#he was bald for two of them before I finally drew his hair in today LMAO

[hermits-in-space]

Woe goodtimes be upon ye

[vasiktomis]

Pomegranate, Chapter 18: Quiet Earth, Part II.

John Seed x Female Deputy

Rating: Explicit.

Read it on Ao3 here! Notes: Co-angels @honeysides, @shallow-gravy, and @lilwritingraven all provided immense support while I toiled over this chapter, which I am forever immensely thankful for. Never would've been able to give people second-hand embarrassment like this without y'all enabling me. As always, thank you for reading!

WARNINGS: Canon-typical violence. Sexually-explicit content. An angry cult leader with performance anxiety. You know the drill.

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The comparative tranquillity of Seed Ranch had a way of making Cora feel like time was moving slower than it should have. In all seriousness, the chain-reaction of their escape from Fall's End was still firing, but without the gunshots and the shouting, approaching the property felt more like being in stasis. It was too still. Too unassuming.

The Project members awaiting John on the steps of the property were vigilant about a thorough, yet strangely distant reception of the man, as if they’d been hard-wired to anticipate his moods; warmly welcoming him home, but giving the man such a wide berth that one might have assumed he was carrying a live grenade.

Cora supposed he was at least consistent in his inconsistency; just as volatile toward his allies as he was his enemies. She wondered if the serenity of the ranch was a natural element of John's sect; whether they simply cared enough about the man to know his boundaries to the inch - or whether such a light-hearted environment was manufactured deliberately and specifically around his temper.

The Deputy’s presence did well to break the façade, however. It brought with it a range of cautious exchanges from the followers that ushered them into the home; some in fear of re-living the bedlam of her bunker escape, and others casting stern looks between her bare midriff and their leader’s refusal to leave her side.

She noticed it, too - how he stuck to her like Velcro.

It was only after she was administered pain medication and had her wound dressed (they’d been gracious enough to re-dress the haphazard bandaging on her hand, too) that John abruptly took his leave, excusing himself to apparently more pressing matters. Cora was simply confined to the foyer, drifting in and out of snoozing consciousness on one of the couches in front of the fireplace.

All in all, the mental and physical exhaustion of conceding defeat to the Project proved in all honestly a little boring. The blonde had expected she might break down once she was left alone. It seemed about the right time for it, and yet, all she felt was tired. Was it the cult who had done this to her? Run her so ragged that only anger remained?

Ideas of escape waxed and waned with cultists moving in and out of the space periodically to check in on her, lessening in their hostility with each passing visit until their warnings not to cross them turned into beratements over her refusal to sit still, for the love of Joseph.

In her restlessness, she sorted through thoughts and memories, deciding on the conclusion that while yes, today had been devastating, she’d long since thrown away her capacity to recognise it. It had been so long since she’d spared herself any emotion beyond rage that everything else felt only vaguely different. She might’ve broken down, had she not forgotten how to do such a thing. Trying only gave her a stomach ache, and so she resigned herself to waiting it out, growing more and more impatient with how undramatic this aftermath had turned out to be. How her captor had left her so unceremoniously after being declared victor.

Maybe he was similarly nonchalant about all this.

...No. That was impossible. He'd probably just excused himself to go dance a celebratory little jig. Perhaps he'd stepped through a hornet's nest in doing so, or been ambushed by coyotes. Something beyond mere choice that warranted the excuse to disappear like that.

The skylights in the ceiling changed hues over the course of what felt like hours, however, and John did not return.

It felt weird, being in his home without him present. It felt weird being fussed over by house staff who muttered for her to stop picking at her bandages while she lay across his furniture, warmed by his fire. It felt weird that her exposure to Sharky and Jess had finally led her to identify that the strange smell she’d always detected in the Baptist’s home was unmistakably raw cannabis.

Eventually, the clatter of plates and bubbling conversation drew the Deputy away from the couch and around to the other end of the foyer. The gigantic table she’d only ever seen stacked high with bibles in the past now carried an assortment of food, picked at by passing cultists like a barbeque line while they chattered away.

Watching them almost felt like watching her family back in Brooklyn. Waiting out the messy crossed streams of conversation in hiding until the coast was clear and the kids could swarm the reward of food without the labour of having to hang out with the adults. It was strange, how they mimicked a family, when the only similarity Cora could gauge between them were the logos printed on their clothes.

The spying didn't last. One pair of eyes flickering to her quickly became ten, and Cora's heart rate skyrocketed. Instinct kicked in. Eyes combing over each Peggie around the table for weapons. Hands reaching for her own absent holster and emptied pockets.

The group did not respond in-kind. Apparently, they were too preoccupied with loading up their plates to deal with a leader of the Peggie-killing movement in their space.

Cora didn’t buy it. Not straight away. Not until her gaze darted around the rest of the room, weighing up which of the Baptist’s gaudy home decorations might be most effective at bone-crushing and-

“Look who’s got her colour back.”

…

What?

The same cultist who spoke up - a woman - one of the group who’d been at the church earlier, gestured at the table. “Hungry?”

What?

One Peggie with a particularly heavy beard slid a plate over the table toward Cora. Two younger girls over his shoulder giggled to each other.

“Do you think we should offer her a shirt?”

“I’m not that brave. Leave it to John.”

“Anything fresh is all from the garden.” The bearded Peggie spoke, pulling Cora’s scowl away from them with a smile.

She inspected the table. Undersized apples and strawberries. Home-grown, by their imperfections. Multi-coloured silver beet and slightly burned sweetcorn. Homemade bread piled an end of its own, surrounded by a selection of preserves in blank jars. All of it, against her will, served as a reminder that she’d only ingested coffee today. This was bizarre, but she was hungry. Not to mention the Resistance diet consisted mostly of canned spaghetti.

Gingerly, the Deputy picked at one of everything, and while the group of cultists continued chatting, she stood awkwardly by on the side-line, trying to figure out the most efficient means of eating corn while still maintaining a hostile air about her and lot letting slip that it was fucking delicious.

Apparently tearing into the thing wasn't adequately frightening. The same talkative man split from the party to approach her, ignoring the roll of her eyes. A spot of shine glided over his bald head while he moved around the table, and as he neared, he gave her a moment to squint at him.

There was something familiar about that overbearing air.

“We’ve... -”

“Met.” He confirmed. “Briefly.”

“When?”

“Months ago now. I, uh, almost baptised you.”

Cora chewed the inside of her cheek, considering that. Somewhere in the back of her mind the memory of wet rocks beneath her feet swelled with the lapping of shallow waters. Just tap my arm if you need to come up for air.

He shrugged at her silence. “You were pretty Blissed-”

“No, I remember you.” The Deputy mumbled, turning her attention back to her food, intent on keeping it there. It didn’t last long. A hand stretched out before her, and with a laboured, full-mouthed sigh, she shook it.

“Andrew. Glad to see you again.” He offered.

“Okay.”

The silence was as painful as she’d hoped to make it, but tragically, he was resilient.

"Andy works, too-"

"Andrew's syllabically identical and perfectly sufficient. Where's your boss?"

“Upstairs, working.”

“And he’s asked not to be disturbed.” One woman interjected. “So don’t get any ideas.”

Cora blinked at that. Then, plate still in-hand, she spun on her heel and made for the staircase.

Behind her, the group exchanged a collective look of panic.

"Ma'am?"

"Sister?"

"Hey!"

“We’re not allowed up there!”

“Perfect." Cora grumbled back, already ascending the steps. "Then you don’t have to worry about following me.”

The second storey of Seed ranch was dead still in comparison to downstairs. A hallway presented a quiet stretch of closed doors and branching hallways that led out to balconies, part way between residential space and tactical efficiency.

Back in the day, she’d assumed the Baptist just had a thing for doors. Looking around at the space now, it was clear that John was well-aware of how many enemies he’d generated thanks to his work.

The crackle of a radio up ahead drew the Deputy’s attention, and as she drew closer, a hushed curse.

“Pick up. Come on, pick up.” John murmured. Then, in a brand new tone: “Joseph. Brother. I need you to call me back. Please, it’s been - just...whenever you can. I’ll be here.”

She found him beyond a cracked doorway, hunched over a desk. His fingers smoothed through damp hair hair, tugging, jaw clenched and brow furrowed.

The door creaked as Cora pressed against it, and in the time it took for her to cringe at the noise, John had sat up straight, shifting out of whatever private mood she’d spied him in. He blinked up at her, inhaling deeply, reeking of uncertainty.

She felt it too. Of all the scenarios to catch him alone in, the blonde hadn’t expected that she’d be brandishing sourdough.

A moment passed. Both of them trying to feel out this new territory.

“Hey.” Cora eventually muttered.

John exhaled. “Hi.”

“Brought food.”

He looked away. “Deputy, pleased as I am that you’re making yourself at home, I asked for privacy.”

“Since when did you value privacy?” Cora asked, pushing into the room and seating herself on the desk. The tired irritation on John’s face when she set the plate in front of him was worth the day of boredom already. He glanced up at her, and she responded with a wolfish smile.

“You have corn in your teeth.” He mumbled, relenting, posture slackening. “And you’re getting blood flakes on my desk.”

The Deputy tried not to look so hurried about picking. “Isn’t that a garnish in Japan?”

“That’s fish. You’re thinking bonito.”

“I know what I’m thinking.”

Another pause.

“Is that what you thought you were filleting in the church? Bonito?”

Annoyed silence.

“It was Nick.”

Finally, John scoffed, glaring at her, offering a reluctant nod when she flashed her teeth to confirm she’d gotten rid of the food in her teeth. “You are so funny.”

“Thank you. Eat something.”

Cora watched the man regard the plate in front of him.

“How generous of you to take a bite out of everything first." His gaze landed on the shredded corn cob. "Except for that. That,  you demolished."

"Yeah, well." Cora plucked up the same piece of bread he'd been reaching for. "Why're you hiding up here? Thought maybe you would've starting laying on the torment by now. Not...brooding."

"Brooding."

"Yes."

"Pardon me for needing to adjust to having a murderer in my home."

Cora hummed at that, casting a look around the room. "Took you about 2 seconds to adjust to a murderer's tongue in your mouth-"

"Deputy." John spat, pushing the plate away from him in a final display of denial. "Please, leave. I'm busy."

“No, you’re not.” Cora bit back. “I want to know what your plan is. Now you’ve got me, what’s next? What’s the point in me sitting around on your couch all afternoon? You don’t leave me alone, ever, and now that I’m here you want me to make myself scarce?”

The Baptist's jaw rolled in annoyance, and when Cora shifted her legs to face him easier, he jerked away from her, avoiding contact. “You’ve grown too accustomed to being in the spotlight." He grumbled.

“Stop avoiding the question.”

“What question?”

“What’s your deal? What's the plan? What happens now?”

“The plan is to get back to work. My apologies if your assumption was that you were the main goal of this valley, but there are dozens of things that require my attention-“

“Like sitting by the phone for your brother for hours?”

John paused at that. Something old and familiar flashed over his expression, and he stood from his seat. “You’re jealous.” He accused.

Cora’s lip curled, ears running hot. “You’re wasting time, and I want to know why.”

“Is that why you're nosing through my business? If I gave you details - what I'm working on - what the next step is - is that a strategic win for you?" His palms slid against the desk, planted on either side of her legs. "Or is my lack of undivided attention so awful to you that anything to help rationalise it would do?"

Something in her celebrated that look on his face. The renewed confidence in his attitude. It enraged her, but it was scores better than his absence.

She scowled, but she didn’t pull away when John leaned down into her space. It didn’t work the way it used to. Now it didn’t feel close enough. Now she wanted to part her legs and pull his hips against her.

It was a discomfort she’d never known before, and now, even with her wounds dulled, it almost felt painful. She wanted to know what the plan was. She wanted to plan an escape. She wanted to have just this one little victory if this was the end of the line. If he was going to convert her, then she could at least undermine him by ruining his faithfulness. It might destabilise him enough that she could find some advantage to getting back to Fall’s End. That would make it okay, if it were all driven by strategy or revenge. Her curiosity would be sated.

But then, as if he could hear her thoughts from the sheer volume of their demands, John drew away from her.

“You should shower.” He muttered quickly, snatching the radio from the desk. “Across the hall, on the right.”

He didn’t look at her as he left the room. He didn’t look back when he disappeared down the hall and made for the stairs.

Cora glared ahead at the space he'd left emptied.

What a fucking coward.

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Despite her soured mood, Cora had done as she was ordered. She spent all of two minutes rinsing the old blood from her skin, and another ten reflecting in quiet judgement over the bottle of 3-in-1 sitting in the shower caddy with her. Maybe she should've allowed herself the opportunity to warrant having to bathe here earlier. Maybe she'd have developed more of a sense of disgust for the man if she had.

The clothes she’d arrived in were still stained, but it was an improvement. Less of a sensory distraction while she sorted through her thoughts, at least.

While the Deputy dried off and re-dressed, the haze of pain relief began to lighten, and she was able to focus on cobbling together some kind of a plan to get herself out of Seed Ranch. She might have conceded defeat, but the hideous tattoo marking her sternum didn't mean she was suddenly going to behave. Especially if her captor was refusing to even the playing field and let her know what the hell they were supposed to do now.

Whatever John was keeping from her, it was urgent enough that his entire demeanour had changed. What did he need from Joseph so desperately? If it had anything to do with the Resistance, or if had anything to do with Joseph coming here, the Deputy intended to put a stop to it.

If John Seed’s intention was to avoid her, he should’ve thought twice before locking her in his home. Ensuring that he’d keep his distance, however, was the easy part.

The real goal would be getting him away from that radio.

Descending the stairs, Cora found John in solitary silence in the foyer. There was no sign of the Peggies serving up supper anymore, and the dining table had been cleared.

John was alone, sitting on the couch by the fireplace with his head in his hands, no less agitated than when she’d first found him. The hand-held sat close by on his left. In front of him on the coffee table was a landline phone that hadn’t been there previously.

He didn’t notice her at first. To his credit, she didn’t announce herself until a creak of the stairs did it for her. Then, the snap of his gaze toward her was instant. Hyper-vigilant.

Cora reached the first floor. “Where’d everyone go?”

“Minding the perimeter.” John answered, making space for her to take a seat but keeping himself faced away. “You’ll be pleased to know that your troop is still yet to be captured. Little doubt they’re aware that you’ve been brought here. Even less that they’re on the hunt for you, given the state Fall’s End was in when we left. Boshaw seemed happy enough to blow up half the town to get to you. Shorty."

There was no mistaking his bitterness at the nickname.

When she approached, Cora found a folded Project sweater sitting where she intended to. John’s jaw rolled when she slowed to glare at the thing.

Still, he refused to look at her.

“Put it on. You’ll freeze.”

“I’d rather not look like one of you when the Resistance comes to rescue me.”

“You are one of us, now. Almost. Once you’ve pledged yourself to the Project, they needn’t consider it a rescue effort any longer.”

Cora huffed in response, pulling the sweater over her head and slumping into the couch. “You sound a lot less happy about that than I’d expect.”

“I’m fine.”

Stonewalling. Now she was beginning to understand how annoying it was when she did it.

“I’ve made enough of a career out of it to know what you look like when you’re not fine.” The Deputy remarked.

“I think I preferred it when I was asking all the questions.”

“I think you preferred me when I was tied up in a basement.”

That comment caught a glance. Amusement, unnoticed on her part.

“So, what - you’ve been sitting beside a radio all day and somehow weren’t inclined to terrorise me? Or were you just that busy arranging flowers for my Atonement?”

“Are you feeling stood up?” John asked. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were projecting, Deputy.”

Her ears flushed hot. Immediate rage flooded pitted in her stomach, but as much as the blonde would have liked to get up and stomp elsewhere, she had little other option without any better ideas.

Right now, this was all she had.

Channelling her inner Adelaide.

Cora inhaled, swallowing back a cursory retort. “Both work.”

In her periphery, John ceased all movement, staring straight ahead.

All she had to do was pressure him enough to move away. Then it was over. She’d been rejected by him before - anticipating it happening again shouldn’t have needed to feel as gross as it did.

“Maybe I think you got scared, not having me under your control.” She went on, finding the words already prepared on her tongue as she turned toward him. “You seemed like you were enjoying it when it was you-”

“-and then you punched me in the face.” John cut in stiffly.

“Didn’t deter you.”

“We shouldn’t be talking about this.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s against the rules.” The clip in his tone signalled a warning. Then, an impatient sigh escaped his nostrils. “And you said it yourself: it was a mistake.”

He wasn’t going to look at her. There was no pulling at his attention while he could hide her in his periphery.

“Is that why you’re upset?” She made a quiet move to touch her fingers to his forearm, but he pulled away with a scoff.

“If you’re trying to buy time -”

“Are you frustrated?” Cora pressed on. His shifting had given her enough leeway to get herself between him and the phone, and she took her opportunity, sliding down to kneel between the couch and the coffee table. Directly in front of him. “Knowing what people say about you?”

John finally inclined his head to sneer down at her, but if he had anything he was intending to say, it was silence by the bob of his Adam's apple. A gulp. His breathing was the only audible sound in the room, barring herself; shallow and staggered.

Almost there.

Cora kept her eyes on his. She wouldn’t lie - despite sitting at his feet like this, she could still gauge the power that she held. That while, yes, there was a spark of disappointment that came with watching him ignore her advances, there was also some odd thrill in watching the man who’d made multiple attempts on her life struggle so much. Knowing that, even with her unarmed and kneeling - even with all his connections and soldiers, and everything he'd done to her - he was powerless.

He’d taken her freedom, but she could get that back. She’d compromised his loyalty to dogma. Nearly made the tallied notches on his arm into a lie. He'd have to start again from the ground-up. He'd be middle-aged before he found the same progress.

“Now that I’m atoned. Now that no one’s watching.” She sat up, drawing closer to his thigh, inwardly cursing at his refusal to move away this time. “All that work you put into catching me, and now what? Nothing?”

“Deputy.” John growled, low and dangerous.

“You want this.” Cora concluded, watching the flush of red bloom from beneath his collar and the flex of his jaw while he grit his teeth.

“There are bigger things at stake right now-”

“And even now that you have me, you’re too scared to do anything about it.”

John inhaled a swift breath, averting his gaze. “That’s beside the point.”

“You want this."

“Would you quit it? You’re wrong.”

Finally, the Baptist shoved himself out of the couch, back-stepping several paces until he was half-way across the room. Once he’d gotten himself to a safe distance, he regarded the Deputy once more, gaze cold and angry while she cycled through unknown victory and equally unknown disappointment.

He wasn’t going to be made to give in.

“You haven’t been atoned. Not yet.” John breathed, turning on his heel and marching into the kitchen.

Cora stared at the doorway he'd escaped through. Now was her chance.

One...two...three...

Okay. He wasn't coming back in a hurry. She'd successfully scared him off.

There was no time to waste.

While the faucet ran in the next room, Cora twisted around, snatching the phone upside down and hastily unclipping the cable from the device. The dial-tone cut to silence. Communication blocked, but cord hooked up to the damn thing was already conspicuous without  evidence of tampering. She couldn't just discard the cable.

There was no way John wouldn’t notice its absence when he returned, and so the Deputy did what any effective home invader would do.

She bit down on the cord, close as she could to the adapter, chewing hard until grinding wire snapped between her teeth. When she plugged the cable back in and set the phone straight again, the machine remained dead, but intact.

Good. That'd buy some time.

The radio was next. Rather than switch the device off, Cora tuned it a few notches, finding a dead station and placing it back right where John had left it.

Done.

Sabotage successful. If Joseph had any intention of making a call-back soon, he’d be going unheard. There was no telling how long it would last, but unless the Baptist was stocked on landlines, half of his communications were disabled entirely.

Cora exhaled, inviting in the momentary relief. Being kept here was one thing. Having to be in the same room as Joseph Seed was another dimension entirely.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” She called, rising to a stand and following the Baptist’s trail.

No response.

When Cora entered the kitchen, John was dabbing his neck with wet hands. The moment he sensed her, he grumbled a sharp curse, bracing his hands against the counter to keep from facing her.

“Is this the plan? We just sit and wait?”

His shoulders seized. “...Yes.”

Cora stalked past him, finding a counter of her own to lean against, finding her own patience dwindling. Coiling irritation at the very notion of Joseph having so much sway over the Baptist that he could seemingly halt time.

“So what’s the point in taking me? In bringing me here?” She spat.

“Disregarding our personal rapport, it’s no small matter, having you here.” John ground out. “My family will want to know-”

“Have you tried calling Jacob?”

Something twitched in John's expression. A button, pushed. Dispelled rage.

“The Father  will-”

There was no holding back the snarl that brewed in her throat. Hitting its boiling point. He did  have that much sway over the man. They were sitting here in stasis, all because of him.

“Are you that fucking sad? We’re stuck here just because you need to hear Joseph tell you how well you did? A whole fucking resistance effort just blew up half of Fall’s End. You caught  me. Dozens of people are dying, and all you can do is sit by the phone?” Cora demanded, scowling while his muscles trembled. “Are you serious?!”

“WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE ME DO, CORA?!”  John bellowed, head snapping around to fix her in place, eyes blazing. The sheer volume of him froze her to the spot. "Did you assume that you were somehow different from anyone else the Project takes in? That your place here; that you're even alive  had anything other to do than Joseph requesting it? Did you think that you'd somehow slipped through every possible crack in the system for any reason beyond this path being carved specifically by the Father? Because, frankly speaking, YOU HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!"

The Deputy didn't reply. She couldn't.

Not that it would've mattered.

John, it seemed, was far from finished.

“You're so selfish. One moment you insist on making your own salvation impossible. The next, you assume you can simply start calling shots." He bit, voice already hoarse from yelling, but with no less poison. "You think I enjoy waiting around for whatever order comes next? That I enjoy you waltzing around my home, eating my food, whining that I'm not doing enough  for you? After all the wrath you’ve wrought - after all the death and the destruction - you’re still so fucking entitled to assume that I’d throw aside my loyalty to the Father. All just because you’re here, and not even by fucking choice.”

Cora swallowed, calming the nerves that egged her on to snap back at him. "I didn't - I don't - "

After a moment, the hostility thinned. John's shoulders sagged.

"I know it's not optimal. It might not seem like it, but we're lucky. Things could be a lot worse for both of us, but on Joseph's order, they're not. It's his wisdom that made you being here even possible. So yes; the plan right now is that we sit and wait."

John turned toward her, then. He looked positively miserable.

“What happened last night…can’t happen again.” He explained. “It doesn’t matter that you’re here now. I’m the Baptist. Joseph is my brother. There’s nothing he doesn’t know, and there’s nothing he won’t find out. We need to do everything we can to stay on his good side.”

He did have a point. As much as she wanted John to be the last of her enemies, he was only one of three, and likely the lowest ranked of the Project's leaders. Pushing John to defy a higher power was unwise.

Her job was done, anyway. There was no more need to pursue him. Curiosity didn't matter. Want didn't matter. No meant no.

“Okay.” The Deputy croaked finally, nodding.

John raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” She attempted a smile. "Water under the bridge."

He returned the expression. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Great.”

“Cool.”

They both stood still, watching each other for a long moment.

Then Cora’s heart sank, and she felt herself detach from the counter. John did the same, marching toward her while she advanced on him with equal urgency.

Her fingers found the front of his shirt just as his found her face, and his mouth was on hers in a heartbeat. For all her rationalisations, the blonde reciprocated immediately, clutching him closer, humming into his kiss with a pitch she’d normally find mortifying.

“I’m sorry.” John breathed, hardly breaking away long enough to put the words together before he was kissing her again. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean that."

Cora nodded, barely able to formulate a response against him. Every word she reached for melted on her tongue, completely enraptured by the heat of his mouth and his desperate hands not knowing whether they wanted to grip at her hips or keep cradling her jaw.

She didn’t even know she’d been walked backward until she felt the cold countertop hit the small of her back, and then - much more pleasantly - the warmth of John’s body pressing against her front. She gasped, winding a hand into his damp hair and slipping beneath his shirt with the other, pawing at whatever skin she could access and drawing another one of those pitiful sounds she’d pulled from him last night.

“Wasn’t - ah, fuck,” the Deputy choked, not anticipating the Baptist’s impatience when he dipped his head to kiss her neck, arms coiling tight around her waist, “Wasn’t a mistake.”

"Fuck no." John moaned against her throat, tongue barely darting out to taste her skin. “Won’t hit me this time?”

“Not this time.”

He pulled back then, leaving a half inch of aching dead space between them. Swallowing back a pant and looking at her directly. Like he was weighing up every possible pro and con about this scenario. Cora stilled, trading hesitation with the man, sobering for all but a few fearful seconds.

“If you don’t-”

“Don’t.” John breathed. “Just let me commit this to memory.”

“I mean it.”

“Deputy, you have no idea - how many times I’ve -...how much damage this could do."

Cora shifted under his gaze, searching impatiently to find which direction his resolve would fall. "I can keep a secret."

Amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth, breaking through apprehension.

“You want this.” She murmured.

“God, yes.”

He kissed her deeply, holding her steady through the shiver sent through her as his tongue slid across her bottom lip. Then, as soon as it felt like they were picking back up where they’d left off, he pulled back again. The grin he flashed at her frustration pulled a little noise of protest out of the blonde, and when she chased his mouth, he held her still.

“For the sake of being on the same page,” He began, “you do, too, right?.”

What a ridiculous assertion. What kind of answer was he hoping to gain from that? He already had her consent; did he really need the pride of knowing how badly she wanted this too? It wasn’t even something she’d actively considered, anyway. She’d have to think about-

“Yeah.” Cora breathed, ragged. “Yes.”

John settled into a more comfortable smile, and while the eye contact wasn’t something she could uphold for long, Cora mirrored the expression.

Then, a sigh rolled out of the Baptist. “Thank fucking Christ.”

She didn’t have time to chuckle at that.

His mouth was back on her in a instant.

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“What’d I tell you?” Jess hissed, looking Sharky up and down while she waded toward him through torn up asphalt and cement debris. “What’d I tell you about making a fucking idiot of yourself?”

Sharky traded a look with Hurk at that. The man was nearly unrecognizable from all the dust clinging to him.

“I thought we did pretty good.” The arsonist defended.

“The town’s half blown-up, dipshit.”

“We did real  good.” Hurk weighed in.

He wasn’t wrong. They didn’t even kill nobody they weren’t supposed to. There’d been bumps in the road, sure, but all in all, things hadn’t been a total disaster. Once you translated that into the kind of situation they were in, total disaster  was actually kind of...well, awesome. Especially once the Cougars had arrived.

Sharky hadn’t heard word from over East since they’d left, but things must’ve been mighty fucking boring up there at the County Jail for a whole fucking convoy to come charging through town.

He’d never seen so many baseball jerseys in one place, let alone jerseys toting assault rifles.

There wasn’t any chasing leftover Peggies out of town once they’d shown up. It was a purge so quick and so direct that the blonde understood a little better why Shorty had been so pissed about not getting the extra help earlier.

Everyone had found their way back to each other pretty quick once the chaos had died down. As luck would have it, Kim had been walking Boomer when Eden’s Gate had arrived. She’d managed to get a couple of the general store clerks to safety and found a cattle shed to wait out the fight about a mile up the road.

It might’ve been the adrenaline getting him going, but Sharky could’ve sworn her tits were even bigger than yesterday.

Grace and Mary May reunited quick, but disappointingly did not  start making out. Instead, they helped Kim cart Nick and Pastor Jerome off to Dr. Lindsey.

After they’d rounded up any remaining hostages, the team made their way back to Sharky as the stand-in replacement for the Deputy. That part didn’t surprise him. He was  best mate, after all...after the dog, at least. The part that did surprise him was that the Cougars seemed to do that same.

Tracey surveyed the wreckage on her way toward the group with Sheriff Whitehorse and that tight-lipped Marshal in-tow.

“Jerome says Stammos got carted out with John’s people.” The woman announced. “They took the road down to the airport.”

“Then unless they’re plannin’ on looping back around, they’re probably headed to the ranch.” Adelaide replied.

“Probably a smart move after last time.” Hurk added.

The Sheriff inclined his head, incredulous. “Last time?”

“Long story.”

Sharky watched the disappointment pass over Whitehorse’s face. Must’ve felt shitty; losing all of his employees to the cult.

“I tried chasin’ ‘em down, Sheriff.” He said.

“And given how you’re dressed, Boshaw, it’s no surprise they were so quick to leave.”

“Okay. Ouch.”

“So what’s the plan?” Jess asked.

Tracey was already turning back around, headed for the truck she’d arrived in. “We keep liberating.” She answered. “Stammos called us to take back the valley, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

“John’s ranch is almost the Southernmost point before the border.” Whitehorse elaborated. “If we do everything right, he won’t have many friends left to help him cross it once he gets word of us coming.”

“Sounds like the same plan as last time.” Adelaide commented.

“No stone unturned.” He affirmed. “Same as last time. Take care of John the same way we took care of Faith and bring our girls home.”

The Marshal, however, didn’t look as happy about that option. Dude always hated taking the long way around. “And what if John’s taken care of your Deputy before we get there?”

Sharky exchanged a look with the others.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

John’s fingers tangled in Cora's hair, hurriedly tugging out the damp tie and wincing when a caught snag caused the Deputy to hiss. “Sorry. Sorry.” He muttered, breathless.

“You’re - you’re certain this is okay.” She huffed against him. If there was any acknowledgement of the apology on her part, it was only in how she clawed at his vest, dragging his mouth back to hers.

“Not at all.”

“What about your -” A gasp briefly did the trick of silencing her, but then: “What about your brothers-”

“Please don’t mention my brothers right now.” John whined.

Cora eyed him. “Door’s locked?”

John stifled a chuckle at that. “No, why would it be?”

Cora eyed him dangerously.

“I’m kidding." He defended. "What, you think I let people walk in and out of here unannounced?"

“Fucking prick.”

“Obviously, I’m kidding. You’re a-aaah…” His retort dwindled when the blonde’s hands slid down his front, stopping short of the hem of his vest and creeping back up to his collar again. He pulled back to glare. “A captive.”

“And you’re sensitive.” She replied, simply.

“7 years is a long time.” John’s own hands fell from her hair, slipping down her sides until she couldn’t feel them anymore. “Not sure how much I can...handle.” That last phrase came cautiously. Awkwardly.

