#I just think if we had to spend damn near every chapter with an LI we’ve had ones that were far more likeable and interesting in other books

[yourqueenb]

RWB unfortunately only gets worse as the weeks go by 💀 MC is as two-dimensional as they come. And literally her every waking moment is spent either talking to/about Drew, hanging out with Drew, or thinking about Drew. It’s pathetic and annoying. Genuinely don’t think any of the MCs in PB’s other cheap romances were this damn bad. And the thing is that if Drew were even remotely as interesting and attractive as they try to make him out to be, maybe the story could still be a bit fun despite all of this. But he has about as much draw as a bonfire would on the hottest day of summer in Death Valley

[rita-rae-siller]

The Lies They Tell

A little teaser of chapter 1, which is live on my Wattpad!

“You look exceptionally sour tonight, Your Grace.” Aalvor nudged her arm. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him give her the same look he always did when he knew something was on her mind.

“I hate her,” Alura muttered under her breath as she shrugged him off. It was stupid to let Matilde get under her skin. She knew full well the woman did what—and who—she wanted when she wanted. Any attempt to reprimand her only made things worse. Two weeks spent crossing the desert from the city of Leto in the north back to the capital had been brutal, spent battling with the daytime extremes in temperature and limited access to water. Trudging through the midnight streets in search of her drunken partner was not at all how she wanted to be spending her first night back home.

“Yet you keep going back for more.” Aalvor nudged her again to get her to look at him. “She makes you miserable, Your Grace. Let her go.”

“I can’t,” Alura replied.

Aalvor scoffed. “How many more times must we do this before you realize that she will never change? I have serious doubts that this is what you want.”

“We all have our trials to overcome,” Alura shrugged helplessly. Her needs paled in comparison to the greater good. Matilde was one of the many burdens her duty to her emperor required her to bear.

“And yours tend to be self-inflicted. You always did love to make stupid decisions.” Aalvor gave her a look that clearly said they would be discussing the topic again at some point. He rolled his shoulders and peered into a nearby alley with a tired sigh. “Where do you think she is? We’ve checked damn near every brothel in the district, but she’s nowhere to be seen.”

“There’s one stop left; the Pink Pearl.”

“She’s rarely there—too high brow for her tastes.”

“Well, it’s the only place left to look for her. I doubt she would just go back home after what she did this time.”

“Let’s be quick about it before this stench makes us all ill.” Aalvor picked up the pace, holding a hand up to his face with a look of disgust.

The Pink Pearl was the city’s largest and most expensive brothel. It dominated the heart of the Red Light District, triple the size of any other. Four stories high, and spanning nearly an entire block, it would have been an impressive building were it not for the noises echoing out of nearly every window. Alura couldn’t keep track of how many high-profile citizens she’d seen coming and going from the establishment. For that reason alone, Matilde rarely ever visited. The risk of being seen by someone who knew the emperor or one of the Cardinals was too high. Tonight, however, she must have been feeling especially bold and brazen.

[theladyofdeath]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 6}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelb’s blogs! >> @snelbz​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

The week had passed by in a blur and by the time Saturday came, all Nesta wanted to do was sleep in. 

But she couldn’t.

Sleeping in wasn’t possible anymore. 

Her alarm had been set for seven, but she woke up with the sun peeking through her curtains at 6:45. She looked at the baby monitor on the nightstand. Nyx was still sound asleep in his crib.

With a groan, she covered her head with her pillow and tried to shut out the light, but it was no use. 

She was wide awake. 

May as well enjoy a cup of coffee before Nyx wakes up. Nesta tossed her legs over the side of the bed and tossed her robe over her pajama shorts and tank top. After pulling her long, golden-brown hair back, she was tiptoeing through the hall and down the stairs.

Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could hear noise coming from the kitchen.

The sizzling of bacon being dropped into a skillet.

She had expected it to be Cassian, of course, but what she wasn’t expecting was what he was wearing.

Or, she supposed, what he wasn’t wearing. 

She wasn’t sure if she should go back upstairs, to give him privacy. But he was the one who had chosen to come downstairs like this, in one of the common areas of the house, so Nesta went ahead and walked into the kitchen. She aimed straight for the coffee pot, grateful to see a fresh pot already in the carafe. “Good morning.”

He turned towards her, that broad, muscular chest on full display, thanks to the white towel wrapped around his hips being the only thing he had on. “Morning, Nes. Hope you want breakfast.”

She continued to make her coffee, which was usually easy, considering it was one spoonful of sugar in black coffee, but she was having a distinctly hard time focusing on what she was doing.

She had seen Cassian without a shirt in before, at the few times they’d both been over to swim in Feyre and Rhysand’s pool, but there was something distinctly different about seeing him wearing a pair of swimming trunks and that towel. That towel that was sitting so low on his hips, she knew there could be nothing underneath it.

He didn’t even seem to notice, didn’t even seem to think about her reaction to him standing nearly nude in the kitchen, making breakfast. His hair was still wet, although the ends seemed to be drying. 

She wondered if this is what he looked like in a towel, what he would look like in the shower.

She quickly shook the thought away, even though it couldn’t help but linger in the back of her mind.

“I’ve got eggs, bacon, and toast,” he said, his back to her. She watched his muscles expand as he moved pans around and turned off the burners. “Simple, but it’ll fill you up. We’ll need all the energy we can this morning.”

Nesta cleared her throat and gave him a nod as he turned to face her. It was true, and Nesta was unexcited about it. The two of them would spend their day trying to find a part-time nanny for Nyx for the days that the two of them were both at work at the same time.

They’d had plenty of applicants, some of whom seemed promising. 

Nesta had her fingers crossed.

A plate was set down in front of Nesta, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at it. There was a smiley face made out of a bacon mouth and egg-eyes. Another plate was set in the middle of the table, piled high with toast and jam. 

“What am I, two?” she asked, gesturing to the breakfast face in front of her.

Cassian chuckled. His plate was piled high with bacon and eggs. No room for faces. He sat across from her and leaned on the table with his elbows. “A little smiley face never hurt anybody.”

She said nothing, just picked up her fork and cut into the eggs. She hadn’t even told him she liked her eggs over-medium, but she was glad she did as the semi-runny yolk spilled out onto her plate. Nesta thought about starting something about it, about asking about food preferences before he assumed something, but it was too early and she hadn’t gotten to enjoy nearly enough of her cup of coffee. It was too early to fight. So instead she picked up a crispy piece of bacon and used it to pick up some of the egg, before popping it into her mouth.

Her eyes slipped closed and she tried not to moan.

How could a simple breakfast taste so damn good?

When she opened her eyes again, she assumed she hadn’t been completely successful in stopping her appreciative noises, because he was smirking at her as he brought his own coffee to his lips.

“Told you I make a mean breakfast,” he said, reaching for a piece of toast and slathering it in blackberry jam.

Clearing her throat, she ignored him and continued eating until her plate was completely empty. Just as she was about to get up to rinse it off, he stood, adjusting that damn towel to fit more snuggly around his hips, and picked up both of their plates. She tried her best not to watch the muscles shift in his back as he rinsed the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. Tried her best, but found herself staring as she sipped from her coffee cup, but snapped herself out of it and got up as well, making Nyx a bottle for when he woke up.

As she shook the formula up, she asked, “Will you be putting clothes on before the applicants get here, or should I warn them this is going to be a clothes-optional interview?”

He glanced at her over a shoulder, as he began to clean the pan he’d cooked the bacon and eggs in, but turned right back to the sink. “Does my nakedness bother you, Nes?”

Damn him, she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“No,” she snapped. “And stop calling me that.”

“So, you like me in a towel, then?” he went on, turning the sink off as he put the final plate in the drain rack.

“You’re exhausting, you know that?” she asked, turning to face him full on.

He turned to her then, one brow raised as he ran a hand through his nearly-dried hair. “I’m just saying, if it bothers you, I’ll be sure to dress before I come down to slave away for you over the stove. But, if it doesn’t bother you, I have to admit that I like to completely dry before I put on clothes.”

No, it didn’t bother her.

No, she didn’t mind having her breakfast with a view.

No, she wouldn’t mind reaching out and feeling just how hard and defined his abs really were.

No, she would never admit to that.

Instead, she raised her chin and said, “I should wake Nyx up so he’s ready before the first applicant arrives.”

“So formal,” he grinned. “And here I thought we were having a nice, pleasant morning.”

A soft cry came from upstairs and she was immediately in motion, all thoughts of those abs and whether or not water from his shower would well in the defined divots of them gone. Snatching up the bottle she’d set on the counter, she turned and headed for the living room and the stairs beyond. “Put some clothes on,” was all

she called back to him as she hurried for Nyx’s nursery.

*

Nesta shut the front door, falling back against the wood, listening as the final interview made her way down the cobblestone walkway.

She sighed and made her way into the kitchen. She needed a glass of wine.

A bottle of wine was more like it, but a glass would do for now.

She found Cassian already standing behind a chair at the kitchen table, the resumes of each applicant spread out before him. “So,” she said, reaching into the fridge for the bottle of chilled, white wine. “What did you think?”

He blew out an equally exhausted breath, before shaking his head. “There was…a lot of variety.”

He was right. There was a woman who had to be in her seventies, who had brought an entire notebook of lesson plans, with her goal to have the one-year-old fluent in French before his third birthday. Then there was the thirteen-year-old who had lied about her age on the application, but promised she could ride her bike the mile and a half from her house every day they needed her. Just not until after three on school days.

“Too much variety,” she agreed. “That last woman was so boring she literally put Nyx to sleep.”

It was true. Nyx was currently sound asleep in the middle of his playmat in the living room, surrounded by his toys. 

“I didn’t mind the retired librarian,” Nesta said, filling her wine glass to the brim. 

Cassian scrunched his nose. “She smelled weird.”

Nesta scoffed. “I don’t think Nyx will be minding her smell. She was smart and was obviously good with him.”

“So was Viviane,” Cassian said, picking up an application off the table.

Nesta blinked. “Viviane?”

“Yeah, Viviane,” he said, showing her the application. “Smart. Bachelors in early childhood education. Lives three miles down the road.”

“Young, blonde, hot,” Nesta added, taking a drink.

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “So you do remember her.”

“I remember that she didn’t have near enough experience and she only listed one reference,” Nesta replied, taking the application and resume from him. She looked it over again. “She can’t be more than twenty-two years old.”

“What does her age have to do with it?” He asked, leaning down on the chair and looking at her. “She’s got good qualifications and Nyx loved her. She was one of the few he actually laughed and wanted to play with.”

It was true, he’d been extremely uncomfortable around most of the applicants. He cried the second a couple of them looked at him and had even spit up on one of them. But he had giggled with Viviane and genuinely seemed to like her.

“She hasn’t worked at a legit daycare or anything, but she’s been a one-on-one nanny before,” Cassian pointed out, as Nesta was reading the same thing on her copy of the resume. “And she said she could get us the numbers of her previous families. She just didn’t want to give them out without asking permission.” He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sounds like she’d respect our privacy, too. But go ahead, keep thinking of reasons she’s not a good candidate.”

Aside from her perky tits and ass, I can’t think of any. The words almost came from her lips, but Nesta ground her teeth.

“We have to agree on someone, and Viviane can start immediately,” Cassian continued. 

Nesta stared at him for a moment.

He stared back, watching as she sipped from her glass. “I swear to the Mother, Cassian, if you fuck the nanny-.”

Cassian barked an unamused laugh. “You think I have absolutely no self control, don’t you?”

“I think you’re basing this choice off of what you want, not what Nyx needs,” she said, not breaking their eye contact.

“She may be hot, but fucking her would be a lot more trouble than it’s worth,” he admitted. “And Nyx is half Rhys. Don’t forget that. He liked to appreciate pretty things just as much as I do, and I’m sure Nyx will, too.”

Scoffing, Nesta set her glass down and went into the living room to get Nyx. “He’s a baby, not a grown man, with raging hormones. You’re disgusting.” She picked him up, still fast asleep from hearing about the nuances of the differences in a sitter and nanny from the old crone they’d spoken with last. “Call Viviane, let her know she starts tomorrow at eight.”

Cassian met her on the stairs. “I don’t work tomorrow, I can watch him.”

Nesta shrugged, but continued up, carrying a drooling Nyx to his nursery. She hadn’t noticed how close to his nap time it had gotten. “Think of it as an exercise in self-control then, and a test run. See how she does with Nyx and see if you can keep your dick to yourself.”

“I’ve kept it from you pretty easily, haven’t I?” 

Nesta refrained from responding as she carried Nyx into the nursery and laid him down, cracking the door open behind her as she left. Walking back downstairs, she retrieved her wine, purposefully ignoring him, though she felt his eyes on her the whole time. She wouldn’t answer his question, was doing her best not to think about it, especially compounded with memories of him this morning.

She had no idea the muscles leading down by the hips could really be so defined. She thought the illustrious V that dragged your eye downwards on most male models was photoshopped in. Cassian, though, very much proved it not only existed, but that it was as distracting as she’d imagined it could be.

“I’m taking a bath,” she announced, heading back for the stairs. “Let Viviane know she got the job, but she can start whenever you want. If you’ll be off tomorrow, we don’t need to pay her to be here.”

She didn’t wait for his reply, and was in her room with the door shut a few seconds later. She took her time filling the bathtub with the things she found under the counter. There were oils and salts and bubbles and soaps, and by the time Nesta settled into the bubbly, warm water, the entire bathroom smelled like a spa. She sipped her wine, refusing to let her mind wander back to Cassian that morning, but by the time her glass was empty, her head was swimming and the water had begun to go cold.

She got out of the tub, watching as the water swirled down the drain and began toweling off.

And then, she had an idea, to give Cassian a taste of his own medicine.

She grabbed a clean, fluffy, white towel and wrapped it around her chest. And then she headed down to the kitchen for a refill.

Cassian was lying on the couch, one arm tossed behind his head, the other using the remote to flip through the stations on the TV.

He caught Nesta the moment her feet appeared at the top of the stairs.

Nesta’s heartbeat a little bit faster with every step she took.

“This is a new look for you,” Cassian said, simply, even though his voice had lowered an octave since the last conversation they had. “Especially considering you took the master bedroom so that you had your own private bathroom to avoid such run-ins with me.”

Nesta tossed her long, wet hair over her shoulder. “I figured it was okay since you’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no desire to crawl into bed with me. I deemed it safe territory.”

The glass still dangled between her fingers and she heard the couch creak as she turned the corner into the kitchen. She may have grabbed a towel that wasn’t quite as wide as the rest of them, one that didn’t quite come as far down her thighs. But if he wanted to prance around in nothing but his skin, she could do the same.

They were both adults. She had no interest in sleeping with him - so she told herself, at least - and he’d said he had no interest in her.

She poured what was left of the bottle in her glass and threw it into the trash with a clunk. She hadn’t realized she had so little left, but was fairly sure another bottle was in the wine cabinet.

Which was in the living room.

When she re-entered the living room, the volume on the TV was nearly silent and Cassian was sitting up, rather than laying down. One arm was draped across the back of the couch and the other still clutched the remote.

She could feel his eyes on her and she took another drink before reaching around the back of the cabinet for the key and unlocking it.

Not only did she grab another bottle of her favorite wine, but also a good bottle of whiskey, too.

“Planning on getting wasted?” He asked, quietly. 

“Just stocking up,” she replied, locking the cabinet behind her. “Care for a glass?”

Cassian looked around the room, as if she would be talking to anyone else other than her. “Sure.”

“Whiskey, I assume?” she asked, going back into the kitchen for another glass. 

The television was a little bit louder when she returned, but not by much.

She sat on the opposite end of the couch, and set the glasses on the coffee table in front of them. After retrieving the glass bottles, she poured.

Cassian remained perfectly quiet as she did so. 

“Is this a truce?” he asked, as Nesta held the glass out toward him.

“This is a celebratory drink to commemorate finding a nanny today,” Nesta said, although her voice held no warmth. “No matter how young and inexperienced and doomed-to-fail she is.”

She held up her wine glass.

Cassian snorted as he clinked his glass against hers.

She wasn’t paying any attention to whatever he had playing on the TV, and she had a feeling he didn’t either, not as she could feel his stare burning into her. Enough so that she crossed her legs, unintentionally causing the towel to raise even higher attention on the outside of her thigh. It almost exposed her entire hip, which she wasn’t anticipating, but she had made the decision to come down here, to tease him by showing him what he had done to her. She wouldn’t let him see how much his gaze was affecting her.

Even if it was just the wine.

Or so she told herself.

She was just about to stand, to make some excuse for going upstairs when he set his glass down on the coffee table and cleared his throat.

“New house rule. Clothes are required in the common areas. Kitchen, living room, dining room,” he said, ticking them off one by one. “Bedrooms and bathrooms are the only places where this is allowed.”

He gestured towards her, without looking, to make sure his point was understood.

“Why?” She asked innocently, and then she threw his own words back into his face. “Does my nakedness bother you, Cass?”

“Quite the opposite,” he admitted, adjusting himself.

Nesta pretended she didn’t notice.

“I thought you had no issue keeping yourself in check with me,” Nesta said, her voice low. “I thought you weren’t some untamed male with raging hormones.”

“I’m not,” he said, reaching to refill his glass. “At least, not until a beautiful woman is sitting a foot away from me, soaked, in a towel, pouring me whiskey.”

“I’m not soaked,” she said, without thinking it through. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

When Cassian looked at her, he grinned, but his eyes were dark. “I meant your hair.”

Nesta knew her plan had immediately backfired, either that or she’d had far too much to drink, so she simply nodded and stood heading back for the staircase.

“Nes?”

She turned back to look at him, halfway up the staircase.

He was smirking, that glass of whiskey resting on the arm of the couch. “If you ever do find yourself soaked, you know where to find me.”

She was up the stairs and slamming her door in a flash, trying to ignore his quiet laughter.

[fanmoose12]

the devil you know

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Moblit Berner, Zeke Yeagar, Armin Arlert

Genres: Action / Drama

Summary: Can you still miss a person, if everything you knew about them was a lie?

Сhapter 4/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Every single night, she was tormented by the same nightmare. Every single night, the same memory replayed behind her closed eyelids. She saw that fateful night, the night when she had decided she couldn’t keep pretending anymore.

It was the night before the great battle, and, as always, Levi fell asleep in her bed, curled around her body, holding on to her almost desperately, as though he was afraid that should he let go even for a second, she’d vanish.

Levi thought that his embrace could keep her with him. Hange wished for it to be the truth.

Getting out of the circle of his arms was a considerable effort, he held her too close, too tight, and Hange… Hange didn’t want to leave that sweet embrace. Levi was wrapped around her like a vice, he was a poison ivy that had its twigs engraved so deep it reached to the very depths of her heart.

Hange had to cut it out, to cut him out. And, by gods, was it an unwanted progress.

But after a few moments of quiet struggling, of silent curses and pants, she slipped out from his embrace and their bed. That small victory was well-earned, but not enjoyed. Hange felt her heart break the moment Levi’s arms were no longer around her. Without him, she felt so cold. With every inch she put between them, the ice that began covering her heart continued growing.

Next, she packed her scarce belongings. She wanted to take more, she couldn’t do it. Everything she’d take back home – her uniform with Wings of Freedom splayed proudly on the back, her heavy notebooks with dozens of notes and sketches done by her beloved assistant, that book Erwin had once given her, the scarf Mike had knitted for her, the flower Levi had gifted her, the very same one she treasured just dearly as the memory of him confessing after the gift had been presented, - all of it was going to be looked at and thoroughly analyzed. By her Marleyan comrades, friends and possible prosecutors.

She could take nothing that could be conceived as dubious, but that jacket, the one that was shared by both of them and still held his scent and warmth— she wasn’t strong enough to leave it behind.

So she put it on, praying for it to give her strength.

A long way home was awaiting her.

And Hange couldn’t leave without giving him, the one man she truly loved, a goodbye kiss.

“I know you won’t,” she whispered against his brow, her fingers caressing his hair with a feather light touch, “but please try to forgive me. It was out of my control, Levi.”

It was his fault too. When Levi came, the ground had been kicked from under her feet. And a simple mission turned into a tragedy.

When she gathered enough strength to leave the room, the hallway was empty. Hange knew it would be, she was familiar with the workings of Survey Corps like the back of her hand. She strolled through the well-known hallways without fear, trailing her hand along the walls.

The Military Headquarters back at Liberio was better built than this building. Even Warriors’ barracks, despite being designed to hold Eldians, were built so much better. Those buildings were sturdier, more technologically equipped, much more comfortable.

But, god damn it, she was going to miss Survey Corps’ headquarters, this shitty building that was situated in the middle of nowhere.

Compared to Marley, everything in Paradise was ancient, outdated, useless. But it didn’t stop her from loving that fucked up little island. It didn’t stop her from loving people that were living there, despite them being branded as monsters by her nation.

She turned the corner, took the stairs, and, at the end of it, just near the exit Hange saw a shadow.

She meant to duck behind the corner, to run and hide, but the form of that shadow was all too familiar, and she was just as familiar to that shadow. Hange had no choice but to stop and surrender to another cruel twist of fate.

“Squad Leader!” Moblit ran up to her, smiling and endearing as always.

Fucking hell, and Hange thought that saying goodbye to Levi would be the hardest task. However, Levi, at least, hadn’t been awake.

“Are you nervous, as well?" he asked, curiously peering into her eyes. Was she nervous? That was an understatement. "Personally, I can’t sleep! I’ve been thinking and thinking, and I even wrote a letter to my Momma, do you remember her?”

Of course, Hange remembered Moblit’s Momma, the soft and caring Mrs. Berner, a far kinder woman than Hange’s Momma was.

“I told her about our mission and how proud I am for participating in it. And… I added a second part, the one that would be sent in case…”

“No.” Hange shook her head resolutely, her hands clenching into fists. No, no, no, she refused to even entertain that foul idea. Impulsively, she took a step forward, circling her arms around her sweet assistant. “No, Moblit,” she repeated, voice muffled by his shirt. If he heard the quiet sniffling, Hange didn’t care. Moblit never minded her eccentricities. “You will survive. You will survive this shit and the next one you will undoubtedly face. You will make your Momma and everyone else around you proud.” You will make me proud. “And you will leave a glorious, happy and long life. You promise me?”

“Squad Leader…”

“Promise me!” she demanded, bordering on desperation.

In that moment, the dream always divided from reality.

In reality, Hange waited until he had given her a promise, and then feigned exhaustion, leaving Moblit to use another exit. But in a dream, Moblit made her stay, coercing her to have a cup of tea with him. And in the candle-light lit mass hall, they met Erwin, then Levi joined their impromptu party, gluing himself to her side and blinking sleepily at everyone who had gathered.

In a dream, Hange never left. She stayed under Moblit’s care, was guided by Erwin’s wisdom, was surrounded by Levi’s love.

And that’s why that dream was a cruel, excruciating nightmare. It showed her things that could never be. It showed her the future she desperately wanted to come true. Escaping from the clutches of that fantasy was hard, painful. And if that was complicated….

Well, waking up in that bed was pure agony.

Every single morning, Hange woke up lost and disoriented, and had to spend a few long moments, making sense of it all.

Her first instinct was to stretch her arms, to yawn and reach out – to warmth and comfort, to loving embrace, husky voice and reluctant kiss. To him. To everything she had lost. To everything she never actually had.

But she was alone in that bed.

There was no Levi, lying next to her, complaining about her morning breath. There was no Squad Leader Hange, no four-eyes , who would smile and start singing in Levi’s ear.

There was only she, a broken, empty shell of a person.

A Marleyan who fell for an Eldian. A war chief that devised weapons for her enemies. A fool with twisted loyalties and convoluted goals.

She betrayed her homeland, she didn’t have a home.

She was abandoned by her fellow countrymen, was rejected by the people closest to her.

But, strangely, as pathetic as she was, as miserable and wretched, she was not alone. Even in her sorry state, despite her vile betrayal, she still had a friend.

He was by all means her enemy, a monster and a devil, and yet he saved her life more times than she could count.

Even now, when her lies had been discovered and her villainy uncovered, he remained by her side, continued to care for her.

If all Eldians were truly as monstrous as she had been told since her birth, then how to make sense if the existence of one extremely brave, inexplicably kind Moblit Berner? Hange, as genius as she was, couldn’t understand him, couldn’t explain why someone as good and bright as him had decided to stick with her.

“Good morning!” he walked into her room with a smile, carrying her breakfast on a plate.

He had been repeating the exact same routine every day for the past month. He had been doing this ever since Erwin had appointed him as her assistant.

In that room, that bed, nostalgia, memories and regrets were impossible to escape.

Hange tried telling Moblit that he didn’t have to this, didn't have to care for her as though she was still his comrade. But Moblit was relentless. And she was too lonely and miserable to cut off the only kind soul that remained loyal to her.

“I managed to get your favorite biscuits this morning,” he continued, moving around the room to put the cutlery down on a table and open the curtains to let the sunshine in. “Almost got in a fight with Sasha because of it.”

Despite herself, Hange snickered. Moblit always had that kind of an effect on her. He possessed the uncanny ability to cheer her up with a simple, but heartfelt and caring gesture.

There was only one other person who was better at it than him. But after everything that happened between them… the hell would freeze sooner than she would hear praise and a comforting word from him.

Waving those sullen thoughts away, Hange stretched her arms and rose from the bed. She followed the sweet aroma of biscuits to the table Moblit had set for her.

“Any updates on Gabi and Falco?”

That was the first question she asked every morning. And every morning, Moblit gave her the same disappointing answer.

“I’m sorry,” he ducked his head solemnly. “We didn’t manage to locate them yet.

Hange expected as much. And yet, the lack of news still troubled her. Where were fierce Gabi and adorable Falco? Were they—

She shook her head, pressing lips together. Of course, they were still alive. They were candidates, the best of all best. Mentally repeating that mantra a couple of times, she forced her mind flow into different direction.

“What’s our plan for today?” she asked through a mouthful of biscuits. “Are we going to work on a new uniform again?”

Working on that project was fun. Having Mobllit as her assistant once again was fun. In the moments, when her brain was too occupied with an idea, she could almost pretend that everything was normal. That she was Squad Leader Hange, working with Executive Officer Moblit on a new project. Sometimes, Hange got so lost in that little game inside her head, she even expected for the door to burst open to let a grumpy Captain inside. But, of course, that couldn't happen.

These distant memories, they were comforting. They reminded her of the rare times in her life when she was truly happy. But the past... was in the past.

“Eh, you see…” Moblit raised a hand to his head, scratching the back of it with an apologizing smile. “Armin asked me to look into something. I was actually wondering if you would like to accompany me. I bet you’re getting sick of spending days in these four walls.”

She was starting to feel like a wilting flower, that was true. It would have been nice to go outside. However…

“Am I even allowed to leave this room?”

Moblit winced. “I’m not really sure about it… But I was assigned to look after you. I think it wouldn’t hurt if you go with me. Besides…” he sat on the chair next to her, looking at her almost pleadingly. Oh, Moblit and his perfect puppy eyes, Hange could never resist them. “I’d like to have your company. And, perhaps, your advice as well…”

“Advice?” Hange frowned. “On what? What is your task about exactly?”

“Don’t know if I can tell you,” nevertheless, Moblit leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper. “But they found out that one of the volunteers, Yelena, has been conspiring with Eren. They asked me to interrogate the other volunteer.”

“Oh?” that sounded both ominous and intriguing. Hange curled her lips into a grin and raised an eyebrow. “You want me to use my interrogating skills?”

“No!” paling slightly, Moblit frantically lifted his hands, shaking them from side to side. “No reaping out nails, please! No threats of bloody violence! Just… talk with him.”

She almost forgot how easy it was to tease and embarrass Moblit. Oh, how Hange missed him.

“Alright, I’ll do my best to control the violent urges,” she winked at him, laughing at his scandalous face. “And thank you for inviting me. It’s been ages since I saw the world outside that room.”

“There is another thing I have to ask of you...” Moblit cast his eyes down, playing with the sleeve of his coat. “Technically, I’ll be representing Survey Corps, so…”

Oh. Hange shifted her gaze to the wardrobe, where her old uniform was still hanging. That feeling inside her, she couldn’t quite identify it. Was it shame? Or trepidation?

She showed nothing of it to Moblit. As their eyes met, she faced him with an easy smile.

“Sure, I don’t mind. I do wonder if that thing still fits me.”

“It is. It always will.”

The remark was short, it could be read as meaningless. But Moblit’s voice was deep and gravely, full of conviction. Hange tilted her head, stealing a moment to study him more closely. He looked back at her, his hazel eyes honest and kind.

A lump in her throat was thick enough to make it hard to breathe. It brought tears to her eyes. Hange closed them tightly, to keep the tears from falling down.

“I need a moment,” she murmured, facing away from Moblit, “I’ll be ready in five.”

“I’ll be waiting in the hallway,” he said and let her be.

___

Walking through the streets of Sina was both pleasant and excruciating.

Feeling the sun on her cheeks and the wind in her hair after so many days of being confined to a one single room was enjoyable, enough to put a smile on her lips. And Sina, so very different from Liberio, was a lovely city with interesting architecture and narrow clean streets.

But these places were too familiar, the alleyways etched into her mind too deeply. And the uniform… the long green coat fitted her too well, and, at the same time, suffocated her. The shiny Wings of Freedom were burning her even through the clothes.

This proud emblem, it wasn’t hers. She wasn’t worthy of wearing it.

And the looks people had been given her, the awe and pride— fuck, Hange would rather prefer they cursed and flanged stones at her.

“Their smiles make me uncomfortable,” Moblit confessed. “They used to throw shit at us after every expedition. But now that Eren has killed a bunch of people, they suddenly decide that we’re heroes.”

“You always have been heroes.”

You, not we. There was nothing heroic inside of her.

“Remember that tavern?” Moblit’s cheerful voice and excited expression didn’t chase away the shadows completely. But the shadows took a step back, frightened by his light. “We had a glorious fight with MPs there.”

The fond memory brought laughter to her lips. “You almost got your arm broken in that fight.”

Moblit chuckled along with her. “Thanks to you I didn’t. I thought that punch of yours would get that guy obliterated.”

Hange touched her knuckles tenderly. Moblit was right, that was one hell of a punch. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel how the force of the hit had reverberated through her skin, tendons, muscles and down to the bones. Perhaps, that time, she had overdone it. She always had troubles reining in her anger.

“And remember that guy Captain Levi kicked? I see him around from time to time. Because of his broken jaw, he still has trouble speaking clearly.”

Ah, Hange remembered that guy as well. He was red-headed and had an ugly moustache. He also left a nasty bruise on her cheek. Levi’s kick to his jaw was a payback for that.

“Those were the times, huh?” Moblit nudged her, offering a kind smile.

Hange averted her eyes, feeling her lips quiver. Yeah, those were the times. Distant times, now they seemed more like a dream. A dream Hange wouldn’t want to wake up from.

Sensing her discomfort, Moblit steered them to the side, taking their conversation in another direction as well. “Speaking of Captain Levi, I sent him the new uniform. He wrote back that he liked it.”

The uniform she accidentally created with Levi’s size in mind. It was in no way intentional. She thought of Survey Corps’ soldiers when she was making a design. And in her mind, the perfect example of the scout was Levi. She was surprised she still remembered his size. Although, considering how much time she had dedicated to studying his body…

The new uniform was a sudden project, a product of the abundance of free time on her part. She wasn’t going to show it to anyone. Even Moblit found out about it by pure accident, when he stumbled upon her crude drawings. She was surprised he liked it. She was surprised Levi liked it. Did he really, though?

“He actually wrote so?”

“Well, he wrote that it could be useful, and in his words…”

Oh. As high praise as one could get from Levi.

“You write to him?” truthfully, that was another surprise for Hange. She didn’t remember Moblit and Levi have any sort of relationships, especially this close.

“We talk a lot,” Moblit shrugged, looking anywhere but at Hange. She was starting to wonder why, but his next words quickly unveiled the mystery. “Technically, we’re the only adults in Survey Corps, and after you left, we… found that we have a lot in common.”

Well. At least, her betrayal had one good outcome. It gave birth to a new friendship. And destroyed several old ones. Hange winced at the last thought.

“Oh, look where are we!” Moblit once again pulled her out of the abyss with his clear, loud voice. The wonder, added to it, however, seemed a little bit too faked. As smart and sharp as he was, Moblit could never excel at lying and pretending.

Not like she did.

Forcing these thoughts away, Hange followed the direction Moblit was pointing at. She couldn’t help but smile at what came into her sights.

Sina’s pastries. The best bakery in the city. In Hange’s humble opinion, the best bakery in the whole damn world. The one they had back at home, on the corner of the street in Liberio, right next to her apartment, didn’t even compare.

Just looking at the sign made her mouth fill with saliva.

“Moblit,” she grasped at his sleeve, her hold desperate. Her eyes were still trained on that shiny sign made in cursive. “Moblit, I know I’m asking a lot—”

He grinned. “Want me to get you that cherry pie you loved so much?”

Oh god, yes. Right now, Hange wanted it more than anything else.

“I understand it if you can’t. I mean, I’m a prisoner from a foreign country. Isn’t buying pies considered to be treason in this case?”

Moblit chuckled warmly. He looked at her, and his expression was kind and gentle enough to make the saints weep. He curled his hand around her shoulder, and from the place where he touched her, warmth spread through her body. “I wouldn’t mind committing treason for a friend.”

Fuck. Hange felt it once again. Her heart squeezing painfully, her throat constricting, tears welling in her eyes. She had to shut her lids to keep them from falling down her cheeks.

Her eyes still closed, with her voice cracking, she asked, “Would it be weird if I give you a hug right now?”

“Don’t know. Is it weird that I really want that hug?”

Her sob turning into a giggle, Hange surged forward, falling right in Moblit’s waiting arms. He pressed her close, his palm patting her on the back. Hange buried her face in his chest and relaxed against him, inhaling his faint scent of citrus and cinnamon. Sweet and pleasant, just like Moblit.

What was she doing all that time, without him at her side?

Moblit smiled at her as they separated. Hange meant to smile back, but in that exact moment— her stomach gurgled. Loudly.

She cringed.

“So… about that pie?”

“I’m on it,” Moblit promised and darted to the bakery.

___

Perhaps, it was fate. It was destiny, divine intervention, that led her to this moment. To the wooden bench in the park, to the bird’s singing in her ear, to the sweet, heavenly taste in her mouth.

The pie was perfect, so much better than Hange had remembered. It was soft enough to melt in her mouth, leaving a pleasant aftertaste. It was sweet, but not sugary, the cherry toping adding slight bitterness.

Fantastic, the pie was fantastic. If Hange could, she’d stay in that bakery until the end of her days, devouring those phenomenal pastries until she exploded. Ah, what a happy death that would be…

Moblit observed her with an amused grin. “Did they not feed you at all in your Marley?”

