#last time i met him he told me i slowly need to start exercising again as im gaining weight bc ive started gaining

[vakta]

things,,, they make me worried,,

[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

Edward Teach x Reader where they break up and reunite on Stede’s ship. They’re still annoyed with each other (as exes often are) and Y/n mostly avoids him on the ship. Eventually, tension kind of eases up and Ed starts to take a romantic liking to Stede. Maybe Izzy had an unrequited crush on the reader for a while and now that they’re closer, Izzy and the reader start a thing. But after seeing them together Ed gets pissed. I just enjoy hot men w irrational jealous anger sometimes. Idk how it would play out but yeah. Anyway off topic but I got a 57 on my math test and I thought I got a 95???

Starting Fresh:

Izzy sighed to himself after dismissing Ivan and Fang. As if this whole exercise wasn’t troublesome enough, now they had unexpected guests. He ran a hand through his hair and steadied himself before entering the captain’s cabin.

“Captain, there is a rowboat approach,” Izzy reported.

“Who?” The change in Edward was instant, the way he sat up and his expression darkened.

“We don’t know, boss. What should we do?” Izzy asked.

“Oh!” Stede perked up, looking unbothered by the report of a threat. “They aren’t trouble, it will be some of the crew returning. I completely forgot to mention it,” he laughed at himself, waving his hand dismissively. Even Izzy had to admit that for somebody who had been stabbed recently, Bonnet was recovering well. 

“Your crew?” Edward asked, slowly relaxing back into his lounging position from before.

“Yes. Two of our crew were conducting some business nearby. One of them is my first mate actually, they’re incredibly capable, perfectly qualified to handle it without me. We were boarded while they were away, that’s why you haven’t met them yet,” Stede explained. 

“Fucking hell,” Izzy muttered to himself. That would have been good information to have earlier.

“Well, let's go see how their business went,” Edward shrugged, stretching his bad leg before standing from the settee.

The two captains headed up onto the deck, a disgruntled first mate trailing behind him. Just as they were emerging onto the deck, the returning crew members were climbing aboard the ship.

“Frenchie!” Wee John greeted the first crew member to climb over the railing, sweeping the smaller man off of his feet in a ‘welcome back’ embrace.

A hand grabbed the railing, and the second crew member pulled themself up over the railing with ease. Edward and Izzy completely froze when the second person hopped down onto the deck, straightening out their clothes.

“The Spanish?” you shouted in disbelief, looking at the crew for some sort of update or explanation. Not that you actually gave them time to respond. “We were boarded by the Spanish? Is everyone alright?” you asked, frustration morphing quickly into concern for your crew. “Fucking hell, I knew I shouldn’t have left the ship. Captain, I told you-Edward…” you spun around to face your captain, freezing at the sight of your ex-captain.

“The crew is perfectly fine, I promise,” Stede assured. “Edward here, and his crew of course, came along just in time,” he placed a hand on Edward’s arm, a warm comradery obvious between them, though you didn’t really have the chance to think too hard about that.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Edward questioned. 

Izzy sighed. Edward’s expression had darkened again, his voice lowering dangerously. The Caribbean was big but not that big and the two of you ran in similar circles, Izzy knew it was only a matter of time before your paths crossed again. He just didn’t think this would be the circumstance.

“Me?” you scoffed, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Saving the lives of your crew, apparently,” Edward retorted, earning a small snarl from you.

“You two…know each other?” Stede asked carefully, looking between you both. You had never mentioned knowing Blackbeard even when the crew shared stories about his legend.

“Fuck,” Izzy muttered, this was the last thing he needed. This ship was enough of a headache, and now this.

You and Edward just glared at each other, as if daring the other to answer. “Used to sail on the Queen Anne,” you answered.

“You sailed with Blackbeard?” Black Pete asked from somewhere to your right, the excitement clear in his voice. You didn’t take your eyes off of Edward but you heard a small grunt that suggested Lucius had elbowed his boyfriend to signal that now was not the time.

“Can’t get the fuck away, apparently,” you grumbled.

“Last I checked, I kicked you off of the ship,” Edward scoffed.

“Yeah, keep bragging, Eddie. That makes you sound like the good guy,” you smiled sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Can we not do this here?” Izzy suggested. 

“Do what? What is happening?” Stede asked. 

You took a breath, squaring your shoulders and turning your full attention to Stede. Your captain. “Captain,” you cleared your throat, getting his focus on you. “I’ll give my report later. I’ll go check the rations,” you turned and walked away without being dismissed, just needing to create distance, to get some air.

Edward muttered something to himself, something Stede couldn’t make out, before storming back into the captain’s cabin. Stede frowned and hurried after him, already looking like he was about to fret over everything.

Izzy looked up at the sky, almost cursing the clear blueness of it, begging whatever higher power might exist to just stroke him down where he stood. 

Lucius, with wide eyes and his mouth agape, quickly kissed Pete’s cheek and ran after you. He caught up with you in the corridors of the ship. “You used to date Blackbeard?!” It was supposed to sound like a question but came out more like an accusation.

Halting, you spun on your heel to face him. “What the fuck, Lucius?”

Lucius scoffed, it wasn’t like you to play dumb. “You’re obviously exes, and things apparently didn’t end very well.” 

“I’m not telling you anything, so don’t even ask,” you jabbed your finger against his chest to get your point across before storming off down to the hold.

Lucius blinked. “Holy shit, what the fuck is going on around here?” he whispered to himself as you left him alone below deck. First Blackbeard boards their ship and their captain is obviously crushing on him, and now it turns out that you’re his ex? Finally something exciting was happening around here!

-

Izzy couldn’t believe Edward wasn’t taking the goddamn ship, that he wasn’t following the fucking plan. No, instead he was going to try ‘co-captaining’ with Bonnet or some dumb shit like that.

So, due to this new arrangement, Bonnet had sent Izzy to speak with his first mate, since the two of you would be co-first-mates now. Normally Izzy would snap and remind him that he isn't his captain, but he was just thankful to have an excuse to leave their quarters. 

Izzy is going to stab himself…

You were up on the helm, stance relaxed and one hand on the wheel. You gave him a smile, small but genuine, as he joined you. At least spending some time with you wouldn’t be so bad, you were the most bearable person to be around on this ship, and the two of you used to be decent friends. At least, he thought you had been.

“So, you’re a first mate, now?” Izzy asked. A weak attempt at conversation but he never claimed to be good at it, and you should know that by now.

“What can I say, you inspired me,” you teased.

Izzy felt the corners of his mouth quirking up but fought it. “You know this ship is full of idiots, right?” You must see what he saw, you had served on proper pirate ships and weren’t as whimsical as Edward. Surely, you knew how absurd this whole thing was.

“They’re learning, I’m teaching them. Captain Bonnet doesn’t have any experience but he cares about the crew. The crew…they’re good people, I like them.” You knew the crew wasn’t…skilled…but they were good people. You liked this crew, they were a welcome change to the ship life you knew. They had been good to you and in return you had been good to them.

“You used to sail for Blackbeard,” Izzy huffed, as if you needed reminding.

“Yeah, and this is a very refreshing change of pace,” you shrugged.

It was definitely a change, though Izzy wouldn’t call it refreshing. “Still not forgiven him?” he asked.

“I assume the captains wanted us to talk about the ship, not my past relationships,” you mumbled.

Izzy sighed, that was fair. “At least tell me you think this whole thing is ridiculous,” he needed to know that he wasn’t the crazy one.

“Oh, completely ridiculous,” you agreed, the two of you chuckling. You smiled to yourself, looking out at the crew on the deck, feeling a little lighter. “Will be nice to work with you again, Iz. I missed you,” you admitted.

Izzy paused, refusing to look at you as he felt his cheeks warming slightly.

“Yeah, missed you too,” Izzy begrudgingly admitted

The two of you really had been good friends aboard the Queen Anne’s Revenge, he would even call you his best friend. The closest friend he had. Though Izzy could now admit to himself that he had always felt more for you.

Izzy knew that it was all just his luck, it pine after somebody who wouldn’t look twice at him because Blackbeard was right fucking there. He could still remember watching as Edward made you swoon, the two of you laughing as you plotted your next fuckery together. He still remembers how pissed he felt when Edward had fucked it all up, hadn’t appreciated what he had, what Izzy wanted.

-

You were on night shift when Edward next approached you, a few days after you returned to the ship and discovered him already aboard. He had approached in silence and just stood beside you, at least he didn’t seem angry.

“I’m not in the mood to fight, Edward,” you sighed. It didn’t seem like he was here to argue but you could never be too careful, and you really didn’t want to fight with him.

“Not here to fight,” Edward promised, “just want to talk.”

“Talk?” you couldn’t help but be a little curious, looking at him properly now. The two of you hadn’t really talked all that much towards the end of whatever you had.

“They do that a lot here, apparently it’s effective. Been kinda…good, thought we could try it.”

You managed not to roll your eyes at Edward acting like he had been here longer than you. “Alright…talk.”

Edward sighed and looked at you properly. “I shouldn’t have kicked you off the ship.”

You weren’t sure if you would get an actual apology from the man, so you would take what you could get. At least he was trying. “...I shouldn’t have shouted at you in front of the crew,” you said in return, “though, I think that was more embarrassing for me than you.”

“You know how I get when Jack is around, we bring out the worst in each other,” he attempted at some sort of jovial tone, but it didn’t really land.

“Yeah, you do,” you scoffed a little. Everyone knew how Ed and Jack got when they were around each other, it was a headache if nothing else. “But it wasn’t Jack’s fault, Ed. You can’t blame him, you made those decisions,” you reminded him.

Edward nodded, looking something close to remorseful. “You’re right…I’m sorry.” You almost couldn’t believe he was actually apologising. 

“...yeah, me too. I’m over it, really. I moved on,” you shrugged softly. “I admit, I was angry at you for a long time, was angry when I saw you on this ship, but it’s just not worth it and I don’t feel that anger when I look at you anymore. It’s over, what’s done is done.”

“So…we’re cool?” Edward asked carefully. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had tracked you down just because he wanted to put things right or because Stede had convinced him to improve relationships among the crew.

“Yeah, whatever, Ed. We’re cool,” you agreed.

“Okay, great…yeah, okay,” Edward nodded, he looked like he was going to pat you on the shoulder for a moment before choosing not to and leaving instead.

“Ed,” you stopped him, cursing yourself for it when he turned back to you. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Stede, and you don’t have to tell me, it’s none of my business. He’s odd but he loves a lot, and he really seems to like you. If you hurt him, if you pull the same shit on him that you did on me, I won’t be as forgiving this time,” you warned.

Edward should have been offended, and he would be when he wasn’t so caught off guard, but instead he settled on, “me and Stede aren’t-” and you didn’t let him finish.

“Yeah. You weren’t with a lot of people,” you rolled your eyes. It at least shut him up. “Just don’t fuck it up with him. Either do it right or leave now,” you advised.

The crew had become fond of their eccentric captain and you could honestly see a mutiny happening against the great Blackbeard if he broke Stede’s heart. Edward’s mouth opened to argue but instead just left without another word, letting you get back to your shift.

After that late night, and uncomfortable, conversation with Edward, you had to admit that the tension had eased up. You still wouldn’t call each other friends but you were civil, you could work together, even if you still made a point of reporting and answering more to Stede than him. He seemed to accept that, especially since Izzy behaved the exact same way towards Stede.

Your conversation must have also given Edward a push to consider his feelings for Stede because they had somehow become even closer, attached at the hip all the time. You were glad to see Stede happy and figuring himself out, but you almost felt protective over him. Edward better watch his step, you actually liked that blond dumbass.

-

You always ate your meals with the crew, ever since you signed on with Stede. You still did, technically, but instead of sitting at the bench with the rest of them, you had tucked yourself into a quiet corner off to the side with Izzy.

Izzy didn’t really like sitting with the crew, he didn’t feel comfortable around them yet, but you liked sitting with Izzy. You usually ate your lunches with Izzy back on the Queen Anne, and occasionally sat together for supper.

“C’mon, you have to admit that Roach’s cooking is way better than whatever our cook was doing,” you teased, waving a chunk of fresh bread between you both.

“It’s…yeah, alright, it’s good. Bonnet wastes a lot of fucking money on this but…yeah, it’s good,” Izzy reluctantly admitted. Like complimenting a chef was so humiliating.

“Hey, it’s not our money, let him spend it and keep us well fed,” you shrugged.

“Ah, so you are still a real pirate after all,” Izzy smiled a little to himself, glad that this crew hadn’t changed you. Maybe you were calmer now, less impulsive, but that often came naturally as time passed, but you were still you.

“Just more house trained,” you joked, earning a small chuckle from the grisly man that warmed your heart. “How was everything after I left?” you couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgic, when you had left you had missed the ship you called home and the crew you called family.

“Probably what you’d expect. Your argument threw Ed into one of his moods. It didn’t last too long, a couple of risky raids and things mostly went back to normal,” Izzy shrugged. It was pretty standard for the Queen Anne, though it felt a little tougher without you there.

“Fuck, Iz, it’s been way too long since we’ve properly talked.” Izzy had been on the Revenge for a while now and you felt like you had only really spoken about work. You wanted a proper chance to talk with him, to catch up, to hear about how things were after you left, to tell him how you met Stede and joined his crew, to properly reconnect. “We’re stopping at port in a few days, we’re going out,” you decided.

“Going out?” Izzy cocked an eyebrow, a little taken back by your determination.

“Yep. We’re going ashore, we’re going to whichever tavern you suggest, and we’re hanging out,” you told him, matter of fact.

Normally Izzy wouldn’t like somebody telling him what to do, just assuming he would comply, but instead he only found himself pleased that you were so eager to spend time with him. “...sounds good,” Izzy nodded, fighting off a small smile.

“Roach!” Edward called as he entered the galley, flashing the crew a smile when they looked at him. “Stede said you have more of those yummy cakes,” he turned back to the cook.

“One second, I’ll grab them for you, captain,” Roach nodded, sounding a little irritated, before going to fetch the sugary treats.

Edward lent against the longer table as he waited, only basking in the attention of the crew a little bit, looking around the room until he saw you sitting separately with Izzy. You hadn’t even looked up at his entrance, neither of you had, the two of you talking low enough that the others couldn’t hear you. Like you were in your own little world. 

He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, that you were both too caught up in each other to pay him any attention. He supposed he was just used to naturally demanding it, he had once had your attention and even after you left Izzy had hung on to his every word.

Thankfully, Roach returned with the cakes before Edward could dwell to long on the feeling.

-

Another month had passed and the two crews had completely found their place together, with more ease than anyone expected. Stede and Edward were still co-captaining and officially courting each other, other than Izzy, Ivan and Fang were the only crew members from the Queen Anne that had decided to stay aboard the Revenge for the long term, and you and Izzy stuck by each other’s side more than you ever had before.

Edward couldn’t believe how much had changed over the last couple of months, all he knew was that this was the most fun he has had for years, maybe ever, and he had Stede to thank for that. That fascinating, loving, man. Stede felt much the same about Edward, happy to indulge in the other man’s affections.

“It’s a clear night, will you please teach me how to navigate by the stars?” Stede asked, not even needing to bat his lashes to have Edward jumping to his feet.

“All you have to do is ask!” Ed grinned, planting a happy kiss to his partner’s lips before guiding him towards the door.

They left the cabin with their arms intertwined, leaning against each other as they emerged onto the deck. There was a lantern lit up on the quarterdeck, most likely whoever had a shift tonight.

“Who’s on watch?” Stede asked, not being the one in charge of creating a rota.

“Not sure. We’ll just tell them we’ll cover for them,” Edward shrugged, also not responsible for the schedule. That was the job of a first mate or quartermaster, not the captains.

The two men quietly walked up to see who’s night they would be making before pausing at the sight. Instead of a tired looking crewmember leaning against the railing, they saw you and Izzy sitting together comfortably, with mugs of something warm in your hands. 

You were leaning against each other, shoulder to shoulder, talking quietly between yourselves. Both captains felt as if they were intruding on something even though they hadn’t yet been caught. 

Occasionally one of you would point up at the sky and discuss something, voices low but light. Izzy spoke, close enough to you that his nose brushed against your temple and quiet enough that the captains couldn’t make out his words, but they did hear you laugh and see him smile in response.

Shaking your head fondly, you placed your mug down safely beside you and lent over to give Izzy a kiss. Just the faint brush of your lips against his that had Izzy leaning in, as if under some sort of spell. 

“Let’s leave them be, Ed,” Stede whispered, giving him a small shake when he didn’t respond. Edward still felt like he was in some sort of shock, unable to protest as Stede guided him away and back to their cabin. They could stargaze another night.

“You’re adorable,” you cooed, loving the way Izzy’s face heated up at any compliment you gave him. Of course, his easy to fluster nature only made complimenting and praising him all the more satisfying for you.

“Fuck off, no I’m not,” Izzy grumbled, even as he lent into your hand that stroked through his hair.

“Yeah, you kind of are, though,” you whispered, almost wistfully. “Can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner.”

Izzy sighed a little. “You were a little preoccupied,” he reminded you.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you groaned before tenderly pressing your forehead to his. “Can I tell you something?” you asked.

“Sure,” as if he could ever deny you.

“Before I was with Ed…I kinda had a crush on you. Didn’t think you were interested, you were, like…unattainable. Unreachable, y’know? Didn’t seem to take an interest in anybody, especially if they weren’t Edward. And then I started spending time with Ed…and y’know, things just happen,” you confessed, feeling like you had made some silly mistake somewhere along the line.

Izzy closed his eyes for a moment, before pulling away. “I don’t need you to say that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not,” you frowned, keeping your hand against his shoulder but not stopping him from moving away if he wanted to. “I mean it,” you promised.

Izzy looked at you, all glassy eyed and vulnerable in that way he got. You looked genuine, sounded sincere. Anyway, lying really wouldn’t get you anything, nothing he could think of anyway. You didn’t need to convince him of anything, he was already here with you. “You really didn’t know I was sweet on you?” he asked, blushing as if he was confessing feelings that you didn’t already know about.

“Looking back now…it was kind of obvious, I guess. But no, I honestly didn’t know. I was pretty stupid back then, have learnt a lot since. Matured and all that bullshit.” Back then you hadn’t noticed the more quiet affection that Izzy offered, the stolen glances and shy looks, the way he just did things to make your life easier without even acknowledging it. 

You saw those things now, cherished them they way they deserved to be, but back then you had been blind. Izzy hadn’t teased or flirted, hadn’t touched and lent in close at every opportunity, had nervously sat beside you instead of pulling you down onto his lap. He wasn’t the type to pursue and you had overlooked that.

“Would it have changed anything?” Izzy asked, though he wasn’t sure how he wanted you to answer. 

“I don’t know. I’d like to think so,” you confessed. “No point thinking about that now. We’re here now,” you gave him a sweet smile that had him relaxing again.

Right, just like you said. You were here, with him, and you were happy. He was happy. The past was in the past, you were here now. “Yeah, guess we are,” he gave a small smile in response as he leant back into your touch.

You were both still smiling when you kissed him again. Izzy kissed back, just as he always did when it came to you, and let his arms loop around your waist. You didn’t hesitate for a moment, slipping yourself onto his lap.

-

Ever since he walked in on your date night with Izzy, Edward had been flipping through possible explanations in his mind. He knew that the two of you were friends, all three of you had been, but that night certainly wasn’t purely platonic. Izzy was looking at you the way he always had, with adoration, and you were looking back at him much the same. The same way he would catch Stede looking at him, the way that always made him melt and feel fuzzy inside, made him feel loved and cherished.

It was only a couple nights after the discovery that Edward decided that he just had to speak with you about what you were doing with Izzy. Whether it was serious or not, just friends keeping each other company, just a one time fluke thing, or something else. He had to know…he was captain and it was his responsibility to keep an eye on the crew afterall.

Edward left Stede sleeping in their bed and searched for you, finding that you weren’t sleeping with the rest of the crew. He double and triple checked that you hadn’t just disappeared bundled under a blanket among them before he realised where you must be. You must have been in Izzy’s cabin, which only served to worsen his mood.

Izzy hated sharing a cabin, sharing his cabin. And his space on the Revenge was much smaller than what he had on the Queen Anne, and yet it seems that he let you in. Were you staying in there with him or just every now and again?

Before Edward knew it, he was down in the ship and throwing open the door of the first mate’s cabin. 

Instinctively, you and Izzy jolted awake, ready to defend yourselves from the intruder. The blanket falling to the floor, leaving you both in the underclothes you had gone to bed in.

“Should have fucking known you’d be here,” Edward scoffed, looking at the two of you like you had done something wrong.

“What the fuck, Ed? Is something going on?” Izzy asked, voice even hoarser with sleep but blood pumping through his veins, ready for an impromptu raid or storm.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Edward retorted petulant.

“Ed?” you groaned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes now that you knew you weren’t under attack. “What the fuck, man? I’m too tired to try to figure out what you’re talking about,” you grumbled. The sooner he told you what was wrong, the sooner you could tend to it and get back to sleep.

“What’s going on here?” Edward questioned.

You just frowned at him, trying to understand the question. When you did realise what he was talking about, you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Are you serious, Edward?” 

“Told you he’d be pissed,” Izzy muttered, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to get it under control as he grabbed the blanket from the floor.

“And I told you, I don’t give a shit. He needs to get over it,” you huffed back, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Are you doing this to piss me off?” Edward asked, though it sounded more like an accusation than a question.

“Edward-” Izzy began but you cut him off.

“Fucking hell, Edward! Not everything is about you. This isn’t about you,” you couldn’t help but snap, feeling the anger surge up inside you.

“Sure, it isn’t,” Edward scoffed, “you’re fucking my first mate.”

Izzy froze by your side but you could only stare at Edward. “So?” you asked slowly.

“You’re fucking my first mate but it’s not to get back at me,” Edward stated like it was the most obvious thing on this fucking ship.

“It’s not about you!” you snapped again. “I like Izzy, we like each other. We’re giving it a try. Most importantly, it’s none of your business.” At least when this all took a turn for the worst, you could claim that you tried to be reasonable.

“Oh c’mon. Izzy was always following you around like a stray, drooling over you. You’re telling me you’re not just fucking him because you know he’s obsessed with you and it would make me look bad.”

Izzy looked away from you both, suddenly finding the thread count of his blanket incredibly interesting. Clearly he must have shared some of Edward’s thoughts and that only made you angrier.

“Fuck you, Ed,” you snarled, suddenly protective, “Izzy has always been my friend, you know that.”

Whenever Edward would disappear for an undisclosed amount of time, usually when Jack was around but not always, it was you and Izzy that would maintain the ship together. It was Izzy you would spend your time with, and after getting over your initial annoyance with Edward’s disappearing act, you would find yourself not even caring that much. You and Izzy had always been close, always been there for each other, and Edward knew that.

“It’s my fault that I didn’t realise what I felt for him before. I’m trying to make that right now,” you were seconds away from jumping up from the cot and shoving him out of Izzy’s cabin.

Edward’s glare turned dangerously neutral. “We’re you fucking him when we were together?” 

“Fuck you!” Without even realising, you were up on your feet, stepping up to Edward. Izzy shot to his feet behind you, standing still and careful. “You don’t get to make accusations like that,” you spat at the dread pirate captain. When Edward only snarled back, you swallowed down your rage and spoke stiffly. “No. I wasn’t fucking him, but maybe I should’ve been. Maybe I should have just been with him instead of you in the first fucking place.”

“...fuck you,” Edward growled. “Is it because I’m with Stede now?”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself as you stepped back from him, you were not going to have this argument. You had to be better than this. You could deny it all you liked and it would be the complete truth, but Edward would believe what he wanted until he calmed down.

“Get out, Edward,” you ordered lowly. You didn’t give him a chance to protest even when he tried, “get out now and I won’t tell Stede that you’re such a jealous fuck.”

Edward gave another snarl before storming off, you were just glad that it was that easy to get rid of him. The door slammed behind him, shaking on its hinges.

You let out a breath and turned around, watching as Izzy tugged his pants on. You didn’t know what to say, partly hoping Izzy might speak, partly hoping neither of you had to speak and could just let things settle down for a moment. 

Unfortunately, Izzy did speak. His words making you ache. 

“Maybe you should go…”

“Iz-”

“It’s not worth it,” Izzy wouldn’t even meet your gaze, wouldn't even look at you.“You know how Ed can get…” 

“What’s not worth it, exactly?” you asked, not taking your eyes off of him even if he refused to look at you.

“Me. I’m not worth it,” his gaze snapped up to meet your own, something heartbreaking about it.

“Iz, love-” 

“Are you just doing this to piss off Ed?” he asked. He was accusing you but it sounded like he believed it well enough, that there was just a part of him hoping that you would deny it.

“No!” you answered sternly, not wanting to leave any room for doubt. “Izzy, that’s not what-do you really think that?” your voice cracked. Had Izzy been worried about this the whole time?

“I’m not Blackbeard. Either you are doing this because he’d hate it or because I’ve always just been your second choice,” Izzy concluded sorrowfully.

“Izzy, no. Please listen to me,” you pleaded, ready to beg as much as he needed, as you walked up to him. “When I came back to the ship and saw you and Ed, I was more excited to see you, you were my best friend. Seeing you again made me realise some things. This honestly isn’t about Ed, it’s about us,” you promised.

“You know he can get jealous.” Even Izzy wasn’t completely sure what he meant by that, if he was accusing you of some plot or warning you of how Edward might react.

“I know, which is why I was hoping it would take longer for him to find out. How could I have been doing this to get a reaction out of Edward when I didn’t even want him finding out yet?” you asked and Izzy had to admit that you made a good point. 

“Izzy,” you gently took one of his hands in yours. “Look, neither me nor Ed were great in that relationship. We weren’t good for each other in the long run but we had fun and got into trouble, and maybe that was what I wanted then but it’s not what I want now. Now, I want somebody to care for and have care for me, somebody to rely on and love. I want something real, a real love that doesn’t just burn out. And I want that with you, Iz-love.”

“I want that with you too,” Izzy breathed out, like speaking any louder might break him. 

“I promise you. Whether Ed was here or not, I’d want you, I’d want to be with you. If Ed wasn’t with Stede, if he was single, even if he wanted me back, I don’t want him anymore. It’s you that I think about nearly every second of every day. I’m crazy about you, Iz,” you confessed, nothing you hadn’t already tried to tell him over the last month.

Overwhelmed with feelings, so much having happened in the last few minutes, Izzy knew he had to do something but he couldn’t find the words to fit. Instead, he surged forward to meet you in a clumsy but passionate kiss, needing to get those emotions out, needing you to feel them. And you did, giving just as good as you got, clinging right back to him.

This wouldn’t be the last time you had to defend your relationship to Edward in some way but it felt like a strong start. You hoped that now that Ed had got out his initial outburst he would calm enough to do a little introspection. You hoped that he would see that nobody took anything from anyone, that he now got to be happy and now so did you and Izzy. 

Either way, Edward would just have to accept it because you had taken Izzy for granted once, lost him once, and you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

[relativelydefected]

I havnt posted in awhile. I just keep finding myself in deeper darker holes every time I turn around. Just one right after the other. It gets tough to think about let alone write about.

My mom is in the hospital again. She passed out 3 times this week again. My dad told me his struggles with bringing her up the stairs. Picking her up off the floor of their bedroom cause she couldn’t get on the bed. Went to visit her she got up to get me something and fell again.. she had two cat scans done. She has to wear a heart monitor to monitor her for an irregular heart beat. They found she had a small brain aneurism in her head.. as well as a spot in another part of her head as well. Which may be the reasons she keeps passing out. The past two days she’s had nausea. Which might explain the things going on in her head.

I quit therapy. For the simple fact that if something is to happen to my mom. I’m gonna be a wreck regardless. So no amount of therapy is going to help me with that. And I’m not using that as a scapegoat or an excuse. It’s the fucking truth. I don’t care who tells me otherwise.

No amount of breathing exercises or coping mechanism is going to help me with this portion of my life.

The kids are doing well. My daughter is clueless as to what is going on and my son is slowly starting to take into an account the seriousness of the situation. He cried about it last week and all I could tell him is that she’s fighting this she’s strong and that we’re gonna get through this together.

Things I should probably say to myself but knowing the reality of the situation. It’s tough to think that way while at the same time trying to prepare for something that might be inevitable.

I havnt been to the bike path for the past few days due to having a cold and this bipolar New England weather.

I even bought a longboard. Just to try something new.

Havnt been able to fully try it out cause it’s either raining or I’m sick or my kids are sick and I have to be home.

Havnt been able to see my mom the past week cause I’m fighting off this cold that doesn’t want to go away.

On a more semi positive note.

I met this guy on tiktok we talked for two days before we decided to hang out. What’s funny is he lives right down the street from me..He’s a single dad I’m a single mom.. he has a good job his own place.. he’s younger than me and that’s a first for me but I thought why not give it a shot. Really cute.

