#more than six but hush n shush

[gorjee-art]

Tagged by: @runningwithscizzorz!

🧠 GET TO KNOW ME GAME 🧠

Rules: answer + tag six people you want to know better!

Favorite color: Pink and Purple, I can't choose between the two so I say it's both!

Last song: BUTCHER VANITY / Yi Xi 🫀🍽️ and ANYMAN

Currently reading: I am not a huge reader, but I am a huge listener! Just finished listening to "Stolen Tongues". 👅

Currently watching: I wanted to binge-watch Columbo again. (That man is silly and that show makes me sleep SO well.)

Currently craving: Something thick...Curry or Broccoli Cheddar soup...and waiting for the stormy weather, the sun's been murdering me. 🥘 🌧️

Coffee or Tea: Leaf water forever, coffee's just not my thing... 🍵

Tagging: @magnuficentwo @stages-of-mania @suenden-hund @moon-wolfie @nu-fshn-iris @myballsitchaurghouchie @catboy-teeth @teashle

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 2)

Summary: The reader has agreed to go out with Dean for one date only but is pretty sure he's just a flirt looking to get in her pants. But Dean is more than he seems and may be the first person she can have a truly honest conversation with in a long time...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 7,600ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping, smut

A/N: I think I gave them too much trauma tbh...oh well!

_________

Eric rapped his knuckles on the doorframe of your home studio but didn’t do anything further to disturb you. You were absently plucking away on a guitar, something quiet and simple, your head spaced out as you listened to the notes over and over. You weren’t sure how it fit just yet but you liked the melody enough to jot it down in a notebook.

“That’s going to be a number one hit someday,” he said. You shrugged, setting the guitar to the side, closing your eyes. “You okay, kid?”

“The team says I’m behind on the next album. I don’t even have a single song,” you sighed. You felt him plop down on the couch beside you, your eyes peeling open, finding his stern ones looking back.

“The whole point of you ditching your first label and doing things through your team is so you’d be in control. You put out a fucking album in March. It’s September. When the hell were you supposed to be writings these songs? During the four hours of sleep a night you got while on tour the past six months?”

“Eric,” you shushed him, putting a hand on his arm. “I’m just venting. If I need you to kick someone’s ass I’ll let you know, alright?”

“Just don’t let them bully you,” he grumbled, getting to his feet. “You ready for this charity date shit?”

“I’ll happily take Dean’s ten million dollars for an hour of suffering. His fault he threw so many touchdowns last night,” you said, Eric pulling you up. “Is everything settled?”

“We rented out the restaurant. The only people inside will be the two of you, myself and his head of security. Apparently he’s famous enough he has his own protection agent, albeit he doesn’t tend to listen to them.” You saw a twinge of annoyance on his face but let it go, instead following him out and down the hall, Eric giving you a side eye. “Aren’t you going to get ready for your date?”

You slid past him and over to your front closet, shoving your feet into a pair of converse. “The man’s seen me in sweats and a hoodie. A Stones t-shirt and skinny jeans should be a step up for him.” 

You swiped your crossbody bag from the front table, Eric sighing. “Let’s get this over with.”

Thirty minutes later you were sitting at a curved booth in a nice italian restaurant. Ordinarily, you never would have rented out a whole place for just yourself. But you were pissed off at your team for trying to get you to capitalize off Dean wanting a date. He seemed like a genuine fan and you’d have a conversation with him for how much he’d donated to the charity. You’d had a long conversation with them last night, with some backup from Eric over it all.

Either they backed off or you’d find a new manager, agent, PR rep, all of it. You’d done it before when you were younger and you had no problem doing it again. 

Between you and Eric, you were pretty sure they were going to back off on the Dean front, at least for now.

You couldn’t help but stare when Dean came into view through the back of the restaurant. He was in a flannel and henley, dark jeans on his long legs. He smiled when he saw you but stopped short when Eric stepped in front of him. He said something you couldn’t hear, Dean flashing a wink that made Eric’s eye twitch. Dean kept approaching though, Eric now in a hushed argument with a woman in jeans and blazer that’d trailed in after Dean.

“Please don’t give my bodyguard an aneurysm. He already thinks you’re sketchy,” you said as Dean slid into the booth with a big grin.

“Oh he’ll warm up to me.” We both turned our heads at raised voices, Eric and Dean’s bodyguard going at it.

“Moron!” Eric shouted, your eyebrows raised. You didn’t have time to question his sudden lack of professionalism before she was shouting back he was a dickhead.

“Everything alright over there?” called Dean, Eric and the woman giving each other death glares before storming off to opposite sides of the restaurant. “Okay…well I’ve never seen Sloane act like that before.”

“Eric either. Weird.” You heard rustling and glanced at Dean, that silly smile still on his face. “You do understand I’m only here because you literally bought your way into a date.”

“True but I like giving to charity and if I get a date with the girl I’ve had a crush on since college, what’s the harm in that?” he teased. You crossed your arms, leaning back in your seat, his smile faltering. 

“Yeah see, that’s creepy. So talk about whatever it is you want to talk about and then we can go our separate ways, alright?” He was frowning now, keeping his hands under the table. There was an still beat. Not awkward but…sad almost. “Just-”

“You think I’m creepy?” he scoffed. You shrugged, Dean’s smile returning but laced with something mean. “Because I asked for a picture?”

“No-”

“Because I posted about going to a concert which fifty thousand other people did that same night?”

“That’s not-”

“Because I gave you my number? Was that my creepy offense? Because I’m surely the first man to-”

“Okay, you know what?” you said, leaning forward, narrowing your eyes at his ridiculously pretty face. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. You might be famous but you aren’t my level of famous. Everywhere in the fucking world people know who I am. Pushy men that give their number and call you their crush and basically publicly shame you into going out with them for money? Yeah, that’s fucking creepy, Winchester.”

Surprisingly, he only sat back in his seat, breathing slowly. “I’m sorry then. Just let me say one thing and then I’ll get up and leave and you never have to talk to me again.”

You unfolded your arms, offering a small nod. Dean bit his bottom lip, letting it go slowly, his chest raising and falling softly.

“You were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen when I walked into that house party my sophomore year. It was the second weekend of the semester and I’d just played my first game as quarterback. I was the backup for our school you know. I was supposed to ride the bench but Dallas got hurt…” he trailed off as you stared at him. “Doesn’t matter. But I remember that party and I remember hearing you singing along to a guitar outside by the fire pit. You uh, you had your hair in a messy bun just like it is right now. You were wearing a Kansas hoodie that was way too big for you and you had on these nike sweatpants and obnoxious orange sneakers like you didn’t give a fuck how you looked. You had no idea how stunning you were.”

You glanced down. You remembered those sneakers. You’d only worn them a few times before your roommate accidentally lost them. 

“Your voice was beautiful. It still is but I’m a little sad you never do anything acoustic like you would back then. Still doesn’t matter,” he said, pausing a beat. “This isn’t a brag but girls threw themselves at me at that party. Every day after that game they did. But the only girl I wanted to get to know, wouldn’t say more than hi because I was a jock. And it took a long time for me to understand why but I do. Because I hate myself too.”

You flicked your gaze up and met his, green eyes boring into yours. You parted your lips but no words came, Dean nodding, a sad smile on his face.

“It wasn’t your fault. Your volleyball practice ran late. Your brother wasn’t your fault.” You bit the inside of your cheek and glanced away. “You hated sports after that. I read an interview that you thought sports were silly once. But I understand why. You don’t hate sports. You hate what they did to you and back then, every student athlete was just a guy that could hurt you or worse, he could get hurt too. I understand hating yourself. I was supposed to be there for my brother too but I stayed at school and fucked it all up. So I get why in college you wouldn’t give me the time of day when all I wanted was one date with the girl that made my heart skip.”

Fingers grazed your chin, cupping it gently as he forced your head up. 

“But I am not creepy for you still making my heart skip and wanting a date. We’re not kids anymore, Y/N. You don’t like me then fine, but give me a chance. Don’t push me out because I’m still a guy who plays sports.”

You gently pushed his hand away, Dean sighing. “Maybe you have a point about the kinds of guys I found attractive in college. The crush isn’t what’s…” You squeezed your eyes shut. “You have had a lot of girlfriends Dean and I mean a lot. You have a new girl every week. It’s clear we are two very different kinds of people. You hookup. I don’t. I’m like a conquest or some shit because you couldn’t get me in college. That’s why we’re not talking after this…whatever the hell this is, again.”

Dean cocked his head, eyes roaming over your body. “So you won’t go out with me because you think I only want to fuck you?”

“Am I wrong?” you asked. He chuckled, his face more lively.

“Sweetheart, I’ll admit, I’d enjoy doing a lot of things with you,” he grinned. “But…I’ll make you a promise. I won’t do anything with you, won’t even fucking kiss you, until you want me to.”

“You realized what you’ve described is friendship?” He shrugged.

“We can call it that if you prefer.” You were still under his careful watch, Dean leaning forward. “But know that when you do eventually fall in love with me I’m so going to rub your face in it.”

“And there’s the cocky flirt,” you said, nodding to yourself.

“Just stating facts,” he said, flashing you a wink as he tucked his hands behind his head. You rolled your eyes, Dean enjoying this far too much. “So-”

“Here’s how this works,” you said, grabbing a menu and sliding it over to him.

“Love a woman in charge,” he teased. You growled, his eyebrows shooting up. “Oh, the princess of pop has a temper. I think I like this sassy side.”

“We eat lunch and we try to be friends,” you said ignoring him. “Anything beyond that is yet to be determined. Are we clear?”

“Oh absolutely,” he grinned. You groaned, gripping your own menu tight. “You’re too fun to tease. I’m only going to keep doing it.”

“Keep it up and see how far that gets you, Winchester,” you grumbled. He stood abruptly, your eyes widening as he slid in next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “What are-”

Hot breath fanned over your ear as you felt rumbling in your chest from his deep laugh. “Sweetheart, I’ll stop teasing the day you stop blushing when I do it.”

You turned your head, Dean’s merely a few inches from your own. He looked fucking cocky and sexy with that know it all smile. 

You hated that you were having more fun with his flirting than you had with a guy in a long time.

“Plus we both got that whole older sibling trauma, insane career pressure thing going on. I mean, match made in heaven right here,” he said, booping your nose. “Fuck, how are you hot and cute at the same time? No wonder the whole world loves you.”

You didn’t mean to but your eyes welled up with tears, Dean instantly pulling his arm back. You shook your head, wiping your face off with the back of your hand. “It’s not you. It’s just…that’s the second time you’ve brought up the thing we’re not…talking about. You know, our brothers. Do you…want to talk about it?”

Dean nodded. “After lunch…and somewhere private if that’s okay.”

“I can agree to that, even if our bodyguards won’t.”

“His house?” groaned Eric thirty minutes later. “His house, Y/N? You don’t know-”

“I don’t but you’ll be there and he needs to talk to someone about his brother and maybe I need a friend that’s not you that I can too. I’ve already made it clear to him that he and I are strictly friends.” Eric mumbled something but relented, the driver following after Dean’s SUV and to his home, only a short drive from your own.

Dean was waiting by the front door when you got out of the SUV, smiling as he opened it up. Eric went straight for Sloane who was nearby, the two of them bickering like cats and dogs, Dean shutting the door after them.

“Those two must have history,” he said, showing you down a front hall and through the middle of his open kitchen and living room, straight through a back door to a patio. You swore you could hear them arguing as you took a seat on an outdoor couch under an umbrella.

“I don’t think Eric’s dated since high school. Maybe they knew each other in the military or something,” you said, Dean humming.

“Could be. Sloane’s pretty much on her own too aside from the occasional hookup,” he said, sitting nearby on the couch. The air was quiet for a few moments as you took in Dean’s backyard, fairly quaint for LA standards, especially NFL quarterback standards.

“Whatever happened with you and Sam, it wasn’t your fault either.” He smiled, titling his head.

“I was supposed to go home that weekend and hangout with him. I was too damn hungover to though so I didn’t. If I’d gone home he wouldn’t have been walking home at night by himself. It wouldn’t have happened to him so it is my fault.”

You closed your eyes. “Well, I was late picking up Max and he walked home at night too so either we were both at fault or neither one of us was.”

“You were late from practice. Your coach made you late, not-”

“We were late because I got to practice late because I was making out with our fucking quarterback in the art room.” You felt him shift closer, arm around your shoulders as you forced yourself to look at him. “I didn’t hate athletes, Dean. I hated that because I was too busy kissing one, my little brother’s life was ruined. We’re old enough to know that it could have happened at any time, whether we were there or not.”

“I know,” he said quietly. You tentatively wrapped your arms around his waist, Dean smiling. “I never knew anyone else that had someone taken from them.”

“Me either. I mean I’ve met some through the charity but no one that knows…” 

“The world thinks you’re perfect because you’re good at your job and you smile for a camera.” You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. “My friend Benny said you talked to him in english about Sammy.”

“I remember him. He was cute,” you said, Dean growling. “Someone jealous?”

“I’m the one pining after you, remember?” He laughed quietly, his long fingers brushing against your exposed arm. “He didn’t tell me until yesterday. I was on edge a lot back then. Even now Sam’s a touchy subject.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.” He shook his head. 

“You’re different. You know how hopeless it feels, what it’s like to have a funeral without a body, without knowing for sure.” You hummed, giving him a gentle hug.

“From our parents perspective, I understand why. We know the statistics and after so many years missing, so many experts telling them their kid is gone-”

“They needed to try to move on,” he finished. His fingers stilled on your skin, his body tense. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to. Not without knowing for sure.”

You smiled, turning your head to meet his own worried eyes. “Me either. Guess we have that unhealthy trait in common.”

“I don’t think we’re doing too bad for ourselves all things considered.” You stood up, taking a few steps away before turning on your heels. Dean’s face was neutral as you crossed your arms. “You don’t like me, do you.”

“I think…” you trailed off, trying to word this nicely. “I think all we have in common is we went to the same college and both have little brothers that were kidnapped. I am open to being friends, Dean. I am. But I don’t think what you want to happen here-”

“You’re wrong.” You frowned as he rose from his seat, stalking over slowly, eyeing you in a way that made you feel very warm all of a sudden. He didn’t stop until he was by your side, staring you down. “I can ignore the blushing, ignore how the second we’re in private you are holding onto me like we’ve known each other more than an hour. I can even ignore how you look at me with those big eyes and pouty lips like you want to climb me like a fucking tree.”

“That is not true.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting it up as he brought his face close, warm breath fawning over your face. “I don’t like you like that.”

“Yes you do and that scares you. I fuck away my fear of intamacy and you hide from it. That’s our problem, isn’t it. You and I hide differently. Well I’m done hiding and girl, you need to be done too. Don’t you get that we are safe for each other? I get that you are going to be nervous about this and you get that I’m not a tool. We can learn together, learn something that is not easy for anyone but especially people like us that have everything so damn publicized. Most of all we can trust each other unlike the rest of the world. We won’t hurt each other and you know it. You just won’t admit it. You won’t let yourself care for someone that isn’t capable of defending themselves. Why do you think your bodyguard is your best friend? You have got to give us-”

“Good god you never shut up,” you said, reaching up and grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. Dean’s lips were instantly moving against yours, not taking ownership of the kiss but giving as much pressure as you were giving.

Hands cupped your cheeks, holding you steady as he smiled, teasingly dipping his tongue inside the dark cavern of your mouth. Dean pulled away much too soon, green orbs staring down, the heat in them cutting right through your core.

“I strike a nerve, sweetheart?” he teased. You scoffed, Dean tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Or does my armchair psychology just turn you on?”

“I was simply trying to get you to shut up.” 

“Oh. Well feel free to shut me up anytime you like.” You growled, Dean cupping your chin and pecking a softer kiss on you. You rose up on your tiptoes, Dean shushing you. “S’okay to admit you like traumatized cocky guys, princess.���

“You are insufferable,” you said, Dean smirking while you poked him in the ribs. “I never said I like you, Winchester.”

“Right,” he said, taking your hand and tugging you along after him. “Well come pretend to hate my company before I have to head to afternoon practice.”

“Insufferable.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

Dean POV

“Hey,” I said late that night, answering my phone when I saw Y/N was calling. “You miss me already, sweetheart?”

“As if,” scoffed Y/N, quiet for a moment. “How was your practice?”

“Alright. How-”

“Just alright?” she interrupted. I raised my eyebrow, even if I was alone in my kitchen. Unlike Y/N, Sloane was the extent of my security team. Between her and myself, we had things covered. Sure, I was famous but it was different than being a pop star. I went to games that had security, a practice facility that had security, sets for commercials where they always had security. My home was in a gated community. The only reason Sloane was even on the payroll was peace of mind for my parents. She didn’t even go anywhere with me unless I asked.

“It was fine. Why?” I asked, Y/N going quiet again.

“Maybe I’m crazy but people that are in relationships generally ask how each other’s day went.” I closed my eyes, biting back a groan. “It’s already past eight. I should go.”

“Y/N-” The phone beeped, a glance down showing the call had ended. “Fuck me.”

I dialed her back, the phone picking up on the fourth ring, Y/N staying silent.

“Don’t hang up on me again.” She sighed softly, my stomach forming a knot. “Y/N…”

“I don’t think this is a good idea. We both have crazy schedules and-” 

“I told you earlier you don’t have to be scared of me. I know that’s what this is. You want to get to know me. Why else would you call? But you want an out too. Well I’m not giving it to you so suck it up cause you’re stuck with me. Understand?”

The line was quiet before I heard a bed creak, followed by a thick swallow. “I never said I’d date you, Dean.”

“Well we are so get used to it.” She mumbled something I couldn’t make out, my stomach still sour. “I will not hurt you, Y/N. That’s a promise.”

“You went out with forty two different women so far this year. Forty two. You spend every weekend fucking a new woman while I…” she trailed off, her voice still to thick for my liking. Was she crying? Fighting back tears? 

“What’s wrong, princess?” I asked gently, her voice hiccuping. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m sorry Dean but I’m clearly not mature enough for any kind of relationship with you. Please forget this happened.” She hung up again, my stomach fully twisted up. 

I was not going to let her fear stop her from living her damn life. I texted Sloane and two minutes later I was calling a different number, swallowing down my nerves.

“Dean Winchester,” said Eric, Y/N’s more than intimidating bodyguard. “Why the fuck are you calling me?”

“I need to know where Y/N lives. I want to go over and check on her.” 

“What the fuck do you mean check on her?” he snapped, a loud scrape in the background like a chair falling over.

“She’s fine! She’s fine,” I said, Eric’s loud growl making my ear hurt. “She’s upset is all and-”

“Let me guess. You made her upset?” I swallowed. 

“Not on purpose. I-” 

“What did I say to you at the restaurant? What the fuck did I say to you?” he grit out. I sighed as I went to my front door and slipped on a pair of sneakers. “I said if you hurt her, I’d fucking make your life hell. And what did you do? Sounds like you fucking hurt her. You understand why the fuck I wouldn’t tell you where she lives?”

“Eric, if you want to beat the shit out of me or bury me in the backyard or do whatever the hell you want to me, then fine. Go ahead. But she’s sitting in her house crying right now and this is something you can’t fix. So save my murder until after I can make her feel better, alright?”

“I’d rather shoot my own dick off than tell your slutty ass where she lives. I will check on her-”

I grabbed my keys off the front table and went outside, squeezing my phone tight. “Has she ever had a boyfriend?”

“Why the fuck-”

“Because you know as much as I have she hasn’t, not since Max was taken. She is scared of getting close to people and you know it. You’re the one person that’s been by her side since she got famous, aren’t you? I am asking you as someone that cares about her, as people that both care about her, please tell me. I need to at least try and help her know she’s not a lost cause.”

“Why on earth would she think that?”

“Because I have the same head as her,” I said, slipping behind the wheel of my SUV. “Be at the house too, I don’t care. But let me try, man. Please.”

The line was quiet, my heart in my throat as the seconds passed by.

“9 Hunt Lane. She’s a three minute drive from your house. Tell the guard at the gate ‘Cherry Blossom’ and they’ll let you in.”

“Thank you,” I said, starting the car.

“If you fuck with her-”

“I know. You’ll cut my balls off or some shit,” I said, opening my gate and backing out.

“Oh that’d be the nicest thing I’d do to you.” I didn’t put it past him that it was the truth. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Don’t trust me, buddy?” I tried to joke but it came out forced. 

“I’m your fucking nightmare, not your buddy.” He hung up and I stared at the phone a moment.

“I would hate to know how you treat me if I wasn’t your favorite player,” I mumbled, taking off and in front of Y/N’s house before I knew it. I hadn’t realized we lived in the same neighborhood, just opposite sides. Her security guards at the gate were giving me a good side eye until I uttered the magic words. The next thing I knew, I was being let in the front door of the house by them, the thing closing tight after me, one of them locking it back up from the outside.

I kicked off my shoes and walked through the massive front hallway to the back of the house, looking all around but finding it dark. Until I glanced upstairs, a light coming from down the hallway. I quickly jogged upstairs, pausing halfway down the hall to a pair of double doors, one of them open.

“Y/N, it’s me Dean,” I called out so I didn’t frighten her. I could have sworn I still heard a sharp intake of air inside. “Eric gave me the secret password to get in. You’re going to have to tell me what cherry blossoms means some…”

My mouth snapped shut when I stepped into the room, Y/N wiping away at her eyes with the sleeves of an oversized hoodie. I frowned and walked in further, pulling away her hands from where she sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Oh sweetie.” My heart clenched at the site of her red, puffy eyes, at the dried tear tracks down her cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m what’s wrong!” she growled, trying to push me away but my hands around her wrist stopping her in place. “You want me? Me? I’m a fucking disaster, Winchester.”

“If you’re one then so am I.” She shook her head as I knelt in front of her, Y/N looking over my head. “Talk to me, princess.”

“At least you’ve had relationships and fucked other people.” I stared up at her, a pair of harsh eyes looking down at me. “I’m thirty two years old and as far as I’ve ever gotten was a kiss. A kiss. Because all men want is my money or fame or to fuck the virgin. To screw the pop princess and further their own careers.”

“Y/N-”

“The second I care about someone and let my guard down, they’re gonna hurt me or worse. Someone’s gonna hurt them and I can’t do jack shit,” she shot out, her chest heaving as more tears flowed. She stared me down, shrugging. “I’m too hurt to believe that you don’t want me for me, that you won’t get hurt too. You will get hurt. People want to be with me and if you were, you’re just a target. A fucking bulls eye on your back for life. Either you fuck me over or someone fucks you over. That’s all there is. That’s it. So why the fuck would I sign up for that? Why would I-”

I leaned forward and tilted my head up, catching her lips briefly. I hated the taste of salt on them, of the way I could feel her body shake as she fought back even more tears. I pulled back slowly, keeping close, her big eyes watching me with so much fear but something else too.

Desire. Longing.

“Remember earlier when we said we both had to learn and we’d do that together? Well that’s what this is, princess. So you get scared and I’ll be here to remind you to, okay?” I whispered, kissing the tip of her nose. She looked so confused, watching as I wiped off her face with my hand. “I don’t give a fuck that you’re a virgin by the way. You deserve to choose how and when you want to love someone with your body and that’s your choice alone.”

Her bottom lip wobbled as she nodded, my thumb running over it.

“Don’t be afraid of me, baby,” I murmured, tucking a piece of damp hair behind her ear. “Tell me who hurt you so much to make you think you’re unlovable.”

Her eyes shimmered, gaze casting down. “He was my responsibility. I was supposed to protect him and…” She forced her head up, face scrunching up as I held her cheeks. “I’m going to fuck that up again. Whatever man I’m with, I’m going to let him down. I’m going to let my partner down again. And I’m too weak to stop it.”

“Hey, hey,” I said softly, waiting a beat until she was looking at me, bleary eyes, runny nose and and all. “I am your partner and you will not let me down. We will protect each other. That’s how it works.”

“You don’t know what it’s like,” she whispered, voice ragged. “The attention. The death threats. The creeps. The way people write letters and offer information on Max that are full of lies. You’re famous but it’s not like this. All of that will happen to you too. I can’t protect you from it, Dean. No one can.”

I touched my forehead to hers, shushing her when she shivered. “You’re right. It’d be another crazy ass level of infamy that I don’t know. And people will hate me for it. But they hate me already for losing games, for getting a flag, for not running when they don’t know the fucking plays. People will hate us for no reason no matter what we do. So why the hell wouldn’t I want to be happy with you while that’s happening?”

She sighed, gently taking hold of my hand. “I’m not the girl with the designer clothes and hair extensions and fake eye lashes with a smile everyone thinks I am. This is what I am behind closed doors, Dean. Why would you ever want this?”

“Because I fell for the girl who looked like a hot mess around a backyard campfire, the sweet one that valued her school work and gave the boys without the good looks attention because of what was in their heads. You have a charity to try and shut down trafficking rings. You have never said a bad thing about another celebrity when we know some of them deserve it. Don’t you know how good of a soul you have, princess? Scars and all, it’s the one I want.”

I ran my finger down the curve of her cheek, her free hand going to my shoulder, gripping it gently. 

“It’s so unfair,” she said, sliding her hand up to my face. “You’re only supposed to be a handsome cocky flirt. You’re not supposed to be sweet too.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I whispered as she tilted her head closer, her breath warm, a faint whiff of mint in the air. “I know you want me. So take me.”

Y/N’s eyes grew a sliver darker, nose jammed against my own. “You sure you want that?”

“I’m already yours.” She crashed her lips to mine, tugging on my hand. She wouldn’t let me breakaway as I rose to my feet, crawling onto the bed as she laid back. I yelped when her legs wrapped around my waist and she flipped me to the other side of the bed, her body straddling mine. She lowered her torso, dipping in a way that made my cock strain in my jeans, her face only inches from mine. “You sure you’ve never done this before?”

“I said I’ve never had sex. Never said I’d be innocent.” She said, pressing her lips to mine, a twinge of something in her face pulling her back after a second. “I’m not ready for that tonight.”

“That’s okay,” I reassured her because it completely was. She eased and brought her head down, kissing under my jaw and doing nothing to ease the twitch in my dick. 

“Your dick seems to have other plans,” she murmured. 

“Ignore him,” I said, cupping her face so she saw I was serious. “You are wildly unphased about the fact a cock is poking into the back of your thigh for someone who’s never even seen one you realize?”

“I’ve seen them, just not in person,” she said, eyes going to my lips. “And I wouldn’t say unphased is what I am…just don’t want to send the wrong impression.”

“Is it turning you on?” I asked carefully, Y/N nodding once. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Keep it to your hands,” she said quietly, before kissing me again. I let her run things, her slow wandering fingers quickly tugging in my hair as her kiss turned rougher. She gasped when I put my hands on her waist and squeezed, earning me one of her hands fisting my shirt. She was getting into it, her breath hitching for barely a moment as I slid a hand under the waistband of her sweats, under the cotton underwear.

Her hips rolled while my fingers made their way over her smooth mound and suddenly I was touching her slit, teasingly gracing the tip of one finger through her folds.

“Oh,” she said, when I brushed her clit, her eyes meeting mine. I stared up at her, the room dead silent. A grin spread onto her face, a giggle escaping. “I didn’t mean for you to stop. Feels different from when I do it.”

“Good different or bad different?” I asked, still not moving.

“Your fingers are bigger than mine,” she said, rocking her hips forward, my finger rubbing against her. “Definitely a good different.”

I blinked a few times, shaking my head with a big smile. “Y/N Y/L/N. Are you humping my hand?”

“Yeah. And?” she asked, grinding her hips down, biting her bottom lip. 

“Definitely not innocent,” I said, moving my fingers again, Y/N’s lips parting when I slipped a finger inside her wet core, leaving my thumb to rub circles around the bundle of nerves. 

“More,” she whispered, capturing my lips, a breathy moan rising up her throat as I pushed another finger inside. I curled them and rubbed, Y/N’s body sparking like a live wire. “What the fuck…”

I ground my palm against her clit as I thrust my fingers inside her, slamming right against her g-spot. Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut as she full body shuddered, this one clearly pleasant, head shaking once.

“Go with it,” I murmured as she yanked on my hair, her body unsure of what to do with this kind of pleasure. I’d only heard it described to me but I knew there was a difference between a normal orgasm and one that came from hitting that spot deep inside, one her little fingers couldn’t quite reach.

Her jaw dropped as her eyes fluttered open, giving me a chance to lean up and kiss her as she rode out the first wave of an orgasm.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” she panted against my lips, voice growing higher. Y/N whimpered when she went straight into a second orgasm, her hips jerking frantically, searching for more. 

Finally when her legs were quivering and she put a hand on my wrist, I stopped moving, Y/N rolling onto the bed beside me. She breathed hard with closed eyes, a thin layer of sweat on her face. I carefully started to pull my hand away, her hand squeezing my wrist hard. She forced her eyes open, no shred of worry or fear in them now.

“Do that again,” she whispered, removing her hand from my wrist and sliding it over to my stomach, down towards the obvious bulge in my pants. 

“Y/N-”

“I can trust you, right?” I nodded, Y/N working my belt open. “Then trust me too.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. She smiled, lazily nodding. 

“I’m not the only one with a problem connecting to someone. I’m just the one that cried all over themselves before you helped me. Now it’s your turn.” 

“Okay,” I whispered, Y/N stopping after unbuttoning the denim. Her eyes flickered to find mine, her hand moving up to tickle the skin of my stomach. 

“If you’re with me, you’re with me, Dean. No one else.”

“I already told you, princess. I’m yours.” She raised her chin, satisfied with that answer. But still, she didn’t move. “What’s wrong?”

“Why won’t you commit to anyone? Honest answer.” I closed my eyes, her small hand on my face making me slowly open them. “I’m not going to hurt you either.”

“Part of it is Sam. Feeling responsible, not wanting to feel that pain again. Love would…” I trailed off.

“Someone that can destroy you again.” I nodded, removing my hand from her pants, letting it rest on her hip instead. 

“I don’t want that pain,” I whispered. “And I don’t get it as bad as you but women just want to use me. Date a NFL player and they can launch their influencer careers or model or whatever. So I let them use my body instead and I used theirs and I didn’t have to worry about getting hurt. But that’s not the real reason.”

Y/N ran her fingers through my hair, looking at me with the softest eyes I’d ever seen, reminding me of Sammy for a split second.

“It’s hard to move on when you’re still hung up on the girl from college that wouldn’t give you the time of day.” She swallowed down a thick lump in her throat, watching me oh so carefully, looking for any sign of bullshit. I didn’t blame her one bit. “I told you I had a crush on you.”

“You get over crushes,” she whispered, her voice gentle.

“You do. S’really fucking weird though to get a crush on a girl who went through the same shitty life experience as you, who ended up having as massive of a career as you, all before you ever knew that shit about her. Life’s funny like that, isn’t it.”

“If Sam hadn’t gone missing-”

“I would have pursued you. But I was so goddamn broken my last two years of school, I couldn’t handle that kind of rejection. Everybody thinks Finish Line is such a happy song because of the beat but it’s fucking tragic, isn’t it? I never saw that until after he was gone. I knew only someone in pain could have written those lyrics. Neither one of us back then were ready for a relationship, not when it was so raw.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But I wish I could have been there for you back then.”

“Want to know something embarrassing? I have a playlist that’s just your songs. I listen to it before every game for luck. I would wish I’d said something to you in college because now you’re so beautiful and so famous and I’m the emotionally distant playboy you’d never go out with. I’d have to do something stupid like bribe you into a date by giving to your charity. That guy’s a fucking loser all because he never got over you…and I still don’t know if you just pity me or if you actually might like me too.” Water welled in her eyes again, my hand reaching out to catch it.

“We’re going to make a promise,” she said, holding my hand to her chest. “We don’t hate ourselves anymore. You’re not the playboy anymore. I’m not afraid of moments like this. You’re Dean and I’m Y/N and we like each other. We are two people dating and figuring it out like everyone else in the world. You are not a loser, Winchester. Promise?”

“Promise,” I said, lacing our fingers together. I chuckled, Y/N scooting closer to rest her head on my shoulder. “Look at us. I think we’re getting the hang of this having a healthy relationship thing.”

“People make it seem so hard,” she joked, wrapping her arm around my waist. “Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you harassed me into that date.” I smirked, Y/N growling. “Don’t let it go to your head or I won’t give you a handjob.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I teased, Y/N eyeing me as her hand shifted downwards. “Hey, you really don’t have-”

She covered my mouth with a finger, shushing me. “I want to. Just tell me if I can make it better for you, okay?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to do just fine with it, princess.”

One Hour Later

I jogged downstairs, leaving Y/N lax in bed, completely blissed out from another round of orgasms. Turns out she had a pretty damn healthy sex drive. I cut her off at a blowjob though. She’d had an emotional night and I wanted her to feel good, not self-conscious about going too fast. I’d told her to wash up and clean off her face while I dished up our takeout and brought it up. Neither of us had eaten dinner yet and it wasn’t hard to convince her to split a pizza and garlic bread with me. 

Downstairs I poked around her kitchen for a bit before I found some plates, napkins and a pair of water bottles. 

“Here.” I jumped at the sudden voice, spinning around to find Eric setting a pizza box and smaller container on the kitchen island. 

“Uh, thanks. How-”

“Guards at the gate have a card they use to pay for takeout with,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. “Your hair is tousled.”

I reached up to pat it down, Eric stalking over to me, cornering me against the counter. “Listen-”

“She needs a good man, not a fuckboy.” I cocked my head at him, Eric crossing his arms.

“You don’t know me,” I said, moving past him, setting everything on top of the pizza box.

“Yes I do,” he said behind me, hairs on the back of my neck standing up. “You’re going to butter her up because you share a history, break down her walls until you get in her pants. You’re already getting in, obviously. Once you fuck her a few times, then you’ll be gone, playboy Winchester got the pop princess, like a predator that caught his prey finally. Press will fucking love it and you’ll be able to fuck literally any woman on earth you want to which is all you want, isn’t it?”

I spun around, a dark scowl on his face as I pressed my chest to his, hands clenched by my side.

“You can be an ass to me all you want. You can think what you want. I know you care about her, love her even. So put on the tough guy act all you want. But we both know you wouldn’t have told me where she lives, wouldn’t have given me the magic password if you thought I would hurt her. You know exactly the kind of man I am. I bet you fucking know better than most people in the world, don’t you?”

He had two inches on me and used it to stare me down, his jaw clenched, a vein in his forehead pulsing. “She is not the kind of girl you hookup with. It’s all or nothing with her.”

“I will give her my all. I swear.” He bumped my shoulder as he walked past me, footsteps stopping a few feet behind me.

“If you love her the way I know you do, then you better.”

“How do you know I do?” I asked but he walked away and out the front door. Whatever. He wasn’t my concern anyway. I grabbed the box and headed upstairs, ready to enjoy dinner with my girl.

________

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[wendigonamecaller]

Climbing The Ladder. Chapter 2.

Desc: Amoura Morningstar, Lucifer's oldest daughter, once thought to be the future Queen of Hell. Once Charlie came around, that title was ripped from under her feet as Lilith became enamoured by the youngest Hellspawn in the family, and begged Lucifer until he legally named Charlie the next Queen.

Stung by the queen's betrayal and her father's increasingly growing worry for his wife, she begins to distance from Lilith and becomes the very picture of a daddy's girl, doing her best to make the King of Hell proud of her. Until suddenly sometime after Alastor disappears, she drops off the face of Hell with very few people knowing where she went or if she was even alive.

Seven years later, Alastor resurfaces with the older princess by his side, and with them, twin hellborn fawns.

(This work of fanfiction is rated M for mature; sexual themes, pregnancy, sexual content, drug use, alcohol, self harm, suicide mentions and attempts, and other dark themes. MDNI!)

Taglist:

Chapter 2: Only The First Glance.

"You're.. sure..?" Alastor muttered the question, sitting in an arm chair across from Amoura.

The princess nodded quietly, her ears drawn back against her head. It meant she was nervous, and not the good kind of nervous. Something twisted in the stag, seeing her ears pressed backwards instead of to the sides like whenever he had used to kiss her or flirt with her, or when he'd used to make a sexual gesture towards her, the slight fear in her silver gaze was a sickening switch from the flustered and prideful glances he'd see, knowing she was the only one capable of getting his desires to surface.

Alastor's grin tightened and his own ears fell backwards, his brows etching together in what would be a frown if he would allow his lips to follow.

"Are you.. okay, darling?" He offered, uncharacteristically quiet.

Amoura's silver eyes glided from the carpeted floor to him, shock glimmering in her gaze for a moment before going downcast again. "I just told you that we have twins, yet you ask me if I'm okay..?" She mumbled, lips wobbly as she fought to smile despite her heart wrenching in her chest.

The stag nodded, standing and approaching her, sitting next to her on the couch, his instincts to calm the doe kicking in as he pressed his knee into her own.

"How.. how old, are they?" He asked when she didn't make a further comment.

"They'll be six in a couple of months.." She muttered, slightly relaxing when his hand begins rubbing at her back. Her pointed tail wraps around his wrist lightly.

"I.. I was going to tell you, but then you disappeared and I just.. couldn't let their souls be destroyed.." she muttered, her voice beginning to shake as black pooled into her white sclera.

"And now.. I love them so much.. they're my whole world." She whimpered, and he tucked her head under his chin.

"Hush now darling, I wouldn't have made you get rid of them." He whispered and rubbed her back more as he held her close to console her the way he knew only he could get away with.

"I thought you had a seal, though? To keep something like that from happening?" He asked genuinely curious.

"I don't know what happened with it, it's still there, but I'm not sure why you bypassed it so easily." She said, pulling away from his embrace.

They're cut off by Arthur running into the room and climbing onto his mother's lap. His red eyes were clouded by tears and he whimpered.

"Little stag, what's the matter?" Amoura asked, cupping his cheeks with both hands.

"I-I fell tryin' to reach a snack.." He admitted, half in pain, half guilty.

"A snack-? Lovebug you didn't even eat supper." His mother soothed, rubbing his shin gently as he curled into her and weeped.

"I-I was e-excited, we don't n-normally have guests longer than an h-hour.."

She shushed him gently, holding him close and rocking him as the little blond soothed himself with the thrum of his mother's heartbeat.

Alastor watched with a soft gaze.

After a few moments, the princess made Aruther face her and she wiped his tears. She bent slightly and pressed a peck to his shin, the forming bruise melding back into the carmel skin tone Alastor was sure the little fawn had gotten from him. "Where's that smile I adore so much?" She hummed, pinching Arthur's cheeks lightly.

He giggled, his lips parting into a grin that revealed teeth like his mother's. Mostly flat with sharp canines, a few missing. Amoura gave her son a soft smile, kissing his forehead. "That's more like it. You can have your snack, but if you're still hungry tell me so I can reheat some supper. Alright?" She asked and the little spawn beamed with a nod before bolting back towards the kitchen.

Amoura smiled lovingly, her ears dipping to the sides as she watched him go, Amara not far behind.

"He looks like you." Alastor commented, thinking fondly of how similarly the boy looks to the princess next to him.

"Sometimes he acts like you. Especially when me or his sister gets hurt. He goes feral, makes me worry about his control over his powers. But, they both love listening to radio, which calms them down thankfully." She tells him, looking over to the radio Alastor had given her nearly three decades prior.

The Radio Demon chuckled, standing and approaching the old radio. "You still have it?" He asked, picking it up from the shelf it was on.

The blonde nodded, coming to stand next to him. "It's needed fixed a few times, but I manage. Amara especially loves it." Amoura says, watching as Alastor places it back on the shelf and messes with the dials until a song he had showed her years ago began playing, and he held a hand out for her.

"Care to dance, ma chere?" He asked, and her ears flattened to the sides of her head as a blush crept up her neck and cheeks, her clawed hand meeting his glove covered one with a flustered smile.

"Of course, cher."

-♡

"Mama, who was that man?" Arthur asked as Amoura tucked him into his bed.

"Just a friend I've not seen in a long, long while peu d'amour." She tells him, sitting on the side of his mattress.

"Oh, okay." He hums tiredly, closing his eyes at the princess kisses his head.

"Goodnight, mama." He mumbles.

"Goodnight my little stag, sweet dreams." After that, she steps out of his room and shuts the door, quietly making her way towards her daughter's room across the hall.

When she poked her head in, Amara was sitting on her bed playing with a stuffed imp toy, singing softly to herself as she waited patiently for her mother.

"Alright petit, bed time." Amoura chimed, and the little doe quickly scrambled under he blankets as her mother approached.

The blonde pulled the dark magenta duvet up to her daughter's shoulders, tucking her in before settling on the bed next to her. The little girl always took longer to fall asleep, taking after her father, whereas Arthur was more like how Amoura used to be before Alastor disappeared for those seven years, out like a light as soon as he hit the pillow.

"Mama, can you tell me about daddy again?" The red-head asked, silver eyes glimmering with a hope the demoness couldn't deny.

"Of course, my love." She cooed, stroking Amara's rosie cheek. "What do you wish to know?"

"Was he nice?" The little girl asked.

Amoura smiled lovingly. "Most of the time, but not to everyone." She says, leaning onto her left hand.

"Was he ever mean to you?" The red-haired girl asked, her elkish ears flicking and black button nose twitching in curiosity.

"Once," The princess recalled, fighting the urge to laugh at the ridiculous memory. "Never again after that."

"Did he feel bad?"

"Immensely, especially because I was already having a bad day and had started crying."

