#guess i'll have to sit here buried under the weight of all the things i want to draw but can't because ow

[sinkovia]

Coffee Shop: IX

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.

Coffee shop Masterlist

As Simon walked through the door of his house, a heavy wave of agonizing guilt crashed over him, consuming him entirely. His body moved on autopilot while his mind was in turmoil, torn between regret and longing.

All he wanted in that moment was to be with you, to hold you close and make things right. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting you, of seeing the pain he had caused reflected in your eyes.

Sitting on his couch, Riley curled up beside him, Simon ran a hand over his face, the weight of his actions bearing down on him like a crushing weight.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, a flood of remorse flooding his thoughts. Never had he imagined that he would be capable of hurting you to the point of making your eyes water. He wanted to punch himself for being so foolish, for letting fear cloud his judgment.

But perhaps there was still hope. Maybe if he explained himself, you would understand. You were always so kind and forgiving, and he hoped you would extend that kindness to him too.

He knew he needed to be honest with you, to tell you how he truly felt. His heart felt lighter whenever he was around you, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. He needed to explain that he had frozen and pulled away because he was terrified of letting himself be vulnerable again. But he was willing to risk it all if it meant he could spend a lifetime by your side.

If there was one thing he was certain of, it was his unwavering desire to be with you, to cherish and protect you for as long as he lived.

Simon sat on his couch, staring at the picture of you and Riley on his phone, feeling a mix of longing and uncertainty. He wanted to reach out to you, to explain himself and make things right, but he couldn't shake the doubt gnawing at him. Would you even want to hear from him right now? Would it be fair to intrude on your space when he had hurt you so deeply?

He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the screen as he debated whether to send a text or not. He knew that explaining himself over text wouldn't do justice to the depth of his feelings, but he also wanted to let you know that he cared about what had happened between you two.

Finally, he typed out a message, his heart pounding in his chest as he hit send.

Simon: Can we talk about what happened?

He held his breath, checking his phone every few seconds, his nerves getting the better of him as he waited for your reply. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, his mind racing with thoughts of what your response might be.

Meanwhile, on your side of things, you saw the text the instant it arrived, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond. Tossing your phone to the other side of your bed, you buried your face in your hands, the pain of rejection still fresh in your mind.

You were lying on your bed with missy sitting next to you, “Missy, I don't know what to do. I'm so embarrassed…”

She purrs softly, rubbing against your hand.

“I thought Simon and I had a moment, you know? But then when I tried to kiss him, he pulled away… He doesn't feel the same way about me, Missy. And now I feel like I could never show my face around him again. I feel like such a fool.”

She nudges your hand affectionately, licking it before lying beside you.

“I know, I know… Maybe I misread the situation. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to kiss him. But it felt right in that moment, you know? And now… now I just feel so rejected and embarrassed. I don't know how I'll face him again… Ive completely ruined our friendship.” Missy continues to purr, offering silent comfort.

“Thanks, Missy. I guess I'll just have to figure out how to move forward from this… But for now, I'm glad I have you here with me. You always know how to make me feel better.”

Simon couldn't shake the feeling of unease that kept him awake throughout the night. He wanted to reach out to you, to make sure you were okay, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew you probably didn't want to see him, let alone talk to him, especially after he hadn't received a reply to his text.

The next morning, Simon walked to the café, rehearsing in his mind what he wanted to say to you. But when he entered, his brows furrowed in confusion as he saw a man behind the counter.

"Is y/n here?" Simon asked, his brow furrowing in disappointment when the man shook his head. "Took the week off, I'm filling in for her," the man replied.

Sighing heavily, Simon walked out of the cafe, his mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. Eventually, he decided to go to the store and pick up a few things for you.

As Simon walked into the store, he pulled up a recipe for banana nut muffins on his phone, remembering that they were your favorite. With determination, he grabbed a cart and began weaving through the aisles, picking up each ingredient listed on the recipe.

"Baking powder, baking soda, eggs, butter," he muttered to himself as he scanned the list, double-checking his cart to ensure he had everything he needed. But then, his eyes widened as he reached the next step in the instructions.

"What in the bloody fuck is a stand mixer?" He quickly scrolled through the recipe, realizing that he lacked many of the essential tools for baking.

Determined not to let this setback deter him, Simon made his way to the kitchenware aisle and began grabbing a stand mixer, measuring cups, bowls, and a muffin tray – everything necessary to complete the recipe. As he scanned the shelves, his eyes landed on a floral tray that reminded him of you.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he imagined presenting the freshly baked muffins to you on the elegant tray.

As Simon made his way through the store, he couldn't resist stopping by the pet aisle. Remembering Missy, he turned into the cat section and picked out a few toys, treats, and some catnip, wanting to spoil her a little.

Continuing through the aisles, Simon suddenly remembered you mentioning something about "The Hungry Games." He furrowed his brows, trying to recall exactly what you had said.

Approaching a store clerk, Simon asked, "Do you have 'The Hungry Games' on DVD?"

The man looked puzzled for a moment before correcting him, "You mean 'The Hunger Games,' bro?"

"Yeah." Simon replied, following the clerk to the DVD section. He was handed a collector's set that included all the movies, but he noticed that 'The Ballad of Snakes and Birds' was missing.

"The Ballad of Snakes and Birds isn't in here,"

The clerk laughed. "You buying this for your girlfriend?"

Simon scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Yeah, something like that."

The clerk explained that 'The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes' had recently been released in theaters, so it wasn't available on DVD yet. However, he offered to provide Simon with a bootleg website where he could watch it online.

"Okay," Simon agreed, taking the sticky note with the website address. He added the DVD collection to his cart before continuing his shopping for you, determined to make it a special gesture.

"Muffins, movies, Missy… hmm…" he muttered to himself as he strolled down an aisle filled with wooden baskets. Inspiration struck him as he realized that making you a basket filled with things you liked would be perfect. It would be easier for him to carry and he could would be able to add more thoughtful items.

He got a throw blanket adorned with cats, reminiscent of Missy, along with a selection of candles, strawberry seeds, a flower pot with a design he thought you would adore, a flower Lego set you had mentioned once, and a Ross gift card.

Stopping at the floral shop on his way home, Simon picked out a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers and a plant to put in the flower pot.

Back at home, Simon spent the entire afternoon making the muffins. He struggled with assembling the stand mixer, nearly breaking it in the process, and cursed himself when he accidentally dropped an eggshell into the batter. Despite his mishaps, he persevered, spending five painstaking minutes trying to retrieve the stubborn piece of shell.

When the muffins finally emerged from the oven, they looked picture-perfect, as if straight out of a baking catalog.

Simon surveyed the kitchen, which was now a chaotic mess from his baking endeavors, but he couldn't help but smile at the sight of the muffins.

Simon worked diligently, loading all the dishes into the dishwasher before turning his attention to putting together your basket. Carefully, he rolled the throw blanket and positioned it on the side, arranging the candles and movie set in the front. He placed the flower Legos on the other side, ensuring everything was balanced, before nestling your bouquet of flowers in the middle.

With precision, he placed the plant from the florist into the pot and positioned it neatly beside the flowers. The strawberry packet and gift card found their place near the pot, completing the ensemble. Stepping back, Simon admired his handiwork, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as he imagined your reaction.

After washing and drying the floral tray, he carefully arranged the cooled-down muffins on it. With Riley on a leash and in the car, Simon carried your basket and the tray of muffins to the car.

As he pulled into your driveway, Simon took a deep breath, his nerves tingling. He glanced at Riley in the passenger seat and felt a sense of reassurance. "I just gotta be honest with her," he murmured, running his hand over Riley's head. Riley responded with a lick and Simon smiled.

You heard the doorbell ring, and your heart skipped a beat as you peered through the peephole, your pulse quickening at the sight of Simon standing outside with something large in his hands. With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, you unlocked the door and opened it slowly.

Simon stood before you with an apologetic smile, Riley wagging his tail by his feet. "I'm so sorry, love. Can we talk?" he asked softly, his gaze pleading. You felt a rush of emotions as you looked from him to the items in his hands, and a smile tugged at your lips. Stepping aside, you welcomed him in.

He set the basket and tray down on the coffee table in front of you, and you took a seat beside him on the couch as Riley explored the living room. It was time to have that conversation you had been dreading, but somehow, with Simon beside you and his heartfelt gesture before you, it felt a little less daunting.

Simon took a deep breath, his nerves practically humming with anticipation as he tapped his finger against his thigh. Never before had he felt so jittery, so utterly consumed by the weight of his emotions.

For a man who had faced countless missions and life-threatening situations, confessing his feelings to the woman he loved was the ultimate test of his courage.

You noticed his restless tapping and glanced down at his finger rhythmically drumming against his jeans. When his gaze met yours, you looked up at him, waiting expectantly for him to speak. As you both held your breath, awaiting the words that hung heavy in the air.

Simon takes a deep breath, his gaze locking with yours, and he begins to speak, his words heavy with sincerity. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry for pulling away like that. It wasn't because I didn't want to kiss you… It's just… I got scared."

Your body is turned toward him, your full attention on his words as he continues. "I've never really been good with words, but I want you to know that… I've always been afraid of letting myself be vulnerable, especially when it comes to people I care about… people I love…"

Your breath catches slightly in your throat, your mind reeling with the weight of his admission. Love? Did he truly feel that way about you?

"I care about you a lot. Maybe even more than I should admit. I was afraid that if you came to know the real me… the things I've done, you might… you might turn away."

Simon's eyes search yours for understanding. "I realize now that pushing you away was the worst thing I could've done. You're… you're perfect, and I felt like I wasn't good enough for someone like you."

"But that's not fair to you. You deserve honesty. And the truth is, I care about you more than I've cared about anyone. I can't bear the thought of losing you. I just needed to explain, to let you know how I feel. And… I'm sorry for hurting you."

He pauses, gathering his thoughts before adding softly, "And… and I want you to know… I wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss me." you softly smiled before glancing down at your hands, taking a deep breath. Your soft gaze met his warm brown eyes.

"Simon… thank you for being honest with me. I know it couldn't have been easy for you to open up like this."

Your thumb rolled over his knuckles, "Every time you walked into the cafe, my heart skipped a beat. It was like the world paused for a moment, and all I could focus on was you."

"And whenever you looked at me, or called me 'love,' it made me feel… special," you confessed, your voice softening with emotion. "Like I was the only one in the room that mattered to you."

"All those moments we spent together, even if it was just a simple conversation or a quick smile exchanged across the room, meant everything to me," you continued, your voice filled with sincerity. "It was like… the highlight of my day, every single time."

"I always found a reason to try and talk to you because… because being around you made me happy," you admitted, your heart laid bare. "And even if I couldn't find the right words to say, just being near you made everything feel right somehow."

"I understand that we all have parts of ourselves that we're afraid to reveal, but you don't have to face those fears alone," you assured him, your gaze unwavering. "I'm here for you, Simon, always."

"And as for stepping away… well, we all make mistakes," you offered, your tone gentle but firm. "What matters is that we learn from them and try to make things right. And trust me, I'm not as perfect as you think. But together, maybe we can be perfect for each other."

Leaning in closer, your heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and anticipation, you glanced down at your hand over his and met Simon's gaze again.

"And as for the kiss… well, I wouldn't mind trying that again" you murmured, your voice laced with a hint of playfulness, yet brimming with longing.

As you leaned in closer, your heart pounding with anticipation, Simon's hand softly found its place on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand comforting and familiar.

Your eyes locked, and in that moment, all doubts and fears melted away. Slowly, hesitantly, Simon inched closer, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, silently seeking reassurance that you wanted this. With a soft smile, you closed the gap between you, both of you closing your eyes as your lips met in a soft kiss.

Simon's heart raced in his chest as he felt the soft press of your lips against his, a rush of warmth flooding through him as he moved his lips in sync with yours. In that moment, everything felt right, as if the pieces of a puzzle were finally falling into place. As you both pulled away, you both smiled and glanced at eachother before glancing away, smiles lingering on both of your faces.

Simon remembered the basket and brought it onto his lap, his expression softening as he said, “I got you a little something, a few things I thought you would like.” You were finally able to take everything in, and you gasped when you saw the Lego flower set.

“Stop! You remembered!” you exclaimed, feeling like a kid on Christmas as you looked through the basket, making appreciative little comments about everything. Simon just smiled, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of your joy.

“You got the collector's set! We need to watch this right now!” Simon laughed and grabbed the muffins off the table. “Works out, we got snacks for the movie night.”

You gasped, grabbing the cute floral tray. “Did you make these, Si? They smell so good! You really did all of this for me? This is so sweet, Si, thank you so much.”

“Of course, sweetheart, you're worth all the time and effort,” Simon replied, a new endearment slipping from his lips.

“Can you put the movie in the DVD player? I want to light this candle and roll out this blanket. I can make us some tea?” you asked, and Simon smiled and nodded. “I’ll get on it, and some tea would be bloody nice right now.”

You smiled and nodded, and as Simon got up to put the DVD in the player, you cut the tags off the blanket and put some tea to brew while you lit a candle, setting it on the coffee table.

You sat next to Simon, both of you under the throw blanket, and you took a bite of the muffin, you realized this was better than any muffin you had ever made.

Simon took a sip of his tea as he fed Missy the treats he bought her, the cat purring contentedly on his lap. Simon looked down at Missy and then at Riley, nestled between the two of you sleeping peacefully. His gaze then lingered on you as you took another bite of the muffin while your eyes were glued to the TV. He smiled, turning to the screen, his smile lingering.

In that moment, as love swelled in his heart, Simon was truly happy, and content with life as he sat next to you.

[worldismyne]

Almost Home Ch 7

Summary: Harv takes shelter in a strange castle in the middle of the woods on his way back home. He only planned on staying one night. It’s just, there always seems to be a reason why it’d be a good idea to stay just one more night.

AU - Finn and Harv meet years after graduating.

Rating: M

Pairing: Harv/Finn

Series: Warrior U

Ao3 link

Finn grumbled when cold air hit his skin as Harv got out of bed. He'd been rather content treating him like a weighted blanket up until now. He reached out, blindly fishing for something to replace him with, but by then it was too late; he was awake again.

"Sorry, I was trying not to wake you." Harv picked his clothes off the floor from last night and dressed himself. "It is midday though."

"It's a holiday." Finn rolled over, watching Harv with a pout. "Does that mean you're going downstairs already?"

"I was hoping to get some breakfast, yeah."

"And tea?" Finn asked. He wrapped himself in a bundle of covers and nestled into the pillows. Harv crawled back onto the bed to get a better view of Finn's face.

"I seem to recall a certain someone promising to make me tea every morning." Harv teased, catching a fold of the blanket as Finn tried to pull his head under the covers.

"But it's cold and you're already up." Harv pecked his forehead.

"You want me to bring it to you in bed?" Harv asked, but the question petered out oddly at the end. Like he had thought of saying something more afterward then changed his mind. 

"If it's not too much trouble." Finn batted his lashes. Harv rolled his eyes and slowly scooted toward the edge of the bed. Over exaggerating each movement as if it was the most labor-intensive thing he'd done in weeks.

"I guess I could." Harv said, laughing when Finn gave his thigh a playful shove to hasten him off the bed. "I'll just go by myself... alone..." Finn threw a pillow at him as he slowly got toward the door. "The things I do for love." He sighed and exited the room. Finn pushed himself out of his cocoon looking at the door in shock. Of all the times to just blurt something out like that only to just run out of the room afterward. Coils of energy started to tighten in Finn's chest with nowhere to go. He threw himself face first into the pillow and let out a joyous scream. Then, gasping for air, pulled himself up to a sitting position. 

It was hardly an elaborate affair, but it was a confession. 

Eager ravens that quoted bars of his unfinished songs at the windowsill no were longer his only companions. Having someone downstairs felt warmer and brighter than the sunlight streaming through the curtains. He pulled himself out of bed to the window with a puzzled expression. Birds did not sing sweet songs during a snowstorm. To his dismay, the sky was still, not a single snowflake in sight. If the storm had truly passed, it would be safe for Harv to leave tomorrow. Finn clutched the curtains in his hands.

What was he doing holing away up here when this could be the last day? 

He threw on his thickest robe and thundered down the stairs, almost tripping as he tried to run into his slippers. Harv was standing in the kitchen in front of the fridge with a puzzled, distant look on his face, the kettle screaming on the stove. 

"You just open the door and food will be there." Finn sighed. "It won't bite." Finn picked up the kettle and poured them both a cup. Strong arms wrapped around his waist and Harv buried his face in Finn's neck. "What happened to getting food?"

"Got distracted." Harv voice was muffled against his skin. "Figured since it's John's day we could bring out wine or ale, but don't know where you keep it." 

"With breakfast?" As much as Finn loved having someone pressed up against him, Harv was making it difficult to get to the sugar. The jar was up against the wall, just a foot out of reach.

"Dawn til Dusk." Harv let Finn go after feeling him claw for the sugar jar. "It's how we did it on the front at least. There are not too many days you can just slack off, but no one wants to fight during the holiday. We'd all get sloshed around the fire and you could hear enemy camps singing the same songs in their own language across the way." Finn couldn't fathom this man willingly holding a weapon against anyone, even though logically he'd have had to. He was a soldier at the end of the day. 

"As touching as that is, there's no reason to drink to forget here." Finn handed him his cup of tea with the milk and sugar mixed in already.

"It's not to forget life... It's to celebrate it." Harv smiled at the cup fondly. "Like, no matter what life threw at you this year, you still made it through the whole way. It's a chance to laugh at the things that tried to pull you down. Helps you let go of it."

"I'm not going to stop you." Finn sauntered over to the slate to summon some drink. "It's just, I'm a lightweight, so I won't be able to partake until later." Getting stabbed in the liver also didn't help his cause, but that tale was a little too somber to tell today. He pulled out a few bottles and set them on the counter.

"I can wait." Harv downed his cup of tea.

"Harvey..."

"I can." 

"We can still tell stories though." Finn smiled a little. "Now that I know you're a local I can get you caught up on all the hot gossip you missed out on." He was looking forward to cozying up next to Harv on the couch, sharing little stories and trying to block out that the snow had stopped falling. He gathered little sandwiches and other things made with leftovers from the holidays. "Grab the biscuits, will you?" It wasn't the heartiest of meals, but Finn wasn't interested in drawing out conversation across the table. 

Finn arranged things on the coffee table, all little pinches of things that would be easy to reach from the couch. Harv looked over the bookshelf next to the hearth and puzzled over the titles. Some of the spines had long words in florid gold calligraphy that was hard to read, but he recognized enough to piece together how Finn had organized everything. Long multivolume epics were clumped together at the bottom shelf and some classics at the top, but the grip of them were things Finn had deemed comedies or romances all scrambled together in with tragedies. Harv tilted one of the spines forward, admiring how the golden ends of the pages formed pictures of iconic scenes.

"You put the Greene Knight next to Sir Degrevant?" Harv put the book back where he found it.

"Why not?" Finn asked. "They're both chivalric romances." Finn dusted off his hands and joined Harv at the bookshelf. "See, it goes from boring Arthurian legends into romances with happy endings." He ran his finger across the spines. "Then the Greene Knight marks the start of the tragic romances, and those slowly lead into the comedies as a palate cleanser. Many of the best love stories end in tragedy it seems."

"Yes, I figured that, but my question is more about how you've put the Green Knight in as a romance." Harv said. Finn rolled his eyes, pulling the book off the shelf and flipping to a well worn section of pages.

"-the deer Bertilak presented was cleaned and skinned, a finer gift than any Sir Gawain had thought he'd receive. In exchange he had but a chaste kiss, its origins he dared not speak, and laid his lips against the lord's enthusiastically." Finn slapped the book shut. "By the end of the story, he could have had an oath of devotion and wedding ring to exchange. Need I go on?"

"That didn't sound anything like a quote from a poem." Harv went to reach for the book, but Finn pulled it out of reach.

"Bards get special privileges, like choosing which parts of the story to focus on." Finn ducked and slid the book into its place on the shelf, only to block it with his back. "And in all the best versions I've heard; Lady Hautdesert tries to foist her marital duties onto Sir Gawain and it's up to him to chivalrously avoid committing adultery without breaking the lord's heart. He could have revealed her to be unfaithful or taken her place, but instead he throws the game in the lord's favor. But not before giving him three final kisses. Kisses he could have withheld since he already chose to lose the game by withholding the green girdle he was given, but he didn't."

"Did you make that copy then?"

"Well, yeah... I made all of them." Finn watched as Harv pulled a different volume off the shelf. "It's the only way I can make sure the best version of the story gets saved."

"Even the little paintings?" Harv admired the work fondly.

"It's like you know which ones will embarrass me the most." Finn felt his face heat up. "That's one of the first I decorated."

"Which one's your favorite then?" Harv put the book back.

"The Story of Silence," Finn hesitated, "but if you're looking for something to read, I'd prefer something with a happier ending today. Maybe even something silly." Unfortunately, he was struggling to find anything that fit the bill. He instead grabbed something a little more childish in nature; of people adventuring in far off places. It was short, but that just meant they'd be able to finish it in one day. He grabbed Harv by the arm and started leading him toward the couch.

"You're not going to sing it?" Harv was practically shoved into the corner of the couch.

"I'd love to, but then I'd be over there," Finn turned to face the standing harp across the room, "and you'd be over here." He sat on Harv's lap and rested his back against Harv's chest. "This is better." Two strong arms wrapped around his middle as he opened the book. "As long as you don't get crumbs on my head that is." Finn said as he noticed Harv reach for one of the sandwiches out of the corner of his eyes. "Once upon a time..."

-

As the evening rolled around, there was still no fresh fallen snow, and Harv could see Finn struggling to maintain a chipper air. The best Harv could do was offer him wine and good company. A few anecdotes about his peers mucking up during training was enough to have Finn in stitches. He only hoped Finn would have the sense not to shovel the stories off into his next song.

"So, he has us traipsing around the woods right? Looking for this big ferocious dragon." Harv said and downed his goblet. "It's shadow crawling up the mountain side with every sunrise just to disappear without a trace, and the sound it made. It was like the firing of a canon mixed with a hungry donkey, absolutely awful. So, we finally track it down and it's this big." He held his hands five inches apart. "This fuzzy lizard looking thing, the noisiest little monster, but clearly harmless. It's hard to feel threatened by something you can accidentally sit on." Harv spread out his arms wide and accidentally knocked over a glass. "Then he goes, that's the baby. The mother must be nearby!" 

They were sitting on the floor now. Hardly enough room on the narrow fancy couch for two men to roll around laughing at each other. Finn sopped up the spill with a tea towel. 

"I still wanted that." 

"That one was mine." Finn giggled. "Go on, what happened next?"

"Right, so he's got everyone armed and ready for action, but I'm looking at this noisy thing thinking, that's not a sound an animal makes to call for its momma. Too angry sounding." He tried to tap his temple, but missed every time. "That's when I see em." He made a circle with his thumb and finger to look through. "Lil puff balls in a den below the tree, and they were moving around up and down. So I told em- well you can't tell knights anything. I asked him, don't you think those are the babies right there? Does he listen? Nooooo, he tries to scare the thing off so the 'mom' doesn't spot us hiding and it attacks him. It attacks only him, pulling out his hair and stumbling head over rump over a stump into a different one's nest. There were at least five of them in the clearing." He fumbled for the bottle to refill his glass. "He had a bald patch on the side of his head for weeks, serve him right if you ask me." When he looked up smiling at him thoughtfully. "What?"

"What was the name of the knight you served again."

"Oh gosh, mouthful of a name, no one could get it right. Didn't want to bother..." Harv rolled the thought in his head a bit. "Most of us called 'em Sir Sadnerd."

"...Radner perhaps?" Finn's smile grew. "Darren Radner?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Such a little ponce." Harv shook his head.

"Okay, stop me if you've heard this one." Finn scooted in a little closer and whispered. "I heard that they found a woman in one of his platoons."

Emet.

Harv felt a sobering chill settle in from his scalp to the pit of his stomach. So, word had already traveled faster than he had. Finn was none the wiser, gossiping with the same glee he had when talking about circlets and who held petty grudges against one another in the court. They hadn't been there, hadn't seen someone get thrown less than half dressed in the snow in front of their fellow soldiers with a blade at their throat.

"Harv, tell Rhodri I'm sorry will ya?"

"Yeah, I know right." Finn, content with Harv's silence, forged ahead with the story. "She got accused of being a witch or something, very scandalous. But... the soldiers mutinied against him and let her escape. I guess the leader of their little coup got the boot afterward. Sound familiar?" 

"Yes Finn." Harv went to down another glass but was blocked by Finn's hand.

"You want to know how I know that?" Finn batted his lashes. "Well, other than being my personal tailor, she was also the princess's handmaiden." Harv nearly dropped his goblet. That he hadn't known. "Oh yes, she had the princess's personal stamp of approval to enlist too, and the princess was furious when she found out her royal decree had fallen on deaf ears. I'm sure you can imagine how frustrated she was to find out the person responsible for saving her dear friend's life had also gone missing." Finn leaned against the couch with a smug grin. "Last I heard, she was desperate to get any information on his whereabouts since she wants him present for Darren's punishment. Oh and that's not even the best part! Guess what his punishment's supposed to be, just guess."

