#desert nights get really cold y’all

[hwathwugu]

Cold desert nights

[wesstars]

love, at second glance

tara carpenter x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: that’s what you do when you love somebody else… wc: 1k tags: all characters 18+; no ghostface au. angst, horribly excessive use of italics (seriously, everything in italics is either a quote, a thought, or actual emphasis. it’s terrible) a/n: what’s up y’all (title from 715 - CR∑∑KS by bon iver)

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Tara wondered when it all began.

You and me, me and you.

A mantra that used to be comforting, it now left her mouth dry, mind frantic. 

Sometimes, when it got real bad like it did today, she’d drive out to your—our—deserted garage, and look up into a pitch black night, blinking away tears. It was easy to scream at the sky: how could you forget about me about us about milkshakes shared about distances closed about how I love you and love you and love you—but to you, she’d say nothing.

She couldn’t say anything, while you basked in the glow of a new hand to hold. It was all over in a helpless shrug. That was it, and really, it wasn’t your fault. Nobody’s fault. You couldn’t help it, Tara reasoned, you weren’t cruel. Even at the very end, you were endlessly kind. Commitment was a choice, but love, love happened to you away from Tara and she couldn’t do anything but watch.

Tara switched the engine off, leaning back in her seat. The stars shone barely brighter than the city lights. It was strange, the way that when she was on the brink of losing everything, the world looked that much more beautiful. Every breath in that particularly cold winter felt like it was being swallowed up by the vastness of air itself, precious in its scarcity. 

“But I love you.”

You said nothing for a moment, a troubled little frown twisting on your lips. “Tara, I—”

“I love you.” She heard, rather than felt, herself repeating it. As if stopping you from speaking would make that cold reality any less crushing. “That’s all.”

It was odd, Tara decided, to go online and see your life in the pictures she used to be part of. She put her phone down. From tide pulls to seasons changing, there wasn’t exactly a world where she envisioned herself going on without you. There was something in that sinking feeling, like you were holding her down with a hand on her chest, when she saw you laughing with your friends, with anyone, a smile so brilliant it couldn’t possibly have Tara as the cause. 

You’d always wanted a little cabin in the woods (“not in a creepy way,” you’d insist) surrounded by mist, and it would always be raining. “You’re the only sunshine I need, Tara Carpenter.” She could still hear the way you’d tease her, lying on your side next to her, tracing the bridge of her nose with your fingertip. So easy it was, to tumble back into those shining memories where absolutely nothing would go wrong, you wouldn't let it, because she was yours.

The top floor of the lot was empty, and the moon spilled onto the windshield, into the empty passenger seat. She was lucky, you both were lucky, to have even come as close to the sun as the two of you did. Tara knew, deep inside herself, that if she just let it all go, she would be okay. The blood would rush back into her fingertips—you wouldn’t be there to massage the feeling back into them, the way you often did on winter nights like this—and then she would be okay.

Tara thought that she remembered too much for someone so hurt. Your hand on her thigh while you drove, wiping her lipstick off your cheek, the way you seemed so so so unhappy when you sat her down for one last time. You didn’t even look the same then, like you were somebody else, you weren’t hers anymore. It was getting colder in the car, but Tara didn’t feel anything but the searing coil of shame. 

Sunkissed March found you and Tara lying side by side on a picnic blanket, sodas losing their fizz as time forgot to move the two of you. A breeze ruffled the leaves, and if she really listened, Tara could hear the frogs in the nearby pond. You loved it here—you said it reminded you of hot summers spent in the countryside, the days as long as wildflowers. Not half an hour ago, you were braiding together the stems of daisies into a lush crown. 

“For you, Queen Carpenter,” you said in a posh accent. “A gift from your humble knight—each braid represents a ‘forever,’ and each flower is an ‘always.’” You set the crown atop Tara’s head, kissing the tip of her nose as she rolled her eyes.

“And what has compelled my knight to bring me such a gift?”

“Only all of the love I carry for you, your majesty.” You scooped her up in your arms, smiling as she giggled, rolling the two of you over to settle into the knolls of grass.

There was a certain bravery in the way your fingers wrapped loosely around hers, the way the heels of both your shoes made indents in the dirt—proclaiming, we were here. Even in her doze, Tara could feel you there, each moment stretching on like strings of eternity, unfailingly. 

The moment did end, as moments do. The crown, dried and shrunk, still hung from the rear view mirror in the car. The daisies themselves were long gone, but the dried stems had somehow stayed bound together. Tara’s head dropped into her hands, eyes sore and red. She’d thought so much and so often about where the two of you went wrong, she felt like she had turned over every stone in your path, ones that didn’t carry with them the weight of a goodbye. Tara would give anything to even know what it would take for you to stand in the sun with her one more time.

The abrupt knock on the window should’ve startled Tara more than it did, given that it was four in the morning in an empty parking lot, and she was supposed to be all alone. But all she could do was watch with wide eyes as the knock came from you, at your tight lipped smile. She rolled down the window, unable to feel anything but shock as she took in your mismatched shoes with untied laces, your shirt way too thin for the cold night. You weren’t looking at her, guilt evident in the hunch of your shoulders. Your voice comes out exactly as she remembered it. 

“Hey… can we talk?”

--

a/n cont'd: don't super feel like i like this but writing it came naturally so

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[st4rgzer]

STRAWBERRY WINE matt sturniolo

summary: I tried to make it about the song “strawberry wine” by Noah Kahan but it ended up just being fluff about strawberry wine

genre: fluff

cw!: alcohol

a/n: I surprisingly didn’t end up writing something super depressing! wow. Also can y’all tell I really like Noah Kahan, also this is very short cause it isn’t angst.

“so what are you drinking?” Matt said, putting his hand on my shoulder, l flinched as his cold fingers grazed the space under my ear.

“strawberry wine” I said throwing my head back to look at him, smiling as I shook the glass that contained a red, almost neon, liquid. He furrowed his brows in a repulsed gesture.

“strawberry wine? I didn’t know you liked wine?” He pulled out a chair and sat next to me, his arm resting around my shoulders as he grabbed the wine glass, glancing at me for permission, before sipping it, a surprised look dawning on him. I laughed at him before pouring another cup of the same wine.

“see? you gotta try new things, you like it no?” I said knowingly, grinning at him and handing him the glass. I laid my head on his chest as his arm remained hung over my shoulders, and sighed comfortably as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

Matt was always scared to try new things, get out of his comfort zone, but he always ended up doing so, he discovered the feeling of accomplishment after finally coming around to try something he’d never done before. He’d come to me for help if he was struggling with said thing, before getting his first tattoo, he spent about a two months with a fake tattoo to see if he liked the placement, asking me if it looked good, repeating it every day, and every day he’d get the same response.

“But are you sure it looks good? maybe anoth-“ I interrupted him, “Matt it looks perfect, don’t worry anymore and lay down with me” I sighed as he rolled his eyes. I opened my arms to him as a smile plastered onto his face, groaning in defeat and laying down his head on my chest as I ran my fingers soothingly through his scalp. He muttered something I couldn’t quite hear.

“What did you say?” I said as he looked up briefly “I said thank you, and I love you” He spoke before nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, I giggled as his rough stubble tickled my skin. I sighed and looked to the ceiling, placing kisses on the top of his head once in a while, content with the silence, not needing much more. A bottle of strawberry wine adorned my night stand, I glanced at it and smiled, remembering Matt’s discovery of it.

His arms hung lazily around my body as I had a bottle of strawberry wine hugged between my arms, our bodies splayed on a cotton blanket. I put aside the drink after taking a sip, leaving it on the dirt of the deserted road beside us, turning my body around and letting my head fall onto his chest, melting into his embrace, his chin pressed on the top of my head. I listened to his heartbeat, the same heartbeat that I fell in love with from the start, the one that created the recurrent melody I hear in my dreams. My eyelids grew heavy and the beats echoed in my mind as I started to drift off. Matt kissed my shoulder gently, and repeated the almost daily mantra.

“Goodnight, my love”

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the way he made life a little more bearable, a little more beautiful, but it was definitely love.

a/n: please im pushing myself to write fluff so help is appreciated 🙏 (i’m very sensible so be careful)

taglist: @dwntwn-strnlo @oneirophobic @iha8you @lovelysturniolo @gabbylovesreading @gaytoadwithapopsicle @stvrni0lo @ssturniolo @strniolo @ifilwtmfc @sturniolol

The follower count is growing so please tell me if you wanna be added!

[written-with-blue-ink]

hi, would you happen to have general romantic headcanons for kaveh x alhaitham x reader? if you're not into throuples then just kaveh x reader!

Hey! Thank you so much for being my first asker! I actually love polyships and my favorite genshin ship is a poly ship so I don’t mind writing them at all. I also wrote some 18+ headcanons but didn't add them here bc they didn't fit the ask of "general romantic". If you would like them, feel free to send another ask :)

They will stay awake with you when you have to stay up all night on a project, helping you with reading, citations, or just doing their own work with you

Study dates, all the time. Kaveh brings little desserts for you guys during these and if either of you need books, Alhaitham will get up and get them for you before you even have the chance to move your chair

Alhaitham won’t say he made dinner for y’all, but he will tell you he has leftovers if you want them

Kaveh though makes enough food for an army, he shares his love this way and wants you two to know that. 

Kaveh makes the best cup of chai. He makes it for you and Alhaitham every morning with a kiss on the cheek

He also doodles on random papers, doesn't matter what. Alhaitham sometimes collects them and has a little scrapbook of random doodles you or Kaveh have drawn.

When festivals are in town, Kaveh wants the prizes from festival games (like plushies) and Alhaithem wins them effortlessly (with his big brain math skills)

Alhaitham is super overprotective. He will pull you close to his chest when he sees anyone talking to either of you.

After long nights of work, you and Kaveh rest on Alhaithem’s chest while he reads some kind of book aloud.

Kaveh runs hot, Alhaitham runs cold, being between the two of them is a weird yet relaxing combination

Kaveh is constantly touching one of yall, hugs, kisses, hand holding you name it while Alhaitham is quiet, more private, and patient and would rather do it in the comfort of anonymity (though everyone knows yall are dating)

Alhaitham buys you and Kaveh books he thinks you guys would like, just leaving them on your desk the next morning

I just see the three of you guys going on research trips in the desert whenever one of you guys needs information on an upcoming project or test. It is a mini vacation for yall and it’s really nice. 

[lavendarniko]

Vash the Stampede x Short! Reader

A/N: Sorry y’all for the extra long hiatus. I hit a creative block, a lot had happened in my life, and I seem to shut down in the winter- like my brain is hibernating. So to get myself back in I decided to add more to this little ficlet I sent to @anyasathenaeum (an amazing author c: ) Also requests are open (please I’m running out of ideas)

You shiver in the cold of the desert night, your coat having been shot to shreds in one of Vash’s rare moments of having a plan. You hug yourself as you walk beside Vash. Look at him in his warm coat and pleasant smile. You huff a little, kicking at the sand as you shiver once again. Once more you glare at Vash, look at him so warm and comfy in his coat. He could have totally used his coat, but no it just had to be yours. You find yourself crossing your arms to protect yourself from the chilly night.

“Do… you want my coat?”, Vash smirks, the amusement so clear in his voice.

Hmph! You turn your nose up at the man being impossibly bratty. You start to take a step ahead of him, only for you to be enveloped in red and warmth. You find yourself instinctively putting it on. It engulfs you completely, the red jacket sleeves ending well past your fingertips and pools around your feet. You look up at Vash for the first time that day since he got your jacket shot to rags.

“(Y/N)”, he laughs, “I- I think it’s too big for you”

“You think so?”, you deadpan back, having to roll up the sleeve. “You fucking mammoth”

“Are you gonna need any help?”

“No.” You huff as you start walking, only for you to immediately trip over the front of the coat. Vash grabs the back, accidentally choking you in the process.

Vash flashes an amused smile, “I think for the safety of my jacket, I should pick you up”

“Wait a minute!” You start, only for Vash to pick you up anyways, sitting you on his shoulders.

“There you go! All safe and warm”, he grins.

You give an annoyed groan, burying your face in his hair. “It’s not my fault you’re a giant! Who put you in the stretch machine, Laffy Taffy man?”

He just laughs back, patting your leg as he continues to carry you. You can’t really be mad or argue with him. He’s right, you are warm now, and you are safe with him at the moment. You bury your face in his coat, it smells floral and spicy like roses and cloves. You close your eyes, relaxing into the sway of his steps, the warmth of his jacket, sounds of the night. You start to doze off and before falling asleep, you just hear him chuckle.

[caterpillarinacave]

I love Charlotte and Henry and they're super underrated. And I would VERY MUCH like to hear the headcanons whirring about in your brain.

Oh well buckle up cause literally all I think about is head cannons. Like, you know how cells replace themselves every few years? Mine have replaced themselves with head cannons. *Sorry it took me a hot moment to answer this ask, I was busy howling into my pillow whenever I tried to articulate thoughts.*

First of all, they’re very cuddly. They basically sleep on top of each other (Charlotte hasn’t needed a pillow in decades). Henry cant sleep well without Charlotte in his arms and Charlotte can’t sleep well anywhere other than Henry’s arms so it works out. Plus, they both do that thing where they jerk awake like the world is ending and scare the shit out of each other, so sleeping in a hug that basically pins them both down saves some energy at 2am. Henry’s perpetually cold and sleeps under like, four blankets, so Charlotte just wears summer nightgowns all year and wraps herself around Henry like a koala.

Naturally there’s an angsty side to the incessant cuddling because that’s just the way I role.

Charlotte sleeps with her head on Henry’s chest so she can always feel him breathing because, by the angel, she remembers when he wasn’t. She sleeps with a hand on his pulse point because she wakes up in the middle of the night and she’s still half asleep they might as well be on the floor in that mountain and she might as well still be desperately swearing she didn’t imagine his heartbeat.

While on the topic of soul crushing feelings of guilt, y’all remember from Clockwork Angel that Henry was the one who told Mortmain what a Pyxis was? And he wanted Charlotte to tell the clave that and she wouldn’t because “they already treat him so badly”? Because I do. And so does Henry.

(I’ve got a whole WIP that I love very dearly about this head cannon and this chess game hehe) There’s one random old tutor who goes to the London institute once a month-ish, basically to hand out a few weeks of homework to any shadow hunters who don’t have their own tutors. Most shadow hunters who live in a more rural area show up a few times a year so the clave knows they’re alive and at least somewhat literate. Charlotte attends them every month since, you know, she lives there, but Henry lives somewhere around Yorkshire so he shows up every few months. The professor is kind of a dick ngl. He doesn’t help Charlotte with any school why would a woman need to be so well educated? “Go on find a husband and stop worrying you’re pretty little head” sort of shit. Henry drives him insane because he’s a) some random kid who’s smarter than him and b) didn’t use any of the professors materials to get that smart. Professor Douche is constantly trying to get him to be wrong about something, or at least flustered about something and he doesnt ever do either of those things, and even more aggravating he refuses to get upset. (He honestly just assumed the professor wasn’t that smart.)

Charlotte’s a really good student of course, but she’s having a shit time with some mathematics and the professor absolutely refuses to help her with it. Eventually she asks Henry if he wouldn’t mind helping her with it, which he’s happy to do (once he figures out that’s what shes actually asking lol.)

Charlotte is incredibly distracted the entire time by Henry’s freckles (and eyes. And hands. And the way his hair curls on the nape of his neck. And the spots of gold and green in his hazel eyes that flashed as bright as the sun when the light catches them. And-), but they get through it in an hour or two which leaves them alone in a deserted wing of the institute. They end up playing a game chess. Charlottes a decent player and thought since Henry had never showed any interest in chess it would be a probably be an evenly matched game. She didn’t know what hit her. He beat her in like, eight minutes, eighty percent of which were spent on the last two moves by Charlotte who, upon realizing she was fucked, spent five minutes staring at the board trying to figure out when he even started beating her. She was sitting there having a whole crisis, (she’d been distracted by a man who probably doesn’t like her, and certainly doesn’t think much of her now after a pathetic loss like that and now she’ll have to sit hear and wallow in failure-) just preparing for him to start that whole smug gloating thing men do when they win and Henry you know. Didn’t. He just put the pieces away and thanked her for the game, in that very genuine way, with the gloomy London evening light casting a depressing shadow across the room, a shadow that he stood out against all gentle, kind, bright and brimming with a sort of barely contained passion. If Charlotte had ever doubted that shadow hunters had come from straight angels then sitting there, looking at a boy stained in soot, who she loved more than anything else to walk the earth, she would never doubt it again.

(It wasn’t until after Henry won and noticed Charlotte hadn’t said anything in a while that he remember people don’t like losing. Honestly he was playing just to be around her and he would have thrown the game if he could conceptualize how to do that on the fly. They spent like five minutes in autistic silence waiting for the other to stand up and declare newfound hatred.)

In true British fashion the a modern tea bag would kill them both.

When they were both 13 or 14 Charlotte mentioned she was dreading winter because it’s so bleak and dark (and her mom had died a few winters before, though she didn’t drop that in casual conversation). Anyways, come winter Henry brought her a marigold preserved in something like resin. She kept it in her jewelry box for years and after they got married she found out he had literally dozens of them. Whenever he came across a particularly bright flower he preserved it and set it aside. He was never quite brave enough to give them to her pre-TID, but he now leaves them for her when she’s particularly sad or stressed. She keeps them all in a drawer- they fit together like little tiles, and still look as fresh as they would had they just been plucked from the ground.

Somewhat surprisingly Henry doesn’t really lose stuff, with the singular exception being his own medical equipment. He’s lost the leg braces he wears every single day of his life before. Charlotte’s not usually speechless but she wasn’t sure what to say to that one.

Henry gave Charlotte a watch with a hands and numbers that can glow the same way a modern day one would. It’s absolutely beautiful, durable and accurate, even if Henry set himself on fire at least four times making it. (They can say with confidence that that watch is fireproof)

—-

Honestly, I could go on and on, then on some more, but technically I’m supposed to be writing a paper on gut micro biomes that’s due tomorrow, so I figured I’d cut myself of. In conclusion, I love them dearly, they love each-other dearly, they deserve the world, all I can think about is them, and the world can pry them out of my cold dead hands.

[avatar0ftheeye]

Tw for described violence, abuse

Wow

y’all really liked my silly little campaign

My players and I geeked out over y’all last night we were so exited that people LIKED our story!

so without further ado, here’s part 2 of Dungeons and Teenagers!

the players begin their walk toward the town of Phandalin. 4 human teenagers, a Half-goblin, and a goose. As they walk, the kids try and press Jim for questions. He is VERY secretive, only giving vague answers.

once they reach the town it isn’t as deserted as they thought. Mostly humanoid looking animal people, all walking around doing their daily tasks.

Jim, getting straight to the point, says they should get some weapons. The players are suspicious of Jim, what is this lanky teenager doing acting like he’s the boss of them? However, they fail their insight checks so they won’t know for another like 4 sessions.

They find a closed down weapons shop, several weapons and armor line the walls of it. the party suggests they rob it, and Jim doesn’t refute

They lock pick the door and have 5 minutes to gather anything they need.

Maisie, with an unnatural 20, find 16 god damned daggers underneath the table. 10 are rusted, only one good use, 3 are new, and 3 are slightly used. Good enough, it’s 16 GOD DAMNED DAGGERS

Damien, being the rouge he is, just grabs anything and everything he can find. Beautiful bows, cases of arrows, swords, daggers, etc. life is great when the DM uses minecraft inventory mechanics

Goose goes straight for a giant ax. That’s it. The biggest ass ax he could find that is about 5x his size. Jim is fearful for his life.

Thomas just wanders around the shop, gawking at everything. He’s was a sheltered kid, doesn’t even have a phone. The most he was allowed out was going to school, so the sight of all this weaponry was a shock to him.

Alex began eyeing the armor. Large pieces of leather, iron, chain mail, and a material he can’t quite place. Though he knows nothing of magic in this world, the armor is glowing a bright neon blue and, when he got closer, emitted ice cold air.

he reached out to touch the armor, enamored by it. Yet once his hand reached the glowing chest plate, it disappeared. A sharp, ice cold pain shot through his arm and through his entire body. His blood felt like it was freezing, yet all at once, it stopped

“oi, Morekai!” The players hear from outside, “Theres some people in yer shop! Call the guards or ey dunno, get em!”

They’ve been spotted through the window! They really need new dice! They keep failing their stealth checks! Seriously guys! Please get new dice! (/directed)

They begin to scramble out the door, Goose and Damien dropping everything they had on the way out

Thomas, in his panicked state, trips over his own two feet and face plants into the floor. The glass shards from the window dug deeper into his skin and he let out a small whimper of pain, just as the door opens

in the doorway stands a tall, humanoid blue jay. He had thin stick like legs, blue feathers, and the face of a man who works in retail

he begins to comfort Thomas, offering to take him downstairs and remove the shards from his skin. Thomas, failing yet another insight check, agrees and follows him down

outside the shop, the players catch their breath. After a quick headcount, they realize they’ve lost Thomas. They must go back inside to get him, much to the dismay of damien.

You can’t blame Damien though. born to a neglectful father and a mother who would die a week into his life, he doesn’t understand why these people care about others. Damien has long scars across his face, old and faded with time. These scars were caused by his father, an abusive man who cared about nothing other than himself and who he was sleeping with that day. Damien was raised as a solider, who knows how long it would take to undo that damage.

back inside the shop, Thomas and morekai descend the stairs to the basement

“so,” started morekai, “what’s your diet like?”

“????? Excuse me????” Asked Thomas, “who???? Asks that??,, kind of question??,, what’s your diet like then man?”

“Fish and gum! It’s not an unusual question, It’s just small talk, jesus!” Replied Morekai, annoyed and seemingly offended

“fine, I guess normal???”

“would you consider your self poisonous?”

The party breaks back into the building and rushes into the stairwell to the basement. It is long and winding, seemingly going on forever. They descend slowly, trying to not be spotted by Morekai (they finally succeeded their rolls!).

as they reach the bottom, a low, hungry growl is heard. A kind of hungry growl that you only hear from a stomach that hasn’t eaten in days. A growl of pure feral hunger.

Morekai grips the back of Thomas’ shirt “you seriously thought I would be HELPING you?? After you broke into my shop and stole who knows what?” Morekai mocked, “seriously man, get less gullible”

morekai shoved Thomas into the room, and that’s when Goose took his strike

Goose leapt off the top of the staircase and began freefalling downwards. Unbeknownst to him, Maisie had tripped and fallen at the same time, taking Jim and Damien with it. now, 70% of the party was freefalling down yo the bottom of a cavern. Alex, being the only sensible one, just kept running down the stairs.

Jim reached into his bag and grabbed a pair of boots. He slipped them on and began to fall slower, leaving Damien and Maisie to continue freefalling. Realizing this, he turned upside down and began falling FASTER

Damien reached out to him and latched onto his arm, but due to the way physics work idk they begin to spin in the air, faster and faster until they’re just a circular blur

goose flies over to Maisie. Maisie reaches up and grabs his legs as they begin to slowly descend to the ground. Maisie and Goose Are fine

Damien and Jim, on the other hand, are violently still freefalling toward the floor. With a final roll of dexterity, Jim grabs onto Damien and flips him on top of him. When they crash to the ground, Jim took most of the damage instead of Damien, leaving a cartoonish hole in the floor

A surprised morekai screamed at them. Goose saw this as a challenge and, after a quick argument and a Google search, started biting his legs with his teeth that he apparently has. He gnaws and gnaws on his leg until the thin ass stick snaps in half

morekai falls to the ground, bleeding profusely. Maisie takes the opportunity as well, and begins stabbing at morekai with the stolen daggers

Thomas, witnessing his friends murdering his captor, beings to cry. He just kinda does that

the sound of his cries alerts something

something big

something hungry

out from the shadows emerges an enormous raccoon named Rigabus

he glared down at the party and begins his slow, predatorial walk towards them

the party must think fast

Jim, being the idiot he is, grabs Damien from on top of him, sits up

and throws him over Rigabus

With a strength check from Jim and a nat 20 performance check from Damien

Damien backflips over rigabus, Doing a triple twirl in the air, and spiderman poses onto the ground, causing Rigabus to be so enamored better just stares at damien

the rest of the party takes their chance and begins to sprint up the stairs. They make it about a 1/3 of the way before they realize

oh yeah

Damien’s down there

Damien screams at them as he begins to run, breaking the trance with rigabus

Now, picture this dear readers

a goose, a 6’0 goblin, 4 teenagers, and a giant raccoon I plagiarized from Regular Show, all running up a giant staircase to freedom

I couldn’t believe it either, and I was there

the players run as fast as they can. Jim manages to grab Damien like a cat and begins to run faster

With a final jump, the players make it through the door, trapping Rigabus in the doorway. They sprint out of the shop into the street, running and running as fast as they can

finally, once they stop, they realize they had run to the edge of town, and are standing in front of a giant coliseum

inside, as seen through the glass ceiling, a woman stands trapped inside a cage. She is tall, beautiful,

and Calluna Grace, Maisies Mother

[l3m0ncyan]

New at Life | Chapter 8

Steven Grant/Marc Spector x latina!teen!reader

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Note: I hope yall can read Spanish lol

Warning: Angst, grief, death (gasp)

———————————————

The drive to the desert was quiet aside from the music playing that was low. Since they were in Egypt, most of the music that was being played was in Arabic. Layla and Marc were able to understand what each song was saying but Y/N was in the dark. However the beat to them were catchy and she would find herself bop her head.

Looking outside the window, Y/N saw how the buildings were the only things that lit up the night. As they kept driving though, she could see that less and less buildings were appearing. Meaning that they were headed the right way to get to the desert.

She looked over to Layla and Marc who were talking to each other. Marc was looking at his jacket which had holes, “This was my favorite jacket too”. Saddened he threw it to the back and then took off his shirt which was also ruined. Discarding the shirt to the back too, he reached over to a duffel bag that was next to Y/N.

Y/N stared at him envious, he was able to change out of his sweaty clothes while she had to stick with hers.

“Lucky” she looked at him unimpressed.

He looked at her and smiled cockily, “You should have brought your own clothes”

“I didn’t know we’d be staying overnight at the desert”

“Technically, we have been staying overnight at the desert. You know, Egypt is all-“

“You know what, I’m glad your favorite jacket got ruined”

Marc gave a small laugh and looked back to the road, “If you want, you can borrow some of my clothes, they should fit”.

Y/N looked at the duffel bag and then back to Marc. With out much thought, she grabbed the bag.

She looked through it and found a military green tshirt plus a brown jacket. Since it was getting a bit cold, she decided to take it.

“Alright y’all don’t look!” She yelled out causing Marc to close his eyes and place an arm on top of his eyes.

Taking her chance, she took off her top and tossed it to the trunk. She pulled the shirt over head and pulled it down. She noticed how it was a bit/quite oversized, but she liked it since she was now comfortable. The jacket she put on and it was actually warm.

After wearing it she noticed that the shirt was a bit itchy and rough. “Yo Marc, do you wash your clothes?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Cause it doesn’t feel like it. Do you even use softener?”

“Alright if your gonna be judging, how about you put back on your sweaty shirt?”

“Just kidding. It’s nice. Yup” she quickly said and smiled to convince him.

Layla gave a small laugh, “He doesn’t, I used to fold his clothes and they were hard as rock”. Marc looked at her offendedly.

“It’s true” she laughed.

Y/N saw how the two looked into each other’s eyes and noticed how much love they held for the other. She smiled but then remembered about how Marc was staying away from Layla for a while. Then wondered why did the two even decide to marry. Actually how did Layla fall for him?

“Uhm, so like, I might be getting a little to personal but like…how did you two meet?”

The two paused, looking at each other. Marc looked at her and then down, disappointed not at her but at himself. Layla looked at him with a sympathetic smile and squeezed his hand. Y/N noticed that Marc didn’t pull away. At first she thought that she might have have made things awkward but she might have actually made things better.

“We met at a bar” Layla said after a long pause.

Y/N fixed her posture and listened closely.

“I was working on archeological business which shall not be named” she smiled at the rear mirror, “when suddenly I get a drink, told that a man bought it for me”

“I look across from the room and I see this awkward and mysterious man staring back,”

“Awkward?” Marc smiles.

