranduil, “And then it said ‘We are honored once again to have been woken by the Tingilinde (Twinkling Star) that had fallen to our branches and graced us with her light’, what do you figure that’s supposed to mean?” Taking a bite of his slice covered in raspberry jam.

Celeborn lowered his bread, “You’re sure it said Tingilinde?”

Thranduil’s chewing slowed before promptly swallowing and he said, “Yes, is that something special about her?”

Celeborn, “The Two Trees that lit Valinor, that’s what they called the Vanyar. She must be very powerful to only have been here once and heal the forest. Perhaps when she left Doriath alone she was gifted a stronger portion of their kin’s strengths to keep her safe.”

“You’re thinking she was meant to leave alone then?”

“How else could a twelve year old child pass unseen through all that land with what I can only imagine to be a near impossible to survive from injury. As painful as it is, we were meant to be parted until now.”

“Hopefully soon we could learn why when you each fill in each other’s blank spaces through the past years.” He turned to the side grabbing a thickly bound folder and passed it to Celeborn with a smirk, “The sketches.” Drawing in a shaky breath Celeborn set down the bread onto his plate and wiped his fingers on his napkin before accepting it and staring blankly at it before opening it. The sketch inside making his lip tremble while a tear slid down his cheek through a soft whisper, “She looks just like Mire.” His eyes rose to his friend, “How tall is she?”

Thranduil smirked and stood thinking back and holding his hand at just below his shoulder, “Around here with boots on.”

Celeborn chuckled softly before looking down again and flipping to the next sketch of you smiling at Legolas, “I didn’t think she’d be that short.”

Thranduil chuckled, “It did strike me as a bit odd, though she is a good near head taller than Thorin and the others in their Company.” He set the sketch book down carefully and continued eating to fill his stomach so he could get a quick nap and bathe before heading over for the dinner you agreed to through the traded notes as he ate.

..

After your last message you had to spend nearly ten minutes pacing in your apartment shaking your hands and rolling your shoulders, inhaling and exhaling as slowly as you could in hopes of calming yourself before digging through your bag to pick out an outfit for dinner. Pausing when your fingers brushed a familiar velvety cloth, gently curling your fingers around them you pulled it out carefully, laying the tied wrap on the bed staring at the last dress your Mother had worn to a dinner with King Thingol. Shakily you undid the wrap revealing the yellow layered floor length lace dress with a long silk slip base and a jeweled belt to go under your bust, slowly you stripped and scrubbed before easing the dress on just in time to hear Thorin’s voice coming through the hall outside, “Jaqi, you alright?”

Reaching back to hold your dress in place you replied, “Could you help me?”

Your door opened carefully and he stepped inside giving a soft gasp, “That dress, is breathtaking.”

You smiled at him from under the hair covering your face, “Thank you, it was my Nan’s.”

He stepped closer and moved behind you to help you lift the tricky zipper into place before adding the belt, tying the ribbon backing behind you in an intricate yet easy to remove bow before asking, “Are your shoulders supposed to be bare?”

You nodded laying the end of the long sleeves flat over your palms remembering the sleeves had ended at Mire’s wrists just as the hem was a few inches to long causing you to hold it up as you walked, “Yes.”

You turned and he admired the jeweled belt helping to hold the dress into place as you slid your silver boots over your long silver socks reaching over our knees before you stood again and he eyed your hem before offering his hand, “Let’s see if Dori can manage a quick hem, or at least pinning.” You giggled curling your arm in his, gripping your hem and joining him on the walk to the Ri Brother’s apartment and gave the door a quick knock to be greeted and ushered in after an approving gasp before Thorin said, “We’re having some issues with her hem.”

Dori’s smile grew and he helped you in while Nori went for his kit as they helped you onto the coffee table. All of the Company took turns stealing glimpses of you as they helped to finish the meal. You snapped out of your thoughts as Thorin returned stepping onto the stool beside the table to pull back the sides of your hair back into two neat braids that connected in the back before adding a set of jeweled clasps to hold them in place. Joining them in a diamond shaped braid and left the rest to dangle in a long set of curls down your back leaving your curled side swept bangs in place unwilling to hide the chunk marking your proof of mourning for your Mother.