“Not like this.” Hange managed, despite her full mouth.

Food in Marley was more diverse than on Paradise. They had more resources, they had a bigger variety of products and ingredients. But Hange was a soldier. She either ate at barracks or she cooked for herself at home. Food, made by army cooks, was nourishing, but lacking in flavor. And the dinners, prepared by her, almost always consisted of something quick and extremely simple.

The only place where Hange could eat to her heart’s content, where food was made out of the best, freshest ingredients and prepared by the most skillful chefs, was the official events, organized by the brass. And as the leader of the research facility, one of the most recognized war chief and the only child of her father, one of the Marleyan’s biggest heroes, Hange was always a welcome guest on these events.

But they were so boring that not even a promise of good food could make her sit until the end of them.

“Well, wait until you try Niccolo’s food. He is a true master.”

“Already did,” her stomach once again gurgled, this time the embarrassing sound was provoked by the memory of Sasha and Connie treating her to some of the maestro’s masterpieces. Sasha certainly was a lucky girl. “I ate so much, I thought I was gonna puke.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” bashfully, Moblit rubbed his neck. “The first time he made food for us, I was eating like the man starved. I was so ashamed, but then I looked around,” he chuckled lowly, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. “And realized I wasn’t the only one.”

“I see you had a lot of fun,” she said, swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth. She wasn’t one of them, and never was. The suddenly appeared sadness was foolish and unwelcome. She had her own friends back home. Perhaps, they still thought about her. Perhaps, they still cared. “And what about that guy you need to interrogate? Is he also an amazing cook?”

“No, he is a soldier, he taught us so much about your technology! He was the one who was in charge of controlling the airship we used to get to Liberio.”

So their new friend was a pilot? And, apparently, a skillful one at that. Navigating through Liberio during all that chaos was certainly a challenge. Hange wondered if she knew him.

“So what is the name of that ace pilot of yours?”

Moblit lifted his chin, something close to pride appearing in his gaze. "He really is amazing. His name is Onyakopon."

Hange's jaw dropped. Her precious pie almost dropped as well. Hadn't she misheard? Onyakopon? The same Onyakopon who had spent almost a year as her understudy? Who taught Hange how to pilot the plane? That Onyakopon?

Could it really be? Could they really meet here, after so many years, on Paradis of all the places? Or was it some other Onyakopon who also happened to be an ace pilot?

"Hange-san?" a worried crease lay between Moblit's eyebrows. "Are the two of you—"

"Don't know," she shrugged, promptly finishing the last of her pie. "Shall we go and find that out?"

Moblit nodded resolutely. Hange felt something like nostalgia stirring up inside her.

___

For a man who was supposedly under a close watch and a possible suspect, Onyakopon had the nicest of accommodations. Much better than Hange's single room.

The house was small, but cozy, surrounded by pretty garden and vast green fields. If one were to ignore the lonely guard who was munching on an apple in the shadow of the tree, the front yard possessed absolutely no flaws.

Hange immediately shared her observation with Moblit, telling it to him in a faint whisper.

"Let's hope Onyakopon isn't a traitor and we won't end up dragging him from this heavenly place," he answered her.

If their Onyakopon was the same Onyakopon Hange knew, they wouldn't need to take the drastic measures. He was a smart, honest and good man. And, judging by Moblit's set expression, he knew that too.

As they approached the house, a man came in their sights. Dark-skinned, tall and handsome, he was reading a book on the porch, a look of complete concentration on his face.

All doubt left her mind. It was the same Onyakopon. The bright, curious young man who wanted to learn from her and who taught her something in return.

At the sound of their footsteps, Onyankopon looked up. And recognized her too, from just one glance. As their eyes met, his grew in size, almost comically. So he didn't know she was there as well. Strange, Hange would have thought he overheard the commotion she had caused on their trip back to Paradis.

But, perhaps, Onyakopon was too focused on piloting the airship and keeping all of them alive.

"Hange?" his voice was no louder than the wind's song. Hange nodded swiftly, having troubles finding her own voice. She wasn't sure it would obey her. "Oh I'll be damned!" Onyakopon jumped to his feet and all but ran to her. He squeezed her elbows, peering into her face in disbelief. "I'll be damned, Hange! I've heard the talks about some Marleyan soldier, but I could never guess that it was you! No one told me that you were captured."

Well, captured might be a strong word to describe what happened to her. Levi didn't capture her, he simply caught her - unaware and unprepared. Hange saw the face that was haunting her dreams and didn't even think of fighting against him.

She thought that Levi came to kill her then. She was almost ready for him to do it, to finish it once and for all. Being killed by the humanity's strongest - was there a greater honor? Being killed by the man you loved so dearly - was there a bigger joy?

Gently, Hange pried Onyakopon's hands off her. "It's a very long story."

"I have—"

"You don't," Moblit took a step forward, partially hiding Hange behind his back. "We need to talk, Onyakopon. I'm sure you've already guessed why."

"Yeah. Your friend here," Onyankopon threw an accusing glare at his guardian who was enjoying the afternoon shade, not disturbed by their conversation. "Already warned me. Alright," he let out a defeated sigh, "Do you guys want tea or coffee? Maybe, some snacks?"

Moblit gave him a tight-lipped smile. "We've already eaten, thank you."

"I— I'll bring some tea anyway."

He disappeared inside the house without another word. Hange and Moblit watched him go, then, when he vanished from their sight, they shared a look.

"He doesn't seem nervous," Hange remarked.

Moblit seemed to be of the same opinion. "He looks rather disappointed. I really hope he is innocent. But..." he shook his head and mumbled, more to himself than Hange, "I was always bad at figuring out liars."

Ouch. If after everything she had been through, Hange still possessed a heart, Moblit's words would have dealt a fatal blow.

Alas... She felt but a small pang. It didn't make her wheeze with pain, only forced to cast her eyes down.

___

Onyakopon returned after a few minutes, carrying a tray with three cups on it. Jerking his head into its direction, he led them to a table on the backyard.

Once they all took their places, heavy silence hanged over them. Onyakopon was the one to break it.

"So, no offence," he tilted his head to the side, his gaze slowly switching between Hange and Moblit. "If this is the official business, then… why Hange is here?"

"It's a long story," Hange said at the same time as Moblit claimed,

"Hange and I have been working together before."

"Wait..." a frown appeared on Onyakopon's face. It was almost immediately taken over by the look of shock. "Are you telling me that the famed Marleyan spy I've been hearing so much about, the one who spent five years on Paradis and almost became the Commander of Survey Corps, is Hange Zoe, one of the brightest minds of Marley?"

"Something like that, yeah," Hange took a cup of tea in her hands, hiding her embarrassment behind it.

"Wow... that's certainly... a lot to take in. I heard so many things about you."

"Nice ones, I hope?"

The corners of Onyakopon's lips slid down. "Not really."

"Ah... Understandable, I guess."

"But if you're the famous betrayer, why are you here? Are you—"

"We've been working together for a long time," Moblit repeated. "I trust Hange's judgement."

"I have an exceptional talent of picking out bullshit. And," Hange grinned, the curl of her lips just this side of being feral. "I'm a master of reaping fingernails out."

Onyakopon promptly chocked on the tea he was drinking. Sending her the most disappointing of his looks, Moblit jumped out from his seat to help the other man to cough it all out. His panicked face did awake a bit of shame in Hange.

"It was a joke," she hurried to assure.

"A very bad one," Moblit grumbled, softly patting Onyakopon on the back.

"I see nothing has changed about you, Hange," after returning his breathing under control, Onyakopon raised his eyes, giving her a joyful smile.

Hange wasn't sure if his words held any truth, personally, she hadn't felt like her happy, curious and driven self from years ago, but, nevertheless, she answered his smile with the one of her own.

"Now, let's talk about you," Moblit returned to his place, sitting down on the opposite side from Onyakopon. His back was straight, his expression relaxed but solemn. He grew, Hange noted absentmindedly. He was no longer that timid, shy man she had met all these years ago. "Do you know what happened with Yelena?"

"I understand that she is in the same boat as I am right now."

"Not quite," Moblit retorted. "We've recently found out that she has been talking with Eren behind our backs."

Onyakopon put the cup down, his hands a little more unsteady than Hange remembered them to be. "I... didn't know about any of this. Do you know what they were discussing?"

"Commander Pixis and the others are attempting to make sense of it as we speak."

"And in the meantime you decided to interrogate me." Onyakopon's demeanor changed, his eyes flashing. "Have I not done enough, Moblit? For you and for the people of Eldia? Haven't we helped you enough? And yet, you still don't trust me. You come here with—" his gaze shifted to Hange, but whatever Onyakopon wanted to say didn't leave his mouth, Moblit's hardened expression stopping him.

"You know how hard it is to earn trust," Moblit spoke calmly. "Especially now. Personally, I don't think that you're involved in Yelena's dealings. But I have to make sure of it. Wouldn't you do the same, if you were in my position?"

"Besides," Hange chimed in, "Even Eren is imprisoned. Do you really blame them for not trusting foreigners?"

Onyakopon took his time before answering. His jaw clenched, as he fixed his gaze on the wooden surface of the table.

"Maybe, you're right," he said at last. At his admission, Moblit relaxed. But Hange knew that Onyakopon wasn't finished yet. "But I risked my life to help get Eren back. Doesn't that count for something?"

"Yelena took part in that mission as well." Moblit reminded.

"I'm not Yelena." Onyankopon harshly retorted.

Moblit scowled. Onyakopon was glaring back at him, hands crossed on his chest. Hange decided it was time to intervene once more.

"Are we thinking of the same Yelena?" she interrupted their staring contest, easing the air around both men. "Tall, blonde and absolutely crazy?"

Not taking his eyes of Onyakopon, Moblit nodded. "She also has a strange obsession with Yeager brothers."

"Ah," yeah, Hange knew her. How could she not? Yelena was... "A lovely girl. Even I get chills from her. I doubt that Pixis would be able to get something out of her."

"That what worries me," Moblit confessed, rubbing his temples. The gesture was familiar to Hange - Moblit always suffered from headaches when under stress. "The Queen is coming back soon. If we don't secure the capital..."

"Historia is coming back?" Hange wasn't aware of it. When she asked Sasha about a little girl that once was called Christa and then grew up to become a Queen, Sasha said that she was also getting ready to become a mother. Was bringing her to the capital a good call then? With everything in such state of disarray?

"It was her decision, not ours," Moblit explained. "When the Queen learned what is going in, she deemed it necessary to intervene."

"Hopefully, the Queen is loved more than Eren Yeager."

Yeah, that would be the best case scenario. For everyone - even Marleyans - involved.

"In these uncertain times..." Moblit hanged his head with a deep, weary sigh. "Hope is all we have. Thank you for your time, Onyakopon. We'll be heading back now."

Having said that, he stood up. Hange meant to follow his suit, but at the last moment, Onyakopon stopped her, catching her sleeve between his fingers.

"About what happened in Liberio," he stiffly began. "Marley destroyed my hometown," Hange solemnly nodded. She was forced to take part in that particular operation. She hated every second of it. "I can't and I won't forgive them for that. But..." his voice softened, his thumb rubbed comforting circles around her pulse point. "Liberio was your home as well. So I know what you're going through."

Taken by surprise, Hange blinked a couple of times, gawking at Onyakopon. She expected anger from him. In the worst case - pity. But he offered her only his understanding. She was grateful for that.

“Goodbye, Onyankopon,” she smiled sweetly.

“Hopefully, that wouldn’t be our last meeting.”

Hange could very well agree on that.

___

When they were back in Sina, the sun was already setting, painting the streets and buildings into shades of orange, red and pink. While walking through the town, Hange was once again reminded of how beautiful it truly was. The abundance of trees and flower bushes, the shiny cobblestone and petite houses added to its charm, making Sina look almost magical.

“Pretty as a picture,” Hange had once called it, during a walk through the town with Levi by her side. Her fascination, that careless mishap almost got her lie uncovered.

“You look like you’re seeing it for the first time, four-eyes,” Levi had thrown that line carelessly, but his had narrowed ever so slightly and his frown had deepened. “Didn’t you say that you have grown up in the city?”

In that moment, Hange had almost started panicking. She could almost see it too – Levi finding out the truth, Levi dragging her to Erwin, Erwin getting everything he could out of her, him, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, Nifa, Keiji, Abel, Levi and countless of others feeling disappointed and betrayed. The story would have ended with her standing on the gallows.

Perhaps, this end would have been more merciful. But that day, her joyful, only slightly forced laughter and a meaningless ‘Don’t you know me, Levi? I always have my head up in the clouds?’ had saved her from the early demise. And doomed her to many years of torture, heartache and self-hatred.

“Hey,” a gentle hand on her elbow broke her out of the internal misery. Hange looked up, meeting Moblit’s hazel eyes. “It will take some time until we reach the headquarters. Can we talk in the meanwhile?”

“Sure,” she shrugged. “What do you wish to talk about?”

“I actually want to ask a question. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but…” Moblit trailed off for a moment, pressing his lips in a line. Hange smiled faintly, she knew that expression too – he always wore it when he was contemplating his next move. As soon as his mind was set, it vanished, the usual kind face returning. “I would like to know why… you came here in the first place.”

That was it? Hange almost exhaled with relief. She thought he was going to ask something truly awful.

“Didn’t I tell you already? Just like Hoover, Leonhart, Braun and Galliard, I was sent to retrieve the Founding Titan.”

“But you didn’t do it. You had countless opportunities to take Eren from us, and you never acted on any of them. So why did you really come here?”

That was… a question more complicated than Hange was ready for. She didn’t know what to tell Moblit, how much she was willing to share. She had never talked about this, not to a single soul. Her comrades and friends from Marley would never understand her anyway. But Moblit wasn’t Marleyan, he didn’t possess the same mentality. Perhaps, he wouldn’t judge her. Hange was counting on that.

Without another second spent on doubt, she began her tale,

“My father was a hero – a soldier, brilliant tactician, an even better politician. He was resolute, fearsome and absolutely merciless to his enemies. No surprise that many considered him to be an ideal Marleyan citizen. And I was his only child. Naturally, everyone expected me to be as brilliant as him. I began my training at the age of five, and by the age of twelve I was already a perfect soldier. However, that’s not who I wanted to be. I wanted to explore the world, to travel to distant lands, but as the child of my father, I had my whole life controlled by him, and then, when he passed away, by the expectations everyone had for me.”

Taking a pause, Hange chanced a look at Moblit, expecting him to be disgusted or annoyed by her whining. She had everything given to her on a plate, a bright future guarantied, and she still yearned for something more. It was pathetic, wasn’t it? She was pathetic. However, Moblit… didn’t seem to share that opinion. At least, his face didn’t show the signs of it. Instead of the outrage Hange had expected to see, she was met with sympathy.

It made the pain in her chest grew tenfold.

Nevertheless, she forced herself to continue.

“I could never decide for myself, my whole life was controlled by my father’s legacy. I wanted to break free of it, by whatever means necessary. So when I heard about the mission to retrieve the Founding Titan, I latched onto that chance, convincing the brass to send me there with the kids. But I’ve arrived earlier than them, and we got separated. And so… I decided to use that time to do what I always wanted. To study and explore.”

It was the most brilliant of her adventures. She loathed being a soldier and having to kill countless enemies of Marley. But there was no war at Paradis. The only enemies were Titans, and as much as Hange felt for their struggle, she managed to convince herself that she was killing them for their own good. That she was freeing them from their never-ending curse.

“No one knew me here, and I could be whoever I wanted to. And I liked being Squad Leader Hange, because Squad Leader Hange was allowed to be as weird and curious as I wanted. People here accepted me. For the first time in my life, I felt like I found the place where I belonged.”

Of course, that wasn’t true, a mere fantasy, a delusion on her part. She was a Marleyan, a child of the man who condemned thousands of Eldians. She had no place in their world. And yet, Hange was happy. It was the bitter truth she was afraid to admit for so long - she loved the persona of Squad Leader Hange. So much more than the persona of the Professor and war engineer, Hange Zoe.

But nothing could last forever. And when the time has come to return to Marley, Hange was devastated. She lost herself in playing her own game.

“That’s it, I guess,” she said, rolling her shoulders. Looking up, she saw they were almost by the stables where they left their horses in the morning. So deep inside her own head, she failed to notice how much time had passed. “I ran away because I was sick of my life back home. And I spent five years pretending to be someone else.”

“Were you really?” Moblit watched her, his gaze inquisitive. “Were you really pretending to be someone else, Hange-san? Or did you finally allow yourself to release your true self?”

That was… a scary statement. And much more loaded than Hange could deal with in that moment.

“I could be wrong, though,” Moblit shot her an innocent smile. Hange cursed under her breath, a true devil, that’s what he was. Getting her to admit to so much of her insecurities, Moblit surely had a talent for it. And to think he asked her to help him with interrogation. He seemed to be pretty adept at it himself.

“Stay here, I’ll bring our horses,” he started walking in the direction of the stables, but at the last moment turned away, and, meeting Hange’s eyes, added, “I’m glad that you took that mission, Hange-san. And I’m glad that I got to meet the real you. All of us are.”

Hange snorted, watching Moblit go. Perhaps, her father was right about something. Devils, all of them were. How else to explain the ease with which they wormed their way into her heart?

Her shoulders dropped as soon as Moblit had disappeared from her view, and she turned to stare at the setting sun. Certainly, it was one hell of a draining conversation.

But as her thoughts were still scattered in disarray, her heart felt so much lighter. She never shared this part of her with anyone, was afraid to admit it even to herself. But now she was glad she had finally done it. Perhaps, she should have done it a long time ago. Her life could have been easier then, the amount of regrets considerably lesser.

She swept her gaze around the plaza Moblit left her at. With the day coming to an end, not a lot of people were there. As far as Hange could see, the only ones still present were a happy mother with a two children, who were feeding the pigeons on the bench at the far side of the plaza, an elderly couple, and—

And a girl that sat at the edge of the fountain. The short stature, slumped shoulders, that luscious long black hair were familiar to the point of setting Hange's heart ablaze.

She couldn't see the face, was afraid to, but even so, Hange denied what her eyes saw. Surely, it was her imagination, her mind conjuring things that weren't there. This girl, she was—

A shadow, fathom. It couldn't be— it couldn't be her. Even the possibility of it was raising the hairs at the back of Hange's neck.

It wasn't Pieck, just a random girl. Hange was wrong, simply seeing things. Those familiar traits belonged to someone else. Pieck wasn't here, in Paradis, Pieck couldn't be—

"Hange?" she jumped, and whirled around so swiftly her head went dizzy. Before her stood Moblit, his eyebrows knitted together worriedly. "Everything alright?"

She exhaled with relief. "Peachy," she answered with a smile she didn't feel. Her eyes shifted from one side of plaza to the other, searching for the figure she had seen. But like all shadows do, she simply vanished.

"I brought our horses," Moblit gestured for her to follow him. Hange did, not looking back even once.

Even so, she felt someone's gaze burning into her back all the way to the headquarters.

___

"Sorry," Moblit stood at the threshold of her room, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I need to report to Zacklay and Pixis."

His expression was nearly apologetic. Hange patted his shoulder, touched by his not so subtle concern. "Stop worrying so much, Mob. Nothing would happen if you leave me for one evening."

Moblit kept frowning, looking as unconvinced as ever. "I'll tell Sasha and Connie to bring you dinner,” he nodded to himself. “And if you need anything, just tell the guard to call for me."

"Alright, alright. Now go!" Hange gave him a forceful push. "And make me proud!"

She didn't get an answer out of him, but she did see a faint blush appear on his cheeks. That was enough for Hange to chuckle victoriously.

Once Moblit had disappeared around the corner, Hange shoved the door closed and leaned against it. It was an exhausting, eventful day. She wanted nothing more than to rest. She headed towards the bed to fulfill that exact goal.

But no sooner than she had seated down, she heard the knock on the door. Albeit quietly, it was repeated three more times.

Sighing, Hange stood up again and walked back to the door. She swung it open, expecting to see Sasha and Connie. She was hoping to get a warm meal inside while gossiping with the two teenagers. A second later, the door stood open. And Hange's throat was closed up.

On the other side of the threshold— there was no Sasha, no Connie. Only Pieck.

And so the shadow finally took form.

Pieck was dressed similarly to her, in the dark green uniform. Her hair was gathered in a low ponytail, a smile was playing on her lips. The subtle differences in her attire only added to the sense of disbelief.

At the sight of her lovely face, all air left Hange's lungs. She desperately tried to take a breath, opening and closing her mouth rapidly. She wasn’t sure for how long she would have continued gaping like a fish fresh out of the water hadn't Pieck taken the matters in her own hands.

"It's been a while, Hange," as always, she spoke in a quiet, sugary sweet voice. Usually it calmed Hange down. Now it was sending shivers down her spine. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Pieck," Hange meant to sound leveled, controlled. But even a single word came out shaky and unsure. "Pieck," she tried again, this time with more success. "What are you doing here?"

Pushing past Hange, Pieck walked inside the room, heavily sliding down on a chair. "Serving my country. Something you have forgotten about."

Pieck stared straight at her, hands folded in her lap, a picture of friendliness and innocence. But the smile Hange always found so endearing, now seemed almost chilling.

"Tell me, Hange, is this the part of your plan? Have you decided to use your old history with these people to destroy them from the inside? Or," Pieck paused, tilting her head to one side. She didn't look angry, or disappointed. If anything, she seemed simply curious. But the atmosphere in the room was tense, air electrified with trepidation. Hange knew Pieck all too well, she knew how dangerous the shifter girl could be. "Have you already forgotten what they did in Liberio, in our city? How they destroyed it? How killed thousands of men, women and children? These monsters almost killed Reiner, Porco," her voice wavered at the names of her dear comrades. But even then, she didn’t drop the unassuming façade. "And do you know what happened to Udo and Zophia? Have you seen what become of them?"

Stunned, Hange could only stare at Pieck. The words left her, her mind unable to come up with anything she could have used to explain herself.

Indifferent to Hange’s internal struggle, Pieck continued.

"Do you even care, Hange? About Marley, about us?"

"Of course, I do." How Pieck could even doubt that? Udo and Zophia, those bright, adorable children Hange couldn't quite imagine them being gone. "Pieck, you misunderstand, I've been captured, I'm not—"

"Don't make me laugh." Pieck interrupted curtly. "You have your own room, you walk freely through the town, you wear their uniform. Is this how they treat all of their prisoners? Awfully kind of them then, considering the monstrosities these devils committed."

"Pieck, listen—"

Pieck didn't want to.

"You always were a strange one, Hange," gracefully, the girl stood up, taking a step closer. With her hands behind her back, she started pacing, circling around Hange. "I could never understand what was going on inside your head. I still can't. But, naively, I thought that I knew you. That after years of fighting side by side, we grew close enough. And after the disaster at Liberio," she picked up a sheet of paper from Hange's desk, gave it a quick once over before disregarding it in favor of focusing her eyes on Hange once more. "I kept looking for you. I was so afraid to find your body under a fallen building or see you with a hole in the head. But you were nowhere to be found. Everyone was worried sick, the brass was livid - the devils from Paradis killed the Warhammer, took our Beast and now our brightest mind was missing as well. And then I remembered what I have seen during the fight. A short man approaching you, the same one who nearly killed Zeke, that Ackerman. I thought he had captured you, I thought you needed saving. Seems like I was wrong about that, huh?”

Even now, Pieck was keeping her calm. Despite the harsh accusations, her voice remained gentle, almost soothing. The smile was still in place, and her head was tilted up, peering into Hange’s eyes.

Hange did everything she could to escape that unsettling gaze.

“I also came to because I needed you,” Pieck continued. “I thought you would help me with my mission.”

Would she? Should she? Hange didn’t know. She knew what Professor Hange Zoe would have done. She knew what Squad Leader Hange would have done.

But what would she do?

“I guess it doesn’t matter. Whether you help us or not, the outcome will be the same. Paradis will fall, Hange. Consider it my only warning. If you wish to witness its demise alongside these devils, I won't stop you. But," without looking at Hange, Pieck laid a hand on her shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "If your decision ever changes, I'll be happy to fight by your side."

After that, Pieck left the room, closing the door softly on her way out. Hange, however, didn’t move, remaining frozen in one place, too stunned to follow after Pieck and demand a more thorough explanation.

However... what was there to explain? Paradis will fall. Plain and simple.

Right now, Hange couldn't quite believe it, although she was supposed to expect it. What could possibly happen to that little island after Eren's desperate rampage? But even before that, Paradis was already doomed. The events that transpired at Shiganshina proved to the outside world just how dangerous the Eldians could be. And Shiganshina was simply a plant that had grown out of the seed of Grisha Yeager's crimes.

There was no hope for Paradis. There never was.

Paradis will fall.

What could she do to save it? Could she do something, anything at all? Could she help them, expose her nation's plans? Could she betray her motherland like that? If she shared the truth with people of Paradis, would they even believe her? Would her people forgive her?

Hange didn't know. Her mind was in frenzy, her thoughts flying from one horrible outcome to the other. It was in that catatonic state that Sasha and Connie found her.

"Hange-san? Is everything alright?"

Hange looked up, meeting their bewildered gazes. In that moment she realized - she didn't want these kids to die. She didn't want for them to suffer any more than they've already done. And the others - Moblit, Levi - Hange couldn't bear the thought of them in harm. But—

She didn't want for her fellow countrymen to die as well.

Fuck. Why was everything so hard these days, why it was so damn complicated? When would her heart stop tearing into two pieces? Why was everything out of her control?

It was always an issue of hers, the lack of control. This time was no different. Caught between crossfires, Hange didn't know which side to choose. Perhaps then... she shouldn't choose at all.

Perhaps, she should take the back seat. Let everything transpire the way it was supposed to be. Let them fight, let someone win.

And so, with a heavy heart and troubled consciousness, Hange came to a decision. She would not alert Paradis about the threat hanging over them. She would not help Marley in their fight.

But there was another side to all of this. Another warning, another trouble that couldn’t be ignored.

There was a danger of Marley invasion, but equally disturbing was the events transpiring inside the Walls. Something was brewing, a storm ready to swipe everyone in its path. And Hange had a nasty feeling that at the center of it, two figures stood – Yeager brothers.

Nothing could be done about Eren, Hange had doubts that even his closest friends had a single clue of what was going inside the boy’s head, what dangerous ideas were forming there. But Zeke, Hange knew how to deal with Zeke. She also knew someone who could deal with him in the most efficient way.

She didn’t know what Zeke was planning. But she was confident that Levi would be able to find out.

She just needed to give him a little push.

“Sasha,” Hange smiled at the girl, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “If you would be so kind, tell Moblit to visit me before he retires for the night.”

Moblit had mentioned that he was corresponding with Levi. The time has come to use this detail to her and the world’s advantage.

The world as they knew was changing, perhaps, it was already at the brink of collapse, horrible destruction. What did Moblit say? In these uncertain times, hope is all we have?

In that case, her only hope was Levi.

[silhouetteofacedar]

Impersonal, Ch. 7

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, Rated E

The game had ended and he wasn’t surprised.

He expected this. He prepared himself all day Saturday by running six miles, jacking off twice, and mopping his entire apartment. He didn’t even own a mop; he actually went out and bought one. By the time Sunday morning rolled around he was ready for the inevitable collapse of their precarious sexual arrangement and greeted Scully with aplomb.

And then she paid for breakfast.

That was unexpected. When the FBI wasn’t footing the bill, they usually split the tab, or threw a “you can get the next one” down on the table alongside crumpled bills.

He had been joking about it being a date, but then she paid. And it meant something. Her big blue eyes pinned him to the booth, had him trapped and squirming like an insect on a card as she laid a hand over the check. “I’ve got it,” she said, and his senses were suddenly ignited. He could feel thick sunshine pouring over them, lighting up Scully’s hair like a smudge of cinnamon. Her lips looked so sweet and soft, and the very idea that he might never feel them again stole his breath. He felt dry and empty, a desiccated housefly body lying on a windowsill.

He thanked her for breakfast, and his throat was lined with dust.

Their parting was weird. Hinting that he was still available to her was an insane risk, and she turned it into a joke about Frohike. Unless she actually thought he was the one joking about Frohike, which he has to admit wouldn’t be out of character for him.

He’s tired of joking, tired of hiding, tired of dancing around his intentions. Tired of wanting and not asking, tired of being in his own damn way.

Scully has given him a graceful exit, a neatly drawn map back to their pre-sex starting point. And not for the first time, Mulder wads up the map and tosses it aside. Scully made her move; it was time for him do the same.

What that move would be, he has no idea.

It takes him eleven days. No wonder Scully took matters into her own hands the first time around. Inspiration strikes him during his drive from Alexandria to D.C. the next Thursday morning, when he crosses the Potomac and gets a glimpse of faraway blossoms.

He waits until 4:47 that afternoon to say anything.

“Hey Scully, you doing anything tonight?” he asks, rifling through a stack of papers as though he’s attending to FBI business and not trying to work up courage like a schoolboy.

Her glossy red head is bent over a file, pen at her lip. “Besides folding an obscenely large pile of laundry, my schedule seems fairly empty,” she replies. She looks up at him suspiciously. “Why, Mulder?”

“No reason, really. There’s just something I wanted to show you, get your opinion on.”

“Is it related to a case?”

He opens a desk drawer, pretending to look for something. “Well it could be a totally natural phenomenon, but who can say for certain without proper investigation?”

Scully sighs. “Fine, I’ll bite. And speaking of bites, I’m starving. If we’re going to work off the clock, can we at least eat?”

“Wanna stop for Chinese? We can take it with us. We’re not going far, the food should still be hot when we get to our secondary location.”

They take Mulder’s car, picking up several cartons of food from a restaurant in Chinatown a few blocks up from the Hoover building before making their way towards the National Mall. Mulder parks in the lot near the Washington Monument.

“You weren’t kidding when you said we weren’t going far,” Scully says, gathering up the bag of takeout. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“That,” he replies, pointing ahead.

Hundreds of cherry trees line the Tidal Basin, their leaves almost entirely obscured by tufts of blossoms. Scully steps onto the path, open-mouthed.

“Oh my god,” she murmurs.

Mulder shoves his hands in his pockets. “Pretty fantastic, huh?”

“Mulder,” she says in awe, looking sideways at him, “What are we doing here?”

He shrugs. “I just wanted to see them.”

“At night?”

“Daylight’s for tourists, Scully.”

———

They’re sitting on the damp grass, endeavoring to split the last egg roll using only their dueling pairs of chopsticks.

“This is impossible, Scully. I’m going to use my hands.”

“Then I definitely don’t want the other half,” she says.

“Are you implying something about my hygiene?”

“I’ve seen some of the places your hands have been, Mulder.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Not what I meant,” she says softly. “But the point still stands.”

Mulder lays back on the lawn, his long coat fanning wide. Scully pulls an edge of it towards her, scoots closer so she can rest her pantyhose-clad calves on it instead of the grass.

“I’ve always preferred the blossoms at night,” he says. “There’s something ghostly about them, all pink and white against the dark sky. Not an ominous kind of ghostly, however; if good spirits exist, I think they’d look like these trees. You know most early European religions feature some sort of reverence for trees or forests, whether as spiritual gathering places or deities themselves-“

“Mulder.”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to eat that egg roll, or can I have it?”

He passes her the carton. “And-”

“Why did you bring me here, Mulder?”

He glances at her and is surprised to see a tenderness in her eyes. His gaze returns to the branches above.

“I just figured I owe you a nice trip to a forest, and this one won’t require any paperwork.”

Scully smiles. “That’s a very considerate choice, Mulder, especially since I’m always the one doing said paperwork.”

“You’re more succinct and readable than I am, apparently. And Skinner clearly likes you better.”

“Didn’t you punch him in the face once?”

“That’s beside the point. I think he has a bit of a crush on you, Scully.”

She rolls her eyes. “What?” Mulder asks.

“I just… it’s nothing, It’s been a long day. And it’s cold out here.”

Mulder sits up and withdraws his arms from the sleeves of his overcoat.

“No- Mulder, don’t, I’m fine.”

“Move your legs,” he instructs, pulling the edge of the coat out from under her. He stands and drapes it around her shoulders before plopping back down on the grass next to her.

“Thanks,” she says. “Still, it’s getting late.”

He glances at his watch. “It’s seven-thirty on a Thursday. You got somewhere to be?” His arm bumps her shoulder companionably. “Come on, just a little longer. Maybe we’ll see something unidentified in the sky.”

He grins at her and the corner of her mouth twitches in reply. “Well, I guess I don’t have a choice,” she sighs. “You drove us here.”

He feels a slight increase of pressure against his arm and realizes that Scully is ever so slightly leaning into him. A gentle warmth glows in his belly, and he glances sidelong at her.

I’m a lucky son of a bitch, he thinks.

“How so?” Scully asks.

Oh. He said it out loud. He clears his throat, tries to steer his thoughts back into safer waters.

“Well, for one thing, I’m not dead,” he says. “Not for lack of trying.”

Scully nods solemnly.

“I’ve seen incredible things, things people spend their whole lives looking for, hoping for, believing in. I’ve tasted proof, held the truth in my hands. And in spite of everything, I’m still here. We’re still here. That’s pretty goddamn lucky.”

“I don’t feel very lucky,” Scully says softly. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve fucked up every good thing I’ve ever had a chance at. My father certainly thought so, at least for a long time.”

They sit silently for a moment. “Without you, I’d be long dead,” Mulder admits.

“I know,” Scully replies. “I’m always awed by your resilience, actually. I can’t take all the credit for your continued survival.”

“Yeah, you can,” he says, getting to his feet and dusting stray blades of grass off his slacks. He holds out a hand and helps her to her feet. Her fingers are cool against his palm, and he wonders if she’d notice if he didn’t let go. Probably.

He wants to pull her in by the lapels of his coat, gather her to his chest, hold her for no reason other than he can. Kiss her brow, smell her hair, feel her small hands sliding under his suit jacket. He wants her just as she is, for exactly who she is.

But he’s a chickenshit, so instead he just walks beside her along the Tidal Basin, under the cherry blossoms, and doesn’t hold her hand.

They spend the five minute drive back to the Bureau in comfortable silence. Scully leans her head against the car window, and Mulder briefly wonders if she’ll fall asleep. He loves when she nods off while he’s driving; it makes him feel safe. She makes him feel safe.

He parks a few spots away from her car in the Bureau parking garage, turns off the engine. Scully gathers up her briefcase, leaving Mulder’s coat draped open on the passenger seat.

“Why are you getting out?” she asks, seeing Mulder unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I need a file from the office,” he lies. He exits the car and goes around to her side. “I’ll walk you to your door, it’s on my way.”