“Yes awkward, you looked like a boy from grade school who was waiting for his crush to read his handwritten letter”

Y/N laughs, “Wait really?”

“Yup, but he gets the courage and walks over to me. Tells me about how I caught his eye, can you believe it? Out of all the women there”

“How couldn’t I?” Marc looks at Laylas hand, hesitating but yet still holding it, “You’re the most interesting and smart woman I’ve met”.

Layla smiles and squeezes Marc’s hand in return.

“After that, we talked more, went on a few dates and got together. A couple of years after, he asks to marry me”

Y/N looks at them and smiles with delight on their love story. Especially since she didn’t know Marc was a romantic. She then notices that Layla frowns and slowly lets go of Marc.

“But a few years after we marry, he leaves without a trace, without letting me know” Marc looks at her apologetically. “Layla, I’m sorry-“

“Let’s just stay focused on the mission”

Layla focuses on the road and ignores Marc’s eyes that are filled with pity and guilt. The trip becomes quiet and awkward. Y/N looks at both of them but before she can say anything her phone goes off.

Scrambling to get her phone from her pocket, she looks at the caller ID. ‘Madre’ it reads, she looks at Layla and Marc apologetically, “Hey sorry, uh I gotta take it, it’s my mom”

The two nod and look to the road as a gesture of privacy.

Y/N breathes in and looks at the green button. Why was her mother calling at this time? Gathering enough courage, she answers and raises the phone to her ear.

“Bueno?”

“Honde estás?” Her mother answers with a stern voice. Y/N feels like her heart skipped a beat but continues to try to keep the facade.

“En Londres? Donde mas?”

“Crees que soy pendeja?”

Y/N feel her breathe stop. Her mother was angry and even thought she was very far away from her, she felt like she would come through the phone and slap her.

“N-No”

Marc and Layla notice the sudden change in Y/N but continue to listen.

“Di porque tu prima me mando un video donde estas en Egipto, peleando con un grupo de señores con…poderes”

Y/N stays quiet, “Cual video?”

“Ay! Eres mensa o que?!” Jumping at her mothers raised voice, she sees that she is sent a link to a video. Following it, she is shown from shaky camera work from earlier where they went to Mogart and fought the many groups of bodyguards. In the video, it showed how Y/N uses her powers to beat them and knock them unconscious. Without context, it probably looks like Y/N has been hanging out with the wrong group.

The thing that she wondered was who recorded it and how did it get big so fast?

“Lo viste?!”

Forgetting that she was still on a call with her mother, scrambled to put her phone back to her ear.

“Si, si….” Y/N repeated not in an annoyed way but in a scared one.

“Explícame esto!”

Y/N tried to think of an excuse but how would one explain to their mother that she got powers and is now trying to save the world from an evil cult. The easiest one would be to say she was now part of the mafia.

“Es que…no me vas a creer” she rubbed the back of her neck. In the corner of her eye she saw Marc staring at her and gesturing to her if she was alright. She gave a quick smile and nodded. However Marc didn’t really believe that.

It was quiet on the other line and Y/N felt the air become more dense. Suddenly she heard quiet sobs and sniffles. Hearing her mom cry her hurt her heart, “Mami, por favor no llores”

“No me digas que no llore! Yo pensé que ibas a ser diferente que tus hermanas pero al mejor eres peor!”

“…Que estás queriendo decir?”

“Nos fallaste y incluso trajiste vergüenza a nuestra familia. Todos tus tíos nos están tomando por tontos! Teníamos muchas esperanzas para ti!”

Y/N felt her heart and all blood cells stop simultaneously. She feels her throat tighten, “No- no quieres decir eso…”.

“Me has decepcionado mucho a mí y a tu padre. Cómo pudiste hacerlo después de todo lo que hemos hecho? Quiero que vuelvas a casa a este momento”

The call ends and Y/N is just met with the beeping of the phone. She just stares straight down, still in shock.

All of her hard work and nights of studying, gone down the drain. All of her energy trying to make her parents the least bit happy went to waste.

Y/N felt tears trying to escape, even though she tried her hardest in keeping them in, a few fell. Her lips quiver, she feels so weak with crying in the backseat of a car.

“…You alright?” Marc turns his head slightly to her. She immediately wipes her eyes with the sleeve of the jacket she put on, “Y-yeah I’m fine”.

Layla looks at her with a frown through the rear view mirror. Being a traveling archeologist, she learned a few languages, Spanish being one. So from the recent conversation that the teen just had, she had an idea of what it was about. Layla stared at the road ahead trying to think of how to make Y/N feel more cheerful. She looked down to the radio and then to the reflection of Y/N.

“Is there any music you like?” Y/N looked confused at the question.

“Uhh, not really, well I'm fine with anything, " she said quietly.

Lyla nodded and turned the small wheel for the radio, trying to find a good station. A mix of sound came from the speakers; static, milliseconds of songs that were playing, and ads.

"Oh, I remember this song!" Layla stopped at one station.

She looked at the rearview mirror to check on Y/N, her eyes were tinted red but she seemed calmer. She was looking at the radio and got closer to the front of the truck. Using the front seats as an aide, she pulled herself in between Layla and Marc.

"Wait, I know this song too, my sisters would play it all the time back then" she gave a small smile.

Layla turned the volume up causing the speakers to blare I Want It That Way by The Backstreet Boys. Y/N bumped her head to the beat while Marc just stared off into the distance. Layla however started to sing and soon after so did Y/N.

Layla sung with emotion and Y/N acted as if she was in a music video.

“But we are two worlds apart,” Layla put a hand on her chest, dramatically.

“Cant reach to your heart” Y/N closed her eyes and put hands close to her chest, gesturing her heart.

The two then bursted into the main verse, singing their hearts out. Taking turns in who would say “Tell me why” while the other song the other line.

Marc just chuckled and shook his head. Y/N elbowed him.

“Come on join us!” She looked up to him.

“Rather not”

“Please!”

“I don’t even know the song”

Layla then jumped into the side conversation, “Oh of course you do! You sung it to me when you were tipsy”

Marc stared at her and back to Y/N, sighing he gave in.

“Am I your fire?” He said quietly.

Layla and Y/N beamed, soon enough the three were now singing. Marc was still awkward but through half of the verse, he started to actually sing just like when he was tipsy. One would sing while the other two became background vocals. This cycle would switch around until the trio decided to just sing it together.

The song came to a close, with the three singing the last few words from the top of their lungs.

“I never wanna hear you say! I want it that way!”

As cheesy as it sounds, they had a small laugh after with realizing how they had their own little concert. Specifically in a stolen truck in the middle of the Egyptian desert.

“Jeez, didn’t know you could sing my guy” Y/N shouldered Marc.

“Don’t push it,” he rolled his eyes.

More music continued to play; some Layla and Y/N would sing, Marc would join in a bit, then there was just head bopping.

It was a good change of pace for the three, especially after going through a whole battle. Y/N though was still hurt by what her mother had told her but with the karaoke she felt happier. Probably so happy she was able to fall asleep on the seats. The symphony was now lowered for her with just the soft sounds of the engine.

Layla and Marc made small conversations but in a whisper, careful in not trying to wake up the teen. Marc would then grab a spare jacket that he had inside his bag and lay it over Y/N’s snoring body. He smiled softly but would catch Laylas smirk from the corner of the eye. Then he’d clear his throat and stare straight into road.

“I don’t want her to get a fever” he’d say, avoiding Laylas gaze.

“Marc, we’re in the desert”

“And the desert gets cold”

Marc wouldn’t say it outloud but Layla was right. Y/N had became another person that he cared about. He used to think that she was going to stay away from them the moment she found out about the DID and being an avatar. Surprisingly she didn’t, she wanted to help them. Even with how she almost died from the jackal and from Mogarts guards, she stuck by him. He was grateful, yet he was terrified. They were now at enemies territory, and she was there.

It was like a flashback hit him when he thought this. The cave. The rain. The water. Water coming in. It was rising. And he couldn’t stop it.

What if he can’t stop it for Y/N.

He breathed in and closed his eyes, trying to forget it. He wouldn’t let it happen. Opening his eyes back up, he continued to look towards the sand dunes that we’re coming into view.

——

A couple of hours in, Layla began to yawn but continued to hold onto the wheel. They were now in the desert and were following only the road that was placed.

“I can drive if you want” Marc offered.

Layla shook her head, “No I can still do it,”

“You need to get some sleep in” Marc stared at her.

The two heard shuffling in the back. Marc looked back and saw Y/N squirming and then sitting up. Her eyes were still watery from the slumber and there were marks on her face from the bag she used as a pillow.

“Marc’s right, you should sleep. You don’t know what we might find at the uh…” Y/N tried to think but heard Marc whisper tomb.

“The tomb!” She snapped her fingers.

“Alright” Layla smiled and sighed, pulling over to the side.

She got out and so did Marc. He walked over to the drivers seat and before Layla could get to the passenger side, Y/N won her.

“You don’t want the back seat?” Layla asked her with a smile.

“Nah, plus I feel like you might sleep better there”

Layla nodded and went to the back and laid down. Soon she was deep asleep. Marc continued to drive and Y/N stared out to the sand that flew by.

Marc gripped the wheel trying to think of what to talk about. Thinking about what the two had gone through in the past few days, all the small bits of goodness were drowned out by the fighting. This time it wasn’t just him doing it, he had Y/N helping him. That’s when it clicked.

“How did you get those powers?” Marc looked straight ahead.

Y/N lifted her head from the window and looked to the road and then to Marc.

“Uh, it was a day after Steven, or well you guys, went missing” she hesitated, “I was coming back from buying groceries and I see this guy stumbling into an alley. So I go and check on him”

Marc looks over to her with a half-lidded eyes, telling her that what she is about to do is highly stupid.

“I know! I know! It’s dumb of me but I didn’t want this to be in the back of my mind” she raises her hands up.

Marc sighs and nods, cue to continue.

“I get closer and he is like yelling how it hurts and to stay away from him. I tell him I can call an ambulance or something but he says no. Soon after, I freak out and start backing away and the last thing he does is apologize. I swear I see his stomach glow red and then a blast of light throws me across the floor”

Y/N rubs her arm as she continues to remember back to that day.

“My ears are ringing as I open my eyes and I see that he’s gone. But the most obvious thing to me is the warm and cold feeling going through my body,” she hugs herself, “So I practically run back to the apartment and just go to sleep. Skip through you and Steven coming back and the jackal at the museum, to me I guess waking up my powers at Harrows den”

She looks over to Marc who’s wearing a shameful look.

“I’m sorry” he mumbles quietly, “If I were there you wouldn’t have to deal with them”

“Nah it’s fine. Oddly I don’t regret it, I feel badass with them” she leans back into her seat, “Plus I can be like a sidekick for you”

“A sidekick?” Marc raises a brow and Y/N nods her head rapidly. “Guess i got a lame one then” he says jokingly.

Y/N smacks him on his shoulder, “Hey! I’m serious! Imagine us, Bird Man and the Spider! Wait no we already have a hero with Spider in the name”

“Bird Man?” Marc gave a small laugh

“Well yeah, for Khonshu”

“You know Khonshu is a god for the moon and not birds right?”

Y/N widened her eyes, “Oh! Then you can be Moon Boy! No that’s not right…”

She placed a finger on her chin, trying to think up names. Marc would just listen as she spilled multiple at a time. He then saw the way the match ignited in her head.

“Moon Knight!”

Marc shook his head and smiled, “Sure, but I ain’t no hero”

“I mean you have the suit, the powers, and the mysterious background” she crossed her arms, “Anyways what’s mine?”

“Your nickname?”

“Yeah, I helped you with yours”

Marc breathed in and thought for a second, “Didn’t Khonshu call you Maggot? That’s the one”

Y/Ns face crinkled in disgust, “That’s gross!”

He laughed and looked to the night sky and to the road ahead. He thought of her powers and what they were. They looked like insect legs and the glowed red. So how to make a name for that?

“Why not add Crimson to the name?”

Y/N looked everywhere for where the voice came from. Finding Steven on the rear view mirror, she smiled.

“Yo! I can see you!” She pointed at him which he smiled at.

“I can tell. I heard you two talking about hero names and I had to join”

“We are not heroes” Marc intervened but went ignored.

“Oh! You should be Mr.Knight! You got that suit so it would make sense right?”

“Yes! It sounds sharp!”

The two continued to talk about hero names and ideas for Y/N.

“How about Crimson Spur?”

Y/N looked at Steven confused, “Spur?”

“Yeah, that’s what those little spiky things are called on insect legs”

“Why do you and Marc want to name me based of bugs?”

Steven looked at Marc confused this time.

“I said Maggot and she freaked out” Marc says nonchalant.

Steven rolled his eyes and pondered more. They would say what the powers would remind them of. Marc would continue to say spider or any kind of bug with long spiky legs. Steven would go ahead and say some scientific name which led to him having to explain what it meant.

They then stuck to the idea of squid or octopus but Y/N was not into it.

“That sounds lame”

“What’s wrong with Crimson Tentacle?”

“Steven it sounds like the title of a porn video, also squids are kinda just eh”

“How about Kraken?” Marc jumped in.

Steven and Y/N thought on it and nodded their heads.

“Guess Crimson Kraken will do, for now” Y/N turned to Layla who was sitting up.

“I see I missed your guys hero name choosing?” She stretched.

Y/N nodded, “Yup, Marc is Moon Knight, Steven is Mr.Knight, and I am the Crimson Kraken”

Layla nodded and moved closer to the front, looking straight ahead to the road. Well at this point there was no road, it was just sand.

“We can maybe stop here, I don’t think they’d follow us this far in” she placed a hand on Marc’s shoulder.

Marc nodded and parked the truck. The three got out and we’re met with the soft ground. Trying to walk on it was like trying to walk on the beach or on snow; taking one step at a time. Y/N looked up and saw how the stars were more visible and she looked at them in awe. She felt as if the purple hues would engulf her as she continued staring. That soon ended when Marc flipped the light on the trucks roof on, lighting the hood and anything near it.

Bidding the stars a farewell, she walked over to see Marc and Layla placing the pieces of constellations on the hood.

“This should be like a puzzle right?” Y/N looked at each piece to see if there was anything similar.

There wasn’t. It just looked like someone put dots on random places and called it a day. Layla grabbed one piece and then another, holding them near. That didn’t fit. She placed them down and looked to Marc who was doing the same thing. Then Y/N followed.

The three probably spent about 30 minutes in trying to figure out the map to Ammits tomb until Marc gave up.

Slamming the pieces down onto the hood, he gripped his hair frustration.

“We’re gonna be here all night trying to figure this shit out” he placed his elbows on the truck and covered his face, trying to gain himself again.

Y/N looked at the pieces again but felt her brain about to explode with seeing so many stars in one sitting. She placed them down and rubbed her eyes. As she did this, she swore she saw the same stars as she had her eyes closed.

“You think they might have a completed set online?” She grumbled.

“I don’t think the gods would want the route to the tomb of a goddess to be that accesible” Layla sighed as she leaned on the truck.

The three just stared down at the trucks hood. Just the sound of the wind moving the sand in the distance.

“…why don’t you let Steven out? He might be able to help us” Layla hesitates, “He understands this more than us three put together”

Marc thinks about it but Khonshus booming voice comes out.

“I summon the gods, you summon the worm” Khonshu kneels on the top of the truck.

Y/N looks at him and rolls her eyes, “Alright let me see you do this”

Khonshu ignored her, probably because he couldn’t do it.

“He won’t return the body”

“Marc we can’t wait. It’s okay, just let go” Layla pleads.

“She’s right Marc, like you said, this is time sensitive. We need to get to the tomb thing soon” Y/N looks at him hoping he would understand.

Marc clenched his fists and jaw, lashing out, he grabs the side mirror of the truck. He pulls it off in a fit of anger. Y/N flinches and stares at him grab the pieces of paper from the hood and walk a few feet away with the mirror.

Y/N stares back at the broken mirror and then at Layla, “Drama queen am I right?”. This earns a laugh from Layla, “Very much so”

The two look at him as he talks to his reflection, most likely Steven, and his body suddenly jolts up. His demeanor then turns into a slouched timid one. Steven now being in control again, he kneels down and starts arranging the pieces together while using tape to keep them in place.

Layla and Y/N walk closer and kneel next to him.

“Steven?” Layla calls out.

He looks up and stares into her eyes. As if he’s in a trance. Y/N clears her throat and he turns to her.

“I’m here too” she raises her hand.

“Ah right of course, I missed our time together” he says. He holds out the the pieces and explains how Egyptians used the stars and the sun to navigate their way through the desert. They both listen in, intrigued at the historical facts.

“Et voila” Steven holds up the taped pieces which are formed in a star.

“Oh shit!” Y/N looks at it marveled and so does Layla.

Steven looks at her face and smiles, “It’s uh French”. Layla laughs.

Y/N elbows Steven on the rib, “I think she knows what it is mate”.

Steven mutters an ‘oh right’.

“Anyways what now?” Y/N looks at the two.

Steven stares at the paper star and stands up, with the girls following. “Not sure but-“ he suddenly sees holes which line up into a constellation.

“We should be able to find the coordinates of that constellation, let me scan it” Layla brings out a device that looks like tablet and begins to scan it.

“Yeah but you see the problem is that, Senfu marked the tomb like 2,000 years ago…” Steven explains.

“Don’t stars move positions over time?” Y/N looks at Steven.

He nods, “So unless we know how the sky looked like on that date, we’re buggered”

“I remember that night. I remember every night” Khonshu stares off I to the desert on top of a hill.

Steven looks back at the two girls and points at him, Y/N nodding in understanding. He begins to walk up the steep hill of sand, with the two following. Layla however is still confused. She gently tugs Y/N’s arm and makes a puzzled expression.

“Oh it’s the bird god thing”, Y/N says nonchalant. Noticing Laylas expression becoming even more befuddled, she explains further.

“Bird god decided to show himself to me” she looks back at Khonshu still staring at the distance, “I wonder why…”

Shaking out of her thoughts, she gestures her head to Steven and Khonshu. The two follow up the hill, trying not to slip, well more Y/N, she wasn’t very experienced with this level of sand.

Once they get up to the top, Khonshu is nowhere to be found. Steven and Y/N look around but are only met with their shadows from the bright moon rays.

Steven calls out to him and is met again with Khonshus reverberating voice.

“I can turn back the night sky, but it comes with a cost and I can’t do it alone”

Wind chimes in instantly and Khonshu appears again next to Steven.

“Steven and Y/N, tell Marc that when the gods imprison me, to come back and set me free”

Y/N tilts her head at him, surprised that he is also trusting her. Yet she can’t continue think on it as Steven is wrapped in cloth which soon turns into his iconic suit.

“Oh damn,” Y/N exclaims with a tad bit of excitement.

“Wait what? What’s happening?” Layla asks.

“Khonshu and Steven are about to turn the night sky back to when Ammit was imprisoned” she practically jumps, wondering how that’ll look.

Layla nods and almost seems as excited as Y/N.

Steven then lifts his right hand, following Khonshus action. The sky glows brighter than it did before, showing the different tones more clearly. With the other hand the two begin to move it to the side, as if trying to move something.

Y/N looks yo to the sky and begins to see it rotate as if Steven was spinning a globe. One would get dizzy but Y/N was too starstruck to keep her eyes away. As Steven keeps moving his hand, the night begins rotate even faster to the point where the stars and the moon are shown through only a streak of white.

“This is fucking crazy” Y/N continues to stare.

The sky begins to slow down and stop at the same night sky from that day. Layla immediately bring her tablet up and begins to scan while Steven grunts trying to keep it steady.

Immediately after, Khonshu falls to his knees but continues to leave his arms raised. Unfortunately, his right arm gives up and almost becomes numb, falling to his side. So does Stevens.

Steven tries to raise it again but let’s out a noise of exhaustion, “I don’t know how long to do this”.

Looking over to Layla who is trying find the coordinates, she yells them out and Steven sighs in relief. Dropping his hands down.

Khonshu begins to disappear and Steven starts to become weak at his knees. Y/N tried to go and help him up but his body weight holds her down too.

He suddenly faints and falls numb to the ground. Layla and Y/N rush to his side and shake him.

“Hey hey! Wake up Steven! Marc?!” Layla shakes his body, pleading for one of the boys to come out and sit up.

“Shit, shit, come on guys!” Y/N begins to lightly slap their face. Trying to get a response.

Seeing that nothing is working, Layla looks at Stevens body and then to Y/N.

“Help me carry him back to the truck”

Y/N doesn’t think twice and begins to lift his legs while Layla lifts his shoulders. They both struggle but are able to lift him off the ground. Slowly they try to move down the hill but their grips gives out and drop Steven in the process. Y/N’s eyes widen and look at Layla.

“He won’t remember that” Layla waves off.

Y/N smiles and nods but then turns her head to a light that seems to come their way. She squints her eyes and tries to make out what it is, she sees it’s another truck. Realizing that they’ve been followed, she looks to Layla to tell her but can see that she already saw the sight by the face she was making.

“Help me drag him away” she says quickly, but before they can even grab him, bullets begin to fly their way. Even thought they were missing and landing on the sand, the two freaked out and fell down the hill with Steven.

The truck still in pursuit, missed them by a few feet and begin to drive around shining a light. Layla looks at truck and then turns to Y/N.

“Stay with Steven, I’ll try to stop them” she grabs the shoulders of the teen.

“Let me help!” She says loudly yet quietly.

Layla shakes her head and places a finger to her lips. She begins to run back to the truck and hides on the side and then moves to the trunk. Opening and then going in, she stays low as she hears men speaking in Arabic, saying they saw someone running.

Back with Y/N she feels her anxiety rise up as she looks at Layla being cornered. She looks to Steven who is unconscious and bites her lip.

“Uh, I think you should be fine…I’ll be right back” she races towards Layla but stops a few feet away.

Seeing how the truck begins to close in to Layla who’s hiding in their own truck, Y/N decides to bring their attention to her.

“Oye! Hijo de putas!” She waves her arms around.

The man who is sitting at the top turns to her, yelling to the driver that she was there. The truck begins to charge at her with the machine gun going off towards her.

“I forgot about the gun” she yells as she runs a different direction.

She continues to run, glancing back at the truck. Fortunately, the bullets weren’t hitting, jeez was the shooter bad. She waited for the truck to get as close as a distance. Y/N focused her energy to her right forearm. Finding the perfect chance, she suddenly turns which catches the shooter and river off guard. She then punches her arm up, causing the tentacles to rise up while holding the truck up. She then rapidly brings her arm down which causes the tentacles to slam the truck down, flattening it and hopefully making the two men unconscious.

She breathes out and smiles, walking back to Layla who stares at her with amazement. “You did fantastic!” She raises her hand up for a high five but stops when she sees that one of the men is still awake and trying to move the stuck machine gun towards the two. Layla sighs and grabs a red flare, lighting it then throwing it to the enemies truck. The vehicle instantly explodes and parts come flying.

“Now that was badass” Y/N raises her hand to Layla.

The two share a quick high-five. Layla smiles at Y/N but then furrows her brows to behind Y/N.

“What?” Y/N slowly turns and sees the figure of a man standing behind her.

Freaking out, she uses what’s left of her energy and punches whatever foe is still left from the small battle.

“Ow!”

She looks closer and sees Steven holding his nose in pain. Immediately she feels terrible and apologizes.

“I thought you were another of those bad guys!”

“We’ll im not! Jeez, you have a strong punch, I think you’ve broken my nose” Steven looks at his hand and sees there’s a blood stain.

Y/N has made Steven bleed.

And she felt terrible.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry!” Y/N runs to the truck and grabs any piece of cloth she could find and runs back to Steven. “Here!”

She moves Stevens hand and forcefully places the cloth on his nose.

“Thanks love but it’s-“

“Lean your head down! Not back cause it supposedly can drown you? I don’t know!”

She pushes Stevens head down. He chuckled and grabs her shoulder as a reassurance, “Y/N don’t worry, I don’t think your small fisted punch can kill me”

“But I never punched you nor made you bleed dude! Also a lesson to not sneak up on me”

“A very good lesson at that, but it’s alright love it just means you can fend foes!” Steven cheers.

“I guess” Y/N slumps, still feeling guilty.

“Alright I believe it is time for us to get going. Don’t worry Y/N, Steven will survive” Layla says with a hint of humor.

Y/N nods and begins to move back to the truck, this time she was left to the back seat again, while the actual adults were at the front.

From there the car ride was rather quiet aside from the music that played. There would be times that Layla and Y/N would go into a musical number but it was probably only a couple of times. However it wasn’t just them two, Steven would also join. He had more energy when he sung which made the girls happier.

Y/N thought of ways to spice up the car ride by playing a few games. Sadly, the games were reduced to ‘Truth or Dare’ and ‘Never Have I Ever’ since the other ones required more room and surroundings; in this case they only had each other, the interior of the vehicle, and of course, sand.

So there really wasn’t much to do than just lay down and sleep. Y/N would offer to drive so Layla could rest but she would turn it down. Either because she was fine or she didn’t want Y/N to mysteriously wreck the truck.

After hours passed, the sun was beginning to rise. Layla was trying to rush to the tomb before Harrow got to it by stepping on the gas.

“When we get there, I think we will need Marc. We don’t know what Harrow might do” Layla glances at Steven.

He looks like he shrinks into the seat and then looks up to the mirror to his right.

“Actually, me and Marc came into an agreement that when we no longer had Khonshu, he would give the body to me”

Y/N scooted closer to the front and placed her elbows on the seats, “He said that once the whole Harrow business was over with that he’d leave?”

“Yeah but he and I changed our minds and now it’s when Khonshu isn’t here. Which he isn’t”

Layla grips the wheel tight, “So you guys made a deal, where he would just disappear from my life. And you didn’t think I’d be made aware of that?”

Y/N leans back into her seat and hopes the leather eats her whole. The atmosphere became so awkward so quickly and she didn’t know how to get out of it. It felt like she was back at home where her parents were arguing and she was just trying to eat a slice of pizza.

Yet that wasn’t the cherry on the top.

“Oh, well hadn’t he disappeared from your life already?” Steven asks her.

Layla stays quiet for a second and nods.

Y/N is very tempted to slap Steven right now. But oh god is this tension so unbearable. She covers her face trying to hide away.

“His suit was the best feature wasn’t it? Doesn’t even have that anymore” Layla looks straight ahead, “Plus he would want to go at this alone. We’re not gonna do that”

Steven nods, “Nope, it’s just you, Y/N, me, and the open road”

Y/N just squints her eyes seeing what he’s doing. Before she could open her mouth, the truck instantly comes to a halt.

“We’re gonna have to go on foot from here” Layla opens her door and begins to climb out.

Steven nods and does the same. Y/N stares at them and looks around the truck to see what they might need. All they had were spare clothes and a few snacks. She looked to the trunk and found a small backpack. She reached over to grab it and put in the rest of the small food.

Zipping it up, she got off and saw Layla and a Steven waiting for her. She hurried her step, “Got everything, well snacks in case were hungry you know”

Layla smiled, “Perfect, I have a few tools too just in case”

They looked over to Steven who had a backpack as well, “I uh, I have a few items in here too”

They shrugged and nodded and looked to the path before them. There were two canyons that framed a path that looked narrow.

The two walked through, being enveloped by the shadows. All they could hear were crows cawing from above and the sound of a small stream going through. They came upon an arch that had the top be a large rock that snuggly fit in, leaving space to walk under. However, on top of it was a goat that looked down at them.

Y/N scoffed and gestured her head to Steven to look at it. “Will you look at that, you should take a picture of that” he smiled.

She took out her phone and tried to aim it where the sun hit the angle right. With a quick click, she showed Steven the final result and he made an ‘ooh’ sound. Layla raised a thumbs up and said how photography suited her.

“Have you thought of becoming a photographer?” Layla questioned

Y/N simply shrugged, “I don’t know, kinda? But I kinda quit on that”

“Maybe you should look into it more” Layla patted her back.

Y/N smiled and nodded.

——

After almost an hour of walking, the three stand before a large plain of sand. The wind blows across their ear as they feel the small grains of sand. They felt their skin burn from the sun rays, especially now that they were away from the shade that the canyons were providing.

Their eyes pan from the tan canvas to an area that has tents pitched up.

“That must be where the tomb is” Layla informs.