The blonde’s fingers traced back down while she listened, more quizzical than apprehensive at the warning.

To her, that sounded more like a challenge.

"What."  John grunted at the smirk that played on her lips.

"Just the audacity of you asking for mercy."

A shiver worked its way out of him when she went lower, ghosting over his hips and then back up again. Deliberately avoiding the ever-insistent graze of an erection against her stomach, sporadically tensing against denim confinement whenever her hands got close. Every reminder of it sending a fresh wave of heat through her.

“Seriously-”

“Mr. Seed, either we carry on like this, or you fuck me. Right now.” The Deputy spoke low, watching the Baptist’s pupils dilate more with each word. “Either way, we’ll find out how much you can handle, but 3 years is also a long time. I’d hate for only one of us to break a streak.”

John stared, dumbfounded.

Then, his hands reappeared, tugging around her waist, wrenching her up and onto the countertop. Her wasted no time pushing her knees apart, drawing near enough between her legs that she could reach for his belt, but not close enough that she could find the friction she was looking for. His fingers pawed her thighs, then gripped hard when her fingertips ghosted over the bulge that impatiently jutted between them.

“Ah. Shit.” He shuddered, folding down to balance his forehead in the crook of her neck, holding onto her like she was the only thing keeping him standing. Cora found that she liked the idea of that. Ten times the amount of experience she had, and yet here he was, barely functional.

She pressed her palm against him, content with the hitch in his breath and the little jerk of his hips. A responding, dulled twitch pressed back. Through the obstruction of clothing, it was impossible to get a sense of him, but biology didn’t discriminate. She wanted him in her.

“Doing good.” Cora murmured against John’s temple, running her fingers through his hair in reassurance while his dug into her thighs in a vice grip.

“So good.” He choked when she slowly began to move back and forth. “So - so good. Feels - ah, fuck - let me -“

Maybe a little too quickly, Cora pulled herself closer to the edge of the counter, tugging John’s unbandaged hand further up her thigh and hoping he’d get the message while she busied herself with his belt.

She knew his smirk too well to mistake it for anything else when she felt him hum against her throat.

John straightened, pulling Cora’s attention back up to him. Lo and behold, he was looking as arrogant as ever; as if he hadn’t just been whining at her mercy. “Deputy, have a little patience.”

“After all that ranting about giving, you sure are selfish.”

“Oh, so you were listening.” He grinned, tracing a thumb back and forth over the junction of her hip. “Tell me, what happened to my little ranger who loved to play by the rules?”

“Hypocrite.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Hurry up.”

John flinched when Cora’s hand shoved beneath his still-fastened pants, palming him through his underwear. He managed to hold strong, though, even if his voice near-cracked. “Or what?”

“Or John Seed’s gonna come in his pants.”

Again, he twitched in her grasp, but his movement remained torturously slow.

Realisation hit the Deputy at his resistance.

He was getting a kick out of this.

He was testing her.

“How crazy does it drive you, not having total, complete control?" He asked. His thumb reached the seam of her pants, almost too light to feel. She still throbbed all the same.

"You're an asshole." Cora growled.

“You know, I always suspected you got off on that.”

“Evidence suggests it might be the other way around.”

“Answer me, Deputy.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’ll do just that if you don’t cooperate.” John tutted at her frustrated ineptitude at deciphering his belt buckle. “Are you really in a position to be calling the shots?”

Cora stopped to consider that, locking to his gaze with a scowl. Why did every interaction with him have to feel like a chess game?

Fine.

Not breaking eye contact, Cora simply pulled her sweater over her head in response.

John’s gaze broke immediately. He tried to recover, but the damage was done. There was no picking his composure back up after the attitude slid from his face and left him with nothing but prying eyes and a slackened jaw.

“Well,” He croaked, “when you put it that way…”

“Help me with this.” Cora urged, still tugging at his belt. He acquiesced immediately, although with the two of them hastily fumbling with the same mechanism, the extra help wasn’t much better. John swore under his breath, pulling out of Cora’s reach while she clicked her tongue. “Does that thing double as a chastity belt?”

“It’s not my fault we have a single functional hand between us.”

“You stabbed me first.”

“For God’s sake - fuck - got it.”  John sighed, finally unbuckling the monstrosity, rushing back to the blonde’s reach. She dealt with her own belt while he hurried with his jeans, tattooed fingers shaking. The moment he’d succeeded, his hands flew to her waist, revering bare skin and savouring her impatience for him to touch her where she wanted to be touched.

She would have cussed him out, had his teeth not grazed her lip, refreshing the taste of him with his tongue slipping into her mouth - right as his left hand wriggled it way into her pants and pressed.

Cora saw white for a second. Untouched nerves awakening in a frenzy that had her gasping into that bastard’s mouth. Jesus, she could feel  the grin on his face.

“Hm. Hypocrite.” Came the reminder, followed by a strangled noise when her fingers enclosed around his cock; separated still by underwear, but gripping him all the same. His body shoved against her, crushing their arms between them in the attempt to find his way closer - to find more. “Ah - shit. Careful-”

A knock from beyond the kitchen sent a collective jolt through both of them, and John’s head whipped around in a panic.

“W-...what is it?!” He called, voice cracking.

“John, have you got a minute?” A deeper voice Cora didn’t recognise responded from outside.

“Doubt I’ve got more than ten seconds.” The Baptist hissed to himself. “I recall saying emergencies only! Ask yourself - is this something I need to find John for, or can I find my own way?”

Christ. He spoke to his followers the same way she spoke to hers.

“O-okay. Sorry.”

John didn’t reply. He simply turned his attention straight back to Cora, stroking up and down along the material of her underwear. His cock twitched impatiently in her hand, at odds with his leisurely pace. “You’re soaked through.” He taunted, but the tremor in his voice delivered it as a revelation.

Cora’s brow furrowed. She stroked once, sweeping her thumb over the head of him. “Speak for yourself, Baptist.”

A grunt sounded from the man. His hands moved quickly, yanking her to the edge of the counter and gripping at her pants. Tugging the material down and off her legs while he dropped to his knees on the floorboards. The Deputy’s initial instinct to draw herself together and hide from scrutiny was jarred by the way the Baptist gaped between her legs. Like closing them would be some cruel disservice to him. So, she let him stare. Held still while he drew close, dotting a kiss to her knee and shivering when his beard skimmed her inner thigh.

“Thank you for wearing white.” John murmured, stroking a careful thumb over the cotton, leaving only aching want in his wake.

“That a religious thing?” She tried not to croak, raising an eyebrow.

“Not in this circumstance. Just...thought about it.”

“Oh. You just - casually speculated on the colour of my underwear.”

“Something like that.” He continued the action. Back and forth. Up and down. Trying to find the same spot as earlier. For all his enthusiasm, however, he was still out of practice and just as impatient as she was. He’d draw close, but any hitch in her breath pulled his gaze up to her face, searching for praise and losing his place in the process.

When his mouth suddenly descended upon her, though, fingers giving up their place to yank the material to the side and grant him direct access, the Deputy found herself uncomfortably on the complete other end of the spectrum. From not enough, to way, way too much. A squeak shot out of Cora, and her legs clamped shut on John’s skull just as her fingers gripped his hair in an attempt to pry him away from her. Both actions earned a separate “Ow,” from the man.

John pouted up at her. “What?”

“Stand up.” “I like where I am right now.” He protested. “You’re not shy,  are you? I want  to-”

Cora tugged at him anyway. “I don’t want you to practice on me. I want you to fuck me.”

John blinked. “Okay - not shy.” He pulled himself back to a stand, averting his gaze while she guided his hips back between her legs. “I’m - er - it’s just…-”

He bit back a resigned curse when her fingers circled his erection once again, passing over the noticeable slick of precum on strained cotton.

“Just what?”

“I'd like you to - enjoy it." The admission came. "And I’m not going to last.”

“Good. I'll enjoy that just fine.” Cora replied, earning a questioning look. “Won’t look so smug anymore when you’re coming in record time.”

John's expression darkened at the challenge, but his hands shook as they swatted her away, struggling to manoeuvre the fly of his underwear into just  the right position.

Anger was still the quickest way to get through to him.

“Just you wait." He warned. "I’ll-“

She cut him off with a kiss, pulling his hips against her, and his threats evaporated. They were pressed too close for her to see, but his cock grazed the hem of her underwear, finally pulled free. Then, John’s fingers hooked around the material, pulling it to one side.

The Baptist held her gaze, brow upturned like he was worried.

Was he nervous?

“Ready?” He asked.

He looked...kind of pretty like this. Pupils blown. Lips a little swollen. Hair all messed up. Eye-contact wasn't so uncomfortable when he looked this wrecked.

She nodded. "Yeah." The pitch of his gasp matched hers when the head of him slid with dangerous ease along the wetness of her cunt. All she could focus on was the heat of him. The blunt press, drawing closer and closer to her entrance until he was finally lined up. The ache of resisting muscles and relieved nerve-endings when he pushed forward, torturously slow, concentration and bliss fighting for equal real estate on his face, and okay,  he was exceptionally pretty like this.

A tiny little 'fuck'  crept out of John when Cora sighed at the feeling, insistently encouraging, tugging. She needed more. It wasn't fair. Didn't fucking matter how long for; she just needed to feel him. All of him.

Then, when he was barely two inches in, another knock at the door pulled her out of her stupor.

“John? I spoke to Andy. He says it’s an emergency.”

John froze. Then, his eyes scrunched shut in a long-suffering grimace, and once again, his forehead dropped to Cora’s shoulder. Frustration radiated from him, infecting her within moments.

"Has he been out there the whole time?" She grunted.

"Christ." The Baptist sounded almost amused at that. He pulled back to offer a half-smile.

He had to investigate.

Cora, meanwhile, had no patience for his imminent departure. Her legs locked against his hips, but he was gently prying himself away already, muttering repeated, gasped apologies at her protests.

“I’ll be right there!” He called back, already resetting his belt. “Give me a minute.”

“Are you kidding?” Cora hissed, sliding down from the counter.

“I’ll be 30 seconds. I swear. Then we can - we can go upstairs, and we can stay  there. Emergency or not.” John assured her, punctuating his words with kisses wherever he could land them while she struggled to multitask between receiving and yanking her pants back on. Then, he pulled away completely, stumbling out of the kitchen on visibly shaky legs.

Cora took a moment to silently lament before heading back out into the foyer, buckling her belt while she surveyed the space in an attempt to distract herself from impotent fucking rage.

John murmured away with someone outside, half-visible through the gap he’d left in the door. His arms had crossed, but with his back to her, she couldn’t discern his mood any further.

Nonetheless, her concern grew, and when the man said his goodbyes with a nod and entered the building once more, the Deputy found it had good reason to.

John passed through the room, not sparing her a glance. He snatched the radio he’d abandoned on the coffee table, but to her fleeting relief, simply clipped it onto his belt and moved on.

He’d turned pale.

“Hey.” Cora frowned, following him to the trophy cabinet where he began rifling through memorabilia. “What’s going on?”

“We have to leave.” He muttered, unboxing a small case. It rattled as he shook the content into his hand. 38 Specials, most making it to his back pocket, some clinking to the floor, forgotten when he moved on to withdraw his revolver and tucked it into the back of his pants. “Now.”

John continued hurrying about with Cora hot on his heels, unable to really do anything but watch him build a collection of valuables on the dining table. His coat. His keys. A particularly raggedy old bible. He made some effort to conceal the zip-lock bag he pulled from behind the décor on the mantle; definitely the source of the odour that permeated the foyer.

They traded a look - critical on Cora’s part, and John rolled his jaw while he shoved it out of sight, irritated. Perhaps embarrassed.

“Did you know?” He huffed.

“Mr. Seed, I studied in Colorado. I know what a half-bag looks like.”

“Did you know about the Cougars?” John’s voice hardened. “According to the Chosen, there’s one hell of a convoy inbound from the North. Did you know?”

Oh.

Fuck.

“Oh. Fuck.” Cora noted, still too dazed to even bother lying. “I called them in.”

They actually came?

“Wonderful.” John had stopped to run a hand through his hair. “Truly. Thank you.”

“Well sure, but I don’t see what good they’re gonna do you. They’re probably here to-”

“Sarcasm, Cora.”

“That makes more sense."

John started to pace, then, relenting. Dispersing his temper. He tugged the radio from his belt, holding it to his chin. “Joseph, for God’s sake, come in.”

Half a minute passed by. The little curses under John’s breath became more punctuated until his patience thinned. He angled the dial, and then stopped. Examining the station he’d been using, incredulous.

His gaze flickered to her for a split-second, eyes narrowing, and Cora’s stomach coiled.

Shit.

He knew.

She winced while the Baptist strode past her, anticipating his approach to the phone, investigating an absent dial tone and her now-obvious tampering. He turned the machine over, holding up the ruined cord for her to see.

"Your handiwork, Deputy?" The smile that spread over his face was sharp as ever. The mask was back on.

Perhaps this hadn't been her best plan.

She should've let him go down on her when she had the chance.

[applejuizz]

laughter of youth.

the scout regiment has managed to rescue eren and recover annie’s crystal from their enemies, yet at the cost of many soldiers’ lives. levi learns a valuable lesson of trust. characters: levi ackerman x gn! reader (platonic!), historia reiss, sasha braus, jean kirstein, mikasa ackerman, eren jaeger, connie springer warnings: canon violence (vague descriptions), mentions of blood/wounds word count: 1.764 inspired by attack on titan 2: final battle and the story of “our man”, the customizable in-game character.

Paperwork after paperwork after all the paperwork...

Levi had come to dread the sound of hasty footsteps pacing up to his wooden office door and its prolonged creak as Miss Four Eyes allowed themselves in carrying yet another pile of experiment reports, barely containing their unreasonable excitement. While they fervently sought the tiniest free space to fit the monstrosity held in their arms, their flow of Titan anatomy ramblings never ceased.

Levi, you won’t believe what Eren managed to do today...!

Victor - who the hell is Victor? - stood awake the whole night and was as energetic as ever in the morning! This new breed of Titans is quite interesting!

I keep naming these Titans and I won’t shut up already and I should slap myself before you kick me across the fields, Levi! - he couldn’t possibly describe the joy these words would bring him coming out of Hange’s mouth. Too good to be true, unfortunately.

He shifted into his chair, straightening his back and shaking off the annoyance that had been constantly pulling on his nerves for three days already.

Thankfully, his office was quiet and the hallway was blissfully empty. Hange had taken a day off from experiments to let Eren rest. On that note, Jean and Eren had stopped arguing for once, Sasha had ceased her relentless search of meat and he could finally relish in the silence surrounding him. It wasn’t often that he got to have such quiet moments to himself.

And because they were so rare, only when he got the chance to savor them did he realize how much he actually hated them.

It wasn’t that he disliked being alone - on the contrary, he loved solitude a little too much for his own good. Instead, he found that whenever he allowed his mind to rest, he was assaulted by intrusive thoughts and memories that he’d rather bury deep in the back of his consciousness. Perks of being a soldier.

His eyes took in rows and columns of observations on the papers in front of him. His hand signed each and every one of them away promptly, yet his mind was drifting, conjuring up crimson fields, disgusting Titan flesh sliced in half, the blood-curdling screams of soldiers trampled off their horses or chewed to their demise. Nothing he wasn’t used to. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t make his skin crawl sometimes.

He thought back to commander Erwin, weak and thinning, laying in a hospital bed with only an arm left. Levi knew his superior was a strong man; he didn’t worry much about his recovery. What did plant the seed of doubt in his heart was the fact that somehow, the man he’d thought nearly invincible had been so badly wounded, and that alone was a strong indicator of the deep shit they all were in.

And of course, the one member in his squad that had never returned from the battlefield hung dark and heavy over his consciousness, a shadow of guilt, the same damn story repeating itself over and over again. No matter how much he tried to avoid it, it came crawling back like an awful nightmare, looming over him along with the deaths of all the other people he has trusted and cared for. Isabel and Farlan, Petra, Eld, Günther, Oruo… and now them too.

I won’t die on you, sir!

Like hell you won’t.

Their promise rang in his ears as if trying to mock him. The shadows of his consciousness sneered at him: look what happens when you decide to trust people, you twerp. Should’ve known better. Haven’t you learned your lesson?

“Tsk.” He set the cup he’d mindlessly lifted back on his desk. The tea had gone cold. He’d have to ask someone to brew him another. Not exactly pleasant, but enough to distract him from the dark path his thoughts had gone onto.

Before he could even stand up from his chair, though, loud voices boomed from downstairs through the whole hideout and caused the floor beneath his feet to vibrate. They were followed by clattering of pots and Jaeger’s unmistakable yelling, obnoxious and over dramatic as always.

So much for his quiet moment.

With an exasperated sigh, Levi picked up his cup again and left his desk and the piles of papers behind, shaking off the last of his melancholy. These damn brats can’t get anything done without wrecking havoc first…

The kitchen was right beneath his office, so all he had to do was climb down the short flight of stairs, put the cadets back in their place, ask horseface to brew him some more tea and go back upstairs. Simple enough.

He came to the sight of Eren, Jean, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha and Connie all hunched around in a compact group, chattering loudly and all over each other. Historia’s dulcet tone surprisingly prevailed amongst deeper voices, although she was nowhere to be seen.

“Wait! You need bandages before anything else! The gash in your side isn’t looking good…”

“Yeah! You’ve literally been through hell and back!” Jean marvelled.

“No, guys! They need food!” Sasha exclaimed as if she'd made a grand discovery, grabbing a half-boiled potato straight out of the pot.

“Sasha, no! The potatoes aren’t done yet-”

“Oi, what the hell is going on here?!”

“C-Captain Levi!” Jaeger stumbled back on his feet, broom in his hands, his headscarf sitting askew on his head. The huddle immediately dispersed, everyone had gone dead silent. Levi scanned the room quickly, not paying much attention to the soldiers’ faces and rolled his eyes.

“I thought I told you to clean up the kitchen, not turn it into a pigsty!” He passed a critical hand over the table, gathering up the dust in his palm and making a grimace. Cleaning supplies, pots and cups were scattered all over the floor and the table, as if the cadets had all come to a mutual agreement of dropping everything at once just to see how many white hairs Levi would gain in his hair.

“B-but-”

“Get back to work and stop yelping, you’re turning my brain into mush.”

But before he could open his mouth to bark another order at Jean, his eyes finally landed on who was once the centre of the huddle: Historia Reiss holding on to a hunched figure’s arm, obviously attempting to provide support, but ending up resembling more of a lost puppy clinging to someone’s sleeve.

“Captain Levi!” the petite girl exclaimed, a hint of relief present in her voice, “I-I went to get water from the fountain and I found them there! They seem stable, but I think they might need a doctor-”

His thoughts were running at light’s speed, yet he couldn’t get his body to wake up from its frozen state at the bottom of the stairs. What must’ve only been seconds felt like hours. As if time had decided to finally slow down, to finally stop the nonsensical blurry of days, months, years passing by only to give him a chance to breathe. A chance to understand. Was it just too good to be true?

“Captain…?” Springer trailed off, eyes bulging out of his little bald head, and quickly recoiled as Jean subtly elbowed him in the stomach. Only then did Levi notice that he had been standing among the shattered porcelain of what used to be his teacup, his hand still hanging in the air as if clinging to the ghost of the object.

The cadet finally raised their eyes from the floor, face bloodied and battered, yet still brightened by youth and devotion.

“Captain Levi… sir.” They saluted in a weak voice, raising two fingers to their temple.

Their last name rolled off Levi’s lips in a stronger tone than he thought he’d manage, yet still trailed off a bit in disbelief. Clearing his throat, he stepped over the broken porcelain.

“So. You came back, huh?” Out of all the words piled up on the tip of his tongue, begging to spill out, the best he could come up with was a rhetorical question. But the soldier still let out a dry chuckle, straightening their back as much as their wounds allowed them to. Their legs wobbled and the Ackerman girl, who had been quietly watching from the sidelines, immediately jumped in to offer extra support. Seeing the usually stone-faced Mikasa’s facial expression filled with a flurry of emotions similar to those churning in his heart allowed him to relax a bit.

“Of course.” The wounded cadet answered. “I made a promise, didn’t I?”

Levi gave a slight nod, features stoic, yet he felt his heart grow with pride in his chest. The same glint of determination glowed in their eyes as it did back then, during their rookie days, when they had placed their fist over their heart and had sworn to stay alive. He had heard the same promise come out of so many of his dead comrades’ mouths that realistically, he shouldn’t have expected this particular soldier to honor it. Yet for some reason, unknown even to himself, he had chosen to place his fragile trust in them. Maybe it had been their thirst for revenge, or their sheer willpower which, dare he say, could surpass Eren’s; whatever it had been, he did not regret it.

He drew closer, steps light as feathers on the wooden floor and took advantage of their hunched position to card his fingers through their hair, ruffling it affectionately. These damn kids keep getting taller… he thought bitterly to himself. The gesture managed to transform their wince of pain into a look of total and innocent wonder. The look in the eyes of a kid who's just got the utmost gesture of validation from a parent.

“You’re a good kid,” he conceded, patting their scalp twice before letting his hand fall back to his side. He could barely recognize the gentle tone of his own voice. “Although were you not wounded, I’d have roundhouse kicked your ass for scaring everyone like this.”

The phrase hadn’t even been that funny, in his opinion, but they let out a joyous, loud laugh, contagious to the people around them. It even pulled a chuckle out of Mikasa.

And as he stood there in the kitchen, surrounded by the laughter of youth, he finally understood. Placing his trust in these kids, fighting alongside them, protecting them with the price of his life were worth all the risks because they were humanity’s last hope. And he would do anything to one day see their joyful faces wiped clean of crimson wounds and dirt and death. Anything.

[shotofire]

bonjour,how are you ? well a oneshot for levi with a kind and shy cadet s/o, who respect everybody but when she gets mad, she'll answer with sarcasm cuz she's dumbass without being afraid or caring about the punishment(even if it's keith or another chef, no body have the right to treat her like a shit) merçi beaucoup ^^✨

Hi friend :p i’m great and I hope you are as well ! Thank you for the request <3

LEVI ACKERMAN x F!READER

Warnings: cursing, age gap (legal of course)

Season: not specified

-

Becoming apart of the Survey Corps was everything but glamorous. Not that anyone would think that, but things definitely were on the ugly side most of the time. To be a scout required discipline and a huge amount of focus. To lay down your life without a second thought would be hard for just about anyone. For some reason, you found it rather easy.

Not a single person believed when you’d say it wasn’t that complicated. Of course knowing you’re going to die isn’t the most exciting thing to come to terms with, but every scout needs to. When your mind is set like that you only excel from there, and that’s exactly what you did. Many of your peers found you admirable, and only wished they could think they way you do.

Levi Ackerman especially found interest in you. At first to find a girl younger than him was controversial, only to him, and he worried that others would accuse you of trying to climb up in the ranks. Soon everyone knew Levi was not the reason you excelled. Sure he’d help you train and push you to your limits, but your natural inner strength is what has kept you alive.

The two of you never classified your relationship, but it was obvious it was closer than an ordinary friendship. There has been several occasions where a group of cadets have spotted you sneaking out of his office. One time Erwin saw you go in without even knocking, that’s the day he knew Levi Ackerman was definitely whipped.

Many couldn’t imagine how you two even came together. Levi was quiet, and only really spoke when giving orders. Then there was you, the quietest girl that had ever entered the Survey Corps. Nobody was being dramatic when they said to hear you speak was rare. You tried to keep to yourself, getting close to others was a weakness. Then Levi entered your life and screwed up that little plan, and now you were perfectly smitten with the captain.

The relationship, or whatever you’d call it, was kept at a minimum to the eyes of others. The furthest it had gone to give others a clue were the office visits, and the way you’d smile at him in the halls or during training.

Before the two of you became a thing you’d given him a few sarcastic remarks. Initially he saw you as someone who needed remediation, but that soon changed. The man saw so much of himself in you it was ridiculous, and he soon started to understand you. On the occasions you’d been a urchin he realized that you were simply sticking up for yourself.

It shocked many to hear the quiet girl stand up for herself, especially to someone as scary as Levi. Unlike everyone else, you didn’t find him intimidating. In all honestly, you didn’t find any of the commanders, chiefs, or captains worth cowering over. You’d experienced titans break down the wall to your home village and devour people in your late teenage years. A couple of humans were the least of your fears, especially men.

Those sarcastic remarks and dramatic eye rolls is what drew the captain in. Not to mention your strength was something they hadn’t seen in years. Some would go as far to say you were worth a hundred soldiers. The raven-haired man made it his mission to get closer with you. This feeling had never been within Levi, that’s how he knew you were special.

He knew you so well after years of watching you become stronger and more skilled. You may be young but you were better than half the soldiers who’d been fighting for a decade longer.

Levi was worried about today, it had been on his mind for weeks. It was time for commander Keith to do his annual checkup. Levi found it rather pointless but it had to be done. The sunkened eyed man always came when he brought a new batch of soldiers. Levi had managed to steer you clear of him year after year, but it still worried him. Keith was a loud and rude man most of the time, and that was your biggest pet peeves. To come face to face with a walking version of the things you hated wouldn’t end well. He knew if the man pushed your buttons in the wrong place you’d have plenty to say.

He spent majority of the day convincing you to train with him away from everyone else. It was his usual solution for this day, to have you separated. As the years went by you started to pick up on it, it’s not like you were dumb. Around the same time every year Levi did this and it started to become obvious and you knew something was happening.

Right now you were trying to take the wooden knife from his hand and pin him down, which was something you hadn’t done since the earlier years. It had been round after round of outsmarting him and throwing him to the ground that you finally spoke your mind, “Levi what’s going on? Everyone is gathered out front and we’re here, I want to get the experience that the others are.” He could see the frustration running through you, and the annoyed on your face expression was prominent.

You didn’t like when Levi took you to do things one on one when everyone else was together. There was a fear of judgment, what if they thought you were getting special treatment? This is what that was to you. Levi was much more skilled than anyone else out there and you were getting to do combat with him, which is unfair in your eyes. “I just wanted to have some alone time with you, is that okay?” The man may have a face that mainly consists of one expression, but you knew he was lying.

He knew you saw right through him once you scoffed. “I’m going to join everyone else, feel free to come with.” There was no stopping you now, even if he tried it’d be more obvious that something was going on. Your eyes scanned the groups of your fellow cadets, and a few you didn’t recognize. Did we get a new group today? You asked yourself.

Before you can really process what’s going on, a bald man with weird eyes is making his way towards you. You recognized his face from past expeditions, but didn’t care enough to remember his name. “Late to meet new fellow cadets?” He asked baffled, a bit dramatic in your opinion. Getting new cadets was nothing special or new, so who cares if you were late? Half of them would be titan food in the next month.

He was quick to talk before letting you answer, but you weren’t sure if you were even going to say anything. For a second you considered just walking away. Someone coming up to you and raising there voice for no reason was enough to irritate anyone. “You’ve been here for years but have never bothered to show up to one of these, maybe you should learn some respect cadet.”

Levi watched from afar with wide eyes. Of course Keith was already talking to you, the man had it out for you. He’s complain that you kept to yourself too much and it was suspicious, and hated that you never showed up to these. Half of that was obviously Levi’s fault. Keith wasn’t aware of that and also wasn’t aware of your relationship with the captain.

Keith’s eyes become staggered when you let out a light snicker, cheeks upturning into a smile. “What the hell is funny?” He asks with his arms crossed, still trying to be intimidating. “The fact that you think i’d ever be afraid of someone like you.” Your words made his mouth fall, no one had ever said something like that to him. He’s pretty much convinced himself at this point that everyone feared him in some way. Then there was you, showing him he was completely wrong.

“You should have some respect!” The man says, stepping closer to you. “So coming up to me without introducing yourself and yelling in my face earns you respect? I don’t know where the fuck you came from, but we say hello first here.” He was down right astonished by you. The smirk on your face made his blood boil, you had zero alarm of him. Before he could come back at you, which he was struggling to think of something, Levi’s hands were on your waist. “Oh well okay, i’m gonna take her away from you now.”

Levi nervously laughs as he pulls you away from Keith. You didn’t want to be around him any longer so Levi taking you away was perfectly fine with you. “What’s that guys deal?” You asked with your lips pushed up and you eyebrows knitted. “As you can tell, he’s not a fan of you.” Well duh, you could tell. You look over Levi’s shoulder to see the man was still looking at you with his same crossed arms. “What a freak,” you mumbled and Levi huffed.

“That freak is pretty important to the scouts, he could have you removed if he really wanted to.” That statement didn’t scare you one bit. Everyone would raise hell if you got taken away, Levi even knew it. “He said I never show up to these, do you know why?” Your brow is quirked and your hand is on you hip, fingers tapping against it. It had become evident that Levi had kept you away from the man, but that seemed to have made things worse over the years.

“I’m sorry,” he said while scratching the back of his head. He knew you had already figured it out by the way you were looking at him. You laughed a bit at his mannerism, the guy really had you isolated from someone like Keith. “It’s fine, you just need to understand I can handle myself.” You smile and Levi ruffles your hair. “I’m well aware you can handle yourself. I experienced the (y/n) attitude when you first got here, don’t think I forgot.” You chuckle thinking of the hard times you used to give him.

“Oh you loved it, didn’t you? I mean look at us now.”He rolls his eyes at you and you can’t help but let out another laugh. “Yeah yeah, whatever you brat,” he says playfully, “Just avoid Keith till he leaves. I don’t feel like listening to him complain about you, I may use choice words with him myself.” You scan to make sure no ones looking, Mainly Keith, before you smack a kiss on his cheek. His cheeks heat up at the gesture, which you’d never done in public before. “You sound like an old man, I may use some choice words,” you voice deepens as you restate what he had just said.

Before he can say anything your giving him another kiss on the cheek and walking off, “I want to meet some cadets this year, unlike all the times before this.” He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and narrows his eyes at you playfully. You walk off with a smile and wave, getting ready to greet the cadets. This would probably be the only time the new comers heard you speak to them directly.

Levi’s eyes watch you, then they widen when he sees Keith headed straight for you.

Shit, not again.

