#and that's not a good combination when she's opening back up a wound with a needle

[servuscallidus]

On the same topic, when I was a kid I pierced my ears for my earrings but the wounds got infected and I had to let them close. This summer I found out that as long as you have the scars you can reopen them diy style with a needle and I did it with one of them, the least closed one. So now I only have one earring

[standfucker]

Post-Injury Hurt/Comfort Series - Monster Trio

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Reader: GN

Word Count: 3.3k

CW: blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, stitches

Ao3 Link

After writing The Break, I've always wanted to do drabbles of the same scenario for other characters, so here we are. ( 0v0)/

Luffy

It happens in an instant. One moment, you’ve brought your mace down on the head of the lion Zoan, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. You collapse next to his body, exhausted from the fight.

The next moment, the lion Zoan lunges at you from the floor, one massive paw smashing into your face with all the strength of their devil fruit, sickle claws tearing your flesh open.

You go flying. You hit the ground hard, leaving a smear of blood from your body skidding. Dazed, you try and get your bearings, berating yourself for letting your guard down early, praying it didn’t cost you the fight. The lion Zoan snarls and charges you.

“Gum-Gum Whip!”

The sight of your captain intercepting your opponent brings a heavy relief–if Luffy’s finished with his own opponent, that means your part is done, too. You can finally catch your breath.

With the rest comes the dull, burning pain across your face. The enemy mostly got you in the nose and mouth, miraculously missing your eyes. Blood runs from your nose and mouth and drips from your chin, bleeding as heavily as a head wound. Still, you’re not too concerned. It’s only when the rest of the crew catches up to you and you try to talk that you realize how much damage the lion did, because not only does speaking hurt, but Nami makes a face at the sight of you.

The local anesthetic that Chopper gives you helps a little bit, but it still hurts when he realigns your nose and stitches up the gashes. Luffy holds your hand the entire time, knowing you hate needles.

“Good job, Y/n!” Luffy says after Chopper’s done. “You’re real tough!”

“Thanks, Captain.” You sigh. “I would have been fine if I hit him again, but I thought he was down. I forgot how resilient Zoans can be.”

“You didn’t want to kill him.”

“I know, I shouldn’t take these fights so lightly–”

“Y/n, that’s a good thing.” Luffy stretches an arm around your shoulder. “You’re a good person. Besides, I was able to take him out easily because of the damage you did.”

“Nami looked horrified when she saw my face,” you say. “I must look like a mess.”

“You do,” Luffy says honestly, making you smile–which pulls on your stitches.

“Owww, oh…smiling hurts.”

“Then don’t smile!”

“I can’t help it. You make me smile. You know this.”

Luffy rubs his chin, eyes rolling up as he thinks. “Then I should stay away from you.”

“Nooo, don’t do that! I need you around to cheer me up! Especially now.” You take his hand that’s hanging around your shoulder, feeling your chest lighten when he squeezes back.

“Well, in that case, I’ll just not make you smile!” he says.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” You chuckle, then look at the mirror hanging on the wall. If you need to lower your mood, there’s an easy shortcut–the combination of your inflamed, swollen skin, plus the stitches make you look nothing short of monstrous.

Luffy notices your face falling. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s going to scar. And not even in a cool way.” Living with severe facial scarring probably won’t be that bad–you are a pirate, after all–but it’ll still be new. And, to be honest, you’re not ready for your appearance to change so dramatically.

“What are you talking about? It’ll be super cool!” Luffy says earnestly. “Everyone will know what a strong pirate you are!”

He’s trying to cheer you up. You don’t want to bring him down in the dumps with you, but you can’t help but be bummed out.

“But what if I don’t want to look cool?” you say. “What if I just want to look like me? I mean, who could possibly find a face like this appealing?” You ghost your fingers over the stitches on your lips. “Who would kiss lips like mine?”

You think you’re holding it in okay, but the admission has you tearing up. You’re being ridiculous–you should be happy to be alive. But why did it have to be your face? Why…

Luffy stares at you in that way he does when he’s thinking. You can’t tell what’s going through his mind.

It happens in an instant.

One moment you’re sitting next to each other in silence. The next moment, he wraps his other arm around you, pulls you in close, and lightly presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

It hurts a little, but it also feels so good that your tears break free and sting where they roll over your cuts.

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry, Y/n,” Luffy says when he pulls away.

“No, no! It was nice! It was really nice.” You have to fight not to smile.

“Oh, good! I liked it too!” he giggles, looking overjoyed.

“When I heal up, will you do that again?”

“I can do it right now!” Luffy says eagerly, but you clear your throat and tilt your head toward the doorway.

Chopper is standing there, little hooves on his hips, thoroughly unimpressed with the both of you and your method of boosting morale.

Zoro

Zoro was always one to downplay his injuries. Next to Chopper, you gave him the most trouble for it out of anyone in the crew. He figured that so long as he got medical attention, the extent of the injuries was no big deal.

He never expected to be on the receiving end.

In the heat of battle, he’s entirely focused on his opponent. This enemy crew is tough, but not the strongest they’ve faced. Strong enough to demand his full concentration.

However, Zoro knows the unique sound of a sword cutting through flesh. When he hears the shhk! noise behind him and remembers you’re also fighting a sword user, he’s so badly distracted he almost gets hit. He has just enough presence of mind to finish off his enemy before turning around.

That’s when he sees you fire a bullet into your opponent’s leg, your free arm wrapped around your stomach. There’s blood seeping between your fingers. In the time it takes him to rush to your side, you shoot your opponent again in the other leg, making him crumple, then once in each arm, rendering him completely unable to fight back from where he lays.

“Yo,” you say casually, but you’re trembling all over. Your torn shirt is staining quickly.

“You got cut,” Zoro states. He tries to pull your arm away so he can see your wound better, but you step back.

“I’m okay,” you say. You and Zoro both look down at your abdomen as you pull your arm away just slightly, and Zoro sees the unmistakable grayish-pink of your large intestine before you quickly plug up the gash with your arm again. You look back up at him. “It’s just a scratch.”

Zoro’s about ready to stab you himself, his eyes going wide with horror and rage. 

“Are you insane?!” he shouts. “A scratch?! Shit, where’s Chopper–?!”

“Ha ha–ow ow ow, hurts to laugh.” You grin, but Zoro notices you tearing up from the pain.

“Okay, just, stay still,” his hands are held up hesitantly, unsure of what to do, and he calls over his shoulder. “CHOPPER! Get over here right now!”

Once Chopper arrives, he applies an emergency field dressing and instructs Zoro on how to safely carry you back to the ship’s infirmary. You act like you’re in high spirits the entire way there, smiling up at Zoro like everything’s fucking dandy.

“This is kinda nice,” you say. “I haven’t been carried since I was little.”

“After you heal,” Zoro says, “I’ll carry you around as much as you want, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he says gently. “Does it hurt?”

“Of course not,” you say, and Zoro curses himself for having asked–he can see you wince with every harsh step he tries to avoid.

“We’re almost there. Almost there.”

“Relax, big guy. I’ve been through worse.”

You haven’t. He’s been in every major fight you’ve been through, and it’s never been this bad. Your blood is still warm on his skin, and your color’s getting paler, and it’s all because he couldn’t protect you.

The surgery takes longer than he thought. He’s pacing the hallway outside the infirmary so much that even Sanji starts to make a comment, which would have started a fight had Robin not intervened and sternly told them both that everyone was worried.

When you come to, it’s to the sight of Zoro standing over your bed. You don’t manage so much as a ‘yo’ before Zoro gets onto his hands and knees, bowing so low his head touches the floor.

“I’ll never let it happen again!” he says, minding his volume–Chopper is only allowing him to visit because Zoro promised he wouldn’t stress you out. “It’s my fault! I’m sorry–”

“Get up.” 

He peers up at you. Your face is twisted up like you’re holding something back, but you force it into a sneer.

“Get up right now, or I’m going to make fun of you,” you say. He hesitates long enough for you to roll your eyes. “Don’t be a pussy.”

That brings him right back to his feet. “What’d you call me?!”

“You heard me,” you say. “I’m alive, aren’t I? So relax.”

“I can’t relax!” Zoro snaps. “You got hurt because of me! I was too weak! I couldn’t–couldn’t stop this from happening!”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever?!” He no longer minds his volume. “How can you be so–so calm about this?!”

“How can you be making this about yourself?”

That shuts him up real quick. Realizing his mistake, Zoro starts to get a sour feeling in his stomach, but you only smile.

“Now you know what it feels like,” you chuckle and wince, “ow–what it feels like to have someone be dismissive of your injuries. So the next time you get hurt, you big dumb idiot, how about you have some self awareness and let me worry?”

Zoro deflates a little. “I still can’t just forgive myself like that.”

“I’ll do it for you.” You hold out your hand until he takes it. “Roronoa Zoro, I forgive you–so long as you do one thing for me.”

He leans in. “Anything. What is it?”

“Even with the pain meds, I’m still sore. Kiss it better?” You smile the way you do when you’re joking, but it soon turns to a look of surprise when Zoro leans in even closer. He hesitates for a moment, face hovering above yours, before his free hand comes to cradle the back of your head and he presses a firm, intent kiss to your lips.

You stare at him when he pulls away, your expression slowly morphing into a smile–not a playful one, not a masking one, but a real smile.

“W-What’s with that look?” Zoro says, flustered now. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“I meant kiss my stomach, dummy.”

Zoro’s eyes widen, but before he can remedy his mistake, you weakly pull him back in for another kiss. This time, he obliges without question.

Sanji

Sanji barely dodges a brutal strike from his opponent, then finishes them off with a flaming kick to the skull. You grin at him as you down your own opponent with a heavy strike from one of your tonfa.

“Careful there, Hotfoot! He almost got you!” you yell gleefully, only to narrowly avoid getting hit yourself.

“Worry about yourself, Sticks!” Sanji calls back, mirroring your grin.

“They’re not sticks!” you say yet again, smashing one of the tonfa into a pirate’s head and knocking them out cold. “You’re just jealous I can fight with my hands!”

“I choose not to fight with my hands!”

“Sure you do!”

You were well aware of Sanji’s commitment to only use his hands to cook, but it was still fun to pretend it was a skill issue. Sanji knew it was all teasing anyway. The two of you greatly enjoyed your banter, whether in or outside of battle. As physical fighters, your rivalry was a friendly one. After all, out of everyone in the crew, you spent the most time talking to each other.

The next wave of pirates comes, this time stronger than before–the enemy’s commanding officers. The battle becomes too serious for you to go on making comments, and your focus gets pulled toward your opponents.

It’s a hard, bloody fight. As soon as he defeats his opponent, he worries about how the others are faring. The rest of the crew is almost done with their own one-on-ones, and he finds himself rushing to find you first, his pace hurrying when he finds one of your tonfa lying off to the side.

You’re straddling your opponent on the ground. Your non-dominant hand is broken, held crookedly against your chest, and you’re bleeding from your hairline and mouth. With your good hand, you beat your tonfa into your opponent’s skull, over and over, a broken cry tumbling from your bloody lips with every strike. Your opponent is no longer moving, but you don’t stop, tears streaming from your eyes as you mash his face to a visceral pulp.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sanji skids to a stop next to you, grabbing your wrist before you can strike again. “He’s dead! It’s over. It’s over. You won.”

You look at him with wide eyes. Your mouth is held open, and at first, Sanji doesn’t realize what’s wrong, but he can tell you only won by a hair from the way you’re trembling. He gets down and pulls you into a gentle hug. “I got you,” he says. “I got you. You’re okay now.”

He holds you at arm’s length and checks over your body for any injuries, finding none. Mouth still open, you pull away from him and start patting the grass with your good hand, searching for something. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he says. “Please, say something.”

Sanji expects something tired and sarcastic, like ‘you don’t look much better.’ Instead, you make a strange, groaning noise as your response, and he feels a chill run through his body. You always had a quick retort for him, even when things were dire.

You seem to find what you were looking for, your hand closing around something. Sanji helps you stand up, and when you open your hand, he sees a few teeth in your palm that must have gotten knocked out.

“Your jaw’s broken,” Sanji realizes aloud, and you nod, and suddenly the way you hold your mouth open is deeply unsettling.

The silence that follows your surgery, however, puts Sanji at an even greater unease. Your jaw is wired shut to let the bone heal, and Chopper says that for the next six weeks, you won’t be able to speak at all.

You carry around a notepad with you, but for a while after you wake from the anesthesia, you don’t write anything down except to answer Chopper’s questions, opting instead to sulk.

“Come on, Sticks,” Sanji says lightly as he signs the cast on your hand. “I know you have something to say.”

You flick him off with your good hand, then seem to regret it, your face fallin along with your hand. Sighing through your nose, you grab your notepad and scribble something down, then hold it up for him to see.

‘I look like a chipmunk.’

The lower half of your face has, naturally, swollen up. Sanji shakes his head. “No, no, you look fine! You…” A pointed look from you makes him concede. “Okay, yeah. It’s swollen. What did you expect?” You look away, and he pats your shoulder. “Ah, come on, it’s not so bad. Most people find chipmunks cute, you know.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you give him a look of surprise. Sanji stiffens.

“Um, well, I mean…” he stammers. Though he doesn’t leave, for the rest of that day, you both avoid looking at each other.

From the beginning to the end of your healing process, Sanji stays by your side, always finding a way to make you feel better. He’ll hype you up by doing a drumroll while he’s waiting for you to finish writing out a thought, something which the rest of the crew picks up as well. When you’re hanging out with him in the galley, he’ll do hibachi tricks with the food he prepares to cheer you up.

The food he makes for you especially helps you get through the long weeks. You were severely bummed out at having to miss his cooking for weeks–until the first sip of the soup he cooked. You never knew a liquid diet could be so delicious. Sanji takes the time to roast and blend anything you’d wanted. Thanks to him, being unable to chew food doesn’t affect your nutrient intake at all.

He also indulges you in your favorite drink without you having asked, which is surprising. It’s not the first time he’s gone out of his way like this, but it does feel more special when you’ve been in such a vulnerable state.

‘Maybe there’s an upside to this after all.’

Sitting in the galley while Sanji cooks, you hold up your notepad for him to read.

“And what is that?” he says, walking around the prep table with a mixing bowl in his arms, looking down at what you’re writing.

‘I love y’

You pause, staring at your notepad with a weird, dumbstruck look. Sanji’s eyes widen, slowing down his mixing for a second, but you quickly recover and finish scribbling.

‘I love you treating me extra special.’ You hold up the notepad hesitantly, avoiding his eye. 

Though feeling warmth rise in his chest, Sanji plays it cool. “Well, I’m glad you’re finding the positive in this,” he says. “I personally miss the sound of your voice.”

You drop your notepad and fumble to catch it with only one good hand, accidentally smacking it to the floor. Both you and Sanji crouch down to pick it up, and freeze when your hands touch.

The urge to say ‘sorry’ is strong, though you can’t speak. Face burning, all you can do is look at him apologetically and hope he understands. But when you do, he’s looking back at you with the same expression he has when he reads a brand new recipe. Like he’s figuring something out.

You go to pull your hand away, but his fingers close around yours. “I, uh… I really mean that, you know.”

Swallowing, you glance down at his hand holding yours, then back up at him, and nod.

“Y/n,” he says, letting go of your hand to instead cup your cheek tenderly. “Would you… I mean. Can I…?”

With your heart pounding, you nod again, and Sanji leans in. You close your eyes, and a moment later, his lips brush yours, feather-light. Just that barest contact makes your head spin almost as bad as it did when you got your injury in the first place.

Sanji breaks free, and you stare at each other. A slow smile spreads across your lips at the sight of his nose starting to bleed. You both stand up, and you write something down quickly.

‘I’m sorry I can’t kiss you back.’

“That’s okay,” he says, reading the note over your shoulder. He rubs the back of his neck, grinning. “I’ll gladly do all the work.”

And Sanji does, in the quiet, private moments where it’s just the two of you. And yet, when the day finally comes for Chopper to remove the wires, and the first thing you do upon leaving the exam room is call out Sanji’s name, he’s so elated that he picks you up with a spin, kissing you in front of everyone before he can help himself.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Die with a smile - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Die with a smile - Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars - @carmenred28 & an anon (I combined both of your requests)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff (to make it up for the last one)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The first time they talked about forever wasn’t some grand, sweeping declaration of eternal love.

It was a random Tuesday evening at home. Lewis had been exhausted, sprawled out on the couch, his legs stretched across Y/n’s lap as she flicked through the channels.

He was absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, but his mind was elsewhere, and she could tell.

“Alright, what’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked, giving his leg a playful nudge. “You’re scrolling aimlessly”

He looked up at her, his brow furrowing. “Just thinking…” he said, his voice quiet. “The racing, the travel... sometimes it feels like I’m chasing something I don’t even know anymore.”

Y/n didn’t say anything right away. She just watched him, waiting to see if his thinking would get anywhere.

That was one of the things he loved about her—she never rushed him. She gave him the space to work through his thoughts, knowing he’d get there in his own time.

“And?” when she finally asked, her tone was light although it held a tone of curiosity.

Lewis shrugged, glancing away for a second before meeting her gaze again. “I guess I’m just thinking about what happens after all of this. What happens when I stop? What do I want then?”

He could see the question in her eyes, even before she asked it. “And what do you want?”

There it was, the question that had been lingering in the back of his mind for a while now. He took a deep breath, his heart beating a little faster as he said it out loud for the first time. “I want... you.”

Y/n blinked, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t need grand speeches or promises—her fingers brushed against his leg, a simple touch that said, I do too.

“Well,” she said, her voice teasing but affectionate, “that’s good to know, because I’ve kinda been banking on forever with you too.”

There was the nights after tough races. When nothing had gone right.

Lewis had been frustrated, angry, and wound up tight. He’d spent the drive to the hotel from the track stewing in his thoughts, his jaw clenched as the weight of the day pressed down on him.

Y/n had been waiting for him when he got back, her eyes searching his face, reading his mood instantly.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “But you’re not allowed to take it out on yourself.”

He had looked at her, caught off guard by her words, but also relieved that she knew exactly what he needed to hear. She always knew.

He sank down onto the couch next to her, fidgeting with his phone in his hands to try and control the turmoil in his head

“What if I’m losing it” he admitted, his voice raw. “What if I’m not good enough anymore.”

Y/n didn’t try to fix it, didn’t try to tell him he was wrong. Instead, she reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his.

“You’re allowed to have bad days, bad seasons even” she said softly. “It doesn’t make you any less incredible. But you need to give yourself a break, Lew. You’re still a champion, and one bad race doesn’t change that.”

She saw him, every flawed and imperfect part, and she loved him anyway.

There was the small things, the little moments that made up their everyday life together.

 Like the way she’d always let him pick what they were watching during dinner, even though he knew she didn’t care about half the stuff he was into.

He had noticed it one night, as they sat on the couch with takeout containers in their laps, a random documentary on space missions playing on the screen.

“You know, we don’t always have to watch what I want” he said, glancing over at her.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful smirk. “Oh, so you do get bored of these documentaries too?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No, I’m just saying, you don’t have to sit through this if you don’t want to.”

She leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before settling back against the couch. “I don’t mind,” she said simply. “Besides, watching you get all excited about it makes it worth it.”

It was such a small thing, something most people wouldn’t even think twice about. But She wasn’t just with him for the big moments—the wins, the parties, the glamorous lifestyle.

She was there for the quiet nights on the couch, for the moments when it was just them, being themselves.

And there were the harder times, the moments when life tried to pull them apart.

Like when he had been away for a few weeks, consumed by the demands of racing, and she had been dealing with her own stresses back home.

They had fought—really fought—for the first time in a while. He had been short with her on the phone, and she had snapped back, both of them too exhausted to think straight.

He remembered calling her later that night, after everything had calmed down. His heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her to pick up, unsure of what to say, unsure if she’d even want to talk to him.

But she had answered, her voice soft and tired. “Hey.”

Lewis exhaled, relief washing over him at the sound of her voice. “I’m sorry” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I was being an ass, and I hate that we’re fighting. I hate that I’m not there with you.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, he thought he’d messed it all up. But then she spoke, her voice quiet but steady.

“I hate it too,” she admitted. “But I know you’re doing what you love, and I love you for that. I just... I need to know that when all of this is done, you’ll still come back to me.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected. And that’s when he knew—she wasn’t just his safe place. He was hers too.

And of course, there was the night he was sure.

The night he knew without a doubt that he couldn’t imagine a life without her.

They had been lying in bed, the city lights filtering in through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. Y/n was curled up against him, her head resting on his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

They weren’t talking—just lying there in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

After a long stretch of silence, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think we’ll always be like this?”

Lewis looked down at her, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

She shifted slightly, her gaze still focused on the rise and fall of his chest. “I mean... us. Do you think we’ll always be this close? This... in love?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” he said softly, his fingers brushing through her hair. “I do.”

She looked up at him then, her eyes searching his face as if she were looking for something. And whatever it was, she found it, because she smiled—a soft, almost wistful smile.

“Good,” she whispered, settling back against him. “Because I don’t ever want to be without you.”

And now, as Lewis sat in the plush chair, staring down at the array of engagement rings designs laid out before him on the velvet tray, all those moments flashed through his mind.

And he realized he wasn’t overwhelmed by the choices; he was overwhelmed by the gravity of what that ring would symbolize.

"Mr. Hamilton," the designer said from across the table, his voice calm, professional. "You mentioned wanting something unique. Something that reflects your relationship with Y/n. I can help you with that, but how would you describe your love, as in one sentence?"

He looked down at the designs again, his mind filled with the memories of their time together— every laugh, every argument, every quiet moment that build on the decision he’d known for so long.  

A delicate twisted band with intertwined diamonds caught his eye, reminding him of the nights she would trace lazy patterns on his skin, their fingers intertwining.

And when he finally looked up, meeting the designer’s gaze, he smiled. “Our love is... my greatest victory.”

And she was his forever.

______________________________________________________________

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[perfctvelvet]

Can u pls do a threesome fic with Sabrina Carpenter? She’s my favourite at the moment

One, Two, Three; Sabrina Carpenter/Fem!Reader/Olivia Rodrigo

Content: 2nd POV. PWP, threesome, strap-on sex, fingering, nipple play.

A/N: I had like two other requests for a Sabrina/Olivia threesome so I'm just combining them into one ask :)

You told them that it wasn't a competition, and they shouldn't treat it as such. Their dislike for each other was still palpable, but if you were to tell them the truth it was that you didn't care for either of the deeper feelings they harbored for each other. Being friends with both of them gave you a unique expressive; you thought they should get over it. Right now none of that mattered, you just wanted to get laid. They happened to be the only people available when you called to alleviate your Saturday night boredom.

Olivia had asked for reassurance that if she went participated she wouldn't have to do anything with Sabrina. You told her that was completely fine but something must've switched in her brain because she lays under Sabrina, her pink nipple in her mouth while you stand behind the blonde and fill her with the inches of your strap-on. Maybe a threesome was a good exercise in getting along. Sabrina was too lost in the feeling of your hips smacking against her ass to care about her issues in the past with Olivia. She was adding to her pleasure, sucking her tits while you pounded her, so the least she could do was show her gratitude. She pries Olivia's legs open with just one hand and finds her pussy. Her slender fingers rub her clit for a few seconds, as a warm up, before sliding into her opening. Sabrina felt a little smug feeling how wet Olivia was. Her pussy was warm and inviting of her fingers.

Seeing the get along and play nice had you feeling a little proud of yourself. If this was a few months or even a year ago this would've never happened. Time heals all wounds they same. Maybe a threesome with your shared fuck buddy does too. You fear there would be some weirdness to this that would ruin the night, but Olivia and Sabrina seemed to be enjoying each other more than you. They were making out, something initiated by Olivia, while you were still inside of Sabrina.

You slowed down your thrusts into Sabrina before completely pulling out. The two were still making out with Sabrina completely unphased by the action. Dare you say you were...jealous? You can't even count on two hands the number of times you've fucked Sabrina all those times you two were single at the same time she was always so needy. She would whine at a simple pause in thrust and the complete absence would make her beg for it. But she was too occupied with her tongue down Olivia's throat to complain. When she moaned it was because Olivia caressed one of her boobs, her thumb brushing against her hard but sore nipple.

To take control again you switched positions. You sat against the couch with the two on either side of her. Sabrina's juices made your strap slick and shine in the light. Olivia grabs it by the base and wraps her lips around the tip before you even have to ask her.

"Good girl," you purr. If Sabrina was usually the needy one, Olivia was the obedient one.

"I bet she never thought she'd lick me off of your cock," that teasing side comes out of Sabrina. It's the side that you sometimes have to fuck out of her.

You give her a look, one that tells her to 'play nice.'

"You better get down there before she takes it all."

Sabrina gives her a small pout, but when she looks down at Olivia with the strap down her throat she feels like she's missing out. Olivia looks up at her and beckons her over. Sabrina joins her with a big smile on her face. She sticks out her tongue and Olivia taps the strap against her tongue. Her favorite thing in the world was tasting herself off of your strap-on, but everything was so much sweeter when it was Olivia who was the one feeding it to her. Olivia grabs the back of Sabrina's head and pushes it down on the strap. It happened so quickly that the air rushed out of her mouth when the tip hit the back of Sabrina's throat. She gagged on it and a felt tears well in her eyes. She was always so good at taking every inch in both her mouth and pussy, but Olivia's action had surprised. It was a little mean, Olivia would admit, but she liked seeing how the tears mixed with Sabrina's eyeliner and ruined her pretty little face.

She does it once more before letting up on the blonde and going back for another taste of the strap. She sucks on the sides and Sabrina does the same. Their tongues occasionally bump together as the dance around the sides of the strap, collecting every job of Sabrina's arousal that is left. Olivia moaned at the taste which delighted Sabrina to her core. She wasn't just enjoying your company, but also Olivia's.

Now it was Olivia's turn. Watching you fuck Sabrina left her feeling insatiable. The blonde was a bit of a cock-hog and Olivia didn't say anything about it, but now she was making sure she was getting some fun too. She straddles you, Sabrina holding the strap still for her and guiding it towards her wet pussy. The tip spreads her open and she eases herself down, inch by inch, until she was fully in your lap. It might've been the biggest thing she's ever taken in her pussy and it was pure heaven. She grabbed onto the edge of the couch behind your head and turned her head and looked down to try to watch herself take your strap.

"Move on her strap Livvy," Sabrina encourages her. Her hand landed on Olivia's ass to guide her up and down. You laid back as Olivia did all of the work. She worked herself up to a steady pace, one that made her a moaning mess. "Ride her dick baby," Sabrina continues. She loved seeing Olivia work hard to make herself cum.

Her tits were right in your face so you took one of her nipples into your mouth. You didn't think Olivia could moan any louder but her voice filled the walls of your bedroom. She fucked herself hard on your strap, but it wasn't until your grabbed her ass with both hands that it was really rough. Each poke at her sweet spot brought her closer to cumming. She could feel Sabrina's hands on her, touching every inch of her exposed skin and occasionally slapping her ass. The force she used told Olivia that even though she was playing "nice", she was still going to find out a way to take out some of her aggression. It's only fair for what Olivia did earlier.

Olivia is going to be a little embarrassed later to admit that the stinging pain from Sabrina's hand caused such a rush in her body that she came right then and there. The last moan to leave her body was weak and pitchy. You know from your times alone before that she was cumming, but Sabrina watched in awe as Olivia came. She felt totally responsible for it and it went straight to her ego

[blakeswritingimagines]

Kissing over their scars

Aegon: The touch of your lips on his scars is one that gives him chills each time. It not only feels physically good to have your attention on those marks on his body but also emotionally. It makes him feel loved and desired, even with such imperfections.

Aemond: He appreciates that you are not repulsed by his scars. He is thankful for your acceptance and appreciates your desire to caress the area surrounding them. While he feels uncomfortable discussing the details of the injury itself, he is not opposed to the showing of affection to that specific part of his body.

Jacaerys: As Jacaerys felt the touch of his partner's lips upon his scars, the sensations stirred beneath his skin. The memories and pain that were once associated with those scars turned to comfort and warmth. He knew that you understood his past and accepted him for who he was. As you continued to kiss, he let go of the pain and embraced your love.