“That’s got to be Harrows guys camp there” Y/N squints trying to look closer.

“Yup, that just means we have no time to lose” Steven looks at the two.

Arriving at the camp, there were many trucks scattered around. Walking through caution, they saw there was a few camels tied down. Steven waved to one as Y/N took a selfie with them.

Walking further in, their eye catched the side of a mountain. There was a small entrance that was framed with what seemed to be sticks to make a cover. Y/N began to walk towards it but felt Layla pull her arm back gently.

“We should first look for supplies” Layla waited for a confirmation before she began to walk off.

Y/N looked around, trying to find a place to start. Steven looked too and pointed to one tent.

“Maybe we can start with that one and then work around?”

“Oh, I was planning on just going off on my own to another one” Y/N pointed to a different tent.

“Well wouldn’t it be best if we stuck together? You know, safety”

“I mean yeah but I’ll be fine on my own, and plus I got this,” she raised an arm up which she then had a black strand appear from it, “so nothing to worry”

Steven tightened his lips and thought. “Alright, just if there’s anything that seems like trouble-“

“I’ll scream for you and Layla!” Y/N yelled out as she began to walk off.

Pulling open the curtains of the tent, she looked inside making sure there wasn’t anyone inside. Stepping inside after seeing she was fine, she noticed how it was a bit cooler inside. Although there was no lights, the sun made an orange glow happen inside.

There were a few beds, not the best ones thought but Y/N felt rather envious of the thought of being able to sleep on a bed. Oh how she missed her bed. There were a few tables that had many things on top like paper and small tools. She looked at each surface; grabbing every bottle to see if there was any water or even looking at any documents if there was anything important. Nothing though.

Where would someone hide suck important things? She already looked everywhere. Not everywhere though. She looked to the beds and went down to see if there was anything underneath. The first two beds, she was only met with messed up looking shoes or just sand. However on the last one she was surprised to see a small box.

Pulling it out from under, she was glad that it had no special lock or code. Inside she found what seemed to be letters and a small golden telescope. She shrugged and took the small golden thing but then turned to the papers. Taking one in hand, she tried to read it but it was no use. The letter was in Arabic.

She looked through the rest and it was no use. Still, there was something that laid under one of the letters. Maybe it was info for the tomb but it wasn’t. It was actually different.

It was a Polaroid picture of a family. There was a man who had a beard, almost in his middle years. He held a closed mouth smile. Next to him was a woman around the same age who had long black hair. She also had a closed mouth smile but it was more warm. Infront of them were two small children, a boy and a girl. They held a great big smile, showing their teeth. Each one having a few feature from each parent.

Y/N smiled but then frowned. She kept thinking of Harrows men as just Harrows men. Yet she forgot that they each have a family and come from somewhere. They most likely had people waiting for them back home. Waiting for them to say that they helped “save the world”.

She wondered if how this man’s family was feeling. We’re they worried? We’re they proud? Do they hope for him to get back?

Suddenly she thought of her own family. We’re they worried? We’re they proud? Did they hope Y/N was coming back? Or were they maybe glad she left?

This man’s family probably couldn’t wait to see him. But how about her own family?

She felt her eyes widen when she realized how these thoughts came in. She blinked them away and held her face.

Stop thinking like that. They miss you. They miss you…right?

She immediately put the picture back and closed the box. Sliding it quickly under the bed, she got up and began walking out the tent.

Y/N walked around the camp trying to remember which tent Steven said he’d go to. It was starting to get rather hot, that she had to take off her brown jacket and tie it around her waist, leaving her in the green t-shirt.

She continued to walk through, catching glances of the camels judging her as she tried to find her friends. Fortunately, one of the tents that she opened she saw Steven with his back facing her. He was looking at his reflection from a mirror and talking to it. On it, Y/N saw how the mirror would distort from Steven talking to what seemed to be Marc.

“You’re in love with my wife?”

“I really appreciate your concern, mage. I really do. But we’ve got it from here” Steven says almost with a bit of sass.

“I swear to you Steven. If you lay one finger on her! I’ll throw us off a cliff!!”

“I’ll call you” Steven says and turns around.

Not expecting Y/N to be there, he jumps. She raises and eyebrow and smirks.

“What was going on there? I could barely hear but it sounded like something about Layla?” She tilts her head to the side.

“Jesus I didn’t know you were there…Uhm it’s nothing important. Just Marc being sensitive about me being on the reigns of the horse” He flared back to a reflection.

“Right…It’s your guys business,” she raises her hands up, “Anyways, I wanted to see if you found anything”

Steven pulls out two flashlights from his bag and shows them to Y/N, “You?”

“Just this golden telescope but uh…I still don’t know if should keep it or put it back”

“Why’s that? I say keep it as your first treasure of this mission” He smiles.

Y/N purses her lips and looks to the floor, “Yeah, I’ll keep it”

Steven looks at her confused, seeing that she looks guilty about taking the small trinket. Not knowing about the backstory it had.

“Y/N is everything alri-“

“Steven! Y/N!” Layla begins to shout from outside.

“That’s our cue” Y/N walks out of the tent and to Laylas way.

Steven sighs and follows behind. Before it was easy telling each other anything but with what has been happening with Harrow, it has become difficult. He was set on trying to finish this soon so he and Y/N could go back to living everyday lives.

Layla waits by the cave with a pair of safety belts in hand with one she is already wearing.

"What are these for?" Y/N looks down as Layla begins to help her put one of the safety belts on.

"Well it turns out," She breathes out trying to tighten one of the gears, "we will have to jump down a hole to get to the tomb"

"Wait what?!" Y/N pulls back causing Layla to loosen her grip, "I thought it was just waltzing in and the tomb being there!"

"Yeah but then that would be too easy for thieves, wouldn't it?" Steven scrunched his nose.

Y/N looks at him, then at Layla, then at the darkness of the cave.

"If you don't want to go, you don't have to. You can maybe stay here and be on guard" Layla looks into Y/Ns eyes.

"What? She can't just stay out here. What if Harrow comes?" Steven's heart almost stopped with just the thought.

"Well no offense, but she's the only one with powers left, so I think she'll be able to at least run away to safety if that were to happen"

That is true, she is the only one left with powers. Meaning what if Harrow gets to them first. Who would protect them?

"Its alright, I'll go"

"Y/N, if you are afraid to go, you don't have to-" Layla places a hand on her shoulder.

"No, it's alright. Plus I'm the only one with powers left and you guys won't have me there to protect you" She smiles.

Layla gives Y/N a grin and continues to fasten the safety belt on her. After she begins to help Steven, which is rather an awkward moment since there is tension there. A romantic tension.

"You smell like him" Layla looks at Stevens lips and then to his eyes.

Y/Ns eyes widen and she slowly begins to look away, immediately finding interest in her bag. However she sneaks in glimpses to see what is happening, which she is surprised to see Layla trying to lean in for a kiss.

Sadly, Steven moves his head away, "Marcs trying to protect you from Khonshu"

Layla backs up and looks at him dazed, "What?"

"He thinks Khonshu Wants you for his Avatar, and he won't let that happen"

Y/N sighs at the disaster, "Great to ruin the mood".

"Well I don't need protection, I need honesty" Layla grabs a glove angrily and begins to put it on. She then begins to fasten Stevens's safety belt.

Suddenly Steven grabs Laylas shoulders.

"Wait..." Y/N looks at them with a puzzled look.

Steven then goes in for a kiss. Y/N gasps loudly and stares at them with her mouth ajar.

The kiss looks rather awkward but its a whole different pace for the day. They separate and Layla looks at him with an awkward smile, "Im gonna go down first, before I belay"

Layla begins walk to the cave and into the hole.

Y/N stands up and begins to slowly clap, walking closer to Steven. "Damn Steven my boy, I thought I would be the one to get my first kiss, guess not" she laughs.

"Oh shut it...do you think I made things awkward?"

"Well...kinda? She didn't slap you so that's a good sign I think. There is bad news though" she crosses her arms.

"What?" He cocks his head to the side

"Marc won't be liking this, he might be fuming in there," she says with a British accent.

Steven opens his mouth but is met with his fist plunging into his face. Y/N looks at him with shock and then erupts in a fit of laughter.

"That's not funny" Steven rubs his nose, "I have been punched twice now"

"It is kinda but hey I apologized for the first one!" Y/N chuckles as she begins to make her way into the cave.

Down at the hole, Layla walks over to a statue that sits by an entrance. She looks down smiling at the sand and begins to draw a symbol.

“Ah shit!” Y/N yells out as she descends down to the hole. Fortunately she was able to land on her two feet but she continued to grip on the rope for dear life. Layla chuckles and walks over to her and helps her get the safety belt off.

“Not so scary was it?” She teases Y/N.

“Not really, but falls like that still freak me out you know. Like this one time, I went on this one Jurassic World ride and there was this-,” Y/N pauses and looks at Layla sheepishly, “Sorry, I was about to ramble”

“It’s fine, I’d like to hear it” Layla smiles warmly at her.

“Yeah, but probably some other time since we’re kinda on a tight schedule” Layla nods, Y/N noticing the symbol that is behind her, “What’s that?”

Layla turns and sort of jumps at what she wrote being acknowledged, “Oh, it’s a symbol for my father. He would have loved it here”

“Hmm, I like that,” Y/N turns to Layla with a smile, “I think he’d be proud that you were able to come”

Layla returns a grin and thanks her. Noticing that the atmosphere has become cheesy, Y/N clears her throat and looks back at the symbol.

“So was he into Egypt?”

“Oh he wasn’t just into it, he was obsessed. He was an archeologist and would travel around the globe to find neat things. One of the main places he’d go would be here in Egypt” Layla breaths out as she remember the fond memories of her father.

“Heh, your dad and my grandpa would have gotten along just fine then” Y/N smiles down, touching one of the statues that sat there.

“He was an archeologist too?”

“Not exactly, he was just into history of all kind. Mesoamérica would be his top one but Egyptian history came second. Man, he would talk my ear off about all the facts” Y/N begins to draw the initials of her grandfather near the area that Layla drew, “I rambled didn’t I? Sorry”

Layla shakes her head and comes by, looking at the two figures. She squeezes Y/N’s shoulder, “Both of them would be proud of us right now”.

“Yeah…”

The two shared a moment of silence just staring at the statue infront of them. Y/N never really put a thought on Laylas personal life nor even tried to ask about it. Yet, she didn’t not regret being the second to come down hole and share small moment with her.

Of course moments don’t last this long since not even a second later is there a tumbling down with a scream. It felt like things went in slow motion in those few seconds and Y/N was able to see that Steven was falling. Although it was a small fall, it still pumped an adrenaline and caused her to bring her arms out and cause tentacles to wrap around Steven before he could fall.

Steven looked surprised and looked at the tentacles as they brought him to the ground. The limbs then went back into Y/N and she stood there with a smirk.

“Told you guys would need me” Steven rolled his eyes and dusted himself off.

“Perhaps you were. Did I miss anything?”

Layla shakes her head, “Not really”

Steven nods but then sees the statue behind Layla and Y/N, “Oh how beautiful”. He walks towards it and beams with excitement, “Oh if these came to life and told me to answer a riddle, I would not hesitate”

“I think I’d shit my pants if they did” Y/N tilts hee head as she continues to examine the sculptures.

“Alright, I believe we should start heading inside before Harrow comes” Layla points to the opening.

“Right,” Steven looks at Y/N and gestures her to go first.

The three go through the entrance which leads to a narrow, triangular tunnel. They continue and notice they are lead through turns and circles which leads them to a small room. In it, there is a cube table in the center made out of sand.

Layla shines a flashlight to one opening and then to another, “It’s a maze”

“It’s a-maze-ing” Steven laughs at his own joke.

“No like, there are six paths” Layla walks around the area.

Y/N stares at him, “Good effort, maybe add a bit more cheeriness”

“Oh I apologize, I didn’t know this was going to be critiqued”

Y/N snickers and shines a light around the room, trying to find any clues. She walks over to the small table and inspects it. Nothing.

“Man I would suck in escape rooms” Y/N rubs the back of her head.

Steven mutters ‘6 points’ and begins to draw on the sand on the table. While that happens, Layla picks up a few bullet shells, “What would they be shooting at?”

Y/N shrugs, “Who knows, maybe another avatar is trying to help us”

“Aha!” Steven exclaims and points to the drawing, “This whole structure is-“

“The Eye of Horus” Y/N comes closer to the table

“Look at you, I didn’t know you had any Egyptian facts in you” Steven teases.

Y/N eyes him down, “It’s the only thing I remember from our ex-job” she then looks down to the drawing.

“Ammits final Avatar was a pharaoh” Layla stares down.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but this is like a protection thingy no?” Y/N points at the doodle.

“Yup, for the royals. I am honestly proud you know this” Steven smiles at Y/N.

Y/N feels fuzzy, smiling back at him. It felt like an actual praise and not some fake thing to encourage you.

Steven begins to explain about the Eye of Horus and what each point represents; the 6 senses. The eyebrow which are for thoughts. Pupil sight. One corner of the eye is hearing. The other is smell. Another is touch. Lastly, the long curvy line is the tongue.

“The avatar would be Ammits voice” Layla looks up at Steven.

Click! The puzzle was solved and the three began to walk through the path that would be the tongue of the eye. It was another long tunnel but at the end they were met with a big and tall room. At the center was a table and on the sides were rectangle openings with what seemed to be mummies. On the walls there were Egyptian paintings.

Layla shines her light on one of the paintings, “Oh those are Heka Priests. They would have been entombed in here to protect the pharaoh”

“What is a Heka?” Y/N shines her flashlight on the mummies by the walls.

“Sorcerers of their time. They’ve been down here for centuries,” Layla then points to the bodies, “These must be the unlucky souls that crossed their path”

“Ahahah…shit I hope these guys are dead” Y/N breaths out.

The sound of gagging catches Y/N’s attention. Steven is covering his mouth and is looking down, “Oh my god”

Y/N walks to see what he is staring at and her eyes widen, “Oh hell no, is that blood?”

The two stares down at the table which has engravings and on it is the scarlet color splattered everywhere.

Layla gets close and examines it close.

“Oh god, are those chunky meaty bits?” Steven gags.

“Oh my god dude! Don’t describe it! I just got over what I saw back at that cliff” Y/N shivers at the memory of finding ‘not’ Marc killing men left and right.

“Right I’m sorry” Steven raises a hand up to Y/N.

Y/N uses her shirts collar to cover her nose from the smell. She walks around the table and finds jars of clay with the lid being shaped as a jackal. Some of the jars however are covered in red stains.

Layla picks up one of the tools that are set on the table, covered in more fresh blood.

“Alright we should keep moving” Layla begins to walk to the other opening and stops in her tracks.

On the floor, there is a trail of blood. As if someone dragged a corpse away from the table.

“Oh nope, nope. Nah dude, do you see horror movies? This is exactly what the dumb people do; follow the trail of blood” Y/N breaths out and begins to hyperventilate.

Steven notices and places a hand on Y/Ns back, “Hey, hey, hey. It’s alright. Nothing will happen. I’ll keep you safe, yeah?”

Y/N nods and begins to control her breathing again.

Steven breaths out in relief and looks around the room. He looks up to the second floor and finds a second opening.

“Look! Should we check it out?” Steven looks to Layla who is rubbing circles on Y/N.

She nods, “Alright you go up there”

“Wait me?”

So there goes Steven, climbing a ladder to the second floor. At the top, it looks like it was an area where the Heka Priests would store some of their items and even just keep the bodies there. Since there was one on wooden table.

“All good?” Layla asks.

“Yeah, oh look here,” he looks to a wall scripture, “It says here that Ammit should be bound to an ushabti. Those statue thingies”

Steven continues to look around and begins to list the different items that are used for the rituals. Obviously, getting distracted.

“Hey Steven!” Layla whisper-yells, “Remember the opening”

Steven says an ‘oh right’ and heads away from the balcony. Y/N who is now calmer, looks worriedly and begins to walk towards the ladder.

“Hey hey, where are you going?”

“Imma go with Steven, I have a feeling something’s bound to-“

“Hey it’s this way!” Steven tells

Suddenly there are gunshots that sound from outside. The three freeze up and look to the entrance that they came from.

“Harrow” Layla looks at Steven.

“What are they shooting at?”

“I dont-“ A clicking sound then cuts off Layla.

“Hide!” Y/N whispers.

“Wait Y/-“ Steven yells but stops when he sees a shadow loom from the tunnel they walked through.

Layla runs behind the table and crouches down. Steven runs to a nearby table as well and crouches down too. Unfortunately for Y/N, she has no other hiding spot but the upward grave of those unfortunate souls.

She runs to one and cringes as she moves one of the corpses to the side, hiding beneath it. Hiding in complete darkness and dead body, she holds her breath. A man looking creature then comes in while dragging the body of a man with a vest. It looks like a man who’s in his middle years and has a short beard. Seeing a resemblance, Y/N feels her heart stop.

It was the man who was in the picture. The one with the family.

She could hear her heart beating faster by the second. In her head she’s hoping it calms down, or else that thing will come for her. Her breaths are slow yet heavy as she stares as the thing takes out a knife. She looks over to Layla who is only a feet away from the monster.

Although it was dark she could see that the man-looking thing has a dark blue skin tone. It wears a golden chest plate with a collar adorned by jewels. It wears withered cloth at the bottom with a belt holding those same jars they saw.

A gushing sound is then heard and the groans of the man. It was obvious what it was doing yet Y/N was still at lost. That was until it pulled something out of the man’s torso and placed it inside on of the jars from before. Giving her a view of the man on the table, the imagery was explicit. From his stomach to his chest he had a long cut and Y/N swore she saw some of his intestines.

She felt her eyes well up with tears, remembering the picture that was under the bed. His kids would be waiting for their dad, not knowing that he was being killed in a gruesome way.

Aside from feeling sadness, she felt disgusted. Again, movies had a way to make you think you’d be able to handle scenes like these in real life. Still, Y/N felt like throwing up. She looks at one of the paintings above and then at the creature. In the paintings, the Heka Priests wear a golden collar with blue beads and jewels on it. Y/N looks back at the thing and notices it has the same collar. Realizing that the monster is a Heka Priest, it makes more sense what they have gotten into.

“What the actual fuck” she thought.

She continues to stare at Layla who is trying to get far away from the Heka. Slowly moving her body to behind the table, Y/N worries more now that she can't see Layla.

Layla continues to crawl away, more focused on the noise she's making than her surroundings, she knocks down one of the jars.

Y/N feels like she is about to throw up her heart as she sees the Heka stop and walks around the table trying to find the cause of the noise. It begins to make a clicking noise more loudly which creeps the three out more.

It begins to get closer to the other side of the table until a creaking from above takes its attention. It looks up at where Steven is hiding and jumps on the table to try to get a better view.

Steven tries to sit still but unfortunately causes the priest to jump to the bottom of the floorboard that he stands on. Steven gasps and stands up immediately. The priest begins to climb to Steven.

Y/N peeks and sees how her friend is about to die and looks around to try to find a way to distract it. The closest thing she has is the corpse that is in her space bubble. She breathes out and gets the courage. Does she have a plan? Not really, she is just hoping a god, maybe Hathor, can come and rescue them. Which doesn't happen.

Y/N pushes the corpse down which leads to a loud thud. The priest looks down and jumps off the small balcony. He lands right in front of Y/N and looks at her. She prepares to fight but another loud sound is met. The priest looks to where the sound of a jar being smashed to the wall comes from and sees Layla standing there.

"Run!" Y/N yells out and Layla listens.

Layla runs to the opening which they weren't going to go through in the first place. Y/N comes out of the hiding spot and breaths in deeply. She looks up and sees Steven looking down.

Y/N climbs up and is met with Steven grabbing her shoulders, "What were you thinking?!"

"Hey, I saved your ass!"

"Which put you in harm's way!" Steven breathes out, "Sorry, just don't do that again you understand? "

Y/N nods and Steven lets go of her. He looks to the other opening he was talking about, "Layla is probably on the other side"

The two walk through another tunnel, this time longer than the others. It was covered in sandstone in which you can tell it was starting to fall apart due to the cracks. The only thing illuminating the way was their flashlights.

Halfway, Steven looks at Y/N and sees how her expression carries paranoia and fatigue. The two hadn't slept in their own beds for about two days now. Y/N used to always joke around or keep a positive vibe but it seemed like the past events had put a pause to that. In spite of her trying to tease him earlier today, he could tell she was trying to distract herself. Steven didn't blame her, the poor girl was only worried about attending college in a new country. Instead of worrying about exams, she was now stressing over the end of the world.

Actually, what was she trying to study?

"Hey, I have been thinking and I realized I never asked you about what you were majoring" Steven looks at her.

She raises a brow, "Why are you asking all of a sudden?"

"Well it looks like we will be walking through this path for a while so might as well make small talk," He gestures to the lit tunnel, "Also because I am interested"

"...Nursing"

"Ah, so you want to be a nurse. That sounds fun" He grins at her but she only gives a half smile.

"Yeah... it's pretty cool"

Steven's eyes drew together, "It doesn't sound like you think it is"

Y/N looks down, "It...I mean it doesn't really matter, it makes good money"

"...Shouldn't you choose something that you like?"

Y/N stays quiet and shrugs.

Now that Steven thinks about it, he noticed how she was still a bit more cheerful until that phone call from last night. That's when Y/Ns mood went down.

"...So I may not fluently speak Spanish but that phone call from last night...it didn't sound like good news"

Y/N's shoulders become tense, "It was nothing, just family stuff you know"

"Alright, if you don't want to say, I won't force you. Just know I will gladly listen if you need to let a few things out"

Y/N breathes in and thinks for a while, "...I guess it was obvious huh?"

"Very"

She smiles and hesitates, "My mom saw a video of me using my powers to fight those guys at Mogarts place"

Steven's eyes widen but doesnt say anything which Y/N takes as a sign to continue.

"She asks if I'm in a gang or something. I of course say no. She tells me how I have disappointed her and my dad. That I'm just like my siblings, a disappointment"

Steven's brows wrinkle, in anger maybe, "Did you explain to her what was actually happening?"

"Tried to but she was full-on crying. So now she wants me to immediately head back home and study close” Y/N finally looks up to Steven.

“Well I can’t stand by that of course. Who else will share the afternoon gossip with me?” He elbows her gently.

Y/N laughs, “I mean, no one else can beat me…besides I’d be bored back at America”

The two begin to make their way out of the tunnel and into a room.

“It seems that the only way to prove to her, is if you do something great. Might I add something that can defeat a bad man and make you look like the hero” he gestures to what is inside the room.

The two carefully walk in, stepping over a stream that flows into a large square in the center. Many pillars stand with more painting on them while there are a few sculptures.

“A tomb gif for a pharaoh” Steven gapes at the scene, “Oh! Look at that! There’s Thutmose II and Nefertiti”

“Wait Nefertiti!? I think shes one of the greats no?” She shines a light at each tomb.

“Yup, which means the treasure we’re looking for should be here”

“Wait wait, we’re in an Egyptian tomb…last time someone came in they died unexpectedly…dude are we going to die?”

Steven scoffs, “Probably not…I hope”

They slowly walk up to the square, stepping on stones to avoid falling into the water.

“So you kissed her”

“You heard that?” Y/N whips her head around.

“Yeah it’s just Marc”

“Ohh, he must be angry with you then”

Steven nods and looks down at his reflection on the water. “What are you gonna do? Drown us?”

“I should”

They climb up the square and lay eyes on a sarcophagus. Steven gets closer and begins to inspect it, muttering about Macedonian.

“It can’t be…” Steven stares down at the sarcophagus.

“Wait what?”

“I think we’re looking at the long lost tomb of Alexander the Great”

The tomb is what King Tuts looks like except more withered and not as bright. Except the gold being the thing making it stand out.

“Oh my god! Let me take a pic- wait is that allowed? Would I get cursed?” Y/N holds her phone to her chest.

“Us being here is probably already a no-no rule”

Steven looks down and bites his lip, “There are so many alarms telling me to not open this thing”

“You want Harrow to get to Ammit first?”

“Oh I can hear him now” Y/N looks at a nearby reflection of Marc, “Hey my guy, been long. Definitely had no part in keeping you hostage by the way”

“Yeah, missed you too”

Steven places his palms on the lid of the tomb and begins to push. Seeing him struggle, Y/N moves to his side and also begins to push the top off.

Inside, a body wrapped tightly in cloth lays there. Its arms are crossed and on it is a piece made out of gold with two circles connected by wings. By the torso, there is a golden axe with designs on the blade.

"We are definitely cursed now" Y/N breathes out

"Well if you keep saying it, you might just manifest it," Steven says in an eery tone to try to freak her out.

Y/N pauses and stares at Steven.

"You'll be fine don't worry, is the ushabti one of those things?"

Steven shakes his head, "Well if you were trying to hide it for all eternity, you wouldn't want it to be this easy to find"

Y/N snaps her fingers and points at Steven, "Wait! You know how the tongue is a symbol for voice and it's also the thing that brought us here? Wouldnt the ushabti be hidden in the mouth or something?"

"Alexander was the voice of Ammit, yes!" Steven exclaims but then slouches seeing the corpse, "Oh dear..."

It doesn't take long for Y/N to understand and looks down at the body, "That's all you buddy" she pats his back.

Steven breathes in and begins to rip the wrappings from the neck up. Alexander the Great's skull is then unveiled.

Steven then grabs the jaw ad opens it up. Seeing that there is nothing in the mouth, Steven begins to slowly put his whole arm down the body's throat.

"Thats right, get in there"

"Maybe just pretend you're touching a bowl of spaghetti?" Y/N rambles and continues to give details.

"Y/N"

"Yeah?"

"That's not really helping"

"My bad" she backs away to give him space.

Steven continues digging around until his eyes widen and pull his arm back out.

"I got it!" He holds up a small ceramic statue of a half-woman and half-crocodile.

"You got it!" Y/N yells out.

The two go in for a hug but Y/N pulls away immediately. Steven looks at her puzzled.

"We can hug when I know you don't got mummy guts on you"

Steven rolls his eyes playfully, "Wait until Layla comes-"

On cue, Layla walks into the tomb and closer to them.

"Layla!" Y/N runs up to her and hugs her, "You're okay!" but she doesn't return it.

She backs away and looks at her funny. She knows this feeling, she has learned how to sense someone's feelings. And Layla was not happy.

Layla continues to walk up to Steven, keeping a few feet of space in between.

"Can he hear me?" Layla says in a serious tone

"Alexander? I don't think so, god I hope not" He gives an awkward smile.

"What happened to my father?"

The atmosphere becomes thick and it becomes uncomfortable. Y/N looks at Steven who is as lost as her. Layla gets closer to Stevens face, "Im talking to you Marc!"

She shoves Steven and his eyes begin to flutter back. His body language becomes firm and tense.

"Y/N go look for a way out" Marcs tells her without looking at her.

To Y/N it translates to "Me and mom are about to argue, go to your room so you don't listen". She gives one last look at them and heads out to the opening that they came from.

--

Remembering that there are more of Harrow men at where they came out in from, she decided to go to the other path to maybe see a hidden passage.

"Man that was awkward" She shines the light around the tunnel trying to see if there is a sign of an exit.

She wonders if Marc is doing alright handling Layla's yelling. No judgment if he was terrified, she was too. She continues walking through the path and stops to see that it led her to a small room with more statues. One that catches her eyes is one that has the head of what looks like a Doberman and the body of a man.

"I feel like I should know your name. Know how to get out of here?"

"His name is Anubis, God of the Dead" a males voice is heard from behind.

Y/N turns and sees the elderly man who is the cause of all this. The one who ruined her first day of College and now is trying to end the world.

"Oh hell no" She begins to walk away but is stopped by two men who are pointing their guns at her.

"Let's chat, shouldn't we? I don't think we really got to know each other," he walks towards them.

"How about no? With much offense, you creep me out so..."

"You know, your grandfather was an extraordinary man"

This grabs Y/Ns attention, "How do you know him?"

"Well Ammit is connected to death, so I usually like to learn more about the ones who have passed on" he walks around Y/N, "What I learned was that he was the only company that you probably had and probably the only person who understood you"

Y/N bites the inside of her mouth as tears well up, "What about it? H-How is this relevant to-"

"To what I said to you back at Mogarts. It's obvious that you find comfort in not only Marc but in Layla too"

Y/N stares down as Harrow continues to talk.