[golbrocklovely]

never needed // colby brock

A/N: so fun fact about this fic is that i came up with it last year back in november. it was around the time me and my ex best friend stopped being friends. i was really in such a rough headspace, and i think the concept shows it. i just finished writing it today and wow... i still feel this way to some extent, but not fully (thank god). also i literally cried while writing it today so there’s that. hope yall enjoy this one. i'm trying to post a bunch of fics since this coming week is my bday (the 14th). no guarantees, but i'm trying my best to put out at least six things. let me know what you think of this one. see yall later :)

prompt: colby has been ghosting you for a while, just when things were starting to get good between you two. after a week of ignoring you, he’s finally ready to talk. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: angst, cursing, heartache, crying, honestly this one is really sad so sorry about that, happy ending tho

word count: 2331

~~~~~~~

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I groaned to myself, staring at my phone.

Colby was still ignoring me, something I had grown accustomed to this week. He had ghosted my calls and my texts. He turned his read notifications off too, so I had no clue whether or not he had even seen my messages at all.

Everything had been going great between us. We had met a couple years back and hit it off as friends right away. I always thought he was attractive, and our friendship was always really flirty; so much so that fans thought we were together. And then finally, something clicked a couple months back. I wasn't sure if it was the accidental drunken kiss we shared, or just a built up of feelings, but we finally decided that maybe we should test out an actual relationship.

We promised each other we would take it slow, both of us still heartbroken from our previous relationships and our general trust issues. But these past two months, we went into overdrive, actually taking the time to feel each other out as boyfriend and girlfriend.

And for the first time, I felt happy. Genuinely happy.

A week ago, we had even gone on a cute little date, something we had started doing regularly. We were in the middle of our conversation; I remember I laughed hard at something he said. It was loud enough that some of the patrons in the restaurant stared at us. And when he tried to shush me jokingly, a silence had fallen over us.

His face dropped suddenly, he became super serious and quiet, and then he asked if we could go home.

He told me the next day that he thought he got food poisoning and it just hit him in the restaurant. I didn't think anything of it and was fine with going home early.

But now, I wonder if he was lying.

I looked back down at my phone, reading over my messages from the past week to him.

Was I taking this too far? He could have just been busy. I don't wanna come across as clingy.

"Ugh, fuck that." I muttered out loud to myself, rolling out of my bed to get a drink.

I didn't care if I came across as clingy. I had a right to know why he was ignoring me. If it was work related, he would have told me. He had done that in the past before.

This was different, I just knew it.

Tomorrow, I planned to go over and see him. I would have done it tonight, but I knew he wasn't home. He was out with some friends at Saddle Ranch. Like a fan, I had to watch his stories on Insta, since that was the only way I knew where he was.

"Don't expect too much from him." Sam said.

I shook my head at that memory. When we got together, everyone was happy for us. But I could feel a certain tension in the room, a certain caveat that wasn't being mentioned. Later that night, Sam and I were by ourselves, and he asked me if Colby and I had really made our relationship official. I told him we hadn't gone all the way, but that we were taking it one step at a time.

"I'm happy for you guys, really. I just wonder..." His voice trailed off.

I cocked my head. "Wonder what?"

"Look, I love you both, but I don't know if Colby is really ready for a relationship. There's a lot of things he still needs to work through." He stated.

"We're not that serious." I laughed.

"Yeah, yet. If you plan to be, I just don't want you to get your heart broken because he wasn't ready." Sam admitted.

I patted his shoulder lightly, smiling. "Relax, Samuel. Everything will be fine."

"Alright. Just... don't expect too much from him, okay?" He mentioned, his eyes narrowing on mine.

That had been two months ago and... I think I should have heeded his warning.

A loud knock at my front door brought me out of my thoughts, scaring me. I grabbed a knife from my kitchen, striding over to the door. I glance through the peephole to see who was there.

Colby's face stared back.

"Y/N, it's me. Can you open the door?" He called.

I scowled at him through the peephole. "Sorry she's not home right now. Maybe you should try responding to her texts.”

“Look I'm sorry, but that's why I came over. I wanted to talk in person.” He replied.

“Damn, that’s a shame. Too bad she’s not home!” I exclaimed angrily.

“C’mon now, don’t be childish.” He remarked.

I swung the door open, holding back from yelling into my hallway. “Childish?!”

He smirked at me. “I knew that would get you to open the door.”

“You’re not funny.” I deadpanned, glaring at him.

“Can you please let me in? I seriously want to talk.” Colby responded, his eyes landing on mine.

“No, Colby. It’s one o’clock in the morning, I don’t feel like talking, and you’re drunk.” I jeered, resting my hands on my hips.

He scrunched up his face dramatically. “No, I’m not. I only had like two drinks.”

“Oh my mistake. I figured a person that randomly comes over to talk at the ass-crack of night is usually drunk,” I quipped. “Don’t you have better things to do, like be at Saddle Ranch?”

He stepped back, raising an eyebrow. “How’d you know I was at Saddle Ranch?”

I could feel my cheeks heat up. “Because… I watched your stories.”

“Nice to know you pay attention to me,” he uttered under his breath. “Please let me in.”

“No. Fuck off, Colby.” I hissed.

He rolled his eyes at my comment. “If you don’t let me in, I’m just gonna make noise out here in the hallway until you do.”

“Bet.” I huffed.

“What was your favorite movie again… ‘10 Things I Hate About You’?” He questioned, stepping back further into the hallway.

I blinked. “Yeah, so what?”

He looked up at me, giving me a devilish smile. “…You’re just too good to be true.”

My face dropped at his voice. “Colby.”

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” He sang, pointing at me.

“Are you really-” I started.

He cut me off, running his hands down his body. “You’d be like heaven to touch.”

I hushed. “Seriously stop-”

“I wanna hold you so much.” He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself.

I grunted, smacking my hand towards him. “Colby, it’s one in the morn-”

“At long last, love has arrived.” He opened his arms wide.

“Shut the fuck up!” I whisper-shouted.

“And I thank God I'm alive.” Colby praised up towards the ceiling.

I retorted. “You’re fucking embarrass-”

He spun in a circle slowly. “You're just too good to be true.”

“I knew giving you the code to my apartment was a bad idea.” I grumbled.

“Can't take my eyes off of you.” He winked, pointing at me again.

Colby took a big inhale, ready to start singing the music, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him into my apartment.

I slammed my door shut, locking it quickly. “Next time you do something like that, I’m gonna kill you.”

“That’s not very- why do you have a knife?” He motioned toward the knife sitting on my side table.

“What-? Oh, I thought you were an intruder.” I explained.

He lightly smiled, his dimples appearing. “You think an intruder would knock?”

I snapped, annoyed. “Aren’t you here to apologize?”

“Right, right,” he cleared his throat, his demeanor changing. “Y/N, I’m deeply sorry.”

“Sure.” I narrowed my eyes, walking towards my kitchen.

He followed me. “I know what I did was fucked up. I should have responded to you.”

“You completely ignored me for over a week.” I informed him, resting my back against the counter.

He nodded. “I know. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I crossed my arms uncomfortably. “…were you busy?”

“No, not really.” He divulged, dropping his head.

“So, you purposefully ignored my calls and text…” I could feel my hands shake against my arms.

“You make it sound bad-” He mumbled.

“It is that bad.” I emphasized, stopping him. “Colby, you wanna talk about being childish? That shit was childish.”

He agreed. “I know it was.”

“Obviously not since you keep joking about it.” I argued.

“I’m not trying to joke,” he protested, running his hands through his hair. “Do you wanna know the honest to God truth?”

“Of course I do.” I answered, furrowing my eyebrows.

He exhaled, glancing at me. “When we first got together, even though we were taking it slow, I was terrified to date you.”

“Terrified?” I puzzled.

He swallowed hard. “Yes. Scared shitless.”

“Why?” I questioned.

“I thought it was because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But then… at dinner,” his voice lowered, his shoulders dropping. “I realized it was more than that.”

I shook my head, confused. “What are you ta-”

“I’m falling in love with you, Y/N.” He confessed.

His words made me step back, my breath hitching in my throat.

I choked. “What?”

“When you laughed really hard, and did that cute snort thing you do, I remember we looked at each other… and all I saw was you,” his eyes bore into mine, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. “No one else in that restaurant existed. And in that moment, I wanted to tell you I love you.”

I stammered out words, unable to think clearly. “S-so… you-”

“When I felt it, I knew I had to go home. Because I was just so shocked at the feeling. I haven’t felt that way for anyone in a long time.” He sighed exhaustingly, “and… I apologize that I ignored you. Every time I saw your messages, I knew I should have responded. But my body, my mind, wouldn’t let me.”

I frowned. “Because you love me?”

“Because… I’m scared to love you.” He admitted.

A heavy silence fell over the apartment. I shuddered out an exhale, not even noticing I had been holding my breath in for so long. Colby closed his eyes, twisting up his face, and turned his back to me.

“Why are you scared to love me?” I gulped, scared of his answer.

His shoulders tensed as he gripped the counter. “The last time you felt heartbroken… did it leave you feeling empty? Because that’s how I felt… for so long. It’s not even the empty feeling that bothered me. It was the fact that I knew something used to be there… and now it’s gone. I miss who I was before.”

I opened my mouth, but no words escaped.

“I have this deep, guttural feeling that you’re gonna realize I’m not worth loving, and that there is someone else out there that is, and you’re gonna leave me.” His voice trembled as he spoke, “everyone… always leaves me.”

I gasped quietly. “Colby-”

He turned back to me, his face becoming red. “I just feel like no one ever needs me, you know? Like some people only keep me around because they don’t have the heart to just tell me they don’t care anymore. Even Sam has someone else.

I consoled. “That’s not-”

“And I know it’s selfish to want everyone around me to only want me. I don’t really feel that way. I just… don’t feel like anyone really needs me as much as I need them,” his chest quaked as his breathing began to speed up. “And when you realize it too… I don’t think I can live through that fall out again. I don’t think I’m gonna survive it.”

“Wait, Col-” I murmured.

“At that dinner, I had this gut-wrenching anxiety come over me; a voice in my head that said ‘she’s gonna leave you too’ and… I’m just so sorry.” He panted, his eyes welling up.

I wrapped my arms around him tightly, pressing his body into mine as hard as I could. He buried his face into my neck, his body almost going limp against mine.

I couldn’t help my own tears spill as they landed on his shirt. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way before?”

“I was ashamed. I should be stronger than this.” He fumed through his tears.

I rubbed his face lovingly. “Who said that? You are strong. Expressing your emotions is strong.”

He nodded, croaking. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course. How about tonight you stay over, and then in the morning, we’ll talk about this more? Okay?” I suggested, resting my hands on his forearms.

“Yeah.” He whimpered.

I smiled brokenly. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

I lightly grasped Colby’s hand, pulling him slowly into my bedroom. He stumbled along, his head remaining down.

I sat him down on the bed and slid off his jacket, placing it on my dresser. I cupped his face, tracing his jaw with my fingers. His eyes finally landed on mine as I tilted his head up.

I leaned down and kissed his lips, resting my forehead against his.

“I’m not gonna leave you, Colby.” I stated, gazing into his eyes.

He begged in a hushed tone. “Please don’t.”

“I won’t. I promise.” I reassured, kissing his forehead.

I walked over to the other side of my bed and laid down. Colby kicked off his shoes, taking his belt off and pulling his jeans down. After getting undressed, he slid into bed with me, laying his head down softly on my chest. Wrapping his arms around me, he buried his head into my neck again, sighing against my skin. I ran my fingers through his hair, a light hum falling from his lips. I ran my other hand up and down his spine, feeling him shiver under my touch.

“We’ll be okay, Colby.” I whispered.

[foodieforthoughts]

I Would Do It Again - Three

Summary: Anya Adams, a troubled soul but fierce on the outside, stumbles over a stranger at a party and ends up sharing more than just her name. She’s in for a whirlwind encounter when he turns out to be her boss. Striking up a deal for pleasure, Anya soon finds herself mixing work and play. For someone who swore off love, would she let the handsome Brit break down her walls?

Pairing: AU Henry Cavill x OFC

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, bodily fluids

A/N: I just realized I do not like writing in first POV and I have no idea why I had decided to write this series like this. Unbeta-ed so please ignore my mistakes. ♥️

Divider by @firefly-graphics

| One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve |

Title: Three

I stood awkwardly behind Stephanie as Johanna went on and on about how Henry was like all the other CFO’s that had come and gone. Her red hair seemed to be glowing like amber every time she walked in the path of the sunlight streaming through the large windows. Johanna had been pacing for past twenty-five minutes and if I was to be asked, I was feeling kind of dizzy looking at her.

“Mam, I understand you are having doubts about Mr. Cavill’s decision,” Stephanie tried to reason. The woman was only a couple of years older than me, but her threshold of patience was higher than a monk’s. I applauded her for the quality I was light years away from possessing. “But at least give him a chance to go through your proposal.”

I watched as Johanna shot Stephanie a glare of death. She did not like to be corrected and as much as Stephanie was trying to be calm, I was sure Johanna was irked by her condescending words.

“What do you have to say?”

I was left stunned like a deer caught in headlights. Johanna never regarded my existence let alone ask me my opinion. In the three years that I had worked at the firm, the red-haired woman had only acknowledged me once when she had accidently found out it was my birthday.

“Um…” I went over my choice of words without making her know what I really thought. “I think-”

“If it takes that long for you to answer, I wonder how you even get Stephanie’s work done at all.” She scowled at me.

My hand balled into a fist. This woman was vicious, cold hearted and obnoxiously egotistical. Stephanie looked at me sympathetically as the witch turned to take a seat behind her table.

“I want an alternate plan mapped out just in case he decides to reject the current one.”

“But mam, that would take a long time and we don’t even know if he’ll-”

Stephanie was rudely cut short mid-sentence. “If it’s a lot of work for you, maybe you can use your assistant for once.”

If I could punch the woman for once, I would gladly do it. I wasn’t even sure why was she taking up her grudges out on me.

“I expect to see the new revised proposal by tomorrow noon.”

I really, really wanted to punch her.

When Stephanie and I were away from our boss’s earshot, I grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side.

“Is she crazy? How are we supposed to give her a revised proposal in less than twenty-four hours?” I tried to keep my voice hushed but the rage was coursing through my blood making me blabber out.

Stephanie audibly sighed. “I know. She’s lost her mind. I guess I have to cancel my doctor’s appointment.” The last part was almost inaudible because she barely mumbled it.

“What doctor’s appointment? Are you unwell?”

I have been an assistant to Stephanie for as long as I have been in the firm and never had I ever seen her blush like she did right now. Her eyes were blown wide and her mouth open in surprise like I was only a few minutes ago in Johanna’s office when she had decided to put all the attention on me.

I waited for her to speak but as the moments passed between us, it finally dawned on me.

“Are you pregnant?”

She shushed me with her hands. I smiled wide with happiness. She had confided in me how they had been trying but somehow had been unsuccessful. She had been married to Dave for over five years now and they were eager to start a family. I could feel my entire body envelope with warmth, it was like finding out my own sister was pregnant.

“I haven’t told anybody, not even Dave. I really wanted to make sure before I tell him, so I was going to get checked first.”

“But the strip said positive?” I could not contain my happiness.

“Yes.”

I yelped and pulled her into a hug. I was unbelievably happy for her. I knew the feeling; I had felt it before. Expecting a child was always an exhilarating feeling, or that’s how it’s supposed to feel like. I felt a sudden clenching in my heart at a rush of unpleasant memories. But I smiled widely and shook the thoughts away.

Now that I knew Stephanie’s errand, and oddly proud about being the sole bearer of the news, I was not going to let her stay behind. She had explained to me what needed to be done and she had left almost as soon as the clock had struck five.

***

It was now late in the evening and I was busy typing away on my computer. I still had a majority of graphs to be made but I was almost done typing. I yawned and stretched as the fortieth page of a never ending proposal was finally done. I needed more coffee and a walk to stretch my stiff muscles.

The office floor looked hauntingly empty with the cubicles devoid of people hunched over on their desktops. The light above my desk was switched on along with my table lamp, but otherwise it was dark. The only light streaming in was from the waning moon and the city lights seeping through the clear windowpanes.

I picked up my coffee mug and made my way to the breakroom. The office coffee tasted like boiled water with instant coffee mix, what I needed was a venti sized café americano from Starbucks. I walked dazed to the coffee machine thinking about grabbing it first thing in the morning.

The loud sound of the coffee machine whirring filled the empty space entirely. I braced my hand on the counter planning my dinner takeout from the recently opened Chinese restaurant down the street. I was busy making up my mind about getting egg spring rolls or noddle soup when a hand rested on my shoulder.

I shrieked so loud my own ears rang with the sound.

I turned around to see Henry scrunching his face with his hands covering his ears.

“What the hell? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” I placed a hand over my chest. My heart was racing so fast I was worried it would explode. Whereas my feet had gotten cold from the freight response.

As he gathered himself, he chuckled lightly, a throaty sound that emanated deep from his chest and made his shoulders shake. “I wasn’t planning to scare you.”

His accent, the same British accent that had made me weak in my knees when he had whispered dirty things in my ears in the cab to his apartment. I shook the erotic thoughts away from my head. He was my boss now, there were work ethics to be followed.

“What are you even doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be home like everyone else?”

“I could ask you the same thing, love.” He cocked his head to the side.

I thought he looked adorable, but I also knew he could be wild if he wanted to. He even looked particularly hot in his navy-blue shirt with its sleeves rolled up. My mouth seemed to be getting dry, so I ran my tongue across my lips. His eyes instantly shot down to my lips and I could see his Adam’s apple bounce as he swallowed.

Was he thinking about that night too?

“I-It’s actually your fault.” I stumbled over my words because my mind seemed to be ardent about flashing images of Henry’s taut naked body. “Why aren’t you looking over Johanna’s proposal? She’s losing her mind.”

I turned back to my coffee because looking up at those crystal blue orbs was doing weird things to my body.

“I have gone through it. I was going to tell her about it tomorrow at the meeting.” His voice was calm and flat.

“Please tell me you disapprove it because I have spent a lot of time on the new one.”

“Why did you sneak out of my flat that night?”

I looked up at his question. With my back still facing him, I could see his face faintly reflect on the windowpane in front of us. He had his eyes on me and his lips pursed in a tight line. I could hear his breaths in the silence of the break room. The sound of traffic was travelling up barely but otherwise the only thing enveloping us was the smell of hot coffee and the low sound of our breathing almost synchronized.

“I-uh-I,” I was feeling stupid mumbling words and not forming a sentence.

The hair behind my neck stood up as he came closer to me and whispered, “I know I was good because I did not miss you screaming to fuck you harder.”

My breath hitched and the warmth traveled from my cheeks down to my chest. My ears heated up as his warm breath grazed the shell of my ear. I could feel the heat from his body even though we weren’t touching.

I knew this was wrong. But I would be lying if I hadn’t thought about us in such situations over the month.

“It seems you have lost your voice.” He commented with the same chuckle. He stepped back and I could finally draw in the breath I had been holding. I did not turn, only looking at him in his reflection. An amused look with a hint of mischief flashed over his face. “Why don’t you come to my office, maybe we can talk about it.”

So many thoughts ran through my mind, I almost felt dizzy. He had immediately left with a smirk on his face. The nonchalance in his stride was throwing me off. I wasn’t sure what had happened just a few moments ago. He definitely seemed to remember our time together and now he wanted to talk about it.

I stood at the counter near the coffee machine for a long time. The cup had gotten cold in my hand and the sweet smell of brewed coffee had long dissipated. It was weird to think he was waiting in his office for me to walk through his door. What was he even planning to talk about? I wasn’t going to explain why I left because I did not need to. But then he was also my boss and I did not want him to think I was disrespecting him. He could make or break my ends of living.

I sighed.

Although I did want to talk to him. In an odd way I liked the way his voice vibrated in his chest, I could almost hear the grunts and groans he had breathed out as he had thrusted inside me from behind.

This was the worst dilemma of my life.

***

The walk to Henry’s office was the slowest shuffle I had done across a floor. I had glanced at my desk with my computer long gone to sleep mode. Stephanie would be freaking out tomorrow if I did not have the proposal ready. Maybe I could ask him to give me a heads up about his decision about the current one that Johanna had dropped so that I could decide about staying or leaving.

I stopped a step away from his door and went over my options again. I could leave now and possibly jeopardize my job. Or I could go inside and talk to him like an adult. I bit my lip and took a deep breath before gently knocking on the hard wood. A muffled ‘come in’ came through the door. My heart raced as I turned the door handle and entered the office with Mr. Henry Cavill written on a plaque on the door.

I had been in the same office only once with Darren, but I could see it looked nothing like it did then. The floor was laden with grey carpet and the walls a stark white. The furniture was dark mahogany with a row of bookshelves braced against one wall. Henry’s desk was placed in the center of the room with the windows behind him. Two chairs sat on the opposite side of Henry and the man himself laid back on his chair with a big smile stretched across his face.

“Ms. Adam, please, sit.”

Henry looked every bit professional behind his desk. His coat jacket was hanging from the back of his chair but other than that he looked unfazed by the day. I looked around his office, feeling like I was entering the room for the first time. It even smelled different than it did when Darren occupied it. The portly man had usually smelled like a mixture of expensive deo with a faint hint of garlic lingering behind him. I shivered in disgust even thinking about it.

I sat myself across from him, feeling nervous but also stubborn at the same time. I had seen this man naked and felt his hands roam all over my body, in other circumstances he would have been just another one-night stand, but the twisted turn of fate had brought us together in a position where I was at the mercy of him. I felt vulnerable and oddly aroused. I immediately mentally slapped myself back to senses.

“If I may ask, are you going to approve the marketing proposal?” I tried with all my might to not sound like a naïve, brainless schoolgirl.

My eyes widened when Henry stood up, completely disregarding my question. He slowly walked from behind his table and sat at the edge of the mahogany wood. His eyes sparkled in the overhead light, turning a deep hue of blue; his jaw was covered in a faint hint of stubble.

The close proximity between us made my cheeks heat up again. I could smell his cologne, the same musky one with a hint of citrus. His leg touched mine slightly but neither he nor I did anything to move our limbs. His lips were turned at the corner, but his gaze was melting me from inside, soaking my panties without him even touching me.

“You wouldn’t believe how many times I had pictured us alone in this office.” His voice came out raspy and low. “It’s the only thing I can think about since I saw you here.”

My heart raced inside my chest. My mind had gone blank and all semblance of words evaporated into mist. I was rendered speechless and all I could do was stare back at him. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about us against the windows in throes of passion. That night had been amazing and while I had sneaked out of his apartment, I had nothing but him on my mind on the subway ride back to Brooklyn.

Henry bent down to come face to face, stopping only inches away from me. I could hear his breath; I could feel his heat. A shiver ran down my spine. My eyes momentarily dropped to his lips, they looked enticing and inviting. All I wanted to do was take his bottom lip in between mine and suck them swollen.

“We shouldn’t.” I blurted out. I quickly looked up at him. A wave of darkened lust flashed in his cerulean eyes. He did not move, he did not say anything. It was like the longest and slowest moments of my life. Work ethics and everything related to HR had long been flung out the window.

Henry’s smile turned into a smirk. He leaned in and I was certain he was going to kiss me. But instead he grabbed my arm rest and turned me to face him completely. With a lecherous gaze, he dropped down to his knees in front of me. I was astounded by what was happening. I could stop him, but I did not want to.

“You had done amazing things to me that night,” his tongue glided slowly over his lower lip. “Let me return the favor.”

It seemed like he waited for me to protest because he did not move. I was not going to stop him, but my voice was non-existent at that point. I barely nodded my head and Henry was capturing my mouth with his.

His hand rested on either side of my face, cupping my cheeks in his large hands. I was rested against my chair with him positioned in between my legs. His lips were soft, just like I remembered and reminisced, they moved in hurried movements like he had been waiting for this chance. I pulled him closer with his tie in my hand.

His lips travelled down my neck kissing and sucking, leaving a mark, and up to my collarbone while one of his hands cupped one breast. My breaths were coming in short with the feeling of his hand massaging my mound through my shirt. With the other hand he began unbuttoning my shirt like a pro. I did not waste time and did the same with his, only to be stopped by him with a light swat of his hand.

I pouted but a moan escaped my lips as he pinched an erect nipple through my clothes. I could feel him smiling against my skin as his mouth travelled further down to my chest. He placed kisses on the skin peeking out from the cups of my bra and then swiftly pulled them down releasing my aching nipples to the cold air of his office.

I arched my back as he took one in his mouth, sucking it and nipping at it lightly. I brought my legs around his body, entrapping him between my thighs. I tried to reached down to stroke him through his pants, but I could only reach down to his stomach. I grazed my nails over his shirt and it was my time to smile now as he growled lowly in response. He squeezed one of my breasts making me whimper out.

Henry momentarily released my erect nub and kissed me again. I wound my arms around his neck as his hands travelled to the underside of my thighs. In an effortless move, he stood up with my legs sliding down to wrap around his waist. He placed my buttock on the cold wooden surface of his desk, the tight grip of his hand leaving a warm imprint on my skin. I shivered as my thigh touched the cold wood.

Henry gently pushed me down on the table with his erection now prominent and grazing my thigh, and I braced my body on my elbows. His eyes were lustful, his skin flushed with the arousal. His lips looked red and I could not help but kiss them one more time. He lifted my skirt up over my thighs and pulled the wet fabric of my lacy panties down in one swipe. I could feel myself dripping as he looked me in the eyes and dipped down to my center. I moaned as I felt his tongue ran along my slit. I threw my head back as Henry rubbed his thumb over my clit.

The sensations that were washing over me was blissful. I had been eaten out before, but this felt different. Maybe it was the setting, office place romance was always a fantasy for majority of women; or maybe it was Henry and the fact that he was my boss. I did not get much time to think as he gently inserted one digit inside my wet cunt. I bit my lip as his finger prodded me with his tongue teasing my clit. Another finger joined the first one and my elbows gave way. I was now flat on his table with my leg on his shoulders as he devoured me. I could feel the familiar tightening at the bottom of my belly. I could feel it growing and I knew I couldn’t hold it any longer. I reached down to him and my fingers laced through his soft curls. I grasped some in my hand which only made him move his fingers faster. He curled his digits and they hit the sweet spot within me. I whimpered out his name, forgetting all about the formalities of our workplace.

His hands held me in place, opening my thighs wide for him. I fondled my breast, moaning with every lick and suck he placed on me. As he sucked at my clit and moved his fingers in a sweet synchronization, I tumbled over my edge and felt my toes curl as the orgasm washed over me in waves. He lapped at every drop of me as I rode my high by gently rocking my hips against his mouth.

I laid on his table trying desperately to catch my breath. Henry was now looming over me with a satisfied smile on his face. My legs felt like jelly as they hung from the edge of the table. Watching with tired eyes, I puckered my lips as Henry leaned to kiss me and I could taste myself on him. I noticed how his kiss was different than the first ones, they were now gentle and languid. I almost pulled him back to me, but he decided to stand up. I was left confused. That was foreplay and he wasn’t expecting sex? Nevertheless, I did not offer him.

“I guess we are even now?” I sat up and started buttoning my shirt.

Henry chuckled again. He had picked up my wet panty from the floor and handed it to me. “It isn’t a game.”

“Then why did we stop?”

The fire in his eyes was melting me again. I looked at him with my teeth biting my lower lip. I wanted to feel him inside me. I was hoping we would go that way. I wanted him to grind against me and grunt as he reached his climax along with me.

“Not tonight.” He smiled and walked behind his desk. The possibility of things happening between us made my heart jump a little. He grabbed his coat as I hopped down his desk to pull on my underwear. “You should go home too.”

“I still have work to do.” The events that had happened some moments ago had almost made me forget that I had a heap of graphs to make.

“As much as I like your dedication to work, it’s really late now.”

I watched as the moonlight was shining from behind him through the window. He looked beautiful in the light. I felt my knees go weak thinking about his mouth working on my ache not minutes ago.

“But I-” I started only to be cut off.

“Go home, Anya.” It was the first time he had used my first name. Why did it make my body tingle? “I approve the proposal. I’ll let Johanna know tomorrow.”

As a smile appeared on my face, he smiled back at me. He walked to where I stood and without another word, he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on my lips. My eyes widened at the unexpected move, but he only winked at me and walked out his office in strong confident strides.

I could only stare at his bum and wonder, what the hell just happened?

[jawritter]

Don’t Make A Sound

Requested by anon HERE

Summary: You are forced to share a bed with Jensen due to overbooking at the Dallas Con he had to work at. What do you do when you catch your boss having a very hot wet dream?

Warnings: Smut, Bed Humping, Masterbation, Public Smut?, Language, shameless objectification of Jensen Ackles, Jensen having a wet dream (yes that’s a warning) I think that’s about it. This is pretty much porn, and I’m not sorry. 

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1931

A/N: This is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Just thought I’d throw this one out there for you guys since my posting got thrown off by a hurricane, and I’m feeling generous tonight. Besides, who can say no to a bed humping Jensen Ackles? I didn’t think so. Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!

***MASTERLIST***

You don’t know how you got here… Wait a minute… That’s not entirely true. You do know how you got here. There were no other rooms available, it was the last Dallas Con of the year, and it had been put off and hyped up so long that it was overbooked. 

You’d been working as Jensen Ackles PA for the last six months. With SPN ending, and his new role on The Boys looming, he’d been overwhelmed in his workload, and he needed a little extra help getting organized, which is where you come in. 

Normally you would have just rented a room close to his. This time though, there were no other rooms available, and the only room available by the time Jensen and yourself got to Dallas was a suite with one king bed. Jensen let you stay with him, saying there was no way in hell you were going to drive across town to rent another room when there was a perfectly good room with a big enough bed to share right here. 

Now here you are.

So yes, you know very well how you got here. Laying in bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling unable to sleep, with your extremely hot boss laying in nothing but a pair of loose-fitting boxer shorts, and a black fitted T-Shirt, less than a whole foot away from you.

Couldn’t get any more awkward? Wait!! There’s more!!!

Why not just sleep on the pull out couch in the room? Well, that’s because it was currently occupied by one Misha Collins, who had flown down with Jensen and yourself from Vancouver and found himself in the same boat as you. Roomless. 

Alcohol flowed as it does at cons. Too many shots were taken at the bar downstairs attached to the hotel, and Misha was allowed to pass out on the pullout to avoid a drunk Uber ride to God knows where he’d end up. 

You felt Jensen’s weight shift next to you, and a low grunt leaves his lips, but he didn’t wake up. The room was stuffy, and he’d kicked the covers off an hour ago, the light coming from the still it bathroom left very little to the imagination as he shifted over to his stomach with his arms tucked under his pillow. The delicious curve of his ass on display in the loose-fitting boxer shorts, and the T-Shirt that had shoved it’s way up higher on his stomach when he rolled over, leaving that dip in his back exposed that people fangirled all over the globe. 

You mentally slap yourself for drooling over your boss while he unknowingly slept next to you, and forced your eyes to focus back on the ceiling. You were finally starting to feel somewhat of tiredness pull at your subconscious, and you finally let your eyes drift close. Then you heard it. A low moan comes from the extravagantly hot man lying next to. Barely audible, but definitely a moan. 

Your eyes shoot to Jensen as if someone had thrown cold water on you, but he was still laying in the same position sound asleep. 

Maybe you were dreaming and didn’t realize you had fallen asleep. 

Before you could pull your eyes away from his gorgeous body, his hips rolled ever so slightly, and a light moan fell from his lips again, pulling his boxers tighter against his well-formed ass from all the years of fight scene on Supernatural. 

You didn’t move, fuck you barely dared to breathe as you watched him. He was seriously laying next to you having a wet dream? No way.

Your eyes shot over to Misha, who was still sound asleep, or just flat passed out, Jared had pretty much drank him under the table in a bet. He was out thankfully. 

Jensen’s hips shifted again, and your eyes shot back to the scene playing out next to you as Jensen’s hips started to shifted up and down a little as he rutted himself against the mattress in his sleep, his hips finding a deep rhythm as little grunts and moans continued to fall almost inaudible from his perfect mouth. 

You knew you shouldn’t watch, this was wrong, you should look away, but every woman with a pulse, and some men for that matter, wouldn't be able to look away from this. No way. Not a chance.

Jensen’s hips rolled harder, pushing himself deeper against the mattress in search of more friction, and your hand wandered into the waistband of your shorts without you even really realizing it, finding your little bundle of nerve you began to rub harsh little circles matching his pace.

“Hmph fuck,” Jensen murmured in his sleep as he continued to hump himself into the bed, and with a deeper roll of his hips, the red swollen tip of his erection slipped threw he little slit in his boxers, rolling against the mattress as Jensen continued to fuck himself into it. A bead of precum formed at the tip as he continued to swell under his own administrations, dripping onto the white sheet underneath him. 

You bite down on your lower lip to suppress the moan that desperately wanted to fall from your lips as you watch him, slipping your fingers inside your shorts deeper, teasing your clenching entrancing that desperately wanted to be stretched by the man next to you.

He was fucking beautiful. His throbbing erection slipping through the opening in the front of his boxers, rolling against the bed with each push of his hips. His brow furrowed with a thin layer of sweat already forming there. His lips pouted in concentration. 

With each roll of his hips against the mattress, his breath started to become a pant, and a hushed moan from a moment ago became more and more prominent. 

“Y/N!” he moaned loudly, and his eyes snapped open mid-thrust against the now rooted covers that had gathered underneath him. His eyes wide with horror as embarrassment burned hot in his face. His perching green eyes locked with yours before a prominent pout formed on his beautiful face, and you were almost sure for a moment he looked as if he was going to cry from sheer embarrassment. 

Quickly jerking himself back into his boxer he broke eye contact with you and made to get up out of the bed.

“Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry, I’ve never done anything like that before… I don’t… I’m sorry.” 

Grabbing his pillow he made to stand up but his throbbing length strained harder against the thin fabric of his boxers, so running with dignity was out of the window, hell dignity period was out of the window. Admitting defeat he grabbed the thin sheet and threw it over his hips, covering himself with the pillow that he had in his hand for good measure, then burying his face in his hands as if he wanted to die right there. 

You had two choices, you could roll over and pretend you weren’t just enjoying the show, because he’d obviously hadn’t noticed that you were, or you could shove him down on the bed, and give him the ride of his life. At this point your job was probably shot anyway, so you chose the former. He was so embarrassed that surely he’d fire you in the morning. 

“It’s okay Jensen," you whisper, crawling over to his side of the bed, and moving the pillow away from his lap, revealing the prominent tent in his boxers as you ripped the sheet away. 

He watched with his jaw hanging open as you slipped your shorts, and underwear down in one go before shoving him back down on the bed, shushing him as he laid back. 

“Don’t make a sound,” you tell him as quietly as you can, giving Misha a quick glance to make sure he was still sleeping before taking his pulsing length in your hand, pumping him a few times before sliding down onto him. 

Your mouth falls open in an inaudible moan as his back arched up to meet you as you slowly sink down onto his sizable length, and he stretches you open until you were fully seated on his lap with him inside of you, your walls already clenching around him as he bit down hard into his lips. 

He was already panting again, his eyes slammed shut in an attempt to make no sound, his mouth fallen open just slightly; letting you see his perfect row of white teeth and tongue peeking out just over the edge.

When he was finally able to open his eyes again they were at least three shades darker than what they were when he’d woken up, and his fingers found your hips in a bruising grip. Slowly at first, Jensen helped you begin to move your hips. Rolling in a slow teasing motion as you both become used to the feel of each other. His thick length hitting that place deep down inside of you very few men had ever reached, his eyes watched you bodies where they were connected.

You could already feel that familiar coil winding tight in your stomach as you moved above him, pushing you to rise and fall on him faster and faster as his hips rose and fell to meet yours as you rode him. 

“Fuck Y/N, I can’t, I’m about to fucking blow. Cum with me sweetheart,” he panted in a hushed whisper. Sitting up quickly he pulled your bodies tighter together as you continued to grind down on his cock, his pelvis hitting your clit at just the right angle, and before long you were a shaking mess on top of him as your walls clamped down around him, and he spilled his seed deep inside of you. Both of you held onto each other as he pushed you both through your high until you both fell back onto the bed a painting mess. 

You buried your head in Jensen’s shoulder as his arms wrapped around you protectively, his lips finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss. 

“That was,” Jensen said in a hushed whisper as his eyes searched yours and he struggled to find the words to say.

“About fucking time,” Misha exclaimed loudly from the pullout bed across the room. Making Jensen and yourself look at each other in a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

“Now if the two of you are fucking done, I’ve got a 5 AM flight I have to be ready for in the morning.” 

Jensen chucked as you buried yourself deeper into his hold, trying not to laugh hysterically because of your nerves. 

“Sorry Mish, go back to sleep,” he chucked as Misha got up and made his way to the bathroom, mumbling something about Jared owing him 100 bucks.

“So, where does this leave us?” you asked Jensen the question you feared the most, and he took a deep breath, staring towards the ceiling in thought.

“Well, I can either give you a raise and call you my VERY personal assistant or I can take you out to dinner tomorrow night; and call you my girlfriend instead?”

You settle yourself down into the covers as he pulled the over the two of you with a stupid smile plastered over your face. 

“You know what, dinner sounds great.”

Misha stumbles his way back to the bed, snorting in amusement. “Honestly Y/N, I would have taken the raise.”

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

Forever Tag List: @deanmonandnegansbitch @hayleeharling @flamencodiva @coldmuffinbanditshoe @bxbyizzy @rain-dance-goblin @itmejado @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural​ @lyarr24​ @amandamdiehl​ @love-jackles-37-blog​ @miraclesoflove​ @waywardsistershy​ @emoryhemsworth​ @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​ @softsebastian​ @tatted-trina6​

[svnflowervol666]

Ma Petite Chérie: Sweet Creature (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Harry goes out of town and leaves Tallulah with Y/N for the week. 

Author’s Note: Hiiiii. I decided to turn Ma Petite Chérie into it’s own little “thing,” so here’s another look at Harry, Tallulah and Y/N’s life! I’ve found it much easier to write in little blips rather than following a direct plot, so expect random little moments featuring the three of them. Also, this is not proofread and I am going through a period of having full blown insomnia, so I’m praying there aren’t too many mistakes. I hope you all enjoy and send any ideas, asks, or questions you have for them my way and I’ll be happy to respond! Take care and TPWK.

“I left her car seat in the garage. If she starts gettin’ fussy during the day, just put her in her room and turn on the noise machine and let her color - that usually does it. I refilled her medicine the other day, didn’t I-”

“Har-,” she shushed him, “We’ll be fine. I know the drill. Allergy meds and gummy vitamins in the morning, french vocabulary every other day, no tv before bed, and no sugar after six.”

He took a deep breath in and placed his palms on top of Y/N’s that are gripping his shoulders to ground him. He was a mess, but how could he not when one of the only people he trusted with his daughter, his mother, was away on holiday and couldn’t stay with her when he had to go on a week-long business trip? It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Y/N, he absolutely did. He just hated feeling like she thought he was using her as a free babysitter rather than the loving girlfriend she actually was. That couldn’t be further from the truth, but his anxieties always had a way of getting the best of him.

“Sorry. Always get nervous leavin’ her. Feel like something bad’s gonna happen every time and I won’t be there t’ help her.”

“It’s just a few days, bubs. She seems to like me, or at least pretends to. I’ll keep her entertained. Take her to the park and go get our nails done or something. It’ll be like one, big sleepover.”

“If yeh take her t’ the park, make sure yeh put sunscreen o-”

“Harry,” she’s stern and it shut Harry up immediately.

“Right,” he paused and took another intense, labored breath in an attempt to stop himself from canceling his plans and just staying home with Y/N and Tallulah for the week.

“She does like yeh. Asks about yeh all the time when you’re gone. Loves yeh a lot, actually. We both do.”

That word used to scare him, love. He realized long ago that he had only ever truly been in love with his daughter, so making himself vulnerable to sharing those same emotions with another person was genuinely terrifying. But each and every time, Y/N does something to remind him that it is well-worth the internal struggle he’s endured. 

The proud smile that adorned Y/N’s face at his words is another one of those moments. It’s full of light and reassurance that his baby will be perfectly safe and healthy while he tended to business an entire continent away.

“I love you both as well. Might have a slight preference towards Lulah, but it’s nothing to worry yourself over.”

“Swear yeh only datin’ me because of her,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“You’re absolutely right,” she scoffed, “I only come over five nights out of the week to watch The Little Mermaid with her and I just tolerate you.”

Harry laughed, a genuine cackle that reared his cavernous dimples and turned the apples of his cheeks a pale shade of pink.

“I’d do the same,” he said with a shrug.

“Harry, you’re stalling. You’re gonna miss your flight if you don’t get on the road soon. I don’t think you want me to kick you out of the door.”

He feigned ponderance and tapped his index finger on his chin.

“I do love it when yeh mean t’ me.”

“Harry, go.”

“Alright, alright. I’m leaving. Just...check in with me every once in a while. Let me know how she’s doin’, yeah? I’ll call every night t’ talk t’ her.”

“Was already expecting you to.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeated.

He cleared his throat, heart weighing heavy in his chest. He knew he was supposed to leave for the airport ten minutes ago, but he couldn’t find himself to wheel his luggage out to the trunk of his car.

“Goodbye, Harry,” Y/N whispers in hushed tones.

She reached up on her tiptoes to plant a chaste kiss on his bright pink lips, which he then took upon himself to deepen by loosely wrapping his fingers around her throat and applying just enough pressure to make her contemplate giving into his obvious hesitance about leaving.

“Tell Lulah I love her when she wakes up, okay? Feel like shit leavin’ her in the middle of the night.”

“I’ll tell her first thing.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too, Harry,” she smiles, “See you in a week.”

//

Their first few days went by smoothly, a little too smoothly, Y/N thinks. She’d let her pick one activity to do each day and it seemed like to Harry and Y/N, she was having the time of her life. 

Monday was the park, an obvious choice for a toddler. Tallulah wore herself out so much that she’d gone to bed that night with no trouble whatsoever.

Tuesday was a pampering day. Y/N had tried to get them into her preferred nail salon for pedicures, but there were no empty slots so she’d made up Harry’s master bathroom to look like a spa. She painted Tallulah’s nails blue (because Tallulah said blue was her dad’s favorite color), ran her a bubble bath with more bubbles than Harry ever allowed, and even let her put on some of her expensive face mask cream (Harry nearly shit himself out of pure adoration when he received a selfie of the two of them with pink goop smeared all over their faces and cucumbers over their eyes).

Tallulah’s request for Wednesday was a trip to the carnival that was in town, in which Y/N spent nearly fifteen dollars trying to win a stuffed bear for her but was unsuccessful. They went home with a real, live goldfish instead that Tallulah named Carrot because she claimed he looked like her favorite vegetable - she told Tallulah not to mention it to Harry and that she’d break the news to him later. She even let Tallulah have sugar after six o’clock (what Harry knew wouldn’t hurt him and besides, she told Y/N that she’d never had cotton candy before and Y/N totally wanted bragging rights for introducing her to basically a two-year-old’s fever dream of eating pink clouds).

She hadn’t asked about Harry once.

It wasn’t until Wednesday night after the carnival and her bath and daily FaceTime call with him that she began to get antsy with Y/N, claiming that she wanted her dad to tuck her in and read her a bedtime story. No matter how many times Y/N told her that Harry couldn’t do that but that he would be home in a few days, Tallulah didn’t understand why her dad wasn’t there to give her cuddles and rub her back until she fell asleep like he often did. Eventually, her exhaustion caught up to her and she gave in to the need for sleep, but Y/N had a feeling that that wouldn’t be the end of her tantrum.

It was nearly eleven o’clock, and Y/N was in the living room enjoying a glass of red wine from Harry’s vast collection of alcohol that he kept in his office (for some reason he had an irrational fear that Tallulah would somehow get into it, so he kept it locked away in a room where she wasn’t allowed in). The fermented concoction had almost lulled her to into a light slumber right there on the couch in the middle of a documentary about how agriculture influenced climate change when she heard the piercing cries of a toddler coming from down the hall.

Y/N rushed towards Tallulah’s room, all effects of the wine immediately dissipating as her mind went to the worst possible scenario. She’d fallen off her bed and hurt herself, she was having an allergic reaction, there was a strange man in her room trying to kidnap her. But there was seemingly nothing wrong with Tallulah when Y/N flung her bedroom door open so quickly she almost broke the knob.

“What’s wrong, Lulah?” she asked as she approached her on the bed that sat low to the ground.

Tallulah was red in the face, covered in a thin layer of sweat, and tears continuously flowed from her bright, green eyes that looked exactly like Harry’s and even shifted a teal blue in the sunlight.

Y/N’s heart sunk when she heard it. Over and over again. Nothing else. Only crying out one word.

“Daddy.”

She didn’t want to overwhelm her, so Y/N laid down next to Tallulah and pulled her close. As she brushed her curls away from where they were matted to her sweaty forehead, Y/N cooed her reptitiously in an attempt to calm her down. After about three minutes of incesant crying and copious amounts of fat, shiny tears, Y/N needed a better idea.

“I know you miss him, bubs. I miss him too. But he’ll be home soon, okay? I know something that might make you feel better. Do you want to come in daddy’s room with me?”

It was quiet and muffled over her blubbery cries, but Y/N heard a tiny, “yes,” escape through her lips and then she was scooping Tallulah up into her arms and carrying her off to the master bedroom.

She placed her in the middle of Harry’s bed and quickly began digging through Harry’s dresser for what she was looking for. When she found it, she ran back to Tallulah’s curled up body on the mattress.

“Okay, whenever I miss your dad, I put on one of his shirts because it smells like him. It always makes me feel like he’s close to me. Do you want try that?” 

The toddler had calmed down dramatically since she’d left her own bed, most likely due to exhaustion from crying so much in such a short period of time. She gave Y/N a gentle nod and let her take off her matching set of pajamas and replace them with the shirt of Harry’s that dropped almost all of the way to her feet. It was a white t-shirt with the words “Dream Boat” screened onto the fabric, which was perhaps a bit controversial for his two-year-old daughter to be wearing, but it was the smallest shirt of his that she could find. Otherwise, it’d be falling off of her shoulders and she wouldn’t be able to move.

“Can you smell it?” Y/N bunches the fabric in her hands and raises it to Tallulah’s nose.

“Smells like daddy, doesn’t it?”

Tallulah inhaled the best she could through her stuffy nose.

“‘mells good,” she whimpered, reaching her short arms to wrap around Y/N’s neck.

“Do you want to lie in daddy’s bed with me for a little bit? You can sleep in here, if you want,” Y/N spoke softly into Tallulah’s hair while she held her.

Y/N felt a nod against her chest and that was all it took for her to climb towards the pillow with Tallulah in her arms. She laid Tallulah on Harry’s side of the bed, hoping that the extra scent he left in the sheets would further will her back to sleep.

And it worked.

After reaffirming what felt like a million times that Harry would cuddle her for an entire day straight when he got home because he missed her just as much as she missed him, her eyes slowly shut and peace took over. Y/N thought the coast was clear and a crisis had been averted, and she also remembered that she hadn’t taken her makeup off yet. So she wriggled Tallulah off of her chest and slipped stealthily out of the bed like a burglar attempting to not get caught and tiptoed away into the bathroom to wash her face.

Right when she was patting her face dry with one of the plush towels on the rack in Harry’s bathroom, she realized that the coast was indeed, not clear, and Tallulah began wailing once again.

“It’s okay, Lulah. I’m right here,” Y/N consoled the small girl that looked even smaller in Harry’s king-sized bed.

But she wasn’t interested in Y/N at all. Her sobbing was louder than the last and it was Harry’s name that fell from her weepy lips like it was the only thing keeping her alive. This time, Y/N knew there was nothing that could soothe her besides Harry himself.

“Here, baby,” Y/N wriggled the toddler out of her arms and reached over to the nightstand to grab her cell phone, “Let’s see if daddy’s awake and maybe you can talk to him again, okay?”

“Okay,” Tallulah huffed, but it sounded more like “o-tay.”

Under any other circumstances, Y/N would be awing at the way she said certain words, but now, she just wanted Tallulah to go back to sleep. She was just as exhausted as Tallulah and was starting to become overwhelmed by the nature of everything that was happening.

Harry picked up her FaceTime on the second ring, eyes wide and concerning even though Y/N could tell that her call had woken him up.

“What’s goin’ on? ‘S she alright?”

Her cries that he heard through his speaker broke his heart, and he wanted nothing more than to jump on the next flight home to hold his sweet little girl until all of the tears had dried from her face.

“She’s been crying for the last hour, Har. She wants you. Maybe talk to her a little and see if she calms down?”

She heard Harry curse under his breath and rub the sleep out of his eyes. There was a sense of relief that washed over him when he realized that everything was alright and his daughter wasn’t in any immediate danger, but he didn’t quite feel better by any means. Y/N tilted the phone down towards Tallulah who had taken to rubbing the corner of Harry’s pillowcase between her thumb and forefinger.

“Lulah, baby. Talk t’ me. What’s the matter?”

“Daddy?” her face lifted from where it was buried in her stuffed elephant that she’d had since she was a baby and looked up to see her father’s face lit up on Y/N’s phone screen.

“Hi, lovie. Why’re yeh cryin’?”

“Want you come home,” she pouted, her bottom lip jutting out in a way that made her look far too adorable for how sad she really was.

“I know yeh do, petal. I’ll be home soon. I promise. Then, we can have a big cuddle. Does that sound good?”

“You come home tomorrow?” she asked, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

Harry internally cringed when he saw her wipe it on his sheets, but he was obviously not going to scold her for it at the moment.

“Not tomorrow, but soon. I’m not goin’ anywhere for a long time after this so it’ll be just me and you for a bit.”

Tallulah grew upset by this, and understandably so. Her dad always gave her cuddles when she was sad. Why was he telling her that he couldn’t?

He sensed her tears springing back to life, to which he quickly diverted her attention away from.

“Tell me more about what yeh did with Y/N today at the carnival, bug.”

After sucking up a few slobbery breaths, Tallulah was able to speak to Harry again.

“We got a fishy.”

Damnit.

Harry’s ears perked up.

“A fishy? At the carnival? How did yeh do that?”

“Y/N gotted it.”

“She did?”

Y/N knew Harry was not only talking to Tallulah but also to her. A tone that suggested Y/N had some explaining to do, but he wasn’t going to bring that up now.

“Yeah, she winned a game.”

“Does the fishy have a name?”

“Carrot.”

This made Harry snort, as he was not expected that one.

“And did Y/N get Carrot a nice bowl and some food?”

“Mhmm,” Tallulah nodded, “He’s in the kitchen.”

“Well, that sounds lovely. I can’t wait to meet Carrot. Gonna give him cuddles when I get home, too.”

“He said he loves you.”

“That’s very sweet of him. Tell Carrot I love him, too.”

There was a long pause in which Harry, Tallulah, and Y/N all yawned, clearly overtaken by the urge to fall into a deep sleep.

“It’s really late, Lulah. Yeh think yeh can go back t’ bed for me?”

Tallulah brazenly shook her head from side to side, no. 

Harry sighed heavily, his frustration and sadness becoming all too much for him to bear. He was nervous to do what he was about to offer, but he knew it was the last resort in anyone in this scenario getting any sleep whatsoever.

“What if I sing yeh your song? Will that make yeh feel better?”

He watched as her eyes light up with a glint of joy and he knew that that was possibly the cure to everyone’s problems. 

“Peas?”

“Of course, baby. Thank yeh for usin’ yeh manners.”

Y/N laid the phone down so she could reposition Tallulah in her lap as Harry’s melodic voice began to pour from the speakers.

It was her favorite song in the entire world. No matter what was wrong or how upset she was, the second he sang the first few notes and the sound registered in her ears, Tallulah was always able to bring herself back down to earth. 

The first time he sang it to her, she was only ten weeks old, just two weeks after she was brought into his life. He first thought it was a one-off chance that the song had lulled her to sleep, but he quickly found out he was wrong and that she took a genuine liking to it. He’s always assumed it brought on a sense of familiarity and comfort to her whenever she felt like her tiny, two-year-old life was crashing down on her. 

Y/N had never actually seen him sing to her. She’d heard it a time or two through the door of her bedroom when she stayed over, but she’d never asked Harry about it. She had always let their song be just that - their song.

Hopefully, and he genuinely means hopefully, the trick works just as well as it usually does despite him not being there physically. He’s got to be up at five and he refuses to hang up the phone until his baby isn’t sad anymore.

It took a bit longer than usual, but by the second round of the chorus, her eyelids were heavy and the grip she had on Y/N’s lotus pendant had weakened. Hell, the song almost put Y/N to sleep as well. Had she not been worried sick over waking Harry up in the middle of the night and his daughter spilling the beans about the fucking fish, she would have been out well before Tallulah. She loved his singing voice, but she only ever got to hear it when he bopping along to a song on the radio or when he was really, really drunk. 

As the last few notes of the song trailed to silence, both Y/N and Harry took a peek at Tallulah through the phone screen, eager to see if she was fully asleep or just in a state of tranquility. Sure enough, she was out cold.

“I think she’s asleep,” Y/N whispered.

“Thank god,” Harry muttered, “Bloody awful, that was. She’d been cryin’ like that the whole time?”

“Pretty much. Sorry for calling so late, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“‘S alright. Honestly, I was waiting for it. When she stays with mum, I usually get a call or two just like this. By the way, was she wearin’ my ‘Dream Boat’ shirt?”

Y/N starts to chuckle but remembers there is a fragile (both physically and emotionally) child on her chest and she can’t move too much in fear of waking her back up.

“Yeah, she is. I told her I wear your shirts and sleep on your side of the bed when I miss you because they smell like you and thought it would calm her down. It kinda did, but she woke up when I left to go to the bathroom.”

“Christ,” Harry wipes his face with his large, ringed hands.

“What?”

“That’s the cutest shit I’ve ever heard in my life. I love you. A lot.”

“I love you a lot, too,” Y/N grinned.

After a brief moment, Harry talks again.

“So, what’s this about a fish named Carrot?”

Y/N grits her teeth together and sucks in a deep breath.

“Have you seen her face? I know you have. What was I supposed to tell her? No? Got that fucker on the first try after spending seventeen dollars trying to win her a stuffed animal.”

A laugh from deep within Harry’s belly reached the surface and he stifled it with his fist.

“You’ve got a point, princess.”

“I can get rid of him, if you want. I figured she’d get bored and forget about him in a few days, so it wasn’t a big deal.”

“No,” Harry insists, “Keep him. Teach her how t’ take care of him. Give her a responsibility. Maybe she’ll stop harrassin’ me about gettin’ a damn cat.”

“Already done,” Y/N smiles proudly at the camera.

“She knows we feed him in the mornings and she told me she’d help clean his bowl once a week. Even taught her how to say ‘fish’ in french.”

“Have I already told yeh that I love yeh? ‘Cause I do.”

“You did. But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

Harry took a moment to just look at her. Her eyes were bloodshot and he knew she probably felt like she’d just been to hell and back, but there, with his baby girl on her chest, she had never looked more beautiful. He was physically incapable of stopping the words that left his mouth.

“Move in with me.”

“Hmm?” she lifted her head from where it was resting halfway on her pillow and halfway on Harry’s as if to see if he really just said what she thought he said.

“Only if yeh want to. I know it’s a bigger deal because of Lulah, so I get it if yeh still want yeh space. Just...really want yeh around all of the time. And I know she does, too.”

Y/N smiled from ear to ear and placed her free hand that wasn’t holding the phone on top of Tallulah’s curls. She’d been wondering when this conversation would happen, given that she sleeps over at Harry’s more than she does her own apartment and she’d slowly taken over half of the drawers in his bathroom and three shelves in his closet; she just hadn’t expected it to come at midnight, directly after his daughter had the biggest meltdown she’d ever witnessed.

“If I say yes, will you sing to me like that every night?”

Harry blushed beet red as he breathed heavily through his nose.

“If that’s what it takes. Then, yes.”

“Think Lulah’s strong enough to help me carry some boxes?”

[elizabeethan]

Spaces Between Us Chapter 11: Strong

The hardships of real life separated them six years ago, and Emma has been struggling to put that fact behind her ever since. But then, only after she’s convinced herself that she’s moved on and that her new life is enough, Killian Jones comes back.

A Captain Swan Modern AU

A/N: Oh no my hand slipped and I posted early again

This chapter was hard to write, and it might be hard to read. Some heavy stuff happens so please take care of yourself and read the warnings! As always, if you need more information, please please message me. 

***This chapter includes a scene containing descriptions of domestic violence. Please message me for more details if you need to***

Thank you, as usual, to my beta and friend @the-darkdragonfly, and to @donteattheappleshook and @xhookswenchx for listening to my ramblings and helping me figure out the plot to this <3

Read the Rest

Read on Ao3

Read my Other Stuff

