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mortemoppetere · 10 months

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TIMING: late at night PARTIES: @rn-zane, & @mortemoppetere LOCATION: worm row SUMMARY: when a vampire targets emilio, zane steps in and learns a little more about the hunter. CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of child death, suicidal ideation

It had been a slow night. A few spawns, a wight here and there, but nothing substantial. Emilio almost preferred nights like this sometimes, though thinking as much filled him with an acidic shame. After all, he existed only to fight. On nights he wasn’t doing that, he was wasting whatever unwanted second chance he’d been given when he’d survived that massacre in Mexico. But he was damn tired, and there were times where he couldn’t quite fathom the idea of mustering up enough energy to kill anything that might stand a chance at putting up a half decent fight. This was fine, he thought. Wights and spawns were fine.

The world felt heavy, anyway.

He was almost back to his apartment now, at least, tension tightening his muscles in a way it shouldn’t be. A few drinks, he figured, and he’d be fine. He’d be better. He could sit on the couch and stare at the wall and not think for as long as he was able. He liked that.

A shiver went down his spine, pulling him from his thoughts and making the exhaustion settle in a little deeper. He’d spoken too soon, maybe, calling the night over. There was something undead nearby, and the fact that he couldn’t see it was unsettling. Emilio stopped in the street, glancing around with wary eyes.

—

Zane felt like a complete creep. It was a strange sensation, lurking around and not offering a smile or a hello to people passing him, head bowed underneath the dark hood. This would probably lead to nothing but if this Emilio was going to be keeping tabs on Zane and his clan, the least he could do was snoop around the PI as well. Not like breaking and entering, obviously, which he wouldn’t have stooped to even if he could theoretically have walked into the man’s place without an invite. Just keeping an eye on the shabby building that was very faintly labeled Axis Investigation (what kind of a name even was that?) was a good place to start. At least, he’d thought it was a good place to start.

Hanging around on the other side of the street for an hour, garnering strange looks and even making a few people switch over to the other sidewalk once they spotted him hanging around, Zane was starting to doubt everything about this unplanned plan. With a sigh, he glanced back up the street. No sign of the man with the signature limp. What did catch his attention however was someone else, dressed in a similarly inconspicuous manner as Zane, which by itself obviously wasn’t a crime. The mostly hidden weapon in his hand, however, was a different story.

As with most situations he managed to get himself wrapped up in, Zane didn’t give it much thought. He was moving carefully from his previous stake out spot, eyes narrowed as he watched the stranger turn down a narrower street with much less lighting. Halfway inspired by what Cass had said, the way she was using her abilities to help people, the vampire continued to creep behind the other, keeping his distance for now. Maybe this would be nothing. But maybe this would save someone a trip to the ER, or worse.

—

There were few things more unsettling than being able to feel something undead that you couldn’t see. It had always put Emilio on edge, but it had gotten worse over the last few years. The paranoia that had plagued him since that massacre in Mexico often intensified the feeling of something being wrong, and when he was in a situation like this one — feeling without seeing, knowing something was there without having proof of it — he couldn’t help but wonder if his mind had finally snapped entirely. Would there come a day when his slayer senses gave way to his paranoia, when he sensed undead even when none were there the same way he was sure people were a threat to him even when they meant him no harm? The thought was a harrowing one. He was already a sorry excuse for a vampire slayer, already someone his mother would despise. He didn’t need to become something even more shameful.

But he swore he felt something near all the same. He cocked his head to the side, listened for the sound of it. Vampires didn’t have heartbeats, of course, but their movements still made noise if you were paying close enough attention. Come on, come on…

In the shadows, the armed vampire noticed the change in the detective’s manners. He knew he hadn’t been found out, but he also knew it was only a matter of time before he was. The Cortez hunters were notorious, and this one must have been especially dangerous to have survived where all the rest failed. If he wanted to take the man by surprise, he’d have to act.

With a single-minded focus, the vampire was unaware of another of his kind approaching; he paid Zane no mind as he moved to jump out of the shadows and towards the slayer, weapon drawn.

—

There was something very strange about the situation. The two forms in the darkness, still mostly unclear in the dark due to distance despite Zane’s fairly decent night vision, were eerily still. It had slowly become easier for him to remember to breathe despite not needing to but here, he felt himself following the other two in stilling everything, even his breath. The other stranger’s back was turned, he wouldn’t be able to see anything coming. Just turn around and spot this creep! When the armed stranger finally moved it was with alarming speed, jolting Zane into action before he could even form a coherent thought. “Don’t!”

His words rang out, slipping from his mouth of their own accord but Zane didn’t even have time to be startled by them. He was moving towards the danger, recent events having made him realize that it was apparently a tendency of his, sprinting forward at a speed that almost matched the attacker’s. It seemed his panicked warning had finally helped the unsuspecting stranger face the right way, just in time for an attack to barrel into him. Gritting his teeth, Zane skidded to a halt just as the two bodies collided to the ground. “Get off!”

The strength he now possessed still managed to catch him off guard, the few short months not enough time for him to fully comprehend what he was capable of. Especially when instinct took over as it was doing right now, limbs seeming to move without a clear command from his frazzled brain. Hands grabbed at the fabric of the attacker’s jacket, yanking in an attempt to free the other person that had just gotten tackled. It worked and then some, hands managing to pull the attacker off with enough momentum to toss him a few feet to the side. Holding back an apology because that seemed inappropriate given the situation, panicked eyes turned to the person still on the ground. “Hey, are you al-”

Shit. Shit. A face that was so much more familiar than Zane wanted it to be stared back and panic turned into anger. The last time he’d actually seen this man, Emilio, they had parted with some semblance of an understanding. Now, the slayer had managed to make Zane come as close to hating a person as he ever had. He stumbled back a step, overwhelmed with conflict and then he was tripping. The attacker - the vampire? - had easily abused Zane’s fumbling, throwing out a leg and easily unbalancing him.

His back hit the ground, hard, but at least his head was spared the trauma. For now.

—

A word rang out through the streets. Don’t. It was loud in the silence, echoing off the buildings in a familiar voice. Where had he heard it before? It was — wait. The nurse? Emilio turned towards the sound just in time to see a vampire (who decidedly wasn’t the nurse behind the word that had cut through the night moments before) hurtling towards him. He went for his stake, but the vampire hit him before he could reach it. It flew from his hands, landing somewhere out of reach as his body hit the ground.

The concrete was hard, and without his hands free to try to catch himself, he shifted to hit it shoulder-first. It probably saved him from a concussion, at least, but the force of it was definitely enough to pop that joint out of place with a crack. And that was about to become the least of his worries. The vampire looked down at him, red eyes bright and shining with rage. Ah. Probably not a random attack, then. Emilio knew he pissed off a lot of people with the shit he did — a lot of vampires, specifically. But most of them didn’t live long enough to seek vengeance. If this one had…

A relative, maybe. Or a friend. Someone he’d taken out had had people waiting back home. He didn’t recognize the vampire, though that hardly meant it hadn’t been involved in the attack on Etla. There’d been so many of them there, after all. He did, however, recognize the second shape that came hurtling out of the darkness — the one that tackled the first vampire off of him and knocked it to the ground. The nurse reached for him, looking almost concerned until he saw his face. Emilio grimaced. “Friend of yours?” It was all he could ask before the first vampire returned to the scene, taking Zane to the ground.

Right. Probably not a friend, then.

With Zane knocked to the side, the vampire turned back towards Emilio. “Cortez,” it snarled lowly, getting to its feet and putting its foot on his injured shoulder, presumably in a move to keep him still. Emilio winced, biting his tongue to keep from freeing the pained noise that was desperate to break through his lips. “I heard you died in Mexico with the rest of them.”

“Clearly, you heard wrong,” Emilio growled, eyes darting briefly behind the vampire to where Zane was shifting in the darkness. He didn’t particularly want to talk about this with an audience, particularly not when that audience was Zane. That guy hated him; Emilio didn’t want him to know the things that even his friends weren’t privy to. “Are you going to talk, or are you going to kill me? I would like the killing more, I think.”

—

Stunned, more so by the scenario he found himself in than falling on his ass, it took Zane a moment to comprehend the words being spoken next to him. He quickly scrambled to sit up, seeing the scene of this unknown vampire, at least unknown to Zane, making a point to overpower the slayer. While mocking him, inadvertently sharing information that the nurse could almost guarantee wasn’t meant for his ears. With the rest of them. How many people was this vampire talking about? Had they all been slayers or just innocent people? Even with barely any information, Zane could feel doubt and unease creeping in. And he could feel sharp eyes staring at him.

Ever the asshole it seemed, Emilio taunted the already angry vampire and something in the slayer’s voice cut through the anger that had previously coated every thought regarding this man. It was laced with sarcasm but no less earnest. The thought of ‘survivor’s guilt’ popped into Zane’s head as he finally got his shit together enough to get to his feet, shoulders squared. Trying not to notice the stake lying a few feet away. “Just walk away.” His voice was low, much more threatening than he’d intended or even known he was capable of, filled to the brim with adrenaline and conflicting feelings. No matter his personal opinion of Emilio, Zane hadn’t been lying when he’d claimed to never let anyone bleed out in front of him. Not even this jerk of a slayer.

The other vampire didn’t look away from its prey, only adding weight to the foot currently bearing down on what looked to be a very misaligned shoulder. “This one deserves it.” The anger in this stranger’s voice was strong enough to be palpable and Zane felt guilt run heavy as the sentence rang true with the fleeting thought he himself had had after his argument with Emilio.

“That’s not your call,” Zane replied slowly, finally having the sense to step into his more natural role as someone who could possibly deescelate a situation. Possibly being the key word in this moment. The vampire moved swiftly, too swiftly to be planning to simply stop torturing Emilio and walk away. Zane did the same - even though his fighting skills were non existant, he was bigger than the other. Tackling a vampire to the ground wasn’t the best idea but there wasn’t exactly time for planning, now was there?

–

Why was Zane still here? Emilio wished, desperately, that the nurse would do the smart thing and walk away, even if it meant he’d die at this vampire’s hand. He’d meant it when he said he found death preferable to discussion, especially if that discussion might be overheard by someone he didn’t like or trust. There was some dishonest part of him that insisted it was because Zane might use the information against him, might pass it along to his clan who might know more about the Cortez family than he did or blackmail him into doing something he wasn’t comfortable with, but Emilio knew that that wasn’t entirely true.

He didn’t want Zane to know because grief was so much easier when it was some invisible thing. It was so much simpler to hurt in private, where no one could see it. When that curtain was yanked away, you couldn’t close it back. No one would ever look at you the same again.

But, of course, this vampire cared nothing about that. He wanted Emilio to hurt physically, but he likely had no qualms in adding emotional turmoil to that, too. He’d probably enjoy it all the more if that were the case. So Zane wasn’t leaving, and the vampire wasn’t shutting up, and Emilio wanted so badly for this to be over no matter how it ended.

Zane ordered the vampire to leave, and Emilio let out a laugh that turned into a strangled grunt of pain as the pressure on his misaligned shoulder increased. The vampire insisted that Emilio deserved whatever it was he was planning to do, and Emilio couldn’t really argue with that. Whatever the vampire had in mind with him, he probably deserved far worse. But Zane argued with this monster just as adamantly as he had with Emilio when he’d been the monster insisting that vengeance and justice went hand-in-hand. At least the guy was consistent.

“He’s not going to like that,” Emilio said in a stage-whisper just a fraction of a second before Zane spoke up and confirmed the theory. In spite of everything, though, he was still surprised when Zane leaped into action instead of running away as the vampire came towards him. Granted, the action was a fairly pathetic attempt at a fight, but it was still action. Good on the kid for sticking to his guns, at least.

With the vampire distracted with a new fight, Emilio rolled himself over. He bit back a groan as the motion jostled his shoulder, trying to keep attention off himself as he shuffled towards the stake. His leg was locked up; he didn’t even know if it was from the fight, or if the limb was just protesting a little louder than usual. With one arm hanging uselessly from his damaged shoulder, this would be a hard sell. Luckily, he was pretty used to those.

“Oye, pendejo!” Emilio was on his feet now, standing unevenly but standing. The vampire’s eyes darted from where they were locked onto Zane to focus back on the slayer instead. “I thought it was me you were fighting. Ay, let him up, Rosario. I was starting to have fun.” The longer the vampire was in a position where it could talk, the more risk that it would say something. And that was the last thing Emilio wanted here.

—

This was stupid. Too stupid for that description to fit it. Zane couldn’t explain properly why he was still here, taking a fairly heavy punch to the face for a man who had threatened to kill him on numerous occasions and seemed well on his way in getting rid of the only people in this town Zane could somewhat call family. It was absolute nonsense. Even so, he knew that given the opportunity a hundred times over, he would always end up here. Trying to prevent pain. Hoping that death didn’t have to be a necessity to this new life he found himself a part of. “Don’t make me hurt you,” the vampire was hissing in his face, which seemed hilarious considering Zane could feel how misaligned his nose currently was.

Not surprisingly, a dislocated shoulder wasn’t stopping Emilio, who was demanding that the attention be turned back to him. Obviously the injured man wouldn’t take this opportunity to, say, run away? Like a normal person? There was nothing normal about this slayer, Zane was gathering, and maybe not all of it was bad but a lot of it was definitely stupid. Strong words coming from the idiot trying to wrestle a much more proficient vampire while just recovering from a broken leg.

“Fun?!” was all Zane managed to shout back before he was easily maneuvered into a less desirable position, the vampire now in control and slamming his body into the ground. A whispered warning of ‘stay down’ was all he got before the vampire moved on to its real target. Panic rose in Zane’s chest as realization settled. There wouldn’t be three people leaving here no matter how badly he wanted that to be the case. Even if he could hold back one of them, the other wouldn’t stop. There was no doubt that Emilio would go through Zane to get to this vampire if need be. Was choosing who to help essentially dooming the other?

“You don’t need to do this.” It was a poor attempt but an attempt nonetheless, his voice jarringly pleading in the suffocating tension around them. Whether he was speaking to the one whose name he knew or not, even Zane wasn’t sure.

“And you clearly don’t know shit about the Cortez family,” the vampire replied in a low voice, red eyes never once leaving Emilio before it charged.

—

There was an ache in him that had little to do with the dislocated shoulder and everything to do with the way there was a vampire on the ground who knew him wrestling with one he desperately wanted to make sure didn’t. Zane had been a thorn in his side for months now, but it wasn’t the nurse’s tendency to argue about Emilio’s methods that drove the slayer into fits of rage. He was used to that, didn’t much care about a stranger’s thoughts on his way of dealing with violent supernatural creatures. No, what really made Emilio dislike Zane was the moments of concern. The way he’d tried to coax him into an exam in the hospital, the look on his face when Emilio tripped over that gurney while chasing him, the fact that he’d tackled a vampire trying to kill him just to stop it succeeding, that was what made Emilio never want to see the asshole again.

Zane was one of the last people he’d like to learn about his past. Already, the damn vampire knew too much about him. Already, the one taking swings at him from the ground had said far too much for Emilio’s liking. Why did so many of these assholes want to talk? Why couldn’t they just be reasonable and try to kill him the way they ought to? He’d take a knife to the gut over a conversation that might be overheard any day of the week.

The vampire who’d attacked him wrestled itself into a more manageable position, leaving Zane in a vulnerable spot. It didn’t kill him; there was something almost interesting about that. Was there some strange morality that stopped this vampire from killing another? Was killing a toddler excusable because that toddler was a hunter, but killing a grown man taboo because he was a vampire? Part of him wanted to toss the question out, wanted to point out how fucking stupid it was to defend the unimaginable while refusing to cross a line far less reprehensible, but doing so would mean confessing to far more than he wanted to say aloud. The fight was better. The violence in the present was so much easier to swallow than the tragedy in the past.

Thundering feet ran towards him, and the relief hit him before the body made impact. It was cold and stifling at the same time, like the moment after someone dumped a bucket of frigid water over your head when you forgot you still knew how to breathe, when your lungs stuttered and struggled and tried to comprehend the fact that the water wasn’t all around them but dripping to the ground. Even as Emilio was knocked off his feet, all he could think about was how much better this was. All he could think about was that relief.

His shoulder hit the ground first as the vampire steered him into the fall, and for a moment, the world went stark white with the pain of the impact. His ears were ringing so loudly that he couldn’t hear the scrambling of the vampire on top of him for a moment, couldn’t see it around the black dots overtaking his vision. Then, the moment passed and the world slammed back into him around the same time the vampire’s fist found his face. Emilio blinked, shaking his head slightly to bring himself back to the moment. He shifted his position, bending his knees and letting his good leg twist into an uncomfortable position until he could deliver a half-kick to the vampire’s ankle, knocking it off balance. He used the momentum to roll them over, putting himself on top now. With one arm still hanging uselessly, the position wasn’t as much an advantage as it normally would have been. He’d use it as best he could, anyway.

Grabbing the vampire by the hair, he slammed its head into the concrete violently. “What did you think would happen here? You attack me alone, you do it when I’m not expecting it like a coward, and you think this is all it takes? You think I am still alive because no one ever thought to catch me with my guard down before? That you’re the first one smart enough to try it?” The vampire twisted beneath him, throwing an elbow into his ribs that Emilio barely felt at all. With the adrenaline pumping now, even the dislocated shoulder felt muted. But then…

“I heard she died screaming.” The words cut through the adrenaline like a knife, left him frozen. “I heard she was terrified. They both were. Someone told me they called out for you when it happened. Shame you weren’t listening.” He couldn’t breathe. He swore his damn heart stopped beating, swore the world stood still. It was probably the exact effect the vampire had been hoping for. Using Emilio’s hesitation to its advantage, it delivered another punch to his face and knocked him off balance. Hands wrapped themselves around his throat, and the not breathing became a much more literal thing.

The hand of his uninjured arm shot up to claw at the vampire while the injured one flopped painfully against the ground. The vampire lifted him up by his throat and slammed him back again, shifting its position to force his arms down and holding them in place with its knees. “You should be thanking me,” it hissed. “Maybe you’ll see them all again in Hell.”

—

Violence hadn’t been a part of Zane’s life for years. Even when it had been, it was never to this caliber. Fights in the boys’ home sometimes ended with bloody noses and black eyes, sure, but they had always just been venting out their frustration - sometimes on Zane. Never had they been aiming to kill, though. The anger and brutality was a living thing, joining the three people in the alley and consuming two of them, leaving the third pretty much shell shocked as a head cracked against the pavement. He was reminded of his own close encounter with a slayer, the way he seemed to have enjoyed the fight, how helpless Zane had been. Emilio was taunting, sure, but there wasn’t a smidge of joy to be found in his voice.

“Don’t-” he started helplessly but the two of them were caught in their own little bubble, the vampire’s words cutting Zane off. They weren’t meant to have an impact on the nurse, only meant to tear at some unseen wounds Emilio clearly had, but Zane’s heart sank nonetheless. Someone had died. Someone had died scared and alone and Emilio hadn’t been there to rescue them. A fact that was being used against him even though, if Zane’s previous hunch about survivor’s guilt was correct, the slayer was probably using this fact against himself every day.

The air felt thick and it took Zane a moment to realize that wasn’t the reason someone was currently gasping for air. Almost in a trance, he moved closer, just close enough to see Emilio’s bloody face starting to change shades. Whether it was panic or anger or sympathy, Zane found himself making the choice he’d found so incredibly difficult before.

Numb fingers wrapped around the wooden stake that had once again been knocked out of Emilio’s hands, the light object somehow incredibly heavy. The slayer’s face was turning from red to blue and Zane spared a glance at the vampire who was close to finishing its mission. There was no visible remorse in their eyes, no sense that they were having second thoughts. Zane didn’t have time for second thoughts, either.

It had been the vampire’s mistake to assume that Zane would stay out of it, and to stop paying attention. The sound was sickening, settling in his eardrums, wood piercing skin and muscle. It was a shock to feel how easily the stake slid into the vampire’s shoulder - Zane had gathered enough information to know that apparently the heart had to be injured to cause the strange process of a vampire turning into dust. He wasn’t going to kill someone, not even to save a life, even though he knew he was practically dooming this vampire to eternal death the moment his fist met the shocked face. And then again and finally a third time until they finally passed out, body limp on the ground and tears burning behind his eyes.

He didn’t turn back to Emilio, eyes trained on the person he had just beaten unconscious, knuckles aching with a very unfamiliar pain.

—

Black spots danced along the edge of his vision, threatening to overtake him entirely. Emilio fought back against them, clinging to consciousness like it was a tangible thing. The moment he let it leave him, he knew, it would be over. He’d die in this alley at the hands of a vampire who used his daughter’s death like a weapon, would choke on nothing until his lungs burst and his heart stopped.

But would that really be so bad?

The thought clawed its way into his mind as the vampire’s words echoed through the alley. Dying here, in this shitty alley in this shitty town, would it be the worst thing in the world? Emilio wasn’t a religious man anymore. Maybe he never really had been. He didn’t think he believed in Heaven or Hell anymore, and he recognized that if either were real, he wouldn’t end up in the same place as his daughter. But whatever was waiting for him at the end of this life couldn’t be worse than this, could it? He wasn’t sure there was any fate worse than the one he was living already, wasn’t sure there was any way for things to fall more than they had that day in Mexico. His wife was dead, his daughter was dead, his entire fucking family was dead. What more could be taken from him? What did he have left to lose?

His hands, still trapped painfully beneath the vampire’s knees, stopped moving. His legs stopped scrambling for purchase against the ground. He met the vampire’s eyes briefly before closing his, waiting for the darkness to overtake him entirely. Maybe it’d be better, when it was over. Maybe there was only one way to find peace.

Then, all at once, the pressure against his throat disappeared. That painful weight was gone from his wrists, the body on top of him vanished. He gasped without meaning to, lungs greedily sucking in the oxygen he’d been so ready to do without just seconds before. His mind might have accepted his fate, but his body hadn’t. It had always been that way, he knew; a dead thing pretending to be alive. He’d never been all that different from the things he hunted.

He heard the sound of knuckles hitting flesh, and his addled mind scrambled for a moment before providing an answer. Zane. He’d forgotten the nurse was in the alley at all, his presence fading when the oxygen deprivation had begun to erase the world from around him bit by bit. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful for the assist or not. His chest ached, his head was pounding, his shoulder felt like it was on fire, his wrists hurt. It was hard to feel grateful for just about anything right now.

After a few moments, the sound of Zane’s fist hitting the vampire’s face stopped, and the alley was still. Emilio’s wheezing gasps were the only thing left. It took the slayer three tries to sit up properly, grunting as he forced himself into an upright position to inspect the scene. Zane was sitting over the vampire, who was now unconscious. He wasn’t looking at him. Emilio couldn’t get his feet underneath him, so he settled for an embarrassing scoot towards the pair. He found his stake in the unconscious vampire’s shoulder and reached out, wrapping his fingers around the wood on the second try.

