#so now I’m changing 25k words of tenses

[lunar-years]

So today I opened up the word doc for the royjamiekeeley fanfic I was writing a year ago but never finished. And it is 25k words, and a not insignificant amount of that is just Roy and Jamie watching fast & the furious.

[seyenna]

Philza and/or Techno and/or Ranboo fic recs

just some of my fav dsmp fics, mainly phil, techno or ranboo bc i’m biased but also a bunch of sbi and others

this one goes out mainly to zablr discord my beloved

pls tell me if the links don’t work

all of these are on ao3

rating\status(complete/ongoing)\warnings\word count\misc tags

ichor flows free amongst the iron by summer_rising

T\o\violence\13k\series\gods AU

Summary:

A gods and goddesses AU of the Dream SMP, dramatized for all our benefits.

First work:

  "Two gods meeting on a mountaintop overlooking the stormy sea? Very classy, Dream, I appreciate your taste."

  Dream didn't turn to look at him, but the faint shake of his shoulders let Techno know he had heard.

  "Scar's healing up nicely, I see," Techno mumbled with a light nod of his head.

  "Mhm. Cut nice and clean. Not that I expected any less from you, of course."

   ~~

   The god of power and the god of luck meet on a mountaintop to discuss Luck's standing in the ongoing political disaster.

We're Only Young by ImperialKatwala

G\o\-\66k\series\Dream & Technoblade

It's easy to forget amid the chaos and bloodshed how similar - and how young - Dream and Technoblade really are.

And when the sun comes up, you'll find a brand new god. by SkyboxZoo

M\o\violence\19k\gods AU

Summary:

The wounds from the fight had healed nigh instantly, but the golden blood still soaked Techno’s shirt. His cloak had gotten torn off and his hair had fallen out of its pony-tail. Ichor pooled in his boots. The man left a trail of golden, bloody footprints in his wake.

old gods (new gods) by WriterWinged

T\o\-\9k\series\gods AU

Summary of first work:

Survival, Blood, Madness. Philza, Technoblade, Wilbur Soot. Three gods who have never cared for mortal life, who play with them when they want to, who kill their toys just as easily. How, then, did a mortal end up in their hands?

This House Is A Fucking Nightmare by SilverWing15

T\c\-\17k\series\sbi

Summary:

AU Where Phil isn't quite as willing to stand by while his sons drop like flies

Summary of third part (my fav):

Does lingering too long in the shadow of a god make you a god? The voices in his head seem to think so.

His brothers know he's older than them but they don't know how much

OR: Technoblade doesn't think his brothers realize how different they are from ordinary men. After all, ordinary men may fight the gods, but they don't win.

It's been a long day. by BecausePlot

G\c\-\3k\Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

Sides are bad: he knows that much. He’s seen it tear people apart time and time again, so when he decided to separate himself from Tubbo and keep his distance, he knew he was in the right.

Well. He thought he was in the right, at the time. Sitting all by himself on the steps to the Prime Path, he’s not so sure anymore.

Yes, the sides might have torn the others apart, might have made them so weak that they have no choice but to fold under Dream’s hand, but at least they aren’t lonely.

So are sides bad?

‘I don’t know.’

~*~

Or, Ranboo looks out at the ruins of L'Manburg, feeling more lost and lonely than he ever has.

But, as he soon finds, he's not as alone as he thinks.

the voices in my head, they say a lot of things by rosyasteria

-\c\violence\1k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

Some days the voices didn’t listen. They didn’t let up. They screamed instead of whispered, relentless, assaulting his ears until they bled.

tell them i was the warmest place you knew and you turned me cold by rosyasteria

-\c\-\2k\Techonblade-centric

Summary:        

Technoblade cared. But in the end it just fucked him over.

For the majority of his life, Techno felt like less of a companion, less of a family member, and more like a weapon to be wielded. 'The Blade' they called him; never 'friend'.

It Leaves Little Time for Anything Else by mirandible

M\c\-\1k\part of series\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

   A young man aims for the top, but fate has other plans for him. So does Technoblade, apparently.

   (Or: answering the question of “Why does Techno hide his scars if they’re supposed to be some sort of trophy? Why keep your point of pride a secret?”)

the best requiem is a bar of silence (and I'll sing it, even if I must hold back my tears) by jello12451

T\o\-\10k\Philza & Technoblade

Summary:

   He can’t help the noise of celebration that escapes him. Techno- this means that Techno’s free, and he got his horse back, and everything is alright-

  Tubbo, filled with rage at Phil’s cheers, turns and impulsively shoots an arrow.

   He doesn’t expect to hit his target.

---

  Alternatively: What if Phil didn't have a bucket of water when Tubbo shot him?

Change fate by being aggressively kind by sircantus

T\o\-\13k\sbi, Philza-centric

Summary:

   “You do understand that you’re caring for the thing meant to bring destruction and chaos to our world, right?” The woman asks, Phil looking behind him fondly as Techno grabs at the ends of his wings.

   “He’s just a child.” Phil answers distractedly, humming as his wings get gently yanked at.

   “He’s the first of three to destroy life as we know it! Shouldn’t we, well, get rid of him?!”

   “Oh, no.” Phil raises his eyes with a sharp glare. “Believe me, I have my own way of preventing the apocalypse.”

   ---

   Or, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy are basically chaotic forces of nature, destined from birth to end the world and bring destruction. Most who hear of the tale of them are trying their best to track them down, and to end the monsters while they’re still young, still just children.

   Phil has a different plan.

   (In which Phil raises the minecraft equivalents of the anti-christ with love and support, so much so to the point where the world ending is really just a funny thought, and Phil has three kids who casually have powers that are bit more extreme than anything else in the world)

I promised you that everything would be fine by findingkairos

G\c\-\6k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

   manifestation: (n.)

1.     an event, action, or object that clearly shows or embodies something abstract or theoretical;

2.     a version or incarnation of something or someone;

3.     an appearance of a ghost or spirit;

4.     the Blood God.

When he's young and still alone, still establishing his reputation as the immortal warrior, Technoblade makes up an imaginary friend.

Years later, the blood god is very real and very much a god: one that is prepared to do anything for their first and only friend.

the inner mechanism of a black box by Bee_4

T\c\violence, self-harm\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

   Technoblade lets himself get imprisoned for Philza’s sake. He doesn’t plan on being there long. Unfortunately, he’s underestimated Pandora’s Vault.

   There are things that will make even the Blade fall apart in due time, as it turns out.

carry all my sins by BananasofThorns

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo-centric

Summary:

Ranboo swallows. “All my armor and weapons and stuff are missing. Fundy and I were gonna go looking for them after the festival, I think.”

“I see.” Tubbo smiles again, but this time it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s just a festival. We could probably find someone to lend you a sword or an axe or something.”

He starts towards the stage, waving at people when they call his name, and Ranboo follows. The original panic has dulled to a cold buzz in his chest, but apprehension still wraps itself around his body like chains. He doesn’t like being without his armor and tools; he feels too exposed, and if something happens, he’ll be helpless.

“Ranboo?” Tubbo calls, glancing back.

Ranboo shakes his head and hurries to catch up. “Yeah, it’ll be fine,” he repeats. “Everything’s gonna be fine."

Tubbo grins. “That’s the spirit.”

Rule 5: be loyal. L'manberg doesn't do well with supposed traitors. Ranboo deals with the consequences.

Sojourn by Lacy_Star

T\o\-\13k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

“Well…” Ranboo started slowly, “You see, uh… I kinda… don’t have a house anymore, obviously. Um… Phil found me in—“ He paused, cutting himself off and squinting at the floorboards— very discreet, “Phil… found me. And… um… He said I could stay by you guys. Like, um, by the dog house he wants to build?” He paused, then began to ramble, “But, uh, if you don’t want me here, I understand— and I’m sorry for coming in your house when you weren’t here, I swear I didn’t touch anything— it was just cold outside and—“

Techno just stared at him. And how, how was this the second time this had happened to him? How was this the second time he returned home after battle to discover an injured teenage boy waiting for him, seeking assistance with nowhere to go? And how badly had that ended last time, in nothing but betrayal and insults?

---

AKA: Phil drags a half-enderman home after Doomsday, and Techno decides that they can keep it. For now.

can an axe count as rent? by aboutfivebees

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

Ranboo’s struggling to settle into his new life on the Arctic Anarchist Commune, but at least he’s got bread.

or the struggles of an enderman hybrid to come up with a housewarming gift to give to his friends, who are just trying to adopt him

The Caged Bird Sings of Freedom by StarPrince_Punk

T\o\-\25k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

The Blade's stance was still tense, his body prepared to fight at a moment’s notice if need be. “What’s your name?” Phil asked “My… name?” The Blade asked. “Yeah. Your name isn’t actually The Blade, right? That’s like a stage name?” Phil tried to keep his tone light. “What’s your real name?” The Blade hesitated. “No one… No one’s called me by my name in a long time.” ------- When Phil comes across Ranboo in his panic room after L'Manberg's destruction, it reminds him of when he first met Technoblade. And just like when he met Techno, Phil's first instinct is that he has to help this kid. While living together, Techno and Ranboo learn that they're much more similar than they had previously thought, and Phil learns that it's not too late for him to be a better dad.

This already feels like more of a home by H3118ENDER

T\o\violence, death\18k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

As the ashes of L'Manberg settle the conflict continues to come to life setting the stage for a new wave of blood shed. Stuck slam in the middle of past and present friends Ranboo is coming to learn that even without nations to their names feelings and feuds don't die but people, people do.

A Shadow of a Shadow by unappetizingegg

T\c\-\4k\ Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

There were a few beats of silence, and then- “What are your plans, now? Do you need a place to stay?”

That caught him off guard. Surely he’d heard incorrectly. Phil was offering him a home, right after he’d orchestrated the destruction of his past one? It didn’t make any sense, none of it did. Why would Phil say that?

Then he remembered, he remembered Techno stopping him in the fight. He remembered being handed his book, the question in Techno’s gaze. He swore, in that moment, Technoblade, the Technoblade, had been worried about him. He remembered that he had been told to leave, to run, to get away and preserve himself. He had spared him, he remembered that Techno had spared him.

Techno had helped him. Phil had tried to protect him, to get him away from the danger.

They were there for him.

 ---

alternatively:

Ranboo is alone. But he really isn't.

Meritocracy by oddsbodkins

G\o\-\18k\Dream & Technoblade, sbi, medieval AU

Summary:

Dream is more successful than he'd ever imagined - but there's one thing that's been bothering him. Technoblade, his biggest rival, the Acolyte of the Blood God and King of the Arena, went missing last spring, just before Dream got the chance to duel him. Without that one achievement to pave his way, all the following victories have felt cheap.

So, Dream hired some goons to dig Technoblade up and pester him into coming back to the Capitol, for one last showdown. Easy enough, right?

Interlude I: "Promises to Keep" by Ozzyyy

T\c\-\1k\part of a series\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

These woods are lovely, dark, and deep But I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep And miles to go before I sleep.

--

Techno has a plan. It's crazy. It's insane, it's actually just batshit bonkers. But if chaos cannot be enjoyed together, then what's it worth, yeah? There's a certain beauty in watching the world burn from the center of the flames. Phil intends to be there.

I Don't Want To Start A Fight (wouldn't you rather start a riot?) by KryOnBlock

T\c\violence, death\15k\Technoblade & Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

An universal ping rang out from behind him, the third and final he knew, and Phil sobbed, clutching the body tighter.

Techno didn’t move.

It always has been Technoblade and Philza, Philza and Technoblade. Take on half, and you shall never go back.

Sheltered by Lulatic

G\c\-\6k\Ranboo & Technoblade

Summary:

It was cold outside. But Techno never heard Ranboo complain.

That was the best excuse he could muster to keep him out.

Antarctic Princes 'verse by BirchWrites

T\o\-\15k\series\sbi

Summary:

Loosely-connected one shots set in an AU where the Antarctic Empire and the Dream SMP are in the same world. Ordered chronologically, but each fic can be read as a standalone thing

Summary of first part:

Oh shit. Forget arrested; Dream’s going to have to tell Wilbur that he watched Tommy get stabbed for being terminally stupid.

May we cross paths again by QueenLunaFreed

G\c\-\1k\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

“Even if tomorrow it’s just us versus the entire server, Dream, I’m telling you right now - I have confidence.”

---

Dream couldn’t comprehend the pacing contradiction in front of him, the weakness he could clearly see, but would never comment on. Because this man has been defying Dream's expectations since they first met, because despite them not being friends and having no reason to trust each other, Dream knew that Technoblade is the only person who he’d trust to do this right. To destroy L'Manberg alongside him yet again, this time for real.

leave me your starlight by findingkairos

T\o\-\18k\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

For you the world, Phil.

Once upon a time, Philza Minecraft is the only person who does not shy away from the bloody teen that regularly turns the tide of war.

This cements a friendship that will last wars, empires, worlds, and lifetimes.

 ---

(Featuring: Back to Back Badasses, healthy relationships, accidental deification, intentional world domination, and Phil's past coming back to haunt his best friend.)

[shemakesmeforget]

fic rec thursday

guess who's back at reading fics? well, after reading something like 500k words in the last two weeks (ik ik) it's safe to say i have things to rec. I randomly picked some of those fics, all carry on, here we go.

Dancing in the Dark by NineMagicks (@ninemagicks)

[rated m/35k/canonverse/angst with a happy ending]

After their disastrous trip to America and subsequent trial before the Coven, Baz Pitch is given an ultimatum: live as a mage with parts of you missing, or as one of them - a vampire. Surprising even himself, he makes his choice and doesn't look back, leaving behind the World of Mages to wander overseas. The aftermath is irrevocable, and change is inevitable.

Five years later, Simon Snow is sent to Prague on a mission by the Coven, to investigate reports of a thriving vampire nightclub... • oh god, the angst THE ANGST, it hurts so good. Lovely post canon fic.

Wanted It To Be You by starwarned (@snowybank )

[rated t/17k/fluff - slow burn]

Simon and Baz are anonymously falling in love online and are unaware that they're business rivals in the real world. • oh the romcom feels, it's very sweet and cute.

The Privatisation of Water by LakeWitch (@eelwinks )

[rated e/12k/college au/smut]

To get Baz off his back about their class presentation, Simon texts back saying he's busy. When Baz presses him further, Simon says he's wanking.

Neither Simon nor Baz expects Baz to text "Prove it."

So, Simon proves it. • The dynamic, the developing relationship, the smut... so so good.

Love, Snow by bazypitchandsimonsnow (ChessPargeter) (@bazypitchandsimonsnow )

[rated t/14k/high school au/fluff]

Baz receives a secret admirer note, and starts the strangest correspondence with someone he doesn't know. How does he deal with this on top of his long standing crush on the football quarterback?

• This is so sweet, they're adorable!

everything with you by nevergonnacallmedarling (superbestfriendsandsoulmates) (@nevergonnacallmedarling )

[rated e/25k/college au/fluff - humor]

Simon and Baz are friends with benefits. (Well, maybe friends is a strong word.) (They’re more like housemates who are more frendly than they used to be and also have sex sometimes.) They both claim there’s no feelings involved, but the line between casual sex and something more keeps getting thinner. • oh damn, i do love friends with benefits or not so friends with benefits, and this was done so well.

Grin and Bear It by sweetasmaple

[rated e/8k/canonverse/fuck or die]

I’m glad the room is dark, and that Snow is tucked safely into his bed, away from me. Because I’m sure I’m flushing beet red, despite my… pale inclinations. I rarely find myself speechless, but I’m at a loss on how to respond. Is he really asking me to do what I think he is?

“Just so I’m sure I understand, the pixie said ‘get fucked’ and now you need somebody to…”

He growls, frustrated that I’m making this difficult for him. But I can’t let myself get this even a little bit wrong.

“‘Get fucked’ means get fucked, Baz. It means I need you to do that to me.”

---

After an unfortunate run in with a pixie, Simon finds himself in an extremely intimate and mortifying kind of trouble. Who else could he possibly turn to other than his lifelong enemy/roommate? • The feelings, the vulnerability! i love.

Keep Calm by aralias (@captain-aralias )

[rated t/68k/canonverse/slow burn]

The kidnapping attempt fails, but it’s not the Mage’s only scheme. Eighth year begins. Tyrannus Basilton Pitch returns for the start of term – and finds his roommate missing. • cannot believe i havent read this one before, i think its the first role reversal i read and omg??? it is so good?? the twists and the reinterpretations are so clever, so well done.

marry me (but no homo) by recycling_bin123

[rated g/17k/canonverse/angst with a happy ending]

“Sometimes,” Simon said, “there will be a trope with two people from rival families. And they’ll hate each at first, but then they fall in love, and their families see that it was stupid to fight and everything is happy in the end. Well, in most of them, sort of.”

“Snow,” Baz narrowed his eyes. He looked tense and poised to fight, “Where is this going?”

“Baz,” he swallowed, “Will you marry me?”

__

Simon has come up with the perfect plot to stop the war between the Mage and the Families. He just has to convince Baz to marry him first. • I enjoyed this so much, i love this trope and it was very sweet and angsty, perfect combo.

[1dsource]

Author Spotlight: thinlines

Don’t forget to show the author to leave kudos and comments to show the author love!

Truth Would Be

Words: 91k

“You want me? I’m not a… a thing to be owned!” Louis stuttered, still very angry and confused. “Hmmm…” The alpha tapped his lips as if he was contemplating something. “Last time I checked, the debt was paid off and the only thing I had asked in return was… you. So technically I do own you.” “You are crazy…” Louis muttered as he began to back towards the door. Harry’s impossibly green eyes turned a shade darker, but his tone was still teasing and light when he said, “Maybe I am…”

The I-paid-off-all-your-debt-so-you-are-mine AU in which Omega Louis wants to be left alone by Alpha Harry but it's super complicated when he starts to not hate the alpha all that much.

Hold the Night For Ransom

Words: 4.7k

“Hate that you make me weak.” Louis whispers it like a secret as he watches Harry tracing his lips. Harry could smell it now. Smell Louis’ delicious slick. He sneaks a hand inside the blankets, searching until they reach Louis’ joggers. Wetness meets his fingertips and he growls, shutting his eyes and seeing the red blossom behind his lids. The bursts of desire. “Is that for me?” He asks, opening his eyes and stare into Louis’.

In which Louis tries to prove he doesn't need his alpha and Harry knows it's a losing battle before it begins.

You are in my Bed, but your Heart isn’t

Words: 25k

It was 3 in the morning when Harry felt the dip of the mattress and tiny hands slipping around his waist. Hot and clammy against his cool skin. He could smell other people on Louis and it stank. Louis reeked of tequila, cigarette and alpha. Always the smell of some other alpha. Harry shifted testily.

"Did I wake you Haz?" The boy plastered behind his back grumbled sleepily. Tiny hands snaking under his shirt, lightly scratching his skin. "You have to stop crawling into my bed when you smell like some other alpha." Harry had meant to say "no, go back to sleep" but he couldn't stop his tongue.

"Don't hate me, Harry. I don't want you to hate me."

OR Rock Band AU. Louis is an omega who fucks around, doesn't know the meaning of "feelings" until he starts crawling into Harry's bed at night. Harry gets jealous easily and they all write a lot of songs about each other.

Promise Me You Won’t Run Away

Words: 23k

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

Or the Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.

Your Touch Shouldn’t Make Me Feel Like This

Words: 28k

Louis was curled up into Zayn’s side as the alpha ran his hand through the omega’s fringe. Harry slowly took in the scene through the fogginess of his brain. His alpha snarled menacingly as he swallowed.

Right.

Louis, his best friend since first day of uni turned roommate after their second year, the only omega Harry had ever wanted and pined after, had an alpha. An alpha named Zayn.

Fuck.

Uni AU in which Alpha Harry has been in love with his omega friend for the longest time and one motorbike trip to the countryside with Louis made him realize that he could no longer hold back his feelings.

Does she know that I touch You?

Words: 4.9k

“You sure about this?” Louis asked gently, tugging on a loose curl. Harry closed his eyes to the touch.

“Yes. Have an affair with me.” He whispered and it was more than enough.

AU. in exchange for Harry to keep his mouth shut about Louis cheating, they made a deal. Harry could only touch Louis when the sun set and Louis kept denying himself the truth.

This was supposed to be Our Summer

Words: 4k

They were going to the same college and they were in love. What more could Harry ask for? Harry had secretly planned a getaway trip to Fiji for the entire summer. He could already see himself strolling down the white beach, holding hands with a sunkissed Louis and making sweet sweet love under the moon. The sound of the ocean waves harmonizing with Louis' pretty moans. But, when he waved the plane tickets in Louis' face, the smaller boy had given him an apologetic smile and announced that he had accepted some part time jobs and that he was probably gonna be busy working. Working for the whole summer. Not lounging and cuddling with Harry under the tropical sun.

Or a Summer AU in which Louis suddenly took up many part time jobs and Harry didn't figure out why until the end

Blue Summer Rain

Words: 2.5k

Harry worked at a shoe outlet for the summer. One day, Louis happened to wonder in. 

throbs and gleams

Words: 3.7k

au. harry rides motorcycle across the country and finds louis in the middle of a desert. 

Not Scared of Love, Just Scared to Love

Words: 3.9k

“Louis.” Harry said to get the other boy’s attention. Louis’ eyes slid from where it was fixed on the scenery whipping by the window to settle on Harry. “Are you… are you taken?” Louis raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” Louis asked softly. “Are you still the same Louis? Who is not scared of love but scared to love?” Harry asked, feeling the tension in his words, feeling the obvious biting anger. Louis’ mouth fell open, surprised at the words. “I’m not scared of love just scared to love?” He parroted Harry’s words, confusion settling in his blue blue eyes.

Or Louis kisses everybody and Harry really wishes he doesn't. Louis doesn't give a fuck but Harry wants him to.

Part 1 of Able to Love

Demons in my brain, Love

Words: 5.4k

Related to Part 1 (Not Scared of Love, Just Scared to Love) This is told from Louis' POV.

"I can kiss, I can fuck, I can make love, to anyone. But after you. I can’t. Not when I am thinking about you. Not when my thoughts reek of you. You are too much."

Or Louis gets his shit together and confronts Harry.

Part 2 of Able to Love

I’m Looking for Closure

Words: 2.5k

Related to Part 1 and Part 2 (Not Scared of Love, Just Sacred to Love & Demons in my Brain, Love.)

“Say you can read my mind.” Harry said to Louis as he pushed Louis down onto the mattress. Louis squirmed as the covers rubbed against his skin.

“I can’t read your mind.” He said simply to Harry as he reached up to put his hands against Harry’s chest, trailing them down to Harry’s narrow hips.

“My mind is saying that I should just… just fucking go back in time. Go back so I could be your first.” Harry said, leaning down to lick into Louis’ hot mouth.

Or They finally fuck, sorry, I mean, make love.

Part 3 of Able to Love

can’t live another summer without you

Words: 1.5k

Louis was probably the reason why Harry came back after four years in America. They climbed a space net together in the dead of a summer night.

A typical sappy stupid idiots in love Summer fic

Under the falling lights, We met

Words: 1.1k

Under shitty fireworks on a beach, with hair dyed red and positively drunk off his ass, Louis never expected to remember much of that night. It was the Fourth of July when he met a boy with green eyes. Everything was beautiful but unfair at the same time. 

I guess we never really moved on...

Words: 1.3k

“You told me I was a god.”

“You were…. You were my little god.” Louis dropped his burnt out cigarette on the ground and stomped on it, crushing it with his shoes.

“Damn it Harry! I’m not a god. Just a spoiled bastard that wants too much.”

as the light changes

Words: 971

“Why are you here, Harry?” Louis didn’t know what possess him to ask such a nosy question and he avoided Harry’s penetrating stare. “I like your voice.” Harry shrugged. “Oh.” “It’s raspy like you haven’t had water for days. Like you are a flower in the middle of the desert that had long ceased longing for rain. Sounds kind of hopeless, but when you read, I think, the world just stops and listens.”

[maybebanks]

Secrets Bring Us Together

JJ maybank x reader

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you whisper to John B.

You had came to his house in the middle of the night. Begging to stay after a fight with your father on your ‘dirty’ company as friends. He wasn’t a fan of the pogues, but they were a light in your life.

“No problem, you want to tell me what happened?” John B asks, eating a slice of bread.

“At home...” you say, trailing off, holding in some tears.

“Your dad?” He asked solemnly, you only answered with a nod. He didn’t have a dad, but honestly there was a part of you that wanted to be in his position.

“You can stay here for 2 days,” he says, tapping your shoulder gently as he passed you.

Your throat goes dry, “Uh-wait, actually...I was hoping to stay a little longer?” you mumble, settling into the couch.

He looks confused, “why?”

“I can..pay rent? Or-please I’ll do anything, I just can’t go home right now,” you plead.

He furrows his eyebrows.

You shuffle through your bag and pull out your wallet, then hand him 2 20s and a 50 dollar bill.

“Here,” you say eagerly, his eyes widen.

“Alright it’s cool, you can stay,” he laughs, “but I’m not taking your money, that’s not how we pogues do it,”

—

You woke up early to make breakfast. John B was still asleep so you started to get undressed.

Suddenly, the screen door swung open.

“Y/n?” I female voice asked, full of surprise.

You grabbed one of John B’s stray button ups and struggled to button it quickly.

“Where did you get all that cash?!” She asks, pointing to the dollar bills spilling out of your bag.

You shake your head, “nothing just forget it.” You has taken a lot of money because you didn’t know how long you would be away from home.

“Did you rob a kook or some-“ Kie starts but you cut her off.

“Please...just don’t tell anyone. Okay? I promise it’s nothing to worry about,” you reason.

She eyes you suspiciously, “I promise,” she mutters.

“Thanks! Your the best,” you say, starting to cook some scrambled eggs.

“What are you doing here so early?” You ask her.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says, sitting down. Picking up a bag of your stuff from under the table.

“You’re not staying here...are you?” She asked.

“No,” you lie quickly, “I just brought over some clothes to change into after the boat today. If they get muddy or something,”

“Okay,” Kie responds.

John B walks out of his room. “Morning guys,”

“John B? Is Y/n sleeping here?” She ask, looking at you as if to express how bad of a liar you are, you roll your eyes.

John B looks at you, “Pft, no! She has her own place,”

“No secrets amongst pogues!” Kie shouts.

Before you can respond JJ and Pope walk in.

“Top of the mornin’ to ya!” JJ says cheerfully, you can’t help but smile at him.

Pope looks confused, “no secrets...what were you guys just talking about?” He questions.

“Y/n is being weird and so is John B,” Kie explains.

“Wait-you guys aren’t like, macking, are you?” JJ says holding a blunt.

“Seriously guys? It’s not a big deal!” You whine.

“Oh my god, you guys are totally-“ Pope starts.

“We are not macking,” John B states.

JJ mimics a blow job with his blunt and Pope laughs.

You quickly grab the nearest item and throw it at JJ.

“Really?” Kie says, not giving up, then explain this!” She says, pointing to your bag of clothes that could last a week.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say, “can we just go surfing? I need some sun,” you say, but your nerves were tensing up.

Pope jumps up and heads towards your bag.

“Hey! What are you doing?” You exclaim as he empties a few things from your bag.

“Searching for evidence...” Pope says.

“Ugh can you not be a nerd for like a second please?” You say annoyed.

JJ gets up and joins pope.

“Guys what the fuck! Seriously, stop! Stop!” You try to reason with the curious boys.

“Guys! I think I found it! The evidence we’ve been searching for!” JJ yells excitedly and everyone raises there eyebrows in anticipation.

Your hands shake nervously.

Suddenly, JJ pulls out a white lace piece from your bag. Your bra.

Pope says, “whoa!” Sarcastically.

And Kie rolls her eyes.

“JJ put that down,” you demand.

“Nah, I think I’m going to try it on, see if it looks as sexy on me as it does on you?” He says raising one eyebrow.

“No, don’t! You’ll stretch it out,” you say, no doubt in your mind that he will actually put on your bra.

He dangles it above your head and you swipe for it, “JJ!” You shout jumping for it. He was taller than you, and your chest brushed up against his every time you jumped up to reach his arms holding it up high.

Finally he lets you have it, laughing at your frustration. You return it to its rightful place, in your bag.

Pope mutters, “aww man!” When the fun ends.

“Sorry Pope, I know it was your first time seeing a bra in all, but I wanna go surf,” you say patting his head and signaling everyone to head out.

Jj and John B laugh at your comment. But Kie, still worried, finally gets up and joins y’all.

—

After a long day of laughing and surfing you all make it back to John B’s place for a movie.

After you all have settled down on the porch, JJ starts up a conversation.

“Guys, I think we should all just dip,” JJ says disappointedly.

“What?” You ask, you knew he was in trouble with the police, and maybe his dad, but it was nothing he hadn’t handled before.

“JJ what about the gol-“Kie starts.

“We lost the G-game, Kie! I don’t even know if things are going to work, I owe 25K as my restitution,” JJ reveals.

Everyone is in shock.

“25 K? Holy shit man,” Pope says.

“We haven’t lost the gold game, we just have to-“ you start, trying to get John B to support you, but Kie shuts you down.

“I know it’s easy for you to be all hopeful with the cushion you have, but not everyone can afford to waste their time,” Kie says sourly, she had a feeling you could help JJ but you were lying about something.

“Cushioning? What the hell are you talking about?!” You say back angerly, you had faith in the gold hunt, what was wrong with that?

“Don’t play dumb!” She demands, giving you a look like she wants to slap your face.

“Whoa, Kie. Calm down, she’s just trying to-“ Jj starts but she continues.

“Your keeping so many secrets! I can tell because I’m not an idiot like all the boys you have fooled. Admit it! You’ve been staying with John B!” Kie starts.

“What are you jealous? God Kie, I’m not sleeping with John B!” You shout.

“Why don’t you just go back to your own fucking house!” She says, in response your face blushes red and you look down at your feet, and away from Kie’s burning words.

“You know, I’ve never actually been to, or seen your house? Is there a reason for that...or are you just obsessed with keeping everything a secret,” Kie begins, standing up.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

“I wonder why?” She tries again.

“Shut up! Why are you trying to start something?!” You ask.

“Because your a liar! And I’m not friends with liars.”

“Kie just leave her alone,” John B says, but Kie didn’t listen.

“How did you get all that cash? You know how would be a good time to mention it, since JJ has 25K to pay,” Kie says, cornering you.

“Cash? What is she talking about,” JJ asks you.

You sigh, defeated, “Fine! If you want to hear me say it, then I’ll say it. I live a house in figure eight, but that doesn’t mean-“

“Your a kook?” a few of them say in unison. Even Kie was shocked.

“No! Guys, come on you know me! I surf, I don’t care about golf or clothes, money matters to me, I fish, the Cut is my home-“

“I can’t believe you were a kook this whole time,” Pope says sadly.

“Guys-“

“Liar...” Kiara mutters.

“You can’t-“ you stifle, your breathing was becoming difficult, was this the moment when your friends turned on you.

“Probably paid for surf lessons,”

That stung your heart, you loved surfing because the waves were an escape, the talent you had at it was all you.

You looked at everyone, they were mad, sad, even disgusted.

“You can’t be serious... wh-what you hate me now? Because I’m a kook?!” You ask your voice shaking, you lied, and they hated you now.

John B gets up and walks inside.

A few tears left your eyes, “please,” you say.

“You lies to us! Pogue life? You weren’t even a pogue! What are we to you then? A way to rebel against your parents? I’m done y/n,” Kie says.

“No, no you guys are my friends,” you say, letting a few more years fall.

“Pope?” You ask, he was looking at the ground.

“All those times we all had jobs to do, where we worked for the food on our table! Where were you?!” Pope asks, hurt.

All your friends hate you, “JJ? You ask slowly.

“She was helping us,” he pauses.

“W-What?” You ask.

“When we had our jobs...she was helping us,” JJ doesn’t make eye contact with you.

John B returns, “here,” he says, throwing you your bag of stuff.

“No,” you whimper, “guys it’s still me, Y/n!” You try and reason.

“You’re not just a kook, you’re a liar,” Kie says standing up and approaching the door.

JJ puts his hand on Kiaras shoulder and stopped her from leaving.

“Why do you think she lied, huh?” JJ breaks the silence.

Everyone looks at him, “Because we would react like this! Look at us, y/n has done nothing but been a good friend to all of us. Pope, she always helped deliver groceries. John B, she never once doubted your dad or the g-game. And Kie, she spent days teaching you how to surf, and protesting ocean plastic! And to me, she’s comforted me about my dad even when I pushed her away. God, I love her. I don’t care if she’s a kook, guys it’s just a name. She’s been a better friend than a kook. And you all love her too,” JJ says, angry at his friends for being so petty.

Kie looks at you crying quietly, “I’m an idiot,” she breathed, then she stands up and hugs you. You hug her back. John B joins next, muttering that he’s sorry, Pope joins. And after a few seconds you all pull out.

“Guys, I was never doing this to spite my parents or any of the kooks. You guys are literally the best friends I’ve ever had. I can’t loose you all,” you explain.

“Sorry we were so dumb,” Pope says, “well except jj,” he says, “that’s a sentence I never thought I’d say,”

You turn to JJ, he looks at you with a sweet smile, he basically saved you, with love you run up to him and jump into his arms, he supports your back, hugging you tight.

“I love you, JJ,” you whisper in his ear. He pulls out to see your face, within seconds, he presses his lips against yours, you moving yours along with him, accepting his kiss.

[harryforvogue]

hey sarah!! question now that you are rewriting wtss! back in 2019 when you stopped updating and and “abandoned” the series for some time i remember asking you about the ending harry and annaliese got, you briefly described something violent happening and then a epilogue explaining the whole situation, and if i’m not mistaken you said you didn’t quite like the course and the format that the series was following so that was the reason you stoped updating right? So now that you’re rewriting the whole thing will you keep the ending you thought back then? or is everything going to stay the exact same just not the format the chapters are following? is it longer now? like obviously it’s going to be longer cause you adding the end this time but are there any extra scenes?

also ps: i’m really happy i got to stick with you ‘cause i remember very vividly following you when you posted the 4th chapter of wtss and reading your whole masterlist back then, now you got like 4 more series and i got to see you posting every single one of them AND i’ll get to see you repost wtss (something i never thought could happen lol) so it’s like we’ve come full circle ☹️🥺

okay hehe i love all these questions!

the fic is very long now. i just hit 25k words and just finished up chapter 8. i changed the story completely! i’m unsure about the ending actually. my outline suggests a more peaceful ending, but i don’t know. my plans change all the time. wtss is broken up into three parts. the first part takes place in new jersey and the pennsylvania countryside, the second takes place newport, rhode island, and the third back in new york!

i’m taking my time with this story, so i don’t expect it to be posted anytime soon. for full circle purposes, let’s aim for july-ish. i’ll probably only post it on wattpad for format sake. 

also, the story isn’t in third person narrative. annaliese narrates the story in first present tense!

that’s all i have for you for now, but seriously, thank you for being so interested!! it means so much, because i know i took a VERY long break from it. i love you very much and this message is something i’d like to keep forever. thank you!

[atruththatyoudeny]

Monthly Reads | July 2020

Happy 28th! As always, my undying love goes out to all the amazing authors this fandom still has. You are all incredible! Thank you for sharing your work with us ♥ Here are all the 21 fics I read and enjoyed this month:

⋙ The Murmur of Yearning | MediaWhore | historical - no smut - arranged marriage past rape/non-con - implied/referenced dubious consent - minor character death - slow burn - 93k Four years ago, Harry Styles was forced into a marriage of convenience to enrich and ally both his and his promised's families. The sudden, and slightly suspicious, death of the Marquess of Haxshire, however, brings great disturbance to Crescentfield Hall and, as his late's husband's closest male relative, Harry unexpectedly finds himself the head of a family he never felt he belonged to. Between a meddling distant cousin hellbent on inserting himself in Harry’s life, his wicked and mistrustful mother-in-law and his late husband’s advisors refusing to help or take him seriously, Harry struggles in the fight to keep what he’s earned and make the Estate finally feel like home. Luckily he doesn’t stand completely alone and finds himself an unlikely ally in Mr Tomlinson, the elusive Land Stewart who has been taking care of the property in the shadows for years. Louis Tomlinson is caring, patient, and unlike everyone else, he doesn’t seem to think Harry committed a murder.

⋙ Donor-Conceived | jaerie | a/b/o - omega/omega - friends to lovers - intersex omegas - pregnancy kink - unplanned pregnancy - fertility issues - miscarriage mentioned - male lactation - lactation kink - 31k When Harry receives the worst news of his life, it's now or never if he wants to carry a child of his own. Without an alpha, it's a daunting idea. But after it's a go, he finds another omega having a child from the same donor and become fast friends. It is only logical that they raise the boys as half brothers, making sure their sons keep up the relationship with the only connection to their anonymous father. It seems like the perfect plan but life doesn't always work out that way.

⋙ Just a touch of your love | anonymous | a/b/o - touch-starved - past abuse - past rape/non-con - miscommunication - anxiety attacks - 12k “What if something happened to you? What would I say to Niall?” “Nothing, he would have to wait to see my corpse on the news like everyone else.” Deadpanned Harry. Louis’ gasp was all the answer he got. Ok, so that might have been a bit too much. With a calmer voice, he said, “It’s really fine. I’ve walked to the tube countless times, I can handle myself. Just go home and tell Niall to stop mothering me.” Louis was finally walking by his side and gave him a sideways glance before talking. “He doesn’t know, does he? Of your, uh, condition.” Harry tensed and his breath became erratic, but he didn’t say a word. Louis continued. “His nose probably hasn’t picked it up, and you’re lucky Liam’s also a beta, but it took me a minute to confirm it. Your scent is gettin’ so…” He seemed to struggle to find a word. He didn’t finish the sentence, but the emotion in his voice made Harry’s tummy churn. -- Or, Harry is a touch starved omega trying to get through it on his own. Louis happens to be the only alpha around to realize it and offers to help.

⋙ We're Not Who We Used To Be | jaerie | trans female character - trans Harry - childhood friends - friends with benefits - transitioning - gender dysphoria - body disphoria gender identity - first time - self-medicating - reference to depression - 7k Louis comes back to his childhood home and sees an old friend who has changed quite a lot since the last time they saw each other.