~~~~

If there’s one thing Killian was not expecting when he woke up this morning, it was this. In fact, this has been the furthest thought from his mind for months. When Emma assured him that Henry is not his son, he believed her and forced himself to drop it. 

 He would gladly raise her child as his own, if she would allow him to do so. He would help them to escape her abusive husband, getting them out of the state entirely if he could, and he would act as a father figure to her boy. 

 But when she walks towards him in the hospital that afternoon, her eyes bloodshot and her face red and swollen as she cries some more, he hears the last thing he’d ever expected to hear. 

 “They want to do DNA testing,” she tells him softly, her voice croaking and rough in the aftermath of her violent sobs. “A… a paternity test.” 

 “Emma…” he tries, but nothing else will come out. 

 “I’m sorry. The pulmonologist says there's no way this is from him being premature. It’s really bad, and he says it’s got to be genetic.”

“I know, love, but… I just thought…” 

 She's silent for a moment, and it’s as if she doesn’t even want to try and speak. Finally, she inhales deeply and forces out her explanation. 

“The weeks before you left, we were fighting all the time. And then we would have sex to numb how much it hurt, and the whole time, I mean… I was bad about taking my pill. And once you left I was still bad about it, but… if I got the date of conception wrong…” 

 He nods, though he’s having trouble understanding her as the world feels blurry still. Despite his confusion, though, he runs his hands up and down along the length of her arms. “He’s still so small, though.” 

 “He was five pounds, eight ounces when he was born. Which is tiny, but Dr. Whale said that a stressful pregnancy can impact birthweight. And… I mean, I spent my pregnancy with Walsh. I lost you.”

 Taking her hands in his, he squeezes and begs her to look into his eyes before he pulls her bottom lip from between her teeth and wipes away the tiny trace of blood left behind. “Love, are you sure about this?” 

 He watches as she begins to break again, the tears immediate and her breathing quickening until he pulls her in for a tight hug. “If this is true-- if you’re his dad-- that means I put him through this for no reason. What kind of a mother does that make me?”  

 Although he’s overcome with confusion and a difficulty accepting what seems more and more likely to be the truth, he’s also overcome with the need to comfort her. So he shushes her gently, kissing her head, and whispers, “you're the best mother in the world to him, my love. You did everything you could to protect him. If this is true, we can leave, and I'll be the best father I can to him. Together, we’ll make up for what he’s been through, I promise.” 

 “I don't want to do this to you,” she cries, and although she grips him tightly, he can feel her pulling away. “I don’t want to put you through this.” 

 “There’s nothing I want more than to be a family with you and Henry. Even if he isn’t my son, I'm going to get you out of Storybrooke and I'm going to treat him like he is.”

 She holds onto him for a while, letting her breathing even out and probably deciding whether he’s telling the truth, and he considers the weight of their situation. He never thought he would be a father. Once things ended with Emma, he thought it was over for him and that he would never move on and be happy enough to start a family with anyone else. Then, when he found her again and with a child of her own, he thought he would at least be happy enough raising someone else’s son if it meant being with her. When she so firmly and believably insisted that he did not father her son, he believed her and tried his best to move on. 

 Now that the possibility is dangled in front of him once more, he isn't sure he can survive the heartbreak of being proven wrong once again. 

 But when he thinks about the lad who has Killian’s mother’s eyes and Emma’s round cheeks and an attitude that couldn’t possibly be inherited from such a horrible man, his heart clenches in his chest and he can’t bear to not know. He can’t go through life without knowing whether this child is his. He wants him to be his so very badly. And even if he isn’t… he may as well be.

 “What do we need to do, love?” he finally asks, giving her assurance that he’s in this with her no matter what they find out. 

 She sniffles, looking up at him with glassy red eyes and asks, “are you sure?” and he nods with firm resolve and a soft smile. She returns it and explains, “they can do a paternity test right now. I can pay for rapid results and find out in a few hours.” 

 Brushing the hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, he nods again and leans down to kiss her despite the fact that they're in public. They're hidden in a quiet hallway, but the possibility that anyone can walk in on them in each other’s arms is real. “I’ll pay.” 

 “Killian, no--”

 He cuts her off with another kiss, this one more heated, and then says, “I’ll pay. However the results come back, I want to be here for the lad. I’ve missed five years already, let me start making that up now.” 

 She sighs and kisses him now, holding him as close to her as she can as she cradles the back of his head in her hands. “Should we talk about what this means?” she asks softly, voice barely above a whisper in the quiet hall. 

 “All it means is that a part of me may have been with you all along. I can take comfort in that. It means I have a reason for being so fond of your son, other than him being your son. It means there’s hardly any reason for us to be apart ever again.” 

 “Aside from my potential murder,” she jests, although it feels heavier than any joke should. 

 “Hush,” he quiets. “I told you I'm not letting anything happen to you and I meant it. We’re going to get this sorted out now, alright?” She nods, her nose running along his cheek. “Now, are they going to stab me with a needle, or can they simply swab my cheek?” 

 With a snort, she asks, “what, you can handle a bunch of tattoos, but a bit of blood work is too much for you?”

 “Oy,” he argues, tickling her playfully until she giggles and buries her face in his neck. “I’ll do anything for that lad, I swear. Just… a cheek swab is a bit less uncomfortable.” 

 “I’m sure a cheek swab would’ve been less uncomfortable than 39 hours of labor, too.” 

 “Alright,” he concedes. “Come, now. Let’s find out the level of torture I’m about to endure.” 

 ~~~~

 It’s hours of sitting behind the desk, torturously staring at the clock and willing it to turn to 8 pm so she can leave. Tink doesn’t deserve this shift; it’s a complete waste of a day, and hardly anything exciting has happened. One would think that the emergency department at a hospital would be more busy, but Storybrooke is a small and sleepy town. The only thing that’s happened today is a little boy getting checked in for his asthma, and if nothing transpires with what was discovered after he was admitted, it’ll feel like a wasted shift. 

 As if his ears were burning, the elevator opens to reveal something very exciting indeed: the mayor. He hurries towards her, leaning over the desk with a sense of urgency that Tink suspects is purely for attention and votes. “I’m looking for Henry Oswald,” he insists. 

 She blinks at him and cocks her head, turning to her computer for show, although she already knows what’s about to happen. “Do you have ID?” she asks when she sees the kid’s chart, concealing her smirk. 

 The mayor grumbles something about her not knowing who he is and the slightly sadistic side of her cackles. The cackling gets louder when she takes his ID and shakes her head, giving him a falsely apologetic look. “I’m sorry, sir, I can only allow family into his room.” 

 His face is nearly unreadable, but she sees the way his eyes widen threateningly when he asks, “excuse me?” in a deceptively calm tone. 

 Not falling for his playacting, she repeats, “only family is allowed in the room at this time.” 

 “I’m his father,” he insists. 

 Tink shakes her head. “Not according to his chart, sir. The name on your ID does not match the name listed here.” 

 “Let me see that.” 

 “I can’t, sir, it’s a confidential medical record. Only his parents are allowed to see his information.” 

 He slams his hands against the desk and shouts, “I’m his father! What the hell is wrong with you?!” 

 Honestly, Tink should work on her tendencies to rile people up. But when she heard about the drama with the mayor’s son not actually being the mayor’s son, she was sort of hoping this would happen. She didn’t vote for him, anyway. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to lower your voice and take a step back.” 

 “I’m not lowering anything until you let me see the kid!” 

 “Sir, I’ll have to have you escorted out by security,” she insists, pressing the button under her desk discretely and watching the security guards rush into the waiting area. 

 The mayor shouts in anger as he’s hauled away, threatening to sue the hospital and insisting that Tink is infringing on his rights as a father. She smiles softly at the image she saw earlier, of a small boy sleeping away in his big bed and his father diligently guarding him from his firm, uncomfortable chair. 

 ~~~~

 Killian wanted to go for her after finding out the truth about Henry-- the fact that Walsh isn’t his father and Killian is-- but she was terrified of leaving him alone for even a second without the protection of the sheriff, so she insisted on going. He didn’t take that lying down and made her promise to stay in the hospital where it’s safe, so when he fell asleep in the hard folding chair, she kissed his forehead and snuck out of the room and down to his car. 

 It’s strange how easily she’s been able to accept the events of the day. It started with her having a mental breakdown over her husband’s maltreatment of both herself and her son, and has evolved into her feeling a sense of completion. Things are starting to feel right. Her life is falling into place. 

 Killian is Henry’s father. 

 She can continue to stress over the fact that she was too consumed by the pain of losing him to even consider the possibility later, but for now, she focuses on getting as many of Henry’s things as she can and stashing them in Killian’s squad car before she goes back to the hospital to be with her son. Killian can bring all of his stuff to his apartment later, so that she doesn’t waste any more time being away from him or being in this damn house. 

 She smiles as she grabs his favorite stuffed animal, Mr. Quackie, and pushes it into his small backpack before reaching for his nebulizer and placing that inside as well. She grabs Goodnight Moon and his favorite copy of Henry and Mudge, and just as she’s reaching for the rest of his clothes that she has laid out on his bed, she hears the front door slam. 

 In a panic, she shoves his clothes into the duffle bag as quickly as she can and zips it up, but she isn’t sure how she’ll be able to leave the house without him knowing. The squad car is parked outside, and while she was initially worried about taking it for fear of Killian getting into trouble, she’s glad she has it now. Maybe if he thinks the Sheriff is here, he won’t do anything. Maybe she can climb out the window without being seen, sneaking back in the front to grab the keys from the kitchen and making a break for it. She doesn’t need any of her own things, just the contents of the small backpack slung over her shoulder. 

 Just as she makes the rash decision to head out the window, hoping that the roof below the second story will be enough to ease her to the ground, she feels a hand on her shoulder yanking her back inside until she’s on her back and looking up. She’s never seen him look so angry-- she’s never seen anyone look so angry. He glares down at her through fury and rage and she fears what’s to come. 

 “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asks simply, seething through his teeth as she gulps and attempts to stand. He stops her by pressing the toe of his boot, still wet from the snow outside, to her forehead. “I said what the fuck is wrong with you?”

 “Um--” 

 “I just left the hospital. The school called, and when I got there, they said only Henry’s family can go into his room.” 

 She tries not to dwell on the fact that the school called him because she knows that they were required to do so. She also tries to ignore the fact that he waited almost eight hours before going to the hospital to look for Henry, able to put the thoughts of anger out of her mind and replace them with relief at him not being the father of her child. All she can do now is gulp and stare up at him in anticipation for what he might do to her. 

 He removes his boot and lets her stand, and just when he steps to the side and she’s tricked into thinking that he may let her leave, he throws her onto the small bed and screams, “his family?! How convenient is it that the hospital thinks someone else is Henry’s father?”

 “Walsh,” she tries, but he’s on her before she can go on, pressing his forearm to her throat to silence her with just enough force for it to hurt. 

 “And now you're here, in the sheriff’s car,” he hisses, spit spewing across her face as he berates her. “If you tell me he isn’t mine-- if you stuck me with this life for six miserable years for absolutely no reason-- I will fucking kill you right here.” 

 She lets out a sound that should indicate the damage he’s doing as he increases the pressure of his hold, and he lets go only long enough to replace his arm with two hands. He squeezes hard until she starts to see stars, clinging her hands to his wrists in an attempt to claw him away from her and open up her airways again. Instead of letting go, he lifts her by the neck and throws her back down against the bed with more force than she knew was possible. He screams some more, but her world is going dark and she can’t make out a word he says to her. 

 Her lips start to feel numb at the pressure he applies. Her eyes feel like they’re going to pop out of her skull. Her desperate movements at his hands weaken, and she truly believes that he means to kill her. He means to end her life as punishment for falsely saddling him with fatherhood. She has the realization that she’s about to pass out and probably die, and then sees her son’s face flashing before her eyes and is reminded of why she’s here. Not just why she’s in his room gathering his things, but why she’s here on this earth. What purpose she serves as a person. 

 She’s a mother. 

 No one can take that from her. 

 No one. 

 She lifts her hands from his, finding one last grain of strength, just enough to plunge her pointer fingers into his eyes and make him scream in painful anguish as he finally releases his hold on her. She takes the deepest breath she ever has and ever will again, and feels more sympathy for Henry than she ever has before because nothing has ever been scarier than wanting to inhale and being incapable of doing so. 

 Walsh cries out, swearing at her and calling her names before he throws her onto the floor, causing her to lose the wind in her lungs once more. But she’s committed to fighting back now, and she won’t let him win, so she kicks him hard between his legs so that he falls beside her and then moves to stand herself. 

 Grabbing the small backpack, the one that at least has his nebulizer in it, she feels Walsh's hands grabbing for her ankles as she starts to run. She makes it down the stairs and grabs the keys off of the counter, wishing she had just kept them with her, when he cuts her off. He raises the stakes, too, because he’s standing three feet from her with a gun she had no idea he owned and a wild, murderous glint in his eyes. 

 “Are you gonna shoot me?” she asks, her throat and neck burning as she speaks. 

 “I really, really want to.” 

 “What about your reelection?” she taunts.

 “Fuck you.” 

 She glances around the room as she stares down the barrel of his gun, and realizes she isn’t scared. It’s the icing on the cake, the fact that he’s had a gun in the house that her five-year-old lives in the entire time and never bothered to tell her. She’s furious. 

 So she picks up the crystal vase on the counter and he laughs, asking what she’s going to do with it when he’s standing there with a gun to her head, and she tosses it at him. It’s his grandmother’s, and he wouldn’t dare let a family heirloom shatter, so he drops the gun and catches the vase. She grabs his golf club as she runs by the bag he’d left by the entrance of the kitchen, holding it like a bat as he turns to face her again. 

 “You’re not his dad,” she confirms finally, her strength giving way to the cocky attitude that she’s been wanting to give him for months. Years. “The sheriff is. And I’ve been fucking him for months.”

 He growls in the back of his throat, grumbling something about her being a bitch, and rushes her foolishly. She swings the golf club with all of the force that she possesses and knocks him and the crystal vase to the ground, taking a deep grounding breath when he remains still, and then hurrying towards the door. 

 ~~~~

 She parks outside of the sheriff’s station, unsure of what to do next. She knows he can’t do anything to her here, and she doesn’t want to go to the hospital where Henry could see her. She also doesn’t want to let Killian see her like this, because he was right all along. 

 She always thought that a part of Walsh must've loved her, just a bit. She thought that he would never hurt her, because she’s his wife, and that’s just not how things are done. Killian was right, and she should have known better. 

 She remembers hearing a statistic in college, back when she wanted to be a social worker, about how battered women are in the most danger when they try to leave their abuser. She never for a second saw herself becoming a statistic. 

 ~~~~

 The sheriff’s car had been parked outside for twenty minutes before Deputy Ruby Lucas decided to take a peek and investigate why he wasn’t coming inside. When she finally does look, she sees something she would never have expected. 

 Of course, she figured out they were having an affair pretty easily. It’s not like they were being discreet about it, after all. But Ruby never suspected that the sheriff would lend his town-appointed vehicle to his mistress. 

 She likes the mayor’s wife well enough, even more so upon finding out how little she regards her husband. The man’s an absolute terror and she’s never liked him, and always struggled with how someone could possibly have found enough good in that man to marry him. Of course, finding out that Emma doesn’t actually like her husband very much was a bit of a pleasant surprise.

 She taps on the window on the drivers side and the woman inside jumps, staring up at Ruby with wide eyes filled with terror. “Are you alright?” Ruby asks her through the glass, and she watches as Emma grimaces as she turns her head to face forward again. Suddenly and with great clarity, Ruby’s astute deputy skills kick into gear as she notices a deeper-than-normal shadow on the woman’s neck and realizes what’s happening. “Where’s the sheriff?” she asks. 

 Emma says, “the hospital,” although her voice is rough and sounds strained. 

 Ruby wants to turn on her flashlight and take a better look at the woman before her, but thinks better of it so as to not spook her. She leans down so that she’s more on her level and says, “can you come inside with me? We can call him.” 

 She watches as the frightened woman reaches her hand up to her neck and cringes away from her own touch before undoing her seatbelt and exiting the car, her eyes wide and fearful as she looks around the empty parking lot. 

 Ruby has never seen someone look so terrified in all her years as deputy. 

~~~~

~~~~

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[maybankiara]

MY GOD, YOU’RE A SWEET THING

pairing: JJ Maybank x Female!Reader

prompt: “When the sun sets and darkness comes, I only remember your warmth, where the stars wrap around us. I’m going there, I’ll be there”- Highlight by SEVENTEEN (from my song prompt list)

summary: It’s prom night and JJ has a surprise planned for you.

word count: 3.1k

additional: i was listening to hozier while writing this and this ended up being the most emotional fluffy piece i’ve ever written, which was completely the opposite of my initial idea for the prompt (it was supposed to be more about the darkness - ended up being about the stars instead). i highly recommend listening to heavenly day by patty griffin as you read, specifically from the middle onwards (you’ll be able to tell).

written for @kiarasflowr​

requests are open

‘You look amazing,’ your sister says.

  You look at her and feel the smile taking over your entire face; her eyes are gazing at you in awe, her mouth agape, and you never thought you’d be able to get a reaction like this out of her.

  ‘Thank you, Lou.’

  ‘Don’t let it get to your head,’ she replies, spreading across your bed. ‘It’s one day out of thousands.’

  ‘JJ thinks I’m amazing every day.’

  Louise snorts. ‘Believe me, he doesn’t.’

  ‘Scoot, you pest.’

  Despite your words, you cannot help but smile at your little sister. She completely ignores your order and remains seated on your bed, typing away on her phone. You turn around your axis, watching as the fabric of the dress flows with each of your movements.

  You spent months looking for it. Kiara and Sarah helped out as much as they could, but where Sarah was overly girly, Kiara was overly boyish for your taste, and you ended up finding the dress alone, with Lou by your side. The material is light, a faded blue, and it feels as if you aren’t wearing anything at all.

  Louise was the one who helped you out with your hair, managing to get it to look all nice and put in all the right places. You did your own makeup, with Louise helping out every now and then, and you think you look good.

  Like you told Lou, JJ is going to like you no matter what. It doesn’t hurt that you’d like to exceptionally good for a change, too.

  Not long after, the doorbell rings. Even Louise’s face lights up as she realises what time it is. She walks you to the stairs and you hear your dad open the door, even though you asked to be the one to do so.

  It doesn’t matter.

  Lou steps in front of you, unable to shy away from the grin on her face. ‘He’s going to fall on his ass when he sees you.’

  You chuckle, quirking an eyebrow. ‘You think so?’

  ‘Puh-lease. You look like a freaking goddess. Do you think I’m shabby with anything I do?’

  ‘Sure thing, Lou. It’s all you.’

  ‘Damn right it is.’ She leans over the ledge and peeks into the hallway. ‘She’ll be right down!’

  ‘Did you see him?’ you ask.

  ‘Mhm.’

  ‘What does he look like?’

  Lou peeks over the ledge again, then grins. ‘He matched the tie. And the handkerchief. Y/N, stop smiling like that, it’s too much.’

  ‘Oh shut up, Lou!’

  ‘You ready?’

  ‘Don’t make a big fuss out of it.’

  She nods, stepping backwards towards the beginning of the staircase. ‘Duly noted and consciously ignored. Ladies and gentlemen,’ Lou announces, ‘welcome Y/N Y/L/N, and prepare to be amazed. Maybank, if she doesn’t come back in one piece, I’ll cut off your di—’

  ‘Enough,’ you hear your dad say sternly, even if his voice is at the edge of cracking up. There’s another nervous chuckle that you recognise as your boyfriend’s, and your heart flutters in your chest.

  Louise walks down first and you follow right behind. The heels are medium high but it still takes you a bit longer to make your way down, making the whole thing more dramatic than it already is.

  You keep your eyes on the ground and you tell yourself it’s because you don’t want to miss a step – in reality, you know that the moment you look up, the magic will either devour you whole, or dissipate.

  But you do, because you come to the last step, and your eyes lock with JJ’s and—

  If you didn’t believe in magic before, you do now.

  ‘Hi,’ he says, except he stammers it, and you see him struggling to contain himself as a wide smile spreads across his face. ‘You look – Um, you’re stunning.’

  You smile, walk over to him, and kiss him on the cheek. He’s wearing a suit that Kiara’s dad gave him and it looks good on him, making him a little less scrawny than he usually seems. You giggle when you notice that Louise wasn’t kidding when she said he matched his tie and handkerchief with your dress.

  ‘Kie and Pope helped out,’ he mumbles.

  ‘It looks dashingly handsome,’ you say honestly, loving the effect your words have on him. He blushes and he looks away, staring at behind you as you fix his tie. ‘They did a good job.’

  ‘Stop complimenting me. I don’t know how to react.’

  This is where the conversation ends, as your dad steps between the two of you to take photos. Your whole family poses with you and your mom quickly takes over your dad’s place in the pictures. JJ finds it amusing and even though he doesn’t say anything, you can tell he wishes his family could give him this experience, too.

  Instead, you just squeeze his hand and brush through his hair with your fingertips, hoping that he knows that you are his family.

  The rest of the Pogues are waiting for the two of you outside, in John B’s van. Lots of compliments are exchanged and you were right when you thought the whole group would look amazing – both Sarah and Kiara look just as good as you feel, and the boys match the vibe perfectly.

  You sit in the back, with your hand in JJ’s lap as he plays with your fingers. You’re not nervous anymore – it’s impossible to be nervous when you’re with him.

  It’s a good feeling to walk into your gym hall and see it entirely redecorated into a dance venue, littered with balloons and tapestries and tables and chairs and glasses and lots of punch that you are certain has already been spiked. John B takes the lead towards your table, holding Sarah’s hand. The whole group sits down and thankfully, the tables are set for six people, and you know you’re not going to be bothered by anyone else.

  JJ leans into your ear soon after the music begins. ‘Let’s go take pictures.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  He nods.

  ‘I thought you said prom pictures are dumb.’

  ‘Well,’ he says, playing with your fingers again, ‘I decided that they’re not dumb if I want memories of tonight.’

  You grin at him and kiss him quickly, briefly, knowing that in just a few hours, you’d be able to do more than that. ‘You’re a softie.’

  ‘Hush. Don’t let anyone hear you.’

  The two of you chat and laugh as you walk over to the photo booth. Someone on the prom committee decided that having a person taking the photos would be too expensive, so all you’ve got it a shitty photo booth. Somehow, it fits the vibe, too.

  Everything seems about tonight seems to be perfect. You’re just waiting for it to crash.

  You sit down and JJ pulls you into his lap, kissing you fully on the mouth. You don’t have a lot of time so he places a few quick kisses on your neck, before looking up at you. ‘Do you think they have cameras in here?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.’

  ‘It’s America.’ JJ shrugs. ‘They can do whatever they want.’

  You laugh and brush the hair off his forehead, giving it a kiss. ‘I think we’re good.’

  At this, JJ reaches into the pocket of his vest and takes out a small flask. By his devilish grin, you can tell you’re not going to be using that to spike any punches.

  He unwinds the cap and raises it to you. ‘Ladies first.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ You take a swig and feel the whiskey burn in your throat, but you let it simmer. It’s good whiskey – probably the best one you’ve ever had. You don’t want to know where and how JJ got it.

  Once you’ve both had a bit each, you finally take those photos. They’re goofy, mostly, and perfect representations of your relationship with JJ, and you know they’ll be something you’ll cherish for the rest of your life. But then just as you think you’re done, JJ tells you that he wants to take some proper ones.

  ‘Never thought I’d hear you say that,’ you admit.

  JJ shrugs, his eyes glancing to your lips. ‘Never thought I’d attend a prom with you.’

  ‘Sap.’

  ‘Quiet.’

  He puts the coin in the place and holds you close, gazing into your eyes. The flash goes off and you’re expecting him to move, except he doesn’t – he only drops his gaze to your lips and kisses you softly, lips barely brushing against yours.

  The flash goes off again and you hardly notice. JJ leans his forehead against yours, cradling your cheeks with a delicate touch, as if you were something he’s afraid to crush underneath his fingertips.

  The flash goes off for the last time. The sound of the pictures being printed is loud, and you can tell someone is waiting to get into the booth, but all of this could just as easily not be happening.

  The only thing you’re aware of is your face in JJ’s hands, his forehead against yours, his breath fanning your lips lightly, the smell of whiskey prominent.

  ‘I love you,’ he whispers.

  You kiss the words from his mouth.

  Some time later, everyone in your group is quite tipsy. The punch has been spiked, the whiskey has been shared (turns out, all the boys chipped in for the whiskey as a gift to the girls), and the songs have been danced to. It’s easy and it’s natural, and it just feels like a fancy party at the Boneyard.

  It’s one of the best nights of your life.

  You and JJ dance with the rest of the group to most songs, but you sit down for the slow ones. It’s for JJ, mostly, as you know he doesn’t trust in his slow dancing skills enough to do it in front of everybody.

  Whenever he apologises for it, you squeeze his hand and tell him that you’re happy, anyway. It would make the night even better, but it doesn’t make it any less great.

  JJ kisses you, without a fail, every time you give him reassurance. You’re definitely one of the most PDA couples, with John B and Sarah still taking the cake.

  At almost the very end of the night, with some half hour left before the after party at the Boneyard, JJ gets up from his seat, during one of the slow songs.

  ‘C’mon,’ he says, tugging at your hand.

  You get up, fumbling with your dress, your eyebrows furrowed but a smile dancing in the corners of your lips. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Shh.’

  JJ leads you through the hall and out of it, sneaking past the policemen guarding the entrance to the gym hall, and all the way to the inside of the building. You keep wanting to ask questions and he keeps shushing you, a vibrant smile on his face.

  It’s the thrill that’s keeping you both going. You can hear your heart thumping in your chest and the dress flows around your legs as you run as quietly as possible, holding JJ’s hand. You’re laughing with a hand over your mouth, and when he looks at you, the adoration in his eyes almost melts you.

  When you finally come to a halt, it’s right in front of the balcony through the school’s art gallery. JJ fumbles through his pocket with one hand, not letting go of yours.

  ‘JJ—’

  He shushes you again. You press your lips together, feeling both immense excitement and the early bubbles of annoyance with constantly being hushed. You watch as JJ takes a bunch of keys and puts one of them in the key hole, grinning at you devilishly.

  You sigh, shake your head, and give in to the smile that overtakes every other emotion on your face.

  JJ pushes the door open and motions for you to walk in first, which you do. He closes the door behind you, quietly, and rubs his thumb against the palm of your hand.

  The music from the hall is long enough for you to hear it even now; JJ keeps checking his wristwatch, leading you through the gallery.

  ‘What are we doing?’ you whisper. ‘And if you shush me again—’

  He crashes his lips against yours. His hands cradle your neck, thumbs moving along your jaw, and the kiss eases into softness. Your hands instinctively find themselves at his sides, and he steps closer, until there’s no space between you.

  You feels his breath on your lips and both of you are out of breath, even though you shouldn’t be.

  This feels like something more.

  When you look at him, JJ’s eyes are closed.

  ‘What are we doing?’

  ‘Wait,’ he whispers.

  His eyes open and he kisses you again, quickly, before taking your hand again and leading you through the gallery, to the balcony. He unlocks the door and closes it once you’re both out, in the fresh air. You’re surprised that you can hear the music well, as the air carries it in an unusual way – it’s loud but faint in melody, almost as it were sang by nature itself.

  It’s the second time that night that you believe in magic.

  ‘How do you like it?’

  You look at JJ and find him smiling at you, his gaze taking you in. He always looks at you with hunger, but one that’s nothing like the hunger you see in most boys – this is something deeper, a different kind of craving, one that isn’t wanting your body, but your soul, instead.

  You take a step closer and kiss him on the cheek, the way you always do. Your hands cradle his face and your thumb brushes the edges of his lips, your eyes following your finger.

  ‘I love it, J.’

  He smiles and you can almost see him breathe out the tension within him. ‘Good. But that’s not it.’

  ‘It’s not?’

  ‘Nope.’ He steps back and creates space between you, before taking your hands in his. ‘Do you trust me?’

  You consider it. ‘Not really.’

  JJ laughs and twirls you around. ‘Smart girl. I need you to trust me now.’

  ‘Don’t throw me off the roof, please.’

  ‘Y/N’—he tugs you close, breath fanning your lips—‘don’t ruin the mood.’

  You smile. ‘Okay.’

  He doesn’t give you a response, only takes a step back and twirls you to the music again, and soon enough both of you are laughing. You’re struggling to stay on your feet as the heels and alcohol combination isn’t the best, but it makes it all the funnier.

  You’ve done this so many times, yet each time, it feels different; new.

  He twirls you once more and you stumble, ending up with your back pressed against his chest. He wraps his hands around your abdomen and rests his chin on the top of your head, swaying both of you to the rhythm of the song. You find yourself relaxing into his touch, almost as if there’s no other place you belong more.

  This—JJ Maybank—is your home.

  Another song begins to play, a slow one, and you recognise it – it’s a song that you always jokingly said would play at your wedding. It’s also the song that you always associated with JJ – it somehow always played in the key moments between you two.

  You turn around and look him in the eye; he’s smiling, but his eyes are a little scared. ‘Did you set this up?’

  ‘The DJ owed me a favour.’

  You laugh and lean your head against his chest, feeling your shoulders shake. He pulls you even closer and you sway to the rhythm of the song again, only this time it feels…

  It feels different.

  JJ is singing along to the lyrics, whispering them against your ear. He moves his feet, too, reluctantly at first. You glance up at him and find him smiling, looking at you with the same adoration that makes you feel as if the world could not be better.

  He twirls you around, gently, and he holds you as he dances in circles around the balcony, and he sings, and you just see him loving you.

  You don’t know when you start crying, but you are, and his eyes aren’t dry, either. There’s smiles on both your faces and you feel your heart beating, your pals sweating, and you feel more alive than ever before.

  The song finishes and JJ brings you to a halt, still as another song begins. A few strands have fallen out of your hairstyle as you were dancing and he tucks them behind your ears, gently. His touch is gentle and brief, and you find yourself aching for more.

  He looks at you and the only word that comes to your mind is love.

  ‘Every time my life went a little sideways,’ he whispers, ‘you were there to keep me from doing the same. You were the one thing keeping me in place, no matter what shit was going on. I know that in fall, we need to go each our own way, and we’ll see what happens. But I just want you to know – I love you. With my whole heart. And I always will.’

  You pull your lips into your mouth so you wouldn’t sob; there are tears running down your face and you can’t blink them away fast enough. He wipes them away, with the tips of his thumbs, and you’ve never felt more loved.

  ‘I love you,’ you whisper back.

  JJ places a soft kiss on your lips. You expect him to deepen it, but he pulls back. ‘I want you to know that you’re always going to be the person who pulls me out of the darkness, even if you’re not there.’

  ‘Don’t talk like that,’ you say, your voice as shaky as your breath. ‘I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘I know.’ He kisses your forehead and you feel the tears on his lips. ‘I know. What I’m saying is that you’re all I want, Y/N. No one else. And I’m not asking anything from you, but I want you to know that forever with you is the only thing I could ever want.’

  You look up at him and the intensity of his gaze is almost too much to bear. ‘Are you proposing to me?’

  He chuckles, lightly. ‘Not yet. But I will, eventually, if you allow me.’

  ‘Yes,’ you say, quietly. ‘Even if it’s years from now, I will.’

  ‘Good,’ he says, confidently, but you feel him shake when he presses his lips against yours. ‘I couldn’t bear to lose you.’

  You run your fingers through his hair, smiling into the kiss, feeling his warmth. ‘You won’t,’ you promise.

  That night you learn that sometimes real life can be magical, too.

[moldisgoodforyou]

lost time (chapter five)

MASTERLIST

pairing: rafe cameron x oc

warning: cursing, underage drinking

wordcount: 2.4k

a/n: bear with me on those title gifs/images there is not much out there lmao

CHAPTER FOUR

______________

She pressed a hand against his chest to keep just enough distance between the two of them, lowering her voice a bit. “That’s not why you stopped me.”

He leaned closer, raising his eyebrows. “Enlighten me, then.”

She stayed quiet, only able to think about his heartbeat racing underneath her touch. As he bent his head down, closer, she fisted her hand in his shirt, her voice low with a warning tone. “Rafe.”

“Sophie.” He murmured back, lips hovering inches away from hers.

Sophie made the first move, reaching up and curling a hand around the back of his neck as she pulled him into the kiss. He met her lips without hesitation, his hands instantly going to her waist. She leaned into his touch, up on her toes. “M’ so glad no one’s out here.” She breathed out, keeping one hand splayed against his chest.

Rafe tried to ignore how much that hurt, like he was some secret to be kept.

They kept kissing for a while, Sophie lazily toying with the ends of his hair. After a couple minutes, he started kissing along her jaw, sucking just enough at a spot on her neck to elicit a soft moan from her. “I wish I came as your date.” He murmured against her skin as he traced his thumb back and forth over her hip.

She froze at his confession, her head clouded without clear thought. “You’re drunk.” She mumbled back, hand falling from his neck.

“I’m not.” He argued, kissing her again.

She could taste the rum on his lips, betraying his words. “Well, I am.” She replied softly, hesitating again until he went in for another kiss. “And I’m still mad about your stupid death cup rule.”

He scoffed, softly, but sounded more amused than anything. “You can’t call house rules when it’s not your house.”

Sophie scowled and pressed her hand a little harder against his chest. “It’s more my house than yours. Can’t you just follow the rules?”

He chuckled, trailing his hand higher and ran his index finger lightly along her spine. “Do you ever stop arguing, Soph?”

She shivered at his touch, willing herself not to move closer. “Not with you.”

“Can we…?” He asked with a broad grin, tipping his head toward their houses, just a short walk away.

She laughed at the proposition, harshly. “I’m not hooking up with you, Cameron. I’ll be surprised if I remember this tomorrow.”

He faltered and the grin fell from his face right away as he dropped one of his hands from her waist. “Damn, tell me how you really feel.” He choked out a sore laugh, trying again to mask his bruised ego.

She stepped back out of his grip, pressing her fingers against her swollen lips in a feeble attempt to hide any evidence of what had just happened. “I’m going to go, tell Julia for me?”

“Wait, you’re just - that’s it?” He questioned, disappointment evident.

