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clefairymuke · 3 years

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regrets | chapter five

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pairings: levi ackerman x reader / eren jaeger x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 2028

Erwin had made an announcement at breakfast, and it took a few hours to settle into your bones. At first, you were excited -- you all were before the reality of the next few days really set in. Finally, something different, you had thought, knowing your friends shared the sentiment. Now, as you laid out your uniform for the events of tomorrow morning, fear infected your brain. There would be a scouting expedition outside the walls tomorrow.

You had just returned from another stables rendezvous with Eren. Today made a week of meeting him every night. You had one more week of bliss ahead of you, and this had to fuck it all up. You were angry, and afraid, and exhausted. Everyone was fast asleep around you, making you envious. You doubted you would be able to sleep much that night. You dropped into your bed, letting out a soft groan. You loved being a Scout, and you weren't necessarily afraid of titans, either. You were mostly afraid of losing someone. Before every mission, you thought about your friends. Sometimes you felt like you were the only one in the group that wondered if you would all make it back alive.

You tried to distract yourself by thinking about Eren, but it didn't work. He was nothing but excited about tomorrow's expedition. He had talked about it all night while you nodded your head in agreement, not wanting to ruin his mood. You knew you would be riding alongside him and your friends the next day, led by Levi. Having Sasha, Connie, and Jean near you would ease your mind a bit, you hoped. It was hard to be upset that you were on Levi's squad, despite hating him. At least you knew your friends would be well protected.

After what felt like hours of laying there in frightening thought, you finally drifted off to sleep. Instead of terrifying memories in your dreams, you saw your friends being eaten right in front of you. It's safe to say you didn't sleep for long.

---

You could feel your horse breathing underneath you. His breaths were slow and calm. You wished you could share his collected nature. Your breaths, on the other hand, were shallow and quick. You could feel your heartbeat in your skull; it seemed to block out all the noise around you. You started forward, kicking your heel into your horse's side as your eyes focused on the back of Levi's head. Jean was next to you, then Eren and Mikasa. Connie, Sasha, and Armin were behind. You thought Jean might have said something before he smiled over at you, but you couldn't hear him. As the walls grew further behind you, your heart sunk to your stomach.

You could see red flares shot along the edges of the formation every few minutes. It was morbid, but you couldn't help but be glad that you and your friends were positioned in the middle. You worried for Historia and Ymir, but you knew they wouldn't allow anything to happen to the other if they could help it. They were likely safer with each other than they would be with Erwin himself.

It was unlikely that you and your friends would encounter a titan on this mission until it was time to complete your objective. The goal was to capture an abnormal titan; it was mostly to satisfy Hange's insatiable curiosity, but there was no denying that any information would be valuable to the people of Paradis.

You saw it. A mix of "finally" and anxiety settled into your bones as the black flare shot into the sky, seemingly straight into the sun. It was on the edge of the formation, too far for you to actually lay your eyes on the titan. Then, less than a minute later, another column of black erupted -- closer this time. You winced at the thought of your dead comrades on the edge. Another erupted, even closer to the middle.

"This titan is moving impossibly fast," Jean commented, his voice strained in worry. Levi did not look back, or at the flares.

"Stay focused on the objective," he said flatly, not allowing his eyes to falter even as the flares grew closer.

You could see the titan now, just barely. The top of its head was covered in dull brown hair. It seemed to be a quadriped titan; it ran like an animal, the ground exploding around each step. You tried to ignore the blood and limbs mixed with it. It wasn't easy. It and the black smoke grew so close you couldn't stand it.

"Levi," you called, your voice unwavering despite your stomach being in knots. "What do we do?"

"Focus on your mission."

"Do you see how many people are dead?" you asked, anger filling your chest. "We cannot capture this titan."

"What did you expect to happen? Did you think the abnormal we captured would be The Peaceful Titan? Don't act dense. You are a soldier. Focus on your orders," the ice in his voice fueled the fire in yours.

"So we're to wait around while our comrades die?"

"Yes."

You could see it clearly now. The titan bounded toward the middle. You were nowhere near where you needed to be to successfully capture it. There were no trees, nothing to grab onto. The plan was absolutely meaningless. It was like you were blinded when you saw its horrifying face. You were sure this would be the moment you experienced your friends meeting their end. Connie shot his flare as it edged closer.

"Push forward," Levi stated coldly. "It will chase."

"Our horses can't move that fast," Armin spoke up. "We'll be dead before we reach the forest." You could feel the ground shake. Fellow scouts approached it in waves, five to ten of them fighting to protect Levi Squad at a time, and all of them dying one by one before your eyes.

It happened so quickly you knew you'd be completely unable to recall any of the events unfolding in front of you. Like time skipped, the titan was gripping Jean in its hand, so large it nearly covered him entirely as it lifted him to its open mouth. You weren't sure what happened between witnessing your worst fear and your ODM gear penetrating the titan's shoulder, but you were hurdling toward the titan without any plans.

Your instincts kicked in as you ripped out of its shoulder and connected your gear to its legs instead, slicing the wrist that held Jean on your way down. You went for its ankles in an attempt to render it immobile, but you knew it could continue to drag itself forward with its hands if need be. It fell, unable to catch itself because of the deep slice in its wrist. You watched, almost allowing yourself to smile, as Jean wiggled free and climbed atop Connie's horse. Your celebration was cut short, however, when the titan's knee fell onto your leg, pinning you to the ground.

Everything was blurry for a moment after your head slammed to the ground. It was almost enough to keep you from feeling the excruciating pain in your left leg as the bone snapped. But not quite. You laid there in absolute agony, unsure of what exactly was going on around you. You could feel the heat as the titan healed above you, but you couldn't focus enough to consider what would happen when it healed completely.

One second you were still on the ground, hearing the shouts of your friends as slurred-together, entirely meaningless words. The next, you were in the titan's hand, your body completely enveloped. The pressure on your leg was not doing you any favors. The only coherent thought in your head was that you were absolutely going to die.

In your next conscious moment, you were laid across a pair of arms -- a touch you didn't recognize. Your vision was blurred as you tried to see the face above you, slowly coming into focus. The head was backlit by the sun, like a halo. You felt your lips turn up a bit, woozy and dreamy. Your smile dropped as your eyes focused and the pain set back in.

Levi was holding you. The titan lay dead behind him.

---

You were getting tired of blurry vision. You awoke in an infirmary bed, your leg elevated in the air by some sort of sling. Your eyes started to flutter closed again, though you fought your hardest. The only thing able to keep you from returning to peaceful and painless sleep was the voice piping up at your side.

"Are you a fucking idiot?"

Levi. Again. You were absolutely exhausted from his seemingly constant presence.

"Sometimes. Why?" you managed to get out of your aching, dry throat. You looked around for water and saw some on the table next to you. You started to sit up and reach for it, but he knocked your hand back to your side with his own and grabbed it quickly. He handed it to you, almost gently. You took it from him, brow furrowed, and lifted it to your mouth.

"Do you realize how completely stupid your stunt out there was? You nearly died," he told you, leaning back in his chair.

"Was I supposed to just let it eat Jean?" you asked him, anger in your voice. "I would've rather died."

"No, you were supposed to let me handle it. You had no orders to attack."

"I didn't need orders. My friend was about to die. You weren't handling it."

"I ended up handling it anyway, didn't I? If you would've stood down in the first place, I could've done it without any injuries on my squad. But, because you had to protect your boyfriend and couldn't trust your commanding officer, I'm left with one of my best soldiers stuck in bed for no fucking reason. Can you see how frustrating that is?"

"He's not my boyfriend," you told him. It felt stupid that that was the first thing that came from your mouth.

"Ah, yes," he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "There's the boyfriend situation as well."

"What boyfriend situation?"

"Eren came to sit with you last night. He felt inclined to recount certain events in the stables," He said flatly, his grey eyes piercing yours with strange anger.

You were mortified. Your hand clenched around the glass of water so tightly you were sure it would break. You struggled to maintain eye contact, the last thing you wanted being showing weakness to the insufferable man sat beside you.

"He's already aware that I know, and is awaiting punishment. I haven't yet decided what would best suit this situation. I'm sure your fellow soldiers know, as well. I wasn't exactly secretive in my scolding," he smirked, so small you were sure you wouldn't have noticed it it your eyes weren't focused so solely on his expression.

You finally gained the courage to speak as his words sent rage flooding through your veins. "Why does it matter to you?"

"Well, you broke explicit rules, to start with. Secondly, what if you were to fall pregnant? Do you realize how dangerous that could be for yourself? Not to mention that Eren is not entirely safe to be around; we do not know all that there is to know about his titan. He is dangerous."

"He's not dangerous, Levi."

"Perhaps he isn't. But I can assure you that I am. If there's one thing you will learn before you are healed enough to fight again, it's respect. I'm tired of you acting stupid, brat. Grow up a bit."

You huffed, taking a gulp from your glass of water. You refused to look at him.

"I'll be back to monitor your progress. For now, I have to leave. I'm sure your friends would like to discuss your secret meetings with Eren, anyway. I think I saw Jean waiting in the hall."

With that, he rose, took the glass from your hand and set it on the table, turned, and left.

You promptly decided that you were fucked.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #aot fanfiction #aot #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #snk #eren x reader #enemies to lovers #eren jaeger #eren yeager #slowburn

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missfangirll · 3 years

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Driving me crazy

Fandom: Guardian Rating: General Relationship: Zhao Yunlan/Shen Wei, Da Qing/Ye Zun, Shen Wei & Ye Zun Tags: Fluff, Crack, Prompt: Learning to drive Words: 2585 Summary: Shen Wei learns to drive.

Read on AO3

@tehfanglyfish requested this ages ago, and I am truly sorry it took so long... It somehow refused to take the shape I wanted it to, and even now it is 70% crack. 😅 Ye Zun almost hijacked the whole thing and made it about him, so there is a lot of brotherly interaction 😅 Anyway, have some fluff/crack 😁😁

- - - - -

Of all the things that would bring down Shen Wei’s carefully crafted persona, it had to be alcohol, of course. Not even his own intake, but rather the fact that his boyfriend, his brother, and his boyfriend had had too much of it the night before and were now truly incapable of doing anything besides being whiny and mopey, slouching at their large breakfast table in shared misery.

Still, none of this would have been a problem, if not for Ye Zun’s new-found, somewhat misguided sense of responsibility. His brother had used the beginning of the new term to throw himself into some university courses – drama, of all things –, and had morphed into, rather late for Shen Wei’s taste, but who was he to complain, a model student with perfect attendance and spotless grades.

So now, on a late Friday morning, Zhao Yunlan had - in a bout of altruism and concern for his team which had absolutely nothing to do with his pounding headache - given the whole SID the day off, and abandoned him and Ye Zun at the table, leaving Shen Wei with the feeling of being the only adult in the house. Zhao Yunlan had gone back to bed without any coherent input, while Da Qing had refused to change into human form in the first place, stating that hangovers were best dealt with while having a smaller head.

Consequently, it had been only him and his slightly dishevelled brother left at the table, Ye Zun with his face in his hands, his hair in a messy ponytail, wrinkly shirt, ripped jeans, and with two different socks. Shen Wei found this a tiny bit endearing, but would rather bite off his own tongue than say it out loud.

Ye Zun groaned softly and squinted at him through his fingers. “We need to get going,” he mumbled, “I have classes in an hour and your office hours start soon, too.”

Shen Wei raised an eyebrow. With a portal, it would take them less than five minutes to get to their respective buildings, and he opened his mouth to remind his brother of that, when the other raised his head. “Did you forget that today is that ominous Spring Cleaning Day they have been talking about? ‘Open doors and open minds’ or some bullshit they called it. There won’t be an unoccupied room in the whole university, so as long as you and your--,” he visibly went through a whole lot of probably rather insulting terms, before he settled on “--lover don’t have any intimate knowledge about a deserted broom closet, we’ll have to drive.”

Shen Wei felt his ears turn red and stubbornly avoided the other’s smirk. He had indeed forgotten, and now it was way too late to take the bus and arrive in time.

Groaning, he buried his face in his hands. “We could portal somewhere close,” he tried, but Ye Zun shook his head. “It’s not a big deal, really,” he said. “My car is here, we don’t even have to take that ridiculous jeep. Just watch out for the gearshift, it tends to jam when it’s cold.”

Shen Wei stared at him, eyes wide in shock. “What do you mean, I need to watch out? Aren’t you driving?”

Ye Zun massaged the bridge of his nose, then pressed his fingers to his eyes. “I don’t think I can see clearly enough to get through traffic,” he said, “but you’ll be fine. I'll just sit there and tell you where to go.”

Shen Wei felt his breath quicken, not able to meet his brother’s gaze. Panicked, he went through a few hopefully believable excuses why he under no circumstances could drive right now, when he felt Ye Zun’s eyes on him. His brother had always been very perceptive, and even with a spectacular hangover noticed Shen Wei’s strange behaviour. Raising an eyebrow he stated, “You are stalling.” Shen Wei winced while his brother continued matter-of-factly, but with a very audible smirk in his voice, “You don’t want to drive my car and are trying to find excuses, and now I am very curious as to why that is.”

Shen Wei winced and tried to deflect. “I don’t--,” he started, but his brother was not deterred. Sitting up straighter, he fixed Shen Wei with a scrutinizing stare that made him want to fidget. Avoiding his eyes was apparently the wrong thing to do, since his brother cackled and reached over to flick his forehead. Before Shen Wei could bristle indignantly, Ye Zun pointed out, “Gege, I know you better than anyone, and that face you’re making right now tells me that you can’t or won’t do something, but are too stubborn to say it and try to find polite excuses.” Grinning widely, he continued, “And I know for a fact that you like my car more than that absurd red monster, so there are not many reasons why you would refuse to drive me, since I know you have a driver’s license. I, umm, might have...” He broke off, clearing his throat, his stare intensifying. “Anyway, that leaves only one explanation. You can’t drive, for whatever reason.”

Shen Wei, who had been sinking down further into his chair during this reasoning, didn’t look up as he said weakly, “You should work for the SID, you’re a capable investigator.”

“But,” his brother now sounded confused, “why do you have a driver’s license when you can’t drive?”

Shen Wei shifted uncomfortably. “When I first began teaching here, Dixing assumed it was a cover for being the Envoy and issued me some documents… I don’t think that was very legal to begin with.” He gave his brother a pained grimace. ”They probably didn’t even know what most of them were for, and I didn’t tell them.” Inhaling deeply, he finished his explanation. “That is why I do have a license, but I have never driven a car in my life. I’m afraid you will need to take care of that if we want to get to work in time.”

- - - - -

After Ye Zun had overcome his laughing fit, he agreed to drive them himself, despite the state he was in. It took them a while to get to the university, Ye Zun cursing and muttering under his breath, but they managed in time. When they parted in the parking lot, Shen Wei noticed a dangerous sparkle in his brother’s eyes as he regarded him for a second. It made him shiver slightly, but he didn’t comment, resolutely turning towards his office building.

He didn’t wait for Ye Zun in the late afternoon, quite familiar with the other’s schedule he knew that he had a rehearsal to attend and wouldn’t be home until dinner. Thus, he quietly locked his office door and portalled home, after making sure nobody saw him.

At home, he didn’t have time to think about the day’s unfortunate events, since Da Qing loudly requested tuna for dinner, while Zhao Yunlan equally loudly demanded attention. Sighing inwardly, he patted both of them on the head on his way to the kitchen, once more feeling like a babysitter for a group of unruly toddlers. The missing toddler turned up an hour later, just when the rice cooker made a final noise. Shen Wei purposefully filled all four bowls with vegetables, ignoring the various protests, and ushered his flock to the table. When all of them were seated, immersed in their dinner, he allowed himself to relax a little. Having all of them here, feeding them, taking care of them, still came as a surprise on some days, and he was infinitely grateful for it every day.

He felt slightly less grateful, though, when Ye Zun pushed his bowl aside and fixed him with a pointed look, a wide smirk on his face.

“Gege,” he began and, sensing that the situation would soon turn interesting, the other two slowly lowered their bowls as well, looking expectantly between Shen Wei and his brother.

“Yes,” the former replied, feeling uneasy under the other’s gaze.

“Gege,” Ye Zun repeated, drawing out the syllables, “I thought about your problem.”

Shen Wei winced, but stayed silent. Zhao Yunlan perked up. “Problem?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Biting his lip, Shen Wei tried to deny everything, when Da Qing piped up, “The fact that he can’t drive a car, despite having a license, I suppose.”

Shen Wei’s head whipped around. “How….?” he began, but Da Qing just shrugged. Of course Ye Zun had told him.

Zhao Yunlan cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know, that driver’s license is fake, I assume they gave it to you as a cover. And you’re so lost when it comes to any kind of technology, cars are surely not the one thing you managed.”

Shen Wei kept staring, not able to reply. His insensitive boyfriend chuckled. “I’m a police officer, you moron, what did you think? That thing is such a bad fake, I’m surprised Ye Zun could use it all this time without getting busted.” Ye Zun choked on his tea. Now both brothers stared incredulously at Zhao Yunlan, who just snorted and took a sip of his own tea. “I figured you’d tell me one day, or maybe ask to drive the jeep so I could show you, but you never did, and I never…” He trailed off, then inhaled deeply. “Well, anyway, would you want to learn?”

Shen Wei was still staring at him, unseeing.

“Would you want to learn?” Kunlun smiles at him, all teeth and sunshine. “You would want to teach me how to ride a horse?”, he asks, mirth in his voice. “That poor beast.” He can’t look away from that smile. “I think..,” he starts and has to clear his throat, “I think you’d be good at it.”

- - - - -

Shen Wei managed to enforce two conditions before he agreed to Zhao Yunlan’s offer: Only one person would teach him, and he wouldn’t drive the jeep. Which only left Ye Zun’s car, since he also vehemently refused to learn how to drive Zhao Yunlan’s beloved bike.

I haven’t thought this through, he thought, as he adjusted the driver’s seat and fiddled with the mirror. Ye Zun had adapted to his new surroundings the same way he did everything: by inhaling it, just not as literal as he used to. He always bought the newest gadgets, had the trendiest clothes and used all the apps Shen Wei couldn’t even guess the use of. The only exception to that lifestyle was his car. Shen Wei wasn’t sure how he had gotten it or why, but that he was very fond of it, and endured Zhao Yunlan’s regular teasing with the grandeur of a wounded martyr. The car was tiny, even Shen Wei understood that, didn’t have a lot of extras, and most curiously, had a foreign flag painted on the roof. Da Qing didn’t have any opinions about cars, he was only interested in the compartments that could potentially hold snacks, and Shen Wei didn’t care as long as it got him to work and back safely.

But now that he sat behind the steering wheel, he couldn’t help but think that using the jeep might have been a better idea. It was higher off the ground, he mused, and also provided a lot of help to the driver, as Zhao Yunlan had shown him more than once. In Ye Zun’s tiny vehicle he suddenly felt very vulnerable.

Taking a deep breath, he shook himself out of his spiraling thoughts. This was, after all, something that could be learned, and he had yet to find something he wasn’t able to master. Determined, he reached for the key, when Zhao Yunlan next to him blurted, “Stop!” Startled, he let his hand sink, looking warily at the other. Zhao Yunlan fixated him. “Where are your feet?”

“Err,” Shen Wei replied wisely, resisting the impulse to look down. “At the end of my legs, I suppose?”

Zhao Yunlan gave him an unimpressed glare. “Very funny. When driving a car with gearshift, you have to put your left foot on the clutch.” Seeing the other’s forlorn look, he amended. “The pedal on the left. Left is clutch, middle is brake, right is gas.” Shen Wei felt even more confused. “How am I supposed to step on three pedals with two feet?” His boyfriend laughed at him. “You’re not. Don’t think of using brake and gas at the same time, that’ll kill the engine. You need to keep your left foot on the left pedal, then alternate the right between the two. Try it,” he nodded encouragingly. With a deep breath, Shen Wei stepped firmly on the left pedal while turning the key. The engine started and he smiled somewhat relieved. “Alright,” Zhao Yunlan commanded, “now slowly let the clutch go and step on the gas.” Shen Wei did, and with an offended howl, the engine died. He looked uncertainly at the other. “Yeah, that can happen,” Zhao Yunlan sounded unperturbed. “Try again.”

It took a few tries, but in the end Shen Wei managed to move the car forward a bit. (Only to get excited and accelerate too much, forcing Zhao Yunlan to pull the handbrake, but that didn’t dampen his spirits much.) With a slight grin, he turned. “Alright, what is next?”

Zhao Yunlan gave him a look. “Well, we could keep practising here in the parking lot,” he said slowly, “or we could try the road. There's not that much traffic at this hour,” he added, “you should be fine.”

“It’s a calm horse, you should be fine.” “When I fall off, will you take care of me, Hei Pao Shi?” That grin again, Shen Wei thinks. He has no defenses against that grin. He just nods.