“You know,” he said hoarsely, the words painful as they moved past his injured throat, “I’m going to kill it. Right?” There was no question to it. Maybe, if it had only been the physical attack against him, Emilio could have been convinced to come to some kind of compromise. It wasn’t as if he had ever prioritized his own physical well-being, after all. But this vampire had taken it farther than that. The words still echoed in his ears, would stay there until something else managed to accomplish what this vampire had narrowly failed to do tonight. I heard she died screaming. He yanked the stake free from the vampire’s shoulder with some difficulty.

—

His ears were ringing, the high pitched sound droning but somehow unable to block out the sound of fists meeting flesh and bone. It was inciting a physical reaction, his whole body locking up and wanting to cringe away from the whole scenario. The only refuge Zane could find was that he had in no way enjoyed this exchange, wracked with guilt and disgust and being the cause of harm. Even if it had been to prevent harm befalling someone else.

Zane didn’t even notice Emilio moving closer until the man spoke up, his voice rough and quiet but still cutting through the vampire’s haze. Blinking a few times, he finally looked down at the man he had, for some reason, decided to save. Maybe if he felt less viscerally tired, Zane would have made at least some attempt to talk this through. As it was right now, he just felt numb and honestly, a small part of him felt this was justified. It was the tiniest little part, barely there but the words the unconscious vampire had spoken came back like a freight train once Zane finally saw Emilio’s face. Not the fact that the face was bloody and bruised but how absolutely broken it looked.

Instead of answering, Zane simply walked a few steps away, letting the ringing in his ears overtake him again in the pitiful hope it would let him ignore what was happening behind him. It didn’t work and he’d never been too good at denial. When there were only two people left behind in the darkness, he slowly walked back to Emilio, not even noticing how unsteady his gait was. Wordlessly, Zane crouched down next to the slayer, hesitantly reaching for the dislocated shoulder and waiting for permission as to not get himself staked as well. Distractedly wondering just how many shoulders he had now popped into place outside of the hospital.

—

He was expecting an argument. Maybe he was hoping for one, in some strange way; being forced to defend his position might allow him to think of something else, might make the noise in his head quiet down just a little. There was so much grief there now. So many unwanted images of the scene the vampire had described flashing through his mind’s eye, of Flora terrified and crying out for a father who’d only ever been good at arriving a little too late, of Juliana screaming his name despite the fact that she must have known he wasn’t listening. He wanted the rage back. He wanted Zane to relight the fire in his chest, wanted him to insist that the unconscious form he’d beaten into the concrete still deserved some form of mercy so that the anger could thaw that frozen fear out of his throat.

But he didn’t get it. Zane turned, he walked away, and Emilio was left with a bloody stake and an aching heart. Wasn’t he always? The anger had never really been anger. It was a masquerade, a child’s shitty cardboard mask that did nothing at all to truly disguise the wearer. He clung to that fury, but it wasn’t who he was. He gripped it with all the strength he had, but it turned to dust like everything else. He wasn’t angry. He only wanted to be.

There was no real satisfaction as he lined the stake up over the unmoving chest, no sense of joy as he drove it home. It was a quiet thing, the wood piercing the skin, but it was still the loudest thing in the alley. Drowning out the vampire’s moral crisis and the slayer’s quiet anguish, making itself known in any way it could. The vampire wasn’t awake to let out any kind of death rattle, so that stake did it for him. It pushed through the skin and between the ribs, pierced the organ underneath. When the body turned to dust around it, the pressure didn’t stop. The stake fell through, hitting against the concrete with a clatter that seemed deafening. Emilio stared at the empty space, those words still echoing. Someone told me they called out for you when it happened. Shame you weren’t listening.

He didn’t realize Zane was still in the alley until he rejoined him, senses all drowned out by the grief. He didn’t know why the nurse hadn’t left; he didn’t know why Zane had done any of the things he’d done here tonight. Why step in to begin with? Why save Emilio, why let him drive that stake home? Didn’t he know that any attempt to rescue Emilio from any of this was doing little more than prolonging the inevitable?

Emilio didn’t move as Zane crouched next to him, still staring at the dust that was being swept away in the wind now. A few minutes ago, it had been a man. A few years ago, Emilio had been a father. Funny, the way time changed things.

Hesitant hands hovered over his dislocated shoulder, the question silent but clear. Emilio tore his gaze away from the concrete to look back to Zane, his eyes searching the vampire’s as if he might find answers to any of his questions there. He didn’t. He wasn’t sure answers existed for the questions he had. After a pause, he nodded painfully, shifting to give the nurse better access to his shoulder. Easier than setting it himself at home, less painful than letting Rhett do it and answering the inevitable questions he might have. Emilio certainly deserved the inconvenience, the pain, but he didn’t want it. And Zane was offering to let him skip it. Might as well do something good for him, for once in his goddamn life.

—

Whether broken down by the vampire’s words, that seemed to still haunt Emilio despite it being erased from existence, or just simply tired - Zane was allowed to help. Sure, he knew that the stubborn slayer had taken the pain killers at the hospital many weeks ago, allowing the nurse that small gesture of goodwill but this was different. Zane had been fully prepared to be swatted away or cursed out for offering help but the slow nod was yet another surprise in this evening that seemed full of odd things.

As gently as he could with his shaking hands and aching knuckles, Zane reset the man’s shoulder, wincing sympathetically as it snapped back into place. Or maybe he was wincing at the angry red marks on Emilio’s throat, the way his tired eyes were even more bloodshot now after the lack of oxygen. Realizing that he was lingering in the slayer’s presence, who was docile but still holding a weapon capable of destroying Zane with a single movement, he scooted back to a safer distance. Trying to find words to fill the silence that was dragging on.

“Whoever they were, I’m sorry.” His words felt unbelievably loud in the silence, having the same effect as if a gun had gone off. Zane wanted to say more, wanted to know more but as much of a stranger as Emilio was, one thing was sure. He probably didn’t want a vampire’s sympathy and he definitely wouldn’t be answering any questions. Then again, the simple act of accepting assistance had surprised Zane. Maybe the slayer had more surprises hidden under the surface.

Moving slowly, fast movements and noise feeling like a violation of this strange and daunting tranquility that had settled, Zane stood. “I should go,” he said quietly even though the last thing he wanted was to leave this man, broken both physically and mentally, alone.

—

Zane’s hands on his shoulder were among the most gentle Emilio had ever felt, though it didn’t stop the limb from shooting fiery pain throughout his torso as the nurse rotated it back into place. Despite the pain, Emilio scarcely reacted. There was a faint flinch, a sharp intake of breath as his eyes squeezed shut, but little more. He didn’t turn to look at Zane again; his eyes were still locked on the dust on the ground, the stake resting against the cement. I heard she died screaming. The nausea pulling at his gut had little to do with the ache in his shoulder or the way his lungs still screamed from the lack of oxygen.

The presence of Zane at his side was still a surprise; it seemed to disappear again until he spoke, like Emilio could only focus on him when he was making himself known, somehow. His tone was just as gentle as his touch had been, and Emilio wondered why the vampire thought he deserved that. He wondered why anyone did. He thought of Teddy, gently guiding him off the roof and to their boat when he was cursed, of Nora and the way she always seemed to know what he needed and never hesitated to give it to him, of the food Wynne left outside his door, of the way Arden would sometimes drop a bottle of whiskey by his apartment, of how Zack texted him to make sure he was all right, sometimes. Why did any of them give a shit? Why were they always trying to help? It felt so wrong, somehow. Like something he should feel guilty for.

Add it to the fucking list, then.

“They were…” His voice was still hoarse, still uncertain. They were important, he wanted to say, because they were. They deserved to be saved, and I didn’t do that. They deserved to live, and they’re gone. They deserve to be remembered, at the very fucking least, and I do everything I can do to forget them. It was funny, almost, the way he still managed to fail them, even years after they were gone. Like it hadn’t been enough for him to let them down while they were alive, like he had to repeat the process every single day. He failed them every morning when he woke up, failed them every night when he went to bed, failed them every moment in between. Failing them was all he did, these days. Maybe it was all he’d ever done. They deserved for him to have the goddamn decency to speak about them now, deserved for him to share their memory with Zane no matter how much it ached. And still, Emilio couldn’t get the words past his aching throat. How many times, he wondered, could a man fail his family? How many times could he fuck up before fucking up was all he did? He was pretty sure he’d passed the threshold years ago now.

He felt Zane stand beside him, nodded his head at his words. “Yeah,” he agreed, “you probably should.” He probably should have left a while ago, when there were still hands wrapped around the slayer’s throat, when options were running out just as much as the oxygen was. It probably would have been a better ending than this.

—

There was no telling what this turn of events meant for the situation previously shared by the slayer and the vampire, a situation that could only have been described as hostile. Even though everything felt like it had changed, Zane knew that in a couple of days, nothing would be different. Emilio would still be a man on a mission - a mission that was closer to the man’s heart than Zane could have fathomed - and he would still be just another undead nuisance. Believing anything else felt childish, at the very least.

Shaking hands still hovered, feeling betrayed that they weren’t allowed to comfort, something they were so innately skilled at. Would Zane have offered more comfort if this man hadn’t threatened to burn down the only safety net the vampire had found in this town? Did that make him selfish or just human? He had saved Emilio’s life but even now, it felt like the wrong choice. Letting the slayer die hadn’t felt like the correct choice, either. Just a flip of the coin, then, with Zane feeling like a traitor to everything he stood for either way. His ears perked up when the husk of a man in front of him attempted to speak but the words died. Why would Zane be privy to information of this caliber, anyway?

His retreating footsteps were slow, as if dragged through mud. Leaving Emilio here was wrong. Zane felt it in every fiber of his being but staying was just delaying the inevitable. He couldn’t help. Not here, not now. Probably not ever. Every possible word of comfort or way of saying goodbye ran through his mind but none of them made it past his lips, which opened and closed pointlessly a few times before Zane finally tore his eyes away and turned. It didn’t make it any easier to walk away, the last few minutes permanently etched into his brain, searing a phantom pain there to go with the aching in his knuckles.

—

What did he want? It was a question he’d never really known the answer to. He wanted Zane to stay, wanted him to come back to his apartment with him and fill the empty space, wanted to have someone else sit with him inside the isolation chamber he’d built for himself. Paradoxically, he wanted Zane to leave, to pretend he hadn’t seen what he’d seen and heard what he’d heard, to never speak to Emilio again at all. He wanted to be alone. He wanted someone to tell him things were going to be okay. He wanted harsh truths and pretty lies, wanted everything and nothing. Grief was a breathing contradiction, twisting your thoughts and feelings into things that made such little sense. You were someone else, you were the most you you’d ever been.

You wanted a savior and an executioner at the same time.

Asking Zane to stay felt heavier than letting him go, so Emilio said nothing. It was easier, after all, to stay silent. And didn’t he always take the easy way out? Wasn’t that what this whole crusade had always been about?

He stayed on the ground as Zane moved away, unsure if he was hoping for the man to go without a word or to realize his mistake and finish what the other vampire had started. There was still a stake laying on the ground, and wouldn’t it be fitting? Wouldn’t it be just what he deserved if Zane buried that wood in a beating heart instead of a still one? But he knew it wouldn’t happen, even before the sound of the retreating footsteps reached his ear. Zane was different than Emilio, after all; he wasn’t a killer.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat in that alley, staring at the ground. Long enough for the sun to stream through the walls surrounding him, long enough for the sounds of conversing passersby to flitter in from the street. The wind blew away the ashes, his leg ached with his position on the ground. By the time he finally stood, he nearly collapsed under his own weight, stumbling a little. He didn’t pick up the stake. The thought of it made him want to let himself fall, made him want to lay on the concrete and not get up.

But he had shit to do, didn’t he? He’d fallen behind. The vampire’s words still echoed in his ears. I heard she died screaming. His daughter had died terrified, calling out for a father who was only ever good at being too late. Emilio had let himself get a little too comfortable, perhaps, in pretending to be a person. He should have known better. A knife was only ever going to be a knife. And this one still had so much more to do. There were more vampires from that massacre still out there. Whoever had killed Flora was still out there.

He’d make sure they died screaming, too.

#rn zane #zane: nothing to say #wickedswriting #s1 writing #season 1

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ncssian · 2 years

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A Favor: Postscript [Two]

Fic Masterlist

a/n: NSFW, like the whole thing

***

Azores, August

Cassian observes Nesta sitting by the window of their hotel room, the backdrop island view framing her as she studies the ins and outs of Colorado state law.

She’s still in her bathrobe, despite the fact that she got out of the shower over an hour ago and her hair is no longer damp. Nearly the entire time they’ve been at the Azores, Nesta has been glued to her computer screen trying to consume as much information as possible in preparation for the Bar. A test that’s still a year away, not that one could tell with how fervently she’s been studying.

Of course no one supports Nesta in her studies more than Cassian, but right this minute he’s kind of missing their Costa Rica rainforest hut from two weeks ago: no internet or cell connection, only the two of them and the occasional terrifying insect on the wall.

He knows she’s only being like this because the one-year-long timer to the Bar has recently started ticking. The last couple of months have been filled with nonstop adventure and excitement, and he should’ve figured it was only a matter of time before this new, relaxed Nesta snapped back into hardworking, goal-oriented Nesta.

Still, he thinks she deserves a break.

Shirtless and wearing nothing but boxer shorts after his own shower, Cassian rubs a towel through his damp hair one more time before tossing it away and approaching Nesta.

He might flex his abs as he comes up to her, but it doesn’t matter because she doesn’t look up from where she types away on her computer. When it becomes evident she won’t spare him a glance on her own, Cassian casually hooks a foot around the leg of her chair and tugs her seat around to face him.

Nesta finally looks up, irritated at the sudden movement until she sees Cassian. “Oh, hey sweetheart.” She offers a distracted smile. It’s robotic, perfunctory, and it fills Cassian with disappointment. His charm has worn off. He might as well be dressed in a snowsuit for how much Nesta isn’t ogling him right now.

"Hey Nes." It's a struggle to not sound like he's whining for attention. He nudges her knee with his. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Studying." Her attention is back to the computer screen already. Cassian glances over and sees what looks like practice outlines for a case. The engagement ring on her left hand reflects the light as she leans over to continue typing, and a burst of frustration overtakes Cassian. Nesta belongs to him. That’s his ring on her finger, not the Bar exam’s ring.

“You’ve been studying since the moment we got here,” Cassian says, folding his arms across his chest in quite a pouty manner. “Are you really not going to take a break, for yourself if not for me?”

Nesta manages to throw him a frustrated look and keep typing a mile a minute at the same time. “Don’t be like this, Cass. Yesterday I spent all day at the beach with you.”

“And you were on your laptop the whole time.” His voice deepens, becoming more serious. “At this rate I think I’m going to have to take it away from you.”

Nesta moves lightning-fast to clutch her laptop close before Cassian can even consider trying anything. “You can’t,” she pleads with wide blue-gray eyes. “I’m almost done with this case, I swear.”

Cassian narrows his own eyes at her in judgement, but shrugs and says, “I’ll have to take your word for it, then.” He slowly lowers to one knee, then the other.

“What are you doing?” Nesta says, still wary that he’ll try to take her computer away.

“I’m letting you study,” he answers innocently. His hands skim up the backs of her calves, stopping at the knees to pry them apart. “But on one condition.”

Finally he’s succeeded in gripping Nesta’s attention. Her breath is a little shallow when she asks, “What is it?”

“You said you’re almost done with your case?”

She nods in confirmation.

“Then finish it,” Cassian says, nodding to the laptop. He circles his fingers around the sensitive skin behind her knees, and he sees her toes curl into the carpet out of the corner of his eye. “Finish it without getting distracted, and I won’t bother you again for the rest of our time here. But if it’s not done by the time you orgasm, you put the study materials away for the next week.”

“I’m going to orgasm—?” Nesta’s question is cut off by a sharp gasp as Cassian buries his head under her robe.

Of course she never bothered to put on underwear. He slips her legs over his shoulders and pushes the flaps of her robe up to her waist, baring her sex to the open air for his viewing pleasure. Gripping her by the hips for a better angle, he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses along her inner thigh, using just the right combination of tongue and lips and stubble to turn her creamy skin red with heat.

Nesta huffs from above him, in irritation or arousal Cassian doesn’t know. “Whatever; I can multitask.” She means to sound casual, but the breathiness of her voice gives her away. Cassian hears typing resume from above him. Bold of her considering that he hasn’t even done anything yet.

Cassian continues his teasing along the outer lips of her sex, purposely avoiding any actual sensitive parts. He wants to let her wetness gather and pool first before licking it away.

Nesta becomes antsy the closer he creeps to where she wants his mouth, her thighs shifting atop his shoulders. Cassian gives her legs a forceful squeeze in warning to stop moving, and he’s surprised when she actually obeys. Daring a glance up from her gleaming center, he finds that Nesta’s stopped typing. Her fingers still hover over the keyboard and her focus remains on her practice case, but her brain is clearly short circuiting— waiting to see what happens next.

So Cassian shows her.

The first lick from entrance to clit elicits a choked sound from Nesta, one that she cuts off short through that fearsome steel will of hers. Cassian doesn’t care.

The first taste is always the most stunning. He doesn’t know if eating pussy is supposed to feel like lapping up cold water in a scorching desert, but he does know that this will never get old. The taste of her arousal on his tongue and in the back of his throat will never be any less mouth-watering; the scent of her will never be any less intoxicating. He’ll be hungering for her in the grave.

He laps at her a few more times, slow and thorough where he wants to be frenzied, before miraculously managing to pull back just enough to look up at her. Her eyes are screwed shut and her head is tilted up toward the ceiling like she’s praying for someone to save her. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something?” Cassian says, his tone more thick instead of smug like he intends.

Nesta releases a shuddering breath, her only sign that keeping quiet is having a toll on her. She opens her eyes with a bob of her throat, giving Cassian a cold look before twisting back to her laptop.

“As the plaintiff was not in the zone of danger when the incident occurred,” she mutters out loud as she types, “there are no grounds for—”

Cassian spreads her folds open with one hand to expose her clit. The typing halts and he strikes, wrapping his lips around her pink nub and suckling hard. Nesta’s hips jerk, her thighs clamping around Cassian’s head, but he only pries them back apart with patient hands and continues his ministrations.

From above, the typing resumes, but at a much more stilted rate than before.

Normally Cassian enjoys dangling Nesta off the edge of release, toying with her until her body physically can’t handle it anymore, but he has no time for that kind of leisure today. He has to win this game before anything else.

Cassian pulls back until Nesta’s legs slip off his shoulders, and he can swear a devastated whimper leaves her mouth. His own mouth is slick with her wetness, and when he looks up, Nesta is firmly avoiding his gaze and focusing on the case in front of her.

“You’re cute when you lie about how badly you want me,” he chuckles, taking one of her ankles and propping her foot up on the edge of her seat. He does the same with her other foot, leaving her entirely spread out and exposed before him.

“Maybe you’re just not that good at eating pussy,” Nesta says, voice roughened. Even in this new vulnerable position, she looks like a queen on a throne.

Cassian clicks his tongue in mock-disappointment. “If only you were capable of lying to me.” He leans forward and slips his tongue inside her at the same time his hand trails up her waist to find the tie of her robe and yank it undone.

He can practically feel her inner walls throb, feel the blood pounding through her core and against his tongue. It leaves him panting for breath, and he has to peek up through his heavy lashes to see if Nesta feels this intensity, too.

She’s too busy shoving her robe off to notice him. With her arms now free, she clasps one of her breasts in her hand and groans lowly, pushing her hips up against Cassian’s face. A lovely red flush has overtaken her bare skin from thighs to chest to neck, caused by no one other than him.

When she finally meets his gaze, he lets himself dip his tongue in and out of her once, twice. Only teasing. He doesn’t expect it to do much for her, but Nesta surprises him by whimpering louder, clenching the arms of her chair until her knuckles turn bone-white. “Please,” she whispers.

Shit. She’s close, and that knowledge alone puts Cassian on a dangerous edge.

He takes it as permission to finally unleash himself on her, spreading her thighs even further and devouring. Someone swears aloud, and he doesn’t know whether it’s him or Nesta. But the taste and sight and feel of her…

Everything Cassian knows is hot and pink and soft, to the point that he thinks his straining cock might burst if he keeps this up for much longer. He’s come untouched while eating her out before, but he has no intention of falling apart now when his entire focus belongs to Nesta.

One broad hand briefly lets go of Nesta’s thigh to snake down to his boxer shorts, squeezing himself over the fabric to try to relieve the ache. It doesn’t work, but he can’t keep his hands off his fiancée long enough to properly take care of himself.

None of it matters once Cassian slides a finger knuckle-deep inside Nesta and finds her swollen G-spot, scraping against it with a nail. That’s all he needs before Nesta’s hands are fisted in his hair, her hips riding his face, her inner walls pulsing and squeezing around his tongue in orgasm. Cassian’s eyes roll back in pure satisfaction as Nesta’s soft cries fill the hotel room.

This is how it was always supposed to be: her pleasure over his, her happiness over his, her needs becoming his needs. Some might call it a barbaric way to live. Nesta herself has said that Cassian needs to be more selfish, that there’s such a thing as being too selfless.

When it comes to this—and to her—he vehemently disagrees.

He keeps licking even as she comes down from her high, pulling away only when Nesta taps at his shoulders, telling him she’s overstimulated.

“Did you finish?” Cassian pants, licking any remaining traces of Nesta off his lips.

“Fucking obviously,” she gasps.

“I meant the practice case.”

“Oh…no.”

Before Cassian can even think about gloating, Nesta slams the laptop shut with one hand and tackles him to the floor. Her pelvis presses into the aching hard-on still trapped in his shorts. “You win,” she announces with a little giddiness, and promptly begins to strip him of his boxers.

It might be the only time he’s ever seen Nesta happy to accept defeat.

***

a/n: if they felt a little ooc in this one it’s because vacation changes people but it’s okay we’re going back to basics next chapter

taglist:

@rarephloxes

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#ncssianwrites #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #a favor ps #nessian fanfic

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danny-chase · 3 years

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Stupid Batfamily Headcanons

I know in canon there's not a basis for Jason and Dick having beef, but when I headcanon them having beef it's for incredibly petty reasons

Such as: Dick accidentally spilling coffee on one of Jason's book while home for a weekend

Jason retaliating by jumping on Dick's bed to wake him up at an ungodly hour the following morning

Tim runs the local universities meme page despite never attending a class there and dropping out of high school

You see Dick walked so Tim could run: Dick dropped out of college so Tim could drop out of high school

Jason secretly listens to and vibes heavily to like really popular pop songs like everytime we touch and i want it that way

Cass just dances around her apartment/the manor/wherever she is

Babs gave her an Alexa or whatever so now she just knows how to ask for her favorite songs

Not a dumb one sorry: but Cass does know how to speak and is perfectly capable of speaking her mind, she's just not a very vocal person and prefers actions over words

Tim took Damian to play paintball once to resolve a stupid argument and neither of them ever speak of it

Duke plays webkinz

Jason once literally threw Dick out his window (even after being reconciled with the family)

Tim came like *this* close to doing the same thing to Damian and stopped because Steph rolled her eyes and called both of them out on it

You see Steph, Dick, and Duke can mediate between Damian and Tim

But absolutely no one (except Barbara but she's usually busy) can mediate between Dick and Jason

The two of them have idiot brother energy (i have this with my sister it's high key a thing) and make stupid decisions at 3am like buying a kiddie pool and filling it with hot water to make a hot tub and dying their hair bleach bond with cheap box dye

Duke and Tim are beginning to have the same dumbass energy but Steph and Cass keep them from doing anything toooo stupid

Dick, Steph, and Cass are in the no knock gang (Dick gets too anxious and forgets to knock, Steph has like a million things on her mind and forgets, and Cass's senses are good enough that she already knows what's going on in the other room cuz she moves so quietly)

Jason, Tim, Duke, and Damian are in the knock gang - they've tried absolutely everything to get the others to knock to no avail (throwing everything from dirty socks to knives)

All of them are in the we will break into your apartment instead of using the key you gave us gang

#batfam #dc comics #dick grayson #batman #batfamily #cassandra cain #tim drake #nightwing #barbara gordon #oracle #jason todd #red hood #duke thomas #signal #damian wayne #robin #red robin

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cal-puddies · 2 years

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No One has to Know What We Do //Calum Hood

Hello hello! Here's part two! I don't really have any words on this but if you missed part one, or want to keep up: Even if It's Just Pretend.