Lucerys: He would blush madly, feeling a rush of both happiness and embarrassment. His scars represent a dark, painful chapter of his life, and he wouldn't want anyone to know the full truth. But the feeling of someone close to him kissing them would be so sweet and intimate that he would find it hard to look away. He might even move around slightly to give you better access to his scars.

Rhaenyra: If you were to kiss her scars, she would likely react by being both surprised and touched. She may pull away at first out of surprise, but if she felt a deep connection with you, she would likely lean into your affection and allow you to continue. This would be a deeply intimate and meaningful moment for her, as it would show her that you are accepting and supportive of all parts of her and your relationship. She may also feel a sense of vulnerability in allowing someone else to see her scars, which could further strengthen your bond.

Daemon: As the warm caress of your lips lingered on each scar, he couldn't help but close his eyes and revel in the sensations. The comfort and connection of your touch were more potent than any pain or fear he had before. Time seemed to stand still as you slowly embraced him with an intimate kiss. He leaned into you, feeling a deep sense of vulnerability but also trust. Your mouth, warm and supple, teased a deep and primal desire within. His entire frame was awash with pleasure until you pulled back, and he opened his eyes slowly looking at you with a smile on his face.

Alicent: Her face reddens at the boldness of the action, the surprise and pleasure from the kiss combined. She moves slightly closer to you, wanting more contact and intimacy. She can feel her face heat up, and she closes her eyes for a moment when the kisses end, to savor the sensation for a little longer. She wants you to keep kissing them, wanting to keep feeling your soft lips on her scars. The sensation is so powerful that it makes her forget her previous shyness and pulls you closer.

Helena: As you kiss her scars, she'll close her eyes and allow herself to be vulnerable and feel the moment. The light caress of your lips awakens something deep within her soul. She longs for the intimacy of your connection. Her body reacts to the touch of your lips, and she knows you feel it, too. She opened her eyes slowly and met your gaze, your faces so close to each other that you could kiss. It is only a matter of time, she thinks to herself. She leans in and...

Harwin: The first time he was kissed on his scars, he felt a mixture of emotions. On one hand, he was happy to be loved and accepted for his flaws. But on the other hand, he felt very vulnerable and exposed. The kiss reminded him that even though he had overcome difficult times in his life, the scars were still visible, and it was still a part of his past. He was also reminded that someone else knew the pain he had endured and that someone else's lips could heal what once had cut deep and wounded him.

Cregan: Kisses on his scars bring a warm and intimate feeling, as if you doing it is showing your affection and appreciation for him and his past. Each scar marks a unique experience, and it brings him joy to know that you appreciate and value these experiences as much as he does. He is always reminded of your care and attention towards him whenever you kiss or touch his scars, and it brings him deep satisfaction to know that he is being loved and accepted despite the physical flaws and imperfections.

Criston: He is taken aback by the sudden contact, but slowly begins to relax once he realizes the care and love underlying the act. He may blush at the unexpected attention, and his heartbeat quickens out of anticipation. The sensation of your soft lips on his damaged flesh sends tingles throughout his body, and he'll find himself longing for more.

[hihomeghere]

Baptized by Fire | Arthur Morgan x reader x Charles Smith

After running from your past you find yourself facing certain death out in a blizzard. Thankfully you’re rescued, but what happens when you have to ride out the rest of the winter with the two men who rescued you? An RDR2 AU where Arthur followed Charles to Canada. No Y/N. All five chapters combined into one fic

Word Count : 22k

Warnings/tags : Abuse, bruises, blood, guns, death, religious themes, nudity, oral m!receiving, unprotected piv, cursing, allusions to sex, skinning animals for meat, smoke inhalation, dead body, mention of gunshot wound, reader has female genitalia and is referred to as ‘she’, cursing, Arthur had TB but survived and now has chronic issues because of it, let me know if I missed any

Dividers by @saradika

Minors do not interact!

You had never cared for the cold. Why your family had decided to settle where the ground was covered in frost and snow most months out of the year was beyond you. You tried your hardest to spend as little time outside during the winter months. Taking as long as possible to complete your tasks inside before venturing out into the cold, even if it cost you a beating. Now you found yourself completely at a blizzard's mercy. The wind was nearly deafening, the force of it causing you to stumble through the thick blanket of snow. Your boots doing little to keep out the cold, having lost feeling in your toes shortly after you ran from the one place you had called home. 

If you could even call it ‘home’. The events of the last day playing over in your mind. Your fathers words echoing in your ears.

“Damn stupid child!” He yelled, his words slurred as he stumbled towards you. You ran to get out of his grasp, his hand grabbing a hold of your hair. You yelped, tears stinging your eyes as you were pulled back into his chest. Your scalp ached as he pulled your head back at an unnatural angle. “You never done me any good, never!” He hissed in your ear, his breath reeking of liquor. You felt the hot tears roll down your cheeks as you clawed at the hand holding your hair. Successfully digging your nails into his flesh as he cried out in pain, throwing you to the floor. 

“Fucking bitch!” He spit, his foot landing a blow to your ribs, leaving you gasping for breath. “It’d do you good to learn some damn respect!” He spit, turning his back to you as he went to grab another bottle. You clutched at your side, sucking in any air that you could use to fill your lungs. Each breath burning like hot coals.

Your hands grabbed for anything to help you get back to your feet. Wrapping around the back of a chair as you pulled yourself to your feet. What happened next was a blur. You didn’t even realize you had grabbed the shotgun off the mantle until it kicked back. Your arms aching as you stumbled backwards. Your finger falling off the trigger as your back hit the wall. Your eyes fell upon the body of your father, gasping on the ground. Blood pooling under him as his mouth opened and closed like a damn fish. 

The gun slipped out of your grasp as your hands flew to cover your mouth. Bile spewed between your fingers as it shot up your throat and out your mouth. You gagged and spit, collapsing in on yourself as you sunk to the floor. Tears stinging your eyes as you retched.

You don’t know how long you watched him. Each slow breath was accompanied by the sick gurgle of blood. At some point the sound stopped, along with his heart. Whether it was minutes or hours later you didn’t know. What you did know was something made you run. It could have been the sickly stench of blood, or his cold unblinking stare. Perhaps it was the knowledge that there was now no undoing what was done. That you had fought and now you were fleeing.

You had left the house with only the clothes on your back. A terribly foolish thing in hindsight. Now you were going to meet a similar fate as your father, freezing to death out in the cold. At least someone would find your fathers body, yours on the other hand would be lost until spring. Even then, it was more likely for an animal to find it than a person. The thought of some animal gnawing on your bones sent a shiver up your spine that had nothing to do with the freezing temperatures. You clutched your hands together, trying to rub feeling back into your fingers, but to no avail. Your legs would no longer move, fighting against the signals sent by your brain. 

Up ahead sat a dark figure on a horse, a pale horse. The snow seemingly parted around him as he approached.

This was it. Death had come to claim your soul. You would die frozen and a murderer. God have mercy on you.

-

If you were in hell, the flames of damnation were much more pleasant than painful. The crackling of the fire was almost comforting, and the heat was heavenly. You blinked your eyes open, the flames in the fireplace dancing before you. You relished in the feeling of the warm pelts draped over your bare body. Bare body? Your cheeks burned as you pulled the furs tighter around you. Whoever had rescued you, if you could call it a rescue, you hadn’t decided yet- had stripped you as well. 

“Charles, she’s awake.” A gruff southern voice cut through your thoughts. Your head snapped in the direction of the sound, fear shot through you like a lightning strike as your eyes landed on a man sitting in a rocking chair. 

A man had rescued you. A man had stripped you.The fire no longer eased the trembling of your body as you scrambled backwards. Backing yourself into a corner.

His lips were set in a thin line, light stubble dusting his face. His blue eyes pierced through you as you meet his gaze. Something about him seemed so familiar, although his piercing gaze made you lower your eyes. 

The other man’s, Charles, heavy footsteps caught your attention as he walked over to the unnamed man. Dark skin, long hair, chestnut brown eyes. A scar that ran along his cheek like a lightning strike. Not one but two men.

“So she is.” He said to his partner, eyeing you like you might bolt any second. Which you had thought about, but you could still hear the storm raging outside. It would be a death wish to go out in that again, you realized that now. “Excuse me miss?” Charles asked, raising his eyebrows as he tilted his head slightly.

You swallow thickly, only realizing how damn dry your throat was as you tried to speak.

“Where am I?” You asked, trying to put on a false front of confidence as you pulled the skins tighter around your body.

“About a mile north of where I found you out stumbling in the snow.” Charles answered, taking a tentative step toward you.

“Where are my clothes?” You asked, your stomach dropping as he inched closer. You pulled the furs tighter around your naked body, knowing full well that either of them could easily overpower you. If they wanted to carry out some sick and twisted torture, you would be at their mercy. 

Charles raised his hands in a small surrender, “There, had to hang them up to dry.” He said, motioning to a primitive clothesline near the fire. Something you must have missed when crawling away from them. “The fire wouldn’t have done you any good if you were in those wet clothes. It’s why we… well you know.” He said, “They should be dry by now, you were out for quite awhile.” Your eyes flick between the two men and your clothes. Charles takes two steps back, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor of the cabin. You scrambled forward, snatching your clothes off the line before retreating back to your corner. The other man scoffs, crossing his arms as he looks out the window at the storm.

“The hell were you doing out in the middle of a goddamn blizzard with nothin’?” 

“Arthur-“ Charles' warning tone cut through the cabin as he met Arthur’s eyes.

“It’s an honest question.” He huffed as he looked up at Charles, his jaw set. “No one would go out into something like that if they weren’t runnin’ from somethin’.” He said, giving Charles a look. You swallowed thickly, pursing your lips as the two men seemed to communicate without speaking.

“What were you doing out there then?” You asked, breaking the tense silence. “Were you running from something?”

“I wasn’t the one who was out there.” He hissed, turning his fierce gaze back to you.

“I was.” Charles answered, so he was the one who rescued you.

“If it was me I would have left your sorry ass out there.” Arthur mumbled, Charles shot him a glare before he looked back at you. 

“I got lost.” You said, pulling your warm clothes against your body.

“Yeah no shit.” Arthur huffed, “But that don’t answer my question. What were you doing out there in the first place?” He said, narrowing his eyes. 

“I-“

“She’s been through enough hasn’t she?” Charles cut you off, his baritone voice raising as he glared at Arthur. Arthur clenched his jaw, matching Charles glare. A moment passed as the two glared at each other before Arthur’s shoulders softened, letting out a sigh as he sat back in the rocking chair. Whatever unspoken argument they had had, Charles had won. “Why don’t you put some clothes on and we can have a civilized conversation.” Charles said, shooting Arthur a look.

You stared at the two men, frozen in their gaze.

“Oh for Christsake.” Arthur huffed before turning his head away from you. Charles followed suit, averting his eyes. You hastily put on your clothes, the residual warmth from the fire seeping into your bones. 

“You can look now.” You said, once you were fully clothed. Arthur let out a sigh, his gaze falling on you once more. 

“You’ll have to put up with us until the storm passes.” Charles said, crossing his arms as he looked at you. Sensing your unease he spoke again, “I know you have no reason to trust us, but we did save your life. Not to mention, if we wanted to hurt you we would have by now.” He said with a small shrug. You couldn’t deny the truth. They had seen you naked and at your most vulnerable, and they had done nothing to harm you. In fact, they had done everything to help you.

You were a fool for thinking you could survive on your own. You had no money, leaving all your possessions at your fathers house. The only clothes you had were the ones on your back. You regretted not thinking it through, not having a plan, but you didn’t regret taking that shotgun off the mantle.

“I won’t- I won’t be a burden to you two.” You said swallowing thickly. Arthur scoffed under his breath. “I can cook, clean, and mend anything that needs it.” You said, reinforcing your statement as your cheeks burned.

“It won’t be necessary.” Charles said, shaking his head.

“I insist.” You said cutting him off as you caught Arthur’s eye.

“If she insists, let the little lady help out.” Arthur said, leaning back in his chair with an amused smile on his lips.

-

Over the next couple of days you learned all the ins and outs of the small cabin. There was a main great room, with two bedrooms off of it. 

Charles had given up his bed, letting you take over one of the bedrooms. Said he wouldn’t mind sleeping on a cot in Arthur’s room. You had assumed the two men had been living together longer than they’d had this cabin. They had most likely been sharing close quarters for awhile. Charles' style seemed to be minimal, the only personal items being a family picture and a few beaded necklaces. The room was hardly lived in, you supposed it was only used to sleep in. You didn’t dare ask to go into Arthur’s room, not wanting to spread what little hospitality he had towards you too thin.

Arthur had hardly warmed up to you over the few days you had been stuck together. He didn’t leave his chair often, and when he did he grumbled about his pains. Something about the cold caused his body to ache, you didn’t push for more information. Because of this he moved the rocking chair closer to the fireplace, which was always lit. You’d catch him staring off into the flames, an almost melancholy expression on his face. 

You did your best not to be caught staring at the handsome man, he didn’t take too kindly to you ‘watching him’.

Charles wasn’t necessarily more talkative than his counterpart, but he didn’t mind your eyes on him. He tried in his own ways to loosen the tension between the three of you. He had taken you up on your offer to cook, although he couldn’t seem to stay out of the kitchen. Whether that be helping you chop up vegetables, or just to share your company. 

Although he would leave for an hour or two every day to tend to the livestock they kept. you had learned that that was why Charles had been out in the storm that night. One of their cows had escaped the barn, instead Charles had brought you home. 

“Charles.” Arthur pleaded, his voice low as he stood nearly chest to chest with Charles. He had been in the middle of putting on his snow gear when Arthur had stopped him.

“How many times do we gotta have this conversation?” Charles sighed, shaking his head. You pretended not to notice the tense moment between the two of them. 

“I’m fine.” Arthur huffed, his hand brushing against Charles only for a moment before he crossed his arms, taking a step back. 

“You're not.” He huffed, “It’s about as cold as Colter out there. We hardly survived that last time and now with your-“

“Fine.” Arthur snapped, storming back to the rocking chair. Charles sighed, hesitating by the door before he continued suiting up.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two.” Charles said to the two of you. You gave him a small smile, Arthur on the other hand pretended he hadn’t heard him.

It was silent after Charles left. Arthur scribbled away at his journal while you tidied up around the cabin. You didn’t mind the work, you hadn’t wanted to take advantage of their kindness. You were dusting the mantle above the fireplace, clearing away tiny spiderwebs. Gently moving two hand carved wooden sculptures. One a bison, the other a buck with a great set of antlers. When your eyes fell on a rather detailed drawing of a small family. A man, with dark hair and jagged scars across his face. The woman with as equally dark hair, her hand resting on the shoulder of a young boy. 

“Is this your family?” The question left your lips before you had the chance to think twice about opening your mouth. 

Arthur’s expression darkened as he raised his eyes from the page. 

“Sort of.” He grumbled, letting out a sigh. He got up, walking over to you before taking the drawing off the mantle. He stared at it for a moment before his gaze shifted back over to meet yours. “My brother.” He said pointing to the man with the scars, “His wife and son.” His jaw was clenched tight as he set the drawing back in its place. 

“What happened to them?” You asked, looking up into his stormy blue eyes.

“What happens to all of us.” He sighed. 

“I’m sorry.” You said softly, looking up at their smiling faces. He grunted, but it quickly turned into a nasty dry cough. He doubled over, holding onto the mantle as he sputtered. 

“Are you alright?” You asked, your brows pulling together as you placed your hand on his shoulder. He tensed under your hand, his body shaking as pounded on his chest.

“Fine.” He said, clearing his throat. You removed your hand from his shoulder, feeling a deep pull in your belly as you stepped back. You bumped into his chair, catching yourself on the wooden back. Your eyes fell onto the open journal on the seat. Arthur followed your gaze, scrambling to close the book.

“Oh I-“ Heat flooded your cheeks, “don’t worry I can’t read.” You chuckled nervously as you looked down.

“You can’t-“ Arthur stuttered, his eyebrows pinched together as he looked at you in disbelief. “No one… no one ever taught you?” He asked. 

“No, no my father he-“ You bit your bottom lip, your gaze on the wooden floor, “he didn’t think a woman should be educated.” You mumbled. 

“What a goddamn simpleton.” He growled, clenching his jaw. His expression set into a scowl as he stood there with his hands on his hips. You raised your head to meet his eyes, a nervous smile on your lips as you tried to play it off.

“It’s alright.” You said, shaking your head, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. It would get you out of this pointless conversation. It wasn’t like you could attend school, not at your age. 

“No it ain’t alright.” He huffed, closing his eyes as though it was physically paining him. “You- you ought to know how to read and write. Everyone should.” He said, shaking his head. He coughed again, although this time it seemed almost forced. It was quiet for a moment. The only sound was the crackling fire as the two of you avoided each other's gaze. 

”I could teach you.” He mumbled.

“You could?” Your eyes widening at his offer.

“It ain’t nothin’.” He said, crossing his arms, looking off to the side. “We can start tomorrow.”

“Thank you- I mean it, thank you Arthur.” 

“Don’t thank me,” He said, shaking his head as he picked up his journal. “I haven’t taught you anything yet.”

The cabin door swung open, the howling of the wind only intensifying without a barrier. Charles quickly entered, shutting the door behind him as he wiped snow off of his clothes and hat. He glanced between you and Arthur.

“Storm might break tonight.” He said, pulling off his gloves as he set them down on the kitchen table. 

“Finally some good news round here.” Arthur said, sitting back down in the rocking chair.

-

The three of you sat down for supper at the wooden table in the middle of the cabin. You and Charles had managed to put together a nice stew. Thankfully the two of them understood the power of stocking up for winter. Something your father on the other hand did not. By early spring your clothes had normally begun to be too big on your frame, needing to be taken in to fit you. If you were to stay the rest of the winter you had no doubt you would have the opposite problem. The thought of staying with Arthur and Charles had become more and more appealing every day. Especially now that you might have the chance to better yourself. Learning to read and write, the thought of being able to pick up a book and actually understand the words. A smile twisted at your lips as you tried to hide your eagerness. 

“I was thinking about bringing the tub in.” Charles said, breaking the silence as his spoon scraped along the bowl. “Might take awhile to fill it but it’d be worth it.” He said, shoveling a spoonful of stew into his mouth as he shrugged. 

“Is it still on the porch?” Arthur asked, his tone almost aloof as he leaned back in his chair. Charles nodded, not raising his head to meet Arthur’s piercing gaze. 

“Do you suppose I could wash up, too?” You asked, looking from one man to the other. They shared a look, before turning back to you.

“I don’t see why not.” Charles nodded, “You can take the first bath.” Returning his attention back to his bowl. 

-

Arthur retired to his room as soon as the last bucket of hot water was added to the tub. Giving you privacy as he awaited his turn in the water.

You stood beside the tub, hesitating as you looked into the steaming water. You would have to wash your clothes in the tub along with your body. While you hadn’t necessarily been thinking when you ran out into the blizzard. You wished you would have had some forethought to pack a bag. It wasn’t like you could just hang your wet clothes by the fire and walk around the damn cabin naked. The thought of the two men seeing you like that once more sent heat throughout your body.

“Everything alright?” Charles' deep voice cut through your thoughts as he set the bucket down.

“I-I don’t have any clean clothes.” You said after a moment, rubbing your arms. Charles' head perked up at this, his eyebrows raising.

“Of course,” He said, his expression returning to a neutral one, “I can get you some of ours to wear while you clean yours.” He got to his feet, “Don’t undress just yet, I’ll be back.” He said before walking into Arthur’s room. You let your hand fall into the water, testing the temperature. Almost letting out a small moan as the warmth enveloped your hand. You couldn’t wait to climb in.

Charles returned with a sheepish smile, holding a flannel shirt and pants.

“I doubt you’ll fit into the pants but it’s the best we could do on short notice.” He chuckled, handing them to you. You grabbed them, your fingers brushing against his, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“Thank you.” You said covering the hitch of your breath with a small cough.

“You’re welcome.” He said with a small nod, turning his broad back to you as he walked back to his room. “Knock against the wall once you are done.” He said before heading inside.

You set the fresh clothes beside the tub, your fingers unable to work as fast enough as you shedded your own. Unable to wait any longer, you stepped into the warm water. Your nipples hardened at the sudden shift in temperature.

This time you couldn’t contain the pleased hum that left your lips as you sank down into the water. The burn was pleasant on your sore body, easing the ache in your ribs. You grabbed the soap off the chair beside the tub. Lathering it up in your hands before you scrubbed your body. The marks along your ribs were no longer an angry purple. Now they were fading into a pale yellow. 

You were thankful neither Charles or Arthur had said anything about them. It was embarrassing enough to take those beatings. Pointing them out would have been like rubbing salt in the wound. 

But there would be no more beatings. No more. You were free, you could start over. You started to form a plan, cleansing yourself of your old life so you could start anew.

A baptism of fire. Once you could read and write, or once the snow melted enough, you would return home. You would bury your father, or feed him to the wolves, and start your new life.

You were thoroughly pruney when you got out of the tub. Quickly dressing and rushing to ‘your’ room. You knocked against the wall once, running your fingers through your hair as you prepared for bed. 

You felt like a new person as you climbed under the mismatched quilt. You could hear Arthur, or maybe it was Charles, moving around in the living room. No doubt getting undressed and getting into the warm water. The wind no longer howled at the window, Charles was right about the storm breaking.

Although now you could clearly hear voices whispering in the main room. You knew you shouldn’t have listened, should have just ignored it and went back to bed. 

Instead, you pulled back the blankets and slipped out of bed. You crept over to the door, pressing your ear against it.

“Don’t call me that.” Arthur huffed, his voice muffled by the door 

“Why not? It’s not like she’s here.” Charles responded.

“Enough about her, can’t we just- just enjoy our time without her.” He grumbled. Your brows pinched together, a frown tugging at your lips. You didn’t think you were that annoying. You had tried to be helpful, you thought that they might have even been thankful for what you had done. Instead they couldn’t wait to get rid of you.

“Fine.” Charles said, letting out a sigh. You could hear the water sloshing around in the tub. “We can’t send her out on her own.”

“You think I don't know that?” Arthur hissed, “But she shouldn’t- she shouldn’t be here with us.”

“And why not?”

“Because she’s good, Charles.” He paused, coughing. “She’s good and you know the kind of people we are.” It was silent, the only thing you could hear was your breathing. 

What did he mean ‘kind of people they are’? They had been nothing but respectful and hospitable people. Or so you thought. 

“We aren't those people anymore-“

“You were always a better man than me- my sins, I can’t just-“ you heard a splash, “wash the blood off my hands.” You covered your mouth, dampening the small gasp that left your lips. A killer, you were staying with criminals. Although, were you any different? You were a murderer, killing your father without a second thought.

“Stop.” Another pause, “We did what we had to survive.”

“Don’t give me that shit-“ he’s overcome by another coughing fit. “What I did- that was for my own gain, and I’m paying for it every day.”

“Enough.” Charles cut him off, “Enough about her.” 

You pulled back from the door, crawling back to your bed as silently as possible. You had heard enough. This didn’t change anything, you reminded yourself, your plan was the same. Once you were able, you would leave this cabin and never look back

It wasn’t the normal glaring sunlight that woke Charles up that morning as he blinked awake. It was the howling of the wind, damn near rattling the windows. The storm was only getting worse, the snow piling up outside their small cabin. He let out a small groan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Arthur was curled around him, his arm wrapped lazily around Charles waist. His lips parted like two rose petals as a snore left them. He chuckled softly, partaking in his favorite pastime, studying Arthur. How his skin was weathered by the sun, his cheeks lightly dusted with freckles. How hair never grew over his scar on his chin. Trailing his eyes over the crooked bridge of his nose, never set right after being broken more times than he wanted to know.

Charles’ heart warmed in his chest, caught aflame by the sight of his lover. He ran his thumb over Arthur’s lip, smirking as his brows furrowed in his sleep. Arthur let out a small groan of protest as he turned his face into Charles’ chest. 

“C’mon now.” Charles said, chuckling softly, “We ought to get up.”

“Who says?” Arthur mumbled, his words muffled against Charles’ bare chest

“I do.” He laughed

“When’d you become such a hard ass.” Arthur teased, smirking as his bright blue eyes found Charles.

“When did I meet you again?” He asked, pretending to ponder the question. Arthur rolled his eyes, moving his hand from Charles' waist up his chest. Lightly brushing against his nipple. “You start that again and we’re never gonna leave this damn bed.” He warned.

“That’d be quite a shame.” Arthur smirked, leaning in to nip at Charles’ earlobe. “Why don’t you ride me this morning, partner.” He hummed, pressing open mouthed kisses down Charles’ throat. 

A pleased hum rumbled through Charles' chest, his large hands gripping Arthur’s bare waist. He could feel Arthur’s growing erection, hot and heavy against his thigh. The soft velvety skin seeking friction against his body. 

“Damn it,” He sighed, leaning his head back against the pillow. “Later.” He growled, grabbing a handful of Arthur’s ass. Arthur’s brows pinched together in a small wince, something Charles picked up on immediately. “Was I too rough last night?” He asked, his playful tone replaced by concern as his brows pinched together. 

“You know I liked it.” Arthur grinned, “Just sore s’all.” He shrugged, kissing Charles' collarbone. 

“Arthur-“

“Oh don’t you ‘Arthur’ me.” He huffed, rolling his eyes, “I ain’t some damn porcelain doll.”

“I know you aren’t, you stubborn fool.” Charles said, rolling his eyes, “Doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned.”

“There ain’t nothin’ to be concerned about! I’m fine, I swear it!” Arthur said, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Now get going big fella or we won’t get nothin’ done today.” Arthur said, shooing him out of bed. 

-

“I shouldn’t be gone long.” Charles said as he put on his gloves, feeling Arthur’s eyes.

“I’ll be here.” Arthur sighed. If his gruff voice wasn’t an indication of his displeasure of being left, yet again, the not so subtle pout of his definitely was. His journal sat open on his lap, his fingertips darkened by the charcoal as he sketched away at the paper. Charles nodded, pulling his hat down as he braced himself for the cutting wind. Opening up the door, his hand shielded his eyes as he trudged through the snow. With each step he sank further into the white powder, his legs already aching. The wind biting at his cheeks and nose as he made his way to the barn. 

His stomach dropped as he saw the open door. He picked up his feet, rushing inside the barn. He counted the cattle even though he knew that damn bull was long gone.

In his haste to sink into Arthur’s body last night he must not have shut the barn door all the way. They had been having trouble with this damn beast ever since they purchased him. Constantly plowing through fences and running off. Arthur had got so damn angry last time he had threatened to kill the bastard.

Charles made sure the rest of the cows were there and fed before he trekked back to the house. 

“Damn bull got out again.” Charles huffed as he closed the door to the main cabin. The heat from the cabin burned his face and hands.

“You shittin’ me?” Arthur asked, letting out a frustrated huff. 

“Wish I was.” Charles said, shaking his head.

“You gonna go after ‘im?” Arthur asked, getting to his feet, “Want me to ride with ya?” Charles could tell how bad he was itching to get out of the cabin. Arthur couldn’t stand to be cooped up for too long, something ingrained in him with how often the gang used to move around. 

Although Charles had put his foot down about Arthur going out when the weather got bad. Last time Arthur had ventured out to tend to the livestock he came down with something. Not as bad as the tuberculosis, but it scared Charles all the same. 

He was holed up in bed for a week, a fever burning through him and coughing up a lung. By the time his fever broke, Arthur had soaked all the sheets they owned with his sweat.

He didn’t give a damn how much he pouted, there was no way Arthur was going out in this storm.

“Don’t know if it’s worth it.” He said crossing his arms, “Only thing that damn animal has brought us is a headache.” He ran his hand through his hair. 

“We could always just butcher him, find that little bastard and make a new rug.” He shrugged, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Suppose we could.” Charles chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m gonna head out, see if I can pick up his tracks.”

“Take Buell, poor boy could use the exercise.” Arthur called over his shoulder. Charles nodded, walking over to Arthur. He bent down, cupping his cheek before pressing his lips against his. It didn’t matter how many times they collided like this. Charles always managed to steal his breath away, leaving him gasping for more. He wondered if Charles was his ruin and cure all at the same time. 