"It makes sense now on why you continue to follow them," He gets close to Y/N, "Why not join me and not only will you make your parents proud again but I can offer you to see your grandfather"

Y/N stays quiet, thinking. Her whole life she has tried to make her parents happy. To be the one that is the star of the whole family. Aside from trying to make all the aunts, uncles, and cousins envious. What next?

She never really thought of a Plan B.

The main question is, what would Marc, Steven, and Layla think? They'd be disappointed of course.

She thought about all the things they have done.

Working with Steven was fun, probably more entertaining than hanging out with her friends back home. He was kind and actually caring, looking out for her well-being.

Marc was eventful. Although she had only known him for a day or two, he taught her how to be strong. How to fight. But most of all he stood by her side and put up with all her antics. He was rather funny and also looked out for her.

Layla was sweet. There were times when she thought Layla would yell at her. Like back at the hideout when she was too scared to use her powers. She was patient and was like an older sister to her.

"What about it Y/N?"

Harrow's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up at him and he held a hand out to her. She looked at it as her breath shook. She forgot that she was scared right now. She gulped and looked into his eyes.

No one else would be able to make her feel loved, safe, and accepted like the three have.

She moved her hand to Harrows but stopped, "...Im good"

She thrust her hand at his chest, summoning a tentacle to make him fly across the room. The rest of the men started to shoot but she used her extended limbs to grab them all, crushing them.

Throwing the men away from the path she came from, she tried to run but heard a gun being loaded. She looked back and saw Harrow pointing a gun to her.

Bang! Bang!

Two gunshots.

She used her tentacles to block them. She heard metal clink on the floor and she looked down to see a bullet flattened.

"...You missed" She smiles

"You only caught one"

Y/N looks at him confused and looks down. She sees that her shirt is getting stained by a red substance. It is around her chest and notices blood oozing out as she presses her palm on it.

"What?" her breath is shaky as she looks at her bloody hand.

Looking up, she begins to run away back to the others.

Harrow stares at her as she leaves.

"Do we go after her?" One of his men ask.

He shakes his head, "Lets wait a moment, let them have a moment to say goodbye"

--

"Thats the reason we met. You just had a guilty conscious" Layla wipes tears off of her face.

"Im sorry" Marc quietly says.

The two stand there in silence before gunshots are heard from far away. The two look at each other.

"It can't be those Heka Priests" Marc looks around, worry beginning to come.

Layla shakes her head slowly and looks around, "Y/N hasn't come back"

They hear small steps, and a shadow is seen limping their way. Y/N comes out with a hand under her chest. Blood seeped through her fingers, dripping down. The color of her skin was beginning to fade.

"Marc? Layla? I think i-" She stumbled to the floor.

They ran to her, Marc catching her. He brought her away from the entrance and kneeled, placing her gently down.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" She continued to say as she choked back the tears.

"Its okay, your okay" Marc said quickly as he tried to put pressure on the wound.

"I know you told me to be careful but, but I-" Tears flowed down her face.

Layla looked through her bag trying to find bandages.

"Shh shh, I'm not angry don't worry. You just gotta hang on" He looked to Layla to see if she had anything but there was nothing.

Marc's voice broke but he continued to hold himself together. Y/N slowly began to feel her limbs going numb.

"Marc...I'm scared. I don't want to die" She cried

"You're not dying alright, I won't let that happen" He squeezed her hand.

He then began to feel her hand become loose, and he looked back at her face. Her eyes softened and the shine in her eyes disappeared. Layla covered her mouth and tears started to spring out.

Marc's eyes widened and he started to shake Y/Ns body, "Hey, Hey! Come on! Don't forget we still have that deal! We still have to figure out whos food spot is best"

Layla placed a hand on his shoulder, "Marc stop...She's gone"

Marc couldn't hold it anymore and all the tears he held in came out. He brought Y/Ns body close, the first time he hugged her but she wouldn't even know.

The only words that went through his mind were "Your fault"

More steps started to come and Marc looked at Layla, "Go! I'll hold them off"

Layla took one last look at Y/Ns body and ran to hide. Marc stood up and grabbed the golden axe from the tomb.

"Come on!" He stood in a stance as he waited.

A large group of men came out with Harrow.

"I remember the first morning that I woke up, knowing Khonshu was gone" Harrow looks up at him.

Marc looks at him with anger and hatred in his eyes, "Im going to kill you"

Harrow tilts his head and then looks at the lifeless body of Y/N, "I apologize that I killed your friend but she wasn't letting reason talk to her. Now don't make that same wrong choice"

Marc huffed, "...Okay"

One of the men slowly walked up to Marc trying to get the ushabti. However, Marc grabbed the gun and used the axe to chop the hand of the man. As he was going to continue to fight the other one who charged at him, Harrow brought his gun up and shot Marc three times.

Marc fell down, into the pool of water that surrounded the sarcophagus. Layla stared in shock, trying to cover her scream. Not only did she lose one friend but now her husband.

Harrow continued to stare down to make sure he was dead, "I can't help those who don't want to be helped"

Harrow then walked away with his men following.

Once gone, Layla came out of the shadows and pulled Marc out of the water and dragged him with Y/N.

She looked at the two and broke down crying. She placed both hands on the bodies and cried.

She was truly alone now.

------

Let's ignore my almost 30 days of no update lmao

My bad thought but for real college is fucking me in the ass with the amount of work. As I type this, I have a research paper waiting for me.

Also, I hope I didn't make yall cry/sad

Also if shit dont make sense, its cuz I had writers block cockblocking me and I was trying to get to the knitty gritty. Anyways enjoy :)

Tags:

@itsjusspele @dustyinkpages

Feel free to ask me to add you in the taglist :)

[tennessoui]

If you're up up to it, how about obikin and 42?

yes!!! Prompt 42 is Star-Crossed Lovers, but star-crossed lovers are soooooo out now. 'Crossed the stars to be lovers' is IN, baby!!

(2.7k)

Someone has left a letter on his bunk. Obi-Wan as a rule doesn’t get letters. Actually, as a rule, Obi-Wan has never wanted to receive a letter in his entire life. They all have datapads for a reason, and it’s because they’ve evolved past the need for flimsi and ink when there are means at their disposal to deliver messages near instantly.

So no, Obi-Wan has never wanted to see a letter sitting on his bunk. He finds the whole thing rather trying, actually, the Flimsi Friends program the Jedi Order established fifty standard years ago in an attempt to connect their Jedi with others across the branches through letters. Obi-Wan had scorned the idea as an Initiate living comfortably in the Temple on Coruscant, and his opinion hadn’t really changed once he began his tenure at the AgriCorps.

Kabre notices before anyone else. “Oh, hey! Obi-Wan’s got a letter.”

“Finally,” Aldran grins, craning his neck from where he’s collapsed on his bunk. “We only signed you up months ago.”

“Really, you shouldn’t have,” Obi-Wan says. “Really.”

“Oh, come now, little Obi,” Kabre pats him on the head. Obi-Wan is twenty-five and of a perfectly average height, but Kabre is close to three heads taller than him and of an indeterminable age. “Think of it as an opportunity to strengthen your connection to the living Force.”

“Through the Flimsi Friends program,” Obi-Wan deadpans, raising an eyebrow up at his peer.

“Getting letters from Susa is the highlight of my week,” Aldran tells the ceiling dreamily.

Obi-Wan shares a commiserating eyeroll with Kabre. “That’s because you’re in love with her.”

“Who wouldn’t be? She’s so sweet and kind and pretty and she has all these stories from her adventures in the ExploraCorps--”

“Alright, who got him talking about Susa?” Lathrum asks from the door, sighing in exasperation as he makes his way over to his own bunk. “It’ll be a standard day before he’s done.”

“Hey!” Aldran gasps, offended and already close to sulking. “Whatever. Fine. Everyone’s just jealous that Susa and I are in love because y’all are never going to find something nearly as good as we have.”

“Obi-Wan finally got a letter from the program,” Kabre announces to Lathrum. “We were just saying that he should at least try to be excited.”

“Yes, perhaps you’ll meet your own Susa,” Lathrum smirks, peeling off his dirt-covered tunic. His next words come out muffled. “Force help us if that happens.”

“No need to worry,” Obi-Wan says dryly, picking up the letter and studying it. “They appear to be a youngling.”

“A youngling wrote you?” Kabre asks, barely restrained glee in his deep baritone.

Aldran guffaws from his bunk. “Well now you have to write back!”

“Knowing your luck, it’s probably a youngling from the Jedi Temple,” Lathrum says. “Dear Obi-Wan, Today someone chose me to be their Padawan and I’m one step closer to being a Jedi Knight. How are your plants doing?”

“Yes, alright,” Obi-Wan shakes his head, smiling slightly. He had met Lathrum when he was fourteen and still bitterly disappointed about his new position at the AgriCorps, and Lathrum has never let him forget it even after all these years.

He sits down on his mattress and pulls out the letter. It’s short at least. The handwriting is atrocious but the spelling is worse.

Dear Obi-Wan,

Hi! My name is Anakin Skywalker. I am nine years old. How are you doing today? My master says I have to write this to practice my spelling. I think not everyone can learn Basic, but he says I have to and that all Jedi masters know how. I didn’t ever know there was all this stuff I have to do to be a Jedi. I’ve been here for weeks now and I still don’t have my lightsaber!

I think the temple is really weird. It’s so big and cold. I miss my friends back home. Me and Kitster would go crazy exploring this place but no one here wants to play with me. Master Jinn says not to worry and I’m not! The temple is just really big and I’m cold all the time and I miss my mom. Master Jinn found me on Tatooine and took me here to make me a Jedi which is great, but everyone here already knows each other and I don’t think they like me much. I know the Jedi Council doesn’t. They didn’t even want to train me but Master Jinn inzi--incis--said he would.

Do you want to be friends?

Would you explore the temple with me?

Write back soon please,

Anakin

“Well?” Kabre asks, when Obi-Wan finishes silently reading the letter.

Obi-Wan sighs and rubs a hand over the jagged penmanship. It’s all too obvious that this Anakin Skywalker is...painfully young, churlish and childish and achingly lonely.

Obi-Wan sighs again, harder, as he looks up at his bunkmates. “Where do we keep the blasted flimsi?”

---

Dear Anakin,

Thank you for your letter, it was very nice to read. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I’m 25 years old. I hope you are settling in at the Temple better by the time this letter finds you. I have to admit I was very surprised to hear that you are nine years old and have been allowed to train to be a Jedi. That’s unheard of. I’m sure you’ll be an excellent Jedi. There must have been a reason your master chose you. The Force wills it and it will be.

It is understandable to miss your mother and your old home. When I became a member of the AgriCorps, I spent the first few months missing the Jedi temple on Coruscant a lot. It was the only home I ever had. But we make others as we go. The Temple is big and I suppose very cold compared to a desert planet--I looked up Tatooine here and there wasn’t much information, but I could never live somewhere with two suns! I’d be burned to a crisp in a matter of hours.

The upside to the Temple being big is that there are a lot of hiding spots and footholds for climbing. Try the pillars in the entrance hall. They connect to each other. My friends and I would run around on top of them for hours, although I think that was mostly because we were too scared to get down. You should ask Knight Eerin about it, or Knight Vos. They’re usually in the Mess Hall if not the Halls of Healing.

I’m sure Master Jinn has you busy with meditation and classes, but I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Best,

Obi-Wan Kenobi

---

Dear Obi-Wan,

I was really excited to get your letter! I didn’t know it would take so long but it’s been ages! So much stuff has happened. I finally finished my remedial classes and Master says we can focus more time of katas now! I can’t wait to learn how to fight! And Master Windu smiled at me the other day when he saw me in the hall because Master told him about my grades!

I asked Knight Eerin about you and she showed me some pictures she had on her datapad of you when you lived at the Temple. You look really pretty cool! I have blond hair and blue eyes if you were wondering. My mom always said she thought I was going to be really tall. What do you look like now? What do you do at the AgriCorps? Why did you leave the Temple? Knight Eerin says you need to give her a comm call soon. She didn’t sound very happy.

I made a friend! Knight Vos’ padawan was there when I talked to him about what you told me, and she came with me to go exploring! She’s so cool. She’s been helping me with my katas too.

Apparently I won’t get my lightsaber for years! That’s so long!

Anyway I have to go and do my reading now but please write back faster this time, Obi-Wan!

--Ani

----

Obi-Wan never reacts quite as happily and dramatically as Aldrin does when he sees a letter from Anakin on his bunk in the evenings, but over the years everyone learns not to disturb Obi-Wan on those nights.

The first letter Obi-Wan receives from Anakin after the boy turns eighteen includes his commlink frequency hastily crammed at the bottom of the page. If you want, Anakin has scribbled.

“Finally,” Obi-Wan jokes when the line connects and Anakin answers breathlessly. “No offense to you, dear one, and you have come quite a ways since you were a youngling, but your handwriting is still atrocious. I’d much rather talk to you like this than try to puzzle out what you’ve written.”

Anakin splutters and then stutters out in a voice slower and deeper than Obi-Wan had expected, “I didn’t know you had an accent, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan finds that he likes that voice saying his name in that way.

That’s the first sign of trouble.

----

Anakin sends a photo of his knighting ceremony. Obi-Wan wants to cry with pride. His friends tease him about it relentlessly. “You look like I did the day I married Susa,” Aldrin crows and takes a picture of Obi-Wan’s blushing, laughing face. Later, Obi-Wan reluctantly sends it to Anakin.

“I’m jealous of your friends,” Anakin confesses with an exhale of static. “They get to see you everyday.”

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, unable to say more. Unable to admit that he’s thought the same thing about Anakin’s master at the Temple. Unable to deny it though.

They move onto safer topics, ones that make Obi-Wan’s chest feel less tight.

----

“Jedi Knights are forbidden to have romantic attachments,” Kabre tells him apropos of nothing one late evening when they’re leaning against the railings of their cabin.

Obi-Wan doesn’t even try to pretend to not know what his friend is talking about. Anakin is twenty-three now. They call each other as often as possible, whenever they have enough free time. Thinking about Anakin, somewhere out in the galaxy, makes Obi-Wan feel dangerous things. Dangerous, insidious, illogical things.

“Yes,” he agrees.

“Everything you’ve ever told me about this boy makes me think he’s in love with you,” Kabre says. “And the way you tell it makes me think you’re in love with him too.”

“Kabre, I…”

“I’m not asking you to deny it to me, Obi-Wan. You don’t need to defend yourself. You know no one cares if you’ve gone and fallen in love with your flimsi friend. It happens. And Force knows there’s no way you could be more insufferable than Aldrin and Susa.”

“He’s a Jedi Knight, Kabre,” Obi-Wan looks away, off over the fields. “I know what that means.”

----

When Anakin is twenty-four, Obi-Wan walks into his room to see a letter on his pillow. He blinks in surprise. He hasn’t gotten a letter since they petered out in favor of comm calls with Anakin.

But he’d recognize that handwriting anywhere.

He sits down to read it.

Dear Obi-Wan,

I find myself growing weary of Knighthood. I love my Padawan, I love the missions, I love the fighting. But I love something else more. I have for almost as long as I can remember.

I’ve been looking through the old letters from you. I’ve kept them all. I know Jedi should not have material attachments, but I found that I could no more throw them away than give my lightsaber to a Sith. They make up our story.

You were the first friend I ever had at the Temple. I don’t quite think you realized that then, and you may not even realize it now. But you were. I would get a letter from you and feel warm for weeks afterwards.

Actually, everything I love about the Temple and the Jedi you gave to me. My friends now, indirectly. All the hiding spots. Moving meditation.

When I got my kyber crystal, I wanted to tell you before anyone else. When my Padawan braid was cut, I gave it to my master, but wished I had something I could give to you too.

That was the day I really admitted to myself that you already have all of me.

Obi-Wan, I’m in love with you. I love you more every time we talk. Disengaging the comms at the end of the night hurts like losing my hand all over again. I love you, I love you.

And I have been a coward about it for too many years. I was afraid that you would reject me, think me too rash and young and foolish. But I know what I want. You told me in one of your letters that you believed I lived off of a single-minded desire to achieve my goals and that I would let nothing stand in the way.

I do not plan on starting now, if you will have me that is. I dream of nothing more than to feel your hands on my face, to listen to the sound of your heart beating in your chest.

I will not disrespect the ways of the Jedi by loving you quietly, when I know you are my deepest, strongest attachment. One that I will not shake, even if I lived to be as old as Master Yoda himself.

If you find that you feel the same way, I will leave the Jedi Order tomorrow and meet you on Bandomeer. If you do not, then I understand and will never speak of this again. I am something of an expert after all these years of loving you silently from afar.

Yours sincerely, yours always, yours completely,

Anakin

Obi-Wan traces the words with a shaking hand. He doesn’t know he’s crying until a tear falls onto the flimsi. Oh, Anakin. Oh, his brave, foolish Anakin.

Will he really be so selfish as to allow Anakin to leave his Knighthood for him? His padawan, his home?

But the knowledge that Anakin loves him is a heady, addictive feeling. Obi-Wan has never truly gotten the things he wants. He loves his life now, of course. But he hadn’t wanted it.

And he loves Anakin.

He loves him terribly.

He reaches for a piece of flimsi and a pen.

----

Anakin will be the first to admit he’s been in a foul mood for a few standard weeks now. He’d sent that letter to Obi-Wan--Force, why had he sent that letter to Obi-Wan, obviously the man will never want to talk to him again now--and then immediately Ahsoka and him had been called in for a mission.

It had been awful and disgusting. Anakin is covered in mud from head to toe, and his padawan doesn’t look any better. And worst of all, he had had no time at all to comm Obi-Wan. No time at all to see how the man had taken his confession. It feels like he’s been holding his breath for days.

But he’s at the Temple now. He can clean himself off and call Obi-Wan incessantly until the man answers. Anakin can’t keep living like this.

“Letter for you, Master,” Ahsoka says as he enters their quarters. She’d been sent ahead while Anakin had finished docking the ship, and now she’s sitting at the table perfectly clean.

Anakin thinks his heart stops at these words and then it starts beating as fast as it ever has before. “Where?”

“I put it on your bed,” Ahsoka peers up at him with a furrowed brow. “Are you okay, Skyguy? You look a bit--”

But Anakin’s gone, already tearing into his room. There on the bedspread is a letter. Obi-Wan’s written him a letter.

Anakin has to try opening it three times before he finally gets his fingers to cooperate. It’s very short.

Dearest One, Obi-Wan has written.

I’ll meet you here tomorrow on Bandomeer. I will be waiting.

Forever yours,

Obi-Wan

Anakin smiles and feels like he could cry or sing or dance or scream from all the joy that’s welled up in his chest at this small handful of words Obi-Wan has given him. They’re everything and more.

Mindful of the mud on his person, he puts the letter gently on his bed and walks back out to the common area. Ahsoka is right where he left her.

“Okay, now you just look scary,” she says, pointing a fork at him. “Stop smiling like that.”

Anakin lets his grin die. He won’t relish this next part, but it’s for Obi-Wan. It’s so he can be with Obi-Wan. It's necessary. “Snips,” he says, sitting down opposite her. “We need to talk.”

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 8)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 3k

warnings: smut (semi-public sex), possessiveness (some sexual, some not), jealousy, some fluff and some angst, also some violence (including a very small amount against the reader, proceed with caution), mentions of infidelity in a previous relationship

a/n: oh y’all thought it was gonna be smooth sailing from here on out? lol

You didn’t want to abandon Bucky to do carpetside interviews, but he refused to get anywhere near a hot mic so you let him go while you walked over to a reporter you recognized; she’d been nice before, probably would be again this time, so you were a little relieved to see her tonight.

She introduced you to the camera and you were slightly spaced out until she turned to you and got your attention again.  “So, you’ve been making a lot of headlines lately for your new relationship— what’s the scoop?  How’s it going?” she asked playfully, pushing the microphone into your face.

“Uh, great,” you breamed, “he’s my date tonight and he seems to have disappeared to…” you turned around to look for him.  “Oh, he’s talking to... is that... Laurence Fishburne?”

“James, is that his name?” she prompted, making you focus your attention back on the interview.

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, the name sounding a bit foreign, “legally, but he goes mostly by his nickname Bucky.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” she smiled.  “He’s, uh…” her eyes widened a bit and you laughed.

“Yeah, he is,” you smirked.  “I assume by that facial expression you mean ‘crazy hot.’”

“I mean, in the politest way possible… yeah,” she giggled.

“Yeah, no, don’t pretend not to notice for my sake, cause, yeah, it’s… apparent.”

“Apparently he was your driver first?” she pressed.

“Yes!” you beamed, and then heard the way it sounded and backpedaled slightly.  “I promise that’s not why I hired him.  I actually didn’t meet him before he was on my team, but, I mean, I wasn’t mad to have some eye candy in the front seat.”

“Eye candy, huh?”

“But he’s so much more than that, that’s the thing,” you explained.  “We became good friends first, because he’s so smart and funny and kind and… I mean, I know he looks tough, and he is, but he’s really very sensitive underneath the slightly intimidating exterior.”

“Hard shell, soft center, sweet— he really does sound like candy!”

“Indeed,” you nodded.  “Gotta run but it was nice to chat!”

You dashed over to Bucky and clung onto his arm.  “Oh, hey, we were just talking about you,” he beamed.

“Loved you in After Midnight,” Mr. Fishburne smiled and even you were totally starstruck.

“Oh, wow, thanks, I loved you in… everything…” you trailed off, internally scolding yourself for the vague and useless compliment.  He was about to respond but was pulled away by some member of his team, giving you and Bucky a quick wave as he began a carpet-side interview.

“That was Laurence Fishburne, wasn’t it.” Bucky mumbled to you in a stunned monotone.  

“Yes, what were you doing talking to him?” you asked, amazed at his bravery to approach such a huge star.

“He came up to me, to congratulate me on… on dating you, I guess…”

“Or he mixed you up with Brad Pitt,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, if Brad Pitt lost all his money, spent a decade in the desert, went loco and buzzed all his hair off,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, you look great,” you soothed him, straightening his tie.  “Wanna go take some pictures?”

“I’m a little scared,” he admitted with a shy smile.

“It’s easy, just give them that sexy brooding look you do so well.”

Bucky smirked pridefully.  “You think so?”

“Totally.  You’re a natural,” you assured.

You tugged his arm and guided him to the carpet, letting him lead the way (or look like he was leading the way) as you found a clear spot and noticed how the cameras instantly flashed faster and brighter.  Photographers called your name to get your attention, and you waved and smiled and pulled Bucky closer.  The feeling of his arm around your waist was warm and comforting, and you hoped holding you had the same effect for him.

“Where are you looking?” you asked.

“At you,” he answered.

“Bucky,” you giggled, “you’re supposed to look at the cameras!”

“I honestly can’t, it’s blinding,” he frowned.

“Here,” you sighed, pointing out into the darkness just above the sea of flashing lights.  “Look out there.”

“I can’t see anything!”

“I know, but, look as if there was something there to look at, trust me, it helps.”

You adjusted slightly a few times, turning a little to show off the low back of your dress.  You almost gasped when Bucky held your face and kissed you suddenly, but you were happy to melt into it even as you heard the cameras flash even more aggressively, some whoops and hollers coming from the crowd on and off the carpet.

He pulled back and you wanted to chase him for more but you realized it wasn’t the right time.  

“Let’s go inside,” you offered, guiding him the rest of the way down the carpet— mainly because you were afraid you’d end up jumping his bones right here in front of everyone.

He nodded and followed close by, arm resting on your shoulder the whole time, and just as you saw one of your friends and thought you might want to go over and introduce her to Bucky, you saw who she was talking to.

Sam.  

Seeing him always made your heart stop.  At first, it was because you were starstruck by him, in awe of his talent, amazed that you were going to be working with someone you admired so much.  Then it was because you had fallen for him and he had gladly swept you off your feet, bringing you into a whirlwind romance that at the time had felt like the only thing that mattered.  But since the break-up, and now, it was something else.  Fear wasn’t the word, it’s not like you were afraid of him in a literal sense, but there was this anxiety, this tenseness to seeing him.  It always brought back memories— the best and the worst, all at once.  Nights laughing together, sharing secrets, stealing glances and touches and kisses; nights spent alone staring at a phone that never rang.  Limbs tangled together between the sheets, that warm brown skin encompassing and surrounding yours; laying side by side in a bed that isn’t empty but is still plenty cold, seeing the way he angles his phone away from you and wishing you had the strength to just leave because you already knew what he was doing.  The first time you said ‘I love you.’  The first time he said ‘it won’t happen again.’

“You alright?” Bucky asked, tearing you from your thoughts.  You looked away and met Bucky’s gaze, hoping he either hadn’t seen your ex or at least hadn’t recognized him.  

“Yeah, I’m great,” you answered quickly, “let’s go get some drinks maybe?  And then I need to show you off to some people.”

“Show me off?” he scoffed.

“Yeah, why did you think I brought you here, really?” you winked.

“Hey, if we’re showing each other off, does that mean you’ll come to my next high school reunion?”

//

You’d been antsy ever since the two of you had come inside; it was obvious from the way you were clinging so much closer to him, and yet it was clear that your mind was a million miles away.

“Hey, it’s starting to wrap up, wanna head out soon?” you asked, trying to act casual, but he saw the way your eyes were darting up to where Sam Wilson was mingling and he knew it wasn’t about getting home early.  Did you really think he wouldn’t notice that you’d seen him?

“Whatever you wanna do,” he shrugged.

“Okay, could you bring the car around for me then?  And I’ll meet you outside?” you offered.  “I should say hi and bye to a few people.”

“Sure,” he agreed, starting to walk away after giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

And he really did try to do what he said he was going to, but the further away he walked, the more he glanced back to watch you walk across the room, the harder it was to just let it go.  He knew you were going to talk to him, and before he really even decided to do anything about it he found himself circling back around the room, following you.  

He thought he’d lost you when he turned a corner and you were gone, but then he heard voices from a doorway and cracked it open slightly to see you inside with a few other people, nobody he recognized although one of them he’d definitely seen in something before.

He sighed with relief, about to turn and go get the car like he said he would, but then Sam Wilson just had to magically materialize out of thin air as he stepped up behind you and tapped your shoulder.

“Sam!” you blurted out, spinning to face him with wide eyes.

“Hey,” he greeted, acting all suave and shit, making Bucky’s blood boil.  “You look great.”

“Oh, thanks,” you mumbled, “you too.”

“You’ve been all over the internet lately, making quite the splash,” he recalled with a contemplative nod.  “You and this new boytoy you’ve got.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is boyfriend,” you corrected sternly.  

“Honey,” he scoffed as he rolled his eyes.  Bucky couldn’t decide if it was worse to hear him call you a pet name in earnest or with the derogatory tone that he currently had.  “Everybody knows you go through these guys like potato chips.  Especially when they’re not famous— how many PAs did you hook up with on your last set, huh?”

“I don’t roll like that anymore,” you denied.

“That’s not what Jake Friedman says,” Sam smirked.  It actually took Bucky a moment to remember that that was the guy you’d… entertained in the backseat of your car, or maybe it was more that he had entertained you; you seemed to tense up when Sam mentioned him, as did Bucky.  “I mean, sure, he’s not crew, but he’s not famous the way you are.  The way we are.  And neither is your new guy.  He doesn’t ‘get it’, does he?  He doesn’t get what it’s like.  Has he already started freaking out about all the hate online?”

Bucky regretted that he’d ever said anything about that; if he’d known it would come around to prove Sam Wilson right about something, he wouldn’t have done it.  “No,” you lied.

“Well, he will,” Sam assured you, stepping a little closer to you and letting his fingers languidly brush over your arm.  “I made a mistake before, letting you go.”

“Damn right,” you hissed as you pulled away from him.

“But I realized that, and now I’m wondering why we aren’t giving the people what they want.”

“That’s what I never understood about you,” you frowned.  “It’s always about other people with you.  It’s never about you, and it was never about me.”

“But it is about you,” he explained, “and me: us.  You’re forgetting how good we were together.”

You shook your head.  “I was single for years and you never called.  Now you’re all over me with all these regrets about ending it?  Get a grip, Sam.  This is about you wanting what you can’t have.”