Warnings: angst and general smut, rough sex, Dom-ish calum, oral sex

Word Count: 9282

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist

Let us know what you think!

The alarm goes off and Cal squeezes you tighter to him. It was a good reassurance for you, knowing he was still there and this wasn’t an elaborate dream you had. You wouldn’t put it past yourself at this point.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “We gotta get goin’ so we can make it to breakfast.” He presses kisses over your face until you open your eyes.

You finally make it out of bed and then you’re standing at the door, your pile of stuff in your hands, only his t-shirt on your body as he holds you. “I’m gonna shower real quick and get my stuff for today together and then I’ll come down to you and we can do sunscreen before we head over?”

“Sounds good to me,” you coo, standing on your toes to kiss him again.

You’re still in your towel, picking which swimsuit you wanted to wear when Cal knocks on your door and you let him in quickly.

“I thought you’d at least have this part done,” he chuckles.

“Well, you more than anyone know much these things can move around, so probably safest to lather just my entire bod,” you wink.

“I see what you’re gettin’ at,” he smirks, picking up your sunscreen and waiting for you to drop the towel.

Once you’re both lathered and you’re dressed, you pull on the shirt you wore from his room, tying it up at your waist. “This OK?”

“It’s fuckin’ great.” He grins. He’s first out the door and you wait a minute to make sure you’re not spotted together but you end up meeting at the elevator.

The two of you walk into the private room where everyone is being served breakfast and it’s all eyes on you and Cal, as you’re the last two to come down. Sierra waves you over to where she’s sitting with Luke, Ash and Lyric.

“I’ll grab you a plate,” Cal offers, splitting off toward the buffet.

You plop in a seat and Sierra immediately is on you. “Hey,” she greets.

“What’s up?”

“You’re off host duty today, Luke and I are gonna take it so you and Cal can have some fun.”

Matt leans over from the next table. “Oh, I think Cal had plenty of fun last night. I don’t know if he brought someone back from the bar or what but there was definite moaning in his room last night.”

You laugh, “You sure he wasn’t just watching porn or something? Not completely out of line for him.”

Ash elbows him, as if to remind him who he’s talking to, but it’s Lyric who eyes you and responds, “I’m sure that’s all it was Matt.”

Once everyone has boarded the boat to get to the island, you and Calum are given the first drinks and then pulled apart. Lyric pulls you to the side with Sierra. “Cal wore that shirt out last night, didn't he?”

“Huh? I grabbed this out of my bag…” You casually say, pulling it down to look at it.

“Why’re you lying? Of anyone here, you should be able to tell us this,” Sierra points out.

“Because! Regardless of what it is - what Cal and I did or didn’t do - this isn’t about us, this week is for Lyric and Ash.”

“Right… and I want to know what did or didn't happen that wound up with you wearing his shirt,” Lyric coaxes.

You shrug, “We hung out after everyone went to bed last night… you both know that top I was wearing wasn’t that comfortable so he lent me a shirt, he was just being a nice guy.” You look at both of their faces, neither of them buying it. “Guys… Cal and I didn’t break up because someone fucked up… we don’t hate each other. We can still hang out and catch up.”

That seems to placate them for the time being but you’re more than aware of them watching every time you and Calum are within 50 feet of each other. They watch closely as the two of you rub sunscreen on each other all day, or when you sit together at lunch, or lay out together for a while.

Everyone is understandably exhausted when you get back to the hotel. The company that had set up the whole boat/island adventure also provided lunch and took you all to a local restaurant for dinner. All in all, it was a long day.

You kick your flip flops off once back in your room and check your phone, two messages from Cal even though you’d just waved goodnight.

Need a quick shower but do you want to hang after?

Too tired?

You quickly respond, inviting him to your room this time, thinking that you have less of the friend group surrounding you - just Ash and Lyric across the hall and Luke and Sierra sharing a wall - which means less ears listening and easier for Cal to make an excuse of where he’s coming from.

He lets you know when he’s on his way and you prop the door open so he doesn’t have to knock.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you all day,” he greets you.

“You kissed me this morning.” You smile softly, standing up on your toes to kiss him.

Cal flops on your bed and you take him in, beautiful in sweatpants and a t-shirt that he peels off right away. He watches you ogle him. “Again?”

“How dare you come down here in sweatpants and expect anything different,” you tease.

You duck into the bathroom to run the dryer through your hair and Cal nonchalantly calls from the other room, “Ash knows we were together last night.”

You pop your head back out. “What?! How?”

“He went around making sure everyone got back safe. You never answered your door the two times he knocked and he never knocked on mine because he heard you moaning…”

“Oh…” You turn a little red. “Matt heard me too but I told him you were probably watching porn.”

Cal guffaws loudly. “Why was he talking to you about it?”

“Breakfast conversation. Lyric and Sierra were sure something happened.”

Cal shrugs and flips on the TV. “Hey, is this dress what you’re wearing out tomorrow? Please tell me I get to see you in that.”

“You’ll see me at dinner before all the debauchery of the night,” you laugh, joining him on the bed.

“I can’t believe we aren’t together for anything but dinner tomorrow,” he complains, holding out his arm to invite you in to cuddle.

“I can’t believe that in three weeks, Ashton and Lyric will be married,” you murmur, taking him up on his offer and resting your head on his chest.

Cal takes a deep breath. “I’m not ready for our time together to end just like that.”

“I thought we agreed to talk after the wedding.”

“Yeah, we did. But it’s provided this natural way for us to kind of court each other again… things will be different then.”

“Yeah, that’s true… guess we’ll have to put the effort in,” you state.

“Put you in pen again.” He kisses the top of your head. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

“I don’t want you anywhere else.”

———————

Cal pauses at his hotel room door, watching you pass by after lunch, heading down the hall to your own room.

“What are you doing?” He asks, watching you pull out your room key.

“I was gonna take a nap, I’ve had enough sun and drinks for now. What about you?”

“Just about the same, I'm assuming it’s gonna be a long night.”

“Just about, huh?” You tease him and Cal can see the way your tongue twists in your mouth and he knows exactly what that used to mean.

“I’m flexible, ya know… could be convinced to do something else for the right offer,” he winks, feeling his cock twitch in his shorts. He’d give just about anything to have your tongue on him.

“I don’t have an exact offer but I'm sure we could come up with something… we used to be very good at that, you know.” You cock your eyebrow and push the door to your room open.

Cal thinks about your mouth again for less than a second before abandoning his task, quickly moving down the hall to catch your door.

“How was golf?” You ask, pulling your shirt off, revealing a bikini top he’d never seen. He’s distracted by how good your tits look, perfectly sun kissed and perky. You tease him, “Like what you see?”

He loves you with this confidence; he always has, loves when you know and own what you do to him. “Hmm…? Oh yeah... golf was fine. Michael almost flipped a cart.”

“What?!” You laugh. “What’re the guys doing now?”

“Not really sure I care,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you and pulling you in. “There’s only one thing I care about right now. And she’s standing in front of me twisting her tongue in her mouth, knowing what it does to my cock.” He pulls you in for a kiss, and it’s needy and mostly tongue.

“Hmm. And what do you think I should do about that?”

“I love it when you’re a brat,” he groans.

“Well… I have been thinking about your cock since I woke up with it hard and pressed to my ass and you did nothing about it.”

“We woke up late and if we wanted to eat, I had to sacrifice dick time.” Cal wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for an apology kiss.

When you pull away, you bite your lip and run your fingers along the waist of his shorts. You cup his stiff cock. “Are we too busy now?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“No, baby, I think we have plenty of time. Everyone is busy, relaxing… drinking… you and I are here…”

You undo his shorts and tug them down, getting on your knees and Cal quickly wraps his hand in your hair. You take a deep breath and look up at him, running your fingertips over his cock in his underwear. “I’ve always loved how hard you get for me… when the head gets so red and drips for me… how messy we could be…” You pull his boxer briefs down, letting them pool at his ankles while his cock, hard, red-tipped and leaky taps up against his stomach. “I’ve missed this,” you murmur, grabbing the base. You lavish your tongue along the underside, paying special attention to the vein that drives him wild.

Cal tightens his grip in your hair, groaning. You know just how to work him and he knows what to expect from you. Typically. You take a detour, mouthing his cock, covering it in spit. He lets out a very guttural groan when he figures out what you're working at. You suckle his tip for a bit, cleaning up the precum, and then brace yourself on his thighs, working your mouth down his length until it reaches your throat. He feels your slight gag and gently pulls your head back, but you fight it and take him back down.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” he groans. He looks down and meets your tear filled eyes. You pull off long enough to catch your breath and he guides you back on. You gently move your head back and forth shallowly and he gets the point. He pulls your head all the way off his cock and you sputter while spit falls down your chin, a string still attached to his cock. He notes the tears falling down your cheeks and he takes a mental note of how ridiculously hot this is. He guides you back into place and promptly starts fucking your throat. He’s mindful to pull off so you can breathe; besides the occasional throat grab in a really rough session, breath play isn’t really a thing for him. And even then, it’s about the perceived control.

He’s moaning your name like a song. “Good girl… holy shit” is the chorus, and the bridge becomes “That’s it, that’s my girl.” He can’t control it, the orgasm takes over and he’s pulling out of your throat. The amount of cum is too much for your mouth and it starts leaking out, down your chin, dripping onto your tits and stomach. You suckle his tip to make sure you get it all and he pulls his cock from your lips while letting go of your hair. He cups your chin and gives you a little nod, sticking his thumb between your lips. You open your mouth and roll the cum around on your tongue, letting it leak over your lips. He coos, “So good for me, baby… swallow it.”

You do as he asks and then use your fingers to clean up what you can on your skin and Cal pulls his shirt off to wipe your face and anything you missed. He gets on his knees in front of you and leans in for a kiss. He grabs the belt loops on the sides of your shorts and pulls them up, making them taut over your most sensitive areas. He pulls you close, straddling his thigh. He guides your hips in a couple rolls before he determines that it’s the hard, thick seam in the crotch of your denim shorts that’s rubbing against your clit like he wants. His hands move to your ass and he squeezes; your back arches and you let out a little moan as your hips roll on his thigh.

“Show me how bad you want it,” he coaxes.

“Because asking you to fuck my throat didn’t do that?”

Cal grabs your jaw. “Don't be a brat.” He presses his lips to yours and then whispers in your ear, “If you remember correctly, brats don’t get to cum.”

You whimper because you know exactly what he’s talking about. “Sorry, Cal.”

“You’re soaking right through these shorts, huh?” He asks, grin gracing his face. “Bet you’d love it if I just took them off of you and gave you my fingers.”

“Oh god, please, Cal,” you moan.

He leans in, kissing along your jaw to your ear, sucking your earlobe because he knows it drives you wild. “Maybe later tonight… for now, if you wanna cum, it’s gotta be like this.” He takes a second to get your top off and then starts palming and mouthing your tits. He pulls back for a minute to watch you bouncing on his thigh and he swears he could get hard again in an instant if it’d get you bouncing on his cock again. He grabs the belt loops and pulls up again, making sure the fabric stays tight and in place. He runs his hands down your sides to your ass, watching as your head rolls back and you moan for him.

Calum loves seeing you come undone, he loves the peace it brings you and he also likes the way it makes you all about him in that moment. Nothing else in the world matters to either of you. He obviously doesn’t know if you were like that before or If it was just the way you were with him but he prefers to think it’s just him. He keeps his touch firm so you know he’s there while you work toward your orgasm.

He loves the soft little moans you’re currently making. Three months ago he’d give both his arms to hear you chant his name like this again, preparing for the orgasm that’s about to wreck your body. Your head rests on his shoulder as you let out a tell tale whine that he knows well.

“So good for me, baby… love you like this for me,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek, holding you tighter. “So good sucking my cock… so good making yourself cum for me.” He holds the back of your neck, listening as you cum for him, feeling your body slump against his, feeling you pant against his chest. He embraces you, holding you close, something he’s missed so much. He peppers your skin with kisses, letting you catch your breath. “My best girl,” he murmurs, rocking you. He asks after a couple minutes, “Can I get you cleaned up?” You nod and he helps you stand, pulling your shorts and bikini bottoms down to hoist your thigh up over his shoulder so he can lick at your juices. He knows that's not what you were expecting.

He puts your leg down when he’s done and looks up to find you looking down at him. You gently hold his cheek and he leans into it. “I miss you so fucking much,” you admit quietly.

Cal’s on his feet in a second, wrapping his arms around you in a bear hug, smooshing you into his chest. “I miss you,” he hums. “Wanna lay together for a while?”

Without waiting for your answer, he falls onto the bed, pulling you with him. He gets you under the sheet and pulls you into a slow kiss that morphs into a sleepy make out until he spoons you and you fall asleep. He lays awake for a while, wondering if he’s doing right by you. Maybe the physical isn’t good while the emotional is still a mess.

But no, you’d talk to him if that were the case, at least he thinks so. He’s definitely getting a need fulfilled by doing this and not just sexually… but being close to you, having you want and need him in this way. Sleeping next to you the night before was more important to him than anything else. Maybe he didn’t make that clear to you.

He falls asleep for a little while, startled awake by a door slamming down the hall. He’s bewildered to say the least and he checks his phone for the time. He needs to get up and out of this room as soon as possible.

He gently shakes you and makes sure you know he’s leaving. He gets dressed and leans over, leaving you with a slow deep kiss. “Can’t wait to see you in that dress baby.”

———————

Sierra knocks on your door not even ten minutes after Calum leaves. You’re disoriented and still half asleep but manage to haphazardly pull on some clothes on your way to the door.

“Have you even showered? What have you been doing for three hours… or should I say who?” She smirks, pushing her way into your room and looking around. “Luke said he saw Cal come to your room and then he… he heard you guys before coming down to the pool.”

“I don’t know what he thinks he heard…”

“Stop, stop…” She laughs. “Lyric, Ash, Luke and I have allll been pretty sure this has been going on. I just wanna know why you’re keeping it from us?”

You don’t really have an answer for her, so she gives up. “Fine… 20 minutes then Lyric and I’ll be by to get ready. Get your shower. And be ready to talk then,” she warns, somehow both warm and stern. She stops at the door but doesn’t turn around to face you. “You smell like him… like he’s been all over you.”

You take a quick shower and manage to get halfway dressed before they show up, dresses and makeup in tow.

“Details,” Lyric says, falling on your bed.

You play dumb. “For what?”

“For it all.”

“All of what?”

She sighs your name. “I want… dirty details, I want cute details, I want it all,” she announces dramatically.

“Isn’t your sex life rich enough without needing to get into mine, baby girl?” You tease, causing all three of you to giggle.

Sierra pops the bottle of champagne she brought and looks up at the two of you, using an exaggerated bedroom voice, “You wanna do that for me, baby boy?” The giggles turn to cackles at her alluding to the well-known fact between the three of you that she likes to show dominance over Luke in the bedroom.

Once you’ve calmed down you look over at Lyric earnestly. “I just don’t want whatever Cal and I do to take away from you and Ash. So whether we decide to get back together or not, we probably won’t make it public knowledge until later.”

“You two are killing me. You belong together, we all know it… hell, apparently Luke and Ashton have both heard you together this week… which means… Matt probably did too?” Lyric points out.

You finally give in. “Yes, we’ve been together.”

“How many times?” Lyric grills.

“Uhh… that night when we got back from the bars... last night he just slept in here with me but this afternoon we also messed around a bit.”

“See… sexual shenanigans, why are y’all even pretending? Experiment over, get back together. It’s all I want… that’s what I want for my wedding gift.”

“I already bought you a gift. And I know Cal did too.” You laugh. “It was nice to be with him again though. I miss him.” You smile softly at your friends. It’s the first time you’ve said that out loud to anyone other than Cal.

———————

Watching Calum’s face when you and the girls finally make it to dinner is more than worth the trouble of getting ready. As everyone filters into their seats, the one between Cal and Ash gets left open and you know they had to have planned for it.

As you’re getting comfortable in your seat, Cal leans over. “I knew you’d kill in that dress but I was not ready for this,” his deep voice purrs as he looks you up and down. “Can't help but think how good your tits would look covered in cum with that dress bunched at your waist.”

You turn and widen your eyes at him. “Calum,” you warn under your breath.

“What’re you worried about, little one? I’ll get ya too worked up and you’ll be thinking of me all night? I’m gonna be thinking of you,” he hums. “You’ve given me so much to think about… you needy on my thigh this afternoon… my cock in your throat? And now my cum on those gorgeous tits?” He leans back in his seat and joins the conversation on the other side of him, resting his hand just below the hemline of the dress at your thigh.

Sierra is already staring you down from across the table, and Luke seems to be acutely aware of where Cal’s hand is.

Ash smiles, wrapping his arm around you and kissing your cheek, “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you, Ash,” you beam, squeezing his hand. “Single and ready to mingle, ya know? Maybe get some action.” You shrug as Cal gives you a hard squeeze of the thigh but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge your comment.

Ash rolls his eyes and smirks, “Don’t think I don’t know better.”

“I know what you think you know.”

The conversations are nothing short of average but between Cal’s hand, his dirty little nothings whispered in your ear and a few downright raunchy texts, you’re squirming through half of the dinner.

As the bills start coming around and the guys and girls plans for the night start circulating, Cal leans into your ear. “You know you’re mine tonight, right? Flirt if you want but know you’re coming back to me.” His fingers tease the front of your panties.

“As if I could be with anyone else after this afternoon,” you whisper back.

“You think I didn’t know what I was doing, ruining you this afternoon?” He pushes your panties to the side to tease your clit, making eye contact with you, daring you to give him away.

You cock your eyebrow at him. “You think I didn’t get what I wanted?”

Cal’s eyes flick to your lips and you bite your bottom one. “The way your tongue twisted in your mouth? I knew you wanted my cock in your throat,” he responds quietly, grinning.

“I thought I'd get it somewhere else too,” you tease, glancing down at his hand. To make sure you know he gets your point, he teases his fingers at your entrance.

“That’s for good girls… we’ll see if you get it later,” he chides, withdrawing his fingers from your panties and discreetly sucking them into his mouth.

You cradle the back of his neck in your hand and tug his hair, causing his lips to part and the faintest moan to escape. “Oh, Cal, you know I’m the best girl when it comes to you.”

You excuse yourself to the bathroom before everyone departs and Calum is waiting when you come back out. It only takes a second for him to press your back against the wall and press a teasing kiss to your lips. “Can’t wait to see what you put on under this for me,” he murmurs.

He disappears into the bathroom while you wait for your head to stop spinning.

And then the groups split off for the night.

Calum can’t help but watch you walk away when you and the girls head in the direction opposite him. Based on the feel of your panties, he knew you had on either lace or mesh and based on how tight the dress was, he could make a few other guesses about what else was going on. His cock twitches in his pants and he tries to think about the most mundane things to drown out all the deliciously dirty thoughts in his brain. Like getting you naked and spread, begging for him... he loves you like that. He knows he said he wanted to cum all over your tits but now he’s thinking about covering that dress. He’ll pay for the dry cleaning, he doesn’t care. He just wants you covered in him, wants you moaning his name all night.

His phone vibrates in his hand and he looks down, seeing it’s a message from you.

Black lace, like you like, a little dip in the front so you know where to bite to pull down.

He has to stop from groaning out loud and he has to stop Luke from looking over his shoulder as another message pops up.

I should have followed you into the bathroom so you could have done it then… soaked already and I don’t wanna have to take ‘em off myself

He huffs, climbing into the Uber to head to the night’s festivities. He types back:

Keep this up and see what else you’ll have to do yourself

He impatiently taps his knee while waiting for your response.

Only if it’s for you to watch.

Less than an hour in and Cal’s sexually frustrated enough that he’s had to slow down on texting you because he was about ready to stalk out of this club and drag you back to the hotel to deal with those wet panties he can’t stop thinking about. He knows that every message means the night is getting longer and longer and he’s all of a sudden very happy that Ash isn’t a drinker and has every intention of going to bed with Lyric tonight. He picks his phone up, trying to figure out the best way to put into words how badly he wants to own your entire body for the night without it being way too forward.

You glance down at your phone, thinking you’d felt it vibrate. It’s getting late and once the texts from Cal started coming in slower, you felt the night drag. The strip club kept you occupied somewhat but now you were in the VIP section at some random club, and you were just bordering on tipsy, instead just watching the other girls get drunk.

“Who’ve you been texting all night?” Sierra shouts above the music, handing you another drink.

“I wanna know what you and Calum are texting about,” Lyric says, slurring slightly as she plops into the seat next to you.

“How do you know it’s Calum?”

“That dopey little smile. You’ve always gotten it for him, even before you dated,” Sierra grins. “Ugh… finish your drinks, I wanna go back and get railed by my man.”

You and Lyric both chuckle. “And how much coaxing is that gonna take from ol’ baby boy?” You tease.

“Oh, he’ll do it if he knows what’s good for him… maybe I’ll just come to your room for the show though,” she fires back.

“The show will definitely be in my room,” Lyric announces. “Ash is ready, I’m ready, let’s head back for last call at the hotel before we all get laid.” You shake your head as the girls cackle.

As they gather the rest of your group, your phone finally vibrates. You glance down and see it’s from Cal and you squeeze your thighs together before you even open it.

Guess I’m seeing you for last call! But don’t worry, little one, won’t be your last call

You chew your lip as you climb into the Uber, thinking of how to respond but before you can, he hits you with another one.

Your panties were soaked when I touched you earlier. Still the only man that’s ever made you that wet, huh?

You cross your legs and squeeze them together, your tongue twisting in your mouth despite Calum not being around to see it.

Been that wet since you told me you wanted to cum on me earlier... Do you have any idea how desperately I've wanted to feel you on my skin that way?

The minutes you wait for a reply feel like years but he finally comes through. The girls are quiet, staring at their own phones, intoxicated enough to pay you no mind.

