#link just lays there awkwardly staring at the ceiling until she leaves

[avenin7]

this may be how Mipha finds out they’re together……

I honestly had a scene written out where she walks in on them and it’s like that one Bo Burnham sound of “prolonged eye contact (prolonged eye contact), prolonged eye contact (prolonged eye contact)” until she gets so awkward she leaves. Nobody speaks to each other for several days. The urge to make it canon is so so strong.

[starzblvd]

Sleepover w/ college!Ellie before + after dating hc’s<3

「˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚。」 fluff with slight smut at the end

Before

꒰ა☆໒꒱ would beg for Joel to let you stay a night or two over the summer and wouldn’t drop it until he says yes, then when he does she’d excitedly be texting you “yeah he’s chill with it”

꒰ა☆໒꒱ spends an hour searching up “things to do at sleepovers” so she can map out everything in her head, making up little scenarios of how’d you act with each activity saying she’d definitely love this out loud every once in a while

baking heart shaped cookies? She’ll like this

having a meal based off a movie we watch? She’s going to be so happy

Making face masks and applying it on each other? I’ll get to be close to her face

꒰ა☆໒꒱ So nervous when she actually hears your car pull up the drive way and takes a breathe before opening the door for you but she’s so nervous having you to herself at her house she just awkwardly smiles for a couple of seconds staring at you until Joel introduces himself and breaks the moment

꒰ა☆໒꒱ She didn’t tell Joel she had a thing for you but it was so obvious to everyone besides you, Ellie’s eyes lingered on your face and body with how painfully your shorts and low the cut of your top was. Joel would leave the two you be but would get second hand embarrassment if he stayed any longer to watch how Ellie would be so plainly into you, smiling and nodding along with everything that came out the lips she wished she’d one day be able to know the feeling of, or when she’d get a little red when you even slightly touch her arm

꒰ა☆໒꒱ Not even watching the movie and just looks at you majority of the movie, even if she insisted on playing her favorite movie when you said you haven’t seen it yet, but immediately looks away towards the screen if you shift a little in case you’d look over so she doesn’t get caught

꒰ა☆໒꒱ When it’s time to sleep she didn’t want you to sleep on her floor so she offered her bed but was so flustered when you just suggested sharing a bed and how it wouldn’t be much of a deal, for you anyways

Ellie’a staring straight at the ceiling while you made yourself comfortable on her mattress, having the feeling of your weight besides eased her a bit after a bit with the smell of your shampoo reaching her nose with how close you were

still she wouldn’t be able to sleep until you fell asleep first, then she’d roll on her side to admire you in the dim lighting of her room with only the light coming in through the gap of her curtains landing perfectly on you, after a few minutes she’d lull herself to sleep

꒰ა☆໒꒱ when you woke up you noticed Ellie’s leg was laying onto of your hip and her face was even closer than when you initially were awake, so close you feel the slow steady breathes from nose. You knew she tends to wake up later than you and it was nearly 8am at best, but before you could completely fall into another deep sleep Ellie’s breathing hitches while slowly removing her leg off from you. Opening your eyes a small quarter Ellie’s eyes were wide with a soft pink blush contrasting her freckles, she didn’t notice because she was too focused on repositioning herself like she wasn’t clinging to you all night

After

꒰ა☆໒꒱ doesn’t even ask to have you over and just gives Joel a heads up since she frequently takes you to her house when she can, you even have your own toothbrush next to hers

꒰ა☆໒꒱ You were over so often but Ellie would prefer to actually live with you, she’d even send you a link to join a collab pintrest board to make an imaginary apartment subtly but not really subtly trying to get you on board with the idea of moving in with her

꒰ა☆໒꒱ Washes the blankets you like most of hers for you to use, maybe if she makes you comfortable enough you’ll stay even longer is her mentality when prepping for your arrival

꒰ა☆໒꒱ Cradling you from the back not letting you escape her arms, laying her head on your shoulder smelling the perfume you use that’s Ellie’s favorite, having to pry her off when you need to go to the bathroom

“Ellieee, i got to go cmon”

She groans “just a minute more” before squeezing you but it only makes your need to go worse

꒰ა☆໒꒱ Let’s you borrow any of her clothes and insists that you do, she loves seeing how her clothes look on you, in a way to her it reminds her how you’re hers and hers only and leaves your smell on the fabric when she gets it back

꒰ა☆໒꒱ when Joel leaves you alone Ellie’s quick to get touchy, first she’s sweet picking you up and giving you a small twirl around kissing your nape all over then she smudges whatever lipgloss you put on when she kisses you in the needy hasty way she does, she loved the way the softness of your lips feel on hers, you let her tongue slide in when you felt her soft lick on your lower lip. It was all getting pretty hot until Joel casually slams the door open

“Got another space magazine for, you” he scanned Ellie’s face pretending he’d walked in you two playing uno or something instead

She’d quickly push you off of her that makes you stumble a bit while fixing the two strands adorning her face, flushed but trying to act nonchalantly to deescalate the situation but she wishes she could burry herself into the walls

꒰ა☆໒꒱ Any shyness she harbored prior to dating was long gone with wanting to shower with you, get dressed with you, and sleep within your embrace, being able to have any touch of you sent her into a calm happy bliss so she never misses the opportunity to slip her hands under every article of clothing you wore, sometimes she’d pinch you lightly to tease you because it was so funny to her how you pouted and swat away her hand all frantically

꒰ა☆໒꒱ Nights where you couldn’t sleep Ellie would suggest an idea that worked every time to knock you out, that idea was her slipping her hand under your shorts into the warm wet space of your underwear letting her fingers do all the work smiling all cocky when you had to shove your face into the pillow to keep quiet

[mysteriesgalplusdamianthings]

Homeward Bound (NSFW)

This is a small snipit from my damimaps oneshot. This was based on a prompt wish list from @gumbloodygirl I really like, there were like eight other prompts that I might take a gander at later down the road but this stood out to me.

This one was where Maps and Damian venture back to Gotham with a little surprise for the fam, after a whole year of raising their child away from home.

So a big thank you @gumbloodygirl for the prompt.

Warning: it has smut obviously, so read at your own risk.

Here's the link if you want to read the rest of it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32561929

Happy Reading!!!!

Maps felt uncomfortable.

Very uncomfortable.

She breathed laboriously shifting awkwardly in her bed, groaning as she did, her eyes slowly fluttered open to be faced with her ceiling. She blinked away the sleep in her eyes, reaching up to rub leisurely at them. Maps wanted to spread out her aching body but found that she couldn't, what she first had noticed was that she felt somewhat pleasantly warm. The second was a substantial weight laying on her bare chest.

Ah, now she remembers, Maps thought fondly.

She sighed contently as she reached down to run her thin fingers through his soft hair, she heard a soft moan from the man on top of her as he snuggled up closer to her, wrapping his arms securely around her waist. Maps placed a soft kiss on his head before she looked over at her clock and read two-thirty in the morning.

The soft glow of the moonlight casting through her window was the only source of light she had, permitting her to turn her attention back to Damian, studying the defined lines and contours of his face to her heart's content. His head rested comfy buried between her breasts, as one of his legs was tucked snugly in between both of hers; so she's entirely and utterly wrapped up in his warmth.

Enwrapped in him.

She couldn't help but chuckle lightly at how cute he looked sleeping on her like this. She ran her thumb across his swollen lips reviving their last-night activities that lead up to this cherished minute. They had basically planned to have a late pizza date night, by starting the evening off with watching a whole marathon of shark week together. Not even ten minutes into the first episode did they venture off into something else... now laid a half-empty box of cheese pizza on their nightstand and a still paused shark week on their tv.

Maps contemplated reaching over for the remote to shut the tv off, but feard waking Damian up in the process. So she settled for leaving it on, they could continue it later on if they had time.

Especially since Damian had promised they'd finish the episode after they were done with their lovemaking, but he had immediately fallen asleep after a few rounds of them tumbling unitedly between sheets with sweet nothings and desperate kisses.

Although, Maps couldn't find it in herself to be upset or even annoyed at their plans being ruined. Moments like this were somewhat of a rare occurrence in their day-to-day life, however, it's not so much due to work or patroling that's been necessarily keeping them busy.

So this was a welcoming atmosphere; or the calm before the storm.

Maps let out a weary sigh.

She knew the conversation she was going to have with him wasn't going to be an easy one, but it was something she needed to address. She can't keep putting this on hold anymore, it wasn't healthy and they both knew it is the right choice for the three of them, for everyone.

She gazed in thought up at the ceiling, pondering on how to go about telling him.

Maybe she could get Dick to convince him? Or Alfred? They always knew what to say to get Damian to compromise.

Maps slowly maneuver her hand from his hair and down his back, her fingers rippled over the many scars and burns he's obtained over the years. She sighed again, as she gets to thinking about the new chapter in their life.

Leaving their new home in Arlington for Gotham.

It was a big step, an overwhelming, terrifying, and nerve-racking step, all at a cost for various reasons.

The main one relates to the boy who is at the moment using her as a body pillow; namely the life he left behind to start a new one with her to be exact. It had happened about a year ago, when she had discovered she was pregnant with Damian's child.

It had been the happiest moment of their lives, knowing that there was a life growing inside of her. It was at that realization that they decided to move, to find a place that wasn't surrounded by its own corruption, a place with new beginnings, a place where they can just leave everything behind and start anew.

They had found that place here in Arlington, yes, of course, it had its pros and cons but it was nice and it was theirs.

But unfortunately, they had moved before their son Isaac was born.

So the family had never gotten the chance to meet him. Their little bundle of joy; the light of their life. And that was something Maps wasn't too thrilled with, no she was absolutely not having any of it.

No matter what happened in their past, or what Gotham consisted of, the bats were Isaac's family too and they have every right to see their nephew and be a family with him.

Damian was just going to have to accept that.

She didn't care if she had to move back to Gotham by herself. Isaac was going to meet the people she now calls her family. Although she will admit, she couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive about what the future holds for them, all of them really.

Moving back to Gotham could mean chaos and trouble, but dammit' it was still her home, she grew up there with all her friends, and had even found the love of her life in that godforsaken city.

Gotham may be an eternal damnation, but she had so many treasured memories there. Even if it was a shared agreement between the two of them to leave the city, it hadn't made the move any easier.

And it's not like she wants to leave without her husband... but he can be so selfish and stubborn at times. Maps chewed on the inside of her lip anxiously, or maybe she was the one being selfish?

She glanced down at Damian's sleeping form, so peacefully, completely unaware of the war going on in her head.

"Stop thinking already," he mumbles into her chest.

Or maybe not.

"Damian, did I wake you?" Maps asked, watching him shift lightly.

"You're pinching me," Damian grumbles shifting again and away from her hand.

She looked over and found herself pinching at one of his prominent scars, something she had picked up a year into their marriage, it was a small habit she did when she was thinking hard about something. She smoothed her hand down his back then up to his hair again, pressing another gentle kiss to his head.

"Sorry, I can't help it." Maps whispered, pressing another kiss to his forehead. Damian settled back into her as he sighed into her bosom. Maps felt his hot breath spread up to her neck, she slightly shivered as heat spread throughout her body.

"What's wrong?" he asked, voice sleep-laden and spent.

Maps pause for a moment, now is a good of a time as any to tell him. Better rip the band-aid off now before she chickens out.

She breathes in then out to calm her racing heart, her chest heaved with effort. She let the silence settle in to collect herself some more before answering him.

She breathed then said, "I want to move back to Gotham," she quietly declares into the silent air, hoping her rapid beating heart would just calm down already. Damian stays silent for a moment or two, laying completely still, listening to the beats of her heart.

Maps bit her lip hard as her nerves rush up in her stomach and then into her chest, she was always making declarations like this in the worst times.

Maybe she should have waited until he was fully rested... but then he'd have more energy to argue back with her if she did.

Her hand stills in his hair as she franticly tries to backtrack her statement, but stopped in her mid-panic attack as she felt him move to sit up, now he's staring down at her with a serious look coating his eyes.

He doesn't look mad... but he doesn't look too happy either.

"Why?" he asked the question simply as if he was trying to understand, voice taught and probing. Maps reached her hands up to wrap one around his neck and the other to stroke his cheek gazing up at him with warm pleading eyes.

She smiled as he leaned into her touch, "I want your family to meet our son, I want him to have a life with the people we love Damian, I want them to share these precious moments we have with Isaac with everyone else, that's why." Maps replied back in a soft tone to let him know that she was genuine about what she stated, showing her concern for their son's future.

Damian frowned gently, his gaze intensified.

After a moment of quietness, he uttered, "No," with a sharp tone removing her hand from his face. "And that's final, go back to sleep."

"What?" Maps exclaimed hurt and confused, she knew Damian wasn't going to agree so easily but to reject her proposal without so much as a reason why made her angry. And Maps wasn't one to back down so easily, she hastily sat up glaring at him, and shouted.

"Why not? This will be good for him, for us, why can't you see that?" She threw her hands up as the covers slid down to their waist, the two unmoved by the sudden chill of the room hitting their naked bodies.

Damian straightens back his shoulders to appear taller as he glared down at her with equal fervor.

He crossed his arms against his broad chest, "We had both agreed that we will raise our son somewhere that wasn't Gotham, somewhere far away from the caps and cowls and now after building a stationary life here, you want to go back?" Damian shouted back as his eyes glowed a familiar shade of green, Maps wasn't discouraged by it.

"Yes," Maps replied plain and simple, folding her arms across her chest as well. The two stared down at each other, daring the other to back down, but neither was budging.

"No," he repeated again with more power to his voice, Maps rolled her eyes.

"Give me one good reason why we shouldn't?" she snapped back.

"It's dangerous," he replied.

She scoffed, "Everywhere is dangerous Damian," she spat back rolling her head animatedly, flattening her hands to her hips as if challenging him to continue.

His glare hardened, "Because I said so," he hissed.

"That's not a good reason," she shouted back.

Damian growled, feeling agitated by the minute. He wasn't fully awake to be having this conversation with her, he'll need to turn the tables in his favor. With that idea in mind, an idea pops into his head.

Damian leans in and presses a soft peck to her lips, surprising her for a millisecond before he leaned in further to give her an open-mouth kiss. Maps gasped as she backs away in shock, Damian places his hand on her shoulders gently pushing her down back into the mattress.

Maps had to blink a few times because this was not what she had expected from him.

Maps indistinctly tried to stifle a small groan, as he was now vigorously sucking on her neck, ugh he was being such a complete moron, her stupidly cute moron. Oh God, she loves this man so much, but she's all but ready to punch him in his stupid face.

"D-Damian," Maps shrikes as Damian rubs his thumb against her left nipple.

"Shh, you'll wake Isaac," he muttered into her neck, repositioning himself so he's fully situated between her legs again, which she subconsciously made room for him to do so.

He lies his full body weight on top of her's so the hard planes of his chest was pressed against her soft plump bust.

"I doubt that," she whispered, unsure at the moment, glancing at the door connected to their bedroom that was hosting their child's nursery.

"Anyways we were talking about- ah!" Maps gasped out loud, observing Damian move to bite at her nipple.

"I said no already, will you just drop it," he said kissing the gap between her breast, Maps whined. He pressed his kisses down the valley of her breast, to her navel, all the way down to her pelvic.

He sat upon his knees and forced her legs apart, staring at her wet pussy hungrily, she watched him bow his head between her thighs and gasped as his nose met her hot skin.

Maps clawed at the blankets closing her eyes tight before dropping her head onto her pillow, "H-hey would you sto-mph," his warm breath warned her a second before he brushed his lips against her cunt, spreading her folds with his tongue, he dragged his hot tongue slowly along her clit and teased her.

Humming as his tongue slid in and out of her, running his large hands up and down her quivering legs.

She pulled desperately, trying to pull away, feeling herself become undone by his skillful lips by the second, he grabbed her hips and held her in place keeping her trapped.

She tensed as his tongue flicked over her clit again causing her to jerk upwards, "Ah, Damian!" Maps whispered breathlessly.

He ignored her pleases, pushing a thick finger inside of her, adding another in after hearing a sharp gasp leave her lips. Moving them in and out in time with his mouth, his motions intensified hearing a long sluty moan echo in his ears, he smirked.

"A-at least give it a-ah chance, a month and oh! mph... if you don't like it we could always just m-move back." Maps pleaded, hoping he'd stop distracting her long enough so she could think properly.

But at last, she wasn't going to get such a request any time soon, as Damian moved from her cunt, back up to her neck, then finally her lips. Placing random kisses on her nose, cheek, and forehead still pumping his fingers in and out of her at a vigorous pace.

He was playing a dirty game here.

"Damian-mph" Maps was silenced by his lips connecting with hers grazing a path along her bottom lip with his warm tongue and nips gently with his teeth. Causing her to open her mouth for him so he could deepen the kiss.

Without thinking, Maps wraps her arms around Damian's neck pulling him in closer as their tounges intertwine in a fight for dominance.

Damian won.

Getting lost in the sensation that is Damian, he pulls his fingers free from her throbbing walls causing a short whine from her into their embrace, naturally, he starts grinding into her, creating delicious friction between the two, drawing a deep moan from them both.

Maps couldn't help but grind back into him as their bodies moved like waves together, creating a smooth rhythm. He reached down to knead at her hips and one of her breasts, rolling his index finger and thumb over her right nipple giving it some much-needed attention.

"Damian please," Maps whined breathlessly, Damian couldn't help but smile.

"Please what?" he said teasingly, knowing he now has the upper hand.

"I- you... this- ah! this isn't fair," Maps half-cries and half-moans out loud as he enters her.

"This is fair love," he whispers into her ear as he starts to move in and out of her in slow motions and the occasional roll of his hips, dragging out his thrusts. Causing slight grating against her clit, generating yet another familiar vulgar moan to escape her lips, prompting Damian to moan as well.

Damian sighed heated and sharp in her ear finding her little groans the most enraptured noise to ever grace his ears.

Damian moved his hands down to grip her hips as he thrusts up into her hard. And for a while, the only sound that filled their room was their bodies slapping against each other and scattered breathy moans from the both of them.

"N-no, I-" Maps slides her hands up his chest for leverage as he speeds up his pace, she just couldn't get a single word out for every time she did he'd bottom her out completely stealing her breath away, forgetting what she had wanted to say in the first place.

Damit, she wasn't going out like this.

Maps frowned and leaned up to bit his shoulder, prompting Damian jerk in pain. She quickly shoved him off pushing him to the side so his back was now laying flat on their mattress.

She wastes no time shifting their positions so she was now straddling him, placing both her hands flat on his chest, she looked down at him with dark determined eyes.

"Listen here you idiot," Maps snapped, watching Damian's eyes widen with shock and if she wasn't mistaken... a bit of pride too. "We're doing this whether you like it or not, I already bought the tickets so you can either stay here and sulk while I and your son leave or you can come with us and be a family." Maps huffed angrily, as Damian silently, begrudgingly, contemplated his options.

He sighed closing his eyes, "Fine, but only for a month," he brooded looking like a pouty child.

Maps squealed excitedly leaning down to shower him in kisses and thank you's.

"I promise you won't regret this and this way Isaac can see his uncles and grandpa and-" Damian reached up behind her head smashing her lips against his, he pulled back with a smug smirk.

"Why don't we continue where we left off before you go on your little amusing rant," he suggested placing his hands where her thighs and ass meet.

Maps nodded with a giggle, as Damian began moving her up and down while simultaneously thrusting up into her, picking up his pace where he had left off.

Leaving nothing but soft moans amidst the couple, echoing all throughout the night.

[nblesbianbenhanscom]

you can read it on ao3 too. link is in the notes.

***

When Billy wakes up in the hospital, all he can hear is the sound of some dumbass machine beeping. He wants to make it stop, but when he goes to pull the blanket away, he’s stopped by the tubes and bandages.

He looks down at himself, frowning. He tries to think back, but all he remembers is getting in his car-- Steve Harrington slamming into his Camaro with an unknown car-- to go to Karen’s.

Had there been an accident? Had Harrington been involved somehow? He’s not sure and his head is beginning to throb so he decides to go back to sleep.

When he wakes up again, Max is sitting next to him in a guest chair, tears streaming down her cheeks as she holds his hand. They are alone. He wants to ask her what’s wrong, but then she begins to talk.

“Billy, you fucking asshole, you better stop this shit. Just wake up, please.”

Billy clears his throat and Max jumps as she looks up his face. Her eyes are wide, her hair a mess.

“Billy?” She whispers.

His mouth and throat are dry as he says, “Who were you expecting? Santa Claus?” It barely comes out as a whisper.

Letting out a strangled half sob, Max gets up and hesitates. He watches her blink several times.

“Billy, oh my god, you’re okay!” She leans forward and gives him an awkward hug. He pats her back, totally confused.

“Yeah, shitbird, why wouldn’t I be?” He asks.

Slowly she pulls back and looks at him. “You don’t remember?”

He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. He remembers a room, hot and humid, the sauna? At the pool? He’s locked in. Max is at the window.

I’ve done things, Max. Really… bad things. I didn’t mean to. He made me do it.

Billy shakes his head, no.

He made me do it?  Billy thinks to himself. He who? Neil? No, not Neil. A shadow?

“I’m gonna go get a doctor,” Max says. She gets up and leaves quickly.

He’s not alone for long before a team of nurses and doctors come in and begin poking, prodding, and asking him questions.

At one point he looks over at the door and sees Max looking at him from the hall. There’s a girl next to her. A girl that shouldn’t be there. Billy’s not sure why, but she really shouldn’t.

Had he dreamt her? Had she died?

He can’t remember, and then someone asks him a question that he doesn’t know the answer to. He closes his eyes to try to answer but when he opens them again, both girls are gone.

Over the next few days, Billy drifts in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he wakes up alone, but more often Max is there. The impossible girl is there with her the most, but sometimes it’s Harrington or one of the kids. Sometimes he opens his eyes and it’s like his room has been invaded by quiet and subdued teeanagers. Sometimes he talks to whoever is in his room, but often he says nothing.

The weirdest times are when he wakes up alone with Steve, although this is probably in part because Steve is almost always asleep. Billy can’t understand why Steve of all people would want to be here alone with Billy.

***

It takes Billy several days to piece together what happened in the span of just a few days, all the death and destruction. Billy remembers bits and pieces, and he is flooded with guilt every time he sees the impossible girl, El. She was Chief Hopper’s daughter, but that didn’t make sense either. More people would know that Hopper had a daughter, right?

The one thing no one wants to answer is what happened to his car. Sometimes he thinks he remembers a crash, but he isn’t sure why.

One day he wakes up to find Steve staring at him from the guest chair. He’s sitting with his fist under his chin and Billy’s sure he’s not really seeing Billy.

Steve jumps when Billy clears his throat.

“Hey,” Steve says.

“Hey.” Billy keeps studying him. “Are you ok?”

Steve shakes his head a little. “I have some bad news.”

Scowling, Billy shakes his head. He cannot even begin to guess what Steve is going to tell him, how things could possibly get worse.

“Your dad sold your car to the junkyard this morning,” Steve says.

Throat tightening, Billy shakes his head a little. “Why?”

Steve chews on his lip. “Because I rammed the mayor’s car into it and totaled it that night.”

“The mayor’s car?” Bill asks.

He’s sitting behind the wheel of the Camaro, looking right at the kids, at his sister. His body is flooded with hate and anger and fear.

There is a loud crash as another car hits his, and he’s knocked around.

“Yeah, we kind of stole it,” Steve says.

Rubbing his cheek a little, Billy lets the news wash over him and then something clicks. He begins to shake so he pulls his blanket closer.

“I’m really sorry, Billy,” Steve says. “We tried to stop him, I tried to buy it off of him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Billy shifts as he tries to figure out what to say as he bites back bitter tears. Everything hurts in a whole new way. He wants to go to sleep; he wants to go back in time to that night he’d left to meet Karen; he wants to go home to California.

He wants his mom.

“Billy?”

“Shut up,” Billy snaps. “Just shut up and leave me alone.” He doesn’t want Steve to see him like this. He covers his face with his arm as he lets out a small sob. He feels stupid. He’s alive and healing, he shouldn’t be fucking crying about something as stupid as this.