“Can’t have?” he repeated incredulously.  “Baby,” he purred— and Bucky decided it was definitely worse to hear him call you that in earnest.  “You know you’re always gonna be mine.”

As you started to shiver, Sam’s arms slipping around your back and grabbing your waist, Bucky felt like he had lost control of his body.  He was watching himself from far away as he stormed across the room, nearly knocking a few people over on the way, and shoved Sam off of you and onto the ground.

“Bucky!” you yelped.  “Bucky, stop!”

“You’d better watch your hands, Wilson, before they get somewhere they’re not supposed to be,” Bucky growled, ignoring you completely even as you helplessly tugged at his suit.  

“Jesus,” Sam spat, “the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What are you doing?” you asked Bucky, irate and confused as you stared up at him with a furrowed brow.  He grabbed your hand and guided you out of the room and down the hall, barely managing to drag you into a random bathroom before he started tearing at your dress, leaving rough bites and kisses down your neck as you gasped and moaned softly.  

“Mine,” he mumbled against your skin, “all mine.  Did you forget?”

“No,” you sighed, “I could never…”

“That’s not what it looked like,” he sneered, hiking up your long skirt to run his fingers over your skin and expose the delicate, lacy panties you were wearing. 

“Bucky, please,” you sighed, rubbing your hips up against his leg, riding his thigh shamelessly.

“What’s got you so worked up, baby?  Is it me, or him?” he asked darkly.

“You, baby, just you, nobody else— I’m yours,” you assured him feverishly, “I’m all yours, please, I need you.”

“Yeah?” he breathed, fumbling with his belt and fly as he pulled his growing cock from his suit pants.  “You need it that bad?”

“Please,” you sobbed, “fuck me.”

He pulled your underwear aside and quickly shoved into you, groaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to welcome him.  “Fuck, angel, so tight,” he sighed, knowing how much little praises drove you crazy.

“Bucky,” you sighed, “oh my god… harder, please— n-need you deeper…”

His hips moved back only to slam back against yours, making you whimper; he smiled when he felt your leg wrap around his waist and try to hold him inside, but he couldn’t slow down now, not when he needed this so bad.

He sucked on your neck as he kept thrusting into you, your wetness coating his cock so thoroughly that he slid right home every time.  It was clear that he was hitting your g-spot from how you moaned with each thrust, your spongy channel pulsing and tightening in rhythmic patterns.

Overcome with the need to assert his, for lack of a better word, ownership over you, he found himself reaching up to hold your throat— not quite in the way to choke you, just to remind you that he could, if he wanted to.

“Did he ever make you come like this?” he asked with a gravelly whisper, lips right against your ear as he tightened his hand around your neck slightly.

“No,” you shook your head, “nobody has.”

“Nobody’s ever loved you this good but me, is that it?  Nobody else has ever fucked you like this?”

“Just you, Bucky, please don’t stop— I’m so close…”

“Do you think they can hear you out in the hallway?  Say my name when you come, princess, just in case they can— I want them to know who’s making you feel this good.”

“Bucky,” you whined, chanting it over and over with a few ‘yes’s and ‘fuck’s interspersed occasionally.  He thrusted faster and harder as he felt his own orgasm building; he needed to come inside you and claim you again, mark you as his one more time, and the flexing of your walls was only egging him on.

“I know you’re close, baby, just let go,” he whispered against your ear, “come for me, just like that, you’re doing so good— fuck, so good for me…”

You whimpered and clutched at his shoulders, a gush of wetness and a final, strong tightening of your inner muscles signaling that you’d reached your peak.  He couldn’t hold back any longer when he saw (and felt) that, groaning as he began to release thick streams of come into you.

The absolute second your afterglow began to fade, you pushed him off of you and grimaced as you adjusted your panties and dress.  "The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Wh— what?" he stammered, breathless and confused.  "What did I do?  Was I not supposed to come inside?"

You gaped at him in shock.  "Do you really not realize what you did?  Bucky, you assaulted my ex-boyfriend."

"I— he'll be fine," he dismissed, "he was putting his hands on you, what was I supposed to do, just let him do it?"

"You were supposed to let me handle it," you hissed.  "You were supposed to be pulling the car around and not spying on me!"

"Spying?!  I was protecting you."

"You shoved him hard enough to knock him over, Bucky, that's not okay."

"Hold on," he shook his head in disbelief, "so you're mad at me, when we just had sex?!  Why didn't you say something before?"

"Just cause it's hot doesn't mean it's okay," you explained, a little embarrassed.

"Tell me something," he frowned, "what is this—" he motioned to the space between the two of you— "to you?  Cause it kinda seems like I think we're boyfriend and girlfriend, and you think—"

"What?  What do I think?" you challenged.  "Go ahead, tell me."

"You think it's just a sex thing."

"Oh my god," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, what am I supposed to think when you get off on me dealing with your ex, and then tell me it's this big terrible thing?"

A sick idea clawed its way out of the back of Bucky's mind: was Sam right about her?  Was Sam right about us?

You crossed your arms and huffed, but didn't respond.

"Was everything that just happened just a fuckin' kink for you or something?  Cause I meant every goddamn word," he growled.

You sighed, like you weren't taking it seriously— like you weren't taking him seriously.  His fist tightened at his side involuntarily.  He'd never felt so used, so ignored; or, at least, he never expected it from you.  "We'll talk about this later," you dismissed quickly.  "Let's just go back there and put on a happy face, okay?"

"Oh, so you can let another guy feel you up?  Sounds like a fucking blast," he hissed.

"Fuck you," you snarled as you pushed him aside to leave the bathroom.

He didn't remember grabbing you, he didn't remember twisting your arm as he pulled you back.  He didn't remember you crying out, trying to wrench yourself away, clawing at his grip on you.  All he remembered was you looking up at him with watery eyes, expression twisted in fear.

"Bucky, you're hurting me," you whimpered weakly, and only then did he notice his metal hand was holding your wrist.  When he let go, he already saw a mark forming in the shape of his hand as you grabbed your freed wrist to rub the damaged flesh.

"I'm sorry—" he began to whisper, but you were already gone.

[forever-rogue]

Stutter Something Profound

A/N: Y’all wanted part 2, so you get part 2 with some sub!Din! It did get a little soft, I might add, but enjoy! Happy Valentine’s Day from me to you! As always, comments and feedback are welcomed! xx

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only) -  oral (m and f receiving, unprotected sex, etc...)

DOUSE THE LIGHTS (PART 1)

THE MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Quiet down,” Din’s voice was sharp and biting as your brow furrowed and you turned to him with a look of confusion marring your features.

“I didn’t say a word,” you huffed in response as you turned your attention back to the little bean sitting across the cold, metallic floor from you. His favorite little ball was in his tiny hands as the two of you rolled it back and forth to each other. You’d been stuck in hyperspace for some time, and there really wasn’t much else to do. It was like the Mandalorian - Din,  you reminded yourself - refused to have even a modicum of fun. He’d been even more quiet and stoic than normal recently. 

Ever since - 

“Yes, you did,” he turned his head sharply, surely almost breaking his neck as he turned to look at the two of you from the captain’s seat. You quirked a brow in question before gesturing between yourself and the small child. He huffed sharply through his nose, the sound a loud, bitter thing as it reverberated off the walls, “keep it down.”

“That’s what I thought we were doing,” you snapped back before rolling your eyes and turning back to your small compatriot. He cooed gently before smiling and taking the ball as you rolled it back to him. You couldn’t help but smile at the little one; he always had the best and most calming aura about him. Before you could stop yourself, under your breath you murmured, “maybe you just need to calm down a little.”

"Excuse me?" oh. You just knew there was a scowl on his face, those plush lips pulled in a frown. Maker, those lips, delicious and soft, has been all over your body, mapping and marking almost every single inch of skin. You'd been thinking about them ever since that night - his touch, his taste, his feel. All of it.

Nothing had been the same since. 

And yet nothing had changed.

"You heard me, Din," it was the first time you'd used his name since that night. It was a challenge as much as a question. It was silent, almost dead silent, as he slowly rose to his full height. He presented an impressive sight, covered in gleaming beskar, as his chest rose and fell steadily. Slowly, ever so slowly, he stepped closer, each footfall loud and purposeful. Shit, shit, shit. You’d fucked up and this was it. You were always pushing and pushing and pushing, and you’d finally pushed enough. Maybe he’d reached his limit. 

He came over to you and slowly crouched down, predatory in every way, reaching over and taking your chin in his gloved hand as you turned your face up to meet his own. You were left breathless as you stared back into the black T of his visor, wishing you could see the expression in his eyes, “are you telling me what to do?”

Part of you wanted to remain small and shrink away, but another part of you, this one was feeling particularly strong in the moment and there was no holding it down, “yes.”

“Uh huh honey,” he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip causing you to part them slightly, “you sure about that?”

“Y-yes,” your head was already spinning with all sorts of thoughts and fantasies. He dipped his finger slightly into your mouth and you had to resist the urge to suck on it.  But then you remembered - you remembered what you had told him last time. As you laid in his arms and made a promise that you planned on making good on, “yes. I am, Din.”

“Hmmm,” it was a soft gentle growl as he released your chin and stepped back, standing up again. Your heart was fluttering wildly as he walked towards the ladder, to head down, “we’ll be on Sorgan soon. Keep him with you.”

You waited until he was gone and thoroughly disappeared before hanging your head and sighing shakily. Before you could get too caught up in your head, a small bit of laughter and gentle cooing captured your attention. You looked up and found your little friend grinning at you, his little teeth on display as he made grabby hands for the small metal ball. 

“Of course, my sweet bean,” you smiled fondly at him, giving him what he wanted, “anything for you. At least one of my boys isn’t being a Mr. Grumpy Boots!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“This is Sorgan?” you asked softly as you held the little one in your arms, already falling behind Din as made it a point to stop and study your surroundings. It was a beautiful place, lush and green and teaming with the sounds of all sorts of animals in the distance. He made a small noncommittal sound without so much as looking back at you. You rolled your eyes at him before sticking out your tongue and blowing a quiet raspberry, causing the little one to giggle. It appeared that he still wasn’t over being grumpy, and you were sure that he was still sour over your little outburst. 

You remained quiet as you followed after him, deciding that it was best not to push his buttons. Although you weren’t so concerned with the possibility of what he would do. You knew that he wasn’t going to abandon you in some remote part of the galaxy as you once had feared; no, perhaps he’d even give you another...punishment like he had previously.

But you weren’t sure he ever would mention again. You’d wanted to bring it up, desperately so, but you just...didn’t quite know how. The morning after you’d woken up a few times only to find yourself still wrapped up in his arms, resting your head on his chest as he snored lightly. When you’d gone to get up for the day at hand, he was long gone, already dressed and going about business as usual.

You'd tried not to be upset, not to let it get it to you...but kriff. It was a one time deal but Maker, you wished it weren't. But who were you to question and interrogate him on the matter? Besides the words that needed to be exchanged, or your little altercation earlier, he'd avoided you like the plague. It was even worse than being stranded in the most desolate desert in the outer rim.

"Keep up," he called over your shoulder as you realized you'd been caught up on your myriad of daydreams and fallen far behind. You huffed as you picked up the pace to keep up with his long strides, "we're almost there."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Almost there ended up being another half hour of trekking through the woods until you reached the small village that served as your destination. Part of you had been tempted to complain, but the other half was thrilled to be able to get out and stretch your legs and see something other than metallic walls or dirt and decay. The air was fresh and light, doing wonders for your spirit and lungs. The little one seemed to be enjoying everything as much as you were - his eyes were wide and curious and as he studied the new surroundings. At the sight of a few butterflies, he reached out to try and capture one, almost tumbling out of your arms at one point. Giggling, you slowed your pace and set him on the forest floor, letting him follow behind the two of you all while keeping a close eye on him.

Eventually, the sounds of life - children’s laughter, animals, and animated chatter met your ears and you found yourself in a picturesque, small village. You look at everything in awe as your green bean toddled over to the nearest group of children. Instinct took over and you moved over to grab him, but Din grabbed your arm and shook his head, as you frowned at him, “he’s fine. He knows them.”

“Okay,” you nodded, but nonetheless your guard was up. You were more protective over Din and the little one than anything else. If something happened to either one of them you didn’t know what you’d do. Din must have sensed your hesitation as he lightly put his hand on your arm and pulled you along with him. Nodding, you silently acquiesced to his request.

It was another short walk to the center of the town, where you spied a small group of people milling about, almost as if they were expecting them. Din gave them a nod, but kept you close at his side. 

“Mandalorian,” a beautiful woman with long hair walked over to the two of you as Din held his hand out to her but you stepped slightly behind him. She had a kind face and eyes, and you could tell she meant no ill will, "you've returned."

"As I said I would," he insisted as he shook her hand. Turning her attention to you, she looked you up and down, observing you with intense scrutiny, and yet you did not feel afraid. Whatever had happened between the two of them, you could tell she was looking out for him.

Holding out your own hand, you steeled yourself as you offered it to her and gave a kind smile accompanied by your name. 

"Omera," she had deemed you worthy of her name and seemingly her approval, "you're…"

"She's mine," he insisted sharply, causing both you and Omera to look at him in surprise. Inside, you were beaming and bursting with joy and pride at the surprising revelation. You weren't sure if it was purely situational or he had meant it as more - as what it was, but Maker - your face felt hot and knees weak. 

"She's your…"

"Mine," he repeated simply with a curt nod and an air of finality. His hand found the small of your back as you raised your eyebrows at the woman in shock, practically glowing from inside.

"Very well Mandalorian," the woman turned on her heel and motioned for the two of you to follow, "we're pleased to see you and the little one again. You may stay as long as you'd like; let me show your quarters."

Hesitating for a moment, you watched as the two of them started to walk away, leaving you behind. All of this seemed so surreal - domestic, uncomplicated, and...free. It almost felt surreal and you were afraid it would all end up being a dream. Too good to be true - a taste of what your life could be. Maybe...maybe one.

"Sweet girl," perking up at the use of the almost sacred nickname you caught his gaze. Holding out his hand to you, it wasn't but a mere moment before you took it, nervously - tentatively - and let him pull you towards his body. And then softly, almost as if it was just the two of you and not a whole gaggle of people around you, Din leaned in, "keep up."

What was even going on anymore? Surely this had to be a dream...but then again the warmth of his hand in yours was tangibly real. This was actually happening.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"This is it, huh?" looking around the small cabin, you quickly decided that you liked it. It was quaint and cozy and warm - everything that the Crest wasn't. Definitely something you would appreciate for a week or two and definitely something you would miss as soon as you left. The little one had been busy with his old friends, and Omera had graciously offered to take him for the night. As much as you both loved him, it was nice to have a little bit of time to yourselves.

"Not to your liking, princess?" his hands were on his hips as he watched you closely. It was teasing - lilting and with a small tone of amusement. Shaking your head you turned to him and offered a small smile, "you'll be comfortable here. Better than the ship and it'll give you an opportunity to stretch your legs."

"I like it," you agreed, "its nice to slow down for a change. Who knew you had a heart and a brain after all, Din?"

"Very funny, brat," the way you tingled at his use of the word was enough to render you speechless. He paused for a moment, thoughtful and quiet, "I don’t hate you, you know."

"Huh?" your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden declaration and the doe eyed look on your face enough to make his own cheeks tinge with a pink flush. Once again he was eternally thankful for the beskar helmet. He slowly reached up and grabbed your chin between his fingers as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I know I'm not always...the easiest to get along with," he all but whispered, "but I do appreciate you more than you know."

"Hmmm," your body was electric as his touch sent sparks down your spine, "I know, Din. I...fuck. I appreciate you too. I've been...thinking about you."

"Have you, naughty little thing?"

"Mhmm," you closed your eyes and keened into its touch, "ever since that night…"

"Then what do you want?" his voice was low - dangerous - as his hand tightened around your throat, squeezing ever so slightly. Your pupils were dilated, eyes practically black with lust as a small sound escaped your lips. How easy it would have been to give in and let him have his way with you, "tell me little brat. Use your words."

"You," it was almost a whimper as the heat pooled low in your belly and the delicious, tingling ache between your legs started. How easy that would be to let him use your for his (and your pleasure). Even within the thick haze of arousal, you reminded yourself of your promise.

He would be your good boy.

Almost out of nowhere, your hand was on his wrist, delicate compared to his large gloved one, and pulling him away from you. 

"What are you-"

"I'm in charge, Din Djarin," you reminded him, a surge of confidence running through your blood as desire seeped into every fiber of your beating. Your heart was beating wildly as you anticipated his reaction, treading carefully to make sure you didn't overstep any boundaries, "I made a promise last time and I don't break promises."

He chuckled - a dark, delicious sound that sparked pure fire in your bones. Instead of a smart remark for once he...acquiesced.

"Tell me what you do want."

"Strip," you echoed his words from the last time you'd found yourself in this position, "and get on your knees."

"As you wish,” he pulled back and started to slowly peel off his gloves, his gaze trained on you the entire time. You felt like a shy maiden, rather than a woman about to make a grown man cry, as a flush rose up in your neck and face; but you didn’t shift your gaze away.

Din made a show of pulling off each piece of armor, bit by Beskar bit, in painfully slow manner. The cocky Mandalorian knew exactly what he was doing. As soon as he was left in his underclothes, you could see that his cock was already painfully hard and straining at his trousers. A sense of pride welled up in your chest as you realized you were the cause of it all. Keeping the helmet on for the moment, his large hands skimmed the hem of his shirt as you almost lost your patience and tore it off for him. Languidly, methodically, he left the shirt up and tugged it over his head, letting it fall with an unceremonious small sound to the floor. 

He was beautiful - even more in the fading light of day than he had been in the dark. Tan, golden skin littered with freckles and scars came into view as your breath hitched in your throat. Maker. You bit your lip as he tilted his head to the side to gauge your reaction. Trying to play it cool, you motioned for him to continue his fingers trailed over the waistband of his pants. The dusting of dark hair that disappeared into his pants was enough to make your mouth water as you remembered the promise it held. 

Din popped open the button and slowly unzipped his pants before tugging his pants down his legs and kicked them off along with his boots. Apparently you weren’t the only one getting impatient. Making a small, musing sound in the back of your throat you walked over to him, admiring his beauty - and his hard cock that was already leaking fat beads of pre-cum. Smirking, you trailed a hand down his warm skin, raking your nails over it as you pressed a few lazy kisses along his broad shoulders. You were almost positive that you could hear a small sigh leave his lips. 

“You are beautiful, Din Djarin,” you murmured as you pressed featherlight kisses to his neck, noting that he swallowed thickly, “it’s a shame no one sees - but a privilege to have you at my mercy.”

Before letting him get a word in edgewise, you went over to the windows and made sure everything was tightly closed and curtains were drawn before turning off the bedside lamps. There was almost no light left in the small room, save for the candle near the door; just enough to get by but not enough to actually see anything. Flouncing back over to Din, his large, warm hands found purchase on your waist as you reached up and tentatively rested your hands on the side of his helmet. 

“Do you trust me, Din?” you whispered, a far cry from how domineering you intended on being. His hands circled around your wrist as he offered you a soft nod. You lifted your hands up, along with his as you pulled off the beskar and gently set it down along with the rest of his armor. 

When he was fully stripped, a sharp contrast to you being fully clothed, he immediately tried to crash his lips onto yours to kiss you; a hungry, feverish thing. You smirked against his lips before quickly pulling away and placing a finger on his lips and shaking your head, “no, no, no honey. Not yet.”

“Brat-”

“Hmmm,” your hands went to his shoulders as you pushed him down and onto his knees, “it seems to me like you’re the one not listening. Won’t you be a good boy, Din?” 

Knowing what you wanted immediately, his hands went to your waist as he undid your pants and pushed them to the ground, helping you to step out of them. You knew normally he would have argued with you or something but today something was different; almost like you had him under some sort of spell. 

“So beautiful,” he murmured as his hands ran up your thighs, stopping to paw at your bum and giving it a good squeeze, pulling a squeal of delight from your lips. He chuckled against your skin, placing kisses along your thighs and hips before working over to your mound. Running a finger through your already soaked folds, he gathered some of the your arousal before it in his mouth and sucking it clean, “like fucking candy.”

“Din,” it was a herculean task not to completely surrender control to him and have his face. He hummed in content as he nudged your legs further apart and you could feel his breath fanning against your warm, wet center. Carding a hand through his dark locks, you gently yanked his head away, “we don’t have to do this…”

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl,” he rasped as you nodded slowly, “I can handle it  - whatever you want.”

His gentle reassurance was enough to get you back on your game as you brought his face to your core, where you were getting desperate for his touch, “eat it.”

Warm hands anchored themselves to your hips as he buried his face in between your thighs, licking up your soaked folds like a starving man. It was such an unexpected, pleasant rush that you almost lost your balance as you braced yourself against the wall. A small whimper escaped your lips as Din continued to lap at you, his aquiline nose nudged against your clit. For all the talents this man had, eating pussy was definitely one of them. 

“Kriff,” it wasn’t long before your legs started to shake as the pleasure in your belly grew and grew and threatened to snap. He was not shy or soft spoken as he murmured filthy praises against your heat as he licked and suckled on your clit and folders before plunging his tongue into your velvety walls. He was quick to balance you as you almost staggered forward, “Din…”

“So good,” he praised as he reached up and added two thick fingers to his ministrations, curling them in a come hither motion as he quickly found your sweet - the one that made you see absolute stars. Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt nothing but warmth radiate throughout your body and pressed his face firmly against you. You felt the vibrations of his chuckle as he continued on, just a little further and harder until you were over the edge. A large hand had snaked up your body to cup and squeeze your breasts through your shirt as you keened into him.

This time you didn’t even bother to hold back your mewls and moan as you came all over his tongue and fingers. Making a sound of approval, he worked you through your orgasm until you were a shaking, whining mess above him. His name came off your tongue in reverence as he stabilized you and lapped up every last bit of your arousal. 

“Maker,” you finally managed to catch your breath after a few minutes as you pulled out of his grasp and helped him to his feet. In the soft candlelight you could see your juices glistening on his face. Unable to stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck and crashed your lips onto his, kissing him in a fervent tangle of tongue and teeth. He responded eagerly, taking his time to taste you and explore your mouth as your wicked hands roamed his body. Din almost choked on a moan as you grabbed his weeping cock in your hand, coating it in the reminder of your wetness. A smile grew on your face as you pulled back and looked at him innocently, “good boy, Din. It must be painful, huh? To be this hard and have no relief? Do you want me to make it better?”

“Mouth,” it was a soft whisper -  a plea, “use your mouth.”

“Hmm,” you mused as you continued to stroke his length, noting how he seemed to thrust into your hand more with each passing second, “I don’t know if you’ve earned that yet.”

A mess of sounds, guttural and visceral, met your arms as you played with him before massaging his balls just to push him as far as he could go. It wasn’t only before you felt him twitch in your hand and could hear the struggle as he tried not to come in your hand.

“Sweet girl,” he stammered out as he closed his eyes in bliss; but you beat him to the punch and pulled your hand away, creating a painstaking distance between your bodies. He hissed at the loss of contact and his orgasm as you ripped your shirt and bra off, letting the offending articles join the heap of his clothing, “fuck!”

“I told you that you hadn’t earned it yet,” you reminded him with a saccharine smile, “only good boys get to cum.”

“I am going to-”

“Get on the bed and lie on your back,” you insisted sharply. He huffed sharply before marching over and getting on top of the plush blankets. Looking around for a moment, you knew exactly what you were searching for, hoping you hadn’t misplaced the crimson silk fabric. After a few moments of digging, you made a small noise of triumph as you found the object of your affection. Walking back over with a sway of your lips, you displayed the fabric to him, “hands up and behind your head.”

“What are you doing?” it was a tone of wonder and amusement as you raised an eyebrow and hoped he was able to see it.

“You’re not allowed to use your hands,” you grinned as you stole a kiss before grabbing his wrists in your hands, “no touching, Din. Not until I say so.”

The Mandalorian  - your Mandalorian - grunted as you threaded the fabric through the headboard and secured his wrists. It wasn’t necessarily a strong, tight hold, but it was enough to get your point across. No touching. Din could have easily broken through the thin fabric, but he wasn’t going to try again - he was going to be a good boy.

"What are you going to do sweet girl?" he asked as you spread your legs on either side of his hips, your wetness brushing the soft curls of his pubic hair. Grinning almost sinfully, you grabbed his jaw and turned his face towards, only making out the highs and lows of his features. Leaning down you kissed him, chasing after his lips with your own.

"Have my way with you," you whispered as you kissed the shell of his ear before working along his jaw and neck, making it a point to nip and suck at the delicate skin. And then, as you reached the hollow of his throat and placed a chaste kiss there, he practically whimpered, "oh, my sweet boy."

Din tugged lightly on the restraints, enough to shake the headboard slightly, but not enough to do anything. Shimmying down his body you tenderly touched and kissed every part of his body making sure each little freckle and mark and scar were given attention. The man practically melted under your touch; no one had ever given him this type of love and attention before. In the past it had all been either sloppy blowjobs or quick fucks; it had never mattered about him or the other person before, the only end game was release. But this...this was different. Delicate, gentle - caring.

Kissing along the V of his abdomen before nosing along his soft pubic hair, your raked your nails up and down his legs.

"When's the last time someone loved you, Din Djarin?" it was a hushed whisper, one you really expected an answer to you, but Din had almost inhumanly adept hearing - perks of a lifetime as a bounty hunter.

"Never."

"Well I do," it was an easy confession that startled both of you. You had meant it as both a I'm going to love you just now and I'm in love with you all at once. But that was something to be delved further into another time, "I do very much."

Before he could say anything else, you licked a long stripe up his shaft. His reaction was immediate as he bucked his hips up causing you to just push them back down. Laughing lightly, you tutted at him before taking him in your mouth - as much as you anyway. He was big and it did take some effort to get as much of him as possible. 

It wasn't long before he was writhing under you as you licked and sucked him to an inch of his life. Making a point to hollow your cheeks and be noisy, you played with balls as you pushed him closer and closer to his release. Your mouth was already costing with your spit and his salty pre-cum and his cock twitched in your mouth. Just before he came, you pulled off of him and say back on your haunches watching his chest rise and fall rapidly.

"I was almost-"

"I know," it was a sticky sweet answer as you ghosted a hand over his body. Your hand found its way around his throat as you squeezed; more intensity than he had applied to you, but not enough to hurt, "tell me, sweet boy, are you going to let me sit on your face?”

“Use me,” he insisted as you kissed your way up his body and stopped at his lips and captured them in a searing kiss. His were perfect against yours - soft, full, and plush. Before getting too lost in his kiss, you positioned yourself over his face, and his eager hands tried to reach for you, only to find out that he couldn’t. A small groan of frustration left his lips as you grinned and ran a hand through his dark curls, “sweet girl.”

“Use your mouth, Din,” you braced yourself on the headboard as you lowered yourself down to meet his mouth. If you had thought he was eager before, you were sorely mistaken. The man in question lapped at your freshly soaked folds like it was the last thing he would ever do. His nose was perfect against your sensitive bundle of nerves as his tongue delved into you and caused you to cry out in pleasure. Seeming satisfied with his work, you felt him grin against you, his beard tickled you in all the best ways, “fuck. So good - so, so good.”

“Sweet girl,” he murmured against your skin as you felt yourself melt into a puddle of jelly. His praise along with this ministrations was enough to have you seeing stars as you closed your eyes and felt that familiar coil start to snap in your belly. Rocking against his face, he picked up his pace until you were just about to cum again, but instead of letting your orgasm fully wash over you, you pulled back and moved off of your face, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shock your head before kissing him, tasting yourself on his tongue, “you’re perfect. Want to cum on all over your cock, Din. Feel you inside of me.”

“Please,” he was practically beginning at this point; he was harder than he ever been and needed to be inside of you, “come on, sweet girl.”

Swinging a leg over his hips, you grabbed his hard cock and pumped him a few times before lining himself up at your entrance. Slowly sinking down on him, the two of you moaned in unison, as he stretched you fully and completely.

“Din,” his name was but a soft, reverent whisper off your lips as you put your hands on his chest and started to bounce at a slow pace up and down his cock. He felt perfect inside of you, hitting all the right spots as your clit rubbed against his pubic hair. He thrust his hips up to meet each of your bounces, pulling harder and harder at the bindings. You leaned down and wrapped your arms around his neck as you pressed your chest against his and kissed every part of him that your lips found, “so close - sweet boy.”