Damn, baby girl… I’m in a car with my best friends and I have to keep shifting… squeezing my cock in my pants... wishing you were doing it. I can’t help it. Need you.

God, you’d kill to have him here.

Wish I could feel your hard cock in my hand. I'd do it right here in the car… wouldn’t care who could see.

You lock your phone and shove it in your bag. You’ll be seeing him soon enough and you decide he can be left wanting more.

The guys are all spread across a couple booths in the back of the hotel bar, with Cal and Ash shoved shoulder to shoulder for no reason in the corner booth, farthest away.

As you approach the tables, Ash nearly pushes everyone out of the way to reunite with Lyric, dramatically tipping her head back into a passionate kiss. Luke slinks up to Sierra and redirects her to sit with him at the bar and that leaves you, locked in shy eye contact with Calum.

“This seat taken?” You ask, pointing to where Ash was just sitting.

“No, baby girl… just waiting for the perfect ass, with a skilled, dainty hand to join me.” A sultry darkness settles in his eyes as Cal gives you his deepest possible voice, knowing it’s irresistible to you.

“Think I got what you’re looking for.” You hold up your hands to prove it to him and he nods you to the seat. He does a quick scan of the very few people who could possibly see the two of you before leaning in, pressing the lightest teasing kiss to your lips.

Sierra and Luke suddenly appear, hands full of drinks. There’s a round of shots and a few other larger drinks for those in the group. The shots go down with a group ‘cheers’ and then Lyric is saying goodnight, dragging Ash off to bed with her.

Sierra and Luke find somewhere to dance with some of the other girls and that leaves you alone once again with Cal.

“You know... you said you didn’t care who saw,” he reminds you, taking your hand and placing it on his pants on top of his stiff cock. He gently squeezes your fingers, closing your hand around it.

You bite your lip and lean forward to rest your other elbow on the table, nonchalantly putting your chin in your hand as your fingers trace the outline of his cock. “Oh, sir, I still don’t,” you whisper, turning your head to look at him.

Cal adjusts, sitting back against the booth, spreading both arms out across the back. You glance around before unzipping his pants to tease your fingers over his underwear; he gets impatient and starts to pull his cock out himself. “Stop teasing, baby girl, I’ve been aching for you all night. Thinking of all the ways I could have you… use our favorite belt on you… almost ran out to a toy store earlier…” He groans quietly.

If you weren’t aware before, you definitely are now that Cal wants a kinky night. “I’ve wanted your cock since you pulled it out of my throat earlier,” you tell him with a naughty grin. “Been thinking about the ways you stretch me… get my pussy so soaked you can just slide all the way in.”

Cal trails his fingertips from your neck down to your exposed shoulders and back and finally down to pinch your ass. “Bet you miss me here too.”

“So, so much,” you agree. You pull your hand from his cock to your mouth, licking your palm a couple times before spitting in it. You wrap your slicked up hand around his cock, gently stroking him up and down. You turn your head away from him, taking a drink, scanning the room. Everyone’s having fun and the drinks are flowing but most importantly, no one is interested in what you and Calum are up to.

He sweeps the hair off your neck. “Hey, look at me,” he murmurs. It sounds needy in your ears and you love it.

You turn your head back toward him to see his jaw flexing and nostrils flaring as you twist your wrist in the way he likes. He gently grips the back of your neck and you can hear his breathing become labored as his eyes start to close and his jaw flexes tighter. You swipe your thumb through the precum, teasing his very sensitive head and slit.

He pulls you back against the seat with him. He turns his head, lips against your ear and lets out a filthy moan. “Fuck, baby girl,” he breathes. His hand tightly grips your shoulder and you look under the table in time to see his hips thrust into your hand for the first time. He gets a few more desperate pumps in before he regains a tiny bit of composure. He lets his head roll back and you watch as he comes apart for you in this public space. You know he loves the potential of a set of wandering eyes catching you in moments like this. He wraps his hand around yours just as the first rope of cum shoots from his cock onto your dress; his hand guides yours in milking every last drop, shooting it onto both your dress and your skin.

You watch him pant as he starts to come back down. “You coulda warned me,” you smirk, reaching for the napkins.

He helps you clean the stickiness from your skin but stops you from touching the dress; the stain has already started to dry down white against the dark fabric. “And miss the chance to see you like this, see you as mine?”

Cal’s barely tucked back in his pants as Luke and Sierra approach you. “We’re heading to bed,” she announces.

Cal fakes a yawn, stretching. “I’m beat. I should head off too.” He scoots out of the booth and you glare at him. “C’mon you, I’ll walk you to your room.”

As you scoot out of the booth, Sierra frowns at you, “Hey, what’s all over your dress?!”

You look down and roll your eyes, trying to think of a quick excuse. “Oh… huh, I didn’t notice it before… I bet it was the strip club.” You shrug. “I’ll get it cleaned when we get home.”

Sierra and Luke lead the way to the elevator and Cal wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in to whisper, “So long as no one shines a black light on it, I think you’re fine.”

His grip on you loosens before you all stop to wait for the elevator and you trail far behind them as you walk down the hall to your room. They both throw you a knowing look but disappear into their room, leaving you to slip into Calum’s room without any fuss.

“Better get you out of this dirty dress,” he teases immediately after closing the door. His hands easily find the hidden zipper in the side of the dress. He gets the top down around your hips, getting the full visual of you in your lacy push up bra. “You know you don’t need this, right?” He asks, cupping your breasts, kissing the tops that are pushed up and together. He reaches behind you and unclasps the bra, letting the fabric fall away, replacing it with his hands. “Missed these,” he murmurs, tweaking your nipples between his fingers.

He quickly turns you, backing himself onto the bed, pulling you into his lap to straddle his thighs as his hands and mouth begin worshipping your tits. He’s always loved how responsive you are to this type of stimulation, seemingly able to get impossibly close to orgasming on this alone. As your hips grind on his and you moan his name, a new plan forms in his mind; he wants more of this, doesn’t want it to stop for anything, wants you like this all night.

Calum feels your hand wrap around the back of his neck and you press your face into the top of his head. His hands work quickly to pull the dress up around your hips, wanting to help you get that friction you're desperate for. He’d never let you live it down if you came in his lap again but he’s also not sure he’d remember to tease you about it, both of you so desperate for this connection with each other.

“Calum,” your voice comes out breathy. “I need you, please.”

It sounds so needy, he can't stop himself from bucking his hips up into yours, lips attaching to your skin, tongue teasing your nipples as he roughly grabs at your tits, encouraging you. “Cum for me, baby girl,” he groans. “Let me see you.” He wraps one arm around your back, guiding your hips in a hard but steady rhythm against him, both of you desperate for the orgasm.

And finally it hits, your fingers tighten in his hair and he groans. You yank his head back so you can kiss him and he only teasingly kisses you back. “Calum… please…” you whine, grabbing his face so you can press your mouth to his. He wraps both arms around you, letting you ride it out, kissing you fully.

You pull back, panting, and Calum quickly flips you on your back. He yanks the dress down your legs and quickly takes your heels off, leaving you on the bed in just your panties. He can tell you're still coming down by the way your hands smooth over your body, looking for touch and attention, needing the affection Cal usually lavishes you with after an orgasm, especially one so desperate.

He watches, admiring you, thinking how fucking irresistible you look when you need him so bad. The way you’re so willing to give in to him. He notices the hickies forming on your breasts and he’s proud of them. You’re his and you won’t forget that anytime soon.

He leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, looking you in the eyes to make sure you’re still good. He sees the softness there, the part of you that reaches up to cup his face and push the hair out of his eyes but he also sees the desire and the need for him.

He moves down your body, pressing kisses and sucking bruises into your soft flesh. He kisses the little marks from holding you on his thigh earlier in the day. He gets to the hem of the black lace panties he’s been thinking about all night and kisses along it before grabbing the dip with his teeth and pulling them off your body, like you instructed him earlier. He rips them because they’re flimsy at best and there’s a lack of coordination between the two of you, but when he goes to apologize, he sees the fire of desire reignited in your eyes.

Then he’s out of his button down and his face is buried in your pussy. Long licks over your opening and clit, soft kisses pressed to the sensitive skin; he hums against you, cleaning your cum, giving you fresh hickies on your thighs. You’re moaning above him and suddenly you yank on his hair and he looks up to make eye contact. Your fingers touch his wet cheek and it seems you’re just now noticing his scruff that he intentionally didn’t shave for the past couple days, hoping to get you like this.

He nuzzles his face against your bare thigh and you cry out. He grabs your hips and pulls you back against his mouth, tightening his arms around your thighs and resting his large hands over your belly. He’s active as he eats, wanting to give you the beard burn on already bruised and tender flesh.

His cock starts aching, straining against his tight black pants as you writhe and whine above him, asking for more, begging him for it. You need him, there’s no one in the world you could need more right now and that makes him want to make you cum for him. He starts to dip his tongue into your opening, moving a hand slightly lower to circle your clit. You grip into any skin of his you can reach and he puts pressure on your lower stomach to keep your hips still. He can feel the tinge of pain as your nails dig in and drag across his skin, getting a hold in their new location. His cock starts to leak, he can feel the wet spot it begins to create and it only drives him to give more, to hear more from you, get more from you.

Calum keeps dipping his tongue into you, varying the pressure of the circles he's drawing on your clit and then he can finally feel it, his hand on your stomach detects the orgasm before you do. It hits hard. You breathily moan out his name, over and over and over, and he laps up every trace of your juices his tongue can find. He finally relaxes his grip, pulling away and kissing on each of your red, beard burned thighs, and then up over your stomach. He presses his damp cheek to your chest before kissing the rest of the way to your mouth. You grip into his back as he presses his chest to yours.

“You OK, baby girl?” You run your fingers through his hair and nod. “Good.” He presses a soft kiss to your lips, trying to reassure you that it's still about being together, not just having your body.

He tries to stand up but you don’t let him, holding him even tighter. “We’re not done if you don’t wanna be,” he promises and that seems to get you to relax. He stands and quickly undresses himself. He takes a second to admire you and he watches as you take in his naked form once again. “Such a good girl… a pretty baby for me, huh?” You bite your lip and nod innocently… at least as innocently as you can after the ways he’s already had you.

He climbs on the bed and lays next to you, holding his arm out, letting you decide how you wanna be held. You press your back to his chest and Cal holds you for a few minutes, letting you catch your breath. “Baby girl,” he coos in your ear, gently rocking his hips and hard cock against your ass. You turn your head to him for a kiss and he guides his cock into your pussy, already wet again, able to take his entire length at once.

His fingers drag up your side and smooth over your hair, before he grabs a handful and pulls your head back. “Should have seen how fuckin’ good you looked just now, so desperate you had to cum in your panties,” he groans in your ear. “You feel how hard you’ve got me, pretty baby? Been that hard all fuckin’ night.”

His free hand wraps around your neck and applies light pressure as he shallowly thrusts in and out of you a couple times. He gives a particularly hard thrust and you moan out, grabbing at his arm. He gives your neck a tight squeeze before pulling out completely. “Clean my cock off,” he instructs, letting you go. You quickly shimmy down the bed and take his cock in your mouth. “Clean every trace of you off it.”

You know by his tone of voice that he means business and you shouldn’t try to suck him off but you still wrap your mouth around his head and swirl your tongue around it just to see how he’ll react; your disobedience is met with a light flick to your forehead. You finish the job and his hand closes back around your neck to pull you back to be face to face with him.

He leans in and kisses you aggressively, biting your lips and pressing his tongue into your mouth, trying to get more of your taste from you. His fingers mindlessly wander down your body, inevitably ending up back at your pussy. “Nice and warm for me, huh, baby girl?” He murmurs with a grin. You lean in and start kissing his neck, sucking mercilessly at his skin. His fingers are skilled and know you well, so it doesn’t take any time for him to get you moaning as you mark his neck and collarbone. He knows you're feeling possessive and he loves it.

“Calum… baby. I can’t,” you whine but the way you spread your legs and buck against him tells him a different story. He angles his fingers inside you and your back arches into him, letting out a whimper as you claw into his chest and bicep.

“Sounds and feels to me like you can. So warm and inviting… think you could take another for me,” he rasps, teasing a third finger against your hole.

Your eyes are screwed closed as you nod enthusiastically. “Whatever you want, Cal... please,” you plead. He pushes the third finger in and you gasp.

He smirks, enjoying the show you’re putting on for him. “Damn, gorgeous. All this for me?”

You gently hit his chest with your fist a couple times, “Please, Cal… please.” You beg a few more times, almost in tears, and Cal graciously brings you to orgasm quickly.

He barely lets you rest, immediately pulling you on top of him, bringing you down on his cock and then sitting up to push his wet fingers into your mouth to clean. He presses his lips to yours, letting his tongue explore the taste and then guides your hips in starting a rhythm. You brace yourself on his shoulders and quickly lose the pace. He gives you a squeeze before letting his hands fall to your ass. He watches you, starting to understand just how spent your body is.

He thinks about how much you’ve taken and the way he’s pushed. He grabs your ass and slowly works you up and down his cock. It usually drives you both wild but as you fall against his chest again, he realizes how tired you must be.

“Little one,” he says softly, gently pushing your body slightly away. He waits for your eyes to find his, searches them for what he needs to see. Your eyes are full of hunger, love and adoration for him and not even a hint of discomfort but he wants to hear it directly from you. “Are you good, my love? Should we stop?”

“No, baby, need you… just… you.”

“I’ll get us there, baby,” he promises, pushing your hair off the side of your neck so he can lean in and kiss on it. You tangle your fingers in his hair and gently tug his head back for a needy kiss. “You ready?” He watches you nod and then he lays back, planting his feet on the bed, gripping your hips tightly and starts fucking up into you. It’s hard and a lot, especially on top of what you’ve already done. He watches your tits bounce as you take it, chanting his name. He's grunting as he delivers sharp snap after sharp snap, making his cock go as deep as possible, watching it disappear into you.

When your breathy moans of “Calum” turn into a whiny “baby”, he slows down to assess what you need. You slump against him and he makes a split second decision, flipping the two of you over so you’re on your back. He’s up on his knees and he grabs your thighs, bringing them around his waist; he grabs you around the bottom of your ribs so he can pull you to meet his thrusts and his hips resume their brutal pace.

Calum drops to his forearms as he feels his orgasm get closer. He all of a sudden needs to feel you against him. Your arms wrap around him, nails digging into his back, undoubtedly leaving more marks for him to explain. But he doesn’t care because your eyes are locked on his like he’s the only person in the world, and his name sounds like the only name you’ve ever said as it falls from your lips in little moans.

He’s surrounded by you and it’s all he wants. Your smell, your voice.. just you. It’s all he needs to cum. Your body gives another orgasm and it sends him over the edge, moaning and panting your name. He doesn’t pull out, just collapses on you, rolling you both onto your sides. He holds you tight, waiting for your bodies to relax, pressing light kisses to your forehead for what feels like a lifetime before he finally pulls out.

The two of you get cleaned up wordlessly and you climb back in bed, slipping between the sheets. Calum gets you water, picks both of your stuff up, giving you a few minutes alone. He knows you’ll ask for him when you need him.

As if on cue, your voice softly breaks the silence, “Cal?” He turns and looks at you, you look absolutely spent. “Need you,” you murmur.

He’s quickly sliding into bed and rubbing your back, pressing kisses to your cheeks and shoulders. “I’m right here, my love,” he reassures you, pulling you into him.

You look at him and he can tell you’re thinking over your words carefully. “I love you.”

He cups your cheek, thumb caressing your skin softly. “I love you.”

You sigh and pull yourself even closer to him, nuzzling your nose against his ribs. “Don’t let me go,” you whisper.

And he doesn’t, he can’t… he won’t. Not tonight, probably not ever.

———————

Cal wakes up early and watches you sleep, taking inventory of your naked body and what he can feel on his own. He knows he’s got scratches on his back, he can still feel the way you clung to him, pulling your nails down his back, sinking your teeth in his collarbone. Hickies to match yours on his neck.

He notices the bruises on your hips and hickies that decorate your neck and chest and he knows he left some between your thighs. He notices a slight purpling around the bottom of your ribs as well and he begins to feel bad for manhandling you so much.

Your back arches into him briefly before you roll over onto your back and your eyes find him. “Hi,” you murmur, small smile gracing your lips.

“Hey.” He grins back, letting his hand softly sweep across your skin. You lean up for a soft kiss that he returns. “We don’t have anything today until that bonfire with everyone… I was thinking we should get breakfast and talk.”

“OK,” you nod. “People are gonna know you have someone in here when we leave the tray out though.”

“I really don’t care,” he admits, shrugging. He reaches over for the room service menu and the two of you decide on a few things to share. He calls for it and the two of you lay snuggled together, only getting up when the food comes. Cal pulls on sweatpants and you pull on his button up from the night before. He sets you up at the table in the suite.

After a few minutes of eating you finally look up, putting your fork down to take a sip of the coffee in front of you. “What’s up bubba?” You ask, noticing he’s looking at you.

He sighs. “I wanna make sure I’m doing right by you. I know we aren’t together anymore… and I hate that, but I still wanna be my best for you and do what’s best for you. We’ve been pretty physical this week. And that’s… it’s been great for me on that front but it just reminds me what all is missing between us.”

You chew your lip for a minute. “I want… whatever I can have, to be honest… I miss you, every facet of being with you. And this week is just like... a suspension of real life. I need to be close to you and if that’s just being naked together then so be it.”

Cal shakes his head instantly, reaching across the table to grab your hand. “I know you wanna wait to talk about getting back together. I get that you don’t want to take away from Ash and Lyric, they’re our best friends and I respect that. But baby, I love you. And I don’t want to keep doing this if there’s a chance we aren’t doing it long term. If that means I have to figure out how to prioritize you better, then I will. But I need to know that’s what you want… not just being naked. I really think we can get back together without telling everyone until we get home and it’ll be like… forgotten by the time the wedding rolls around in a few weeks.”

Calum nearly loses it when you start giggling and he stares at you in disbelief.

“Bubba… baby boy… I’m sorry for laughing.” You cover your mouth and wait a bit longer until you calm down. You get up from your chair and move across the space to sit in his lap. You sigh, “Love. You think you ever would have gotten what you did on this trip if I was just here for sex? I still trust you, Cal. I still love you, I still want you. That’s not gone. We needed time away to realize what the deeper issue is. But I think we can work this out.”

“Me too, baby,” he says, relieved, pulling you in for a kiss, relaxing now that he knows you’re on the same page.

#calum hood #calum smut #5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #5sos #5 seconds of summer #even if it's just pretend #no one has to know what we do #you'll see me in hindsight #eiijp #cass #he's so tall and handsome as hell #wildest dreams #smut #cass+crystal

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immersed-in-mischief · 2 years

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The Choices We Make ( Tom Hiddleston x OFC) Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

Chapter 6

Cassidy didn’t take much convincing to accept Tom’s offer of moving into his home. By the end of the week, Ashley had arrived to visit her and Little Bean in London and she caught her best friend up on the latest development.

“Are you really going to stay in the guest room, Cass? The man already made it known that he never planned on breaking things off with you and it was a misunderstanding. What’s the problem?”

Cassidy continued to pack the box she was working on at the moment.

“Moving in together as a couple is a big step, Ashley. Even those that date longer than we did still hesitate to make the leap into that step. We’re not even a couple. We’re just two people who relied too heavily on my birth control pills. Obviously, it makes me feel better to know that I wasn’t a short-term arrangement for him, but it still doesn’t change the fact that we aren’t a couple right now, Ash. Even if Tom had asked to give us another chance, there is even more at stake now. What if we do get back together and it ends terribly between us? We have a baby to consider now. Things are good between us right now and he clearly asked me to move in as a coparenting arrangement. If it wasn’t his intention, he wouldn’t have offered me the guest room.”

Ashley took the now filled box from her and handed her an empty one before taping it closed and stacking it with the others across the room.

“That may be the case, but do you wish you were sharing his bed instead?”

She sat down and took a break on the couch and rubbed her sizeable bump. It was starting to become impossible to hide it behind baggy clothing now and most of the cast and crew had caught on to her secret over the last few weeks of the show. With a few weeks off before makeup trials started on the set of her latest project, she was going to have to do some serious shopping for a bigger wardrobe.

“I honestly don’t know, Ash. My feelings for Tom never changed and I still feel like I love him, but it’s complicated. I’m certainly a lot more cautious this time around. The pain I felt when it all fell apart for us is still there for me. It’s going to take time to adjust my line of thinking after believing for so long that he didn’t feel the same about us. Obviously in my ideal world, we would have never broken up and would most likely be living together under different circumstances. This isn’t my ideal world and there’s a lot to consider. Things are good between us for now. I don’t want to risk ruining that before the baby even gets here.”

A knock on the door signaled the end of the conversation.

“It’s open!”

The ladies both turned their heads and smiled at Tom as he let himself in. Quickly spotting Cassidy on the couch, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head before making his way over to offer Ashley a hug.

“You’re supposed to prevent her from wearing herself out, Ash. We had a deal.”

“I know the rules, baby daddy. No heavy lifting, but good luck keeping the pregnant woman from packing.”

A pillow from the sofa hit Tom in the back and he pulled away from the hug to shoot her a look.

“Said pregnant woman can hear you and doesn’t appreciate being discussed in the third person, baby daddy 1 and 2. Plus I believe I was promised food before our appointment.”

Tom made his way around the coffee table and offered her his hands to lift her from the couch. Once she was standing, he smiled at her and caressed her cheek before giving her a hug of her own.

“Yes, dear. What do you say we take Ashley to the deli for lunch?”

At the mention of the deli she had frequented over the last few weeks since he first took her there, she headed straight for her purse before heading towards the front door.

“I believe that’s our cue to feed her.”

Ashley laughed and followed him to the door.

The deli lived up to the hype and Cassidy was happy to see her best friend enjoy the place nearly as much as she and Tom did. Now that she was officially finishing out her pregnancy in London, the two of them had found a doctor they both trusted and Ashley was thrilled to be able to join them at her latest appointment. This one was the anatomy scan visit with an extended look at Little Bean. It felt special to be able to share the moment with both of them.

Even though she would have preferred to return home for a nap, the girls drug Tom along for a shopping trip to stock up on another round of maternity clothes. Ashley was quick to search the racks for options she knew Cassidy would like and Tom kept her company from outside the dressing room and offered his opinion when asked. Of course he liked her in everything, but made sure to really make his thoughts known when an item seemed to showcase her baby bump in a way he was proud of and flattered her expanding figure. By the end of the trip, she had a few pairs of leggings to get her through the warmer months, as well as a few necessities and bathing suit options. Most of the items in the shopping bags being carried by Tom were flowy dresses in case Cassidy preferred easier options that kept her cool and comfortable.

The three of them made their way back to Tom’s house where Ashley was able to see the potential nursery and the rest of the home Cassidy was moving into at the end of the week. Tom had insisted on cooking dinner for them and making sure she put her feet up and relaxed instead of helping like she had wanted.