Has a stutter but that is also really cute .. we are both gamers we both like studio ghibli and Star Wars. We went to the mall he was so nice and easy to talk to he gave he gave me a hug it was just really lovely. It felt good to be treated like a lady after 11 years of being treated like garbage..I definitely felt a connection. Then of course my own insecurities took hold and I think I messed up the entire thing. He seems like such a good dad and he has all these nice qualities but some how some way I always manage to mess up a good thing. That’s my life. It’s like I psych myself out every time. I can’t just let things flow or be. Maybe he’s not attracted to me? I don’t know..

He has a twitch I watch it, try to message but don’t hear back so not much I can do 🤷🏽‍♀️ think im just gonna stop messaging at this point.

It felt good to go out shop and have fun and not think about the crap going on in my life so for like 5 hours I was at peace for the first time in months.

Good things never last. They are rare but fleeting.

You’d think I’d be used to it by now but im not.

But I tried right? Even if it didn’t work out.. I can say I tried to meet someone and put myself out there.

But I also feel guilt about being happy. When everyone around me is falling apart.

Maybe when I go back to work it will be a distraction from all this. But I can’t go back till I figure out my daughters situation with school or whether i need to put her in daycare full time.

Cause I can’t do both and I have no one to help me in this situation unfortunately.

I’ll try to update more. If you guys have prayers I could always use them.

#depression #anxiety #terminalcancer #stage4cancer #breastcancer #mentalhealth #life

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 195: Hobbies

"Alright, Mr. Potter," the witch conducting the interview said, "tell us about some of your hobbies. What do you enjoy doing in your free time?"

Harry blinked, leaned back in the chair, and tried to reign in the magic the was crackling in his fingertips. It was bursting at the seams to get out and Harry wasn't sure what to do with it; that's why he was here.

"Well," he started, "I am really busy." The witch hummed sympathetically. "I've got a lot on my plate with work, and functions, and fundraisers. And of course I see my friends and my godson-"

"So, no hobbies then?" she interrupted.

His jaw snapped shut. He's sure he'd always meant to find a hobby, to find something that brought him joy.

"Well," she said softly, watching the magic sparking in Harry's palms, little flickers of light and heat, like a miniature heat lightning storm in his hand. "I'm just an intake nurse, but," Harry looked up from his hands, taking in her face, reading her like he read suspects, "It sounds to me like you hold an awful lot of people and things together."

He shrugged, it's what had always been expected of him.

"My question, is who holds you?"

Harry's eyes prickled with tears and it startled him, the visceral reaction he'd had to her words.

She didn't seem to require a response, she simply gave him a little nod and stepped out of the room, leaving to return the results to the healer that would be seeing Harry next.

(Read more below the cut)

He sighed and looked down at his hand once more, watching the little flashes of light and trying not to think about what she'd just asked him.

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

The healer had told him that he needed to take time off of work. He'd given him centering activities, told him to sleep more, exercise, and find a hobby that he could do with his hands.

At the time it had sounded like the healer was just trying to distract him from whatever weird things were going on with his magic, but the DMLE wanted him to take medical leave until it was sorted anyway, so what choice did he have?

He took a beginner pottery class.

The instructor was ancient; Harry couldn't remember the last person he'd met who was that old. He seemed like he might be a bit senile, seeing as he had no idea who Harry was, which was just fine with Harry. But he was patient and kind, and Harry found that he quite enjoyed the time he spent with him.

He'd been truly awful at first, Harry couldn't even get his lumps of clay to center on the wheel. Then once he'd managed to center it, he'd use too much pressure or lift his hands away too quickly and his piece would go all wobbly or simply collapse.

And it was frustrating. Taking the mass of clay off the wheel so that he could start all over again was not something that he relished and it took him weeks to make anything that looked even remotely passable.

But he enjoyed it.

He liked the feel of the soft, wet clay under his hands. He like the way the wheel spun, the way that even the slightest change in his hands changed the structure in front of him.

He liked that when something went wrong, when something was destroyed completely, he could just start again. There was no great consequence for getting something wrong and that eased something inside of him.

Harry slowly got better at pottery, and maybe something inside of him was starting to get better too.

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

After the month that he'd been given as medical leave, Harry didn't really want to go back.

His magic still sparked and flared when he was stressed, when his emotions rose, and nobody at Mungo's seemed close to solving that mystery.

So he did the only think that he could think to do; he submitted his resignation to the DMLE and left. The press was everywhere, constantly hounding him and everyone wanted to understand his decision. But Harry didn't know what to say; he'd done his best to explain his condition but people hadn't understood.

And he hadn't been willing to say that he was exhausted. Tired of constantly worrying about his magic flaring and hurting someone. Tired of always being the savior, never being allowed to make a mistake.

It was by chance (or maybe fate) that he stumbled across a shop that sold Turkish Pottery. He immediately fell in love with the colors and patterns, with how beautiful and bright it was. At his sides, his hands twitched with the desire to create something like that; something that sparked joy merely by looking at it.

Booking a portkey to Turkey had been the easiest thing in the world. Spending the next three years learning the craft, practicing, and apprenticing had been the next easiest thing.

Moving back to England had been harder but Molly hadn't been well and he needed to be closer to her. So he'd gotten a little shop in Muggle London with a spot off in the corner where he installed a traditional kick wheel into the floor so that he could make pottery and maybe sell some of it at the same time.

It was working out alright, if he was honest. Only his friends knew that he'd returned, so he never had to worry about random witches and wizards popping into his shop to get a piece of him. And it was good to be close, good to be able to pop over to Ron and Hermione's for dinner, to have tea with Neville, to join Luna for a lunch date, and play a game of pick up Quidditch at the Burrow.

Seven months after returning, Harry had started to let his guard down. He'd started to believe that maybe this was it, this was his life now. Quiet, simple, happy.

And then the door opened, bell tingling merrily, and Harry looked up and everything fell to pieces.

Both literally and metaphorically because his hands released the vase he'd been casting too quickly and the clay wobbled until it collapsed.

But he hardly even noticed because there in his doorway stood none other than Draco Malfoy.

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

To be continued...

[allthatyoulove]

A Heavy Feeling

Bucky Barnes / Female Reader

Summary: A fight with Bucky leaves you feeling alone.