“I cleaned out your car before your dad sold it,” Steve murmurs. He sets a plastic grocery sack on the bed.

Billy lowers his arm and he chokes back a sob as he sits up and opens the bag. There’s some lighters, a bunch of cassettes, and an old battered shoe box. He wants to ask if Steve went through the box, but he’s so flooded with relief all he can do is pull the box close. With shaking fingers, he opens it and swallows hard.

The box is full of things from his mom that he wanted to keep hidden from Neil. Letters, notes, birthday cards, and several pictures. There are a few cassette tapes that shed’ forgotten when she left. When he was younger, he’d listened to them on low volume in the front room, and then later he’d made mixed tapes from them so he could hide the originals. He knew if his dad found any of these things, they’d get destroyed and then he’d probably beat the shit out of Billy. Billy had carried the box in his backpack as a kid until he finally got his car and he’d shoved the box away so Neil wouldn’t find it.

The most important thing though, was a small stuffed dog that had lost most of its stuffing over the years. He takes it out and holds it so, so gently with one hand and begins to stroke its ear.

Pulling it close, he covers his face again and begins to sob, his whole body shaking.

“Thank you,” Billy mumbles when he’s finally calmed down enough to talk. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Steve says.

Billy drops his arm and looks up at the other man.

“No, Steve. It isn’t nothing. It’s everything.” Still clutching the dog, Billy reaches out and grabs Steve’s sleeve tugging him down. He knows he’s not gripping hard, but Steve comes easily. Billy wraps an arm awkwardly around Steve’s shoulders. It’s hard. The tubes get in the way, tugging a little painfully, and his whole body protests at the movement, at the touch, but he doesn't care. Steve is unsure at first, but eventually he wraps his arms gently around Billy.

“Thank you,” Billy whispers into Steve’s neck.

When they pull apart, Billy clears his throat and glances in the box again. With a heavy sigh, he closes it but keeps the dog under his arm. The dog had helped him through some of the worst nights of his childhood, and it has a comforting familiarity. He’s not even worried that Neil will see it because Neil hasn’t once visited him in the hospital.

Sighing, Billy lays back on his pillows. He watches Steve sit back down. He curls in on himself a little and turns to stare out the window. Billy falls asleep staring at him.

When he wakes up again, he’s still clutching the dog. Steve is gone and in his place Billy finds El and Max curled up in the chair reading comic books together.

***

The following weeks are hard. The dog never leaves Billy’s side and no one says shit. Steve comes alone every couple of days, and is often the one to bring Max.

No one brings up Neil, and Billy is too scared to think about what might be waiting for him there. He tries to not think about  home  , but when his dreams aren’t about him being flayed, they are him cold and alone on the street. Logically he knows this probably won't happen. There have been enough lawyers sniffing around, talking about getting him a settlement, but Billy doesn’t really want to be alone just yet, which is really frightening for him. He’s not used to needing anyone for anything, but considering he has a hard time walking on his own many days, he feels justified in not wanting to live alone.

One morning, close to when he’s supposed to get released, Billy wakes up in a cold sweat clutching his small dog. His throat hurts and he thinks he’s been screaming again. He stares up at the ceiling as he tries to catch his breath.

“That happen often?” Steve asks from the doorway.

“Wuh?” Billy jumps and looks at the door. “Jesus, Harrington, we need to put a bell on you or something.” He laughs, but it’s hollow.

“Sorry.” Steve folds himself in the chair. He leans on the arm and looks up at him. “So does it?”

“Does what?”

“The screaming nightmares. I could hear you from the goddamn elevator. Surprised nurses didn’t come running in.”

Shrugging, Billy asks, “What’s it to you, pretty boy?”

Steve smiles a little and shrugs. “Figure I have a right to know what my roommate gets up to in the middle of the night.”

Frowning, Billy asks, “Roommate?”

“Yeah… I mean if you want. I talked to Max and Susan and they think you would probably rather not live with Neil any more.” Steve sighs a little. “Robin’s been itching to move out, and like, this is the perfect excuse, honestly.” Steve chews on his lip and Billy just kind of stares at him numbly.

“No bullshit?” Billy asks finally.

“No bullshit.”

Pressing his lips together, Billy shakes his head, no, and sinks lower into the bed. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Steve says softly, genuinely confused, although that’s not hard for Steve.

“Because I don’t have any money, fuck face!” Billy snaps. Steve blinks once and busts up laughing. “Are you serious right now?” Billy growls.

Laughing so hard he’s actually crying, Steve wipes his cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I forgot the lawyers haven’t been up yet, but Joyce and Hopper helped get a huge settlement for you. All your medical bills are going to be taken care of, of course, but you’ll also be getting a monthly allowance for the rest of your life. Dude, you never have to work if you don’t want to.”

It’s Billy’s turn laugh, but laughing hurts and his tears are more from pain but he ignores them.

“No shit?” Billy asks.

“No shit.”

Billy opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He never has to go back to his dad’s house again. He can hardly believe it. He pulls the dog closer and takes a deep breath.

“Yeah, ok,” Billy says eventually.

Steve smiles at him. “It’s gonna be great, you’ll see.”

“Mhmm,” Billy says and begins to idly fiddle with his hospital bracelet while Steve starts telling him about the apartment. It’s not great, but it’s pretty nice, and big, and Steve just goes on and on about plans for cooking and parties and just everything sounds so nice.

And for the first time in a really long time, Billy can feel himself to start getting excited for the future.

[moonrabbitisgay]

Alright so I’m writing a Teba x Link x Revali fic, and it was originally supposed to be a 1000-2000 word oneshot, but...well, let’s just say I’m at almost 3000 words now and only about 10% of the way through the plot, so. Yeah. 

Anyway, I’m impatient and want to share, but I don’t want to break this up into sub-2000 word chapters, so...I’m just posting a big ol’ chunk of it as, uh, a really long teaser, I guess! I hope y’all enjoy :)

___

Teba knows he’s fucked from the moment he meets Link.

He’s met a few Hylians before, but this one stands out. He’s more...colorful than any other Teba’s seen before, with his golden hair and electric blue eyes and the strange hoops adorning his pointed ears. Teba can’t help but think that he’s far prettier than a Hylian male has any right being, a thought which he immediately pushes out of his mind with an angry huff.

At first, it’s easy to ignore. They have business to attend to, and if he feels a twinge of worry every single time Link narrowly dodges one of Vah Medoh’s lasers, that’s just because he can’t live with another injured warrior on his conscience. The ache in his chest when he leaves him alone on the deck of the Divine Beast is just disappointment in himself, for being foolish enough to get himself injured, and for leaving what should be the business of the Rito to a Hylian stranger. 

(The genuine worry in Link’s eyes makes him feel a little better, though.)

When Vah Medoh perches directly above the village, there’s a flurry of panic. After a few minutes, as it seems content to simply sit there with its beak pointed toward the castle, the mood turns to conspiracy, which is only elevated when Harth and Mazli fly up to investigate and return with the unconscious bodies of Link and a Rito male that no one in the village recognizes. Teba misses all of it, laying on a small cot and staring dejectedly at the crossed wooden beams of the infirmary ceiling, and by the time Link and the stranger are brought in he has fallen asleep.

He awakens the next morning to see Link curled up on a cot a few feet away from him, clutching the blankets, a hole the size of his hand burned into his shirt on the left side of his stomach and charred flesh underneath. On the other side of the room, a mess of dark blue feathers lies crumpled in a hammock. 

Saki and Harth drift in and out of the room all morning, fussing over the three of them. Link wakes around noon, bringing a hand gingerly to his wound and wincing. Teba sits up and clucks disapprovingly, and Link’s gaze swivels around to him.

“How’s your leg?,” he signs, and Teba huffs.

“Better than your side. What the hell happened in there?”

Link laughs, a breathy little sound. “There was a monster, possessing Medoh. I managed to kill it, but it was a hard fight.”

Teba nods slowly. He finds it hard to believe that this tiny Hylian single-handedly calmed the beast that had shot so many of their finest warriors (including himself, he thinks with a grimace) out of the sky, but according to Saki, it had been completely still for the roughly 16 hours since it landed. And, on some instinctive level, he trusts that Link is telling the truth.

“So who’s this?,” he asks, gesturing at the hammock, and Link looks over. His eyes widen, and he starts to push himself up before falling back onto the cot with a small whimper. A flood of worry rushes through Teba, and before he has time to think about what he’s doing he’s on the floor next to Link, carefully placing a wing on his chest.

“Hey now.” He intends it to be soft, comforting, but it comes out gruff. He tries again. “They’re gonna be okay. Saki and Harth will make sure of that.” Link relaxes a little, and Teba nods approvingly. He stays there, watching carefully, until the silence stretches on for a little too long and he coughs awkwardly and shuffles back to his cot. “...So?”

Link frowns, glancing back over at Teba. “I could tell you, but you wouldn’t believe me.”

Teba raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t believe you when you said you could calm Vah Medoh, and yet here we are.” 

“I suppose.” He fiddles with the hem of his tunic, looking uncomfortable. Teba watches with a slowly growing sense of trepidation, wondering what could possibly make him so hesitant to answer such a simple question. Eventually, he spells out a name.

“Revali.” 

“...Revali.”

Link nods.

“As in—”

Link nods. Teba can feel the feathers on the back of his neck rising. “This stranger had the gall to claim to be Master Revali, one of the most celebrated Rito warriors in history, who lived one hundred years ago...and you believed him?!”

“He didn’t claim anything. He was barely conscious enough to land Vah Medoh. I...recognized him.”

Teba just...stares. He recognized him? What the hell does that mean? Link swallows and looks away, and Teba starts guiltily. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, and Link gives him a thin smile.

“I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just-” He shakes his head. “You recognized him? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Link shrugs. “I could explain that too, and then you’d really think that I’m off the deep end.”

“Try me.”

Link laughs again, louder this time (and Teba’s stupid heart flutters, just a little).

“If you insist,” he responds, and Teba nods. “One hundred years ago...I was the Princess of Hyrule’s appointed knight. I knew all of the Champions, including Revali.” He grimaces. “After we lost, I was...my body was taken to a shrine on the Great Plateau. It healed me, but took away my memories. I’m only just starting to get them back...”

“Link,” Teba says quietly, and he looks over. Teba hesitates for a moment— it feels cruel, somehow, to question what he says, as wildly unbelievable as it is. He forges ahead anyway. “Do you...do you have any proof of this? At all?”

Link gestures helplessly. “I know it sounds insane. Your Elder, he recognized my Sheikah Slate. He believes I’m a descendent of the Hylian champion, which I guess is a lot more believable.”

“I guess.”

They sit in silence. Link looks at the ceiling, then over at the hammock, then back at the ceiling. Teba thinks about his tunic, a shade of blue more vibrant than he thought possible to make fabric in, an unsettlingly similar blue to Vah Medoh’s lasers. And the eye on the back of the strange slate he carries, identical to the eyes of Vah Medoh’s cannons. 

Saki pokes her head in. “Oh, good. You’re awake. And you—” she points at Teba, “you should be lying down.”

“I’m not putting weight on it,” he counters, “and it’s healing quickly. It was a shallow wound.”

“Hm.” She doesn’t push, and he’s grateful for it. Instead, she walks over to the hammock, bending over to carefully examine the unconscious Rito. “I may have to ask Amali to make him another elixir. His external wounds seem to be mostly healed, but his breathing is still shallow.” She turns to Link. “How are you feeling?”

She dresses the wound on Link’s chest and worries over Teba’s leg before leaving, and a few minutes later Harth comes in with two plates of steamed salmon. Link insists that he can feed himself despite not being able to sit up, and it’s not until after he’s dropped three entire bites of salmon on the floor that Teba insists upon helping him. He apologizes profusely, but Teba waves it off. He’d done the same for Harth last week. Link goes back to sleep not long after eating, leaving Teba alone with his thoughts again. He watches for a few minutes, wondering at the strange sense of protectiveness he feels toward this strange Hylian he met only yesterday.

He doesn’t think Link is lying. Even to him, it’s clear as day that he believes every word he’s saying. Which means that either he actually did wake up in a strange shrine on the Great Plateau with his memory gone, or he’s horrifically delusional. Teba knows which one of those answers he prefers.

Then there was the strange tablet— a Sheikah Slate, he’d called it. On his hip, it appeared to be a plain stone slab, elaborately carved and painted but otherwise ordinary. Teba knew, though, that on the side facing inward it was not stone, but a strange, smooth surface that started off dark and lit up when touched. He hadn’t gotten a good look at it, but Link had mentioned that it let him fast-travel to any of the shrines he’d visited before.

At first, Teba had shrugged it off as some fancy adventurer’s technology, but now that he thought about it, it was...strange. He’d only ever seen two shrines, the one just outside the village and the one near the Flight Range, and they had both essentially just been elaborately carved hunks of rock for as long as he or anyone else could remember. They’d both flared up with mysterious orange light about a month ago, the same day that mysterious tower had risen in the east and Vah Medoh had appeared, circling ominously close to the village. Maybe he should ask Link what he knows about them...

He sighs and turns away, moving back to his cot and collapsing backwards, suddenly aware that he’s tired as well. He should get some more rest, hopefully be able to leave the infirmary by tomorrow and get back to training within the week. He’s not 100% convinced that Vah Medoh won’t start causing problems again, and if it does, he needs to be ready for it, with or without Link’s help.

It’s difficult to fall asleep— he’s not used to sleeping in the same room as other people, it feels weirdly invasive— but after a while of turning the same thoughts over and over in his head until they dissolve into mush, he manages.

He wakes up to dark skies and Saki holding a platter of meat skewers and three elixirs. She hands Teba and Link one each of the former and puts the platter down between them, before moving over to the hammock and carefully pouring the third into the unconscious Rito’s mouth. She briefly examines Teba’s leg as he eats and tells him that he should stay in the infirmary overnight. He nods.

“Thank you for everything,” Link signs as she re-bandages his wound. She nods in acknowledgment.

“Thank you for helping Teba,” she responds, “and our village. We are all very grateful.”

Link flushes, and Teba tries not to think about how cute it is.

He can sit up now, albeit with a bit of a pained expression. It fades as he eats, but he still collapses back into his pillow as soon as he’s done. “You guys have good food,” he signs, and Teba chuckles.

“Amali is a good cook.”

“How’s your leg?”

“Healing well.” He frowns. “You’re in much worse shape than I am, you shouldn’t worry about me.”

Link just shrugs.

“Well, I do,”

he responds, and Teba has nothing to say to that.

___

Fuckin uhhhh yeah

Keep your eyes peeled for the rest of this in like, three months or something IDK

[one-leaf-grimoire]

"the knight who pierced the king's heart"

Chapter 6

Synopsis: The plot arrives! Lisa worries about her relationship. A mysterious intruder throws everything into chaos.

Pairing: Julius Novachrono x OC

Note: Enjoy!! I am introducing a new little "arc" here... they needed a wrench thrown in their plans. Let me know what you think!!!

A03 LINK

“Thank you all for coming!” Julius raised his glass of wine, a smile on his face as the dinner was coming to a close. Everyone was happy and fed, and Julius was happier than any of them at the moment. “It’s been too long since we’ve done something like this…”

The rest of the guests loudly agreed, all smiles as they raised their glasses as well. But a moment later, as everyone started to sip, a familiar scold came from one side of the table.

“Lisa! Don’t chug it down like that, that’s rude.”

“Oops, sorry, captain.”

Lisa giggled to herself, putting her glass down. She had never been at a meal this fancy before, and had enjoyed it immensely.

Fuegoleon let out a sigh, exchanging a glance with Sei. “Maybe I need to start teaching the others in the squad manners… and you’re far too young to be drinking that much! Don’t you remember what happened last time you were tipsy?”

“Oh, yeah I do.” Lisa couldn’t help but look at the head of the table, catching Julius’s eye for a brief moment. He smiled, then gave a subtle wink.

“Everything turned out okay…

...

…

“So, we have to keep this secret, right?”

Lisa had been the one to mention that problem as their tour of the castle came to an end.

“Yes… I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. I get it… if someone finds out about us, I’m dead meat. But, you know-”

To Julius’s surprise, Lisa winked playfully.

“It’s kind of fun to do something against the rules… and in a way…”

Her smile softened a little, becoming more genuine. Her cheeks heated up a little.

“...It proves that you actually like me… otherwise you wouldn’t go through the trouble.”

“Oh… I suppose that’s true… But-” Julius stopped walking, reaching out and taking her hand. He grinned, pulling her close for one last, sneaky kiss.

“I’m going to prove that I care for you in many other ways too… I promise.”

Lisa nodded, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the taste of his lips for that brief moment.

…

…

That’s right… everything turned out okay.

Once everyone was gone, Julius skipped up to his room, grinning to himself like an idiot. As far as he was concerned, the hardest part was behind him; Lisa had accepted the risks and had accepted him… although, there was something still bothering him about the way she reacted.

Lisa… she always seems so confident and sure of herself. Yet, she doubted that my feelings for her were real, because she believes herself to be so far below me. His grin faltered a bit at the thought. But she’s wrong… I’m still just a man. I have feelings like everyone else. Lisa, you would be worthy no matter who I was. A man, a king, a knight… it doesn’t matter. Because, like you said, we were meant to meet each other.

Once locked away in his room, Julius gleefully pulled out his journal and flipped to a page in the middle. It was a long list, and at the top the title read “ Things to buy Lisa.”

Well, at least now I don’t have to hold back on gifts…

…

…

…

“Lisa! Those are some nice earrings you’ve got there.”

Lisa looked up, her one good hand awkwardly holding a broom as she attempted (key word: attempted) to sweep out the dust in the corner of this hallway. She had been hard at work with chores for the past two weeks, and Fuegoleon still hadn’t given her the ok to go on missions or even patrols any more. Fortunately, this gave her a lot of free time… lot’s of time to indulge in other activities.

“Oh… thanks Captain.” Lisa smiled, panicking a little already but keeping a smile on her face. “They were- uh- a gift.”

Fuegoleon raised an eyebrow, eyeing up the jewelry. Eeeek- I knew I should have worn this around the base- Lisa thought to herself, trying not to seem on edge in front of her captain. But they’re so pretty! The earrings were gold, shaped into little clovers. Lisa was absolutely enamoured with them, the first gift Julius had brought her. Every time they saw each other since that Captain's meeting two weeks ago, Julius brought her something small as a gift, but these earrings were her favorite. Wearing them outside of a date or her room was a risk, but she just couldn’t help it.

“Gift? From who?”

Fuegoleon’s eyes suddenly widened as he started to connect dots.

“Are you... “

Before he could finish his sentence, Lisa decided to speak up and put herself out of her misery.

“-Yeah! I’m seeing someone.”

Fuegoleon’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “OH-” He exclaimed loudly, cutting himself off. The man gulped, then lowered his voice. “When on Earth did you have time for anything like that?! Is he on the squad?”

Lisa couldn’t help but giggle a little, but was still feeling very nervous. “You know… he’s not on the squad, but I’ve had time lately to get to know other people, too! And it’s not that weird. You have Sei, after all.”

“Yeah, but Sei and I are together all the time, it was easy to have that relationship…” His brow furrowed a bit. “I don’t want you to stretch yourself too thin-”

“Don’t worry, Fuegoleon-” Lisa assured him, flashing a little smile. “It’s easy to have this relationship too…”

… I wish.

Luckily, Fuegoleon dropped the subject after that. Lisa finished up her chores and headed up to her room for a couple minutes before dinner. The sunlight was dim outside her window, her room shadowed as well. Almost glum.

What am I doing…

She reached up and started to take out her earrings, carefully removing the backing and placing the item carefully by her mirror.

I need to be more careful… I don’t really care about getting in trouble, but if Julius got in trouble because of me…

Lisa looked up at her emotionless reflection, who offered her no comfort.

… I couldn’t live with myself.

With an angry sigh, Lisa turned away and flopped down on her bed, one arm spread out beside her. Her ceiling was not the most interesting thing in her room, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from it.

Everything has to be so complicated… and Julius…

Was it worth it?

To dance with danger so closely, where one wrong move would mean humiliation for him and doom for her?

Lisa had no doubt of what would happen if they were caught. Interclass relationships were basically taboo. It didn’t really matter when it was between two knights, since most knights were seen as equals to each other… but for someone like Lisa to taint the hand of the King himself… it was on par with sin. She would be kicked out of the knights, sent home, and never allowed to see him again. And Julius would be humiliated for ever speaking to her.

And yet… I can’t help but want to push us further… and further…

She loved how it felt to be in danger. Fighting, and her whole career as a knight, lent her much experience with danger. But before, only her life was on the line. For this particular case, something far more precious was at risk.

Him…

Getting to meet Julius was the most wonderful thing to ever happen to Lisa, she was smart enough to know that. And despite all the doubts she had in herself, there was never a moment that he wasn’t able to reassure her. To have someone so kind and understanding in her life…

I can’t lose him… I can’t-

But how on earth were they supposed to last?

There was no world in which they would be able to reveal their relationship.

So… no matter how much Lisa wanted him to stay…. One day, Julius would leave. No matter what he said, he would leave.

And she would be alone once again, with nothing but memories and a pair of earrings left behind.

Lisa couldn’t see the ceiling any more. It was warped by the water pooling in her eyes. Her arm came up to cover her face, even though she was alone, as the tears let gravity take over and streak down her cheeks.

I’m sorry…. I’m sorry I can’t be enough…

………

………

Far away, Julius was also laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. But he was smiling.

...I can’t wait to see Lisa tomorrow.

It was almost dinner time, and he was ready to go, but the king couldn’t help but get caught up in his daydream. Julius felt like a different person around Lisa, a person that he felt more comfortable being than whatever everyone here in the castle wanted him to be.

I want to be that person all the time… somehow…

Would he be able to keep being King if he changed? Or… did he already feel ready to sacrifice that part of his life to make room for Lisa?

I’m sure I’ll figure something out. I’m the King after all… I’ll use my authority to protect her when the time comes. He closed his eyes for a moment, his smile widening. Ooo, don’t get ahead of yourself, Julius… that won’t be for a while. For now, I just want to enjoy everything… and wait for her cast to finally come off…

He was jolted out of that fantasy as a familiar banging rang out from his closed door.

“JULIUS- your dinner is getting cold!!!!”

“Ach! Sorry, Marx!”

It wasn’t long before Julius walked into the dining room, relieved to see that only one place was set at the table, meaning that Augustus wasn’t joining him. “Enjoy- I have some work to do, so I’ll see you after. Eat quickly! You have work too!” Marx commanded before turning and running out of the room before Julius could even answer.

“Oh… alright.” Julius sighed before taking his seat, his hand immediately going for his glass of wine. Marx would make a better King than me. He’s always on top of everything! Maybe I should quit altogether…

He cut into his steak, still lost in his thoughts. One of the servants stepped forward to refill his wine. Julius mumbled thank you, still lost in thought.

Quit… that doesn’t sound so bad. I finally could take the time to travel the country… it’s been a long time.

Bite after bite after bite. Julius worked his way through his meal, and another glass of wine. Once again, the servant refilled it. This time, Julius didn’t just sip, he gulped until it was gone. By now, a pleasant buzz had overtaken his mind. The wine was so sweet, yet savory… with a strangely enchanting bitterness underlying it all. The servant didn’t step away this time, watching and waiting for Julius to be done. With a last happy gulp, Julius put his glass back on the table, smiling to himself. “This wine is amazing… what’s the secret ingredient?”

The servant didn’t answer for a moment, taking the moment to fill up the glass one last time. Julius didn’t complain, smiling up at the man before starting to drink again.

“...tranquilizer.”

It took Julius a moment to realize where that word came from. He paused his drinking, then slowly put the glass down. He blinked slowly, just now realizing that this buzz wasn’t the kind he usually got from alcohol. He considered himself to have a very good stomach for wine, so maybe it was strange that just 3 glasses got him feeling like this…

“...what did you say?”

“Tranquilizer.”

Julius blinked. Yes, he heard that right. Slowly, he turned in his seat, his vision warping, to look up at the face of the servant.

“You… you don’t work here…”

The man chuckled, completely unfazed as Julius struggled to stay sitting upright, his voice already slurring. The tranquilizer was quick, and he knew the end was near. “No, I don’t… don’t you recognize me, Julius?”