Before she knew it, the end of Ashley’s visit had come and moving day was here. Cassidy had made sure the boxes were ready to be loaded in the truck and was being shoved out the door by both Ashley and Tom. Benedict had been generous enough to offer his assistance, along with a few of their other friends. Since the apartment had been furnished, they had been lucky as far as furniture was concerned.

By the time the ladies returned from their afternoon of pampering set up by Tom himself, her boxes were unloaded into the house and the keys to her flat had been handed over.

“I see the boys have already started rewarding their hard work with alcohol.”

Upon hearing her voice over his shoulder in the backyard of his home, Tom quickly stood to greet her. The fact that he was always so excited to see her made her happier than she thought was possible.

“How was your massage, darling? Were they able to help with your hips at all?”

He pressed his lips lovingly to her forehead and rested his hand against the bump that filled the space between them. The bigger it grew, the more she noticed that his touch seemed to gravitate to it when he was close to her. She didn’t mind the affection from him though.

“They did. Thank you for that, by the way. A beer of my own would certainly make this day even more relaxing though.”

Tom rolled his eyes and returned to his seat beside Ben while taking a swig from the bottle in his hand.

“Nice try, love. I know for a fact that beer is on the list from the doctor. I was listening.”

Ashley’s last night in London was spent relaxing and laughing with them in Tom’s backyard over pizza and beer for everyone that wasn’t pregnant. It was sad to see her go the next morning, but it was exciting to know that the next time she came to visit, the baby would be arriving.

After seeing her off to the airport, Cassidy laid down for a nap upstairs in her room while Tom took the chance to get some work done before dinner. He was so engrossed in his upcoming script that he hadn’t heard her step into the study until she was reading over his shoulder.

“Ready for a break?”

The way he jumped seemed to scare her as well and they shared a good laugh over it.

“I suppose I better get use to someone else being in the house with me. It’s been a long time since I had someone around this often.”

“Well it’s too late to change your mind, Thomas William. You’re stuck with us now.”

He took her hand and placed a kiss against it before setting the script aside.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Cass.”

Still tired from sleep, she leaned against the back of his chair and played with his hair as he answered a couple of emails on his cell. For the first time, she paid attention to the title of the film on the copy of the script he had been reading.

“Crimson Peak. I didn’t realize that was the movie you were working on. Did you tell me that?”

He set the phone down and picked the script back up as he gave her a strange look.

“I thought I did. I suppose it may have slipped my mind.”

“Well, you’re looking at your Lead Artist for Hair and Makeup. That’s the movie I accepted a contract for last week. It looks like we get to work together again. If you’re playing the role that I suspect you are, I’m going to have so much fun giving you a facial wound!”

His unique laugh filled the room, and he pulled her close to his side as he wrapped his arms around her.

“You’re looking at your Thomas Sharpe. Why am I not surprised that you’re excited to put a knife in my cheek. You live for this kind of stuff! I guess you can handle dying my hair black as well then.”

“It’s either that or we do the Loki wig again.”

He groaned at the thought of gluing the creature to his head again so soon.

“Dye it, Cass. I’ve been growing my hair out for a reason. Let’s keep it simple.”

The next day, Tom was in the kitchen doing the dishes when he heard the motion sensor at the front gate chime through the house. The sound immediately made him smile at what it signaled.

His Cassidy was home.

A short minute later, he heard the front door open and her sweet voice call out to him.

“Ohhhh Tommmmmy!”

“Ohhhh Casssiiiieee!”

Following the sound of his voice, he heard the kitchen door swing open behind him and the rustling of bags being set on the kitchen table.

“I trust you brought the Jag back in one piece?”

He felt a set of arms around his waist and a bump press into his lower back.

“Mostly. I’m sure they can buff out the scratches.”

When she didn’t laugh or say anything else, he glanced over his shoulder at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Kidding. Chill out, Hiddleston. I know that car is your baby.”

Without looking, he reached back and placed his hand against the bump currently pressed against him.

“The Jaguar is just a car and can be easily replaced. Thisis my baby.”

Moving to reach for her hand, Tom gave it a squeeze.

“And you, my darling, are just as important. Do what you wish with the car as long as the two of you are safe.”

Cassidy was quiet for a moment and Tom continued to finish washing the dishes in the sink in front of him. When he was just about done, he felt her slip around him until she had herself pressed between him and the sink, ducking underneath his arm so she was being hugged by him. He chuckled at the sweet affection she was showing him and was glad to have long arms in this moment so he could hold her against him while still completing his task. Resting his head on top of hers, he swayed them back and forth while rinsing the final plates. After pulling the drain from the sink and grabbing the towel beside him to dry his hands, he stared down at the woman in his arms and felt completely at peace in this moment with her.

“Someone appears to be extremely cuddly today.”

She looked up at him and rested her chin against his chest.

“That’s not a problem, is it?”

Tom tucked the hair out of her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead before wrapping his arms tightly around her to keep her against his chest, at least as best he could with her growing belly between them. His voice was a soft whisper as he continued to relax against her.

“Not a problem at all, love. I could hold you like this all day.”

For the next several minutes, Tom gently swayed the two… three, of them back and forth in the kitchen as he continued to shower her with affection and occasional kisses on top of her head. If the woman he loved needed him to hold her and this was the most he was able to give her right now, then he was going to savor this moment as long as possible.

“If you keep doing that, you’re going to rock me to sleep, Thomas.”

“Would that honestly be such a bad thing, Cassidy? I’m sure you are tired from your errands today and I wouldn’t be opposed to taking a nap with you on the couch if that was something you were interested in.”

The sound she made into his chest could only be described as a combination of a sultry moan and a growl. It both made him laugh and turned him on slightly.

“Maybe later. We have work to do.”

She reached up and squeezed his cheeks before blowing him a kiss and slipping passed him to head for the bags she had placed on the table behind him.

“Work? On a Sunday afternoon?”

Tom turned just in time to see her pull out numerous beauty products, specifically a bottle of black hair dye.

“Your bathroom or mine, Hiddleston?”

“I suppose mine, love. There’s more space for you to move around. What do you need me to do?”

Cassidy grabbed the items from the table and headed for the stairs in the hallway.

“Just drag a kitchen chair upstairs with you. I need to change clothes and grab some supplies from my boxes in the spare room. I’ll meet you there in a few.”

“You’re the boss, love.”

She called back over her shoulder as she exited the room with a pep in her step.

“Good answer!”

Tom was sitting in the kitchen chair in his bathroom playing on his phone when she appeared in the doorway in front of him. He hadn’t expected to look up to find her standing there in a small pair of shorts and a sports bra and nothing else. While it was nice to see her bump on full display, he hadn’t realized until that moment just how much her breasts had begun to change with her pregnancy. Of course, it was obvious to him that they had appeared larger than before, but her clothes had always been fairly modest and still left plenty to the imagination. In just a slightly too small sport bra, the cups were running over and were currently giving him a magnificent view of her ample cleavage. He swallowed hard and tried to prevent himself from staring too long by returning his attention to the phone in his hand.

“Strip.”

He nearly dropped the device in his hand at the command she gave him.

“I beg your pardon?”

Cassidy was now standing next to him as she placed a few previously stained towels down on the counter beside him, along with the supplies she had purchased earlier in the day.

“I’m good, but not that good. This is the darkest hair dye the supply warehouse had. It’s going to stain that shirt if he gets on it. I need your shirt off and in clothes that can get ruined if the dye splatters or drips at all.”

Now understanding her logic, he excused himself and headed for his closet in the other room.

“Put on those joggers with the hole in the leg! I hate those things!”

He reappeared a minute later wearing the sweatpants she was referring to and nothing else. Now Cassidy was the one who was slightly distracted.

“I’ll have you know that these are the most comfortable lounge clothes that I own. I wear them often for a reason, darling.”

Tom helped her place the towels on the floor under the chair since she was beginning to struggle with bending over. With him adjusting the towels to make sure the tile floor was well protected, she began to mix the chemicals in her hands and shaking up the bottle of midnight black hair dye.

“I can tell. At least you don’t wear them out in public. I would have to pretend you were a stranger if we were seen together.”

She handed him a towel as he sat back down in the chair and motioned for him to wrap it around his shoulders. He was glad to now have his back towards the mirror. The motion of her shaking that bottle in her hand was making it impossible for him to focus on anything else in the room other than the movement of her chest behind the tight fabric.

“I’ll remember that next time you wear that old tshirt with the tears down the side.”

“That shirt is from the first concert Ashley and I attended together when I first moved to Cali and those tears are there for a reason. It was designed to be worn with a tank underneath it to peak out from the slits down the sides of my ribs, thank you very much!”

He allowed her to lean him back against the sink as she began to spread what appeared to be a vaseline- like substance on his hairline and ears.

“Are the various stains part of the design as well?”

Cassidy playfully smacked his chest before leaning him forward to continue spreading the substance along the hairline on his neck.

“Those are just a casualty from work. If still fit right now, I would be wearing it to do your hair. I’m afraid if I tried to wear it right now, this bump might make those slits on the sides spread around to the front as well!”

With her leaning over to reach the back of his head, her beautiful baby bump was directing in his face.

“I might have to take advantage of that and make it disappear before it fits again.”

In a playful mood, he leaned forward and blew a raspberry on her belly without thinking about the consequences of his actions first. The second he blew on her bump, making the loud noise, Cassidy jumped and grabbed her stomach, nearly dropping the hair dye in her hand.

“Thomas William! You scared them!”

“Awww, Daddy’s sorry little one. I didn’t mean to startle you. No loud noises on the belly. Got it.”

He reached up and rubbed her belly and left a few kisses on it. When she returned to her task and started applying the dye to his hair, he absentmindedly reached up and continued to caress her belly in front of him.

“What does it feel like, Cass? When our baby moves?”

She set the bottle down and grabbed a rag to clean up a drip on his hairline while thinking about her answer.

“In the beginning it was like a small flutter. I wasn’t even sure if I was really feeling them or not. It was like a nervousness in my stomach. The farther along I get, the more pronounced it becomes. If I’m really still, I swear I can start to feel arms and legs stretching out sometimes. Occasionally when they are particularly active, I can feel the kicks from the outside, but it’s hard to be sure when I can feel them inside as well. Just now when you scared them, I felt a huge sudden movement. I guess that means they are starting to be able to really hear noises outside the womb. According to the books I’ve been reading, that means the baby will start to recognize voices other than my own soon. It’s kind of incredible when you think about it.”

The thought that their child would be able to recognize his voice soon filled him with pride. He was still amazed every single day that he would be holding a baby of his very own in a few short months.

“It really is incredible. I can’t wait to feel them kick and move and interact with them. Would you mind if I read to your bump to get them used to sound of my voice?”

She stopped her work to look down at him with a smile on her face.

“I wouldn’t mind at all, Tom. I want you to be able to feel as involved as you can. How about next time they are extremely active and I think I feel them kicking, we can start to see if you can feel it too. How does that sound?”

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the sink and relaxed.

“That sounds perfect… do you think we are making the right choice to wait to find out the gender? It feels strange to constantly call the baby them and it all the time.”

She leaned him forward once more to continued to outline the edge of his hairline on the back of his head.

“I still go back and forth on it, but I’m still excited about being surprised at the birth. You were right before. It doesn’t change anything for me whether we have a son or a daughter. I am still perfectly fine continuing to buy gender neutral clothes and doing the nursery in gray and white like we talked about. If we decide to add more color after the baby is here, then we can. Afterall, it’s just a room for them to sleep in. Plus, for the first few weeks, I’m sure they will sleep in the bedroom with me anyways.”

He opened his eyes to look up at her.

“Why is that?”

“Well, the more I’ve been thinking about it, I think I want to try breast feeding. It may be difficult when going back to work, but at least I have a job that makes it a little easier to take a baby with me to set. If I’m the one feeding them throughout the night, I’m not going to want to go back and forth across the hall every few hours. It makes more sense to keep them in a bassinet by my bed. Maybe even have a changing table set up in there, too.”

Now that the hairline was done, Tom felt her start to massage the hair dye through the rest of his hair. The idea crossed his mind to have her wash his hair sometime with how amazing it felt to have her nails dig into his scalp.

“I guess I just assumed I would be able to help out with the baby during the night so it’s not all on you, love. Since the nursery is directly in between both our rooms, it seemed like it would be easier to hear when the baby wakes up. That’s a little harder to do when they are in your room. Plus, I feel like I would be invading your privacy by slipping into your room in the middle of the night.”

“I get that, but you will also still be filming, Tom. You will need your rest. I don’t want to have to work harder on your makeup to cover up the bags under your eyes from you not sleeping. I appreciate you wanting to help at night, but you still have work to think about.”

With her now finished applying the dye, she set the timer on the counter beside her and slipped off her gloves and cleaned up her mess while his hair was processing. He couldn’t help but notice her rubbing her lower back as she moved about the bathroom.

“Come here, Cass. Trade me places.”

She turned to see him now standing and pointing to the chair he had been occupying. The confused look on her face made him give her further instructions.

“Sit down with your back to me. Face the counter. Let me help you, darling.”

Now understanding his intensions, Cassidy straddled the chair and rested her arms against the counter behind it. Over her shoulder, she watched as Tom sank down to his knees in the bathroom floor so he was kneeling behind her. The second his thumbs started to dig into the sore muscles of her lower back, she melted into his touch and rested her head on her arms. His resolve was slipping the longer he allowed himself to touch her exposed skin on her back and hips. The soft whines and moans she let slip when he reached a particularly sore spot only made his current situation worse. He hoped that a careful adjustment and towel placement would be enough to hide his predicament from her once it was time to wash out the hair dye. He hadn’t been intimate with another woman since Cassidy and still very much found himself attracted to her. The thought of her carrying his child only seemed to fuel the desire he felt for her. If only they had never ended up apart so he could show her just how much he truly loved and appreciated her in all the ways he longed to.

“Your hands have magic in them. I’m sure the sore muscles will only get worse the bigger I get.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her back and smoothed his palms over her hips to her sides and back to her spine.

“Round ligament pain, my love. Your body has to stretch and grow with our little one. I’ve been reading the books as well.”

“Well, keep reading the books if this is the treatment I get.”

Tom couldn’t help but laugh and let his head fall forward against her back.

“As you wish, darling. I am here to assist you in any way I can. If it provides you relief while carrying our child, I would gladly give you nightly back rubs for the rest of your pregnancy.”

At the offer of nightly back rubs, Cassidy’s head shot up and she looked at him in the mirror in front of her. Her eyes narrowed at him to make sure he was serious.

“Don’t let your mouth write checks those magical hands can’t cash, Hiddleston. I might make you regret those words by the end of this.”

She reached out and turned the timer towards her and sighed. Tom watched her reach back and pat his arm before moving to stand up from the chair.

“Your baby wants chips and salsa from downstairs. I’ll be back in a few. Don’t get hair dye on anything while I’m gone. You’ll have to remodel the bathroom to get rid of it.”

While she was moving to stand, he took the opportunity to stand first and turn to face the vanity in an attempt to hide his situation until she left the room. Once he heard her feet hit the stairs in the hallway, he took the opportunity to adjust the front of his sweatpants and desperately tried to think of anything other than the feel of her skin or any other memories that was burned into his thoughts from their time together that could have led to the conception of the baby she was growing.

After a few minutes when she didn’t return, he felt the need to go check on her. Cassidy was seated at the kitchen table with a bowl of salsa and chips in front of her while she browsed the takeout menu in front of her. From over her shoulder, Tom glanced to see where her cravings were leading them for dinner that night.

“Has our little one decided on Chinese this evening, Cass?”

She rubbed her stomach as if it was a Magic 8 ball and hummed in thought.

“We’re still discussing. The possibility of pizza and buffalo wings is still on the table.”

Tom took a chip and dipped it in the salsa before making his way over to the pantry. In the last few weeks, he had begun to unravel the inner workings of her cravings and had started quite a collections of random items during his visits to the market.

“What part of it is intriguing to you, Cass? The spiciness of the wings or the cheese from the pizza?”

When she didn’t answer, he turned to find her leaning back with her eyes closed, deep in thought over his question. He patiently waited until she had formulated the answer to his question.

“Spicy, I think. Even though the heartburn will be killer later tonight. Although… I could go for steamed dumplings and stir fry veggies. They need a buffet for pregnant women that contains samplings of all the types of food. I would have that place on speed dial.”

Tom reappeared from the pantry with a few bottles in hand and set them down on the table in front of her.

“I do have buffalo sauce if that is what you wish for specifically. However, I also have Siracha that will pair well with the Chinese food if that is what you decide for dinner this evening. I have antiacids that are on the safe medication list from the doctor for said heartburn that is sure to follow your selections.”

Tears formed in her eyes and Tom could only chuckle and sigh. He was quickly adapting to her nearly daily misty eyes over something ordinary and learned that it usually passed just as quickly as it arrived. Leaning in the floor beside her, he turned her chair towards him and brought her hand to his lips.

“Do you want to talk about it, love, or let it pass?”

He was happy to see that she was at least smiling at him. The angry or sad tears he had see on occasion was slightly more difficult to work with.

“You’re just really sweet, Tom. How did I get so lucky with you?”

Cassidy watched as he smiled back at her and stood to pull her up from the chair. After wrapping his arms around her to hug her against his still bare chest, he kissed the top of her head and swayed her back and forth in the middle of the kitchen.

“I could argue that I am the lucky one, Cassidy. Surely managing all the changes taking place inside your body just to keep our child happy is more difficult than I will ever know. It’s going to take me some time to catch up, but I’m willing to put in the effort to help you navigate as best I can, sweetheart.”

With her arms still wrapped around him, she looked up at him with a content smirk on her face.

“It really is hard sometimes, but I can’t wait to meet this baby and I can’t wait to be a parent with you, Thomas William. Thank you for trying to keep up with my cravings and mood swings, even when you don’t understand them sometimes.”

He kissed her forehead and squeezed her a little tighter.

“You are so very welcome, my sweet Cass. I’m also excited to meet our child and couldn’t imagine a better mother for them. We’ll figure it all out and we’ll do it together, darling. Firstly, have you made a decision on dinner?”

“Full English breakfast?”

Tom sighed and rested his forehead against hers, trying to contain his laughter at the adorable way she was giving him puppy dog eyes.

“Breakfast for dinner is it, dear. What do you say we wash this dye out of my hair and I’ll cook you a full English breakfast with the works?”

“Deal.”

Tom followed her up the stairs back to the master bathroom, thankful for the chance he had been given the entire way there.

Choices:

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All posts:

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darkorderaf · 3 years

Note

125,26 drabble (if possible smut) with OC🍊

Ty if you do this i love your works ♥️

Ooooh, yes! Thank you so much for the kind words. <3 I did indeed make it spicy; hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Orange Cassidy x OFC. Prompts: “Save some for me.” “Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep. Wait…are you…what?!” Rating: M. Warnings/Content: Smut! Word Count: 1,981.

(I don’t own gif; credit to hanakimura!)

Sharing a room with Orange Cassidy was relatively uneventful. He functioned off of keeping it casual, taking it easy. And she did too, for the most part. Her and Cass had always been close, even from the early days. She would go so far as to call him one of her best friends and he would just nod if he ever got asked about it.

She didn’t know when the change happened, when her completely platonic thoughts shifted to something decidedly not in the same lane. Or area code.

Maybe it was the time the both of them had way more shots than they should have and they shared the same bed. Completely platonically, of course, but they had never shared a bed before then. When she woke up the following morning, hungover and mouth dry as a desert, she felt him stir under her. His skin was against hers, the lean muscle of him both relaxed yet firm. His hand on her hip.

Her leg had been tossed over his trim waist, her head comfortably in the crook of his shoulder. She didn’t know what to do. Both of them slept in their underwear regularly and they had seen each before in just that, it wasn’t weird. They were just that comfortable with each other. But this was...different. All she could do was stare at him in quiet horror. Horror that dissipated into a heat-driven appreciation as she looked at him. The v of his slim hips, the defined muscles that contracted with each breath, the perfect stubble that framed his perfect mouth. She wondered at how he felt against her and under her, then wondered about him maybe even on top of--

She had pulled away from the proverbial stovetop that was Orange Cassidy and fled to the bathroom.

Oh no.

Her best friend was hot.

They never talked about it. Ever since then, she tried to keep it casual. Take it easy. Tried to ignore the way her heart raced at the sight of him or how she had to press her thighs tight together when she stood outside the ring, being the supportive best friend that she was. They still shared a room and they kept their separate beds. That worked just fine, just what they were used to. She chalked it up to a brief wave of hormones and that was it. She was totally fine and totally not thirsting after her best friend.

Jokes on her, her brain had different plans.

Not but a day later, the dreams started.

The ones where Orange pulled her in the ring and taught her a different kind of submission. Or showed her how to turn it back around on him. The ones where he caught her pleasuring herself and told her “save some for me” before he took her slick fingers into his mouth like it was the easiest thing. The ones where they fit together so well, she woke up with her toes curled and a silent scream of pleasure in her throat. The ones where he slipped his sunglasses onto her as she rode him, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watched her breasts bounce.

All they were were dreams and when she woke up, she took care of herself in the shower and did her best to shove it to the farthest corner of her brain. It was entirely inappropriate and he was her best friend and he totally didn’t see her that way. She pushed the way that made her heart inexplicably clench and ache to the back of her mind too.

A squeaky hotel bed frame narced on her.

She was in a deep sleep, her mind back in that dreamscape where she opened up for Orange and he murmured to her. Murmured to her how good she felt, how he could feel her squeezing him when he fucked into her just right. How they should have done this ages ago and she moaned in agreement.

Orange was a heavy sleeper. Everyone knew that. But it could take him longer than the average bear to fall asleep. Especially when he listened to the way his best friend thrashed in the opposite bed and the bedframe wouldn’t stop squeaking. Was it a nightmare? She seemed to be having a lot of those lately. Sometimes he heard his name. His dreams were getting more intense too. He never asked about hers and never brought up his. Maybe he should have.

He rolled onto his side to look at her. Her sheets were halfway down her body and sweat made her shirt cling to her torso. He ignored the way he could make out the silhouette of her hard nipples, instead focused on the way she breathed and how her face contorted. Tried to ignore the way he could feel himself getting hard just at the sight of her so breathless.

He didn’t know when that had started. Maybe when she pressed herself right against him that night they got too drunk and mouthed sleepily against his neck that she loved him, that he was her best friend and she was so lucky to have him for a best friend. Pressed against him so tight he could feel all of her. He didn’t look at her like a best friend when the morning light started to bleed into their room. He felt awful for it and when she shot out of the bed in the morning, he thought he might be able to breathe easier about it. It was just a one-off flash of hormones.

Who was he kidding?

“Hey,” he called. She didn’t respond. He shoved the sheets off his body and threw his legs over the side. Maybe they could switch beds or he could talk her out of her nightmare. He stood up with a sigh and crossed the small space between their beds. His hand hovered over her bare shoulder. “Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Cass…”

The sound of her heated, desperate voice shot straight to his groin and he bit the inside of his cheek.

