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harrywritingsbyme · 3 years

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Resolutions

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: So this was going to be the second theme/element to my New Years fic a couple weeks ago!! And I just wanted to write some filth tonight…it’s crazy hot and just filthy!! Anddd I’m adding this one to A Series of Firsts!! Enjoy🙃

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Harry wasn’t afraid to test the limits and explore when it came to pleasure. He wanted to learn about and explore the different parts of his pleasure so that he could really know what made him feel good and what would give him that euphoric high he craved when it came to his releases. He was always willing to try something in the bedroom (or in the car or bathroom or backyard...you and Harry went at it all over the place), even if it was just once. That is, anything that didn’t involve sharing; he was a bit selfish when it came to having you. Which speaking of you, Harry consider himself to be the luckiest man in the world. Not only were you the sweetest person he’d ever come across, you were also a minx that could to the smallest thing ever and get him riled up for days. You also had this innocence that captivated and drew him to you.

Since Harry was a bit older and you were pretty inexperienced in the bedroom, Harry assumed the role of teacher and guided you through your own pleasure and helped you find the things you loved and didn’t love. And in teaching and making you feel amazing, Harry’s pleasure reached new levels. Despite the fact that you followed his lead, you were able to transcend all of his expectations and ideas when it came to you pleasuring him. You were able to give him the euphoric high he loved, and in turn, make him crave you and that high even more. He felt incredibly lucky to have such a pretty little girlfriend who worked wonders when it came to pleasuring him.

Now in you and Harry’s time together, you guys’ sex life was nothing short of eclectic and beyond fun and exciting . After the first six months of just getting to know each other and growing closer, eventually breaking the ice when it came to intimacy, you and Harry charged on full speed ahead. Things got rougher, which you quite enjoyed, and things also got more interesting. But even with exploring and having a very active sex life, there were still things that were just waiting to be explored by you and Harry. And there were still so many more things for Harry to teach you. No matter how good you sucked his cock or rode him, Harry would always be your teacher. He’d always be the one guiding you through your own and his pleasure.

With that being said, Harry decided to sit down with you and create a set of New Years resolutions or goals for the bedroom. While he wasn’t afraid to try things, you were still learning and felt the exact same way. You wanted to explore and feel good and pleasure Harry even more. So when Harry brought up the idea of creating a list of things to try out in the bedroom in the new year, you were completely on board. The both of you were able to come up with a list of things that you two wanted to try out together. And by the end of it all, there was a very healthy amount of things on the list for the two of you to cross off in the new year. The two of you were really excited to try out everything on your lists, so excited that the two of you couldn’t help but push the lists aside and go at it right then and there.

And when the new year came around, you and Harry didn’t waste any time diving right into the list. To start off, the two of you ordered two of the toys that were on you guys’ list. There was so much excitement on you and Harry’s end and neither of you could wait until they arrived in the mail so that the two of you could jump right into using them. But since there would be a little wait for the toys, the two of you moved on to trying one of the new positions on the list. And thanks to Harry, this week the two of you would be on to another one. After a long day of work, you and Harry loved winding down in and around each other. After dinner and good conversation, the two of you whisked yourselves away to the bedroom to take care of the final “step” of you guys’ mission to wind down.

The two of you were quick to lock your lips and fully undress each other. You were ripping each other’s clothes off while keeping your lips moving, the both of you desperate to pleasure one another and feel good. Again, you and Harry were constantly craving that euphoric high that came along with pleasuring each other. And this time was no different. Once the two of you were completely undressed, you made it to the bed where you’d be spending the rest of your night together. You and Harry were so wrapped up in each other, completely engulfed in how amazing the pleasure felt. Harry completely ravished you, taking you in so many positions, and changing the speed of his hips pushing his cock into you. One minuet he was quickly slamming himself into you and the next he was giving you slow but incredibly deep thrusts. He managed to make your head spin in the most amazing way possible.

The way he crammed himself into you over and over again as he groaned into your mouth, above, or behind you was beyond incredible. He even wrapped a hand around your throat, making you work for every breath you took was astonishing. And when he didn’t, you were letting out strings of moans and whines from the pleasure you were receiving. You were also clawing at the sheets when you couldn’t dig your nails into his biceps or back. While you were falling apart over how full he made you feel, how deep he was pushing himself into you, and how he was taking you, Harry was obsessed with how amazing your cunt felt against his throbbing cock. He said this in the beginning and he vowed to keep saying it for as long as he possibly could, Harry was certain that your pussy was made for him. As cliche as it may have sounded, he was confident that your walls were designed just for him. He never failed to be in awe at how you engulfed his cock and took every pounding that came your way. On top of that, your walls were always warm and spongey and just perfect for his cock. It didn’t matter if he was pushing a finger or two into you, his tongue, or his entire cock, you never failed to be absolutely amazing to Harry. And because of your ability to never fail him, Harry made sure to give it all to you. Anything you wanted, he gave and let you have.

In this first round alone, he took you in three different positions. You two started off with you on top of him, riding him and essentially tiring yourself out on his cock. After feverishly moving yourself on top of him and riling him up even more at how desperate and cute you were bouncing your little cunt on his cock, Harry was quick to pretty much toss you off of him and flip you into the position he wanted you in which was on your front where he pinned you down by your hips and just pumped his cock into you. As he did this you could hear his skin slapping against yours and you could hear his grunts and moans as he continued on. Eventually, after a while of full on mounting you from behind, Harry decided to flip you onto your back so that as he continued to take you and just destroy the area between your legs he watched you fall apart. And he figured by the way you were whining about how tingly and warm your body was feeling that you were getting closer and closer to your first release of the night. And he too could feel himself getting closer to the tipping point of his first release of the night as well. He could feel his body becoming a bit shakier and a warmth spreading through him as well. As he pistoned himself into you, Harry Had his hands firmly wrapped around your calves, pushing your legs apart and up to continue on. When he didn’t have a sturdy grip on your throat, Harry was pushing your legs up to keep your entrance easily accessible to him. At one point, he had his arms wrapped around your legs, hugging them to his chest as he fucked into you. He’d even push up towards your chest a bit so that he could hear you whine a little louder.

Everything, whether it was Harry’s filthy words to you or your moans or Harry’s thrusts or your movements against him, all contributed to the mountain of pleasure that had formed and was ready to explode inside of you both. It had been growing and growing all the way up to this moment. After reaching the very edge, your legs were trembling and Harry had laid himself on top of you, mouthing at the sensitive area of your neck as your clawed at and dug the heels of your feet into his back. The two of you were dying to just let go and experience that tidal wave and euphoric high that came from letting go. And after holding it all the way down to the last second, the two of you finally let go. It was like a bubble of euphoria bursted and showered you two with the high that was craved. The two of you too drained in that moment to even move a muscle as you continued to enjoy the intense shocks and aftershocks of your releases.

Now this is where the next part of you guys’ list of bedroom New Years resolutions came into play. After about fifteen minuets of laying there trying to gain back some feeling in your bodies, Harry’s mind began to wander over to that one position he’d been dying to try. To not over complicate it, Harry wanted to sit on your face. The same way you rode his face and brought your cunt to his mouth, Harry wanted to do the same thing and bring his cock up to your mouth. He loved having your mouth on him and he knew that you could really work your mouth on his cock, his balls, and his tight entrance. He couldn’t take his mind off of doing this with you. He loved it so much that his cock began to harden inside of you, causing you to begin to stir a bit below him. After a few more minuets, finally regaining most of his feeling, Harry pulls himself from on top of you and pulls your hips up so that your lower half would be resting in his lap so that you could keep his cock inside.

“Can I have your mouth this time daddy?” You mumble sweetly, feeling your clit beginning to buzz again.

“Want daddy’s mouth on your pretty little peach baby?” He replies, resting a hand on your lower stomach where he’d pumped all of his cum beforehand.

“Mhm, s’so good.” You moan happily.

“Actually, daddy had another idea sweet girl.” He begins, bringing his hands to your thighs to give the flesh in the area a good squeeze.

“What is it?” You ask confusedly, opening your eyes to look up at him.

“Well I was thinking that we could knock another one of those resolutions we made off our list.” He replies vaguely, digging his fingers into your sensitive thighs.