Julius did not, but that wasn’t his concern right now. His hand suddenly grabbed his steak knife, and in one smooth move, swung it up at the man’s neck.

But, it was no use. Julius was weakened, and his wrist was quickly grabbed and the attack halted. Panting, Julius felt sweat start to bead on his forehead and his stomach turned. What? What’s going on- why is this guy drugging me- Am I about to be kidnapped?

The man chuckled, wrenching the king’s wrist until the knife clattered to the ground. “Look at you… the great Stag, felled by just one little chemical.”

Great Stag… that’s me, right?

Everything started to fade away. Other people were in the room now, emerging from nowhere.

“I’m going to enjoy this… Captain.”

…

Captain?

Everything went dark.

The night was dark.

“We’ll survive this together… I promise.”

…

…

“Captain… Patri…”

“He was taken by the enemy.”

"We can't just leave him behind! Let's go save him!"

...

...

That was... the hardest decision I ever made...

…

…

“There’s nothing we can do for him now.”

…

…

"I'm sorry."

OH NO!!! What happened to Julius? And who are his mysterious captors? And most importantly... what will Lisa do once she finds out?

[pixiegrl]

hi love, "everything will fall into place" with lashton please 💜

Hello my love. I didn’t mean to do this so soon and I didn’t mean for it to be a follow up to It’s a New Kind of Empty (tumblr link) but I couldn’t stop thinking about the morning after for them and I was feeling very emo, so here it is. Love you!! 💜💜

On ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190552

(TW: alcohol references, self harm implications, eating disorder mention)

Luke wakes up, startled by the feeling of Petunia snuffling at his face, whining. He jumps a little, trying to shift away from her cold nose, held down by an arm around his waist, nose pressed into the back of his neck. Luke eases back into the touch, realizing that it’s only Ashton before his eyes fly open at the realization that it’s Ashton. Ashton shouldn’t be here, they broke up, they broke up.  

Luke dislodges himself from Ashton’s hold, hears Ashton whine at the loss, and sits up, trying to ease his racing heart. Luke takes one look at Ashton’s face and remembers what happened in the early hours of the morning, the call from the police station, the confession in the bathroom about how much Luke is struggling, how much Ashton is suffering. The agreement to talk about it in the morning, when they were both more alive. 

It’s morning now, or rather, it’s 1:00pm now, but considering the time they went to sleep, it’s morning for them. Luke hasn’t slept this many hours since Ashton walked out the door a month ago. It’s a testament to how much Luke depends on Ashton for even the littlest things. Not that the last month has been any better, Luke surviving on little sleep and little food without Ashton to cook or remind him to eat. It’s an old cycle he’s familiar with, losing chunks of time to his depression, hours spent in bed or staring at the TV, or sitting in the bathtub staring at the water and telling himself not to be irrational and do something he’ll regret. Although from the look of Ashton’s face in light, the fact that even in new clothing and having washed his face, Ashton still smells like a bar, like the smell is lodged into his pores, Ashton isn’t much better. Maybe they’re both too codependent to survive without each other, maybe it doesn’t matter anymore, second chance at happiness laying in Luke’s bed snoring. 

Petunia whines again, reminding Luke that she wants to go out. Luke sighs, eases himself from under the covers. 

“Where are you going?” Ashton mumbles. 

“Gotta walk Petunia. I’ll be back soon.” 

“Hmm,” Ashton hums, cracking one eye open. 

“You should shower.” 

“Will you make French toast? You promised French toast and talking.” 

“Yes. If you shower first.” 

“Fine. I guess it’s doable.” 

Luke laughs, leaning down to press a kiss to Ashton’s temple without thinking. They both stiffen a bit. Luke’s surprised by how easily they fall back into their old habits. 

“I’ll leave you some clothing,” Luke says, swinging his legs from the bed and rushing to his closet. He digs out an old sweatshirt and pants of Ashton’s, holding them close to his chest and taking them into the bathroom, leaving them and a set of towels on the sink. He hurries out, avoiding making eye contact with Ashton as he gestures to Petunia, motioning for her to follow him outside. 

Luke takes her downstairs and grabs her leash, putting on a pair of shoes and taking his keys as he leaves. He walks her around the block, trying to gather his thoughts and emotions, collecting himself as he thinks about last night, about what it all means. He knows they both said things in the moment, confessed how much they missed each other, the promises they made to talk about things in the morning in the sobering light of day. Luke wants so bad for it to be real, for all the things they said to mean they can try again, but Luke doesn’t know if he’s ready. Ashton hurt him with his reluctance to come out, to admit their feelings for each other. Luke doesn’t know that he can handle it if Ashton takes back all the things he said, if Ashton breaks his heart again. 

Eventually, Luke runs out of energy to keep walking Petunia, taking her back to the house. He goes inside, letting her off the leash and listening quietly to the soft sound of the shower running, pipes working. It eases something to know that Ashton’s still here, still willing to try. 

Luke goes into the kitchen, grabbing the bread, sugar, cinnamon, eggs, pan and butter he needs to make breakfast. He starts on the French toast, dipping each slice and putting them on the pan to cook. He heats up the water to make coffee, getting his coffee pot ready and grabbing two mugs down, two plates, two sets of forks. It makes Luke’s chest feel funny doing everything in twos, a sense of normalcy after the month of solo meals. 

This isn’t what Luke expected last night when his phone rang. He’d been laying awake, frustrated and miserable and exhausted. So exhausted in the same way he’s been exhausted, bone tired, for the last month, unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling. He wanted to call his mum, tell her that he and Ashton were done so he could finally cry about it, tell Michael and Calum so that he could properly talk about the break up and lie through his teeth about how it won’t impact the band, finally call Ashton so he could give him back the last of his things and have the official conversation. They’d never really discussed it, the breakup argument spit out in a flurry of words, the heat of the moment, with Ashton grabbing the few things in sight that were his and storming out, slamming the door behind him. They hadn’t properly talked since then, like if either of them spoke it into existence, it would make the break up all too real, force them to confront a new reality where they’re not together, not each other’s rocks. 

Instead, Luke’s been clinging onto the hope that Ashton will call him and tell him it was a mistake, that they should talk about it. The hope that if Luke called Ashton and saw him, it would clear the air and they would get back together. It’s why Luke had been laying in bed, one of Ashton’s sweaters clutched to his face, pretending it still smells like Ashton in the hopes it will help him sleep. It hadn’t been working, clock ticking to 3:00am and still no luck for Luke. 

Having his phone ring had been a surprise. Luke’s not sure what made him pick up the unknown number, but he had. He’d been surprised to hear Ashton’s voice bleed through the other line, even more surprised to hear his slurred speech, telling Luke calmly that he was at the police station, that he got into a fight, and needed Luke to come get him. Luke hadn’t hesitated, bitten down on his anger and bitterness, to get the address from the officer, splash water on his face, and drive to the police station. He’d spent the whole ride seething at the idea that Ashton thinks he can just call Luke and Luke will come running and then seething at himself for doing just that. By the time Luke had pulled up to the police station, he’d been emotionally exhausted and drained, ready to just get it over with. 

Luke hadn’t expected the Ashton that walked out to him, rumpled shirt and jeans, hair flat, eyes red. He’d had blood around his nose, jaw starting to bruise, and he looked about as miserable as Luke looked. One had felt one part satisfaction and one part misery at seeing Ashton in a similar state to himself. At least Luke can be content with the idea that he’s not alone in his mouth of wallowing and misery. No matter how angry and bitter Luke had been, heated words and snapped emotions in the car, Luke couldn’t leave Ashton. Holding onto the hope that if Ashton could just hang around until the morning they could talk, Luke could beg to have Ashton back. 

He hadn’t expected Ashton’s confession, drinking to numb the pain, his own heartache and sorrow at the breakup. Luke hadn’t expected to breathe out his own confession, that he’s been a ghost the last month, haunting his own house. The promise they had made to talk about it in the morning. Now, it’s morning and Luke doesn’t know what to do. 

Luckily, he doesn’t have to think on it long, Ashton coming down the stairs at that moment, Petunia rushing over to him, whining for attention. 

“She missed you. Likes you more than me.” 

“Impossible. You give her extra treats and let her sleep in bed. I make her go on runs,” Ashton says, cooing at Petunia. Luke glances behind him, seeing Ashton crouched down, rubbing her ears. His hair is damp and he looks soft in his clothing, nose swollen and jaw bruised. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Sore. But I haven’t slept that well in a month. You?” Ashton asks, approaching the kitchen, peering over Luke’s shoulder before fiddling with the coffee maker. 

“Most I’ve slept since you left,” Luke confesses, doesn’t miss the smile that makes a home on Ashton’s lips. He squeezes Luke’s shoulder, pouring the coffee, fixing it up (black for himself, coconut milk for Luke) and taking it to the table. Luke finishes with the French toast, putting it onto their plates and carrying them to the table. Ashton joins him, holding the syrup and a bowl of fruit in his hands, awkwardly juggling them. Luke smiles, taking the fruit from Ashton, setting it on the table and doubling back for the forks. Ashton’s already sitting, sipping his coffee and smiling lightly at Luke when he sits down. Ashton takes the fork and starts to cut at his food. It strikes Luke how domestic it is, how much it feels like nothing has changed. He bows his head, blinking away tears, hands clenched on the table. 

“Hey,” Ashton says, quietly. He reaches forward, aborting his movement halfway through, hand hovering in the space between them. Luke aches, at the idea that he and Ashton don’t know how to be around each other anymore, about the fact that all Luke wants to do is curl up into Ashton’s lap and sob, let Ashton hold him and comfort him. Luke glances up, making eye contact with Ashton, sees a similar ache in his eyes, the uncertainty bleeding into the air. 

“Hey,” Luke whispers, turns his hand over, letting Ashton tangle his fingers into his. He doesn’t miss the relieved smile on Ashton’s face, the tension that releases in his chest.  

“It’ll all be okay you know.” 

“How? How can you be so sure? We still have to talk, we still have to sort it all out. We still said things we can’t take back. You still started drinking again and I got so bad I started hurting myself again. How can you know it will all be okay?” 

“I know because I know us. I know I love you and I want to try again. I want to be better, do better for you. I want to do all the things you wanted from me that I was too scared to give you. I know I’m extremely blessed to have you give me a second chance. I don’t want to waste it, not like the first time. I love you. Everything will fall into place after that.” 

“You can’t just base things on emotions Ashton. We still need to talk about it.” 

“And we will. We can talk about it and plan about it and figure out how to tell the world. But first, we need to finish breakfast. You should shower, you always feel better after you shower. And I love you. I know that in my heart and I’m not afraid to let it guide me anymore,” Ashton says, rubbing his thumb along the back of Luke’s hand. Luke blinks back tears, overwhelmed by the feeling of love and emotion in his chest.  

“I love you. I forgot how much I did till you weren’t there anymore. I forgot how much I loved you because it’s so much of who I am. I don’t want to ever forget how much I love you,” Luke says, feels the tears at the corner of his eyes. Ashton makes a noise in his throat, leaning over to wipe them from Luke’s face. Luke never wants Ashton to stop, never wants to be without Ashton again. 

“I’m sorry I hurt us,” Luke says. Ashton shakes his head. 

“I’m sorry I did. I’m sorry I wouldn’t listen to you or give you the time you needed. You might have started the fire, but I lit the match.” 

“Don’t do it again,” Luke sniffles, aiming for joking and falling short, sob in his throat. Ashton leans over, pressing a kiss to Luke’s head. 

“Never. Never again. I love you.” 

Luke lets out another sob, grabbing onto Ashton and pressing his face into Ashton’s shirt, tears staining the material. Ashton runs his fingers through Luke’s curls, trying to soothe him, murmuring soft words and praises. Luke doesn’t know what to say, keeps tearily whispering his love into Ashton’s chest, hoping Ashton understands. Maybe he’s right, maybe everything will fall into place, now that they have each other again. All Luke knows is that he has Ashton again, he has his love, and he doesn’t want to lose it again. He came so close, but now he has it back and he wants to keep it forever. Everything else will fall into place. 

[epochofbelief]

Breath Control, Chapter Ten

an A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

Feysand and Elriel

All characters belong to SJ Maas

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 

Author’s Note: Is it too early to apologize?

Enjoy! 

Full Fanfic: Masterlist Link

TEN

~~~Feyre~~~

The world spun around me as I slammed back through the glass doors into the dark hallway of the club. I could have sworn I heard a voice shouting my name from far behind me but that was probably all the alcohol talking. I mean, I was going crazy right? Surely it hadn’t taken all of two days before my brand new boyfriend decided to cheat on me? I was just imagining that. Right? 

I stumbled through the bathroom door and barely made it to a stall before I hurled up everything left in my stomach.

“Shit,” I spit out. Then-- 

“Shit,” I said again as I somehow managed to puke up even more alcohol. It was red--what had I been drinking that was red?

Fairly certain I was done emptying my stomach, I wiped my mouth, flushed, and emerged from the stall. 

My eyes directed at my shoes, I bumped directly into Rhys’s hard chest.

“Get the fuck away from me,” I said quietly, pushing off his chest and stalking over to the sink. Well, I tried to stalk. The few steps from the stall to the sink seemed to take years, rather than a few seconds. Everything was spinning, ever so slightly. 

“Feyre, you’ve got to let me explain.” 

“No.”

“Feyre, please.” 

I turned at his desperate tone of voice. 

“Were you or were you not just kissing Amantha? I mean, Amarntha. You know who I mean!” 

Alcohol, you are not my friend tonight.

“I was. But--”

“No buts! That’sss called cheating, Rhys, in case you didn’t know. So get out of my way. I’m going--”

I realized I had nowhere to go. I was staying with him, for crying out loud. I did have my car at his place... But I was drunk. 

So I was stuck.

“I’m going somewhere and you better not follow me there! Wherever there even is!” I was shouting now, and Rhys looked like he wanted to keep talking, but I turned, stumbled, and burst back through the bathroom door into the quiet dark of the hallway. I ran as fast as I could without falling flat on my face and didn’t stop until I was in the center of the dance floor. 

Bodies pressed against me tightly from every direction. Only two people grabbed my ass on the long journey to the middle of the group. I was pretty sure I was crying, the world spinning around me thanks to the alcohol and what I’d just seen, when I finally found Mor. One look at me and she stopped dancing.

“Feyre!” She shouted, gripping my wrists with her hands. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “I have to leave. Can you call me an Uber? I don’t have the app!”

Mor nodded, looking concerned. She pulled me outside of the club and we sat on the curb, leaning against each other as she fumbled around in her pockets until she found her phone. Ten minutes later, our collective drunken efforts resulted in a successful call for an Uber.

When it pulled up, I looked at Mor. “Wait, where are you sending me?”

She shook her head as though trying to clear it. “No, no. We’re going to my place! Where I hope to hear everything.”

At her mention of “everything,” I started to tear up again. Damn it. Sad drunks were the worst and now I was one of them. Mor merely tugged me off the curb and we collapsed into the back of the Uber together. Twenty minutes later, we were outside yet another massive estate on the edge of town. 

“You Nights don’t mess around,” I mumbled. 

“What?” Mor asked, giggling a little.

“Nothing, nothing. Can we just go inside?” 

She nodded seriously and led me around to the back door. 

“My father really doesn’t approve of my inclination to party, so I have to sneak in and out. Shhh,” she added before another fit of giggles hit her. That was Mor. Her upbeat mood could not be beaten, even while drunk and with a crying friend tagging along behind her. And I was full-on crying by now. 

Mor carefully unlocked the back door. She led me into an enormous kitchen bathed in shadow. We made a brief stop so Mor could grab a huge bag of chips and a couple bottles of water. Except for a close call that involved a cat on the staircase, we made it upstairs unnoticed. 

Mor’s room was the first door on the right on the second floor. She led me inside, flipped on the light, and proceeded to flop down onto her enormous bed in the center of the room. Her room was… like a fairytale. The four-poster bed, hung with gauzy white curtains, seemed to float freely in the center of the room on a white fluffy carpet. The pale blue walls were covered with pictures of her and her friends, band posters, Polaroids, and other various paraphernalia. A terribly cluttered white desk sat on one side of the room, and a white dresser on the other. In one corner there lay several enormous white bean-bag chairs covered in luxurious blue and gold pillows and blankets. 

“Alright, Archeron,” Mor said, sprawled across her bed, her shoes kicked off and her mouth stuffed full of chips. “Please tell me why we just fled the club faster than Cinderella at midnight.” 

I wasn’t sure why, but I chose to sit down on the floor in the center of her bedroom, halfway between the door and the bed. “I don’t even understand what just happened, Mor.”

“Well, tell me and I’ll help you puzzle through it. And maybe start with why we stranded Rhys at the club?” 

I let out a groan and flopped onto my back. The ceiling was still spinning, but only a tiny bit now.

“Drink this,” Mor said and chucked a water bottle at me. 

I jumped as the water bottle landed right next to my head. Then I sat up, chugged it down, and put my head between my knees. 

“Mreesechertedonme.”

“What?” Mor said sharply.

I raised my head. “Rhys cheated on me.”

Mor sat straight up on her bed. “What,” she said again.

I sighed, then explained what I had seen and heard. The tears kept coming as I told her about Amarantha and Rhys admitting to me what he’d done.

Mor looked thunderstruck. Her water bottle, which had been halfway to her mouth when I’d broken the news, was slowly dripping water onto her shirt. “And he said he wanted to explain? I’m confused. Rhys would never do something like that. Ever. Especially not to you.” 

“What do you mean, especially not to me?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not serious.”

“Serious about what?”

“Rhys has been in love with you from the moment you set foot on campus for your recruiting trip.”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit. I barely knew Rhys until like a month ago, when he saved me from the Halloween party.” 

Mor shook her head slowly, her mouth hanging open. “No,” she began, eyes wide, “it’s not bullshit. I don’t know if you remember much about your recruiting trip. But Rhys and I were freshmen that year. You showed up to campus, your usual gorgeous self--” she winked at me “--and Rhys was a goner. He thought you were so pretty, and so cool, and you talked about books or something for like five seconds and then he thought you were so smart, too (which you are). And when the team decided to make the really dumb decision of drinking with the recruits that weekend, you turned down every offer for sex, drugs, whatever, that came your way from the upperclassmen guys, no matter how drunk you were. Not that he would have judged you if you had. But he could tell you knew what you wanted. It would have been easier, as a senior in high school on a recruiting trip, for you to do and say whatever the upperclassmen wanted in order to fit in. But you had those values, and you stuck to them. You surprised him.

“And then,” she added, laughing as I stared at her in disbelief, “you, drunk off your ass, got up on that table in the middle of the party, and announced to everyone that you were committing to swim at Prythian as soon as you sobered up enough to call the head coach. May I repeat--he was a goner.

“So,” she added somewhat awkwardly. “I hope he doesn’t hate me for telling you that shit. There’s a lot more behind it but I wanted to explain a little because you’re so obviously clueless!

“But none of that excuses him cheating on you, of course.” 

Now it was my brain that was spinning instead of the ceiling. Rhys had been acting suspicious around me since the Halloween party--I had suspected his feelings even then, unwilling to admit it to myself. But I would never have guessed that he’d been interested for over two years… Why on earth had he cheated, then? Being drunk wasn’t an excuse. But it didn’t make sense that someone who was supposedly… in love… with someone else would go and cheat on them two days into their very new and fragile relationship. 

I couldn’t puzzle this out right now. “Yeah. Um. I just want to go to sleep. Can you take me to Rhys’s in the morning so I can get my car and leave?” 

Mor nodded sadly. “I wish things turned out differently,” she said. “But I do think you should talk to him.” 

I shook my head. “Maybe. Where can I sleep?”

She patted the bed. “Right here. I’m about to pass out anyways.”

I merely stood up and shuffled over to the bed. I kicked off my shoes, tossed my rings and bracelets on the ground. The last thing I remember was how impeccably soft one of Mor’s pillows felt against my cheek as my tears dripped onto it.

~~~Elain~~~

***three days later***

I really did not want to do life for the next few weeks. 

Okay, that might have been a slight over exaggeration. Really, I just didn’t want to do my classes and finals for the next few weeks. Christmas break was coming up, and the last thing I wanted to focus on during the holiday season were my exams. Nursing was hard--why had I decided to do this, again? 

Of course, I did have one thing to look forward to now that I was back in Prythian. 

Azriel. 

We’d spent hours on the phone, texting, since the storm had stopped and Azriel had walked me to my car. He hadn’t kissed me. I’d wanted him to. And he seemed like he had wanted to. At least, that was what it seemed like.

I pulled my car into the parking lot, locked it, and started the trek to my eight hour long Monday morning nursing immersion ‘course’. I didn’t even want to think about all the ‘fun’ I’d be having until five pm tonight. But I only had to make it until five. Then I was meeting Azriel in the Student Union for dinner. His practice ended around five, so the timing was perfect.  And I did like my degree, and job. It was just going to be very difficult to concentrate when I knew who I’d be seeing at the end of it. 

Focus, Elain. Do your job. 

Eight hours later, I shuffled out of the building, exhausted but satisfied after a hard day’s work. I barely made it to my car. I sat there for a moment, reclining the seat all the way back, and told myself I could close my eyes for just two minutes. 

Twenty minutes later I jerked awake. 

“Shit!” 

I put the car into Drive and made it across campus to Student Union parking in what had to be record time. Still in my scrub top, I raced across the parking lot, body slamming my way through the front doors and directly into an extremely tall male standing just inside of them. 

“Oof! I’m so sorry--Az?”

“Elain?”

“Uhhhh…” I suddenly became aware of what I must look like. I was wearing scrubs, my hair hadn’t been touched since that morning, and forget about makeup. Not to mention the crazed look that was probably in my eyes after my accidental nap and subsequent frantic race across campus. “Hey!” I gave him a hug.

His arms wrapped around me and as if by magic my body relaxed. Shoulders falling, I sank into Azriel’s strong chest, my head barely coming up to his shoulders. I breathed out. “This is nice.”

“It is,” he agreed.

“But I’m starving.”

He chuckled as I broke away from him and made a beeline for the line to the fast-food place that served the best chicken in the whole world. At least, it was the best chicken in the whole world when I was this starving and had no other options. 

The line was way too long for a Monday night on campus. I was definitely going to die--of embarrassment at my appearance or hunger, I wasn’t sure which would kill me first.

“Elain?”

“Huh?”

“I asked you a question.” Azriel grinned. “But I understand if you were too busy bouncing on your toes to listen.”

I lowered myself to the ground and chuckled awkwardly. “I’m sorry--I’ve just had a horribly long day and haven’t eaten since eleven o’clock this morning.”

“I love it when you laugh like that.”

“Like--what?”

“When you’re uncomfortable--you have this laugh you do and it’s honestly the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

I covered my face with my hands and stepped forward to the front of the line. “Ohhhh my gosh. That’s so embarrassing.” I clenched my jaw to keep myself from laughing again.

Azriel gently prised my hands from my face and then put his fingers under my chin and pressed slightly. “Don’t do that! I live for every embarrassed laugh from you.”

I swatted his arm away--but I was smiling. “Alright. If you get to keep my embarrassed laughs, I’m gonna need something cute and embarrassing to hold over you.”

“Good luck finding one. I’m the portrait of smooth,” he said, rolling his eyes, hands in his pockets. 

“We’ll see about that,” I said as I flounced up to the register. Azriel insisted on paying for my food--after he swore to let me pay for our third date. (Third date!!) It was ready before we’d finished paying and he swiped the tray before I could get to it. He carried it over to a table and chairs on the second floor balcony of the Student Union. I flung myself into the chair, resting my wrists on the armrests and slouching down. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Azriel said.

I raised my eyebrows and put my chin in my hand. “What makes Azriel Umbra uncomfortable? Hmmm..” 

He shook his head, rolling his eyes. 

“That’s it!” I said. Several heads whipped over to stare at us. “I mean,” I whispered, “That’s it.”

He sat down across from me. “What’s it?” Eye roll.

“You roll your eyes way too often. Like, way too often.” 

I watched him attempt to restrain the eye roll.