It’s twenty feet from her car to his. “Thank you, Mulder,” Scully says sardonically, fishing her keys out of her coat pocket. “If I weren’t armed, that would have been very thoughtful of you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replies. He takes a step forward.

“What are you doing?” Scully asks, one hand on her car door, keys in the other.

“Nothing,” he replies quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” God, she’s so small, this could so easily go wrong-

He pitches forward, bending down, and presses his lips to the fullness of her cheek. His nose brushes the soft skin under her eye and he inhales sharply, drawing back.

They blink at each other. “Bye,” Mulder offers.

Scully nods. “Yes. Goodnight.” She glances to the elevators. “Was there actually a file you needed?”

He just looks at her, and she presses her lips together in understanding. “Right. Well, I’m leaving, so… see you tomorrow then.”

Right. Despite recent events, the earth was still spinning.

Later, when he hangs his overcoat, he notices the faintest scent of her shampoo on the collar.

[holidaywishes]

then we‘ll start our life together

  Requested: 👍

  Summary/Request: Freddie starts to spend time with Jackson and keeps pressing to tell him the truth; the secret finally comes out to Fred’s parents; (Y/N) has to make a choice.

  Warning: fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst but I wouldn’t count on it

  Author’s Note: Can I first say how much I love this GIF? He looks so fucking good, I can’t stand it. He’s smiling, he’s got scruff, the maroon/burgundy hat looks A-MA-ZING on him 🤤 Anyway, moving on. This is the last part of the request that @kayleafs221​​ sent me a while back that started as just a two-parter. We worked on part three together and I think it turned out really well but they really wanted the reader and Freddie together -- they just didn’t know how to write it. Enter: me! As much as I love writing angst, and as well as I think I can write it, I’m a hopeless romantic at heart so a happy ending is always in sight when I’m writing. It’s sort of a long chapter because of everything that needed to be fit in for it to be a happy ending without just... cutting to the happy ending. I hope you enjoy it! Stay Golden, my loves! <3!

  P.S. I'm sorry this took SO long to get out. I started writing it a bunch of times and then things happened around the house that took and held my attention. BUT I'M HERE NOW! It's snowing today when it was +20 yesterday and I've got a bunch of goodies to keep me focused on sitting down and writing. It's like being back in University writing my god damn thesis again 😂😂 ENJOY! By the way, this is the dress I was trying to describe, hopefully it came through!

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

Freddie’s P.O.V

  When you found out Jackson was yours, you felt a lot of things. You were mad that you didn’t get to have those first six years, frustrated that (Y/N) didn’t reach out to you to at least tell you that he was yours, but you were also happy that you were able to see him grow up now. When she asked you if you wanted to finally meet Jackson, you nearly screamed over the phone; like a fangirl

  “Relax!” she laughed, “you can’t say anything. I just told him a friend of mine was in town and we were going to meet him for lunch. He doesn’t know anything okay? And you can’t let on about.. anything”

  “I know. I promise I won’t”

  “Oh another thing,” she added, “wear a hat”

  “A hat?” you scoffed

  “He’s a smart kid and if he sees that you’ve got red hair, he’ll figure it out”

  “Fine, I’ll wear a hat” you teased

  “Thank you.” You were sure that you’d be able to keep yourself together but you had downed two glasses of water before (Y/N) and Jackson even got to the restaurant. When the hostess brought them to the table, your eyes went wide when you saw the little strawberry blonde boy clutching the hand of his mother; a perfect mix of you and her

  “Hey,” (Y/N) greeted with a smile, “Jackson, this is Freddie. Freddie, this is Jackson, my son”

  “Hi Jackson” you smiled, standing up excitedly earning a glare from (Y/N) as the little boy hid behind her legs

  “Sweetheart, can you say hi to Freddie?” she asked

  “Hello” he whispered

  “It’s nice to meet you, little man”

  “Let’s sit down, huh?” (Y/N) smirked, directly Jackson and you back to the chairs, “who’s hungry?”

  “Me!” Jackson exclaimed, earning a laugh from you before you all scanned the menu. You could feel (Y/N) watching the two of you as Jackson started talking about his sports teams, going from Soccer to Baseball to Basketball in one breath, his excitement palpable

  “Have you ever wanted to try Hockey?” you asked

  “I don’t know how to skate” he mumbled

  “We live in California,” (Y/N) scoffed, “there’s not a lot of ice there”

  “There are always rinks” you added, catching her angry glare that you knew meant you were getting dangerously close to exposing the secret she’d tried so hard to keep. “I can always help you learn...”

  “No way! Really?!” he exclaimed, leading your eyes to catch (Y/N) biting her lip insecurely

  “Only if your mom is okay with it. And if it’s something you really want”

  “Mommy, please!” he begged, “it’s the only one I haven’t tried! I wanna try! He can help me, mama!”

  “How about we eat first and then we can figure all that stuff out later?” she laughed and Jackson nodded happily, sitting back in his seat. It wasn't long into the meal that Jackson continued to beg to learn how to skate with you and you could feel (Y/N) become more agitated with you

  "Hey, Jackson," you interrupted his excitement, "what's your favourite snack?"

  "Mmm..." he hummed as he contemplated his answer, "black licorice!" (Y/N) scoffed and shook her head before peeking up at you

  "I don't get it," she replied, "no one actually likes black licorice unless they're like a.. grandma or something"

  "I love black licorice!" you exclaimed

  "You do?!" Jackson asked and you nodded. "SEE MOM! I TOLD YOU I WASN'T THE ONLY ONE!"

  "I know you did, baby" she sighed before Jackson excused himself to go to the bathroom

  "He's so cute" you began to coo

  "You're the only other person I know who actually likes black licorice"

  "Should I not have said that?" you winced

  "I don't know... he could think it's just a miraculous coincidence"

  "Look," you smiled, "it's a Danish thing. We all eat black licorice like it's chocolate. Should we tell him that?"

  "I--" she started, stopping only when he came back, "Hey sweetie! everything go okay?"

  "Yeah, mom.." he sneered

  "One of these days I'm not gonna ask and you're gonna miss it" she joked

  "Yeah right," he scoffed. When you finished the meal, Jackson told you that they were heading downtown to go to the CN Tower before you left, "wanna come?"

  "I don't know... what does your mom think?" you smiled and turned your gaze to (Y/N)

  "Mom thinks it's fine"

  "AND THEN WE CAN GO SKATING!"

  "Jackson..." she sighed, shaking her head while the three of you walked through the streets and made your way downtown to the city’s major tourist attraction. The ride up to the top, to the observation deck, was silent as Jackson got as close to the window as he could to look out at the city, letting you and (Y/N) linger near each other with each passing second. "He likes you" she whispered

  "He's a great kid" you whispered back and she smiled

  "He really is"

  "MOM LOOK!" Jackson pointed out to the city and she walked to him, kneeling down behind him so he could show her what he was seeing. You so wanted to be part of it but you knew you had to wait for her to say that it was time; she looked back at you with a soft smile before dropping her head against her sons shoulder.

xx

  When you and Jackson got back to California, he had so many questions about Freddie

  “Why did we hang out with him all weekend?”

  “Did you date?”

  “Why is he so tall?”

  “Is he gonna teach me how to skate?”

  “When are we gonna see him again?”

  You had to take a deep breath to try to answer his questions, telling him that you two dated a long time ago, that you lost touch and that you might never see him again but that seeing him now was enough.

  “But is he gonna teach me how to skate?” he asked again and you chuckled

  “I can teach you how to skate...” you lied

  “He said he wanted to though!”

  “Jackson.. baby, we’re not close to him. Physically. We can find someone to teach yo—”

  “I WANT HIM TO TEACH ME!” he whined, forcing you to furrow your brow at him

  “Jackson!” you tried to sound stern but your surprise kept creeping in

  “I DON’T KNOW WHY HE CAN’T TEACH ME!!! I WANT HIM TO TEACH ME HOW TO SKATE!”

  “JACKSON CALEB (Y/L/N)!” you yelled, “DO NOT YELL AT ME!”

  “I WANT—”

  “ENOUGH!” you shouted, “you cannot whine and yell and throw a temper tantrum and expect to get what you want. If you really want to learn how to skate, we can find someone but do not try to force me to do exactly what you want” you watched the corners of his mouth shift into a frown before his eyes brimmed with tears. “Baby, I’m sorry. I love that you want him to teach you but he’s so busy and he’s so far away, we can’t do it as easily as you think...”

  “Can’t he come here?” he asked softly

  “Sure he can,” you added, lifting him up onto the couch so you could kneel in front of him, “but it won’t be every day. It would only be when he’s here for work and that means he might not have a lot of spare time...”

  “But if we take lessons here then he’ll be able to see my progress!”

  “Absolutely kiddo!”

  “AWESOME!” he exclaimed, jumping off the couch and running to his room. You were left a bit in shock at the conversation but you could feel the need for Jackson to have a father figure creeping closer and closer. When your phone rang, you slumped onto the couch and answered it

  “Hello” you sighed

  “(Y/N)!! Oh my god!” Amalie greeted happily from the other line

  “Amalie? Hi... what’s going on?”

  “I saw the pictures of your little boy! He looks so much like Freddie. How come you didn’t tell us?!”

  “Hold on... slow down, what are you talking about?”

  “Fred called mom and told her the good news. We’re so excited to have another Andersen!”

  “He told you? About Jackson?”

  “Jackson, oh I love that name!” she cooed

  “I’m sorry, what exactly did he say?” you asked, curious how much Freddie actually said

  “He just called mom gushing about how he spent the whole weekend with his son. When mom stopped screaming with excitement, he said that Jackson,” she giggled as she said his name, “is great at sports but he doesn’t know how to skate yet, which my dad was shocked about” she laughed. “Mom had him on speaker obviously, so we all heard as he was talking to her. He was so excited to tell us about him. But, (Y/N)... why did you keep him from us?”

  “What?”

  “Look, no one else seemed to catch on that he was your son and that you and Fred haven’t seen each other in 6 years? But I did and I don’t get it...”

  “Freddie got traded and he had to hop on a plane and forget everything in California. I didn’t find out I was pregnant for another two months after he left so it wasn’t like I intended to... I thought about reaching out to him so many times but his life was so public and I couldn’t imagine putting my son through all of that without a choice”

  “But he’s Freddie’s son too” she countered and you could only shake your head to yourself. You were tired of explaining this to everyone

  “I know but I needed to protect Jackson above everything. Look, Fred and I discussed all this and we’ve agreed to let him get to know Jackson slowly”

  “And he’s okay with that?” you scoffed

  “He’s a little hesitant, sure, but he agrees that this is what’s best”

  “I just don’t want my big brother to get... cheated out of more time with his son”

  “He won’t”

  “I don’t want him getting hurt”

  “Amalie, I appreciate all of this. Honest, I do, but my job is to protect my son and sometimes that means keeping secrets from people...”

  “I don’t know, that doesn’t seem right”

  “I,” you started, calming your tone as you were starting to get agitated, “I have to go, Amalie. Tell everyone I say hi and I’m sure I’ll be talking with you all soon”

  “Bye!” You were almost fuming at the thought that Freddie went behind your back and told his family about your son

  “Hello” Freddie greeted from the other line

  “WHAT THE HELL FREDDIE?!” you shouted

  “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” he replied, playing dumb

  “You told your family???? I thought we discussed this, Freddie!”

  “I told my — I was excited. It slipped, I’m sorry” you dropped your head to your free hand and shook your head

  "I don't even know what to say right now..."

  "I promise Jackson won't know anything until you're ready"

  "Glad to hear it," you scoffed, "look, just run some of these things by me first. I'm not a huge fan of surprises, I'd like to be prepared if I have to defend myself okay?"

  "I get it, I'm sorry. It won't happen again"

  "Thank you" you smiled to yourself before dropping the topic. His voice calmed you down enough for you to take a deep breath and he spent the next 20 minutes telling you how much fun he had with you and Jackson and how he missed you already; you laughed and told him how much Jackson was pestering you about learning to skate

  "I'm sorry" Freddie said

  "No no!" you smirked, "it's okay, he's so excited. It's adorable. He actually yelled at me when I told him you couldn't teach him"

  "Really?" he asked, a lightness in his tone that brought you back to how the two of you used to be

  "Yeah," you admitted, "he really likes you. I think it's actually gonna be really easy to tell him; honestly, I think he'll be happy about it"

  "I'm happy to hear that," he replied, "so when are we gonna tell him?"

  "Don't push your luck, Mr. Goaltender. It's still gonna take some time" you weren't sure how much time but you knew you weren't ready for the truth to come out yet, no matter how well they were getting along.

xx

Freddie's P.O.V

  After (Y/N) found out that you told your mom, who in turn alerted the entire family, that you had a son, you were sure she'd be too angry to let him spend any more time with you.

  "We finally found him a teacher," she said over the phone, informing you about Jackson's time on the ice, "he's a great guy. Really positive with Jackson, really encouraging. J seems like he's having a lot of fun -- he keeps saying he can't wait to go skating with you"

  "That's great!" you exclaimed, "when will you guys be in Toronto?"

  "We won't," she said simply

  "Oh... I don't understand?"

  "Fred, my job isn't like your job. I can't just fly off to Toronto with my son"

  "Even on the weekends?"

  "Yeah, even on the weekends" she scoffed

  "So, what then? How am I supposed to take him skating and see where he's at with everything? How am I supposed to get to know my son when I can't even see him?"

  "Come here," she blurted out, forcing you to keep silent and take a seat on your couch, "whenever your next game in California is, take some time and come see us. We can meet you somewhere, we'd make that work"

  "I don't think I'd have any free time..." you answered

  "Just tell us when you're in town and we'll make it work. Trust me, okay?" she said and you could hear her smile, "I have to go but I'll text you later"

  "Okay" you sighed as you hung up the phone. You thought about how exactly you could make this work, because you really wanted to make it work, but the schedule was packed; you couldn't see a time for you all to get together. You texted her when you were in L.A. and told her that you had some free time over the weekend if she was okay to meet you there and she was quick to agree. When the three of you finally met up, Jackson excitedly jumped onto the ice to show you his skills and you stood behind the glass with (Y/N) to watch him skate a little before either of you joined him. "Thank you for coming out here," you said and she nudged your shoulder before sitting down on the bench to put on her skates, "I'm serious. I know my schedule's always been a little crazy but I appreciate you at least giving me a chance"

  "You know I can't skate right?" she laughed and you realized that she was struggling to tighten her laces

  "Hold on, stop" you laughed, kneeling in front of her to help her

  "This is a disaster," she scoffed, "I probably should just let you guys skate without me"

  "No way that's happening," he smirked, "it's too late for that"

  "You sure no one is gonna find us here?"

  "I'm sure" you replied, looking up at her before clearing your throat and sitting back on the bench to put your skates on. Her arm grazed yours, eliciting a flush of heat from you

  "You have to tell him you're proud of him," she said, laying her head on your shoulder as she watched her son skate slowly across the ice and you looked at her. You kissed the top of her head and just sat there with her for a while

  "I will" you whispered finally, forcing her to take her head off your shoulder and her eyes met yours as she smiled

  "Good" she whispered, her eyes drifting down to your lips as if she was waiting for you to make a move

  "MOM! FREDDIE!" Jackson yelled, taking the two of you out of the moment you were having

  "And... saved by the kid" you joked, dropping your head, preparing yourself to get up but not before she laid a sweet kiss on your cheek.

xx

  “You know, my dad taught me and my brothers how to skate and how to play hockey,” Freddie explained to Jackson as he helped you up from where you fell, “it’s a family tradition”

  “It is?” Jackson’s little voice asked, leading you and Freddie to smile

  “It is!” he replied

  “So why are you teaching me? Where’s your family?” you dropped your head in defeat

  “Uh, well..” Freddie stammered, looking at you briefly before turning his attention back to the boy

  “Baby, why don’t you skate ahead. Fred’s just gonna keep me from falling but we’ll be right behind you” you said softly while you continued to grip onto Freddie’s arm so you didn’t fall

  “I think it’s time to tell him” he laughed

  “He’s gonna hate me” you admitted, revealing the reason you hadn’t wanted to tell him after all these years

  “He’s not gonna hate you. You’re his mom, he loves you” he scoffed, nudging you with his elbow and you had to clutch onto him so you didn’t fall

  “Freddie!” you exclaimed with a laugh, “ugh. I’m gonna die out here, I’m sure of it”

  “We don’t have to tell him here, we could go out for lunch or ice cream. Go to the malt shop at the beach, anything. I just think we should tell him”

  “What happens when we tell him? What if it never.. what if it just always sucks after that?”

  “I’ll be there with you. Every step of the way. I promise, I won’t leave again”

  “You can’t promise that. Your career pulls you everywhere...”

  “But I won’t ever leave you. You can come with me, I would love nothing more, actually” he stopped and turned to you, holding onto your arms. “Live with me, travel with me. Toronto isn’t by the Pacific Ocean and it’s not always sunny but it’s a great place to be”

  “I don’t know... we’d have to talk to his teachers and make sure we find a school, a good school, where he could start at the beginning. You know, not like in the middle of the year...”

  “We can make that happen” he tried

  “What about his friends?”

  “We’ll make sure they all keep in touch. (Y/N), I want this to work. I want to be part of his life and I’ve always wanted to be with you. You know that, right?” your eyes danced between his as you prepared to answer him before you were interrupted by Jackson calling you

  “We’re coming!” you called back and let Freddie pull you toward him, letting you go when Jackson fell onto his knees

  “Alright it’s okay buddy,” Freddie cooed as you slowly drifted toward them, “you hurt?”

  “No,” he said proudly, “but I fell...”

  “Yeah you did,” Freddie continued, “but that’s okay. Sometimes you fall but you got back up, that’s the important thing” you smiled as you heard the two boys talking, feeling a sudden rush of love you had long since forgotten. “Wanna take a break and get some food?”

  “YEAH!”

  “Mom?” Fred asked, outstretching his hand to you

  “I’ll do anything to get off this ice” you laughed. The three of you made your way to a retro-style Diner, complete with red vinyl booths, and waited to order some food; all the while, Jackson was glaring at Freddie, “Jackson!” you scolded, “it’s not polite to stare like that”

  “Why don’t you take your hat off? Is it like permently glued to your head?” he asked Freddie, tripping up on the word he’d heard you say on occasion, earning a scoff from you and a laugh from Freddie

  “No, it’s not glued to my head” Freddie replied

  “So you should take it off. Manners”

  “You’re right” he added with a smile

  “He’s right” you sighed, anticipating his reaction when he saw Freddie’s hair for the first time. As you expected, Jackson gasped when Freddie took off his hat, as if seeing another person with red hair was this miraculous thing — though you always thought there was more blonde than red to his shade.

  “Your hair is like mine” he smiled and all you could do was wait. How do I tell him? you thought to yourself, stealing glances from Freddie

  “You’ve got your moms hair”

  “She always said that my hair was hers and my dads put in a blender” he laughed

  “I did say that, didn’t I?” you chuckled

  “Mom, is Freddie my dad?” he asked, the words hanging in the air as you tried to catch your breath

  “Uhm,” you started, clearing your throat as you watched Jackson keep his head down and eyes on the table, “what makes you say that, sweetie?”

  “Is he?” he repeated

  "Well, buddy," Freddie started, looking at you before you nodded so he knew he could continue, "yeah. Yeah, I'm your dad..." You both waited for him to react but he just sat there in silence, still not raising his head to meet your eyes

  "Sweetheart?" you whispered, kneeling in front of him, "Jackson, can you look at me?"

  "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly

  "She was just trying to protect you, Jackson" Freddie added, causing Jackson to quickly look up at him

  "You didn't know about me?" he asked again and you were finally able to see the tears roll down his sweet little cheeks

  "I--"

  "Why did you keep me from my daddy?!" Jackson yelled

  "Sweetheart, please, calm down" you tried but it was no use

  "NO!" he stepped back and kicking his chair in frustration, "everyone else gets a dad why not me?!"

  "Jackson!" Freddie tried when he noticed you had practically crumpled in your chair

  "NO!" Jackson repeated as he ran out of the diner

  "I'm so sorry everyone..." Freddie apologized to the group before you made your way outside

  "Jackson..." you whispered when you found him sitting on a bench a few feet from the diner

  "Go away" he cried

  "Baby, I know you're mad," you started, sitting down beside him before he moved away from you, "I loved Freddie, your dad, very much and he loved me the same. We met and, immediately, we clicked -- I always wanted to be around him, I missed him when he was gone and I didn't want him to ever leave when he got back. When he left, I was broken. Nothing really made sense anymore and I couldn't forgive him for leaving me like that. But then you came along and you became the most important thing in my life; you really changed everything" you smiled as he nestled into your side. "You deserve to have a dad, you deserve to know your dad, you're so much like him it's crazy" you chuckled before resting your cheek on Jackson's head. "Freddie's life is complicated. It's very busy but it's also very public; you don't have as much freedom to just... be a kid like you do with just me"

  "Is that why you didn't tell him?"

  "Sort of..." you replied, "I didn't think I'd ever see him again and my heart was so hurt but you are the most important thing in the world to me. I shouldn't have kept him a secret from you, I'm sorry"

  "So what now?" he asked

  "Well... I wanted to talk to you about something," you stammered, "Freddie and I have been getting close again, I still really love him. That kind of love is hard to forget, you’ll realize that one day, but he really wants to spend more time with you but his life is in Toronto..."

  "Yeah?" he said

  "Would you want to move there?" you asked, noticing him perk his head up

  "All of us would be together?" he asked

  "Yes and maybe you'll even get to meet Fred's family. Really get to learn the Andersen family traditions, the right way"

  "YES!" he exclaimed before hugging you tightly. "But mom?" he asked

  "Hmm?"

  "Can we call him dad?" you laughed at his question before nodding in response. You headed back inside to where Freddie was and Jackson jumped into the booth next to him

  "Whoa, hey there! So, I guess everything is okay now?" he laughed

  "We're gonna move to Toronto to live with you!"

  "You are?" he asked, looking at you for confirmation

  "Not right away," you corrected, "we have some stuff to sort out first but yes, eventually we'll be there with you. As a family" Freddie smiled in return at the idea of the three of you being a family

  “Perfect” he said and you couldn’t help yourself; that happy little grin on his face made it near impossible not to want to kiss him, so you leaned over your son and pressed your lips to his before your son tried to pushed the two of you apart

  “EW MOM, DAD, DON’T BE SO GROSS!” he whined and you smiled against Freddie’s lips

  “Dad?” he whispered and you could see the pride cover his face

  “Dad” you whispered back

  “I like the sound of that” he smiled, sitting back in the booth and bringing Jackson into his lap and for the first time in a long time, you could picture your life with Freddie and Jackson.

xx

2 Years Later

  “MY BABY BOY!” Charlotte greeted Jackson outside of the large, stone castle that you were to be marrying Freddie in a few hours

  “GRAMMA C!” he exclaimed, running to her so she could pick him up

  “Hey, Charlotte” you smiled, hugging her when she put down your son

  “Hi, sweetheart,” she said in your ear, “how are you feeling? You ready?”

  “Yeah..” you smiled to yourself, “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life. Nothing has ever felt so right”

  “Why aren’t you upstairs?” she asked and you laughed

  “Jackson kept running around the castle and I didn’t want him to break anything so I told him that you were on your way and we should head out front to meet you,” you admitted, “so we came out here...”

  “It’s okay to be nervous,” she said, directing you back through the large wooden doors, “but he loves you and you love him and you’ve been waiting for this for a very long time. So have we” she laughed, guiding you back inside so you could get ready; draping your beautiful A-line Chiffon dress with a long train and a plunging neckline with a crystal encrusted v-neck back and buttons trailing your lower spine. You couldn’t help but spinning around to test the move-ability of the dress when Valdemar walked through the door

  “Oh sorry,” he stumbled nervously, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’ll ju--”

  “Valdemar, it’s alright,” you laughed, “come on in. I was just testing the dress”

  “You look beautiful” he cooed

  “Thank you” you replied

  “I was told to bring you this,” he said as he handed you an envelope, “it’s from Freddie” you chuckled when you finally looked at the envelope, seeing your soon-to-be husband’s handwriting

  “Thank you, Valdemar. Wait!” you said, stopping him before he left, “I have something for him to” you handed him your note and gave him a kiss on the cheek before he walked out of the room; leaving you in a separate part of the suite than your bridesmaids. As you read his note, all you could think was, I should’ve read this before I got my makeup done

  “Ready?” a voice asked you from across the room and you took a deep breath, turning to find Amalie standing by the door

  “I’m ready.” As you walked down the aisle, you noticed a smile glow brightly on his face and the same one was reciprocated on yours

  “We come now to the words Freddie and (Y/N) want to hear the most today,” the Officiant started, “the words that take them across the threshold from being engaged to being married. A marriage, as most of us understand it, is a voluntary and full commitment. It is made in the deepest sense to the exclusion of all others, and it is entered into with the desire and hope that it will last for life. Before you declare your vows to one another, I want to hear you confirm that it is indeed your intention to be married today. Frederik, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to (Y/N) in marriage? If so, answer ‘I do.’”

  “I do” Freddie smiled and the Officiant continued

  “(Y/N), do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Frederik in marriage? If so, answer ‘I do.’”

  “I do” you whispered back with a smile

  “Frederik and (Y/N), having heard that it is your intention to be married to each other, I now ask you to declare your marriage vows. Please face each other and hold hands,” the Officiant directed, “Frederik, please repeat after me… I, Frederik, take you, (Y/N) to be my wife”

  “I, Frederik, take you, (Y/N) to be my wife” he repeated

  “I will share my life with yours and build our dreams together” the Officiant continued

  “I will share my life with yours and build our dreams together”

  “Support you through times of trouble and rejoice with you in times of happiness”

  “Support you through times of trouble and rejoice with you in times of happiness”

  “I promise to give you respect, love and loyalty”

  “I promise to give you respect, love and loyalty”

  “This commitment is made in love, kept in faith, lived in hope and made new every day of our lives“

  “This commitment is made in love, kept in faith, lived in hope, and made new every day of our lives.” It was then your turn to repeat the same vows and then continued with the ring exchange until it was finally time to announce your new relationship

  “I am pleased to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Andersen!” you smiled before you opened your mouth in surprise and turning to Freddie

  “We’re married!” you replied

  “We are” he returned as the two of you made your way back down the aisle into the castle. The reception was everything you didn’t know you wanted and Freddie got all of his Danish traditions that the two of you had discussed during all the months of planning and it was perfect. You danced all night, you drank too much and sang call and response songs with the guests, you spent most of the night in a pair of fuzzy slippers that Freddie surprised you with and you made sure to get as many pictures with everyone as possible; but the most important thing to you was that Jackson and Freddie were by your side

  “My two beautiful boys. My lovely men. I love you both so much. SO MUCH!” you drunkenly slurred as you kissed each of their cheeks

  “I think it’s time you get some water” Freddie smirked

  “That sounds good”

  “Mom?” Jackson asked as Freddie made his way to the bar to grab you a glass

  “Yeah?” you asked, moving his soft hair behind his ear

  “What happens now?”

  “You really like that question, don’t you?” you laughed, just as Freddie returned with an almost overflowing glass of water

  “Here you go, Elske” he said and kissed your forehead before taking his seat next to you

  “Thank you, husband” you cooed, leaning in for a kiss

  “You’re welcome, wife” he smiled before kissing you softly

  “Baby, to answer your question,” you turned your attention back to Jackson, “what happens now is that we start our life together. As our own little unit, our little family. We’ll go on adventures, you’ll go to more games and we’ll all celebrate the wins together and cope with the losses together. It doesn’t matter because we’ll all be together”

  “Does that sound good?” Freddie asked and Jackson nodded. You directed them out onto the dance floor for one final dance before Charlotte and Ernst had agreed to take Jackson upstairs so he could get some sleep. Guests started to make their way to you to say goodbye and, before long, it was just you and Freddie left alone in the ballroom

  “Hey,” you whispered as his fingers traced along your thigh, “wanna dance?”

  “Yeah” he whispered back before bringing your face to his, kissing you slowly but intensely. You tucked yourself close to his body, letting his heartbeat guide your movements before you were left alone in silence, not realizing everyone had cleared out. “Can you believe that we get to spend the night in a castle?”

  “Can you believe we’re married?” you giggled, your head still resting on his chest

  “I can,” he admitted with a laughed, “I just can’t believe it took us this long”

  “Good things come to those who wait” you teased

  “Yes they do”

  “I love you, husband”

  “I love you, too, wife.”

[s1rcus]

The Road to Love and Truth (Blackhill)

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 2827

Chapter: 2/2

Fandoms: Marvel

Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Maria Hill, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury

Additional tags: -

Summary: Maria struggles after her night with Natasha. She gets some good advice from Steve.

Authors note: Blackhill Bingo square I3 "Steve Rogers"

Story below the cut or in AO3 here

Maria still has a huge headache. She's been debating taking another aspirin to ease it down for the past 10 minutes, but it hasn't been too long since she took the first one and it might just not be working yet. The situation with Romanoff might not be helping either.

Without thinking she's making her way towards Phil's office. She's not sure why, she knows she won't talk about something like this to him. He's a good friend but she just can't talk about her sex life with him, less about feelings. Maybe he'll have some work she can do to distract her from the night before. She can't use her key card on a day off, (Fury has made it very clear she's not supposed to be doing work during any type of leave) so she can't go to her own office to continue work.

Phil isn't in his office. Now that she actually thinks about it, he has been on a mission since yesterday. She still needs something to distract her though. Maybe Fury would let it slide this once if she'd go do work, but she'd rather not see him right now. She decides to just go for a walk. Hopefully that'll clear her head a little.

------

The fresh air does help her headache and clears her head just the tiniest bit as well. She stands outside of the Triskelion for a short time and decides to go for a short walk along the river.

She keeps her eyes mostly on the water as she walks hands in the pockets of her sweats. She probably should've changed if she's honest, but she didn't want to go back to her room. SHIELD agents weren't that rare sight around these parts, but they definitely didn't go out in their gym clothes. She kicks around some pebbles every once in a while that are lying around the sidewalk.

She loses track of time, trying to just focus on nothing but the movement of the water. And she might have let her guard down, because she gets startled, when a hand taps her on the shoulder.

"Maria, what are you doing out here?"

"Jesus, Steve. Warn a girl next time."

"I literally yelled your name when I saw you. You're not usually this distracted. Are you okay?"

There's concern on his face and Maria doesn't like it one bit. She's fine, and even if she wasn't, everyone else needs to think she is.

"Everything's fine," she lies.

Steve gives her a long look, not quite believing her.

"You can always talk to me, you know? Whatever it is that's bothering you, I'll listen."

Damn Steve, and his kind heart.

"I know," she says.

"Okay, well I'm gonna finish my run. Come and find me if you want to talk about whatever this is," he says as he runs past her.

Maria just waves him off. She continues along the river for a while longer until her headache becomes worse again. Deciding it's best to just go back and take another aspirin, she turns around and heads towards the Triskelion again.

------

Eventually Maria realises she needs to talk to someone so she heads towards Steve's quarters and knocks on his door. He opens the door with a smile. They're good friends but it's quite rare she actually ends up on his doorstep.

"Hey, Maria. What's up?"

"I slept with Natasha," she answers as she pushes past him into his room. She sits on his bed, head in her hands. She hears the door click shut as Steve closes it.

"Not what I was expecting. How are you feeling?"

Maria groans at the question, "I don't know. I find out she's queer and few days later I find her in my bed. That's not how that should go. And worst of all I want to do it again, but I don't think I can just keep it at that."

"So you want to ask her out?"

"I think so?" She says and lays down on the bed so she can stare at the ceiling. "But I'm her superior, it's unprofessional, not to mention way too complicated. How am I supposed to be able to send her out there, if I'm worried if she'll make it back? How is Fury supposed to trust in me, if I get compromised because of her? Or what if I make the wrong decision, because I can't--" Steve cuts her off. She feels the bed dip, as he sits next to her on the bed and places a hand on her knee.

"Maria, you're forgetting one important thing, she's the Black Widow, she knows how to handle herself. Do you know how many times she's saved me out there? Because I've lost count by now. And Fury won't see you any differently if you start showing normal people emotions. Also stop worrying about 'what if's. Those are situations you can't know the answers for before it's too late. And for the record, I think you're already compromised. You care more about her than you know. Have for a long time."

"Fuck", Maria breaths the word out.

"Language."

"No, I actually fucked up."

"What did you do?"

"I just left her. She wanted to talk, and I just left her. I wasn't thinking clearly. I told her it was a mistake. Well it technically was because that was definitely not how I wanted that to go, but… I let her believe I don't want her. Shit!" She gets up quickly and starts pacing around. "I gotta go find her. Tell her that I'm sorry for how I treated her. That last night was great. Not that I really remember anything. To hopefully ask her properly out." She freezes on her tracks and turns to face Steve. "What if she says no? How am I supposed to continue working with her then?"

"Maria", Steve warns her.

"Right, won't know the answers before it's too late." She takes a deep breath. "Okay, I'm gonna go to find her. I wonder where she could be."

"At the gym with Barton."

"How would you know that?"

"Just a hunch."

------

She does find Natasha at the gym. She's beating up Barton at the mats. Maria decides to just stay by the door and watch, she'll notice her eventually. Natasha seems more tense than normal, maybe even a little angry. She doesn't move around as smoothly as she usually does. Her movements are a little more jacked, more forced. Maria realises that she's not fighting with a clear head. She's trying to push her feelings out. Maria was the reason the Widow's usually flawlessly smooth fighting style looked harsh and broken. It makes her heart twinge.

Eventually Natasha pins Barton down and he taps out. She gets up and her gaze shifts to Maria's. Maria physically flinches under her gaze. She quickly straightens her back and neutralises her face, when Barton gets back onto his feet and notices her presence.

"Commander," he coughs, eyes moving from Maria to Natasha and back again. After a couple of beats of silence he starts backing towards the men's locker room. "I'll just go then."

Maria just looks at Natasha, not really sure what she's supposed to say. Before she's able to say anything, Natasha turns on her heels and heads towards the women's locker rooms. That gets Maria on the move as well. She runs after Natasha and grabs her from the upper arm.

"Natasha wait," Maria says and Natasha stops on her tracks. "I'm sorry about earlier. Can we talk?"

Natasha turns around and Maria tries to look as apologetic as she can. Natasha just stares at her for a while.

"Fine. My quarters in 10."

Maria nods and drops her hold of the other woman. She didn't even realise she had still been holding her upper arm. Natasha eyes her quickly once more before she turns around again and heads out of sight to the locker room. Maria just stands still for a while, looking after her, until she spins around as well and heads out of the gym and towards Natasha's quarters.