Arthur smirked as he pulled away, “I haven’t forgotten about your promise from this morning.” He said, gently tugging at his hair.

“I won’t be long.” Charles promised, his own smirk stretching across his face.

He had picked up somewhat of a trail. He supposed that that damn bull had gotten out shortly after he and Arthur went to bed. The snow had covered most of the tracks, and what it didn’t, the wind washed away. 

Buell snorted, pawing at the powdered snow as Charles urged him forward. 

“C’mon boy.” He said softly, patting the steeds' thick neck. His hands ached in his gloves, but at least he hadn’t lost feeling in them yet. He narrowed his gaze, his eyes watering as he looked across the frozen countryside. 

He caught sight of something, something much smaller than a bull. His heart leapt into his throat as the small being collapsed in the snow. He dug his heels into Buell’s side, the horse instantly picking up speed as they raced towards whoever was stupid enough to be walking around in a blizzard.

He jumped off, gathering the person in his arms. A woman, whose clothes were covered in icicles. Her eyelashes nearly frozen together with tears. 

He tore his coat off, a shiver running down his spine as he wrapped it around her. If he didn’t get her out of this cold, and fast, she’d die. 

He slung her over his shoulder as he mounted Buell. Maneuvering her into a bridal style carry as he rode back towards the cabin. 

“You find ‘im?” Arthur asked, not raising his head from his journal as the cabin door swung open. Still not over getting left behind, again.

“Not exactly.” Charles huffed, rushing towards the roaring fire. He laid the woman down on the rug, biting the fingers of his glove as he tore them off.

“Jesus Charles!” Arthur exclaimed, his journal clattering to the floor as he stood. 

“Help me get her clothes off.” Charles ordered, working the buttons of her blouse through the eyelets. 

“Oh dammit.” He sighed, frozen as he stared at the woman.

“You want a dead body on our hands!” Charles barked, shooting Arthur a glare. “Help me god dammit.” Arthur sank to his knees, pulling the woman’s frozen skirt off her body. 

“Furs, she needs furs.” He mumbled, stumbling to his feet as he raced to their bedroom. Charles’ heart sank as he bared her upper body. 

“Shit.” He mumbled, tracing his finger against the dark purple mark.

“Oh hell.” Arthur said as he returned, his eyes falling on the young woman. “Now who would…” He clenched his jaw, rushing over to the woman. Wrapping her in the furs and blankets, trying to avoid glancing at her naked body.

“Poor girl.” Charles sighed, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair. 

Arthur cursed under his breath, rubbing a hand over his chin. 

“I’m guessin’ you didn’t find the bull.”

“You’d be right.”

-

You ran the brush through your hair, knowing you couldn’t hide away in your room all day. Although you had no idea how you were supposed to face Arthur and Charles. Not after what you had heard last night. 

The two men were killers…but so were you. They didn’t know you knew, and they didn’t know about your sins.

But if they were bad men, why did they treat you, a vulnerable woman, with so much care? Why did they respect you and your anatomy when they could have taken advantage of you time after time?

It didn’t matter, you would just ride it out until the snow melted. You would just have to try and keep your distance. Although that seemed impossible, especially when there was nowhere to escape from them other than this room. And it didn’t help that you were completely engulfed by Charles' scent. If only you had some other clothes to wear.

You cinched the belt tighter around your waist, cuffing the pants at your ankles. It would have to do for now.

You opened the door, feeling like an absolute fool as you stepped into the main room. 

“Morning sleeping beauty.” Charles chuckled, his lip twitching upwards as he glanced over at you. 

“Funny.” You said, heat flooding your cheeks as you looked down. 

“Don’t tease the poor girl Charles.” Arthur said with a small smile, one of the first ones that actually seemed genuine from him.

What had happened between last night and this morning? 

“So, you still wanna learn to read?” Arthur asked, setting his journal to the side. 

Right! You had almost forgotten.

“Yes.” You nodded, unable to stop the grin that spread across your lips. Your worries melting like warm butter the longer you were around them.

“Well, first thing you gotta learn is the alphabet, all the letters.” He said, leaning against the table, his hand resting on his hip.

“You two have fun.” Charles chuckled, shaking his head as he left to tend to the animals.

“Now, there are twenty six letters.” Arthur said, turning your attention to the paper spread out on the table. “I’ve put them all in order.”

“There’s an order?” You asked, looking up from the papers.

“Yeah, course there’s an order.”

“But why?”

“Well cause-“ He paused, his brows furrowed as he looked down, “cause that’s just the way it is. Now it starts with the letter a.”

-

“Alright, which one is b?” Arthur asked, leaning forward as he quizzed you. Your eyes moved over the letters until you found it, tapping it with your finger. “Good! Now point to the letter r.”

You smiled at his praise, pointing to ‘r’. “Well ain’t you quick.” He chuckled, shaking his head, “God, it took almost a week for Dutch to teach me.”

“Was he your teacher?” You asked, your elbows resting on the table as you leaned forward. He faltered, his shoulders tensing before he nodded. 

“Sort of.” He said, clearing his throat, “Guess I was probably about ten years younger than you. Too bullheaded to actually pay attention to anything he had to say.” His voice softened, an almost melancholy sense to it. “You’ll probably be reading in another week or so.” He said.

“You think so?” You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your tone.

“Sure.” He nodded, “You’re a natural.” You beamed looking up into his eyes. He stared back, an expression you couldn’t quite place on his face.

Charles opened the door, returning from doing the chores. Arthur looked away, ending watever moment the two of you had.

“How was class today Mr. Morgan?” Charles teased as he took off his winter coat.

“Well she’s a hell of a lot smarter than me, that’s for sure.” He said giving you a small smile as he shook his head.

“I have a good teacher.” You smiled, looking from Arthur to Charles.

“Yeah?” Charles asked, his own smile spreading across his lips. “We got a scholar on our hands, Arthur.” Heat blooms in your cheeks as you bashfully lower your head. 

“Did ya make sure the barn door was closed?” Arthur teased, smirking up at Charles. 

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one day.” Charles chides, his words lacking any edge as he rolled his eyes. “Do you think you’re too tired for a different kind of lesson?” Charles asked, turning his attention to you.

“What kind?” You asked, straightening your back.

“Picked up a rabbit's tracks back near the barn, you ever skinned an animal?” He asked, a glint in his eye. You shook your head, your stomach flip-flopping.

“Oh come on girl, it ain’t that bad.” Arthur chuckled, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he passed you. Arthur’s touch did little to ease your nerves. “You gonna go get it?” Arthur said, crossing his arms as he leaned up against the table. Trying, and failing, to act nonchalant.

“Was thinking about it.” Charles hummed, “Would you go with me?” He asked, taking Arthur’s bait.

“Always.” Arthur grinned, grabbing his blue coat off the hook. “We’ll be back.” He nodded to you before the two of them headed out the door. 

It was the first time you had been left alone in their home. They trusted you enough to leave you alone in their home. You bit your lip, trying to stop your giddy smile from spreading. You piled up the papers, in alphabetical order, before setting them off to the side. 

-

You had successfully tidied up the cabin by the time they came back. Laughing as they opened the door, their cheeks flushed from the cold.

Arthur tossed the rabbit carcass onto the table, shrugging off his coat. 

The thought of learning a new… skill. Had been exciting at first, but now that the dead animal was in front of you, the only thing you wanted to do was cringe. 

“Oh it ain’t that bad.” Arthur chuckled, walking past you. In a better mood than you had seen him in all week. Spending an hour or two chasing down a small animal in the freezing cold would have had the opposite effect on you.

Charles sat down across from you, “It really isn’t that bad.” He smiled, handing you a hunting knife. You hesitantly took it, staring down at the unmoving animal. 

“Is this a skill I really need?” You asked, looking back up at Charles. 

“You don’t have to.” He said with a small shrug. 

“No- no I need to.” You said, shaking your head. You didn’t want to let either of them down, “What do I do first?” 

“Pinch the hide and make a cut near the base of its neck.” He instructed, nodding towards the rabbit. You swallowed thickly, pinching the back of the rabbits back. You sliced through its skin, grimacing. 

“Now what?” You asked, swallowing thickly as you looked down at the unmoving rabbit. 

“You’ll want to tear the opening- no not with the knife.”

“Well what else would I tear it open with then?” You huffed, setting the knife down on the table. Your breath coming quicker, your chest pounding against your ribcage.

“He means with your fingers.” Arthur called over his shoulders, a dry cough leaving his lips.

“You’re joking!“ You gasped, gawking at Charles. He barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Come on now sweetheart it isn’t that bad.” He grinned, quirking his brow. “Just put your fingers in the cut and pull.”

“And pull?” You gawked, “No- no, no, no, no.” Your legs shaky as you stood from the table, the lump in your throat growing “No I can’t.” You said, shaking your head as you wiped your hands off on your- Arthur’s- trousers.

Both the men burst out laughing, their voices ringing in your ears as the walls of the cabin closed in on you. Your breath started coming fast, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you looked down at the rabbit.

The memory of your fathers unblinking gaze forced itself to the front of your mind as you stared into the animal's cold dead eyes.

You rushed out of the cabin, bile moving up your throat as you pushed the door open. You swallowed hard, the cold air cooling your flushed cheeks. You leaned against one of the wooden beams of the porch. Digging your nails into your palms, the dull pain grounding you as your mind seemed to drift farther and farther away. 

Your father wasn’t a man to have many friends, who would want to be around a man like him? Would anyone have stopped by the house yet? You rarely got any visitors and not with weather like this. 

On one hand you wanted his body to be found, mainly so you wouldn’t have to think about the alternative. His body decomposing into the wooden floor of the kitchen. On the other hand, who would they suspect for his murder? A gunshot to the chest at that close of range could hardly be called an accident. Certainly not if you confessed to being the one who pulled the trigger. You could pin it on a robbery gone wrong. You ran for your life and got lost out in the woods, unable to return until the snow melted. It wasn’t entirely false. But if they didn’t believe you, you’d be hung for sure. Were a few moments of freedom worth your life? Although, how much of a life was it? You had experienced more living in the past week than you had in years. You had moments of actual joy, happiness. Although that thought only made you feel more conflicted, your stomach sinking like a rock.

“Hey.” Charles' voice cut through your constant flow of thought. The door of the cabin shut behind him. “Are you alright?” He asked, hesitantly stepping towards you, reminiscent of how he had approached you the first time you had met. 

“Fine.” You nodded, looking out at the snowy landscape. He sighed, walking up beside you.

“I can tell that you’re not ‘fine’.” You could see he was looking at you from the corner of your eye. 

“I’ll be fine.” You amended your statement, sparing him a glance. The two of you looked at each other for a moment, his eyes searching yours for something you didn’t want to give up.

“I’m sorry about the rabbit.” He said, his voice low and gentle. “I sprung it on you, that was my fault.”

“It’s not-“ You groaned, feeling tears prick your eyes as you covered your face with your aching hands. He kept quiet, letting the two of you sit in silence while you gathered your thoughts. He didn’t rush you, he waited patiently, as though the tension or the cold didn’t bother him. “It’s not about the rabbit.” You wiped at your face with the sleeves of your flannel. Sage and lavender filled your senses, the familiar and unmistakable scent of Charles.

“Was Arthur right?” He asked.

“About what?” You sniffled, looking up at him

“That you were running from something.” He answered, raising his brows. You pursed your lips, returning your gaze to the frozen landscape. Your frustration only growing at his uncanny ability to read you. 

“My father is not a kind man.” You said after a moment, making sure to refer to him in the present tense. “I had to get away.” You said swallowing thickly. Although you didn’t know if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

He nodded, “You did the right thing.”

“You don’t know that.” You scoffed, shaking your head, “You don’t know me.” Your words were unnecessarily harsh, you regretted them as soon as they left your lips.

“I think I do.” He said, his brows furrowed. Although his eyes held no anger towards you despite his tone. “I think we're more alike than you realize.” He turned his gaze away from you, wiping the snow away from the wooden railing.

“What does that mean?” You asked, narrowing your eyes. He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“You are daft sometimes.” He smiled.

“Did you come out here to insult me?” You huffed. The cold did little to help your mood as you started to shiver.

“Is that what you think I came out here to do?” He asked, sighing as he looked over at you. “We are all running from something. Some of us have just been running longer.” He shrugged. You purse your lips, sticking your hands under your armpits to try and warm them up. 

“My father was a kind man until we lost my mother.” Charles said, staring up at the night sky. You softened, your brows pinching together as you looked over at him. “I suppose any man would lose part of themselves if they lost someone like her.” A low sigh left his lips. His voice carrying an undeniable sense of sadness. 

“I’m sorry.” You said softly, you wished you could do something to comfort him. Something that wouldn’t cross a boundary between the two of you. You hoped your words of condolences were enough. 

“Arthur and I started running around the same time in our lives, maybe that’s why we get along so well.” He said with a dry chuckle, a far away look in his eye. “Maybe that’s why we get along as well.” He suggested, his eyes near obsidian in the low light as they found yours. Like steel striking flint, a spark caught between the two of you. Warmth spread throughout your body despite the freezing temperatures. You couldn’t tell whether the goosebumps springing up on your arms were from the snowfall or from him. You didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how a man you had met nearly a week ago could make you feel things you hadn’t felt in years. How they both made you feel things.

Now that was a dangerous thought. 

“Are you not cold?” You asked, trying to snuff out whatever flame was now growing inside you.

“You’re the one who ran out here.” He said with a sly smile, “C’mon, supper won’t cook itself.”

 -

“How often do you boys go hunting?” You asked, nearly moaning over the rabbit stew. The two men smirked at each other before turning their attention back to you.

“Now you know we wouldn’t have had this meat if we hadn’t dressed that rabbit.” Arthur hummed, raising an eyebrow. 

“Dressed? If anything you two undressed him.” You said, your brows furrowed as you looked up from your bowl. Charles bit his lip, trying to hide his smile. Arthur on the other hand, didn’t even try to hold in his laughter. Heat crept up your neck as you looked between the two men. “I’ve said something foolish haven’t I?” You mumbled looking down.

“Not foolish, just funny.” Charles said with a kind smile.

“I’m guessin’ no one hunted much in your family?” Arthur asked, although he could have guessed that from the way you went white as a sheet while looking at the rabbit. You shook your head, shoveling another spoonful into your mouth.

“My father… he was- is a man that doesn’t know much about the outdoors.” You shrugged, hoping they didn’t catch your small slip up. “The only meat we ever got was from the butcher, if we had the money.” Which you never did. Most of the time you had to get creative just to eat something edible for supper. If that meant cutting eyes out of old potatoes you would do it. 

“This man sounds like the simplest of the lot.” Arthur huffed

“Arthur.” Charles warned, looking between the two of you. 

“No Charles it had to be said.” He said, setting down his silverware with a clang, “First the man says women shouldn’t be educated, which is the biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever heard. Now she tells me he don’t know how to provide for his family, neither?”

“Arthur, it's okay really.” You mumbled, swallowing thickly as heat flooded your cheeks. 

“No it ain’t.” He growled, “A woman like you deserves the best in life, not some good for nothin’ father.” You bit your lip, looking down at the table. Your stomach twisting, as shame and gratitude fought for dominance in your head.

“Guess it’s a good thing you found me then.” You said, trying to ease the conversation into a new subject. An emotion flashed across Arthur’s face, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

“Yeah… yeah I guess it was.” He said, picking up his spoon as he began to eat again. Charles watched the two of you with an almost knowing gaze. Although you didn’t know exactly what he knew. 

“I never did thank the two of you for saving me.” You said setting down your utensils. “Thank you, I mean it. You could’ve left me but you- well you saved my life. For that I will be forever in your debt.” 

“Well we couldn’t have left ya to freeze out there.” Arthur mumbled, looking down at his bowl as he ate. Although it seemed like he was purposefully avoiding your gaze. His words a far cry from his earlier sentiment of saving you,

“You’re welcome.” Charles said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip.

You nodded, your expression mirroring his as you looked at him from across the table. That warm fuzzy feeling settled in your stomach as the three of you ate. A dangerous thought entered your mind, one that had been slinking forward for days.

You didn’t want to leave. 

You were comfortable, happy here with them. So they had made a few mistakes, hadn’t everyone? Like Charles had said, they weren’t those people anymore. Whatever that meant you believed him- or you wanted to believe him.

You had to go. Before you got in too deep. Before these confusing feelings grew too large to be ignored. You would have to return home.

You’d been up since the sun rose. Its soft rays danced upon your eyelids, rousing you out of your sleep. You had hardly moved, watching as the beams of light crept up the walls. You had heard Arthur and Charles stir. Their door opened and closed, their heavy footfalls on the wooden floor alerting you to their presence in the room. Soon enough the rocking chair began to creak, Arthur no doubt settling down with his journal. His hands gripped the small piece of charcoal as it glided across the parchment. His brows knitted together in concentration, eyes downcast, never leaving the precise strokes of the pencil. 

You groaned, pushing the heels of your palms into your eyes. Spots dancing in the darkness of your vision. Christ, what was wrong with you? You rolled over, bringing your knees into your chest. You wrapped your arms around your body, trying to get Arthur off your mind. 

The cabin door shut, grabbing your attention. Charles was off to tend to the animals. Wrapped up in his thick coat, stomping through the snow towards the barn. You could clearly see him in your mind. His cheeks flushed, his plump lips parted, hot breaths of air leaving them. 

You pushed your face into the pillow, muffling your cry of frustration. You couldn’t even escape them in your mind. 

A deep, almost nutty aroma filled your senses. You raised your head, your brows furrowed as you tried to place the smell.

Coffee. You rolled out of bed, putting on your clothes from yesterday. You needed to get your hands on some new clothes, maybe they had some scraps of fabric. You didn’t care what they looked like at this point, you would wear a potato sack if it at least fit you. 

Cinching your belt around your waist you exited your room. 

Arthur raised his head as you opened the door, his eyes flitted from you towards his open journal. 

“About time you joined us.” He mumbled, shutting his journal as he tossed it onto the rocking chair.

“It's not a crime to sleep in is it?” You asked, raising your brows as you walked over to the fire, “I didn’t know y’all had coffee.” You hummed, closing your eyes as you savored the scent. 

“Didn’t sleep well last night.” He grumbled, heading into the kitchen. He pulled out two metal cups, thrusting one into your hands. He held the cup steady in your hand as he poured the rich liquid into it. Although his hands were calloused, they were surprisingly gentle against yours. 

You swallowed thickly, nodding your thanks as you brought the cup to your lips. You didn’t trust your voice. You could feel the heat from his hand lingering on your own.

“So,” You started, clearing your throat, “What are you gonna teach me today Mr. Morgan?” You teased, trying to hide your nerves as you sat down at the table. 

“Well Miss, I suppose we should continue working on the alphabet, unless ya know it by heart?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned over the table. His arms nearly bulging out of his sleeves. 

“I mean, not by heart.” You said looking down into your cup. 

“Well lucky for you there’s a- a bit of a trick to learning it.” He said clearing his throat, the tips of his ears tinged with pink. 

“Yeah?” You asked, copying his stance as you leaned forward. “Well what is it?”

 He sighed, pursing his lips as he wiped at the table with his hand. “Well it’s… it’s a song.” His expression soured as he watched the grin spread across your face. “No I don’t wanna hear it.” He groaned.

“Oh c'mon Arthur, sing for me.” You chuckled, placing your hands under your chin.

“You damn witchy woman.” He huffed, shaking his head. Although his words lacked any fire, “Why don’t I just keep it to myself huh? I am the teacher here.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Now that ain’t fair.” You pouted, sitting back in your chair.

“Life ain’t fair darlin’.” He chuckled, his deep baritone shooting straight to your core as you looked up at him. His teeth glinted as his lips pulled back in a wolfish grin. “But I suppose, just this once, I’ll humor ya.” He relented, “Just don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” 

He cleared his throat, lowering his gaze as he very begrudgingly began to sing you the abc’s. You couldn’t help but find it charming, the way his cheeks flushed as he sang the letters to the tune of twinkle twinkle little star.

“… won’t you sing with me.” He finished, letting out a sigh that sounded more like a wheeze as he looked up at you. “What? Do I got somethin’ on my face?” He huffed.

“No, nothing.” You chuckled softly, shaking your head as butterflies fluttered around in your gut.

“Go on, you try it.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Seriously?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, seriously, this is your lesson for the day and I wanna hear those pipes girl.” He smiled, sitting down across from you, “Now go on.”

You huffed, steeling yourself as you looked down. If you didn’t look at him it wouldn’t be as bad. All you had to do was be able to sing through the alphabet, it couldn’t be that hard. Arthur cut you off before you got halfway through 

“You missed a letter.” He said, your eyes widening as you looked up at him.

“No I did not!” You scoffed.

“Ya sure did.” He nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip.

“You’re makin’ it up so I have to sing that stupid song again!” You huffed, crossing your arms as heat flooded your cheeks.

“Now that is a mighty strong accusation.” He chuckled, shaking his head, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling. “Ya missed ‘M’. Start again, we ain’t quittin’ til you get it right.” 

You probably sang that damn song twenty times before Charles got back. Which only added to your embarrassment. 

“… won’t you sing with me.” You finished, your words slightly muffled by your hands covering your face.

“Atta girl!” Arthur chuckled, starting to clap.

“No- no clapping.” You groaned as Charles laughed.

“Good job.” Charles smiled, giving you a nod.

“If I never have to sing that song again I’ll die a happy woman.” You said, shaking your head as you peeked through your fingers. Unable to stop your own smile from spreading across your face. 

Charles walked over to you, still wearing his thick winter coat. 

“So, you wanna get out of here?” He asked, leaning against the table. You raised an eyebrow at him, not entirely following. “My lesson wasn’t exactly… fun yesterday.” He said with a shrug. “I want to make it up to you.” 

“Can I ask what it is?” You asked, crossing your arms. 

“If you want to ruin the surprise.” He said, an easy smile playing on his lips. You huffed, biting your lip as you looked up at him. 

“I don’t have a coat.”

“Oh, take mine.” Arthur said, not looking up as he gathered the papers from your ‘lesson’. “Keep ya real warm.” 

Oh sure it would keep you warm, wrapped up in Arthur scent as you spent one on one time with Charles. 

“Alright.” You said hesitantly, slowly getting up from the table as you went to put your boots on. You laced up your boots, not missing the subtle smirk Arthur gave Charles. You put Arthur’s coat on, the thing was giant on your frame. Completely engulfed in Arthur scent. Charles nodded, opening the door and leading you outside. 

The snow was a thick blanket on the ground, but at least it hadn’t snowed since the storm had ceased. 

“Will my toes fall off before I see my surprise?” You asked Charles as the two of you walked through the thick powder.

“I doubt they will.” He hummed, the deep sound rumbling through his chest. 

He led you to the barn. It was a bit warmer inside at least, but the smell of livestock was a bit overpowering. 

“Is this the surprise?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Patience.” He said, visible hot puffs of air left his mouth as he closed the door. “This way.” He said, leading you further into the barn. 

Tied up against the wall, stood two beautiful horses. They munched on some hay, bobbing their heads as Charles approached.

“Come here.“ He smiled, offering you his hand as he walked up to the gray spotted one. “She won’t hurt you.” You let him pull you closer, his hand enveloped your own as he pulled you over to him. He laid your hand on her neck, her skin rippled underneath your touch as she flinched.

“Good girl.” He mumbled, smiling softly at the two of you. You pet the horse, smiling as she stood there. “This is Taima.”

“She’s beautiful.” You said softly, “I suppose this was a good surprise.”

“This isn’t it.” He said, finding your eyes, “I want to teach you how to ride.” Your eyes widened slightly.

“But I don’t have my own horse.”

“You'll be riding her, I’ll ride Buell.” He nodded to the golden coated horse.

“I- are you sure? I don’t know what I’m doing.” You sighed, shaking your head.

“No one does before they’re taught.” He shrugged, “It’s an important skill to have, since you’ll leave us one day.” His words left a bad taste in your mouth. You were excited to learn new things but at the same time, each lesson was just one step closer to leaving Arthur and Charles.

“Who taught you?” You asked, letting out a big breath as you changed the subject.

“My father.” He said, looking over the saddle, adjusting it slightly. “You’ll start on Taima, Buell is… spirited.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “He needs to get out more, stretch his legs.” He said mainly to himself as he ran a gloved hand down Taima’s flank. “Climb on.” He said, patting the saddle. You bit your lip, letting out a breath as you put your foot in the stirrup. You swung your leg over her back, feeling her skin ripple as your legs settled on either side of her.

“Now you’ll want to find your balance.” He instructed, moving to stand next to you. “You want to be as balanced in the saddle as you are standing. Your body should be a straight line from your shoulder, hip to heel.”

“Easier said than done.” You sighed, trying to find your balance as you hung onto the horn of the saddle. 

“You’re afraid.” He said, shaking his head, “They can sense your fear. Try to relax.” 

You huffed, trying to find your balance and keep your body a straight line. You moved forward on the saddle, tipping to your left side. You reached out, grabbing Charles' shoulder.

“Hey,” He said softly, his hand moving to your waist, “I got you.” He nodded, your heart leapt into your throat as he steadied you.

You nodded, swallowing thickly as you regained your balance. Once you felt confident enough you let go of his shoulder and grabbed the reins.

“We’re not going anywhere just yet.” He chuckled, smiling up at you, “Give me those.” He said, holding out his hand. You handed him the reins, letting out a surprised squeak as he started leading Taima around the barn.

“I thought we weren’t going anywhere yet!” You gasped, staring at him with wide eyes.

“We haven’t left the barn have we?” He asked with a sly smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“You’re awful.” You groaned, trying to maintain your balance as Taima moved around the barn. You moved your hips in time with each step, keeping your body as straight of a line as you could.

“You’re getting it.” He chuckled encouragingly, looking back at you over his shoulder.

“Well you didn’t give me much of a choice did you?” You huffed, a smile spreading across your lips. 

“Suppose I didn’t.” He shrugged. Your hands and feet were positively frozen by the time Charles ended your lesson. You were glad to be back inside near the fire. You ripped your gloves off, walking over to the fire to warm up. 

“You two have fun?” Arthur asked, looking up from his journal.

“You know, it wasn’t half bad.” You smiled, your hands and feet burning from the sudden shift in temperature. A warm smile overtook Charles’ expression, making his rosy cheeks even brighter. 

“Better than the last ‘lesson’ Charles taught you?” Arthur teased, looking back at Charles.

“I certainly hope so.” Charles huffed, picking up Arthur’s coat that you shed near the door as he hung his own coat up.

“I’d have to agree.” You hummed, grinning at the two men. “I uh- I was wondering if perhaps you had some more clothes you don’t wear as often? I know I must be getting unpleasant to be around.” You chuckled sheepishly, you had been wearing these clothes for a couple days now. You doubted you smelt like roses.

“You know, I think we might have some clothes neither of us fit in anymore.” Charles nodded, rubbing his hands together as he walked into their room. He returned with a couple shirts, well worn by the years but they would do.

“Thank you, I’ll go change.” You nodded, getting to your feet and heading to your room. You were glad to have some ‘new’ clothes and honestly the pants were growing on you. You weren’t nearly as cold as you normally were back home, but that could also be due to the fact that these conditions were better than back home. This cabin had become your very own slice of heaven on earth. 

You walked back out into the main room, glad to be in some new clothes. 

“Those fit better.” Charles smiled, looking up as he started to prepare supper. Arthur looked up, his neutral expression slowly working into something that you would describe as anger. 

“That’s my shirt.” He said, his face reddening as his jaw ticked.

“I thought Charles said these were clothes you didn’t fit in anymore.” You said, looking down at the blue shirt. 

“Arthur, you don’t fit in that anymore.” Charles said, setting down his knife. His brows furrowed as he looked at the two of you.

“That don’t mean it ain’t mine.” He huffed, slamming his journal shut as he got up. 

“I- I’m sorry.” You mumbled taking a step back, your heart clenched painfully in your chest as he strode towards you. You flinched, your stomach dropped as you prepared yourself for a blow, a blow that never came. 

You hesitantly opened your eyes, Arthur stared down at you with a pained expression.