In the end, the road really wasn’t that crowded. Which made it easier for the police unit to notice a tiny foreign car whose driver was obviously drunk, oscillating in the lane, speeding up at random intervals. It took all of Zhao Yunlan’s silken persuasion skill, his SID badge and Shen Wei looking utterly helpless behind his glasses to convince the two officers to let them go, but when they had unsteadily turned a corner and Shen Wei had once more throttled the poor engine, Zhao Yunlan couldn’t keep a straight face anymore. He leaned back in his seat, eyes closed, clutching his middle as he dissolved in giggles. Shen Wei pouted for a bit, but then joined in.

After he had found his breathing again, Zhao Yunlan wheezed, “I should have told them what happens when you drink.” Wiping his eyes he added, a fond note to the teasing tone, “You are such a lightweight.”

Shen Wei smiled back. “I should have told them that all this started because you drank too much. That would have confused them even more, I think.”

Zhao Yunlan snorted, then added, reaching over to put his hand over Shen Wei’s, “Do you remember how you tried to teach me how to ride a horse?” Shen Wei made a soft noise, he was very fond of that particular memory. “I fell off, and really hoped that I would fall into a hole in the ground, but then you picked me up and said you’d take care of me…” He trailed off and regarded the other with a warm smile, which Shen Wei returned. “I promised, did I not?” “You did, and you have,” Zhao Yunlan agreed, leaning in for a kiss.

#镇魂 guardian #guardian #zhen hun #zhao yunlan #shen wei #weilan #otp: we have always been friends #da qing #ye zun #dazun #my writing #fanfic #guardian fanfic

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calpops · 4 years

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falling facade | c.h.

part four: falling failures

part one: falling flowers || part two: falling freedom || part three: falling fears

5k words

<< >>

Explanations were needed and time was not a luxury that Calum and Arden were afforded. Pressure from parents and media began to intensify at the release of the paparazzi photos. The ring was splashed across headlines again, the first public appearance of the new couple sparking more than Calum could have anticipated. His friends were asking questions as well and they were getting harder and harder to avoid. Missed calls piled up and the pressure of secrets sat heavy. Only a day had passed since the obligatory paparazzi walk and things were getting wildly out of hand. They couldn’t avoid it forever; that’s exactly what he told Michael when he paid the Clifford house a visit and asked to see Arden. He realized he didn’t even have his fake fiancée’s phone number and she was completely off the social media grid. They were due for answers and they were due for posts.

Management wanted to start the presence of the relationship in the public eye hard and fast and frequently and then start to taper off to convince of the eventual split. Michael nodded his understanding when Calum showed up in search of Arden; he disappeared to yell through the house for her and in just a moment Arden took his spot in the doorway. Calum could tell she was tired. Her soft hair was in a messy bun and strands fell down to frame her face. She wore an old and oversized T-shirt tucked into shorts where her hands found a home in the pockets and a mild expression captured her face with dark circles under her eyes. She leaned against the door frame and licked her lips, teeth catching in their venture and reminding Calum of momentary bliss on a dance floor.

“We need to figure some things out,” he started with and when she frowned and her knees knocked into each other he knew that was too open ended and nerve wracking of a statement to start with. “We need to get our story straight is all. We need to figure out who we’re telling what.”

“Oh. Right,” she mumbled and craned her neck to look behind her and into the house before looking back at Calum. “Not here. Please. Can we go somewhere else?”

“Of course.”

They went to Calum’s place where it was quiet and private and they could think out loud with each other, with only Duke to listen in on them. Calum could see Arden visibly relaxing from the nervous state she was in at the doorway. She sank into the plush couch and Duke surprisingly made his way over to her; let her scratch under his chin and settled at her side. Calum sat on her other side and let them both have a moment to think through the questions they knew needed to be answered.

“It’s so quiet here. I don’t think it’s been this quiet at Michael’s since, well—since I got there,” she said and let out a tired sigh. Calum wondered if the noise of so many inhabitants living in the house had interrupted her sleep. “This is nice. I can actually hear myself think.”

Calum wanted to tell her she could come over and stay whenever she liked, for the quiet. But with only four days of a fake relationship under their belts and years of not knowing each other after years of orbiting each other, he thought it might be too soon. He let her have a few more minutes of quiet, her tired eyes casted her gaze out the window and towards the mid morning sun. Her hand lazily pet Duke who careened into her side and was satiated by the touch. Calum could see her eyes were heavy with every blink lasting longer than the previous. Her feet slightly wiggled as they couldn’t quite reach the hardwood floor and short stuff affectionately made way into Calum’s thoughts. He tried to bite back a grin at the memory of her feisty dislike of what Calum might now consider a term of endearment. From there his mind sank into other memories; trying so hard to place Arden in more moments. But she had disappeared for years. He couldn’t conjure up an image of her in a concert crowd. Never saw her backstage. For some reason, she avoided the band. Calum then realized the band would be the best tool to utilize for their situation.

“I think Ashton and Luke need to know,” Calum suddenly blurted out and he wasn’t sure why or where the words came from but they killed the silence and the relaxed look on Arden’s face. “At least them. They can help with the PR stuff. It’d make it easier. They can have my back in interviews when it’s brought up. If they know the game we’re playing they can help me fill in the gaps when you’re not there. And it would get them off my back.”

Arden bit her lip and absentmindedly or perhaps with a mind full to the brim; nodded. She didn’t say anything in response immediately but turned her gaze over to Calum. He knew she was scrutinizing the situation. She looked him up and down once before speaking.

“We can tell them. You’re right. They could help,” she affirmed—Michael’s help could only go so far, it would be unrealistic for the rest of the band to be out of the loop. “But can we hold off on telling our parents? At least for a while? I don’t think I’m ready to face all of that yet.”

Calum recalled her words at the diner from the previous day. Disappoint my parents. Arden believed they wouldn’t be okay with the situation, that they would think less of her for their drunken night and reckless decisions without coherent thought processes and all that rained down on them because of it. He still didn’t have the full story to that reasoning and it didn’t seem she was wanting or willing to offer it now. He wanted to know why; to have a reason and justification for white lies and half truths to his family. But her comfortability and wants needed to be factored in as well. They had created all of this together. He found with another look at her that he couldn’t deny her of the request, not when her eyes were pleading and her lower lip was trembling. Maybe not ever.

“We can tell them we’re still trying to figure us out,” Calum supplied a half truth. In all honesty he wasn’t sure what they were to each other. “We can be vague. We reconnected while you were visiting Michael. We went to Vegas for a wedding and maybe we got swept up in the romance and got engaged. But we’re still trying to figure things out. They don’t need to know about the details.”

Or about the contracts.

“Are you sure you’re okay with that? I don’t want you to feel like you have to lie for me.”

Calum didn’t tell her that it might not feel like lying. He just shrugged and cleared his throat. She took it as a confirmation and a tired smile slowly tugged at the corners of her mouth. He couldn’t help but notice her lips were glossy and faintly remember the taste of sugar on them. It had been days since the kiss. He missed the sweetness and the soft touch. He didn’t miss the feeling of falling or wind at his back; that was ever present and all consuming. It was shifting. Some moments it was an easy and exhilarating descent through soft clouds. Other times it was a free fall filled with inhibitions and anxieties. But here, in the quiet with just the two of them and walls crumbled down and secrets able to be shared, Calum was content to enjoy the feeling.

“We can call them tomorrow,” Calum decided; knowing their parents wouldn’t be able to wait much longer. He wasn’t sure what tactics Arden was employing to hold her parents off or how much they might be hounding Michael for explanations as well. “But we are due for a post today.”

Calum knew once whatever photo they took went up there would be an influx of questions. Luke and Ashton would be on him in a second, and recognizing the house they might even drive over to get their answers. He could probably stall his parents' curiosity with some texts. Calum hadn’t even spared the comments on the initial photo any thought. He almost didn’t dare to look. He could picture them in his mind and he figured they were better left online. He was grateful Arden wasn’t online anymore. Her socials had gone dark months ago and Calum found some peace of mind from that.

“How do we do it our way?” She asked, referring to the fact they wanted to keep as much of themselves to themselves. She reveled in privacy and feared losing control of her life. Calum wanted to play the publicity game in a way they could win.

He had put a lot of thought into how to go about posting. The paparazzi photos had worked in their favor. Her hidden face and back to the camera provided a sense of security and left most of the comments circulating about the ring and the way Calum looked at her. Management had no complaints about the way they conducted the pap walk. Calum came off as protective and she was portrayed as shy. They needed to keep that narrative in their hands and on the board. They couldn’t let false claims and the wrath of the PR team take over.

“The most important thing right now still seems to be the ring,” Calum mused and took a glance down at her hand still coddling Duke with pets to see it fit to her finger. He was surprised she was wearing it; his visit was unprompted and though a post was scheduled for the day he didn't mention it before leaving. “Good thing you’re wearing it.”

“I haven’t taken it off,” she admitted with a faint blush and stalling hand. Duke let out a small whimper at the loss of contact as she brought her hand up but nuzzled into her further to make up for it. “All those people at Michael’s don’t know it’s fake. I also don’t want to lose it and get us in trouble.”

Her reasoning made sense and Calum was hit with the thought that pretending for her was a lot more permanent with the lack of privacy at the Clifford compound. It followed her everywhere. The weight of the ring was a constant reminder. At least when Calum got home he could stop pretending. Though, he was then faced with the question of how much was real and how much was fake. The ring was fake. The feelings that followed him were a whole other battle that he was entirely unprepared for.

“Next time we decide to get fake engaged, let’s pick a less hideous ring,” she said as the glare of the diamond picked up the sunlight and glinted on the couch. “I don’t know why people would want to see this thing.”

Calum smirked at the lighthearted words and the gaudy ring that was too big for her small finger. “It’s not that bad.”

Arden gave him a serious look with an arched eyebrow and a tilt of her head.

“It is pretty bad,” he admitted in a grumble of defeat. “But I’d rather the attention and scrutiny be on it.” Rather than you.

Arden seemed to understand the implications of those three unsaid words. She went to fidget with the ring but stopped herself and instead pet Duke who appreciated the attention with relaxed eyes slipping closed and a small groan. Calum couldn’t believe how well the old dog took to her. He was usually standoffish around new people. Hardly liked attention from anyone other than Calum. But he was soaking up her pets and his tail was wagging at every word she said directed to him. Calum was awestruck and an idea hit him; another way to keep Arden from taking the brunt of the attention and invasion of privacy. A way to stay themselves in the face of pretending.

“What are you thinking?” Arden asked and Calum knew she could see the wheels turning in his mind and how loudly his silence spoke in that moment.

“I know what we can do,” Calum began, then shifted to grab his phone out of his pants pocket and brought himself even closer into Arden’s side. He beckoned for Duke who hesitated a moment, wanting nothing more than to stay under the affection of Arden. But he slowly sat himself up and gave Calum a cursory glance with uninterested eyes.

Calum reached over to pick him up and when he gave a little wiggle and huff Calum laughed and placed him in Arden’s arms. She didn’t hesitate to receive the disgruntled dog or coo to him to get him happy again. Calum’s heart was warm at the exchange; a smile growing with every baby voiced word she said. The sun spilled in through floor length windows and lit her in a soft glow as Calum pulled his camera up. The ring was visible in her position of holding Duke. Sensing what was happening Arden did her best to hide her face in the embrace of Duke. Calum leaned in with his arm outstretched and the camera facing them. He gave her a small kiss on the cheek, helping to obscure what could be seen of her face. He snapped a photo and then a few more when she was grinning and Duke was set down. Calum’s arm fell and his lips hovered as Arden turned to him.

Honey and peaches and sugar were just before him. Her eyes were hooded and soft, hazel gleaming in the light and Calum couldn’t help but inch closer. He vaguely heard Duke jump off the couch and pad off to his own bed but he was too caught up in the moment to give it much more than half a thought. She blinked slowly and Calum did too and without seeing or knowing he was kissing her again. Tiny alarm bells rang in his mind but they were drowned out by the sweetness invading his senses. He didn’t care that Arden was Michael’s sister. He didn’t care that the pretenses of their relationship were fake and constructed by contracts—but real with a date and a kiss preceding all of that. All he cared about was the moment and the feeling of her lips against his. And the way his hand found its way to her jaw, fingertips light and tingling as they trailed along and his fingers tangled in her hair.

The moment was bliss and longer lived than on the dance floor. But still, all too soon she was pulling away but staying still in his hold. His eyes shot open to find hers still closed, lips pouted and pink dancing across her cheeks. Her eyes opened slowly; he saw the even rise and fall of her chest. She was calm and that reinforced the feelings of bliss Calum experienced in their brief moment. Words were evasive and meaningless when their gazes held and his fingers drifted from her hair back to her jaw. They were silent and let that speak for them. He could hear the tiny breaths escaping her. Could see her eyes dart up and down as if in contemplation of what might happen next. As Calum began to think that through—debating if he should lean in again or not—she made the decision and pulled away, leaving his hand to fall as a sigh escaped her.

“Guess we got caught up in the charade,” she said as her gaze went distant and the pink on her cheeks began to fade. She bit her lip and leaned back into the plush cushions of the couch.

“Yeah,” Calum agreed though he wasn’t too sure of that on his end.

His camera still captured the screen of his phone and a tiny photo sat in the bottom corner. It reminded him of what the moment was and what needed to be done. He pulled up his social media and found the photo where Arden was mostly hidden by Duke and Calum’s kiss. He was apprehensive and indecisive when captioning it. Arden was silent behind him, relaxed, while he was hunched over with phone in one hand and chin in the other. Settling for the less is more tactic he simply put a heart and leaned back and angled the phone for Arden’s eyes.

“Is this okay to post?”

He wanted to make sure they were always on the same page when it came to the stunt. He wanted her permission. Even though it was his profile, her comfortability of being on it was more important. She nodded and Calum hit post with his heart in his throat and sweaty palms still gripping the phone. He could still feel their kiss, could still taste sugar when he licked his lips and turned to face her. She was seemingly at ease while Calum was at war with himself.

It only took a few minutes of the post being up for the calls and texts to start piling up. Calum had called his family the previous night after he and Arden decided to hold off. He evaded their questions as best he could and said he’d explain when the time was right and they were ready. It was a sinking feeling to be engulfed in; he had never been so evasive with his family before. But it was justified to keep Arden okay. He knew they were picking up on the fact he couldn’t say things, not that he didn’t want to or didn’t trust them. But Luke and Ashton were still in the dark and seeking the light. Others had questions; a few exes popped up in search of answers, but they weren’t important.

“Should we bite the bullet and tell Ash and Luke the truth in one go?” Calum asked as his phone lit up with a FaceTime call from Ashton, again.

Arden took a moment to think it over and when a grin spread across her face and mischief twinkled in her hazel eyes Calum couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking.

“We could have fun with it first,” she said and Calum knew exactly what she meant as she sat up.

He slid back and wrapped an arm around her, let her head rest against him and started a group call with her hand and ring in the shot; it delicately rested against his chest and he was sure she could feel the beat of his heart just like she did with her face to his chest at the wedding. It was bound to skip and thump a little harder than usual. The connection came alive at a moment’s notice and Ashton lit up the screen with his mouth already running; throwing questions around rapidly—with some choice words to highlight his confusion—until the realization Arden was right there and snuggled into Calum’s side donned on him.

“What the fuck?” Ashton’s new tirade of questioning began with an expletive. “Don’t tell me you two idiots actually got married in Vegas?”

“Married?” Luke asked as he joined the call and caught Ashton’s last sentence. “You married Michael’s sister?”

“Management must be covering it up with just an engagement. Oh god, it makes so much sense,” Ashton reasoned though he was wildly wrong. Calum and Arden stayed quiet; mildly amused by the guessing game ensuing, even egging it on by nuzzling closer together. “Nothing good ever comes from Vegas. No offense, but what the hell were you guys thinking?”

“They were probably drunk,” Luke supplied and then tacked on in a mumble. “Sure glad I don’t have a sister.”

They let Ashton and Luke simmer with comments and questions for another couple of minutes. They came in and out with Calum’s subpar internet connection. Only when the speculation started getting out of hand; wild theories of a secret relationship for months or years tumbling from their lips. Calum decided to cut them off and Arden backed away; the fun quickly dwindling and crashing back into reality.

“Guys stop. We’re not married,” Calum said in a raised voice, he thought he felt Arden flinch next to him. Once Ashton and Luke’s theories died on their lips and the connection went quiet Calum cleared his throat. “We didn’t get married in Vegas. We haven’t been in a secret relationship.”

“Then what the hell is happening?” Luke asked.

“Not married but engaged then?” Ashton questioned and blew out a huff. “Who goes to Vegas and just gets engaged?”

“We’re not really engaged,” Calum stated and eyebrows shot up in surprise as a response. They both stayed quiet on the other ends and gave time for Calum to explain. “It was supposed to be a joke, we think… We were pretty drunk. Management didn’t think it was funny. Now it’s a stunt.”

The few sentences it took to wrap up the explanation was enough. They had all had their own individual and band struggles with management and PR disasters. Calum didn’t need to offer up why management didn’t find it funny or why they had taken it so seriously they made it into a stunt. Luke and Ashton were aware of how extreme things could get in the matters of the press. In the face of maintaining or creating images. A lot of things came down to the will of management. Arden’s fear of losing control wasn’t so far fetched or fantastical. But Calum had already swore to himself he’d do anything and everything in his power to keep her from spiraling at the hands of the media and management.

Arden stayed quiet as Luke and Ashton absorbed the news and asked a few follow up questions—how long, what commitments did they sign up for, was there anything they could do to help. Calum responded in the best ways he could and kept an eye on Arden all the while. She sank back into the couch, knees resting on the cushions and fingers playing with the hem of her shorts. She was barely within the shot of the camera now. Calum dominated most of the picture and explanation. He wanted to wrap it up and get back to Arden. Craved more moments made just between them. Thoughts of the diner and a simple line drawing in red crayon and secrets slipping out like they didn’t matter captured his thoughts as the call was winding down and questions were finally answered. Ashton and Luke were on board to do whatever they could to aid them in their cause to keep playing it their way.

When Calum finally hung up he looked back at Arden. She was still and the picture of tired. Although Calum wanted to take her away again; off in search of somewhere real where more stories could be shared he could tell she wasn’t up for it. He laid back against the couch and didn’t move when she rested against him again; it was almost as if they were both working on instinct and seeking comfort from the other. He soaked up the essence of honey and sweetness and breathed her in. She let out a drawn out sigh he swore must have been a yawn she was trying to hide.

“Wanna stay here a while?” He asked just barely above a whisper and felt her nod against him.

He had no complaints for that. His day was free and the mid morning was painting a lovely picture out the window before them. The couch was comfortable and her presence made him warmer than the sun heating his skin. He had a culmination of plans for them that he could sit with in the silence. For everything fake they had to do he wanted to follow it with something real. He wanted to show Arden the sides of him that no one else got to see. Wanted to show her the places that made him feel like himself. And if in that process he got to see the sides of her no one else knew or secrets she had never shared before then that was a bonus.

They sat in a comfortable silence and position. Time slipped past unbeknownst in the quiet that surrounded them. Calum had never been one for something like this. He had never been so at ease he didn’t need words or background noise or distractions. But with only the sound of her small breaths, his heart beating a little louder than usual and the occasional snore from Duke he was convinced he was finding a liking for it. Without thinking his hand wandered to her hair. Just minutes before his fingers were tangled in the strands and his lips pressed against hers. This time he calmly stroked through the soft tresses and ate up the content sigh that escaped her. She watched out the window and he watched her until her eyes slipped closed and he allowed himself to follow her into sleep.

When they woke the sun was behind the tree line, hiding between leaves and branches that were casted in a warm and golden glow. Calum was first to wake and take a moment to gather his surroundings. The couch. A usual napping spot for him. Arden. She was still rested against him, his arm still around her and fingers falling on her collarbones where their trail of brushing through her hair ended. Duke was still in his bed but peaked up with a half interested gaze as Arden shifted as she woke. She greeted Calum with slow blinks and a slow smile crossing her face.

“I haven’t slept that well since I’ve been here,” she admitted around a yawn and a stretch; leaving Calum’s side with the motion. “I should probably get back before Michael thinks we’re up to no good.”

She reached for her phone in her shorts pocket, Calum assumed she was going to call for a car and stopped her with a hand on top of hers. “I’ll bring you.”

The car ride was quiet as they both contemplated the events of the day. The plan for their parents would need to be set into motion soon. Luke and Ashton could now help in their endeavors. The new photo was exploding with buzz and speculation. The kiss on the cheek lingered and became something much more. Their real moment when the camera and their guards dropped was tailspinning through Calum’s subconscious. Calum could see how busy Michael’s house was when they arrived. Cars spilled onto the road and people passed in the front windows. He put the car in park and caught the end of an eye roll from Arden as she took in the added company.

“Give me your phone,” Calum said quickly in a force of realization. “We need each other’s numbers.”

Arden gave him a puzzled look but handed the device over unlocked. Calum quickly added his number to her contacts and sent himself a text so he could have hers too.

“Text me whenever you want to get away from the noise,” he offered as he passed her phone back.

She bit her lip and looked down at the screen; seeing his name and the small message sent to his phone. A ring in the message box made her laugh and for the first time he noticed small dimples appearing as her smile grew.

