#because he confessed his love once to Val and Val laughed at him and acted like Vox was the same as anyone else he'd fucked

[hypervoxel]

The first time Vox said, "I love you," to Valentino, it went horribly wrong, because Val laughed and made a joke about how often he's heard that as a sex worker (especially now that he's in Hell and has become a walking talking aphrodisiac that Vox was currently high on). Vox is now so self conscious about his feelings and has never voiced them that way since. In Val's mind, he told Vox to only say that if he means it, but Vox hasn't told Val he loves him ever again, so Val certainly isn't going to be the one to say it first.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

For Hazbin Hotel, can you do headcannons for what Angel Dust, Husk, Lucifer, and Alastor would want in an s/o and what would attract them to someone? Like whats the first thing that they tend to notice in a potential partner, what do they generally find attractive, and what would they need in a long term partner. Those kind of vibes. Thank you lovely <3

TW: Sexual Assult, Violence, Mental Health, Fluff, Drinking

Angel Dust

Angel fell for you the day he saw you on the streets of hell helping out some women in the porn district who were Val's latest victims.

You were kind and caring, gently cleaning wounds, offering a full meal, and providing preventive care.

To most, you were nothing special—just a demon seeking to help those who were hurting. Many, like Alastor, thought you were more insane than others because you wanted to help.

When Angel informed Charlie about you, he was oddly excited to learn that the princess of hell was seeking you out to join the hotel.

Your story was sad about how you died, being assaulted, and using self-defense, landing you in hell unfairly.

Angel was enamored by you and how you cared so much about sex workers and those who were involved in his profession.

When Angel finally confessed, it was after you confronted Valentino.

Angel was so scared Val would hurt or bind you in a contract; however, he was wrong.

You were a sleeper weapon because as Val opened his mouth to harm you or Angel, you ripped out some of his mothy fur.

You had learned that trick from Niffty.

Angel loved having you as his partner, ready to clean his wounds and be his voice when he needed one.

He never had to describe what was happening to him in detail; you just knew and were always there to help him.

He was absolutely in love and would do anything to break his contract so he could join you on your healing escapades.

Husk

Husk fell for you hard and fast while you two were having a drinking competition.

You were no lightweight, seeing as you had died due to alcoholism.

Husk, however, was the notorious drunkard of the hotel, so having a challenge was a new joy for him.

Starting the challenge, he was purely ready to beat you, nothing else.

However, when he saw you downing pint after pint like it was no one's business, he thought it was the most beautiful thing ever.

He was even more surprised by you being completely fine afterward.

You helped clean both of you up, doling out pain meds, water, and crackers.

As you doctored him and helped make sure his hangover wasn't so bad, he was just falling for you more.

Someone who could out-drink him and cared enough not to be a sore winner was impressive.

After that day, he sought you out as a casual drinking buddy, but the conversations you two had led to less drinking than usual.

As you two bonded, he finally grew the courage to ask you to be his.

When he confessed, he made a bet with you that you had to go out with him if he could down 25 beers in 10 minutes.

You laughed and let him act out his game, choosing to not let him know you would go out with him without the gamble.

He was happy to have someone who genuinely cared about him and didn't pry.

You were a breath of fresh air to all the other sinners in hell.

Lucifer

Lucifer fell watching you care for Charlie at the hotel when he couldn't.

Lucifer was enamored at how parental you were with his child, even though she was a grown adult.

He was a family man, and someone with a healthy relationship with Charlie set his heart aflame.

You were never pessimistic about Chalries's ideals or plans, and it made him so happy to see such a strong, supportive person guiding her.

Lucfier never failed to commend you for explaining projects and ideas well to the fast-paced girl.

Looking at you, he saw all the good things Lilith once offered but so much more.

When he finally caved into his feelings, he asked you for advice more often.

When he found out your death was a consequence of your ex-husband and his mistress, he was livid.

He was half tempted to call on I.M.P. to ruin that man above.

Your smile and optimism were contagious, though; you never let your death get you down.

When Lucifer was ready to confess, he got Charlie to help him.

The two brought you a cake, asking you to join the family.

There was also a huge musical number you just smiled through and clapped.

Alastor

Alastor was an enigma; he didn't know when or how he fell in love with you.

It could have been several things, ranging from your morality, thought process, ideals, and thirst for all things powerful.

All he knew was one day, you weren't a part of his everyday life, and the next, he couldn't bear the thought of you being gone.

He hated weakness, though, so he never verbally informed you or anyone that he cared so much.

Instead, he did small acts of service for you to show that he listened and cared.

When he allowed you to touch him for the first time, he was embarrassed at how happy you were.

He then swore that any touch from you was worth it if you smiled like that more at him.

He made you a permanent fixture of his broadcasts and allowed you to torment the souls that would be heard all over hell.

He knew he was whipped when he took you to meet Rosie, and she could see it all over his face.

She asked you about how you two started dating, and when Alastor went red and pulled his ears back, it was a dead giveaway.

You, however, never pressured Alastor to make anything official, allowing him to choose when he was ready.

As soon as he was ready, though, he took you out on a fancy dinner and a high-class evening of dancing.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Chapter 13

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

“Explain again why you’re doing this to yourself, Mulder?” Byers asks with a pained look of concern.

He’s sifting through his closet, deciding what would be appropriately friendly for his outing with Scully. What kind of outfit says “I have no intention of trying to seduce you,” but also doesn’t leave him looking unworthy of seduction?

“I wish I knew, Byers,” he says as he pulls out his Greys jersey. Sports attire is very casual, but Val had once told him that he was devastatingly sexy in this jersey, so he tugs it off the hanger and puts it on over his white T-shirt. “I guess the idea of never seeing her again is even worse than being around her and knowing we’ll never be more than friends.”

Byers shakes his head slowly. “You’re a glutton for punishment, Mulder. Are you sure you aren’t secretly holding out hope that you can steal her away?”

Mulder buttons up the jersey and considers the question, his mouth quirked to the side. “I mean, I’m not actively trying to do anything, she’s way too smart for that and she’d see right through it. But the hope is there, sure.”

Byers nods sadly. “Well, good luck. Here are the keys, by the way.” He pulls a small key ring from his pocket and hands it to Mulder, who deposits it into his jeans pocket.

“Thanks, Byers, I appreciate the favor. I owe you one,” he says, clapping the man on the back.

After Byers is gone he brushes his teeth, considers and then decides against pounding a beer to calm his nerves, then says goodbye to Priscilla and heads to the Hoover building.

Scully is early, leaning against the passenger side door of her car when he pulls into the lot. He lets out a pained moan when he sees her, clad in flared jeans and a peasant-style flowered top that is cinched under her breasts. While he knows that realistically no human is perfect, Scully is about as close as it gets. He tries not to imagine what she’s got on under there, lest he embarrass himself.

He pulls up beside her and she opens the door, smiling at him shyly as she lowers herself into the passenger seat.

“Hi,” she says, and just the greeting makes his heart ache.

“Hey,” he returns with what he hopes is a casual, friendly smile. Do not leer at her. Do not gaze. He’s been giving himself frequent reminders.

“So, what do you have planned?” she asks as she pulls the seatbelt across her lap.

Mulder smirks in reply, backing out of the lot. “All in good time,” he says, and she gives him an appraising look.

“I’m not even sure why I’m instilling so much trust in you here, Mulder. Don’t push it,” she says with a playful tone, though it’s clear there’s some truth to the statement.

“Okay, okay, I’ll give you the preliminary details,” He acquiesces. “First we’re going to The Queen Vic, which has the best fish and chips in DC, in my humble opinion. Have you been there?”

She shakes her head.

“Perfect. Then we’ll head down to the wharf and get some ice cream.” He suddenly wonders if he’s made incorrect assumptions about what she likes, and casts her a concerned glance at a stoplight. “Do you like ice cream?”

She looks at him like he has three heads. “Who doesn’t like ice cream?”

He feels a little wave of relief. “I’m sure there’s someone out there who doesn’t like ice cream,” he replies, “but frankly, whoever they are, I have no interest in knowing them.”

She chuckles and there it is again, that ache in his chest. He wonders if it will fade over time.

The Queen Vic isn’t very busy just yet, given that they’re having an early dinner. They are seated at a small, dimly lit booth and each order a beer, fish and chips. Scully opts for an IPA and he feels a retroactive flush of embarrassment at the beer he served her, now knowing what her tastes are. She’s looking around, taking in the ambiance and British paraphernalia papering the walls, and he is looking at her. The cut of her top reveals the soft swell of her breasts, pale and inviting. Even her neck is beautiful, smooth and long and god, he wants to kiss it. Has he ever been taken with someone’s jawline before? Well he has now. Devastatingly beautiful, she is. Ache. Ache. Ache.

She’s looking at him now, and he smiles guiltily, having been caught. Fuck. He promised himself he wouldn’t do that. She bites her lip and fiddles with the salt shaker as though she’s not entirely sure what function it serves. What would a friend do? What would a friend ask? He needs to act like a friend, if he wants to be one.

“So, how’s wedding planning going?” he asks, the words feeling sour in his mouth.

She gives him a quizzical expression. “It’s okay. Fine, I guess.”

He nods. “And how’s Ethan?”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Um...fine. He’s fine. Mulder...why are you asking me about that? About the wedding, and Ethan?”

He dips his chin a bit, giving the pepper shaker a similar assessment. “I guess I just figured if we’re friends, a friend would ask about things like that?” He chances a glance at her and her expression is sympathetic, perhaps even pitying.

“You don’t need to do that, Mulder. We don’t have to talk about my relationship to be friends.” She’s running her finger over the condensation on the side of her glass, and he finds it disturbingly arousing.

“Fair enough, how’s work? Is that a better topic?” He is rewarded with a smile. My god that smile. She could melt permafrost with that smile.

“Work is great, no complaints,” she says coolly, an apparently genuine answer.

They drink, and eat, and talk. They talk about why she loves teaching, and how she got into pathology. He shares a bit about his methods for starting and then adjusting a criminal profile. They talk about med school, and his time at Oxford. He tells her about Phoebe and she admits a proclivity towards dating older men, with the exception of Ethan. It is so easy between them, and so right. He wants to scoop her up and steal her away in his car. Take her to a faraway place where there is no Ethan, where they can see this thing through. He notices how she often tries to hide her smiles, and the major role her eyebrows play in her facial expressions. She has a little mole above her lip that she’s attempted to cover with makeup, and her fingernails are perfectly manicured, like she has them professionally done. He wonders if she has tattoos, or piercings. If her bellybutton is an innie or an outie. If she prefers breakfast or dinner. If she likes morning sex. If she trims her pubic hair or takes it all off. He wants to know her, every bit. But he can’t. He never will. It hurts to think about it.

He drives them down to the wharf and they get ice cream cones from a stand near the water; she picks cookies and cream and he opts for rocky road. The evening is warm but not uncomfortable, the sun holding steady as it makes its descent towards the horizon. These are the dog days of summer, the daylight stretching well into the evening. No cover of darkness for a lover’s confession, not that he has any business making one. Friends meeting in daylight, above board. Never anything more.

They walk along the boardwalk, continuing their conversation between sweet licks, and he avoids watching her, but not entirely successfully. He must have been putting too much effort towards not staring and too little towards rotating his cone, because suddenly his ice cream flops over the side of its perch and lands on the ground with an audible smack.

He stops walking and stares at the now empty cone in his hand for a beat, and then he hears her giggling. When he looks over to her, she has her hand firmly planted over her mouth while she struggles to contain her laughter, the titters shaking her shoulders gently. The resulting swell of affection is overwhelming.

“You think that’s funny, huh?” he says dryly, and she works even harder to stop laughing, her face contorting into a grimace as tears pool in her eyes, shaking her head as though she could possibly deny her amusement.

He chucks his cone into a nearby trash can, then approaches her.

“Looks like you’ll have to share yours with me,” he says, moving his hand as though to take her ice cream, and she pulls it away with an open-mouthed expression of shock.

“Get out of here, it’s not my fault you licked yours right off the cone,” she says, wiping at her eyes with her free hand.

“Come on, Scully, friends share, don’t they?” he teases, maneuvering around to where she’s moved her arm, swiping at it playfully.

“Mulder, knock it off,” she replies, still smiling, and they are now moving in circles, him towards her ice cream while she artfully moves it out of his grasp.

Suddenly he swoops behind her, his long arms circling her waist and pulling her flush against him, pinning her stationary while he wraps his hand around her wrist and brings her ice cream cone to his own mouth. She shrieks in protest as he steals a big bite, and once he’s accomplished his goal, he becomes aware of their proximity. The feel of her pressed against him, the taper of her waist under his forearm, the smell of her shampoo in his nose. He grips her tighter, ever so briefly, but then releases her suddenly. He has no right. He crossed a line. She steps forward slowly, turning to look at him with pink cheeks.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, his arms dropping to his sides, woefully empty. Missing her already.

She shakes her head gently. “It’s okay,” she says, and they continue walking.

As they approach his car, the sun is just beginning to kiss the horizon. It’s nearly 8:30.

“This was really fun, Mulder, thank you,” she says with a shy smile, and he grins at the affirmation.

“There is one more thing I had planned, Scully, unless you have to get home right away,” he says cautiously, and she regards him with surprise, but not unpleasantly so.

“I don’t know, let me call my mother and see if I can stay out past curfew,” she jokes, but then adds “I suppose I’m curious to see what else you’ve got up your sleeve.”

“Great, let’s go,” he replies as he opens the car door for her.

———

She watches streetlights racing past as Mulder drives them to their final destination and feels a swell of guilt for how wonderful this night has been, then tries to talk herself out of it. She’s done nothing wrong, nothing inappropriate. She’s allowed to have dinner and ice cream with a man who is not her fiancé; he doesn’t own her. Given, the moment with the ice cream cone was a bit more flirtatious than might be ideal, but they were caught up in the moment. She tries not to remember the feel of his compact body pushed against her back, the strength of his arm around her waist. Tries not to imagine how it would feel to have him hold her like that without their clothes on. She closes her eyes and swallows.

They pull up in front of a darkened sports complex and she turns to look at him, questions communicated through her eyes.

“You don’t have something more worthwhile to do right now than slap a horsehide with a stick do ya, Scully?” he says with a smirk.

Her eyebrows lift. “Perhaps not, Mulder, but it looks like they’re closed.”

“A mere technicality,” he replies as he parks right in front of the main entrance, not even in a parking spot.

They approach the doors and he produces a set of keys from his pocket, holding the door open for her before he locks it behind them. There are security lights faintly illuminating the shuttered games and concessions, and she startles a little when she feels him slip his hand into hers, pulling her towards a hallway. His hand is broad and slightly callused, and she unconsciously threads her fingers through his. He glances at her, a slight cast of surprise in his features, but doesn’t say anything.

When they reach a large room, he flips on the lights and she sees rows of batting cages, five or six lined up on either side of a walkway down the middle.

“Are we supposed to be in here?” she asks him suspiciously, and he shrugs.

“The cops aren’t going to roll up or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he says as he gathers a bucket of balls and two bats. “Even if they did, a couple FBI badges should send them off right quick.” He winks at her and she feels a flutter in her belly.

He motions for her to follow him to one of the cages, and she waits nervously while he loads the pitching machine and turns it on. When he turns around, he sees her trepidation and smiles warmly at her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he says reassuringly, and she forces her mouth into a tight smile.

He directs her to stand just outside the cage and demonstrates for her how the pitching machine works, talking her through his stance and movements for seven or eight pitches. He hits every single one, sending the ball crashing into the back wall with a padded smack, and she has the unsettling feeling that she’s about to embarrass herself.

“Alright, batter up!” he says, handing her the bat and sending her in.

She gives him a doubtful look.

“It’s easy, you’ll get the hang of it,” he encourages her, then shows her where to stand before he steps out and starts the pitching machine.

When the first pitch sails by, she winces and lets out a little squeak, but doesn’t swing. She can hear Mulder chuckle a little, but waits for the next one. When it comes, she swings way too early, and it flies past her head and bounces off the back wall. Three or four complete misses later, she looks at him woefully.

“I’m terrible at this, Mulder,” she whines.

He shakes his head and smiles at her.

“You just need some minor adjustments,” he offers, then comes inside the cage. He steps up close behind her and she startles a little at the contact.

“Sorry, is this okay? It’s the best way to show you,” he offers, and she nods, the back of her head brushing against his shoulder with the movement. He’s just showing her how to hit a stupid baseball. It’s the least romantic thing on earth, as far as she’s concerned.

He steps close again, wrapping his arms around hers as the length of his torso presses firmly against hers from her shoulder blades right down to her ass. She can feel his breath hot on her ear as he speaks.

“Now don’t strangle the bat, Scully, just shake hands with it,” he says as their palms brush over one another, vying for real estate. “We want to go hips before hands,” he continues, “stride forward, and then turn.” He motions with a hand in front of her towards the pitching machine, and she nods in confirmation. “It’s hips,” he places an open palm against her hip bone and physically turns her torso. She feels a rush between her thighs. “Before hands,” he replaces his hand on the bat and guides them through a mock swing.

“Okay,” she says, taking a steadying breath.

“Again, that’s hips,” there his palm is again, hot and firm and pressing into her flesh as he tilts her pelvis forcibly, “before hands. What is it?”

“Um, hips before hands,” she says breathily, resisting an overwhelming urge to press her ass back harder into his lap, to slip that hand beneath the waistband of her jeans so she can feel it on her bare skin. She has a vision of her riding him on the floor as the pitching machine flings balls aimlessly against the back wall, no one caring enough to hit them. She shivers.

“We’re gonna wait on the pitch, keep our eye on the ball, and then we’re just gonna make contact. We’re not gonna think, we’re just gonna let it fly, Scully, okay?”

“Okay,” she says shakily, her heart thrumming in her chest.

They take several swings, the bat making contact with the ball with a sharp crack. Mulder is murmuring in her ear about letting your mind go blank and forgetting about all your worries, but she’s too distracted by the heat of his body and the smell of his aftershave to hear him. If not for the risk of getting pelted by a ball, she just might turn in his arms, push him up against the wire-fence walls of this batting cage, and show him how she prefers to handle bats and balls.

The grip of his hands over hers on the bat pinches the skin around her engagement ring and she jerks. Mulder steps away from her a bit.

“You okay?” he asks, and she nods.

“Um, maybe I should try by myself now. Thanks for showing me,” she says without looking at him, and he steps back into the walkway to watch her. She hits the next three balls, then turns to smile at him victoriously. The pain and longing in his expression makes her heart sink.

After shutting the place down, they drive back to the Hoover building in relative silence, tension hanging thick between them like a curtain. He puts the car in park and gets out, walking her to the door of her own car, which strikes her as unnecessary. She stands by the open door, sensing that there’s something he wants to say.

“Scully….” he stops and shakes his head gently, talking himself out of it.

“What?” she asks, desperately wanting to know what he was going to say.

He clenches his jaw, fighting an inner battle.

“Scully, I know I shouldn’t say this to you. I know that you’re...with someone. I just-” he purses his lips, then closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, his eyes are so full of emotion it makes her breath catch in her chest. “I think about you all the time. Every second of every day.”

“Oh,” she responds lamely. There’s that urge again, the one she has to resist. “You seem like the kind of guy that believes in reincarnation, Mulder,” she says softly.

He gives her a quizzical look. “I don’t NOT believe in it,” he offers.

She smiles sadly at him, reaching out to grasp his hand and give it a brief squeeze. “Maybe in another life,” she says, then climbs into her car and shuts the door.

As she drives home, tears run down her cheeks freely. If she had to identify a reason for them, grief would be the closest one.

[aprilsrant]

Happiness.

Harry Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: mentions of the war, mentions of death/dying (promise nothing too serious), kind of angsty but fluff in the end. Enemies to lovers (kind of). Loosely based on the song Compass by The Neighbourhood.

A/N: This is a gift for my amazing girl Val, @minty-malfoy, I hope you can enjoy this fic, it was really fun to write. Happy Holidays to everyone reading this and to all of my followers, I love and appreciate all of you so much!

English is not my first language. Pictures are not mine. Open for more quality.

“I'm lucky you've been keeping me around

You're the star I look for every night

When it's dark, you'll stick right by my side.”

                                      Compass, The Neighbourhood.

Harry had never been one to believe in luck or chances, but there was no denying that ever since he was born, his entire destiny had been written in stone by someone who wanted nothing more than to destroy him; there was no denying that it felt like years of bad luck and a curse strong enough to affect everyone around him had been placed on his shoulders even before he could walk. 

After years of fighting Voldemort and his followers, Harry had the tendency of thinking that the norms of normality didn’t apply to him. Every new term at Hogwarts meant a new danger, threatening his life, his friends and the rest of the Wizarding Community that wasn’t part of the elite group of blood supremacists. 

Therefore, finding someone never did the top of his list when the number one was surviving through it all. Finding someone meant, at least to him, a glimpse of ordinariness and a sense of home, things that he never remembered of experiencing outside of Hogwarts and the Burrow. That being said, not under any circumstances Harry had believed encountering her would have been possible. 

(Y/N) was someone he had ignored and bound in a cage of old prejudice because of an ancient — and unhealthy — rivalry, one started centuries before they set foot on the castle. Their relationship wasn’t one for the romance movies the Muggles loved, those where the protagonists fall in love the moment they see each other. Instead, Harry and (Y/N) loathed the other ever since the first Potion class in their sixth year. 

For a Slytherin, dreams and ambitions are what you hold closely to your heart and anyone trying to defy them, or achieve them first, is waving a battle flag right in front of you, too loud to dismiss — or perhaps, the receiver of the message is too proud to ignore —. For (Y/N), seeing Harry Potter get all of Slughorn’s attention and praise when she had been the best on the subject for the last five years, was a slap in the face interpreted as a sign to unleash the rabid dogs of war.

If anyone had told Harry that he would grow to love her, to adore every piece of her, he would have laughed while claiming the person was mental. But, what was once a feud quickly transformed into a weird, unpredictable friendship. After that, it was only a matter of time for feelings to blossom.

Neither of them wanted to admit it, but deep inside of their chests and hearts, both knew that the sweaty hands, the longing stares, the intimacy of their jokes and the tenderness of their touch wasn’t the part of the play that friends acted.

It was then that the idea of bad luck and cursed for life appeared on his head again. How could he be so selfish to let her into his life when a real war was coming for him and for everyone who dared to choose his side? How could he pretend that the claws of death weren’t reaching for him, that his life didn’t depend on the shaky and ancient hands holding the scissors? Harry knew pulling Hermione and Ron, and his whole family, into the mess was already bad enough, but doing it to the girl who had become an unexpected beacon of light would make him even more guilty. It wasn’t fair that he had to worry about whether being with her or not would endanger her life, but Harry hadn’t been born for normality.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Harry heard her voice from behind him, strong but trying to cover the anger and hurt. It was only the two of them in the corridor since most of the other students were still in class or using their free period to study. The distance separating them gave the sensation of facing an endless ocean, one you could never cross. “Did I do or say something upsetting? Is it because of your friends? I know Ron doesn’t particularly like me but I promise I’m trying.”

“It’s not that and I’m not ignoring you,” Harry responded shortly, not stopping his walk or daring to glance back at her, afraid of giving in with only seeing the expression plastered in her face. The cold words escaping from his mouth and his attitude, rising the fire in the pit of her stomach.

“What do you mean you are not ignoring me, Harry?,” she scoffed while the pace of her footsteps increased to chase after the boy,  “you can’t even look me in the eye and say it to my face.”

“I’m answering your questions, am I not? In what way is this ignoring you then?” (Y/N) had admired Harry’s tendencies to sarcasm or ironic responses ever since they became friends — and perhaps even before —, but now she wanted to slap him for acting so unfaced.

“Well, I don’t know, maybe because one day you look like you’re finally about to ask me on a date but the next one, you avoid me as if I were sick!”

Harry’s steps faltered, his chest tightened at the thought of (Y/N) reciprocating his feelings.

“Please, just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it,” she whispered, putting herself in front of the boy.

“You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why are you acting like this? Is it because I’m a Slytherin?,” (Y/N) insisted. Now, Harry could see the ache and a hungry desperation in her eyes to know the answers, only there because of him. “Just don’t leave me, I- I can’t bear it. We can go back to hating each other if it makes it easier, but don’t do this, don’t leave me like this.”

“I don’t hate you, (Y/N), but I can’t give you what you want,” Harry said watching as her hands took hold of his owns, making his heart skipped a beat, “I’m not someone that can live a normal life, not with Voldemort threatening me and everyone I’m close with.” Harry didn’t miss her efforts to not flinch at the mention of the Dark Lord.

One of her hands travelled all the way up to his right cheek, the feeling of Harry’s skin and the way the boy had leaned into the touch of her fingers, forgetting for just a second all the worries plaguing his mind, had (Y/N)’s stomach almost bursting. 

“I don’t want nor need a normal life, Harry. I want you, I couldn’t care less about the rest,” she confessed.

“But I care! I care about what’s going to happen to you!,” He yelled (?), “you can get hurt, you can die, (Y/N)!”

“And so can you! Let me remind you, you’ve been there a couple of times now, Harry.” She was glad of choosing the empty corridor to confront him, not having to endure the hushed whispers and the stares, pointing at her as if she wouldn’t notice. “If there’s a war coming then I prefer to spend this few minutes of peace with you.”

“But if you-”

“And if I die, then I got to be with you in the end,” (Y/N) interrupted him, “I’m not afraid of dying, Harry, but I would love to live a little before doing so.”

He closed his eyes, releasing a shaky breath before embracing her figure and resting his head against her shoulders, smelling the signature and familiar fragrance of her perfume. A small smile appeared on (Y/N)’s face while she let herself enjoy the feeling of being in his arms, guarded from the evils outside the castle and loved by the boy she once used to loathe.

“We all deserve some happiness, and maybe even a tad of normalcy, Harry,” she whispered in his ear before looking at his green eyes and closing the distance between their lips.

Taglist: @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @gcdric @shadowsinger11 @thisismynerdyself @cappsikle @idont-knowrn @theweasleysredhair @aesthetically-hailey @slytherinsunrise @bannerbubble @lilac-wrists @storyisnotover

[ducknotinarow]

‘fly on the wall’ [BaileyRichard, because Bailey wants to hear his boo say nice things about him uwu]

Fly on the wall: Bailey

Convo between Richard and Val

A/n:I know we mention at time them living together so I went for that step in the relationship 

meme: do a drabble 

me: whats a drabble :,D

____

Richard was just standing at the bay window of his cafe’ watching the rain pouring down outside. Usually raining days brought more business in but it was just a slow night. Richard felt, restless. He was thinking about something that had come up the other day.

“Sulking cause you haven’t seen you’re boyfriend?” Valiere teased him from behind the counter. 

“im not sulking” He sharply replied back with.

Valiere looked at his foot and watched as he tapped it on the floor, how he held his arms crossed over his chest and dramatically had his head resting against the glass of the window. The rain washing over it really set the mood, god he was a drama king.

Part of her wonder if he chose to stand there for that reason alone. For such a stoic guy he was pretty expressive in other ways.

“You’re sulking.” She replied back with rolling her eyes as she smiled.

But she could tell he was thinking about something, she step around the counter and made her way over. Hoping up to sit on the cushion bench set up in the bay window. 

“Okay spill.”

Richard flicked his eyes down to her and raised an eyebrow a moment. 

“Whats on your the oh so benevolent gods mind that has him in such a sour mood.” She smiled up at him of course having to take a shot at his ego. She was the only one who did. 

Richard mulled it over a moment then sighed, maybe it be good to talk to her. He took a seat next to her and tip his head back able to feel the cold from the outside coming from the window. “Bailey mentioned moving in together.” 

Valiere’s interest was peeked now, she kind of understood the reason behind how he was actting. Richard never dated anyone really, he was a bachelor for life he mentioned to her once. Then after meeting Bailey he changed took forever but they finally started to date and everything seemed to be going well.  This was a big step it kind of excited her to hear they were getting more serious. She adored Bailey he was fun and they razzed Richard together when he came over. She approved of him for Richard so hearing things were moving like this was good. But a second looked towards Richard had her wondering a bit about why that had him like this. 

“So is that a bad thing?” She pressed, crossing her legs to get comfortable 

Richard rolled his head over to look at the robin. He looked unsure how to answer, eyes moving around as he thought, slow loosening his hold on his arms as he dropped them to his sides. “I don’t think so?” 

Val looked at him a moment, “Are you scared?”

“Terrified.” Richard confessed, it was easy to tell her these things. He turned his head to look back up at the celling. “I’ve never be so scared in my whole life, i’m pretty sure when I left I told him I had to shower the dog?”

Valiere tried not to laugh but she failed Richard couldn’t blame her, he had no idea what that was about himself. But after her snicker clamed down she looked back at the golden eagle. He never done anything like this before so of course he was scared. Never even used to have partners over at his place until Bailey. She knew he loved Bailey, and that Bailey loved him. Heck she knew it before they knew it they were so painfully obvious about it too. She shifted a bit turned towards him getting an idea. As she held up her hands. 

“Look left is for the cons, right is for the pros. So five each. Just list as it comes to mind. State if its a pro or a con of course, and which ever you hit five for first means if you’re ready or not deal?” She smiled after explained. Richard looked back to her after giving her childish answer. “Don’t be a prick do you wanna have to buy a dog to cover you’re dumb lie?” 

Richard just shrugged and sat up looking at her hands a moment.  tapping her left thumb first, this was her usual way of helping Richard. “Well I wouldn’t have privacy any more, unless coming here for one.” he tapped her left pointer finger next “I’d never have a peaceful morning again, since Bailey is always wanting my attention” Left middle finger got tapped next “He be able to annoy me any time he wants.” 

Val looked at her hands moment, worried because of how he was breezing through the cons ready to tap the next finger on her left, before stopping. he moved and tapped her right thumb instead. 

“I get to wake up to seeing him first thing. And I like that.” Richard smiled “He whimpers in his sleep sometimes and just cuddles into me.” He tapped her left finger “I can keep a better eye on him, to make sure hes taking better care of himself...he really needs to be kinder to himself.” tapped her right middle finger next “I can have more of those nice moments with him like when he feels the urge to come up and hug me from behind. I like that a lot too, how nice and loved a touch from him makes me feel.” He tapped the next finger on her right hand “Going home being the same place as Bailey sounds..really nice.” He tapped her right pinky next “I love him.”

Val just smiled and held up her right hand to show him what he knew and he just smiled. “Okay, okay maybe i’m not against it then” He glanced back out the window behind them. “I really do care about him and as scary as this can be...being with him makes it better. I mean we spend a lot of time together already. over at my place or his, there times we stay a couples days at the others. And thats always been fun.”

“I don’t wanna hear about your kinky sex times.”

Richard just chuckled “That wasn’t what I meant. It just feels nice being domestic with Bails. Stupid little dances with him, how he plops himself into my lap when Im trying to work from home. How he sits on the counter well I cook...I can’t trust him to cook or be alone in the kitchen anymore.” He interrupted with a moment “Just looks so happy when we get comfortable on the couch together. the way he cuddles up against me, coos my name in the adorable tone flutters his eyes up at me.” Richard smiled a big stupid grin on his beak thinking of Bailey. “How he worries about my work habits, ironic since he claims im the one to nag...though he’s right I do.” Yeah richard enjoy the sex and such but it was that stuff he liked with Bailey too. the playful bricking in the morning, the teaseing when he caught Richard praising himself in the mirror. Richard grew quite a moment 

“I love him so damn much Val, I want to stay with him as long as is allowed.” 

Valiere tilted her head at that “Allowed?” she asked 

He nodded a bit looking back at her again. “I mean sure this is coming up but how long till I chase him off you know? How long till he gets tried of me? how till he changes his mind and gains his senses?” 

Valiere just placed her hand on his shoulder and he sighed a bit. She never realized how much he really was in love. to a point he expected it to end even. “Has Bailey ever done anything to show that could happen?”

Richard shook his head “no...he kind of takes me as I am. Hes seen parts of me I try to hide and just.” He sighs again “God Bailey is amazing to me in truth. I’m so lucky that the person I fell for was Bailey. Hes a mess but he gets me. He makes me laugh so easily. Hes my favorite person in the world...the love of my life. I honestly can see us together long term even. I think hes honestly the one for me even. When were together it feels right. Yeah he annoys the hell out of me and he is a utter brat...but I don’t hate it. He makes me want to be a better person..someone worth being with him you know?” He just smiled gently to himself. “I more than love that idiot of mine, I adore him. I care for him...god he worries me sometimes.”

Val just nodded she understood why but it was cute how Richard got worried over the rooster. 

“I guess yeah I’m scared but if it’s Bailey I can do it?” 

She smiled and held her hand up in a fist, he smiled back and did the same. Gently bumming his fist against hers. Their little thing to say I got this, and I got you too. He leaned back against the window he felt a bit more laxed now if it got brought up again he could actually talk it over with Bailey now. 

“I still wasn’t sulking.” He added in 

“Pft yeah sure okay drama king. Oh im sorry should that be God of Drama? since you are a god on the earth gracing the mortals with your exsitence” Valier said in turn. 

“yes you should” Richard responded back with 

“God you’re so full of yourself.” Val just retorted with as she lead back aginst the window too. 

[damemaladroite]

Almost done with firefight...

So I’ve almost finished firefight by Brandon Sanderson, the second book in the Reckoners series. I feel pretty lukewarm about this book– despite trying to break this book into parts, I still didn’t feel super compelled to read this one. Granted my life has been a bit hectic and I haven’t had a lot of time to spend on reading but I genuinely feel like if this had been as action packed as Steelheart was, I wouldn’t be bothered by this. Steelheart was the sort of book you didn’t want to put down, whereas this one I almost couldn’t be bothered to pick it up.

I will say, that in the last third when Megan rejoins the plot, the book starts to pick up. Megan and David have a really great dynamic that feels pretty atypical of YA. David’s a perfectly written dork, and while Sanderson gives him his cool moments, it never feels like he’s trying too hard because you have so many moments where you just have to laugh at him (my favorite being his insistence that he is not a nerd) Megan balances him really well, she grounds him but at the same time she needs his sort of infectious enthusiasm in her more jaded world. I like their relationship and it’s pretty refreshing at the end of the day compared to a lot of other romances I’ve seen.

We’re kind of entering the endgame here, so spoilers ahead (I’ve only gotten to part 4 so far) * SPOILERS AHEAD *

Even though I’ve missed Cody and Abraham a lot this book, I’m glad that they’re not apart of this plot to undermine David. The whole thing feels messed up on a lot of levels.

Part of me wants to say it’s the powers that are warping the Prof (Honestly, at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up being the big bad of book 3) but I feel like it’s something else. David’s belief that Epics can change and be good is something that Prof obviously used to really believe in, and he views it as a dangerous route to go down, so he travels as far from it as he can. David’s insistence on studying the weaknesses and that Megan is innocent strike to close to that, and I feel like this is where a lot of the issue comes from.

Then there is Megan, who Prof distrust’s a lot, even though as David points out, Prof still doesn’t have the whole story. Megan’s not someone who has a history of violence like other epics, though Prof definitely strikes me as the sort of person that once you break the trust, it’s pretty hard to regain. And yet it feels too much like he wants a reason to distrust her, and isn’t really giving her a fair shake. Arguably David is doing the same thing, he is too trusting, but Megan’s actions are questionable enough for me to at least consider what she is saying (Read: I think that while Megan is still questionable, Prof & co too easily write her off) On the subject of Sam, I find it strange that David hasn’t really asked her about it– and she hasn’t really denied that she did it. It’s definitely strange, but I feel like there is probably more to it than we know.

While I feel like the sort of endgame-setup-plot twist for this book is good, it’s also strangely frustrating. It took over 300 pages for the book to really get interesting (first fight scene notwithstanding) and around 25 pages after that for the David-is-a-traitor plot to kick in. They are both good concepts, but I don’t know if they are set up or executed the best. In fact, while David and Prof have a pretty good scene, every other character gets the short end of the staff here and distrust David way too quickly. Not that it isn’t believable, since they don’t know him too well– but it still feels shallow. 

Like Val (who should be smart) thinks that Regalia somehow set up David, who has very clearly never left Newcago in his life, and literally had a corroborating story about steelheart from his childhood, to infiltrate the reckoners. It’s a huge leap in logic, and maybe she doesn’t know everything about David or she’s too emotional, but it still feels pretty jarring. Exel and Missy also are mad at him but it doesn’t really feel that bad because honestly i’m not that invested in either of them and Sanderson doesn’t spend time on actually delineating how they feel. At least at this point, it feels like a good concept that is rather poorly executed.

And then the prof (and Tia I guess) have the gall to be disappointed in David, even though their whole plan was pretty much setting David up for failure. Maybe this was a test, but it honestly seemed like David failing was something that they expected to happen. After everything they went through in the first book and in the year since then, it just makes me kind of angry. Like, if I were David, I would be pretty angry about everything. While David was not very subtle about still seeing Megan, he’s a teenager and Megan was a former member of their group, I don’t know– I understand why they are mad at him, but at the same time everything he did with Megan was in an attempt to undermine Regalia. Like it’s not as if he was helping supply Regalia weapons (If that was what happened it would have made these events more believable) They intentionally keep David in the dark about what actually happened with Sam, try to give him a chance to confess while making it pretty clear that no matter what Megan is still taboo, and David acts like a confused teenager keeping a secret because he’s dumb and doesn’t always make the right call? It’s not like they are unjustified, but they still used David and it makes their ostracisation of him just come off very poorly.

I suppose the last thing I want to talk about is Regalia and the actual Endgame here. I think the biggest thing for me right now, is despite everything, Regalia is still a huge enigma, and even though Tia and Prof knew her personally I feel like none of them are even close to cracking the puzzle that is her. Watch me be wrong, but I feel like David’s right and that all of the puzzle pieces haven’t really come together, which is why the fact that they are gearing up for the final phase against Regalia feels so… out of place. Compared to the previous book where they had already had a few significant hits on Steelheart, they have almost nothing on Regalia aside from a few of David’s efforts. The certainty that the reckoners operate with that they understand the situation feels a bit out of place, especially compared to Steelheart where the plan was very clearly delineated, and they had already gained a lot of information, while Babilar still feels off in a lot of ways. Everything they have learned at this point feels like it has brought more questions and very few answers.