[pressedinthepages]

Beneath Each Other's Bones

My fic entry for @eskelbigbang <3

Please also check out @drachedraws two amazing pieces of art that they made for this fic!

Relationship Tags: Eskel/Geralt

Character Tags: Eskel, Geralt, Lambert, Vesemir, Lil' Bleater

Other Tags: smut, established relationship, oral and anal intercourse (m/m), some very soft smut. what can i say.

Summary: Winter at Kaer Morhen can be brutal. But Eskel and Geralt find warmth in each other in an effort to stave off the cold.

The stones of Kaer Morhen sighed as the sun rose over the winter-frosted valley. The birds and harpies had long since traveled south for the cooler months, and the draconids had nestled themselves in the depths of the mountains around the aging keep. The castle itself was full of its Witchers, who were patiently waiting for the first snowfall to blanket their surroundings in layers of quiet white . With the last witcher having finally arrived a few evenings prior, the pack were all finally able to rest peacefully with the knowledge that all were safe.

The first thing that Geralt felt was cold. His nose, the tips of his ears. The rest of him was encompassed in warmth, but the chill rudely nipped him awake, undaunted by his furry woollen fortress. He squinted one eye open with a grimace, finding his bedroom washed in the cool sunlight that streamed in from the window. It was still early. The morning sun had barely breached the horizon. Lambert would still be snoozing away, cocooned in the safety of a warm and familiar bed, but Vesemir would likely already be down in the kitchen preparing for the day.

Geralt’s ears, barely poking out from under his blanket, picked up the steady thunks of wood being chopped, and he grunted as he sat up, letting the blanket pool around his waist. His chest was bare, pale, scarred skin reluctantly exposed to the early winter air as the witcher roused himself. Still sitting in his bed, he turned and scooted to the windowsill, peering at the courtyard below.

Ah, fuck. Geralt’s morning arousal became actively invested in the sight that met him. Eskel had a stack of freshly chopped logs at his side, with one propped up atop a large stone. Geralt could see his muscles strain against the thin linen of his shirt as he swung the sharp ax high over his head, its honed edge glinting with the emergence of the sun as it met its apex, only to fall again with breathtaking force. The log split in two, and Eskel gathered the halves off to the side, stacking them neatly with the others on a long piece of thick canvas with handles on either end.

The ax found a resting spot for a moment as Eskel wiped the sweat from his brow. Geralt set his chin in his hands and his elbows on the edge of the windowsill and held in a low groan. Eskel had reached for the neck of his tunic and lifted it up over his head, revealing the olive-toned flesh of his stomach and the dark curls of hair over his chest that drew a delicious line below the band of his trousers. It was clear he’d been the first to return to Kaer Morhen. A comfortable roll of belly fat protruded from the confines of his belt, proof he’d had plenty of time to rest and indulge over the past weeks. His skin shone with perspiration and his thighs flexed and pushed at the fabric when he lifted another heavy log onto the chopping stone. Hells, the haphazard seam of one of the trouser legs was coming loose as his thigh threatened to free itself.

Eskel breathed in and swung again, driving the ax all the way through the thick log in a single stroke. As the two halves hit the ground he turned, dropping the ax and facing the little patch of green that remained before the frost. Lil’ Bleater was happily bounding through the grass, pouncing off of crates and rubble like it was her sole duty in life. Eskel smiled wide as Geralt did the same from his perch. The sun glinted off of Eskel’s back, dancing over the drops of sweat that dripped into the hollows of his muscles. Geralt swallowed thickly, unable to look away when Eskel’s arms came up to sweep the hair out of his face. The muscles of his shoulders and down the line of his spine flexed and shifted beneath his olive skin as he moved his hands to his hips.

“Alright, Bleats,” Eskel laughed as she came bounding over to his feet. He leaned down and offered a few sweet pats to the top of her head, “Think we’ve given Geralt enough of a show?”

He glanced over his shoulder with a cheeky grin to where Geralt was watching from the window, jaw agape and gobsmacked. The goat bleated as Eskel turned back and waved, and Geralt truly couldn’t help the smile that crept up his face if he tried.

“Fuckin’ tease,” Geralt grumbled half-heartedly as he watched Eskel drape his tunic back over his head. He was picking up the straps to the carrier for the firewood when Geralt finally tore himself away from the window, willing himself calm.

It only took a moment of deep breathing and a lifetime’s worth of practice, but Geralt soon found himself presentable to pleasant company. He threw on his usual winter attire, soft trousers and an even softer loose-fitting tunic tucked into the waist of his pants, his lined boots, and his cloak thrown over his shoulder. He tied his hair back off his face and let the rest hang on his shoulders in long silver waves. Finally, Geralt grabbed his swords and scabbards before heading down the stairs to the small kitchen space.

As expected, Vesemir was there with a steaming mug, poring over a book that was almost certainly older than Geralt himself.. He grabbed an apple and plopped down on the bench next to Vesemir, the both of them wordlessly grunting a greeting at the other. Geralt ate in relative silence for a bit, only the latent thrumming of the older Witcher’s heart and the crackling of embers in the fire accompanying the crunch of apple between his teeth.

That is, until Eskel butted open the doors to the hall and dragged his firewood haul in with him. Lil’ Bleater was riding the pile of wood like a pirate would her ship, the stack being almost as high as Eskel’s shoulders. Speaking of Eskel’s shoulders, Geralt couldn’t tear his eyes away from the visible line of sweat that trailed its way down his back, darkening the linen of his shirt and making it stick in all the most tempting places. He felt his mouth water at the sight and the piece of apple still in his mouth felt thick and hard as he choked it down.

Eskel grunted as he got close enough to the fireplace to relinquish his load, letting the heavy pieces fall haphazardly as he dropped the canvas sheet. The apple slipped from Geralt’s hand and bounced on the table before falling to the floor. “Dammit,” he growled, pointedly ignoring the disappointed sigh that escaped Vesemir’s nostrils.

He picked the fruit up and dusted it off, slicing off another piece as Eskel approached the table. Eskel smelled...like he needed a bath. Salt and sweat clung to his skin and wood dusted the strands of his hair, but he still carried that deep, musky, earthy scent that shone with a hint of citrus. It was the scent that kept Geralt awake at night, kept him sane on the Path. It was everything.

Eskel reached over and plucked a handful of dried fruits and nuts, as well as the jar of honey. He dropped the fruits and nuts into a bowl and carefully swirled a generous portion of honey over top. His fingers shone with the golden, sticky sweetness as he grabbed a dried grape and popped it between his lips. The scar turned his mouth upwards at the edge and pulled oddly at his lip while he ate. Geralt remembered how long it took for Eskel to be comfortable eating in front of him again after he got that scar, and he treasures every moment that he gets to see.

“Geralt?” Vesemir peered over his mug at him.

Geralt hummed in response, already dreading the day’s assignment.

“Oh don’t give me that. I need you to go out and put salt on the training grounds before the dirt frosts, and freshen up the wards around it. I don’t need the goats going in and licking it all up again. After that, the day’s yours.”

“And me?” Eskel asked around his mouthful.

“You can be done, you’ve already chopped enough wood to last us a good few weeks. I’ll get Lambert to-”

“NO. Don’t go giving my assignments before I even get to the table, old fart,” Lambert called down the stairwell.

Vesemir blinked slowly and sighed once more. “I’ll get Lambert to do SOMETHING ELSE today, though if you want something to keep busy, I’m sure there are some books that need rebinding.”

Geralt watched Eskel nod and swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Yeah, alright. I may take some time later and see what I can do about those books. Lay them out for me?”

“Of course.”

Eskel smiled over at Geralt, his deep amber eyes meeting Geralt’s sunrise gold. Geralt’s moon and stars rested in those eyes, a whole universe tucked away in the depths of Eskel’s soul, bared just for him. They smiled at each other before Geralt tore himself away, draping his cloak over his shoulders and striding quietly towards the door.

Eskel watched him haul the heavy bag of salt up onto his shoulder with a grunt. He shook his head with a smile and polished off the last of his breakfast. The stool scraped on the floor as he pushed away from the table, ready to go fall into a warm bed somewhere. Eskel heard the door shut from Lambert’s room as his feet pounded down the stairs, so he made haste in avoiding that breakfast discussion.

***

Why’s Geralt back outside?

Eskel rounded the corner of the staircases, following the fresh scent of Geralt trailing out to the courtyard. It was far past noon by this point, and Geralt had already taken care of the training grounds. He had come back in right as the sun reached its highest point in the sky, climbing the spiral stairs in search of a snack.

Eskel shouldered open the heavy wooden doors and turned to the east, following the light footprints over the balding grass. He smiled to himself as he heard soft whispers coming from the stables, low and not meant for anothers’ ears. Well, another human’s ears.

He stopped just short of the doors, now close enough to make out the words being murmured.

“-n’t give me that look, I was just wanting to braid your mane.” Geralt’s honeyed tenor drifted over the heartbeats and huffed breaths behind the stall. “I know Eskel doesn’t normally do it, but it’ll help keep it from matting over the winter. I bet you’d hate for our big softie to have to cut off old chunks of your mane, wouldn’t you?”

Eskel heard Scorpion huff heavily from his nose and he chuckled, pulling on the cool steel handle and closing the door behind him. The whispers stopped as Geralt peered over the short wall between the stalls, his hair shimmering golden with the light of the fire roaring in the fireplace. He held a hardy brush in his right hand and had his other resting lightly on Scorpion’s flank, and his hair was tied up high and away from his face.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Eskel rumbled, crossing to where he could see into Scorpion’s stall. He let his back hit the wall behind him and slid down, his bottom thumping audibly onto the ground.

“Just gonna sit there and watch me?” Geralt grumbled, resuming his brushing of Scorpion’s mane. The great warhorse stamped his foot impatiently, butting his head into Geralt’s chest.

Eskel quirked his brow and nodded, “Figured you wouldn’t mind after you ogled me this morning.”

The tips of Geralt’s ears flushed a pretty pink as he hummed noncommittally in his chest. Not denying it.

“Your man’s a smartass,” Geralt mumbled to Scorpion, and the horse fucking snickered, I shit you not.

“Ay,” Eskel laughed, watching a little smile threaten to pull at Geralt’s lips, “no need to turn my horse against me, I’ll need him come Spring.”

“Don’t wanna talk about Spring,” Geralt sighed, carefully running his fingers, long and delicate, so unlike Eskel’s, through the wispy strands of Scorpion’s mane.

“Me neither.” Eskel pulled up his knees and rested his elbows atop them, his eyes drifting down Geralt’s body. Gods, but he’s so gorgeous.

If you asked him, Eskel would say that he couldn’t pick a favorite part of his Geralt. Everything was his favorite, it was impossible to choose. But Eskel did have a favorite, and he very well kept it to himself, thank you very much.

That damned waist. The way that Geralt’s shoulders, broad and sharp, sloped in and down over his stomach and into a glorious handful for Eskel. Nothing about Geralt was dainty, not in the slightest, but Eskel loved that he could wrap his arm over the soft line of his waist in the dead of night, or grasp desperately onto it while lost in the throes of passion.

Eskel sat there quietly, listening to Geralt mumble to Scorpion while he busied his hands. He leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the idle sounds of the castle and nearby woods overtake his mind and senses. He could hear Lambert’s heavy footfalls from beneath the castle, down in the labs. A pack of wolves patrolled the treeline past the castle walls, jaws snapping as they called to each other under the low afternoon sun.

He heard Geralt’s footsteps grow close to him, stopping just where Eskel’s hips met the floor. Geralt’s fingers brushed gently through Eskel’s thick, dark hair and Eskel couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that spilled from his lips. Geralt chuckled and knelt at his side, running his hand down Eskel’s cheek and thumbing over the line of his brow.

“I know you went down to the springs and got clean earlier,” Geralt rumbled lowly, “but maybe you’d want to join me for a bit?”

Eskel smiled and opened his eyes, two golds meeting and melding into one. He nodded and Geralt leaned down, pressing their foreheads together. Geralt reached and grabbed onto Eskel’s hand, pulling him to stand and brushing the stray bits of straw from his backside.

Eskel chuckled as he batted Geralt’s hand away, though not before he got a solid squeeze in edgewise. “Hey, if you wanted to touch my ass, all you had to do was ask.”

Geralt shrugged as they walked through the doors to the castle and down the center spiral staircase that led to the hot springs, “I always want to touch your ass. Doesn’t really matter.”

Eskel shook his head and laughed heartily as he felt the air change. It felt thick, musty, warm with minerals and moss that grew in sharp brushstrokes up the walls. His lungs filled with the comfort of home, the air that was unique to this one spot of the castle, and only ever really meshed with his soul when Geralt was around to share in it.

He watched Geralt peel his shirt from his body, his pale skin a stark contrast to the dim caverns lit only by the stray candle or two sporadically placed in the cracks of the stones. Eskel reached out, his hand guided only by the raw urge to touch, to feel Geralt’s skin yield under his fingers, and he felt the warmth before he even made contact.

Geralt’s sigh tingled under his fingertips, vibrating through his bones with a summer long lost. Eskel stood flush to Geralt’s back, his hand resting over Geralt’s heart and his neck bent to rest his forehead at the nape of Geralt’s neck. He invaded Eskel’s every sense, every fiber of his being, just by existing in the same space. He smelled of sweat and horse and hay and happiness and home, and Eskel just wanted to...breathe him in. To take him into his lungs and never let him go. He felt Geralt’s fingers intertwine with his where they rested on Geralt’s chest, long and thin and pulling him up to Geralt’s lips. His lips were cool and chapped from the chill outside, but Eskel felt the warmth being pulled from his soul into the sweet press of Geralt’s lips.

“C’mon, let’s get into the baths,” Geralt mumbled, his lips still pressing into the pads of Eskel’s fingers. Eskel hummed noncommittally, honestly fine with just standing here, Geralt in his arms and close enough to finally feel. Geralt turned and stepped back, just out of Eskel’s reach with a grin as he reached for the ties on his trousers. “I’d like to get clean before I die of old age, so you best get naked.”

Eskel smirked and shucked his own shirt to the side, undoing the bright ties on his codpiece and letting the thick leather fall away. His trousers fell and were kicked away with his boots and the air embraced his skin with a welcoming grasp. He padded towards the pools, slipping into the water with a grateful sigh that one would expect from the sight of a long-lost friend.

He peeked over his shoulder and found Geralt standing where he was left, mouth slack-jawed and his hands hovering with his trousers half-undone. Geralt blinked and cleared his throat, adjusting himself through the leather of his trousers before untying them the rest of the way and letting them fall away. “I...it always surprises me just how much I can forget…”

Eskel crooked his head as Geralt stepped into the water beside him, rippling the waves over and up the stone sides. “What do you mean?”

“Just...you,” Geralt murmured, dipping under the water to soak his hair, “you are always so much more...real than I can ever keep in my mind. Whenever I think of you, it always pales in comparison to actually seeing you in front of me.”

Eskel felt his cheeks flush and he smiled, running his damp hands through his hair before lounging back into the edge of the pool. “I can never really get how you feel right. I know how good it makes me feel, but actually touching you? Or hearing your heart? My brain can’t replicate that. Not well enough, anyway.”

“Exactly. And it always is a bit of a shock. But a good one.” Geralt soaped up his hair quickly, batting away Eskel’s hands when he tried to help. “No, I want to get this part out of the way so we can relax. We can do that next time.”

Eskel thought back to a couple of winters prior, when Geralt had requested that he wash his hair for him. Albeit, with a bit of a caveat. Eskel spent an hour washing Geralt’s long, thick silver locks with his cock buried to the hilt in Geralt’s ass, the both of them gasping and clinging onto each other by the time his hair was rinsed. Eskel smiled at the memory as Geralt ducked back under the water, leaving his hair dripping wet and free of suds.

Geralt peered over at Eskel with a smirk playing at his lips as he reached his hand for Eskel’s thigh. He felt the muscle tense briefly under his fingers as he moved up slowly, his other hand sliding up and onto Eskel’s neck. Eskel sighed gently, a pull of air from deep in his lungs as Geralt played with the little curls of hair on the nape of his neck. Geralt’s hand moved over his hip, warm and soft and just a tad squishy beneath the water, and splayed over his stomach, tracing idle swirls through the hair that led down to his groin. Before he could get far, though, Eskel caught his errant hand with his own and brought them to his lips.

“We should eat first,” Eskel rumbled, his lips brushing the sensitive tips of Geralt’s fingers with every whispered word, “then I’d like to take you to bed properly.”

“Hmm,” Geralt traced down the scars on Eskel’s cheek and into his lip, watching the tiniest little shudder shoot over his nerves, “Lambert cooking tonight?”

Eskel nodded and ran his hands down Geralt’s spine and the swell of his backside. Not pushing or pulling with any direction, just feeling the skin that he so craved, even in his sleep. Geralt bent down, just barely pressing his forehead into Eskel’s and brushing their noses together. “You’ve kept me waiting all day,” Geralt sighed with a smile, “I suppose I could wait a bit longer. Not much though.”

Eskel chuckled and pecked Geralt on the cheek, “I promise. Once we’re both warm and comfortable and full, then I’ll take you upstairs and show you just how much I’ve needed you.”

“If you don’t let me go now, there’s no way I’ll be able to stop myself,” Geralt growled and nipped at Eskel’s chin. Eskel laughed and playfully shoved him back, watching the crystalline water drip down the dark hairs over his chest and into the dip of his waist. He had been feeling the stirrings of arousal all day, but it was getting more and more difficult to ignore.

Eskel followed Geralt as he clambered out of the springs, his hands and feet striking roughly against the weathered stone beneath them. He smirked at the quite obvious state of arousal that Geralt was in, his skin flushed and his cock straining upwards from between his thighs.

Geralt could feel Eskel’s eyes on him as he strode towards their pile of clothes and drying sheets. He peeked over his shoulder at him, finding Eskel hauling himself out of the bath with his arms, the muscles dipping and pulling as he rose to his full height, soaked to the bone and sporting a very pretty erection of his own. Geralt’s mouth watered as he wrapped a sheet to hang low on his hips before gathering his worn clothes into a bundle in his arms.

Eskel followed suit, feeling the drafty air whistle through his legs and cool the drips of water that still wore their path down to the floor below. They traveled through the halls together, still shoulder to shoulder even though the walls were just a tad too close together to accommodate them both comfortably. They didn't mind though, drawing their warmth together and letting their souls mingle in the approaching evening.

As they climbed the spiral staircase that led back to the main level of the keep, Eskel could smell the dinner that Lambert had been working on, something with chicken and hearty vegetables, along with bread and fresh butter and citrus chutney. They continued on up the stairs until they reached the door to Eskel’s chambers. They did typically end up sharing the room over the winter, but Geralt still liked to have his own little private space for himself. Eskel knew how loud the world could feel, and he liked having his own space too sometimes.

He kissed Geralt sweetly on the shoulder as he moved to continue up the stairs to his own room, leaving a tingle of his lips to keep him company. Geralt shook his head with a light hearted huff and slowly climbed up the spiral, and Eskel waited until he heard the heavy thud of his thick wooden door to open his own. He threw his clothes onto the chair by the fireplace before flicking his fingers out and up in the sign for Igni, feeling the warmth from the fire bloom from his palm and onto the wood, bathing the room in a pale glow.

Eskel dressed quickly, throwing soft trousers over his underthings, followed by a knit shirt that stretched across his chest and held tight. He left his swords propped by the door next to his boots before padding back down the stairs into the dining area. The three fires roared beneath bubbling pots and sizzling pans, sending rich scents swirling softly around the room. Lambert stood over one, giving it one last stir before grabbing onto the handles. Eskel lowered himself onto the bench at the table just as Lambert set the steaming cauldron down onto the nearly-black wood.

Vesemir grabbed the other pan and brought it over, lifting the lid to reveal several chicken breasts that had been seared and seasoned to perfection. Lambert began to ladle some of the stew from his pot onto his plate and tore a chunk of bread for himself before tossing the loaf to Eskel. It was warm in his palm and he smiled, the bread soft and yielding as he tore off some for himself as well. Vesemir declined, so he set the rest of the loaf in Geralt’s spot and began to heap his own plate with Lambert’s delicious looking dinner.

Geralt joined soon after they began to eat, dressed comfortably with his silvery hair pulled up and away from his face. Geralt swung his long legs over the bench and sat down next to Eskel, humming as he picked up the bread.

“Yeah, pretty boy, saved that bit for ya. Dig in before it all gets cold.” Lambert chucked the ladle down in Geralt’s direction, sending stray bits of stew flying to the walls. Vesemir rolled his eyes as Geralt caught it without looking and gave it a spin, rotating it flamboyantly around his fingers before plopping it straight into the great pot.

The four of them ate in relative silence, only the gentle scraping of utensils or grunts of acknowledgement breaking the fragile quiet. Vesemir was the first to be finished with his meal, leaning back in his seat and breathing in deeply. “Delicious as always, Lambert. Thank you. I'm headed to the library, gonna try and go through some of the old tomes.”

Lambert nodded and the others hummed, no one willing to part with their plates quite yet. Eskel wiped his plate down with the remainder of his bread, sopping up the stew and downing it all in one satisfying mouthful. Geralt watched with a raised brow and a smirk.

“Alright lovebirds, I’m off. Try to keep it down, at least a little, huh?” Lambert winked as he stood and wandered off, likely back down to the alchemy labs for more of his...experiments. Eskel chuckled as Geralt lobbed an old apple at the back of Lambert’s head, more for effect than anything else. Lambert batted it away into a corner and Eskel sighed. He stood and retrieved it, knowing that it would be long forgotten if he didn’t. He set it back onto the table before stretching his arms up above his head and turning to the door that led to the staircases.

Eskel held his hand out to Geralt, who looked at it through hooded lids. “Join me?”

Geralt smiled and lept to his feet, the last few bites of his dinner instantly forgotten. “Fuckin’ finally, you tease.”

Eskel laughed as the two of them bumbled up the stairs and into Eskel’s room. Geralt could feel the warmth emanating before they even swung open the door, his cheeks flushing and his arms shivering with the welcome change in temperature. Eskel shut the door behind him and led him to stand before the fireplace, his olive skin glowing in the flames.

Geralt sighed as he felt Eskel’s hands on his hips, his fingers toying with the hem of Geralt’s shirt and just glancing to the skin of his stomach beneath. Eskel slid his hands up and pulled Geralt’s shirt with him, lifting it over his head and letting it land with a soft thud in the cushy armchair in the corner.

Next Eskel moved to Geralt’s trousers, sliding the ties open and letting them fall to the floor. He gave Geralt’s bum a little pat and nodded to the bed. “Go on, I’ll be just behind you.”

Geralt reached to push down his smalls but Eskel caught his hands and dropped them back by his side. “J-just wanna hold you for a bit...that okay?”

Geralt hummed, pressing his lips to the junction between Eskel’s neck and shoulder, “Of course, Wolf. Don’t take too long though, gonna get cold without you.”

Geralt smiled as he climbed onto the wide bed draped in thick furs and soft knit blankets. Eskel loved textures, and tried to surround their bed with as much comfort as he could find. His golden gaze found Eskel once more as he too stripped down to his smallclothes. Geralt leaned back onto the soft pillows as Eskel slid up next to him, resting his head on Geralt’s chest and breathing in deeply. Geralt wrapped his arm around the breadth of Eskel’s shoulders and held him close, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against his side. Geralt could see out of the little window cut into the stone, revealing the sun setting in bright oranges and deep purples between the craggles of the Blue Mountains.

Eskel ran his hands down Geralt’s chest, tracing those same swirling patterns as before while he peppered kisses up and down the line of Geralt’s neck and over his collarbone. Geralt could always feel the little crook in Eskel’s lip from his scar as it traced over his skin, grounding him home in warm arms and soft eyes that held endless love and patience.

Geralt threaded his fingers into Eskel’s hair and gave a little scratch at the nape of his neck, chuckling a bit when he felt the full body shudder that Eskel granted him. Geralt felt the gasp of hot breath ghost over his collar when he tugged gently on the handful of hair that he had, and a possessive kind of growl erupted from behind his teeth. Geralt didn’t often let this part of himself show, this need to hang onto every thread of his partner, but with Eskel, it felt safe, known, instinctual.

Eskel pushed himself up and pressed his hand firmly in the center of Geralt’s chest, breathing with the steady thuds of the heart that rested just beneath his fingers. Eskel’s eyes were dark with lust and hunger and something so deep and innate that it escaped such a simple name. Eskel slid his hand up and wrapped it gently around the back of Geralt’s neck and leaned down, pressing their foreheads together as he climbed between Geralt’s legs.

Geralt lifted his leg and wrapped it around Eskel’s hip in an attempt to get him to maybe speed things up a bit. “Eskel,” Geralt hummed, “Gods, you’re killing me…”

Eskel smiled and ran his nose down the line of Geralt’s jaw and into the hollows of his neck. His lips traced along the tendons and veins and his teeth just barely glanced over his pulse point and Geralt felt his cock thicken and throb where Eskel pressed into him.

“Can I have you like this?” Eskel asked, his voice still muffled in Geralt’s neck, “Just wanna be able to look at you…”

Geralt swallowed thickly and nodded, turning his head in search of Eskel’s mouth. He finally, finally, slid their lips together, breathing each other in and holding onto each and every piece that they could reach. Geralt wrapped his arms around Eskel’s waist and stroked up and down the hard lines of his back, tracing the scars he knew better than his own.

“Lift-nng” Eskel tried to say, though Geralt nipped and tugged at his lower lip to keep him in place, “Lift your damn hips, you great oaf.”

Geralt chuckled and did as he was bid, letting Eskel run his fingers through the ties keeping his braies on and loosening them. They slid down his thighs and Eskel let him rest his bum back on the bed. Eskel shimmied himself backwards and fully pulled the smalls off of Geralt, sending them careening through the room to land somewhere in the shadows. Geralt’s cock lay hard and flushed and weeping on his stomach and Eskel took a deep breath in through his nose, grounding himself in the lust on the air and the taste of Geralt already on his tongue.

Eskel stood up and turned to face the fire as he undid his own smalls, pushing them down quickly and without any dramatics. But Geralt found himself drooling over him anyways, seeing the beautiful bronze skin revealed inch by glorious inch, the swells of his backside just begging for his teeth to sink into. Again. He then grabbed the little vial of oil that spent most of the year gathering dust on the mantle, but in the winter found a new home atop the little table next to their bed.

And oh fucking shit I’ve missed that so much, Geralt thought as Eskel turned back to him with his cock hanging heavily between his thighs. Eskel crawled onto the bed and prowled over top of him, his chest already heaving and pressing into Geralt’s. Eskel sat up on his knees and Geralt braced himself on his elbows, watching Eskel uncork the oil and slowly drip a generous amount of the cool liquid onto their cocks where they rested together. Eskel’s hand was warm when he reached down to rub the oil around, wrapping around them and tugging and pulling and-

“-Fuck, Eskel,” Geralt spat through grit teeth when Eskel just barely thumbed the slit of Geralt’s cockhead. “If you’re gonna do all that shit, I need you in me now.”

Eskel laughed breathily and kissed Geralt hard, all teeth and tongue and rushed whispers of affection. “Alright, alright. I’ve got you, Geralt. I’ve got you…”

Eskel poured some more oil between Geralt’s legs and Geralt felt it slowly trickle down to his entrance. Eskel’s fingers followed soon after, languidly rolling his balls around in his palm before trailing down between his cheeks. Geralt sighed as Eskel started pressing around his hole, not pushing in yet, just massaging and loosening the tight muscle.

“Gods, Geralt,” Eskel murmured, dragging his free hand down Geralt’s flank and across his stomach, “you’re so tense…”

“No one’s been back there since Spring, Esk…”

Eskel blinked up at him and Geralt could taste the new wave of arousal that poured off Eskel. “You’ve not had anyone? All year? Geralt, I...you-”

Geralt’s head hit the pillow and he sighed, trying desperately to put the words together in his head. “I-fuck, Eskel, I just want you. You’re...you’re the only one who I can...who I can be comfortable with.”

Eskel surged forward and captured Geralt’s lips between his own, tasting of salt and honey and fucking unending love. “Geralt. Fuck. You can’t just say shit like that out of nowhere. Fuck, I love you so much it hurts. It fucking hurts, and then you just go and say that? You’re gonna put me in an early grave-”

Geralt’s world twisted and turned as Eskel’s hands gripped onto his hips, his fingers digging into his skin as they rolled and shifted on the bed, winding up with Geralt laying on his stomach and Eskel’s lips pressing into the skin at the nape of his neck. Eskel dragged his mouth down, leaving hot wet kisses down Geralt’s spine and over the swell of his bottom.

Eskel’s breath ghosted over Geralt’s skin as he slid his finger back down to press against his entrance, finding only a gasp of resistance as he pushed in to his knuckle. He worked Geralt open slowly, kneading and licking and nipping the soft flesh of Geralt’s ass while he slid in another, and then one more finger. He relished the little noises that clawed their way out of Geralt’s chest unbidden, gasps and moans and keens that he felt more than heard.

Meanwhile Geralt was warring with his own mind, torn between wanting so desperately to grasp into Eskel’s hair and haul him back up to feel his lips cover his own, trailing down over his jaw and neck and chest, but also needing to feel more of him, deeper, harder-

Their words broke off between gasps for air and fisted sheets and Eskel quietly continued his task of working Geralt open on his fingers. Geralt’s breath hitched in his throat when Eskel crooked his fingers inside of him, warm and slick and hitting up against that devastating bundle of nerves. But all too soon it was not so nice, his fingers sliding in and out and not being close to enough for Geralt. “M-shit, more, Eskel.”

Eskel hummed and bit down into the tender flesh of Geralt’s bum, feeling the fluttering of his walls play at his fingers. He looked down and watched his fingers slowly slide in and out, stretching him in preparation of what was to come. Eskel had his own wars inside of his head, his need to shower Geralt with soft touches so rarely afforded to his battle-worn skin clashing against the feeling tugging behind his belly to find the breaking point nestled so deep inside of Geralt’s body.

Geralt’s hips thrusted softly against the bed beneath them, chasing the release that had been teasing at them both all damn day. Eskel chuckled when a particularly hard thrust made him bonk his nose into the crease of Geralt’s asscheeks, and he shifted himself to sit up with a sweet pat to the swells of muscle.