Dwalin, “You want a necklace to match it?”

“No I’m fine, I already think this might be too much.”

Thorin chuckled softly, “Not even close. You’re meeting with Kings, we have a few circlets to choose from as well.”

You scoffed softly, “I’ve never worn a circlet I don’t plan on starting now.”

Thorin smirked, “Well you’ll have to for my coronation.”

Dwalin, “Are you sure you want to wear the ring tonight? Seems a bit stressful for you already.”

You nodded, “It shouts when I take it off, there’s not enough gold to seal around it in this Mountain to silence it.”

Dori, “Then we should have a code word for if it gets too stressful for you.”

Dwalin nodded as Fili said, “Ya, and we can cause a diversion to give you a few minutes of peace.”

You giggled again and glanced down catching Dori rise to his feet with a smile, “All done Dear.”

Accepting Thorin and Dwalin’s hands as they helped you down before Dwalin gave you a quick twirl chuckling as it swayed and settled around you again before they turned to walk you to the front gate when you heard hooves leaving the forest.

.

A gentle hand from Balin rubbed long your arm as Dwalin did the same to the other arm to comfort you as Bifur and Bofur opened the gates for the Elves. Drawing in a steady breath you straightened up again forcing a soft smile onto your face as The Elven Lords and Prince Legolas walked through the gates eyeing you carefully with approving smiles as Lord Celeborn froze when he spotted you, only moving again at Thranduil’s hand pushing him forward.

Thranduil was donning a shimmering deep silver robe along with his berry coated tall crown while Legolas bore a pale blue shirt, silver pants and boots. Celeborn normally wore simple white robes but chose his white embroidered robe with silver pants under along with a silver diamond shaped woven metal band around his neck and a larger version around his waist similar to yours choosing to skip on his circlet as well. Stepping forward you forced out another quick smile sensing the Elf King’s body tensing as if he was holding himself back from something while he eyed you carefully as inconspicuously as he could. Locking your eyes on Celeborn as he paused a few feet from you giving you a near pleading glance as the Dwarves excused themselves and led the rest of the Elves up to the dinner to give you a few minutes alone.

Switching to Elvish after drawing in a shaky breath, “I’m not exactly certain what I’m supposed to call you, or rather what you’d like me to call you.”

His voice came out in a soft tremble, “Call me what makes you comfortable.” He drew in a shaky breath, “How exactly is your first name pronounced?”

“Ja-key-era, Nan said it meant Blooming Jewel in her Kin’s language.”

Celeborn smiled at you, “It’s beautiful.”

“I like your new name too, Silver Tree, fits your crest.” Both of your eyes fell to your hands folded before you running your fingers over the stone on your ring, then you looked back up at him, “Do I have to give her ring back to you?”

His head shook slightly, wiggling his fingers slightly wishing to just reach out to you, “No, of course not. It’s yours, unless there’s something you wish for me to have her belongings are yours.” His eyes slid over you again, “You look just like her, only a bit shorter.” Before his eyes traced along your scar.

Stepping closer to him he drew in a shaky breath and swallowed dryly watching as you stopped right before him saying, “For a better look, if you want.” His hand rose and timidly touched the end of the scar near your shoulder, “It wasn’t this big back then it stretched as I grew, barely half of what it is now.” When his fingers reached the other end of the scar he timidly drew his fingers back and released another shaky breath before trailing them over it as well. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Your eyes met his when you turned again as you gave him another nervous smile, “Could I..”

His eyes lit up offering you an anxious smile, “Could you what?”

Drawing in a quick breath you took another step and curled your arms around his middle feeling him freeze for a moment before tightly curling around you resting his cheek on the top of your head and closing his eyes as his body relaxed more when your grip tightened. “I know Elves don’t normally hug, but-.”