“Yes, that’s it.” She paused, reading his expression - and laughed, again. It sounded cruel to his ears. “You didn’t seriously think something was going to happen between us, did you?”

Rafe stiffened and ran a hand through his hair, his voice flat. “No. Of course I didn’t.”

She turned, going to leave. He caught her hand in his and she turned back for a moment, caught off guard by his gentle touch. “You can’t walk home alone, Sophie, it’s dark.”

She rolled her eyes and tugged her hand out of his grip. “It’s fine, it’s literally like five-ish minutes. There are people out walking home from the bars, it’s alright.”

Rafe frowned. “Sophie…”

“Go back to your date, Rafe.” She shook her head, walking off with her head held high.

_

Sophie woke up a few hours later to Allie and Julia peering over her as she was sprawled out on one of the couches in the sorority’s formal living room. “Soph, wake up, let’s go to our room.” Allie nudged her softly, tugging gently on her wrist.

“Huh?” She mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Julia laughed and helped pull her up. “Bedtime, Sophie. You gotta stop crashing on these couches, you’re gonna get in trouble. Did Rafe take you home?”

“What? No, I think I walked.” She replied, still half-asleep and still somewhat drunk.

“Oh. He left after you did, I figured he brought you back here.” Julia shrugged, the three of them walking up to their room.

Sophie just shook her head, trying to recall the rest of her night. “I dunno where he went. You’re not going to see him again, are you?”

“No, he was nice, but. Didn’t seem interested. In me, anyways.” Julia replied, sounding unaffected.

Allie held back a smile, knowing exactly what she was hinting at. “C’mon, Soph, let’s get ready for bed. You’re gonna hate me if you wake up in a halter top.”

Sophie nodded sleepily, following along. “Prob’ly right.”

The girls made their way upstairs and Sophie was coherent enough to change into pajamas, barely sitting up on the edge of her bed as Allie dragged a makeup wipe over her face. “He’s so fucking handsome. I hate it.” She slurred, allowing herself to feel the full effects of the alcohol with the two people she was comfortable around. 

“Who is?” Julia asked, playing dumb. Allie shot her a warning look as Sophie flopped back onto the bed. 

“You know who I’m talking about. I didn’t know he was such a good kisser.” Sophie mumbled, crawling under the covers. 

“Wait, what?!” Julia practically shrieked and Allie immediately shushed her. She lowered her tone just slightly. “You two kissed? Finally!” 

Sophie groaned at the loud noise, pulling a pillow over her face. She spoke again, muffled into the pillow. Allie raised an eyebrow at Julia as they whispered in hushed tones back and forth to each other. 

“Did you know?” 

“No I didn’t know! But it took them long enough!” 

“She was drunk! She probably didn’t mean it!” 

Sophie lifted her head again, annoyance lacing her tone. “I can hear you. Shh, I’m sleeping.” With that, the two girls took the bathroom to discuss the rest of the night in private. 

_____

Rafe couldn’t get the thought of her out of his head all weekend. 

Instead of meeting up with his friends at the bar that night like he had promised, he made a quick exit from the party, giving Julia a short apology then heading out the door. Sophie was right, there were quite a few people out making their way from the bars to house parties or wherever, but he used it as an excuse to follow her home from a distance. He felt a bit creepy, admittedly, but told himself he just happened to be going home to Delt, two houses away from where she lived at Theta. (Plus if he had heard something had happened to her, he would have never forgiven himself.) 

He had never been more grateful for a lecture day in class on Monday. He could feel her gaze on him several times throughout class, wanting nothing more than to meet her eyes, but kept his head down as he scrawled notes into his notebook. At the end of class, he packed his things hurriedly, trying to rush out the door, but she was quicker and waited just outside the doors for him. “Rafe, hey!” She caught his arm as he was walking out, head down.

He slowed, stepping aside in the hallway with her and tried his best to play it cool. “What’s up?” 

She smiled like nothing had ever happened between them. “I tried getting your attention all class, you were ignoring me. I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to sit together now?”

He shook his head and tugged down on the bill of his hat, backwards as always. “Oh. Didn’t know. I was just taking notes.”

She nodded, unfazed. “Right. I just wanted to be sure we were still on to meet tomorrow night? I think our first debate is soon, I don’t want to be unprepared.” 

He grimaced, having completely forgotten. “Right, yeah. Is the library cool? Er, fine? I can reserve a room.”

Sophie waved her hand. “I already got us one. Second floor, I’ll see you at six.” She paused, giving him a once-over then a sheepish grin. “I meant to ask, did you have fun at the party with Julia? I honestly don’t remember much after the bus back to Theta.” 

Rafe’s blood ran cold and he had to stop himself from openly gaping. True to her word, she hadn’t remembered. “Um. Yeah. She’s nice, but, uh, not really my type, you know.” He tripped over his words, glancing at her neck to see if there was any trace of the mark he had left, but it was either completely healed or well-covered.

“Oh.” Sophie nodded again, completely oblivious. “Okay then, I’ll see you later.” She left him standing there, shaking his head in disbelief. 

The second he got back to Delt, he found Colin right away in their room, playing video games with James. “You can’t ask her out.” Rafe declared, standing right in front of the TV. They both ignored James’ protests and Colin pulled the headset down, confused.

“What?”

“You can’t ask her out.” Rafe repeated, arms crossed. His face was stony, jaw set. 

Colin raised his eyebrows. “Why, did something happen? This why you’ve been a space case all weekend?” 

Rafe grumbled something under his breath. “No, just - you can’t. She’s off-limits.” 

James just rolled his eyes, reaching out and kicking his leg to get him out of the way of the TV. “You can’t claim a girl that doesn’t even want you in the first place, dumbass.” 

Rafe groaned, grabbing his ankle and shoving his leg aside. “I’m serious, Colin. Delt code. And if you already asked her out, you have to tell her plans changed or something, don’t be a dick about it -” 

“Chill, chill, I haven’t said a word to her.” Colin raised his hands in surrender. 

Rafe exhaled, nodding slowly. “Right. Good. Carry on, then.” He missed Colin and James exchanging confused looks as he left the room with a huff. 

_ 

If she was going to just pretend nothing ever happened and be nice, he could deal with that. They could be friends, Rafe told himself as he swiped his card at a local coffee shop in town before his meeting with Sophie that Tuesday night. He ignored the way his stomach twisted as he first caught sight of her alone in the study room in the library, a pencil tucked up and twisted into her hair. 

“Here, Soph.” He slid into his seat across from her, pushing a cup of coffee across the table. She glanced up, ready to make a snarky remark about it being too late for caffeine, then paused as she saw the cup from Sweetwaters, her favorite coffee. Rafe pulled out his laptop, logging on, then glanced up at her. “What, something wrong? You like it with vanilla, right?”

She nodded quickly and brought it to her lips, then took a small sip and gave him a wry smile. “Yeah, um, just didn’t know you noticed. Thank you.” 

“No biggie.” He waved it off, then pushed the laptop to her and started walking her through the argument he had prepared in advance. She was totally unfocused, distracted by running every single possible meaning of what his kind gesture could have meant. After a couple minutes, Rafe caught on. “And that’s exactly why I’m taking credit for all of the project. Right?” 

Sophie nodded quickly, snapping out of it. “Right, yeah, totally. Um. Let me just read back over this real quick…” 

He laughed and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Were you listening?” 

Never willing to admit her faults, she scowled at him. “Of course I was listening.” 

He grinned. “Sure, Soph.” 

“Why do you call me that?” She interrupted. 

He shrugged. “I’ve called you that since high school, it’s nothing new.” 

“But...my friends call me Soph. And only some of them.” She pointed out. 

His lips quirked up into an amused smile. “You really think we’re not friends? Hit me where it hurts, Flint.” 

She raised her eyebrows, confused, and pulled her hand back. “You hate me.” 

He shook his head. “Not quite.” After a momentary pause, he pushed the laptop back to her. “See, like I was saying…” 

Sophie nodded at his admission, trying to hide a smile as she took another sip of her coffee. The rest of the meeting was productive, and they were both quiet as they packed up their things an hour later. “Is your family coming in next weekend? For parent’s weekend?” She broke the silence, trying to make friendly conversation.

Every third weekend in October, Columbus was flooded with parents reliving their college days and buying their kids’ meals at fancy restaurants normally frequented by locals. All of Greek life had the same time of year reserved for parent’s weekend, and with Sophie’s parents as proud alumni and her older brother now a grad student at Ohio State, her family hadn’t missed one yet. 

“Uh, no. My dad doesn’t really have time to come out with work and whatever, and.” He shrugged and preoccupied himself with zipping his backpack, head down. “You know.”

Sophie frowned, biting her lip. “Right, sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Do you have plans, then?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. “No, I’ll probably just head to the game alone. Don’t really want to crash my friend’s weekends, you know.” 

“Come hang with me.” 

He glanced up at her. “Isn’t your family coming in?” 

Suddenly emboldened, Sophie sent him an earnest smile. “Yeah, but it’s basically just a frat reunion for my dad, it’s nothing special. Come to our tailgate, I’m sure they’d like to see you.” Her dad was a golf instructor at the country club back home. He had taught Rafe in private lessons all through high school, and always spoke fondly of him. 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude…” He hedged, though he wanted nothing more than to accept the offer. 

“You wouldn’t be. At least consider it?” 

“I - yeah, I’ll think about it.” He settled.

She grinned, pulling her backpack over her shoulder. “Good. Thank you, again, for the coffee.” 

“It’s no problem.” He allowed a smile, giving her a small wave as she left.

taglist: @obx-saltlife​ @dontjinx-it @butgilinsky @oopsiedoopsie23 @taiter-tots @annedub

[stevenbasic]

...so here we are.

”...you’re tripping me!”

“I am not tripping you…” I said, as I watched her quizzically examine her keycard, which she had just pulled from her purse as we stumbled down the fifth-floor hallway, towards her room, “you’re just...really drunk.” 

“I am…” she said, voice suddenly serious, playfully so, “I really am…” 

And then she laughed like a banshee...

”Melissa shhhhh…!” I hushed her - a few drinks deeper than I thought I’d be this evening myself and trying to keep from laughing, “people might be sleeping..!”

“Ppppsssfhh… “ she sputtered, slipping her keycard into the top of her dress and waving me off dismissively, strutting ahead of me several paces. I watched her totter on her huge heels, admiring the sway of her womanly hips even in her drunken state. “It was sooo fun tonight with the band,” she said, again entirely too loudly, raising her hands above her head, now starting to slowly writhe to her own music as she walked.

”You were certainly having a good time,” I commented, outright staring now at her ass as she rolled it lasciviously, dancing by herself. In her skintight dress her cheeks shook with their own breathtaking swagger, more aggressively wanton than anything she had done earlier, and now entirely for my benefit. She was just being playful, she was sloshes out of her mind, but the end result was earthshaking, jaw-dropping. 

As she strutted, her swollen glutes slid up and down in syncopated rhythm stretching the material of her dress to the limit with every hit of the unheard bass. Three horizontal folds were now stretched across the apex of her butt, bunching the inadequate fabric with every surge and gyration of her deliciously voluptuous rear. I watched as her dress rode further up her thighs until she giggled, reached behind herself, and pulled the hem back down. 

“Dr J were you looking at my butt when I was dancing tonight?” she asked, plainly. 

“What?? When?!?” I stammered, remembering pointedly the times earlier when I’d been doing just that, “N-no..!”

“It’s really, really filled out recently,” she continued, all the while popping and gyrating her womanly hips to an unheard beat, causing her powerful looking glutes to bounce back into action. Oh god, they practically had their own gravitational pull and despite myself I still couldn’t look away. “I mean, look - itz a tank -” With that she shook her impressive glutes even more aggressively, in an earthquake of flesh and muscle, back and forth, back and forth, punctuating each swing of her hips with a  “Boom, Boom, Boom!”

“M-Melissa..!” I implored, trying to laugh, and trying not to moan...or faint - she may have more muscle in that rear than I have in my whole body - “Someone might see!”

At that she laughed and turned back, eyes half-lidded, and stepped right up to me as she spoke up. ”Oh shusssh it’s jush us...” she chided, throwing her arms heavily around my neck and looking down at me with a sozzled twinkle in her eyes, “...shorty.”

She giggled. 

I looked up at her. Christ, she was so tall: with her heels, six-six? More? I shuddered, immediately feeling so short, so small, eyes right at her collarbone, at the rings of her gaudy golden necklace. She tilted her chin up, making herself seem taller still, and peered down her nose at me. 

I felt a sudden surge of her perfume overtake me. 

“How’z the air down there?” she giggled, and played her fingers through my hair. I struggled, but suddenly felt myself unable to fight it: I glanced down into her breasts. 

Fuck...me. 

My heart pounding, I looked back up at her. I saw it in her eyes: her energy was wild, drunken, unpredictable.  She seemed to be holding herself back on a short leash, albeit tenuously. If I was going to be the one to stop things, it should be now. 

Or, well...soon. 

“Here,” she slurred, as suddenly she reached behind herself, steadying her weight on my shoulder with her other hand. Half-struggling in her inebriation, she clumsily removed one shoe, then the other. She threw her arms again over my shoulders, big sparkly stripper-heel sandals dangling behind my head from her fingers. Now, with her barefoot, we were a little more face-to-face. 

Who am I kidding?

“There we go…” she purred, still looking down into my eyes, “...that better?” 

“s-s-sure…” I stammered. Truthfully, she was still a good five (or more..?) inches taller than me, but at least I felt less...dwarfed. Eyes at her chin, nearly her big, brightly-painted lips...which she pursed for me in a drunken air-kiss. 

“Mwah!” she smooched...and then she did it again. She pursed her lips - slowly, more dramatically this time -  into a big, glossy kiss, pausing, letting me look at it, and then smacked the air between us again. “Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!”

Then she cackled like a crazy lady. 

She laughed, turned, and draped her left arm over my shoulders, her right around my middle. She glomped onto me, putting her - ooof -  weight on me, and announced: “Now...where’s my room?” 

“You’re so drunk, Melissa,” I replied, as I slowly began again to guide her down the hallway, acutely aware of the press of her big, soft breasts into the back of my right arm. 

“It’ss your own fault...“ she slurred, “you an’ that...bartender, you wanted to get me drunk didn’t you? <giggle!>” She was stepping clumsily, feet entangled in mine. 

“Oh my god am I going to have to carry you?" I joked, struggling to keep her upright, keep her from listing into the wall. Jesus she was heavy. 

"haha yes!!" she laughed, suddenly putting both arms around my neck and leaning into me, putting her full body wei-

Aaahhhgh..!!

“Ohhhhahahaha!!” she laughed pulling me down. We fell right over, me careening into the wall on my left, both of us crumpling to the ground in an awkward heap, she on top of me. 

“Melissa..!!”

Her laughter filled the hallway. “Am I that big??” she screeched, laughing again and, as she slowly started to extricate, to untangle her limbs from mine, she got to her knees, then to a crouch. She offered me a hand, as I was still righting myself. I took it and, as she began to stand, she told me “Looks like I should be the one carrying YOU!"

As soon as I got to my feet, I was swept off them. 

"WHoOOAhhhh...!" I cried, as Melissa reached her right arm under my knees, her left supporting my back, and scooped me off the floor. Suddenly I was in her arms, cradled to her like a-

“Melissa!!” I exclaimed, shocked. How is she..?!?

“Hush now, mommys got you!” she laughed, hoisting me up a bit more, settling my frame in her arms, and setting off again in a walk. “You just shush and let her take you home!”

“Stop..!” I cried, at once both humiliated at my new situation - I was being carried like a child by my new Office Manager - and awestruck. How strong is this woman?!? “Melissa put me down!!”

“You’re so light!” she marveled, as she strode with shocking ease down the hall, bearing me with less effort than seemed possible, “How much do you weigh??” 

“I, uh, I d-dunno…” I answered, finding myself flabbergasted into submission by this show of strength, “like...o-one fifty?” The power in her arms and the soft press of her chest into my right side had cowed me, and I was now passively letting her carry me, arms pinned helplessly. I looked down the hall, her door was approaching. We didn’t have far to go, and I coul-

”Omigod I outweigh you by almost forty pounds,” she crowed, “and...I just keep getting bigger…and bigger...and <hic!> bigger...<giggle!>”

I looked up at her, she down at me, her thick dark hair framing her face. That hiccup had shook my whole body. She was smiling, obviously amused at the whole situation, while I was thinking-

i’m still losing weight…

“Here we are, my roooooom…” she announced, coming to a halt and turning to the door, number 536. She made no effort to put me down, and merely held me (and her shoes, still) as she asked “Get my key for me?” 

“Wh-wh…?” I stammered, confused, “Wh-where?”

“Riiight there,” she said, looking down at her chest which - squashed into my right arm and side - bulged up over her top. And held her keycard. It was tucked into the bodice of her dress. I could just see the tip of it, white edge peeking just shy of where it lay, slipped between the dress’ neckline and her right breast. 

Oh no I c-can’t...

“It’s okay...they won’t bite,” she chuckled, and waited for my next move. She hoisted me again, settling me more firmly in her arms, and giggled at my dilemma - I was obviously too frozen by my meekness and modesty to just reach for her tits. “C’mon…” she urged, stifling a giggle, “you can do it…” 

I pulled my left arm as free as I could and, heart racing, summoned my courage and gingerly reached for the card. Just as I did, she mischievously took a sudden deep breath, inflating herself up inside her soft, elastic dress just to make my task more difficult. Lord god I couldn’t help but goggle as her huge boobs bulged.. “Melissa…” I complained, hearing myself whine but unable to tear my eyes away. She only laughed at my plight and encouraged me again.

“Itz right there, sweetie…” she cooed, and finally I was able to pinch it, take hold of it without touching her skin, and slide it out while she giggled again at my dilemma. I held the card aloft and, as she crouched a bit for me, slid the card into the lock to unbolt the latch. 

“Good boy!” she praised, managing with her right hand to grab the handle and push open the door. With me in her arms, she stepped into the room. “We’re home..!” she announced, as the door closed on its own behind us, with a portentous <thud>.

As she walked us in I saw that her room, of course, looked a lot like mine, just as a mirror image. A single king sized bed dominated the main space, a good-sized flat screen hung from the wall over a long set of drawers. A single chair with a small table sat in the corner, next to the floor-length shades, which had been drawn. The rooms here at the hotel were done in a modern-beachy style, if there is such a thing, sort of like the rest of the resort.

Currently, the lighting was dim, the covers pulled down and pillows arranged: touches from the staff that likely visited over the past few hours. Melissa walked us right up to the bed and, unceremoniously, dumped me onto it, head up near the pillows. I bounced a little on my back; the mattress was quite firm.

Immediately I started protesting. “I should go,” I said, starting to sit up but not moving from my position; Melissa had leaned over the bed, near my feet.

”No no no..! <hic> You need to relax..!”” she charged, as she grabbed one foot and began to pull my shoe from me.

“Uhh...M-Melissa..?” I queried, watching her as she dropped one shoe, and began working on the other, “I...I think I’d best-”

“Shhh, shhh….” she directed, yanking the second shoe off me, tossing it aside, “therrrrre….now you can’t tell me this doesn’t feel better…” She stood up, blew a lock of hair off her face, and-

Jumped on top of me!?!

“MELISSA!”

The bed shook, and she was laughing, as she’d just launched herself off her feet and fell onto the bed with me. I was knocked back as she’d landed at my right side, her arms straddling me, and she immediately fell down, her head hitting my chest, resting itself up near my shoulder.

“Let’s snuggle…” she cooed, purring and clucking, her nose nuzzling into my neck. She was drunk, sooooo drunk; she would of course never be this physically affectionate normally. This was beyond the pale.

“M-M-Melissa…” I began, trying to mount a defense but with the soft press of her body against mine: the face nestling into me, the strong arms around my thin chest, the big breasts squashed into my side and now a huge, long leg draped across my hips...she had me not only immobile but struck helpless. My heart raced. This was too dangerous, too much, but I was paralyzed by my own weakness, unable to move a muscle.

“MMMmmmm thisss feels so nice....” she purred, smacking her lips and rubbing her nose up my throat, “just the two of us, together, finally. I’m so happy…”

Good god I can’t let this happen, I can’t, I thought, the repercussions of infidelity storming through my brain, but being drowned out themselves by the temptations of Melissa’s body, the scent of her hair, the thought, the idea, the possibility of her peeling that dress down and-

Oh my god, what’s happening…? Her leg had found its way on top of me and was moving towards - jesus, I was hard. If that knee or thigh came to- Stop it! I told myself, Stop!

I shifted myself, turning my hips away from her, trying to avoid her leg. She moved, up my body a bit, her leg rubbing against me, still trying to find purchase, find something. She’s doing this on purpose… Jesus just the thought of that drove me harder, swelling me up towards my belly. I can’t let her feel...

In a show of resolve I didn’t know I had, I turned more, away from her to my left, flipping myself onto my left side. to shield myself. I faced away from her, bit my lower lip. My eyes were watering with the effort.

I heard her whine behind me - “awwww…” - but then, undaunted, she cuddled up closer, squashing her big, soft breasts into my back and spooning me. She raised herself up just enough to whisper directly into my left ear.

“Remem...ember when we did the pictures…? On the beach..?” she breathed, her voice so close, filling my head and making my loins clench.

I tried to keep from moaning, and was able to stutter back. “Y-yeah, like...three d-days ago..?” I was obviously aroused, she must have known that. In her drunkenness, she either didn’t care or just found this incredibly amusing.

”Did you have funnnn?” she asked, still purring into my ear. The buzz of her sozzled voice was thrilling, so intimate, and again I nearly groaned. 

“y-yeah I did….” I replied, thinking I should just stay quiet, thinking that - if I just waited here, immobile, quietly - maybe she would slowly fall asleep, pass out. But...god help me, I didn’t. Instead, I kept talking. “...I can’t believe how much...different you look, now, compared to back then…” fuck what am I doing…?

“You mean my boobs are bigger?” she said plainly, voice popping in my ear. I could hear her smile, and felt her nose nuzzle my hair. 

Again - only because she was drunk, I continued. “W-well...y-y-yes…”

”You’re right,” she purred, so drunk, “They’re soooooooo much bigger. I was maybe a triple-D back then, or an E or something...I dunno….but now I’m…” 

Her voice trailed off...but she was still breathing into my ear. Almost imperceptibly, I felt her press her breasts into my shoulders.

“Y-y-you’re w-what…?” I peeped. I couldn’t believe I was asking this.

”Omigod I don’ even know…” she giggled, “an H? Like an H-cup now? But even those, my new ones….they’re sooo tight now…”

“R-r-really..?” I asked, sounding entirely too curious, too eager.

She paused.

”Soooo Dr J…” she began again, “while we were doing the pictures...how you had to keep going into the water? Was that because you kept getting a bonerrrr..?”

“What???” I exclaimed, shocked, “Melissa!!!”

“Well...was it??” she giggled, relentless and pressing in closer.

“Melissa! No!!!” yes.

“Oh c’mon...it’s okay..!” she laughed, starting to sit up a little behind me, “I know it’s hard to hide. Randi told me…”

“Randi told you what??” Oh my god this is a nightmare!

”How...y’know...big you are <giggle!>”  she pressed, pausing, looking down at me, “So...how big are you?”

”MELISSA!!!”

“C’mon, tell me!” she cried, playfully, sitting up more and putting her hands on my hip to start to pull them tow-

Abruptly, defensively, I turned onto my stomach, facing the headboard and biting my lip again. I heard her sign in amused frustration.

“Melissa I can’t-”

”Oh shush...we’re frien’s, right?” she persisted, slumping herself again down next to me, “And it’s juss us here…” She put her mouth right next to my ear again, and bit my lobe impishly.

”Melissa this is so i-inappr-“

”....And I just told you how big I was...creepy guys are constantly asking my, like, bra size,”  she continued, unvexed, her voice slurring, perceptibly slowing down, “I’ll tell you anythingg. That my waist is twenty-two inches, my hips are thirty-eight. I’m six-one, a hundred and eighty...eight..poundsss...”

Jesus christ. I had to fight to keep myself from rutting my now fully stiff shaft into the mattress, dry humping the bed.

“So, c’mon...you tell me now....how big is it?” Her voice was getting more sleepy.

”oh my god…” 

”I know...you, you’re such a gentleman…” she drawled, “I mean I was so drunk tonight you could have totally taken advantage of me...you’re such a good...husband...”

With a pause, as I lay there on my belly tense and stock-stiff, she paused, drunkenly switching gears.

“I’m sorry your wife is so mean...” she whispered, “I’m sorry she’s...the way she is...to you…”

I lay frozen.

"If you were myyy husband I'd…well, I’d be differenttt..”

She was slurring.

“You wouldn have to work so hhard...”

I shuddered as she...oh christ...started kissing my ear, tenderly, gently. God help me I didn’t back away.

“I wouldn' let you lift a finger..."

Oh my god, Melissa...Melissa...

"...and I'd have a million babies for you."

That did it. “M-Melissa…” I whispered, as I turned to her with my lips…

She had passed out.

============================

BIG help from Doubleburger, vman2000, kjm7997 and Antares. And apologies that - tho I did the morph myself on the first image - I don’t know who did the original morph in the second. Plz advise!

[theforsakenprince]

Nightmare’s Lullaby

A/N: So this is what I’ve been working on for the past six months! A huge thank you to @jajathelivingmeme for the artwork they made of my fic which you can find here and @ts-storytime for organizing the event! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy!

Ao3 link

Masterpost

Words: 31,540

Pairings: Prinxiety

Characters: Roman, Remus, Patton, Logan, Janus, Virgil, Frost (OC)

Warnings: Minor character deaths, blood, knives, cursing, mentions of abuse, fighting, food (let me know if I need to tag anything!)

Summary: Roman had spent his entire life as a prince of the SkyWing tribe, nothing remarkable. He spent his days doing his princely duties and trying to stay in Queen Scarlet’s good graces. When he hears about an assassin killing off members of the other tribe’s royal families, he isn’t too worried. No one from the Sky Kingdom had been killed, and surely the assassin would be caught soon.

He’s proven wrong when the RainWing queen is murdered at a meeting and Remus goes missing. Queen Scarlet tasks him with finding the assassin and putting them down, and he doesn’t want to find out what will happen if he doesn’t.

If Roman were given any choice in the matter, he would most certainly not be  sitting next to Queen Scarlet, watching over the arena battles. But since he wasn't given a choice, he found himself doing exactly that on the balcony overlooking the stadium, absolutely miserable.  

The smell of dead dragons made his stomach churn. The way the crowd roared for blood made him want to squeeze his eyes shut and clap his talons over his ears. The way his mother, Queen Scarlet, seemed to enjoy the screams of agony made him want to vomit over the side of the balcony where they watched the arena fights.

To put it simply, he was the exact opposite of his brother.  

Where Roman was disgusted, Remus was thrilled. Where Roman wanted to gouge his own eyes out, Remus watched with unrestrained glee, which was probably why Remus had become Queen Scarlet’s champion. After a prisoner had won a few fights, Scarlet always sent Remus in. She said that if they could beat him, they could go free.

No dragon had ever beaten Remus. 

So when Roman saw his brother was going to fight, he knew it was going to be a short one.

“Welcome to today’s battle!” Prince Vermilion, the announcer, shouted from the center of the arena. “In this corner, we have Horizon of the SandWings!” he swept a wing to the side where Horizon cowered. Horizon was bigger than Remus, but he still looked terrified. Roman could see the SandWing’s legs trembling from his spot next to Scarlet.

“And in the other corner, we have Her Majesty’s champion, Prince Remus of the SkyWings!”

The crowd roared so loudly they shook the stadium. Roman had to suppress a wince. Remus grinned and basked in the crowd’s cheering.

Vermilion spread his wings and started to rise slowly. “Are our battlers prepared? Claws out! Teeth ready! FIGHT!” Vermilion flew over to the balcony and landed beside Roman to watch the battle unfold. 

Horizon turned and bolted, then stopped, as if just realizing he was trapped. He whirled around and faced Remus, growling. His barbed tail lashed, sending clouds of sand to stir up around him.

Remus, meanwhile, hadn’t moved a muscle. Horizon, unsure of what to do, swiped a talon at him, but Remus sidestepped easily and twisted, flinging sand into the SandWing’s eyes. Horizon hissed and shook his head to dispel the grit, clawing at his eyes. While he was blinded, Remus lunged forward and shoved him into the ground, but Horizon managed to scramble away. He turned around and raised his poisonous barbed tail like a scorpion, hissing.

Beside Roman, Queen Scarlet yawned. “Get on with it!” she yelled. Remus glanced at her and Horizon pounced, his claws aimed at the champion’s throat.

Remus whipped around, suddenly holding a knife. He stabbed upward with the knife, hitting Horizon in the chest just before he could tear out Remus’ throat. The SandWing crumbled to the ground, coughing and spitting out blood. Horizon was dead within moments. Remus pulled the knife free and wiped it on his frilly sleeves, staining them red.

Vermilion grunted. “Good one.”

As the guards rushed to clean up the mess, Remus flew up to the balcony, grinning. “Did you see how fast I did that?” he said, catching up to Roman as he started to walk back to their chambers. “That was too easy. The criminals are slacking.”

Roman smirked. “Or maybe you’re just really good at your job. Where did you hide that knife anyway?”

“I hid it up my-”

“You know what, I don’t want to know.”

“-sleeve. I was going to say sleeve.”

“Right. I knew that.”

Roman stepped into the room he and Remus shared. A black line divided the room in half, with Roman’s side being mostly red and white and Remus’s mostly green and black. Despite the palace having more rooms than Queen Scarlet could ever use, Roman insisted on sharing a room with Remus. It just felt… right.

Remus moved to his half of the room, placing his knife on the wall where an assortment of weapons hung. He started to rearrange his weapons in an order Roman could never figure out. As far as he knew, there was no rhyme or reason to it.

“Did you hear the news?”

Roman was busy dusting off his cloak and wrapping it around his shoulders, studying himself in his floor to ceiling mirror. “What news?”

He could feel Remus’s eyes on his back. “You seriously don’t know?”

Roman narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

Remus shrugged and turned back to his wall of weapons. “King Gill of the SeaWings has been assassinated.” 

Roman sighed. “So soon after the RainWings lost Princess Toucan. When was that, a week ago?”

Remus didn’t reply.

He looked over his shoulder, concerned. “Remus?”

For a second, he thought Remus looked… worried? But then the moment passed and the grin was back. 

“Yep! That was just a week ago. Time flies when royalty’s getting murdered!”

“Indeed,” Roman murmured as he finally did the clasp for his cloak. Suddenly, something occurred to him. He stepped over the line that divided the room in half. “How did you know Gill was murdered? Of course,” he answered himself. “You’re Remus.”

“That I am, brother,”

Just then, a SkyWing burst into the room, panting hard. Roman widened his eyes and moved forward to catch her as she listed to the side.

“Th-thank you,” she said after she got her breathing under control. “Queen Scarlet wishes to see you both in her throne room, Your Highnesses.” she bowed deeply to both of them before swiftly leaving the room.

He glanced at Remus nervously. Being summoned by the queen in the Sky Kingdom was never good. “Do you know what she wants?”

“Why would I know?”

“I don’t know! You just seem to know everything that happens around here!”

Remus pondered that for a moment. “Fair enough.”

“...Do you want to go see what she wants?”

“That would be great.”

.

“There you are! You took your time.” Queen Scarlet’s voice had an unnatural cheer to it, as if the slightest inconvenience would send her on a murder spree (that had happened once. Roman had been horrified.)

Roman bowed deeply. “We apologize for being late, Your Majesty.” he could feel her gaze searing into his head. He resolutely kept his eyes on the ground and his expression blank. He didn’t dare move a muscle.

Remus crouched beside him. “Suck up,” he hissed, too quietly for Queen Scarlet to hear. 

He wanted to protest, to say that no, he was not a suck up, but Scarlet was looking at them exasperatedly, and he valued his life, thank you very much.

“Oh, you can get up,” she said when neither of them moved for a few moments. “I have a very important job for you.”

Roman got up slowly, eyeing her warily, and nudged Remus, prompting him to do the same. “What you may not know is that King Gill of the SeaWings has been murdered,” Queen Scarlet said, far too casually for the topic she was discussing. “The other queens are setting up a meeting at the SandWing stronghold to discuss what to do next and all that. You two are going to represent the SkyWings! Isn’t that thrilling? You should go to your room to prepare, you leave first thing tomorrow.”

Roman nodded and dipped his head. “We’ll get packed right away Your Majesty.” he wondered why she wasn’t going herself, but from the way she was looking at them, he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask.

“You better. Oh, and Roman?” she said, making him stop and turn around to face her.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Don’t disappoint me.”

.

Roman shouldered his pack as he waited for the guards to join them at the front of the palace. He and Remus had finished packing ages ago, and he was just about to lose his mind. He was still pondering what Queen Scarlet had said to him before.

Don’t disappoint me. What did that mean? He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he did disappoint her, whatever that meant.

“Didn’t Queen Scarlet say she would talonpick the guard herself?” Remus said irritably, flinging rocks off the edge of the palace and watching them skitter down the mountain. “So what’s taking her so damn long?”

“Shush!” Roman hissed, looking around to see if anyone heard. “You never know who’s listening. However,” he added in a hushed tone, leaning toward Remus, “I agree wholeheartedly.”

“Prince Roman,” a voice from behind him said.

He immediately straightened his posture and whirled around to face the speaker.

He found himself face to face with his sister, Princess Ruby. She had a wing of six SkyWings at her side, all who were much bigger and more threatening than him. Ruby flicked her tail and the guards formed a line behind her.

“Prince Remus,” she acknowledged his twin with a dip of her head before turning back to Roman. “We’re ready to depart whenever you are.”

Roman nodded and turned toward the horizon. “Let’s go while there’s still daylight left. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

.

Six days and far too many complaints of aching wings later, the SandWing stronghold was finally within sight.

They touched down on the burning sand. Roman checked to make sure everyone was still following him, then made his way to the palace.

Remus walked alongside him. “I hope a fight breaks out. Remember last time? Now that was entertainment! I don’t think I’ve seen Ruby so angry before!”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that this time,” Ruby said from behind them. “As long as Queen Thorn doesn’t make passive aggressive comments and Prince Nightstalker has learned to hold his tongue-”

“-And none of us wound Queen Glacier’s pride.” Roman added.

“And Queen Coral doesn’t take every comment as an insult toward the SeaWing royal family,” Remus piped up.

Ruby sighed. “This is going to be a disaster.”

Roman tilted his golden wings to catch the sunlight. “Well, let’s try to be as diplomatic as dragonly possible, shall we?”

Princess Ruby offered him a small, rare smile. “You simply ask for the impossible, brother.” The three chuckled as they approached the heavy, iron doors of the stronghold. 

The two SandWing guards that stood at the entrance of the stronghold raised their spears at the approaching SkyWings threateningly. “Your names and titles.”

“Prince Roman of the SkyWings.”

“Prince and Champion Remus of the SkyWings.”

“Princess and General Ruby of the SkyWings.”

The SandWing guards shared a glance, probably wondering why Queen Scarlet was not present. Roman picked at the flap of his satchel and prayed that they wouldn’t mention it.

Fortunately, the guards pulled the heavy doors open without questioning them. They began to accompany the SkyWings down a long hallway lined with torches as Ruby ordered the SkyWing guard to stay outside. They were eventually led into a large room made of sandstone. A circular table took up a majority of the room. As they entered the room, Roman’s eyes were drawn to the large, black box that sat in the corner. A strange hissing sound emanated from the box, and he wondered what was in it. 

His attention was drawn back to the table as more dragons arrived. Despite living a great distance away from the sand kingdom, they were the second to arrive, beaten only by the RainWings. 

“You’re Prince Roman, aren’t you?”

He whirled around. In front of him stood a peculiar looking RainWing. His scales were blue and black, a strange color combination for a RainWing to choose. Glasses sat upon his triangular face, and spikes ran down his neck and ended on the tip of his tail.

“You would be correct in assuming that I am Prince Roman,” he said, quickly regaining his wits. He looked closely at the shorter dragon. “I can’t say that I’ve seen you around before. What’s your name?”

The RainWing adjusted his glasses. “My name is Logan, advisor to Queen Grandeur.”

“Advisor? I didn’t think advisors were… important enough to be present here.”

Logan frowned, but ignored his comment. “Anyway, I approached you to inquire about Queen Scarlet’s absence.”

Roman opened his mouth, but had no idea what he was supposed to say. She was busy? Had other matters to attend to? Now Logan was staring at him expectantly and he still hadn’t come up with an excuse and oh moons he was going to disappoint all his SkyWing ancestors-

He was saved from eternal embarrassment by a roar for a silence. The meeting was about to begin.

Roman gave Logan an awkward smile and quickly took his seat between Remus and Ruby, near the corner where the black box sat. He turned his attention towards the head of the table, where Queen Thorn looked uncomfortable sitting on an elaborate throne. Beside her was her NightWing-SandWing hybrid daughter, Princess Sunny. She was a small, golden yellow dragon that looked entirely out of place in the midst of all the royals.

Next to Sunny was the NightWing queen, Queen Voidwalker and her son, Prince Nightstalker. Voidwalker was gazing regally around the table, and with a jolt Roman remembered that she could read minds as well as see the future. He ducked his head as her gaze landed on him. On Voidwalker’s other side was Queen Glacier of the IceWings. She looked miserable in the heat, and was constantly fanning herself with her wings. Her guards sat behind her, still as statues.

Queen Moorhen of the Mudwings sat next to the IceWing. Like Glacier, she hadn’t brought anyone else from the royal family. Her guards were nowhere to be seen. Queen Coral and her daughter, Princess Tsunami, sat next to Remus. Both of the SeaWings were drowning in pearls and other jewelry (it was quiet overkill, in Roman’s humble opinion)

Lastly, on Ruby’s side sat Queen Grandeur of the RainWings and her advisor, Logan. The queen’s scales were a brilliant shade of purple, though they were slowly starting to shift towards green. Logan’s scales were still the same blue and black.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Queen Thorn announced, effectively ending any remaining conversations. She cleared her throat. “We are gathered here today-”

“Oh, skip all the boring stuff, we know why we’re here,” Remus interrupted. Roman elbowed him hard beneath the table. Remus discreetly stuck his tongue out at him. 

“Prince Remus is correct,” Queen Voidwalker said, to Roman’s surprise. “every second we spend in inaction is a second given to the assassin. Lives are at stake.”

Princess Tsunami nodded. “They have already taken Princess Toucan of the RainWings and Lady Crane of the MudWings.” she paused, her claws digging into the table. “And my father, King Gill of the SeaWings.”

The table was silent for a moment.

Queen Glacier broke the silence. “Is there a pattern to these murders?”

Logan replied, “Not any pattern that makes sense. The assassin’s first victim was Princess Toucan. However, they left the queen and her granddaughter alone, which of course we’re all grateful for, but doesn’t make sense if the assassin’s goal is to kill the royal families. Next, the assassin went to the Mud Kingdom and killed Lady Crane. What puzzles me is after visiting the Mud Kingdom, the killer flies all the way back to the Sea Kingdom with no reported sightings in between.” Logan took a deep breath. “The only pattern I can find is the victims are all from different tribes.”

“Who’s doing this?” Princess Sunny asked nervously. Roman didn’t miss the way her voice shook.

“I think the real question is who’s going to be next?” Voidwalker growled, clenching her fists. “The killer’s murders seem to be random, so we cannot rely on a pattern.”

“If I may add something,” Roman cut in. “I think it is important to note that no queens have been killed.”

“Yet,” Queen Coral said in the high, paranoid voice of hers. “They have already taken my king. It’s safe to assume that no one in the royal family-or anyone, for that matter- is safe from this killer.”

“So the most we can do is keep an eye on our families?” Queen Grandeur demanded, flaring the ruff on her neck. “That doesn’t sound like much of a solution, I’m afraid.”

“Actually,” Queen Thorn said, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “this brings me to the reason I called you all here.”

This piqued the interest of the royals. Roman raised a brow, prompting her to continue.

“I propose a continent wide dragon hunt.” Queen Thorn continued. “My hope is that we find and apprehend the assassin quickly and we can put this all behind us.”

Silence filled the room as the royals contemplated this.

“It’s preposterous,” Prince Nightstalker said after a moment despite Queen Voidwalker shooting him a glare. “We need our armies at our palaces to defend the royal family. We shouldn’t spread our forces too thin.”

“On the contrary,” said Queen Moorhen, lifting her large, flat head. “If we combine our forces, finding the killer won’t be a problem. They can’t hide from all the seven tribes. Not for long, at least.”

As the room dissolved into arguing and shouts, the hissing from the black box only grew louder. Roman flinched as Ruby stretched her long neck and added her roaring to the noise. He resisted the urge to cover his ears and settled for digging his claws into the wooden table and gritting his teeth, praying to the moons that the yelling would stop.

A bloodcurdling scream was what finally silenced the noise.

A viper the size of Roman’s entire body had latched onto Queen Grandeur’s throat.

At first, stunned silence. Then, Logan stumbled back, eyes wide with fear, followed by ear splitting shrieks.

All the dragons ran for the hallway, pushing and shoving anyone in their way. Roman was thrown to the ground by an IceWing guard. He clutched his bag close to his chest as his heart pounded and he staggered to his feet, looking around wildly for Remus and Ruby. They were nowhere in sight.

“Remus!” he roared, pushing through the crowd of panicked royals and guards. “REMUS!”

He was slowly being pushed toward the hallway when he suddenly tripped. He hissed as someone stepped on his claws. Roman craned his neck to see what he tripped on and stifled a scream.

The empty, sightless eyes of Queen Grandeur stared back at him, the dead snake coiled around her neck. He shuddered and got to his feet.

“Prince Roman?” a voice from behind him called out.

“Not right now, I need to find my brother and make sure he’s okay-”

“Prince Roman.”

He turned around. Logan was crouched over Grandeur’s body in the now empty meeting room. He had tossed the snake’s body to the side and was currently trying to heave the body up.

“I... may... require some assistance,” Logan said with a huff, letting the body fall to the floor.

Roman blinked, setting aside his internal panic. “Of- of course.” He slung the queen’s body across his back, grunting with the effort. She was much heavier than she looked.

The two walked side by side down the hallway, Logan muttering under his breath while Roman looked for any signs of Remus and Ruby. He was really starting to worry and almost regretted helping the RainWing instead of looking for his tribemates.

“Dragonbite viper,” Logan said as they exited the palace.

“Sorry?” Roman said absently, his gaze sweeping across the empty desert.

“That snake was called a dragonbite viper. The only snake on the continent that can kill a dragon with a single bite.”

“Oh.” was all Roman said.

 They continued across the sand, the sun’s heat beating onto Roman’s scales, yet he refused to rest. He was afraid that if he stopped walking, he would give in to the panic and not be able to get up again.

“This was most certainly the assassin’s doing,” Logan said matter-of-factly. “It’s too deliberate to be a coincidence.” Roman was too tired to reply.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, they came across an oasis. Roman set down the body onto the sand and rubbed his aching shoulders. It was fully dark. Two full moons hung in the sky, the third barely visible behind the clouds.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked softly. He wasn’t sure if he was asking Logan or himself.

“Go back to the rainforest, firstly.” Logan answered. “Then hunt down the assassin. They are not getting away with this.”

Privately, Roman thought the tiny RainWing was biting off more than he could chew, but he kept that thought to himself.

“Logan!” a voice from above called. Roman tensed, then relaxed when he realized the voice belonged to a RainWing.

Logan squinted at the sky. “Is that… Emile?”

Emile landed and immediately ran towards his friend. “We searched everywhere for hours! We thought you were dead!” His scales turned from camouflage to a radiant yellow. 

“Well, as you can see, I am alive and well. But the queen…”

Emile’s scales turned a desolate grey and his smile melted. “So the rumors are true?”

Logan nodded in affirmation, and the two RainWings lowered their heads. Roman stood awkwardly to the side, desperately wanting to leave to search for his companions, but not wanting to interrupt them.

After a moment of silence, Emile lifted his head. “I have a message for you. Prin- Queen Glory wants you to stay away from the rainforest until the assassin is caught.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “Did she say why?”