"I don't know Finn." Nobles didn't usually get severe punishments for lapses in judgment or misunderstandings. It just wasn't how the world worked. He was mostly glad the story didn't sully Emet's reputation; they were a good soldier.

"Go on, guess."

"A fine?" Harv sighed. Finn shook his head. "Come on Finn, just tell me." Finn scurried in close and cupped his cheeks.

"He's supposed to get his knighthood stripped from him and..." Finn kissed his forehead. "Watch the soldier he fired get knighted." 

Harv's mind went blank.

"No." Harv watched Finn emphatically shake his head yes. "No way." Finn let go of his face and embraced him fully. "There's no way the other knights would permit-" Finn pulled back to look at him.

"Shiel has been trying to get engaged to Emet for over five years now, he's just as pissed about what Darren did, I assure you." Finn said. He lovingly stroked Harv's cheek. "Harvey, you're going to be a knight." Harv gently pushed Finn away so he could stand. "Harvey?" 

"Is this some kind of joke?" Harv grabbed the wine and drank straight from the bottle.

"...no..." Finn pulled his arms close to himself. This wasn't the reaction he'd been hoping for.

"A lie then." 

"Harvey, if I was going to lie to you, I'd tell you something wretched, so you'd stay." The thought had crossed Finn's mind the minute he suspected Harv might have been the soldier from the rumors. It would have been so easy. It just wouldn't have been fair to Harv and equally heavy on his heart. It wouldn't feel as good if Harv chose to stay out of fear.

"Please do." Harv looked at him, a broken man. "Say it's awful out there, or say I still haven't repaid you yet, or that you need me here with you. Give me a reason I have no choice but to stay."

"Harvey, I want you here, isn't that enough?" Finn gently took the empty bottle from his hands. "You're welcome to stay, I've made that much clear." 

"It'll be six against one." Harv pulled Finn in close. "There'll be something they need me to do, there's always something. And then another something and another. It was supposed to be over when Big was old enough to care from himself, but there's going to be another baby. I felt guilty enough up and leaving when it was just for a few years, it was the hardest thing I ever did." 

"What other baby? You said-" 

"My brothers."

"Right..." Finn rubbed Harv's back, still locked in the man's arms. "Well, it's not like you'd never see them again, you'd still be close. They'll be okay." He could feel Harv shake his head 'no' into his shoulder.

"If I go back... I'm afraid I won't be able to leave again, even if I wanted to." He pressed a clumsy kiss against the shell of Finn's ear. "You're so beautiful and infuriating all at the same time. If I could just take you with me..." Finn wriggled to loosen his hold. The playful tone Harv spoke with was a bit jarring coming from a man who just a few seconds ago had been close to tears. "I know, you don't have a single pair of decent walking shoes, but I could carry you! Yeah! Once you meet everyone, they'll see what a treasure you are, and they'll understand why I have to stay here." He let go of Finn ready to go upstairs. "I'll help you pack and-" Finn held Harv's hand to keep him from going.

"Harv, we talked about this, I can't leave." Finn said. He frowned to himself, knowing that for Harv it would be easier if he came out of hiding. "Especially not tomorrow, with as much as we'd been drinking, one look at the morning snow would give us a massive headache-" He saw Harv's shoulder's slump. "You noticed it too, didn't you? The storm stopped." Harv sighed and sat down on the couch, looking up with guilt and sorrow. "And I suppose you couldn't possibly leave tomorrow if you were, say, hungover?" Finn counted the goblets in his head, realizing it would be easier to count bottles. It didn't matter that Harv was stroking his hand with his thumb, he'd been trying to black out all night. "Tradition be damned, you were looking for another excuse to stay."

"Are you mad?"  Harv pressed a small kiss to the back of Finn's hand and nuzzled it with his forehead. "You sound mad."

"And you sound drunk." Finn wanted to be mad. He knew he should be mad, especially if Harv needed 'real reasons' to stay when he clearly wanted to. "Too drunk to be making plans like introducing me to your parents and carrying me miles in the snow."

"I knew it." Harv pouted.

"What was your first clue? The second or third bottle of red?" Finn kind of wanted his hand back.

"You didn't say it back." Harv slowly let go of Finn's hand. "I told you I loved you, you still haven't said it back."

"You said you did things for love, you never said it was for me." Finn tried to argue, but even in his own ears the reasoning sounded hollow. "There's a reason for that too. We've only known each other a few days; we have our own lives outside of all this. Lives that clearly do not mesh well together, no matter how nice it would be if they did." He hated sounding over emotional and vulnerable, especially now. "One of us would have to compromise, and I'm not interested in being on everyone's hit list again just because some handsome stranger came into my life for a week. I have to stay here where it's safe."

"But I love you."

"And you're more than welcome to stay, I've said that several times." Finn felt Harv tug him closer, and Finn stumbled into the couch, half in Harv's lap. "It's not that I don't like you." Harv's other hand traveled up Finn's thigh, trying to coax him further into his lap.

"I love you."

"You're drunk." Well, technically they both were, but Harv was slipping faster into nonsensical speech. "And if you really loved me, that would be enough for you to have to stay, but even half gone you have doubts."

"I. Love. You." Harv stared at him, no more tricks or wandering hands. He waited patiently, as if Finn had been asked a question. Finn squeezed the arm Harv had been using to pull him into his lap. Saying things like this out loud would just make it worse, he knew that. 

"I love you too." What he hadn't wanted to know was if that wasn't enough to get Harv to stay. The warrior was able to sneak in a kiss before Finn released Harv's arm and put a hand to Harv's lips. "But you're still too drunk to be making decisions. We should go to sleep."

"Stop being right." Harv scowled back like a child. "...fine... but I'm gonna miss you."

"You can still sleep in my room if you want." Finn didn't want to think about if Harv had meant something else by that. "I'd prefer it, actually... If that's okay with you." Harv nodded and scooped him up in his arms bridal style. "That's all we're doing." Finn squeaked, a little surprised Harv was still steady on his feet. "J-just to be clear."

"I know, I know." Harv started to march up the stairs with him. "See? You're super easy to carry, totable, I could do it. It's only three or four miles." He made it to Finn's bedroom with ease. Finn decided rather than argue with him now, it was best to catalog everything to harp on him about tomorrow. 

"If you throw up on my floor, you're dead to me."

[jjk-anime-horray]

Mr. Steal your Girl

Suguru Getou x Reader

Summary: After Getou catches Gojo cheating on you, he finally becomes fed up with his bestfriend's bullshit. So, he does the mature thing, he goes and tell you what happened, and makes you his in the process.

Note: I had this thought in my mind forever, so I naturally write it down to preserve it. Please take this offering as my first unholy sacrifice to the Jujutsu Kaisen fandom. Please enjoy!

Warnings: This is NSFW! This is Smut! Please don't read it if you are uncomfortable with those things. Cheating (from Gojo), Sex, fluff, Reader is Female and or has Female anatomy , and Angst (Cross posted on my ao3).

When Suguru Getou, your boyfriend's best friend, and your good friend came knocking on your door after 8:00, you honestly didn't know what to expect. Was he injured? Your line of work was notorious for that. So, when you peered through your key hole to see his slender eyed face distraught, your first instinct is to open the door.

"Suguru what happened?" You say in a lower and mellow tone of your normal voice as to display concern. "Are you hurt?"

"No no, you got the wrong idea!" His black maned body lifted in his hand in a slight waving motion as a common action to calm someone down. "However, I have something to tell you. Can I come in?"

"Of course you're my friend, and I'm always here for you! Next time can you give me a little warning will ya?"

"Yeah, of course (Y/N)." He said while moving his body through your apartment's entrance, and swiftly plopping himself on your couch next to your body, already sitting there.

"Oh!" You say remembering something. "Do you want anything to drink or eat? I've got some left over pizza in the fridge if you want it! Hold on let me just go get it."

You quickly push your hands onto the cloth underneath you to lift your weight off of the couch, only to have your arm be weighted down gently by the man next to you.

"You don't need to get me anything (Y/N). Plus, I don't have an appetite right now anyway. Can you sit back down I really need to tell you this?"

He looked you dead in the eyes. Onyx eyes swirled with not their usual playfulness, but uncertainty and concern instead. Triggering you to sit back down on the fabric below you with the same feelings.

"What's wrong Suguru?"

"Well you see....." Words fell dry in his mouth. How was he supposed to tell you this without making you cry? He never wants to make you unhappy. He especially doesn't want you to cry because his friend is skank, and a piece of shit.

He looked over to you with sadness in his eyes, swirling in them with glassiness around the iris'. He thought about all of the times he looked to see you so happy with him, lips letting out gorgeous laughter, mouth curling into a beautiful smile, and your excitement burst at something with joy. But then his mind went to the blonde bouncing on Satoru's cock, moans leaving her mouth that were supposed to be coming out of yours for him. While she was pretty, she didn't nearly compare to you, and while she was sexy he couldn't even be slightly attracted at the thing bound to ruin your relationship. It angered him, enraged him, that his friend was stupid enough to hurt or give up something like you. However, his stupidity gave him a a direct chance to finally get what he wanted. I guess he could thank his dumb platinum blonde of a friend for that.

"Satoru is cheating on you."

"What?" You said, but you could hear him completely fine. It was out of disbelief.

"Look (Y/N), I'm really sorry. This probably isn't how you wanted to fine out. I just walked in on it, and I couldn't just not tell you when I was, you know.... there."

More and more consoling words spilt from his mouth in an effort to comfort you, but you cease to even register them as you started crying. Salty tears started to trickle from your eyes, and down your cheeks. You felt embarassed, jealous, and sad all at the same time. You knew of his past behavior, why did you expect anything to change?

"Wow, I'm an complete idiot."

"What (Y/N)?! Don't say shit like that! That's completely untrue. You're talented, funny, you-"

"Suguru, I knew of his past behaviors, I let my feelings ignore them, and I expected him to change. I'm a fool for that."

Why would you think he would change. Fuck, you gave your heart to the wrong person. You should have known! The trickle of droplets cascading down your face only started to grow even more. You didn't want to be crying in front of your friend. You didn't want to be crying at all! This was your fault for failing to see that people hardly change.

To Suguru it was heartbreaking to see you in a condition like this. If Gojou was anyone other than his best friend he would have beaten him to a pulp already.

"Hey, Suguru." You say, voice cracking as you tried to hold it together, and peaking your head up slightly from the position pressed into your knees.

"Yeah (Y/N)?"

"Could you give me a minute to cry this out, alone? I don't like you seeing me like this."

"Okay. I'll go into the other room, but I'm not leaving you completely alone when you're emotionally distressed."

"Thanks Guru'." You say as he left to go into the other room, away from your water works.

"Anything for you (Y/N)."

With him finally gone could finally let it all out, and truly just let yourself cry. Now, not having to worry about embarrassing yourself in front of your friend. Your eyes turned puffy the more you let out your pent up emotions. The same eyes turned redder the more you let out your anger because of the situation (through your tears). Red eyes turned your shirt wet, and completely soaked from the water streaming down your face. However, the more you let it out, the more you started to let it go. Yes it hurt, but no it wasn't something you couldn't recover from. Yes you were losing your friend, but no you weren't losing Suguru from this because he wouldn't be here right now if he was siding with Gojou. You hands drifted to your phone to text your best friend, Shoko, what happened.

Gojo cheated on me. Your fingers glided to press into the screen.

You waited fo couple of minutes, well only one, until a notification lit up your screen in response to your text.

You're kidding me

That son of a bitch, want me to murk him?

Do you need me to come over?

Multiple messages came bombarding in one go. You were glad to see that she was as pissed as you were. Making you halt your crying into snickering and laughter at your friend's eagerness.

No you don't need to come over

I know u r working, and Guru' is already here

He's the one who told be

Another light flashed onto your screen.

Okay, just tell me if you need anything

Luv you babes!

She never failed to make you smile, even if she was sneaking a smoke. In which that you hated.

Luv u too

"I heard laughter so I assumed if it was safe to come back in."

A certain man came around the corner with a glass of water and cloth his hands.

"Yeah you're right, Shoko is the best sometimes."

You felt a large weight lower half of the couch, coincidently lifting your eye level up to be more on par with a certain pair of slender ones.

"I brought you some water, crying drains a lot out of you, and I don't want you to get dehydrated."

"Thanks Guru, it means a lot."

You take the cup from his hand. Your fingers met with his fingers and the glass as you shifted the water from his to your hands. Then to lifting it to your lips you take a large gulp of it. Causing a little drop of water to dribble down your chin in the process of your refreshment.

As the water dripped down your chin you felt a thumb connect with your check, slowly making it's way down your skin to your lips and chin to imprison the that had escaped onto it's creases.

"Hey (Y/N) I have a damp cloth right here to help with the swelling of your eyes. Can you close them for a sec?"

"Sure."

With your eyes now closed you felt a cool presence over your eyes, but it did more than help the swelling in your eyes. It also calmed you down, but you knew it wasn't the cloth that was calming you down. It was the male pressing it gently into your face. And the one that gently removed it from your eyes when the right amount of time had passed.

Unveiling your eyes you look to Suguru who was currently placing the items he had gotten for you on to the table in front of the two of your.

"Guru' "

"Yeah (Y/N)?"

"Come here."

You said come here, but you didn't actually wait for him to move as you want to him first enveloping him in your grasp with a hug. Your head burying into his shoulders and chest.

"Thank you Suguru, for everything."

"No problem (Y/N), are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah I'm okay, I just wish I could forget about him."

"I could make you forget about him."

"What?"

"I said" Hot breath fanned across your ear, while you didn't know if it was the intimate position that the two of you were in, or it was the black haired man that was unbelievable gorgeous talking that sent shivers down your spine. "I could make you forget."

"Please (Y/N), let me make you forget." That last sentence was the last one needed to shift the mood completely. What was a light hearted one now turned heavy from the impending building lust that the two of you secretly shared for the longest time.

You felt hot lips trail down your neck, slow kisses dancing across the expanse of your skin down, only to quickly trail back up to your ear, and then your jaw. Wetness was placed right next to your lips, but not onto them.

Onyx eyes pierced into yours looking for a awnser. They swirled with want, desire, and love as they looked at your right in front of you. It was so intoxicating that you could help yourself from being completely lost in them.

"Suguru, please make me forget." You let out with a needy whine, wanting to get lost in his lips more than anything.

Then predatory orbs locking in on it's prey, and he pounced onto you locking you into a seering kiss as lips collided, and you were pinned under him.

His lips glued themselves to yours, hot, needy, and loving. They constantly alternated from hot, lustful, rushed kisses to slow, romantic, loving one that were offering you all he had to offer. You missed the feeling of them on you when he pulled away.

"You want to forget (Y/N)? I'll make you forget that that ungrateful bastard ever touched you, and that all you can think about it is my fat cock inside of you. You want that don't you?" Finishing his sentence he attached his slips to the sweat spot on you neck, causing you to silt your head, and grind your clothed sex onto the knee pinning you down to the couch.

"Please."

"Great, but lets get you undressed first, I want to see all of you when I ruin you. Strip for me, I bet you can do that angel can't you?" To allow you to put on a show for him he sat back onto the couch, staring at you with a ferocious hunger that was about to be fulfilled.

Obediently you sat yourself up onto the couch, and hooked your arms onto the bottom of your shirt to reveal your barren body with glorious feature to him.

"Fuck princess, no bra? Dirty girl~" He latched himself onto your breasts. Caressing, pinching, pulling with his right hand on one breast, and his mouth, sucking, teasing, and squeezing the other playful mound of flesh. He slowed his ruthless pace to speed in up then slow it down, again, again, and again. Alternating which breast got which part of his body, and it was driving you insane. And you couldn't help Letting out little whispers, whines, and groans as he did.

"Guru, stop teasing me please."

"I'll stop teasing you when you when I stop finding you amazing, because fuck I could play with you like this forever."

"Guru, please touch my cunt, please!" You said, letting out a whine, and bucking to his erection trapped in his sweats as you did so.

"Using dirty words I see. Princesses shouldn't talk like that darling, but who am I to not give pleasure to someone who's so honest about her needs. I'll give you what you want baby, lift your hips for me."

With no reason to reject his off you do was he says, allowing him to slip off your pants, and little white panties in one go. Giving him a full view of your glistening sex dripping with arousal from teasing. Begging to be touched as it pulsated.

"Wet already darling?"

You gasped airily, as you felt him insert a much need finger into your dying cunt. Finally giving your pussy the attention it it needed with big thick milky fingers.

"Fuck baby you're so tight, I'm going to have to prepare you to make sure I don't hurt you because I would hate to see that."

Speeding up his finger he forced for of it into your pussy lips stretching you out in the process. Pumping strongly with fingers curling up towards your womb he hit all of the right spots inside your walls as he added another finger. Causing you to squirm and wiggle under his grasp pleasing his eyes with the amazing sight.

Feeling bad that you were being given all of the attention, you slowly reach to try to touch him, only to have your wrist snatched up with his other free hand.

"Bad baby, shouldn't you know know not to touch people without their permission? Naughty."

He brought the soft curve of your hand up to his mouth to give it a tender kiss. Only for seconds later to bring into down to your clit, and forcefully guiding you hand to out pressure on the little sensitive flesh button causing as he move your hand to circle it.

This building burning pressure turned to be too much to handle as you felt a familiar sensation burn in your lower stomach as your body prepared itself to cum. Fluttering around his fingers in the process.

"Do you need to cum?" Suguru said while gazing his eyes into yours, speeding up his finger even more than you could imagine. Rending you speechless as you gave him a rapid nod in response.

"You have to use your words baby."

"Please Suguru, please let me cum!"

"Do it baby."

The sensation bursted through your lower body as you finally got the release you deserved. Suguru encased your lips into a lustful action as you whined into his mouth pouring slick all over his fingers.

Greedily while looking right at you he swirled his knuckles into his mouth a lapped your juices with delight, and a grin on his face pleased with his work.

He looked at you with a grin on his face, and a naughty twinkle in his eye that made you know what he was going to say next while slightly pulling down his sweat and boxers to reveal a juicy cock. Long, thick, trimmed, clean. Who new your Ex boyfriend's best friend was packing more than he was? I made you wiggle with anticipation. "I think you're ready baby for my cock, do you want it?"

"Yes please, fuck me now, in this pussy right here, I want to feel you so badly!"

"Someone's eager." He said letting out a heart chuckle. "Good thing you are because so am I."

Before you could even say anything he slipped you onto your stomach and slammed into you awaiting cunt all in one go. Affectively making you let out of scream.

"Suguru!" You let out with a yelp if pleasure, and surprise from the new invading stretch.

"Sorry I couldn't wait, fuck your so tight, if I had known I would have done this sooner."

He sunk himself fully into your pussy, then stalled waiting for your to adjust to the stretch of his member. Since you two were bearbacking he could feel every pulse of your pussy as it tried to accommodate his length. And he fucking loved.

Not being to contain himself any longer he pulled himself half way out, then slammed himself back in to see all of your fuck about expressions again and to hear you whine. God, he was going to get used to this.

Gripping your ass he made himself a slow but deep pace into your womenhood once again. He continued this again, and again, and again. Until he found himself speeding up and he drilled harder into your sex, loving he way he name founded when it was being screamed from your lips.

You found yourself having to try to control your breathing as to it not being completely blown away by the main raining to you from behind. His onslaught on your cunt made you abosulety breathless. You felt your pussy contracting the more you thought about the man pleasuring you, how did you not see all of him before this.

But your thoughts were ripped away as you felt a large hand grab your jaw forcing you to look up into predatory onyx eyes. The eye contact as he was hitting it from behind, having his balls pound into your clit, and your G-Spot throughly abused made you pussy quiver in anticipation of your release.

"(Y/N) are close to summing." He said. while completely continuing to fuck you without the slightest pause.

"Yes, umm hmm!" You say nodding as you still looked into his eyes, knowing his loved the contact.

"Fuck....." He said smirking at your wrecked form beneath him "Great." Then he took his hand off of your next to harshly rub your clit, causing you too spill your release over water than you. realized. Making you see white fuzz through the orgasm as he fucked you though it.

Now it was your turn to listen to his moans as seconds later he finished his thick cum on your ass as he flopped in exhaustion shortly after that onto his arms to entrap you under him into the couch cashing your breath.

Panting, Suguru flipped you over to sit you on his lap, curling your legs around his waist, sitting you up to face his intense gaze once again.

"I'm going to go clean you up okay." But just as he's about to lift the two fo you up you stop him momentarily.

"Suguru, will stay with me please?

"I thought that was a given, of course I'm staying, I'm going to run bath."

Placing a kiss on your forehead he brought you to your bathroom, and cleaned the two of you up. Slowly cleaning everything that may have been dirtied, caressing everything on your body, he held you in such a way that it just felt right to be like it.

And sure enough he was holding you in his arms in your sheets the next morning with no intentions of letting you go. Or letting you hear the door ring as his sorry ass of a bestfriend came to offer you an apology.

This was my first smut! How did I do you guys?

Part Two

[erensproudsimp]

Work out

Armin Arlert x reader Oneshot

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Summary : I woke up, thought of gym sex and wrote it

Word Count : 2.3k

"Come on y/n, going to the gym is not that bad plus Mikasa would be joining us too", Annie encouraged you.

"Working out seems so much of trouble that I certainly don't want to partake as I'd rather spend my energy to binge watch anime", you replied flatly eyes not moving away from your phone.

Snatching your phone Annie said with a serious face, "Y/n how do you expect to pull any of your anime crushes looking like a potato? "

"Hey! Give me my phone back and even if I do look like a potato Sasha would love me and don't bring my husbands in this topic!" you ran after her to retrieve your phone.

"Alright then, I'll pay you a KFC meal if you come for one day to at least try it out", Annie suggested.

"I don't know why you're so adamant about taking me to the gym but if there's free food involved, I'm in", you gave in.

"I just want you to stay fit you know and we're starting tomorrow so go to sleep", your roommate said preparing her gym bag.

"Whaaat nooo", you complained unaware of the impact that a stranger you're going to meet will have have on you.

The next morning both Annie and you hopped into Mikasa's car to go to the private gym owned by Mikasa's family and family friends.

"That's actually a relief to be able to work out without fearing strangers looking at you", you reassured yourself.

"Yeah it's gonna be really comfortable and I also would like to introduce you to some of my friends y/n, I know you're gonna like them", Mikasa added.

"Well can't say I'm not excited to meet them", you replied looking at your phone reading a fanfiction.

Couple of minutes later you reached your destination. From the outside the building looked very modern with transparent glasses through which you could see the inside and barely any life around made the place peaceful.

When you went inside, Mikasa took you both to the changing room where you left your stuff on the shelf to change your outfit.

Putting your towel on your shoulders followed by Annie, Mikasa led the way to her friends who were lifting weights.

"Hey guys", Mikasa said to get their attention, "This is y/n and Annie and this is Eren and Armin", she said pointing at each person respectively.

"Pleasure to meet you two", Armin said as Eren nodded with him.

You swore that the moment you saw the blonde boy, your heart skipped a beat. He was so effortlessly gorgeous.

"Same here, hope to have a good gym buddy relation with you two", Annie replied as you were lost in your reflection. Snapping yourself from your thoughts, you agreed with her.

After that y'all left the boys to let them do their previous activities and went to train yourselves. With your unfit body you were tired from the first exercise itself and was laying on the ground trying to catch your breath.

You failed to understand how could Mikasa and Annie keep going but you were not going to give up and decided to look at it as a new challenge for yourself.

Picking yourself up, you went to do something easy as a starter which was skipping ropes.

Little did you know that the blonde guy had been sneaking peeks at you from time to time smiling to himself.

One hour later, everyone decided to take a break to refuel their energy.

"So, what are we going to eat", you questioned.

" Why not soup? I've been craving miso soup for a while," Armin proposed, everyone settling on soup.

Getting into the car, Eren drove us to the nearest fast food restaurant. Inside you sat between Annie and Armin. Filled with anxiety of Armin being so close to you, you fidgeted with your hands to keep yourself stable. Armin noticed your restlessness and asked if you were okay but you couldn't possibly tell him that you were crushing hard on him so you just replied with a 'I'm fine' and concentrated on your food.

"What are your majors?" Eren asked you and Annie to make conversation.

"I am doing engineering and y/n's an art student explaining why she's so lazy", Annie responded.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Annie, I am not lazy", you said passive-aggressively looking at Annie with murder in your eyes.

"Says the girl who could barely run to take her phone from me yesterday", she coughed smirking.

"No- I - bye-", you stammered making Armin erupt into a fits of laughter. His laugh gave the impression as though angels came down on earth to bestow you with blessings which in this case was the cute sound of his voice. You didn't realise that you were staring at him until Armin spoke, "Is there something on my face?"

"Yes," you said casually swipping the little ketchup stain near his mouth with a tissue. His cheeks were a light pink colour because of your action and he thanked the heavens for not letting his friends noticing what just happened.

"Th-thank you", he bashfully thanked.

"Sure", you said looking away to hide your blush.

Finishing your meals, y'all returned to the gym to continue training then took your leave after two hours. Saying your byes to the boys, Mikasa gave you both a ride to your dorm.

Throwing your body on your bed you heaved a sigh of relief that you were able to survive this first day of going to the gym.

"Tired already y/n ? Too bad we're going to do this routine everyday", Annie commented.