Includes: angst angst angst, tiny fluff towards end, mentions of not eating

Words: 2k

A/N: A little angsty drabble I’ve had sitting in my drafts. I put female reader but it’s pretty general :) Please check out my prompt list! You can request as many prompts as you’d like! Hope you enjoy the story! Feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed, thanks for stopping by :)

~~~

These last few days have probably been some of the worst in my life.

My life thus far has been far from easy, but it’s hard to remember a time where I felt as low as I do now.

I sit at the dining table, using my fork to mess with the food on my plate. Silverware clinks against plates, conversations are lively. Warm lighting fills the room, the huge window allowing a glimpse at the night sky. Everyone is eating and talking, laughing and smiling.

Everyone except Bucky and I.

They know why, which is probably why they were quick to put space between us as we all sat down for dinner. I was the last to come to the table, everyone stopping mid-conversation to look at me with pity. I sat down, and haven’t spoken a word to anyone since. They had eventually ignored the heavy tension tethered between Bucky and I, deciding that constant talking would prevent the chance of an awkward silence crashing over the entire table.

I had told them I could eat in my room, that I didn’t want to make dinner weird for everyone else. They insisted I come. I couldn’t ask Bucky to not come to dinner either, especially when I knew how much he liked sitting down with everyone, taking an hour or two to enjoy the company of who had become his family. No matter how mad I was at him, I could never ask him to give that up.

So that led me here, sitting at the edge of the table, messing with my food. Bucky was sitting across from me, to the very left edge of the table. The farthest seat from mine. Being so far from him was probably worse than sitting right next to him. I only glanced at him a few times, which I was proud of myself for. He was in his black leather jacket, with a black shirt and pants. Everyone had gone out just before dinner, but I didn’t feel up to it.

Seeing Bucky come through the door with a smile on his face made my heart tighten with pain, before I became disgusted with myself on how selfish the reaction was.

He sat at the table now, not talking with anyone. His arms were folded, and he hadn’t touched his food either. Everytime I looked at him he was focused on the same part of the table, zoned out. His brows were dropped, his lips in a soft frown. His eyes were filled with sadness, almost a puppy look. I could feel his eyes shift from the table to me every so often, trying my hardest not to meet his eyes.

We had only been sitting down for around 5 minutes, and I felt like I was suffocating. That’s all I’ve felt these past couple of days.

I’d asked him for space, said I needed to think things through. He respected that and listened, hesitantly. He didn’t go out with everyone as much, staying in his room save for the times Steve dragged him out. I was better at turning down the attempts of them trying to get me to go out. I had barely left my room.

I knew he was hurting, I could see it in his eyes and in the way he carried himself. I wondered if he was hurting as much as I was. I couldn’t sleep at night, couldn’t leave my bed. Couldn’t think without him next to me. Couldn’t think with him next to me.

I set my fork down, sighing to myself as the group was heavily engaged in conversation. I became alert of every action I made, feeling Bucky’s eyes on me once more. I gulped in anticipation, not thinking before drifting my eyes to his.

Our eyes met, my own filling with tears. His eyebrows pulled together, his own eyes filling with emotion. His mouth opened to say something, before I abruptly stood up, picking up my plate and taking it with me to my room. I could hear the conversations pause, confused sentences being muttered before another door shut, a few doors down from mine. Bucky’s. He must’ve left right after I did.

They eventually continued talking, but I stopped listening. I tossed my plate on a table, almost breaking it. I paced across my room, back and forth. I let the tears fall freely down my cheek, bringing a hand up to my mouth to be quiet. I sat down on the floor, holding my face in my hands. Not a single thought went through my head, but I couldn’t stop crying.

A few minutes passed before I had no more tears to shed, quiet and dry sobs leaving my mouth occasionally. I calmed down, using the breathing exercises Bucky had taught me. I almost started crying again at the thought, but I had nothing left in me.

I sat on the floor, sniffling and breathing deep breaths. Staring at the ground, no particular thought staying for more than a second.

My head shot up as a soft knock came to my door. A single knock, nothing more. Almost a tap.

I didn’t need to ask who it was, I knew. I held my breath, staring at the door. He said nothing. I crawled over to the door, holding my ear to the thin wood. I could hear the thumping of his heart, feeling it against the door. He must’ve been sitting against it- on the floor as well. His shaky breaths went through the wood.

I sighed, sitting with my back right where he was on the other side. I set my head on it, producing a tiny thump sound. The same sound came from the other side a second later.

My hand went up to my mouth again, sobs threatening to break from my throat. It was so painful, knowing he was sitting with me on the other side of the door. Not being able to touch him. The sound of his heartbeat comforted the pain slightly. I breathed in and out, in and out. Trying to calm down. I lost track of how long I was sitting there, scared he would leave first. I decided I couldn’t handle it if he did.

I didn’t try to listen to what he did on the other side of the door as I suddenly stood up, striding over to my bed and throwing myself under the covers. I didn’t come back out.

My eyes shot open, sitting up. The moonlight shone through the window the size of my wall, illuminating the covers. I had fallen asleep.

My head had found its way out of the covers, as they now sat loosely below my ribs. I rubbed my eyes with one hand, running it through my hair. I sighed as I looked around the room, yawning. I spotted my plate still sitting on the table. I got up, grabbing it and walking over to my door. I slowly opened it, cringing as it creaked. I peeked out, looking both ways down the hall. It was almost pitch black, save for the window that was providing light sitting at the end of the hallway. The coast was clear.

I closed my door slightly, walking to the kitchen. The dining table was clear and cleaned, leaving no trace of dinner earlier.

I put the food into a container, writing my name on it before shoving it into the fridge for later.

I turned around, walking back to my room. I slowly opened the door, hearing something. I paused, waiting. I didn’t hear anything. Was it my creaking door? I went to start to open it again when I heard it.

Whimpering.

My entire body froze for a split second before I strode straight to his room. I knew that sound, and I knew what it meant.

I cracked his door open, peeking in.

Bucky was laying in the middle of his bed, the sheets below his waist. He was shirtless, his vibranium arm wrapped over a pillow. The image pulled on my heart strings, tying it into a knot as he twitched, his other arm moving at his side.

I walked over to the side of the bed, putting my hands on it to hold myself up as I leaned over him.

“Bucky.” I whispered. His face turned just barely, still asleep. Still in his nightmare.

It had been so long since he had one, I forgot what to do. I reached a hand up, setting it on his metal bicep and shaking it lightly.

“Buck-”

I was halfway through his name when he turned around, pulling me into the bed with him and flipping me on my back. I gasped as he put his forearm against my neck, applying pressure. His eyes had snapped open, frantic and scared. Violent.

My arms pulled at his arm, shooting him pleading eyes as I struggled to breath. A few seconds passed before he let out a sharp breath, slumping as he seemingly came back to his body. His eyes shot open even wider, instantly taking his arm off of my neck. I gasped for air, breathing hard and fast. His eyes shot between mine, confusion and sadness and regret painted over them.

I stared at him as I caught my breath, waiting as his mouth stayed open- trying to find words.

He closed his mouth, backing away and sitting on the edge of the bed. I stayed in my spot for a second, cautious. I was unsure of what to do until I heard a sob escape him. I instantly sat up, my hand going to his shoulder. I tried to pull him to face me, but he remained facing the wall. His head was in his hands, his shoulders starting to shake as he cried. I walked on my knees, my chest against his back as I wrapped my arms around his waist.

I laid my head against his back, listening to the sound of his heart and breathing deeply- hoping he would soon follow. He continued shaking as I soothingly ran my fingers across his stomach, patient. Waiting.

“I thought they had stopped.” He let out, his voice cracking.

“I know. I know, baby.” I said, holding him tighter.

A few minutes passed as he gradually stopped shaking, occasionally twitching as he copied my breathing. He picked his head from his hands, as I raised my own from his back. I moved my body so I could look at him from the side. His eyes were puffy, his nose and cheeks red and tear stained. I brought one of my hands to his face, bringing it to meet mine and rub his cheek with my thumb. He stared at me, at my lips. I wiped the tears from his face, looking at him with love. He returned it, looking at me as if it was the first time.

“I’m so sorry.” He said, his voice rough and filled with regret. I shook my head, rejecting his apology with the motion. He opened his mouth to speak again when I brought his face to mine, our lips meeting.

My eyebrows scrunched together as I pushed my lips into his. He didn’t hesitate in kissing me back, his hands coming up to hold my face, to bring me closer. His lips perfectly molded into mine, the salty taste of his tears mixing between our tongues. Our noses bumped into each other repeatedly as we messily tried to both apologize and profess our undying love into the kiss.

I slowly pulled away after a few minutes, resting my forehead against his as I caught my breath. We looked at each other’s lips, chests heaving as my thumb rubbed his cheek. His hand drawing circles on my back. I broke out into a smile, him following me. I fell on my side back onto the bed, bringing him with me.

We laid across from each other, an inch apart. I brought my fingers down to his lips, pulling his lip and hearing it fall back with a pop. I looked at all of his features, knowing them by memory but still wanting them forever seared into my brain. I missed him.

Being in his room with the moon casting light over us, wrapped in his arms, I felt so happy. After days of nothing but a hole where my heart was, I felt complete. I was home.

We had a lot to talk about, but it could wait. I wanted to enjoy this moment.

[tojitiddies]

✰ TEACH

pairing ⋆ toji fushiguro x fem!reader

synopsis ⋆ in all your years of teaching you’ve never encountered a parent like toji.

warnings ⋆ vaginal sex, oral sex, creampie, dacryphilia if you squint, dumbification

ꔵ the first time you ever saw toji fushiguro was around second month of school, when megumi had began acting up in class. you knew megumi to be a spoiled rich kid, as he was always being dropped off and picked up in sleek black cars with tinted windows, along with his older sister tsumiki. sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of the driver if megumi ever needed assistance getting his bag out the car, but that was the only semblance of adult supervision you’d seen megumi receive outside of school faculty.

megumi was always dressed crisply and his meals efficiently packed. he really didn’t seem to understand the concept of sharing or caring and relied on his tiny fists to solve conflicts. this was all a stark contrast to his sister tsumiki, seeing as his older sister’s teachers only sang her praises. truly you had tried to get through to the seven year old, but out of all the trouble makers you’d ever taught, megumi really liked to work your nerves.

which brought you here, at a parent-teacher conference with megumi’s father, toji fushiguro. his large figure looked comical as he sat in one of the small plastic, colored chairs, usually inhabited by first graders of course. he wore a plain black t-shirt and white slacks. he also had a black blazer that he he had draped over the side of his chair. the side of his lips was decorated with a menacingly large scar that twitched occasionally as he listened to you speak.

“... all i want is for megumi to have a good time here in first grade. i know he and his sister are new so making an adjustment may be difficult, but i’d like to make the transition for young megumi as smooth as possible.” you finished as you fiddled with your fingers.

toji shifted in his chair with a slight grunt. “mrs. ____ is it?” he asked. you shook your head.

“just miss actually.” you corrected him shyly. his entire demeanor was so intimidating you didn’t want to insult him. you almost miss the mischievous glint in his eye as you lift your eyes to face him again.

“i understand your concerns with my son. i had no idea what a little shit he was being. especially to such a beautiful young woman as yourself.” his tone is suggestive, contradicting the polite smile adorning his lips.

you smiled uncomfortably. “thank you, but i would never think of your son as...a little shit. i’m sure he has a sweet side somewhere. which is why, i thought maybe megumi could benefit from some sort of counseling?” you suggested, pushing forward a slip of paper. toji leaned forward taking the document from the desk and began to read over it, his brow quirking up in interest. “alongside being a first grade teacher i also serve as a counselor here at the elementary school.” you began to explain. “although i’ve never counseled a student of my own in fear of bias, i think it would be wise if megumi had someone whom he was acquainted with.”

toji set the slip back down and set his gaze on you. you squeezed your thighs together as he fixed you with his stare. he really was intensely attractive. “hm, how unfair is it that my son gets more alone time with you than i do?” this time he smirked. so it wasn’t your imagination, he was flirting with you.

“mr. fushiguro?”

“i’m only teasing teach.” he chuckled. “i agree. i think we could all benefit from megumi’s counseling,” he folded his arms over his broad chest, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt. “so when does he start?” your eyes zoned in on toji’s biceps before blinking back up at him he pretended not notice you ogling him. “ah well...next wednesday perhaps? all i need is for you to sign the slip.” you said sliding him a pen from your desk.

your fingers brushed against his as he took the pen. you tried to ignore it, knowing he was probably only try to get a rise out of you. he began to scribble his signature, once he finished he stood up from his seat and you followed suit. “thank you mrs. ____ for contacting me.” he said, holding out his hand for you to shake.

you took it, letting his large hands envelope yours. “ah...again it’s just ms. ____. i’m not married.” you corrected him again with a lighthearted laugh. toji smirked at that before he leant in towards you. startled, you froze, afraid he might kiss you, until you realized he was only leaning towards your ear. “we’ll be in touch then, ms. ____.” he spoke in a lower tone. you were left standing there completely dumbstruck as he retrieved his blazer and threw it over his shoulder.

“yes...” you murmured quietly in response as he left you alone in the classroom.

ꔵ three months into counseling with megumi you had begun to see progress. his angered outbursts only came in waves and he had stopped using his hands and started using his words. his attitude toward you had also warmed up and he had even began giving you hugs. you were happy all the exercises you’d been working on with him were finally starting to pay off.

the only big issue? his father.

every time you spoke to him there was always a flirty or suggestive undertone. he never crossed the line but he would constantly get close to doing so. there was one counseling session a couple weeks ago when he came to pick up megumi (something he had suspiciously started doing ever since your counseling had started). you were both standing outside the door of the classroom, with megumi inside coloring, as you briefed toji on his counseling session.

“so he’s doing well then, i’m glad. but how are you doing teach? i know dealing with these little brats all day can’t be good on your stress.” he said, resting his hand on your forearm. you glanced down at his thumb caressing your skin before laughing nervously, brushing his hand down. “ah...really i’m alright mr. fushi - “

“i’ve told you to call me toji.” he interrupted, his voice dropping to that low tone once again.

you cleared your throat, trying to settle the butterflies that formed in your stomach. “thank you toji. but really i don’t mind it. i’ve been doing this for almost eight years now..” you tried your best not to let your voice waver under this suggestive tension.

toji stepped forward, the space between the both of you becoming almost non existent as your breasts came in contact with his chest. “well just know teach...” he murmured, lifting his fingers to your chin, “if you ever need any stress relief - “

“papa!”

you jumped back from toji like a frightened feline, while toji stood in place clearly unfazed by his child’s sudden presence. you’d been so focused on trying not to jump toji’s bones right then and there, you hadn’t even noticed megumi open the classroom door. “can we go home now? i’m hungry.” he whined, brandishing a cute pout on his face.

you couldn’t help but smile at the cute kid. toji bent down and picked him up, resting him on his hip. “hungry huh? well you can eat this knuckle sandwich for interrupting ms. ____ and i.” he teased, playfully twisting his fist into megumi’s face. megumi giggled slapping away his large hand before turning to look at you. “sorry ms. ____.” he apologized sweetly. yet another skill he’d learned from his counseling sessions.

you grinned and leaned forward to pinch his cheek. “don’t worry about it lovebug! it wasn’t that important anyway.” you chirped, glancing over at toji to see his lips twitch into a frown. you held back a giggle at how identical his pout was to little megumi’s. you leaned into the classroom to take megumi’s backpack off the hook, which toji took and swung over his free arm.

“say goodbye to ms. ____, megumi.” toji instructed. megumi raise his arm to wave, which you met with a small high five instead. “i’ll see you in the morning megumi!” you cheered. toji glanced back at you briefly. “don’t forget about my offer ms. ___.” he said with a wink, before turning back around and walking off with his son.

once he and megumi were out if sight you fell back against the classroom door with a whine. toji fushiguro would truly be the end of you.

ꔵ the afternoon sun shone through your window as you finished up the last of your student reports. as you began to pack up, you heard a knock at your classroom door. “come in!” you called out, not bothering to look up from your work.

you sighed as you gave up on organization and just began to sweep the papers into a folder, but before you could finish, a large hand fell on top of yours. you let out a yelp, looking up to find toji fushiguro smirking down at you. he looked as though he’d come straight from work, blessing you with a tight button down shirt and black slacks. god, he was a work of art.

“afternoon teach.” he greeted you.

“mr. fushiguro what a surprise. what are you doing here? megumi’s gone home already hasn’t he?” you asked, trying to keep calm as a million more thoughts raced through your mind.

“ah, that’s right. he’s long gone. ‘s just you and me.” he said as he fixed you with his strong gaze, his hand closing around yours. “i came because i wanted to thank you. i haven’t seen megumi like this in awhile. i know this was mostly a school thing, but he’s been less of a little shit at home too,” he informed you, his thumb slowly caressing your hand.

you were becoming putty under his touch. “yes...i’m glad gumi’s doing do well at home too. all i want is the best for him.” you answered, stumbling over your words a bit. toji brought your hand up to his lips kissing your knuckles. “mhm...so i was wondering if you’d thought about my offer?” he asked, looking back at you through those lustful eyes.

“mr. fushiguro - “

“toji.”

“t-toji...i’m delighted you would pay me a visit simply to thank me, but it really isn’t necessary.” you could feel his aura start to envelope you, the tension between you two thickening with lust. the most he’d done was kiss your knuckles and already you were trying to keep from rubbing your thighs together.

still holding firmly onto your hand, toji began to walk around your desk. “ms. ____, i insist you let me properly thank you because i feel you’re deserving of it. do you not?” he murmured, gingerly pulling you up out of your seat, guiding your hand towards his chest. your fingers instinctively hooked around the fabric where he’d left his shirt unbuttoned. his other arm snaked its way around your waist.

“toji...we shouldn’t. this is highly unprofessional, i could get fired. and what about megumi?” you rambled, trying to keep your composure. toji leaned down and began to press sweet wet kisses down your neck. you sighed out, letting your hand fan out across his chest.

“megumi will be fine teach. no one has to know anything as long as you can keep a secret. now let me take care of you.” he whispered, licking a stripe up your neck. his knee came to situate between your thighs, you wasted no time grinding against him. a soft moan escaped your lips as you let your head fall back against your shoulders.

“kiss me...please?” you mumured, hooking your arm around his neck. toji’s scar twitched as his lips formed a smirk. he lifted his head, grazing your lips against his before pressing forward. the kiss was rough and sensual, both of you devouring each other in a clash of lips and tongue. you moaned into his mouth, continuing to grind against his thigh. when your lips finally separated, a string of saliva connected you before dripping down onto your blouse.

“enjoying my thigh teach?” he taunted, flexing his thigh muscles and causing you to let out a breathy moan again. “y-you’re teasing me.” you whined desperately trying to grind your clothed clit against his thigh muscles. the hand on your waist slid down taking your thigh and pinning it to his waist, granting you better access. “so needy for me hm?” he murmured into your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth. “tell me what you want baby.”

your hand fisted his collar as you desperately ground yourself against him. “please fuck me toji. i can’t take your constant teasing anymore.” you whimpered, nuzzling into his shoulder. toji chuckled at that before reaching behind you, clearing your desk in one fell swoop. papers and files fluttered to the ground as he lifted you up on top of your desk, spreading your legs.

you both hastily begin unbuttoning your shirts, one of your buttons popping off in the frenzy. toji chuckles as he lowers himself to his knees, his chest muscles rippling as he moves. “i can’t believe you have the nerve to walk around in a tight little skirt like this.” he laughs wickedly, sliding up your pencil skirt until it bunches up at your waist. you feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as the wet spot in your panties becomes noticeable. toji slides his finger up your covered folds, the slick coating his finger prints. “how lovely.” he purrs to himself.

“please...” you whine breathily, scooting forward hoping he’d take the hint. he chuckles darkly blowing against your clothed clit before pulling aside your underwear to marvel at your dripping cunt. “look at that.” he marvels before letting his tongue dip between your folds. you let out a choked moan. it had been so long since you’d been touched this way by someone other than yourself, it felt like heaven. he paused only to hook his fingers around your panties and discard them who knows where.

just as quick as he was gone, he’s back to hungrily bury his tongue in your cunt, switching between prodding your hole with his tongue and sucking your clit. your fingers fisted his raven hair, as you loudly praised his skill through moans and chants. the wet sounds of him slurping and licking up your arousal egged you on to grind against his mouth. waves of arousal just keep coming, whatever his tongue couldn’t catch dripping onto the desk.

your thighs threatened to close around his head as you felt yourself coming close to climaxing. “fuck stop! toji i’m gonna cum,” you whine out, weakly trying to push his head away. you hear him hum in amusement as he instead, moves his hands up to spread your thighs back further. his tongue works your hole, slowly spreading it wider before he’s able to curl his tongue inside. you let out a loud cry, your hips jerking and bucking as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. your vision spots as you cum all over his tongue, your thighs threatening to snap around his head but his hands keep you in place.

toji finishes licking up the rest of your arousal before rising up from between your legs, towering over your trembling figure. one hand comes up to your chin, roughly tilting your head up to look directly at him. “open,” he commands, to which you obey immediately. your tongue rolls out lewdly as he spits your arousal down your throat. “good girl,” he purrs. “now turn around, i’m about to fuck the living daylights out of you.”

eagerly you turn around on your stomach, thankful for the desk supporting your torso as your sure your wobbly legs would not be able to. you hear toji unbuckling behind you as your spread your legs slightly, swaying your hips hoping to entice him to move a bit faster. toji’s hands come to spread over the globe of your ass cheeks, kneading them in his palms.

“you’re so fucking sexy. i’m sure you already know ever since we’ve met this ass has been all i ever think about.” he chuckled, letting his hardened cock slide back and forth between your folds. you let out a whine moving your hips back against him. “i want you to fill me up so badly, please hurry.” your croak out, your voice hoarse from your previous climax. toji brings down his hand against your ass harshly, receiving a yelp in response. “and who you do you think you are ordering me, huh teach? i’m not one of your little first graders baby,” he grunts, spreading your ass cheeks again, letting the tip of his cock tease your aching hole.

“beg for it.” he taunts in a sing-song tone, sliding his cock up and down and against your cunt. your let out a small puff of air as you turn your head back to look at him with your pleading eyes. “please toji...please stuff me full. i haven’t been fucked in so long i wanna be filled up please.” you whimpered, your hips stuttering against his cock, now lubed up with all the juices he’d collected. your begging seemed to please toji, his scar twitching as his lips formed a smug smirk. “good girl.”

toji slammed his cock inside you, no regard for easing you on to his length whatsoever. tears pricked your eyes at the sharp pain, your insides spasming around him. “shit, you feel like a fucking virgin squeezing me so tight. you weren’t kidding about not being fucked in so long, hm?” he chuckled. you didn’t get the chance to respond as he was already pulling out to slam back in. it hurt so good, the pain and the pleasure of being stretched around his girth. he continued to thrust harshly inside your cunt only receiving broken moans and strings of curses from your lips.

his hand came to your hair, his fingers roughly grabbing your head back. your arousal began to return once more, dripping down his cock and making the most obscene squelching and sucking noises. “such a naughty teacher, letting a parent fuck her right in the classroom, huh?” toji’s gruff voice came from behind you. you whined, one of your hands reaching behind you to spread your ass cheeks to grabt him more access. “feels so fucking good, fuck me harder, please.” you manage to say through clenched teeth. “harder baby? you got it.”

before you can even think to react, his arms come to circle around your thighs, lifting you up against his chest. you let out a small cry, your arm instinctively circling around his neck for upper support. toji holds you up, legs spread over his cock. the cool air of the classroom hits your clit causing you whine out in frustration. toji chuckles. “impatient, are we teach?” he murmurs before ramming his hips up into you, his cock sliding back in immediately. “fuck!” you blurt out in surprise.

this new position had him hitting you in places no one had ever discovered and your tits bouncing up and down with fervor. your cunt fluttered, hearing his grunts so much closer to your ear. your lips fall slack, your tongue rolling out ever so slightly as he fucks you dumb. everything just feels so fucking good. “fuck keep squeezing around me just like that teach, i’m gonna cum.” he growls into your ear “fuck...stuff me full of your cum t-toji,” you sob, feeling yourself come closer to your second climax as well.

you bring your free hand down to your clit, rubbing it slow in contrast his quick thrusting. you wanted to savor this feeling. “god, keep touching yourself just like that baby,” he moans, swiveling his head to sink his teeth into to your shoulder. everything seems to slow, the pleasurable drag of his hardened cock against your walls, him hitting your spot just right, the way you sucked him back in as he pulled out...

“toji i’m - “ you can’t even finish before a wave of pleasure knocks over you, your vision spotting once again as he brings you to your climax for a second time. toji continues to fuck into you faster chasing his own high before you feel the spurts of thick cum filling your insides. you’re barely able to think, your fucked out daze taking over. you barely notice him move you off his softening length to set you down. you immediately grab ahold of him, your legs unable to support you at the time. you can feel his cum and your arousal begin to trickle out from your cunt, earning a satisfied whine from your lips. toji laughs softly, leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead. “i haven’t had a good fuck like that in awhile. you were better than i imagined, taking me like that.” he spoke, his voice sounding muffled to you as your daze still hadn’t worn off. you hum softly nuzzling into his warm chest.

toji bites his lip as he looks down at you, you’re just so fucking cute clinging to him that way. he lifts you up on to the desk, carefully dressing you back up. he can’t find your panties so he just pulls you skirt back down from where it had gathered at your waist. he tucks your breasts back into your bra and picks up your blouse from the floor. he smirks at the missing button, doing what he can to close your blouse back up.

you smile gently, watching toji perform his aftercare. this must be the fatherly side of him you rarely get to see. after he’s finished dressing you both back up, he sets his gaze back on you. “so, i’ll see you next wednesday ms. ____?” he asks, settling back into his usual smug demeanor. you scoff before muttering out a small confirmation. he grins that smug toji grin. “perfect then. i’ll be sure to tell megumi you said hello.” he walks out shutting the door behind him, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.

authors note ⋆ hi! this is my first time ever writing and posting something here on tumblr <3 i really hope this wasn’t too bad this took me like three days to write and i deleted and added a bunch of stuff so i hope it isn’t too wacky. thank you for reading!

[the-passenger-if]

one of my favorite angst tropes is someone breaking up with their partner in order to keep them safe! how would the ros handle this if newman did this to them? (also, would any of the ro’s break up with newman to keep them safe?)

combining it with

How would the ROs react to Newman who just texts them out of nowhere and the message just say "I love you always bye sorry" as if Newman was in a hurry and no matter how hard they try to contact them, no one picks up.

also

some angST!! How would the ROs react to Newman breaking up with them after being together for a looooong time?

and

ROs reaction to Newman wanting to break up with them after a while of being together?

Jonny and Horizon would break up with Newman to keep them safe. Fiama knows she can keep both of them safe, and Roach will do their best but if they have to die then they will die together xD

Combining Newman just up and disappears one day with Newman breaks up with RO after being together for a long time.

Long angsty scenarios under the cut.

“Mommy… kisses me… on the… cheek. Cheek. Cheek, Bruno. Listen, cheeeek. That’s chek.”

Bruno mutters the word ‘cheek’ under his breath a few times before adding another ‘e’ just on top of the first one.

“No,” Fiama tells him. “Erase the word and rewrite it. Well this time.”

Her son scowls but he does as he’s told. His round eyes slip away from the exercise book to the front door and stay there.

“Bruno,” she calls him. “Bruno.” He looks at her, and she knows. She just knows what he’s thinking about. Who he’s thinking about. “Cheek.” She points at the book.

He writes down the word very slowly and forcefully on the page. She still can read the wrong word under it, but she decides to let it go.

“The chick eats corn,” Fiama continues, “The… chick… Chick, Bruno.”

He bites his lower lip, staring at her.

“Remember the chicks? Grandpa took you to see them…”

Bruno mutters ‘chick’ under his breath a couple of times, then his eyes go to the front door again.

“Bruno,” and she doesn’t want to lose her patience like this, but she’s tired and she wants to… she doesn’t know what she wants to do yet, but doing homework in the living room with a very distracted Bruno isn’t it.

Her boy scowls at her, pencil shaking in a tiny angry fist. He opens his mouth to retort when someone knocks on the door. His eyes widen, the scowl vanishes. He jumps off the chair, homework and pencil and Fiama completely forgotten.

“Bruno!” she calls out, but he’s already dashing to the door and yanking it open.

“Oh! Hi there, rabbit,” Fiama’s mother says.

“No!” Bruno replies trying to close the door again.

That’s when Fiama stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you shut the door in your grandma’s face!”

“Don’t you grab him like that!” her mother yells at her, and she lets go of Bruno as if he was a hot iron.

“Why are you here?” Bruno screams at Fiama’s mother. “I wanted it to be them!”

“Bruno!” Fiama scolds.

“No!” her boy yells at her. “This is your fault! You did this!” Then he’s running off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Fiama isn’t the type to care about metaphors, but right now she completely understands what people mean when they say 'it felt like a bucket of cold water'.

The one that breaks the silence is her mother. “Well, didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“Not now, mom.” Fiama grits out.

“Let us hope it doesn’t affect Bruno too much…”

“I said not now.” The glare she sends her mother’s way is enough for the woman to shake her head and turn away.

Fiama closes the door very carefully, and then rests her back against it, scowl set on the table where Bruno’s homework was left unfinished. A thought like a flash; the table toppling over, books and pencils, and the ceramic fruit basket flying in the air. It passes quickly. Fiama is taking slow deep breaths. She still remembers what happened the last time she let her emotions get the best of her. That familiar wave of shame and guilt washes over her as she remembers Bruno’s stunned silence when he found her sobbing in her room, sat in the midst of broken pieces of whatever she had lying about in there.

A single tear rolls down her cheek, one Fiama swiftly washes away. She promises herself this is the last she’ll ever waste on them.

---

There's one lonely cloud floating in the blue sky and Jonny's eyes have been following its snail-like march for the last ten minutes or so. His neck is starting to feel stiff but he doesn't shift his position; watching the lazy parade happening outside of his window has kept his mind in silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

It isn’t surprising that it doesn’t last. Somebody is knocking on his bedroom door and Jonny really doesn't have the energy for this. He closes his eyes shut, focuses on the inverted shadow cloud burned in his tired retina. The door clicks open and he keeps still on his bed, chest barely moving. It's childish, he knows this, but it's the only thing that seems to keep Joaquin and Lucia from asking how he's doing or commenting about his love life, or even worse, trying to give him advice.

The visitor lingers there where they stand for another moment, before closing the door again. Jonny thinks he’s been left alone to go back to what apparently has become his favorite hobby as of late, when he hears approaching footsteps.

“I know you’re awake.”

“Don’t tell me they called you,” he says in a drawl, opening his eyes and fixing them on the man sitting on the bed across from his. Quino has the same green eyes, straight nose, and wavy brown hair Jonny has, however, his twin chooses to wear it shorter and well out of his face. He is, after all, the good-looking one.

“They didn’t,” Quino assures him with a conciliatory smile. Jonny’s skepticism must be written all over his face because his brother crosses his heart and shrugs.

“Why are you here?” Jonny knows why, but he also knows Quino too well and his twin has never been the type to start awkward conversations unless Jonny opens that door for him first.

“Do I need a reason? Can’t I—?”

“They broke up with me,” Jonny cuts him off, “I’m feeling like shit, I just want to sleep until I forget I ever met them, but every time people ask about it I think about them, and every time they tell me ‘it will pass’, and that I’ll ‘find someone new’ I just want to jump in front of a car.” Quino doesn’t say anything, he just nods while picking at his nails. Jonny rolls on his back, stares at the ceiling. “I know I’m way too old to be acting like this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You aren’t too old to feel like shit, Jonny. You loved them, and they left you. It’s completely understandable.”

He presses his lips together. He did love them. He does love them still. Stupid, so stupid.

“If you want to cry—“

“Screw off.”

“Not in front of me, heaven forbid,” Quino says with mock horror, “but you should cry sometimes. Crying is good for you, you know?”

Maybe it is, Jonny guesses, but he might have cried himself dry the night Newman broke up with him over the phone. Over the fucking phone, of fucking course. He rubs at his dry eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. “Yeah,” he mutters.

The silence stretches until Quino clears his throat. “So, do you want to know why I’m here or not?”

Jonny turns his head and then frowns at the tickets in his brother’s hand. He blinks twice, recognizing the iconic font printed on them at once. He sits up an instant later. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, I’m inviting you to see Metallica in Columbia.”

“Their last two albums suck,” Jonny says, yet he still takes the ticket from Quino’s hand.