“Oh darlin’ I-“ He started, but you didn’t hear much of anything else. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you felt the familiar prickle in your nose. Tears started to sting your eyes as you turned on your heel and ran back into your room. You could have died from how damn embarrassed you were. You tore his shirt off, the rest of your clothes following. Your skin felt raw as you climbed into bed, throwing the covers over your head. 

Just when you think you might be figuring them out, something so simple as a shirt made all your progress to mean nothing. You’d make them take you home tomorrow. You at least knew the alphabet now, that was a start. You could teach yourself how to read, you didn’t need them. You didn’t need anyone. If you rationed the rest of the food in the pantry at home, you'd have enough to last you until the first week of summer now that father is dead.

Father. Dear God what state would his body be in now? Would you have the strength to drag his body out of the house? Would you even be able to with the level of decomposition?

Christ, you didn’t want to think about it.

You could hardly think of it as home now, it was only his grave. This was home. This cabin, here with Arthur and Charles. Or were they home?

No. No they weren’t. 

You didn’t leave your room the rest of the night. You tried your best to ignore their whispering on the other side of the door. It wasn’t like you didn’t know what you were talking about. How many more times would you lose control like that? Why did your mind have to play such cruel tricks on you? Arthur wouldn’t hurt you. Neither of them would. That nagging thought started to whisper in the back of your mind. But they could. They had hurt people before, killed people before. You had heard them admit it when they hadn’t known you were listening. You doubted theirs hadn’t been in self defense either.

But a sin was a sin. No matter the circumstances.

The rays of sunshine streaming through your window had woken you. You didn't even remember falling asleep as you rubbed your eyes. You climbed out of bed, no sense in delaying whatever awkward conversation was bound to be had. You put your clothes back on, tying the string of your skirt.

You gathered up the clothes they had lent you before leaving your room. Arthur wasn’t sitting in his normal spot, instead he was standing in front of the fireplace. He looked almost nervous. At his feet was a rather large trunk.

His head snapped in your direction at the sound of the door opening. His adam's apple bobbed as he watched you. You set the clothes down on the table, neither of you spoke. 

“Charles already left.” He said after a moment, clearing his throat. 

“I guessed that.” You mumbled, running your hand along the wood grains of the table. He cleared his throat again, his hands on his hips as he looked down at the trunk. 

“M’sorry about last night.” He said softly, raising his eyes to look at you. “I’d- I’d never hurt you.” He swore, his words carrying an undeniable weight to them. You nodded, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “I uh- I have something for ya.” He said, opening the trunk. Inside was a bunch of clothes in different conditions. “You can do whatever ya want with ‘em. If ya wanna tear ‘em apart and make somethin’ new or just… Hell, I don't know.” He sighed, running his hand down his face.

“Thank you Arthur.” You said with a small smile, ending his misery. He nodded, giving you a sheepish smile.

“You can keep the trunk, too.” He added, coughing slightly. 

“Oh, well thank you.” You said, “I’ll uh, I’ll need help moving it into my room. Looks heavy.” You chuckled walking over to him.

“Well it ain’t light that’s for sure.” He nodded a small smile spreading on his lips. “Charles and I’ll haul it into your room when he gets back.” He nodded, walking past you.

You sat down next to the trunk, looking through it. There were definitely some salvageable things in here, and the things that weren’t you would make into something new. You dug through the trunk, your fingers brushing up against a round wooden frame.

You sat back on your haunches, pulling the frame out of the bottom of the trunk. A woman with a kind smile stared back at you through the photo. Her hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. 

“Arthur,” You called looking up at him. He turned, his eyes landing on the photograph.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He said softly, walking over to you. You handed him the frame, his finger trailing over the woman’s face. “Thought I lost it.” He mumbled, his lips turning upwards.

“Who is she?”

“My momma.” He smiled, looking over at you. “God I- I thought I left it back at camp.” He said, shaking his head. He got to his feet, placing the frame on the mantle. 

“What else is in here?” You asked, pulling the clothes out onto the floor. Arthur sat down across from you, helping you pull out the contents of the trunk. He grabbed a few photographs, his eyes softening.

“Copper.” He chuckled as you peered over the trunk. Your own smile grew as you looked at the photo of a dog. The next was a photo of a man who looked similar to Arthur. He held up a sign, but you couldn’t read it just yet. “My pa.” He nodded, flipping to the next photo.

This one had three men. A dark haired man in the middle, an older man to one side of him and… was that Arthur?

“Is that you?” You asked, only able to look at it for a moment before he pulled it away.

“You don’t need to see that,” He muttered, getting to his feet as he walked over to his journal. He opened it to a random page, putting the pictures inside before closing it. The tips of his ears tinged pink.

“Oh you were cute!” You chuckled, shaking your head. You pulled out another frame, your smile falling as you looked at the beautiful woman. It was obvious she had money by looking at her clothes and jewelry. Status most likely, too. You knew Arthur had a brother, but you highly doubted this was his sister. 

Your gut clenched, jealousy burning through you as you looked down at Arthur’s past love. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. “She’s pretty.” You said softly, biting the inside of your cheek as you looked up at Arthur.

He turned his head towards you, his eyes landing on the photo. His expression fell slightly as his feet moved towards you. You freely handed him the frame, happy to get it out of your sight. But then your eyes landed on one last photo. Young Arthur and the woman. You took the photo, tearing your eyes away from it as you held it up for him. 

“You were a cute couple,” You said, grateful that he took it from your fingers. Easing the burning in your belly. “Although I think the beard suits you more than the clean shaven look.” You said, trying to ease the tension in the room. He chuckled slightly, his hand on his hip. 

“Yeah well… you know how it goes.” He sighed, clearing his throat, “Her daddy didn’t like me much and… she married a nice fella.” He shrugged, placing the frame and photo face down on the table. “Guess everything works out how it ought to in the end.” He said, his bright blue eyes finding yours. 

“Suppose so.” You said breathlessly, your heart thumping against your ribcage. The air gained a sudden thickness, like right before a lightning storm. Just waiting for the first bolt to light up the sky.

Charles came in like rolling thunder, flinging the door open as he walked inside. He took off his snow gear, hanging up his coat. 

You glanced away from him, feeling warmth bloom in your cheeks as you started to put the clothes back in the trunk.

“Ah, you found the clothes.” Charles said, his breath heavy as he took off his boots. “I uh- have some sewing supplies if that’s something you’d be interested in.” He said, standing at his full height.

“I’d like that.” You nodded, “I can mend anything the two of you bring me as well.”

“Might take you up on that.” Charles grinned, his eyes taking on an almost amber shine in the fire light. Your heart skipped a beat as he caught your eye. 

You had only felt like this once many years ago. Back when love was easy and you were too young to know better. But you had never felt this way about two men before. At least not at the same time. 

The day passed quickly, you held off on your lessons. Spending your time taking in the trousers they had given you to fit better. Along with mending a few holes in Arthur and Charles’ shirts. They had hauled the trunk into your room, setting it at the foot of your bed.

“I’ll hate to leave it.” You said softly, folding the clothes neatly in the trunk.

“What d’ya mean?” Arthur asked, furrowing his brows as he stood in the doorway.

“When I go home.” You said looking up at him, “I couldn’t possibly carry it back when it was a struggle for the two of you.” You said, shaking your head. Arthur went eerily quiet, when you raised your head to look at him he was gone. 

Sleep evaded you most of the night. You laid in bed, tossing and turning until you couldn’t take it anymore. You’d brew some tea or something to help you at least relax. You opened the door into the main room, nearly jumping out of your skin as you saw Arthur’s silhouette. Your hand flew up to cover your heart as you caught your breath. 

“You scared me half to-“ He cut you off with a soft snore. You padded over to him, a smile tugging at your lips. He looked so peaceful, the deep lines smoothed out on his forehead and between his brows. You could have stood there all night admiring him, but your eyes were drawn downwards. In his lap sat his journal, open to the page he was working on.

You swallowed the gasp that threatened to leave your lips as your eyes landed on the drawing.

It was you. A sketch of you, with your head slightly turned down as you sewed. You had never seen anything like it, each little detail was accounted for in the drawing. 

What did it mean? Was he only sketching, something he did often. But he didn’t often draw you. Hell he never drew you, or so you thought. It was mainly animals or flowers you saw when you were able to catch a glimpse. 

What did this mean? Were you just a different model to draw? Your mind was going a mile a minute trying to make sense of this. Meanwhile your traitorous heart sang as the thought entered your mind that maybe, maybe Arthur could have feelings for you.

Only you didn’t just have feelings for Arthur, Charles had captured your heart as well. You couldn’t choose between the two of them if the moment presented itself. 

You took one last glance at the sketch and then at Arthur. Your heart pounding as you looked at him, the crease between his brows smoothed out by sleep. Your fingers itched to reach out and touch him. To run your fingers through his honey brown hair, or caress his cheek. To feel his stubble against your palm, or the soft kiss of his lips. 

You shook your head, clearing your mind of these thoughts. You returned to your bedroom wide awake, knowing you would not be getting much sleep tonight. 

Charles didn’t sleep well that night, he didn’t understand why until his hand reached out to the cold side of the bed. Reaching for Arthur’s warm freckled back to bury his face in. Only to find the cool sheets in his wake.

It was barely light, the sun just peeking over the horizon. Casting a bright ochre glow across the sky, slowly engulfing the dark blue. He could see clouds darkening in the distance as he rubbed his eyes, putting on his trousers and shirt. 

He walked out into the main room, softly closing the door behind him. Arthur sat in front of the fire, wrapped in a plaid blanket.

“You’re up early.” He said, waking over to him, his arms crossed as he waited for him to take the bait.

“Sun woke me up.” Arthur mumbled, a weak lie, staring into the fireplace.

“Did you come to bed last night?” Charles asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped in front of Arthur. Arthur huffed, mirroring Charles’ stance as he crossed his arms. 

“No.” Arthur grumbled, lowering his eyes. Too tired to think up a lie, besides Charles would see right through it. Charles sighed, walking over to the mantle. He leaned his elbow against it, enjoying the warmth after leaving the cold sheets. “She’s still planning on leavin’.” Arthur huffed, his jaw ticking. 

“I know.” Charles nodded, looking down. A low sigh leaving his lips. 

“Well what are we gonna do?” Arthur asked, leaning forward in his seat as he clasped his hands together.

“What do you suggest we do?” Charles asked, looking down at him. “Tell her she can’t leave? Hold her here as some prisoner?”

“No dammit.” Arthur huffed, rubbing the space between his brows. “But we can’t- we can’t let her go back to her bastard of a father. You remember those bruises, how she nearly jumped out of her damn skin when I walked toward her the other night?”

“Keep your voice down.” Charles warned, letting out a frustrated sigh “You think I like it any more than you do? You think I haven’t wanted to track that bastard down!” He asked, narrowing his eyes, “I’m trying to buy us more time, just like you. But we can’t stop her from leaving.” Arthur clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ached, he hated when Charles was right, which was more often than not. 

“I- I just don’t want to see her hurt.” Arthur said after a moment. Charles sighed, looking down at the wooden floor.

“I don’t either.” He said, walking over to stand in front of Arthur. He reached down, grasping his shoulder. “But we can’t keep her here if she wants to leave.” Arthur kept his eyes low, his hand coming up to cover Charles’. He ran his thumb over the back of his hand, seeking comfort in the subtle motion. 

“And what if she wants to stay?” He asked, his voice tight. “We just pretend we ain’t… we ain’t the way we are?” He squeezed Charles' hand. 

“I won’t live like that.” Charles said, shaking his head, “I’m not ashamed.” Arthur’s stomach clenched, partly in affection and partly in dread.  Arthur got up, walking past Charles. He stood in front of the fireplace, crossing his arms as he stared down into the flames. A whirlwind of emotions rushing through him. 

“Do you love her?” It sounded more like a statement than a question as Arthur whirled around to stare at Charles. His jaw dropped along with his stomach as a scoff left his lips. 

“Damn it, I love you Charles.” He growled, taking a step closer to the man. His hand wrapped around the back of Charles’ neck as he pulled him close. “You.” He reiterated, squeezing his neck gently.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Charles said, his dark eyes almost obsidian as he stared into Arthur’s. “Do you love her?” His voice was level and deep, no hint of anger or jealousy. Arthur sighed, pressing his forehead against his. He knew no matter what he said, no matter how hard he lied, Charles would see right through his bullshit.

Charles nodded, his hand squeezing Arthur’s waist. “You love me and you love her?” Again, phrasing a damn question like some statement.

“You know I do.” Arthur huffed, his tense stance deflating as the truth was revealed. A moment of silence passed between them before Charles let out a soft laugh. 

“You’re not alone, partner.” Charles said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. Arthur furrowed his brows, his eyes flitting across Charles' face. Taking in his spreading grin. 

“You’re kidding?” Arthur asked, tilting his head slightly. Still not fully believing him. Charles shook his head, grinning at Arthur. Arthur pulled him forward, crashing his lips against his. 

“You think we still got time before she wakes?” Arthur asked breathlessly, threading his fingers through the hair at the nape of Charles’ neck.

“You think you can be quiet?” Charles chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Can you, big boy?” Arthur smirked, his cock twitching in his pants. Charles pulled him forwards, the two of them walking back into their bedroom. Arthur closed the door behind him with his foot, tugging his shirt over his head. Charles followed suit, unbuttoning his pants before stepping out of them. Arthur moved forward, gripping the hem of Charles’ shirt as he pulled it upwards. As soon as Charles’ skin was bared, Arthur wasted little time to cover him in open mouthed kisses. His hand reached into his thin trousers, pulling him out. Charles felt a shiver run up his spine as Arthur smeared pre-cum over his head. Stroking him until his dick rested against his stomach, thick and heavy. 

A wolfish grin took over Arthur’s expression as he pushed him to lay back on the bed. He grabbed himself through his pants, squeezing his cock as he tried to give himself some relief. Before he settled between Charles’ thighs. He ran his hands up the strong trunks. His thumb rubbing against the lightning strike stretch marks along his hips.

“Ever tell you how damn handsome you are?” Arthur asked reverently, his mouth nearly watering as he looked up at Charles. 

“Most days.” Charles chuckled breathlessly, his pupils blown wide as he looked down at Arthur. He chuckled along, his breath ghosting against Charles' shaft. “Stop teasing.” He huffed, fidgeting under Arthur’s gaze.

“Don’t think you’re in a condition to make any demands there, Mr. Smith.” Arthur said, wrapping his hand around him, squeezing him at his base. Charles sucked in a breath, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“C’mon Arthur.” Charles pleaded softly.

“I gotchu sweetheart.” He cooed as he began to stroke him. Lubricating his hand with the precum that dribbled out of Charles’ tip. Normally Arthur would prolong each moment shared between the two of them. Back at camp, it was always quick exchanges if they got the chance. At first it had been exhilarating, sneaking around under the cover of darkness or the thick trees. The only time he would really get to take his time is if they paid for a room at a hotel, which never happened. Their hands covering their mouths, muffling their moans and spewed curses. It got old quick, always within grasp of each other but unable to act on their urges. After Arthur’s diagnosis, they wanted each moment together to last a lifetime. Not knowing how much time he had left until Arthur’s lungs failed him. They got lucky, little by little he got better. But that didn’t mean they didn’t like to take their time. 

Arthur loved pulling the sweetest whimpers from Charles' lips. The way his brow would furrow, his plump lips parting as he grabbed at Arthur. Whether his hands grasped his hair or his ass, they always pulled him closer. 

But they didn’t have time for that now, he just wanted to make Charles cum. Hell he didn’t even care if he got off, he could live with the ache for a while. He wrapped his lips around his head, fondling Charles’ balls as he relaxed his jaw. Charles was by no means a small man. Charles grunted, his hand flying to Arthur’s shoulder, steadying himself as he tried not to blow his load too soon. 

“Fuck Arthur-“ He hissed, gritting his teeth as he strained his head upwards. Arthur hummed around him, hollowing his cheeks as he took more of him in his mouth. Enjoying the salty taste of him on his tongue. Charles was hanging on for dear life, it had been too long, and he was too pent up. The slightest touch from Arthur would have sent him over the edge. Not to mention how perfectly his lips were wrapped around his cock, his blue eyes meeting Charles’. 

“I’m not- shit- I’m not gonna last.” He breathed, deep and ragged as he dug his dull nails into Arthur’s shoulder. Leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin. Arthur braced himself, holding onto Charles’ thighs as he slid down further on his length until his nose was pressed up against his dark pubic hair. Then the bastard swallowed around Charles and he was gone. His body seizing up as he painted the inside of Arthur’s mouth with his seed. He bit down on his hand, trying to muffle the moan that threatened to escape his lips. His eyes rolled back into his head as Arthur drank down everything he had to give him. Spent and boneless, Charles laid back against the bed. Arthur chuckled, pulling off him and wiping the corners of his mouth before climbing onto the bed beside him. 

Chatles rolled onto his side to face Arthur, a blissed out smile on his lips. 

“What?” Arthur asked, his own smile spreading on his lips. 

“You’re sure I’m the only man you’ve ever been with?” Charles asked, a shit eating grin tugging at his lips.

“Shut up.” Arthur huffed, rolling his eyes as he playfully shoved Charles. “C’mere.” He said, pulling him back towards in and into his arms. 

They weren’t planning on falling back asleep, but the post sex bliss drug Charles under and Arthur wasn’t far behind him. They woke maybe an hour later, Charles couldn't exactly tell as he rubbed his eyes. Pulling himself out of Arthur’s embrace, he shook him awake before getting dressed again.

“Surprised the cows haven’t broken out of the barn yet, you’re never this late getting them fed.” Arthur chuckled, shaking his head as he threw his shirt back on. 

“Well, I haven’t gone out there yet, maybe they did break out.” He grinned looking over at Arthur.

“At least we got the girl this time. Maybe she’d be the one looking instead of the one being found.” Arthur said as he finished buttoning up his shirt. He pulled Charles towards him, his and wrapping around his waist as he pressed his lips to his. “Just one more.” He said softly, his other hand cupping Charles’ face. His thumb running over the jagged scar on his cheek. 

Charles smiled, leaning into his hand before they begrudgingly separated. Arthur walked out first, as to not draw suspicion if she was already out in the main room. They hadn’t heard her get up yet, but just in case. Charles waited a few minutes before he walked out of the bedroom. Arthur was feeding the fire, placing a few logs on top of the burning embers. Charles headed over to the coat rack, reaching for his coat when he noticed that Arthur’s blue coat was missing. He furrowed his brows as he continued to put on his gear, lacing up his boots. Your boots were gone, too.

“Think she got an early start.” Charles called to Arthur, “Probably out there with Taima already.” He said, shaking his head. 

“She’s really taken to her.” Arthur hummed looking up at him, “Be careful for Taima’ll like her more than you soon.”

“Think she might already.” He chuckled, “She didn’t warm up to me that quickly. I had to work for it.” He put his hat on, stepping outside. The cold nipped at his face, the wind had begun to pick up. Charles saw your boot prints down the porch, but as he followed them he noticed they didn’t lead to the barn. They lead to the south. They led to where Charles believed your fathers house was, where your home was. His stomach dropped like a rock, his mouth running dry as he turned back towards the cabin.

He flung the door open, not bothering to take off his boots as he ran to your room. You weren’t there. You hadn’t taken anything, leaving all the clothes you had been given tucked away in the trunk. 

Charles could hardly breathe.

“Charles, what the hell is going on!” Arthur asked, panic laced in his tone.

“She’s gone.”

-

You’d never been much of an early riser. Today however, something had pulled you from your sleep. Although it wasn’t the best night of sleep anyway. You had tossed and turned, your subconscious playing tricks on you as Charles and Arthur invaded your dreams. 

You rubbed your eyes, putting on your trousers and buttoning up your shirt. Perhaps you’d tailor a few of the shirts Arthur gave you after your lessons. You left your room, your brows furrowed as you looked around for Arthur. It wasn’t like him to sleep in late, and Charles’ hat and coat were still hanging by the door. The animals would need to be tended to soon, and he would never let them go hungry.

Arthur must have gone to bed late last night, after… after sketching you. Your heart fluttered at the memory, his large hands resting on his open journal. 

You shook your head, clearing the image from your mind. Well, no matter, you would go wake them up yourself. You walked over to the closed door, your ears perking up as you heard rustling from inside. You raised your fist to knock when you heard an unmistakable moan.

You froze, your hand inches from the door. You couldn’t have moved if you wanted to. No matter how loud the voice in your head screamed at you to get away, your feet were firmly planted. 

Maybe you had just heard wrong, maybe it was a groan or an innocent sound made while sleeping. 

“I’m not- shit- I’m not gonna last.” The voice was muffled, but it was Charles. You gulped, your stomach dropping into your feet as you quietly reeled back from the door. Your hand reaching for purchase on the table as the life you had imagined crumbled around you. 

They didn’t have feelings for you. They had feelings for each other. 

You swallowed thickly, your mouth going dry as the pit in your stomach grew. God, you were a fool. How could you have not seen the signs? The lack of items in Charles ‘room’, the unspoken words that passed between them. You had been intruding on them this whole time. 

You wiped your nose off on your sleeve, tears stinging your eyes as you rushed back to your room. You wouldn’t force yourself in their space anymore. You had burdened them long enough. You tore off Arthur’s clothes, putting your blouse and skirt on. Charles said the cabin was a mile north of where he had found you those few weeks ago. Had it only been a couple of weeks? It felt like you had spent a lifetime with the two men, you wanted to spend your lifetime with them.

Enough of that, you wiped away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. They were foolish dreams to begin with. You couldn’t have one without losing the other, and you wouldn’t have done that. If only you had known neither of their hearts were available. The love that you harbored for the two men was wasted.

You were afraid to go out of your room, afraid you’d have to face them one last time. Luckily they were still in their room when you finally worked up the courage. The only other time you had laced up your boots so quickly was when you had left home. You opened the door, wincing as the wind blew into your face. You couldn’t go out there in just your skirt and blouse. You hesitated by the coat rack, your hand resting on Arthur’s coat. 

Perhaps some day you’d find a way to return it, although you knew that was wishful thinking. You threw the coat on, blinking away tears as you surrounded yourself with Arthur’s scent. Your hands lingered on Charles’ coat, and before you could stop yourself you brought the fabric to your nose. Inhaling his scent for the last time. You tried to commit it to memory, knowing you’d recall the smell when you were alone. Swallowing past the lump in your throat you took one last glance around the cabin. Your heart clenched in your chest as you pushed the door open. The cold wind hit you, cutting against your face like tiny blades. You held your hand up, shielding your face as you walked down the steps. Your feet sinking into the snow, the white powder rising above the tops of your boots. A shiver ran down your spine as you pushed forward, trying to ignore the coldness that seeped into your body. You looked over at the barn, considering for a moment if you should take one of the horses. You shook your head, knowing you are nowhere near close to riding on your own. Especially not in the snow like this, without Charles. Not to mention there would be no way to return Taima or Buell once you reached your father’s house. If you were thrown, you doubted they would know how to return home. You didn’t need another death hanging over your head, one was enough.

Your hands started to cramp, matching the freezing temperatures as you forged forward. You stole a glance over your shoulder, knowing you shouldn’t have. The cabin was still in your line of view, a beacon that called you back, called you home.

Your eyes began to water, you wished you could have blamed it on the cold but you knew that wasn’t true. You wiped away the moisture in your eyes, turning away from the log cabin and returning to your trek.

-

“How far do you think she made it?” Arthur asked, shoving his fingers into his gloves before putting on Charles’ coat.

”Hopefully the mile back to her father’s,” Charles huffed, pushing his arms through one of their shared coats. It didn’t offer the best heat, but he’d be damned if he had to think about you and Arthur facing the elements. “Tracks seemed fresh, she left this morning, not last night.” Thank god you hadn’t been so foolish as to leave under the cover of darkness. If you had got lost out there… he didn’t want to think about it.

“Damnit, why’d she go?” Arthur huffed, his voice tight and pained.

“I don’t know.” He said, shaking his head as he put his hat on. “Let’s just hope we find her.” The two men left the cabin, racing to the barn. It didn’t take them long to get the horses ready, their hooves plowing through the snow as they followed your trail.

-

You urged your numb feet forward, puffs of hot air leaving your lips as your father’s house came into view. Your hands itched as you tried to move your fingers. Climbing the stairs on shaky legs, you realized in your hurry that night you had left the door open. Snow covered the inside of the house, blanketing the furniture. Your stomach churned the further you ventured into the house. You stopped short as your eyes landed on your father’s body. You clamped your jaws shut, muffling the strangled groan that threatened to leave your lips. You turned away, moving as quickly as you could to the fireplace. Your traitorous hands stung like hell as you grabbed one of the logs. Tossing it into the fireplace you stumbled to your feet, searching for a box of matches. You breathed hot air onto your fingers, hoping to coax some movement back in them.

You struck the match against the side of the box three times before a flame burst forth. You tossed the stick onto the log, sinking to your knees as you watched the fire grow.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as feeling returned to your hands and feet. You hung your head, your body wracked with sobs. Everything that had been building for the last month came to a head. You got to your feet, rising with a newfound purpose as you walked towards your father’s carcass. Swiping the box of matches off the side table, you light one. Standing over his body, you dropped the match, watching as it fell and caught against the wooden floor. 

It doesn’t spread as fast as you’d like it to, so you light another, dropping it onto the kitchen table. Smoke starts to fill your lungs, stinging your eyes and throat as you light off every single remaining match. You cough and spit as you move backwards, into your room. Laying down on your bed, pulling Arthur’s coat tighter around your body as you try to recall Charles’ scent or his smile. 

-

They’re lucky, the tracks are deep and nothing has come by to cover them. Arthur’s breath has gone ragged, another thing for Charles to worry about as they urge the horses faster. 

“There!” Arthur yelled, cutting himself off with a dry cough. Black smoke rises in the distance,  too much and too dark for a simple chimney fire. 

“Shit.” Charles mumbled, cracking the reins as he barreled forward. Arthur followed, a resounding ‘hyah’ leaving his lips as they flew across the frozen landscape. 

Charles' heart dropped as he pulled up short, Arthur stopped next to him as both their eyes landed on the scene ahead of them. 

Thick, black smoke billowed up into the air, as bright orange flames began to engulf the house. Arthur jumped off Buell, calling your name as he rushed towards the house. Charles followed him, grabbing his arm as he pulled him back from the burning house. 

“The hell are you doing?” He yelled over the crackling of the fire.

“You’re staying here!” Charles yelled, pushing him backwards.

“I can help damnit!” He growled, fighting back a dry cough.

“I can’t lose both of you!” Charles huffed, grabbing the lapels of Arthur’s coat. The two shared a heated glare, only to break apart at the sickening sound of part of the roof caved in.

“Go! Go get our girl!” Arthur yelled, pushing Charles off of him. Charles ran up the steps, rushing into the house. A body caught his eye, he almost crumpled right then and there. He rubbed his eyes, stumbling over to the body. He swallowed thickly, wetting his dry throat as his eyes landed on the man.

Your father, a hole in his chest. The fire hadn’t killed him, you had. Served him right.

He turned away from the corpse, his voice raw as he yelled for you. He burst through one of the doors, his eyes landing on you. Curled up in bed, wrapped in Arthur’s blue coat. His heart was in his throat as he moved forward, smoke strangling him as he pulled you into his arms. 

Arthur stood unmoving as he watched in horror as the house crumbled. Yelling for both you and Charles. Breath returned to his lungs as Charles walked out of the door, your tiny frame in his arms.

“Is she alive?” He asked, catching Charles as he stumbled forward. They both dropped to their knees, brushing the soot from your hair. Charles was unable to stop the ragged cough that wracked through his body. Spittle built up in the corner on his lips as he braced himself on the cold ground.

Arthur ripped off his gloves, shoving them onto your cold hands as he leaned over you. His ear over your heart, praying to anyone listening that he’d hear the rhythmic thumping. Your chest refused to rise, he grit his teeth so hard his jaw ached as he parted your lips. Breathing air into your mouth. His chest burned, the sharp ache returning in full force. Charles pulled him off of you, taking over for him.

“Please, please darlin’ breathe.” Arthur mumbled, grabbing your gloved hand.