Also, kind of random, but using the assumption that Regalia thinks David is compromised could kind of work. They could use that as part of a trap I think, but they trust him so little that they don’t even consider that– which I think is where a lot of my issue’s come from– despite being in the Reckoner’s for over a year, the fact that they disregard all of that over a genuinely trippy situation, I don’t know it just makes me mad at a lot of the characters. Like I get that Val is emotional because Sam died, but does it really seem that plausible that Regalia planted an unknown guy who didn’t even know how to swim, with a corroborating story of Steelheart into the reckoners? I mean, who knows if she knows the whole story, but it’s still a ridiculous accusation. I could go on, but I’m mad that the characters distrust David so easily, like if anything it almost feels forced. We also don’t really get anything from say Tia, maybe we will later but while i love the concept of David being thrown under the bus, I feel like the buildup to it could have been better, and if the execution of it could really have been improved. Anyways, I’m probably going to read part 4 tomorrow and we will see if any of my issues dissipate- I’ve heard this book has a good ending so we’ll see. If I’m going to make any predictions, right now I will say–

1. Sam was messing around with something he shouldn’t have and that’s why Megan went after him 2. Regalia is doing this elaborate plot to not only draw Prof out but to force him to use his powers and to succumb to their influence

À bientôt!

[rawiswhore]

Triple H, Shawn Michaels x Fem Reader- “Whipped Cream and Other Delights”

There needs to be more fanfics where the fem reader has a threesome with Triple H and Shawn Michaels, circa late 1997 and maybe even early 1998 too (the reason I say "maybe" is because Shawn started losing his looks in early 1998 when he was growing that facial hair).

Hell, how about fanfics where the fem reader has a threesome with Shawn and Triple H in 1997?

________________________________________________________________

It's late 1997, early December 1997 to be exact.

There's a new up and coming faction in the WWF known as DX, or D Generation X, made up of two troublemaking, potty mouthed brats, those two brats are Shawn Michaels and Triple H.

You're so happy that the two of them are friends with one another and now a WWF faction that's blowing up in popularity.

Why?

Not only are they sexy AF, but two sexy men who are becoming a popular faction in the WWF that will give the company increasing ratings= perfect threesome.

You've had a few threesomes with Shawn and Triple H this year, and tonight, you're going to have another threesome with them.

You were laying across the couch in the dressing room you share with those 2 hotties, you were completely naked.

Why would you be naked in December 1997 since it's getting cold?

You have an idea.

Both men are thinking you're crazy since you've taken your clothes off while winter is coming up, but again, there's a reason you're naked.

And not just naked, but you had a can of whipped cream sitting next to you on the coffee table next to the couch.

You had told the men previously why you're naked and pulled out a can of whipped cream out of the fridge.

You had a sexual fantasy lately involving these 2 men doing something to you, and they were down with that, as they'd say by next year.

You have such a beautiful body and they love whipped cream, they'd definitely love .

You grabbed the whipped cream off of the table and placed the nozzle in front of your foot.

Pressing on the can, you raised your hand up towards your knee, where whipped cream was falling from that can, from your foot all the way up to your knee.

Hmmm, should you smear this whipped cream all over your calf?

"Hey boys" you called out. "Should my hand smear this whipped cream on my calf?"

"If you want to" Triple H replied.

It's honestly a better idea, that way their tongues will travel and get all over your calves.

You put the palm of your hand on your whipped cream covered calf, where your palm rubbed that whipped cream up and down your calf, smearing that whipped cream on the front of your calf.

You took that palm to your other leg and smeared and smothered that whipped cream on the front of your calf, slathering it like it was sunscreen.

You also added some more whipped cream on the calve you were smothering, adding more whipped cream to this calve, where your hand, specifically your palm, rubbed this whipped cream up and down your lower leg, your calve especially, where it added more to your calve for these men to eat.

The whipped cream smothered on your calves looked like shaving cream, which hopefully doesn't disgust the two men in the room with you.

"Boys" you stated "Are you hungry?"

They turned their heads around, only to find you lying on the couch naked, holding a can of whipped cream in one hand and the lower half of your legs smothered in whipped cream, or what they hoped was whipped cream.

They also noticed the palm of one of your hands coated in whipped cream, as well as your fingers covered in white frothy cream.

"Is that whipped cream?" Shawn asked.

"What do you think it is?" you retorted.

"Looks like shaving cream" Shawn said.

"It isn't, trust me, just look at the can" you said, shaking the can slightly back and forth. "Now, are you guys hungry?"

You had an evil smile across your face, looking devilish.

Even though this made you seem a little crazy, you aren't, and it's a common thing for people to eat whipped cream or honey or chocolate off of people's bodies.

Hell, next year, in 1998, in a wrestling magazine, there was a Personality Profile for Val Venis, where they asked what his favorite food is. His favorite food? Whipped cream.

And Val Venis's gimmick was a porn star.

Of course, it isn't the man who plays Val's favorite food, but Stone Cold Steve Austin really isn't the trash talking redneck he's famous for playing on TV.

At least you aren't making Shawn and Triple H eat vomit or feces off of your body, that's really disgusting.

You're not that crazy.

Even they can't resist eating off of your body, and how can they not?

You do have a beautiful body they've kissed, licked and brushed their lips down and up many times, and you have beautiful legs.

Shawn and Triple H walked over to the couch you were sitting on; where you had two piles of whipped cream smothered on your calves for them to lick up.

It didn't matter what leg either man will lick on, both of your legs are the same.

It would be better if you laid down on a bed instead of a couch, that way Shawn or Triple H won't have to lean across the couch's arm and have to reach to lick one of your legs, but, whatevs.

Triple H then lowered himself down to the ground, squatting down on the ground on his knees, holding behind your calf, which didn't have any whipped cream smothered on it.

"Hey, could you sit straightly and not lay down on the couch?" Shawn asked you. "That way, I won't have to lean on the armchair and reach myself out to lick your legs"

"What's wrong with that?" you asked.

"It'll be difficult for me to try to reach and stretch my neck and head out to lick your legs" Shawn said.

With the way you're firing back at Shawn, Shawn thinks you're acting a little bitchy, and you are quite naughty, what with having orgies this summer with various wrestlers, Triple H and Shawn involved in those orgies.

You could respond back to Shawn asking him "well, could you try?", but since you sounded kind of bitchy to him before, you should listen to him.

You assembled yourself on the couch, straightening your body up, where instead of laying your body across the couch's cushions, you sat straight on top of one of the couch's cushions, like you're sitting in the passenger seat of a car or behind a desk at school.

Now, Shawn can lick one of your legs without having to try to stretch his neck out.

Triple H hasn't yet licked one of your legs.

Both of these aforementioned men's faces were in front of your legs, where they stuck their tongues out of their mouths, placing their tongues on the whipped cream smothered part of your calves.

Their tongues elevated up your calves, licking some of the whipped cream off of your calves and putting it in their mouths.

Before they could swallow that whipped cream, Triple H and Shawn's mouths enclosed the whipped cream in their mouths, breaking it down (much like that phrase in their D Generation X/DX entrance music) before they swallowed it so they won't choke on the whipped cream.

Feeling their tongues on your calves, instead of sexually arousing you, though it did, actually tickled your calves.

You couldn't help but giggle and snicker at them licking your calves.

"What are you laughing about?" Shawn asked, looking up at you, stopping eating your pussy when you giggled.

Triple H even paused at this.

"It tickles when you lick my legs!" you confessed "Or rather, my calves. But keep licking!"

Their tongues that licked up a dollop of whipped cream on your legs left an empty little line of your skin sandwiched with two smears of whipped cream on the sides, all thanks to them licking up some of the whipped cream.

Triple H was licking the left smear of whipped cream up your calf, where they dragged their tongues up to your knee, their tongues collecting and gathering up that whipped cream on their calves.

HHH was trying for his iconic big nose not to butt into your calf covered in whipped cream, he does have a big nose and the WWF knows that.

Once their tongues reached towards the top of your calves, where there was no whipped cream on your knees or thighs, their tongues tossed back that whipped cream into their throats, swallowing it down.

Speaking of which, you didn't really have any whipped cream smothered on your thighs, and you wonder whether or not if you should have whipped cream all over your thighs for them to lick up.

Their heads then went back to the bottom of your calves, where their tongues brushed up your calves on the only line of whipped cream up your calves.

Their heads elevated further and further up to your knees, only to stop once they reached your knees.

Their tongues licked up some of the whipped cream on your calves, collecting that whipped cream with their tongues, only to put that whipped cream into their mouths once they reached to your knees, flattening the whipped cream with their mouths and trying to not swallow the whipped cream yet, until they were satisfied with the right amount of whipped cream to be swallowed, and gulped that whipped cream down.

Hopefully they won't get sick from eating all that whipped cream!

Not to mention, when I said "put that whipped cream in their mouths", I don't mean it like Triple H puts whipped cream in Shawn's mouth and vice versa, though I bet you want this to happen!

Their tongues did a good job licking off the whipped cream on your calves, your calves now drenched and covered in saliva.

One of your hands had some whipped cream on your palm and fingers, though, it's not enough to smother your vagina in it.

You spread your legs out wider and wider, wide enough so you could see your pussy, though, is it necessary for you to spread your legs very wide so you could see your pussy?

Holding one palm of your hand out, specifically the one had had some whipped cream on your palm and fingers, you tipped the whipped cream can slightly towards your palm and pressed the can's trigger, where a dollop of whipped cream poured onto your palm.

You directed that whipped cream covered palm towards your pussy lips, where you smeared it all over your pussy flaps, all over your pink vagina, getting that whipped cream on your vagina and clitoris.

Your head was looking down at your hand rubbing your pussy, making sure you were rubbing your pink pussy in that white frothy whipped cream.

Thank goodness you were perfectly shaved down there and only had a little tuft of pubic hair above your vagina, kind of looking like Madonna's vagina during her "Sex" book, that way these two men luckily won't taste any pubic hair while they eat out your pussy!

Speaking of those two, Shawn and Triple H heard the can, or better yet, heard you spray that can, where their eyes looked at you spraying whipped cream on your pussy.

Triple H licked his lips, he definitely wants this, so does Shawn.

And these boys get to both eat out your pussy at the same time.

"Guys" you said, showing a naughty ear to ear smile on your face. "You guys both get to eat my pussy at the same time, it won't have to be Triple H eats my pussy while Shawn waits".

But...will that result in them fighting over who gets to eat your pussy first?

That's the issue with having threesomes.

And you can tell by Triple H's facial expression he wants to eat your twat out, and so does Shawn.

Though, they did wonder, why didn't you spray any whipped cream on your thighs, although, is it necessary to have whipped cream on top of your thighs?

Though, it would be sexy if the two of them did lick up a trail of whipped cream that went from your ankle up to your thighs.

After you had just announced to them that they'd both be eating your pussy out, these two men directed their heads and faces into your pussy, where their tongues snuck out of their mouths, landing on your whipped cream smothered cunt.

Triple H's head was above Shawn's head.

Triple H's tongue dragged up one of your pussy flaps, his tongue lapping up the whipped cream on your pussy.

His tongue carried and gathered the whipped cream off of your cunt, the tip of his tongue scooping up the whipped cream off of your pussy.

Meanwhile, Shawn was doing the same thing to your pussy, dragging the tip of his tongue up your pussy, collecting the whipped cream on your cunt with the tip of his tongue, only to insert that whipped cream in his mouth.

Once the whipped cream was in their mouths, the whipped cream went down their throats, only to now travel down into their stomachs and get digested.

Their tongues traveled all around your pussy, dragging their tongues all over your cunt, licking up the whipped cream on your cunt.

Triple H's tongue went across the top of your pussy, his tongue brushing across your clitoris.

His tongue tickled your clit when it brushed over it.

Shawn's face and head went back to the bottom of your pussy lips, where he raised his head up to the top of your pussy, dragging his tongue along with him.

His tongue licked the middle of your pussy, the whipped cream transferring from your pussy to his tongue.

His tongue quickly pulled back into his mouth, carrying and balancing the whipped cream on his tongue, and shut his mouth, his throat muscles gulping the whipped cream down.

Triple H's face then went down to the bottom of your cunt, where he dragged and trailed his tongue up your pussy, licking the whipped cream up your pussy.

His tongue brushed up your pussy, licking up the whipped cream off of your twat, the whipped cream vanishing off your pussy when his tongue brushed more and more up your cunt.

While their tongues might be licking up your pussy, it didn't feel enough like this would give you an orgasm.

Once Shawn reached the top of your pussy, he lowered his head down to the bottom of your cunt again, that goes for Triple H as well.

While they raised their heads up your pussy, dragging their tongues along, they were trying to eat up all the whipped cream off of your pussy, and not just that, but not try to bump their heads into one another while they ate your twat out.

While their tongues dragged up your pussy, their tongues tasted a mixture of whipped cream and your salty but sweet pussy juice. Not the best taste, but whatever.

Surprisingly, their hair didn't get caught in that whipped cream, which is a good thing, that would be gross.

Their tongues dragged and trailed up your pussy, and not just that, but their tongues also zigzagged all over your pussy, collecting that whipped cream off of your cunt, cleaning your cunt with their tongues and eventually swallowing that frothy white substance.

Their tongues were wetting and drenching your pussy in their saliva, trying to get all the whipped cream off of your cunt.

Shawn and Triple H's eyes were also open while they were eating out your pussy and licking the whipped cream off of your cunt, trying to make sure their tongues got all of the whipped cream off of your pussy.

And speaking of which, even though you had two men giving cunnilingus to you down there, your head was bowed down, looking at the space Shawn and Triple H were licking in between your legs, looking at your pussy to see if there was still any whipped cream left there.

While you were resting your head your head back on top of the couch, your head moved a few inches off of the top of the couch to look down at your pussy, just to see if there's still any whipped cream left on your pussy.

Your head then rested back on the couch, all while your head was turned down a bit, your eyes looking down at the two men in between your legs eating you out.

Speaking of those two men, their tongues trailed all over your pussy, lapping up that whipped cream off of your pussy, all until your pussy was clean.

You waited until there seemingly was no more whipped cream on your cunt.

You hope that you don't get any whipped cream inside your pussy, eeeech.

Surprisingly, even though you did have two men eating and licking your pussy, while this did warm your skin a bit and even tickled and felt good on your pussy, it didn't feel good enough to have an orgasm over.

Shawn and Triple H probably were both wondering why you aren't moaning over them eating out your twat.

According to Shawn and Triple H's eyes,  they both felt like they've gotten all the whipped cream off of your pussy.

"Hey!" Triple H stated, swatting your calf with his hand. "We've eaten all the whipped cream off of your pussy"

"Why didn't you moan when we ate your pussy out?" Shawn asked you.

"Because your tongues didn't mostly play with my clit, that's why" you answered.

Your head looked down at your pussy, only to see your twat now covered in saliva.

Y'know, if you still have some whipped cream on your pussy, you can wash it off in the shower.

You took the whipped cream you had in one hand and directed it towards your stomach, where you sprayed a line of whipped cream from above your line of pubic hair to your belly button.

Thankfully you don't have any of that nasty body hair below your belly button, you wax and shave that stuff up when it appears!

Triple H and Shawn Michaels' heads looked up once they heard that can spray, looking up at your hand drawing a line of whipped cream up for them to eat.

"Boys" you said "You both get to eat this line of whipped cream on my stomach!"

You pointed towards that line of whipped cream below your navel.

The two of them both licked their lips at this, though, will they argue over eating that line of whipped cream below your stomach?

Or will Shawn get a line of whipped cream and so will Triple H?

"Do we both lick the whipped cream off of you at the same time?" Triple H asked "I'm afraid my head will bump into Shawn's and...vice versa"

Not to mention, not to sound homophobic, but what if Shawn and Triple H are both trying to lap up that whipped cream together and their tongues touch one another?

That was also a slight worry when they were eating out your twat.

Then again, Shawn has been jeered with chants of "Shawn is gay! and even kissed Triple H on the mouth at one point, and of course, next year, Triple H would say "I'm many things that are bi, but lingual isn't one of them!"

They shouldn't be homophobic, and neither should you, which you aren't.

"One person's head will be over another person's head" you answered "Like how the two of you were when you ate my pussy out"

Shawn probably would love to lick the whipped cream line that reached your navel, so would Triple H, but, it is what it is.

Shawn and Triple H both raised their heads towards above your pussy hair, where some of your pubic hair tickled on their skin.

Triple H was a few inches above Shawn Michaels on that whipped cream line.

They placed their tongues on that whipped cream, where they dragged their tongues up that whipped cream line below your navel, pulling it into their mouths and gulping it down.

Their tongues brushed below your navel, and while there was a thick dollop of whipped cream that reached your belly button, you could feel their tongues brush on your skin.

You giggled like a little teenybopper school girl when their tongues brushed up and nudged against your skin.

Instead of feeling good, which it did though, it also felt ticklish.

This made you giggle instead of orgasm.

Though, their tongues brushing up your skin did send tingles through your body and skin, especially considering you were naked in December.

They both tried licking all of that whipped cream off of your navel, their tongues making the line of whipped cream disappear, only to be replaced with their saliva.

And successfully, they did make that whipped cream disappear all by licking it off.

You looked down at these two men, all you could see below you was some long, flowing blond hair cascading down the top of someone's head, as well as someone else with long flowing chestnut brown hair cascading down the top of his head.

And thank goodness no one is interrupting you in your room, you have a "do not disturb" sign hanging on the doorknob outside.

Triple H took a look at the line of whipped cream that had reached your belly button, only to find some shiny saliva up your belly button, not whipped cream.

Triple H's hand swatted Shawn's shoulder, where Shawn suddenly paused from licking your stomach, looking up at Triple H.

Triple H was going to ask Shawn if he's gotten all the whipped cream off of below your navel, but when Shawn raised his head up from licking the whipped cream off of your skin, Triple H saw where Shawn had licked.

There was seemingly no more whipped cream on your stomach, but instead, Shawn's saliva.

"Why did you pat my shoulder?" Shawn asked.

"I wanted to ask if you were done licking all the whipped cream off of her" Triple H answered "But I don't need to answer any more, now that you've raised your head"

You heard Shawn and Triple H's conversation, and smiled at them finishing licking the whipped cream off of your navel.

"Move out of the way, please" you ordered to Triple H, patting him a few times on the shoulder. "I'm gonna make a new line of whipped cream!"

Triple H and Shawn could probably guess what the new line of whipped cream is...

Triple H moved his head a few inches out of the way

You put the whipped cream above your belly button this time, where, while pressing the button on the can, sprayed a line of whipped cream all the way up to the middle of your breasts.

Yup, that's where Shawn and Trips expected the new line to be at.

Shawn and Triple H's eyes looked at the new spot of whipped cream up your torso.

And they'll both probably have to do the same thing, where one man is above another man and is licking the whipped cream off of you.

"Do we have to do the same thing we do with your pussy and below your belly button?" Shawn asked. "Where Triple H has his head above mine and whatnot?"

"Yes" you replied. "Actually, could I switch positions on the couch? That way, one of you won't have to have your head above someone else's head while you lick the whipped cream off of me, though, someone will have to snuggle next to me to lick the whipped cream off my torso"

"Well, if you want" Triple H replied.

Not to mention, their tongues might meet if they lick the whipped cream off of you, but, no homophobia...

Besides, Shawn is someone who struts in the ring wearing tights with hearts on them, plays a male stripper and has kissed Triple H on the mouth before.

Plus, some people could say Triple H and Shawn have some homoerotic tendencies with DX/D Generation X...

You decided to switch positions anyway, that way both men can lick up above your belly button towards the middle of your tits.

You then changed the position you were sitting in, where now, instead of sitting up straight on the couch, you lowered your back and head on the couch, laying your whole body, pulling your legs to lay across the couch with you, across the couch's cushions.

It would be even better if you were laying in a bed and not on a couch so they wouldn't have to have one head above someone else's head, but, whatevs.

While you changed positions, you were trying your best to balance the whipped cream on your body, so that way it won't fall off.

"Shawn" you said "Y'wanna snuggle next to me on the couch?"

Shawn would love to, so would Triple H, maybe...

"I'd love to" Shawn replied, smiling.

He crawled over your legs and snuggled in the crook right next to you on the couch, where you wrapped one of your arms around him.

You also moved yourself a few inches away from him while lying across the couch, that way he can have more room.

"Alright boys" you said. "Lick up!"

Triple H's face pulled closer towards above your belly button, where he stuck his tongue out more and more, until his tongue touched the whipped cream.

He dragged his tongue up that line of whipped cream up your torso, the tip of his tongue collecting the whipped cream off of your torso.

The tip of his tongue collected that whipped cream, holding it on his tongue, the tip of his tongue hovering over the whipped cream on his tongue like it was a cave or a tent.

He pulled his tongue into his mouth, where his tongue still held onto that whipped cream when it crawled back into his mouth.

Once his tongue was in his mouth, the tip of his tongue uncurled, no longer curling it to hold the whipped cream.

Though, was this necessary to curl the tip of his tongue to hold the whipped cream?

His mouth took some time to break down the whipped cream, until he swallowed the whipped cream.

Meanwhile, Shawn's head got closer and closer to your torso; the space below your breasts and above your navel, stretching his neck out.

He actually scooted his body a few inches farther across the couch, that way, his head can be right next to the line of whipped cream.

Once his head was next to that whipped cream line, his tongue crawled out of his mouth, landing on that whipped cream line.

He dragged his tongue up that whipped cream line, the whipped cream transferred from your skin to his tongue.

He pulled his tongue back into his mouth, balancing the whipped cream on top of his tongue, where he closed his mouth, his tongue dissolving that whipped cream and swallowing it.

When they dragged their tongues up your skin, your neck and back arched a few inches up from the couch's cushions, your head arched back as well, your eyelids shutting your eyes and bottom mouth opening agape.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh, yeaaaaaaaaaaaaah" you moaned while they licked you.

It felt so good to have them lick your skin, however, it also tickled you a bit when their tongues licked your skin.

Cold tingles were traveling through all parts of your body, especially your nipples, while they did this.

Their tongues tried their best to clean the whipped cream off your body, and they were doing a good job.

Their tongues were replacing that whipped cream up your body with their saliva.

While you were moaning as they licked you, their minds were thinking, Yes, she's finally moaning!

Their tongues dragged up to your chest, licking up the whipped cream and putting it in their mouths, swallowing that whipped cream.

Shawn decided to change something a bit while he was hovering over one of your tits.

He dragged his ass across the couch's cushions, where he lifted one of his legs over your legs, then sat on top of you, almost straddling your lap, although, he wasn't really straddling your lap, more like straddling your knees.

This is a change of pace.

While he was sitting on top of your knees, he made his head as well as some of the upper part of his body (i.e. his neck and torso) closer and closer into your chest.

Once he lowered himself, his torso was touching your stomach, he basically was lying on top of you, but he tried his best not to crush you with his weight while being on top of you.

When he was lying on top of you, his tongue crept out of his mouth, where his tongue crawled up the trail of whipped cream that went up to the middle of your tits, or rather, where the trail of whipped cream was, considering Triple H and Shawn both licked that trail up.

His head and face got further and further to the middle of your tits when his tongue elevated up your torso, the middle of your torso specifically.

Having such a sexy boy be on top of you as well as an equally sexy WWF wrestler next to you had blood travelling into your clitoris, filling your clit up.

Hopefully, while Shawn's licking that path of whipped cream up your torso, Triple H isn't getting angry or jealous of Shawn licking that trail of whipped cream!

While Shawn's tongue was licking all the way up to the middle of your tits, his arms were bent by the elbows on opposite sides of you, one of his palms on the couch's cushion while the other palm was below the cushions, his arms looking like he was doing pushups.

While Shawn was licking what was once that trail of whipped cream from your navel to the middle of your tits, he tried his best not to press his torso onto your torso, not just because he didn't want to crush you since he' s heavier than you, but also so he won't get any whipped cream on his torso.

You'll get to something like that later on in this fanfic.

The whipped cream that was formally on your torso was disappearing, courtesy of Triple H and Shawn's tongues licking it up.

Speaking of Triple H, he was watching Shawn lick that trail of whipped cream up your body, and surprisingly, he wasn't jealous.

Guess because Triple H was the first to lick that trail of whipped cream and Shawn followed him.

Shawn's tongue felt so good on your skin, enough to give you an orgasm, however, you lifted your head off of one of the couch's cushions, opening your eyes and looking down at your chest, only to find the Heartbreak Kid laying on top of you, licking some of the trail of whipped cream that went from your navel to the middle of your breasts.

"Hey Shawn" you said to him.

"Hmmmmmmmmm?" he asked, looking up at you.

"Is there any whipped cream from my belly button up to the middle of my tits?" you asked him.

Shawn lifted his torso and head a few inches up from your torso, where he looked down at your torso.

There really wasn't seemingly any more whipped cream in the middle of your torso, just his saliva, the saliva shining on your torso underneath the lights on the ceiling.

Some of the whipped cream on your torso transferred onto Shawn's chest hairs, but thankfully, you won't lick that, since that's disgusting.

You're not that nasty.

"No" was his response from his mouth.

Yes, you thought, sighing in relief.

You can guess which licking comes next, and this time, Shawn and Triple H don't share one thing...

You straightened the upper part of your body (i.e. your head and torso) up from the end of the couch, holding your head and torso up straight.

You also directed your legs to not lay across the couch's cushions, but sit how people normally sit on the couch, your calves dangling over the couch's cushions, the back of your knees touching the couch's cushions.

One of your hands holding that whipped cream can directed that whipped cream can towards one of your breasts, where you pressed on the can's , the can releasing a dollop of whipped cream on the skin of your left tit.

You lifted your finger off of what you use to press to squeeze more whipped cream from the can, where the palm of your other hand sat on your left breast with a blob of whipped cream on it, squashing that dollop of whipped cream into a flat little pile.

Your palm roamed all over your breast, smearing that whipped cream all over your tit, not just on the skin part, but on your areola and nipple, trying to get the whipped cream all over your left tit.

You dragged your palm all over your tit, smearing and slathering that whipped cream around in a circle as you directed the palm of your hand to smother your breast in whipped cream.

Though, is this necessary to do, considering you could just "smoosh" the dollop of whipped cream with the palm of your hand and the whipped cream will get all over your breast?

Whatever.

Your eyes were looking down at your tit you were smothering in whipped cream, looking to make sure your tit is completely covered in whipped cream.

Once you felt like you smeared your breast in enough whipped cream, you directed your palm and fingers covered in whipped cream towards your other breast, which doesn't have any whipped cream on it.

Instead of spraying another dollop of whipped cream on your other breast, you landed your whipped cream smothered palm on your other tit, where your rubbed that whipped cream up and down your tit, smothering your breast, nipple and areola in whipped cream, getting every space of skin smeared in whipped cream.

Although, your other tit needs more whipped cream on it so it could be covered even more in that frothy white substance.

You lifted your hand currently smearing whipped cream on your tit off of your breast for a few seconds, where you directed your hand holding that whipped cream can on your breast you're currently rubbing.

You squeezed a new dollop of whipped cream on your tit.

You placed the whipped cream can on the table next to you and let your palm covered in whipped cream flatten that whipped cream dollop on your tit, where you rubbed and smeared that new whipped cream pile on your breast in a circle, getting a new coat of whipped cream on your tit.

Though, hopefully, neither men will get sick from eating all that whipped cream.

Not to mention, you're worried they'll ruin their athletic, beautiful figures eating all that calorie infested whipped cream, so you may as well stop smearing your tits in whipped cream.

You lifted your hand off of your breast you were rubbing in whipped cream, where it looked like you had enough whipped cream on this tit and you were satisfied with the results.

"Alright, boys" you announced "Now you guys don't have to share having one line of whipped cream, you both have two tits to lick up. Bon appetit!"

Meanwhile, while you were rubbing your tits in whipped cream, Triple H and Shawn were watching you smear your boobs in whipped cream.

They were both getting horny watching you rub your tits in whipped cream, the roofs of their mouths dripping in saliva, licking their lips and cocks being filled up with blood, making their cocks stand up as this happened.

Triple H was really getting horny watching this considering he loves women's tits, just look at the amount of women in the audience he asked to flash their tata's to him when he was in DX/D Generation X by next year.

They'd love to see you rub your tits in their cum, but whipped cream is sexy too.

By the looks on their faces and them licking their lips, they definitely couldn't wait to lick up that whipped cream off of your breasts, even before you announced they can lick that whipped cream off your boobs.

The two of them both pulled their faces into your breasts, where Triple H and Shawn opened their mouths as they got closer to your nipples, only to wrap their mouths around your nipples.

They could both see your nipples peeking out of the whipped cream smears, much like you could kind of see Sable's nipples poking out of her painted hand prints on her tits.

Once their mouths were wrapping your nipples, they began sucking your nipples a bit, making them feel good.

Even though this felt wonderful, is it necessary for them to suck your nipples?

You rubbed whipped cream all over your tits for them to lick the whipped cream off of them, not suck your nipples.

Should you tell them to stop sucking your tits?

"Boys, boys, gentlemen!" you exclaimed.

Triple H and Shawn's eyes looked up at your face, your nipples still in their mouths.

"Even though it feels so good when men suck my nipples and I don't mean to be rude" you confessed "But I smeared whipped cream on my tits so you guys can lick it up, not suck my nipples"

"Can't we do both?" Triple H asked, your nipple still in his mouth. "Suck your nipples while we lick the whipped cream off your tits?"

"I guess you guys could do this" you answered, shrugging your shoulders.

After you said that, their eyes went back to looking down at your tits, where they began sucking your nipples.

While their mouths were sucking your nipples, they basically were sucking off the whipped cream that smothered your nipples and areoas, that whipped cream transferring into their mouths, where the two men gulped down

Their mouths sucking your nipples were helping to clean off both your nipples and areolas.

Speaking of areolas, Shawn's tongue left his mouth, only to land under your nipple and at the bottom of your areola.

He dragged the tip of his tongue up the left side on your areola, to the top of your areola, then down to the right side of your areola.

The tip of his tongue basically ran over your nipple and on top of your areola, like hands on a clock.

Once his tongue had reached the bottom of your areola, he ran the tip of his tongue on your areola over and over again in circles.

He knows how much you love it when men rub, lick and suck your areolas.

Your head tilted back, eyes had rolled in the back of your head while your eyelids shut and shielded your eyes, and the bottom of your mouth had dropped, showing a bit of your upper teeth.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, yeaaaaaaaaaaaah" you moaned.

You could feel it was Shawn licking your nipple like this, not Triple H.

Shawn's tongue was licking up the whipped cream off of your areola, though, he should be licking the whipped cream off of your tits, not just licking your areola to make you feel good.

Meanwhile, Triple H was basically kissing and making out with your nipple like he's kissing your lips, his lips attaching then detaching only to attach again over and over again.

"Ohhhhhhhhh, yessssssssssss boysssssssssss" you moaned, dragging your words out, not in an annoying way, but in a sexy way. "This feels soooooooooooooooooooo gooooooooooooooooooooooood".

Speaking of sexy, the way Shawn's licking your areola in circles over and over, and you haven't moaned out "ohhhhhhhhhhh, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Shawn!" like those women at the beginning of his entrance theme?

Although, you have done that before while having sex with Shawn.

Even though this feels good with them licking and sucking your nipples and areolas, they need to be licking off the whipped cream on your boobs, not just sucking and licking your nipples!

Triple H suddenly stopped kissing your nipple like it was your lips, where instead, he proceeded sucking your nipple, but that wasn't the only thing he did.

His tongue lolled out of his mouth, sprawling down the bottom of one of your tits, below your nipple.

His tongue dragged up to your areola again, lifting and carrying the whipped cream on top of the tip of his tongue while he dragged his tongue up your breast back to your areola.

Once his tongue had reached your areola, he pulled his tongue into his mouth and closed his mouth, his tongue trying to balance the whipped cream on top of his tongue, where he put the top of his tongue on the roof of his mouth, gulping that whipped cream down.

In other words, he licked that whipped cream below your nipple and swallowed it.

His tongue then snuck out of his mouth, where his tongue stretched out below your areola, this time on the left side of the trail of your skin that was previously covered in whipped cream he licked up.

His tongue reached out and elevated up to your areola, his tongue dragging and scooping up that whipped cream up to your areola.

Once his tongue reached your areola, his tongue crawled back into his mouth, where he shut his lips, not letting his tongue crawl out of his mouth again, until it was time again, where he raised his tongue to the roof of his mouth, the combo of the roof of his mouth and his tongue making the whipped cream sprawl out even more, only to swallow the whipped cream.

Shawn, meanwhile, his tongue was getting tired from licking your areola over and over again, and plus, he should be licking the whipped cream off of your tits, not sucking your nipples, that goes for Triple H, too.

His lips are very flexible and stretchy, so his upper lips stretched up towards the top of your breast, trying to reach to the top of your breast, where there was whipped cream there.

Surprisingly, his upper lips can reach up towards the top of your breast, which is wonderful.

Once his upper lip was towards the top of your breast, his upper lip brushed down to your nipple he was sucking on, his upper lip dragging the whipped cream on the top of your breast all the way down to your nipple.

You could feel his upper lip drag down the top of your breast towards your areola.

Once his upper lip reached your nipple, he paused there, where he enclosed your nipple with his mouth, his upper lift shielding that whipped cream, where his mouth sucked the whipped cream into his mouth and swallowed it.

Shawn could see Triple H's tongue licking up the whipped cream below your nipple all while still having your nipple in Trips' mouth, and Shawn decided to do what HHH is doing.

Speaking of Triple H, he was getting a bit bored of sucking and kissing your nipple, plus, he's supposed to be licking the whipped cream off of your tits, not sucking your nipple.

Your nipple had left his mouth, but your tit was still in front of his face.

He put his tongue on your whipped cream covered breast, specifically on an area of your breast covered in whipped cream, this area the left part of your breast, where he dragged his tongue across the top of your whipped cream smothered tit, his tongue getting colored in white whipped cream.

More of your skin was being exposed while he dragged his tongue across the top of your breast, thanks to his tongue licking the whipped cream off your tit.

Once he felt like he got enough whipped cream on top of his tongue, he paused at licking the whipped cream off of your tit, only for his tongue to crawl back into his mouth, balancing that whipped cream on top of his tongue and shutting his mouth once his tongue crawled back into his mouth.

Since you guys don't want to probably hear about him breaking down whipped cream in his mouth, his mouth broke down the whipped cream until it was enough to swallow, and gulped it all down.

Shawn, however, his tongue hung out of his mouth, hanging down below your nipple, where his tongue dragged up to your nipple, scooping up the whipped cream below your nipple with his tongue.

Once his tongue reached towards your nipple he was previously sucking on, his tongue snuck back into his mouth, his lips shutting instantly once his tongue was in his mouth, and his mouth proceeded to break down that whipped cream and swallow it.

It's getting late, and Shawn, Triple H and you have another wrestling show to do, so he (and Triple H, too, as well as you) shouldn't be wasting time.

Triple H's tongue traveled all across the skin on your breast, licking up and dragging his tongue, collecting whipped cream with his tongue and swallowing it.

Shawn's tongue did the same thing, his tongue zigzagging down and across your tit, more of your skin being exposed thanks to his tongue dragging down your tit, licking up that whipped cream and swallowing it.

Them licking the skin parts of your breasts honestly doesn't feel as good as it does when they lick around your areolas, but at least they're licking up the whipped cream off of your tits.

Their tongues crawled into their mouths once they felt like they've licked enough whipped cream off of your tits, only to swallow it all down.

Your eyes looked down at Shawn and Trips licking that whipped cream off of your tits, their tongues travelling all over your tits, licking off that whipped cream.

They're doing a good job.

Triple H and Shawn were also keeping an eye on all the whipped cream they were licking off of your breasts, making sure they were getting all the whipped cream off of your tits, not missing a spot.

They were probably not getting all of the whipped cream off of their tits, but they were trying their best to do it.

Pretty soon, your tits were now slathered in their saliva instead of whipped cream, your tits looking shiny from being under those buzzing lights on the ceiling.

And not just that, but after dragging their tongues all over your breasts and lapping up that whipped cream, it looks like they're finished!

But hopefully they don't get sick from eating all that whipped cream.

You smiled once they were finished from licking up all that whipped cream, but it wasn't over yet, oh no.

"Is it over yet?" Triple H asked you. "Licking up all that whipped cream on your body"

"Not yet" you answered, a devilish grin on your face.

You still had some whipped cream on your palm and fingers, and you put that hand smothered in whipped cream above your cleavage, where you dragged your fingers and palm up to your chin, slathering whipped cream on the middle of your neck and below your chin.

"Are you guys getting sick of me slathering whipped cream on me?" you asked them. "Not just sick as in tired, but sick as in, throwing up sick".

"Not really, no" Shawn responded.

Thank God, you thought.

"Should I spray some more whipped cream on my neck?" you asked them.

"Nah" Triple H replied.

"You know the drill" you purred to them, a naughty smile and look on their face.

"Well, before we lick that whipped cream" Triple H said, pointing to the middle of your neck "Should I lick the left side of that whipped cream trail and Shawn the right side, and Shawn will go after me?"

"Do whatever you want" you responded. "What about you, Shawn?"

"Is that can halfway empty?" Shawn asked.

"A little, yeah" you replied. "But not too much, really".

Triple H shrugged his shoulders.

Triple H went first, where his face pulled towards the top of your cleavage, where the line and trail of whipped cream started, placing his tongue at the start of the line.

He dragged and brushed his tongue all the way up to your chin, where he licked up that line of whipped cream in the middle of your neck and under your chin.

It felt really good when Triple H's tongue brushed in the middle of your neck, your head tilted back, almost like you were having an orgasm.

The whipped cream was disappearing and vanishing once he licked that trail of whipped cream from the top of your cleavage to the bottom of your chin, being replaced with his saliva.

Wonder if this space you smeared whipped cream on will still taste like whipped cream, even if Triple H licked it off?

Shawn noticed the whipped cream had disappeared off of your neck and chin.

Your hand still had a little bit of whipped cream, but not a lot.

"Do I still have any whipped cream on my neck?" you asked Triple H, pointing to your neck.

"Not really, no" he replied.

Guess you'll need to put some more whipped cream there, as well as your cleavage and below your chin.

You picked the whipped cream can from the table, wrapping your fingers around the cold can and put the nozzle above your chest, where you sprayed a straight line from your cleavage up to the middle of your neck and below your chin.

Shawn's mouth had a smile growing across the bottom of his face, his mouth stretching in an ear to ear smile seeing that whipped cream land above your cleavage and the middle of your neck.

Not to mention...

"This whipped cream is for Shawn to lick, not you" you said to Triple H "Sorry, but you already licked some whipped cream".

Though Triple H can understand that.

Shawn's face then pulled towards above your cleavage, where he placed his tongue where the whipped cream trail had started.

His tongue dragged up that whipped cream line that went above your cleavage to below your chin, trying to get that whipped cream trail in his mouth.

Some of the whipped cream was getting and falling in his mouth, some of it fell down his throat, only for him to gulp the whipped cream down when it got down his throat.