“What doesn’t?” his twin asks with a laugh, and this time Jonny can feel himself smile.

---

One of the humans is awake. Shit. Roach thought they had at least another hour or two, now they’ll have to deal with them and their overfamiliarity and their hands and their faces.

The stub between their lips trembles and they realize it has gone out. They take it, frown at it and then flick it off. It flies in an arc, landing among its dozen of dead brothers. Roach knows at least ten of those are theirs—not that the parking lot of this dingy motel could look any worse by having more dead cigs lying about.

They look for their smokes in the denim jacket they are wearing—a gift from a trucker with a tendency to comment on people’s appearances and leave his jacket behind when going to the restroom—and almost drop the entire pack when the door at their left opens.

“Those things will kill you,” says the woman coming out of their shared motel room.

“Life is killing me,” Roach replies without missing a beat, but they don’t smile; she won’t see their face anyway, not when the sun has yet to come out, and the only lightbulb over their head suddenly burned out.

“Do you have another one?”

She comes to sit next to them on the bench and Roach doesn’t need light to see the deep crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the dark circles under them. Their conquests always look immensely better under synthetic lighting, once outside, once they’ve used one another, it’s like the spell breaks.

Roach holds two cigs between their lips and lights them with practiced ease. They offer one to their broken Juliette. It’s the least they can do; they do remember biting her hard at some point in the middle of their sexcapade… or maybe they bit one of the others, they aren’t sure anymore.

She accepts it with a thanks and takes a long drag. She sighs out the smoke, peers at Roach as if she could somehow pierce through the shadows and take a good look at them. “You are young, darling,” she croaks out. “Way too young to be doing this shit.”

“Smoking?” Roach asks innocently. Words read out from a script, tone sweet, face immobile. The face of a ghost really, one that haunts and judges them.

The woman shakes her head and then points with her thumb at the room behind them. “I bet you aren’t even thirty yet.” She tilts her head at them, eyes narrowing and still trying to see. “Whatever happened to you… you can opt out. It isn’t easy, but you can move on, you can leave your old self behind. It’s never too late…” A coughing fit interrupts her fortune cookie monologue, and Roach is super ready to skedaddle now.

They stand up, rub their hands together. “Speaking of,” they exclaim with fake enthusiasm, “I should hit the road now. It was a pleasure, really,” they add just as if they were wrapping a 5-cents bow around used pair of socks. Here, happy birthday.

Roach jogs off before she can add anything else.

“Hag,” they mutter around their cigarette. They stop as they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window of a stripped car. The face scowling at them is silently judging them for stealing it and then using it to lure in humans. “It’s poetic, ok?” Roach explains with a tense grin. “You fucked me over so this is my way to return the favor, pet.” The reflection doesn’t reply, but Roach doesn’t care. They don’t care. They never cared, actually. Who said they ever did?

---

Slow, deep breaths. Inhale, one… two… three… four. Exhale, one… two… three… four… five… six…

Horizon opens their eyes. They are crouched in front of the ceremonial pitcher. Looking down at their reflection in the water makes something like a thumb-size metal ball roll in the back of their skull. They wince in pain and lose whatever little balance they had before. Horizon doesn’t yelp when they fall back on their ass; the sudden waves of nausea coming up like lava inside a volcano could turn a bad situation into a nightmarish one at the flip of a hat.

“Ah,” they whine in a whisper, “if there truly is anything out there, up there, or around, please make it stop.” They run a hand down their face, suppress a fiery belch.

They blindly look for the pitcher and submerge their other hand in the cold water. Dominus Dove and Domina Basil would blanch in horror and anger, but right now, this is the best Horizon has felt since Velour dragged them out of bed, wrapped their robes around them, and pushed them into their office.

Running wet, cold fingers through their messy hair is the best feeling in the world, so they continue this little ritual for a while… and another while… and a little longer…

The door opens just a crack and Horizon’s gaze jumps to Velour’s so fast that the metal ball comes back with a vengeance. An arrow piercing their brain back to front.

“Ahh!”

“This isn’t happening,” Velour hisses as they slink into the room and close the door behind them. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“This isn’t happening,” Horizon mutters trying to smile through the pain. They open their eyes to find a very frowny, very serious Velour staring down at them. The smile slips off their face like a slug going down the drain. “I’m so sorry, Velour.”

“As you should,” they reply coldly, and Horizon wants to cry because there’s so much more to their tone than just scorn; they are truly disappointed and they have all the right to be.

“I’m a mess,” the words sound strained to Horizon’s ears, and they can feel new tears threatening to spill down their face again.

Velour’s jaw tightens before they crouch down shaking their head. “You are drunk,” they whisper in a mellow way. “And we can’t let anyone know that.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them you are indisposed. Wait here, and please, stop playing with the sacred water, Domini.”

Horizon can feel themself blushing in embarrassment, but they nod nonetheless and almost don’t wince when the metal ball ricochets around their skull.

Velour steps out of the room, their voice booming in the cabin, “Domini Horizon has fallen ill with a fever. Today’s prayers will be under my supervision.”

“Are they ok?” somebody asks.

“Yes, but they are very tired and would appreciate being left alone in their cabin. Any concerns or questions you have can be brought to me.”

Efficiently, they march into the office again. “Lean on me, Domini,” they instruct and Horizon does as they say. A few moments later, The Domini is back on their feet and being herded out of the office and through the cabin. They keep their head down, letting their hair cover their face.

“Poor Domini,” another person loud-whispers, “they are drenched in sweat.”

Next to them, Velour tenses up, but they don’t let their discomfort show in any other way.

Once in Horizon’s cabin, their assistant sits them on the bed and fetches them a glass of water.

“They aren’t worth any of this, Domini,” Velour says, and Horizon keeps still, lips barely touching the water. They look up at their assistant but say nothing. “That’s all I wanted to say, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

Horizon puts down the glass on their lap, both hands holding it still. They lower their gaze before softly replying, “Noted.”

Velour makes to leave. They open the door before saying over their shoulder, “And stop drinking. If I come back to find you drunk again, I swear I’m leaving. For real this time.”

Horizon nods slowly, and doesn’t look up until Velour closes the door behind them. Once they are out, the Domini puts the glass down, next to the bed, carefully lies down, and lets the ugly sobs come gushing out of them like muddy water from a broken levee.

[twistedmusings]

Arabesque and Plie

A/N: I don't know why, as I crying trying to write my paper, I thought of my old ballet classes. There is such an intimacy in dancing a pas de deux with someone, especially with lifts, and such a tenderness when you see them communicate with just their faces...so I immediately put a twst spin on it. Warnings: Malleus and Leona trying to one up each other but failing because they are too focused on moving with you as one.

Malleus Draconia and Leona Kingscholar meet outside the gates of Ramshackle, only one of them being called out to meet you...how would they react when you ask them for some help?

----

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Malleus blinks as he looks at the dorm leader of Savannaclaw, the other glaring at him as they both met near the entrance of Ramshackle. Leona huffed and looked down at the package in Malleus’s hand.

“You brought a gift?”

“...I would think it is rather impolite to arrive at a dear friend’s house without a gift.”

Leona clicks his tongue as he pushes the gate open, forcing his way inside and refusing to look back at the dorm leader following him.

You really had gone and invited the lizard and not him? Where the hell did you get off? Here he was being decent enough to hand you the homework you had missed, after Vil forced him to do it, and you had gone and invited this cold blooded iguana to your place?

“Were you invited as well, Kingscholar?”

Wouldn’t he like to know.

“Mind your damn business, lizard, I’m just here on business.”

Malleus nods as he knocks on the door, both dorm leaders looking around as they heard music coming from...somewhere. Leona’s ears twitched as the door opened, the music getting somewhat louder as Grimm opened the door with an exhausted look and shaky paws.

“UGH! FINALLY.”

He floats over to Malleus as he points back at the entrance of Ramshackle.

“Please do something about them! My paws are hurting so much and I don’t think I can keep it up for much more!”

Blue eyes turn to Leona, Grimm tilting his head and looking at Leona up and down.

“...did you get los--”

“Just show me where the herbivore is.”

Leona spits out and makes his way into Ramshackle first, not looking back at the two as he looks around. He had never been in Ramshackle dorm but from what Jack told him it was simple and compact. His eyes had already spotted three great napping spots, which he would make use of the moment he handed you these damn papers, before he stepped into the foyer.

“Letting your pet open up the door for you now? Is the title of dorm leader getting to y--”

His teeth click as Leona shuts his mouth while his ears perked up at the growing intensity of the music in the room. Although, maybe that wasn’t the only reason they were up.

Eyes immediately went to your legs. .

The leg that was standing straight like an arrow seemed to not waver as the other extended itself out, one of your arms reaching outwards while you moved the other arm back so that your hand would press against your extended leg, the position imitating a sort of hunting bow as you held the position for as long as you could--

Leona jumped when you let out a breath, immediately dropping your position and spitting out a small ‘dammit’ into the air.

His surprise lasted only a moment as the mood was amazingly ruined by the two people he forgot were there, Malleus walking up behind him as Grimm took the snack filled box into the kitchen.

“Child of man.”

You turn around.

“Oh! Malleus! There you are! I need--”

Your eyes fall on the Savannaclaw dorm leader, tilting your head as he waits for his greeting.

“...do you need something from me, Leona-senpai?”

You little--

“Hah? Am I not allowed in your dorm? Only lizard boy over here can come over?”

“What? No! I’m just...surprised. You never really leave Savannaclaw that often, at least that is what Jack says.”

Leona tosses the papers on a nearby coffee table and lays himself out on your couch.

“He doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does...tell him next time to mind his business.”

You roll your eyes before holding out your hand for Malleus to take, the other quickly taking it and following you to the middle of the room.

“Grim mentioned you performing some sort of physical task that left him exhausted.” He looks down at the way your hands fit together before smiling.

“Are you in need of magical assistance?”

“As much as I would like to take a raincheck on that, the only thing I need right is you, Tsunotarou.”

You jump as you hear Leona drop one of his shoes on the floor loudly, taking the other one off slowly and refusing to look your way.

“...me?”

The Diasmonia dorm leader squeezes your hand lightly as he feels an unlikely warmth in his chest at your words. He briefly wondered if he should speak about the sleepless night he had, his mind far too giddy about you inviting him over that he held himself back on the sun waiting to rise in favor of sleeping as much as he could so he could enjoy his day with you.

“Yes! I just need you to…”

You hum and put a finger to your chin, tapping it twice as you figured out the best way to explain what you wanted from him.

“You know, I think it would just be quicker to show you.”

You rush over to the phone Crowley had given you, tapping the screen as music started to play from the small speakers. Malleus remains rooted to his spot as you get on your tiptoes, the shoes you got from Sam yesterday greatly aiding you in keeping comfortable as you move your arms up and down while concentrating on the routine you had memorized over and over.

Lime green eyes widen as you extend yourself back, dropping down to touch the floor as your other leg goes up with your movements before reaching back as if being held by someone. He watches you hold the position for a few seconds before both of your feet drop gently as you move closer to him.

Your eyes open to reveal a sad look, both feet now on pointed toes as you reach out to him only to pull back gently and lean forward only a slight bit before moving back and going into a simple arabesque.

The music grew in intensity as two sets of eyes are on you now, watching you spin twice before you raised your arms along with the crescendo and your leg going up to try to match their height--

You hiss in pain as you drop the position immediately, Leona sitting up quickly as Malleus is at your side in an instant.

“Child of man--”

“Are you trying to stretch yourself out, herbivore?”

You sigh and stop the music, shaking one of your legs out to get rid of the cramps.

“Before coming here I used to do ballet in my free time. I thought that maybe they would have a ballet club on campus but Vargas said he has never heard of ballet before--so here I am trying to kill my boredom by dancing to one of my old routines and putting a new story to it.”

Both dorm leaders want to say something but find themselves rather lost.

Malleus recognizes this type of dance despite it being called a different name in the Valley of Thorns and Leona has only been around traditional Afterglow dances so what you just did impressed him more than he’d care to admit.

You pout.

“And I thought that I could maybe do a pas de deux by myself but--I’m not strong enough.”

Leona nods.

“So you needed someone to help you...is that it?”

“Exactly!” you grin and turn to look at Malleus,“You don’t mind right? It’s not like you have to do anything too complicated just...spin me when I tell you to and when the time comes for me to do that pose--”

You try to imitate it as best as possible.

“Just hold my leg up! All you need to do.”

Malleus had pretty much already made up his mind, nodding to your every word as you instruct him on where he should hold and for how long--

Only for him to frown as Leona grabs your wrist and pulls you away from him.

“If you needed someone to just hold you still, you could have used that raccoon over there.”

“THEY DID!”

Grim comes out of the kitchen with a plate full of snacks as he makes his way upstairs.

“My paws are shaking from trying to keep their entire leg up...I never asked for this type of exercise!”

You sigh.

“It wasn’t that bad, Grim!”

“YOU WEREN’T THE ONE ALMOST GETTING SQUASHED WHEN YOUR LEG CAME

DOWN!”

Grim goes upstairs.

“AND DON'T EXPECT TO GET ANY SNACKS.”

Leona tries to speak up but stops when Malleus puts a hand on your shoulder.

“You were only here to deliver some homework, correct?”

He tugs you back lightly.

“You should be getting back to your dorm, Kingscholar.”

The lion prince growls only to grab your wrist and pull you back.

“You don’t tell me what to do, Malleus. If I wanted to live here I would do so instantly.”

“Uh...no?”

They both turn to you, Malleus looking down with a kind smile as Leona glares at what you were going to say next.

“Shall we get started, child of man?”

“I can help you just as well as he can!”

“Sit down for now, Leona-senpai?”

Malleus can’t help the smile on his face as you lead him back to the center of the room. You had called for him after all, Kingscholar was just here because...well he didn’t know.

You start up the music again and begin the routine, Malleus smiling all the while you seem to glide effortlessly through movements that seemed far too complicated for him to put together. One moment you were crossing your legs and the other you were stretching out your leg while balancing yourself in one foot.

He readies his arm as you move on tip toes towards him, giving him a gentle smile before turning your back to him and going into an arabesque.

“Grab my waist Mal and...gently spin me around.”

The dorm leader does as he is told, meeting your eyes and chuckling when you make a face at him.

“You said there was a story to this, child of man?”

You start moving backward, one leg stretching out and remaining steady as his hand now moved to your lower back so he could support some of your weight.

“The original story is somewhat cliched...so I was thinking of making it a story about an adventurer who meets a lonely king. They don’t know they are a king because he purposefully keeps it from them--I’m going to learn forward, okay?”

His hands are on your waist as you glide down, touching the floor with your foot as your other foot goes straight up, coming back up elegantly as you explain the plot further.

“The adventurer and the king spend a lot of time together...yet the king feels like if he reveals his secret now the adventurer would run. So he keeps it hidden until an unfortunate incident--”

You hold out your hand for him as you stand on your tiptoes, Malleus taking it and giving it a gentle squeeze before watching you raise one of your legs up so that it is at the same height as his stomach.

“Yet when it is revealed he finds that the adventurer doesn’t care who he is. All they care about is the person who they care for the most...and that is the king.”

Were you trying to tease him? This story sounded far too familiar. If he were to pick a character to relate to it would certainly be the monarch. While Malleus certainly wasn’t scared to show you who he was, he just wanted the mystery to last a bit longer so you would stay at his side. If you had known he was the Malleus Draconia, would you act as light hearted as you are now? Or would you pull away and cower in fear?

The very thought made him anxious as you turned your back towards him again, your hands raising up as you got ready to go into your big arabesque position. You give Malleus a quick cue as you stretch yourself out, your leg rising up as far as it could--only to lay gently against Malleus’s hand as you let out a sigh of relief.

“...do you think the adventurer would stay with the King?”

“Huh?”

Malleus can see he caught you by surprise as he lets your leg go down slowly, setting you back into first position before you once again stand on your tiptoes and put your hand up so Malleus could spin you around twice. At this point, he was entirely focused on where your hands were going and how you were moving, picking up on each cue as he dared to look into your eyes.

“I know this is your story but if the adventurer were to leave...the King would be rather heartbroken. I am certain that he would prefer if the adventurer were to stay.”

He knows he would prefer it if you stayed. And if he ever dared to be so bold, he would prefer that you stayed by his side.

The music fades out after the last note, Malleus still holding your hand as you try to catch your breath.

Had he said too much? Did he perhaps make you uncomfortable? The story was from your imagination and he was just reading far too into it--

His eyes widen as your other hand rests on top of his, looking at you with surprise as you giggle and pull them close to your heart.

“If the King would have them...I’m sure the adventurer could find a new home with him.”

“If you want to help then...fine.”

Leona smirks as he watches you apologize to Malleus, the other visibly disappointed which already made him feel pretty great. He hadn’t even meant to stay here for too long and yet you had picked him for this little dance of yours. Suck it, lizard.

He turns to look at you, watching your eyes staring at him intently as he leads you to the center of the room.

“What is it?”

“...do you think you can lift me up?”

Oh you were being really funny, weren’t you? Of course he could lift you up. Out of all of the Magishift members and out of all the people in Savannaclaw, he was the strongest one. At this point you were just asking stupid questions.

“Try me.”

You nod as you pick a different song, starting it up as you start out in first position with your back turned to him. He watched as you bend your leg and bring it up to your thigh, slowly unbending it and lifting it up as it goes past your head. Eyebrows raised, he goes to support it but you stop him with a sound.

What? Wasn’t that what he was here for? He watches you glide into every move with great precision, turning towards him with one foot as the other is raised halfway. In his opinion, it made you look like a living doll.

He wasn’t sure why he liked that so much.

You walk back towards him slowly, your hands at your side with your palms facing outwards before you do a single turn and speak up.

“Grab me by the waist and just hold me. I’ll tell you when to spin.”

With great effort, you lift up your leg once again and stretch out while giving him the command to gently spin you. Leona nods as his hold on you changes, turning you around slowly and watching you bend down sideways.

His hold changes from one hand to one, wrapping his arm around your waist as his other hand starts to outstretch to support him better. You come back up and smile as he gives you a shit eating grin.

“Did you expect that?”

“I almost don’t want to give you the satisfaction of an answer.”

Leona takes great care to make sure that his hold on you is as light as it can be. If he was holding onto you for dear life, he was sure that your bones would immediately break. And with the way this dance was going, it seemed that you needed him to be as gentle as possible.

Already a tall order for him.

“So what’s the story of this dance?”

He takes a hold of your waist as you stretch yourself out, both hands going outwards as he brings you back in slowly.

“The original is a bit cliche but...maybe I should make it about an adventurer trying to find a lost prince--I’m going to need you to lift me up over your head.”

You glide to the right before jumping up, Leona giving you the extra boost you needed as you put one leg up and your arms stretching themselves out as they briefly rubbed against his ears.

“Maybe the adventurer hears a story of a missing prince who was never seen again after a quarrel with his country, yet the country needed the prince’s plans in order to succeed in battle. So they asked an adventurer to please seek him out.”

A prince, huh?

He gently guides you down but his hands never leave your waist as you instruct him to keep his hold a bit tight as you stretch yourself out towards the other dorm leader sitting on the couch but being greedily pulled back to Leona.

“Unbeknownst to them, the adventurer had already met the prince. They had stopped the prince’s rather tedious plans to take over some foreign land. The adventurer understood why they would want him back...but they didn’t know if he would accept.”

You tell him that you are going to move forward and that when you do he should immediately lift you up. It is surprising that he follows your every move so effortlessly, but maybe he was just that in tune with what you were doing. It’s the first time he has held someone so closely without trying to cause them physical harm. Besides, it was amazing to see you remain composed and relaxed as he lifted you up into the air only to watch you hold your pose.

“So? Did the adventurer get to the prince?”

He turns your waist clockwise fast, making you spin around in four circles before stopping you as you lean forward and raise your leg up, the movements getting a bit faster as his hands went from looking at the back of your head to your waist.

“They did...but the prince told them that he just wanted to stay where he was now. How it wouldn’t be worth it to go back home after all the shameful things he has done.”

Leona can almost feel your determination as you pull away from him. Why would you pick a prince out of all people? And one of an outcast nonetheless. Were you still trying to call him out for his past mistakes? Was that all he was to you? The dorm leader who had tried to cheat his way to victory?”

You smile and hold out your hand, Leona raising his slowly and taking your as you raise your leg up.

“But the adventurer wouldn’t leave it there. They know what the prince is capable of...all they need to do is make sure that he sees it as well.”

A quick glide downwards as he picks you right up, setting you down on two feet before you resume your position on your tiptoes.

“The adventurer tells the prince that there are plenty of things that only he can do that nobody else can. Even if the crown wasn’t his, he would still hold great power over the decisions of his kingdom. One didn’t need to wear a crown to have great power.”

You turn your back towards him and start getting ready to go into your great arabesque position--!

Only to stop when Leona stands in front of you and goes down on one knee, staring at you in the eyes while you raise your leg up and instead of fully stretching yourself back...you merely lean down and rest your hands on his shoulders.

He may be lazy but he knows symbolism when he sees one. If you were to be the adventurer and he was the prince, he imagined himself staring up at you as you spoke words of comfort to him and him alone. The bastard in the story must be pretty lucky to have someone like the adventurer believe in them…

The music fades out slowly as you go back into first position, Leona scratching the back of his head with a bored look while you pick up your phone and stop the music altogether.

“First Vil and now you, everyone is making me work today.”

Leona can’t look at you in the face, not after he pulled that cliche sort of move. One moment of weakness and he was putting himself in the shoes and feeling jealous of a character that didn't even exist! When did he get so pathetic?

He mumbles a quick goodbye and heads out, deciding that he needed to nap for the rest of the day after that embarrassing moment--

“Leona-senpai!”

The dorm leader stops in his tracks, turning around with an annoyed look only for it to melt away as you trot over to him and smile.

“Mind if I call you in case I need your help again?”

Damn you. Damn you, damn you, damn you you made him so weak--

He leans close and grins before flicking your forehead.

“If you reward me properly then...maybe.”

[high-functioning-lokipath]

SH - Sherlock x Depressed!Reader - With a Little Help from My Friends - Words: 2,793

IMPORTANT A/N - PLEASE READ: As stated in the title, this story contains discussions of depression. There is mention of suicidal thought and self-harm. I personally don't think it's too intense in it's descriptions HOWEVER!!! If this will trigger you, for your own health and safety please do not read. My messages are always open if you'd like to talk. I wrote this partially based on my own feelings so I can understand to at least a degree. You're amazing and I love you all. As far as this story goes, just remember: it has a happy, very fluffy ending but it doesn't start that way. I hope you enjoy it, feel free to leave a comment!

Brief Backstory: Reader is friends with John and Sherlock. She is a nurse who works with John. The three met shortly after Sherlock came back. Sherlock and Reader have crushes on each other but won't admit to it. I think the story explains everything else.

"Y/N, I'm going to be honest," John said, putting his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. "I may have PTSD but I cannot fully put myself in your shoes. My depression is different than yours." You had called your best friend, John Watson, in a mild panic. You had been feeling depressed for some time, as he knew, but that day had been especially bad. There was no particular reason but your depression had gotten so intense that you knew you needed help to get past this particular wave. John invited you over to 221B, assuring you that his flatmate would be out for the next couple of hours. "As a doctor, I am going to prescribe you some medication. Lowest dose possible and only because I want to help you get some immediate relief but I know you do not want them to become permanent. Let's work on finding another solution for you, ok?"

"I don't know, John," you replied. You'd asked John to be your Doctor since you didn't go to one regularly and he didn't mind your irregular checkups. "I've tried just about everything. The only outlet that seems to help is writing and even then," you trailed off, trying not to cry again. "This feeling just won't go away and I don't even know why it's there in the first place. I just want it to stop."

"I think you should talk to Sherlock."

"What?" You squeaked. "Why in the world would I talk to Sherlock?"

"I can't tell you why, Y/N. As both your Doctor and Sherlock's, I have to respect certain amounts of patient confidentiality. However, as your friend, I think you should talk to him."

"I don't know."

"Trust me," He replied. Smirking slightly, he added, "Doctor's orders."

"Ok, John," you chuckled. He smiled and hugged you. "Thanks."

"Now how about we go and fill this prescription and then maybe get some ice cream?"

"Well, honestly," you sighed. "The ice cream sounds great but I didn't sleep well last night. I was actually wondering if I could just take a nap here for a bit. I sleep better here sometimes." You blushed but John nodded understandingly.

"Of course," He replied. "I'll run down to the drugstore and fill this for you. Meanwhile you get some rest. I'll let Sherlock know you're here just in case he ends up getting back before I do. Will you be ok by yourself?"

"Yeah," You smiled. "This is a safe space for me. I'll go grab a blanket. Thanks again."

"Don't mention it. Just remember, talk to him."

"I'll try."

About 15 minutes later, Sherlock arrived back at the flat. He'd gotten John's texts.

John: If you get home in the next 45 minutes, be quiet. Y/N is over and she's taking a nap. I have to run out for something.

Sherlock: Is everything ok? - SH

John: She said she had a bad night.

Sherlock: She must have had a reason to come over in the first place though. - SH

John: She's going to need to tell you that herself. Don't ask. Do you understand me? Let her tell you. Be nice, ok?

Sherlock: When am I not nice to Y/N? - SH

John: Ok, that is true. You like her too much to be rude to her. If you could just hold back your deductions for one second I will say this: you two have more in common than you think.

He hurried home, not to wake you up of course, but because he wanted to see you. If there was something seriously wrong, he wanted to try and brace himself for it first. He couldn't help the smile playing at the corner of his lips when he thought of you. You two were good friends, that much was obvious to everyone. But Sherlock could see the potential for something more. He liked you a lot. You were just as smart, sassy, and sarcastic as he was. But you also could be extremely kind and caring to others and especially to him. He still didn't quite understand why you cared for him so but he was grateful. Before he could dwell on that too much longer, he arrived at 221B.

He quietly slipped inside and smiled at what he saw. You were curled up on the couch, sleeping like a baby. Apparently, though, you'd kicked off the blanket you had grabbed. Instead of picking up the blanket, he decided to take off his long coat and carefully lay that over you. You quickly cuddled into the warm fabric, unconsciously taking a deep breath, inhaling his unique signature left behind on the coat. Satisfied with what he'd done, he took off his suit jacket and went to the kitchen to prepare some tea for when you woke up. He knew you had a favorite tea and, unless John moved it or drank it all, there still would be some in the cupboard.

You woke to the smell of your favorite tea and a hushed exclamation from the kitchen. Opening your eyes slowly you saw Sherlock in at the counter trying to set up a tray with the teapot and cups. Recognizing your surroundings a bit more, you realized what was on top of you. Sherlock was just about to bring out the tray but you decided to pretend you were still asleep. The chances of fooling the Detective were low, but you wanted to try.

"There," He whispered to himself, setting the tray on the coffee table. You could hear him settling down on his chair, likely getting into his 'palace pose' as you called it. For a moment you were happy. You had actually gotten some quality sleep, you were currently cuddled up in Sherlock's famous coat and Sherlock had even made you tea. But that feeling quickly faded. Tears threatened to spill out of your still closed eyes as self-deprecating thoughts filled your mind.

'John probably told him to make me tea. He probably covered me with his coat so I wasn't as much of a distraction. He doesn't want me here. He never does. Why does he even tolerate my presence? He probably wishes we'd never met,' You thought. Your mind was going a million miles an hour and gaining. Without your notice, the tears began rolling down your cheeks and quiet sobs escaped your lips.

"Y/N?" Sherlock whispered. You're eyes shot open. You hadn't heard him get up. Now he was kneeling right next to you, one hand hovering over your arm. "Are you ok?"

"Oh, Sherlock!" You cried. "I-I wish I knew."

"C'mere," he said, motioning for you to sit up. Once you did so, he pulled you into a tight hug.

"What's this for?"

"You always give me and John a hug when you see us. You haven't done so for the past 5 days. I-" he paused briefly before lowering his voice and continuing. "I missed it."

"Oh." You weren't quite sure how to reply to that. You leaned into his embrace, letting yourself get lost in the moment.

"Y/N? Is there something I can do to help?"

"How much did John tell you?" You asked. You wouldn't have been mad exactly if John had told Sherlock to talk to you, but you wanted to think Sherlock was reaching out on his own.

"He told me you had a bad night."

"That's all?" You asked, surprised. You pulled away slightly and stared into his eyes. Sherlock nodded, frowning slightly as he tried to deduce you.

"Why are you afraid to talk to me?" You turned away, embarrassed and unsure what to say. "Be honest."

"I don't want you to make fun of me. I have-" You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves and preparing to just jump right in. "I have been extremely depressed lately and I didn't want to hear another speech about how all I need to do is exercise and eat right and stop thinking about sad things. Well you know what? I can't stop it! I can't help it if I feel like a useless pile of trash that should be thrown in the bin and burned." By the time you finished your little tirade, you'd gotten up and started pacing the floor. Then you turned and faced Sherlock. His expression was neutral but there was an obvious sadness in his eyes, one you didn't expect to see. It wasn't of pity. If you had seen that you also would have given up on the conversation. No, it was almost an understanding, an empathy. His eyes were actually glistening with tears.

"Have you ever felt like," he paused, voice unsteady. "Like giving up?" He whispered, unable to hold eye contact. You nodded silently. He got up slowly and walked towards you. At first, you thought he would hug you again but then he started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Uh, Sherlock?"

"Just wait a moment. I want to show you something." He carefully shrugged off the purple shirt that you, admittedly, loved so much and tossed it on the chair. "Only one person knows about this. You will be the second. You remember I told you about Moriarty's network?"

"Yes, the day we met. I asked you about your work, a simple question. And I got an answer that lasted 3 hours." Sherlock chuckled dryly.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Oh, no. Please don't apologise. I-" You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "I tend to make jokes when I'm nervous."

"I know." He smiled at you with, yet again, a completely unreadable expression. "You remember though." You nodded, opting to stay silent as he explained. "Well, those 2 years dismantling his network weren't easy. Not physically and certainly not emotionally. As a result of the different missions, I received many wounds on my body in various locations. I was," He paused, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "I was depressed, guilt-stricken and suicidal. I figured I had hurt my friends enough. If they thought I was dead maybe I should just go on with it."

"What changed your mind?"

"I didn't want to do it on a mission. I wanted to see home again one more time. So to temporarily relieve the pain I," He sighed. Well, I wouldn't let my wounds heal. I'd pick at them. Mycroft finally convinced me to come back officially because he needed my help. I never told him about this. I think he knows but we don't discuss it." He looked down, obviously embarrassed and feeling more emotionally naked than physically. "You can look," he said. It was as if he'd read your mind. You were trying to be respectful and not stare but you realized that's what he wanted to show you. You had, on occasion, seen him shirtless before but you had never realized how bad some of the scars were.

"Sherlock, I-I don't know what to say. I-" You were completely shocked. Not offended. But actually comforted that he understood you. "Thank you," You finally said.

"Actually I wanted to thank you. I didn't just show you this to prove that I understand your feelings." You looked at him confused. "The day we met. You were leaving work, correct?" You nodded.

"It had been my first day there. John had been happy with my work and requested that I stay assigned to his office permanently. John had already finished up and headed home but there was some paperwork I had to finish so I was leaving about an hour late. Come to think of it, John said he had plans with you that evening. Why were you there?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you. I met you less than a month after I came back. I had still been quite depressed so I was still picking at my injuries. That day had been a bad day for me. So I cancelled my plans with John and I decided to go back to where I started this whole mess and finish it."

"Wait, are you telling me that-"

"You saved my life." Sherlock took one of your hands in his own and held it tightly. "I had memorized the work schedules of most everyone there and knew how to slip in unnoticed."

"But you didn't factor in me."

"Correct. When I ran into you, quite literally in fact, as I was entering the building, I was surprised. Not just by your presence but by what I deduced about you. You intrigued me. I had to find out more about you so I invited you to have a cup of coffee with me."

"Which turned into dinner." Sherlock nodded. "And since you were so intrigued by me, you forgot all about that."