⋙ Sincerely, Yours | anon | strangers to lovers - military - 25k Prompt:Historical AU where Louis is a soldier on his way to first deployment and Harry is working at a diner. They meet there when Louis is waiting for the bus, Harry tries to cheer Louis up and agrees to write to him while he's deployed because Louis doesn't have anyone else to write to. People kinda make fun of Harry for writing to (and falling for) a virtual stranger but otherwise everything is great until Louis stops writing. AKA travelin' soldier by the Dixie Chicks but gay and with a happy ending.

⋙ Ever Since I Tried Your Way | anon | historical - 1940s - 1950s - farm/ranch - internalized homophobia - hurt/comfort - emotional hurt/comfort - fluff - smut - gender exploration - body worship - 26k Harry had been kissed before, but never like this. He’d shared sweet, curious kisses behind bleachers and in soda shop booths, one or two more daring ones in cars parked on dark suburban streets, but the girls he’d kissed had never filled him with the desperation that erupted from Louis’ touch. He parted his lips and pulled him closer, as though he could breathe Louis straight into his lungs, as if he could swallow him. He wanted to consume Louis the way he consumed the body and blood of Christ. He wanted to place Louis on his tongue and feel him dissolve into a frothy mess of starch and saliva. He wanted to gulp him down until his teeth were stained purple and he was drunk on him. He wanted him in some violent holy way that made his hands shake where they were twisted in Louis’ shirt. In 1949 Harry left his bride at the altar, running away from the only life he'd known. When a kindhearted farmer offers him a ride in his truck and a place to sleep the two find themselves inexplicably drawn together. Isolated on Louis' farm with nobody but a field of dairy cows to intrude, the men are finally able to explore the parts of themselves they've spent their lives hiding away.

⋙ sleeping on our problems | falsegoodnight | a/b/o - college/university - mpreg - friends with benefits - angst - slow burn - hurt/comfort - 67k I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down. There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word. His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared. - Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

⋙ in a world alone | falsegoodnight | a/b/o - Swan Lake AU - historical - royalty - magic - curses - friends to lovers - slow burn - mpreg - 51k Harry’s breath catches as the glow grows bigger and bigger until he’s squinting his eyes and blinking at the sudden intense brightness. He closes his eyes, rubbing at them helplessly. When his eyes open again- he gasps, grip loosening on his bow as he gawks at the sight before him. Because the swan is gone. And in its place is the prettiest omega Harry has ever seen. - A Swan Lake AU

⋙ The Baby Whisperer | jacaranda_bloom | strangers to lovers - prior mpreg - neighbours - fluff - smut - kid fic - 19k Harry’s newborn baby is having trouble sleeping and nothing he does seems to work. Tired and alone and at his wits end, Harry is at a loss until a new neighbour arrives to turn his world upside down. OR the one where being neighbourly takes on a whole new meaning.

⋙ was in no hurry, had no worries | defencelouis | strangers to lovers - car accidents - smut - daddy kink - 21k The year is 1999 and Harry can’t stop dedicating songs to Louis on the radio. Or the one where Harry hits Louis with his car.

⋙ Strong Enough | jacaranda_bloom | enemies to lovers - exes to lovers - angst - smut - divorce - 21k “So…” Liam starts, and Louis instantly knows where this is going. He’s actually glad it’s Liam that's dragging the subject out from the shadows and into the light. Louis turns to face him, mirroring his position on the couch and nods, ready for him to continue. Liam takes a deep breath. “Have you spoken to Harry recently?” Five years after Vertigo goes on hiatus, the band comes back together for a benefit concert. Can Louis and Harry work through their complicated past, or are some wounds too deep to be healed?

⋙ What's It Gonna Be? | zeldasayre | high school - 37k Louis looked thoughtful for a moment. “When are you meeting with Clare again?” “Thursday,” Bebe said, looking over at him, the ice clinking in her glass as she stirred it with a long spoon. “Why?” He grinned, narrowing his eyes. He took a long, dramatic pause, sipping his lemonade, and then said, “Scheming.” aka I've watched Shura's "What's It Gonna Be?" music video one too many times. ((Or, Louis and Bebe, best friends since childhood, have crushes on two of the most popular kids in school, and in an attempt to increase their respective chances, Louis befriends Harry Styles, quarterback of the football team, while Bebe befriends Clare Uchima, head cheerleader. Only... the plan... doesn't go exactly as planned.))

⋙ There Goes My Life | anonymous | older larry - colleagues with benefits - mpreg - unplanned pregnancy - smut - lactation kink - 8k Metallic taste in the mouth, check. Aversions to favourite foods, check. Nausea without throwing up, check. A heightened sense of smell, check. Sore and sensitive nipples, check. It had felt as though Harry had been ticking off boxes from his own mental checklist and every new addition brought him closer to an existential crisis. Pregnant. Everything over the last few weeks began to make sense; thoughts he pushed from his mind because he was too busy, and to be honest too scared, to think about. Getting knocked up from a few-night’s-stand was something that happened to teenagers and/or uni students, but certainly not to a forty-year-old Member of Parliament such as himself. *** Or, the one where Harry is single, a Member of Parliament, gets knocked up and has to deal with navigating motherhood in his forties. And Louis? Well, his life is about to change forever as well. This is a tale about colleagues with benefits and the consequences that can come with that.

⋙ Mother I'd Like to * | anonymous | implied mpreg - MILF Harry - 4k “What’s up, dad?” Oliver asks Louis, standing in front of Harry in a way that hides his friends from the view. “Is there something wrong with your mom? Your friends are staring a lot.” Oliver goes beet red at that. He groans and hides his face on his hands. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” --------------------- Written for the prompt: Harry’s and Louis’ son is like 16, so he is hanging out with his friends and his friends are teasing him about how hot his mother (aka harry) is, just like the 1D boys always did with Harry about Anne. The son feels super uncomfortable and Louis is super confused why these little teenagers boys always stare at Harry’s body when he is cooking for them whenever they visit until he finds out they think of Harry as the hottest milf in town (more humor than actual sexual references pls, this is supposed to be more funny than awkwardly sexual :D)

⋙ An Invincible Summer | Brooklyn_Babylon | farm/ranch - historical - 1940s - period-typical homophobia - adoption - minor character death - epilepsy - homophobic language - smut - 44k Never content to stay in one place for long, a few months down south researching for his novel seemed like an idyllic, slow-paced summer to Louis. He wasn't ready for the blistering heat, the backbreaking work of watermelon picking, or how stifling the attitudes in rural Georgia would feel. And he definitely hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the farmer’s son. The summer of 1946 would turn out to be everything worth writing about.

⋙ a trail of honey through it all | faeriestyles | strangers to friends to lovers - mild violence - D/s undertones - 27k The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him. Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

⋙ The Recklessness in Water | LarryOn | light angst - smut - 50k Louis Tomlinson is miserable. He's stuck on a family vacation at a lake cabin in New Hampshire when all he wants to do is bemoan his sorry existence and wallow in his sweatpants. As if the humidity and mosquitos weren't bad enough, he becomes the singular target of an obnoxious lifeguard named Harry.

⋙ baby blue | soldouthaz | cowboy AU - famous/not famous - angst - hate to love - enemies to lovers - smut - hurt/comfort - minor violence - 39k Harry Styles takes his time coming out to greet them. Louis only knows what he’s seen on file and what he’s heard them talking about, but he fully lives up to the image he had inside of his head. He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin. “Harry Styles,” he drawls, extending a hand to Louis’ manager, “Pleased to meet ya’ll.”

⋙ with no way out and a long way down | we_are_the_same | royalty - soulmates - strangers to lovers - fluff - angst - no smut - emotional hurt/comfort arranged marriage - 31k Prince Harry is ten when he receives his soulmark.

⋙ adjudication | bottomlinsons | royalty - historical - enemies to friends to lovers - enemies to friends - love letters - betrayal - slow burn - light angst - arranged marriage - 75k Harry's been engaged to Princess Charlotte of Ryde for as long as he can remember. He's come to know her, to love her, through the letters she's sent him over the past three years. But when the wedding finally arrives, Harry quickly learns that nothing is as it seems. With his crown and country at stake, Harry must decide who to trust in this strange new land. And the sly Crown Prince of Ryde doesn't seem inclined to make things easy.

⋙ Something to Prove | trysomecats | a/b/o - enemies to lovers - mpreg - smut - 9k Louis is the first and only omega to work at Red Valley Medical Center. Despite being more than qualified, he still faces prejudice for his career choice everyday. From patients refusing his treatment to condescending alpha doctors intervening with his work, practicing medicine in Boston is more challenging than Louis had ever thought it would be.

[cakesunflower]

Ineffable [Fighter!Calum] One Shot

Ineffable—Too great to be expressed in words.

Summary: The fear of Calum’s fight made Sylvia run away. Now she was back, and engaging in a fight with her own feelings was not something she was too prepared for.

over 25k words of fighter!Calum. i’m very proud of this one, if i’m being honest, and i hope you guys enjoy reading it and telling me what you think, i always look forward to your comments. happy reading!!

EDIT: there’s a chance if you’re reading this on Safari, then a chunk of the story in different parts is MISSING! idk why tumblr is fucking up, and it’s hella annoying. so to read the WHOLE story, please read on the Tumblr mobile app, or else you won’t understand what’s happening! The first line of the story is “It had been years since she stepped foot in the rambunctious, buzzing underground arena, yet it was still exactly the same.” Make sure that’s what you’re reading, seeing as the entire first part on desktop is missing!! if what you’re reading makes no sense and doesn’t flow, it’s because tumblr just deleted a big chunk of the story from the desktop version!!

READ. FROM. MOBILE!!!!

thank you

--

It had been years since she stepped foot in the rambunctious, buzzing underground arena, yet it was still exactly the same. The familiar stench of stale beer, sweat, along with the dull copper of blood lingered in the air and caused Sylvia to wrinkle her nose in disgust, not used to the intense mixture after her lack of visitation over the past year or so. She looked around, the dim lighting always reminding Sylvia of a creepy back alley, realizing not much had changed in the arena. Or, well, calling it an arena was too professional of a term; it was basically an underground cave—or, at least, that’s what it reminded Sylvia of—large and spacious, with a bar on either side for people to help themselves to and the main spectacle right in the center—a boxing ring.

There had been a time in the past where Sylvia always feared the ceiling would come down on them, collapsing under the weight of the world above them and burying her and everyone else under piles of rocky rubble. But it had been two years since she first stepped foot into the place and it was still standing, so maybe it wasn’t as fragile as Sylvia had thought. The people that frequented it certainly weren’t, that was for sure.

It was a lot more crowded than Sylvia remembered it ever being, breath hitching when someone shouldered past her and she stumbled into her best friend, Luann, who steadied her easily. Sylvia wondered how so many people got to know of the Underground—which, to be fair, was just a name she referred to it by since it technically didn’t even have a name. First rule of Fight Club: You do not talk about Fight Club. So how was it that there were close to a hundred people buzzing around the area, when Sylvia clearly remembered less than half of that showing up when she used to frequent there?

“Told you it’s become big,” Luann told her over the sound of the continuous chatter ringing in their ears. It was obvious everyone was waiting for the next round to start, waiting for the fighters to come out, and the ball of dread Sylvia had been trying to bury all day was once again beginning to tighten in her stomach and stir to make her feel nauseous.

Her small group of friends began moving forward, wanting to get their drinks before making their way to the ring, and Sylvia suddenly grabbed hold of Luann’s arm. Without even looking at her friend, Sylvia’s gaze remained on the empty ring as she stated through a dry throat, “I don’t think I should be here.”

The hesitation was clear as day in Sylvia’s tone over the buzz of the other patrons, the strained voice of someone who didn’t think they belonged there, when in reality at one point, Sylvia had been one of the most frequent goers of the Underground. At the way Luann pursed her lips and tilted her head in disagreement, Sylvia’s lips parted as she began stuttering out excuses, “I mean, I should be with Nana, you know? I moved back for her and it’s so selfish of me to be out here instead of with her and—”

“Hey, keep it together!” At the sound of Luann’s exclaim and her hands grabbing hold of Sylvia's shoulders, the stuttering blonde immediately clamped her mouth shut as she stared into her best friend’s brown eyes. Sylvia’s neck tensed as she tried to calm herself down, feeling her heart beginning to pick up its pace anyways despite Luann’s words. She couldn’t help the preexisting guilt from only intensifying the more time she spent away from home. “Nana’s the one who told you to go out, remember? You’ve been back for weeks and you’ve been home taking care of her like the amazing granddaughter you are. You deserve a night out.”

The sound of someone throwing up in the corner nearest to them could be heard over the gruff chattering of those around them, and both girls saw the disgust flicker across each other’s eyes as they tried to ignore the sound. Licking her lips, Sylvia raised her eyebrows as she responded in a brief flat tone, “I don’t think this is what she had in mind.”

Luann’s lips twitched into a smile, head ducking as the laugh escaped her before letting out a breath and looking back up at a pouting Sylvia who whined, “Why would you bring me here anyway? You know this is the last place I’d want to be.” Sylvia narrowed her blue eyes, her pout prominent. “What kind of best friend are you?”

A defeated breath escaped Luann, dropping her shoulders as well as relinquishing her grip on Sylvia. “It’s a big one, Syl.” Her expression softened, tendrils of dark hair loose from her ponytail framing her heart shaped face. “You don’t wanna miss this.”

The insinuation of Luann’s words had the familiar knot tightening even more in Sylvia’s stomach, breath forming a lump in her throat as a familiar, devastatingly handsome face flashed across her mind’s eye. It was a face she’d never forget, one she hadn’t seen in the past year since she had moved to San Francisco. If Sylvia was being honest, she hadn’t been entirely sure if she planned on seeing him again upon her return to Los Angeles, but with Luann as her best friend, who was constantly dragging her around, she guess she should’ve figured it wasn’t a complete impossibility.

So here she was now, waiting for him to step into the ring.

The humor fell from Sylvia’s face upon Luann’s words, lips thinning as she gave a gentle shake of her head while twisting her lips to the side. Her gaze wandered over the many people surrounding them, mostly men with some women speckled in between, all drinking beers and getting their money out to place their bets, hunger for a fight swimming a bit too brightly in each of their eyes. “You know this was one of the reasons why I left, right?” Sylvia sounded, voice low as her pointed gaze flickered back to Luann. Eyebrows furrowing together, Sylvia shrugged questioningly. “What made you think I’d wanna be back here?”

A soft, sympathetic smile curled at Luann’s lips, gaze momentarily flickering being Sylvia’s shoulder before her eyes locked with hers. “Because he’s always said you’re his good luck charm. And he could use it tonight.” And then she jutted her chin to gesture at something behind Sylvia, and the blonde tried to ignore the hitch in her throat at Luann’s words before turning around.

His good luck charm. Sylvia doubted that was true at this point. Still, the words tugged at her heart almost painfully.

The crowd had started cheering, the gruff sounds of yells making the walls around them and the floor under their feet vibrate in excitement, and Sylvia’s lips parted to let in a sharp breath at the sight of the familiar, breathtakingly handsome man stepping foot into the ring. The same man who, as it turned out in that moment, still made her heart leap in her chest and squeeze every drop of air from her lungs even as she looked at him from a distance.

He always left her breathless. She’d been a fool to think a year away was going to change that.

The world slipped away from Sylvia just then, the sound of those around her muffled in her ears as she watched, over the heads of those gathering around the ring, her ex-boyfriend eat up the cheers being thrown at him. Through the warm lighting of the area, Sylvia could make out the determined, tight glare resting on Calum’s face, a look consisting of his sharp jaw clenched and dark brown eyes sharp and focused on the fight that was about to take place. Even from the distance, Sylvia could feel the air of confidence that circled him; the kind of unperturbed self-assurance she had always admired. How in the most intense, grueling of fights, he never in all of the times Sylvia had seen him fight, ever showed any signs of defeat. Never showed any hints of giving up.

She’s the one that had given up, but Sylvia didn’t want to think of that right now.

“Did he. . .” Her blue eyes narrowed into a squint, trying to figure out if what she was seeing was a trick of the dull lighting or if her eyes weren’t, in fact, deceiving her. Sylvia let out a surprised breath. “Did he dye his hair?”

Luann stepped up next to her, letting out a quiet giggle. “Yup. Think he’s trying to figure out if blondes have more fun.” She bumped her shoulder into Sylvia’s. “You could just as easily answer that for him.”

Sylvia shot her a withering stare, one that had no effect on Luann. Licking her lips nervously, she turned to look back towards the ring, the sound of everyone’s loud yells already becoming accustomed to her ears despite her being away for a year. “Who’s he even fi—” Sylvia cut herself off, because her eyes landed on exactly who Calum’s opponent was going to be as he stepped into the ring in the middle of the racacious yells, and Sylvia’s heart dropped to the very pit of her stomach. “Oh, my G—he’s fighting Danny Preston?” The panic tightened her chest, hand shooting to grip Luann’s wrist tightly. “Why the fuck is he fighting Danny Preston?!”

Luann’s jaw slackened at the harsh grip Sylvia was holding her in, free hand trying to loosen Sylvia’s as Luann let out a high pitched squeak before responding, “This is why I thought you’d wanna come!”

A sharp breath escaped Sylvia, her heart thundering anxiously within her chest, feeling it slam against her ribcage as she watched Calum and Danny eye each other from either side of the ring, waiting for the fight to start so they could make each other bleed. God, she hated this. She hated watching him fight, was one of the reasons why she ran, because seeing Calum get hurt squeezed at Sylvia’s heart until she couldn’t breathe anymore. The overwhelming excitement buzzing around her only served to sit heavily on her, clearly not sharing the enthusiasm with everyone else. She may not have been around for a while, but the last time Sylvia had been there, Danny Preston was the only opponent Calum had lost against—was one of the most ruthless, unforgiving fighters down there. She’d seen him break his opponent’s bones. Hell, she’d seen people barely walk out of that ring alive after a single round with him.

So why the fuck was Calum facing off with him?

Shooting Luann an incredulous look, one coated with panic just as much, Sylvia snapped back, “You thought I’d want to see my ex get his ass kicked by Preston? What the fuck, Luann?”

“Good to know you still have some faith in him.”

The sound of the familiar drawl had Sylvia’s back straightening right before she swiveled around, eyes landing on the familiar face of one of Calum’s best friends, Luke Hemmings. He stood tall, just like Sylvia had remembered, with blonde curls pulled back into a bun and eyebrows raised over bright blue eyes Sylvia had always been jealous of—hers were more of a darker blue. His sometimes appeared to be completely translucent and she wished hers were more like that.

Instead of greeting him like Sylvia was raised to, she gave Luke an incredulous look with her jaw dropped and eyebrows shooting up. “It’s not about me not having faith in Calum,” she was quick to retort, frowning as she quickly shook her head. She didn’t like the judgemental look the tall man in front of her was shooting down, unimpressed by what he overheard. “It’s about Calum going up against that fucking caveman. I’ve seen what he does to his opponents, Luke. How the hell are you not freaking out?”

His lips had been pressed together as he listened to her over the buzzing of those around them, his expression blank. Which, honestly, kind of unnerved Sylvia given that Luke was one of the most animated people she knew. To have him look down at her, expression not at all giving away what he was thinking, made her feel even more out of place in the Underground than she did already. “Because unlike you, I’ve been right here watching Calum progress as a fighter. And I know, for a fact, that he’s gonna drop Preston on his ass because of how much he’s improved.” Luke’s lips curled up into a very uncharacteristically condescending smirk, one that dried Sylvia’s already sandpapery throat. “Save your worries for someone who needs them.”

His words felt like a slap in the face, Sylvia immediately pressing her teeth together because, yeah, she kind of expected a reaction like that. Her reason for leaving was no secret, especially since she had made it clear to Calum before she left. It was only natural for his best friend to not entirely welcome her back with open arms. Especially on a turf that was specifically there.

Sylvia wasn’t even sure what she was going to say as she started, “Luke, I—”

“If you’re not here to show your support, you can leave, Sylvia,” he cut in, his flat tone completely contradicting the harsh look taking over his eyes. “Cal doesn’t need that kind of energy here. Not tonight.”

She averted her gaze from the tall blonde, frowning at the ground as the hurt stung through her veins at Luke’s words. He was right, she figured, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed hearing it.

Sylvia moved aside to let Luke past as he made a move to walk, her gaze lifting and eyes widening when she caught sight of him duck his head and press a brief kiss to Luann’s lips. In that moment, Sylvia wondered if she had just imagined what she just witnessed, though that thought was right out the window as Luke murmured to Luann, “I’ll see you up front,” before giving her another kiss and straightening to his full height.

He walked away without another look towards Sylvia, tall frame easily moving through the thick crowd, leaving a bewildered blonde gaping at a guilty looking Luann who pressed her kissed lips together like she’d just been caught in the act—which, honestly, she had been. When her apprehensive eyes met Sylvia’s questioning, completely incredulous ones, Luann hesitantly began, “I, uh, may have forgotten to mention that we’ve, um, been seeing each other?”

Sylvia’s lungs deflated, shoulders dropping as she continued to gape at her best friend. Her mind was spinning, not entirely sure what had just happened as she ignored her surroundings and focused on the discovery in front of her. When in the goddamn hell had that happened and why hadn’t Luann ever said anything? At least even ever mention that she liked Luke or had been seeing him? Maybe Luann kept it to herself because of the relationship Luke had with her ex, which okay, Sylvia understood. And she wasn’t mad—she had no right to be because who Luann wanted to date wasn’t at all up to her. But Sylvia wished that her past with Calum hadn’t, in any kind of way, affected her friendship with Luann to the point where her best friend didn’t even tell her about her new boyfriend.

Sylvia inhaled sharply. Too much was happening too fast.

“I don’t. . . Even know what just happened,” Sylvia spoke slowly, blinking upwards before a surprised, breathless laugh escaped her. For a moment, everything else slipped out of Sylvia’s mind as she raised an eyebrow at her best friend, who was still smiling nervously. “When did you and Luke eve—”

“Fight!”

The loud shout sounded over the buzz, only causing the crowd to roar viciously and making Sylvia turn around suddenly, heart jumping into her throat once again when she watched Calum and Danny circle each other, sizing one another up. Right then, everything else slipped out of Sylvia’s mind, lips parting in nervous wonder as Danny threw the first punch, one that Calum easily ducked out of the way from. Sylvia would be lying if she said a gasp hadn’t choked in her throat when she saw Danny’s fist fly, only calming down the tiniest bit when Calum moved away. But Sylvia’s been there before, she knew what she was in for. She knew the anxiety and nerves and terror weren’t going to die down until Calum was out of the ring.

Her eyes remained glued to Calum, throat tight and nails absently picking at each other, as she watched him move with an even more precise sense of agility than she remembered watching him fight with. His hands were fisted and elbows tucked in, the glow of the dull lights making his brown, inked skin appear warm and smooth to touch. And Sylvia tried not to let it distract her, tried not to think of if his skin was still as soft as she remembered it being, or if his newly cut and blonde hair felt just the same in between her fingers as his brown curls had.

But there wasn’t a chance of Sylvia feeling those sensations again, she knew. And so she watched him fight, just as apprehensively as she always did, with a weight suffocating her chest and nerves bouncing erratically beneath her skin.

“Come on,” Luann’s voice broke through Sylvia’s mind, though it sounded far away despite them standing right next to each other. “Let’s go to the front.”

“N-No,” Sylvia stammered out, her feet seemingly frozen right where she stood, unable to tear her gaze away from the ring. Her shoulders tensed even more when Calum delivered a successful right hook, knuckles connecting to Danny’s jaw, and Sylvia couldn’t breathe with the thick lump clogging her throat. They were at a distance from the ring, a crowd of faces between her and Calum, and she wanted to keep it that way during the fight. Being up close to the ring wasn’t something Sylvia wanted to experience again, and the last thing she wanted was Calum’s eyes potentially landing on her face during the fight and possibly getting surprised by her presence. A distraction of any kind could cost him, especially against an opponent like Danny. Sylvia swallowed. “I just—can we stay over here? Please.”

Luann had dragged Sylvia here against her will. The least she could do was let Sylvia reluctantly watch, with her heart in her throat, her ex-boyfriend throw and possibly suffer through punches from a distance.

                                                            *****

It was one of the best highs he’d ever experienced.

There had been a moment, a brief moment when Preston had his knee pressed into the area below his chest and sent a concussing punch to his jaw, that had Calum panicking over the thought of losing the fight. The blood in his mouth had been familiarly bitter and his head had felt numbed from the hit, and in a split second haze Calum had wondered if that had been the end for him in that particular fight, wondered if he would be able to pull himself up from it.

But the cheers had been deafening, the gruff and deep roars of the crowd surrounding them fueling the simmering fire in Calum’s veins into an eruption caused by a newfound purpose. Truthfully, it had also been because of the smug, triumphant smirk that had sprouted on Preston’s lips as he stared down at Calum, the arrogance dancing in his dark eyes, as he geared back his right hand to deliver another devastating blow that both he and Calum knew would effectively knock Calum out and cost him the match. And there was no way that Calum was about to let the patronizing son of a bitch win. Especially when Preston was one of the only fighters Calum had lost against. He wasn’t going to give his long standing opponent the satisfaction of defeating him again.

So he fought back. With the blood and sweat literally running down his skin, with the bones of his hands feeling as though they were seconds away from being shattered, and with his heart hammering so roughly against his chest that it was burning him from the inside out, Calum gathered enough energy to punch Preston off. He surprised everyone by standing tall on his own two feet, spitting a mouthful of blood on the stained canvas floor of the ring and craning his head to the side to let the tension crack before throwing himself back into the fight.

And he’d won.

The heaviness in his heart as he caught his breath after the win, standing over Preston’s fallen body, shoulders finally relaxed and hands familiarly sore as he tasted the blood in his mouth. Calum never was one to pay attention to the aches his body was screaming about, the punches and kicks he’d suffered through, and he didn’t do so tonight either. Especially tonight, when the adrenaline was pumping through his veins and mixing in with the overwhelming triumph of finally putting down the one man he’d been yearning to do so for so long. Calum had trained for this. Had spent every waking moment in the gym bettering himself and correcting any mistake that ever caused him to lose any match, and it all fucking worked out.

He won.

Calum looked down at his hands, bloody and bruised and hurting like a pair of motherfuckers, and a smile curled at his lips through the breaths he was trying to even out. But the pain was worth it. It was worth it because it gave him the title of being the undefeated fighter of the ring and gave him a hefty load of money from his cut of the bets that had been placed before the fight. The sweat sticking to his skin didn’t bother him, though it rarely did, most of the blood wiped off, and he didn’t even think of how he was going to be unbearably sore in the morning. He’d fucking won. He was on a high right now and, Calum knew, nothing could bring him down from it.

“You good, man?” Ashton’s excited laugh pulled Calum out of his thoughts.

He opened his eyes, gaze landing on his three best friends surrounding him, all with equally thrilled grins and glimmering eyes. Calum had pressed himself against the wall in the back of the area next to the doorway to the locker room after being patted and cheered on by a number of the spectators. It was clearing out slowly and Calum needed the moment of somewhat calm to relish in the victory he’d just acquired for himself. His heart, after finally relaxing from the adrenaline of the fight, felt weightless in his chest. Calum had an image to maintain down there, but even he couldn’t succeed in keeping the smile off his face, and he was a damn expert in keeping himself unexpressive.

Calum kept his head leaned back against the rocky wall, looking at his friends from down his nose, lips curling upwards in a near blissed out smile. “’M fuckin’ great,” he responded, a laugh passing through him without much choice. “’M bloody fantastic.”

“You’re undefeated,” Michael laughed, green eyes lighting up happily as he shifted to lean against the wall next to him. He nudged Calum’s shoulder with his nose, not too rough despite knowing Calum could take it, hands shoved in his ripped denim jacket. “You gonna treat us out to drinks with the bank you’ve just made?”

Calum’s grin widened, rolling his eyes at Michael before snorting, “Greedy fucker.” The boys laughed and he didn’t acknowledge the dull pain that throbbed through his nose at the action. Lolling his head straight, Calum raised his eyebrows at Luke, trailing his tongue along his lower lip and no longer tasting the copper of the blood that had been there, before asking, “Where’s Luann at?”

Upon hearing his words, Calum noticed the wide, dimpled grin on Luke’s face falter slightly, the dents in his cheeks under the facial hair disappearing as some of the giddiness in his eyes vanished. Calum’s eyebrows twitched into a frown at the sight of his friend not looking entirely pleased over the mention of his girlfriend, a mixture of concern and curiosity making him straighten his head.

He watched as Luke pressed his lips together, jaw tight and broad shoulders lowering tensely. The sudden change in demeanor wasn’t lost on any of them, all looking at Luke with their own levels of concern. But he didn’t meet anyone’s gaze, hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket as he looked away, the muscle in his jaw jumping.

Luke looked at Calum then, blue eyes meeting curious brown, and he let out a breath before stating, “Sylvia’s here.”

Maybe it had been the hits Preston had managed to get in, but Luke’s words had taken a minute too long to register in Calum’s head as both Michael and Ashton reacted immediately, choking out incredulous exclaims at the bomb Luke dropped. But his words echoed in Calum’s mind, hollowed out from the statement that had just been unloaded on him, and Calum couldn’t think. Suddenly the rocky wall he was leaning against was digging too much into the skin of his bare back, his feet seemed too exhausted to support his weight, and the heat that spread throughout his body was a hundred times more intense than whatever he felt during the fight. All because Luke’s words were the harshest punch Calum had received all night, knocking the air right out of his lungs effortlessly.

Sylvia was there. She was there, somewhere amongst the crowd of dispersing patrons, and Calum couldn’t think. His thoughts were no longer on the incredible match he had just won, a match he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about, but one mention of his ex-girlfriend and every train of thought in Calum’s mind had been redirected to her path. He no longer slouched against the wall, back straightening rigidly as his dark eyes began darting around, trying to catch sight of the woman he hadn’t seen in a year‍, of the one who’d clouded his thoughts more often than he let on.

“She’s back?” Ashton questioned, hazel eyes wide as he looked between Luke and Calum, alarmed for the sake of his brown eyed best friend.

Luke’s eyes met Calum’s, biting down into his lower lip before offering a slow, single nod before repeating with a confirming, “She’s back.”

Calum’s heart was in his throat and his gaze, right then, flickered past Luke’s frame and then the beating inside stopped altogether at the sight of the woman, albeit hesitantly, making her way towards him. And as soon as he looked at her, even from the distance, Calum could pick out every feature of Sylvia’s face; of her blue eyes that reminded him of the sea, gentle dimples he’d often poked, the button nose he used to rub his own against, blonde hair that was now up to her shoulders rather than to her waist, and the consistently pink lips he’d kissed so many times.

Everything felt tight, uncomfortably so, as Calum watched Sylvia face Luann as she animatedly spoke to her, all the while nearing where he was. For a moment, Calum truly considered pushing himself off the wall and walking right into the locker room to avoid her altogether. But that thought was thrown out the window as soon as it entered his mind because Calum Hood didn’t run away. Running away was for cowards and Calum would rather get beat senseless than be a fucking coward.

“Shit,” Calum breathed out, despite the way he steeled himself and stood to his full height in preparation for what was about to come.

Their eyes met. Calum felt like he was being thrown against the wall with the air rushing out of his lungs, and he watched as Sylvia’s pace instantly slowed down once their gazes locked. The tension in her neck was obvious, taking a breath through her parted lips as the smile fell from her face upon noticing Calum. There was a halt in the air surrounding them, in that moment, time and reality coming to a stop as they took in the sight of the other, a sight neither had been privy to in about a year.

There was a ringing in Calum’s ears, deafening him to everything else, hearing only the increasing beating of his heart as he stared at the woman just a few feet away from him. His expression may not give it away—Calum was a damn near expert at schooling his features—but the shock was vibrating his nerves and rendering him frozen where he stood. And truthfully, he hated that. Calum never froze in place, never let anyone have that kind of power over him.

Unsurprising—yet just as unnerving—to realize that of course Sylvia was the one capable of doing so.

“Hell,” Ashton breathed out once he followed Calum’s gaze, eyes landing on the blonde girl that had been, at one point, the only thing that kept Calum together. Until she left and he had to find out, the hard way, that the only thing holding him together was himself. “She’s really back.”

“Luann knew and she didn’t tell you?” Calum heard Michael ask, not really caring about who his question was directed to until he heard Luke let out a slow breath.

His voice was dry as he answered, “Kept that bit of information to herself, I guess.”

The next few moments, it seemed, moved in slow motion as Sylvia let Luann lead her to where the boys were standing. Calum had always been able to read her well, a feat that had served him generously when he and Sylvia were dating, and even now with a year’s worth of separation between them, he could still see the waves of hesitation roll off of her as she reluctantly followed Luann. He watched Sylvia’s gaze drop, looking at anything but the men she was nearing, and Calum clenched his jaw tightly at the inevitable confrontation.

Being prepared was one of his strong suits. This, he realized, left the world gaping a hole beneath his feet.

It certainly didn’t help matters that Sylvia was, by every regard, just as beautiful as he remembered.

“It’s comforting to know the other guy looks a lot worse, or else I’d feel bad about your pretty face getting all fucked up.” Leave it to Luann to utter something witty as an attempt of diffusing the thick tension hovering over them like an impending storming cloud. Calum appreciated the effort—though, if he was being honest, he’d have appreciated the knowledge of his ex-girlfriend returning to town even more.

Unfortunately, Luann’s comment didn’t quite entice the laughs she had been hoping for, everyone too distracted by the presence of Calum and Sylvia—together, face to face, after an ending that had left a bitter taste in the two past lovers’ mouths that had yet to fade.

The group was quiet, the only sounds coming from the low hum of their surroundings consisting of still-enthusiastic drunks. It had taken Calum a minute to break away from them, being clapped on the back and congratulated on a fight not many had expected for him to win. It wasn’t like Calum was much of an underdog—he’d earned his place in the food chain of the ring—but against Danny Preston, his win was profound. A win he was so proud of, so ready to celebrate.

What he wasn’t ready for was facing Sylvia once more.

Calum already wasn’t a man of many words, but it had never been that way around her. With Sylvia, he’d always known what to say—hell, sometimes he didn’t even have to say anything for her to understand what he was thinking. The two of them, they knew each other frighteningly well. Were one and the same. The suffocating heaviness Calum felt pressing down on his chest felt harsher as he realized the two of them, right now, stood facing each other like strangers being introduced for the first time. Like the history consisting of dizzying kisses, tender touches, electrifying intimacy never existed in the first place.

That, Calum realized, was more painful than the knee to the gut Preston had delivered earlier in the night. Except a bruise on his skin was more visible than the agony in his heart.

No one tried to break the tension after Luann’s attempt, the silence between them awkward and tight. Until, to everyone’s surprise—even his own—Calum all but blurted, “You cut your hair.”

He noticed the flicker of surprise that flashed across Sylvia’s blue eyes, his own recognition making him feel somewhat relieved that he could read her at least that much, even if it damn well be all he could decipher. Just because Calum hadn’t stopped thinking about Sylvia for the past year, didn’t mean he still knew her.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the dull ache that came with the knowledge that he did know her at one point. Now it all felt like none of that mattered anymore.

Calum watched her throat work, the small diamond pendant of the necklace she never took off resting delicately beneath the hollow of her throat. Sylvia’s gaze flickered up slightly, before her blue eyes met his brown, cautious yet still somehow slightly unguarded. He wondered if he imagined the subtle quirk of her lips, brief and fleeting. “So did you.”  

Silence fell upon them once more, awkward and heavy, with no one quite sure of what to say or do. There had been a time where everything was easy and friendly, where no one was someone else’s ex and one hadn’t left the other. They all were friends, some more than others, yet the tension Sylvia’s surprise arrival brought rendered them all speechless.

“We’ll give you two a minute,” Michael suddenly spoke up, taking it upon himself to allow Calum and Sylvia some space. Or, maybe, he just didn’t want to be around a potential explosion between the two exes. Calum wouldn’t blame him if the latter was true. He watched as Michael pushed himself off the wall, missed the looks he exchanged with Luke and Ashton, as he made his way past Sylvia. Although he stopped for a moment right next to her, offering her a smile that was real and honest as he said, “It’s good to see you again, Syl.”

Calum saw the way her pink lips quirked up at Michael’s words, a flash of relief appearing across her face as Ashton also gave her a quick hug before following Michael. It didn’t go unnoticed by the boxer how Luke merely turned and left, not even bothering to look Sylvia’s way, uncaring of her arrival as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and stalked off.

Luann was the last to go, hesitating as she looked between Calum and Sylvia as she worried her lower lip before her shoulders sank and she let out a sigh. “Don’t kill each other,” she muttered before swiveling on the heel of her boot and jogging to catch up to Luke, whose long legs already granted him some distance.

The silence was back between them and Calum hated how acutely aware he was of his heart drumming within his chest. Truthfully, it was taking him off guard, standing in front of Sylvia right now. They had broken up and she was gone, a new job offer hours away in San Francisco seemingly rescuing her after she ended things with him, and Calum had been left distraught over the loss of a woman he’d spent a year of his life with—a year of his life loving. If Calum was the expressive, dramatic kind he would say that he truly had felt as though everything was over after Sylvia left him with nothing but a shattered heart. But he never said it; he only felt it, quietly and achingly and tiredly. And while his friends knew the breakup with Sylvia is what caused Calum to spend even more time in the gym and in the ring, punching and kicking out his aggression, they never dared say anything.

Heartbreak was a hell of a motivator, as was anger.

In this moment, though, Calum understood that he was frozen. It irritated him, made him berate himself because he was supposed to be better than this. But one look into Sylvia’s pretty blue eyes and it was over. Everything he felt for her came rushing towards the forefront of his still mending heart, eager to break down the delicate walls that had yet to properly rebuild.

“You beat Danny Preston.” Calum was both glad and surprised Sylvia was the one to break the silence, the lump in his throat preventing him from doing so, and the ringing in his ears apparently not loud enough to miss the nervous tint in her voice. At least she was just as overwhelmed by this as he was. He met her gaze, watched her nod along slowly. “That’s—he was someone you really wanted to beat and, uh, it was—congratulations.”