"I guess time to fill the fridge with energy drinks", you jumped out of bed to buy bundles of different brands of said drink.

The only thing that would be keeping you going about working out was that you were able to see Armin everyday.

Due to your classes running late one day you reached the gym at 06 00 pm. Everyone was still there; you greeted them and went to use the treadmill. At around half past seven your friends were hungry and decided to go to a nearby takeout to bring food to the gym because you didn't want to come out of exhaustion.

"You guys go ahead, I would keep y/n company", Armin told them.

Soon you were left alone with Armin and not knowing what to say out of shyness you excused yourself to the bathroom.

There you freshened up yourself to make yourself look more presentable to your crush. Luck was in your stars as you were wearing leggings that gave your ass a nice curve with a matching colour sportsbra.

When you came out, you saw that Armin was missing. You assumed that he too went to the restroom and decided to do squats. A little while later the man indeed returned from the wc. His breath was caught in his throat when he saw you.

He came up to you and asked if you needed any help regarding your training.

"Actually I do, would you assist me in doing sit ups?" you requested.

"Yeah sure, I'll hold your shoes while you're doing them," Armin accepted.

Laying your body on the mat, you watched Armin going in front of you to your feet and held them down. You began to lift your body with your hands on the back of your head as you realised how close your faces were being when you were raised up. You never realised how broad his shoulders were until then and you gulped hard.

"How much do you plan on doing?" Armin asked.

"I'm setting a limit of thirty but let's see if I manage to exceed it." He nodded. Gosh, how does someone manage to look cute and hot at the same time?!

At your 15th sit-up you lifted up your body to make eye contact with him as you were with the previous sit-ups but this time it lasted longer because you stayed still. Both of you gazed into the eye of each other without saying a word your faces becoming closer. You didn't realise what you were doing. It wasn't long until both of your lips touched each other. When your senses were brought back to you, you pulled back so quickly. For a second you saw a frown on Armin's face.

"OMG! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do this, I swear," you apologized frenzily.

"It's okay, I don't mind at all," Armin just chuckled at your reaction. He came closer and tucked your hair to your ear.

"Have you ever realised how beautiful you were?" he whispered in your ear making all your blood rush to your head.

"I - I- mmph," you were cut off by Armin

colliding his mouth with yours. He sucked on your lower lip asking permission to let his tongue enter your mouth. You opened it a little only for him to stuck in his whole muscle.

You left out a small moan feeling his tongue roaming everywhere while his hand untied your hair and was playing with it.

He had the most tender lips that you ever felt in your life. Giving you a forehead kiss, he held your face in his hands stroking it with his thumb.

You crawled to sit on his lap as he continued to shower you with affection. His head pats were so gentle, you were melting under his touch. He bowed to gain access to your neck and gave it a subtle lick and then proceeded to find your sweet spot kissing you everywhere. A small mewl left your lips when he kissed a certain spot. The man was proud of himself to have found it and attacked it with hickeys. At this point you were shaking on his thighs and in his embrace.

Your hands reached the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off him. His sweaty body glowed in the light yet he looked so heavenly. You couldn't help but lick his collarbones leaving your saliva on his skin.

The fear of getting caught by your friends during this sinful moment turned you on.

Armin's hand gave your ass a tender squeeze before making you lay your whole body on the mat as he left a trail of kisses from your neck your stomach. He grabbed your waist to kiss your on your bellybutton.

"Is it okay if I remove it?" he said hinting at your leggings. You lifted your lower body to help him remove it and threw it away. He gave your core a kiss then carried you in bridal style to place you on the bench press.

He spread your legs and buried his face between them. You wouldn't have never expected such an innocent face to do such unholy things to your body in your life. He sucked your clit which sent electrics all throughout your body. He ate you out as though you were the most tastiest meal he's ever had. You crushed his head with your thighs but he didn't seem to mind that as he continued doing his job. You were pulling his hair so hard screaming his name making sure people passing nearby could hear how good he was making you feel.

His soft hands ran through your thighs making small circle motions on them to soothe you.

"Ar-Armin, I-,"

"It's okay love you can spill it on my face, I want every single drop down my throat," Armin panted.

What he said set off a trigger and the knot in your stomach snapped. All your juices went on Armin's face and he ensured to have swallowed everything.

He retreated away from your opening swipping your cum with his fingers and licking them off. While you were collecting your breath, Armin took off his sweatpants and let his hardened dick free.

"Do you mind if I -," he insinuated with his dick at your entrance.

"Please Armin don't hesitate," you were practically begging him. You expected him to slide it in but instead he was stroking your folds with his swollen member. This felt so good it sent you in a rollercoaster of immense pleasure. You could feel his veins pulsating against your own pulsating clit.

While he was caressing your cunt, his hands went to grab your boobs and fondled them.

His up and down motion continued as he was mixing his precum with your wetness.

Your overwhelming neediness pushed you to grind on him as he was moving so slowly. With instinct you lifted your hips as shivers were sent through your spine. Noticing this Armin picked up speed and with his hand rubbed your clit hard. He bent over to give you a kiss on your nose then to make out with you.

"Ah-ah, y/n-I'm going to cum," Armin moaned.

"Cum with me Armin," you breathed.

Suddenly he picked up more speed and thrusted faster. His dick was moving so quick on you, the lewd sound of your pussy's liquids filled the gym. Armin held your hands and intertwined your fingers. He let out a grunt as he came on your stomach and you on the bench.

He looked at you with such love in his eyes and reached out to wipe your tears and kissed your hands.

He fetched your leggings while he also cleaned the bench leaving no marks of this incident. Since your legs were shaking so much you could barely walk, Armin carried you to the bathroom.

After you went to pee, he made you sit on a stool and he tied your hair back in a ponytail. Hugging you from the back he asked, "Are you feeling okay now beautiful or do you need anything?"

"Water?" you replied.

"Anything for you," he went to fetch the requested item.

Just at that moment your friends returned.

You thanked the universe for not making them arrive while you were making love with Armin and you kept your cool acting as though nothing happened.

Thus, this was the start of a wonderful relationship.

End.

Thank you for reading. :)

[join-the-joywrite]

Take my hand (take my whole life too)

"We played the Oprheum!"

The bouncing hug only lasted a second or two. While the boys regained a significant amount of lost strength, Julie's was slowly dwindling. She was, after all, only human and was out of home way later than usual. Her own internal clock seemed to be screaming at her to at least sit down.

Instead, she went down with the boys as her foot caught on a cable and she stumbled to the floor.

Alex made for a soft landing, one for which her apology was littered with giggles. Alex didn't mind. The slight pain was welcome in comparison to Caleb's jolts. Not to mention, he'd wanted to hug Julie ever since she cried during her not-so-private performance of her mother's song weeks ago. So he lay on the floor and squished Julie tight, only bringing forth more giggles.

"Hey, my turn!" Reggie yelled, rolling over and dropping himself half on Julie, fully on Alex.

"Oof," Luke commented, "that looks like it hurt."

"It did," Alex wheezed, adjusting himself to get used to the additional weight.

As one, all three of them held out an arm to Luke, who didn't hesitate to scoot closer and join the cuddle pile. Head on Alex's shoulder, he was right in front of Julie. He gave her a smile that, had she been standing, would've probably made her lose her balance. She gave him one back.

"I like this," Reggie murmured contentedly, closing his eyes.

"Yeah," Julie agreed, relishing in the fact that she could finally hug her boys, "me too."

They stayed like that for a moment before Alex sat up with great difficulty, sending them all tumbling. "You're all very heavy," he stated by way of explaining.

Julie chuckled and moved to stand up. Luke and Reggie grabbed one of her arms each.

"Stay," both whined. Reggie continued with a grin. "I promise I can be a soft pillow for you."

"I'd love to, honestly, but Carlos is waiting for me. He wanted to talk to me and. . ."

"Fine," Reggie huffed, "but just know that I'm feeling incredibly hurt right now."

Julie ruffled his hair, grinning when he closed his eyes and smiled under her touch. "There's always tomorrow."

Still, all three of them pouted when Julie stood up and righted her clothes.

"I'll see you guys in the morning," she said before walking to the doors. She paused just before closing it. "Thank you, guys."

Alex gave her a wave. Luke smiled at her with a dopey expression. Reggie continued to pout.

Julie bounded up the pathway, gait as giddy as her smile. Carlos was waiting for her in the living room.

"Hey," she said, joining him on the couch.

"Hey."

"Whatcha got there?" she asked, nodding to the paper Carlos' hands were clamped around. "Another French dip recipe?"

Carlos shook his head. "You know what this is."

"I . . . really don't."

"Your band! They're--!" Carlos stopped and glanced around looking for their father. He leaned across the vouch and whispered to Julie with wide eyes, "ghosts."

Julie forced a laugh. "What? No, don't be silly, there's no such thing as ghosts."

Carlos lifted his eyebrows. "Okay, then explain this."

Julie picked up the little black and blue page Carlos tossed to the middle of the couch, recognising it as a CD insert. For Sunset Curve. Julie's own eyebrows lifted slightly, but she continued to pretend like she hadn't a clue what was happening. Then she turned it over and knew the jig was up. Staring up at her was all four members of Sunset Curve. Trevor, or Bobby, sure looked different when he was younger.

"They're just lookalikes--"

"I'd believe you if they were here and we could touch them."

The idea of being able to hold and hug her bandmates brought a warm smile back to Julie's face. She quickly wiped it off and shook her head. "Where'd you even find this?"

"In the box with the French dip recipe."

"Ah."

Carlos suddenly looked around wildly. Julie looked around too.

"What? What happened? What are we looking for?"

"Are they here?"

"What? No, they're in the garage--"

"Aha!" Carlos grinned and folded his arms. "You're a terrible liar, Jules."

"Wh-- I am not!"

"You are, though."

Julie jumped slightly and moved away from Reggie. Carlos noticed and immediately turned his gaze where Julie looked. "Are they here now? Tell them I say hello!"

Julie rolled her eyes. "They can hear you, dork -- and it's just Reggie."

"Tell him that I say hello."

"Reggie says hello," Julie said, heaving a resigned sigh. "What are you doing here? I told you I'd see you in the morning."

"I knew it," Carlos whispered to himself as he watched his sister talk to thin air. She looked, in all honesty, a bit insane, but at least he knew he was right about the ghosts. "So how does the ghost thing even work? How come I can't see him now, but we can all see them when you play?"

Julie whipped her head from Reggie to Carlos. "It -- I'll explain it all tomorrow, okay? It's been a long day. Reggie, go back to the studio. Carlos, to bed. It's late."

"All right," Carlos grumbled, sliding off the couch. He paused at the stairs and glanced back to see Julie scolding nothing. He hoped he'd get to officially met the guys. Julie made them seem fun.

"All right, little man, what do you wanna hear?"

Julie repeated the question to Carlos, letting him know that it was Reggie who asked.

Carlos thought for a moment. "I like the song you were singing before you got back into the music program."

"Oh, that's not our song, that -- that--"

"No, it's okay," Luke said, "I'm sure we can work something out."

"I -- okay."

Carlos sat down on the couch, almost bouncing with excitement as Julie took a seat behind the piano. The melody she played wasn't loud and energetic like their usual songs. It was quiet and gentle. Even when the band kicked in, they were much softer than usual. Julie hummed along where the words should be so that Carlos could easily speak to the boys.

"I'm--"

"Wait!" Carlos said, jumping off the couch, cutting Luke off. "I'm gonna guess based on what Julie says about you."

"You talk about us?" Luke asked with a teasing grin.

Julie hit a particularly furious note. "Shut up."

"Luke, Reggie and Alex," Carlos said, pointing to the correct band member as he went.

"Nice, little man!"

"This is so cool," Carlos whispered, eyes widening when Reggie paused playing and knelt down for Carlos to stick his hand through Reggie's arm. "Woah."

The band noticed that they were very intangible to Carlos.

Luke was only slightly disappointed when Carlos chose to focus his attention on Alex next.

"I like your hoodie."

"Thanks," Alex said, beaming. "Here, you wanna try?"

"Nah, I don't play music . . . okay, maybe a little."

Julie laughed softly as she watched Alex stand and then point where Carlos should hit. To keep them from disappearing, she continued the piano. Luke kept up with his guitar, grinning at her all the while. Their little musical conversation didn't go unnoticed by Reggie and Alex, who shared a knowing glance before Carlos grabbed Alex's attention.

"Have you ever accidentally stabbed your drums through with the sticks?"

"No, and please do not do that. We have no idea what it costs to repair dead instruments."

Carlos handed the drumsticks back to Alex and hopped off the chair. He stood in front of Luke, who knelt down as Reggie had done.

"So. You're the one my sister has a crush on."

"Carlos!" Jullie yelled, standing up and slamming down about five wrong keys.

"It was nice meeting you," Carlos yelled as he fled the garage.

With her face burning, Julie chased him down.

Alex and Reggie did their best not to laugh. They really did. But the shell-shocked look on Luke's face was hilarious. Even the withering glare Luke sent them didn't help quieten their laughter.

Up in the house, Ray Molina thought he was about to witness a wrestling match. "Julie! What are you doing?"

Julie, who suddenly realised there was no way to explain why she was attacking Carlos without either sounding like a lunatic or exposing the phantoms to her father, slowly slid down to the ground.

Carlos sat up on the couch. "Julie has a crush on Luke! Julie has a crush on Luke! Julie has a--"

"Oh, that is it!"

Perplexed, Ray watched Julie spring back on the couch with a war cry, followed by a pained, "How could you say that in front of him?!"

"Who's Luke?"

Carlos, seemingly determined to ruin Julie's life, broke out from her seeking arms and grinned at Ray. "The beanie boy in her little boyband--"

"CARLOS!"

"Julie," Ray said, a playful warning edge creeping into his voice as he folded his arms, "is there something you want to talk about?"

"No! Not at all! Excuse me, I have to go, um, rehearse!"

"Rehearse?" Ray exchanged an amused grin with Carlos. "What for?"

"Uh, future gigs? You know, since we played the Orpheum, we might get like a ton of calls and -- oh, like this, see?" As Julie held up her phone, both Ray and Carlos saw Flynn's name, but both decided to give Julie a small reprieve. In the meantime, Carlos could fill Ray in about this little crush business.

"You are not going to believe what just happened," Julie said, taking the stairs two at a time. "I took Carlos down to the garage to meet the guys, you know, 'cause he figured them out and he wanted to meet them, but then he told Luke I have a crush on him and I ended up chasing Carlos back to the house 'cause I didn't want to stay in the garage with Luke -- and Alex and Reggie -- and then my dad caught us fighting on the couch and then Carlos told my dad that I have a crush on Luke and my life is over!"

Flynn took a moment to respond. "Well . . . it's not like he's wrong, is he?"

"Flynn!" The wail that Julie threw into her pillow as she face planted her bed was equal parts betrayed and mortified. "How am I supposed to show my face at practice now? Can I come and bury my head in the sand at your place?"

Flynn laughed over the phone. "Grow up, Jules. You turned Nick down for this air cutie. Nick. You made your choice, now live with it."

"Flynn," Julie growled.

"Okay, okay. Look, you have to talk about it at some point. There's no way you can have that kind of fire on stage without some mutual attraction, and that's just Luke and Reggie. Then there's Luke and you. Jules, that's not even a fire anymore. There is something serious between you two and even though I still think it's a bad idea because he's, you know, air, I still think you need to talk about it before the wrong thing blows up."

"I know," Julie sighed. "I can handle Luke -- I think. It's my dad I'm worried about. How do I explain it all without him wanting to take me to a shrink?"

"Don't tell him anything. Show him. Maybe with a little less flair than you did with me. Play him something soft. Like . . . wasn't your mom in a couple of bands when she was our age? Maybe he'd know one of her songs. Maybe if you guys played something of hers, he'll have enough of his head around him to know it's all real, but enough of it will be in the clouds that it'll be easy to explain."

Julie stared at her phone, at the contact photo she had of Flynn. "You are a genius."

"I know. So, I was just calling to ask how you're holding up, but I'm going to assume everything is fine and the guys didn't cross over?"

"Yeah, no, it was really weird. Caleb's curse just sort of . . . broke, I guess, after I hugged them."

"Wait, hold up. You hugged them? What was that like, arms hanging in the air and hoping you were touching?"

Julie sighed a happy sigh. "We have a lot to talk about."

"I'll be there for dinner, no excuses -- and I expect your dad to know what's going on by then."

Julie rolled over and muffled a groan of despair into her pillow.

"Rough day?"

"It's only ten," Julie whined, lifting her head to give Alex her sad eyes.

Alex smiled. "You'll be fine -- I mean with your dad thing. With Luke on the other hand. . ."

Julie faux sobbed into her pillow, eliciting a soft chuckle from Alex, who sat down on her bed. He reached out for her shoulder then quickly drew back. Ever since Julie left the garage last night, it had been on his mind -- on all their minds -- that the hug was a one-time thing. He didn't want to confirm their fears if they were right.

"Hey, it's okay, Jules."

Julie let out a strangled wail that took Alex a few seconds of clamping his mouth shut to avoid laughing at the poor girl.

"I'm serious. You know, Luke, he . . . he's not great with feelings. He talks with music, with songs, with lyrics. He says the most important things when he looks at you on stage or at a rehearsal or when you're writing music together. He's just scared. I mean, we all are, but him most."

Julie sat up, hugging her wail-pillow to her chest. "You sound like you're speaking from experience."

Alex shrugged. "All I'm saying is, give him a chance -- and give Carlos a break. Honestly, he might have just done you a favour."

"I cannot believe you're taking Carlos' side."

"I'm not! I'm not, I'm just -- things are already complicated. How much worse can they get?"

Julie sighed. "I don't know. . ."

"Well, it's not like Luke does either. He's locked himself in the bathroom and Reg and I think he's been crying in the bathtub this whole time. We'd phase through the door but Luke can actually hit us if he wants to so. . ."

"Oh, and you think I can't?" Julie teased.

The two shared an amused grin, but beneath it, both were thinking the same thing. What if she couldn't?

"All right, I'll tall to him. But you and Reggie have to leave."

Julie ventured into the empty garage. She looked around for Reggie and Alex, unsure if she was relieved or not when she didn't find them. Up in the loft, they watched Julie disappear as she headed further in towards the bathroom door.

She knocked gently. "Luke?"

Silence.

"Come on, I know you're in there. Alex says you've locked yourself in and won't come out."

"I'm not Luke."

"Okay, but I need to talk to Luke so can you pass on the message for me?"

"I'll let him know."

Julie smiled, finding Luke's behaviour somewhat amusing. She leaned against the door. "I'm sorry about Carlos, he . . . he just really enjoys embarrassing me in front of people. I guess he figured since you guys can't really speak to other people, you'll have to talk to me and we'll all have to confront whatever he said so that's why he picked you to tease and --" Julie broke off with a sigh.

The bathroom stayed silent.

"And I'm sorry for running out after him. I was just . . . I was afraid of what you'd say."

When Luke spoke again, though his voice was much softer, it was also much clearer. As if he were closer to the door. "Why? Was he . . . telling the truth? Did you say something?"

Julie fidgeted with the sleeves on her yellow jersey. "No, but I'm not exactly the most subtle person and if you haven't noticed, I suck at lying."

Luke laughed softly. "Oh, we noticed. Everyone knows you're a horrible liar."

"Thanks," Julie said with a grin, "I mean, I really just came here to affirm what a bad liar I am."

"Ooh, sarcastic too."

"Shut up."

"Well?" Luke said after a moment of silence. "Was he?"

Julie leaned against the door and sighed. "What does it matter? It's not like anything would come of it."

"It does matter, Jules. It -- it matters because -- well, I mean, you matter. To me."

"I know," Julie said softly, turning so that her back was against the door. "It sucks, doesn't it?"

"Not all of it sucks," Luke murmured from the other side of the door. "We could find a way. You've already done so much that no other lifer ever has, as far as anyone knows. Why stop there?"

Julie laughed. "Your ambition is very inspiring, Luke, but everything has a limit."

"So find that limit, then. You'll never know how high it is if you stop now."

Julie felt something brush her hand and glanced down to see Luke's arm phasing through the door. She wanted to reach for his hand but she was afraid she'd just pass through him. So she made a joke instead.

"You do realise that a floating arm is way more unsettling than anything else ghosts have ever done, right?"

"How's a floating head?" Luke asked, pulling his hand back and leaning forward. He gave Julie a grin. "That's always scary, right?"

"Stop it, that's weird."

Neither noticed that Julie had managed to make physical contact with Luke until after she'd shoved him back into the bathroom.

"If I come out there, are you going to poke me in the eyes again?"

"First of all, I didn't," Julie said, appreciating that Luke wasn't reacting with the panicked excitement she felt. "Second of all, I'll try not to."

"Okay, but if you do, I'm really going back into the bathtub."

Julie twisted her fingers and wrung her wrists and bounced nervously as she waited for Luke to step through the door.

"Can we try that again?" Luke asked, holding out both hands to her.

The scene felt vaguely familiar to Julie, and everything came crashing down when her hands passed through Luke's once and then twice.

"You're nervous," Luke said softly, "there's no need to be. You didn't think last time. You weren't nervous."

"I can't. I don't know what it is--"

"Yes, you do. You know it's not us doing anything. You're the one with all the magic, Jules."

Nervous but now confident, Julie tried once again. She thought she'd be able to walk on water whe she felt Luke's hands close around her own. The smile he gave her was the usual dopey look she always noticed him wearing around her.

"See? It's all you."

Julie squeezed his hands, almost like she was afraid she wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. "I like this," she murmured.

"Hey, Jules?"

"Yeah?"

Luke watched her eyes widen the tiniest bit as she gave him a questioning look. "Uh, do you -- about what Carlos said . . . We will talk about that, right?"

"Yes. I promise. Just . . . later?"

"Okay." Just the promise was enough for Luke. Besides, he could hold her, now. He could hold her hand, brush her hair out of her face, hug her. He could even flick her nose or tug her curls to annoy her, nudge her around when she didn't laugh at his jokes. And if -- he hoped she did -- but if she didn't feel the same way he did, then being able to be her best friend and just high five her now and then would still be enough. She wasn't just out of reach anymore.

Ayeeeee this just be sitting in my notes??? I found it like this??? All it needed was a title??? Speaking of, I might change that title and steal it for a sad fic oop

[earliebirb]

Hello. So about the "send me a pairing and a number and i'll write you a drabble"... These are all perfect and I kinda want to ask for every single one for stony but I don't want to be that greedy XD How about 32 - “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”. It seems perfect for Steve and Tony. Love you!

Hello! Thank you for the prompt. Sorry for the long wait, I hope you like it!

weather the storm

steve/tony, hurt/comfort, getting together, 1839 words

(32 from this list)

Everything hurts. Breathing hurts.

“I really thought we could make it, you know. We had a decent chance of making it out—”

They are stuck under the remains of a collapsed apartment building. Fortunately, the wreckage seems to provide a small cocoon for them to sit in without being crushed, with a small amount of sunlight finding its way through the cracks between the debris and into the small space they are trapped in. Not so fortunately, JARVIS’ calculation has told him that the suit has taken a considerable amount of damage and that even if it had been running optimally, there would still be no way for them to blast their way out of there without risking certain death.

“Stop talking,” Steve grunts, but how can Tony stop talking when Steve’s face has lost its natural complexion and instead has taken on a deathly pallor that makes it look like he is the one that has a piece of rebar running through his abdomen instead of Tony?

Oh, that’s right. There is another unfortunate aspect to their situation: the fact that some time during the destruction of the building, Tony has somehow managed to get himself impaled on one of the steel bars underlying the building’s structure. 

“I’m fine, Steve. It’s all going to be okay,” Tony says, every word an exertion. His wound smarts with every breath. 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Steve spits out angrily, his voice cracking on the last syllable as he presses his forehead to Tony’s temple, cradling the heavy weight of Tony’s suit-clad body in his arms. 

Tony smiles weakly up at him as black spots appear in his vision. Just before he asked Steve to help him remove his helmet, the HUD of the suit had notified him of the fact that his vitals were failing and that without serious medical attention within two hours, he might not make it. That was maybe around half an hour ago, but he doesn’t know anymore; it’s getting harder and harder to focus on anything but the torturous pain his body is in. 

He raises one of his hands, offering it up to Steve. The simple movement jostles the rebar in him and he grits his teeth at a wave of pain so intense he is on the verge of blacking out. 

“Hold… my hand?” Tony asks and Steve complies readily, holding Tony’s gauntleted hand in his. 

“Hey, Steve.”

Steve stays silent but Tony feels his gloved fingers tighten around his gauntlet. He lets the silence stretch out between the two of them for a few moments, listening to the sound of their harsh breathing. Absentmindedly, he admires the way the dust motes rising from the debris seem to dance under the rays of sunlight. 

“You want to know a secret?”

Steve speaks his words against Tony’s hair. “I want you to stop talking.”

“I think… I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

Steve stills against him, muscles locking up with tension. Tony feels drops of something warm land on his face even as Steve continues to say nothing. Steve is crying. 