"In a manner of speaking. You weren't a cure-all, mind you. You helped, though, by giving me a new mystery to investigate: you. That night, when I got home, I told John everything. He helped me too and when I mentioned you he couldn't stop singing your praises. He is very proud of you and your work you know."

"Yeah, I guess so," You replied, a little embarrassed. "Thank you, Sherlock. I'm sorry that you went through all that, but, I'm glad I have someone who understands. And I'm glad you're here to help me."

"Me too, Y/N. Me too," He replied.

"Can I, um, can I have another hug?" You asked, blushing and smiling. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"If you must," He sighed, holding his arms out. Any other day, you would have thought he genuinely didn't want personal contact. But today you realized he was simply teasing. You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned your head on his chest. You felt him relax as he leaned forward a little to cocoon you in his arms. "I care about you, Y/N. I don't care about many people but you mean so much to me. I-" You looked up at him and pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.

"You don't have to say it, Sherlock. I know." He smiled and looked somewhat relieved. You knew he wasn't good with feelings and that was fine with you. "I love you too."

"I wanted to be the first one to say that," He pouted. You chuckled softly and booped his nose.

"You already have." He smiled and kissed your forehead lightly.

"I know this won't fix everything right away. I know you'll still have bad days. But I wanted you to know you could come to me too."

"I know. Thank you again, Sherlock." At that moment, John walked in with a bag from the store.

"Oh, hello!" He chirped, happy to see you hadn't gotten into a yelling match. Then he noticed Sherlock's shirt, or rather, lack thereof. "So, uh," He stuttered, unsure of what to say. "What should I do with this?"

"First of all, thank you, John, for giving me the guts to talk to him about this. And second, I think I'll give it a try. You know, to try and prevent a really bad day when you guys aren't available or if talking still isn't enough. But for today I think I'll be alright," You said, turning to John with a smile.

"Well, I'm glad. So did you just talk about that or did he finally tell you that he's had the biggest schoolboy crush on you from the moment he met you?"

"John!" Sherlock yelled. You laughed loudly.

"Not in those words exactly, John," You replied. "Don't worry," You added, turning to Sherlock and ruffling his curls. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Good. Now if you don't mind, I need your input on this case."

"Me?" You asked, quite surprised.

"Yes," He said as if it was obvious. "You're a woman after all!"

"And that is important because?"

"The killer was a woman obviously but I can't understand why she would do it!" The two of you went off into your own little world, completely ignoring John as he cooked dinner.

John: Ok, mates, get your tuxs out. Won't be long now.

Greg: He finally proposed? 😀

John: Not yet, give it a week.

Mycroft: John, you forget I monitor his spending habits.

John: And?

Mycroft: He's had a ring purchased for some time now.

Greg: 3 days tops.💍

Mycroft: I would estimate about 3 days as well, Detective Inspector.

Greg: We're in a Group Text. Talking about our friend like a bunch of teenage girls at a slumber party. I think you can call me Greg.

Mycroft: If I must.

John: So, girls, will you help me make the plans?

Mycroft: Of course. He is blood after all.

Greg: Count me in! Wouldn't miss it! 🕵️👰

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

@gaitwae

@for-hearthand-home

[cevans16]

I Could Not Live Without You

Summary: Bucky almost loses you on a mission

Sorry this is a long one! Lots of fluffiness though :)

You and Thor were sitting in the back of the conference room horsing around with a thumb war. 

“You’re such a cheater” you discreetly yelled at him. 

“You are mad that I am winning little one” he teased you

“Little one?! Should I demonstrate that I am a strong demigod just as you!” you yelled a bit louder

“Thor, (Y/N)! Keep it down!” Steve yelled over to you two. You received dirty looks from the rest of the crew until you finally calmed down only for you and Thor to start messing around again.

“(Y/N) if you don’t listen so help me-” Tony was the one to yell at you this time. You looked up at him to be met by a stern expression from the genius man. Tony and Thor were your best friends so getting a certain look from either one of them would calm you down

“Sorry Tony” you whispered back to him. 

“As we were saying - for this mission it will be Thor, Sam, (Y/N) and Bucky” Tony listed the names causing you to groan at the last one

“Is there a problem?” Tony asked

“Yes, HIM” you replied motioning to Bucky. Since you two met, Bucky was never nice to you, he either ignored you or always had to critic something about you.

“Well, Wanda and Vision are on their honeymoon so I see this as a team bonding exercise since you two can’t seem to get along” Tony peered at you. 

“I get along with everyone else, he seems to have a problem with me” you replied. 

“Come on doll, it’s one mission, if I can tolerate you everyday, I’m sure you can tolerate me for a few” he said winking at you causing you to roll your eyes back.

“Whatever are we done here” you said getting up from your seat to start packing. 

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

You were settling yourself inside the quinjet, you and Thor were the demigods so you were practically there as an extra asset for Sam and Bucky. 

“Want some cashews?” Bucky offered you, you rolled your eyes at him again.

“No thanks” you said walking away from him to sit next to Thor.

“You know both and I don’t know much about Midgard however I think he likes you” Thor said winking at you

“Please don’t” you quickly replied to his comment

“Ohhh but I know you DO like him, Stark said so himself” at that you scoffed.

“What! No! Damn you Tony, what did he say?” you asked Thor narrowing your eyes at him.

“I overheard you and Stark speaking about him” he said motioning over to Bucky. You remembered that day perfectly.

“I think you have a thing for him, don’t you (Y/N)?” Tony picked on you

“NO! He’s rude, a know-it-all and gosh that stupid long hair needs to be chopped off” you quickly replied defensively while fixing a nanotech knife you had built with Tony.

You turned around to look at Tony who was raising one of his eyebrows at you with a smirk slapped on his face.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing” he chuckled

“I think Manchurian Candidate has a crush on you too but I could be wrong---actually I am never wrong” he continued.

“What do you mean?” you asked curiously

“Well for starters, its like in elementary school, boy likes girl but wants to seem cool so he picks on the said girl which in this case is you” he said poking you with one of his tools

“You don’t see it but he always looks over at you when you are not looking, asks where you are when you are not around, that sort of stuff” Tony explained.

“I mean maybe you two should give it a shot” he shrugged

“Not in a million years Tony” you said walking out of the lab, only to bump into Bucky himself

“He’s never been nice to me so why should I do the same” you told Thor. 

Thor didn’t say anything, you and him leaned back against the wall to take a quick nap before arriving to your destination.

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

“Hey....we’re two minutes out so suit up” Sam said shaking you out of your sleep gently

“Thank you Sam” you said getting up from your seat to grab your equipment

You grabbed two small pistols placing them on each thigh holster, your earpiece from Sam, you placed your sword behind your back and picked up a rifle to head on out.

“Are you sure you can handle that?” Bucky teased you

“I can handle more than that Barnes” you sternly replied

“That she can Bucky, don’t forget she’s a demigod” Sam said, “I do have to ask though, where did you learn to shoot because I’m sure there aren’t guns on your world” he asked 

“Well I train profusely with Nat so I think I’m pretty set in having the best teacher you can get” you explained, Sam nodded walking out the quinjet to lead the way.

“Okay, on my lead, Buck and (Y/N) you go left, Thor and I will head to the right on my signal.....go” Sam led away

“You have my six right?” Bucky asked you

“No shit, you’re part of the team” you replied, the genuine comment surprising Bucky

“Plus I don’t want to deal with Steve’s reaction if you were to be gone forever” you added

Well that was too good to be true Bucky thought to himself. 

You were both deep inside the building where there was Sokovian evidence about new mutants

You were beside Bucky when you heard a loud gunshot, immediately reacting quicker than Bucky due to your demigod senses, you pushed Bucky out of the way causing you both to fall down to the first level, you felt your left arm break. A bullet had hit you on your left rib, without hesitation you shot back to where the bullet had come from, you had great aim killing the suspect instantly.

You felt pain, worse than what a normal gun shot would feel like. When you took out the bullet to saw that it was Sokovian made, this bullet was different you thought to yourself, this wasn’t going to kill you but you knew it could’ve killed a human being. You felt yourself drifting away into a deep slumber, you could hear Bucky yelling for you.

He got up slowly from the nasty fall, made sure the coast was clear, he then knelt down next to you placing you onto his lap.

“No no, (Y/N) WAKE UP! WAKE UP!” he yelled over at you repeatedly.

You looked up at him giving him a soft smile, “Give this.... to... Wanda, she’ll know” you tried your best to speak and then it all went pitch black.

“Bucky! (Y/N)! You guys okay?” Sam yelled over the earpiece

“I’m okay.....(Y/N) has been hit, she’s...down” Bucky said in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the girl he was in love with was dead and he never got the chance to tell you how he felt about you.

He picked you up cautiously, walking back to the quinjet sadly.

Thor was the first one to look at you, he looked over your wound, opening your vest open. “She’s not dead but we need to take her back quickly” he said to Sam and Bucky

Sam nodded heading to the pilot chair to fly you all back home.

Bucky tried not to cry but his tears betrayed him

“She pushed me out of the way” he sniffed

Thor placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder to calm him down, “She would have done it for anyone, it’s not your fault” he said sitting down next to him

“I never told her how I felt about her” Bucky whispered

Thor smiled at the sound of him saying that, “I knew it” he teased Bucky

“I’m sure everyone did except her, I was an idiot in not showing it in the correct way” he explained

“She’s not dead Bucky” Thor said.

“How do you know?” he asked

“Well for one, I can hear her heartbeat, it’s very faint. And I’d know if I have lost a best friend” Thor explained. 

The rest of the flight back home was quiet.

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

“Let me see her!” Tony yelled running over to you.

“She’s not dead Stark but we need to check on her wounds, it’s the one on her left rib and she has a broken left arm” Thor explained

“I called Dr. Cho, she should be here soon” Tony nodded at Thor

Tony looked at you, you looked peacefully asleep, he had felt his heart drop when he heard about you. He couldn’t lose his best friend. He wiped away a tear before pushing you over to the emergency room. Bucky followed quickly behind.

“Barnes you can’t be here” Tony said to him

“I’m not leaving her Stark” he replied firmly. Tony looked over at him, eyeing him up and down, he knew it, he knew Bucky liked you. He would save the teasing for another time though, first he had to save his best friend. 

“She also said to give this to Wanda, that she would know” Bucky said handing over the bullet you had placed in his hands.

Tony looked over at the delicate item, how did something so small take down a demigod like you.

“I’ll call Wanda once (Y/N) is out of the emergency room” Tony confirmed.

After what felt like forever, Dr. Helen Cho finally arrived, she looked over at you, replicating your own cells to heal the wound on your rib, it wouldn’t look the same but it was enough to stabilize you. Once she was done with surgery, they wheeled you to the recovery room.

“She looks like she’s asleep peacefully” Nat sniffed looking at you. 

“Yeah she does, how did it go wrong?” Steve asked

“She took the bullet for Barnes” Nat said, this surprised Steve, he in fact thought that you hated Bucky but he was very appreciative that you would protect his own best friend as if he were yours.

“Don’t look so surprised Steve, she would do this for anyone of us. Besides she has a soft spot for Barnes” Nat smirked

“That I have heard” Steve chuckled. 

“Will you two shut up, I feel bad enough as it it” Bucky interjected

They stood there a little bit longer, Nat and Steve headed out, Nat stopped by Bucky, “You should get cleaned up Barnes, it’ll take a while”

“I’m not leaving until Wanda gets here” he replied, with that Nat left Bucky alone with you. 

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

Wanda and Vis had to cut their honeymoon short

“I’m sorry Wanda but (Y/N) told Bucky about the bullet that hit her, Banner and I have been trying to figure it out but-- I wouldn’t ask you to come back if it wasn’t serious...this is my best friend” Tony choked out at the end. 

“Tony....don’t worry, Vis and I understand, we are heading back , I have a clue on what that bullet could be” she replied calming Tony down over the phone.

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

Nat and Maria were visiting you again, Maria hadn’t seen you until now. 

“She looks like a sleeping beauty doesn’t she” Nat said, “even with all the debris....maybe we should clean her up, I know she would flip if she saw how dirty she was” Nat laughed at the thought of you

“You’re right, hey Barnes, you have to walk out” Maria ordered him 

“I’m not lea-”

“You have to leave, wait outside for Gods sake, take a shower, she is in good hands and she needs privacy while we clean her up” Nat said

“Fine” Bucky got up from the chair next to you, giving the girls a stinky eye. He quickly went to his room to shower. Although he wouldn’t admit it, the girls were right, he definitely needed a shower. 

Once he was done he went over back to the room they had you in, Nat and Maria were quick to clean you up. Your hair was brushed back, it smelled like subtle lavender, your face was clean and makeup free however your long eyelashes still stood out to him, your clothes were changed. Nat was right, you looked like a sleeping beauty, it hurt his heart though to see you this way. 

Bucky sat down next to you again, Nat handed him a tray with food.

“I know you haven’t ate so here” she said before walking out the door.

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

Throughout the next few days, everyone else came in to check on you while they weren’t on missions. Thor and Tony checked on you the most, Bucky never left your side unless it was to shower. He felt a sigh of relief when he saw Wanda come inside the room.

“How is she?” Wanda asked looking over at you

“She’s been the same since” Bucky replied

“You look tired Bucky” she said to him, he replied with a faint smile. 

“So what is it?” Tony asked her as he came inside the room followed by Thor.

“The bullet can kill any one of you except-” Wanda was going to explain

“Except demigods and mutants, they use these to knock them out however it sends you into a deep sleep, not a peaceful one though” Banner interjected, he was now followed by Steve, Nat and Clint who had been on leave with his family

“He’s correct” Wanda smiled at him, “Pietro and I never got hit by one of these thankfully”

“So if it’s not a peaceful sleep, why does she look like it is?” Clint asked, “Sorry, I got here as soon as I could”.

“Well it’s more of a battle within, whatever your worst fears are, your past that haunts you, it’s all alive in your sleep” Wanda said

“Oh god” Tony said, he knew what your past was, a traumatic one, you were reliving it and there was nothing they could do about it

“So how do we bring her back?” Bucky asked

“It’s not a how can we its when will she” Wanda said sadly, “I think I may be able to get into her head though, give her some kind of signal” she added

“Sure, it’s not like you haven’t done it before” Nat teased her

“Can you?” Steve asked, Wanda nodded closing her eyes as she placed her hand on your head gently. 

Wanda saw your worst fears; losing Tony, Thor, losing anyone on the team. She saw your past; your dead family, dead friends, everything. She backed out of your head immediately, trying to suppress a cry.

“Honey, it’s okay” Vision soothed her

“She’s going through hell....I have to bring her back” she said, walking over to you again. 

This time she was able to contact you, “(Y/N) you have to wake up, this isn’t real” she explained to you in your dream. 

“I can’t yet Wanda I have to finish this mission” you replied

“There is no mission, you’re in a dream”

“NO.....Tony is gone and I couldn’t save him” you cried out

“It’s a dream....come back to us” Wanda pleaded

“I will Wanda, when I am done here, I will” you said

Wanda was brought back to reality. 

“She’s not ready yet” she said walking out of the room, “she will wake when she is”.

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

It had been over a month since you were out, everyday the team had a routine to check on you, Bucky never left. 

He was observing you, your eyelashes, he was deep into your face that he didn’t realize you had opened your eyes. 

“(Y/N)?!” he yelped

You looked back at him, fluttering your eyes slowly, sensitive to the light. Then you sat up fast looking over to Bucky, your face in panic.

“Where’s Tony?!” you yelled

“He’s with Pepper” Bucky stammered still recovering from you being suddenly awake

“Don’t bullshit me Barnes, is he alive?!” you said

“Yes! Why would I lie about that, I’ll call him” he said quickly getting his phone out to dial Tony

“She’s awake” was all he said before hanging up

He leaned closer to you, squeezing your hand, “Honey” he said to you

You scoffed at the nickname, “Who are you and what have you done to James Buchanan Barnes?” you asked curiously

Bucky laughed, he slipped at the nickname, “I’m sorry (Y/N)”

After five minutes Tony came into the room, you looked up at him, feeling your breathing come back to normal to see that Bucky wasn’t lying to you.

“Tony” you choked out pulling him in for a tight hug. You felt your tears fall down your face, you were happy to be back after the nightmares you were dreaming of. 

“I dreamt you were gone and there was nothing I could do and it was so awful” you sobbed into his shoulder. Tony soothed you, rubbing your back softly.

“There there, look you are snotting all over my shirt so obviously I am not dead” he joked causing you to laugh. Bucky had missed that laugh more than anything.

“It was so horrible” you said looking back to him

“I know, Wanda explained to us” he replied, “I’m glad to have you back” he said pulling you in for a hug this time

“You know I mainly missed you wanting to kill this one all the time” he said motioning over to Bucky, “Thor and I were here a lot but this one never left your side” he said giving you a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll let the team know you’re awake, Morgan has been dying to see you but we chose it was best for her not to see you in this state, calm down, I’m in one piece” he said heading out. 

You were still crying, so many emotions were all over the place. 

“I’m sorry about this” Bucky said

“What? No this isn’t your fault Bucky” you said

Bucky’s breath hitched at you calling him Bucky, you had never called him that.

“I would do it again if I had to” you added, giving him a small smile.

“She’s BACK!” Thor came in yelling with a bouquet of flowers, “I missed you so much, we have so much to catch up on!”

“How long have I been out for?” you asked afraid to know the answer

“Over a month” Thor said

Each Avenger came in to greet you back to reality. Every single one giving you the strongest hug you had ever received from any of them. Somehow they also each seemed to mention that Bucky had always been there beside you, that was odd to you but you thought back to what Tony and Thor had said, it couldn’t be though. 

“Auntie (Y/N)!!!” Morgan yelled throwing herself onto you, Pepper and Tony were quick to scold her

“It’s okay.....I’m okay guys, I missed you baby Stark” you chuckled at her excitement giving her a kiss on her head, “are you ready for our monthly date, rumor is we are backed up on two now” you said, Morgan nodded as her smile grew bigger. 

Bucky loved how you were always extra gentle with Morgan, he loved seeing you with kids, you were like a magnet to them. 

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

The nightmares came every other night, even though you were out for a month you didn’t feel rested.

You showed up late to your first meeting, apologizing profusely for doing so, everyone was extremely understanding since the word had spread that you were still recovering. 

You were dazing in and out of the briefing, looking over at Thor to your right who would always give you a smile. After the meeting was finally over you asked him, ��Hey so baby Stark and I are going to our usual, want to come?” you asked

“I would love to but Jane and I have plans” he said, “but I can cancel them”

“No no don’t do that....you and Jane are back! That’s amazing Thor” you genuinely said, you knew how in love he had been with her. 

“(Y/N) can I talk to you?” you heard Steve call you 

You nodded at him, “Tell me everything once I’m done” you said to Thor.

“Hey Steve, I’m sorry again about being late I’m-”

“Don’t worry I’m not here to scold you, actually I want to thank you for saving Bucky’s life. That could’ve killed him” he said sadly at the end.

You pulled Steve in for a hug, “I would do it again if I had to Rogers, I would like to think that someone would save my best friend too” you said. 

“I gotta go, baby Stark is waiting for me” you smiled

“Usual hangout for you two?” he asked smiling

“Yep, I’ve been away for too long” you walked away to get ready with Morgan

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

You were saying goodbye to Tony and Pepper while you and Morgan headed out the compound. You bumped into Bucky, to be honest you noticed he was around more but you never thanked him for being by your side.

“Where are you ladies off to?” Bucky asked with a smile

“We’re going to the aquawium and ice cweam Mr. Barnes” Morgan answered, “would you wike to come with us?” she asked 

“I’m sure he has other things to do Morgan” you said politely

Bucky looked over at you and Morgan, then back to Tony and Pepper.

“I’m okay with it” Tony said loud enough for you to hear

You laughed at his comment, “Well Mr. Stark said it was okay...really Bucky you don’t have to” you added

“Actually it would be my pleasure” he replied

“YAY! Auntie (Y/N) and I always have fun” Morgan said

Now the three of you walked towards the car garage, you normally took Pepper’s car since Morgan’s car seat was in it. You buckled her in and were about to get into the drivers side when Bucky stopped you.

“I’ll drive” he said

“I can drive Bucky, I’m not hurt” you replied

“(Y/N), you have a cast on your left arm” he asked pointing at it. To be fair you had indeed forgotten about your broken arm.

“Fineeee Barnes here” you playfully threw the keys at him.

He opened the passenger door for you to get inside the car, as he walked over to the driver’s side Morgan spoke.

“I think he wikes you” she giggled

“Morgan not you too” you laughed

Thankfully she didn’t say anything else once Bucky got inside the car. “So uhmm I don’t even know where we are going” he said a little embarrassed,

“Bless you, well first we’re going to the aquarium and then Dairy Queen” you said

“Off we go” Bucky said putting the car in drive heading towards the aquarium.

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

The ride to the aquarium was quiet besides Morgan talking away, she was very much like Tony in that sense, Bucky caught onto that. 

“I thought we left Stark back home” he half-heartedly joked

You laughed at that, looking over to him, “We did but we have his mini version back there”

Bucky looked back at you, he looked at you differently, this was the first time either of you had hung out without anyone else on the team being around. Morgan seemed to be enjoying both of your company.

The trip around the aquarium was always fun when it was you and Morgan, having Bucky around only added onto it. He would hold Morgan up to see the fishes closer, you would hold her hand to touch the starfishes, you all walked around like a normal little family.

You were going to take a selfie with Morgan when Bucky offered to take it instead.

“Here stand in front of this glass wall” he advised, Morgan and you complied, you knelt down by her side smiling for the picture.

“I can take a picture for you guys, stand right next to your girls, young man” an older lady said to Bucky. Bucky blushed at the lady, not knowing how to tell her that you guys weren’t together. So he handed her the phone and walked over to you and Morgan, you were trying your best to not laugh.

“You have beautiful women here” she added

“Thank you mam” you replied once she took several pictures of you all.

You took the phone looking at the pictures; you, Morgan and Bucky did in fact look like a cute little family. 

After the aquarium you guys headed off to Dairy Queen, Bucky was going to the local one but you let him know that you and Morgan went to a specific one that overlooked the city.

You all ordered your personal favorite ice creams then walked over to a bench that was on the dock. You sat Morgan between you and Bucky, all three of you quietly overlooking the beautiful skyline sunset. 

“I had fun today, you should come more often Mr. Barnes” Morgan said

“Thank you, I had fun too, call me Bucky” he said to her.

Once you all were done you headed back to the car, Morgan asked you this time if you can sit in the back with her, you agreed to do so, you often did when you were with Tony and Pepper, she called you her car buddy. Somehow you and Morgan dozed off on the way back to the compound. You were awaken gently by Bucky.

“Hey, we’re home” he said softly

You rubbed your eyes, yawning again, smiling at Bucky.

“Sorry I don’t know what happened” you said unbuckling your seatbelt. You got out from the car to carry a sleeping Morgan out to her room. 

“Here I got her, you can lock the car” Bucky said as he placed Morgan into his arms.

You guys walked up to the compound, first to drop off Morgan with Tony and Pepper.

“She’s knocked out, yay” Tony joked as he grabbed his daughter from Bucky. 

“The pictures of you three were so sweet and cute” Pepper said, she pulled you over discreetly, “You two would make a cute couple” causing you to blush.

You all said your goodnights, Bucky walked you over to your own room which was a floor below.

“Thank you for this day, that was a lot of fun” he said to you

“Nahhh its all Morgan, she gets it from Tony” you teased

Bucky stopped you in the middle of the hallway, “Look I’m sorry about always being a dick to you. I thought that by doing so my feelings for you would fade away and they sure didn't’” he laughed nervously, “I can’t thank you enough for saving my life, I will forever be in debt to you. After almost losing you, it scared the fuck out of me” he said trying not to cry, “I realized that I could not live without you so I have to ask, will you forgive me for being a jerk and will you go on a date with me? It’s okay Morgan can come along” he joked causing you to laugh.

“Ehhh I wasn’t too nice to you either, you don’t owe me anything Bucky...like I said I would do it again if I had to. As much as I hate Tony and Thor being right, I like you too Bucky. I want to thank you for being by my side even though I wasn’t there to see it, it helped knowing someone else was there for me too. Yes I will like to go on a date with you” you said smiling back to him.

Bucky knew in that moment that his life would get better with you in it, he couldn’t wait to see what the future held for both of you.

[outofsstyles]

a/n: This is by far THE MOST requested fic I’ve ever had and (a year later) it’s finally here!! First of all, sorry that it took me so long but when I first wrote Wildest Dreams I never intended on it having a follow up, but the amount of love I got from it was so overwhelming that I decided to put this together for you all :) I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit nervous about it, considering the amount of requests I’ve had the past year, I know there’s gonna be a lot of expectations and I wanted to do something a bit different so it’s not too predictable lol. So yeah, as always, feedback is very much welcomed!! If you enjoy please reblog it to support my writing, it would mean the world to me <3

word count: 13.7k

warnings: none!

concept: It’s Evan’s birthday and he decides to do something a bit different.

Wildest Dreams: read part 1 here :)

                                               ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

In the last two steps, you have to use your leg to support the box as it starts to slowly slip down your fingers. This serves as a reminder to start exercising again now that the midterm is over — meaning that you should finally give in to Nia’s pleas to join her in the free week of Pilates classes she got when signing in at the gym, “Exercising is one of the best ways to relieve stress!” She would argue, to which you’d simply reply with something along the lines of: “So does binging another trashy reality tv show!”

Thankfully, no one seems to notice your struggle, sparing you the embarrassment of listening to their teases due to your difficulty in carrying one of the smallest boxes of the bunch. Nate barely glances at you once you finally reach the car to hand him the box, only shooting the longest smile you’ve ever seen coming from him—which somehow still manages to be probably the quickest when compared to any other regular person. His girlfriend, who stands with hands on her hips, entirely held his attention. Nia’s purple strands of hair poke out of her half-bun in every direction and her bottom lip has found its permanent spot between her teeth as her eyes fixate on the vehicle in front of her, barely blinking.

“Everything alright, Ni?” You prompt, trying to even your breathing. “Forgot something? There’s still time to check.”

“It’s not that.” She mumbles, shaking her head to break out of her thoughts. “My keyboard doesn’t fit.” Nia nods at the instrument lying on top of the car’s ceiling.

“Oh,” You say, frowning your lips as you take in her stressed figure. Clearing your throat, you attempt to blurt out a joke, “Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t move it and stay right here in our little flat with creaky doors.”

She breathes out a sharp laugh, finally looking at you as she drops her arms. “Don’t start.” She warns, “You promised; no crying today.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good at holding back the tears.” You give her a soft smile, pulling her smaller frame into a hug. The sudden reality of your best friend and roommate leaving you hitting you at once. “Gonna miss you, Ni.”

You feel her sigh into your shoulder, arms circling around your middle. “I’ll be ten minutes away.”

“Not the same.”

“I know.”

The two of you sway in silence for a moment, and you watch from over her shoulder as Nate attempts to awkwardly pick up the keyboard, almost dropping it on the sidewalk in the process. He grunts, the instrument tilting in his arms, and you giggle as you hear Nia sigh once more. Tightening your arms around her, you release each other as she turns to check on her boyfriend who holds the instrument as you would a newborn — except this one is half his size and hard as a wood plank.

He glances between the both of you, helpless. “Uh, where does this go?”

“You can put it with the other big boxes upstairs, babe. We’ll take them Sunday.” Nia says, moving to close the trunk. She looks back at him, calling back in a sing-like voice before he disappears inside, “Thank you!”

You lean back against the car, a playful pout plumping your bottom lip. “Am I only seeing you again on Sunday, then?”

“Nope, I’ll pick you up for Evan’s birthday — did you forget about it already?”

You have. “Of course not. It’s on — tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow?” Nia gasps, eyes widening. “Holy shit, tomorrow’s Friday.”

You nod slowly, just as shocked as she is about how quickly the past couple of weeks have flown by. Between piles of book reports and stress-tear-stained essays during midterms week, you also had to find some time to help Nia with packing boxes while searching for a new roommate for yourself. If you managed a five-hour sleep on these past days, that would have been a well-rested night. So you can’t really blame yourself for forgetting about Evan’s birthday when Nia herself had it slipping through her mind.

“This is an emergency,” Nia says, eyes focusing on a point beyond you and, you feel like, if you listen close enough, you can hear the engines inside her head working. “I’ll have come here earlier so you can help me with my outfit.”

You chuckle. “What even is the theme this year?”

“He didn’t tell me,” Nia says in a huff. “But, on the bright side, I don’t think this year he’ll do anything too crazy — he was too busy these last couple months with that short film I told you about, remember?”

“Evan doing something low key? That’s a first.” You raise your eyebrows, skeptical.

“I mean, I don’t know. I’m just guessing.” Nia shrugs, picking at her nails. “I’m only saying because he mentioned once he was only inviting, like, twenty people.”

Now, this is a surprise. “I’m glad I made the cut, then.”

It’s not a secret to anyone who’s ever had any kind of interaction with Evan that he’s fond of the dramatics of life — his bright-colored outfits with mismatching patterns being the first example that comes to mind — and that reflects as well in his events. Especially when it comes to his birthday.

To be fair, you’ve only actually been to two birthday parties of his so far — considering the invitation usually finds you because he’s close to Nia and sees you as some sort of extension of her. Nevertheless, they were both impactful enough that left a clear impression of how much he enjoys celebrating himself. Last year in particular you remember quite well. It was what he called “Evaney” themed; being a mix of himself and his favorite artist: Britney Spears. And, while you and Nia showed up as one of at least fifteen different variations of the Baby One More Time schoolgirl outfit, Evan pulled a perfect match of the Oops! I Did It Again red bodysuit that he got one of his fashion student friends to tailor for him, as well as freshly dyed beach blonde hair to suit it. He even went as far as photoshopping pictures of himself on Britney’s body and had them printed on posters hung on every single room of the house. There were even custom-made cups and napkins with them — two of them that Nia stole at the end of the party still sit somewhere in your kitchen to this day.

Another particular thing you remember quite clearly was that there were enough people crowded in his living room to fill up your entire apartment, as you recall. And that’s about how a typical event at his home is like — even on his friendsmas dinner there were much more than just twenty people eating turkey out of disposable hot pink plates. So, Nia’s information leaves you wondering what he could have in mind for tomorrow with such a limited list of people.

Before you can voice your wonders to her, though, Nate pushes through the entrance door again. You can tell he, much like you minutes ago, is trying to cover his heavy breathing. “I left it on top of those big boxes with a bunch of books in ‘em.”

“Brilliant! Thank you, baby.” Nia grins, wrapping an arm around his middle. “By the way, we just remembered Evan’s birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow already?” Nate asks, and you hold back a giggle at the way his face scrunches in discontent. He hates going to Evan’s to a point that’s nearly comical. “Fuck’s sake.”

“And I think I’ll come here early so we can get ready together.” Nia nods towards you.

Nate grunts. “Do I have to go this time?” 

“Of course, darling.” She rises to her tiptoes to pinch his cheek, to which he brushes it off.

Nate looks at you, and you only send him a tight smile in solidarity. The two of you share similar experiences with Evan, considering the only reason either of you even gets invited is that because you’re close to Nia, and she’s close to Evan. Although you like Evan, even if you’re not that close with him, you can still put on your social mask for a couple of hours and have fun at his parties. Nate, on the other hand, is likely the least sociable person you’ve ever met, and it’s obvious how uncomfortable he gets every time. 

Nia seems to sense how tense he gets as well, because she steps in front of her boyfriend, finding his eyes with her doe-like ones. “I mean, if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.”

He sighs, “Of course I’ll go with you.” He looks up at you. “Maybe this time we can actually count how many faces of his we can see from the couch.”

This time you don’t hold back a giggle. “I have a feeling we’ll have an easier time this year.”

“Hope so.” Nate taps on Nia’s back. "Let's go, then? Is everything you need in the trunk?”

“Yup.” She answers, circling the car and opening the door to the passenger’s side. Before entering, she gives you one last look. “Do you want me to bring anything for you tomorrow?”

“I’m good.”

“‘kay!” She enters, closing the door behind her in a click and leaning over Nate to wave at you from his window. “See you tomorrow! Don’t cry too hard tonight!”

“I won’t!” You wave back.

Watching as the car pulls back, before driving away and disappearing around the corner, there’s a light breeze that raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of your arms. You cross them under your chest, leaning back into the wall of your building, not quite ready to go back to your empty home yet. The seconds blend into minutes and you stand there The promise you made to Nia not even a minute ago already pooling in your eye, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep it anyway, you let it tickle its way down your cheek.

A rougher gust of wind hits you and, this time, you turn to go inside.

                                              ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

The days are still not long enough so that the sun can shine proudly at seven in the afternoon, but as spring just about rounds the corner there’s still a golden glow as the rays provide one last warmth before disappearing on the horizon. And that’s how the sky greets you once you step out of your building to make your way towards Evan’s house for his birthday.

As planned, Nia arrived at yours with plenty of time so the two of you could help each other get ready, a bag filled with clothes she’s just taken to Nate’s yesterday under her arm for you to help her choose. “I’m thinking something monochromatic tonight.” She said as she walked in, making you jump in your spot on the couch as you didn’t hear her using the spare key. “I’m just not sure what color.” 