“Which one is it daddy?” You press on, wanting to know what you were going to do next.

“It’s one of the new positions we wanted to try.” He proposes. “And don’t worry sweets, you don’t have to do any work.” He quickly adds in, knowing how tired your mind and body were right now.

“That sounds like fun, what’s the position?” You ask.

“I wanna sit on your face.” He replies bluntly, causing your eyes to widen.

“Really?” You ask softly, wanting to make sure you heard him correctly.

“Mhm. Wanna do it?” He asks excitedly, hoping that you’d say yes.

“I’d love to do it daddy.” You reply, mirroring his excitement. You loved when he fucked your face and when you were able to lick around and play with him down there so it was like the best of both worlds. You’d never tried it before but you were incredibly excited to.

As soon as you agree, Harry leans down to press a couple of quick and giddy kisses to your lips before slowly pulling himself back and out of your heavily cum stained walls. He then moves out from between your legs, inching up your body a bit before straddling your body and moving his way up to your face. As he does, you watch his cock twitch in excitement. Seeing this sent a shock right to your center, and made you want to just wrap your hand around him and take him into your mouth. So you did. When he was really close to your face, you wrapped your hand around his shaft and lifted your head a little to take the incredibly swollen head of his cock into your mouth and you began sucking on him, causing Harry to immediately stop in his tracks and enjoy this pleasure from you. Figuring that you’d essentially be a bit powerless once he’s fully on top you, you decided to take a little control in this moment and work a little bit of your magic. When it came to your mouth and and hands, you knew how to work him. You twisted your hand perfectly around his shaft and tightened it perfectly and tugged so well as you sucked on his head and pushed the tip of your tongue down against his slit. After giving him a good suck and tug, you let go of Harry’s cock, allowing him to move the rest of the way up.

“I can tell someone’s excited.” He chuckles, gaining a little hum yes from you in response. Since you weren’t close to the headboard, Harry was able to really ride your face and have control over the entire situation. “You ready doll?” He asks once he’s positioned on top of your face, wanting to make sure you were ready for him.

“Yes daddy.” You reply sweetly, so ready to do this with him.

“Good girl.” He breathes out as he spreads his thighs over your face and sinks down onto your open mouth. As he does this, he watches as you dart your tongue out and let his large cock glide against your tongue and down into your warm and wet mouth. “Fuck!” He groans, tightly gripping onto the sheets below him as he continues to cram himself into your mouth. He was so big that in no time you were gagging around him and reaching your arms up to claw at his hip a bit. “It’s okay baby, you can take it.” He moans, circling his hips around a bit to move his cock inside your mouth and throat. The familiar feeling of your throat contracting against his cock would never get old to Harry. He then lifts his cock up a bit so that you can breathe and he can start fucking your face. He begins to push himself back and forth into your mouth every once grinding down a bit further so that he should push into your throat a bit.

As he fucks his cock down into you, you’re fully moaning and gagging around him, squeezing at his ass and balls as he stuffed and fucked your mouth. You could hear his moans and pants above you telling you how much of a good girl you are and how perfect your mouth is for him. You loved the way he was fucking down into you the same way he would if he was fucking you between your legs. Which speaking of between your legs, it was becoming harder and harder to hold Harry’s cum inside of you because of how turned on you were by him fucking your face. After thrusting into your mouth for a while longer and letting you slobber all over him for a bit, Harry sits back up from his hunched over position and pulls his cock from your mouth. As he empties your mouth, he can see the strings of your spit clinging to his cock and to your wet lips.

“You did such a good job with m’cock that I just know you’re going to do even better with my ass.” He breathes down in your direction, tugging at his glistening shaft that was fully coated with your spit. “Right doll?”

“Yes daddy.” You smile up at him with watery eyes. You were beyond ready to suck on his balls and eat his ass until he came. Giving you a quick wink in response, Harry then moves himself up your face, keeping his eyes trained down to try and see where he was, making sure that his ass was right above your mouth.

“Now I want you to spread daddy apart.” He instructs, waiting for you to follow this instruction before going any further. “Now I want you to eat my ass real good baby, I know you can do it.” He says when he feels you pulling his ass apart. And without saying anything more, Harry sinks down onto your mouth.

You were all ready for him too. Not only did you spread him out nice and wide, you also stuck your tongue out so that once he sank down onto your mouth, you’d be able to start licking into him right away. And that’s exactly what you did. You wasted no time licking into him and moving your tongue around as Harry sank down onto your wet muscle. Your tongue was amazingly lapping up and down the expanse of his ass, at moments stopping to just to lick and prod at his puckered hole. As you continued licking into him, Harry was heavily breathing and moaning above you. There was no doubt in his mind that your tongue would be nothing short of amazing. But again, you transcended all expectation and made him feel even more incredible. So incredible that he began grinding down onto your tongue.

“Such a good little slut, letting daddy use her face to make himself cum.” He pants, pushing himself back and forth against your tongue, pushing down a bit harder at times to feel your tongue glide against his puckered hole a bit harder. As he moves against you, Harry has a hand wrapped around his cock, tugging at his rock hard shaft and thumbing at his once again, throbbing head. Your tongue buried in his ass combined with the feeling of his hand tugging at his cock created a feeling that was indescribable. Harry was feeling so good that he began to bounce on your tongue. When you realized what he was doing, you pushed your tongue up and he began moving himself up and down on you, continuing to mess around with his cock. But eventually that stops. Ultimately, Harry lets go of his cock and brings his hands behind him so that he could grip onto your chest for leverage and just ride your face.

As he continues to alternate between bouncing and grinding on your tongue, Harry’s head is completely thrown back, heavy pants and groans and moans tumble out of his mouth, a veil of sweat begins to form on his chest that highlights all of his tattoos and muscles, and his cock just bounces and twitches in the air with his movements. It was a sight you desperately wished to see. You were absolutely going crazy below him. The way he was using your face to get himself off was undeniably and unbelievably hot. You couldn’t stop yourself from getting wetter and wetter. The area between your legs was a complete mess as of right now. It was a slick and sticky mixture of your growing arousal and Harry’s cum from round one. You were so turned on and tingly from all this that you couldn’t help but squirm a bit and whine against him. Riding your face unlocked and an almost primal instinct or feeling that was centered around his pleasure. All he cared about was getting himself off, not you getting turned on and needy. So when he heard you whining and feels your body moving around a bit, Harry stops his movements all together and pushes himself up your face a bit. In doing this, Harry is removing himself from your ass and practically smothering you with with his balls, stopping you from breathing through your mouth all together.

“Make anymore noise and I won’t let you breathe until I cum. Got it?” He growls, tightly pressing his balls into your nose.

“Yes daddy!” You gasp, trying to catch your breath with the little bit of air you are being limited to.

“Good.” He pants, continuing to keep his balls pressed up against your nose. Even though your promised to be a good girl, Harry just enjoyed the feeling of your nose pressed right up against the middle of his sac while you heavily breathed below him and clenched your thighs and cunt as tight as possible. After holding his balls against you like this, he pulls back to let you breathe a bit before demanding you stick your tongue out for him to play with. He goes back to grinding back and forth, and bouncing on your tongue, falling right back into his incredibly pleasured trance. He though your tongue felt so fucking good buried in his ass. He was feeling so good that he could feel his second, and just as heavy release rumbling about in the pit of his stomach.

Continuing on, Harry keeps moving himself against your mouth, desperately trying to push himself to his release. You could hear his moans become more strained and more like whines. So to be a good girl and help daddy cum, you begin to squeeze and rub at all the extremely sensitive points of Harry’s lower body. You rub and squeeze at his ass, you dig your gingers into the backs of his thighs, and you even push your hand up a bit more and you squeeze on his heavy balls.

“This is the only thing your pretty little face is good for, letting me rub one out on it.” Harry groans as he nears his second release, really digging into your mouth and pushing his hole down onto your tongue. As he does this, Harry stares at his cock. His cock was all red, the head almost purple as he pushes himself to his release. “Want you t’slobber all over me now. Want my ass nice and wet.” He instructs you further. When you hear this and he stills on top of you and you go back to where you two started. You gather some of your spit onto his tongue and you just lap your wet tongue up and down his puckered hole. You even pull at his balls and push your head back a bit to quickly suck them into your mouth.