Tony tells Steve that he loves him and Steve’s response is to start crying. Of course, because he is Tony Stark, he manages to find a way to hurt other people even in his dying hours. Tony wasn’t going to ever let Steve know about how he felt about him but life is a funny thing full of surprises. With the prospects of him making it out of this disaster alive becoming increasingly unlikely by the second, he has found a surge of courage he doesn’t think he would have found otherwise. 

“I’m sorry. For this. For everything,” Tony says breathlessly. He continues to speak even as the act of doing so renders the already exhausting task of breathing that much harder. “I know that you probably don’t want to hear this—”

“Shut up!” Steve roars, his voice hoarse. He rests his chin atop Tony’s head, just above Tony’s hairline. “If you say another word,” Steve chokes out, “I’m going to kill you myself.” 

Tony falls silent at that, closing his eyes. He has told Steve the one thing he needed to tell him and now that the job is done, he feels very tired, like his bones are turning into liquid. He feels himself sink deeper into Steve’s arms and he thinks he hears the sound of Steve whispering what might be a litany of pleas into the skin of his temple. 

As he lies in the arms of the man he loves, the last thing Tony thinks of before his senses are engulfed in darkness is that there are worse ways to die.

***

Tony wakes up alone in a hospital room to the sound of the steady beeping of machines. 

At least, he thinks he is alone, until a voice speaks up:

“You can’t do that again.”

He startles and looks around the room before finding Steve, seated in a chair situated in the darkest corner of the room, arms crossed and eyes looking right at him. 

“Steve,” Tony tries to say, but his dry throat morphs the word into a series of coughs. 

Steve stands up from the chair and walks to his side, handing him a glass of water and holding the straw up to his mouth. Tony takes a few sips gratefully, letting the liquid soothe his throat.

“Thanks.” Tony sighs, leaning back against his pillow. Steve sets the glass down on the bedside table and proceeds to stare down at Tony with unblinking eyes.

“How long was I out?”

Steve continues to gaze at him wordlessly, expression unreadable. 

“Steve—”

“I wasn’t going to forgive you.” 

Tony blinks. “What?”

“I wasn’t going to ever forgive you if you had—” Steve breaks off abruptly. He doesn’t finish his sentence. All the while, he is still staring down at Tony with steely blue eyes. The non-expression on Steve’s face and the way he holds himself makes Tony think of a rubber band that has been stretched taut, liable to break any second. 

Hearing a creak, Tony turns his head to see that Steve is gripping the metal handle bar of the hospital bed’s headboard and that the metal is giving way under the strength of his hand. 

“Steve, you need to let up—”

“You can’t say you love me and then leave me alone,” Steve says. It’s like he is not hearing whatever is coming out of Tony’s mouth, like they are having two entirely separate conversations. The way Tony is still unable to discern an ounce of emotion in his voice or on his face would scare him if he didn’t have an inkling as to what kind of emotion is simmering behind Steve’s apparent stolid indifference.

It’s fear, he guesses. Cold, all-encompassing fear that numbs you to your bones. Tony remembers feeling something similar one December night twenty-something years ago, remembers hearing the words “car accident” and then nothing else. He remembers feeling nothing. No anger, no sadness, just… nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says. He doesn’t say what for because there are too many things he is apologizing for. Sorry for not being better at calculating the odds. Sorry for being a constant burden for the team. Sorry for springing an unwanted love confession on Steve when he least needed or expected it. Just an endless string of apologies. 

“You should be,” Steve says, still in that unsettling monotone that is so uncharacteristic of him. 

“Just forget what I said.” Tony stares down at the white rumpled sheets of the hospital bed. “And… I promise to recalibrate the suit so I can perform better on the field. I’ll try my best to make sure that this kind of miscalculation won’t happen again.”

Tony nods decisively to himself before holding out a hand to Steve with his best attempt at a smile. “Now, are we good?”

Steve just stares down at Tony’s hand impassively for a few moments before looking up at Tony. 

He proceeds to ignore Tony’s hand entirely, leaning down and—

Steve is kissing him. 

Steve is kissing Tony, one of his hands gently cradling Tony’s cheek. His lips caress Tony’s softly, and then eagerly with increased frenzy, like he is kissing Tony with the intent to bruise his lips. 

Then Tony tastes salt. At the same time, he realizes that Steve’s breath is stuttering against his lips. “I can’t— You can’t— Damn you—” Steve whispers brokenly into his mouth and that makes Tony pull back in alarm, gently pushing Steve back with a hand on his chest. 

He gets the briefest look of Steve’s face—his red eyes brimming with tears, lips quivering and teeth gritted like someone withstanding torture—before the dam breaks and he watches as Steve buries his face in Tony’s chest, sobbing loudly into it like someone letting out years worth of bottled up agony. Steve’s throat sounds raw and his tears seep into the fabric of Tony’s hospital gown. Both of his hands are trembling as they clutch Tony’s arms for dear life, nails digging into Tony’s skin.

Tony feels his own eyes sting with tears, his vision blurring, because Steve sounds like he is falling apart because of Tony. 

In the end, it takes quite some time for either of them to calm down. Tony and Steve end up lying together on the small bed, having carefully arranged themselves in a position that allows them to look at each other. Tony stares softly at Steve who in return is gazing intently at him, eyes still wet and face red from crying. Tony’s hand is cupping Steve’s cheek.

Steve absolutely refuses to let go of his other hand, fingers intertwined with his. He still looks upset. He also looks incredibly exhausted.

“Go to sleep,” Tony whispers, thumb methodically tracing one-way strokes across Steve’s cheekbone. 

“I’m scared,” Steve rasps. His eyes remain trained on Tony, the intensity of their gaze unchanging. 

“I’ll be right here when you wake up,” Tony promises.

Steve blinks languidly. Once. Twice.

“Can you say it again?”

“Say what?”

“Say you love me again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“...Again.”

“I love you.”

Steve closes his eyes. “One more time?”

Tony smiles, closing the small distance between them to capture Steve’s lips in a tender kiss. He lingers there for a while, making it last, making sure Steve knows just how much Tony loves him.

“I love you, Steve Rogers.”

Over the next few minutes, he watches Steve drift off slowly, the fight going out of him like Tony’s admission is all the permission he needs to fall asleep. When his breathing evens out, his grip on Tony’s hand goes lax. Tony doesn’t let go.

Tony is scared, but Steve is, too. 

Maybe it’s okay. 

Maybe they can be terrified together. 

He lies there in the quiet, listening to Steve breathe for a long, long time because he can, because he survived, and because somehow—by some stroke of miracle—Steve is in love with him, too. 

[jitteryjive]

I made an auto generated story under the cut

No one knew Prof could beatbox really fucking good. In fact, no one had ever heard a single person beatbox better than him. And they’d all lived in the same class for the past three years. No one would have believed that he actually played the piano, if it weren't for one day during study hall where she overheard Professor singing to the piano.

“It's alright, I'll always be with you” He sang, and then stopped suddenly when she walked into the room. The rest of the class stared at her like she was crazy. “What?” She whispered and looked around to see who'd said what. Nobody else dared make eye contact with anyone. Not even Mr. D was looking directly at her, which was unusual.

“Oh. Uh, nothing sir, I just wanted to tell you… that we are playing the first few chapters from ‘The Sound of Silence' by David Bowie next week. You know, because of my uncle's band, I thought it would probably help me with my English grade.” It wasn't a lie, she did want to learn about rock music, but she didn't have time to sit down right now so she decided that it was a decent explanation.

Prof smiled at her and nodded his head.

“That sounds amazing. I 'll look forward to seeing what you've got for us this year.” And with that, she walked back to her seat.

Everyone turned to stare at her again. “I never knew you were into classical!” Mr. P said loudly and clapped her on the shoulder. Her face turned a deep scarlet and she quickly ducked her head to avoid looking at them anymore.

“Y/n, can you come here for a sec?” Principal K asked as soon as she stepped into his office. She stood up straighter than ever. “Yes Sir?”

“You're going to the concert aren't you?” Y/N nodded frantically. Principal K sighed. “Ok kid. But you need to promise me something” Y/n frowned and waited for him to finish speaking. “If things don't go well, you'LL let me know ok?” His voice held an edge to it and he crossed his arms over his chest.

She nodded again. “I promise.” Principal K looked her in the eye before nodding once more. “Alrighty. That's it. Go enjoy yourself ok?” Y/n gave him a small smile before stepping out of his office. She ran up to the choir room before she had time to think and sat behind one of her friends.

As usual, there were many students crammed together around a large board that read ‘Featuring The Sound Of Silence’. A group of people sat at the front of the room, with two other groups, the back row and the middle row, sitting beside each other. One boy was talking animatedly while another laughed quietly every so often.

“Hey! Hey, guys! Can someone turn that damn thing off already?” a boy sitting beside Y/n asked, his hands covering his ears as loud music blasted from the speakers. She looked over at the girl who had spoken earlier, who had her head buried under her notes and was scribbling on them furiously.

After a moment, Y/n looked back at the board. The group consisted mostly of boys and girls and was titled ‘Birds’. She guessed that some of the birds had been called ‘banshees’ or something. There were two other people standing at the far end. They both had their heads bent close together and seemed to be arguing quietly. After listening for a bit, Y/n realised it wasn' t just one argument though, but multiple. One was a boy with black hair who kept yelling at the other and the other one looked like she couldn't decide whether she should cry or laugh. She watched curiously as they both shook their heads, and then the one with the black hair started to walk away. As he approached them, she couldn't help notice how much taller she was compared to him. Y/n also noticed that his shoulders were hunched over slightly, like his body couldn't carry the weight of the world on its own. He stopped in front of them, before leaning closer towards her friend. He spoke softly and she leaned further into him.

[neon-junkie]

can i get uhhhhh some willscuella hcs? maybe when (and how?) they understood that dutch is not the leader they want anymore so they ran together and how it all went for them and for their relationship (friends to lovers mb??) idk or just general ones i'll read anything you write about them tbh

ohhhhhhh willscuella, they make my heart melt ;-;  did i get carried away with these? yes. are they a bit scruffy? yes. but you get the gist. 

Just a warning, these hc’s does contain a description of a panic attack and a homophobic slur. its a nice ending tho, promise :) 

Bill was up one night, drinking his sorrows away, trying to shake off the creepy vibe that Beaver Hollow gives out constantly. It's far too late for anybody to be up, apart from those on guard duty and for once, Javier isn't on it.

Bill gets up from his seat and begins wandering off past the horses, heading up to the left so he can empty his bladder. He turns and begins wandering back into camp, only to find Javier sitting down by one of the trees.

Had he been there this whole time? Had he appeared after Bill popped out of the camp? Bill is unsure, but he's definitely sure of the depressing aura that radiates Javier.

"Hey," Bill simply says as he approaches Javier. "You alright?" he asks.

"Bill, hey... yeah... well, no, not really," Javier takes his time responding.

"What's a matter?" Bill questions.

"The gang, Dutch, the usual stuff, you know," Javier tells him with a shrug.

"Yeah, I know," Bill pouts as he sits down beside Javier.

Within time, Javier began to pour his heart out. Ranting to Bill about how much the gang means to him, how they're family, how Dutch took him in when he was ready to die.

He finds himself crying, angry tears as he gets worked up at the situation, the situation that he feels could easily be avoided if everybody would just work together.

"You don't think that maybe... Dutch... he ain't really... with it?" Bill questions. Everybody has noticed how much Dutch has changed, how he's unnecessarily killing, how he's becoming the exact person he swore never to be.

"He isn't. I know he isn't. I guess I just don't want to admit it," Javier sighs. He knows that the man who saved his life is no longer someone he can rely on. He's not the same man who peeled his own coat off his back and wrapped it around Javier, attempting to tell him that he'll be fine, despite the language barrier.

Sooner or later, the gang will break. People have already begun peeling away, one at a time, escaping before the storm can hit. But Javier and Bill are in it till the very end, they've sworn their loyalty to their leader, to the gang, to each other.

"Bill?" Javier questions, lifting his head up and meeting Bills eyes.

"Yeah?" Bill asks, noticing the glistening trails of Javiers tears over his cheeks.

"If anything happens... to the gang I mean, you'll stick by me, Bill, won't you?" Javier questions.

"Of course," Bill nods.

They have each other.

-----

The storm finally came and they were forced to pick a side. But when the Pinkertons showed up, everybody ran.

Javier and Bill noticed the way Dutch didn't bother with them. Dutch didn't even look at them, he didn't check if they were safe or if they were following him to safety. He ran and saved his own ass, Micah trailing behind.

Javier and Bill looked at each other whilst the bullets continued to fly overhead, knowing that now is their chance to escape.

So they left, whistling for their horses and bolting out of there. Dutch was nowhere to be seen nor heard, but this was a blessing in disguise as they could finally escape.

Days became weeks and they found themselves in New Austin, a place they hadn't been for well over the year. They've not missed the blazing sun or the dry earth, but the landscape doesn't seem to bother them. They have bigger demons to face.

A small camp is set up whilst they try and figure things out, where to go, what to do, where to hide, etc. They're sticking together, and even Brown Jack and Boaz seem inseparable, traumatized from how much that fight had startled them.

They're scavenging whatever they can, robbing the odd coach here and there, practically picking up every penny they see in the dirt in order to survive. Every day is heavy, a permanent weight on their shoulders, and they can't remember the last time they've laughed or smiled.

The nights in New Austin are cold and dark, like a vast void. It's the perfect setting for nightmares and they become a regular thing for Javier.

Bill's used to overhearing Javier jolt awake. He's used to stirring in his sleep and seeing Javier sat by the campfire, bags under his eyes with his knees tucked up to his chest.

That well-groomed and confident man that he once knew is gone, leaving behind this started lamb with enough weight on his shoulders to kill a horse.

The nightmares get bad one night, Javier jolting awake but this time, he lets out a cry. He's panting and shaking and he suddenly forgets how to breathe.

"Javier?" Bill calls out as he stirs awake, slowly sitting up to see Javier on the verge of a breakdown. "Shit," Bill swears under his breath, quickly getting to his feet and settling down beside Javier.

The tears begin to fall and Javier goes into a panicked state, shaking and hyperventilating, forgetting how to move his own body.

Bill's unsure what to do so he plays on his instincts, reaching out to gently pull Javier against his chest, softly wrapping his arms around the much smaller man.

Javier melts into him straight away, burying his head into the curve of Bills neck, clinging onto Bills shirt for dear life as he empties out all his bottled emotions through his tears.

Bill cradles Javier, softly cooing him, reminding him to breathe every so often. They stay like that for quite some time; minutes? hours? time blurs when you're in that state.

Once Javier's worn out and stable enough to respond, he sobs out a "thank you," still curled up in Bills lap, still gripping onto his shirt and breathing heavily.

"S'alright. You'd do the same for me," Bill tells him. "C'mon, let's get some rest," Bill says. Javier can only nod in agreement.

Neither of them questions what happens next, they just naturally do it. Bill pulls Javier down with him onto his bedroll, stretching his arm out underneath Javiers head, pulling the smaller man against him. Javiers arms wrap around Bill tightly, gripping onto the bear-sized man as if he was going to slip away.

They're quick to drift off to sleep, exhausted from the turn of events, but the way they've slept doesn't bother either of them.

From then on, literally sleeping together becomes a normal thing. It's comforting, reminding themselves that they still have each other, but only each other.

Javier does try to sleep by himself one night whilst Bill goes for a walk, but he ends up lying awake the whole time. Once Bill is back and settled on his own rollmat, Javier gets up and moves across to Bill, taking his normal position comfortably across Bills chest.

Bill doesn't say a word, he just stretches his arm out and allows Javier to curl up to him. If anything, Bill encourages it from the way he tightly holds Javier, and the way his cheek rests against Javiers head as they sleep.

-----

Their first kiss wasn't surprising. It was a somewhat odd situation, the pair attempting to go into town one evening for a few drinks, over a year after the event.

They'd gotten a lot better since they began finding comfort in each other, and Javier was the one to suggest that they should try and do something normal, especially now they'd earned a fair amount of money and were beginning to get back onto their feet.

Drinks were downed and they were at a comfortable level, sitting by themselves at the table. The saloon was quite busy for a dry, desert town. One that was apparently riddled with cholera but the pair weren't fussed if they catch it. If anything, it'd be a blessing.

They overheard a man make a comment about them, saying he'd "never seen such an odd pair of fags before."

Javier was the one to act impulsively, not Bill, storming to his feet and confronting the stranger.

Bill peeled him away, saying he's not worth it, and managed to drag Javier outside and have him relax as they leaned on the fence surrounding the Saloon.

Bill knew Javier was calm the second he said "that was weird for me, eh? You used to be the one to do things like that," with a soft laugh.

"Maybe you've been around me for too long then," Bill replied.

"Yeah, maybe a little too close to you too," Javier laughs, but Bill picks up on that glisten to his eyes.

"D-do you mind that?" Bill questions. The two had never actually spoken about their sleeping arrangements, naturally doing them to help benefit the other, providing warmth and comfort through their hardest times.

"The cuddling? No," Javier confidently replies.

He said it. Cuddling. They are cuddling, aren't they? Bill feels odd finally hearing it, finally coming to terms with the fact that the pair do enjoy a cuddle every night. And they don't just do it when they're in bed; they've often just lazed about together by the campfire some evenings, or spent a few minutes in each others arms before they get up.

"Do you?" Javier asks, snapping Bill out of his dazed realization.

"What? No," Bill replies.

"Hm," Javier hums in agreement.

They're silent, staring at each other. Javier's always been relaxed about the arrangement, calling it to himself cuddling from the very start, but Bill was a little unsure if it really was cuddling. He's never wanted to cross any boundaries, to hurt Javier in any way, especially not by making him uncomfortable.

Their eyes lock onto each others; Bill's wide and timid, whilst Javiers are relaxed and confident.

But regardless of their current states, they both move in at the same time to finally kiss. It's comforting, like sipping a hot drink at just the right temperature, or watching a rock skim perfectly over the water. It feels like both home and the open road, like two polar opposites finally meeting.

If they would have somehow kissed years ago then it would have never worked; their noses would have bumped too often, Bill would have been too aggressive, and Javier would have probably pushed him away.

But now, it was just right.

Just like that stranger said, they definitely are an odd pair.

[littlemisslol-fic]

Summary: Two years after the events of Barviel Keep, Varian has tried to adapt to the expectations brought by being a King’s Ward, with mixed results. Haunted by ghosts, Varian is forced to face the demons he tried to leave behind in Bayangor when his abdication is forcibly stopped by a third party, out for revenge against the Bayan Royal bloodline. On the run, with few allies left to turn to, Varian finds himself chasing a ghost through a series of tests that only a true heir of Demanitus could ever hope to pass.But the shadows are ever present, looming and dark, and not everything is as simple as it might seem.

Notes: There are many things of interest, buried deep in the earth.

The adder stone was a slight weight in Varian's hand. He idly played with it, watching how the carved runes seemed to glitter in the sunlight. It was hypnotic, the shimmering light of subtle magic playing through the stone in delicate wisps. Ori had said it was good for lost things, whatever that meant, but he’d neglected to give any more information after that, instead opting to shuffle them out the door with a grin and a wave.

They'd gone back to the boat after the events of the early afternoon. Ori's cabin, it turned out, was only a small walk back to the center of town, so the trip had been brief at best. Rapunzel had kept a hold of Varian's hand the whole walk back, her grip tight and unyielding as she borderline dragged Varian back to the known territory of the Oracle.

The boat rocked softly under them, still tied off to the pier. Eugene bustled in front of a small cook-stove, one made of thick metal to avoid burning the wood of the deck. The man's jaunty whistling mixing in with the gentle beating of waves against the Oracle's side. Varian could smell some kind of fish cooking, alongside some roasting onions if his nose was correct, and tried to ignore the small pang of hunger he felt at the smell. Ruddiger made an impatient chirp next to him, making grabby hands towards Eugene.

"Almost time, bud," Varian gave him a scritch behind the ear. "Be patient."

Ruddiger huffed but settled, curling closer to Varian's leg on the crate they were sitting on. Varian snickered, giving the raccoon another scratch for his trouble.

The boy took another look to the adder stone, twisting it between his gloved fingers. It looked relatively normal, save for the shimmering runes of subtle magic, but he knew better than to trust something based on looks alone. He turned it again, seeing his palm through the smooth, circular hole carved in the center of it.

He brought up the stone, at least somewhat familiar with the mythos surrounding it, and held it to one of his eyes. He squeezed the other shut, peering through curiously. Everything seemed relatively normal, if not a little duller in colour, and he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. He looked around a little more, trying to see if anything looked interesting. He saw Eugene, just as dulled as the rest of the Oracle, the deck of the ship, up above he could see seabirds flying without a care.

"Varian?"

He twisted a bit to look at Rapunzel. Through the adder stone he could see her entire figure glowing a bright yellow, like an aura. It was similar to how she'd glowed when using the power of the Sundrop. Varian blinked, lowering the stone. Without it, Rapunzel looked normal, if not confused about what he was doing. He brought the stone back up once more, noting with a little bit of childish delight that he could once again see the glow.

"What are you doing?" she asked, tilting her head. "Isn't it just a rock?"

"It's a special rock," he grinned, lowering it again. "Lets you see magical things easier. You still glow!"

"I do?" she asked. He handed her the stone, and she peered through it like Varian had been, looking at her own hand. "Huh," she said, "That's different."

She passed him the stone back, letting Varian continue to look around with it. He didn't see much else on the boat; Ruddiger seemed even more monochrome through the stone, which was kind of funny but not important, and though Rapunzel glowed it wasn't exactly breaking news that she'd had magical ties.

He twisted again, this time looking at the town through the stone. Like most things it was dulled, almost black and white, save for one noticeable difference.

Off in the distance, in the same way Rapunzel glowed, was a shining blue light. Varian tilted his head, standing up to try and see what was causing the light, but it was too far away. He let the stone drop, trying to for a better look, and caught the look of a clearing in the trees at the far side of the town.

"What're you lookin' at, kid?" Eugene asked. Varian didn't turn around, still squinting in the sunlight.

"I'm not sure," the alchemist replied, "But I think there's something at the edge of town." He un-twisted, looking at Eugene. The man pursed his lips, thinking.

"Think it's her?" he asked, "No one in town seemed to know who she was, but if Ori's weird rock is giving you hints, maybe that's where we're supposed to look?"

"Maybe," Varian shrugged, "Can't hurt to check, I guess."

He felt that creeping disappointment from town creep up again, at the reminder that they hadn't found his mother yet. He'd been nervous, and excited, to meet her, and the sting of a failed day was still fresh. He let himself sink back onto the crate, looking out over the water to where he'd seen the light.

Eugene seemed to pick up on his mood, the man smiling easily and scooping up some fish with his spatula. He plated it, along with a few other odds and ends, and gently set it next to Varian. It smelled good, but Varian didn't break eye contact with the shoreline.

He felt Eugene put a hand on his shoulder, patting gently.

"It's okay, goggles," the man said, "We'll find her. Just gotta keep trying, right?"

Varian smiled, weak but there. "Yeah. Of course."

Eugene's grin got wider, more real. "There's my boy," he nodded. "Now eat your lunch, you need some meat on those bones."

Varian snorted, but took the plate nonetheless. He fed Ruddiger in between bites of his own, eyes drifting to where he'd seen the glow. From the way the trees broke, there was definitely something there, though he couldn't tell what it was. The sound of conversation behind him fuzzed out, the boy focused on the parting of the trees.

The town may have been a bust, but they weren't out of ideas yet. With a newfound determination he shoveled food into his mouth, ready to take on the next step.

He just had to keep trying, and eventually he'd find her.

No matter what it took.

>>>><<<<

The gap in the trees, it turned out, had been a graveyard. An old one, from the looks of the crumbling tombstones and large, creeping vines covering everything. Probably abandoned, Varian thought as he almost tripped over an exposed root, or at the very least uncared for.

They passed by a large mausoleum, one of many littering the grounds, and reached the center of the graveyard. It was oddly huge, for being near such a small town; the graveyard for Old Corona had been maybe a quarter of the size. When Varian pointed it out, Eugene just shrugged.

"Maybe the town used to be bigger," he said, "Or there was a lot of deaths. Sometimes there's things like plague, fire, flood, things like that... that'll make a graveyard double in size in a short time."

Varian grimaced at the implications, the numerous gravestones suddenly seeming all the more sinister. The sun blazed high above them, hot and brutally beating down on them all. Varian looked around for a second, noting how isolated they were, before dropping his hood. Rapunzel made a nervous noise when he did, but a nudge from Eugene and she dropped it.

Varian looked around again, unable to see anything that seemed out of the norm. Just a creepy, old graveyard, he thought, a little fed up.

He reached into his pocket, drawing out the adder stone and holding it to his face. The rock was warm to the touch. He peered through it, but had to bring it away from his face with a grimace when everything was glowing the same blue he'd seen from the boat.

He blinked the spots out of his vision, looking through again more carefully. Sure enough the entire graveyard was permeated by the blue glow, a soft, seafoam shade. It covered everything like fog, making picking any sort of source impossible. Varian let his drop with a scoff.

"Useless," he mumbled. Though, if there were something around here sending this much magical energy into the surrounding area, it must have been powerful.

Or, theymust have been.

Eugene set himself down on a fallen log, looking around the graveyard. "Got anything?" he asked, "Cuz I'm seeing a whole lotta nothing, I'll be honest."