------

Natasha is punctual as ever, and appears exactly 10 minutes later. Maria follows her silently into her room. Natasha sits down on her bed, one leg under herself while the other hangs off the edge. Maria is reminded of the morning. She stays standing near the door, but is faced towards Natasha. She's trying to figure out her words, even though she's been trying to figure out what to say ever since she walked out of Steve's quarters.

"Well?" Natasha prompts her.

"I fucked up. I'm really sorry for how I treated you. I panicked and I fucked up. I try my best to keep my private life and work separate, and I mostly live at work so… I'm having a hard time, to put it lightly. I also have never done this before."

"What? Been with a woman?" Natasha asks with a serious tone. It takes Maria a beat to realise she's not actually seriously asking that.

"No, Romanoff. You know that's not what I meant. I mean sleeping with a co-worker. Actually kinda never slept with anyone without being on a date first. And especially never had someone in my bed in a SHIELD facility."

"So I was your first one night stand?"

"About that, I wouldn't mind doing it again."

"Was I that good?" Natasha asks with a smirk.

"Natasha! I'm not talking about the sex. I'm talking about all of it. Everything since the mission. Spending time together at that bar and during the mission and also everything that came after."

"Wow. Is Commander Hill getting soft?"

"No,” she says. Taking a breath she continues, “I'd just like to see if this could become something. You're one of the few people around here who I can stand, and I actually had a really nice time yesterday. And I'm not regretting what happened after, so that probably says a lot."

Natasha gives her a small smile.

"What changed?"

"What do you mean?"

"You left the room in such a hurry and now you're here saying you don't regret it."

"Yeah, that. I might've talked to Steve and he had some good advice."

"You went to Steve?" Natasha's voice sounds almost scandalous.

"Who else would I go to? Fury? Do you think I have many friends around here? People who I could talk to?"

"Fair enough."

"So, if I'd ask you out on a date what would you say?"

"I would love to, but do you really want to go on a date? Because I feel like we're not the dating kind of people."

That was actually fair, she did always hate going on dates.

"What do you suggest then?"

"How about this?" Maria is really unsure about how she should feel about the smirk that follows that one simple question.

Natasha gets up and walks towards Maria. She stops when their chests are basically touching. She grabs Maria's hands and wraps them around her waist. Then she wraps her own arms around Maria's neck and rises up on her toes to kiss her. Maria basically melts into it. Eventually she lifts Natasha up and they move on the bed. Natasha seems very impressed that Maria can lift her. Maria might be a bit hurt about that.

------

When they decide to leave for an early lunch (neither remembered to eat breakfast), they're barely 100 feet down the hallway from Natasha's room, when they're stopped by a junior agent.

"Commander, Agent Romanoff. Director Fury wants to speak to both of you."

Maria and Natasha exchange a look.

"Did he say what about?" Maria asks.

"Not really," the Agent answers but there's a look on his face Maria doesn't like. It's like he knows something he shouldn't.

Maria debates for a little bit, if she should push and get some answers from him but decides against it. She dismisses the agent and starts heading towards the Directors office with Natasha.

They get a couple weird looks and smiles on the way there. They walk the whole way in silence. Both clearly trying to figure out what Fury wants from them.

Fury sees them immediately, which tells Maria that it's something important. She's getting nervous. Natasha is here as well, so her mind goes only to a specific direction, but how would Fury know?

"Director Fury, you wanted to see us?" Maria greets him.

"Hill, Romanoff. Has either of you checked the news today or any social media?"

Natasha shakes her head. She's been awfully quiet after they ran into that agent.

"No, sir. I haven't checked my phone at all today. Pretty sure it's dead anyway. I've been a bit distracted," Maria answers truthfully. There's no point in lying.

"Well, you probably should stay out of social media for a little while but that's just a suggestion. Do you have anything else to report to me?" His eye shifts from Maria to Natasha and back.

He knows. Maria takes a deep breath. She feels Natasha's hand touch hers, a sign that it's okay.

"Yes, sir. We, uh... Natasha and I are involved."

"Will it be affecting your work?"

"No, sir."

"Then I'm happy for you," he says with the slightest hint of a smile.

Maria is surprised and she can sense that so is Natasha. She lets her posture get a little more relaxed.

"Now to the real reason I invited you in," Fury says as he pulls some tabloid articles up on the screen behind himself. They're all saying basically the same thing: Black Widow at a gay bar with a mystery woman . Some of them have clearly done a better job with trying to figure out who this "mystery woman" is because a couple of them have actual pictures of Maria along with her name. And there's pictures. Pictures of them kissing, the intense looks they changed during that night and pictures of them leaving together.

"We tried to get them down before they spread too far, but clearly we didn't manage that. Anything about the Avengers' personal life spreads like a fire. I'm sorry about the situation it puts you in."

Both of the women just nod. There wasn't anything to say. Fury takes this as his answer and turns off the screen.

"Well then, you're dismissed. Hill, if you could stay for just a little longer?"

Natasha squeezes her shoulder a little before she steps out of the room.

"Sir?"

"No reason to be that formal anymore. This is just me checking on you. How are you feeling?"

"Well, that's a lot, but I think I'm fine. It's not the way I wanted things to go, but I guess it's good that it's out. If we wish to go out, now we don't need to worry if someone sees us or not."

"Okay, still I wish the situation wasn't this. I strongly suggest that you don't check any social media for the next few days. I know you think you can handle it, but there's gonna be some bad stuff there and I'd prefer the dust settles a bit first. Also if anyone, and I mean anyone, in SHIELD gives either of you a hard time because of this, let me know. I will handle it. It's out there, so everyone knows. I wish you could've handled this on your own terms, but the situation is what it is."

Maria smiles at him.

"Thank you, Director. I know I said it won't affect my work, and I truly believe and hope so, but if it ever seems like I'm putting her before the mission; pull me out of it, if possible. I know I won't be happy about it, but I need to know that I won't be making mistakes because I'm compromised."

"Of course. But I have full belief that you'll do great even then."

Maria nods and heads towards the door but Fury's voice makes her turn around before she gets to open it.

"Also, before you go. I am truly happy for you, Maria."

Maria smiles at him and nods her thanks and joins Natasha on the other side of the door.

Natasha hugs her as she closes the door. Maria circles her arms around her and presses her cheek against Natasha's head.

"That went better than I expected." She hears Natasha mumble against her chest.

"It did," Maria agrees.

"I'm so sorry about the articles though. If I would've just realised--" Maria quiets her with a kiss.

"Natasha, there's nothing you could've done about it. The second we walked in there everyone was paying extra attention to us. Those articles would be there even if we hadn't kissed. I'm just glad we did. I don't think I would've ever dared to take this step otherwise," Maria says. She looks Natasha in the eye and they exchange smiles. "Now, how about that lunch?"

[secretpajamas]

a different kind of rush;

an ezra x reader fic

pairing: ezra (prospect) x female reader

rating: explicit

genre: romance/smut/and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

words: 5.6k

part 2 of 2 (read part one HERE)

please scroll to the end to “content” if you would like to know specific smut-related content before reading!

--

When you emerged from the shower, you changed into your long sleep shirt (the thing was far too old and ratty at this point to be considered a “nightgown”). Even though it wasn’t dark out yet, you figured you might as well go to bed at the rate this day was going.

As you slowly crept through the tent partition, you noticed that Ezra was gone—and so was his gear.

You found a note in Ezra’s barely-legible scrawl placed at the foot of your bed.

“Starstone quality check,” you mumbled, reading the note aloud.

Starstone was so finicky that it was necessary to check up on it in storage to make sure it maintained its stability. But you knew in your gut he was avoiding you. While he was out, you cleaned the filters and checked the tanks like you always did—minus the filter and tank that Ezra was currently using—the methodical work helping soothe your nerves a little.

When Ezra came back in, you were sitting up in bed, reading the book Ezra’s kid Cee had hand-written (“She didn’t come up with the story, but she basically rewrote the whole damn thing herself. Smarter than she knows, that kid.”). It wasn’t your usual kind of story, and not even your usual medium of consumption (you preferred late-night radio dramas, but they broadcast from the Ephrate—the signal was spotty at best in the Fringes and nonexistent here in the Reach), but it was captivating nonetheless.

You didn’t look up from the book as Ezra walked in. Neither of you said a word.

Part of you was relieved that you didn’t talk about it.

The other part of you was desperate to talk about it.

--

The next morning, you woke to Ezra sitting at his makeshift desk—a chair set in front of an old wooden shipping crate—swirling together the starstone enzyme bath. He was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a gray t-shirt, his hair already matted with perspiration from the heat.

You grumbled and slowly sat up.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Ezra said, not lifting his eyes from his work.

“Mmph,” was your sleepy response.

“Oats are ready if you have a hankering,” he continued, gesturing with his head towards the “kitchen”—another wooden shipping crate, this one with a battery-operated stove placed on top.

You were suddenly very awake at the promise of food. “Please tell me there’s coffee, too.”

“Haven’t made it yet,” he replied. “Go easy on the stuff, you’ve drunk near all my supply.”

“I believe food and board is included in my contract.” You yawned before shuffling your way over to the stove.

“Food and board, sweetheart, not drink.” Ezra held the canister of freshly mixed enzyme solution between his knees as he twisted on the cap with his hand.

Your stomach rumbled and you eagerly grabbed your bowl of oatmeal. After wolfing down your breakfast, you filled Ezra’s rickety kettle with water and set it on the stove, turning the power up to high. You pawed around the mismatched collection of canteens piled next to the stove until you found two clean ones and set them out, along with four packets of powdered coffee (three for you, one for Ezra). It was the instant stuff anyone could grab for cheap at a shuttle station, and it tasted wretched, but it did its job.

As you waited for the water to boil—not long when the water in storage was already warm thanks to this planet’s heat—You heard Ezra stand up and approach you. When you felt his hand brush the small of your back, you shivered.

Ezra huffed. “Are you cold? For cryin’ out loud, woman, it’s hotter’n two channel-rats fuckin’ in a wool sock.”

“Must be caffeine withdrawal,” you lied, knowing full well it was Ezra’s touch.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth and you nearly shivered again. “I suppose it’s high time I replenish our supplies,” he said, “lest you pillage the remainder of my coffee.”

When the kettle began to whistle, you switched off the stove and poured equal amounts of hot water into the cups—and unequal amounts of coffee packets. All the while, Ezra’s hand stayed on your back.

“Speaking of supplies, we could use another full O2 tank,” you said, trying your best to ignore how your stomach did somersaults every time Ezra absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against the material of your sleep shirt, “and coolant for the air circulators.”

“I’m well aware,” Ezra said, “but thank you kindly for the reminder.”

You offered Ezra his canteen of coffee. You mourned the loss of his hand on your back, but feeling the brush of his fingers against yours as you handed him his cup was nearly as electrifying.

“S’posin’ we pull a good haul of starstone today, I can ready the pod for the shuttle station tomorrow,” he said between sips. “Be back within a couple days’ time.”

You swallowed down a lump in your throat along with your coffee. You did need supplies, but it was hardly urgent—was he really that keen on avoiding you? But the way he just touched your back—he’d never been more intimate than friendly pats on the shoulder before—

“The shuttle station gets a clearer radio signal to the Ephrate,” Ezra continued, “I can have a good an’ proper talk with Cee.”

Oh. He wants to talk to his kid, you moron. Why did you make this about yourself and your ill-timed masturbatory ventures?

“I’ll hold down the fort, then,” you said between gulps of your coffee.

“I’m countin’ on it,” Ezra said. “Now let’s score some stone afore this bitch of a planet bakes us alive.”

–

Ezra was gone before you woke, but you had expected it. He told you as much last night. But you still couldn’t shake the notion that he was avoiding you. You sighed deeply before untangling yourself from the bedsheets and crawling over to make your morning coffee.

On the table, the kettle was already set out on the stovetop, along with three coffee packets, a clean canteen, and a note from Ezra.

“Radio at 21:00,” you mumbled. That was tonight—so he was planning to call you as soon as he got in. You couldn’t help but smile as you made your coffee.

You didn’t have to mine today or tomorrow, thanks to working double-time yesterday (and your aching muscles certainly reminded you of that), but there was still plenty to do around the tent. After gulping down your coffee, you started with the pile of laundry in the corner. It was the most urgent order of business, based on how it was beginning to climb up the wall—and how much it stunk. You filled a basin with water and soap and got to work.

While hanging the garments to dry, you noticed a pair of Ezra’s compression pants had a tear in the thigh—thankfully, it was on a side seam, so you could easily sew it shut. You noted to fix it as soon as it was finished drying. You wondered if you could mend anything else, noting Ezra’s ratty assortment of boxers and briefs. If he made any cash in the aurelac rush, he certainly didn’t spend any of it on underwear. You could mend holes, but you couldn’t work miracles.

As you waited for the clothes to dry, you snacked on a ration bar and read more of Cee’s book. You were invested in the characters now, despite your initial skepticism of the subject matter. You had to admit, it was a bit of a page-turner. After a while, you didn’t want to put it down. You moved from sitting at Ezra’s desk to leaning against one of the tent supports to laying on your bed mat, your eyes glued to the page.

When you finally came to a satisfying enough chapter to pause your reading, you looked around for a piece of scrap paper to mark your place. You picked up Ezra’s note and tucked it inside the pages before shutting the book. You noticed the laundry hanging up was dry—had you really been reading that long? Oh well. Time to get mending.

–

You had mended Ezra’s pants, a pair of his socks, and were about to sew a button back on the pocket of your suit when you heard your name crackle from the radio headset in the corner. Startled, you dropped your work, the button skittering across the floor.

“Gimme a minute!” You shouted, hoping your headset would pick it up from across the tent. You quickly found the runaway button and placed it on Ezra’s desk before scrambling to your side of the tent to put on your headset.

“Sorry about that,” you said, “I’m here. You get in okay?”

“All in one piece,” came Ezra’s voice in your ear, “give or take an arm.”

You rolled your eyes at Ezra’s wisecrack. “Talk to Cee yet?”

“Not yet,” Ezra said, “with the time difference between here and the Ephrate, she’s still in class. I shan’t interrupt her studies.”

You looked at the book where it lay on Ezra’s desk and smiled. “Well, when you call her, tell her I said hello.”

“Will do.”

“So, what station did you end up at?” You asked.

“Trinity,” Ezra replied.

“Trinity,” you said, “don’t think I’ve been on Trinity since the rush.”

“Ain’t any different,” Ezra said, “still got egregious docking fees and an abundance of unpleasant company.”

“Already shooed away a pick-pocket busker, haven’t you?”

“Several,” Ezra grumbled, “Damn this stump, they think I’m an easy target.”

“Were any of them good players, at least?” You asked.

“Truthfully, the boy on the panpipes was a talented little devil,” he said, “both in playing his instrument and his victims. I let him pilfer a coin from my pocket—I fancy myself a patron of the arts.”

You snorted. “You keep coin in your pocket? On Trinity?”

“Sweetheart, it’s the decoy cash,” Ezra explained. “You keep a couple low-credit coin in your pocket for the vandals so that they don’t go scroungin’ for the heavy-hittin’ gems in your suit lining.”

“Speaking of your suit lining,” you said, “I’ve been doing some mending.”

You heard Ezra’s raspy laugh through your headset. “Don’t suppose you’ve been sewin’ up my underthings.”

“Those are hopeless,” you remarked, “I meant your spare compression pants.”

“Ah!” Ezra said. “I do recall those had a rip in ’em. I was fixin’ to fix those.”

“Well, I figured I’d do it as long as I had the time,” you said. “Also darned a pair of your socks.”

“Are you anglin’ for a raise?” You could hear the smile in Ezra’s voice.

“Your listing did say ���compensation negotiable,’” you replied.

“Hmm. That it did,” Ezra said. “Perhaps we shall negotiate upon my return.”

The radio line lay silent for a moment, and you felt a nervous pang in your stomach. Enough small talk. You needed to say something about what happened the other day—even if it was just to apologize.

“Ezra?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He replied.

“Is everything... Okay? With us?” You asked, trying to suppress the anxiety in your voice.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Ezra replied, before quickly adding in lowered tone, “Did somethin’... rub you the wrong way?”

“Kevva help me,” you grumbled, feeling the wave embarrassment crawl up your spine. “I’m so sorry, Ezra. It won’t happen again.”

“Stop apologizin’. There ain’t a thing wrong indulgin’ in a little well-earned self-pleasure.”

The way he said pleasure made your breath hitch. You hoped like hell it didn’t pick up on the radio.

“If there’s one thing I’ve come to realize in my years,” he said, “is that there’s no use feelin’ shame in feelin’ good.”

His voice was smooth and deliberate now. That bastard knew exactly what he was doing to you. “So don’t you stop yourself because of me—truthfully, I don’t mind. Not one bit.”

Hesitantly, you reached down to press the heel of your hand against your clit, choking back a moan threatening to escape your throat—but not entirely succeeding.

You heard Ezra’s breath coming loud and heavy through the radio. “Are you touchin’ yourself right now, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you gasped out, your previous inhibitions completely shattered.

“Fuck,” Ezra replied. “Thank Kevva this radio headset is hands-free.”

You heard what might have been Ezra undoing his zipper—and your suspicions were confirmed when you heard a low moan through the radio.

“Ezra—”

“Do you have the faintest idea what you do to me, woman?” The line swelled with static and the throaty rasp of Ezra’s voice. “Told myself not to—made myself not think of you like that. It ain’t proper. But when you—you let me watch—”

You whined and slid your hand beneath your underwear. “I was thinking of you,” you confessed, “always thinking of you—”

“It’s a cryin’ shame,” Ezra said, “all I’ve got is spit-slick and a weak hand wishin’ like hell it was you.”

You sped up the pace of your fingers as he continued.

“If you were here,” he said, “I’d bury myself inside you so deep—ah, fuck—’til you were the only thing I could feel.”

At his words, you slid two fingers inside yourself up to the knuckle, arching your hips, trying to get them as deep as they could go, thumb tirelessly working at your clit.

“I want that,” you panted, “I want you.”

“—Make you come on my cock again and again ’til you’re dizzy with it,” he said, “fuck you so hard you feel it the next day.”

Ezra’s words were pushing you close to the edge. “Ezra, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he groaned, “let me hear you, sweetheart.”

You came to the overwhelming sound of Ezra’s broken moans and your own desperate cries and the static of the radio and the beating of your heart—

a discordant symphony of absolute ecstasy.

–

Ezra returned the following night with a full pod of supplies. You worked together like a well-oiled machine, moving various goods from the pod to the tent in an orderly fashion. You both made small talk—Cee was doing well at the Academy, the shuttle station shop was stocked enough with what they needed, no, they didn’t have real coffee, just the shit stuff in packets.

Despite the friendly conversation, the air was thick with unspoken words.

It was hot out—as it always was on this planet—so you breathed a huge sigh of relief when you had both moved all the supplies to the tent and you could leave the sweaty pod. You both discarded your helmets and stood in front of the air circulator on Ezra’s side of the tent, sifting through the supplies and placing them where they belonged throughout the tent.

When you reached at the same time as Ezra for a can of coolant, your hands collided, sending a shockwave up your arm and stopping your breath.

You both froze, staring at your hands where they met.

Slowly, carefully, Ezra intertwined your fingers with his.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he whispered, those beautiful brown eyes of his gazing at you tenderly.

You couldn’t take it anymore—you climbed over the pile of supplies between you and pressed your lips to his.

He let out a surprised little noise against your mouth before returning the kiss with fervor, wrapping his arm tightly around you and pressing you close to his chest.

“Couldn’t—stop—thinkin’ of you,” he said between kisses.

“Do you want to—can we—” You gasped against his mouth.

“Yes,” he breathed, scrambling to work at the zips and fasteners on his suit. He didn’t object when you reached out to help remove the suit—and honestly, you weren’t thinking of it as helping him, more like getting all your clothes off as fast as possible because holy shit this was happening. Ezra had already removed his boots when he took his helmet off earlier, and you were only dressed in your undershirt and shorts, so this blasted contraption of a suit was the main obstacle.

You both managed to get the damn thing off and Ezra kicked it aside. He reached back, grabbing his sweaty t-shirt behind the collar to tug it over his head. You grasped the hem of your top and pulled it up and off, throwing it to the growing pile of discarded clothing.

You were about to strip off your shorts when Ezra reached for you again, kissing your mouth, your jaw, your neck, down to the tops of your breasts along the edge of your bra. You scrambled to unclasp it, letting it fall to the floor. Ezra wasted no time, cupping a breast in his hand and lavishing kisses on the other. When you felt the wet heat of his tongue against your nipple, you cried out, grabbing his hair and giving it a tug. He moaned against your breast before pulling away to look at you.

“Let’s take this to a bed,” you urged.

Ezra nodded vigorously in agreement and you both stumbled over to his bed mat, falling atop the sheets in a tangle of limbs.

Ezra sat up and you situated yourself on his lap, wrapping your legs around him. You could kiss him like this for hours, his tongue in your mouth, your fingers in his hair, his hand steady and warm on your back.

When you both took a moment to catch your breath, Ezra cleared his throat and looked you in the eye, his expression almost timid.

“I must confess, I have not had the chance to... partake, since I lost my arm,” he said. “I may not be as formidable a sparrin’ partner as I once was.”

“Ezra, I’m sure it doesn’t matter,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. He stopped you with a press of a finger to your lips.

“Allow me to enlighten you.” He shrugged with his stump. “Nothin’s as it once was. I can’t even take a piss the same way. Ever try to hold a dick with a hand that ain’t there?”

“Can’t say I have,” you said.

“Oh, hush, birdie, you can understand the sentiment,” Ezra grumbled. “Everything is at the behest of my damned weak hand. I can’t read my own handwriting anymore. Can’t shoot like I used to—my grip’s shit on the left. Even gettin’ dressed is harder than minin’ aurelac.”

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair before continuing. “And as long as we’re on the subject of minin’, I can no longer mine most things on my lonesome. Each harvest is hardly half of my previous yields, and I got the kid to support on top of everything. Now, Cee deserves every bit of that support, do not misunderstand my words—I would move Kevva and earth for that girl. But such meager wages do tend to make one feel... inadequate. A man’s work is no petty thing.”

You listened to Ezra attentively, not knowing how you could get it across to him that he was no less of a man in your eyes than if he had two arms. You wanted to reassure him, but he pressed on.

“So please, allow me to posit this caveat,”  he said, “that I intend to make love to you, and to do so to the fullest of my capabilities—but even my best efforts may prove... unsatisfactory.”

Make love. Ezra wanted to make love to you. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

You were so stunned by Ezra’s choice of vocabulary that it took you a moment to process what he said.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t think you can make me come.”

Ezra ducked his head; you could have sworn he was blushing. “You always cut right to the quick.”

You cupped his cheek, running your thumb along the little white scar there.

“Ezra, I don’t care. I just want this. With you.” You glanced down to where you straddled his lap, rolling your hips a little against his growing arousal. “And forgive me if I’m assuming things, but it seems like you want it, too.”

Ezra moaned quietly at your movements. “My desire was never in question, I assure you,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile.

You leaned in and kissed him softly. He returned the kiss before gently moving you off his lap.

“Lie down, sweetheart,” he whispered, and you eagerly obliged, reclining on the mattress. He settled on top of you, propping himself up on his elbow, kissing you passionately. Eager to get your hands on him, you hooked a finger under his waistband and gave a tug.

“Whoa there,” Ezra said, “slow down, spitfire.”

You moved your hand away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, believe me. But those clever hands of yours will have to wait, because I’ve been starvin’ for you,” he said with a sly grin, kissing a path down your breasts to your stomach, “and I can no longer deny myself a taste.”

It took a moment for your Ezra Translator to kick in. “Oh.” You scrambled to shimmy your shorts and underwear down. Ezra took over, pulling them all the way off and tossing them over his shoulder before leaning down to continue his trail of kisses.

He nudged at your thigh with his head and you eagerly opened your legs for him. Rough stubble tickled your thighs as he kissed his way to your cunt. At the first feeling of his hot breath against your clit, your hips jumped up out of their own volition, knocking Ezra off his left elbow and face-planting him onto the bed beneath you.

“Sorry!” You squeaked. You reached out to steady him but stopped yourself—you knew he hated being helped.

“Hell’s bells,” Ezra grunted. He gripped at the sheets with his hand as he slowly pushed himself to sit upright.

“Left arm ain’t worth shit,” he grumbled under his breath, “can’t even hold me up.”

“It’s alright, Ezra,” you said, “we can try again.”

“Indeed we can,” Ezra said. He lay down on his back next to you and motioned to his chin. “Take a seat, sweetheart.”

“Um,” you started. You’d done this before, but not like that. “I don’t want to—hurt you.”

“Kevva’s sake, woman, I ain’t gonna break,” Ezra said, then added with a grin, “if I suffocate on account of your cunt, I will embrace death with open arms. Well, one of ’em, anyway.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said with a groan.

“Here lies Ezra, drowned in pussy,” he continued teasing, eyeing you with a wicked grin.

You hesitantly shuffled toward him. Drumming up some courage, you knelt above him, one knee on either side of his head. You were so nervous that you could hear your pulse roaring in your ears.

Whether impatient or just eager, Ezra grabbed you by the hip, then, and urged you down onto his mouth.

You gasped, bracing yourself as you felt the white-hot warmth of his tongue against your cunt. You choked back a moan, your hips stuttering forward, trying not to grind down too hard on his face. Ezra was having none of that. He urged you to move, his hand gripping your hip and firmly pulling you forward. With a little more certainty, you rocked your hips forward and back, making his tongue slide against your clit in long strokes. You moaned again, louder this time, and Ezra hummed his desperate response, burying his face in your pussy like a man starving.

You rutted against him urgently, your thighs beginning to burn from holding yourself up over him. Your movements became less graceful, more desperate—you slid forward too far, causing your slit to grind against the bridge of his nose, and you’d be embarrassed if didn’t feel so damn good. You were right on the precipice, moments away from shaking apart, when Ezra stilled your hips with his hand and brought you back to his tongue. He latched his mouth over your clit and sucked on it, wet and sloppy and fucking perfect.

“Fuck, Ezra,” you gasped, the heat coiling inside you tighter and tighter, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—”

Ezra growled, his teeth grazing your clit for a moment, and the jolt of sensation just on the right edge of pain had you coming so hard you thought you might black out. You stumbled forward, reaching out to break your fall, your cunt pulling away from his mouth. Somehow, Ezra knew you needed more, reaching behind his head for you and guiding you back in place with his hand. He began to lap at you again, working you through another shaking shockwave of pleasure.

You had to pull away before it was too much. You collapsed next to Ezra on the too-small mattress, trying to catch your breath, feeling your thighs burn and your cunt twitch and your heart sing.

“Give me a minute,” you gasped.

“Take all the time you need, sweetheart,” Ezra said, equally breathless.

You turned to look at Ezra. His face was flushed red, beads of sweat dripping down to mix with your slick that had ended up all over his mouth and chin—and his nose. He looked absolutely filthy and you’d be mortified if he didn’t look so damn pleased with himself.

You reached for your discarded t-shirt and gently wiped at his face, cleaning up the most offensive wet patches before tossing it aside again. “Sorry,” you said.

Ezra chuckled. “I do not accept your apology, ma’am,” he teased. “That was sexier than hittin’ a motherlode of aurelac.”

“Now that’s high praise,” you teased back.

“C’mere and kiss me,” he all but whispered, reaching out to hold your chin between his thumb and index finger. You closed the distance and pressed your lips against his. It was almost chaste—if not for the knowledge of where that mouth had just been.

He pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed deeply, absentmindedly playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

You looked down at the straining bulge in his pants, snaking your hand down to stroke at him through the fabric. A little choked moan tumbled from his throat at your touch.

“Let’s take this off,” you said, thumbing the waistband. He nodded in agreement, laying on his back and lifting his hips so you could pull his pants down and off in short order. His cock sprang free, hard and aching.

You licked your lips. “No underwear?”

“Too fuckin’ hot for underwear,” he said, gasping when you gently rested your hand on the crease where his thigh met his hip.

You moved your hand up and down his thigh, making him squirm and thrust up against nothing but air. He practically whined, his hand clawing at the sheets.

“Touch me,” he begged, voice cracking.

“I am touching you,” you said with a wolfish grin.

“Damn it, woman,” he groaned, “if the heat don’t kill me, you sure as shit will have the pleasure yourself.”

“Patience,” you chided, not sure how long you could keep this up—you wanted him inside you, and you wanted him now—but you loved seeing him spread out and desperate for you.

Finally, you wrapped your hand around him and gave a long, firm stroke. He threw his head back and moaned, arching into your touch. You licked your lips as you studied his cock, the thick length of it twitching ever so slightly in your hand. You rubbed at the underside of the head with your thumb and your mouth watered when a bead of precome welled up at the tip. On instinct, you moved down to lick it off.

Ezra cursed, bucking up to meet your mouth. You held him down by the hip before taking him into your mouth as far as you could.

“Fuck, sweetheart—I—fuck!” Ezra cried out, clawing at the sheets with his hand, writhing against your hand where it held him down. When you tentatively reached down to gently squeeze his balls, he nearly sobbed.

“I’m gonna—” Ezra gasped.

You pulled your mouth off of him, then, replacing it with your hand, not moving, just holding him at the base.

“Hold on, I didn’t say stop,” he said with a breathless chuckle. “Everything alright?”

“I want you inside me,” you whispered, barely audible.

Ezra reached out to still your movements. “I don’t have protection, sweetheart,” he said, voice strained.

You bit your bottom lip, averting Ezra’s gaze for a moment. “I have the implant,” you said, looking him in the eye again.

Ezra’s eyebrow shot up. “Well, shit, woman,” he said. “Thought they only had those fancy contraptions in the Ephrate.”

“They do,” you said. “I did have some decent money, once. In the rush. Before my crew took it all and left.”

“You and I have trod similar paths, so it would seem,” Ezra said.

“The rush left a lot of us in the dust,” you said.

Ezra nodded. “The deadliest dust there is.”

After a long moment, he sat up to kiss you, just a gentle press of lips. You put your arms around him and closed your eyes, breathing with him for a moment.

“How do you want to—which way should we—” you stumbled over your words.

“You may have me whichever way you desire,” Ezra said, voice low in your ear, “and I will do my darnedest to provide.”

“Can—can you be on top?” You started, “I mean—I will if it’s easier, but my thighs are kind of killing me.”

Ezra chuckled, and you thrilled at the vibration of it against your chest. “Lay back,” he said.

You complied, laying down on the bed mat. He reached behind you to grab the pillow.

“Lift up that pretty ass of yours for me,” he said, and you did. Kneeling before you, he placed the pillow under your hips.

“Reckon my knees will hold me up longer than my arm,” he said, gripping your hip to tug you towards him.

“Guess both our thighs will be burning tonight,” you said with a sly smile.

“Worth every ache,” he replied, taking himself in hand.

He slowly rubbed at your slit with the head of his cock. You moaned, your cunt clenching against thin air as you felt wetness dribble down. Ezra dragged his cockhead through the slick, gathering it before rubbing at your clit directly. You gasped at the jolt of pleasure lighting up your body—it felt so good you could cry. You could hardly stand the teasing anymore, wanting him inside you now more than ever.

“Ezra, please,” you begged.

At your urging, he lined himself up and slid inside you with one deliberate movement. The sensation of his thick cock filling you up, the almost-aching stretch of it—it was better than you ever imagined. He grabbed you by the hip again to pull you even closer as he began to thrust into you at a steady pace.

“Look at you,” Ezra said, his voice gravelly and low, “takin’ my cock like it was made for you. Shoulda known you’d feel this good, sweetheart.”

“Ezra,” you panted, “Ezra.”

You looked up at Ezra as he filled you completely—from his pupils blown wide and his lips slightly parted, to the broad expanse of his shoulders, to the torso adorned with freckles and scars, to—fuck, where his cock was seated deep in your cunt—he was more beautiful than any gemstone.

You could tell Ezra was trying to control the pace of his thrusts, biting his lip in concentration. You didn’t want him to hold back.

“Harder,” you breathed.

“I ain’t gonna last,” Ezra said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t care!” You cried out, clenching down on him.

“Fuck!” Ezra leaned forward and braced himself against the bed, arm trembling with the effort as he set a brutal pace, fucking into you hard and deep and unrelenting. You nearly screamed.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” Ezra’s voice was frantic and loud, “come for me, please, please, fuck!”

You rubbed your clit for hardly a moment before you shook apart, your cunt spasming around his cock, your body consumed in flames of pleasure so intense you could hardly breathe.

Ezra managed a few more thrusts before he came with a shout, his cock inside you as deep as it could go.

–

In the aftermath, Ezra collapsed beside you, absolutely exhausted. You turned your head to kiss him, lazy and slow.

“If it’s alright with you,” he said, his breath warm and close, “I’m inclined to take the day off tomorrow.”

“We’re sure going to be sore,” you sighed.

“Well, yes,” he agreed, “but I’m keen on more...sparrin’ practice.”

“You can say sex, you know,” you laughed, “not everything has to be a metaphor.”

Ezra smiled. “I do have an inclination to run my mouth, don’t I.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Ezra just rolled his eyes before taking your hand in his, your fingers twining together.

“I just realized,” you said, looking over at Ezra’s desk, “I could’ve sat on that chair instead of your face. Would’ve made things easier.”

Ezra’s eyes widened a fraction, looking over at the chair, then back to you.

“Why didn’t I think of that? I am dumber than a box of rocks,” he said with a chuckle. “But I do believe my method is superior.”

“We’ll have to test your theory,” you said. “Do some serious research.”

Ezra nodded eagerly before setting a steely expression with a furrowed brow. “Of course.”

--

content: phone sex (well, radio sex if you wanna get technical), cunnilingus, face-sitting, blowjob, vaginal sex

a/n: listen. all the scifi sex I write will conveniently make use of “the implant” purely so they can raw-dog it. also like where tf is ezra gonna go buy space condoms. this is set in the fringes of the galaxy. it’s not like he can pop over to space cvs and get some cosmic cock wrappers for his magnum dong. they don’t carry them at the shuttle station, okay?

and yes I DO go back and forth in my fics deciding whether “come” or “cum” is hotter/more grammatically correct/etc and this is a come fic, apologies to the cum crowd

special thanks to taylor (@damerondjarin​) for the exchange of messages that inspired this fic, and for all the moral support thereafter. believe it or not this entire fic was supposed to be JUST the face-sitting sex scene and uh it expanded from there. Oops.

[official-weasley]

Meant to Be (Charlie Weasley x OC)

What happens when Bill brings home a girl and Charlie is completely awestruck by her?

WARNINGS: Mentions of sex and alcohol.

CHAPTER 2

Charlie

“How come you are always the last one to leave?” I chuckled at Peter’s remark.

“I’m in no hurry, I still have to feed the Chinese Fireball and you know she’s stubborn.” I turned to him, brushing the hair off my face.