And with that, Harry lets go for the second time of the night. But this time, he was completely out of control. His cock just started spurting his cum all over the place. He came on the pillows a bit before quickly lifting himself up so move and cum all over your face and in your mouth. As he moved though, Harry got a little cum in your hair and all over your face, continuing to cum. You could even feel his balls twitch a bit when he first started cumming. His poor slit was so sensitive and achey from how much hot cum was shooting from him. Once he was finally done letting go and emptying his balls, Harry had made a mess of some pillows, your hair, your face, and your mouth. His loud whines and groans and whimpers from his throbbing and incredibly euphoric second release. Harry then moves from on top of your face and begins to clean your cace up a bit.

“You were such a good girl for daddy. A perfect little fuck toy for my ass.” Harry hums proudly down at you, scooping up the drops of cum from your face and pushing them into his mouth. Once he’s cleaned you up a bit, he gives your cheeks a couple kisses before going back in between your legs and coaxes out another release from you. He manages to make you cum in less than ten minutes; that’s how riled up you were. All he did was circle his fingers around your clit and play with your nipples. That was all he did to make you go wild and cum again, making an even bigger mess between your legs and on the sheets. Now that the both of you had two releases a piece, Harry reaches over your completely dizzied out body to toss the cum stained pillows onto the floor before turning out the lights and getting you two under the covers and ready for bed. You two were nice and warm and his cock was nice and snug inside of you. And in no time the two of you were fast asleep.

If tonight was any type of foreshadowing to the year ahead, you and Harry were pretty confident that it was going to be absolutely amazing.

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inkedstarlight · 3 years

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Bittersweet: Chapter Twelve

Summary: With the New Year comes new changes: Azriel and Elain are now together, Nesta and Cassian have a moment, and someone new enters the mix. Notes: This was the longest I've gone without posting new content, but I'm back in the groove. I'm officially making Sundays my upload day, so look out for that! There will be a new chapter every week. I already have the next couple chapters written, and it will be a lot more consistent now. Read it here on AO3! Warnings: very brief mentions of PTSD and sexual assault Bittersweet Masterlist

January

It was the third week of the desolate, grey month of January. The snow arrived quickly and ruthlessly. The city of Boulder was coated in a thick layer of knee-deep snow, its surface glittering under the sun enough to blind a passerby. Nesta embraced the winter, but there was nothing more she hated than a frozen ground paired with a sunny sky. Going outside bundled in multiple layers only to return home a sweaty mess. It was a suffocating feeling, to be wearing a heavy coat under sunshine.

No, Nesta preferred the unforgiving version of the coldest season. She knew how to dress; she knew what to expect when she stepped outside. It was predictable. Easy.

With the New Year came new changes. To start, Elain and Azriel were now dating, which came as a surprise to no one. When Elain sidled up next to Nesta in the kitchen on New Year’s Day and bashfully told her that she and Azriel were officially together, Nesta just levelled her a look as if to say, No shit, Sherlock.

As much as she despised the fact that their lives were becoming inextricably connected with Feyre's little group, however, Nesta was happy for her sister. Azriel treated Elain like she walked on water. of course, in Nesta's mind, no one would ever be good enough for her sister. Azriel was just managing to wiggle his way over Nesta's impossibly high standards for Elain, the bastard.

He had been spending time at their apartment quite a bit. At first, he and Nesta didn’t speak much. They would both stare at their phones in silence when Elain went to the bathroom or checked on whatever was in the oven at the time.

It wasn’t until the day that Nesta returned home from work to see Azriel playing with Minx in the living room did they 'bond.' When Nesta made her way into the apartment, Azriel explained to her that Elain was switching over the laundry in the complex’s basement. She merely nodded, her piercing stare falling to Azriel's ankles where Minx was rubbing against. She could hear his purrs from where she stood. The fucking traitor.

Nesta watched them play before they began to talk about animals, which turned into shitting on Cassian (Azriel was most certainly joking, but Nesta’s jabs were 100% genuine), which then turned into complaining about the frequency of their little family dinners. Turns out Azriel isn't exactly a social butterfly but Nesta figured that out pretty quickly. When Elain returned with laundry basket in hand, she found Nesta showing off the tricks she’d taught Minx to Azriel, the latter of whom was quite impressed. And that’s how Nesta realized that she and Azriel had more in common than she would've guessed. They both preferred to be in the background, not drawing too much attention to themselves. To Nesta's delight, she also realized Azriel had just as sharp a tongue as she did. The only difference was he knew how to control himself. Although Nesta would never admit it, she could learn a thing or two from Azriel.

But all this was heavily dampened by the fact that Cassian kept worming his way into her life. She supposed it was normal to run into your neighbors, but she had a sneaking suspicion the man somehow memorized her entire schedule. Wherever she turned, he seemed to be there. The elevator was like their rendezvous spot. Nesta was tempted to take the staircase just to avoid him, but her stubborn ass refused to change a thing for him. Even if it was just two flights of stairs.

Cassian had caught her several times in the past weeks. She thought back to a few run-ins that she hadn’t managed to stop thinking about.

“It’s full,” Nesta said dryly, not bothering to look up from her phone. She knew who it was. Who else would go out of their way to enjoy her warm and welcoming presence?

Nesta was just getting back from a short shift she'd picked up at Rita’s. The elevator doors had been closing when Cassian’s foot shot out to stop them.

Cassian looked around at the empty elevator, his eyes finally landing on Nesta. “I think I can squeeze in.”

Nesta looked up from her phone to glare at him. He was wearing a maroon crew neck and medium wash jeans that were rolled up at the ankles. She spied a golden chain around his neck that just slightly peaked out of the sweater. She wondered if it was a cross. Was he religious?

Nesta caught herself before she could think more about it. She didn’t care; she had no interest in getting to know this man. And she knew the feeling was mutual.

She just cleared her throat and looked down at her phone once again, determined to ignore his presence.

Unfortunately, Cassian was just as determined to make his presence known.

Eyes glued to her screen, Nesta did her best to stay as still as possible as she felt Cassian walk into the elevator. She was standing at the back corner, practically a part of the wall herself. Instead of stopping where there was plenty of room, however, he kept walking until he was right next to her. He leaned back against the wall, and Nesta caught a whiff of his cologne. It was warm and fresh and purely male.

She clenched her fist. He smelled good.

She hated that he smelled good.

"Calculating something?" he asked quietly. Nesta detected the amusement in his voice and restrained herself from putting him in a chokehold.

But she followed his gaze that was looking at her phone screen. Brows furrowed, she too looked at the screen.

Fuck.

Nesta hadn't even realized she'd been staring at the calculator app this entire time. When Cassian had gotten into the elevator, she'd opened a random app, a last-ditch attempt at looking busy so he wouldn’t bother her. That plan had clearly failed.

And with her shit luck, she opened the fucking calculator app.

"Yep," she cleared her throat again, scrambling for something to say. "Just figuring out how much it would cost to hire a bodyguard. You see, I have this stalker -"

"Is he handsome?" Cassian feigned ignorance, his lips twitching upward.

Nesta gritted her teeth at his interruption. "No, he's actually - "

"Charming, rugged, good-looking?" Cassian ran his eyes up and down her body and whistled in astonishment. "Wow, you must really like this guy."

She was going to punch him in the gods-damn throat. “You’re an asshole.”

He just stood there smiling at himself, eyes sparkling with mischief. His dark hair was loose, falling at his shoulders. It looked as though he’d been running his hands through it all day. Nesta’s fingers twitched.

She could acknowledge that Cassian was a good-looking man. She wasn't blind, though she would never admit that to him. His head was big enough as is. That being said, there was no appeal beyond his thick hair and fit body. It was a shame, really. Not to mention that Nesta was unable to look at a man with anything other than cynicism after everything that happened with Tomas.

Nesta stopped herself. She didn't need to think about that right now.

Coming back to reality, Nesta realized she'd been blatantly staring at Cassian this entire time, and it hadn't gone unnoticed. He chuckled deeply and angled his body so he was fully facing her. “See something you like, sweetheart?”

Nesta crossed her arms and snorted. Classy.

“Unfortunately for you, my appetite for arrogant meatheads dissipated during college.”