He closed his mouth when some of the whipped cream fell in his mouth, only to pause from licking that whipped cream trail up your neck so his mouth could break apart the whipped cream in his mouth for him to swallow.

His tongue was smearing that whipped cream above your cleavage, but maybe Triple H can lick that area too.

After Shawn swallowed some of that whipped cream, he dragged his tongue up the middle of your neck, smearing the whipped cream on the middle of your neck and then, eventually, below your chin.

The whipped cream went from looking like frosting on a cake to looking like a white cake smear.

His tongue was trying to get that whipped cream in his mouth, only for him to close his

Triple H was watching Shawn lick that whipped cream trail, and HHH saw some of that whipped cream smeared above your cleavage to below your chin.

Wonder if he should lick that area?

"There's some whipped cream smeared above your tits" Triple H said. "Should I lick that area or is that for Shawn to lick up?"

"It's for Shawn" you replied "You already had a turn. Although, it would be wonderful if you licked some of the whipped cream smear on me right now, like how you mentioned Shawn licks me then you go after him and lick me".

A smile broke across Triple H's mouth, he definitely was excited about this.

"Should I go next?" Triple H asked.

"No, this smear is for Shawn" you replied, pointing to the whipped cream smear above your tits. "But you can have a lick after Shawn", referring to the smear above your tits.

Shawn's head then moved right back above your cleavage, where he put his tongue at the starting line of the smear trail of whipped cream.

He dragged his tongue up that smear of whipped cream, the top of his tongue getting coated in white whipped cream.

Luckily, the whipped cream wasn't falling and spilling into his mouth, but instead just coloring his tongue white.

His tongue dragged up the middle of your neck and below your chin, licking that white whipped cream.

"Hey Shawn" Triple H said. "Can I lick that smear after you?"

"Yeah" he replied, his head turning at Triple H when Trips said his name.

Shawn moved himself out of the way a bit so Triple H could have a lick of that former smear of whipped cream.

Triple H's face got close above your tits, where he placed his tongue on where the whipped cream smear was.

There was still a bit of whipped cream smeared from above your breasts to beneath your chin.

Triple H's tongue dragged up that smear of whipped cream, where his head and tongue elevated more and more up to your collarbone, then to the middle of your neck and beneath your chin.

Y'know, you would love it if both men licked your neck completely covered in whipped cream, but you'd look like a guy shaving his beard and neck.

Some of the whipped cream was disappearing off your skin when Triple H licked it off of you, but there was still a bit left.

When Triple H's tongue brushed up your neck, Shawn's head got close to above your tits, where he put his tongue on that vanishing whipped cream smear.

Shawn's tongue dragged up that whipped cream smear, his head elevating more and more up to your neck, until he paused at the middle of your neck, that way he won't bump into Triple H.

This is definitely what you want, have one guy lick your body while another guy follows and licks your body.

Triple H could feel Shawn beneath him, and Triple H pulled his face away from your chin.

Now, Triple H could see in front of him was the middle of your neck and above your tits looking shiny, thanks to his saliva (and Shawn's saliva, too, for that matter!).

But you still weren't finished.

"Guys" you announced. "I'm not done yet.  Since you guys are close to my head, where's the next place for the whipped cream?"

Shawn pulled his head away from beneath your chin.

Hmmmmm, what is the next place for whipped cream?

Though it's obvious what the answer will be.

"Your lips?" Triple H asked.

"No, my forehead" you joked, saying that deadpan. "Of course my lips!"

Triple H and Shawn both got a chuckle out of that.

"You both get to kiss my lips" you said. "But while one guy kisses my lips, the other guy does something else. Since my hand has whipped cream on it, one guy gets to lick and suck this whipped cream off of me".

They're definitely down for that.

"Who wants to go first?" you asked these two men.

"I'll go first!" Triple H announced.

You put one your index fingers that had whipped cream at the tip of your finger to your lips, where you smeared some whipped cream across your bottom and top lips like it was lip balm.

Hopefully Triple H can taste the whipped cream on your lips.

Triple H pulled his face into your face, where his lips attached to your lips immediately, your eyelids shutting your eyes, his eyelids shutting once his face pulled into yours.

He tasted your whipped cream smothered lips, yummy.

Meanwhile, your hand that didn't have any whipped cream on it directed behind his head, where your fingers wove and combed through his blond locks.

Your lips and his lips broke apart, making lip smacking sounds when they parted, only to join again, then detach, then join again, yadda yadda yadda.

The whipped cream smeared on your lips transferred to his lips.

While the two of you were making out, Triple H's tongue crept out of his mouth, the tip of his tongue placed on the left side of your upper lip.

He dragged the tip of his tongue across your upper lip, his tongue tasting your whipped cream flavored lips.

You felt the tip of his tongue run across your upper lip.

Oh, so you wanna play that way, eh?

Your tongue snuck out of your mouth, where you placed your tongue on his upper lip, dragging the tip of your tongue across his upper lip.

The tip of your tongue rolled across his upper lip, touching and collecting the whipped cream, only for your tongue to crawl back into your mouth.

But don't worry, your tongue will be back on his lips again.

He felt your tongue on his upper lip and got the memo.

Meanwhile, Shawn lowered his body down to your palm that was smothered in some whipped cream, crouching himself down to the floor.

He put your index finger in his mouth, where he began sucking your index finger, your index finger bobbing up and down in his mouth.

His mouth sucked off that finger, getting rid of the whipped cream off of it, replacing it with his saliva.

When your index finger was clean, he moved onto your middle finger.

He opened his mouth and your middle finger entered his mouth, where he closed his mouth at the bottom of your middle finger.

This time, he was doing something different to one of your fingers.

His mouth was brushing down and across your middle finger, your middle finger leaving his mouth, now covered in saliva instead of whipped cream.

Shawn's mouth had sucked off the whipped cream off of your middle finger, and he's gonna do that even more to your other fingers.

While you and Triple H were making out, your tongue and his tongue collided, bumped and touched with one another, almost French kissing.

You wanted to do this to him, and I'm sure he wants to do that too.

Your tongue toppled on his tongue, where it dragged across his tongue, only to crawl under his tongue, trying to seduce him into French kissing you.

He could feel your tongue trying to seduce and entice his tongue.

Meanwhile, Shawn had already sucked and cleaned your fingers, this time, he was dragging his tongue up your palm, his tongue cleaning off your palm and getting that whipped cream in his mouth.

His tongue traveled across your palm, zigzagging across your palm, cleaning it off, trying to make sure there was no more whipped cream on your palm or your fingers.

Soon, you and Triple H were French kissing each other, and not just that, but your tongue was trailing on his bottom lip, cleaning his lower and upper lip.

Some of the whipped cream on his lips was disappearing courtesy of your tongue.

Shawn's eyes were taking a look at your palm while he licked your palm, and more and more of that whipped cream was disappearing, thanks to his tongue.

He then tapped your thigh when he was finished.

Your face looked down at him looking at you, breaking the kiss with you and Triple H.

"I'm done licking your hand" Shawn said.

You raised your hand he had licked and sucked, your palm and fingers drenched in his saliva and seemingly no more whipped cream.

"Guess it's Shawn turn to make out with me" you said, "You can maybe lick off any places of whipped cream on my body if it's still there".

But sadly, you didn't have any whipped cream on your lips anymore.

Not a problem.

You picked up that whipped cream can and held it to your lips, where you pressed and a new blob of whipped cream got on your lower lip.

You smacked your lips together, pressing your bottom lip with your top lip.

Triple H now had some pretty messy hair while you ran your fingers through his long blond locks.

HHH hopped off of your lap, where Shawn raised himself more and more up to your head, until his head was in front of yours.

You put one hand behind Shawn's head, where your fingers wove through his long brown hair, and pulled him into your face.

His lips landed on your lips, his lips now have frothy white whipped cream on them.

He tasted your lips smothered in whipped cream.

Wonder if he saw what you and Triple H were doing while Shawn was busy licking your hand?

Speaking of Triple H, his eyes looked down and observed your body to see if there's any whipped cream.

Nope.

"No whipped cream" Triple H said.

Really? you thought.

Hmmmmm, what can Triple H do? Jerk off to you making out with Shawn?

And speaking of Shawn, you dragged the tip of your tongue across Shawn's lips, hoping he'd get this message.

You want him to do this same thing to you, drag the tip of his tongue on your lips.

He felt you do this to him, sometimes your tongue even got back into your mouth, only just to swallow some whipped cream.

Suddenly, Shawn's tongue left his mouth, only for the tip of his tongue to trail across your upper lip, his taste buds tasting whipped cream.

Like your tongue, his tongue also crawled back into his mouth, his tongue trying to balance and carry that whipped cream on his tongue, only for him to swallow that whipped cream down.

His tongue also brushed on your lower lip, collecting and cleaning that whipped cream on your lower lip and putting his tongue in his mouth, swallowing that whipped cream.

The two of yours tongues started knocking and bumping into each other, almost French kissing each other.

While the two of yours tongues were cleaning the whipped cream off of each others lips, your tongue tried giving Shawn's tongue a few licks, trying to seduce his tongue.

Not to mention, Shawn's hand moved behind your head, his fingers weaving through your hair.

Triple H didn't try doing this, but Shawn did.

Epilogue: You sometimes fantasize of having these 2 men lick and even suck whipped cream off of your toes, although your feet are a bit dirty now, not to mention even if your feet were completely clean they'd both find it disgusting.

Not to mention, there's still parts of your naked body they haven't licked whipped cream off of, like up and down your back, though, they're probably tired of licking all that whipped cream off of you, not to mention they might get sick, as in throwing up kind of sick, from eating all that whipped cream.

Plus, you'd love to lick the whipped cream off of Triple H's body, off of his torso and back, and later on that night, you did lick some whipped cream up his abs and chest as well as his back, not up Shawn's torso, why? Chest hair.

Pretty soon, you actually ate whipped cream on Triple H's nose while straddling his lap riding an airplane, whereas pretty soon, 3 hot male wrestlers did lick whipped cream off of your body.

If only whipped cream wasn't a caloriefest, that way these wrestlers won't get fat! As well as yourself.

[ambssssssssss]

The Scars We Carry

Part 4 of Found

Summary:

Valentina is there, she's home and safe, but she's not okay yet. She's scared and still fighting. Juliana knows she won't always have to fight, but she'll be there to love Valentina anyway. Scars and all.

Word count ~20,000

Read it on AO3 or below the cut

She knows she’s dreaming, she knows the chains on her wrists are imaginary, the marks on her back have long since healed over. She knows that when she opens her eyes, she’ll be safe and warm and laying next to the woman she loves. The rational side of her brain knows this, and knows that Juliana will wake up to comfort her, even if that comfort is simply sitting with the lights on. She knows Juliana will hold her if she asks, will smooth her hair back and whisper reassurances in her ear until she feels safe enough to drift back to sleep. She also knows the cycle will repeat itself over and over again, as it had done every night. 

As much as Valentina wants to curl up in Juliana’s arms and let her sooth her fears, she can’t. She doesn’t feel like she deserves to reach for Juliana anymore, not after what she did. Not knowing the crimes that weigh on her shoulders, the blood that stains her hands. Juliana didn’t deserve that burden and Valentina refused to give it to her. 

Instead, Valentina suffers in silence each night she spends with Juliana, laying close enough to feel her warmth but holding herself back from reaching out. It seems like they play a game of wills each night, waiting for the other to fall asleep. Valentina always wins, even when she doesn’t want too. Juliana isn’t accustomed to running on such little sleep, not in the same way Valentina is. It’s one of the many reasons Valentina doesn’t think she should be staying with Juliana. 

"I think I should move back into the mansion."

Valentina’s whispered words echo in the dark bedroom. She and Juliana lay side by side in Juliana’s bed, both of them looking up at the ceiling. Juliana turns to lay on her side when Valentina speaks. 

“Do you think it will help?” She keeps her voice low, resisting the urge to reach out and touch Valentina. She feels so close and still so far away. 

“I don’t know.” Valentina turns her head to look at Juliana. Her eyes are still haunted, cloudy. Everyday they try to move on from Vacio, it feels like they move further away from each other. It’s the last thing Juliana wants but she doesn’t know how to stop it from happening. “But I can’t keep doing this to you.” 

“Val,” Juliana does reach out now, settling the palm of her hand on the center of Valentina’s chest, “you’re not hurting me.” 

“Maybe not now,” Valentina’s eyes fall closed and she took a deep breath, “but we both know I’m not okay.” 

It’s a hard truth to admit. Alacran died over a month ago and Valentina had yet to sleep through the night. Everytime she closed her eyes she was back in captivity, only this time the torture she endured wasn’t directed at her. She saw Eva and Lucia, Guille, all being whipped just as she had been, destroyed and broken down inch by inch and all she could do was stand by and watch. Those dreams were nothing compared to what her dreams conjured up when Juliana was the one being tortured. It was easier not to sleep. 

“What happened to ‘I’ll always come home to you’?” Juliana expects Valentina to react to her question somehow, maybe tense up or push Juliana away, accuse her of twisting Valentina’s words. Instead, Valentina keeps her eyes closed and releases a sigh. 

“I will,” her voice is soft, a hint of something in her tone that Juliana can’t identify. Maybe she doesn’t want too. “But I think I need to come home to me, first.” 

“I don’t want to lose you,” it’s a whispered confession to match Valentina's from earlier. It’s the one thing Juliana is really scared of: losing Valentina to demons that she can’t help fight off. 

“There’s not a ‘me’ to lose. I don’t know who I am anymore.” Valentina shifts in the bed, moving closer and pressing her forehead against Juliana’s. It’s the closest she would get to kissing her since the night she woke up. “Until I do, I can’t do this.” 

“I don’t want this to feel like another goodbye,” Juliana can feel the tears filling her eyes, trying to blink them away only makes them fall faster. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” Valentina’s lips are a breath away from Juliana’s. “Which is why I need you to let me go for a little while.” 

Juliana knows that Valentina is right, she knows how hard it can be to love someone when you can’t love yourself. There was a time that Juliana had thought her ability to love died right beside Valentina, she knew she would never love anyone the way she had loved Valentina. She remembers the days she struggled to think she was worthy of anyone’s love, having grown up with a sicario father and well-meaning but absentee mother. She remembers Valentina showing her what love was like, and sometimes, love was waiting. Waiting for the one you loved to come back, to come home. Juliana had waited for three years, she could wait longer. She’d wait forever if Val asked her too. 

“Take all the time and space you need,” Juliana whispers. “But I am not letting you go.” 

Juliana leans in and kisses her then, like she’s scared it’s the last time she’ll be able to do so. Valentina kisses back softly, just for a moment, and then pulls away. 

 When Valentina leaves for the Carvajal mansion in the morning, she doesn’t kiss Juliana goodbye. Juliana’s stares at the closed covers of their photo albums and tries to remind herself that Valentina will come back to her, just like she promised. 

~

Her bedroom at the mansion was exactly like Valentina had left it, except for the empty feeling she felt when she stepped across the threshold. Her feet carried her to the far wall, next to her window seat. The surface there was almost entirely covered in photographs, dating back to when Valentina was a child up until the day she disappeared. Valentina fingers the last photo she and Juliana had taken together before she left. It was taken outside, in the hammock, Valentina has her nose buried in Juliana’s hair. Juliana has one arm extended out of frame, her smile wide and eyes closed as she leans into Valentina. 

“We couldn’t bring ourselves to change anything,” Guille’s voice pulls Valentina from her memories and she turns to him. He stands in the doorway, hands in his pockets. He looks unsure, out of his element, like he doesn't know how to act around Valentina anymore. He’s not the only to have acted that way since Valentina returned. “It was hard enough to even come in here.” 

“I guess you didn’t do that often, huh?” Valentina doesn’t know what to do with herself. She recognizes that the room and everything in it belongs to her but it feels too pure. She doesn't want to blacken anything by touching it. She settles for sitting in the desk chair, and tries to ignore the rush of memories that want to over take her. 

“Not really, Chivis did to clean but, I…” Guille looks away from her and swallows hard. “I couldn’t bring myself to be in here, or dad’s office. It hurt too much.” 

Guille doesn’t tell her about Juliana sometimes coming there during the first six months Val had gone, to copy pictures or steal one of Valentina’s jackets to sleep in, or just to feel closer to Val. He doesn’t tell her about the times he saw Eva stood by the door, hand raised as if to knock before she turned away with a sob. He doesn’t tell her about the times he would walk by and close the door because he couldn’t bear seeing the room so unlived in. He doesn’t tell her about the weeks Lucia spent sleeping downstairs because she couldn’t walk past Valentina’s bedroom or enter her own without crying. He doesn’t tell her anything of the pain their family suffered, but he feels like she knows anyway. 

“I know,” Valentina looks at her brother, really looks at him. He looks older, his beard filled out more, his frame sturdier somehow. Valentina wonders how many hours he spent in the gym, trying to beat his pain away on a punching bag or in the weight room. She can see the lines on his face that make him look twenty years older than he is, the way his shoulders slump with the weight of all the suffering he’s endured. It’s not as much as it was when Valentina first returned, Guille like everyone else starting to really believe that Valentina was home for good. She hopes they’re right, she hopes that watching her family heal will be enough to heal her too. 

She hopes her scars aren’t too much to push them away. 

“Chivis is making lunch, whenever you’re hungry,” Guille said. He doesn’t know if he wants Valentina to laugh or cry, or smile. He just wants her to feel, something other than whatever has her heart sitting so low. He’d never seen a woman so bogged down by pain in his life and he’s terrified that the bright young woman his sister used to be died for real beneath Alacran’s whip. 

“I guess I should eat,” Valentina mumbles more to herself, like she knows she should eat but she doesn’t really want to. Guile waits for her at the door and they walk downstairs together. He wants to throw his arm around her shoulders, her wants to tease her about Juliana and ask about her future plans. He doesn’t. 

Once they reach the dining room, he doesn’t notice the bottle of mezcal Valentina slips into her jacket pocket. 

 Days turned to weeks and Valentina starts to feel somewhat alive again. She’s alone for most of the day, while Guille, Lucia and Eva are at work and Juliana is in class. Chivis hovers near her for a little while each day at the beginning but then returns to her normal routine. Valentina spends most mornings running around the land surrounding the mansion, to uneasy to sit still in the house. Sometimes she feels like she spent three years in constant motion, moving faster than possible and now, she doesn’t know how to slow down. She’s afraid if she stops, the shadows she runs from will catch up and devour her from the inside out. 

So she runs, she pushes herself until she knows she can’t push any harder. She knows her limits, knows when to stop so that she won’t worry her family. She knows her family worries anyway, from the way they still linger in doorways, from the scared way they call out her name when she’s not where expected. They worry because she seems to be improving, on the outside. Her skin isn’t so pale, her frame not so thin anymore, she’s stopped reaching for her weapons at any sudden noise or movement. Juliana worries, so, so much. Valentina can see it written on every inch of her when they see one another. 

Valentina won’t let herself be alone with Juliana, not yet. It’s too tempting for her, she wants to fall into Juliana’s arms and tell her about the shadows that chase her, the visions that haunt her dreams. But she won’t. She can’t. Telling Juliana what she feels means hurting Juliana and Valentina swore that no matter what sort of monster she became, she would never hurt Juliana. She tries to resist the pull she has to Juliana, tries to not stand to close, not sit next to her on the couch or at the table, tries to keep herself from reaching out and tangling their fingers together. She tries and she fails, because there are only two times that she really feels okay. The first is when she has Juliana with her, close to her, when she can turn to Juliana and know that she won’t disappear when she blinks. 

The second is when her throat burns with another shot and her mind is too far gone to remember that the shadows that haunt her are bad. 

Juliana is waiting for her by the pool when Valentina decides she’d done enough running for the day. Valentina hesitates slightly at the sight of her, Juliana looks stressed. Her shoulders are tense, she’s playing with the zipper on her jacket absentmindedly. Her eyes are unfocused as Valentina approaches, her lips pulled together in a frown. Valentina remembers a time when she would have wrapped her arms around Juliana from behind, complaining about the heat and how sweaty she was. Juliana would have grumbled and told her she was gross but wouldn’t have tried to leave her embrace. Valentina would have leaned in and kissed her frown away. It feels like a lifetime ago. 

“Is everything okay?” Valentina asks instead as she steps around Juliana to the small table and picks up her water bottle and a towel to wipe her face with. She takes a couple long gulps of her water before she turns to Juliana again. “Juliana?” 

“Hmm? Oh it’s fine.” Juliana snaps herself out of whatever daze she had been in and offers Valentina a smile. “Just some assignment stuff, nothing too important.” 

“Tell me about it?” Valentina requests, half because she wants to know what’s going in Juliana’s life and half because she doesn’t want to talk about what’s happening in her own. 

“It’s nothing,” Juliana waves away her question. Valentina wants to argue that it is something, it’s Juliana’s life, her struggles. It’s something Valentina had missed so much of. Instead Valentina nods her understanding and gestures for Juliana to follow her inside where Chivis would have lunch ready. 

“There, you are Vale,” Eva said from where she was seated at the table, an untouched plate of food on the table before her, “and Juls.” Eva smiles at them, clearly happy to see them walking in together. 

“Hey, Eva,” Juliana greeted as she took her place. Valentina almost took the seat across from Juliana but changed her mind at the last second to sit beside her instead. The smile Juliana sent her said she had made the right choice, but the way her stomach twisted in guilt said she did the opposite. “How’s work?” 

Valentina lets Eva and Juliana carry the conversation, only speaking up when Lucia enters and then Guille a few moments later. Her family had made it a point to come home for lunch everyday since Valentina had moved in and Valentina didn’t know if she should thank them or tell them to leave her alone. Guille and Eva look at her like she could break at any second, like they’re waiting for it to happen so they can be there to catch her when she falls. Juliana looks at her with so much hope and love Valentina almost can’t bear to look back, because she knows that staying away hurts Juliana, but getting closer would only hurt her more. Lucia, Valentina can’t quite make out her expression when she looks at Valentina. It’s not quite heartbreak, nor is it pity, a hint of sadness maybe and also a maternal care but nothing as overwhelming as the others. Or maybe it is overwhelming but Valentina can’t look at Lucia for too long without thinking about her father, so she looks away before she can see it. 

“Val, do you want some more?” Eva’s question shakes Valentina out of her mind and she focuses on her family. They try to look like they aren’t waiting for her to say something and continue their conversation, it doesn’t work well but a part of Valentina appreciates the effort. 

“No, thanks. I’m going to go take a shower,” Valentina leaves the table before the others can reply. She pauses at the door to the kitchen to thank Chivis for lunch before she continues up the stairs to her bedroom. Once the door is closed she leans her back against it, breathing deeply. Footsteps approach slowly, she can hear fabric shift as the person on the other side lifts their hand. Valentina waits for a knock but it doesn’t come. 

“I love you, Valentina,” Juliana’s voice floats through the door. The wood separating them does nothing to muffle the emotion in Juliana’s voice. Valentina turns to lean her forehead against the door and wonders if Juliana does the same from the other side. “I love you.” 

Valentina expects Juliana to say something else, maybe ask if she needs more time, or if she’s okay. Valentina wouldn’t know how to answer either of those questions. She doesn’t know how much time she needs. She doesn’t know if she’s ever going to be okay. But, Juliana stays silent on the other side of the door and the weight of her silence makes something in Valentina shift. Tears fill her eyes and fall but she doesn’t try to stop them. Every part of her wants to open the door, to hold Juliana close and tell her that she loves her too, but she doesn’t. She leans against the door and cries until long after Juliana’s steps had retreated. She doesn’t know how long Juliana stands outside her door or how long she cries. 

Then, when her tears finally stop, Valentina rises and heads to her dresser when she removes one of the bottles of mezcal she had been holding onto. She doesn’t bother with a glass, instead gulping the alcohol down straight from the bottle. It burns her already raw throat and she wants to cry again. 

She doesn’t. 

Instead, she finishes the bottle and hides in her room the rest of the day. 

~

Juliana returns to the dining room and finds only Lucia there. 

“Guille and Eva had to go back to work,” Lucia explains as Juliana reclaims her seat. Her food is still sitting there on the table but she doesn’t feel like eating. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think I’d be up there that long,” Juliana had been up and out of her seat following Valentina before she thought about what she was doing. It was second nature to her, to comfort Valentina when she was upset, to be with Valentina no matter what but everytime she reached for Val only to have Valentina turn the other way felt like she lost a piece of her heart that she didn’t know how to get back. 

“What happened?” Lucia asked softly, curious but not wanting to pressure Juliantina into answering if she didn’t want too. It was a hard time for all of them, readjusting to this new Valentina but Lucia thought Juliana had gotten the worst end of the stick. The love of her life was back, alive and safe but not willing to be together again despite how clear it was that they still loved each other. 

“Nothing,” Juliana shrugged. “I didn’t even go into her room.” Juliana picked at her nails with her teeth. Lucia rounded the table to sit beside her, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “I don’t think she’s dealing with what happened. She’s not healing. She’s still not home.” 

“She might never be,” Lucia said gently, rubbing Juliana’s arm in a maternal manner. “I know it hurts to think about, but the Valentina we knew may never come back.” 

“I know,” Juliana sniffled against the tears that threatened to spill, “I know that. I know she thinks she’s too different now. I just wish she knew that I want to know the person she is now, whoever that is. Whatever she thinks will scare me away, won’t.” 

“I think she does know that,” Lucia reached for the pitcher of water and refilled her glass. “When she looks at you, it’s the only time she seems okay, or like she might be okay. I don’t think she’s worried about scaring you away.” 

“Then what is she worried about?” Juliana asked softly and she sounded more broken than Lucia had ever heard her. 

“I don’t know for sure, but if I had to hazard a guess...I think she’s scared that she’s going to hurt you.” 

Juliana looked up sharply. “She would never.” 

“I know, I know that and so do you.” Lucia held her hands up in the universal sign of I mean no harm before placing her hand on Juliana’s arm again. “But I don’t think she knows that. You heard what that man said in the warehouse, Valentina has one weakness. You.” 

Juliana shivered at the memory of a gun pressed against her temple, the man who had tormented Valentina so much promising to make it worse by hurting Juliana. “But she didn’t hurt me, she isn’t hurting me intentionally.” 

“Maybe she’s scared she will,” Lucia said with a frown, “maybe the fight is over for us but not for her. She was gone for a long time, she was scared and alone and turned into a weapon. Then she came back and had to be saviour for everyone else.” 

“What are you saying?” Juliana asked. Lucia looked at her and Juliana felt as if she was being let in on some sort of secret but she didn’t know what it was. 

“I’m saying, Valentina nearly lost her life to save all of us,” Lucia squeezed Juliana’s arm, “maybe now she needs us to save her, keep her safe and remind her that she’s loved, so she can save herself from whatever demons she created.” 

“What if she doesn’t want to save herself?” Juliana whispered. “What if she can’t?” 

“She can, she will,” Lucia pulled Juliana into a hug and spoke firmly. “She came home to you Juliana, she’s trying to keep you from hurting, even if she’s going about it wrong. She’s still fighting. I know you’ve fought for so long, and I know you thought you didn’t have to anymore, but you need to hold on. We all do. Hold on and trust that Valentina will come home. Can you do that?” 

Juliana nodded because she didn’t know what to say. Lucia was right, Juliana needed to hold on. She had promised she wouldn’t let go of Valentina, no matter how long it took, Juliana would be there, waiting with her heart and arms open for Valentina. She hadn’t given up on Valentina in the three years they had been apart, when she had no way to know for sure if Valentina was even alive. She wouldn’t give up now, not when she knew Valentina could get better. Juliana wouldn’t give up on someone she loved and she loved Valentina more than anything. 

 Juliana left the Carvajal mansion soon after her talk with Lucia and returned to her apartment. She kicked her shoes off by the door and dropped her keys on the coffee table before collapsing on the couch. She ran her fingers through her hair and released a loud sigh, not fighting the tears that wanted to fall. The more she thought about what Lucia said, the more it made sense. Maybe it had been selfish of Juliana to hope things would go back to normal for her and Valentina. She scoffed at her own thoughts. She didn’t know what normal meant for them anymore. Her normal was searching for a woman the world believed dead, Valentina’s normal was fighting in a war no one knew about. 

“She’s closing you out, isn’t she?” Juliana jumps off the couch when the voice reaches her ears, spinning with wide eyes to face the woman she hadn’t realized was in her apartment. 

“Maya,” Juliana holds a hand to her chest to try and calm her racing heart. “I thought you left town.” 

“I did,” Maya takes a seat on Juliana’s couch, “but I thought I should check in. See how she’s doing.” 

“Well, you checked the wrong place.” Juliana plopped back down on the opposite end of the couch from Maya. “She hasn’t been here in weeks.” 

“Hmm,” Maya hums and looks over at Juliana. “You think she isn’t healing.” 

“I think she’s still fighting, but I don’t know how to help her.” Juliana corrects. She plays with the charm hanging from her neck. 

“Maybe you can’t. Maybe she won’t let you.” 

“Maybe not.” Juliana held the silver ‘v’ in the palm of her hand and closed her eyes. “But I have to try.” 

“You really love her,” It’s not a question or a statement, not exactly. Juliana opens her eyes and looks at Maya. 

“With everything I have.” 

“Fight for her,” Maya tells her and then smiles sadly. “If anyone can save that girl from herself, it’s you. You were the only thing that kept her going.” 

“How do you know?” Juliana asks and sits up slightly. She knew that Maya felt something for Valentina, she could see it on her face plain as day, but she wasn’t sure how deep those feelings ran, or if Valentina had ever returned them. 

“She used to call out for you,” Maya looks away, as if the admission hurts her. “Every night, she would dream about you, I could hear her. She’d say your name, mumble to you. I could see her move around, like she was looking for you. Then she’d wake up, remember where she was and hold onto that necklace, just like you are.” Maya gestures at the hand Juliana still has wrapped around her charm. “I bet she still does.” 

Juliana didn’t know how to respond to that and it seemed like Maya wasn’t expecting her too as she continued speaking. “I used to think that if she would forget about you, she’d be better off. Maybe she would have realized what was right in front of her. Maybe she would have…” 

“Maybe she would have loved you.” Juliana doesn’t know what to say or feel. She’s overwhelmed by the amount of emotions she felt over the course of her day. 

“She wouldn’t have, I know that now.” Maya shakes her head and stands up. “Even if she had felt something for me, it could never have compared.” Maya moves to Juliana’s door and places her hand on the knob. Then, she half turns to Juliana again. “She’ll come back to you, I know she will. Just promise me that when she does, you won’t run from her. That you’ll love her, scars and all.” 

“I promise,” Juliana says. It won’t be a hard promise to keep. Loving Val is the easiest thing she’s ever done. 

“Good.” Maya leaves then and Juliana doubts she’ll ever see her again. She wishes she had thought to thank Maya, for staying with Valentina, for being there when Juliana couldn’t, maybe even for loving Valentina. Maya was part of the reason Valentina had survived, she had helped Val come home and for that, Juliana would be forever grateful. 

~

Lucia catches her by accident one night. She had stayed late at El Centro reviewing applications of the recent graduates, and half-way wondering if she would see an application with Juliana’s name on it ever cross her desk. She had seen some of Juliana’s work over the years and she knew she would be a brilliant journalist, but she also knew Juliana had never forgotten her dream of being a fashion designer. Lucia hadn’t realized the late hour until after she had reviewed the applicants and decided to head home for the evening, not expecting to find anyone in the mansion awake. 

When she opened the door, she was greeted by a rhythmic thumping sound coming from near the back. Lucia followed the sound to the workout area Guille had put together beside the pool. The door had been left open, otherwise Lucia was sure she wouldn’t have heard a thing. She took a deep breath to try and prepare herself for what she would see. She thinks, after stepping around the corner, that maybe she should have taken another breath or given herself more time. 

It’s Valentina that she finds, her hands wrapped as she strikes the dummy Guille used to practice boxing again and again. That doesn’t surprise her so much, of all the people living in the mansion, Valentina was the one who slept the least. She was always the last one to bed and the first one to rise, sometimes Lucia wondered if she even slept at all. It wasn’t a shock to see Val awake at such a late hour. It was a shock to see the lines of white across her back, pale and raised slightly. They look as if the scars had been there a long time, clearly healed but leaving a lasting mark of Valentina’s body. Suddenly, Lucia remembers the story Valentina had told them after she and Guille had been thrown into the room with them at the warehouse. She remembers the hollow voice Valentina had spoken with as she described the way Alacran had tortured her, the sting of the whip against her back. 

“Valentina,” Lucia watches as Val’s shoulders tense and she turns, arms held up ready to defend herself. She’s breathing hard, her body covered in sweat but it’s not seeing that breaks the damn in Lucia. It’s when Valentina’s eyes widen and she wraps her arms around herself, trying to hide herself. It’s the way she opens her mouth to say something but no sound comes out. It’s when Valentina tries again and this time there is a sound, a heart wrenching sob escapes her and she drops to the floor. Lucia realizes that half the moisture on Valentina’s face is tears and she feels something in her break. 

She’s beside Valentina in a second, unsure how to proceed but wanting nothing more than to comfort the young woman who had become a daughter to her. Valentina shifts, moving so her back is facing away from Lucia. Lucia looks around and spots a towel on a chair nearby, and reaches for it. She holds it up fully, spreading her arms out. Valentina watches her closely as she approaches again. Lucia holds her breath as she wraps her arms around Valentina, using the towel as a buffer so she doesn’t touch Valentina’s skin. Valentina cries harder. 

“I’m sorry,” Valentina says through her sobs, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Shh, shh, Vale.” Lucia runs her fingers through Valentina’s sweaty hair to sooth her. “I don’t understand why you are apologizing.” 

“I came back,” Valentina moves like she wants to pull away from Lucia but Lucia holds her tighter. “I came back, I’m alive. Papi isn’t.” 

“Oh, Val,” Lucia feels Valentina’s sink further into her and she wonders if this is part of the reason Val had been so distant. She wonders if this is part of the battle going on inside Valentina’s mind and curses herself for not thinking of it sooner. Valentina had been gone for so long, fighting so hard, she never had the chance to mourn her father. “It’s not your fault, mija.” 

“Why didn’t they take me too?” Valentina asks and Lucia feels what’s left of her heart shatter. “Why did we have to lose him?” 

“I don’t know why, Valentina. I wish I did.” Lucia kisses Valentina’s forehead and holds her tighter. She doesn’t care that Valentina has cried a wet spot onto her shoulder, that she’s shaking from her sobs or probably ruining the slacks she wore to work. All she cares about is helping Valentina and she doesn’t know how to do that. 

“I miss him, Lucia. I miss him so much,” Valentina takes a shuddering breath. 

“I do too, Val, every day, but I know one thing.” Lucia felt Valentina pull back and looked down at her. The question that she can’t voice is in her eyes. “He would rather you be here, safe and alive, than be wherever he is now.” 

“You can’t know that.” Val looks away from Lucia. 

“I can, because I know how he felt for his kids.” Lucia pulls Valentina back against herself and rocks slightly. “He loved you and your siblings more than anything. He wanted you to live and be happy, and he still wants that now.” 

“I don’t know how to do that anymore.” Valentina admits. “I don’t know how to feel anything but scared.” 

“It’s okay to be scared.” Lucia strokes Valentina’s hair again. Her sobs have lost some of their intensity but she still feels Valentina’s shoulders shake. “Most people are. I am, and I know Guille and Eva are as well. And Juliana.” 

Valentina looks up at Lucia again, as much as she can without moving her head from Lucia’s chest. Lucia wonders if this is what it had been like when Val was a child, before her mom passed. She hoped that, wherever she was, Leon’s first wife approved of Lucia taking on this role of maternal comfort. Lucia knows that Valentina wants to ask about what scares Juliana but can’t bring herself to say the words. 

“She’s scared that you don’t love her anymore. Juliana’s scared that you won’t let her love you.” Lucia feels the breath Val releases and the flutter of her eyelashes against her neck. 

“I don’t know how to.” Valentina pulls away from Lucia completely and Lucia lets her go. Valentina wraps the towel around herself as she goes, hiding her scars from view. “I spent so much time fighting against the world, I don’t know how to live in it anymore.” 

“Let us help you,” Lucia stood when Valentina did but didn’t try to approach her again. She could see Valentina closing herself off. “I promise we aren’t going to run away. Juliana won’t leave you.” 

“Maybe she should.” Valentina half turns to Lucia and there’s more emotion on her face than Lucia seen in the full two months that had been back. Valentina shakes her head and her face is a blank mask again. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.” 

She’s gone before Lucia can reply. Lucia makes it to her bedroom before her knees give out and she collapses on the floor. She cries, cries for everything Valentina lost, cries for their family, cries for Leon and Juliana, until her throat aches and her eyes sting and there’s no tears left for her to cry. She hauls herself up and into bed after stripping off her work clothes and lays awake against the pillows. She tries to think of something she can do to help Valentina, but she fears there’s nothing that can be done. 

After all, no one can save the people who don’t want to be saved. 

~

“How are you doing, mija?” Lupe asks her daughter. Their sitting together on the couch in the house Lupe shares with Panchito. Panchito is in the kitchen, cooking dinner for the three of them. It’s supposed to be a party, a celebration for Lupe and Panchito who had finally decided to get married. Juliana was happy for them, unbelievably so. Her mother deserves all the happiness in the world. Still, Juliana didn’t feel much like celebrating. “And Valentina? I was hoping to see her soon.” 

“I’m…” Juliana closes her eyes for a second. “I’m here.” 

“I thought since she was back…” Lupe trailed off, her smile fading as Juliana closed her eyes again and leaned her head back against the wall, “I thought you said she was getting better.” 

“I thought she was,” Juliana ran her fingers through her hair. “We were good, the first few days. Right after she woke up. We were together and it wasn’t perfect but it was okay. She was there, I could feel her there. But then,” 

“What happened?” Panchito asked, entering from the kitchen with a towel over his shoulder. He crossed his arms over his chest and rested against the arm of the couch beside Lupita.

“I don’t know. She stopped sleeping, stopped eating. She would barely speak and sometimes she would look at me like…” 

“Like what?” Lupe asked, holding Juliana by the arm to keep her from turning away of hiding. 

“Like she thought I wasn’t real. It was like she could stare right at me and not see anything.” Juliana felt the tears filling her eyes and fought to keep them from falling. “She broke down the other day, Lucia told me. Whatever battle Valentina’s still fighting, Lucia thinks she’s about to give it up. We don’t know what will happen if she does.”