“You’re ridiculous,” she commented as she shook her head and tapped the screen. He leaned over to see what she was doing but she angled herself away until she was done; showing his updated info to include the ring in his name. “Just in case I ever forget we’re fake engaged.”

She said it with a wink and a small giggle that filled Calum’s chest with a nervous warmth and flutter as he laughed along with her. She unbuckled but didn’t make a move for the door handle. Instead she leaned over towards Calum, a now familiar brush of her lips ghosting on his cheek as she thanked him. Calum swore he’d never tire of her gratitude though he wasn’t sure he truly deserved it. He didn’t feel like he’d done anything worthy of a thank you; but he never rejected her words or the warmth of her closeness. It was all so consuming and just a bit addictive.

“I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you soon,” she said with a pointed gaze at the colossal house filled with too many people in front of them.

“I look forward to it,” he replied with every ounce of honesty in him.

Arden left Calum with a smile and a wave when the door was shut. He made sure she got inside okay, waited to drive off until the door was shut behind her and his head stopped spinning from the overwhelming scent of peaches lingering in the car. He drove home with the windows open in an attempt to get his head above water and mind away from places it shouldn’t dive into. She said it herself; they were caught up in the charade. Everything meant nothing more than the facade they had to put on. A speck of doubt pushed its way through his thoughts; her words were drawn out and unsure. He wondered if she too was trying to convince herself of that. He couldn’t bring himself to believe it was all fake. At least not on his end. Falling failures crashed around him in plumes of smoke that threatened to choke him; his descent was becoming more and more dangerous as each smile and real moment forced him down faster and faster.

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gwenbrightly · 3 years

Text

Redwall Falls Chapter 2

“He’s looking at me...” Brome heard his sister whisper to herself. She was not so inconspicuously watching Martin, one of the Mystery Shack’s teenaged employees, while she cleaned bobbleheads made in the image of their Great Aunt (or Graunt) Polly. The siblings had been put to work helping out around the tourist trap as soon as they’d had some time to settle in.

“Why don’t you just, I don’t know, talk to him?” he suggested with an eye roll. Rose stared at him.

“After what happened last time?” she cringed. Yesterday, when they’d met him (and the handy-squirrel known as Feldoh), the mouse had introduced himself before saying something about a “rosty nose”, which had taken several minutes to decipher. Brome still wasn’t sure what that was about, but it had definitely been awkward.

“Well, he’s proven that he can speak coherently,” Brome observed, nodding his head at the customer Martin was currently ringing up, “so maybe this time you guys can make it through an entire conversation without crashing.”

“I... Don’t be so pushy, Brome. These things take time. And besides-” Rose’s protests were cut off by Graunt Polly’s appearance from the back room.

“All right, all right, look alive, everybeast. I need someone to go hang up these signs in the spooky part of the forest,” the mole announced, displaying several signs that had advertisements with question marks and directions to the Mystery Shack on them. Rose, Brome, Feldoh, and Martin all glanced at each other.

“Not it,” Rose said quickly.

“Not it,” Brome followed suit.

“Also not it. You needed me to switch out the lightbulbs upstairs, remember?” It was Feldoh, this time. Graunt Polly looked annoyed.

“Martin, go hang these signs.” She ordered. “Oh, I would, but it’s so far. And I just realized I never had my lunch break so...”

“I’d fire all of you if I could,” Polly complained, frowning at Martin’s lame excuse. Her statement didn’t seem to have the desired effect, for she looked rather disappointed when no one took the hint and volunteered as tribute.

“Fine, then. Guess we’re gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way,” she said, “let’s make it.. Eanie, meanie, minie… you,” she pointed a paw at Brome. He groaned in dismay.

“What? No. Graunt Polly, there’s something off about these woods… they’re creepy and I always feel like I’m being watched.”

“Noonvale doesn’t have much in the way of real forests, Brome. It’s gonna take some time for you to adjust to, well, the great outdoors,” Polly told him, giving his headfur a ruffle. He looked to Rose for backup, but she didn’t offer anything.

“I’m telling you – there’s something weird going on in this town. Homesickness can’t explain why the mosquito bites on my arm spell out ‘beware’.” Brome pointed out, rolling up his sleeve to show the others. Feldoh made a gagging noise. Rose raised an eyebrow and said,

“It looks more like ‘bewarb’ to me, and that’s really only if you squint.”

“Look, kid, that whole ‘monsters in the woods’ thing is just a local legend drummed up to attract more tourists,” Polly tried to assure him, but Brome wasn’t convinced. He had only been in Gravity falls for a day and he’d already seen bizarre glowing lights, heard strange noises, and been accosted by possibly radioactive mosquitos.

“But...” he protested as Graunt Polly plopped the signs into his reluctantly waiting arms.

“Stop being so paranoid and try to have some fun with this, eh, Brome?”

_______________

“No one believes anything I say,” Brome muttered to himself as he nailed a sign to a tree. It felt like he had been out in the forest for hours. All by himself. With no one to talk (complain) to. Was it even legal to send children out into the forest to perform manual labor without supervision? He’d have to check the local child labor laws once he got access to wifi – yet another thing the Mystery Shack seemed to be lacking in.

“Ugh!” he cried. “Stupid Mystery Shack! Stupid signs!”

Kathunk! Brome kicked the next tree he came to and immediately recoiled. He yelped in pain, then cocked his head. Trees didn’t make weird echoey noises… did they?

“Weird…” he commented, dropping the remaining sign on the ground so he could investigate further. Rapping gently on the tree – he didn’t want to hurt himself – Brome listened to the oddly metallic sound the tree made on impact. Something was definitely off about it. He took the sleeve of his sweatshirt and rubbed away at the trunk. Textured brown paint and a healthy coating of dirt and grime gave way to old metal. Ahah! The entire tree was fake. In full detective mode, now, Brome examined the tree until he spotted a small handle.

With slight apprehension, for there was always a chance his actions would activate an army of laser equipped robots, he grasped the lever with both paws and yanked it down. Nothing happened. No grand reveal. No explosion. Just the sound of birds chirping in the distance.

The young mouse huffed in disappointment and turned to leave, wishing he hadn’t gotten his hopes up. All his Sci-Fi TV shows and books had lied to him. Cool things never happened in real life. The world just didn’t work that way. But then, the creaking of a rusty hatch forcing its way open somewhere nearby caused him to stop in his tracks.

Brome circled the area, searching for the source of the sound. The switch must have done something, after all. He checked every nook and cranny, below each bush and on top of every rock and stump. His query remained elusive. Whatever the lever had opened was clearly well hidden. Brome took a step backwards, hoping the action would give him a different view of this patch of forest.

In a way, he got exactly what he wanted; the fallen tree he tripped over certainly forced him to see the area from a different angle. But the unexpected fall wasn’t very pleasant and Brome couldn’t help but wonder how badly he’d have to hurt himself before his parents would let him come home. He lay on the ground for a moment, half tempted to sink into the dirt and become one with nature. Thankfully, such drastic actions did not end up being necessary.

It was no wonder Brome hadn’t noticed the bizarre hole the switch had uncovered. Half buried by the log and built from camouflaged materials, he would have missed it completely if not for the fact that he’d practically fallen right on top of it. He sat up, thoughtfully. Whoever had installed this hidden treasure trove obviously hadn’t wanted anyone to find it. How long had it been since someone sat where he now sat? Since somebeast had peered into the hole to examine its secrets? Brome gently removed an object wrapped in old newspapers, bursting into a fit of sneezes at the resulting cloud of dust that had floated into the air.

It was old. Old-old, as in more than just a few years old. The newspapers were from several decades ago. Their edges had curled with age, and some of the lettering was too faded to be legible. Fortunately, Brome had little interest in the newspaper; the item it protected was far more intriguing. A journal. And journals always had juicy secrets written in them – he’d learned that from snooping in Rose’s bedroom (though this journal would inevitably be much more interesting than his sister’s diary).

The journal’s design was simple enough. It was made of thick brown leather with the insignia of a paw print on the front cover. Brome wasn’t sure what kind of creature would have an entire extra toe. He also wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. What if the journal contained something bad? Something he wasn’t supposed to see?

It must have been hidden for a reason, after all. The young mouse sat for a moment, pondering his options. He could, of course, bury the journal and get back to work hanging Graunt Polly’s signs. He could also take his chances and open the book regardless of ancient curses or government Intel. It was a difficult choice.

“Alright, mystery beast. Let’s see what you’ve been hiding,” Brome muttered when his curiosity finally got the better of him. He hummed thoughtfully and flipped through the first few pages. They were covered with sketches of creatures he had never seen before. Detailed notes and memos accompanied many of the sketches.

“It's hard to believe it's been six years since I began studying the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Falls,” he read aloud from the page that had the most writing. Six years was a long time to be stuck in this place. The author must have had an awful lot of spare time on their paws to create such an elaborate journal. Flipping through the journal some more, Brome found himself growing more intrigued with each page he read.

Eventually, the writing and sketches grew increasingly erratic and less caretakingly organized. Notes that made no sense lined the margins in some places. One page in particular had the words Trust No One scrawled across its top in large lettering. Brome read the rest of the entry with bated breath, “Unfortunately, my suspicions have been confirmed. I'm being watched. I must hide this book before he finds it. Remember: in Gravity Falls there is no one you can trust." He paused, confused. That seemed… harsh. But if Gravity Falls really did have a dark side-

“Watcha doin?” someone said, sending Brome into a frenzied attempt to hide the journal behind his back. He groaned when he realized who it was. His sister gave him an awkward wave.

“Rose! Thanks for that. I really needed a heart attack today,” he stated flatly.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rose told him, sitting down on the fallen tree, “Graunt Polly sent me to check on you.”

“Oh,” he said. He felt a little foolish for being so easily shaken. The journal’s tone was clearly getting to him.

“So… what were you reading that you didn’t notice me coming your way?” she asked.

“It’s nothing,” Brome said quickly. Rose hummed in response, clearly skeptical.

“Seems like pretty interesting nothingness. You were really invested in it.”

“Well… it’s not nothing nothing,” he admitted, “Just not something I should show you out here where anyone could happen to walk by. Let’s go somewhere more… private.”

“Alright. But now I’m curious. This better not be evidence of aliens, or I’m going to be very insulted that you didn’t show me right away,” Rose teased, ruffling his head fur. Brome winked at her and stood up. He waved the journal at her before taking off in the direction of the Mystery Shack as he said,

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

After all, surely the book journal hadn’t meant sisters when it said trust no one… right?

#redwall #redwall fanfiction #myfics #gravity falls #laterose of noonvale #martin the warrior #brome the worrier

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schrijverr · 3 years

Text

Made for two

When they get stuck in a fox-hole Jonny gets slightly too comfortable between Bertie and Tim, who decide to tell him how much he means to them when he freaks out about letting himself get affection.

On AO3.