“See, now that you’re aware of it you’re incredibly self-conscious.” 

He stared at me. Then rolled his eyes. “I give.”

“Ha!” 

Toward the end of the meal, I decided to be nosy. 

“So… have you talked to Rhys recently?” 

He looked up from his food so fast I thought he’d give himself whiplash. 

“He mentioned a couple of things.”

I put my elbows on the table. All around us, the Union was emptying out for the evening. 

“Feyre won’t give me any details about what happened between them. All I know is they went to a party, Rhys did something, and Feyre drove straight back to school from his place the next morning. She didn’t even come home to see if I wanted a ride. And I’ve heard squat from her since. They just seemed so… happy.”

Azriel sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I never actually saw them when they were ‘together-together’ because they got together over the break, but I know that whatever must have happened, Rhys didn’t do it on purpose. I’m not sure how much to tell you, but… he’s liked Feyre for a very long time.” 

I bit my lip. “She was just so different while we were at home for the break. Much different than she’d been since she started dating Tamlin. Carefree, bubbly, talking with my father, joking with Nesta, of all people. I don’t know what to do.” 

“I’ll try to get more out of Rhys. All he said on the entire car ride back to school was that he made a mistake, it was out of his hands, and it was probably better for Feyre if she hated him anyway. And I know that’s not true.” 

“Let me know if he tells you anything else.”

“I’ll try,” he said. “Shall we go?” 

He walked me back to my car. It was full dark outside, only the light of the streetlamps guiding us. 

I opened the driver’s side door and threw my purse in. “I had a really good time--”

The world never heard the rest of my sentence because he kissed me before I could finish it. 

His kiss was gentle, his hands cupping the sides of my face. My hands fumbled up to wrap around his shoulders as his lips caressed mine, increasing the pressure slightly. I understood and his tongue swept in. I ran one hand down his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his t-shirt, my other hands pulling him closer to me. 

But he pressed one more kiss to my lips, then kissed the top of my head. “Good night, Elain.”

I gulped down air, the chill of the night surprising me as soon as his body moved away from mine. 

I smiled at him and he kissed me again, briefly this time. “Good night, Elain,” he said again. “And there’s the laugh I was looking for!” He exclaimed after I chuckled nervously, but not unhappily, after the kiss. 

“Oh go to hell!” I said, and he rolled his eyes. Purely for my benefit, I knew. I didn’t stop smiling the whole drive home.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags

@aknymph​ @sleeping-and-books​ @queen-of-glass​ @fabfire​

[devil-in-the-d3tails]

It’s the End of the World as We Know It - Chapter 2

summary: During the international quarantine in your first-ever pandemic, the people around you slowly begin to disappear. As the world grows quieter and quieter, you find yourself all alone-- no power, no friends, and only one goal: to find whoever of your friends might be left and reunite with them.You're naive to think anything can be that simple. As you're faced with ever-increasing loneliness, you run into some boys who apparently went to the same high school as you. Will you join forces with them to figure out your strange circumstances together, or will you brave loneliness in a world that is slowly crumbling apart?

Link on AO3!

words: 3,341

rating: M - Mature

genre: angst/humor, romance, adventure, apocalypse AU, reader-insert

warnings: sort of depressing content, a smidge of violence, cursing

a/n: this one’s a little short, but please enjoy nonetheless!

- Can I Crash Here? -

It’s raining outside. You sit on a mattress that’s been grouped together haphazardly with a number of other mattresses in the dark, cold gym. Akaashi has been sitting next to you quietly this whole time, and you’re appreciative of the silent comfort. Indie lays at your feet, heaving a great sigh every now and then.

When you’d shown up at the gym, you were relieved beyond words to see some familiar faces-- even though you hardly knew these boys at all, they were still alive. You remember falling to your knees and screwing your eyes shut as the grief and fear from the past few weeks came pouring out of you in shaking sobs. Akaashi had been the one to awkwardly pat your shoulder, while Indie sniffed and licked at you nervously.

Somehow in your hysteria, you had been ushered to sit on a mattress while you sobbed into your knees. After a few minutes, you hesitantly looked up to find Akaashi next to you, and Bokuto and Kuroo kneeling in front of you with distress and hesitation-- of course they wouldn’t know what to do in this situation, as you hardly knew yourself.

Akaashi had gently asked you what happened, but you shook your head, unwilling to think of what you had just been through. You remember when a fresh wave of panic overcame you, and you had gasped, which only worried the boys even more.

“M-my car!” You ran your hand through your tangled hair. “I parked it outside the school-- shit, I’m sorry, I-- I didn’t even think-- oh, fuck, they’re gonna find me--”

“Hang on.” Kuroo asserted, placing a firm hand on your shoulder as he hooked you with a steely, calm gaze. You remembered how his bright eyes grounded you somehow, how they brought you back to the present. “We can drive your car over here and hide it. Here, gimme the keys. Akaashi, wait with her-- Bokuto, come with me.”

“Huh? Why do I have to come?” Bokuto exclaimed.

“In case I run into whatever’s got her so scared, I don’t wanna be alone.” Kuroo shrugged as he stood, your car keys having somehow made it into his palm.

“Ohhh, scared, are ya?” Bokuto teased.

“Yeah.” Kuroo said, and that definitely sobered up his spiky-haired friend as the gravity of the situation settled uncomfortably around you four. Bokuto had cleared his throat, and then he had patted your head awkwardly.

“Don’t worry! We’ll fix everything for ya.” He had beamed at you, but you could only stare blankly back. Bokuto shifted awkwardly, then gave Indie a few pats. “Good dog! Okay, we’ll be back. Take care of her, Akaashi!”

The two boys had left about ten minutes ago, and here you were, now sitting in the spacious, cold gymnasium of your high school next to a boy you barely knew who gave you poptarts only a day before. Was it a day? It feels like weeks ago.

You look up at the high ceiling as the rain pitter patters against it soothingly, and you can feel Akaashi’s gaze land on you at your movement. You lick your dry lips, and glance at him.

“A-are none of them awake?” You whisper, and you’re referring, of course, to the number of other sleeping humans surrounding you and Akaashi. The sleeping lumps are unidentifiable, as far as you’re concerned-- you’re surprised there are so many people grouped together in one place. There’s some snores here and there, but no one besides you and Akaashi are awake.

Akaashi shakes his head. “These guys can sleep through a fucking typhoon.”

You laugh a little, and Akaashi’s chest warms up a bit. It’s nicer to see you smile instead of cry. He clears his throat.

“So, what happened?” He asks quietly.

You bite the inside of your cheek and glance at him. He seems to always have the same calm, apathetic expression on his handsome features, but his voice is comforting and tinged with worry. The two of you have been sitting in the quiet for some time now, and you’re sure you gave him quite a scare upon your sudden arrival, so you suppose he deserves an explanation.

“Well, I… went home, unloaded some of my groceries.” You clear your throat. “Then, um, I tried to text my friend Callie, but it wouldn’t send, so I fell asleep. And then I woke up around 3:30 and heard some guys in my house…” Biting your lip, you remember being grabbed by the red-head, and subconsciously wrap your arms around yourself, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Akaashi. “Um, so then I ran out and drove here.”

Akaashi hums and studies you for a moment. He can tell you’re troubled, so he doesn’t want to press the subject. But he doesn’t want you to stay troubled.

“What’s his name?” He asks, petting Indie behind her ear.

“Indiana, Indie for short.” You smile sideways at him. “And she’s a girl.”

“My bad.” Akaashi returns your smile, glad to see you relax just a bit. “She’s trained really well.”

“Yeah, she tackled one of the guys back there.” You say proudly, but after you think about it for a second, you hope she didn’t kill him. Indie looks up at you, panting happily, and you give her a pat on the head.

“Damn. Guess we shouldn’t mess with you, then.” Akaashi sits back, and you suddenly notice how close the two of you are sitting. Maybe it’s the extreme lack of human contact you’ve had recently, or the fact that Akaashi is insanely cute, but you feel a blush creep up your neck despite yourself. It’s also stupidly late. And you’re tired.

You glance away from him as you hear footsteps outside the gym, and the doors open to reveal Kuroo and Bokuto, the latter twirling your car keys on his finger.

“We have hidden your car!” Bokuto announces triumphantly, and you shush him, only to find that he hasn’t actually disturbed any of the sleeping people behind you. Akaashi was right, you think as you glance at him again.

“Getting cozy while we were gone?” Kuroo grins, looking between you and Akaashi as the two close the doors behind them and walk up to you. You stand abruptly-- it’s the goddamn apocalypse, you don’t need a crush. Still, yet another blush creeps up your cheeks. Akaashi rolls his eyes as he stands up beside you.

“Where did you hide it?” Akaashi asks.

“Behind a tree.” Bokuto gives you your keys back.

“I should add, we also put some leaves over your car for added security.” Kuroo says, and you nod appreciatively.

“Just so long as you parked it near the gym, it should be out of sight from the street.” Akaashi yawns. You feel a wash of guilt at your realization that you’ve kept these guys up really late, after they’ve done who-knows-what kind of hard work during the day. Not everyone has your fucked up sleep schedule.

“Thank you so much-- um, I’m really sorry for keeping you guys up.” You say sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize!” Bokuto exclaims. “We were up when you got here anyways. Hey, here’s a question-- if your leg gets cut off--”

“We should get some sleep.” Kuroo cuts in. “As much as I’d love to hear her input on that topic, it can wait until the morning.”

Bokuto sighs in resignation, but rubs his eyes tiredly. He wanders over to his mattress and flops down, burrowing himself into his pile of blankets. Kuroo stretches, then stops abruptly as he whips around to look at you.

“Oh shit, where are you gonna sleep?” He asks you, then looks to Akaashi, who frowns.

“Oh, I can just sleep on the floor.” You wave your hand dismissively-- you really don’t want to put them out of any comfort.

“No.” The two boys say at once, and you’re a bit surprised at their severity. Bokuto is already snoring, much to your surprise.

“I’ll sleep on the floor-- you can sleep in my bed.” Akaashi offers, already pulling a blanket off of his mattress.

“Please, you can sleep in my bed.” Kuroo asserts, peeling off one of his own blankets. The two boys look at each other, and you could swear they were glaring.

“No!” You exclaim. “You guys already helped me enough-- plus, it’s cold as hell in here and sleeping on this cold floor is bound to make you sick, and you can’t get sick during the apocalypse-- do you know how easy it is to die from the common cold, especially when there’s no doctors around?!”

The two boys are a little taken aback by your exclamation, and so are you-- this is the most emotion you’ve shown in quite a while. You bite the inside of your cheek and frown, crossing your arms. “None of us are gonna sleep on the floor.” You assert, and Kuroo tosses his blanket back onto his bed.

“What do you suggest, then?” He asks, crossing his arms right back.

“You could sleep with one of us.” Akaashi says quietly, like that has zero implications whatsoever. Your eyes widen, and you’re so glad it’s dark in the gym because you’re sure that your face is as red as a tomato. Kuroo snickers.

“I’m down if you’re down.” He says teasingly, and raises his eyebrows at you.

“Up to you.” Akaashi adds quietly. Clearly, this decision is in your hands-- and you don’t want them to sleep on the floor, and you certainly don’t want to sleep on the floor yourself, and sharing a bed with one of them couldn’t possibly be that terrible, could it?

You gulp, and glance at the floor. Kuroo is hot, you’re not gonna lie-- you’re sure he pulled all the girls in school. He also seems like he’d be really nice to curl up against, since he’s much bigger than you are. And Akaashi, he already makes you feel safe. Plus, his broad shoulders and undeniably fit body cross your mind as you imagine how it’d feel to tuck your head under his chin...

You shake your head. Even though you are touch starved, you will not make things worse for yourself by imagining how it would feel to cuddle with any of these boys.

You clear your throat, aware of how long you’ve been silent.

“Um, I’ll sleep with Akaashi-- if, if that’s okay.” You mumble, hoping to any higher power that they can’t sense your immense embarrassment. Akaashi nods, though you don’t miss the almost triumphant look he tosses Kuroo’s way. The latter only shrugs, flopping down on his own mattress a couple beds over.

You bite your lip, unsure of where to look as you slip off your shoes, then begin to peel off your outer layers. Akaashi undoes his belt, and you look at him alarmingly. He looks confused for a second, then seems to realize what that might look like.

“U-um, I’m gonna keep my pants on.” He says, and it’s the first time you’ve heard him sound nervous. You nod quickly.

“Yeah, me too.” You hate sleeping in pants, especially jeans-- usually it’s a huge tee shirt and undies for you, but you are not about to strip down to only that with a boy you’ve only just met, no matter how cute he is. You slip off your socks, then sit on the mattress with your back to Akaashi. You feel the mattress dip as he sits down too, and you take a deep breath before laying down on your side, facing away from the boy next to you. He does the same, and you can feel the warmth of his backside against yours as the two of you are just inches apart.

The rain falls steadily above your heads, and after a moment, you feel Akaashi shift behind you, and a blanket suddenly finds itself draped over your body. You roll over onto your back just as Akaashi begins to pull away, and he shrugs.

“You said yourself we can’t afford to be cold.”

“Thanks… You have a blanket too, right?” You whisper. Akaashi doesn’t answer, but that in itself is an indication that he doesn’t. You pause, then toss a portion of it over him, only to find it’s just a bit too small to cover the both of you.

...Unless you scoot closer together. The two of you lock eyes with that realization, and you know that he has to be blushing as much as you are. You quickly face away, and he does the same, as the two of you scoot closer together so that your backs are pressing against each other. You take a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart as the warmth from Akaashi begins to spread throughout your whole body. You feel his breaths, which even out rather quickly. He must have been really tired.

You, on the other hand, are wide awake. Your heart won’t stop racing, which is super annoying. Still, you screw your eyes shut in the hopes that you’ll at least get some sleep tonight.

The rain continues falling, and eventually, you are lulled to sleep.

[-]

The first thing you register is a pleasant warmth and an even pleasanter smell. You instinctively nuzzle your face closer to it, and in response you feel whatever sensation that’s wrapped around you tighten its hold. You’re properly wrapped up, though you don’t know what’s around you or where you are. All you know is you’re extremely comfortable and happy.

As consciousness slowly seeps in, memories trickle in one by one: running down your stairs, frantically gripping your steering wheel, wandering around your abandoned high school, dropping your hammer on the concrete outside the gym while staring at--

You furrow your brows, and your eyes flutter open against your will-- you haven’t gotten nearly enough sleep, but you can’t stop waking up as you take in your surroundings.

Your face is currently burrowed into Akaashi’s chest, your head tucked under his chin. Your hands are actually curled into his white shirt, and as you let go of it bashfully, you find that his arms are wrapped around you-- one laid flat on the mattress beneath you, and the other resting over your waist.

A blush once again lights up your face as Akaashi shifts in his sleep, unconsciously pulling you closer. He lets out a contented sigh, and you feel a foreign tingle spread throughout your whole body. You bite your lip-- as sunlight slowly filters into the gym, you’re sure that no one else is awake yet, otherwise you would’ve been woken up to the sound of Kuroo teasing you and Akaashi to no end.

You can’t let the other guys see you and Akaashi like this-- you can’t handle the embarrassment. As much as you don’t want to wake Akaashi up, you have to. Biting your lip, you move to pull away from him, but almost instantly, he tightens his hold on you, and with a grunt, he rolls over onto his back, pulling you with him. You suck in a breath, trying to stay silent as you now rest on top of his chest, one of your legs between his.

You bury your face in his chest, completely unsure of what to do. He was so exhausted last night-- you don’t want to wake him up! Just as your mind begins to race for a flawless escape strategy, Akaashi groans and rubs one eye open.

“Mnf….” He says your name groggily, and you ignore how his gravelly voice sends tingles up your spine.

You decide to play dumb, and turn your head to the side with a big yawn.

“Hmm?” You answer quietly, and relax your body as much as you can. You feel Akaashi freeze in place beneath you, and he quickly removes his other hand from the small of your back.

“U-um… you’re… on top of me…” He mumbles, and you groggily lift your head to face him, making sure to keep your eyes lidded so that you can play this off effectively.

“Huh?” You furrow your brows as you meet Akaashi’s gaze, whose face is now bright red as the sun slowly illuminates the gym. You catch the subtle, perhaps accidental, glance he takes towards your chest, and realization hits you then.

You’re just in your undershirt… a tank top… and your chest is pressed against his… You can imagine exactly what kind of view he had just then as you quickly roll off of him, your arms crossing over your chest quickly.

You both stay very quiet, unsure of what to say to each other. You ignore how nice it felt to be held by him, and how much you didn’t really want to leave his embrace. God, how childish of you-- it’s just the fact that you’re starved for human interaction, that’s why you’re feeling like this.

Somebody yawns really obnoxiously a few beds over, and you look up just as someone hurls a pillow towards the offensive yawner.

“Can it, Shitty-kawa.” Somebody grumbles.

“I can’t even wake up without getting scolded, can I?” The yawner answers.

The gym slowly starts to stir as the sun grows brighter through the high, square windows. You sit up at the same time as Akaashi, and you both can’t help but glance back at one another bashfully. Reaching down, you pull your flannel over your now cold shoulders, and Indie gives your hand a good morning lick.

“Morning,” Kuroo yawns, and grins over at you and Akaashi. “Sleep well?”

You blush, and only mutter a “good morning,” back.

“Huh? Who’s that?” The yawner exclaimes, and you turn towards the sea of mattresses to spot a boy around your age-- also insanely cute, with somehow perfectly styled hair-- sit up and openly stare at you. “Hmm, nice one, guys. She’s pretty cute.” He grins, and you’re not quite sure how to respond to that.

“We’re just ignoring the social distancing rule now, huh?” The guy who threw the pillow sighs and sits up to look at you, as well. You feel like a deer in the headlights, so you look for any possible way to escape this conversation.

You shoot to your feet, and turn to Akaashi. “Where’s the bathroom?” You mumble, but Kuroo answers for him.

“Down that hallway, to the left. No-- sorry, right. That’s where the girls bathroom is. And the plumbing still works!” Kuroo grins, and you nod quickly, turning to rush off to the bathroom. Indie follows behind you loyally, and you hear the boys begin to talk about you openly as you run off.

“Yeah, we met her yesterday…”

“...showed up in tears…”

“...Call her cute again, see what happens, Shitty-kawa…”

You’re in the school bathroom before you know it, and you laugh wryly to yourself as the familiarity of it makes you almost feel like you’re back in school. Small groups of the dirty tiles are arranged in your school colors, and there’s still a very old flier hanging on one of the stall doors, advertising a school play that never happened.

You rush to the sinks, and turn on the cold faucet water. You grip the sides of the sink with ferocity, and dare to look at your reflection.

There was no way you looked cute in this moment. That guy was either extremely thirsty or a cruel liar-- your hair was matted, eyes drooped and tired. You’re sure that your dark circles never looked darker. A wave of embarrassment overcomes you at the realization that you slept next to cute Akaashi looking like this...

You shake yourself of those thoughts, and look at yourself with hardened resolve. You splash your face with cold water, and that wakes you up a bit. Deep breath in, deep breath out. This is only temporary, just until you can gather your thoughts, enough supplies, and enough courage to travel to Ohio alone. This is only temporary…

But it’s your life now.

[laur-rants]

Transfiguration -- Ch 1: Awake

Fandom: Doom Rating: Mature, because violence against demons Pairing: Sam/Slayer [eventually] Summary: The Slayer has beaten the Icon of Sin, but the work is far from over. There is still much, MUCH to be done. Notes: Yeah. I said I’d write Doom fanfic. Why? Because it’s gay to travel between dimensions and realms just to meet back up with the demigod you helped create, and are determined to save humanity because of him. Anyway enjoy I don’t know what I’m even doing with this. *throws it into the void* AO3 Link Next Chapter

---------- "There is a common saying among the peoples of humanity; 'history is written by the victors.' It is one of their species's constants, a phrase found across the divides. Thus, it can be gleaned that regardless of realms, of region, that history is full of lies. Only those who lost their respective battles yet still managed to survive those considered to be the holders of the more accurate accounts of events. But how many survivors never tell the truth? How many live in fear, unable to share the knowledge they have born witness to?

"I refute being a fearful survivor. Though the 'victors' may say otherwise, I was advised to disappear by the Father himself, to run from my own species in order to save it. The words of prophecy have been set into motion; there are coming events even he cannot stop. I have seen the future, infallible now. The battle is lost, but not the war.

I am Samur. I am the holder of the witnessed truth. I will profess it to you as long as I am alive, and as long as I am able.

Father, if you are listening, please have mercy on my consciousness."

-- Book of the Maykr Samur, pt 1

When he wakes up, it is not in the bed he fell asleep in. He stares up at the bright white of a too-clean ceiling, hears the steady beep of machinery and -- voices, there were voices nearby. Too many for him to still be in the lonely fortress he calls home, a fact that is enough to clear any fog clouding his mind. In one swift movement he's sitting up, his body aching and protesting this sudden change in verticality but he ignores the pain entirely, legs swinging over the side of the bed in an effort to move.

One of the earlier voices shouts, clearer and sharper now-- definitely real and not like the fabrications he's used to. He ignores them for now nonetheless; more urgent is the machinery yelling at him from the bedside. He frowns, pulling off cords and sensors, highly disapproving of the medical gown he's found himself in. Damnit, where the fuck is my suit, he thinks, even as a doctor with black hair and green eyes behind jeweled glasses rushes over to put a hand on his chest and try and push him back down to a prone position.

"Ah, sorry, mister Slayer, sir," the doctor fumbles, trying and failing to even budge the man, the wall of muscle staying stubbornly in place. The aforementioned Slayer watches her take a step back, purse her lips, then push against him, a little more insistently. "I really need you to lay back down. You're already starting to bleed through your bandages."

He blinks and looks down through the smock; most if not all of his upper body was bandaged and wrapped. A particular wrapping on his left arm was indeed bleeding, the pain barely registering even as the splotch of red grows, spreading fast through the fabric. He lets out a small noncommittal noise (causing the doctor to jerk back suddenly in surprise) as he starts to unwrap the bandages himself. A group of nurses and medical staff immediately crowd into the room, urging the Slayer to please stop, to let them handle such work.

Sure enough, as the medical staff peel away the sticky fabric, a nasty gash is revealed, running from the top of his bicep to the underside of his arm all the way to the armpit. It had been sutured shut but as the Slayer had stood up it had easily popped open and was now bleeding freely. He looks to the rolls of soaked bandages, looks to his seeping arm, and appears... apologetic, of all things. The doctor sighs, gives the man known only as the Doom Slayer a quick look over, then fetches new bandages and sutures.

"You're probably wondering why you're here, and have a lot of questions." She looks over to him, expecting some sort of response-- but when he says nothing or doesn't refute her words, she clears her throat, pushing a lock of hair behind an ear. "Or perhaps not. Either way, we received a distress signal, and found your ship. You were in a rough state, possibly connected to the recent fight with the Icon of... Sin…"

She trails off as she sees the Slayer's face harden like stone. She coughs lightly a second time, the color rising to her cheeks. "Apologies. The original transmission was sent by Dr. Hayden himself, so ARC forces immediately responded -- but we did not expect to find you in an alien ship bleeding out on the floor, nor did we expect to see it powered by the Crucible, or to hear Hayden communicating from--" The doctor continued on, but the Slayer was far past the point of listening. Instead, his brow furrows, trying to recall what had happened post attack.

The fight itself had been a blur. The demons had fallen before his wrath and Dr. Samuel Hayden had been in his ear, egging him on until the end, when finally the Icon was there, the only obstacle still standing. It was only so long before the huge titan of Hell itself was falling to his might. He had stood tall, victorious, fueled by rage and adrenaline. And then Hayden had portaled him back... but from there, his memory begins to blur. How had he been injured, exactly? Surely he had at least made it back to his room before--

"Slayer? Sir?"

His eyes flick to the doctor and again his gaze is enough to make her flinch. His fist clenches before relaxing again. He sighs. He closes his eyes, steadying himself, before tilting his head at her in question.

Her throat clears. "You zoned out, my apologies. I wanted to let you know that your stitches are fixed and you're rebandaged. We recommend a few days bed rest -- you may not feel the pain and you will not die from the wounds but--" her eyebrows go up, shaking her head in mild disbelief, "--regardless of your perceived immortality... you are human and you need rest. Now. Do you have any questions?"