“Me too,” he agreed, his voice crackling and rough, “gonna cum inside you.”

“Yes,” you breathed as your warms started to contract around him and you felt him twitch within you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you buried your face into his neck, whimpering against his skin, “Din.”

“Sweet girl,” he so desperately whispered he could wrap his arms around but instead kept his hips as close to yours as possible, “so good - so perfect.”

You all but collapsed in his arms as you laid on top of him, the two of you working to catch your breath. Once you came down from your high, you kissed his nose, and slowly moved to undo the bindings and free him from his confines. As soon as his arms and wrists were free, he wrapped his arms around you and traced his fingers up and down your back in soft patterns. Relaxing into his arms, you sighed contentedly, “you can be a good boy, Din.”

“Only for you,” he whispered softly, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, “I...I love you, sweet girl.”

“Yeah?” you asked as you rolled over and next to him. He hesitated for a moment but then slowly confirmed with a soft nod, “good. I...I love you, Din Djarin. I have for a while.” 

“I never...would have thought,” he murmured as he pulled into you his arms without even thinking - so easy and effortless. You eagerly complied, letting him pull you tightly against his chest as you tangled your legs with his. You weren’t sure what this all meant, or would lead to, but it was definitely something you could get used to. 

“Really?” you laughed lightly, a musical wonderful sound that he adored, even on his grumpiest days, as you took his hand and brought it to your lips, and placed a tender kiss to his knuckles. How he hadn’t known was beyond you - it all seemed so obvious. Din made a small sound, “I thought it was so obvious. It was to me at least, honey.  Even when we’re at each other’s throats - it was with love. Besides, I like when you get mad. It’s sexy.”

“You’re such a brat - my brat,” he buried his face into the pillow, but not before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “you’re amazing.” 

“You’re just saying that because I finally let you cum,” you teased as you felt your eyes getting heavy, “worth it.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a yawn, “but I’m getting you back for that next time. No hands? That’s just cruel.”

“Hmm,” you mused, “are we just going to keep taking turns? I could get used to that, Din.”

“I hope you do, sweet girl,” he murmured, “I hope you do.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[poursomesunaonme]

CONGRATULATIONS 🍾 🍾🍾🍾 i love celebrating milestones oh my god. okok. popping in for ur 50 followers event <3

1. eren *hella heart eyes 4 this boy omg*

2. yellow

3. non alc, orange juice, alc … bacardi

4. pumpkin picking + carving !! i’m really bad @ it tho LOL

5. i’m a turtle neck, jeans/sweats and giant ass coat kinda girl. and i either wear some form of boots or a ratty old pair of converse. but if i’m not looking cute it’s the first sweatshirt i find + sweats. i love love LOVE fall colors. i’m from a desert state so we don’t get fall, the leaves just turn yellow and fall to the ground, now that i’m in upstate ny for college , YOOOOOOOO. like COLORS. EVERYWHERE. has me cheesing like a little kid whenever i look outside my window. so i love leaves lol. i love the peacefulness that comes w cold weather … if that makes any sense at all. and the closer it get to christmas the more i get in the happy all the time spirit. bubble tea is the absolute love of my life.

6. sfw

(personal tidbit, i am a black woman so that’ll influence details such as hair, blushing, yadayada. thank u <3333)

elle, thank you soo much for this submission! this was really so fun to write (i was really hoping someone would send in a pumpkin carving date ugh) i do love me some softie eren hehe

word count: 2.7k

content/warnings: sfw, eren fluff, eren so soft i cant even comprehend how i wrote this, images of a penis (i dont know how to describe without spoiling LMAO)

author’s note: ahh my last submission:’) sorry to say that cuffing season is officially coming to an end, but i appreciate everyone whose submitted and interacted with my posts - y’all make me so happy!!!

cuffing season nav page

you’re greeted with the warmth of your house as you and eren stumble laughing through the door, each burdened with the weight of plump pumpkins. the two of you are all grins as your laughter peels clearly through the air. feet clamor across the floor, blindly kicking off boots as you and your man head to the kitchen to finish off your night with a bit of pumpkin carving.

“i’m gonna make…” eren trails off thoughtfully, tapping a finger to his lips. “no idea. i’m sure i’ll be inspired when i start.”

“yeah, right,” you shoot back at him, giggling at the pout that curls his bottom lip. a smile breaks through his poor excuse for a puppy face as he shrugs off your comment, moving to help you prepare for the mess that’s inevitably going to come out of this endeavor.

you gather up old newspapers and a bowl for the seeds as eren tears open the carving kits you had purchased on your way home from the pumpkin patch. as you spread the paper across the table, situating the pumpkins on top, you remember the ungodly amount of time you’d spent examining each one, making sure that the pumpkin you ended up purchasing was going to look perfect on your doorstep. eren, on the other hand, picked up the first one he saw and deemed it presentable.

before the two of you got started, you changed out of your clothes, swapping them for sweatshirts and pants that you didn’t care too much about. a happy warmth settles into your bones when eren’s hand brushes against yours on the way back to the kitchen, how your fingers intertwine automatically.

you sit down at the table, palms flat on the surface as you examine your perfectly round pumpkin. the task seems somewhat daunting now; you had spent so long looking for one that you didn’t want to mess up your one chance of creating a cute jack-o-lantern.

“so, uh, where do we start?” eren’s question tears you from your thoughts. you turn to him, seeing him resting his head on his hand, staring blankly at his pumpkin. your eyebrows furrow as the wheels turn in your head before coming to the right conclusion.

“wait, do you not know how to carve a pumpkin?”

his cheeks flame as he takes a few seconds to answer. “… no.”

“‘ren that’s just pitiful,” you laugh, scooting your chair and pumpkin closer to him to be able to show him what to do. the sentiment nearly makes your heart sink; you thought that everyone knew how to carve a pumpkin. but maybe that just wasn’t what eren’s family did when he was little. so, you relent in your teasing, not wanting to strike a nerve with him.

“whatever, teach me, o wise one.” the sarcasm in his voice elicits a surprisingly aggressive rise from you. albeit the venom is softened with the playful smile that toys with your lips.

“well if you’re gonna be sassy, maybe i won’t.” you cross your arms over your chest, trying your best to hold in a laugh as eren’s eyes widen into saucers. he turns to you, grabbing one of your hands and kissing it profusely.

“please, love.” his begging elicits a wide smile from your face, but you play off your relent with a dramatic eye roll.

“okay, but only because you’re being sweet now.”

“now?” eren releases your hand and crosses his arms instead. his theatrics are unparalleled by anyone you’d ever met. “i’m always sweet to you.”

you easily pursue the playful banter. “okay, you’re just pushing it now.”

he’s back on his proverbial hands in knees as he grasps both of your hands, leaning down to press his forehead against them. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry. please teach me, y/n.”

your laughter echoes throughout the kitchen as you twist your hands to cup his face and press a sweet kiss to his lips. “i was going to, i just wanted to see if you would grovel for it.”

eren bites his tongue, not wanting to press his luck. you gather the supplies and begin to instruct him in the mystic ways of pumpkin carving.

“okay, so first you carve off the top so that you can scoop out the seeds,” you begin, reaching to steady one hand on the top before plunging the knife into the solid skin. suddenly, an idea pops into your head. “ooh, we should make pumpkin seeds!”

you’re mouth is practically watering at the thought of the spice dissolving onto your tongue. eren perks up at the mention of snacks. “that sounds really good, actually.”

you clap your hands together enthusiastically. “okay then we’re doing it. anyways…”

you demonstrate how to jab the knife into the top and carve out a circle to make an easy handle, watching as eren struggles to control how his pumpkin shakes. the jagged lines that he creates won’t be easy to maneuver, so you have to fix it for him. when the caps are completed, you use the seed scoops included in the kit to remove the seeds from inside. you allow eren to roll up your sleeves before he does his own, and you both get to work.

a grimace contorts your features as the sticky, slimy ropes of seeds cling to your skin as you shovel them out in clumps. but, the work is quickly finished, and your pumpkins are ready for their makeover. he threatens to smear the seeds’ residue on you, so naturally you point a knife at him. needless to say, he relents.

“okay, they have a few templates that we can use.” you show him some of the traceable papers that were included in the box. he flits through them absentmindedly while you stare at the frankenstein’s monster that you ambitiously chose for your pumpkin. after a few moments, eren hands the papers back to you.

“i’m gonna go freestyle,” he announces, which you laugh at.

“you’ve never carved a pumpkin and you’re gonna go freestyle?”

“yes.” he’s dead set on making the worst pumpkin ever. you don’t pry into what his idea in, but needless to say, you’re scared at what his silly little mind had come up with.

“have at it, i guess,” you sigh, sticking the paper to your own pumpkin, trying to visualize where it would look best. once you sink your knife into the firm orange sink, the paper immediately tears. you swear, trying to piece it back together. the paper manages to stick together, but the image is severely warped; you know that your pumpkin is gonna suck.

“how’s it going over there?” eren teases, sneaking a glance at your failure. you swat him away, giggling at his nosiness. he hasn’t even begun to carve his pumpkin.

“oh, shut up, mr. freestyle,” you murmur, trying to fix your mistakes. as you continue poking the holes for tracing into the pumpkin, it continues to fall apart under your fingers. you eventually give up, trying to poke the holes yourself. as you inconspicuously flit your eyes to eren, you find that he’s already gotten to work on his carving. his eyebrows furrow together while his tongue sticks out in concentration.

the sight of him makes your heart melt as you turn your concentration back to your carving. the lack of confidence in your tracing seizes you as you attempt to begin to connect the dots, swearing as your flimsy knife breaks.

“ah, the passion of a young artist,” eren comments wittily as you roll your eyes as him, reaching for a spare knife. as soon as you resume your work, a crack resounds from eren’s vicinity. you adjust your gaze to see his cheeks flaming, looking at his now broken knife. neither of you say anything as he also reaches for a spare. your heart flutters at the way his hand cups the round fruit, his gaze intent on his labor.

at the end of your carving, after picking out the chunks of orange flesh that fall from the pumpkin, you find that you didn’t trace out the patterns correctly. the dimensions are all wrong, and half of the monster’s face had caved into the empty center. the physics of pumpkin carving were absolutely lost on you, not knowing how to carve correctly the right spaces that would create a gap for the light to shine through. you sigh and lean back, disappointed at how it came out, but it’s incredibly amusing to you.

“hey, look ‘ren,” you grab his attention, turning the pumpkin to show him. “i made you.”

his face contorts into a grimace at your sloppy work, but a guffaw escapes his lips as he leans in for a closer look. his hand immediately finds purchase on your leg, squeezing your thigh affectionately.

“babe, you got my face all wrong,” he gestures to the lopsided feature. you laugh, swatting away his hand as you stand to clean off the pumpkin seeds.

“wrong? hm, i don’t think so.” your fingers trace along his jawline as you saunter over to behold his pumpkin. “eren!”

he had carved a penis into his pumpkin. you choose to ignore his schoolboyish grin and go to make the pumpkin seeds.

you grab the bowl and immediately make a beeline for the kitchen sink. eren lets out a hearty laugh and follows you, finished with his carving. you call out the supplies you need as you wash the seeds clean of their sticky casing. the ropes easily wash off in the sink, flowing down the drain in response to you nimbly working your fingers over them.

eren’s arms wrap around your frame, pulling you closer to him as he buries his face in your hair. your heart skips a beat at his affection, but you continue to wash the seeds until they’re clean. the man that clings to you smells like fresh pumpkin, like fall, as he relishes in the warmth of your body.

“clingy today, aren’t we?” you tease him, moving to grab paper towels. he merely grunts, still holding onto you. you roll your eyes affectionately, even though he doesn’t see. at your departure from the kitchen sink, he lets go of you, but still follows you like a lost puppy.

you continue to teach him the ways of pumpkin use while dabbing the wetness off the seeds before tearing off a sheet of parchment paper to lay on the baking sheet. the tumble of the seeds is like music to your ears as you make sure they’re spread equally across the surface.

eren helps you out by sprinkling olive oil onto the seeds, marveling at how they glisten under the lights of the kitchen. deftly, you sprinkle salt, pepper, and other spicy seasoning while he watches you in wonder, pondering how he got so lucky with you.

and soon, the preparation of the seeds is finished as you pop the tray in the oven. you dust off your hands, leaning against the countertop as eren moves to corner you. his hands gently cup your face as he moves in to kiss you, the sweet smoothness of his lips slotting perfectly against yours.

you relish in the contact, hands traveling up his body to fiddle with his hair as the innocent kisses continue. he had been especially sweet to you today, knowing that the first beautiful fall day was his opportunity to shower you with an immeasurable amount of love. he had taken the long way to the pumpkin patch, letting you marvel at the scenery on the way there.

the onset of the changing of the seasons was apparent as the roads furled and unwound underneath his tires. the chill was something that you loved, as it gave you the opportunity to bundle underneath warm clothes (and your man). the leaves changing was enough to make you want to live a hermit life in the woods. the vibrant colors that exploded when autumn made her home in mother nature always amazed you. everywhere you looked, there were new colors to see, new palettes on every tree that you laid eyes on.

eren pulls back, his face somewhat serious. “hey, we need to go set out our pumpkins!” he reminds you.

“i don’t know if our neighbors are going to like a penis on our doorstep,” you tease, but follow him anyway.

“if they don’t like it, they can fix it themselves,” he annunciates dramatically, helping you gather supplies. you set a timer for the seeds on your phone while you get candles, a lighter, your sad excuses for jack-o-lanterns, and head outside. you’re greeted with the nippy autumn air enveloping your body, but with eren at your side, he provides more than enough warmth.

sitting on the stoop of the stairs, the two of you set up your pumpkins, lighting the candles and setting the tops back on. holding your hand, he leads you a few steps away to marvel at how the light flickers from within the orange fruit.

“let’s take some pictures!” eren suggests, unlocking his phone and propping it against a stone. the two of you take sweet self timers, serious, silly, and criminally cute ones too - the one where he literally whisks you off your feet to dip you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips is going to be printed and hanging in your house for the rest of your natural life.

your phone chimes at the end of the photography session, signaling the end of the seeds cooking. the two of you seek shelter from the bone-chilling cold inside, going to examine the seeds. the smell of the spices melding together floods into your nostrils as soon as you enter the house, causing your mouth to water. eren’s excitement can only be described as infantile as he runs ahead of you to retrieve the seeds.

they sizzle as he brings them out of the oven, marveling at how delectible they look, all browned and covered in delicious seasoning. the musky scent of the spices reaches your nose, eliciting an obnoxious amount of drool pooling on your mouth; you just want to sink your teeth right into them; but, you know restraint, unlike eren. you swat his hand away as he goes to grab one.

“do you wanna have your tongue burned off?” you tease, pushing his arm to set the tray down. he follows your lead, the sheet clattering loudly on the countertop.

“i guess not,” he sighs dramatically, arm wrapping around you once again. together, the two of you make your way to the couch to turn on a movie, getting only a few minutes in before eren is begging for the pumpkin seeds to snack on. you roll your eyes as he goes to get them, pouring them in a large bowl before returning to you.

as soon as he pops on into his mouth, he’s practically raving at how much of a goddess you are, at your perfection that he can’t even begin to comprehend. your heart swells at his affection, how his gorgeous green eyes glow with a love that you could never begin to comprehend.

“… and you suck at pumpkin carving, but pumpkin seeds,” he finishes with a dramatic imitation of a chef’s kiss, feeding you a bite. “that’s a different story. you’re amazing.”

you rest your head against his shoulder as the spice bursts across your tongue, absentmindedly tuning into the movie before eren’s fingers enclose around your jaw to turn your head to face him.

“i had the most wonderful day today, baby,” he murmurs. “thank you for everything. you’re just so amazing, i… i love you so much.”

a heat rises to your cheeks as you kiss him wordlessly, threatening to knock over the bowl of seeds at your passion. his arms wrap around you as the two of you forget about the snacks, forget about the movie, forget about the botched monster and penis pumpkin that sit on your doorstep; all you can think about is each other and how your hearts explode with an overpowering love when you tumble into his arms.

© all work belongs to poursomesunaonme. do not copy and repost.

[hunterxschafersxbitch]

chasin ch. 2

small update for y’all whilst i try to get my ao3 up and running xoxo 

thank you for showing your support! i really appreciate the likes and reblogs and comments!

fez sits in the passenger seat, brow slightly furrowed, wind blowing across his face. he holds a joint between two fingers, small embers trailing past as they head home to the tune of silence. 

ashtray is stoic tonight, not unusual for him. a regular occurrence to fez (sometimes he’d swear the kid could drive better than him), the sight of a stony-faced twelve year old driving a car with facial tattoos would seem almost comical to anyone else who happened to be on the road tonight. 

fez was so preoccupied that he wouldn’t have noticed if ash had started doing the polka in a wedding dress.  

he could only think of lexi, rolling the taste of her name around in his mouth like it was candy. the individual syllables - le-xi. 

the way she’d looked tonight was positively regal. she was gorgeous, and he couldn’t get his mind off of her. 

her hair, her brown doe eyes, her lips, her smile, her laugh - they all danced around the forefront of his brain, intertwining with her scent, the weight of her hands cradling his, the slight curls of her flyaway hairs. 

honestly, he still couldn’t believe that she had followed him out after he’d just beat the everloving shit out of that jacobs kid. 

right before he had left, he had locked eyes with her, pleading, almost asking her to understand. he knew she wouldn’t be able to, that she’d gotten a glimpse into the messiness of his life. he had known that she would run. 

he just hadn’t known that it would be after him. 

she’d run towards him - a mirage of water to a dying man in a desert. and he’d drunk the sight of her in, on the cusp of succumbing to resignation that he had received yet more confirmation that his grandmother had always been right about love. 

as to what would come now, he didn’t know. fez was always able to read people. it was those instincts, the ability to predict how someone was gonna react or do next, which kept him alive in the world he lived in. 

but with her, he had no idea. 

he knew he had to see her again. 

-

lexi sat on the couch massaging her temples. the truth was, she would rather have been anywhere but here. she wasn’t able to do this - be here, all sympathy and helpfulness. a paragon saint of servitude. 

cassie had insisted on going with maddy. ‘girls time’, she’d slurred, not listening to anything else that lexi could possibly have said. not that lexi was protesting. she’d had enough babysitting for one night. maddy, also drunk, had joined in on cassie’s pleas, seeming for all the world like proverbial twins. 

so, sighing, she’d piled them both into the back of an uber and shut the door. 

lexi often wondered if cassie would prefer a sister like maddy instead - someone who was also fun, who also seemed to be truly alive and in the moment, not someone who had to be dragged, kicking and screaming, to any and every social function that cassie wanted to attend. lexi knew that she took care of cassie in a way that no one else ever would - not their friends, not their parents, not her boyfriends. she hoped cassie would appreciate it one day. 

and thus, she had ended up on the couch alone, a world removed from the scene that had played out just a couple of hours earlier. the meet cute. but then everything with nate had happened and fez- well, fez was long gone. she supposed he couldn’t have stayed, considering the police and all.

the couch was cold to the touch, a reminder that all the life inside the room had filtered out, by means of ambulance or uber or drunken stumbling. the very air inside the living room was stuffy, suffocating. lexi felt like she was stuck in her own boring life, in her own boring choices. her mind wandered back to the night’s events, and she knew in her bones that she had made the wrong decision. the safe one. the lexi choice. 

just once, she longed to make the cassie choice, to hell with the consequences. 

she’d had that chance tonight. and she’d blown it.

now she was here. ready to clean puke out of the carpet. 

she pulled out her phone, biting her lip. 

fez could be asleep. fez could be uninterested. fez could be pissed off. 

she replayed his slight confession in her head, the way he looked when he told her he thought she was pretty. no, she decided. she was gonna make the cassie choice. plus, there was no guarantee that anything could come of it. she could have the wrong number. the cell towers could be down.

hey its lexi - still want me to come over? x 

lexi’d almost had a stroke when she saw she had sent that. hell, she briefly contemplated blowing up the cell towers herself. 

but three grey dots -  those fucking dots - popped up on the screen. he’d seen it. he was replying.  lexi stared intently at the screen, not even blinking.

yeah pull up here’s the addy :)

lexi let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

picking the cassie choice had meant that she was halfway out the door, checking the mirror to briefly to examine her makeup. 

lexi looked herself in the eyes. this was a woman who knew what she wanted. lexi knew how he made her feel - knew that something like this was nothing she’d ever felt before. and she craved more. 

because if there was any chance that he wanted her too, she owed it to herself to find out. 

hand on the door handle, she glanced and smiled back inside at the empty living room. in an alternative world, she would have been on her hands and knees, intently scrubbing the carpet and desperately attempting to not think about the night's events. 

too late to back out now, she thought. she closed the door behind her and broke into a run for her car. anticipation had lent itself into a sudden burst of adrenaline, and made her legs feel as though they had fireworks contained within. 

___

she had arrived at fez’s so fast it was almost embarrassing. lexi had always been a cautious driver, but a few stop signs may have turned into brief pauses as she turned down deserted streets, unaware that she was following the exact ember trail that fez had made earlier. 

she sat parked outside, hands firmly on the steering wheel, looking straight ahead. 

what was she doing?

she debated going home, and opened up her phone again. 

the small smiley face he had sent stared back up at her. and that sealed it. 

if it turned out he wasn’t interested in her like that, they could always be friends. at least she would know. it would hurt, sure, but the ‘what ifs’ would linger, kill her for certain. and she wasn’t going to make the wrong choice again tonight. 

she slammed the car door, straightened the kinks out of her tangled nerves, and took the steps up to his place two at a time, hand poised and ready to knock.

[hellothere-generalangsty]

Hi! It's me again! I can't stop thinking about your latest fanfiction, so I have another question!

Can you say something more about Hunter and Crosshair's relationship? Because if I understand correctly they both have a common past, but they don't get along well.

If this is a secret for now, please ignore this message 😅

Hunter – Home (TBB Western AU)

Summary: He promised himself to find him. He didn’t care how long, how far, how hard it would be, he'd find him. He'd bring him home.

Word Count: ≈1683 words

CW/ TW: Angsty™; western stuff, fighting, injuries, cut, blood, mention of betrayal, of alcohol, etc. Also death threats. The word “bullshit” is used once; aaand you may or may not hate me a bit after reading it xD

Tags: @chaoticvampirejedi @loth-wolffe @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @mintywriteswritings @dusk-dawn-and-stars @tacticalsparkles @imalovernotahater @canwestayinthisdream @wakeupjackthisisntfair @namesmox @badbatch-simp24 @lightning-wolffe @maddieskywalker @for-the-love-of-clones @m-e-w-117 @99squad @equalityforcats @ladykatakuri @techssexythighs @twinkofthedink

@firelordillyria @andiebell2023

Notes: This is the one. This is how the story really begins. Let me tell you I am. SO Excited. A tad bit nervous too because I don’t want to disappoint y’all but ya know. :’D

Also the songs Through The Valley – Shawn James and Little one – Highly Suspect have been playing on loop while I was writing this, because they just fit. So perfectly. For both of them.

Hunter had made a halt in a small village after a two days ride under the hot sun, stuck between the walls of a narrow canyon that could awake a feeling of claustrophobia in the bravest souls out there. Though he didn’t cross path with any bandits, his horse almost hurt itself on the way to the valley, forcing him to stop his travel. He had been on a lead for weeks now, trying, almost desperately, to put an end to this hunt and go home, victorious. But time was passing by, his days were getting shorter, his nights lonelier.

“A room for the night.”

The old man at the counter of the deserted inn shrugged. He opened a notebook and skimmed through it for a few seconds before closing it again.

“We don’t have that here,” he groaned, putting the notebook under the counter on a shelf Hunter could not see from where he was standing. “Try Marauder Valley. Got plenty of rooms there.”

“And where is it?”

The bell of the small shop rang at the same time, and the old man pointed his chin to the person who just came in. A perfectly timed entrance.

“I’ll get your order, give me a second.” The old man’s voice sounded less aggressive as he acknowledged the new client and walked toward the store room, disappearing behind the open door.

Hunter stood silent, trying to hold back a low sigh as he turned his head just enough to look over his shoulder, his eyes glancing at the floor until he saw the boots of the man who approached the counter. He noticed the slow, controlled pace, as well as the gun against the waist of the man. A tall, thin man that forced him to look up as he greeted him. He had a scar around the right eye, short grey curls loosely falling on his forehead, and a wheat stem in his mouth.

Hunter’s chest contracted in a painful shock, freezing his body in a cold rush of adrenaline as he assimilated the information. Any element of surprise was spoiled now; but the hunt was over. He had found him.

Crosshair’s hand reached for the grip of his gun in a very natural – almost automatic – way, his breath so quiet Hunter almost felt like he was in the presence of a ghost. The tension in the shop became painfully obvious, and the old man returning to the counter with a wooden box was the only thing preventing any misdemeanour.

“Come back next week, I’ll have the rest by then,” he commented, and as Crosshair grabbed the box, added, “The man wants to go to Marauder Valley.”

Crosshair locked his eyes on Hunter as he turned around, his words coming out in a slow, spiteful hiss.

“He’ll find his way, don’t worry.”

The bell rang again, and by the time Hunter realised what had just happened, Crosshair was gone.

.

Hunter had decided to leave his horse for the night, in order for it to get some rest after days of walking. Marauder Valley was only a few kilometres away, and he couldn’t afford to wait until the next morning.

He had expected a busy little town, but when he arrived, there was nothing to see but closed houses and a few footsteps on the ground, brushed away by the wind. Something felt odd, as if he was being watched. He was expected.

The clicking of a cylinder completed the sensation of a cold muzzle pressing against the back of his head and confirmed his intuition.

“You had to come here.”

He assumed, since he was still standing, that he had a chance to talk. He needed to. Slowly, calculating his every move, Hunter turned around to face…him. His eyes met nothing but a veil behind the whiskey pupils of the man he had spent so much time looking for.

“Col, listen-“, he started, but was immediately interrupted by a low, bitter “Crosshair.” He frowned, and Col – Crosshair – insisted, his voice coated by a frightening coldness.

“That’s my name. Remember?”

He did. The same way he was now being remembered of the gun lightly pressing his forehead. In an instant, he became aware of his surroundings; the heavy heat of the sun burning through his hat, his sore throat, the pain beating of his heart under his skin, the weight of his gun at his belt.

“Don’t think about it,” Crosshair’s voice snapped, as if he could read his mind like an open book. “You’d be dead before you’d know it.”

“Col- Crosshair, please, listen.

He expected to be interrupted, but nothing happened. Crosshair was staring at him – in him – but his patience was running low, and his finger itched to pull the trigger.

“I found you.” the words gave more weight to what was happening. Hunter let out a long sigh, as if he could finally breathe, after years of struggling. “I found you. I’ve been looking for you since…Since you left.”

“How sweet of you.” Crosshair barely tilted his head, unable to give him even the slightest ironic smile.

“I didn’t want for it to happen. I didn’t want you to leave.”

“Sure about that?”

“You shouldn’t have disappeared the way you did. Everyone was so worried – our parents, me. You should have stayed with us…with me. We could have worked through it.” Crosshair let out a spiteful chuckle. “What?”

“‘Worked through it’.”

Hunter felt his blood run cold in his veins. There was something utterly terrifying in the calm intonation Crosshair used, in the way his head turned to the side as a smile finally appeared on his face, seemingly heartfelt, truly amused. It barely took Hunter a second to guess he was about to be killed.

Then, there was pain. So vivid, so strong, it made him stagger and instinctively bring his hand to his face. He soon realised how bad of an idea it was when he felt the cold, hard barrel hit his fingers. He somehow managed to avoid another punch as Crosshair’s voice raised with each word he was pronouncing.

“Work through it, uh? You came here,” Hunter managed to disarm him, “thinking that we,” Crosshair punched him on his bruised cheek, “could work through it?!”