“You can hug me any time, in front of anyone.” He exhaled and locked his eyes with yours after you’d slowly pulled yourself back already feeling an ache for another hug from him again as his hands rested on your shoulders gently as he gave you a soft smile. “I mean it.”

“I’m going to do my best to be a Daughter you’d be proud of.”

His smile grew, “I’m already so proud of you. Be who you are, don’t change a thing.”

You nodded slightly unbelieving he would truly accept you, “Did King Thranduil tell you about me being taken in by Dwarves?”

He nodded, “Yes. And I would like to hear more about it from you when you’re more comfortable with it.”

“Do you like Dwarves?”

He exhaled slowly, “I haven’t had much time getting to know any. I see this group is quite close to you.”

“The Durin line marked me as part of their family. They’re very protective. Make sure I’m treated properly.”

He smiled again, “Good, I hope I can get to know them better as well.”

“They’re anxious to learn about you as well. They were so worried you would swoop in and steal me away.”

“I do hope you would consider a visit sometime, but I think for now going slow would be best, I can stay in Greenwood for months my people can easily tend to themselves.”

“Thorin also offered you could stay here for a visit if you like, the apartment I’ve been granted has some extra rooms. Though I’m not sure if the bed would be long enough for you.”

His smile grew, “I could sleep sideways with my legs tucked up if I had to.”

You softly giggled and smiled at him again, “We should probably go up.” Taking a step back and turning before leading him upstairs feeling him smiling down at you through the short walk. His eyes met yours when you glanced up and asked, “It’s alright if I call you Celeborn?”

He nodded again, “Of course. Would you mind if I called you Pear like your Naneth did?”

You smiled at him, “If you’d like to.”

.

Entering the room you felt a searing pair of pale blue eyes land back on you stealing another chance to admire your appearance while everyone took their seats. The entire meal Celeborn’s smile grew as you shared stories and he observed each of your quirks that had come from your Mother easing the crack in his heart at having a piece of her with him again. While the night stretched on the Elves joined you in your sitting room in your apartment to continue your story sharing until breakfast the next morning. 

After changing into pants and a long green shirt and black vest over your boots you all joined in the preparations and shared the meal before Thranduil and Legolas had to return promising to return with their belongings and Celeborn’s to accept Thorin’s reassurance they could stay in Erebor as well for a short visit, after which you agreed to staying in Greenwood for a lengthy visit of your own.

Pt 4

[ghoulluck]

When Indy woke up, everything hurt. His neck had a creak that paired up too well with a creak in his lower back. Ryan was using his arm as a pillow. She was asleep on her side with her arm around a sleek doberman who’s head rested on the teenager’s neck as he was nestled perfectly against her. 

Indy shifted some and he felt something on his neck. Loud purring started in his ear. His sleep logged mind couldn’t identify it until Priscilla nestled up behind his ear. It was a soft white cat. He pet it weakly as he put his nose in ryan’s hair. She needed a fucking hair cut. He pet her boney back a minute and began to slide out of bed. 

There was a petite woman in the kitchen pouring herself a cup of coffee. He tried to remember her name as he rubbed his neck. “Good morning, indy,” she greeted in a sort of cheery tone. In the hospital she had looked different, sort of sallow, tired and had an angry glint in her eyes that highlighted the almost invisible scars that ran across her skin. Indy wasn’t usually unnerved, or anything like that, but particularly Eddie sent off alarms in his brain that said ‘this bitch will poison you’. 

He looked at her cup of coffee and she offered it to him. It was black. “Ah, no, I can get my own,” he told her. “Suit yourself,” she stated with a twist upwards of her lips, “there’s coffee mate in the fridge. Edmund went food shopping this morning, so if you want to make Ryan breakfast, feel free to. I’ll be taking care of me and julien, we have special diets.” 

She stepped around him to get a cup down from the cabinet. 

“Kosher, right?” 