The Slayer scowls at her, and the longer she waits for an answer the deeper the scowl grows. Eventually he rolls his eyes, then gestures to his body. She seems to get the hint.

"Oh, your suit?" He nods. "It is in the other room, currently being cleaned. We can bring it in here if you'd like?" The Slayer nods, then crosses his arms --carefully, so the doctor didn't have to re-stitch his arm a third time. "I can also assure you that your ship is secure; Hayden made sure of that, and he is also currently working with ARC scientists to repair the parts of his body that were broken."

As the woman talked, her face grew more flushed, and she continued to avert her eyes. It was at this point that the Slayer realized her voice was familiar. He scrutinizes her, unblinking, head tilted, arms still crossed, before he finally clears his throat, prompting her to stop any rambling she was currently involved in. She squeaks and her cheeks go a bright red, but it is enough to stop her momentarily.

"Oh! Do you need water? Can you speak?"

Not to you, lady, is what he would've said, but instead he simply thinks it to himself while managing to shake his head in response to both. He sighs, sitting back. When even was the last time he was in a hospital? It was more than a lifetime ago, on a different Earth, in a different realm, with different doctors with similar agendas looking him over, wondering his secrets when he argued that he had none to give.

Now he had too many secrets and a vow of silence keeping him from spilling any of them. Not that he'd want to, anyway. And definitely not to this doctor in over her head.

"Of course, of course. Well, ah, if you need anything, my name is Dr. Elena Richardson. Feel free to call if anything, anything at all, is needed." She pats his arm awkwardly and it clicks in his memory; the audio logs. Good Lord, it was her. He gives her a brief nod and smile before looking away and she backs off, blessedly leaving him alone.

He sits there.

Then, less than a minute later, Slayer decides he's been sitting long enough.

Lost in thought, he swings his legs over the side of the bed, taking in the surroundings more fully. His room was isolated, a few monitors tracking not only his vitals, but a few other things, such as blood type, foreign bodies, a chart detailing his wounds. The room smells too clean, like when someone needs to disinfect every inch of every surface, but at least it wasn't tainted with the smell of blood and corruption. At least, not yet.

Or perhaps, not anymore.

Perhaps there was a reason for the burning scent of bleach in his nose, after all.

His fingers tap against the mattress, keeping time with an unheard beat, but then the tempo quickens to impatience. This was not going to be a place he wanted to stay, and certainly not for a few more days, let alone a few more hours. He looks around, glances at the ceiling and windows, checks his condition, and plans.

------

In a different room, in a different part of the complex, in a very different condition...the body of Dr. Samuel Hayden awakens.

Well. Perhaps awaken is not the right word. Waking up implies the lack of a consciousness, whereas Hayden has always been quite aware of his surroundings. For the past seven years or so he's been vaguely aware of scientists watching his body, was even roughly aware of the Doom Slayer as he pulled the remnants of his body away from ARC tech, tossing him unceremoniously through a portal onto the fortress ship the Slayer called home. Things became much clearer and sharper after connecting with the ship and drawing power from it; however, there was a difference between living within the confines of a ship's mainframe for the better part of a month, and being within a body that now fully functioned, with joints that bent when he willed them to. Having a robot chassis did make life complicated sometimes… but being able to return to functional legs years after they'd been ripped off, was definitely a bonus.

With the return of his fully-functioning cyborg body, the sleek black-and-white frame towering 3 feet over the next tallest person, he did feel conscious again for the first time in years-- so if that counted towards "awake", then the word was fitting for his current mental state after all.

"Thank you, Simon," Hayden says, refitting his right arm with his left, his blue LED blinking bright inside his skull. The bald doctor, overseeing the reattachment of the arm, just nods, fixing his glasses. "I think for now, that'll be all. Keep studying the ship while you can; if it can help rebuild me, it can help rebuild others."

His voice was deep, warbled, slightly digital; like it was still getting used to speaking from the chassis, and not from the ship's internal comm system. Nevertheless the scientist didn't seem to mind. He just responds with "of course, sir," and heads off in the direction of the door, passing many other scientists deep in their work as he does so. Hayden rubs a wrist and, --as a few ARC scientists flit around him, removing cables and wires full of man-made Argent-- he takes his first steps with his new pair of legs.

"We have much to do," Hayden states, with an air of authority and urgency. "With the Icon of Sin dead, we need to move towards eradicating any remaining demonic forces before those in space can return to Earth." He turns to the nearest scientist, a woman with bushy red hair and freckles. "How is our guest holding up?"

"Richardson has reported that he is awake and responsive, but we do not know how long he will tolerate being subject to more tests. He's already popped sutures simply by trying to get up."

Hayden tilts his head. "How long ago was this report?"

"An hour ago now." She checks her notes and then looks up at the towering cyborg. "Why?"

As if on cue, an alarm goes off. Hayden looks over, checking a nearby monitor: as suspected, it's from Medical Bay H. The redhead looks incredibly concerned, her eyes going wide.

"O-oh," she says, as a hulking form of muscle and sinew, dressed only in a medical gown, struts past a security camera. The subject looks around then walks up to a nearby doctor, tapping them on the shoulder before "borrowing" their key card lanyard. He uses it on a nearby door, tossing the lanyard back to doctor before entering the room and surveying the object of his desire: a powerful space-faring suit of alien make and design.

Hayden sighs. Of course. He turns away and walks towards the door.

"Sir?" Says the scientist manning the security camera. "Should we… can we… stop him?" There was a futility to his tone; everyone here had a right to be concerned. Even if the humans in ARC weren't corrupt or demonic, the collateral damage the Doom Slayer could cause was well-documented. The hole Mars now sported was evidence enough of what he was capable of.

"Invite him to see me in Complex Wing B, room 235. Don't try and stop him; I can guarantee you won't be able to." There's a dark chuckle there, a dry amusement, but Hayden shakes his head anyway. He continues his trajectory, leaving the room where had been reassembled, opening up a comm line with the Slayer directly.

"Long time no see, so to speak. How about we meet, face to face, one more time? There's much we need to discuss."

[miss-noo-na]

Sit Next To Me ( BM/Jae smut)

Title: Sit Next To Me

Featuring: BM (Kard) x Jae (Day6) x Reader

Rating: NC-17. Drinking & threeways!

Summary: You’re on vacation, staying in a summer home with two of your best friends. Things get a little too relaxed after a night of booze. 

Note: This story was a commission. If you would like one of your own, see the “request” link in my info!

When you entered the beach house you dropped your bags immediately, heading for the large windows at the other side of the living room, throwing open the curtains and taking in the sight of a blue ocean and pale sand. You sighed as you pressed your forehead against the glass, drinking in the beautiful scene.

As you listened to the waves crashing outside, you realized how quiet it was inside.

“I must be the first one here,” You thought, standing up straight again. Before you could turn, you felt a pair of arms encircle your waist and hoist you off the ground as you shrieked.

“Surprise!” A familiar voice said, and when you recognized it you started to pry at the hands.

“Matthew put me down!” You demanded as he carried you away from the window and dropped you on the couch.

“Nice to see you, too.” He smiled down at you.

You had been friends for a long time, though you hadn’t seen much of each other lately. You were both busy, him for obvious reasons, but you having your own things going on. It was rare you ever found yourself in the same city at the same time, so you couldn’t even meet up for coffee like old times. When he told you he was renting a vacation home for a week with some mutual friends, you jumped at the opportunity, not just to see him again but also to get away from work and life.1

“This place is great,” You commented, standing to fetch your bags. “Where’s my room?”

“Anywhere you like, you get first dibs,” He gestured down the hall and you bounded away before he could even finish the sentence. You went for the master, naturally. It had an amazing view and a private bathroom, everything you could have ever wanted.

“Have you talked to the others?” He called down the hall, and after dropping your things and staking your claim, you came back into the living room.

“I was texting with Jae this morning, I think his flight got in about a half hour ago.” You said, pulling your phone out of your back pocket to see if there were any updates.

Through someone as charismatic as Matthew, it was only natural you would come to befriend those he befriended, and since Jae ran in the same circles as you both, it was no surprise you clicked with him right away. The three of you didn’t get to spend time as a group that often, but you were constantly hitting each other up online and had probably one of the best group chats on the planet, they both constantly had you laughing out loud in inappropriate places. Knowing you would all be in the same house together soon filled you with ecstatic, happy butterflies.

“Oh cool, he’s on his way,” You smiled when you read your most recent texts.

“So how’ve you been?” You asked, plopping down on the couch and inviting him to sit and chat, which he did.

“Tired.” He laughed, “Busy, but good.”

“I bet, this is just what we all needed.” You nodded, then glanced toward the kitchen, and he spoke up as if reading your mind.

“I got in early and went shopping, there’s plenty of food and booze.” He said, and you smiled wide and reached over to pat him on the shoulder.

“I knew I could depend on you.”

One or two at a time, more friends arrived, people you were familiar with and some you weren’t, friends of friends, but Matthew assured you it wasn’t going to get too crowded. Jae arrived and you jumped up to give him a hug.

“Oh, he gets a hug and I get a “put me down, put me down.” Matthew commented, making his voice higher and whinier to mock you.

“He’s nicer than you.”  You teased and Jae laughed, “Yeah, duh. We all know I’m her favorite.”

Matthew scrunched up his face in your direction before leaving to tend to his guests.

“What’s up?” You turned back to Jae, helping him take a bag.

“Same ol’. Exhausted, ready to do nothing. Hey, is that bedroom taken?” He asked, peering down the hall.

“No dice, it’s mine.” You grinned triumphantly.

“Of course it is.” He deadpanned as he started down the hall to find something for himself.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind me being your neighbor, then.” He said, kicking the door across the hall open with his foot.

“I prefer it, actually.” You said, following him in to hand off one of his bags. Jae collapsed on the bed with a sigh and laid back, so you came to sit next to him.

“It’s supposed to be a party and everyone looks like they’re ready to nap.” You laughed, looking down at him. His face was serene, eyes closed under his glasses and hair tousled.  When he wasn’t talking he looked awfully cute, in a boyish way.

“Man, a nap sounds great.” He sighed again.

“Nope, not today.” You said, standing and pulling on one of his arms as you did so. He groaned and let himself be dead weight.

“I thought I was on vacaaaaation.” He whined, not relenting or even opening his eyes.

“We’ll sleep when we’re dead. Come on,” You tugged again, and finally he bowed forward and pulled himself to his feet.

“Fine.” He said in a mock-aggressive tone. You slapped him on the back twice, “That’s the spirit!”

When you had returned, most of the guests had found their quarters and were congregating in the kitchen. Snacks had been haphazardly tossed onto the counter because Matthew was more preoccupied with making drinks. You took it upon yourself to help out, finding some bowls and setting out chips and whatever else you could find. He shot you a smile from across the way, a silent thanks for the help, and you felt appreciated for your effort.

“My co-hostess also deserves a drink.” He approached later after he had gotten everyone else squared away, handing you something mixed in a cup.

“What’s this?” You asked, sniffing the concoction, the stinging sweetness hitting your nostrils.

“Just my famous jungle juice, which is a secret.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you as he took a drink from his own cup. You didn’t trust it for a moment, knowing it was probably full of all kinds of things that could get you fucked up, but then you remembered you were secluded in a cushy beach house with friends and a bedroom mere feet away. You shrugged and took a drink.

It burned all the way down, but it wasn’t as bad as you thought, and you nodded in approval. “Okay, strong but not disgusting. Good job.”

“I’m glad you’re pleased, madam.” He bowed forward.

“Make Jae one.” You said, tipping your chin in the punch bowls direction.

“Are we sure his skinny ass can handle it?” He said with a smirk.

“Hey!” Jae yelled from across the room, which made you chuckle.

Once the glass was poured, you brought it over to where Jae sat on the couch, nudging his leg with yours so he could make room for you. He scooted, and you plopped down, handing him the cup.

“This is gross” He scowled after his first drink.

“Well I’m sorry it's not whatever fancy champagne they put in your dressing rooms.” You rolled your eyes.

“Are you accusing me of being bougie? Me?” He feigned offense, placing his other hand on his chest.

“I’m just saying, you might be getting too comfortable these days.” You gave him a sideways glance as you took a sip. You were mostly pulling his leg, but he didn’t need to know that yet.

“Whatever! I’m as down to earth as I’ve ever been. You wanna go to McDonalds? I will eat a big mac in front of you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. He always found a way to amuse you.

As the night wore on, chill music pumped from a stereo in the corner and the overall mood was relaxed, with occasional fits of laughter at a joke or a story. You felt warm, the alcohol working its way over your body to relax you and give you a flighty feeling. You stopped before you hit your limit, because you enjoyed the nice buzz you had going, still aware but a little more loose, your words and your thoughts flowing freely, tension easing.

People started to break off into groups or head to bed, and you found yourself alone for a moment, until you spotted Matthew in the room adjacent to the living room. You hadn’t ventured in there yet, but when you did you saw it was a theater room, with a couch that looked more like a bed, cushions long and wide enough to lay on, which is exactly what he was doing.

“This is so cool!” You almost shouted,  letting yourself fall down on the cushions next to him. He laughed, rolling toward you. His eyes were half open and he looked comfortable.

“Are you sleepy?” You asked, reaching up to push your hands through his hair. He closed his eyes and  hummed in response, nodding his head.

“Your jungle juice was too strong, huh?” You giggled.

“No way, it was perfect.” He mumbled, opening his eyes.

“Jae thought it was gross.”

“Jae is gross.” He shot back.

“Are you talking about me?” You heard a voice enter the room.

“Jae, come lay down, it’s so comfy.” You said happily, patting the spot next to you.

He circled the couch and much like you, let himself fall on his back on the other side of you.

“Oh no.” He said, staring up at the ceiling.

“What?”

“It’s so comfy, I can’t move.”

“I told you.”

“Who invited him?” Matthew asked, opening his eyes fully.

“Hey, you leave him alone.” You smacked him playfully, surprised then when he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.

“I haven’t seen you in months.” He breathed against your neck, sending a chill down your spine. You laughed awkwardly to conceal it.

“Well, neither has Jae. Right, Jae?”

Jae opened his eyes and lulled his head toward you, then narrowed his vision in confusion at what he saw.

“Yeah, you’re not the only one she hasn’t spent any time with.”

“She likes me more.” Matthew smiled, squeezing you tighter and burying his head between your neck and shoulder, then nuzzled his nose against you. “Right, baby?”

This wasn’t the first time he had been flirtatious with you, especially while drinking, but this felt different. It was a mishmash of feelings, complicated by how much you were enjoying it.

You reached down, pulling his hands off you and turning onto your back so you could face him, thinking it would help. Instead you were now incredibly close to him, almost nose to nose as he looked down at you.

“I like you both.” You said, trying to go along with the joke but it came out in a different way.  Matthew was smirking, and getting closer.

“How much?” He asked in a mischievous drawl. You couldn’t answer even if you wanted to, because his lips connected with yours, melting down into you and you took it in, letting him kiss you slow and deep. Your eyelids fluttered for a moment in surprise, but thanks to the alcohol and the lush feeling of his mouth you found yourself not just surrendering to it, but actively responding.

It was a kiss that made your cheeks feel hot and mind dizzy, and when he pulled back you had almost forgotten where you were, opening your eyes and peering over at Jae, who still laid stock-still on his back only now he stared, eyes much wider than before.

“That’s my queue, ladies and gentleman.” He said, pushing himself up to leave.  

You reached out and grabbed his shirt sleeve, tugging him back. “Don’t go.”

He laughed, “You want me to sit here and watch you make out with my friend? I’m good.”

You trailed your fingertips down his arm and felt a shiver go through him.

“I want you to stay.”

You didn’t entirely know why you were saying what you were saying, you just knew you really wanted him here with the both of you.

“Yeah, it’s your turn.” Matthew said in a teasing tone, yet somehow completely serious at the same time.

Jae glanced at you over his shoulder and you grinned.

“Come here,” You said softly, tugging on his arm again. He looked reluctant, but he gently laid back down facing you, blinking at you in anticipation.

You reached out and caressed his jaw and neck, and were relieved when he relaxed under your touch. Your thumb and grazed over his lips and he lowered his eyelids, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Do you want to kiss me?” You asked quietly.

“Of course he does.” Matthew laughed behind you, and you smiled but mostly ignored the comment, waiting for his response.

It came in the form of him leaning forward, pushing past your hands and planting his mouth against yours. The first thing you thought was how different it felt kissing him than Matthew, softer and more tender, but you enjoyed both. He didn’t hesitate as much as you thought he would, already seeking entrance to your mouth, the tip of his tongue meeting yours. You almost jumped out of your skin when you felt another pair of lips against the back of your neck, Matthew’s hand laying on your hip and pulling you back against him.

A little voice in the back of your mind was screaming that this was crazy, but it was drowned out by the pleasure that rushed over your skin like warm honey, enveloped by the touches and kisses of both men at either side of you.

One seemed to spur on the other unknowingly. When Jae deepened his kiss, Matthew’s nips and sucks got more insistent along your neck and shoulders. When Matthew tugged you back against his hips, Jae’s hands found their way to your neck, falling down your chest to your breasts to be groped. Your senses were overwhelmed, but you didn’t want it to slow down, you just wanted to see how much further it would go, how much pleasure they could give.

When you were finally able to come up for some air you were panting, your entire body on fire.

“Can I…” Jae swallowed and seemed to stop himself, realizing what exactly was happening and searching your face for some kind of confirmation. You had an idea of what he wanted, by the way his fingertips fidgeted around the edge of your shirt, but he almost looked too shy to ask and that made you want to kiss him again.

You nodded, guiding his hands where you knew he wanted them, and at the same time felt Matthew’s teeth sink into your neck. When he saw your shirt coming off over your head, he laughed.

“These might as well go, too.” He said, slipping his fingers inside the waistband of your pants, but waiting for your approval. You gave him a coy look over your shoulder, and he took you by the jaw to kiss you as his other hand tugged the garment over your hips and down your thighs.

“What are we doing?” Jae laughed awkwardly, and when you turned back to him you saw the way his eyes scanned the entirety of your body, now only in your bra and panties.

“Whatever we feel like.” Matthew said, “It’s our vacation.”

Despite this, you could tell Jae continued to look unsure, more-so like he wanted so much more but was afraid to go after it. You took his hands in yours and brought them to your torso.

“You can touch me, it’s okay.” You grinned as you pecked him on the mouth.

Getting your blessing eased his anxiety, leaning in to plant kisses along your collarbone as he explored with his hands. Matthew was unsurprisingly more bold, listening and feeling for your responses and acting accordingly.  He trailed his fingertips down your spine before grabbing your ass, then sliding them under the flimsy fabric.

You gasped and arched back when you felt him brush against your folds, his index and middle finger wiggling their way in from behind. He pressed on your entrance, your juices coating his digits.

“God, you’re wet.” He breathed, like this was the realization that this wasn’t a joke anymore and he was really about to do this to you, and you both wanted it.

“It’s kind of hard-” You stopped to mewl as his fingers started to press into you, “n-not to be, oh god.”

“I’m being honest when I say I’ve never thought about what you sound like when you moan.” Matthew started, the satisfaction on his face apparent, “But I’m so glad I know now.”

There was no longer any mistaking how turned on all three of you were, throwing all caution aside and letting yourself give into it. This of course meant you wanted to be bold too, and took the opportunity when you saw the way Jae’s face flushed and he started to squirm listening to you moan while Matthew fucked you with his fingers.

You touched his chest first, dragging your hand down to the front of his pants, and he watched helplessly, his cheeks turning an even brighter shade of red.

“You don’t have to d-”

You silenced him with your mouth on his, your tongue pushing past his lips to roll over his, happy with how he groaned into your mouth as you undid the front of his pants and slipped your hand inside.

Jae sucked in a sharp breath as you wrapped your fingers around him, applying pressure as you started to stroke. You met his eyes, and drank in the sight of each other consumed in pleasure, your hands on him while Matthew worked you over from behind. He didn’t like being left out, though, and you could hear him fumbling around behind you with his other hand, though his fingers never stopped their deliberate massaging motion against your inner walls.

You knew exactly what he’d been doing when his length pressed hot and hard against your lower back, and you rocked back into him again. He brought his mouth back to your neck, kissing his way up to your ear.

“I wanna fuck you.”

You almost choked on air at his words, gripping Jae a little harder in your hand, your stomach dropping with a mixture of nerves and excitement. Could you really let him do that? Right here and now on this couch with Jae right in front of you? A small rational piece of your mind tried to warn you of the potential danger of this, how things might change, but arousal was clouding your judgement and you just wanted him inside you.

You pressed your hips back into him, using your free hand to pull your panties off. He hooked his hand inside your thigh and pulled your legs apart, nudging your entrance with the head of his cock.

“Are you sure?”

You looked back at him and nodded, letting a sly smile curl over your mouth as you rocked yourself back and forth, letting him feel it. His brow creased and he moaned, not needing anything else as he slid himself inside you.

You turned back and gasped, clawing at Jae’s shoulder with one hand and stroking him harder with the order. His eyes had fallen shut as he pushed his hips forward into your grip, falling into you and pressing his mouth against your shoulder.

The angle was awkward at first, but Matthew was able to find a steady rhythm holding your thigh and pushing himself inside you before drawing back and doing it again. From here, he was able to thrust up into a spot inside you that had your eyes squeezing shut and your nails digging into Jae’s shoulder, which he didn’t seem to mind, too lost in his own feelings.

Matthew’s hand moved, gliding over your lower abdomen before reaching around and between your legs where he could press his fingertips over your clit. He knew exactly what he was doing and you almost wanted to fight against it, that’s how good it felt.  Instead, you took it, and met him when you could, rolling your hips back and loving the sounds it brought out of him. Alternatively, you also reveled in how just your hand was bringing Jae to the edge and he was whimpering into your neck, rocking forward to seek more friction.

“I’m close,” Matthew ground out through his teeth, “But you need to come first.”

“Harder,” You insisted in a whine, and he chuckled breathlessly.

“You like it rough, eh?” He asked, clearly amused despite his mounting orgasm. With that, he pulled back and slammed himself in, picking up the pace and rubbing you faster. You could barely keep your grip on Jae now, eyes closed as you focused on your release. He didn’t mind, though, pulling back to watch your face, feeling your heat and wanting it just as badly as you did.

“Come on, baby.” He whispered to you, bringing his mouth close to yours. “That’s it.”

You pulled in a lungful of air before it came out in a long, desperate moan of release as your orgasm rocked your body. Matthew pulled your hips back and you down on his cock as he worked your orgasm out of you with his other hand. As you started to come down, Jae took your face in his hands and kissed you.

“Fuck, yes.” Matthew growled, giving a few more hard thrusts against your pulsing walls before pulling out and releasing on his lower abdomen. He pressed his forehead against your back and panted.

You took a moment to regain your breath and thoughts before you threw a leg over Jae’s hips and rolled him over you. Matthew lay on his back  next to you, breathing hard and recovering. When he glanced over he laughed at the bewildered look on Jae’s face now that he was on top of you.

“Fuck me,” You told him with a smile, and Jae blinked down at you.

“Are y-”

He was about to question you just like Matthew had, but you didn’t have patience for his dorky nice guy hesitation, even though you did appreciate it.

Instead, before he could finish the thought, you reached down and took him into your hand and guided him inside you, pressing your hips up so he would sink all the way in at once.

“You su-holy shit.” He finished in a shaky moan, which had you suppressing a giggle.

You knew he wasn’t going to last long, not with the way you’d been teasing him with your hand before, bringing him right to the edge but not letting him finish. You didn’t mind, though, and now made it your mission to make him come undone.

Once Jae got his bearings he began to thrust, and ended up dropping down, finding his favorite place nestled in your neck again. He liked being close, cocooned into you completely, and it made you feel warm and wanted.

Matthew was sleepy and coming out of his buzz, and he simply watched, intrigued as you tugged at Jae’s hair and encouraged him.

“Ah, ah,” He whined against your skin as you rolled your hips against him, pulling him deeper with your legs. Finally he jerked forward and let out a low moan, his whole body tensing up, then relaxing all at once. 