“I can do it, you know I’m staying here for the holidays and you’re…” He stepped closer and snatched the bag with food in front of me. “…going to miss your portkey.”

“Are you sure?” I narrowed my eyes at him, taking off my gloves.

“Charlie, when was the last time you saw your family?” He sighed.

“About six months ago.” I actually had to think about it.

“See!” He stretched out his hand, making me give my gloves to him. “The dragons will survive without you for a few days.” He winked at me.

Perhaps he was right. I don’t know how to take a day off. If it wasn’t for Peter and my team, I would be working all the time. They are the ones who stop me here and there and get me drunk.

“I still have to pack!” I remembered.

I woke up at 5 this morning and went to feed the dragons straight away, completely forgetting I am leaving for the Burrow afterward.

“Damn it, Charlie! You always do this to me.” Peter shook his head. “I’ll fire you.”

“What for?” I chortled. “For working too hard?”

“Yes!” He laughed. “You have 30 minutes before the portkey closes. You better go now!”

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t you miss your family?” He asked, concern on his face.

“Of course, I do!” I really did but I am not going to tell my boss how much. “Don’t you miss yours?”

“I do but I see them once per month, sometimes even twice. You don’t know how to take that much time off, remember?” He smirked at me.

“That’s right, keep rubbing it in my face.” I bumped his shoulder with my fist and waved at him, starting down the path towards my hut.

Did he say 30 minutes to pack and catch the portkey? He’s mental, that’s not enough time! I picked up the pace, my keys ready. I ran straight to my dresser when I entered my home and started throwing clothes on my bed.

A pair of jeans, a hat, scarf, two t-shirts. I think that’s enough for a 4-day stay! Oh, shit! I can’t go without one of mum’s jumpers. I stuck my head back in the dresser, my eyes tracking the burgundy jumper with a green dragon in it.

Where are you?

I would say that I have to reorganize my closet but I know I would never end up doing it anyway. I wear mostly the same clothes to work every day and the only time I try a bit harder to look presentable is when I go home. It’s a waste of time otherwise. Why spend the time picking an outfit when you can spend it with dragons?

There it is!

I knew I was probably going to get a new one as a Christmas present but I loved this one the most. Mum’s jumpers were the only thing I didn’t like about my job. I couldn’t wear them without completely ruining them, I loved them too much to do that so they were being untouched in my closet.

Now to get my toothbrush and that should be all. How much time I have left until my portkey closes and Peter kills me?

I leaned my head to check the clock on the kitchen wall. 10 minutes. I can make that if I run!

I was walking towards the front gate, still zipping my bag.

“Going home for the holidays, Charlie?”

Oh, no. Not now!

“Yes.” I turned around and forced a smile. “How about you, April?”

“Oh, I’m staying. Don’t really have anywhere to be.” If she is indicating that I should take her with me, she has got to be joking.

John was right, should’ve never slept with her.

“Well, a lot of our mates are staying, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” I didn’t want to be rude, but I am not bringing her home.

My mum would faint, me having a girlfriend after all these years and she really wasn’t a girl I imagined myself in a relationship with. She was too needy and wanted to be with me all the time.

First of all, I don’t have time for that and second of all, sex wasn’t that great either and we have nothing in common and…

“I just wanted to say goodbye.” She took a step toward me and I took one backward.

Please, don’t hug me!

“Bye!” I waved my hand, turned around, and ran for it.

The second I touch the portkey, I’m free!

I have to start being better at picking women. This one stalks my every move, the one before that still sends me letters and my friends are doing nothing but laughing in my face for it. Perhaps I should get better at picking friends too!

I finally reached the portkey and without turning around to see if April followed me, I touched the bottle and landed flat on my face in the forest near my family home. I dusted myself off and started towards the house.

I stopped walking about 20 meters from it. I just had to take it all in. I missed it. I missed my home, my parents, and all my siblings. I really hope Bill will be able to get time off and come too, I miss him the most even though I saw him 2 months ago when he came to visit me.

I knocked on the door and slowly opened it.

“Charlie!” Before I could put my bag down, Ginny’s hands were already around my waist. I hugged her back.

She grew so much and got stronger too.

“I missed you too, Gin.” I chuckled.

“You’re going to help me later.” She grinned and ran away before I could ask her what she needs help with.

“Charlie, dear. Welcome home!” My mum crushed me with her hug but I didn’t mind.

I might be 21 but I still loved to hug my mum as I did when I was a kid. Mum pulled away and started looking around behind me.

“I didn’t bring anyone with me, mum.” I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, Charles. Don’t tell me there aren’t any pretty girls in that Sanctuary of yours.” She scolded me.

“Mum, beauty isn’t everything. I want someone I can connect with.” She was the only one who got me to admit things like this out loud.

I know she only wants me to be happy but I’m still too young to think about settling down.

“What about that April girl. I was really hoping to meet her.” She sighed.

April? How did she know about April?

“How do you know about her?” I asked rather frightened.

I was afraid of her answer.

“She wrote to me a few months ago, telling me what a wonderful son I’ve raised. She seemed nice, did you break up with her already?” She narrowed her eyes, her hands on her hips.

She wrote to my mum?! She’s mental!

“We were never together we only slep…” I bit my tongue. My mum really didn’t have to know about my sex life. “You know what, it’s complicated.” I raised my hands in defeat.

That’s the sentence that usually keeps people from asking further questions, right?

Mum didn’t get a chance to say anything else as Fred and George came down the stairs.

“Hi, Charlie!” Fred said and ran past me and straight through the front door.

“Might want to duck!” George stopped next to me for a second before following his twin.

I quickly turned my head towards the stairs where a whistling sound was coming from. I ducked as fireworks started to go off all around the living room, kitchen, and hallway. If mum wasn’t shouting, storming past me to find the twins, I would be laughing right now.

“I see they still haven’t changed.” I said and sat next to Ron on the sofa.

“You’re lucky you were at Hogwarts with them in their early years.” Ron rolled his eyes. “They are driving mum mad. She sends them a Howler per week if not more.”

“Should I talk to them?” I chuckled.

I know I shouldn’t find this amusing but I couldn’t help it. They were the only ones of us kids that didn’t fear mum and I know a Howler is not going to stop them from wreaking havoc.

“I don’t think it’s going to help, mate. Nothing can help those two.” Ron gulped. “Nice to have you home, though.” He patted my shoulder.

Ron was always a bit awkward when it came to social interactions.

“How is school? You doing good?” I cleared my voice, pretending to be strict.

I never gave hard time to my younger siblings. It was always Bill’s job and I just helped the house from setting on fire. He was the one who kept track of the homework and even did some homeschooling when mum was too busy. I was the one who chased them around and made sure they didn’t hurt themselves.

“School’s fine, I guess.” Ron shrugged. “How’s Norbert?” He swallowed hard.

I know he thinks he can’t ask about the dragon we helped rescue in his first year. I miss Hagrid, I really do.

“Fine. Healthy and big.” I laughed. I rolled up the sleeve of my right arm and showed him a deep scar all across my forearm. “He did this.”

“Charles Weasley, what is that!” Mum seeing a new scar while being mad at the twins was a bad combination.

“Mum, it’s already healed. Don’t make a big deal out of it!” I quickly rolled my sleeve back down.

“You better tell me that this is the only new one you have!” She barked at me.

Where were Fred and George now so she could shout at them?

“Yes.” I lied.

Thank Merlin I don’t have to take off my shirt because I have a much bigger scar stretching all across my back and I know she would lose her head if she saw that one.

She eyed me suspiciously, not really believing my lie but she knew she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. The second I got the job in the Sanctuary she flipped out. She was hoping until the last minute that I would somehow change my mind even though all I could talk about were dragons since I can remember.

I’m pretty sure dragon was the first word that came out of my mouth. At first, I cared that she was so against it but after a while I let it go. I knew she would never understand.

Nobody ever did. Not even Bill and he is my best friend. He loves his job but he wasn’t obsessing over Curse Breaking until his fourth year at Hogwarts and even then he wasn’t so into it as I was about becoming a Dragonologist.

“So Charlie are you going to help me?” Ginny squeezed between me and Ron, making him almost fall off the sofa.

“What do you need help with, Gin?” I smiled at her.

I forgot how my siblings always occupied me. I am not going to deny it, it felt great.

“I need you to help me with my Transfiguration essay.” She said, staring at the notes in her hands.

“Transfiguration?” I blinked at her. “How am I supposed to help you with that?”

I sucked at Transfiguration. Charms, okay. Astronomy, maybe. Even Defence Against the Dark Arts. But Care of Magical Creatures was the only subject I was confident I could help with.

“Have you forgotten what I do for a living?” I poked her shoulder.

“I’m joking!” She laughed. She loved messing with me. “I need to write an essay about newly hatched dragons for Care of Magical Creatures and who better to ask.” She scrambled her notes across the coffee table and gave one of the papers to me.

“What do they eat, how they behave, when can they leave their mother, how dangerous they are and how to defend yourself if you encounter one.” I read out loud.

“Easy!” I exclaimed. “Do you have your quill and paper ready?”

I clapped my hands and she stood up, grinning. She came back only seconds later with her writing equipment and sat back down.

If Peter ever fires me for working too hard perhaps I can help Hagrid with Care of Magical Creatures.

I couldn’t believe how much fun I was having helping Ginny with her essay. Answering all those questions was a piece of cake for me and I could tell that Ginny was enjoying my company.

“Mum, need any help in the kitchen?” I asked when something started to smell good.

I missed her cooking. We had good food in the Sanctuary but nothing compares to home cooking.

“Don’t you worry about it, Charlie. You help Ginny with her homework, I will ask Ron and Percy to help.” She grinned at me, thankful for the offer.

I turned back to Ginny as she was just finishing the answer to the second question when I heard a pop outside. I looked at the family clock and watched the hand with Bill’s name move to Home. Before either Ginny or I could announce it to mum, the door opened and Bill stepped inside.

“Hi, everyone. I’m home!” He sang. He wasn’t alone though. I heard someone chuckling behind him. “I brought a guest, I hope that’s alright.” He said, turned more to mum than to us.

I could see he was nervous and a second later, I found out why.

He brought home a girl. Damn, she was beautiful. Perhaps I should reconsider my career choice. None of the girls in the Sanctuary looked like that. No offense to them.

I blinked twice to be sure I wasn’t overreacting. I have never seen someone as lovely as she was. She wasn’t the most beautiful girl in the world but there was something about her, something shining through that made her absolutely stunning.

I shook my head, what was I doing! She’s Bill’s girlfriend.

“Oh, my.” Mum whispered into her hand.

I could see her eyes sparkle as she slowly made her way towards Bill and his guest.

“Everybody this is Rhylee. Rhylee, this is my mum, my brother Charlie and my sister Ginny.” Bill pointed his finger at us on the sofa. “And that’s Ron and Percy.” He pointed at them at the kitchen table and they both waved with a knife, as they were cutting vegetables. “And I guess you’ll meet the twins later.” Bill’s eyes were searching for them.

“Where’s dad?” Bill asked, taking off his coat.

“He’s stuck at work but will be joining us soon.” Mum beamed, her eyes still on Rhylee.

She grabbed her hand and practically dragged her into the kitchen. Bill rolled his eyes and quickly followed them. I think he was afraid mum would bombard Rhylee with questions.

“She’s really pretty.” Ginny said, her eyes on Bill’s girlfriend. I couldn’t take my eyes off her either.

“Yeah.” I blurted out. I shook my head. “Ginny, come on. Focus on your homework.” I tapped my finger on Ginny’s parchment.

She snapped back and took her quill out of the ink bottle.

“On it.” She started scribbling again.

“The sooner you finish, the sooner we can play Quidditch.” I whispered to her.

She started writing faster and I giggled. That always got her. If you could bribe my sister with anything it was Quidditch.

My eyes quickly wandered back to the kitchen. To Rhylee. She was so interesting and I have never wanted to know more about anyone as I did about her right now. She seemed mysterious as if you would need a lot of time to figure her out.

“What was the spell again, Charlie?” Ginny’s voice made me look away for the third time.

I really need to stop staring at her or she will think Bill’s brother is a creep.

“Immobulus, Ginny.” I said, my voice distant. I was not having as much fun helping her anymore. I was more interested in Bill’s girl.

“What are you two up to?” Bill sat next to me on the sofa and peeked at what Ginny was writing. “Homework! Merlin, I’m glad I’m late.” He laughed and tapped my back.

“Congratulations, Bill.” I winked at him. “Mum seems to like her.” I nodded to the kitchen where Rhylee was talking to our mum.

She didn’t look uncomfortable at all even though I knew mum was asking her all sorts of questions that violated personal space.

“We’re not together.” Bill said quietly.

They’re not? What was he waiting for!

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Ginny closed her ink bottle.

Bill and I laughed.

Every time we talked about girls, Ginny got up and left. I know she was too young for these things and she was always uncomfortable talking about it even though Ron told me once in a letter that he finds it annoying how obsessed she is with Harry Potter.

“What about your essay?” I mocked her.

“I remember what you told me and I can finish it later.” She stuck her tongue at me. “Besides, mum needs me in the kitchen.”

That was a bold lie Ginerva and you know it!

She just wanted to properly meet Rhylee and ask her questions as mum did.

“What are you waiting for, Bill?” I turned to my brother now.

I couldn’t believe the girl he brought home wasn’t his girlfriend. What was he thinking?

“I don’t know, Charlie!” He sighed and melted into the sofa. “I feel so intimidated by her and we have been friends for 3 years and…”

“How many more excuses are you going to give me?” I raised my eyebrows at him.

He never had problems asking a girl out before. He wasn’t as big on one-night stands as I was but he wasn’t awkward with girls either. But even I have to admit that Rhylee did look a bit intimidating. However, I know that wouldn’t stop me. She was a mystery box waiting to be opened and I knew that if it was me I wouldn’t waste a minute.

“I know. I suck.” Bill pursed his lips and looked towards Rhylee. “I promise I’ll do it once we get back. No more excuses.”

“You swear?” I mocked him.

“Yes!” Bill rolled his eyes.

“What’s that thing Ginny does?” I scratched my head. “Something with fingers?”

“Pinky promise?” Bill laughed.

“Yes! Let’s do that!” I smirked.

“No way. I am not making a pinky promise with you!” Bill wanted to get up but I grabbed his hand and pushed him back down.

“Oh, yes you are!” I was having too much fun messing with him.

He might be two years older than me and might have a fang for an earring and might be dressed in leather and look all cool but I knew he was still a big loving teddy bear he has been before he decided to put dragonhide boots on his feet. I brought my pinky closer to his face and just as we were about to finalize the deal, Rhylee disturbed us.

“I think we haven’t been properly introduced yet.” She said, looking at me.

“Yeah, I guess so.” I cleared my throat and lowered my hand. I shook hers and Bill offered her to sit down next to him.

“You know, you two have a lot in common.” Bill said after a few seconds of awkward silence.

“How come?” I finally tore my eyes off hers and looked at my brother.

“Rhylee here is a Dragonologist like you.” He grinned.

I think my heart just skipped a beat. This was not happening. She wasn’t. She couldn’t be. This was so unfair! Bill gets this amazing girl and doesn’t even ask her out and I’m stuck with April who sends my mum letters without me knowing about it.

“I work at Gringotts.” She explained.

I gasped. Finally, someone who can tell me about the dragons that are guarding the vaults in the Bank!

“What breeds do you have down there?” I bit my tongue.

I suddenly remembered that I was not supposed to know that Gringotts had dragons.

It’s supposed to be a secret and Bill could lose his job by telling me that. Ministry wasn’t big on dragons and goblins would never admit that they have one of the most dangerous creatures so close to where people go. Bill let it slip one time I visited him in Egypt. He thought I would find it interesting, being obsessed with dragons and all.

“Oh, Charlie.” Bill laughed and Rhylee followed his lead.

If somebody asked me right now if she fancied my brother I don’t think I would be able to answer them.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone that you know.” She turned to me with the biggest grin on her face.

Was she excited to talk about dragons?

“How many dragons do you keep down there?” I tried to sound as casual as possible even though I wanted to burst from excitement.

“Two and we are getting a third one after the holidays. We have an Ukranian Ironbelly and an albino Swedish Short-Snout and we’re getting…”

“You have an albino dragon down there?!” My voice was a tad too loud.

I had to sit up straight to steady my breathing. I have never seen one and thought they were a myth. I only read about them and made it my life’s goal to see it one day and here she was, saying they have an albino Swedish Short-Snout as if she was talking about rabbits.

“Yeah.” Rhylee chuckled. “You should see him. He’s so beautiful. He was already grown up when I got the job but one of my co-workers has worked with him since he was 6 months old and I’m still jealous of that. Imagine a small albino Snouty!” Her voice got just as high as mine was before.

This was unreal. I couldn’t believe she loved dragons so much. I work with more than 20 Dragonologists but I always felt like I am more obsessed with the creatures than anyone else and here she was. She looked about my age so she couldn’t attend Hogwarts otherwise I would remember her. Heck, I would probably want to be her best friend!

“I wish! You have to smuggle me in one day. I would love to see him!” I leaned on my arms.

“Perhaps that can be arranged.” She laughed.

“What do his scales look like? Are his eyes red, because I read once that it’s a fifty-fifty chance that they have normal eyes and…” I looked at Bill, sitting between us.

I sat back up straight and cleared my throat. This wasn’t right.

I know the expression on Bill’s face and I don’t like it. Out of all my siblings, I was always closest to Bill. We were the first to go to school and he always looked after me there. He was my big brother and I owed so much to him.

He was my best friend and he knows everything about me. He was there for me when I broke up with my girlfriend the Summer after I graduated from Hogwarts and we stuck together when mum was going on and on what dangerous career paths we both chose.

I knew him better than anyone and the look on his face was saying that he felt left out and I couldn’t blame him. It was enough that he had to listen to me talk about dragons non-stop until he became a Curse Breaker and moved to Egypt and even after that I didn’t stop with my obsession. And now he was sitting between me and the girl he really liked and he had nothing to add to the conversation.

It was wrong and it wasn’t fair to him. He brought this girl here to introduce her to his family and then ask her out and I was ruining it for him. It didn’t matter that I was completely awestruck by her or that she was beautiful or that I would love to get to know her better.

Nobody was worth losing my brother over. I never want to see that expression on his face again. He shouldn’t feel like this. He already stalled asking this girl out and I wasn’t helping.

“You know what…” I sucked in a breath. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s talk about something else.” I forced a smile.

As much as I would love to talk about dragons with Rhylee, Bill was more important to me even though I could see she felt the same and was loving all the questions I was asking her.

“How did you two meet?” I turned to Bill.

I wanted nothing more than for him to start speaking, to feel included.

“We can talk about that later.” Bill smiled. I know he appreciated that I tried changing the topic. “You two clearly have a lot of questions for each other and I haven’t seen the twins yet so I will go upstairs and see what they are up to and you two talk.” He stood up.

“You sure?” I tried stopping him.

I know he wasn’t okay with this and neither was I.

“Pinky promise.” He laughed and walked away.

“Pinky promise? Really?” I turned to Rhylee, her eyebrows raised.

“Long story.” I shook my head and chuckled.

“So…” She pressed her lips together and poked my knee. She was so playful. “Do you want to know more about the dragons I work with or do you want to know how Bill and I met?”

“What do you think?” I smirked at her and made her laugh.

This was not good. I was completely mesmerized by her.

“To answer your previous two questions…” She sat closer to me. “His scales are completely white except the ones on his tail. Those are washed-up red. It’s really interesting and I tried searching for the reason behind the reddish color in several books but I couldn’t find anything.” She sighed.

“And about your questions about the eyes. I asked Simon, the one I said before that worked with the albino before I got there, he said that his eyes changed when he was about 1 year old. They are black now but apparently, they were red before and I so wish I could see that. He had to look even more beautiful!” She squeaked.

“So according to him, that would mean that they do have red eyes but lose the color with age?” I thought out loud.

“Seems like it. He’s the only albino I encountered. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more about it.” She sighed.

“Anyways, as I said before. We have the two and we’re getting a Norwegian Ridgeback after the holidays. I can’t even begin to explain to you how excited I am for that!” She clapped her hands together.

She was basically me in a female form.

“Do you name them? We do in the Sanctuary. One of my co-workers has a 5-year-old daughter and a few months ago our rescue team brought a new Common Welsh Green and we let her name him and she called him Bunny.” I laughed.

“Oh, that is so sweet!” Rhylee laughed too. “The albino is Dash and our Ukrainian Ironbelly is Kyan. They were named before I got there so I didn’t have a chance to pick.” She said sadly. “But my team did say that I can name the one we’re getting now.” Her face brightened up immediately.

She has her own team? I had so many questions for her that I would need to prolong my stay to get the answers to all of them.

“Did you pick out the name yet?” I asked.

Even though I wanted to know more about her team and how is she handling being in charge. I was recently appointed to lead a team and I wasn’t good at bossing people around. One question at the time, Charlie.

“I was thinking of Nyx. It’s similar to Nox since the dragon is black. I don’t know yet.” She shrugged her shoulders, but I knew she had it all figured out.

She reminded me of myself when I had more to say but stopped because I thought the other party wouldn’t be interested in what I have to say.

“I like it.” I encouraged her. “We have a Norwegian Ridgeback. His name is Norbert.”

“Oh, that’s cute.” She cupped her face. I could see she was debating whether she picked the right name or not. “Maybe you can help me pick a name.” She bumped into my shoulder. “You know, in case I change my mind.”

“Sure.” I replied and sat a bit away from her. I don’t want her to be too friendly with me. I was already having too much fun with her.

“I’m sorry. Am I talking too much about dragons?” She sighed.

She must’ve noticed me moving away.

“Oh, no. Not at all!” I reassured her.

“It’s just…” She sucked in a breath. I knew she wasn’t sure if she should say what she’s about to say and at this point, neither was I. “Nobody ever shows such enthusiasm about dragons as you just did. All those questions you asked me. It’s nice to talk to someone who shares your passion.” She explained.

“Tell me about it.” I took a deep breath.

We should not talk about how much we are enjoying this or how much fun we are having. Just talking to her felt like I was doing something illegal. She came here with Bill, remember?

“I have a team of six including me and it’s hard to see that it’s just a job to most of them, you know. They don’t care as much as I do. If it was on me, I would be there all the time and I would do so much more for them but they always laugh at me and tell me I’m too obsessed or that I’m a workaholic. They do what they need to do and then go home and it’s hard working with people like that. It’s hard to trust them. There is this girl,” she licked her lips, “Lizzie, she’s the only one I can trust. She cares about the dragons. The rest of them, I don’t know. Perhaps I’m overreacting.” Her eyes moved from the coffee table to mine.

They were so full of emotion, so full of passion for her job.

Why did Bill bring her here!

“You’re not.” I placed my hand on her shoulder but quickly pulled away.

What was I doing?

“I’m the same. There are more than 20 people in the Sanctuary and I can’t relate to any of them.” I frowned. “They love dragons and they do care about them but after a long working day, they don’t want to talk about work which is understandable but it can get quite lonely when I want to discuss several occurrences that happened during the day and they all tell me that I should shut up and drink my beer and that we can talk about it in the morning. They just don’t understand that there is so much more to the creatures than just breathing fire and feeding them.” I couldn’t believe I was telling her this.

I never talked about this to anyone. I loved my job and I loved Romania and I love all the friends I’ve made there but nobody understood me as Rhylee did and I met her an hour ago. It was crazy.

This was crazy! I can’t believe I was talking to this incredible girl that was as obsessed with dragons as I was and wanted to talk about nothing else and I had to hold myself back because I felt guilty because of Bill.

“I can’t believe someone actually understands me.” She said more to herself than to me.

I looked at her and we stared at each other for solid five seconds before she looked away, clearing her throat.

“So…” She swallowed. “Your mates tell you to shut up and drink your beer?” She chuckled.

“Yeah.” I joined her. “We usually grab a beer or two on Fridays or during the weekend. There isn’t much to do for fun so we get drunk.” I said, a little embarrassed.

I didn’t know her well enough to know if she was okay with that. Not that it matters what her opinion of me is. Soon, I’ll be her brother-in-law.

“At least you can get drunk.” She laughed. “I have nobody to do that with. All my co-workers are so serious and go straight home after work so the only one I can really talk or have any fun with is my roommate Lyla.”

“That’s just sad.” I teased her.

“Tell me about it.” She guffawed. “Why don’t you tell me about one of your adventures, mister I-have-friends-who-want-to-drink-with-me.” She winked at me.

I know it was harmless and I was reading too much into this but it only made me feel worse.

I didn’t know how she was around Bill but she was great with me. I felt so relaxed around her and felt as if I could tell her anything and she wouldn’t judge. She emitted this calming energy that was just pulling me toward her and I was losing it.

“Well, this one time me and my two co-workers Andrew and Theo got drunk. We were walking to our huts when Theo got an idea that we should fly on a dragon.” Rhylee put her hand on her lips, trying hard not to laugh. “We didn’t go to the ones that are still young and therefore less dangerous, we went to the most vicious one we have in the reserve!” I exclaimed. “The Chinese Fireball that was also guarding her newly hatched babies.”

“You’re insane!” Rhylee gasped, her eyes widened.

“We were giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls, Andrew still with a beer bottle in his hand. We thought we were being quiet.” I continued.

“And you were not.” Rhylee chuckled.

“Of course, not! We were probably louder than her roar.” I laughed. “We were walking towards her and laughing so much that we didn’t notice she woke up. She stood up and when Theo saw it instead of running he started laughing his arse off! The Fireball roared her lungs out and woke up the entire village, while we ran back to the huts and tried to hide the fact that it was us.”

“Did you get away with it?” Rhylee was completely invested in the story.

“Nah! Almost got fired. If Peter wasn’t such an understanding boss we would probably all be out of jobs right now.” I finished my story.

Rhylee couldn’t stop laughing. She had one of those rare laughs. You could tell she only laughs when something is really funny and would never fake it just for the sake of it.

I really didn’t like how much she was starting to grow on me. Thank Merlin I was rarely home and was in Romania almost the whole year-round. I will have to find a way to avoid her when she comes to visit with Bill for the holidays.

Rhylee bit her lip after she stopped laughing and we stared at each other again. Why was she doing this to me! It looked as if she was reading my expression. Trying to figure out what I was thinking. I hope she wasn’t a Legimens, that would be really bad for me and for Bill. As long as I keep it inside my head I am not doing anyone any harm.

“Can you tell me where the bathroom is?” She said after the awkward silence.

“Upstairs, first door to the right.” I was glad she was going away.

Not that I wanted her to leave. I could see why Bill liked her so much. I am completely screwed. I have never felt such a connection to any girl before. Not even with the girl I had the only serious relationship with. This is not how I imagined my holidays to go.

I wanted to spend some quality time with my siblings and my parents and then bury myself in my work again. I did not plan to hate myself for feeling what I feel.

Which, by the way, I have no idea what it is. I have never felt something like this before. It wasn’t butterflies. No, it was stronger than that. She filled my chest with excitement and my head with questions and not just about dragons.

I wanted to get to know her better. I wanted to talk to her about her life and what she likes and about her family. I wanted to take her out on a date and I haven’t felt that way with anyone since I left Hogwarts.

I don’t have time for a relationship. Perhaps that’s an excuse because I didn’t find the right person yet. I am pretty good at reading people and if I see that it wouldn’t lead to anything or would fall apart sooner or later I just leave.

Or take them to bed.

I know it’s not exactly nice if the other party expects more but a meaningless fling or a one-night stand here and there is what I have been about for 3 years now. Well, to be honest, the last one was with April, 7 months ago, and staring at my older brother’s future girlfriend’s ass while she goes to the bathroom really wasn’t helping.

“Did you scare her away already?” Bill’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I have to stop doing this. I have to stop thinking about her, staring at her and I definitely have to stop talking to her.

I don’t know how I will be able to do it for the next 4 days but I have to try. I love Bill. He’s my brother. I have to put myself aside and I have to think about him. I would never do anything to hurt him and the thoughts I was having would do just that if he knew about them.

I asked her about dragons, she asked me the same. We had a few laughs and now she should spend the rest of the holidays with Bill. I have 5 other siblings, somebody ought to keep me occupied and then hopefully I won’t have to see her until their wedding and to be honest I could probably avoid her there too.

It doesn’t matter how she made me feel. It doesn’t matter that I felt understood and that we have so much in common. It doesn’t matter that she laughed at my dumb story or that she made me feel as if I could tell her anything in this world.

It doesn’t matter that I find her beyond beautiful and charming and it definitely doesn’t matter that I felt something between us that I have never felt before in my entire life.

Bill.

Bill is what matters.

[astrandofgold]

take me as i am

chapter 6: fell in love in the only way i knew

Here it is, the latest chapter! It’s only been….forever? I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for so long because I wasn’t quite sure how to finish it off, but I finally figured it out. This one focuses on the sweet, with some minor suggestive content. The song I referenced is Q&A by Kishi Bashi, and I’m absolutely obsessed with it! Also, is it even a story about Higgs if there isn’t a part where he plays guitar? 😂

___________________________

A well-worn blanket, a pack of beers, and a guitar. That’s what was strapped onto Leo’s back. The guitar was awkward, but she’d be damned if she hadn’t carried worse cargo. And besides, Higgs had promised her, with a chuckle, that he’d play for her if she managed to carry it all the way to their destination, of which, was now within view of the two former porters. Out of the corner of her eye, Leo caught Higgs giving her a side glance, smirking. She rolled her eyes, flipped him off, and grinned, trekking forward.

Higgs had to hand it to Leo, the girl had some real grit. It was one of the many reasons why he was smitten with her. She reminded him of himself, and she carried that spark in her that he had misplaced long ago. Higgs mused to himself, thinking about how she was helping him find that spark again. Life had a funny way of placing into his hands the very thing he never dared to dream would come into his life. He could still see his daddy sneering down at him, telling him all the lies that shattered his young child’s heart. The scars still remained, littering his body like constellations. Each one formed the story of a boy wincing at the sound of a cracking belt, a boy covering his face with his arms as tears silently fell, a boy tending to burn marks in the cover of the night. A boy that grew up believing he was as ugly and worthless as his daddy was.

Despite that, Higgs was starting to come around on the concept that maybe he wasn’t as ugly of a person as he was led to believe. If it were true, then why the hell would Leo be with him? Maybe she was batshit crazy to be with him, the thought had crossed his mind more than a few times. But regardless, he was happy that she chose to stick with him. He remembered the night that he finally revealed his scars to Leo, she held him close, placing gentle kisses on each one, eyelashes glistening with fragments of tears. He didn’t know what she saw in him, but he definitely knew what he saw in her. As Leo coughed, Higgs was brought back to the present moment as he focused his attention and realized that Leo’s orange eyes were peering curiously into his own blues.

“What’re you thinking about, babe? You’ve been staring off like that ever since we passed the hot springs.” Higgs smiled gently in response, then chuckled. “I’m thinking about the fuckin’ food I’ve been carrying on my back for the last half hour. I’m starving!”

Leo scowled at him, teasingly smacking his toned upper arm.

“Dammit, Higgs, didn’t you eat right before we left? Where the hell do you store all that food?”

Higgs turned a mischievous eye to her as he patted her head, the height difference becoming strikingly apparent.

“Well, darlin’, you tell me where you think I store it all.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re freakishly tall.”

“And it’s not mine that you’re adorably short. I’m so glad we’ve had this conversation, but now I’m gonna eat something.”

“No, Higgs, just-just wait a second! Look, that’s the spot right there!”

Leo quickened her pace just a little, walking down the slight hill to a spot next to the riverbank. Small, white flowers grew in the lush grass, giving the area an aura of safety. This portion of the valley hadn’t seen timefall for quite some time, yet had a consistent supply of river water, which led to a unique ecosystem developing. Fauna had begun to return to the valley floor, birds chirped in the taller grass, and small deer ran in the woods where Homo Demens had once declared their base. Higgs still shuttered to think about his time there, as infrequent as it was. Surrounded by men who were just as delusional as he had been, who sought to bring about the same thing he had wanted. As he glanced over to the woods with the ghosts of his past, he let out a sigh of relief knowing that they hadn’t succeeded in their goals. He never would have been here with Leo, watching life return to the mountain base. It almost reflected his own healing, and he wryly smirked at the thought.

____________________

The sun was setting as Leo and Higgs reveled at their picnic spread, the worn Bridges blanket hosting a multitude of food items. Higgs couldn’t even begin to figure out where Leo had sourced it all from. She stood there, hands on hips, grinning at the selection. She was resourceful, and Higgs knew that the local preppers gave her gifts on occasion, but some of the stuff was unheard of. Chocolate? Fresh fruit? Those words alone would have caused Mules to come running from across the region to have a go at claiming it as their own. A wave of satisfaction and pride spread throughout Higgs as he thought about his partner’s success, and the fact that she chose to share it with him. He knew he was one lucky bastard.

The meal consisted of attempts at trying to throw bits of food in each other’s mouths, a few delectable favorites hand fed to the other followed by laughter, and one episode of Leo rolling her eyes when Higgs blew right through an entire loaf of fresh bread that she had procured all the way from the Timefall Farm. The light in the sky changed from yellow to orange, and now bathed the valley in soft shades of lavender as mist slowly filled the basin. Leo gasped as the flicker of a firefly appeared near them, low to the grass, but unmistakable in its glow. One after the other appeared, and soon, Leo and Higgs were surrounded by a field of light. Higgs unwrapped his arms from where he had been holding Leo as they watched the light show, and leaned over to grab the unforgotten guitar from the case. He knew Leo had been waiting for this moment with much patience. Her bright eyes, made even more orange by the fireflies, flickered with anticipation.

“Now don’t get your hopes up. It’s been a long time since I’ve played one of these things, and, well…you never know.” Higgs messed with the tuning, strumming until he seemed satisfied, a peaceful smile washing over his face. Leo, despite his protestations, had always thought Higgs attractive. But now, here in his element, surrounded by the glow of the evening and hair falling over his face, with his blue eyes shining, she thought he was absolutely beautiful.

Higgs broke the silence with a hesitant strum, getting the feel for the strings, forming a melody. It was a full, warm sound, and reverberated in Leo’s heart. Higgs looked up at her as he played, beaming.

“It’s somethin’ I heard on the network the other day. I think you were humming to it, and it kinda reminded me of you.”

He continued playing, and Leo laid on her back, folding her hands underneath her head as she listened. The stars twinkled in the sky, something she would never take for granted after a lifetime of chiralium-filled skies.

“You are the answer to my question

You are my accomplice in a crime…”

Leo sat up and looked over at Higgs, a smile breaking out on her face as she processed that Higgs was singing to her. He was absolutely beaming as he sang, the happiest she had ever seen him.