Your eyes snapped open, gasping for air as Charles pulled back.

“Oh, thank god.” Arthur let out a ragged relieved breath, not noticing the biting cold seeping through his pants as he sat back in the snow. Charles held the back of your neck, supporting you as you coughed and sputtered.

“Get the horses.” Charles muttered, wiping away the spittle at the corner of your mouth. Everything felt so hazy, like you were looking through the smoke that had filled your former home. You watched as Arthur brought the horses over, taking Arthur's hand as he helped you get on Taima’s back. You wrapped your arms around Charles, hanging onto him.

“Tighten your grip.” He huffed, grabbing your arm and pulling it closer around him. Arthur’s brows furrowed as he glanced back at the two of you one more time before getting onto Buell.

The ride back to the cabin had been much too quiet. The tension was almost suffocating, as the only sound came from the horses as they huffed and snorted. Along with Arthur’s badly hidden coughs. Charles was stiff as a board in front of you as your head rested between his shoulder blades.

You wondered if you'd ever get the stench of smoke out of your hair, your clothes. Well- Arthur’s clothes- his beautiful blue coat now dusted with soot. 

You still didn’t understand why they had gone after you. They were happy before you came along, you were an inconvenience, a pest. 

Perhaps it would have been better if Charles had never found you out in the snow. If you had died along with Father. Now you owe Charles two life debts. 

Charles and Arthur had pulled the horses up to the front of the cabin. 

“Help her inside, I’ll put the horses away.” Charles said, his tone indicating there would be no arguing with him. Arthur nodded, swinging his legs over Buell. He passed the reins over to Charles before holding his arms up for you. You held onto his shoulders as his hands landed on your waist, gently pulling you off of Taima’s rump and down beside him in the snow. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest as the two of you walked into the house.

Arthur helped you take off his coat. You wondered if it would ever be that bright blue again, or if the dark black stains would forever be sewn into the fabric. 

That dull cough broke through the silence as Arthur shuddered, holding onto the table as he tried to catch his breath. Your heart clenched painfully at the noise, guilting eating you up inside. As soon as he caught his breath, Arthur moved to the fireplace, striking a match as he started to get the fire going. You sat down in one of the chairs, taking off Arthur’s gloves and laying them down on the table. At least you had returned them to their rightful owner now. 

The fire started to crackle, slowly growing in the fireplace. You stared into the flames, playing the events of the day over again in your head. Seeing Father again, striking match after match, feeling the heat through your bedroom door. The thick, smoky air and how it seemed to weigh heavily on you. Making it harder and harder to breathe, until everything went dark. 

“C’mere.” Arthur said, pulling you out of your thoughts as he beckoned you over to the fireplace.

You warmed your body by the fire, your hands burning at the sudden shift in temperature. Your whole body felt as though it was thawing. Arthur walked over to the front door, hanging his-Charles- coat up on the rack. 

The door swung open as Charles stomped inside, slamming the door close behind him. 

“Got the horses situated?” Arthur asked, turning to face him. Charles grunted in response, taking off his coat and gloves. “Should probably bring the tub in,” Arthur added, feigning nonchalance as he very obviously tested the waters. “The both of you will be needing a bath.” Charles leaned against the table, gripping the edge. 

“The hell were you thinking?” His voice came out a low growl as his eyes found yours. You clenched your jaw, shame blooming in your cheek as you lowered your gaze. “You have nothing to say?” He asked with a small scoff. “You could have died! Hell, Arthur ain’t doing much better.” He said, throwing his arm up as he motioned to Arthur. 

“Charles I’m fine-“ Arthur started, before Charles cut him off.

“Don’t.” He warned, fire burning in his dark obsidian eyes. “We were worried sick.” He huffed turning on you.

“I didn’t ask you to come after me.” You whispered, hot frustrated tears pricking your eyes. 

“What?” He asked with a low hiss, his brows furrowed.

“I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for you to save me then and I didn’t ask for it now.” You sounded absolutely pathetic, your voice cracking as you spoke. You couldn’t help the tears that broke past your waterline and rolled down your cheeks. You watched as the tension slowly melted off of Arthur’s shoulders. However, Charles wasn’t letting you off so easily.

“You didn’t have to!” He huffed, shaking his head. “God, what was going through your head?” 

“Now let’s all just settle down-“ Arthur cut in, holding his hands up as though trying to calm a spooked animal.

“Why do you care anyway? You have each other, you certainly don’t need me intruding on the two of you!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Charles huffed, straightening up, his arms crossed over his broad chest. You pursed your lips, looking between the two of them. Charles breathless moans playing over and over in your head.

“I- I heard the two of you.” It was like all the air was suddenly sucked out of the cabin. Both Arthur and Charles froze, the only sound was the crackling fire as you stared at them. 

“H-How much did you hear?” Arthur asked, clearing his throat as he took a step forward. The wooden floor creaked under him as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Charles.

“Enough.” Blood rushed to your cheeks as you looked away from them, that uncomfortable feeling building in your gut. You could hear one of them shift, moving back and forth on each foot. 

“Well, we know your daddy didn’t die of the cold.” Arthur said suddenly. Your head shot up, staring at the two of them with wide eyes. Charles gave Arthur a look, which he ignored. “So what are you gonna do?” He asked, pursing his lips.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything!” You scoffed, shaking your head. Your brows furrowed as you looked from Arthur to Charles. “I don’t- I don’t have a problem with whatever you two do, whoever you are.” You said crossing your arms as you looked down at your feet. 

“We don’t blame you for what you did.” Charles said, holding up his hand. His voice had taken on a much softer tone than before. Glancing over at Arthur before he spoke again, “We just- we won’t say anything if you don’t say anything.” 

“I’m-“ You let out a shaky breath, “I didn’t mean to it just- it just happened.” You whispered, your voice breaking.

“And no one blames you for it, sweetheart.” Arthur said softly, “There’s no doubt that bastard got what he deserved.” 

You sniffled, wiping away the tears that slipped down your cheeks with the back of your hand. 

“We haven’t… we haven’t been fully truthful with you.” Charles said, leaning against the table. Arthur stiffens, looking like a scolded child next to Charles. “Arthur and I… we ran with a gang, it’s how we met.” He admits. “You’ve probably heard of the Van Der Linde gang?” Your eyes widen, so that’s what Arthur meant when he said he had blood on his hands. 

“I was with them for longer than Charles.” Arthur spoke up, taking a step closer. “Since I was fourteen, Dutch and Hosea, they took me in and in return I gave them my blind loyalty.” He spit, shaking his head. “I ain’t a good man. I’ve done a lot of bad things but I’m- I’m trying to be better.”

Suddenly it clicked, like the final piece of a puzzle. You knew where you recognized Arthur from. You and your father had traveled to the United States, a few years back. You had been standing in the train station, looking up at the flyers on the bulletin board. You had seen his wanted poster, his scowling face staring back at you from the paper. 

He looked much more handsome in person. 

“I ain’t much better.” You mumbled, shaking your head. “My father didn’t deserve to die. No one does.”

“Ain’t much better?” Arthur scoffed, “Sweetheart, he deserved what he got, and more.”

“It was self defense.” Charles cut in, “You were only protecting yourself.” 

“It still wasn’t right!” You shook your head, “What am I gonna do now? I don’t- I don’t have anything. Everything’s likely gone, burned up.” You put your head in your hands, “Oh god I’m such a fool.”

“Hey,” Arthur’s voice was soft as he gently pulled your hands away from your face. “You don’t gotta worry about any of that right now, ya hear?” You nodded, sniffling as you looked up into his deep blue eyes. “Charles and I… We’ll be here for you, if you want to stay.” He said hesitantly.

“I-“ you bit your lip, chewing a piece of skin off. “I shouldn’t.” Arthur swallowed thickly, nodding as he pulled away.

“If that’s what you want.” He said, resting his hands on his belt. It wasn’t what you wanted. It was the last thing you wanted. To be alone again, to be without them again. Hell, you probably wouldn’t survive on your own.

“We won’t force you to stay.” Charles said softly, looking down at the table, “But at least stay a couple nights.” He raised his eyes to meet yours. “I’ll- I’ll take you to town in a couple days if you’d like.” He offered.

You knew it was the best decision, stay a few more days and then find something to do once he took you to town. 

“Alright, thank you, I’ll stay for a few days.” You nodded. They both physically relaxed, like they were both hanging on to every word. 

“Alright.” Arthur nodded, clearing his throat as he nodded. “We’ll uh- we’ll get the tub and water going.” 

-

You sat at the table, watching as they melted the snow in a kettle above the fireplace. Pouring each pail of hot water into the tub. They offered you first bath, another kindness on their part. You assumed they would probably share once you were done.

Heat flooded your cheeks at the image you conjured up in your head. Both Charles and Arthur, naked in the warm water. Bathing each other, touching, kissing. 

You cleared your throat, looking back down at the grooves on the wooden table.

Little did you know that Arthur and Charles were trying to come up with a plan. Some way to convince you to stay more than a few nights. Some way to convince you to stay forever. 

“Before Charles there…” Arthur spoke up, his cheeks a deep rose as he looked back at you. “There was Mary. The woman in those pictures you found.” You nodded, swallowing thickly.

“N’ Charles, well he-“

“We fancy either sex.” Charles spoke up, tired of beating around the bush. He met your eyes, his dark obsidian pools boring into yours.

You looked between the two of them.

“I’m sorry I- I don’t understand.” You said furrowing your brows slightly. 

“Darlin’ we-“ Arthur cut himself off with a sigh. Your heart skipping a beat at the petname.

“We want you to stay.” Charles said, finishing Arthur's sentence.

“Now I- I’m real grateful for your hospitality but I-“ You sighed biting your lip, “I don’t wanna intrude-“

“Who said you would be?” Charles asked, pouring the last pail into the tub. Steam gently rising off of its crystal surface. “We want you here.”

You pursed your lips, looking from Charles to Arthur. Your stomach clenched as you saw the pure yearning in both of their eyes. 

No. No you wouldn’t get your hopes up. 

“We want you.” Charles said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“What?” You asked, your mouth going dry as the implications set in.

“We want you if- if you want us, too.” Arthur said, looking up at you.

“H-how would that even work?” You asked, knowing this offer was too good to be true. No one ever wanted you. Sure, some boys did, for a roll around in the hay and then they’d never look your way again. 

But Charles and Arthur were nothing like the boys in town. They- they made you feel alive. Not only for two seconds or minutes, it wasn’t some passing fancy. Your blood seemed to sing around them. Like they had breathed life into your very essence. 

“We both… care for you. You care about us, don’t you?” 

“Of course I do.” You answered way too quickly, your heartbeat pounding in your ear. 

The tension was near suffocation as the three of you stood there, staring at each other. 

“Then why not see where this goes?” Charles asked, taking a step towards you. Your heart thudded against your ribcage as you struggled to take in a full breath. You had to be dreaming, or perhaps you had perished in the fire. For there was no feasible way that this was actually happening. 

“Okay.” Your soft reply surprised yourself as much as it surprised them. A small, boyish smile spread across Arthur’s face. A relieved, almost disbelieving huff leaving his lips.

Charles moved towards you, slowly, giving you a chance to move and put distance between the two of you if you wished.

But there was nothing more that you wanted than to touch them. Feel the heat of their bodies against yours, under your fingertips. Your feet were glued to the spot as you stared up at him. He stood only a foot or two in front of you, his hand hesitantly raised to cup your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered close at the feeling of his large, warm hand against your skin. You didn’t care that his hands were calloused and scarred, he held you as though you could fall apart in his grasp. Which you had a feeling you could. He tilted your head upwards, his breath puffing against your cheek as he looked down at you. His gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips. Then slowly leaned down, his lips connecting with yours.

They were much softer than you had imagined. Plump and warm as they moved against yours. His other hand threaded through the hair at the nape of your neck pulling you closer. Your hands rested on his broad chest, feeling the heat and tension beneath his clothes. 

You were so distracted by Charles that you didn’t even notice Arthur come up behind you. He placed a tentative hand on your waist, the other on Charles' arm. Charles pulled away from your lips, hiding a smile as your mouth moved after him. He ducked his head to press hot open mouthed kisses against your neck. Arthur turned your head towards him, brushing his nose against yours. You pulled one hand away from Charles to cup Arthur’s cheek, pulling him closer.

Now that you had had a taste of the men, you couldn’t stop yourself. His beard scratched along your palm as you held him against you. His lips pressed against yours as Charles sucked bruises onto your neck and any other exposed skin he could find. 

You moaned into Arthur’s mouth, unable to control yourself. Not that you wanted to. Yes you knew it was wrong, but then why did it feel so right? 

Is this how Pandora felt moments before opening her box? Did she feel the anticipation building in her veins, the almost electric buzzing in her body?

Arthur pressed his tongue against the seam of your lips, wordlessly asking for entrance. Your lips parted without any hesitation, your own tongue passing into his mouth.

Years ago there had been a boy in town who you had sworn up and down you would marry. You thought no one would ever make you feel like he did, maybe you were right. This feeling building inside your chest, threatening to burst out of you, is a thousand times more powerful than that ever was.

“Water’s getting cold.” Charles mumbled against your neck, nipping at your collarbone. 

You smirked against Arthur’s lips, knowing there was no way in hell it was getting cold. Maybe now it would be tolerable, not scalding as it had been before. 

“Perhaps we should do somethin’ about that Mr. Smith.” Arthur’s deep, raspy voice sent shivers down your spine as he pulled back. Their eyes met and it was like watching a summer storm. The near electric current that passed between them was intoxicating. Arthur grabbed Charles by the back of his neck, pulling him into a harsh kiss. Teeth clashed and it was clear they had been holding back for you. But you didn’t want sweet, you wanted them. 

You pulled away from their hold, their eyes immediately finding you. An almost vulnerability there in their gaze. Although their furrowed brows quickly relaxed as you tugged your skirt down. Arthur made quick work with his shirt, tearing at his clothes like they were burning him. 

Your heart was damn near beating out of your chest as you pulled your shirt off, leaving you only in your shift. You could feel the heat and wetness start to gather between your legs. Your core aching as you watched the men dress down. 

Arthur and Charles were in their union suits, all three of you frozen as though waiting for the other to make the first move. Your eyes were drawn downwards to their cocks, you weren’t ashamed to admit it. Although you wondered how something that big would fit inside you. 

You swallowed thickly, finding your mouth dry at the sight of them. Your eyes passed from Charles to Arthur. Arthur’s hands twitched at his waist, you assumed this was how he looked before a gun fight, albeit more clothed. The anticipation, waiting to see who would draw first. The thought sent heat down to your core, and in some twisted way you wished you could have seen him at his prime. 

Charles' chest heaved with each heavy breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared you down. His dark brown eyes almost obsidian with how blown wide his pupils were.

They were waiting for you. 

They were waiting for you to make the first move. Even though you could feel the almost primal want radiating from them, they were still holding back. And that made you want them even more.

You grabbed your shift, pulling it over your head, before stepping out of your bloomers. You didn’t have time to worry about whether they would like what they saw as you stepped into the tub. An involuntary sigh left you as you sank into the warm water. Goosebumps erupted on your skin as the heat enveloped you.

“There’s room for two more.” You said looking over at them, honestly questioning if the three of you could actually fit in the tub. Maybe if you sat on one of their laps.

Arthur moved first, shucking his union suit off before striding over to you. His cock sprung up onto his belly, a thatch of curling brown hair at his base. Charles wasn’t far behind him and soon all three of you managed to get in the tub.

You had imagined they would pounce on you as soon as they could, but they didn’t. Instead Charles took to lathering the soap in his hands before handing it to Arthur. As Charles cleaned his toned body, Arthur began to clean you. He gently washed away the soot and ash from your face and hair. Before he started to spread the soap on your body. Once you were clean, Charles took the soap back and began to clean Arthur. It didn't take very long, but he wasn't nearly as filthy as you and Charles. Then Arthur moved to brush through Charles' hair, meticulously working out any knots without tugging on his scalp. Charles motioned for you to turn in the tub, it was a tight fit but you managed. The three of you would clean up the water that sloshed onto the floor once you were finished. 

Charles then ran his fingers through your hair, untangling it. There was nothing sexual about the act even though the three of you were as naked as the day you were born. You were simply serving each other.

Arthur finished cleaning Charles' hair, moving the wet raven curtain off to one side of his shoulder as he kissed up his neck.

Charles hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. You turned to look at the two of them, the fire sparking deep in your belly. You needed them, you needed to have them. 

You moved forward, running your hand down Charles' chest. He grabbed your hand before you could reach his appendage between his legs.

“You gotta work up to that darlin’.” He said breathlessly, “Take Arthur first.”

Charles moved to give you better access to Arthur, you were now squished between the two of them. Arthur’s hands ran down your waist, settling on your hips.

“You’ve done this before?” He asked, his bright eyes finding yours. 

“Not with two men.” You said with a weak chuckle. Arthur cracked a smile, pulling you closer. 

“We’ll be gentle sweetheart.” He promised, “And you tell us if you wanna stop, ya hear?” The teasing glint vanished from his eyes.

You nodded, swallowing thickly as you settled over his hips. “I don’t wanna stop.” Charles moved behind you, his hands palming your tits. You gasped as he pinched one of your nipples.

“Sensitive.” He hummed as Arthur’s hands ran up and down your thighs. Your head was spinning, trying to keep your focus on both of them at the same time. Arthur’s thumb found your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves. 

You moaned, your eyes fluttering shut as you twitched. Your body involuntarily jumped with each pass of his calloused thumb.

“Arthur-“ You said breathlessly, feeling the tight coil of pleasure build in your belly.

“I’m here sweetheart, we’re here.” He said softly, thrusting a finger into your core. 

“Oh god.” You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as you teetered on the edge.

“C’mon, open those pretty eyes for me.” He cooed, smirking up at you. You opened them, tears brimming in your eyes as he added a second finger. “Gotta open you up, get you real nice and ready for me and Charles, ain’t that right?” 

His words and his fingers had you on the edge, Charles managed to push you over as he rolled your nipples between his forefinger and thumb. 

You came with a cry, digging your nails into Arthur’s shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. You ground down on his hand, riding out your orgasm.

“Atta girl,” Arthur cooed, pulling his hand out before notching his head at your entrance. Your breath hitched as you felt his head push past your opening. Both of you let out a moan as you slowly sunk down onto him. 

Charles chuckled darkly behind you, his hands settling on your waist. “So pretty,” He mumbled.

“F-fuck Arthur.” You stuttered, biting your lip as you looked down at him. He completely filled you, the hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit. You whimpered as he thrusted up into you.

“Shit, sorry.” He said through gritted teeth, it was obvious he was trying to hold back, trying to give you time to adjust to his girth. 

“M’okay.” You said breathlessly, “Move.” You pleaded.

“Give me a minute.” He huffed, his azure pools finding yours.

“Arthur,” You whined, squirming on top of him.

“God, she’s squeezing me so tight.” He growled, his head falling to the valley of your breasts. Charles had decided he had enough, his hands raising your hips off of him before slamming you back down onto Arthur.

“Charles.” Arthur moaned, nipping at the tender flesh of your breast. You felt electric, pleasure shooting through your body with each thrust. Water sloshed over the side of the tub as Charles slammed you down onto Arthur’s cock.

“Oh- oh god!” You whimpered, your toes curling as your mind went blank. Like the crack of a whip, the building pressure inside you broke. You clamped down on Arthur, crying out as your orgasm overtook you. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit-“ Arthur babbled, his hands replacing Charles as he began to ruthlessly thrust into you. Chasing his own high while you rode yours out. He quickly pulled you off of him, twitching as he spilled his seed into the warm water. A deep rumbling moan leaving his lips, his brows pinched together as he squeezed his eyes shut.

He was gorgeous.

You panted, leaning back against Charles' large frame. Arthur chuckled breathlessly, leaning forward as he chased after you. He cupped your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. You sighed softly into his mouth, feeling Charles against your back.

“Think he’s been mighty patient, don’t you sweetheart?” Arthur asked, barely pulling away from your lips to speak.

“Mmhm.” You nodded, boneless as Arthur moved you on top of Charles.

“Atta girl.” He praised, kissing your temple before laying back on the side of the tub.

“You sure about this?” Charles asked, his dark mocha eyes finding yours. Your head lolled forward and back, a blissed out smile on your lips.

“I want you. Both of you.” You said cupping his cheek, running your thumb over the lightning strike scar there. He groaned, his hands grabbing your butt as he pulled you closer. He rubbed you against his length, your lips parting with each pass of his head. “Charles,” You whined, starting to get overstimulated from the motion. Your body twitching as his head bumped against your clit.

“I got you baby.” He mumbled, reaching down to notch himself at your entrance.

“Fuck-“ You gasped as he began to stretch you open. You were glad they made you take Arthur first. He hummed, the noise coming from deep within his chest, sending shivers down your spine. “Charles-“

“You can take it.” He cooed, running his hands up and down your sides.

You could. You would take it.

You sat down on him fully, the breath nearly knocked out of you.

“It’s big ain’t it sweetheart?” Arthur cooed in your ear, you nodded another whine leaving your lips.

“Shit- you were right about her being so damn tight.” Charles said through gritted teeth. He leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth before he started rocking you up and down.

You knew you sounded pathetic, mewling with each raise of his hips. You couldn’t even say what he was doing was called ‘thrusting’. 

“Ngh- Charles!” You cried, tears brimming in your eyes. Your legs trembled on each side of his thick thighs.

“Go on, let go baby.” He huffed, clenching his jaw. His thumb reached down between your legs, rubbing at your clit. A choked sob leaving your lips as you came. White hot pleasure rushed through your body as you shook on top of him. 

Hands, hands all over you. Petting, caressing, rubbing. 

“That’s our girl.” Arthur cooed in your ear, his warm chest against your back as Charles moved you up and down on him. 

“Our girl.” Charles groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust up into you with wild abandon. Your head was spinning, staring down at Charles through half lidded eyes. “Oh- oh-“ Charles grit his teeth, pulling you off of him as he came. His dick twitching under the water as a blissed out smile overtook his face. 

The three of you panted, collapsing onto Charles, feeling the wild thumping of his heart under your ear. Arthur ran his hand up and down your spine, his other resting on Charles thigh.

“Think we outta bathe again.” He chuckled, grinning at the two of you. Charles laughed breathlessly, pressing his lips against your temple. He reached for Arthur, grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck as he pulled into a searing kiss.

-

Somehow the three of you made your way into bed. Resting naked under the flannel sheets as you mapped out their bodies.

You and Charles rested your heads against Arthur’s chest, trailing your hand up and down his chest. Threading your fingers through the hair that trailed down his belly. 

“You… you really want me to stay?” You asked, looking up at the two of them. Arthur scoffed, raising his head to meet your eyes.

“Did we not prove that to you in the tub?” He asked, raising a brow. Charles chuckled, a smile spreading across his lips.

“Sweetheart,” He said softly, cupping your cheek, “we want you to stay.” You smiled, hiding your face in Arthur’s chest. A small chuckle escaped Arthur as he wrapped his arms around the two of you.

“You’re our girl, course we want you to stay.”

As the three of you laid in post-sex bliss, only one thought filled your head. You had found your home, and it wasn’t a place, it was wherever they were. 

[ninzied]

and patience, and pining

in which alex is determined to flirt so hard that henry can no longer resist him. a modern au. based on the prompt: surprise kiss/impulsive kiss. ~1.8k.

Between the two of them, Alex has always thought he’d be the one to cave first.

They’ve both arrived at the same time. Henry looks stupid-good in his well-fitted tuxedo. His hair is just over-styled enough that Alex wants to mess it up, and badly.

How one man can be so like this is frankly upsetting. No, scratch that; it’s illegal, is what it is. Criminal law is not Alex’s domain, but he’s pretty sure being this tempting in public is a certifiable offense.

“Alex,” says Henry, and he blinks, at least some sense returning to him.

“Right,” he says. “Shall we?”

Henry gives him a look like he’d rather be anywhere else on the planet, which, the reception is not even open bar, so Alex can’t say he disagrees.

“After you, Your Majesty,” he says, stepping from the door with a flourish, then, “I saw that.”

“Saw what?” asks Henry, already shouldering past him with his chin turned up.

“If I had a dollar for every time you rolled your eyes at me—”

“Good taste still can’t be bought, Alex.”

“That’s ironic,” Alex shoots back, smiling and nodding at one of the guests as they enter. “Considering my tie is way better than yours.”

Henry lifts his hand at another in greeting, and even his wave looks fucking majestic, the asshole. “I trust you’ll be at least somewhat behaved this evening?”

“You sure that’s what you want, sweetheart?”

Henry’s expression turns very dour, and Alex wonders, not for the first time, why that particular look on him makes Alex so crazy. The more severe Henry gets, the wilder Alex’s impulse to kiss him, and the urge to just give in.

Alex licks his lips.

Henry takes a cautionary step back. “Let’s do try to make it through the rest of the night without much carnage, yes?”

“I don’t know,” Alex muses. “When you threaten me with a good time like that…”

Henry mutters something under his breath and Alex can’t help but grin. Maybe the night holds some promise after all.

.

He decides he’s going to have to walk that back after a while.

The music is decent, and he was wrong about the open bar, thank God, but he’s barely seen Henry since some crusty-looking Wall Street types whisked him and Pez away to talk business, and Alex is bored.

He wants to dance. He wants to dance—with Henry. And because that’s not going to happen, Alex wants to do the next best thing, which is to dance while Henry pretends not to watch, but he’s not even facing the dance floor right now so there would be no fucking point. He’ll have to think of something else. Hmmm.

Nora shimmies up to him then with two new flutes of champagne. Bless. “Still pining?” she asks.

Alex whips around to glare at her, wounded. “What? Nora, no,” he says. Is it that obvious? Fuck.

Nora shrugs. “You do the thing where you look him when you think he won’t notice. Both of you. You guys kind of have it down to a science.”

Alex brightens immediately. “You’ve seen him looking at me?”

Nora sips her champagne. “Right now, for example.”

Henry looks quickly away when Alex glances over, which is as good an invitation as any in his book. One of the suits is talking at Henry, who seems about as engaged as a teapot right now. Pez has dialed up the charisma, distracting them easily from Henry’s silence. But to Alex, Henry looks downright miserable in comparison.

Well, Alex is here to do something about that.

He plucks the second flute from Nora’s hand. “You’re the best. Gotta go.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t pining?”

“For that guy?” Alex gazes at Henry again, then says, quite honestly, “Always.”

.

It takes exactly two minutes for the Wall Street guys to politely excuse themselves. Alex watches them practically dissolve their way into the crowd, like a creepy bunch of Mr. Smiths from The Matrix, and he suppresses a shudder.

The look on Henry’s face is an appealing combination of annoyed and relieved. “Let me guess,” Alex deadpans, “you’re so grateful you could just kiss me right now.”

Henry’s expression turns distinctly disapproving as Pez chimes in, “Be patient and Hazza might even learn to admit it someday.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.” Alex grins sideways at Henry, who’s flushing the loveliest pink despite also frowning. “You’re welcome for rescuing you from the most tedious conversation known to man, by the way.”

“Actually, darling dearest,” Pez says lightly, “we were speaking with potential investors in the foundation.”

Oh. Shit. “Do you want me to charm them back over?” Alex wants to know, jerking a thumb in the direction they’d gone. “It is well within my power.”

“Not necessary.” Henry pulls a face. “I would’ve felt dirty about taking their money.”

“I would’ve felt wonderfully about it,” says Pez. “But now that you’ve freed up my dance card…” He cranes his neck around.

“Nora’s over there,” Alex says helpfully.

“Brilliant.” Pez’s eyes are the definition of sparkling. “Ah, and I see your sister’s about to join her. If you boys will excuse me—”

He helps himself to the rest of Alex’s champagne before sashaying off.

The two of them remain standing there a careful few feet apart, not looking at each other. Not that it matters; Alex is so hyperaware of him that he could reach over without even looking and take Henry’s hand if he wanted to. He won’t, but he wants to.

Knowing that he can is enough for now.

Henry looks askance at him after a moment. “You’re making this very hard, you know.”

Alex somehow manages not to smile at that. “Am I?”