Hunter grabbed his wrist just in time to stop another punch, but Crosshair had guessed, and immediately went to twist his arm and force Hunter on his knees. From then on, Hunter had lost the little control he had left. The pain in his arm was a convincing enough argument to obey the silent order Crosshair gave him – he fell face first against the dusty ground, blood spurting from his mouth and coating his cheek. He could hardly make the difference between the stings and the sensation of a burn on his face, yet could feel the dust and his hair sticking to the warm red liquid, as well as the sudden emptiness of his gun’s holster.

“You seem to forget…”

Hunter’s heart stopped as two gunshots resonated behind him.

Crosshair’s breath was heavy, his heart pounding so hard in his chest it could rip his skin apart. He pushed the cylinder out of the gun, emptied it of all the bullets, letting them fall on the ground as Hunter was slowly getting back on his knees, his face covered in dust and blood.

Crosshair tried to talk. He wanted to scream at Hunter, to spit all the things that had happened, all the times he had felt so lonely, so isolated; he wanted to punch him until his knuckles were covered in the same bloody dust, until he could leave a scar on his face. So he could see, he could feel-

The gun dropped in a thud, breaking his thread of thoughts. When he looked down at his hands, he noticed they were shaking. He quickly abandoned the idea of closing his fingers in a fist, deciding instead to stretch them as he turned around to walk away. He couldn’t kill him. He just couldn’t.

“Col!”

Hunter pushed on his legs to get up, trying not to trip on his feet as he did so. The metallic taste coating his tongue and the words burning in his throat made him want to puke.

“I’m not leaving! You-“he coughed, spitting some blood in the process- “You know that! I’ll bring you home!”

A burning wave ran through his body when Crosshair froze. He had just touched a very sore spot, and realised as Crosshair swiftly turned around to come back on his steps that it may not have been his brightest idea.

“You’re not going to do anything,” Crosshair’s voice was low, but Hunter could almost hear the rage boiling in his chest as he was talking, “there’s no home, no working through it, no we.”

Hunter flinched as Crosshair pushed his finger against his chest. The veil in his eyes was gone, and for a second Hunter could read all the pain and anger in the eyes staring at him. Then the pressure on his chest disappeared, and Crosshair turned around, walked away. His hands were still shaking, his heart painfully pulsing in his chest, and the familiar impression of slowly suffocating awoke in him a fear that he had spent so much time trying to bury.

You want to stay? Fine, stay. You’ll learn how it feels like to not belong.

Hunter felt a pain in his jaw, realised he had been clenching it for…He couldn’t tell how long. He took a deep breath, looked around him until he saw the saloon’s sign. It seemed to be the only open property around.

He tried not to stumble as he got inside, but allowed himself to let himself drop on one of the high chair close to the counter. A strong, short lady appeared on the other side. She stared at his swollen face for a few seconds, frowning.

“Welcome to Marauder Valley. What d’you want?”

“A whisky please,” He grabbed the glass, slowly swirled the warm brown liquid before he added, “and a room for the night.”

[levithestripper]

Awww! This is such a cute idea! I haven’t seen Charles play the harmonica before, so I’ll do my best with it! PS: Its friends to lovers and a slight slow burn 😳😳 I definitely strayed a bit from your original idea but all of it’s there i promise! I may have not given you headcanons but instead a 6.5k fic- I really hope you enjoy!

✩ Requests are open!! Read the rules first! Gender neutral reader! ✩

✩ Masterlist! ✩

✩ Taglist: @sarins-stuff​ @reddeadrevolutionn ✩

✩ If you want to be added to a taglist, fill this out! ✩

✩ Warnings: None! ✩

✩ Ao3 Link! ✩

Charles x GN Reader- Sweet Love Songs ☀️✨

The camp up in Colter was cold and unforgiving compared to the almost desert like weather of Blackwater. The snow came up to your knees and froze you to your core whenever you went outside. You kept your long maroon colored coat on all the time, even when you slept. It was a rather expensive jacket as well, with fur lining the inside. Dutch had given it to you for your birthday. You mostly stayed in the cabin with Abigail and Mary-Beth, fixing the holes in the men’s clothing or doing the laundry. 

You had been running with the gang for a good couple of years now, becoming an integral part of having the camp run smoothly. You tend to pick up the slack when the other girls don’t do all of their chores, or go hunting if Arthur or Charles aren’t around. You were a good enough shot to bring home a few turkeys and maybe a doe on a good day. Charles had taught you how to hunt while the gang was still down in Blackwater. 

You could hear Charles playing his harmonica sometimes, along with Javier’s guitar and Pearson’s concertina. You loved to sit and listen to him play. He seemed so peaceful when he played, so concentrated with what he was playing. Other times, Charles will be singing along around the campfire if it was warmer that night. You enjoyed watching him sing, too. He didn’t do it often, but when he did, it was beautiful. His deep voice was easy to pick out from all the rest. It sounded smooth like honey; it could lull you to sleep from how comforting it sounded. 

The both of you enjoyed spending time together, but he had such a busy schedule you never got time to hang out. After leaving Colter, Charles and Javier left to go find Sean, so you haven’t seen him in a good couple of weeks at most. You missed his gentle singing and the soft smiles he’d give you across camp. It made you blush more often than not, seeing him excited to see you. Charles is a man of little words, so when he actively seeks you out in his free time, it makes you feel special, in a way. Loved, wanted even. You knew that he and Arthur were close, so if he was gone for a long time sometimes you’d ask Arthur if he had heard anything from Charles. Most of the time he just replies with a “’fraid not. Sorry,” and continues with his chores. 

The day Charles came back home was a normal one. You were over by the horses, helping Kieran feed and brush them. You looked up when horses could be heard riding into camp and relief washed over you when you saw it was Charles. A wide smile positioned itself on your face as you tapped Kieran’s shoulder to excitedly get his attention.

“Kieran! Kieran! Charles is finally home!” You point over to him and his horse, getting a soft smile from Charles. “I’ve missed him!”

Kieran chuckled softly, smiling at you when you turned back to look at him. “You sure are sweet on him, ain’t ‘cha? Just tell him already! It’s obvious the guy likes you too.” He shook his head when he saw you blush deep, shaking your head furiously. “C’mon, it’s pretty obvious. No one can be that close and not like each other. Y’all share everything!” 

Your blush deepens, spreading to your ears and the base of your neck. “Nuh uh! I just missed him is all!” You rebut, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Oh yeah? So you won’t freak out if I tell ya’ he’s coming over here now?” Kieran said with a smirk, crossing his arms right back. You wanted to prove him wrong but failed. You fixed your hair and clothes before turning away slightly so it seemed like you hadn’t noticed him yet. You busy yourself by brushing Branwen’s mane, pretending to not notice Charles as he walked up to you.

Charles walked up behind you, tapping your shoulder gently. “Hey, sidekick. Miss me?” He asked softly, opening his arms for one of his famous warm bear hugs.

You turn around quickly, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly. “I missed you!! I’m so happy you came home safe! Blackwater is so dangerous right now! Tell me all about it!” Charles had his arms draped over your shoulders, keeping you close. He returned your hug with a tighter one, keeping you close to his broad chest. Branwen neighed happily at the sight of Charles, tail flicking with interest. He rubbed the top of Branwen’s head gently, earning a soft smile from Kieran.

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it. Say, if Kieran can spare ya’, would you get us some stew and meet me at my tent? We’ll eat lunch and I’ll tell ya’ all you want to know, sidekick,” Charles said sweetly, looking over at Kieran for approval to steal his stable buddy. Obviously, the stable boy said it was okay for you to go, waving you off to go get his food. Charles smiled at you again before walking off to his small tent, making you blush.

Eagerly, you ran over to the campfire with two bowls in hand, filling them both up to the brim. After you set them down in his tent, you ran back over with his favorite mug, brewing fresh coffee for him. You knew how much he liked it when you made him coffee, he says that no one else can make it just right. You fill the mug all the way up to the brim and walked it carefully back to where he was waiting for you. 

Kieran watched you run over to Pearson’s cart, a stupid grin on his face. He shook his head fondly and went back to work. It was so obvious that the both of you were sweet on each other, y’all were just to oblivious to notice. It seemed to him like even the horses were in on the joke. Kieran could read you like an open book, even though he hasn’t known you for that long. 

The afternoon sun slowly started to drift lower in the sky, casting a soft golden glow over the camp. As it got darker, the others slowly went to bed one after another, leaving you and Charles the only ones awake. A cold breeze flew through the air, making you shiver and scoot closer to him. He looked around for a moment for his jacket, pulling it over your shoulders and draping an arm on top of it. Empty bowls were pushed to the side with a mug in one of them, bordered by Swanson’s empty whiskey bottles. The sun had cone down completely now, washing the camp in a darkness, which was only interrupted by the lanterns placed around. 

You had your head resting on the side of Charles’s chest, listening to his quiet voice tell you all about his time down by Blackwater and Sean’s rescue mission. Even his hushed speaking voice was soothing to you. You did your best, trying to stay awake to hear the entirety of the story, but you ended up falling asleep on him. He didn’t notice you had fallen asleep until he felt the slick slide of drool down his arm. He gently pulled you off of him and laid you down on his bedroll, tucking you in with the only blanket he had. Charles made sure you were as comfortable as possible before standing, cleaning up the mess they made during the night. After that was done, he walked back to you, sitting down next to you and kept watch for a while before he went to sleep too. 

Night passed quickly snuggled up against Charles, he was like a mini furnace. He slept with his arms wrapped around your waist tightly, your face nestled in his chest. His chin rested on top of your head, basically protecting you from all angles. He made sure you slept on the side furthest away from Javier. It’s not like Charles doesn’t trust Javi, but he’s the only one allowed to see how you look while you sleep. 

He woke a couple hours before you but didn’t move, not wanting to disturb you. Charles knows he’s sweet on you, but refuses to bring it up because he doesn’t want to possibly ruin the friendship he has with you, it’s to important to him. So until you confess to him or he grows balls and does it himself, he’s fine with it staying the way it is for now. He brought a hand up to your head, running a hand through your soft hair. His fingers got tangled in the knots scattered through it, so he gently started to brush it out with his hands. He understood the trouble of having hair long enough to tangle and how hard it is to take care of sometimes, especially in this line of work. 

The feeling of the your hair being played with caused you to stir slightly, waking you up. You yawn and stretch, body shaking when you do. You open your eyes slightly, decide that it’s too goddamn early to wake up, and close them again. Charles chuckles softly as he watches you wake up. “C’mon, sidekick. Time to get up, rejoin the world. We got stuff to do,” He said softly, hand moving down to stroke your cheek sweetly. “C’moon, wakey wakey.” You groan stubbornly, shaking your head no. He cups your cheek in his hand, gently nudging you awake. 

Eventually you agree, opening your eyes to look at him tiredly. “Charles… I’m still tired…” you yawn, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You try and snuggle further into him, wiggling close but failing as Charles pushes you away and sits you up. “It’s too early!” 

“It’s not that early, it’s almost noon.” Charles kept his hand on the side of your face since you both were sitting so close still. His thumb stroked over your cheekbone, slowing down when he felt you lean into it. “C’mon, sweetheart, lets get going…” He wanted to swoon when he looked at you, his heart pounding out of his chest. He was just so incredibly smitten with you, it’s unbelievable. You both were so close, all he had to do was lean in a bit closer to kiss you. Charles looked down at your lips then back up to you eyes, debating if it was worth the risk. He was going to go for it, but was cut off when you yawned again and stretched. The hand left your face slowly, returning to his lap. “There we go, awake and ready to start the day, sidekick?” 

You nod slowly, still a bit tired. Your hands went up to your eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. A cold breeze brushed past you, making you shiver and scoot closer to the large man sitting in front of you. Looking around, you got up onto your knees and moved to sit on his lap, pressing your head against his broad chest. “You’re too warm, lets just stay here all day! I much rather cuddle you than do stupid chores.” You pulled his arm into your lap, hugging it close to your chest. “You’re much more fun than ol’ Grimshaw anyhow.” You look up at him with a cute smile on your face. Charles chuckles down at you softly, wiggling his hand around to mess with you a bit. 

Charles thought for a moment before replying. “Hmm, now if you get dressed and do all your chores, I’ll play you something on my harmonica. I know how much you enjoy it.” He ran a hand through your hair, parting it gently. “Maybe if you do it quickly, I’ll sing you something too.” 

A grin spread across your face, making you giddy a bit. “Really?! You’d sing for me?” You didn’t realize that he had noticed how much you enjoyed listening to it. It was obvious to the others how much you enjoyed listening to him. You found out that everyone knew from Kieran, surprisingly. That boy hears all of the camp gossip so he passes it along to you if it was interesting enough. You were so embarrassed when he told you, which made him laugh softly around the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “I’ve missed hearing ya’ play around camp when you were gone.” 

“You missed hearing it?” He blushed but it was barely noticeable. “Just give me enough time to find it, that is. I seemed to have lost it somewhere in my bag.” Charles took his hand away from your grasp, slowly getting up after you had gotten off of his lap. “I really hope I didn’t loose it.” He looked around his shared tent, flipping open his satchel to rummage through it again. The satchels contents was poured on the ground into a little pile. Money clips and stolen jewelry were on the bottom with wrapped up leftover provisions on the top. Other miscellaneous stuff could be found in it, but they weren’t of much importance to you. 

Standing up, you brushed yourself off and began to get dressed for the day, pulling on your most comfortable clothes. “Of course I missed hearing it! You play so amazingly! Probably as good as Javier.” You lean in closer, whispering to him sweetly, making the man blush again. “Probably even better, but that’s between us.” Pulling a colorful shawl around your shoulders, you help Charles pick up the contents of his bag and put it away. “I’m sure you’ll find it, you’re never one for losing stuff. I bet you just put it in one of your saddle bags instead of your satchel.”

Charles nodded solemnly, looking over at you with one of those small heart swelling smiles he loved to give you. He pulled you close for another hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “If I can’t find it, I promise I’ll sing to you when I get a new one, okay?” You wrap your arms around his waist, hands barely able to touch each other. The side of your head rests against his chest, sinking into his embrace happily. His hand slowly made its way down to yours, locking your fingers together. “I’ll do something else though, but whatever it is it’ll be a surprise, sidekick.” You nod, sighing softly. 

“Well, I should get to work if I want to get my surprise.” Charles nodded, squeezing your hand before you pulled away from the hug. You wave goodbye to him, smiling when you saw Kieran tending to his horses. “Mornin’, Kieran! I see Mr.Branwen is doing well today.” You dig out a sugarcube out of your pocket for him, giggling when he ate it out of your hand. Leaning down to whisper in the horses ear, your giggling turning into quiet laughter. “Don’t tell Kieran, it’s our little secret!” 

Kieran set down the brush in his hand when he saw you walking over. “So, how’d your night with Charles go?” He asked with a smirk, crossing his arms across his chest and chuckling. “It was pretty quiet around here, I’m assuming y’all didn’t do nothing exciting.” That earned him a smack on the arm from you out of embarrassment, but it wasn’t hard enough to cause any damage. Branwen swished his tail in amusement, turning his head to search your pockets for any more snacks you may have brought for him. “Hey, I’m just sayin’! But I’m glad y’all had fun together. I like seeing ya’ happy,” he said, opening his arms shyly for a hug.

It was a tradition for both of you to hug in the morning. Neither of you remember how it started, but it seems like Kieran loves it as much as you do. You gave the horse a final pat on the head before walking around him to give him a hug. You know he doesn’t get enough love, so you’ll give him big tight hugs when you can, not including the daily ones. He wrapped his arms around your waist after your arms went up around his neck. You squeezed him tight before letting him go, smiling up at him. “And I like seeing you happy! Speaking of that, when are you gonna ask out Mary-Beth! I know y’all’re sweet on each other! She’ll write about you in her journal sometimes, she showed me one of ‘em.” He blushed deeply, sputtering in embarrassment. “It was super cute too! She thinks you’re adorable! Probably more than I do, which is a feat in of itself-” 

Kieran cut you off, blubbering embarrassingly. “N-N-N-No she ain’t! S-She ain’t thinkin’ I’m c-c-cute…! T-That ain’t p-possible…” He covered his flushed face with dirty hands. “I-I’m the one that’s s-supossed to say that ‘bout the l-lady…”

You giggle, bouncing around excitedly. Mary-Beth could be seen just outside of her tent, holding her novel as she debated on starting chores or reading more. It looked like she had decided the ladder, sitting down on a chair near Tilly. “You’re so sweet I think I’m gonna die! Just go talk to her! That can’t be too hard! I’ll get started on chores so you can go be sweet on her some more! You need some lovin’ too!” You look up at him with a sweet smile before turning around to hoist a dirty saddle up onto your shoulder. “I know you can do it, cowboy!” You whisper yell encouragingly. 

The man sighs, slouching over. “Okay, okay! I’ll go talk to her. But you ain’t allowed ta snoop!” Kieran hesitantly looked over at brown haired girl, visibly melting when he saw her. If his eyes could have hearts in them, they’d be there permanently by now. “Oh, how is it possible for a lady to be so pretty…?” He mumbled to himself quietly. He looked down and fixed his clothes, brushing off any dirt that may be on them. His hands were sweating bullets in his jacket pockets, clenching and unclenching nervously. He gathered up all the courage he could, psyched himself up and walked over to her shared tent, shyly asking to sit down next to her. “M-Miss? I just want-wanted to say you’re really pretty… I don’t mean’ta be to forward…” Kieran pulled his hands out of his overheating pockets, anxiously pressing them together as he waited for a reply. 

Mary-Beth looked up from her novel, looking around before her eyes settled on him, a soft smile appearing on her face. She closed her book and set it to the side. “Hi, Kieran. That’s mighty sweet of ya’. What caused you to come over?”

He froze up a bit, ransacking his brain for a reply but the words didn’t want to form in his mouth. The moment a pretty girl he was sweet on possibly showed signs of affection back, it was over for the boy. “O-Oh, I, uh, I was around, and I saw how pretty you looked… so I came over and… told ya’…” That was the last thing he expected to say. He’s glad it was a good response, but oh good lord he just called her pretty! To her face! He’s having a crisis, a panic attack! His face turned a deep, vibrant shade of red, almost darker than Molly’s expensive lipstick.

When she saw how flustered the poor stableboy got, Mary-Beth giggled a bit, leaning to put a hand on his knee. “Calm down, Kieran! It’s alright, don’t freak out!” She said, giggling more when Kieran sputtered from the unexpected touch, his face seemingly glowing neon red at this point.

Now, you promised him that you wouldn’t snoop, but hearing Mary-Beth’s quiet chuckles and a giggle here and there made it so hard. But, you managed to control yourself, cleaning almost all of the saddles and dragging the oversized hay bales to the horse’s feeding areas. Their chatter faded into the distance as you worked around the camp, soon replacing it with fantasies of what Charles’s surprise for you was going to be. You almost hoped that it would be some sort of jewelry, or something fancy that he had picked up along his travels near Blackwater. You always had a thing for rings and bracelets, they always had something special about them that you couldn’t explain.

The late morning sun shifted into afternoon, along came with it free time now that you had finished all of your assigned chores for the day. After you had finished them, you looked around for Charles, but couldn’t find him, assuming that he was just running late with his hunting. You went back to look through his tent, still failing to find his harmonica. Since Charles was still out of camp, you needed someone else to give you a ride into town. Arthur is always available, so you go over to his tent and carefully woke him up, shaking his shoulder. “Hey, Arthur? Arthur wake up.” You backed away a bit, giving the man room to sit up.

He huffed, sitting up in his cot. “What’s so important that you had’ta wake me up for, huh?” He ran a hand through his bed head, messing up the side part he had going on. His hand rubbed over his face, trying to wake himself up more. “Okay, what is it?”

“Can you take me to Emerald Ranch please? I need to get something from the Fence there. There’s no one else around to take me!” You ask desperately, hands clasped together in a pleading motion. “Please please please!” You pull your shawl back up around your shoulders. “Charles lost his harmonica back in Blackwater, so I want to surprise him with a new one. Please take me, it’ll be quick!” 

He sighed, mulling over his options. He stood up and walked past you, digging his signature worn hat out of the clothing trunk seated at the end of his bed. “Alrighty then, lets get going now if we want to make it back before supper. I don’t think Charles would like ma having ya’ out so late either.” He motioned for you to follow behind him, leading you to his black shire, Wilbur. Arthur laid a blanket down before turning around, placing his hands on your hips and lifting you up onto the back of his horse, sitting you sidesaddle. “Comfortable?”

You nod. “Thank you for setting a blanket down first. Very kind of you.” Your warms went around Arthur’s waist loosely, safely securing yourself behind him. “How long do you think it’ll take to get there? I’ve never been before. Is it nice there?” 

The shire started a lazy trot that went into a slower canter once they got out of the camp’s boundaries. “Oh, shouldn’t take too long. Wilbur here is a strong one. He’ll get us there in no time. I’ve been there a few times, the place is weird. You got a shut in woman, an old bloodstained saloon, and the resta ‘em are a bunch of dumbassess. You could probably rob ‘em pretty easily, you’re just like Hosea in that respect.” The scenery changed from luscious and green with trees everywhere, to tan and beige with desert like bushes and cacti. “The Fence there is a creep Hosea and I met, when we stole that stagecoach. Looks like a pervert,” Arthur said with a chuckle, slowing Wilbur back down to a walk as he approached the ranch. 

“A pervert you say? Well I’ll keep my guard up then.” You roll your eyes and give him a playful smirk.

Arthur led Wilbur up to a hitching post, tying him to it before helping you get off. “There you go. Now, go do your shopping and come back here when you’re done. I won’t go nowhere.” He looked down at his satchel, pulling out a cigarette and his journal. “And try not ta draw any attention to yourself.” He leaned on the wooden fencing next to his horse, beginning to sketch the landscape. Sliding down onto his butt, relaxing as he waited for you. “Other than that, have fun.” 

You waved goodbye to him with a smile on your face as you walked away, only turning around after you saw him half wave back at you. You looked around for a moment, watching others walk by and the farm hands doing their chores. Looking to the left, you saw the little storefront you came here for and started your trek over there. People greeted you as you walked past them, some asking if you were new around here. It seemed like it was a nice little town on the surface, but you could hear couples arguing in the distance and a creepy vibe came off of the big house in the center of town. But you had things to do so you did your best to ignore them. 

Shopping went by quickly. The Fence had a harmonica almost exactly like the old one Charles had. It was a deep syrupy brown mahogany wood base with gold plating around the edges. Except this time, you got his name engraved in the side of it. It was written in a fancy cursive font, making it feel expensive. The ‘C’ had a few curls in the top before it swooshed down into the rest of his name. Real gold was hard to come by nowadays, so it cost you almost all of the money you had saved up. You just hope that Charles likes it as much as you do. Since you spent basically all of your money on it, you didn’t know what you’d do if he rejected it. You bought a small leather pouch to put it in to keep it safe on the ride home. Fumbling for the opening, you set the instrument into its bag and set the bag in your pocket.

By the time you and Arthur returned to camp, the sun was sinking into the ground, casting a soft violet glow across the sky, making the stars glimmer brightly. Lanterns lit up Dutch’s tent from either side, the flaps drawn up high on either side. His gramophone was playing soft romantic songs in what it sounded like was Spanish. Everything is how you both had left it. Charles could be seen with a beer in his hand and laughing along to something John said. His hair was tied back in a sloppy man bun, obviously done without the help of a mirror. Strands of hair was falling out in the back, draping themselves around his shoulders. The glow from the fire radiated off of his dark skin, somehow making him look even more gorgeous than he already was. 

Arthur helped you off of his horse and wished you good luck. He suck by Wilbur for a while, tending to him since Kieran didn’t get a chance to yet. You thank him before walking off to your tent tiredly. The moment you get to your cot you flop over onto your stomach, letting out a long drawn out groan. You get up after a while and change into your pajamas, too tired to go mingle with the guys right now. You make sure to place the leather pouch on your side table so it would be less likely to get broken. The chatter around the camp had gone down. The newfound peace and quiet made you drowsy, pulling you under the covers laid on top of your cot, snuggling into them. Sleep overcame you easily, whisking the rest of the night away. 

Morning came and went without you. Luckily, Tilly had woken you up before Grimshaw had, for sure she would’ve yelled you awake instead of the sweet wake up call Tilly had given you. Busy with your chores all day, you almost had forgotten to sneak the harmonica into Charles’s bag. But, since Javier shares a tent with him; you asked him to plant it for you, which he agreed to happily.

The day seemed to drag on and on, it felt like every five minutes was an hour. You had already completed all of your chores, helped Kieran finish all of his, and the girls didn’t need any more help washing clothes so there was nothing for you to do. Even Pearson didn’t need anything. For once, Arthur brought back enough game for a good weeks worth of meals which means you couldn’t busy yourself with hunting either. Charles went out to Valentine with John to get more medical supplies and ammo. Since it’s John we’re talking about, you don’t know when he’ll be back. Hopefully he’s in one piece this time.

You’re just so excited for him to come home and ask you if you were the one that gave the harmonica to him. Deep down, you hope that when Charles finds out it was you he realizes how stupidly in love you are with him. You thought that you made it obvious given that even Kieran had picked up on it, but evidently Charles had a thicker skull than you thought. It was almost selfish, in a way. He’s your best friend, you do everything together and now you want him to agree to take it further than that. You want to tell him about your hidden feelings for you every time you see him, yet your nerves hold you back. You so desperately want to pull the man down by his collar and kiss him until you both run out of breath, until it feels like you’re the only ones left in the world. Hopefully seeing Charles with your present will give you the courage you needed to confess to him properly. 

Laying out in the sun on the outskirts of camp with your arms raised above your head and stretched out behind you. Light scattered down on your face, warming your skin. The trees provided enough shade for you not to burn, keeping you comfortable underneath them. There wasn’t a breeze today, making it just warm enough to be comfortable without needing a heavy jacket. Birds could be heard singing their love songs to each other drowned out the sound of woodpeckers pecking away at trees. Bunnies hopped along, running off to wherever they needed to go. 

You had been here for an hour or so, having closed your eyes about halfway through. Quiet footsteps came closer to where you were laying, but you ignored them in favor of continuing your relaxing. The crinkle of grass alerted you when someone sat down next to you, making your eyes open in curiosity. Sitting back up, you look over and a smile plastered itself on your face seeing that it was Charles. “Heya, Charles! How was your huntin’? Catch a lotta stuff for dinner? Pearson needs better stuff to cook with.” 

“Hey there, sidekick. I caught a buck and a few turkey, Pearson requested them. What about you? You enjoying your free time?” You nod. “I found a nice surprise in my bag this morning. Would you maybe know what it’s about? I don’t remember buying myself a harmonica recently.” Charles asked with a smirk, holding the harmonica out in his hands for you to see. “It’s a beautiful piece of artwork, really. Only someone who really knows what I like would’ve been able to buy it for me.”

“I’ve just been relaxing in the shade here, trying to pass the time while I waited for you to come home,” You said, a grin forming on your face. “Nope! I know nothing ‘bout that!” You shake your head back and forth no. Your giddy smile gave it all away, not like it was hard to figure it out in the first place though. “Whoever got that for you must care about ya a lot, since I don’t think you told many people about loosing it.” Scooting closer to him, you lean on the side of his arm and look up at him. It’s glaringly obvious that you were the one who bought it for Charles, no one else could have found one with such a resemblance to his previous instrument. “Maybe Tilly got it for you. You know how she has an eye for things like that.”

He nodded, humming a reply. “Mmm, I see.” He set the instrument back into its pouch and set it on the ground, turning to sit directly in front of you. His hands found a place in your smaller ones, holding them between the two of you. “So, you sure you know nothing about this?” Charles asked again, an eyebrow raised this time. 

“I’m sure!” 

One of his hands moves up to your face, cupping the bottom of your jaw. The tips of his fingers brushed the side of your neck. He scooted closer, moving his legs so one is bent with the knee up and the other tucked underneath. Charles leaned in close, staring deep into your eyes. His intentions were obvious. You could see the hearts bouncing around in his dark brown eyes. He whispers, “I love you, too,” before closing his eyes and pressing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. Both hands were resting just under your jawline, keeping you close. His thumbs were just in front of your ears, far back enough to still be able to stroke the tops of your cheekbones. He pulled you close to him by your head. A hand moved its way into your hair, holding the back of your skull, cradling your head.