“Oh?” Cassian repeated with a smirk that Nesta wanted to slap right off. “And pray tell, what’s on your menu now?”

“Just the sweet satisfaction of destroying a man’s masculinity.”

Cassian stared at her for a moment before throwing his head back with laughter. Nesta rolled her eyes just as the elevator dinged. She took the opportunity and quickly raced for the doors.

He was still laughing when the doors closed.

Nesta inwardly groaned at the memory. She’d acted like a dolt, but at least she’d gotten the last word in.

The next time they bumped into each other, however, things weren’t quite as playful.

Nesta couldn’t sleep. She’d been tossing and turning for hours, Minx shooting her glares every time she moved. But sleep refused to come.

With a frustrated groan, she rolled to the side of the bed and checked her phone that was charging on her nightstand.

3:38am.

Fucking ridiculous.

Nesta couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a good night’s sleep. She’d been having nightmares nearly every night for the past few weeks, only managing to get about four hours of sleep at most. It was enough that she could function during the day and go to work without passing out. Nevertheless, it was exhausting.

She did her best to untangle herself from the comforter and get up without waking Minx. He was sleeping at the foot of the bed, his entire body stretched out like dough. As she got up, she gave him some love. He didn’t even budge; he was a heavy sleeper.

Nesta couldn’t help but feel jealous.

Rubbing her face, she padded out to the kitchen slowly and poured herself a glass of water. She drank it slowly as she leaned against the counter.

After fifteen of staring into space, Nesta made her way to the fridge and opened it, the soft light glowing on her face.

She stared into the fridge for another ten minutes.

With a resigned sigh, Nesta slowly padded back to her room and closed the door behind her. She lazily pulled her long hair into a messy updo. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her laundry bin. It was overflowing.

She checked the time again. 4:17am.

Fuck it, she thought to herself as she bent down to pick up the laundry basket.

Nesta heaved it into her arms, grabbed the detergent, and made her way down to the complex’s basement where the laundry room was. She was wearing a grey sweater that completely swallowed her body and baggy sweatpants. Her slippers were cat themed. She couldn't care less.

After dumping her dirty clothes into the washing machine and starting it, Nesta sat on top of the empty machine to the left of it. She crossed her legs in her lap and put her hands in her face.

Gods, when was this going to end?

She would almost prefer a nightmare over this. It was the silence that was insufferable. With nightmares, she woke up, stayed awake for a couple hours, and finally fell asleep once her body calmed. But this? She didn’t trust herself to be alone with her thoughts for the entire night. It was never a good thing.

She was just sick of it. The exhaustion, the darkness, the loneliness. Her father’s death still gnawed at her every day. She hadn’t summoned the bravery to read those damn journals. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t know if she’d ever be.

And then Tomas. That horrible memory still surfaced several times a day. She couldn’t shake it; she never felt safe, even when she was in her bedroom. She hated it. Hated the lack of control, the loss of strength. She felt powerless. And without that, what did she even have?

The sound of footsteps disrupted her from her thoughts. Her head shot up as a body filled the doorway to the laundry room. It was Cassian.

He, too, looked like he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He looked comfortable in his Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and dark joggers. In his hand was a dryer sheet.

He stared at her. She stared back.

Neither of them said anything as he walked over to the washing machine to the right of the one her clothes were in. Nesta watched with half-lidded eyes as Cassian switched over his load of laundry to the dryer, swiping his card to pay for the cycle.

Once his clothes were tumbling around in the dryer, he straightened and faced her where she sat.

Nesta couldn't put her finger on it, but he seemed different. Not because it was the middle of the night and he was tired. No, there was something else. She just didn't know what.

“Can’t sleep?” he broke the silence, voice rough with exhaustion.

Nesta pursed her lips and nodded, looking away. She expelled a shaky breath. “You?”

Cassian seemed slightly taken aback by her question, but he hid it well. He took a few steps closer. There were still a couple feet between them, but now he was standing in front of her with his hands in his pockets.

“Me neither," he murmured, his hazel eyes capturing her grey ones. "Sometimes I don't even bother trying anymore."

They both got quiet. Nesta didn’t know what to say; his vulnerability scared her.

It was strange. To have a conversation with Cassian without banter, without insults being thrown back and forth. Nesta didn’t know what to think of it.

"I could be deported any day," he admitted, so quietly that Nesta almost didn't hear. Then he added, his voice breaking slightly, "I don't want to go."

Nesta watched him as he looked to the dirty tiles of the laundry room floor. Her lips parted slightly and before she realized what she was doing, she was talking.

"I have nightmares every night. Today was the first time in two months I haven't had one. A strange part of me would rather have horrible dreams instead of this silence... and that scares me."

Cassian was staring at her now, his eyes flaring. He looked like he wanted to move closer, but he remained where he stood. He simply nodded at the piece of herself she'd just shared with him.

I see you, is what he seemed to wordlessly say to her.

A strange feeling of deja vu washed over Nesta as they looked at each other. She couldn't place it, but this - talking with Cassian - felt familiar, like it had happened -

The washing machine next to Nesta dinged, signaling that her clothes had finished. She pulled her gaze from Cassian's and hopped off to switch her clothes over.

Cassian merely watched. Then, they both waited in a comfortable silence until their laundry finished drying. Cassian's finished first, but he waited until Nesta's did to walk her back up. They didn't share a word, but something intangible transpired between them.

And even though Nesta still wasn't able to fall asleep, the silence felt a bit less scary the rest of the night.

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

“Are you excited for the semester to start next week?”

Nesta froze from where she stood washing the dishes when Elain posed the question.

Next week? That couldn’t be right. Nesta counted off the days in her head.

To her horror, Elain was correct.

It was nearing the end of January. She knew she’d had to return to Pryth U after winter break, but Nesta thought she’d have longer. Longer to get over what had happened, to figure out how exactly to avoid him on campus. She thought by now… she thought she wouldn’t be scared anymore.

She was wrong.

“Nesta?”

Nesta peeled her eyes away from the soapy knife that she was clutching tightly in her hand to find Elain peering over at her with a concerned look.

“Yeah,” Nesta forced out, despite every fiber of her body screaming otherwise. “Can’t wait.”

She continued throughout the morning as normal as she could be, even though she was shaking. When noon hit, Nesta called out to Elain who was lounging in the living room waiting for Azriel to come over.

"I'm think I’m going to go to the gym." She willed her voice not to shake.

"Okay, have fun!" Elain exclaimed from the other room.

Nesta had purchased a gym membership to Illyria last week, a pathetic effort at getting out of the apartment more often. She hadn't gone once yet. And either way, her only real plan was to use the hot tub. She couldn't remember the last time she exercised, and she had no intention of changing that.

After getting dressed and grabbing her bag, Nesta headed out.

The drive was quick; the gym was only a couple miles away. Once Nesta parked, she made her way inside the complex.

She forced a tight smile as she approached the woman who was working the front desk, scanning her membership card and continuing forward. Her mind was racing, and she prayed that there wouldn't be many people there. It was a Tuesday afternoon. She doubted it.

Nesta was weaving her way past the space dedicated to boxing to get to the locker rooms when she heard a familiar voice ahead of her.

She instinctively turned her head to see who it was, only to find Cassian standing next to a punching bag, his face breaking out into a grin as he talked to a very beautiful woman.

She was small, several inches shorter than Nesta. Her copper chestnut hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail, and her hands were on her hips as she attentively listened to Cassian speak. She seemed captivated by whatever he was saying, probably some bullshit meant to charm her.

Nesta didn't think twice as she discreetly did a 180 and started walking the opposite way, desperate to avoid him especially after the night in the laundry room. That'd been the last time she'd seen him, and she didn't want to talk about it. Not with him or anyone else. Even though she'd opened up to him, that didn't mean they were friendly. In fact, it was the complete opposite. She was determined to keep him at arm's length now. Nesta had cursed herself the morning after those events had transpired. She was so stupid to tell him what she did. It was just because she had been severely sleep-deprived, and she had felt bad for him. It wouldn't happen again.

So, she slowly slinked away, praying to the Gods that he didn't notice her.

Her plan was going smoothly until she heard her name.

"Nesta?"