“Right here. You’re loud. Are you ok--” He paused when his eyes ran over her body. Traced the path of her arm under her sheets and the movement that disturbed the sheets over her. Hear the sound of slick as she worked herself. Heard the way she begged him please. Oh fuck. “Wait...Are you...What?!”

His hand went to her shoulder, squeezed it, and that snapped her out of her trance. That and his raspy panic. They stared at each other in the dim light of the hotel room, their eyes wide and chests heaving. She slipped her hand out from under the blanket and he nearly groaned at the sound of her panty’s elastic waistband snapping against her skin. The dim light caught the slick on her fingers and they continued to stare at each other.

She wanted to vanish. Maybe call Freddy Krueger to pull her through the mattress and murder her because fuck, how were they going to get past this?

“Cass, I’m so sorry,” she fumbled out, unsure of what to do with her hand or the brink of orgasm she was quickly pulling away from. Her eyes burned in embarrassment and frustration. He knew. He totally fucking knew. “I can get a different room and we can just avoid each oth--’

“I have them too,” he said, far more calm than she was. She blinked at him. “Wet dreams.”

“Cass, this is different. This is weird and gross and god, how can you look at me?”

“About you,” he sat down and the mattress squeaked. His desperate, breathy, frustrated tone froze her. “They’re about you.”

In a moment of panic, she tried to wipe her hand off on her shirt but Orange’s long fingers around her wrist made her pause. He muttered don’t and leaned forward. Didn’t break eye contact with her as his lips hovered over her skin.

“Can I taste you?”

His question burned straight through to her pussy and she clenched her thighs. His words stunned her. All she could do was nod. Slowly, his tongue prodded her slick fingers and wrapped around the digits as he pulled them into his mouth. He took his time cleaning her fingers and when he was finished, he sat back up.

“That was one,” he said, his voice strained. She watched how he palmed himself through his pajama pants and she tried to sit up. Pink stained his cheeks, his neck. Made his lips all the more appetizing. “There’s been...a lot.”

“Do you…” She paused. It was hard to breathe. “Should we, um, talk about them? The dreams.”

“Nah,” he said. Orange offered her his hand and she took it. He pulled her over to his bed, one hand on her ass and the other on her hip. His heavy tone, accentuated by his heavy-lidded eyes and the way his hands slid under her shirt to feel her hot skin, convinced her. Left her worries in a pile of ash. “Wanna show you.”

He took his time pulling her to him. Took his time learning her lips, mapping them out with his own. The bed was quiet when he pushed her thighs apart and tasted her fully. She sighed his name, almost screamed it when his fingers slid inside her and crooked just right. He liked the sound of it. His lips on her felt right. He kissed the inside of her thighs as her muscles twitched. He sat back on his heels and looked at her, glowing and sweat-slicked because of him. It was a different kind of glow than the one she got when he made her laugh, when they talked late at night, when they sat by each other at the bar with the boys and giggled over inside jokes.

When he finally slid inside her, heavy and hot and perfect, they groaned in unison. Her fingers anchored themselves in his hair and her thighs made a home around his hips. Shifted back and forth with him as he pumped in and out of her. He wasn’t known for being talkative but that night, he couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t, wouldn’t, stop praising her. Wouldn’t stop telling her how fucking good she felt, how they should have done this before, how dreams weren’t shit compared to that moment. Her walls fluttered tight around him and he swore.

“Cass, I’m close,” she whined. “Please, please.”

His head fell to her shoulder and his fingers to her aching clit.

“Come on, come on,” Orange gasped out, sweat dripping from his hair and pale chest flushed. “Wanna come with you.”

Her hips bucked against him and her back arched. She squeezed him impossibly tight and he was done for. With another heavy thrust, he came with her and the pulse of him inside her coaxed a filthy moan out of her. He swallowed it with his mouth, their tongues searching for each other in a mess of spit and low moans that was their first kiss. The last shudders of him passed and his forehead fell to her shoulder. Her fingers threaded through his blonde hair and he picked his head up to search her face. Were they just desperate? Where would they go after this? She seemed to read that in his eyes and her post-bliss smile comforted him.

“That was one of mine,” she whispered to him. “But I’ve had a lot more too. I’m...Would you...Want to talk more about them?”

Orange huffed against her and they both moaned quietly when he pulled out of her. He sat back on his heels and brushed his hair from his eyes. His thumb traced her hip bone. He squeezed her soft skin and she relaxed back into the bed.

“Yeah,” he breathed out with a lazy smile. “Sounds cool.”

#orange cassidy imagine #orange cassidy fic #orange cassidy fanfiction #orange cassidy smut #aew imagine #aew smut #aew fic #aew fanfiction #wrestling imagine #wrestling fic

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hellcat8908 · 8 months

Note

hii i love your writing it’s soo goodddd

could i request one where it’s cassian x reader, reader is rhysands sister so they have to keep it a secret. imagine while they’re in the middle of having sex in the library rhys catches them and he is pissed. he and cassian fight it out but he lets it go🥹👀🙏

Thank you so much 😊 I had so much fun writing this and couldn't stop once I started. I hope you enjoy it! Its one of my favorites.

Caught Cassian x Female Reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut, some angst, and a happy ending.

You hated sneaking around Rhys's back with Cassian, but you both knew he wouldn't approve. You knew you 'd have to tell him eventually, but for now, you were content with your secret meetings and stolen moments. Ever since Rhys and Feyre had moved out of the house of wind, it gave you more time with Cassian. You had become a little careless in being discreet, and it eventually catches up with you.

You were reshelving books in the library. It was getting late, so everyone was gone. While you were stretching to put a book on the top shelf, a hand took it from behind you and set it on the shelf. "You know there are step stools." He says teasingly. "Yeah, but you know you were admiring the view before you helped." You .respond with a wink. "I missed you today." He says as he cages you against the bookshelf. "How badly did you miss me?" You ask. He takes your hand and moves it to the bulge in his pants, "very badly, especially after our training session." You start rubbing his bulge through his pants, "I missed you too." He lets out a low moan. "Mother above, babe. You keep that up, and I'm not going to be able to control myself." You kiss him passionately, "maybe that's what I'm hoping for." You tell him softly. "You're going to be the death of me, you little minx." He says as he takes you to the nearest table. His hands make quick work, undoing your pants and pulling them down to your knees, leaving you completely exposed to him.

"Look at you not wearing anything under your pants. You naughty little thing. Were you hoping I'd come find you alone down here and fuck you senseless?" You can't help how wet your pussy gets, "Yes, I've been wanting you all day." You answer as he bends you over the table and nudges your feet apart. "Don't worry babe, I'm going to give you exactly what you need." His fingers run along your pussy feeling how wet you are. "Soaking wet for me already." He thrusts his cock inside you, giving you every inch at once. He doesn't wait and quickly starts thrusting in and out of you. His cock hitting the sweet spot everytime, you moans and heavy breathing fill the library. "Oh yes! Cass, it feels so good!" You moan as he takes you harder, "I love having you bent over with my cock deep inside you." He says. In an instant all hell breaks loose.

Cassian is suddenly pulled off of you as you hear Rhys's unmistakable voice asking, "what the fuck is going on?" You quickly pull up your pants and turn in time to see Rhys punch Cass, knocking him to the floor. The boys tumble around while you yell at both of them to stop. They exchange punches as well as words while you try to seperate them. A few moments later Azriel is there and pulls the two apart holding Rhys back. "What the fuck are you doing Cass?! She's my sister, do you have no respect?!" Rhys yell. You can see the hurt flash across Cassian's face. You stand in front of him. "Do you have no respect Rhys? He's been nothing but loyal to you and done everything you asked of him. He is a friend and this is how you react?!" You boldly say. "You're my sister and he's using you." He answers. "He isn't using me! He loves me and you'd see that if you bothered to take the time." You tell him.

"Don't be so naive, y/n!" Rhys yells. "How about everyone calm down, and we discjss this like adults." Azriel suggests. "I'm not a little girl anymore! You can't keep butting into my life! Cassian and I love each other, and if you can't accept that, then you can't accept me." You say as your voice breaks. Cassian reaches out for you, but you take off running before any of them can stop you. You quickly reach the house above and see consider you're options. You head for the 10,000 steps and start sprinting down them. After around 1,500, you stop and sit on a step with your face buried in your arms as you cry. Everything fell apart so fast, Cassian and Rhys had gotten into a physical fight, Rhys clearly doesn't trust your judgement and still see's you as his little sister after everything you've done to prove you're an adult. The look of hurt on Cass's face flashes through your mind.

Meanwhile in the library...

Azriel releases Rhys, and Cassian quickly punches him. "That's for thinking so little of me that I'd just be using your sister after all these years, after everything we've gone through together." Rhys punches Cass is the gut, "That's for hiding the fact that you're sleeping with my sister." He says before Az steps in. "Both of you are being assholes but the only real victim here is y/n, but neither of you pulled your heads out of your asses to realize that!" Cassian and Rhys both look at Az, surprised by his outburst. Az glares at Cass, "Did you ever get stop to think the amount of weight you put on her shoulders by letting her keep your relationship a secret? How that could've eventually destroyed her and cause you to lose her?" He turns his glare to Rhys, "and you, did you ever consider that she has the best judge of character out of all of us? Or the fact that Cassian would never do anything to hurt her, that he'd probably be the best one for her?" Azriel scolds both of them. "You too idiots need to work this out between you quick, because the only one truly suffering right now is her." He says before making his leave.

Back in the stairwell...

"Go away." You say sensing someone behind you. "Not until you talk to me." Az says as he sits beside you. "I didn't realize it was you, I'm sorry." He gently bumps you with his shoulder, "you need to new hiding places. You can't keep using the same ones over and over." You smile, "I'm not sure there's anywhere I could hide from you spymaster." You say. "Well, at least try to hide better. it's no fun if I know exactly where to find you." He teases. "Why do they have to be like this?" You ask softly. "Because they're Illyrian males prefer physical confrontation over verbal." He says with jest. "You know Rhys is just trying to keep you safe, and Cassian is just Cassian."

"Think one has killed the other yet?" You ask. "I doubt it, but there might be some blood to clean up before they work things out." He answers. "Well as long as they don't get any on the books." You joke causing Azriel to actually laugh. "Let's go make ice cream while we wait for them to figure it out." He suggests, "that always cheered you up. He helps you up, "why do you always choose the 1500s?" He asks. "Because most people would give up after the first few hundred and its far enough away not to echo up." You say casually as you start climbing. He follows you until you reach the kitchen and grabs 2 bowls while you grab the ice cream. He dishes it out and heats up the hot fudge making sure to pass you the sprinkles. You each add your desired toppings and dig in. About half way through you hear Rhys and Cass enter the kitchen.

"Well, how do you like that, we beat the crap out of each other while they're up here eating ice cream." Rhys teases. Cassian grabs a spoon and tries to steal some of yours, but you pull the bowl away before he can. "And they won't even share." Cass says with a pout. "Not until you tell me if you two are going back to normal." You say as you take a bite. "We worked out our differences, and I'm sorry, I was an ass to both of you when I shouldn't have been. Neither of you deserved it, and I will eventually be happy for you. Maybe after the image of Cass's naked ass is out of my memory." You laugh hysterically at the thought of Rhys seeing his butt, "at least it's one of the best asses in Velaris to see." You tease. Cassian pulls you closer, and "who has a better ass than me, baby?" Before you can answer, Azriel jumps in and says, "Me, duh. Everyone knows I have the best ass in the night court. You laugh and give Azriel a wink. "Hey, I saw that!" Cass says before pulling you in his lap. "I mean, the votes are in and have been counted. I'm not responsible for the results." Cassian takes a bite of your ice cream, "maybe I should work on my glutes." He says. "I think your butt is perfect babe.: you tell him before kissing him. "She's your girlfriend. She has to be nice to you." Rhys says, taunting him, "Besides, we all know I have the best ass." You roll your eyes, "This is the wingspan fight all over again." You tease as they all laugh."

#acotar #batboys #sarah j maas #acotar fanfic #cassian x reader #acotar angst #acotar smut #acotar fic

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libraryofnesta · 3 years

Text

Tied to Ruin

ao3 link

Summary:

Cassian and Nesta were lovers, partners in crime. They did everything together. That is until tragedy strikes, causing Nesta to run away, far from everything she once knew.

Over five years later, Nesta is living life to as full as it can get. It’s not until an incident occurs that drags her into far more than she bargained for.

Notes:

thanks so much for reading. i'm a huge hoe for exes to lovers, so i have like 20 ideas in my head, and this is one of them. It's multichapter. i'm not sure how long this is gonna be, but definitely over ten chapter. this fic has two timelines. One will show them from when they're kids to teens, and one while they're adults. Both will occur at the same time, so things will start to unravel as you read.btw! velaris is gonna be like a super small town in new york. like no one knows about it.

TW: implied domestic violence, nothing graphic.

Chapter 1: lonely beds, different cities

Words, how little they mean

When you're a little too late

I stood right by the tracks

Your face in a locket

Good girls, hopeful they'll be and long they will wait

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Taylor Swift

2016, Small Town Velaris

“Please,” she whispers, voice hoarse. Nesta is practically begging at this point, but she has nothing else to relent to. “We can get out of here.” She swallows hard when he doesn’t reply. “We’re still young Cassian, we can still-”

“Nesta.” He says. It's one word, but it makes her pause. He rarely calls her Nesta. It’s always ‘Nes’ or ‘Sweetheart.’

“I can’t.”

Their lives have changed so drastically over the past few weeks. Nesta’s whole childhood is here. Everything she’s ever known. She’s not sure how much more of it she can handle now.

She’s well aware of the tears streaming down her face. Nesta doesn’t know what she can say to convince him, so she says the one thing that she’s been repeating over and over.

“You can…”

Cassian’s face seems to harden. The look he gives her makes her take a step back. He hasn’t looked at her like that in years. “Go ahead and leave Nesta.”, he says, voice rising. “Go live that picture perfect you always wanted. I won’t stop you.”

“Not everyone wants what you do.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Something about leaving Valkyrians still makes her feel at odds. She’s not as resistant to the sight of blood anymore, and she’s not sure if she can ride a motorcycle as well as she used to. There are still parts that linger though. She still remembers how to throw a punch. A damn good one too. She still feels uneasy when someone walks in the same direction for too long though. It might be the worst part of it all.

Nesta doesn’t do much for fun. She doesn’t dance as much as she likes. The amount of books she reads has decreased. Her days consist of work and eating, even though she skips more meals than she should. But she’s free. That’s what really matters, doesn’t it?

The muscles in Nesta’s body ache. She just finished a seven hour shift, and got a promotion that pays much better. Nesta wants to celebrate. She wants to talk to someone. It’s been so long since she’s talked to anyone. The fear of someone finding out about her past is lodged so deep in her head it caused her to isolate. The simple way of putting it is she has no friends.

Coworkers are the only source of non-work related conversation she engages in. It’s always small talk too. Just as Nesta is about to fall asleep, she rubs her eyes and forces herself to stay awake. Getting up from the lumpy couch, Nesta walks to her cabinet, grabbing a random mug and pouring wine into it. Once she gets a better look at the mug, she can’t help but scoff.

It’s ironic. Complaining about being lonely. It’s almost like she chose loneliness. She loves the quiet. When she was younger, all she wanted was alone time. She dreads it now. Nesta gets up after finishing her glass. She’s a bit drowsy, and is way too tired to walk all the way to her room. Instead Nesta walks back over to her couch. She lies horizontally, staring into the abyss until she eventually falls asleep.

She dreams of seeing him that night. It’s a regular occurrence. It’s lessened over the years, but never fully disappeared. The image of him is blurry. It’s not as precise as it used to be. She hates still thinking of him. It doesn’t stop her from reminiscing a little though.

Her being upset makes sense of course. They’d known each other for over ten years, hating one another at first. Eventually, he began to grow on her. Their bickering had become playful, before they once again became estranged.

“Cassian?”

The figure turns around, and he knocks the wind out of her. His hair is out of it’s usual bun. He gives her that familiar boyish smile, walking towards her and putting an arm on her.

“Missed me Sweetheart?”, he says, ruffling her hair a bit. Nesta scrunches her nose in response.

“You wish.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah whatever.” He talks for a while. Nesta’s barely paying attention. It’s just nice to hear his voice again. He asks her what she’s reading, and she replies the same every time. It’s silent after a while. They’ve talked themselves out. It’s a nice silence though. Her favorite silence.

Cassian stares at her for a few seconds, giving her a soft smile and pushing a loose hair behind her ear.

“Come back,” he whispers.

Her breath stutters. “It’s been five years, Cass,” she mutters, breaking eye contact. Her eyes flicker between the ground and his face, gauging his reaction.

He doesn’t stop looking at her.

“I didn’t want to leave,” said Nesta. There’s a lump in her throat.

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Yet here we are.”

“You know why I left.”

Her eyes feel like they’re beginning to water. “I asked you to come with me. You’re the one who didn’t.”

Cassian looks to the side. He looks impassive, yet also emotionless. “You’re the one who ran away, Nesta.”

“I didn’t run away.”

He scoffs in response. “Keep telling yourself that.” Cassian starts walking away. It’s cloudy and has no solid ground or sky. At that moment she remembers where she really is. Nesta stands there, waiting until he fully fades away. It always feels too real.

The dreams always end like that.

Nesta can barely pry her eyes open when she wakes up. She has the next two weeks off. Her boss, Helion, had insisted she take a week or two off, since the bar was under a small renovation. She checks her phone and it reads 12:03. Jesus, she really had overslept.

In all honesty Nesta had no idea what to do with her free time. Maybe she’ll finally finish that book she started months ago. But in reality Nesta knows all she’ll do is go to a bar and let a stranger fuck her into oblivion until she kicks them out or leaves.

By the time Nesta leaves her house it’s around 3:00. She goes to the coffee shop next door. She orders a coffee and sits in the corner of the room. Nesta somehow feels like the center of attention. It’s an empty shop, but it feels like all eyes on her. The room feels too cold.

The feeling follows her when she goes to the local bookstore. It’s crowded, but the area is quiet. Nesta browses through the shelves, sticking to the romance section. She holds a few books. It’s not until Nesta drops one, people begin to look at her. It makes a loud thump hitting the floor. Several pairs of eyes turn to her. The cover is of a shirtless man too.

Fuck , she thinks, This is embarrassing. Nesta purses her lips, hand curling into a fist as she puts the book back on it’s shelf.

It’s around 5:00 when she takes the train home. Nesta spent the rest of her day at the park, not wanting to stay at home. It doesn’t feel like home as much as she’d like it to though. Finally, Nesta makes it home.

She’s in an empty parking lot. The area she lives in is pretty small. Nesta knows basically everyone in her apartment complex. It’s a tiny place. She never talks to anyone, but they do acknowledge each other. Barely anyone has a car either, herself included. So it is a bit weird to see an unrecognizable car. It’s odd, but Nesta thinks nothing of it. It’s probably just someone visiting.

Nesta goes into her apartment, before leaving once more to go to the bar that’s the second closest to her apartment. She’s usually working at this time, flirting with customers and taking them home when her shift ends.

The bar is crowded and loud. Lights are flashing, voices yelling, bodies moving. It’s out of her comfort zone. She’s been doing this for years and is still isn’t used to it. She sits on one of the stools where the drinks are served. A girl approaches her. Nesta never approaches anyone. She can’t see clearly in the light. The girl’s hair is brunette, though her roots are dark. Her brown skin illuminates in the flickering light.

“Hey”, she says “I’m Nora” Nora extends her hand to her. Nesta smirks in response, resting her elbow on the counter grasping her hand with the other.

“I’m Mila,” she says. No matter what she does, Nesta will never use her real name. Nora’s eyebrows raise. Nesta can see her lick tongue move as it pushes on her skin.

“Pretty name.”

They talk for around five minutes. It’s all small talk. They drink while they talk. Most of the things she responds with are lies anyways. Nora grasp’s her arm with her hand. “Wanna get out of here?” she asks. Her words are slurred, and Nesta has to restrain herself from flinching.

Something in her head tells her not to let anyone in her house though. Something is wrong, but she can’t put her mind on it. The idea of letting a stranger in her house sends goosebumps across her arms. Before, she’d never question it twice. Now that she thinks of it, doing this practically screams stranger danger. Especially with her past, this person could be anyone. Nesta slowly probes herself from the girl.

“I’ve gotta go”, she says. “Sorry, but there's something I need to do.” The girl doesn't seem to mind, either too drunk to care, or only looking for a one night stand. She nods, before introducing herself to someone else. Nesta feels her chest lighten, exiting the crowded bar to call an uber.

Whenever it’s quiet, she always reminisces.

2006, Small Town Velaris

Nesta wakes up and finds herself stranded. She has no idea where she is. She’s lying in a bed inside a mostly empty room. There’s only a few pieces of furniture, a stool and a drawer. It’s relatively small. The last thing she remembers is being in a car with her sisters and parents. She hears voices outside of the room yelling.

“You expect me to leave-”

“Her father is-”

“She’s nine what would she-”

“So what if she’s young!”

“-s innocent so what if-”

She hears a loud smack. The silence after is deafening. The voices are quiet after, whispers. Afterwards, Nesta hears footsteps approaching. She scrunches her eyes shut, trying to pretend to be asleep. Nesta hears the door open and close. A hand lays on her forehead. As the person removes it, a calming voice talks. “Are you awake?” Nesta slowly looks at the person, opening only one eye, then another. She sees a woman with black hair and tan skin. Her cheeks are flushed and she has a small smile on her face.

The woman squats down so she’s the same height as the bed Nesta is laying on. “Hi,” the woman whispers, voice solemn and comforting. “My names Aurora,” she says. Nesta squishes her lips together. She’s confused and feels like crying. Nesta doesn’t cry though. She’s pretty sure her eyes water though, because Aurora strokes her hair and whispers, “It’s okay to cry.”

Nesta gasps and shakes her head. “Mommy says I’m not supposed to cry.” Aurora seems to be shocked silent. The silence makes Nesta become aware of everything that is happening. She slowly sits up. Once her feet are off the bed, Nesta quickly sprints to the door, opening it and running out. She has no idea where she’s going.

Suddenly, Nesta is hit with a hard impact, and falls down on her butt. She looks up and sees two boys. They’re both around the same height. They have the same dark hair too, except one is longer than the other. Nesta gets up and brushes off the dust on her leggings.

She notices it then. The leggings. She’s never worn pants before.

It’s also when she notices the juice smeared across one of the boy's shirts. It’s the long haired one’s. He drops the red cup to the ground and makes an angry noise. “That was my favorite shirt.”

Nesta feels sheepish as she whispers a quiet, “Sorry.”

The one with longer hair whispers to the other boy, obviously meaning for her to hear too. “She’s probably not even double digits.” The other boy is quiet, looking at the ground. He seems nervous and shy.

Nesta feels a sense of outrage course through her. She pouts, crossing her arms. “I’m almost ten. I’m nine and a half” The boy crosses his arms too.

“Well I’m ten and a half,” he says.

“Cassian,” Aurora scolds. “Play nice.” She puts a hand on Nesta’s shoulder and bends down. “I need to talk to…” She doesn’t continue.