“Roll back over, wanna look at you-”

Geralt sighed when he felt Eskel’s fingers slip out of him, leaving him oddly empty and aching and wanting. It took him a moment to find his bearings, but he flipped over soon enough to meet Eskel’s fiery eyes. Eskel hovered over him, his chest heaving with hot breaths and his medallion clinking against Geralt’s. Geralt ran his fingers through the soft dark hair over Eskel’s chest, pressing his fingers into the yielding flesh over his heart and giving it a squeeze. Eskel growled with a sinister grin and moved faster down his body than Geralt had anticipated.

Eskel leaned down and lapped his tongue up the underside of Geralt’s cock just as he slipped his fingers back into him. Geralt shook when Eskel wrapped his lips around the tip and sunk down, teasing and licking while his fingers hit that precious bundle of nerves nestled so deep inside of him. Eskel’s mouth moved with his hand, pushing in and out and up and down and humming against him and Geralt could feel the pearly arousal dripping onto Eskel’s tongue with every slick slide of his lips.

“Ah, ah, Esk-g...gonna-fuck...”

Eskel only hummed, low and hard from his chest, and Geralt arched up off the bed in pleasure when Eskel zeroed in on that spot within him, holding there and sucking and slurping every bit of spend that Geralt had to give. It just kept coming, shooting down Eskel’s throat and spilling out the sides of his lips messily. Eskel felt the haze of his own pleasure tease at the edges of his eyes as his hips thrust lazily against the bed, his free hand holding tight to Geralt’s hip.

Geralt sagged back onto the bed in a haze, tender and sensitive and already craving more. He pulled Eskel back up to him and ran his thumb over the corner of his mouth, gathering his own spend onto his finger. Geralt slipped his thumb between his lips and licked it clean as Eskel watched with great gasping breaths and eyes so dark there was only a little ring of gold shining in the night.

“Geralt, fuck, c-can I-” Eskel stuttered over his words, his hands running over Geralt’s shoulders and down his chest, his cock dripping down into the hair above Geralt’s own half-hard cock.

“Yes,” Geralt breathed and fit his hand up onto the nape of Eskel’s neck, his fingers pressing firm while Eskel shifted on the bed to line himself at Geralt’s entrance.

Eskel gasped into Geralt’s skin as he just barely pushed into the rim, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s waist to hold him as close as possible. Geralt’s fingers tightened in Eskel’s hair as he started to gently thrust inside of him, Eskel’s chest rumbling with a low purr as he smothered Geralt with his body.

“G-Geralt,” Eskel murmured, his hips already losing rhythm, “I’m, fuck you’re so-”

Geralt hummed and nodded, running his hands down Eskel’s shoulders and back up again around his neck. “Go on, Eskel. You’ve been on edge all day. Give it to me.”

Eskel’s voice went high and strained, tight mumbles escaping from between his teeth as he ground his hips deep against Geralt’s, spending inside of him. Eskel rubbed his face into the tender skin of Geralt’s neck as he finally, gloriously released into him, feeling the way that he fluttered and flexed around his cock. He saw great stars shooting behind his eyelids as his climax tore through him, unrelenting and all-encompassing.

Geralt kept his hold firm on Eskel as he went limp in his arms, Eskel’s mind blanking and blind for a blissful moment. Geralt felt the pressure of Eskel everywhere, on top of him, around him, inside of him, leaking out of him. The only thing that could ever gather him enough strength to move was Eskel himself, and he didn’t really seem up to that quite yet.

Or, well, maybe he did. Eskel didn’t even soften a little bit in Geralt, his hips already rolling deep and slow inside Geralt. His bones sang out to Eskel in ecstasy, yearning for him, craving him.

Geralt’s cock rested hard once more on his stomach, steadily dripping his arousal into a little pool. Eskel’s hands tightened on his hips and pulled him into each and every thrust, slow and hard and deep and addicting. Eskel couldn’t keep his hands still as he dragged his cock inside of Geralt, only just barely shifting back and forth as he tried to stay buried in his tight, wet heat as much as possible.

“Ger-nnng,” Eskel gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut as he felt the pressure of Geralt around him clench and smother every last bit of him with every soft move of his cock. Geralt smirked and bore down farther, tightening his hold on Eskel’s arm and around his neck as he pulled him down so that their faces were held with only the space of a breath between them.

Geralt could feel the tight coil of release draw taut as he dragged his hands down Eskel’s chest and to his own cock. Eskel’s eyes followed him, branding his skin with the fire behind them, watching as Geralt took himself in hand. Geralt shuddered as his climax came closer and closer into view, only needing just a little more, a little something to push him over the edge-

“Fuck, Geralt, I...I can’t hang on much longer…” Eskel ground out, brushing his nose down over Geralt’s and pleading with his eyes.

“Let go, Eskel. I want it, please-”

And then he did. Eskel thrust hard and deep a handful more times as he hit his peak, his cock pressing against that devastating bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of Geralt each and every time. Oh, and then when his release finally overtook him once more? Gods, his cock flexed and spilled and hit Geralt like a punch in the gut over and over and over, until finally Geralt too climaxed with his cock in his hand. Long stripes of spend spilled and painted his chest while Geralt groaned from low in his stomach.

The two of them laid there for Gods know how long, just lingering in each other, the scent of their combined arousals making them feel almost drunk from the heady way it went straight through them. Eskel was the first to move, slipping from the tight embrace of Geralt’s body and flopping down onto the bed at his side. Geralt reached out and tangled their fingers together while their chests heaved in great gulps of air, their minds still addled and off-kilter.

Eskel swallowed thickly and focused his mind on the feeling of Geralt’s thumb running over the back of his knuckles, back and forth and back again… “Gods, Geralt,” he murmured, peering over at him, “I’ll never get tired of that.”

Geralt chuckled without opening his eyes, already feeling the threads of consciousness being steadily pulled from him. “You better not. I plan on getting fucked like that until I die.”

Eskel hummed and reached out blindly with his free hand, groping for the spare scrap of cloth that he kept by the bed. Once he found the soft fabric he gently swept it up over Geralt’s stomach and chest, feeling the vibrations of his hum beneath his fingers. Eskel reached back between Geralt’s thighs and cleaned there as well, knowing that although Geralt would never really say anything about it, he wouldn't enjoy being sticky in the morning.

Eskel tossed the rag away and shifted underneath the blanket, reaching out to pull Geralt into his chest. “C’mere, you. Wanna hold you.”

Geralt grunted and rolled over onto his side, burying his face into the hair on Eskel’s chest. Eskel wrapped his arm around Geralt’s waist and held him close, pressing his nose into the silver hair atop Geralt’s head. Woodsmoke, spice, pine. Home.

Geralt sighed into him and wrapped his own arm around Eskel, snuggling in and quickly letting sleep take him away. Eskel felt the shift, the way that Geralt’s shoulders relaxed and his hips fell further into the bed, his mind finally quiet and his hands still. He pressed his lips softly to the crown of Geralt’s head and held it there for a heartbeat or two, pouring everything he could into those soft moments before he himself fell into the warm embrace of sleep.

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Blended

I was (thankfully) given some time off during this holiday season; which I promptly used to spend time with the family and recharge at home. Also spent time watching various movies during this time and a little LoK story idea came from it.

In my usual writing preference – it’s still a Lin/Tenzin endgame story but – in sort of a modern setting AU, blended family/semi-highschool themed with ages differed a bit (Lin and Tenzin was aged down by around 5 years). Expect it to be tropey and may be a bit of a cliché. This is written on a whim so if it doesn’t make sense…ah well. Haha! May edit this piece later on…

I’m considering this to be a short story, just a little self-indulgent-written-for-fun type of thing. But if other people enjoy it too then that’s such an added bonus so I’m sharing it with you as well. 😊 Let me know what you think since this is somewhat different from my usual style, I guess.

Also – I have misgivings regarding creating OCs so I’m likely to lean on canon characters and take a lot of creative license in developing them for the story.

 ---

Title (tentative):  Blended

Legend of Korra, Lin/Tenzin, Modern AU, no bending

(Not sure if one-shot or will be multi-part yet)

 ---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School

“Thank you for making time to meet today,” The silver-haired lady clasped her hands together on her desk. “I know you must have a packed schedule, but I think it would be good to have the check-in session for your daughter today.”

“Yes, of course – anything for my daughter.” The bald and bearded man threw a look at the door’s window, where he could see his daughter swinging her legs while seated at the corridor.

“Ikki is a bright child and she’s been doing her best to catch up with the class requirements. She excels the most at individual tasks.” The teacher continued to talk a little bit more about the projects that the students have been working on.

Teacher Yue handed the father a folder marked “Ikki”. Tenzin carefully picked it up and looked into the contents, smiling as he saw Ikki’s artworks and class outputs.

“However, I see that she seems to have challenges in adjusting in a large class set-up.” Yue shared. “It’s nothing to worry about though. We’ve had several transferees in the past as well and this is usual; I expect that might take a little bit longer since it’s a transition from homeschooling to a big school.”

Tenzin frowned and he hurt for his daughter. His two children had both been homeschooled until recently.

They also had to experience a lot of upheaval in the past year or so – from the divorce, to being uprooted from their childhood home, moving to a new city, and then going to a new school.

He did notice that while his son was as precocious as ever (maybe owing to his young age?), his daughter had become more subdued since their move.

“What can we do for her?”

“Well, we have a big sister-little sister type of mentorship program.” The teacher pushed forward a brochure and several index cards. “It’s mostly an afterschool interaction activity, we have here several students who have been volunteering. Maybe you’d like to ask Ikki to join?” She pointed at the index cards. “Feel free to select which mentor you think would help her best. We usually ask the parent or the student to select their preferred mentor profile from the roster. We would not want Ikki to feel uncomfortable; you’d know her best than any teacher.”

He nodded. After a few moments perusing the index cards and the brochure and pulled out one from the pile. “Let’s go with this girl.”

Tenzin pointed out to a profile labelled Jinora.

 ---

Jinora, Home

The ten-year old girl has just finished putting hair in a bun when she heard a knock on her bedroom door.

“Jinora!” It was her oldest brother. “Mom says I can use the car today – want to leave with us instead of riding the bus?”

“Sure!” She called back, quickly grabbing her backpack. “I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Alright!”

Smack!

“Hey! Why did you do that for?”

“Good morning bro!”

Jinora rolled her eyes good-naturedly. That was probably her other brother slapping the arm of the other one.

Even at eighteen and sixteen years old respectively, they tend to act like children occasionally to the consternation of their mother.

She hurried down, knowing that if she did not do so, there would be no pancakes left for her.

Jinora heard her mother’s gruff voice in the dining room. “Bolin! Leave some eggs for your sister!”

“But, Mom,” Bolin spoke through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “I’m a growing boy. I need this stuff.”

“And Jinora is a growing girl,” Their mother drolly responded, taking a sip of her coffee after putting down the last batch of pancakes on the platter. “There should be enough from everyone.”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Jinora immediately sat down and her brother forked two pancakes to her plate. “Thanks, Mako.” She slathered butter all over the cakes then squeezed a load of maple syrup.

She ignored Bolin gagging at her left at the amount of sweetness. She also ignored her mother who was hiding a smile and shaking her head at seeing the display.

In their family, it was only Jinora had a penchant for sweets. Her mother said she likely took after her father in that regard.

Her father…her absentee father…

Jinora shook off her maudlin thoughts when she saw Pabu, Bolin’s pet guinea pig, land on her mother’s shoulder, probably hopping from her brother’s backpack which was hung behind his chair.

Pabu began chewing their mother’s greying hair without warning.

Wheek-wheek-wheek.

“BOLIN!”

“I’m so sorry, Mom! Pabu get down from there – leave mom’s hair alone!”

All in all, it was another morning in their household.

It was noisy and sometimes chaotic, but Jinora would not exchange it for the world.

 ---

Ikki, library

Truth be told, Ikki liked going to school. She even liked her teacher and classmates.

She liked to be busy and the activities were very interesting. Getting homeschooled and only seeing their tutor, nanny and Meelo had become very tedious anyway.

Staying at their old home also reminded her acutely that their mother was not there anymore. She did not understand what happened, but she tried to.

It has been more than a year since their parents sat her and her brother down to explain that they were separating but it did not mean they did not love her and Meelo any less.

At first, she thought it might have been her fault (or maybe Meelo’s fault for that matter, he did fart a lot and that annoyed her terribly). Her dad and mom were quick to quash those theories, however. They spoke of drifting apart, change in priorities and other grown-up things that she supposed she will understand when she gets older.

But for now, she supposed as she opened her notebook on one of the long tables in the library, they would need to get used to their new living arrangement.

It was difficult last year as they were shuttled to and from two households. It also did not help that their mother was starting out with her new venture had been spending less time at her home. On the other hand, Ikki noticed their father spending more time with them, cutting down his work hours. It all came to a head when Pema had said she will be moving to another country to establish her new business. And so, they ended up -.

“Hey, are you Ikki?”

Ikki looked up to see an older girl with dark brown hair in a bun.

She nodded her head yes.

The girl gave her a bright smile and extended her hand.

“I’m Jinora and welcome to Republic City!”

 ---

Lin, Future Industries Head Office

Lin tiredly wiped her glasses clean before putting them on again, rereading her email response for one last time before hitting send.

It had been a long yet productive day. Her team had managed to fulfill all the visual design requirements that were due that day. She reviewed the different files sent to the printers, making sure that the final and correct collaterals were attached.

Her last task was to ensure that the last set of proposals were on-brand and aligned with Future Industries’ visual identity. Once she had provided her comments and revisions needed on the file, she sat back as she waited for the files to be uploaded to their server.

She reached for her cellphone, wanting to check on her kids while waiting. She looked at their family group chat and read messages from the last time she sent one.

 Ohana (Lin repressed the urge to cringe. That was the final time that she would ask Bolin to create their group chat)

Lin: Kids – as mentioned earlier, I’ll be home a bit late. No need to drop by to fetch me; have dinner already and don’t wait up.

Jinora: Mom, I’ll be staying behind after class – I got a mentee! ☺ Mako Bolin can you wait up?

Mako: Jinora Bo has training today; I think we can wait for you.

Bolin: Jinora 👍🏼

Jinora: Mako Bolin thanks! 🙌

Jinora: Mako what will you be doing while waiting? You sure you’ll be okay?

Mako: Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.

Lin scrolled through some more messages. Knowing her eldest, Mako would like skulk off to the library.

Jinora: I met my mentee this afternoon. She’s such a lovely girl.

Lin smiled at this. Her daughter had always been the polite one.

Jinora: Her name’s Ikki and she’s two years younger than me. She said she and her father had first checked out Patola Mountain Primary.

Lin frowned. Patola Primary was far; she went there as a child.

Mako: Kid didn’t like it there?

Jinora: They didn’t have the chance to know. They had to move besause of her father’s job.

Bolin: heeey sorry guys- just about to be done with training. Just gonna shower …unless I just shower at home?

Jinora: Ew, no Bo. Shower first please

Mako: Agree. You’ll stink up the car, bro.

Ding!

Lin drew her attention from her phone as her laptop screen indicated that the files have been uploaded. She hit the send button and packed up for the day.

She was looking forward to spending some quiet time with her kids tonight.

 ---

Bumi, White Lotus Headquarters

Bumi leaned back in his fully ergonomic chair, thinking about how times had changed.

Being in an office was something he balked at when he was younger. But now, after serving a long career in defense and military, he submitted his retirement and come to the aid of his younger brother.

Ah, his only brother – back in the day, he would be hard-pressed to keep contact with his brother.

His brother who took on the role of spearheading their family’s company back when their father died.

His brother who had the task of continuing to revive the company and making sure it keeps up with the times.

His brother, who, despite being the youngest, was tagged by the board of directors as the heir apparent owing to his excellent academic records.

His brother who Bumi had felt envious of at some point. He later on realized that his brother actually missed out on a lot of freedom in his life.

His brother who managed to keep their company part of the Top 100 and make malls relevant again.

His brother who probably made some life decisions for the benefit of their company rather than his own.

His brother who had been through hell and back the past year when he and his much younger wife called it quits. His brother whose ex-wife is now galivanting somewhere in the Fire Nation, expanding a business built on horticulture and floristry.

His brother who, despite making some decisions that Bumi might not agree with, is still family.

And if there was anything that their parents taught them – family is permanent.

The ex-military man took a deep breath, looking at their last family photo. For what it’s worth, he liked to think that their fragmented family had found its way back into each other in their adulthood.

Bumi had to admit that Tenzin did have remarkable business acumen that benefited their company, a conglomerate built on the mall industry. With the fourth industrial revolution at hand and the shift towards virtual and digital, the White Lotus Corporation had been challenged during the last years of their father’s life. Tenzin had worked hard to change the ways of working and the culture in the company.

To do it, he had to make sure that there is a buy-in from the board. Ironically, to bring the company to the current century, he had to abide with one of the most archaic practices – an arranged marriage, a marriage that would serve as a press release to the business world in general, that their company was stable and there to stay.

Bumi had been surprised to get a call from Tenzin back then. He had called to let him know of his impending engagement, seeking support. Bumi had cheered, given his congratulations – but named the wrong bride. He had launched into a long tirade, berating his brother for his choices. Tenzin had shouted back his defense.

He still did not understand why Tenzin acted the way he did. However, he could never regret his niece and nephew which came from this questionable business-like union.

Bloop-bloop-bloop.

Speaking of which…

“Hey Uncle Bumi!”

“Hello there, cloudchild!” Bumi greeted his niece with a nickname his sister Kya came up with, given that the kids were actually born somewhere near the mountains. “How’s the new school?”

“It’s great!” Ikki beamed at him and gushed into a long narrative of what she had been up to in the past days.

Bumi enjoyed video conferencing with his niece and nephew. Granted, Meelo had a short attention span but Ikki had always had the flair for storytelling.

It pleased him to see her spark back. He had heard from his brother and their trusted bodyguard/chauffeur Shung that Ikki had been withdrawn during the first weeks in Republic City. It saddened him to learn that the otherwise bubbly child had been affected in that way.

“…And then, I invited her over! Daddy said it was okay – and she’s sooooo nice. Didjaknow she also knows how to play the piano! We practiced a bit. She’s good even if her family didn’t have a piano, they only had this electronic keyboard but it’s so short. But she did well. She said she had a stepdad and it was totally okay. They’re a happy family. D’you think I’ll have a stepmom too? I think it would be okay if Daddy thinks so and maybe we’ll be a happy family here too and you know I joined this contest in school and I-.”

“Whoa, slow down, kiddo.” Bumi let out his booming laughter. “I didn’t quite catch it – what’s the name of your new friend?” He was heartened that Ikki seemed to have adjusted better now.

“Jinora!” His seven-year-old niece practically chirped the name. “She’s actually here!” Ikki turned to someone from beyond the view of the webcam. “Jin, it’s my Uncle Bumi – I want you to meet him!”

“Um, it’s fine, Ikki.” A calm voice of an older child can be heard. “I can wait here.”

“Nooonseeense.” Bumi could see Ikki pull something, rather someone to the camera. “Uncle Bumi, this is my friend Jinora. Jinora, my Uncle Bumi.” She said by way of introducing them.

Jinora gives a small wave and a soft hello.

Bumi gives them a short bow. “Nice to meet you, Jinora. It’s great to meet the friend of my favorite niece (Ikki ­please don’t tell Korra).”

Ikki gives a delighted clap and proceeds into another lengthy tale on what she and Jinora were working on that day at home.

Bumi smiles back at them, observing the children’s banter as they demonstrate the monologue that Ikki was preparing for. It was amusing.

Heh, they could be cousins.

He recalled when he was young, he, his siblings and even the sisters-who-must-not-be-named would stay over in one house after school to work on school projects. It had been one of the highlights of his childhood. He was glad that his niece would be somewhat experience it; he had been worried a few years back when Tenzin and Pema (primarily Pema) were very protective of their kids. It was to the point that they were both homeschooled and basically kept out of the public eye and the public itself.

It can’t be good for socialization. But what can he say? He didn’t have kids so he probably wouldn’t know what he was talking about, right?

He’s just fun ole Uncle Bumi.

Nonetheless, as he turned his attention back to the two girls, Bumi promised himself that he will always be there for his brother’s kids. It’s the least he could do as their godfather.

 ---

Mako, Republic City High

“I worry about Mom.” Mako picked at his dumplings during lunch time, a stark contrast to his brother who was eating a lot (“Coach said I needed to bulk up!”).

“Why? Has my dad been overworking her?” Asami slipped beside him at their usual lunch table. She brought out her packed lunch of pasta and a bottle of coconut water. “Just let me know and I can try to look into it.” She was, after all, interning at Future Industries in her spare time.

“Now that’s just powerplay.” The exchange student from Ba Sing Se High chortled, taking a sip of his sparkling water. “And that’s a no-no and Auntie will definitely get mad if she hears about that.”

“You would know about powerplay,” Bolin swallowed a mouthful of chicken, pointing his fork at the other boy. “Wasn’t that why you got the last slot in the elective you wanted to take this year?”

“Who? Me?” The other boy dramatically placed a hand on his chest, eyes widening. “You think, I Wu would stoop so low as to manipulate the results of the audition for the voice elective? Don’t you think I have enough talent to get into that class?”

Bolin just snorted into his food and Asami choked on her drink. Wu cracked a smile at their reactions.

“Again, Wu – don’t let Mom hear you call her Auntie.” Mako reiterated for the nth time in their friendship. “She hates it.”

“That’s why I do it.” Wu winked at them.

“Wait, Mako, what were you saying about Mom?” Bolin managed to ask in between bites of food. “Is something wrong? I mean, she’s a little bit run-down but she said it’s just because of the time of the year.” The last quarter of the year, after all, is usually the busiest.

“No, it’s just – well,” Mako sought words to explain it. “I’ll be leaving for college, you’ll be away for training, and okay, Jinora would be there but she’s in middle school now…” He trailed off. With Jinora’s aptitude and interests, Mako would not be surprised if she took on a lot of electives and extra-curricular activities. “Mom works too hard, you know?” He ended lamely.

“She has always looked out for us, but yeah,” A shadow passed over his brother’s face. “Ever since Pa passed away a few years back, she poured much of her energy to ensuring our welfare. She’s barely spent time for herself.”

Mako met Bolin’s now worried eyes.

The brothers knew that their mom had sacrificed a lot for them and Jinora.

When they first met Lin and one-year-old Jinora, she had already been under a lot of duress – taking care of a baby, leaving behind Jinora’s deadbeat dad, settling down in a new neighborhood and restarting a career. It had been two years later when she married their father San, who had been a sergeant at the city’s police station at the time.

And, Mako thought wearily, history has not been kind to Lin Beifong at all. While they did have four years (four wonderful years that Mako will treasure for the rest of his life), their fairytale-like family life came to an abrupt end.

San was involved in an armed bank robbery four years later and had not survived the gunshot wounds – leaving Lin behind with two boys at the brink of puberty and a young daughter.

Bolin and Jinora had been very confused at the time. Mako, already fifteen, had been expecting that he and Bolin would be forced into the system or sent off to their relatives in Ba Sing Se. He felt that Lin would not be in any way obligated to take him and his brother in; they were not blood relatives anyway. They were just stepchildren.

To his stunned astonishment, Lin did neither.  He recalled crying in Lin’s arms that night after his father’s funeral.

She had asked him, with a confused expression, why he was packing. Lin wept alongside him as she explained that Mako and Bolin are her sons and there was no way that she was sending them away.

Since then, Mako made sure to look after his mom the way she looked after them. The brothers’ protectiveness was soon well-known in their neighborhood.

Probably also why no one had expressed any type of interest towards Lin even years after…

Mako reflected that it might have been a good move on their part but now it might have been a little bit selfish.

He and Bolin would now need to rethink their strategy…

After all, their mom Lin deserves all the happiness in the world.

 ---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School – Parking Lot

“Are you sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to have a sleepover?” Tenzin looked over at his daughter, a teasing grin out of place on his face.

“Of course not, Daddy.” Ikki replied indignantly, kicking pebbles as they waited at the parking lot.

“Why can’t you do the project at our house?” He was actually leaning towards allowing Ikki on her first ever sleepover/overnight but he wanted to hear from his daughter.

“We’ll need a big big printer, Daddy.” Ikki raised her arms to show him just how big. “We’ll need to print out my project and Jinora’s mommy has a big printer and lamin-lami-lamintor (“Laminating machine, dear?” Tenzin clarified.) because she frilancets (“Freelances?”).”

“Mmhhmm.” Tenzin looked across the school building, shifting Ikki’s overnight bag on his shoulder.

Ikki timidly approached him the other night, asking if she could spend Friday night and Saturday at her friend Jinora’s house. They had an output required of them of the big sister-little sister program. Tenzin was actually unclear as to what is the specific output that the girls had decided on but it did require a large-scale printer and a laminating machine.

Jinora attempted to explain to him what they were going to do during the last week that they were in his house but he felt out of his depth so he had nodded and let them work on what they needed to.

The father had met Jinora several times already in the past months so he knew the child was in earnest that their intent for the overnight activity would be mainly to finish a project. He also realized (well, Bumi made him realize) that Ikki was old enough for a sleepover (and Pema’s overprotectiveness would be to the detriment of their kids’ development). Additionally, he thought grimly, it would also keep Meelo from wreaking havoc on the work area of the girls.

Nonetheless, he took up Jinora’s mom’s offer to meet up for snacks before she takes the kids home. This would give him a chance to meet the mom, discuss some ground rules and as well thank the mom privately for letting Jinora help Ikki come out of her shell during her first months in Republic City Primary. Jinora did say that her pa and mom used to do the same before she spends the night over at her other friends – the parents meet up, share a small meal, get to know each other. Tenzin thought this was a good parenting tactic; it would definitely assuage his fears as well.

But now, said mom was late.

Jinora had hurried to them, dragging with her a large cartolina and illustration board. She explained that her mom’s work meeting overran and if it would be okay if she rode with them? Her mom will be meeting them at the local diner instead, so they don’t get caught up in traffic.

Tenzin could feel his impatience growing.

So far, this woman was not making a good impression on him.

How on earth she produced a lovely daughter like Jinora was beyond him.

 ---

Lin, Narook’s

Damn Sato, Lin ground her teeth as she finally parked her car into the last parking space in front of Narook’s. Of all the days for a meeting to go over time, it has to be today when she had explicitly asked to leave early to fetch her daughter.

Jinora had provided her enough context to know that making a good impression with Ikki’s dad was important to her daughter.

Lin heard that the dad was some big shot divorced corporate guy, who, she thought, was a bit paranoid about his kids’ safety.

Lin acted as an arts club moderator so she was regularly present at the Republic City High, which gave her chances to meet Ikki whenever she drops by the primary school to fetch Jinora.

The girl was a sweet child – energetic and delightful once she felt comfortable enough with you. It had come to her attention, in the short conversations with the kid, that she was not allowed to go out and play with other kids in their old neighborhood so she was very much excited to have a new friend outside of her class and her family.

When Jinora mentioned their culminating project and their dilemma on the timeline and materials, Lin suggested that they take the project home to work on.

The crestfallen expression of Ikki as she stated that her dad would not allow her pushed Lin to share that she’s willing to talk to the dad to help convince him to give his permission.

The infectious smile that burst on Ikki’s face was enough to convince Lin that she made the right decision.

Now, however, as she entered the diner, spotting her daughter at the corner booth, she froze and started to doubt all her life decisions that led to this moment.

Wondering and questioning the universe what had she done in her past life for her to deserve this.

Across Jinora, beside the talkative Ikki, sat Tenzin – her former boyfriend and Jinora’s father.

 ---

Note: Soooo hmmmmmm. What do you think?

[fanficimagery]

Flares

Summary: Imagine keeping a secret from your friends, but when you’re in need of a favor.. that secret you’ve guarded is now out.

Words: 2.9K Warnings: Cancer. The holidays have got me thinking about my mom and I just want to give someone the happy ending my mom never got.

Curled up on the sofa, no amount of TV has been able to distract you. It's been about a month since you've started chemotherapy and as warned your hair has slowly started to fall out. You had bawled earlier that morning when you noticed it, and then tried to distract yourself by binge eating and watching rom-coms. Unfortunately it didn't work.

Sighing, you pick up your iPhone to check the time. It's just after four in the afternoon and without second guessing yourself, you scroll through your contacts until you land on one name in particular. You're not as close to him as you are to others in your friend group, but you do trust him. So after quickly composing a text, you hit send on it and hope for the best.

[Hey, Jeff. When you have a free moment, can we talk?]

Surprisingly it doesn't take long for him to reply.

[I'm actually in neighborhood. Wanna grab a bite to eat?]

[Yeah. That's fine.]

[I'll text you when I'm outside.]

With your stomach in knots, you get up and quickly make yourself decently presentable for the public. You take two edibles that had been prescribed by your doctor when the nausea and anxiety became too much, and pray that you can keep your food down when out with your friend. Jeff soon texts and you quickly pocket some money, your phone, and your keys before leaving out the front door.

Then settling into the front passenger seat of Jeff's vehicle, you flash him a tired grin. "Hey, how's your day been?"

"Boring." As Jeff pulls away from the curb, you buckle yourself in and then try to sit as still as possible. "Had to film an ad for Old Spice, but that was over and done with surprisingly fast. How was your day?"

"Honestly? It's been a shit day," you say, chuckling softly. "It's kind of why I wanted to talk to you."

"Uh oh." He glances between the road and you. "This can't be good."

"You have no idea how right you are." Sighing, you then say, "I'm not sure I want to tell you right now. It's kind of an appetite killer and I already took two edibles."

Jeff frowns. "Edibles? I didn't know you were into that."

"I'm not, but they were prescribed by my doctor."

"Doctor? What the hell is going on, Y/N?"

"I'm sorry." Wringing your hands together nervously, you then meet Jeff's stare after he's pulled off into a gas station parking lot. "I'm sick. I didn't want to tell anyone until I absolutely had to and this morning I realized I was going to have to start because I need to ask you for a favor."

"Y/N," he starts, "the only time someone is prescribed edibles is when-"

"-when someone has cancer. When the chemo becomes too much and the patient can't keep food down."

Jeff's eyes close as he deeply exhales. "Jesus." A moment of silence passes and then, "what's this favor?"