Lupe and Panchito looked like they wanted to press for answers, ask about Valentina’s breakdown but neither felt it would be right to discuss something like that without Valentina’s consent. Instead Lupe pulls her crying daughter into her embrace. Panchito moves so he can rest a comforting hand on Juliana’s shoulder. They sit like that for a long time, Panchito only leaving for a moment to keep the food from burning. When he returns, Juliana has sat up slightly and is wiping at her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and the crack in her voice breaks her mother’s heart. “We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

“You don’t have to apologize, mija.” Lupita wipes a stray tear away. “I know.”

Lupita remains on the couch as Juliana gets up and heads to the washroom for a moment alone. Panchito sits beside her and takes her hand. Lupe leans into him gratefully but keeps the tears that want to fall from doing so.

“She’s so strong,” Panchito whispers softly. “If something like this had happened to you, to us…” he trails off, the thought alone enough to break his heart. “I don’t know how she stays so strong.”

“She doesn’t know what else to do,” Lupe says, “that girl has had to be strong for her entire life. Valentina was the only one she didn’t have to protect herself from.”

“You’re scared she is now, protecting herself from Valentina I mean.” Panchito says after a moment in which Lupe rubs her fingers together nervously.

“I’m scared that she isn’t.” Lupe shakes her head. “I’ve never seen two people more in love with each other, more willing to risk it all just to be together. I know that hasn’t changed for either of them, and that’s what scares me. Juliana will go to the ends of the earth for that girl, she already has.”

“You think their love will hurt her?” Panchito asks slowly, though he sounds unsure. He knows very little about Valentina, except for the fact that Juliana and she had been together for a long time, but Valentina had been gone for the past few years. He knows Juliana never stopped searching and that Valentina is finally home, and he knows that Juliana still loves her desperately.

“It already has,” Lupita thinks back to the nights she stayed at Juliana’s apartment with her, right after Valentina and her father went missing. She thinks of the nights she spent holding her daughter as she cried herself to sleep, the mornings she found Juliana curled up in one of Valentina’s hoodies and clutching to her necklace like a life-line. “I’m scared that their love won’t be enough for either of them to heal, and this time when Juliana breaks, she won’t come back.”

Panchito doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t think there is anything he can say that would make a difference. He understands Lupita’s fears, she had told him about Juliana and Valentina, how their relationship had developed and how Lupita had struggled to accept it. He saw from a distance as Juliana started to put herself back together, not completely but enough so that he and Lupita were sure she would be okay, over the course of the last three years. He watched Juliana’s expression when she told them that Valentina was home, safe and alive. He saw the devotion Juliana felt and the way she hurried back to Valentina after telling them. He saw it all, and maybe it was because he was a relative outsider when it came to the situation or maybe it was because he was a romantic at heart but there was one thing Panchito was certain of: the love Juliana and Valentina shared would be enough, if they would just give it the chance to blossom again.

~

Guille is watching Valentina, just as he had been all night. Just as he had done every day since she came back home, if he was being honest. It was hard not to, even before Valentina had disappeared. He was her big brother, her had been her protector her entire life and it was difficult to stamp out that urge. She didn’t need so much protection as she got older, especially after she met Juliana and Guille learned that Valentina’s protective streak was much more intimidating than his own. He doubted she needed his protection at all, seeing as he had watched her take on multiple men more than twice her size with barely a scratch but he still felt that urge. He still wanted to be the knight to Valentina’s princess, just as they had been when they were children fighting against the evil witch, played by Eva. He knew he couldn’t be, he knew that the only one who could save Valentina was herself, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to try.

He watched as Valentina knocked back shot after shot, drinking them as if they burned no more than a glass of juice, like a woman who had wandered through an endless desert and finally found an oasis. She doesn’t flinch from the burn, doesn’t react at all. Guille would think she had been drinking water if he hadn’t seen her stumble when she tried to walk. Now, he watched as Valentina slowly sat down next to the pool, staring at the water without really seeing it.

“You’re staring again,” Renata whispered in his ear and he half turned towards her, still keeping his eyes on his youngest sister.

“She’s been drinking,”

“We all have,” Renata reminded him, “it’s a party, that’s what people do.” She gestured around at the room, where everyone but Juliana held some sort of alcoholic beverage in their hands. Even Lupe, who Guille had never seen drink in the six years he had known her, had a small glass of wine in hand where she stood with Lucia and Eva, showing off her ring.

“Not like she has been,” Guille tore his gaze away from his sister for the first time that night to focus on his girlfriend.

“It’s a celebration, mi amor, you said yourself that you were surprised Lupe and Panchito hadn’t tied the knot yet.”

“I know,” Guille had been anything but surprised when Juliana told him that her mother was getting married, but he was happy for her nevertheless. It was strange how close their families had become, although he suspected that had a lot to do with Lupita not wanting Juliana to lose her support system when Valentina was gone. “I’m happy for them, I am, but Valentina…I don’t think she was ready for an event like this.”

“You can’t know th-“ Renata is cut off suddenly by a splash and Guille hears several gasps, glasses shattering as they hit the pavement. For a moment, no one reacts. It’s like they’re all frozen in time, unable to believe what they see. The ice is shattered by Juliana, screaming.

“Valentina!” Juliana cries out, diving into the pool without thinking. Valentina floats in the water, face down and not trying to move. Juliana feels as if she has a thousand ponds strapped to her legs, keeping her from reaching Valentina. She fights against them.

“Val, Val, mi amor, mirame,” Juliana whispers as she reaches Valentina, wrapping one arm beneath her shoulders and turning her body so her mouth and nose are above water again. Valentina coughs, water spilling from her mouth, but she doesn’t try to pull away. “Val, what were you thinking?”

They’re standing in the shallow end of the pool now, where Juliana can easily stand up. She cradles Valentina to her chest, the position oddly reminiscent of the first time they had swam together. Juliana remembers asking Valentina to not let go, remembers Val’s promise not to. Part of her wonder what changed so much to lead them here, part of her already knows.

“I wanted it to stop,” Valentina coughs again and then burrows closer to Juliana. Juliana’s skin nearly burns at the contact. “I just wanted it to stop. I can’t make it stop, Juls, I can’t. I’m so tired.” Valentina’s crying then, hiding her face against Juliana’s neck.

“I’m here, Val, I’m here and I’m not letting go.” Juliana tells her and Valentina cries harder. Juliana kisses her hair, softly, like she’s afraid the pressure alone will break Valentina. Then she looks up, “Guille, help me get her out of the pool.”

Guille snaps out of his stupor and makes his way to the side of the pool, holding his arms out. Valentina mumbles something as she’s transferred to Guille’s arms. Her eyes flutter wildly and she stretches her arm out.

“Juliana, I can’t.” Valentina says and Juliana takes her hand as soon as she’s on her feet again. She steps up close to Valentina, kisses her forehead.

“Shh, Val, it’s okay. I’m here,” she kisses Val again, “whatever you can’t do, I can. I’m here, I’m not leaving.” Valentina nods slightly, still crying.

“We need to get her upstairs,” Lucia says suddenly, “Eva, go pull out some fresh clothes for her, something warm. Guille, can you carry her upstairs?” Guille nods and begins to walk away with Valentina in his arms, following Eva who had taken off at a dead sprint for possibly the first time in her life.

“Juli, are you okay?” Lupe asks as she comes up to her daughter, touching her face.

“She needs me, Mom, I have to go.” Juliana side-steps her mother and follows Guille without looking back.

“I’ll look after her, Lupita,” Lucia says, “I’m sorry this happened tonight.”

“It’s not important, please, make sure our girls are okay. And give Valentina my love.” Lupita waves off Lucia’s concerns and leans into the arms of Panchito as Lucia makes her way upstairs as well. Renata collapses into a nearby chair for a moment and then stands again, moving to collect the cleaning supplies. If nothing else, she could help the Carvajal family by getting rid of the broken glass, and maybe hiding all the alcohol as well.

 When Lucia arrives upstairs, Guille is standing in the hallway, his back against the wall next to Valentina’s door. Lucia can see his shoulders shaking with silent sobs and pauses to touch his head gently. He looks up at her, shakes his head and then looks away. Lucia kneels and kisses his head and then steps into Valentina’s room.

Valentina lays on her bed, shivering. She’d been stripped down to her underwear and Eva dabs at her skin with a towel. Juliana sits beside her, leaning in close to whisper in Valentina’s ear. She pulls back and waits for Valentina to nod, then she looks as Eva who nods and helps lift Valentina up. Being as careful as possible, Juliana removes Valentina’s bra and then slides a sweater over her upper body, taking a moment to hold onto Valentina when she curls into her slightly. The process repeats and Juliana slips Valentina’s lower body into a pair of sweatpants.

“Lucia, can you help get her under the blankets?” Juliana asks, squeezing Valentina’s hands but not moving to sit on the bed again. It’s then that Lucia notices Juliana is still wearing her wet clothes.

Lucia nods, after opening her mouth only to find herself unable to speak. She moves over to the bed and helps Eva maneuver a still shivering Valentina under the blankets, pulling Valentina’s wet hair away from her face and holding her steady as Eva tries to dry the brunette locks a bit. She hears rustling behind her but doesn’t look away from Valentina and Eva until Juliana is beside her again.

Valentina mumbles again, it sounds like something in another language that Lucia can’t understand. She and Eva step back as Juliana slides under the blankets with Valentina.

“Juls,” Valentina’s voice comes out as a low whimper. Lucia isn’t aware that she’s crying until she feels Eva brush a tear away. “Juls, make it stop, please, make it stop.”

“Shh, Vale,” Juliana whispers back to her. Lucia feels as if she’s witnessing the most private of moments but she can’t bring herself to look away. Eva’s hand slips into her own. “I’m here, mi amor. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Lucia realizes that there’s nothing more she or Eva can do for Valentina at that moment, and starts to pull Eva from the room with her. Juliana catches her eye as they leave and nods once in acknowledgement before she returns her complete attention to Valentina. Guille isn’t on the floor by the door anymore when they step out, Lucia isn’t sure how long it’s been since they went in. It felt like no time had passed at all, but she felt herself become more exhausted with each step she took.

Lucia doesn’t let go of Eva’s hand as she walks to her own bedroom. She pulls the door open and lets Eva step in first before following after, and shutting the door behind them. Eva takes her hand again and pulls her over to the bed. They each kick off their shoes before falling into the mattress and each other without bothering to change clothes.

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t do this anymore,” Eva says as she curls into Lucia.

“We won’t,” Lucia whispers back and places a soft kiss against Eva’s temple. “But I need you tonight,”

“I need you, too,” Eva turns her face to hide against Lucia’s neck and suddenly she’s crying. Lucia holds her close and cries with her. They could have that, if only for one night, they could have each other. For one night.

 In her bedroom, Valentina slowly comes back to herself. She’s aware that she’s in her room, that someone is holding her and that she’s changed clothes, but she doesn’t know how any of those things happened. She remembers sitting by the pool, she remembers not recognizing her own reflection in the water. She remembers wanting to stop running, to stop hurting. She remembers thinking maybe the water would help. Then, nothing. She groans softly as she turns over and hears a soft murmur in response.

“I’m here, Val,” Juliana says, wide awake but her eyes look far away. She hadn’t realized Valentina was awake.

“Juliana?” Val asks softly, her voice raspy. Her throat aches and she taste what she thinks is bleach on her tongue. “Juliana, what happened?”

“Val,” Juliana looks at her, finally. She looks heartbroken and Valentina knows that it’s her fault. “You fell into the pool, Valentina.” That would explain the taste in her mouth then, chlorine. “You kept saying you wanted it to stop, I..” Juliana stops, her eyes brimming with tears as she looks at Valentina again. “I thought you were trying to make it stop.”

It’s then that Valentina realizes what had upset Juliana so much. Valentina had wanted it to stop, and tried to make it happen, even if she hadn’t realized what she was doing at the time.

“Please tell me it was an accident, Val. Please.”

“I don’t know if it was.” Val admits so softly. She feels Juliana deflate against her, hears the choked sob she releases. It pricks at the edges of Valentina’s heart and she pulls Juliana close to her. Juliana’s tears land against her neck. “I’m so tired, Juliana. I don’t want to fight anymore. I can’t.”

“You don’t have to fight alone,” Juliana says without moving from Valentina’s embrace. “I can help. I want to help. Why won’t you let me?”

“You’ve already spent three years waiting for me, it’s not fair to make you wait even longer. You deserve more than this broken thing.” Valentina feels Juliana start to pull away and braces herself for the goodbye she knows is coming.

“No, it’s not fair, but life isn’t fair. I’d rather wait for you and spend whatever time we can together, happy, than be miserable and alone without you.” Juliana cups Valentina’s face with one hand, seeing the surprise on her face. “I know what life is like without you Valentina, and I hate it. I want to spend my life with you, no matter how much it hurts now. It won’t always hurt, but I’ll always love you.”

“I don’t deserve your love, not after what I did.” Valentina tries to look away but Juliana won’t let her.

“You deserve all the greatest things in the world, you did what you did to survive. You came back, that’s all I care about.” Juliana lifted her other hand to card her fingers through Valentina’s damp hair. “Everything else, the hurt and the pain and the demons that come with it, we can face together. I’m not letting you go, not ever.”

“I don’t know when I’ll be okay again. I don’t know if I can be okay again.”

“I know,” Juliana wipes a tear Valentina wasn’t aware had fallen. “I won’t leave, Valentina, I promise. I’m always with you.” Juliana taps the silver ‘j’ hanging from Valentina’s neck and then the ‘v’ around her own. “Just like you’re always with me. Whatever scars you carry, they won’t scare me away. We’re forever, just like we promised.”

“I’m sorry I can’t love you the way you deserve.” Valentina feels Juliana rest their foreheads together.

“You love me perfectly, Valentina, you always have.” Juliana wants to kiss her, knows it would be so easy to close the space between them and connect their lips. But, she also knows Valentina isn’t ready for that yet. There’s still too much pain for it to feel right, so Juliana moves so she can press her lips to Valentina’s forehead instead.

It’s not perfect, and it still hurts so much, but it’s a beginning. It’s the door opening enough for Valentina to see that she can step through, if she wants. It’s the first of the many pieces of their hearts coming back together.

~

It’s easier for Valentina to talk to someone she doesn’t know, someone she’s not attached too. It takes a couple tries to find the right person, but she does. Barbara, as she has her clients call her, is an eccentric woman. Her office is set up more like a child therapist’s, with knick-knacks and odd bits and bobs scattered around the room for her clients to fiddle with during their appointments. She burns different incense for each patient, but the scents all blend together into a comforting floral aroma. It reminds Valentina of when she used to walk through the garden with her mother. Barbara asks Valentina questions about her life, the people she spends her time with, her interests, her dreams. It feels pointless to Valentina, until later on, several sessions after she started therapy, when Barbara asks about her shadows. Valentina describes them slowly, jumbling her words and stumbling over some of them but eventually she gets to where she can speak freely with Barbara. She starts to feel like she can trust Barbara, like she’s in a place where she doesn’t have to be prepared to fight every second. Still she struggles to make any progress at all. 

It takes several difficult conversations for Valentina to voice that she doesn’t feel any different. She’s standing by the window when she finally does, her fingers twisting together because she doesn’t want to turn and see the disappointment on Barbara’s face in order to grab one of the many fidget gadgets on the table.

“Nothing’s changed, this has been pointless.” Valentina says without looking away from the window. She hears Barbara shift in her seat. 

“Why do you feel that way?” Barbara asks, gently but in a way that Valentina knows she’s expecting an honest answer. 

“I don’t feel any different. I still feel like I’m fighting.” Valentina replies. She hears the soft swish of paper moving as Barbara moves in her seat. There’s a soft thud and then a clatter as Barbara sets her notepad and pen down on the table. 

“Valentina, I’m going to ask a question and I want you to be completely honest with me.” Barbara says. Valentina nods her head, still facing the window. 

“Do you want to stop fighting?” Barbara asks. She see’s Valentina’s shoulders tense. 

“Yes.” Valentina says, her voice is low. She isn’t sure if it’s a lie or not. 

“Prove it.” Barbara says, a challenging lilt to her words. Valentina turns her head sharply, eyes boring into Barbara’s. Barbara doesn’t back down. “You’ve accepted that you have PTSD, you say you understand what that means, but you don’t act like it. You said it yourself, you’re still fighting. You’ve already learned how you can start winning, why are you still at a stalemate with yourself?” 

“Because what if it doesn’t work? What if I never get better? What if I can’t be okay?” Valentina yells, turning completely to Barbara and then moving to the couch where she collapses. 

“I’ll tell you a secret, Valentina,” Barbara begins, “if you don’t think you can get better, then you won’t. Therapy only works if you want it too. I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself.” 

“I don’t want to keep fighting. I’m so tired.” Valentina leans her head back against the couch. 

“Okay,” Barbara says. “Valentina, you can get better, you can learn to live again. But only if you want to. You don’t have to be tired. But you need to understand that you may never be the same again, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s okay to be different. Can you accept that?” 

“I don’t know,” Valentina says, playing with the silver charm hanging around her neck. “But I want to try.” 

“Okay,” Barbara smiles. “Then let’s talk about your nightmares. Did any of the breathing techniques we went over help?” 

There’s a shift after that day, one that doesn’t seem all that important at first. It’s Valentina’s first step through the door she had opened that night with Juliana, the first time she agreed to try. It happens slowly, like a storm building up. She can feel the rain coming, feel it’s cleansing aura gaining power but she doesn’t know when the downpour will strike but she knows that it will, and she wants to be ready for it. 

The next sessions are somehow harder and easier at the same time. Valentina starts to feel less heavy inside but her progress still feels slow. There are the days when all she can do is run, there are days where she has to force herself not to cry, there are days when she stares at a bottle of mezcal so long she can almost taste it. Those days are the worst, when Valentina wants to hide but can’t without having to start over. She hates feeling like she failed, like she can’t get better. She’d given in to the temptation to drink twice since she started seeing Barbara, both times felt like she had broken a promise. Barbara tells her it’s okay to fall, as long as she gets back up and tries again. It hurts like hell but it’s part of the reason Valentina trusts Barbara, because in all the months she’s been visiting Barbara had made an effort to prove herself trustworthy and part of that was never sugarcoating the truths Val needed to hear. 

One day she asks why Barbara spent so much time building the trust.

“In my experience, people with PTSD won’t open up to people they know or complete strangers. It’s a delicate balance. Of course, each patient is different, no two people share the same trauma, but it helps when they can control the flow of information.” Barbara explains. It makes sense, Valentina thinks. She didn’t want to open up to Juliana or anyone else she knows, because they were too close. The other therapists she spoke with were too far away. Barbara hit that happy medium, somehow.

“Have your dreams changed any?” Barbara asks after a beat of silence. Valentina nods slightly and Barbara sits back, having learned that Valentina would explain if she wanted to, when given enough time.

“I don’t dream about being taken captive anymore,” Valentina plays with a small cube in her hand, fiddling with four silver rolling balls on the surface of one side, “or that I’m watching anyone else. Now, I’m just lost.”

“Lost?” Barbara inquires gently after a brief silence.

“Lost. Like I’m drifting across nothing. Sometimes I’m walking through an empty mall, sometimes I’m at home, there’ve been a few where I’m at Juliana’s apartment.” Valentina doesn’t look at Barbara. “But it’s always just me. Alone.”

“No one there that you know?” Barbara asks, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“No one there at all.” Valentina replies. Barbara prods softly a few times and Valentina admits that it’s like she was with someone, she can see signs of them in her dreams. Blankets and shoes and plates of food that always look as if they had just been abandoned. It’s like she had just missed them, but they had left without looking back.

“Tell me, when your family leaves for work in the morning, how do you feel?”

“Happy, sometimes, because it makes me happy to see that their lives haven’t stopped.” Valentina says.

“And the other times?” Barbara notes the way Valentina tenses, waits for her to speak patiently.

“Scared, and lonely.”

“And why is that?” Barbara stops herself from leaning forward slightly, knowing that such an action would make Valentina clam up rather than open up.

“Because they’re moving on, and I feel like I’m stuck. I’m dead weight.”

“Why do you feel that way?”

“I don’t know.” Valentina tries. Barbara clears her throat and pointedly stares at Valentina. She’d been told that saying she didn’t know was a way to escape saying what she did know, and Barbara wouldn’t let her get away with it. “Because I’m not. I don’t have a job or classes to go to. I’m just here, and I don’t know how to move on.”

“Do you think you’re ready to move on?” Barbara asks. This is where Valentina had struggled in the past few sessions. She wanted to return to life, but she was afraid of what would happen when she did. Barbara had asked that same question in every session for the past three weeks. Each time, Valentina had answered no.

“I think I’m ready to try. Something small, maybe a night course for something.” Valentina says, softly and Barbara smiles. “Do you think- is that a good idea?”

“I think it can’t hurt to try.” Barbara tells her. Valentina smiles a bit and nods. “You’ve been thinking about this, have you told anyone?”

“Not yet, but I did ask Juliana if she knew of any night classes coming up so she probably guessed why.”

“Ah, yes, Juliana,” Barbara nodded, “and how are things between the two of you?”

“It’s different,” Valentina says slowly, switching the cube in her hand for a stack of magnetic balls that begins to wrap around her finger. “I love her, and I know she loves me. But we’re not together exactly.”

“Do you want to be? You’ve told me that a big reason that you came home is to be with Juliana. Is that still true?” Barbara asks. The relationship between Valentina and Juliana intrigued her, their connection was stronger than any she had seen before. Barbara had always believed in soulmates.

“Yes, but…I’m not sure how to be with her anymore. I don’t think we can pick back up where we left off, but I don’t want to start over either.”

“You miss the way it used to be.” Barbara says wisely and Valentina nods. “Maybe she does, too. Have you asked her?” Valentina shakes her head. “Maybe you should. You don’t have to pick things up right where you left them, and I don’t think Juliana expects you to.”

“I don’t know where to begin, or how to ask her. I think that’s what I miss the most. We used to talk about everything. Now every conversation feels too heavy.”

“Then that’s where you start, a conversation.” Barbara tells her. “Talk with her, start building your relationship back up.” Barbara waits until Valentina looks back up at her with a small smile and nod before ending their session, reminding Valentina that she wanted to have the Carvajal family in for a group session soon. Valentina nodded her head and made her way out, pulling out her phone to message her brother. Valentina still felt too jumpy to drive sometimes so she had yet to renew her driver’s license.

“Val!” Juliana called her name and Valentina looked up, more surprised than startled at the sudden noise. Juliana is leaning against her car, dressed casually in jeans and red t-shirt. She looks beautiful and smiles as Valentina approaches.

“Juli,” Valentina says in greeting and they move in for a hug. It’s not as hesitant as it was a few months ago, but not as automatic as it had been before. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“My last class was cancelled,” Juliana explained, pulling back from Valentina to open the car door for her. “I thought we could grab a late lunch?” Juliana suddenly looks nervous, tapping her short nails against the window of the car.

“Lunch sounds great,” Valentina smiles, almost leaning in to kiss Juliana’s cheek. She hesitates for a second, staring at Juliana and then leans over quickly. Her lips connect with Juliana’s cheek for less than a second, but it still feels like a victory. “I’m starving.”

Juliana is still smiling when she climbs into the car and steers them off. Juliana chances as glance at Valentina when they stop at a red light and sees her leaning against the window. She looks lighter somehow, in a way that Juliana doesn’t know how to define. It’s in her eyes, Juliana thinks, the blue hues still haunted but growing clearer as Valentina allows herself to heal. It’s been a hard few months, almost six since Valentina returned to them. She’d been speaking with Barbara three times a week for the last two months. 

“So where are we going?” Valentina asks, pulling Juliana out of her thoughts. She’s looking at Juliana, her face not completely blank like it had been for so long. Juliana can see the hints of hope there now. 

“You remember that burger place in the park?” Juliana asks with a slight tilt to her lips, the corner curling into a half-smirk. She sees Valentina’s eyes brighten and Valentina nods. 

“We ate there so many times in high school,” Valentina says, her eyes grow distant for a moment. Juliana waits, pulling into a parking spot at the park and shutting of the car. She knows to give Valentina time to let the memories play out, as a part of her reconnecting. It only takes a few seconds for Valentina to come back to herself. 

“Red or blue?” Juliana asks softly after Valentina blinks a few times. Valentina smiles at her. It was another part of Valentina’s therapy, a way for her family to check on her without asking if she was okay when she came out of a flashback like this. Red meant stop, let her be, she wasn’t okay and needed to process on her own. Blue meant it was okay to continue,  that Valentina was as okay as she was going to be. The goal was to have more days where Valentina could answer blue, a goal that hadn’t been reached yet but that they hoped would be soon. 

“Blue,” Valentina replies after a second of thought. She doesn’t feel the need to be alone, her flashback wasn’t of the hard times, but of the good. Although those memories sadden her, because she knows there should be more of them, they don’t make her want to shut down. “Let’s get some food.” 

Juliana smiles at her and they both climb out of the car and meet on the sidewalk after Juls locks the doors. They walk the familiar path to the burger stand, hands occasionally brushing together as they move but neither of them feeling brave enough to reach for the other. They don’t speak, the silence between them lingering in the space between awkward and comfortable. Juliana takes it in stride, not pressuring Valentina to speak. It’s almost like it had been before, the intimacy in the way they walked together, two people inexplicably joined without even touching. Valentina wishes it would be like it was before, when being with Juliana was as easy as breathing. When it was something she didn’t have to think about, when everything felt right as long as Juliana was with her. She doesn’t know how to get back to that, or if that’s even possible to get back to. 

“How was your session?” Juliana asked after they had gotten their food and claimed a table, sharing a double serving of fries to go with their burgers. 

“Good,” Valentina answers, Juliana nods and smiles at her. She opens her mouth, ready to move on because she never expected Valentina to open up about what she spoke with Barbara about. That was something that Val had every right to keep to herself. Valentina speaks again before Juliana can change the subject. “There’s actually something we talked about today, about you.” 

“Me?” Juliana asks after swallowing the food in her mouth. Valentina nods slightly. 

“Well, us, really. Our relationship.” Valentina clarifies, swallowing slightly. 

“Oh,” Juliana wipes her hands on a napkin. 

“Yeah,” Valentina picks a loose bit of paint on the table. “It’s just, I know we’ve been in this sort of limbo. We have moments where it feels like we’re us again and then…” Valentina trails off. Juliana reaches across the table and links their hands. “I just wondered if maybe we could start again? Not from the beginning, not completely, but I want us to try. If you want to.” 

“I want to, Val. I promise,” Juliana squeezes her hand, “but are you sure you’re ready? I don’t mind waiting.” 

“I can’t ask you to wait until I’m okay, we both know that may never happen. I want to be with you, I’ve wanted to for a long time, I just didn’t know how to start.” 

“And now you do?” Juliana asks. 

“A conversation,” Valentina smiles. “We used to talk about everything. I want to get back to that, if we can.” 

“We can,” Juliana promises softly, squeezing Valentina’s hand. “And we can start with the night classes that you asked me about,” Juliana reaches for her purse with her other hand and pulls out a handful of brochures. Valentina laughs and accepts them. They finish their meal slowly, discussing the different classes Valentina might want to take before moving on, their conversation moving from topic to topic. It’s not as seamless as it used to be, there’s a few times when the conversation halts and Valentina gets that far off look in her eyes. Still, when they walk back to the car a few hours later and their hands brush together, Juliana doesn’t hesitate to tangle their fingers together. 

~

“I thought we would be meeting with Barbara?” Eva asks as she, Lucia, Guille and Juliana enter the room where Valentina is waiting for them. They aren’t in Barbara’s office but the atmosphere is similar enough that it puts Valentina at ease. 

“Barbara specializes in individual therapy,” Valentina explains. “This doesn't work the same way as that, but Barbara recommended this therapist to me, and I trust her.” 

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t have seen Camilo.” Eva grumbles again. 

“Camilo doesn’t do this sort of therapy,” Lucia reminds her, sharing a look with Eva that tells her to let it go. 

“Okay, okay, fine.” Eva takes a seat on one of the two couches in the room, the smaller of the two. Lucia sits next to her while Guille and Juliana join Valentina on the other couch. 

“Relax, Eva,” Valentina tells her sister. Juliana touches her hand gently but refrains from taking it completely. Valentina had asked her not to, not until after the session ended. It was something she and Barbara had agreed on, to limit physical contact during the session. Valentina had a tendency to stop talking about her trauma when Juliana touched her, something they had discovered when Valentina began to open up about her nightmares to Juliana, after some prodding from Barbara. They both struggled with the urge to reach out for one another, but Juliana had learned to ask when it was okay to reach out. Valentina turned her head slightly and smiled at Juliana. 

“I see that everyone is here,” a voice said from the doorway and the small group turned to see Barbara standing there with a man they didn’t recognize. “Thank you all for agreeing to come today, I’m sorry that I won’t be here with you, but this is Beltran Comancho,” Barbara gestured to the man beside her. “A friend and colleague of mine. He’s here to act as a conversation guide, as agreed to by Valentina and the two of us.” 

“It’s nice to see you again, Valentina,” Beltran greeted her as he took his seat. Barbara took a moment to remind Valentina of their agreement for this session, totally honesty no matter how much it hurts, and then took her leave as Beltran introduced himself. 

“As Barbara said, I am hear to act as a guide for all of you, to make sure you can reach an understanding. Valentina and I have spoken a few times before, and we have come to an agreement about the way we would like this conversation to proceed.” Valentina nodded along to his words. “It is my understanding that you have all been greatly affected by what happened to Valentina, and that has had an affect on your interactions. Now, the point of these sessions will be to discover why that is.” 

“Sessions?” Guille asked after a moment, and Beltran nodded. 

“As I’m sure you have learned with Valentina, it will take more than one hour long meeting to overcome years of trauma. We need to discover the roots of the issue and find a way to overcome them, in a way that will help you reconnect.” 

Beltran paused a moment and then began to outline a few simple ground rules: no lies, no interruptions and had them each make the same promise to truly try in this attempt to help Valentina by coming together as a family again. Then, the first of many emotional sessions started. 

It seemed that not even Valentina knew where to start, and despite having agreed to the honesty policy beforehand, she found herself wanting to lie about what she experienced while she was away. She glosses over the time she spent in captivity, not wanting to relive that with her family again. She’s glad that they had decided to have one person explain how they felt in each session, and then they would discuss those feelings as a group and try to understand one another’s emotions. Since they only have one group session a week, Valentina feels better about waiting for her turn. Still after a session to focus on each their emotions circles back to Valentina’s, she finds herself holding back. 

“Valentina,” Beltran says when Valentina begins to explain what happened after she woke up, “you’re holding back, we’ve discussed this. Total honesty.” 

“I know what we agreed,” Valentina says, “but I don’t want to hurt them. What happened...the things that I did, they don’t paint a pretty picture.” 

“But hurting them isn’t what you’re scared of, not really. So what is it that scares you?” Beltran asks. The family turns to look at Valentina, none of them sure what to expect. 

“I’m afraid it will be too much. They’ll see me as a monster.” Valentina doesn’t look at her family as she speaks. 

“You fear they will turn away from you, despite assurances that they won’t.” Beltran says. “Why is that?” 

“I did bad things, things that I’m not proud of. I hurt a lot of people.” Valentina replies. “I don’t know if they were all guilty or not.” 

“And how does that make you a monster?” Guille asks, taking the question right out of Beltran’s mouth. Guille looks to Beltran like he’s expecting a reprimand but Beltran simply nods and sits back, confident the conversation is back on track. 

“How does that not make me a monster?” Valentina returns uneasily. “I hurt people.” 

“Why?” Lucia asks gently. “I don’t believe that you hurt them because you wanted to, something must have made you. What was it?” 

“Does it matter? I hurt people. I…” Valentina cuts herself off and turns her head so she can’t see any of them. 

“Alacran,” Juliana says softly. “You’re talking about the warehouse and what happened to Alacran.” 

“I never wanted you to see me like that.” Valentina admits. “What I did that day, I didn’t know what else to do. He would never have let us go alive.” 

“You saved us, Vale,” Eva tells her softly. “We could never see you as a monster for that.” 

“It was an awful situation. Something that should never have happened, but it did. You got us out of there, alive. You got out of there alive. That’s all that we care about.” Lucia feels Eva take her hand and squeeze and considers pulling away. She doesn’t, something about Eva’s hand in hers helps her feel okay. 

“You aren’t a monster, Vale.” Guille tells her softly. “We would never see you as a monster, none of us.” 

Valentina nods, looking up at them with tears in her eyes. Juliana breaks their no contact rule and pulls Valentina to her, hugging her as tightly as she can manager sitting beside her. 

“You are not a monster, Valentina. You are a hero. You’re my hero.” Juliana whispers to her and she feels Valentina nod slightly. “Let us save you now, you don’t have to be a hero alone.” 

“Okay,” Valentina says and nods and pulls back. “Okay.” 

They decide to extend their group sessions after that, speaking a little more openly about their struggles. After a few weeks, Valentina realizes her family isn’t walking on eggshells around her anymore. Their hugs come naturally again, not as hesitant. They begin teasing one another again, playful jibes without fear that they’ll go too far. 

Valentina’s dreams shift again, changing so she’s with the people she loves, happy and safe. Then, they leave. Guille drives away, Eva moves half-way around the world as does Lucia. Juliana closes the door in her face and won’t open it again. Valentina calls out for them, begs them to respond, to come back and give her a chance. They never do. 

“What do you think your fear is? What are these dreams telling you?” Barbara asks in one of their sessions, just the two of them, after Valentina explains how her dreams have changed again. 

“I’m not sure. I don’t feel lost anymore. Or like I need to hide away, at least not all the time.” Valentina smiles slightly, her blue days had started out number her red and she felt better than she had in ages. 

“And yet you still have nightmares,” Barbara settles in and falls silent. Valentina picks at a loose thread on her jacket. 

“Not all the time, but when they happen I wake up angry. And scared.” 

“Who do you dream about when you wake up angry.” Barbara asks. 

“My father,” Valentina whispers slowly. 

“What happens in those dreams?” 

“The same thing that happens in the others. He’s there one second and gone the next, but then it changes. I don’t know where I am or how I got there, and I don’t know how to get back. It happens so quickly, sometimes when I wake up I can’t remember where I am.” Valentina hears Barbara make a small noise of acknowledgement. 

“You were there for your father’s last moments, and yet, you were unable to say goodbye. How does that make you feel?” Barbara asks and then sits back to wait. Valentina reaches for a Rubix cube on the table, mixes the colors and turns the pieces aimlessly. 

“I feel sad, overwhelmed.” Valentina focuses on a red colored square. “Angry.” 

“Why do you feel angry?” 

“Because he didn’t tell me why we were going to Spain. He knew about Vacio, Juliana showed me the reports he had and the story he was working on. He knew but he didn’t tell me anything.” 

“What do you think would have happened, if he had told you?” Barbara crossed her legs, folding her hands together over her knee. Valentina kept her gaze focused on the multi-colored cube in her hands. 

“We could have shared the story, at least with the police. He could have worked with someone here to bring them down.” Valentina gripped the block in her hands so hard, her knuckles stood out against her skin. “He wouldn’t have had to get on that plane.” 

“And he wouldn’t have taken you along with him.” Barbara hums slightly. “How do you feel when you think about your father?” 

“Angry,” Valentina says without pausing to think. “I feel angry.” 

“Why?” 

“Because if he had just told someone, it never would have happened. I never would have become this.” Valentina gestures at herself vaguely. “I wouldn’t have lost so much time.” 

“Valentina,” Barbara says. Valentina looks up at her for a moment and then looks away. “It’s okay to be angry at your father. I know you’re angry, and you have every right to feel that way. Do you think you’ll always be angry?” 

“I don’t want to be,” Valentina sets the half-solved puzzle box down. “But I don’t know how to forgive him.” 

“It’s okay if you can’t, Valentina. However you feel, whoever you want to blame for what happened to you, it’s okay.” 

“Is it? Isn’t everything we talked about here about learning to let go? To face what happened and learn how to accept it and move on?” 

“Do you want to move on? If you weren’t angry with your father how do you think you would feel?” 

“I don’t know. Sad, maybe.” 

“Why?” Valentina sighs at the question and Barbara waits for her to speak. 

“Because he isn’t here. He’s the only one who I really lost. When I’m angry with him,” Valentina wipes at her eyes, “I don’t feel scared that I’m going to lose someone else.” 

“Valentina, everyone is scared to lose something. It’s okay to be afraid.” 

“I don’t like being scared. I don’t like feeling angry either. But I don’t know the right way to move on.” 

“There is no right way to move on Valentina,” Barbara tells her, tapping her pen against her leg. “I think you will feel better if you let go of your anger, if you try to forgive him, it will help you. I think it will mark the end of something for you, if you let it. But that’s something that you need to decide for yourself. Just like everything else you’ve learned here, it only works if you want it to.” 

Valentina didn’t answer but Barbara didn’t seem to be expecting her to say anything anyway. 

~

“You’re quiet tonight,” Juliana comments later, watching Valentina from where she sits on the bed. It’s getting late and Juliana knows she should head home soon, but she doesn’t want to leave just yet. She hates leaving Valentina at the end of the day, but she won’t stay, not until she knows for sure that Valentina wants her to. She doesn’t want to push too hard and undo all of the progress they made together. Valentina stands by the window, facing the wall covered in the photographs she had taken, both as a child and now. The newer ones focus less on people and more on feeling, products of the photography course she had decided to take. 

Valentina hums slightly but doesn’t say anything. Juliana waits for a moment before rising from her spot and making her way over to Valentina. She watches her closely, looking for any sign of discomfort. She can’t help but feel proud of Valentina when she doesn’t tense up, even when she looks over her shoulder suddenly as Juliana approaches. 

“Blue,” she says when Juliana hesitates to touch her. Juliana’s arms circled her waist and she feels Juliana’s chin rest on her shoulder. Valentina sighs and leans into the embrace, covering Juliana’s hands on her stomach with one of her own. She feels Juliana turn her head, nuzzle against her neck for a second before placing a gentle kiss there. Valentina closes her eyes and smiles. A part of her can’t believe they’ve made it back to this point. The other part is simply happy to be in Juliana’s arms again. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Juliana asks softly. She feels Valentina deflate a bit, and turns her head to watch Valentina’s eyes flutter open. Her gaze focuses back on the photographs and Juliana traces her line of sight until she finds the photograph Valentina is focused on. 

The photograph is an old one, from before Valentina and Juliana had met. It looks like Christmas, Valentina sitting on her father’s lap, both of them sporting ridiculous antlers. Juliana can just barely make out Eva and Guille in the background of the photo, both making faces at the camera. Valentina looks happy, turned to her father with a joyous smile. Leon looks to be in the process of settling a red nose over Valentina’s. 