Nesta turns towards her, and realizes she needs her name. “Nesta,” she says.

Aurora smiles, “That’s a wonderful name.”

Cassian still seems angry. “I think it’s stupid.” Aurora sighs and gets up. “Azriel”, she says to the other boy. He hadn’t talked the whole time, Nesta almost forgot he was there. “Make sure he stays out of trouble. And Cassian, please change your shirt.” The two (stupid) boys walk away. Once they’re from a far enough distance, Aurora looks back down at her. “I have to talk to you about something.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Nesta walks into her apartment tired and half asleep. Once inside her apartment, she changes into more comfortable clothes, sweatpants and a grey t-shirt.

Nesta’s about to go to bed, until she hears the sound of glass shattering and liquid spilling. She freezes, thinking about the mug of wine she left out.

No.

Nesta scrambles towards the kitchen and grabs a flashlight from a cabinet, flashing the light to the ground. The mug is shattered to pieces, and she can still see little droplets of wine. The words aren’t visible anymore, letters broken and unreadable.

There’s no way it could’ve fallen on its own. It was in the middle of her counter. Unless...

Suddenly it all makes sense. The unrecognizable car in the parking lot. The uneasy feeling in her stomach. The constant nagging in her head, telling her that something is wrong.

She thinks about calling the police but goes against it. Years in a fucking biker gang taught her better then to trust those scumbags.

She always kept a gun in her house. Just in case. She really hates how no matter what she does. she’ll always be connected to this.

The person inside her apartment most definitely knows where she is. Nesta grabs a broom, sweeping the glass shards into an empty bag. She can fix it later. Tying it up, Nesta leaves it on her counter.

There's a wall blocking the entrance to her bathroom. She walks towards it, opening and closing the door so it seems she went inside. Grabbing her gun from the small drawer, Nesta lays her back against the wall, barely peeking out the wall, but just enough so she can see them as they crawl out from behind her couch.

The figure moves stealthily, back turned towards her. If she weren’t directly staring at it, there would be no way of knowing it was there. The moves look familiar, but she can’t put her mind on it. The moonlight shines on them so she can see the most obvious features. It’s not until the floor creaks the figure turns towards her direction. Nesta turns back to face her bathroom door, hands drawn to tight fists. There’s no way they hadn’t seen her. She moved too slow. Nesta peeks her head out to look again.

It’s not until she sees a familiar pair of scarred hands in the moonlight, it all comes together.

“Azriel Night?”

In dreams

I meet you in warm conversation

We both wake

In lonely beds

In different cities

And time

Is taking its sweet time erasing you

And you've got your demons

And darlin' they all look like me

PSA!! go to ask’s to be added to tag list

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evermoreholland · 3 years

Text

in harmony | tom holland

-> singer!reader x tom holland

-> summary: after a nasty break up, you go to london with your two best friends in hope to find inspiration for your upcoming album and a london boy soon became your muse.

-> word count: 5.7k

-> a/n: wow. this is probably my favorite fic of mine. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do. big thank you to @rainbowrobin for hyping this fic up and being its biggest fan. also thank you to @cali-holland for beta reading this for me! your support means the world to me and you inspire me every day to keep writing. love you to bits <3

~~~

Breaking up with someone you used to care about was never easy. In fact, grieving and eventually getting over that person was the hardest thing to do. You were a singer so relationships that went public usually ended up terribly wrong. The good part about it is that you can write a hit song about the experience.

Breaking up with your past boyfriend was probably the worst experience for you thus far. You thought that he was the one, every move you made was for him and you ended up depending on him constantly. And he broke your heart. He played you like a fiddle and played with the strings of your heart. He cheated on you with someone you were insecure about the duration of your relationship with him, which made everything feel worse.

You decided that you needed a change of scenery in hopes to clear your head. You had been spending time in your Los Angeles apartment moping around, trying to get over your ex-boyfriend. You also had a deadline for your new album and you haven’t even started. Your album was due towards the end of the summer, and it was now spring.

You sat down on your sofa with a pen and notebook in your hand. You were determined to write something. You didn’t want to write songs about your breakup, but that was all you were thinking about. You saw your phone on the coffee table light up and buzz. It was your manager and agent, Cassandra. You picked up the phone nervously, knowing that she was going to ask about your progress or lack thereof.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hello, Y/N,” Cassandra greeted sweetly. “How’s the album coming along? We need to start recording soon.”

“Funny you ask.” You always tried to make fun out of an uncomfortable situation.

“Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, Cass! I have no idea what I should be writing about for this album.” It’s not like you didn’t want to write. You did, but you had no idea what to write about.

“Maybe you need a change of scenery, dear. You haven’t been out in months,” Cassandra suggested.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Where would you want to go? You can stay there for the rest of the spring and the beginning of the summer.”

You thought about it for a moment. You definitely wanted to leave the country. “How does London sound, Cass?”

“Sounds nice. I’ll book you, Natalie, and Sarah tickets for this weekend and I’ll rent the three of you an Airbnb for your stay,” Cassandra confirmed. Natalie was your personal assistant and your best friend. Sarah was your older sister who traveled with you everywhere and she helped you with many of your songs. She was good to bounce ideas off of. You had the perfect team.

“Perfect. Thank you.” You both said your goodbyes and hung up.

***

Tom got off the airplane and sighed in relief. He was finally home. After many months of filming on another continent, he was back in London. Tom was ready to finally sleep in his own bed and hang out with his brothers and friends once again.

Harry and Tom took an Uber back to Tom’s apartment. It was fairly late and all Tom wanted to do was sleep. In the Uber, Tom and Harry made light conversation.

“You want to go to the new pub by our flat this weekend? Haz and Tuwaine want to hang out,” Harry asked.

“Sure,” Tom mumbled. To be quite honest, Tom had absolutely no desire to go out at all this weekend, but he knew that his mates wanted to see him. He did want to see them too, so he agreed.

“Sounds good.”

***

You packed your suitcases for London at the last minute. In your defense, Cassandra only booked Thursday night’s tickets on Wednesday, so you didn’t have that much time in the first place. You were planning on using your time in London to relax and to create a healthy headspace to write your next album.

You called Natalie to ask her opinion on some of your outfit choices. “Nat, am I going for a casual look this trip? Like sweatpants and t-shirts?”

“Absolutely not, Y/N. Are you insane?!”

“It was just a question, Natalie.” You defended yourself. “What should I pack then?”

“I don’t know, just look hot. You need to get out of the post-breakup sweatpants phase.”

“Fine,” you grumbled. You grabbed some cute spring sundresses from your closet and threw them into your suitcase. You packed some jeans and blouses as well.

You hung up with Natalie and took a look at your bag. “Should be good.”

***

The flight to London from Los Angeles was long and exhausting. You arrived at Heathrow airport in the early afternoon on Friday. You immediately went to the house to rest up from jetlag. Once you woke up a few hours later, Sarah was pressuring you and Natalie to get dressed. “We’re going to the pub! Get up, ladies!”

“What? Why?” Natalie groaned. You and Natalie were laying on your beds in your shared room. Sarah jumped onto your bed and tackled you.

“Sarah, we’re exhausted,” you said. You pushed your sister off of you and sat up. “We can just go tomorrow.”

“It’s the pub’s grand opening! It’s supposed to be fire!”

“Fine,” you mumbled. You got up and began unpacking your suitcase. “But I refuse to wear heels.”

***

Harrison made his way to his best mate’s flat to pick him up for the Cheer Beers grand opening on Friday night. Harrison used his spare key to get into Tom’s place. “Tom,” Harrison called out. He made his way to Tom’s bedroom to make sure he was ready for the night.

“In my room!” Tom exclaimed. Tom sounded upset and agitated. Harrison entered his room anyway because he wanted to hang out with his best friend. He opened the door and noticed Tom laying his bed under the covers.

“Are you alright, mate?” Harrison asked. Harrison noticed Tom in his pajamas while in bed. “Why aren’t you ready to go? Harry already went out with Tuwaine to wait in line.”

“I want to hang out with you all, but I’m just so jetlagged, mate.”

Harrison took his phone out of his back pocket to check the time and noticed an Instagram notification from you. He opened it out of curiosity and it was a direct message. It said that you would be at Cheer Beers tonight with your friends and asked if he was going. Harrison and you had met at an award show a few months back and you became friends. “You know what I just found out, Tom?”

“What?”

“Y/N L/N is going to the grand opening tonight.”

“You’re lying just to get me out of bed!” Tom accused him. Tom didn’t want to admit it, but he fancied you. He has been following you on social media and listening to your music for a while now, so Harrison saying you were going to be at the pub caught his attention.

“I’m not.” Harrison showed Tom his phone with your direct message. “I had no idea she was in town, though.”

“No clue, either.”

“Now will you come?” Harrison asked. “I know you have a huge crush on her.”

Tom eyed him skeptically but then let out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll go.”

***

You waited in line outside of Cheer Beers with Sarah and Natalie. You were wearing a black sleeveless cocktail dress with black slip-on vans. You saw a few familiar faces approach you and you realized that it’s your friend Harrison and his mates. You recognized one of his friends to be Tom Holland.

“Hey, Haz!” You greeted. He pulled you into a hug and squeezed you tightly. You pulled away and said, “Following me, I see?”

“Very funny,” he replied. “We were coming to opening night anyway. We were planning this in honor of Tom’s return from filming.”

“Oh, that’s right,” you said and then turned to Tom. You put your hand out for him to shake. “I’m Y/N.”

He shook your hand and you felt his sweaty palm touch yours. You could assume that he was either unwell or nervous. “Tom. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.”

You introduced Natalie and Sarah to Harrison and he introduced the rest of his friends to the three of you.

“Would you like to share a table with us?” Harry, Tom’s younger brother, asked you.

“I’m sure that Y/N L/N would have much better opportunities than to sit with us, Harry,” Tom interjected.

“Actually, Tom, we would love to.” You all entered the pub and grabbed a table in the back room. Harrison sat between Sarah and Tuwaine. Harry sat by Natalie. You sat between Natalie and Tom, per Natalie’s whisper in your ear to go for it. You all got your first round of drinks.

“So what brings you to London?” Tom asked.

“Needed to clear my head,” you said and then ate the olives from your martini.

“So you flew halfway across the world?” Tom was amused and you could tell. He wasn’t trying to laugh at you particularly, he just thought it was funny that you chose London of all places.

“Shut up,” you teased. “We’re here for the summer. A vacation, or holiday, if you will.”

“Nice, nice.” You could feel the slight awkward tension between the two of you. You were basically strangers so it made sense. You decided to try and break it. “How was filming for the third Spider-Man film?”

Tom’s eyes lit up at your sudden interest in his work. “Can I tell you a funny story?”

***

Three hours passed by and you decided to call it a night. You talked with Tom the entire night. You enjoyed his company but you were also jetlagged. “Tom, I’m tired,” you said as you leaned on his shoulder.

“Me too.”

“Want to walk me home?” You asked.

“Would love to.” You both got up from the booth and Tom paid for your drinks, even though you protested. Harrison, Tuwaine, Harry, Sarah, and Natalie didn’t look like they were ready to leave any time soon so you said your goodbyes to them and left with Tom.

“How far are you away from here?” Tom asked you.

“About a ten minute walk.” You began walking in the cool London air.

“So, Harrison told me that you were writing for your new album. How’s that going?”

“Not well,” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s been fucking difficult.”

“I’m sorry, love.” The pet named warmed your heart and body even more. Tom wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “I wish I can help you out somehow.”

“It’s alright. Getting out tonight helped me get into a good headspace,” you said.

“Glad to hear it.” You arrived at your Airbnb and Tom walked you to the front door. “I had a great time tonight, Y/N.”

You smiled, the first genuine smile that you’ve had in a while. “Me too, Tom.” You opened your door to enter.

“Wait.” Tom stopped you. “Let me get your number.”

“Sure.”

***

Two weeks had passed since you arrived in London and you and Tom have been texting back and forth. He had even taken you on a tour of London. He took you to all of the hot spots. Occasionally, Tom, Harrison, and Harry would come over to your Airbnb to hang out with you, Sarah, and Natalie. You were developing friendships with everyone, but you felt a bit stronger about Tom. He was charming, kind, and really funny. You enjoyed his company and you finally got the chance to start writing for your upcoming album. You realized that you didn’t want to write about your breakup with your ex, but instead write about your crush on the brown-haired London boy.

“How is the album coming along?” Cassandra asked you on the phone.

“Pretty good. I have a killer single coming your way and many other songs too.”

“Remember, we need to start recording at the end of July.”

“You got it.”

“You sound happy,” she commented. She was right. You were happy and finally completely over your ex. “It’s a good look on you.”

“Thanks.”

“What are you writing about?”

“Oh, you know… London, pubs, boys,” you trailed off.

***

Harrison was busy planning his upcoming date with your sister, Sarah. They hit it off extremely well at the opening of Cheer Beers. They got each other’s numbers and planned to go on a date. To be honest, Harrison was stressed out. He scored a date with Sarah L/N, which ultimately shocked him. So, he decided to go to his best mate for some advice.

Tom was sitting in his living room and Harrison entered with two dress shirts in hand. One of them was a white button-down and the other one navy. “Which shirt should I wear on my date with Sarah?”

“Black slacks, right?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, and a black leather jacket.”

“Go with white,” Tom suggested.

“Thanks, mate. Another question,” Harrison proposed. It felt natural for Harrison to ask Tom about his lady troubles, even though Tom had been single for a while.

Tom nodded his head to urge Harrison to continue.

“What if I fuck this up?” He asked nervously. “I really like Sarah.”

Tom got up from the couch to come closer to Harrison and put his hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, mate. Just be yourself. She’ll fancy you, I promise.”

“How are you so good at giving me advice but you can’t get a girlfriend?”

Tom mocked being bothered. “Rude,” he scoffed.

“What are you waiting for?”

“If I say the perfect girl, will you slap me?” Tom joked.

“Yes, yes I will,” Harrison laughed as he replied. “I think that you already found the perfect girl at Cheer Beers.”

“We’re still getting to know each other. Why must we move so fast?” Tom wondered. He wanted to take things slow. His life had always moved fast and he wanted something to move at his pace, for once. Too many relationships have moved too fast and he ended up hurt.

“Because she’s only here for so long and I have a feeling that she likes you,” Harrison reasoned. Tom was starting to feel the same way about you too.

“Fine. While you go on your date with Sarah tonight, I’ll see if Y/N wants to hang out.” He picked up his phone from the coffee table and texted you asking if you wanted to come over. You replied saying yes and he smiled. “We’re hanging out.”

“Great. Don’t forget to use protection,” Harrison said as he ran away to go get dressed for his date.

“Fuck off, you div!”

***

Tom went to the grocery store to pick up some snacks and beers before you came over to his flat. He tidied up the living room once he got home and made sure to fluff the pillow to make them look nicer. Even though you and Tom were only friends, he couldn’t help but make sure that everything looked perfect for you.

You arrived 30 minutes later. You wore sweatpants and a sweatshirt, along with your slides. Your hair was out of your face and Tom thought that you looked stunning. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Tom blushed. “Nice sweatshirt.” Your sweatshirt was light blue and it had butterflies on it. Tom realized that he loved that color on you.

He led you to the couch and he sat beside you. “So what did you do today?” You asked.

“I worked on a script that I’m writing and then I helped Harrison get ready for his date with your sister. What about you, love?” The pet name made your heart flutter. Tom was definitely charming.

“I worked on some songs for the album,” you answered proudly.

“Care to share?”

“Willing to share what the script’s about?” You asked back, already knowing the answer.

“I’m legally not allowed to share, so no. I’m sorry, darling.”

“Then my answer is the same.”

“Well played, pretty girl,” he flirted. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure, what do you have in mind?”

“Avengers: Age of Ultron?”

“Yes, it’s one of my favorite Marvel movies!” You exclaimed. “I have a feeling that you knew that already.”

Tom smiled at you as he picked up the remote from the coffee table and turned on the television. “I may have, but only because Haz told me. Don’t worry, though. It’s one of my favorites too.”

Tom found the movie and before he hit play he got up from the couch. “May I offer you some popcorn before we start the movie? I have beer as well.”

“Yes to both, please.” Tom went to the kitchen to pop the popcorn and grab some beers. He came back around five minutes later with everything.

“Here you go,” he said as he handed you a bottle of beer. “I know it’s not a martini.”

“It’ll have to do,” you teased. You pat the seat beside you to urge Tom over. “Now, come sit.”

Tom pressed play and the Marvel introduction appeared on the screen. You moved closer to Tom and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, just like he did that night at the pub. “Is this ok?” He asked.

“It’s perfect.”

Around an hour into the movie, the popcorn was finished along with your first bottle of beer. Tom’s hand was still resting on your shoulder but now your head was resting on his. “Y/N?” Tom called out.

“Yeah?” You asked as you moved your head away from him so you could look at him.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” You nodded so he would continue. “I really want to kiss you.”

“Can I be honest with you?” You asked while smiling.

“Yeah.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” you said as you leaned in. He pressed his lips against yours in a soft first kiss. You kissed back almost immediately. After a couple of seconds, you pulled away from him.

“Wow,” he said.

“Ditto,” you said and then pulled him back towards you. You kissed him again and you knew that from now on, you couldn’t get enough of him.

***

Tom and you didn’t finish the movie the other night. After your many makeout sessions with him, you decided to go home, and you promised him that the two of you would get together again soon. You went home with the biggest smile on your face. Since your kiss, you and Tom have not talked about the status of your relationship. As of right now, you were just friends who have kissed before. No biggie.

It was now the 28th of May and you were sitting on a park bench having coffee with Harrison. It would be Tom’s 25th birthday in four days and the two of you were attempting to plan the perfect party for him.

“You’ll get the decorations, Sam will cook a few dishes, and I’ll provide booze,” Harrison said, listing things off. “We’ll host it at my new flat and I already called everyone.”

“Sounds great, Haz. I just hope he has a great time.”

“I’m sure he will,” he said as he winked at you, indicating something.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, referring to his wink.

“I know that something happened between the two of you last week. Tom hasn’t stopped smiling since the two of you started hanging out. I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you planned a party for him.”

“We all are planning it,” you corrected him.

“Yeah, but it’s not like he fancies me,” Harrison laughed.

You rolled your eyes at the blonde-haired boy in front of you. “Whatever.” You got up from the park bench and began walking towards his car. “Come on, Harrison. We need to go to the market.”

***

It was the 1st of June; Tom’s birthday. You woke up early to make sure that everything was ready to go for the party tonight. Harrison and Tom’s brothers planned a golf trip with Tom while you set up Harrison’s flat. You brought Sarah and Natalie along with you to help.

“Move that banner a little more to the right,” you told Sarah. She moved it as you requested. The banner said, Happy 25th birthday, Tom! in light blue glitter. “Looks great. Thanks, sis.”

You blew up balloons, set up tables for the food and drinks, got streamers and ribbons, and finally assembled the cupcake tower with the cupcakes you and Natalie baked the night before.

“Red velvet. Nice choice,” Sarah said as she took a look at the cupcakes on display.

“They’re Tom’s favorite,” you pointed out.

“Seems like you know a lot about him.”

“Well, he is my friend.”

Natalie laughed at your response to your sister’s comment. “Is that all he is?” She asked.

“For now.” You pulled out your phone from your pocket to check the time. It was the early afternoon and the party would start in a few hours. “We better get going to get ready. Sam will bring the food and set it up within the hour.”

Before you got into the car, you texted Tom to wish him a happy birthday and he responded with a heart emoji. You smiled to yourself and then got into the car to drive to your Airbnb.

The three of you washed up and got dressed for Tom’s party. You decided on wearing a light blue sundress with daisies on it. You matched it with white wedges and you did your hair to your liking. Once you were all ready you drove to Harrison’s. When you got there, Harrison, Sam, Tuwaine, and a few other friends of Tom’s were already there.

“Harry is bringing Tom in around 15 minutes,” Harrison told you.

“Ok. Everything seems to be going pretty smoothly.”

“We make a pretty great team,” Harrison said in appreciation for all of the work to make Tom’s party happen.

“Tell that to Sarah over there,” you teased him. His date with your sister went well from what she told you, but because of Harrison’s nervousness, they haven’t talked much since. “She’s been dying to hang out with you.”

“Are you just saying that so you can have Tom all to yourself when he gets here?” He tried to joke.

“No,” you said seriously. “Go talk to her, Haz.” You pushed him lightly in her direction to encourage him to go talk to her.

“I see Harry’s car pulling up!” Sam said a few minutes later. “Everyone get ready.”

Harry used Harrison’s spare key to get into his flat and once both of them entered you all yelled, “Surprise!”

“Thanks, guys!” Tom said in shock. Tom made his rounds to greet everyone to say thank you. You waited patiently in the kitchen for the birthday boy. He finally approached you after a few minutes. “Hey, love.”

“Happy birthday,” you said as you pulled him in for a hug. “You look very handsome.”

He pulled away to look at you. “Thank you, but you’re absolutely stunning.”

You leaned in to kiss his cheek and then said, “Thanks, Tom.”

“I should be thanking you,” he said and then grabbed your hands to intertwine your fingers together.

“For what?”

“Harrison told me that you helped him plan all of this, so thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you said genuinely. “You like it?”

“I love it. He looked over to the counter and saw the cupcakes. “Is that a cupcake tower?”

“A red velvet cupcake tower,” you confirmed. “I baked them.”

“You’re a goddess.” He kissed your lips for half a second and then grabbed a cupcake from one of the tiers. He unwrapped the cupcake and then took a bite. He hummed in delight.

“I’m taking that you like them,” you giggled at the man in front of you. He could seriously make anything look cute.

“They’re heaven,” he moaned. Tom dipped his finger in the frosting and swiped your nose with it. You looked at him in shock. “Aw, you look so adorable,” he said.

You laughed at his antics. “Glad you think so, babe.”

Tom’s lit up at the pet name. “Babe? Hmmm.”

“Yeah, babe.” You took some frosting from what was remaining of his cupcake and placed some on his nose to match you. “You look very cute with frosting on your nose, babe.”

Tom grabbed a napkin from the counter and cleaned the frosting off the both of you. “We’re both very cute.”

“Ok, lovebirds,” Sam called out for the two of you. “Let’s get this party started!”

“Before we go out there, I have something to ask you,” Tom said.

“And what may that be?”

“Will you go out on a date with me?” He asked nervously. You felt your heart skip a beat and you could’ve sworn that you felt Tom’s heart beating rapidly from how close you were standing to him.

“I would love to, Tom,” you said and then kissed him to confirm that you really wanted to.

***

The rest of the night went well and Tom enjoyed his time with his friends. You, Sarah, and Natalie crashed at Harrison’s place along with Tom and Harry. The party ended late and the five of you were too tired to drive home, so Harrison offered to let you all stay there.

You woke up early and made your way downstairs to heat the kettle for tea. As you were waiting, you heard footsteps, and soon enough a pair of arms wrapped around you. “Good morning, beautiful,” Tom said and then kissed your clothed shoulder.

“Morning.” You turned around so you could face him. “How did you sleep?”

“Not so well,” Tom said as he stretched out his arms. “Harrison’s a kicker.”

“Poor baby,” you teased, and then Tom pouted. “Quit pouting, Tommy. I know you’re faking it.”

“Fine,” Tom mumbled.

You turned to the stove and saw that the kettle was ready. “Want tea?”

“Please. A splash of milk and a spoonful of sugar, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you said as you poured him a cup. “So where are we going on our first date?”

“That’s a surprise, darling.”

***

A week after Tom’s birthday, Tom texted you asking if you were available to go on your first date. You had been working on the album the entire morning so you thought it’d be nice to go out with Tom. You replied yes and he told you to be ready within the hour. Tom knocked on your door around an hour later, with a bouquet in his hand. “These are for you, love,” he said with a smile as he handed them to you.

“Thank you, Tom,” you said and then sniffed the flowers. “Come in while I put these in some water.” Tom entered your Airbnb and you searched for a vase in one of the cabinets. Once you found one, you filled it up with water and put the flowers in. “We should be good to go now.”

Tom held your hand as he led you to the car. He opened the door for you and then got in and started the car. “You ready?”

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“You’ll see in around 15 minutes, angel.” Tom grabbed your hand that was resting in your lap and brought it up to his lips to kiss it. “I don’t think I told you this, but you look ethereal.”

“You’re quite the charmer, Holland.”

“I aim to please,” he joked. “But in all seriousness, you always look gorgeous.”

Tom was by far the kindest man you have ever met in your entire life. You have known him for barely two months but he made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. You had never felt this way about anyone before.

Tom drove down to a lake. “It’s one of my secret spots,” he told you.

He led you down to the grass near the water and he set up a picnic there for the two of you. “I made sandwiches, cut up some fruit, and some apple cider.”

“It looks good. Thank you, Tom.” He pulled everything out from the picnic basket and handed you one of the sandwiches.

“Anything for you.”

“So this is one of your secret spots, huh?” You asked.

“Mhm,” he mumbled as he took a bite from his sandwich.

“So you bring a lot of girls here?” You teased and you could’ve sworn that you saw Tom almost choke on his sandwich. “Is that why it's so special?”

“Very funny, love,” Tom said. “No, I actually come here alone.”

“I’m guessing because it’s quiet.”

“Yeah, I come here when I need to clear my head.”

You looked around the area and you immediately understood why Tom liked it so much. There was a beautiful, cool breeze and the birds chirping sounded like music to your ears. “It’s beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“I can drive you here to write songs if you’d like,” Tom offered.

“That would be lovely.”

You and Tom spent a couple of hours at the lake. You talked about anything and everything, and you finally felt yourself get closer to him. You felt him opening up to you too, which you felt good about.

“Would you like to go on a drive with me?” Tom asked once you both packed up the remainder of the picnic.

“Will there be music involved?”

“What would be a nice evening drive without music? C’mon, let’s go.” Tom led you to his car and you began your drive. The sun was setting and it was beautiful. “It’s wonderful outside, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” you said.

“I had a great time with you, Y/N.”

“Me too.”

*** Once Tom dropped you off, you began writing another song. His date left you inspired and you were starting to like him more and more. Each time you saw him your feelings for him grew. He inspired you to write your song, London Boy.

Tom wanted a second date. He felt so good leaving the first one and knew that he wanted to pursue a relationship with you. He knew that it would be hard but relationships won’t always be easy. He decided to call you the next to ask when he could see you again.

“Tom, we just went out,” you teased.

“I know, Y/N, but I like you. A lot.” You thought that it was cute how Tom was eager for a second date. You were excited too.

“I like you, too. I would love to see you again, too,” you said.

“Coffee? I don’t drink it but I know how much you like it,” Tom offered.

“How about tea? Know any good spots for a cup of tea and maybe breakfast?”

“I know just the place. See you soon, Y/N.”

***

Many amazing dates with Tom and a bunch of fun days in London later and you know that you’re ready to start recording your next album. People had their assumptions about you and Tom. Rumors had gone around but Tom and you didn’t address them.

London inspired so much of your album that you decided to record there. The rest of your team flew out and you began recording.

You called Tom asking him to come to the studio. “I’m recording one of my favorite songs today. I would love for you to come if you’re free.” You were recording London Boy today and you wanted Tom to hear it since he hadn’t before. It would also be a good way to officially tell Tom that you’re falling in love with him.

“I would love to come. Send me the address.”

“You got it. See you in 20.”

You sent Tom the address of the studio and he was there within 15 minutes. You greeted him at the front. “Hey, babe.”

He kissed you on the cheek and then asked, “Are you excited for today?”

“Very. I’m excited for you to hear the song,” you said as you led him into the studio. You introduced him to Cassandra and the rest of your team.

“Y/N, get your pretty ass in the booth,” Cassandra said. You walked into the recording booth and put on your headphones. “Let’s do this.”

“Tom, sit up in front,” you said and then he took a seat beside Cassandra. “This one is called London Boy.”

The upbeat music came on and you knew that you were skipping the intro for now so you went in with the first verse.

I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey But something happened, I heard him laughing I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent They say home is where the heart is But that's not where mine lives

You heard Cassandra tell you to stop so they could play it back. You saw Tom smiling at you as you were singing and you took that as a good sign that he was enjoying it.

“Now for the chorus.”

You know I love a London boy I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet Darling, I fancy you Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates So I guess all the rumors are true You know I love a London boy Boy, I fancy you (Ooh)

You ended up finishing the recording of the song in an hour. You left the booth for your break and you first greeted Tom. “What did you think of it?”

“I love you, too,” he said. You leaned up to him and kissed him with every fiber of your being.

“That’s good because many of these songs are about you.”

“And I can’t wait to hear them all,” he said and then smiled.

“I can’t believe how I’ve only been here for three months and I already feel this way,” you said honestly. You have never fallen so fast for anyone, but it feels right with Tom. Everything feels right with him.

“Well, believe it because it’s real,” Tom confirmed. “Be mine, Y/N?”

“I thought you’d never ask, lover.”