Henry’s face screws up in faux concentration. “Let’s see. You’ve been a merciless flirt, even more so than usual. You wore the tie I bought you, which means you don’t hate it—”

“What? I love it,” interrupts Alex, just to be clear.

“—and you just drove off a very lucrative, albeit morally questionable, investment opportunity.” Henry’s also holding back a smile. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to not kiss you for that alone.”

“You still could,” Alex points out.

“And lose your silly bet?” Henry straightens, adjusting his cufflinks, and that might be the single hottest thing Alex has ever seen. “I think not. We both know you’ll be the first to give in.”

It’s true, Alex thinks; he’s pretty irresistible, but Henry is also far more controlled. Still, there’s a certain satisfaction in knowing that Alex gets to be the one who stretches him to his very limit. The level of restraint it takes Henry to resist him is a pretty big turn-on, if he’s being honest. Even when Henry wins, it will be no great loss on Alex’s part.

“Considering what’s at stake here,” Alex says lowly, leaning in just enough to catch the way Henry’s eyes darken, “I think I win either way.”

Henry does smile then, soft and warm and way too tempting not to kiss, though Alex perseveres. “I think we both do, darling.”

“That we can agree on,” says Alex. “So, do you want to…not…dance with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

.

He slips up, once.

It’s in a goddamn photo booth of all things, and Alex would feel like such a cliché if he weren’t so busy feeling annoyed at the fact that he can’t hold Henry’s hand or kiss him in front of the camera. Instead, he lets Nora and June wedge in between them, grinning gamely when they take turns kissing Henry on the cheek.

At the literal last second before the flash is going off, Alex feels Henry take his hand from behind, lace their fingers ever so gently together, and squeeze.

In the photo that prints out, June and Nora are doubled over in laughter, eyes closed, unaware. Henry has his chin tipped up, his face doing some smoldery thing at the camera, and Alex is turned, simply gazing at him.

He takes it before anyone sees, tucking it safely into his wallet because bet or no bet, some things really are too sacred to share.

When he shows it to Henry later, Henry gets the same lovestruck look on his face as Alex does in the photo, and that’s all he needs.

.

It’s the cake that finally does it.

Pez, Nora and June are all crowded around the same piece, and it makes Alex sigh a little wistfully to think about how much better it would taste if he were sharing his with Henry.

He can’t help it. He peers at Henry’s own slice, squinting. “What flavor is that one?”

“Strawberry,” says Henry. There’s a crumb on his lip, and Alex doesn’t mean to fixate on it, but he’s now gone hours without kissing his boyfriend and he’s kind of mad about it even though it’s also kind of his fault. “Do you want a bite?”

Oh. Yeah, that’ll work. Alex can feel the others’ eyes on them as he leans closer, fully expecting that Henry will yield to his instincts and feed him a piece off his fork. It’s not a kiss, but it could definitely qualify as losing the bet. And then once Alex has won, he can not only kiss Henry as much as he likes, he gets to take Henry home with him and—well.

He frowns when Henry only holds the plate out. “Here, have some,” says Henry, gaze lifting to his, then just a bit lower. “Oh. Hang on, you’ve got a—”

In a move that’s beyond Alex’s wildest dreams, Henry cups his jaw and kisses the side of his mouth, with just the slightest bit of tongue.

Alex grins as Henry freezes against him, realizing his mistake too late. “Thanks, baby.”

“Bollocks,” says Henry. He pulls back and sighs, licking the rest of the buttercream from his lips. “I’ve lost, haven’t I.” Then, accusingly, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you.”

“I’d say I don’t kiss and tell, but.” Alex puts his hands on Henry’s thighs, using that grip to scoot their chairs closer together. “I am gonna kiss you now, so.”

“You’ll be getting to do a lot more than that,” Henry points out.

“Ew, did not need to hear that part,” June groans at the same time that Pez puts down their cake and says, “Please, I need to hear more.”

“There’s a legally binding document and everything,” says Alex, to Henry’s chagrin and Pez’s delight. “Drafted it up myself.”

“You two were pining that hard and you were already together?” Nora wants to know. “Actually, that tracks. Carry on.”

Henry has gone as pink as the cake now, but he’s smiling when Alex swipes up some more buttercream, touching it to Henry’s mouth before leaning the rest of the way in.

[dragonfly0808]

TimeBomb (Fix-It?) Fic with a side of Zaun Revolution

The inspiration really hit today, I feel like I blinked and all of a sudden I had 7k of a new fic.

what is it about? Well…

Whilst I really enjoyed s2 of Arcane and I loved almost everything about it, I will admit there was one specific plot point I was really disapointed didn’t go anywhere and one character decision that I just couldn’t get behind.

First off; watching Arc 1/2 and especially episode 4 I was fucking pumped at the idea of a Zaun revolution plotline, and, since i watched the seasons back to back, I’ll be honest, watching episode 4 combined with the fact that in the opening credits we see Jinx waving a flag, my immediate thoughts were OH MY FUCKING GOD JINX IS GONNA LEAD A REVOLUTION AND FULLFILL SILCO’S DREAM OF AN INDEPENDENT ZAUN…

Obviously I felt like a clown when that did not happen

and then for the character decision… I’m not really a fan of the ‘you’re too far gone the only thing you can do now is sacrifice yourself for the greater good/to save someone’ character arc. Especially because I really wanted to see Jinx get better since, at the end of s1 her identity crisis is over, she choses Jinx and then I thought that maybe we could get maybe not a redemption arc but at least see her get better whilst staying partially chaotic

A part of me really likes what they did (up until her sacrifice) but a greater part of me is just- disappointed. Especially after the whole ‘No matter what happened in the past it’s never too late to build something new’ bit. It just felt a little cruel.

And i know of the Jinx is alive theory and I believe it but still- I just don’t like that this was the end for Jinx in Arcane, I would’ve loved to see her and Cait having to come to terms with both their crimes and what they allowed their respective grief to turn them into.

also Ekko didn’t deserve to end the series alone, not after everything he did and everything he gave up.

and so, with these two specific things in mind, pondering on it I found myself writing a little smth.

A fic that takes place right after the Stillwater breakout BUT- Jinx, Sevika and Isha escape before the Beast gets there AND Ekko returns from the alternate timeline early, pushing Jinx along with Sevika to convince her to be a part of the rebellion.

So far, I’ve got 7k words on this and I’m thinking on how to involve Vi (another thing is that I felt we should’ve gotten a bit more time with her) since, in my mind, the revolution of Zaun should’ve been led by Vi, Ekko and Jinx.

Ekko to represent the fight for the future and as the face of the Firelights.

Jinx to represent the fight for the present (since her arc would involve starting to heal and finding smth worth fighting for) and of course to also represent Silco and his dream

And Vi to represent the past (since a big part of her character is being stuck in the past) and Vander

Jinx and Vi get to right the wrongs of the past and join forces like Silco and Vander never got to! (Because why include that letter if nothing really came from it?) also, as a sister who’s had a lot of ups and downs with her big sister, I would’ve KILLED to get to see more of their new dynamic ‘Here’s to the new us’.

Also Isha lives because she deserved better and also Ekko gets to be her dad.

still unsure on how/if I incorporate Cait cause I LOVE her arc and would love to write her and Jinx/Ekko interacting

but yeah basically, this is a Timebomb fic with a heavy focus on Jinx becoming the leader of a revolution (since at first it’s more, Jinx is the symbol, Ekko is the brains. And maybe at some point it’s more like; Ekko is the heart, Jinx is the symbol/leader and Vi is the strength OR Ekko is the leader/brains, Jinx is the symbol/leader/face and Vi is the heart, you know cause- YOU HAVE A GOOD HEART DON’T EVER LOSE IT)

Also a big part of chapter 2 somehow wound up being a look into Sevika’s mindset and why she’s lowkey the biggest supporter of Zaun? So if you like Sevika I got you!

so uhh… yeah.

i’m thinking on the name and just to know what yall think, knowing what the focus would be what title do you think would work best?

Will prob start posting once I’ve got 5 chapters, which, if I keep up the pace will prob be in 2 or 3 days

also, should i tag it as Fix-It? Not sure if I should tbh

Here’s a few little peaks! A tiny part of Ekko convincing Jinx to be a symbol (that was a LONG scene)/Part of the speech that starts it all/Isha being adorable in the Firelight’s base

Ekko adjusted his coat on her, she hadn’t really noticed him getting close enough to do so, “I fought so long to make the undercity a better place, or to at least create a safe place in it, but I got so wrapped up in all the ways that we’ve been screwed over, failed, in all the ways that it wasn’t even half of what I’d dreamed of no matter how hard I tried that I was starting to lose hope. But seeing that world… it helped me realize that… no matter what happened in the past, it’s never too late to build something new.” 

Jinx forced herself to met his eyes, unsure of what to do under the weight of his soft eyes and the careful way he’d somehow gotten his hands in hers, stopping her from digging her nails into her palms.

“…someone worth building it for.”

Jinx felt something in her starting to crack, “I don’t know if I know how to build anything.”

“That’s alright,” he quickly assured her, his own eyes glittering with tears, “we can learn. This right here Jinx… this is our chance. I saw the murals, the posters, what you said back in the airshaft- if Piltover is targeting us… then maybe- just maybe, this could be our chance to bring all of the undercity together. To stand against Piltover, make them finally see us. I’m not saying we burn them to the ground but- we can fight back, fight for respect, for a seat at the table.”

Jinx took a step back, shaking her head, “I can’t- I’m not like you- I’m not a leader or- or some inspirational figure. They’re just desperate for anything to believe in. I’m not- I don’t deserve their faith.”

“But you’re the first to take a real stand in a long time. Sure it was an… explosive stand but a stand regardless. Directly against the Council, the people who have passed all the laws to try and make us less than them in the past. Who have had no trouble ignoring our struggles and claiming blissful ignorance when they screw us over. You have the chance to help bring people together. If we can stop killing each other over Piltover’s scraps and for territory… we can stand our ground. This could be the start of a rebellion. A revolution.”

“…I’ll screw it up. I always do.”

“You won’t… and if it does go wrong… it won’t be on you. We can do this Jinx, together.”

Jinx looked back out to the city line.

It’d been Silco’s dream.

To be recognized by Piltover. 

He hadn’t been able to bring Zaun together, sure, but everything he’d done had forced Zaun into progress… even if it wasn’t always in the best of ways. His biggest dream had always been of Zaun being it’s own nation.

It was the dream that’d been within his grasp, close enough to touch but that he had meant to reject in the end.

For her.

She’d bombed the Council as a way to honor him.

To finally show them all.

Everything had gone to shit the moment he was gone.

But now… now all of Zaun had a common enemy. 

There had been no singular group in Stillwater. Instead a coglamoration of Jinxers and Firelights and members from every gang Jinx knew of.

That meant that there had been no division at Sevika’s rally.

That for once, every part of Zaun had been open to the possibility of fighting for the same cause and had been promptly punished for it.

Jinx slowly turned back to Ekko.

Building something knew… he’d said Powder used her abilities to create instead of destroying… could she do the same?

Someone worth building it for… she thought of the hopeful look in Ekko’s eyes. Of the way the people of Zaun had, for a moment, embraced her, wrapping her in gratitude and misplaced but real hope as they passed by her. And of course, she thought of Isha, who deserved so much more than… this.

“I’m not saying I’ll be good at it… but I suppose I could give it a shot.”

Ekko reached out quickly, Jinx barely having time to flinch before he was tugging at her and-

Pulling her into a hug, all but crushing her against him, arms wrapped tightly against him.

She exhaled, falling against him, hiding her face against his chest.

They stayed like that for what was possibly an embarrassingly long time.

When she eventually managed to pull back, she turned away to wipe away her tears.

“So… how exactly does one start a revolution?”

—————————

“This is the time to stand together!” Ekko’s voice came as he stepped out from the crowd, wearing his firelight mask, going to take it off as he went to stand next to Sevika, “To leave aside the labels and separation and to work together, it’s the only way we’ll survive what’s coming next. Piltover wants us divided. They have always benefited from us killing each other, being at each other’s throats, fighting for territory and for their scraps. Not anymore! We need to stand together! To show them that we will not backdown! That they can’t invade our streets, our homes and expect us to just lay down and take it! That-”

“Where is Jinx?!” Demanded a voice, thought she couldn’t tell exactly where it came from.

Ekko sighed, casting a glance her way, waiting.

Jinx took a deep breath.

“Right here!” She called out as she went to take off her cloak, the people around her quickly going to clear a path as she sauntered on forwards, stopping next to Ekko for a moment before going to stand on the metal box Sevika had left on the floor, “You wanted to see me? Well here I am!”

Most of the crowd gathered around her, after a moment of stunned silence, started applauding, whilst some other looked like they wanted nothing more than to shake her and ask her what exactly her plan was.

Jinx glanced to Ekko, who gave her a quiet encouraging nod.

Welp, she didn’t really have anything to lose.

“Now… I don’t know much about leading, or about being some- revolutionary… but I do know about fighting. And I know about Piltover’s crimes.”

She recalled all of Silco’s sermones and every story and complaint he ever told her about all Piltover had and constantly took for granted.

This had never been her dream. But it had been her dad’s. And maybe it had started becoming her own the moment Isha had dropped into her life.

“I know that Enforcers have killed hundreds of us, a lot of times, for no good reason other than to show us that we are lesser than them, for us daring to stand up for ourselves, for doing what we gotta do to survive. That they have thrown dozens of us in cells without a trial just because they can. But the second we lay our hands on a single one of their precious Council members they suddenly have the right to invade our streets? To cry for justice to be delivered? It’s bullshit!”

A lot of them started nodding along, she could see the anger rising up in them.

——————————

Jinx took a deep breath before gently placing Isha on the railing, keeping a hand on the back of her vest, “Look at that kid. You like it?”

Isha’s eyes widened in a way that would’ve been comical if it weren’t heartbreaking. This was probably the first proper tree she’d ever seen.

Jinx set her down on the floor and the girl started jumping from foot to foot, clearly thrilled.

Ekko chuckled as he went to crouch down, “You see that platform to the right?” He asked as he pointed, Isha following before nodding, “That’s where the kids we have here play. We even managed to get our hands on some Piltover toys if you wanna go check it out. Jinx and I will be by the base of the tree if you need us.”

Isha hesitated, going to grab Jinx’s leg.

The girl had gotten a lot more confident since Jinx had first met her but it was obvious she had some anxiety about being apart.

Jinx went to crouch as well, gently running her thumb over Isha’s eyebrow before playfully pinching her cheek, Isha trying to act annoyed and push her away but smiling, “You should go kiddo. See if they got any good stuff. I’ll be right down there, I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Isha inspected her for a long moment before nodding along, adjusting her metal helmet as though it were armor before starting to make her way towards the platform.

“She seems like a good kid.” Ekko said.

“She is. She’s the best.”

[archangeldyke-all]

Helloooo! I'm gonna try my best explaining this but I was wondering if you could write something about sevika having you between her legs and while her legs are forcing your open (hopefully that made sense) and her playing with your pussy? Or maybe even your clit and perhaps edging you thag way aswell? (I really do hope this made sense 😭)

Anyways have a wonderful day and if you don't want to write something like this thags completely fine 😋

heheheheheheheheheheheheeheh... i'm gonna combine this request with another one! hope u enjoy :)

hmmm would you ever write sevika tying reader up? 🫣🫣🫣

men and minors dni

sevika's got your back pressed to her chest, her legs wound around yours to keep your legs spread, as she gently fucks you with two of her fingers. her free hand's groping your tits and stomach, and her mouth has been sucking endless hickeys into your neck and shoulders.

she's had you like this for an hour. and she hasn't let you cum yet.

your hands are clawing at her strong arms, but she doesn't even seem to notice. she's drunk off of you, off of the sounds you're making and the weight of you pressed against her chest, the little twitches of your body when she circles your clit with her dripping wet fingers.

"sev-- please please please lemme cum, i-- ah fuck-- i've been so good for you 'm fuckin dying for it sevika, please!" you whine. sevika chuckles, her chest rumbling against your back and her lips pressing against your ear.

"'y should see how desperate you are right now. so fuckin' hot." she mumbles, ignoring your pleas. you whine and struggle in her hold, but don't get far. sevika sinks her teeth into your shoulder. "quit squirming." she growls. you relent, melting back into her hold. she smiles against the bite mark and plunges her fingers back inside you.

"sevika!" you whine. she chuckles again.

"you said i could do anything i wanted to you if i did the dishes tonight. so shut up and take it." she grunts. you whimper.

"b-but-- 'y didn't even do the dishes yet!" you whine. sevika laughs behind you. "'s no fair!" you whine again. sevika just hums in faux sympathy as she continues to abuse your g-spot with delicious little circles. you're close-- you've been close for the past thirty minutes-- and she can tell. sevika knows your body like the back of her hand, and she knows just how far she can take you before she has to pull away, cutting you off from your pleasure moments before you cum. there's tears in your eyes as you gasp. "no!" you whine. "no no, please, sev, please, c'mon!" you whine. she laughs, scratching at your thighs and ignoring your twitching clit inches away from her hand.

you aren't thinking anymore, and your hand flies down to rub at your clit. you're so close, gasping and shaking and crying as you touch yourself. sevika lets you, and for a second, you think she's going to let you get yourself off. you melt in relief, your orgasm building in your stomach, and just when you're about to tip over the edge, sevika wretches your hand away.

"wait!" you cry. she chuckles as she pulls both of your hands behind your back, wrapping her belt around your wrist and pulling it tight. you struggle against the bond, but can't break free, especially not with your bound wrists squished between sevika's abs and your back. "sevika!" you scream in frustration.

"poor baby." she says.

"i hate you!" you cry. sevika laughs.

"i love you too, baby." she says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. you whine and cry against her while she strokes your hair and presses kisses to your face. "you okay?" she whispers, dropping her sultry tone of voice to genuinely check in on you. you sniffle and gather your thoughts, checking in on yourself, too.

"gimmie a kiss." you demand, turning your head to pout at your wife. she grins and leans forward pressing her lips against yours, smiling against you. "you're evil." you whisper against her lips. she laughs.

"you're amazing. takin' it so well." she says. you whimper. "you wanna cum?" she teases you. you pout and nod. "beg for it." she says, her fingers ghosting over your cunt. you shudder.

"please make me cum, sevika. i need it so bad. need your fingers-- need you to make me cum, please!"

she hums, then plunges her fingers back inside you.

you're shaking in her grip, anticipation and arousal and nerves coursing through you. "please don't stop, please don't stop, please, sevika, please, i need it!" you whine. sevika hums against you, pressing kisses to your scalp.

"y' want me to keep going?" she asks. you groan and nod. she smirks against your neck. "i'll keep goin' babe." she promises.

you sigh in relief, melting against her chest and letting pleasure course through your body. sevika keeps her word, and she fucks you until you cum around her fingers.

"f-fuck!" you scream as you finally, finally cum. it's ten times more intense than usual, all the edging having worked you up beyond belief, and you barely recognize the animalistic groans and grunts coming from your lips as sevika works you through it.

"awe, there you go honey. feel so fuckin' good cummin' around my fingers, you needed it real bad, huh?" she teases. "you're makin' a mess." she whispers, "look, look at the sheets." she grunts. you can't-- your eyes are scrunched closed and you can hardly breathe, but you can feel the puddle she's referring to under your ass.

"sevika!" you gasp out as the last wave of your orgasm washes over you. sevika chuckles, her fingers continuing to work inside you to prolong your orgasm. you start twitching from overstimulation, and your pleasure melts into discomfort and sensitivity. "w-what are you--"

"you begged me to keep going, honey, i'm just doing what you asked." she whispers with an evil laugh as she continues ramming her fingers in and out of your squelching cunt. you're writing in her gasp, trying to fight the hold her legs have on yours to close your thighs-- but sevika's way too strong and you're way too fucked out for it to be a fair fight.

"sev!" you gasp. another orgasm washes over you, completely unexpected, and sevika gasps as you start squirting.

she pulls her fingers out, only to fiddle with your clit, your cum spraying everywhere-- soaking your bodies, the bed, the wall behind you.

"holy fucking shit, i love you." sevika grunts. "you're so perfect. give it to me honey, give it all to me." she demands.

when your stream becomes a trickle, sevika grunts in disappointment and delivers a swift smack to your cunt. you gasp and shake, a tiny trickle of squirt soaking her hand, and sevika chuckles, smacking you again.

"sev!" you gasp out. she hums.

"yeah?" she asks, her fingers returning to rubbing gentle circles in your clit.

"i-i can't!" you whine, knowing that she's looking for more. she laughs.

"yes you can, y' just did. all you gotta do is lay there and take it, baby, and you're doin' such a good fuckin' job." she mumbles. her fingers dip down to sink back inside you, slowly fucking your wet cunt.

"sevika!" you whine. she chuckles.

"yeah?" she asks again.

"y-you're the worst!" you whine. she laughs.

"your cunt doesn't seem to feel the same way." she teases you. you whine, leaning your head back against sevika's shoulder, and she takes the opportunity to kiss away your tears. "you're so fucking perfect. i'm so in love with you." she whispers, like she isn't fucking you nasty with three of her fingers now. "you still good?" she asks again.

you take a shaky breath as your third orgasm starts creeping up.

"you're doing the dishes for the rest of the month, you bitch." you whisper shakily. she laughs behind you.

"anything for you, babe." she whispers, kissing your head, her fingers thrusting into you with a brutal pace. "anything."

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

[milaisreading]

What if CD!yn gets hit in the the face so hard with a ball she forgets everyone in Blue Lock like the amnesia one with Manager!yn

🌱🩷: Hii! Hope you liked what I came up with! Thank you for the request!

Warnings: Reader is crossdressing as a guy here, so it's a mix between he/him and she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

The long-awaited and highly anticipated game between Bastard München and PXG had finally started. The spectators, and members of the PIFA board watched the two teams, all eager to see how the match will play out. This was a big thing for the Blue Lock project, and for the 3 specific players as well. Itoshi Rin, who was the current #1 and had the highest bid from PXG. Isagi Yoichi, taking up #2 and who was currently sought after Bastard München. Then, the third player being (L/n) (Y/n), Blue lock's current #3, with the highest bid coming from Spain's Re Al.

'I swear. I better get kicked out of the top10 by the end of this match.' (Y/n) sighed as she watched Rin and Isagi, then looked back at Gagamaru, who looked a little nervous.

"Gagamaru, are you alright? You look really pale?" She asked in worry as the goalie looked back at her, for a moment not looking at the other players.

"I am alright. Just nervous since this is our last game. And it is a big deal." (Y/n) smiled at him in sympathy and was about to to speak up again, only for Hiori and Isagi to scream at her.

"(Y/n), duck!"

"Watch your head!"

"Huh?" She looked back, only for her vision to go black as she felt something collide with her head. Whatever happened after, (Y/n) couldn't really process what was going on. She felt herself lose balance and a pair of arms grab her as something wet started to slide down her face.

"(Y/n)'s head is bleeding!"

"I am killing you, antenna freak!"

"Oh, so now it's my fault that Mr. Golden boy isn't looking?!"

"Shidou, Rin, shut up!"

"Noa-san! We need a medic!"

"Save my midfielder!"

"He isn't yours, gremlin!"

"Oh, shut up, Kaiser and Charles!"

"(Y/n)! Don't fall asleep now!" Hiori's voice was heard, but the girl couldn't see or make out from which direction it was coming from.

"I got some wet towels!"

"(Y/n), look at me! Don't close your eyes!"

"The wound looks bad."

"We need to cut off the match!"

'Kurona... Yukimiya... Kunigami... Isagi... I can hear them, but not see them.' The girl thought in panic as she closed her eyes, going limp in Gagamaru's hold.

"(Y/n) fainted!" Gagamaru yelled in panic as the rest looked on in worry.

While (Y/n) was sent to the medic room, it was announced that the final match will be resumed at a later time when she wakes up and recovers. As much as the JFA protested the idea, not wanting to lose money because of this accident, they had to agree. Ego and Anri arguing that none of the players were in a good condition to play to begin with. And while Anri was doing damage control with the media, Ego was losing his nerves with the manager of Re Al. As the team did put a lot of money into (Y/n), they naturally did worry about her condition in the future.

'Greedy and money hungry, a great combination.' Ego thought sarcastically as he rolled his eyes while the manager kept talking through the phone.

"What do you mean we can't see him?! Who are you to tell me anything?!"

"I am your coach, so yes, I can." Lavinho said as he stood in front of the door, preventing Bachira and Otoya to leave the place.

"But, (Y/n) is our friend, we have a right to see him. He was literally bleeding on the screen." Otoya argued as Bachira nodded his head furiously.

"That's right! We just want to see him and make sure he is alright." The dribbler said, trying to move past Lavinho, but was tugged back by the coach.

"You both are staying here. Noa and Ego both said to not let anyone see (Y/n) while he is asleep. I know and understand that you are worried, but I am not letting you leave. Not even his own teammates can see him right now." Lavinho argued, giving the duo a firm glare.

"This isn't fair..." Otoya sighed.

"Hmph!" Bachira pouted as he stubbornly sat on the ground.

"Barou, listen, I know that you are worried about your friend. But, the doctor said-"

"Screw what he said! I want to see him now! Now!" Barou glared at Snuffy, who gave him a stoic look as Aryu chimed in. The boy was a lot calmer than Barou, but equally worried about the midfielder.

"What Barou wants to say, we really need to see him. We all saw the blood and how he just went unconscious. We are all worried and want to see if we can help." Aryu said calmly as Niko nodded his head, holding back his tears.

"Y-yeah. Maybe he needs blood or something." Niko said as Barou was losing his cool slowly.

"If he needed blood, we would have been told that. Please, all of you sit down and stay here until Ego doesn't give us the green light to see him. The less you all stress out (Y/n), the faster he will recover." Snuffy said calmly as he patted Barou's shoulder.

"No, Nagi, you are not leaving the stratum."

"But, Chris-san, what if (Y/n) would want to see us. Nagi and I, his closest friends."

"Since when are you his closest friends?" Chigiri rolled his eyes, earning offended looks from the duo.

"What? You two were the ones to insult him, weren't you?"

"We already apologized for it. And why are you even being offended over it? It's something between (Y/n) and us." Nagi gritted his teeth, but before Chigiri could argue back, Chris spoke up.

"And this is exactly why you three aren't leaving. (Y/n) needs to recover and not listen to all of you arguing and blaming each other for this."

"But-"

"Reo, no. If you all care so much about him, then you will leave him alone for the time being." With one final glare, the trip shut their mouths, not wanting to anger the blonde more.

"Nope, you are staying here." Loki said, grabbing the ends of Charles' shirt, stopping the boy from leaving for the German stratum.

"I can't! What if (Y/n) wakes up and is scared?! I need to comfort him!" Charles said back, earning an irritated glare from Rin.

"Shut up and stop being so much around him! Are you blind or do you just not see how uncomfortable (Y/n) is around you?!"

"And you shut up-"

"Ok! Ok! That's enough! All of you calm down." Loki clapped, glaring at Tokimitsu and Karasu who were about to leave the room.

"We are all to respect what Ego-san ordered us to do. For now, nobody is seeing him until he wakes up and is able to see all of you."

"But, what if he really needs us?" Tokimitsu protested.

"Or wants to see us?" Karasu added in.

"Then we will be told that. For now, all of you sit down and eat."

Now, while the other stratums were pure messes, the German stratum was uncharacteristically quiet. Noa wasn't really used to Kaiser, Ness, and Isagi not arguing. Kunigami looked even more depressed than usually. Gagamaru kept blaming himself for what had happened, to which Sachs, Gesner, and Grim always had to chime in and tell him it wasn't his fault. Noa noted that Kurona was also less enthusiastic to play, Yukimiya and Hiori just sat to the side, not saying anything. Noa knew that the players were worried, even Kaiser and Ness, which they would never admit to. He also knew that he wasn't making it better by banning them from seeing (Y/n), but for her own sake he had to do it.

Already, a few days had passed since the accident, the pressure from PIFA and the JFA was getting more suffocating on Noa and Ego, but they refused to contthe match without her.

Then, one night while the BM team was eating their dinner, all solemnly, the door opened.