He laid there panting for a moment, finally finding the strength to pull out and fall back to his original place.

“And this is only the first night.” Matthew quipped with a devious grin.

[supermantv]

the sound of i need you (chap. 2)

chap. 1 | ao3 link

Because he is a gentleman and the streetlights have quickly become the only source of light, Paxton offers Devi a ride home. She thanks him, only a little flustered, but declines his offer, gesturing to her scooter that is laying a few feet away. They live in a relatively safe neighborhood with a low crime rate, but he's still allowed to worry.

Devi leaves first upon his insistence. Paxton watches her retreating figure carefully and climbs into his car only after she's entirely out of his line of sight.. He rests his hands on the steering wheel and takes a deep breath. His thoughts are on the fritz. Paxton is secretly glad that Devi decided not to take him up on his offer to drive her home. He doesn't waste time worrying about it though and starts the car. He fears that if he doesn't start driving now, he won't be able to soon, too busy being preoccupied with never-ending thoughts of her.

When Paxton gets home, his phone comes to life, buzzing obnoxiously in his back pocket. He fishes it out as Becca arrives at the front door to greet him.

"You're late," she points out.

Paxton lifts a brow. "I don't have a curfew?" It is meant to be a definite statement, but comes out as a confused question.

"You're twenty minutes late," Becca says simply. "It's never taken you this long to drive home after practice."

Paxton grins and shakes his head. "Wow, stalker much? It's kinda creepy how much you track my movements, Becca."

His sister huffs. "It's not creepy. You're just boring and predictable."

He feels his jaw hit the floor. He has been called many things. Devilishly handsome, breathtakingly gorgeous, highly attractive. But never in his life has Paxton Hall-Yoshida been accused of being boring and predictable. And he knows his sister likes to mess with him, but wow, this is a devastating blow to his ego.

"I am not boring," he says firmly. "Or predictable."

"Oh, yeah?" Becca narrows her eyes at him.

"Yeah," he says indignantly.

"I'll prove to you right now just how predictable you are."

"Hey! Give me my phone back you little brat!" He shouts but he's not angry. In fact, he's suppressing his own laughter at his sister's antics. He chases after her.

Becca has positioned herself on the opposite side of the kitchen, wisely putting the dining table between them. She has a perfect view of him, enabling her to see any move he may make. He respects her intelligence begrudgingly, and bides his time until he's able to make a grab for his phone.

"You were looking at your phone when you walked through the door," Becca says. "So, I'm guessing someone texted you. And to prove that you are predictable, I'm going to unlock your phone, and I won't be surprised when I see it's a text from some random girl, asking if you want to hang out with her. And this will also prove that you're boring, because all the girls you date are basically interchangeable and one in the same."

Paxton feels a smirk begin to form, because there is one thing his sister hadn't thought of. "You don't know my passcode."

Becca clicks her tongue. "Uh, yes I do, because you're predictable." Becca stresses the word like it is the most obvious thing in the world and giggles.

Paxton groans loudly. "Look, I didn't see who texted me, but this is a violation of my rights."

Becca doesn't reply, fingers busy typing in his passcode. She cheers triumphantly a second later, and he takes that as confirmation that she wasn't lying, and he is predictable, because he has never told anyone that his phone's password is his birthday, but now that he thinks about it, maybe it is a little on the nose.

"Oh!" Becca exclaims, her eyes widening as she scans his screen. Paxton's head snaps up, alarmed and a little frightened at what she may have found.

"What?" He asks, somewhat nervous, because for all he knows, his sister is simply messing with him, but he can't be too sure.

Becca meets his eyes accusingly, but when she speaks, she's smiling widely. "Why didn't you tell me you were talking to Devi again?"

"What?"

"Devi!" Becca grins at him. She slides his phone across the table to him, and his eyes scan his most recent message.

'hey! we forgot to schedule a time to meet up, so i was wondering if tomorrow after school was good? i'm okay with any location. your bedroom. my bedroom. ;) that's a joke btw, lol. just let me know!'

"Your bedroom. My bedroom," Becca says. "Sounds like things are heating up, huh?"

Paxton does his best to will away the blush beginning to form on his cheeks and rolls his eyes. "Calm down, it's not like that. Devi's just messing around."

"Uh-huh." She doesn't sound even a little convinced. "So, why are you meeting up with Devi then?"

Paxton tilts his head back, and focuses on the ceiling of the kitchen. "Devi's uh, going to be my tutor for History."

He is deliberately not looking at Becca so he doesn't have to bear witness to her reaction.

"That's great! She's kind of weird-", a lot weird, "-but she's also super smart, right? How did you even have time to ask her? Oh my God, is that why you were late coming home?"

"Yeah-."

"Wait! I thought you guys were caught up in this really weird fight? Did you two make up?"

Paxton clears his throat and says awkwardly, "I don't know if I would call it a fight necessarily."

"Then what would you call it?"

I would call it, I'm an idiot, Paxton thinks to himself bitterly.

"Nothing," Paxton sighs, finally lowering his eyes to meet her gaze.

Becca offers him a small smile and changes the subject. "Well, even though you are a little predictable, you've successfully proven that you're not completely boring."

"Shut up," Paxton laughs, swiping at her from across the table.

The next day at school, Devi approaches him at his locker.

"Good morning," she chirps brightly.

He takes in her appearance. Rumpled clothing, mismatched socks, helplessly tangled hair. Tired eyes, sagging shoulders, wary smile. He doesn't know why this causes bile to rise in the back of his throat.

"I don't think you've had such a good morning," he comments dryly.

Devi's exhaustion quickly bleeds into embarrassment. She does her best to smooth down her clothes and comb her fingers through her hair, but her efforts are futile, because if anything, she only looks more of a mess.

"Um, it was a late night," Devi finally says sheepishly.

"I bet," Paxton nods, unable to keep the snark out of his voice. "Hot date with Gross?"

Devi's brows crinkle in confusion. "No. I was up all night preparing everything for our study session today."

"Oh."

He's such a fucking jerk.

Awkward silence falls over them.

"Sorry," he murmurs.

"Um, it's okay." Devi expertly steers the conversation in a new direction, adjusting the bag slung over her shoulder. "So," she prompts. "You never answered me last night. Where do you want to study?"

Paxton mulls it over. He's never been inside Devi's house, but considering her mom is decidedly not a member of the Paxton fan club, he's not even sure he wants to set a single toe through the door.

His house doesn't seem like an appropriate alternative either. He can imagine them studying in his room, a dozen papers strewn across the bed. He can imagine Devi speaking, overflowing with knowledge and eager to share with him. He can imagine himself zoning out, eyes drawn to her lips. He can imagine a faint blush crawling across her cheeks, as she realizes he's staring at her mouth, but she'll pretend she doesn't notice and chide him for not listening. He can imagine cutting her off with a chaste kiss. He can imagine pulling back, searching her eyes for permission and being met with a soft smile and a dazed look. He can imagine diving back in, desperate for the taste of her lips on his tongue, and the feel of her body melting into his and-.

Paxton pulls himself from his fantasy before it goes any further, clearing his throat.

"Um, we could study in the library," he offers.

"Oh!" Devi nods in agreement. "That's a good idea. You'll probably be more productive in a more structured environment anyway. And there are more resources available in the library."

"Yeah," Paxton says slowly. "I was thinking the same thing."

"Good idea," she praises, beaming at him.

Paxton feels his face flush. "Yeah so, I've gotta go find my coach before the bell rings, so I'll see you later, Devi."

Devi flashes finger guns at him. "Catch ya later, Pax Attack."

Paxton shakes his head. "Er, you might want to work on that nickname."

She winces and nods. "Noted."

Devi is already waiting for him in the library, and does not look amused when he finally arrives ten minutes late. Sheepishly, he slides into the chair across from her, trying to put as much distance between them as possible, because if he were to sit right next to her, the chances are high he might do something extremely impulsive.

Devi is all business and sass when she speaks.

"I can see you're taking this very seriously."

Paxton bows his head guiltily. "Sorry. I would have been here sooner but Trent needed me for something."

Which isn't a total lie. Trent did need advice on "the ladies" and Paxton was dubbed the man with the most expertise. But, Trent's question was quick and stupid, and it was all Paxton could do to keep from strangling him when Trent suggested that lavender scented deodorant was an appropriate gift for a girl.

"But she's like, super athletic, dude. She's the star of the tennis team!"

Paxton pegs him with an incredulous stare, because his friend cannot possibly be serious. "That doesn't mean she'll want some guy buying her deodorant."

"But why not?" Trent demands, frustrated. "It's practical and thoughtful."

"She'll punch you."

"But why?"

Paxton shakes his head and walks away.

Truth be told, he spent a good seven minutes pacing in the hall outside of the library, inciting more than a few curious stares in his direction.

He's nervous about being so close to her after weeks of ensuring that she'd never get the opportunity to approach him.

He's nervous that she'll bring it up after they've spent an absurdly long time poring over textbooks and making flashcards.

And he's especially nervous that once they get started and she sees how little he knows about AP World History, she won't be interested in him at all.

But, Devi doesn't need to know all of that.

Devi rolls her eyes, but she's smiling faintly. "Okay. First order of business. Turn your phone off and give it to me."

Paxton's hand flies to where his phone rests in his back pocket. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. I don't want you to be distracted by anything. And as an act of solidarity, I'll turn mine off too."

Paxton has no doubt that the biggest distraction of all will definitely prove to be her, but he complies easily and after shutting off his phone, places it in her outstretched hand.

"Excellent," Devi nods approvingly. "I'm going to put your phone in my bag if that's okay with you."

"Go ahead."

After she is finished putting their phones away, nestled safely in the front pocket of her book bag, she slams a huge, at least three inch thick binder stuffed with a gazillion papers onto the table. Paxton gazes at with wide, fearful eyes as Devi pats it fondly.

"I spent all night organizing this," she states proudly.

He grimaces. "Devi, you did not have to do all that. Really."

Devi laughs at his reaction. "Don't worry. This is more for my benefit than yours, just so I know what to cover with you. I was serious about helping you get a good grade on the midterm."

Paxton's shoulders sag with relief.

"So," Devi begins, flipping open her binder. "Where do you think you're struggling most? MCQ's, SAQ's, DBQ's, or LEQ's?"

He swallows. "Um. All of it? Anything with writing is a little more difficult, but yeah."

Devi hums thoughtfully and continues rifling through papers. "Okay. Personally, I also think the essay questions are a little more complex, so we can begin there. Do you think you're struggling more with the subject material or applying your knowledge into a cohesive argument?"

"I don't know," Paxton groans, because already, he feels the familiar wave of anxiety and indecisiveness that rushes over him whenever he's taking a test.

"That's okay." Devi smiles at him encouragingly. "Do you have your old tests with you?"

Paxton nods.

"We can start there."

They spend two hours together in the library after school that day, half of it spent with Devi mulling over all of the returned tests he'd given her. Paxton shifts in his seat restlessly, because she hasn't given him anything to study, and she's also revoked his phone privileges. But mostly he's antsy because there's only one test in the pile that he'd gotten a B- on, two, maybe three C's, and the rest are low D's and a couple F's. And she, arguably the smartest girl in the class, is now looking at his piss poor essays and reading them intently.

Occasionally, she will mutter under her breath, and he's not sure if he's supposed to be paying attention, listening for potentially valuable advice.

"That's not the year Constantine came into power. Never write dates unless you're absolutely positive. Points aren't rewarded for a correct date, but are deducted for an incorrect one."

Or:

"Your argument was getting there, but you ran out of time. Don't worry about erasing or trying to spell things correctly. Cross things out. The person who grades your exam will skip over it, they have hundreds of other tests to grade and they're trying not to waste time. Get as close to the spelling of a word as possible and don't sweat it. Most likely someone will know what you mean."

And:

"There was no point in name dropping Seward's Folly on the imperialism essay, because you never connected it back to the main argument. Don't waste time mentioning events if they don't contribute to the central idea."

Helpful tips like this that only aid in crushing his confidence and self-esteem. She means well though. And she is right.

After she's finished reading all of his essays, Devi slips into the seat next to him and their shoulders brush. Paxton forgets how to breathe for two seconds.

"Okay, I think we should go over them together now that I've gotten a grasp of your writing capabilities, and I can point out where and why you went wrong."

And so they spend another hour going over writing Paxton would have been very fine with never rereading.

Everytime he notices a misspelled word he feels the tips of his ears catch fire.

More than once, he finds that he's mixed up timelines and dates, and he's embarrassed.

For every essay that doesn't have a coherent thesis or line of reasoning he wants to curl up into a ball and quit school entirely.

"Overall," Devi says once they've made it through his third LEQ, and seventh piece of writing in total. "It's not bad. But you're clearly struggling with taking a stance on the prompt, and the indecisiveness is reflected in your poor evidence and backing. You can't defend an argument you don't have."

Paxton nods. "Okay. So. How do I fix that?"

"Well, it's clear to me you don't really have a problem with the actual course material. Occasionally you can get confused with dates or times periods, but I think that's mostly because you get in your head too much. I can help with test taking strategies and ways to combat nerves next time."

Devi glances at the clock nestled in the wall opposite of them.

"I actually have to go. I told my cousin I would go shopping with her today." She shrugs apologetically at him. "Sorry."

Paxton waves her off. "No worries. We can pick this up again tomorrow?"

"Sure!" Devi agrees enthusiastically, but quickly becomes sheepish and meek. "Also. Would you mind giving me a ride?"

Paxton lifts a brow. "Am I your chauffeur now?"

Devi purses her lips. "Weeeell," she drawls, "I am tutoring you for free."

Paxton shakes his head, smiling fondly. "Sure. Grab your stuff, let's go."

On the way to her house, they lapse into silence. Devi'd asked permission to keep his tests overnight so that she could read them over and add her own notes. Paxton doesn't want them, so there really is no inner turmoil in handing them over to Devi. She spends the car ride flipping through them, and he spends the drive focused on the road.

When they come to a stop in front of her house, she doesn't even notice.

Paxton clears his throat and Devi lifts her head.

He smiles playfully at her. "We have arrived at your destination, m'lady."

She goes along with it, bowing her head in gratitude. "Why, thank you, good sir."

They share a laugh as Devi packs away her belongings, and he expects her to exit the car, but she doesn't. She catches her lower lip in her teeth and glances at him warily. Paxton suddenly feels uneasy and more than a little nauseous with the look she is giving him.

"Something wrong?" He's doing his best to keep his voice steady, ignoring the hammering of his heart in his chest.

"Yeah," Devi says slowly. "Earlier… Why did you make that comment about me and Ben?"

He feigns ignorance. "I don't remember saying anything."

"Don't lie."

He wilts under her steely gaze.

"Why would I be on a date with Ben?"

His knuckles become white with how tightly he is gripping the steering wheel. "Why wouldn't you be on a date with Ben?" He challenges.

Devi's brows furrow and her tone is exasperated. "You're not making any sense. Stop talking in circles, it's a simple question."

"You're the one playing dumb!" Paxton accuses. "Why wouldn't you be on a date with your boyfriend?!"

"Boyfriend?!" Devi shrieks loudly in his ear. "I am not dating Ben Gross! That's gross!"

Paxton nearly gives himself whiplash with how quickly he turns his head to stare at her, flabbergasted. "What do you mean you're not dating him?!"

"Why would you think I'm dating him?!"

"Because you kissed him!"

"Oh my God, Paxton, that doesn't mean I'm contractually obligated to date him!"

"But I mean!" Paxton gestures wildly with his hands, increasingly flustered as he comes to terms with the fact that he had apparently been avoiding Devi for absolutely no fucking reason. "He's been all over you at school!"

"We're friends!" Devi cries.

"I mean-! He-! You!" Paxton stammers gracelessly.

Their screaming competition comes to an end when Paxton fails to string together a coherent sentence. They stare at each other. Devi's eyes are wide, and her expression is caught between disbelief and disgust. He ducks his head shamefully and wants to scream, because how much of an idiot can he be?

She breaks the silence.

"You're so annoying." Devi says, but she's trying to smother a laugh threatening to bubble over. "I can't believe you thought I was dating Ben." She sticks her tongue out and makes a gagging noise.

Paxton has nothing to say in response, because he's fucking dumb and mortified and how could he be so wrong about something so important?

Devi's laughter cuts off abruptly and she sucks in a sharp breath. Realization brightens her eyes. "Oh my-. Is this why you've been avoiding me?"

It would be so easy to fling open the car door and throw his body into the middle of the street to await his fate.

The girl in his passenger seat is suddenly very confused. He can practically see the gears shifting in her head, spinning so fast that they're on the verge of malfunctioning. "That doesn't even make sense."

It makes perfect sense.

"I like you, Devi."

Her lips part to form a perfect 'o' shape. "You like me?" She asks unsurely.

"I like you," he confirms, shooting her a reassuring grin.

"You like me?" She's smiling dreamily at him now.

Paxton leans over the center console, bringing their faces closer together. "I like you." He's close enough that his breath moves loose strands of her hair.

"I-." Devi pauses, smile dissolving into a frown, and Paxton feels his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach.

"I'm mad at you!" She exclaims, hand flying out to whack him on the shoulder. He flinches more out of shock than hurt and leans back into his seat. "How could you avoid me over something so stupid?!" Her voice is soft and her shoulders hunch when she speaks again. "Why couldn't you just talk to me?"

Paxton draws in his next breath slowly, contemplating his words carefully. He's never been the best at articulating himself, almost always complicating matters with poorly chosen phrasing resulting in misconstrued meanings.

"Your mom thinks I'm stupid," he says slowly.

Devi cringes. "She was just stressed and-."

"She was right," Paxton admits. "And I guess it just made me wonder if you thought the same thing. I'm not… good at school, like you or Ben. Honestly, I wanted to be with you. But, after that run in with your mom, I started questioning whether you would even want to be with someone like me.

"So I iced you out for a while. Which is wrong, I realize that, but it's so much easier to reject someone than to be the one rejected. Becca eventually called me out on being an idiot, but by the time I decided I was going to tell you how I felt, you had already moved on. Or so I thought. I guess that's my fault for jumping to conclusions."

He pauses, waiting to see if Devi wants to chime in, but she remains silent.

"So, uh, I guess the moral of the story is that I'm an idiot."

She still doesn't say anything.

"Look, I really thought you dating Ben would be for the better. I mean, he's smart in a super annoying jackass way. So like, you two could have steamy and intellectually stimulating conversations about scales triangles, or whatever turns nerds like him on."

Devi breaks into a small giggle. "I don't think scales triangles turn anyone on."

Paxton feels relief as her laughter reaches his ears. "Hey," he says jokingly, "who are we to judge a nerd's sexual perversions?"

Devi continues laughing to herself, and Paxton feels warmth spread throughout his chest watching her. Her eyes are scrunched shut and she's leaving forward in her seat, and it's hard not to notice the way the sunlight glints off her hair and-.

She glances up and catches him staring. Her laughter subsides as she reaches out to take his hand in hers. He hopes his palms aren't sweaty.

"You can talk to me about anything. And I don't think you're stupid."

"I think I'm stupid," he admits softly.

Her fingers tighten around his. "You're not. Reading your essays, I can tell. You struggle to recall specifics and put it down on paper in a clear and concise way, but I can tell you understand everything we're being taught. You're not stupid. And to circle back to what you were saying earlier, I like you too."

"I know," he grins cheekily at her. "You made it very clear a few months ago when you cornered me in the parking lot after swim practice and demanded I have sex with you."

Devi drops his hand and gapes at him. "I did not!"

"Ehh," Paxton shrugs. "You kinda did."

Her hand flies up, her intention to hit him for the second time that day, but he catches her before she's able to. He flips her arm over, and lowers his head to kiss the exposed skin on the inside of her wrist. Pride swells within his chest as he feels her pulse quicken, and affection explodes within his heart at the soft gasp she emits.

"I-!" She squeaks.

"Yes?" He smirks at her.

"I gotta go!" Devi yells in his face. She forcefully pushes the passenger door of his car open, and throws herself onto the sidewalk. She lands with a heavy thud, and Paxton is ready to leap out after her to check that she's fine, but her head pops up not even two seconds later.

"I'm fine!" She shouts, frazzled and disoriented.

Clumsily, she manages to retrieve her bag from his car, and murmurs a quick goodbye before she sprints across her yard into her house, slamming the front door behind her.

Paxton smiles fondly to himself.

A few weeks later, Paxton taps his pencil obnoxiously against his deck, and bounces his leg restlessly, waiting nervously for Mr. Shapiro to pass back his midterm.

"Don't worry," Devi says into his ear, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. "I know you did great."

Mr. Shapiro gives nothing away in his face as he places Paxton's test face down on his desk. He immediately rushes to flip it over, and feels Devi leaning into his back to get a better view.

All the air leaves his lungs once he sees the grade circled in the upper right-hand corner.

"OhmyGod!" Devi exclaims. "Paxton!"

He feels her arms wrap tightly around his shoulders as she plants an adorably sloppy kiss on his cheeks. "You did so well!"

And she's right. The 88% scribbled in bright red sharpie accompanied by a huge smiley face confirms it.

"And you have your incredibly sexy and smart girlfriend to thank," Devi says smugly, because this grade is just as reflective of her work as it is his own.

"Hell yeah I do," he twists around in his seat and places his hands on either side of her face. "And she's going to find out just how much I appreciate all her help."

"Hey. Hey! No PDA in the classroom!"

[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic | Take Me Back to the Start (5/?)

Title: Take Me Back to the Start Summary:   Everyone remembers their first love. Not everyone carries those feelings from childhood to senior year. Yet Brock is starting his last year of high school while still longing for the relationship he lost five years ago. Meanwhile, José is at the top of the food chain and seems to have it all together. But maybe their story isn’t over yet. Word Count: ~3.1k (this chapter) / ~15.8k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo) Rating: T (so far)

Read on AO3

To say Brock had a tendency to overanalyze things would be the understatement of the century. So, to suddenly be kissed by someone he’d been pining for - especially after everything they had recently been through - was enough to keep him up at night. Tossing and turning, getting up and lying back down, there was nothing he could do to quell the overwhelming onslaught of conflicting emotions towards a memory that wouldn’t stop playing on repeat.

Finally, he sat up and grabbed his phone. “Yes, I know it’s almost three in the morning. You got me into this mess, so you have to listen to the details,” he said as soon as Courtney picked up the other line.

“What mess? What details? I… What?” The groggy voice answered.

Brock exhaled deeply and flopped back down on the bed. “Maybe not ‘mess’… I’m a mess, actually.”

“Elaborate.”

“José kissed me. And bitch, I mean he kissed me. Like, I swear my soul left my body for a minute there. It was… it was totally out of nowhere but, I don’t know, it felt right. It felt like we both needed it. I just have no idea what to do now.”

There was a beat of silence before Brock could hear Courtney trying to stifle what he could only assume was a squeal of delight. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You didn’t even have to make the first move! You can’t even doubt that he feels something for you.”

“Don’t question my ability to doubt, Courtney,” he countered. “What if he just wanted to get it out of his system so he could move on?”

She groaned and let out an exasperated breath. “Do you hear yourself when you talk like this? He’s not that type, not from what I’ve seen. Do you know what the issue is? I think you’re scared. I think that now that you know your feelings might be mutual, it got too real, and you’re afraid it won’t live up to your expectations.”

“Are you done psychoanalyzing me?”

“Am I wrong though?”

Silence.

“Exactly. Talk to him. Or just kiss him, that seemed to get the job done,” she chuckled. “I need to get to sleep now, babe. You gonna be alright?”

That was the million dollar question. While he knew in theory he should feel alright, more than alright even. He wished he could simply shut his mind down and allow himself to bask in the afterglow of sharing a passionate kiss with someone he’d spent all this time longing for.

“I think so,” he finally offered, then ended the call after they shared goodbyes.

------

He set his phone down on his nightstand and buried his face in his pillows. There wasn’t much time left for a proper night’s sleep, but he did feel more relaxed after getting his feelings out to another person. Addressing them with José, however, would be a different story entirely.

“How are you holding up, B?”