Her shoulders stiffened. Fuck.

She brought herself to a painstaking stop and turned around to see Cassian jogging over to her.

"Hey," he greeted as he approached. He seemed cautious, like he didn't want to scare her off. "I didn't realize you went to Illyria."

"I don't," Nesta replied quickly. He waited for her to say more, but she just blinked up at him.

"Well," he drawled, looking back at the woman he had been talking with. "I'm just about to start a training session." Ah, he works here. She wondered what he did in his free time. "Do you want to join? The first session is free."

Nesta looked to where the woman was methodically wrapping her hands in what looked like Ace bandages. She was more stunning than Nesta originally thought. She wouldn't be at all surprised if Cassian hooked up with his trainees. Especially if they looked like that.

"No, I'm - "

But Cassian wasn't having it. "Gwyn!" he called out, gesturing her to come to where they stood.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nesta hissed, her heart rate spiking as she watched the woman, Gwyn, make her way toward them.

Cassian ignored her, continuing to smile. The bastard.

As Gwyn made her way over, Nesta did her best to put on a friendly face. She was pretty sure she was just grimacing.

"Hi! I'm Gwyn," she introduced herself with a bubbly voice. She looked Nesta up and down. "You must be Nesta. I've heard a lot about you."

Nesta threw Cassian a sideway glare. He'd been talking about her? No doubt complaining about her horrible attitude.

Cassian winked at the look she gave him before turning to Gwyn. "Gwyn, why don't you tell Nesta a little bit about what we do while I go get some equipment from the back? Then we can get started."

Nesta opened her mouth to object, but Cassian was gone before she could even blink. Groaning inwardly, she reluctantly faced Gwyn who was smiling softly at her.

"Well, I assume you know that Cassian is a trainer," she started with an awkward laugh.

Nesta stared at her.

Gwyn continued to smile despite Nesta's coldness. "He actually created this program, Wings of Resilience, a couple years ago. He offers discounted training lessons for people who deal with PTSD. It's helped a lot of people. Cassian mainly teaches kickboxing, but in the past he's taken in some older veterans who aren't really able to do high cardio activities, so he guides them through yoga practices. Everyone here adores him," Gwyn giggles and leans in. "Especially the older ladies who come in every week for their exercise class."

She kept talking, but Nesta was no longer listening. The room suddenly felt tiny, the air stifling. What Gwyn told her triggered her fight or flight instincts. She didn’t know why, she just knew she couldn’t breathe, and if she didn’t leave now, she was going to have a full-blown panic attack in the middle of a room full of people.

“Are you okay?”

Nesta’s eyes shot up from her shaking hands to see Gwyn take a cautious step forward, her eyes wide with something that resembled concern. Nesta nearly let out a hysterical laugh. Gwyn and Cassian - they were such good people. How did they even pretend to give a shit about someone like Nesta?

"I-I need to go,” Nesta blurted, eyes scanning the room for the nearest exit.

"I know it's a lot to consider," Gwyn said quietly. She looked down at her feet. "But it's really helped me."

No, no, no.

Nesta didn't even realize she had started running until her lungs were burning from the exertion of energy. She ran and didn’t stop. She caught a flash of someone – Cassian’s – face as she sprinted past the lobby and outside, but she didn't look back. She couldn't.

The cold air was harsh against her lungs. She welcomed the burning sensation, gasping for more oxygen. Before Nesta could comprehend what was happening, she was spilling her guts on the sidewalk until she was dry heaving.

Passersby looked at her with disgust as they walked past, but Nesta couldn’t bring herself to care.

When there was nothing more to come out, Nesta wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and straightened herself. Every muscle in her body screamed. How she was able to stand, she had no idea. Nesta beelined to her car, locked the door, and speeded out of the parking lot before anyone could run after her.

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

That night, Nesta received a text from an unknown number.

Nesta, I asked Cassian for your phone number. I hope I didn’t overstep your boundaries. I just wanted to let you know that there will be a spot here if you want it. Please think about it. Gwyn

Her first instinct was to delete the text, cancel her membership to Illyria, and never face Gwyn - or Cassian for that matter - again. There was no way she was going to show her face in that gym again.

But despite everything, Nesta found herself saving Gwyn’s number into her contacts before she fell asleep.

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

tag list (let me know if you want to be added/removed):

@sjmships @sleeping-and-books @sirgwaines @books-for-sure @blowing-mikey @b00kworm @wineywitch202 @drielecarla @liquifyme @gisellefigue08 @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @loysydark @stardelia @sayosdreams @maastrash @superspiritfestival @courtofjurdan @ireallyshouldsleeprn @thewayshedreamed @booksstorm @laylaameer01 @rainbowcheetah512

#nessian #bittersweet #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #my writing

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quietcatastrophe · 6 years

Text

To Begin Again- Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay on this one guys! It’s the longest chapter thus far though, so I hope you’ll enjoy it. Special thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge and her lightning speed beta skills.

It could have been the way his eyes snapped to the door every few seconds that did it. It may have also been the incessant strumming of his fingers against the counter, or the protracted sighs he released after every minute that passed. Most likely, it was the combination of all these nervous tics that finally made his godfather snap and banish him to the back office. He stews on these thoughts as he waits, trying to summon some patience. He wants so badly to send her a text message, but she did warn him that the end of her shift is not always a precise time, and that it wasn’t uncommon for her to leave an hour later than scheduled. And today isn’t just any other day—it’s her last shift before starting her maternity leave. Surely that fact alone would hold her up—saying goodbye to coworkers, taking care of the necessary paperwork—all accumulating in more time keeping them apart.

He forces himself to redirect his thoughts, booting up the lethargic desktop computer that he uses to keep track of inventory. The tedium of spreadsheets should be a sufficient distraction—the rank and file of ISBN numbers and purchase orders capable of blanking even the most studious minds. But he soon finds that his tactic is too effective. It’s not the sound of the bell above the door chiming, or the ringing of the telephone that draws him from his office, but the sound of voices. Or rather, one voice in particular. He’s not sure how she made it into the shop so silently, particularly when he was waiting so anxiously for a sign of her arrival. And now the very thing he wished to avoid is taking place right before him.

His well-meaning but nosy godfather is face to face with the woman who has captivated him so completely. In less than a fortnight, she’s managed to become his closest friend—the judgment-free counselor, the rational voice of reason, the opinion most highly sought. She is also the friend that he has maybe talked about just a little too much to Murtagh over the past few days. He can’t help his enthusiasm though, and the oversharing is a side effect of spending their work days together. The elder Fraser has made it quite clear to his godson that he doesn’t understand his connection with this mysterious new woman, and that heartbreak seems to be the most likely outcome of the situation. Despite Jamie’s repeated assurances that there is nothing but friendship between them, his godfather remains skeptical.

Looking at her now, Jamie admits to himself that maybe Murtagh isn’t so wrong to doubt him. She’s the most wonderful mess he’s ever seen. She’d come straight from the hospital—her wrinkled scrubs and haphazardly piled hair a testament to the strain of the day. She looks tired, as one might expect after a brutally long shift. But she’s also glowing, radiant in a way that only expecting mothers can be.

He’s still concealed from their view when he hears Murtagh ask “So can I help ye find anything today, lass?”

“Oh, no thank you, I’m actually here to meet someone.” He chooses this moment to reveal himself, stepping out from the doorway of the office.

“Oh aye, ye’re the Sassenach the lad hasn’t stopped talking about for the last week! Let me just call Jamie for ye, he’s in the office.”

“No need, a goistidh, I could hear ye from the back.”

Murtagh casts a unsubtle glance between them, studying their reactions to one another. For his part, Jamie knows he’s smiling like a fool. Couldn’t help it if he tried. But when he glances at Claire and a similar grin reflected on her face, he can’t be bothered to care what his godfather might think.

“I trust you’ll have no trouble closing up for me tonight? Claire and I have some important matters to take care of, we should get going right away.” He moves around the counter to stand next to Claire, gently placing his hand on her lower back and turning her toward the door. “Ye can call me if there’s any trouble. If not, I’ll see ye back here in the morning.” Without further preamble he shuffles them out the door.