She ended up choosing red. There was an old box of red hair dye you found lost inside the bathroom cabinet after Nia left — along with two different brands of shaving cream, although those belonging to Nate — and, after presenting it to her, she decided to go all for it, taking it as a sign. Nate showed up just about an hour after his girlfriend, still in his work attire and barely batting an eye at Nia’s new hair color as she blew dried it. The only comment leaving his mouth being, “You look like a tomato,” before kissing her forehead and excusing himself for a nap while the two of you finished getting ready.

What neither of you realized was that Nia’s last-minute decision took more time than you predicted, giving you barely enough time to get dressed. To her, that wasn’t exactly an inconvenience considering she had an outfit ready to match any color she wanted — in this case, was a red-dyed denim two-piece. and a matching jacket that ended up discarded after she noticed it covered her newest shoulder tattoo (though you tried to argue she could just have Nate carry it so she could wear it considering she eventually would get cold at some point). To you, however, was more of a stressful task, seeing you hadn’t taken in mind to think of an outfit beforehand. So you ended up just going with the safest option that didn’t give you a lot of room to overthink, choosing to finish your makeup on the way so Evan wouldn’t have any of your heads on a plate for being late.

You’ve found that applying mascara on a moving vehicle is not the easiest task, as Nia holds your elbow to help you keep steady while talking nonstop with the driver about a topic you stopped paying any mind to about ten minutes ago.

“I’m loving our black and red moment, by the way.” She turns to you, loosening her hold as you finish the last coat. “You look like one of those hot businesswomen with your teenage daughter who likes to dress like an animated character.”

You laugh at her comparison, only now noticing the discrepancy between both your outfits. Without even realizing it, you also ended up going for the monochromatic look. Except unlike Nia’s, yours completely lacks any color. “That’s actually the best comparison you could make.”

“I know — You can take a left right here — Here, I have lip gloss.” Nia fetches a small tube from her jacket (that she ended up taking, after all), presenting it to you.

“Do you not have lipstick?”

“Are you not planning on smudging it later?” Nia wiggles her eyebrows, teasing. The hint behind her words makes you roll your eyes, snatching the lip gloss from her hand without bothering to give her an answer. There was about a month or so, just before winter rolled around, that Nia felt as if she had a mission to get you with someone. You suspect, knowing too well how her mind works, that she must’ve felt some sort of guilt for what happened during her film project last year. It was clear that her attempts came from a place of good heart, but this doesn’t mean that it made them any less annoying. However, after her plans to move in with Nate became more concrete, her cupid persona seemed to have disappeared, or so you’d thought. But now that there’s nothing else filling her mind anymore, it looks like she’s back at it, and you can’t help but snort. “What? I’m just saying-”

“You say a lot of things, most of them are incorrect.” You say, “I’m not smudging anything tonight. Not on a party with twenty people, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t say that before — right there! The big house on the corner!” Nia leans over the console, signaling to the driver where to park. It’s so sudden that you notice how he jumps just slightly from his seat, chuckling to yourself at how Nate snaps his eyes at her. 

The front of Evan’s Victorian home is unusually quiet once you step out onto the sidewalk. So much so that, if it weren’t for the lined cars parked along the street and filling his driveway, you would’ve thought you’d typed in the wrong address. 

The discrepancy is clear to you when compared to other gatherings Evan hosts in his house, but especially for his birthday. Last year, you could hear Toxic blasting from his place from the moment you turned on his street, and a small crowd gathered on his front yard — most of which you recall being comprised of people plastered out of their minds, particularly one semi-naked man who was using one lamppost as a strip pole while swinging a stuffed snake

That’s more or less the standard one could expect when invited to a party at Evan’s. So, to find the street as silent as any regular day is, to an understanding, odd. 

“Are you sure it’s the right date?” You ask as the metal creak of the front gate mends with gushes of wind whistling through the air.

“Yup,” Nia says simply, walking in front of you. “You can hear the music inside, shush.”

You come quiet, listening in, and, surely, you can hear the faint keys of a piano coming from the other side of the stone walls, but it only brings up more questions to your head than answers. Evan seems like the last person on Earth who would listen to classical music. Deciding not to voice your question this time, you follow short behind Nia, kicking some loose stones on the gravel path leading to the front door.

There’s no need for more than a single knock for it to open almost immediately, revealing a lace-clad Evan downing the last bits of his wine. Without the barrier you can hear the music more clearly, the keys of the piano meshing in a peculiar way, not like anything you’ve ever heard in a classical song— at least not ten years ago when you tried to learn piano for a year before giving up.

“Look at my favorite people!” Evan says with his purple-stained lips, pulling Nia for a hug with the arm that’s not holding the door open while pointing at a spot behind her. “Did you greet Jonathan when you passed him? It’s his birthday as well.”

He points to a spot where a gnome statue sits in the dry grass, face painted in clown makeup. Nate’s voice comes from behind you, “Christ.” 

“Nate!” Evan chirps, going straight for the man standing with a sharp smile and throwing his arms around him. “You know you’re my favorite grumpy, right?”

Nate only taps on the shorter man’s back, quickly moving to Nia’s side as soon as he’s free from the embrace. With that, Evan turns to you, hands finding your elbows as he takes you in, “And what have you been up to, bug? It's been ages.”

“You know… Books and… Stuff.” You chuckle, brushing it off. “Happy birthday, E.”

“Thank you!” He claps his hands together. “Now, c’mon, let’s get all of you started.”

Following him inside, you’re met with a glittery box standing right next to the entrance; rolls of tape seal it shut, and a hand-sized hole has been cut on top of the lid. You try to peek at what could be inside, but strings of colorful crepe paper are stuck to the hole, making it harder to know its contents.

Evan picks up the box, holding it to his side. “So, I need each of you to grab a piece of paper inside the box. There will be a number in it but for now just hold on, drink, and chat while waiting for further instructions.” His voice lowers at the end to give his words more of a mystery behind them.

Nate tenses in front of you and you have to keep yourself from chuckling at his desperate gaze moving from the box to his girlfriend as he moves uncomfortably on his feet. Nia, however, only gives him a pat on his back, barely looking at her boyfriend as she does a little dance in excitement. “Oh, this feels fun.” She says, quickly reaching her hand inside the box and retrieving a piece of paper. “Mysterious, but fun. What do you have in mind, sir?”

“Nothing too crazy this year, darling, you can relax — We’re all too tired.” He moves the box towards Nate, who reluctantly reaches inside. “Just something to mesh people together that won’t give me too much of a headache to clean tomorrow.”

“Smart.” You say, peeking at the box as it’s presented to you before reaching for a paper inside, quickly reading the number eight written on it before folding the piece between your fingers.

“Nice! As always, drinks in the kitchen. We’re starting in ten minutes!” Evan claps, hushing the three of you further inside.

Surprisingly, this time around there are no posters of his face in sight as you follow Nia and Nate to the kitchen. There’s a mild mash of voices coming from the living room — where the sound of the piano is the loudest, and you wonder if he got an actual piano or if it’s just a Bluetooth speaker —, but it’s not nearly as loud as you’re used to from past times. The lighting has been lowered to a buttery yellow; you realize once you enter the kitchen that feels too bright to your eyes in contrast to the hallway.

“Is there any alcohol?” You wonder out loud, and Nia glances at you with her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. “What? I’m just asking ‘cause everyone is unusually quiet.”

“There’s wine and — what are these guys right here?” She picks up one out of four plastic jars sitting on the kitchen island, reading the label stuck to it out loud, “Strawberry Mary — ooh, this looks fun.”

You reach for the other three to check their contents, but all have names similar to the one Nia now fills her cup with — fruity, yet mysterious: Lana Banana, Jenny Berry Mix, and Pineapple Suzan. “Did he come up with these?” You chuckle, reaching for the berry mix.

“It was probably Adam,” Nia says, and you frown. “That bartender guy? The one with the pet snakes.”

“Oh, yeah. I know him.”

The room comes quiet as you serve yourself, and only after you glance up you realize a tension lingering in the air. Nate stands awkwardly in a corner, eyes fixed on Nia as he moves his head around subtly. Glancing between the two of them, you notice how their expressions change as they keep their eyes locked, not a single word being uttered out loud. To you, it almost feels as if they are reading each other’s minds, and the heat of their silent argument becoming clear once Nate huffs, shaking his head. 

Nia clears her throat, seemingly uncomfortable, shooting you a knowing look. It’s only when she gives you a toothless smile that you realize the silent question behind it. “Uhm, I’m going to check if there are any sweets outside.”

Beelining towards the doorway, you quickly make your way out of the room. The hallway is empty and, from where you stand awkwardly in the middle of it, you can tell Evan’s left his spot by the front door, meaning he’s likely gone to the living room where the rest of the guests are. You can hear them chatting, although like you previously pointed, the voices are much more controlled than what you’re used to, and that makes you oddly flustered by the thought of walking in alone. 

Considering the limited amount of invitations this year, the chances of you knowing anyone are slim and, to add to your sudden nervousness, most of the people from Evan’s closest circle of friends are — like himself — inexplicably intimidating. This is mostly because it feels like this unspoken competition that everyone has settled with each other, to subtly brag about your success whilst simultaneously pretending to be impressed about the other’s accomplishments. And for you specifically, considering you’re not part of this artist clique that they lock themselves into, it feels particularly tiresome to be part of those interactions. 

So, you opt to wait for Nia, pretending to admire one peculiar painting hanging on a wall opposite to where the doorway leading to the living room stands. Every so often, you catch yourself glancing over your shoulder one way or the other, either towards the kitchen to check if your friends are joining you, or to the doorway where the rest of the guests are in. At one point, the voices get louder, joining in a laugh before tangling together in a mess of noise you can’t make sense of. It’s after a minute that you hear footsteps coming from the living room, making you freeze on your spot, carefully turning your back to whoever’s about to catch you avoiding the party, and focusing on the piece you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes.

The painting you first thought was just random strokes of earth tones abstractly put together you now realize it’s a man and it doesn’t take you more than a second or two to recognize Evan’s side profile in a peach shade. Your hand claps on top of your mouth as you fight the urge to laugh. The sound comes out muffled, but it stops as you hear the footsteps falter as they turn into the hallway. Keeping you back to them, you listen as the wooden floor creaks as whoever was approaching makes their way back. You peek to catch sight of who it might be, but all you make out is the shadow of mustard corduroys turning the corner.

As if on cue, Nia and Nate finally appear from the kitchen, thankfully neither appearing to be sour after the talk in the kitchen. 

“Finally.” You say, still feeling giggly from your finding. “Nate, you have to check this-”

“Okay! Let’s start, then. Do we have everyone in the living room?” Evan’s voice interrupts you as he calls out. Nia guides you along with her to the living room. And, as soon as the three of you enter, Evan nods at you, before continuing, “Now that all the bunnies are trapped, we shall begin!” He laughs, clapping his hands together before motioning vaguely to everyone. “Before I explain what I have planned, I want to pair you all. So, I’ll call out the numbers that each of you picked when you arrived, so everyone can find their pair.”

You frown, confuse yet curious about what Evan’s up to as he calls out the numbers. Now that you stop to glance around the room, you note how there are more people than you’d expected. It’s still not nearly as many as previous parties of his, but it still feels like the room is nicely filled, maybe just a dozen people above twenty. And amongst them, there’s quite a few you recognize as they pair up together — like Georgia, the first one to be called, whom you spent a good half of the New Year’s party with, or Taylor, who gets paired with Nia (you remember him particularly from a film festival that Nia had been part of — he produced and directed a short film comparing the second wave of feminism to the wildlife in the Amazon Rainforest, and Nia couldn’t stop complaining about how bad it was for the entire week after). 

It’s when Evan jokes with someone on the other side of the room, however, that you see him.

He’s tucked in a corner, right next to the bookshelves, arms crossed under his chest in a way that makes his tattoos pop out of his biceps, something you notice even standing on the opposite end of the room. His smile is subtle as he watches the scene in front of him, but it’s still enough for a dimple to poke at one side of his face -- it’s barely there, but you’ve seen it up close enough times that you notice those details. His hand holds a drink, but you pay no mind to it because what calls your attention is the mustard corduroy hugging his hips, the same one you watched run from you not only five minutes ago.

He laughs, and you avert your eyes, mouth still hung open. You wonder if anyone will notice if you leave.

But, as though he could read your mind, Evan calls the number written on that sits crumbled inside the pocket of your jacket. “Where are my number eights?”

You step forward and, like a magnet, your eyes glue on Harry as he raises his hand. 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you have to fight against an urge to shut your eyes tightly as the regret of having left your room at all tonight becomes almost overwhelming. All you expected for the night was to forget about book reports and endless essays piled up on your computer, to relax, maybe drink a bit more than you should while watching Evan’s friends dancing with a taxidermy beaver or something of sorts (that was on his friendsmas party two years ago). Instead, here you are on what feels like the first day of class dynamic your teacher has imposed to make everyone interact with each other. And, suddenly, the long pages of (insert boring book) don’t seem that bad right now.

And to make matters worse (because the universe just likes to add a little more spice to your tragedies) of all people standing in this living room you just had to be paired with the one with whom you had a fling-like relationship six months ago.

It’s awkward before he even approaches you, the tension making you fidget in your spot anxiously, barely being able to shoot a tight smile his way. 

The last time you saw Harry was through the rearview mirror of a car, standing on the sidewalk like an abandoned puppy with his tail between his legs. Though you admit you let your dramatics take away when you turned away from him to leave, the feeling behind it was genuine. You were upset. He had led you on, after all, made you think he wanted to have something more just to ignore you for months and, later, appear with a redhead under his arms and call her his girlfriend. So, yes, it wasn’t the best note to leave on.

But despite how you left the last encounter, the spark of nervousness that shoots through your stomachs right now doesn’t come exactly because of his presence, but more so for the awkward nature of this encounter. At the time it happened, you avoided any activity that had the slight possibility of seeing him again like the plague. You were hurt, and you were mad — though the second part was more directed at yourself than at him. But that was six months ago. After all, as much as you felt enchanted by him and as much as those two weeks you spent together were nice, that’s all that it was: two weeks. Yes, you were sad and, yes, maybe you shed a tear or two while watching Love, Rosie with Nia afterward, but that passed as quickly as it came.

That is, until now.

“Your hair is shorter” This Is all you blurt out when he stands in front of you again.

“It is, yeah.” Harry runs his hand through his hair. The strands that last time you saw him, curled around his jawline, now peek just under his earlobe. “Did it myself, actually.”

“Really?” You take a big gulp from your drink, gaze going anywhere but meeting his own. “Found yourself another talent.”

“Another?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I mean, besides acting.” You grin, holding the cup to your lips and sparing him a glance. “Suppose after your debut you’ve gotten yourself busy with casting calls”

“Of course” Harry laughs. Now that you’re closer you have a better look at his dimples as they pop out, as well as the constellation of freckles hugging his nose, and the mole right under his lips. You avert your eyes again. “I’m set to be the next Bond, in fact”

“Oh, wow.” You raise your brows, grinning at the brim of your cup. “I can see it.”

He turns to you, “Can you?” You peek at him. "Why is that?”

This is exactly what you were afraid of all those months ago after last seeing him. The entire reason you ran from any possibility of seeing him again afterward. You can still remember clearly how much of a flirt he is, even when he doesn’t mean to be. It’s not a secret that Harry’s a charming man. His words are like honey, and when he uses them just right, you know is enough to have you melting. And it doesn’t help how well you seem to click together. Even now, you still feel it by your impulse to flirt back, to look him in the eye, and get just close enough to feel the scent of his cologne. Do all that just to turn away in the last second. Tease him the same way he did you. But you don’t do any of that, of course, because you’re as petty as you are bitter. So, instead, you click your tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, Harry, bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about that.”

He chuckles. “What girlfriend?”

This time you turn fully at him, brows shooting up not in defiance, but surprise. “Yikes.” You say before you’re able to hold back.

“Yikes.” Harry still holds a smile when he repeats it, head falling as he lets out a — nervous? — laugh.

A question pops into your head. One that lingered in your mind for a good while now, but comes back a bit louder now that you have the information that his relationship was short-lasted after all. It’s a short one, but one that requires a long answer, you suppose. What happened? You think. But you don’t dare to voice it, you don’t want to have this conversation with him. Whatever the explanation is, it’s not going to change anything. So you just avert your gaze back to Evan, who now calls for everyone’s attention again.

“I know you’re all dying to know what this is all about. So, I’m going to explain it all.” And with that introduction, Evan dives into a monologue you only pay half mind to. It’s hard for you to focus on the words rapidly leaving his mouth as you can feel Harry glancing at you every so often from the corner of your eye. You listen in to Evan describing himself as a feisty kid and mention his love for drama, and then you feel the ghost of Harry’s arm bumping against yours as he sways on his feet. You try to pay attention to the story being told of the events leading up to this birthday party, and then you have to hold yourself back from meeting Harry’s eyes once you feel them at the side of your face once again. He makes a comment under his breath that you don’t quite catch, and you’re about to question him before Evan’s voice comes in an even higher pitch. “I wanted tonight to be exactly that: chaotic. I didn’t want anything to quite make sense, and I didn’t want to think much, if I’m honest, last year of film school is taking a big chunk of my functioning neurons and m’dad’s whiskey collection is taking the rest of them.”

There’s a collective laugh that takes place and, once again, Harry’s eyes peeking at you. “Everyone can relax, it’s not one of those murder mystery parties, as I’ve heard some people guess — for fuck’s sake as if I have the time and patience to plan something like that.” He says with a sip directly from a wine bottle you just now realize he’s been holding. “It’s a scavenger hunt, you have a partner and an envelope with clues. Each pair will find something related to moi and after it’s all done, we’ll eat burgers and talk about me for the rest of the night.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” Harry mumbles.

Evan claps his free hand on his wrist, hushing everyone. “So off you go, c’mon! I’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“This is gonna be…” You start. “Interesting.”

“Interesting is a great word to describe it.”

“Well, let’s try to do this as quickly as possible, then.” 

 The side of his lips quirks up. “On a rush?”

“This is not exactly a comfortable position to be. I think you get it.” You say, fidgeting on your feet. You wait for a second for him to say something so you can start the activity, but he doesn’t and you realize there’s a piece missing. “Do you have an envelope?”

Harry nods, reaching for his pocket where the envelope sits folded in half. He swiftly opens it, taking out a card.

 “Well?” You prompt, “Read us the first clue, Bond.”

There’s a smile that Harry fights against at the nickname and you’re not sure due to the dim light, but you think there’s a hint of a rosy tone on the apple of his cheeks. “An activity that grows lives and ruins manicures.” He reads out loud, pausing for a moment before laughing to himself. “I know this one.”

“Grows lives?” You frown. “As in, a pregnancy?”

Harry shakes his head, leading the way towards the corridor. “As in, gardening.”

“That’s a very weird way to put it.” You say, following him. “Does he garden?”

He walks into the kitchen, greeting two people you don’t recognize who are searching for something — their clue, you assume — inside the cabinets. “No, but his sister does. There’s a greenhouse in the back.”

You simply hum in response, muttering a quick thank you as he opens the door for you that leads to the back garden. The greenhouse is not unfamiliar to you from the outside, there have been a good amount of summer gatherings in his back garden for you to know of its existence. But you’ve thought nothing more about it. If you’re honest, you never really paid much attention to it. If anything, you assumed he used it as storage at most, never taking Evan as someone who enjoyed gardening. Though now you know you were right, you've also learned that his sister lives with him and you wonder why he’s never mentioned it before.

The curiosity inside of you wants to question Harry about it, to ask him what else he knows you don’t. When you think about it, there’s a lot you want to ask him about. Not just regarding Evan, but also regarding him. You wonder what he’s been up in the past six months if he ended up adopting the kitten he’d told you about back when you were still filming or if he read any of the book recommendations you wrote on his notes app one particular night the two of you chatted for longer than the moon could hold itself up in the sky. The part of you that begs for you to say something on the short walk is so strong you have to physically bite your tongue to be able to hold back.

You don’t have to hold for long, however, as Harry takes it upon himself to say, “So,” He starts, clearing his throat, “How- uh- how are you doing?”

Somehow, his words click something inside of your mind. They remind you of why you shouldn’t let that curious part of you win. The sole purpose of it not falling for his charm. You shake your head, “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He frowns, his steps faltering for a second.

“Small talk.” You answer, focused on your goal. “We’ll just solve this thing as quickly as possible so I can go back home and finish my Euphoria marathon.”

“Right.” Harry nods once, and you can’t help but notice the way his lips quirk down, the frown not leaving his face. You can’t lie and say it doesn’t make your stomach drop the slightest bit to see you’ve upset him, but you have to remind yourself how much he’s upset you, too. 

It’s protecting yourself, you think. After tonight, you don’t have to see him ever again.

Inside the greenhouse, you’re greeted with a mix of scents you’re not prepared for before stepping in. The space is compact, with a single corridor narrowed with garden beds on each side. Dozens of branches and leaves tickle you as you walk in, most of them belonging to different flowers that, despite the chilly weather that still lingers outside, are already blooming. It’s a blend of colors, bright reds, and ocean blues, soft purple petals kissing pink and yellow ones. 

“We should look for gloves.” Harry’s voice startles you, chuckling as you jump a bit.

“Huh?” 

“Gloves.” He says. “I think whatever we’re looking for has to do with the gloves, ‘cause he mentioned manicure.”

“That makes sense.” You look around. Many gardening tools are piling under the tables that hold the garden beds; watering cans and empty pots. You look between bags of fertilizer and drawers filled with shovels. There’s so much stuff to look through that, at one point, you sit back on your calves, glancing around, lost.

You hear Harry leafing through as you’re doing, feeling his legs brushing against your back as he passes by and you stop, watching him from your spot on the floor. He’s got a concentrated look on his face, bottom lip worried between his teeth as he scans through the walls before he opens another drawer. That’s when his gaze falls, catching yours. You quickly turn away, pretending to go through another pile of empty pots and blocking the sound of a chuckle coming from his spot.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clicking of ceramics and the opening and closing of wooden drawers. That is until you hear from Harry, “A-ha!”

You look up again, seeing him move to the back where few pairs of gloves hang on the wall — so obvious yet still hidden between raincoats and summer hats. “Right under our noses.” You say, getting up.

Harry searches inside the gloves, tongue trapped between his teeth. “Bingo!” He says, pulling out two tiny bottles from inside one pair.

“What is it?”

“Liquor.” He grins, peeking at you from under his lashes before ripping a piece of paper attached to it. “It says ‘one for each, now get to clue number two.’” He holds up one bottle, offering it to you, to which you take it. “It’s chocolate flavored.”

“Of course it would be a drinking game.” You open it, feeling the artificial chocolate scent braid with the alcohol. “Christ.”

“Don’t smell it, or it’ll be worse,” Harry says, downing his with one quick tilt of his head. “‘S not that bad, actually.”

You mimic his action, letting the drink swiftly burn its way down your throat. Unlike Harry, you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the taste. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Harry only giggles in response, taking the empty bottle from you and placing it back inside the gloves, along with his own. 

And then again, silence. You turn to the flowers to find some comfort.

A family of tulips glances back at you, their petals in a full red, it’s the kind of beauty you’re scared to ruin if you touch, so you just rest your hand on the wood. “They’re beautiful.” You only notice you say it out loud when Harry hums back in agreement.

“They are.” He says quietly but somehow feels loud by how close he is. “Tulips are my favorites.”

You stop, brows raising incredulously at him. “No, they’re not.”

“What?”

Cursing the universe for playing with you like this, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. “It’s just- they’re my favorites, too.” You look at him. “My nan used to plant them when I was little.”

“That’s sweet.” He says, smiling and you nod. “The red ones represent true love.” He points. “And the purple ones represent royalty.”

You blink at him. “Do you just look up tulip facts in your free time?”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, basically.” He looks down at you, and you can’t help but notice how the greenery around brings out the shade of his eyes. “I worked at a flower shop for a tick.”

“Really?”

He nods. “For eight months. My favorite part was writing on the store board every morning.” His face lights up as he recalls his experience. “I used to write silly stuff like, ‘one day I’d like to meet tulips.’ The old ladies loved it.”

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Why’s that?”

Because you’re sweet, you want to answer, because when I think I won’t get charmed by you again, you hit me with tulip puns. Your lip finds its spot between your teeth, you’d be damned to give him the satisfaction of hearing you tell him that, so, instead, you shrug. “Because.” You can tell he wants to dig more by the way his lip twitch up, teasing a smile, but you just nod towards the door before turning away from him and heading out. 

There’s a distinct change of temperature when you step outside, and it’s only when you do that you notice the greenhouse was heated. Thankfully, the night is not too windy as it would get a week or two ago when winter was still insisting on making itself present, but it’s still chilly so that it makes you hug your jacket closer to your body. Harry also notices the difference, as you hear him wince as he steps out from behind you — unlike you, he’s not wearing anything to protect his arms from the cold, which only makes it harder for you to not ogle the tattoos hugging his skin.

“So, what’s next?” You prompt.

Harry reaches for the card again, taking it from its spot on his pocket before reading the second clue. “‘Not feeling too creative to write this one, it’s on the third tree on oak.’”

“I mean, at least we don’t have to think too much on this one.” You say, “Oak Street is the one to the left, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “Can’t believe he’s making us go out on the streets.”

You start to make your way back towards the house. “Too tired for a stroll?”

“‘S cold,” Harry says, scrunching his nose. “Here, there’s a side gate.”

He guides you through a gravel path to where the black gate stands, hidden between bushes and branches. Strings of fern hug the bricked fence and the surrounding grass is high enough that it tickles your calves through your tights, making you believe this path has probably been left unused for at least a couple of months now. This information brings out an extra worry for you, as you take a better look at it, noticing how the gate is closed shut to the fence.“Is it open?” You wonder out loud.

“Shit, I don’t think it is.” Harry huffs under his breath. “But, I mean, we could easily jump it.”

You stop, turning to glance at him as the suggestion leaves his lips. He stands there, hands on his hips, examining the gate, tongue poking out as he frowns. After a second, he meets your eyes. “What? It’s not that tall.”

“I suppose.” You say, looking back at the fence that ends just below your shoulder length. It would be easy enough for you to climb it with a boost, however, “I’m wearing a dress.”

“Oh,” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just go inside-” He turns back.

“Wait,” You stop him, not sure if it’s the slight amount of alcohol in your system already making you more adventurous, you train your gaze at the gate, analyzing it again, before looking back at him. Squinting your eyes, “You have to close your eyes.”

He laughs, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not that high.” You shrug. “But I need your help.”

“Of course.” He moves next to the brick wall, kneeling before it and nodding towards you. “C’mon, step up.”

Hesitantly, you glance at his thigh stretching his trousers, a sudden wave of insecurity hitting you. “Are you sure you can lift me?”

Harry simply puts his hand out in a silent request for you to hold. “Of course.”

“No peeking.”

He shuts his eyes tightly, chin meeting his chest as he looks down. And then you take his hand, feeling his fingers lock in a firm hold as he helps you use him for support. You hesitate again before using his thigh as a step, “Wait, I’m gonna ruin your trousers.” You worry, but Harry only shakes his head, still keeping it facing the ground, the strands of his hair falling above his eyes in a makeshift blindfold. When he doesn't feel you stepping in still, he encourages you with a squeeze in your hand. 

You attempt to do as quickly as possible with your dress clinging to your legs, tightening your hold to Harry’s hand to step on his thigh. Once you let it go, you can still feel it lingering behind your back as you use your arms to boost yourself up the wall, sitting on it for a moment before jumping to the other side with a huff.

“Can I open them?” You hear Harry’s voice calls from the other side, and you smile, nodding even though he can’t see it.

“Yes!”

And then his face appears as he stands up in a jump, grinning at you. “See? Easy Peasy.”

“I feel like a teen sneaking out.” You say, and you instantly give another meaning to your words as Harry boosts himself up. This time, you certainly don’t hold yourself back from staring at the way his muscles flex at the movement, the tattoos on his arms stretching, and his shirt rolling up. He makes it look so easy, so effortless, barely taking five seconds until he’s jumping in front of you.

“That was fun.” He puffs, patting his trousers lightly.

“So, how are we finding the tree?” You ask, taking a quick glance to where his hands brush on the fabric of his trousers. “Should we read the clue again?”

“I know which one he’s talking about,” Harry says, nodding to the left before beginning his stride in that direction. You follow him, trusting his words as the two of you turn the corner where Evan’s house is located. 

The street in question is much calmer than the one you were just in, with no cars coming or going from the residences — that stand much closer to one another, you notice, giving the whole street more of a narrow feeling to it --, which is not exactly odd, but certainly is a contrast with the main street that Evan’s home faces, that one being more lively with people either coming home or leaving it to enjoy their Friday night. The sudden lack of background noise makes the walk to your destination a tad awkward, as none of you make an effort to strike a conversation. Instead, you resort to silently observing the surrounding area as you walk alongside Harry, noticing how the trees here bend over the sidewalk, their naked branches slowly but surely growing back the leaves they lost months ago — it makes you wonder how beautiful this must look during the peak of springtime, their full branches blending together, making a ceiling of flowers.

“Here.” Harry stops abruptly, making you almost bump into his shoulder, as you were too busy with the scenery you’ve made in your own head. “‘S this one.”

“I thought it said the third one.” You frown, looking back and noticing the way you’ve passed way more than just three.

“This one is the third.” He says, motioning to a small birdhouse stuck to its trunk with a number ‘3’ painted to the front in blue. “It’s a bit of an inside joke,” Harry chuckles to himself. “Now I get why the bastard wanted me to have this card.”

You look closer at the tree, trying to see if there’s something attached to it besides the birdhouse, but there’s nothing. Before you can question it, Harry opens the front of the tiny house, retrieving two tiny bottles from inside of it, similar to the ones you found in the greenhouse.  “Oh, no.” You say, laughing. “Did he just put liquor inside a stranger’s birdhouse?”

Harry shakes his head, “This is not a stranger’s birdhouse.”

“Huh?” You frown, glancing back to the house where you stand in front of, its front completely dark, showing that no one must be at home. You point to it over your shoulder. “Do you know who lives here?”

“Yeah,” He starts, offering you one bottle. “I do.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise, glancing back and forth from the house to the man standing in front of you, an amusing grin growing on his face. “You live here?” You ask, “This is your birdhouse?”

“It is, yeah. In fact, I was the one who built it.” He gives the birdhouse a small pat.

You can’t help but let your mouth hang open for a second. “That’s-” You pause, not sure which word to use. Impressive? Amazing? Hot? “That’s nice.”

Harry smiles, and the two of you stand there for a moment, admiring his work in silence. You suck your bottom lip in, keeping yourself from inquiring further. 

Being presented with how little you know about Harry only peaks at your curiosity at what had happened last year in your brief experience with him. When you were with him it felt as if you’d known him for months rather than weeks, but looking back at it now, you wonder if your infatuation fooled you into thinking the two of you were close. Maybe that’s why you were so upset at the premiere after all because all that did was prove to you how much you didn’t know him at all. No matter how many sleepless nights you spent together sharing bits of your lives, it wasn’t enough for you to get to know him.

It’s only when a car turns into the street that you break away from your thoughts, looking up at him and clearing your throat. “We should take this back to Evan’s.” You say. “I’m not sure how it would look from an outsider’s point of view to see us downing these tiny bottles in the middle of the street.”

“You’re right,” Harry says. “Should we read the last clue while we’re at it?”

“Sure, yeah.”

He reaches for the card inside his pocket, presenting it to you. “You do the honors this time.”

You take the card, brushing your thumb over the words before stopping for a second to read them out loud, “You’ll find your prize behind the words of buried legends.” You snort. “That’s so corny.”

“Words of buried legends,” Harry repeats, letting out a hum. “Bet he was feeling quite poetic when he wrote this one.”

“Maybe because it has to do with poems.” You peek at him, a slight raise to your eyebrow. “‘Words of buried legends’? like dead poets and stuff?” Upon reading it again to make sure, you mumble, “He really made this card especially for you, huh?”