“It’s not important,” Valentina says, turning to look out the window. Juliana frowns. 

“Hey,” Juliana moves so she’s standing beside Val rather than behind her. Valentina looks at her, Juliana can see the hints of pain lingering in her expression even though Val tries to hide them. “We talked about this. However you feel, it’s okay. I’m not leaving.” 

“I know, I do.” Valentina closes her eyes and when they open again, Juliana can see that had let some of her guard down. “I’m just...I don’t like the way I feel about this but I don’t know if I want to make it stop.” 

“How do you feel?” Juliana asks, pulling Valentina down with her as she sits on the window seat. They lean against the wall opposite the photographs, Valentina settles with her back against Juliana’s chest, playing with their fingers over her stomach. It had been a recent shift with Valentina, wanting to feet Juliana close when she talked about her feelings but not always ready to face her. 

“Angry, and sad.” Valentina looks back up at the photographs. “Barbara said that it might help if I let go, if I forgive him for what happened. But I don’t know if I can. It’s easier, I think, to blame him for it all.” 

“Do you?” Juliana asks as lightly as she can manage. “Do you blame him for everything?” 

Valentina tenses and Juliana eases her grip, not letting go completely but ready to do just that in case Valentina decides she feels red instead of blue. Valentina feels Juliana’s hands relax their hold but doesn’t pull away. “I don’t know. I want to blame him. Blaming him makes it...easier somehow.” 

“Easier?” Juliana slowly traces her hand down Valentina’s arm in a soothing manner. 

“I’m not scared when I’m angry. It’s easier to feel angry when I’m blaming him.” 

“Is that why you don’t want to stop? You don’t want to be scared?” Juliana questions, still rubbing Valentina’s arm with one hand. 

“It’s stupid, I know.” Valentina shakes her head and starts to pull away. Juliana takes a moment to survey Valentina, making sure she’s not overstepping, before reaching out and keeping Valentina from getting up. 

“It’s not stupid, Valentina. I don’t want to be scared either, but sometimes we can’t help the way we feel.” Juliana reaches for Valentina again, seeing that she’s still blue, and carefully slides her hand through Valentina’s hair to cup her neck. Her thumb brushes gently along skin behind her ear. Valentina leans into the touch and Juliana feels proud of herself for recognizing when Valentina is comfortable being touched. 

“You’re scared?” Valentina asks, turning her head to look at Juliana. There’s a vulnerability to her eyes that almost blindsides Juliana. It’s reminiscent of the way Valentina looked before they kissed for the first time, an overwhelming mix of hope and fear written on her face. In her eyes, Juliana can see the old Valentina meeting the new, but not yet mixing. 

“I’m terrified,” Juliana tells her. “Every day when I wake, I’m scared that when I call, you won’t answer. That you’ll disappear again, and I’ll lose the best parts of me all over again.” She scoots closer to Valentina. “I’m scared that all of this is a dream and one day I’ll open my eyes and you’ll be gone. Really gone.” 

“I never realized you felt that way.” Valentina whispers, and she looks somewhat ashamed of herself, like she had forgotten that she wasn’t the only one in their relationship who suffered. 

“I didn’t want you to,” Juliana rests her free hand on Valentina’s thigh. “I didn’t want you to worry about me, you had enough on your shoulders.” 

“I always worry about you, Juls.” Valentina covers the hand Juliana rests on her leg, tangles their fingers together. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice how you felt. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.” 

“You have been,” Juliana smiles, continuing when Valentina looks at her questioningly. “You answer the phone when I call. You send me pictures and tell me how you feel. You’re here, we’re together.” Juliana leans in to rest their foreheads together. “I don’t feel scared when I’m with you, and even when I’m not, it’s getting easier to not be scared.” 

“I don’t know how to not be scared, or angry. Even when I’m happy I still feel that way.” Valentina feels her eyes fall closed. 

“One day at a time, mi amor, that’s all we can do. Face it together, one day at a time.” Juliana promises. The pet name falls from her lips before she can stop it but Valentina doesn’t seem to mind. It feels like they’ve stepped over some sort of line, a wall that each of them had been hiding behind wasn’t there anymore. 

“I love you,” Valentina whispers, nudging her nose against Juliana’s. “I know we’ve been better the last few months, and I know I still have a long way to go, but I don’t want to wait. I love you, I want to be with you again. If you still want that too?” 

“Yes, Vale,” Juliana smiles. “I love you, too. Always.” Juliana pulls back slightly to look Valentina in the eyes. “Are you sure? This is a big step, us being us again. Are you sure you’re ready?” 

“No, but I don’t think I ever will be. I’m different, I know, but I’ve learned to be okay with that.” Valentina smiles slightly. “If you don’t mind having a girlfriend who’s still a little bit messed up I want to give us a try.” 

“I don’t mind if you don’t.” Juliana tells her with a smile. It’s the truth. They’re both a little messed up, they both have fears and anger that it’s hard to let go of. They’re both different people than they were before. 

“I don’t mind at all,” Valentina says and then closes the distance between their lips. 

The kiss is slow and deep, letting them really feel each other again. The dance their lips do is new and familiar in the same breath and they linger in that space after they pull apart. It feels like a new beginning, the start of another chapter in their story. 

When Valentina stands again, sometime later, and pulls Juliana to the bed with her, Juliana doesn’t have to ask if Valentina wants her to stay. They don’t do anything more than lay together, sharing a pillow and staring into one another’s eyes until they both drift. It feels more intimate than anything they shared before. 

~

“You seem lighter now,” Eva says one day. They’re sitting at the dining room table together after breakfast, Valentina with a college application half-way filled out before her. Eva is watching her fill in the blanks, stopping occasionally when her phone lights up beside her. “I guess things with Juliana are going well?” 

“Yeah,” Valentina says, looking up at her sister. She’s been home for eleven months now. She was able to celebrate Juliana’s 22nd birthday with her, and spend Valentine’s day together. “They are.” 

Eva smiles at her sister. She’s almost like she used to be, happy if not quite as carefree. It’s a far cry from the woman who came back. Eva feels like she spent the last year meeting her sister again, learning about this person who wore her sister’s face but couldn’t have been more different from her. It warms her heart to see Valentina living again, even if she knows some days are harder than others. “I’m happy for you, both of you.” 

Valentina stops writing, looking up at Eva. There’s a question in her eyes, one that Eva waits for her to voice. 

“What was she like? While I was gone, I mean.” She asks. Eva takes a moment to consider her words, the question having not been something she expected. 

“She was sad most of the time. She didn’t smile very much, or laugh. She didn’t come around the mansion very often but I would see her at El Centro when she switched to studying journalism. Sometimes we would have lunch together, Guille or Lucia too.” Valentina listens closely, absorbing everything Eva says. “After your funeral, something in her changed. She seemed, I don’t know, lonely still but not as broken. Not as lost.” 

“You worried about her?” Valentina asks. She sets her pen down and leans both arms on the table as Eva nods. 

“I did, Lucia too.” Eva looks conflicted for a moment but then expression clears again. “We worried that she was overworking herself. She didn’t seem to want to make friends, or even try to. She went to class and did her work and then she spent the rest of her time searching for you. Until Lucia found that report in Dad’s office, we thought she was just in denial. I’m so glad we were wrong.” 

“You thought I was gone. Really gone.” 

“We didn’t know what else to think,” Eva smiles sadly. “When they called off the search, thinking you were gone was easier than thinking you were still out there, alone and scared where we couldn’t reach you. But, Juls, she,” Eva shakes her head slightly. “I’ve never seen someone more sure of anything. I don’t know how, but she knew you were still out there and she was determined to bring you home.” 

“You still doubted her?” Valentina said, reading Eva’s expression. 

“For a little bit, yes. It was so hard to believe, but I guess it was silly of me to doubt her. I’ve never seen two people love each other the way you do. It’s amazing, and eye-opening to watch.” Eva falls silent, looking down at her nails. Valentina watches her for a second, her brow furrowing in confusion before realization lights up her eyes. 

“You’re in love with someone, aren’t you?” Valentina says. Eva’s eyes widen and snap up to meet hers. She looks panicked and Valentina offers her a comforting smile. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me who it is. I understand being afraid to love.” 

This time, it’s Eva who looks confused. “You were afraid to love? Juliana?” 

“Not when we were younger, no,” Valentina explains. “But after I came back, yes. I never stopped loving her, loving Juliana helped me stay strong. But loving Juliana also put her in danger. I was scared that if I showed her how much I cared, she would be hunted. You heard what Alacran said, at the warehouse,” Valentina feels her muscles tense as the memories of that night come back to her. Eva waits patiently as Valentina breathes through it, holding herself steady. When she seems okay, Eva reaches out and touches Valentina’s hand. Valentina smiles at her, a small smile but one that said so much. “It took me a long time to let myself love her again, sometimes I still don’t think I should.” 

“But you can’t help it.” Eva says and Valentina nods. 

“No, she’s the only person I’ve ever wanted to love. I know what it’s like to love her and not be with her, and it was awful. I’d much rather we face our fears together.” 

“What if you have to face more than fears? What if loving someone creates a scandal?” Eva asks. 

“Face that together, too.” Valentina shrugs. “I’m sure Lucia wouldn’t mind, as long as you stayed together.” 

Eva felt her mouth drop open in surprise. “How did you know?” 

“I spent three years learning how to read people, how to find the secrets they don’t want to get out. I don’t mean to, but I can’t seem to turn that off. Barbara says it’s become a line of defense for me, but that people watching, as she called it, isn’t all that uncommon. Most of human communication is non-verbal anyway, I’ve just learned to read it.” Valentina smiles at her sister. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, and the way she looks at you. Just...don’t hold yourself back. Being scared? That’s okay, but maybe you should be scared together instead of worried apart.” 

“You’re much wiser than I give you credit for.” Eva says. Valentina smiles at her and then turns back to the paperwork on the table. 

“Let’s hope the university feels the same way,” Valentina jokes. “Help me finish this before Juliana gets here, I want to surprise her.” 

Eva smiles and let’s her sister use her as a sounding board while she fills out the applications. It doesn’t take very long and Eva has the stack of papers sealed in an envelope and hidden in her purse long before Juliana arrives. 

“Hey mi amor,” Juliana says as she enters the living room where Valentina and Eva moved to after finishing the paperwork. She walks behind the couch to where Valentina sits, pausing to kiss her head, before walking around to sit beside her. “Eva, take the day off?” 

“Didn’t feel like dealing with cranky old men, Guille is much better suited to those meetings.” Eva says, smiling. Juliana laughs her agreement and tucks herself against Valentina. “Your showcase is tonight, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah, which seems ridiculous to me,” Juliana shifted to get more comfortable against Valentina, “what’s the point of a showcase for a paper? Who’s going to stop to read the whole thing?” 

“It’s a big night, chiquita, maybe you’ll get a research grant or something. Wouldn’t that be a fun thing to do for your senior year?” Valentina wraps her arm around Juliana’s waist. 

“Maybe,” Juliana says, “but I’d rather stay home and watch a movie. I can worry about my senior year after this one ends.” 

“We can watch a movie,” Valentina says, “after the showcase.” 

Eva makes her way out of the room as Juliana grumbles under her breath, content to let her sister and her girlfriend spend their time together until they have to get ready for the showcase. As she walks towards her bedroom, her mind drifts back to her conversation with Valentina that morning. 

She would never have guessed that Valentina was afraid to love Juliana, even after what happened in the warehouse. But, then again, she would never have guessed that the carefree girl her sister was would turn into the loving but guarded woman she is. Love changed Valentina, became a weapon that someone tried to use against her. Then, it became a gift, again, something sacred that she shared with another person. Eva wished she had the same strength  that Val did, the strength to love and live out loud. 

“Eva?” She turns when a voice calls her name. Lucia stands in her doorway, looking beautiful but unsure. 

“Lucia,” Eva says. “Hey.” 

“Is everything okay?” Eva shakes her head, holding her hand out. Lucia looks at her carefully and then starts to come forward, taking her hand. 

“I don’t know, but maybe it can be,” Eva says, pulling Lucia further into the room and closing the door. Maybe Valentina was right, they could be scared together. 

“You look beautiful, chiquita,” Valentina says as she wraps her arms around Juliana from behind. They’re both dressed for the showcase, Juliana wearing a beautiful dark blue dress with silver accents, and Valentina wearing black slacks paired with a white blouse. Her leather jacket rests on the bed, waiting until they leave so Val can slip it on. 

“So do you,” Juliana turns in her arms, sliding her own around Valentina’s waist. She leans in her a kiss, her hand sliding further up Valentina’s back as she does. Her fingertips meet slightly raised skin and Valentina tenses. “I’m sorry.” 

Valentina shakes her head, holding Juliana’s arms steady when she tries to pull away. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it.” 

It’s not the first time Juliana has touched her scars, but Valentina can’t pretend that it doesn’t affect her. It’s difficult for her not to react, a part of her scared that once Juliana’s perfect hands touch her back, she’ll decide that Valentina isn’t beautiful enough to be loved. She’s spoken about the issue with Barbara many times in their now once a week sessions, but she hasn’t been able to overcome the fear. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Juliana apologizes again. 

“I know, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.” Valentina lets go of Juliana and sits down on the bed. She holds her head in her hands, sighing as she feels Juliana’s hands on her thighs. Juliana kneels in front of her, leaving one hand on Valentina’s thigh to help her keep balance and using the other to cup Valentina’s face. 

“Hey, look at me baby,” Juliana whispers softly. Valentina opens her eyes but doesn’t lift her head. “Listen to me, I know you think your scars are ugly, I do. I understand. It’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to feel like this when you touch me.” 

“Baby, you don’t have to apologize for anything.” Juliana tells her, wiping Valentina’s tears away. 

“I miss you, I miss being with you. But everytime I think about us, I-” Valentina cuts herself off with a small sob. Juliana moves to sit beside her, pulling her into a hug. 

“Valentina,” Juliana begins softly. “I won’t pretend that I don’t miss that, too. I do. I miss feeling you against me, connecting with you that way. But, mi amor, I don’t need to have sex with you to be happy.” 

“But you miss it,” Valentina mumbled against Juliana’s neck. Juliana nodded. 

“I do, but you know what else I miss? The pan my mom used to make when I was a kid. I miss my first bike. I miss walking around school wearing your letterman.” Juliana chuckles slightly. “There’s a lot of things I miss, things that may never happen again. Things that may happen tomorrow. It doesn’t mean I’m not happy without them.” Juliana cards her fingers through Valentina’s hair. “I missed you, more than I thought I could miss anything. I can handle having you with me and not having sex.” 

“But you want to, again.” Valentina says and starts to pull away. Juliana won’t let her go completely. 

“Of course, I do. I love being with you like that. I’ve never shared that connection with anyone else and I never want to. If you don’t want to have sex, then we won’t. That won’t make us any less in love.” 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that again,” Valentina whispers. “But I don’t want to lose you.” 

“You won’t, Val. I’m not going anywhere.” Juliana kissed the top of Valentina’s head. “I’m right here with you, mi amor, forever.” 

“Pacto?” Valentina requests softly, holding her pinky finger out. Juliana smiles and wraps her own pinky around Val’s. 

“Pacto.” 

~

“Val?” Juliana mumbles, feeling her girlfriend shifting in the bed. She doesn’t know what time it is, doesn’t even remember falling asleep. It had been an emotional day, for all of them, but she knew it was worse for Valentina. The anniversary of the day Valentina came home had her emotions on edge. She had been switching between blue and red the whole day, sometimes without warning. It had been difficult for Juliana to sit back when Valentina suddenly went red, but she held herself together. Val needed her, they needed each other. 

Juliana rubs at her eyes, trying to wake herself up as Valentina continues to move. She hears a whimper, and then another. A whisper of her name. 

“Juls,” Juliana sits up, turning over to look at Valentina then. Her concern grows when she sees that Valentina is drenched in sweat, the blankets thrown off her body and gripping the sheets so tight Juliana can see her knuckles stand out against her skin. 

“Val, Valentina,” Juliana calls her name softly. Val whimpers in response, her head turning from side to side. 

“No,” her voice comes out a shaky mumble. “Not her. Please.” 

“Val, baby, wake up.” Juliana tries again, and starts to reach out. 

Before her can make contact with Valentina, the woman releases a harsh cry and wakes up, leaping from the bed. 

“NO!” Valentina cries, landing on her feet and whirling to face the bed even as she falls, backing into the corner with her arms raised over her head. She looked like she was trying to make herself as small as possible, hiding behind her arms. 

“No,” she says again, a sob rather than a cry. 

“Oh, Val,” Juliana whispers as she crawls out of bed. She kneels a few feet from Val, speaking in a low soothing tone. “Valentina, honey, it’s me. It’s Juliana. Can you hear me?” 

“It’s not real, it’s not real.” Valentina rocks back and forth slightly, Juliana can see that she’s shaking. 

“I’m real, amor, I’m right here. I promise. Val, can you look at me?” Valentina slowly lifts her head, still partially hiding but Juliana can see the blue of her eyes. “Good, that’s good, Val. Just focus on me.” 

“Juls, I-I don’t know what,” Valentina pants harshly, looking around. Juliana can tell that she hasn’t yet realized where she is, and her panic is making it hard for her to breath. 

“Mirame, Val, baby, you need to breathe. Copy me. Okay? In and out, slowly. That’s good, you’re doing great, Val.” Juliana takes a cautious step forward. “Slow and steady, just like that.” 

“Juliana, I’m scared, I see-” Val cuts herself off, curling in on herself. 

“What do you see?” Juliana asks, stopping her movements towards Valentina. 

“It’s too dark, I don’t know where the shadows are.” Valentina hides her eyes again. Juliana moves to her left, turns on the lamp on the bedside table. She moves around the bed, and turns on the main light in the room. With the lights on, she can see the traces of sweat on Valentina, the way her hair sticks to her skin. 

“Val, mi amor, look at me. Tell me where the shadows are.” Juliana requests softly, kneeling before her again. She’s close enough that she can touch Valentina, but doesn’t reach out just yet. She waits as Valentina opens her eyes again, watches her look around the illuminated room. Her gaze slips in and out of focus until she finally settles her gaze on Juliana. 

“They-They’re gone.” Valentina says, slowly lowering her arms. “They’re, Juliana, I-” Valentina shakes her head as Juliana moves so they sit side-by-side. Juliana waits until Valentina leans into her, the silent signal that she’s okay with being touched, before wrapping both her arms around Valentina and pulling her into her lap. 

“I’m here, I’ve got you.” Juliana promises, rubbing Valentina’s arms and back in soothing motions. She can feel the way Valentina’s clothes cling to her skin, feel the outlines of the scars on her back and makes sure her hand doesn’t linger there for too long. “I’ve got you.” 

“I’m sorry.” Valentina mumbles against Juliana’s neck. 

“Shh, Val, it’s okay. We’re okay. We’re safe.” Juliana kisses her temple, holds her tighter. 

“I was back there, the first time. With Alacran.” Valentina says after a long silence. She’s not shaking so much, but silent tears still fall from her eyes. “I was chained up when they brought you in. I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t do anything. They just kept hurting you. When they did touch me, I could feel your blood on their hands.” 

“What do you need?” Juliana asks softly, cupping the back of Valentina’s head. 

“I can still feel it, feel you I-I don’t know what to do.” Valentina presses herself closer to Juliana, clinging to her. 

“Okay, okay,” Juliana maneuvers her hands into a better position and then carefully rises to her feet, craddeling Valentina to her chest. “I have an idea. Do you trust me?” 

“I trust you,” Valentina whispers, after Juliana doesn’t move when Valentina nods her head. 

“Okay,” Juliana walks them into the bathroom, pausing to turn on the lights and then setting Valentina on the closed toilet seat. She starts to pull away but stops when Valentina clings to her. “Hey, I’m right here, Valentina. Take my hand,” she holds her hand out for Valentina, who takes it and laces their fingers together. “I’m just going to turn on the shower, okay?” 

Valentina nods, turning with Juliana as she moves to the shower. Their arms stretch as far as they can go but Juliana manages to turn the shower on and set the temperature without breaking their connection. 

“Okay, the shower is on.” Juliana turns back to Valentina. “Do you want me to help with your clothes?” Valentina nods her head, then agrees verbally when Juliana asks again. Juliana helps her remove her t-shirt, shorts and underwear and leads her to the shower. Valentina hesitates for a moment, turning to Juliana before she steps under the water. 

“Will you stay with me?” 

“Of course,” Juliana quickly removes her own clothing from her body and steps into the shower with Valentina. They stand under the spray for a moment, Valentina with her eyes closed. Juliana asks if she wants help washing off, and then proceeds to rub down Valentina’s body, gently washing away the physical traces of Valentina’s nightmare. She tells Valentina where she’s going to touch her and waits for Valentina to acknowledge her words before moving. The process is slow going but Juliana can feel Valentina start to relax. Juliana washes the back of Valentina’s body the same way, feeling Valentina shiver as she washes her lower back. When she’s done, Valentina stands under the water, breathing deeply. When Juliana reaches around her to grab the bottle of shampoo, Valentina catches her hand and uses it to wrap Juliana’s arms around her waist. 

Juliana steps closer then, pressing her front to Valentina’s back. Valentina gasps slightly at the contact but leans into her, ducking her head down slightly. Juliana wraps her other arm around Valentina’s waist and presses a kiss against her shoulder. They stand like that for a long, silent moment, the soft plinks of water hitting their bodies the only noise in the room. Juliana keeps her breaths slow and steady, feeling Valentina match her breath for breath. Juliana feels Valentina shift slightly, turning in her arms until they’re face to face. 

She simply stares at Juliana for a moment, her face completely open for Juliana to read. Valentina had lowered her guard completely, and was letting Juliana see everything she felt. Her fear, her anger, her hope, her love. A million words written in the blue of her eyes that Val didn’t know how to say. She didn’t need to voice the words anyway. She could see every answer, every response to her feelings in Juliana’s eyes. Juliana’s fear, anger, hope. Juliana’s love, written so clearly it was like seeing a rose in bloom, capturing all of Valentina’s attention. 

Juliana turned off the water and wrapped them each in a towel before leading Valentina back into the bedroom. She starts to move to the dresser to grab a fresh set of pajamas for each of them but Valentina stops her. 

“I need to feel you.” Valentina says softly. “Is that okay?” 

“Yes,” Juliana offers Valentina a smile, walks them over to the bed. As Valentina climbs into the bed, Juliana asks, “Do you want to keep the lights on?

“Not all of them, just this one,” Valentina gestures to the lamp on the bedside table. 

“Okay,” Juliana smiles softly at her and reaches to turn the main light off. When she turns back to Valentina, she sees her tossing the damp towel to the floor. She feels nervous suddenly, and she can tell Valentina feels the same way from the way she rubs her fingers against the blankets. 

“Hey,” Juliana says as she slides into bed, “do you want me to hold you? I can leave my towel on.” 

“No,” Valentina shakes her head. “I mean, yes, I want you to hold me. I just…” she sighs softly. Juliana nods, and removes her towel before laying back against the pillows. 

“Here,” Juliana opens her arms for Valentina to settle into her embrace. Valentina settles against her slowly and Juliana cups the back of her head. “Red or blue?” 

“What?” 

“Feel where my hand is. Red or blue?” Juliana says again, gently touching Valentina’s hair. 

“Oh,” Valentina sighs, “Blue,” 

“Okay,” Juliana moved her hand to Valentina’s hip, curling her fingers over her hip bone. “Red or blue?” 

“Blue,” Valentina says again, relaxing further into Juliana. She feels Juliana nod her head and then her hand moves again. 

“Red or blue?” Juliana asks, her hand resting on the small of Valentina’s back, over her scars. It’s the place where her hand naturally falls when she holds Valentina this way, which hadn’t been a problem so far as long as Valentina had been wearing a shirt. “It’s okay if the answer is red.” 

Valentina presses closer to Juliana, kissing her neck softly. “Blue.” 

“Blue?” Juliana feels Valentina nod her head, Valentina’s hand settles over her stomach. 

“Blue.” 

~

It takes four and a half weeks for Valentina to feel okay again. She didn’t have nightmares every night, but when she did, they were just as vivid and disorienting as the first one. She woke up covered in sweat and shaking, too scared to look at her hands because she was certain they would be stained red with Juliana’s blood. She tells Barbara about her dreams, about the ways Juliana helps her recover each time, about how she feels guilty for waking up Juliana and needing so much help each time. Barbara let’s her talk through the issue, until she feels like she’s ready to talk to Juliana about the same. 

“Vale, I want you to wake me up when things like this happen. It’s not a burden,” Juliana tells her, fingertips lightly tracing over Valentina’s nose and cheekbones. They’re laying in bed together when Valentina brings up the issue, facing one another with little space between their bodies. “You’re not a burden. I want to help you, I want you to know you can come to me for help, just like I know I can come to you.” Juliana kissed her nose then. “We’re partners. That’s how this works.” 

“I know,” Valentina moved closer to Juliana, tucking her head into the crook of Juliana’s neck. “I still feel guilty about it.” She feels Juliana sigh, and a part of her feels even worse but she can’t help the way she feels. 

“I know,” Juliana presses their lips together then, softly. “I know and it’s okay that you feel that way. I just - I’ll feel guilty too, if I’m not there to help you.” 

“You will?” Valentina’s tone betrays her surprise and she pulls away from Juliana enough to look her in the eyes. She rests her head on the pillow they’d been sharing, watching Juliana roll the words she wants to say around in head before she speaks. 

“I wasn’t there, for three years you had to deal with all of this, all alone.” Juliana says. She feels Valentina’s hand on her waist, thumb rubbing a soothing motion along the strip of skin revealed from where her t-shirt had ridden up slightly. “I know your nightmares aren’t a new thing, and it kills me that you had to face them on your own.” 

“What do you mean?” Valentina asks softly, certain that she had never mentioned the nightmares she had while she was away, not to anyone other than Barbara. 

Juliana took a deep breath and then told Valentina about the conversation she had with Maya, nearly a year ago before Valentina had even seemed like she wanted to get better. Valentina looked shocked at the revelation, both that Maya had known about her dreams and about Maya’s true feelings for her. 

“When I think about all the times you reached for me, and I wasn’t there, I just can’t help but feel guilty. I know it wasn’t something we could control, but I still hate knowing we were so far apart and still reaching for each other, knowing the other wouldn’t be there.” Juliana reached out, brushing Valentina’s hair away from her shoulder and cupping her neck, just to feel her skin, her warmth and remind herself that they had somehow made it past all that. “I want you to feel like you can reach for me. I want you to know that I’ll be here.” 

“I do,” Valentina whispers, wiggling closer to Juliana so their fronts are pressed together. Her hand slips to Juliana’s back, fingers splayed across warm skin in an effort to press closer. “I know you’re there. I just -” Valentina cuts herself off and looks away. Juliana touches her chin gently, asking her to look into her eyes again. “I don’t want our relationship to be just about you helping me. I want us to be us again, without constantly thinking about all the time we didn’t have together.” 

“Okay,” Juliana says softly, because even though she wants to argue that their relationship isn’t just about Valentina, she knows that whatever she says won’t change the way Valentina feels and might make her close up again, which is the last thing Juliana wants. Instead, Juliana says, “what if we think about the good times we had together?” 

“I don’t want to be stuck in the past, Juls.” Valentina protests and Juliana shakes her head lightly. 

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Juliana pulls away slightly and throws the blankets off their bodies. “Come with me?” She requests when she’s on her feet beside the bed, hand extended to Valentina. Valentina pulls herself from the bed and takes the offered hand. Juliana leads them to living room, directing Valentina to sit on the couch while she heads to the bookshelf near the window. 

“Juls?” Valentina questions when Juliana sits beside her, three black photo albums in her hands. Valentina recognizes them instantly, the first being the one she had gifted Juliana their first Christmas together. It was their story. 

“We’ve been so focused on the bad three years,” Juliana says, sliding the albums labeled two and three back and pulling the first one to the forefront. “Maybe we need to remember the good ones, too.” 

She pulls Valentina close and opens the first album, greeted with the smiling faces of their fifteen year old selves, immortalized in the pages. The first few are from the park where they met, sitting at the bench or standing beneath a tree, some selfies they had taken where even then they looked at each other a little too long to be just friends. Next comes the ones from the Carvajal mansion, some taken during their swim lessons or movie nights. Valentina brushes her fingers against the photo Guille had taken of them, the night before they officially got together. 

“I still can’t believe your brother took this creeper picture of us,” Juliana giggles. Valentina cracks a half smile, looking at their forms curled together. The bruises that had adorned Juliana’s face at the time were hidden from view, but when Valentina looks up at Juliana’s face, she can see the scar from the encounter. It’s small, not noticeable unless you knew what to look for. 

“I’m glad he did,” Valentina leans further into Juliana as they continue looking through the photographs. They trade stories and memories as they progress through their walk down memory lane, sometimes commenting on Eva and Guille or Lucia’s expression in the photographs, and pausing for a long moment on a picture of Leon and Val that had been taken the summer before they left. 

The last picture was from their third anniversary, a mere two months before Valentina had disappeared. They had taken it at the Valle House, laying together under a blanket in front of the fire. The photo had been taken by Val, her arm extended out of the frame. Their bodies were pressed close together, bare, Juliana remembered. She had her nose buried against Valentina’s collar bone, eyes closed. Valentina had her lips pressed against Juliana’s forehead, eyes closed and the barest hint of a lovemark half hidden beneath Juliana’s hair. 

“We didn’t even make it to the bedroom that night.” Valentina laughs softly, tracing her fingertip over the photograph. 

“It was our anniversary,” Juliana shrugged, unashamed, “We were together, happy, safe. Having a bed was optional.” She chuckles lightly, rubbing Valentina’s back when she leans into her. Valentina hums slightly, turning her head to kiss Juliana’s neck gently. She feels the gulp Juliana tires to conceal and pulls back. 

“What about now?” Valentina asks, moving the photo album from Juliana’s lap and taking it’s place. “Is having a bed still optional?” 

Juliana nods mutely, pupils blown and eyes dark with desire as her hands land on Val’s bare thighs. She swallows thickly when Valentina’s hands slide up her arms. Juliana forces herself to lean back slightly, trying to keep herself from getting to excited. It’s not the first time she and Val had been in a position like this, even if the Valentina had stopped them long before hands slipped beneath clothing. She doesn’t want Valentina to feel pressured. However, when she leans back, Valentina follows, resting their foreheads together. 

“Val,” her name escapes Juliana’s lips on a breathless whisper. “Are you sure?”” 

“Yes,” Valentina presses closer, fingers teasing at Juliana’s skin. “You were right, we’re too focused on the bad times. I’m too focused on what we lost, I’m forgetting what we can have again.” 

“We don’t need to have sex to have that again.” Juliana tells her, but it takes all of her focus to keep from flexing her hands against Valentina’s legs and pulling her closer. 

“I know,” Valentina brushes their lips together, a ghost of a kiss that still manages to leave them both breathless. “I want too. I want to be with you like that again. I miss you.” 

“If you want to stop, if it’s too much…” Juliana feels Valentina’s nod. 

“I’ll tell you, I promise.” Valentina kisses her again, tangling her fingers in Juliana’s hair and pressing their bodies together. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” Juliana replied and this time when they kissed, she allowed her hands to roam. She moved slowly, waiting for any indication that Val was uncomfortable, as Juliana’s hands slipped beneath her top. She felt Valentina shudder slightly, but instead of pulling away, Valentina pressed closer. Her hands travelled down Juliana’s torso until her fingers found the hem of her shirt. She pulls up, Juliana letting go of her just long enough to lift her arms and get the shirt off. 

Juliana whimpers slightly when Valentina’s hands brush against her breasts, feeling a rush of her that settles in her core. She tugs at Valentina’s shirt, the silent question answered when Valentina lifts her arms without disconnecting their lips. Once the shirt is gone Juliana takes the opportunity to press kisses along Valentina’s collarbone and then moves lower, tracing over the rise of Val’s breast. She feels Valentina’s fingers in her hair and along her back, burning into her skin. 

“Juliana,” Val whispers softly when she pulls back slightly, both of their chests heaving. Juliana looks up into her eyes, reaching with one hand to cup Valentina’s cheek. “Love me, please. Let me love you. Help me let go of the past. Help me make new memories.” 

Juliana nods her head, leaning into kiss Valentina on the lips, letting their tongues dance together slowly. Valentina clings to her, pressing impossibly close. She feels Juliana’s hands travel down her torso, around her waist and settle beneath her bottom. Juliana pushes herself to her feet, Valentina’s legs wrapping around her waist as she walks them back to the bedroom. Juliana gently sets Valentina down on the edge of the bed kneeling before her. Her hands rest over Valentina’s short-covered hips, silent question in her eyes. Valentina rises slightly, just enough for Juliana to slide the remaining of her clothes off her body. Once they’re gone, Valentina scoots backwards, laying against the pillows with her eyes focused on Juliana. 

Juliana stands, her own shorts sliding off her hips and leaving her bare. She watches Valentina’s eyes slide over her skin, taking in every part of her as she does the same to Valentina. She takes the time to appreciate what she sees, comparing the body she remembers to the one before her now. She can’t deny the differences there, the new scars, the harder muscles were Valentina used to be so soft, but she can’t wait to learn her all over again. 

She crawls on to the bed, hovering over Valentina as she presses their lips together, until Valentina grows tired of the space between them and pulls Juliana down on top of her. They moan as their bodies come in contact again, sliding together in an old dance that feels so new. Juliana remembers Valentina’s request, to love her and to let her lover Juliana again and follows it as best she can. She loves Valentina, with her hands and lips and soul, mapping out her skin again, remembering the places that made Valentina moan or sigh, whimper and gasp. She lets Valentina do the same, feeling her body respond to Valentina’s fingers against her, ever moan and whisper of her name sounding like heaven to her ears. 

When they settle together, spent and sweaty but feeling closer than they had in years, Juliana feels the last of the hurt in her heart fade into a scar, one that she’ll carry with her always. One that matches the scar in Valentina’s heart, one that reminds them of what they lost and what they got back. 

“I love you,” Juliana whispers, kissing Valentina’s shoulder softly. She feels Valentina shift in her arms, turning over to connect their lips. 

“I love you, too.” 

Valentina feels like she’s really come home. Even if she has nightmares sometimes and doesn’t always know how to say what she feels anymore, she’s home. She knows who she is again, and she knows who she loves. 

That, Valentina thinks as she feels Juliana settle into her arms, her body relaxing as sleep takes over, is worth all the scars she carries. 

[asphodelsandpomegranates]

Always Be There (Collin Hoskins [Blindspotting] x Reader)

@terrazure   cause I promised them I would. 

You'd been there for Collin through thick and thin. You'd been there for Miles as well. But most of the time you'd always been there for Collin. You'd met him when you three were in college and they'd been skipping classes just hang out at the park and 'busting rhymes'. It hadn't been too hard to miss them, especially Miles – loud mouth that he is. Shouting at the tops of their voices, making some people gawk at them. You'd been fascinated by them. Just watching them let the words come out of their mouths so easily, as though they were saying it off by heart. When they'd gotten close to you, Miles had stumbled a little, trying to think of what to say next. Then, for some reason, you'd cut in. The two males stared at you. And from that moment, you'd been friends. Even though, you had been friends with the two, you'd always felt closer with Collin. Soon the friendship had grown into a one sided love for the male.

Then two things happened that completely changed your life.

First, you'd found out that Collin had gotten himself a girlfriend. The night you'd met her, you'd tried your best to be happy for Collin but it didn't work. You complained of a headache and said your goodbyes. Ashley, Miles' girlfriend, said she would go with you. In the taxi, she got you to confess your feelings for him.

Then the world flipped again when Ashley told you about Collin's arrest. You hurried down to the station to find him in one of the holding cells. Val, his so-called girlfriend, had not set foot inside. After your visit, you stormed off to find Miles and almost beaten him to a pulp, shouting curse words at the top of your voice, berating him, screaming that Miles should have been in that jail cell with him.

“Some bloody friend you are!”

“(Y/N), I'm sorry. It just got out of hand.”

“Out of hand?! Out of fucking hand!?!?”

The shouting had escalated and had become so loud that it woke Ashley's son. You'd ran out in tears.

Since Collin had convicted, you visited him when you were able to. Sometimes with Miles, or Ashley, just sometimes alone. It made you happy to see that he was okay. To know that he was safe. According to Miles, Val never visited. Not that you were bothered by this. Just to know he was fine and doing as he was told in order to get out, you were happy. Once he was out, you happily went to see Collin out of prison. As soon as he was near, you hugged him for dear life, not wanting to let go. You both went to the safe house for him to get settled in and the next day, you both went to see Miles, Ashley and their son.

As time went by, and for Collin it seemed too slow, you helped him get back on his feet; although you'd not been happy when Collin had landed himself a job in the same vicinity as his ex.

Collin deserved better.

On the last day of Collin's probation, everything spiralled for you. Again.

You were sitting at the kitchen table with Ashley as she calmed herself down. Thankfully, Sean was in bed asleep.

“Why the fuck would that moron bring a gun into this house?” you asked, incredulously.

“Fuck knows why.” Ashley hissed, wiping away her tears. “Stupid hipster wannabe trying to act tough, thinking a gun is the best option.”

“The gun wasn't loaded was it?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Shit.” you breathed. “Why didn't Collin talk him out of it?”

“You know what Miles is like: goes in one ear and out the other.”

“So, they're both getting rid of the gun?”

“Yeah. I hope so, anyway.”

Suddenly, you both heard the front door slam open and closed and the hurry of footsteps.

“Babe?”

It was Miles.

“What have you done now, you asshole?” Ashley snapped.

You both looked round to see Miles standing there, a few cuts on his face and hands. And he was alone.

Ashely's eyes widened at the state he was in. “What the fuck?”

Ashley bounded over to him. You looked behind Miles, right at the doorway, waiting for Collin to follow on behind. But as the seconds passed, Collin never showed up.

“Where's Collin?” you asked, not taking your eyes off that one spot.

“He walked off after we argued.”

You stared at Miles. “And you didn't follow him?” Your heart was racing, your stomach churning into knots. “You mean that he's still out there?! With that officer?!”

“(Y/N), I'm sure he's fine. He's just...”  

But what else Miles said you didn't hear. Everything was muffled, Miles talking, the every now and then traffic that went by. Your breath was becoming hitched, uneven, too quick.

You were hyperventilating!

“(Y/N)? (Y/N), can you hear me? Look at me.”

You tried to hold on to Ashley's voice as the panic attack rang through you. Your vision was obscured...

...Then everything went black for you.

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

You woke up in a small room with a curtain shutting off the outside world to you. But you weren't alone. Ashley was there, sitting at your bedside. She glanced over at you and smiled when she noticed you were awake.