Varian snorted, scratching at his chin in thought. "Nothing yet," he admitted, "But I'll keep you posted. There's gotta be something around here to cause the glow, even if it's not... not her."

He combed over the graveyard for the rest of the afternoon, slowly growing more desperate as the time ticked on. Soon enough the sun was beginning to set, casting the graveyard into shadow. Varian had walked the perimeter of the graveyard six times, had looked at every tombstone and mausoleum a hundred times over, and even had climbed a tree at one point to try and get an areal view, only for all of his ideas to end in nothing. It was more than a little frustrating.

"There has to be something," Varian grumbled as he threw himself down next to Eugene. The man had given up an hour ago, he had long since slouched against a rock and covered his face with an arm. Eugene snorted awake when Varian flopped next to him, blinking rapidly.

"Ehm-up!" he slurred, "What's first, captain?"

Varian rolled his eyes, glaring around the graveyard again. "I must be missing something," he said, "A key, or a clue, or a cypher, but whatever it is I can't find it."

Ruddiger chittered in consolation, patting Varian's knee. The boy scratched his pet with a frown, leaning back against Eugene's rock. The sun was nearly down for the night, but Varian wasn't ready to give up. Rapunzel was nearby, picking her way through the graves carefully.

She'd been quiet since they'd gotten to the graveyard, but Varian was slowly growing used to being able to get his way through a full sentence. It was oddly... nice. He felt the sting of guilt for feeling that way, but shoved it aside. He could have something to himself for now, even if it wouldn’t last forever. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. One problem at a time. Rapunzel knew what she'd done, even if she'd apologized Varian wasn't quite ready to forgive her for the note-

Wait.

The note.

Varian pulled out the note from his mother, looking it over again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but... well, it was worth a shot. He snagged the adder stone out of his other pocket, setting the note down on his lap and lifting the stone to his eye.

He squinted through the green haze caused by the graveyard, looking down at the dull page. The letter was the exact same as always, though when Varian looked down to the very bottom he noticed a subtle green glow. He tilted his head, peering closer, and blinked in shock when words began to appear at the foot of the page.

He moved the stone away to double check, and sure enough the words vanished without a trace. Varian felt a grin split across his face, bringing the adder stone back and took a better look.

"I lay within the gaze of our ancestor," he read aloud, voice soft to not break the quiet of the coming evening.

"Whazzat?" Eugene asked. Varian let the hand holding the stone drop down, shaking the note gently.

"I found the missing piece!" he crowed, shooting to his feet. "She left me a clue, I just needed to look closer!"

"That's great, kid!" Eugene got to his feet as well. "What did it say?"

"I lay within the gaze of our ancestor," Varian repeated, putting the note away with the adder stone.

"Great!" Eugene said, "...What does that mean, though?"

Varian paused, unsure. "I don't know," he admitted. "But has to be a reference to something, right?"

The man nodded, but stopped when Rapunzel cleared her throat from nearby.

"We should call it a night," she said, "It's getting dark."

Varian felt his heart sink. They'd been in the graveyard for half a day, and she wanted to leave just when they found their first real clue? He didn't want to leave yet, not when he'd finally had a break! He knew the second she succeeded in getting them back to the boat, it would be a fight to get back here tomorrow. He needed time, and space to figure this out, and he wasn’t about to get it back on the Oracle.

"I think I'm going to stick around," he said. He tried not to feel cowed when her eyes snapped to him, but it was a near thing. "I'm going to look around for something to do with the clue."

Rapunzel pursed her lips, looking ready to argue, when Eugene piped up. "If you're going to stay, then so am I," he shrugged, "No sense in splitting up. It'll be a team awesome sleepover under the stars, right kid?"

Varian couldn't help but chuckle, nodding. "Sure, sounds like fun."

The boy could see the way Rapunzel wanted to argue, the way her shoulders were raised, and her mouth opened only to snap shut when she realized she was out voted.

"I'll start the fire," she said flatly, spinning on her heel and leaving the boys behind in the graveyard.

Varian sighed, slumping a little. He felt Eugene put a hand on his shoulder, and looked up at the older man with what was probably a very kicked puppyexpression from the way Eugene frowned.

"She'll come around," he soothed. "She's under a lot of stress, and we both know how this whole thing makes her feel. Give her some time to get settled. She was the same when Cass- well, when they had their problems."

Varian slouched a little more. As much as it hurt, this was something he had to dig his heels in over. If he didn't, he'd go right back to being dragged everywhere by the wrist for the rest of his life. He couldn't do it again, not now that he'd finally broken through that boundary. He wouldn't be shoved back into the mourning waif box, even if it was causing strife with Rapunzel. Not after all the progress he’d made while out of Corona.

But that didn't make the sight of her retreating back any harder to watch.

>>>><<<<

They'd set up a fire on the outskirts of the graveyard. Nowhere near the tombstones, more of an open field that was next to the graveyard to be honest; just far enough to feel respectful. Varian huddled close to the fire, wrapping his dad's cloak tightly around himself to ward off the cold. It didn't do much, but he was, at this point, used to the chill in the spring air. Eugene was nearby, as was Rapunzel, the two of them quietly talking between themselves.

Ruddiger purred as he snuggled close to Varian's hip; the boy smiled and ran a soothing hand down the raccoon's spine, lost in thought. The note was on his lap, just as cryptic had it had been before. Varian grumbled, flipping it over and staring at it through the adder stone. Other than the new sentence, the note didn't have any more secrets to give, it seemed, and Varian couldn't help but feel a little disappointed at the fact.

Rapunzel quietly stirred a pot that they'd put over the fire, filled with some kind of soup. Eugene had said what kind, but the specifics slipped Varian's mind in favor of staring at his mother's handwriting. He pursed his lips, flipping the paper over again and letting the adder stone drop. He chanced a glace up when Eugene pushed himself to his feet, the man stretching.

"Gunna get more firewood," he explained when Varian shot him a look, "You two don't burn anything down while I'm gone, yeah?"

Rapunzel patted his knee with a small smile. "I'm sure we can handle that, between the two of us," she said. Eugene took her hand, bending at the waist and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Varian made a dramatic gagging noise, pulling a face at the lovey-dovey display; doubling down when Eugene stuck his tongue out in retaliation. The man laughed, walking past Varian and taking a second to rustle the boy's hair as he passed. Varian grumbled at the attention, swatting at Eugene's hands, but took it with grace. Eugene's footsteps faded behind him, the man wandering off into the forested section in the middle distance.

Varian sighed and looked back to the note, gnawing at his lip. It hadn’t given him any more clues, and he’d be staring at it for hours now. He’d be content to stare at it for hours more, but not even a minute after Eugene left, the silence was broken again.

"Can you please put that down for a second?" Ah, Rapunzel.

Varian looked up, blinking in question. Rapunzel wrung her hands, looking at the note.

"I- sure, why?" he asked her, folding the note and putting it away in his cloak pocket.

Rapunzel visibly relaxed with the letter out of sight. She waved him over, shuffling over to make room when Varian got up and shuffled around the fire to sit next to her. He waited, knowing Rapunzel enough to know she would speak when ready. She didn’t usually ask for his undivided attention unless she had something to say; and he was willing to hear her out, for now. He wanted to try and mend things, but if she wasn’t willing to give ground, he wasn’t sure if he would accept that. Rapunzel seemed to finally get her bearings, twisting her hand around her brunette hair.

"I... know you're excited," she started. "To find your- well, to find her."

Varian felt a tingle of apprehension in his gut, but tried to ignore it. This was the first time Rapunzel had said anything beyond flat, safe statements regarding Aisha, and if this was her way of making a step towards reconciliation, then Varian was willing to hear her out.

"I am," he admitted. "Excited, but mostly nervous, I guess?"

Rapunzel smiled, her face drawn and tired. "I understand that," she admitted. "When I first- well, when I first came home, after the tower, I felt the same way about meeting my parents."

Varian nodded. He felt the urge to hold her hand, to reach out to her in comfort, but refrained. He still felt a little off when it came to her; if he pushed too quickly, he knew he'd let her steamroll him once again.

"Sounds stressful," is all he said, trying to get a laugh. It worked, Rapunzel huffing out a breath. The fire in front of them crackled, bright and cheerful. Varian felt himself relax a little, forcing his shoulders to lose their tension. Rapunzel shook her head fondly, obviously lost in her memories.

"It was," she agreed. "I didn't know them, didn't know what they were like. After m- after Gothel, I had a few days to think about what they could be like."

Varian felt a rock settle in his gut, starting to get an inkling of where she was headed with this. He clenched the hand farthest from her so she wouldn't see the reaction, and kept his face carefully blank, hoping beyond hope that he was wrong.

"When I first met them, I had this... idea, of what they'd be like," she mused. "I was wrong, for both of them. The real version of them turned out... a lot more complicated, then I thought they'd be-"

There it is.

"-And I had to give up that perfect idea of them, to see how they really were. I'm sure they had to do the same thing for me. But if I had clung to that imaginary version, I'd never really meet them. See them." She huffed another breath, toeing at the ground with a bare foot. Varian's hand clenched tighter, the apprehension settling into proper dread.

"I just want you to be careful," Rapunzel said, and bingo, we're back on this. Varian had to refrain from rolling his eyes, not really wanting to have this conversation again.

"I will be," he soothed. "I know, she was evil incarnate, I remember."

Rapunzel's face fell at the sass, the woman leaning forward and wrapping her arms around her knees.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," she said firmly, but Varian cut her off. He was over trying to dance around each other, if she wanted to have this conversation, then it was time they had it.

"Then how?" he asked, not harsh, but firm. "How did you mean it? Because you've made it perfectly clear what you think of me trying to find her-"

"I'm just trying to keep you safe!" Rapunzel argued, "You seem to think that you're going to find her and everything's just going to work out!" She slouched again, shaking her head. "Things don't always happen like that," she said, "And I just want you to be ready if something goes wrong."

Varian scoffed, looking away. He didn't want to admit she was playing to some of his insecurities, the nerves that had been plaguing him for days since finding the note stirring at her words. They’d been whispering in his ear since he’d arrived on the island, but he wasn’t about to let them ruin what he was trying to build. He ignored the insecurities, shaking his head. He knew exactly why she was trying to feed those doubts.

"Are you saying that because you're worried about me?" he asked, "Or because you want to see this go south so you can be right?"

Rapunzel reeled back, bodily flinching. "What?" she asked, stunned. "How could you think I'd want that?"

"Because I'd go home with you." The feeling of apprehension in Varian's mind was long gone, replaced by irritation. "Because if this all goes to hell, then you get exactly what you want. You want her to be terrible, so I'll run back to Corona and hide in the castle with you until I'm old and grey."

Rapunzel balked. "Is that really what you think?" she breathed. "You think I'd ever want to keep you somewhere you didn't want to be?"

"You already lied to me." Varian pointed out. The letter in his pocket felt impossibly heavy. "Honestly, I'm not sure how far you'd go."

"I just want you safe!" Rapunzel finally seemed to lose her cool, her volume raising. "After everything that happened, why do you think I want anything else? I'm trying to protect you!"

"You're trying to keep me in a box!" Varian snapped back, "So yeah, I might be safe there, but I wasn’t ever given a moment’s peace! And everyone treated me like glass all the time, and I couldn't escape, Rapunzel, every time I looked around there was something that reminded me of- of him, or of Meave, or my dad-"

"And what, you think finding her is going to solve it?" Rapunzel seemed more agitated, "That if you just pack up and abandon everything that it'll be like nothing ever happened? It doesn't work like that, Varian!"

"It's better than staying!"

"Is it? You'd leave everything and run away just so you can keep ignoring Bayangor?"

"If that's what it takes!"

Rapunzel threw her hands up, shaking her head. "You can't just run forever," she told him. Varian felt a pulse of panic as the conversation quickly got away from him. Rapunzel didn't realize, continuing to rant. "I knowit's hard, out of everyone I promise you I relate the most out of anyone, but that's why I'm telling you that you can'texpect finding her to make you suddenly-"

"Suddenly what?" he demanded, "Suddenly my own person? Someone that I actually am instead of what you all want me to be? I want out so I can be treated like I'm not going to shatter the second anyone looks at me wrong!"

"That's not what this is about-" Rapunzel was as tense as bowstring, "-And you know it! You just want something to chase, so you don't have to work through things back home. I was the same, with the Moonstone! And look how well that turned out! You wanted to leave before you knew she was alive!"

"Which you lied to me about!"

"So you wouldn't use it as an excuse!"

This was getting too close to the chest. Varian could feel himself start to hyperventilate, the breaths coming quick and stuttering. He pushed himself up off the ground on shaking hands, refusing to look at her. He hadn't meant for that to come out, hadn't meant to get that close-

Rapunzel's hand grabbed his, keeping him in place. He whipped around, tugging fruitlessly at his arm to try and pull himself from her grasp. Rapunzel held firm, irritation clear on her face. Varian's panic only grew, the boy tugging harder the longer she refused to let go.

Rapunzel stood, the woman still taller than him. "I'm letting you do this-" she said, the bitterness easily apparent in her voice, "-Because you want to do it. But I'm not going to pretend like this is going to fix all our problems, no matter how much you pretend they will."

Varian tugged again, nearly frantic. "Let go," he breathed, voice weak. "Let go."

Rapunzel didn't seem to hear him, still on her own train of thought. The alchemist gasped again, yanking his arm away.

"Stop touching me," he wailed, backing away and tripping over a rock behind him. He felt a pulse of pain on his spine where he landed, one of his wrists smarting as well. He sat there for a second, stunned, before pushing himself up into a sit and looking at his sister with wide, fearful eyes.

Rapunzel stopped dead, blinking in shock at his reaction. "Varian-" she started, reaching for him.

Varian scrambled back in the dirt, ignoring any sort of decorum in the animal urge to run. "Please," he gasped, "I just, I need space."

Rapunzel flinched back like he'd burned her. She brought her hands to her chest, closing them into tight fists. "I- are you okay?" she asked, eyes bright in the light of the fire. They were wide as saucers, the princess seeming unable to process what exactly had just happened.

There was a long beat of silence. The only sound was Varian's heavy breathing, like he'd just run a mile. Varian felt himself tense when she shifted on her feet. He- she wouldn't hurt him, he knew that, this was Rapunzel, but something in him still looked at her, looming over him just like Father had, and screamed threat.

"I need space," he gasped again, finally getting his feet back under him. He turned and nearly ran in the opposite direction of her, unable to look at her broken-hearted expression for another second. He sprinted for the trees; he tried to ignore the feeling of salt burning his eyes, of dampness on his cheeks.

Tried, and failed.

>>>><<<<

The next morning, it was raining.

The air was considerably tenser than it had been before; any sort of tentative truce between Varian and Rapunzel had been shattered. Varian refused to even look at his sister, keeping to himself as he paced around the graveyard in the light of a new day. Rapunzel seemed to get the hint, maintaining the distance that Varian had created between them.

Dead grass crunched underfoot. Varian paced towards the center of the graveyard, slowly circling it by walking through every row. He kept an eye on names, bitterly wishing he'd listened more to Aldred's insane rambling- how was he supposed to know what ancestor Aisha had been talking about? In theory he wasn't even supposed to know about any of this.

He entered into a section of mausoleums, all of them surrounding a large statue. Varian looked at it, and was startled to see in the light of day that it was Demanitus. He peered closer, noting how worn down the statue looked in comparison to the ones he'd seen in Corona; it seemed the graveyard really hadn't been cared for in years. Something in Varian felt sad at the thought- he personally made sure that Quirin's grave was kept spick and span no matter the weather, just as his dad would have liked it. It was upsetting to think that all of the people buried here didn't get the same treatment, that they'd been forgotten here.

It made him despondent, the idea that someday Quirin's grave would likely end up the same. Hells, his own would too. It made him feel... cold. Eventually no one would be left, and they would all fade into nothing but dust. He looked back to Demanitus, deciding to drop that train of thought.

The great inventor hadn't been buried here. Varian knew that, the boy had been to his tomb in Corona, after all. To see him here, on a tiny island's disproportionately large graveyard, was a mite bit suspicious if he did say so. Varian drew close to the statue, inspecting.

Demanitus looked the same as he always did, the cracked marble doing nothing to hide the statue's visage. Varian chewed on his lip, thinking. Aisha had said our ancestor, the only one Varian knew of was Demanitus himself; in theory all of Aldred's family history was null and void, as it was Aisha's family line that would hold the clue.

Varian walked around the base of the large statue. He squinted up at the statue, noting that the eyes were indeed focused somewhere other than directly ahead. In fact, they were looking off to the side, towards another mausoleum. Varian fetched the adder stone, peering through it. Sure enough the marble building glowed the same bright blue, though it seemed to be much stronger than the light on the outskirts had been.

Choice made, Varian marched to the thick, iron doors of the tomb. Eugene was nearby, having been kicking stones, and wandered over when Varian moved.

"What's up, goggles?" he asked, eyeing the tomb. Varian reached up and rattled the door, testing it.

"I think it's in here," he said. Eugene went a little pale, eyes flicking between the mausoleum and Varian.

"You think she's... in the tomb," he said, apprehension obvious. "Are we, uh, are we sure about that?"

Varian nodded. "In the eyes of the ancestor," he repeated, pointing at the statue of Demanitus. Eugene turned toward the statue, then back to his charge.

"This feels morally wrong," he said thoughtfully, before his tone turned giddy. "Look at my little man, all grown up and graverobbing!"

Varian snorted, moving aside as Eugene drew a lockpick from his boot. The man-made quick work of the door, the old iron creaking open. Varian peered into the looming darkness with apprehension. Eugene stood next to him, brushing off the knees of his pants.

"Et, voila," he said, gesturing with his hands.

Varian didn't tear his eyes away from the tomb, slowly taking a step inside. "Thanks," he mumbled, offhandedly, already distracted by the interior.

The mausoleum was the same white marble as the outside had been, a large space that was nearly five meters square. In the very center was a single, stone coffin, topped with a sculpture of a woman. Varian could only assume that was the person buried in there, though the thought made him a little squeamish. At the foot of the coffin was a large, ornate design in the floor, a compass rose with north pointing towards the coffin.

Varian nearly jumped a foot when the torches on the walls all sprung to life at once, the flames all starting without a trigger. He let out a very manly yelp, nearly falling on his ass when his boots slipped on the marble. Ruddiger hissed, digging his little claws into Varian's shoulder to keep steady as the boy found his balance.

"Magic," Varian muttered, "Why is it always magic?"

"Kid?" Eugene. "Everything okay?"

Varian turned, shrugging as Eugene and Rapunzel entered the crypt. "Everything's fine," he said, trailing off. "I just need to figure out the next step. She said she was hiding, in the note, right?"

Rapunzel nodded, looking around at the blank, stone walls. She fidgeted, obviously a little unhappy with being in such a small space, but did aid the boys as they began to search. The stone was cold, unnaturally so. The rain pounded on the old roof, leaking through in a few places and making the polished stone slick. Varian walked the perimeter of the room, a hand on the wall. He didn't feel anything odd, nothing that would indicate a secret door or compartment at least, but he refused to give up.

"Guys?" Rapunzel's voice drifted across the room. Varian paused his pacing to look at her; Rapunzel's green eyes were locked on the compass rose design on the floor. "This isn't right," she said, tilting her head.

"How do you mean, sunshine?" Eugene asked. He walked over to Rapunzel, looking at the design as well.

"It's pointing the wrong way," Rapunzel explained. "Look, it's got its north pointing towards the south." She pulled out a working compass from the duffle bag, holding it up. Sure enough she was right, the arrow spinning and pointing toward the door. Rapunzel remained kneeling near the design, running a hand along it once more.

Varain drew close, inspecting it again. It was a darker stone, embedded in the marble with perfect accuracy. When Rapunzel squatted down next to it and ran a hand across the compass her fingers never hit even a groove. Varian mimicked her, pausing when he saw something strange in a puddle nearby.

It was on the edge, overlapping where the two types of stone met, and in the puddle Varian could see small bubbles of air floating up. He scooted over. His brows furrowed in thought as he swirled a finger through the rainwater, disturbing it roughly. When it settled again, Varian noticed that the bubbles began to rise once more.

"There's something under here," he said softly.

"What?" Rapunzel asked, leaning closer.

"Look," he pointed to the bubbles. "There must be a space under the floor, there's air coming up through a seam in the rock."

Rapunzel blinked, nodding. Eugene took a peek as well, patting Varian on the back.

"Good catch guys," he said, "Now we just have to figure out how to get down there. I don't suppose either of you brought shovels?"

Varian huffed a laugh through his nose, poking at the design again. Rapunzel did the same, to his left.

"I still don't understand," she mumbled, "Why include a compass and have it point the wrong way?"

Varian tuned her out for a second, watching the bubbles. Eugene began to poke at the center of the compass rose, Varian was ready to ignore him too before a subtle click was heard. The boy snapped his attention back, seeing Eugene fiddling with the center of the design, which had popped up and out of the floor.

"Woah," Varian said, "How'd that happen?"

Eugene shrugged, tugging at the centerpiece. Varian and Rapunzel scooted backward, watching with curiosity as the entire design of the compass rose slowly lifted from the floor, held by a small contraption in the very center. It was only a few inches off the ground now, but Varian still looked at in in fascination.

"Rapunzel," he caught her attention, "What way did you say true north actually was?"

Rapunzel caught on to what he was asking, pulling out her compass. "It's towards the door," she said. She twisted a little, looking directly behind them. Varian smiled, feeling a rush of satisfaction as he grabbed one of the points of the compass, the west one, to be exact, and gave it an experimental push. Sure enough the large design began to spin on its axis, still parallel to the floor and supported by the mechanism in the center.

The alchemist kept pushing, slowly rotating the stone until it had gone in a perfect half-circle. The north arrow finally pointed to true north, as it should have. Varian then pressed gently in the center, putting it back down into its original spot in the floor.

They all held their breath, waiting for something to happen. Rapunzel reached for Eugene's hand, eyes wide, while Varian set a hand on an anxious Ruddiger's paw. Varian held his breath, listening for anything at all; the only sound was the pelting rain above, an occasional gust of wind, and his own excited heartbeat.

They waited a second more, before Eugene slumped forward with a dramatic sigh. "Damn," he sighed, "I was actually thinking we had it-"

The coffin in front of them burst open like a balloon.

All three of them shrieked, jumping out of the way in a tangle of limbs and panic. Varian ended up with an elbow to the gut, letting out an oomph as they all hit the floor. His own landing was soft, cushioned by poor Eugene. Stone fragments rained down on all of them, clattering to the floor like hail. Varian covered his head with his arms, keeping Ruddiger covered as well; it wouldn't go well to get a shard to the eye.

Eventually the aftermath settled. Varian chanced a look toward the tomb, grimacing when he saw the entire lid, statue included, absolutely decimated by whatever explosive had been set inside.

"Is everyone okay?" he asked, slowly pushing his aching body into a kneel. Eugene groaned, facedown on the floor and seemingly unwilling to move but unhurt. Rapunzel was behind him, sitting up and rubbing at her head.

"We're alright," she said, "Are you?"

"Fine," Varian dusted a bit of the dirt from Quirin's cloak. "Fine, I think Eugene broke my fall."

"Yer we'chom," Eugene grumbled, his voice muffled by the floor he refused to get up off of. Varian bit his lip, trying not to laugh, and instead forced aching arms into pushing the boy to his feet. He slowly approached the coffin, coughing and trying to wave the plume of smoke away from his face.

"What was that?" Rapunzel asked, "Some kind of explosion?"

Varian coughed again. This probably wasn't good for his lungs. "Gunpowder, I think," he replied.

He inched closer, peeking into the gaping maw left behind. Varian blinked, a wry smile crossing his face.

The coffin was not only empty, but not a coffin at all. Varian waved dirt from his face, looking down into the hollow shell created by the coffin, covering a dusty old stone staircase that led deep into the earth. There was no corpse, hell at this point it seemed like the entire tomb had been a coverup for something much, much bigger.

"Guys," he waved them over. "I think we just found our way in."

Eugene and Rapunzel were taking behind him, but Varian tuned them out and put his hands on the lip of the coffin, swinging a leg over. He tested the stairs, grinning when they held strong. He brought the other leg in, taking the first step down.

"Ah, hey kid?" Eugene asked, "Maybe we shouldn't be going down the creepy staircase in the graveyard. Do you want ghosts? Because this is definitelyhow you get ghosts."

Varian looked down into the darkness, shrugging.

"I dunno, I have the afternoon free," he replied.

Eugene paused, before rolling his eyes. "If we end up haunted, I'm blaming you, goggles," he grumbled. Rapunzel giggled next to him, following Eugene's lead as they trailed Varian down the steps.

The stairs were long and thin, a straight shot down into the deep. Much like in the mausoleum, torches sprung to life when they drew close, only to snuff out once they'd passed. Varian grew used to the dim light, his eyes adjusting slowly to the darkness the further down they got. Rainwater followed them down, drip, drip, drip that echoed in the quiet.

Soon enough they hit the bottom, after nearly a full minute of descent. It was cold, so far underground; Varian couldn’t help but shiver as he peered through the darkness at the foot of the stair. There was nothing but a hallway; one way forward. Varian peered into the depths, not seeing anything untoward lurking in the dark but still cautious. He turned to his friends, seeing both of them looking nervous.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I think it's creepy-" Eugene began, but Rapunzel cut him off.