Calum wondered if the lights weren’t so dim if he’d be able to see the heat that would spread across Sylvia’s cheeks, which happened whenever she nervously stumbled over her words. It had been an endearing sight to Calum, always feeling a bit captivated over his effortless ability to make her blush, and it felt like a slap in the face when he discovered the mere thought of it still had his heart leaping—even if it was lodged in his throat.

Her words struck him. She remembered his desire to beat Preston, something he had never been shy about when they dated. Calum had always voiced his ambitions when it came to his goals within the ring, words Sylvia had heard repeatedly, words that eventually drove her away.

“Thank you.” His words felt too formal, too strange falling from his own mouth, yet Calum couldn’t help it. God, after a victorious fight he’d always find Sylvia and kiss her if the blood wasn’t in the way. He’d celebrate with her. But then she left, and Calum hadn’t been in the mood to celebrate for a while, and then eventually just went to get drinks with the guys. That had become a routine, one he had bitterly come to terms with. Now she was in front of him, and it was going to shit. They no longer had a standing, and it was shit. Forcing himself to forgo clearing his throat like he was itching to do so, Calum stated in a too casual, too indifferent tone, “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Sylvia rubbed her lips together, shoulders raising to her ears as she tucked her hands in the back pockets of her shorts. Her entire demeanor was nothing if not guarded, as if she was meeting someone new for the first time and wasn’t sure how to act. Calum would be lying if he said that didn’t sting. “Didn’t expect to be here,” she responded truthfully, letting a breathy, barely-there smile slip. A lock of wavy blonde hair was untucked from behind her ear, the tendril grazing her cheek, and Calum’s fingers itched to push it back. “Luann kind of. . . Ambushed me.” She turned sheepish. “I thought we were going out for drinks.”

Truthfully, a pang of disappointment thudded through his chest at the knowledge of Sylvia being here not out of her own decision making but because she’d basically been dragged without consideration. Seeing Sylvia out in the crowd whenever he had a fight had always been thrilling, never a distraction. When his eyes would land on her, the drive to fight harder would ignite with new purpose, and for a while Calum had to figure out how to keep going when she’d left. His anger and heartbreak had helped, but it wasn’t as strong as the relief and passion that had once been there.

Calum bit the inside of his lower lip, brief and sharp, before releasing a quick breath and responding flatly, “Sorry to disappoint.”

He wondered if he imagined the flinch that had Sylvia shrinking into herself. “No, i-it wasn’t—I didn’t mean—” Sylvia cut herself off, and despite the mixed emotions in Calum’s heart and mind that he didn’t dare entangle himself in at the moment, he did feel the selfish sting of satisfaction at the sight of her getting flustered at his comment. Pressing her lips together, Sylvia let out a deep breath through her nose as she calmed herself down before stating, “You didn’t. That fight. . . It was amazing.” Her throat worked. “You’d always been impressive in the ring.”

That’s why you left, isn’t it?

Keeping the bitter words tamed on his tongue, Calum pressed his lips together as he offered a tight yet somewhat appreciative smile. How ironic that Sylvia was complimenting him on the very thing that had ultimately driven her away.

The smile, if it could even be called that, faltered on Calum’s face as the drum of his heart began increasingly pounding him in his ears. He desperately wished he could focus on anything but the woman in front of him, and it irked him that he couldn’t. Even after being broken up, Sylvia still held a certain grip of power over him that rendered him completely submissive to her. And Calum Hood was anything but submissive.

His adam’s apple bobbed. “What’re you doin’ here, Sylvia?”

Her name rolled off his tongue too deliciously, a shiver running down her spine. But the tone of his voice had Sylvia’s throat working once more, but if his demeanor affected her too much, she didn’t let it show more than that. “Nana’s been sick lately,” she told him truthfully. “Mom had been around to help but she had to get back to work so, uh, I came to stay with her.”

At the mention of her grandmother, Calum’s forehead smoothened out and a shot of worry rushed through his body, accompanied by a weighing guilt. Sylvia’s grandmother, whom they all fondly referred to as Nana as well, was the sweetest woman Calum knew, who always made sure he knew he was welcomed into her home. The knowledge of her being ill tightened Calum’s dried throat, thinking of when he’d seen her last—right before he and Sylvia broke up, with blue eyes as bright as her granddaughter’s and dark brown greying hair always kept at a bob. God, he hadn’t visited her maybe once or twice after his relationship with Sylvia ended, and he felt like shit about it.

Despite whatever he may feel for Sylvia, Calum found himself inquiring, “Is she okay?”

“Just getting old, you know?” she responded with a small, empathetic smile. Blue eyes met brown. “Her heart’s not as strong as it used to be.”

Calum wanted to laugh, bitterly and humorlessly, as he gazed at the woman in front of him. He and Nana had that in common.

                                                          *****

Honestly, Calum was surprised he found himself in front of the house. He stood on the stoned pathway leading up to the one story house, the garden bright and green with colorful rose bushes, well maintained and as beautiful as he remembered them. As he remained in place, the hot Los Angeles sun beating down on him and his leather jacket trapping the heat within his body, Calum wondered if Nana was well enough to maintain the greenery outside or if Sylvia had a hand in doing so. And then, swiftly, he wondered if it was a good idea of him being here.

His and Sylvia’s impromptu reunion had happened day before yesterday and Calum could just. . . Not stop thinking. His mind only consisted of Sylvia and her arrival, and then he thought of Nana and her health, and the guilt squeezed at his heart like a fist reaching into his chest and clenching it tightly. He hadn’t been able to sleep, plagued with thoughts of the pretty blonde who’d made a reappearance in his life, staring at the grey ceiling of his bedroom and remembering, more than usual, the nights he spent with Sylvia entangled in the very sheets he was sleeping under.

And then he thought of Nana, and the guilt returned. Just because things between him and Sylvia hadn’t worked out, didn’t mean he should’ve stopped seeing Nana. Disrespectful, is that what that was.

So, swallowing the dryness that apparently found home in his throat, Calum attempted to clear it as his gaze dropped to his Converse, watching his feet as he walked up the three steps and reached the front door of the landscaped house. He’d definitely had craved a smoke before arriving, but Calum wasn’t about to show up to Nana’s place stinking of cigarettes. God, he wasn’t even sure why he was here in the first place, knowing he was risking running into Sylvia when he just wanted to see Nana.

He vehemently ignored the part of his mind telling him he wanted to run into Sylvia, too. But he told himself he didn’t. He was indifferent.

Calum rubbed his hands down the back of his jeans after ringing the doorbell, faintly hearing it ring throughout the house inside, patiently yet nervously waiting for it to be answered. His shoulders were tense, suddenly wondering what the hell he was supposed to say to Nana, wondering if this impulsive decision was a good one. He couldn’t lie, not to that woman. Shit, this wasn’t well thought—

“Calum!” His head snapped up as the door swung open, and in front of him stood a woman who just barely came up to his chest, small with grey overtaking her dark hair, thinner than he’d remembered, but eyes as bright a blue he recalled. Nana’s lips spread into a smile, wrinkles and smile lines decorating her face as she looked up at him as if this wasn’t the first time in a year he was visiting her. “I almost didn’t recognize you with that hair,” she laughed, looking all too joyous at the sight of him, more than he knew he deserved. “Come here, sweetheart, I missed you!”

He tried desperately not to notice the way her hands, somewhat veiny, shook when she reached up for him, and Calum quickly returned a genuine smile as he bent himself down enough to rest his chin on her shoulder so she could do the same for him. He felt Nana’s arms wrap around his shoulders, his own hugging her frame to his chest as the familiar scent of cinnamon and sugar engulfed him. In his arms, she felt just as small as she looked, and Calum felt his heart tug.

“Missed you too, Nana. Had to come see how you were doin’,” he returned sincerely, gruffly, before they pulled away and returned the smile she was beaming at him. “Beautiful as ever.”

She grinned, patting his chest fondly before shuffling back into the house. “Always a charmer. Come on in, it’s burning up out here.”

He followed her inside, shutting the door behind her before routinely toeing off his shoes. Looking around, nostalgia washed over Calum in waves, taking in the auburn colored walls with picture frames decorating them, all ones Calum had seen before. The wood paneled floors and living room filled with throw pillows and blankets remained the same, a sense of comfort and home hitting Calum the further inside he walked the familiar house. It all still looked the same, down to the wonderful scent of honey he could faintly detect in the air, and it was like he never stopped visiting. But he had, and Calum wanted to make up for it.

“Do you want some tea, sweetheart? I was just about to make some,” Nana offered, making her way to the kitchen connected to the living room.

Calum’s head snapped over to her, averting his gaze from a photograph of Nana and a five year old Sylvia with a wide grin with missing teeth and blonde pigtails, a picture he used to tease her about. Registering what Nana said, Calum clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. “No, no. I’ll be makin’ the tea, Nana.”

He didn’t give her a chance to argue, walking around her and stepping into the kitchen as he caught sight of the kettle and grabbed it to pour some water in. Calum was well aware offering to make the tea didn’t even begin to put him on the path of forgiveness for just abandoning Nana after the break up, but he still wanted to do it. He heard her make a sound of protest before faltering into soft chuckles, feeling her eyes on him as he clicked the stove on and settled the kettle on top before maneuvering around the kitchen with familiarity, grabbing the mugs from the drawer to the right of the sink and the tea bags from the cabinet next to the stove.

“How’ve you been, honey?” Nana inquired once Calum turned to face her, watching as she gestured for him to follow her into the living room. She settled on the couch, a soft sigh of a grunt passing her lips as she sat, before patting the spot next to her as she looked at Calum. As he sat, he saw her blue eyes take in the sight of him, raising a grey eyebrow. “Still fighting, hmm?”

Calum noticed the way her gaze zeroed in on the bruise that had bloomed on his jaw, probably noticing the small cut across the bridge of his nose as well. His fights, illegal as they may be, weren’t a secret to Nana, Calum knew. And while she never judged him, never said anything heinous or offending towards his decision of partaking in those kinds of fights, there was a part of Calum that felt almost ashamed of being a fighter when he was in front of Nana. Despite her being the most open and accepting older woman he’d ever met, despite her congratulating him with happy hugs and encouraging words every time he won a fight, Calum felt a hint of shame for being involved in what he was and Nana knowing about it. He knew it was because she worried about him, knew she always eyed him with maternal concern whenever she saw so much as a scratch on him and he hated that he disquieted her with that.

“Yes, I am,” he answered honestly, lips twitching into a small, almost apologetic smile as he looked at her.

“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing,” Nana responded, laughing lightly as Calum linked his ring clad fingers together, knees apart and arms resting on top of them, slouched forward. “It’s something you’re good at. Be proud of it,” she said, patting his leg before adding, “Sylvia told me you won against Danny Preston. Congratulations, honey, I’m sure that was a victory worth the wait.” He couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at his lips at Nana’s words, feeling his heart swell at the knowledge of her recalling his rivalry with Preston. He tried not to think of Sylvia talking to her grandmother about him, the thought lurching his heart. Nana’s smile turned soft, inquiring, “Have you seen Sylvia again since she’s returned?”

Looking back at Nana, Calum saw the glint in her eyes, soft yet knowing, and he ducked his head with a shake of it while letting out a near amused, breathy laugh. “You know I have, Nana,” he said, voice carrying a chuckling rasp as he saw through her faux curiosity. Sylvia and Nana were so close, a fact Calum was well aware of, and had no doubt a discussion about reuniting the other day. Nana’s questioning was just her trying to pry some information out of Calum, gage his reaction, which he truthfully found amusing.

She let out a laugh, not at all apologetic, as she leaned back. “I wanted to be gentle in my questioning. Didn’t want to send you running for the hills again.”

Her words, though they were teasing, had Calum’s heart dropping to the pit of his stomach, a harsh reminder of how much of an asshole he was abandoning Nana when her granddaughter abandoned him. He had so much love for this woman next to him, who never judged his lifestyle the way his own parents did, who was proud of him for what he was doing in the ring and outside of it, which was working odd jobs wherever he could find them when he didn’t have a fight. He did whatever work he could find and made people bleed, and as morbid as the latter was, they all paid the bills and he was happy doing them both. Nana was one of the only people, outside his small group of friends, who understood that. How could he just leave her?

Calum’s gaze dropped, looking down at his linked hands as he squeezed his bruised fingers, feeling the bite of his own rings into his skin as the tension had his veins standing out. He took a deep breath in, deep voice thick with shame and apology as he squeezed his eyes shut and began, “Nana, I’m so sorry for disappearing on you like that. It was disrespectful and fu—really awful of me and I’m s—”

“You were heartbroken.” Nana’s voice was firm yet understanding, and Calum opened his eyes before reluctantly shifting his gaze to her. There wasn’t a smile on her face anymore, but a gentleness in the softness of her aged features and blue of her eyes—he noticed some grey melding into the irises, squashed the thought of wondering if Sylvia’s would do the same as she grew older—as she gazed at him. “You and Sylvia were no longer in a relationship, Calum. It’s understandable that you didn’t want to visit the grandmother of the girl who broke your heart—” She ducked her head, eyeing him knowingly, and Calum could feel the beginnings of his stomach churning, “—especially when the love is still there.”

Calum started, back straightening and he couldn’t control the widening of his eyes, once again realizing where Sylvia was concerned, it was like Calum had no power over even himself. The couch cushion shifted under his weight as he leaned away from Nana, who didn’t at all look perturbed by his reaction, as he began stammering like an idiot, “Nana, I do—”

The shrill whistle of the kettle cut him off and Nana smiled. “Tea’s ready.”

Her grin was far too innocent for someone who drained all the blood from Calum’s face, and he stood up before narrowing his eyes at the older woman. “This isn’t over,” he stated, turning to walk to the kitchen as he willed his head to stop spinning.

Nana chuckled from behind him. “Yes, yes. Get the tea and come back so you can fight a sick elderly woman.”

The teasing in her tone was far too reminiscent of Sylvia’s, always prodding him into innocent and amusing silly arguments they both got laughs out of. Calum understood where she got it from, being mostly raised by the woman in the living room.

He swiftly prepared their cups of tea, remembering how Nana liked hers, his mind busy with thoughts of Sylvia. Being in this house, the childhood home she grew up in, had every aspect of his brain overflowing with the thought of his ex. For a long time, Calum had thought he had moved on from her, that Sylvia and his relationship with her was in the past and he was allowed to find someone else, maybe, or just be happy with how things were with him. He genuinely believed that. Or, maybe, let himself think that way.

But one mere glance at her and Calum was terrifyingly realizing that he hadn’t, in fact moved on. That what he thought was him going forward in life was just a phase of out of sight, out of mind in regards of Sylvia being gone. How idiotic of him to think that the love he had for her would leave when she did.

Returning to the living room, Calum felt himself uncharacteristically and awkwardly stumble between tripping over his own feet and freezing in place at the sight of Sylvia standing in the living room, a single brown bag of groceries in her arms as she immediately and confusedly look at Calum. It was probably a sight, Calum thought, of him standing in the entryway of the kitchen in her grandmother’s house, standing on sock clad feet and holding two steaming mugs of tea in tattooed, ring clad hands. He knew she didn’t expect to see him there, and while Calum knew there was definitely a possibility of him running into Sylvia while visiting Nana, the sight of her standing there in a baby blue sundress with sunglasses atop her head to push her blonde hair away had Calum’s chest tightening almost too suddenly.

“Oh,” Sylvia sounded, gaze flickering between Nana and Calum, the bewilderment and surprise clear on her face as her throat worked. “I didn’t. . . Know you had company.”

The awkward tension was thick in her voice, the bag she held in her arms crackling too loudly as she shifted it. It was enough to have Calum breaking his gaze from her, jaw tight as he moved back to the living room to hand Nana her mug, a too tight grip on his own. “Calum just dropped by to catch up,” Nana informed after taking a sip of her tea, sitting sideways on the couch so she could easily look between Calum standing by her and Sylvia behind the couch. “Why don’t you join us?”

Calum loosened his tight jaw to take a sip of the tea, ignoring the sizzling burn on his tongue as he forced down the hot beverage, eyes involuntarily flickering over the rim of the ceramic mug to look at the blonde. He watched as Sylvia shot her grandmother a look, one he easily read as warning panic, before her eyes met his. In the light of the early afternoon sun pouring through the living room windows, Calum saw the flush in Sylvia’s cheeks at the notion of her being caught by him looking so flustered, immediately looking away.

She tightened the grip on the bag. “I have to put the groceries away,” Sylvia quickly muttered, rushed with the words blending together before swiftly making her way to the kitchen, not meeting anyone else’s gazes as she tried to put as much distance between herself and Calum as she could.

The scent of coconut that Sylvia left in her wake threatened to send a shiver down Calum’s spine before he caught it, not at all physically wanting to be caught in the nostalgia her familiar smell brought.

The sound of Sylvia putting the groceries away could be heard from behind Calum, and he fought the urge every cell in his body was igniting to turn around and watch her. She had a pull on him, like the opposite end of a magnet he was attracted to and was constantly being drawn towards. Of course, those sensations only began taking over him once more when she came back into his life. Calum figured the distance between Los Angeles and San Francisco was too much for her to have the same effect.

Except, Calum knew, that even when Sylvia was gone the overwhelming desire to go after her was suffocating. But she didn’t want him, and he needed to cope.

His gaze met Nana’s, who was still poised on the couch and looking up at him with the knowing glint returned in his light eyes. Calum felt the muscles in his back began to ache at the tension gathered, the sensation not unfamiliar from his time in the ring, slightly uncomfortable against Nana’s gaze.

She lowered her mug, holding it to her lap. “Pretending your relationship didn’t exist isn’t going to help matters.” Nana jutted her chin towards the kitchen. “Talk to her.”

Calum looked down at his own mug, the tea surprisingly nearly finished, though that’s what happened when he kept drinking it to avoid looking at or talking to Sylvia. He wondered if Nana had any idea how difficult her advice would be to follow; to actually go into the kitchen to talk to Sylvia. He wasn’t a coward—God, he wasn’t, and having to tell himself that repeatedly since Sylvia’s arrival was exhausting—but he just did not want to talk to her. He didn’t want to potentially open up old wounds that had yet to heal nor did he want to gain any reasons to be inflicted by new ones.

That girl had broken his heart. Ignoring the acknowledgement that his love for her was still so vehemently present, ignoring the ache it brought to know she most likely didn’t feel the same way, was better for him. For now, he didn’t need to have any kind of conversation. For now, he was fine with acting as if her presence did absolutely nothing for him.

“I can’t, Nana,” Calum finally told her, raspy voice a low mumble as he put the mug down on the coffee table, rubbing his hands down his jeans clad thighs. His eyes, for a moment, gazed around the living room he’d been in so many times before, yet somehow, right now, it felt like he was being smothered. Smothered by Sylvia’s childhood home and the countless days and nights he spent with her here when they weren’t at his apartment, by the memories that had been circling the outskirts of his thoughts like a predator ready to feed off the vulnerability he felt just by being there. Standing in this house made Calum feel like everything he worked hard not to be and, frankly, wasn’t unless Sylvia was in the picture: weak, anxious, unguarded.

Nana sighed. “Calum—”

“I’ll be back soon, yeah?” he gently cut her off, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I promise I’ll visit more,” he added sincerely, raising his eyebrows subtly to let her know he meant it. No more disappearing on a sweet old woman who he adored. Calum could still hear Sylvia shuffling about in the kitchen, and he pressed his lips together before bending down and kissing Nana’s cheek. “Bye, Nana.”

Calum felt her arms raise to give him a hug, still sitting down as he remained crouched to return the embrace. “Things will work out, sweetheart,” she assured him quietly in his ears. A knowing tint took over her voice, as if the wisdom she’s carried with her all these years was being accredited to the reassurance she was offering Calum. “A grandmother knows these things.”

He wanted to smile, to let out a quiet agreeing laugh and tell her he believed it. But Sylvia’s coconut scent was still lingering in his nose despite only being around her for thirty seconds and pictures of her in all stages of life were staring back at Calum, mocking him that he probably wouldn’t get to know her as continue to move forward with their lives.

It felt cruel and it twisted Calum’s heart painfully. He didn’t look back into the kitchen to where Sylvia was as he shoved his feet back into his sneakers and left the home. He didn’t look back, because his tense muscles refused to let him do so and because he’s had to watch her walk away from him. Even if she wasn’t looking at him now, couldn’t do so because it hurt her just as much as it did him, with bright blue eyes he often got lost in, at least it was him walking away this time. No matter how much he felt the pull to go right into the kitchen to where Sylvia was and—

He didn’t know what he was going to do if he went back in there. With Sylvia, he didn’t know what the fuck to do anymore.

                                                           *****

What they had was in the Before. Before—with a capital B, because when everything ended they were living in the After where it felt desolate and confusing and unknown. Because in the After, she wasn’t sure how to live a life that didn’t have him in it. The Before. . . It was perfect, almost. She was happy because she had him. He was there to hold her and kiss her and make her laugh, he made her feel like the most important person in the room, like every word she uttered held a great meaning to him.

Perfect, though, didn’t last forever. Because having to watch him get hurt, having to see him lying in a hospital bed more than once, having to feel so helpless during those occasions, felt as though a bullet was tearing through her heart and ricocheting around her body and sparing nothing to be damaged. It was dramatic, maybe, but loving someone that much shouldn’t have been so painful. It shouldn’t have felt as though she was struggling to keep up with her emotions, it shouldn’t have felt as though she was drowning when she couldn’t do so.

This place. .  . This was in the Before, and being there again was a stupid idea. Sylvia wondered, not for the first time, if Luann had some kind of agenda against her, specifically in regards of dragging Sylvia to places that she didn’t feel like she belonged in. First it was the Underground, bringing her to watch her ex’s match without her knowledge. Tonight, it was a get together. Which would be fine, seeing as it was filled with people she used to socially see all the time and had ultimately reduced to only seeing through social media posts after moving but was now reconnecting with them fully, except for the fact that it was Ashton’s get together in the apartment he shared with Calum. In the very apartment that Sylvia had been in multiple times before, in the very apartment she so clearly remembered being pressed against the wall and spread like a damn meal on the kitchen counter and feeling the air rush out of her through breathless laughter by feeling fingers tickling her body.

Everything was familiar, everything felt so eerily the same with the black leather couch and the records of bands loved by both Ashton and Calum framed on the walls and plants placed in corners and by windows. The people were the same too as Sylvia greeted those she knew, a few faces around the apartment new. It relaxed her a bit, the mixed drink in her cup helping ease her nerves, being able to talk to those she knew who conversed with her as if she had never left.

She and Luann had been getting coffee earlier that morning and ended up running into Ashton, leaving with an iced coffee in hand and red hair hidden under a beanie Sylvia couldn’t help but think it was too hot for. He greeted them with smiles and reminded Luann about a gathering type thing he was having at his place and then invited Sylvia since she was in town and everyone missed her. She had smiled, told him she’d drop by, even though she had planned to not go at all. Because Ashton lived with Calum, and even though his friends were some of hers as well, Sylvia wasn’t entirely sure about going to his apartment to hang out. Even though he’d shown up at her place without her knowing the other day.

But Luann all but dragged her over, insisting that because Sylvia was invited by a friend she had every right to attend despite the presence of her ex. Sylvia had argued but Luann was a stubborn one. Sometimes it was fun because Luann was always bringing Sylvia out of her comfort zone, and she had missed that while in San Francisco. In regards to this situation, though, Sylvia could’ve done without.

However, her drink was tasty and the conversations were easy and Calum. . . Wasn’t around.

Sylvia had arrived to the apartment alongside Luann about an hour ago, getting hugged by Michael and Ashton and then meeting a bunch of friends she hadn’t seen in a while as she tried to ignore the churn of twisting nostalgia she felt entering the familiar home. There were so many memories that she’d gathered during the year she had been dating Calum along with the couple of months prior where she had met him and the rest of the boys. Every single one tried to play through her mind as she wandered into the apartment, and Sylvia desperately tried to distract herself with drinks and mingling so she didn’t lose herself in the sentimentality of the past.

“First the ring and now his own home? You trying to win him back or something?”

The judgemental accusation in Luke’s voice wasn’t lost in the music playing throughout the apartment, prompting Sylvia to turn around from where she was facing the counter to pour herself another drink. Her gaze flickered up from her filled cup, looking ahead at the wall with shoulders tensing before her fingers wrapped around the cup and she slowly turned around with muscles going rigid in an act of defense.

Luke stood in front of her now, tall and blonde with an unimpressed expression peering down at her as he slowly raised his bottle of beer to his lips. “What?” Sylvia laughed out in surprise, eyebrows shooting up at the incredulity his words brought. Not just his words, though, but the way he uttered them; as if the very idea was something he was vehemently against and wasn’t going to hesitate on showing. “Win hi—I’m not trying to win him back?”

Her response came out as a question, eyebrows furrowing together in the middle of her reply because she wasn’t entirely sure how to answer. Especially with Luke standing in front of her, broad shoulders making him look like the most intimidating person she’s ever met and blonde hair not at all assisting in the angelic features he normally had. Right now, he was all judgment and not at all the friend she used to have, expression twisted into a disapproving look as he looked down at her in more than just the physical aspect.

“Then what’re you doing here?” Luke questioned, pulling his lips back and teeth baring briefly after he took a sip, dimples flashing briefly.

“I—” Sylvia hated that she felt an anxious ball of lead settle in her stomach, blinking up at Luke. The unhesitant hostility he was expressing tightened her throat, the initial feeling of not belonging she experienced when she went to the Underground the other day coming back fully. “Ashton invited me.” Straightening her shoulders, Sylvia clenched her jaw briefly as she added more firmly, “And Luann told me to come. If you’ve got an issue, take it up with them because clearly they’re fine with me being here.”

She’d found some courage within herself as she spoke to Luke, tone hardened and lips pursing defiantly after she spoke. Sylvia understood Luke wasn’t her biggest fan, his relationship with her best friend not doing much to allow him to forgive her for what she did to his best friend. God knows Sylvia would probably be acting the same way towards an ex of Luann’s who hurt her the way Sylvia hurt Calum. But it seemed as though Luke was forgetting that Calum wasn’t the only one who had been hurt after what happened, that he wasn’t the only one whose heart had broken after the end of their relationship.

Or, maybe since the break up had been Sylvia’s idea, her feelings after the fact didn’t matter.

She saw the clench of Luke’s jaw under the facial hair he was sporting, one eyebrow twitching to a raise subtly as he maintained the hard, intense eye contact. “Hanging around your ex’s apartment, the same ex who you dumped because you couldn’t bring yourself to be supportive and, you know, didn’t keep in contact with, is kind of a selfish move, Sylvia.”

His words were factual and snippy, but what really stung Sylvia was the casual way he spoke them in, as if this was exactly what Luke expected of Sylvia. Like she was the kind of person who broke hearts and then returned to rub it in the person’s face. And it made her feel nauseous, not at all believing it was the fruity alcoholic drink she was currently nursing, but the notion of her being selfish and the insinuation that she purposefully decided to hurt Calum because she just couldn’t be with him anymore. She loved him. God, she loved him so much and a part of her knew that she still did; so the accusation of her intentionally hurting Calum and the reminder that she did tightened Sylvia’s throat and made her want to throw up all at the same time.

The burning sensation was present in her eyes, but the tears weren’t those of upset or hurt—they were angry and frustrated because while she had been the one to break up with Calum, why was it okay to act as if she hadn’t hurt herself in the process?

“You know damn well why I broke up with him, Luke,” Sylvia hissed after finding her tongue, voice strained through the lump in her throat as her eyebrows drew together, glaring up at the blonde. “You know the fighting was getting too much; you know I couldn’t just stand there and watch him get punched and kicked, or sit there by his bedside after he broke his ribs or got a concussion.” Her words were quick and fierce, the anger seeping into them as well as the frightening reminder of all those moments she had to sit through, had to watch the man she loved get beaten during a particularly rough fight to the point he had to be hospitalized. Calum was an amazing fighter, and through that one fight Sylvia witnessed just recently she could tell he only improved. But there had been times where he had to be carried out of the ring, and if Sylvia didn’t love him anymore, she wouldn’t still be having nightmares about it.

She paused, throat working as she took in a deep breath, looking up at Luke whose expression wasn’t entirely accusatory anymore. His jaw was still tight, but Sylvia swore she saw some sympathy, some understanding, in the blue of his irises. Her body felt hot with the frustration and reminiscent pain of everything that happened, blinking as she reeled back slightly and looked down at her cup. “It wasn’t about not being supportive of Calum—” Sylvia looked up, her blue eyes locking with his. “You know I was, Luke. I think he’s incredible, and I know he’s gotten better.” She shrugged, defeated with a pathetically sad smile. “But it’s ruthless down there and every time he got in the ring I was terrified he wouldn’t get out. And if I had to witness something like that, I honestly don’t think I would be able to live through it.”

Her grip on her cup tightened slightly, her emotions laying heavily on her chest and her mouth dry from speaking. The music playing around her did nothing to drown out the sound of her wildly beating heart as it pounded heavily in her ears, her mind swirling with memories of her and Calum. Of shared kisses and secret smiles full of wordless conversations and tender touches that always left her feeling electric. But with that came the memories of a nervous heart and wringing fingers as she watched him get in the ring, watched fists fly and legs kick, and the utter terror of something horrific happening to the man she loved. Because in a ring like that where basically anything goes, Sylvia was lucky she still got to reunite with Calum in the first place.

With him still fighting, the alternate, she knew, was much more fatal.

“If he had stopped, would you’ve stayed?”

Luke’s question had the tendons in Sylvia’s neck tensing, because this wasn’t the first time she considered something like that. It wasn’t the first time she’d be disappointed by her own answer.

Sylvia liked her lips, tasting the bittersweet alcohol on them before she shrugged half heartedly. Pushing herself away from the counter, Sylvia responded tiredly, “He wouldn’t have stopped. It makes him happy.”

She’d already been walking away from Luke, no longer wanting to be a part of a conversation that only reminded her of the constant heartbreak she was fighting so hard to move past and was failing at doing so repeatedly. Still, over the music as she kept walking, she heard Luke’s response, his words just as factual as before, but this time holding a softness that had Sylvia’s heart lurching.

“You made him happier.”

                                                         *****

The smoke curled out of Calum’s lips, tendrils disappearing into the night sky as the taste of nicotine lingered on his tongue and in his lungs. He kept his eyes shut, blonde head tilted back against the bricked wall as he felt the warmth in his body intensify with every drag he took, washing over him in calming waves relaxing his muscles. Medically speaking, it wasn’t entirely a good idea to have a smoke minutes before he was to go into the ring and face off with someone since it would probably impair his breathing. But Calum wasn’t one for too many good ideas.

Which, as if on cue, could be proved when he opened his eyes and caught sight of the blonde woman stepping out of the bar across the street. Calum’s head straightened, eyebrows drawing together and eyes narrowing so he could see through the semi darkness of the late evening, the only lights being provided by the street lamps and store fronts. Even so, Calum could easily make out Sylvia walking out of the bar, running her fingers through her short blonde hair as she moved with quick purpose, eyebrows furrowing after he blinked in surprise when he recognized her.

The street between them was a one way, narrow with not much space between either side of it, and because of the lack of distance Calum could make out the expression on Sylvia’s face. Could see the controlled panic in her alarmed eyes and quick movements as she clutched her purse in one hand. For a moment, Calum wondered what had her moving so fast, until the door to the bar behind her swung open and out came a man definitely taller and bigger than Sylvia, with meaty hands reaching out to try and grab an obviously unwilling woman.

As he understood what was happening, Calum’s entire body tensed as the blood in his veins instinctively began boiling. He pushed himself away from the wall, cigarette dropping forgotten on the pavement as his sharp eyes assessed the situation from a distance, slowly and cautiously walking closer to the sidewalk with no intention of walking away.

Calum watched, hands clenching, as the guy’s hand wrapped around Sylvia’s arm, heard her exclaim in defiant protest from where she was, and that was enough to have Calum pushing off into a run. He barely glanced down the street to make sure a car wasn’t coming, sneakers thudding against the pavement as he reached the opposite sidewalk. It wasn’t as busy in the alley of a street, most people inside the bars or down in the ring watching whatever fight was taking place. It was eerily empty outside, which made it a horrifyingly perfect place for vile men to try to pull some shit with an unsuspecting woman. It was happening right in front of Calum and the fact that it was happening to Sylvia was only fueling the bloodlust he felt, reserved for his fight in a few minutes.

“Come on—you can’t be sittin’ there lookin’ like that and not expect me to want a taste.”

The repulsive words the guy was laughing out could be heard loud and clear in Calum’s ears as he neared them, both unaware of his threatening, purposeful strides towards them.

Calum saw Sylvia jerk under the guy’s grip, blue eyes widening in a mixture of panic and protesting anger—alarmed at the stronger man’s insistence and absolutely pissed that some guy had put his hands on her. Calum could see the fight or flight struggling for dominance in her eyes, but his own decision had already been made.

“’Ey!” Calum ground out once he was close enough, catching both of their attention with the deep baritone of his growling voice. He didn’t look at Sylvia, glare focused on the fucker who was still holding onto her. Calum clenched his fists; he was two seconds away from ripping the guy’s arm off. “Get your hand off of her before I fuckin’ break it.”

Calum saw the guy open his mouth, probably to add fuel to the fire, until a car drove past and the headlights briefly lit against Calum’s strong, intimidating features. Recognition flashed across the guy’s face as he caught sight of the shadowed, glaring attributes of Calum’s face , and maybe he wasn’t as drunk or as much of an idiot as he seemed because his hand was instantly letting go of Sylvia, taking a step back as he cursed, “Jesus—fuck—you’re Cal—you’re Hood.”

It was no secret that Calum Hood was a well known name on these streets, in this area, due to the reputation he’s accumulated for himself with every fight down below he’s won. No matter how many bruises discolored his skin or how much blood surfaced from his body after a fight, he had been damn near undefeated. And then he won against Danny Preston, effectively knocking him off the unofficial/official title of champion, and the fear Calum’s name brought only increased since then. A king in the ring, Calum was the fighter everyone bet on, that no one particularly wanted to go up against because while there were others who may be taller and even more built than him, it Calum’s focused determination and unforgiving strength that made him the best.

Their makeshift fight club wasn’t something they all went talking about, but its existence wasn’t a secret for those who worked along this street and who frequented it. Calum was, essentially, a household name; a name he worked tirelessly with blood and sweat to build up to be feared. And, when need be, he wasn’t afraid of using it to his own advantage.

“Yeah, I am,” Calum responded, voice tight with bubbling anger as he stalked closer. It was satisfying to watch the shaggy dark haired guy, an inch shorter than Calum yet impressively built, take a few steps back to put some distance. The fear that flashed across his blue eyes was the icing on the cake. Calum never wavered his gaze, strong and intense with dark eyes narrowed in mocking challenge because it was painfully obvious this guy didn’t have the balls to go up against him. Cocking an eyebrow, Calum questioned, “You gonna walk away from her now or am I gonna ’ave to do it myself?”

The guy left without another word, stumbling slightly as he did so, and the cowardice and Calum only having to use his words and not fists would’ve been funny if it weren’t for the circumstance of the situation. Calum watched him go, eyes burning his back until he disappeared around the corner, and Calum’s jaw ached from how tightly he’d been clenching it. He only loosened it when his lips parted, eyes finally landing on the woman standing in front of him, who’d ducked her head as she ran both her hands through her blonde hair.

Calum didn’t even wait for her to speak up when he demanded, “What the hell are you doin’ out here by yourself?”

Sylvia’s head snapped up to look at Calum, blue eyes meeting brown as her glossed lips parted. She looked momentarily surprised at his harsh tone, long lashes framing her blinking eyes before she started, “I was ju—I was having drinks with friends and I—”

“Decided to leave the bar so some drunk asshole could follow you out here where you’re alone?” Calum cut her off, frown deepening at the stupidity of her decision. He knew what had just happened was probably daunting for her, being approached by a persisting stranger, but the sight of it had Calum burning from the inside out. His anger towards the guy was mixed with the sheer panic of something happening to Sylvia. A soft, incredulous scoff escaped Calum as he gave a shake of her head, taking in the berated frown furrowing at her brows. “What would’ve happened if I hadn’t been out here, huh?” he continued to question, voice deep and sharp as he tilted his head, eyes narrowed. “What if no one was here and that guy—”

“What do you want me to say, Calum? That I’m sorry?” Sylvia interrupted, her own voice coated with frustration and maybe even annoyance. Calum wanted to laugh; was she seriously getting annoyed with him? She slapped her hands on her legs. “Well, I’m sorry for being an idiot. My friends left and I was panicking and I don’t think when I panic, alright?”

The scoff escaped Calum before he could help it, rolling his eyes and looking away as he muttered, “Yeah, no shit.”

His jaw clenched after he said that, and from his peripheral he saw Sylvia’s tense shoulders drop slightly, her own lips pressing together as she heard his words. It wasn’t lost on her that he was referring to when she ended their relationship, bitterly reminiscing the panic she had felt being in a relationship with an underground, illegal fighter that ultimately brought her to leave him. A decision that hung over both of them to this day.

Silence fell upon the two, distantly hearing the music pumping within the few bars scattered along the street, yet the sounds might as well be falling upon deaf ears. They were trapped in a thick bubble of tension, standing just a couple of feet away from one another while trying to both relax from the situation that just occurred as well as find a way out of the heart pinching discomfort Calum’s three word response brought.

Anger and hurt circled them both at different levels, with Sylvia as the one who’d reluctantly turned her back and Calum left to pick up his own broken pieces. He wondered if she felt the same tightness in her body as he did, one that rendered him frozen as he was struck with memories of a relationship ended against his will. He wondered if Sylvia felt guilty, if she’d shed tears when she left him. He wondered if she still cared.

He hated that he still wondered.

Calum heard her take in a soft breath, his gaze still on the brick wall to his left as Sylvia spoke in a calm, calculated tone that she probably thought didn’t expose any emotion, but Calum could hear the hurt she was trying to mask over a thick layer of indifference. “Thanks for helping me out,” she said after lightly clearing her throat. It was painfully satisfying, Calum realized, to know he still could tell what she was feeling just by her tone of voice. Could tell that she was trying to appear unaffected by his stinging comment and find an escape before things got worse as she added, “I’m gonna call an Uber and be out of here.”