He had seen the keen observance of packaging when he had taken julien to a seven eleven once to get Ryan some sour punch straws. Eddie tilted her head some, wide doe eyes narrowed some, “how observant.” She returned to a more pleasant demeanor with a smile as she set his cup on the counter. With that, she left him in peace. 

Indy poured himself a cup of coffee and opened the fridge to take a look inside. It was so full of food he couldn’t see over half the groceries. “Coffee mate in the door.” Julien’s soft colicky voice made him look over the refrigerator door at her. Her hair was damp and she had blood on her night gown’s collar. she smelled like cold sweat and he closed the door. 

“You okay?” 

Sometimes he forgot he wasn’t the only one who stressed out over ryan. She had that funny blank expression he had seen last night. In the weak morning light, he could make out the raw road rash on the side of her face he hadnt seen before. she walked away without another word. 

indy chewed his cheek as he opened the fridge again to look for the creamer. On the lower right side of the door were two gallons of coffee creamer. Hazelnut and french vanilla. He poured a generous amount of french vanilla in his cup. Indy admittedly liked frilly coffee. He was starting to crave a cigarette. He filled the rest of his cup with coffee and made his way back to ryan’s room. 

Julien was where he had been laying, she had an arm under ryan’s head and her head over the goth’s. Her hair covered ryan from sight. He almost missed the fact that they were holding hands. He sat on the edge of the bed to rub ryan’s side. The dog and the cat were on the floor, nose to nose seemingly discussing private animal business. He could see the cat was agitated and the dog too. They were probably as stressed out as their owner. 

Indy took a sip from his cup with a little groan of satsifaction. Good coffee. It was that nice expensive stuff too. He rummaged through his bag for his smokes and opened up a window when he stepped away from the bed. He sat outside on the ground. Smoking quietly and drinking is coffee. 

He felt a paw on his head and looked up at the fluffy white cat. She meowed softly at him. "Go back inside," he told her as he continued to smoke. The cat lifted her fluffy white tail, obviously put out and she jumped back down into the house. Adolf's head was hanging out, watching the clouds pass by with bleary eyes and a sad puppy face. "What do you want?" Indy asked as he threw his finished cigarette over the fence. Adolf gave a soft whine and nosed the man. Stressed probably didn't cover it. He scratched the dog's chin and climbed back through the window. 

Julien was gone again and Ryan was still asleep. He checked his watch. It was seven in the morning. He put his empty coffee cup on the dresser before decidedly going for another cup. When he came back, smoke was filtering through the open window. It smelled strongly and he looked out to see julien. She was showered, wearing one of his shirts and pyjama pants that didn't look like they belonged to her or ryan. Probably her dad's. She was smoking out of a glittery pipe. 

He took his cup of coffee and another smoke to join her. With her hair pulled into a bun on her head, he could see her scars more clearly then he had before. He could see she had a little bald spot either from stress or pulling it out herself right at the nape of her neck. Her nails were bitten down to bloody little stumps. He didn't know what had happened to her and when he had asked ryan, she could only say she had never asked, but there were rumors. 

He didn't see any hardness in julien. He didn't see what Eddie and e had in their eyes in her's. He imagined julien and Ryan probably had a lot more in common then he wanted to admit. Her knees were drawing up like they had the first time he met her and most of the times after. He touched her back hesitantly and she flinched away out of the range of his arm. 

Indy smoked his cigarette and finished his second cup of coffee. It didn't feel right to leave her alone, but he did. He went inside to lay behind his sister, rubbing her back until it was about mid noon. 

Indy had started meal prepping. He put a cigarette behind his ear as he pulled out pans from the pantry to study which were the best to use. Ryan had woken up and looked pretty disappointed there wasn’t food already made. He heard voices and he listened. It wasn’t eddie’s articulate and meticulate voice or julien’s soft colicky voice. He put a pan on the kitchen when the voice clicked. It was Edmund. normally he wasn’t so nosy, but he had little idea of who this man was aside from knowing the guy probably had more in common with a saint then he did with Ted bundy despite having seen the kind of damage the man could do. 