"I need you to shave my head."

"What?"

"During chemo, hair starts falling out anywhere between two to four weeks. It's been a little over five for me and I noticed it falling out this morning."

He gulps. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Your voice wobbles and tears fill your eyes, but you're quick to wipe them away before they fall. "I don't want to go to a stranger for this. This is really personal and I would rather the person shaving my head be someone I trust."

"Then yes. I'll do it." You smile, but you can't help the tears. "Christ, Y/N, come here." Jeff opens his arms for a hug and you unbuckle your seatbelt so you're able to hug him over the center console. "You know you're gonna have to tell everyone. And soon."

"I will. I kind of have an idea of how I want to tell them, but you'd have to agree to it."

Pulling out of the hug, Jeff grins. "Okay then. We'll talk details over dinner because I'm sure you're starting to feel really hungry."

"I am." Jeff chuckles and then starts to drive. On the road to the chosen restaurant , you finally say, "Thanks, Jeff."

"Don't even mention it. I will always be there for my friends." He flashes you that dimpled smile of his and for a moment you feel like you can breathe again.

Letting someone in on this secret of yours feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest.

"So are you gonna tell me why we're doing a special edition of Jeff's Barbershop in my living room?" David wonders.

Zane and Heath are helping Jeff setup, pushing back the furniture and laying down some plastic so hair doesn't get caught in the carpet.

"You'll know soon enough."

"Can you at least let us know whose hair you're cutting?" He then asks.

Jeff sighs. "You'll know soon enough, man." David frowns, and Heath and Zane suddenly look interested in Jeff's vague answers. "Just- no jokes. Alright? This is going to be pretty serious."

"Jesus. What the hell is going on?" Zane nervously chuckles, attempting to cut the tension. It doesn't work.

"Okay. Well who's all coming?" David asks.

"Mariah, Erin, Carly, Y/N, Natalie, Jason, Todd, and Matt. Everyone else couldn't make it, so we'll call them afterward."

"Man," Heath sighs. "I've got a bad feeling about today. If Jeff isn't cracking jokes, something must really be up."

Jeff only shrugs, refusing to say anymore on the matter.

          - X - X - X - X - X -

By the time everyone is gathered at David's and has calmed down from greeting one another, Jeff stands next to the chair in the middle of the room. He picks up the black cape from the seat and holds it in one hand, staring out at everyone. "Ready?"

Everyone then glances around the room, anxious to see who's going to stand, and you almost laugh at their surprised exclamations when you push yourself up to your feet.

"What?!" Erin shouts, smiling. "No way!" She then looks to Jeff. "I thought you didn't cut women's hair? You nearly panicked when I asked you buzz my baby hairs."

"This is a special occasion of sorts. You'll understand soon enough," he says.

Now standing next to Jeff, you stuff your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and you lean into him for some much needed comfort. "I know you're all probably confused," you start, "but I have something to tell you and I figured I'd tell as many of you as I can in one go because this is kind of hard to say out loud."

Mariah frowns and leans forward. "What's going on, girl?"

You take a deep breath, but it doesn't help. Tears immediately spring to your eyes, even as you try to screw your mouth and nose up to keep them at bay. The tears suddenly have everyone on edge. "I.. I have cancer." The entire group goes silent and those who'd been staring at their phones immediately drop them. "I found out a little over a month ago and have been having chemo sessions for about just as long."

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" David wonders.

You shrug. "It was hard to process at first, but then I just got scared that you'd all treat me differently once you found out. And now that my hair is falling out and Jeff kindly accepted to do me a favor, I figured I'd tell you instead of surprising you with my bald noggin'."

Heath and David are the first out of their seats, the two young men sandwiching you in a hug. You laugh, but then your laughter turns into sobs as you cling to them. One by one, the rest of your friends stand to embrace you and whisper words of encouragement.

When they're done, you step back and wipe your eyes. "None of you guys actually have to stay for the cut, but you're more than welcome to. Jeff's gonna film as if he were back at his own place and I'm just going to talk about how I found out about the cancer."

"We're staying," Jason says. "We're gonna be here for you every step of the way."

You finally take a seat in the chair and Jeff wraps the cape around your neck. You gulp down the lump in your throat, inhaling and exhaling loudly to prepare yourself for what's about to come. The sound of the clippers turn on and you close your eyes when you feel the teeth of the clippers at the front of your hairline.

Then almost as if he's unsure, Jeff slowly drags the clippers atop your head. The moment you feel your hair being cut, you can't stop the tears that start to flow once more. This time, however, they're silent.

"So, uh, how did you find out about the cancer?" Jeff asks.

He continues to cut and it takes you a moment to find your voice. "It was stupid, really," you huff. "I was just feeling kind of worn down, but I wasn't sick. So after being utterly exhausted for no apparent reason, I went to the doctor where they drew some blood and found abnormalities in my blood."

"Didn't you lose your mom to cancer?" Natalie asks.

"I did." Shakily smiling, you take a moment to control your warring emotions. "Since my mom had it, the doctors urged me to get checked out early. I refused. And then I refused again when my dad's sister was diagnosed and my chances of having it as well were even higher."

"God," Erin sighs. "I don't think I could not know. I'd have gotten checked out as soon as possible."

"It's easy to say that if you haven't seen anyone go through it," you tell her. "But I watched my mom go through chemo several times and watched her health slowly deteriorate. I didn't want to get as sick as she did. It was horrible. So I came to the conclusion that if I didn't know, then it was okay. It'd take forever to actually show symptoms and I was fine with that."

"But the symptoms showed up early," Zane guesses.

You nod. "They did."

"What- what kind of cancer is it?" Matt asks.

"Breast. Exactly like my mom had, but nowhere as advanced as hers was."

"So that's a good thing. Right?" Todd wonders.

"I mean.." you trail off, shrugging. "My chances are better than hers were, but I'd rather not have cancer to begin with."

Everyone falls silent and the only sound for a few minutes are the buzzing clippers.

You let Jeff move your head this way as he cuts, almost missing his question. "Now that you know, do you wish you'd have gotten checked sooner?"

"Honestly? Yeah. Because if they had caught it sooner, then I wouldn't need chemo," you admit. "So my advice to everyone is, is that even though you hate doctor visits, schedule them for at least every six months. And if your family has a history of cancer, get checked as soon as possible and schedule appointments every three months to make sure nothing pops up suddenly."

"Okay. And we're.. done."

Jeff cleans you off and unlatches the cape from around your neck, but you're frozen in your seat. Your head feels a whole lot lighter and though you asked Jeff for this haircut, you don't want to see it.

"Y/N?" Carly's soft voice pulls you out of your mind.

"I'm okay." You shakily smile. "I just- it's just a lot to take in. Now I know how my mom felt when my brother cut her hair those three times."

Jeff comes around to stop before you, he grabbing your hands and gently pulling you to your feet. "Whatever you need, we're here for you." He wraps his arms around you, tucking you under his chin. "If you want to go to a wig shop, we'll go to a wig shop."

You sniffle, chuckling. "No offense to your fantastic cut, but we're definitely going to a wig shop."

"Hell yes we are, baby," Zane agrees.

The others slowly start to unwind from the serious situation you dropped into their laps, and though there are still tears in their eyes and pity in their expressions, they try to make the best of it.

Plans are made to keep you decently active, your friends wheedle more information out of you about your family's health history, and then before Jeff can leave you follow him outside.

"Hey," you call out, stalling him, the hood of your jacket pulled up and over your head. "I know how annoying some of your viewers are, so if you want I can make an intro or outro for your video to let everyone know the video was my idea and that you didn't make it for the views."

Jeff sheepishly smiles. "You watch my videos?"

"We're friends, aren't we?" You grin. "Of course I watch them. So what do you say?"

"I'd appreciate it. Thanks, Y/N."

"Mhm. And thank you. For everything."

Jeff's dimples make an appearance as he smiles, he nodding before getting in his vehicle to take his leave.

The news of your cancer took every one of the fans by surprise.

Jeff had edited his video as quickly as he could and posted it with your permission. Then as soon as his video was up, you took a couple of selfies and posted them to Instagram with a link to the video that explained everything. The love and support that had quickly followed left you in tears, and feeling quite content with yourself for your decision to no longer keep your illness a secret.

The chemotherapy eventually got the best of you and there were times when you couldn't even get out of bed. It went from your friends constantly checking on you to moving you into David's spare bedroom when they found you struggling to breathe one day from an anxiety attack. You hadn't wanted to become a burden, but everyone was in agreement that they'd feel better if you lived with one of them until treatment was over. And seeing as you lived closest to Natalie and David, it was their home you moved into.

You filmed bits for everyone's vlogs to talk about your journey with cancer and about the progress you'd made while getting treatment. But soon the treatments stopped and you had to endure yet more testing to see if the chemo was doing it's job.

Then a week later, you're getting ready to go visit the doctor for your results.

As you're sliding your feet into a pair of sneakers, David's just getting home.

"Hey, Y/N. Going out?"

"Yeah." Pulling a beanie atop your head, you fix it just right before meeting David's gaze. "Today's the big day. I find out whether or not I can stop chemo for good or have to have another round."

His eyes subtly widen. "Yeah? Can I go?"

"Sure. You mind driving? I'm a bit anxious."

"Not at all. Lets go."

The drive is mostly a relaxed one, David asking about your plans should you get good news. You told him that you'd be moving back into your own apartment and that you were going back to work as soon as possible because your job was still waiting for you.

David then proceeded to assure you that no matter what he and all your friends would be there for you to fall back on should you need it. Of course you knew that, but it was nice to hear it again.

The following wait in the waiting room is quite excruciating and David grips onto your hand as your knee bounces anxiously. Smiling sheepishly, you try to quit the knee bouncing, but it starts back up moments later.

When your name is finally called, you drag David with you into the back room. Hand in hand, you enter the doctor's main office and only have to wait another hand full of minutes. Your doctor's expression is quite unreadable and even David's knee starts to bounce anxiously, but when she beams at you, you break down.

Remission. You are in complete remission.

Your face is in your hands as you sob, David's rubbing your back, and it takes you a moment to calm down. Then when you're finally able to control yourself and glance up, even the doctor is teary-eyed. She tells you that all tests and scans came back clean, but she'd still like to see you every three months to make sure nothing suddenly pops back up. You're more than okay with that and after gathering some paperwork, and standing up to hug your doctor, you and David are soon on your way.

Outside the office building, you and David stare at one another before he opens his arms and you throw yourself at him. He's laughing, you're crying and laughing, and the two of you just hug it out far longer than a hug should last.

"So who are we telling first?" He wonders, grinning.

"Jeff. Definitely Jeff," you say. "He was the first to know I had cancer, so he should the first- well, second now- to know I'm in remission."

"Well alright then. But just so you know, I'm recording their reactions."

You laugh. "Of course you are."

[pixelfun20]

Flower Fields, Ch 1

Summary: Season 7 of Hermitcraft has begun, and their newest and youngest member, Tubbo, is more than ready to prove himself in the eyes of his friends. New memories are made and friendships are forged, but old ghosts from the past still linger, and Tubbo will soon discover that fate has a way of letting things come full circle.

Notes: This an fic idea I legitimately came up with yesterday, based off of @give-grian-rights ‘s Watcher!Tubbo and Watcher!Tommy AU (I hope you don’t mind! I just loved this idea). I wrote this a single evening, let it sit for the night, and decided to publish it today. I hope you guys like it! Just to note, I haven’t finalized a title (or plot, besides some major points) yet, so if y’all have any ideas, let me know!

Chapter 1:

I'm not yours, and you're not mine

But we can sit and pass the time

For a moment, he floated in darkness.

Then in the next, he was falling through the air.

He didn’t fall far, thankfully, and his impact was cushioned by another body right underneath him.

Tubbo groaned, blinking against the bright rays of the sun as he tried to adjust from the darkness that had just encompassed him. He shifted, feeling rough cloth underneath him, and realized he was lying on someone.

“Oh! Sorry!” He exclaimed, swiftly moving off the other. He looked down as he saw a man with dark brown hair, a beard, and a leather jacket sit up, rolling his shoulders with a wince. “I think I spawned right on top of you, xB.”

xBCrafted just chuckled, pulling himself up to his feet. Tubbo followed him, cracking his back as he went, and looked around, trying to discern where he was.

Ah, man. It seemed like they had spawned on a small, sandy island, that was, worst of all, completely devoid of trees. Already it was crowding with the arrival of the other Hermits, with a few more pairs repeating the same situation as he and xB, spawning one on top of the other in the enclosed space. In the distance, he could see a large mooshroom island looming above the waves, but besides that there was nothing in sight.

“Looks like we’ll be going for a swim today!” xB chirped as Iskall spawned a foot or so away from them, landing face-first in the sand. “X wasn’t lying when he said we’d have a tricky time starting the Season.”

“And here I was hoping to stay dry,” Tubbo sighed as Iskall shot up, spluttering sand in the air. The two of them laughed at his sorry state.

“Very funny, you two,” the elder man grumbled. Iskall85, or Iskall as he was commonly known, looked considerably older than the two friends, perhaps in his early thirties. He had semi-long, scraggly brown hair and a cybernetic eye, as well as a green sweatshirt and brown vest.

“Oho, is that Scar?” xB exclaimed. Tubbo followed his gaze, and sure enough, a man in a purple bathrobe and dyed-white hair had just spawned, half in the water. Ah, GoodTimesWithScar was an odd one, alright, he thought with a laugh.

“What did he do?” Tubbo giggled. Scar turned towards them, seeming to hear his comment, and put his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” he announced semi-solemnly. “The wizard life has chosen me.”

Iskall nearly cackled at that, throwing his head back, and xB and Tubbo joined him. Trust Scar to find new and creative ways to start the season! Tubbo made a mental note to drop by in a few weeks and see where this new bit got him.

“Looking good, Scar!” Stress said, coming up behind him. The shortest of the Hermits, she wore a pink jacket and kept her straight brown hair short and to the chin. “How’re you doing, Tub?”

“Great!” Tubbo chirped back. “Excited to start the Season right.”

“Let me know if you need anything, love,” she added, clapping her hands together. “That goes for all of you! I’d chat for longer, but Mumbo and I have some plans we need to discuss. See you all in a bit!” And with that she was gone, hopping over to the other side of the island. Scar went right on her heels, jogging over to Cubfan135 (a balding man in a lab coat around Iskall’s age), who was standing next to Mumbo Jumbo.

Tubbo scanned over the rapidly growing group of people, grinning once he caught sight of a flash of black-striped yellow armor in the crowd. 

“Hey! X!” He called out, waving. A man fully covered in armor, painted to resemble a bee, looked over to them. Through his vizor, Tubbo could see the corners of his brown eyes crinkle in the tell-tale sign of a smile, and he approached the trio. “Love the outfit!”

“Thank you, Tubbo,” XisumaVoid replied, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m quite liking your new design, too.”

Tubbo fought back a blush, looking down at himself. Like the elder man, he’d changed up his usual outfit to celebrate the newest mob addition to Season 6, the bees. He’d changed into a yellow jacket with black stripes on the sleeves over a gray shirt, as well as black pants with a yellow stripe down the sides. 

“Alrighty, I’ll be leaving you two to your father-son bonding,” Iskall cut in, waving a hand as he walked off. “I’m going to go catch up with Keralis.”

“Oh, will you stop with that!” Xisuma said good-naturedly as Tubbo really did his best not to blush. xB laughed again. Iskall just whistled, walking over to where Keralis, a man in his late thirties in a blue shirt and jeans, had just spawned. The server’s admin turned back to Tubbo. “Sorry about that. You know how he can be.”

Tubbo just shook his head a bit, trying to suppress a smile. Ah, it’d been far too long since the Hermits had all been in one place like this. He’d missed the action of it all.

He, Xisuma, and xB chatted together for a few minutes as everyone spawned in and caught their bearings. It seemed everyone had big plans for the Season. While he and Xisuma had gone with a bee theme, xB was apparently planning to really Hermit out the season, far away from spawn. Scar was certainly embracing the wizard part of himself, and rumor had it BDubs and Doc were going to be neighbors, which was a recipe for disaster and, more importantly, funny stories. 

“Okay, everyone!” It was Keralis’ shout that drew the twenty-some players out of their respective conversations. Almost unconsciously, they’d formed an oval around the perimeter of their tiny spawn island. “Intro time! Let’s go, X!”

“What? Why me?” Xisuma protested, but Keralis just laughed and took his place back in the circle.

“C’mon, admin,” Tubbo teased him with an elbow to the side. Xisuma sighed, rolling his shoulders, then stepped out into the center of the island.

“Alright everyone. Welcome to Hermitcraft Season 7! Go!” He clapped his hands together and dashed back towards the shore, the circle immediately breaking up as the Hermits split into their groups and dove into the ocean. Tubbo laughed as he waved goodbye to xB, who took off in a different direction as he went to follow X.

The water was nice and lukewarm, and soon enough Tubbo was backstroking over the ocean. He looked up at the bright blue sky, and smiled.

~~~~~~~~~

They spent most of the first day collecting supplies. 

As it turned out, both FalseSymmetry, Hypnotizd, and ZombieCleo had decided to go in the same direction as he and Xisuma, so they ended up gathering their first bits of wood and stone together. Then there was some issue with the server that caused Xisuma to have to dive deep into the server code, in the open, at midnight, so their first night went without much sleep and with a lot of mob fighting instead.

“Well,” Cleo said the next morning, twirling her axe as Tubbo set to cooking some meat for breakfast. “That could have gone better.”

“I think the first night went just fine, thank you very much,” False shot back, sharpening her newly-minted stone sword. “I’m going to be honest, though, I’m not used to going out at night without an elytra. Or armor. Or a decent sword.”

“Hey, but did you see how many mobs I killed?” Tubbo put in, pulling out some pork chops and tossing one to Cleo. “I’m a god, I tell you.”

“Yes,” Xisuma replied. He was still sitting on one of the beds they’d made, and was double checking some of the code. “God of giving me heart attacks.”

“Not my fault you messed up part of the code! I saved your life!”

“I’d suggest you remember who bandaged that arrow wound, kid.”

Tubbo’s hand flew to his shoulder, where his jacket was torn slightly, and he blushed. “I’m not a kid!”

Everyone turned and gave him a flat look, and Tubbo blushed harder, looking down. It was no secret that he was, by far, the youngest person on the server. Most players were in their late twenties, like False and Impulse, to their late thirties, like Scar and Doc. Even the youngest before he’d arrived had been Mumbo and xB, at 24 and 19 respectively. At just barely 16, Tubbo was, well, a child compared to them.

Loathe as he was to admit it. It had been hard enough in the beginning, when he’d arrived unexpectedly at the beginning of Season 6. No one had been expecting any new players to join that Season, much less a mentally scarred 14-year-old, and he’d ended up being coddled for the first six months or so. Heck, he’d lived with Xisuma until he’d grown so tired of it he’d had to run off and make his own base without asking him, because the answer would have been no.

He was perfectly capable of living on his own! It was just… well, Tubbo knew he wasn’t as good as the others. He couldn’t make the huge, rolling complexes or over complicated redstone machines that did everything for you like the other hermits did. Of course, it made sense; he had a lot less experience and was still learning these things. But it didn’t help the fact that the others, well, they didn’t look down on him, per se, but they were always a little too willing to help, a little too protective. 

“Sure,” Cleo was drawling teasingly, drawing him out of his thoughts. Tubbo snorted and looked down at his breakfast with a shake of his head, starting to eat. 

“Oh, let him be,” Hypno put in, grabbing some food for himself. “I remember being that age. Young and ready to take on the world. At least he doesn't have any creaky old bones. I’m already feeling my back in the mornings.”

“Alrighty then!” Xisuma announced after a moment of silence, rising from his bed and closing the admin screens. “Looks like all the post-spawn bugs have been taken care of. I’m ready to head out for the day.”

“I guess this is where we all say goodbye, then,” False replied, twirling her sword. “I have the best idea for my base this season, but I gotta go north from here.”

“Tubbo and I are heading east.”

“West for me,” Cleo put in.

Hypno just shrugged. “I figured I’d wander for a bit before settling down.”

“No planning?” Tubbo asked, then grinned, glad for the change of subject. “I like your style, Hypno.”

The bandana-ed man inclined his head at him with a smile. He wasn’t a new player to the server, not at all, but from what Tubbo knew he hadn’t been around for a few years. Prior to the last few days as they’d prepared to jump Seasons, he’d hardly even heard of the man before, and thus didn’t know him too well.

Xisuma clapped Tubbo’s shoulder, eyes crinkling from that helmet-obscured smile of his. 

“Ready to go?” he asked.

Tubbo whooped. “Bees, here we come!”

~~~~~~~~~

Perfect.

That was the only way Tubbo could describe the place he’d come across. He sat in the branches of one of the tallest trees in the area, looking out to where the forest he’d been traversing ended and the plains biome, scattered with flowers in small patches around, with gentle hills rolling even further in the distance.

It was an idyllic location, and perfect for his plans for the Season.

Another day had passed, marking it Day 3 of Season 7. After that first somewhat disastrous night, he and Xisuma had separated from their initial group and travelled to find a base together. Xisuma had decided, for some reason, that he was going to build his base in the middle of the jungle, so they had set up camp there for the night. Come dawn, however, Tubbo was ready to go and scout for a place of his own, and with a promise to check in with Xisuma every day or so, he’d set off that morning.

It was early afternoon, now, and honestly, Tubbo was pleased with how quickly he’d found his spot. It was only a half-day’s journey, while walking, from Xisuma, so once he’d gotten elytra he’d be able to visit whenever he wanted. Besides that, news had it that Keralis and Beef were only a little ways out, which would be fun since Tubbo didn’t know them too well.

Humming quietly, Tubbo reached into his inventory and took out the only belonging he’d taken with him from Season 6－a medium-sized notebook, filled with sketches and notes on what he wanted to build and how to do it. Last Season he hadn’t been ambitious enough; Tubbo had started late thanks to living with Xisuma and then had focused on just having a base of his own that by the end of the season it had looked puny compared to the many buildings his friends/guardians had made.

He wasn’t making that mistake again. Tubbo had grand plans for this Season’s megabase, and he was going to make sure it blew everyone else out of the water.

Okay, maybe that was an over exaggeration. But Tommy had always said to aim high.

His heart twisted a bit, as it always did when he thought of his old friends. Back then, he’d known people his own age, and Wilbur and Techno had rarely held back against him when they’d interacted with him, whether through words or PvP.

He wondered how they were doing; it’d been almost two years since he’d last seen or heard from them. He wondered if they’d moved on.

He wondered if they knew he was still alive.

Tubbo shook his head, chasing the depressing thoughts out of his mind. He’d found himself thinking of his old friends less and less over the last year and half, as he’d settled into life in Hermitcraft and begun to heal from what had happened to him. Not to say he didn’t miss them, that he wasn’t missing something in his life, but, well. Even though he thought of them every once in a while, the numerous letters he’d written to Tommy, unable to be sent, had been left behind with Season 6, in a way of really starting anew.

Doc had explained it best. Life moved on, and sometimes it was best to just hold onto the old memories and work on making new ones.

He’d taken that advice to heart. Tubbo flipped open his notebook to one of the middle pages, holding it out and comparing his sketch to the open plains before him.

Yes. This biome would do quite nicely.

Season 7 was going to be something great.

[10-porgs-in-a-trenchcoat]

Foxiyo Week: Fearless

@foxiyoweek

[This entry takes place in a happily-ever-after AU, approx. five years after Palpatine is exposed and removed from power]

--

When he was a soldier, there was very little in his day-to-day duties that scared Fox. Fear of blaster fire, explosions, blood, violence, injury, and death had been conditioned out of his psyche during his training. As a result, he had considered himself fairly unflappable. But then he fell in love, and with that love came fear of heartbreak and fear of loss. And when he and Riyo learned they were expecting a baby, another fear came to him: that he would not be a good father. Then the day came when he held his newborn daughter for the first time, and his love for her greatly outweighed his fears.

At four years old, little Mira Chuchi was almost a perfect mix of her parents. She had her mother’s blue skin and crescent-shaped markings on her cheeks, and her father’s deep brown eyes and curly black hair. At first Fox worried that she would age quickly like he did, but by both human and Pantoran metrics she was aging at the same rate as any other natural-born child from either species. That brought him relief, since it meant she could have the normal happy childhood he never got.

“Tell me a bedtime story, Papa?” Mira asked once she was settled into bed, snuggled up under the covers. Fox sat perched on the edge of the bed next to her and she looked up at him with big bright eyes. She clutched a stuffed tooka plushie in her arms.

“I would love to,” Fox responded. He wracked his brain, trying to think of a story to tell. His mind settled on one event from his life, from before Mira was born, and he quickly thought of a way to translate it into something child-friendly.

“Once there was a soldier, one of the bravest soldiers in the entire Republic. He always did the right thing and helped people and stopped every bad guy he crossed. One day a giant monster came to Coruscant and terrorized the city. Rawwrrr!” He let out a roar and raised his hands into claws before diving in to lightly tickle at Mira. She giggled in response to being tickled.

“The monster was big and scary, and it tried to eat the people in the city. It tried to eat a little girl, but the brave soldier swooped in and saved her just in time! Carried her away and gave her back to her mom. And he saved many more people from being eaten too!”

“Did the soldier beat the monster?” Mira asked innocently.

Maybe it was best to lie a little bit, he thought, for entertainment’s sake. She didn’t need to know that in reality he had been hit in the face by the Zillo Beast’s claws.

“Yes, he did. All by himself. He shot a cable and tied it around the monster’s legs, and it fell onto the ground!” He slapped his hand onto the bed for dramatic effect. “And then … then he stunned the monster and loaded it onto a starship and flew it to a far away planet where it could live with others of its kind. Then the soldier returned to Coruscant and was rewarded for being the bravest and most fearless soldier in the entire galaxy.”

Mira narrowed her eyes in a skeptical scrutiny. “That’s not your best bedtime story, Papa.”

Fox stifled a laugh. She was just like her mother.

A laugh came from the doorway of the bedroom, and Fox turned to see Riyo standing there. She leaned against the doorway, dressed in her burgundy-and-gold skirt and jacket that she often wore to the Senate. She must have just gotten home from work, Fox thought.

“Momma!” Mira squeaked excitedly. She sat up and looked up at her mother with a toothy grin.

“Hello, my baby,” cooed Riyo as she walked over to the bed and knelt beside her daughter.

“Papa told me a bedtime story about the bravest soldier and a monster!”

“I heard,” said Riyo as she smoothed a hand over the top of Mira’s hair.

“Apparently it wasn’t my best work,” shrugged Fox.

Riyo chuckled. “Well since Mira’s going to sleep you’ll have plenty of time to think of a better one.” She turned her attention back to Mira. “If I’m home when you go to bed tomorrow I’ll tell you a bedtime story, how’s that?”

“Okay Momma,” said Mira. She lay back down, snuggled into her pillow, and Riyo drew the covers back over her to tuck her back in.

Riyo then leaned in to kiss Mira on the forehead. “Sleep tight, my baby. I love you.”

Fox then gave Mira little kisses on her cheek and forehead. “Love you, starlight. Good night.”

“Good night. Love you Momma, love you Papa.”

Fox then followed Riyo out of Mira’s room, turning off the lights and closing the door behind him. The two went to the living room; as Riyo plopped herself down on the couch and leaned back, Fox went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses. On his way back into the living room, he caught his reflection in a window by the dining table. He went back and forth on how he felt about the streaks of gray hair around his temples; it was a sign he was getting older, which shouldn’t have surprised him, yet he counted himself lucky that he was going gray rather than bald.

“You’re the bravest, most fearless soldier in the entire galaxy now?” Riyo asked with a smirk as Fox sat down next to her. She leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek.  

“Well, every kid wants to think their dad’s a hero,” answered Fox as he poured out the wine. “Besides, you should hear the stories Rex tells his kids!” He handed a glass to Riyo.

“How is Rex these days?”

“He’s doing great. He, his husband, and their kids will actually be on Coruscant next week, and I’m looking forward to Mira finally getting to meet her cousins.”

“That will be so wonderful, we haven’t seen them since their wedding.”

“I know,” said Fox wistfully, “and if we can also convince Bly and Secura to come around with their little one, it will really be a party.”

A brief beat of silence passed as they both took drinks.

“How was the Senate today? You’re home late.” Fox asked.

Riyo let out a deep, long sigh, then leaned her head on Fox’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and drew her in closer to him.

“It’s like pulling teeth. There are still so many warmongers and Palpatine loyalists. Padme and I are doing everything we can to get them to come across and support Chancellor Organa’s efforts to rebuild worlds devastated by the war, but we’re getting nowhere.”  

“Maybe I resigned too soon,” said Fox, “if I were still with the army I could inspire them to cooperate. Or I’ll call Wolffe and ask him to pay them a visit.”

“Tempting, but don’t worry about it. Diplomacy will win.”

“I know it will, you and Amidala are the best of the best.” Fox pressed his lips to Riyo’s forehead.

“I just wish things would work out, I feel like I barely get to see Mira anymore. I know Padme’s missing her babies too.”

“This won’t last forever, things will be normal again one day,” said Fox, trying to sound reassuring. “But we can figure out ways for you and Mira to spend more time together until then. She knows the work you do is important, but she misses you too.”

Riyo craned her head upward to brush her lips against Fox’s jaw. “You’re such a wonderful father. Even better husband.” She snuggled back into him and wrapped an arm around his torso.

Fox smirked and rubbed his hand up and down Riyo’s arm. “Careful, keep talking like that and I’ll get to work on making Mira a big sister,” he said mischievously.

Riyo sat up and looked him dead in the eye. “I was actually thinking about asking you if you wanted to try for another child soon. We’d have to talk more about it in depth, I just want to know if we’re on the same page first.”

“Definitely.” He grinned from ear to ear. The thought of having another baby made his heart swell with joy.

The two leaned towards each other, meeting with a kiss in the middle. They then remained in place, their foreheads resting against one another.

“I love you so much,” Riyo murmured. “I’m so glad I have you.”

“I’m luckier to have you. I love you from now until the end of time.”

Riyo smiled and reached up to cradle his face in her hand. She kissed him again.