Emile shook his head. “She wouldn’t give any more details. I think she’s afraid the killer will target you because you witnessed the murder.”

Logan shuddered. “Understood.”

“Oh! Before I forget!” Emile said. “Um, you’re Prince Roman, right?”

He nodded.

“Queen Scarlet had a message for you.”

Roman widened his eyes. “Really? What did she say?”

He fidgeted with his claws nervously. “She- she said that you are tasked with finding the assassin,” he looked up apologetically. “and you can’t go back to the Sky Kingdom until you do so.”

Roman opened his mouth, then closed it, searching for the right words. Why would Queen Scarlet choose him? He was hardly qualified to find a killer. His skills mostly consisted of storytelling and painting. Remus was the one who was good at fighting. Does she want to get rid of me that badly?

 He finally settled for “Thank you, er… Emile, was it? I’ll try my best.” If I don’t die first.

Emile coughed uncomfortably. “Well, I’ll take Grandeur and be on my way, I guess.” he heaved Grandeur onto his shoulders and crouched to leap in the air.

“Wait!” Roman said, a question on the tip of his tongue. “Have you seen my siblings, Remus and Ruby?”

Emile brightened. “Actually, I have seen Ruby on her way to the Sky Palace, though I have not seen Remus. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize!” on the outside he was smiling, but a fresh wave of worry threatened to overwhelm him. Was his brother okay? Where did he go? And more importantly, how in the world was he supposed to find an assassin?

As Emile left with the queen and his squadron of RainWings, Logan’s frill fluttered nervously. “Seeing as I’m unable to return to the rain kingdom, I could perhaps… assist you in your search?”

That stirred Roman out of his thoughts. “Really? You?”

Logan shot him a glare. “Yes, me. It might surprise you, but I am not entirely useless.”

Roman scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. It’s just…” he wasn’t sure how to describe whatever it was that he was feeling, but thankfully, Logan seemed to understand.

“It’s quite alright,” he said. He began to make preparations for the night, making indentations in the sand for them to sleep in. Roman had a feeling that the strange RainWing would find a way to follow him, whether or not he refused his companionship.

“I’ll stay awake to keep watch for threats,” Roman said.

Logan yawned. “Wake me when you begin to feel tired. A sleeping guard won’t do anybody any good.” his eyes were already closing, and within moments, Logan was asleep.

For a while, Roman paced back and forth, too energized to sit still. Twice he almost stepped on a scorpion. He lost count of how many times he heard wingbeats and looked up hopefully, only for it to be a bat or some other desert dwelling creature. 

He was about to wake Logan for the next shift when he heard a snap.Suddenly alert, Roman headed toward the noise.

He could barely make out the silhouette of a dragon on the other side of the oasis, drinking from the small pond. Roman crouched down and snuck along the perimeter of the pond, trying not to make a sound. As he crept closer, he realized the dragon was an IceWing. Spikes sprouted from the IceWing’s neck and went down their back. The dragon’s ice colored scales caught the light of the moons, causing them to glisten.

What if this is the assassin? He thought. Am I skilled enough to fight them? 

Despite his hammering heart and every rational thought screaming at him to wake Logan and run, he snarled and pounced, landing squarely on the IceWing’s back.

The IceWing roared and threw him off. Sand filled his nose and mouth and he coughed. She was on him in an instant, pinning him to the ground. The IceWing’s claws dug into his shoulders, drawing blood. 

Roman twisted his neck around and sank his teeth into her arm. She roared in pain and tried to wrench her arm free from his grip, but he didn’t let go, even when the sharp taste of blood reached his tongue.

The IceWing finally managed to get free of Roman and stumbled back, giving him enough time to get back on his feet. He crouched in a defensive stance, but the expression on the IceWing’s face stopped him from attacking.

“Wait… are you Prince Roman?” she asked, squinting. Dark blue blood dripped from the bite in her arm.

“That is the third time I’ve been asked that question today,” he said, feeling irritated. “You’d think they’d recognize me! I don’t even look like most SkyWings anyway!”

The IceWing gave him a tired look. “Is that a yes?”

“...yes.” 

“Then why did you attack me?” Roman flinched at the sudden outburst. “Aren’t you supposed to be brave and honorable or something?”

“Wait, the other tribes really say that about me?” he asked delightedly, rising from his defensive crouch.

“Stop changing the subject.”

“Right,” he grumbled. “Sorry for attacking you. Although, one can’t be too careful in these times.”

The IceWing raised a brow. “Do I really look like an assassin?”

“You did leave these nasty scratches in my shoulders,” Roman whimpered. “I think I might be dying!”

The IceWIng rolled her eyes. “As long as it doesn’t get infected, you’ll be fine. If anyone should be worried, it’s me.” she inspected the gash in her arm. “You left a pretty deep bite in there.”

“Oh, er, sorry about that.”Roman squinted at the IceWing. “Wait, I know you. You’re Frost, aren’t you? First circle IceWing? Youngest member of the royal guard at six years old?”

Frost blinked at him. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”

“Well, Frost, where is your queen? And the rest of the guard? Perhaps I could accompany you-”

“No!” Frost said quickly, her eyes widening. “I mean.” she regained her composure. “I can find my way back on my own.”

Roman blinked at her. “Are you sure? It wouldn’t be any trouble-”

“I’m fine,” she said firmly.

“Well, at least stay with us for the night. No one should be wandering the desert alone. Especially when it’s dark.”

Frost avoided his gaze while she contemplated his offer. Finally, she said,  “Alright. But only for tonight. In the morning, I’m leaving.”

He nodded. “That’s fair. Now come and get some rest. You look exhausted.”

He led her to the empty spot next to Logan. It took some time to convince her that no, he was not going to kill her in her sleep and yes, she was completely safe here.

As Frost finally fell asleep, Roman realized how tired he was. He briefly considered waking Logan, but decided not to. Perhaps a part of him still clung to a small, foolish hope that Remus would show up, laugh Roman’s worries away, and they could go hunt the assassin down together.

No such hope arrived.

As Roman watched the horizon steadily turn brighter, he wondered what his brother was doing now, and if he was even alive.

.

“Roman, who is that?”

Roman jerked awake, blinking in bewilderment. The sun had fully risen and was slowly making its way across the sky.

“What?” he asked groggily when he finally registered Logan’s question.

The RainWing sighed and pointed at Frost, who was still asleep. “Who is that IceWing? I almost spat my venom at her.”

Roman blinked the last of the sleep away. “Oh, Frost? She was one of the IceWing guards that came with Queen Glacier. I told her she could stay at the oasis for the night.”

Logan sat back on his hind legs and rubbed his forehead. “This kind of… politeness… will only bring about more trouble. There is a murderer on the loose, remember?”

Roman frowned. “Just because there’s a killer out there doesn’t mean we have to stop being nice to strangers.”

“Those words are going to be written on my tombstone, aren’t they?”

“What’re you two yapping on about?” Frost said from behind them, sounding irritated. She stretched each leg one at a time before climbing the sand dune to join them.

Logan sighed. “Nothing of importance. Isn’t it about time you were on your way, Frost?”

Frost rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, I gotta fly over the entire rainforest today. That’s gonna be fun.”

Roman narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t the Ice kingdom in the opposite direction of the rainforest?”

Frost froze, looking trapped. “Well, um, Queen Glacier said that she wanted to speak with the Queen of the RainWings before going back to the Ice Kingdom?”

Before Roman could even blink, Logan was on the IceWing’s back, his fangs aimed at her throat. “She’s lying, Roman,” he said quickly. “She’s the assassin. She was probably on her way to the MudWings or SeaWings, if I had to guess.”

“Wait!” Frost exclaimed, struggling to stand under Logan’s weight. “I swear by my mother’s grave that I’m not the assassin. I have an explanation for this.” Logan hesitated and glanced at Roman, unsure. Roman nodded slightly and Logan sighed, getting off of Frost.

“Fine. You may explain, but one wrong move and I give you a face full of venom.”

Frost growled softly. “I didn’t get separated from my tribe, I ran away. And I don’t plan on going back either.” she glared at both of them. “That good enough for you?”

They were both silent for a few moments.

Logan stared at her, shocked. “You would abandon your tribe? After all they’ve done for you?”

“They didn’t do shit for me.” she snarled, lashing her tail. “You haven’t lived with the IceWings. Maybe your tribe actually cares about its dragons, but mine didn’t. You don’t know anything.”

Logan shook his head, bewildered. “I don’t understand.”

But Roman did understand, sort of. He understood the feeling of wanting to leave your tribe because they’ve hurt you, and how could they possibly be your tribe if they’ve hurt you? How were they supposed to be your family if they cared so little for you?

Roman stepped forward. “I may not understand exactly why you left, but I understand that you’re not here to hurt anyone.”

Frost stared at him suspiciously. “So you’re letting me go? Just like that?”

“Hold on,” Logan said, eyeing the IceWing warily. “I think we’re being a little hasty. I don’t think we should let her go just yet.”

Roman turned to him. “So what do you suppose we do?”

“Simple. We take her with us. If she is the assassin, then you,” he nodded at Roman. “have completed your task and you can go back to the Sky Kingdom. If she isn’t, then she’ll help us find the actual assassin.” he turned to Frost. “Isn’t that right?”

Frost was silent for a moment, seeming to realize that she was trapped. “Fine. It’s not like I have anything better to do. But after all this is over, I am owed an apology.”

Logan ignored her last statement and turned to him. “What should our next course of action be? I am reluctant to admit this, but,” he added in a low voice. “I don’t have a single clue where we should start. I’ve thought about it, trying to find a pattern or a lead or something, but I have had no luck.”

Roman thought back to the meeting  and the moment the Dragonbite viper appeared. “You know, back in the meeting room, there was a black box in one of the corners. I’m sure I heard hissing noises coming from it.”

Logan tilted his head thoughtfully. “So you think we should go back to the SandWing Stronghold and investigate this black box?”

“Yep!” he wiggled his tail happily. “Oooh, I feel like a real detective!”

Logan sighed and muttered something along the lines of, “I am surrounded by idiots.”

“So that’s your big plan?” Frost cut in. “What about after that? The assassin could be anywhere.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Roman said, turning in the direction of the stronghold. “For now, we’ve got a SandWing Queen to visit.”

.

“What’s even the point of coming back here?” Frost complained, using her wings to shield herself from the sun. “I don’t think Thorn will have any information. Grandeur was killed by a snake. And are you sure that snake was planted by the assassin? Maybe Thorn just had a Dragonbite Viper that unfortunately got loose.”

Logan frowned. “Why would Thorn keep a Dragonbite Viper, of all snakes?”

Frost shrugged. “I don’t know, SandWings are weird.”

Roman gritted his teeth. “Why would she keep the snake in the meeting room, of all places? No, it was too deliberate to be a coincidence. We have to ask her where that black box came from.”

Frost sighed. “You keep mentioning this… black box, but are you sure you didn’t imagine it? I didn’t see it.” 

“It was shoved in a corner. Lots of dragons didn’t see it.”

 “Whatever you say, Your Highness.” she said mockingly.

Roman suppressed a sigh and kept walking. The past day they had been trekking back to the stronghold, enduring the brutal heat of the desert. Frost, as the only IceWing, had it the worst, but Roman was surprised that she didn’t complain (much). But even if she didn’t complain, however, she did find great joy in finding everything wrong with every sentence that came out of his mouth, and that was starting to get on his nerves.

“We’re here!” Logan shouted from the top of the next sand dune. After making sure they were following, he started down the other side of the dune. Roman struggled up the side of the dune and sat down at the top with a huff. Frost settled beside him, wiping sweat from her brow but otherwise looking unbothered.

Logan was already walking towards the Stronghold and Roman scrambled down the mountain of sand. Frost glided down gracefully and landed beside him, smirking.

Show off, Roman thought to himself.

Up ahead, Logan was already talking to the SandWing guards in front of the palace.

“-so we need to see the queen,” Logan was saying to the guards. “And quickly, if possible.”

Roman walked up to them while Frost hung back. “It is of the utmost importance.”

The guards glanced at each other, uncertain. Then, the guard on the right nodded and opened the door.

“Fine, but make it quick.” She turned to Frost. “And the IceWing stays here.”

“What? Why?” Frost asked, eyes wide.

“You say you’re here on royal business? Well, you’re not royalty.” she nodded at her partner. “Keep an eye on her.”

Frost opened her mouth to protest, but was stopped by a glare from Logan. She clamped her jaw shut and sat down angrily.

As they were escorted into the stronghold, Roman leaned down and whispered, “How much did you tell them?”

Logan kept his gaze forward. “Enough to get us an audience with Queen Thorn.”

Roman drew back, uneasy. He wasn’t sure he wanted all of Pyrrhia to know he had been sent on a fool’s quest. Nevertheless, he kept his chin up, his back straight, and his eyes forward.

They were led through long hallways and winding tunnels, so many that Roman wondered how anyone could possibly navigate it. Eventually, they arrived at a courtyard. Tents were scattered around it, seemingly at random. The SandWing guard beckoned them toward the tent in the middle, calling out to whoever was in it.

“Come in,” called a voice from inside, presumably Thorn. Roman and Logan shared a look before crouching through the front flap.

Pillows lined the inside of the tent. Queen Thorn, Princess Sunny, and other dragons Roman didn’t recognize were sitting around it, engrossed in their own conversations. He counted at least five dragons before Thorn started to speak.

“Prince Roman? I must say, I’m curious to see why you’ve come.” Thorn waved the guard away before giving Roman her full attention.

“Well,” Roman started. “We are here to inquire about Queen Grandeur’s… assassination.” He could feel the stare of several sets of eyes on him, but he kept his gaze on Thorn’s, waiting for a reply.

“Sunny,” Thorn said, standing up. “Stay here and continue with things until I return.”

Sunny looked up at her mother. “But-” she was silenced by Thorn’s stern stare.

Thorn swept past them and beckoned for them to follow her. Roman and Logan followed the Queen back into the palace, entering the first empty room they came across.

Thorn spun around to face them.  “Let’s get down to business.” she looked at them, narrowing her eyes. “Why do you want to ask about Grandeur’s… death? If you’re thinking about going after the assassin, I can’t help you.”

“That’s alright, Your Majesty.” Roman said, dipping his head. “All I ask is that you tell us where you acquired the black box that was in the meeting room on that day.”

“What black-Oh.” Thorn’s eyes widened in realization. She pushed past them, beckoning them to follow. 

“While I can’t tell you where it came from, I can take you to see it.” She led them through brightly lit passages, a few that were somewhat familiar to him from his previous visits. 

Logan frowned thoughtfully. “If I may ask, why can’t you tell us where it came from? It must have come from somewhere.”

Thorn pushed open the door that led to the meeting room. “It just… appeared one day, and I wasn’t notified about it until after the meeting.” she made her way to the other side of the room toward the box, chuckling. “I’m afraid my Outclaws are too used to dealing with problems on their own.”

No one told the queen? What kind of guards are they? He quickly dismissed the thought. It wasn’t his problem if the guards here were unreliable.

Roman leaned closer to the box, inspecting it. It was black, with seven clasps on it, five on the front and one on either side. Thirteen diamond shaped pieces of silver lined the edge of the top of the box, with a single red gem embedded in the center. It was a very beautiful box, and Roman took note of its fine craftsmanship.

Roman cautiously opened the box, almost expecting another snake to jump out of it, but fortunately, it was empty. The inside of the box was bare except for the tiny snake scales that were scattered around the interior. He suppressed a shudder, then felt silly for being scared. The snake was dead, after all.

Logan stared at the box with wide eyes, adjusting his glasses. “You say it just appeared here? Has anyone tried moving it out of this room?”

Thorn nodded. “I was told that someone attempted to, but it would always appear here, no matter where they put it.”

“Do you think someone was moving it? Someone that was in the palace?” Logan asked. 

“If you’re suggesting that one of my SandWings is the assassin,” Thorn said. “It’s impossible. Every single SandWings is and has been accounted for. No one had the opportunity to fly across the continent without anyone noticing.”

“Maybe no one here is the assassin, but someone could be helping them. There could be multiple assassins, for all we know,” Logan said, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Thorn patted Logan on the shoulder. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Though I will keep a careful eye out for any traitors.”

Roman sighed. “So that’s it? We’ve hit a dead end?” the box was their only hope. If it didn’t lead anywhere…

“Actually, there is someone you can go talk to,” Thorn said. “I’m hesitant to tell you this, but there’s a dragon that lives on one of the islands in the Bay of a Thousand Scales. This dragon can see the future, like a NightWing, but he’s more likely to help you than Queen Voidwalker is. She hasn’t been very kind to visitors lately.”

Roman frowned. “So we’re looking for a NightWing?”

Thorn smiled. “Not exactly. You’ll see.” she headed out of the room. “I might have a map somewhere that leads to his exact location…”

Roman hesitated as she left the room. “How do you think she knows about this… seer?”

Logan shrugged. “She lived in the Scorpion Den for most of her life, remember? She most likely knows about many of Pyrrhia’s… special dragons.”

“Oh, right.” Roman replied. He vaguely remembered reading something about that in one of his classes he had as a dragonet.

As they followed Thorn down the hall, Roman wondered if they were headed toward another dead end.

.

“Do you recall what Thorn said? About the box moving on its own?”

“Hmm?” Roman replied. They had been flying over the desert for hours, and the rainforest was just within sight. He was so tired he felt like he could fall asleep up here in the air.

“What?” Frost shrieked from behind them. “A teleporting box? Why does no one tell me these things?”

Logan ignored her. “I don’t think a dragon was moving it.

Roman twisted around to look at him. “Then what do you think it is?”

Logan’s eyes were down, watching the ground pass by them as they flew over it. “I think… I think it might be animus magic.”

“Animus magic? Like from the stories?” Roman vividly recalled reading a scroll about the wonders and dangers of animus magic. It was said that animus dragons could do anything they wanted, the only boundaries being their imaginations. The price of such power, however, was their souls. With each spell they cast, a part of their soul would be lost. Eventually, their soul would deteriorate until they went insane.

 Roman had never liked those stories.

Logan nodded. “I know it sounds unreasonable, but it is a possibility that we cannot overlook.”

“So you think the assassin is an animus dragon?” Frost asked. It was only there for a second, but for a moment, Frost looked… terrified. The moment passed, however and the scowl was back on her face.

“It is the only explanation that makes sense,” Logan said, “How else could the assassin move across the continent without being spotted? How else could they kill without leaving a trace?”

No one had a reply to that. Roman tugged on the edge of his sash nervously, feeling sick. If he had to kill an animus, he might as well go back to the Sky Kingdom and face Queen Scarlet’s wrath. Then, at least his death would entertain someone.

But he knew Logan- and maybe even Frost- would keep searching, and though he wouldn’t admit it, he had grown fond of the strange RainWing, and he knew he would always feel a lingering guilt if anything happened to the snarky IceWing.

They flew on in silence, save for the occasional sigh or muttering. Just as Roman felt like he was about to drop out of the sky, Logan called for a rest. They had just made it to the edge of the rainforest, and the cool shade was a welcome change from the unbearable heat of the desert. The sun was about to set, washing everything in a purple and blue glow.

“I’ll take first watch,” Frost said as soon as they found a suitable clearing to sleep in. Trees and other foliage surrounded it, and a small lake occupied a corner. “I’m not that tired anyway.”

“Absolutely not,” Logan snapped. “I’ll take the first watch. Seeing as I am familiar with the rainforest already, I believe I am better suited to look out for potential dangers.”

Frost snorted. “That’s rich, especially because you’re not even-”

Logan shot her a death glare, effectively silencing her. Roman looked at both of them in confusion. “Not even what? Am I missing something?” he wasn’t sure what Frost was going to say, but judging by Logan’s reaction, it was probably offensive.

Logan looked at him in surprise, “You… mean you don’t know?”

He tilted his head. “Don’t know what?”

Frost stifled a snicker. “Well, isn’t this awkward.”

Logan growled at her, but returned his gaze to Roman’s. “I thought- I thought everybody knew.”

Roman looked at the ground, embarrassed. “Well, SkyWing dragonets-especially royalty-aren’t really taught anything about the other tribes. Everything I do know about the other tribes are from scrolls Remus used to sneak into our room.”

The RainWing looked up at him. “So...you don’t know that I am half IceWing?”

Roman gaped at him. “You- you’re a hybrid?”

“Well,” Logan said. “I never knew my parents, but since I cannot change the color of my scales and my venom is… icier than regular venom, I always assumed that I was half IceWing.”

“We were taught that Logan’s… existence was a mistake.” she narrowed her eyes at him. “That hybrids were a mistake.” 

Logan snarled. “Well, clearly they were wrong. I am an advisor to the queen and a respected member of her court.” his voice caught on the word ‘queen’. “I don’t think any mistake could accomplish that.”

Roman quickly changed the subject, sensing a fight was about to break out. “So you’re half IceWing? What else can you do?” In the stories he’d read, there weren’t many hybrids, so he was curious to see what they could do.

“Well, my ice venom and camouflage abilities seem to be the only things that were altered.” he glanced down at his body. “Although I have been told that I seem to radiate cold like SandWings radiate heat.”

Roman clasped his talons together. “Can you show us your ice venom?”

Logan gave him a sharp look. “Maybe later. For now, you need to rest. You barely slept last night.” 

He suddenly realized how weary he felt. He slumped to the ground, feeling his eyes start to close. “Alright, but… wake me for…”

He was asleep before he could finish his sentence.

   .

Roman woke up to cold water being dumped on his head.

His eyes snapped open. “Hey! Unnecessary!” he sat up, shaking out his soaked claws. “You got my sash wet!” he wailed, taking it off and wringing it out.

Frost rolled her eyes, shaking the water off her tail. “You’ll live.”

Roman grumbled, taking the tiny cloth he had brought with him out of his bag and started drying himself. “So where’s Logan?”

“He said he was going to go find us some food,” she said, sharpening her claws on a rock. “He’s been gone for most of the morning, actually.” she paused for a moment. “He seemed… angry.”

He looked up from his sash, surprised. “Logan left you alone? While I was sleeping?”

Frost kept her eyes on her rock. “I was surprised too. Guess he trusted me not to kill you in your sleep. Even after I was about to insult him about his heritage.” she barked out a humorless laugh. “I may have left the IceWings, but I still act like them.”

Roman set down his cloth, thinking. He wasn’t the best at solving these kinds of problems, but Logan had seemed upset when she made that comment. And Frost said that Logan seemed angry earlier.

“I’m sure that if you go apologize to Logan, everything will be fine,” he said, unsure if Logan would accept an apology.

Frost opened her mouth to reply, but just then, the bushes around the clearing trembled. Logan stumbled out of them, holding various fruits. He let them spill out of his arms and onto the ground, panting.

Roman widened his eyes. “Woah. That is a lot of fruit.”

“I apologize for taking so long. I haven’t gone fruit gathering in… a very long time.” Logan said, sitting down and readjusting his glasses.

Frost poked one of the fruits, looking like she was still contemplating their conversation. “Is this a papaya?” she asked.

Logan eyed her. “That one is actually a mango.”

Frost nodded and picked up a banana. She peeled it and took a bite, wrinkling her nose at the taste. Roman picked a talonful of clementines and started to peel them while Logan put the rest of the fruit in his bag, explaining that he had already eaten on the way back.

As they ate, Logan glanced up at the trees worriedly. “We should hurry,” he said. “I don’t think the RainWings will be hostile, but I would rather we not run into any.”

They finished their meal quickly and set out for the Bay of a Thousand Scales. They skirted around the RainWing village, lying low until they were far enough to fly away. Around midday, they found themselves on the coast, looking out to sea.

 Logan pulled out the map Thorn gave them, studying it closely. “So the seer is on this island,” Logan said, pointing to a spot marked with a black circle. It was close to the Mud Kingdom, but there were still hundreds of islands to search.

“How are we supposed to find one island among all the other ones?” Frost complained. “It’s called the Bay of a Thousand Scales for a reason.”

Logan waved his talon for silence. “Don’t worry everyone.” he pointed at the seer’s island. “Do you see that strange looking rock? We can use that as a landmark.”

Frost still looked doubtful. “A rock that is very easy to miss.”

“Well, it is the only thing we have to go on,” Logan said stiffly, rolling up the map and stuffing it back into Roman’s bag. He took off into the sky, lashing his tail.

Frost looked at him with an unreadable expression before lifting off the ground, leaving Roman alone.

He sighed, hanging his bag around his neck. He made sure that it was secure before joining his companions in the air. 

They flew for a few hours, searching each island from the sky carefully. Logan had his eyes fixed on the map, almost flying straight into trees and birds on several occasions. Roman had started the search with hope, sure that they would find the island in no time. But as time went on and the sun crawled closer to the horizon, he grew weary. They had searched what felt like hundreds of islands and they still hadn’t found the seer.

Just as Roman was about to give up hope, Frost yelped in surprise and pointed at one of the islands below. A rock stood on the island, identical to the one on the map. Down on the sand, a hooded figure sat and stared up at them. He was standing in front of a small wooden house. It was too dark to see what tribe the mysterious dragon was from, but there was no doubt in Roman’s mind that they were the seer.

The trio touched down on the sand, the water lapping at their talons. They climbed up the hill toward the seer, stumbling and getting sand between their claws. After almost falling flat on his face for the third time, Roman vowed that he wouldn’t step into any place with sand ever again.

“Sand isn’t that bad,” the seer said suddenly. “You get used to it after a while.”

Roman stepped in front of him, blinking. It was as if this dragon had read his mind, but that couldn’t be right. Thorn hadn’t mentioned-

“Looks like someone gave you incomplete information,” the seer interrupted. “Yes, I can read minds.” Of course he’s a mind reader, Roman thought. Figures. The seer put his hood down, interrupting Roman’s train of thought.

His scales were black at first glance, but as Roman looked closer, he could see purple scales under his eyes and going down his neck. They glowed faintly in the dark. Huge webs not unlike a SeaWing’s started near his horns and ran down his back, where they disappeared under his hoodie. Spider webs were tattooed on the membrane of his wings, though they were hard to see under the moonlight.

Frost and Logan stepped up beside him, eyeing the seer warily. Frost took one look at him and growled, “Thorn led us to a mindreader? You really can’t trust a SandWing.”

The seer gave her an unfriendly stare. “You might want to tone down the aggression there, Frosty.” he growled. “You’re already standing on thin ice.”

“You look like you were expecting us,” Roman said. “Did you have a vision?”

The seer chuckled. “No, you were flying around for most of the day. You can’t really miss golden wings that obnoxious.”

“Hey!” Roman squawked, glancing at his wings. Even in the dark, they glowed. “My wings are not obnoxious!”

The seer quirked a brow. “Riiight. Anyway, what’s your name?”

“I’m Roman,” he offered. “What’s your name? What tribe are you from?”

The seer turned his gaze back to Roman. He tilted his head, as if listening to something. He smirked at Roman’s confused expression.

“Virgil,” the seer said at last. “My name is Virgil. And well, I’m sure you can guess what tribe I’m from.”

Roman stared at him. “You look like a NightWing, but those webs…” he gasped. “Are you half SeaWing?”

Virgil nodded, smirking. “You got it faster than I thought you would. Good for you.”

“Virgil,” Logan interrupted, as Roman huffed indignantly. “We’re here to-”

Virgil held up a talon. “I know why you’re here, and the answer is no. I have not had any visions, and no, I am not going with you.”

Roman shook his head, looking at him in dismay. “But we haven’t even told you what we’re here for! Just let us explain!” No! He’s our only hope!

“You don’t need to. You forget you’re talking to a mindreader.” Virgil looked at him sympathetically. “You can stay for the night, but you should go in the morning. I don’t want to get caught up in this.”

Roman dug his claws into the ground, ripping up a plant from its roots. “So that’s it?” he roared suddenly, causing Frost to flinch and shrink away from him. “We came all this way to see you, and you won’t even let us explain? Won’t even try?”

“Oh, I’m sorry that I’m not willing to put my life on the line to catch some stupid assassin!” Virgil shouted back, surprising him. Virgil turned to the small wooden house, taking deep breaths. 

Logan cleared his throat. “How about we sort this out in the morning?” he asked hesitantly. “We’re all tired, and perhaps a good night’s rest will be beneficial.”

Virgil nodded, his back still turned to them. “All right,” he said softly. “Once you enter the house, go in the room on the left. That’s where you’ll be sleeping for the night.”

Virgil went around to the back of the hut without another word.

The three were silent for a moment.

“I think you made him mad,” Frost commented, breaking the silence.

“Oh, really? Thank you for telling me, Frost, I wouldn’t have noticed.” Roman yelled, still fuming. Frost stepped back and hissed. It didn’t occur to him until much later that she had looked angry, but also… fearful.

“Let’s just go and get some rest,” Logan interjected, leading them into the house. “It has been a very long day.”

The room they had been given was small, with two pieces of cloth on the floor to sleep on. “We have to sleep on these?” Roman hissed.

“I’m sorry they aren’t up to your standards, Your Highness.” Frost spat from the other side of the room. “Do you want me to go find you some polar bear fur to sleep on? Perhaps some sheeps’ wool? Or maybe you’d prefer eagle feathers?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Roman shot back.

“Enough,” Logan ordered, stepping between the fighting dragons. “Stop it, you two. You can work it out in the morning, just let me sleep for Moons’ sake.”

Frost snarled at him one last time before curling up on the floor, her back turned to him. Roman glared and laid on the piece of cloth, trying to a comfortable position. The room could fit two dragons comfortably, but with three, it was cramped. After much shuffling around, Roman settled on laying on his side with Logan’s tail poking his back. The cold radiating off of Frost’s scales made him shiver.

Maybe we can convince Virgil in the morning, He thought hopefully, but he doubted it. He had seemed pretty adamant in his decision. 

Roman wondered what he would do if he couldn’t convince Virgil to come with them. Look for Remus, he thought, determined. Brother, please be alive. I still need to find you.

Please. 

.

Virgil didn’t usually get angry. That night had been an exception. 

He opened the back door, stepped inside, then closed it quietly. A pair of blue eyes greeted him.

“Are you okay?” Patton asked. “I heard shouting outside.”

Virgil avoided his gaze. “Yeah, I’m fine. They’re sleeping in the other room, but they’ll be gone in the morning.”

Patton fiddled with his tiny bag and fluttered his wings nervously. “The one you were talking to sounded desperate.”

Virgil began to take his hoodie off, careful not to tear it. “He was desperate,” he said, moving over to the spot on the floor where he slept. “But it’s not my problem.”

Patton nodded hesitantly from his spot on the bed. “I just… wish we could do more to help.” he pulled a small rock out from his bag and began to fiddle with it. 

Virgil turned his back to the bed so Patton couldn’t see his expression.

I do too.  

  .

Virgil woke up feeling more anxious than usual. He could hear both mental and verbal voices from the other side of the house. Patton sat up and yawned, feeling around for his glasses. Virgil got up and handed them to him, already moving across the room to put his hoodie on.

Patton hummed as he got up to leave the room. “Do you mind if I go whip something up for our guests?” he asked, pausing in the doorway. “I think we have some fruit left over from that RainWing market.”

“Yeah, sure,” Virgil said, “But aren’t they going to notice that you’re… different?”

“What, that I look nothing like any tribe that lives on this continent?” he smiled, brandishing his butterfly-like wings. “I think I’ll be fine.”

As Virgil got ready, he listened to the conversation outside his room.

“Does that dragon have four wings or am I just sleep deprived?” that was the IceWing speaking.

“Frost, you got plenty of sleep last night,” said the RainWing (Or IceWing? Virgil wasn’t sure. His mind was confusing)

“Oh shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I do have four wings. I’m a SilkWing!” Patton interjected. “I’m from the other continent, across the ocean.”

Virgil winced as the RainWing’s brain was suddenly filled with questions. Another continent? Across the ocean? SilkWing?

“How did you get here?” asked the RainWing.

“Oh, I came here on a boat and shipwrecked on this island,” Patton replied sadly. “Virgil found me and gave me shelter while I recovered.”

Frost sighed. “Royal assassins, teleporting boxes, and now a dragon from another continent?” he heard the spikes on her back clatter. “Sure, why not?”

“But… why did you come here?” the RainWing asked.

He could hear Patton’s voice drop. “Well, on my continent, SilkWings aren’t treated fairly. My sister eventually convinced me to find this continent and get help, but… now I have no way to go back.”

An awkward silence followed soon after.

Virgil decided to announce himself before things got even more awkward. All eyes turned to him as he stepped into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Virgil!” Patton greeted cheerfully.

“Good morning,” the RainWing said, dipping his head. “I don’t think I introduced myself last night. My name is Logan.”

Logan elbowed the IceWing in the side. “Ow!” she yelped, jumping away from him. “What was that for?”

You are seriously asking to get bitten, she thought angrily.

“Introduce yourself!” Logan hissed in what he probably thought was a quiet voice.

“Fine, fine,” she said, turning to Virgil. “My name’s Frost. Happy?” she hissed the last word to Logan.

Virgil nodded to both of them uncertainly before turning to Patton, who was peeling various fruits and setting them into wooden bowls. “How much food is left?”

Patton finished with the fruit and turned to wash his talons in a bucket of water. “This is the last of it. We’ll have to go to the market soon.” he jerked his head toward the table where Logan and Frost stood awkwardly. “I’m just getting finished here. Why don’t you join the others?”

Virgil sighed and went to wait by the table. He took a seat and gestured for the others to do the same.

“Soooo,” Frost said casually as she sat in the chair opposite Virgil. “You know about the assassin?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Of course I have. I don’t live under a rock.”

Right, of course. He’s a seer... And a mindreader, Frost glanced at him distrustfully. He smirked in response.

“Anyway,” he said, changing the subject. “Where’s your prince friend?”

“I’m right here.”

Roman was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. He barely spared Virgil a glance before sitting next to Logan.

Virgil frowned. The night before, Roman’s mind was just like any others: laid out in front of him and easy to read. Maybe not as easy to read as Logan’s or Frost’s, but not too difficult either. Now, it was all muddled and… blocked off. Just like mother’s was. He quickly pushed the thought away.

“Breakfast is ready!” Patton sang, interrupting his train of thought. A bowl of fruit was dropped in front of each dragon.

Roman blinked at the SilkWing. “Who are you? Are you some sort of hybrid?”

“I’m Patton!” Patton replied. “And no, I’m not a hybrid, exactly…”

Virgil shifted his focus to Roman as Patton started to explain where he came from. His expression was tired, and his shoulders were tense.

Roman caught him staring and Virgil looked away quickly.

“So, what’re you planning to do now?” Patton asked as they ate.

Evidently, this was the wrong question to ask. Frost choked on her fruit and tried to cover it up with a cough. Logan looked to Roman with a raised brow. Virgil didn’t need to read his mind to know he was thinking Yeah, what are we going to do?

Roman looked trapped, and Virgil was surprised to see that he sympathized with him. He looked down at his food and avoided the gaze of everyone at the table.

“We’ll figure something out,” was Roman’s reply. Patton widened his eyes as if just realizing his mistake, but said nothing.

The table was silent for a long, awkward moment.

“So,” Frost mused, nodding at Patton. “What’s that rock for?”

“Oh, this?” Patton held up the small black rock he’d been fiddling with. “It’s…”

He looked to Virgil, uncertain. He hesitated, then nodded.

“It’s called skyfire,” Patton continued. “And it can block mind reading.”

Frost almost choked on her food again. She coughed and asked, “You didn’t think to mention this earlier?”

“It won’t matter,” Virgil said. “You won’t be around mindreaders for a while.” 

He pretended not to notice Roman’s talons curling into fists.

Logan leaned forward. “Hypothetically, if someone wanted to obtain some of this skyfire, where would they find it?”

“Well, if they were to, hypothetically, ask me,” Virgil replied. “They wouldn’t get an answer.”

The clouds around Roman’s mind cleared enough for Virgil to hear, He literally couldn’t get any more annoying.

“Careful, Princey,” Virgil said, smirking. “I don’t think you want me as an enemy.”

Roman clenched his fists but said nothing. They finished the meal in silence.

A few minutes later, Virgil and Patton were standing on the sand to see Roman, Logan, and Frost off.

“Thank you for letting us stay the night,” Logan said gratefully, dipping his head.

Virgil nodded back. “It was really no problem, but,” he added in a hushed tone, “I’m… sorry that I couldn’t help more, it’s just-”

“It’s fine, we understand.” Logan glanced at Roman. “Well, most of us do, anyway.”

As Logan went to join the others, Virgil turned to walk back into the house. Before he could, however, he felt a tug on his hoodie sleeve and the unmistakable sound of tearing fabric.

“Hey! You tore my hoodie!” Virgil yelped, glaring at the dragon who tore it, which turned out to be Roman.

Roman widened his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to ask-”

Virgil shoved Roman away, but he suddenly felt dizzy. He stumbled, and Roman caught him.

“Woah, are you alright?” he turned around to yell something, but Virgil could barely hear him as images started to flood his brain.

The five of them, trapped in a snowstorm.

The Queen of the IceWings laying dead in the Ice Palace, blue blood trickling from multiple cuts on her throat.

Virgil turning a corner to see a wingless SandWing holding out a talon to him. He pulled something out of his cloak, and upon further inspection, he realized it was an earring shaped like a rose.

And, probably the worst of them, Patton laying dead on the ground, a pool of blood slowly growing around his head.

“-gil? Virgil, are you okay?”

Virgil was crouching down, talons clutching his head. Patton was gripping his shoulders and shaking him gently. “Was that- did you just have a vision?”

He struggled to push the images out of his mind. He focused on pulling himself up on his talons, digging his claws into the sand to keep from swaying. He stared at Patton, almost expecting to see him covered in blood. He shook his head and turned to Roman.

“Looks like you’re getting what you want,” he said in a low voice, moving to stand in front of Roman. “I’m coming with you.”

.

“Virgil, I think I got everything packed!” Patton called, poking his head through the doorway.

Virgil almost dropped the skyfire he was packing for the others. “I never said you were coming with us.”

Patton frowned, entering the room fully. “But… I want to come.”

He shook his head. “No, Patton. I don’t want you risking your life coming with me.”

Patton’s frown deepened. “So you want me to stay here? Alone?”

“Yes,” Virgil said firmly. “You’ll be safer here.”

Patton crossed his arms. “Virgil, what happened in your vision? Did you see something that made you want to keep me here?”

Your dead body was laid out in front of me and I could do nothing about it, and I don’t want to do that, not again, he thought. He continued putting pieces of skyfire in tiny leather bags instead of replying.

Patton brushed his wing with Virgil’s. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. But,” he added. “I still want to go with you. That way you could keep an eye on me, right? And… maybe I could find a way home.”

Virgil finally met the SilkWing’s eyes and saw that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He sighed in defeat. “Fine. You can come.”

“Yay!” Patton cheered, throwing his arms around him. “Thanks, Virgil!”

“Yeah, whatever.” he said, pulling away quickly. “I knew you would find a way to come anyway.”

Patton smiled mischievously. “I would have!”

As Patton left and Virgil finished packing, he hoped he didn’t just make a terrible decision.

.

“Roman, are you sure about this?” Frost asked, shielding herself from the sun with her wings. “Because I’m pretty sure Virgil hates you.”

“I’m not sure that we have a choice,” Roman muttered.

“Perhaps you should not have yelled at him last night,” Logan commented. He was barely focusing on the conversation, instead looking out to sea and frowning.

“Yeah, maybe,” Frost muttered bitterly.

Roman blinked at her in confusion before realizing what she meant. He widened his eyes. “Oh! Frost, I am so sorry for yelling at you last night. Please forgive me.” he bowed his head, looking up at her.

Frost looked at him in surprise for a moment before breaking into a smile and punching him in the shoulder.

“Ouch!” he yelped, rubbing the spot where she hit him. “What was that for?”

“There, now we’re even. But,” the smile fell. “I’m sorry for yelling too.” she glanced at him. “And you’re forgiven, I guess.”

Roman grinned and wrapped his arms and wings around Frost. “Thank you! I forgive you too!”

“Ugh, okay, that’s enough.” she wriggled out of the hug. 

“Speaking of apologies.” Frost turned to Logan, who narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry for insulting you that night in the rainforest. It- it won’t happen again. I promise.”

Logan regarded her for a moment before nodding slowly. “Thank you, Frost. That… means a lot.” he looked at his talons. “And… I’m sorry for not trusting you.”

Frost waved a talon dismissively. “It’s fine. I would have done the same thing.”

“If all of you are done,” Virgil called from behind them as he walked out of the house. “We’re ready to leave.”

He produced two small leather bags and handed them to Logan and Frost. “Skyfire,” Virgil explained. “If we’re going to be travelling together, I don’t want to hear your yapping the entire time.” he turned to Roman and shoved a piece of skyfire into the bag that hung around his neck.

“So, where are we headed to now?” Frost asked, securing the bag around her wrist.

“The Ice Kingdom,” Virgil replied. 

Frost tensed and let out a string of curses that made Patton wince. “I just escaped that hell and you want me to go back?” she demanded.

Virgil stepped back, holding up his talons. “Hey, I’m just the seer.”

Logan rested a claw on Frost’s shoulder for a brief moment. “We’ll need a guide if we want to survive, and I promise we’ll be quick. Please, Frost.”

After much grumbling, shouting, and reassuring, they finally managed to calm Frost down and start to fly west toward the Ice Kingdom. 

“Hey, Roman?” Frost asked tentatively.

Roman turned to face her, frowning. She had been silent the entire time, and he wondered why she sounded so nervous. “Yes? What do you need?”

“Don’t you think Virgil’s kind of… strange?” she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Like, yesterday he really didn’t want to come with us, but today he suddenly changed his mind? What makes me more suspicious is that he won’t tell anyone what was in his visions. Not even Patton.”

“What, you asked him?”

Frost winced. “Yeah. He didn’t seem to appreciate the question very much.”

“Well, he’s our only option.” Roman sighed. “Believe me, I would rather beg Queen Voidwalker for help then this.”

Frost nodded hesitantly. “I’ll be keeping an eye on him, then.”

I am curious about him, Roman thought, staring at Virgil. How has he lived there for so long without Queen Coral knowing? Why is he suddenly so eager to help?

After a little while of flying, they entered the Mud Kingdom. “We should stop and rest for a bit,” Frost called, pointing to the swamps below. “We won’t get many places to stop before we reach the Sky Kingdom.”

The Sky Kingdom. Roman’s eyes were fixed on the distant mountains as they landed among the low trees. I’m going back to the Sky Kingdom, even if I’m just passing through. Why am I so nervous?

“Feeling homesick, Princey?” Virgil said, making him jump.

Roman squinted at the distant peaks and didn’t answer. Did he miss his home? He wanted to say yes, that he longed for the grand halls and the vast rooms of the Sky Palace, that his heart ached to be among his tribe, but… he didn’t. He didn’t want to know what that meant.

“Hey Roman, you got any food?” Frost called from the other side of the clearing, interrupting his train of thought.

Roman checked his bag and pulled out some fruit. “Just some clementines, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t you mean clawmentines, Roman?” Patton giggled at his own joke.

Roman chuckled at the pun as Frost groaned. He also didn’t miss how Virgil stifled a snort.

“If I am correct, which I am,” Logan interrupted, pulling the map out of Roman’s bag, “We should be at the Diamond Spray Delta.”

Roman leaned over the map. “So we follow the Diamond Spray River until we reach the mountains?”

“That’s right.” Logan nodded at him. “And from there, Roman can guide us through SkyWing territory.”

Roman tugged at his sash. “We’ll have to be careful.”

“Why?” Patton asked. “Aren’t you a Prince there? Isn’t this your kingdom?”

“It’s… complicated,” he replied. “All you need to know is that Queen Scarlet tasked me with finding the assassin, and to not come back until they were dead.” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I don’t think we want to find out what happens if we get caught.” At Patton’s expression, he quickly added. “But you all are under my protection! I will not let any harm come to you during this journey!”

Frost leaned over to whisper to Logan, “How long do you think that statement can hold up? A sunrise?”

Virgil snickered. “Good one, Frosty!”

The IceWing narrowed her eyes. “Don’t call me Frosty.”