“The fuck you are,” was Calum’s instant response, head turning to look at her again. He didn’t have any control over what she did, Calum knew that, but letting her get into an Uber in this side of town was not going to settle well with him. Ignoring the bewildered expression on her face, Calum added, “I’ll take you home. After the fight.”

Sylvia’s eyes widened, body tensing. “After the—no!” Her voice found some of its stubborn, eyebrows drawing together in protest as she humorlessly laughed out, “I’m not gonna watch you fight, Calum. No. I’ll just call a ride, you don’t have to take me home. I think you’ve met your heroic quota for the day.”

He was getting irritated, her protesting only annoying him more, but getting pissed at Sylvia wasn’t going to do him any favors. But Calum was just so damn frustrated at Sylvia; at her for putting herself in a potentially dangerous situation because he knew she was smarter than that, and because he couldn’t fucking differentiate between his own feelings. The anger was mixing in with the ever-present hurt and the consistent heartbreaking love he felt for the woman in front of him. Her presence fucking hurt and her refusal to stick around long enough to witness his match was a stinging reminder of why she broke up with him. Because that’s all Calum did; think of Sylvia and how she wasn’t his anymore.

All this love still existed, and it was killing Calum for leaving it untouched.

“It’ll be a two minute match, Sylvia.” Calum spoke with a calmed tone, trying to keep the tight aggravation out of his voice in an attempt of allowing his suggestion to sound more appealing. It was a long shot, given Sylvia’s dislike of fights, but it was worth a try if it meant she didn’t go home by herself. Calum gestured towards the building where the ring was underneath of. “You can sit in the locker room with Mike if you don’t wanna watch. ’M sure he won’t mind.”

Sylvia licked her lips, taking a breath as she began shaking her head. “It’s not necessary, Calum. I can—”

“Please, doll.” The term of endearment slipped past Calum’s mouth before he could even think about it, rolling off his tongue effortlessly as he briefly pressed his lips together. His throat worked at the purse of Sylvia’s lips, trying to hide her own subtle surprise at his use of it. A slip of the tongue, she would think it was. Calum wouldn’t tell her how easy it was to call her something he’d always refer to her as when they’d been together. Wouldn’t tell he how natural it felt to do so. The tension in his voice was gone, the use of the term spreading a softness through his muscles Calum hadn’t seen coming, but didn’t try to fight like he did everything else. The way her eyebrows drew together ever so slightly told Calum that his little slip struck some kind of cord inside her, that in some way, he still had some kind of effect on her.

“I’ll skip the fight and take you home right now if you want.” That, if Calum was being honest, wasn’t something he expected himself to say. But the words had been uttered, almost too easily, and his stomach churned with the realization that he’d much rather Sylvia be safe in her home than have her wait underground where dozens of strange people linger while he engaged in a fight. Even if it meant he’d be forfeiting any potential earnings from the night.

He saw the way Sylvia’s eyes widened ever so slightly at his offer, utterly surprised that he would suggest it. Fighting in that ring had always come first for Calum, for the most part, especially because it was how he made his living. Offering to forgo earning anything struck Sylvia, her chest tightening at the knowledge of him doing so just for her. The fact that he looked so genuine, so ready to do so just so she was home safe, had her throat drying. There had been times where Sylvia would look for reasons to keep Calum out of the ring, too scared of him getting hurt, and now here he was, offering to do so on his own accord.

Then it was her turn to surprise them both. “No.” Calum quirked an eyebrow, the shock evident in just his eyes and Sylvia swallowed. “I can wait.”

                                                        *****

It had been guilt that made her want to wait, Sylvia realized later when she watched Calum step into the ring within the underground cave, surrounded by guttural and gruff cheers with the scent of alcohol, blood and sweat lingering heavily in the air. It had been guilt that made Sylvia tell Calum she was fine with waiting, because watching him now, in trainers and athletic shorts and wrapped up hands with a sternly determined expression on his face and brown eyes glinting with focus, had Sylvia remembering that this was where he belonged.

He was a champion up there; with the dim lights of the cave-like area glowing against his inked brown skin and the warm atmosphere readily providing him a thin layer of sweat before the fight even begun. He was a champion with the spectators cheering him on, knowing he was going to kick his opponent’s ass and win both himself and everyone who bet on him some money. He was a champion because he fought with his entire body and had the drive of a winner, and Sylvia didn’t want to take that away from him.

Which was a slap in the face, seeing as she broke his heart because he wouldn’t give up something he excelled at.

She’d been selfish, Sylvia understood as the fight begun, and she stood quietly between Michael and Ashton in the same spot she’d stood several times during the year she and Calum had been together. Right by the ring, with her eyes on the now blonde fighter, praying that he would win.

It was like nothing had changed, but that was a bitter lie. Calum may still be fighting, Sylvia may still be watching him, and the love they shared may still be present with the other being completely oblivious, but they weren’t together. They were two people unknowingly hurting because they loved the other too much, and neither was aware of how to move past it.

If only they knew what the other was feeling more than just what they showed.

Calum’s hits were perfectly timed and agile, his opponent, Allan, struggling to keep up already. Sylvia was deaf to the noise around her, including the shouts emitted by Ashton, Michael and Luke, a muffled ringing in her ears and gaze focused on Calum. It was reminiscent of how it used to be; of how Sylvia would only ever stand and watch Calum with nails absently picking at one another, eyes tracking his every movement and taking note of any injury he was inflicted by. Her heart remained in a tight knot within her chest, breathing tense and strained out of the familiar worry she felt for the blonde in the ring.

His necklace swung around his neck and hit against his chest with every quick movement, light on his feet as the soft ends of his blonde hair stuck with sweat to his forehead. Sylvia hated that she felt an intrigued twisting in her stomach when she watched the muscles in Calum’s back shift when he delivered a right hook, knuckles connecting with Allan’s jaw, not even giving him a second to recover as his left fist flew with an uppercut and collided with Allan’s chin to knock him on his back.

Sylvia was vaguely aware of everyone’s shouts of approval at the sight, though all she could hear was the sharp breath of relief she exhaled through her nose before swallowing the anxious lump in her throat.

The fight continued when Allan got to his feet after Calum loomed over his body for a few moments, and Sylvia couldn’t look away. It was a morbid kind of fascination, she had determined a year ago, because although the sight of Calum drawing blood from someone else or bleeding himself made her nauseous and pierced her heart, she could never look away. It was like witnessing a car accident; you knew the sight before you was about to be horrific, but tearing your eyes away never crosses your mind. You just keep staring, and Sylvia was intimately familiar with that notion when it came to watching Calum fight.

It was only a small relief that he was so damn good at it. Luke had been right; Calum had improved exponentially. Sylvia would be lying if she said her heart didn’t swell with conflicting pride.

And when Calum soon enough knocked out Allan, standing in the middle of the ring with only a slightly out of breath chest and skin glowing with sweat, his eyes met Sylvia’s. She stood there, clapping for him while the crowd roared with cheers, unable to keep the smile from curling at her lips as she did so. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Sylvia saw his own lips shift into a smile of his own as he watched her clap for him.

It felt like nothing had changed and, for that moment, they pretended it hadn’t.

                                                           *****

“I think it’d be better if you stayed the night.”

Sylvia was well aware her words were in reference to the sudden thunderstorm that hit them out of nowhere, but warmth that spread on her cheeks was insistent when Calum glanced over at her. They were sitting in his car, the familiar scent of mint and leather and Calum overwhelming Sylvia’s senses, parked in the driveway of Nana’s house, as the playlist Calum had on played softly in the background, though it was drowned out by the sound of heavy rain falling outside, the harsh droplets thudding with a subtle echo against the car. Every few seconds lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, and after checking the weather on her phone, Sylvia saw this wasn’t letting up until tomorrow.

When Calum didn’t say anything, the heat in Sylvia’s cheeks annoyingly intensified and she pathetically stammered, “You live on the other side of town and I don’t—it might be too dangerous for you to drive back, y’know? It’s safer for you to stay here, I think.”

The way she gracelessly stumbled over her words was but an aching reminder that things between them had changed. In this moment, Sylvia was nervous around Calum, something she had never been even before they had started dating. With him, everything had been easy. They’d been different; he’d never been closed off from her. They’d instantly clicked as friends, that same energy only helping them in falling for each other ultimately. Happy and in love is what they’d been. Now, there was only room for confusion and frustration it seemed.

Calum eyed Sylvia, took in the way her skin glowed and eyes glittered against the blue lighting of his stereo, the shadows of rain droplets against his windshield bouncing off her pretty face. He refused to let his eyes wander any lower, to let his gaze drop to the V-neckline of the red satin with lace trim spaghetti strapped top she was wearing that made him desperately want to press his lips to the skin of her neck, pretty and in his complete view.

Staying the night at her place had, at one time, meant something else. Calum was pathetically unsure if he had it in him to spend the night under different circumstances.

“’S not necessary,” Calum responded, forcing himself to look ahead out the windshield, muscle in his jaw ticking briefly. “The rain probably isn’t as bad as it lo—”

His words were cut off by the sound of a blaring, familiar alarm going off, the unexpected sound prompting both of them to jump in the leather seats of Calum’s car. Realizing it was coming from both of their phones, Sylvia and Calum pulled out the devices, and his grip on his phone tightened when he saw the Emergency Alert informing them of flash flooding taking place, a sign from the universe that it would be impossible for Calum to drive anywhere, much less back home.

Calum pursed his lips as he cleared the alert, hand wrapped around his phone as he locked it and rested it against his lap. He leaned his head against the seat, staring up at the roof of the car as rain continued to pour relentlessly, and let out a breath that sounded too loud in the otherwise quiet of the car. This was definitely the universe, Calum decided, telling him to stay put against his will.

They were quiet for a tense moment until he heard Sylvia ask, “Wanna go in?”

Calum sucked his teeth before straightening, briefly glancing her way as he killed the engine of the car and pulled out his keys. “Yeah. ’M gonna grab my bag from the trunk.”

They both moved quickly, with Calum running towards the trunk, the cold rain instantly soaking him as his clothes stuck to his body and goosebumps raised on his skin. As he popped open the trunk, he watched through the rain with squinting eyes as Sylvia ran towards the door, reaching the protection of the porch of the house, and Calum quickly pulled out his gym bag before shutting the trunk, locking the car and running up to the house, feeling his sneakers squeak as he did so.

Sylvia was already inside the house when Calum reached the porch, entering quietly as he realized all the lights save for a single lamp in the living room were off, telling him Nana was fast asleep, given that it was nearing midnight. He frowned at the floor, not too keen on getting it wet as he dripped from head to toe, only looking up when he heard the flick of a switch and saw Sylvia standing in the doorway of the bathroom to his left.

For the life of him, he tried not to pay any attention to how her clothes stuck to her body as well, how droplets of water trailed down the column of her throat and line of her collarbones, or the impossibly thin material of her top looked like second skin, the sudden cold weather doing the perfect job of making her nipples peak under the material. Of course she wasn’t wearing a bra.

And given that it was Sylvia, the blood rushed through Calum’s veins a bit too harshly, trying so fucking hard not to remember how his lips felt against her skin when he used to have the pleasure of tasting every inch of her.

“You can change in here,” Sylvia told him, pressing her hands against her short hair to slick it back and over her ears. It gave Calum a wonderful view of her gorgeous face, shining because of the onslaught of rain. Her eyes flickered into the bathroom as she added, “Extra towels are—”

“In the closet by the sink,” Calum finished, prompting Sylvia’s gaze to turn back to him, and he offered a nod with the subtlest quirk of his lips. “I remember.”

Her chin lifted slightly, wishing that didn’t affect her as much as it did, before nodding as she gave a closed mouth smile. “Okay. I’ll, uh,” she paused, a nervous laugh breathlessly tumbling past her lips as she took a step back, “I’ll let you get to it.”

Calum watched her turn around to head down the hall to where her bedroom was, her hand coming up to rub at the back of her neck as her rings glittered briefly under the hallway light. He remained where he stood, feeling the water slide down his skin and drip onto the floor, not missing the way Sylvia allowed herself to glance over her shoulder to look at Calum one last time. Their eyes met once more, briefly as the distance between them grew, and it would be a lie to say the electricity that coursed through their veins at the quickest connection of gazes wasn’t as jolting as the lightning outside.

                                                             *****

The blades of the fan were hypnotizing as he watched them spin, their steady rhythm not doing much to help Calum fall asleep. Instead he lay there, in the guest bedroom of Sylvia’s house, right arm folded behind his head as he found himself wondering how the hell he ended up there. The mattress he laid on was soft and comfortable, and the scent of the room reminded him of autumn and Calum was sure it was because of a candle that had probably been lit earlier, knowing of Nana’s adoration and vast collection of Yankee Candles. The rain outside was coming down fast and thudding against the window to his right, but that had little to do with Calum being unable to fall asleep. It had everything to do with him being in Sylvia Westfield’s home.

Rather than losing himself in thoughts of Sylvia, which Calum had been doing for days now ever since she came back into his life, he got up from the bed with a huff after checking his phone to see that it was only one thirty, only an hour and a half since they’d arrived. His throat felt dry, so he opened the door to make his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water, stopping when he emerged into the living room and caught sight of Sylvia sitting in the dark, the room lit up only by the glow of the television opposite of her as it played at a low volume.

He’d been scratching the back of his head as he walked in, Sylvia oblivious to his presence, and his hand dropped to his side when he neared the couch behind her and gazed at the television. “You still watch Ramsay videos before bed?”

The baritone of his deep, slightly hoarse voice sounding right behind her unexpectedly had Sylvia jumping in surprise where she sat, a gasp choking out of her throat as she leaned to the side to look up at Calum. He returned her gaze, apology mixing with amusement, as she blinked up at him with wide blue eyes. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” she exclaimed in a whisper, pressing a hand to her chest as her shoulders relaxed. When his question registered, Sylvia glanced towards the TV before looking back at Calum, wisps of hair that escaped from her lazy half up-do grazing her cheeks and jaw as she answered, “And yeah, I do.” She quirked a brow. “Wanna join?”

It kind of unnerved Calum that he didn’t really think about it, forgetting all about his water as he walked around the couch and settled onto the couch to Sylvia’s left. She sat with her bare legs crossed, and for a moment Calum regretted his decision to join her when he noticed her in nothing but an oversized UCLA shirt that gathered at her lap. He should’ve known better, should’ve recalled that Sylvia only liked to sleep in big shirts and her underwear because it had always fucking driven him crazy catching sight of her like that. Had always pulled her shirt off or torn away her underwear damn near animalistically because the sight of her dressed in just that had been too inviting.

That, he knew, hadn’t changed.

Hoping to distract himself, Calum looked at the TV, leaning back on the couch as he questioned in reference to the video, “Which one is this?”

“One hour of him hating food,” Sylvia responded with an airy chuckle. “It’s almost done. I was gonna watch videos of him insulting asshole chefs and owners next.”

Calum let out a soft laugh, watching as Gordon Ramsay returning a meal because he couldn’t afford a heart attack. “Still so cynical, aren’t you?” he mused, watching the video playing in front of him. “The fact that watching people get reamed on by Ramsay helps you sleep at night is worrying.”

The teasing tone that slipped into his voice had happened so naturally, so effortlessly, that Calum barely noticed it until Sylvia was letting out a soft giggle and gesturing to the TV with her hand. “If they insist their food is excellent when it obviously isn’t, they should be prepared to get shat on by the King of Mean!”

He couldn’t keep in his own laughter, right arm that had been propped on top of the couch bending as he rubbed the back of his head with his hand. Calum’s smile only widened as his giggles, an adorable mixture of raspy and squeaky, intensified when he watched Ramsay blow off parsley that was decorated on his plate before insulting the salmon he was to eat.

That was how they spent the next hour—or maybe more, since Calum was losing track of time as they continued watching more videos. And that’s all that mattered during that time, because this was familiar. This was something they used to do all the time. Before they went to bed, whether it be hers or his, Sylvia would pull out her phone or her laptop and go onto YouTube to watch these Gordon Ramsay videos. At first, Calum had thought it was the strangest thing, thought there were literally millions of other kinds of videos to watch before bed if Sylvia should choose to do so. Watching Ramsay harshly go at restaurant owners and chefs? It was definitely weird.

But then Sylvia would giggle at certain remarks Ramsay would make, would mutter her own colorful comments at the assholes shown in the videos, and eventually Calum found himself rolling over and pressing himself into her side, cheek resting on her arm or chest, and watching the videos with her in the dark of the room. It had become a routine, and when once watching those videos before bed had been only her thing, it soon enough became their thing.

Then they broke up, and Calum reluctantly broke the habit, not allowing himself to do something he used to once do with Sylvia. Until tonight.

“He’s such a dumbass!” Sylvia was laughing, struggling to keep her voice quiet because Nana was asleep right down the hall, one hand covering her mouth. Calum, too, was struggling to keep it down as well, slouching on the couch and pressing himself against it with his left elbow propped on the armrest and fist pressing against his own lips. His chest hurt gloriously as he tried to stay silent, knowing that too much sound traveled in the house and the last thing he wanted to do was wake up Nana. Still, both his and Sylvia’s laughter was muffled against the sound of the rain pelting outside. “I mean,” she began, wheezing through her laughs, “he tells Ramsay he’s been taught by some of Europe’s best chefs and then claims he isn’t a chef because Ramsay’s putting him in his place? The stupidity is unmatched!”

“Shh, shh,” Calum shushed through his own giggles, right hand waving at her quickly. He couldn’t remember the last time his cheeks hurt from smiling, from laughing so much. He didn’t even understand how he could feel so relaxed next to her, after trying to keep his guard up. But then again, it had been too easy for Calum to admit to himself that what he had once felt for Sylvia was still there, had never left. And try as he might to appear indifferent, to act as if his love for her was an idea of the past, he couldn’t lie to himself. He couldn’t disregard the fact that the reason this felt so easy, so effortless, was because he was still so God damn in love with her. “You’re gonna wake up Nana.”

Sylvia kept laughing, though she tried to press her lips together despite the sounds hoping to bubble past her mouth. She closed her eyes, the video they watched far too amusing, shaking her head and laughing as her hand reached up and absently grabbed onto the one he’d been waving. Her body leaned into his as she continued giggling, and Calum’s own softened at the first touch of Sylvia’s skin against his.

His laughter faltered, eyes dragging to the way her fingers had innocently wrapped around his, and suddenly Calum’s heart was in his throat because the touch was so fucking familiar. He was pretty sure she didn’t even realize how she’d grabbed onto his hand, as if it was only to anchor her from the laughter the videos they were watching enticed and she wasn’t at all thinking of what her hand in his would make him feel. And maybe she wasn’t, but that didn’t meant Calum wasn’t feeling a sudden warmth spreading through his body originating from a shock her touch instinctively brought.

The same electrifying, buzzing jolt Calum felt every single fucking time Sylvia touched him when they first dated. The feeling was still there, still ever present, and it had his heart rate picking up almost too fucking fast. His eyes were on their joined hands, on how her nimble fingers contrasted against his bruised ones, on his brown skin standing out against her paler tone. Everything else, in that moment, seemed to melt away as neither the TV still playing or the rain still falling registered in Calum’s head, his only focus on the girl still leaning towards him, her achingly nostalgic fruity scent washing over him, her giggles slowly silencing as she gathered her wits about her and raised her ducking head.

Their eyes met just as she did so, and it was like Sylvia was being thrown back into reality as the smile slowly faltered from her lips when she realized the position she was currently in; so close to Calum, mere inches away, with thighs pressed together and hands still being held. They grew silent, even their soft breaths unheard over the rain, and Calum felt his stomach lurch when he noticed Sylvia’s blue eyes drop down to his lips. Felt slightly betrayed when the urge to kiss her hit him like a truck.

He could feel himself lean forward as his own gaze went to her lips, pink and making him desperately want to kiss them, and felt his chin jut forward gently as he felt his fight weaken and allowed himself to give into the desire of pressing his lips to hers. Just a little bit more, and he’d taste her once again.

It was like a switch went off in Sylvia’s mind, and she was pulling away with a sharp breath and a hasty, shaken statement of, “I’m gonna go to bed.”

She didn’t even bother shutting off the TV, stumbling to her feet as she made her way to her bedroom, not even bothering a glance towards Calum. He remained on the couch, chest tight and mind racing with his heart pounding in his ears. So close, they’d come so close. It was fucking killing him.

He shut the TV off with a sigh and wondered, not for the first time, when she would stop walking away from him. Or, better yet, when he’d stop caring that she did.

                                                         *****

“Oh, look who just walked in—Calum, hello, sweetheart!”

Sylvia’s eyes widened, damn near choking on her drink. “Wha—Nana, no!” she stammered out in a whispered exclaim, lowering her glass and turning around, catching sight of the familiar blonde over the back of the booth she was seated in. When she saw Calum look over to where they sat, she quickly turned back to glare at her smiling grandmother. “What are you doing?”

Nana threw a quick frown at her before smiling. “You two need to move past your issues, baby. He’s finally started coming back around and I won’t have you drive him away.”

Her words had Sylvia’s jaw slackening, unsure if she should feel amused or incredulous at her grandmother’s dismissal. Sylvia wasn’t driving Calum away—she was avoiding him which, she knew, wasn’t any better. But after their almost kiss a few days ago, an almost kiss neither of them had expected to happen and left her stomach in knots and head riddled with memories of his lips against hers, Sylvia wasn’t entirely ready to see Calum again after that fiasco.

God. Nana was worse than Luann, it seemed.

“Hey, Nana,” Calum’s voice had Sylvia sitting up, the smooth baritone running a shiver down her spine as she kept her gaze fixated on her chicken club sandwich in front of her, her blonde hair tickling the skin of her bare shoulders thanks to her halter top. “Sylvia.”

She barely glanced his way, offering a fleeting smile and only being able to see his green and black plaid pants in her peripheral, as Nana looked up at him and patting the booth seat. “Sit with us, honey. Unless you’ve got somewhere to be.”

Sylvia didn’t look at him, instead her eyes flickered up to look at her grandmother with a warning expression coating her features which went ignored. Her tense shoulders only tightened more when she heard Calum said, “Uh, yeah, sure. ’M just gonna grab my food.”

He walked away, footsteps receding over the sound of the light music playing through the speakers of the cafe, and Sylvia finally lifted her head to stare at her grandmother as she folded her arms on the wooden tabletop. “Why?” was all she asked.

Nana clicked her tongue, looking disappointed at Sylvia’s obvious protest of Calum joining them. “Oh, honey, you two used to be so close. We’d always go out and eat together, it made me so happy. I just wanted some more of that.”

The nostalgic tone in Nana’s voice had Sylvia pressing her lips together, feeling a bit guilty for being so adamantly against this. Of course Sylvia had been aware of how close Nana and Calum used to be, remembered how he helped around the house just because he wanted to, because he like taking care of both Sylvia and Nana. God, she couldn’t just take away this rekindling between Calum and her grandmother just because she wasn’t sure of how to deal with her own issues, could she?

“Is that all you’re eating?” Nana questioned incredulously once Calum slid into the booth, sitting directly opposite of Sylvia, with a plate of a near pathetic looking turkey sandwich. When Calum raised his eyebrows at Nana, gaze involuntarily flickering to Sylvia who was paying too much attention to her own sandwich, Nana let out a huff. “That’s going to do nothing for you. You’re a growing man. Here, take some of my salad and fries.”

Calum’s lips parted, sounds of protest escaping him, and this time Sylvia couldn’t help but watch in amusement as Nana pushed her untouched bowl of salad towards Calum before transferring some of her French fries to his plate. He suddenly resembled a child, trying to get her to stop as he watched her with widened eyes and stammered, “What ’bout your lunch?”

“My sandwich is filling enough,” she responded, waving him off. “And I had a big breakfast. Eat up.”

Sylvia rolled her lips into her mouth, watching as Calum huffed out a breath before looking down at his plate. He was never one to not listen to Nana, and Sylvia realized it still endeared her now as it did the first time when Calum listened to her without too much of a fight, aware that he saw her grandmother as a mother figure and had a great amount of respect for her. So he smiled, letting out a short laugh before picking up a fork and pulling the salad towards him.

“So how’s everything with you, honey?” Nana asked Calum, never one for awkward silences which were bound to exist with Calum and Sylvia sitting across from each other. Hopefully Nana could be a buffer. “Are you still playing the guitar?”

He let out a close mouthed chuckle, a forkful of salad in his mouth as he nodded. “Badly, yeah,” Calum responded after swallowing, his gaze on the old woman next to him.

Nana scoffed at his words, very much doubtful of his answer as Sylvia remained silent, listening to them talk as she ate. She was getting such an intense sense of dejá vú, remembering the countless of times she’d be having a meal with her grandmother and Calum, listening to the two of them chatter away like old friends while Sylvia listened along intently, always feeling a wave of comfort at the knowledge of two of her favorite people getting along so damn well. That feeling, warm and fluttering, was still present, Sylvia realized, as she ate her sandwich and watched the two of them across from her.

“You never played the guitar badly,” Nana responded, the reassurance thick in her tone as she shot Calum a look. “I remember you’d play for Sylvia in our backyard all the time and I just loved hearing the sound of your guitar flowing through my house. I often miss it.”

Nana’s words had Sylvia’s heart jumping into her throat, feeling the blood rush behind her ears as she flickered her gaze up. She looked at Calum, caught sight of his profile as he had been looking at Nana, and noticed the subtle falter in his smile as he heard her grandmother’s words, his own gaze lowering slightly. The reminder of him playing his guitar for Sylvia, something he used to do quite often just for her, felt like a bucket of ice water was being poured over both of their heads, freezing them in place.

It was one of Sylvia’s favorite things, Calum playing the guitar for her. When he first started doing it, he’d been nervous, constantly telling her he wasn’t that good at it before playing as a way of keeping her expectations low. It had been endearing, she recalled, to see him so nervous before he played when she was so used to the confident, smug, and damn near arrogant aura she’d see around him before he stepped into the ring. To see him fiddle with his ring clad fingers before settling over the strings of the guitar and anxiously chew on his lower lip before playing had been a drastic change in persona, and it took Sylvia by surprise before she quickly realized that she loved that side of Calum just as much as she did any other. And, God, did she miss all of him.

Sylvia noticed the way Calum’s eyes briefly slid over to her, the action so quick she would’ve missed it had she blinked, because suddenly he was straightening his shoulders and forcing a smile back onto his full lips as he said to Nana, “Guess I’ll have to come by and play just for you, then.”

Nana raised a hand, fondly and affectionately patting Calum’s cheek, and Sylvia’s heart felt light when she saw the utter adoration her grandmother had for Calum. It made her breath catch to see Calum return it. “I look forward to it.”

                                                           *****

“Yay, you’re here! Sit! I’ll be right back, I have to pee.”

Sylvia blinked at Luann’s words as she reached the bar, being able to hang out with her friends since her mom was in town and spending time with Nana, eyebrows raising before she asked her best friend, “Do you want me to go with you?”

Luann waved her off, puckering her lips with a wave of her hand. “No, no. Order your drink. I’ll be back in a minute,” she insisted, hopping off the stool and pressing a chaste kiss to Luke’s lips before she grabbed her purse and headed to the back of the bar where the bathrooms were.

Still standing, Sylvia gripped the strap of her own purse, pressing her red lips together as her gaze slid over to the man sitting with his back against the bar to her left, offering the smallest of smiles to Luke as he sipped his own drink. He looked back at her, blue eyes dancing under the colorful lights of the bar, blonde curls framing his face, and Sylvia tried not to bristle under his stare.

The two of them hadn’t spoken since they were at Ashton’s get together, but Sylvia hadn’t forgotten Luke’s words. Could hear his voice echoing in her head, telling her that Calum was happier with her. It haunted her, especially when she saw Calum after that, with Luke’s comment ever present in the back of her mind.

“What’re you drinking?” His voice pulled her out of her thoughts, gaze meeting his expectant one.

It took a moment for Luke’s question to register in Sylvia’s mind before she finally answered, “Rum and Coke.”

Luke nodded, looking over his shoulder at the bartender and flagging him down, telling him Sylvia’s order and putting it on his tab before the guy nodded and began preparing it. It was ready quickly and Luke handed her the glass, which Sylvia took silently before saying, “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“Consider it an apology,” Luke responded, his words making Sylvia furrow her eyebrows in confusion, and Luke let out a breath. “I’m sorry for acting like an ass towards you. It wasn’t fair. I was just trying to—”

“Protect Calum?” When Luke nodded with a purse of his lips, dimples appearing briefly, Sylvia offered a small smile, one hand gripping the glass while her fingers played with the thin black straw. “I get it. I’d be the same way if it was Luann.”

“Yeah, she uh,” Luke paused to let out a breathless, almost sheepish laugh. “She figured out my, uh, behavior towards you and she was pissed. Gave me a bit of perspective on your side of the story. I guess I saw past my own anger on behalf of Calum to understand that you were hurting too, you know?” Luke gave a shrug of his broad shoulders, lips quirking. “Calum didn’t really show any anger after you left. I guess I was just projecting for him.”

At that, Sylvia’s eyebrows furrowed together as she took a sip of her drink, the cool beverage tickling her throat as she lowered the glass, head turning ever so slightly questioningly. “He didn’t—he wasn’t mad?”

Luke gave a shake of his head, blonde curls bouncing ever so slightly. “He was. . . Heartbroken and upset, yeah. But I don’t think he ever really was angry with you.” Sitting up, Luke licked his lips as he continued, “Like, I think he was definitely angry that the relationship ended and that you were gone, because I saw him take all of that out in the ring, but angry with you? I don’t think so. He never said a single bad thing about you. I don’t think he ever could, if I’m being honest.”

“I thought. . .” Sylvia trailed off, Luke’s words hitting her harder than she expected, lips parted and eyebrows drawn together. After she ended the relationship, Sylvia had been sure that Calum would never want to see her again, the very thought of it kept her up most nights after she left. But what Luke was telling her, it made her heart lurch and throat tighten exponentially. “I thought he’d hate me.”

At that, Luke let out a breathy, surprised laugh as his eyebrows raised. Sylvia wasn’t sure why that was funny, because it had been a genuine worry of hers. Just because she had been the one to end things, didn’t mean she stopped caring about Calum. She didn’t break up with him because she stopped loving him; she did it because she loved him so damn much and watching him step into a ring where there were no rules and anything could go wrong had been excruciating to witness.

And then Luke really took her breath away when he answered with a genuine, truthful statement of, “He’s not capable of it.”

One would think after hearing Luke say that, Sylvia wouldn’t try to avoid Calum too much as they all hung out at the bar. But she did, instead keeping close to Luann and the rest of the boys as more of their mutual friends showed up at the bar to hang out. Sylvia didn’t plan on drinking too much, despite the fact that she desperately wanted to and was getting jealous of Luann as she progressively got more shit faced as the night went on. But Sylvia was a bit too paranoid of doing something stupid if she ended up drunk—too paranoid of being around Calum while she was wasted.

Eventually, she found herself stepping outside to get a breath of fresh air, the bar beginning to get a bit too stuffy as Sylvia mentally berated herself for wearing a full sleeved top. It may be cropped to show off some skin but, shit, she really hated herself for her choice of tops.

She smiled at the tall bouncer as he opened the door for her to allow her to step out, nodding when he questioned if she would come back inside. The sidewalk outside the bar was somewhat busy, a small queue to get inside as Sylvia took in a breath, running her fingers through her short blonde hair to push it out of her face.

“You’ve got a bad habit of leaving bars by yourself at night.”

Sylvia turned her head to the left at the sound of the familiar voice over the muffled music of the bar, before looking to her right when she didn’t catch sight of him, gaze ultimately landed on Calum leaning against the brick wall next to the club, next to the window of a sandwich shop that was closed for the night. Her heart lurched violently in her chest as she took him in, black jeans and checkered Vans with a simple grey tee and leather jacket on top. A chain was hanging around his neck, and ring clad fingers were gripping a lit cigarette as he bent his left leg at the knee, foot pressed against the wall behind him.

She swallowed at his words, easily remembering the last time they’d encountered one another outside of a bar, crossing her arms over her chest as she faced him. “You’ve got a bad habit in general,” Sylvia responded, nodding to the cancer stick in his hand as she cautiously took a few steps towards him.

He offered a lazy grin, the red sign of the bar above glowing against his skin, bathing him in the tint, a color she’d seen him in too often in the element of blood. The warm Los Angeles air did nothing to quell the goosebumps rising on Sylvia’s skin from being under Calum’s gaze, coming to stand in front of him, a responsible amount of distance between them.

“What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger, eh?” Calum returned, tone husky, as he brought the cigarette up to his lips.

As he took a drag, the end lighting up a flaming ember, Sylvia raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was being serious. Still, she reminded, “Cigarettes can kill you. Lung cancer says hi.”

Calum slid his lips to the side ever so slightly, blowing out a billow of smoke so it didn’t fly back into Sylvia’s face, his brown eyes intense and never leaving her. It was unnerving how the heat of his gaze was still enough to spread a warmth throughout Sylvia’s skin. “Think we both know if there’s anything that can kill me, it’s bein’ in the ring.” His eyes gave her a once over, lazy in the movement of his eyes, quirking a brow as his eyes met hers and he questioned, “That’s why you left me, isn’t it?”

The warmth suddenly vanished, and Sylvia was left feeling cold by Calum’s words as her back tensed, expression falling at the expectant, knowing look on his face. “Calum—”

“Don’t try to talk your way out of this one, Sylvia. We both know it’s true,” he cut in, giving a single shrug of his shoulder as he gestured towards her with his cigarette, the mere act radiating accusation. “You hated that I fought and rather than talkin’ to me ’bout it, you just broke up with me without lettin’ me get a word in and left with that convenient job offer of yours to hold you over. Love ’em and leave ’em, yeah?”

His words felt like a slap in her face, heart stopping in her chest as she stared at him. Sylvia’s surprised, hurt expression matched that of the twisting of her stomach, feeling her nose burn as a call to the tears that were soon going to spring in her eyes. The bitterness in Calum’s voice didn’t go unheard, a simmering fire in his dark eyes that provided no warmth whatsoever, rather made her feel like she was about to be burned alive. In that moment, Sylvia was really questioning Luke’s words of Calum being incapable of hating her because right now, he looked and sounded very capable and very willing of it.

She tried to gather the courage to speak up, averting her gaze to the wall rather than Calum, forcing the words out of a tight throat as she kept her arms crossed over her chest. “If we talked about it, it would just end up with me asking you to walk away from fighting.” Her voice was quiet, somewhat trembling, as she looked back at a stoic Calum. “It wasn’t my place to ask that of you just because I was scared. Especially when you love it so much.”

Her words were a trigger, Sylvia supposed, watching as she blinked in surprise when Calum tossed his nearly finished cigarette off to the side, kicking himself off the wall with his expression twisting into a frustrated frown. He took a couple of steps towards her, thick eyebrows drawn together and lips curled aggravatedly as he practically growled out, “I fucking love you more. If you were that afraid I would’ve at least considered stopping if you talked to me about it. But you didn’t give me a chance, Sylvia, you just left.” He was so close at this point, right in front of her as he stared down into her widened, taken aback eyes as his words registered in her mind. Calum saw the way she processed everything he said, saw the turbulent emotions swirl in the blue of her eyes, and some of the fire in his chest lessened as he let out a breath. When he inhaled, he smelled her fruity scent, and it relaxed his tense shoulders. She was so close, the heat of her body seeping into his, and Calum’s tone turned breathless, near defeated, as he finished, “I’d rather lose the ring than lose you. I’ve fought so many fucking fights and I hate myself for not fighting for you.”

That did it.

Sylvia didn’t think. She didn’t consider the pros and cons or the consequences for her impulsive behavior. Didn’t even consider that this was exactly what she was protecting herself from doing by not drinking throughout the night. But Calum had said the right thing, had made her heart swell and throat tighten and even well up some unexpected tears in her eyes because when he said something that he truly meant, Sylvia could hear it clearly. Could hear it in the thickening tone of his voice and could see it in the desperation of his dark eyes, and she couldn’t keep it together any longer.

She closed the distance, the heels of her shoes providing her some additional height as her hands gripped the lapels of his leather jacket and knowing exactly what she was about to do, because of course he knew her so damn well, Calum ducked his head to meet her halfway until their lips pressed together. And just as their lips touched, it felt like an explosion erupted within Sylvia’s chest, feeling the familiar softness of Calum’s lips as if she’d never been deprived of them for the past year, the taste of cigarettes not one she minded in this moment because, fuck, it felt so wonderful.

It was like everything they’d felt was finally coming to light, pouring every bit of emotion they could into the kiss as Calum sucked on her lower lip, Sylvia’s grip on his jacket tightening as she felt his hands grip her waist, feeling his warm skin and cool rings on her bare skin and pushing herself into him more. All Sylvia could hear was her heart pounding in her ears, could feel the electricity buzzing through her veins as Calum walked backwards so he could press his back against the wall, pulling her as close to him as possible, and she loved the way her body fit against his.

His tongue slid against hers familiarly, and Sylvia’s right hand raised from his jacket and cupped his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin and the sharp line of his jaw against the palm of her hand before it went to the back of his head. It was strange, not feeling the softness of his brown curls, but the shorter blonde felt new and familiar at the same time, and Sylvia unwittingly felt herself smiling against Calum’s lips as she kissed him. She wasn’t anywhere near mad at herself because of her paranoid self’s worries coming true. Not when he felt like this.

Not when he felt like coming home.

                                                          *****

“What happened?”

She had been feeling good. She’d been feeling better than she had in a while. After that kiss with Calum, Sylvia didn’t think there was much that could bring her down. The two of them had returned to the bar after that impromptu kiss—and after sharing a few more—and it wasn’t missed by anyone that the two of them were sitting closely together on the couch for the rest of the night. It didn’t go unnoticed that Calum would whisper something in Sylvia’s ear and she’d laugh, leaning into him as he kept an arm around her shoulders. A couple of kisses and it was like nothing had changed.