--

Later that night as he drifted off to sleep, Fox thought about how the past five years had been beyond anything he ever anticipated. The war ended after Palpatine was discovered to be playing both sides for his own gain, and he was ousted from power and held prisoner by the Jedi. (The Jedi kept him locked up somewhere hidden and were annoyingly secretive about their reasons for it, and they managed to stonewall the Senate at every turn, but that was a headache for another day)

The Republic and the Separatists had a peace treaty and were cordially frosty towards one another in their joint efforts to rebuild worlds hardest hit by the war. Most importantly for him, the Senate voted to grant clones full legal personhood. He resigned his commission without a second thought and asked Riyo to marry him. Miracle upon miracles, she said yes.

He thought back to his days as a cadet on Kamino, how his younger self could never imagine a future where he was husband to a brilliant Senator and father to a wonderful little girl. None of his brothers likely anticipated a future where they could choose their own paths, but the ones who survived the war could. Rex had his husband, kids, and a farm on Alderaan; Bly had Secura and their child and a quiet life on Ryloth; Cody and Wolffe were still in the army but they had fulfillment and a newfound sense of purpose; and his brothers in the Coruscant Guard either transferred to private security work or went to trade schools and universities. He was happy for all of them and prouder than he could put into words. It was better than the best that he once hoped for them. It was what they all deserved.

As for Fox … he had everything he ever wanted since the day he realized he was in love with Riyo. He couldn’t ask for anything else.

[stardancerluv]

Roman’s Lady is his Luck

Part 2c

Summary: In passion and love you are together yet Roman’s voice sometimes is a stormy cloud.

Warning: Language, Voilence, Torture, blood mentioned, sex

The man backed up. “Roman, come on. We all know that the women, you usually have are not ladies.”

Right then, Roman’s friend Bernard who had greeted the two of you showed up.

“How was the game everyone?”

“Great.” Roman, looked at the two men who came with the man. “Take him away.” He pointed to the man who insulted your presence.

“Hey, wait a second.” The man said, panic evident in his voice.

The bald man nodded. “Take him to our place. Roman and I will handle him later.” The man, then looked at the two of you. “How is the room?” A wide, toothy smile spread across his face.

Roman’s mood, finally shifted. “It is very nice.” He smiled looking at you. “We love it.”

“Perfect.”

You went over to Roman’s side. “I love it. It’s fantastic.” You echoed.

“Fantastic.”

“Y/N, were right about to check out the Mob Museum.” He squeezed your hip.

“Yes, we were. I love all that old school gangster stuff.”

“Well, you two have fun. And Roman, I’ll keep him till your ready.”

Roman smiled, “We’ll be back around six. I’ll be down after that.”

*****

“Ooo look at these!” You pointed at the Bugsy Siegel’s. Sunglasses. They reminded you of a pair sometimes, Roman would wear. Only his were much better.

“Yeah. Mine are better.” He chuckled.

“You bet they are.” Looping you arm with his, you went on to look at the next exhibits. “And you are much better looking too.” You whispered in his ear.

He smirked. “I’ve got the best moll of them all.”

You flushed. “I want to be.”

******

“Come here baby.” He pulled you close, once you were back at the suite.

“Yes, Roman.” Your arms wrapped around him.

“I’m going to go and take of that man now. What are you going to be up to?”

“I’ll go shopping.”

“I’ll come find you.” He knew how much you loved to shop, there were some wonderful stores out here. He had to meet with one of his favorite tailors out here, he mused.

You smiled. “I’d like that.” You tilted your head to one side. “Roman, are you going to kill him?”

“I might.” He grew serious, never discussed such things with anyone. Not even, Victor. “Why?” He looked at you.

“You don’t have to kill everyone who insults me.”

“The stewardess, is still alive.”

“That’s good.” As you looked down, he knew you were not challenging him. He actually felt something. No one really ever cared about his actions. “I guess.” You looked at him finally. “I don’t want you to feel you have to kill everyone who is horrible to me.”

“But I enjoy it.” He smirked. He did. He enjoyed making people squirm and pay when they crossed him.

He could hear your concern. “I just don’t want to give Bat-brain or Gordon more of a reason to go after you.”

He gave you a warm smile. He drew a finger along your jaw. “Don’t worry baby. They’re small minnows in my pond, they don’t worry me.” You concern, and knowing his prowess, he wanted you to be assured.

“When you say it like that, I guess you’re right.”

“I am.” He nodded. “Now go and get some pretty things for yourself. And I will come find you.”

******

Bernard, handed him his mask before the car came to a stop.

“I forgot kept one here in case.” He smiled as he looked at it. He slid it on, then making sure his gloves fit well, he got out of the car. “Thank you,” He looked at Victor. “Sorry to interupt your game. I know this is a vacation for you too.”

“Not a problem, boss. This asshole has to be dealt with.”

With Victor behind him, he began making his way, to the abandoned factory. Distantly, he wondered what store you were shopping at.

*****

A thrill went through you. The more you thought about it, you actually enjoyed what a powerful person in Gotham he was, and that he loved you made even more exciting.

Wandering down by the shops, you stopped and looked at the three statues. Looking past one of them you spotted one of your favorite stores. You had thought it was only in Gotham, happily you were wrong and you made your way over to it.

******

He walked in and saw the man tied up and gagged. Under the mask, his lips curled into a smile. He flinched as he neared.

“Do you know why you are here?” He asked as he reached into his pocket and took out one of his knives.

******

Once in the boutique, you went over to a rack of colorful and pretty dresses. Seeing a few in your size, you grabbed them to try one.

You also spotted a few blouses and skirts. You were in heaven. Soon, the dressing room was filled with color and several types of fabrics.

She settled on a few items before moving among several other boutiques, there was a wake of color fabrics in her wake.

*****

The man sputtered and gasped and begged. “Please, I thought I was just being honest.”

He coughed and screamed.

Roman, enjoyed seeing him squirm. “Well, you shouldn’t insult a man’s girl. It doesn’t matter who she is.”

“I...I...”

“You fucking what? You’re beginning to bore me.”

“I promise not too do it again.” He man, whimpered.

“Victor, hold this asshole down will you?” He saw an instense fear light his eyes as color continued to drain from his face. It made Roman happy. He grabbed the man by his jaw. “Oh do you, stick out your fucking tongue.”

******

Finally, you spotted a guilty pleasure. Your favorite lingerie store. Well, to be honest it was because, the first time Roman was away he bought you the most beautiful pieces from it when he bad business in London.

Maybe you could find something to wear under that dress he surprised you with.

Perhaps, something silky to go under the black silky dress. Or perhaps something with lace. So many wonderful items to pick from.

*****

Blood poured from the man’s tongue, slipping his mask off he leaned in close. “Now you will know not to let your tongue wag about another man’s girl.”

“Yes.” The man sputtered.

******

You gasped as you walked out of the dressing room and saw Roman, leaning there. “Roman!” You said excitedly and went over to him.

He smiled and held you close. “Having, fun baby?”

“Yes. I was just finishing up.” You looked around a little shy. “Would you like me to put on a little fashion show for you?” Excitement, over the idea, curled in your stomach.

He smirked. “I’d like that.”

******

*******

Finding, your mp3 player you cued up some music. You were a little shy at first but then you got into it.

As he lounged there with his shirt jacket off, excitement built in you.

A fire began to build in his eyes. “You are beautiful.” His voice was raspy. You could feel very word. They excited you.

*****

Damn, watching your curves under all those items of clothing was absolutely amazing. His heart beat with the music.

His lips curled in his excitement as he watched you. The music added to it but it was all you.

When you were finally in a little teddy. He beckoned to you. “Come here baby.”

He pulled you onto his lap. His hand slipped under the teddy to rest on your hips. He gave them a squeeze.

“I have something to tell you.”

“Yes.” You reached up and ran your fingers through your hair.

“I listened to you today.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I didn’t kill him. But he will remember to not ever act like that again.”

“Oh, Roman I don’t know what to say.” You were shocked. You’d never thought he’d listen. As it was, you were terrified about saying something earlier. It really had not been your place. But that he listened to you, honestly touched your heart.

“You were right. Sometimes a punishment can be more fun.” He smirked. “You can kiss me.”

As your small hand laid on his cheek, he closed his eyes for a moment as he did he then felt your lips. He repressed the sound that came frlm

He moved fast making you gasp and pulling a soft sound from you as he now was over you.

“I can’t wait. I want you.”

“I’m yours.”

He made quick moves and opening his slacks, he easily took himself out. “Oh, that is my girl.” When he saw you had not slipped on any panties.

Bracing himself on the armrest, he entered you. A moan poured from his lips which mingled with yours.

He loved the feel of your legs as they wrapped around his waist almost as much as being deep with you.

“Baby.” He breathed, as your fingers were deep in his hair.

*****

Your teddy rested on your hips as you curled up to him on the sofa. You pressed a kiss on his cheek. Delighting, in the light touch of scruff.

“I’m glad you enjoyed my little show.”

He turned his head to smile at you, “I did. I could barely control myself.”

You flushed and hid your face into his shoulder.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @rentskenobi @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu

[diary-of-deadweight]

Friendship anniversary.

Pairing: Tenya Iida x reader

Summary: what started out as a idea pitched at 3am turned tradition, Iida is planning something big with the help of Deku and Uraraka.

Iida paced within the comfort of his own room, arms behind his back as he racked his brain of what to get you for friendship anniversary, which was slowly creeping nearer the longer he spent a majority of the free time pacing with no dice. It was a beyond infuriating task as your someone who values the thought put into a gift rather then the price tag; hell he could give you a notebook and you would love it as if you were gifted a car instead. Iida wanted to give you something you’d love even if the price is above the budget you agreed on way back then.

So he visited the local jewellery store at the weekend and saw something he’d think you would absolutely love as it reminded him of your beauty and how much it has blossomed over your years of friendship, not just physically but personality wise too, he bought it and kept it in his desk since then but for Iida one gift wasn’t enough as you always managed to get him two gifts he absolutely loved which is why he was currently pacing in his room.

He was trying to come up with another gift he’d knew you would like.

sad thing was that he didn’t know what to get you as he already bought you the latest movies and the latest manga of your favourite anime; one punchman which was a true tale about a bald hero and his immense strength, speed and agility along side his dream of meeting a strong enough opponent who can toss him around a bit before knocking them around abut himself with a single punch, for your birthday and previous friendship anniversaries that he was left to his own devices this time round.

A knock upon the door pulled him from out of his brainstorming session, striding over to the door to see who was in need of his assistance during this dire time. “Hey Iida.” The class rep was greeted by his dear friends, Izuku and Uraraka, “do you wanna head to the mall with us?” The Brunette asked. “I’m sorry but I’m currrntly facing a task that requires my full attention right now, so I’m gonna have to decline your offer.” Iida informed them before closing the door on them, ready to get back to his scheduled brainstorming only to find his friends sat upon his bed made him do a double take between the door and them in befuddlement that went unnoticed by the two. “What’s troubling you Iida, we are your friends and friends help each other,” Ochaco nodded her head vigorously at Midoriya’s statement, “so we shall tackle this issue together.”

Iida sighed, shaking his head in disbelief at his friends persistence of wanting to aid him and decided that three heads were ultimately better then one and he was in desperate need of an idea so what could go wrong? “It’s mine and (y/n)’s frienship anniversary coming up and I’m struggling to think of another gift to give them.” He day himself on the other side of Midoriya, leaning his back against the cold wall. “So what is the first gift you got them?” Ochaco tilted her head to the side, her bob haircut followed suit with her moment.

“An Swarovski crystal necklace.”

Izuku and Ochaco gasped in surprise, sharing a look before looking back at Iida, “Doesn’t (y/n) hate expensive gifts because a Swarovski Crystal isn’t cheap.”

“I know, I thought that if I tell them that it reminded me of how beautiful and unique our friendship is that they wanted to preserve it forever.” Iida explained, blushing slightly when Uraraka cooed at how cute it all was that the bluenette must’ve thought she misinterpreted it as something albeit romantic but waved it off as accidental. “Why don’t you show them how much they mean to you.” Izuku suggested with a shrug, Iida thought about it and sure enough took interest in the idea, “what do you mean by that Midoriya?”

“I mean that you should create a slide by slide presentation on all the great moments you’ve had together.” The curly emerald haired male expanded upon his idea, “add some videos if you have any.” Ochaco added for the hell of it, already excited to see the finished product that they both free balled ideas that Iida either shot down due to being unrealistic to pull off or liked as it was something that could be easily accomplished.

This went on well into the afternoon and they decided that the plan was ready to go and went down to celebrate with Katsuki’s cooking as they dragged their limbs that felt like they were 100 pounds heavier with each step they took.

Timeskip

When the day finally arrived Iida was practically sweating bullets and his nervousness kicked into overdrive as he couldn’t seem to hold the USB without his hand violently shaking that he decided to place it within the safety in his pocket along side the necklace so he didn’t loose and or drop it anytime soon. He looked up at the clock upon the wall, sapphire gaze setting upon the illumonesent scarlet numbers which flashed repeatedly:

‘8:30am’

It wouldn’t be long until you would wake up and head down to the common room for breakfast and your morning cup of tea/coffee, you were a grumpy little shit without it as many of the class found out first hand. So the tall male setted off out the door and down to the common room like a bolt of lightning and began setting up everything whilst leaving his friends Uraraka and Midoriya to inform the rest of his classmates why most of the common room will be sectioned off into a blanket fort, they insisted in helping him set up to which he declined but appreciated their offer as this day was primarily for you and him specifically after a 3am conversation.

So he was thankful that no one was down in the common room as a majority of them were heavy sleepers and wouldn’t get up until like 10 am whilst people like Katsuki and Kirishima were early worms and would get up the millisecond the sun rose and do some morning training which gave Iida the chance to litter the floor with wisteria petals, whip out a old theatre screen from the closets (I don’t know the fucking name to them ok.) a little projector that he could connect to the computer and did a little test run beofre giving the room a satifying nod just as a ‘ping’ noise came from his phone.

It was a text from Midoriya.

‘Hey Iida are you ready cuz (y/n) is heading towards the staircase right now, Uraraka tried to stall them a little to give you extra time but it failed badly.’

Iida smiled at how kind his friends are to stall time for him, he responded back with.

‘Thank you Midoriya I’m already set up with relatively ease but I appreciate the help.’

After he pocketed his phone a voice from the stair case he knew almost instantly.

“Oh my god...Iida,” he turns around to you with a softened look, “is this all for our special day?” He wordlessly nods, “it’s beautiful.” He watched your wide eyed expression as they wander around the decorated section as if you were walking through the snow covered streets of Musutafu as you came from a *cough* fictional *cough* country where snow is rare; unable to speak which gave Iida mixed emotions as half of him believed it was out of disgust while the other half believed that it was out of shock and amazement at his efforts of making today the best friend’s anniversary in recent memory, something he hope you both remember years from now.

He wandered over to you, resting a hand upon your shoulder that made you jump slightly, you turned to him with an almost unreadable expression, making IIda’s worry increased by a fraction.

“(Y/n), do you like it?”

“Like it? Like it? Iida I love it!” You exploded with joy as you hugged the male as tightly that he swore he couldn’t feel his lower half beofre finally deciding that it was time to show you the gifts so he tapped you on the shoulder to signify for you to release him, which you did as you watched him as he made his way over to the computer, pressing play as a video began playing from the projector that began with some emotional music whilst pictures of you and Iida flashed before your eyes while every once in a while bold lettering would spread saying the sweetest shit like:

‘Under a cherry blossom tree three years ago stood a person I had no idea would later become my best friend. Someone I couldn’t possibly live without or be away from for an extensive period of time without worrying about their well being but I know that they know I only mean well when I do so.

‘But as of this year, 2020, I had troubles trying to think of what to get them as I would spoil them rotten under the radar which’ll most definitely earn me a scolding later today. If it wasn’t for Izuku and Uraraka for giving me this idea during my time of stress, I don’t know what I would’ve done.’

Before another barrage of photos and videos of you both either inside or outside the academy, being either falsely stern at each other and laughing about it seconds after or just pulling funny faces at the camera.

‘So I decided to take their idea and make a presentation on how much (y/n) (l/n)’s frienship means to me so I’m going to summarise it on a sentence before the next section of pictures cuts in.’

You chuckled at this.

‘(Y/n)’s friendship means everything to me and I would never trade it for anything.’

So as the last load of pictures and or videos came to an end one last paragraph showed itself over an uncomfortably zoomed in picture of your face such drew a hysterical laugh from your lips, a sweet release from all the crying you’ve been doing through out it all as nostalgia swept you off your feet and carried you down memeory lane of each individual picture and or video. You truly didn’t know where you’d be without having this sapphire eyed male beside you...you truly didn’t.

‘(Y/n). Your friendship was and always will be the greatest thing I’ve ever experienced and I hope that even well into adulthood we still uphold this tradition for as long as we can, I never wish to loose the unique relationship we’ve built overtime due to the lack of communication, it’s something I’d be stupid to give up, so I hope you enjoy the next gift that, honestly costed a pretty penny but was most defiantly worth it as it symbols out frienship and how it’s so unique it had to be crystallised. Happy friend anniversary (y/n), here’s to many more’

- Tenya Iida.

Tenya then knelt next to you as he hands you a small box, gesturing you to open it with a nod of his head as he wiped away the tears that had gathered within his eyes over the presentation and the waves of nostalgia that wished over him and how even through the worst of days you both stuck together like gorilla glue.

You opened the beautifully presented box to see this:

“A Swarovski Crystal?!” You exclaimed as you dangled the necklace in front of your blurry eyes as you admired hoe it glistened under the light, “Tenya Iida, you beautiful bastard help me get this on please.” You sniffled as you unclasped the necklace, handing it to Iida who sat himself behind you, shifting hair out of the way as he clasped the necklace as you felt the center price rest upon the middle of your chest as you gazed down at it in awe, wiping away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks like a waterfall as you were riddlers with emotions that you just thought ‘fuck it’ and tackled Tenya into a hug as you cried into him; saying how you didn’t deserve such a friend as loyal as him and thanked him for being born, how blessed you were to have him in your life which made Iida collapse into a heap of tears himself, while unknownst to you, the rest of your class stood on the stair way, smiling at your sweet moment before evacuating the area to give you both some privacy.

Later down the line you and Iida may or may not have gotten married later on in life and would be spending your third anniversary underneath a familiar cherry blossom tree, the same exact one where you first met all those years back.

[thefreakymunson]

"Where the hell are they?"

The question was rhetorical. Anyone who knew Jon Moxley, knew that he was rarely on time. Pair that with Seth and Roman, who were always ten minutes early, and you've got yourself three people who can never link up on schedule. However, when Roman spoke to Jon on the phone, he made them promise they wouldn't leave before Jon arrived. Jon had someone he wanted them to meet.

Ever since Jon had left, things had been different, which was expected. The trio had become a pair, and while Roman and Seth missed him greatly, they knew he wasn't happy in WWE. They wished him well, and they still hung out when their busy schedules allowed. This time, they hadn't seen each other in three months. So the reunion was going to be fun. They had planned a day at their favorite bar in Peoria, Mack's. The three of them had discovered this bar after a rough episode of Raw in 2016, when they all three desperately needed a beer.

"There," Roman pointed to the door that had opened. Jon was pulling his sunglasses off and tucking them in his shirt while he spoke to someone they couldn't see, "Over here!"

Roman's loud voice caught Jon's attention and Roman and Seth stood up. When Jon got closer, they could see a shorter man walking behind him, holding onto his hand tightly. They all hugged Jon, Roman went to ruffle his hair, but was suddenly stopped when he realized how short his hair was now.

"Ah man, where's your hair?" Roman joked, "You're basically bald now!"

"Too long, had to cut it off." Jon shrugged and turned to the unnamed guest, "This is Darby...he's my boyfriend, Darbs....this is Seth and Roman."

"Yeah, from WWE." Darby nodded, "Nice to meet you two."

The three shook hands and Roman and Seth motioned for them to come sit down, which they gladly did. Darby's feet were killing him. They sat across the booth from one another, Seth and Roman on one side, while Darby and Jon took to the other side. The waitress came over and handed them their menu's and took their drink orders, all four men ordering beer.

"I'm starving," Darby said as he looked down at the menu. He was nervous, meeting these two guys from Jon's past that he talked about a lot. Jon could sense his nerves, and under the table, placed a comforting hand on the inside of his thigh, slightly squeezing to comfort him.

"Yeah. We missed breakfast." Jon sighed as he looked over at the two men, "So...whats up? How have you two been?"

"Really good, actually." Roman nodded, "It's been different since you left, but we're okay. They're pushing Seth as a god..."

"We all know he was perfectly fine with that gimmick," Jon smirked as he glanced over at Seth, "A walking god complex, you are."

Seth glared at him, and kicked his foot lightly under the table, but shot back with "Well...they liked what they seen, I guess."

Darby sat in the corner and watched the three of them interacting, and couldn't help but feel the small amount of jealousy pitting in his stomach. It was stupid, and he knew that. But Jon was one of the best things that had happened to him. The fact they were sitting across from his former teammates and lovers was enough to make anyone antsy. Roman was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. He had a hulking figure, and hair that was surely made of pure silk. Seth was bearded and rugged, and while they had similar styles, Darby knew he was probably no match against Seth. His self confidence diminshed a bit more.

They had a long talk before they came to Mack's. Jon talked about how he had missed the two men, but how happy he was with Darby now, and how Darby shouldn't be jealous of envious of them. They were Jon's past. But they were a past that Jon consistently talked about. He knew the three of them were close. But goddamnit, he wanted that with Jon, too.

The trio had split with the promise of keeping in touch and remaining friendly. However, that didn't sit too well with Darby. In his opinion, past relationships should have stayed in the past. He wanted to do what he could to support his boyfriend though, and if meeting up with Roman and Seth helped him cope with the big changes that he made, then he would meet with them as well. He was surprised when Jon invited him along, telling Darby he wanted to show him off. Darby never considered himself much to be shown. But it eased his trust issues. At least he wouldn't be left in the dark.

"What are you gonna eat?" Jon looked over at Darby, seeing him chewing on his painted black nails. It was a habbit Darby was trying to quit, so he reached up and tangled their fingers together, pulling his hand down to his lap, making Darby blush lightly, "I'm thinking chicken."

"A burger, more than likely." Darby said softly as he leaned against Jon's shoulder and looked over at the two men across from them who were studying their menu's.

"You okay?" Moxley whispered into his ear.

Darby nodded his head and looked up into Jon's blue eyes, seeing the concern. Jon knew how he felt, but he also knew how grateful he was to be included in this. He studied Jon's eyes, seeing the concern for his well being and his mental state. Jon knew about Darby's past relationship, which ended in his heart being shattered after catching his ex boyfriend cheating on him. He wanted nothing more than to prove to Darby that he wouldn't hurt him. That he loved him deeply.

Moxley squeezed his hand comfortingly as he went back to looking over his menu. Soon the waitress arrived to take their order. They ate in comfortable silence, talking amongst themsevles, before Roman adverted his attention to Darby.

"So...I seen you two's match last week." Roman cleared his throat, "When you came out with Jon's face on yours...that was genius."

"That was freaky," Jon laughed, gently elbowing Darby in the side.

"My favorite scare tactic," Darby chuckled, "Did you see his face when he seen it?"

"Yeah, Moxley didn't know what to do. He's a scaredy cat." Roman teased.

"I am not," Jon said with a mouth full of food, "I just wasn't expecting it."

"He won't watch a horror movie with me, either." Darby shook his head, "Looks like a big ole tough guy, but is really a big ole softy."

"Oh shut up," Jon waved his hand dissmissively, "I'm not some psycho that enjoys being scared."

They fell back into eating and occasionally chatting, and Roman noticed the glances and looks Jon and Darby were exchanging. It was cute, and he was glad Jon had found someone to be with. While he desperately missed and loved Jon, he wanted nothing but the best for the man in life. He's always heard, that if you loved something or someone, to set it free. And Jon was finally free in life to do and conquer what he truly wanted in life, which was to be recognized.

They all stayed until late in the afternoon, and Darby found himself immersed in their conversation. It became clear to him soon that Jon had genuinely put their relationship in the past. He caught Jon staring at him a few times, with such a look of love and adoration. It made that warm feeling swell within him. He had to realize that Jon genuinely loved him.

Soon, the bar announced it would be closing. They paid their bill and split the tab four ways, and said their goodbyes. Seth and Roman walked the opposite way of Jon and Darby, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

Darby held Jon's larger hand with both of his as they walked and he noticed that was slightly buzzed, having drank almost six beers. Jon had a goofy grin plastered on his face as they walked.

"What are you so smiley about?" Darby asked, laying his head on Jons shoulder.

"I just had one of the best days of my life in awhile. I missed them, ya know? But I got to spend time with them and you. It was fun." Jon shrugged, "Plus...I'm a little drunk."

Darby laughed and they walked back in silence to their hotel room. Once they were inside, Jon took his shoes and pants off while Darby went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he walked out of the bathroom, he found Jon lounding on the bed in his boxers, flipping through the television channels. Darby stripped down to his boxers himself, and crawled in bed beside of him, laying his head on Jon's broad chest. He idly drew hearts through the patch of chest hair and looked up at him, sighing softly, "I gotta admit...I was jealous."

"Jealous?" Jon glanced down at him, "Why?"

"I mean, before we got there. It's not every day that you go with your boyfriend to have dinner with his ex boyfriends." Darby quickly licked his lips, "But...I understand now. The three of you...your friends. I always thought that when relationships ended....they always had to end badly. It isn't that way with the three of you, is it?"

"No," Jon shook his head, "I had fun with them. But a relationship with two other people...it wasn't too much for me, ya know? I loved them both...but I wanted something more personal. I wanted then what I have with you now."

Darby stretched up and cupped Jon's stubbly cheek, and kissed his him, letting his lips linger ontop of Jon's for a few seconds longer, before he pulled back and shook his head, "I didn't think it was possible, but I think I love you even more after today."

"Good," Jon winked at him, "Cause I fall in love with you more every day."

[toohardtoforgetcth]

Too Hard To Forget

Chapter One

Warnings: swearing, angst, moody Cal cause who doesn’t love that, hospital setting

3,923 words

A/N: this is the first chapter of my musician!Cal series! there is a prologue too but it’s optional as it could potentially be triggering for some. it’s my first piece of writing i’ve ever posted so feedback is appreciated! hope you guys enjoy :)

Parker Daniels could barely keep her eyes open. She was at the tail end of her night shift, just finishing up her rounds before she called it a night and crawled into her bed. She didn’t usually work nights, but a colleague called in sick and she was the only one available to cover, so her typical ten-hour shift turned into a draining 16 hours. To say she was brutally exhausted was an understatement.

“Parker, honey,” Diane, the night shift office administrator, sounded softly. “You look beat. We’ve got things covered here. Go home and get some rest.”

Parker shook her head. “I’m almost done. Just have to give Mrs. Jordan her meds.”

“Hannah just got here, I’ll have her do it,” she insisted. “Go home, dear. You need sleep.”

Parker flashed her a grateful, but tired, smile. “Thanks, Diane. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

She disappeared into the staff room to gather her things and exited through the back door of the building into the staff parking lot. The warm July air ruffled her hair as she dug through her bag for her car keys, the neon red lights from the emergency sign on the hospital connected to Westhill Retirement Home illuminating her face in the darkness. Parker unlocked the door of her black Honda Civic, dropping in and letting her head fall back on the headrest. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, then started the engine, grateful for the short ten-minute drive back to her apartment.

As soon as she opened the door, her grey tabby, Loki, meowed incessantly at her feet.

“Hi, handsome,” she whispered, crouching down and scratching his head. “Sorry I was gone so long.”

He trotted over to his food dish and sat, waiting for her. Parker filled his dish, dropped her bag on the kitchen counter, and shuffled down the hall to her bedroom. Thankful that she didn’t have to work in the morning, she washed her face, changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed. She was fast asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

• • • • • •

“I just sold out of my last copy yesterday, but we should be getting more tomorrow. I can set one aside for you if you like,” Calum offered begrudgingly.

Sometimes—actually, quite often, Calum wondered why on earth he had a job in customer service. His love of music drew him to Rudy’s as a teen, but now, in his mid-twenties, his cynical and less-than-sunny disposition made him question what he was still doing here. When he was a kid, he would spend hours sifting through the vinyl albums, fooling around with the instruments, and saving up his allowance for his first guitar and a new CD every time he could afford one. He gladly accepted when Rudy offered him a job, but it was more for the staff discount than anything—Calum really hated dealing with people. He had a short temper, and this particular customer was testing what little patience he had left. He’d been browsing around the store for the last half an hour, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem with this guy was that he was asking Calum stupid questions every time he tried to get back to work, like the prices and aisle location of every single record he was interested in, even though both were clearly labeled on signs above the shelves. Calum was getting annoyed—he had shit to do.

“Can you check in the back? You must have more somewhere,” the man asked, gesturing to the stock room behind Calum.

“Listen, buddy, I don’t have any more, in the back or otherwise. If you don’t want me to put one on hold, then leave and let me get back to work,” he snapped impatiently.

The man’s jaw dropped, shocked at Calum’s blatant dismissal. Shaking his head, the man left the store, muttering under his breath about disrespectful kids. Calum was hardly a kid, but he couldn’t be bothered to argue. He didn’t give two shits what anyone thought of him.

He was about to head back to the last aisle he had attempted to do inventory on, when Tom, Calum’s boss, cleared his throat. Calum whipped around, facing the old man.

“Calum, my office, please.”

Calum rolled his brown eyes, following the short, bald man into the stock room and then into the little utility closet that doubled as a makeshift office for the owner of the store. Rudy passed away earlier this year, and his jackass of a brother took over ownership of the shop. Rudy was much nicer, and although Calum didn’t particularly like much of anyone, he most definitely preferred Rudy over Tom. He wasn’t sure Tom even liked music. He gestured for Calum to sit in the chair opposite his desk as he sat in the armchair behind it.

“Calum,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his beady eyes. “If you don’t stop scaring away my customers, I’m going to have to let you go. You need to get your attitude in check.”

“My attitude? Dude has been hounding me for the last 30 minutes, Tom. I haven’t been able to get anything done. You want your customers inhibiting the productivity of your staff?” he replied sarcastically.