Roman huffed indignantly. “I’ll have you know that I have been training to fight for practically my entire life!”

“So have I!” Frost exclaimed, turning to Roman. “You’re not special!”

Everyone started to laugh at that. Roman managed to keep the pout on his face for a few moments before breaking into a laugh as well.

After everyone had rested, they continued to follow the Diamond Spray river. By nightfall, they had reached the base of the mountains. A valley was laid out in front of them, surrounded by the peaks. In the distance, the Sky Palace glowed with the light of hundreds of torches. He wondered what Queen Scarlet was doing. He hoped she wasn’t angry. He hoped Ruby was okay.

“We should head west in the morning,” Roman said, pointing in a direction opposite the Sky Palace. “And then north, I think.”

“You think?” Virgil said skeptically. “So glad our guide has so much confidence.”

“Oh, would you like to try to guide us through SkyWing territory?” Roman snapped. “If so, be my guest.”

Virgil widened his eyes apologetically, but Roman was already turning away. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry, but he suspected it had something to do with being so close to the Sky Palace. And Queen Scarlet. He shuddered.

“So,” Virgil said casually, attempting to break the tension. “Why did Queen Scarlet choose you specifically to find the assassin?”

Roman took a deep breath as he thought about what to say. Finally, he decided on, “My guess? Queen Scarlet wants me out of the way. Maybe I offended her. Or bored her.” he could feel anger rising in his chest, and he quickly stamped it down. 

“Really?” Virgil sounded shocked. “I knew Queen Scarlet was bad, but… she would really do that? To her own son?”

He felt the anger grow until it spilled over and he snapped. “My mother has killed eleven of my sisters, Virgil. What makes you think she has any love for her sons?”

Patton reached to him. “Roman-”

“I’m going to go find some kindling for the fire,” he announced, cutting Patton off. “I won’t be long.”

He could feel the others’ gaze on him as he flew into the dark forest. “You screwed up,” he heard Frost say. He didn’t hear Virgil’s reply.

Roman spent the next hour angrily ripping branches off of trees and dumping them in a pile to collect later. He attempted to rip a twig off of a tree but got slapped in the face. He growled and set the tree on fire, watching it burn for a moment before stomping back to the pile of branches.

I didn’t know she was that bad. Virgil’s words echoed in his mind. The fact that anyone could think Queen Scarlet had an ounce of mercy in her body made him want to set the entire forest on fire. He squeezed his eyes shut and dug his claws into the ground. He tried to calm himself down. 

It wasn’t his fault. He thought to himself. He couldn’t have possibly known. I shouldn’t have snapped at him.

Maybe apologizing to Virgil for snapping would make him feel better. He nodded to himself. Yes, that was what he was going to do.

Roman scooped up the wood in his arms and set out to find the camp. By the time he found the others, everyone was asleep except for Virgil. He tossed the branches into the middle of the clearing and breathed fire onto the pile, watching them burn.

The two of them stood on opposite sides of the fire awkwardly.

Virgil sighed. “I’m really sorry for what happened earlier. I should have known that my question was treading on sensitive territory.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “So, um, sorry.”

Roman blinked at him, caught off guard. He didn’t expect Virgil to be the one apologizing. “Oh, um, thank you for the apology.” he looked down at his claws. “I’m sorry too. For yelling at you.”

Virgil nodded, acknowledging the apology. He fiddled with the strings of his hoodie nervously. “So, are we...cool?”

Roman smiled. He realized he enjoyed Virgil’s presence a lot more when they weren’t fighting. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

They fell into a silence again, though not as awkward this time. The fire crackled warmly, and Roman felt relaxed for the first time in days.

“What did you want to ask me?” Virgil asked suddenly.

“Sorry?”

“That day on the island, when you were about to leave,” he explained. “When you tore my hoodie.”

Roman winced. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Virgil waved a talon. “It’s fine, I can fix it. What I want to know is what you wanted to ask me.”

Roman thought about it for a moment before suddenly remembering. He braced himself before speaking. “I wanted to ask if you’ve seen my brother in any of your visions.” his heart was hammering in his chest and his talons were clenched into fists,, as if he suddenly realized that he might not want to know the answer.

Virgil shook his head. “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen him.”

Roman’s claws dug into his palm. He was dimly aware of the way his breathing turned shallow and the way his eyes burned with unshed tears. No. No, he couldn’t be…

Then, without warning, Virgil was beside him, coaching him through a breathing exercise. “In for four… hold it for seven, then out for eight. That’s it, Princey.”

It took a few tries, but eventually, Roman calmed down. Virgil moved away, coughing awkwardly, but stayed within arm’s reach. He was silent for a moment. “You know,” he began, “My seer powers aren’t the strongest. Even if I didn’t see your brother, he could still be alive.”

Roman rubbed his eyes. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Virgil gave him a small smile, a far cry from the scowl he usually wore. Roman suddenly wanted nothing more than for Virgil to keep smiling at him.

“Thank you,” Roman said, taking a deep breath. “I… really needed that.”

“No problem, Princey,” Virgil replied. “Just don’t make a habit out of it.”

The prince chuckled. “I’ll try my best.”

They sat in comfortable silence until he felt his eyelids grow heavy. He yawned, and Virgil nodded to the spot where the others were sleeping. “You should get some rest. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

Roman was too tired to protest. He laid his head on his talons and closed his eyes.

“Or you could just fall asleep there. That works too.” Virgil’s soothing voice was the last thing he heard before he sank into the depths of sleep.

.

The next morning, Roman was awoken by roars of anger.

He stood up, immediately dropping into a battle stance. Three SkyWing soldiers stood in front of him, growling. He blinked in surprise. How have they found us already? We should have gone through a different route!

 Beside him, Frost hissed, clouds of frost seeping out of her mouth. On his other side, Virgil rolled up his sleeves, ready to attack.

Behind them, Logan was trying to discreetly hide Patton in the trees. The soldiers haven’t noticed them yet, but it was only a matter of time. He spread his wings to hide them and snarled, hoping he looked intimidating.

“Prince Roman, how dare you show your face here?” the orange SkyWing in front said, lashing his tail.

“We’re just passing through,” he replied, still not entirely sure what was happening. How had they been found so quickly?

“Your orders were specifically to not come back until you’ve killed the assassin.” he growled back. “Well? Are they dead?”

“N-no, but-”

“Then soldiers, attack!” the SkyWing suddenly roared.

One of the soldiers leaped onto Virgil and they rolled away, clawing and biting at each other. Roman turned to help, but another SkyWing stood in his path, grinning maliciously. He growled and swiped a claw at her, but she dodged and suddenly barreled into him. He collapsed on his side, winded. He quickly rolled out of the way as she brought her spear down. It stuck into the ground where his head was a moment before.

Hissing, Roman got to his feet. He felt his chest warm up before a burst of fire shot out of his mouth. The SkyWing fell face first into it and she flew away, screaming. He watched as she shakily flew away, feeling absolutely awful.

He turned to Frost, intending to help her, but it turned out she didn’t need it. Her attacks were sure and quick, enough to rival Remus. She clawed the SkyWing’s cheek and whirled around, smashing them in the face with her spiked tail. The SkyWing fell to the ground, unconscious. 

He whipped his head around as he heard Virgil cry out, but relaxed when he saw he wasn’t in any danger. Virgil had climbed onto his opponents back and had dug his claws into their scales. The SkyWing finally threw him onto the ground and took off without looking back.

“Is everyone alright?” Roman asked.

“Everything’s good over here,” Virgil called.

“Same here,” Frost added. She glanced down at the unconscious SkyWing. “He’s just knocked out, don’t worry.”

He nodded and turned to the forest, where Logan was helping Patton out of a tree. “Are you two okay?”

Logan nodded as they made their way to them. “We’re fine. We should leave before more SkyWings arrive.”

Roman glanced at the sky. He could hardly believe the SkyWings had found them this quickly. “Yeah,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Let’s go.”

.

A few minutes later, Roman, Patton, Logan, Virgil, and Frost made their way into the valley.

They flew close to the ground so they would be harder to spot from the sky. Roman longed to fly among the clouds, to spread his wings as far as they could go and ride the air currents to his heart’s content, but the risk of being caught was too great. He settled for gazing longingly at the distant red and orange silhouettes that drifted lazily across the sky.

They took frequent breaks, to Roman’s dismay. After their fifth stop before midday, Roman grew frustrated.

“Three moons!” he exclaimed as they rested under some trees. “You all are as slow as snails! I could have made it to the Ice Kingdom and back by now!”

“You know why we have to move slowly, Roman,” Logan said. “We have to fly low, or we’ll be caught. And well, none of us are as fast as you.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Sorry we can’t keep up with a SkyWing.”

Roman glanced at him curiously, then quickly looked away when he was caught staring. Virgil had barely talked to him since the night before. He wondered what that meant, or if it even meant anything at all.

“Roman does have a point, though,” Frost commented. “At the rate we’re going, the assassin will be long gone by the time we reach the Great Ice Cliff.”

“Well, what can we do?” Logan asked. “My wings aren’t designed to fly long distances.”

“And I’m not used to this much flying. I’ve lived on an island my entire life.” Virgil added.

“Maybe… maybe someone could carry you?” Patton proposed, sounding hesitant.

They all glanced at each other, then back to Patton.

“It could work,” Logan said slowly.

“I guess I could carry one of you,” Frost agreed reluctantly. “I call dibs on Logan.”

Everyone stared at her, wide-eyed. “What?” she said. “He looks like he doesn’t weigh much.”

“Then that leaves me with Virgil. Or Patton?” Roman said.

Patton chuckled. “No, I don’t think I need to be carried. I can take Virgil if you don’t want to, Roman.”

“No, I can do it,” he said with obvious reluctance. “I just want to get to the Ice Kingdom fast.”

“Virgil?” Logan prompted. 

Virgil’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at Roman. “Whatever gets us there the fastest,” he said at last.

And that was how Roman found himself flying toward the Ice Kingdom with Virgil on his back, arms wrapped around his neck.

“I suddenly regret my decision now,” Virgil said in his ear. “Why are we going to fast?” the arms around his neck tightened as Roman put on a burst of speed.

Roman twisted his neck around to look at him and grinned. “You could go with Frost and I can take Logan if you want.”

“So I can be poked by spikes and be freezing to my bones the entire time?” Virgil started to shake his head, but suddenly widened his eyes. “Tree!”

Roman whipped his head around to see that he was indeed about to fly straight into a tree. He stopped right before he hit the trunk, flapping his wings furiously. He hovered in place for a moment, realizing that Virgil had his face in his shoulder and was shaking.

“Virgil? Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Fine!” Virgil yelled in his ear. “I’m fine!”

“What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?” Frost asked from behind them. Patton flew in after her, looking confused.

“Princey almost flew into a tree,” Virgil stated matter-of-factly. His voice shook slightly.

Roman hid his face in his talons. “Only because this emo distracted me!”

“Emo?” Virgil poked his neck hard.

“Ow!”

Patton sighed, adjusting his circular glasses. “If you two won’t get along, then Virgil and Logan can switch places.”

“No!” Virgil and Roman said at the same time. They glanced at each other and burst out laughing.

Logan narrowed his eyes at them. “I’m not sure if I should be offended.”

Frost sighed impatiently. “Alright chatting with all of you was nice can we go now?”

“You were so hesitant to go to the Ice Kingdom before,” Logan observed. “Why are you now so eager to get there?”

Frost clenched her fists. “I just want to get this over with.”

Roman nodded. “Then let’s go.”

.

They flew for the rest of the day before they stopped in a field at the edge of the Sky Kingdom. Roman felt Virgil rest his head against his neck as they descended. 

Roman nudged him with his wing. “You can get off now.” he twisted his neck around and narrowed his eyes at Virgil. “How are you tired?”

Virgil yawned and slid to the ground, stumbling a little until he found his footing. “Well, I’m awake now.”

Roman’s eyes were on the sky, watching Frost, Logan and Patton dive toward them. “Looks like we made it first.”

Frost touched down on the ground, followed by Patton. She dumped Logan unceremoniously onto the ground and sat down, rubbing her shoulders. Logan grunted and sat up, adjusting his glasses.

Logan glanced up at the sky uneasily. “I don’t like it here. We’re too exposed out in a field like this.”

Roman narrowed his eyes at the night sky. Only one moon was full, the other two crescents thin as claws. It was impossible to see if anyone had followed them, even with the light of the moons.

Frost shook out her wings. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.” she glanced at Roman. “In the meantime, do you have any food? I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday and it feels like my stomach is going to eat itself.”

Roman dug around in his bag and shook his head. “We finished it all yesterday.”

Virgil sighed. “Well, that settles it. I’m going to go find some food. Roman, you wanna come with?”

“Huh? Why me?” Roman asked, confused. He became even more confused when Virgil started laughing.

“Well, how am I supposed to defend myself, Mr. I Won’t Let Any Harm Come To You?” he replied, smirking. Seeing Roman’s startled and embarrassed expression, he laughed. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

Roman blinked at him. 

Patton glanced between them. “Wait, I’m sure Roman is exhausted-”

“No, I want to go,” Roman said, surprising himself. Sure he was tired, but they needed food, right? One glance at Virgil told him there was more to that, however.

Patton nodded hesitantly. “Just be careful, okay?”

Roman grinned. “We’ll be back before you know it!”

The two of them picked a direction and walked, not wanting to draw attention to themselves by flying.

“I still think those golden wings are obnoxious,” Virgil said as they walked, glancing at his wings.

Roman huffed. “You’re just jealous that your wings aren’t as glorious as mine.”

“At least mine aren’t obnoxious.”

They continued to bicker and joke as they searched for food for about an hour. The only thing Roman caught was a rabbit, and after a while they decided to head back to the others.

As they walked back, Roman grew more and more exhausted. His talons felt as heavy as rocks and his head hung low. He tried not to let it show. One glance at Virgil told him that he wasn’t doing much better.

The sound of shouting coming from the direction of their camp was enough to wake him up, however.

He ran toward the noise without waiting for Virgil. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw flashes of red and orange scales. SkyWings.

“What? What is it?” Virgil whispered.

“SkyWing soldiers,” he replied. He felt more terrified than he had in his life as the SkyWings surrounded the others.

“Who are you?” one of the SKyWings shouted. “What business do you have on SkyWing territory?”

Frost growled, but Logan silenced her. “We’re just passing through. We mean no harm.” 

“Queen Ruby will be the judge of that.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Queen Ruby? What happened to Queen Scarlet?”

“Don’t play dumb, Queen Scarlet was killed by the assassin,” the red SkyWing said. “Now, I’m going to ask again. What are you doing on SkyWing territory?”

Roman gasped and brought a talon to his mouth. Queen Scarlet… dead? He didn’t feel any sorrow, just shock. How did the assassin manage to kill Queen Scarlet?

Frost growled. “We’re not going anywhere with you.”

The red SkyWing glanced at the other soldiers and nodded slightly. The four other SkyWings fanned out, surrounding Frost, Logan, and Patton in moments.

He heard Frost growl, and before he could blink, she leaped at the nearest SkyWing. Two more SkyWings piled on top of her, and when Logan and Patton moved to help, the other two soldiers jabbed their spears at them.

That snapped him out of his shock. He moved forward, but a tug on his arm forced him to stop.

“Roman, no!” Virgil hissed. “I want to help them as much as you do, but if they see you, you get caught, and this entire mission would be for nothing!”

“But they’re in trouble!” Roman hissed desperately. He glanced back at them. Frost was still pinned down by the three SkyWings, and Logan was struggling to hold the other two off. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

Virgil growled in frustration. “Roman, think. You stand no chance against five SkyWings, even with Frost’s help. The rest of us won’t be much help.”

Roman snarled. “I don’t care.” he shook Virgil off and continued forward.

He was suddenly tackled to the ground, face buried in the dirt. He shook his head free of the grit and glanced up at his attacker, who turned out to be Virgil. Virgil spread his wings to cover Roman’s body, eyes on the fight.

He grunted loudly in protest, but Virgil quickly shushed him. He sighed in frustration. From where he was (Quite rudely) shoved into the ground, he couldn’t see anything that was happening. Virgil perching on his back and pushing his head down whenever he tried to see didn’t help.

Virgil suddenly ducked low. Roman could hear his heartbeat quicken.

“What’s going on?” he whispered. “I can’t see anything!” he heard Frost let out a cry of pain and he tensed up. “What was that? Is Frost hurt?”

“T-they started to attack her,” Virgil stammered. “Three of them.”

Roman craned his neck to see, but Virgil pushed him down. He growled in frustration. “Let me help!”

Virgil looked down at him. “If they see you, they’ll take you away, and I don’t want that to happen.” he sounded sincere, which surprised him. Did Virgil genuinely care about what would happen to him?

Roman shook his head. “If I don’t go, Frost will die!” Virgil shushed him, putting a talon on his snout.

Virgil peeked at the fight again. He wasn’t sure what was going on, and it was frustrating. He was about to ask about what was happening again when a scream stopped him.

The scream went on for far longer than he could bear. What kind of pain could cause that?

He heard wingbeats and he looked up. The SkyWings were flying away. What happened? Who screamed?

After a while, Virgil let him up, coughing uncomfortably. “S-sorry about that.”

Roman’s legs still felt shaky. “I- it’s alright. What happened?”

Virgil looked scared, more scared than he had ever seen him. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he stepped forward, leaning towards Virgil.

Virgil took a deep breath. “Logan- he used his venom on a SkyWing soldier.”

Roman gasped and stepped back, finally understanding. 

He had only seen RainWing use their venom once, in the arena. It was agonizingly slow, and the SandWing it had been shot at didn’t stop screaming until they were dead.

The fact that Logan would do that to another dragon was… horrifying.

“Roman! Virgil!” Patton shouted from his spot next to Frost. “Are you two okay?”

“We’re fine!” Roman called back. His gaze landed on Frost, and he gasped. “Frost!” he bounded over to her.

Frost was laying on her side, eyes closed. She lifted her head wearily as they approached.

Roman crouched next to her, tucking his talons underneath him. “Are you alright?”

“Why is everyone asking me that? I’m fine,” she replied as Virgil sat down next to him.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “Even so, you should still get some rest.” he eyed the cuts all over her body. “And you should probably get those wounds cleaned.”

“And why do you care?” she snapped suddenly.

“Frost!” Roman gasped as Virgil stared at her, stunned.

“What? He said that he didn’t want to get caught up in this,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. “And then he gets a headache and suddenly he wants to help us?” she glared at Virgil. “You’re hiding something, and I don’t know if I can trust you if you keep hiding it.”

Virgil looked to Roman for help, but he looked down at his talons. He instantly felt guilty as Virgil took a shaky breath.

“You’re the one who wanted me to come in the first place!” Virgil hissed. Roman flinched at the hostility in his voice. “You were willing to put your trust in me before you even met me. Just… take my word for it.”

Frost narrowed her eyes at him. “I better not end up dead for this, NightWing.”

“I’m not-” Virgil started, but stopped as Roman gave him a pleading look.

“Hey kiddo?” Patton said, standing up. “Let’s go see Logan and see if he’s okay. Roman can take care of Frost, right?” he said, looking at him.

Roman nodded, taking a cloth out of his bag. “These scratches aren’t too bad. They just need to be cleaned.”

As Patton dragged Virgil away, Frost sighed. “I know you trust him, but something feels… off. He’s hiding something, I know it.”

Roman reached to wipe some blood off of her back. “All that matters is that he helps us find the assassin and Remus,” he said.

Frost blinked at him. “Of course.” after a moment, she added. “You know I can do this myself, right?”

Roman shrugged. “Maybe, but at least I feel like I’m doing something. You got hurt while I was hiding. That… wasn’t very princely of me.”

“That’s alright,” she said. “I get it. You didn’t want to get captured.”

“Yeah, but… I hate feeling useless,” he said.

Frost snorted. “Well, if you got caught, then you’d truly be useless.” she yawned as he finished up. “Are you done?”

Roman nodded and smiled. “Yeah. And thank you, Frost.”

Frost hummed. “No problem.”

After everyone had cleaned up, they moved to another spot in case the SkyWings came back. Before long, everyone was settling down for the night, with Virgil keeping watch.

Frost was the first to fall asleep, then Logan, followed by Patton. It took awhile for Roman to fall asleep, his thoughts whirling around his head.

Queen Scarlet was dead. His sister Ruby was now queen.

It terrified him how the assassin had managed to kill the queen of the SkyWings. Eleven of her daughters had tried and failed, and one assassin had succeeded. How?

His thoughts swirled around his head until he finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep.

.

Roman woke up the next morning feeling absolutely terrible.

His shoulders ached from carrying Virgil for an entire day. His wings cried out in pain at the thought of more flying.

And his brain hurt from thinking about what Frost had said the night before.

Virgil seemed like a decent dragon, but Frost was right. He was hiding something.

His talon hovered his bag, where he kept the skyfire. For all he knew, the skyfire didn’t actually block mind reading.Virgil could be reading their minds right now.

Virgil wouldn’t do that. Roman decided, thinking about how Virgil had comforted him two nights ago. He might be hiding something, but I’m sure he has a good reason.

He shook his head, shifting his focus to something else. If everything went smoothly, they would catch the assassin, and Roman could focus on looking for his brother. He clenched his fists. Yes, he would catch the assassin, then everything would be okay.

“Good morning, Roman,” Frost said, shaking him from his thoughts. She winced, rubbing a scar on her neck.

Roman frowned. “Are you sure you’re up for this? We can wait a few hours if you need it.”

Frost rolled her eyes. “I’m completely fine, quit asking.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. He suspected that she was more tired than she let on, but he was doing the same thing, so he was in no position to judge.

“If you’re sure…” he stood up, helping Frost up as well.

The others had already woken up. “Good morning.” Logan greeted. Virgil nodded in acknowledgment.

Patton looked at Frost worriedly. “Are you sure you don’t want to rest a little longer? We don’t mind waiting.”

Frost sighed. “I am fine, can we move on?”

Roman nodded. “We should start heading north soon. After that, it’s all up to Frosty here.”

Frost ignored the nickname. “It’s going to get really cold,” she said. “Are you sure you still want to go?”

“Yes,” Virgil was the one to reply, to Roman’s surprise. “We need to catch this assassin as soon as possible.”

Frost glared at him, suspicious, and Roman quickly changed the topic to avoid a fight. “I’m sure we can handle a little cold,” he said, gesturing enthusiastically. “Especially with my fire!”

Logan looked doubtful. “You haven’t been to the Ice kingdom. You don’t know how cold it is up there.” noticing the pleading look on Roman’s face, he added, “But we did not have fire the last time I was there, so I am certain we will be fine.”

Frost tore at the grass below her. “Well, if you’re sure…”

Patton frowned. “Frost, you’re acting strange. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. “We can figure it out ourselves if we have to.”

“No, no. I...I want to go,” Frost looked up. “It’s just… nevermind. Let’s just go.”

Patton glanced at him uneasily, and he shook his head. “You’re right,” Patton said to her. “We should start flying, in case more SkyWings arrive.”

He turned to Virgil. “Do you need me to carry you, or…?”

Virgil shook his head. “Frost is in no condition to carry anyone, and I think Logan and I can manage.”

He nodded. “Okay. Then let’s get going!”

They continued to fly west, toward the desert. From there, Frost would lead them north, where the Ice Kingdom waited for them.

Roman tried to keep an eye on Frost as they flew, but it proved to be difficult. Everytime she caught him looking at her worriedly, she glared until he looked away.

The fifth time he was caught this, Frost said, “Three moons, if you want to bother someone so badly, go annoy Logan or something.”

Roman tugged at his sash. “But-”

Frost sighed. “I promise I will tell you if I need a break, just stop giving me that look.”

He reluctantly turned to fly alongside Logan, but not before telling Patton to keep an eye on the IceWing.

“How is your shoulder?” Roman asked Logan.

Logan didn’t look at him. “It feels fine, Patton looked at it last night.” he paused for a moment. “Thank you for asking.”

They flew in silence for a few moments.

“I apologize for what happened last night.” Logan said at last. “I realize it must have been… upsetting to see.”

Roman kept his eyes down, watching the desert pass by below them. “I see why you had to do it, but even if they would have taken me back to the Sky Kingdom, they’re still my tribe, Logan.” Before he could change his mind, he added, “Do you regret it?”

“What?”

“Do you regret using your venom on that SkyWing?” he could feel Logan staring at him, be he kept his eyes on the ground.

“I don’t think I do,” Logan replied. “I would have preferred not to use my venom, but that is what ended up happening. They were attacking Frost and Patton. I had no other choice.” he sounded like he was trying to convince himself. 

Roman sighed. “I suppose.”

They flew for a little while longer until Patton called for a rest. Roman hadn’t noticed how much his wings ached.

The ground was more rock than sand now, and it was significantly less hot than it was earlier. Even so, it was difficult to believe that the Ice Kingdom bordered the desert. Even harder to believe that the IceWings and SandWings had fought over this barren land years ago.

Virgil paced restlessly. “We should hurry. I don’t want to let the assassin get there first.”

Roman glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Is there a reason you’re so eager to catch the assassin? You were so reluctant before.”

Virgil sighed. “I promise I’ll explain just… not now.”

Roman blinked at him. That was not the answer he expected.

“Well,” Frost huffed, “If Stormcloud here wants to get to the Ice Kingdom quickly, then we should start flying now, right?”

Virgil tilted his head at her. “Stormcloud?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re like, the personification of a dark and stormy night.” she replied, gesturing to his hoodie. “You even have a stormcloud on your hoodie.”

Logan sighed. “Frost is correct, we should leave soon. We should get there by nightfall if we fly swiftly.”

They took off, in the direction of the Ice Kingdom. As they neared the frozen desert, he was reminded of how much they still had to do. There wasn’t a guarantee Queen Glacier would welcome them. And even if they found the assassin, then what? They had no idea where Remus was, and he wasn’t sure Ruby would welcome him back to the Sky Kingdom.

He sighed shakily, and Patton glanced at him worriedly. “You okay, kiddo?” he asked.

Roman thought about that question. He thought about what Logan had said and about Remus. He thought about the assassin and about what Ruby must be thinking of him at that moment.

“Yeah,” he lied. “I’m okay.”

.

Roman was cold.

Cold wasn’t a strong enough word to describe it. He could feel it seeping through his skin and wrapping around his bones. He could feel it enter his throat as he breathed, ripping through his lungs. The very concept of warmth escaped him, as if it was a world away.

The only comfort he had was Virgil pressed to his side, his thin, wiry frame hardly giving off any warmth.

“Sh-shut up,” he had chattered after he had slid under Roman’s golden wing. “Y-you’re w-warm.”

Roman had tried to come up with a witty reply, but all that came out was a croak.

Behind them, Logan and Patton trudged through the snow, huddled together. In front of them, Frost led the way, looking over her shoulder worriedly when she thought no one was looking.

“Bad news!” Frost shouted over the wind. “Looks like a storm’s coming!”

A gust of wind threatened to knock him over and made Virgil stumble. He wrapped his wing around the seer and continued through the blizzard.

After what felt like forever of fighting the storm and almost freezing to death, Frost finally managed to find a cave for them to shelter in. She ushered them inside, looking at the sky uneasily. The sun was completely covered by the clouds and the snow was falling more heavily than before.

Roman collapsed at the back of the cave, shivering. The cave sheltered them from the wind, but he was still colder than he had ever been in his life.

Logan and Patton sat down on the opposite side of the cave, and Virgil plopped down next to Roman. He sat there, shivering, until Roman sighed and pulled him closer. 

“Y-you’re freezing.” Roman said through chattering teeth.

“So a-are you,” Virgil replied, shaking snow off his hoodie.

Patton held up his wrists, and gray silk poured onto the floor. “Here,” he said. “You can burn this.”

Roman nodded and took a deep breath. It took a few tries, but he managed to set the silk on fire. Virgil stared at the flames with wide eyes.

“We never had fire back on the island because, well, SeaWings.” he said.

“Well, it’s v-very hot,” Roman offered helpfully.

Virgil glared at him. “Yeah, no shit.”

“You should try to get some rest.” Frost interrupted. Even she was starting to shiver.

“Hey, Frost,” he said, trying to distract her. “Tell us something about the Ice Kingdom. What was it like?”

Frost was silent for a long moment. “Well, to be honest, I hated it.” she finally said, taking a shaky breath and opening her mouth to continue.

Roman widened his eyes. “Oh! You don’t have to talk about it if-”

“No, I want to,” Frost said, clenching her fists. “My mom made it bearable, but one day she went hunting and… she never came back.” her voice was oddly hollow, devoid of emotion.

Roman gulped. “And your father?”

“He never paid any attention to me when mother was alive,” she replied. “But then she died, and he suddenly took an interest in me. Started pushing me harder and harder until I was at the top of the rankings, but even that wasn’t enough. I had to be the best at everything.” she looked out the mouth of the cave and into the storm. “Eventually, I got tired of it and left.”

Roman stared at her. “Permission to push your father off a mountain?” he pretended not to notice the whack Virgil gave him.

Frost chuckled. “I wish I could say yes to that.”

“So that’s why you were so reluctant to return here.” Logan said thoughtfully.

She glanced at him. “I guess.”

“Then you don’t have to come with us,” Roman decided. “Maybe-maybe you can get us to the Great Ice cliff, and we’ll find a way around it.”

“No, the wall is too big to fly around,” Logan argued. “We need Frost to get us the Gift of Diplomacy.”

He felt Virgil shiver against his side. “The gift of what?”

“The Gift of Diplomacy,” Frost answered. “They’re bracelets that let dragons of other tribes cross the Great Ice Cliff, since the cliff kills everything but IceWings.”

Patton’s eyes went wide. “And you didn’t think to tell us this sooner?”

Frost rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry, I thought you knew.”

“All of that aside, we still need Frost to get those bracelets.” Logan said. “We won’t survive otherwise.”

Frost stood up. “No. I refuse to go back in there. I can’t- I can’t afford it.”

Logan still wouldn’t give up. “Frost-”

“I’ll go see if I can find something to eat,” she interrupted. She stepped toward the mouth of the cave. It was snowing so hard, Roman couldn’t see five feet outside.

“Frost, wait!” he shouted as she spread her wings. “You can’t go out in that!”

Frost didn’t look back as she said, “I’ve been in worse. I’ll be back soon.”

With that, she turned and flew into the storm.

Roman turned to Logan. “Look what you did! She’s going to freeze out there!”

“You don’t think I know that?” Logan shouted back. “I shouldn’t have done that. I-I made a mistake.”

He tried to stand on his shaking legs. “I’m going after her.”

Virgil grabbed his arm. “No you’re not. You’re just going to get lost and freeze to death. She’ll come back, and if she doesn’t, then we’ll look. After the storm.”

Roman reluctantly sat down, still staring at the cave’s opening. Even if IceWings could survive subzero temperatures, they weren’t supposed to be out during blizzards. Eventually, even an IceWing would freeze to death, like any other dragon.

I won’t let that happen. Roman thought fiercely. We’ll get in, warn the IceWings, catch the assassin, and leave.

Moons above, I hope this works.

.

Fortunately, Frost had come back as the storm was dying down.

“Frost! You’re okay!” Roman stood up and pulled her into a hug. She gasped at the sudden contact, the relaxed. She was shivering violently, and Roman pulled away to look at her. “Frost? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” she said, stepping away awkwardly. “We should get going.”

“Frost, I want to-” Logan started.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” she interrupted. “I’ll get you as far as the Ice cliff. After that, you’re on your own. I- I know I promised to help you find the assassin, but I also promised myself that I wouldn’t go back there.”

“That’s okay,” Patton said. “You’ve already done so much for us. It wouldn’t be fair to ask for more.”

Frost nodded. “R-right.”

They began to walk north, in the direction of the Ice palace. Frost led them through the tough terrain, pointing out the easiest paths and the more dangerous ones.

“You’re gonna have to fly around the Great Ice Cliff,” Frost said, walking alongside them. “It shouldn’t be too long of a flight, just a couple of hours. From there, fly north until you see the Ice palace. It’s big, tall towers, you can’t miss it.”

Roman sighed and looked up at the sky. Even the thought of more flying made his wings feel tired. The storm had died down significantly, but the wind was still fairly strong.

Virgil shivered against his side. “I just want to get out of here as soon as possible. It’s c-cold.”

Roman opened his mouth to reply, but a streak of green flashing at the edge of his vision interrupted his train of thought. He whipped his head around, but there was nothing there.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “What? What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I just thought-”

“Uh, Roman?” Frost cut him off, pointing to something in front of them.

A black and green dragon was standing in front of them, lazily swinging his tail from side to side. Roman squinted at the dragon. Wait, it couldn’t be. Is that…?

“Remus?” he ran toward him, ignoring Logan’s shouts.

He stopped a few feet away from him, frowning. He was absolutely certain that dragon was Remus, but something felt… off. Remus had his head down, and his shoulders were tense.

“Remus?” he said hesitantly. “W- what are you doing here?” he shook his head. That didn’t matter right now. “We finally found you.”

Remus didn’t respond.

He stepped forward, grabbing his wrist. “Come on, Rem. Let’s go home-”

Remus wrenched his arm away from his grasp, looking up. Roman gasped.

His eyes were completely white.

He stumbled back. “Remus, what-”

Remus swiped a talon at him, and he barely dodged it. Someone tried to drag him back, but he dug his claws into the snow. “Wait! There’s something wrong. What’s wrong with my brother?”

Now that Roman was out of reach, Remus turned to the closest target. Frost was crouching in a defensive stance, and Remus growled at her, shaking a knife out of his sleeve. He stabbed at her face and she reared up to grab his arms at the last second. Remus pressed harder, growling. Frost’s eyes flickered between Remus and the knife.

“Roman?” Virgil’s grip tightened on his arm. “Is that-is that your brother?”

“It looks like him,” he hated the way his voice shook. “But that’s not- that can’t be him.”

He watched numbly as Patton held his wrist out and shot silk at the knife. It wrapped around the handle and he yanked it out of Remus’s talons. He snapped his head toward them, snarling.

Virgil let go of his arm, shifting to stand in front of Patton. “Looks like we’re going to have to fight him.”

“No, no, I can’t, that’s my brother,” Roman muttered, barely aware of what he was saying. He flinched as Logan tackled Remus off of Frost. Logan got thrown into the snow and Remus stood up, turning his glare on Roman. Patton moved away from Roman and Virgil, taking Remus’s attention. The light caught on something on his ear and- was that an earring?

Virgil looked down at Roman’s shaking talons, then back up at his eyes. “You don’t have to fight him, then. Just- just stay here.”

Roman watched as he shoved Patton out of the way of Remus’s fire. The knife was still stuck in the ground, forgotten.

He shifted his gaze to Remus. His eyes were pearly white, his expression blank. It was all so not Remus that for a moment he doubted it was even him. But there was no one in Pyrrhia who was quite the same shade of green. His sleeves were still stained red from when he wiped his knife with it. Even the way he moved, with quick, fluid motions that were almost too fast to follow was familiar.

Logan let out a cry as he was flung away from Remus. His eyes snapped back to Virgil as he clawed at Remus’s throat.

Roman squeezed his eyes shut. Logically, he knew they had to stop Remus, but that didn’t make it hurt any less when he heard his brother’s shouts of pain.

“Roman!” Virgil shouted. He opened his eyes to see Remus charging toward him, knife held high.

He wouldn’t hurt me. Roman thought dimly. He wouldn’t, I trust-

Remus threw the knife.

It hurtled through the air and sank into his forearm. He heard someone scream and wondered why it was so loud when he realized he was the one screaming. He lifted his arm shakily, watching the blood trickle down his scales. The sight of it made him dizzy.

He was dimly aware of Patton screaming, of Virgil grabbing his arm desperately, of the pain he should’ve been more aware of, but his gaze was locked on the knife.

Virgil stared at the knife embedded in his arm, shouting, “Logan! Come help me over here!” to Roman, he said, “Come on, Princey, we gotta get out of here.”

He slumped against Virgil, and he grunted under Roman’s weight. “I-I…” he tried to apologize for being unhelpful, but his tongue wouldn’t cooperate with him.

Frost roared and leaped at Remus. The two dragons clawed and bit at each other, rolling through the snow. Blood splattered the ground, staining it red and blue.

Logan came to support him on his other side. He held his arm up again and moved to take the knife out.

“No!” Logan exclaimed. “I do not know much about stab wounds, but I know you should not take the knife out.” he turned around. “Patton?”

Patton hurried toward them, glancing between the battling dragons and Roman worriedly. “Logan’s right, we should wait until we can get to safety before taking it out.”

Roman groaned, putting more of his weight on Virgil. “It- it hurts.”

Patton looked at him sadly. “I know, kiddo. I promise we’ll fix it soon.” he spoke as if he was talking to a startled animal. He probably should have been offended by that, but he was in too much pain to think about that.

He started to lead them away, but Roman looked back at Frost and Remus. “But what about Frost? And my brother?”

“I’m sure Frost will be fine.” Virgil didn’t sound sure, which wasn’t comforting in the slightest. “And Remus…”

“I can talk to him,” he pleaded. He hated how desperate he sounded. “I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding. Remus would never-”

“Roman.” Virgil said, forcing him to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry, but...”

Roman shook his head, knowing what he was about to say. He didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to confirm it, as if not thinking about it would will it out of existence.

“I think Remus is the assassin.”

.

“Hey, Ro. Finally awake?”

Roman slowly opened his eyes, blinking the sleepiness away. He tried to sit up, but gasped in pain when he put weight on his injured arm.

“Hey, careful.” He looked up to see Virgil staring down at him.

He looked back down at the injured arm, which was covered in bandages. The previous day was hazy, like he had dreamed it up.

“Frost?” he asked.

“I’m over here.” The IceWing sat in a corner, arm held out so Patton could wrap bandages around it. She also had a bandage around her waist and back leg. “Some IceWings living on the outskirts gave us some supplies. Probably saved our scales.”

He looked back up at Virgil. “And Remus?”

Virgil shook his head. “He got away. I’m sorry Roman, but he’s the only one who could be the assassin.”

“Could you read his mind? What was it like?” he asked.

“It-it was strange,” he replied. “The only way to describe it is... sharp. Like it was blocked off by a wall of thorns.”

“Well, I-I want to talk to him,” Roman said, blinking tears out of his eyes. “I want to know why he did it.”

Virgil shared a glance with Logan.

“I don’t think you can,” Logan said slowly. “Did you see his eyes?”

Roman perked up. “That’s it! He must be under a spell!”

“A spell?” Patton tilted his head. “How?”

“Long story short, there are these dragons called animus dragons who can do anything they want by enchanting something. They’re supposed to be super rare.” Roman explained. 

“Woah,” Patton said, awestruck. “That sounds amazing.”

“Yeah,” Roman sighed. “I wonder how Remus found one.”

Beside him, Virgil shivered, and he realized there was no fire in the cave.

“T-there’s no fire,” Roman’s teeth chattered. 

“Well, none of us have fire,” Frost replied, studying her newly applied bandages as Patton worked on putting new ones on her waist. “And you were unconscious.”

Roman sat up, careful not to put weight on his injured arm. “Then I’ll make one right now.”

Patton stepped forward, holding out his wrists. Silk poured from them, and soon there was a small pile of silk sitting on the cave floor. He breathed fire on the silk, setting it ablaze. He sat back down, feeling dizzy.

“Take it easy, Prince Charming,” Frost said. “You lost a lot of blood.”

“And it should be time for Roman to change his now,” Patton called, not looking up from his work. “Virgil, can you take care of that for me?”

Frost tossed a roll of bandages at Virgil, who fumbled it, almost dropping it on Roman. “Watch it!”

“Oops!” Frost smirked.

“Hey, be nice!” Patton called.

“Whatever, dad,” Frost muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Virgil sighed and turned to Roman. He started to unwrap the bandages on his arm wordlessly.

“I can do this myself, you know,” Roman said, trying to catch Virgil’s eye. He’d patched Remus up enough times to know how to do it in his sleep.

“I know,” Virgil murmured, still not meeting his eyes. “I just need something to do. I’ve been sitting in this cave for hours.”

“Oh,” Roman said. “Sorry about that.”

“Sorry about what? Getting stabbed?” Virgil finally managed to get the bandage off and he had to resist the urge to gag at the sight of the stab wound.

Virgil noticed his expression. “Yeah, it was pretty bad. You shouldn’t put weight on it for a while.”

Virgil began to apply the bandages to his arm. Roman watched him work, struggling to stay awake. He must have been more tired than he thought.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, Princey.” Virgil nudged his face gently. “You’re not sleeping until you’ve had something to eat.”

Roman shook his head to clear it. “I wasn’t falling asleep, Stormcloud.”

Virgil raised a brow. “Oh, we’re going with that nickname?” without waiting for a reply, he turned to Frost. “You got any food left from those IceWings?”

He heard Frost rummage around for something. The sound of the something slapping Virgil in the face followed soon after. 

“Hey!”

“You were supposed to catch it!”

“Frost, maybe you should not throw the food?” Logan said tiredly from the other side of the fire.

Frost muttered something too quiet for him to hear.

Virgil grumbled and handed Roman half of the seal Frost had thrown, keeping the other half for himself.

Roman ate it in two bites, too hungry to roast it. He wrinkled his nose at the taste. “I don’t know how anyone could enjoy raw meat,” Roman commented, ignoring Frost’s offended squawk. “But… Remus would have loved it.” he stared down at the bandage on his arm, pretending not to notice the worried glance Logan sent to Virgil.

“If he is under a spell,” Frost said. “Then we’ll have to find the animus that enchanted him, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Logan said. “An animus dragon needs an object to enchant, correct? All we have to do is find the enchanted object.” Logan turned to Roman. “Was your brother carrying or wearing anything that could have been enchanted?”

Roman thought about it and suddenly remembered the earring he saw briefly. “Remus was wearing an earring earlier, but I couldn’t see what it looked like. That must be it, though.” Virgil suddenly gasped, then quickly hid it with a cough. Roman gave him a puzzled look. Virgil didn’t notice.

Frost was shaking her head. “But we have no guarantee that that’s the enchanted object. For all we know, the animus could be controlling him from across the continent.”

Patton laced his claws together. “There are a lot more dragons here than on Pantala, and it’s a lot less… organized. We don’t have time to search for one dragon.”

Virgil tensed, his grip tightening on his seal. Roman narrowed his eyes and frowned.

“Maybe… what if we had a way to find the animus?” Frost wondered aloud, giving Virgil a pointed look.

Virgil let out a shaky breath and stood up. “I have something to tell you all. It’s about my visions.”

Logan looked up from the fire, intrigued. Frost widened her eyes, then immediately narrowed them, suspicious. Patton somehow managed to look even more worried than he already was.

“In one of my visions, there was a SandWing, but not any ordinary SandWing- this one was wingless.” Virgil said quickly. “And-and in his talons, he was holding an earring. One that was shaped like a rose.”

Roman clenched his fists, leaving imprints in his palms. He remembered that earring, remembered giving that earring to Remus for his hatching day, remembered being so excited to give it to him. Remus never wore it, claiming that he didn’t want to break it. “That has to be the one with the enchantment on it. He never used to wear it before.”

“That does make sense,” Frost admitted begrudgingly. “But still…”

“Virgil, that can’t be the only vision you had. Earlier you said visions, plural.” Logan pointed out.

“You’re right,” Virgil said. “I had a vision of Queen Glacier dying, so that’s why we came here.”

Frost shuddered, rubbing the scratches on her waist. “I don’t like the sound of that. Princess Snowfall is a pain in the ass.”

“And the last vision,” Virgil said, ignoring Frost. “Was of- of Patton dying.”

Virgil was looking down at his talons while everyone stared at him. Roman lightly brushed his wing with his own in an attempt at comforting him. Virgil didn’t notice.

Patton stood up and ran towards Virgil, wrapping his wings around him. “This is why you wanted me to stay on the island, isn’t it?”

Roman turned away, letting the two dragons have as much privacy as possible in the small cave.

He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to watch someone he loved die, with seemingly no way to stop it.

Except I can. He thought miserably. Remus is taking out the royal families, and one day it’s going to get him killed.

I need to stop him before that happens.

.