"It might be dangerous," she admitted. "But if she- if your mother needed a place to hide, I could see this being a good one. If you want to keep going, we will." She pulled a piece of chalk from her dress pocket, and made a little arrow on the wall, pointing toward the staircase. "I'll add these as we go, that way we can find our way back if we need it."

"Haunted," Eugene grumbled again.

Varian snorted, taking a small step back toward the stairs. He felt his foot catch on something and looked down with a gasp. A small trip wire, barely noticeable, was caught on his boot.

"Oh, that's not good," he muttered. Eugene and Rapunzel followed his gaze, the two of them already moving. Varian felt two pairs of arms grab his own, dragging him forward and away from the stairs in a dead sprint as there was a loud poppingnoise coming from the walls.

With a horrible BANG the ceiling above the staircase crumbled, the large stones dropping to the floor in a plume of dust and smaller rocks. The noise it made was deafening, echoing through the thin halls and into his chest, rattling up his spine and into his brain. All Varian could register was the noise, flinching away as the ceiling continued to collapse.

Rapunzel and Eugene stopped a few meters away, all three of them watching with horror as the rocks continued to crumble down, quickly covering the way they'd come from with a pile of boulders and loose earth. The light from the staircase got dimmer and dimmer, unable to break through the stone. Varian felt a pulse of pure, primal terror as the sunlight was thinned out to a single, weak beam. With a tense note of finality, the last stone came down, covering their last hint of the surface and cutting off the light once and for all.

And then, there was nothing left but the dark.

[elenajohansenreads]

Books I Read in 2021

#83 - Shadowmarch, by Tad Williams

Mount TBR: 69/100

Beat the Backlist Bingo: Cover features your favorite color prominently

Rating: 1/5 stars

Well, that was a slog.

So I have a history with this piece of intellectual property. I was introduced to Williams as an author in college (1998) because several of the friends I made my first year were big fantasy nerds--no surprise there--and I was perfectly ready to move on from my high-school-era love of less sophisticated fantasy authors. I borrowed The Dragonbone Chair from one of those friends and off I went.

So in 2001 when news about Williams writing an online serial went around, and I saw the $15 price tag...well, I was a perpetually almost-broke college student still, and sure I spent money on books, but that was a high gateway, because a) I didn't own my own computer yet, I was borrowing friends' or using the computer lab to write papers and such; and b) sure, a chunky fantasy novel might be $7 or $8 in paperback, but it was portable, easy to reread whenever, and nobody had tablets or smartphones or e-readers yet, so an online serial publication was definitely not portable. Even fifteen dollars seemed like too much for the inconvenience of a book I could only read sitting at a computer, and couldn't read all of at once.

I was genuinely angry about this shift away from the paradigm, and much like Williams vowing this serial was online only and would never be published traditionally (which I distinctly remember but don't actually have a source for) I too vowed that I would never read it.

I held out much longer than he did, if my memory of that claim is even true. But I'm wishing now that I hadn't bothered.

This is bad. Not even close to the level of quality I expect from Williams, based on the earlier Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn series, as well as War of the Flowers--which was weird but I enjoyed it--and the Otherland series, which was even weirder and not always good, but yeah, I still enjoyed that too, for the most part.

Who am I supposed to care about in this book? I'm no stranger to multiple protagonists, but there are simply too many here, meaning none of them get the development time they would need to be interesting. I'm trying to wean myself from the complaint that protagonists need to be "likable," because a character can be a jerk and still be interesting, but few of these protagonists are particularly likable either!

1. Barrick is a whiny jerk who folds under pressure and abdicates responsibility to his sister, and then makes a spectacularly bad decision for no reason other than to set up some tension at the end, and his future arc. If it's because he's "mad," bad plot reason, and if it's because he's affected by the more general shadow-madness, well, I guess he could be vulnerable to it like anyone else, but that's pretty flimsy too. 2. Briony is a fairly standard "if only I weren't a woman, people would take me seriously" princess who doesn't fold as much under pressure but is dealt a really raw deal. I'll give her credit, she does legitimately try her best to rule her lands, but she's also kind of a whiny jerk like her brother, too. 3. Quinnitan is...pointless. Sure, I see how the end of her arc in this book echoes those of the Eddon twins, but there is no direct connection between her plot and anyone else's. And I mean that literally, if there's anything that ties her story to any other single part of the book, I simply do not see it, it's buried in lore or foreshadowing that was lost on me amid the sheer weight of nearly 800 pages of plodding narrative. I read all of her scenes constantly wondering why I should care, and the fact that her arc is a very basic harem plot, "I don't want to be a token wife but really what choice do I have?" sort of thing, doesn't help, because on its own it's incredibly unoriginal. 4. Chert is marginally likable, because he's arguably got the most defined personality and most personal growth in the book, as a person of a "little" race who is distinctly not human--I get a mix of gnome and dwarf, with a faint whiff of Podling from The Dark Crystal--and who deals with an unexpected foundling by taking him into his family and trying to make it work, even when that foundling is really a big blank space in the story who still manages to get into trouble. 5. Captain Vansen gets points from me for being the guardsman deep in unrequited love, which is a trope I would absolutely eat up with a spoon. The problem is, the object of that love is a protagonist I don't care for (Briony,) leading me to question what the eff he's thinking that he can even admire her from a distance, let alone be in infatuation/love. And his plot arc is mostly "something goes wrong that's not really has fault but everyone blames him anyway." Which got dull.

Chert and Vansen are most of the reason this book gets a second star*, honestly. Chert's scenes with the Rooftoppers are generally pretty excellent, even if they're mostly tied to a plot arc that I don't care for.

The other thing that's getting me about this is that it feels like a deliberately grim-dark retread of Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn. You've got a castle that's the seat of current government but used to belong to the enemy--the enemy that no one is sure even exists anymore, that lives in a land far enough away to feel distant but also somehow close enough to be threatening, once people believe in them again. That castle is perched upon magically important ruins/caverns, and that enemy has forms of magic/communication that affect humans and can cause or appear symptomatic of madness. There's a race of small likable people who aren't quite dwarves or any other "standard" fantasy race, but are still somehow cute/appealing. There's a crippled prince who's not really well-liked. One of the primary female protagonists is a young woman who laments the limitations of her womanhood under the patriarchal feudal system of the world.

And to someone who's never read either of these series, that list of similarities could mostly read like fairly common fantasy tropes, and I forgive anyone who reads this review and thinks that. But I've read MSaT probably ten times all the way through in the twenty-plus years since I was introduced to it, and I feel like I've just been handed the same story again, with a thick coat of gray paint slathered on it and a few details changed--and those changes are basically always for the worse. No one in this story can be said to be a direct equivalent to Simon, who gets a very clear hero's journey, but if I'm supposed to slot Barrick in as a Simon/Josua mashup (that crippled prince problem) then it takes the entire book to get Barrick out of his comfort zone and on his journey, where Simon got booted from the castle at the end of the first act of the first book.

And that gets at the underlying problem that is at least partially fueling all other problems--this book is clearly just the first act of the larger story, and yes i know! that is what first books do! but this also doesn't have a lot of forward motion on its own, and it doesn't resolve anything aside from the mystery of a single murder at that happens near the beginning. Seriously, all other plot threads get kicked down the road with the "and now they're exiles" theme that the ending has assigned to most of the protagonists. Chert doesn't suffer that fate, but the ending of his story line--also the end of the book itself--is the foundling reasserting that he doesn't know who he is, which is not new information. We've literally not known who he is the whole time, except that we do find out who his mother is, but don't find out how he was taken or why he apparently hasn't aged as much as he should have or what the Qar intended by sending him back "home." The identity of his mother is basically the least important question surrounding him.

I truly feel like I just read a 750-page prologue, and that is not a good feeling.

*Yeah, I told myself this was a two-star book, but by the time I wrote the whole review, it's not and I can't pretend I still believe that. This is a one-star book. This is so bad I don't want to go on with the series, even though it almost has to get better, now that most of our protagonists are out on their journeys. And because it could hardly get worse, right? But this already took up so much of my time (I had to take a week-long break in the middle to binge some romances, as a relief from all this grimdark toil) and even though I've managed to collect secondhand copies of the rest of the series, and they've been sitting on my shelves for a few years waiting for me to invest my energy into them...I'm giving up. Not worth it.

[1-800-channie]

[10:30AM] with Chan;

Note: For my love, as promised, @backhugsforhyunjin ♥ I hope this is what you were asking for.

Warning: Very angst

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　 *･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

If there was a time when Chan treated you like a queen, it was during your pregnancy days.

The sweet boy would send you a text in every chance he could, asking if you were alright or if the baby was quiet and letting you rest.

He would go shopping with you. Helping you choose the cutest outfits for your changing body.

You loved to wake up with him kissing your growing belly, or talking to your baby like the great father he is, completely lost in enjoyment.

Chan loved you more than anything. He knew, from the moment that your eyes locked for the first time, that you would be his wife and mother of his children.

Your wedding was simple and small, just his dear bandmates, his family and yours as well.

The blonde boy always believed that you couldn't become more gorgeous, but when his eyes witnessed your pregnant body, he changed his mind.

But, everything seemed to go down as soon as your baby, Mina, was born. Chan became completely in love with his girl and all of his attention turned to her.

She turned five months when the Stray Kids comeback was scheduled, and it got worst for you.

Since the baby still needed all your attention, you started to work from the house. Designing, after all, could be done from home, and since Mina was a sleepy girl, you could work relatively well.

Your routine was rough. You couldn't sleep much because the baby would wake up crying in the middle of the night, waking you up. And, when she finally falls asleep, you couldn't rest yourself. So, you decided to start working at night.

You had to take care of Mina, clean the house by yourself and even do your work. It was evident on your face that you lost some weight and the dark mess under your sights were showing signs of tiredness.

Your husband's routine was the same ever since then. He would kiss your forehead as goodbye in the morning, and, would do the same as he stepped inside the house passing the three in the morning.

Of course, he would go and kiss his Mina good night as well. And also, always tell her he loved her. Something he hasn't said to you, in months.

You woke yesterday with a new feeling of hope blooming in your chest. Day 15th of May, it's your wedding anniversary of 3 years.

You woke up early, hurrying in making your husband a delicious breakfast. As you happily hummed a song that was stuck in your head, you finished the pancakes, a proud smile displayed on your lips.

But quickly the smile vanished away when Chan appeared in the kitchen: He kissed your forehead, picked his keys from the hall and walked out.

No 'I love you'. No 'good morning baby'. No 'Happy 3 year anniversary.' Nothing.

With teary eyes you gazed all over the food you cooked him: the pancakes, the sweet orange juice, some warm coffee, fresh fruit, and his favorite cereals.

You cooked it all for nothing... 'No!' You thought to yourself. 'He is just tired of all the pressure on him. Chan still loves me.' You notify yourself, cleaning the salty teardrops with the back of your hand.

In the afternoon you texted him 'Have a good afternoon of work, Love' but he didn't text back. It's ok, he is probably working -You thought.

Your baby, Mina, seemed very cheerful and talkative today. Flashing her gummy smile at you, whenever you cutely talked to her. Deciding to try another thing, you dressed her up with a cute pink dress and snapped some precious pictures.

'Do I look pretty?' You joked as you sent some pictures of her to your lover, and for your surprise... Chan replied immediately: 'My baby looks so pretty!'

You smiled as the idea of a new surprise to your lover came to your senses. As soon as the child was peacefully sleeping you dug in your wardrobe for something to wear.

After choosing the whole outfit, you decided to work on your new design for a while, so you could make some time to start cooking dinner.

Everything was ready at nine pm. You took a shower and were smelling like roses. The blue velvet dress was hugging your, now, less curvy body perfectly, making you feel confident. Even your make up was fire, simple but blue, making your hazel eyes sparkle.

In the kitchen there were candles everywhere, making a shady and dark but sensual environment drown the whole place as his favorite food was ready for him to eat as soon as he came home.

To your unhappiness, when Chan came home, it passed the five am and he was too tired to notice your romantic kitchen or the absence of your presence by his side in the bed.

You woke up in the kitchen a few minutes later. The candles still burning, the food now freezing and the house completely silent.

With your heart thumping stupidly fast, you thought something happened to Chan because there was no evidence of him. But you were mistaken.

As you silently footed inside the large bedroom, not to wake up the sleeping newborn, your eyes widened as you saw your husband dozing off on the king-sized bed.

How didn't he noticed that you weren't there? How didn't he noticed the kitchen carefully decorated with candles? Why did he only answer the texts about Mina and left yours? Why hasn't he said he loved you in months?

With burning tears rolling down your cheeks you walked back to the kitchen and began to clean it all. Halfway to all the dishes you were washing, you couldn't glimpse anything from the tears in your eyes and ended you falling asleep sitting on a chair, your head resting over your tear-stained dress.

Chan woke up the next morning, today, with a loving smile, the sunlight was brilliant, making the bedroom have a comfortable and warm atmosphere.

His muscular arm searched for your body, but his hands were only met with cold sheets. Chan immediately opened his eyes.

You weren't in the bedroom. Maybe you were in your creative room, so he walked over there to check. But you weren't there either.

Then he remembered that you love to shower in the morning, so, he walked to the bathroom, only to find silence. No sign of you.

It hit him there. Where were you? Why weren't you by his side?

With fast and worried steps he walked to the kitchen and as soon as his eyes recognized your figure, the tears were already blurring his vision.

There was a burned smell inside, and he recognized it because of the melted candles all around him. His eyes found cooked food at the top of the table and dirty dishes on the sink.

No, no.... He couldn't....

You were even worse: Your face was stained with dry make-up under your eyes and cheeks. Your dress was messy and your heavy breathing suddenly felt like punches in his stomach.

The blonde man picks up his phone and notices the little reminder '3 year marriage anniversary - yesterday'.

Chan falls on his knees in a silent cry. All the memories of what he has been doing making his heart break with blame.

All those months without a single 'I love you'; all those months without giving you the, so worth love... He missed you.

You woke up scared. An unknown sound of sobs filling your ears. The baby... You guessed immediately, but the sight of your husband on his knees by your side made you think twice.

"Chan," You called for him. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

As soon as he recognized your voice, his guilty eyes studied your worried face. He wasted no more time: Chan stood up on his feet and held your body tightly against his:

"I'm so sorry YN. I never meant to hurt you... I swear... I just- I know I have been neglecting you and it's all my fault...." He cried with his face hidden in your shoulder in shame. "I'm such a bad husband. I was so focused on our daughter that I forgot that you needed my love as well... I'm so sorry baby..."

By this time, you couldn't stop the tears from dropping from your stares. You wanted to inform him that its ok, that it doesn't matter, but it does.

You've felt so alone, so lonely...

"Chan..." You whispered fighting back a cry.

"I'm sorry... I will pay more attention to you." Chan said with his lungs full of air. "I love you so much YN. And I will show it to you more, I'll thank you every day, for loving me and for taking care of our daughter." His fingers were caressing your cheeks, and you leaned on his touch.

"I missed you so much, Channie..." You pouted.

"I missed you too, darling." Chan smiled and then proceeded to smooch your lips. Once, twice... until he was satisfied.

"I won't ever neglect you again, love. You are the of my life..." With those last words, you buried your face in the crook of his neck and inhaled his manly perfume, as you hugged him.

You've missed this. You've missed your husband. But it's all good now, he is finally here for you.

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　 　*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

Note: Hello my stars, I'm here but I am not. I'm just passing by to drop this veryyyy long time stamp that I've promised my dear friend to post. I really enjoyed writing it! (I may had shed a tear while writing). Remember, notes and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you so much ♥ Good night (it's passing the 1am here hahA) I'm sorry if there is any mistakes, I'll revise it again tomorrow.　

[jinderellas-castle]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚂𝚘 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝙿𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚒𝚜𝚝 (𝙹. 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔) 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙸𝚗

Here's another fic based off of a song lol. The song is called Friendly Neighborhood Poltergeist and is a fairly cute love song but my dark mind went n o p e and decided to make it pretty fucked up. (There'll be warnings for each chapter that has something that could be triggering) Anywho hope you enjoy

Masterlist

"Robyn are you sure about moving here...?" Jimin's voice was weary as he looked the small house up and down. It's white paint was peeling off and he could already tell that Robyn would have to call over a plumber soon.

"Yeah I am for the third time in the past two minutes," Robyn shouted out as she continued grabbing her boxes from Jimin's car. "You know you could make yourself useful and help me with these boxes."

Jimin flipped Robyn off before grabbing the boxes out of her hands and setting them down on her porch, which was already creaking under the weight.

Jimin knew that Robyn wanted her own place. Ever since they met each other two years ago it was something she would talk about constantly. She wanted to be free and independent, and nothing was wrong with that. But living in a house where a dead boy's body is in the backyard isn't exactly ideal. At least to Jimin it isn't.

"Someone literally died here, why not just come live with me?" Jimin asked, grabbing his phone looking up house repair stores to show Robyn later. Robyn laughed at Jimin's invitation and continued grabbing her stuff.

"Me living with three stinky guys in your tiny ass dorm room? No thank you."

"Aw c'mon at least come visit us more often, Taehyung says he misses you." Jimin could see Robyn's blush from behind her indigo curly hair and couldn't help but be a little jealous of the fact that she blushed at the thought of Taehyung and still treats him as a brother.

After Robyn finished grabbing all her boxes she closed the trunk to Jimin's car and pulled out her key to the house. As she walked to the door she stuck her tongue out at Jimin as he stand there going through his Instagram.

Upon opening the door the first thing she smelled was moss. Scrunching her nose as she walked around the small one story house that will soon be her new home. The floor boards were loose and the wallpaper was bland and outdated, but it wasn't anything Robyn couldn't fix up. Jimin soon joined her in the house, making sure to use exaggerated sounds of disgust to let Robyn know his opinions on the house.

"So where's the grave?" Jimin asked as he covered his nose with his shirt. He didn't understand how she could be comfortable with the disgusting moldy smell smothering the house.

"It's in the backyard by the willow tree, yesterday I came by and planted some flowers," Robyn looked out the window, out towards the little gravestone that stood some thirty feet away from the house. It was covered in the shade of the willow tree that seemed to be leaning on its side.

Robyn knew nothing about the boy buried in the backyard. Nothing over than his name, which even the locals had trouble remembering. Her new neighborhood was very spaced out, a rural area. No one who was alive when the boy died was still living in the area. But it didn't bother her. The way she looked at it was that, there were dead bodies all over the place, so what could one being near her house do to her? She vowed to herself that she would take care of the gravestone and pay her respects to the boy as often as she could. But aside from that she was ready to start her new life.

"You know I should start taxing you for making me have to come pick you up and take you to school. It's not a short drive from the dorms to here." Jimin's playful words knocked Robyn out of her daydreaming and she was quick to flip him off and make her way back outside to start bringing the boxes inside.

"Well if you want to be a little bitch baby about picking your friend up I'll just ask someone else."

"Ouch!" Jimin put his hand to heart and made a hurt face falling to his knees before quickly getting up after realizing how dirty the floor was. As he wiped off his pants he tried to get him and Robyn out of the house. "After we finish bringing these boxes in wanna go grab some pizza?"

"Sure I'm down."

----

At first I wasn't sure if it was true that someone was going to be moving in this house. I mean who in their right mind would want to move into a house where a murder happened. Well I guess this Robyn girl would, and although that's weird, I can't deny that she's beautiful. I was sitting by the old willow tree that's been standing since I was alive and then I heard them talking. Robyn and that guy seem close, but they're not together, at least I don't think so.

I've been alone for a while, longer than anyone should go without human interaction. But I guess I'm not a human anymore right?

--

beep boop

[deepintheblueocean]

IN ANOTHER LIFE

William Choi x Jeong Tae-Ra. Mature Content.

———

Jeong Tae Ra stepped out of her white van for her appointment for the day. She was supporting a medical campaign for the COVID crisis. She walked into the hospital knowing exactly who owned it. As soon as she thought about that one-night moment 4 years ago, he appeared: William Choi.

It made no sense why he got on her last nerves. She was huffing and puffing on having to interact with him, as she saw him walking towards her with that godforsaken smirk, as he threw things at his assistant.

He looks different. More mature. Less accessorized. Gone is the fur coat and the silver chains. She knew he still had his attitude with the way he acted like the ground was his runway. The way he swayed his arms and flipped his hair. The way he still wore his thumb rings. He can be so unbearably vapid, and unbearably hot. She didn't understand why he had such an effect on her.

William Choi spotted her from a mile away. There she was, Jeong Tae Ra, the only woman that had any sort of effect on him. Four years ago, he met her for the first time. A one-night moment that left him speechless and afraid of the way his heartfelt looking at her.

"Jeong Tae Ra!!! Still being a diva at every set? Are you here for charity work? Your assistants look extremely tired, stop harassing their lives!" He says flipping his bangs and adjusting his sunglasses above his head, very stylishly.

"Ya! William Choi, mind your own business! Stop harassing your assistant. How many have you changed through already? Clearly you're unbelievably unbearably!"

Both their assistants knew it was going to be a long night. The sexual tension was so thick, even a knife would have trouble cutting through it.

They both go through the campaign event on their best behavior. Shaking hands, fingers lingering a little too long while handing over the mic. Their relationship was unnecessarily complicated.

As the event ends, they both say goodbye to the people present and involved in making the event happen. She plays nicely as she shakes William's hand to thank him for helping set the event up. While she shoots daggers at him with her eyes, he winks back.

"Manger-nim, I think it'll go to that basement bar tonight. Don't worry about me, you go home. I'll call the driver or hail a taxi." Tae-Ra says.

"Are you sure? I remember what happened four years ago. Please be careful, don't get caught. Be safe"

"Excuse me, you're talking like I'm going to go see him. No thank you. He's such a waste of time. I just want a drink. I'll be fine." She replies to her manager.

Her manager drives her home, where she changes into more comfortable clothes. Clothes she wouldn't be caught dead in, knowing the diva that she is. She grabs the key to her Porsche and heads to the basement bar.

**flashback, four years ago**

Tae-ra had just gotten out of a shoot when she received a million messages from her best friend Yoo In-na, begging her to come on this double date with her. She really wasn't up for it. Men are so annoying and fake around her. It can be really frustrating to watch. However, she could use a drink and she'd do anything for her best friend. Little did she know, she was going to meet the one person that would keep her on her toes.

She asked her manager to drive her to the restaurant they were meeting at. She was wearing a tight outfit, one that accentuated her curves in all the right places. It wasn't scandalous, just a turtle neck body con. Her hair was left open. A hair tie on her left hand. She wore a bare face. While she was known as a diva, makeup wasn't really her favorite accessory. Luckily she had great skin, and a lip balm does wonders for her lips. When she got the place, she was led to a private room. Yo In-na was already waiting for her with her date. He's not here yet? That's kind of rude. Who keeps a woman waiting? This is going to be an interesting night for him. In her mind, she had made up that she was going to make this man feel awful for keeping her waiting.

"Yoo In-na you didn't tell me who was going to be my date."

"Uhhh yeah about that if I told you earlier you would have bailed so I'm sorry for what's about to happen."

"Who is it?"

"It's William Choi."

"Excuse me? William Choi? The playboy William Choi? The one that goes around acting like he owns everything and people worship the ground he walks on? That William Choi? Fuck. In-na you owe me big time for this one."

"I know! I know. I'm so sorry, and you're the best Tae-ra. I'm so sorry."

Just as she finished that sentence, she heard it. It was unmistakably his voice.

"Where is the room, I hope its the biggest room you've got here." He entered, in his fur coat, long silver chains, sunglasses, and finger rings.

Who the fuck wears sunglasses at night. I hate him already. She scoffs.

"Hello everyone, I hope I haven't kept you waiting for too long. But then the party never starts without me." With a pretentious laugh, he sits down takes his sunglasses off, and throws his gum in tissue and tosses it in the trash.

"I guess this is my date," he says as he winks at Tae-ra while sitting down.

Lee Dong Wook, Yoo In-na's date, whispers "William please behave yourself. I really like this girl, don't ruin it for me."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be on my best behavior" he whispers back with a smirk.

Tae-ra, in an extremely agitated mood, decided to drink her weight in alcohol. She was just annoyed by his aura. She would be lying if she didn't think he was super attractive and extremely hot. Something about him really drew her in. But he was known to be an asshole, and she really doesn't need that kind of drama in her life. She just scoffed at him.

She looks drunk he thought. Very cutely drunk. He wanted to take her home, take care of her, and cuddle her in bed kind of cute. Hold up, what was that thought. He's never thought this about any woman. Usually, it's one night stands; a game of seduction. It's never anything more than that. He even has a separate apartment for his escapades, but he's imagining her in his own bed.

They haven't said many words to each other, they just shared a bottle of wine. She's looking at him like she's about to bite his head off. She's so cute. He needs to snap out of these thoughts. He's the William Choi, after all. He only breaks hearts. 

Their date was coming to an end, surprisingly to William's dismay. Dong Wook said he'd take Yoo In-na home. While Yoo in-na protested a little, she caught glimpses of how William was looking at Tae-ra. She knew Tae-ra would be safe with him, so she allowed William to drop a drunk Te-ra back home.

"William behave yourself! And thank you for dropping her back home," Yoo In-na replied.