~~~

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tagging: @tomsbabymomma @canwekissforever-hazzy @pinklxmonade @tomsbrina @storybookholland

#this is scheduled so i hope it shows up in the tags #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfic

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acourtofbookishdreams · 3 years

Text

Azriel ~ Different

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You have been having nightmares frequently and Azriel always is there to help you. This time, though, you finally open up about your nightmares and the things you experienced Under the Mountain.

Warning: Mentions of r*pe and sex*al assault. Please be wary.

Word Count: 1785

Azriel POV

Her screams had woken me again.

"Azriel! Azriel, no!"

This was becoming a recurrent, nightly tradition. A tradition I wished would would just simply not be anymore.

I did what I always did, bursting into her room, Truthteller at the ready to fend off whatever ailed her but we both knew it was mostly for show. Still, I would never not rush to her side, never leave Truthteller behind for the sake of the fact that the one time I didn't would inevitably be the one time something was truly, physically wrong with her and I would kick myself for treating it as any other night - especially since the fear was certainly not all that unfounded.

But it was just a nightmare. Another nightmare.

'YOUR' POV

My screams had woken him again.

He had done the chivalrous thing of course, bursting into my room with Truthteller, prepared to fight the evil lurking in the shadows he couldn't predict or trust but we both knew nothing was there to fight, it was all in my head.

Another nightmare.

One like all the rest but this time...it was worse.

"Y/N" Azriel breathes, lowering the blade

"I'm okay" I shake my head, offering a weak smile, "Routine procedure at this point, right?"

I bite my lip, trying to hold the tears back and averting my gaze. It was usually at this point that Azriel would ask if I wanted him to stay but for some reason tonight was different. He closed the door, left Truthteller on the bedside table and climbed into bed with me immediately after, no questions, no waiting for an invitation.

Of course, I knew if I told him to leave he would do so. It was always my choice. But tonight it appeared maybe he needed this contact as much as I.

"You're safe" Azriel murmurs, gathering me into his arms.

I choke on a sob, curling into his side and resting my head on his bare chest. Usually, when he was shirtless it was an effort to keep focused but at the moment it was just further proof he was here, alive and free. It was proof he was safe.

"It's not my safety that scares me" I breathe. Once again, we were breaking from normal pattern. Previous nights, it had always been my screaming waking him, he would run in, ask if I wanted him to stay, I would agree and then he'd hold me until I fell asleep.

I never talked about the nightmares I had, never. Not even the first time...

"No!" she screamed, thrashing violently in the bedsheets, almost tearing them apart, "No, don't take-NO!"

"Y/N!" Azriel yells, bursting in through the door at the same time she awakens, clutching the sheets to her chest, sweat slick hair plastered to her forehead, tears streaming down in uncontrolled rivers of fear and pain, "Y/N, what is it?!"

"Nothing, Az, I'm sorry for waking you" she sighed, running a hand through her hair, "It was just a nightmare, I've had them for a while."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Azriel frowned, Truthteller lowering to his side.

"It wasn't necessary. I've been dealing with these since-before I got back."

"Would you..." Azriel trailed off, "Do you want me to stay?"

"No, I..." she began to reject the proposal but suddenly changed her mind, "Actually, yes, please."

Azriel nods, placing Truthteller on the bedside table before moving to open up the covers, having since nervously been put in some semblance of order as they had spoken but he stops mid-way noting that her resolve had shaken - that she was now shaking, violent sobs wracking her body.

"Y/N" Azriel said and the one word was enough to break her.

"Azriel" she sobbed, tears flowing freely again, face screwed up into an expression of unfiltered pain.

"Y/N" Azriel whispers, sitting on the bed and pulling her onto his lap. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, securing herself to him as she sobbed into his neck until the sun rose.

She had fallen asleep that way, her legs and arms secured around him in a tight embrace, tears dried and leaving her skin slightly sticky with the moisture.

He had placed her down in the bed after he had fixed the sheets with one hand, the other supporting her body, becoming limp each second sleep overtook her.

He had intended to leave but she had subconsciously clung to him with a grip so strong it had surprised him and rather than risk waking you or, worse, upsetting you, he had climbed into bed beside her, tucking her into his chest so her face rested right where his heart was.

He had found it a very fitting place for her to rest.

Azriel had done it every night since, every time a nightmare came around unless you wished otherwise, which had never happened as of yet. Even if you didn't scream out, his shadows were so attuned to you, he would sense it and come in anyhow - where you would be sitting cross legged on the bed, hugging yourself or crying or just staring at the ceiling with a dead expression on your face.

Having him with you, holding you in his arms, stroking your hair, legs intertwined and breathing synchronised. It was the best remedy for your fear.

A cure.

"Then what does scare you?" Azriel asks, his voice hesitant to bring up a memory that causes you pain.

"You do" I breathe, "My nightmares are always about you."

Azriel breathes in deeply, "I scare you?"

"No, no!" I rebuke, "No, not you personally! My nightmares always involve you...they..."

"You don't have to tell me" Azriel whispers

"I think I need to" I admit, "These dreams, they're obviously not getting better. Maybe telling someone...maybe telling someone will help."

Azriel waits patiently. Content to listen or to completely disregard everything you said if that was what you wished, the way he'd always been.

"Most nights, A-Amarantha comes back" I explain, stumbling over the name, "And this time she takes you instead of Rhys and other nights...other nights it had always been you that was taken."

"And she took you because she knew he was hiding something" Azriel confirmed, it was the little knowledge he did have of Amarantha and her motives, "So to punish him further, she took you, his only living relative, and..."

"And that's all you know" I nod, "But what you don't know is that...she didn't just punish Rhys. She punished me too."

Azriel stiffens in my arms, his hand momentarily freezing in it's soothing stroking up and down my spine.

"If any of it gets to be too much, I can stop" I say

"No" Azriel shakes his head, "You lived it. I can at least stand to hear about it, especially if it helps you."

"She used to...make me watch." I spat in disgust, "While she...basically raped Rhys I had to watch. Everything she did to him, the malice in her eyes while she did what she did, the enjoyment in knowing he was doing this not for her but to protect what he loved...Worse, we both had to pretend it was normal. That we enjoyed it. If we didn't, our facade as the Court of Nightmares would fall apart and we couldn't let that happen."

Peering up at Azriel, I stopped for a moment to assess his reaction. His eyes were hard as flint, like chips of hazel ice. He nodded softly, encouraging me to continue.

"On the odd occasion she would also...bring me into the scene. It wasn't often, she didn't like it all that much herself it was mainly just to put us on edge. Thankfully, she never made us do anything...to each other. I never touched Rhys once nor he me and I'll always thank the Mother for that but she would still...it was still..."

"You don't need to say what it was" Azriel cuts in, "I know."

Traumatising.

It was traumatising.

"So, when the nightmares come about. It's not Rhys under Am-under her. It's you. I see her with you. Some nights you're faking it like we had to, others you're genuinely enjoying it, and sometimes you're...screaming and-and begging her to stop-" My tears choke off the words and I sob loudly.

He pulls me ever closer in response, hushing me as his hands stroke my hair, "That's not me. It was never me."

"What if it could be?" I cry, "What if another one of her comes around one day and they take you. I couldn't bear it-"

"You could. I had to" Azriel admits. Both comforting and upfront. He would never lie to you and to say it would never happen again could be a lie, "When you were taken, I...Cauldron, I would always try to leave Velaris, damn the consequences. It was always Amren and sometimes Mor and Cass who would pull me off the ledge. I couldn't stand it, thinking about what she could be doing to Rhys but, to you...it was worse. Infinitely worse."

"If it ever does happen, I need you to be strong" Azriel continues, "I will do everything in my power to keep it from happening but if the Mother decides that's how things play out...I will need you to be strong, to protect yourself because the idea of you ever being hurt for the sake of me...it's not right."

"It would be" I sniffle, "To keep you safe, I would do anything. I did. Rhys did."

"You'll never have to again" Azriel resolves, kissing the top of my head, "Never again."

I exhale loudly, making a sudden decision that could change everything.

"Azriel?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too" His response was automatic. I mean, we had said it a dozen times but this...was different.

"I don't mean it like that" I admit, peering up at him sheepishly, "I'm in love with you. I have been for a...a very long time."

Azriel's silence spurs me on to speak more, explain myself.

"I understand if you don't feel the same and I'm sorry I never told you earlier but at first it was a crush and then...then I got taken and I was stuck without you for so long. After that, I knew it was love and not a crush on my part but I couldn't say anything. I just...I couldn't. But then you came in every night to help with my nightmares and that was-"

My words are cut off as Azriel takes my chin in his hand, dipping his head and kisses me. Soft, tentative, comforting. It wasn't the kind of kiss that made your toes curl or butterflies erupt, it was the kind of kiss that admitted everything words could never express.

He pulls back only slightly, leaving you nose to nose.

"I have always loved you" Azriel breathes, "From the moment I saw you barrelling into the Illyrian camps, bright smile and unruly attitude."

"I love you" I smile, tears sliding down my face, - happy tears, "So much"

"And I you."

After that, neither of you slept alone ever again.

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 3 years

Text

Monstrous Secrets Chapter 8

Eris Vanserra x reader

Word Count: 1720

Summary: You and a couple of the guys have a heart-to-heart

You were home, or rather, you were in the physical place where you lived. It was difficult to call Velaris ‘home’ when your home was really a person, your mate. It was even harder to call this place home since Azriel started looking at you like he wanted to spit on you at any given moment. You’d expected to be treated that way once everything came to light, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t loathe it with every fiber of your being.

It was in a fit of this general discontent that you found yourself sitting on the ground of the balcony outside the House of Wind’s library. A bottle of wine, half empty already based on the weight of it, dangled from your fingertips as you stared blankly into the fire and longed for the male that could make such flames dance like sprites. Eris’s notes from your time apart rested on the ground before you, some resting against or on your leg because you’d simply dropped them after reading.

“Cass told me I’d find you here,” Rhys said as his feet entered your field of view. “Though I’ll admit I thought he was exaggerating how much you’d been drinking.”

Your eyes darted over to the other two, empty bottles you’d abandoned back when you’d been sitting in a chair. “Yes, well, you know how my tolerance is.”

“Considering how many men you’ve drunk under the table? Yes, I’m fully aware.” Now, he brought himself low enough that he could meet your eye on your own level. The most powerful High Lord, kneeling beside his low fae cousin on the ground.

You snorted at the sheer ridiculousness. “Whatcha doing here, Rhys? I figured you’d be off with Feyre.”

“She had things to discuss with Amren or else she’d be here talking to you with me.”

You took another drink. “Well in that case, lay it on me.” Your arms spread wide dramatically, one hand holding the bottle, the other a letter; your wings flared slightly behind you in an effort to keep you balanced. “Ask me anything you want! I assume it’s about that gorgeous mate of mine.”

He rolled his eyes and took the bottle from you. “I won’t insult you bya skiing what Azriel wants me to.” Rhysand took a long drink.

“Oooooh, let me guess!” You did your best to make your face as stoic as the shadowsinger’s. “Have I been selling secrets to the Autumn Court?”

“Close,” he snickered. “Has she been giving away secrets to the Autumn Court?”

You scoffed. “As if I’d give them away for free!”

“Sweetheart, you’d never spill them either way.” His eyes were somber, caring. “You would never betray us like that, so I have no need to ask.”

“Then what do you need to ask?”

“First, I want to ask about your bargain.”

“You makin’ sure I didn’t give away anything important?”

“I want to know that it was your choice to make whatever deal it was.”

Your brain stalled out in light of his genuine concern after so many days of people being wary of you, and your buzz fizzled a little because of it. “It was a deal of protection,” you explained seriously. “He’ll watch my back as long as I watch his sort of thing.” You stole back the bottle to take another drink. “And what a fucking job I did.”

“You couldn’t have done anything against her,” he assured you, “and if you had tried, more likely than not, you’d both be dead right now.”

“Whatever, Rhys,” you scoffed. “What else?”

“You are not less than him because you’re Illyrian.” You’d known the topic was coming, but you didn’t expect him to be quite so blunt. “And if he treats you like you are, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Then you can stop worrying, because he doesn’t. Hasn’t even said anything to imply it--get that look off your face right now. Anything he said to you was an act because we were backed into a nightmare of a corner, and you know it. Anyway, he hasn't made any jabs implying it--accidentally or otherwise--since we first got together.”

“Put a stop to that, did you?” He was smirking as he swiped the bottle back to drink once again.

“Of course.” You hesitated. “But he and I are both aware of what others will think; just look at your parents. That’s why, or at least part of why, we kept quiet about the whole thing.”

Rhysand was nodding as if pleased.

“That all you’ve got, cousin?”

A little snort escaped his nose. “As far as being concerned goes, we’ll say yes for now.”

“And as far as everything else?”

“Since you’ve so cruelly left your poor cousin in the dark about your relationship for--how long was it again?”

“‘Bout five hundred years--”

“Five hundred years! Because you've left me in the dark for so long, I want to know everything about the two of you.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.” He waved a hand a little. “That you’re willing to share, of course.”

“Rhys . . . I don’t . . .” You weren’t used to this. You’d never had to share anything about your relationship before. You weren’t good at talking about yourself. “I don’t know where to start.”

A low hum rumbled through the air along with the telling thuds of someone else’s boots.

“Why don’t you start with that letter you’re holding?” Cassian abruptly dropped down next to you, so close he was lightly pressed against your side. It was such a casual closeness that the pair of you had had for centuries, and you didn't realize how much you loved it until it was missing. Its presence now brought tears to your eyes, but none fell.

Blinking them back, you stammered, “Um. It’s how we talked . . . when we couldn’t see each other.” A self-deprecating chuckle ripped its way up from your throat. “Apparently he’d been sending them since just after Amarantha, and I never knew since I don’t live down there anymore. I’m only just now getting around to reading them.” Carelessly, you handed it over to Cassian. “You can read it if you want; I was going through them all, but I can’t exactly see straight enough to read anymore.”

He eyed you warily before opening it gently. Clearing his throat before he read,

“I hope you are doing well, and I hope moreso that you have not finally come to your senses and decided to leave me. I’ve been trying to keep my emotions from bothering you in case you have, but Father has proven to be harsher than ever before in light of everything that has happened over the last half-century. It’s all I can do to keep him from deciding to hunt down Lucien.

Cauldron, I don’t even know if you’re receiving these messages or if you even care and yet here I am droning on about my own problems. I’ll leave this here, then.

I miss you, and I love you always,

Eris”

Both men were silent for a breath.

“Who would have thought that Eris Vanserra of all people would be so rambling in a letter?” Cassian eventually teased--only slightly awkwardly--to break the quiet.

“He stopped trying to be eloquent in our notes about five years in.” Your buzz was definitely on the way out now, and you found yourself listlessly leaning against Cassian. Neither male commented about the more romantic sentiments in the letter. You wondered why that was. For your privacy or their own comfort so they didn’t have to think about the fact that Eris did in fact have feelings.

“What’s the first thing you think of when you think about him?” Rhysand prompted quietly, obviously wanting to know more about the relationship despite the awkward aura that’d descended upon the little group.

It may have been because you were actively looking at a fire, but you didn’t really have to think about the words that came tumbling out of your mouth. “Did you know that he can make shapes out of flames? He used to make little dogs and foxes to play with Lucien when Beron would upset him.”

“I thought he hated that kid,” Cassian mused.

“He had to keep his distance to keep Beron’s attention away from him; he swore to his mother that he’d protect him.”

“What else comes to mind?”

You swallowed thickly. “He interrogated me about how to care for my wings when I showed up injured once.”

Rhys’s violet eyes flashed. “Injured?”

“Took a bad crash through some trees on the way to see him; I think I was dodging some scouts. Either way, he hounded me about it until I taught him all I could.”

“Seriously?” Cassian again.

“Yeah.” You could feel the dopey smile spread across your face, but you didn’t want to stop it. “Cleaning, first-aid, the whole deal. And the best part? He never has cold hands.”

“Unlike you, huh?” Rhys teased. “Nothing but cold hands.”

“Truer words never spoken,” and unexpected but familiar voice said from behind you.

As soon as you laid eyes on him, you were stumbling to your feet.

There was a warmth in his eyes that had nothing to do with flames when he caught you and pulled you close.

Immediately, you buried your face in his neck. “How?” you whispered into the pale skin there.

Eris’s hand moved to rest atop your wing where it was tucked against your back, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. “That would be a question for your High Lady.”

You glanced over your shoulder and saw that, sure enough, Feyre was now holding hands with the now-standing Rhys. “I thought you were with Amren?”

“I lied,” Rhys shrugged. “Eris was down there plotting with Keir, so I asked her to go grab him for you since you’ve been feeling down.”

When tears started welling up in your eyes, you blamed the alcohol. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, little cousin. Now, I think it’s time for us to turn in.” His eyes shifted to look at your mate; surprisingly his gaze wasn’t near as icy as you would have expected. “Take care of her.”

“Until my dying breath.”

“Never a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ with you people,” Cassian scoffed, “is there?”

You smirked on behalf of your husband. “Never.”

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra imagine #eris imagine #eris x reader #acotar imagine #a court of thorns and roses imagine #reader insert

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