Roman couldn’t sleep.

Even though he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and not open them until morning, his body refused to let him rest. After much tossing and turning and picking at the bandages on his arm, he finally gave up and limped onto the ledge outside the cave.

The cold was almost enough to make him go back inside, but the stars convinced him to stay. For a while, he sat in the cold and watched the stars in silence, thinking.

The sound of talonsteps made him turn around. He lit up as he saw that it was Virgil that had come to join him.

“Hey, Stormcloud,” he greeted.

“Hey. Couldn’t sleep?” Virgil asked as he sat down next to Roman.

“Yeah. My thoughts won’t leave me alone,” Roman said, pressing himself against Virgil for warmth.

Virgil laid a wing over Roman’s back and sighed. “I know the feeling well.” He laid his head on his talons, and Roman did the same. He looked at the bandages on his arm. “How’s your arm? Does it still hurt?”

“Not that much,” he lied. In fact, he thought it hurt more than it had a day ago. “A few more days and I’ll be good as new!” he forced himself to smile.

Virgil narrowed his eyes as if he saw right through the lie, but didn’t comment. “Something’s on your mind.” It was more of a statement than a question.

His talons instinctively moved to his bag, where he kept his skyfire. Virgil just chuckled. “I don’t need to read your mind to know that. So, what’s up?”

Roman looked up at the sky. “I- I really want to help him, Virgil.” he didn’t need to say Remus’s name in order for Virgil to figure out who he was talking about. “And I know we can’t do anything to help him right now, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling anxious and-”

“Then just talk about something else.” Virgil interrupted.

Roman blinked at him. “What?”

Virgil looked down and rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “It’s just something my mom and I used to do. Whenever one of us got stressed, we would talk about a completely different topic until we could confront the problem. Since we can’t fix this problem right now, why not take your mind off of it?”

Roman smiled. “Alright then.” he thought for a moment. “When I was a dragonet, I was cared for by a SkyWing named Crimson. She was awesome. She played games with us, and whenever I didn’t feel like doing battle practice, she would tell us stories. The stories were always something I had never heard of before, and she knew how to spin a tale. I miss her.”

“What happened to her?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, um…” he wasn’t sure how to say that one day she had disappeared and he never saw her again.

Virgil seemed to get the hint. “Oh! I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s alright, it was a long time ago anyway.” Even as he said it, he felt a pang in his chest. He was surprised at how sad he felt about it, even after so many years.

He bumped Virgil’s shoulder with his own, attempting to change the subject. “Your turn.”

Virgil furrowed his brows in confusion. “My turn to what?”

“I told you something about me. Now it’s your turn.”

“Oh, right.” Virgil was silent for a moment before he smirked. He held up his arms, rolling up his sleeves. “You see these purple scales?” He nodded at the scales that ran up his arm. “Watch them carefully.”

Roman nodded and kept his eyes on Virgil’s arm. The scales suddenly lit up, causing him to cry out in alarm.

He rubbed his eyes and blinked rapidly while Virgil laughed his head off. “I probably should have expected that. You’re half SeaWing, after all.”

Virgil laughed even harder at that, and Roman couldn’t help but join in. After a while, Virgil finally calmed down enough to say, “I didn’t think you’d actually fall for it!”

Roman whacked him with his wing and pouted. “Shut up.” he was trying to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t keep the fond look off his face.

Virgil giggled and whacked him back.

“So, uh.” Roman wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. “Can I see them again? Without burning my eyes, please.”

Virgil got his giggles under control and nodded. “Okay.” he held out his arms again and they began to glow, dimmer than before. The scales on his tail and under his eyes began to glow as well until he was emanating a soft, purple light.

“Wow,” Roman whispered, reaching out to touch Virgil’s arm lightly. “They’re like… violet fireflies.”

“Really?” he dimmed the scales until they were no longer glowing. “I never thought about them like that.”

“Well, they’re lovelier than any firefly I’ve ever seen,” Roman said.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Are you like this with every dragon you meet?”

Roman smirked. “Just the interesting ones.”

“And I’m interesting to you?”

“A little bit.”

Virgil smiled. “I can live with that.”

They sat under the stars for a while until Roman began to shiver.

“We should head back in,” Virgil said as he started to shiver too.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Roman stood up, holding his injured arm in the air and helped Virgil up. They headed inside the cave, but Virgil suddenly stumbled.

“Woah, are you-” he caught Virgil with one arm as he collapsed. He was staring into the horizon, muttering under his breath. “Virgil? Are you okay?”

He was about to go get help when Virgil’s eyes fluttered open. He groaned and rubbed his head. 

“You okay, Stormcloud?” Roman asked, adjusting his grip on him.

Virgil’s eyes widened and he quickly pulled away. “I-I’m fine. It was just a vision. Sorry about that.”

Roman frowned. “Are they always that dramatic?”

“Usually.”

He nodded slowly. “Alright. What was your vision about this time?”

“It was of Remus.” Roman gasped. “And I think I know where our animus is.”

.

“We have to go to the desert again?” Frost cried, distraught.

“Uh, yeah? Where else would you find a SandWing, genius?” Virgil snapped.

Roman sighed. They had been arguing for what was probably only a few minutes, but felt like hours.

“Though I would prefer not to go to the desert again, it’s our only option if we want to help Roman.” Logan added.

Roman buried his head in his talons, suddenly feeling guilty. He had dragged them into this. He was responsible for everything that had happened. They didn’t need to help him, and yet…

“Roman, you okay?” Patton’s voice forced him out of his thoughts.

“I’m quite alright,” he replied. “But… this is my problem. None of you need to help me.” he turned to Frost. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. And Virgil.” he looked at the seer. “I’m so sorry for forcing you into this. You don’t have to help me either. None of you do.” he looked down at his talons, feeling miserable. They must hate him for dragging them into his problems.

Virgil stood up. “You idiot.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

Virgil walked over, took Roman’s talons between his, and squeezed them. “You’re an idiot if you think we’re going to leave you to do this by yourself. I chose to come, remember? And I also chose to stay.” Roman stared at their entwined talons, stunned.

Frost nodded. “He’s right. Besides, I promised I would help you find the assassin, and I’m not one to break my promises.”

“And there’s no way we’d let you do this yourself, right Logan?” Patton said excitedly.

“Correct. We’re helping you solve this problem, Roman, whether you like it or not,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses.

Roman smiled so wide his face hurt. He let go of Virgil’s talons and pulled his friends into a hug. He buried his face into someone’s shoulder, muttering, “Thank you,” over and over and over again. He didn’t even realize he had been crying until he pulled away with tears streaming down his face.

He wiped his tears away with his uninjured arm. “Thank you,” he whispered one last time.

“Right, with that out of the way,” Logan said, flustered. “Let’s go find this animus, shall we?”

.

After about a day of flying, they had finally reached the SandWing stronghold.

“Should we… go inside?” Roman asked as they took a break near an oasis. Patton was refilling their water bottles they got from Frost’s IceWing friends while Frost submerged herself in the water.

“Why should we?” Frost asked, lifting her head out of the water. “We don’t need Thorn’s help.”

“And wouldn’t it be more wise to keep this all a secret? At least until it’s fixed?” Logan added.

“I suppose you’re right,” Roman sighed. “It would have been nice to have a backup army, though.”

“So Virgil, where exactly is this animus?” Frost asked, sitting up. “Because I don’t think Thorn has any wingless SandWings in her palace.”

Virgil shook his head. “No, he’s not in the stronghold. In my vision, he was standing in front of a cave that went into the ground, and he was holding that earring again.”

“And where’s the cave?” Roman asked.

“Somewhere west of the palace.”

Frost sighed. “We’ve got a lot of flying ahead of us.”

.

Night had fallen on the desert, but they still hadn’t found the animus’s cave.

The five of them had found a hole that would presumably lead them into a tunnel system, judging by the rock Frost had thrown down it.

“I guess we can sleep in this hole in the ground,” Virgil said, staring down the hole.

Frost nodded. “It looks safe.”

Roman looked up at the sky, feeling restless. “Shouldn’t we try looking for a little while longer? The moons are bright and there isn’t a cloud in sight.”

Patton reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “I know you want to find Remus, but we’ve been flying all day, and we need rest.”

“And I would like to scout before we make any rash decisions,” Frost added.

Logan sighed when he still didn’t look entirely convinced. “We’ll scout out the animus’s cave first thing in the morning.” he said. “But for now, you need to rest that arm.”

Roman glanced down at his injured arm. It had healed enough that he didn’t need the bandages anymore, but it still hurt when he put his weight on it. “Fine, fine.”

Roman went down the hole first. He was surprised at how deep it was, and he had to suppress a hiss of pain as he landed on his injured arm.

“Roman, are you okay?” Patton called.

Roman grunted and stood up. “Yeah, I’m fine! It’s safe to come down!”

Patton came down next, fluttering his wings to break his fall. “There isn’t much space to spread your wings, so be careful!” he shouted up at the others.

Frost poked her head through the hole, blocking out the moonlight momentarily. She squeezed her shoulders through and almost fell, but righted herself at the last second, landing ungracefully on her feet. The bandages on her arm came loose, and Patton quickly moved to fix it.

Logan went down after her. He spread his wings to slow his descent, but one of them scraped against the cave walls and he plummeted to the ground.

“Logan!” Roman cried, running to his side. “Are you okay?”

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Virgil called from above.

“I’m alright!” Logan shouted back. “It was just a fall, nothing to worry about,” he said to Roman.

“Well, it looked like it hurt,” Roman replied, helping Logan up. He turned his head up to the skylight. “Virgil, you can come down now!”

Virgil squinted down at them. “Um, how far is the drop, exactly?”

Roman frowned. Was that a hint of fear in his voice? “Uh, it’s not that far. You’ll probably be fine!” he said, glancing at Frost and Logan, who were both grimacing in pain.

“Right, very reassuring.” Virgil disappeared from view for a moment before he suddenly threw himself down the hole. He plummeted like a rock and landed on Logan, squashing him to the ground.

Roman gasped. “Virgil, are you okay?” he asked, offering him his uninjured arm.

Virgil grabbed his arm and pulled himself off of Logan. “Yeah- ow- I’m fine.” he looked down at Logan. “Sorry Logan,”

“It’s… alright,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses and brushing himself off. “Let’s get moving, shall we?”

Frost nodded, tightening the bandages on her arm. “Let’s find somewhere bigger. I feel cramped in here.”

Roman led the way through the tunnels, occasionally breathing fire to light their way. The tunnels were narrow, so they had to walk single file. Sometimes they became so small Roman was afraid he had gotten stuck. The stone was dry, and it scraped painfully against his scales.

Eventually, the tunnel opened up into a small cave just big enough for all five of them to sit in. 

Frost drew her wings in close to her body, looking around the cramped space. “Isn’t it a bit… small?”

“It’s the best we can do for now,” Patton said. “Besides, I’m sure we’re all too tired to search for a bigger cave.”

Roman laid down, his head on his talons. Virgil laid down next to him, and Logan sat on his other side. “Do we need someone to keep watch? I don’t think it’s likely that anyone will find us,” Roman said, stifling a yawn.

“We’re so close to the animus, though,” Virgil pointed out. “We can’t be too careful.”

“Well, who wants to keep watch then?” Patton asked. “I can-”

Frost raised a talon. “I’ll-”

“Absolutely not,” Patton said sternly. “You, an IceWing, just flew through a desert, and you still haven’t healed completely from that fight with Remus. Anyone else?”

Frost lowered her arm sheepishly. 

Logan sighed. “I suppose I’ll do it.”

Patton nodded. “Alright, everybody else, try to get some rest. Logan, wake Virgil or me when you start to feel tired.”

It took some time and quite a bit of shuffling around, but eventually they managed to find a comfortable position to lie in. It wasn’t perfect, with Frost’s spikes poking him in the back, Patton’s wings in his face, and Virgil’s head resting on his talons, but he was comfortable enough to drift into a fitful sleep.

.

Roman woke the next morning to darkness. He panicked for a moment before he remembered he was in the tunnels beneath the desert. He blinked awake and saw Logan sitting next to Patton’s sleeping form. He gently lifted Virgil’s head off his talons and set it on the floor and gingerly stood up, trying not to wake anyone. 

He stepped over tails and talons to sit next to Logan, carefully pushing Patton’s leg out of the way.

“Good morning,” Logan greeted. He was scratching something on the floor, but quickly wiped it away as Roman leaned over to look.

Roman sat down, curling his tail around his talons. “How do you know it’s morning? There’s no light down here.”

Logan shrugged. “I guessed, mostly. You wake up around the same time everyday, correct? Therefore, it’s safe to assume that it is morning.”

Roman chuckled. “Good morning, then.”

Logan rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. Roman looked closer and saw that his eyes were red from lack of sleep.

“Did you stay up the whole night?” he asked. “I thought you were supposed to wake Virgil.”

“He was already asleep, and I was doing fine,” Logan huffed. “I was able to stay awake the entire night, so it hardly matters.”

Roman frowned, but didn’t reply.

The two dragons sat in silence for a long time, lost in thought, until the cave grew warmer.

“We should wake the others,” Logan said, standing up. “I’ll get Patton.” Roman nodded, moving to rouse Virgil and Frost.

He woke Frost by poking her in the shoulder, to which she responded by batting his talons away. He eventually managed to get her to sit up, though she wasn’t happy about it.

Rousing Virgil proved to be a much easier task. All it took was a few nudges and the seer was on his feet.

“Mornin’” Virgil greeted, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Good morning,” he replied. 

“Alright, who’s going to scout with me?” Frost called, effectively silencing everyone in the cave.

“I’ll go,” Roman volunteered immediately. 

“I’ll go too,” Virgil said. “I can show you where the animus is.”

Patton frowned. “Should Frost go? She still hasn’t recovered completely…”

Frost sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “I just want to do something,” she said. “Being in these tunnels is… suffocating.”

“But the desert will be the most dangerous to you,” Roman pointed out. “That’s why IceWings are rarely seen anywhere other than the Ice Kingdom, right? Because you’ll overheat?”

“It won’t take that long,” she pressed. “I just don’t like sitting around doing nothing.”

Roman wanted to argue more, but seeing the look on her face, he knew she wouldn’t change her mind.

He nodded reluctantly. “Alright. Let’s get going.”

.

Roman, Virgil, and Frost set out before the sun was highest, leaving Logan and Patton behind in case something happened to them.

“Can you lead us to the animus’s cave?” Roman asked as soon as they emerged from the tunnels.

Virgil squinted at the sky, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness. He had taken off his hoodie and left it with Patton, so Roman could see the glowing purple scales that ran up his arms and along his side. “I think so. Now that I think about it, the tunnels we were just in might be connected to the animus’s.

Roman’s eyes widened. “Should we have left Patton and Logan alone down there?”

“They’ll be fine,” Frost said, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Logan has his venom.”

“And Patton knows how to take care of himself,” Virgil added, though Roman could hear the uncertainty in his voice. “Now, let’s go find this animus.”

They searched for the rest of the morning, growing more and more weary at each cave they searched that wasn’t the animus’s. It wasn’t until noon that they found something.

“Roman, did you see that?” Virgil said urgently, grabbing his arm.

“See what?” he said right as he saw a streak of black and green fly overhead.

His eyes went wide. “That’s him! That’s Remus!” he spread his wings to follow him, but Virgil tugged him back.

“We should stay hidden,” he explained. “Maybe he’ll lead us to wherever the animus is.”

Roman folded his wings in begrudgingly, admitting that Virgil made sense.

They followed Remus from the ground, freezing when he looked down. There wasn’t anywhere to hide in the desert, and Roman found that he missed the towering peaks and dense forests of the Sky Kingdom.

“How… far away… is this dragon?” Frost panted, looking like she was about to faint. Roman steadied her with a wing, and she nodded at him gratefully.

“Looks like it’s not much farther,” Virgil said. “He’s landing.”

Sure enough, Remus was diving straight to the sand, spreading his wings right before he hit the ground. A few moments later, a wingless SandWing wearing a black cloak stepped outside. He nodded at Remus and scanned the sand dunes. The three of them ducked until his gaze wandered off of them. He gestured to the cave and he and Remus went inside the cave.

“We should go after him,” Roman decided as soon as the SandWing disappeared into the cave. “Right now. We could free him.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Virgil snapped. “There’s no way the three of us can take Remus on, especially when he has an animus as backup.”

Roman lashed his tail, sending clouds of sand stirring around him. “I know, I know, it’s just… frustrating. We’re so close.”

Virgil sighed. “But if we go now, we’re all going to die, and I am not dying in this miserable place.”

“Besides, don’t you want to go and rest?” Frost said, fanning herself with her wings. “It’s… really hot, don’t you think?”

Roman dug his claws into the sand, ignoring the jolt of pain it sent up his injured arm. He could see the cave clearly, opening into the sand dune and continuing downward. A ring of cacti stood in front of the mouth of the cave, looking almost deliberate.

Virgil stared at him with a concerned expression before he quickly looked away. Frost lifted into the air, hovering while she waited for them to join her. “Let’s hurry,” she said, sounding out of breath. “We don’t want to keep Logan and Patton waiting.”

.

“Did you find anything?” Patton asked as soon as they dropped into the tunnel.

“We saw the animus at his cave,” Frost answered. “Roman’s brother was there too.”

“That’s good, right?” Patton said, propping a torch against a rock.

While they had been gone, Patton and Logan had gone deeper into the tunnels and found a bigger cave for them to wait in. The new cave was big enough for Roman to spread his wings, so that was a plus.

“Yeah, all we need is a plan.” Virgil said, putting his hoodie back on. his claws and face were still soaking from his trip to the underground river Patton and Logan had found.

“But we don’t need a plan!” Roman said, frustrated. “We can just go and free Remus, can’t we?”

“But we do need a plan,” Logan cut in. “We need a way to lure your brother out without alerting the animus. I don’t think you want to deal with an animus anymore than I do.”

Roman had to admit that it didn’t sound very appealing. “Then what do you suppose we do?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Frost said. She scooted over to an empty spot on the floor and started to scratch something into it. Roman leaned over to see what it was. It turned out to be a map of the area around the animus’s cave.

“Alright,” Frost said, leaning forward. “This is what I had in mind…”

.

Roman yawned as he sat on the other side of the cave. They had been discussing the plan all day, and Frost and Logan were finalizing it. It was still so surreal to him that they would go through all these lengths just to help him with his own problems. They didn’t gain anything from it. They weren’t even royalty, and yet they stood by him. It was baffling.

He looked up as Virgil plopped down next to him. “How are you feeling?” he asked. He had taken his hoodie off earlier, and his scales glowed faintly in the dark. 

“Well, as good as I can be in this miserable heat,” Roman said. “I don’t know how SandWings stand it.”

Virgil punched him lightly in the shoulder. “I meant like, mentally, Princey.”

Roman’s smile melted off his face. “I’m just impatient. Another day gone. Another day that Remus has to be under a spell.”

“At least we’ll be prepared,” Virgil said. He was silent for a moment before he nervously asked, “Roman, can I ask you something?”

Roman looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “Um, sure.”

“What- what are you going to do if we can’t free your brother? If the animus gets away?” Virgil asked quickly.

“I’ll try again, of course!” he said, clenching his fists. “I’ll try however many times it takes.”

“No, I mean, what are you going to do if you can’t save him? Ever?”

Roman’s eyes widened as he realized what Virgil was asking. “I- I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. If he was being honest with himself, he was terrified at the prospect of failing. If he couldn’t save Remus, what else was he going to do? Go back to being a prince? How was he going to explain to his kingdom that their beloved champion was dead?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that!” Virgil said, his eyes widening in horror when Roman didn’t elaborate.

Roman bumped his shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s important to think about, anyway.”

Virgil glanced at him. “I guess.”

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Frost suddenly cried out in triumph. Roman’s head snapped up and he winced as something in his neck cracked.

“Who’s screeching?” Virgil mumbled tiredly. He yawned and stretched his wings, accidentally whacking him in the face.

“I’m not screeching,” Frost grumbled. “Anyway, we finally have a plan!”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “We may have an idea on what to do,”

Roman stood up and stretched. “So let’s hear it.”

.

The next morning, Roman set out on his own to be used as bait.

Well, technically he wasn’t alone. Frost was flying over head, prepared to act as a distraction if needed. Patton, Logan, and Virgil were hidden somewhere among the dunes, acting as backup if anything went wrong.

It was strange, being away from other dragons, even if for a short time. Frost was barely visible among the clouds, and Logan, Patton, and Virgil were nowhere to be seen.

Roman stopped a short way from the ring of cacti that stood in front of the cave, running the plan through his head again. 

It was fairly simple. Roman would stand in front of the cave, hopefully luring Remus out. They would then surround him, and Roman would take the earring and break the spell. If everything went smoothly, the animus wouldn’t take notice of a random SkyWing standing at his doorstep.

Roman took one last look at the sand dunes around them before stepping closer to the cave. He tried to keep his wings from shaking, but he was sure he hadn’t succeeded.

He stepped into the ring of cacti, eyeing them warily as if some sort of trap would spring from them. His head snapped toward the cave as he heard heavy breathing coming from it.

One moment he was glancing skyward, wondering if Frost had sensed something amiss, the next he was thrown into the ground, winded.

He coughed and attempted to stand, but his attacker was on him in an instant. He looked up to see blank white eyes staring back at him.

Remus dug his claws into his shoulders, and he gritted his teeth. He struggled, but Remus had an ironclad grip on him.

Claws closed around his throat and he struggled to breathe. Remus dug his claws into his neck, drawing blood. He could feel it trickle down his scales.

Suddenly, the weight was lifted. He coughed and choked, rubbing his neck before looking up to see Logan deftly avoiding Remus’s attacks.

Logan ducked as Remus swiped a talon at him, then whirled around with his jaw wide open, fangs aimed at Remus.

Roman’s eyes widened. “Logan, no!”

Logan looked at him, startled. While he was distracted, Remus tackled him to the ground.

Before Roman could move, Frost dove onto Remus from above. The two clawed and bit at each other, trying their hardest to tear each other apart. Roman looked on, feeling helpless.

“Roman!” he turned around to see Patton and Virgil running up to them. “You’re bleeding!” Patton said worriedly, stopping just in front of them.

He reached up to the cut on his neck. “It’s just a cut,” he said absently.

Virgil’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Behind you!”

Without looking behind him, he dove to the side. Remus landed in the place he had just been a moment before, but instead of attacking him, he leaped at Virgil.

“Virgil!” He dove in front of Virgil before Remus could get to him. “Snap out of it!” he shouted, but his cries fell on deaf ears. Behind Remus, he watched in dismay as Frost leaned heavily on Logan. He would have to act quickly if he wanted no one else to get hurt.

Roman reached for the earring, but Remus snapped his teeth at him. He growled and stepped back. Remus had been the SkyWing champion for years. There was no way Roman could beat him in a fight. As he stood indecisively, Remus snarled and pounced at him, pushing him onto the ground. 

Roman grunted as he landed on his wings awkwardly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Virgil move forward to help. “No! Stay back!” he shouted. He wasn’t sure why Remus had gone after Virgil instead of him, but Roman was not going to let Virgil get hurt.

He aimed for the earring again. It took a few tries, but he finally managed to get a hold of it. With one forceful tug, he ripped it off his brother’s ear.

Remus roared and clutched his ear, stumbling off of him. He struggled to his feet, watching Remus carefully. He could see blood dripping from where he ripped the earring out. Remus had his back turned to him so he couldn’t see his eyes.

“R-Remus?” he said hesitantly. He didn’t get a response.

Then, almost too quiet to hear. “Roman?”

Roman gasped. He stepped closer, limbs trembling. “I’m- I’m here.”

Slowly, Remus turned, and he finally got a good look at him.

His sash was in tatters, his claws dirty, and he was bleeding from several wounds, but his eyes were normal and that was all that mattered.

Roman felt himself smile. “You’re okay!” he exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his wings around his brother, still not quite believing this was real.

Slowly, very slowly, Remus hugged back.

He was dimly aware that he was crying, but he didn’t care. He had his brother back, and that was all that mattered.

Remus pulled away, quickly wiping away his own tears. “Bet you want an explanation now, huh?”

Roman shook his head. “I do, but… not right now. I- I thought you had done something terrible, Rem.”

Remus’s smile fell. “I-”

“Interesting. I didn’t think you would free him so quickly.” a voice from behind them hissed.

Roman whirled around and his eyes widened in horror. 

The animus was standing at the mouth of the cave.

Roman spread his wings and motioned his friends to stay back. “Don’t come any closer!” he growled at the SandWing.

The animus stared at him quizzically, then chuckled. “You misunderstand me completely. I only want to talk.”

Roman snarled. “Like hell you do. How can you possibly explain putting that spell on Remus?”

“Roman, stop,” Remus said, stepping up beside him. “Just… hear him out.”

He folded his wings in and stared at Remus in shock. Roman had never heard him sound so serious in his life. “But… why?” He was the one that put a spell on you, right?”

“It’s more complicated than that.” Remus wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Virgil stepped forward, baring his teeth. “I don’t care what he has to say. We may have avoided the future where Patton dies, but I don’t trust him. What are we waiting for?”

Roman nodded. “Right. Remus, I’m sorry, but-”

Faster than he could blink, the animus moved and was suddenly holding a knife to his throat.

“Alright, since none of you are willing to listen to me, we’ll just have to do this the hard way,” he said, digging the knife into Roman’s skin just hard enough for it to sting. “You let me take Remus and your Prince into my cave to talk, or I’ll slit his throat.”

To Roman, he whispered, “I’m not going to hurt you or your brother. Just get your friends to leave and I’ll explain everything.”

“What are you doing?” Remus cried. “You better not hurt-”

“Just trust me,” the animus hissed.

Remus hesitated before nodding. “Fine. But if you hurt him, I’ll flay you alive.”

“Understood.”

Meanwhile, Roman’s friends stood frozen to the spot. Frost crouched like she was going to pounce, though she looked like she was going to fall over any moment. Logan’s frill was bristling. Patton’s wings beat furiously. Virgil just stared in shock and horror, his eyes glued to the knife at Roman’s throat. He wanted to tell him that everything was okay, but he wasn’t sure it was.

He gulped. Could he trust this SandWing? He looked at his friends, then back to Remus. If Remus of all dragons could trust this animus, then he could too.

“I’ll be fine!” he called. “You don’t have to worry about me. Just go!”

“No way!” Patton said angrily. “We’re not leaving you with him!”

“He could be under a spell,” Frost snarled. “The animus could be controlling what he’s saying.”

Roman looked desperately between his friends. He racked his brain for something to convince them.

“Wait, hold on.” he started to dig around in his bag until he found it. He took the skyfire and tossed it at Virgil. He caught it, looking confused,

I’m not under a spell! He mentally shouted once he had Virgil’s attention.

Virgil flinched and brought a talon to his head. He stared at Roman, fear mostly replaced with puzzlement.

Just go! I’ll be fine! He thought to Virgil. Trust me. And, in case he wouldn’t get a chance to later, he added, I love you.

Virgil’s eyes widened. He nodded slowly. “We should go,” he said to the others. “I- I think he’ll be fine.”

Patton furrowed his brows. “Are you sure? What did he say?”

“N-nothing important,” he stammered. “Let’s just go.”

One by one, they lifted off into the sky. The animus waited until they were out of sight before he put the knife back into his cloak.

He motioned to his cave. “Let’s head in, shall we?” without waiting for an answer, he walked until he was swallowed up by the darkness of the cave. Remus picked the earring up off the ground before they followed.

The inside of the animus’s dwelling was surprisingly cozy. A small kitchen took up most of the cave. A stone table was squeezed into a corner with a couple of chairs shoved against the wall next to it. Two tunnels branched off on either side of the cave, most likely leading to more rooms.

“You must have many questions,” the animus said. He moved into the kitchen, pouring tea into a small cup. He set them onto the table. “And I promise to answer as many of them as I can, but you may want to ask your brother what happened first.” he took a sip of his tea, staring at them expectantly over the rim of the cup.

Remus sighed. “It all started when I heard rumors of an animus living out here. I sought him out and asked for a… favor.”

Roman shivered. “What kind of favor?” he asked. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Remus finally met his eyes. “I wanted to get rid of Queen Scarlet.”

Roman was silent for a moment, struggling to find the right words. “Wh- why? She made you her champion! You… were the favorite twin.” he hadn’t realized he was so bitter about it, even though he knew how awful she was.

Remus shook his head angrily. “Roman, you don’t get it, do you?” when he didn’t reply, he added. “I wanted to get rid of her for you. I saw how upset and scared she made you, so I looked for a way to get her off the throne.”

Roman stared at him. “F- for me? But… how did it go so wrong?”

“Roman, you wouldn’t happen to know what a wish dragon is, would you?” the SandWing said, making him jump. He had been so quiet Roman had forgotten he was there.

“N- no, I haven’t,” he replied. “What’s a wish dragon?”

“They’ve had many names in the past, like Dreammakers and Realityshifters, but they’re all the same thing,” the SandWing said, setting down his cup. “They’re like animus dragons, but… different.”

He took a deep breath. “A wish dragon’s magic works differently than an animus’s. They don’t need an object to enchant, or even a dragon.” he lifted a talon, staring at his palm. “Just a wish.”

Roman looked at his brother. “What- what did you wish for?”

“I told you, to get rid of Scarlet.” Remus replied.

“Then, how…”

“It’s not as simple as just making a wish,” the SandWing said. “There’s always a curse to the wish, something to balance the scales. Remus only wanted to get rid of one queen. He ended up trying to kill them all.”

Roman looked at the earring that Remus had set on the table. “If you don’t need an object to enchant, why did you enchant the earring?”

The wish dragon sighed. “I don’t know. Perhaps I hoped someone could break the spell. I don’t actually know the curses before I cast a spell, so I didn’t know that it would turn out this bad.” he nodded at him, and Roman wondered how exactly the SandWing lost his wings. “I’m just glad that someone stopped it.”

Roman looked at his brother and suddenly burst into tears, pulling him into another hug. “Y-you d-didn’t have to,” he choked out between sobs.

Remus tightened his arms around his shoulders. “I know, but I wanted to. Moons, I wanted to do it for ages. If there was a way to do it sooner, I would have.”

They stayed like that for a while until Roman stopped crying. He pulled away, wiping his eyes.

The wish dragon cleared his throat awkwardly. “You two should get going. I’m sure your friends are very worried about you.”

He led them outside. Night had fallen, and Roman was surprised at how long they spent down there. Virgil’s probably freaking out. I hope they’re okay.

As the wish dragon turned to leave, Roman said, “Wait! We never got your name!”

The wingless SandWing paused, contemplating the question. “Janus,” he said finally. “My name is Janus. Don’t go telling everyone that, alright?”

Without waiting for a reply, Janus disappeared back into the cave.

“Janus, huh?” Roman said, lost in thought. “You think we’ll see him again?”

“I really hope not,” Remus said unexpectedly. “He seems nice and whatever, but I don’t think I want to mess with wish magic again.”

“That’s strange, coming from you.”

Remus smirked and punched him in the shoulder. “First time for everything!” he suddenly lifted off into the sky and hovered in place. “Race you back!”

Roman tilted his head. “But you don’t know the way back!”

“I’ll improvise!”

Roman laughed and took off after him, relishing the feeling of being in his brother’s presence again. 

“Not if I get there first!”

.

Virgil was waiting for them back at the tunnels. He jumped as they touched down on the sand and narrowed his eyes at Remus.

“You made it back,” he said to Roman. He sounded casual, but Roman could hear the relief in his voice.

Roman smirked. “Were you worried?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You w-”

“Holy moons, what are you?” Remus interrupted.

Virgil blinked. “Excuse me?”

Remus circled him, muttering to himself. “You’re like a NightWing but… not.”

“Oh. Um, I’m half SeaWing,” Virgil replied, eyeing Remus uncomfortably.

“Hey Remus, why don’t you go introduce yourself to the others?” Roman said, sensing Virgil’s nervousness.

Remus looked at him and Virgil and smirked. “Alright!” he said cheerfully. “Have fun!”

He hopped down the hole, leaving Roman and Virgil alone.

“So, um, what happened with the animus?” Virgil asked, avoiding his gaze.

“I think I want to tell the entire story where everyone can hear it.” Roman said. “What’s wrong? You look all gloomy.”

“I’m not-” Virgil took a deep breath. “Did you mean it? When you said- or thought? Back at the cave?”

Roman tilted his head, feeling his face heat up. “Of- of course I did.” he took Virgil’s talons in his, hoping he wasn’t overstepping.

“Oh well, that’s good,” Roman could feel him relax. “It would’ve been awkward if you didn’t.”

Roman chuckled. “Oh? And why’s that, Stormcloud?”

Virgil looked down at his feet. “Because I love you too or whatever,” he mumbled, almost too quiet for him to hear.

Roman wrapped his wings around the smaller the dragon and twined his tail around his. “Yeah. That is good,”

Virgil looked up at him. “But… you’re a prince. How-”

“I don’t want to think about that right now,” Roman said, resting his chin on Virgil’s head.

Virgil sighed. “Alright.”

They stayed like that in comfortable silence for a little while, until they heard a loud thump beneath them.

“We should probably go check on the others.” Virgil mumbled into his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Roman agreed, reluctantly pulling away. “Hopefully, Remus is getting along with everyone else.”

He turned and jumped through the hole, Virgil close behind him. They squeezed into the tunnel to see Remus and Frost wrestling in the middle of the cave while Patton tried in vain to stop them. Logan looked on tiredly.

“Woah, what are you doing?” Roman cried, running over to them.

“Oh, hey Roman, Virgil.” Frost nodded at them from her spot on Remus’s back. “I wanted a rematch. As you can see, I’m winning.” she let him up, giving him a smug look.

“I’m glad to see that you are safe,” Logan said, giving him a small smile. “Would you care to tell us what happened?”

Roman glanced at his brother, who shook his head slightly. He nodded back. “Perhaps I’ll tell you all in the morning? I’m exhausted, after all.”

“That’s alright.” he didn’t miss the way Logan’s voice sank in disappointment.

As they all prepared to settle down for the night, he pulled Remus aside. “Are you alright?”

Remus snorted. “I’m fine! Why do you ask?”

“It’s just… you’ve been through a lot these past few weeks,” Roman said. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Remus sighed. “I’m fine. I don’t remember most of it anyway,” after a short pause, he said. “Can I see the earring?”

Roman brought a talon to his bag. “The earring? Why?”

“I just need to see it,” he said. “The spell won’t work anyway, it was a one use thing.”

Roman reluctantly pulled the rose earring out of his bag and handed it to Remus. He studied it for a moment before putting it on his uninjured ear. Roman held his breath, waiting for his eyes to go white, but they were still the same dark green.

Remus grinned. “See, I told you I would be fine!”

Roman smiled in return. “Never doubted you for a second.” he tried to sound reassuring, but secretly he was worried. Remus sounded too casual, too unworried about something as serious as this. At least, he did until he noticed Remus’s tense shoulders and shaking wings.

“Hey Roman, are you coming?” Patton said from the other side of the cave.

Roman looked at where his friends were settling down for the night, then back at Remus. Though he was the biggest of them, he suddenly looked so small in the light of Patton’s torch.

“Actually Patton, I think I’m going to stay here with Remus,” Roman said, glancing at his brother. Remus looked at him with a grateful expression.

“Oh, alright.” Patton said. “Good night, both of you!”

The two brothers curled up back to back like they used to do when they were dragonets. Roman could feel Remus relax as he fell asleep. 

Roman sighed. Maybe not everything was perfect. They definitely had some things to talk about in the morning.

But he had his brother back, and that was all that mattered.

.

“Ah, home sweet home, isn’t it?” 

Roman glanced at Remus. “Well, it’s not sweet, but it's certainly a home.”

After freeing Remus, they had decided to come back to the Sky Palace while Virgil and the others went back to the island. Queen Ruby had welcomed them back with open wings, so here they were, walking the halls of the Sky Palace once again.

“So, what’re you planning on telling our dear sister?” Remus asked. “Not the truth, I hope.”

“No. Not the whole truth, anyway,” Roman said. Hopefully, she believes it.

They stopped right outside the throne room. Roman took a deep breath, and, before he could change his mind, walked in.

The throne room had changed in the time he was gone. Half the gold on the walls was gone, and so was the giant portrait of Queen Scarlet that used to hang behind the throne.

“Your Majesty,” Roman greeted as he bowed. Remus did the same.

“Prince Roman and Prince Remus, I am glad to see that you are safe,” Ruby said. She sounded nothing like Queen Scarlet. “Do you mind telling us who the assassin was?”

He took a deep breath. “The assassin was a SandWing animus, Your Majesty.”

Gasps and whispers erupted around the room. Ruby held up a talon for silence. “How did you manage to kill an animus dragon?” she narrowed her eyes. “You did kill the assassin, right?”

“Y- yes, Your Majesty,” Roman said quickly. He could feel the eyes of the entire court on him. He wondered if they could tell he was lying. 

“Well, I for one would love to know that story.” Ruby said, leaning forward on her throne.

Roman swallowed. “Remus was the one who killed the assassin.”

It took all his willpower to keep looking ahead, even when Remus glanced at him quizzically.

Ruby’s eyes widened. “I’m impressed. In any case, both of you are welcome to stay-”

“I’m not staying.”

He could feel the stare of every dragon in the room on him, but he kept his eyes on his sister.

Ruby’s eyes narrowed, then softened just as quickly. “I- if you no longer want to stay here, then I understand. You’re welcome back in the Sky palace if you ever change your mind.” she nodded at them, and they were dismissed.

Roman and Remus bowed one more time before they turned and walked out of the throne room.

Remus was the first to speak. “I’m an animus slayer, huh? I like the sound of that.” Roman opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut as they walked out onto the balcony overlooking the arena.

Well, what used to be the arena. Queen Ruby had turned it into a hospital, but no matter what she turned it into, nothing could erase the smell of death that was all too familiar.

“I can see why you want to leave,” Remus murmured, joining him on the balcony. 

Roman nodded. “Are you staying?”

Remus contemplated the question, drumming his claws on the railing. “No, I don’t think so,” he said at last.

Roman glanced at him, surprised. “But… you’re the champion!”

Remus nodded at the arena. “Not anymore. Can’t really have fights in the arena if it’s a hospital now,”

Roman hummed in agreement. “So you’re coming to the island with me?” he tried not to show the hopefulness in his voice.

“Of course, brother!” he patted him so hard on the back that he almost fell over. “Who else can keep up with me?”

Roman brushed him away, laughing. “You have a point. You’d be so bored without me!”

“Um, Your Highnesses?” A voice from behind them said.

He whirled around to see a SkyWing dipping her head to them. “There are guards in your room waiting to help you pack your belongings.”

Remus glanced at him. “So, what do you say? Let’s get out of here.”

Roman grinned. “I’d like that.”

.

“Hey, Logan, have you decided yet?”

Logan turned to see Frost walking up to him.

He turned back to the ocean. “I have not, actually. Perhaps I’ll make up my mind tomorrow.”

“That’s when you go back to the rainforest, right?” Frost asked, sitting down beside him.

“Indeed.” for the past few days, Logan has been staying on the island with the others. He was enjoying his time there, but he knew he would eventually have to return to his duties.

“W- well, I hope you choose to stay,” Frost said, staring down at her talons. The water lapped at her claws, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Logan glanced at her, surprised. “Really? I was under the impression that you didn’t like me.”

Frost chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, uh. Sorry about that. But for the record, I think you’re pretty cool.” she glanced at him. “Uh, no pun intended.”

Logan blinked at her, not sure what to make of that. “Uh, thank you. I think.”

Frost nodded. “No problem.”

They sat in silence for a while, watching the sun set. The sand squelched beneath his talons as wave after wave lapped at his claws. It was soothing.

“I do appreciate your… input,” Logan said, breaking the silence. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Frost patted him on the shoulder, causing him to stumble. “You’d better. And even if you do choose to stay in the rainforest, come visit us.”

Logan offered her a small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind as well.”

He turned toward the sunset again. He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but the decision making could wait for another day.

For now, he was content to sit with a friend and watch the sun set.

.

Frost was beginning to regret her decision. 

The others had insisted that she didn’t need to go, but she needed closure. She needed to confront her father.

The past few days had been spent trying to find a way to talk to him without being spotted by other IceWings. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. Her father hadn’t changed a bit.

The snow crunched under her talons as she landed. It was strange to be back here, but not unpleasant. She squinted at the sky as the figure of her father flew overhead.

Scratch that. It was definitely unpleasant.

She waited for him to see her, though she knew it wouldn’t take long. Her father’s vision was sharper than an eagle’s.

Within moments, she was standing in front of her father again. He was bigger than she remembered, with a neck longer than one of her arms. He had dark blue triangles like her own under his eyes and along his wings. The scowl on his face was all too familiar.

“So, you came back.” the disappointment in his voice wasn’t new either.

“I’m not coming back,” she said defiantly. She forced herself to stop trembling. “I just want to know why you did it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Did what?”

“Pushed me so hard to be the best,” she said. “I was at the top of the rankings, youngest member of the royal guard, and yet it still wasn’t enough.”

Her father growled. “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

Frost dug her claws into the ground. Somehow she knew he would say that.

“Now, give me one reason I shouldn’t turn you in to Queen Glacier right now,” Her father said.

She narrowed her eyes. She knew he was going to ask that question. “Because bringing me back will not only lower my rank, but yours too. Especially if I tell her what I’ve been doing while I was gone.”

Her father growled. “You’ve gotten it all figured out, don’t you?” he lashed his tail. “Your mother would be-”

“Mother is dead.” she hated the way her voice cracked as she said it. “Mother is dead,” she repeated, more steadily this time. “What she would think doesn’t matter because she’s gone.” Frost walked up to her father and jabbed a claw at him. “So don’t even think about playing that card.”

He snarled and slapped her talon away. “I’ll turn you in,” he threatened. “Queen Glacier won’t lower my rank if I’m the one who found you. I’ll get a patrol right now and-”

“And what?” she interrupted. “There’s no one here. By the time you get back, I’ll be long gone, and no one will believe you.”

“I could beat you in a fight without trying,” he said. “I could bring you back by force.”

Frost felt her breath quicken. This was what she had been afraid of. “But are you?”

Her father regarded her with soulless black eyes. “No,” he said at last. “Get out of my sight. I never want to see you again. You’re a disgrace to the IceWing tribe.”

Those words shouldn’t have hurt her, but they did. It was as if he had plunged a spear into her chest.

She didn’t let it show, though. Without replying, she took off into the sky. When she looked back, her father was gone.

She frowned and continued to fly.

She had to admit that that didn’t make her feel as good as she thought it would. She just felt more… hollow, which didn’t make any sense.

She shook her head and continued to fly.

Frost definitely regretted her decision.

.

Patton winced as he stepped on yet another piece of wood. He stopped to pick it out of his palm, then moved on through the debris. 

The wreckage of his boat hadn’t changed one bit.

“Back again?”

Patton jumped and whirled around. Virgil was lounging on one of the bigger pieces of wood.

“Oh, Virgil! What’re you doing here?” Patton said.

“I figured you’d be here,” Virgil replied. “I couldn’t find you anywhere else. And I know it’s not my place to ask, but-”

“Of course you can ask kiddo!” Patton interrupted, walking up to the younger dragon. “I actually wouldn’t mind some company right now.”

Virgil blinked at him, then looked around the wreckage of his boat. “Still trying to figure out a way to get home?”

Patton sighed, feeling his heart sink. “It’s been much too long, Virgil. I was sent to get help, but who will? This continent’s got its own problems.”

“You know, we could help if you want us to,” Virgil said hesitantly.

Patton smiled sadly. “I can’t ask that of you. You don’t want to get tangled up in this web.”

Virgil still wouldn’t give up. “At least let us help you find a way home!”

Patton nodded reluctantly. “Alright.”

He decided not to point out that if they succeeded, Virgil would probably never see him again. He was sure Virgil was painfully aware.

“Do you really think we can do it?” Patton asked after a moment.

Virgil hesitated then nodded. “I think so. One day.”

Patton turned back toward the ocean. Toward his home. 

One day. One day, I will set this right.

.