Brock rested his head against the lockers and stared up at the ceiling. “I talked myself down in the shower, I’m okay. It was only a kiss, right?”

“Hope your shower pep talk worked, Mr. Brightside, ‘cause here he comes,” Courtney hummed before ducking out of the way, leaving José with a clear path to walk right towards him.

“Hey,” José mimicked Brock’s pose, leaning against the locker and tilting his head against it with his hands shoved into his pockets.

Brock looked over at him and let out a soft chuckle. “You making fun of me?”

“Ain’t my fault your resting pose looks like you tryna be a fuckin’ T-Bird.”

He breathed out a soft laugh and elbowed his shoulder lightly. “Oh, shut up.”

As Brock’s arm dropped back down, his hand lingered. It swung and twitched a bit awkwardly as it shifted ever so slightly closer to José’s. Their skin touched, goosebumps spreading up both of their arms. He inched closer still, letting their pointer fingers link.

José looked up at him, and he could feel the nerves radiating off of him. There was a shyness, a hesitation that still hadn’t dissipated. So, he looked out into the distance, as if they just happened to be occupying the same space. But he held his hand properly, standing in silence with their fingers laced. He stole another glance and saw Brock had relaxed, and couldn’t help but smile as his gaze drifted down to the floor. Suddenly they were nine years old and holding hands for the first time all over again.

The peaceful coexistence lasted until the bell rang, the jarring noise forcing them back into reality. They reluctantly let go of each other’s hands and returned them to their previous positions buried in their pockets.

“I’ll see you at practice?” There was a quiet hopefulness in José’s voice, a vulnerability that made it impossible to hide that it was far beyond just the cheerleading.

Brock bit his lip and nodded. “I’ll be there,” a smile tugged at his lips and he gave his shoulder a light squeeze. He stood at his locker a bit longer as he watched the smaller male walk away, cheeks pink and smile wide.

Courtney laughed softly and took him by the arm. “Come on, puppy love. You’ll have plenty of time to make heart eyes at him later.”

“You make me sound so lame,” he huffed as they made their way down the hall.

“Babe, you do that all on your own. But it’s cute, I’m rooting for you two.”

Brock felt his blood run cold as they rounded the corner, briskly walking past Kyle and two of his friends that were staring him down once he was in their field of vision. “Well, someone needs to be,” he muttered.

“You don’t think they’re gonna go after you or something, do you?”

He winced, pressing his lips into a line. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “but I’m sleeping with a bat under my pillow from now on.”

------

José frowned, after poking Brock’s shoulder for the tenth time or so, he still wasn’t getting a reaction out of him. He was completely checked out, his physical body was there while nothing else was. “Come on, boo,” he took him by the shoulder and tried to shake the life back into him. “Why you all in your head like that?”

Brock blinked rapidly and sat upright. “Hm?” He cleared his throat and chewed his lip. “Nothing, don’t want to worry you about it.”

“You too fuckin’ late on that, so you better just go on and come out with it,” he said simply, shifting so he was sitting cross-legged and facing him.

“Okay, fine,” Brock sighed, leaning back until he was resting against the next level of the bleachers. “I didn’t want to scare you, but I guess I dropped the ball on that. It’s just… obviously Kyle is pissed that you guys broke up, and I think he and his cronies have it out for me now. I know, I know, I must sound totally paranoid.”

He clicked his tongue and looked down, tracing patterns on the floor with his toe. “Nah, I get it,” but then he looked up and put his hand on Brock’s knee. “But you listen to me. I ain’t gonna let no one lay no damn hands on you again. ‘Sides, if any of them try shit they gon’ be blacklisted from getting any cheerleader pussy, and none of them wanna risk that shit.” That elicited a snort from him, causing him to hide his grin behind his hand. “You make a compelling argument,” he propped his elbow on his other knee and rested his chin on his hand.

José moved his hand from his knee to his lower back. “This why you were so afraid to touch me this morning?”

Brock’s body stiffened at the question. He inhaled a deep breath and blew it out slowly, eyes flicking from the ceiling to the ground and back. In a detached voice he answered “Yes.”

He had nothing to go off of but his word, so he nodded, rubbing small circles into his lower back. “Do you remember when we was kids and you’d jump in and help me fight off bullies no matter how many times your mama told you not to? That’s the type of you that you need to be, you just seem so damn worried all the time, always watching over your shoulder. My mama says that’s how you get ulcers and shit.”

It was unnerving to Brock that even after all this time, José figured him out so effortlessly. It was like suddenly being naked - exposed and vulnerable with no way to cover it up. On one hand, it shook him to his very core and made him want to curl deeper into himself and hide away, but on the other, he knew it was something he needed, something that made him feel alive in the most raw, unadulterated way. And maybe that was what pushed him to his feet just then. “Let’s go somewhere,” he said as he turned back to him.

José’s brows knitted and his head tilted to the side, but he got up and threw his bag over his shoulder. “Aight, lead the way,” and with a subtle spring in his step, he followed the taller teen outside of the gym and around back to the parking lot. “Do I get a hint or is this a surprise?”

“Just consider the context clues,” Brock hummed as he strapped the seatbelt across his chest and backed out of the lot.

“Context clues,” he mimicked and rolled his eyes. “Man, you know I’m barely pulling a C- in English.”

Brock reached a hand over and patted his thigh reassuringly. “Just hang tight, babe.”

José conceded and sat quietly (which was a feat in and of itself) for the rest of the ride. Well, almost the rest of the ride, until he figured out where they were going and started bouncing in his seat and hitting Brock’s shoulder. “Aww, we’re going to the playground! You know I’m a sucker for sentimental shit.”

“I had a hunch,” he chuckled as he pulled into a parking spot.

As they stepped out of the car, Brock was already hit with the first wave of nostalgia. The sound of the wind pushing empty swings, the wet, stale smell that lingered after the kids had left because the forecast called for rain. It took him right back to childhood and all the time he had spent there. All the time he had spent with José.

“You remember when we started going just on the cloudiest, almost rainy days ‘cause that’s when it was the emptiest? We thought we was so damn clever,” José recalled with a laugh as he looked up at the sky, covered with a thick gray sheet of clouds.

Brock chuckled as they walked down the path that took them towards the center of the playground. “And we only got stuck in heavy rain, what, four times? Five?” He looked over at the swingset.

José turned to face it, smiling wanely. “That’s where it all began.”

“And ended.”

They wordlessly made their way over and sat on the swings, both of them staring up at the sky, as if something would transcend from above and tell them what their next moves should be.

“Did you ever think about me?” Brock asked, looking ahead instead of up. “When we weren’t talking, you know, just in general…”

José smiled at the ground and clicked his tongue. “We spent four years together. You think Imma just forget you like that?”

Brock looked over at him with a fond expression. “It really was four years, that sounds so crazy when you think about it. That’s like…” he paused to count on his fingers. “It’s more than a fifth of our whole lives. I swear, literally half of my childhood memories involve you. Maybe more.”

“Probably ‘cause y’all let me tag along on your family vacations,” he chuckled, then went quiet. “Are we gonna keep not talking about how we feel now, though?” It felt odd to outright ask him how he felt about the kiss, considering it was entirely his move, but he needed to know where he stood.

His cheeks turned red and he swallowed thickly. “I mean… I’m very good at not talking about things, to be fair.”

“And I’m very good at running my mouth, so maybe we should meet somewhere in the middle.”

Brock got up and sat on the ground across from José. It was one of the rare times he was looking up at him. “So, what’s the middle?”

“Dunno yet. I’m not a planner,” José had started to swing in a playful way where he’d pretend to almost kick him. It was amusing until he swung his leg too far and almost got him for real, and in his scrambling to avoid that, he ended up launching himself off the swing and landing with a thud on top of Brock.

The impact knocked them both down, leaving Brock flat on his back with José on top of him. It took them both a moment to recover before either of them could properly acknowledge the compromising position they had suddenly landed themselves in.

Brock could feel his heartbeat jump into overdrive and his face felt so hot that José’s breath on his skin created a cooling sensation. He licked his lips, mouth feeling dry and words escaping him. At least, that was until he managed a soft “Hi.”

A broad, dimpled grin spread across José’s face. He leaned forward, resting their foreheads together and whispering “Hi” in response.

It took another brief moment for Brock to decide his next move. He ended up wrapping his arms around the smaller teen’s body and let their legs intertwine. He tilted his head just enough for their lips to touch, capturing them in a slow, tender kiss. It felt different when he was initiating it; it sent sparks through his body, every inch of him telling his brain that this was what he wanted, what he needed.

And José needed it just as badly. He melted into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut. One hand moved to cup his face, the other carding his fingers through his hair. It felt natural and familiar, even though the kisses they had shared as kids were innocent, close-mouthed pecks, often with their hands at their sides or in a loose hug.

But this kiss was intimate. It was deep and languid and filled with the desire and longing that had carried over from their last kiss, from every touch and longing gaze they had shared in the interim. Their lips parted, tongues tangling and heads tilting, granting each other as much access as they could physically allow.

Brock’s hand slipped under José’s shirt, his hand spreading across the smooth expanse of skin as he rubbed his back, holding him even closer as well. Nothing was enough, he had to have more after every touch and taste he got.

“Mm…” A soft, pleased sigh escaped José’s mouth in the midst of the heated kisses. The hand he’d had on Brock’s face moved down his chest to fist into the fabric of his shirt, trying to pull him even closer still.

They had been so wrapped up in each other, so utterly lost in the moment, that the sudden, loud crack of thunder nearly scared them senseless. And on top of that, it was starting to rain. So, there went the moment.

“Fuck, we better get out of here,” Brock grunted, reluctantly standing up and helping José to his feet as well. “Come on, I’ll drop you off at home,” he offered as they jogged back up the path and into the car, pulling back onto the road just as the rain started to pour down hard.

When they arrived at the Cancel household, neither of them wanted José to leave just yet. They sat there in silence, hoping the right way to say goodbye would come to them. Brock made an attempt, shifting to face him. “If I, uh, don’t hear from you before then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Do you want to hear from me before then?”

He let out a soft laugh and strummed his fingers across the steering wheel. “I always want to hear from you.”

José leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Text me when you get home, then,” he told him before grabbing his bag and sprinting from the car to the house, lest he get completely soaked.

------

Brock still sat for another moment, letting it all catch up with him. “Everything really does happen on that fucking playground,” he laughed to himself before driving home.

Part of Brock hadn’t even wanted to divulge the details of the playground rendezvous with his well-meaning but overly-invested friends. But, at the same time, it probably wouldn’t have happened without them. So, he sat with them both on his bedroom floor, ready to recount the events.

“Look at that shit-eating grin,” Steve teased. “Alright, spill.”

Brock bit his lip and looked down at his lap. “We went to the playground. You know, the one a couple blocks over. And we were just talking, reminiscing… then one thing led to another and we were making out right there by the swings,” he blushed just from recounting the experience. “Then it started to rain and we had to make a run for it.”

“How anticlimactic,” Courtney pouted, then laughed. “Nah, I’m happy for you, you really almost got some. What do you think would’ve happened if it didn’t rain?”

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it - it was actually one of the only things he could think about. But he didn’t know, in actuality, how it would’ve played out. “I mean, I don’t think we were going to fuck in a playground. Pretty sure that’s illegal anyway.”

“Does he know you’re a virgin?”

The question stopped him dead in his tracks, freezing him in place. The redness in his face spread and deepened and he felt a knot tighten in the pit of his stomach. “No…” he mumbled.

“Are you going to tell him you’re a virgin?”

Brock still couldn’t look either of his friends in the eye. He pulled his knees up under his chin and looked down at his feet. He pressed his lips into a fine line, then exhaled deeply. “I don’t know.”

[zuppizup]

Five Times - Chapter 03 Night Terrors

Summary:  Five times Ibis interrupts Callum and Rayla (and the one time he doesn't)

Pairing: Rayla/Callum

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1998

Tumblr: Chapter 1

Chaper 2

AO3 Link: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

~~~

He sits bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily. The sheets are tangled mess around his legs and the blankets kicked off on to the floor. A cold sweat drenches his night shirt.

Callum lays back on the pillow, his forearm covering his eyes.

That damn dream again.

Plummeting after her. Repeating the words over and over but his wings don’t take until the last second. He dives for her… but it’s too late… for both of them.

He squeezes his eyes shut, as if that will somehow banish the images burned into his subconscious.

He wishes he could go see her, though logically he knows she is fine.

It’s been nice staying at the Storm Spire and having beds and such luxuries, but he’s strangely found himself missing sleeping in the caves and furrows they had frequented in recent weeks. He didn’t realise how much he’s come to depend on her just… being there. Simply looking around and seeing her sleeping soundly had become a strange comfort. Even before her plunge of the Storm Spire, he had found himself used to it.

Contented and reassured by it.

A part of him is tempted to just open her door and check she’s sleeping soundly, but that would be selfish. There’s no point in risking waking her up just because he had a bad dream.

With a sigh, he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed.

He needs to clear his head.

The wind whips through the halls of the Storm Spire, chilling his bones. He pulls his jacket tighter against him as he plods up the steps. He’s not sure why he thinks going outside onto the peak will help but he feels like he’s suffocating inside.

He steps out into the moonlight, sighing.

Amaya had tried to talk to him about trauma and stress after she heard of what happened up on the Spire.

He had told her he was fine.

Better than fine even.

Elated.

He had saved Rayla after she had saved Zym. They had thought they were doomed over and over and somehow, they had pulled through!

She had told him that feeling might pass. Strange thoughts might invade his head.

Torture him.

That that was normal.

Typical, even.

He wishes now his aunt had not left so soon after the battle.

Maybe she could have helped him figure out how to sleep.

But Amaya was right. She and the remaining Sunfire elves had to leave. To continue the search.

They still hadn’t found Viren.

“Callum? Are you ok?”

He starts at the sound of Rayla’s voice, looking around.

He sees a strange shimmer in an alcove to his left and then she’s somehow materialising before him.

“Rayla?” She looks cold, clad only in a light cotton nightgown. “What are you doing up?”

She shrugs, glancing at him. Even in the dim light he can see she’s been crying. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He sighs, reaching for her. “Me either.”

She melts into his arms as he tries to wrap his jacket around her. She’s freezing. He wonders how long she’s been out here.

He’s conflicted. He’s relieved to have her near, but he’s not accustomed to seeing her like this. Rayla is one of the strongest people he knows. Seeing her so rattled is hard.

He hugs her close, wishing there was something he could say, something he could do to help her banish her demons but they’re both in the same boat and he doesn’t even know how to help himself.

She shivers and he’s not sure if it is from cold or something else.

“We should probably go back inside" He whispers into her hair.

She nods but doesn’t speak.

They walk down to the sleeping quarters hand in hand, stalling outside her bedroom. In truth, her parents’ bedroom.

“Good night.” He kisses her softly on the cheek, not really wanting to say goodbye but knowing they need their rest.

“Night.” She hugs him before turning to open her door.

He looks at her closed door for a few seconds before sighing and walking the short distance across the hall to his own.

He closes his door, leaning back against it. He knows he should sleep but it does not come easy these days. Not after the nightmares anyway. He’s usually so exhausted from training that his first sleep comes easy but then he’s woken by a nightmare and his rest is fitful for the rest of the night.

He wonders if there’s a way to propose they… sleep together?

Or rather, in the same room.

He doesn’t mind sleeping on the floor or in a chair, but these constant nightmares make it hard for him to relax on his own.

But that would be pretty inappropriate and he doesn’t want her to think he’s… looking for other things.

He’s flushes and he puts those thoughts out of his head.

He just needs to get over it. They’re only dreams. They can’t hurt him.

A gentle knocking startles him and he opens the door to find Rayla standing there. Even in the dark hallway, he can see she’s blushing.

“Em, hi.” She’s biting her lip.

“Hi… Em, do you want to come in?” He feels his face burn too. Which is stupid. She’s been in his room many times.

She glances around and nods, ducking under his arm as he steps back and opens the door wider...

They stand in an awkward silence for a few seconds.

“Would you mind... if I slept in here?” She looks at him and then immediately looks away. “It’s just... I have trouble getting to sleep lately.” She gestures to the reading chair. “I’ll sleep there. I... it’s a bit lonely in their room after travelling with you… and… and Zym and Ezran for weeks.”

“No, it’s fine.” He’s both relieved and weirdly terrified. It shouldn’t be that different having her sleep in his room as opposed to right next to him in a cave, but somehow it is. “You take the bed though. I don’t mind the chair.”

She snorts, a little of the awkwardness leaving her posture. “I can’t kick you out of your own bed. Anyway, I can’t imagine a prince would be too impressed with an assassin taking the comfy option."

“Well, princes have to practice chivalry so, in that case, you have no option but to take the bed.”

“Callum-” She tries to protest before he takes her by the hands.

“Rayla, please.” He kisses her on the forehead. “Just indulge me.”

She rolls her eyes, but her smile is sweet. “Fiiiine.” She walks over and slumps on his bed.

He makes himself comfortable on the high-backed reading chair.

He already feels more relaxed. He risks a glimpse at Rayla and is surprised to see her eyes closed and breathing a steady, heavy rhythm. She must have been exhausted. It’s not long before his own eye lids feel heavy and he drifts of to a restful slumber.

He’s awoken by an unfamiliar sound. His sleep addled brain takes a few seconds to realise it is Rayla. She is trashing around and crying out in her sleep.

He jumps up and rushes to her side.

“Rayla.” He touches her shoulder and shakes her gently, fearful of startling her awake. “Rayla.” He grasps her a little more forcefully. “Come on. Wake up, Rayla.”

“Callum!” She jerks awake suddenly, her chest heaving.

“Sush Rayla, it’s ok.” He takes her hands as she looks around disoriented. “I’m here.”

“Callum.” She throws her arms around him. “You’re ok.”

His neck feels wet and he realises she’s crying. “It’s ok, Rayla. It was just a dream.”

She allows him to hold her while she regains her breath. “I feel so stupid.” She sniffs, speaking softly. “Everything is fine.”

Callum sighs. “Amaya said it’s normal.”

She sits back and looks at him, a confused look on her face.

He continues. “She said it’s pretty typical for soldiers to, you know, have nightmares and… feel off after a battle or whatever.” He takes her hand. “She said to give yourself time. It’ll get better.”

Rayla squeezes his fingers. “Can… will you stay with me?” She resolutely looks down at the bed.

Callum chuckles softly. “Well, this is my room, remember?”

“No…” Rayla tugs mindlessly on the sleeve of her nightgown. “Here. Will… will you sleep next to me?”

“Eh-”

“It’s… In my dreams… I just…” She sighs. “I think I would sleep better if you were next to me.” She glances up at him.

Callum doesn’t trust his voice and elects to nod his agreement.

Rayla smiles softly and shuffles back on the bed to make room for him.

Callum’s mouth is dry as he climbs in next to her, awkwardly pulling the covers around him as he lies down on his back. He rests his sweaty palms on his stomach and stares at the ceiling for a few seconds before risking a sly look in her direction.

She is lying on her side, her hands drawn up in front of her face. She catches him looking at her and give him a shy smile. “Good night.”

He smiles back at her, feeling a little more relaxed despite the fact he is sharing a bed with Rayla. “Night.”

She shuffles forward a little, resting her forehead against his upper arm as she closes her eyes.

He can’t help but smile at her, his heart skipping a beat. She really is the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on.

When Callum wakes he’s surprised to see grey dawn sunlight creeping along the floor.

He feels a gentle weight on his chest and glances down to find Rayla snuggled into him, one hand resting lightly over his heart. His own arm is cradling her back.

He has absolutely no recollection of how they ended up like this. After a beat he decides he doesn’t care. He feels well rested for the first time in weeks. He’ll deal with whatever embarrassment stems from this whole thing when she wakes up.

He turns his head so he can rest his cheek on her hair and elects to rest his eyes a little longer.

He’s woken by Rayla next. She shifts against him and he opens his eyes to see her looking around bleary eyed. She takes a second to full wake up and he sees the exact moment she realises the compromising position they are in.

Her flush starts in her chest and rises up to her hair line. Eyes opening wide, she pushes herself away from him and sits up. “Eh, sorry.”

Callum cannot help but giggle at her. “It’s fine.” He sits up himself, knowing he’s probably as red in the face as she is. “Did you sleep ok?”

She smiles at him. “Yeah, for the first time in ages actually-” She glances at the pulled curtains and he sees her ears do that cute little drop thing. “Hold on… what time is it?”

Callum looks at the shadows and play of light through the pulled curtains.

“Oh no!”

It is much later than they usually get up.

He jumps up. “I’m supposed to have training with Ibis first thing!”

Rayla is already extracting herself from a tangle of bedsheets. “I have guard duty!”

She sprints to the door, Callum hot on her heels.

“I’ll see you later?” He catches her hand.

“Of course, dummy.” She gives him a quick hug and turns open the door. “Hopefully no one notices that-”

They are both startled to find Ibis standing before them, his hand raised as if to knock. His eyes widen in surprise, initially at the door opening suddenly, but they seem to open even wider as he looks from Callum to Rayla and then back again.

Rayla is stunned silent, her mouth open in shock.

Callum looks between them. “Ehhhhh…”

Ibis take a long-suffering sigh as he rolls his eyes and turns to walk away.

~~~

Chapter 4

[elizabeth-234]

The Supplejack

Previous: Chapter Eight: The Ned Saga

Summary: Peter Parker has been alone his whole freshman year but finds hope when Stark Industries announces a science competition. The prize? An internship with Tony Stark.

Here is link to chapters!

Hi friends. Happy New Year! I'm wishing you health and happiness in the year to come. Thank you for all the support! I can't say how much it means to me.

Chapter Nine: Progress

The motion of the sliding doors caught Peter’s eye and he looked up in time to see Julia entering the lab. A toothy smile came over her face and with a small blush she waved when she saw him. He managed to smile back.

It was just over two months of the internship gone and their work was steadily progressing. Peter was never fond of the intricacies of group work and was especially hyper sensitive to the forming of them in this one. He didn’t want to do anything that would cause the group to collapse or, more likely, implode.

Frank and Monica were the natural leaders of the group and, for the most part, got along with each other. There was this underlying tension between the two that had Peter carefully managing his interactions. When they first were assigned together it was difficult to move forward because they were both trying to prove themselves to the group and then to themselves.

They spent hours brainstorming their ideas. He thought it was a done deal and that they could begin researching immediately but unfortunately, they had other ideas. Both came in with huge presentations. Him and Julia were stuck in the middle of their debates for which direction they should go forward. It would have been funny if Peter wasn’t so scared of their group falling behind and getting in trouble.

Peter couldn’t bring himself to choose and saw the benefits of both choices. He remained firmly neutral and it was Julia, cheeks a deep red, that came up with a plan. It leaned more toward Monica’s overall but combined aspects of Franks into it. Neither party was particularly happy but Julia quietly guided their group together.

Peter thought it was odd how it came to pass. He connected with her because they were both quiet. Both seemingly the followers, the enactors of their group. But it was through this circumstance Julia showed her true cards.

It wasn’t unnatural but something Peter simply wasn’t used to. He knew of leaders like Uncle Ben who vocalized their role and authority. People respected his uncle because of the honor he bestowed to his code and to the people around him. Ned was the same way. Peter watched as Ned spoke to the people at the lunch table the few times he went back. The others looked to Ned on what he thought. Midge and Brian were always arguing about something and when the point needed examining, they sought Ned to do it.

Julia was completely different. Instead of outright leading she guided their group through the members. The situation with Monica and Frank was the perfect example.

He saw her talking to Frank after the presentation battle. She handed him her notes and began asking him questions about why he chose aerobic digestion for their topic and what he still needed to research. Peter assumed they sat there after he left, engrossed in the benefits and negatives of each segment. Later in the week they met again and Frank presented a bunch of new ideas on how they could incorporate his idea into Monica’s. Frank didn’t say anything about the talk he had with Julia and the girl was equally as silent. Peter did see a small smile play across her face when Monica assented to the whole thing and their team began planning again.

There were also little things she did to smooth of the wrinkles. Small questions she asked or new material she would bring that would shed light on a constraint or help them broaden their research. Without all of her inputs, their project would be in a completely different place and she did it all without being the ‘leader’ of the group. Peter wasn’t even sure if the two others knew what was happening.