They walk the first block in companionable silence, Jamie’s hand still gently resting on the small of her back. It’s a rare day of full sunshine, and the warmth lulls them into an easy stroll, Claire leading the way to her home. “So, will I actually be able to patronize this book shop of yours some day? Or shall I be whisked away every time I visit?” Her intent to tease him is apparent, her eyes dancing with mirth as she observes his reaction.

“Och, I dinna mean anything by hurrying ye along, it’s just that Murtagh… he’s known to say quite a lot while thinking verra little.”

“Hmm, I see. So is Sassenach some sort of Scots slang for an unwed pregnant woman then?”

“No lass, Sassenach just means an outsider, or foreigner. Because you’re British.”

“Oh, I see. So it’s not the baby out of wedlock that he disapproves of, but my English ancestry is a deal breaker?” she asks with a cheeky smile, clearly enjoying watching him squirm.

“Aye, ye wee minx. He loves bairns, but canna stand the British.” He bumps his shoulder into hers, returning her easy smile.

“And anyway, his deal breakers are not my own. I’ve been capably choosing my own friends for some time now, and most of them are verra respectable people. One of them is even a renowned surgeon.” His hand flexes where it still rests on the small of her back, his admiration like a physical current running through him. “Though I suppose factoring Angus and Rupert into the mix does lower the bar a wee bit.”

He loses himself in contemplation as they continue their walk, content to follow her lead. After a few more blocks, she turns down a tree dotted lane and stops in front of the third house.

“This is me,” she indicates over her shoulder toward the bright blue door of the terraced home. His eyes travel from the façade of the building to the magnificent landscape before him. With everything just beginning to open in blossom, the yard seems to be dappled by an entire palette of colors. It nearly takes his breath away.

“I bought it because of the garden,” she speaks as if reading his thoughts. “It’s the first place I’ve ever owned myself. My first real roots, I guess you might say.” She pauses, a melancholy smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “I couldn’t stay in the flat I shared with Frank. It was so stifled, so full of tension…” He notices again how her hand seems to move to her belly in these moments of openness between them—her palm tracing gentle circles over wherever the baby seems to be pressing at the moment. “It wasn’t a good place to grow. Here though…” she breaks off, turning to survey the land before her. “There’s good soil here.” She gives him a genuine wink, followed by a laugh that makes his heart lift in his chest. He chuckles to himself, remembering his comment about the title of her book that first time they met for coffee.

She reaches for his hand as she opens the gate, leading them up the path to the front door. She releases her hold to search for her keys, finally finding them at the very bottom of her satchel. Once inside, the first thing he notices is that the garden doesn’t stop at the outside wall. Her home is alive in a way that makes him feel as if he’s stepped into a story book. Every windowsill, each table, even hollows nestled into bookshelves are filled with verdant life. It’s soothing and stimulating at the same time, the way the room seems to breathe on its own. The sunlight is filtered by her gauzy curtains, casting a soft, ethereal light that makes everything seem to glow. He’s lost in this moment, captivated by her magical fairy world. He can see why she’d want to put down roots here.

She realizes after a moment that he hasn’t followed her, turning to find him with his eyes dancing about, mouth slightly agape. She moves back toward him, but he doesn’t seem notice.

“After my parents died, I was raised by my uncle.”

He startles, not only from the sound of her voice, but also the sudden mention of the topic. She pauses her story, settling her eyes on his, letting him catch up to the moment. She reaches her hand out toward him once more, and he takes it gratefully. Fingers interlaced, she continues where she left off.

“He was a professor of archaeology, and we spent much of the time between semesters travelling all over the world. I wasn’t allowed to do much on the sites, everything was so sensitive, and they certainly didn’t need a gawky pre-teen mucking about. But when we travelled, I always collected my favorite plants from everywhere we visited. Sometimes it was little wildflowers, other times it was the grass or the moss. I pressed most of it, since plants don’t always travel well. It made me feel less lonely back then, having tokens from all the places I’d called home. I just didn’t know that I’d be cultivating a lifelong interest in botany. Pun intended of course.”

He’s growing used to the feeling of being astonished by her. Her remarkable ability to move from dark to light, her knack for turning to humor when things feel too heavy. Her resilience has impressed him since the moment he met her, and his admiration only grows with each piece of her story she chooses to share with him. He smiles at her, draws in the light from the room around him, much like her wee plants do. “Ye have a lovely home, Claire. I feel as if I’ve wandered into the realm of a woodland faerie. It suits ye well.” He squeezes her hand and she returns the pressure for a moment, sending him a small smile before letting go.

“Can I offer you anything to drink before we get started?” She moves through the arched doorway of the living room, into what he assumes is the kitchen. He trails a few steps behind her, taking in more details as he moves through her space. Her bookshelves are teeming, which makes him exceedingly happy. Her décor is minimal and earthy—natural wood furniture, rich woven blankets, framed sketches and landscape photographs adorning the walls. Her things seems to exude a sense of peace and comfort, like all of the nurturing she put into the environment is being radiated back through them. He finds the kitchen to be just as magical—light spills into the room from a large window over the sink, and scattered pots of fresh herbs infuse the air with their botanical aroma. She’s standing in front of the open refrigerator, surveying her offerings.

“I’ve got water. Or whisky!” she shouts, her face obscured by the open door. “There’s also some orange juice...” she says with some surprise as she pulls out the container, glancing at the expiration date “...of rather dubious freshness. Let’s take that option off the table.” She steps to the sink and pours the murky orange fluid down the drain.

“Well, I dinna like to drink whisky alone, so water will be fine Sassenach.”

He sees the slight tinge of a blush warm her cheeks at his use of the nickname.

“There is… one more option.” He raises his brows in curiosity, urging her to continue.

“You must promise not to laugh first.” He nearly laughs because of the request alone, but can tell by the look on her face that she’s actually serious.

“Aye, I promise not to laugh.” He moves his hand over his heart, as if to seal in the words.

Forgoing a reply, she reaches into the fridge, pulls out the jug, and sets it on the counter in front of him. She turns briefly again, grabbing two mismatched tumblers from the open shelves, and sets them down between them. Jamie leans into the counter island, reaching out to take the container.

“Chocolate milk. That’s yer big secret?” He asks, eyebrows raised, as he pours a glass.

“It’s been my only true craving throughout this whole pregnancy.” She takes the container from him to pour her own glass. “My diet has been the paragon of healthy choices, I’ve been preparing more fresh meals when I’m not on shift, and I’ve done everything else according to the books.” She takes a sip from her glass, smiling when she notices Jamie watching her. He’s taken by surprise, however, when she reaches toward him, fingers lightly grazing his cheek as her thumb sweeps across his upper lip.

“Milk mustache.” Is all she says as she draws her hand away, wiping her thumb on her scrub bottoms.

“Anyway, my point was that it is my only vice at the moment, and I don’t care how juvenile that makes me sound.”

“I don’t think ye’re juvenile.” He raises his glass toward her, waiting for her to lift hers in return. “Slainte, Sassenach.” Their glasses clink gently in meeting, and he downs the rest of his milk like a shot. She struggles not to laugh, clamping a hand over her mouth to avoid spitting out her mouthful of milk. “Clearly,” she sputters out once the laughter begins to subside, “you are the juvenile one in this pair, sir.” He only smiles, and raises his empty glass in salute.

“Shall we get started, then?” she asks as she finishes her glass, placing both his and hers into the sink.

“Aye, let’s build yer bairn a nursery.”

#outlander #outlander fan fiction prompt exchange #modern au #jamie and claire #definitely a bridge chapter that sets us up to get where we are going

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not-close-to-straight · 7 years

Text

Bad Ideas (Fourteen)

Trigger warnings-- sexual assault (discussed/threatened) violence, people die. Violent!Peter is not to be fucked with, and he goes to a pretty dark place.

MASTERLIST

***************************

God it hurts. Peter knew without opening his eyes that he was tied to a chair, his arms forced back in an uncomfortable stretch, his legs tied down as well. Definitely wasn't at home any more, not that there would be much left of their house after that explosion, but he could smell the dank and damp of a subterranean basement and that made him nervous.

Everything hurt so badly, from his head where it had smashed into the floor, clear down to his feet, probably burned from the blast since he had been barefoot.