Ships: Tim x Bertie x Jonny

warnings: Jonnys low self esteem and mentions of war. Tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!

~~~~~~~~~

Jonny skidded into a fox-hole, Tim hot on his trail while Bertie held up the lead-sheet. This wasn’t an unusual situation to find themselves in, but what was different was that The Toy Soldier wasn’t there and that Bertie and Tim weren’t next to each other, instead sandwiching Jonny between the two of them.

This was a fact Jonny became aware of the moment the lead-sheet was lowered above them. His eyes flitted between Berties chest in front of him and the sheet above him as he cursed.

“What’s wrong?” Bertie asked concerned as he heard the swears.

Blushing Jonny said: “Nothing, nothing, just a tight fit.”

And that wasn’t a lie, the fox-hole wasn’t made for this many people and was smaller than the one they normally occupied back when TS was still with them, but it was mostly that Jonny felt awkward he had gotten between Bertie and Tim.

Bertie and Tim were always near each other and touching, it was clear how much they loved one another and now he was trapped between them in a small hot space without The Toy Soldier as barrier.

Don’t get Jonny wrong, he didn’t not want to be here, actually he would like nothing less then the comfort and closeness Bertie and Tim could give him, but he didn’t want to intrude on them or impose his own need for affection on them.

It had gotten a bit quiet after his reply, but there was a bit of shuffling, then Tim said: “I don’t think I can get backwards, this is made for two, sorry.”

“‘S alright. I don’t mind that much.” Jonny tried to backtrack, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll live.”

“Are you sure?” Bertie checked.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine.” Jonny waved his concern away.

He felt how the two others had shuffled away to press themselves into the wall as much as possible to give him as much space as possible. He was now able move a bit and the space immediately felt to big and cold, despite the cramped heat that was the reality.

Above them the alarms still blared but in the fox-hole it was silent. Jonny was well aware of how uncomfortable he had probably made the other two and was wracking his brain for something to say to make it right, but nothing came through the insults directed at himself.

With his thoughts somewhere else Jonny didn’t notice his rifle slipping of his shoulder, so when it suddenly dropped to the floor he yelped slightly and jumped, making him fall into Berties chest.

Before he could apologize Tim had a hand over his mouth and hissed: “Shush, I think I hear someone.”

The three of them froze as they listened. For a moment nothing happened, then they heard a gurgle and the sounds of someone sizzling. Berties eyes grew wide and he said: “Someone’s dying out there.”

“And we’re not helping them, love.” Tim told him with a stern look, moving his hand from Jonnys mouth to Berties shoulder as he looked him in the eye, “Whoever it is, they’re dead now, we are not risking it.”

Bertie looked up for a second, then relented. He put his hand on Tims and agreed: “Okay, we’ll stay.”

During the conversation they had all but forgotten about Jonny, who wasn’t going to point this out to them, instead focusing on how much taller the two were, a detail he hadn’t really noticed until they were literally talking over his head.

However, Bertie did notice, which in turn made Tim notice, making them both shuffle back with an apology.

Jonny missed them instantly and snapped: “For fucks sake, I don’t think you got an illness, we’re gonna be here for a while, please just stand normally, Jesus fuck.”

It was silent for a moment. Jonny was just about to start worrying if he’d said something wrong when Tim commented: “I don’t think fuck was his last name, but I never really paid attention in Sunday school.”

Bertie and Jonny laughed at that as everyone relaxed slightly as they waited for the minutes to tick by. It took a surprisingly long time to cook someone in a microwave and the Lunar Men never took chances, so microwave attacks could take a while.

So they just stood in their fox-hole and waited.

If The Toy Soldier were here, Jonny would be annoying it while Tim and Bertie held each other and whispered lowly.

Jonny missed that, missed TS cheerfully obliging him in reshaping its mustache or not minding him fiddling with the buttons on its uniform.

Now that he thought about it, he missed the others too. He might have enlisted on his own, but that was because there was nothing better to do on the stupid planet he had been dumped on as punishment.

He hoped the other were okay, he hoped Ashes was protecting Nastya like they’d promised and Brian wasn’t letting the loneliness of the cockpit get to him and that Ivy wasn’t letting herself get lost between her books. He even hoped The Toy Soldier was having fun on the other side.

All these emotions hit him when he looked up and saw Bertie staring lovingly at Tim, who was most likely behind him staring back.

Here he was, in a random solar system, on a random moon, in a tiny fox-hole all by himself keeping two people from getting a bit of comfort. He always ruined relations between people, that’s why he had been dumped there, apparently plotting against the captain was mutiny and unacceptable.

The sadness of it all was almost funny.

His knees buckled slightly beneath him and he could hear himself make a noise that could be interpreted as both a laugh and a sob.

Meeting Berties chest with his forehead, the other asked: “Jonny? Jonny, are you alright?”

Jonny leaned for a moment, then sighed: “I’m fine, I’m fucking fabulous.”

He was sure Tim was about to make a smart-ass comment about that when the alarms cut out, signaling the attack was over.

“Oh thank fuck.” Jonny released a breath as he started to climb out of the fox-hole, but before he could get far, he was tugged back down by Tim, who returned his hand over Jonnys mouth as he shushed him and whispered about a fast infantry attack right after a few days back.

Tim was about to loose a finger to Jonnys teeth when they heard footsteps and rifles firing. Bertie and Tims hearts beat in their throats as they silently waited for the footsteps and fighting to go away, so that they would be safe.

They tensed up at the footsteps directly above them and prayed the Lunar Men wouldn’t notice the slight change in sound when they hit the lead-sheet.

Unconsciously Tim had started inching closer to Bertie, taking Jonny with him. With the extra weight above them, a bit of the wall crumbled, making Tim come forward even more.

Jonny was now really pressed tightly between the two. Tims hand was still over his mouth, while his other arm was around Jonnys waist from where he had put it to keep Jonny from leaving the fox-hole. Bertie meanwhile had wrapped his left arm protectively around Tim, squishing Jonny into his chest, as his right aimed his rifle up, ready to fire.

The seconds seemed to pass like hours, but soon the footsteps walked on and after that the rest of the noises ceased as well.

Three pairs shoulders released the tension in them, well, two pairs of shoulders, Jonny was already quite relaxed. He was practically held upright by the two other and he’d gone boneless in the unfamiliar comforting warmth, beneath his ear he could hear Berties heart beating steadily and there was no place he’d rather be right now.

With the immediate danger gone Bertie and Tim now seemed to notice the limp form of Jonny in their arms. They looked down, faces full of concern that Jonny had accidentally gotten killed, but instead found him peacefully leaning against them with his eyes closed.

For a moment neither knew how to proceed. They had never seen Jonny so relaxed and it felt wrong to take that from him.

They shared a look, before they looked back down again as Jonny rubbed his face into Berties chest and sagged even further into them. Softly Bertie said: “Hey there, buddy. Are you awake?”

Jonny frowned slightly at that and mumbled: “Jus’ a littl’onger.”

So apparently Jonny was on the edge of coherency, if Bertie and Tim had to guess it was the nights of staying up to keep watch, not trusting the others to do it, catching up on him as well as a general lack of affection they had observed in him.

If it were a day off in camp when this had happened, they wouldn't hesitate to keep Jonny close and deal with the fall out later if he didn’t return their feelings, but they were in an active war zone right now.

“Jonny, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that’s not possible right now.” Bertie nudged him again, making him pout.

“Wake up, you fucking donut, we don’t have time for this right now. Can I tempt you with hugs if we survive today?” Tim shook him a bit.

That worked slightly better as Jonny frowned, then blinked blearily, before his eyes snapped open and he tumbled backwards from Berties chest into Tims. He quickly apologized: “Oh my god, I don’t know what happened there, uhm, yeah, so that’s awkward, let’s forget that ever hap-”

“Jonny.” Tim interrupted him, “It’s alright.”

“But I-”

“Just let it be, it’s fine. How about we get out of here and we’ll talk when were safe, because I don’t know about you, but I rather not get trapped in here again.” Tim said.

“Uh, I- okay?” Jonny finally agreed, cheeks bright red.

“Good.” Bertie smiled, before giving him a boost out of the fox-hole, after which he climbed out as well and pulled Tim up.

Jonny was still blushing and pointedly not looking at Bertie or Tim as they made their way back to camp, hoping to catch the Lunar Men between them and rest by surprise on the way there.

Luck was on their side and they, not swiftly but close enough, got rid of the Lunar Men that had walked over them previously. It was a short and violent battle and afterwards Jonny seemed more like himself.

They arrived in camp bloody and to the surprise of everyone, who had assumed they’d died out there with the rest.

After they had collected their rations, Jonny tried to sneak away unnoticed, but when you’re 5ft of concentrated drama that is quite hard and Tim and Bertie easily steered him to their usual hangout spot.

By the time they got there Jonny was quieter and he let himself be pushed down onto the ground, which he started to inspect in detail, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

Bertie sighed, then said: “Jonny…”

Apparently that was enough for whatever had been brewing inside him to burst out: “I’m sorry about what happened back there, I don’t even know why I did that. It was weird and I didn’t mean to do it, so don’t be mad. I won’t do it again, I promise that I won’t.”

They’d gotten a bit overwhelmed by the sudden stream of words, but now they’d gathered their bearings a bit and Bertie quickly said: “Jonny stop, stop, it’s okay, just take a breath.”

Jonny did just that, falling silent for just a moment, a moment that Tim quickly took to assure him: “We didn’t mind, Jonny, I don’t know what your brain is telling you, but it was fine.”

He and Bertie sat down on either side of Jonny. Jonny was tense and poised to leave, but he didn’t seem so stressed anymore, just uncertain.

It was quiet for a moment, then he asked: “Why?”

“What?” Bertie asked.

“Why are you two not super mad at me right now? I got between you two, literally, was annoying about it and then almost fell asleep like some sort of crazy person while we were supposed to be alert and ready and I just didn’t do all that. So why aren’t you mad at me?” Jonny was sounding very confused, a few tears beginning to form.

It broke their heart to see Jonny so confused and upset about them wanting him around. Bertie started to move, but halted the action and asked: “Can I touch you right now?”

Jonnys brow furrowed in confusion, but he nodded, which was enough for Bertie who wrapped an arm around him and said: “We’re not mad at you, because we would like nothing more than to see you comfortable and relaxed for a moment. We want to do that for you.”

Beside him Tim nodded and leaned into Jonnys space as well, making him as comfortable as possible while Jonny thought about that.

He was silent, then he softly asked: “Why would you want to do that? You already have each other and I’m just annoying.”

Bertie and Tim shared a glance, a silent agreement to beat the shit out of everyone who had made Jonny feel like that, before they focused back on the task at hand.

“Because we care about you. It might seem hard to believe in your eyes, but you are so worthy of that, sweetheart.” Tim had always been one for petnames.

“Yeah, we might love each other, but we love you too.” Bertie continued Tims starting point, “You are so soft looking and cute that I just want to wrap you into a hug and never let go and kiss you and tell you it’s all gonna be alright.”

Jonnys face now resembled a neon light with how much he was blushing as he ducked into himself slightly, soaking in their embrace while he processed that all.

Then, so soft it was almost inaudible, Jonny whispered: “I’d like that even if I can’t believe it.”

Immediately they brightened up, they had known Jonny might be insecure or even not into the whole thing, so this was a good outcome all things considered. Tim wasted no time situating Jonny between his legs, so that he could lean against his chest, while Bertie sat in front of him carefully feeding him his rations.

For a moment it seemed Jonny was going to protest against it, but Tim had wrapped his arms around him, pinning his own slightly, so he had relented and by the end his eyes were almost slipping close as he calmly accepted spoonfuls of food.

When the food was gone, Bertie helped Tim and Jonny lay on their side in the tent. The day had already been long and unpleasant and here in the middle of base camp they were at least safe enough to rest peacefully.

Tim spooned Jonny from behind and Bertie embraced him from the front, peppering his face with little pecks that made Jonny giggle. Yes, honest to god giggle, it seemed like either he was too tired to fight it or high on affection, but that didn’t stop Bertie and Tim from fawning over him until he cracked open one eye and grumbled a bit, only earning him more coos.

Jonny looked like he belonged there, his face was slack, making him look more youthful, and his limbs were warm and pliant in their arms as he hummed contently at the snuggles. Tim behind him fit too as he gently kissed the top of Jonnys head and held him tightly. Like he was made for the two of them.

Bertie admired them for a moment, then he squeezed both his boys tightly and promised: “I’m gonna make sure neither of you forget how loved you are.”

A promise he never got to keep.

#RR writing #The Mechanisms #the mechs #Jonny d'Ville #gunpowder tim #bertie (the mechs)#bertie x tim x jonny #Bertie x gunpowder Tim x Jonny d'ville #moon war #tw: mentions of war #tw: war

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rinkitsune · 4 years

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Busy Days

Tony wasn’t going to lie, he loved sex. He has been so busy lately, he hadn’t had any time to himself. He was currently in the elevator on his way up to the penthouse after a day week full of meetings. He wanted nothing more than to find his super soldier lover and have his wicked way with him. Being so busy this week had cost him his super soldier lovin’ and Tony can never forgive that. That’s not to say he hasn’t seen Bucky in a week, they fall asleep next to each every night. By the time Tony is laying in bed he falls fast asleep before he can get to the good parts of night time. Then when he wakes up in the morning with JARVIS waking him up and telling him the schedule, he’ll roll over to maybe get into so athletic morning sex, Bucky is already gone from bed on his morning run with Steve and Sam. Tony curses meetings and vows to hide away from (Pepper) them. Tony stands in the elevator feeling tingly with anticipation of the wonderful sex he is definitely going to get tonight. He wishes the elevator would hurry up to the penthouse where he hopes Bucky is waiting for him, possibly in the middle of his own ecstasy so they can get right to the good part. Breaking Tony out of his thoughts is the elevator stopping and the doors opening to (speak of the Devil) his metal armed lover.

“Hey Doll, you’re back pretty early. Done with work?”

Tony starts salivating meeting his eyes with the other brunet. He looks him up and down and Bucky is wearing low hanging sweats where those stupidly thick thighs are ready to burst out of the damn things. And wearing one of Tony’s shirts, which wouldn’t be a problem if his shirts weren’t two sizes too small for the broad shouldered man. The man’s hair is in a man bun with strings of hair falling down his face making Tony want to jump him right here. Bucky quirked an eyebrow at him, no doubt waiting for an answer from the genius.

“Yeah…” trailed off Tony. He would admit most of his brain function was down in his cock and nowhere near English words. Bucky took one look at his now pented slacks and met the geniuses eyes and gave him a filthy smirk.

“Oh sweetheart, you need somethin’?”

Bucky walked into the elevator and leaned against the back wall as the doors shut behind him, crossing his arms making his muscle bulge, not looking at Tony, smirking as the door shut. Tony jutted his lip out, not wanting to play a game and wanting his pleasure right away. Tony did his best to act casual, because there was nothing more than how much Bucky loved teasing him. From the snort that came from his left, he didn’t do a good job. However, instead of teasing him Bucky crowded him into the corner putting his knee between Tony’s legs pushing up against his erection. He let out a whimper grinding down on the gorgeously thick thigh.

“Come on use your words,” Bucky voice was a low rumble and made Tony shiver. That voice guaranteed good things to come for him.

“Buckaroo it’s been forever! I’m a genius trust me it’s been forever and a day.” Tony said plaintively.

“That’s what happens when you hide from Pepper for two months.” Bucky was chuckling at him. Tony let out a loud sigh, he hated meetings that’s why he gave Pepper the company, he just wanted to tinker. The board members were boner killing monsters and sucked the fun out of everything. Tony shifted his thoughts back to his tortuous lover. Bucky ran his hand down his body stopping to cup him through his slacks. “This f’r me?” He was turning on the Brooklyn accent. The genius didn’t stand a chance and he was brimming with excitement.

“JARVIS lock the elevator down”, Tony squeaked out. Bucky grinned down at his lover. He rubbed his palm against the length and leaned down to capture the moan coming out of the brunet’s mouth. Licking into his mouth and swallowing the noises coming out as he continued his ministrations to the smaller man. The friction was doing wondrous things to Tony and he wanted his metal arm down his pants and take his pleasure bring him to sweet ecstasy.

“James. Please, I need your hand.”

Bucky stopped his rubbing and kissed his lovers lips again, then the corner, and went down to the column of his neck. Tony threw his head back and let him nip and suck into his neck. Tony’s body was on fire and he was panting for air. The metal arm snaked to the button and zipper of his slacks and did quick work to open them and shove them down Tony’s legs. He was left standing there in his boxer that were already damp from the little playing they’ve already done.

“Nice and wet for me baby. Bet you been thinking about this all day. Bet I could’ve came right into that board meeting and fucked you in front of everyone.”

Tony could do nothing but let out a low moan, just thinking of Bucky taking his pleasure and Tony just taking it. Bucky gave his chest a kiss and went straight for a nipple sucking it into his mouth and giving it a light nip. Tony arched his chest into that sinful mouth and wrapping his arms into that ridiculous bun. Bucky gave a small humming noise and looked up to meet Tony’s eyes. Biting his lip and thrusting into nothing, Tony could barely see the dark storm cloud blue of the soldier’s eyes. Pulling away the soldier swiftly pulled the boxers down letting the geniuses cock spring free. When the air met his cock, he let out a sharp breath not prepared for the cool air. Not having to look Tony knew his cock was a leaking mess. Bucky let out a low whistle.

“Damn baby, is this all for me?”

“Fuck. Me.” Was all Tony could moan out. The look on Bucky’s face became primal and a look of determination, in one swift motion the he was swept into the air his legs wrapped around the soldiers waist. Using one arm to hold Tony up, Bucky pushed his sweat down his thighs and as he watched he was granted the view of his soldier’s thick cock hard and heavy and leaking pre come. “Looks like someone went commando today.” Tony snarked at him. Bucky made no comment, he pushed further into the V of his hips and their lengths met. Both brunet’s groaned finally having contact with each other. Both the soldier’s arm went to Tony’s luscious bubble butt and grasped his cheeks. He could already feel the bruises forming and loved every second of it. Tony met his lover’s eyes and wrapped his arms around his neck to get settled in for the ride. Leaning their foreheads together they met each other’s lips both fighting for dominance. Bucky’s tongue going inside to taste every inch of Tony’s mouth. Thrusting his hips into the geniuses their lengths lined up, the stimulation not enough for either of them. Bucky pulled back gazing lovingly at his sweet Tony. He ran his hands to Bucky’s nipples pinching them and pulling making him grunt and grind into his lover’s body. Wrapping a hand around both their cocks Tony started a slow pace, he loved the feeling of the Bucky’s cock against his.

“Shit, honey that feels like heaven.”

Both their cocks were leaking pre come, Bucky is more so than Tony’s was. Tony rubbed the pre come down both their cocks for a more easy strokes. He was grunting by the time Tony was performing fast more efficient strokes. The heat pooling in his stomach was getting stronger. Tony squeezed their cocks swiping his thumb over Bucky’s slit. Bucky started massaging his ass as his metal arm went to Tony’s hand and joined in stroking their cocks. Tony whimpered loving the masterpiece wrapped around his cock. Tony let go and went back to pinch Bucky’s nipples leaning over and licking one making it perk up under his attention. As Bucky kept stroking he felt close to the edge and on the down stroke, Tony bit one nipple and tugged on the other it was over and he came in short spurts all over Tony’s cock and stomach. He let out a breath and let go of their cocks.

“Damn Doll.”

“Yes, Yes, I’m amazing. Now get me off Winter Smolder.”

Rolling his eyes and giving a snort. He was much too coherent for Bucky’s liking. Lowering himself down to his knees, while keeping Tony pinned against the wall, he put Tony’s legs on his shoulders and his face was in Tony’s crotch. Without warning Bucky swallowed him down all the way to the neatly trimmed hair. Tony let out a sound between a gasp and a gurgle at the surprise. Serves him right, the brat. Bucky sets to work swallowing around the cock in his mouth. Tony is making the sweetest noises looking up his face is flushed and he’s biting his lip. Bobbing his head and pulling off with a pop. He licks at the slit loving the salty taste bursting on his tongue. Bucky flattens his tongue and goes down the hilt. Tony’s thighs are squeezing his head and if he was a betting man, his lover was close to coming. Renewing his efforts, he moves his head back and forth down the length creating a suction that has Tony moaning and his hands going into the dark tresses trying to keep Bucky down on his length. He lets Tony control his movements and after a few short thrusts and a low whine, Tony is coming down his throat, and Bucky is swallowing all of it like a champ. His hands go loose and Bucky carefully settles him in his lap. Licking his lips Bucky takes his fill on the debauched looking genius in front him and the heaving breaths he’s taking to come down from his ecstasy. He can’t help but feel smug at rendering the genius breathless and satisfied.

“You with me doll?”

Meeting his eyes Tony nods his head. Smiling to himself he stands up and pulls his sweats back where they should be. Picking Tony up and holding him close to where Tony can curl into his neck. “JARVIS, Penthouse. Please don’t let anyone on the elevator on the way up. I don’t think anyone wants to see Tony in his birthday suit.”

“Of course, Mr. Barnes.”

When then elevator finally makes it to their room, he strips Tony out of his shirt and lays him on the bed. He heads into the bathroom and grabbing a washcloth he heads back into the bedroom wiping himself off and stripping his own clothes crawling into bed and wiping the sleepy genius off. Throwing the washcloth in the basket he wraps his arms around Tony and gives him a kiss on the forehead.

“Love you James.” Tony mumbles into the side of his neck.

“And I love you sweetheart. Get some rest.”

With that Tony fell asleep sated and completely content.

#winteriron #kinktober #jbbkinktober2020 #nsfk #tony stark #buckytony #james bucky barnes

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notgonnarememberthis · 3 years

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find your way (back to me) - chapter six

Happy New Year!! Hope y’all are starting off the new year with health and safety for you and your families. Less than 2 weeks away from season 2 and I’m so fucking excited/anxious. Weird note, this chapter is actually the first thing I wrote for the entire story. I had the first part stuck in my head for a little over a month and threw out the concept to my best friend Em. They encouraged me to build the story and so far I’ve been so pleased with it and the reactions y’all have given. Thank you so much for reading and commenting. It really means the world to me.

Three days wears on the psyche, Gil notes in yet another confrontation report. It’d been three days since they’d found the car with Jessica’s phone inside and no sign of her except for her blood on the back window. Malcolm was quickly unraveling, it’s not hard to see. He’d slammed a reporter up against a wall for even suggesting that maybe the world was better off with another Whitly gone. With him visiting Martin the reporter got too close. It didn’t take much more for Malcolm to throw a punch.

He has two of his best cops tailing her children, taking much needed focus away. JT took on Ainsley almost immediately, after her snap with Endicott it’d become an unspoken agreement that she be kept an eye on. He has to bury his feelings every time he sees Malcolm’s hand shake uncontrollably, or when Ainsley comes back from the bathroom with her makeup absolutely perfect but her eyes still red and puffy from the tears she shed in private. It takes all of his power not to go to them and hold them close to his chest.

Every part of him aches.

Two bodies dropped since Jessica’s disappearance. Both had gunshot wounds to the back of the head. Malcolm had made the connection with the information from Martin, thank god. It didn’t take much more to connect the dots after that. They’re lucky Colette even considered it, but they were all desperate. Their time frame was 48 hours. They’re now at 56.

God, where is she?

“Oh my god!” He’s on immediate alert when he hears Ainsley’s scream followed by shouts of other officers. With his hand on his gun he races to where he’d left her and Malcolm earlier.

The room is in absolute chaos, JT is barely holding back Ainsley, her face red while she screams in protest. Several officers have their weapons drawn, Dani included. In the center of it all Malcolm stands with his hands extended, as if reaching for something.

And then he sees her. Her hair is disheveled; dirt and blood are smeared across her face. She’s barefoot, she likely lost her heels long ago. Her once white blouse is also caked in muck and grime. There’s a cloth wrapped around her thigh and one hand is cradling her side. Most startling, though, in her other hand is a knife stained crimson.

“Where is he?” She shouts, her eyes are wild. Gil’s not all that certain she even knows where she is.

“Mom, it’s me.” Malcolm steps a little closer.

“Bright, stand down.” Dani’s voice is a warning.

“It’s ok. She’s not gonna hurt me.” He breathes out slowly, as if trying to calm the entire room at once. “Give me the knife and I’ll find Gil for you. Okay?”

“No!” She springs back and the shouts erupt again.

“Lower your weapons.” Gil barks above the noise. All eyes turn to him, even Jessica’s. They’re reluctant but they obey.

“Mom.” Malcolm steps closer again, drawing her attention back to him. Her face crumples, truly seeing him now for the first time.

“Malcolm.” She sobs, the knife clattering to the floor. She pulls him into a tight hug, her voice barely carrying, “You’re ok. Thank god you’re ok.”

“I’m ok?” Malcolm chuckles humorlessly. The hug is enough for all of the weight that had been on him to crash all at once. He buries his face into her shoulder his whole frame now shaking with the sorrow he kept so tightly wrapped for days.