“You are my wing woman and did I mention

We were together in another life?”

Higgs wasn’t one to vocally voice his emotions, Leo knew that. He showed them through actions, through caring touches, hands on the small of her back, fingers gently moving strands of hair, lips whispering on skin in the dark of the night. Leo was surprised when she felt drops fall on her arms. She hadn’t realized she was crying. Higgs looked up at her, eyes earnestly exploring her own. He held her gaze as he sang the next line.

“…in that dream, you probably were my wife.”

With a final strum, the notes gave way to the quiet noise of the night. Crickets chirped, wind gently caressed the two bodies, and the nearby stream bubbled. Higgs set the guitar down next to him on the blanket, and Leo could see he had a hint of blush on his cheeks. Leaning over, slowly and softly, Higgs reached out and caressed Leo’s face. Thumb running over her cheek, over her lips. He wanted to take in every bit of her that he could. Blue eyes met golden eyes, each hungrily taking the other’s features in. Higgs moved in closer until his nose brushed against hers, lips a breath away. Leo closed the distance, softly kissing him, brushing her fingers against his neck, then running them into his hair. He gave a hum of pleasure at the motion, and broke the kiss, only to rest his forehead against hers.

“Leo, I-I love you…I know I don’t say it much, but I do. I really fuckin’ do. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, and…I don’t deserve you. I just don’t—“ Leo cut him off with a finger to his lips, eyes brimming with tears.

“Higgs, please….please listen to me. I want you to know that every morning, you’re the first thing I think about. When I open my eyes, you’re the only thing I want to see. At night, I want the feeling of you holding me to be what stays with me as I fall asleep.” Leo couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as she earnestly gazed into his eyes, and she gave a laugh amidst them. “I want to live a thousand lifetimes with you by my side, and….I never want anyone to take your place. Higgs Monaghan, I love you. I fucking love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You are my everything.”

The next moment found Higgs and Leo tangled in one another, clothing rapidly abandoned. Tender hands grasping to bring the other closer still, lips writing their own unique love stories on skin. Hands running through hair, hands running down hips, hands staking claim on bodies that willingly offered. Passionate prayers left Higgs’ lips and spread to the sky, prayers offered up at the alter of Leo’s body. Higgs was by no means religious, but at that moment, he found god in the form of the woman gasping his name from underneath him.

___________________________

Lying under the stars with nothing between them and the balmy night air, the two wrapped up in the blanket. Leo rested her head in the crook of Higgs’ shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, placing his chin on the top of her head. The night was peaceful, and Leo had never felt safer than she did in Higgs’ embrace. The rise and fall of his chest, rhythmic and soothing, quickly lulled her to sleep. As he lie there, drowsily watching the stars twinkle and absentmindedly rubbing Leo’s shoulder, he thought about how his life led him to this point. How this woman, making soft sighs as she slept, accepted him and loved him with an incredible fierceness, showing him a facet of life he had never known. In that moment, as night in the valley settled and he drifted off to sleep, Higgs knew that for the first time ever, he had a long life to look forward to.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 283: I'M MARY POPPINS Y’ALL

Previously on BnHA: Everyone was all, “Tomura what do you have?” and Tomura was all,” a quirk bullet!” and they were all, “NO!!” He then threw the bullet at Aizawa, who ironically actually did have a knife, and since no one bothered to say “no!!” this time he proceeded to CHOP OFF HIS OWN LEG. Just, schwoop. Lopped it right off. Didn’t even fucking care. Anyway so then Tomura was all, “you know what who even needs quirk bullets” and somehow broke free from both Deku and Ryuukyuu to go claw off Aizawa’s face. Thankfully Todoroki “I've spent the past eight chapters puttering around waiting for the coolest moment to strike” Shouto finally decided to join the fray by impaling Tomura, and everyone was all, “ahaha, classic Shouto”, and Tomura was all, “don’t worry though I’m fine”, and it seems like he really is now, since he’s finally regenerated and all his wounds have healed again! The chapter ended with Gigantomachia stampeding towards Jakku, which is super terrible, but what else is fucking new.

Today on BnHA: The Gunga kids spend a few pages standing around letting all that trauma soak in nice and deep as Machia rampages on towards Jakku. Back in the Shigaraki Wastes, the heroes regroup, which mostly consists of the remaining conscious adults tearfully being all “you kids get out of here... save yourselves...” and the kids being all “YOU JUST SIT THERE AND CHILL, DAD” and “[EXPLETIVES]” and “I’M YOUNG AND FILLED WITH RIGHTEOUS SHOUNEN RAGE”, all of which is very entertaining to me and makes me very proud. Anyway so then Tomura’s body sort of explodes a bit, and he’s all, “what”, and then it finally sinks in that he might have popped out of the toaster early, so he tries to end the fight right there and then with another round of Decay. Except that Deku counters it by SPONTANEOUSLY LEARNING HOW TO FLY, which is probably SO CONFUSING for all the non-Gran-and-Kacchan people around, which is just one of the many things I love about it. And the other things I love about it are that it’s (1) THE MOST BADASS THING EVER, and (2) just, really fucking great. So yeah. Rage, Deku, rage.

OH NO MY BABIES

don’t tell me. I’m not sure I want to know what it is they’re looking at. how many of the pros are fucking dead now ffffmg

also that is an extremely intriguing chapter title, though. 75? as in percent?? oh my god is something finally going to go fucking right for our heroes. or at least, you know, less wrong

OOOF

dammit Momo he was supposed to go to sleep! WHAT THE HELL WAS ALL OF THAT MATH FOR, THEN. did he grow bigger, or did she just somehow miscalculate the dosage, or is he finally going to go night-night halfway to Jakku?

btw Momo I’m not actually mad at you, you’re still the only one who fucking did anything at all. if anyone tries to give you shit, just look them in the eye and ask them “okay and how many things did YOU do?”, and they’ll be like, “oh shit, none”, and you’ll be all “yeah that’s what I fucking thought” because YEAH

OH MY GOD SERO ANGST

I have never seen Sero this badly shaken before. it’s somehow so shocking?? holy shit you guys, I know I’ve been saying for ages “lolo all these kids about to be traumatized af” but somehow it’s one thing to know it’s coming, and another to finally actually see it. oh god

anyway let’s just hope all of the grown-ups aren’t actually fucking dead. but based on all of the kids’ expressions, it really feels like a lot of them might be, and that’s just... ...

and they had to see it. right? is that what this is implying?? holy shit. they watched it all happen. that’s it, the rest of this arc is cancelled, please proceed directly to the emergency therapy arc right now

TOKO!!

holy shit look at the size of that rock that fell on the medical tent. and DS pulling people out of the wreckage. it really feels like everywhere you turn this arc, the intrepid young scamps of U.A.’s first year hero class are the ones out here keeping things one step from total disaster

oh shit

excuse the hell out of me young Momo but what the hell is up with this use of the word “dead” with the implied “like everyone else” hanging there at the end?? what is up with that. that’s a very bad sentence I don’t like that at ALL

and what the actual hell is this panel of FATGUM AND TAMAKI IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CARNAGE, TWO PEOPLE WHOSE NAMES I’M QUITE SURE ARE ON THIS CONTRACT OF “PEOPLE WHO AREN’T ALLOWED TO DIE” WHICH HORIKOSHI IMPLICITLY AGREED TO THE MOMENT I STARTED READING THE MANGA. BOY WHAT

JESUS MOTHER F. CHRIST

THAT’S. THAT’S, UH

OH THANK FUCK

I mean, I already knew they survived, though. so WHY AM I STILL SO FUCKING ANXIOUS. good grief

and in before Majestic fucking dies on the next page, having saved the children with his very last act. I fucking hate you Majestic, you blue-balling child-preserving magnificent wizard bastard

HE FRISBEED THEM TO SAFETY GAH

WHY COULDN’T YOU DO THAT TO MACHIA THOUGH. BUT AT LEAST HE SAVED THE BABIES. TOO BAD HE’S FUCKING DEAD hahaha sob sob sob

is anyone still alive?? did the guys who were fighting off Snoopy Sno-Cone and RD back at the mansion at least make it out in one piece??

(ETA: from here on out all of these guys shall be referred to as Schrodinger's Heroes until further notice.)

so now Mineta is questioning whether or not their Smart Momo Plan even fucking did anything, which. same, Mineta, honestly. but it must have!! right?? ????

anyway so here’s some more panels of everyone dying do you want to see them. sure. why not

can we get back to the Tomura fight now. I’ve had just about enough of this, I’d like to see some 75% business now before this turns into the most depressing chapter of all time

BOOOOOOO

goddammit. well for now my money’s on Machia collapsing just as they make it back to Jakku. so Momo’s plan does eventually work, but the League still makes it back to Tomura thus ensuring more shenanigans can take place. goddamn, lol, just when I thought the arc was nearing its climax. feels like it just fucking respawned with a full life bar

also Toga is really looking... not great. I’m so scared for whoever she ends up fighting after this. OCHAKO MY SWEET BABY GIRL PLEASE WATCH OUT

WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE

PLEASE ARREST HIM FASTER. holy fuck if you fucking screw this up and he gets rescued I SWEAR TO GOD

oh wait is he just here to provide more backstory on Gigantomachia

GO BURNIN’, YOU GOT THIS. also, gonna be honest, at this point I really would not mind if Machia did a little less living for Tomura and a bit more dying

FINALLY!!!

FKFKF Aizawa not looking too good oh god. and Deku looks like he’s about to spontaneously develop ALL OF HIS REMAINING QUIRKS JUST LIKE THAT ON THE SPOT, FUCK YOU TOMURA

oh my god DON’T GET DISTRACTED!!

Shouto’s arrival is either about to make Endeavor more useless than ever, or suddenly a whole lot LESS useless, and right now it’s up in the air and I am excited but also scared

EXCUSES EXCUSES

BLAH BLAH BLAH. “SORRY I’M LATE, I WAS SAVING PEOPLE’S LIVES,” Shouto lies through his teeth, clearly not aware that Tomura has a built in GPS and knows full well that Shouto was actually only a few feet behind Bakugou and Deku and so that explanation doesn’t fly at all. the real truth must be something so embarrassing that he’s ashamed to admit it. did you get lost. did you run into an NPC who wouldn’t let you pass until you had completed some sort of quest

THERE YOU ARE KACCHAN, I WAS WONDERING

just as enraged as Deku! it’s almost like he just witnessed his sensei chopping off his own leg and subsequently almost being murdered or something

(ETA: actually lol I think he’s mad at Deku, for taking off earlier and leaving him behind with Gran. though there’s no law that says he can’t be mad about two things at once! anyway so do you guys think that being beaten to the punch by Deku here may perhaps frustrate this young man and contribute to his decision to return the favor at some point later on in this battle, perhaps with dire consequences? hmm.)

anyway so if you all are keeping up with the math, and I think you are, it seems like just about every one of the adult pros is either down for the count (Aizawa, Gran), or recovering (Endeavor, Ryuukyuu??), or Might As Well Not Even Be There (a certain TWO OTHER PEOPLE WHO ARE STILL IN A TIME OUT AND HAD BETTER BE THINKING GOOD AND HARD ABOUT WHAT THEY’VE DONE. OR MORE PRECISELY, DID NOT DO OR EVEN ATTEMPT TO DO). anyway so all of that means that the only ones actually ready and raring to go here in Round 2 against the newly regenerated and POSSIBLY HAS HIS DECAY QUIRK BACK Shigaraki Tomura are... drum roll...!

okay but FUCK YOU GUYS though oh my god YOU’RE EVEN RUINING THE DRUM ROLL

DID YOU NOT EVEN NOTICE HIS LEG BEFORE?!?!? holy -- can I -- can I please just slap them, I --

anyway so RockLockRock looks like he has something to say here. probably going to tell Deku to take Aizawa and run, as if Deku isn’t the fucking glue holding this entire operation together at this point now that Aizawa is KOed. can you believe these guys are so incompetent they’ve actually got me arguing in favor of the child soldiers now, what even

...fuck

shit. that face. he’s ready to die to give them all a chance. he knows he wouldn’t last two seconds against Tomura and yet he’s willing to sacrifice it all. damn it RLR... okay fine your time out is done now, but I’m still calling your parents

unfortunately, you’ll never believe it, but Deku doesn’t seem all that inclined to listen to this man telling him to bail and save his own skin sob

ngl though I am living for the Enraged Vengeance Deku we’ve been seeing in these last couple chapters. maybe now everyone will stop dismissing him as just a soft boi who always eats his vegetables and doesn’t swear, and remember that in truth he’s actually a mildly unhinged feral child with an infinite pain tolerance and a god-given talent for never listening to any life-prolonging advice that adults give him ever

oop don’t tell me he’s gonna do the Decay thing again, shit

-- uh

“eh?” lmao what the fuck. my boy's torso just opened up like a fucking door hinge and all he can say is “eh.” this fucking manga

like he’s seriously just calmly standing there trying to assess what the heck has gone wrong

you really don’t feel pain do you. “haha lol what why is my arm falling off I thought I fucking ascended”

OH MY GOD

IT’S OCTOBER THIRD. looool the fuck

Tomura. my sweet little S+ ranked death machine with an A rank in knowledge. who’s spent the past 15-20 minutes battling to the death with the number one fucking hero and all his pals. who all just HAPPENED to be there all ready and waiting to fight him the instant he woke up. Tomura. buddy. did it really only just occur to you that maybe something went wrong somewhere along the line. that maybe things were not, in fact going according to keikaku. that maybe the heroes didn’t just sit around waiting for you to finish cooking in your villain bake oven. like please forgive my impudence but TOMURA ARE YOU STUPID, is what I’m saying, I guess. but gently

(ETA: SHIGARAKI TOMURA, WHOSE ARM IS CURRENTLY DANGLING BY A THREAD: “hold up lol what day is it.”)

I really like how Deku’s just crying nonstop this entire time though. but like, you know. crying with RAGE

lol and he’s figured it out as well, and I fucking love the connection his mind made, look at this

sudden feelings of solidarity. “WE’RE NOT SO DIFFERENT, YOU AND I” lmao

AHH MIRKO

how does she still have two legs?? Horikoshi I can’t believe you forgot how many legs your own favorite character has. but anyways yes this has been your friendly reminder that Mirko saved EVERYONE and should have a battleship named after her

okay NOW he’s doing the thing

good job Tomura you finally got them!! good thing none of them can fly, or Float. RIGHT, DEKU

AHAHAHAHAHA YESSSSS

YOU LOVE TO SEE IT. AND A BLACKWHIP/FLOAT COMBO, TOO! TOMURA, YOU WERE SAYING??

(ETA: he even grabbed Kacchan too. “I can fly by myself!” YOU SHUSH MISTER.)

(ETA 2: and what I also love about this is that we know the SIXQUIRKS are seemingly in tune with Deku’s emotions, so it honestly makes perfect sense that in the heat of the moment with Tomura threatening to kill all these people that he cares about, the quirk just basically acts on his instinct to save and doesn’t stop to ask questions. we’re saving everyone, no buts. and he even activates Float at long last, acting on that same instinct. honestly Kacchan had the exact right idea the whole time, all the way back in chapter 217. “it’ll activate when he’s in trouble, right?” exactly.)

NO GRAN STOP NO ONE ASKED FOR THESE FEELS

OH MY GOD

NEVER HAVE I STANNED THIS BOY SO HARD. HOT DAMN

he’s so fucking mad. omg??! omg

okay so I’m gonna try my best to explain why I love this so much lol. all right. so the thing is, it’s actually so rare for Deku to actually take the reins like this. even though he’s the main character, even though he’s All Might’s heir, his personality is such that he genuinely doesn’t mind being in the backseat and is perfectly content to share the spotlight with others, or even relinquish it completely. BnHA has had... how many arcs so far? hold up let me check

-- okay I just checked and it’s 18. so, 18 arcs. and out of all those arcs, Deku has had a solo fight in approximately... five of them. and two of those fights were against Bakugou and Todoroki, respectively, so he was still sharing the spotlight even then. aside from that, he’s fought Muscular, Gentle, and Overhaul (oh, and Shinsou, I guess). that’s it! and it’s been almost 300 chapters! and again, he’s the main character. in a shounen manga. like seriously though, that is wild

and so seeing him here like this on the last page, ready to throw hands with Tomura, presumably while using Blackwhip as some sort of physical barrier to coat his attacks and prevent Tomura from trying any more Decay shenanigans with him? dude. I FELT THAT HYPE. it’s just a really effective way of keeping me from getting Main Character Fatigue like I might get in most other shounen series. because Deku doesn’t get the spotlight all that often in comparison, it still feels fresh to me, especially now with him actually going up against the Big Bad. just, idk what else to say except “hell yeah” lol

anyway, so I don’t even know how long it’s gonna last, and I expect that Kacchan and Shouto aren’t going to be content to just sit back and let Deku have all the glory either (Kacchan in particular is probably frothing at the mouth already), so in all likelihood it’s probably going to be more of a 3-on-1 than a 1-on-1. and it’s also very likely to end with Tomura gaining the upper hand and trying to take OFA! and so in truth this is a very fleeting moment of triumph, and the most premature of celebrations! but even so... damn. and also I just love seeing shounen kids lose their damn minds and explode with angry determination. and I especially love seeing it with Deku, because I love the reminder that beneath that sweet, unassuming nerdy exterior lies a core of fucking steel. that look in his eyes, though. TOMURA ARE YOU SCARED. you should be a little scared, lmao

anyway. so that’s the chapter! and I’m really glad we ended on this note, not just because Deku is a badass, but also because like I was saying earlier, this was about as bad a situation as the good guys have ever been in, and I felt like the manga was starting to lose that feeling of hope that still needs to be there at its core even when things are at their darkest. idk, I feel like we needed this. Tomura got a chance to catch his breath in the last chapter, and now it’s the heroes’ turn. whew

[otomegema]

Title: Convergence Theory, ch. 3 summary: Transitional chapter GET. Aka, the one where reader meets Gojo's students a little more and I show off some of her powers and set up some future uh-- issues. That might effect the would-be couple. I'm just rolling with it. pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader rating: mature Ao3 Link (We are uh-- up to ch. 11 on Ao3 just fyi)

Weird did not even begin to describe the feeling that went through your chest and flipped in your stomach as you closed the door on your hotel room, bags in hand, and went downstairs to meet your new roommate in the lobby.

No.

New fiancé.

A fact Gojo was delighting in explaining to the hotel staff, animatedly conjuring from the depths of his mind some new bullshit on how you met. How he proposed. Some of the girls at the station were near puddles of envy. Others, happily told you how “lucky” you were as you handed off your keycard and checked out.

You had managed not to scowl the entire time, but just barely.

“You’re gonna have to send me a spreadsheet of all these lies just so I can keep up.” You muttered, swinging your bag into the open trunk of the car that had arrived to pick you both up. Oddly, the driver was not the same as the one from the other night. The man in question looked nervously in his rear view mirror, but also with an intense amount of curiosity.

“I already forgot um. Besides, not like we need one for the Gojo clan. They already know how we met.”

Gojo didn’t bother to get the door for you this time, sliding into the back seat without waiting for you to finish loading the car. You took your own spot, mirroring him in taking out your phone to check your latest messages. The driver would occasionally exchange looks with you in the mirror. You gave him a polite smile.

“Principal will wanna meet with you,” Gojo said abruptly, “I had my guys put in your rec already. Just let him know you want me as your mentor and when he brings me the request I’ll sign off.” Gojo didn’t even look up from his phone, “Old man will probably faint. I haven’t agreed to babysit anyone in—“

He paused, but only for a second.

“—Awhile!”

“Too busy?” You asked.

“Too much of a pain in the ass. And after, you can unpack your stuff at my place. I have a room on campus too, probably will spend the majority of my time there when I’m not on mission.”

“When we are not on mission.” You added with a smirk. Gojo sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. You enjoy this while it lasts, I’m already planning our next ‘date’ and you can bet before I’m done with planning the third one the family will demand a visit.” Gojo grinned, “When was the last time you’ve been?”

You groaned, the sound drawing a chuckle from Gojo. He knew damn well when the last time you were invited was.

“Do I get to plan any dates?”

He scoffed, “Why would you wanna?”

It was a fair point. You shrugged and turned to look out the window, admiring the view of trees and the greenery that surrounded Jujutsu Tech. Your days as a student were long over, but there was still so much protocol, so many hoops and tests and missions to jump through. If they had warned you being a sorcerer was like being a forever-student… maybe some of the others had it right. Ditching the school and the rules and wandering as independents. There was an allure to just throwing in the towel— but how would anything ever change if you just left?

You wondered if Gojo felt the same way, his personality not exactly meshing with the idea of a dutiful and obedient Jujutsu sorcerer. He was smiling lazily to himself as he typed on his phone and you found yourself content to just enjoy the silence.

The campus was not foreign to you and so you rebuffed Gojo’s offer to walk you in. Besides, if they came in together it might be too much of a tip off. There was no rule about the relation between a potential first-grade and their mentor, but given his tendency to rub the higher ups the wrong way, you didn’t want to risk any bumps. It was bad enough whoever that driver was had clearly heard you both talking. He seemed to be a staff member.

Passing through the halls though, you had the distinct feeling you were being watched— and definitely not by Gojo. If he was keeping tabs on you, you’d never know.

The cursed energy signatures were familiar, young and new, yet strong. You slid around a corner, barely flexing your Limitless to teleport around behind your spies, hiding out of sight.

“Wha— did we lose her?” The young boy with the pink hair gaped, rushing around the corner and then back, “I don’t see her!”

“Dummy, she probably heard you mouth breathing a mile away.” The girl muttered, slapping her fist into her hand with a disappointed grunt.

The other tall young man said nothing, his eyes drawn down into almost apathetic sleepiness.

“Why were we following her anyway?”

“Didnt you hear, Megumi? She is Gojo-sensei’s wife!”

“Fiancé, Yuji. Not wife.” The girl corrected.

“Fiancé, wife, girlfriend— whatever! Point is, how did we not know about her?! Who marries a guy like that anyway, she has to be crazy strong!!”

“She didn’t do so well on that last mission.” Megumi added, his voice flat. You winced slightly at his assessment. That was your cue. Shifting your energy, you appeared behind Megumi, forcing a tense, but still sufficiently bright smile unto your lips.

“That’s because my rat future-husband was busy showing off for his students!”

Megumi, to his credit, only stiffened. The other two openly shrieked at your arrival, the boy Yuji swiftly switching to an expression of awe.

“She moves like Gojo-sensei! I didn’t know she could do that!”

“Lots of people can do this… can’t believe he gets away with acting all high and mighty…” you grumbled.

You swore you heard a muffled sneeze from somewhere behind you, but your attention was suddenly wholly on Gojo’s two more animated students as they crowded into your space. Nobara Kugisaki— that was the girls name. And Itadori Yuji. The other boy you knew even before the mission was Megumi Fushiguro. Gojo’s longest running student and “ward” of a sort. Plus, he had affiliation with the Zenin. The Gojo clan liked to pretend it was as important, but even with the Six Eyes, there was no contest over which clan held the most power.

“Aren’t you a Gojo too? You have the Limitless right?” Yuji continued, smiling. This was Sukuna’s vessel? He seemed far too simple and far too sweet.

“Distantly. And yes.”

“That is so cool. You must be super strong.”

“I’m— I do okay.” You said, finding the praise a bit hard to accept. Sure in comparison to other third, fourth and even some of your fellow second-grade sorcerers you were notably talented— but how could anyone even judge such a thing when your true comparison was Gojo Satoru?

“When that curse hit ya? I thought— yikes. She is done for. But you barely had a mark on you!”

“Yeah, how did you dodge it? Oh! Can you do the thing?!” Nobara extended her hand, pressing her palm outward in what took you a minute to understand was a mimic of Gojo’s barrier technique.

You smiled faintly and lifted up your own hand. Nobara grinned as she tried to reach out and touch her fingertips to your own and she was stopped just short, hovering and wavering slightly in infinitely slowed movement.

“Neat.”

“I wanna try!” Yuji exclaimed and you happily demonstrated for the young man as well. Shockingly, you had to increase your output a little to repel him.

“I can’t have it up all the time, but it does help in a pinch.” You said and were surprised when Megumi finally spoke up.

“You make it sound like that somehow makes it less powerful.”

Had you? Your tone when talking about your abilities was always reserved. Cautious. You had no reason to gloat— no right to it. You masked your inner reflection behind a terse smile and offered your hand to Megumi.

“You wanna turn?”

The boy flushed.

“I’m… I’m good.”

“Are you going to be around campus today? Are you coming to our lesson?” Yuji asked, Nobara perking at the idea too.

“Maybe. I have to meet with the principal, but I’m sure I’ll see you all later.”

Satisfied with that, they wished you luck and departed, Nobara and Yuji falling again into animated conversation as Megumi steadily followed behind. It would be nice maybe to take part in a lesson or two… you hadn’t given the idea of teaching much thought, but just working with Gojo’s students you were starting to think you were getting the appeal of it.

Especially if you were one who loved to be adored, you thought with a scoff, wondering where Gojo had run off to if his students had been following you.

Dealing with principal Masamichi was a short affair. You accepted the recommendation news with humble gratitude and made your intention of being mentored by Gojo known. You were prepared to ignore the tension that seemed to permeate the atmosphere the moment you did so.

Masamichi simply stated he would let Yoshinobu know of the transfer. There would be no objections from Tokyo.

You could only imagine that your former principal would have something to say about all this— but he and the higher ups had done little to assist you in achieving first-grade status. Perhaps now they would realize they did not hold the keys to every door forward in their world.

Feeling strangely smug and self-satisfied, you left the office and set out to find the three students. It wasn’t difficult. Barely expanding your awareness of energy brought the familiar bright ray of Gojo into your mind. He was easy enough for you to find, you’d been doing it unwillingly all your life.

Near the outskirts of the woods that surrounded Jujutsu Tech you found Gojo shockingly studentless, sitting on the ground and playing what you could only imagine was an extremely high level of Candy Crush.

“Aren’t you suppose to be teaching?”

“I am! Kids are chasing a couple of third grade curses around the woods!”

“… and what are they learning?”

“Optimistically? How to dodge. Those things shoot out some kind of energy thing that definitely looks like it would sting.”

Gojo rapidly tapped across the screen, ending the level in record time before stashing his phone and leaning back on his palms. He tilted his head back at you with his usual smirk.

“You get your semi-grade one status?”

You nodded.

“Perfect!” He stood, brushing off his pants, “Now we can start your lesson! But first, I wanna see your baseline.”

He cracked his knuckles and then lazily stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“Hit me with your strongest technique.”

“…what, like right now? Now, now?” You shouldn’t have been surprised honestly, Gojo was a loose cannon in every sense of the word.

“Now, now, babe.”

You scowled, the furrowing of your brow only seeming to make him smile brighter.

“C’mon. You won’t get me and you know it. Just hit me with your best Limitless technique.”

“My best Limitless technique is non-combative.” You said wryly, wishing you had chosen to wear slacks that day instead of a skirt. Your own uniform was a modified version of the Jujutsu Tech one from your time spent as a sort of “adjunct” instructor. This was definitely not your practice outfit.

“Is it?” Gojo asked, humming thoughtfully. Was he being purposefully obtuse? Most likely, yes.

“Show me your best combative technique.”

You knew what he was getting at. Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue. It was, without utilizing reversals, the strongest technique a Limitless user could achieve— or at least Gojo had made it so. You could do it, sure, but you were not sure on how long you’d be standing upright after you did. All your previous attempts to master the technique usually ended in you taking a sudden and unplanned nap. At best, the output was a little weaker, but sometimes you could hold unto consciousness and only be tapped for the rest of the day.

“I’ll faint.” You said quietly and Gojo lifted his hand to cup his ear, grinning.

“What was that?”

You huffed, “I’ll faint.”

“I don’t think you will.”

“I’m sorry, is this your technique or mine?”

Gojo gave a small shrug, “Obviously mine. You're just a knock-off.”

“Ya know, I activated my Limitless abilities before you.”

“I mighta heard something like that once— Now hit me.” Gojo took a few steps back, crooking his finger at you, “Come on, come one. Don’t be so boring. I have to know what your capable of it you are going to come on missions with me.”

“This is a terrible idea.” You grumbled, but swung out your shoulders, breathing out slowly to mentally prepare yourself if anything.

“Maybe! But like I said, I gotta know just how weak you are.” Gojo said, mirth in his voice— and mocking.

“I’m not weak.” You snapped out before you could real in your tongue, feeling your neck flush.

“You just said you can’t even do the base technique of our ability without fainting.” Gojo gestured his hand out as he gave another little shrug, “Kinda seems super weak to me.”

“I’m not you.”

“Not with that attitude you aren’t."

Okay. Fine. He wanted you to hit him? You’d hit him. Your cursed energy had already flared up, irritation giving way to anger as you opened that channel within your memory and your emotions— focusing it until all that bitterness, all that rage was nothing more than a battery for you to use to fuel your own jujutsu.

You knew Gojo would be fine, but for a moment, you nearly faltered. Having someone ask you to basically collapse them apart with the cursed equivalent of a black hole? Not exactly a normal every day occurrence.

“C’mon! Stop thinking about hitting me and hit me! Unless you wanna renegotiate our deal… hell, maybe it would be easier for both of us if I just paid your rent instead. I don’t know how I’m gonna manage to get someone so pathetic to first-grade.”

You were going to kill him.

You were going to rip the eyes from his skull and spit them out at the dinner table of the main family, teeth and gums bloody.

“Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue.”

The cursed energy ripped not out from your body, but in. Focusing around Gojo as it manipulated space, dividing it down to the negative and seeking out to rend him apart. The area of effect was like a circle, but you pinpointed at his eyes regardless. Targeting what excess energy was left to his face.

The blast of blue sent clouds of dirt and grass into the air— or what was once dirt and grass. Having been nearly crushed into nothing, the debris shot around in fine powdered ash. When the air cleared, Gojo was standing where he had been before, entirely untouched.

Except for his blindfold.

One end had twisted, the fabric swirling up so tightly it was risen up against his forehead and revealing one bright, blue eye. It had gotten caught in part in the curling shrinking energy of the technique, but not enough to destroy it.

You let out a breath, stunned to find you were still standing.

“See?” Gojo said cheerfully, “Just a little motivation and you—“

The last thing you saw before everything went black was the ground suddenly rushing up to your face.

The low painful rumble of your stomach woke you, awareness of your body coming back in small waves. There was something soft tucked under your head… and your legs were elevated, knees curled around something.

You opened your eyes to the bright, unforgiving sky above and groaned loudly.

“Rise and shine, honeybun.”

His very voice made you wanna faint again just to get away from him.

“Really. Honey bun. Here, eat.”

A packaged sweet was tossed unto your stomach and you sat up enough to recognize the thing your legs were swung over was Gojo’s own lap. His phone was in one hand, the familiar blips and tones of a game audible. His other was rested on your knee, pressing down to help support your efforts to sit up.

He had taken off his jacket and put it behind your head, the white sleeves of his shirt beneath rolled up around his elbows. Judging by the absence of his blindfold and the return of his sunglasses, he hadn’t been able to save the item from your rending.

You flushed, attempting to pull your legs away and recognizing with a sharp sound that he could easily have seen up your skirt at that angle. Gojo’s hand tightened on your knee, keeping you in place.

“You should let your blood settle back before you try squirmin’ so much.”

If he had looked he did not make mention of it, focus fully on his game. Your stomach grumbled again and you tore open the honey bun packet and into the soft, sweet bread in short time.

“You really did faint.” Gojo said lowly, “Not the greatest. We’ll need to start with getting your cursed energy output higher. You can call on it in a pinch, sure, but it’d be better to have an ongoing source rather than relying on me teasing you into snapping off something halfway decent.”

“Ya know, anyone else and that move would have turned them into soup.” You said, not in the habit of defending yourself, but something about Gojo making the assessment set off your nerves. Why would he compare you to a level only he could achieve? It wasn’t fair.

“I know! I mean— it was good! Don’t get me wrong. Just not good. Blowing shit up is great and all but not if it blows you up with it. Leaves you vulnerable to reprisal if the curse isn’t alone.”

You shrugged, “I guess I just always figure if I take something out with that, if there is anything left the other sorcerers will get it.”

“… so it’s a sacrificial play, for you?”

You nodded. Gojo switched off his phone and shoved your legs off his lap, standing up. He didn’t offer you any help as you wobbled unto your own two feet.

“You got some serious hang ups.” Gojo said and you couldn’t very well argue.

He tugged his blindfold from his pocket, holding up the tattered piece of fabric for your inspection— as evidence. Your eyes widened. You didn’t realize until now the full extent of the damage, the way the cloth was shredded in the center as if a wild animal had tried to claw his eyes out. You had been so focused, so preoccupied… no wonder the damage wasn’t fully resembling of the true Lapse: Blue technique.

“Here. A souvenir.”

“… sorry.” You mumbled, reaching out to take it. Gojo quickly moved, pulling the blindfold from your reach at the last moment with a chuckle. You rolled your eyes and went to take it again only for him to repeat the same trick, earning a wary smile from you as you snatched at his hand and he allowed you to take it the third time.

“I never—“ Gojo began and stopped, humming to himself as he seemed to reconsider his words.

“What?”

“Well, I was just thinking I picked the best possible choice for this charade!” Gojo began, “It may really take you the whole year to fall for me.”

You smacked him with the torn piece of fabric, earning a startled “ow” from him and the satisfaction you must have caught him off guard to get through his barrier. You seemed to be able to do that a lot. Showed what he knew letting his powers wane around you.

“In the meanwhile, there is no time like the present! Let’s go!” Gojo reached out, grabbing your arm by the elbow before you could recoil away.

“Go—”

The forest disappeared, the world refocusing in the middle of Tokyo. The sounds of birds and wind replaced with the sound of tire treads on wet pavement and the faint, constant roar of the city scape.

“—where?”

Ah— yes.

To an abandoned apartment building.

That radiated cursed energy.

Of course.