"And this is the dining area. This is where you are mostly with your teammates, aside from the training area." The said team stopped eating as they saw Anri walk in, followed by (Y/n), whose head was still bandaged up.

"Ah... I see..." (Y/n) nodded, looking around the place.

"(Y/n)!!"

"Oh thank God!"

"We were so worried!"

"Why are you walking around like that? You should sit down!"

The girl watched in surprise as Yukimiya, Hiori, Kurona, and Isagi ran up to her, followed by Gagamaru and Kunigami.

"Isagi is right. Please don't walk around like that."

"Do you want some water? Or my food?"

Surprised, and a little scared from the crowd, she hid behind Anri, surprising the team.

"Who... who are all of you?" (Y/n) asked, looking around the room in confusion. Kaiser's spoon slipped from his hand as he heard the question, his eyes widening in terror as he realized what was going on.

"What... what do you mean by that? Nice joke." Ness nervously laughed as Anri cleared her throat.

"(Y/n) has a temporary memory loss. He doesn't remember anyone or the events that happened in Blue Lock. Please, be cautious around him and try to make him remember what had happened. Ok?"

A silence fell among the players as (Y/n) gulped nervously, not liking the attention she was getting.

"Ehmmm... hi, everyone."

To say things were back to normal would be a huge, huge lie. For the next few days the German team tried their best to regain her memories. Isagi, Hiori, and Kurona would give her small tours around the stratum, telling her funny stories that had happened to them, but she just smiled apologetically saying she couldn't remember anything. Yukimiya, Kunigami, and Gagamaru decided to bring her to their monitor room and show her the different matches she played in, hoping that would help. But, that was useless as well. The Blue Lock players were slowly losing their minds, they knew they had to bring back (Y/n)'s memories somehow, or they would lose her in their team. Who would let a player with amnesia play?

Heck, even the German part of the team tried to help her out somehow, but their plans were futile as well. Especially when Kaiser and Ness started teasing and making fun of her. What was usually met with (Y/n) insulting them right back, was now met with the girl crying. That alarmed Noa, so he basically forbade them from talking to her.

Soon enough, the rest of Blue lock heard about (Y/n)'s condition, and they would have rushed to her side if the coaches didn't stop them. They knew it was selfish to overwhelm her now, but the players were just worried and wanted to see her. And they will do that, no matter what.

So, one night after everyone went to sleep, the Blue Lock team, plus Charles, Ness, and Kaiser held a small meeting inside the dining area of the German team.

"Does anyone have an idea what we could do? We tried everything by now?" Isagi asked, looking at the other players.

"How about showing him some pictures? I heard they help in these cases." Otoya raised his hand.

"We tried it with videos already, and that didn't work."

"But, maybe pictures will work, Yukimiya." Kurona protested, not liking the frown on the boy's face.

"Cooking his favorite food, maybe?"

"That's a good idea, Bachira. If there is anything he loves, it's food." Reo nodded in agreement as Nagi showed Isagi his phone.

"Or I show him some video games we used to play. He might not remember me, but he definitely remembers those." Niko could see the sad look on the boy's face, but ignored it as he showed Kunigami his manga stash.

"(Y/n) and I used to read manga together, that might provoke something."

"A nice spa day with me could work as well! We used to do them during the 2nd selection together." Aryu smiled as he remembered that time fondly.

"Or! (Y/n) and I could spend a day watching the anime shows he talked to me about." Tokimitsu smiled at the idea.

"I am still more for Bachira's idea. That boy loves food way too much, I think that will provoke him." Barou said.

"Mhm! Or, we could braid each other's hair. We always used to do that together." Chigiri suggested.

"Rin, do you have any ideas? You are awfully quiet." Karasu commented as the boy sent him a side-glare.

"I am mostly out of ideas. Whatever the majority thinks we should do, I will do it." Rin shrugged his shoulders, trying to hide the anxious feeling he had.

"Charles, Kaiser, Ness, do you three have any ideas?" Gagamaru wondered as the attention was now on them.

"Just let him spend a day with me! I am sure I can help him was better than anyone else can." Charles said while pouting.

"You don't know him that well to claim that!" Reo, Nagi, and Barou yelled.

"I don't care, whatever works, works. I just want him to stop crying whenever Ness or I speak to him."

"It's so annoying." Ness rolled his eyes, ignoring the heartbreak he felt when he remembered all the times (Y/n) cried when they spoke to her.

"You all don't worry, (Y/n) will be his old self again. Right, Isagi?"

The said boy looked over at Hiori, giving him a nervous smile in return.

"Yea... Yeah, of course! He will be back again."

"We should hurry up, then. If we don't get him to regain his memories, his journey here in Blue Lock is over." Karasu spoke up, earning alarmed looks from the others.

"What?! What makes you say that?!"

"This isn't the time for jokes, crow-head."

"You are not funny, Karasu!"

The said boy ignored Rin, Kaiser, and Barou's comments and spoke up again.

"I heard Loki and Snuffy-san talk about it in the hallway today. PIFA and the JFA are tired of waiting. They said if (Y/n) doesn't get her memories back by Friday, it's over. He is getting kicked out." An eerie silence fell among the group as they looked at Karasu in disbelief, but they knew the boy well enough to know he wasn't lying.

"Those money hungry bastards..." Ness clenched his fists as Kaiser and Charles just glared at the ground.

"But.... Isn't Friday tomorrow?" Tokimitsu asked in panic, alarming the rest.

"Don't worry! We still have time!" Kunigami gulped, now even more worried about the oblivious captain.

The next day...

"Hm?" (Y/n) frowned as she put Nagi's phone down.

"Do you remember now?" Nagi asked as Reo, and Chigiri looked at her in excitement.

"No... sorry. I wasted your battery for nothing." The girl said apologetically.

"It's ok! Don't apologize!" Reo said quickly as he took his phone back.

"This isn't good. My method didn't work. Otoya's didn't work, Bachira and Barou's didn't, and now yours failed as well. What now?" Chigiri whispered to Nagi, who for once looked genuinely worried.

"I don't know-"

"(Y/n), there you are!" The girl jumped in surprise as she saw two other players approach her.

"Oh, hi... Niko and Aryu, right?" The girl asked slowly, earning a quick nod from them both.

"That's right. I wanted to ask you to read some mangas with me."

"And I will put on a face mask on you in the meantime."

"Mangas? Face mask? I used to do those things?" The girl blinked in confusion as Aryu and Niko pulled her up.

"Of course! Let's go!"

"Hey, I am coming with you!"

"Me as well!" Charles and Tokimitsu yelled, running after the trio.

"How much time do we have left?" Chigiri asked in worry as he looked back at Reo.

"A good... 3 hours. The JFA president won't be here till 16 o'clock. Karasu, Kurona, and Isagi are keeping an eye out for him." Reo said back as Nagi groaned and laid his head on the table.

"I want (Y/n) back..."

"We all do..."

With (Y/n)...

"So, this is the manga I always read with you?" (Y/n) wondered as she sat with Niko while Aryu had put a face mask on her.

"And I used to put on a face mask as well?" She asked, looking at the two, who quickly nodded their heads.

"Do you remember anything now?" Charles asked, smiling nervously as he gently grabbed her arm.

"Yeah... is this working by any chance?" Tokimitsu gulped nervously. They all looked at (Y/n) as she looked around the place. Truth be told, she did see some foggy memories, but couldn't put a finger onto anything. Nothing was familiar at all.

"No... sorry..." She sighed, looking down at the floor. Charles and Tokimitsu looked at each other in worry as Aryu and Niko started panicking a little. What now?

But, before anyone could say anything, the door had opened and outside was Anri, looking at the 5 players in relief.

"Oh, you are here. Uhm, (Y/n), there is someone who wants to speak with you." Anri said sadly, which caused alarm bells to ring inside the other players' heads.

"And who would that be?" The girl asked, rubbing her head as she got up.

'No... it can't be over...'

'I thought we still had time!'

'This can't be it!' Aryu, Tokimitsu, and Niko thought nervously as Charles had an uncharacteristically stone cold look.

"You know, before that accident a few days ago, you actually had a huge bid on your name from Re Al, a Spanish team, you still do. But, considering we failed to bring back any memories of yours back, your football career might end today. The captain of that team just wanted to speak to you one more time. You are a huge fan of his. Leonardo Luna is his name." Anri explained, trying to hold back her own sadness as the girl numbly nodded her head. Seeing her stoic reaction to the Spanish players names caused the boys to flinch a little. Their are used to seeing her fangirl over him... not act like this!

"Sure! I don't remember really anything, but it sucks that I have to leave."

Alarmed Charles got up from his seat and ran over to the girl, not caring how fast he was going.

"Wait! You can't just leave me like that! This isn't fair! We were supposed to play against each other at the World Cup!"

Without a warning, he ran into (Y/n) and hugged her tightly, which caused her to lose her balance and fall down.

"(Y/n)!"

"Not again! Now he will lose his memories completely!" Tokimitsu yelled as Niko and Aryu ran over to get Charles off of her.

"No! I am not letting you all take hin away from me! No way!" Charles cried out as his hold around (Y/n)'s waist tightened. Seeing the boy cry caused the others to move away a little.

"It isn't fair!" The French boy said as Anri tried to talk some sense into him, but it wasn't working. (Y/n) groaned as she rubbed her head and slowly sat up.

'Now... now I remember!' The girl thought as a rush of memories went through her mind. Everything that had happened prior and during Blue lock, and even everything leading up to today.

"Huh?" She muttered as everyone looked over at her, minus Charles who was busy crying.

"What is going on? And what do you mean I won't play football anymore. I am completely fine! And... and did you say Leonardo Luna is here?! I look like a mess! I can't face him like this!" The girl blushed as she looked at Anri and then down at the clothes she was wearing. Aryu and Tokimitsu's eyes widened in surprise as Anri held in a breath, waiting for what will happen next.

"Do... do you remember everything now?" Niko asked nervously as (Y/n) looked over at him while patting Charles' back. The French boy had stopped crying as he looked at her as well.

"Yeah, now I do. I don't know how, but the memories are back where they should be. You can all stop worrying now." (Y/n) smiled as Charles, Niko, and Tokimitsu tackled her into a hug.

"I will inform the rest!" Aryu said, quickly running out the door as Anri let out a few relieved sobs.

"I will go inform Ego-san and Noa-san!" The woman said as she ran out of the door as well.

[demigod-shenanigans]

Snippet from an entry for my canon divergent oneshot series that I’m still working on (idk why this is in present tense, either, that might change in the actual fic, we’ll see):

Reyna watches them for a moment.

Leo is splashing Jason, showing no signs of stopping and loudly complaining that it’s no fun if Jason doesn’t retaliate. She waits for Jason to tell him to knock it off.

He doesn’t. He smiles serenely, then raises a hand and uses the winds to push a whole bunch of water right in Leo’s face.

“Dude! Foul!” Leo splutters, but he’s laughing. He makes a very poor attempt to dunk Jason—he doesn’t have the arm strength to do any real damage—but Jason lets himself fall backwards, and then they both go under.

When they reappear they’re both laughing.

Jason is looking down at Leo, beaming, and something clicks into place in Reyna’s head, a puzzle piece that hadn’t seemed to fit suddenly slotting in perfectly.

“You good?” Piper asks when she reappears at her side, now wearing a baseball cap and slightly smudged sunscreen.

Despite the responsibility she so obviously holds for the other campers—expertly demonstrated by every fight she’s broken up between their respective camps these past few weeks—her expression is utterly carefree in this moment. The concept seems foreign to Reyna, but there’s something incredibly powerful about it, too. With the sun illuminating her from behind, Piper looks almost celestial.

“I’m- yes. I’m alright.” Reyna realizes she’s been staring, and judging by how she’s smirking, clearly Piper has noticed. Reyna swallows, forcing herself to direct her gaze back to Jason and Leo, who are still busy splashing each other.

“I’ll resist the urge to tease you because I’m nice.” Piper could have said it smugly, but halfway through her tone melts into something much softer. “I never asked before, but from how you two interact, I get the feeling that this Jason is pretty different from the person he was before Leo and I subjected him to our combined chaotic energy. That has to be hard.”

And it is hard, to look at the best friend that’s been missing for months and find him, suddenly, a stranger. To realize you might never get him back.

This Jason has always seemed wrong to Reyna, somehow. Like some part of him broke that she doesn’t know how to fix.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jason laugh like that,” she says, and the moment the words leave her mouth the truth of what’s changed slams into her like a boulder. He’s different because he’s happier. This Jason that laughs freely and thinks of childish retaliation as a perfectly acceptable response to Leo’s splashing is whole in a way no version of him Reyna knew had ever been. Things don’t seem off to her because there’s anything wrong with Jason—it’s because they grew up with twin holes in their chests, and now his heart beats vividly while her chest still rings hollow. “I can’t remember the last time I let myself laugh like that, either.”

She doesn’t mean to admit that last part out loud, but it slips out regardless, like it so startlingly often does with Piper. It’s been happening more and more since she’s first offered to share Reyna’s burden.

Something about being around Piper gets her talking, emotions bleeding out of her like through an open wound she doesn’t know how to staunch. A wound she isn’t sure she wants to staunch, if she’s fully honest with herself. It makes her feel light-headed.

“I can get you into the lake, too, if that’s what you want,” Piper offers immediately.

Reyna raises an eyebrow at her in amusement. “You could not push me in if you tried.”

“No, but I could always use my charmspeak.” Piper grins. “It is really hot today. And they look like they’re having fun, don’t they? Why don’t we join them?”

[minustwofingers]

cool about it teaser

pairing: closetedfem!reader x ellie

request? yes, by @gold-dustwomxn (:

summary: life in the apocalypse is hard enough. the last thing you need is unrequited feelings for your best friend—who is very much off limits. so you'll just be cool about it. really cool about it. set in a loose interpretation of canon where i toy around with the timeline and storyline just the slightest and this is also a bit of a slowburn

warnings: ur closeted asf, queer angst, gross men, explicit language, substance use

a/n: hey guys i haven't really been posting much recently, but i wanted to at least post two scenes from this series so u guys have an idea of what to expect...also so u guys can tell me which one you want me to work on more (love is a laserquest or this one). i hope u enjoy...sorry this one is a little disjointed! (there are many events that happen between the two scenes im sharing w u as a little treat)

I. (opening scene)

The revelation that your feelings towards your best friend had become complicated arrives with the dead of winter. It’s strange, really, how something within you came to life just as the rest of the world began to die. 

If you were wiser, you’d find ways to explain it away, to rationalize all the weird thoughts in your head. You’d cite the chill in the air. The holiday spirit running through Jackson. The desolation that came with your only outdoor companions being the brown corpses of deciduous trees and infected that hadn’t frozen in the winter storms that kept battering Wyoming. 

But with age came wisdom, and both of those virtues were in short supply in a post-apocalyptic world. So, you resign yourself to cataloging away these feelings and pretending like everything was absolutely normal and cool. 

The bad thing about having good things, you think to yourself bitterly one day as you watch Ellie’s eyes light up as she rambles in her room as you sit on her bed about a comic book Joel had found her, is that they’re risky. High risk—high reward. Ellie was special to you in a way that no one else was. And using this logic, losing her would bring such an unforeseen devastation that you weren’t sure that you could go on. 

So, normal. Cool. Chill. Because you cannot afford to fuck this one up. 

“I love when you tell me about your comics,” you tell her in a way that’s definitely not sappy sweet and gooey. 

She smiles crookedly back at you. “You’re such a fucking liar. I know you couldn’t give a shit about these.” 

“Am not!” You throw a punch at her arm, feeling your heart twist as she just grins wider. “For the record, I do give a shit. Many, actually.”

“That sounds gross.” 

“Your words, not mine.” 

And it’s absolutely gut wrenching how she can just smile at you like that, like she’s not holding your heart in her fist.

“So, uh, Cat,” you blurt out. You’d been staring at her for too long. “Dina said that you two were—uh…” 

You wave your hand around in the air like you’re sifting through thousands of possible word combinations. In reality, you know exactly what you need to say to get the answer you’re searching for. You just don’t want to ask. 

“Well…” She blushes. Her eyes drop to her hands, where her fingers are toying with the bits of cuticle she hasn’t already torn off. 

“I knew it!” you croon, hoping that the boatload of dread that just dropped in your stomach isn’t as obvious as it feels. “Tell me everything.”

“Nothing to tell,” she says. “Nothing yet, at least. It’s stupid but—I just noticed that she hangs around me a lot, you know? And, like, touches me more than she needs to. Shit like that. I dunno.”

The wound deep inside you splits like the fake grin on your lips. “Wowwwww. Look at you!” 

Ellie rolls her eyes. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I mean,” she says, her eyes twinkling conspiratorially, “What about Eddie? Jesse told me that you spend a lot of time with him.”

“We’re patrol partners,” you offer. It’s not a lie. You’re just choosing to omit the part where Eddie spends half his patrol staring longingly in your direction while you pretend not to notice. 

“I know that.”

“It’s…” You gnaw on your bottom lip. “I don’t know how I feel about that right now.” 

That’s not a lie either. Eddie is…nice. All the other girls like him, except for Dina (she has Jesse) and Ellie (she has another very obvious reason). He’s attractive. At least, that’s what Bonnie tells you. Apparently the buzzed hair and heavy bluntness found in all of his features is considered hot. 

But just because you’re not into him now doesn’t mean you could never be. That’s what your mother used to say about your father—she hadn’t liked him upon their first meeting. But it changed with time, and you’d rather have someone than be all alone. 

Ellie hums, picking at the cuticle of her thumb. “He likes you.”

“So I’ve heard.” 

“Well,” she says, “I heard Jesse’s putting on another bonfire tonight. Want to walk there together after dinner?” 

You spend another evening staring across the fire at your best friend, watching the warm glow of the flames warp and distort the shape of her and Cat, pressed up against each other and smiling wide. You aren’t sure why it makes you so uncomfortable to see them together. Homophobia? No. Maybe? You recently learned that that was a thing, but you don’t consider yourself bigoted, and being a homophobe is more of an opt-in situation, right? 

But when you try to reach deep inside to find a more plausible answer, there’s nothing. 

It’s your detachment from reality that lets Eddie drape a heavy, hard arm over your shoulder. 

“Hey,” he whispers into your ear. His breath is hot and warm. 

“Hey,” you whisper back, wanting nothing more than to get away. Thankfully, Ellie is too preoccupied with Cat to even look your way. You’re sure that you’d die if she saw Eddie touching you like this. 

“You look really pretty tonight.”

“Thank you.”

It’s like someone shone a spotlight on you, hung a sign on your neck that said, I am perceived and desired by men. You don’t know why this makes your skin crawl so much. 

Eddie’s fingers are tracing patterns on the flesh of your arm. You find that you’re grateful for the extra layer your sweatshirt sleeve provides. You don’t want him to touch you—don’t want to know what it’s like for him to deliberately make contact with your skin. 

The next time he speaks to you, it’s in a murmur that you suppose is meant to sound seductive. “You’re quiet today.”

“Just a little tired.” And now you feel guilty, because Eddie really hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s you who has an issue with a boy who’s perfectly nice and clearly likes you. 

He laughs like you’d said something funny, tightening his arm so you press into his side. His body is blazing hot like a furnace, and it feels hard and foreign.

II. (scene from somewhere in the middle )

“Sorry!” You titter at the crowd of your friends who formed at the sliding glass door. “Um—sorry.” 

It seems to be the only thing you can say. 

“Cat,” Ellie says, an edge of desperation in her voice. “Cat, please, it’s not like—”

“I’m pretty fucking sure of what I saw,” snaps Cat. She turns to Eddie, a vicious glint in her eyes. “Didn’t know your girl swung that way.” 

And then she shoves past the mass of people, Ellie kicking off from the deck railing with a stream of apologies falling from her lips as she follows behind. 

Eddie walks forward, confusion the dominant emotion in his wide face.

“Uh—I didn’t—”

“I’m really drunk,” you say to him, feeling the tears begin to spill down your cheeks. “It’s not like that. I promise it’s not like that. I don’t know why I did that.”

“Hey,” he says, opening his arms. “Come here. Why are you crying?” 

“I don’t know,” you sputter, stepping into him and pressing your snotty face into his shirt. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Fuck.”

“It’s really okay.” His hand finds the flat part of your back between your shoulder blade and rubs circles. “It’s just a chick. If it were, like, I dunno, Jesse, I would’ve been angry.”

“You’re not mad?” you ask, pulling away to look up at him. Maybe there’s something tonight you didn’t ruin. 

He smiles down at you. “‘Course not. Some guys find that shit hot, you know. Two girls kissing like that.”

The smile that seemed so innocent at first sends a sharp, chilling pang through your chest. He doesn’t seem to notice your hesitation in the way your face falls as his head dips to kiss you, doesn’t seem to register the disgust you exhibit until you have to shove yourself away.

“I’m really drunk,” you repeat, looking anywhere but his face. “I want to go to bed.” 

“I can come—”

“No.”

final a/n: like i said so sorry about how disjointed this is. i just want to get a feel for what my readers are more interested in for now!!

[viamutationis]

OH GREY WARDEN, WE'RE REALLY IN IT NOW.

ID in alt text, notes and oc infodump under the cut! PLEASE ask me about them they're my new babygirl of the week

Yeah. Ben-Hassrath Cousland is wild, I know. This was one of those 3 am thoughts that became a beloved oc and now they're my canon protag. Basically: She was being trained to be House Cousland's left hand to spy within the noble courts and intercept threats to her family's rule, and a large part of that meant being covertly sent to Orlais to train as a bard. Buuuut the bardmaster she studied under was an undercover Hissrad, and she wound up being converted to the Qun by her. Teenage Laurentia was in a spot where, like every kid, she was questioning the Andrastian beliefs she was raised with and all the unfair things she noticed in her society, so she was very open to the Qun.

Her role once she was sent back home was basically just to send reports detailing the inner workings of the Ferelden nobility and to be aware of any Tal-Vashoth activity in the area. Pretty benign shit, and the former task is what she was doing for her family anyway. Still recruited by the Wardens the normal way, via Duncan doing his "come with me if you want to live" shtick after the fam dies. None of the Blight Crew find her out save for Leliana, because Leli knows everything. She only reveals it to Sten just as he's about to hop on a ship back home LMAOOO.

They're genuinely very compassionate and sweet. A lil whimsical. Highly loyal and protective. Very lawful good (emphasis on lawful). It's a weird sort of internal reconciling - they are genuinely kind to most people and love listening to others' issues and helping them out. It just so happens that this makes them an excellent spy, because they're exactly the sort of person people feel comfortable opening up to, and they see no issue with passing relevant information on to the powers they spy for. The kindness is genuine, but it's also a tool, if that makes sense. Their duty comes before any attachments. On that Master Coercion grindset.

No romance because they're aro, but they do have a little homoerotic espionage cat and mouse goin on with Leliana (singing campfire songs and trading stories and braiding each others' hair included). They get along with all their companions besides Morrigan and Oghren, and even Morrigan is more just.. cordial passive aggression.

They exist in the same worldstate as my Orlesian Warden-Commander Gavriel! He's a veteran warden who joins them on the road after Lothering because his ass snuck into Ferelden to help the Wardens solo, and then he'll later become the WC while they become Arlessa because they have more political experience and he has more military experience.

They generally make the nicey nice choices, albeit not where magic is concerned, and even then it's purely out of an abundance of caution. They do NOT annul the Circle, they do that secret third option where you tell Greagoir there could still be blood mages so he puts the mages into quarantine and Wynne still joins you but the game counts it as siding with the Templars. They let Isolde kill Connor, rip lil dude. (Not like they have a choice, they would rather that than the blood magic anyway, but they kill Jowan soooooo.) Besides that, all nicey choices. Bhelen on the throne, Anvil destroyed, Zathrian reconciles and everybody lives, Ashes are not tainted, Loghain recruited, Alistair and Anora rule jointly, Gavriel and Morrigan know they'd never agree to the Dark Ritual so they do it behind Laurentia's back and nobody dies lmao.

Small notes on their disabilities: Wynne was the healer that did their cleft lip surgeries as a kid!! Their last surgery was when they were 6, so they do remember her :D & their hearing aids are lyrium-infused lazurite, the runes are all enchantments that combine to make it collect and amplify sound like an actual HA does. I love bullshitting magic technology.

Their mabari is named Princess, because they got her when they were 10, okay.

[petvampire]

i feel like waxplay and monty in whichever pairing or grouping or whatever is incredibly interesting (and ill admit i have been thinking about this for months already so when i saw it on the list i was like 👀)

bc when esther first transforms monty into a human one of the steps is that she pours candle wax into what i assume is his open chest cavity as part of the spell, so i imagine him exploring wax play could be a way for him to break through some of the remaining esther-related trauma he might have.

not sure if that angle is the vibe youre looking for but in any case, montwin (+ others? im not picky, you decide) and waxplay pleasee 😇

Um. Yes, thank you, I love this.

Also combining this with @iamafandomfreak ‘s GhostCrow blindfold + wax play request. <3

~

There are very few things Monty remembers about the actual process of being made human the first time. The mind tends to block such things out; he remembers the pain, the panic, but he can’t recall each and every step Esther took to rip his crow body to shreds and build him a new one. That’s a good thing, since if he’d been acutely aware of every part of the spell, he probably would have gone crazy.

It does mean that odd things will trigger flashes of memory, though. Things like the flicker of a candle flame, a trail of wax along the side of a taper making him flinch as his mind flashes back. Searing wax, poured into his open ribs, burning along the inside of his chest. He feels it again for a moment, too vividly.

Charles is the first one to notice his reaction. They’re out at some nice restaurant, he and the girls seated at the table, the lit candles in the center dragging his focus away from whatever Niko was animatedly talking about moments ago. He sucks in a sharp breath, and the ghost lays his hands on his shoulders, brows furrowed in concern. “You all right, mate?”

Monty just shakes his head.

He manages to pull himself back together enough to enjoy the evening, at least on the surface. That flash of memory lingers, though, and when they finally get back to the office, he’s quick to tuck himself into the comforting embrace Charles offers, burying his face against the other’s chest. It’s been a while since he’s gotten so spooked out of nowhere, and all of them are clearly worried.

He explains in as few words as he can, and the outpouring of sympathy from the others soothes his ruffled feathers. Charles runs a hand along his spine, Edwin’s fingers smooth through his hair, and Monty eases back from that momentary fear. By the end of the night, he’s more or less back to normal, ready to just put it behind him. He can just avoid candles if they’re going to freak him out, after all. It’s not like he’s really the candlelight type.

He should know better by now. There’s a thoughtful look in Edwin’s eyes as he bids the crow good night, the look he gets when he’s chewing over a problem, sorting out the best possible solution. Monty should remember that Edwin is not longer willing to let such things pass; they’re all trying to heal from the wounds their pasts have dealt them, and the ghost is quite good at coming up with… unorthodox ways to confront such memories.

So really, he should have known.

~

It’s a unique sort of exposure therapy, to be sure.

Monty is sprawled out naked on his back on Edwin’s bed, a little tense despite the fact that this is hardly unfamiliar. His eyes are covered by a silk blindfold, with the ghost’s reasoning being that his unpleasant memory was stirred by a sight last time. It makes sense, but the crow is still uneasy even without being able to see. He can smell the hint of smoke on the air, knows there are candles burning within reach.

“You sure you’re all right?” Charles’ voice is soft, close, and a little worried still. He agreed to this plan, just as Monty did, because a lot of the time Edwin is adept at figuring out how to break through ugly memories, to replace them with far more pleasant sensations. They both trust him, even if occasionally his genius seems like madness.

The crow nods, trying to convince himself that he can relax. He knows he’s safe with these two, knows Edwin and Charles would never hurt him. They’re not about to tear him apart and remake him, even if they could. “Yeah. Just… do it.” The longer he waits for the inevitable, the more nervous he’ll get, until nerves turn to fear, then to panic.

A hand runs along his chest, and Monty recognizes Edwin’s touch, tenses slightly under it. Despite that momentary flicker of fear that goes through him, the first drips of wax don’t hit the skin of his chest, don’t make him feel like his heart is being wrenched out into the open and coated in liquid agony. Instead, the wax is a dribble of heat along his right bicep, and he jumps, a little squeak of surprise escaping him.