Once the knife is removed and bagged as evidence JT releases Ainsley and she crashes into the hug too. “Ainsley, baby.” Jessica’s voice carries as she recognizes the touch of her daughter. Her crimson stained fingers tangle in the blonde curls. He puts his gun back in his belt allowing himself to relax. He aches to join the embrace. Jessica lifts her chin and meets his eyes feeling his gaze upon them. Her face slackens, and he realizes just how pale she looks.

“Mom?” His heart drops at Ainsley’s tone, the two younger Whitly’s stumbling backwards with sudden weight. He’s on them in seconds, helping to settle Jessica gently onto the ground. The spot where she had been cradling with her free hand was spreading quickly staining her blouse red. In the embrace the cloth the she’d been holding to her fell as well.

“Call a paramedic.” He orders shucking his coat off to press against the wound. She groans in pain, eyes widening. “I’m sorry, I know.”

“What’s happening?” Malcolm’s arms come around Ainsley, stopping her from coming closer. His hands shake, he’s closed himself off again holding him and his sister together at once. His eyes are glued to his mother, his face as red as Ainsley’s.

“Where is he?” Jessica asks again, this time pleading. His eyes flash to Malcolm, confused. “Please Gil you have to find him. I tried to get him out, I tried.” He shushes her trying to get her to relax.

“Who Jess?” Her fingers grip the front of his sweater, looking around terrified. “Hey, focus. Jess, who do I need to find?” It was too late, however, her eyes slid shut and her body slumped completely against him. He holds his breath until he feels her pulse against his fingertips, strong and steady.

“She just passed out.” Malcolm assures his sister after he likely saw the look of relief cross Gil’s face. The precinct seems to remain still until the paramedics arrive and take her away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“We collected three different sources of blood on Ms. Whitly.” Edrisa remarks, though slowly, her eyes on Malcolm the entire time. She’s worried about him being there, they all are. His insistence was to stay. With Jessica in surgery, it would be a few hours before she was released. “Her own, obviously being the first. But the spots on her face and blouse were of our fourth and fifth victims, Tommy Moore and Andrew Rankin. She was likely sitting in front of them when…”

“What about the knife?” Dani asks, she’s biting the inside of her cheek, almost regretting having to ask the question. Malcolm shifts, Gil knows all too well the scene flashing through his memory.

“The blood on the knife was Ms. Whitly’s. With the help of Dr. Garcia, who is the trauma surgeon who I met in the hospital, we determined a loose thread of events.” She looks to Gil and he nods for her to continue. “We are aware of the wreck, Ms. Whitly was showing signs of a concussion upon arrival at the station and in the hospital when she briefly regained consciousness before being sedated. She likely hit her head off the window during the wreck. This is conducive with the bruising and dried blood on her right temple.” Edrisa turns back to the board she was using to present her information swallowing.

It wasn’t often that she presented the injuries of a victim who survived but after the events of today he’s exercising caution. He makes a brief note to check on her and maybe buy her lunch for her work. He knows none of this is easy but Edrisa is close to Malcolm. She understands him in a way that doesn’t quite make sense to the rest of them. She deserves to know that she’s appreciated.

“Then there’s the gunshot wound. It was likely received two days ago but opened up again when she escaped.” Gil bites the inside of his cheek thinking privately to himself. She’s lucky she didn’t bleed out. The old stab would on his own abdomen aches with the sympathy of that pain. One he wishes she never knew. “Next we have some yellowed bruising across her cheekbone and under her left eye. It suggests that she was hit. With the scrape on her cheek I would assume the perpetrator wore a ring when doing so.” She checks her notes again adjusting the glasses that slid down the bridge of her nose. “The large bruise on her forehead suggests that she hit her attacker. With her wrists and legs bound I would assume she headbutt him.”

Malcolm’s laugh catches them all by surprise. He shouldn’t get as much glee out of the moment as he does; but imagining prim and proper Jessica Whitly slamming her head against her captor is more satisfying than anything. “Sorry.” He mutters muffling a further laugh with his palm.

Edrisa relaxes slightly at that. “Finally we have the wound in her leg. She was stabbed, obviously. But the wound pattern along with some small cuts on her wrist suggest that she pulled it out herself.”

“She saw her opportunity. Her captor left the knife and she cut the ties around her wrists and ankles to escape.” Malcolm nods in agreement with Edrisa’s assessment.

“Holy shit.” JT mutters. “How the hell did she get back here without anyone taking her to the hospital or calling the cops?”

“That we won’t know. The doctors have my mother under sedation, for now. She’s undergoing her second surgery now, she’s severely dehydrated, and was delirious when she woke up in the hospital.”

“Shouldn’t you be with Ainsley?” Dani asks slowly. “Your mom needs you.”

“My mother needs me to find who did this to her before he strikes again.” Malcolm snaps. Dani grits her teeth but nods.

“What about the guy Ms. Whitly was talking about before she lost consciousness?” JT shifts, eyes combing over the file in front of him. “Do we have any idea who it could be?”

“We can only assume it is another missing person. Until she’s coherent enough to talk to us, we won’t know for certainty. Until we find the guys we are looking for I want detail on all of the Whitly’s until further notice. With her reaction earlier we can only assume that Malcolm and Ainsley were the next targets if Jess didn’t participate in what the killers wanted.” He turns to Edrisa, “Thank you Dr. Tanaka. Keep us updated if Dr. Garcia contacts you with any more information.”

“Yes sir.”

“Colette and her team are canvassing the area now. She couldn’t have made it far without being noticed by a concerned stranger. Dani, I want you and JT looking through missing persons. See if there’s any new disappearances that could be our missing man.”

“What do you want me to do?” Malcolm sits up straight, alert.

“We’re going back to the hospital.” He holds up his hand when Malcolm stammers to protest. “Ainsley needs you right now, more than anything. Not to mention once your mother wakes up she’ll need a face she can trust. Something scared her into coming here with a knife. I have a bad feeling.” Malcolm nods in agreement, though he still doesn’t look too pleased with the information.

He can’t shake the feeling in his gut that they’re missing some key information. He only hopes that Jessica will wake and tell them before it is too late.

#jessica whitly x gil arroyo #gil arroyo x jessica whitly #prodigal son #jessica whitly #gil arroyo #prodigal son AU #fanfic #kidnapping au #notgonnarememberthis fics #malcolm bright #Ainsley Whitly

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godlyborn · 3 years

Text

starting over. / ellie & ben.

date: june 21, 2021 summary: ellie and ben talk

Ellie knocked on the door to Ben's apartment, hoping that he wasn't busy. Ellie had been doing better, not the best, but definitely better the last few months. The biggest thing that was on her mind now was what went down with her and Ben the night they broke up. Ellie felt sick to her stomach just thinking about it, and she knew she needed to apologize, actually apologize. She remembers vaguely something about it after a day of drinking, but to Ellie, whatever that apology was, it didn't count. When the door opened, Ellie smiled slightly, as if that was to say sorry for showing up unannounced. "Hey, uh, have time to talk?" she asked.

The door almost closed in Ellie’s face, but Ben caught it and stepped a little closer. He let the wood rest against his shoulder and shoved his hands into his pockets. She wasn’t the absolute last person he expected to see, but she was close. And the question made him more than a little nervous. Talk about what? The run-in with Patrick from days before flashed through his head. “Um...” Ben glanced down when he heard a small beep at his feet. “Yeah,” he finally answered. He crouched down to pick up his cat, then pushed the door open even more with his back. “Do you... want to come in?”

Ellie stood there for a moment. She was nervous, why was she so nervous? Her mouth felt dry, she debated on whether she was actually ready for this. She needed to do this, he deserved this. "Do you want me to come in?"

Ben laughed a little and nodded. He decided she probably wasn't here because of her brother. But that meant she was here for something else, something he couldn't guess, so his stomach didn't unknot. “Yes, definitely, you can come in. I didn’t mean to sound like you were holding me at gunpoint or something,” he said, smiling at her. “I was just... surprised to see you.”

"Yeah, uh, sorry I just showed up," Ellie said. "I just would've chickened out if I planned any of this out, honestly."

That was alarming, and Ben focused his gaze on the cat in his arms in order to control his expression. “Fair,” he said weakly. “It’s okay, I’m just hanging out today. And Jacob is out so we can stay in the living room.” As opposed to what, going to his bedroom? Ben scolded himself silently for even implying it. She looked nervous enough. “Do you want water? Oh, and this is Frank.” Ben lifted his arms slightly, eliciting a small mew from the cat. “I don’t think you met.”

Ellie nodded slightly at his cat's direction. She twisted her fingers around themselves. "No, I'm uh, I'm okay," she replied. "I just, I wanted to kind of talk about our breakup and everything, when I'm sober."

“Oh.” Ben walked further into the living room and let Frank drop into the armchair, then leaned against it. He left the couch for Ellie, giving her space if she wanted it. “Okay. Sure.”

Ellie took a seat on the edge of the couch, unsettled slightly. "That night, it was a mess, to say the least," she said. "I wasn't doing well, I didn't do well for a long time, and I kind of put me over the edge. How I treated you thought, it's not an excuse, and I really am sorry about it, Ben. It shouldn't have happened."

Ben wished Ellie had said yes to water so he could have gotten one himself, and have something to do with his hands. Lacking anything to hold on to, they pressed into his jeans, rubbing small circles into his thighs. "I, um..." He worked his jaw and nodded again. "Yeah. I..." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Sorry. I understand what you're trying to do. But it feels wrong to accept an apology when I— when I caused all that hurt."

Ellie frowned, this is what she feared. She wished sometimes that Ben had felt he deserved more than everything he was dealt. "Ben, I..." Ellie started, trying to find the right words. "No," she stated. "You did a shitty thing, a really shitty thing, and I didn't deserve. I wish you hadn't. That doesn't mean that you deserved what happened. No matter what you did, no one should hit you." It was like she was a different person when that happened. Parts of her didn't feel like it was her that hit Ben, but it was. "Don't ever believe that you deserved to be hit Ben, because you don't.”

"I—" Ben blinked a few times and looked away from her. Something heavy settled in his chest. "I know that, El," he said quietly, his voice going distant. "I just meant— I wasn't trying to say that I deserved it. Just..." He rubbed his brow, as if he might be able to dislodge his thoughts into something coherent. "Ugh, this is hard to talk about."

Elliot nodded in agreement at his later statement. This was hard. “I’m just saying, that everything that happened during that time, it wasn’t all you. All that pain, it was so much more, it wasn’t just you. Things were happening, that I don’t know where to even start, that I told no one about, not even Caspar, or Chase and Jesse, for a long time. Honestly, what happened to us was kind of the least of everything. I don’t know if that makes you feel better or anything.”

A small smile stretched over Ben's face, but it didn't last as Ellie continued to explain herself. Eventually, he looked back to her and shook his head. "It doesn't." The weight in his chest seemed to get even heavier. "Honestly, it just makes me think that... I was making it worse. I was so... I was dealing with a lot, too, and I handled it like shit. If you can believe it, I thought I was sparing your feelings by going behind your back. Which..." A humorless laugh slipped out of his mouth. "Gods, that was fucking stupid."

Ellie let out a small, awkward laugh with him and shook her head. “It was kind of stupid, not going to lie,” she replied. “I wish you would’ve told me it wasn’t working out. To be honest though, it probably would’ve imploded on my end within the last year, most things were. I could barely look Chase in the eyes for months because I was just so ashamed.” She leaned on her knees, twisting her fingers around each other, looking at her hands for a moment. “My pain, it wasn’t your fault. Maybe if everything didn’t happen, I would’ve handled it better. I just I don’t know, I kind of lost it, and then it was happening and it didn’t even feel like I was the one doing it, it was like I was watching myself do it, y’know?” She sighed and then shrugged, not sure if she was making any sense. “And you asked to talk outside, and I probably should’ve, I just, I didn’t feel safe to go alone somewhere with you because I knew if I had, I would’ve pretended it wasn’t a big deal. In turn, I hurt you, and that was wrong.”

Ben nodded. "That makes sense," he said. "I get it. I wasn't trying to make excuses that night, I just needed to... I wanted to get away from the noise and crowd and... honestly," he cringed, "your brothers. I'm not trying to say that I, I got what was coming or anything, El, but I just... we both fucked up, but I fucked up a lot more." After another pause, he continued, more careful and wary. "Um, can I ask... why you decided to talk about this, um, now?"

Ellie nodded, “I guess that makes sense, I heard what happened between you, Jesse, and Chase,” she replied. She shrugged at the last question. “I’ve been, uh, going to therapy, and I realized we never really talked about it, and never apologized when I was sober, or when I wasn’t going through an insane amount of stuff. I thought you deserved a more sincere apology.”

He cringed again. Of course she knew, he'd be shocked if she didn't know, but the reminder was unpleasant. Ben controlled his expression, though, as Ellie started to explain herself some more. "That's..." He released a breath and gave her a small smile. "I'm really glad you're going to therapy, El. Um—" he stared into the space above her head, thinking carefully before he spoke, then looked at her again. Despite himself, he maintained eye contact, trying to give her just as sincere a reply. "And I appreciate that. I'm glad you're doing better."

"Thanks," she said, considering his last statement. "And like I said before, you totally do not need to forgive me, I just wanted you to know," Ellie said, even though it made her feel weird, feeling like even though she apologized, it didn't make her feel better. It made her feel like she didn't deserve any forgiveness, much like many other things. She was still pretty confused on that part. "I do hope that maybe one day we could be friends?"

Ben shrugged. "It's already forgiven," he said. This still felt wrong, but clearly she was struggling with guilt, and it felt more wrong to let her keep wrestling with it. He knew what it felt like, and she didn't deserve that. "And I hope that, too, El." He took a risk and walked over to her, sitting next to her on the couch. "I— I consider myself really lucky that you want me in your life at all."

Ellie turned to look at him when he took a seat next to her. She smiled slightly at his comment. She didn't quite know why it sent butterflies through her when he looked at her still. "I'm not sure if we'll ever be what we were, I don't know how to really trust you when it comes to that, but I think that I can still trust you as a friend, even with the history."

Okay, he deserved that. The comment stung, but she was right, and he knew that. Ben nodded, glancing down to the space between them on the couch. Muscle memory alone nearly made his hand slide over to find hers, but he stopped it before he could move and give himself away. "I agree. I think we work, uh, better as friends. That..." he chuckled quietly, "sounds cliche, but. I mean it."

Ellie let out a small laugh, wiping her palms on her knees, slightly anxious. “I’m glad,” she said, looking up at him. It was weird but it felt like he was different. She wasn’t sure if it was because of what they both went through this past year, or if somehow he looked like a weight was lifted from him. She hoped that it was the latter, though their bad blood, she still believed that Ben deserved some peace for once in his life. Ellie let out a shaky breath, a small chuckle escaping her lips. Ellie was never able to hide anything from Ben. “Are you okay? You know, with everything? I know that it’s not my place to really worry about you anymore, but I do. I don’t think that part will ever go away.”

Okay was relative. He was doing better, he thought, overall. The past few days had been rough, but Ben didn't really want to bring up that Ellie's brother was giving him nightmares. It felt like it might ruin the moment, or make things worse for him. Still, he wasn't lying when he told her, "I'm doing okay." If this had been a year ago, this might have wrecked him. "I, uh, I'm going to therapy, too. My roommate kinda bullied me into it," he said with another tiny laugh. "It's really helped me, um, make sense of a lot of things."

Ellie nodded slightly at Ben. "I am happy for you Ben, really," she said. She was kind of jealous that his roommate got him going to therapy, when she hoped that for him for years. Ellie thought she didn't push too hard, in fear of pushing him away or looking like a hypocrite. "I'm hope you get the answers that you need out of that."

Ben shrugged and glanced away from her, uncomfortable despite himself. "Me, too," he replied. He leaned back into the couch and made himself look at Ellie, maintain eye contact. "I hope the same for you, too."

Ellie's eyes met his, and she melted. Ellie hated how he could do that to her with one look. She was silent, the room didn't have tension, it was just silent. She cleared her throat. "Uh, I should, uh, go?"

He didn't realize he was staring (a little more than an ex-boyfriend should) until Ellie broke the still, quiet moment between them. A small frown tugged at Ben's mouth. He thought about saying she could stay, but Ben couldn't think of a reason why that wasn't strange or perhaps crossing a boundary. "I— Okay. Sure."

Ellie felt like Ben had something on the tip of his tongue, just by the way he paused and responded. "Unless, you want me to stay," she said. Ellie wasn't entirely sure what to do in this situation.

Ben's chest tightened. "I just, don't want you to feel like you... have to leave?" He sighed and shook his head, trying to play the weirdness off. "But I'll... I guess I should, um, warm up a bit before band practice."

Ellie let out a small laugh, probably not the most appropriate time, but it was ironic. He didn't want her to feel like she had to leave, and here she was thinking he was uncomfortable with her being here. "I just, sorry, I just figured you might be uncomfortable with me here or something," she replied. "I uh," she let out a sigh through her nose. "Let's try to start over, yeah? Uh, do you think it would be okay if I stay and listen to you warm up?"

The way she'd been sitting there, looking like a wound up spring, made him think that she would grab at the first opportunity to leave. This was entirely unexpected. His first worry was— regrettably— what Chase would think. Then Koda, and then, Patrick. He was sure the nightmares would only get more intense if Ellie even mentioned this conversation. As much as he was trying not to worry about it, that gave him the quickest, smallest pause. But it didn't matter, because he was already nodding. "Sure. Yeah, let me, um," he stood, "I'll get my guitar."

#discord #d:ellie #d:ellieben #elliot #ellieben

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joaquinfeed · 4 years

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[AU] Arthur Takes You To Prom HC's (Arthur Fleck x Reader)

Prompt: Just as the title says. :) Prom fluff AU. I didn't go into a lot of depth. Just a short little thing I thought of!

As soon as Arthur saw you in school, he thought you were stunning. You were the only person in the entire place that was nice to him. That, to him, was the most beautiful thing about you.

He knew prom was coming up, but he always figured he would never go. Who would want to go with him?

He secretly hoped, wished, and almost prayed that you would ask him.

If you did end up asking him to prom, he'd nearly fall over in shock. He wouldn't be able to understand why you asked him of all people.

His eyes widened, and he glanced around the hallway for any listeners. "Is- is this some sort of joke?"

"No! Of course not Arthur," you said. "I would never do that to you. Ever."

For weeks afterward, or up until prom, he would watch every facial expression you had and listen to every comment you made about the dance. He was so nervous that it was some big, elaborate plan you've created to make a fool out of him.

He knew you better than that. He knew you weren't like the others. You were so kind and compassionate. You listened to him. He loved that.

If he worked up the courage to ask you to prom first though, that's a different story.

He'd plan for weeks what we was going to say to you.

"You won't back out today," he whispered to himself while pacing the hallway by his locker. "You have to ask. You have to."

He walked over to you nervously, holding a single red rose behind his back. You looked up at him, curiosity playing on your face. Before he realized it, he was stammering out sentences that were barely coherent while tapping his foot against the marble floor.

"Do- I mean- would you-... I'd really like it if-"

Arthur tried to make the words come out, but your beautiful eyes looking back at him made him choke up further. He could feel the onset of laughter rising up in his throat like bile.

People started to gather around you both. His eyes darted back and forth between the crowd and you. Before you could do anything to ease his nerves, he shoved the flower towards you and blurted out the words 'for prom.'

You were so happy, the chattering around you seemed to fade away. You couldn't do anything but say yes.

People made fun of him. Rumors and talk about his 'promposal' could he heard at every corner of the school. You despised the way people treated him. If someone so much as looked at him wrong, you were on full protect mode.

Ultimately it didn't matter who asked who, you were both so extremely excited to be going with one another.

As soon as Arthur was convinced that you really wanted to go with him, he'd be saving up money for a suit. He wanted to look handsome for you; he wanted you to feel like you made the right choice.

You would be equally as willing to dress nice for Arthur. It's no secret you wanted to impress him as well.

On the night of the prom, he'd pick you up-- insiting that he be the one to come get you.

The fact that he couldn't drive and didn't have a car? Yeah, he didn't think that through.

As unconventional as it was, you took the subway to your prom. Arthur didn't want you to do any of the work that night, so even if you could drive, he wouldn't let you.

All night, he wouldn't be able to stop telling you how good you looked.

"You look perfect," he blushed, eyeing your outfit. "I don't know why you're here with me."

"I know why," you replied with certainty. "You look just as perfect."

When it came to the actual dancing part? Oh, this was Arthur's favorite part of the night. Well, except seeing you for the first time, and holding your hand, and hearing your laugh, and anything else having to do with you.

The night was filled with upbeat songs that Arthur danced to until his legs threatened to fall off. Although the music wasn't his style--he was definitely into older tunes--he appreciated the art in any form.

He'd beg you to dance with him. If you did, he'd spin you around the dance floor as other people watched in amusement. If you weren't much of a dancer, he'd let you watch as he 'showed you his moves.'

As soon as a slow song came on though, he'd shyly ask if you want to dance with him.

He led you onto the dance floor, and guided your hands to his shoulders before resting his nicely on your waist.

"Thank you for tonight," he said just loud enough for you to hear. "I'll never forget it."

"Me neither," you said. "But maybe we don't have to. We could, you know, spend time together outside of tonight."

"Really?"

You nod before leaning to press a kiss to his cheek. You hoped that it was okay to do that. Once you saw Arthur's burning cheeks and beaming smile, you knew that it was.

The night came to a close. Close meaning you dipped out of the prom to go get something to eat with Arthur. He said he was hungry, and who were you to deny him?

At the small restaurant, you almost had more fun there than at the dance. Arthur was glad to have you alone and away from the loud environment of school.

He'd tell you about his aspirations to become a comedian; he even cracked a few jokes--all of which you found hilarious.

"Why didn't the skeleton go to prom?"

"Why?"

"He had no body to go with."

The whole restaurant was surely glaring at you both for the level of noise coming from your table. Between laughter, jokes, and story telling, it was way past curfew before Arthur finally got you home.

Standing awkwardly in front of your place, neither of you knew what to do. Should you say goodnight? Should you kiss? What was appropriate? What wasn't?

Arthur wasn't sure which one of you leaned in first, but he could feel your bodies inching closer.

Before he could lose his nerve, he quickly pushed his head forward to capture your lips. Only, he didn't capture your lips. Instead, he felt his forehead collide with yours before he could stop it.

"Shit!" "Ow"

You both glanced back up at one another, holding your aching heads, before smiles started to tug at the corners of your mouths. Before you knew it, you were both laughing.

"I'm- I'm so sorry," Arthur said in between fits of genuine laughter. He couldn't help but blush once again at his mistake. "Did I hurt you?"

"Only a little. A kiss might make it better," you joked, and he hesitantly placed a kiss on the sore part of your forehead. "Hm, my lips hurt too."

"Now you seem to be the comedian," Arthur smiled. This time, he leaned in slowly and gently placed his lips onto yours. You both melted into the kiss, bringing your hands up to cup each other's faces.

Everything about the night went as perfect as you would've hoped. Arthur asked you not once, not twice, but three times if you enjoyed yourself. You happily answered that you did all three times.

Prom truly was a special night for you now.

However, It didn't compare to the night a few weeks later when Arthur asked you to officially be his.

#joaquin phoenix #joaquin phoenix joker #joker #joker 2019 #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck imagine #joker imagine

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bambinovak · 4 years

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Late Morning Rush — Sam Winchester

summary; in which one stanford student finds herself late for one of her classes and takes the shortcut through the library. instead, she meets sam, and the raging blush on her cheeks and the shy smiles that are exchanged make her later than ever - but she doesn’t mind, not at all. [201017]

warnings; swearing

word count;1.6k

masterlist

YOUR NORMAL, CONSECUTIVE morning routine never changed. Your annoying alarm tone screeching in your ears and provoking an over-dramatic groan to tumble from your lips as you considered staying in bed all day and not going to class. Today, that routine had been broken. There was an eerie absence of an alarm, not that you (piled under your blankets and snoring ever so softly) noticed.

You had woken up naturally, your eyes fluttering open and an inevitable yawn escaping. You found yourself burying your head further into the solace of your soft, feathery pillow to shade your irises from the sun's warm rays that seeped in through the window. You had almost fell back asleep, feeling so warm and comfortable, until a thought striked.

It was incredibly sunny for eight o'clock in the morning. In the middle of November.

The sudden realisation made your heart jump and spelled any sleep from your body. Your eyes snapped open and you shot up, flailing slightly as you shoved the blankets from you.