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [2]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

➜ Words: 2.2k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

“In this recipe, we’re using baking soda instead of baking powder. Why? Does anyone remember the reason when we talked about our recipe of mille-feuille?”   You’re twirling your pen in your hand, bored out of your mind while someone answers that baking soda doesn’t have the acid that baking powder would normally add and how baking soda has much stronger leavening power than baking powder.   Theory has never been your area of expertise. You’ve always preferred to do the actual baking and go through trial and error than learning through the textbook. So with your mind wandering and from fear of falling asleep, you pull out your phone to text Seokjin. He’s been answering your texts slower these days.   “Alright, next class we’ll put our hands to work in the kitchen. Don’t pack up yet! I got some emails asking about the midterm so I just wanted to answer those questions here! Yes, it will be a collaborative exam and you can re-make anything that we’ve learned thus far in the semester. Baking is all about working together, so before I leave, I’ll post who everyone’s partners are. Come down and take a look before you go.”   With the lecture finished, you pack up your belongings, shoving it all into your bag and swinging the strap over your shoulder to walk down the steps. It’s crowded already, but as people filter out, you’re able to get ahead to look at the paper.   And as luck would have — you’re partnered with Jeon Jungkook.   It’s outrageous. As if having the same internship for three months wasn’t enough, now he’s your midterm partner.   You spin around to the teacher, beelining straight to him. But Jeon Jungkook beats you to it.   “Is there a possible way I can switch my partner?”   “I second that.” For once, you back him up. It’s probably the only thing you can agree on.   Jungkook looks to you before redirecting his attention back at the man who has his brow quirked. “Is there a legitimate reason?”   “Umm….”   “Our schedules don’t align,” Jungkook lies without batting a lash.   “Yeah.” You nod. “He has classes when I don’t and uh, he’s working on different projects when I have work….”   “It would be more convenient if we had different partners.”   “Wow, you two figured out you have incompatible schedules a minute into finding out you’re partners? Well, I’m sure you two can work something out.” Mr. Chu smiles, overly positive in a way that irks you. “Things have a way of working themselves out.”   In these circumstances, you’re not too sure about that.   Jungkook swallows hard, finding whatever excuse he can. “I’m afraid Y/N won’t pull her weight.”   “Excuse me?!” You can’t believe he blatantly threw you under the bus in front of your face. “That’s completely untrue! He won’t be able to pull his weight.”   “We’re just incompatible partners.” Jungkook outright ignores you. “I am happy to work with anyone, Mr. Chu. Just not her. Park Jimin said he would be fine to switch his partner and work with me.” He hitches a thumb over his shoulder to his timid friend standing near the door who realizes he’s being talked about and gives a polite wave.   Yet, the teacher gives a long sigh. “Look, you two. I know there’s bad blood between you both but wouldn’t this be a great opportunity to overcome that like the adults that you are?”   “I—”   “Mr. Chu—”   “I’m sorry, but there won’t be any switching.” He shakes his head. “Often times, you can’t choose who you work with in the real world. You just have to get over it and be professional. Learn a two or thing from that. That’s the point of this midterm. If there are concerns about the project, then you can visit my office hours. Otherwise, you’ll be working together and that’s final.”   It’s official. You hate your fine pastries class — and it used to be your favourite too.   “Fuck. Fuck,” he’s muttering, kicking the gravel from underneath his feet. You approach him with crossed arms.   “You don’t have to keep saying it.”   “What? That this fucking sucks?”   “Look, I don’t like you anymore than you like me. You don’t have to make it harder than it needs to be.”   “Oh yeah? You want to make it less hard? How about you stop existing then.”   “Okay, fuck you, Johnson. Stop pouting like you’re fucking four years old. Are we going to talk about the project or do you want to flunk?”   “Stop calling me Johnson.”   “Or else what?”   Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You’re so childish.”   “I’m the childish one?” you scoff in disbelief. “I’m not the one practically throwing a tantrum.”   “Whatever. But what’s there to talk about? We’ll make carrot cake.”   “What the hell?” You’re appalled. He’s not even going to ask you? “No, we’ll make the charlotte royale.”   “No, you idiot.” He pinches the bridge of his nose.   You scoff again. This was absolutely unbelievable. It’s a shame that no one’s listening into this conversation — there’s no way you would be able to retell just how absurd this was. “Did you just call me an idiot?”   “Yes, carrot’s the easiest. We’ll get it done and over with.”   “I don’t want to get it done and over with.” You point right at him. “Unlike you, I care about my grades, okay? So what if it’s easy? It won’t get us the marks we need.”   “Since when did you care about your grades?”   “Okay, fuck off, Jeon.”   Having enough of him, you decide to walk away but Jungkook soon calls out after you. “Are you going to give me your phone number?”   You’re horrified enough to spin around and regard him with a disgusted expression. “What? No!”   “For the project, you dumbass. You think I’m asking because I want to know?”   You roll your eyes to the back of your skull and close the distance with three strides again. Surprisingly, the both of you civilly exchange contact information without ripping each other’s heads off but you don’t want to be with him longer than you need to. “When are we going to meet up? We should decide so I don’t have to text you.”   “I’m fine with whenever.”   “Tomorrow then.”   “Sure.”   You leave already texting Jin your grievances. He doesn’t answer since he’s so busy, but you’re ready to unload.   //   The next day comes too quickly.   The first person you see in the morning is the last person you ever want to see — and Jungkook isn’t amused either. He regards you with a lazy gaze, dark circles, oversized black hoodie and jeans that he probably picked up off his floor and put on after giving a good sniff.   Other partners are already in the kitchen figuring out their recipes, but you have yet to decide what to make. You swear the asshat is just disagreeing with you to make it harder and more miserable.   “What don’t you understand? What you’re asking for is too unreasonable.”   “Really? You think whipping meringue by hand is too difficult? Maybe you shouldn’t be baking then, Jeon.”   “It’s time consuming,” he groans and rubs his temple. “And it’s not worth it. If you want to spend your time doing something impressive than we should make something like fucking I don’t know, Napoleon cake and call it a day.”   “Okay, sounds good to me.”   “What? Actually?”   “I don’t see why not. You can make the puff pastry while I make the custard. We assemble together.”   “You make it sound easier than it’ll be, but fine. We can meet up tonight. What, don’t give me that look. It’s not like you’re busy. And spending time with your boyfriend doesn’t constitute as being busy. The sooner we get this done, the sooner it’s over.”   “Fine. How about eight?”   “Seven thirty. See you then.”   You’re exasperated. He’s a jerk. And you go on your way while shaking your head.   8:21 am. Y/N: still cant believe my luck   5:43 pm. Seokjin: Hey where are you?  5:44 pm. Seokjin: We should meet

Jungkook lives his life precariously. He is flexible and follows his instincts. That’s not to say he’s irresponsible, reckless or that he’s fickle. He’s adaptable and it’s the reason why he started baking anyways — a whim that he fell in love with. 

  Jungkook prefers to go with his gut feeling than plan every step of the way. And it’s his gut feeling that tells him you’re nothing but an absolute headache.   “Let me suck on your muffin.”   Yoongi’s expression dies, washing over into an impassive state. “Say that again, Kim, and I’ll never bring my extra muffins again.” Taehyung whines on the couch while Jimin laughs. Yoongi looks over at Jungkook. “Hey, want one, Kook?”   He tosses him a blueberry muffin anyhow but Jungkook chucks it at Hoseok who catches it in both hands, almost missing. “Nah. What time is it? I gotta go.”   “Where are you going on a Friday night at seven?”   “Ooh, it’s a date, isn’t it?” Taehyung grins. “What kind of girl?”   “Who is it?” Hoseok clarifies the question, cheek full of muffin. “I haven’t heard you talk about anyone ever.”   “He wishes.” Jimin giggles, have an inkling of where it was he was going.   “it’s not a date, dumbass. I have a meeting with my midterm project partner.”   “Damn,” Yoongi comments, biting into the muffin he baked earlier in class. “That’s rough.”   “His partner’s Y/N,” Jimin says with a sparkle in his eye, watching Jungkook get up from the couch.   Taehyung’s eyes bulge. They nearly fall out of their sockets and he wheezes, pounding his chest as part of the muffin stuck in his gullet. “You’re partners with that psycho bitch?”   “Yeah.” The youngest of all of them sighs. “I couldn’t change.”   Jungkook walks past, but Yoongi stops him, plopping a hand on his shoulder. The usually cold man seems sympathetic for once and holds up his muffin. “Are you sure you don’t want one?”   He dreads it — having to ditch his friends on a Friday night and the warmth of his dorm room. All in exchange for the chilly wind outside and the empty kitchens that’re eerie without souls inside them, just metal bowls and silver appliances. But Jungkook drags himself there anyway.    He’s ten minutes early since he’s not one to leave people waiting.    But when seven thirty eventually rolls around, you’re nowhere in sight.   7:34 pm. Jungkook: Are you coming or not   He waits for an additional twenty minutes, sitting on the stool, playing games on his phone. Then he realizes the time and gets started anyhow. The puff pastry always takes longer to make anyways. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t frustrated — Jungkook’s frankly pissed off and if you decided to ditch him, you’ll have one or two things coming, that’s for sure.   Jungkook beats two ounces of butter with a tablespoon of sugar. Then he folds in two beaten eggs, one tablespoon vinegar, cold water, three tablespoons of vodka, and salt. He folds in the two and a half cups of flour and forms a dough in his hands until it’s soft and pliable.    Right when he wraps the bowl in plastic and slides it into the fridge to chill for an hour, the door to the kitchen opens.   “You’re late.”   You’re not even dressed in an apron nor is your hair tied back like it’s supposed to be but he doesn’t comment.   “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you? It’s been an hour and I’m done my part.”   Silence.   You don’t respond. Jungkook scoffs.   It was a new low for you to give him the silent treatment when you’re the late one. Your head is downcasted, facing away from him, giving him the cold shoulder. You don’t spare him one glance as you go over to the fridge, pulling out eggs, sugar, flour, milk, vanilla beans, and butter.   You pour milk into the saucepan haphazardly and it splashes everywhere on the counter.   “Hey, watch it!”    Jungkook rips the carton away from your hands. He didn’t know you were this much of an amateur.   He watches you in mortification as you move to the flour bag, scooping out a whole cup instead of six tablespoons. He wonders if you had a stroke. “Y/N, you’re supposed to do the eggs next. What the hell is wrong with—”   You burst into tears.    Jungkook’s heart stutters. He pales. He freezes in place. He feels his entire body go rigid.    And his brain breaks.   …..   What.   Tears. Full on tears are streaming down your face. You’re wailing, covering your face with your floured hands and crying into them. Your entire frame shakes as devastation wrecks through your entire body. He’s never seen you look so small before. He’s never seen you cry.   Jungkook puts milk down, swallowing hard. He watches you with eyes as big as saucers. “I...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”   You sob. “J-Jin brok..e up w-with m...e.”

[samanthadalton]

Perfect match

Someone asked for jealous Ina so here it is I guess, (takes place after that book store scene in chapter 5) 

Pairings: Ina x Bea 

tag list: @cloud9in @kulaykape @helpconfusedpersonhere @citybornchick @astrangeandunusualgirl @jenxespinoza @sakaily @domakir (added a few people who might appreciate the fic) 

word count: 1.4k 

“You’ll find someone better for you. Someone more suited.” 

As the words leave Ina’s mouth, Bea can feel anger bubbling up inside of her, her nostrils flaring as she lowers her hands to her side, fists balled up, knuckles turning white. Ina stiffly turns away from her, head hanging low with a mournful look on her face as if she’s lost everything. And maybe she has, her career aside, Bea is the only person who she has ever genuinely connected with, someone who keeps her on her toes and makes her so...happy. But Ina has to keep reminding herself that she’s doing this for Bea’s benefit, if anyone at Belvoire caught wind of their relationship it would have serious repercussions not only on herself but on Bea and Ina would never forgive herself if  she’s the reason Bea’s reputation at Belvoire becomes tainted. 

“You should go.” Ina doesn’t even bother looking up, her tone devastatingly monotone. 

“Fine. Whatever.” Bea can feel the weight of everything crashing down onto her but she keeps her face expression blank and walks out of the bookstore without a second glance. Once she’s out of the store, she presses her back against the wall, shoulders slumped and the tears freely fall. 

……

In the following weeks, Ina and Bea do their damned best to ignore each other, Ina switched up her office hours so that Bea would have to drop off the papers in Ina’s office rather than handing them over face to face. Anthro class was even more awkward because it became undeniably obvious that Ina was excluding Bea from the conversations in class. Bea became fed up with Ina’s childish antics, it was obvious that Ina still felt something for Bea because during anthro class, in her peripheral version, Bea can see Ina’s gaze lingering on her. Every time Ina gave Bea the cold shoulder treatment, she could swear she sees Ina wince a little when she sees Bea’s somber expression yet Ina would never attempt to make the first move. 

If it was anyone else, Bea would've cut the metaphorical cord and moved on, but with Ina it was different. With Ina it feels easy, she doesn’t need to try too hard to be someone she’s not, and Ina was one the very few people to see Bea for who she really is, that was evident the first time they met. Ina instantaneously knew Bea was not from New York the minute she spoke to her, Bea was like a breath of fresh air, her refreshing wit filled Ina with ardor, which was soon explored in a private room at the bar the same day. What Ina didn’t know is that the brunette would be the reason why she lies awake at night, yearning for her touch, her soft voice, and pretty much bring about the demise of her career. 

Bea knew she had to take matters into her own hands, and a plan began formulating after she had met a boy named Connor in her mass communication class who just happened to be in her anthropology class too. 

“I can’t believe I’ve never noticed you in Kingsley’s class before.” 

Connor gives Bea a warm grin while he sheepishly rubs his hand on his neck, “well I usually sit near the back of the class. I’ve seen you because you’re Professor Kingley’s TA right?” 

“Yeah.” Bea’s smile falters slightly as she recollects about Ina’s past behaviour for the last week. Connor seems like a very sweet guy and maybe toying with his heartstrings is malicious but she wants Ina to eat her own words, and prove that there’s no one more suitable for her than Ina herself.  

Next anthropology class, Bea enters with Connor on her arm, laughing along to whatever joke he made in a slightly exaggerated manner, enough for Ina to whip her head up from her desk to notice them together. Bea makes a show of cuddling close to Connor as class begins, completely fixating her attention to her newest boy toy. Ina frowns a little as jealousy begins to creep into her emotions, but like any good teacher, she pushes her feelings down, continuing on with the class. Every now and then her gaze would snap towards the two, but Ina can only compose herself for so long. Her self control completely snaps when she gapes at the brunette who begins to whisper into the boy’s ear. 

“Miss Hughes.” 

Bea completely encompassed in her endeavour to make Ina jealous doesn’t hear the professor until Ina obstreperously clears her throat, saying Bea’s name in an exasperated tone. 

“Miss Hughes!” 

Bea hums non committedly as her gaze snaps over to Ina, and a faint smirk appears on her face when she sees the envious look igniting in Ina’s eyes. 

“Maybe you can answer the question.” 

“Uhhh, what was the question.” 

“Give us an example of how sex is commodified in society.” 

Bea stares intensely as Ina, admiring the slight redness that’s dusted on her cheeks as she contemplates her answer, “the media.” 

“Care to elaborate?” 

“The media often objectify women, portraying them as sexual objects, or to push certain stereotypes which can be harmful to our society.” 

Ina hums at Bea’s answer, content. “Well done Miss Hughes, but I would suggest you focus less on the people sitting around you and focus your attention to the class.” Ina raises an eyebrow, which to the other students may seem like a warning but Bea can decipher the hidden message and she gives Ina a small wink, displaying she understands the message, she’s jealous. 

As class ends, Ina calls Bea back to talk about ‘grading some quizzes’ and Connor gives Bea a sweet kiss on her cheek and thanks Kinglsey for the lesson in which Ina retorts with a small smile which doesn’t reach her eyes. 

“So professor, what’s this about some quizzes.” Ina waits for the class to empty before speaking. 

“Bea.” 

“Yes?” Bea playfully bites her lip as she looks over to Ina who subtly darts her eyes down for a second to watch the motion, but her eyes snap back up when Bea lets out a small laugh. 

“What are you doing Bea? This isn't you.” 

Bea can feel the blood rushing to her ears and anger begins to flare up inside of her, “this isn’t me? And what do you know about me? You don’t even give me the time of day, not even as your TA. You’re that much of a coward that you changed your office hours so we don’t see each other anymore.” 

Guilt flashes on Ina’s face as she takes her glasses off, her brows furrowed as she solemnly looks over at Bea. “You’re right Bea. I’m sorry. I just can’t risk it.” 

“Risk what? Your career? Because I would never let anything happen to you.” 

Ina takes a step towards Bea, her eyes filled with affection, “I’m afraid if I spend too much time around you, my self control will shatter and I will not be able to control my” she swallows uneasily, “my feelings for you.” 

Bea looks over at Ina, hope in her eyes, “then stop holding yourself back, this is exactly what we both want. You say you want me to find someone more,” Bea lifts her hands in air quotes, “suited.” She takes an unprecedented step closer to Ina who clenches her jaw slightly, but doesn’t waver, “did you ever stop to think that maybe you’re exactly what I need? That we need each other?” Bea tentatively reaches out, her fingers trails down Ina’s arm and in that moment, Ina feels her self control completely demolishing as she cups Bea’s face and kisses her with everything inside of her. Her lips move against Bea’s and when her tongue slips into Bea’s mouth, Bea lets out a soft moan which only compels Ina to assert her dominance against Bea further. She shoves Bea against the desk and begins to kiss down her neck, sucking on the sensitive spot as she begins marking the brunette’s neck. 

“No more holding back.” Ina’s voice full of promise as she continues kissing Bea. She abruptly breaks the kiss as her hand moves to grip Bea’s chin, jerking her head up to make their eyes meet, her voice dripping with the most intensity, “you’re mine, don’t you ever forget that.” She swoops in kissing Bea passionately as Bea feels satisfied her plan worked.

[andyet-here-we-are]

Head Over Feet

Words: 4,057 Chapters: 1/1

Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion

A/N: Thanks @3tothe1 for checking my errors. You are the best, sweetheart.

Additional Tags: Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia,  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, but not that much angst etc so no worries, Fluff, Geralt writes a song for Jaskier, Geralt sings to Jaskier, mention of nightmares, Happy Ending

I hope you enjoy reading this, my dear Witchlings! 💛

(P.S: I highly recommend listening to Jonah Platt’s “Head Over Feet” cover since I was inspired by it, but shhh, we’re gonna pretend that Geralt wrote that song.)

***

“No, Jaskier. I won’t fucking sing. You better stop waiting for it.”

“But Geralt!” Jaskier whined, “You promised me!”

Yeah, right. The promise Jaskier wasn’t supposed to hear in the first place.

The promise Geralt was more than glad he had heard nevertheless.

“And now I’m saying that won’t happen.”

About two weeks ago, being the foolish, brave bard he was, Jaskier had tried to distract a Slezaerek so Geralt could kill it effortlessly. It had worked, but not without a cost, sadly.

Jaskier was hurt in the progress of doing that, and “Witchers don’t have feelings” his ass, Geralt was more than terrified that he was going to lose his little hummingbird for good this time.

“Just keep your eyes open, please,” the Witcher had almost begged as he tore a strip from his already ripped doublet and tied it cautiously around Jaskier’s wound to stop the bleeding.

“You need to keep your beautiful eyes open, understood? Jaskier? Do you understand?”

He wasn’t supposed to sleep. He shouldn’t. Because the thing with Sleazaeraks was, getting bitten by one meant there was no waking up ever again if you fell asleep.

Too bad the poison they had in them was enough to put a whale to sleep.

“And w-what’s in it for me?” was Jaskier’s answer, eyes already heavy with sleep. The antidote  the Witcher made him drink wasn’t near enough to what he needed, yet he still hoped that it would be enough to keep Jaskier awake for a while.

“Keep your damn eyes open,”  Geralt wanted to say.

And maybe the old Geralt, who rarely expressed his feelings to anyone unless those feelings had gotten something to do with anger, would say that.

But what left his mouth instead was: “I’ll sing a song for you if you hang on, if you don’t fall asleep. Just hang on till I get you to a healer.”

“Promise..?” The bard’s eyes had closed for a second before he revealed his baby blues to Geralt again, “you have to promise. It feels so tempting to sleep right now, my dear. You–”

“I promise. Hang on for me, little hummingbird. You always wanted to hear me sing, right? You have to hang on then.”

Thanks to all the gods in every religion -if they even really existed- Jaskier had managed to stay awake with Geralt’s help.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life!” Jaskier walked towards him with loud and determined steps, breaking the Witcher away from his thoughts.

“You have been waiting for only two weeks. Don’t be dramatic.”

“No, I’m not being dramatic, I’m being honest. You stop talking rubbish. I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life!” Jaskier insisted with a little, cute frown, making Geralt let out a small chuckle.

Yennefer rolled his eyes at the bard, “Ever the dramatic. Also, honest? Really? You are the most dishonest person if your songs are anything to go by.”  

“You. Lying. Snowman.” The dramatic bard in question ignored her, poking Geralt’s chest with his index finger between every word. “I knew it, I fucking knew you wouldn’t keep your promise! I should have just kept my eyes closed!”

“Don’t say that.” The Witcher said. “You…”

“You wouldn’t be here now if you did,” was unheard. But Jaskier understood anyway.

“At least I wouldn’t have to witness such a–  such a betrayal!”

Instead of saying something, Geralt looked at Yennefer, she gave him a knowing look in return -which Jaskier didn’t miss, of course-

“Wait a minute, you’re hiding something!”

“Yeah, his desire for killing you so you would finally stop nagging like a bitch,” Yennefer sighed tiredly, clearly feeling a bit annoyed by Jaskier’s antics.

“I’m not hiding something,” he lied.

He was definitely hiding something, but Jaskier didn’t need to know that.

Not yet.

“I hate my life sometimes,” the bard kept complaining, crossing his arms and finally accepting that he wasn’t going to hear Geralt singing today: “Anyway, I’m not cooking today, you are on your own.”

“And how is that supposed to be a threat? Jask, no offence, but even Ciri cooks better than you. We nearly had food poisoning the last time you tried to cook.”

“I’m sorry. What do you mean by even?” came Ciri’s voice.

Well, fuck. He probably shouldn’t have said that.

“Hey, I’m gonna go take a walk, wanna come?” Jaskier asked Ciri before Geralt could answer Ciri’s question.

“He is trying to save my ass even when he is mad at me,” Geralt thought, looking at the bard with such a loving look, but then the other man added:  “Betrayed people gotta stick together, you know,” and that loving look immediately turned into a “Disappointed But Not Surprised” look.

“Sure,” agreed Ciri, giving Geralt a meaningful look before she disappeared into the woods with Jaskier.

“Wow, you really have no idea how to talk a lady. Also, you better figure out how to complete that song before your bard gives you another tantrum and crush his lute over your head or something,” said Yennefer

“Helpful as always, Yen.”

He couldn’t deny that she was right, though.

***

After spending six more nights to complete his song, Geralt was finally ready to fulfill his promise finally.

It was certainly going to be a big surprise for Jaskier since Geralt had made it clear that he wouldn’t sing. And just three days ago, Jaskier had apologized to him.

“I’m sorry that I kinda overreacted before,” he had said. “Okay, not kinda. But I just… I’ve always wondered what your singing voice sounds like, so when you said you weren’t going to sing, I felt disappointed. Anyway, I wrote a new song, you wanna hear?”

So, yeah. He was gonna be so surprised.

And oh God, he had no idea how Jaskier could do it before so many people. “Having the voice of an angel probably helps,”  his mind suggested not-so-helpfully.

He had an audience of three people, three people that mean the world to him, and he was already stressed as hell. He would rather sing to an Ethereal instead.

The Witcher didn’t even know how to do this. How should he start? By saying “I’ve written a song for you,” or by singing out of the blue? Should he stand while singing? Or is it a better idea to just sit?

And for God’s sake, where should he put his damn hands?

Would it be weird if he just kept his hands at his sides? Would that make him look like a puppet in a box or something?

For a moment, he wished he knew how to play the lute. So he could just sit down and play it, not having to think about his hands. He should have let Jaskier teach him when he offered it months ago. Well, there was no point thinking about that now.

“Okay, Geralt, give yourself a minute. You can do this,” he assured himself and took a deep breath. “Just remember why you’re doing this, and just do whatever feels natural. Say something romantic before you start, maybe.”

When he took a look at Jaskier, who was sitting by the fire across from him with Ciri and talking to her excitedly about something, he knew that he shouldn’t be worried about any of these things. And he shouldn’t worry about forgetting the words, even though he felt like he would forget and make a fool of himself.

“Jaskier!” He called as Ciri stood up to go to Yennefer’s side. “Are you planning to shut your mouth at least for a couple of minutes anytime soon?”

“So much for making a romantic remark before you start singing. Well done Geralt, way to go,” a voice inside his head scolded him as Jaskier said something he failed to catch. It wasn’t his fault that it was what felt natural. Being romantic wasn’t his strong suit, but he was trying to improve.

“Okay, so. It won’t be the best song you’ve ever heard, but it’s the best I can do. If any of you laugh at me while I’m singing, I’ll kick your sorry asses.”

“Wait, wha–”

He took a deep breath once again and started singing, keeping his eyes on Jaskier as he gaped with wide-open eyes.

“I had no choice but to hear you

You stated your case time and again

I thought about it

 You treat me like I’m a damn prince

I’m not used to liking that

You ask how my day was”

He heard Ciri letting out a little chuckle at the “damn prince,” part, and he gave her a warning look before turning his gaze on Jaskier again, standing up.

There was no lie in it, Jaskier did treat him like he was a prince. He treated the Witcher like he wasn’t someone people were afraid of, but someone good and royal. Someone who deserved to be respected. Someone who deserved all the compliments in the whole world, not ugly slurs.

Someone who deserved to be loved.

 “You’ve already won me over in spite of me

And don’t be alarmed if I fall head over feet

Don’t be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn’t help it

It’s all your fault,” he sang, pointing at the bard while singing “it’s all your fault.”

 Geralt nodded at him like saying “yes, I mean you, you silly bard,” when Jaskier briefly looked around as if he wasn’t sure Geralt was singing to him.

Of course, he meant him.

Because it sure was his fault.

It was Jaskier’s fault that his smile was more bright and dazzling than the afternoon sun, warming Geralt inside every time.

It was his fault that he had the biggest heart of gold Geralt had ever encountered, filled with so much love.

His fault that he had a voice that would make angels weep with jealousy. His fault that he was just so… Jaskier.

“Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole

You’re so much braver than I gave you credit for

That’s not lip service”

He found his hands moving naturally against his will as he sang. Guess he was worried for nothing.

“You’ve already won me over in spite of me

And don’t be alarmed if I fall head over feet

Don’t be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn’t help it

It’s all your fault”

 He sang the chorus once again, walking towards the man who he was able to render speechless for once, for a good reason hopefully this time. Speechless, and surprised as hell.

When he was finally in front of Jaskier, he reached his hands out tentatively towards him, hoping that the bard would just take the hint and hold them. Sadly, he didn’t. So Geralt just bent over and grabbed his hands, pulling him up from the log he was sitting on. Then, with a barely audible sigh, he closed his eyes, not sure if he could sing that part while looking at Jaskier.

He kept singing after swallowing thickly to find his voice again, not letting go of the bard’s dainty hands:

“You are the bearer of unconditional things

You held your breath and the door for me

Thanks for your patience

 You’re the best friend that I’ve ever had

Let’s be boyfriends

What are we waiting for?

What took me so long?”

 “Did he just ask him to be his boyfriend?” Geralt heard Ciri gasp quietly.

“Fucking finally,“ he was sure that Yennefer was rolling his eyes right now, “they were already acting like boyfriends anyway. Well, or more like an old married couple.”

Wait, were they?

Deep down, he knew that Jaskier had feelings for him, too. But still, he couldn’t help but think “What if I’m wrong?”

What if he was opening his heart only to get it broken?

No, no way.

He was being ridiculous.

Jaskier loved him, too. There was no way that would happen.

He knew that he did. Maybe Geralt was just too stubborn to see it at first, maybe it got him decades to accept that someone could truly love him, yeah, but he finally did accept it.

They loved each other.

And it was only Geralt’s fault that he kept pushing Jaskier away from himself for so long.

It was only when he finally was succeeded, he regretted it.

He regretted it deeply.

He was aware of everything after having to spend half of the year Jaskierless - yes, it was a real word to him, more real than any word, even, it meant “suffering” “pain” and “sadness” in his dictionary - he was aware of his love for him.

If anything, it was Jaskier who should have been afraid.

Afraid of getting hurt by him again, afraid of being vulnerable again.

Because he had already laid his heart bare to the Witcher before, yet Geralt had broken his heart so badly.

But Jaskier had given him another chance anyway, and Geralt had promised himself to do his best not to make him regret it.

The white-haired man had said goodbye to The Old Geralt right when he got that chance.

“Goodbye,” he had told him, “no longer hiding behind excuses, no longer always avoiding to express yourself. Maybe it will be difficult to say goodbye to you, I know. And you will appear again in front of people I don’t know, as it should be, but I have to say goodbye to you. ‘Cause if I go on like this, I will only cause harm to my loved ones, thinking that I am protecting them.”

Perhaps it seemed like there was no radical change at all since one couldn’t suddenly say goodbye to the person he had been for years. Old habits die hard, after all.

But changing was the important thing, no matter how slow.

Back in the day, Geralt would pretend he didn’t care or like it whenever Jaskier composed a new song. But the new Geralt would make little comments on his songs instead of acting like he wasn’t even listening.

And even just saying “That’s a nice song,” or “I don’t hate it,” with the tiniest smile was enough to make Jaskier happy. It was enough to make him realize that things weren’t the same anymore.

The new Geralt showed it when he was concerned for the bard, and he paid attention to Jaskier’s feelings, to his warnings, to him.

He tried his best to make it up for his every mistake.

He tried his best to be the friend Jaskier deserved since the very beginning.

It wasn’t just a one-sided deal, though. Because Jaskier had his own regrets as well, and he knew that neither he nor Geralt was flawless.

There were moments Geralt would get mad about something that had happened; moments that required him to be alone for a while.

While old Jaskier would try to lighten the mood with jokes and would force him to say something, new Jaskier wouldn’t do that.

He would just say: “I’m here if you wanna talk,” and when Geralt was back, he would do his best to make him feel better. He would get him in the bath if Geralt wanted him to, washing him with such care. Then he would make him a nice cup of tea before insisting that he needed to take a nap.

Not once would he open his mouth to say anything about whatever had upset Geralt unless the white-haired man said something about it first.

One of these days, Geralt had asked the bard while he was washing the Witcher silently: “Do you remember when I said that I needed no one..?”

With that question, the gentle hands that massaging his scalp had come to a halt.

“You know what they say,” Jaskier had replied bitterly, the tone of hurt in his voice making Geralt ache “one has to forget first to remember.”

“I was wrong,” Geralt had admitted with a mumble after a moment of heavy silence, turning to his right a bit and reaching over to hug the bard’s legs. “I was so wrong.”

“I need you,” he had thought, his hair dampening the other man’s trousers, “I need you in my life, Jaskier. I can’t say it out loud, but please hear my silent words. Find them in my actions, find them in my touch.”

As if reading his mind, Jaskier had moved one hand to Geralt’s bare shoulder and caressed the skin there gently and slowly before saying: “You have me, Geralt. And I’ll be in your life as long as you want me to be. As long as you act like it.”

Things had changed again after that. In a good way.

They had become more touchy with each other. Jaskier was already a touchy person, but Geralt couldn’t say the same for himself.

Normally.

After their little conversation, Geralt was feeling more comfortable with showing his affection with little things, like ruffling Jaskier’s silky hair when he would pout, annoyed at Geralt for something. Or when he would do something impressive.

Little things like calling him “little hummingbird”  instead of just “bard” because Jaskier reminded him of one.

Just like a hummingbird, he was unique and beautiful in every aspect, and it was hard to catch up with him since he was constantly in motion. Also, he usually talked non-stop and when he would stop singing or talking, he would start humming this time. And eh, let’s not forget about his colourful outfits that suited him so well.

So, Geralt called him “hummingbird”, and he could swear that Jaskier’s eyes shined with happiness whenever he called him that.

Maybe he could finally call him “my little hummingbird” pretty soon.

“I’ve never felt this healthy before

I’ve never wanted something rational

I am aware now

I am aware now

 You’ve already won me over in spite of me

And don’t be alarmed if I fall head over feet

Don’t be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn’t help it

It’s all your fault”

 And he was done.

Yet, even after he finished singing, he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes.

When Jaskier pulled his hands away, he felt his heart clench in his chest. He cursed himself in his head, feeling too anxious to even breathe. Did he fuck everything up? Just like that? Did he just misread everything like a goddamn fool?

What was gonna-

Before he could ask himself any further questions, he felt a feather-light touch on his cheeks.

He opened his eyes only to find Jaskier’s stunning blue eyes shining with tears, looking at him like Geralt had just caught the moon for him.  

Geralt waited for him to say something.

Anything.

“Was my singing so terrible it made you cry?” He asked when Jaskier said nothing in a full minute. The bard’s face was so close to his that he could count the drops that were nestled on his long eyelashes.

The white-haired man wiped his tears away with his thumb gently as he leaned in to press their foreheads together. “Or you didn’t like the song? I believe it was much better than The Fishmonger’s Daughter.”

He knew that Jaskier would say something if he made a comment on one of his songs. This was a trick he had learned a long time ago.

“Excuse me,” here it came, “but The Fishmonger’s Daughter is a great song.”

“No, it isn’t. You just sing ‘ba ba,’ and ‘ta-da-da’ for half of the song. Even four years old can do that.”

“And people love it. They love to sing along and it’s catchy, also it has a story in it like every one of my songs,” Jaskier claimed with a weak voice and swallowed as Geralt ran his fingertips lightly along the side of his neck. He sounded like he could break at any moment as he whispered after wrapping one hand around the Witcher’s waist: “Now will you just shut me up with a kiss or should I just keep–”

And who was he to deny Jaskier of something he wanted as well..?

So Geralt shut him up with pressing his lips against his soft lips, kissing him gently but passionately. At first, Jaskier just held him close instead of kissing him back, but then his eyes closed and he returned his kiss with equal fervour.

He could hear the distant cheering of Ciri and Yennefer as they kissed for God knows how long. It was strange how a couple of minutes had felt endless, but also too short at the same time.

“Hey,” Jaskier swallowed again when Geralt pulled back a little and broke the kiss so they could take a breath, “I’ve never heard this song before. Where did you…”

“Because it was written for you, you silly, beautiful dandelion,” answered the Witcher. “By me.”

A beat.

And with that, a loud sob broke free from Jaskier’s throat, tears falling freely over his beautiful face as the sound of footsteps going off into the distance was heard.

“I’m so afraid that this is all happening in my head,” he whispered, burying his head on Geralt’s shoulder, his frame shaking slightly. “I’m fucking terrified that this is nothing but a vivid dream. I’ve waited for so long, Geralt. Countless times I’ve dreamed about hearing you say that you wanted me, too. Not just as a friend, but more. And now, I–” Jaskier took a shaky breath, “Could we just…”

Geralt hugged him, rubbing small soothing circles on his back, not needing Jaskier to complete his sentence.

He knew what he meant anyway.

Because Jaskier wasn’t the only one who felt like this.