But they had, of course, and both Sylvia and Calum had decided to actually sit down and have a proper conversation about what was happening. They’d made it clear, that night, that they both wanted more. That they’d talk and figure things out and take it slowly, because Calum was still very much a prominent fighter and it was still something Sylvia worried about. However this time, she was willing to give it a try, especially given that he’s improved so much since last time. This time, she truly wanted this to work, because she’d had a taste of life without Calum, and it fucking sucked.

Unfortunately, it’s all she could think about now, with her heart racing wildly in her chest while she sat completely still, struggling to keep up with her breathing but making no show of it, refusing to let the tears gathered in her eyes to shed. Her voice was hoarse when she asked the two word question, throat dry as her gaze remained fixated on Calum. Remained fixated on a bruised, bloodied, bandaged Calum laying on the hospital bed.

Her hand remained on the top of his, careful not to touch or press on the bruised knuckles, his warm skin one of the only things reminding Sylvia that he was alive. That, and the consistent beeping of the heart monitor he was hooked up to.

“Danny Preston.” Ashton’s voice was quiet from where he sat on the chair on the other side of the bed, his own hazel eyed gaze on the beaten up face of his best friend. But Ashton’s jaw clenched, having to look away. Who could blame him? The sight of Calum’s busted lips, bruised and swollen jaw, black eyes, bleeding temple and nasal cannula helping with his oxygen flow was too much for anyone to look at. If Sylvia stared for too long, she’d feel her heart collapse and let the tears fall. “Him and a couple of his buddies jumped Cal outside of the cave. Preston knew he would’ve gotten his ass kicked so he made it five against fucking one and put Cal at a disadvantage. Fuck!”

He ended his explanation with a frustrated growl of a shout, slapping his thighs before pushing himself up from the chair, the force of the action pushing the plastic seat back. Sylvia, however, remained in her chair, and even with her lips pressed together she could feel the lower one trembling, eyes hot as her gaze reluctantly slid up to Calum’s face. The sight of him looking so injured, far more than she’s ever seen him before, had a whimper of a sob threatening to escape, free hand coming up as she folded her fingers into her palm and pressed them against her mouth, expression finally scrunching up painfully as she looked at Calum.

Unconscious and so hurt, an additional broken ribs and dislocated shoulder also some of his injuries. Looking at him like this, vulnerable and hurt and worse off than she’d ever seen him, was so much more painful than anything before. Her heart was beating so fast that she couldn’t even feel it anymore, the fear bitter in her mouth, his skin warm against hers, and her ears only picking up the sound of the heart monitor. It’s all she could focus on—an anchor to remind her that he was still alive, even if he didn’t look it.

“The police caught them.” It was Michael who spoke up next, his own tone tired but with hints of controlled anger, glancing at Ashton who was pressing his hands against the wall opposite of Sylvia, head bent between his arms. “We’re gonna make sure to press charges against all those fuckers, alright? This wasn’t some match in the ring, it was fucking assault and they’re gonna pay for it.”

Sylvia felt the wetness on her cheek, a tear she didn’t fight to keep in escaping, numbly listening to Michael’s words as she kept her gaze on her hand on top of his. Her eyes slid to the ALIVE tattoo on his wrist, and Sylvia felt her throat tighten even more, breathing heavy as the urge to cry overwhelmed her. She hated this. She hated this with every fiber of her being. Absolutely fucking loathed that Calum was in this position, was so injured that they had to wait for him to wake up. Her blood burned like poison under her skin, and Sylvia just wanted to cry. Everything she had been afraid of happened and just like she theorized, she had no idea how to handle herself in this situation. The dread had never been preparation enough. 

A hand gripped her shoulder, firm yet comforting, as Luke’s voice spoke up from behind her, “He’ll be okay. He’s a fighter.”

She desperately believed Luke, because what else was she supposed to do? Her and Calum. . . They were finally getting a second chance. They were going to try because both of them knew what they had was worth fighting for. It wouldn’t be right, it wouldn’t be fair, that they finally found their way back to each other and the universe decided to be cruel and rip that chance away from them. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They still had things to figure out. But they loved each other, and it was going to work.

“You said you hated yourself for not fighting for me.” Sylvia’s words were a whisper in the quiet of the room. She was the only one in there, the boys and Luann giving her a few minutes alone with Calum. They’d been there for a few hours now, Calum having yet to wake up, and both Sylvia’s mom and Nana had visited as well. She’d accepted their hugs and words of prayers and reassurement, but all Sylvia wanted right now was to be able to look at Calum’s brown eyes again.

She sat close to the bed, arms resting on the mattress as her hands gently held his hand. She could taste the salt of her tears on her lips, unable to keep them in after the first few escaped, the fear too heavy to control. “But I need you to fight for yourself right now, okay?” Sylvia’s words were trembling and watery, choked out through her tears. She didn’t even know if Calum could hear her, but she needed to say it. She needed the universe to hear it. “Fight harder than you ever have in your life, because I know you can win, Cal. So please, ju-just fight.”

Her pleads kept falling from her lips, ducking her head until her forehead rested on the mattress next to his arm, one hand still holding his while her other rested against his bicep. Sylvia couldn’t hold in her cries if she tried, every single fear she’s ever experienced while watching Calum in the ring personifying in the sight before her, chest and stomach tight with the frozen terror of something terrible happening to Calum. Only now something terrible did happen to him, and Sylvia was losing her fucking mind over it. He needed to wake up. He needed to show her his brown eyes and flash her that boyish grin that always left her breathless. Sylvia needed all of that more than she needed the air to breathe, and the thought of not getting any of it made the nausea stir in the pit of her stomach.

“Don’t cry over me, love. ’M not worth it.”

The sound of Calum’s voice had Sylvia choking on her cries, head snapping up immediately and wide, tearful eyes landing on his face and, oh, his beautiful brown eyes. He met her gaze, tired and beaten, but still managed to lift the corner of his lips in a half smile as Sylvia felt him turn his hand so his palm was pressing against hers.

It took her a moment to realize what just happened, to register the fact that Calum was awake and responsive and smiling for her even though he was in pain, and she almost burst into a new set of tears in that moment. The relief that flooded her was breathtaking, momentarily struggling with pulling him into a hug or running out of the room to tell their friends that Calum was awake.

But he squeezed her hand, the action not as strong as it usually was, but the touch igniting the same butterflies in the pit of Sylvia’s stomach as it always did. She tried to calm her racing heart, feeling more tears fall from her lids as she let out a slow, breathless laugh while leaning towards him. She stood up, free hand coming to rest gently on the top of Calum’s head, looking down at him as his eyes never left her blue ones. She loved him. So fucking much, it was paralyzing. Him being in the hospital hadn’t been what had her acknowledging that, rather than him coming back to her—twice—only reaffirming the fact.

Her response showed just how much she loved him, hoped that he would see it too as she laughed through her tears. “You’re worth it all.”

                                                                  *****

The atmosphere was different than that of the underground, but the energy was the same. The crowd was loud, buzzing with excitement over the match about to take place, the arena echoing with chatter of the hundreds of patrons filling up the seats. It all looked so real, so professional, that it took Sylvia a minute to realize that this was actually happening. They were far away from the the dim lights of the underground cave, now within the walls of an air conditioned arena with concession stands, speakers, bright lighting, and tickets to be purchased to witness any fight about to take place within the ring in the center.

They were a long way, indeed.

“Syl, hey.” Luke’s breathless voice caught her attention, prompting her to turn around from where she stood by her seat, just taking it all in, as the lanyard swung against her chest with her movement. The blonde smiled down at her quickly before nodding his head towards the doors. “He wants to talk to you before he goes on.” His smile widened just a bit, blue eyes bright with excitement, though his dimpled grin showed fondness. “I think he’s a little nervous.”

His words made Sylvia let out a small chuckle before she nodded, allowing Luke to lead her out of the main arena and down the entry hallway where all the boxers emerged from. The sounds of the crowd grew increasingly muffled the further in they walked, turning the corner where people were bustling about, going in and out of rooms, until Luke stopped in front of a door and pushed it open.

Sylvia followed him in, hearing the sound of Nickelback playing throughout the room, eyes immediately landing on the tattooed man pacing in the middle of the room. Calum instinctively looked at Sylvia, like he felt her presence, and she saw the way his tense shoulders relaxed when she walked in.

Everyone else took it as their cue to walk out, Ashton and Michael shooting her smiles and Adam, Calum’s all-in-one manager slash trainer, doing the same as he walked past her and said, “You’ve got five minutes.”

He shut the door behind him, and then it was just Sylvia and Calum, standing with a bit too much distance between them. Her smile widened, raising her eyebrows as she walked further into the room and mused, “Heard you were nervous.”

Calum huffed out a laugh, running his fingers through his blonde hair which had grown out a bit, no longer kept short at a buzz cut. “Can you blame me?” he responded, throwing his arms out to the side, gesturing to the room they were in, an odd yet working mix between a dressing room and a locker room. “I feel like I’m way in over my head.”

“You’re not,” Sylvia instantly argued, approaching him with a firm yet reassuring expression, eyes on his. Truthfully, she was trying not to ogle at him in just his athletic shorts and sneakers, the sight of his bare tattooed chest and arms too damn inviting. Standing in front of him, Sylvia tilted her head to keep the eye contact, hands coming to grip his. “You were recruited, remember? Adam saw something in you when you were just an underground fighter, and now this is your chance to show how amazing you are. You get to prove that you were made for this, Calum, and you’re gonna kill it.”

His gaze dropped to their joined hands, and something in Sylvia’s heart tugged. He’d been nervous about this first match for weeks, and no matter the reassurances from her or the boys or anyone else, Sylvia knew it was just human of Calum to feel jittery. It was kind of adorable, but he didn’t need to hear that now. “What if I lose?”

“Then you fight harder in the next one,” Sylvia told him, ducking her head a bit so she could meet his gaze. She smiled when blue eyes met brown, fighting the urge to press a kiss to his full lips. “I know you feel like you’re out of your element here, but that’ll pass. You’re gonna go out there and you’re gonna blow everyone away with your skills and show that you belong.”

Calum lifted his head a little, looking down at her with a warmth in his eyes reserved only for her. That same look that always made Sylvia feel as though she was so loved. “You really believe that?”

“I do, because I believe in you,” she answered simply, truthfully, with an honest smile that took Calum’s breath away.

Her words were enough to quell all of Calum’s anxieties, smile widening at the blonde in front of him as he ducked his head and pressed his lips to hers, hugging her to him as he poured out his thanks into a dizzying kiss she wholeheartedly returned. “You’re my good luck charm, baby. I love you.”

Sylvia’s heart lurched happily in her chest, butterflies tickling her stomach. She was sure she’d never get tired of hearing that. “I love you, too.”

Minutes later, as she stood towards the front of their seating section next to Luann and the boys, Sylvia reveled in the way she didn’t feel the usual fear clawing at her chest as she used to in the underground. Because this was different. This wasn’t blood thirsty men betting on who got the shit kicked out of them in an unstable, ruleless environment. This was a professional boxing ring, televised, with rules and a referee and everything else that made it starkly different than from what any of them were used to. This, she could support.

Of course she was still worried, watching with proud eyes as Calum’s name was announced by the commentator and he emerged from his entrance with gloves covering his hands for the first time and a boxer’s robe draped around his frame. She clapped along with everyone else, almost everyone excited to see a newcomer make a name for himself in his first fight. And she grinned, cheering, when the worry Calum had shown her was nowhere to be found, replaced with the confidence of a fighter and the glare of a man determined to be the last one standing. Her heart swelled as he stepped into the ring, the robe gracefully being taken off his brown skin as he took in the hundreds of people he was surrounded by, not to mention the professional cameras broadcasting it all. If the presence of all of those affected him in any way, Calum didn’t let it show, chin held high and shoulders squared with the heat of the bright lights making him glow. He looked like a god up there, and Sylvia was ready to watch everyone worship him.

Then, for a brief moment, Calum’s eyes met hers and as they did, she saw the break in his arrogance. She saw the subtle quirk of his lips, a microexpression missed by everyone but her, and Sylvia responded with a wide, deliriously happy grin because she was so proud of him so excited for him. Despite his fears, Sylvia couldn’t help but think he belonged up there, a prideful tightness in her chest as she linked her hands together and rested her chin on top of them as she watched him.

Calum caught the movement of Sylvia’s lips as she mouthed a silent, I love you.

He’d return the sentiment later that night, loudly and proudly, after winning the first of many fights.

--

tags: @crownedbyluke @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @hotmessmichael @meetashthere @mgcvocals @softforcal @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @c-sainthood @saintcalum @flannelpunkcalum @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @spideyseavey @imfuckin10plybud @livibii123 @pastelpapermoons @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @heartbreak-5sos @thew0rdneedsmcreyghurt @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysideblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @hzi0 @aulxna @mermaiden004 @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @calsophat @inlovehoodx @calpops @xhaileyreneex @sublimehood @bloodlinecal 

[hedwigstalons]

The Tracy Prize - part 19

A boring afternoon at work led to the creation of Claire, the rather grumpy and tech-phobic chemist.  I never expected the little fic she spawned to run to over 25k words.  I may also dig her out in future as there were other scenes that didn’t really fit this story.

 Thank you to everyone that came along for the ride.  Each like, reblog and comment was very much appreciated. @willow-salix thank you for digging me out of several plot holes.  And thanks to @gumnut-logic for opening the door and welcoming me in to this fandom, I probably wouldn’t have attempting writing Virg if it wasn’t you.

  So now…the final part.

Here are the earlier parts for those that want to go back to the beginning: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18

xoxoxox

Claire sat on a bench in the locker room near the hangers, wrestling with a rust coloured boot.  After a determined tug her foot popped around the bend in the heel and she was able to close the seals around her calf.  

The synthetic fuel had been cleared for field testing.  She knew Virgil was already in the cockpit of Thunderbird Two, waiting for her to suit up.  She didn’t want to keep him waiting.  She was looking forward to spending some time with the engineer.

She wondered how her life had managed to take such a surprising change in direction. Just a few short months ago International Rescue was just a name that appeared in news reports.  Anonymous heroes who swooped to the rescue.  Now it meant a houseful of people who risked their lives on a daily basis to help whoever made the call.  People that she was proud to call her friends.  Her thoughts lingered on one particular operative that she wished was more than just a friend.

As she adjusted the prototype uniform she reflected on exactly how this particular development had come about.

It had been a difficult day for all of them.  One of those days when the tension in the villa thrummed like an over tightened guitar string.  One of those rare days when Scott had announced he was out of his depth and called for outside assistance over the comms.  He had made an error and needed help dealing with the fallout, both literally and figuratively.  It had fallen to Claire to guide him through the process of decontamination from the material that coated himself and his body cam, obscuring Claire’s view of the tools and substances at his disposal.  That coating had turned out to be lithium hydride, a tricky substance that had the tendency to spontaneously ignite in humid air.  It was a tense time as she talked the First Responder through the clean up procedures, all the while hoping he wasn’t about to catch fire.

When Scott had finally made it home some 20 hours later he looked distinctly older than when he had set out.  He had announced that perhaps there would be times when it would be useful to take the chemist out in the field to try and avoid these situations occurring in the first place.  Claire had been inclined to agree with him; if Scott had paused and consulted her before charging into the factory he would never have got coated in the volatile substance in the first place.

What followed was a whirlwind of sketches, concept design and finally the prototype uniform.  

A uniform that was currently highlighting its flaws and would definitely need a redesign.

She would gladly have gone on the test flight in her usual clothes but Scott has insisted that, since she had a uniform, she should wear it when going off-island on International Rescue business.

Claire gave up trying to get the zip on her back done up.  She picked up the helmet and rebreather kit that turned her uniform into a grade two certified hazmat suit and headed towards the hangers.

xoxoxox

Virgil looked up from his pre-flight systems checks as Claire entered the cockpit. Technically he could have taken this test flight alone but he thought the chemist ought to get the chance to experience the result of her hard work first hand.  

If he was being completely honest he found himself seeking out opportunities to spend time alone with Claire.  He pushed those thoughts out of his mind.  Claire was dedicated to her work.  She seemed to enjoy his company but had given no indications that she was interested in him being anything more than a friend.  She was a professional to the core.

“I hope we won’t be needing those” he said, indicating the helmet and rebreather in her hands.

“You and me both, but Scott said to keep all the parts to hand.”

Virgil knew the sense in that.  You never knew what could happen when out on a mission and it paid to be prepared. His own helmet was close at hand.

“So how does it feel?  Does everything fit?”

His eyes raked up and down the petite form, currently clad in the ruddy tones that marked her out as one half of International Rescue’s scientific division. Of course it fitted perfectly. The full body scans taken as part of her medical had ensured that the garment was perfectly sculpted to her form.

He forced his eyes back to her face, hoping she hadn’t noticed his lingering gaze.

“Well the material is a little stiff.  I think the polymer coating is reducing its flexibility.  It also takes far too long to get on.  The biggest problem though is this.”

She spun around revealing the triangle of bare flesh at the top of her back.  

“If the main fastening stays at the back I’m going to have to get changed into uniform en-route so one of you others can buddy check my seals.  I just can’t reach it right.  Please can you finish doing me up?”

Virgil felt a lump form in his throat.

Claire held her ponytail out of the way so Virgil could finish closing the zip without snagging her hair.  A firm hand then ran slowly up her spine from base to neck, sealing shut the protective flap that covered the zip.  Claire’s body tingled in response.  Her mind wandered, imagining those same strong hands reversing the action later and freeing her from her uniform.  She gave herself a mental shake.  This was Virgil.  A colleague. It was…inappropriate.

Virgil returned to the pilot’s seat while Claire took the co-pilot’s side that was normally occupied by Gordon.  

This would be her first time being piloted by Virgil but not her first time flying in Thunderbird Two.  That first trip was tainted with bad memories.  Her first flight had been spent in worried silence.  Gordon at the controls.  Virgil in the med bay, out cold from the dart she had been responsible for shooting. She was still haunted by visions of Virgil crashing to the floor of the conference centre, the dart stuck in his chest.

The atmosphere in the cockpit today was excited rather then worried, but still serious.

The ability to control the Thunderbirds remotely meant that several test ignitions had been trailed but this would be the first true flight using the new fuel. The chance to test if reality lived up to expectations.

Virgil opened the comms link to both island control and Thunderbird Five.

“Pre-flight checks complete.  Everything responding as expected.  Thunderbird Two is ready for take off.”

“I’ll be keeping a running watch on your systems readouts and I’ll keep comms open,” John responded, his hologram floating above the control console.  “Stick to you pre-programmed route I’ve sent you. I’ve alerted the GDF that you are on manoeuvres so we can expect a call from Aunt Val later.”

“Why are the GDF involved?” Claire asked.

“Just common courtesy.  We give the GDF a rough flight plan and they alert any military operational in the area. It saves any cases of mistaken identity. We don’t want Two shot down again.” John replied.

Claire looked alarmed.

“That only happened the once, Johnny.”  Virgil had still never truly forgiven the US Navy for crippling his beautiful ‘bird.

“Yeah, well that was once too many.”

Scott’s voice cut in.  “If you two have quite finished…”

The rock wall disguising the hangar entrance lowered as Scott activated the mechanism from inside the villa.

Virgil taxied his Thunderbird out on to the launch pad.  The pad tilted upwards and the view from the cockpit changed from one of sea to one of sky.

Virgil directed power towards the thrusters.

An intense roar filled the cockpit.  Vibrations built up in intensity.  The mighty craft slid forwards and took to the skies.

“Thunderbird Two is go.”

xoxoxox

Virgil concentrated intently on the flight.  He had spent so many hours flying Thunderbird Two that he was fully attuned to her quirks and moods.  He felt each difference in response and behaviour without the need to check the instruments for confirmation.  The engine pitch was slightly lower.  The vibrations slightly stronger.  He tried a few turns and altitude adjustments and was pleased to see that Two responded just as well as before.

It was time to test her for speed.

Virgil eased the throttle forwards.  Scott’s voice came over the comms, reading out their velocity in increments.

“6,000 kilometres per hour.”

“6,500 kilometres per hour.”

“7,000 kilometres per hour.  Approaching previous top speed.”

Virgil continued to push the throttle.  He could feel that Two had more to give.

“8,000 kilometres per hour.”

“9,000 kilometres per hour.”

As each increment was read out the tone became excited.

“10,000 kilometres per hour.”

Claire looked across at Virgil.  A huge grin was plastered across his face at the raw power under his control.  It was as if Two was singing to him.  She hummed as he pushed the throttle to the maximum.

“!0,200 kilometre per hour” he whooped.  “Maximum throttle reached.  Easing off now and returning to base.”

“FAB Virgil.  See you back home soon.”

The pure delight Virgil was experiencing was evident.  He practically bounced as he guided the craft back over the Pacific Ocean. Their island home was soon visible again.

Virgil switched to VTOLs and brought them in to land.

xoxoxox

The two occupants of the cockpit grinned at each other, their eyes shining.  They were buoyed by the thrill of success.

Harnesses were released.

Claire found herself enveloped in one of Virgil’s bear hugs.  The air nearly crushed out of her body by his exuberance, her body held firmly against his chest.  She found herself returning the hug, wrapping her arms around his waist, burying herself in those powerful muscles.

“You did it!  You actually did it!”

Virgil was still riding the high of emotion.  Claire’s feet lifted off the floor in the engineer’s delight.  When she was placed back down she felt a kiss planted on the top of her head.

The pair of them both stilled and stiffened as the action registered.  

Claire looked up to meet warm brown eyes that looked ashamed, scared…hopeful?

Virgil cursed his lack of self-control.  In that one unguarded moment he had risked everything.  Claire had changed a lot since coming to the island but she could still be prickly on occasion.  Her flares of temper were becoming less frequent; there was more laughter, more enjoyment in being part of a team, but she had never invited him to cross this line.

Virgil braced himself for the backlash.

The backlash never came.

Their eyes remained locked.  Neither let go of the other.  Arms continued to encircle bodies pressed close together.

Claire found herself sinking into those chestnut depths.

Lips tentatively met, at first hesitant with the fear of rejection, then pressed more firmly as each explored the object of their secret desires.  Neither wanted to that moment to end.  Blue pressed against rust, the colour the only way of distinguishing the entwined bodies.

When they finally broke apart, eyes bright and cheeks flushed, Claire reflected that she might not have got the research grant but she had surely won the greatest Tracy prize of all.

-FIN-

[glasgowkisschelseasmile]

Scandal

Pairing: Brian X Reader - Taken from @glamrockmonarch - fantastic AU concept - Thank you for letting me finish a half finished story and take a little bit of artistic license over your world! Although, it is an older Brain in the AU,I have written it that you can put him younger or older.

Word Count- 25K

Reformatted because the tumblr app wouldn’t open anything but the first and last couple of paragraphs. 

Still not working? Try this link

Please let me know what you think, feedback and comments are more than welcome! I decided not to break it up as it didn’t seem to flow as chapters or parts. Thank you to my buds who have encouraged and listened to me say for about six weeks tell them that it was nearly finished! @diamondxclawedxglove @disasterdeacy

Smut & Angst under the cut!

Infidelity. One tiny word that had caused hours of heartache for y/n. An act she didn’t commit, yet it followed her around with every step. Everything was tainted from that one moment and everything was wrong since that newspaper flew from her hands and bounced off her husband’s chest, the second he walked through the door from the school run, as screams erupted from her mouth. Four simply words had ripped her world apart.  ’Brian May Affair Exclusive’

Y/n tried to read the article through tear soaked eyes as the words seemed to float and jump along the page in her shaking hands.