“Morning, sleepy head.” she chirped.

“H-hey.” you said, groggily. “What-what happened?”

“You passed out on us, sweetie.”

“I passed out?”

“Yeah, you had us worried.”

“Where's Miles?”

“Staying at home with Sean.”

“And does Collin...?”

“Yes, I rang him when we got here. He's worried but he's coming to see you tomorrow...if you're still here.”

“And he's o-okay?”

“Yeah, he's fine. He's home, safe and sound.”

You nodded.

The doctor came in with Ashley on his heels and checked you over. He told you that the fainting spell had been brought on by stress and resulted in a panic attack enough to make you pass out. They also wanted to keep you in for overnight observation until you were better.

You said goodbye to Ashley as you were being transferred to a small ward and slept well knowing that Collin was safe.

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

The next morning, you woke up to find a sleeping Collin by your bed. He was leaning over at your bedside with his head on top of his folded arms. He looked so peaceful. You shuffled onto your left side, being careful not to disturb him and gently ran your fingers through his braids. But sensation made him stir.

He blinked his eyes awake and looked up at you. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry. Didn't know I fell asleep.”

“It's okay. Are you okay? What happened last night with you and Miles?”

“We got into an argument and I went off home. I just...I just reached boiling point and...”

He trailed off. Noticing his discomfort, you cupped his cheek and soothed it with your thumb.

“And then Ashley called me when I was home and I've been nothing but worried.”

“You don't have to be worried about me, Collin. As long as you're safe--.”

“But I do anyway. (Y/N), you've always been by my side. You've always been a good friend to me, (N/N). I honestly don't know how you can put up with me.”

“With a lot of alcohol.” you teased.

Collin laughed at your joke. After a small comfortable silence, he spoke again.

“(Y/N), there's something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“I...I...I really don't know how to put this but...since I was in prison, I've...I've started to feel something for you.”

“You-you mean?”

“I think it maybe more than friendship.” Collin said. “I know I've put you through a lot. And I can't believe it's taken me this long to figure it out.”

You slowly sat up, your body aching with lack of movement from the night before. You stared at Collin, bewilderedly what he had said. “You-you—?”

“I understand if you don't feel the same way.”

“Don't feel the same way?! Collin, I've had feelings for you, longer than you had feelings for Val. I've loved you since we'd left college. When you introduced me to Val, I was heartbroken. Didn't you even notice how off I was that day? Ashley could see it a mile away. But I still wanted to be near you despite you and Val being together. Did it not even occur to you when I always coming to prison, no matter what day it was, I was always came? I had to know if you were okay. When you were locked away, I was constantly worried for you. Throughout this whole parole, I've been worried about you. Almost making myself sick because I still loved you and I was always thinking of you. I've been terrified that I was going to lose you again, and since that guy got shot I've been scared shitless because I thought you'd be next.”

You could feel tears coming down your cheeks as you spoke, your vision blurring but it didn't stop you from talking.

“I was scared that I wouldn't see you again if that cop saw you, recognised you and put bullets in you. I've been scared that you would never feel the same about me. That you loved Val, more than you loved me. So, yes, Collin, I do love you--.”

Collin sprang in his seat, moving in towards you and hugging you, tightly. The tears spilling from your eyes and you clung to him, desperately. He was hushing you, stopping you from crying.

“Don't make yourself even more ill, babe. I'm not really that worth it.”

“You've always been worth it.” you whimpered, trying to steady yourself to breathe calmly.

When he managed to calm you down, you pulled back a little, allowing Collin to brush the tears away with his thumb.

“And so are you, (Y/N). I'm an idiot for not realising sooner.”

“You're not an idiot, sweetie.”

“Yeah, but I'm yours.”

Giggling at his terrible joke, you pulled him in for your first kiss.

[groovydudeharry-blog]

A Birthday Dance

A highschool!au set in the 70's.

Word count: 4.2k+

(A/N: Hey! So I wrote this with the intention of it being set in 1977, although I don’t think I did a fantastic job of conveying that (I tried ok) so it’s pretty easy to just imagine it however you’d like! ALSO I wrote this both on my laptop and my phone where the spell check/grammar check is different so please excuse any switches between british spelling and american spelling. Please let me know what you think, I’d really appreciate it. Hope you like it!)

--

December 1st, 1977. Tilly's 17th Birthday. It would be like most days if not for the crazy amount of balloons and streamers decorating the living room, where she sits in her pyjamas carefully unwrapping the bow tied around the box in her lap. Tilly's never been one to worry too much over her birthday, her parents however (more specifically her Mother), have always made a fuss over the day despite her constant re-assurance that she's just happy with homemade cupcakes and a new pair of bell bottoms.

Her parents had woken her up especially early so she could see the decorations and be wished a proper happy birthday before shuffling off to school. Tilly has always appreciated her Mother's efforts when it comes to special occasions and finds it quite comical that her Father agrees with all her decor decisions, despite not caring for the over-the-top-ness of it all.

"Mom!" A gasp leaves Tilly as she finally opens the lavender colored box, a pair of strappy, short silver heels resting on top of white tissue paper. "I told you I didn't mind wearing my white flats."

"But I saw how much you loved them when you tried them on in the store." Her Mother says fondly. "And don't babble on about the price. Your Father was able to talk the manager into a sweet deal." She pats her husbands knee, the two of them perched on the edge of the coffee table with Tilly sat in the comfortable armchair usually reserved for her Father.

Moving the box to the ground, Tilly stands, embracing her parents in an appreciative hug and a kiss to their cheek each. "Thank you, thank you! I can't wait to wear these tonight!" She squeals in delight, the thought of her outfit for tonight's winter formal coming together perfectly.

December marks not only Tilly's birthday, but the start of winter which means her high school's winter formal was only around the corner. Lucky for her, it just so happens to fall on her birthday this year which means she had an excuse to dress up and have fun with her friends. (It also serves as an unofficial birthday party which makes it even better.)

After a breakfast of waffles and syrup - her favorite breakfast - Tilly takes her time getting ready, choosing to wear her new pair of mid-wash bell bottoms with a soft, cream colored sweater that her Grandma had given her last Christmas.

"Happy Birthday, Tilly!!!!" A scream is more or less heard from the kerb as Tilly leaves for school.

There, leaning out the passenger window of the car, is her best friend Valerie with her super curly locks blowing around in the morning breeze. Tilly skips down the path leading from her front door to the street and quickly embraces Valerie in a tight hug before jumping in the back seat next to her other friends Doug and Bobby.

She's met with a round of birthday wishes from the two boys and politely thanks them before making eye contact with the driver through the rear view mirror. "Happy Birthday." He says in a gruff voice.

"Thanks, Harry." Tilly hopes he sees her sincere smile through the small mirror as he pulls away from her front kerb and starts the short drive to school.

Tilly has always had a slight crush Harry. And really, who could blame her? He had grown his hair out so the brown curls just touched the top of his shoulders and for some reason taken more of an interest in her compared to what he used to. But she convinced herself that he would never like her back after over-hearing him tell Bobby that she wasn't his type one day when she showed up earlier than usual to their hang out spot.

Their little gang of friends formed during the summer going into 9th grade with the five of them bonding over the fear of high school, especially the older kids (seniors are scary when you're a freshman okay?) and new found responsibilities. Tilly had been friends with Valerie the longest, since 5th grade, but she definitely considers the boys her best friends too.

Harry isn't the most outgoing when compared to Bobby or Doug, who can just about cause a ruckus anywhere they go, but he is arguably the most likeable out of the group. His personality radiates with a level of confidence and charm that people can't help but fall for. Tilly even remembers her parents saying how much of a nice boy Harry was when the gang had dinner at her house for her birthday last year. The two have never really been able to get to know each other on a personal one-on-one level, having to avoid harmless teasing from the rest of their friends, so they only really hang out in group settings.

The car ride to school is spent listening softly to Queen playing on the radio and Valerie turning around to chat with the three in the back seat. Once at school, Tilly is whisked away by Valerie to the second floor girls restroom where she almost squeals in excitement.

"Val, why are you smiling so much? You're kinda scaring me." Tilly is skeptical, her best friend only usually in this mood when she has some interesting gossip or has a secret that she can't hold in.

Valerie takes a deep breath, "Dean told Maria who told Kayla who told me that Dean's going to ask you to dance and then on a date tonight!" She says so fast she struggles to regain her breath for a second afterwards.

Tilly can't help the shocked smile that finds its way to her face. Dean was the star of the football team, which made him the most popular guy in school and not surprisingly, the boy almost every girl wished they could go out with.

"Far out, Val!" Tilly quickly checks who could overhear their private conversation in the bathroom and after finding the coast is clear, she lets out a laugh in disbelief. The most popular boy in school wants to not only dance with her at the winter formal, but ask out?! Tilly couldn't really believe it.

The school bell shrills and the sound of lockers slamming shut follows as the girls file out of the bathroom and to their first class of the day. Valerie says a quick goodbye to Tilly, the sound of her clogs hitting the floor as she runs to a meeting. Being on the school events committee, she had a whole day of preparation and meetings for the impending winter formal. Luckily though, it was only a half day so students (especially the girls) had enough time to get ready with little complaints.

"What's got you all smiley?" Harry says as Tilly plops down at the desk beside his.

Letting the grin fall slightly from her face (she didn't think she was smiling that much but clearly she thought wrong), she shakes her head dismissively. "Just a wonderful birthday so far."

She's met with a nod from Harry and the two turn to face their teacher who's stuck-in-the-60's style is in full swing.

*

Harry doesn't really like school dances. He wouldn't say he hates them because they really aren't that bad. He just doesn't care for the fuss of it all and honestly, he'd rather just hang out with his friends in Doug's garage like usual.

The three boys are currently sat in said garage-turned hangout spot, a small tv on a table against the wall and a couch with some bean bags strewn around. Bobby's sat on the stool behind the drum set and Harry's sat on the largest of the bean bags (arguably his designated seat) with an acoustic guitar in his grip. Music has always been an important part of Harry's life, his guitar being his most prized possession. It also helps that Bobby plays a little guitar (he's not so great on the drums) so the two often have little jam sessions with Doug either obnoxiously singing along or just reading a comic in the presence of his mates.

"Where are the girls?" Doug mumbles from his spot, laying on the couch, with a G-I Joe in his hand. He'd never let anyone outside his gang know how much he loves dolls (or action figures as he insists).

"Val's probably still decorating the gym," Bobby answers as he taps the symbols of the drums lightly, "Tilly's probably already getting ready for her big night."

"Yeah, I heard Dean's gonna get with her tonight." Doug chimes in which causes Harry to suddenly stop his light strumming on the guitar.

Trying to conceal his shock, he clears his throat before saying, "Since when was Dean interested in Tilly?" Sitting up higher in the bean bag he adds, "He's an ass."

"Not to the girls he's not." A shrug of Doug's shoulders follows as he places the action figure neatly on the coffee table.

"I reckon girls like that, man." Moving from the drums to the couch, Bobby sits himself next to Doug and turns to face Harry. "Val told me that she personally likes a guy who's not all over her. She likes a challenge." His eyebrows raise and fall after he sees their skepticism. "Why do you think I've been different around her?"

It's an unspoken truth that Bobby is in love with Valerie, everybody knows it, maybe even Valerie herself but nothing has come of it yet. Neither have confessed their feelings to the other so the other three have to put up with the back and forth between the two.

"You're crazy if you think Valerie of all people will fall for your little act." Harry's tone is harmless, knowing Bobby doesn't mind a little teasing.

Bobby scoffs, "Whatever, man." Earning a laugh from Doug who proceeds to play wrestle with him over the back of the couch.

That's more or less Harry's cue to leave, not wanting to hurt himself before the dance tonight. (He won't admit it, but he does care how he looks at these events, pretty girls have that effect on him.)

*

9pm. The winter formal is in full swing, Valerie running her tiny self around the gym making sure everyone's having a good time and no one spikes the punch bowl, Doug devouring the snacks table and Bobby and Harry hanging next to the bleachers mostly keeping to themselves with the odd teacher attempting at small talk every 20 minutes.

The only person who's location is unknown, is Tilly's. Harry had briefly seen her chatting to some girls from the drama club when he arrived over an hour ago but hasn't seen her since. Plus, the gym is pretty huge and he's pretty sure the entire school is at this dance so he's surprised he hasn't even lost Bobby yet. (Doug never strays more than 20 feet from the refreshments table at school dances so no one really worries about him wandering off.)

"You've done a really great job with this whole thing, Val." Bobby says bashfully as Valerie approaches them with a slight look of exhaustion on her face. "And you look amazing." He adds for good measure, earning a slap on the back from Harry.

Valerie smiles warmly, "Thanks, Bobby." Pulling him in for a hug, Harry's sure he heard Bobby's heart stop beating for a few seconds, this being the most affection she has ever shown to her not-so-secret admirer in the few years they've been friends.

It makes Harry happy, seeing his best friend get a little something from his crush even if it was as tiny as something like a hug.

When a slow and melodious song starts playing through the speakers, Valerie gasps, pulling Bobby's hand into her own, "Dance with me?"

Once again, Harry swears he hears Bobby's heart convulse but before the two can get away from him and onto the dance floor he stops Valerie.

"Have you seen Tilly?" He tries not to give off a worried tone, but Tilly is his friend and he can't help but be a little worried that he hasn't spoken to her at all this evening. And it's her birthday after all so he wants to know she's having a good time.

"No, last I saw she was talking to Ms. Davis. But if you see her tell her I'm looking for her!" And with that she whisks Bobby away and into the crowd of teenagers who even during a slow song, try to grind up on each other.

Harry spots Ms. Davis by the entrance to the gym, "Oh, young Harry Styles how are finding this years winter formal? The committee did a wonderful job don't you think?" The teacher in her mid-60's speaks in a way that Harry can only describe as old-lady-like.

"Yeah it's pretty cool," his answer is somewhat sincere, "Have you seen Tilly around?"

Ms. Davis ponders for a moment, "Oh yes, I did see her leave a few minutes ago and she looked a little upset." Harry won't admit it out loud but he does feel a sense of despair hearing those words.

"Thanks Ms. Davis." A curt nod and tight lipped smile is all Harry gives before making his way out of the gym, down the halls of the school and out through the front doors.

He doesn't immediately see Tilly so he decides to basically walk the perimeter of the school building, hoping to find a not-so-sad birthday girl. It takes him a few minutes but eventually he spots her sitting on the third step of the bleachers by the football field. Truthfully, he hears her sniffles before he sees her but the pair of silver heeled shoes confirms who it is. (Harry does listen, okay, even when the girls are talking about things he doesn't care for like earrings and what lipstick looks best with different dresses.)

"Hey." He makes sure to say in the most normal voice he can do, sitting a foot away from her on the cold of the metal seats so to not overwhelm her. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"

Tilly clears her throat, swiping her fingers under her eyes to collect the wetness her tears had left. Shaking her head while letting out a breathy laugh she says, "Why do you care?" She doesn't mean to sound as harsh as she does, but there's she's feeling much too hurt to think properly.

"Don't be silly, you know I care about you." Ensuring his tone is smooth, Harry places a caring hand on her shoulder, feeling her cool skin under his palm, the thin strapped light blue dress not doing much to conceal her from the chilly breeze. "If you don't want to talk about it, at least let me drive you home."  He reasons.

"I don't want to go home. My parents will ask me too many questions and I'll have to tell them why this is the worst birthday I've ever had." Standing rather abruptly, Tilly's heels click against the metal steps of the bleachers as she scrambles down to the path.

A part of Harry thinks he should let her be, I mean clearly she doesn't want to talk about it, at least not with him, so maybe she'd rather talk to Valerie? But the other part, a bigger part, knows he shouldn't leave her alone when she's this upset.

"Tilly, wait." His command falls on deaf ears as he rushes down the steps, "Matilda." Resulting to using her full name, she stops in her tracks and turns to face him with fresh tears brimming at the corners of her eyes.

"You know I don't like being called that." Her voice is fragile and all Harry wants to do is curl her up into a hug, but he lets that stay in his imagination.

"I'm sorry." He's sincere, "Look, let's go on a drive, okay?" Tilly ponders the offer, adjusting her clutch purse so it rests under her arm rather than in a tight grasp.

"Can we go past the drive-thru?" Her puppy dog like eyes take no longer than three seconds to convince Harry and he mutters an "Of course." Before leading the way from the field to his car.

It's only 20 minutes later, after going through the drive-thru and grabbing two sodas and some fries to share, Harry decides to drive up to the lookout knowing it should be quite since every teenager in town was at the winter formal.

Tilly is very quite as Harry drives up the dirt road leading to the spot that looks over the entire town, keeping her stare out the window. "I'm sorry for being mean." Her apology earns a shake of the head from Harry.

"Nothing to be sorry for."

Pulling up to the lookout, Harry turns off the car and gets out with Tilly following suit. They hop up onto the hood of the car, facing out to see the view of their town lit up in warm yellow lights. You could even make out the lights of the town christmas tree if you look hard enough.

"He wanted to sleep with me." Tilly looks down, fiddling with her own hands in her lap, "That was his goal." She feels pathetic, letting more tears drop onto the fabric of her dress as she finally reveals the truth to Harry.

Harry doesn't need to ask who she's talking about to know it's Dean. His jaw clenches when he hears her say it, a mix of anger and hopelessness filling his body. Anger at Dean, the douchebag prick, who just had to go and hurt an innocent girl on her birthday and hopelessness for Tilly, wishing there was someway she didn't have to feel this shitty and could actually enjoy a day that is supposed to be all about her.

"I'm sorry, Till." Harry sighs, looking over at the sweet girl sitting next to him. "You didn't deserve that."

Another humourless laugh leaves her mouth, her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the lights of the town in front of them. "All I wanted was to dance on my birthday. I was so excited when I heard that Dean of all people wanted to dance with me, how stupid is that?" She finally looks at Harry, holding his gaze for a moment, "Turns out he really is just a jock who wants to get more girls than his friends." Sniffling a little, she turns her head back to the view.

Harry sits next to her, not having a clue of what to say, so he slides off the hood of his car, putting a cassette into the player in his car and turning the volume up so it's loud enough to hear from the outside but soft enough to not be annoying.

A little confused, Tilly watches as Harry fumbles around in his car until he comes to stand directly in front of her and holds his hand out to her. "What are you doing?" She giggles.

"May I have this dance?"

Harry swears he sees her eyes light up, a smile working its way to both of their faces as she places her hand into his much larger one. He helps her slide off the hood without wrecking her dress, steadying her once she's standing in front of him with his hands gently on her waist and hers coming down to rest on his shoulders close enough to his curls that she could twirl them around her fingertips if she wanted to.

The two of them sway quietly back and forth, the only sound being the low hum of the music and Tilly giggling every few minutes. They stay like that for a little while, Tilly's arms eventually moving from Harry's shoulders to wrap around his middle and her head coming to rest on his chest, just under his chin.

Harry's not sure what to make of the situation. His heart is beating dangerously loud in his chest that he's sure Tilly can hear it through his shirt. Does he like Tilly as in like-like? Or is it just the circumstances that has him feeling mushy over his friend who he's holding so tenderly? As cliche as it sounds, Harry wishes this moment would last forever, the feeling of her a welcomed weight in his arms.

Tilly feels... content. She can hear the steady beat of Harry's heart in his chest that makes her feel at peace. Picking her head up from his chest, she looks up into his deep green eyes, wishing she could put her feeling into words for him to hear. She wants him to know she has feelings for him but the fear of rejection eats at her. At this point, her heartache from Dean is no more, the feeling of safety overcoming all else.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to have a birthday like you planned." Harry says, a pout faint on his lips, eyes still locked into Tilly's.

Shaking her head lightly she says honestly, "I'm glad it's ending like this." Harry chuckles like he doesn't believe her so she adds, "Seriously, Harry. Thank you for giving me my birthday dance." Their gently swaying slows right down until they're just standing there, holding each other in between Harry's car and the fence that prevents them from falling off the cliff they're parked on.

Tilly doesn't know how or what makes her finally do it, but as quickly as she raises up on her tip toes to softy peck Harry's pink lips, she's back on her heels. Looking up to gauge his reaction she's met with his eyes staring more intently at her than they ever have before. She's just about convinced herself that she's made a mistake when she feels his hands move from where they were resting on her sides to cup her face, fingers curled in the hair behind her ears and thumbs stroking the tops of her cheekbones.

Leaning down, Harry delicately slots his lips with Tilly's, bottom lip pressing gently between hers as she puckers to reciprocate the feeling. The corny feeling of butterflies creeping its way to both of their stomachs, heat rising to their cheeks as they move in unison, mouths disconnecting only to connect at a different angle as they figure each other out. Harry's lips are much softer than Tilly had ever imagined, hers the tiniest bit sticky with the lip gloss that had managed to stay on throughout the night's dramas.

Pulling away, the two teenagers can't help but let bashful grins form on their faces, chuckling at what they had just done. "Now I'd argue this was a pretty perfect birthday after all." Tilly giggles and Harry decides then and there that it's his favourite sound.

"Happy birthday." He presses a warm kiss to her cheek, moving his arms to wind back around her waist and laying his head into the crook of her neck, effectively embracing her in the most tender hug he thinks he's every given anyone (except his mom of course). Rising back up on her toes slightly, Tilly wraps her arms around Harry's neck, pressing her body further into his and returning the embrace.

A sudden realization dawns on her, "What time is it?" Brows furrowed, she pulls away from Harry to only then realize she isn't wearing a watch.

"Uhhh," Checking his watch, Harry struggles to read it and angles it better against the faint light of the street lamp near them before saying, "Eleven-thirty-three, I think."

Eyes wide, Tilly takes a deep breath in, "My curfew is 12, if I'm not home by then my parents will flip." Her hands absentmindedly move to fiddle with the rings on Harry's watch-free hand. He's a little amused if he's honest, seeing her fidgety over possibly missing curfew. But he'd never purposefully get her in trouble, knowing she's a little bit of a goody-two-shoes and would be super mad if she got grounded. (Which also meant Harry wouldn't be able to see her outside of school but he'll keep that to himself.)

"Relax, it's only 15 minutes drive from here, let's go." He pulls her by hand to the passenger side of the car and like a true gentleman, opens the door and makes sure her legs are tucked in before shutting it.

True to his word, 15 minutes later Harry pulls up to Tilly's kerb, shifting the car into park with 5 minutes to spare according to the clock on the dash.

"Thank you, Harry." She turns sideways in the seat to face him and that's when Harry can see the day catching up to her, her eyes heavy with sleep yet still glimmering. He chuckles, "You've already said that."

Pushing against the centre console, Tilly reaches across to press a final kiss to Harry's cheek, unintentionally right next to the corner of his mouth making him smile in admiration. "Goodnight, Harry." Her voice is soft.

"Goodnight, Tilly."

Harry watches as she walks up the stone path to her front door and after ensuring she's safely inside, shifts the car into drive and heads home, no doubt to stay up thinking about how crazy she makes him. In a good way, of course.

[weekendwarriorblog]

The Weekend Warrior 12/18/20 – GREENLAND, FATALE, MONSTER HUNTER, EDUCATION, BREACH, SKYLIN3S and More

We’re getting so close to the end of what has been a fairly grueling year for movie lovers, especially those of us who enjoy watching movies in theaters. I personally was watching upwards of ten movies a week in theaters, but since March, I’ve only seen two, and that’s because movie theaters were shut down and then kept shut down since mid-March. Meanwhile, I can literally get on a train and see a movie in Jersey City without any problems, and there have been no cases traced to someone watching a movie in a theater either. Meanwhile, Cuomo and DiBlasio keep shutting everything down in New York City despite claiming that they were going to stick with the zones or hot spots… nope, the entire city may be closed down after Christmas.

But enough moaning…  There’s some good stuff debuting this week and some of them even are in theaters. I’m gonna start with three movies from three of my favorite filmmakers, all of whom know how to make fun, mainstream studio films.

Oh, and before you get to that, also check out my advance review of next week’s Soul from Pixar Animation!

Director Paul W.S. Anderson and partner Mila Jovovich reunite for a brand-new video game adaptation, MONSTER HUNTER (Screen Gems), based on the Capcom game in which the characters… you guessed it… hunt monsters. In this one, Jovovich plays Captain Artemis a soldier who while investigating the disappearance of a battalion ends up in another dimension known as the New World where she encounters (dum dum dum!) monsters and fights them with a new ally, played by Tony Jaa.

Listen, I’ll be the first to confess that I find Anderson’s movies to be a bit of a guilty pleasure. While he has made some fun movies like Alien vs. Predator and Event Horizon, he’s sometimes faltered like his attempt at a Three Musketeers movie and of course, Pompeii. Undaunted by the number of video game movies he’s already made, he takes on yet another one, and he definitely seems to be having quite a bit of fun while making this one.

Monster Hunter begins with a preamble set in the “New World” where we see a ship and characters straight out of the game being attacked by a giant monster. We’re then back in our “Old” World where Jovovich’s character is leading a small platoon in search of a missing group of soldiers. They’re hit by a huge sandstorm, and next thing they know, they’ve been transported through a portal to another dimension where they’re attacked by a giant horned creature (a bit like a mutated Triceratops) that burrows under the ground and starts killing them off one-by-one.

Listen, I make no bones about the fact that I’m a full-on giant monster stan whether it’s Godzilla, Pacific Rim, whatever, so I was probably already fully onboard before I saw the great job Anderson and his team did to make these monsters feel like they have real weight and scale. There are definitely elements to the movie that reminded me of Paul Verhoeven’s Starship Troopers – a movie I genuinely love -- but it did a better job of it than another movie out this week (see below).

Another reason Monster Hunter works at all is that not only is Anderson familiar with the mechanics of the video game but also understands that a movie like this requires some degree of humor to be taken seriously, ironically. Much of that comes from the attempts to communicate between Jovovich and Jaa, and that does get a little tiring after a while, but it offers some laughs once the action settles down, which isn’t often. Jovovich is still a kick-ass action heroine as always, and it’s almost shocking that her and Anderson have been doing this stuff for 18 years since teaming up for the very first Resident Evil.

The great thing about Monster Hunter is that it’s almost non-stop action for a good portion of the movie, rarely slowing down, and it just gets better when Ron Perlman enters the mix, although he feels somewhat underused in the crazy last act where they face creatures that look a lot like the Game of Thrones dragon. There is also some notable silliness that in fact is something from the game.

Monster Hunter is definitely not the kind of movie I recommend to everyone – fans of the OTHER Paul Anderson would turn their noses up at the suggestion --  but if you’re a fan of giant monsters and some of Anderson’s earlier work, you’ll probably already know whether or not this will be for you. Either way, it’s the kind of entertainment we just haven’t seen much of in 2020. Monster Hunter will open in theaters including IMAX on Friday.

Director Deon Taylor reunites with his The Intruder leading man, Michael Ealy, for the psychological thriller FATALE (Lionsgate), in which Ealy plays Derek, a very successful sports agent who has an unfortunate one-night stand while in Vegas with a woman, played by Oscar-winner Hilary Swank. When Derek returns to L.A., a break-in at his home brings out the police, including Swank’s Val, who happens to be a well-regarded police detective, and she will not be ignored, Derek!

I went into this presuming it was Taylor’s version of updating the erotic thriller Fatal Attraction, and I was partially right, except that Swank’s Val is much more dangerous in this case because as a police detective, she has a lot more power over Derek once she realizes he’s married. There are elements to this movie that definitely give it a twist like the fact that Derek and his wife Tracy (Damaris Lewis) are already having marital problems before his affair, or the fact that Val has been trying to get custody of her daughter from her politician husband (Carter Haywood). There’s also Derek’s best friend and business partner Rafe (Mike Colter) and ex-con cousin Tyrin (Tyrin Turner) that add to the mix once people around Derek start dying.

I’ve always said that Taylor is a better director than a writer, but I was surprised that this thriller was written by David Loughery, who also wrote last year’s fairly decent The Intruder. Ealy is just fine as always here, but Swank’s attempt to play a bad guy just doesn’t work as well as she did in The Hunt. Having so many different subplots and characters just confuses matters and takes away from the actual thriller.  There may be a couple unexpected twists but none that really shake you up like some of the ones in Fatal Attraction. Sure, maybe it’s unfair to call it that, even though we’ve seen quite a few genre-switched remakes/twists like What Men Want and Little, and this isn’t that at all.

On the other hand, there is an interesting sublayer to the Val-Derek dynamic that makes you think of the way black men far less rich and successful than Derek are treated by white police, so the movie may be inadvertently (?) be building on the “Black Lives Matter” movement without intentionally trying. Still, I liked Taylor’s last movie Black and Blue much more.

Other than that, Fatale never really goes anywhere and never quite delivers on the promising concept in the same way some might be hoping based on Taylor’s previous work.

Director Ric Roman Waugh and actor Gerard Butler reunite after making last year’s Angel Has Fallen, this time for the disaster film GREENLAND (STXFilms). Sadly, this one is going straight to PVOD in the USA rather than being given a chance in theaters, which is a shame, since it’s a big screen disaster film about a string of comets heading towards earth and one man named John Garrity (Butler) who is trying to protect and save his family.

I’ll freely admit that I’ve been a big fan of Waugh’s since his earlier film Felon – and for the sake of transparency, I do consider him a friend, so I’m glad to see him doing bigger studio films, especially since he continually proves the quality of his work and focus on characters can be retained even for this kind of movie.  Some going into Greenland might be expecting something like San Andreas or The Day After Tomorrow, but thankfully, and I definitely credit Waugh for this, it’s actually is a disaster flick that never loses sight of the humans at its core.

Butler is actually a decent actor when given half a chance, but obviously, his shift to starring in action movies means that he has to work a bit harder to show that he’s more than just a bulky buff action hero.  In this case, he creates quite a fallible and grounded hero whose marriage has been trouble, because he cheated on his wife. Morena Baccarin is also quite good as his wife Allison, really adding to the tension when she gets separated, first from Jack and then their son.  Young Roger Dale Floyd, who I was dubious of as their kid at least as the film began, really steps up and also delivers on making the audience feel that there is real danger and stakes. Just as you think the movie is about to head fully into Roland Emmerich land – lots of comet destruction -- Waugh pulls out another terrific veteran in Scott Glenn who adds even more weight and gravitas to the film.

Greenland is definitely a bit of a leap for Waugh in terms of visual FX from previous films. On top of the destruction caused by the comets, there is also a good amount of time where the skies are burning in bright orange. But it’s all background to following Jack and his family going through the ordeal of trying to escape and survive the inevitable “extinction event” when the largest chunk of the comet hits earth.

As far as disaster flix go, Greenland is one of the better ones, since it goes out of its way to make everything feel real, as if it was a well-made documentary or based on a true story, one that hopefully will never come true.

Note: I’ll also have an interview with Ric Roman Waugh over at Below the Line very soon.

Next up is Steve McQueen’s EDUCATION (Amazon Prime Video), the last installment of his “Small Axe Anthology” of films. This one stars Kenyah Sandy as 12-year-old Kingsley Smith, a boy who can’t read so he’s sent to a special school in Barnet where the teachers aren’t really teaching the kids and they’re running amok. Kingsley’s parents don’t realize what’s going on until a group of caring West Indian women pull together to speak up against the lack of education their kids are getting.

It’s the shortest of the series at just over an hour, and while it’s not my favorite, it’s still very good, and it also feels like it could be a very personal film to McQueen, maybe more than the other four movies. First of all, he found this great young actor to play the lead role -- as most of McQueen’s work, the entire cast is great, including Nicole Ackles -- but he also is exploring something that while some parents may be able to relate to, the segregation and racism that permeated the British school system in those days might not be something that many Americans or younger Brits were aware of. I also wasn’t aware of the cultural bias in IQ tests that sent trouble kids like Kingsley into this other school system where they would never learn anything despite the selling point that it has less students so the teachers can focus on helping them more. That clearly doesn’t turn out to be the case with Kingsley and the school to which he commutes.

Education definitely feels more informational than something meant to entertain like Lovers Rock, but it’s a fine addition to the “Small Axe Anthology” that shows how well McQueen and his team have been able to make each chapter feel different in terms of look and tone from others.

Streaming this week on Netflix is George C. Wolfe’s adaptation of August Wilson’s MA RAINEY’S BLACK BOTTOM, which I already reviewed. It stars Viola Davis as the title character, a famous blues singer in the ‘20s who has come to Chicago to record an album and she has to deal with an ambitious trumpet player, played by the late Chadwick Boseman, who has his own career aspirations that puts him at odds with Davis’ character. As with Denzel’s adaptation of August Wilson’s Fences, it’s a strong period drama.  Also, as mentioned last week, you can also now watch the related doc Giving Voice, which follows the journey of six student actors on their way to the August Wilson Monologue Competition.

If you’re looking for something to keep the kiddies quiet, check out Taylor Meacham’s TO GERARD, an animated short now on Peacock from DreamWorks Animation. It’s a wonderful animated short about a guy working in a mailroom who witnessed a magic show when he was a child that influenced his entire life and how he passes that love of magic onto a young girl he encounters.

Directed by Jennifer Trainer, the Director of Development of MASS MoCa in North Adams, Massachusetts, the doc MUSEUM TOWN (Kino Lorber/Kino Marquee) is an amazing documentation of the development of a former factory in the Berkshires area of Mass. being turned into one of the largest contemporary art museums in the world.  

North Adams was a factory town where most of the city worked at the Sprague Electronics that was left quite dilapidated and destitute after the factory closed. Years later, the warehouse that was eventually turned into MASS MoCA.

Much of the film covers artist Nick Cave – no, not THAT Nick Cave – as he’s working on his installation, but it also goes back to when David Byrne brought his installation “Desire” there in 1996. Not that it all goes without problems. While opening MoCA would help the community by giving jobs, there’s some political wrangling from the state’s then-conservative Governor, and of course, the people living in North Adams aren’t quite prepared for it to be turned into an arts community.

Still, there are some amazing enormous installations that are impressive and the director even got Meryl Streep – yes, THAT one – to narrate. I’m not really a contemporary art kinda guy but Trainer has done a good job making it easier for people like me to understand why a trip to MASS MoCA in North Adams might be a worthy sojourn.

Speaking of art, I’m hoping to get to Chinese artist and activist Ai Weiwei’s new doc COCKROACH, which will be playing at Alamo on Demand starting Friday with a watch party with Ai Weiwei happening on Saturday at 3:30PM. In this one Ai Weiwei films the Hong Kong protests of February 2019, covering street demonstrations, police suppression and violence and things like the siege on Hong Kong Polytechnic University including interviews with the participants. Will try to catch this and add something later this week if possible.

Let’s get to some sci-fi, shall we? It’s a little odd to see a few movies that very well could fall into Paul WS Anderson’s genre purview, especially going up against an actual Anderson movie, but there ya go.

The best of the three is the John Suits*-directed BREACH (Saban Films), starring Bruce Willis, Cody Kearsley from Riverdale, Rachel Nichols and Thomas Jane. It’s set in the year 2242 when the earth is dying and the last shuttle, the USS Hercules, is putting its 300,000 passengers into cryogenic sleep for the long trip to New Earth…. Yes, a bit like Passengers. Willis and Kearsley are essentially janitors who along with a few dozen others have been kept awake to service the craft, but they soon learn that something else has “breached” the spaceship and is killing them off one-by-one. (*Okay, funny little factoid: Suits also directed the “Diehard is Back” commercial for Diehard batteries.)

I’m sure you’re immediately saying, “Hey Ed, that sounds a lot like Alien or John Carpenter’s The Thing. You realize that, right?” Sure, I do, and while I don’t think Breach is likely to stand the test of time in terms of sci-fi horror, as those have, it offers more than enough entertainment that you might not regret it if someone forces you to watch it… even in a movie theater! (Dum dum dum!)

I wasn’t familiar with Kearsley before this movie, but he does a good job holding the fort as , and I have to say that Willis definitely seems to be present and not phoning it in, as he has been in some other recent VOD release. In fact, I’ll say that Willis is kind of pulling from the “Classic Bruce” we all loved in the ‘80s and ‘90s, plus he has a bigger role in the movie then others, so that should be a great selling point right there for any doubters.

Eventually, we learn that all the mayhem has been caused by a virus, and soon, the surviving crew are facing infected zombie-like people (kinda like Resident Evil) who have been thawed out from cryo. We also learn that this virus is trying to kill as many humans as possible as the shuttle is sent on a crash course into New Earth (a bit like Greenland—see how it all ties together?)

Sure, there’s an element to Breach that does feel semi-derivative of other space movies, but Suits does a decent job keeping the fun quotient on par with other Bruce Willis movies, and that’s partially why Breach is actually quite enjoyable.

Filmmaker Liam O’Donnell returns to the helm for the threequel SKYLIN3S (Vertical), the third chapter in the low-budget alien invasion movie Skyline from 2010. A lot has happened since that movie, mostly in the sequel Beyond Skyline, which of course, I haven’t seen. Thankfully, there’s a recap as the third movie now follows Rose Corley (Lindsey Morgan), a young woman with powers believed to be the hero that can save earth while fighting back against the alien Harvesters. She also has a brother Trent (Jeremy Fitzgerald), who seems to be an alien “pilot” himself, and with a crew of soldiers, she’s sent on a mission to Cobalt 1 to take the fight to the aliens. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? (Honestly, I was so confused by some of this, I do not recommend watching without having seen the previous movie.)

I wasn’t that big a fan of the original movie (written and produced by O’Donnell), but he has turned this ersatz sci-fi franchise into a full-on space opera that takes its cues (translation: spuriously rips offs) from so many other science fiction movies from Starship Troopers to District 9 to the Aliens and Predator movies. Surprise, surprise, O’Donnell worked with Skyline directors Colin and Greg Strause on Aliens Vs. Predator: Requiem, also not a great sequel. Even with Morgan being a decent female lead, it’s still very much your typical macho action movie of humans fighting aliens movie with a bit of awkward martial arts thrown into the mix. The movie is also ultra-serious almost to a level that makes it hard to snicker, and some might scratch their heads about the choice of a blooper reel during the end credits.

One thing where O’Donnell does sort of succeed is in the mix of practical and on-set visual FX to the point where you may not be sure what you’re watching, plus the environments created are generally effective quality sci-fi. It’s really in the last half hour or so when the visual FX budget starts being more obvious, but it also leads to a number of very silly and cheesy visuals, particularly involving the aliens. You can’t help but feel that you’re watching a particularly low-budget episode of any season of Doctor Who.

Ultimately, Skylines isn’t great, coming across like the Riddick sequels compared to the original movie. In this case, the first movie of this franchise wasn’t even close to as good as Pitch Black was, so why bother?