There were nights Geralt would still wake up in cold sweat, finding it hard to believe that Jaskier was in the same room with him for real.

More often than not, the bard wouldn’t realize that Geralt had woken up since he was a heavy sleeper who wouldn’t notice if an earthquake happened. So, the white-haired man would just watch him sleep until he could convince himself that he was real.

An impulse to brush his fingers through Jaskier’s silky hair would come up every time without any exceptions.

Sometimes he would almost reach out to him, but then he would instantly retrieve his hand, afraid of waking him up even though he knew that he probably wouldn’t.

But sometimes, he couldn’t resist that impulse and would brush his fingers through Jaskier’s hair oh so carefully. And then stroke against the softness of his cheek before pulling the thick comforter over him, smiling because: “this is real.”

In that rare moments when Jaskier would wake up to see Geralt awake, trying to calm himself, he would ask him what was wrong. And the look Geralt would give him would always be enough for him to understand that what his nightmares were about.

The bard would pull him into his arms then, singing softly, lovingly in his ear.

“Can you just…”

Geralt would start after Jaskier would stop singing eventually, but he could never finish his question.

He could never ask: “Can you just keep holding me for a little while longer?”

But he didn’t need to.

“Sure,” Jaskier would keep holding him as Geralt would close his eyes, listening to the relaxing heartbeats of the bard.

“I’m here, you adorable, big snowman,” he would whisper afterwards. “I’m here.”

So, no.

Geralt definitely didn’t need him to complete his sentence.

“Yeah,” he nodded, pulling him even closer to himself, not even able to tolerate being two-inch apart from him, “we can stay like this, Jaskier.”

“Don’t let go,” Jaskier begged after a while, “Please, don’t let go.”

Just like he did when his screams would break the silence of the night sometimes, alarming all of the Witcher’s senses with concern.

Just like when Geralt would hold him loosely to calm him down, telling him to just follow his breathing and to breathe with him, nice and slow as he would take Jaskier’s hand and place it on his own broad chest.

“Never.” He assured him sweetly, breathing in Jaskier’s heavenly scent and placing a little kiss on his shoulder “Never again, my little hummingbird.”

Seriously…

What took him so long..?

[eleanorbloom]

When You’re Ready Ch. 17

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 6.6k  (Am I sorry? Absolutely not.)

Warnings: Angst and cussing.

Taglist @utterlyinevitable​ @binny1985​ @shanzay44​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @laiba-the-person​ @starrystarrytrouble​ @lahellacute​ @lucy-268​  @cinnamonspongecake​ @romewritingshop​ @bratzlahela​ @mrs-raleighcarrera​​   @mercury84choices​  @curiousconch​

Chapter 17: Truly, Madly, Deeply.

I'll love you more with every breath Truly, madly, deeply do I will be strong I will be faithful 'Cause I'm counting on A new beginning A reason for living A deeper meaning, yeah

 “I’m an asshole.”

Aurora stared at Bryce leaning against the wall with his face buried in his forearm and his shoulders slumped. Defeated. Ashamed. Mortified.

“Bryce, if I told you this is not to make you feel worse than you already feel, it’s because you had understandable reasons to be mad. This whole situation between Eleanor and Ethan is… complicated and adding the information Elijah gave it to you only made things worse.”

Bryce stood straight and faced his friend, his eyes glistening.

“Understandable reasons. Thinking that Eleanor slept with Ramsey and she would dump me it’s an understandable reason to ignore her even if she had never given me any reasons to distrust her? I think not. It’s awful.”

His voice was full of regret and desperation, and even if seeing Bryce like that was painful for her, she didn’t regret her decision.

“You got caught in a misunderstanding. I bet you thought the worst because you’re afraid and that’s understandable. Now you know the truth and you can move on.”

“Move on?—He turned around and started pacing around the hallway trying to contain his anger.—"How can I move on if I know the last three days could’ve been so much different and I…”

“Bryce, stop there.”—Aurora snapped, serious. —"You have to stop wallowing in what-ifs and should’ves right now, because is not going to lead you anywhere, and is not going to help Eleanor either. She needs you. You’re the person she needs the most now, so you have to be in your best shape and mood to help her. Your feelings are important, but right now you have to focus on her.”

Bryce stopped in the middle of the hallway and sighed loudly, then he nodded and looked up at Aurora.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this, I don’t lose control this easily, it’s just…”

It’s just that he couldn’t imagine a life without Eleanor, and he couldn't live with the fact that he could've held her, and kiss her, and love her the last three days but he didn't because he was blind and scared.

His breath started raging and he winced, trying to contain the emotions that were overwhelming him. The idea of losing her was becoming more palpable than ever.

“It’s okay, Bryce. You love her, she’s your girlfriend, I’d be more worried if you hadn’t lost your shit by now. Come here.”

Aurora pulled him into a hug, and he wrapped her instantly as if holding her was like clinging to the last drop of sanity he had left.

Guilt had always been his weak spot. He learned it when he left Keiki in Maui and never came back, and to this day he was still dealing with the consequences and trying to make up for the lost time.  

And now he was dealing with another kind of guilt, and facing death was making everything worse. The effects were instant, devastating, and maddening.

After a minute of herculean effort to not crying his soul out, Bryce pulled away from Aurora, feeling more serene and like a lot of weight had been taken off his shoulders.  

“Thank you, Aurora.”—He muttered, staring deeply at her chocolate eyes, trying to convey his feelings.— “You’re an amazing friend.”

If it wasn’t for her, Bryce would’ve drowned in guilt, shame, and self-loathing to a depth so dangerous, it would've taken an impossible effort to come afloat by himself.

Aurora smiled at him and shook him by the shoulders.

“Anytime you need, I’ll be there for you. You’re not alone.”

“Likewise.”

“Dr. Lahela?”

Bryce turned around and found a nurse a few feet away, looking at them cautiously, almost sorry for interrupting the intimate moment.  

“Yes, Marlene?”

“I’ve been trying to contact Eleanor’s family for a couple of hours, but no success. Dr. Ramsey told me you probably have an alternative number? Or maybe you could have access to Eleanor’s phone so we could get another number?”

“And what numbers do you have?”

“Her family emergency contact was her mom’s cellphone and a landline in Cincinnati.”

“And none of them works?”

“The cellphone is out of service, and no one answers in her house.”

Bryce frowned, thoughtful, and after a few seconds, he nodded.

“Oh. Of course. Eleanor’s parents aren’t in the city. They went to Chile to spend the national holidays with her mom’s family. We should try with her brother, he’s in college in Michigan. Where’s Eleanor’s phone?”

“It’s at the Diagnostics Office, with the rest of her belongings.”

Bryce and Aurora entered the empty office. In the center of the round table was a plastic bag with Eleanor’s clothes, shoes, and her phone. Bryce grabbed her phone and unlocked it with his fingerprint without a moment's hesitation.

Aurora chuckled without hiding the surprise in her eyes.

“What?”

“One thing is knowing her password, but adding your fingerprint?”

“It’s faster when you wanna put a song on Spotify.—He shrugged with a nonchalant expression on his face.—"She has access to mine too.”

Aurora and Marlene shared a knowing smile, but he didn’t notice it.              

Bryce scrolled through Eleanor’s contacts list. When he found “Benja”, he dialed instantly. After several rings, a whispering voice was heard on the other side of the line.

“Hello? Andrew? I’m in class right now.”

“Um, hello Benjamin, this is Bryce Lahela.”—He said softly.

“Bryce Lahela…  oh, shoot. Hello. You’re my sister’s boyfriend, right?”

“Y… Yes. Can we talk? I have something important to tell you.”

“Okay, wait a second.”

While he was waiting, Bryce couldn’t help but feel shivers down his spine. It was the first time he was talking to a member of Eleanor’s family, and even if he knew her family was aware of their relationship, it made him feel nervous reaching this milestone, especially under terrible circumstances, and after the doubts he had been feeling the past few days.

“Okay, I’m out. Something happened?”

Bryce tried to balance the concern of a boyfriend with the calmness and professionalism acquired in his medical career to not shock Benjamin more than necessary.

“Unfortunately, yes. There was an assassination attempt on a Senator here in Edenbrook, it was Eleanor’s patient, and she was caught in the middle. The hospital tried to contact your mother, but as she’s in Chile, I decided to contact you directly.”

“Shit. Yes, you did the right thing. How is she? What happened exactly?”

“She’s stable at the moment. This assassin used a canister with an unknown substance, so the hospital is working to figure out what was inside as soon as possible.  It already killed a man, and there’s a nurse in a coma."

“Oh my god, no…”

Bryce could sense the pain Benjamin was feeling even if he couldn’t see him. He knew how much Eleanor adored her brother, so it was natural that Benjamin would feel the same way about her. And knowing his sister was in danger of course would cause this type of reaction, especially being away.

“Is she awake? Can I speak with her?”

“She’s in quarantine, so is kind of difficult to let you talk through the phone, but I can try.”

“No, it’s okay. Don’t worry. I… I’ll fly as soon as I can to Boston.”

“Do you have a number so we can call your parents?”

“I’ll do it. I have my grandma’s landline, that’s the quickest way to contact mom.”

“Okay, then. Let me know if you need anything, alright? Do you have money to fly here?”

“Yes, I have a credit card to use in case of emergencies. Thank you, Bryce.”

“No problem.”

After a few more questions and Bryce giving him his number, Benjamin hung up. If he was lucky, he would be able to land in Boston in three hours.

“Okay, Benjamin is going to contact Eleanor’s parents and once he's here, they'll have a video call with the Team so they can inform Eleanor’s state more detailly.”

“Understood. Thank you so much, Dr. Lahela. I’ll let know Dr. Ramsey.”

“No problem, glad I could help.”

When Bryce grabbed his own phone to save Benjamin’s number, he noticed he had several missed calls and messages from Keiki.

“Bryce, I read that something happened at the hospital. Please answer me.” “I know you probably are in the OR but please call me when you see this” “Are you okay?”

Bryce sighed and dialed her number.

“Bryce? Oh my god, how are you? Why you didn’t answer!”

“I was at the surgery, Keiki. I told you it would last long”—He lied, but regretted it the second he let out the words.

“I know, but… I was worried, the news are saying the police is in the hospital, that someone tried to kill a Senator. Is that true?”

Bryce pondered his words. There was no point in lying, sooner or later she would find out, and it was better if it was from him.  So he told her the truth. That the rumors she saw on the news were true, and that Eleanor was in danger. Keiki was desperate and wanted to come over to the hospital to see her, but even if he needed his sister here, he had to play the responsible and serious older brother for once in his life.

“Keiki, it’s better if you stay at home. Is too dangerous here and I think Eleanor would kill me if I let you come over.”

She chuckled.

“That’s true. Better not give her a hard time.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, but please, keep me informed.”

“I will. And if you need anything, please call me, and stay safe. I’m probably staying here tonight.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.  Please send Ella all my love if you see her, okay?”

“Sure, thank you, sis."

Three hours later, Bryce was deep in thoughts sitting in a chair near the atrium, when he saw the vivid image of Eleanor walking towards him.  He had to blink several times.

“Damn, pictures give you an idea, but I didn’t know you and Elle were so alike.— He joked, standing up from the chair and offering his hand to the guy in front of him. —"Hello Benjamin, nice to meet you.”

The situation wasn’t appropriate for jokes, but somehow Bryce felt like he needed to kill the tension from the start. Eleanor had told him her brother was ongoing and nice, and it just felt right to act that way with him, instead of serious and gloomy.

Benjamin returned the handshake and smiled.

He was way taller than Eleanor but not taller than him, and he had an athletic body, even if he wasn't on any sports team at college. He was just a soccer and basketball aficionado, or at least that’s what Eleanor had told him.

“Nice to meet you too, Bryce. For what it's worth, you’re as handsome as you seem in Ellie’s Pictogram. Thought you were using some Ken filter, but nope, that’s really you.—Benja teased, containing a laugh.

Bryce couldn’t help but chuckle.

“100% real, no weird filters, I promise.”

“Any updates?”

“None. She’s stable and was sedated right after we spoke the first time, so she should be awake by now. The rest is working in the labs trying to find out what could’ve been inside the canister.”

“And you’re not going?”

“I was hired as moral support. My friends are more expert in that field than me, I’m just a surgeon.”—Bryce replied sheepishly, shrugging.

“But the best surgical resident or that’s what I’ve heard.”

His eyes widened for a second, but then Bryce shook his head, amused.

“She told you that?”

“That and other fangirly praises like “oh, he’s so cute, so charming, and talented, the best surgeon, he’s amazing.”

His heart did a flip. He never expected Eleanor would talk about him like that to her brother. Or that she would talk about him at all.

“You must be really impressive to have my sister babbling like a teenager at the age of 27.”

“What can I say? I’m a total catch.”—Bryce gave him his characteristic charming smile, feeling somehow relieved for a moment. It was like Benjamin was giving him the same relaxed and nice vibes he always felt around Eleanor.

Benjamin laughed and Bryce’s heart did another flip as he saw traces of Eleanor’s smile in him. She was everywhere. In the shape of his eyes, the way he quirked his brows, in his grin, even he could hear her in his still marked Ohioan accent.

“Yeah, I’m pretty cocky too, ask my friends and everyone will say a round yes, but your sister doesn’t deserve any less.”

“I agree completely.”

After a few minutes, Bryce and Benjamin stood in front of the quarantined room. Eleanor was half-asleep staring at Rafael, who was sleeping.

“Andrew”—Benjamin muttered.

Eleanor was extremely pale, her eyes were puffy, and her lips parched and cracked, but the moment she opened her eyes and recognized Benjamin, her whole face brightened with love and surprise.  

“Benja! Ohmygod! What are you doing here?”

“Bryce contacted me so I had to come to see you. How are you?”

Eleanor stood up with difficulty. When she reached the door, her eyes were full of tears.

“Bebé… I’m… well, I’ve been better, but right now I’m so happy to see you.”

“Me too, sis.”

Both siblings shared a smile, the same kind smile, and Bryce couldn't help but mirror them.

“Well, I leave you to it. I’ll let Dr. Ramsey know you’re here so you can have the meeting with your parents.”

Bryce turned to leave but Eleanor stopped him.

“Bryce, wait.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you, thank you for calling my brother.”

Eleanor gave him a tender smile, full of thankfulness and adoration.

“Yeah, thank you, Bryce, for all you’ve done for my sister.”—Benjamin added, earnestly.

“It’s nothing. Let me know if you need anything.”

And he left the siblings catching up with their lives, the younger trying to cheer up the older with the usual jokes and mocks siblings have.

Hours later, Eleanor paged to report a new symptom Rafael had manifested before falling into a coma. Hopefully, it would be the key to find the answer they’ve been trying to reach all day.

“Bryce?”—Aurora murmured, approaching him in the hallway. “Dr. Ramsey wants to talk to you, he’s in his personal office.”

When Bryce turned to her he didn’t need a second glance to read the panic in her eyes. He gulped and then forced himself to smile at Eleanor.

“See you later, gorgeous.”

Bryce walked to the office as fast as he could. When he reached Ethan’s office, he breathed deeply before getting in. As he opened the door, he found the attending looking at the window, pensive. He looked small and fragile, and when Bryce stood behind him, he saw how haggard he was in the reflection of the window. After a few moments, Ethan turned to face him, and he didn’t even bother to hide his feelings.

“Do you know what’s in the canister?”

“Yes. June was right. It’s…”.—Ethan cleared his throat, brows knitted in worry.—“ It’s a maitotoxine.”

“Maitotoxine? I think I’m not familiar with the name.”

“It’s an extremely potent toxin commonly found in fish, but this… this toxin is something I’ve never seen before. Not June, not Baz…”—Ethan shoved his hand through his hair, evidencing his frustration.

“What does this mean?”—Bryce said in a tiny voice, already knowing what Ethan was about to say.

“There is no antidote for this, Bryce.”

For a moment, Bryce felt like he would faint, his mind went clouded, and lost track of space and time. His body wasn’t strong enough to process such information. Such undeniable and hurtful truth.

What he had been fearing all day was now materializing.

“And what are you going to do? Can you create an antidote or modify another one with a similar molecular structure? That has been done lots of times.”

“Yes, that’s what we are hoping to do. Aurora informed me that a group of doctors from Mass Kenmore is coming to Edenbrook to help, so we’ll have the best minds working on an antidote.”

But they had to have it before it’s too late.”

“You have to… you have to find the antidote, Ethan. She can’t die… She…”

Bryce suddenly got out of breath. The desperation was brewing again. The pain was inexorable. He couldn’t hold it anymore.

“I can’t lose her. Ethan, please… You have to...”

He couldn’t tell when happened, but all at once, he found himself drowning in sobs and with large tears streaming past his neck, reaching his chest.

He did his best to not succumb to his feelings in the OR because Kyra needed him, and he couldn't fail her nor Eleanor.

He managed to hold it while he was with Aurora because there was still hope and Aurora forced him to focus on Eleanor.

He was doing fine keeping his hopes high, trusting they would find out what was in the canister and then set a treatment and everything would be alright.

But there was no cure, no antidote.

Even if one hundred doctors were working on it, no one could assure him that they could do it before it’s too late. Before she’s gone.

He didn't even want to think in a world without her, but the sole draft, just a slight hint of it was devastating, unbearable.

He started gasping for air. His guts were shaking uncontrollably. The lump he felt in his throat at OR was now bigger and even more painful. His entire body was numb.

This was a living nightmare.

After a few seconds, Bryce took a chair and sat down before his legs could fail him.  Ethan did the same.

“We have to stay positive, Bryce. Many of us have experience with research and with the help of Mass Kenmore and your friends, I’m sure will be on time to fight the toxin.”

“I wanna believe that, I’ve been believing this shit all day, Ethan. But… if it’s too late. I…”—He rubbed his face with both hands, his face red and wet with tears. Then he buried his face in his hands.—“She doesn’t deserve this… She can’t die… Please…”

Ethan patted him in the shoulder, comfortingly, his eyes haunted with fear and sadness.

“Bryce, I won’t let anything happen to Eleanor ...”—He hesitated for a moment, pondering his next words.— “You know what she means to me. I know you do. And I’ll do everything I can to save her, I promise. Whatever it takes. I won’t let anything happen to her. "

Bryce looked at him defeated.

“If I could, I would do it too, but I’m so useless. I feel so useless.”

"No, Bryce, on the contrary, you have done for her more than any of us could. If she’s still able to have a smile on her face despite the hell she’s living, if she’s still standing is not only because she’s incredibly strong. It’s because she has you. You’re part of the reason she hasn’t fallen into a coma yet.”

There was a painful rawness in those words. In another time and circumstances, Ethan would have never been able to say it aloud, mostly for pride and because he didn’t use to open to anyone. But not today. His love for Eleanor was selfless enough to let him recognize that if she was doing good was because of Bryce, and she had given him enough bravery to accept it out loud in front of the person she had chosen over him. Because Ethan only needed one second of watching Eleanor looking at Bryce to realize she was in love with him.

The only person Eleanor needed, was Bryce.

Ethan’s words felt like an absolute and relieving certainty to Bryce, mostly because who was saying it was the person he would expect it the less, and it gave him the strength he needed to keep going. To keep being there for Eleanor in this difficult night.

“Thank you, Ethan.”—Bryce said after a while, regaining breath and clarity.

The attending nodded and then stood up from the chair.

“Come on, we have to speak with Eleanor, and she’ll need you by her side.”

Eleanor was hopeless. Bryce could tell how the slight hope she had inside her had vanished with the news.

“We’ll do our best to find the antidote. Just keep fighting Eleanor.”—Elijah reassured.

The doctors from Mass Kenmore and the rest of their friends started to go. Sienna was heading Benjamin to the fifth floor so he could have some rest. He didn’t want to leave the hospital in case something happened.

And then, there was only Ethan and Bryce outside the room.

Eleanor smiled at Ethan, noticing how troubled and scared he was, as if he didn’t want to leave her there, knowing things could go wrong anytime and he couldn’t say goodbye. But he knew it wasn’t his place to be anymore. He knew it was Bryce’s.

“Thank you, Ethan. For everything.”

“We’ll make it, Eleanor. Keep fighting just as you’ve been doing until now.”—He stared deeply into her eyes for a moment, before turning around and leave Bryce alone in the hallway.  

Bryce watched him leave, and when he looked at Eleanor, her swelling eyes were already on him, clinging onto him even if she couldn’t touch him. Like his eyes were strong and powerful enough to hold her to life.

She was tired. She was giving up.

“It’s gonna be okay, Elle, I promise.”

“It won’t. How they’re going to create an antidote in just a few hours? Raf and Danny are in a coma, they could go at any moment, so do I."

“Yes, it could happen at any moment, but that moment could take hours, even days, and I’m sure the team will have it on time.  They have a lot of brilliant people working on it, with tons of experience. They’ll make it, I know.”

Eleanor shook her head hastily, sobbing.

“It’s just I’m so tired, Bryce. I… I can’t take it anymore, I’m tired of being strong and show hope and shit, I want this to be over, I’m done.”

“I know you are, babe. You have been so strong and brave, it’s understandable that you want a break. You deserve it, but you have to keep fighting, okay?”

“The only reason I’m doing it it’s because of you. Because somehow you don’t let me fall. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I would be still standing. I don’t know I’d be here. I wouldn’t be that strong.”

Bryce smiled tenderly at her puffed eyes.

“You would. Don’t you know it already, Eleanor? That strength that you have is all you. You have it inside you. You always have.”

“Don’t you know it already, Bryce? You make me stronger. You know it’s true.”

“Glad to be of service.”—He flashed her a smile that made her smile too.—“But this is mostly you.”

“I wish I could hold you right now. I miss you so much.”

“Maybe you can.”

“How?”

“There’s another hazmat suit out here. I could go inside and make you company for a while.  I hate the idea of you being alone in a moment like this.”

“Would you do that for me?”

“How dare to ask that, Eleanor Andrea Bloom? You know I would do anything for you.”

Eleanor bit his lower lip, compassing her sobs for a moment.

“I’d love to have you here with me.”

“That’s it, then.”

A few minutes later, Bryce entered the room with the hazmat suit on, and a dashing smile adorning his face.  

“Well, what do you think? Am I still handsome? Or am I somehow more handsome? Be honest.”—He said flirtily.

She shook her head, chuckling.

“God, how I missed you, Johnny Bravo.”—She said looking at him from head to toes.—"I think it’s your best look yet. You’ll catch a lot of babes with that.”

“Ah,”—He growled, taking slow steps towards her— “but you know there’s just one babe I want, and I have it right here in front of me.”

Eleanor looked up at him, almost not believing he was in front of her, that she was able to touch him.

In an intent to believe it, she cut the distance and wrapped Bryce in a tight embrace.

“You’re here, you’re really here.”

“You’re not the only one who was dying for a hug, you know? Especially after all the opportunities, I wasted in these few days."

Bryce tightened his hold, almost scared that Eleanor would vanish into thin air any second now.

“Elle, I’m…”

“Shhh… Not now.”

He nodded and both remained silent, savoring the embrace, the sweet feeling of having each other in their arms. Even if they couldn’t feel the warmth and smell they loved so much, feeling their arms wrapped around those so well known curves was sufficient. It brought them joy, peace. A sense of reality in the middle of that living hell.  

After a minute, her limbs started trembling and her breath got short.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you to bed.”

Bryce took her hand and helped her laid down. Then, somehow, he managed to squeeze in the bed beside her.  

“How’s that?”

“Much, much better.”—Eleanor placed a hand over his waist and then added: —“My brother really liked you. A lot.”

“I know. I liked him too.”

“You know?”

“I told him I was a total catch, cause I am, and he agreed with me. That totally means that he likes me, right?”

“Bryce…”—She laughed, rolling her eyes.

“What? It’s the truth! I didn’t force him to agree or anything! I mean, you did half the job by telling him all those incredible things about me.”

“He told you that? Oh, that brat!”

Bryce shrugged, amused while Eleanor shook her head.

I’m glad you finally get to know each other, and you actually liked each other.”

"I mean, it's hard not to. He's really nice and you've told me so much about him I feel like I've known him for a long time."

“I think something like that happened to me with Keiki, even if I had absolutely no idea about her existence before I met her”—Eleanor teased, feigning annoyance.

“Keiki… She’s been worried about you all day. She was crazy to come up here, but I told her you would kill me if she came. But I’ve been giving her updates every hour.”

“Oh, yes. I would’ve been so fucking mad, Bryce Lahela. I’m glad you kept her safe.”—Then she sighed.—"The poor thing, must be all alone. You should go to see her.”

“I know, but I can’t leave you here, Elle.”

“Would it be too selfish of me if I tell you I don’t want you to leave?”

“No. Not at all.”—His look softened.—“I don’t want to leave, either. In fact, I won’t leave your side, Eleanor.”

Bryce gave him a tiny smiled and they stared at each other, savoring once again the moment of being together. After a while, Eleanor laughed.

“What is it?”

“You look so fucking handsome, Bryce, it’s ridiculous, and I look like shit. I’m done a complete mess.”

Bryce chuckled, spotting the dark circles around her eyes, her tousled hair, how pale she was. He really hadn’t noticed how bad she looked.

“Yeah, you look like shit”—He teased.—"But you know what? You’re still the most beautiful creature in the universe, princess.”

Her eyes were swelling with tears, and a moment later, a sob escaped her mouth.

“Okay, okay, I take it back,”—He added seconds, later, noticing her swelling eyes. “you don’t look like shit, you look amazing, babe, incredible. Ready for a Vogue photoshoot. Ready for the Oscars.”

Bryce couldn’t tell if what escaped her mouth was a sob or a giggle, but her face had lightened somehow.

Somehow, he managed to end her anguish and ease her pain.

Somehow.

He didn’t know how.

As if it was pure luck.

But she perfectly knew it wasn’t luck.

“Gosh, Bryce…”—She couldn’t continue. It felt like she was out of breath.—"Bryce I…”

She brought her hands to the side of his head, her thumbs over the face shield as if she was caressing his cheeks.

She locked eyes with him, and that look, that adoring look made him feel millions of shivers through his all body. Those dreamy tender eyes managed to convey all the emotions that were brewing inside her.

And Bryce was finally, finally able to see it, after missing it so many times that day.

“Te amo.”

He was at last, at last able to hear it, after longing for it for so long.

Her eyes were looking directly into his soul, into his heart, pouring everything she had inside to fill him with the most sincere and sweet love. With adoration, admiration, tenderness. With the purest feelings anyone could imagine.

And those two words sounded like relief. Like she had been choking and those words out loud were acting like the air she had been needing for so long.

“I love you so, so, so much, Bryce.”

And her eyes now were even fuller with adoration and candor. Full of happiness and life, even if ten minutes ago she had been feeling ready to die.

“I… I wish I had realized sooner, and these weren’t the circumstances where I’m able to say it… but if I don’t make it, I don’t want to go without you knowing what I feel about you.”

“Babe, you’ll make it, you don’t need to do this just because you’re here.”

“I’m doing this because that’s how I truly feel. I’m in love with you.”

“You really are?”

Even if he had been waiting for those words for months, he couldn’t believe it. Even if he had been receiving signs all day, from different people, he still couldn’t believe it.

“Yes. Yesterday I was finally able to see it, but it has been there for a while.”

“How so?”

“I’ll explain it later. You need to know some things first.”

“Okay.”

“As you know, I went to Ethan’s apartment after the game.”

“Aha.”

And she told him everything that happened that night. She didn’t keep anything. Well, except the personal stuff Ethan had shared with her, but the confession, the things he promised her, the kiss, how she felt after that, what she talked with Aurora. Everything. Because she had nothing to hide and he deserved to know everything, just as it always had been.

“And I just like that, I realized that I was over him. Just like you said. I was in front of the Ethan I used to love, telling me he loved me, offering me everything. But it turned out I… I didn’t want him anymore.”

“I’m sorry it had to be this painful to you. I had no idea you had been hurt so much.”

“Yeah, I had it blocked, but I’m sure I would’ve told you if it wasn't the case.

Bryce stroke her hair in the most tender way he could, his eyes haunted.

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m for being so distant and an ass with you. I should’ve let you talk, but I was afraid of what you would tell me”

“I know. I know and I completely understood it. But I can’t deny that at some point I was afraid that… I hurt you to the point of you not wanting anything to do with me anymore. That going with Ethan that night was the last straw and that no matter what happened between him and me, you… you would want to break up."

“No, of course not. How could I decide something like that without a warning? And with something I pushed you to do? No. I was just… trying to delay the inevitable. The suffering of knowing that you gave him a chance.”

“Well, I didn’t. And I realized that I was in love with you instead. At last.”

“Are you sure about that? You know there’s no need to hurry…”

“Bryce, why is so hard to believe it? Should I shout it with a megaphone, or maybe post photos and stories on my Pictogram telling that I’m truly, madly, deeply in love with you so you can believe me? Because I’m willing to.”

Bryce laughed, incredulous.

“Truly, Madly, Deeply. Damn. Just like that Savage Garden song?”

“The very same. I like the 90s.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

She bit her lower lip, smiling.

“I cannot believe how blind I was. It has been there, the whole time!”

“I’m listening.”

“It’s…”

Her whole face lit up with that sunny smile he loved so much. For a moment, he forgot where they were.

“It’s in the way I look at you, like a fool. Like I was fifteen. It’s the fact that you’re my first thought in the morning and my last one before going to sleep. You’re the first person I think of when something good happens, or when something bad happens too. In your arms is where I feel safe, and I know there's no other place I'd rather be. And god, I laugh with all your jokes, even the bad ones, and I don't find you cocky anymore because all that you say about yourself is true, and I think about you all the damn day, Bryce. I’m all day wanting for the day to end so I can see you and kiss you. And…”

Eleanor stopped for a moment, trying to catch some breath. Bryce shook his head. He had the stupidest smile she had ever seen on him. The same smile she was sure she had on her face right now.

“Another example? My brother. I haven’t been able to stop talking about you. It wasn’t like this from the beginning, but now I’ve just realized that the last few weeks I haven’t done anything but tell him, or my mom, how happy I am with you. I’ve been even imagining how it would be if I ever introduce you to my abuela. I bet she would adore you the moment she meets you, and she would love you more than me, and would cook your favorite meal, and would give you the last spoon of ice cream and… and I really don’t care, because you deserve it. You deserve the last spoon of ice cream, and my grandma’s meals, and … Everything. You deserve everything, Bryce.  I don’t know what else to say. I’m in love with you like a teenager, and I feel like never before. What did you do to me?”

He smiled, tears of joy streaming down his face. That slump in his throat hurt again, but for different reasons. It was for the absolute tenderness and adoration he was feeling inside his chest. Admiration. Love. God. He couldn’t understand how he could love her so much. How much she meant to him. How happy and complete she made him feel. He had never felt this for anybody before, he knew it already, but now he was realizing he would never feel this way for anybody else, ever.

“I’m crazy about you too, Eleanor. I’ve been holding these feelings for so long to not scare you or pressure you, but god, I feel the same way. I think about you all day, and every time I think about the future, you’re in there.”

“That’s a relief, because for a moment I thought I was being too cheesy and clingy.”

“Babe, you’re always cheesy. You can’t help it around me.”

“You created a monster, Bryce Lahela.”

“I like cheese. I would eat cheese all day. And for the record, I would definitely share the last spoon of ice cream with you"

Bryce winked at her and then pressed her body against his.

“God, I wish I could kiss you.”

“You will.”

“But I want to kiss you noooow."

Eleanor pouted and butterflies fluttered ferociously in his stomach. She made him feel like fifteen too.

“Well, miss impatience, is nice to finally meet you.”

"Tell me that you're not dying to kiss me right now."

“I am. But we’ll have to manage with what we have for now.”

“How so?”

“Imagination. How would you like me to kiss you the next time?”

“If there’s a next time.”

Bryce scowled her and squeezed her waist.

“There will be. You’ll get through this, babe. I promise.”

She gave him a sad smile.

“So?”

“So what?”

“How will you want me to kiss you after you get out of here.”

“Mmm… I think… Slow and sweet, just like our ‘first kiss’ at Isabella’s”

“Mmm what a good kiss. Cute and romantic.”

“Or maybe passionate and breathtaking, just like that kiss at the beach, on your birthday. God, I can’t decide!”

“Don’t worry, we can always try both.”

“I hope so.”

“We will. You have to believe me.”

“Okay. I believe you. If I die, I’ll come to visit you every night, Bryce Lahela.”

“Lucky for me you won’t die. I would hate to have your ghost every night by my side and not being able to kiss you and do you dirty things.”

“Bryce!”—Eleanor giggled. “Okay, okay, I believe you. Bring me that dreamy kiss now!”

“Close your eyes.”

Eleanor obeyed and closed her eyes.

“Remember that night at the Museum?”

“I could never forget”—She muttered—.

Bryce took her hand and with the tip of her fingers, he brushed her lips delicately, exposing her inner lip for a moment. Then with her thumb, he caressed her mouth.

“I will kiss you sweetly and delicately while I hold you by the waist, transmitting how much I love you, how much you mean to me. How happy I am to have you in my life.”

After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, smiling.  

“That night was perfect.”

“Yeah, and you looked gorgeous.”

“But you, you were stunning in that silky pink shirt… And the night was so nice. Warm and starry. Oh, and there was music playing.”

“Yes, that slow jazz… When I fall in love… It will be forever”—He sang slowly.

“Or I’ll never fall in love…”—She continued.—“You remember the song?”

“Obviously. It played on my mind on repeat for like two weeks.”

“Oh. That means you had that kiss playing on repeat on your head for two weeks?”

“I plead the fifth.”

She chuckled.

“Well, I, for one, thought about that kiss a lot in the following days. Another example of how goofy you leave me.”

“Good I wasn’t the only one.”

Suddenly, her smile faded, and Eleanor looked at him earnestly.

“Thank you for taking a chance on us that night, Bryce. Since that day you’ve given me nothing but happiness. And I’m sure that from that day there was no returning point for me. Sooner or later I would fall for you, and I’m glad I finally did.”

“I would do it a million times, in a heartbeat, Eleanor.”

“And I’d choose you a million times, over and over again. I only wish that none of those million times had to involve me dying just when I realized I was in love with you.”

“You’ll make it, babe. I have so much love to give you, that I won’t let you go so easily.”

_____

A/N: Hello! If you make it this far, I have to thank you! I know it was a super long chapter, but it was really important (for the story and for me) and I honestly didn’t want to save words, nor split it in two chapters.

If I had to resume Bryce in this chapter in two words those would be: Husband material. And next chapter will be husband material x3264546.

Thank you for all your support, I hope you liked this chapter. I’d love to hear your opinions in the comments.

A big hug to each and every one of you!

A/N2: *spoiler* Graphic description of Eleanor after chapter 17:

I think it works the other way around too 😂