Tom shot Calum a disapproving look. “I mean it, kid. This is your final warning. My brother may have let you get away with murder, but I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour,” he said sternly with a wave of his hand, dismissing Calum.

• • • • • •

After cashing out his last customer just after eight, Calum shut off the lights in the store, setting the alarm and locking the front door behind him. He pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of his leather jacket, lighting it and taking a long drag. He inhaled deeply, feeling the nicotine drift down his throat and into his lungs. Calum knew it was a bad habit. Gram hated it. But it was a habit he couldn’t seem to kick, no matter how many times he tried for her. It calmed him, relaxed him. And after today, he needed it. He stepped out into the cool night air, one hand in his pocket as he walked, the other holding his cigarette. He finished just before he reached the front of a one-story brick building, stubbing it out under his boot as he stepped through the sliding doors.

Calum nodded his head at the receptionist, having walked these halls many times before. He turned left into the last room at the end of the hall, the permanent scowl on his face replaced with a genuine smile at the sight of the only woman in this world he loved.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he grinned, kicking off his boots and sliding onto the bed beside her. “How was your day?”

The old woman smiled fondly at her grandson, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “My day was just fine, dear. Got up nice and early, ran a marathon, found a cure for cancer, you know. Just small stuff,” she winked.

Calum chuckled, folding his hands behind his head. “Impressive. Wish my days were as productive as yours.”

Gram wrinkled her nose, catching a whiff of smoke from the cigarette Calum had just put out. “Oh, Calum. When are you going to quit that awful habit of yours?” she chided. “You’re going to land yourself in this hospital bed right next to me if you keep it up.”

“I can think of worse places to be,” he shrugged, resting his head on her shoulder.

• • • • • •

Just after nine, halfway through their second episode of Golden Girls, a woman dressed in scrubs knocked on the door to Gram’s room. Calum glanced up, shifting slightly on the bed to allow the nurse some space to look her over. She checked her vitals, then handed Gram a dixie cup with an assortment of pills, along with a second cup of water to wash them down. When she was finished, the nurse tossed the cups into the trash can beside her bed. Calum noticed Gram’s eyelids fluttering.

“Are you getting tired?”

Gram gave him a lazy smile in response.

Calum chuckled. He slipped off the bed, tugging on his boots and jacket. “Get some rest. I’ll see you Tuesday, yeah?” He planted a kiss on Gram’s forehead. “Love you, pretty lady.”

“I love you too, dear,” Gram smiled as he disappeared from view.

» » » » » »

Parker slept in late on Monday morning, a luxury she was rarely afforded. She woke up feeling rested and ready to enjoy her day off, which consisted of making breakfast, going for a run and cleaning her apartment. Around one, she stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel before checking her phone. She had a text waiting from her best friend, Jenna:

Yo bitch, meet me at Enzo’s. New café on Fifth. Lunch. You have half an hour. ;)

Parker laughed to herself. Jenna was charismatic and about as blunt and upfront as they came. She had a give-no-fucks attitude, and she was also one of the most genuine people Parker had ever known. They’d been friends since college, and no one in this world knew her like Jenna.

• • • • • •

“Hi, babe,” Jenna pulled her into a tight hug. “How’s life? How’s work? It’s been a long time.”

Parker laughed, rolling her grey eyes. “I saw you on Friday.”

“I know, I know. But it feels like ages.”

It was a cool, breezy day for the middle of July, so they opted for a table on the patio to enjoy one of the milder summer days. The girls caught up over nachos and a pitcher of beer. Parker was not, nor had she ever been, one of those people that felt satisfied after eating a salad. She was happy to work out regularly if it meant she got to continue eating the greasy, carb-loaded foods she loved. They chatted about work and family and how Jenna was struggling to choose between the three boys she’d been talking to. She was still rambling on when Parker became distracted by a tall, dark and handsome stranger, walking in their direction on the other side of the street. He was the textbook definition of a bad boy—dressed head to toe in black, complete with a leather jacket, a cigarette between his lips.

Jenna noticed Parker’s distracted expression, following her gaze to the dark-haired man.

“Uh-uh, no way,” Jenna shook her head. “Honey, that boy’s middle name is trouble.”

Parker’s grey eyes drifted from the stranger back to her friend, tilting her head questioningly. “Do you know him?”

“Of course not,” Jenna furrowed her brows. “But look at him. He reeks of heartbreak and bad decisions.”

Parker glanced across the street again, but the stranger had already disappeared. The girls paid their bill, left the café, and Parker never gave him another thought.

» » » » » »

Calum didn’t start work until noon on Tuesday so around nine, he decided to bring breakfast for Gram—coffee and donuts from her favourite bakery downtown.

He entered her room holding up the bag of donuts, and Gram’s face lit up. “Have I ever told you that you’re my favourite grandson?” she beamed, taking the bag from his hands.

“I’m your only grandson,” Calum rolled his eyes.

He sat on the bed and handed Gram her coffee. Around 11, a nurse peeked her head in the doorway. “Morning, Grace!” she chirped brightly.

“Oh, come in, Parker, dear,” Grace motioned with a wave of her hand. “This is my grandson, Calum,” she added, taking notice of Parker gazing at the man sitting next to her on the bed.

He was handsome. No, that didn’t even begin to cover it. He was gorgeous. He looked oddly familiar to her, though Parker had no idea where she knew him from. She supposed she could ask, but he didn’t look to be in a chatty mood. In fact, he didn’t look to be all that approachable at all. Parker took in the outfit he was wearing—black shirt, black jeans, black boots—and then her eyes drifted to the chair beside the bed. Laying on the arm was a leather jacket, and Parker noticed the edge of a pack of cigarettes in one of the pockets. That’s when it occurred to her—he was the stranger from the street outside the café. Calum glanced up and said nothing as he gave Parker a curt nod.

Grace elbowed him in the side. He shot her a look, then he stood, shrugging his jacket on over his broad shoulders.

“I gotta get to work, but I’ll stop by after, yeah?” He bent down and kissed Gram on the cheek. He brushed by Parker a little too forcefully without so much as another glance before he disappeared down the hallway.

Grace wore an apologetic look when Parker’s eyes finally found hers. “Don’t mind my Calum, he’s—” she paused for a moment, contemplating her words. “Well, he’s a little rough around the edges is all.”

Parker forced a smile. “He seems nice,” she lied. He didn’t seem nice at all.

Grace looked at her knowingly. “I may be old, dear, but I’m not dumb,” she chuckled. “I know he’s not the most pleasant, but he’s good to me, and that’s more than I can ask for.”

“I’m sure he’s lovely, Grace,” Parker assured her as she set Grace’s medications on the table beside her bed.

» » » » » »

Parker saw Calum several more times throughout the rest of the week. Although he clearly lacked basic social skills, noted in the way he gave Parker the cold shoulder every time she saw him, it was obvious how much he cared for Grace. Parker only ever saw him smile when he was with her. He was there twice a day almost every day—sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for hours. Grace took every opportunity she could to tell Parker that he wasn’t all bad. She wasn’t convinced, but that didn’t stop her from trying to be friendly towards him, even when he ignored every attempt she made. She even talked herself into believing he was having an off day when he bumped into her in the hallway. He knocked everything out of her hands, including her coffee cup which spilled all over the floor. He said nothing—just continued walking like nothing had happened. People have bad days, she thought. But she was starting to think maybe Calum was just an asshole.

» » » » » »

Parker and Jenna were walking downtown, window shopping and wasting time in the sunshine on Saturday afternoon. Parker stopped outside one of the shops, grabbing Jenna’s hand and dragging her in. “I wanna get the new All Time Low album,” she explained upon seeing Jenna’s confused expression.

“Why don’t you just listen to it on Spotify like a normal person?” Jenna muttered. Why anyone would pay for music you could get for free was beyond her, but Parker just rolled her eyes and tugged her inside.

She browsed through the aisles until she found what she was looking for, bringing it up to the front desk with Jenna trailing behind her. Parker set it on the counter, waiting for the man standing behind it to finish what he was doing so she could pay. Parker found herself admiring him from the back, even though she couldn’t see his face. He had tattoos snaking up his hands and arms, disappearing under the sleeves of a faded black t-shirt. The shirt hugged his biceps tightly and he had a wide, muscular frame that was obvious even under his shirt. She didn’t realize who it was until he turned his head to the side.

Calum.

Parker blushed, embarrassed at herself for checking him out. She didn’t even know he had tattoos. She had never seen him without his signature leather jacket, which struck her as odd, since it was the middle of summer, and who wears a leather jacket in the summer?

Calum reached out, sliding the CD on the counter towards him, scanning the barcode without looking up.

She smiled her most genuine smile. “Hey!” she greeted brightly.

His brown eyes finally flicked up to meet hers, not a single spark of warmth in them. He took the debit machine out of its holder and set it on the counter in front of her without a word, looking utterly bored.

Parker frowned. She was becoming a little bothered by his blatant disregard for her. Did he not recognize her? She tapped her card on the machine, waiting until the approved message flashed on the screen before picking up the CD. She glanced up at Calum again, but he wasn’t looking at her. In fact, it seemed like he was intentionally avoiding her gaze. “Right. Well, see you around, I guess.”

Jenna waited until they were out of the store before she questioned Parker. “Was that—do you know that guy?”

Parker nodded.

“How? And more importantly, what the hell was that about?” Jenna demanded.

“I have no idea,” Parker admitted truthfully. “I met him the other day at work,” she explained. “He’s the grandson of one of my patients. Actually, I’ve bumped into him a couple times this week. But he obviously doesn’t remember me,” she muttered.

“Or,” Jenna countered, “he’s just a big ol’ douche with a stick up his ass.”

“Yeah, he’s a ray of sunshine, isn’t he?” Parker laughed.

“Hot as hell, though. I’ll give him that,” Jenna mused.

• • • • • •

Calum finished work late on Saturday night, after Tom demanded he finish the inventory that he couldn’t be bothered to do himself. Calum was already on thin ice with Tom, so in the interest of keeping his job, he kept his mouth shut and stayed. Calum hated most aspects of his job, but inventory wasn’t so bad. He closed the store at six and put a Radiohead album on the record player while he worked. He might have finished an hour earlier, had he not been distracted by thoughts of a grey-eyed girl with a pretty smile. He replayed today’s encounter back in his head. Parker was the last person he expected to walk into the store that afternoon. He was taken by surprise, even more so when she walked up to the counter with one of his own favourite albums. He had been rude to her—on several occasions—he knew, but for some reason he couldn’t explain, she rubbed him the wrong way. But Calum had to admit, Parker was beautiful. There was something about her eyes—steel grey with flecks of blue, and her brighter-than-the-sun attitude that never seemed to falter. Calum briefly wondered how much it would take to make her angry. She kept popping into his head at the most inconvenient times, and it pissed him off.

» » » » » »

Parker was sitting behind the reception desk, eyes glancing up at the sound of the front door opening. Her heart stopped momentarily when Calum walked in. She cast her eyes down quickly, avoiding eye contact. He said nothing to her nor to the other two women sitting behind the desk next to Parker, his path clearly set for Grace’s room at the end of the hall.

Parker had seen Calum at Westhill two more times since their meeting at the record store, and there was no way that Calum hadn’t recognized her—she deduced that he just wasn’t fond of her. He made that point painfully obvious, but she was bound and determined to change his mind, being that he didn’t have any good reason. She was perfectly polite and she took good care of Grace. Usually, Parker wasn’t bothered by people who didn’t care for her, but for some reason she couldn’t explain, it irked her that Calum didn’t. At noon, armed with her tray of medications and Grace’s lunch, Parker headed down the hall to Grace’s room with the intent to strike up a conversation with Calum and kill him with kindness.

As she was about to go inside, she overheard Calum talking to Grace. He didn’t usually have much to say—Parker could count on two hands the number of words she had ever heard him utter—and she was intrigued by the sound of his voice. It was deep and raspy, and Parker swore she could hear an accent she hadn’t picked up on before. She wondered why Calum had an accent and Grace didn’t.

Parker leaned against the doorframe for a minute, just listening to him talk animatedly to his grandmother. She wasn’t really listening to the words he spoke so much as the way he spoke them. His voice was surprisingly soothing, and for the first time she noticed he had an infectious laugh that made Parker smile.

She was distracted a moment too long because when she looked up, Calum was outside the door and levelling her with an angry stare. The smile slipped off Parker’s face immediately.

“You make it a habit to eavesdrop on people?” he snarled.

“Oh—no,” she tried to explain, looking down at her tray. “I was just—”

“Just what?” he cut her off, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just being fucking nosy and invading what little privacy we have here?”

“Honestly, I—I wasn’t—” Parker stuttered, but words failed her when he lifted his hand, slamming it next to her head on the wall. She wanted to kick herself for flinching—now he had no doubt she was afraid of him.

Calum leaned in close, close enough for Parker to see the spark of anger dancing in his brown eyes. “Stay the fuck out of our private conversations, understand?”

Parker instinctively backed further into the corner she had been standing in, feeling incredibly threatened by Calum. His expression was deadly—Parker couldn’t even utter any words to explain herself, looking dumbly up at him while her heart pounded and her hands shook so violently she almost dropped her tray. So much for convincing him not to hate her.

He lingered a moment longer before dropping his hand, the fire in his eyes burning into hers once more before he turned down the hall.

As soon as he was out of sight, Parker let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. She closed her eyes briefly to compose herself before entering Grace’s room, quickly setting the tray on her nightstand and leaving before she could say a word.

If Parker was on the fence about Calum before, she wasn’t anymore—he terrified her.

• • • • • •

Calum was beginning to get fed up with Grace’s irritatingly sweet nurse. Or rather, fed up with the things she was making him feel. He would be lying if he said it didn’t excite him, the way he got a rise out of her when he cornered her outside of Grace’s room today. He had seen her coming with that stupidly sweet smile on her face, and their encounter couldn’t have gone better if he’d planned it. She reacted exactly how he had hoped, and seeing the fear in her eyes—fear of him—gave Calum a sick sense of satisfaction. Maybe now she’d leave him the hell alone and he could let his mind wander in peace without worrying about thinking of her.

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

PART TWO! SAME WARNINGS: smut, blood, gore ish, and drug abuse. SMUT

She faintly hears the roar of the bikes and she smiles. She was gonna be okay. She could still hear Kozik sobbing in the background when Tig burst through the door. His baby sister lying atop a broken chair, a spindle broken off in her leg, breaking skin on the other side, a lake of blood on the floor, Kozik sitting in it quaking and shivering.

“Christ, someone grab him. Call an ambulance, Juice grab a towel to tie off the leg.” Tig kneels in the sticky blood, caressing her head in his ringed hands.

“Alex.” She whispers, a hand meekly reaching for him only to fall into the blood.

“It’s okay baby. It’s okay.” He whispers, letting Chibs tie the towel as tight as he can to curb the bleeding until the ambulance arrives.

“I’m sorry Celeste.” A soft whisper escapes Kozik’s lips over and over again like a chant.

“Kozik, what happened?” Tig asks as the medical team stabilizes her leg and gets her out of the apartment.

“Kozzie boy, what ‘appened to the girl?” Chibs asks, resting a hand on the man’s shivering shoulder.

“I pushed her. I’m so sorry. Tell her I’m sorry.” He murmurs, sinking back into the pool of blood. Jax and Opie pull him back up, taking him to the shower and washing the blood off him.

A few days pass, Her heart racing when Kozik walks in the room, hands folded at his waist and his eyes on the floor.

“I can’t, Tig.” He turns to leave but her voice stops him.

“It’s been a year, and you haven’t returned my calls, yet you aren’t even going to visit me in the hospital?” She calls. He sniffles.

“I’m sorry, Celeste.” He whispers, heading out of the room.

On the day she’s released Tig greets her at the door. They head out together and he drops her at him apartment.

“You be careful in there.” He calls.

“There’s only two more chairs.” She giggles, heading inside to find him. There’s a needle on the table, freshly used, and no Kozik in sight. “Pretty blue eyes?” She calls. Hearing the bedroom door open, his head appears from down the hall.

“Christ, I’m so sorry. Look at you.” He smiles, grabbing her arms and swinging them wide to get a good look at her.

“You look pretty beat up. You doin’ okay?” She asks, eyeing the table.

“I’m okay. That’s from yesterday. I haven’t shot up today at all.” He nods, proud of himself.

“Aw, sweet boy I’m so proud of you.” She smiles reaching for a hug. With wide arms, her draws her in, hugging her tightly.

“I missed you so much.” He whispers, sniffing back the tears. “I’m sorry I never answered your calls. I’m sorry I let you bleed out on the kitchen floor. I’m sorry for calling you when I should’ve just left you alone.” He gushes, hugging her a little tighter as he buries his nose deep into her neck. She was warm and comfortable and everything he wanted and needed.

“It’s okay. I’m just worried about you, ya know?”

“I know, I’m going to rehab tomorrow. Will you drive me?” He asks, leaning a little ways back. She grins at him and kisses his forehead.

“I’d love to.” She pats his shoulder before heading into the kitchen to find something for them to eat.

The next morning she found him sitting in the living room with a small bag packed and a nervous smile.

“You ready for the best decision of your life?” She asks, patting his shoulders. He stands and pulls her into a hug.

“I love you so much, pretty girl. You literally saved my life.” He cries, his big hand caressing the back of her head and his cheek pressed warmly and gently against hers.

“Not yet I haven’t.” She giggles, pressing a cute little kiss to his cheek and grabbing his hand. “Let’s go, big baby.” She chuckles as she leads him out of the apartment and down to her car.

“Thank you, Celeste. I couldn’t do this without you.” He gives her a serious look. As she walks him to the door of the rehab center, her heart begins to pound. He leans down to kiss her, but she turns her head, his lips landing on her cheek.

“You can give me a non platonic kiss when you’re sober over a year. Got it?” She giggles, poking a finger into his chest. A little defeated, but he nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“I love you so much, Celeste. Thank you.” He whispers.

A year passes and she receives a letter in the mail. She was living back in Los Angeles again, with her current boyfriend. Opening the letter, it reads:

Hey you,

It’s officially a year.

Is that kiss still available? Kidding, kidding.

But hey, I joined the marines. It’s going well so far.

Can’t wait to see you again sometime. Maybe I’ll be

Stationed in Los Angeles someday. Anyway, just wondered

How you were doing? I miss you a lot these days.

Really sorry about that heroin phase. Thanks for

Believing in me, pretty girl.

I love you!

Herman Kozik

Tears fall down her cheeks as she reads the letter over and over again.

Her boyfriend peeked over her shoulder to see a Polaroid picture gripped in her fingers, her other hand clasped over her mouth as she sobbed tears of joy.

“Your brother?” He asks with a smile.

“No, my best friend.” She smiles, sniffling as she wipes away the tears.

As the years went by, they lost touch once more.

“Hey! It’s Alex. Uh, you gotta come home. We’re going on lockdown and I need you home.” He informs, and she starts packing immediately. She didn’t question him. She packed her bags and got in her car heading for Teller-Morrow. Upon arrival, she was greeted by Juice and all of her favorites. Jax came over holding a baby and a squeal escapes her as she races to greet him and his little angel.

“Aw Jax!” She coos, grabbing the baby from him and coddling him close to her, grinning at the little dude and cooing little nothings at him. She hands the baby over to the blonde, gripping him in a tight embrace.

“It’s good to have you home. You should consider moving back.” He chuckles, waving his baby in her face like a carrot on a string.

“You’ll have to do better than that to get me to stay here. But that little guy is pretty cute.” She grins, poking the baby’s cheeks and getting a precious laugh.

“Oh shit, here comes Ope and Tig.” Jax warns as Opie comes jogging towards her with two kids and Donna close behind. A bigger grin broke across her face as she jumps into his arms.

“Jax was right. I gotta move home! I’m missing so much!” She cries, a few joyful tears falling down her face as she hugs Donna tightly and introduces herself to their two children. Tig waits impatiently for her to get done.

“You just keep getting prettier.” Tig ruffs, gripping her in a tight hug.

“And you keep getting older.” She croaks, gripping back just as tightly. She’d missed so much of everyone’s lives and it broke her heart. They all had growing kids and beautiful families. She wondered what her life would’ve been like if she and Kozik had stayed.

“Let’s get you inside. Got a few guys you should meet.” Tig huffs as he drags her inside. She meets Happy Lowman, the Tacoma Killer. A tall bald man with lots of tattoos, but an overwhelmingly loving demeanor; at least she thought so.

“You okay with that, Tiggy?” She almost knew that voice. Something about the gravel in it and the sweet ting made her heart skip. Ducking through the crowd to see who the owner was; she finds herself staring at him.

“Yeah, it’s really great.” Tig bites. Kozik got in Tig’s face grinning. “You want a kiss?” He asks, frowning at him. She hid a little while longer, just to be sure the man she was watching was in fact him. Herman Kozik. Pulling the Polaroid from her purse, she compares the man to the photo. The twinkling blue eyes, the same stupid spiky hair; without a doubt. Somehow time had done well by him. He’d gotten a little taller, a little broader in the shoulder, and he’d filled out well; decorating his skin in ink that drew her in. The leather fit tighter on his shoulders, his jaw was straighter and her heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear.

“How the fuck are you two not married?” Gemma asks as she steps up next to the petite Trager girl.

“I-“ she couldn’t say anything. She was too enthralled by his beauty. He wasn’t a nineteen year old kid anymore, and neither was she.

“Go talk to him. He’s got a Polaroid of you in his kutte pocket. Been asking Tig all day when you’d be here. He’s suffered enough.” She chuckles, walking away.

“Christ.” She mutters, shooting tequila before she makes her way towards him. As she got closer, her legs got weaker. How had it happened? Time had sculpted him into a beautiful statue of stone hard muscle and beauty. Finally as she tripped over her own feet, she collides into his back, bracing herself against him.

“Woah!” He chuckles, turning and grabbing her hands. Helping her up, he leads her to the bench seat, grabbing her a beer. “You’re already falling for me and I don’t even know your na—“ His mouth snaps shut. She found herself swooning at the sound of his deeper laid back voice.

“Hey you.” She whispers, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she looks up at him. His beautiful twinkling blue eyes met hers and he was home again. Nineteen years old lying on the beanbag in her bedroom laughing at her getting drunk enough to try dancing. “Are you gonna say something now smooth talker?” She giggles, poking his chest. One thick finger reaches for her chin and lifts her eyes to meet his.

“Celeste?” He asks.

“Herman?” She asks, side-eyeing him with a smirk. In one slick movement, he’s crushing her against his chest, which got wider and stronger. She swore she heard a sniff, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t felt so at home in so long, happy tears streamed down her face.

“Tell me something, Celeste. Is that one year kiss still a thing?” He asks, smirking at her.

“Herman Kozik, if you don’t kiss me right now, I might literally explode.” She giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his lips.

“So what happened to platonic?” He asks, poking at her sides.

“Fuck being platonic. I love you.” She whispers, grabbing a handful of his spiky hair and kissing him harder.

“I love you too. I’ve been waiting for you to come home for so long. Tell me right now that this is just the beginning. Because I saw the way you looked at Jax’s baby. I want that with you. I want it all with you. Be my old lady, Celeste.” He begs, squeezing her hands in his.

“Herman—of course.” She whispers, letting him slide a ring on her finger with a little round diamond atop it.

“Thank Christ.” He heaves, gripping her tightly against him once more.

“Can I show you something?” She asks, unbuttoning her shirt at the table.

“If it involves any more skin showing, no.”

“It doesn’t.” She assures, pulling off her top shirt to reveal a cropped tee and under her breasts, the wings spread to cup her breasts, was his crow. ‘Herman Kozik’ written across her ribs.

“How long have you had this babe?” He coos, his fingers running delicately over the ink, tears filling his eyes.

“I got it for your one year.” She murmurs, shyly pushing her shirt back down.

“You did this for me?” He hushes, his hands snaking around her back and sliding her into his lap. His hands rest in the small of her back, his face pressed against hers. “Did you say if I don’t kiss you you might literally explode?” He asks. She nods, giving him a knowing smile. “You sly little girl.” He whispers, kissing the sensitive skin under her ear. “Don’t kiss me, or it won’t be platonic. We were scared of a word I didn’t even know the meaning to.” He laughs.

“You don’t know what it means?” She asks, mockingly offended.

“Not a clue, but at nineteen, I figured it was bad.” He laughs.

“Platonic. Non sexual.” She cackles, tipping her head back. He took advantage, his lips meeting the smooth skin of her throat.

“Non sexual. Jesus Christ. We were fucking, and I couldn’t kiss you, because it would be non-platonic. Let’s try this again, ya know, non-platonically.” He huffs in her ear, scooping her up and making his way to the room they shared at nineteen.

“Herman, I love you so much. I love you.” She whispers, kissing his chin and cheeks and nose.

���I take it you missed me.”

“I wanna see just how many tattoos you’ve gotten since we turned nineteen.” She croons seductively in his ear. Removing his clothes as fast as possible, she takes in the ink decorating his perfect skin. The S O A’ that donned his chest, her fingertips brushing over it as her lips meet his smooth chest, kissing the letters.

“Christ baby.” He huffs, fingers tangling in her hair.

“Don’t kiss me.” She warns with a dangerously sweet smile. He growls, taking her down onto the bed, his lips meeting hers in fit of heat and desire.

“Babygirl, I’m gonna kiss you so much, you’ll get sick of it.” He growls low in her ear, and just like when they were young, she arched against his body and it drove him crazy. With his eyes locked on hers, he watched the moment he slid fully into her, like a movie on her face. First her eyes grew wide, but then her lip was being bitten and her head rolled back eyes closed. He ground hard against her, and she loved it. Stopping his thrusts, she turns over on her tummy, sticking her ass in the air and pressing her head down. his tongue passing over his lips before he slides back into her at a new angle, he reaches down, grabbing a handful of her hair at the base of her neck as she bounced her ass back against him.

“Herman Kozik.” She whines as they get closer and higher. He reaches around her bouncing hips and fingers find her sweet spot, flicking and rubbing the sensitive nub, pushing her over the edge and watching them both fall into bliss.

“Christ. That was better than I ever pictured it.” He breathes, pulling the sheet up over the two of them.

“You imagined it?” She asks with a giggle, her fingertip lightly tracing the letters on his chest and neck.

“Babygirl, I thought about you under me way more than I’d like to admit.” He chuckles, kissing her lips lazily before pulling her back against his bare body.

[crowleymalone]

Night Music

Martha heard the soft music drift through the air. She'd heard the song before but she couldn't place where and it always reminded her of a sad lullaby.

Following her ears she was unsurprised to find the sound coming from the control room.

She was about to speak when she saw the Doctor staring at the monitor, arms folded across his chest and wearing an expression she'd seen fleetingly a couple of times before.

XxXxX

He sighed as the song played over and over.

'Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper I love you,

Birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me.'

The melancholy melody did nothing to cheer his mood and the TARDIS refused to play anything else. Eventually he'd given up trying to ignore her and went to the monitor, seeing what she was up to. It was then he felt his hearts lurch.

'Say nighty-night and kiss me, just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me,

While I'm alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me.'

The TARDIS was playing a home movie of sorts. All his memories of Rose playing on the grainy monitor. Her smile lighting up the screen, her golden hair blowing all around as she laughed up at him.

He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to starve off the consuming coldness that was creeping over him and swallowing the painful lump that was forming. He wanted to look away, wanted to stop seeing these things because they hurt too much but he couldn't. Rose wasn't with him anymore and he'd take any hint of a shadow that he could.

‘Stars fading but I linger on dear, still craving your kiss,

I'm longing to linger 'til dawn dear, just saying this.

Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave your worries behind you,

But in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.'

XxXxX

Martha watched from the shadows fascinated. She'd never seen the Doctor so open about anything. She shifted her position trying to se the monitor but she was too far away. She did however; see the tear that rolled down his cheek before he furiously wiped it away. Her chest tightened. He'd only mentioned Rose once or twice but she obviously crossed his mind many times because he got a far away look and a sadness seemed to seep in at the corner of his eyes at things people would say.She had seen it happen just a few hours ago. Tallulah had accepted Laszlo as he was and Martha had said about there being a someone for everyone. The instant she'd said it she knew she'd said something wrong, as the Doctor looked back to the city with the same heartbreaking look he had the few times he'd briefly mentioned Rose.

XxXxX

He found himself swaying from side to side and closed his eyes when he saw her mascara-streaked face surrounded by a dull, grey unwelcoming beach. He tried to picture her in his arms, swaying with him in time to the music, smiling up at him with that smile that warmed him all over, the one that made him realise how much he loved her.

Regret spread through him like a hot poker, he never got to tell her that. She'd told him she loved him and he never got to tell her, she'd never know how much he loved her.

The Doctor wondered what she was doing now, who she was smiling up at now and he felt dampness fill his eyes. Rubbing his eyes, he looked back at the monitor and couldn't help but laugh at the image of her in her pink 50's skirt.

XxXxX

Rose had obviously been someone incredibly important to the Doctor and Martha wished she knew more about her but she was afraid to ask. She just hoped the Doctor would eventually be able to move on. If she didn't know better she'd say that he loved Rose. Of course when she really thought about it she didn't know better. She hardly knew him at all. He avoided questions about himself except for that one time on new earth where she'd refused to move until he spoke to her. His face had softened talking about his home, just for a moment his defences crumbled and she saw the real him. It made her realise that he was acting most of the time. What you saw wasn't who he really was, there was so much more to him than she'd ever know, but she hoped one day she would know more. XxXxX

'Stars fading but I linger on dear, still craving your kiss,

I'm longing to linger 'til dawn dear, just saying this.

Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave your worries far behind you,

But in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.'

As the song drew to a close, for what he hoped was the last time the last image was of Rose at Christmas, beaming at him as he walked through the front door in his new brown suit.

"I miss her too." He told his ship, giving the panel a comforting stroke, his voice cracking.

XxXxX

Martha decided to leave the Doctor dancing with his invisible partner, knowing that if she stayed to long he'd see her.

Walking down the corridor she paused at the door next to the Doctor's room. She'd seen him slip through that door many times at night time. He rarely spent any time in the room he'd pointed out as his and he'd blocked it from view when she'd moved in, telling her it was just storage.

Looking back down the corridor she dared herself to turn the handle and see just what was behind the door.