‘Despite a wife and two teenage sons at home, it appears the Queen guitarist has been up to his old tricks. It has been reported he was seen leaving a hotel with a female television producer, who’s most recent work was on a documentary featuring the rocker. May was well known to have repeatedly cheated on his first wife but had seemed to calm down in recent years since marring Y/N Y/L/N- May, a popular writer and presenter some years his junior. The pair had kept their family life incredibly private and only confirmed their relationship once she had double barrelled her surname, despite reports they’d wed months before and begun dating when she was only in her early twenties. It is unknown currently how long the affair has been going on behind his wife’s back.  However, friends have commented that the scarlet woman in question had made it well known of her intentions towards the musician as she’d been previously linked to a handful of rockstar men including but, not limited to…’ “How could you!? You fucking bastard!?” She cried out as the newspaper landed open with its slanderous story on full display at his feet. Before, y/n never even contemplated she could feel pain that this; so intense and everlasting. Hours passed, weeks and then months yet those bouts of crippling agony and anger still sat within her. ”It was a mistake one night. I was feeling so bloody terrible. I’d gone just for a night to clear my head and you couldn’t come. I- I’d had a couple of drinks and she came onto me- I did not encourage this in anyway. She just happened to be there and, fuck, yes, we went back to her hotel room but, darling, it did not mean anything. I didn’t even cu-“ The slap across his cheek had burnt for hours after y/n had packed her bag and taken their two very upset teenage boys from their house that night. She was broken but they were inconsolable and furious. Harry and Fred always had been her priority and it really didn’t matter if they missed the last two days of their school term after all the photographers were trying to follow them. They hadn’t known until lunchtime when they’d bunked off school to buy lunch and the newspaper was on full display in the off license for all their peers to see. They’d ask school to call their Mum as soon as the first click of a camera could be heard. “Don’t leave.” Brian teared up at the door as y/n hunted for the dog’s car restraint. It was more autopilot than genuine thought as she walked through various rooms. “We can work this out.” “You’ve broken our family. You and you alone. Those boys have been hounded all day because I could barely get out of my home with those vultures circling to get them. They’re just kids, they aren’t equipped to deal with this. Truthfully, neither am I. Goodbye Brian.” The front door shut with a heavy thud that seemed to shake the old house as y/n listened out for anything that may indicate if it was her husband or someone else. The worst thought was the fleeting one that maybe anyone else would cause less of a sinking feeling of dread in her stomach. She heard the dog give a few barks as she jumped off the couch and then happy jumps of paws on the hard wood as she greeted her owner, unaware of the mess around her. Y/n could hear her husband cooing over their ball of fur before asking quietly where his wife was. “Where’s your mum? Hey? Where’s y/n?” Footsteps neared as his shoes where discarded. Y/n just waited to see if he’d just dropped in or really, she’d lost her precious night alone. “Hello?” Brian’s smooth voice rang through the hallways looking for his wife, but her eyes focused on the TV in-front as-if nothing was wrong. However, her nervous tick of bouncing her knee easily shone through to someone who knew her. “Babe?” Y/n was silently debating if she should answer or if she could somehow escape to take the much wanted night apart to hide. She just wanted to be alone and wallow in self-pity and sadness without worrying about upsetting their children and, truthfully, Brian further despite wanting him to know pain like she felt. She wanted him to feel his soul burn every time their eyes met, or someone patronisingly asked how they were doing. “There you are, my love.” “Hi.” Y/n caught his reflection in the mirror, a gentle smile played on his lips. Just the sight of his wife close by and in their home once more by made his heart flutter still. The three of them hadn’t been gone long but it still felt almost impossible to eat his breakfast or do anything but sob in self-pity in his bed. Just even seeing any of them in the house made his soul seem to glow and swell in adoration and happiness. “Where are the boys?” “Rog was already taking Max so offered to take them all. Harry, Fred and Max are all meeting some friends at the gig and then they asked to stay out the night. I said they could… I hope you don’t mind.” “No, why would I mind. I’m happy the boys are having a good time.” Truthfully, she was; those two had been through so much in the past few months and they deserved to have some fun rather than being self-appointed protectors of the family now. Their lives had changed the same as hers had with the whispering behind their backs and constant advice from other members of their family that hadn’t been asked for. She had watched her sons slowly harden as if the perfect bubble they thought they’d lived in had popped. Brian padded into the room with a tense brow as he lingered around, transferring his weight between his feet, until y/n forced herself to speak. ”What are you doing now with a free night of not being a taxi?” Although Y/n was desperate to get their marriage back on track, it seemed almost impossible. They’d fought for months, attended counselling and yet all y/n could hear was his voice muttering some other woman’s name. Despite how many times her husband had argued it was a stupid one time error of judgement when he was feeling so low. It didn’t take away her pain. The house was somewhere she had once felt so safe and secure. She could crumble within its walls and not need to keep up appearances but now, it felt so cold and lonely. Once where memories of her boys playing or her husband chasing her around in their early years of marriage now replaced in her mind with created visions of whispered conversations behind her back or stolen kisses not pressed to her lips. “I don’t know…” Brian scratched lightly at the back of his neck. “I was hoping to spend some time with you; without work or kids as distractions.” Hazel eyes flitted down to her knee that was jumping at twice the speed now with her lip caught between her teeth. She must really hate him to be this uncomfortable with him alone, Brian thought, and that seeping feeling of self-hatred ran around his body. “I’ve asked Rog to us three rings when they’re all home so, if the phone rings, it’s just that. I know you worry.” Brian tried to raise a smile, but he could see his wife’s gaze shifting to anywhere in the room but him. “Our therapist said we are meant to-“ “-I know what she said, Brian. I was there too.” This was one change that couldn’t seem to dissipate; her mood swings. One minute she could be laughing with her friends and then two minutes later be a crying mess with any passing thought of him or his infidelity. The tears just made the feelings of humiliation even worse; she wondered who saw, who knew what her husband had done? Did they pity her or think she was stupid, blame her even? Did her family, friends or, worse, the boys think she was doormat for coming back. Y/n tried her best not to care and push away those thoughts, but it was impossible not to. Even worse, she wondered why she was the one in tears when Brian seemed to be doing so much better. She currently just felt so alone in the world. Her family weren’t much better than the press when it came to the matter. Her mother and sister constantly reminding her they ’knew this would happen’ and ’well if he got caught once… You’ll have to bet your arse it has happened a thousand times you didn’t see.’ It depleted her energy and shattered her already broken heart into pieces.   However, when face to face with Brian, she was just livid and hurt; she couldn’t let it go that her lovely husband could hurt her so deeply and try to use stupid phrases from the therapist? She wanted to slap the shit out of him and scream in his face. They’d been told to say non accusatory words to not fan argumentative fires, but it was hard to think of it as ‘their affair’ when it was Brian who fucked up. “Can I sit with you? I just want to read a book quietly or watch something together. I just want to spend some time with my wife.” Brian’s soft and calm voice broke her thoughts as her face softened and as quickly as the anger came, it ebbed away to the amount she always carried. Y/n could see how much he was trying to be normal with her and hold himself back from pushing any situation. She’d watched his hands hover her shoulders before he left, watched their boys kiss her cheek goodbye but never pushed as he whispered a declaration of love. “I don’t mind. I’ll go if you want me to but I’d adore to just sit next to you if you allow me.” Y/n gave a slow nod, pulling her legs into her body to make herself as small as possible and adjusted the cushions to build them up around her. It was just every barrier she could possibly make, she did. In bed, once Brian was finally allowed back in that was, y/n had bought the same type of long body pillow, she’d used when pregnant with the twins, as a barrier between the two. Brian knew full well why, they were sharing a bed purely so the boys didn’t know how apart emotionally they’d become. The kids started to forgive him slowly only once they thought their mother had. “I love you.” Brian almost whispered. “I know.” Y/n just couldn’t always bring herself to tell him in the moment even though she felt it so deeply. It hadn’t helped everyone’s judgement. She could feel eyes on her in the supermarket and those hideous TV shows debated if she was stupid for staying.  The feelings of despair and sadness creeping once more into her mind as she scanned his profile; seeing his hands turn over each other with his face pained in thought. How did this happen to them? “Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat if you want.” “You need to eat too. I’m worried about you.” A hand came to rest on her ankle, thumb rubbing the bone as it had done thousands of times before. “Your running on empty. The boys-“ “Do you want a glass of wine instead?” Abruptly, y/n stood up, almost running from the room before Brian could get into any real conversation. “Y/N…” Brian rubbed his eyes in exacerbation. He truly didn’t know how much longer he could go on being rebuffed; just wanting to feel the warmth of skin on his or feel comfort from his wife’s touch. He had no right but mostly he wanted to hold her in these moments of intense suffering and be that sanctuary he used to be. “We’ve got white already open; hope you don’t mind.” Brian was still perched on the edge of the couch. His hands where clasped together and covering his mouth with elbows on his bony knees but offered a tight-lipped smile as the glass was handed to him. Y/n circled her husband almost nervously before forcing herself to sit next to him like their therapist had suggested she needed to slowly begin to let it get better. However, as Brian remained on the cushion edges, she pushed herself as deeply as possible into the fabric. This time last year she’d have probably thrown herself into his arms by leaping off the back of the couch and giggling as she almost knocked Brian off balance in their playfulness at the excitement of a full night unexpectedly to themselves. “I- I do love you, Bri…” Y/n stuttered out, surprising herself at the boldness and the relief that seemed to fizzle in her stomach. “I know.” He sighed, that tight smile still playing on his lips that meant he wasn’t really okay, and his mind was captured in painful thoughts. Long fingers swung his wedding finger around, he’d only taken to wearing it full time since everything had happened as it got caught on his guitar too often on tour and Brian had always maintained he was nervous of losing something so sentimental, of course his wife had since wondered otherwise. With another sigh he turned to y/n pulling her view from his hands to his eyes. “We’re not getting through this, are we?” Once the words where cast he had to turn back around because he simply couldn’t look at y/n anymore when the pain was this sever. Instantly y/n felt shame take over her whole body. It may have been him that had fucked up, but it was her who wouldn’t allow her mind to forget. Anytime it started to lessen, she’d force herself to remember that pain or her anxiety would flood her in droves of ‘what ifs’ and shouting that they couldn’t go through this again. Brian had tried everything; allowing her space, then coming back to trying to be affectionate physically, trying to plan a romantic weekend away, he’d even slept for three nights on the floor when y/n was convinced she could smell another woman on him suddenly but didn’t want to worry the boys with their fights. He’d even held her hand, hanging off the edge of the bed, as her tears flowed quietly. He’d cried with her but never did anything other than silently comfort his wife how she’d asked him too. “We’re trying…” y/n voice broke as she heard her husband trying to sniff back his tears. A delicate hand rested in the centre of his back, rubbing calming circles that made it even harder to speak. “How much longer can we try for?” He turned, looking his wife in the eye once more, both glossy and pained. “I’ll forgive you because I can blame myself because I know you and I know this is not how you act. However, in all seriousness, how much longer can you try for? You’re not eating, not sleeping, you’re not even writing. I know you and I know you haven’t written a single word in months.” Y/n’s eyes gazed into his hazel ones that glistened with tears finally breaking that he quickly wiped away. “I honestly think if we can’t get past this our family would be better in half than walking on eggshells. The boys have never been in trouble before this and Fred’s in and out of detention every other day and Harry? At least Fred’s angry all the time, Harry just has these huge outbursts; sometimes he can barely look at me when he’s not plastered to your side. Then he has no problem staring me down every chance he gets.” “I don’t think he’s exactly to blame for his little pops at you. I’ve always said you weren’t laid back enough with them-“ “-I just want them to do well. I push them because they’re clever lads. Don’t tell me how to parent my boys when you know it’s not about me being strict with them. I want the best for them… which is why, I don’t know if this situation is the best for them. And I’ve done this before, I know how much it rips your soul in two to not wake your kids up for school every morning. I love doing that. I treasure being a dad so much but, we- we need to face facts that it’s not good for them and it’s not good for you… I just want what’s best for you and I want you to be happy and I will just have to accept that it’s not me anymore.” “We’re all really trying, Brian. It’s a hard age for them regardless of what’s going on between us and all their friends know what’s happening. They haven’t really got anyone to talk to; they won’t talk to me at all about their feelings anymore… I don’t like how they’re getting so tall; I can’t hug them like I used to… It’s starting to feel like hugging you when you were all bony and skinny with your ridiculously long limbs…” The circles getting stronger into the tense muscles of his back before slipping under his shirt. Her tears too not quite holding back now. She missed his warmth so deeply but couldn’t bring herself to accept tainted skin against hers anymore. ”You do make me happy. The times we’re good, we’re great. Even since everything. I know how much you try, and I will keep working for you. They don’t want to be split up from you. I know how hurt they felt when we went straight after it happened. I know because they told me. They wanted you there… even I wanted you there sometimes.” Y/n and Brian somehow found the strength to pull themselves together with tears being wiped away. She wasn’t lying, y/n had realised when she’d instinctively turned to roll her eyes at their boy’s antics of trying to wrestle in the surf. Y/n wanted to see her husband smiling at them all, then having to makeshift some clothes for the drive home when they were freezing and wet. That was the night she knew their relationship was worth saving. She’d packed their bags at midnight and driven into the early hours to get home and found her husband, sporting a scruffy peppered beard, crying quietly looking at the array of family photos in the living room. The boys hadn’t ever let anyone, not even admitted to each other, know of the relief of watching from the stairs as their parents sobbed into each other’s arms and a thousand apologies whispered into each other’s shoulders. “I wanted to be with you.” Her fingers found a tight knot at the base of his spine and her thumb began to press harder until she felt it start to come apart. It was natural, something she’d done so often but with being so touch starved it made Brian close his eyes with a gulping sigh of contentment spreading throughout his body, but it just seemed so wrong after all he’d said; he felt unworthy. She dried her cheeks again, even though the tears ceased they still seemed to be pulling at her face still. “Why don’t you take them out for a day? I’ll stay here so it’s just you three. Buy their love and affection if you must, spoil them a little bit. They’re good boys and they deserve some time with just you. They won’t worry so much then. Do whatever weird man things you boys do when I have to stand in a music shop for hours whilst you get hassled, the bit before I give up and look at book shops or anything but people telling you how great you are.” Y/n rolled her eyes in jest but Brian could reel off a handful of occasions that had happened to them both. “You mean the bit where the boys somehow load up a basket of everything they want to try and somehow it goes onto my credit card?” “Yes, the bit when they take advantage of you being forgetful and telling them your pin codes or ability to forge your signature.” They both chuckled as their souls seemed to warm up just a little more. That was part of the reason both Brian and y/n tried so hard to keep things together. Duct tape the cracks till it looked seamless to anyone but them. It was just since that time they’re relationship had become so volatile, both could be prone to the odd flair up or picking a fight but it seemed out of control some days and on the flip side, they could be happy and jovial over dinner until he’d tried to initiate any romantic or such alike. “They’re little buggers sometimes.” He took another sip of his wine and placed the glass on the table. Brian gave a feeble laugh, looking over his shoulder at his wife who was scrunching her nose in that way that was purely her. He winked at her as he spoke. “They get that from you.” “And they get their obsession with collecting from you… I’ve been thinking…” y/n tapped her foot nervously again and picked some nonexistence fluff from her yoga pants. “Maybe we should go away like you’d suggested. A change of scenery might do us some good; just us. R/W/N or my parents would probably look after the kids and the dog.” “I’d love that.” Brian spoke as another wave of relief washed over him as he dared to place his hand over hers on her thigh. He gently squeezed in sincerity as his smile opened for the first time in days. “I’d really love that. You love Paris or is that too cliched?” “I wouldn’t be mad at a weekend in Paris or Florence or even somewhere completely new. Anywhere with you will be lovely.” Desperately they were both trying to have some sort of semblance of normalcy. They’d frequently slip in and out of the state, but it did seem to be getting slightly more often and longer periods. It was okay when life was busy, work, calls and two kids to rush around meant they could at least pretend everything was normal for small periods of time. It was the nights that things got more complicated; when they were forced to be alone together. Y/N would sporadically still touch Brian, but he could feel how forced it was. She’d even occasionally grimace, and they hadn’t had a proper cuddle in bed since that night before the news had broken. Memories of that night sometimes where all that kept him going. The thoughts of soothing touches and kisses had ran around his body as she softly whispered sweet nothings and positivity in his ear all night. When he showed no signs of being able to sleep, even in the small morning hours creeping around them,  she’d taken him between her lips and into her hand and blown him until he was a quaking, sweaty mess under her. y/n realised now Brian’s initial reluctance to do anything physical since that weekend was his overpowering guilt but that night he’d clung to her desperately as he tried to find some hope and solace. He’d rocked his hips into her as one hand roamed his body with soft hums and Brian’s hands tangled in her hair as he whispered, as loud as he dared, about how loved she was. It all seemed so cheap mere hours later. They’d done all the therapist exercises, Brian admitting that it was his fault and his alone, validating her feelings of pain and betrayal and trying to picture a future together. The book said to picture grandkids and enjoying retirement, but all y/n could see was an empty house and loneliness. When she’d told the therapist, she’d simply said to think of next Christmas, what did that look like? Truthfully, y/n had no idea. She wanted to see him, and their boys surrounded by her stepchildren and growing number of grandchildren throughout the years but any time she felt like they were moving forward, another wave of sadness hit her and knocked her down again. Brian shuffled back, relaxing into the cushions with his hand on her thigh still. It was just instinctive impulse that caused her to close the gap and press her lips softly against his temple. “I miss you. I miss your touch. I miss your lips.” He muttered as his eyes fluttered shut but felt his wife edging away from him. “Babe, I’m so-“ “Shush. I know.” He watched her glass be placed next to his before leaning back and tugging a dumbstruck Brian back to her. His back against her chest and her hand holding his and the other coming to pull his forehead back to her lips. “I know. I just… I just look at you and I see- it’s so stupid- but I see marks on your skin. I look at these lips and I see horrible lipstick stains. I look at your beautiful eyes and wonder if you even want to see me or are you imagining someone else. Do you even want me physically anymore or are you here to save face? I see the boys and I think about how you didn’t want more children and I did, so we had them. What if you blame me for trapping you? Are you here because you think you have a duty to us or something silly like that? Do you want to be with someone else? Do you want her?” In one minute she’d said more to Brian than in months. Let him know her worries and concerns and Brian could feel the quick heave of her chest as her leg started bouncing again. This time, however, he reached forward and took her ankle in his hand before pulling it into his lap and wrapping her body around his before turning to look deeply into her eyes. “You are my world with my children; every single one of them. Never, ever doubt that you didn’t give me one of the greatest gifts you ever could. I fell in love a thousand times deeper and more intensely when those little nuggets were placed in my arms. I didn’t even know I could love someone any more than I already loved you. I’m not here because we have children. I woke up one day in how ever many years and made a mistake. I wake up every morning and remind myself what a fucking idiot I was, and I try my damnedest to try and fix the pain I caused you and the kids.” Brian  sighed as he tried to hold himself together and squeezed her calf muscle to centre himself. “I love you. I always have and I always will. Only you will ever be my wife, I promised you that on our wedding day and I hate myself that I broke a vow because I didn’t ever think I would. I was so low, and you were so busy, and I fucked up. The same way you feel like I don’t want you physically; that’s how I felt… fuck, how I feel.” “How could you even think that?” Her brows knitted together in confusion, until the affair she’d always been very affectionate to him. Always peppering kisses and nuzzling into his body when they’d curl up together. “Because look at you and look at me. Maybe when you were in your twenties and I had some semblance of a rockstar-“ y/n quickly cutting off her husband before he went down a rabbit hole. “Hey, I didn’t meet a rockstar though. I met a lovely guy who wanted to talk about animal rights and the night sky, and you duped me with this rock god bollocks.” “I duped you?” He shook his head away from her as he tried to discreetly wipe away the stray tear that fell. “Yes. I didn’t want some rockstar wanker. I wanted some nice absentminded man who knew about interplanetary dust and ate far too many pastries but had no idea where his wallet was and left his house keys on my kitchen table even though I’d reminded him quite literally the second before to take them. I loved that about you when we met. I loved you coming back and convincing you to stay again or the way you’d tell me a million theories by people I had never even heard of; about things I never knew existed. I loved you for you.” That last statement hurt. He’d spent far too many nights with women that wanted him to be who they thought he was and didn’t care how he felt or were willing to spend any time on anything other than just fucking a pop star. Even from their very early relationship, y/n had always taken care of him. He doubted any of his onetime bed partners would even know his middle name or favourite book. ”What a stupid fool you’ve been…” Brian thought to himself. “That’s still me but I’m older to say the least, my hairs turning colour and my body aches in the morning. I’ve seen the way other men look at you; I’ve quite literally been pushed aside by men to talk to you before. How can I compete with guys your age? Look at me.” For the first time in months, she did. Brian carried a little more weight than when they met but he looked healthier to y/n now, not so thin or eating that dreadful diet of whatever someone had left in the fridge or he could get delivered.  He had more wrinkles but so did she, the lack of sleep wasn’t helping either of them and, yes his hair had changed colour multiple times till it faded to grey but his eyes. His eyes were the same hazel with tiny flecks is green that shone in the light or whenever he was excitedly talking about a subject. They still turned deep and self-reflective when he was saddened by something. Whatever had changed physically it hadn’t changed a single thing about how she felt about him. He was still utterly handsome and when he’d wield himself around on stage, he was still sexy to her. How could he not recognise her utter admiration to every part of him? “You’re so very handsome, Bri. How could you even begin to think I didn’t find you attractive or interesting anymore…” Y/n was taken aback as she replayed so many times, she’d brushed him off even before the mistake. The new book had taken nearly all her time and energy and the nights she’d creep off to write in the darkness or when Brian would softly ask her to take a break or just that he was down, and she’d not been there for him. That weekend y/n had blamed Brian for disappearing off but she’d also remembered how the boys had shut their doors and battled each other with loud music and she had sat downstairs with headphones on to drown them out; no wonder he felt his only option was to get some peace and quiet and that bitch had prayed on him. He’d fucked up but the pain and regret was evident in everything he’d done since. She should have marched upstairs and pulled the cables to the twins’ speakers or made Brian stay and take the dog for a walk into the town and have lunch together. He should have stayed, and they should have talked this out months before any issues had arisen. Maybe some of the guilt she felt was internalised, if she’d had taken that Sunday afternoon on Friday, if she’d have baked his favourite treats and wrapped her body around his in the hazy sunlight, maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t have done what he did. Y/n fingers ghosted his cheek, Brian’s eyes locked to hers moving around his face and body. She leaned forward, lips pushing into his ever so softly it almost felt like smoke dancing along his skin soon to slip away. He knew not to push, to relax with a soft hum of appreciation. Her heart seemed to reform slightly as she felt his shoulders relax but could feel his lips just holding back from what he really wanted. With passion and force, their kiss grew. Maybe the words couldn’t express how she needed to be back with him but hopefully some romantic attention could. Y/n caressed his sharp jaw with her thumb and Brian reciprocated. His long and delicate fingertip ran over her pulse point, feeling the strong thud when his hand splayed around her neck with a tender and gentle touch. Brian’s hands relaxed their grip when he reminded himself to slow down. He’d gladly accept anything his wife offered no matter how short. Savouring what he believed to be the last fleeting moments with her lips on his. Y/n’s weight seemed to shift around him, her leg pushing further across his lap and Brian gave a surprised whimper when he felt his wife wrap her arms around his neck and lower herself into his lap. “This okay?” She asked as his hands remained in mid-air but their lips never truly parting. “I just wasn’t prepared.” “Why aren’t you touching me?” She mumbled against his lips as their noses rubbed together in a change of sides. “I didn’t know I was allowed to.” He admitted before taking her hips with a squeeze. The thin T-shirt had ridden up and exposed her lower back which gave Brian an opportunity to touch her skin. She was almost so warm and soft; exactly how home felt. One hand fell lower daring to press under the thin material of her yoga pants and give her ass a playful grasp. She allowed his hands to roam her body feeling wanted and safe in his tight hold. It felt so wonderful to be here once more. They both melted into their lover, moaning into each other as her tongue slipped across his bottom lip to deepen the kiss even further. Her hand draped around his shoulder and into his open shirt to feel the intimate skin of his chest. She’d missed him so dreadfully and it finally felt like they were reclaiming their marriage together. “You really do have a fantastic arse.” And that simple statement of praise and Brian’s attempt to make her feel attractive instantly caused a sink in her gut. Had he said that to someone else? Was he comparing the two women? Had he felt that bitch up like he touched his wife? Then she could feel it; that cheap red lipstick staining her lips from his. A powerful shove from her palms to Brian’s shoulders knocked him back into the cushions. He was shell shocked; how could everything flip so drastically? Change so quickly? He watched his wife begin to pace around the room with wide eyes as she shook her head and once again avoided looking to him directly. “Darling, what’s wrong? You’re worrying me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, but I can see how much I have.” He jumped up and tried to place a hand on her chest and back and rub calming circles like before, but it just made it worse. She screamed at him to not touch her and Brian just stood dejected and feeling as if he was taking up far too much space in her world. It was back. The red hotspots as she was calling them. Sometimes when she looked at her husband, she could almost see glowing patches of skin where he’d been unfaithful. Holding someone else’s hand, had she kissed his chest like y/n did, tickled her tongue along his stomach until he squirmed or bit his neck in pleasure as she held his strong hips. “No, no, no, please no.” She crumbled as her knees started to give way and her hands come to wipe the flowing tears. That’s when y/n saw it. The bright red glow on her own skin, could feel the heat they generated, every place his hands or mouth had laid where suddenly burning with memories and created visions of his betrayal. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand as if that would somehow help but her head was spinning. No other thoughts could process in her mind other than Brian’s unfaithfulness and how his skin and soul had been polluted by another. All she could think was how he was transferring everything to her; making her unclean and defiled too. “Why did you do this!? Why did you allow yourself to be tainted like this?! How could you do this to our marriage, Brian?!” “Darling, you’re having a panic attack. Look at me.” Brian was kneeling down next to his wife, eyes of pure concern as her chest shook with deep sobs. He tried to hand her a drink, but she couldn’t bear to place it to her lips. “I just can’t stop thinking about you… doing that- something so personal and private with someone else… with her…” Another fresh set of tears broke down her cheeks as her body screamed for air turning her voice weak. ”You left our home to be with another woman, Brian! Not on tour, not away in the world. You left me… for her.” The guilt was already steadily tightening a knot in his gut. His poor wife was broken, she’d been his greatest support and champion and he’d repaid her by doing this. “I’m so sorry.” Brian sniffled with his cuff pressed to his nose, knowing he had no right to cry and swallowed down his own tears. “I truly am. If I could take this back, I would. If I could do anything to take away your pain, I promise you, darling; I’d do anything. Keep breathing. Place your hands to your face and deep breaths.” Y/n did as he instructed and thankfully the actual attack was relatively short-lived from what she’d been experiencing recently. She hadn’t had anxiety attack’s regularly since she was nineteen. Before this had awful mess had happened, Brian was always there for her. He’d place a hand over the centre of her back and chest and shush her until she felt less claustrophobic and then he’d pull y/n’s body gently to his chest and enclose her in their own little bubble. Brian was y/n’s security blanket, a protector against the world and whatever scared her, but never did she think it would be his actions that could terrify her to the core. “I will never, ever fuck up so fucking badly again. I’ll spent every waking second of my life trying to make this right if you want me too. If you want me, that is. I worship the ground you and our boys walk on already and that will never change. Regardless of your decision. You’d never have to worry about money or anything such as that either. I’d make sure you got what you deserved. I’ll stand aside if you want me to.” Y/n hadn’t seen her husband cry over the situation much since she’d come home, he’d tried to be strong, but she could so often hear small sobs from behind closed doors or see how red his eyes were in the middle of the night. However, as he spoke those words he never imagined having to, he looked like some poor and broken man whose clothes didn’t fit and emotional pain physically manifested in his lithe frame. “Nothing can ever change how much I love you, y/n. You’ll be okay always; I promise you’ll get back to being happy soon.” “Just hold me.” Y/n was still so pained and emotionally raw but just maybe the attack had subsided as soon as Brian was close and calm. The ice-cold burn in her lungs subsiding slowly as her chest still felt like fire to touch. She needed him, as much as she wanted to deny it. Her thoughts from the last hour all swirled in her mind as she tried to focus on Brian in front of her with his soft voice of pure sincerity. Y/n reached out, taking his hand in her own and placing it over her heart. Without having to be asked, he started to rub soothing circles. Brian’s other hand moved to gently encourage her head against his own chest as he peppered kisses to her hair . It could have been minutes or hours, neither would be able to guess a time as Brian continued to whisper comforting words to her. “I want to take a shower… I can still feel everything on me. I just need to be fresh right now. If we’re having that conversation. I need to feel okay at least.” Y/n said as Brian groaned standing up, hissing in pain. “Just my knees. Don’t worry.” “I told you not to kneel so much on the cold floor. You’re too bony for that…” “Don’t worry about me. Y/n… I want to schedule another therapist appointment for us. Set of appointments really. I want to get back to however normal we can become.” “I do too. It’s just this feeling of-“ Y/n began at scratch at her arms to show what she felt. Brian just waved an understanding hand. “I know. Go shower and I’ll see you soon.” Almost on autopilot she went upstairs but began to strip off her clothes in the hallway to rid herself of one layer of bad feelings at a time. Brian sat back down completely unnerved at how bad it had truly gotten. How could he have missed such a thing? Every step forward felt like three back. He’d been so overjoyed just have her and the twins back in the house that everything else just seemed to pass him by. He gave a long sigh that racked his body with exhaustion and began to absentmindedly play with the ring on his finger again. When they’d gotten married it had meant too much to have something on his hand, something so small to show the world that he wasn’t such a mess anymore. Show the world he wasn’t walking alone anymore. Wherever and whoever he was that day, somewhere in the world someone was waiting for him, thinking about him and caring about his despite the distance between them. Gradually they both took their rings off for a plethora of reasons. It caught on his strings or the diamond band flashed the camera strangely when she was presenting a segment. At first, they’d both been unwilling, Brian would slip his on another finger for the tour and y/n would swirl the band around but slowly they both became accustomed to not having that little bit of precious metal on their person more and more. Plodding with leaden steps, he pottered into the kitchen; letting the dog out and then setting on making her a snack, still concerned about the lack of care his wife was taking of herself and it was all his fault. Upstairs y/n was doing almost the same thing as Brian, contemplative and alone in the shower, but eyeing the diamond wedding band sat neatly on the shelf as she washed the shampoo from her hair. She only wore her rings when she went out now, just to not allow any news outlets to try to drag out the already well worked affair. bur Brian had not taken his off for a moment during the recent months, but y/n was still so deep in denial of her feelings that it only served as a reminder of what had happened. When they’d gotten married it seemed so serious and grown up to walk around with a wedding band holding down her engagement ring, she’d play with it all the time and if she was deep in thought she’d tap one ring against the other until her husband would wordlessly press his hand over hers when it had sufficiently irritated him. There was a knock at the ensuite door, shaking her from her thoughts as Brian spoke. “I’ve brought you some toast and a drink up. By the bed. This is fresh out of the dyer.” A pristine towel was unceremoniously dropped through the gap. “I’ll sleep in the guest room.” “It’s not very late, Bri.” She said with a frown hearing the depletion in his voice but getting no response as the bedroom door closed with a small thud of frustration. Brian was stood outside looking at the wall of family pictures and achievements that lined the hallway. The kid’s certificates and his gold discs with their degrees in between previously captured memories. He smiled as he looked between his favourites, only putting them back up when she agreed to come home, their memories far too painful for the month without his wife and younger children especially when his older ones could barely bring themselves to acknowledge that he may be pained too. Lovingly, he stroked his most treasured one; himself, y/n and all five of his children at a after show party. They all looked so happy, Harry just over taking their sisters in height then whereas now the twins where both eye to eye with Brian. His girls had their arms around his wife and Brian pulled both his youngest and eldest son close with Fred kneeling with a cheesy smile plastered across his face and his mother’s hands on his shoulders. If only Brian could go back and tell himself to savour every second and never take them for granted. “What the fuck did you do?” He muttered and turned to go to the guest room far away from the bedroom he wasn’t sure he could still consider his own. Y/n watched as the suds ran over her body, removing all the marks left on her skin from Brian and anyone else. Regardless of how irrational she knew the feelings where they just couldn’t always be shaken away. She knew that nothing of that night would remain anywhere but his mind however, she wasn’t thinking rationally in those moments of utter pain. When they’d first started dating, it seemed a privilege to have Brian’s touch or something of his on her. He’d left his watch on her bedside table and she’d kept it safe on her wrist for two days before he’d come back to retrieve it. She liked being able to see a little reminder of her then boyfriend. Times had changed but still a large collection of random tour hoodies and his vintage T-shirt’s where still her favourite thing to lounge around in and when he was away on tour she’d press her face into the old fabric and breath in that scent that was just him. It wasn’t, however, the same as being able to lay on his chest or nuzzle into his neck from behind whilst he played guitar. That hadn’t happened for months though, hadn’t allowed herself to wrap him in an embrace wholeheartedly but Brian had desperately tried to comfort her or just have that intimacy. He’d try putting his hand on her knee in the car or trying to hook his little finger around hers like they used to when they sat somewhat near each other on the sofa once. Y/n wasn’t to blame for what Brian did, but she also had to saddle the responsibility of getting her marriage back on track if she indeed wanted things to get better. When the therapist had asked about their sex life since, Brian had brushed it off as ‘Fine, all things considering.’ However, she had sat silent; how could see tell the man she loved his touch made her skin crawl because she somehow thought he was covered with his mistress. They’d gone over every detail; she knew what and how it happened but the doubts where still there even after his unbridled honesty. It was now or never. She had to do something before he gave up trying, and y/n feared he was tittering on the edge of the precipice. It was apparently normal to be turned off from sex, but y/n made every effort to avoid even gentle touch and love but when she did accept it. It made everything melt away for those precious few moments before the memories hit like a tidal wave. ”Sometimes it’s just like he’s tainted. I can’t touch him without feeling that way too. I feel dirty and unclean. I instantly want to wash it off.” Y/n said as she sat quietly tucked away with Rogers/w/n in a small wine bar weeks ago, both their eyes scanning the street or bar for cameras or people listening in. “Do you feel he can wash it off? Realistically nothing left now, I know he’s not lying when he said about it being a onetime accident. Roger would know if it happened on tour with him and you know everyone on his solo tours and their families. I don’t think you wouldn’t know if something else had gone off…” “They’re on his payroll. Of course, they’d lie because he’s putting food on their tables. I wouldn’t blame them.” “But if you still see these…. these things… Have you heard of revenge sex? Claiming what’s yours. Make him yours again. I know it’s difficult, but I’ve seen how broken he is, admittedly I’m not talking to him or pitying him in anyway, but I know what he’s telling Rog and he’s devastated. You both need each other to go forward.” “You’re starting to sound like my therapist.” Y/n rolled her eyes as she swirled the wine in her glass. “She thinks that revenge or claiming sex isn’t good to start with, but she thinks I need to make more of an effort, I can tell that’s what she means. We’re going out and when we talk, it’s great, I know he’s honest and I don’t really question his loyalty to the family but the moment he wants to kiss. I just think about the fact he’s kissed someone else. He’s done even bloody more than just a kiss. It wasn’t even like he was on tour and it just happened. He left our house to be with her. He could have said no. A few glasses of wine? Like that’s an excuse, he knows I’d have picked him up if he’d have called.” Y/n’s friend had just sat there and pouted in thought, letting her friend speak. She hadn’t gotten y/n to really open up at all, only flashes of emotion before someone or something would take their attention. “I want to be able to accept him back like before, but I- I just can’t…” She took a large gulp of her drink, avoiding her friends’ sympathetic eyes in a bid to not cry again. “The therapist suggested a spa treatment or showering together because it’s personal and private… relaxing but I don’t know.” “Because you were obviously not freaky before.” R/w/n teased and rolled her eyes which raised a small laugh before her friend covered her hand with her own. “You’re paying a small fortune, try what she’s suggesting if you can. Don’t even say about the boys, you know I’ll have them any time.” Y/n took a deep breath as she stepped out the shower and wrapped the still warm towel around herself. Purposely she walked to the other side of the bathroom. She took her wedding and engagement rings and pushed them onto her finger to where they are meant to sit. It warmed her soul, she’d admit, to feel them again on her own terms. Tenderly she brought them to her lips, kissing them with a thousand resealed promises. “Brian?!” She called for him as she scanned the bedroom and into the hallway but only the dog gave a brief bark from one of the boys’ rooms. Briefly she glimpsed their wedding photos even more determined to somehow make this fade into the distance. Her steps where brisk as she caught the sound of the main shower running and the open guest room door. “Hi.” Y/n breathed into the steamy room, breaking Brian from his thoughts and pulling his head away from the tiles but keeping the soaped wash scrubber in his hand. “Are you okay?” He asked concerned to why she’d come to him. “Is something wrong, love?” Y/n gave a gentle shake of her head, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I love you.” She spoke definitely and honestly. “Can I join you?” Brian was understandably taken aback, he’d only really gotten in the shower as a way to waste some time before the inevitable time he’d have to retire to a bed that wasn’t his own and fight his body’s natural want to be awake but the pain of sitting alone in his home was too great on his heart to bare. “Yeah…” Unashamedly her towel was dropped and kicked to the side of the room with a confidence rooted more in ‘fake it till you make it’ than anything else. However, her husband was wide eyed and breathless as she slipped around the shower screen and pulled him into a chaste kiss. “I want to make this work. I really, really want to get through this rough patch.” “Me too.” He whispered as y/n draped her arms around his neck and pressed their bodies together under the streams of hot water. Brian instantly pushed his face into her shoulder, kissing any wet skin his lips could land on as his arms circled around her waist so tightly. “I love you so much.” Hazel eyes were forced open, gazing at the curves of her hips and dimples on her back; he tried to memorise every dip and sweep of her flesh that he’d taken for granted just in case he didn’t get the chance to do so again. “I know you do… Stay with me tonight.” Y/n turned her face, pressing a long overdue kiss to his jaw. “Stay in our bed. Please?” The thud of her heart was noticeable between their chests as her nerves grew. What if he said no? Brian smiled tight lipped, almost like a nervous teenager, nodding as his cheeks grew pink with a blush of happy energy radiating through his body even though he’d claim it was just the hot water. With a deep breath she reached behind her back, taking his hand and the shower mitt before bringing it up to his face and brushing the soap over his mouth, cheeks and jaw line. The red marks weren’t there but she pictured them fading away like the exercise had said, each one of them being soaped away with each pass of her hand over his neck. Y/n watched the red turn pink and then be washed away as he tilted his head under the water, his usually wild curls somewhat subdued. “Is there a good reason you’re trying to water board me?” Brian teased y/n before she rolled her eyes with a simple nod. She forced her hand lower; looking over his scared stomach before her hands travelled back up his lithe chest. The mixture of soap and water made his skin slick so y/n’s hands could easily spread around and rub at whatever area she wanted to be hers again. “You are mine, aren’t you? Only mine?” Brian nodded; they didn’t need more than necessary words in this situation. His chest was next, running over every bump of his ribs from his sternum to his waist and feeling the rise and fall of his breath from underneath. “Yes. Only yours, my love.” She needed one reassurance and only alone. His stomach was so badly marked from being young, she couldn’t even contemplate having to watch him go through so many seriously illnesses back to back. Y/n always admired his emotional strength and drive to get better in such dire circumstances. Circling his hips before dropping lower to massage the soap around his long legs, kneeling before him as Brian kept much of the water from hitting y/n. Even though his legs carried almost no muscle, he always had these perfect curves and soft lines of definition. Y/n had to say, the blessing of that first hot summer together had caused her so many distractions when they’d laid out in Brian’s garden to escape the heat of the city. It was so perfectly private for their burning passions for each other. They’d barely worn clothes for those days and anything inside seemed an impossible task. He hummed as fingers pressed into and massaged his calves. “That feels really quite nice.”   A gentle kiss fell to his knee, still red from kneeling so long downstairs. She moved to his thighs, looking up at him through wet lashes to see his eyes half closed and his lips holding a smile. Brian took the soap in his palm, sweeping it over her shoulders with so much care and attention. Neither of them had to speak as his slender fingers massaged into her shoulders till, she moaned out and closed her eyes, thumbs digging into his thighs with a gasp. They never felt pressured to always be talking, many years of love and kinship meant they could communicate on so many levels together. Cautiously sweeping quickly over his crotch as she stood, focusing on his reaction, but his soft moans and bite to his lip awaked something almost forgotten within her. The wash cloth was released from her grip as she allowed her hand to dance along the hot skin of his hip bones causing his breath to catch and his eyes to close as the back of her hand brushed against his length before slipping it fully between her palm and instantly feeling pulses of excitement start to throb. “Don’t-“ He pushed her hand away just slightly as his pent-up sexual want bubbled at his surface and fogged his mind. “Kiss me.” It came out as a small, desperate whisper but Brian needed no explanation or further instructions as he dipped his head to connect his lips to his wife’s. The pressure was strong and consistent, but it wasn’t meant to be sexual, any emotion or connection he tried to pour into kissing her and ignore the ghosting touch to his twitching cock. It was y/n who opened her mouth slightly causing a gasp to vibrate through her lips before a long groan. They picked up where they left off downstairs with little gasps and moans and his hands squeezed her hips but as he went to use the path of the water to slide down her to her bum, he remembered and instead just rubbed a small path up to her waist. “No. Touch me.” She murmured before kissing him deeply again as a thousand locked away feelings flooded their minds so almost nothing could come.  “I want you to touch me. Can I touch you?” She asked but Brian just gave a long groan and nodded before kissing her again. Her soaped palm glided over his sensitive weights before taking his semi hard shaft and teasing it with a light and slow jerk of her hand. “Oh god…” Y/n waist was possibly Brian’s favourite part of her body. Hourglass curves where definitely his new weakness for y/n. Brian kissed her again but pulled away, looking deeply into her eyes as his hands stayed situated and hers continued to tease his hardening cock. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” Y/n whispered, pushing onto her tip toes to kiss Brian’s cheek. It just felt so sensual and perfect to have her husband back without the pressure. She needed to go forward and remember why they fell in love, why this all happened and how badly she needed him. His eyes trailed her body, barely speaking as he gave her a gentle squeeze. “You’re so beautiful and, gosh, I love this waist; you’re so perfect. I love being able to hold you by it when we’re out at parties or just getting coffee so everyone knows your mine.” “I’ve always been yours and you’re mine. You are mine regardless of anything else.” Brian kissed her cheeks in return as the emotion almost broke her voice. “When else… I miss your voice. I miss you.” His usually agile mind was clouded and fogged with intense desire. “When I make love to you…” Brian almost blurted out with a long moan but earned himself a reassuring kiss to his jaw. “or when you wrap your body around mine and you make love with me,“ he kissed the shell of her ear. "so I know you’re mine or even when we can’t wait, and I fuck you hard and fast. I’ll lock my hands onto your waist and pull you into me, so you know you’re mine.” Y/n gasped at Brian’s words, so teasing and tempting and yet almost alien from anything she’d heard in the last few months. All she knew was her mind was screaming for everything in that description. She wanted to be around his body as they melted into each other and the rest of the world and the utter bullshit it contained drifted into insignificance. “Make me yours. Remind me who’s I am. I want to be yours again.” Brian’s lips were attacking his wife’s before she’d even finished speaking, his knees dipping to her level. “Come be mine. I want you back.” “You’ve already got me. You’ve got me always.” His mouth left hers with his hands coming to her cheeks and forcing their eyes to lock. “I love you. You know that, don’t you? Forever and a day.” Y/n nodded, pressing three short kisses to his lips as tears threatened to bite at her eyes. ‘Forever and a day’ such a simple statement but to them it held so much. He’d said it when he proposed, when they got married but he’d first said it after a fight shortly after they’d gotten serious. Brian was worried about their age gap and the intense public scrutiny of y/n and their relationship and y/n had taken it so personally about herself because she didn’t see an older man when she looked at Brian. She saw someone on her level. However, to him, in that moment he was trying to save them both time and his heartache when the novelty wore off, pressure became too much, or her parents decided they hated him and eventually she went home with a sob story. “Forever and a day.” He repeated, holding her jaw as if it was delicate glass that could snap at any point and leave his fingers cut to ribbons. Until she too whispered the words just loudly enough to hear over the muffle of the shower water bouncing off the tiles. They were desperate kisses and she willed her mind to keep her focus on her husband not allow anything but excitement to creep into her thoughts. The fear that it would all end with anxiety still weighting at the back of her mind. She prayed to anything or anyone who would listen that the advice would work. Y/n took a hold of her husbands’ thick forearms moving his hands along her waist and hips to her thighs before dragging his palms to her chest.   Brian too had his own nerves about pushing his wife or the ever-creeping doubt she simply didn’t find him attractive anymore. He was so incredibly apprehensive to just be touching his lover as he’d been rejected too many times to the point it felt almost like she hated him. Their old life felt like a distant memory of happier times and burning flames of excitement. “Brian please…” She whined. Calloused hands cupped her breasts with his thumb just brushing her left nipple as y/n squeezed his bicep with a small moan. “This okay?” He muttered against her cheek as his wife’s hands slid up onto his shoulders and pressed them even closer together. “Oh, fuck yes.” A soft mouth attached to hers before moving along her jaw and down her neck. She melted whenever his lips were working the column with soft nips and the effect had most certainly not died. His thumb worked her nipple into a stiff peak as his fingers got involved in pinching and mildly rolling it between his rough fingertips. Her eyes closing involuntarily from the combination of her husband attention and craving to get out of her own mind. Brian’s tongue stiffened and licked along her collar bone before moving down the centre of her chest with a drawn-out gasp of his name. He moved to kiss and lick the underside of her ignored breast with his hand sweeping down her side to gauge her reaction to touching her full arse, Brian’s mouth attached around her nipple with a deep groan that vibrated through his lips. “More.” Y/n gasped as her back arched and pushed her tits out even more. Finally, the apprehension was starting to fade as they fell into step with each other. His fingers knew exactly how to draw on her skin as hers knew the pressure points on his neck to squeeze whenever he hit a perfect spot. Time seemed to slow down as they’re touches sped up with Brian’s mouth crossing to take her other bud between his teeth until his wife was wrapping her thigh around his hips in need some friction with moans that reverberated around the tiles. “Why don’t we take this to bed?” He said, voice deep and dripping with honey.   Without an answer, her mind too full to form words, shaking legs backed her body out of the shower before wrapping herself in the forgotten towel and picking up the warming fresh one from rail before holding out for her husband to step into. For the first time in a while she wanted to take care of him like before, there wasn’t any edge of pain or sadness as he chuckled roughly with the towel stroking over his face and ridding the droplets of water that had fell from his hair. It felt like a dream, like it could all crumble in a second for Brian and into a nightmare. It had done before. Whenever he felt like he was finally getting the light back into her eyes, something would change and then the world would collapse in on her; just leaving two people stood with broken hearts and no way to console each other without further pain. So easily could this feeling of jubilation from just her touching his chin fly into reminders of what he’d done. He let y/n lead the way down the hall and pulling him into their bedroom. She turned to him with a wicked smirk, as she flicked the bedside lamp on, her confidence evidently growing as she threw the last thing covering her naked body to the side. Brian’s jaw dropped once more causing a warming sensation of pride to run through her chest and cheeks. Lips connected back together with smirks and gasps as hands began to roam skin that was untouched for so long. Y/n ran a finger down the centre of his chest to the deep scars on his stomach feeling the muscles of his abdomen tense and shiver under her barely there touch. Nerves and anticipation grew in both their stomachs as a sensual kiss deepened into something far more passionate. Almost silent gasps and moans ran between the two. They could both write a book on the other; for example, all she had to do to get Brian in the mood was softly moan as she kissed his neck and chest whilst he read a book in bed and y/n knees would go weak if Brian pulled her leg around his hip and ran just fingertips along her sensitive inner thigh until a shiver ran down her spine or if his teeth nipped her bottom lip if he’d give her a pseudo innocent kiss and her a teasing slap to her behind; especially effective if it was a routine task she was doing or a seemingly bad time. Namely, either them had to leave the house shortly and she still had about twenty thousand things to do that afternoon. But she loved it, being taken over the sofa or wherever they were in the house, both their clothes just moved up or down enough to get access to their lover. She craved that wanting back; wanting him to take her again and just wanting to be taken. Brian the same, he’d take just being back in the bed for now, but he wanted to complain when he read and reread the same page over and over until he gave in and felt her triumphant smirk all over his body. Y/n gave her husband a gentle and encouraging push towards their bed. They’re lips continued to move together as he pulled y/n with him as he sat on the edge of the bed with his partner falling into his lap with a muffled giggle. Trying to force his back into the sheets, her husband gave a slight shake of his head before roughly yet playfully flipping her onto her back. “Oh, that’s how this is going to go, eh, Mr May?” Y/n was trying to sound teasing, but it just came out as an aching whine when her chest heaved for breath from wild mental overload of the last hour. “I believe I was starting something in the shower and I’d quite like to finish that, Mrs May.” Fingers danced along her ticklish sides as she squirmed under his touch as his mouth dragged and the connected to her hip. He licked, sucked and bit all over her lower stomach and sharp hip bones over her mound and along her thighs. Every minuscule movement caused either a gasp or expletive to leave her lips as her fingers tangled into the sheets to not distract Brian from what he was doing. It wouldn’t have mattered anyways; he was far too lost in teasing her. He needed to feel those little spasms of her muscles or pushing her most private area off the bed as he continued to get closer to actually having his mouth there before kissing back to her neck. Y/n instantly started to try and push his shoulders back down, groaning in his ear quietly about how much she needed her partners touch. Just as her back arched and tried to grind herself against his thigh Brian, shifted to lay next to her and his hand ghosted down her stomach. Long fingers parted her sensitive lips as he groaned and felt the wetness already pooling at her entrance. Holding her apart with his index and ring finger his middle dipped at her entrance and dragged the fluid upwards to gently stroke over the hidden shaft of her clitoris. Brian watched his wife’s eyes close tightly, her back arching at the barely their touch as she pulled his face to hers and began to moan against his lips as her hips rutted and moved his finger along herself. “Don’t tease me. I can’t take it.” Y/n all but whined causing a low rumble with a hint of laugher to rise from Brian. She always was so needy, another day, when they’d reconnected fully, he’d tease her, tie her to the bed and really make it tortuous. “I said I wanted to be yours. Make me yours like you promised. I want it. I need it, Bri.” The smallest and softest kiss was pressed to her lips, barely even any pressure before he was sliding off the bed and onto his knees on the discarded towel. Brian yanked y/n with a surprised squeal towards him with. Strong hands pushed her thighs over his shoulders and massaged the tension he found. “As you wish, my love.” He peppered kisses and soft licks to her inner thigh and y/n pushed onto her elbows to take in the scene before her. He looked absolutely fantastic with his wet hair and eyes blown with lust as he teased his lover. A playful tongue flicked along the tendons were her legs melted into intimate skin before dropping more kisses anywhere but where she craved him. A gasp ran through her throat as she breathlessly begged for more. “Please. Please. Please, baby, please. Baby more.” Brian let the words float for a moment, hearing her almost pathetically mewling for him. He’d craved this for so long and now he wanted to savour every second; memorise every line or movement and taste against his lips. A long stripe was licked along her lips with a flattened tongue, instantly rewarded with a hiss and squeeze of her legs. Y/n looked down to her partner with a moan as she brushed a drying curl out of his eyes. Using a smile of bliss, she gave him a confirmation which made butterflies erupt in his stomach, as their eyes remained locked his tongue pointed and opened her before pushing his face between her legs with a satisfied hum. Hot and wet, his tongue began to tease circles around her pulsing bud. Y/n was in absolute heaven her mind was clear of everything but their little sanctuary and neither her hand nor vibrator had come close to getting her this aroused as he could. She could feel the slickness ever growing and mixing with his saliva as he closed his eyes and head shook as he licked her like the best thing he’d ever tasted. His hand had her locked down across her stomach, gripping her hip so hard it would almost certainly leave bruises as she entangled her fingers into his hair to keep that much needed stimulation. Y/n’s eyes fluttered shut as his tongue hit a partially sensitive spot, but she caught her own scream with her teeth digging into her lower lip. Brian’s keen ears heard the change of tone and he looked up to such a beautiful sight but god he needed to hear her moan his name again. His hand left her hips allowing them to instantly be bucking to his mouth more and pulled her lip free. “I want to hear you. Be as loud as you want, my darling.” He smirked, before pressing back to suck and kiss her clit feverishly. “Inside me. I- I want- holy fuck- your fingers inside me.” Without thought he pulled back earning a long groan of annoyance before he sucked his finger into his mouth and sat back on his heels to see her entrance dripping for him. “Babe?” Y/n asked as she saw his jaw go slack and doubts filled her suddenly. “You’re so unbelievably wet.” Two fingers went between her sensitive inner folds as his fingers coated themselves with the thick arousal and his wife moaned at seeing her husband so deeply engaged with her body. “So wet for me. Your little clitoris is throbbing, darling. Can I put these in you now?” Frantically she nodded with the heel of her foot digging into his back with wordless pleas. Y/n dropped herself back fully into the downy sheets, no longer able to hold her body up with the tension ripping her muscles.   