He eyed the living room through the crack in the door. Edmund was running his hands through julien’s hair as she sat in his lap. Eddie was sitting beside him in the lazy boy and he had his arm around her. Both of them looked absolutely disarmed. Julien was crying and Edmund was consoling her as she filled a pill box with new medications from a white Walgreens bag on eddie’s lap. Indy shut the door all the way quietly to let the family have their moment. 

He took out a few things, ground beef and some fancy ass artisian bread. He wondered exactly how much money the perita family had. His stomach was churning and he went back to ryan’s room. She was laying in bed watching a TV Edmund had brought in from his room as a temporary holder. It was surprisingly old, nineteen years are the very least and it’s picture resolution was kinda bad.

 Ryan was laying on her side at the foot of the bed. Adolf had his head on her hip and was watching TV too. His ears perked happily. “ey what does yer–” honestly he knew they had to be more then friends, “w-what does barbie like?” He licked his lips at the awkward phrasing. Ryan rolled her head towards him, “soft stuff.” 

“Ry, what the fuck does that even mean?” 

The goth exhaled, she didn’t feel like using so much energy to think. “Like stuff you don’t have to chew hard or something,” she explained and he looked at his watch. She was getting a little lucid which probably meant she needed to take some more medication. He’d get her antibiotics into her when she had some real food in her or else she’d get the shakes. He came to sit by her side and rubbed her back, “stuff she don’t have to chew hard?” Sounded like an old person to him. 

Ryan turned over and the dog adjusted to keep his head on her, he seemed aware of where she was hurt. “Does she like cake or something like that?” Ryan scrubbed her face as she tried to think and couldn’t recall, “why are you trying to make me think– I don’t know.” 

“Awright whiny. You want coffee while you wait?” 

“Mmm,” the teenager hummed, “coffee.” He chuckled, “they got these like crazy gallons of that coffee creamer shit.” 

“Oh god, I know. It’s so good.” he chuckled a little as he ruffled her hair, “so how’d you fall in with Blondie anyways?” Ryan adjusted to put her head in his lap as she tried to recall, “I think she gave me a concussion.” 

“How the fuck did that happen?” 

“She skateboards at that old water park you use to take me to.” 

“Still doesn’t answer my question smart ass.” Ryan groaned and Adolf suddenly stood to get her a pillow. The goth put it over her face and she groaned even more loudly. Indy laughed, “awright, I rest my case. Grub’s up in thirty.” 

“Make her your banana pudding. No wafers.” 

That answered his first question at the very least.  

When he returned to the kitchen, Priscilla was on the counter. He gave her a poignant look to move. the cat gave a delicate meow and she looked back over the counter. She looked back at him. “Move.” She put herself in the sink. he felt like he was dealing with precioso’s smart ass. “Fine. Stay out of of the prep area.” He put two hands on the counter to claim the area. She looked at it disinterestedly. 

He washed his hands, then the counter. Indy didn’t want to add food poisoning on top of ryan’s preexisting condition. He formed a few patties from the ground beef. The cat had great interest and her little meows her tiny pieces of beef, but she seemed more interested in the tomatoes then anything else. The cat was just as weird as her owner. 

Getting to cook for indy was surprisingly stress relieving, particularly when he knew it would feed someone he cared for. 

Adolf had come to check out the smells and Priscilla knocked the little pieces of beef indy had given her on the ground for him. The dog ate this eagerly and his little stubby tail wagged. “Clean up duty?” He asked. the dog’s paws clicked the fancy tile floor eagerly. That was a yes.

[drreporting]

Blue

I can’t remember what you call it...Smut Sunday?

Happy Smut Sunday.

Set very early on in my Rymelia/Omelia world, perhaps a couple weeks after “Slow Down”.