Lastly (as far as sci-fi goes), we have Martin Owen’s MAX CLOUD (Well GO USA) (aka The Intergalactic Adventures of Max Cloud), which might sound familiar to anyone who has seen any of the Jumanji movies or cheesy ‘90s films like Masters of the Universe and for whatever reason, wished they’d make movies that bad. Set in 1990, this is about a young gamer named Sarah Noble (Isabelle Allen) who finds herself transported into her favorite side scroller gang to join the adventures of its hero, Captain Max Cloud (Scott Adkins … uh oh) and his crew to take on the evil Revengor (John Hannah). In order to stay alive in the game, Sarah’s friend Cowboy (Franz Drameh) must keep the console game on and get Sarah’s character Jake, the ship’s cook played by Elliot James Langridge, through the game’s mission alive.

It did not take me very long while watching this to realize I was about to sit through a very terrible movie, but to be fair, I’ve long ago learned to go into any movie starring Adkins with some trepidation. My instincts weren’t wrong, because between the lousy writing, awful acting and cheesy score that quickly gets on your nerves, Max Cloud never once gets you thinking, “This could have been a good movie.”

There are a few other characters including Tommy Flanagan’s Brock Donnelly, your typical bounty hunter type, and there’s another baddie named Shee, played by…um.. what? Yes, kids, apparently Lashana Lynch, who is set to be the next 007 in next year’s No Time To Die got herself cast in a very bad D-grade movie before her big break. Whoops. At least the movie gives Adkins another chance to show off his martial arts moves, but they feel just as out of place here  as they do in Skylines.

I can’t even say that the filmmakers or this cast were even trying their best or giving it their all, because it doesn’t really seem like that at all. Other than some decent visual FX to create a side-scrolling fight sequence late in the movie, it's actually pretty awful, a bad faux video game movie that should have had its plug pulled.

Shawn Linden’s HUNTER HUNTER (IFC Midnight) is about a family of fur trappers led by Devon Sawa’s Joseph Mersault, along with wife Anne (Camille Sullivan) and daughter Renée (Summer H. Howell), a family trying to make ends meet until their traps start being poached by a giant rogue wolf. Joseph leaves his family behind to track the wolf but while he’s gone, Anne and their daughter find a badly injured man named Lou (Nick Stahl) who may know something more about this wolf.

I wasn’t sure what to expect of this film, mainly since there already was a werewolf movie earlier in the year this year called The Wolf of Snow Hollow, and while this is very different, it’s also somewhat stiff in comparison. About 15 minutes into the movie, Joseph and the two women are separated, and it cuts between them. It’s about 45 minutes into the movie before Nick Stahl’s character shows up, but by then, you probably have a good idea what’s going to happen.

Linden and his cast do a great job creating tension with the help of the music and sound design, but things go along for some time without much happening. Otherwise, Camille Sullivan gives a stronger performance than anyone else, a performance almost too good for this movie, but Sawa is also quite good. Admittedly it’s a little strange seeing him all grown-up having seen Final Destination WAY too many times.  On the other hand, I’ve never really been a fan of Stahl, and he really isn’t great when he finally shows up as the mysterious stranger.

There are some unexpectedly silly moments like when we actually see the wolf for the first time – it looks pretty cool, actually – and Anne just screams at it. There are a couple other characters who aren’t particularly interesting – wolf fodder, if you will – but it just takes its sweet time getting to the inevitable twist that you may have seen coming an hour earlier. The last act is pretty grueling to get through as Lou shows his true colors. Part of me wishes the movie didn’t go where it seemed to be going, because it because it feels sudden and much out of character with the rest of the movie.

Hunter Hunter isn’t a terrible movie, and it could have been far, far worse in the wrong hands or with the wrong cast. I’m definitely kinda mixed on it, since it’s still a genre film that erroneously plays down its genre potential until the very last 10 minutes, and that alone might annoy anyone watching it.

Some of the movies I just didn’t have time to get to this week:

Paint (Gravitas Ventures) Tiger Within (Gravitas Ventures) Sister of the Groom (Saban/Paramount) The Last Sermon (Gravitas Ventures) Climate of the Hunter (Dark Star Pictures) The Rescue (CMC Pictures) Shalom Taiwan (Outsider Pictures) Goodbye Dragon Inn (Metrograph Pictures)

By the way, if you read this week’s column and have bothered to read this far down, feel free to drop me some thoughts at Edward dot Douglas at Gmail dot Com or drop me a note or tweet on Twitter. I love hearing from readers … honest!

[artificialqueens]

Pick Up Pick Up (Courtney x Valentina) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Hi all! This is another entry for the fic challenge, taken from Chapters 3 and 4 of Undone (and some sneak peaks from Chapter 5), with some “bonus content” from Valentina’s POV.

Summary: When Courtney picked up Valentina at the club, she was not prepared for Valentina’s Feelings.

From Steph: Can we all just take a second and realize how crazy this bitch Valentina is. I hope you love this as much as I love it.

From V: As always, undying gratitude to our beta readers, @theofficialcunt , @willamdelrio , @artificial-jazz , @collidinggalaxiesofstars

VALENTINA: Hola! It’s me, Valentina. I had fun this weekend. This may sound crazy but I think I left a hair clip at your place. I know it’s dumb but I’m kind of attached to it. It has red roses on it. 🌹🌹🌹I’m sorry to be a pain. Lol

COURTNEY: It’s no problem, I’ll look when I get home.

VALENTINA: OMG thank you so much.

COURTNEY: NP. I hope I find it. It’ll give me an excuse to see you again.

VALENTINA: Well, if you happen to be free, my friend Enrique is having a party on Friday. You wanna be my date? 🌹

COURTNEY: Can I get back to you later in the week? We usually do night shoots on Fridays.

VALENTINA: I’m sorry, lol, I didn’t mean to be so pushy

COURTNEY: You’re not! I just don’t know what time we’re gonna wrap. I might have to roll in late looking a bit rough…

VALENTINA: Lol you’ll look gorgeous. I can’t wait. 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

***

“Girl, can you please calm down? You’re doing that manic thing and it’s just a lot, this early in the morning,” Aja complains, slipping on her headset.

“I know, I’m sorry, I just…I can’t help it.” Valentina tries to hide her radiant smile, but it’s useless. She’s glowing with light and love, bursting with happiness, and she wants to tell everyone.

“I know, but for some of us, it’s Monday, and that’s like, shitty, so…please. Take a Xanax or smoke a bowl or like…I dunno, read something about homeless puppies.” Aja turns to her computer, pretending not to notice Valentina still peering over the top of her cubicle. She takes a long sip of her coffee, answering an email from her boss, and then slowly turns back around, sighing. “Fine. Tell me about this girl.”

Valentina squeals happily, prancing over to her cubicle and sitting down on the rolling file cabinet, beaming.

“Okay, so, her name is Courtney and she’s beautiful and caring and perfect and I think I’m in love.”

Aja bursts out laughing.

“I’m serious! You weren’t there. When she kissed me, it was like time stopped,” Valentina says, eyes shimmering. “I can still feel her skin against mine when I close my eyes.”

“Do you want some privacy?” Aja asks, one eyebrow raised.

“Don’t be jealous,” Valentina smirks.

“Ha! Unlikely.”

After a pause, Valentina adds, “I’ve seen her around. I know she’s a little bit of a player. But…this was different. The way she held me, you don’t understand. Nobody has ever made me feel that way. It was like…she really saw me, and…and besides, she already said that she wants to see me again. So, that’s not some casual thing, right?”

“No,” Aja says, sorting through a pile of receipts. “It sounds like she’s totally on the same page. I mean from what I know about lesbians, ‘I want to see you again’ pretty much means ‘bring a UHaul with your stuff and let’s get a cat,’ right?”

“Is it weird that I started a wedding board on pinterest?”

“For you? No, that’s not weird at all.” Aja rolls her eyes again, going back to her computer.

Valentina lets out a giddy laugh as James pops his head over the cubicle.

“You know what you should do?”

“Jesus!” Aja jumps, startled.

“Sorry girl. But, you know what you should do?” James asks earnestly.

“What?” Valentina asks, happy for someone else to be invested in her budding romance.

“Change your relationship status on Facebook,” he says, clapping his hands.

“Really?”

“Yes! It’ll be so funny, she’ll think it’s adorable.”

“So funny,” Aja echoes sarcastically, snickering.

A slow smile spreads across Valentina’s face at the thought of everyone knowing about Courtney. It would be pretty adorable. And what’s the harm? They’re well on their way to a relationship anyway, what’s the problem with announcing it a little early? Worst case scenario, if Courtney thought it was too soon, she’d take it down, but it would give her the opportunity to confess that she could really see a future together. And someday, it would be a cute story they’d tell. She giggles, excitement bubbling up inside as she walks back to her desk.

***

“Courtney!” Adore bursts into the wardrobe trailer. “Holy shit, girl, tell me you did not sleep with that crazy bitch Valentina this weekend!”

Courtney and Bianca both turn to Adore slowly.

“Uhhh…I could tell you that, but it would be a lie.”

“Dude, what the fuck? Why would you do that?”

“Um, because she was beautiful, and…willing. And, I’m single. I dunno. It’s not like I’m marrying her, calm down.”

“Have you not heard Shea’s stories about that girl?” Adore sighs.

“…No?” Courtney ventures.

“She’s fucking nuts, bro. She used to text her 50 times a day and like, even called her office and once she-”

“Adore, you know how dramatic Shea is. She seemed like a very nice girl. We had a good time. She even made me breakfast.”

“At your house or her house?” Adore asks, crossing her arms.

“My house, why?”

“Lock your doors at night, is all I have to say.”

“Thanks for your concern,” Courtney laughs.

Adore shakes her head, exiting the trailer.

“So apparently you got laid this weekend?” Bianca says lightly. She zips up her dress, trying not to stare at the deep scratch marks covering her back and shoulders.

“Yeah,” Courtney answers casually, looking at Bianca’s face in the mirror. For some reason, she’s not sure how much she wants to elaborate about her rendezvous with the beautiful Latina girl who’d caught her eye at Roosterfish. Her glittering eyes, ruby lips and deep curves. The way, in a certain light, her lovely face looked a little familiar, the way holding her close satisfied a particular ache. So she flips it around with a coy, “You?”

“No comment.” Bianca smirks at her.

“That good, huh?” Courtney chuckles.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bianca laughs, shaking her head. “You rude bitch.”

Courtney giggles while Bianca pins the straps of her dress. “Well, mine was delightful. Don’t believe Adore’s hysterics. She was…something else. Body to die for. Gorgeous smile. I spotted her across the dance floor and just…” Courtney tongue pops.

“That easy, huh?”

“Like candy from a baby,” Courtney smirks, winking at Bianca in the mirror.

Bianca clears her throat, shaking her head slightly. A notification goes off on Courtney’s phone and she looks down, frowning slightly.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Um, it’s just…I got a Facebook notification. It’s kind of…strange.”

“Be a little more cryptic, it’s not like I’m working,” Bianca says, rolling her eyes.

“Sorry.” Courtney holds up her phone to show Bianca the screen.

Valentina Leyva tagged you in her life event: In a Relationship with Courtney Hamilton.

Bianca raises her eyebrows. “Uhhh. When did you meet her?”

Courtney puts down the phone. “Saturday.”

Bianca whistles. “You forgot to give the baby her candy back.”

“…fuck.”

“And…it sounds like you owe Adore an apology.”

Courtney groans.

*

COURTNEY: Um. I’m not sure exactly how to say this sensitively…

VALENTINA: Ok i’m a little scared lol

COURTNEY: Yeah, uh…what’s with the Facebook thing?

VALENTINA: OHHHH! Hahaha omg sorry, that’s just me and my friends messing around. We thought it was funny. 🌹

COURTNEY: I’m probably just missing the joke

VALENTINA: Like, he said it would be cute lol

COURTNEY: It’s not

VALENTINA: Ok i said sorry, you don’t have to get weird about it, wtf

COURTNEY: I’m going to respectfully disengage from this conversation. Have a nice day!

VALENTINA: YOU are gonna “disengage”

VALENTINA: What does that even mean?

***

“James!” Valentina cries, as Courtney’s phone clicks over to voicemail for the second time. She drops it onto her desk, shaking slightly.

“What’s wrong, muffin?”

“I…I…I think I fucked up.”

“What do you mean?”

“She didn’t think that Facebook thing was funny-”

“There’s a shock,” Aja mutters.

“And then I kind of freaked out and I think I pissed her off and now she’s not answering my calls and what if she doesn’t give me another chance, James, what am I gonna do?!” Valentina’s voice breaks into a sob, as James runs around the bullpen to awkwardly hug her around the waist.

“Val, honey, this is why you shouldn’t get so invested after one damn night with someone!” Aja lectures, throwing her hands up in the air.

Valentina turns to her, tears streaking down her face. “You’re the one who said she was on the same page! And the thing about the UHaul!”

“That was a joke,” Aja laughs.

“Way to pick your moments, Aja,” James says.

“And you! This is your fault!” Valentina exclaims, shoving James away.

“I’m sorry, I really thought it was-”

“Shut up!” Valentina cries, covering her face and collapsing into her chair.

James looks over at Aja with a worried look. Aja shakes her head, mouthing “DRAMA” back at him.

***

VALENTINA: Why aren’t you answering my calls???

VALENTINA: Oh I see how it is

VALENTINA: CUNT 🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

VALENTINA: Courtney, you’re being stupid, I just want to talk.

VALENTINA: I still want you to come Friday.

VALENTINA: We can work this out, okay? I don’t understand why you are being so mean. You said you wanted to see me again…

VALENTINA: PICK UP PICK UP PICK UP PICK UP

COURTNEY: Please stop calling.

VALENTINA: UR A BITCH

VALENTINA: PLEASE PICK UP

VALENTINA: Please Courtney

***

Looking back, there were red flags. First of all, there was the whole doe-eyed innocent act. “This is my first time here,” Valentina had said, when Courtney knew for a fact that she’d been coming to that club for over a year. Shea knew her somehow - through work or something. Shea also didn’t like her for some reason. But then again, Shea didn’t like a lot of people, so Courtney wasn’t about to hold that against her.

But in retrospect…it may have been a good idea to ask Shea what her deal was. Just like, a refresher on why she hated the kid. Because maybe then Courtney would have been able to avoid the whole drama.

Of course, she didn’t do that. Because it was late and Courtney was bored and there was something about her eyes, and her smile, the curve of her cheek, that captivated Courtney. In a certain light, she almost looked like…well, of course, Courtney knew who she looked like; there was no use dwelling in it.

There was no denying how beautiful she was. How her bright smile practically glowed. On the dance floor, she melted into Courtney’s arms, gazing at her with those big amber eyes, lapping up the attention like a greedy little baby. And when Adore waltzed over to slur goodnight, kissing Courtney full on the mouth and squeezing her ass, Courtney felt nails digging into her waist, eyes flashing with a jealous rage. Another red flag that Courtney ignored. Some girls didn’t like it when the women they were with kissed their friends on the lips. That was fair, right?

When Courtney suggested heading to her place, she’d practically swooned right there on the dance floor. They’d walked the three minutes to Courtney’s house, Valentina’s soft hand tucked in hers, Courtney’s arm around her waist, making sure she didn’t trip in her staggering heels - impractical for this neighborhood, but Courtney couldn’t deny how sexy her legs looked.

Once inside, Courtney realized that she had a real live pillow princess on her hands. But, one thing that Courtney never lacked in bed was generosity. So she worked slow and gentle…stripping off her dress, her bra…worshipping every inch of her smooth, golden brown skin, until she was writhing and begging. And then she peeled off her soaking wet panties and began to lick her softly, hands holding her trembling thighs, tongue swirling and stroking and dancing over her, sucking on her clit. Valentina’s breathing grew ragged and she began to whimper, and Courtney increased the pressure, stroking her thighs.

Her first orgasm was breathy, airy, almost restrained. Courtney pressed a soft tongue against her core, patient. Knowing that soon enough, she’d be doing much better. When her panting began to slow down, Courtney swirled her tongue faster, sliding a finger inside her easily, curling it forward, eliciting a low moan.

Courtney stroked her from the inside, bringing her to the brink, then withdrawing her hand. Valentina whined, clawing at the covers as Courtney licked up her torso, sucking on her nipples, biting gently at her collarbone, kissing her neck up to her pulse point. She threaded her hands into her dark hair and kissed her deeply, grinding her down into the mattress, nuzzling against her face, feeling her flushed cheeks, lifting her head to look into her dazed, hooded eyes, dilated pupils dark with lust.

From the way she squeezed her eyes shut, arching up, muscles tense, Courtney could tell she was on the brink again. This time she sounded slightly more desperate, nails digging into Courtney’s waist. Courtney reached down to help her along, toying with her clit, then pressing the heel of her hand against her while one finger worked inside. Valentina cried out, gasping, her grip on Courtney’s waist like a vice.

Courtney held her, kissing her sweaty temples while she caught her breath.

Valentina’s eyes fluttered, gazing up at Courtney lovingly, and Courtney grinned. “Got anymore in you, baby?”

“I…oh god…”

Courtney laughed, stroking her thigh. “Your decision. I can call it a night if you want. But if you’re up for more…”

“Don’t stop,” she whispered hoarsely.

Smirking, Courtney tilted her chin up to look into her hooded eyes. “How adventurous are you feeling?” She reached behind her, pulling open a drawer of the nightstand, and took out the strap-on, letting it dangle from her fingers by the harness.

Valentina’s chest heaved. She reached a hand up to touch Courtney’s cheek, nodding.

“I’m afraid I need some actual verbal consent here, love.”

Valentina flashed her Miss America smile. “Yes. Yes please.”

Courtney smiled back, turning to slip into the harness, adjusting the straps, covering the whole thing with lube. When she turned back, Valentina was sprawled out on the bed, legs spread, giving her best Playboy pose.

“Okay,” she said in a sultry voice, lashes fluttering. “I’m ready.”

A laugh escaped Courtney’s lips. “Baby…” she kissed Valentina gently on the mouth, hands sliding around her waist. “I’m not just gonna jam it inside you straight off…”

Valentina giggled nervously. “Right.”

“Just relax…” Courtney continued to kiss her until she was breathless, working her way down her body until she was quivering, begging for it. Courtney blew softly on her as she writhed and arched, clawing at Courtney’s hair.

“Please, please, please…” she whined.

Courtney held down her hips, hovering over her, pressing the tip of the dildo against her, teasing, tits brushing against her lightly as she rolled her body forward.

A pitiful moan escaped from Valentina’s lips as she tried in vain to tangle her legs around Courtney’s.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Yes!”

Courtney pushed slowly inside her, sliding her hands around to her ass, holding her close as she sucked gentle kisses into her neck. She rocked her hips, slowly at first, and then speeding up gradually, tongue gently massaging hers, kisses wet and deep.

Valentina began to whimper, nails raking Courtney’s back, digging into her shoulders. Her legs were wrapped tightly around Courtney’s narrow hips, arching up to meet every thrust, clit grinding against Courtney’s, skin burning hot.

Courtney moved a hand to her breast, pinching a nipple between her fingers. A moan escaped her lips as she clawed deeper into Courtney’s skin.

And then she came, moaning until her throat was hoarse and raw, until her body was limp as a rag doll.

Courtney gathered her into her arms, kissing her over and over.

“Was that good, my love?” she murmured, stroking her sticky thighs.

Valentina had snuggled blissfully against her, nodding, drifting off into a contented sleep.

In the morning, Valentina ran her fingers lazily through Courtney’s hair and told her in a breathy whisper that she wanted to cook her breakfast. Courtney kissed her eyelids, told her that wasn’t necessary, but she insisted.

So, dressed in an oversized shirt that was a wrap gift on one of Courtney’s old shows, she bustled around the kitchen trying to make sense of the vegan ingredients on hand while Courtney boiled water for tea and explained what tempeh was.

Afterwards, before she called an uber to head back to her place in Mar Vista, Courtney pushed her onto the sofa and gave her one more orgasm for the road. She was just trying to be a good host. The last red flag was the look of pure, head over heels puppy love that she gave her before shutting the car door, like Courtney was the center of the fucking universe.

#oops

***

VALENTINA: I’M CALLING YOU AGAIN, PICK UP!!!

VALENTINA: Courtneyyyy!! Picckkkk uppp!!!!

***

Valentina sits in front of her mirror, eyes dull with tears. Her phone screen has a crack across the front from when she’d thrown it against the wall yesterday. She closes her eyes, wishing the same things that she had since that awful Monday when her world had come crashing down.

I wish that she would talk to me

I wish that she would love me.

If she can’t love me, then I wish I could forget all of it…the way she looks, the way she smiles, the way she touched me, the way I felt in her arms…every second I spent with her. Please make me forget.

She covers her face, tears leaking through her hands, sobbing quietly until she’s gasping for breath. When she opens her eyes, she hates the reflection that looks back at her in the mirror. She glances down at her phone, fingers itching. She knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t stop herself.

***

VALENTINA: Why are you ignoring me???

VALENTINA: Who the fuck do you think you are?

VALENTINA: Some washed up nobody, working as a fucking extra

VALENTINA: YOU WISH YOU COULD GET SOMEONE LIKE ME

VALENTINA: Please, please answer! 🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

VALENTINA: You rude bitch

VALENTINA: You’re all I think about. I don’t understand why you’re ignoring me. I’ve never felt this way before, about anyone. I know you felt the same way - why won’t you just talk to me? 🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

COURTNEY: Please listen to me. I am not interested. I’m not going to respond again. You need to stop.

***

Courtney sighs, drumming her fork nervously on the table. Valentina has been calling all week with increasing frequency. She flips her phone over so that she doesn’t have to see it lighting up with her name anymore.

“I’m telling you, block her number,” Adore says, turning her hat around. Today it says “FUCK OFF.”

“That’s really extreme. I told her to stop. Now I’m just gonna ignore her; she’ll get bored.”

Bianca shakes her head.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Joan Jett over here. Block her crazy ass before she boils a rabbit.” She takes a bite of lasagna.

“That’s funny,” Adore laughs, mouth full. “She’s funny.”

“I told you,” Courtney says.

“I guess you do have more to offer than your tits,” Adore says. “Cheers.” She holds up her plastic cup.

“Forget it, I don’t agree with anything she says, ever,” Bianca says, rolling her eyes. “Go with your instincts.”

Courtney laughs.

“Thanks, you’re both very helpful.”

***

VALENTINA: I don’t understand why you’re doing this 🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

VALENTINA: I thought you liked me

VALENTINA: This isn’t fair!!! 🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

VALENTINA: Tell me what you want from me

VALENTINA: How can you be so heartless???

VALENTINA: 🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

***

Wondering how it ends with Valentina? Chapter 5 of “Undone” will be posted in full soon! XOXO

[quiddy-writes]

Fuck Me - Dean

@saxxxology is such a fucking enabler. Happy birthday, bitch. Enjoy your series. This chapter’s for me and my fellow Dean whores.

Fun fact: both boys are their season 3 ages.

Another fun fact: I fucking hate titles so much.  All the credit to Saxxy for helping me pick a title.

Fandom: Supernatural & Harry Potter Pairing: DADA Teacher!Dean x Student!Reader Words: 3,671 Summary: A seventh year Hufflepuff finally decides to confess to her crush. He just happens to be her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), a teacher and student fucking (please don’t actually fuck your teachers/students, guys. Let me have my problematic kink, but don’t actually do it) Other Parts: Sam - Dickchat

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Y/N was beyond nervous.

Ellie squeezed her friend’s hand tightly, looking up at her with a reassuring smile. “Breathe, stupid.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Don’t act like you’re not freaking out.”

“Of course I am. I, however, am breathing.”

Y/N ripped her hand from her friend’s and shoved her playfully. “Dick.”

They walked down the grand hallways of Hogwarts, a place that had been their home away from home for seven years now. And this walk down the grand halls would be one of their last.

Exams had ended the day prior, and this was one of their last days as students.

Soon, the girls would be off to St. Mungo’s to train as healers. Both had decided years prior to do so, especially after Ellie was outed as an aurologist. Plus, they worked well together, so their path was set.

They had one other pact still to honor, though.

The start of this year had brought a few staffing changes to the school. Amongst those new changes were two new teachers for both Divination and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The two men were brothers and both must’ve been part Veela or something for how unfairly gorgeous they were.

Dean Winchester, the elder of the two and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was tall and gorgeous. His short, sandy brown hair was always sticking up from him running his thick fingers through it. His green eyes were framed by crinkles when his plush lips pulled back to reveal perfect teeth in a wide smile. He worked his unflattering robes like he was a runway model, and Y/N had spent more classes than she cared to admit imagining what he looked like without the robes. What Y/N loved most about him, however, were his silly jokes that often made her snort in laughter in class and bring out that beautiful smile she dreamed about. They could often be found giggling together after class, talking about anything and everything.

Sam, the other brother and Divination professor, was tall enough to look Hagrid in the eye. With long brown hair that looked like it had walked out of a shampoo advertisement. His hazel eyes were kind and, unlike his brother, he always had a kind word and a simple answer to any questions. He could often be found with Hagrid when he wasn't in his tower, helping with the care of magical creatures. In fact, the first time the girls had seen him, he was caring for the thestrals to lead them to the castle. Ellie would make her way to the grounds outside often to check in her plants in the tents, then wander over to the hut that housed Hagrid in search of the younger Professor Winchester. It was there where he’d shared his secret: he was a legilimens and had been training for years to control it, yet he still sometimes found himself reading other’s minds, even when he didn’t mean to. She’d shared the secret of her own aurology, and a bong was quickly formed that needed no words.

The girls had quickly learned of the other’s crushes and, by the winter holidays, they made a pact: at the end of the year, they'd confess to their professors when they were no longer students. Neither expected anything to come from it, though they were equally convinced that the other would live happily ever after with the professor of their choosing, and so they swore.

Finally, six months later, the time had come.

So they walked to the Divination tower, one much more visibly shaken than the other.

They stood at the bottom and hugged before Ellie went off. Y/N wished her good luck just before her friend went out of sight, and Ellie shouted the same platitude back down the stairs.

Thus, Y/N was left alone to walk, on jelly legs, towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts. She wrung her fingers, feeling increasingly nauseous with every step. It felt like eternity before she finally came to the dark wooden door. She took one last deep breath, trying to stop her shaking as she knocked.

She heard his deep voice answer her with an invitation to come in. She closed her eyes, sent up a prayer to whatever deity she could think of, and pushed open the heavy door.

Dean was sat on top of his desk, thumbing through an old book she didn’t recognize. His eyes darted up and, once he recognized her, he smiled. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted.

“Good morning, Professor,” she was so proud her voice only wavered a little.

He waved her off, closing his notebook and placing it on his desk behind him. “Please, Y/N, I’m no longer your professor. Just Dean is fine.”

“Oh,” she flushed, not expecting that.

“So, what can I do for you?”

“Ah,” she started, suddenly unable to swallow. “I simply wished to…to say goodbye.”

Dean’s smile faltered. “Yeah, that’s right. You’re off to St. Mungo’s, aren’t you?”

She cocked her head to the side. “How did you know that?”

“You told me,” his brow furrowed. “Remember?”

She vaguely remembered it, but, honestly, she could barely remember anything from before her final exams at this point. “That must’ve been months ago.”

He laughed. “You remember who wants to be a healer when everyone else wants to play professional Quidditch.”

That simple statement made her feel better and worse at the same time. “Aw, and here I thought I was special,” she joked.

Dean shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint.”

She waved him off. “I’m only joking.”

“Well,” he laughed. “This is an awkward goodbye.”

She swallowed thickly. “I…” she breathed deep. “I think I’m about to make it more awkward.”

His brow raised. “Sorry?”

She closed her eyes and took one final, deep breath.

“Y/N?”

She opened her eyes and answered with an awkward smile. “I’m in love with you.”

“O-Oh…” Dean stuttered, his eyes wide enough to nearly roll out of his skull. “I, uh…you…what?”

“Look, I don’t expect anything,” she said. “I’m not an idiot. I just…I’d rather get it out there than hold it in and that’s crazy selfish of me, I know, but…”

Dean hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed since her confession, something she finally noticed. She waved her hand in front of his face. “Hello?”

When he still didn’t respond, she ran a hand through her hair. “Please,” she huffed. “Can you say something so we can be done with this?”

“Wh-What the hell am I supposed to say?!”

“I don’t know,” she said. “How about ‘I’m flattered, but obviously I don’t return your feelings?’”

Dean’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I, uh…” he tried before falling silent again.

Finally, she’d had enough. Her face was on fire, her knees were shaking, and her heart was aching enough to take her to Madame Pomfrey’s at this rate. “Look, you know what? It’s fine. Have a good day, Professor.”

She turned on her heel, more than ready to go back to her friend’s room in the Hufflepuff dorm and maybe indulge in some of Ellie’s more medicinal plants, when she was suddenly stopped.

Her fingers twitched for her wand on instinct, but she managed to look before she acted. Dean was off of his desk, his large hand gripping her hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

“You’re hurting me,” she grumbled, trying to wrench her arm away from him.

He immediately dropped her like she was on fire. “Sorry,” he flushed.

“Next time you want me to stay, use your words,” she joked, trying to ease some of the tension.

“Come on,” Dean twined his fingers with Y/N’s, pulling her towards the back of the room.

She frowned. “Wha—Where are we going?”

“Someone could come in,” he muttered, the tips of his ears turning pink.

She followed in silence, up the steps to the small office that she’d never actually been in before.

It was mostly clean now, with one or two half open trunks mostly filled. A few pictures still hung on the wall, mostly ones of the two brothers as they looked now or slightly younger. One, however, caught her eye: a small boy, a baby in the arms of a beautiful blonde, and an older raven-haired man, all standing together, laughing.

She smiled when she recognized the bright green eyes of her professor in the little boy.

Y/N’s head whipped around at the sound of the door shutting quietly, Dean leaning back against it like he couldn’t stand on his own.

She leaned back against his desk, her nerves growing with every passing moment.

After a short eternity of silence, she finally had to ask. “Why didn’t you just let me leave?”

He frowned, his brow furrowing. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

A large hand ran down over his face, a heavy sigh of frustration leaving him as he did so. “I couldn’t, not like that.”

Hope swelled in her chest and her breathing started coming out short, like there wasn’t enough air in the room. “Why not?”

He finally looked at her. “Because…I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about you that way.”

The biggest smile she’d ever had cracked her face. “Yeah?”

“But, I mean…I’m twelve years older than you.”

“So?”

He rolled his eyes. “You really don’t think it’ll be an issue?”

She pushed herself off of his desk, which made Dean tense slightly. “Do you love me?”

It took a long time for him to answer, and, when he did, it was with a simple nod; a simple nod that looked like it almost pained him, like he was unsure it was the right move.

With that, she began walking slowly toward him, afraid of spooking him. “Then, I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly care about what assholes might say.”

He smirked, even though a hint of doubt still obviously plagued him. “You sure?”

She answered by slowly running her hands from his elbows upwards, before encircling them around his neck. He watched her the entire time. Moving at the same pace, she pushed herself up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

His lips were even softer than she’d imagined, late at night when she was alone in her dorm. His calloused hands came up to hold her face in place, like he was afraid she’d pull away.

She had no intention of doing any such thing.

Her arms grabbed the labels of his robe, pulling herself up on her tiptoes to press her body against his.

His hands trailed down to the clasp of her Hufflepuff robes and quickly undid it. He then helped her shrug it off and onto the floor. Her fingers found his loosened tie and practically ripped it off of him. It snapped from the velocity, and Dean pulled away in shock.

She offered a sheepish smile, to which Dean simply shrugged and began kissing her once again. He pulled her tie apart, then it joined his on the floor. Dean then rolled his shoulders, letting his robes pool around his feet, before returning his hands to her waist. Giving her plenty of time to pull away, his hands pulled her dress shirt from her skirt. Then, they trailed up underneath it, his rough fingers scratching a bit at her skin.

Her own shaky fingers began unbuttoning his shirt. After a minute or so of fumbling, his bare chest was revealed to her, and she began exploring.

Her shirt was unbuttoned without her notice and it fell to the floor, leaving her only in her bra and skirt.

Shoes were kicked off as Dean’s lips trailed down her jaw, neck, and to her collar bone. His light stubble scratched at her soft skin, bordering on ticklish. She shoved his shirt off his shoulders, whining quietly when he didn’t immediately move his hands from her back.

He chuckled and pulled the shirt off before immediately resuming his old position, mouthing along the cups of her bra.

She laughed breathlessly, her fingers tangling in his short hair.

“What?” he mumbled, leaning up to suckle on her collarbone.

“Can’t believe this is happening, that’s all.”

He pulled away, looking worried. “I don’t…I’ve never been with a student before. You’re special, alright?”

She pushed herself up on her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I know.”

“And this isn’t a one time thing. I’m taking you out after graduation.”

“Can’t wait.”

“I’m serious.”

She gave him a soft smile, and answered by pulling his lips back to hers. “I know,” she mumbled.

The last articles of their clothing hit the floor until they were only in their undergarments.

Dean pulled away again, which made Y/N pout and try to reel him back in. He chuckled, disentangling himself from her. “Gimme me a sec.”

She stood and watched as Dean took his own robe and laid it out gently on the ground. He then turned to her and held his hand out. “Is this okay?”

“It’s perfect,” she took his hand and squeezed it.

With a giant grin gracing his features, Dean climbed down onto the robe and pulled her along with him. She settled herself in his lap, straddling him. She leaned down, not letting an inch of space between them, and kissed him. One of his hands rested on her hip, whilst the other hand rested between her shoulderblades, holding her close.

She pulled away when she couldn’t breathe, bringing Dean into a sitting position with her.

Dean took that as his cue. His hand on her back ran down to her bra clasp and undid it in one try. She threw it behind them and Dean palmed her breasts. He massaged them with his fingers and tongue, finding every place that made her moan and marking her as his. His teeth worried her nipples, turning them red and swollen. Dark, purple marks were beginning to mar her skin.

Her own fingers carded in his hair, tugging lightly on the sandy brown locks. She fell forward, only being held up by Dean. Her hips began grinding down onto his growing erection, looking for some sort of relief.

He bucked up into her, his hands grabbing her hips to guide her a little better.

She yanked back Dean’s head a little too roughly and looked into his glazed green eyes. Her lips crashed against his, soft moans muffled by the connection as they continued to grind against each other.

“Stop,” she finally pulled away, trying to catch her breath.

“Are you okay?” Dean spoke between pants, still managing to sound concerned.

She nodded. “More than.” With that, she stood up and began pulling down her panties.

Dean watched, unable to look away as she, rather ungracefully, disentangled herself from the ruined piece of clothing.

She stood before him, completely naked and with an audience thoroughly entranced. Dean’s hands trailed up her thighs to her hips, pulling her close.

“What’re you doing?”

He smirked up at her, pressing kisses up her inner thigh.

“O-Oh…you, uh…really?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Mind?!” she coughed. “No, by all means!”

He gave her that smirk that made her melt, then pressed a soft kiss to her folds. He nudged her legs open enough to give him space to work his magic.

His finger disappeared into his mouth before reappearing at her entrance, nudging at her.

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to keep in the sounds Dean was eliciting.

He sucked at her clit and puffy outer lips in turn, finding the parts that made her shake and pull at his hair.

Finally, when he was two fingers deep inside her, she had to push him away. He pouted, but that stopped when she resumed straddling him and pulled him into another passionate kiss. Then her lips left him and continued down a trail similar to the one Dean had traveled down her body.

He knew what was coming without needing to hear her say it. “Baby—”

“It’s my turn,” she spoke evenly, confidently.

With that, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, but made no other move to stop her.

She acquainted herself with every inch of his chest, her taut nipples brushing lightly against his hips and thighs as she moved further down.

Finally, she was met with Dean’s dick, hard, weeping, and pressed against his stomach. Her eyes flicked up to meet his as she pressed a soft kiss to the large vein that ran on the underside.

He hissed, fisting the robe underneath him.

She took that as a good sign and began pressing soft kisses from the base up and, when she got to the tip, her tongue slipped out and lapped at the slit. That brought another sound she’d never heard from her professor’s lips, so she did it again.

Then she took one last deep breath and took the head into her mouth.

One of his hands grabbed her hair, not pulling or guiding her in any way, but more for purchase.

She took as much as she could into her mouth, her hand wrapping around what she couldn’t fit. She found a rhythm as best she could, twisting her wrist as she bobbed up and down. One of her hands rested on his hip, putting a token effort into holding him in place. His hips still thrust into her mouth of their own accord, but he tried to hold himself back for her after she gagged the first time.

Finally, he sat up and pulled her lips back to his.

With that, she sat back in his lap, still kissing Dean like she needed him more than oxygen.

“You sure you wanna do this?”

She laughed, pulling him in for a quick kiss. Then her hand reached down and grabbed him, lining him up. “If you’re in, so am I.”

He chuckled. “I’m about to be in.”

That pulled a snort from her, and she buried her head in the crook of his neck. “That was awful.”

“It’s why you love me.”

She pulled back with a small smile. “Yeah, it is,” she murmured, her fingers trailing along his hairline.

He looked at her like she was one of the Seven Wonders of the World. His hands brushed up her thighs to her hip and pulled lightly downwards, and she obliged.

She had to take a minute once he was fully seated inside her. Dean laid fully back, breathing deep. Y/N took his hands from her hips and interlaced their fingers together, smiling breathlessly. He answered her by squeezing her hands lightly.

With that, she began moving slowly. She rubbed herself back and forth, watching his face for any and all reactions. He never took his eyes off of her. His look of complete adoration made her feel even hotter, and she was sure that she was blushing more than ever before. Instead she started lifting her hips and dropping back down slowly, and she forgot all about her own nerves.

Suddenly, Dean separated their hands, instead wrapping them around her to pull her onto him. She gripped Dean at the base of his skull, pulling him in for a kiss as her movement became limited. Dean’s began moving his hips up into her in sharp bursts, unable to help himself anymore.

She pulled away, letting her forehead fall against his as she tried to remember how her limbs worked.

The world shifted suddenly as Dean sat up, letting her put some more weight onto her knees. One of his hands still rested on her upper back, but the other fell to her hips, guiding her movements.

They moved together, Dean kissing at any patch of skin he could reach when he could breathe, and Y/N wrapped herself around him tightly.

She felt the pressure building up inside her and she was nearly over the top. She was trying to speak, tried to tell him what was going on, but speech was beyond her. Dean knew anyway. He pulled her into a kiss, and the hand on her back pushed her closer.

Nothing in particular triggered her orgasm, but more of the entire situation, more the fact that every fiber of her was being held together by Dean. He followed her immediately after, unable to hold himself back any longer with her walls fluttering around him.