He can’t help but laugh after a moment at his own foolishness, at the sound. It doesn’t even hurt, not really. It’s a weird sensation, but it’s not what he was expecting, not what he had built it up to be in his mind.

“Monty?” Edwin’s voice is careful, and the crow swallows his laughter, though he can’t keep the relieved smile off his lips.

“Fine, I’m… fine. Just not expecting it.” He can almost feel the ghost smirking above him, radiating a sense of faint smugness. Edwin does love to be right.

“I assume you’re better prepared now.” Another stream of wax is dripped along his hip, his thigh, and though Monty doesn’t jolt this time, he does shiver under the sensation of it. With the blindfold, he can relax fully into just feeling. It’s suddenly a lot less intimidating, a lot more freeing.

Charles gets in on the act, and between the two of them, Monty feels like he’s being turned into some kind of waxy art project. The heat on his skin builds and fades by turns, trails of wax drawn across his arms and legs, his stomach, still carefully avoiding his chest. He knows that won’t last forever; it would defeat the purpose of tackling this fear this way.

Still, he finds himself surprised when the wax finally does hit just above his heart, a shock of heat that makes him jerk. At the same time, a pair of warm lips descend on his, soothing him, distracting him. Edwin kisses him slowly, thoroughly, even as more of that wax is trailed in patterns over his chest. Under the pressure of that kiss, it’s hard to be afraid.

He has nothing to be afraid of. Cool fingertips trace the patterns of the wax on his skin, the touches familiar where the trails of heat along his flesh aren’t. He can relax into them, and know he’s purely, completely safe.

He feels his old, visceral fear coalescing in his heart into something he can let go, something he can be free of. Monty breathes in, and releases it, lets the memory fade.

It won’t completely erase his memories of Esther, of being torn apart, remade. But it’s a start.

[0cta9on]

Unlikely Duet - 1

length: 3k+ words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male OC

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

“Yuno Lin! Detention! NOW!”

The sight of Principal Geier’s screaming face was nothing new to me. The bright shade of red on his furious expression combined with his shiny bald head made him look like a ripe tomato. I’d chuckle at the thought if my chest didn’t hurt every time I so much as breathe.

A crowd of students and teachers had huddled around Bryce Merten’s unconscious body. The football player’s face was all bloodied and bruised, but he was breathing, for better or for worse. I grabbed my bag I had tossed on the ground and trudged my way back into the main building of the school. 

It was the end of the school day, so some students were still hovering around their lockers, getting their stuff or talking to their friends. The echoes of my footsteps reverberated throughout the hallway, alerting others of my presence. The look of fear and confusion as they see my face full of cuts and bruises is also nothing new to me. I pay them no mind as I walk the familiar route to the detention room.

I pushed open the door, its creak announcing my entrance. Instead of the usual stern expression of Ms. Rusnak’s wrinkly face, I am suddenly face to face with Minji Kim, the golden girl of Evergreen High School. She’s the student council president and ranked #1 in the entire school, basically the poster child of perfection.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Her voice, laced with an unexpected sincerity, caught me off guard. She stood up from her desk and walked towards me, her face full of concern. I shrugged, ready for the usual judgment or disdain, and walked past her, taking a seat in the front row of desks. She sat back down at the teacher’s desk where she had been working on a pile of paperwork before my arrival and glanced at me with a worried expression, tracing my wounds with her eyes.

“What happened to you?” she asks. 

I hesitated for a moment, not used to the genuine concern in her voice. Reluctantly, I recounted the events that led to the fight, how Bryce had been tormenting a freshman for weeks, and how it ended up with him face down on the concrete.

Minji listened, her expression shifting from stern to contemplative. When I finished, she sighed, her shoulders slumping.

“Look, I get it. You just wanted to help, but you can’t be doing it like this. You could get expelled. You should have spoken to a teacher about it,” she suggested, her voice gentle yet firm.

I scoffed, bitterness seeping into my tone. “You think they would have done anything? They knew about it the entire time, but that fucker is on the football team, so they turned a blind eye to the whole thing.” I let out a deep breath, glaring at her. “He needed a good punch to the jaw. I just happened to be the one doing it.”

Minji frowned, her eyes searching mine. “I know it’s frustrating, but taking matters into your own hands isn’t the solution. You could get expelled for this, and then what? You won’t be able to help anyone.”

I avoid meeting her eyes, my gaze fixed on the scuffed surface of the desk. “I had to do it,” I muttered. “No one else would.”

She sighed, realizing the impasse between us. “Just… be careful. I’m sure your friends wouldn’t want to see you hurt,” she remarked as she turned back to continue her paperwork with a sigh.

Her words stuck in my head as I continued to stare at the desk. She was right. Of course she was right. If the teachers actually did their job and reprimanded the bullies the first time, then I would have never had to fight. Hell, I never enjoyed fighting in the first place. But I had to do it. Someone had to knock some sense into these sons of bitches and that responsibility was unfortunately bestowed upon me for whatever reason. And… Did she say “friends”? What friends? Everyone was too afraid to even look at me. Surely she knew that… right?

The minutes ticked along, our conversation lingering in the air. Eventually, a bell sounded on the PA system, signaling the end of detention. Without a word, I gather my bag and start to leave, but something stops me. I glance out the window and notice the darkness settling over the school grounds. It would be easy for me to just leave and move on with my life, but a voice inside at the back of my head was urging me to do the right thing. Despite my better judgment, I turned back around.

“I’ll walk you home,” I said, the words leaving my mouth before I have the time to process them.

She looked up at me, a look of surprise in her eyes. “O-oh, you don’t have t-”

“It’s dark outside,” I interrupted, my tone leaving no room for argument. “It’ll be too dangerous if you walk home alone.”

Minji offered a small smile, appreciating the sentiment. “Thank you for the offer, but I can manage. I don’t live that far anyways.”

“Let me walk you home then,” I insisted, my voice surprisingly unwavering. “If you don’t live far, then I’ll be out of your hair in no time. Just let me make sure you get home okay.”

She studied me for a moment, uncertainty flickering on her face. Finally, she relented with a small nod. “Fine. But just this once.”

I merely grunted in response as I held the door open for her. We walk through the dimly lit hallways and exit the main building into the cold, gray night. A heavy silence hung between us as we left the campus, greeted only by the faint glow from a couple street lights casting long shadows on the pavement.

We walked side by side, the echoes of our footsteps reverberating through the empty streets. Minji seemed lost in her thoughts, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. I maintained a distance from her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable as we approached the street that led to her house.

As we near her house, the first droplets of rain pattered onto the pavement, foreshadowing the impending downpour. 

Minji glanced up and snapped out of her trance, her expression shifting from contemplation to annoyance. “That’s just great. We’re gonna get soaked.” Without exchanging words, we quickened our pace, hoping to reach her house as soon as possible. 

Our slight jog turned into a sprint as the rain intensified. The glow of her porch lights beckoned to us like a lighthouse guiding us toward its welcoming shine. Reaching the shelter of her porch, we stood there and watched the rain get heavier and heavier, transforming the world around us into a blurry, mesmerizing dance of droplets.

Deciding it was time to leave, I shifted my weight, preparing myself to step back into the heavy downpour. But before I could move, I felt Minji’s hand gently touch my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

“Wait,” she said, her voice barely audible over the sound of the rain hitting her roof. “Stay here.”

I glanced at her, my eyes wide in confusion. “What?”

Her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink as she shakes her head. “I-I mean until the rain lets up.”

“I'll be fine. It’s just a little rain,” I say. As if on cue, the sound of thunder booms in the distance.

Before I could protest anymore, Minji opened her front door and gestured for me to come inside. “You’ll catch a cold if you go out like this. And it’s the least I can do to repay you for walking me home.” 

I glance back at the unrelenting rain one last time and sigh. “Okay. I’ll leave once the rain lets up.”

Minji smiled at me, leading the way inside. The warmth of her home enveloped me, a welcome contrast to the cold rain outside. I stood awkwardly near the entrance, the sound of the rain becoming mere background noise as Minji shuts the door behind us.

“Wait here, let me get you something dry to wear,” Minji says as she kicks off her shoes and disappears up the stairs. Curiously, I peer into her living room while I wait for her, being careful not to drip any water onto the carpet. A comfy-looking brown coach faces a large flat-screen TV, one that I’ve only seen in the electronics aisle at Walmart. Various pictures line the shelves around the TV, including family photos, a wedding photo of what could be her parents, and a graduation photo of an older boy I haven’t seen before.

The sound of Minji’s footsteps breaks me out of my thoughts. She appears in front of me with a blue sweater and black sweatpants neatly folded in her hands. “Here. It’s my older brother’s. He’s away for college right now, so I’m sure he won’t mind if you borrow them.” She hands them to me, a small smile on her face.

I took them from her, scanning her outfit. She had changed into a simple graphic T-shirt and black cotton shirts, a far cry from the usual school uniform that I see her wearing. Then, a sudden realization hit me - by some odd twist of fate, I was standing inside Minji Kim’s house. The atmosphere shifted and I brought my guard up in this unfamiliar setting.

“Thanks, Minji,” I muttered, unsure of what else to say.

“No problem, uhh…” Minji’s voice faltered as she suddenly brought her hands up to her face, the light pink hues of blush peeking through the cracks of her fingers. “Oh my god… I never asked for your name…”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by the oversight. “Yuno. Yuno Lin.”

She uncovered her face as her embarrassment transformed into a sheepish smile. “Right, Yuno. I’m so sorry, it’s been a long day with the rain and all this work I had to do.” She walked past me, into the living room area, avoiding my gaze. “There’s a bathroom right around this corner that you can change in. I’ll make us some tea in the meantime,” she said with an apologetic look on her face. I simply nod and kick off my shoes before following her deeper into her house.

I enter the bathroom while she disappears into the kitchen, presumably to make the tea. I strip off my uniform shirt, completely drenched from the rain, and examine my upper body in the mirror. A fist-sized blob of bluish-purple and red adorned my chest like a shitty tattoo, alongside another bruise on my arm and a couple more cuts on my cheek and lips. I shrugged. Not the worst thing that’s happened to me.

I quickly remove the rest of my wet clothes and change into the clothes Minji gave me, leaving my soaked school uniform in a messy pile on the bathroom counter. The warm fabric felt foreign, but welcoming. As I stepped out of the bathroom, the comforting scent of black tea hit my nose, leading me to the kitchen where Minji was steeping two cups of the stuff.

She turns to me, a warm smile on her face. “The tea is almost ready.” I watch as she reaches into a drawer and pulls out a first aid kit.  “Let me help you with the cuts.”

I shake my head, “I’m fine.”

Minji frowns at me and gently pushes me back into a chair. Before I can protest, she’s already cleaning the cuts on my face with antiseptic, her touch surprisingly gentle. I feel an odd sensation in my chest as I steal a glance at her, her face almost uncomfortably close to mine as she focuses on her task. 

“There,” she says, finishing up with a small bandage on my cheek. “You’re good to go.”

I grunt in response, still feeling a little flustered. Minji hands me a cup of warm tea, our fingers brushing briefly. I take a sip, the warmth of the liquid heating me up from the inside.

“Thanks,” I muttered, avoiding her gaze as I stared down at the contents of the mug in my hands. 

Minji, seemingly oblivious to the hint of awkwardness that I feel, takes a seat on the kitchen counter across from me. “No problem. It’s the least I can do.”

I take another sip of tea, unsure of how to navigate this foreign scenario. I try to rack my brain, searching for something to say, but nothing comes out. Thankfully, Ms. student council president manages to save the day.

“Soo…” she starts, her eyes peering into her cup. “What do you usually do when you’re not getting into fights?”

I glanced up at her, surprised by the sudden question. “Um… I don’t know. Nap, I guess.”

Minji giggles softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Really? That’s quite… unique.” She flashes a bright smile at me.

I shrug, feeling a little embarrassed by her reaction. “What about you?” I ask after a pause. 

Minji chuckled, a smile lingering on her face. “Well, when I’m not studying or dealing with student council stuff, I like to sing.”

I look up at her, genuinely curious. “Really? I would’ve never guessed that.”

“Yeah, I haven’t really told anyone this aside from a few close friends. Sometimes I would tell my parents that I’m studying at the library, but in reality, I’m at the karaoke place with them.” She giggles to herself before her expression suddenly darkens and her gaze drops to the floor. Minji lets out a sigh before saying, “My parents would never approve. They want me to go to a good college and probably become a doctor or something.”

The room fell into a thoughtful silence, aside from the thunder and rain that continued to pour outside. I saw a side of Minji that was kept hidden behind the cheerful facade she usually wore. Despite the two of us being strangers before today, I couldn’t help but feel sympathetic towards her. I racked my mind, thinking of something to say that could offer her comfort.

“I-I’m sorry,” is all I managed to stutter out. I mentally facepalmed myself for not being able to help her more.

Minji looked up, her eyes meeting mine, and for a brief moment, I could see a deep sadness within them. She managed a small smile before looking back down at her mug. “It’s okay, Yuno. It’s just a silly hobby anyways.”

She steps off of the kitchen counter and downs the remainder of her tea before placing her mug in the sink. I watch as she peers over at the clock hanging on the wall, the arms pointing to 9:00. “It’s getting late, but…” Her gaze turns to the window above the sink, a sigh escaping her lips. “The rain isn’t letting up.”

I stand up from my chair, mentally preparing myself for the treacherous walk home. “It’s okay Minji, I ca-”

“You can spend the night here.”

My eyes grow wide in shock, staring at the back of her head as she continues to face the window. “H-huh?”

A million thoughts run through my head as her unexpected offer hangs through the air. Spending the night? At Minji’s place? It felt like I had suddenly woke up in an alternate reality and didn’t notice until now. 

Minji slowly turned to look at me, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush as she met my bewildered gaze with a sheepish smile. “Yeah… Look, it’s pouring outside and you could get sick. My parents are both gone for a business trip, so they won’t be back until this weekend.”

I hesitated, completely baffled at the situation I was faced with. No words come out as I continue to stare at Minji in shock. “I-I uhh… w-what?”

Minji briskly walks past me without another thought. “You can crash on the couch. I’ll get you some blankets.” 

I suddenly find myself alone in Minji’s kitchen. Me. In Minji’s house. Alone. With Minji. I don’t know how long I stood there in silence. I was like a deer caught in headlights, completely still despite the feeling of impending doom heading my way. My mind was running at a thousand miles a minute.

“Yuno!”

My head snaps towards the source of the sound. Minji’s head pokes out behind the wall leading to the living room. “Are you okay?”

I scratch my head, feeling a bit awkward. “Y-yeah, I’m good.” I come to my senses and walk towards the living room, where Minji placed a couple of pillows and two neatly folded blankets on the couch.

“Make yourself comfortable. Oh, I went ahead and put your uniform in the wash. It should be all nice and dry in the morning.” She says, flashing me a reassuring smile. I notice a twinge of anxiety deep within her eyes.

“T-thanks,” I reply sheepishly.

“If you need me, I’ll be upstairs in my room. Just knock.” Minji begins to walk away but stops at the foot of the stairs. “Um… Good night, Yuno.” She gives me a small smile before disappearing up the stairs.

I plop myself onto the couch and stare at the ceiling, unsure of what to make of this day. I replay the events in my head - The monotonous school day, followed by me kicking Bryce Merten’s ass. Meeting Minji in the detention room. The rain. And now I’m in Minji Kim’s house, drinking Minji Kim’s tea, and sitting on Minji Kim’s couch. What the fuck.

I lay down on the couch, the exhaustion of everything catching up to me. The plush cushions carry me gently, enveloping my body in comfort. My eyelids begin to get heavier and heavier until my vision eventually goes black. 

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

“Hanni!! What should I do?!” I whisper-screamed into the phone.

“Girl, you’re gonna have to explain all that again, I could barely understand you,” I hear my friend reply in a snarky tone.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves before I relay the events again. “Okay, so I was just doing paperwork in the detention room because Ms. Rusnak was out and all of a sudden this guy named Yuno walks in with his face all bloody because he got into a fight somehow, and then I was gonna leave after detention ended, but he offered to walk me home, which was nice I guess, but then it started raining so I invited him to wait inside until the rain calmed down because I didn’t want him to get sick, but for some reason, the rain NEVER calmed down, so now he’s sleeping on my couch.” I stop to catch my breath at the end of my rambling, waiting for Hanni’s response.

“Wait, Yuno? As in Yuno Lin? The guy who knocked out Bryce Mertens?” she asked.

“Y-yeah… I think so.” I hesitantly admitted.

“I mean, I didn’t know you were into bad boys, but whatever floats your boat,” Hanni teases.

I groan in annoyance. “Hanni now is not the time for jokes! My parents will kill me if they find out I have a boy staying over!!”

I hear Hanni chuckle at her own joke. “Relax, Minj. Your parents won’t be back for three more days, you’ll be fine.”

I collapse face first into my bed, feeling defeated. “I guess so…” My muffled voice says into the mattress. I let out a long sigh, turning onto my back and staring at the ceiling.

“Sooo, what’s he like?” Hanni asks. “I always see him alone all the time, so I assumed he was just some creepy weirdo or something.”

I pause, contemplating my answer. “He’s… different from what I thought he would be. He’s not a creepy weirdo at all. He’s quiet and a little awkward, but he means well and seems nice enough.”

Hanni’s curiosity peaks. “Oooh, mysterious bad boy with a soft heart sleeping with the student council president. Sounds like a plot to a K-drama.”

I quickly sit up, my cheeks burning red with embarrassment. “Hanni!! It’s not like that at all!!” Hanni’s laugh can be heard from the speaker of my phone. I hang up and collapse back on the bed, too tired to deal with her for tonight. I let out a sigh and tightly shut my eyes, hoping that I’d wake up and find out all of this was just some weird dream.

[darling-archeron]

@littedidyouknow, surprise! I was your Secret Santa for @acotargiftexchange. I had so much fun writing this fic for you. We talked about how you liked hurt comfort and would change how some of feysand's trauma was handled, so I combined that with some holiday fluff. This is chapter 1/3. I hope you enjoy - happy holidays!

With every solstice, it seems the Inner Circle grows. As Nyx's first solstice approaches, Feyre and Rhysand celebrate holiday traditions, both new and old, while grappling with unhealed wounds.

After a night of fitful tossing and turning, it was safe to say that when light streamed through the bedroom window, Feyre wasn’t ready to face the day.

Between Nyx’s fussing, Rhys’s restlessness, and her bad dreams, she would have been just as well off not going to bed at all. All week, she had felt drained, and last night had been no different.

At least, Nyx was often good about sleeping soundly in the morning. A true Night Court child, it was the late hours that kept him awake. Judging by the slant of the sun – or what she could glimpse of it, through her barely-open eyes – she and Rhys should have another hour of peace.

Rhys, it seemed, had also managed to fall into a fitful sleep at last. Despite his tossing and turning, he had still ended up nestled in her arms.

Right where she liked him. Surrounded by his warmth. Close enough to feel his heartbeat.

She had tried to keep her unrest concealed from Rhys. She wasn’t sure why – they didn’t keep things from one another. She knew he would listen in quiet understanding to whatever she was feeling. But she got the sense he had been feeling the same way – even if he didn’t show it in his waking hours, his fitful sleep was enough of an indication.

Even so, knowing she wasn’t alone in her unrest didn’t stop her from feeling completely ungrateful and selfish.

This time of year was supposed to be for celebration and thankfulness. And yet, here she was, with everything she could want in the world – a family, a home, peace, a loving mate, and a healthy child – and she still felt…discontented. Heavy.

A little haunted.

Gods, she was ungrateful.

More long minutes passed until she felt Rhys stir beside her.

“Good morning, love” he murmured, though he sounded as exhausted as she felt, even as he pressed a kiss into her hair.

She mumbled something barely coherent back, leaning into his touch.

“Sleep well?”

“Not really,” she admitted.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, sounding a little more awake. Of course, they were both used to getting up during the night to calm down Nyx when he woke. This was different.

“I’m just so tired,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“Did I keep you awake?” he asked with equal softness, pressing her closer.

“No, I don’t think I would have slept either way.” She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the drowsiness away while cringing against the sunlight streaming in.

Noticing her squint, Rhys flicked his fingers, and the heavy navy curtains immediately snapped shut.

“What’s bothering you?”

“I think I could ask you the same thing.” He had dodged bringing the unrest up as much as she had in past conversations, which was unlike both of them.

“Avoiding the question, are we?” He kept his tone light, but Feyre felt the undercurrent of concern. On a different morning, she might have tried to continue to tease and play, but…she didn’t realize how much of her fear and exhaustion she had been keeping from him. How long until fate tried to tear them apart again?

It haunted her, to think of how they had cheated death thrice. They couldn’t be so lucky again.

“This probably sounds silly, and maybe it’s selfish of me. For the first time in years, it feels like there’s no major disaster looming. Everyone is healthy, and our relationships with the other courts and the continents are going well. I know I shouldn’t be anxious. But it’s as if…for the first time in years – I really have time to think about everything that’s happened. During the War, and after.”

Wordless for once, Rhys just held her, rubbing soothing circles up and down her back.

“I think I’m feeling the same way you are,” he finally said. “Our first few solstices together, the relief was outweighing everything. Surviving the war and everything that came before…”

And Nyx’s birth, too. He didn’t need to say it.

“I just felt so much disbelief that we had made it through, that we had each other. But now…I just keep thinking about all the ways things have gone wrong, all the ways things could go wrong. I know it doesn’t do any good. I don’t want to ruin the present, by dwelling on what-ifs. Perhaps it makes me ungrateful, to still feel grief now. But my mind…it keeps trying to drag me back to times I’d rather not remember.”

“No, Rhys,” Feyre interjected sharply – and she couldn’t deny how cathartic it felt, to hear her own doubts in him. And if she could reassure him – she could reassure herself.

This is what they did. Blamed themselves for things they shouldn’t, patched up each other’s wounds. Held each other through the dark.

It was comforting, to know that she wasn’t alone in her exhaustion. That Rhys was beside her, as he was in so many things.

“I understand,” she continued. “Now that things have settled down. It’s like I actually have time to process some of the things that happened. In a way that…I suppose I didn’t before. I suppose I didn’t want to tell you, to make you feel bad.”

That first solstice, after the war, everything had been so fresh, so new. There had been sorrow, yes, and a sense of loss, but the warmth of love surrounding her for the first time in so long had kept the cold at bay.

Her mate didn’t say anything, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. Rhys didn’t say anything for a long while, but she could guess that his mind was half Under the Mountain.

“It’s nothing worth remembering,” he insisted, but she caught the way he stiffened.

Gently, she turned his head to face hers, their eyes meeting. “That doesn’t mean it won’t need a way to come out, one way or another.” If she could save him some nightmares tonight by having this conversation now…

“You’re the one who said you were tired, darling. I shouldn’t be putting on this you.”

She frowned. “Where is this coming from, Rhys? Let me share your burdens, as you share mine.”

Together, as they were in all things.

Still, he frowned. “I…I don’t know if I can right now. Maybe later?”

Rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back, she sent a pulse of understanding down the bond. He hadn’t wanted to talk last night, either, when she had asked him why he was restless.

He would be ready at some point, she trusted, but that conversation wasn’t what he needed right now.

“We can talk about something else. What about other Solstices - when you were younger? How did you celebrate – where did the snowball fight come from?” She asked to get his mind on more pleasant things, but also of her own curiosity. No matter how much she learned of her mate’s 500 years of life, it seemed there was always more to hear.

He considered the question, idly playing with a strand of her golden-brown hair. She snuggled up closer to his comforting warmth.

“When I was very young, my least favorite part was always the court parties I would have to attend. Long, drawn-out events, mostly in Hewn City. Mor and I would always try to sneak off, only for one of our parents or nannies to drag us back by our ears.”

“Your parents let a child attend revels in the Court of Nightmares?” she asked incredulously. She had seen parties there that bordered on orgies.

“Oh, we were sent to bed long before things were that wild. The night felt like it dragged on long enough as it was – once, Mor almost fell asleep, falling face first into her roasted duck.”

“As I’m sure is no surprise, my father wasn’t much of a family man. Certainly not by the time I was born. If it wasn’t for my mother, I’m sure we barely would have celebrated outside the Court of Nightmares. And my mother, for as much as her chosen family meant to her, quickly realized that the strife of getting my father to stop thinking about politics for one day was more trouble than it was worth. When I was training in Illyria, it often got a little quieter around Solstice. For most, it was their only leave for the year. I was one of the lucky ones, with my mother living in camp, and my father occasionally dragging me away for one of his own lessons…”

“What a lucky little High Lord, getting special privileges,” Feyre teased, flicking his nose.

Rhys scoffed. “If you can call sitting through endless meetings in the Court of Nightmares, or being chased through the woods by whatever my father decided to send after me “special privileges.”

“But what I meant was that Cassian didn’t have any family they cared to visit outside of the camps. So there were years when it was just my mother and the two of us – later the three of us, once Azriel showed up. She would make special treats, and always sewed new clothes for the three of us. I wish I could say our gifts were always as thoughtful.” He chuckled. “At the very least, she always made a show of being pleased with whatever we had come up with. Those are some of my favorite Solstice memories.”

She felt his mental presence gently slipping through the walls of her mind, sharing a memory through his eyes, of his mother and his brothers, eating cookies and sharing presents by the crackling fire.

“I swear, I never would have thought such a thing was possible, but after my sister was born, she softened my father. When Celeste was young, there were a few years when the four of us would get together in Velaris. My sister would throw a fit if my father didn’t make some kind of effort to be with us through the holidays – and with anyone else, I would have sworn the holiday would have been better without the prick. But…he was kinder to her. Like he wanted to give her the childhood the rest of us hadn’t been afforded.”

Feyre listened attentively; hand braced gently on his arm as Rhys immersed himself in the years long past. 

“Celeste loved the holidays. Loved any reason to celebrate. Her favorite tradition was always baking, and she’d stay in the kitchen for hours and help my mother and the servants prepare dessert. When she got a little older, she would always try and join my brothers and I during our snowball fights. I would usually tell her to stop being a pest. But Az…he was the good one. He would let her join his team, pummel Cass and I. Of course, we’d always tell him that his win that year didn’t count, since he had extra help.” Her mate smiled at the memory.

“What else?” Feyre asked softly, eager to learn more pieces about the girl she had never met.

“She loved to ice skate. That was usually what the two of us did together.”

“You? On ice skates?” Feyre couldn’t help but interject in disbelief, incredulous at the idea of Rhys gliding across the ice. Not that he wasn’t graceful, but it didn’t exactly fit in with the idea of Illyrian brute strength.

“You doubt my abilities? I was an excellent skater. I’m the one who taught Celeste.”

She pictured Rhys, the dutiful big brother, spinning around on the ice with his sister, faster and faster, both of them laughing and carefree.

“You said you were an excellent skater. Are you still?”

“I haven’t done it in years, but you should know I’m a quick study,” he said slyly.

“Would you want to pick it up again?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, why don’t we do all of those things. The skating, the baking,” Feyre suggested.

He didn't answer for a moment, turning over her words, and Feyre was struck by the thought that he might not want part in these traditions with anyone other than his sister, that she was invading on a treasured memory.

Before she could brush her words away, change the subject, a smile played at Rhys's lips.

“You wouldn’t be bored? Doing all of these old traditions with me?”

She shook her head. “Of course not! And…I think it would help me, too, to spend time with you. To just be. I’ve been trying to stay so busy and focused on the future, our future, but…I can’t outrun everything. Maybe, if we can find some time, it could be good. To just be together, in the moment.”

And maybe if they were lucky, the magic of Solstice could bring a little healing to them both.  

"I'd like that a lot. We could bring Nyx along, too.”

“There are three days until Solstice. How many activities do you think we can fit in?”

“You’re in luck, my darling wife. As an early birthday present, I’ve cleared both of our calendars. Now, I’ll admit the activities I had in mind originally were a little more…physical,” he said, and she was very aware of his hand creeping up the side of her shirt, “but…few things would make me happier.”

“Well then, it sounds like a plan,” Feyre said, pressing a long, slow kiss to his mouth.

And for the first time in days, she felt lighter.