Your hands snatched up your phone from its place on your bedside table and roughly pressed the power button; the screen lit up and you eyed the illuminated numbers. 9:56 am. You had exactly four minutes to make it your psychology class. Your professor already thought bad of you for forgetting to hand in one essay a few weeks ago and being late, again, would just pile onto his list of reasons why he couldn't tolerate you. Plus, there was no way that anyone could do anything in under four minutes.

"Fuck," The curse fell from your lips in mumbles and then, the late morning rush began.

Haphazardly brushing the knots out of your hair, another inevitable string of curse words followed but eventually, you managed to throw your silky hair up into a ponytail. You shoved your glasses onto your face, knowing that you wouldn't have time to sit and poke at your eyes with your contacts before trying your best to brush your teeth and rummage through your closet for something to wear coherently, but simultaneously.

Four minutes had come and gone and it was already 9:20 am by the time you had successfully chapped your lips with your peach flavoured chapstick, grabbed all your books and slammed your door closed with a shallow huff, the puff of air whisking the loose, unkempt strands of hair that delicately framed your features around.

Your jean clad legs carried you rapidly down the corridors full of fatigued and enervated students, taking their time and trudging down the halls exasperatingly slow. Taking a quick break from dodging all the sluggish bodies, you eyed the busy stairway with narrowed orbs, mapping the grounds of the vast complex out in your mind - highlighting the quickest route to your class, instead.

When you were struck with the idea, you almost cursed at yourself again for not thinking of it sooner before taking off into a jog to the doors of the ample library that sat in the heart of Stanford's grounds. You flung the heavy, glass doors open and winced when your librarian shot you an irritated glare and grumbled under her breath at the sudden noise breaking through the comfortable quietness.

However, you continued on your trek when she finally looked away, peering down at her computer with a huff. Glancing swiftly at the big clock hanging on the far right wall, you didn't realise that you were heading straight into a firm chest until it was too late and a quiet yelp escaped past your lips and your books tumbled from your arms. They scattered across the floor with a thud, surely earning another scowl from the librarian but you were far too flustered to care at that point.

"Oh god! I'm sorry!" You immediately found yourself bending down, attempting to collect all your books quickly as you let out an embarrassed chuckle. You kept your head down, making sure the bits of loose hair covered the heat rising to your cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay - my fault," Came the deep reply and your breath hitched in your throat at the unfamiliar but captivating sound. The faint hue of pink that tainted the apples of your cheeks deepened considerably as you gingerly glanced up at the tall boy through your lashes.

Then, came the stutters that fell from your lips as your fingers subconsciously came up to gently push your crooked glasses back up the bridge of your nose and set them straight. "No, really - I... I was late and wasn't looking where I was going. I-I'm so sorry. I'm literally a walking disaster, jeez."

The sound of his deep laugh filled your ears at your shy ramblings before he held out his arm towards you; your wide eyes tentatively followed his movement to where one of your books held delicately in his large hand and a sweet smile edged at the corners of his lips.

Another wave of heat blossomed across your features at his simple, kind action, setting your skin aglow once again. "Uh - thank you," Shyly chuckling, you took the book from him - trying desperately to ignore and not acknowledge the fact that your fingers lightly brushed against his during collection.

Seeming to have forgotten that you had somewhere to be, you sent him a gentle and kind smile before snatching up the brave attribute that lingered in the air and deciding to take a leap of faith. "So, I... Um- I haven't seen you around here before," You commented, being completely honest. You were pretty sure that if you had seen the particularly tall boy, his piercing hazel eyes and his dark locks before, you'd sure as hell would've remembered it.

His captivating smile widened as he peered down at you, his hazel irises holding yours endearingly, "Yeah, I moved here recently." You nodded along with him, not sure what you should say next until he spoke up again, his tone teasing, "Could use some help getting to know the campus, though."

And although you were pretty sure that he was directing his comment towards you, you couldn't help but feel uneasy and out of place to be making suggestions. However, you decided to brave through your query nevertheless, "W-well, I could - uh... I could show you around, maybe, sometime?" With raging red colouring your cheeks once again, your shy gaze travelled back to the floor - embarrassed by the clumsiness of your stutters.

You found yourself readjusting the mass of books in your arms and continuously tucking strands and wisps of your soft hair behind your ear every so often as a distraction from the bumbling mess that you'd put yourself in. His quiet laugh rang through your ears and your eyes snapped up to meet his - terrified that he was laughing at you. But, when his hazel caught your (y/e/c), you knew that wasn't the case and the hot blush painting your features slowly began to fade.

"I'd like that," His teeth delicately encased his bottom lip as he tried to reign in the grin that was threatening to take over his features as he listened to you adorably ramble away. "I'm Sam."

You let out a calm and almost relieved breath of air that you didn't realise you were keeping imprisoned as he introduced himself. "Sam," You spoke gently, his name rolling off your tongue as you tested it out. It suited him, you unspokenly decided. He, also, unspokenly decided that he liked the way his name tumbled from your lips, adequate with hope, potential, promise.

"(Y/N)," You muttered with a sweet smile plastered on your lips, the bashful and reserved feelings from prior completely erased. The way he peered down at you and the smile tugging at his lips, you felt at ease with him already. You could tell he was nothing but nice. A breath of fresh air. And he was undeniably cute.

"Well, (Y/N), can I walk you to whatever is left of the class you were basically sprinting to earlier?" The grin written on his lips widened, a deep chuckle in his throat as he eyed your reaction.

"Oh, shit," Came the reply once you looked towards the large, ticking clock. Your eyes widened. But truth was, despite your words of realisation, you couldn't find it in yourself to really care that you had missed yet another class. Letting a breathy laugh escape, you gave Sam an innocent smile, accompanied by an innocuous shrug of your shoulders. "Well, I only have ten minutes of that class left, anyway. I could skip the rest? For you," Impressed by your sudden surging confidence and boldness, you found yourself chuckling under your minty breath at your words right after. Sam, himself, was also slightly stunned by your change of persona - the confidence and courage suddenly rolling off you in waves had him attracted to you even more so now.

"You'd skip just for me?" He repeated, the mock of an astonished tug at his lips presented itself, "I'm honoured."

A bubble of laughter escaped, accompanied by an amused roll of your eyes and a teasing smirk, "Well, you've already kept me here long enough. You're a bad influence."

"Hm," He hummed lightly, jokingly agreeing with your statement. "Lead the way," Sam beamed blissfully, gesturing for you to take the lead. His eyes followed you as you turned around, glancing over your shoulder at him with a glint in your eyes. He was compelled to trail after you through the busy library, his stomach doing flips with excitement.

What a morning, you both found yourselves thinking, feeling optimistic in the most delightful way.

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thepartingglassofthorin · 3 years

Text

Of Beginnings

When Thorin awoke in the morning, a kink in his neck was present, along with the feeling of guilt and dread. He was back among the living, and he remembered every moment of the journey; from insulting Bilbo at Bag End to asking for his pardon as he lay dying on the River Running. Those memories had haunted him in his dream state, causing him to gain little sleep.

He peeled himself off the straw mattress, finding sunlight was flooding through the barred window behind the Guard's desk. The Guard himself was leaned back in his chair, his book on his chest as he dozed lightly. The Dwarf King could hear the bustle of life outside of the prison, a pleasant smell wafted in from the vendors, causing his stomach to howl loudly. Thorin attempted to smooth his hair down while stifling a yawn, trying to ignore the worsening pains in his stomach.

The Guard continued to doze, a gentle snore coming from his round face, growing louder as the day past from early morning to early afternoon. By the time he had awoken, the morning vendors had sold their wares and goods, packed up and the afternoon vendors had all set up for their shift.

The door flung open, a brisk cold air nearly put out the embers in the fireplace as the guard from the night before stood in the doorway, his cloak held in the crook of his arm, the bright smile on his face grew as he waltzed up to the desk.

The Hobbit guard sat upright at the first instance of noise, drawing a knife from under the desk in his alarmed state, placing it back as his friend strode up.

"Guess who's gotten lucky, Tookie," He said with a smirk. The Hobbit glared at him as he rubbed his head, pulling himself to sit upright in his chair.

When he didn't respond, he continued, "I can see it now, eleven kids, just outside of Bree, in a little quaint cottage-"

"Do you have any clue what time it is," The Hobbit yawned, stretching his good arm up over his head.

"Oh, sorry. I was out celebrating with her Brothers most of the night, and-"

"You can tell me later," He interrupted, rapping on the desk. "You about you take this dwarf home, and then you can tell me about it tomorrow after I've slept in my own bed!"

The Prancing Pony stood with a gloomy look. The paint was peeling, and the roof whistled with small holes in the thatch, while the sign creaked slowly as it swayed in the wind.

The Guard, who's name was Stephen, held the door open for Thorin as they entered the dusty Inn, his joyful attitude only worsened Thorin's foul one.

The Inn was busy with staff as they prepared for the night rush of customers, Thorin almost ran into a waitress carrying a bus of mugs back into the kitchen as he entered, Stephen said a cheerful hello as she disappeared behind the door.

"Isn't it a little early for Drinks Stephen," A tender asked as he leaned over the counter. "You haven't even asked her yet," He added as Stephen laughed.

"No, it's never too early for drinks," He chuckled, leaning on the counter with his back to the tender. "But I can't right now, perhaps after my shift."

The Tender leaned upright almost immediately. "Oh? Who've you brought back today? Fredrik again?" He leaned further over the counter to look at Thorin. "That boy is gonna find himself-" His brows creased as he saw Thorin, a frown becoming more defined the longer the two stared at each other.

"Your things are out back, sir," He said gruffly, with a jerk of his thumb towards his left. "Payment is two gold."

With a stifled growl, Thorin gave his payment and went to gather his things. As he walked out the door, he could hear the two men return to their merrymaking. He quickly grabbed his things, wiping the muck from his sacks before he set them on his back.

He was late, by almost two days. He had walked before, but this time was different. He couldn’t mess up, he refused to let this quest fail as the one before had. He couldn't shake the dread that laid in the pit of his stomach, try as he might. He didn’t understand any of it. The way Auel had tricked him, and then shoved him through the doorway without giving him a moment to think about his already hastily made decision.

Why wasn’t he able to know he was in the Halls of Waiting, why was it so dark and dreary?

The more his thoughts lingered on those unanswered questions, the more his stomach squirmed. Something wasn’t right with all this, and he had to figure out what!

The night was cold, colder then it should be mid April, but it was ok. Thorn knew some spring nights were temperamental.

But this was too cold. He opened his eyes and found himself staring at his toes. His bare toes.

The King leapt to his feet, he had been resting against a tree. Cold snow crunched under foot, he yelped in surprise and went to sit back down, only to lean all the way back, the tree having never been there.

Now thoroughly covered in snow, the Cold King’s mind scrambled for an explanation. He had only intended to sit and rest against the old oak on his way, the very same tree he had slept underneath on his last trip.

Snow crunched not so far away, Thorin pulled himself out of the snow and started to brush off his clothes, only to realize he wasn’t wearing what he had been. Of course he hadn’t, otherwise his boots would still adorn his feet! His fur lined vest and blue tunic were replaced with a white tunic, tucked into white trousers of the same fabric. Despite their thinness, Thorin realized he wasn’t as cold, or as wet, as he should have been.

He also realized that he didn’t have any sort of weapon on him.

“Come this way!”

The King whirled around, looking for the source of the feminine voice, the crunching snow coming closer and closer.

“Where are you,” he hissed. The collar of his shirt was yanked from behind in response. He landed in a deep snow bank, tumbling backwards through the snow as he slid down the hill. He came to a stop finally and laid in the snow for a moment. As far as he could tell the crunching was a well ways off now, but for all he could see, they could have watched him tumble down the hill and be laughing at him. Snow rose above his body by about a foot and a half.

The crunching came back, this time much closer, Thorin peeled himself out of the snow and sat up, peering out towards the crunching.

A young dwarrowdam made her way through the snow towards Thorin, her white gown hung loosely and seemed to shimmer against the moonlight. Her golden coils hung loose as well, and she smiled brightly at him, offering a small hand once she reached the snow covered king. Her bright blue eyes showed genuine joy, and reminded Thorin of someone, although he couldn’t place the name.

”It’s a pleasure to finally see you again,” she said, her voice was quiet, as if she didn’t want to break the stillness of the night.

Thorin took her hand and stood, trying to recall whom this was. It felt like a deep buried memory, but he couldn’t remember.

“We haven’t much time,” she hurried, pulling him towards a small farmhouse across the snowy field, her stature hid her strength well as Thorin almost fell into the snow again, not having a chance to reply or pull his hand from her grip.

He looked back at the snow bank he had fallen down and saw no trace of his fumble, or any sort of disturbance. "What sort of trickery is this," He mumbled to himself.

"It is no trickery, Thorin." She pulled him behind a hay cart and watched as three approached the door, they seemed to shimmer in the night with their silver cloaks. There was no light that they needed, for warmth or guidance. "This event will change your life, and it is important you understand it."

Thorin turned to her, a scowl across his face. "Who are you? You seem well acquainted with me, and yet I don't even know your name!"

"Shhhee!"

The tallest of the three stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door, he stooped under the roof and if the Master of the Farm let him inside, he would have to bend over to enter the humble home. All three lowered their hoods as they awaited the Master of the Farm, they shone with eerie brilliance, certainly not of Arda.

The darkness within the house vanished as a lantern was lit, it made its way down from the top floor as the tall one knocked again. A groggy voice responded, nothing really coherent.

Soon enough, the lantern was set by the window and the few latches were undone. The door opened to reveal a tall man, hardly past his twenties. He had red hair and freckles across his face, with bright green eyes. He wore a well loved robe, but that was it. He was built like a barrel, but wasn't flabby, what little bit of him Thorin could see was all muscle.

He held the lantern out at them, his face slowly turning sour the longer they stood in silence.

"Well? What reason have you to wake my wife and I up at this awful hour?"

"We seek shelter for the moment," The one on the porch said. "We are brothers, and ask your permission to warm our hands before we continue on our way."

The man eyes the bundle in the shortest' arms suspiciously, moving the lantern towards it. "And what of that? A sack of rutabagas perhaps?"

The one holding the bundle laughed, Thorin recognized it instantly and looked at his companion, worry etched on his face.

She looked back, slyly with a smirk pulling up one corner of her mouth.

”Nay, but she might look like one,” Auel said gently, stepping forward and showing the bundle to the man.

He hissed like someone had laid a hot fire poker across his backside, quickly setting the lantern down and taking the bundle from Auel.

”Are you insane,” He seethed, thumping came down the stairs as someone else joined the throng. Auel and his company moved inside, the shorter staying by the door and looking out at Thorin, the same sly smirk came over his shadowy face before he turned to make a comment to someone.

Thorin’s lady friend grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the slightly open door, lights began to shine within the house as more lanterns were lit. A quiet infantile cry came from the home as well, Thorin hoped that the man hadn’t any children whom had been woken up.

Thorin pulled his hand from hers, she stopped and beckoned him on, he frowned and cross his arms.

”What is the meaning of all this,” He asked, gesturing at the farm around him. She stood straight and strode over to him, not meeting his eyes. “Am I dead or not?” She took his hands in hers and looked at their calloused palms, her small fingers tracing the scars and lines on his hands. “I recall this farm from my younger days, but what purpose does it have in saving Fili and Kili?”

She finally met his eyes, sorrow filled his soul as she stared at him.

“Trust is not in your nature,” she spoke softly. The homestead seemed to shift and change as she spoke. Thorin felt as if he couldn’t keep his balance, like he was on a tightrope being shook from both ends. The land surrounding him flickered, a celebration appeared, love and warmth entered his heart. Before he could come to know what it was, the scene changed again, the farmhouse, barn, and hay shed all erupted in flames, screams, fear, terror, the roof of the home collapsed as a specific scream pierced the burning sky.

“But please,” She held his fingers tightly, bringing the scene back to the silent snowy field. “You must trust me and Auel with this. It will not be easy, or comfortable, but we both will be there, every step of the way.”

She looked up at him, her face as blank as a stone.

With a ragged sigh, Thorin squeezed back, falling into step beside her as they turned to watch the scene unfolding within the home.

The Three Figures stood at the door, their mission complete, and the new parents wished them well. They had wanted a child for so long, and although they hadn’t expected their joy to be fulfilled in this way, they wouldn’t have it any other way now.

The Three turned and stepped off the porch, headed right towards the two dwarves it seemed. The man shouted out at them.

”Is there a name for our little rutabaga?”

Auel stopped dead in his tracks. The brighter of the two had been a little further ahead of his companions, however he halted, turning back to give the Ancient Smith a warning glance.

With a hearty chuckle, Auel turned around as his hood fell off his crown, a bright smile replacing the saddened one he had hid beneath his hood.

”Her name is Armis SparrowSong! Tell her all thou knowest when she comes to find her heart!”

The scene shifted again, only the Lady’s steady hand on Thorin’s arm kept him upright.

"It's time to wake up, Thorin." She turned and took both of his hands again. Her form seemed to change rapidly, her defining features remained the same, but she grew taller, shrunk low. Wrinkles, scars, age spots all came and went from her face and neck, but her vibrant eyes remained on his face, piercing his soul.

"Know this name, do not forget her." Her grip on his hands began to lessen, fear bubble up from his stomach as his hands found her forearms.

"What is your name," He ask, pulling her slightly, a silent plea for her to stay. She smiled as her form began to fade.

"Garnet."

Thorin lurched forward as her name burned his ears, Garnet. The stars shone above him, giving him light as he stumbled to his feet. Bleary eyed, struggling to connect with the earth below his feet, his foot found a root and caught on it. Pain shot up his leg as he fell against a tree, sliding back to the forest floor. Memories flashed in his mind of the River Running and a chill entered his heart as a shadow fell across him.

It wasn't just a dream, He thought. Garnet took me to that desolate farmhouse, for whatever reason.

His mind reeled, the chill in his heart grew as he sat and processed all that had happened to him within the past week.

With a furious shake of his head, Thorin stood up again, walking away from the roots and shadows of the Forest, making his way towards the road again. He couldn't let those thoughts stop him. He had to get to Erebor, not to reclaim it however. This time, it was to save his nephews from their Horrible Fate. He knew he couldn't convince them not to go, he had tried last time to no avail. He only hoped that this time they would be more careful, that he would be more careful.

Author’s Note

Ok, so I know I said there would be longer chapters ahead, and I promise there are, but I forgot how short this one was.... The next one makes up for it, I promise, I think it’s like.... 27 pages/9k~ words?

Oh! Before I forget, you can read ahead on Quotev, under the same name!

Tags: @tschrist1 @emrfangirl

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

#thorin oakenshield #thorin x oc #retry #reset #fix it fic #the hobbit #hobbit #shire #prancing pony #middle earth #fili #kili #bilbo baggins #bofur #super excited!

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inneedofsomehope · 4 years

Text

Intensify ~ Monsta X Shownu

Pairing: Female reader X Shownu

Genre: Angst, Smut(ish)

Warnings: None to note

Words: 1.6K

[Masterlist]

A/N: This one-shot is based on a request from an anonymous reader. I haven't been active lately because I haven’t been feeling all too well, but I will try and write more content for all my loyal readers :D. I Don’t really feel like writing smut right now so ya’ll can use your own imagination.

You and your partner Sohn Hyun-woo had been tracking a serial killer that was currently active in Seoul for the past two months, without much success, but now you had gotten a tip about his whereabouts. The both of you were not planning on sitting around and you decided not to waste any time and pay the serial killer a visit. While in the car towards the location，you and him talked over the plan once more.

‘Ok, so you will break down the front door, then he will probably try and flee out of the back door, where I will be waiting,’ Hyun-woo says, securing the belt that holds his taser and his gun. ‘Yes that is the plan, indeed,’ you respond keeping your eyes fixated on the road in front of you. You have left the highway far behind and the hardened road has turned into a mere dirt path. If you squint your eyes you can see the vague outline of a building in the distance. What will the two of you encounter when entering that building, you think to yourself, a bit nervous since this is a serious case you’re dealing with. ‘What will you do when he comes your way?’ the serious voice of your partner breaks your internal conversation. ‘I will wait and see if he is weaponed, if so, and he pulls a weapon, I will taser him.’ Hyun-woo nods pleased with your quick and correct answer. Since you don’t work for the Seoul Criminal Justice department for very long, you are not allowed to work with heavy guns. Part of you is relieved that you are not allowed to use it, part of you is a bit scared that you do not have anything other than a taser to protect yourself.

As the car nears the building, your nerves grow inside, you can barely swallow anymore and you feel like all your senses are on hyperalert. Suddenly you feel a big, warm hand on your knee, startling you a bit. ‘Don't be so jumpy, Y/N. It will all be fine.’ You briefly throw a look towards your partner, catching his eye, a warm feeling floods through your body. You have had these strange, confusing feelings towards him since the day you met him, but your professionalism forbids you from paying attention to these feelings.

You park the car about three-hundred meters away from the building, hidden from view by a group of trees, you will travel the last bit by foot, not risking being seen by the culprit. The key to your visit is the surprise. Slowly the both of you walk towards the building, Hyun-woo softly touching your hand, a reassuring gesture.

With all your might, you kick down the front door of the building, making as much noise as you can, after you have gotten your sign from Hyun-woo. ‘POLICE!’ you yell into the dark hallway. Slowly you walk into the building, holding your taser and a flashlight in front of you. The building smells awful, and it doesn’t look like as if someone has taken their residence inside. Your gut feeling tells you that there is something off. Slowly, warily you continue searching the building. At the end of the hallway there is a door, slightly opened. A vague light comes through the door, he must have been inside that room, fled as soon as you entered. You carefully open the door, not noticing the chain reaction you are starting by moving the door. You walk further into the room, pinpointing that this has to have functioned as living room, as well as kitchen.

‘Y/N YOU MUST GET OUT OF THERE N-...’ you hear Hyun-woo scream into the headset, but at the same moment there happens so much that you can’t take notice of it all, let alone flee the room. The movement of the door had knocked over a glass of water, starting a chemical reaction, leading towards the place that had served as the kitchen, exploding, making the instable roof collapse. You fall down in the position that you have learned during training. Your knees on the ground, as well as your hands, body folded over your knees, arms and hands protecting your head, but it is a futile attempt to save yourself, you think to yourself as the roof collapses on top of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Y/N!’

You hear a vague yelling as you slowly open your eyes. There is a lot of dust in the air and you are not able to move. ‘Hyun-woo...’ your throat is clogged with smoke and dust and your voice is barely above a whisper. Soon you feel some weight being lifted off of your body. ‘Y/N, are you there? Can you hear me? Are you ok?’ You can distinguish the fear and panic in Hyun-woo’s voice.

‘I’m here, I think I am ok.’

After a minute or so you can see some light and you can move your body, pushing the rest of the roof off of yourself. Immediately Hyun-woo picks you up, holding you carefully as he runs out of the burning building. Once safe in the car he turns towards your body, checking for serious injuries, but besides a cut on your head and a couple of bruises you are, thankfully, fine. ‘Jesus, you scared me to death...’ Hyun-woo is barely able to form a coherent sentence, his face fear-stricken, his hear disheveled. ‘I am fine, let’s go get out of here before more explodes.’

During the drive back to the base the Seoul Criminal Justice is located in, Hyun-woo can’t help but check up on you every five minutes. Your heart flutters at his concern, but your brain quickly shuts the feeling down. After arriving at the base, you are checked up on quickly. It is not necessary for you to visit the hospital, but you need to be checked during the night to make sure you don’t have a concussion, so it is agreed upon that you will stay the night at the base, together with Hyun-woo. He has to check up on you every 2 hours.

You agree, only because Hyun-woo is staying with you. The thing you actually want is to go home, take a warm shower and crawl under your warm duvet, sleeping until you wake up the next day, but instead, you have to sleep in the hard, uncomfortable beds of the base, using the cold shower.