William told his driver to follow him while he drove her Porsche back to her house. He carried her from the car seat as she put her arms around him. Gone was the facade of the asshole.

In all honesty that was just a pretense for the world, he wasn't actually the asshole everyone makes him to be. It was just easier to not display vulnerability in a cutthroat world and society. That's something he learned from his father. You can't have people walk all over you.

As he picked her up out of her car, he could hear her slurred words "I am Tae-ra! Are you a part of Tae-ra-byte? You should be? How could you not be? I won a daesang you know. I'm a famous actress. You should be my fan. I'm the famous actress Tae-ra, you handsome man.

He giggled as he laid her down on her bed. He went out to grab a glass of water, and some aspirin to leave on her bedside. He took a look around and realized that this house did not look like one that belonged to a diva. It was quite humble and cozy actually.

He placed the water and medicine at her bedside. He sat next to her for a moment wanting to look at her face when she's not scoffing at him for the asshole he is. She was beautiful. Barefaced and perfect. He pushed back a strand of hair as she caught his hand and said, "I don't want to be alone tonight. Please stay. thud thud. He felt out of breath. thud thud. He wanted to stay.

So he did something he's never done before. He laid down next to her. she came closer and nestled her face next to his neck. thud thud, what is going on. He waited until she had fallen asleep. He found it hard to leave. He left a note next to her bed. He couldn't be soft, so he put his facade back up and walked out.

Looking at his driver he said "what?!" as he flipped his hair and tightened his fur jacket. Having been his driver for over a while, ever since he was a kid, he just smiled and shook his head as he let him into the car and drove them home in the wee hours of the morning.

She wakes up in the morning with the worst headache. As she gets up holding her head to look for water, she finds water and drugs right next to her bed with a note attached.

"I had fun last night ;) ."

Excuse me what?!

She quickly looks under the blankets to find that she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday and sighs in relief.

What does he mean by fun? What the hell happened? Then she remembers. TAE-RA WHAT HAVE YOU DONE omo shit what the hell Tae-ra noooooo dammit.

Well, at least she never has to see him again. Oh, she wants to bury herself because of embarrassment. She's never been like that with a guy. thud thud She can feel his fingertips on her face. She yells into her pillow.

*end flashback*

She's awakened out of her thoughts by a car honking behind her. In reality, she's thought about reaching out to him again. He is good looking after all and she has needs, but Tae-ra's ego is way too big for her to reach out to someone she was momentarily vulnerable with.

She parks her car - valet isn't conspicuous enough - and goes to take a seat at her usual spot, all the way at the end of the bar. When she gets there, she sees that it's already taken. Being the diva Tae-ra that she is, she's about to go off when she spots the silver thumb ring. He lifts his head up, and it's none other than William Choi. The person she wants to avoid, but also wants to be next to.

This time it's his turn to be drunk. "Tae-raaaaaaaaa oh my Tae-raaaaaa, I'm a tae-ra-byte for you! What are you doing here? Are you here to see me?"

"NO" she scoffs.

"Can you be a little nicer to me? I've missed you."

She was taken aback by the confession. The William Choi admitting something sp sincere.

Well, since she was already at the bar she decided to order herself a drink. Before she could get to it, he said "the lady will have a martini with an orange twist."

Excuse me how did he know my drink.

"It's been four years Tae-ra, and I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

Her drink arrives and she chugs its contents in one go. She feels soft. William Choi isn't someone she expected to be attracted to. This is the same man that drank a sip of coffee, that he usually likes, and said "what is this disgusting shit" and threw it back at his assistant. This William Choi is making her soft?

"Another one please bartender." She downs that one too.

"Your cheeks are flushed. You look cute." He needs to stop, she thinks.

It's not like she hasn't thought about this once in a while. "I'm scared," she says.

"So am I," he says.

"You wanna get out of here?"

At this point, she's downed three martinis within 10 mins. She's tipsy but aware of her decisions.

"Yes."

She leaves her car parked and takes his vehicle.

His driver asks "the other apartment?" He replies "no, mine."

The entire drive he looks at her like she's the biggest mystery to him. She can't meet his eyes. As he leads her to his loft, he never lets go of her hand. He rarely stops staring at her. This isn't the William Choi she knows.

"My Tae-ra-byte" he suddenly says. Why does he keep saying 'my'?

They barely get into the loft when she holds his face and kisses him. She just needs to know what's going on.

thud thud.

Whose heartbeat was that?

thud thud

It's both of theirs. As she moves away from the kiss, he quickly cups her face and kisses her back with more intensity. Breaking away to say "I've wanted to do this for long. Why do you effect me like this?"

"Why do you affect me like this?" she replies.

She kisses him back with equal desire. As their mouths battle to find air, she opens her mouth further to let his tongue in. They momentarily break away gasping for air. In less than a moment, they were back into it.

Tongues battling. Fingers running through hair. Faces being cupped. Bodies heating up. She wanted this, she wanted to know what it felt like to be next to him. She was curious.

He was curious. Stepping back from the kiss, he caressed her cheek and rubbed his thumb against it. He stared into her eyes, eyes that couldn't meet his. He returns to the lips he's missed so much even though it's barely been a minute. Kissing her gentler this time, he feels her hands raise up to unbutton his shirt.

He holds her hands, "are you sure?"

The player William Choi is asking me if I'm sure. Did he hit his head? Tae-ra gets what Tae-ra wants.

She nods her head, and he dives back in with more fervor. She continues to unbutton his shirt as she feels his hands go under her hoodie. Caressing and pulling her closer like there was any space left between them to cover.

She ran her hands over his sculpted body which elicited a moan from her. He lifter her hoodie off and stared at her mesmerized. Tae-ra wasn't shy. She knew she was desired, but this time the desire was so pure, it made her.....shy?

He held her hand and led them to his bedroom. They stand at the foot of the bed. He takes her bra off. Kissing her neck. Rubbing her nipples. The thumb ring seems to add to the pleasure. As he bites and licks her neck, she moans. It's harder for him to control himself. Her hands reach his pants. She rubs his bulge over his clothing, causing him to breathe deeply at her neck. As she unbuttons his pants, his hands are already up her skirt.

She pushes his pants and boxer down leaving him naked. As he cups her ass, he takes a nipple into his mouth. Then the other. She arches her back wanting more. Unable to control. Needing more. He's rubbing circles in her inner thighs. Massaging but not touching.

"Please," she says as she watches his mouth turn into that sinful smirk.

He pulls her skirt down and pushes her on to the bed. Legs pushed apart. Underwear easily ripped off and pushed aside. She can feel his breath at her entrance. In the next moment, his tongue is swirling at her clit. Fingers inside her. Pushing and pulling in a pleasurable rhythmic pattern. Loud moans indicating her climax, he stops. Kisses the inside of her thighs.

He looks up at her, and there she is. The magnificent creature shooting daggers at him.

Fingers back inside. Thumbs rubbing circles. Soft wet kisses on her belly. Mark leaving bites inside her thighs. He feels her pulsating around his fingers. Back arched and breathless moans. He knew where she was, and he wasn't planning to stop.

Before he could restart. She was up. Their dark lustful eyes meeting. He knew he wasn't going to be able to command anything.

She stood up. Pushed him down the bed. Got on top of him. Led him inside her. Both groaning in pleasure, feeling the warmth inside.

Every movement from her hips was electrifying a thousand neurons in his mind. Up. Down. Up. Down. Whispers in his ear "there is so much you don't know about me."

Pleasured groans. He wanted to find out what else there was to know about her. He could feel her tightening around him. In one swoop motion, he was on top. Harder. Faster. Breathless. Perspiring.

Both their names yelled out at the same moment. Breathless.

"stay. please." This time it was him.

She morphs into his body.

---------

"Good morning my Tae-ra byte. Stay. I ordered breakfast." There he is with that godforsaken smirk.

"Excuse you. I am Jeong Tae-ra. You do not tell me what to do."

Suddenly, the same thought: I'm home.

[taliesinlestrange]

                     or   glimpses  of  before  and  after  christmas  of  1947 .

AFTER :   taliesin  lestrange  is  home,  if  not  for  good,  then  for  a  while,  and  he  plans  to  take  action,  to  make  his  family  proud.

BEFORE :   there  is  a  boy  who  sits,  for  the  most  part  alone,  hurting,  in  a  room  somewhere  in  the  swiss  alps.  sometimes  he’s  allowed  to  come  home  for  parties.

BIG ,  WANNA  BE .        i  wanna  be  big,  bigger  than  life,  i’m  gonna  be  huge  or  i  just  won’t  feel  right.      there’s  snow  on  the  ground  outside,  but  it’s  the  first  time  in  a  decade  when  christmas  doesn’t  feel  like  a  taunting  reprieve.  you  used  to  know  that  the  weights  they  lifted  off  your  shoulders  for  the  holidays  were  still  hanging  above  you,  ready  to  be  replaced  come  the  new  year.  this  time  is  different  though,  you’ve  found  the  plans  to  secure  them,  to  better  distribute  the  weight.  this  time  it  will  work,  this  time  the  pain  won’t  be  yours,  this  time  your  father  will  smile  when  he  sees  your  work  and  accept  you  as  his  son.  you  just  have  to  act  boldly.      you  can’t  ask  me  to  stop,  i  push  it  on  my  own,  i’ve  been  through  way  too  much  shit  to  ever  let  this  go.

SICK  JOKE .      sometimes  i  wonder  if  life  is  some  sick  joke,  will  i  wake  up  and  it’s  over  ?      every  day  hurt  when  you  were  there.  the  easier  days  were  exhausting,  the  worse  days  painful  or  frightening.  sometimes  you  wished  for  it  all  to  go  away,  sometimes  you  wished  for  home,  sometimes  you  wished  you  could  just  sleep  a  little  bit  longer.  mostly,  you  wished  someone  would  tell  you  that  things  were  going  to  be  okay.      would  you  tell  me  that  i’m  okay  ?  that  i’m  still  here  and  i’m  not  dead.

DISLOYAL  ORDER  OF  WATER  BUFFALOES .      i’m  coming  apart  at  the  seams,  pitching  myself  for  leads  in  other  people’s  dreams.       new  starts  aren’t  clean,  cut  and  dry  things,  like  they  were  in  the  stories  you  loved  as  a  child.  you  gave  up  on  the  idea  that  magic  would  spring  from  your  unsteady  hands  if  you  just  found  the  right  circumstance  years  ago   (   the  phrase   the  right  circumstance   was  a  weapon  in  their  hands,  wasn’t  it  ?   ),  but  you  kept  it  to  yourself  after  the  one  time  you  didn’t.  that  was  a  mistake.  the  thought  seems  clearer,  more  focused,  now  that  you  have  a  bit  more  time  before  you  have  to  get  on  that  train  again.  when  they  tell  your  family’s  story  though,  this  will  be  the  moment  they  say  you  made  the  choice  to  forge  your  own  way,  even  if  its  been  beneath  the  surface  for  far  longer.      and  i’d  promise  you  anything  for  another  shot  at  life,  imperfect  boys  with  their  perfect  ploys,  nobody  wants  to  hear  you  sing  about  tragedy.

PLEA  FROM  A  CAT  NAMED  VIRTUE .      and  listen,  about  those  bitter  songs  you  sing  ?  they’re  not  helping  anything.      when  some  of  your  wishes  finally  came  true,  you  arrived  home  with  exhausted  limbs  and  psyche.  still,  you  straightened  your  spine  and  attended  the  parties  your  parents  directed  you  to.  yet,  when  you  didn’t  have  to  paint  on  a  smile,  you  buried  yourself  in  comfort  and  sound.  large  sweaters  at  the  piano  at  first,  then  under  blankets  with  the  phonograph  on  once  the  bench  no  longer  offered  the  feeling  of  consolement,  but  rather  only  reminded  you  of  where  you  had  gone  wrong.      we’ll  pass  around  the  easy  lie  of  absolutely  no  regrets.

MORE  ABOUT  ALCOHOLISM .      but  i  don’t  want  to  burn  out,  so  won’t  you  please  set  me  on  fire  again?  i  woke  up  afraid  of  losing  everything,  thank  god  that  i  already  have.      besides  your  image,  you  have  nothing  to  lose.  outcast  already,  or  perhaps  more  accurately,   held  at  a  distance  just  comfortable  enough  for  your  parents   ;  careful,  this  toy  is  marked  for  display  only,  the  image  of  you  is  his  creation.  combine  that  with  the  acceptance  you’ve  reached,  and  it  creates  something  dangerous.  there’s  a  dark  fire  inside  of  you,  and  all  it  wants  is  acceptance,  but  here  you  are,  pushing  people  away  and  looking  for  what  you  need  in  all  the  wrong  places.     but  since  the  day  i  was  born,  it’s  been  too  late  for  me  to  be  anything  but  what  i  am  tonight.

LIAR  [  IT  TAKES  ONE  TO  KNOW  ONE  ] .      we’ve  got  twenty  six  days  to  work  with,  we’ll  see  what  all  gets  done.     the  short  sprints  they  brought  you  home  for  only  offered  so  much  rest,  certainly  not  enough  to  make  up  for  a  whole   semester  at  beauxbatons.   still,  you  did  your  best,  not  wanting  to  disappoint.  lies  became  the  seventh  language  in  your  repertoire,  the  first  six  having  failed  to  impress  your  father  the  way  you  hoped  they  would.      it’s  still  a  question  of  “  how  long  will  this  hold  ?  ”

THE  WOLF .      you’ll  keep  telling  me  i’m  bad  for  me  and  worse  for  the  world,  you  keep  telling  me  i’m  bad.      now  that  you’re  home,  home  for  longer  than  you’ve  been  in  quite  some  time,  your  father  takes  it  upon  himself  to  remind  you  more  frequently  how  you  could  ruin  everything.  you  exist  in  a  paradoxical  state  of  being  the  cherished  son  and  the  worst  thing  that  ever  happened  to  him.  it  drives  you  to  keep  pushing,  find  your  own  ways  to  claw  to  success.  this  was  never  about  becoming  a  monster,  something  cruel,  but  here  you  are.      my  teeth  are  sharpest  when  i  tear  out  the  truth,  am  i  the  boy  who  cried  or  am  i  the  wolf  ?

PANIC  ATTACK .      i  wanna  be  normal,  i  wanna  be  sane,  i  wanna  look  at  you  and  feel  something  other  than  pain.     this  isn’t  working,  this  isn’t  working.   you  want  to  scream,  but  the  last  time  you  had  even  raised  your  concerns  you  could  barely  speak  above  a  whisper.  the  last  time  it  didn’t  end  well.  one  day  you’ll  grow  out  of  this,  you  make  that  the  second  promise  you’ll  one  day  live  up  to.  for  now,  you’ll  just  try  to  remember  how  to  breathe.      i  wanna  sleep  till  i  can’t  feel  anything,  i  want  a  fix,  i  want  a  friend,  i  wanna  cut  these  nerves  from  under  my  skin.

BAD  GUY .       i  guess  if  i  gotta  play  the  villain,  i’ma  sign  a  deal  and  make  a  killing.      what  would  you  do  to  make  this  happen   ?   what  would  you  do  to  make  this  work  out   ?   anything,  anything.  you  would  do  whatever  you  had  to.  you  don’t  think  about  what  the  group  you  joined  is  really  doing,  not  because  if  you  did  you  would  come  to  some  deeper  revelation   (   they  are  just  expanding  on  the  beliefs  you’ve  been  taught  since  you  were  young,  the  same  ideas  you  used  to  make  yourself  feel  better  about  what  you  were  when  things  seemed  the  darkest   ),   but  because  you  don’t  care.  if  this  is  the  way  the  world  is  going,  you  need  to  be  there.  the  ends  will  justify  the  means.      gotta  make  ends  and  make  amends,  pay  cash  when  i’m  paying  for  my  sins. .

POINT  /  COUNTERPOINT .      i’ve  got  a  gun  in  my  hand  but  the  gun  won’t  cock,  my  finger’s  on  the  trigger  but  that  trigger  seems  locked.     the  magic  is  supposed  to  be  inside  of  you,  and  they’ve  tried  nearly  everything  to  draw  it  out.  it  isn’t  working.  the  days  begin  to  blend  together  and  you  make  very  little  progress.  their  methods  get  more  extreme,  which  makes  the  days  feel  longer  and  harder  to  tell  apart.      and  the  days,  and  the  days  they  seem  like  forever,  but  forever  isn’t  ever  enough.

WTF  IS  SLEEP .      finding  comfort  in  feeling  like  hell  and  it’s  only  the  things  you  do  and  say  that  you  regret.      that  feeling  doesn’t  go  away.  the  one  you  promised  yourself  was  because  of  where  you  were,  the  one  you  told  yourself  you  would  out  grow.  it  follows  you,  and  you  start  to  wonder  if  it’s  something  more  inherent ;  another  piece  of  difference  or  maybe  some  curse  that’s  slipped  in  and  replaced  the  gifts  you  were  supposed  to  posses.      set  no  alarm  cause  i  am  totally  guaranteed  to  wake  to  my  chest  beating  for  miles  ahead  of  me.

PERFECT .      and  now  i  try  hard  to  make  it,  i  just  want  to  make  your  proud.     you  tried  so  hard,  didn’t  you  ?  you  tried  so  hard,  i  know.  you  wonder  if  they’ve  given  up  hope  too,  if  that’s  why  they  agreed  to  this  extended  break.  you  back  your  bags,  not  for  the  last  time,  but  at  least  for  the  last  time  in  a  while.  this  place,  for  all  its  pain,  reminded  you  that  they  cared.  as  the  days  till  your  return  slip  away,  you  become  less  and  less  sure  about  what’s  happening,  about  going  home  for  longer  than  a  summer  break.  this  is  all  you’ve  ever  known,  but  you  also  know  there’s  nothing  else  they  can  do  for  you.      you  can’t  pretend  that  i’m  alright,  and  you  can’t  change  me.

I  JUST  WANT  TO  SELL  OUT  MY  FUNERAL .      i  just  want to  be  enough  for  everyone,  i  just  want  to  sell  out  my  funeral,  know  that  i  fought  until  the  lights  were  gone.      while  things  are  different  now,  your  motivations  are  much  the  same.  the  frightened  eleven  year  old  boy  who  stepped  off  the  train  station  with  hope  that  he  could  unlock  was  inside  of  him  is  only  inches  different  from  the  adult  who  collects  information  like  it  is  currency  and  with  little  care  for  who  he  harms  when  he  makes  purchases.  there  was  a  promise  made  of  who  you  would  be  when  you  were  born,  and  by  the  time  you  die  you  want  to  fulfill  it.  you  still  think  it’s  your  fault  that  you  haven’t  yet,  and  no  one  has  told  you  anything  different.     i'll  stay  thankful  for  mild  winters,  for  every  shot  i  got  at  anything,  i’ll  blame  the  flaws  that  i  was  born  with  or  the  mistakes  that  i’ve  made.

FORTUNATE  SON .      some  folks  are  born  silver  spoon  in  hand,  lord,  don’t  they  help  themselves.     sometimes  you  wonder  what  it  would  be  like  to  be  like  morys.  you  know,  sitting  on  the  train  back  to  wales,  that’s  who  your  parents  wish  you  were.  or  someone  like  him.  they  threw  exorbitant  amounts  of  money  at  your   particular  issue   but  they  couldn’t  make  you  anything  like  him.  that’s  not  who  you  are  ...   you’ll  have  to  find  your  own  way.  that  doesn’t  mean  you  don’t  feel  a  little  guilty.      it  ain’t  me,  it  ain’t  me,  i  ain’t  no  fortunate  one.

[echoes-of-realities]

be my fire in the cold (and I'll be waiting by the mistletoe) - 6/25

* * *

[From the Start] // [Fanfiction] // [ao3]

[Previous Chapter] // [Next Chapter]

Chapter Summary: Brittany’s never believed theatre rumours; Brittany really doesn’t like bullies.

Notes: Warning for minor homophobia

Chapter 6: sure we'll be laughed at, but we all know

///

Brittany wakes up to the faint smell of bacon and hash-browns. She’s disorientated for a second, wondering how in the world her window managed to change walls in the middle of the night and when her pale yellow sheets turned grey, before she realizes that she’s curled up in Mercedes’ bed, the afghan that’s usually draped over the foot of the bed tangled around her shoulders under the comforter. The skin of her face feels raw and tight, the kind of tightness that comes from not wiping away her tears before falling asleep, and she’s somehow still exhausted despite her deep, dreamless sleep. She can hear Mercedes in the kitchen, frying pans knocking together and the kettle screaming, and Brittany sighs and buries her face in one of the pillows thrown around the head of the bed; it smells like Mercedes’ lavender shampoo, and a hint of Sam’s cologne and her own honeysuckle and jasmine body wash from when they all have movie nights and curl up in Mercedes’ room because she has the comfiest mattress. Brittany breathes in deeply, hoping the scents she’s always associated with her best friends will soothe her.

It doesn’t really manage to take her mind off Lord Tubbington though.

The door eases open and Brittany can tell Mercedes is hovering in the doorway, debating whether to wake Brittany or let her sleep.

“Morning,” Brittany croaks, making the decision for her.

Mercedes sighs, so softly that Brittany barely hears it, and crosses the room, settling on the bed somewhere by Brittany’s hip. She hesitates for a moment, but before Brittany can say anything, her warm body is pressing to Brittany in a fierce hug; she smells of breakfast food and coffee and clean from her morning shower. Brittany sighs and sinks back into the embrace. “How are you feeling?” Mercedes whispers.

Brittany manages a little shrug. “I dunno. Sad and, like, empty, I guess. Like when you’re really, really hungry in the middle of the night and you can feel how empty your stomach is empty, except everywhere.”

Mercedes nuzzles closer, and Brittany can picture her face, her brows drawn a little together and the skin around her mouth tight. “I’m so sorry, Britt-Britt,” she whispers.

“Thanks,” Brittany mumbles.

Mercedes is quiet for a moment while Brittany stares blankly out the window. It’s surprisingly clear out, sunbeams streaming through the thin curtains and making swirling patterns on the carpet. “You could take the day off,” Mercedes suggests finally.

Brittany shrugs. “I dunno,” she mumbles, “I just want the day to be normal, you know?” Mercedes hums against her shoulder in acknowledgement. “Besides, dancing always helps me forget about everything, and I kinda need that right now, you know?”

Mercedes hums again, and Brittany sighs. She doesn’t really feel teary anymore, just tired and empty and lonely, even with Mercedes pressing comfortingly all along her back, breathing in sync with her. Eventually Mercedes crawls off the bed and tugs Brittany up after her, and they both follow their noses back to the kitchen where Mercedes has breakfast set up all along the counter, a mug of steaming hot chocolate sitting in front of Brittany’s stool at the kitchen island, whipped cream piled so high it hasn’t even melted all the way in yet. Brittany smiles at Mercedes’ back, feeling warmth curl in her chest, grateful that she has a best friend who knows her so well. They dish up breakfast quietly before settling into their usual spots breakfast spots and eat in comfortable silence.

“I forgot to ask last night, because of— Everything,” Mercedes finally says, “But how did you get home? I didn’t realize my phone was on silent until this morning and I’m so sorry if you tried to call me for a ride.”

“Oh, no it’s fine,” Brittany shrugs a little and pokes at her eggs, “Santana and I shared an Uber home.” She points to the southeast, where their front door is, with a forkful of eggs. “She lives like ten-ish minutes that way.”

“That’s nice of her,” Mercedes says, smiling just a little bit at Brittany.

Brittany feels the corner of her lip turn up in return, just a little bit, and the ache in her chest eases at the warm smile on Mercedes face. “Yeah,” she says simply.

Mercedes hums and, despite the slight smirk tugging on her lips, she remains silent. Brittany insists on cleaning up since Mercedes did all the cooking, before she heads to her room and calls her mom. Her mom puts her on speakerphone with her dad and her sister, and they spend most of the morning reminiscing on Lord Tubbington’s antics. By the end of it Brittany finds herself feeling a little bit better; talking about how much they all loved Tubbs and laughing about how many times food would suddenly go missing and Tubbs would suddenly get fatter makes her feel lighter, until the ache behind her eyes is almost gone. And when Mercedes knocks quietly on her door so they can head to the theatre, Brittany doesn’t feel quite so alone anymore.

//

Mercedes has to go talk to Kurt about something as soon as they get there, so Brittany ends up wandering the theatre by herself after they check in at the call board. She stops in at her favourite rehearsal room in the hopes that she can blast some music and forget about everything for a little while before she has to start warm ups with the company, but instead finds Jake and Jane practicing the Pas de Deux from the second act. They call out greetings to her and she waves at them before heading back the way she came.

“Hey, Brittany!”

Brittany glances over her shoulder and finds Puck coming up behind her, his arms full of props. “Hey,” she greets quietly.

“Do you mind giving me a hand?” he asks, and Brittany quickly relieves him of the box blocking his view. “Thanks,” he pants, “I thought I could do it all in one trip, but I don’t want Lopez seeing me and going all crazy spicy Latina on me again for dropping something like she did last time.”

Brittany’s nose wrinkles up. “That’s racist,” she says idly.