He had been thrown into the second bedroom when the rocket blew, landing on the bed for a split second before he had managed to flip it over on top of himself and curl into a ball, trying to avoid the worst of the debris.

He didn't remember getting dragged it of the house, or the ride to wherever he was now, but everything fucking hurt and he couldn't help groaning when he tried to lift his head.

“Pete?”

Thank god Wade is here too. “Wade?” He licked his lips and gingerly straightened up. The Alpha was tied to a chair several yards away, ankles and hands shackled, rope wrapped around him several time to keep him immobile.

“Oh fuck baby boy I wasn't sure if you were okay.” Wade tried to lean forward to get a better look at him. “Been calling your name for hours, I was so worried you weren't going to wake up. You okay? Just banged up? You alright? I am going to kill these guys, Peter I swear to god.”

“I think I'm fine.” Peter shifted as well as he could with his arms tied to his sides and wrists handcuffed behind him. “Just sore, I think. Who came after us? Have you seen anyone yet?”

“I don't know who's behind this.” Wade shook his head.” Last thing I remember is watching them drag you away, I must have blacked out before they got to me. And we've been sitting here for a while. Camera in the corner, they must be waiting for you to wake up or something, I don't know.”

“Are you okay?” Wade was covered in blood, but Peter couldn't see any open wounds. “Is all that blood yours?” He was worried, even knowing the Alpha could heal from probably anything.

“Everything that broke is already fixed.” Wade replied and flexed his big arms, testing his ropes. “Pretty sure I punctured a lung, but breathing got a lot easier about half an hour ago so I think I'm fine again. We need to get the hell out of here, though. Right away.”

“Oh, that's not happening.” A door behind Peter swung open and someone new joined them. Wade's head jerked up, his eyes coloring red as they narrowed in anger.

“And who the fuck are you?”

“Oh that doesn't matter.” The man came to a stop right behind Peter, and Wade watched his omega tense uncomfortably. “You don't really care what my name is and this little snack--” he placed a long thin hand on Peter's shoulder. “--won't be alive long enough to remember, so why bother with introductions? In fact, you can just call me sir.” He bent down to Peter's ear, lips brushing against skin as he spoke. “Let's hear you say ‘yes sir’ omega.”

“Don't touch him.” Wade growled and Peter closed his eyes, trying to will his Alpha to stay calm until they knew what was going on.

“You know, Wilson.” The man stood back up, leaving his hand on Peter's shoulder. “I have to say I was more than a little surprised to hear that you had shown back up on the radar. In fact, I thought after that last botched job that the professor and his silly group of mutants had tracked you down and converted you. But I never expected to find out you were just playing house with a little thing like this. That was ingenious… I mean, really, kudos on keeping such a low profile. How did you hide your fucked up face from the rest of the world though? And for that matter,” the man leaned close again and flicked his tongue against Peter's ear. “What's a pretty little omega like you doing with him?”

Peter refused to even flinch, even as he got a noseful of fake Alpha and wanted to be sick. The man smelled almost rancid, a sure indicator of extensive drug use, but also a sign of an artificial alpha-- one that was the result of experiments and injections to rewrite his biology. Who is this guy?

Half a dozen armed guards came through the same door, walking around to stand behind Wade, guns ready.

“Now then.” The man left Peter's side and headed towards Wade, and Peter finally got a good look at him.

He didn't look like… anything. Not anything special anyway. Just an average guy in an average suit backed up by a whole lot of muscle with guns. A natural beta, judging by his build, but just reeking of artificial alpha hormones, and his eyes seemed like they were maybe permanently tinted red as a result of the hormones coursing through him.

“Now, I don't have anything personal against you Wade. Not really. I mean you're an asshole, but most of us are.” He said conversationally. “But someone out there wants you gone and is offering a bunch of money and isn't that just the nature of our work?”

“You're a merc?” Wade looked him over with a sneer. “Don't look like anything special to me. I can smell the fake Alpha in you, didn't know they let lab rats carry guns these days.”

The man seemed to flinch a little, then drew himself up even taller. “Yes, well, not all of us are born the correct sub gender are we? And I might not look like anything in particular, but at least I blend in with the crowd. I have to admire your bravery though, it can't be easy to have such a distinctive look, can it? I think you've cornered the market on looking special. But whether my Alpha is chemically engineered or not--” he leaned closer to Wade-- “it's not gonna stop me from tearing your little bitch apart as soon as I'm done with you.”

Peter growled a little and the man turned back to him with an amused expression. “Did the omega have something to say? What a darling little growl that was.”

The mercenary smirked in amusement. “Honestly, omega, what are you doing with Wilson? Little minx, aren't you? Too bad I only get paid if I bring your body in for proof that I killed you.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully for a minute before smiling terribly. “It's a good thing it might take me a week to kill you, then isn't it? I'd hate for all that moxy of yours to go to waste.”

He held out his hand, and one of the guards handed him a long knife.

“Now Wade, word has it that you can't die. I mean, I have heard just astonishing stories of you coming back from fires and bullet wounds and all sorts of things. Is that true?”

“So far.” Wade replied, watching him uneasily. “Haven't found anything yet that could put me down.”

“And you've tried, haven't you?” The mercenary sent a triumphant glance over his shoulder at Peter. “Did you know he makes a habit of taking his life? I heard once he jumped off a building in front of a crowd of people just to see if it would kill him. Do you still hear voices, Wilson? Or did you put enough bullets through your skull you managed to get rid of them?”

Wade didn't answer, just clenched his jaw and looked away. Peter was staring at him with something like shock on his face, but then he straightened up a little and sent only empathy compassion love towards his Alpha, knowing their captor wouldn't pick up on. Betas couldn't read the pheromones and vibes that Alphas and Omegas could, and he knew when Wade's shoulders relaxed that the Alpha had felt him. Because it didn't matter anymore--what Wade used to do. Not anymore.

“But you still bleed don't you?” The mercenary pressed, when Wade stayed silent. “Still feel quite a bit of pain? For example if I were to stab you here--”

Wade's eyes widened and he shouted for Peter to look away just as the man drove the blade deep into his thigh.

Peter wasn't sure who screamed louder, him or Wade, but he couldn't look away, not when his Alpha was being hurt.

“Did that hurt?” The mercenary actually smiled down at him. “I wasn't told I had to bring back your body at all. So this could get fun. I bet I'd have to cut you into pieces before you stopped healing, huh?”

“Remember, Pete.” Wade called. “He can't kill me baby boy. He can hurt me but I'll heal. I'm fine. Just don't watch. Look away baby. Close your eyes, it's going to be fine.”

“Wade.” Peter choked out, and wanted to scream again when the mercenary pulled another blade and stabbed his Alpha in the chest, twisting the knife into his heart until blood was pouring from the wound.

“You know, I can smell how close to heat your omega is.” He said mildly, as if he wasn't standing in a puddle of Wade's blood. “I figure he's a week out at the most and I know stress makes that sort of thing happen faster. I wonder if I could get him worked up enough to drop into a heat right here in front of you? Wouldn't that be fun? And of course, as an Alpha I'd have to help the poor defenseless omega out, wouldn't I? Really it's the right thing to do. Omegas are so vulnerable when they are ass up begging for a knot.”

Wade roared and strained at his ropes and the mercenary threw back his head and laughed. “Would you like to watch? You're a kinky little prick, aren't you? That seems like it would be right up your alley.”

“Enough!” Peter yelled, and the guy laughed again.

“Don't you know omegas are to be seen and not heard? Has Wade just let you run around disrespecting Alphas all day? That's a real shame. Quiet omegas are so much better.” He said, and smiled at Peter through clenched teeth. “So why don't you sit there quietly and maybe I'll teach you something new?”

He reached out and ripped the knife from Wade's leg, putting it up to the Alpha’s neck instead. “Have you ever watched someone bleed out, omega? It can take a really long time if you learn exactly where to cut. Of course, this ugly bastard has that ridiculous healing factor, so it might take him days, if it ever works at all. Should we try?”

He forced Wade's head back, pressing the sharp edge to his throat.

“I'll be fine, baby.” Wade repeated firmly, but when he swallowed, the blade caught on his Adam's apple, and a thin ribbon of red appeared. “Look away, Pete.”

“I said enough.”