Shock went through you for a split second before you started to kiss him back eagerly, hands coming up to his shirt. Your head tilted to the side, giving him more room to make out with you and as an excuse to press your cheek into Charles’s warm hand some more. Your draped your arms around his neck, hands tangling themselves in his long hair. You felt Charles’s hand that wasn’t in your hair move down to your waist, aware of it going all the way down your side. Your cheeks were a deep crimson, making your whole face appear flushed. Confessing to him went a lot easier than you had hoped, considering you didn’t have to do it. 

A large ray of golden sunshine cast down on the both of you, making the experience feel even more magical than it already was. It passed through the leaves, making patterned shadows on the ground around the both of you. The woods reacted as if it were in a fairy tale book, flowers blooming and glitter shimmering off of everything. A butterfly landed on the top of your head, making you seem even more ethereal than you already are. The bird songs grew sweeter, pairs of birds started to line the branches of the trees. Doe’s and their fawns sat down a distance away from them, visible but far enough to be safe. A chocolate brown baby bunny hopped its way into your lap, snuggling into your stomach. 

It felt like you both had been kissing forever, but in reality it probably had only been a minute at most. Charles’s thumb caressed your face soothingly. Both of his hands returned to their original place on your face, holding it gently. That one simple action almost showed how much he loved and cared for you, but it will always be more than he could ever express in actions or words. He gently started to pull away from you, noses brushing in passing. Charles didn’t move too far away, you were still able to feel his exhales against the bottom of your chin. He opened his eyes to look at you, searching to see that you enjoyed it as much as he had. “I hope that was okay, sidekick.” Charles mumbled softly, thumbs stroking over your cheekbones again. “…Your lips feel even better than I imagined they would…” He took your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, making you look him in the eye. “You're so beautiful… I can't believe I haven't done that sooner… Please tell me you enjoyed that as much as I did.”

You snuggled close and kissed his cheek sweetly. “I've only been waiting for that for like, ever. I wanted the way I confessed to you to be a surprise, like an expensive gift or something. It seemed like it was good timing, .” You move your hand up to the one still stationed on your cheek, covering it with your own. 

Charles held you close, a wide grin on his face. “So I’m not crazy for wanting to kiss you again? Or for wanting to take you out on a proper date? Take you out to dinner, or see a show together? Please let me kiss you again.” He leaned down and kissed you again softly after he saw you nod your consent. It was a shorter kiss than the first one you shared. It was sweet and simple, so Charles pulled away quicker this time. He moved his hands away from your face after that, deciding that holding your hands would be the better option. 

“Y-You want to actually take me out on a date?” Your face was blood red with embarrassment, making you look small and cute. “You’re definitely not crazy, I really want to go out with you too.” Your hands were tiny compared to Charles’s hands. You could fit most of your hand in his palm, fingers not even passing up his second knuckles. He wrapped his fingers around the tops of your hands, warming them up. “I’ve liked you for a stupidly long time. I never thought you’d figure it out, though. Didn’t know you saw me in that way.” Looking up at him, you could see the udder adoration that was plastered all over Charles’s face. 

Charles gently pulled away from his grasp on your hands, moving down to your waist and lifting you up to sit on his lap, which was much more comfortable by the way. He was a comfortable distance away from your face, a dumb, lovestruck smile on his lips. His thumbs rubbing soft circles just above where your hip dips would be. “How could I not see you like that? You’re sweet, and funny, kind, smart, beautiful. Everything I could ever want. You’re my best friend. Why wouldn’t I be sweet on you?” Charles brushed your hair out of your face, kissing your cheek.

You giggled softly, looking down at your lap then looked back up again when you were settled on his lap. “I really like that you’re sweet on me. It’s cute.” Your blush went down a bit, but your face was still glowing red. “Did you know that I was sweet on you before this? Kieran said that he could tell clear as day my feelings towards you.” You ask, leaning your head on his warm chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heartbeat. The rhythmic beating of his chest kept you grounded in reality. Feeling his chest go up and down with his breathing was very comforting for some reason, making you nuzzle in deeper. 

“It may be obvious to Kieran, since he knows you so well. But to me it wasn’t obvious.” Charles looped his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head. He kisses your hair gently. “But I’m glad that you’re sweet on me too.”

Fun fact that I learned while writing this: the knuckles in the base of your hand are actually your first knuckles, and the first ones on your fingers are your second knuckles.

I have now written the word knuckles so many times it makes want to punch the fucking sonic character

[fleetingpieces]

My One in a Million CH 7

Y’all, this chapter got so out of hand and it’s so lOnG (or at least longer than any other chapter I posted) Thank you so so much @inloveoknutzy @knittingdreams @heyitssmiller and @donttouchmycarrots !! You all helped with this chapter in different ways and I appreciate you all so much❤️❤️

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added!)

@whataboutmyfries  @justdyingontheinside @heyoitslysso @sunflowerfox87 @hereforwolfstarr @potterlocked24-7 @cheekeebabe (i can’t seem to find your tumblr :( ) @domesticatedbeetlenamedjorge

CW: mentions of past animal abuse, emergency clinic, mention of needles

Masterlist

Ao3

Chapter 7 - Rough night

“Go home, son.”

Remus lifted his head from where it’d been buried in his hands for who knows how long and looked at the doctor smiling sadly at him.

It was well past any reasonable time, he’d probably been sitting there for hours, but Remus couldn't bring himself to move from his spot in the waiting room.

He didn't want to go.

He couldn't stand the idea of going back home alone, of Cocoa not being there with him. He felt as if he wasn't really there at the clinic, his mind was miles away in a deserted, foggy forest, where a furry little puppy was chained to a tree, barely keeping his eyes open, his ribs protruding like a black skeleton. How could he just go?

The feel of Cocoa’s body trembling with spasms in his arms as he’d carried him to the car was still fresh in his mind; how he’d whined pitifully from the back seat while Remus sped through the city until he reached the emergency clinic, how both their hearts had been beating a thousand miles per minute when he picked him up again and burst through the front doors.

The fear clutching at his heart had made him numb to anything else going on around him, to the way he’d practically screamed at the poor guy at the reception desk until someone came to help him. And even though he knew it was exactly what he’d come here for, parting from Cocoa and watching as they took him away had almost broken Remus all over again.

He would give anything to feel that heartbeat under his palm right then.

A hand settled heavily on his shoulder, grounding him back into his body. Remus didn't want to listen to those words again. Go. It sounded a lot like he was abandoning him.

"You need to rest. And Cocoa needs to stay in observation, but I promise we will take good care of him. You can come back tomorrow afternoon, he’ll probably be ready to go home by then."

Resigned, Remus nodded. He knew he couldn't stay and that Cocoa was in good hands, but that did nothing to quell his guilt.

He thanked the doctor, who squeezed his shoulder once, and walked numbly out the building.

The next half hour was a blur. Remus had no idea how he got back to his apartment building, he only had vague memories of getting back into his car and driving through the mostly empty streets.

All he knew was that he was now there, standing in front of his door, staring at the pattern in the wood without really seeing it, picturing the empty flat that was awaiting for him on the other side instead. Remus counted to ten and sighed. He figured it wouldn’t get easier any time soon, so he fished in his pocket for his keys.

Only to realise he didn’t have them.

He stared at his empty pocket as he replayed in his head how he’d dropped the keys to the floor when he’d gotten home earlier that day, and in his haste to get Cocoa checked, he hadn’t grabbed anything other than the car keys.

“Fucking fuck, just...fuck!” he slammed his fist against the door once, like that was going to solve anything.

Suddenly he felt exhausted. He’d been through way too many emotions in just one day and all he wanted to do was lie in bed, but he couldn’t do that ‘cause he was fucking locked out. Remus let his back hit the wall and slid down to the floor, hiding his head in his knees. Despite everything, part of him was kinda glad that he didn’t have to go in when he knew there would be no one there expecting him.

He’d left him at the clinic. Alone. Probably inside a tiny cage, with no one there to comfort him and those horrible intravenous lines piercing his skin. Remus knew first hand how uncomfortable those were.

His eyes burned as tears started prickling behind his eyelids and dampened the fabric of his shorts. It was his fault. Two years ago he’d promised he would take care of Cocoa, make sure he was happy, and look how that turned out.

“Remus?”

Oh, fuck. Remus tightened his grip on his knees as he heard fast footsteps approaching.

“Remus, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

The rustle of a bag thumping against the floor close by was the only warning he got before he felt someone kneeling next to him, but Remus refused to look up. What the hell was he doing out at this time? Remus was not sure he could deal with this right now. Not with the tornado that was Sirius Black.

He could feel the other man shuffling about, most likely not sure what to do, until he finally said softly, “Remus, please look at me?”

There was such a plea in his voice, and a level of concern he hadn’t expected. Remus knew he couldn’t stay this way forever, so he reluctantly raised his head, doing his best to dry his face on his clothes as he did. He just hoped his eyes didn't look as bloodshot as they felt.

Sirius' eyebrows were furrowed, worry written all over his face as he knelt there, his hands half-raised like he wanted to touch Remus but wasn’t sure if he was allowed to.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

Remus stared into silver eyes, trying his damn best to school his features into a mask of impassiveness. “I...I forgot my keys.”

“Ok…” Sirius eyed him wearily. “Do you have any spares?”

“Leo does, but I can’t ask him to bring them now,” Remus shrugged.

“So what, you were just going to sit here all night?”

Remus didn’t reply. He just shrugged again, his gaze glazing over and drifting to the wall in front of him. He wasn’t sure he had many options, and his brain wasn’t cooperating to come up with a solution. Maybe he could force the door open. But then he would have to pay for the damages, and he might not be able to close the door again and leave it broken for the night.

A sigh brought him out from his unhelpful thoughts. “Why don’t you come to my place?”

“What?” his eyes snapped back to Sirius, who quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You can’t possibly spend the night here Remus. For one, it’s freezing cold and you’re only in your gym clothes. And for another, I won’t allow it.”

It did seem like a very reasonable option, but then Remus noticed just how close Sirius was from him, his warmth radiating from his body and warming Remus’ numb fingers. Suddenly, all he could think of was how he’d almost kissed this man just a couple of hours ago. What if Sirius was only asking because of that? Was he purposely trying to get Remus alone?

“Ah, thank you, but I can go to my Mum’s or...or I could sleep in my car.”

“Remus don’t be stupid. It’s the middle of the night. Your Mum lives far away and she’s probably sleeping right now, and seriously? What the hell are you thinking? Sleeping in your car? No fucking way, that’s dangerous, and I have Netflix, ice cream, and a perfectly good guest room just three feet away.”

Remus hesitated. Even if he felt more comfortable knowing there was a guest room available, he still wasn’t sure he could face Sirius and whatever had happened in that pool. Wouldn’t it be awkward?

But Sirius did have a point, he couldn’t go back home. And though he was reluctant to admit it, he didn’t want to be alone right now and Sirius’ voice was strangely calming.

“Are you sure?” Remus asked, biting his lip.

“Of course.” Sirius smiled and got up, picking up the bag that he’d dropped on the floor. It was from the shop down the corner, full of snacks and a pack of cigarettes as far as Remus could tell. He offered Remus a hand and helped him get up, then led the way to his flat without another word.

Remus followed numbly, using what was left of his strength to lift his feet enough not to drag them over the floor. Once inside, he glanced idly around, noticing a few more details now that there were no people partying everywhere. There was a weird mix of decor going on: some of the stuff was tastefully modern (and very expensive), while other things were the kind of trinkets you would most likely find at a thrift store or in a street market. A Queen flag hung from the same wall as a street sign that had clearly been stolen, right next to a huge telescope that looked out the window.

“Make yourself at home,” Sirius said over his shoulder as he went over to the kitchen.

Doors closing and the sound of ceramic clinking came from the place Sirius had disappeared to. Remus moved in autopilot to sit at the couch and glanced down at his hands. His brain felt like mush, his mind going completely blank while he waited.

He didn’t move an inch until Sirius came back a few minutes later, holding a steaming cup of tea that he offered Remus. It took him a couple of seconds to figure out how to move his arm again, and when he did, it was trembling so badly that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold the cup without spilling tea everywhere. He hoped Sirius wouldn’t notice, but by the way he frowned, he had no such luck.

Indeed, Sirius placed the mug on the coffee table before Remus could get a hold of it and sat down in front of him. He then reached slowly to clasp Remus’ hand in both of his.

“Jesus fuck Remus, you’re fucking freezing. Just how long were you sitting out there?” he asked in a reproachful tone.

Remus simply shrugged. He had no idea, and besides, he was too focused on Sirius’ big hands around his. He knew he probably shouldn’t, that the other man probably didn’t even mean it in that way, but he took comfort in that small touch, in how gently Sirius held him. It was as if he was scared Remus would break, or disappear in a cloud of smoke. He vaguely wondered if Sirius realised how long it’d been since Remus was touched like this.

When he spoke next, Sirius’ voice was softer. “Ok, this is what we’re going to do. You’re going to forget about that cup of tea, go take a hot shower and change into warmer clothes. Warming your fingertips and digestive tract is pointless if the rest of you is still freezing. And after that, we’ll get you sorted for the night. D’accord?”

A steaming shower sounded like bliss right then, especially now that Remus was painfully aware of how cold his shaking body was. Just accept it, he told himself, but all that came out of him was “I don’t have clothes to change into.”

His voice sounded dull even to his own ears, but Sirius kindly ignored it and waved a dismissive hand.

“I’ll lend you some. Now come on,” his tone didn’t leave room for arguing.

Remus was finding it harder and harder to look at his face, so he let his head drop. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Remus.”

Slowly, warm fingers extended towards him, touching lightly below his chin to make him look up. Sirius’ face was a wonderful mix of fierce and caring as he stared at him intently.

“You are not a bother. Ok? Not now, not ever.”

Remus’ throat closed up, and he didn’t trust his voice to sound steady, so he just nodded quickly. Sirius smiled reassuringly and brushed his fingers in a feather-like caress, and Remus found himself jutting his chin forward to prolong the touch, but, much too soon, Sirius let go and got up.

He guided Remus through a hall and into a spacious bathroom that had both a big bathtub and a shower cubicle. Sirius went straight to open the hot tap so the water would warm up, and then he reached into the cabinet under the sink, pulling out a soft looking white towel, which he placed on the counter. He turned to look at Remus.

“Toiletries are just in that corner, use whatever you need. I’ll just go get some clean clothes for you and be right back.” He smiled again and left.

With nothing else to do, Remus let his eyes wander around the room that was slowly filling with hot steam from the shower, until he looked on top of the sink and was startled at his own reflection in the mirror.

Damn, he was a fucking mess. His clothes were rumpled, his hair ruffled and dishevelled from all the times he’d raked a hand through it, and his eyes were red, puffy and a little bit dead.

“Here you go.” Sirius walked back in, carrying a pile of neatly folded clothes which he put next to the towel. “Call me if you need anything, d’accord? Take your time.”

Remus nodded and thanked him, not quite able to meet his eye. Sirius closed the door behind him and Remus took off his clothes and stepped in the shower. He hadn’t realised how taught his muscles were until the jet of hot water hit his back and he relaxed under the pressure. It was very soothing, standing there for a while, slowly working his body to loosen up, while thinking of everything that had happened that day and trying to calm down.

By the time he finished, he hadn’t succeeded completely, but felt a lot better all the same. He snagged the towel, draping it across himself, and went through the pile of clothes that Sirius had left for him, a warm feeling spreading through his chest.

The feeling extended to his cheeks when he picked up a small square of black fabric, only to realise it was a pair of Sirius’ underwear.

Oh God, was he really going to wear his neighbour’s underwear? His hot neighbour’s underwear? His hot neighbour whom he very much had wanted to pin against the pool tiles and kiss senseless?

He bristled and looked up at the ceiling. Well, it’s not like the air between them could get any more awkward, could it?

***

Sirius started tugging at his bottom lip for the ninth time since he’d sat at the sofa. Remus had been in the shower for a really long time and he was starting to get worried. He still felt slightly thrown off-kilter by the way he’d found the man sitting by the door, curled in a ball and hugging his legs as if his life depended on it.

And the despair in those amber eyes when he’d finally looked up at him… How the fuck was he supposed to ignore that? He never wanted to see that look in Remus’ eyes ever again.

He was just about to go over and knock on the door when he heard some shuffling, and his head perked up to see Remus walking into the room and stop by the archway awkwardly. Sirius tried to ignore how cute Remus looked in his sweats and hoodie that were two sizes too big for him. His wet curls were flopping over his forehead adorably, but damn, it was certainly not the time to be smitten by the man.

Remus was clutching his own clothes against his chest in a protective stance, like that could shield him from...Sirius had no idea what.

And that was exactly the problem, wasn’t it? This man was so open one minute and incredibly guarded the next; Sirius could tell he was desperately trying to protect himself from something. But he just didn’t know why.

He mustered up a smile, trying to make Remus feel more at ease, and approached him. “Hey there,” he eyed Remus’ face discreetly. He looked better, but still seemed to be a bit off and he held the bundle tighter when Sirius got close. “I can show you where the guestroom is if you want to lie down, and then I’ll make you another tea. I’m afraid I drank the other one while I waited. Both cold and warmed up tea should be a crime,” he said, trying to lighten up the mood. Anything to get Remus to drop some of his walls.

The corner of Remus’ mouth quirked up slightly, and, given the circumstances, Sirius took that as a success.

"Actually, I… I don't think I can sleep right now," Remus said, rubbing at the side of his neck.

"That's ok," Sirius reassured. "Do you want me to stay up with you? We can play games or watch a movie. Or would you rather I leave you alone?"

And then Remus had that look again, that seemed as though he was drowning, and Sirius prepared himself to be shut out without knowing why. But then again, Remus never seemed to do what he expected him to.

"I wouldn't mind some company, if that's ok," he said, before he hurried to add, "but don't feel like you have to."

Sirius smiled brightly at him. "My work schedule is fucked up anyway, so don't worry about it. Why don't you go sit on the couch? I'll get us something to drink."

While Remus nodded and sat down, Sirius went back into the kitchen and turned on the kettle. He was actually meant to be editing his last recording, even more now that he had more of a reason to do it.

He’d received Remus’ merch a few days ago, and had made a video using it for the sole purpose of imagining Remus’ face when he saw it on Padfoot’s channel. Usually, Marlene was in charge of doing the editing, but he’d asked her to let him do this one himself. He knew it was stupid, but even if Remus wouldn’t know, he wanted it to be something personal.

The eagerness to finish them tonight was almost consuming him; he was sure they would lift Remus’ spirits. But he couldn’t leave him alone right now.

The water boiled, Sirius filled two mugs with a nice aromatic tea, and, after a moment of hesitation, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard and walked back into the living room. 

Keeping a safe distance between them, he sat on the couch next to Remus, who raised an eyebrow when Sirius placed the bottle at the table. He simply shrugged in response.

"I thought you might want some."

Remus narrowed his eyes and held his cup in both hands, but after taking two sips he seemed to think better of it and reached over to pour himself a healthy dose. He sighed when he drank next and stared ahead, his eyes getting that faraway look again. Sirius wasn’t sure he wanted to know where exactly Remus was at that moment. 

He’d been wondering for a while as to what could have gotten Remus in this state. The man was usually so composed, except for those few moments Sirius had gotten a glimpse of, when he could practically see him closing up. He hated that feeling, hated not knowing how to help him or avoid those reactions.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked after a moment.

“About what?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow even though Remus was not looking at him. “You don’t seriously think I believed for a second that you were crying in the hallway because you forgot your keys, do you?”

Remus flinched but still kept his head down, avoiding his gaze, and a horrible thought occurred to him.

“I...I don’t want to assume anything,” he started, feeling a weight drop in his stomach, “but if this has anything to do with… you know, with what happened earlier then I…” he fumbled for the right words as he gestured vaguely with his hands, and finally Remus looked back with a confused expression on his face. He frowned for a second and then realisation dawned on him and he hurried to shake his head.

“No, no that’s not it. I...Something else happened and I had to leave my flat in a hurry. It’s...it’s not about that.”

His face turned to a lovely shade of pink, and Sirius had the sudden urge to cup those cheeks in his palms and feel the soft skin beneath them. He balled his hands into fists to keep himself from reaching out.

“Ok,” Sirius said, relieved but still worried. Remus seemed uncomfortable, and though Sirius had a million questions he was dying to ask, he knew it was not the time. Instead, he added some whiskey to his own tea. “Well, I’m here for you, in whichever way you need.”

Silence stretched between them, and it didn’t seem like Remus wanted to talk, so Sirius found a silly movie that could take Remus’ mind off things and they sat in companionable silence. They sipped from their spiked teas while the movie rolled, and when those were finished they moved on to straight whiskey.

He could tell Remus kept stealing glances at him, and even opened his mouth a couple times, but ended up closing it back in the end. He gave him the time he needed and waited.

“Sirius,” Remus called after a while. When Sirius glanced at him from his spot by the armrest, he found soft eyes, warm like melted caramel, trained on him. “Thank you.”

His voice was earnest and loaded with emotions that Sirius couldn’t figure out, but it sent a flutter through his stomach. He smiled fondly at this gorgeous, unpredictable man that had stumbled in his life at such a dark time. “Anytime, Rem.”

Remus' face turned almost pleading, and it was becoming physically impossible for Sirius not to get closer and pull him into his arms. Not when he was clearly upset about something and possibly a bit drunk.

No, he didn't want to do it like this.

He raked his brain for a safe topic and said the first thing that came to mind. "So, you said your classes were going well?"

Remus blinked a few times and then made a vague gesture with a hand, almost knocking the bottle in the process.

Well, he was definitely a bit drunk.

"It's great. Everyone is very nice and welcoming. And it's amazing that I got to know Lily and Natalie. Although Nat can be a bit hard to deal with," he said, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. In fact, he seemed rather fond of both girls.

Remus stretched forward to grab the bottle again, his mug tilting precariously on his leg. Sirius wasn't sure it was a good idea for him to keep drinking, so he snatched it right from his fingertips and placed both mugs on the table.

“Hey!” Remus protested.

“You're clearly ahead of me, I’m just catching up,” Sirius smiled mischievously as he gulped down, the warm liquid burning his throat, and laughed when Remus scowled at him. “Tu es mignon,” he said before he could stop himself.

Fuck. Maybe he should cut back on the alcohol too.

But Remus didn’t comment on it, just stared at Sirius with those big eyes that somehow were so much like his pet’s. And suddenly something clicked in his head.

“Oh crap. Will Cocoa be ok?” he asked Remus, who just stared. “Y’know, with you being locked out and all.” Remus continued to stare, his hand flinching the only indication that he’d heard him. Sirius raised an eyebrow and watched, alarmed, as tears started welling in Remus’ eyes. He fumbled around, flustered, wanting to hug Remus but not sure if Remus would want him to. “Ok, merde, don’t worry. Maybe I can climb over to your balcony? But I don’t think I can get in unless you left the window open…”

Remus sniffed. “My dog…”

“Fuck, wait here. Maybe I can open the door anyway, I’ll just go-” he was already stumbling out of his seat, but stopped when he felt Remus pulling at his sleeve.

“He’s not there.”

“Not there? What do you mean?”

“He-” Remus sniffed again and his breath hitched, “he’s at the clinic.”

Sirius sat down slowly, his heart beating fast. “What are you talking about?”

“I… I got back home and he… he’d found some of my chocolate, I don’t even know where he got it from.” Remus paused to take a shaky breath. Sirius could just imagine the moment, and Remus’ worry, and his heart ached for him. For both of them. “He was all… trembling and stuff. I took him to the emergency clinic straight away.”

“Is he going to be okay?” he asked as gently as he could.

“I think so. They gave him something to absorb the toxins, but he had to stay in observation just in case.”

“That’s good news, isn’t it?”

Remus’ tears started falling harder; great, heaving sobs shaking his body. He was a wreck, eyes swollen, wet tracks down his red cheeks, and Sirius couldn’t help it anymore. He took Remus’ hand, who held on as though that was the only thing keeping him together.

“But I left him alone at the hospital! When I found him chained to that tree, I promised I would take care of him, that I wouldn’t abandon him just like his old owners had. Just like I was ditched too. And I just left him there!”

Sirius started at that. What did he mean ‘he was ditched’? Every new detail about Remus’ past that came to light felt like having his vision go clearer and darker at the same time. Some questions were answered, but a lot more appeared that were worse than the ones before. He didn’t understand why Remus’ mum or Leo hadn’t been at the hospital with him, or exactly why he’d been stuck in bed in the first place. But he knew it was still hard on Remus. He could only imagine what leaving Cocoa at the clinic would have done to him.

“It’s my fault he ate the chocolate in the first place…”

“Oh no, we’re not going to do that. This is not your fault.”

“But he almost died,” he said, with his head bowed in shame.

Sirius scooted closer and held Remus’ tighter, while he used his free hand to wipe the other man’s tears with his thumb, first on one cheek and then the other. He pressed his palm against Remus’ cheek and locked eyes with him.

"Remus, the way you reacted is probably what saved his life. That dog loves you, anyone can tell, and I know you would never do anything that would hurt him. Cocoa is going to be fine."

Remus’ breath hitched again as he leant into the touch.

"How do you know?" he asked helplessly.

Sirius smiled softly at him. "’Cause he's a fighter just like you are."

It was small, but slowly, an actual, genuine smile spread across Remus’ face, looking at Sirius as if he was seeing him for the first time, and Sirius felt his world stop.

It didn’t feel like the sun was rising after the longest night. It was more like coming up for air after being underwater without even knowing it. It was melting every barrier he’d ever built. It was wishing he could see that smile every day, because if Remus smiled like that, then everything was a little bit better.

Before he could get his mind riled up about how deeply enthralled by the man he was and the panicking that would ensue, Remus yawned.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed."

Stretching his arms over his head, Sirius stood up and turned the TV off. Remus tried to follow but stumbled over his feet and would have crashed over the table if Sirius hadn't caught him in time, draping a hand around his middle.

"Oops," Remus chuckled, and Sirius inwardly winced at how adorable he was.

He put an arm under his shoulders and helped him to his room, not bothering to turn on the light. He opened the bed covers for him, and guided him down; Remus’ eyes were halfway closed even when he was still sitting, and Sirius had to force himself to turn around and leave, but just as he did, long fingers slid into his hand, holding on to him.

“Don’t go,” Remus whispered, his eyes now on Sirius’.

What was he meant to do about that? They were both drunk, Remus had been through a lot, and he didn’t want it to look like he was taking advantage of his state.

“It’s ok, I’ll be in the room next door if you need anything,” he assured him. He tried to get Remus to lie down, but he held on to his hand and didn’t let go.

“I can play you some rain sounds?” he offered, a bit desperate, not quite thinking straight as the alcohol was making him a bit dizzy. Or maybe that was just the effect Remus had on him.

“No, you,” Remus pouted, tugging at his arm.

Sirius wanted to. He really, really wanted to lie down with him, tuck him close and hold on for dear life. But it didn’t feel right, Remus might not want the same thing if the circumstances were different.

“Please? I don’t want to be alone.”

The conflict in his mind dimmed and he sighed, defeated, ‘cause there was no way Sirius could say no to that.

Please, don’t regret this tomorrow.

He nodded, and Remus smiled and let Sirius tuck him into bed with the blankets up to his chin. Sirius removed his shoes and went to the other side of the bed, lying on his side on top of the covers.

Remus turned on his side as well, and then they were face to face with just a few inches between them. It was dark, but not dark enough that Sirius couldn’t see Remus’ face, his soft curls, the freckles over the bridge of his nose, those beautiful honey eyes, the curve of his lips...

How the fuck was he supposed to sleep with him right there?

It would be impossible. All he could think about was how only a few hours earlier they’d also been this close to each other, how their breaths had entwined, driving him mad. He’d been so sure that Remus was about to kiss him. And he’d wanted him to, fuck, he wanted it so badly. The need to be closer was becoming unbearable.

But maybe it was all just wishful thinking, considering the way Remus had ran from him.

He hadn’t realised he was still staring at Remus’ lips until they moved, just barely, to whisper almost inaudibly.

"Goodnight, Sirius."

When he looked up, Remus’ eyes were already closed, and a few seconds later the sound of slow, even breathing filled the room.

Sirius watched him sleep for a while; his face finally relaxed and more open than it’d been all night. Stretching slightly forward, he tilted his chin up to press a soft kiss on Remus’ forehead.

"Goodnight, Re."