~~~~~~~~~~~

After everyone has left the base, and you and Hyun-woo are the only two left, you decide that you will go ahead and take a shower. As the cold water pours down on your sore body you shiver. You would have given anything for a warm shower, and you doubt that you are going to get warm again today. It feels weird to step into the cold shower cabin of the base. You have never used it before and the tiles are cold to your feet. You shower quickly, drying your shivering body with a towel and putting on the spare clothes that you got from Hyun-woo.

‘How are you feeling?’ Hyun-woo his voice echoes through the bathroom. Shyly you step out of the shower stall and face him. ‘I’m feeling ok, a bit cold but nothing extreme,’ sound your answer, voice nothing more than a soft sound. Hyun-woo smiles softly and turns around, walking towards the canteen, currently serving as your so-called living room. You follow his steps and sit down on the sofa. ‘I don’t think that you and I will be working together on this case anymore,’ says Hyun-woo, ‘I think officer Lee and I will finish the job.’ With a startled expression, you look up from your phone. ‘But I am still capable of finishing it together with you!’ your voice sounds louder than you intend, but you can’t take it back now. Within three big strides, Hyun-woo is in front of you, kneeling down in front of the sofa. ‘Y/N, today, my nightmare became reality and I don’t think I can handle it if something would happen to you again.’ ‘Your nightmare...?’ Your brain is working overtime to progress what you just heard. ‘Y/N, I have a confession to make...’ Hyun-woo his face turns red, as well as the tips of his ears and you can’t help yourself but finding it an adorable sight.

‘I... I have liked you for a while now, or at least, I wasn’t sure that I did, but going through what we have been through today opened my eyes. The chance that I can lose you at any given moment scares me, more than I would like to admit,’ he says under his breath.

You don’t believe your ears. You are absolutely flabbergasted. ‘I... I...’ But before you can give an answer, Hyun-woo leans forward, grabbing your face between his big hands and kisses you sweetly.

After kissing his lips, for what seems like an eternity, you pull away. Your breathing is shallow and you feel light-headed. You would never have thought that he would share your feelings. You have a warm feeling in your stomach and you can feel heat and wetness pool between your legs.

‘Tell me if you are not ok, or if you feel uncomfortable. Ok?’

You nod, not trusting your voice. Seeking the confirmation in your eyes, Hyun-woo leans back onto his heels. As soon as he sees that you are sincere, he pulls you off of the sofa, hoists you up into his arms and carries you to the makeshift bedroom.

Desire is pooling in his brown eyes, his dark lashes lying softly against his cheekbones as he closes his eyes and leans in to kiss you again. His tongue softly swipes against your lower lip, asking you for entrance. Without hesitation, you grant him access and his tongue softly.

* * *

Hope you liked it! Comments and feedback are appreciated!

#monstax #hyunwoo #shownu #monsta_x #oneshot #minhyuk #Kihyun #hyunwon #Jooheon #joohoney #I.M #angst #smut #monsta x smut #Monsta x angst #monsta x shownu

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ohhellnowhy · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, Sammy.

In honour of Sam Winchester’s birthday, I decided to write some smut for him. Thought I’d start off my blog with a lil present. Plz be nice, it’s only my first smut, and constructive criticism and comments are always welcomed! Go for a request if you want one. I’ve got a couple more posts planned but if y’all request something I’m more likely to write!

Please reblog with credit and don’t repost without my permission onto other sites. The AO3 post: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993437

Sam x Reader: smut, swearing, slightly Dom!Sam, restraints.

I woke up slightly groggily next to Sam. It was crazy sometimes, how he was so warm, despite me being on the other side of the bed and barely touching him. But what was a little strange was waking up next to him. Usually, Sam would’ve been up and out for his run by now, maybe even back by the time I’d awoken, but Sam, Dean and I had been out for a relatively taxing hunt and drove back to the bunker more or less immediately after getting the job done. So Sam was particularly sleepy today and wouldn’t go on a run until later.

Glancing at the time, I saw it was 09:03. A strange time for me to be up and Sam not to be. Then the realisation dawned. Today was May 2nd; Sam’s birthday. I figured my subconscious must have made me wake up earlier so I could put my plans into action. Oh, and boy, did I have plans.

Part 1: Birthday wake-up blowjob.

Smirking almost evilly, I slowly peeled back the covers from the both of us and positioned myself just next to his crotch. I then palmed his cock through his boxers, noticing the morning wood that was slightly growing beforehand, whilst slowly edging the underwear down. Sam groaned above me, but not waking up yet. Once the boxers were down enough, I started softly stroking him enough for him to get harder, but only slowly so he wouldn’t wake up before the best bit. Sam was still making some happy noises, now a little bit louder and complimented by a little bit of squirming.

It was the perfect time to engulf his cock with my mouth, and Sam shot awake with a deep groan. “Ah, SHIT, (Y/N). That’s a wonderful wake up call.” I looked back up at him and hollowed my cheeks, sucking with earnest. I bobbed my head up and down his length, drawing stifled groans from the glorious, messy man above me. I flicked my tongue over the head of his dick, making him thrust up into my mouth which consequently made me gag. Trying to suppress the reflex, I took him down further into my throat. “Oh, God, (Y/N), I’m gonna-” With the obvious statement he was making, I cupped his balls and circled his cock with my tongue, swallowing around him as he came. Once I swallowed all his cum, I sat back up to give him a quick peck on the lips.

“Happy Birthday, Sammy.” Once he got his breath together, he actually formulated a coherent response. “Oh, yeah. I sorta forgot about that.”

“How do you forget your own birthday?” I questioned, looking at him incredulously. “Well, we never really celebrated birthdays.” He shrugged. “I guess there always seemed to be more important things to focus on.”

“And that attitude is why I’m making your birthdays more important to you. They’re good milestones and an excuse to have fun. Remember Dean’s birthday this year? Wasn’t it fun to just get away from hunting a little bit and enjoy quality time?” He sighed. admitting defeat. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” We then sat and just held each other for a bit, talking about just whatever we wanted for an hour or two. “Thank you for the wake up by the way. We need to have morning sex more often.”

“I totally agree with you. We don’t do it nearly enough - barely ever.” With that, he captured my lips with his, tenderly and sloppily making out. He started to grab my ass, trying to pull my shorts down but I cut him off. “Nuh-uh. We’ve got other plans today. Why don’t you go for your run first?” He whined, trying to give me the puppy dog eyes but I resisted. “Nope. You want me to get you anything from the kitchen before you go out?” Sam sighed, knowing that once I knew for certain I was going to do something, I wasn’t ever giving up. “Can I get an apple and a bottle of water please?”

“Sure thing.” I smirked, getting out of bed and walking to the kitchen to retrieve the requested items. Dean was also in the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes from breakfast. “Hey, Dean, Sam’s off out for his run - we’ve got to start now.” With that, he strode out of the kitchen to get Jack and Cas for the preparation. I grabbed the apple and a bottle of water from the fridge - Sam always had cold bottles of water kept in the fridge for quickness - and met Sam on his way out. “Thanks, Babe.” He said, giving me a quick kiss before heading out.

It was time for Part 2: Just a Small Birthday Party

Once the rest were assembled in the kitchen, I set out tasks. “Dean and Cas - you’re in charge of the decorations. We need some in here and around the map room. Jack - we’re gonna do the cake. Decorations are in my old room. Go.”

Dean and Cas scurried off, realising they were time limited. Jack got the ingredients out and measured them whilst I got the utensils and the like out and started preparing. Jack was watching my baking intently, clearly wanting to learn something as interesting and delicious as this. I narrated what I was doing, with reasons as to why with my limited knowledge. I wasn’t the best baker in the world, but every now and then I did something that surprised the Winchesters. Soon, the cake was in the oven, and Dean and Cas were already pretty much finished in all the rooms. Jack and I cleaned up the baking mess (complete with licking the spare batter off the spoons and whisks) and started preparing the decorations for the cake and making other foods. Dean was cooking gourmet burgers and homemade chips - he actually had quite the affinity for cooking and had more time to perfect it once they’d moved into the bunker.

Just as Jack and I were about to decorate the cake, Cas came rushing in to tell us he heard one of the garage doors closing, meaning Sam must be back. I told Cas to take over what I was doing with Jack whilst I distracted Sam for just a little while longer until we were ready. Coming into our shared bedroom to see Sam stripping out of his workout clothes, I tempted him with the prospect of us showering together and another blowjob. He took the bait and we very much enjoyed the bunker’s long-lasting hot water and stable water pressure.

Once we were cleaned up, I noticed Dean had shot me a text saying they were ready. “Hey, Sam, I think Dean’s cooking those nice burgers we get from the butcher’s - you up for food?” Hearing his stomach grumble, he shot me a look that said it all.

A little nervous, Sam and I wandered towards the kitchen. Turning on the lights, which he seemed confused at as to why they were off, Jack, Cas and Dean stood up to shout “SURPRISE!” along with me behind him. Jack and Dean joking pulled some party poppers as Sam took in some decorations. A banner that stated “Happy Birthday!” In a surprisingly nice, simple colour was strung above the table, with a few more obnoxiously stereotypical balloons in one corner and some presents wrapped near them. “Aw, thanks guys! You didn’t have to do this for me.” Dean spoke first, joking that his little brother was “-getting older by the minute so they had to stave off the grumpiness as long as possible.” He also revealed the burgers he was cooking with an assortment of sides and fillings available. We all served up our lunches and cracked open a beer each.

As we ate lunch, we talked about all sorts; Dean’s surprisingly good cooking, Cas eating on a rare occasion, retelling old stories and teasing at embarrassing moments - we were all content and having a good time. Jack and I dumped the dishes in the sink to tend to later as we brought out the cake and Jack lit all the candles for us. He cut the lights as I carried the cake to the table and decided not to sing happy birthday as only Dean and I knew the song and it would only be awkward otherwise. “Make a wish!” I said as Sam blew out his candles, Cas then questioning these strange human customs moments later. Sam cut some cake for us all and the others appreciated my baking skills.

“Okay, time for presents!” Dean announced, taking the whole pile of gifts and dumping them on the table just as Cas cleaned the rest of the plates away. The first was from Cas - neatly wrapped were some old lore books that, somehow, the Winchesters had never got their hands on before yet Castiel somehow did. Jack had gotten Sam a plaid shirt and a big photo album with a few old photos he got from Dean and some more recent ones that had been taken on various occasions - but there was still lots of room for more. I gave Sam a box of chocolates and a couple of fiction books Sam had been meaning to read for a long time but he had just never got round to. Finally came Dean’s gift; a pair of Lycra shorts and other pretentious but cheap workout clothing that were just utterly ridiculous. But then in all seriousness Dean handed Sam a box that, once unwrapped, revealed a new tablet. Sam was particularly ecstatic with this gift, but then he profusely thanked us all again for the presents. Jack went on with washing the dishes (with angel powers) whilst Dean and Cas cleared up some rubbish from the unwrapping.

I helped Sam carry the presents to his room. As he bent over to put the new shirt in one of his drawers, I came up behind him and snaked my arms around his waist and propped my head up on his shoulder. “Ya know, those chocolates and the books weren’t the only presents you’re receiving from me today.” He turned around to face me and smirked knowingly. “Oh? And what would be the other present?”

“Let me show you.”

I grabbed a bag hidden in the wardrobe, and dashed off to the bathroom to change.

The last part - Part 3: Amazing Birthday Sex.

Sam’s POV

Waiting in anticipation, I thought I knew what to expect but I also didn’t. I presumed it was birthday sex or some variation thereof, but whatever twist (Y/N) was putting on it I couldn’t tell. I was snapped out of my thoughts by a text I’d just received - from Dean. It read:

Me, Cas and Jack are off to a hunt in Washington - leaving you two to have some alone time. It should be a pretty simple hunt, but we’ll be about 3 days. I’ll only call if it’s desperate. Stay safe and have fun, birthday brother ;)

I sent back a quick, thankful reply as I realised (Y/N) had planned all of this. The sly, stunning dog had planned this all out and roped the rest of them in aswell. Not that I was complaining, simply noticing the effort (Y/N) had put into this. God, she was amazing; on every single level.

Speaking of the devil, she sauntered in at that point, looking absolutely delicious on every level. She wore a red, lacy matching set of lingerie that made me almost drool at the sight of her. Her cleavage displayed perfectly and teasingly as it was framed by her bra, and the completely lace panties accentuating her figure in the best possible way. “Like what you see?” She said tauntingly, one hip cocked out sassily. “Oh, fuck yeah.” I replied, striding purposefully over and crashing my lips into hers, holding her face in my hands.

She pulled away and said: “Hang on. I’ve got something else for you.” (Y/N) told me to sit on the edge of the bed, hold out my hands and close my eyes. I then felt her sat on the bead, nearer to the headrest but then lent forward to place two objects in my hands. Before I could try to assess what they were by touch alone, she said I could open my eyes. I immediately looked down to see a pair of leather-lined handcuffs and a long, silk rectangle of fabric. It was obvious what they were for. “You want me to use these on you?”

“You can do whatever you want with them. The control’s all on you, birthday boy.”

I groaned at all the filthy thoughts running a millions miles an hour through my head and almost leapt on (Y/N) to kiss her. I positioned her to lay beneath me, her starting to unfasten the buttons on my shirt. Bringing up her wrists to the headboard, I scolded her gently. “Ah, ah ah.” I stopped her, fastening her hands together with the handcuffs, attaching them to the headboard so she was stuck in one position.

“The control’s all on me, little girl.”

She let out a shaky breath at this.

We both knew it was going to be one hell of a night.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader smut #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #dom!sam #handcuffs #happy birthday sam winchester #smut #why i am like this #whyyyy

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ladywritesthings · 5 years

Text

(i was) meant to be yours, ch1

AO3

---

The final dire wolf fell with a choked sort of gurgle, the feral light in its eyes fading as the crossbow bolt buried itself deep into the pelt of its neck. It stumbled once, jaws snapping sluggishly as it tried to howl, before collapsing finally in a growing pool of its own blood. It let out one last gasp as its lungs collapsed, and lay still.

Fjord attempted to wipe the gore from his face, only succeeding in smearing it around a little. “I hate those things,” he grumbled.

Nott began picking through the carnage, salvaging which bolts she could as Jester sheathed her handaxe, feeling the sweat dripping down her back as she stretched languidly. “Hey, Caleb,” she called. “Do some of your fancy wizard magic and clean us up, yeah?”

Caleb, carefully skirting deeper into the cave from his safe vantage point further down the short tunnel, blinked at her. “And what magic is that?”

“You know, that little cleaning cantrip, present-a-digitum—”

“Prestidigitation,” he corrected automatically.

“Yeah, that one. We’re all sticky.”

He stepped gingerly around a bloodied mound of fur and bones. “I do not know it,” he said.

She huffed. “Why not?”

He paused a moment to shrug at her. “I haven’t needed it before,” he said.

She opened her mouth to respond but Beau’s voice cut across the cavern instead. “Give it up, Jess,” she said grumpily, brushing a sweat-slicked strand of hair from her face with the back of her arm. “Does he look like the kinda guy who would know Prestidigitation?”

“He’s a wizard.”

“A wizard constantly smearing shit all over his face. On purpose.”

“A wizard who happens to be standing right here,” interjected Fjord pointedly.

“You should learn that one next, though,” said Jester, slightly peeved at the scolding. “It’s easy to get dirty again later.”

Caleb made a non-committal noise that could have been mistaken for agreement if she hadn’t been listening.

Fjord sighed. “Hey, Beau, help me with this guy, willya? We need a place to sleep.”

“Here?” said Nott with disgust, pausing elbow-deep in dire wolf guts as Beau shuffled around her to help Fjord lift one of the larger corpses.

“You got a better idea? Look, we did our thing, we trekked up here, we killed shit, now it’s getting dark out and it’s at least three, maybe four hours’ walk to another decent camping space.” He shrugged. “It’s cleared out, it’s enclosed, and there’s only one entrance. I’d rather stay here than do any more hiking today, that’s for damn sure.”

“Oh, for — fine,” she grumbled, and that was that.

The bodies were easily removed — a bit of heaving and grunting and sweating had them all piled neatly in a distant corner; what useful, salvageable body parts left behind were easily harvested, and the rest greedily given to their slavering moorbounders, finally brought inside when the carnage was complete — the blood, less so. It was eventually decided, after much debate, that Jester would use her last spell to create a modest tidal wave Fjord then used to wash away the viscera. It wasn’t perfect, and it was definitely wet, but the lack of gore was a definite improvement.

Jester dreaded the thought of going to bed spattered in blood, but the ache of her muscles was rapidly drowning out the discomfort of some temporary stickiness. Besides, a sleeping Jester wouldn’t notice the difference anyway. Caleb was muttering indistinctly, pacing slightly back and forth as tiny sparks of arcane energy swirled around his fingers. She leaned lightly on Beau as they watched him work, and moments later the bubble appeared, delicately placed in one of the drier corners of the cavern. He’d made it a dark gray this time, to blend in with the stone walls. The exhaustion was finally catching up to her as the adrenaline from the fight faded, she realized, as Beau moved off and she found herself without the temporary headrest of her shoulder — she couldn’t wait to sit down.

“Nice work, Caleb.” Fjord clapped him on the shoulder as he stepped past and vanished from view. The rest of them followed, and Jester let out a soft sigh as the atmosphere went from uncomfortably cool to pleasant and dry. “Alright, who’s taking first watch? Might as well play it safe, just in case that wasn’t the whole pack.”

“I can take it,” offered Caleb.

“Are you sure?” said Nott concernedly. “You look tired.”

He waved her off. “I am mostly unhurt,” he said. “I don’t mind.”

“Then I’ll stay up with you, so you won’t be alone.”

“I have some reading to do,” he said. “It won’t be terribly interesting.”

“I can do it,” said Jester. “I want to tell the Traveler about what we’ve been doing lately, anyway.”

Nott opened her mouth as if to protest, then seemed to decide against it. “Oh, all right,” she said.

“I guess I can take next watch,” said Beau. “Fjord?”

“Alright,” he said. “Y’all can wake us up in a few hours.”

The Hut settled into a comfortable, tired silence as they arranged themselves within the confines of the Hut. Jester let the haversack fall from her shoulders and dropped down beside it. A part of her regretted suddenly offering to stay up at the sight of most everyone else pulling out blankets and bedrolls and curling up around her — her arms ached from hacking apart the remains of the dire wolves, and depleting her stores of magic always left her feeling drained — but it had been a few days since she’d updated the Traveler on her adventures, after all. A few more hours was worth the trouble.

Caleb quickly pulled out a book, settling down in a far corner, and was soon engrossed in his own little world. From the way he flipped through the pages, she had a feeling he probably would have been staying up anyway, regardless of whether there was going to be a watch or not. Figures. Then again, he was a really fast reader. She almost asked him what was so fascinating, but, no, it was probably really stuffy and boring, and he didn’t look like he’d hear her anyway. She dug through the haversack instead and pulled out her sketchbook and ink.

Time to get to work.

The first hour or two passed without incident, the only sounds being the deep, steady breathing of their companions and the gentle rustling of paper, and Jester soon lost herself in sketching the nearest dire wolf in its final moments for the Traveler. Brush and ink flowing over paper; smooth lines, disconnected at first, coming together to form a coherent image; the distant yet comforting sense of amusement and approval from her ever-present deity — it was all very relaxing. With a few quick strokes she feathered out something resembling a tail and paused to consider her handiwork. Her stock of colored inks was running a bit low at the moment, but as soon as they got back to a proper shop she decided to go back to the picture. Spend some extra time on the blood.

Something nudged her shoulder as she put the final flourish on the shattering skull and she jumped, nearly jittering ink across the entire page. “Geeze, Caleb!” she said, quickly capping the ink bottle before she upset it. “You scared me.” He was so quiet, she hadn’t even noticed him crossing the Hut to stand next to her. He was so tall from her position on the ground she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye.

“I’m sorry, Jester, I didn’t—” He paused, cocking his head as he leaned over her shoulder to inspect the drawing. “Oh, that’s very good,” he commented.

She brightened instantly at the compliment. “Thank you!”

“I especially enjoy the pattern in the exploding brain matter.”

She held the book up a little to better admire it. “It is good, isn’t it?”

“Are those—?”

“Dicks?” She beamed. “I’m so glad you noticed.”

“How could I not?” He shifted slightly, pulling something out of his coat. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your drawing, I just thought you might be interested…”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “What’s this?”

Instead of answering he simply held the book out to her. She took the battered tome gently, the faded gold embossing of the title winking weakly at her in the low light.

“‘Scorching Embrace,’” she read aloud. Her gaze flicked up to meet his, but his face betrayed nothing. “This is smut,” she said in a mock-scandalized tone.

“There’s a particularly saucy encounter on page 59,” he said in response.

“For me?” She clutched the book to her chest and batted her eyes. “Aww, you shouldn’t have!” It came out teasing, but a part of her was genuinely touched. As much as she adored Tusk Love, she was beginning to realize that, after rereading the same passages fifty times in a row, the prose could become a bit stale.