When they could each breathe again, Dean slowly laid himself back down on the floor, pulling her with him to lay on his chest, being careful not to dislodge himself from her.

A moment passed before either could speak, and Dean was first, “Son of a bitch.”

She giggled, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “I don’t know if my legs are working right now.”

“Sweetheart, you aren’t the only one.”

The pulled more giddy laughter from her.

They were silent a minute more before Dean spoke again. “I meant it, you know. That this isn’t a one time thing.”

“I know,” she said. “It might be a little hard with me over at St. Mungo’s, but…”

“We at least have the summer. And we’ll only be a Floo trip away once school starts.”

She began to shiver, reaching over for her robe and wand. She sat up fully, finally letting Dean slip out of her. With a swish of her wand, both parties (along with Dean’s robe) were clean. She then laid down beside him and pulled her cloak over the both of them.

Dean pulled her into a hug, settling her in. “You don’t have to go anywhere, right?”

“I promised I’d meet Ellie in her dorm when I was done,” she said. “Why, you wanna cuddle?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, holding her closer. Then a sly grin came over his face, and he turned to her. “You’re meeting Ellie when you’re done here, right?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Yes…why?”

With that he rolled over on top of her and, right before he crashed his lips to hers, he said, “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

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Dean Tags: @akshi8278

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[alwaysanotherooc]

Why do you think Diavolos could be a good match for Raydan?

Ok, let’s get into this.

Raydan and DIavolos have so much in common. They were both born into and raised in situations that should have killed them, or, at the very least, turned them into bitter, hateful, rage fueled husks of human beings. But they’re not like that. They have honor and compassion and they care about people on a level that most others just don't. They’re born and natural leaders, each in their own way. They both know how to walk, talk, and act in places where they know they are surrounded by people who want them dead. They both know how to survive with everything they’ve got, no matter the cost, but as much as that’s true, if by sacrificing themselves they can save someone else, you bet your ass they’d do it.

Diavolos is so sick and tired and hurt by his life before Kenna that he’s the kind of person who never lets anyone get too close, he doesn’t trust anyone, not even his soldiers who he loves so dearly. He does what he can and what he should to be honorable and brave like any good prince should...but he can’t ever believe it will be enough to make people forget who he is, and who his family is. He’s seen his family torture and murder and laugh wildly about it and it sickens him, but he knows he’s got that part in him as well. And he’s trying to do his best to not be like them...but sometimes he’s worried that it’s something he’ll never be able to get rid of, something that will always be haunting his every thought.

Raydan grew up knowing that the world around him was a thousand percent awful, a thousand percent of the time, and you had to sweat and bleed to carve out even a split second of peace for yourself, Raydan learned quickly how to use his beautiful face and smooth husky voice to get what he needed without drawing a blade, though he could still do that if necessary, but despite being so charming and seemingly carefree, Raydan always knew what people did behind closed doors, what they said and did when no one was looking, and knowing how some people you look up to are actually awful at heart weighs on you. Raydan smiles and flirts but never lets anyone into the one safe place he has, his bed unless he can trust them. Needless to say, that’s a rare occurrence.

Once the two of them meet, they strike up a camaraderie, because, after all, they are the two people in the room that no one trusts, no matter what they do. Diavolos is a Nevrakis and they’re nothing but pure evil, and Raydan is the traitor who shot the Queen’s wife/best friend. So, as any two outcasts do, they start hanging around one another, and it sort of just...it’s just different, for both of them. Raydan flirts and charms and laughs, same as ever, and he can tell it’s working to some extent on the Prince, but it also...feels different. He can’t quite explain why there’s this strange sense of total understanding between them, even on opposite sides of the war table while planning battles. And Diavolos feels it too, but he tells himself to ignore the wide yawing pull in his gut that says, ‘This could be yours’. Because yes, Raydan is beautiful and he flirts and laughs at Diavolos’ sly complaints about courtly life, but nothing is ever truly going to belong to Diavolos, his father told him that long ago.

Their relationship deepens and strengths through this mutual feeling of companionship, built on the fact that they know the same things about life that would kill lesser men, and their conversations held quietly against the wall during a gala soon turn to equally quiet confessions about their lives and what has been done to them while staring at the stars. And before either of them knows it, they’ve confessed their deepest and darkest secrets to each other, because who could better understand than the other? And for Raydan, who’s spent his whole life shrouded in mysteries pulled tight around him like armor, that’s when it clicks. That’s when he looks at Diavolos, the cynical and love starved man with an honorable soul hidden beneath, and thinks, ‘Oh. Of course. It’s you. It’s going to be you.’ And Diavolos, who’s had to keep his cards tight to his chest since birth, hears that voice get louder, ‘This could be yours, look at him.’ But he can’t comprehend the thought that Raydan, who’s been beaten and bruised by life so many times and still has a heart of gold, would ever truly want him.

Then, during the battle against Azura, Diavolos nearly gets his head chopped off when he sees, from a great distance, Azura advancing on Raydan, lightning flaring from her fingertips and scorching through the air and even through the distance and the clamor of the battle, Diavolos seems to hear Raydan’s soft inhale of resignation just before it strikes. But then Val screams, shoving her way between them, and Diavolos has to turn back to his own part of the battle, the terror and rage of seeing Raydan in danger fueling him to push harder and farther, his soldiers following suit. And when they are later all within the throne room and his father lies dead at his feet and his blood stains his sword, he hears Raydan chuckle in relief. “Oh thank hea-” But Raydan doesn’t get to finish because Diavolos has strode over to him, shoved him against a wall and kissed him, fiercely, deeply. Kenna calls them to her as Azura still advances, and just before they turn back to the battle, Diavolos whispers to Raydan, “I was not going to let either of us live a moment longer without doing that.” Raydan grins, eyes bright and mouth red, “You’d better not die on me now, Prince, I have plans for you.”

Kenna wins, because of course she does, and the whole Five Kingdoms armies are celebrating and drinking together, and even Azura’s army celebrates with them, to a new era of peace across their great lands. But Diavolos and Raydan are not there. They are off in the distance, kissing lazily and laughing against each other's skin under the stars, drunk off of being alive and being together. 

TLDR: Raydan and Diavolos can understand every facet of each other and would be the most supportive, loving couple ever.

[cakelanguage]

Here is part 2 of the fic for the prompt:  Dorian from DAI prompt (any pairing) w/ 77. “Maybe I’m meant to be alone.” This has the happy ending in it!

Part 1

You can also read it on AO3

Bull’s door is never locked, it’s a fact that the man boosts about, that he never has to go looking for bed partners. It helps that he isn’t picky, Dorian decides. He himself would say that there are aspects of a partner that Dorian is more inclined to, but he’s never afforded true pickiness for himself. He counts himself lucky when someone spares him the time of day.

Even with Bull’s open door policy, it takes him almost a week to muster up the courage to come to the man’s room. He takes time in his own grooming himself, making sure he paints on his confidence with the kohl around his eyes, the special small clothes he’d bought in Val Royeaux clinging to him in all the right ways. He wears something nice, but an article he doesn’t care too much about just in case. He adds an extra dab of perfume behind his ears, a warm, spicy floral scent that lingers like an old friend. Vanity is a shield Dorian has clung to since he’d first been called pretty.

The walk to the Herald’s Rest is quiet and he feels restless in his own body. Why is this so different? He hears uproarious laughter before he enters the tavern and he feels his shoulder’s ease into a more relaxed position. He puts on his best face and walks in before he can second guess himself.

The place is reasonably full, and he can see the Chargers all seated together in their corner. He should go up to Cabot and order a drink, mingle a while, perhaps tempt Bull for something more exciting upstairs but Dorian can’t get himself to move. Instead he makes his way to the stairs, putting an extra sway to his hips than he usually has. Bull catches him before he can reach the stairs and gives him a curious look. A sultry smirk makes its way on Dorian’s face and he playfully quirks a finger in a come hither gesture. The grin he gets back is positively lewd and Dorian feels his cheeks flush as he continues up the stairs to Bull’s room.

The room is cleaner than he’d thought it’d be and Bull’s multitude of axes are propped in the corner. He sees little knickknacks on top of the small dresser that he’s seen Bull pickup every once in a while on their travels. He would’ve continued examining the room had Bull not suddenly joined him, the door closing with a clunk.

“So, you finally decided to come see me,” Bull said, his lewd grin from before seemingly getting bigger.

Dorian sniffed haughtily. “You’re the one with the open door policy, I’m just reaping the benefits so to speak,” Dorian replied. He hopes it sounded more convincing aloud than it had in his head.

Bull hummed and took a step closer to him. His large hand cupped Dorian’s neck tenderly and laid his thumb against Dorian’s bottom lip. It’s so achingly intimate and Dorian can’t help but feel like something treasured in that moment. “What can I do for you then, Dorian?”

It takes a few moments for Dorian to find his words, but Bull is patient. “I thought you would know what I needed, that’s what you do isn’t it?”

Bull nods. “You want me to choose?”

“Do you think you can’t?”

Bull laughs at that, full bellied and beautiful. “No I got it, just making sure. You can ask for anything and we could work it out.” He says it so confidently, like Dorian asking him for anything is a small thing. “But you have to promise me, if I do anything that you don’t like, anything at all, and you want me to stop, you say ‘Katoh.’” The Iron Bull’s face is so serious that Dorian doesn’t even question it. “You say that and I’ll stop, no questions asked, okay?”

“Yes, yes, I got it thank you.” Bull gave him a hard look and Dorian rolled his eyes. “Yes, I promise I will say ‘Katoh’ if it gets to be too much, alright?”

Bull gave a small rumble of approval before he let his thumb pull Dorian’s lip down just a bit, letting the lips part. Dorian slowly brushed his tongue against the grooves along the pad of the thumb. It’s salty and there is the sharp bitter flavor of Ferelden ale that’s mostly gone. The soft groan that Bull released sent a spark of arousal through him.

He reached his hands up, wrapped them around Bull’s horns and directed Bull down until their lips met. It was hungry. Primal. Their teeth clanking uncomfortably before Bull shifts Dorian’s head to a better position. Then it’s achingly perfect; Bull trailing his tongue against the seam of Dorian’s lips before Dorian let him in. The taste of Ferelden ale was stronger as Bull’s tongue maps out his mouth and Dorian could have sworn he tasted hints of citrus.

The pitiful whine that left his throat as Bull pulled away made the other man smile as he slowly backed them both towards the bed. Dorian fell back onto the mattress with the firm press of Bull’s hand against his chest and he wiggled his way to the middle.

Bull’s hands trail along the fabric of his robes before, with a delicacy Dorian didn’t know he possessed, unclasped the buckles holding the material in place. Dorian moved his hands to help, but Bull gently grabbed his hands and guided them above his hand.

“Just relax,” Bull said with a wink. “I’ve got you.”

Dorian felt his cheeks flush hotly and he silently scolded himself for acting like some chaste Sister. His focus returned back to Bull when the man finished undressing Dorian’s upper body. He dutifully lifted his hips and then upper back to allow Bull to pull his robes completely off of him and onto the floor. Bull made an appreciative noise and leaned down to begin placing kisses along his collarbone and down his chest.

This is what Dorian was familiar with. Sex was sex, he didn’t have to think about feelings especially when Bull captured his nipple. Dorian moaned as the nub was worried between Bull’s teeth before the wet drag of his tongue soothed the ache. He lavished in the attention, delighting in the gentle massage of the Qunari’s hands against his arms running up until their hands met. Bull didn’t even hesitate when he laced their fingers together briefly, giving a comforting squeeze before repeating the action.

Dorian fought back the wave of emotion that hit him unexpectedly at the action, instead wrapping his legs around the Qunari’s waist attempting to pull him closer. All it did was elicit a rumble of laughter from Bull that sent pleasant vibrations through his body.

“Impatient aren’t you?” Bull asked, his nose grazing Dorian’s jaw. “I already told you, I’m going to take care of you. Take a deep breath, you’re way to tense right now.” Bull’s hands were still laced together with his own. “It’s just you,” a chaste kiss against the skin right below his ear, “and me,” a warm brush of air against his ear that sent shivers down his spine. “Focus on this moment.”

He wasn’t aware he was letting his slight distress interrupt their moment, but Bull just continued to reassure him. To lock him into this moment, where lips and tongue and sensual touches were all that mattered. Where the little gasps and cries of Bull’s name were beautiful. Where each moan was a confession on Dorian’s tongue, tied up in more pressing matters like the weight of Bull’s cock against his tongue and the Bull’s tongue dancing with his own. Where Bull’s gentle pets through his hair were more grounding than trying to force himself not to fall further in love with the other man.

It was too late anyway.

He’s a garble of moans masquerading as words by the time Bull gently prods his opening with an oil slicked finger. “Relax, big guy,” Bull said, slowly pushing in the first finger. “I’ve got you.”

Dorian wants to tell him, to tell Bull that he always has him. Forever if he wanted. But that isn’t what comes out, even when he’s delirious with pleasure. “More.”

Bull rubs a thumb against the jutting bone of Dorian’s hip, continuing the lazy pumps of his finger in Dorian. “Patience,” he said as if Dorian had any more to offer. He continues at the same steady pace edging deliciously close to the spot inside him that makes him feel sparks across his spine. Bull continues his game, listening with a grunt of approval as Dorian mumbles his praise. After a while Bull nudges a second finger against the hole where already one finger is stretching it. “I’m pushing the next one in okay?”

It’s a tighter fit, but nothing Dorian can’t handle. If anything he relishes in the delectable burn and the jolting pleasure that courses through him when Bull brushes against his prostate. He hisses softly when the fingers scissor inside him, but Bull is quick to capture his lips to distract him. Bull really does know what he needs, doesn’t he?

Their kiss breaks when Dorian has to tilt his head to the side to release a moan, Bull’s fingers slowly rubbing against the spot inside him. It seems that Bull enjoys the noises that he can coax out of Dorian because he keeps doing it, keeps the steady, slow glide of his fingers inside of him.

“Bull,” Dorian’s voice is hoarse as it breaks away from a whine. “Bull, please- no more teasing please.”

But the man just grins. “So polite now.” The way he says it makes Dorian want to both puff up in mock offense and sink into the praise. “Good boy.”

He releases a shuddering breath and looks coyly up at Bull, knowing he must paint a pretty picture: bronze skin flushed and slick, chest heaving, cock standing at attention, and Bull’s fingers stretching him open. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d love to have you inside me some time this age, please.”

Bull snorts, slipping another finger into the mage and enjoying the gasp he releases. “Polite, but impatient.”

“P-plenty patient.”

The Qunari shakes his head. “You’re supposed to take in the moment, lose track of time, lose yourself even for a moment.” Bull moves his free hand to the curve of Dorian’s back to match the arch. “Maybe next time we’ll try a blindfold and some restraints.”

Dorian nods frantically, feeling his orgasm approaching fast. “B-Bull, I’m not going to last if you keep this up.”

“Never said you had to, the nights still young.” Bull pulls away from him so the man can look at him. “Let go, Dorian.”

And he does. The pleasure spikes so sharply that it draws an almost pained cry of Bull’s name from his lips. His cum splatters against his abdomen and he tries to catch his breath.

“Damn, you’re pretty.” The Iron Bull mutters, refocusing on his efforts at making sure Dorian’s fully prepped for him. “You okay to keep going?”

Dorian manages to get out a pitiful ‘yes,’ still trying to capture his bearings. It’s weird that he’s still hard, hasn’t occurred since Rilienus, not that he’s complaining. Bull’s fingers are stretching him so nicely, but he wishes that he had Bull’s cock instead.

The Iron Bull should add mind-reader to his list of skills because Bull is suddenly pulling his fingers from Dorian. He feels open, his hole clenching around the sudden departure of the fingers that had spread his opening. He watches as the Iron Bull spreads oil across his length with a hunger that he’s kept under control until now.

“You ready for me, big guy?”

Of course Bull would still check if it was okay, Dorian thinks fondly with no small amount of warmth. He cares about people, about him. He reaches his arms out to Bull. “Come here, you big oaf.”

“Not the nicest thing to say to someone who’s about to fuck you.”

Dorian makes an amused hum. “Only said with affection, Bull.”

Bull rolls his eyes, but leans over him and hefting Dorian’s hips up so that his cock can drag along the crack of Dorian’s ass. He slowly directs his cock to Dorian’s hole and makes sure to watch Dorian’s face for any signs that he’s in pain.

It’s slow going, Bull’s shallow thrusts only a fraction of what Dorian wants. And he does. He aches for Bull to be fully seated in him, for the ache of being stretched and the warm, pulsating appendage filling him. Dorian carefully folds his legs around Bull and pulls them closer together. Bull surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, lets Dorian pull them together so that their hips are flushed against each other’s. Dorian might let out an elated giggle, not that anyone has to know.

But Bull doesn’t increase his pace at all now that his fully seated, instead favoring the small thrusts that light up Dorian’s nerves. He feels like little bolts of electricity are traveling through his limbs, his mind a pleasure filled buzz of Bull and desire for more. The Qunari strokes Dorian’s cock from the base to the tip, thumbing at the head and Dorian is gone in another orgasm.

The second orgasm is what triggers Bull to speed up his movements. What were once shallow thrusts turn into a hard piston, the man’s muscles flexing attractively against Dorian’s ass and the slap of skin echoes through the room along with the harsh panting.

Painful pleasure tugs at Dorian, his cock aching and spent, but he still wants. He doesn’t even know tears have escaped his eyes until Bull is kissing them away, his rhythm unbroken. Dorian desperately pulls the man into another kiss, their teeth clanking slightly. It doesn’t last though, both in dire need of breath and they pant against each other’s lips.

Bull leans their foreheads together. “Can you come for me again, Dorian?”

“I can’t, I can’t, Bull.”

Bull’s tugging at his cock again, matching the speed of his thrusts and Dorian shouts, the painful pleasure increasing. “Yes you can. You can do that for me, right?” His thrusts are growing erratic, but he isn’t slowing down. “Come on Dorian, just one more.” Dorian lets out a keen, his body trembling. “Cum for me, Dorian.”

It’s the way Bull growls his name that sends Dorian tumbling into orgasm for the third time. Bull quickly chases after his own orgasm and Dorian feels the warm cum splash against his walls.

They lay there, coming down from their high and Dorian could honestly stay there forever. Their bodies pressed together, warm and safe in a way that he’s missed. He basks in the moment, clinging to the recesses of their union that still encapsulate them.

He isn’t sure how long they take to catch their breath, but the Iron Bull carefully pulls out of Dorian and stands up from the bed. Dorian watches through lidded eyes as the other man goes to the corner of the room to a small washbowl full of water. The man first cleans himself up before dipping the clothe back in and bringing it over to Dorian. He cleans Dorian’s stomach first before carefully cleaning Dorian’s hole, being sure to catch any cum that has leaked out of him. He’d debated on whether to tell Bull to let it be, but he knows it’d feel disgusting later.

Besides, the care Bull is putting into this small act makes him feel special. He could even say loved, if he didn’t know how bad it was to delude oneself.

He tries getting up but is gently pushed back into the mattress. Bull gives him a playful smile that pulls at the scar on the man’s lip. “Relax, you don’t have to rush out.”

Dorian can’t help but match the smile, even though the words make his heart clench in his chest. “Perhaps a while longer will be alright.”

Bull nudges his shoulder and catches Dorian’s hand when the man bats back at him. He brings the hand to his lips and places a kiss on each knuckle. Dorian’s cheeks flush and he ducks his head so he doesn’t have to see the soft look that Bull is giving him.

After a while, when Bull is sleeping Dorian maneuvers his way out of the bed and gathers his clothes, dressing quickly. He spares a glance at the Qunari before he quietly leaves the room, his night with Bull coming to an end.

In an act of rebellion against his better judgment, he leaves his silky smallclothes on Bull’s floor.

 The Iron Bull has no discretion, not that Dorian expected him to, but he wasn’t expecting him to bring it up in front of their party. Senna gives him a wide-eyed look and looks imploringly at Bull before turning her gaze back to him. He knows she’s asking if he told Bull about his feelings so he shakes his head. Senna’s shoulders droop and it makes her look smaller than she already is.

 The thing he has going on with Bull continues whenever they aren’t out with the Inquisitor. Even once while they were, in the depths of the Emerald Graves where fireflies float around like balls of magic. Dorian finds himself falling more in love with the man each day, and he keeps it bottled up tightly.

He ignores Senna’s pleas to tell Bull how he feels.

He and Bull experiment more now, trying out different things to see what they like. Ropes are a classic for them, blindfold on occasion when they need to lose themselves in the moment, and on a memorable occasion fire licking at the edges of his mouth to imitate the dragon they had fought. He’d set the curtains on fire after the fourth round of sex.

He doesn’t anything has changed, but Senna renews her effort to get Dorian to tell Bull his feelings with a ferocity he’s seen targeted at when defeating darkspawn. And she keeps asking him about what’s going on between them.

“I’m just asking as your friend, Dorian,” Senna insists.

“Things are fine,” Dorian is surprised that he means it. Bull flirts with him openly and isn’t ashamed to admit they sleep together.

“But you have to know that something is there.”

Dorian sighs. “It’s something,” he concedes. “A whole lot of something.”

But it’s their something.

 He says it in a moment of post-orgasmic bliss, the Tevene rolling off his tongue. “Amatus.”

Bull, who was running his fingers along his spine pauses, and he pauses, his eye twinkling in the low torchlight. “Kadan,” the word rolls around in his mouth like marbles, his chest rumbling pleasantly underneath Dorian’s.

The meaning of the word is lost on Dorian, but it’s said with such affection that Dorian doesn’t doubt the weight of it, instead snuggling into the Bull’s chest.

 Varric brings it up in a proposal for a book.

“Two worlds tearing them apart, Tevinter and Qunari, with only love to keep them together,” Varric said as they trekked through the Frostback Basin.

Dorian lets out a huff. “I don’t see how this is even remotely your business, Varric.”

Senna is grinning like a loon and he imagines if she were sitting down she’d have her chin propped up on her hands like an eager child. “I like it, Varric,” she adds.

“See, the Inquisitor can appreciate the makings of good literature.”

The Iron Bull rubs the back of his head and Dorian can see the makings of a blush on the man’s cheeks. Though that could be the cold. “Could you make it sound angrier? ‘Love’ is a bit soft.”

Dorian starts to object, but Varric cuts in. “How about passion?” Varric asked.

Bull lets the word mull over in his head before nodding. “Yes, that’s better. Love is all starlight and gentle blushes. Passion leaves your fingers sore from clawing the sheets.”

Dorian thinks it’s both but he lets it slide for now.

 When he finally admits it, tells Bull his feelings the man just gives him that soft smile and responds with the one thing Dorian has always wanted.

“I love you too, Kadan.”

He was finally enough.

[fandomlife-giver]

His Maid, Standing By

Summary: One second, I need to adjust myself. Ah, this atmosphere is so thick, I can hardly breathe like a human for much longer. Normally I wouldn't, but unfortunately, the human across from me would most likely be horrified from it.

Next Time on Black Maid: "His Maid, Standing By" You see, I am simply one hell of a maid.

Pairings: Sebastian x Demon!Reader

@wintersdoll​

Warnings: Blood, surprise ending!

Word Count: 3487

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Ciel sat at his desk, staring. Not at the paperwork scattered across it. Not at the chocolate cake beside his tea in front of him. Not at the unfinished tower of cards, either. He was staring at the ring.

The ring left to him by his maid. The maid that had left him, abandoned him to stay with the Angel that killed his parents. But he didn't even care about that.

He looked up from the ring. "Have you found anything?"

Sebastian stood in the darkness surrounding the corner of the room with his face clear of any emotion. "No. There has been no word from the Queen and no-one has witnessed seeing anyone fitting Y/N's description."

Ciel sighed. "I've always seen her wear this. I've never thought twice about it. But...there is something familiar about it."

Sebastian looked to the side and became deep in thought. I hate to even think of it, but I know as much about her as the servants in this manor do. All I know is that she is a demon, a feline at that, and can be a complete tease when nobody is watching. Because of that, there is only one person who knows her better than anyone else in England.

Ciel looked up by hearing Sebastian clear his throat. "Master, there is someone who can tell us the origin of this ring. Perhaps even the whereabouts of Y/N."

Ciel rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me..."

. . .

The sounds of humming filled the building. The origin of it was reading a coffin catalog and turned the page. "Ooh, that looks lovely." He circled a black one with silver carvings from the pen beside him and grabbed another bone-shaped biscuit.

When the bell rang, signaling the entrance of a customer, he held up a finger as he finished chewing on it. "Just a moment, please." He took a couple more bites and swallowed, then sat up and looked towards the entrance.

He grinned once he saw Ciel, but frowned when he realized the only person shadowing him was his butler.

Ciel walked closer to the coffin he was sitting in. "Undertaker, I'm glad you're here."

Said person was still frowning and stood up from the coffin and stepped out. He kept his arms at his sides as he walked to the counter. "Lord Phantomhive. What could you possibly need this time?"

Ciel was taken back at the slightly annoyed tone in his voice, but still stepped forward. "I need you to tell me what you know..." He reached into his pocket and held up the ring. "About this."

Undertaker stopped and stared directly at the ring, then scoffed under his breath. "So...she's finally doing it."

He glanced at Sebastian as Ciel furrowed his brows. "Doing what?"

Undertaker continued to stare at Sebastian, then looked at Ciel, turned and walked towards the back. "This way, now. Follow me."

Sebastian looked to Ciel, who quickly walked towards Undertaker, then silently followed behind. They followed Undertaker to the very back of the parlor, where a large body preparation table stood in the center of the room. They stopped when Undertaker placed a pot of tea down on it, along with the plate of biscuits.

Ciel looked down in disgust. "That...That is disg-"

"Have a seat, milord." Undertaker was already sitting and waiting expectantly. Sebastian pulled out a chair for him and he hesitantly sat down. Sebastian poured the tea as

Undertaker held out his hand to Ciel. Ciel looked down at it, then placed the ring inside of it.

Undertaker held it up and studied it. "I haven't been this close to it in about 20 years or so. I'm curious as to how you have it. Y/N never lets it come off her finger."

Ciel crossed his arms and leaned back. "She removed it herself. She left it in her corset and told Sebastian to retrieve it for our personal use."

Undertaker was staring at Ciel, then he stood up and turned to Sebastian. "Tell me, butler. How bad did it turn for Y/N to have to result for leaving this behind? I imagine quite terribly, considering this here ring...without it, she would be bound in chains and pulled by a leash that belongs to that...king."

Sebastian's lips formed into a frown as he looked Undertaker in the eye. "I do hope you aren't inquiring I wasn't able to keep Y/N from leaving with the Angel. That would be a major insult to my role here."

Undertaker rose up his hands in a slow dramatic way. "Oh, now why would I say that? I am only stating the facts here. Maybe you are just not telling us everything."

Undertaker's voice was getting louder now, and he slammed the ring on the table. "You were with her the entire time. When exactly did she remove this ring?"

Ciel, who was watching their banter with wide eye, looked at Sebastian and awaited his answer.

He looked to the side.

Flashback...

Your jaw clenched as you slid the ring off your finger and slipped it into your collar. You felt it fall beneath your shirt and into your corset. You turned your head to Sebastian, who was still glancing at you curiously, and you gave the smallest of smiles.

"Before she had removed it, she seemed to be having a conversation with someone and she looked almost...guilty and proud of it as well."

Undertaker sat back in his chair and pulled his hat over eyes. "That's not a surprise to me. She must've noticed you watching, so, what did she say?"

He looked up at Undertaker and as he spoke, was clear of any emotion for the words he was repeating to hide the true emotions he felt from them.

"She confessed something to me. She seemed convinced it would be the only time she could. Before I could question it further, Inspector Abberline had apprehended us."

Ciel went quiet once that was said, but he stood up and glared at Undertaker.

"This is a waste of time. If you won't tell us what you know, then you are of no use to me."

Undertaker only spun the ring on the table.

"Did she act unusually happy at all?"

Ciel's words stopped as Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "How could you have known that?"

He grinned and glanced up at them. "The same reason you came to me. I know her better than you do."

His fists tightened as Undertaker stood up. "And what I know is that you came to the wrong person."

He tossed the ring back to Ciel, who caught it. "What?"

"I don't know anything about that little piece of jewelry there. Come back when you want Abigail's origin story."

And with that, he laughed to himself and disappeared into the darkness of a separate back room.

Ciel looked after him. "Abigail?"

Sebastian looked down in thought. "As I recall, the Angel had called her that. Perhaps it was Y/N's human name. Her true birth name."

Ciel hummed and looked down at the ring. He stared for a few seconds and wasn't aware Sebastian had been holding his coat out to him.

Sebastian looked down at him. "Master?"

As Ciel stared, his eye widened and he shot up from his chair. Sebastian placed the coat on his shoulders and Ciel was practically running to the front door. Sebastian was hit on his trail as he flung the door open.

"I know who we need to see."

Sebastian opened the carriage door for him and he quickly stepped inside. Sebastian came in also and Ciel banged on the roof.

"Take me home, now!"

"Yes, sir." And with that, the horses were off and the carriage sped down the road.

Sebastian rose an eyebrow. "Eager to get home, aren't you?"

Ciel leaned forward and showed him the ring. "Look closely. Do you see anything familiar on it?"

Sebastian took the ring from his fingers and inspected it closely. For a good minute, he was turning it and looking in detail.

"The band of the ring has an engraving on it. A family crest as it seems."

Ciel nodded his head and looked at said crest. "Its The Phantomhive crest."

He rested his chin on his knuckles and looked out the window. "Sebastian, why would this ring hand crafted by a person of my family be on the finger of my maid and I would never know of its existence?"

Sebastian hummed and sat back. "Perhaps the person who made it wanted it to stay on her finger. It would be created to never exist in the first place."

Ciel tapped his fingers on his cane. "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it wasn't the person who made it, but rather the person who ordered it."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "The only person who could order it would be the head of the family."

He chuckled. "But at that time, the head was alive. And now, there is a new one. Besides Y/N, who has been there long enough to know everything about Funtom?"

Ciel kept staring out the window. "We need to get back to the manor."

. . .

Crying. Screaming. Begging.

That was what you woke up to. The sounds of someone crying, screaming, and begging for their life.

It made your stomach growl, but you didn't move from your spot. You were too weak to move. The amount of blood forced into you took a much bigger impact than you wanted it to and you didn't have anything to feed off of. This was what she wanted after all.

Weaken you. Starve you. Make sure you would devour anything she would give you. Most likely, that would be a human soul. And it looks like you were right.

A blood-curdling scream rang out, along with the smell of blood. It made your stomach growl to the point you felt the hunger clawing its way up inside of you.

She was smirking at you. She was enjoying every minute of it.

"You aren't holding back, are you?"

You couldn't even respond. Your eyelids were half closed and all you saw was her legs. The white dress that was covering them flickered and soon changed into white slacks. The legs walked closer to you and your chin was lifted up.

Ash was still smirking even after his sex change and leaned in closer to whisper while just barely grazing your lips.

"I hope not. I want you to go deep in. I wish I could be here to see it, but unfortunately the Queen's butler has his duties to attend to." He traced your lips with his finger. "But when I return, I can't wait to taste what you have inside of you. I can hardly wait, Kitty."

He stood and all you could make out were the sounds of his feet taping away and out of the cage.

"I want chicken, I want liver, Angela, Ash, please deliver."

Cranking sounded and the cage shook. A door was opened up and the begging became louder. "N-No, please! Let me go, please!"

The female voice came with the person as a young girl was thrown in. Your brows furrowed once you made out the nun outfit she was wearing. She was pushed fully inside and the door was slammed closed. She turned and banged on it.

"Please! The Lord will have mercy on you if you confess your sins and write over your wrong doings! Angels will weep for your horrible deeds until you make them right!"

Oh, there was so much irony in that single sentence it almost made you laugh.

She whipped around once she realized she wasn't alone. Her eyes widened while you wanted to roll yours.

You cannot be serious right now.

A big smile spread on her face. "I-It's you! You were part of that convent with the small boy, that red head fellow, and that...um...really handsome man, weren't you?"

Please, dear Satan, tell me I am just hallucinating or something.

"Y/N, right? Oh! Thank the Lord you are all right!"

As she was about to run over and pull you into a hug, your head snapped over to her once you could smell blood. There was a large scrap on her leg, along with a scratch on her forearm. Your stomach growled again.

You clenched your teeth. "If you value your life, I would advise not to come any closer."

She froze and awkwardly rubbed her arm. "O-Oh, okay."

You plopped your head on your knees. Damn. Damn. Damn! I wanted her life gone enough as it is because of her...little...massage. Now I have to resist the urge to kill her even more?! Damn!

You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the cage, but cracked your eyes open to stare directly at the blood seeping through her leg.

This is going to be more difficult than I thought.

. . .

Ciel ran into the kitchen with Sebastian behind him. The servants looked up from their card game.

Bard took out his cigar. "Hey look, they're back."

Finny smiled. "Master, you're home!"

Ciel was catching his breath as he held on to the doorway. "N...Never mind...that. Where is Tanaka?"

Mey-Rin pointed behind them. "Oh, I think he said he was going to leave something on your desk, master."

Without another word, Ciel sighed and ran back out of the room, down the hall to his study with Sebastian following behind. Ciel was close to dying as he collapsed on the wooden door and reached for the knob.

"My lord, look."

Ciel looked at Sebastian, who was looking towards the room down the hall. It was Tanaka. And he was walking into your room.

Ciel watched in confusion. "Come on."

Sebastian had reached the door first. Ciel nodded and he turned the knob. The door swung open to reveal Tanaka standing outside on the balcony. Without a word, he turned around and smiled.

"My lord, I see you've returned."

Ciel stepped in front of Sebastian. "Why are you in here?"

He rose his eyebrows. "Oh, some things I needed to take care of. It's nothing to concern you, my lord. It's something personal between Y/N and myself."

Ciel's eye widened. "Y/N?"

Tanaka walked back inside and shut the doors to the outside behind him. "Is there something you need, sir?"

Ciel stared at him for a moment, then reached into his pocket and walked closer to him. He held out the ring to Tanaka. "I want to know everything that you know about this ring."

By looking at it, Tanaka gave a warm smile and delicately took it from Ciel. "My, my. After all these years, its beauty certainly still shines." He glanced down at Ciel and sat himself on the bed. "I'm sure you know this ring is property to the owner of this room. It was also a gift by the original creator of this manor."

Ciel had moved to sit beside him. "You mean my father had given this to Y/N as a gift?"

He nodded while still smiling. "Yes. After she had aided him on his very first case for her majesty, it was a gift to her for all she was willing to do for him. But this here ring is special. It was specially crafted for her." He let out a laugh and nudged Ciel's arm. "Frankly, I think he was actually quite taken with her and this was a little something to express how he felt."

Ciel's, along with Sebastian's entire beings had froze up. Ciel rose up a finger that pointed at him. "W-What? Y-You believe that my father had....had feelings for..."

Tanaka laughed at their reactions. "Well I wouldn't be surprised. Just look at her. She does have a sort of power for wooing the males around her. Then again, I suppose that is due to her other species."

That last sentence had made the entire room go quiet. It made the mood in the air change from curious and light hearted to suspicious and serious. Sebastian was now frowning as he stared at Tanaka and Ciel was laughing.

"What do you mean by that?"

Tanaka only smiled again and looked at him. "Forgive my boldness sir, but I have always known of the deal between Y/N and the previous head of this family."

Ciel's laughter died as Tanaka stood up and his gaze shifted to Sebastian. "Along with the deal between Sebastian and you, my lord."

Ciel's smile had completely fallen as he stood up. "You shouldn't be smiling. You should know what comes next."

Tanaka only laughed at their seriousness. "Come now, I've been here for years. I will admit once Y/N had found out, she completely threatened me with my life if I ever told anyone."

Ciel narrowed his eyes. "And did you?"

His smile faltered. "No. Why an old chap like myself, who could I possibly tell?" He looked down at Ciel and bowed his head. "My lord, I have sworn to protect and serve the Phantomhive family ever since I was a child. Your father was a great man who kept me even when I wasn't needed. Who am I to judge or question the choices he made? Who am I to do the same to you? Your business is your own, but I do like to be notified the things that go on in this manor."

He looked back to Sebastian and walked over to him. "That is what makes a Phantomhive servant, is it not?"

After a few seconds, a smile had appeared on Sebastian's face. "I imagine you are right."

Tanaka held out the ring to him. "You need to hold onto this until Y/N returns to us. I think she told you to wield it for a reason, Sebastian. You should honor that, for her."

Ciel crossed his arms. "Y/N had told him this would aid us I defeating the enemy."

"When the time is right, it will."

Sebastian took it from his fingers and Tanaka gave another smile, before turning, bowing his head, and waling out of the room. "Now if you will excuse me, I think I'll go have a chat with our quality control for the newest shipping of Funtom candies."

Once he had left, Ciel let out a sigh. "Well that was definatly a surprise, I must say."

He glanced at Sebastian, then walked to the door. "See what you can do about that ring, I'm going to send a letter to her majesty about our progress. Come to my study if anything happens."

Sebastian bowed his head. "As you wish, my lord."

The door shut and Sebastian straightened up. He stared down at the ring for what seemed like forever, before he walked over to the side table next to the bed and placed the ring on the gloves that were neatly folded.

He took the moment to look around the room, considering it was the first time he had ever entered your room. "Interesting taste in style my kitten has."

After he had his fill in looking at the room, he walked to the door. Just as his hand had reached for the knob and it made the motion to turn it, a voice stopped him.

"She decorated it herself."

He hadn't turned around at the voice he had never heard before. The person it had belonged to placed his tea cup on its saucer and set it down on the table.

"I never gave her permission, but naturally, she didn't ask. But I must say, she does have a unique liking for things. She did have relations with you, after all."

Sebastian still didn't turn around. "You speak as if you know her quite well."

The man hummed and crossed his legs. "Yes, well I have been inside of her. Her head, her mind. I have actually had a glimpse at her soul. That's not something everyone can do. I don't have the luxury of bragging about it, but you'll do."

Sebastian let go of the handle. "How exactly did you do that?"

The man smirked. "All in good time. This whole game, you've been obeying and moving where he has told you to go. Sometimes the only moves you can make go against the orders you are given. Y/N has shown me that."

The man rested his cheek in the palm of his hand. "Face me as the man you portray as, Sebastian."

There was a long, awaiting silence. Sebastian's feet moved back and his body turned around. What Sebastian saw made his eyes partially widen.

"If you haven't figured it out, I am Y/N's true master."

He tapped his ring against the glass of champagne in his hand and smiled. "I am Vincent, previous Earl of Phantomhive."