Julia was also the one who he had the most interaction with. Frank worked on different hours than all of them. Although Peter technically worked with Monica the most, they rarely talked and never about anything else. It was Julia who he felt connected to, which was normally something Peter didn’t feel so easily.

She slowly integrated herself in Peter’s work time. On the always arrived at the Tower first because her school was farther away than Midtown. The first of which Peter was already knees deep in paper at his little table by the window. She told him afterwards she’d been trying to gain his attention for a while and on receiving no answer decided to give up. She sat down and began working herself.  

Peter came out of his trance and realized the sky was dark. He stretched and looked down at the desk. There piled on top of the papers was a head of hair. His breath stole away as he realized she must have fallen asleep sometime during her work. Uncertainty coiled in his stomach. Should he wake her or let her rest? He checked the time and saw how late it was. He had to get home so wake her it was. Gently he lifted his hand up and, after hesitating, set it on her shoulder, giving one firm nudge before snatching his hand back. She didn’t move and Peter repeated the action again but this time he whispered her name.

She groaned and lifted her head, revealing a line imprinted into the side of her face. A notebook lay innocently on the desk where her head had rested on. Peter broke out in a smile.

“Peter?” She asked, her voice foggy with the remnants of sleep.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if I should wake you but I didn’t want to leave you here.”

She yawned and started gathering the papers.

“It’s alright. Thanks for waking me.” Julia smiled and Peter stared as she went back to organizing. They didn’t talk on the way out. Just wandered down the down the streets until they got to the subway. Her stop was after his but he rode next to her until her spot. It was quiet between them. Not uncomfortable or anything but easy, relaxing.

Hesitantly she began talking about her family after Peter forced himself to ask. They’d just introduced three new members into their family. A small baby named Alex and two fluffy cats.  One was named BOGO, short for Buy One Get One, and the other was Free as they were having a sale on the cats at the pound.

The doors closed behind her and Peter continued sitting. Her small hand waved beyond the glass and then she was out of sight. After taking another subway back some stops he got to his exit.

He remembered eating dinner alone that night. May was at work and while his food cooled untouched he thought of the way she let him borrow the notes and her hand, eclipsed by the large jacket sleeves, waving from the platform.

From there on out it was little things like that. Julia would always come over and sit with him at the table. She started bringing in snacks and always had enough for both of them. Sometimes they would talk and other times not. It was little things that had Peter relaxing around her and soon he felt a burst of warmth when she sat across from him.

Today she came straight to their table and Peter began moving his papers to his half of the table.

“Hey, Peter. What’s up?”

“I think I’ve got what we need.” He bounced up on his seat and tucked his legs underneath.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I found out that Oscorp has a prototype of the equipment that would work great. Of course, it would need minor readjustments and actually we just could build it ourselves but we would have to see the prototype and then figure out from there. It might be too much time. And, uh, we’ll just have to see.” He laughed awkwardly and brought his hand up to the back of his neck. Julia sat with a smile crooked smile on her face.

“That sounds great, Peter. Can I see your notes and over the weekend I can email them to Frank and Monica? See what they think?”

The papers were sitting in front of her before she was done talking. She nodded and gathered them into their folder.

They worked into the early evening. The elevators chimed and Friday’s voice carried over the sound system.

“Good Evening Peter and Julia. You are required in lab two.” Julia raised her eyebrows.

“Thank you, Friday.”

“What was that the Friday?” She whispered. He grinned bringing his eyes up in sympathy to Friday. On one of their many talks to lab two Peter discovered Friday was quite the celebrity around the Tower. Friday told him that some of the younger workers would try to get Friday to speak out loud. He laughed out loud when Friday relayed how one person would walk around empty rooms knocking on walls and whispering to the ceiling.

“I’ve been helping out on another project after this one. Will you - are you alright going home?”

Julia tucked her hair behind her ear and nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry about me. Thank you again and I’ll make sure everyone has that stuff.”

“Thank you. Have a nice weekend. I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah. See you, Peter.”

His fingers brushed against the seam if his pants and reminded himself to text her later that night to make sure she got home safe. He decided to take the stairs and Friday chatted with him on the way up.  

“Boss has an update in the coming month so I will be offline for the day.” She said.

Peter worried his lip.

“Will you be okay?”

“I will be fine, Peter. It is protocol, but thank you for the concern.”

He frowned at the thought of Friday being… tampered with.  The stairwell was chilly and he pulled the sleeves down around his hands.

“Peter.” His head whipped around and he saw Mr. Stark walking toward him. Mr. Stark walked coolly down the hall, a spring in his step. Peter could image the people in the rooms he was passing by. They would all turn their heads, crowding around the windows just to catch a glimpse of the boss.

He set his hand on Peter’s shoulder and Peter was proud when he didn’t flinch back.

“Hey Mr. Stark. How’s it, um, going?”

“Good, good.” Mr. Stark looked down and Peter flushed at the searching gaze. “Shall we?”




He began heading into the lab when he realized Mr. Stark was walking back down the hallway. Peter scrambled to catch up and filed in line next to the man. On observation Peter was surprised to find his earlier thoughts were correct. As they walked down the hallway people were looking out of their offices. Some looked put out Peter was walking, now blocking their view of Mr. Stark and others quickly looked away when they were caught staring.

Peter wanted to ask where they were going and why they weren’t going to the lab, but the people in the rooms lining the hallway kept distracting his question. He slid his eyes to the other side to observe Mr. Stark. The man was… unperturbed. There was nothing in his body language to give away he was feeling uncomfortable. He walked, well, it was like everyone in the world was watching him or no one was and he was free. Eyes forward, hands relaxed at his side, and the barest of sways with each stride. There was confidence there and acknowledgement of something, maybe power.

“Mr. Stark…is this normal?”  

The man looked down at him for a moment and then looked to the side. This turned out to be the wrong thing to do because it sent some of the workers into a tizzy. A giggle bubbled out of his stomach and soon he was fully laughing at the image. Mr. Stark was cracking a smile at their antics.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Stark but did you see that guy? You gave him the side eye and he spit the coffee everywhere.” His hands braced on his legs right above his knees as he took deep breaths.  

He looked up to see the smile gone from his face. The man looked in deep thought and Peter’s stomach clenched. Was this a taboo topic? Was he friends with the guy in the room?

“I shouldn’t laugh. I’m sorry. I…”

Mr. Stark raised his hand and Peter fell silent. He shifted back and forth, and his hands began to sweat. The elevator chimed and they exited into a living space area. Well, a living room if you were mega-rich, which Peter knew Mr. Stark was.

There were fancy glass tables and bookshelves with only really large books in them. The whole far wall was a window and the skyline view was better than the one at his table.

“This is beautiful.” He said wandering closer to the window. He could feel Mr. Stark following him and the two stood, staring out. “Wow, Mr. Stark. This view. I feel like I’m seeing the whole world.”

Peter could feel eyes on him but he couldn’t worry. For the moment the way the sun’s rays were caught by the buildings and then distributed out over the city was all he could see. Fire rose in the normally grey cityscape and ignited the world like a painting. His breath caught at the sight. The gaze left him as Mr. Stark looked back out.

“It is.” He said. The man sighed and poured himself a drink, fixing Peter a water. They sat down in the living room. Mr. Stark made sure their seats were facing the window. Peter sat on the edge of it. The crisp material was too new under him and he wanted to limit how much he touched.

“It’s always like that and, to be honest, I haven’t even noticed it recently. Not until we walked down that hallway.” He sighed and ran his hand thought his hair. Peter wasn’t sure Mr. Stark was actually talking to him. The man almost seemed like he forgot Peter was there. He could smell the alcohol from his spot and worried the inside of his check about it although he wasn’t sure why.

“It was funny with the coffee, wasn’t it?” He said and Peter nodded, clasping his hands tight. Mr. Stark finally looked up and saw Peter. He must have looked a hundred kinds of pathetic because the man got up. Peter couldn’t see but he heard the sink running and then some tinkering.

Mr. Stark came back with a snack for them and another water.

“It’s been a week.” He said and Peter, feeling like a bobble head nodded again. “You know I haven’t even noticed the view until just now too. But you’re right, it’s like we’re looking at the whole world.”

Mr. Stark stared out again and then clapped his hands, making Peter jolt back.

“Alright. I really wanted to check up and…”

-

The air was cool despite spring ending soon. The cool wicked against his overheated skin and Peter breathed out for what felt like the first time that day. He could honestly say he wasn’t sure what just happened.

The plans were originally to work in the lab. The prototype was almost done and time before the school year was short, but they hadn’t talked about the work at all.

Instead Mr. Stark was… weird. And then he wasn’t.

At first there was such a poignant melancholy draped around him. It was unlike the Mr. Stark he’d worked with so far. The way he stared out that window. Peter couldn’t tell if he was seeing it for the first time or saying goodbye. Then he snapped back to normal.

Peter was left unsure of their words or his responses.

They’ talked about normal stuff. Well, what seemed normal. Mr. Stark asked about school and Peter hesitantly dived into English class. He wasn’t sure with Mr. Stark being a science guy if he would be interested in literature and Peter had seen the state of those bookshelves. To his surprise the man easily conversed about the newest section of Pride and Prejudice they were reading. They discussed the importance of letters as a form of communication in the novel and Peter found himself debating whether Caroline was really coldhearted in the end. It was pleasant to get his mind off of everything. To talk about nothing for a while.

But his maudlin expression and the smell of alcohol stopped Peter in his tracks. Mr. Stark got rid of the alcohol. Peter was sure he saw the uncomfortable look on his face and without making a big deal, without saying anything, he got up and dumped it out. His heart clenched. Maybe he should have said something to make him feel better, if he was feeling ill at all.

His phone buzzed and Peter flipped it open. He smiled at the background. Before he left he took a photo of the skyline and sunset. It really was beautiful. A text came in and Mr. Stark’s name appeared. He opened it and felt a warm feeling in his belly settle.

Peter, text me when you get home safe. Next time I’m not taking no for an answer to driving you home.

He shut the phone and leaned his head back. He wasn’t certain why Mr. Stark was asking about him, but for the moment he didn’t care. With a smile on his face he flipped the phone open once more to see his new background and to read the text one more time.

Thank you!

taglist: @verdonafrost @whatisthou @demi-starzak

Next Chapter Ten: Fast-forward 

[artificialqueens]

Take Me Back to the Start (Chapter 5) - Joley

(read on ao3)

To say Brock had a tendency to overanalyze things would be the understatement of the century. So, to suddenly be kissed by someone he’d been pining for - especially after everything they had recently been through - was enough to keep him up at night. Tossing and turning, getting up and lying back down, there was nothing he could do to quell the overwhelming onslaught of conflicting emotions towards a memory that wouldn’t stop playing on repeat.

Finally, he sat up and grabbed his phone. “Yes, I know it’s almost three in the morning. You got me into this mess, so you have to listen to the details,” he said as soon as Courtney picked up the other line.

“What mess? What details? I… What?” The groggy voice answered.

Brock exhaled deeply and flopped back down on the bed. “Maybe not ‘mess’… I’m a mess, actually.”

“Elaborate.”

“José kissed me. And bitch, I mean he kissed me. Like, I swear my soul left my body for a minute there. It was… it was totally out of nowhere but, I don’t know, it felt right. It felt like we both needed it. I just have no idea what to do now.”

There was a beat of silence before Brock could hear Courtney trying to stifle what he could only assume was a squeal of delight. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You didn’t even have to make the first move! You can’t even doubt that he feels something for you.”

“Don’t question my ability to doubt, Courtney,” he countered. “What if he just wanted to get it out of his system so he could move on?”

She groaned and let out an exasperated breath. “Do you hear yourself when you talk like this? He’s not that type, not from what I’ve seen. Do you know what the issue is? I think you’re scared. I think that now that you know your feelings might be mutual, it got too real, and you’re afraid it won’t live up to your expectations.”

“Are you done psychoanalyzing me?”

“Am I wrong though?”

Silence.

“Exactly. Talk to him. Or just kiss him, that seemed to get the job done,” she chuckled. “I need to get to sleep now, babe. You gonna be alright?”

That was the million dollar question. While he knew in theory he should feel alright, more than alright even. He wished he could simply shut his mind down and allow himself to bask in the afterglow of sharing a passionate kiss with someone he’d spent all this time longing for.

“I think so,” he finally offered, then ended the call after they shared goodbyes.

——

He set his phone down on his nightstand and buried his face in his pillows. There wasn’t much time left for a proper night’s sleep, but he did feel more relaxed after getting his feelings out to another person. Addressing them with José, however, would be a different story entirely.

“How are you holding up, B?”

Brock rested his head against the lockers and stared up at the ceiling. “I talked myself down in the shower, I’m okay. It was only a kiss, right?”

“Hope your shower pep talk worked, Mr. Brightside, ‘cause here he comes,” Courtney hummed before ducking out of the way, leaving José with a clear path to walk right towards him.

“Hey,” José mimicked Brock’s pose, leaning against the locker and tilting his head against it with his hands shoved into his pockets.

Brock looked over at him and let out a soft chuckle. “You making fun of me?”

“Ain’t my fault your resting pose looks like you tryna be a fuckin’ T-Bird.”

He breathed out a soft laugh and elbowed his shoulder lightly. “Oh, shut up.”

As Brock’s arm dropped back down, his hand lingered. It swung and twitched a bit awkwardly as it shifted ever so slightly closer to José’s. Their skin touched, goosebumps spreading up both of their arms. He inched closer still, letting their pointer fingers link.

José looked up at him, and he could feel the nerves radiating off of him. There was a shyness, a hesitation that still hadn’t dissipated. So, he looked out into the distance, as if they just happened to be occupying the same space. But he held his hand properly, standing in silence with their fingers laced. He stole another glance and saw Brock had relaxed, and couldn’t help but smile as his gaze drifted down to the floor. Suddenly they were nine years old and holding hands for the first time all over again.

The peaceful coexistence lasted until the bell rang, the jarring noise forcing them back into reality. They reluctantly let go of each other’s hands and returned them to their previous positions buried in their pockets.

“I’ll see you at practice?” There was a quiet hopefulness in José’s voice, a vulnerability that made it impossible to hide that it was far beyond just the cheerleading.

Brock bit his lip and nodded. “I’ll be there,” a smile tugged at his lips and he gave his shoulder a light squeeze. He stood at his locker a bit longer as he watched the smaller male walk away, cheeks pink and smile wide.

Courtney laughed softly and took him by the arm. “Come on, puppy love. You’ll have plenty of time to make heart eyes at him later.”

“You make me sound so lame,” he huffed as they made their way down the hall.

“Babe, you do that all on your own. But it’s cute, I’m rooting for you two.”

Brock felt his blood run cold as they rounded the corner, briskly walking past Kyle and two of his friends that were staring him down once he was in their field of vision. “Well, someone needs to be,” he muttered.

“You don’t think they’re gonna go after you or something, do you?”

He winced, pressing his lips into a line. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “but I’m sleeping with a bat under my pillow from now on.”

——

José frowned, after poking Brock’s shoulder for the tenth time or so, he still wasn’t getting a reaction out of him. He was completely checked out, his physical body was there while nothing else was. “Come on, boo,” he took him by the shoulder and tried to shake the life back into him. “Why you all in your head like that?”

Brock blinked rapidly and sat upright. “Hm?” He cleared his throat and chewed his lip. “Nothing, don’t want to worry you about it.”

“You too fuckin’ late on that, so you better just go on and come out with it,” he said simply, shifting so he was sitting cross-legged and facing him.

“Okay, fine,” Brock sighed, leaning back until he was resting against the next level of the bleachers. “I didn’t want to scare you, but I guess I dropped the ball on that. It’s just… obviously Kyle is pissed that you guys broke up, and I think he and his cronies have it out for me now. I know, I know, I must sound totally paranoid.”

He clicked his tongue and looked down, tracing patterns on the floor with his toe. “Nah, I get it,” but then he looked up and put his hand on Brock’s knee. “But you listen to me. I ain’t gonna let no one lay no damn hands on you again. ‘Sides, if any of them try shit they gon’ be blacklisted from getting any cheerleader pussy, and none of them wanna risk that shit.” That elicited a snort from him, causing him to hide his grin behind his hand. “You make a compelling argument,” he propped his elbow on his other knee and rested his chin on his hand.

José moved his hand from his knee to his lower back. “This why you were so afraid to touch me this morning?”

Brock’s body stiffened at the question. He inhaled a deep breath and blew it out slowly, eyes flicking from the ceiling to the ground and back. In a detached voice he answered “Yes.”

He had nothing to go off of but his word, so he nodded, rubbing small circles into his lower back. “Do you remember when we was kids and you’d jump in and help me fight off bullies no matter how many times your mama told you not to? That’s the type of you that you need to be, you just seem so damn worried all the time, always watching over your shoulder. My mama says that’s how you get ulcers and shit.”

It was unnerving to Brock that even after all this time, José figured him out so effortlessly. It was like suddenly being naked - exposed and vulnerable with no way to cover it up. On one hand, it shook him to his very core and made him want to curl deeper into himself and hide away, but on the other, he knew it was something he needed, something that made him feel alive in the most raw, unadulterated way. And maybe that was what pushed him to his feet just then. “Let’s go somewhere,” he said as he turned back to him.

José’s brows knitted and his head tilted to the side, but he got up and threw his bag over his shoulder. “Aight, lead the way,” and with a subtle spring in his step, he followed the taller teen outside of the gym and around back to the parking lot. “Do I get a hint or is this a surprise?”

“Just consider the context clues,” Brock hummed as he strapped the seatbelt across his chest and backed out of the lot.

“Context clues,” he mimicked and rolled his eyes. “Man, you know I’m barely pulling a C- in English.”

Brock reached a hand over and patted his thigh reassuringly. “Just hang tight, babe.”

José conceded and sat quietly (which was a feat in and of itself) for the rest of the ride. Well, almost the rest of the ride, until he figured out where they were going and started bouncing in his seat and hitting Brock’s shoulder. “Aww, we’re going to the playground! You know I’m a sucker for sentimental shit.”

“I had a hunch,” he chuckled as he pulled into a parking spot.

As they stepped out of the car, Brock was already hit with the first wave of nostalgia. The sound of the wind pushing empty swings, the wet, stale smell that lingered after the kids had left because the forecast called for rain. It took him right back to childhood and all the time he had spent there. All the time he had spent with José.

“You remember when we started going just on the cloudiest, almost rainy days ‘cause that’s when it was the emptiest? We thought we was so damn clever,” José recalled with a laugh as he looked up at the sky, covered with a thick gray sheet of clouds.

Brock chuckled as they walked down the path that took them towards the center of the playground. “And we only got stuck in heavy rain, what, four times? Five?” He looked over at the swingset.

José turned to face it, smiling wanely. “That’s where it all began.”

“And ended.”

They wordlessly made their way over and sat on the swings, both of them staring up at the sky, as if something would transcend from above and tell them what their next moves should be.

“Did you ever think about me?” Brock asked, looking ahead instead of up. “When we weren’t talking, you know, just in general…”

José smiled at the ground and clicked his tongue. “We spent four years together. You think Imma just forget you like that?”

Brock looked over at him with a fond expression. “It really was four years, that sounds so crazy when you think about it. That’s like…” he paused to count on his fingers. “It’s more than a fifth of our whole lives. I swear, literally half of my childhood memories involve you. Maybe more.”

“Probably ‘cause y’all let me tag along on your family vacations,” he chuckled, then went quiet. “Are we gonna keep not talking about how we feel now, though?” It felt odd to outright ask him how he felt about the kiss, considering it was entirely his move, but he needed to know where he stood.

His cheeks turned red and he swallowed thickly. “I mean… I’m very good at not talking about things, to be fair.”

“And I’m very good at running my mouth, so maybe we should meet somewhere in the middle.”

Brock got up and sat on the ground across from José. It was one of the rare times he was looking up at him. “So, what’s the middle?”

“Dunno yet. I’m not a planner,” José had started to swing in a playful way where he’d pretend to almost kick him. It was amusing until he swung his leg too far and almost got him for real, and in his scrambling to avoid that, he ended up launching himself off the swing and landing with a thud on top of Brock.

The impact knocked them both down, leaving Brock flat on his back with José on top of him. It took them both a moment to recover before either of them could properly acknowledge the compromising position they had suddenly landed themselves in.

Brock could feel his heartbeat jump into overdrive and his face felt so hot that José’s breath on his skin created a cooling sensation. He licked his lips, mouth feeling dry and words escaping him. At least, that was until he managed a soft “Hi.”

A broad, dimpled grin spread across José’s face. He leaned forward, resting their foreheads together and whispering “Hi” in response.

It took another brief moment for Brock to decide his next move. He ended up wrapping his arms around the smaller teen’s body and let their legs intertwine. He tilted his head just enough for their lips to touch, capturing them in a slow, tender kiss. It felt different when he was initiating it; it sent sparks through his body, every inch of him telling his brain that this was what he wanted, what he needed.

And José needed it just as badly. He melted into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut. One hand moved to cup his face, the other carding his fingers through his hair. It felt natural and familiar, even though the kisses they had shared as kids were innocent, close-mouthed pecks, often with their hands at their sides or in a loose hug.

But this kiss was intimate. It was deep and languid and filled with the desire and longing that had carried over from their last kiss, from every touch and longing gaze they had shared in the interim. Their lips parted, tongues tangling and heads tilting, granting each other as much access as they could physically allow.

Brock’s hand slipped under José’s shirt, his hand spreading across the smooth expanse of skin as he rubbed his back, holding him even closer as well. Nothing was enough, he had to have more after every touch and taste he got.

“Mm…” A soft, pleased sigh escaped José’s mouth in the midst of the heated kisses. The hand he’d had on Brock’s face moved down his chest to fist into the fabric of his shirt, trying to pull him even closer still.

They had been so wrapped up in each other, so utterly lost in the moment, that the sudden, loud crack of thunder nearly scared them senseless. And on top of that, it was starting to rain. So, there went the moment.

“Fuck, we better get out of here,” Brock grunted, reluctantly standing up and helping José to his feet as well. “Come on, I’ll drop you off at home,” he offered as they jogged back up the path and into the car, pulling back onto the road just as the rain started to pour down hard.

When they arrived at the Cancel household, neither of them wanted José to leave just yet. They sat there in silence, hoping the right way to say goodbye would come to them. Brock made an attempt, shifting to face him. “If I, uh, don’t hear from you before then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Do you want to hear from me before then?”

He let out a soft laugh and strummed his fingers across the steering wheel. “I always want to hear from you.”

José leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Text me when you get home, then,” he told him before grabbing his bag and sprinting from the car to the house, lest he get completely soaked.

——

Brock still sat for another moment, letting it all catch up with him. “Everything really does happen on that fucking playground,” he laughed to himself before driving home.

Part of Brock hadn’t even wanted to divulge the details of the playground rendezvous with his well-meaning but overly-invested friends. But, at the same time, it probably wouldn’t have happened without them. So, he sat with them both on his bedroom floor, ready to recount the events.

“Look at that shit-eating grin,” Steve teased. “Alright, spill.”

Brock bit his lip and looked down at his lap. “We went to the playground. You know, the one a couple blocks over. And we were just talking, reminiscing… then one thing led to another and we were making out right there by the swings,” he blushed just from recounting the experience. “Then it started to rain and we had to make a run for it.”

“How anticlimactic,” Courtney pouted, then laughed. “Nah, I’m happy for you, you really almost got some. What do you think would’ve happened if it didn’t rain?”

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it - it was actually one of the only things he could think about. But he didn’t know, in actuality, how it would’ve played out. “I mean, I don’t think we were going to fuck in a playground. Pretty sure that’s illegal anyway.”

“Does he know you’re a virgin?”

The question stopped him dead in his tracks, freezing him in place. The redness in his face spread and deepened and he felt a knot tighten in the pit of his stomach. “No…” he mumbled.

“Are you going to tell him you’re a virgin?”

Brock still couldn’t look either of his friends in the eye. He pulled his knees up under his chin and looked down at his feet. He pressed his lips into a fine line, then exhaled deeply. “I don’t know.”