Curiosity won out and she opened the door, half expecting to find a room full of junk that was meaningless to anyone but him, alien things that she could never fathom what they were for. Instead, her hand few to her mouth, stifling a cry as she took in the surroundings.

The room was full of belongings all right, a girl's belongings. Martha took a step inside and closed the door behind her. Looking around she saw posters papering most of the walls. One wall however was covered with photos, a blond girl with various people. A tall handsome man, blue eyes, brown hair wearing a flight jacket. Another slightly balding man in a beaten leather jacket who also had blue eyes was grinning back with an impossibly big grin, his arm flung around the girl's shoulders.

Then she spotted the Doctor. He looked impossibly happy sat at a dinner table with the blond girl and two others, all wearing silly Christmas hats. The older woman in the photo looked like she could be the girl's mother, who the black boy was Martha had no clue.

"What are you doing in here?" The Doctor's voice made her jump.

"I was….I'm sorry I just…."

"This is Rose's room." He said wistfully, stepping over the threshold.

He didn't look angry or sound it, he looked a little sad, that was nothing new but there was a twinkle in his eye as his gaze swept the room.

"Rose?" Martha looked back at the photo wall. "Is this her?"

The Doctor walked up behind her. "Yes. That's my Rose." His hand extended over her shoulder pointing at one of the pictures. "That's her mother Jackie, hell of a woman although a little too ready with a slap for my liking. That's her….don't really know I suppose he's her friend, Mickey. That is Captain Jack Harkness."

"Who's that?" She pointed to the man in the leather jacket.

"That's me, can't you tell?"

"In what universe?"

"This one. It's a long story, hopefully one you'll never be witness to but to put it simply, if I'm fatally wounded I'll change my face. It's called regeneration."

Martha nodded as silence fell. She looked up at the Doctor as he plucked a photo from the wall. "What happened to her?" She asked finally.

"She's gone. That's all."

"Without her stuff? It looks like her entire life is here."

"It is, pretty much. This is Rose Tyler's life."

"So?"

"Not today Martha. One day, but not today." He said wearily as his eyes glazed slightly.

She nodded, not pressing him any further. This wasn't like New Earth; this wasn't a conversation she could force from him. This was his heartbreak and he wasn't ready to tell her about any of it. She doubted he would ever tell her what happened.

"Just one thing. Did she die?"

"No. No she's very much alive." A watery smile spread across his face. "She's living her life with her family and Mickey. She's fine."

"But I don't understand."

"Martha please; not now."

"Okay, I'm sorry." She mentally kicked herself, she'd promised herself she wouldn't push him tonight, especially after what she'd witnessed in the control room and here she was doing just that. "Well, I suppose I should get off to bed. G'night Doctor."

"Goodnight."

With one last glance over her shoulder she left the room, closing the door behind her.

The Doctor flopped heavily on the bed, still clutching the photo of him and Rose. Laying back he held it against his chest and closed his eyes trying to picture the pair of them together, in happy times. It was harder to do these days as most of his thoughts were haunted by the pain he saw on her face the last time he saw her.

Curling up on her bed the Doctor let himself relax and fall asleep.

'Doctor?'

'Hello' he grinned. He looked just as he always did. His brown suit rumpled and his hair misbehaving. 'You look beautiful'.

Looking down Rose saw her dress. A simple black dress that floated around her, silver sparkled across it like star dust.

They were in her room on the TARDIS, all her things scattered around them.

'What's happening?'

He took one of her hands in his and wrapped his other round her waist.

'Well Rose, I believe it's called dancing.' He told her with a chuckle as he started to sway to the music.

'But how?'

'Ah, that I don't know. But to be honest I don't care because it doesn't really matter. All that matters is that we're here and there's something you need to know.'

'What's that?' she smiled up at him.

'I love you Rose Tyler, have done form the minute you saved my life.'

'Which time?' She asked cheekily.

'The first time, the moment you trusted me when I told you to run in that cellar.'

His lips brushed hers lightly and she sighed.

'Is that what you were going to say on that beach?'

'Might be.' He winked.

'Well I suppose I should say it again. I love you.' She pressed a light kiss to his lips this time but it soon deepened as the need to hold and feel each other grew.

'You're going to be late for work.' He murmured

'What?'

'Come on Rose, up you get. At least it's Friday.'

Rose's eye's flickered open as light poured into her room. She groaned as she realised it was all a dream. Sighing she got up and headed to the bathroom.

"Rose what on earth are you wearing?" Jackie called.

Looking down Rose frowned before she started to giggle. "I went dancing last night." She grinned, disappearing out the door, singing to herself.

'Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper I love you,

Birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me.'

'Say nighty-night and kiss me, just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me,

While I'm alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me.'

'Stars fading but I linger on dear, still craving your kiss,

I'm longing to linger 'til dawn dear, just saying this.

Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you,

Sweet dreams that leave your worries behind you,

But in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.'

'Stars fading but I linger on dear, still craving your kiss,

I'm longing to linger 'til dawn dear, just saying this.

Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave your worries far behind you,

But in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.'

[27emailsicantsend]

Beautiful: A Muffy Fic

Author Note: I was requested this fic based off of the song, “Beautiful” by Megan Nicole. I drew some of the fic from the song lyrics and from the music video (both of which you can find on YouTube). This fic takes place in universe post Buffy meeting Rachel. Because I don’t want to rehash all of 3x17 and 3x20, I’ll briefly skim over a lot of it and add scenes to 3x17 and 3x20 to make the song make sense with Muffy in this fic. A good portion of this fic is made up scenes to compliment canon scenes.

TW: I add a small part about Buffy comparing herself to Rachel because of skin color. It’s not meant to be harmful, racist, or anything of a similar nature. It’s brief and slightly vague, because I don’t want it to be the main focus of the story. I more want Buffy’s full comparison of looks to Rachel’s (clothes, make-up, etc.) to be the plot dynamic. Please understand I asked for second opinion’s on this from people who weren’t white to be extra careful with how I approached it. They said they thought I handled it ok. I felt like it was an important message to add, while still being sensitive to people who may struggle with this. I think Buffy/Sofia is wonderful and beautiful and I hope she recognizes that.

Ok, that’s it! Enjoy the fic!

Buffy finally met Rachel. She didn’t understand. Why was Marty so into her? Rachel was mean. She jumped to conclusions about Marty and Buffy before Marty could even say what they were. While some of the things he was accused of were true, she was also saying things that Marty said weren’t true. Maybe.

Buffy couldn’t help but think of the walk they went on together, the costume they did, the race. The race. There was no way Marty didn’t like Buffy. Even when he was fighting with Rachel at the bowling alley, he still came to her rescue. All she wanted was for Marty to admit his feelings for her. She wanted him to find her beautiful. Rachel was so pretty though, with her big doe eyes and small nose. Buffy could never compete with that.

But the way he held her when they walked together after Buffy got dehydrated. The way he made sure they finished the race together, because they were never going to be able to race each other separately. Both of them knew that. What was it going to take for Marty to finally see her the way she sees him?

This was all so stupid. The timing was absolutely off. Buffy wasn’t ready for a relationship and the idea of her and Marty scared her when he tried to date her the first time. She thought she didn’t like him, but maybe she was wrong. Now she feels like maybe there is more. Maybe she feels more. But he’s got Rachel, so maybe it’s obvious he moved on. Maybe.

“Have you talked to him yet?” Cyrus cut off Buffy’s train of thought, making her jump. She had been staring at Marty while he got things out of his locker and talked with his friends for the past two minutes.

“Cyrus! Don’t scare me like that! And what? Talked to who?” Buffy said, playing dumb.

Cyrus didn’t buy it and it was registered in his facial expression. “Buffy, I saw you staring.”

“Oh...” Buffy said, shame settling in.

“Yeah... so did you talk to him?” Cyrus said, perking up.

“No. Maybe it’s better if I disappear off of his radar again for a bit. He’s obviously not into me”.

“Buffy, that’s not true. He so likes you!... See!” Cyrus said as he noticed Marty’s face light up in their direction. Buffy started to feel better seeing how excitedly he was waving his arm back and forth in their direction. A smile began to appear on her face and she raised her hand to wave back. However, just as soon as she raised her hand, she lowered it, and her face dropped again as she watched Rachel run into Marty’s arms. She threw her arms around his neck and he lifted her up off of the ground, her legs kicking behind her.

Cyrus picked up the collar of his shirt and whispered into it, “yikes, abort! Abort!” He then threw his arm around Buffy and quickly turned her around to walk her away.

Marty was right about one thing: this was torture. How was she ever going to get clarity on her feelings- or his- if he kept dating Rachel?

Later, during lunch, Buffy saw Marty and Rachel laughing and eating. Andi, Jonah, and Cyrus were busy talking and hyping up some play Cyrus made for tater theater, but Buffy couldn’t focus on that. Not with Marty and Rachel smiling at each other... daring each other to eat a small bit of salt from their hand... and did Rachel just blow a straw wrapper at Marty which followed with playful nuzzling?

“H-H-Hey guys- I’ve got to go”, Buffy said as she made a clumsy attempt to get up from the table, knocking her milk off her tray.

“You ok, Buffy?” Andi asked, concerned.

“Yeah, you ok? Want me to come with you?” Cyrus chimed in.

“No, I just really need to use the restroom,” Buffy said as she accidentally looked back and Marty and Rachel again. In the time she had taken to stand up, Rachel’s and Marty’s chairs moved closer, with his arm around her.

She nearly tripped trying to swing her leg over the attached bench to the table. Just as she was walking away she faintly heard Cyrus say, “oh...”. It was an understanding “oh”. He had seen the same thing Buffy had.

Buffy dumped her tray quickly and ran towards the nearest restroom, head down. She trapped herself in a stall and used the walls to support her as she caught her breath and held in her tears.

This was so stupid. Crying? Over a boy? A boy she turned down awhile ago? She didn’t even want this with him. Why now? But more importantly, why Rachel? What did Rachel have that she didn’t?

Buffy took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her breathing began to slow and she dropped her arms. She creaked the stall door open and peered around. No one was there. She embraced the sink slowly, holding tight to it’s edges. She stared at herself in the mirror. And stared. And stared.

What does she have that I don’t? Buffy thought. She knew she wasn’t supposed to beat herself up or have shame over her body image. Her mom taught her to love herself and the way she looked, but it was hard not to. Personality wise, she and Marty clicked. They loved the same sports, humor, and TV shows. It had to be the way she looked. That’s why he went to Rachel instead of coming back to her.

Buffy began to examine herself. Is it my hair? She thought as she used her hand to tossle her small black curls. My hair has gotten me into trouble before. Rachel can do stuff with hers. I gave myself a bald spot. 

Or maybe it’s the way I dress. Buffy pulled on her shirt and tilted her head. I wear some cute clothes, but mostly sporty gear. Rachel carries purses and shops at outlet malls.

Or is it the fact I don’t wear much make up, if any sometimes? Buffy touched her face and used a finger to try and curl her eyelash up to see what it looked like.

Maybe it’s my skin. I shouldn’t think that, because it’s unfair and wrong, but maybe his family has a problem with girls like me.

Buffy could hardly stand to look at herself in the mirror anymore. She had completely demolished her imagine in a matter of seconds and didn’t want to think about the way she didn’t look or the way Rachel did look anymore. She wasn’t going to be as beautiful as Rachel. She knew it.

The bell rang and Buffy walked moodily back to class, feeling defeated.

She spent the rest of the school day feeling sad, hardly focusing on her school work. She went into a total hibernation mode. Not thinking of anything, really- more that she just wanted to get home and lock herself in her room. And also ice her foot. It was killing her. She had been spending so long focusing on Marty that she completely forgot how bad her foot had been hurting her. When she finally became numb to him, her physical pain returned.

She hobbled outside of class and started to walk towards the stairs. She couldn’t keep walking because the pain was starting to throb, so she sat down.

“Buff-ay!” Marty called out happily.

“Mart-ay,” Buffy said, with much less enthusiasm and more pain in her voice than anything. She faked a small smile as he sat down next to her.

“How’s the foot?” Marty asked, examining it from where he was sitting.

“It’s ok,” Buffy said, rubbing it. It definitely wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Buffy....” Marty said in a warning tone.

“Marty, I will call the doctor. I promise. Today. I swear.”

“Ok, good,” Marty said authoritatively. “Actually, I’m glad I caught you. I’ve been meaning to ask you something”.

“Really?” This peaked Buffy’s interest, but she acted a little too interested and backed off. “I mean, yeah, what’s up?” she asked, trying to seem nonchalant but clearly not pulling it off.

Marty giggled. “I was wondering if you were still planning on coming to the indoor track meet. I really don’t think you should race, but it would be fun to see you there. You could even cheer me on. Since I know you want to see me win,” Marty said with a smirk.

Buffy liked the idea of that, but knew that she wanted it to just be them. She didn’t want to ask straightforward if a “certain someone” was going to be there, so instead she just asked, “is anyone else coming?”

“Well, I did ask Rachel...” Buffy’s face dropped. “But she said she didn’t care much for coming, so it would just be you and me”.

Buffy’s face lit up a little again. She was fine with that.

“Sure,” she said softly. Just as she was saying it, she heard a voice call out behind her, “Martyyyy! We need to go”.

Rachel. Of course.

“Hi Rachel,” Buffy said politely, but slightly grimacing.

Rachel gave Buffy a half smile and then turned towards Marty, “we need to go”.

“Is it time for...”?

“Yes!” Rachel replied excitedly, cheering. “Come on! We don’t want to miss it! It’s supposed to be one of the best movies to date!”

Marty’s face got a huge smile. He quickly turned to Buffy and said, “hey, I’ve got to go. We’ll make plans for the meet tomorrow, ok?” 

Rachel’s face grew suspicious at that last sentence and Buffy said, “yeah, ok”, with obvious pain in her voice.

Marty stood up and he and Rachel walked down the hall with their arms around each other. “Don’t forget to make that call!” Marty yelled over his shoulder.

“Ok...” Buffy said loud, but it turned quiet real quickly as she noticed Marty didn’t hear her at all. He was too busy making jokes and giving Rachel a quick kiss on the cheek to notice her.

Buffy sighed as she stared at her foot. The emotional pain was definitely back.

The next day at school ended up being surprisingly productive. She had a lot of work to do in her classes and every free second she had she was making a play book for the Spikes team. She felt like it was going to be a really good idea on how to help the team win their last game... but also to keep her mind off of Marty. However, she was looking forward to tonight. Finally getting some alone time with him and away from Rachel.

Later that night she was at home, still working on her play book, when she heard her dad yell, “Buffy! They’re here!” 

Marty’s mom came to pick them up for a game. She was a hippie of sorts- she wore shawls, believed in world peace, and made Marty check his horoscope everyday to make sure the universe was in line with him. Buffy couldn’t have loved her more. 

She had already been growing a relationship with her before things went sour with Marty. Buffy got rides from her, played board games with Marty and his family every Sunday night (until things went south, that is), and even helped her make cookies for a bake sale once- Marty wasn’t even home during this! Marty’s mom acted like a second mom for Buffy while her real mom was stationed. Her connection to his mom was clear and unwavering. Buffy missed her a lot during the time she was separated from Marty. She was happy and relieved to see his mom again, who was equally as happy to see Buffy.

Buffy limped her way up the sidewalk and gave a large smile and wave to Marty’s mom. Marty’s mom waved back just as excitedly. Buffy yanked on the back of the tan van door and her smiled dropped immediately. Rachel. She was sitting on the other side of Marty. Luckily, Marty was in the middle so Buffy was a little more comfortable.

Or so she thought.

Marty and Rachel ended up talking and laughing the whole way to the track meet. Buffy would have sat somewhere else, but Marty’s mom was kind of a hoarder (go figure), so all of the other seats were taken by clutter. Buffy watched out the window the whole way, not saying anything to either of the two kids.

At one point, Marty asked if she was ok, but she just brushed it off with an, “yeah, I’m fine” and kept staring out the window. He didn’t seem to notice too much because he and Rachel just went back to joking around. Buffy just wanted to go home, but decided she was already there so she might as well deal with it.

Fifteen minutes later (or what felt like an eternity to Buffy), the van pulled up to the track meet. Buffy hopped out a little too hard and landed on her bad foot wrong. Marty asked if she was ok, but Buffy just played it cool and tried not to limp too much inside.

Marty didn’t believe her and ended up insisting that she just sit with Rachel and his mom while they watched him race in the indoor track arena. She hated this moment. She hated not being able to race. She moved up the bleachers and sat next to Rachel because Marty’s mom was on an end. She hated this seating arrangement.

Rachel turned to Buffy and gave her a vindictive smile. “So, are you dating anyone?”

“No?” Buffy said, extremely annoyed.

“Well, I sure hope you find someone. Marty and I are so happy together. You deserve to be that happy too”. The way she said the entire last sentence was as vindictive as her smile. It had no actual empathy laced anywhere in it.

Marty ran up the bleachers before the track meet started. “Hey, do you have my water bottle, mom? I forgot to grab it”.

“Oh, sure sweety,” Marty’s mom said kindly. She reached in her giant bag made of mismatching fabrics she stitched together and handed him his water bottle.

Marty smiled. “Thanks, mom”.

“Oh, Marty, you look so cute in that uniform. Tell him how cute he looks in his uniform, Buffy,” Rachel said with a mischievous tone.

Both Marty and Buffy gave Rachel weird looks, but Buffy obliged. “You look really cute in that uniform,” Buffy said under her breath, head hunkered down.

Marty didn’t say anything. He just looked around uncomfortably and then said, “ok... I have to go race now. I’ll see both of you later”. He leaned down and gave Rachel an awkward side hug, which she didn’t seem too amused with, and then ran to talk to his coach.

Buffy couldn’t believe Marty had taken Rachel back after how she treated him at the bowling alley. But, she also couldn’t blame him. Rachel was really pretty. Buffy observed Rachel while Rachel cheered Marty on during his first race. Rachel was in overalls with a sunflower t-shirt. She had a gold necklace with an “M” on it that Marty must have given her for some special occasion. She had white tennis shoes on and a braid in her straightened hair. Her make up was done perfectly and naturally.

Buffy looked down at what she was wearing. An over-sized shirt with a band name on it, jean shorts, tennis shoes, and nothing new to the same hair she’s had her whole life. No make-up, no purse, just herself. She couldn’t help to compare. Rachel was beautiful. Buffy started to contemplate stores she could go to to change her look or things she could do to make herself prettier.

She got lost in thought and was shaken out of it when a buzzer sounded. It was the break buzzer for all contestants to get water, use the bathroom, etc. before the second half of the meet. Marty won the first race, and barely got second in the second race. He needed to win at least third place for the next two races to place on the Shadyside score board in the events center. 

Rachel ran over to him and gave him a hug. Spectators weren’t supposed to get on the track, so Buffy silently scoffed to herself as she watched Marty push Rachel off and tell her to go sit back down. Rachel came back upset and a few minutes later Marty showed back up.

“Sorry, Rach, you just can’t be down there. It’s for competitors only,” Marty said as he sat down in the empty seat next to Buffy. Rachel said nothing to him, arms folded with her body turned away from Buffy, obviously annoyed she didn’t get her way.

“How are you enjoying the race so far, Buffy?” he said with a huge grin.

“Good... I mean.. you’re good.. I mean the race is good and great... you’re doing great”, Buffy stammered.

Marty smiled softly at her. “Thanks, Driscoll. You better get that doctor called so I can feel the victory of beating you at a race all over again”.

“In your dreams, Marty,” Buffy said as she playfully punched his arm. “You already know the only reason you’re winning is because I’m not on that track to give you actual competition”. 

They both started giggling and Rachel cut off the giggling with, “Oh Marty, your mom wants the three of us to go to dinner tonight. Kind of a celebratory type thing. You know, for the three of us”. 

Marty gave Rachel a look and said, “well, I think we should invite Buffy. Would you like to join us?” Rachel scowled at this.

Buffy thought that Marty was so sweet to invite her, but by the look on Rachel’s face she knew she was already pushing her limits, so she declined. “I’m sorry, I am still working on that Spikes playbook and I have a ton of homework, but you guys have fun”. Only half of that was true. She didn’t have homework because she got it all done during her productive day of classes, but she couldn’t stand the thought of going to dinner with Rachel so it was best to just lie her way out of this one.

Marty looked hurt. “Oh... ok. Well, some other time then?”

Buffy felt bad so she gave him a small, genuine smile and said, “sure, some other time”.

Rachel looked happy with a tinge of jealousy. Just then, the buzzer rang for the contestants to go back. Marty quickly ran back to the track beneath them. Buffy got carried away in thought again. This time, however, it was more confusion.

Maybe he does like me, Buffy thought. He hardly spoke to Rachel when he came back. And he seemed really upset I wasn’t going to dinner. But he was just being friendly. But what if he wasn’t?

Buffy thought on and off about this until she started getting invested again in cheering on Marty. Marty got third place in the third race. The racers were getting harder to beat and the distances were increasing.

In the fourth and final race, Marty was starting to get drastically behind. He was currently in seventh place and Buffy was worried he was going to accept defeat. Just as he was making his way to the next hurdle, he looked up at... Buffy? Buffy shook her head and blinked in disbelief. It was as if time slowed and the only thing in the room was them making eye contact. He quickly turned his head away and got incredibly fast. He started passing the sixth person, the fifth, the fourth... he was a few strides away from passing the third person but there wasn’t much track left. His legs broke into large strides, practically leaping, and he barely passed the person in third, crossing the finish line in third place- making the register. Marty’s mom, Rachel, and Buffy broke out in applause. Marty grabbed his legs and bent over, catching his breath. He was smiling so much- and Buffy couldn’t tell if that was because he had just won or because of the moment during the race that helped him win.

The next morning at school, Buffy saw Rachel wearing a cross country jersey for the school. Buffy hobbled over to Rachel and said, “I didn’t know you did cross-country. I’ve never seen you on the team”.

Rachel gave Buffy a dirty look and explained, “I don’t. This is Marty’s jersey”. Rachel was talking to Buffy like she was teaching math to an annoying seven-year-old. “He won and I’m his girlfriend so I’m wearing it to celebrate him. It’s what he wanted”.

“Ok, yeah, whatever. Nice talking to you, Rachel,” Buffy said as she walked away, peeved.

Buffy then heard Marty’s voice. She wanted to walk away faster but her boot only let her travel so fast, so unfortunately she heard another fight of theirs.

“Rachel!” Marty said, frustrated. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Rachel said, innocently.

“Why did you talk to Buffy like that? You keep treating her badly. Can’t you just be her friend?”

At this point, Buffy had finally rounded a corner. She was going to keep walking, but this time her curiosity peaked, so she stayed on the other side of the wall where Marty and Rachel couldn’t see her. Eavesdropping.

“No, Marty. I can’t! She is clearly into you and I don’t want to lose my boyfriend”.

“Rachel, you aren’t going to. And don’t you think that even if I still did like Buffy it would be my choice whether I date her or you?”

“Oh, so you do like Buffy!” Rachel said, her tone now completely defensive.

Marty huffed loudly. “No. I. Don’t. Stop accusing me of that, Rachel. I was making a point. I like you!”

“Then if you like me so much why is she coming to everything now?”

“She came to one thing, Rachel. One. That, in case you’ve forgotten, she was supposed to compete in. She didn’t end up competing because of her hurt foot”.

“That foot is just an act to get you to talk to her”.

“Rachel, you’re being ridiculous! She’s hurt- wait, no, Rachel, I’m sorry I didn’t mean that,” Marty said, begging.

Buffy heard footsteps but couldn’t walk away fast enough so she flattened herself against a wall. Rachel walked right by her and down the other hallway. Buffy breathed a sigh of relief Rachel didn’t see her, heart racing.

Later, between classes, Buffy was trying to walk to her next class she had with Marty. She was panicking on what to say to him, but thankfully her foot started hurting so she sat down to take a rest. She was hoping if she waited long enough she would be late to class and not have to talk to him, giving her more time to think about what she was going to say.

This pipe dream didn’t last long because Marty found her. In short, he basically told Buffy that Rachel broke up with him over her. He insisted to Rachel- and Buffy- that he didn’t like Buffy anymore. But Rachel didn’t believe him. It must have happened during lunch, but Marty seemed to have bounced back really quickly. 

He also explained that he felt like he and Buffy were better off as just friends, because Buffy said so. She couldn’t help but feel like such an idiot for saying that. Karma had officially come back to get her for it.

Buffy spent the next few weeks in active avoidance of Marty and Rachel. Meanwhile, she finally listened to Marty and went to see a doctor. She had a stress fracture and was put in a walking boot. Marty talked to her once about it, thanking her for finally taking care of herself and giving her a hug. He asked if there was anything she needed, but when Buffy insisted she could take care of herself and that he did enough, he stopped talking to her. She was really good at pushing people away. It was all she seemed to know how to do as of late. 

She wasn’t sure he would talk to her again after pushing him away a second time. While it wasn’t as harsh, it was still forward and Marty seemed to get the hint. It wasn’t worth trying right now if she wasn’t even sure how to be friends with him.

The Spikes also won the game with the playbook she had been crafting for so long. Making the plays was a good hobby to keep her mind off of Marty. She was sad to not see him at the game, but understood why.

After this time had passed, Andi’s big party was finally here. It was on a Friday night. The music was loud and there were people everywhere. The Mack house was decorated beautifully with balloons and lights and Buffy was having the time of her life... until she saw Marty. She had classes with him and had seen him in the halls up until this point. She would stare sometimes, but she did her best to give him (and her) space while she figured out her emotions and he recovered from his break-up. Especially if the break-up was because of her, she knew it would just hurt him to keep seeing her.

But, at the party, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to talk to him so badly, but knew it would only hurt. She was caught staring at Marty again by Cyrus. Cyrus, once again, tried to assure Buffy that he liked her as more than a friend, but Buffy knew differently. Why? Because he said so.

She decided that maybe the timing was off and that maybe it was better they were just friends. She later saw Marty dancing by the food table, the place where they first met. For fun, she rehashed the conversation about eating the live-frog. Marty took well to it and they were having a good time. Until Buffy messed it up. She thought that the bants were probably too flirty and they needed to have a normal conversation. A normal conversation would make them friends and finally allow her to move on from whatever feelings she was having- if they were something more. She was obviously never going to be Rachel. Not as intriguing or as committed to Marty. Not as beautiful. He was over Buffy and she needed to accept that for whatever it was worth.

However, when they tried a normal conversation, it died right after Marty asked, “how was your day?”

“Fine, how was yours?” replied Buffy.

“Fine”.

It wasn’t better. It wasn’t going to get better.

“Never mind. It was a stupid idea,” Buffy said before she ran away from that horrible conversation, fighting back tears. Her chances of even being friends with Marty were lost. She wanted to be more than friends with him and she knew it now. It was so clear to her.

Her jealousy with Rachel, the way he smiled at her, the way he helped her and cared about her, his dimples, his eyes- she wanted to be more with him, but she was too late.

As Buffy was running out the door, she heard someone call her name.

“Buffy!” yelled Marty. She turned around.

He asked if they could try the conversation again. More straight-forward and honest.

Here goes nothing, Buffy thought.

“I like you,” Buffy said. “Like the way you used to like me, but don’t anymore.”

“That was very straight forward, well done.”

“Thanks.”

There was complete silence. Buffy didn’t know what else to say. She came clean and was at a loss of words, but also proud of herself for finally acknowledging her feelings. 

However, the silence bothered her so she panicked and quickly asked Marty, “is it still my turn?”

“No, I’ll go,” he replied gently. “Really?! Now it’s your turn”. Marty seemed pretty enthusiastic she finally liked him, but it probably just boosted his ego so what was the point. Her opportunity was probably lost.

“That’s it. That’s all I wanted to say in case you ever changed you mind”. Defeated, Buffy looked at the ground. She wanted out of there so badly, but something was holding her there. Keeping her body locked in place.

“Buffy,” Marty said as he grabbed one of her arms, his hand sliding down to meet hers. He then grabbed her other hand with his other free one.

What is happening? Buffy thought. Her heart began to race. She felt herself start to clam up. The comfort she felt from Marty’s touched outweighed the panic that was starting to work up in her.

“I’ve never changed my mind,” Marty said, reassuringly.

That’s when something she never saw coming happened. He kissed her. It was as if the kiss made all of her fears and doubts vanish. Everything she worried about with Rachel was gone. He wanted Buffy and always did, but he safeguarded himself by lying. While Buffy was upset he lied, she didn’t let that get to her and ruin the now best night of her life. She understood why he did it and that’s what mattered.

He put his arm around her and she nuzzled into his chest as they walked back into the Mack house. It was where she belonged. That spot in his arms was meant for her and she knew it the moment she was there.

After they walked back in the house, Marty dropped his arm and grabbed her hand again leading her back onto the dance floor. He had a big, cheesy grin on his face and began to dance goofy while holding her hand as a way to coerce her into dancing with him. She rolled her eyes and shook her head laughing at him. He was so funny and she loved everything about him. The way he laughed, the way he never took himself too seriously, they way he banted with her. And he was hers now. They were together. It felt like a miracle.

Buffy relaxed and danced to the rest of the fast song with Marty. He spun her around and they jumped up and down as they sang loudly to the chorus. When the song ended, a slow song came on. Marty stuck out a hand, puffed up his chest, and asked in the most gentleman-like manner he could muster, “Buffy Driscoll, would you give me the honor of having this dance with you?”

Buffy grinned and rolled her eyes again, grabbing his hand. He moved the hand he was holding hers with upright and then put his other hand on the small of her back, quickly pulling her in close. She lightly rested her free arm on his shoulder.

Buffy put her head on his free shoulder and they gently swayed for a bit while he sang the song softly in her ear. This made her heart melt.

Then she heard something that solidified everything. His feelings, her feelings, correcting her doubts, and giving her confidence in herself, in them. It was four words, but it was all she needed to hear.

“You are so beautiful”. She knew he meant on the inside and out. He saw her for everything she was and she felt the same about him. 

She smiled, moving her arm from Marty’s shoulder, around the back of his neck. She was going to hold him as close to her as she could. He was the only one who could break down her wall. He was truly close to her, in every way possible and she couldn’t have wanted anything more than that. They were beautiful.

Requested by: @dancerdramatic14