Both of Brian’s fingers circled her hole and his arm slipped back around her hips to hold her in place as the moans grew in volume. He had the best fingers, as if they were made just for y/n. They were slender but so long and his touch could flip from gentle and sweet with whispers of love and admiration falling from his lips to roughly finger fucking her with unmentionable fantasies being grunted in her ear. The two digits began to push inside of y/n each knuckle being squeezed, and his movements held until her opening relaxed around him to take a little more. “Just fuck me.” She groaned trying to flick her hips under his strength. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’re extremely tight… again.” He smirked at the last element to his statement. It did all feel strangely familiar yet new and exciting just as it did when they first met. “I can hear you being a smug bastar-“ Her voice cut off as Brian’s thumb reached out and began to flick her clit when he was fully taken in. “Smug, you say?” He laughed and received a small kick of pleasure or playful annoyance; he wasn’t going to question either way. His mouth connected back to replace his thumb. Y/n instantly began to arch off the bed, her legs tightening around Brian’s still damp hair and locking her ankles in the centre of his shoulders to aid her rocking herself against his tongue. “Fuck! Brian!” Her moans were so loud as she arched for him and his feet shook slightly in pleasure against his back. It didn’t take much of his fingers curling into her tight heat to have her shaking on the edge and with loud moans. Y/n reached one hand above her head to grab the sheets and the other to force her fingers between Brian’s on her hip. Her knuckles where white as his thumb lovingly stroked hers in contrast to the hard and precise flicks of his tongue as he wrote a thousand promises against his wife. He promised to be true, dedicate every moment of his life to her and be on his knees for only her; whatever her needs. “Keep going. I’m close.” Brian’s efforts ramped up. His fingers moving as fast as possible as his chin was cupped in his palm and feeling the deep groans through his jaw as she started to clamp down to almost pain on his fingers. “I’m going to cum… I’m- fuck- I’m-“ A long moan left her mouth as her orgasm took over. Y/n had Brian clamped by her thighs and her nails were surely digging into his hand enough to leave imprints as he tried to keep enough contact to work her through her high and draw it out as much as possible. Long fingers continued to curl inside of her, rubbing the rough area of her gspot, as she spasmed around them and his tongue sucking and licking any bit of wetness he could. “Fuck! Sensitive.” She muttered with her eyes still tightly closed and her lip pouting out as she pushed his mouth away from her. Brian was panting just as hard, not that he realised how he was struggling to breath, until he wiped his face; making his wife cum was far more important than air tonight. He hadn’t had a release yet but his mind had equally blanked on anything except for how her body writhed in ecstasy, how her rib cage exposed itself as she gasped or the pornographic moans falling from those beautiful lips mixed with the sweet taste against his tongue and steady pooling of her down his fingers and into his palm. “Hard one?” He asked, kissing her inner thigh and his fingers softly pumping in and out of her perfectly pink centre. Y/n could only just about muster a nod. “Been a while, hasn’t it, darling?” “Too long.” Y/n said, she didn’t really have much to say for pillow or dirty talk, but she loved to listen to his soft voice asking or saying the most perverse things. “Do you feel like mine again, my love?” A sharp nip to the tender skin making her whimper. “Yes.” She whimpered. “If I could, I’d spend every evening between your legs. You taste so beautiful and feel so incredible. I just love devouring you. I’ve missed doing this to you so badly. I crave you like no other, my love. I love you so much, but no one physically has ever had me like you. You do understand that it’s you for me. Always.” “Forever…” y/n squeezed his hand, their wedding rings knocking together almost symbolically in the moment with no other sound. “I know. I know. I don’t doubt you.” Brian kissed his way back up her body but keeping his fingers inside of her in a want to be one with his wife in every possible way. However, she gently pulled away his wrist and moved further onto the bed, both of them on their knees as they kissed and held each other’s hips. She could taste herself on his lips, but she wasn’t ashamed to moan out. He was finally hers, covered in his wife and no one else. The red spots didn’t concern her anymore because they didn’t exist anymore. He smelt like home; his aftershave, her perfume and fresh country air. The past needed to be put to bed for both of them; they needed each other more than ever before. Y/n let out a small yelp as she pressed her hips into his and felt an already raging erection. “And what would this be?” She grinned, stroking his length ever so slowly. Brian instantly groaned, his lip between his teeth until her index finger pulled it loose. “Ah ah ah. I want to hear you.” Y/n dropped onto her elbows in front of him, moving her body to be across his, allowing him access to spank or touch her, as she took the already red and leaking tip of his cock between her full lips. He tasted as he always did, the sweetest she’d had but easily the biggest, meaning she could never take him close to fully. With innocent eyes she looked up, seeing his expression already tense as she slapped the head of his cock against her tongue before pushing as much as she could between her lips and wantonly moaning. The sadness may have momentarily passed but the situation still felt different to how it once did. Brian’s hands didn’t immediately come down on her or sweep her hair away to up his visual. She wondered how he felt in the moment; he was trying so hard to reassure y/n but it wasn’t lost on either of them the last bit of sexual contact they’d had she’d dragged his orgasm out whilst encouraging him to use her mouth for his own pleasure. Brian’s guilt was ever consuming him to the point he couldn’t allow himself to be sheathed inside of y/n knowing how he’d betrayed her. In her mind, she would do anything and everything she possibly could to help him be happy. She was his wife after all and although she would never describe it as her duty to pleasure him, if she could fuck him into some relief and sleep, she would. “So good… baby, so perfect…” “Bri?” His eyes opened as he helped his wife back to her knees and their arms wrapping around each other. “Yes, my love?” He asked, brushing her now dry waves with creeping concern at his wife’s sudden demeanour change. “What’s wrong?” “I just need you to promise that you mean this? You mean tonight. I know it’s silly, but I just need to hear it.” Her eyes reflected conflict and pain in them both only his where blown dark with arousal. “I love you. I want you. I need you. You’re my wife. You’ll always be the love of my life. It’ll be work but I will do whatever you need… Shall we cuddle for a while?” He was already motioning to lay down but the words of her friend and therapist rang in her ears. “I’d love to cuddle up with you, my darling.” ’Claim him’  “I can just ride you for a while?” Brian didn’t know what to say, his jaw loose as he somehow murmured a confirmation. He didn’t need any help, but she still jerked his cock a few times to take it back to its full hardness. He’d always felt incredible in her hand and the power to make this tall, handsome and strong man crumble to whimpers was joyous. Y/n sat astride her husband’s thin thighs as she moved her hips to brush along his length caused an unbridled hiss from Brian when he felt the first bit of heat. Her confidence was one again starting to reform. Her hands fell onto his chest as the head hit her still sensitive clit. “We don’t have to-“ he whispered, brushing back stray hairs as he watched her face intently. “Yes, we do.” “I’m more than satisfied making you do that. I don’t need-“ “I do. I need to do this. I need to make you…” Slowly y/n sank down onto his length with a long moan. “Inside me. I need you to…” It felt like when they first started dating or he’d go away on tour; that familiar stretch of how well-endowed he really was. “Fuck.” It took all his willpower not to flip the positions and fuck her with every fibre of strength he could find but the tightness, the wetness and the emotions combined. His mind was drowning in overstimulation and he knew he couldn’t possibly last long. Rough hands where like magnets to her waist now, encouraging the slow grind as he focused all of his being into her. “Just like that.” Brian whispered as his wife’s hands clawed lightly at his chest. “You feel so perfect, y/n.” At the utterance of her name, her cunt gave a sharp squeeze to his cock. That’s what was missing, she feared somewhere well-hidden it wasn’t her he pictured when he closed his eyes. Her hips sped up just a little bit, longer strokes as she rode him. “Promise you love me?” Her manicured nails dragged across his chest leaving pink lines on his pale skin as her hips rocked fully at speed now. It broke his heart to have to tell her something she should indefinitely know. “I promise… This is how I love seeing you, y/n. What keeps me going on the road and those dirty videos you send obviously help.” Y/n gave a small smile but closed her eyes in pleasure starting to build again. “I’ve missed you around me so much. You have no idea how wonderful it feels for the one person you love to have you literally inside of them. We’re one, you and I, y/n.“ “I love you. I love you so much, Brian.” Her voice was desperate, broken as she chased her release and tried so hard to claim his body. Their hips rocked together with breathy moans and Brian brushing both their untamed locks from their faces. “God, I can’t wait to feel you cum on my cock. Can’t wait to pound into you and feel you tighten. You say my name prettier than anyone ever could.” Unexpectedly, she moved from his length, on all fours as she waited in the middle of the bed. “I want that. I want you to take me hard. Make me scream your name. Use all your body on mine.” Brian scrambled into his knees with his hands magnetised to her cheeks as he laid out a heavy slap. Her form jolted forward with a moan being dragged across her lips. It wasn’t their usual sex but the freedom to be loud was never something he wanted to let pass them by and in these situations, he couldn’t refrain from doing so. “Sorry.” He muttered, dropping an apologetic kiss on her back. “Don’t be. I liked it.” Lining his already wet cock with her entrance, Brian took a deep breath and reminded himself to take his time knowing how it was all be over far too quickly. He ran himself through her sensitive folds as little whimpers of approval cascaded from y/n. Her face was tightly scrunched and pushed into the duvet as her hips pushed back searching for more stimulation mixed with the incredible feeling of fullness that only Brian could bring her. Another harsh spank came down to her cheek, his fingers rubbed the area; he wanted both to cause it to redden but also caress and tease his lover. “Punish me.” Brian’s ears just about heard the weak murmur. “Why?” “I’ve not been a good wife.” “I’ll punish you for putting yourself down only.” He lent forward dropping a chaste kiss to her shoulder as his hand gave another burning slap to her hot skin which only made her hiss and groan further. Brian’s hard cock slipped back inside of y/n as she pushed herself onto him. He let out a deep groan as he indulged himself by holding her open and watching his glistening cock being bounced on as her lips and opening dragged around his shaft. ”You’re so perfect.” He whispered. “So perfect for me.” “Yeah?” Y/n mumbled and got onto her hands with closed eyes in hopes of freeing her mind again. “Hit me again.” His large hand covered most of her cheek as she groaned from the pain slowly turning into pleasure. “Fuckkkkk…” y/n collapsed forward again but reached her hand behind her, clicking her fingers until she felt his palm against hers. She moved her hair to one side and bit into cover underneath her in pure pleasure. “I love you. Only you.” It felt electric, their bodies crashing into each other’s as Brian didn’t give her a moment to adjust before he was slamming himself deep within her. Y/n could do nothing more than moan and rock in time with his set rhythm, but she could hear his low panting growl and knew he was just as into this as her. He crushed her hand in his and lent forward to use her shoulder as a holding point to use even more force in their desperation. “Feels so good.” She whimpered under her husband’s strong hands. “I want you to cum in me. Do you feel like I do?” “It’s about to feel even better. Come here.” He whispered, pulling y/n’s arm and shoulder until she had her back pressed against his chest whilst he peppered kisses to her shoulder and exposed neck. “I want to be with you. Make love with me, baby. I’ve missed you with me.” Brian’s left hand took a hold of her jutting hip bone and his right looped her body and turned her flushed face to his. He pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his wife’s mouth. Her husband knew how much she enjoyed positions of this variant, always in the shower, or a quickie when they were on a time schedule. She loved how easily he’d stimulate her g-spot and how deeply his cock would press into her and the intimacy of his hands having the full play of her body. Brian couldn’t lie and say it was fantastic to have his wife whimpering under him as he toyed with her clitoris or breasts and could suck and bite into her neck and feel the incredible tightness around his shaft. Y/n couldn’t wait however, pushing his fingers towards her aching wetness. Brian mewled in her ear as he found his fingertips once again brushing between her soft lips and feeling the hardened nub twitch under his tight circles. “Fuck… just there.” She moaned as their hips met in perfect, rehearsed rhythm. The tightness around his cock was elevating and make it almost impossible for Brian to keep time as he bit into her neck with a groan. ”I’m going to cum… Fuck, Bri, ” she whimpered once again and grabbed onto his hair to pull their cheeks together. Hot breath fanned over her skin as she listened to get husband moan her name as he slammed into her and tried to hold back his own orgasm. Pressing a kiss to his cheek she whispered for only him. “Cum with me.” Both their efforts on each other amplified; her bouncing and arching her back and the sharp snap of Brian’s hips against her backside with his hands pulling her even to him. He groaned and grunted about how much he loved her, and she started to almost scream his name as the tight knots in both their stomachs began to grow and tighten. Y/n kept her head turned to kiss any part of his face she could and give him a show by squeezing her own nipple to intensify her bodies reaction to him. Y/n started to clench around Brian’s cock, seeming to beg for his orgasm. As much as he wanted to hold off, he simply couldn’t as he opened his eyes to the curve of his lovers body, her hand on her own breast and his between her legs with her hand squeezing his wrist and the other tugging deep in his mass of curls. “Yes! I’m so close… Cum with me please!” She moaned breathlessly as she felt his thrusts become erratic and the warmth of relief starting to spread from her centre. Her thighs tingled as her climax fully took over her body, hips spasmed as she loudly moaned. Orgasms halted any thoughts but of them reaching their peaks together. Her cunt claimed his release with every pulsating squeeze of her muscles as her hips took over the movement of sliding up and down his twitching length as Brian moaned quietly and kissed his wife’s neck as she tugged his hair with the last ebbs of her orgasm fleeting through her body. “Done. I’m done, babe.” y/n whispered, kissing his cheek as she pulled away his hand that hadn’t stopped the consistent circles on her clitoris. Usually he’d be far more in tune with her, but y/n could tell her husband was in the final grips of his own pleasure. Brian’s eyes were closed as he felt himself finally stop shooting inside of her walls. They’d both surely be painted by the load he’d fucked deep within her. Both stayed wrapped up and gasping for breath enjoying bathing in the afterglow after so long. Brian loved her how her body felt, all warm and pressed against his chest, her shampoo scent and the taste of her lips in his mouth , how he could feel his seed already dribbling down his shaft with her juices was downright unexplainably incredible. He nuzzled into her shoulder, his arms tightly around her waist with one of hers on his cheek and the other onto of his arms, as he laid gentle kisses anywhere, he could. Part of him never really knew if they’d ever experience this feeling together again. “That was amazing.” He muttered as he smiled softly at his wife’s kisses falling against his cheek bone and tilted his head around to deeply kiss her. “You know, you’re the only thing holding me up right now.” She gave a feeble laugh, but she wasn’t going to do anything to change it. “I feel like jelly.” “You just feel nice to hold.” Brian’s honesty and squeeze made her heart bloom, small, broken pieces gluing back together in her chest. It was slow but it felt like she had gathered each tiny bit in her chest to allow them to come back and each one still had his name stamped on them. “Let’s get cleaned up.” “I can’t stand Brian, let alone shower. That’s what you do to me.” He placed a few kisses to her exposed neck, whispering things she couldn’t make out. Y/n hissed slightly in overstimulation as he pulled himself out, his load already starting to fall as Brian moved away and helped her to lay on weak limbs. Y/n saw her husband open his bedside table, a mystery in recent months, and pull out a set of wipes and turned his body away from her view. Quietly he cleaned his fading erection and wiped down his thighs from her juices. Honestly, he wouldn’t have cared but he knew she would. “Can you just come cuddle with me already?” Y/n whined as her eyelids were already heavy with the want to be embraced and sleep soundly for the first time in months. “Just spread your legs first.” “Kinky.” Brian bit back a laugh with a roll of his own eyes when he went to push open her thighs and take a fresh wipe over her mound. The coolness made her gasp and then Brian couldn’t hold back the groan of watching his wife so exposed and her pussy swollen, pink and covered in him. He certainly did not want to take that little bit of himself from her body and neither did she. He was allowed to clean her ever so gently and lovingly. “That stopped your back chatting pretty quickly.” A hand moved to Brian’s stomach, pushing him away slightly but her thumb caressing along his hip bone. “I’m exhausted stop trying to get me going again. Come be a gentleman and cuddle.” Brian shifted his weight over his wife to ‘his’ side of the bed and yanked the covers out from her legs before draping them over both of their naked bodies. He flicked off the bedside light to blacken the room. “I don’t want to fall asleep yet…” y/n muttered already drowsy, her eyes closing and opening slowly. Fingertips held her chin as he slowly kissed every part of her face before pressing an affectionate kiss to her lips. “Go to sleep. You need your sleep, angel.” He knew neither of them had barely slept in months, so he passively allowed her to manoeuvre his body onto his back and one arm around looping her shoulders and the other clasping their hands together on his abdomen. Her head rested against his chest, occasionally kissing just above his heart as she fought to stay away until she felt Brian’s breathing turn slow and deep. The shrill ring of the telephone on her bedside woke y/n with a jolt. Brian groaned, squeezing his wife’s body currently being spooned against his. “Take it off the hook. It’s bloody late.” Angrily he muttered with a full rasp to his voice. “Hello?” Y/n pressed the phone to her ear without even opening her eyes fully. “Just in bed… Yeah it’s- Jesus- three am. Of course, we’re asleep… One second,” she knocked the phone into Brian’s shoulder. “Roger wants you.” “Seriously, what do you even want at this time?” Brian was certainly not a morning person. “Just letting you know all is well. Back home. Bought your kids a burger rather than that rabbit food you insist on feeding them.” Rogers voice was teasing as he put together the various scenarios in his mind. However, he couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a weight of his mind for his friend’s happiness. “Thank you…” Brian yawned, rubbing his eyes but also hearing Rogers knowing smirk through the line. “I’ll pick them up tomorrow lunch time, I guess. I’ll do the taxi next time.” “Have fun… Sleep well.” Brian threw the receiver back onto the bedside table. With a long sigh, he wrapped his arms around his dozing wife, but he knew sleep wouldn’t claim him again. Yet he stayed huddled up under soft blankets with naked skin against his pressing a loving kiss to her ear. They lay in each other’s embrace with Brian’s watching the red numbers of the alarm clock change in hopes of falling asleep. “I can hear you not sleeping.” Y/n groaned and rubbed her face into the sheets. “Bloody hell…” “Can’t sleep now either?” “No… but I’m happy just laying here for a while…” Y/n rolled in his arms, her face instantly nuzzling into his slightly stubbled neck with a sigh. “I’ve got to get up.” Brian whispered as he kissed the top of her head but received a needy groan. “I’ll come back soon. Tea and then back to bed.” “Fine, you owe me breakfast in bed.” “Breakfast of champions.” Brian muttered cheekily just loud enough for her to be able to decipher what he meant after a few moments thought. He received back a slap to his shoulder with a giggle as y/n pressed herself deeper under the warm covers of Brian’s side. “Dickhead.” Brian slipped from under the covers, careful to make as little noise as possible until he had the bedroom door shut behind him. He grabbed his plaid pyjama pants and soft sweatshirt from a tour long gone by.  Standing on the landing, his fingers ticked over his chin with a huge grin breaking onto his face. Utter disbelief and over whelming happiness ran through his every fibre as an unusual spring in his step happened as he started to descend the stairs. He couldn’t, however, resist the urge to hop back up and peer into the room. His wife looked ethereal; hair covering their pillows as the sheets tucked around her body but kept her shoulders exposed and one small, purple bruise on display. “Stop watching me sleep, you weirdo.” A breathy laugh fell from his lips, drumming his fingers against the door. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to…” “I’m up now. I couldn’t go back to sleep anyways. Make me a tea to apologise still though?” “Sure thing.” Brian tapped the door one more before flitting to the bed and pressing his body over hers. Y/n’s arms circled her husband’s neck with a contented smile as she pulled him into a long, chaste kiss. Y/n stretched her body, pushing her hands into her now dry hair, delightfully rolling her body against his; he kissed along her now exposed neck as he moved away. “I’m just nipping to the bathroom to brush my teeth.” Y/n shook her head at her husband’s little quirks. Almost instantly when he was out of bed, he had a toothbrush in his mouth. She’d missed those little intricacies so incredibly much, but she hadn’t realised how deeply until now. “My hair is so tangled; do you have a hair tie? Even if you were definitely on my wall at university, I didn’t think I’d marry someone with hair to his shoulders.” “No bobbles in here. Try your dressing table and then try the bedside draw. Might be some kicking around in there.” Brian shouted as he tried to wrestle his own matted curls, before wandering back through the bedroom, throwing her silky grey robe to y/n as he strode confidently to the hallway. “Anyways, would you rather I’d gone bald?” “Oh, certainly not. You’d look so incredibly… weird. You’d look even more ridiculous!” Y/n grimaced at the thought as she heard Brian’s brisk footsteps down the stairs. Herself, she went to use the bathroom, to look around and rinse her mouth with mint mouthwash, she loved Brian but his ability to miss something clearly in front of his face was unprecedented. She had a quick scan around but nothing that would even begin to be able to be repurposed. Back in the bedroom, the nightstand top was fairly clear; his book barely read, the bedside lamp with a small covering of dust, alarm clock and random trinkets Brian played with before sleep that she barely understood what current obsession they were linked too. She pulled open the draw; pushing aside the wipes and could stop the small blush rising through her cheeks at the sight of a new bullet vibrator and small bottle of lubricant. “Well someone had hopeful plans…” y/n muttered to herself with a giggle. Then the box at the back of the draw caught her eyes. An open box of condoms with a strip of foils already hanging out. She clasped a hand to her mouth in shock as her body started to shake in adrenaline, annoyance and furious anger burning in her spine. Y/n yanked the dressing gown belt tight around her waist as she pulled out the box and ran downstairs. Brian was in the kitchen, already lent against the worktop as he waited for the tea to brew. He rubbed his tired eyes with a long yawn before the box flew into the centre of his chest. Brian, looking down at the purple packaging at his feet and then to his wife glaring at him across the kitchen table. “What the fuck are these?!? Why the fuck would you have condoms?! Do I repulse you that much?! You don’t even want to be against me? Are you fucking her still?!” Tears starting to streak down her face as he stood completely immobile. “Did you fuck her in our bed?” “No-“ “How many other people have you fucked whilst we’ve been together? Are you still messing around behind my back? Oh my God, I’m so stupid!” “No.” He sighed in desperation as y/n turned with a frustrated groan towards the door. “Get out.” “No!” In just three strides he was blocking her exit door with his body, hands holding her shoulder as he looked into her eyes. “I didn’t know if you’d want to use them. I was just prepared for every situation.” “Oh really?!? Where the fuck has the first strip gone, Brian? You cheating fucking cunt. Get out of my way.” He held her fast as she tried to squirm from his grip. “I have three sons. Two are teenagers. I watched my best friend waste away and die because he caught something, and I would have a million hideously awkward conversations to make sure they know that no one’s going to panic or berate them for having contraception. I asked their brother to just say that they were there, just in case.” “Where?” Y/n challenged him as the revelation shook her to the core. She couldn’t fully trust her husband yet, but she wanted to believe him but the horror of her babies becoming men was a thought she could not comprehend. “Boys bathroom cabinet. Behind all that crap they put in their hair.” Their eyes remained locked as she searched his for any hint of lies. “Go look if you don’t believe me.” Y/n knew she shouldn’t, it went against everything their therapist and friends would advise but she still found her legs moving her quickly up the stairs and into the bathroom. It was always disgusting with wet towels on every inch of floor but all her eyes, still shivering with anxious tears, could focus on was that horrible mirrored cupboard. In the left-hand lower corner was a jammed section of products all half covered in their contents in a vague attempt to hide the glinting purple behind them. He wasn’t lying. Y/n let out a heavy sigh from a caught breath as her eyes closed in humiliation to how stupid and quick to assume she’d become. Another fleet of autopilot had her legs walking back downstairs. “I couldn’t sit back and, they’re not by the way, but… if they did, god forbid, catch something or got some girl pregnant. I’d barely be able to live with myself. You always thought they were too young, so we just kept it between us four. I’m sorry. It was my mistake to lie by omission.” Y/n turned to see Brian lent against the door frame, his forehead was tense but he had that look in his eye when he was being open and truthful, even if it hurt. He didn’t speak about his son’s namesake, Freddie’s illness almost ever, and y/n trusted he’d never use his friends passing as an excuse. “I’m so sorry.” Y/n slammed her body into his with her arms instantly locking around his neck to keep their embrace. The force took them both back a step into the kitchen.  “I should have thought. I saw the other things in that draw and I put two and two together and got four million. I’m so stupid.” Brian stroked along her hair. It may not be what he’d thought would happen and far from perfect, but he still wanted to try and earn her trust. “No, you’re not, y/n.” His stubble scratched y/n’s forehead as she rocked on her tiptoes trying to be close to Brian’s height. “Shall we write this one down to experience and move on?” Y/n nodded as he squeezed her body with a comforting rock. “How can you be so calm and forgiving all the time, Bri?” “The same way you can; we love each other. I want to be with you.” “I will learn how to trust you again. Until that happens, if we can’t be normal for a while, we can, at least, be a stable relationship. Stability to start with. Build up.” She whispered. A statement made just as much for herself as her husband. Brian held her hand as they walked silently back into their kitchen as he tried to hold a routine domestic conversation about changing the colour of the dining room as they sipped their tea sitting next to each other at the kitchen table. “There’s another in the pot if you want it?” Brian refilled his own with the steaming cup between his fingers. “Finally going to send me to sleep, I hope. Might watch a bit of tv to try and bore myself to into napping until morning.” “Will you take me outside to look at the stars? Use your fancy space vocabulary and romance me like when we were young.” he could tell his wife wasn’t happy, the way her bare foot tapped on the titles with a small slap and the words she did say, rushed from her mouth. However, he’d still do anything to make her happy; if it was possible, he’d find a way to do it. Wordlessly, Brian stood up, holding out his hand for y/n to take. “You have no clue how happy you saying that has made me.” “Promise?” It was barely a whisper as she slipped her hand into his much larger one. “Promise.” He brought her fingers to his lips to seal that promise. Brian pushed his feet into those horrible clogged shoes he insisted on wearing that made him even taller. The next thing on her list was almost certainly to try and buy him some more trainers or something he could slip on and off that wasn’t those bloody awful shoes; god forbid anyone ever introduced him to gardening crocs. “Footwear?” Brian asked, stopping on the patio step as his wife made no attempt to cover her bare feet or grab anything warm. “Jumper? Trousers? Anything?” Y/n shook her head with a low snicker, grabbing two thick blankets and folding them over her arm instead. “You can keep me warm, hot stuff.”  Brian rolled his eyes as y/n pressed herself along his side. “Cheeky lady. One second,” Taking the blankets in one hand, tea in the other, he jogged as quickly as the fast shuffle of his feet would allow with his shoes dragging to place his tea down on the small table next to the hanging bench just on the start of the grass lawn. She didn’t know quite what he had in mind but the way his eyes lit up in the harsh light was utterly beautiful. He wore happiness the best of anyone she’d ever met. “Right, Mrs.” Brian pulled one of his wife’s arms around his neck and then bent his long limbs as one arm circled her torso and the other another the scooped her body from under her knees. Y/n couldn’t hold in her joy filled laughter as strong arms almost effortlessly lifted her bridal style towards the swing. “Was this what you had in mind?” Brian smirked as she attempted to pull the silky gown down in the breeze and his warm hands held tightly onto her thigh. “Not exactly. This is quite a lot better however.” “So, I shouldn’t just drop you then.” Y/n squealed as he threw her slightly in the air just enough to jolt her body and drag her nails across his neck. “Shouldn’t pretend drop you.” They continued with spirited screams and Brian tickling along her covered sides in complete control of his lover dragging every step out to take his time. Her laugh was his favourite record that was rediscovered years after he thought he lost it. “Okay- Okay- stopppppp!” Y/n wiped away a tear of laughter from her cheek.  They were acting like love dumb teenagers, but they took full and intense pleasure in every laugh, touch or jovial squeal. “Brian Harold May, put me down nicely!” Her husband was never one to follow instructions to the letter so instead sat down with his wife still in his lap with her exposed legs laying out against the cool wood. “I love you.” “I love you more.” His hand crept up her thigh but only to caress the soft skin lovingly as he gazed into the night sky and she into his eyes with a thousand tiny reflections of stars. “I am sorry about that whole thing in the kitchen… It was foolish to react like that.” Brian placed a hand over her knee, rubbing the tension away with his delicate touch before moving it silently to cover her hand. “It’s okay. It’s something we can work on. Be ridiculous to not imagine little blips along the way… I’m sorry that upstairs was rough. I didn’t want it to be like that. I just… I sort of had a vision of just worshipping you and it being incredibly romantic and loving; candles and massages. The whole nine yards. Possibly a little bit of forward planning in the way of ‘tonight is the night’. However, I’ve always loved your spontaneous streak and it’s a treasure when you finally let it out. I can��t say it wasn’t incredibly satisfying to be taken with you on that wave.” Brian raises his beverage to just below his lips, pressing into his chin. “I’m also sorry about the love bite on your neck.” Y/n slapped her husband’s chest as she saw his smirk barely hidden behind his cup. “You are not sorry. You loved doing that… However, I will admit I had purchased some lingerie I knew you’d love. When I got this robe actually. Reminded me of the old you bought me from Japan when we first dated. I loved how nice and fancy that felt on my skin. I wasn’t exactly very fancy when we met.” They both in unison allowed the silk seams to run through their fingertips. “So, your initial plan was to spend hours kissing my every inch and if that didn’t work lube and a vibrator?” “Not exactly…” Brian blushed. “I just wanted you to have a nice time and feel really good. I didn’t care how you got there, how involved I would be, so long as you wanted me close in those moments or just moving onto other activities.” He glanced down to y/n, with her pouting bottom lip at his thoughtfulness behind such a simple act. However, as soon as she saw that cheeky expression take over his face, she knew something more was coming. “There’s also an exquisite glass dildo in that draw that you missed. It’s meant to reflect rainbow prisms on your thighs when the light hits it just perfectly.” “Brian!” Y/n gasped, her cheeks instantly burning from the rising blush. “Honestly, the worlds opened up for me now you can get that variety of item delivered to the door.” “You’re so smug.” “I’m sorry but, are you complaining that I want to give you a thousand orgasms every which way I can?” With another roll of her eyes and hands gently cupping his cheek, she pressed their lips together in a lingering kiss. “Talk to me about the stars, horn dog.” “What do you want to know?” He replied and relaxed his neck onto the curve of the bench back and started to gently rock the swing with his leg. “What’s zodiacal dust? What star is the Big Dipper?” “Well it’s a constellation to start with…” Brian launched into his well-rehearsed speech about almost everything he knew about space dust, planets and the stars, pointing every so often to a particular cluster in the sky and naming whatever intricacies they held and only stopping to sip at his rapidly cooling beverage. She just loved to hear him talk about his passions even if she’d consider herself a rival in knowledge after all these years of hanging off his every word. Her painted nails would occasionally scratch his stubble or break his tempo with a stolen kiss. “Anything else you feel the pressing need to know?” Y/n giggled mischievously as a response jumped into her mind. “Ermmmm… have you ever had sex under the stars?” Brian’s lips fought the curl of a youthful smile as he gave a mocked ponderous sigh with the nape of his neck burning red under her gentle massage. “I believe you were present in that particular instance. God bless that hot summer.” He couldn’t help but bite into his lip as almost lost memories flooded his mind. “Apart from that, no, I have not partaken in such an activity.” Hazel eyes dared to meet his wife’s. “Have you?” “Once again, have never had the opportunity arise before to partake in such an activity. Nor anyone else I wanted to. I do remember it being very romantic though… Worshiped by your lover whist star gazing… If only I knew a sexy astronomer who could take me in his big and, incredibly private, garden which he loves because the lack of neighbours means lack of light so his views of the night sky are uninterrupted…Maybe one with a really, really big… knowledge of the universe.” Now it was Brian’s turn to roll his eyes. “You want to have sex in the garden?” He scoffed. “We’re meant to have grown up out of this behaviour.” “Well yeah, I didn’t bring two blankets out in hopes of one for me and one for you.” “I mean… why not?” Brian assumed this was just some silly game to tease him later. Either he’d agree and she’d mock him for entertaining such a ludicrous joke or call him a prude. “Take those bloody clogs off first though. Not a turn on, I’m afraid.” Dramatically, he flung the horrible, scuffed white footwear high into the air as they landed in two separate spots on the manicured lawn.   “Better?” Y/n pulled Brian into a kiss and almost instantly began to deepen it by sucking his lower lip and then softly biting with a moan when his fingers squeezed her flesh. Her fingers deftly working around the hem of his sweatshirt. “Were you not kidding about this?” She shook her head and began to work her lips over his jaw. “Oh…” Brian moaned as she nipped his pulse point with a large palm dancing up to cup her bum. It was messy and giggly as she pulled him to stand, their height difference amplified as Brian’s regal neck bent to chase her kisses when she moved to pull away. She walked backwards with a beckoning finger till she was further into their garden but nowhere near the thick coverage of trees. Y/n laid out the thickest blanket on the ground, it would keep the falling dew and creeping cold from her back at least. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? What if someone sees?” His wife gave no real or valid response instead dropping the silk robe down with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. It revealed the tops of her breasts, nipples slightly outlined from the evening chill and the neckline now sat halfway down her biceps. “Let them look?” She feigned pulling the robe apart.   “Okay your spontaneous streak is reverting back to about twenty-four.” Brian quickly wrapped his lover into an encompassing hug with a thinly veiled attempt to cover what should be for his eyes only. “Don’t remember you complaining last time or when we fucked across your studio desk.” She said teasingly. “Firstly, last time was one off. Secondly, that was indoors and a soundproofed room.” “It was three thirty in the afternoon and you recorded it.” Brian gave her his own proud but equally disgusted in himself smirk and flick of his eyebrows. “No one can see in. Come on… Make love to me.” Brian sighed, looking around nervously once more. He knew she was right; it had been his intention to make sure their home was fully private. Ensure it was somewhere they could be a normal family without press cameras pointing over hedges or people who wanted to peek over the fence expecting to be able to see some drug fuelled orgy. He lent down, kissing his wife with an elongated moan as large hands roamed the silk once. That was one of y/n favourite things about her husband; she loved his height and his big hands. Brian was quite soft and gentle in his speech and general demeanour, but he excluded a masculinity like no other man she met. One raise of his voice could shock her back down to earth and feeling the lithe muscles that held so much force and power ripple under her touch drove her wild. He’d protect her like no other, vicious in his attack. Yet, he was not one to hold his feelings or refuse admit his mistakes; it had saved his arse so many times, but it was his most endearing quality. “Oh!” Y/n gasped quickly as she brushed his shoulders before dipping her hand into the neck of his jumper. She left his lips and began to kiss along his neck as her other hand slipped under the hem of his sweatshirt. Brian’s adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he tried to hold in a moan when she nipped at the nape of his neck. Her hand was cold against the burning skin of his chest as she caused shivers to run down his spine. Brian cupped y/n’s face as he claimed her kisses once more, his body pressed harder to hers and took a dominant position with his feet either side of hers. “Brian…?” Y/n stepped slightly back from her husband as she broke their kisses. “Did you really think I’d fuck in the garden?” Y/n’s jaw dropped, and her eyes went playfully wide as she gave a hearty laugh. “You… I knew you were up to something! Right, that’s it!” Y/n knew what that meant and set off running along the damp grass with a jovial laugh following behind her. Brian too was chasing her but if he actually wanted to catch her it wouldn’t take much. She darted around, trying her best to elude him as fingertips would sometimes pass over his wife. “You’re such a cheeky little thing! You’re going to pay for this!” “No! I’m sorry! Truce!” She slipped on the damp grass, knees landing hard and with hands outstretched and a breathless laugh from the combination of spirting and laughing. “Truce! Please! Take mercy on your wife!” “Never!” His body crashed around hers somehow wrestling her squirming body onto his shoulder and back onto his feet. “Put me downnnnn!” y/n whined and banged her fists ever so softly against his lower back. The amount she’d missed even these physical moments was incredible. Had someone asked just twenty-four hours ago if they were a playful couple she would have answered with ‘only when we first got together. Admittedly children had slowed that down, but they’d always played around together. In the kitchen some lazy Sunday mornings whilst she was busy dancing to the radio and making pancakes, Brian would usually indulge himself by watching for a few minutes until she’d turn and bashfully pop one leg at the knee, hands locked together on her hip and grin. It would always end up with various sticky creams and jams over the surfaces, in their hair, and fingers covered from smearing across their lovers exposed skin. Brian’s wrists would soon be captured in her hands, the sweet tastes on each other’s lips as they’d whisper silly affectionate phrases. Brian sank to his knees on the blanket, throwing her carefully to her back, landing with splayed arms and a smirk on her lips. Y/n spread her legs around and across her husband’s thighs. “Truce?” She asked, holding out her hand for him to shake. “No.” A rapid shake of his head with a scrunch of his nose and even faster her fingers where digging tickles into his soft sides. Despite his body squirming from her sharp fingers, Brian managed to grab a hold of one of her wrists but her right repeatedly slipped through his hold, in part, due to the silky material. His thumb would surely leave a bruise on the captured wrist, but he’d gladly kiss it better and she could wear a small mark of normalcy; more than normalcy. A mark of happiness and hope. “I would like to accept your truce.” As the words left his mouth, Brian finally ceased her wrist and dragged the digits from his oblique muscle. “Ha-ha! Captured.” Brian’s weight shifted forward pushing her wrists to the ground. Biting into the side of his lower lip and shooting his eyebrows upwards a self-satisfied air fell around them. “So, quite the predicament you find yourself in, y/n…” Y/n shook her head at her husband, leaning up to kiss him but not quite reaching. He looks so perfect with his hair darkened in the night and aquiline features beautifully framed with the small pockets of light. “Not falling for your tricks again, Mrs.” “I mean it’s been a while. I had hope you’d want to kiss me just enough to get my own back.” Brian pushed his hips further onto y/n’s, essentially locking them to the ground as he adjusted each finger on her wrists and lent down to place the most chaste kiss on her lips he could. It was such a simple kiss, yet it left her breathless and chasing his mouth as soon as she felt the pressure float away. “Just kiss me again.” She whispered and wrapped her legs around his hips to hold him close with a gentle sway when they connected again. It just felt incredibly magical, like at any point a spell could lift. And yet here they were, making out like teenagers outdoors. Their kisses deepened but only with passionate and love. Brian released one of her wrists as his mind began to swim so cupped her cheek lovingly with a wanton moan. When he pulled away once more his eyes sparkling in adoration for his wife, perfectly mirroring the starlit sky above him. “I’m just so happy to be with you.” His smile was undeniably honest as he tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I’ve missed you more than I care to admit.” y/n whispered back in turn. “Promise you won’t suddenly hate me when you wake up?” He joked with a hazy smile that spread mainly from his caramel eyes and the small lines appearing around them. “Only if dream you does something unforgivable…” Y/n words hung stagnant between them and Brian’s eyes changed to slightly pained or nervous. She’d known him long enough to know it wasn’t a good sign, he’d could quickly get stuck in his own head and the prolonged emotional absence could last for days. “… like watch a series finale without me or something truly heinous. Don’t do that and you should be okay.” Brian rolled his eyes, his wife bringing him towards her with an encouraging pull on his neck for a kiss. It was slow and languid, matching the sway of their hips. The robe had managed to stay tied but much of her left breast was exposed, her nipple just uncovered as the fabric caressed the curve already stiff from the cool breeze. Brian’s eyes trailed over his wife’s chest bashfully; hope of saying something quick witted or sweet evaporating away as his head dropped and slender nose pushed away the covering silk. Warm lips enclosed around her hardened nipple; his eyes closed as his tongue flicked expertly over her. Y/n kept her eyes firmly on her husband, her face turning from satisfied and relaxed to an unbridled whimper within a split second. “Brian!” She gasped his name so sweetly as he hummed and sucked the bud deeper into his hot mouth and his tongue somehow stimulated her to be even harder. Y/n bucked her hips unexpectedly into his, only making Brian lower more of his body against hers and rub the smooth silk covering her other breast. “We shouldn’t. What if someone- oh god!” Her words turned into a needy whine when teeth scraped along the sensitive flesh and made her head fall back into the blanket as one hand tangled into Brian’s damp curls. “Jesus, Bri, what if someone sees?” No answer came just a gentle hum as he sucked her nipple and raised his head until the flesh fell away from his lips. “They won’t.” His voice deep and gravelly in these moments, just loud enough for her to hear. Kisses were pressed to her exposed sternum until he met the deep V of the neckline, slowly, Brian’s hips slid off hers, but his torso remained covering her stomach. Large hands cupped her waist through the silk and his thighs pushed under hers with his knees bent and folded under him. “What are you doing?” Y/n gasped as Brian lightly pushed her upwards and moved her still wet bud between his lips. The long index finger of his left hand slowly hooking between the gown and the knot keeping it secure. “Worshipping you.” He said quietly between wet kisses to her sensitive breasts. “Under the stars.” “Baby… we can’t… not outside…” her eyes tightened as Brian’s nose ran along the fabric and nuzzled his way under the silk at her stomach. His tongue played around her hip bone as her grip tightened, keeping him in place and betraying the words she spoke. “We’ve already done it… you’ve already- oh- made me…” Brian kissed the small marks his hands had left earlier. “I just want you to relax and know how much you mean to me.” “I know what I mean to you, you’re being silly.” Y/n cupped Brian’s cheek as he continued to gently kiss her stomach. “Physically though. That you do something different too me. I’ve missed your body, your whimpers, the way you say my name… I missed it… I need it. I just want to make love to you. Revisit the past a little in the garden…” A confident smirk came across his mouth, winking to try and cover his bared emotions. Y/n sat up with a smile and a roll of her eyes hooking a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him for a kiss. Brian’s hand swept under her buttocks and encouraged her into his lap as he crossed his long legs. Brian’s bottom lip popped out, perfect hazel eyes glistening with puppy dog energy. It was irresistible. Fingertips played over his jaw as Brian dared to steal another kiss. It wasn’t old time, but the passion still burned for them both, reigniting within them time after time in the last few hours. - shiver ran down her spine as the heat of Brian’s chest only made her back feel colder. “Told you to wear clothes.” Brian reached out for the blanket that was abandoned nearby before draping it around her shoulders. “Where were we?” Y/n rolled her eyes once more with a shake of her head, arms stretching back around his shoulders enveloping them both in the soft fleece. Brian’s mind swirled as he snuck multiple kisses from his wife; he knew he was addicted to her lips, but he had idea how much he truly was. A deft finger hooked behind the loosened knot and tugged it apart. “I’m just keeping you warm.” Brian pursed his lips, but his eyes were sparkling pools of caramel. “Just innocently helping my wife.” “If it was innocent, you’d have your top off. That’s how you share body heat.” Two hands slipped into the collar of Brian’s sweatshirt in pure mischief. “Maybe the house would be warmer than.” “Maybe you should try harder.” Y/n challenged Brian with her fingers tickling his shoulders. ”I’m content to be a little chilly if you make some effort.” “I feel like this is you trying to trick me again… or just use me for my body.” “No, tricks. Just us.” Soft kisses pressed to each other’s mouth, nuzzling and holding each other as the air around them finally seemed to start warming up. His hands moved to from her hips to encircle her in a hug, pressing them together. “You still have that fancy lingerie to show me.” He smiled mischievously “So, Sir, you’d like me go inside and put on clothing so you can take it off.” Brian pursued his lips and drummed the fingers of his left hand against her skin. “No, I don’t think I do. Can I place it on a rain check though?” “Save that for another day? I’ve already got it planned in my mind. Getting an empty house, massage oil and candles and really treating you after a long day.” She giggled as her hands moved down Brian’s chest to the hem of his sweatshirt. “Come on. Get naked with me…” Brian sighed, relenting as he tugged off the jersey but was instantaneously rewarded with his wife’s arms holding the black cover around them both and giggling kisses nuzzled into his neck. Y/n pushed herself harder into his lap, moaning in just the way that always made him melt and do exactly what she wanted. Brian, however, knew her tricks and though eventually she’d get whatever she wanted, he could have some fun teasing aswell and began to softly thumb her nipples once more. “Oh fuck…” y/n biting into his neck unexpectedly. “Maybe we should go inside…?” Y/n didn’t wait for an answer as she stood up, extending a hand out for her husband and leaving everything but themselves and the blanket around her shoulders outdoors. She practically threw herself through the patio doors and into the living room, the dressing soon gone and her back into the cushions of their couch with the blanket under her. Brian clicking the door locked and kicking his reading light to the dullest setting. He simply couldn’t miss the chance to have his wife in sight again. Pausing with a gasp, admiring her body on full display for his eyes only. “You’re beautiful, Y/n.” Chilled skin soon landed on top of her own with Brian between her legs, kisses against her lips as they continued as if nothing had changed. His fingers slid between y/n’s legs causing her breath to catch at the cool feeling at her burning heat. “Oh…!” She pushed her wetness against him with nails scraping along his exposed shoulders. “Your hands are cold.” “They’ll warm up.” he whispered as he slipped his middle and index inside and began to motion back and forth against her front wall. Her body instantly reacted with a loud moan and her toes curling into the muscles of his covered calf. “Too much?” Brian whispered as his wife bit into her lip with a shake of her head. Her fingers pushing into the elasticated band of his pants. “I want you inside me again.” Y/n moaned with a voice dipped in tantalising desire. “Please, Bri?” It was too much to bear and physical actions took the place of any words. Kisses became passionate. Brian shifted himself with her hands delicately pushing his clothing down just enough to pull his erection free as he worked them down his legs. Y/n jerked his already hard member just a few times before beginning to moan into his mouth as she ran the warm tip though her wet folds. It was incredible to feel their bodies completely together. His hand gently supporting her head as they kissed and y/n’s fingertips digging into his cheek with an encouragement for his cock throbbing at her entrance. The soft palm around his shaft slipped over his hip as he pressed slowly inside. Every small amount of him that was taken inside felt white hot and almost as if they were made singularly for each other. Brian didn’t give her much time to accommodate; his thrusts long and languid as he made love with his wife. Y/n tilting her hips in rhythm to take as much as she could. “I love you…” She moaned hotly against his mouth. “I love you too, y/n.” His hips were snapping into hers more and more. Bodies bouncing as they collided together. She clawed at his back, leaving pink lines in his creamy skin as she felt the ever-tightening knot suddenly begging to form in her stomach. They rarely used this position but tonight it was perfect. His pubic bone pressing her clit with every thrust as Brian’s mouth moved to bury himself in her neck. “Oh god… just there… don’t stop… Please don’t-“ She was silenced by a crashing kiss. Brian keened against her lips, moving his weight to his hands at either side of her body. “I’m with you…” They both came undone within moments. Neither could tell if her muscles spasming around him or his cock deeply buried inside her with twitches rubbing her clitoris caused their respective orgasms, but it was utterly perfect. They gripped each other throughout, moaning and gasping only loud enough for their lovers’ ears. Brian’s wiry arm shook as he held himself with hooded eyes over her whilst the last ebbs of his orgasm ran down his legs and up his spine. Y/n recovering quietly panting as she sat up to fully press their bodies together with her legs tangling around his. “Thank you…” she whispered, kissing Brian’s cheek before encouraging his body to lay with hers under him and allowing his softening cock to slip from her with both groaning at the loss. “You feel so strong and big around me like this.” Their skin was tacky as they kept themselves as pressed together as possible. His forehead slowly fell to rest on hers, the tip of his nose nudging her cheek as he licked his lips; dry from the cold outdoor air and his panting and whimpering throughout. “I love you, darling. I love you so much.” She knew he was vulnerable, knew how much they’d both gone through in recent hours and even months. Softly she stroked the scratched areas of his back. “We should get cleaned up and really for bed. Our bed. You and I, I want to have your arms around me all night.” Y/n rolled her body from underneath his. Brian rolled onto his back, one hand covering his eyes as his chest heaved, still having trouble with catching his breath. Quietly, y/n cleaned up in the bathroom downstairs, rinsing her mouth with her cool mint wash in there and trying to somehow calm her ‘just fucked’ hair. She hadn’t heard Brian move and could see his mane of curls. “C’mon, big guy. Bedtime.” Y/n lent over the back of the couch and tickled his sensitive sides until Brian groaned. Their eyes met and both softened as he wordlessly began to pull himself from the couch as y/n pulled on the silk of her dressing gown once more. Ever dutiful, Brian trailed behind his wife, locking the door and checking the front, just once more. “What?” He puzzled with a smile as he saw y/n stood midway up the staircase just watching him. “It’s just nice to have my husband back…” she spoke with a small, happy smile. “Locking up the house? That’s what does it for you?” Brian pulled the handle again as the door banged lightly against the frame, his eyebrows playfully wiggling. “Do the washing and you’ll find yourself irresistible.” He jogged the few steps to his wife’s side, her arm around his waist and his across her shoulders. They settled under the sheets of their bed, still crinkled from their earlier exploits. It felt strange to have someone dozing next to her and poor Brian could barely keep his exhausted eyes open as y/n softly kissed his chest and moved her body around his bit his hand held her close along her back. “Goodnight, handsome.” “Goodnight beautiful.” Brian pipped the horn of his car as he drove along Roger’s ostentatiously long driveway. The sun was bright, a burningly hot day, usually would mean the kids would all be lazing around outside as Roger and his wife would sip their coffee in the sun. Tucked in the boot of the car, y/n had already gotten Brian to buy the largest pop up pool the shop had in store for their boys’ summer parties after hearing all about the Taylor’s having their own pool. It wouldn’t be quite as good, but it would do, and they already had arranged for a hot tub to be installed next week. A treat to themselves but mainly Brian just wanting to give his wife the world. “I’ll go around the back. Are you staying?” Brian asked calmly. “Christ, no. Far too hot without the air con.” They let the dog free, the wild thing obviously already sensing the way to her favourite family members as a screech and a blasting splash came into ear. “I knew you were here. That bloody wild dog of yours. You know you shouldn’t adopt the ones they tell you can’t find a home.” Roger joked as he rounded the corner of the house but softened as he saw Brian’s arm draped around his wife for the first time in months. It wasn’t forced. They looked just like themselves, but he could see the happiness literally radiating from both of them. “I know but that’s the pity streak that kept you in the band of all those years.” Brian mocked back before hugging his best friends’ wife and thanking her quietly for sending him home last night.  “We owe you one.” Roger winked to y/n with a discreet nod. “You know it was the name that got me. Maggie May. It made sense at the time.” “Do you want to stay for lunch?” R/w/n asked. “No, Brian’s got a pool to assemble. Thank you though.” He rolled his eyes as Roger let out a chuckle. “How in the world did you get him to agree to that? He’s spent the last twenty years worrying about his bloody grass.” “Ha ha. Very funny.” He rolled his eyes, watching his teenage boys dragging their feet up the stone steps with Rogers own children following behind. “How was the concert?” He got no response but a series of mumbled grunts as they trailed wet bodies inside. Brian wouldn’t change it for the world. “That told me then.” “They do my bloody head in dripping on the floor. It’s fine but I’ve gone flying across the hallway more than once this week already. I don’t understand why they can’t just use towels!” “Mrs Taylor, you are getting grumpy in your old age.” Rogers voice gave a raspy chuckle as the still damp kids appeared with their backpacks and dry clothes. “See you again, micro Brian’s.” “Thanks for last night uncle Rog.” Freddie said, as he hugged his aunt. “Thanks for the chat.” “Go on bugger off, messing up the place with your long legs. Get outta here.” Roger kicking at Harry’s thigh to shove him into walking. The boys had a mini breakdown in the middle of the night when something had come on the radio about their parents, the whole Taylor family had instantly closed around them and comforted the twins as best they could. Harry and Freddie both admitting to each other how much they missed their parents. “Take your bloody wet dog with you! I’ll have to clean that pool now!” “So,” y/n turned in her front seat as the boys got in, damp dog on her cover between them. She started to speak as Brian threw the backpacks in the boot, keeping the pool and the various floats a surprise just for a few more minutes. “Me and daddy were thinking we should all head out to lunch. We’ve got a table outside so Maggie can come.” “Were not little kids. Can’t you just tell us at home if you’re getting a divorce.” Harry had unexpectedly exploded. Brian’s hazel pools flicking to meet his dumbstruck wife’s. “What’s brought this on…” Y/n just about managed to muster. “That’s what the radio said last night. You’d announced and Dad was moving out that night.” Freddie muttered. “That is categorically not true.” Brian spoke up when words had failed y/n. “We respect you far more than to pull a stunt like that.” “Baby boys. We’d never do that to you. Last night, we had a really good chat actually and worked out a lot of things. We wanted to treat you both today because you deserve it.” Harry looked for support from his twin, but Freddie’s own hazel eyes were locked on his clasped hands in his lap. “The corners turned. We’re getting back to normal. I love you both.” Brian hopped in his driver’s seat but turned on his knees to grip one of each of their shoulders. “I love her. We’re a family unit, seven, when you count the big ones.” “Eight.” Harry said just loud enough for everyone to hear. He was fed up of serious conversation after serious conversation. “Can’t leave out Maggie.” “Yeah, dad, why so cruel to Maggie.” “You’re impossible.” Brian gave a laugh, mock choking each of them in turn before driving away, his hand on his wife's knee absentmindedly before her own covered it, as the two boys looked between themselves. “Lunch or no? Your shout?” “Can we visit the music store? I need new strings.” “You’re trying to tell me in our entire house, Harry May, you cannot find one set of guitar strings.” Brian heard his wife chuckle as she rolled her eyes. “Go on then. What about you, Freddie? What’s your plan to milk me of?” “I was thinking about some trainers… I’ve seen these rainbow ones…” he gave a shaking sigh. “I’d like to wear them to pride.” “Can I get a matching pair?” Brian laughed, not quite registering that something more was happening, but the atmosphere thickened again. “I’m gay.” He stated but the words rushed from his mouth as Harry held his breath looking ahead to see their parents’ reactions. “Okay… That doesn’t answer if I can get matching trainers though.” Two sets of caramel eyes meeting in the rear-view mirror. “You don’t care?” Freddie wiped a tear of relief as he felt his mums’ hand over his cheek, fully turned in her seat. “No baby… We love you for you.” “I’ll go to pride with you…” Harry offered his support, working out his brother was gay had taken place months ago but neither had the guts to flat out tell the other. “Me too, if your old mum isn’t too uncool. What do you say? Can we have matching rainbow family trainers.” “I guess so…” Freddie smiled, overjoyed but rolling his eyes at the ludicrous nature of this all.