Owen sighed in content as the hot water drenched his entire being. He hadn’t showered with warm water in four days, with the trailer’s water heater dying on him and all. Not to mention the cold Seattle weather that didn’t make it any easier. Today had been the last straw, with the temperature reaching almost 10 degrees Celsius.

“Are you gonna be in there any longer?” a familiar female voice called from the other side of the shower curtain. This was the male’s shower room, right?

Opening the curtain a little and sticking his head through, Owen was surprised to see Amelia on the other side, duffel bag and towel in hand. “Uh, I think you’re in the wrong shower room.”

“There’s no warm water in the female shower room,” she reasoned, “I’m not gonna bathe in cold water, in an air conditioned facility, on an especially cold day.”

“Well, I’ve got about ten more minutes, twenty if I wash my hair,” Owen estimated, “Unless you’d like to join me in here.” There was a mischievous smile on his face.

“Seriously?” Amelia asked, an amused smile on her face. “I can see it now; chief of surgery caught showering with an attending.”

“You’re the chief of neurosurgery,” he pointed out.

“Not unless Derek leaves,” she reminded him.

“I’m only trying to provide the most time conservative solution.” Owen shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to look innocent.

“Sure you are.” She shook her head, setting her stuff down.

“So you’re coming in?” Owen sought to confirm.

“If I come in there, your 20 minute shower will turn into a 1 hour shower,” she said.

“Why are you always under the assumption that we’re going to have sex?” Owen asked, a cheesy grin on his face now.

“Because it’s happened before?” she exclaimed, “The on-call room, your trailer, your office?”

“Hmm, I think the water is getting cooler,” he taunted.

“Owen!”

“Okay, fine!” he laughed, “I promise I won’t try to have sex with you if you come in here.”

“Thank you,” she sighed.

“Unless you want to.” Her eyes bore angrily into his as she undressed, making him smile even wider. He was enjoying making her uncomfortable.

“Just move over,” she grumbled, pushing Owen out of the stream of water. She sighed happily when she felt the warm water touch her skin, and all thoughts about anything else in the world disappeared. That is, until she felt his chest press against her back.

“I need water to get clean too,” he said. She could feel every crevice of his body touching her back and her cheeks flushed at the thought of him standing naked behind her like that. But she was determined to be unfazed by his presence, even if she could feel his lower regions against her butt.

“What are you doing?” she accused, her heart racing wildly in her chest. She watched as his hand reached over her right shoulder to grab the bath sponge and bar of soap resting on the stand in front of them, next to his shampoo.

“I need my sponge and soap to get clean,” he whispered in her ear. He was teasing her, spitefully.

“I wonder what people will think if they find out the chief bathes with a hot pink bath sponge,” Amelia pondered, eyeing the sponge in his hand.

“They’ll think ‘how does she know that?’” Owen retorted, “’Does she bathe with him in the men’s shower room?’”

“Or maybe she just saw it fall out of his bag one morning,” she quipped.

“Or maybe,” he said, bringing the lathered sponge to her navel, “She let the chief bathe her with it one morning.” He slowly rubbed the sponge up her stomach, to the middle of her chest.

“Owen…” she warned.

“This isn’t sex,” he reminded her, running the sponge over one breast before running it over the other.

“How is this…?”

“Because this is all I’m doing…” he said, bringing the sponger over her shoulder and down her back, towards her butt, “…bathing you.” He continued like that until her entire body was lathered in soap, down to her legs. Amelia turned around and took the sponge from him, passing it over his chest and down his body, making sure to pass directly over his member, before coming back up the same way. Owen simply watched with an amused smile on his face as she gave him a taste of his own medicine. Once he was fully lathered, however, Amelia went one step further by taking his shampoo and squeezing a handful of it in his hair. She let her fingers softly run through his golden locks, occasionally tugging on his hair in the way she’d recently learned he liked. She smiled triumphantly when his eyes closed in pleasure; she was beating him at his own game.

Before she could go any further, Owen pulled his head back and out of her grasp, thwarting her plans. “That was sexual harassment and you know it.”