Puck doesn’t seem to have heard her; he never does when she calls him out on something. “Speaking of Lopez, did you hear?” he asks, obnoxiously waggling his eyebrows at her. Brittany frowns at him; he looks a little bit like a cartoon character, struggling to see past the props still in his arms, his dumb mohawk stuck to his sweaty forehead, a smirk tugging at his lips that Brittany recognizes as the lecherous leer he gets whenever a new dancer—especially those without any knowledge of his reputation—joins the company. “There’s a rumour going around that she plays for the other team, if you know what I mean,” he says in a stage whisper.

“I’m pretty sure she only works here,” Brittany says tiredly, “it’s part of her contract.”

“Not like her job, Brittany,” Puck explains slowly, and because Brittany is trailing behind him to fit through the entryway that leads to one of the back hallways of the theatre, he doesn’t see her roll her eyes. “Like who she takes to bed type of team.”

Brittany’s not quite sure what to say to that, not because she thinks of Santana any differently now, but because she’s pretty sure this is not something Santana wants floating around the theatre; despite working in the arts, Brittany’s encountered a surprising amount of homophobia, and something about Puck’s leer makes Brittany’s skin crawl.

“Did you hear me?” Puck asks, looking around a candy cane prop blocking his view so he can catch Brittany’s eye, it kind of makes Brittany want to take said candy cane and start beating him with it.

“Yeah, I’m just trying to process how gross you are.”

Puck smirks. “What can I say? Lopez is hot, I’m sure she has hot taste in women, and I like hot things.”

The urge to beat him with the candy cane is growing almost too strong to ignore now; Brittany’s never been particularly prone to violence, and she’s not sure if it’s her grief over Lord Tubbington messing with her emotions, the fact that she likes Santana and hates that there’s already rumours going around about her, the fact that she hates bullies, or some combination of all three, but she’s pretty sure if they don’t reach the prop room soon she’s going to snap.

“Wow,” Brittany says slowly, “You might just be the dumbest person on Earth.”

Puck just shrugs. “Maybe,” he agrees easily, smirking, “But I heard it from Finn who heard it from Santana herself.”

“Why was Santana talking to Finn?” Brittany wonders aloud. Finn’s half-way decent about thirteen percent of the time, and Brittany’s pretty sure his partial decency only exists because he sleeps about thirteen percent of the time.

“She wasn’t, he was down in the principal hallway bringing some extra Christmas ornaments up from storage and he overheard Lopez and Tina talking. Tina was asking if Lopez had been on any dates lately,” Puck pauses until Brittany glances at him before he finishes, delighted like a kid waiting up for Santa on Christmas Eve, “With a girl.”

Brittany shrugs. “Your point?”

“With a girl,” he emphasizes, a far off look in his eyes that makes Brittany feel like she needs a shower, “Like a lesbian.”

“Puck that’s gross,” Brittany says.

“No, it’s hot,” he leers.

Brittany scowls at him. “No, I mean you’re gross for being a creep.”

Puck shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a guy.” Brittany dumps the box she’s carrying on top of the pile in Puck’s hands, making him stagger under the unexpected weight. “Hey! I thought you were helping!”

Brittany just shrugs as she spins on her heel and walks back the way they came. “I don’t really think I can provide the help you need,” she deadpans over her shoulder.

//

She doesn’t see Santana at all before the show, not even for notes, but she hears the whispers of gossip that Puck mentioned as she heads for the stage during intermission. It makes her blood boil, especially after last night because her emotions are still a little all over the place. She can feel the angry creeping along her fingers and sticking to her stomach, and she can’t quite control the scowl she gives some of the snow corps as she walks past them; they’re the group who is almost always at the root of any rumour.

But before she can do more than glare at them for their whispers, she’s running into something warm and solid and groaning. Her hands automatically reach out to steady the source of the groaning, and then deep, dark eyes are locking on her own.

“Brittany,” Santana says breathlessly, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Brittany easily shrugs, searching Santana’s face for any sign she’s heard the rumours about herself, but Santana’s face is only open and warm and concerned. Brittany suddenly realizes that her hands are still on Santana’s shoulders and she hurriedly pulls them back to her, playing with the hem of her tutu. Santana quickly pushes her headset off of her ears until it’s hanging around her neck, giving Brittany her full attention; it makes Brittany feel vulnerable and important, because she can hear the tinny sound of voices through the headset, but Santana barely seems to notice them. “How are you?” Santana asks, her voice quiet and more tender than Brittany’s ever heard someone’s voice go.

That sharp ache of pain arcs through Brittany’s chest, but she manages a small smile. “I’m good,” she says.

Santana’s face changes a little bit, like she doesn’t quite believe Brittany but doesn’t want to say anything. She leans closer, her voice even quieter. “It’s okay if you’re not,” she whispers, “I get it. I would have understood if you hadn’t come in today.”

Brittany’s breath catches a little bit, like someone reached into her chest and squeezed, and she’s suddenly blinking back tears. “I wanted something normal today,” she finally admits, “You know, to keep my mind off it.”

Santana’s hand suddenly brushes over hers, and the ache in Brittany’s chest eases just a little bit at the gentle squeeze of Santana’s fingers around hers. “I get that,” she murmurs. Brittany’s eyes catch in the deepest groove of Santana’s for a moment and Brittany can see exactly how true Santana’s words are; Brittany’s a little glad when Santana’s eyes dart away because those dark eyes make her feel like a little bit like she’s free falling from an airplane without a parachute, a little bit dangerous and a little bit scary and a whole lot exhilarating. “But if you need anything,” Santana continues, shrugging a little, “Time off or a hug or a friend, I’m good for any of it.”

“Thank you,” Brittany whispers, desperately ignoring the prickle she can still feel behind her eyes. Mercedes already had to help her reapply her makeup once today, and Brittany’s due on stage too soon for her to reapply it again.

Santana seems to realize this and her fingers slide across Brittany’s wrist as she pulls back a little bit; Brittany suddenly realizes she can breathe properly again without ever realizing her breath was caught in her chest in the first place. “Are you up for notes after the show?” Santana asks.

“Oh yeah, you didn’t come for notes earlier,” Brittany says, her question implied rather than outright asked.

Santana rolls her eyes so hard she tosses her head back a little, and Brittany bites her lip at how cute the gesture is. “Yeah, Puck tried to take all the props down in one trip, like a dumbass, and dropped them, of course, and broke a bunch of them. I swear to god this is the only prop department I’ve ever worked with that isn’t completely anal about taking care of the props, but nope, he just cost the company a couple hundred dollars.” Brittany smirks at the image that rises to her mind; she’s not sure if she necessarily believes in karma, but she can definitely admire its handiwork. “Anyways, I went down there for check-ins before half hour and found him trying to clean it all up. He was being,” Santana pauses for long enough that Brittany wants to hug her, and then go and beat Puck with that candy cane prop, “weird, I guess. But after I chewed him out for being a dumbass and not making more than one trip, he shut up pretty quick.”

Brittany laughs a little bit, and her chest feels light for the first time all day. “Emma’s really, really anal about the props, but whenever she’s out sick Finn and Puck completely fall apart.”

“Yeah,” Santana mutters, “So do the props.”

Brittany giggles, and is about to respond when she catches sight of one of the snow corps out of the corner of her eye sneering at Santana. Brittany’s pretty sure her name is Brynn or Bree or something, though she doesn’t pay much attention to the more malicious members of the snow corps; but even if she doesn’t recognize her, there’s this glint in her eyes that Brittany knows all too well, and the sneer on her face carries in her voice as she calls across the stage.

“Watch out there, Sugar Plum,” she snarls, “You wouldn’t wanna get to close. I’m pretty sure lesbianism is contagious.”

Brittany can see the exact moment that Santana processes what was just said, her dark eyes go wide for a second and her spine straightens with a jolt as if someone just yanked on a string at the top of her head. There’s burning anger in Santana’s dark eyes, but Brittany’s pretty sure she could scrape it away with her fingernail and reveal the bright, aching pain underneath.

Brittany feels that bubbling anger she’s felt all day start to give way and she scowls at Brynn or Bree or whatever. Her own anger is bright and flaring, all of the frustration and grief of the last couple weeks surging like liquid fire through her veins. “I’d rather catch lesbianism than whatever it is that’s made your face look like that,” she says, her voice so quiet and dangerous that it shocks Brynn or Bree or whatever into taking a startled half-step backwards. “Is it the snow that makes your face freeze like that or is that just how you’ve always looked?” Brittany continues, slipping into the practiced confusion that’s served her so well over the years, “Either way, don’t get too close to a fireplace. You might melt.”

Brynn or Bree or whatever gets lost in the sea of dancers gathering for the start of act two and Brittany takes a deep breath to calm the blood rushing in her ears before she turns back to Santana. She’s still frozen, her wide eyes on Brittany’s and the set of her shoulders stiff. “Hey,” Brittany whispers, carefully moving closer to Santana, as if she’s an overly cautious bird that might fly away at a sudden movement, “Are you okay?”

Santana blinks, her gaze darting between Brittany’s eyes. Brittany lets Santana stare at her, hoping she finds what she’s looking for. “I— Uh— Yeah,” she stutters. “That was— I mean,” her brown eyes finally still and settle on Brittany’s, and Brittany feels warm all over. “Thank you,” Santana says earnestly, the glow her dark eyes making something in Brittany’s chest shiver.

Heat crawls under her skin and she already knows the pink splotching her cheeks is obvious, even under the dim stage lights. “I’ve been looking for a reason to call her out,” Brittany admits, “She’s always been awful.”

“I—” a particularly loud voice comes through the headset still around Santana’s neck, and Santana jumps a little, only now seeming to realize that one of the other stage managers has been trying to get her attention for a while. She gives Brittany an apologetic, slightly helpless look, but Brittany easily waves her off. Santana quickly pulls her headset back over her ears and mutters something into the mic. She listens intently right as one of the stage hands starts wandering through the dancers, calling five minutes to the end of intermission, and Brittany starts a little, not realizing how much time has already passed.

Santana sighs deeply and draws Brittany’s attention back to her; she’s worrying the notebook in her hands and scowling into space. Brittany smiles a little at the furrow in her brow; she’s not sure what it is about this woman, but pretty much everything about her is adorable. Brittany touches her elbow to draw her attention, and the way her face instantly clears into a small smile when she looks at Brittany makes Brittany feel a little bit like she might be floating. Brittany points towards the curtains and Santana nods quickly. She covers the mic with her hand and her eyes go liquid soft for a moment. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Brittany can feel her heartbeat pound everywhere. “Any time,” she promises.

//

Santana shows up at Brittany’s dressing room just as she’s heading out, and there’s something easy and light in her expression that wasn’t there earlier. Brittany smiles at her until Santana’s dimples crease her cheeks and she looks away breathlessly. “No notes?” Brittany teases.

Santana shrugs and looks shy for a moment, before she takes a deep breath and gestures towards the hallway, waiting until Brittany’s locked the door and they’ve started heading down the hallway to answer. “Not tonight, I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing,” she says easily, bumping her shoulder against Brittany’s, “You did amazing like usual, by the way. Especially, you know, considering everything.”

Brittany smiles a little, and despite the ache in her chest she feels less empty than she did this morning. Between talking to her family this morning, Mercedes being an amazing best friend, and Santana’s understanding, she’s realizing that she has pretty great people in her life. Sure, she misses Tubbs just as much as she did this morning, and she doesn’t think that will every go away completely, but having so many people around who care about her makes her realize that she’s never going to be as lonely as she was when it felt like Tubbs was the only one who understood her.

“What was he like?” Santana asks softly.

Brittany feels her lips curl up a little. “His name was Lord Tubbington,” she says, watching Santana out of the corner of her eye to gauge her reaction.

She does admirably; after letting out an involuntary giggle, she bites down on her bottom lip to stifle her amusement. “Lord Tubbington?” she manages in a mostly calm voice.

Brittany nods seriously. “We called him Tubbs for short.”

Santana turns sparkling eyes on her, and despite the teeth sunk into her lip to contain her smile, her cheeks still dimple. “That’s cute,” she says, her voice bright with amusement.

Brittany grins, and Santana relaxes a little. Brittany glances around the hallway, even though she already knows it’s going to be empty, before leaning close to Santana. She smells of citrus and vanilla and pinewood underneath the clinging scent of the theatre, and it makes something in Brittany’s chest fall into place. “He was really fat,” she whispers.

Santana’s teeth release her lip as she throws her head back with a delighted laugh. “Please tell me you have pictures,” she gasps.

Brittany grins and quickly struggles to tug her phone out of her pocket. She opens it and quickly finds her photos app, pulling up the album of Lord Tubbington’s best pictures. They end up hovering near the end of the principal hallway, huddled over Brittany’s phone as they scroll through pictures of, what Santana deems, the fattest and most adorable cat in the world. Brittany narrates some of Tubbs’ best moments, including the time he somehow got onto the table one New Year’s Day supper and shoved his head into the cheese fondue, and the time he got out of the house only to be picked up and cared for by a biker gang until they saw his lost posters and brought him back home. Santana’s completely enamoured by the stories Brittany tells, and it’s fun and therapeutic to reminisce on all of her adventures with, in Brittany’s humble opinion, the best cat in the world.

Mercedes had already left to pick up some snacks for them because, despite it being almost ten o’clock at night, she always knows how hungry Brittany is after a show, and since Santana’s ride had to go met up with her mom and dad, Santana offers to share another Uber back to their apartments, much to Brittany’s delight. Brittany quickly texts Mercedes that she doesn’t need a ride and she’ll meet her back at the apartment instead.

They reach the back exit and spill onto the street in a fit of giggles as Brittany narrates how the first and only time she tried smoking when she was fourteen, she heard her mom coming in the front door early and promptly framed Tubbs for the smell of smoke lingering on her clothes so her mom wouldn’t get mad at her (it didn’t work, of course, but her mom found it so amusing that she let Brittany off with only a stern warning that, if Tubbs ever did it again, he’d end up grounded for the rest of his life).

They direct the Uber driver to Brittany’s apartment first, and Santana keeps asking questions about Lord Tubbington, much to Brittany’s surprised delight. Santana hangs onto her every word, as if she’s the most interesting thing Santana’s ever seen, and it makes something lifting and bright curl in Brittany’s chest. They reach her and Mercedes’ apartment far too soon in Brittany’s opinion, and she quickly gives Santana money for her half of the fare, insisting on it when Santana tries to refuse because Santana didn’t let her pay her half last night. Santana eventually accepts, though with much whining reluctance, and Brittany grins, triumphant, and turns to get out of the car. Her fingers have barely wrapped around the handle of the door when Santana’s hand on hers freezes her. “Hey,” she whispers.

Brittany feels something deep in her chest leap to attention. “Hey,” she whispers back.

“I’m really glad you told me about Lord Tubbington,” Santana says quietly, “And I’m really glad to see you smiling again, even though I know you must still be hurting.”

Brittany’s breath leaves her all at once and all she can manage is a small shake of her head and a soft smile. “Thanks for listening,” Brittany whispers.

Santana’s nose scrunches up a little and those dimples crease her cheeks. “Anytime, Britt. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Santana,” she whispers, finally crawling out of the car and carefully shutting the door behind her. She watches as its taillights head east towards the first set of lights before turning south towards Santana’s apartment.

Brittany takes a moment to breathe in the crisp night air before turning and heading into her apartment building; she still keenly misses Tubbs but, unlike she had that morning, she’s doesn’t feel so lonely anymore.

[mellicose]

I'll toss ya a challenge. Chris, dildo, fluff

Chris is the bestest. Enjoy!

He bounced gently on her bed, and caressed her bedsheets. They were a pale silvery blue, in a soft fabric that wasn’t quite cotton, and not quite silk. The sheets were clean, but recently slept in.

source

“I’m so sorry, honey!” she yelled over her hair dryer. “I took some cough syrup for this head cold, and it worked so well I slept over the alarm.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, but not loud enough for her to hear. They were on their way to a church picnic, where they had offered to help with the set up. She had been so far gone that simply calling or knocking had not woken her. He had opened her door with the key she secreted in a gap in her doorframe. She told him about it in case of emergency, and just then, it had been an emergency. He was worried.

He ran into her apartment, expecting the worst, but found her buried under her duvet, snoring softly, and damp with a post-fever flush.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go. You need rest,” he said, a bit louder.

“Nonsense. I’ll bundle up. But maybe I shouldn’t set up, though. It involves touching things.” The blow dryer cut off. He heard her brushing through her long hair. He sniffed. He could smell her perfume, a mix of cherry almond lotion and flowers drifting in with the steam.

“Don’t worry about it. I already called Heddy. They’ll just expect us with everyone else.” The truth was she was irritated. His sister thought she was just making an excuse not to be there, but he knew better. She was sick enough to take off from school, and she never did that.

She hummed softly, coughed, and started humming again. It was rough but soothing. With the perfumed shower heat coming in from the bath, he was tempted to lay back and close his eyes. He had not been able to sleep much the night before with excitement.

He smiled as he pulled back the rumpled duvet. His fingers chased her heat in the sheets, but it had long faded.

All night, he couldn’t sleep for imagining. He had made his last payment yesterday on a modest ring - a  slim gold band and a square diamond, small but flawless. She deserved so much more, but it was all he could afford. He put his hand on her pillow.

Here she lays her head every night he thought, feeling silly as blood rose to his cheeks. I wonder what she dreams- as his hands moved underneath it, he felt something hard and cold. He gasped and pulled his hand away, looking to the bathroom where she was getting ready.

What was that?

Hard and cold. Metal. His fingers barely brushed against it, but it was smooth. Slick.

“I’m almost done, darling! Just putting on a little makeup on so I don’t look dead,” she said.

He didn’t respond, but his thoughts were buzzing. He knew she was American. And she lived alone. Could it be? Would she be so bold? His heart pounded. Would she have a weapon underneath her pillow like a James Bond character? His beautiful, sweet Eva, a secret badass-

He picked up the pillow and threw it over his shoulder, eyes wide.

“What the-“ she said as it hit her face. What are you doing?” she said as she ran to him, where he stared at what was really under her pillow. It was a curved wand, steel and glossy, with two rounded ends.

“That’s not a knife,” he said softly. The color drained from her face. She darted forward to pick it up, but he actually took it from her, his eyes widening at its weight. He ran his fingers along the curved steel, and cupped the larger ball in his palm, warming it. “Is it a bludgeon?” he said.

She couldn’t speak. The remains of the post-fever ache seemed to leave her limbs, and she was tense. The way he touched it, grasping the thicker end tight in his beautiful hands-

“Jesus,” she said.

His brow furrowed at her language.

“Sorry,” she said, and tried to take it from him again, sitting down beside him on the bed. She had used it recently, and it mortified her to see him handling it so nonchalantly. He held it up and made as if to hit someone with it.

“This’ll leave a fair dent in a skull, that’s for sure,” he said. She had used it the night before, when she was still feverish and achy, to help her forget. And boy had she forgotten. At least three times, and the last time so hard she needed to change the sheets after, regardless of the two folded towels underneath her ass.

And, despite her guilt and the knowledge she would be seeing him in a few short hours, she had thought of him. Watching her. Wanting her. The innocence in his eyes melting to desire, then hunger. That sweet mouth watering to taste her.

“That’s not what it’s for,” she said, finally finding the courage to wrest it from him. She shoved it underneath the duvet and tried to pull him to standing.

“Come on. We’re already late,” she said.

He sucked his teeth and remained sitting. “Why you flushed? You getting a fever again?” he said, and put his palm on her forehead. She was warm, but not hot. She tugged at his other arm. He leaned back.

“Is it a bludgeon? Do American women do that - have weapons to knock burglars over the head with until they marry and have a big brawny man to do it for them?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“I can just imagine it - you, materializing from the darkness with that thing held high -“

“It’s not a weapon, Chris,” she said. “It’s not for hurting anyone.”

He pooched out his lips. “Then what else could it be for? it’s metal, with a nice heavy round end for a proper heed pounding.”

She sat back down beside him and sighed. “It’s a … toy.”

“A toy? Like a cast iron soldier or something? Pretty minimalist,” he said, but even as he said it, her meaning began to register. He took in a sharp breath. “A toy. A toy. Under your pillow. Of course. For you … for your … so you can-”

She put her hand over his mouth, but nodded. He pulled her hand from his mouth, stared at it, then kissed it.

“I feel like a fool,” he said. His cheeks reddened to reflect it.

“I’m so sorry. It’s just … you never come in my bedroom and I forgot. I usually put them underneath my pillow after I’m done and I just fell asleep this time.”

“Them?” he said. He didn’t mean to say it out loud. “Them” denoted more than one. She had toys. That she used for her … the thought made his pressure go up, and even in his head, he couldn’t quite form the word because he feared he wouldn’t be able to resist feeling it when he said it. She put them underneath her pillow after. After when? After - he bit his lip and let the word form in his consciousness like coalescing smoke - after PLEASURE.

He sighed shakily, letting it wash over him. She used toys. Of course she did. She was lovely and warm[hot] and because of what he believed, he couldn’t-

“I can hear the wheels in your head clicking away,” she said, gently turning his head to face her. “Say something.”

He shook his head.

“Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, what’s the word? Expose you to it. I promise it wasn’t on purpose,” she said. She reached under the duvet and pulled it out, but he tugged on her wrist.

“How do you even use such a thing for, um … for …”

“For pleasure?” she said, as she pulled a box from under her bed. Again, his eyes widened. It was not a small box. When she opened it, there were other things in there, and some of them quite obviously for pleasure. He looked away, flushing, but as she was putting the top back on, he dared to looked again.

“That’s that?” he said, pointing to another glossy steel object shaped like an acorn, but with a ring at the top.

“Uhhh …” she said, stuffing the top back on and shoving the box underneath the bed.

“It’s a, I don’t know- I’m so sorry, honey. It’s nothing,” she said, popping back up. “We’re gonna be late for the picnic. We should go.”

He remained sitting, giving her a pensive look. Of course she needed to vent. He clearly felt the restraint in her kisses. He tasted the precise moment when her mouth went sweeter. He knew she was salivating, aching for release. How he knew was a mystery. Maybe it was instinct, but what he did not guess is that she would need the same release he did, sometimes, after they spent time together. The thought of her lying in bed, sweating and breathing deep, just like him, with her body thrumming with his kisses just as he did with hers…

He squeezed her wrist, feeling the bones underneath. “Eva,” he said softly, in a tone he ahd never used before. It was gentle. Filled with longing. Private. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she said, taking his face in her hands.

“For …making you feel the need to use, uh, those things because I can’t do it,” he said. She tingled at the heat of his cheeks.

She sat close beside him, and looked down at their joined hands. He had such beautiful hands, long-fingered and graceful, but surprisingly strong.

“I love you,” she said.

“And I love you,” he said, kissing her knuckles. He nuzzled her soft skin, then kissed again. She sighed. How is it that even that simple gesture was enough to warm her blood?

“I want to be good for you,” she said, touching his hair. “Respectful. Reserved.”

“And you have been,” he said, pressing her hand to his chest.

“Just, sometimes, it’s not so easy,” she finished.

His eyebrow rose.

“Not in a bad way, I guess,” she said. “Maybe I’m spoiled. It’s been a while since I had to wait like this.”

“I’ve waited for you all my life,” he said, in a casual tone that made it seem like a slick line. But he meant every word. She ran her thumb along his cheekbone, and pressed a kiss there. Despite his blushing cheeks, her lips were hotter. He put an arm around her waist.

“I wanted you to think me pure,” she said, tracing his eyebrow. He took off his glasses. She loved it when he did that, because then she could see the true, ungoggled warm brown of his eyes.

“You are more than your chastity,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. It was still warm from the blowdryer.

“Easy for you to say. But your minister? Hmmm.” 

“I don’t care what that old coot thinks,” he said. She chuckled and leaned in closer. He bit his lip.

“More importantly, if masturbation -“ he whispered the word, his breath sweet on her face - “if masturbation was a terrible sin, I might end up in the bad place,” he said. She looked at him for several seconds, her face serious. “What? Do you think I just sing the hymns of Edward Hopper and read tracts after I see you?”

She shook her head no. It’s strange. She thought his resolve unbreakable. Heat began to rise from below her belly button. But he was a man, hot-blooded and hungry as all the rest. But unlike them, he had the respect and self-control to restrain himself around her.

But still. He … did it too. It made her feel funny. Loose-limbed. Slightly euphoric. Why did she always feel that way when he admitted he wanted her? It felt like a gift. And now the thought of him not singing hymns and reading tracts made her wriggle with want. He felt it, and squeezed her.

“You wriggle like a puppy when you’re horny, did you know that?” he whispered. She blushed.

“Naw,” she said, pushing him away. No other man ever told her that. He smiled and looked down at her knees, which jiggled nervously.

“Go on, then,” she said, stopping. “That’s just nerves.”

“Oh?” he said. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, slow and deep. Her whole bum wiggled on the bed. He giggled, a high joyful sound. “Told you.”

“You’re gonna get sick,” she said. Had she done it before? Now she wouldn’t be able to unknow she did it. Great. He put his hand on her knee to still it.

“Don’t care. And I think it’s adorable. I could get quite used to it,” he said, nuzzling her nose. His lips hovered near hers, making her mouth water.

“When?” she said.

He squeezed her and kissed the tip of her nose. Soon, he thought, palming the ring box bulge in his pocket.