“Makes sense.” Harry agrees before nudging you playfully with his arm. “Look at you with your literary mind!”

“Could’ve used some better wording but I’ll let it pass.” You giggle, shrugging as you hand him back the card. As you do so, you notice there’s something written on the other side. “What’s in the back?”

Harry’s brows meet. “Huh?”

“In the back of the card, something’s written on it.” You nod towards his hand as he’s about to pocket the card again. 

Harry turns it around, reading it with a chuckle. “Ice breakers.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Your mouth drops open in amusement. “Well? Go on, then. Break the ice.”

Harry makes a show of clearing his throat before reading the question as an announcement, “What celebrity do you think you could pull on your best day?”

“Is this the actual question?” You squint your eyes at him and he turns the card to allow you to read it as well. Surely, the same question reads right on top of it and, as you take a glance at the ones below it, they’re not that much better. You shake your head, “God, I have no idea.”

“I know mine.”

“You didn’t give a single thought on that one.” You say. “This should be good.”

“Jennifer Aniston.”

“Jennifer Aniston?” You stop on your tracks, raising your brows at him. “You know she was married to Brad Pitt, right?”

“Ouch.” Harry makes the theatrics of putting a hand on his heart, head falling dramatically to the side. “Right where it hurts.”

“I’m not saying you’re bad-looking, but he’s Brad Pitt.” You emphasize with a laugh, pushing him playfully as you keep walking. “Like he is the male beauty standard. Personified.”

The front of Evan’s feels more vivid than it was when you first walked in hours ago, the lights inside seeming lighter and the curtains having been pulled back, showing people wandering around on the inside. You walk past another pair crouched in front of the bushes that line next to the front gate that creaks as you open it.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Sure, let’s hear yours, then, sweetheart.”

“Ew, don’t ever call me that again.” Your nose scrunches and your face grows hot, but you attempt to shake it off, stopping to think of the question. “Huh, on my best day? I think… I don’t know, maybe Drake?”

“Oh, no!” Harry’s hands cover his face as he shakes his head into them. “I feel like that’s the most basic answer anyone could ever give to this question.”

You gasp. “Did you just call me basic?”

Harry holds the front door open for you and, before he’s able to give you an answer, you bump right into Nia. She instantly blurts out your name, as if she’s been expecting you to appear. “I’ve been looking for you!” She says, sparing Harry a glance over your shoulder before pulling you slightly to the side. “Do you think we could talk for a second?”

“Sure.” You hold out the word, looking at Harry before focusing on your friend again. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, nothing happened. Just—” Nia starts, locking your arms as she guides you back outside, pulling you to a corner a few steps away from the front door. “How are you? How's it going?”

“I’m fine. Why?” Your brows knit together at her interference and you wonder if it has anything to do with her conversation with Nate.

“I’m talking about-” She looks over her shoulder, clearly checking if anyone is listening in. Even after making sure that there’s no one there, she still lowers her voice. “When I saw he was your pair, I wanted to rescue you right away, but fucking Taylor pulled me with him and I didn’t get the chance.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Is it too awkward?” She keeps her inquiry, holding your hand close to her chest. “We could ask them to switch so we can do the rest together, I’m sure Evan’s too plastered to notice.”

“Nia, I-” You smile as you come to realize that she pulled you aside just to check if you’re uncomfortable, having witnessed first-hand your whines and cries over Harry last year. “It’s okay, really. It’s not that bad, surprisingly.”

“Really?” Nia blinks, taken aback. “I- What happened?”

“Nothing.” You reassure her with a squeeze on her hand. “We’re just chatting, it’s not that awkward.”

“Okay.” She nods and nods, before falling serious again. “But if anything happens you just have to scream for me and I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay.” You say, pulling her for a brief hug. “Thanks, Ni.”

The two of you return inside just as Taylor brings up his brother’s hair sculpture collection that’s being exhibited at a local gallery — a subject you already have been the victim of hearing for about an hour during New Year’s and, by Harry’s face, he seems as helpless as you did back then. Nia doesn’t waste a second before pulling her pair away, “Let’s go, pal, those clues won’t solve themselves,” she shoots you a look over her shoulder, pushing Taylor towards the living room and you chuckle.

“He really is one of a kind, that man,” Harry says with a sigh before meeting your gaze. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just lady talk.” You brush aside. “Let’s find those poets, shall we?”

“We shall.” Harry smiles, looking around for a second before guiding you down the hallway, turning just before entering the kitchen where a staircase. This is a way that — like the greenhouse — you’ve never been to. Still, Harry navigates so casually as if it were his own home and, to some degree, you suppose it is. You follow him up the first flight of steps, stopping just before turning into the next one where a door you never really noticed before stands. Harry rests his hand on the handle, turning to you before saying, “There’s an office hidden right here.”

You watch as he opens it, motioning for you to walk in first. And, indeed, the inside of it is an office, just a bit smaller than the living room on the opposite side of the house. Two bookcases that go from the floor to the ceiling mostly covered the wall, only leaving a single space in the middle for a dark wooden cabinet. In front of it, an L-shaped desk takes up the middle of the room, most of it is filled with files and paper stacks, as well as two computers lying asleep. For a moment, you just stand by the doorway, admiring this room you’ve never known of its existence, your eyes quickly sweeping through the bookshelves completely packed with dark cover books of all sorts. “Do you think this is where it could be?”

“Probably, yeah.” Harry nods, turning on the lights. “I don’t know where else he could have any poetry hidden.”

You move towards one bookshelf, the one closest to the door, reaching to brush your finger through the spines perfectly lined. “But look at the size of these, we’ll take forever to find anything in here.”

“Those big ones are mostly law books, I think,” Harry says, opening cabinets at the other side of the room, right next to where a white couch stands. He turns to look at you, “His sister’s a lawyer, this is her office.” Harry says, “But Evan’s got a corner right here where he keeps some of his stuff— like books of sorts. It’s the only place I could think of.”

You hum, not knowing exactly what to respond to this information.

“You can go through the ones on that side, it could be there as well.” Harry nods towards a cabinet right next to the door where you came from, and you nod.

The first two cabinets are of no luck, both being mostly filled with boxes full of children’s books and old toys — some of them mixed with more stacks of paper, but those, instead of having long texts, have drawings of all kinds from what you could gather in a glance, from child-like scribbles to actual sketches. You can hear Harry going through drawers on the other side of the room and, upon closing another empty cabinet, you peek at him, watching his broad back flexing under his shirt as he moves around. Averting your eyes as swiftly as you looked, it’s still enough to bring warmth to your cheeks.

Finally, you open the cabinet at the very bottom of the shelf. On the top, there are piles of DVDs, most being different variations of Barbie movies, but, right at the bottom, you find books. You don’t stop to check their genre at first, simply moving them away until you stumble upon a small box, the top of it marked with the word ‘prize’. “Found it!” You call back, taking the box away from the pile before setting the books back in place again. “Under Rupi Kaur? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s very alive.”

“Don’t tell Evan that,” Harry says as he crouches next to you, taking the box from your hands. Inside, there are, as expected, two tiny bottles like the ones you found before but, what calls both your attention, is a small bag of sweets lying in the middle. Harry takes it, “Oh, those are nice.”

He hands it to you and you open it, quickly shoving a jelly candy into your mouth before nodding. “Yeah.”

“So…” Harry starts, peeking over his shoulder, “Do you want to go back there?”

You glance at him, his eyes hovering above yours, lips twitching up just barely. “Uh… Maybe not right now.” You answer, “Unless you feel like sharing our Jellies with other people.”

Harry only laughs, shaking his head as he sits back and you do so too, right next to him. He reaches for his pocket, presenting another tiny bottle, the one you found inside his birdhouse, “We still got these.” 

“Right!” You fetch your own out of the pocket of your jacket.

Harry opens his, holding it up towards you. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” You say, mimicking him.

Both of you down your drinks, the liquid tasting bitter, like medicine on your tongue, the only reminder of alcohol being the burn as it slides down your throat. You rest your head back on the cabinet behind you as the two of you fall into silence once more. A part of your mind is already beginning to swim around the space inside your head, and you decide to not take the last drink just yet, laying it next to your leg. Though you’ve only had the equivalent of two shots, you realize the long break you’ve had from drinking for the past couple of months -- which wasn’t exactly an intentional choice, but more like the result of your lack of free time -- is showing itself to have been enough to make you more of a lightweight. 

And even though the night so far has been strikingly surprising in terms of how comfortable you felt being around Harry again, it doesn’t mean the questions you’ve been carrying since last year have gotten any quieter. They’ve only gotten louder. More persistent, even. The curiosity you feel to know what happened is almost suffocating now. And you’d be damned if you let a drunken mind stop you from having this conversation.

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, only watching the back of his head bobbing along with the music -- still the piano -- that comes faintly from behind the closed door. Your lips part, feeling the question form right at the tip of your tongue, but not knowing how to voice the words. Will it be awkward? You think so, but what if it ruins the night? Tonight, that’s been so oddly refreshing. A night that only served to remind you how you became so infatuated with him in the first place.

But you know you won’t be able to let go of this ich inside your head unless you bring it up. And you want to, you do, but as you take too long to think of the right way to do so, Harry decides to break the silence, murmuring next to you, “That’s a good one.”

Your brows knit together, trying to make out any trace of familiarity within the song that’s playing, but you don't find any, which only leaves you even more confused.  “Do you like classical?”

“Love,” Harry says simply, his eyes closed as he moves his head with the piano keys. “Especially this one. One of the greatest works from one of the greatest contemporary composers: Billie Eilish.”

Your lips fall open, “Shut up. Is she playing this?”

Harry laughs, a full one, that brings a grin to poke at your lips. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, no. It’s a version of her song — listen in.” He points to his ear, nodding with the melody as he sings along, “So you’re a tough guy, like it really rough guy.”

You shake your head incredulously, “Of course he’s playing classical versions of pop songs!” 

“Did you really think Evan had a taste for Chopin or Debussy?” Harry asks both dimples poking on his cheeks.

“I think at this point I’d believe anything you tell me about him.”

Both of you laugh, the air surrounding you light and warm, before falling quiet again. This time, however, you simply stare at each other for a beat. You watch his eyes, with their almost hypnotizing jade shade, glancing between your own. He rolls his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night, and the details on his face only feel like a reminder of your doubts. Like the nostalgia you feel with a bittersweet memory.

“Should we-“ You stop, the words falling from your lips before you can think about them. “Should we talk about the elephant in the room?”

You half expect Harry to frown, to play dumb, and question you the meaning behind your words. For a second, you even expect him to shake his head, to get up and leave the room. And, for some reason, you kinda want him to do so. To finally break the mask of the nice, sweet guy he’s been putting on all night and allow himself to play the role of cold prick you put him on for the past months. 

But he doesn’t do it. He only gives you a short smile. “I was thinking about how to bring it up.” Harry’s gaze falls to his lap for a beat as he scratches his nose. “We should, yeah.”

You nod, more to yourself than to him. This is it. The moment to ask what you’ve been waiting for for six months now. You decide not to think much anymore, allowing the question to roll freely, “I don’t really know how to word this better but- pardon my French- what the fuck happened?”

Harry chuckles, but not an amused one. It’s more of a dry, nervous laugh. “How cliche is it if I tell you I was really fucking stupid?”

“Pretty cliche.” You say, “But also pretty true, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry for that.” He looks up, eyes meeting yours again, his own softening upon seeing you. “I really am.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile a little, “But I think I deserve an explanation.”

“You do.” He speaks quietly before clearing his throat. For a second, he doesn’t say anything else, just takes a sharp breath, focusing on his fingers that play with the hem of his trousers. “I- Uhm- I know this might come as a surprise, but I’m not very good at letting people down.”

“A bit, I guess.” You try to humor, but your tone doesn’t show it. You sound quiet, hurt.

He peeks up at you, and continues, “Jess- the girl you met at the premiere- she’s lovely and all, but- how do I say this- we were never really supposed to be together.” Harry sighs, “I didn’t like her like that.”

You frown, “Then, why did you?”

“A couple of months before we met- before Evan even mentioned the film project to me, one of my mates kept insisting that I should meet his sister.” He pauses, “That was Jess.”

“I figured.”

Harry nods, “As I said, she’s a lovely girl, really nice, but we just- didn’t click like that, you know?” You hum in agreement, ignoring a small twist in your stomach when he repeats the endearment term. “But I guess she really wanted to try it, and, for months, I just kept pushing and pushing, cause I thought maybe with time I could bring myself to feel the same way.” And then again, another humorless laugh, “But- spoiler alert- I couldn’t and I should’ve just told her that.”

Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you decide against saying anything. It’s clear as you watch him explain that the entire situation for him felt more complicated than you’d ever considered. Not once did you think about the possibility of him being caught in a twist of his own decisions, and not once did you regard his feelings with the whole situation. In your bubble of gloominess, all you could think of was how he played you and used you for a bit before moving on to the next girl that fell for his sweet talk. 

Looking at him now, however, his head low and brows set on a permanent crease, lips frowning down, you can feel the internal conflict pooling out of his pores. You’re not sure if it’s exactly a look of remorse that he gives you, but it sure seems close to it.

Harry huffs in what feels like frustration as he keeps recalling the events, “But all my mates kept taking the piss, pushing me to ask her out and then, in the middle of it, I met you.” He finally smiles a bit, and you have to look down to hide the warmth that spreads on your cheeks, “And we-uh-” He shrugs, “I mean, we clicked, didn’t we?”

“I think so.” You say, just above a whisper.

“I think so, too,” Harry says, holding your gaze with his own. “And when I was with you I let myself forget about that, forget about the pressure to be with someone else, I guess.” His lips fall again, eyes meeting his lap, “But when we came back, there wasn’t much running away from it anymore. The night we got back I met that friend of mine and, I’m not sure if he said anything to Jess, but she asked me out.”

“And you said yes.”

“I said yes.” He repeats, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have, but I said yes.”

“So you just dated her? Even if you didn’t like her like that?” You say, trying to understand his thought process. Even if his words tug at your heartstrings -- which you try to not think about right now -- you still can’t help but feel a bit for the other girl.

“I thought I could- I don’t know, I thought with time maybe I could-” He stumbles around with his speech, before finally letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what was going through my head, to be honest. I was a prick.”

“At least you can admit to it.��

“I was a prick to both of you.” 

You fall quiet, hoping he takes your silence as an agreement. When he doesn’t offer anything else, you speak up again, “Did it work, though?” He frowns, and you clarify, “Letting time force feelings into you?”

“I found very quickly how hard it is to develop feelings for someone when there’s someone else on your mind.” He says, and you bite back a smile that wants to spread on your lips.

“It’s very easy to say that now.”

“I know.” He agrees, “And I wish I could’ve realized that earlier, before even bringing you into this mess.” Harry reaches for your wrist, which lies on top of your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For that I really am sorry.”

“I know you are.” You reassure, turning your hand to find his, squeezing it back. “And what happened to Jess?”

“She was rightfully upset when I told her.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, moving the rings on your fingers around just slightly, and it’s almost enough to distract you from his voice. “We broke up a day after the premiere.”

“Ouch.”

“But it’s fine now, she’s got a boyfriend now who actually cares for her the way she deserves,” Harry says.

“That’s nice to hear, at least.”

“It is, yeah.”

You look down at your hands locked in your lap, squeezing his one more time before letting it go with a sigh.  “You really made a big mess, huh?”

He chuckles, a guilty smile poking on his face, “I did.”

You nod, finally reaching for the tiny bottle left forgotten next to you, opening it. This time you only take a sip, but it’s still enough to end half of the liquid inside. You click your tongue, “I’m glad we talked, though.” You look up at Harry again, who’s already watching you, giving a small tap on his thigh. “It’s nice to have closure, you know? To give it a conclusion and wrap with a nice little bow.”

Harry rolls his lip inside his mouth, “Is this a conclusion, then?”

You raise your brows, “Is it not?”

“I guess it could be.” He shrugs one shoulder, leaning closer to you just barely, eyes trained in yours. “But I’m hoping that, after today, maybe we could start over?”

You laugh, scrunching your nose at him as you shake your head. “Not a start over, no.” You poke his side, “You’re not getting away that easy.”

“You’re right.” He says, still not budging as he frowns his lips. “But I wish it didn’t have to be an ending as well.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nods, you can tell his eyes hold a shyness that wasn’t here a minute ago, but at the same time -- as paradoxically as it seems -- there’s a boldness as well, one you’re more familiar with. “Maybe we could chat again. This time with fewer ice breaker cards and more bags of sweets.”

You smile, rubbing your chin as you pretend to ponder about his suggestion. “That does sound very promising.”

“I really do think we clicked.” He drops his playful tone as if wanting to make sure you feel the sincerity behind his words. “Wasn’t just saying it.”

“I know.” You say, “And I think so, too.”

His smirk grows, and he doesn’t offer anything else to say, but you can tell he’s holding something back. With the silence, you suddenly become too aware of the way your arms brush together, and how his knee bumps against yours. You notice how his eyes fall a bit from yours, so quickly you could’ve imagined it, but you choose to not think so. If you lean forward, you know he will too, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You’re not letting yourself make the first move.

Surely, you’re aware these thoughts are a direct result of the alcohol sweeping through your mind, testing how much of your pride you’re willing to ignore. There’s no questioning of the wall that you built all those months ago after walking out of this very house with this very man on your tail blurring out apologies. It still stands, tall and strong, and you're not letting sweet words mixed with a drink or two pull it down. Not that easily. But at this moment, looking at his stupidly beautiful face with his stupidly beautiful eyes so close to you, you feel like maybe you could peek through a window, or open up a door — just a creek, just to have a sample of what it would feel like if you were to pull it down.

“Do you want to go back?” Harry asks again, this time more quietly, this time his question has a different implication than it did before.

You're quick to shake your head, voice quiet, “Not yet.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and you raise your brows, silently daring him to ask what he’s been holding. You see his hand moving from the corner of your eyes, but you don’t break your gaze from his, not even when you feel his fingertips moving so gently against your cheekbone, brushing your hair away from your face. Harry leans closer, again just barely, and again, you stay still, only smiling softly in encouragement. Now, you’re stuck in your own silent conversation; both seeking the same thing but not making the move to achieve it -- either for pride or apprehension. 

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Harry whispers finally, eyes moving down again, this time slowly, making sure that his intentions are clear.

“Do it, then.” You tease.

Harry breathes out a laugh, his hand caressing its way down to your jaw. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, a feathery touch, taking another second to look at you before pulling you in. Your eyes fall closed, as you focus on your senses, and allow yourself to peek from that window, or creek that door open just a bit, to have just this moment to remember when you first got lost in his touch. 

First, it’s the warmth of his breath tickling your cupid bow, making your hold your own breath in anticipation. Then, the tip of his nose, gentle against your own, and you can’t help but lean in a bit more when you feel the ghost of his lips on yours. But he pulls back, just so slightly, hoping to have you reach for him again. Except you don’t, knowing what he’s trying to do.

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look him in the eye. “You don’t get to tease me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, “That’s fair.”

This time, there’s no teasing. Still, he goes in just as slowly as he did the first time around, curving his lips around your bottom one so softly it almost makes you lean in again. His kiss is cloud-like in a way that makes you a bit dizzy and when he presses his lips harder, you have to refrain from letting out a dreamy sigh -- still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction. It’s when you feel the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip in a silent request, that you pull away completely.

It’s your turn to smirk now, licking your lips before announcing, “I think we should go back now.”

[endcryst4l]

the best shark friends

third part in the series, gn!reader meeting tubbo! the first two parts are not necessarily needed to be able to read this one though!! let me know what you think, enjoy :D

part 1 (favorite galaxies) / part 2 (fairy tale)

“(Y/N)?” Tommy’s voice rang through your headphones. Techno and you were on a call together, both silently doing your homework. “Hm? Oh, hey Tommy. What’s up?” you answered. “Techno and I are home alone today and Tubbo is coming over and we wanted to go to the aquarium with you!”

he smiled widely and Techno’s eyes widened, mouth opening to protest. This wasn’t the plan they agreed to. “I’d love to!” you said before Techno even had the chance of saying no. Tommy cheered and climbed out of Techno’s lap. “(Y/N) this is going to be a day of torture, oh my god.” Techno groaned as you laughed, “hey we can do this. Do you have enough food to bring along? I could stop by the store to get some on my way to your place.” “That’d be nice actually,” Techno said, scratching the back of his head, “we ran out yesterday and I forgot to go to the store.” 

“At what time are we picking Tubbo up?” you asked, finishing up the last exercises. “Uhh 2 PM, so in an hour.” he answered while also working on the last bit of his homework. You hummed, “I’ll get going then. I’ll see you in a bit, I love you.” “I love you too (Y/N).”

After cleaning up your desk, you got ready to leave. Quickly scanning your backpack to see if you had everything you needed you put on your jacket and headed out to the store. You bought some snacks and water bottles, deciding on making some PB&J’s at Techno’s place as well. You said goodbye to the cashier and made your way over to Techno, mentally already preparing for the day ahead.

~

Tommy had seen you arrive through the windows and quickly ran to the door, opening it before you even got the chance to knock. “(Y/N)!!” he exclaimed while lunging at your legs. “Hey big guy!” you laughed, ruffling his hair. “Hey love.” Techno said while walking over to you. “Hey Tech.” you answered and kissed him, making Tommy gag. Techno sighed and you rolled your eyes smiling, getting a warm feeling all over. Every day you grew more appreciative for the bond you created with Techno and his family. 

“Do you want to help me draw something for Tubbo?” he asked, looking up at you hopefully. You smiled, “after I’ve made some PB&J’s I’d love to.” He nodded, before walking off to the kitchen table where all of his supplies were spread out already. “How are you feeling?” Techno asked as he closed the door behind you two. “Kind of nervous but otherwise good. What about you?” you answered, while walking to the kitchen. “Preparing for insanity.” he dryly said and you laughed, almost dropping the jar of peanut butter. “Are they really that bad?” you asked Techno, who was now looking at you with a look of disbelief. “You’ve met Tommy. Him and Tubbo are like amplifiers of each other, especially in environments where they can run off easily.” he sighed, “I can’t believe dad hasn’t bought a leash or something yet.” 

You snorted, not expecting the last sentence, “We could bribe them to stay with us with candy or something, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” “If you say so.” Techno said, putting the finished sandwiches in a ziplock bag and walking over to your backpack to put them in.

“Ooo that’s pretty.” you giggled as you walked over to Tommy, who was drawing fish on the moon. “What color should I make this fish?” he asked, pointing to one on top of the moon. “Hmm,” you began, “Purple? I think that’ll look nice with the white one and the green one.”

He nodded, quickly grabbing his purple pencil. Techno walked to the table with Tommy’s shoes and jacket. “Ready to go see Tubbo?” he asked before sitting down next to Tommy to put his shoes on. “Yeah!” Tommy exclaimed excitedly, rolling up his drawing. You grabbed your backpack and swung it over your shoulder. The blonde grabbed his jacket from Techno’s hands and put it on himself, then happily skipping to the door. The two of you followed him, Techno locking the door behind him and unlocking the car. You opened the door for Tommy and he quickly climbed in his car seat and buckled himself in, double checking quickly before closing his door and sitting next to Techno. He turned on some music before starting the car and driving off to Tubbo.

~

It was a short drive, honking once all of you arrived. Not a second later Tubbo came running to the car, his dad following shortly behind him. Tubbo’s dad opened the door and put him in his car seat as well. “Hey Techno, thank you for- oh I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Sam.” Sam smiled at you. “No we haven’t, I’m (Y/N), Techno’s partner.” you smiled back, Tubbo and Tommy already talking to each other. Sam smirked and patted Techno on his shoulder, “good job kid.” 

You laughed as Techno blushed, “yeah yeah alright. I’ll text you when we’re on our way back.” Sam nodded, “Tubbo be good okay?” “Yes dad, bye!” Tubbo answered quickly before going back to his conversation with his best friend. “Bye Sam!” Techno and you said as he closed the car door, waving as Techno drove off again.

“Look! I made this for you! (Y/N) helped me pick the colors for the fish,” Tommy said while pointing at you, “They’re really nice.” 

You waved at Tubbo, Tommy giving him his drawing. “Oh! Thank you. Hi (Y/N)!” Tubbo said, smiling at you. “Hi!” you smiled back, Tommy and Tubbo quickly falling into new conversation.

Twenty minutes later you arrived at the aquarium, the boys getting more excited with every second passing. Techno and you walked behind them to the entrance, not wanting to lose them this fast. Techno did the talking and paid with Phil’s card. He handed you the tickets and you walked to the gates with the boys, who insisted on scanning the tickets themselves. After showing them how you gave them both their tickets, Techno behind them to help them. Whilst they were trying to get through, you got a map of the place. 

After a few tries they successfully made it through. “Ready to go?” you asked the younger two. “Yes!” both of them eagerly yelled, running off to the nearest building. Techno sighed before telling them to stay close, making Tommy groan. 

The best friends walked in front of you two, occasionally stopping at the smaller aquariums to see which animals were in there. Techno and you walked around too, holding hands and talking about everything and nothing. 

After a while of walking around they stood still in front of an arch to a big shark tank. You noticed their frightened expressions and softly smiled, stepping forward to the boys and letting Techno’s hand go.

“It’s not that scary if we go together, I promise. Does that sound good?” you asked the two boys, holding your hands out to both of them. They nodded and held on tightly, slowly walking towards the shark tank with you. Some of the bigger sharks swam by and you felt both of the boys squeezing your hand harder, making you smile slightly. Once directly in front of the water they couldn’t stop looking around with amazed looks on their faces.

Techno had the same look on his face, mixed with absolute adoration. He wasn’t sure what he did to have become so lucky to have you in his life and be able call you his, but he was incredibly grateful. He wished he could frame this moment and hang it up in his room, so he could look at it forever. You turned around to look at Techno, seeing him watch with a wide smile. Your cheeks reddened as you smiled back at him and motioned him to come over. 

“Techno look! They’re so cool!” Tommy said, once he noticed Techno was standing next to him, pointing at the sharks that were swimming together. “Yeah they are. Not so scary after all huh?” Techno chuckled and both Tommy and Tubbo shook their heads. “Lunch time?” you suggested and all of the boys agreed. All of you walked to the nearest bench, Techno and you sat at the ends of the bench, Tommy and Tubbo in between. You opened your backpack and gave everyone a sandwich and a bottle of water. “I have some apple slices and gummy bears as well if any of you wants some.” you told them. 

“Could I have some apple slices (Y/N)?” Tubbo asked you. “Of course!” you answered as you grabbed them from your backpack. You opened the pack they were in and handed it to Tubbo, Tommy also eating some of them. After a few more sandwiches all of you got up and went to see a dolphin show. Tommy and Tubbo had grown significantly quieter, yawning occasionally. During the show Tommy leaned against you, slowly falling asleep. Tubbo was leaning against Tommy, also dozing off. The clapping of the audience startled them, waking them up. 

“Want to go home?” you whispered to Tommy and he nodded, rubbing his eyes. Tommy stood up, Tubbo following suit. Techno and you also stood up, Techno looking at you with a raised eyebrow. You nodded, following him out of the theater. The four of you calmly walked to the exit, the gift shop catching Tommy’s eyes. “Oh! Can we take a look? Please?” he asked, looking up at you with puppy eyes. “A quick one, but don’t touch anything okay?” you told them and he nodded, grabbing Tubbo’s arm and running into the store.

“You know, you have to learn to say no or he’ll actually be the death of you.” Techno said, intertwining his hand with yours again. “Hmm, maybe. But for now it’ll be fine.” you smiled, kissing his cheek before walking in the store.

“(Y/N)!” Tommy yelled once he saw you. “He knows, he definitely knows. He doesn’t even call for me anymore.” Techno dramatically said before laughing and you hit his shoulder lightly. “Yes Tommy?” you answered, walking over to where he was standing. Techno followed, amused by this whole situation. Out of all of the possibilities imaginable, he definitely did not expect Tommy and Tubbo holding shark themed best friend t-shirts and just how great they looked. 

“Can we get these? Please? We’ll look so cool together, now everyone will know we’re best friends!” Tommy tried to convince you two, Tubbo frantically nodding next to him. You basically melted at the sight in front of you. “Sure, did you get the right sizes?” you said, Tommy then showing Techno both of the tags who took a brief look and nodded. The two boys cheered and you smiled, looking at Techno with an apologetic look on your face. He laughed, “they looked too cute to resist this time, I’ll agree on that one.”

Tommy and Tubbo had already rushed off to the cashier, Tommy putting the shirts on the counter because he was a little bit taller. Techno stood next him, ready to pay with Phil’s card again. “If dad gets mad you just show him the shirt okay?” Techno said to Tommy when all of you walked out of the store. Once back at the car they quickly put the t-shirts on and high fived. “(Y/N)? Could you take a picture of us?” Tubbo asked, “of course!” you replied while getting your phone out. Tommy and Tubbo stood next to each other smiling, Techno quickly jumping in to straighten out their shirts. “Ready?” you asked the two younger ones. “Yeah!” they both exclaimed before smiling wildly, Tommy’s arm over Tubbo’s shoulder. You took a few pictures of them, now ushering Techno over into the frame. He glared at you before standing in the middle of the two other boys. Tommy quickly flipped him off, surprising you and Tubbo, both of you bursting out in laughter. The two brothers started bickering loudly, making you sigh. “Hey, hey, hey, be nice. Let’s go home, okay?” you tried to interfere, Techno and Tommy still staring each other down. You and Tubbo shared a look, trying hard not to laugh again. “Fine.” Techno said, Tommy proudly smirking when Techno walked away first. You shook your head at him, opening his car door. Techno opened Tubbo’s and both of you helped buckle them up.

Not long after leaving the parking lot they were asleep, exhausted from seeing new things and running around all day. You sighed contentedly, catching Techno’s attention. “We survived.” you laughed and he chuckled, “I’d say we did a pretty good job, I had a lot fun. Except for just now. That little asshole.” You laughed and yawned, stretching in the car seat. “It really caught me off guard. I had fun too but I’m really tired.” 

You took a glance in the rearview mirror, giggling at what you saw. “What?” Techno asked. “Look at them.” you answered whilst nodding to the backseat. They were both sound asleep, heads leaning to each other and in their best friends t-shirts. Techno smiled, “they’re never taking those shirts off. Also could you text Sam for me?” he asked, giving you his phone.”Of course.” you said while unlocking his phone and telling Sam you were on your way back. 

It didn’t take long for you to arrive at Tubbo’s place, Tubbo waking up a little from the car standing still. Tubbo’s dad came outside and opened the car door, immediately laughing. “Those shirts are everything, oh my gosh. Fits them perfectly as well. Thank you guys a lot, by the looks of it he’s had a lot of fun.” Sam said while unbuckling Tubbo and picking him up. “Of course, don’t worry about it.” Techno answered and you nodded in agreement. “Bye Techno and (Y/N).” Tubbo sleepily said before waving. Techno and you both told him bye while waving as well, driving off home. Tommy was still peacefully asleep when you arrived home. After Techno parked the car, you got out and unbuckled Tommy before picking him up and carrying him inside. “Hey guys.” Wilbur said once he saw you three walk in. You waved at him, pointing to the sleeping blonde in your arms. Wilbur nodded understandably, raising up from his seat to take him over from you and put him to bed. Everyone knew waking up Tommy was a task sent from hell, so dinner would just have to be late for him. 

Soon after, Phil came home and Wilbur came downstairs. The four of you ate dinner happily, talking about the day at the aquarium and showing him the picture of them in their shirts and the ones you took of all three of them. Phil loved it so much, he didn’t care how much money they might’ve cost. Techno and you skipped after dinner tea, opting to go to sleep early. You changed into some of his clothes, both of you brushed your teeth and laid down in his bed. Techno put his arm around you and pulled you closer. “I love you (Y/N).” he murmured, making you smile. “I love you too Tech. Goodnight.”

[officialtrashbin]

~* Middle Grounds *~

An Edelclaude appreciation ficlet for @villtura! There’s no excuse for this one, I’m just here to help feed the Edelclaude fans.

***

A woman in the shape of a monster | a monster in the shape of a woman | the skies are full of them

- Adrienne Rich, Planetarium

***

She finds him shortly after the Battle of Eagle and Lion’s impassioned conclusion, and though their encounter is likely entirely incidental he allows himself to imagine she had witnessed his tragic fall from grace and experienced an inkling of empathy in his wake. When she gets closer, he sees now that her crimson armor is like a streak of blood red paint on the gilded landscape canvas he spotted Ignatz coloring just yesterday—a contrast so sudden, so striking he believes for a moment she might well and truly exist as only a painting: a conjured figment of his desire, or a memory of someone he’d never met but would like to.