“And bathing me wasn’t?” she replied, stepping into the stream of water to rinse off the soap.

“No, it wasn’t,” he chuckled, stepping under the water with her too, “This is sexual harassment.” His hands snaked around her lower back and moved to cup her butt, squeezing eagerly at it.

Amelia yelped in surprise and pushed on his chest, not expecting him to do that. Owen simply grinned in response, that cheeky, know-it-all grin he did when he knew that he’d gotten the response he wanted. “You are a stupid, manipulative bastard.”

“Say more,” Owen encouraged her, backing her against the wall, “I like it when you talk dirty.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I got into this shower with you.”

“Because you like me,” he answered for her, lowering his face close enough to hers that their noses were mere centimetres from touching.

“I don’t like you,” she argued, her eyes darting to his lips and contradicting her entire previous statement.

“So then why did you come in here?” he asked, his fingertips running up her back then down it, “Why did you come into my office, my trailer, and that on call room?”

“Unlike you,” Amelia punctuated, trying to look anywhere but at him, “I can have sex and not form emotions. Unlike you, I can bathe with a boy and not try anything.” The fact that he was staring intently at her lips didn’t help with her efforts to ignore his advances.

“A boy?” he chuckled, slowly kneeling down, “So I’m a boy now?” Before she could formulate an answer, she felt his tongue lick the inside of her upper thigh.

“Yes, because this is exactly what a boy would do,” she managed to say. Her hands laced into his hair and pulled on it when she felt his tongue venture further up her leg. He made a trail upwards, circling a few time around her navel before going up her chest and to the bottom of her chin.

“That was a form of sex, you know,” she quipped when he stood back up.

“I didn’t hear any complaints,” he answered, dotting wet kisses all over her neck, under her chin and behind her ear. His hands returned to her lower back and pulled her close enough that his lips met with hers. She could definitely feel him poking against her stomach as he sucked on her bottom lip, but she was slowly losing her will.

“Whatever happened to your promise of no sex or sexual harassment?” she inquired, biting the inside of her cheek to refrain from vocalising her pleasure at him nibbling on her ear lobe.

“I don’t recall promising no sexual harassment,” he breathed in her ear, “But if you’re feeling harassed, I’ll stop.” Although he said he’d stop, he made no motion to do so. Instead, he turned her around and began placing kisses down her back, knowing they would tickle her.

“Stop!” she squealed, trying to put her hands behind her to push him away.

“Okay, okay!” he laughed, holding his hands up and stepping away, “I’m done for real this time.”

“You are the devil,” she grumbled when she turned around. The smug grin on his face made her smile and shake her head, although she wanted to remain stern.

“Does this mean we’re going to have sex now?” he asked, desperately needing a release after all that foreplay.

“Gosh, look at the time!” Amelia exclaimed, staring at the invisible watch on her hand, “I’m going to be late for rounds if I don’t leave right now!”

Owen’s grin faltered for a moment. “Wait, what?”

“I’d hate to make a bad impression on my colleagues by being late, if I’m going to eventually take Derek’s job,” she claimed, already stepping out of the shower and taking her towel. He turned off the water and followed her out, wrapping his towel around his waist.

“I went down on you,” he reminded her. Already half-dressed, she simply shrugged her shoulders and watched as he tried to manoeuvre his hard-on into his pair of boxers and then his scrub pants, laughing boisterously when it stuck horizontally out at her despite the layers of clothing which he hoped would’ve kept it vertical. “This is not funny.”

“This is very funny,” she corrected him. “You look like you overdosed on Viagra.”

Owen’s face turned red with embarrassment. “And I’m the devil?”

“Good luck with your blue balls,” she told him, gathering her stuff and leaving quickly before he could throw profanities at her. After a couple minutes of huffing, puffing and cursing, Owen eventually managed to leave the bathroom, covering what was left of his erection with his lab coat.

[yueqqi-main]

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