Virgil rolled the smooth rock around in his palm as he stood on the beach, staring at a distant island.

“Hey Stormcloud, what’re you up to?” Roman announced himself loudly, plopping down beside him. Even sitting down, Roman was taller than him, much to his annoyance.

“I was just about to go visit my mom,” Virgil replied, holding up the rock. He leaned into Roman’s side as he lifted his wing.

“Oh,” Roman said, staring at the rock. “Do... you want company? I’m not busy or any-”

Virgil shook his head, glad Roman couldn’t see the smile on his face. “I’ll be fine. I try to visit her every month, so I’m used to it.”

“Oh,” Roman said again, folding his wing into his side as Virgil pulled away. “How long will you be gone?”

“Not too long,” Virgil said, standing up and touching his nose to Roman’s. He spread his wings and flew into the air. “Tell Patton where I’ve gone, will you?”

Roman nodded.

Virgil turned and flew in the direction of the distant island, clutching the rock close to his chest.

He touched down on the ground and walked over to where his mother was buried. The spot was marked by a tiny gravestone that was etched with his mother’s name. The ground around it was littered with rocks and shells, gifts from past years.

He stepped closer to the grave, careful to not step on any of the shells. Despite what he has told Roman, he always felt a fresh wave of grief come over him everytime he came here.

His mother would have absolutely loved his friends. Logan and his politeness, Patton and his bubbling optimism, Frost and her snarky sarcasm, Remus and his disturbing stories, and Roman-

She would have loved everything about Roman.

Virgil sighed and set the rock down on the pile. “Hey mom,” he started, but stopped when he felt his throat close up. He was always upset whenever he visited her grave, but this time felt… different. Maybe it was the fact that he finally made other friends, and it felt like he was leaving her behind. He just wished he could tell her everything that had happened.

Well, maybe he could try anyway.

“Hey mom,” Virgil said, more steadily this time. “You wouldn’t believe the adventure I went on…”

.

Remus stood at the edge of the cliff, turning the rose earring around and around in his talon. The ocean tore at the rocks below relentlessly, the gray liquid looking more like ice than water. The wind buffeted his wings and threatened to throw him into the sea.

He stared at the earring in his palm. He had searched for Janus for months before he found him in the Scorpion Den. Janus had put the spell on him, and the rest was history. 

Or was it? Remus thought about the lie Roman had told Ruby. They thought he was a hero. It left a bad taste in his mouth.

He wondered how they would react if they knew the truth.

He shook his head and clenched his fist, the earring digging into his palm. The earring had been a gift from Roman for his hatching day a few years ago. He wasn’t sure why he had kept it, other than the fact that he knew Roman would be upset if he got rid of it.

He opened his palm and studied it. The rose was blood red and intricately detailed. Thorns surrounded the flower, wrapping around the base and hanging off the side. It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry Remus had laid his eyes on.

And he never wanted to see it again.

He threw it off the edge of the cliff, watching it hurtle toward the water. He turned and walked away before he could see it crash into the sea.

That was one thing taken care of.

.

Roman looked around the beach, smiling as he saw his friends having fun. Frost and Remus joked and laughed together while Patton and Logan built a sand castle.

“What’re you doing here all by yourself?” Virgil asked as he sat down next to him.

He lifted a wing and Virgil leaned into his side. “Just enjoying the view,” he said, smiling at Virgil.

Virgil rolled his eyes and swatted his arm. “Stop that.”

Roman chuckled. “So did you fix up your hoodie?”

“I had to spend all afternoon fixing it,” Virgil complained, resting his head against Roman’s shoulder. “Turns out you end up having to fix a lot of holes in your hoodie when you fly across the continent looking for an assassin.” he paused for a moment. “How is Remus doing anyway?”

Roman looked at his brother, who was in what looked like a heated debate with Frost. “He’s not completely back to normal, but I think he’s doing okay.”

Virgil sighed in content. “That’s good. I haven’t talked to him much, but he seems cool.”

Roman nodded. “Yeah. He is.”

“Hey Roman!” Frost shouted. “We need your opinion on something! It is very important!”

Patton giggled. “Better go see what they want!”

“Please,” Logan said tiredly. “They’ve been arguing for hours.”

Virgil laughed, prodding him with his wing. “You better get going, Your Highness.”

Roman huffed. “I’m going, I’m going.” he acted annoyed, but he could barely stifle a grin.

Maybe not everything was perfectly okay, (The rose earring was gone, for example. He wondered what had happened to it) but all his friends were alive and happy.

And that was all that mattered.

[heli0s-writes]

There Must Be*

Summary: Steve ponders religion on a wintry Sunday morning.  Pairing: Steve x Reader A/N: 2.1k words. Smut. Fluff. Tenderness with just a wee bit of Angst. Inspired by Arcade Fire’s “Good God, Damn”. I’ve been writing a lot of sacrilegious and Bucky stuff so here is something in the opposite direction lol. Steve needs love, too. :)

The soft glow of Sunday morning wakes Steve. A faint fluttering. Quiet rustling of branches in the breeze, as if hushing themselves. He rubs his eyes gently, brushing the sleep out of them, wiping the loose lash he feels tickling his cheek.

Tiny movements. Delicate and careful. Not even the blanket rustles to life any more than for half a second as his hand finds its way faithfully back to its former position. Warmly, tenderly, calloused palms and pads return to the softness of the arm over his chest, squeezing for just a second because he can’t help himself.

A happy sigh trills its way out beneath his chin, hot breath on his bare chest and he smiles, closes his eyes, stops himself from grabbing that arm again and rousing the lover so peacefully dreaming there.

The room is chilled, bleak in the way a winter morning feels with the seeping cold of the outside finding its way in to wrestle with the warmth. The light from the window is blindingly white— sun rays reflecting the starkness of the snow to dye it all in a shade that borders blue.

Steve is hot, as he always is. That molten magma core inside of him burns like a furnace and radiates like the sun. It’s the only reason why in the dead tundra of a New York January, he’s waking up with his clothes on the floor.

Well, not the only reason.

Last night was the reason.

An extra-large pizza, a spilled cylinder of parmesan cheese, a wrong soda accidentally delivered by a young teenage boy, and a retro record player.

A new album. Your new monthly fixation. Tracks four, seven, and nine are the best. The rest, even better. The intro? Beyond space and time and reason and rhyme, no sense in how or why she can be so good.

A triangle of thin-crust pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, and banana peppers. Extra sauce. All shoved into your mouth as you spoke around the crunching.

You’re gonna love it. Perfect sleepover party music.

He made to comment, sleepover? But then the guitar strummed smooth and turned electric. The singer hummed and vowels crackled to life in her throat. Your foot tapped along to the beat and you grinned at him— thirty seconds in and your eyes were already wide and wondering.

He had only laughed, swallowed a mouthful and nodded along. Epithets of longing and yearning— loving in a modern age. Silvery voices harmonizing in the air of the apartment.

An album listen party, you called it. Even if it’s between two people, it’s still a party if you put your mind to it, Steve. There was a lively debate then, jibes exchanged about what you meant— if he lacked imagination in your mind, because he doesn’t. You scoffed, peeling a pepperoni off the slice in his hand and putting it in your mouth.

Not imagination, conviction.

And then a new train of thought embarked— a prod at him because before the pizza was ordered there was an argument about toppings and the debate over pineapple or not almost ruined the night. He sputtered a sound in response, but you quickly shushed him with a hiss between your front teeth. Annoyingly cute.

Your eyes are closed now, like last night when you bobbed along, mouthing the words, lips curled into a mischievous smile he longed to kiss.

He felt bad in the beginning when those thoughts surfaced. You were always friendly and sweet, silly, too. Playful, cheery, happy to be affectionate and kind and happy to receive care from others. He particularly loved your way with Bucky. Cautious only for his sake, but eager to befriend and attentive to small cues.

It was easy to fall for you.

It was easy to ask you to have coffee—outside of the Tower. Away from the monitoring and the stiff atmosphere of a job. It was easy to ask you to go steady, even if he blushed all over and you teased him afterwards because going steady was a dated term.

  The light settles on your face, your arm draped over him, bare shoulder above the comforter—that little cluster of freckles he thought was perfect.

Just perfect. How is it that you are so perfect?

“Steve?” You mumble dreamily, eyes still closed but moving behind the thin skin, coming alive.

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

A fluttering of eyelids, vision regaining and struggling to focus. A squint. Your brow furrowing slightly as you take in the room. Warm gray walls, wood framed art, mahogany bookshelves. A room that isn’t yours.

He smiles, traces the line of your jaw with a crooked pointer finger and listens to your heartbeat jump around in your chest.

Sunday morning and he’s waking up with a beautiful girl in his arms. Steven Grant Rogers, who couldn’t get a woman to look at him until he was twenty-six, used to pray on Sunday mornings that he wouldn’t get so ill and maybe grow a few more inches.

Then his prayers changed a little— he just wanted to be drafted, to defend his country, follow the fight like every other good American boy.

Then they were a rush of frantic liturgies through those wartime years— survive the serum, please Lord, keep me safe, watch over Bucky, and then, Lord, hear my prayer. I know I won’t make it out of this plane. Send my love to Peggy. Give her a long and happy life. Amen.

When he woke again, his faith had been rocked. He should have been bolstered by another chance at life, but he hadn’t been sure. It seemed wrong to be who he was—enhanced, different, a disfigurement of humanity itself.

  “Um, good morning.”

Your cheeks warm against his chest, and you tuck your face down into the space next to his ribs. He’s never seen you so shy.

Last night was close—tentative-- there was a slow kiss that suddenly turned quick. Your hand that was resting over his skimmed up his shirt and then both of you were undressed before the last track could begin.

The lights were dimmed, pizza finished, soda shared, a glass of wine stood empty on the table. Your exact words as you poured it had been Italian food goes best with red wine.

And Steve had laughed. Sweetheart, delivery pizza?

It goes best with boxed wine!

The mismatched pair of your undergarments were delicately hidden by your arms across your body—a pink sports bra and a striped yellow pair of boy shorts, faded and a little loose at the waistband. Your cheeks burned red when he observed the way the top clung to your chest, the way the hem of the leg squeezed your thigh.

I—I didn’t plan o—on...

The asymmetry was an endearing testament to the moment. Spontaneous and sporadic, fueled only by a sudden desire to touch and be touched by him. It excited him even more to know that instead of lacy lingerie and perhaps your splayed and posed form on a bed, you were showing him this.

You, just in the shape you are in, unencumbered by pretense, with a shy smile and a tummy full of butterflies migrating into him, too.

  “Last night was... um... really great.” You bury your face down into the sheets, rub your forehead into the mattress and he laughs when your hair tickles his side.

“Yeah. It was.”

  Last night had seen a part of Steve Rogers’ soul pulled apart and branded into your body. His lips memorized every inch of your skin, stretching out the desire for as long as he could because damn him if the first time might disappoint you. He heard himself whispering in the fog of his mind, while he tried to balance the sensations of your taste on his lips, your whimpers in his ears, and your skin pressed against his.

God, if you’re there—if you’re real--- if this is a dream... let me stay. Let me grow old here and wake here and love her here for the rest of my days.

Steve hadn’t quite thought about his maker for a long while. Other things occupied his mind more than the pondering of a creator and a purpose. Time hardened him and loss steeled him. But your easy smile and pop playlists cracked the veneer of Captain America right through and he was glad for it.

His new and strange life was still strange, but it became sweeter at least. Confusing, alien-invaded, super-powered, and all.

Steve’s fingers brush through your hair lovingly, smooths the sleep-crumpled side down. Against his palm, you make a pleased noise and your body flexes and scoots closer along his side. He’s highly aware of your soft breasts on his ribs, your thigh over his, your hip digging.

He can’t help himself. The hand trailing down to your neck moves on its own, chasing for more of the softness that split him open and soaked him in bliss. A gasp as his sheets slides down, revealing both bodies to the brisk air. He warms you with his large hands, running his palm from your stomach to your chest as he descends between your legs. He hangs off the edge of the bed, but it doesn’t matter much. He’s preoccupied now with only one thing.  

It’s Sunday morning and he’s making love to the most beautiful girl in the world.

You whine and exhale into his touch, arching that softness into his mouth where he is most eager. Your toes curl and he reaches with his other hand down the length of your thigh and calf, wraps his fingers around your ankle and massages you there, too.

“Steve…” Your voice is barely louder than a whimper, “Come up here.” You tug your foot from his grasp and tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him up until he’s hovering over you with a grin. He kisses your neck and places his forehead to your collar, savoring the moment he pushes in.

Hot bodies in the cold blue of winter. Faint squeaking of the bed, muffled breath, pleading, pretty words from your lips. Oh God, Steve. Steve. Oh…

You are dazed and smiling, biting a tiny bit of your lower lip as you tip your head back on the pillow. He leans further, burrows deeper, and tries to memorize the way your face looks like this— happy, breathtaking, pleasured by him. Your ankles hook around behind his back and you dig your heels into him a little more, urging. He’s deep, he’s so deep, but he fulfills your request and plunges more until there’s nothing left between the two of you.

Your eyes are shut in ecstasy, throat constricting on a dry swallow as you squeeze him in pulses, body quivering while he drags himself out and does it again and again. He’s lost in the warm velvet space inside of you, shuddering too on the edge of oblivion. Steve tries to slow down, tries to see that look again on you, but you’ve returned from the high and pinch him playfully on the arm.

He can’t help himself. You’re gazing at him so affectionately, mouth curled into a smile, lips pressed together and then against his in a brief and chaste kiss. An innocent gesture sealed over the background of his complete unraveling. He rocks one more time.

Oh, God.

It just takes the one, and he’s crumbling to pieces, hiding his face in your hair, gasping into the sheets and hoping that you’ll still look at him once the siren song of morning fades. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous, but suddenly your hand is stroking the back of his neck and wiping away the sweat that’s collected at the tips of his hair.

“I love you, Steve.”

It’s so simple, uttered from your lips without pretense just like last night. You make room for him, rolling over on your side. Your eyes flutter again, fatigue lulling you back to the warmth of sleep under blankets. He laughs and then laughs again when you bristle irritably at the noise. Over the edge of the mattress, he tugs the comforter up and back in its place, letting the glimpse of your shoulder peek at him like before.

Sunday morning, and Steve Rogers is kissing the top of your head, heart so full of love he could burst. He wishes he could go back and tell himself back there, with his knobby knees glued stuck to those old church pews—just say, it’s gonna be okay, pal. It’s gonna be hard and terrible, but it’s gonna be okay.

He’s questioned it for so long, but after this, after knowing you and your love, he feels a little more certain.

There must be a good God, if he made you.

-

tags: @whothehellisbucky @serpentbaby @badassbaker @alagalaska @cake-writes @crist1216 @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan

[nose-bandaid]

bloom ✿ pt.5 — jonquils

Kino (Hyunggu) x (female) Reader | flower shop AU

february 27th jonquils — love me, sympathy, desire for affection to be returned

introduction | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | epilogue

taglist: @yunwoo​

feel free to send me an ask or a dm if you wanna be added to the taglist:D

=====

You didn’t see Hyunggu for almost two weeks after the rose incident, and as you expected, you didn’t get a single message back from him either. While you reasoned with yourself that he most was most likely just not in the need for flowers (a reasonable explanation), a part of you worried that he would never visit again. What else were you supposed to think? He literally disappeared from your life without a word, and his friend’s comments didn’t make the situation any better.

By now, you were coming to terms with the fact that things between you and him had died down, and channelled more focus onto your work in hopes of getting over the reoccurring thoughts of him. It wasn’t worth it. Clearly he wasn’t going to make a move anytime soon (and neither were you, really), and so you decided that it would be best for you to just put it aside and think about more important things instead. Your messy feelings could wait.

Today your shift started later than usual, and you were able to score yourself some extra sleep and a good lunch — a nice change from your usual morning shifts. And to be honest, you felt pretty content despite all of the worries running around in your mind. Refreshed and relaxed, you had a good feeling for the day that was about to come, and happily pushed open the door to the shop.

Only to walk straight into someone.

“Ah—!”

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You apologized, rubbing your nose to ease the pain.

“No, no, don’t worry about—“

You locked eyes with the person in front of you and felt each other freeze for a moment.

“Oh... Hyunggu... Hey.” You gave him a quick smile and the person standing beside him let out a shocked gasp.

“You’re the girl right?”

“Excuse me?” You turned to the other voice and took in his appearance. He was stunningly tall with a noticeably broad posture which for some reason, made you think of the small tree you had growing in your backyard. Maybe it was the hair? Or maybe his shoulders? Or the way he looked at you with his lost, curious eyes? Whatever it was, you had to stifle a giggle at the thought and made a mental note to take another look at the tree when you got home.

“Y/n, was it? You’re the girl that Hyunggu never stops talk—“ The person in question was quick to cover the tall boy’s mouth, loudly shushing him.

“Shinwon if you don’t shut your mouth right now—“ His muttering trailed off into a harsh glare.

Not wanting to stay in the awkward conversation any longer, you slipped past the fighting friends. As you scurried away from the scene, you locked eyes with Seungkwan, who was currently pruning some of the bonsai trees and immediately melted in comfort at the familiar face.

“Hey, Boo.” You greeted, and the other ceased his detailed trimming to give you a wave. From the looks of it, he hadn’t noticed the little encounter you had at the entrance.

“Hey! How have things been?”

You looked behind you at the two boys who were now talking to each other in hushed voices. “Er... Same as usual I guess. You?”

He gave you an exasperated look and picked up the shears again. “Josh was dumb and didn’t tell me that I had some orders to complete, so guess who’s overloaded with work today!” His cheerful voice dripped with the feeling of apathy, devoid of emotions. “Do you mind taking care of the customers for a while? I was waiting for you to come before I went to the back.”

As much as you didn’t want to interact with Hyunggu at all, you couldn’t say no to Seungkwan’s request. The poor guy seemed so stressed that day, you ushered him away from the bonsai without any second thoughts. Giving you a quick hug, he made some last arrangements to the plants before bustling his way to the back with a huff. 

You stared at the plants and childishly hoped that they would strike up a conversation to keep you busy, but they refused to say a word (as they should). Sighing to yourself, you decided to at least pretend you were doing something. Anything to occupy your restless attention.

You didn’t know how you were expected to react to suddenly seeing Hyunggu out of the blue, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t expecting to see you either. He didn’t even seem like he wanted to be here in the first place, and you wondered why he risked this visit after putting so much effort into avoiding your messages. 

Despite trying your best to just focus on the task at hand, you still ended up watching their movements in the corner of your eye. They continued to argue for a couple more minutes and then finally decided on some flowers to settle with. Panic filled your body with every step they took towards the counter up until the very last step that took them to the front and the other boy — Shin... Shinwon was it? — glanced your way. You didn’t know how many minutes had passed since Seungkwan left you, but you silently hoped that it was enough for him to come back and save you from this situation.

Though of course, not everything you wish for happens so easily.

“These are jonquils, right?” A curious voice pulled you out of your sulking, and you followed the finger that pointed towards the yellow flowers sitting on the table nearby.

You looked at the tall boy in surprise, most people would’ve just thought they were daffodils and called it a day (which wasn’t exactly wrong, but it wasn’t exactly correct either). “Yes they are! Not many people are able to identify them like that, I’m impressed.”

He shot you an embarrassed look as you reluctantly made your way over to the cash. “I was up ‘till 5 am watching youtube videos... and let’s just say you can learn a lot of things within a span of five hours.”

“I see.” You hummed. The conversation died down and the rest of the exchange was done in silence. Every so often, Shinwon would give Hyunggu a knowing glance and you waited for the latter to say something, but he didn’t even utter a single word of goodbye before leaving. His friend, on the other hand, returned your confused look and apologized for some odd reason, before tagging along.

You just stood there, watching the two boys cross the street before disappearing behind a corner. As they did, the clouds in the sky passed over the sun, casting an ominous darkness over the shop.

“The weather’s a bit gloomy today isn’t it?”

You bit back the harsh words you wanted to throw at Seungkwan for arriving right after the moment you needed him. The weather wasn’t the only thing that was gloomy right now, but you also knew that it wasn’t his fault that you were in this situation. You swallowed down the spite building up in you.

“Yeah, it sure is.”

He seemed to have sensed your distant tone. “Everything alright? The plants didn’t bully you did they?”

You laughed at the coincidence, if only the bonsai had started a conversation with you a while ago, then maybe you’d have something better to talk about. You pondered over your response for a second.

“You ever just really want to see someone, but at the same time, you silently hope you wouldn’t run into them anytime soon? Like that awkward, I-want-to-spend-time-with-you-but-also-not, kinda feel?”

He hummed at your question. “I think I know what you’re getting at.”

“Do you, now?” You quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

“Yeah, so there’s this really cute barista at the cafe down the street at my house, and when I say cute, I mean really cute. Anyways,” He dismissed your giggles at his passionate description.”I went there yesterday ‘cause, you know, I need my iced americano to get through the day. The last time I saw this barista, I dropped my wallet and spilled my change all over the ground because I was so caught up in looking at—stop laughing—looking at the way she seemed so cute with the bow she had on. Guy behind me got mad for holding up the line, but like, whatever cause I made her smile! Which was amazing!”

He paused for some dramatic effect.

“...Until I spilled my drink onto the counter when she handed it to me. So then, now not only was she smiling at me but now she was LAUGHING at me. She still made me another drink but I didn’t think I would be able to look at her in the eye for the rest of year. But then guess what? Of course she has to be the only one at the cash when I went yesterday, and of course, she remembered me for the incident.” He groaned and muttered into his hands. “I didn’t even get her name or her number, I just ran out when I got my drink.”

You looked at him with a mixture pity and amusement in your eyes. Seungkwan never failed to brighten your days, no matter how gloomy they may be. His positive attitude followed him everywhere, work included, and you were grateful for that. 

“Not to make this about me though, sorry about the rant.” Finally recovering, he gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Is everything ok with you?” He repeated.

You nodded absentmindedly. “You know what — yeah, everything’s alright. I think I just needed to get my mind off some things and your rant helped with that. I’ll figure it out eventually.”

The two of you shared a brief smile until he spoke up. “Okay, then how about we go grab ourselves come drinks at that cafe when our shifts are over? I’ll treat you for the help back there, and maybe it’ll help you distract yourself.”

“You really don’t have to do that—”

“Hey, c’mon, what are friends for? Besides, we haven’t really been able to catch up on each other for the past while. I miss hearing about all the tea you have to spill.” He nudged your side gently and you finally gave in with a happy sigh.

“Okay, okay, sure, let’s do that.” You agreed, which earned you a smile of approval.

As you watched him check out the results of your work on the bonsai trees (they were practically his children, so he was pretty picky on how they looked), you began to wonder to yourself — will it ever be possible for you to be more like him? Seungkwan always kept his composure along with a positive mindset, and you were a bit jealous of his ability to put things behind him in order to move forward. If only you could do that with your case with Hyunggu...

“If we do run into that cute barista though,” He suddenly piped up. “I’m giving you the responsibility of getting her name and number for me. That’s my only request.”

“Is that so? Then I might as well be the one taking her on a date then, if I’m going through all that effort.” You smirked, feeling much better after your chat with Seungkwan.

“Wha—Y/NNNNN!”

=====

hi please look forward to part 6, i’m truly grinding these updates hehe;)

[moonstruckbucky]

Come Over (4/7)

Summary: You’re new to New York City. Fresh out of post-grad and wanting a change of pace, and this change comes in more ways than one.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader. Neighbor AU.

Warnings for Chapter: A lot of cursing, a lot of italics, and a lot of football talk. (Ya girl’s a NE fan so.)

Series Masterlist //  Main Masterlist

“Bucky, Sharon, this is my brother Clint and my best friend, Sam.”

The words are acrid as you say them, your throat constricting as if it wants to choke them back down. But you don’t, and you ignore Sam’s pointed look when you mention the words “Bucky’s girlfriend”.

Following your embarrassing event in the hallway, face aflame, you’d repeated your question, this time directing it at both of them rather than just Bucky. Sharon had agreed, and though you plastered on a smile, there was a sinking feeling in your gut. She’s nice enough, from what you’ve seen so far. But there’s an underlying tension between you.

At Clint’s, she plants herself between you and Bucky every chance she gets—in the kitchen as you socialize and on the couch when the game starts. You’re not dumb; you know she feels some sort of discomfort with you and Bucky being friendly with one another, and you idly wonder if this is who he’s always arguing on the phone with.

At first it’s uncomfortable sitting beside her and not saying a word, but then the beer and the excitement of the game kicks in and you kind of forget she’s there, she's so quiet. You, on the other hand, are on your feet with your brother and Sam and surprisingly Bucky, all yelling obscenities and orders at the players on the screen.

“Where’s the fucking flag?” you holler, gesturing at the TV. When the game continues with no penalty, you and Sam collectively groan. “Helmet to helmet and there’s no goddamn flag? These fucking refs!”

“That’s what you get when you support cheaters,” boasts Clint with a smirk. Bucky whistles lowly as you slowly turn a murderous glare to your brother.

“Careful, brother,” you warn, leaning across Sharon, who leans back as if you have an infectious disease, to point threateningly at Clint. “Don’t start a war you can’t finish.”

Clint cups his hands around his mouth and taunts, “My sister supports the Cheatriots.”

“Listen,” you say, rising from your seat again to tower over the group. Sam has his arms crossed and a look that says you’re gonna get it, Bucky watches on with wide, curious eyes, Sharon looks as if she’d rather be anywhere else, and Clint merely waits with a teasing smirk and his arms crossed. “Spygate? Witch hunt. Honest mistake, whatever. It was bullshit. And goddamn, motherfucking Snowplowgate was a pathetic excuse at cheating. And Deflategate was the biggest crock of shit to ever grace the NFL. Clearly nobody at that piece of shit organization has any idea what a goddamn fucking gas law is or how it even works! “May have been aware”—bullshit! Brady missed four games and they still won the goddamn Super Bowl.  The Patriots haven’t done anything any more sacrilegious than any other team in the NFL. They just get the most shit because they have integrity and they win. Six rings, asshole, count em and eat shit.”

Sam mimes a mic drop and a glance at Bucky shows he’s impressed, eyebrows raised high and icy blue eyes sparkling. Sharon looks between the two of you and you feel your face heat. Clearing your throat, you scoop up your beer, drain it, and step around the couch to head towards the kitchen.

“Excuse me.”

Unsurprisingly, Clint has followed you in; you can hear Sam and Bucky talking and laughing through the entryway. He leans against the counter next to the fridge as you dig around, shove a few chips from the bowl in your mouth.

“So I think Bucky just fell in love.”

You nearly choke on your chip as you sharply inhale. Coughing harshly, you wash it down with your newly opened beer and wait for your eyes to stop watering.

“Excuse me?”

Clint smirks and shrugs. “You heard me. Home boy looked about ready to propose.”

He’s speaking low enough that you won’t be heard, but still you crane your neck to look over his shoulder into the living room. Bucky and Sam are now sitting side by side on the couch, Sharon on the end scrolling through her phone. None of them seem to have heard anything.

You grunt. “You’re full of shit.”

He grins and shakes his head once. “With the way he was looking at you? No way.”

“I think you need your eyes checked, brother.” 

“Oh are we discussing the way Bucky practically undressed Y/N with his eyes after her tirade?” chimes Sam as he enters the kitchen. You hurry to shush him, slapping a hand over his mouth as you cast another look into the living room. Bucky and Sharon sit stiffly on the couch, exchanging hushed but frenzied words if Sharon’s expression is anything to go by. Bucky’s shoulders are tense as he leans his elbows on his knees, the taut muscles straining against his navy long-sleeve. 

What you don’t notice is the look that passes between Sam and Clint, matching smirks curving their mouths as you watch Bucky and Sharon in the midst of an obvious argument. You chew the inside of your cheek as Bucky leans back into the couch, shoulders relaxing, but only slightly. Sighing through your nose, you turn back to your brother and friend.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what we were discussing,” Clint finally answers with a cheeky little smile to which you roll your eyes.

“Whatever, guys. You both need your eyes checked. Pronto. Maybe your heads while you’re at it.” Behind you, they scoff, and you lead the way out of the kitchen.

Even without having witnessed an argument between the couple, you can feel the tension. Fortunately, halftime is over and the game resumes, just barely cutting through the negative atmosphere. Soon, you, Sam, Clint, and Bucky are all yelling at the television again.

Halfway through the fourth quarter, it’s a tie game and Sharon’s phone goes off. She checks it and begins to rise from the couch.

“I have some work to do,” she announces, shoving her phone back in her jacket pocket. She turns to Bucky, “We should go.”

He looks imploringly up at her and gestures to the TV with his beer. “There’s only eight minutes left. Can we stay? Or I’ll catch up to you? I just want to stay to the end.”

It unsettles you, the way he asks her, the trepidation in his voice. As if she were a bomb about to go off and not a person. You keep your gaze averted but your ears are open, as are Sam’s and Clint’s.

“I really think it’d be easier if you and I left together, James. I’m sure Y/N will tell you the outcome later.”

Though you can’t pinpoint why, the tone in which she says this has your grip tightening on your bottle. Just a fraction so that it’s unnoticed. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Bucky stare her down for a few beats too long before he sighs, sets down his beer a little harder than intended on the coffee table, and stands up.

Disappointment floods you, and you hope it doesn’t show on your face when Bucky announces they have to leave. Sharon’s watching him like a hawk when he says goodbye to Clint, Sam, and finally, you, leaning over you to hug you—if you can call it that. He barely touches you, and you know it must be because Sharon’s narrowing her eyes at the two of you. He straightens, shoulders and smile stiff, and then the two of them are gone.

“Aight,” Sam says a few moments later in the quiet of the living room, “I’m just gonna say it, she’s such a bitch.”

“Wow, she sounds like a bitch,” Wanda observes the next day at work. You’re on lunch in the cafe on the bottom floor, and you’d told her all about your interesting weekend. Like your brother and Clint, she’s convinced Bucky has a thing for you despite his...wonderful girlfriend. 

“You’re telling me. Obviously she’s got some insecurity issues going on. She would not let me near him at all. I thought she was going to burn holes in my head when he hugged me goodbye.”

Wanda grimaces and sticks a French fry in her mouth. “Yikes. You said you hear him arguing a lot? You think it’s with her?”

Snorting, you nod with an incredulous expression. “I’m almost positive it’s her. I can never hear exactly what he’s saying, but if yesterday was anything to go by, they fight a lot. Poor Bucky. He’s always so nice. How could he be with someone so...not?”

“Maybe they weren’t always like that, you know? Maybe this is all a recent development.”

You hum thoughtfully, eyes losing focus as you zone out for a few minutes. Your Stark watch beeps, signalling the end of your lunch. Sighing, you stand up from your seat and Wanda follows. After dumping your trash, you head back to the elevator.

Truth is, you feel bad for Bucky. And for Sharon...kind of. But only in the way that something has happened to her to make her see anyone and everyone as a threat to their relationship. It isn’t healthy, and you know Bucky’s smart enough to know it, too. But what could you do? You aren’t close enough with him to advise him to end it, and sitting idly by while she controls him feels wrong.

You think so much and so hard about it you get a headache. Fortunately, you have enough work on your plate to keep yourself occupied.

Later that evening, back in your apartment, you’re about to settle in for the new Dateline episode with a glass of wine when an all-too-recognizable moan is heard through the shared wall of yours and Bucky’s apartments. You grimace at the same time your heart drops, and you pull heavily from the wine glass and turn up the TV.

If at all possible, Sharon seems to get louder, more high-pitched the higher your volume goes. 

Guess they made up, you type bitterly to Sam. Sharon’s wailing like a banshee.

You know it’s another territorial move on her part, and you can’t help but wonder if Bucky knows that as well. He’s far quieter, so much so you can’t even hear him over the whines of Sharon.

Your phone pings.

Awkward, Sam types back, need to escape?

Tempting. But I have an early start tomorrow.

Your date with Dateline gets cut short when they go for round two.

The next morning is...awkward, to say the least. Bucky’s dressed casually, no doubt for work, while Sharon hangs off him in the doorway. She’s giggling, and even Bucky has a grin on his face. When he notices you walking towards them, eyes pointed straight ahead because it’s awkward enough having heard them last night, his face goes bright red. You wait for the elevator, foot tapping and mind silently telling it to hurry the hell up because you really don’t want to be stuck in an elevator with Bucky.

But luck is not on your side and you hear his door close just as the elevator doors slide open. Bucky’s feet thud on the hallway carpet as he jogs to catch the elevator, and you’re almost ashamed to admit you very nearly press the ‘Door Close’ button on him. But he shoves an inked arm through and slides inside, leans against the wall adjacent to you.

He’s still as red as a tomato as he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his boots. The air in the elevator tense and thick and it nearly makes you choke. Your heart thuds in your chest as you shift from foot to foot, even pull out your phone and scroll through social media in order to escape the awkwardness.

“I, uh, want to apologize if you heard us last night,” he stammers, that blush of his creeping down his neck and up to his ears. He’s rubbing the back of his neck when you glance over at him, give a small shrug to play it off like you’re indifferent. “Sharon can be...passionate.”

Internally, you wince. Didn’t really need to know that. But instead you respond with, “Glad you two seemed to work out whatever was up with you on Sunday.”

Bucky flinches and frowns deeply, taking to scratching at the light stubble on his jaw now. “You noticed that huh?”

He sighs when you nod. “Sharon’s…away for work a lot. It kind of puts a strain on things.”

For reasons unknown to you, you feel a small rise of irritation as the elevator touches down on the ground floor, and you sneer, “Well, I’m glad you both have the passion to sort out your issues.”

You can tell Bucky’s watching you wide-eyed and confused as you saunter out of the elevator, and even you can’t quite tell where the urge to snap at him had come from. His ignorance to acknowledge his girlfriend has security issues? The fact that he’d kept his neighbor up until almost midnight sorting out their issues? Or perhaps it’s just your unreasonable, growing jealousy that Sharon gets to know what he sounds like under those particular circumstances. Gets to see every expression that passes over his face or the way his body reacts to minute little teasing.

God, you’re so fucked.

Chapter Five

[oh-theatre]

Consistent

A/n: HI HEY I WROTE FOR THE INTRUALITY BFFS AU I HOPE YOU ENJOY! Uh basically just a few things from across the au, its probs confusing so ask me questions :DD and ill answer. But ye! Let me know if you want more okay BYE IM SORRY ITS BAD ENJOY

Words: 1860

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, therapy mention

Pairings: Logicality, Demus, possible prinxiety

Summary: Just some moments from across the Intruality bffs au!

“Elevate a little higher!” Remus sings, Patton chuckles but nudges him to quiet as weird looks glance their way. Apologizing with his eyes he continues working away, Remus whispers next to him, bobbing his head to the music. “Throw a party in the-” 

“Could you not?” A voice from across the room begs, a smirk hidden by a bite from Remus. Pattons blush quickly appears as he pops his head out from behind his friend. “Oh! Patton” Logan notices, both sharing a rosy tint to their cheeks.

“Just get married” Remus mumbles, pretending to focus on his math. Patton coughs, turning back to his computer, Logan scratches the back of his neck, patting away the sweat with his handkerchief. Roman bites back his own laugh but says nothing. “Play ‘Frozen two’, I wanna listen!” Remus pleads, a sweet affection as his eyes push forward.

“Its your phone and airpods?” Patton hands him the device, a giddy shuffle as Remus starts the playlist. Both instantly feel more triumphant as they continue their work. “Show yourself!” They sing together, fits of laughter as they dance. Logan once more goes to shush the pair but finds himself endeared with the boy. They had come to expect these antics, when all six had been put into the same study hall they knew chaos would ensue. Dee looked on, watching Remus butcher every last note as his own music blasted in his ears. 

“Hey, broadway!” Virgil lashes, Remus turns, an innocent perk to his ears. “Maybe shut up so Dee and I can focus?” He spits, Remus obliges but only after he sticks out his tongue. Winking slyly at Dee, the more quiet. “God, hes worse than his brother” Virgil mutters, erasing roughly at the problem he had failed to do. 

“Its fun V” Dee admits, his own foot matching the rhythm of his music. “Plus lets be honest, its Friday, no one is actually working” He continues his silly doodles across his homework, knowing he can finish it in two minutes. Virgil huffs but keeps quiet, the distraction too much. 

“Be right back” Patton whispers, taking his laptop towards where Logan and Roman sit discussing their psychology classwork. “Can i?” He wonders, Logan hiding his excitement nods. “I had a quick question about our recipe?” Patton sits, Logan listens. “I was wondering if you wanted to tak-” He pauses as the music in his ear shifts. 

‘I just had sex!’ Rings out loud, Patton's eyes grow wide quickly turning to Remus. His idle face as he conceals his giggles looking at his work. Logan tilts his head but Patton simply removes the device, recovering from his fright.

“Your question?” Logan repeats, Roman mimics his brother with his own dancing. 

“I was thinking we could maybe take it a step further?” Patton proposes, knowing how anxious Logan was about his culinary abilities. “A pastry tree, we start with bigger ones on the bottom and slowly work our way up! So we can experiment and give the judges different options” He finishes, the sweetest of smiles.  Logan wants to argue, find a problem but his plan worked and worked well for their grades. 

“We can try” He decides, a quick grin and Patton leaves once more. Silent punishment to Remus when he returns to his seat. The class continues and ends fast, they all part to lunch, gathering in their separate areas.  

~~~

“You good lego?” Roman asks as he unpacks their chairs from the locker, Logan snaps back from his distant stares into the bleak plaster. He nods taking his seat, his eyes setting upon a very hyper Remus and Patton as they prepare for their meal. “Hey Virge” Roman greets, Virgil and Dee join them, a quadrant of four chairs forms. As usual…

“What's up with nerd central?” Virgil asks, snapping in front Logans face. He shakes his head returning once more. Virgil follows his gaze however, biting back a knowing smile, Patton already sunk into his book as Remus lays his feet across the boys lap. “Ya know, I heard that they were dating” He puts out, Logan snaps his eyes, fear ridden.

“Hah! Please, Remus and Pat?” Roman laughs, sitting down with a shake. “Thats hilarious, Remus and Patton are best friends and anyway Remus has a huge crush on Dee” He adds, munching into his sandwich. Dee rolls his eyes, a soft kick to Romans knee. 

“I know, just wanted to see what glasses over here would say” Virgil teases

“I assure you, I could care less about Pattons romantic status” Logan adjusts his glasses, sitting neatly eating his food. Virgil and Dee share a glance but leave it be. “We should invite them to sit with us, they are our friends” He offers, no qualms could be made. They did consider the pair friends...so what was the problem? 

“Sup losers” Ethan kicks his chair into the circle, forcing his way between Roman and Dee. 

Ah right…

Ethan

~~~

“Easy Remus!” Patton urges watching his friend balance atop the table trying to hang the valentines decorations. The door opens, Logan accompanied by Roman, Dee and Virgil strut in. “Remus get down” Patton asks, Roman chuckles, a sweet squeeze to Patton as the group passes them. “Tell your brother hes being an unsafe” 

“Just say idiot” Roman corrects, Pattons expression changes as does Remus’s. He removes himself from the table, returning to his spot behind the desk in the library. Roman sighs, dragged away by Virgil. Patton sits next to his friend, softly kicking his friends chair.

“You're not an idiot” He assures, Remus nods, burying his head in his arms. “Ro’s your brother, its his job to make fun of you” Patton comments, Remus huffs wishing the insults wouldn't go so far. “Come on rum-rum” He hums, Remus giggles, frustrated with his resilience. “Come help me please and then we can go home, watch a movie, make snacks, build a fort” He says, laying his arms and head on Remus’s back. The idea sounds wonderful, but hes not sure hes up to it...just yet. “Oh and dont forget we have therapy today” Patton reminds, Remus groans. He knows its helpful and he gets to do it with his best friend but the idea terrifies him. “I know you dont want to...but its going to help” Patton encourages

“Fine, on one condition” Remus decides, annoyed with his friends walking eggshells around each other. Patton faces him, furrowing his brows in question. “You have to go up to Logan right now, kiss him and then ask him to be your valentine” Remus dares, Patton squeaks almost knocking over the books behind him. 

“What!” Patton exclaims “You cant be serious! Youre not actually leveraging therapy over my valentines right now” 

“Do it or you'll be flying solo” Remus leans forward, Pattons breath seizes as he swallows looking towards the said target. “Hmm” He sighs, wistfully looking away. Patton shuts his eyes tight but snaps.

“Fine” He barely whispers, Remus cheers pinning delighted in his chair. 

“Have fun!” Remus grins watching Patton walk away, so much hesitance to him. Patton wrings his hands as he approaches the group, Logan spots him a formal smile to the boy. He stands to meet Patton halfway, Patton takes a deep breath. 

“Pat-” No time, he takes Logans tie, only tugging softly as he pulls the boy into a kiss. The absolute silence that falls over the room save for Remus’s disbelief, is frozen. Pattons heart pounds until suddenly Logans melting right into the kiss. 

And its perfect, its absolutely everything Patton had dreamed of

He pulls away in a frantic panic, forgetting what he was doing. Logan clears his throat, dusting himself off. Neither dared to move or speak, they simply stared in delighted confusion.

“Will you be my valentines?” Patton remembers the deal, Remus pounds hard on the desk through his exasperated laughter. “Im so sorry” He rushes, ready to turn away in his shame, feeling a soft hand take his. “Im sorry im not thinking straight” Pattons fear drips out of him, feeling the world grow silent with the simple pound of his breath.

“Ever! He's not straight!” Remus calls out, shushed by Dee. 

“I would love to be your valentine” Logan replies, a soft tone just for them. Roman and Dee erupt into cheers, Virgil nods satisfied as Remus waste no time running into his friend. Embracing the petrified boy, Patton still believes he's dreaming as Remus hugs him. “And you don't have to make a deal, I would have done it regardless” Logan adds, Remus falls to the floor much to happy.

“You told him!” Patton cries, Remus can barely nod. 

“He just texted me” Logan shows, Patton's face surely matched that of a tomato. “I'm glad however, it was taking too long” Logans coy expression only set Patton's heart a flutter.

“Motherfucker!” Remus stands, taking Patton from behind, the teens feeling safe in one anothers hold. 

“Yes good point” Patton murmurs, Logan chuckles. One more quick peck to Pattons cheek before he returns to his friends. “I'm gonna faint”

“Do it coward, you wont” Remus dares, still nuzzling into Patton's shoulder. Patton locks eyes with Dee, tuning out the silly teases from Remus. 

“Dee would you like to be Remus’s valentine?” Patton inquires, Remus falls silent. “Sucks to suck” He jokes, patting Remus as he returns to his position. Dee stands, ignoring the eyes that now watch him. Remus stutters failing to connect a coherent sentence. A hushed conversation and the pair meet in the hallway. Returning moments later, now words spoken but their interlaced fingers said enough. 

Suffice to say, Patton and Remus had a very good first session.

~~~

“One cold brew for you” Remus presents as Patton approaches the locker, Logan accompanying him in the early morning. He takes it, the most grateful look upon his face, Logan yawns. “Goodest of the morns Logan” Remus smiles, Logan nods through his exhaustion

“Coffee starlight?” Patton offers, Logan moans in happiness taking the caffeinated drink. Remus laughs sitting comfortably in his chair, kicking Patton in a rhythm. The boy doesnt mind, hes used to the fidgets and it didnt hurt. 

“Pickles did you do the homework?” Remus questions scrolling through his computer, Patton sets up his chair, taking his coffee from Logan. He gestures towards his own locker, Patton nods a quick kiss goodbye.

“Gonna have to be specific” Patton says, allowing Remus to lay his feet across him. Remus shows his computer screen, Patton checks the work and nods. “You got it” He assures, Remus fist pumps, shutting it happily.  “Wheres Dee?” Patton wonders, going over his schedule for the day. 

“He had an early test so I dropped him off, but we’re having dinner later for valentines” He smiles, Patton smirks. “Happy one year by the way” Remus celebrates

“You too” They cheer their drinks, falling casually into their conversation. The pair joke and laugh through excitement for the day, cheer and the musical. Everything felt right...for now. I mean it was senior year who knows what might happen.

At Least this, was solid and consistent.

Them

Their friendship