”I did say this would happen… We did name him Freddie.” Brian smiled with a wink to his family. Brian May looked happy yesterday as he and his wife, Y/n May, took a spot of retail therapy with their twin sons and rescue dog. The family are pictured with a guitar case and multiple bags from a trendy clothing store. Brian kept his wife close as the pair have seemingly put the past behind them as they were pictured together for the first time in months. Our sources said they looked comfortable and content as they shopped around and took in lunch. The rocker happily signed a couple of autographs for staff before they left.

[motherofmymotherreclist]

Forced Bonding

·       The Tie That Binds by leonidaslion (Supernatural, Explicit, 3K, 2011)

o   No one asks Sam what he wants.

o   [Wincest, incest, non-con elements, forced bonding, angst, John is a shitty parent, minimal smut]

o   This is the angsty fucked up version of a forced bonding fic. But I’m trash, so I love it.

·       Necessity by notboldly (Star Trek, Mature, 14K, 2010)

o   When Jim is attacked by a telepathic species, Spock bonds with him to save his life.

o   [slow build, romance, minimal smut, telepathy, empathy, bonding]

o   A classic forced bonding to save your life fic. Focuses on the discomfort of the sudden intimacy and how that brings them together.

·       ♥ ♥ Then You Think Again by leah k (blinkiesays) (Teen Wolf, Mature, 22K, 2012)

o   "You had no idea that it was going to work!" Stiles throws his hands up. Why is Derek the most frustrating werewolf in the history of ever, why is Stiles even helping him, why is this his life?  "Why did they even believe you in the first place?" Derek says, "You reeked of me," which is unfair.  Stiles only smelled because he'd gotten covered in Derek's bodily fluids trying to staunch the bleeding.

o   [bond or die, hags made them do it, bonding, forced intimacy, empathy, useyourwords!Derek, humor, sarcastic!Stiles, UST, pining, werewolf instincts, scent!kink, minimal smut]

o   Another one where Stiles’ voice is on point. Funny and tense with the UST. Forced bonding for the win. Their relationship builds really nice and organically.

·       Here Comes Your Man by hannahrhen (Avengers, Teen-Explicit, 25K, 2013)

o   (Reluctant!Soulmate AU) An unexpected bond forms between Tony Stark and one of his greatest enemies. But not everything before is forgotten, or forgiven.

o   [Tony/Loki, forced intimacy, dub-con, angst, bickering, denial of feelings]

o   This relishes in the awkwardness of forced intimacy as Tony has no understanding or patience for the bond. It’s laid out as a series, but really this should have been chapters of one fic.

·       ♥ ♥ Choices by Kethrua (Dresden Files, Mature, 28K, 2011)

o   In an AU to Changes, Harry sold himself to John Marcone instead of Mab. They both take a while to adjust to this. Written for the Kinkmeme, for a prompt requesting both serious treatment of the issues and smut. Contains non-explicit reference to past child abuse and rape.

o   [bonding, dubcon, magic, power imbalance, healing, hurt comfort, smut, trust issues]

o   I love this fic so much. It has perfect pacing and character development. The love and growing trust between the characters is so obvious and yet understated.

·       A Shove Towards Love  by General_Button (Voltron, Teen, 31K, 2016)

o   A simple rescue mission turns into chaos when the species on the planet Novaria take an interest in the lives of two of its paladins.

o   [Klance, meddling aliens, aliens made them do it, but there’s no smut, bickering, pining, mind meld, forced proximity, soul bond]

o   This is great example of the trope. Keith and Lance are somehow both pining and acting like they can’t stand each other at the same time, and you just want to smack them, until you don’t.

·       ♥  Debt of Honor by Brianna Falken (Star Trek, NC-17, 33K, 2009)

o   Six months after being taken prisoner and raped by a Vulcan captain, Kirk finds that same Vulcan is now being assigned as his first officer when peace between Vulcan and Earth is declared. Originally published in the print fanzine Beyond Dreams 7 (2004)

o   [Non-con, non-reform Vulcan, super angst, rape recovery, healing, bonding, slow build]

o   This starts with a pretty graphic rape scene so please take care of yourself, but if that isn't your trigger or you can get past the non-con, this is a lovely story about forgiveness and healing. It’s actually one of my favorite star trek fics, something about the characterization both breaks my heart and gives me all the feelz. Literally the definition of a fandom classic since it came out of a fanzine.

·       Defendere by Lomonaaeren (Harry Potter, Mature, 37K, 2012)

o   When Harry stumbles into a magical ritual meant to enslave Draco, he manages to create a bond that leaves Draco with some free will. And the ability to irritate Harry in the name of "guarding" him.

o   [Drarry, forced soul bond, dub con, lots of consent issues, free will issues, slow build, pining, UST, angst, forced intimacy]

o   This one felt weird because of all the consent issues, but it does deep dive into the forced bonding and intimacy, and it’s well written. I’m just not sure I think this relationship is actually healthy, but it’s fanfic so, ehhh. The author does address the consent issues, don’t get me wrong, I just couldn’t 100% believe that they were solved.

·       Unexpected Consequences by lauren3210 (Harry Potter, Explicit, 39K, 2015)

o   Harry was going back to school. He was going to play Quidditch, sleep in lessons, hang out with his friends, and generally just enjoy being a kid for a change. And he was also going to do it while being bonded with Malfoy, because apparently life was just going to continue throwing curveballs at him. Harry didn't know why he expected anything different.

o   [Drarry, slavery sort of, consent issues, slow build, healing, enemies to friends to lovers, trust issues, magic, bullying]

o   Draco is completely in Harry’s power and must learn to trust his jailor. It’s very good. One of those classic Drarry fics IMO. It’s what Defendere could have been.

·       ♥ Present  by reillyblack (Teen Wolf, Explicit, 112K, 2018)

o   When Stiles's best friend Scott presented as a werewolf, it was just the worst. Worst by far was that it meant Scott had to leave immediately to live with the werewolf pack in the mountains -- which no one knew anything about. Stiles couldn't even visit, so he only got to see Scott once a month when he came back to visit his mom. It sucked. A year later, he presents too.

o   [world building, ABO dynamics, werewolf dynamics, scent kink, inventive werewolf world, like—super inventive, soul mates, Oblivious!Derek, plot, smut, UST, pack dynamics, pack bonding, BAMF!Stiles, Stiles doesn’t take shit from anyone]

o   As you can tell from my tags, this fic has precious and wonderful world building. I absolutely adored it. It’s everything you could want from werewolves. It’s also well plotted and fun as hell.

·       Rare Merchandise by CateAdams (Star Trek, Explicit, 120K, 2015)

o   Jim and Spock are kidnapped by Orion slavers during a diplomatic mission, transported to a location outside of Federation space and sold to a mysterious woman who commands an entire world. Once there, they are forced to participate in her terrifying agenda: their friendship used against them and their strength brutally tested. Can they survive and escape, or will they be used to bring down the Federation itself?

o   [For want of a nail, angst, action, Non-con elements, character torture, forced bonding, mind meld shenanigans.]

o   This is a very action oriented fic that will keep you reading late just make sure everyone lives through it. It has some mind rape elements though, so be careful there.

·       ♥♥  other things the road to hell is paved with by LuciaZephyr (Dresden Files, Explicit, 138K, 2011)

o   Book One of the Matter of Chicago series. Diverges from the canon plotline from Fool Moon, chapter 23, running on the idea of Marcone not holding the Idiot Ball and thus getting Harry to sign his contract. Very slow burn romance. Essentially an AU take of the entire series.

o   [slow burn, deliciously slow burn, magic, power imbalance, magical contract, Oblivious!Harry, manipulative!Marcone, trust issues, plot]

o   This is one of those perfect fics. I don’t know what else to say; look up a summary of the Dresden Files and then read this if you haven’t read the books. It’s better than the source material. The bond is more an oath of fealty/obedience than the more traditional telepathy or empathy version.

·       Human is Just a Word by lady emebalia (emebalia) (Teen Wolf, Explicit, 173K, 2017)

o   Getting claimed by a werewolf has so not been on Stiles' agenda for the night. But at least he can choose whose human pet he's going to be. That's a plus, right?

o   [fuck or die, forced bonding, so much angst, slow build, pack dynamics, werewolves are known, BAMF!Stiles, scent kink, forced intimacy]

o   This has a lot of similar qualities to Present, so if you liked that, then you’ll probably like this too. It has a different concept of the intimacy of wolves and enough drama/tension to burst a blood vessel.

·       Bond by Anna Fugazzi (Harry Potter, Mature, 204K, 2006)

o   Yet another one of those Harry and Draco Are Forced To Be Together By Something Beyond Their Control And Then Stuff Happens Leading To Twoo Wuv stories.

o   [Drarry, fandom classic, fuck or die, UST, pining, smut, they eventually fuck like rabbits, magic compulsion, bonding, mystery, angst, loss of virginity]

o   This is the OG best of the best of Drarry bonding fics. If you haven’t read it and you like either Drarry or the bonding trope, then what even are you?

·       ♥♥ The Saffron Soul by BeautifulFiction_FMA (Fullmetal Alchemist, Explicit, 267K, 2010)

o   When a serial killer blurs the lines of alchemy in an effort to seal two souls together, Ed finds himself under suspicion from the police. Can he prove he is innocent, or are he & Roy doomed to suffer the consequences of the killer's ideals?

o   [RoyEd, BAMF!Edward, BAMF!Roy, murder mystery, action, adventure, dream sharing, empathy, plot, smut, slow burn]

o   This is one of my favorite fics of all time. I’ve reread it countless times. The characterization is amazing, the plot engaging, and the writing wonderful. All of her FMA works are great but this is the masterpiece.

[the-vorkosigan]

Stony post-cw fix-its recs (MCU mainly)

Since I didn’t have the time to actually create anything for the 10th Anni of Stony, this rec list is my pseudo-contribution.

Since I don’t know how to make it a part of the event otherwise (sorry!), I’m just going to tag @cap-ironman

For more recs, check out this post by @civilwarbrokemyheart. I’m not going to repeat the recs that are already there.

This is in no particular order, and the fics are loosely grouped by absolutely arbitrary criteria :)

Mind the ratings, I guess.

Enjoy!

Romantic, Sweet and/or Funny

Can’t start a fire without a spark by @gottalovev

The Avengers might be reunited, but they are holding together with a Band-Aid and a severe case of Tony pretending nothing happened. The superficial truce is shattered the day Steve takes control of Tony's suit and forces him to go to medical in a tense situation. When Tony is ordered to take a vacation, Steve volunteers to go with him.

one-shot, 36k words

vorkosigan: It’s a roadtrip fic! Steve and Tony go shopping unexpectedly! Tony sings karaoke in a roadside motel! There is also a threesome with an OFC, but it just serves to bring T and S closer together, honestly. The sex scenes are brilliant and detailed, everything else is sweet and wonderful and there is pining :) Mainly Steve PoV as far as I remember. 

You’ve Been Sleeping in the Wild by skyline 

With a pint-sized sneaker dangling somewhere near his nose, and another jabbed into his collar bone, Tony takes out the phone Steve gave him.

Nearly punching the buttons, he types, Vision made my kitchen smell like Staten Island and Clint’s kid is nesting on my face. I need you to stop being a child and come home.

(Or, Tony abuses the bat phone.)

one-shot, 4k words,

vorkosigan: Fucking hilarious! Also v. sweet. Also, informative regarding the workings of the UN, but it doesn’t detract from the story. Just... too funny for words.

Evidence of Things Unsaid by @sheronm (whom I apparently can’t tag for some reason??)

The Avengers (and ex-Avengers) are forced to socialize at a PR event. Why is there never a monster around to attack New York when you need one?

one-shot, 4k words

vorkosigan: Tony cuts his hand and Steve fusses over him. Romantic and sweet, somewhat melancholic, very carefully written and mindful of all the tiny little details I like to see in fic. There’s handholding that melts my heart every time.

I Hope You Have Unlimited Text Messaging by Misscar

:For the first time in their entire acquaintance, Tony and Steve start having really honest conversations with each other via text message, of course.

Or Tony and Steve try to repair their relationship before the next apocalypse. This may take a while. Actually, battling blue and/or purple aliens would be preferable to working through their feelings.

WIP, 52 chapters, 65k words

vorkosigan: My fav texting fic. Occasionally really hilarious, occasionally a bit angsty, but mainly sweet. It’s updated all the time. Also works really well when read in installments. Taking into account politics and world events. I mean, it’s texting, but there’s outward plot too. Tony and Steve are acting really maturely here.

Plotsy

A World Apart by @dapperanachronism

The accords are in pieces, the team is scattered and divided, Steve is in hiding, Tony is trying to move on, and both are left trying to pick up the pieces of what little remains. But the threats that drew them all together in the first place are still out there, and picking up the pieces means finding themselves pulled back together whether they're ready for it or not.

chaptered, completed, 49k words

vorkosigan: Deals with law, politics and things. Then gets really REALLY feelsy towards the end. There’s action too. There’s EVERYTHING. Tony is really angry but at one point gets REALLY worried for Steve (his Steve, whom he loves! <3).

Time travel and interdimensional hopping (because they deserve a category!)

The Breach by Chaylay23

After the war, the remaining Avengers have to rebuild the team and their headquarters. A new armored superhero shows up to help.

chaptered, 76k words, finished

vorkosigan: A multitude of interdimensional Steves! Natasha Stark is a good bro to Tony! Dimension hopping! Plot! Pining! Really, really pining (MCU Steve, I’m looking at you). Hurt!Steve. It’s wonderful!

A New Way For Us by ann2who ( @stark-spangled-lovers )

They fight Thanos—and they’re losing. And before Tony knows what’s happening, he’s standing with Doctor Strange in front of the Eye of Agamotto and gets send back in time. Can he find a way to fix things this time around, or are they doomed to fall apart all over again?

chaptered, finished, 24k words

vorkosigan: Tones returns to the past, to his pre-Ultron body, but keeps his memories. Does things differently. Gets really close with Steve, for one. LOTS of very sweet Stony moments. Real focus on development of the relationship. Not too heavy on angst (as these things go).

Oh, the ANGST

No Amount of Guilt (can change the past) by kiminsocks

Tony's in town for an Accords conference. Steve is in town to make sure nothing happens at that conference. They meet in a bar, and it's a second chance for first impressions.

one-shot, 6k words

vorkosigan: Steve wears a different face, and it’s post-CW identity porn. I’ve read it only, oh, half a million times. It’s the saddest and the gentlest, and ends on a really hopeful note.

Last Train Home by @erdesque

Steve writes letters to Tony that he never sends. By the time he hands them to their rightful owner, Tony has had a brush with death, has retired as a superhero, and now has a small town workshop of his very own. But it's okay, Steve has gone into retirement too.

one-shot, 11k words

vorkosigan: It’s rolling-on-the-floor-clutching-stomach type of angst. Steve’s pining is palpable. The getting together is BEAUTIFUL and super-romantic. The ending is sweet as can be.

Bring Him Home by seventymilestobabylon

Tony misses Steve very badly after the Accords. Some days he deals with it better than other days. (a fic featuring the booty call flip phone, minor kidnappings, and time jumps between chapters because the election has been happening and my brain has been too mush to make a proper plot)

chaptered, finished, 14k words

vorkosigan: Tony PoV, for change, if I remember correctly. Tony decides to fix Bucky because he thinks Steve loves Bucky. And Tony loves Steve. And, needless to say, Steve loves Tony. (And Bucky kinda loves Sam). The piniiiing all around. Wonderfully written, deceptively easy to read. Unputdownable. One of the best sex scenes in all fic ever, if you ask me.

How to Fall in Love (in Four Easy Steps) by morphia 

Tony and Pepper's relationship is open, with only one clear rule: they must never let the other catch them with a fling. Soon after the events of The Avengers, Tony finally uses his license to sleep with others--with Steve. And Steve knows that their sexual encounters are intended to be strictly casual, but that doesn't stop him from falling hopelessly, stupidly in love.

Or: What if they were actually banging behind the scenes?

chaptered, finished, 25k words

vorkosigan: Missing scenes (sex and feels), all the way to the aftermath of CW. Steve PoV (I think), and LOTS of pining. Very romantic and feelsy. Super-rewarding happy ending.

All Roads by lastdream AND Unweaving by Night  by lastdream

All Roads, in which Steve is a terrible nomad and a terrible flâneur, but he might just be an alright Odysseus. (one-shot, 5k)

Unweaving by Night,  in which Tony is a terrible traitor and a terrible jackal, but he just might be an alright Penelope. (one-shot, 5k)

vorkosigan: Parallel stories, character studies, super-angsty, full of pining. Very original writing style. I’d read All Roads first. Hopeful open ending.

Causality, Catastrophe and Consequences by @winterstar95

Atonement, forgiveness, guilt, and consequences. One year later and no one has come out of it unscathed.

chaptered, finifshed, 36k words

vorkosigan: Interchanging PoV’s. Steve is on the run. Goes to see Tony’s speech, prevents his assassination, ends up in coma. They haven’t quite forgiven each other. HURTS to read. One of the angstiest things I ever read. Super-original, writing-wise. Every small moment of tenderness is very rewarding because EVERYTHING IS ANGST. Hopeful open ending. Not very shippy.

WIP (will the fix-its fix anything?)

From the Ashes (series) by @erdesque

Out of the black

If he had known, he wouldn't have trusted Rogers so blindly. He wouldn't have begun to think he could understand his dad a little better just because he could finally see what a young Howard Stark had seen in Captain America. Tony doesn't want anything to do with Steve Rogers ever again, or so he tells himself. (chaptered, finished, 15k words, non-shippy)

From the ashes

I’m not quite myself if you’re not there to be my foil, and that has to count for something. Steve tries to mend his relationship with Tony. His intentions aren't well received, but at least Tony is speaking to him now, and that's a start. (one-shot, 3k words)

Unshattered

It's really a split of a second, but for a moment there both of them remain in silence staring at each other, and it's a throwback to that moment in Siberia where a truce seemed more likely than shit hitting the fan. Steve picks up the pieces from their relationship and tries to make them better. As the official tinker of things, Tony isn't happy with Steve's shoddy work. At first. (chaptered, WIP, 56k words)

vorkosigan: This is absolutely wonderful But, although it’s good from the start, it really came together for me in the second part, and the third part is AMAZING. Also, so steeped in angst you’ll barely be able to read (which is why everyone should read it, obvs)

Irreparable by @aslightstep

It's a mistake destroying Steve's gesture of goodwill, Tony thinks, even as he takes an unholy amount of glee smashing that stupid phone to bits down in his lab and DUM-E waits eagerly with a fire extinguisher for the last of the letter to burn down. But it's a mistake Tony is happy to make.

WIP, 100k words, chaptered

vorkosigan: You’ve read this one :) Also, even if it never gets finished, it’s absolutely and indisputably worth reading.

Porny, with a chance of feels (fix-its that solve things mainly through sex. or, as my 12 y.o. mind calls them, sex-its)

weigh the heart, tip the scales by carzla

It was the first time they’d seen each other since Siberia. It was probably one of the worst possible ways to have an unscheduled reunion. It was also about to get worse. A lot worse.

one-shot, 14k words

vorkosigan: Aliens made them do it, sort of. Super-angsty. Dom-sub undertones. With feels. Also, Steve is tied to a chair. And he’s got super-sensitive nipples. Somewhat-hopeful open ending.

Postscript by synteis

When Steve and Tony accidentally meet up in Vienna a month after the events of Civil War, things don't go quite as expected. There's a lot less yelling for one and their main problem is that no one thought to bring condoms.

one-shot, 4k words

vorkosigan: Tony PoV. Unexpected (and easily deniable) feels. Very good descriptions. Blowjobs in a storage room of a coffee house. Rather hopeful open ending.

Fixitish, Almost-fixits, Bordering on fix-its

Exposed by trollmela

The Avengers are back together, but nothing is okay. In public and with the team, Tony and Steve are coldly professional. The team at least knows that they still argue behind closed doors. Then the world finds out that Tony and Steve are having hate sex. Nothing is okay.

two-shot, finished, 3k words

vorkosigan: I ADORE this. I’ve read it so many times. Starts with hate sex. Ends rather tenderly. A good, honest to god punch in the gut, but with a happy-ish ending.

the calculation by tonystarxk (romanoff)

One year post-Civil War, and the team are back together.At least they're back living together. As in cohabiting the same space. 'Back together' is probably too optimistic.

one-shot, 7k words

vorkosigan: Another one that starts with hate sex and ends hopefully, but not as hopefully as Exposed. But still. I’ve reread that happy-ish, hopeful-ish ending SO many times, because asdfjkl; It’s so horrible, but it’s so good.

Put my Head Under My Pillow by lazywriter7 

Tony uses the BARF tech to get over his nightmares of Siberia.

one-shot, 10k words,

vorkosigan: Tony tries over and over to fix his memories. Steve watches the recordings. It’s super angsty, but again, ends on a hopeful note, there is catharsis. Amazingly written.

Lines of Communication by @cptxrogers

And you think you could take me, do you, Stark?”

“I’d give it a good fucking try. I’d like to shove you into the nearest wall and wrap my hands around your damn neck.”

“Oh yeah? And then what?”

Post-CACW, a series of phone calls between Tony and Steve.

one-shot, 5k words

vorkosigan: Fighting and dirty talk and phone sex, oh my! It’s perfect, it really is, and it really, really works.