“Do—” his throat is dry. He swallows and tries again. “Do you paint?” he asks, more clearly, as her face comes into view above him.

Edelgard starts back a step. “Who told you that?!”

So that confirms the art supplies she once carried back to her room from Bernadetta’s were not, as claimed, borrowed for an assignment. He opens his mouth in a wide smile and says, “You did, just now. It was only a question and I otherwise would have never guessed you have a talent for the arts.”

She stammers out a half-hearted reply before reconsidering her tone, opting instead to salvage her pride. “I’m not talented by any means. I just enjoy it, is all, and—you’re bleeding.”

He is definitely bleeding. It’s simple to deduce, both by the pounding headache he initially developed in his collision with the field and the dangerous warmth sliding down the left side of his face, that he’d struck either the ground hard enough to split open his eyebrow or maybe an upturned stone positioned just right.

“Did anyone see that?” he hears himself ask, and it only now occurs to him that he’s still under the same tree he vaguely recalls crawling to for some semblance of cover. If only his sisters could see their little brother all grown up and splayed in near pieces across the dirt—the bastard duke in all his glory.

“You mean Sylvain grounding you with an impressively hurled javelin?” Edelgard glimpses out to the greater expanse of the field and spots Ignatz and Lysithea, their hands over their faces as the Gautier boy gloats nearby. “...Probably not.”

Claude stares half-lucidly up at the lightning crack of bright blue sky formed by the close proximity of tree branches. He wonders if the fall has made him home sick, or if he shouldn’t have underestimated the way Leonie warned him at intermediate sword practice that arrows aren’t the only dangers from below. In a real battle, it would have been his real death. But like a painting, that’s only a speculative idea encompassing more what-ifs than he cares to dwell on. It isn’t a mistake he can afford to make back home. It isn’t a mistake he can afford to make again.

“Tell you what,” he says, “I’ll...cut you a deal.”

She gives him a sideways look. Slowly, he raises his hand and extends his fingers towards hers. An act of trust, he doesn’t say because he doesn’t need to. “Don’t tell Lorenz you saw me like this and I won’t tell anyone you have normal hobbies.”

Edelgard has no reason to agree to such terms but he notes the way her own fingers twitch in apprehension. She might be considering his words, mentally turning them over and over to find the truth somewhere underneath, as certain of him as he is of himself. Or maybe she’s going to bite, because that’s all this exercise has ultimately been for their classes: an act of aspiration against oblivion. The division of people who have hopes, who have dreams, and who know better.

Her hand flexes. Raises. Reaches out. He continues to gaze up at her from this angle, at the halo of warm hues around the back of her head from the low noon sun. It feels like looking at her for the first time. Like he didn’t spend every other day meeting her in the courtyard for tea, intaking the essays of her political ideologies and ambitions in spite of the world, knowing the future existed simply because she claimed it did—he commits this moment to memory because he doesn’t think he will ever fall in love with anyone else again.

He allows her fingertips to glide over his, pantomiming a snake sliding through the grass, unassuming but always inclined to strike—and to his surprise she grasps his wrist, bringing them together into a hold he hasn’t made the mistake of replicating since his last trip to Almyra.

Did she know?

“I might paint Gronder Field tonight,” she tells him when he misses his opportunity to continue the conversation because he’s preoccupied mentally tramping down his terror, and then releases her grip as if to forget it ever happened. Claude almost laughs but then she would know he’s shaking.

“You’ll have to show me sometime,” he says distantly instead, and closes his eyes against the glare of the sun.

[taehyungsgrowl]

okay so i know the other day i had that ask about hot 😳yoga w andy but ive been thinking about like meditating w him or like... him testing your self control...

like tells you he wants to try a new breathing exercise...

yes this is just a cockwarming andy fic

"There is something so special about becoming one," Andy dragged his fingertips along the grass he sat on. "One with nature... Two becoming one..." he let himself trail off.

"Take a deep breath," he looked into your eyes. He placed his hands on his abdomen feeling his stomach rise as he filled his lungs with the crisp air. You were surrounded by an endless sea of lush grass and prominent mountains that dipped into the low valley you were in that just made it feel like you were being held by the world.

He'd taken you just out of the town to be one.

You'd told him you weren't sure if you bought into the zen of it all, but being alone, lungs filled with clean air, bare feet on the ground, and away from the noise - Andy might've been right.

He reached across the small space between you to take your hands in his. "If you have one take away from all of this - it's the power of self control," he squeezed your hands.

"Take your clothes off," he dropped your hands and started to undo the buttons of his soft linen shirt. "We're trying something else today."

The last few sessions with Andy were intense. He'd shown you a whole new way to practice yoga- a way that made you connect with your innermost desires. Your stomach burned in anticipation as to what was to follow. All he had told you about your current session was that it would be more mediation than yoga.

He let his shirt drop off his shoulders, but instead of letting his pants go next, he slowly started to palm over his cock, feeling it harden against his hand. His eyes were trained on you. He took in every movement you made to remove your clothes. You glanced down after you stood up to take your pants off and were met with his intense gaze looking at you - worshipping the way you looked.

Andy wanted to memorize everything about your body. He wanted to know how you responded to his touches. He dreamt of the sounds you made when he curled his fingers inside of you. He studied each of your imperfections and made you feel love for them.

Andy wanted you to see yourself as he saw you.

"Beautiful," he mumbled once all of your clothing was removed. He lifted his hips and removed the rest of his clothes as well, making a messy pile to his side. His cock sprung up against his lower abdomen. Seeing it again made you let out a soft gasp - you were filled with memories of the last time you were with him.

His head was pink and already leaking in precum. There was something so primal about being with Andy. He let your bodies be your guides. You connected like puzzle pieces.

He wrapped his hand around his member and slowly jerked himself a few times. He chuckled a little when he saw the way you clenched your legs together. You felt your center radiate an immense heat.

The fire between you and Andy couldn't be recreated - that much you knew.

"Are you ready?" he held his hand out to pull you down again.

You nodded eagerly, mouth watering as you sunk to your knees. Your hand replaced his and you began to lead your head down to take him in your mouth. Just before you could reach your lips to the tip of his cock, he grabbed your chin, tilting it up to make you look at his.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, darling," he smirked. He patted his thighs - an open invitation for you to take a seat on his lap. He helped you on to his lap, gently guiding you down on his cock. You wrapped your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck. His chest was pressed against yours and you could feel him steadying his breathing.

Your pussy throbbed around his hard cock as it made it's way deep inside you. "Shh," he cooed, brushing the back of his hand along your cheek, "Easy, love."

"Andy," his name came out of your lips like a sacred secret.

"I'm gonna need you to stay still for me, okay?" his hands slowly traveled down your back.

"W-what?" you stammered, attempting to keep from squirming on his lap.

"Trust me," he ghosted the words over your lips. "I just want to feel you."

Your warm, wet walls clenched around him instinctively with the desire for him to fuck deep into you. Andy calmed your body by gently tracing patterns along your back.

"Breathe me in...." he kissed you gingerly.

You gasped against his lips, letting his tongue slip inside your mouth.

Slow and sensual - time seemed to have stopped entirely within his kiss. His hands continued to roam all over your body. He made it harder and harder to stay still with each movement of his hand.

"Please..." you begged, digging the heels of your feet into his back to rock forward on his lap.

Andy shook his head as he took your nipples between his fingers to make them pebble in his touch. "You're doing so well..." he praised. His hand dragged along your neck just simply feeling your pulse below your skin. You grabbed his hand and wrapped it around your neck. He smiled approvingly and gently squeezed.

"Doing so good," He let out a deep breath before finally releasing your neck to have you gasp in his air.

His hips bucked up, piercing himself deeper into you making you moan out his name.

"Fuck," he groaned. You felt him twitch inside you and you knew even his own compsure was faltering.

Skin to skin and the sun shining down on you both over an infinite sky had you both blazing.

"Okay," he nodded in between kisses, "Move with me," his hands were once again placed on your lower back, making their way down to your hips. He commanded your movements on his cock with the ends of his fingers digging into your skin.

You had stayed still for him for so long that the pace he was setting did not feel like enough - you were over the slow and steady. You wanted more.

"Faster, Andy..." you whined, grinding down.

He nodded, jaw slack, ready for you to take what you needed.

You placed your hands on his shoulders for leverage and bounced yourself up and down his length. Your whines and moans echoed through the empty feel with each thrust of his hips meeting yours. The sound of you pleasure made music with your skin slapping against his. Hot, wet sounds and the sound of his voice, whispering praises were muffled in your head by the overwhelming sensation of it all.

Every movement. Every kiss. Everything - was so in sync.

You were one.

Your entire body shook. He was deep in your core and when your orgasm began to build in the pit of your stomach you feel your soul and his levitate from your bodies.

You tightened your legs around his body and pulled him closer.

Andy winced when your teeth sunk into his shoulder, "Fuck," hr groaned and pulled you towards him.

You came on his cock, thighs shaking and nails digging down his back.

Andy felt himself close to coming undone as well and grabbed your hips, pulling you all the way down on his shaft and came as deep as he could into your pussy.

Sweaty, sticky messes - but neither of you dared to move so much as an inch after you came. You just held each other until your heart rate returned to normal.

Slowly, his lips began to press little kisses along your shoulder. Every worry or stress you'd had before this session seemed a million miles away from your tangled limbs and lazy kisses.

--

also! i know in the teasers we've seen an angry bby andy, but here is a zen approach to andy lmfao! hope y'all like it!

--

mini tags (idk who wants to be tagged in any andy stuff so pls lmk if you'd like to be removed or added):

@dhampiravidi @blakescoven @angelicmichael @lady-jane-revisited @xavierplympton @ritualmichael @wroteclassicaly @feralthoughtdump @desertsunflower00 @ferndolan @quillanpie @dark-mei-rose

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Onions Among the Roses

“What in the world do two completely different plants have to do with this?”

“... ‘Onions’ can only make you stronger--so do not be ashamed to cut them.”

Yes, that is apparently a real thing that people do.

***Spoilers for Riddle’s childhood, Ghost Marriage Riddle’s home screen lines, and chapter 1 of the main story!***

***CONTENT WARNING: this piece mentions a dysfunctional family and emotional abuse!***

Imagine this...

The stillness of the kitchen was near stifling. Quiet, save for the sounds of ingredients being prepared for plating--the soft gurgle of simmering water, the methodical cut of knives against a wooden board or vegetable flesh.

Riddle sucked in a breath through his teeth, careful to not breathe in the noxious fumes of his half-cut onion. Instead, the oppressive atmosphere slipped in, and he almost gagged.

Small talk, he suggested to himself, make some small talk to drive this horridness away.

“So,” the Heartslabyul dorm leader began, trying to sound casual, “how are you finding the Master Chef course to be so far, Silver?”

“It has been a fascinating experience. I am pleased with the progress that I am making.” He spoke seriously as he whittled away at a potato, forming one continuous ribbon of skin. His iridescent eyes beheld a subtle glow to them--thoughtful. “Father has been pleased as well. He praised the Chicken with Tomato Sauce that I prepared last night.”

Riddle’s knife froze midair. “Your father has visited Night Raven College?”

“Well, more or less,” Silver confessed with a shrug. “He’s always around, always keeping an eye on me, some way or another.”

“I... I see.” Riddle’s eyes turned slightly downcast. “I have not yet had the honor of presenting my cooking to anyone, let alone my father.”

“I’m sure that he would love your food.” Silver reassured him. He set down his neatly peeled potato and started on a new one, the blade of his knife pressed firmly against the grain.

“I’m not so certain,” the redhead replied, a hint of bitterness in his tone. He brought his knife down, cleaving slices from his onion’s bulbous body. “I am not particularly close to either one of my parents. They are not intimate with one another, either.”

Riddle remembered them well: long afternoons and evenings, stretching into bouts of silence, punctured only by the clinking of silverware. His mother and father staring into their own dishes, refusing to address one another. A ‘dessert’ placed before him, tasting of limp cardboard and sadness.

No smiles or joy to be had.

“A Rosehearts family meal is not one you would wish to be invited to,” he declared with the shake of his head.

“Oh.” Silver’s hands came to a stop, his potato peel dangling precariously by his hip. “I’m sorry to hear that, Riddle.”

“Don’t be,” he insisted--a bit too quickly, perhaps. “I may not enjoy it, but I have come to accept it for what it is: my reality. I must hold my head high and continue to advance, regardless of that.”

“Your dedication is admirable,” Silver nodded stiffly, “but even if it is your reality, that does it does not make the blows you’ve been dealt any less painful. Wounds of the body and wounds of the heart can hurt equally.”

“... I suppose so.” Again and again, Riddle’s knife came down mercilessly upon the onion. His motions had gotten smoother with time and repetition, but his dices were still not even in size.

They settled back into silence, each boy tending to their own mise en place. Simmering. Chopping. Discomfort seeped in and filled the space between them.

Silver cleared his throat. “... How are you finding the Master Chef course?”

“Ah... The instruction has been very informative, but I fear I still have a long way to go when it comes to putting lecture material to practice.” Riddle eyed Silver’s knife. “You seem to be quite skilled in some regards already.”

“Swordplay is my specialty,” he replied. “I have been training since I was young. The same goes for Sebek.”

“Practical skills will serve you well.” Riddle flinched as the odor of onions tickled his nostrils. He sucked in another breath through his teeth.

He had once thought of wielding a whisk or a spatula, of whipping cream and flipping patties. He had wanted to make mud pies and set up a lemonade stand. Dreamt of colors and textures and shapes and flavors. To mold them with his own hands, to taste them with his own tongue.

“The only things you need to worry about are your grades--your grades, and following the rules,” his mother had told him, plucking the butter knife out of his hands. Over and over and over. “Go back to your books.”

His dreams laid in shards upon the floor.

“I’ve had a very privileged, but sheltered, upbringing,” Riddle said with a weak laugh, “so I am afraid that when it comes to hands-on exercises such as this... I may very well underperform.”

“It’s fine. No one is perfect at everything.”

“I must be.”

Silver cast his classmate a puzzled look. 

“I must,” Riddle repeated, tightening his grip on the handle of his knife, “if I wish to live independently. I cannot always rely on Trey to prepare tea, or Che’nya to yank me outdoors.”

“Riddle...”

How mad his mother had been when she had discovered him missing, when she had discovered the sugar dusting his lips. The strawberry tart had tasted sweet, yet fleeting. She had screeched like a banshee, forbidden him from playing with the other children ever again.

And how livid she had been when he had confronted her over winter break.

“You are my son. You are a Rosehearts. You will not defy me--you will not defy the rules!” she had roared. “Who has been planting these poisonous thoughts in your mind? I want to speak to them!!”

He inhaled shakily and shoved the memories of her shouting out of his mind.

“I need to start making strides on my own--and this is the first step towards that. I cannot allow myself to fail, no matter what.” The redhead pressed the tip of his blade into the onion--the hand curled atop the vegetable, trembling. His expression, solemn.

Silver set down his knife and potato, briskly walked over to Riddle’s workspace, and grasped his wrists. “Stop. You’re shaking all over. It’s not safe to cut it like that.”

“But the onion--”

“Forget the onion. Take a bre--” Silver came to a full pause when he saw Riddle’s face. “... You’re crying.”

And so he was.

Fat tears rolled down his face, his cheeks bloated and rosy. The Heartslabyul dorm leader shook, furiously rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hands. He sniffled loudly, but managed to choke something semi-comprehendible out.

“Th-The onions must be making my eyes water.”

“Of course. Let me get you a towel.”

It took only a few moments for Silver to retrieve a warm, wet cloth. He offered it to Riddle, who immediately pressed the cloth to his eyes.

“I’m... I’m sorry. You shouldn’t see me in such a pathetic state.”

“As I have said before, you are fine,” Silver said patiently. “No man is able to take down a beast by himself. It takes the backing of an entire village to ensure that he is prepared for his quest.”

“But crying at my age... It is unfitting, especially for a dorm leader.”

“Falling and losing your footing are all normal in the learning process. I stumbled a lot as well when I was training with the sword. What matters is that you are able to pick yourself up afterwards. Never losing sight of your goal.”

Silver folded his arms. “To be both the best student, and the best chef. To gain independence for yourself. That is why you fight, and why you shed your tears.”

Riddle slowly lowered the towel from his eyes. His wet gaze met Silver’s. “Are tears truly something to be proud of?”

"... There are many roses in the Valley of Thorns. And, sometimes, onions are planted alongside them. It is said that when they are grouped together, onions can enhance the fragrant aroma of roses." 

“What in the world do two completely different plants have to do with this?”

"... 'Onions' can only make you stronger--so do not be ashamed to cut them.” Silver plucked a fresh bulb from a basket and handed it to his peer. “Rest, and reflect on it. When you are ready, you can return to your ingredients.”

He turned and started to walk back to his own work station, but paused midstride.

“Riddle.”

“Yes?”

“You should come over sometime, and join us for a meal. Fath...” Silver caught himself and rushed to correct his phrasing. “Ah, I mean... you should come over to Diasomnia. Malleus-sama and Lilia-sama would be happy to host you.”

Riddle gave the smallest of smiles. “I would like that very much.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Tedious Joys - Chapter 8 - END

- Ao3 link -

“You’re not going to like what we’ve decided,” Lao Nie said.

Lan Qiren could have guessed that from the way that the other man had marched into the room and promptly used Lan Qiren’s thigh as a pillow, primarily, Lan Qiren suspected, because he didn’t want to have to look Lan Qiren in the face.

It was a common tactic of his these days. The Nie clan had always been inclined towards tactile behavior and a certain lack of personal boundaries – personal information was too much to share, but apparently bodies were free game – and Lao Nie had very quickly transitioned from embarrassment to taking advantage of his newfound dependency on regular physical contact with Lan Qiren. Much to Lan Qiren’s relief, they had managed, with some experimenting and considerable effort on all parts involved, for Lao Nie to form a bond directly with the jade pendant. Now, as long as he carried the pendant, he was able to be by himself for a shichen or so without experiencing any degradation in his mental state – and that, in turn, enabled them both to separate and allowed them both some measure of privacy.

Unfortunately, after that shichen was over, Lao Nie would begin to become irritable and irrational again, his eyes slowly becoming bloodshot as the rage and resentful energy contained now wholly within him, rather than in the jade – in Jiwei, rather – began to need to be excised. Exercise and cultivation with a heavy training saber helped slow the effects, as did Lan Qiren’s musical efforts to calm and clear his mind, but Lao Nie’s cultivation was simply too high for it to last for very long. It was as if half his meridians had vanished overnight and yet he continued to cultivate as he did before; it was as if his dominant arm had been abruptly cut off, and yet he instinctively continued to try to do everything he previously could. He needed his saber to complete even a standard circulation of his qi, and short of suppressing his spiritual energy entirely (another experiment that met with some limited success, getting them another two shichen of time apart if they really needed it, but which was not a long-term solution given the unfortunate side effects), he had to have access to it.

Currently, that access was through Lan Qiren.

“If you’re warning me in advance, I’m quite certain that I won’t like it,” he said mildly, continuing to play uninterrupted. He wasn’t cultivating anything at the moment – the piece he was working on was actually a refinement of the music he’d inadvertently created in his grief at Cangse Sanren’s death, the one that had made his normally very stable nephews burst into tears, and he didn’t want to add spiritual energy to it until he’d worked out exactly how he wanted it to go. He reached an appropriate stopping place, noted down a few revisions to the score, and put his guqin aside. “You should tell me about it regardless.”

Lao Nie exhaled. “Well, good news first – the smiths have finally finished conferring and they’ve concluded that they believe it’s possible to try reforging Jiwei, so they’re willing to give it a try.”

“Good,” Lan Qiren said. He hadn’t really understood the spiritual weaponsmiths’ reluctance on the subject, but he respected their expertise as craftsmen, just as they respected his as a musician. “Once the saber has been remade, I can reestablish the resonance between them and, in theory, Jiwei should be able to use that pathway to return - and with greater ease, as she would be returning to her more familiar self.”

“Not that easy, unfortunately,” Lao Nie said regretfully. “Jiwei was shattered. To remake the blade, they will need to – for want of a better explanation – melt her down and start entirely afresh. It will be like having a wholly different saber, albeit with the same metal that she’s used to.”

Lan Qiren frowned.

“There, you see the issue. If it’s a new saber, the familiarity will be absent. We will need to work on reestablishing the resonance the way we did with the pendant, and that means –”

“Slowly.” Lan Qiren’s frown deepened. It had taken him years to establish that initial resonance, and knowing how it was done could only reduce the process by so much. “That is indeed a problem. I cannot stay here as long as that would take. In all truth, I am surprised that I have not already been summoned back by my sect…”

“Oh, you have,” Lao Nie said cheerfully. “A-Jue burned the letters and told the messengers to fuck off.”

Lan Qiren’s jaw dropped. “He did what?!”

“Did we not say? You’ve officially been kidnapped! Well, no, really it’s more of a hostage exchange situation, since they have A-Sang with them…oh, don’t look so horrified, Qiren,” Lao Nie said, starting to laugh. “Your sect elders have indicated that no offense was taken, under the circumstances.”

“Circumstances?!” Lan Qiren spluttered a little. “You’re not serious! What circumstances could justify one sect kidnapping another sect’s sect leader, acting or otherwise?!”

Lao Nie stopped laughing, the sound cutting off as if he’d been choked. “Yes, well,” he said, closing his eyes. “That’s the part you’re really not going to like.”

Lan Qiren determinedly prodded at Lao Nie’s shoulder until the other man, grumbling, sat up and took a proper seat so that they could have this discussion face-to-face. Their knees remained touching, which was good enough, and about all that the scoundrel deserved at the moment.

“Explain,” Lan Qiren ordered, and Lao Nie dipped his head into a nod.

“There are several relevant points,” he said crisply, dropping into the familiar pattern of a report. “First, Hanhan has clearly decided that he wants me dead –”

“Must you?” Lan Qiren interjected, even though he had not meant to interrupt.

“Oh, I must.” Lao Nie’s eyes were flinty. “He decided that if he couldn’t have me – and no one said he couldn’t, except his own paranoia – that if he couldn’t, no one could, and I’m not about to forgive him for that, don’t worry. But he’s still my Hanhan, my A-Han, underneath all his madness, and for my own sake, I’m not going to let anyone, whether him or me, forget it. No matter how necessary, some things have to hurt, and to their fullest extent...However, that’s not what’s relevant now. May I continue?”

Lan Qiren nodded.

“He wants me dead,” Lao Nie said, resuming his narrative. “Now that he tried once, he may try again, and I currently lack the capability to defend myself – the doctors, and you, have all agreed that I should avoid any excessive use of qi, and fighting a battle with a saber that isn’t Jiwei is a recipe for disaster in the best of times. I can’t exactly swing the pendant around, can I? Moreover, it may take years for us to establish the resonance, re-transfer Jiwei, and for me to re-familiarize myself with the new saber.”

Lan Qiren did not like the way this was going.

“There’s also the matter that I can’t be without physical contact with you for extended periods of time, and you of course have your responsibility to your sect,” Lao Nie continued. “Kidnapping you is, at best, a temporary fix. We will need something more permanent, and your sect elders have already indicated that they won’t let you marry out until your nephews are grown – and obviously we can’t wait that long, even assuming you’d want to marry me.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth.

“Don’t say that you’d be willing to make the sacrifice to marry me, because even if you would, I wouldn’t. Putting aside the fact that you wouldn’t be happy leaving the Cloud Recesses and as much as I adore you, having been married before, I’m quite certain that I only want to marry my lovers, thank you.”

Lan Qiren had, in fact, been about to make an offer just like that, but he kept his mouth shut. They could discuss it at length at a later point.

“In short, the best solution to all of these problems, therefore, appears to be to allow events to play out as Hanhan would have wanted: for me to die.”

“You cannot be serious!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, abruptly furious. “After all the effort we put into saving your life, you would just throw it away?”

Lao Nie held up his hands. “Forgive me, I spoke unwisely – ‘do not take your words lightly’, right?”

Lan Qiren was usually very easily distracted by the mention of the Lan sect rules, but he resisted the temptation and glared.

“I didn’t mean I’d actually die,” Lao Nie said, and Lan Qiren’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Only that that would be the story we put out to the world. The process has already begun – that’s why your sect elders aren’t kicking up a fit about A-Jue being so rude to them about refusing to return you.”

“They think he’s in mourning,” Lan Qiren realized. “Whether actual, or merely preemptive.”

He could see how it might appear that way: Nie Mingjue showing up late in the evening, depositing a shaken and terrified Nie Huaisang, using up all the medical supplies in Lan Qiren’s personal possession, and then asking Lan Qiren to return home with him…

Due to Lan Qiren’s friendship with Lao Nie, Nie Mingjue had grown up especially close to the Lan sect; Lan Qiren had been his teacher, and in the end he was only fifteen, even if most people didn’t know that. Even in a world where Lao Nie could not have been saved, he might have refused to let Lan Qiren go home so quickly, seeking comfort from the sole familial authority, however informally constituted, that he had remaining.

“But Lao Nie,” Lan Qiren said slowly. “If you are supposedly dead, then Mingjue will need to become sect leader.”

Lao Nie grimaced, but nodded.

He’d been right about one thing, at least: Lan Qiren did not like what the Nie sect had decided.

He didn’t like it one bit.

“You know what that will do to him,” he said. He himself knew it better than anyone.

“I do,” Lao Nie confirmed, looking pained. “But it’s the best out of a short list of very bad options. If I stay on as sect leader in my current state, someone will kill me – probably Hanhan, but maybe someone else, one of the many small sects that have ambitions of taking the Nie sect’s place – and if that happens, A-Jue will have to become sect leader in truth, without my support. At least this way, I can act as an advisor, aid him with paperwork…that sort of thing.”

As much as Lan Qiren would have liked to argue, he didn’t have a good rebuttal to that.

Lao Nie’s position within the Nie sect was as secure as anything, and the Nie sect’s position as a Great Sect was nearly as unshakable, but there were always smaller sects looking to see whether that could change. If he were known to be so critically weakened...Wen Ruohan might not even need to kill him personally. He’d just need to wait.

And the rest was true, too. There were many things Lao Nie could do from a distance - his month at the Lan sect had shown that much - and having someone reliable to turn to for advice and hard choices was the ideal sort of transition for a new sect leader.

Still, the sect conferences alone would be horrifying, and those Lao Nie would not be able to aid Nie Mingjue with, even if he could help with all the rest.

He hated it.

But he couldn’t argue against it.

“Moreover, without the bulk of the responsibilities of sect leader on my shoulders, I’ll have more opportunity to focus on healing.”

That was true as well. Lao Nie had been hurt very deeply by Jiwei’s destruction. His cultivation had fallen, his usual cultivation pathway denied to him, his trust in his own mental well-being betrayed…in an ideal world, Lan Qiren would recommend seclusion for a few months, maybe even a year, for him to focus on reestablishing his connection with himself, re-centering his foundation so that he could climb up once more. But for a sect leader, that was impossible.

“Very well,” Lan Qiren said, although he made sure by his tone to make clear how much he disapproved. “I understand the basis for your decision.”

“I thought you might.”

“There’s only one flaw I see with your plan.”

“Oh?”

Lan Qiren folded his hands together in front of him. “You still need me, don’t you? Even with the excuse of mourning, Nie Mingjue can only request my presence for so long before the demands of my sect become paramount over their respect for his filial piety and grief.”

“Oh, we’ll let you go back eventually,” Lao Nie said with a shrug. “And I’d go with you.”

Lan Qiren had been expecting that. “And how exactly do you intend to keep the story of your death intact if you’re living with me at the Cloud Recesses? Even if we increase your tolerance such that you can stay home at all times, my home is often visited by my students, including those from other sects – and while there may be a rule against talking behind people’s backs, it is one of the most commonly broken.”

Lao Nie winced in a way that suggested both that he had thought of an answer to that question and also that Lan Qiren was going to hate it.

“Whatever you say, I cannot dislike it more than A-Jue becoming sect leader at fifteen,” Lan Qiren pointed out.

“I don’t know about that,” Lao Nie said. “Given that to this day you despise the smell of gentians.”

Lan Qiren’s brain came to an abrupt halt.

“Absolutely not,” he said.

“Qiren…”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s a good solution,” Lao Nie argued. “No one in your sect goes to that house – most of them don’t even know it exists! It’s within a short walking distance of your home, protected by arrays to enhance silence and protect privacy…”

“I am not locking you in He Kexin’s place!” Lan Qiren bellowed.

“You wouldn’t be locking me anywhere,” Lao Nie said, for once the reasonable and calm one in the face of Lan Qiren’s fury. “I would be going willingly, and I would be free to leave at any time. You’re not your brother, Qiren, and I’m not He Kexin – not least of which because I’m neither capable of nor interested in bearing two sons for you as a means of passing the time.” He paused, tilting his head to the side. “A bit of a pity, that. I’m sure they’d be cute.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes at him, although the reassurance and humor had helped douse the worst of his terror at the mere idea. Irritatingly, it was a good solution: he had made the trek to He Kexin’s home hundreds of times and no one had ever raised any questions. In the unlikely event that they did so now, he could claim he was merely tending to the garden to maintain it for his nephews; more likely, however, they would simply not notice – the path between the two locations was short and purposefully discrete.

“You’ll need someone to clean the place,” he pointed out. “Even He Kexin had servants, and if you don’t want anyone from the Lan sect finding out about it…”

“I have some servants that are loyal to me personally, and which are not Nie sect disciples,” Lao Nie said. “They can seek employment at the Cloud Recesses on the basis that they didn’t want to remain here after I’d gone – literally true, if you think about it in a certain light. Your sect would snatch them up in a heartbeat.”

They would, too, even without Lan Qiren interfering: properly trained servants who knew how to serve cultivators were a precious commodity that often had to be raised up from a young age or recruited with great caution from the ranks of rogue cultivators, and ones with the skills and experience that came from serving at another Great Sect were even more valued than most. And once they were part of the Cloud Recesses, there would be no difficulty in Lan Qiren adding the task of caring for He Kexin’s house to their list of duties.

“It’s a good plan,” he finally conceded, and Lao Nie sniggered.

“You look as though you’ve bitten into a lemon, Qiren. Did it hurt to say?”

“It hurt to think,” he retorted, and turned back to his guqin. “Will you visit my brother while you’re there? He might enjoy hearing your voice and knowing that you are close.”

Lao Nie had always refused in the past, and he shook his head now. “Not all of us are as forgiving as you, Qiren. Qingheng-jun made his choices.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“He makes them again every day,” Lao Nie disagreed. “He may have declared that he would stay in seclusion for the rest of his life to make amends, but that was his decision. He could break his oath and come out, do the right thing, but he doesn’t want to.”

It was an old argument, and an unproductive one. Lan Qiren shook his head, signaling that he would no longer engage.

He had other things to be concerned with, and would for some time. There was helping with Lao Nie’s recovery, creating the new resonance, playing calming music for him, keeping his secret; he would also need to help support Nie Mingjue as much as possible during his transition to sect leader, whether through correspondence and advice or through active intervention during the discussion conferences. He would need to manage his nephews, who he had taught so carefully not to lie, and yet they would need to learn to keep this secret, too.

Taking care of Lao Nie would also be an additional set of duties, on top of being sect leader and being a teacher and being himself, but Lan Qiren didn’t mind it.

It wouldn’t be so bad, actually, now that he thought of it without prejudice. To have someone close by to take tea with in the afternoons when his nephews were too busy and it wasn’t the right time of year for students, someone with whom he could speak on any range of subjects, including his occasional frustrations with his sect, stories about his students, the political troubles of the day – a friend close by, rather than at a distance. Someone who would probably encourage him to take more exercise than he usually did, to try things outside of his comfort zone, someone who would listen to his ideas on music or the rules without judgment, someone who would share his burdens and support him…it would be a little like having a wife, but without all the inconvenient aspects that he so thoroughly disliked.

“It’s not too bad, as such things go,” Lao Nie said, his thoughts clearly moving along a similar line as Lan Qiren’s. “Whatever the world thinks, I’ll be the first Nie sect leader to live to enjoy a retirement, however premature.”

This was true.

“I’ll miss my boys, of course,” Lao Nie added. “But I’ll write, and you can invite A-Sang to your lectures when he’s old enough. A-Jue can come visit you, sect leader to sect leader…I wouldn’t be the first father to only see his children a few times a year.”

“Nie Huaisang will probably fail my classes,” Lan Qiren said, having been acquainted with the individual in question for some time now. A clever child, even very clever, but he was also lazy, hated reciting facts, and was as stubborn as a rock – as stubborn as his father. “You’ll probably have the joy of him for several summers in a row.”

Lao Nie smiled.  

“Well, I can’t say this was what I expected when I wrote to you for help all those years ago,” he joked, leaning down and playing with the jade token that now hung from his belt rather than Lan Qiren’s. Wen Ruohan would probably have a fit if he ever saw it – indeed, Lan Qiren was already looking forward to that day in the future, however distant, where Lao Nie would regain his saber and his former strength and re-emerge to make his feelings on the subject of Wen Ruohan’s actions clear. “But I’m still glad you came.”

“As am I, my friend,” Lan Qiren said. “As am I.”