He shrugged, hands in his pockets. “I just finished it,” he said, by way of explanation. “I thought you might enjoy it.”

She admired her new treasure, water spots ironically distorting the image of the male fire genasi on the cover, locked in a passionate embrace with his sultry elven mistress. “Thank you, Caleb,” she said, and hesitated slightly before handing it back to him. He looked mildly surprised.

“You don’t want it?” he said.

“Read it to me.”

He blinked.

“Read it,” she said again, feeling a wicked grin curling across her face. “Out loud. To me.”

There was a pause, in which his eyes traveled from her face down to the book between them and very slowly back again.

The grin turned coy. “Are you shy?” she said.

She could have sworn a corner of his mouth twitched upwards under the shadow of his beard. “I am considerate,” he corrected, gesturing vaguely to the sleeping bodies surrounding them. “We wouldn’t want to wake them.”

She leaned forward and looked up at him through her lashes, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I can be quiet,” she said, and batted her eyes.

For a split second she worried her teasing might have gone too far, but then his hand stretched out and plucked the book from her grasp, fingers lightly brushing her knuckles in the process. His hands were warm. “Okay,” he said, and lowered himself into a cross-legged position beside her.

She clapped her hands delightedly as he thumbed through the pages. “Pick something really dirty,” she said.

There was a strange gleam in his eyes, a mischievous one he so rarely let slip, and she quietly relished in it. “You don’t want me to start at the beginning?” he said.

“Don’t be silly, they never put the good bits right at the start,” she said. She scooted closer and rested her chin in her fists, watching him expectantly. “Well?” she prompted after a few moments of silence.

He gave her a look. Cleared his throat. “‘There, in the freezing rain, he held her tightly,’” he began in a low voice, “‘but his arms were hotter than the Nine Hells themselves—’” He paused. “What?”

“I-it’s just…” Already she couldn’t stop laughing. Quietly, of course. “Do you think it means ‘sexy’? Or, like, actually hot? Are the Nine Hells even hot?”

“Some of them are, I suppose. And he is a fire genasi.”

“If they are,” she continued, “wouldn’t they be, like, super-hot? Like, super-duper-hot? Not sexy, though, probably. And he’s hotter than that.” She snickered again. “If he really was, she’d be melting.”

There was that glint again. “That wouldn’t be very erotic,” he pointed out.

“What if—” She bit her lip as the image waltzed across her mind, “—what if he touched her and the flesh just kinda…” She gestured wildly. “Melted off her bones, and then she was just a skeleton. And then he fucked the skeleton.”

The deadpan look on his face didn’t shift, but now his eyes were dancing. “‘Scorching Embrace,’ indeed,” he said.

She waved him on, covering her mouth to stifle her giggles.

“‘Her heaving bosoms—’ What now?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, muffled through clenched fingers. “That phrase always gets me, you know? Bosoms don’t heave.”

“You know, we won’t get very far if you keep interrupting me,” he said.

“Go on, then,” she said, biting her tongue very hard inside her mouth. Beau shifted in her sleep at the sound, a little bit of drool slipping down her chin.

He continued in that low, gentle voice, all about heaving bosoms and passionate embraces, as the love-struck couple stumbled out of the rain into a nearby barn and began, predictably, to tear each other’s clothes off. Her tongue was going to bruise by tomorrow, surely, by all the laughter she was admirably keeping in check so far. There was something absurd about it all — trashy prose notwithstanding. Caleb Widogast, overwhelmingly stoic at the best of times, his lilting Zemnian accent describing to her in detail the way steam roiled off the chiseled musculature of a fire elemental, with barely a twitch in his expression, making everything funnier, somehow. The situation was nearly enough to undo her in and of itself, really, if she stopped listening long enough to think about it. Her and Caleb, reading porn together, surrounded by their blissfully unaware friends.

Her fragile façade finally reached a breaking point, bursting into a fit of giggles she tried desperately to smother beneath clamped hands over her mouth.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Something funny, Jester?” he said. He was teasing.

“Wha-what did you just say?” she choked out.

There. There was the smile. Half of one, anyway. “I said,” he replied smoothly, readjusting his hold on the book, “‘her nimble fingers made quick work of the lacing on his breeches, and there, in all its glory, his throbbing love-wand rose to—‘”

She dissolved again. “Throbbing,” she wheezed, “l-love wand.”

“Would you like me to continue?” he said innocently. “I believe the phrase ‘the passion-moistened depths of her private Bag of Holding’ is coming up…”

Jester shook silently, a stitch in her sides as she swiped at a tear making its way steadily down her face. “It does not,” she managed.

“Are you calling me a liar?” he said. Compared to his usual somber demeanor, he looked positively gleeful. He pointed at the passage, tilting the book so she could see. “Right there,” he said. “Right next to the description of the dimensional shackles…”

She had to shove her entire fist in her mouth to avoid waking the entire countryside.

It took her nearly a full minute to recover from her fit, and as she gasped for breath he at last let out a chuckle, a low, throaty sound that made him smile, really smile, for the first time through it all. It wasn’t a big smile, exactly, but happy. Genuine. It made his eyes a little brighter, crinkled a little at the corners, but somehow that made him look younger. Healthier, somewhere under the beard and grime, like a weight had been temporarily lifted from his shoulders. Through her tears, she found herself admiring the slight curve of his Cupid’s bow, and the way the tilt of his head emphasized the height of his cheekbones.

Somewhere behind the stitch in her side she felt… something. A small something, an odd warmth, fluttering so slightly she couldn’t quite place it. Air filled her lungs in halting spurts, and for some reason she couldn’t figure out if it was easier or harder to breathe now.

Well, it was a ridiculous book. Slowly, with difficulty, she regained her composure. “How,” she demanded in a low voice, “do you do that?”

“Read smutty literature?”

��Read that with a straight face,” she said, wiping tear residue from her cheeks. “To another person. Out loud, You barely even smiled through the whole thing! You heard what you were reading, right?”

“Ah.” His gaze skittered for a moment, the smile faltering for only a fraction of a second. “I’ve had some… practice,” he said. “Keeping a straight face.”

Oh. Oh. With the Cerberus Assembly. The torture. Right. She could have kicked herself. “Well,” she said breezily, her ears going hot, “that was really good.”

“As good for you as it was for me?” he deadpanned. She shoved him at that, a little harder than she meant to, and he nearly fell over on top of Nott.

“Gross,” she said, although she couldn’t quite explain why her voice went all breathy just now. “You’re gross, Caleb.”

He was laughing quietly again as he righted himself. “Perhaps I should learn Prestedigitation, then,” he said, eyes dancing. She almost lost it again.

“But,” she conceded as she composed herself, patting the abused shoulder, absently adjusting the hem of his ratty coat, “you have a really nice voice.”

“Do I?” he said. He sounded… surprised. And a little amused.

She nodded emphatically. “It’s really soothing, you know? It’s nice.” She paused a moment. “I like your accent,” she said. “I don’t know if I ever told you that before.”

His face softened slightly. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn his cheeks went just a tinge pinker just then. “Thank you, Jester,” he said quietly. He looked down for a moment, at the book between them; at her hand, still on his shoulder. She was still touching him? There was a brief stutter in her mind, as she hesitated just a fraction of a second too long — ‘…Even through his coat, he’s so warm…’ — but then his eyes were on her again. “I like yours too,” he offered as an afterthought.

Something seemed to pass between them for a moment, although what kind of something she wasn’t entirely sure — all she knew for sure was that she felt very self-conscious for some reason and it was suddenly a little hard to look him directly in the eye. She retracted her hand with the abrupt, halting jitter of someone caught doing something they shouldn’t, and swallowed with some difficulty. Why did her chest feel so tight all of a sudden?

“You should smile more often,” she heard herself say. It was a blunt statement, one she couldn’t remember deciding to say, but it came out soft somehow.

“Oh?” His voice was soft now too, a little embarrassed, even, and she found herself nodding.

“You look much better when you smile,” she said lamely, and mentally kicked herself.

He quirked an eyebrow at that.

“I-I mean,” she said, and wanted to punch herself for the sudden stammer out of nowhere, “you look happier, is all, and you don’t really seem very happy most of the time, and it’s just nice, you know? Seeing you happy, I mean. You should be happy.” The words fell out of her in a rush, like she was nervous or something, but that was silly. Of course she wasn’t nervous. It was Caleb. Just Caleb, that’s all.

He looked away quickly, and now his cheeks were definitely pink as he let out an embarrassed cough. “I… ah,” he said awkwardly, and stopped.

There was that silence again, and she looked down to see her hands worrying at the hem of her dress. She forced them to still, forced a deep breath into her lungs as she smoothed out the wrinkles as best she could. Oh, but Traveler she felt strange, a bundle of directionless energy; giddy and a little lightheaded, like her blood had been replaced with electricity. Or ants. Electric ants. “What — um, what time is it?” she managed at last, and found herself confused at her own breathlessness.

He coughed again. “Ah, a bit past midnight,” he said. His face was a normal color now, his features rearranged into a more neutral expression, and a part of her felt a little sad the moment had passed.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We should probably try to wake people up,” she said, forcing her voice into a lighter tone. “Who had the next watch?”

He closed the book slowly, his long fingers absently tracing the faded title. “Beau and Fjord, I believe,” he said.

“I’ll get Beau,” she said, and paused. “Hey, Caleb?”

“Ja?”

“This was really fun.”

The ghost of a smile traced his lips. “Ja,” he said. “It was.”

There was a pause again as neither of them moved.

“Well,” she said eventually.

“Well,” he agreed, and rose to once again tower over her. Hesitated a moment, then reached out a hand.

Her breath caught briefly in her throat — ‘What is going on?’ — but she shook it off, letting him help her to her feet. He extended the book to her, but she pushed it back to his chest gently. “Keep it,” she said.

“Not to your liking after all?” he said.

“Well, how are you going to read it to me if I have it?”

He blinked slowly, and the corner of his mouth twitched again. “I see,” he said. “Alright.”

“You should do voices next time, though,” she added. “Accents, you know, really get into it.”

His expression turned pained. “Jester, you know I’m terrible with accents,” he said.

“Well, yeah,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “That’s what’ll make it funnier.”

He rolled his eyes a little, but he was still smiling. “Good night, Jester,” he said, and it wasn’t until he had released her to walk away that she realized he'd been holding her hand that whole time.

Her chest tightened again and she shook herself. Boy, she must have been even more tired than she thought. She stepped gingerly through the sea of bodies and squatted down beside Beau, gently prodding her shoulder.

“Wazzat?” Beau jerked awake with a sharp inhale, blinking up at her blearily. “Wha — what time is it?”

“Midnight,” whispered Jester. “You’re drooling, by the way.”

Beau swiped at her chin, pulling herself awkwardly into a sitting position. “Already?” She yawned, stretching her arms high above her head. “God, I had the weirdest fuckin’ dream.”

“Oh?” Jester shuffled around her to dig for her own bedroll, shaking the blankets.

“Yeah…” Beau shook her head, raking fingers through her hair. “I was hitting on some girl in a tavern, and she was getting really into it, and then…” She shook her head again. “She turned into a Bag of Holding. On fire.”

Jester froze in the middle of spreading her blankets out, biting down on her tongue hard. Her gaze flicked automatically over in Caleb’s direction, currently rousing Fjord, and in that moment he met her eyes. Oh, he’d heard, alright. He looked positively delighted.

“Huh,” she said, forcing her face into a neutral expression so as not to burst out laughing again. “That’s really weird.” Her voice almost cracked, and she forced herself to take a few deep breaths to calm down.

“Anyway,” said Beau, apparently completely oblivious to Jester’s internal struggle. “’Night.”

“Good night,” said Jester carefully. “Good night, Fjord.”

Fjord nodded slightly, still bleary-eyed as he shook himself awake.

“Good night, Caleb,” she added.

“Sweet dreams,” he said innocently as she rolled over. She wanted to scream.

Lying there, in the low light of the Hut, she tried closing her eyes, but on the inside she still felt jittery, restless. Caleb was so funny. She knew that of course. In a dry sort of way, when he wanted to be. She just wished he wanted to be more often. It must be so miserable, looking over your shoulder every waking moment, terrified of being discovered. Being caught. Her finger found a loose thread in her blanket and she picked at it absently. It was really nice, seeing him smiling like that.

‘Maybe he should read aloud to everyone on the way back to town tomorrow,’ she thought. ‘Maybe he’d smile again, and I wouldn’t have to be so quiet.’ But at the same time, a part of her rejected the idea. Part of the fun was the keeping quiet, the risk of discovery, and besides, what if the others thought it was weird? It was a little weird, when she thought about it. The cleric and the wizard, bonding over trashy porn in the dead of night. It was a side of him that she didn’t see very often, though, if at all, and it was nice. Nott might think it was fun, and Beau, probably, and, okay, maybe it would make Fjord laugh once or twice, but Caduceus and Yasha would probably think it was really weird.

Was it weirder, though, not telling the others? Maybe, she supposed. And maybe it was selfish of her, but a small part of her wanted to keep it that way; kind of like a secret, just a fun thing between the two of them.

And, really, what was wrong with wanting to keep something to herself? Just a private something she and Caleb shared. They didn’t have many of those. She rolled over again and drifted.

She wasn’t sure, exactly, when she fell asleep, only that when she did she dreamed ridiculously of giant, veiny dicks shooting fireballs and her own enchanted haversack dripping with unmentionable fluids — and then she wasn’t sleeping anymore, because of the screaming.

She shot up before she realized she was awake, chest heaving with the sudden shock. “Wh-what’s going on?” she said to no-one, mostly because no-one was listening. The screaming had stopped but the echoes had not, and Caleb’s voice rang out faintly through the cavern as formerly sleeping party members snapped to various stages of consciousness, searching for signs of a threat. Because it was Caleb who had been screaming, with his blankets tangled around his knees, fingers strained and digging into the cavern floor, breathing hard.

“Caleb!” shouted Nott. She’d sprung to her feet in a split second, waving her crossbow around wildly. “Caleb, what happened? Are you alright?”

He raked his fingers through his hair, staring at nothing, apparently not listening to her. Even from across the Hut, Jester could see the slick sheen of sweat across his brow, and his skin was pale white. “Es war nicht echt,” he was muttering to himself, and his voice was rough and trembling as he rocked slowly where he sat, limbs curling in on themselves like a dying spider. “Götter verzeihen mir, es war nicht echt…”

Jester scrambled to her feet and hurried over, kneeling by his side as the rest of them hovered uncertainly. Nott clutched at her arm. “What’s wrong with him?” she demanded. “Caleb, what’s wrong?” She reached out to touch him, to shake him, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t blink.

“Sie hat sie getötet,” he rasped at no-one. “Wir haben sie alle getötet…” He was staring at his hands, dirty and bloody and shaking, and pressed his nails into his arms, scratching, eyes glazed. “Ihr Blut ist an meinen Händen…” Sweat poured down his ashen skin.

“Caleb!” said Jester desperately, and grabbed his face. He didn’t stop rocking, didn’t stop muttering, didn’t stop staring, so she did the first thing she could think of.

She slapped him.

The resounding crack rang out nearly as loud as the screams in the relative silence and several people winced. Her palm stung from the impact, the mark on his cheek an angry red that honestly might be bad enough to bruise, and she’d definitely feel bad about that in the morning, but right now all she cared about was that it seemed to have worked. He was still now, blinking slowly. His eyes focused and landed on her. “Jester?” he whispered.

She only realized she was still holding his face when his fingers brushed hers on the way to touch his damaged cheek and she pulled away immediately, pulse hammering uncomfortably hard in her ears. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins. She’d been so scared, she realized. But he was there, and he was okay. Except his face was definitely going to bruise. “I’m sorry,” she said automatically.

“You... Blood,” he said faintly. “So much... blood.”

She scrubbed at her face, self-conscious in spite of herself. “We fought dire wolves,” she said. “Remember?”

Nott pushed past her roughly, flinging her arms around him. “Are you alright?” she demanded. “What happened? You scared us half to death.”

“Yeah, man, are you… like, okay?” said Beau concernedly, hands still clutched defensively around her staff. “No offence, but you look like shit.”

He didn’t respond immediately, hand rubbing his face as he flexed his jaw experimentally. “Scheisse,” he said. “I think you cracked a tooth.” He was still looking at her like she was a ghost.

Jester felt her face heat up, embarrassment finally catching up to her properly. “Yeah, well, you were all weird and wouldn’t snap out of it,” she said defensively.

She hadn’t noticed Caduceus come to kneel beside her. “Let me get that,” he said, and with a wave of his fingers and a muttered prayer, the flaming imprint of her hand faded from Caleb’s skin in a dull shimmer of divine energy.

Caleb blinked again, suddenly seeming to notice there were other people around — including a goblin clinging to his arm — and flushed, looking ashamed. “Danke,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“Bad dream?” said Caduceus gently.

Caleb’s face twitched, fingers digging harder into the meat of his forearms. “Ja, something like that,” he said.

Fjord let out a low whistle and released the falchion into the ether. “Some dream,” he commented.

“You were gone, man,” said Beau, laying down her staff. “Completely out of it.”

“You were saying something in Zemnian,” said Nott. She was fussing with his hair, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You sounded so scared… What did you see?”

He flinched as though she, not Jester, had struck him, and shrugged out of her grasp. “It was nothing,” he said roughly. “It wasn’t real.” He swallowed with some difficulty, wrapping his arms even tighter around himself. “It wasn’t real,” he muttered again.

Fjord and Beau exchanged glances as he shook himself, looking sorrowfully around at all of them. “I am sorry,” he said again. Out of the corner of her eye, Jester saw his fingers picking at one of the exposed scars on his arm. “I did not mean to wake you all.”

There was a scraping noise from behind them as Yasha sheathed the Magician’s Judge. “I know something of bad dreams,” she said quietly. She touched his shoulder gently, once, and turned back to her bedroll.

Jester shifted uncomfortably on her heels, raised her hand to — what? Touch him? Comfort him? Lowered it again. “Well,” she said slowly in the awkward silence. “As long as you’re okay, I guess.”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes, but his gaze flicked up to her face briefly, at least. “I’m sorry to have scared you,” he said again in a low voice. “I am... I am fine now. Thank you, Jester.”

“I’ll take next watch,” said Nott.

“You sure?” said Beau. “We still have a couple hours left—”

“I’ll take it,” repeated Nott firmly.

“I’ll stay up a bit longer too,” said Caduceus. He patted Jester’s arm reassuringly, and she hadn’t realized she’d been shaking until she stopped. “You guys go back to bed. We’re alright here.”

A part of her didn’t want to leave, not when Caleb still looked so pale, and Beau looked nearly as reluctant as she felt, but they backed away slowly under Caduceus’s calm gaze and she had no choice but to turn back and crawl to bed again. She glanced over her shoulder as her companions shuffled back to their own bedrolls; at Caduceus sitting cross-legged on the ground, at Nott fussing and fretting over Caleb, ignoring his protests and tucking him in like a child. He looked so haunted now, so pale and sweaty and still afraid, even as his breathing had evened out and whatever horrors he’d seen been proven imaginary. She caught the slight shaking of his hands as he tried to fend off Nott’s mothering, and her heart twisted inside her.

Gone was the Caleb of a scant few hours ago, the one who laughed with her about love-wands and bosoms, and in his place was — and here her chest ached again — the Caleb of so many months ago. The one who never smiled, who avoided questions and eyes and rubbed so much dirt and grime on himself to avoid recognition she’d thought he was a brunette for the first two weeks of knowing him.

The Caleb they had first met in Trostenwald the night of the carnival.

The thought almost made her want to cry.

She stared up at the ceiling, twisting and turning for the longest time, even as the rest of the party settled into their bedrolls and sleep picked them off one by one. She caught herself glancing over at Caduceus’s form more than once, the only one of the trio visible past the sleeping bodies surrounding her, but that couldn’t tell her if Caleb had calmed down. She eventually had to roll over, so she had nothing to look at but the rocky walls surrounding them. That helped, but didn’t stop her mind from racing.

What had he seen that was so terrible? A part of her wanted to ask — it wasn’t healthy, keeping things locked up inside your head, it couldn’t be — but she didn’t want to pry, either. Whatever it was had to have been horrible beyond description, anyway; what else could have made him scream like that? Was it a monster? A memory? He was so vague about his past, but they’d all seen his arms. Seen the scars. He’d told them about Trent. Maybe there were horrors in his past he had shoved down so far they only resurfaced in dreams?

She wished she could have understood him as he babbled in his native tongue. Wished she could have said something to comfort him. Done something. She hated seeing him like that.

‘Traveler,’ she prayed silently, ‘I know he’s not a worshipper — not yet, anyway, I know, I’m still working on it — but Caleb’s my friend and he’s really hurting right now, and it would really mean a lot if you could… I don’t know. Could you help him? I think he needs it, like, a lot of it, but I don’t think he’d ask for it and I don’t know what to do.’

Her deity was silent.

She couldn’t fall asleep again for a long time.

#widojest #critical role #fanfiction #mtby fic #Lady writes things

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