The mercenary turned in annoyance, ready to order the omega taken from the room but stopped short.

Peter rolled his neck, shifted his weight, and tore the ropes and chair apart when he stood to his feet in one smooth motion. A quick jerk of his wrists and the handcuffs went flying.

“What the shit?” Wade's eyes bugged out and he forgot all about the blade at his throat when his jaw dropped. “Peter what the fuck--”

Peter was already moving, webs shooting from his wrists as he ripped guns away from the guards, running and leaping into the air, wrapping his legs around the biggest guys neck and taking him to the ground. The man struggled for all of fifteen seconds until Peter tightened his legs and jerked hard and the man neck broke with a sickening pop.

A hard kick had another guard denting the wall behind him, his head splitting open, and when a third pulled a knife, Peter actually laughed at him, swiping it out of his hand before plastering the guard to a wall with a pile of webbing over his face and let him hang there, kicking and thrashing and clawing at his face as he slowly suffocated.

Two rushed him at the same time, and with an impossibly fast tuck and roll, Peter ducked under one's legs and used him as a battering ram to slam into the fifth guy. They ended up motionless in a heap on the floor.

“Pete!” Wade yelled when the last guard pulled a pistol and Peter froze, halfway into a crouch, then he just smiled, slowly, eerily, and beckoned towards the guard.

“Come on. Shoot me. Do it. .”

The guard fired, and Peter jerked to the left and raised his eyebrow.

“What the hell? You missed. Try again. I dare you.”

Another shot, and this time Peter bent over backwards, his head nearly grazing the ground as the bullet passed over him. He straightened with a smirk.

“You are the worst at this. Considering your life is on the line maybe you aim a little better huh?”

The henchmen's hand was shaking now and Peter tsked. “You'll never hit me with a shaky hand. My hands though--” he was careening towards the guard, taking him out at the knees and knocking him out cold when his head bounced off the concrete floor. “Always steady. See that?” He waved his hands in front of the unconscious man's face. “Steady as a rock.”

“I'm gonna take his head off, omega.”

Peter's head jerked around when the mercenary spoke, taking in Wade still tied up, the blade drawing blood as it was scraped over his skin.

“You know, Weasel said you were dangerous, but I thought he was exaggerating. Apparently he wasn't.” The man's eyes narrowed hatefully. “What the hell are you? Are you one of Xavier's freaks?”

“I don't know an Xavier.” Peter said, with a smile, and kicked at the guard at his feet, sending him sliding towards the wall. “But I know I'm stronger than you. Faster than you. Better than you.” He stopped smiling and his voice dropped. “So back. The fuck. Away.”

“Or what?” The merc sneered. “If you were serious about killing me you would have broken those ropes right when I walked in. But you didn't. Not even when I hurt this piece of shit. You just sat there. And you know what tells me? Even with all that freaky shit you have going on, you aren't going to kill me. Willing to kill some nameless guards but not the head honcho. All you want is your ugly ass Alpha and to leave peacefully, right? You're one of those mutants that only uses your powers for good? A freak omega for a fucked up Alpha?

“What did you say?” Peter twitched a little and the man just scoffed. “What was that about my Alpha?”

“I said you just want to take this gross looking mother fucker and just--mmmph!!”

Peter shot a web at his mouth to shut him up, then wrapped another around his waist and pulled hard, slamming the man into the ground and dragging him to lay at Peter's feet.

“I don't like when people talk badly about my Alpha.” He said softly so softly that Wade had to strain to hear him. “And I really don't like when people assume that just because I'm an omega I'm helpless or frightened or weak or anyone's bitch.”

The man struggled desperately, and Peter placed his hand on his collarbone and squeezed a little. “Do you know how much pressure it take to snap someone collarbone? Just seven little pounds of pressure. Practically nothing.”

His hand closed into a fist and the mercenary started screaming through the webbing-gag as his collarbone splintered between Peter's fingers. “See how easy that was? Hey hey hey your screaming is really distracting, just be quiet, I'm trying to teach you something.”

He wrapped his slim fingers around the man's throat and rubbed his Adam's apple with his thumb. “They say only about eight pounds to snap a neck. But then I heard that you can crush someone's throat with the same amount of pressure you can use to crush a soda can. Have you heard that?” He was talking softly, almost absentmindedly, staring into the mercenary's eyes. “I crushed a car one time. Punched through the roof to get to someone and the whole thing just folded like an accordion. I could do that to you. But I think I'd rather feel your bones break one by one.”

“Peter no!” Wade shouted. “Don't! Don't kill him. Back off Pete! You cant do this!”

“Try and stop me.” Peter hadn't taken his eyes off the shaking man on the ground. “He tried to kill us, Wade. He blew up our home. Kidnapped us. Hurt you. I'm going to tear him to pieces, then I'm going to find that fucker Weasel and snap his neck. I am tired of people taking what's mine and ruining my life.”

“Peter. We can talk later about all of...this. But you won't be able to keep going if you kill him, baby boy, you won't. You've seen what killing does to me, imagine what it will do to you. Peter, please. Please.” Wade was begging with him, tearing at his ropes trying to get free to drag Peter away. “Come on baby you don't want this.”

“Oh no, I definitely want it. He was going to keep me as a plaything for a week. Did you hear him say that, Wade? Because I definitely did.” Peter bared his teeth in a snarl. “I'm going to kill him with my bare hands for that little comment. I could tear him apart without even breaking a sweat.” He crouched low next to the mercenary who was shaking his head frantically

“You know what the worst thing is about guys like you? You're all jacked on fake hormones and steroids and think it makes you big and bad but the moment the tables turn you're pissing your pants in fear.” Peter stared down at him. “I've spent years putting guys like you behind bars and I think maybe, just maybe, it's time to try something a little different. I think maybe I'll start with you. I think it might take me a week. How's that sound?”

“Look at me, Pete. Omega! Look at me now.” Wade growled the command, pushing as much Alpha as he could into it. He couldn't hear everything Peter was saying but he knew if he couldn't stop things that Peter would kill the guy, and even though it could be justified, it would destroy Peter when he came down and realized what he'd done.

So Wade dropped his voice and projected as much submit, omega, obey into the air as he could and repeated. “Look at me now, Omega.” and it worked. The omega shuddered a little and looked up at him, fingers twitching, eyes a little wild, chest heaving as he tried to regulate his breathing.

“You'll never come back from this moment, Peter.” Wade said firmly. “Not ever. Do not be this person. You're better than this.”

“Wade you killed all those men who came after us. How is this any different?”

“It fucked me up for weeks!” Wade argued. “It nearly cost me you. I'm not gonna let you do it. Get your ass over here, omega. Back the fuck off of him. Those guards… okay you know they had guns and were a danger to you, to us. This guy isn't. All he had was a knife and he doesn't have it any more. Peter this isn't self defense, this is murder and you have to back off now. Come to me right now.”

Peter visibly struggled for a moment, conflicting emotions flashing across his face, but finally he took a step away, and then another, until he was standing in front of his Alpha, nearly vibrating with anger.

“I know.” Wade soothed him. “I know okay? But it's better like this. Better for us. Just um, use some of those shocking muscles and get me out of these, okay? And then we're gonna leave.”

Peter just nodded, and placed a hand on each arm of the chair and gave a quick jerk. The chair, the rope, and both sets of handcuffs split right down the middle and Wade stood to his feet with an impressed grunt, brushing the bits of rope off himself.

“Let's just go, baby. Not worth it alright? Not worth what it will do to you. Let's just go.”

Peter still wasn't talking, waves of angry, frustrated, furious pouring from him so Wade put his hand on the small of his back and steered him towards the door.

“Wilson!” The mercenary on the floor shouted, finally having ripped the webs off his mouth. “This isn't over! You and your freaky omega are dead! You should have let him kill me because I am never gonna--”

Wade reached into his boot and whipped around, a small knife slicing through the air and embedding itself in the man's throat.

A shudder went through Peter's body when the man hit the floor with a thud, and Wade reached out for him, trying to hold him. But Peter slapped his hand away and walked out the door.

Wade couldn't do anything else but follow.

****************

#spideypool #wade wilson #peter parker #marvel #abo dynamics #alpha wade #omega peter #spiderman #deadpool #violent peter #dark peter

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