#...hard conversations after difficult emotions last night. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedroscurls · 16 days ago

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training partners (pt. 8)

summary: you try to ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach, but hugh knows that you're acting differently after your conversation with jack. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: angst, implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), protective!hugh (and also protective!ryan and protective!shawn), mentions of toxic relationship - verbal abuse, reader has a panic attack, jack's an asshole (but no surprise there), no use of y/n. word count: 3k a/n: hope ya'll enjoyed this part - i know it's a big difference from the previous chapters as we are now getting into the angsty aspects of this story. also - please know that you're worthy, you're enough 🫶 as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

“Baby?” Hugh whispers, his arm draped over the back of your chair. You’re both out to dinner with Ryan and Shawn. He’s noticed that in the last week since your conversation with Jack, that your mind has been drifting more frequently. He can tell there’s been a drastic change in the way you’ve been acting and he feels like you’re slowly pulling away. Hugh tries to help, tries to reassure you, but he knows that it doesn’t do much to ease your mind.

Hugh finds it hard to focus this last week when all he can think about is you, but it makes for a very good performance when he’s on set. He can channel all his inner frustrations and anger that he’s been feeling towards Jack in his role as Logan. Hugh doesn’t know how to make things better, how to make things go back to normal.

When you smile, it doesn’t reach your eyes. When you laugh, it’s quiet. It’s like he can see the light beginning to dim in you and he knows exactly why.

Even on set, he (and the rest of the cast and crew) can tell there’s been a shift in you. You would usually strike a conversation with just about anyone, but since the conversation with Jack, you’ve been keeping to yourself, just capturing the behind-the-scenes moments.

When you turn slightly to look up at Hugh, you find that your mind has drifted again. You’ve tried to block out the things that Jack has said in the conversation you had with him last week, try to remind yourself that he no longer has this much control over you, but it’s hard. It’s fucking difficult. There are still some parts of the conversation that you haven’t even told Hugh because you know that if you do, he’d get angry. Livid.

And you don’t want that. You don’t need to burden Hugh with that, with Jack.

It feels like you’re back at square one. You don’t feel like yourself. You don’t feel like you deserve Hugh – Jack’s words replay over and over in your mind and you can’t escape it. Even despite Hugh doing his best to make sure that you’re okay, to make sure that you know how much he loves you, you can’t help the thoughts that linger.

“Yeah?” you finally respond, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sorry. Did I space out again?”

Hugh nods, leaning in to whisper into your ear. “You sure you don’t wanna go back to the hotel? Call it an early night?”

“I’m okay, Hugh” you reassure him, reaching out to rest a hand on his thigh. “I promise.”

Hugh doesn’t want to push you or this subject further, so he nods in response and leans in to kiss your temple. “Well, if you change your mind, you let me know, okay? Shawn and Ryan will understand.”

You respond with a gentle kiss on his cheek, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. You can see the concern in his eyes, can see the way he’s trying to search for any uncertainty in your own. You feel a sudden wave of emotions hit you, tears beginning to pool at your eyes at the sight of him. You love him, so fucking much, so why can’t you forget what Jack said?

“I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back,” you tell him, pulling away to stand up when you feel your tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. You excuse yourself from the table and walk down the hallway to the bathroom.

Hugh sighs after you and then turns his attention back to Shawn and Ryan, grabbing his drink and lifting it to his lips.

“Everything okay?” Shawn asks.

Hugh shrugs. “I hope so.”

“She has seem a bit… Sad this last week,” Ryan points out. “What did you do?” he teases, trying to lighten the mood.

Hugh shakes his head. “Her ex-boyfriend called her last week and she–” he sighs. “Well, that relationship was just very toxic from what she’s told me.”

Ryan and Shawn both let out a quiet sigh, eyes filled with concern and understanding. “What can we do to help?”

“Not sure there is anything that I can even do to help,” Hugh admits. “She says she’s fine, that things are okay, but I can’t help but feel like she’s only saying that to make sure I’m not worried.”

“Does she need a break?” Shawn asks. “She can take the rest of the week off if she wants and–”

“No,” Hugh interrupts. “She told me that he’s actually here and I’d feel more comfortable if she was with us, with me…” he sighs. “Does that make me seem too overprotective? I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before and I just don’t want to come across as…” Hugh shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“That why you’ve been acting a little bit more broody and angry when we’ve been filming?” Ryan asks.

“Gotta let out some of the frustration somehow,” Hugh answers.

“Well, I’m sure that having you here is enough,” Shawn says. “Things will work itself out, Hugh.”

“I know, mate,” Hugh sighs. “But I just feel like her light’s dimming,” he admits. “And I don’t know how to help her.”

“Just be there for her,” Ryan says. “Easier said than done and it might seem like you need to be doing more, but just being there for her–” he nods. “She’ll come back around.”

“I just love her, y’know,” Hugh says with a sigh.

“Oh, we know,” Ryan chuckles.

Hugh smiles at that. “Thanks for letting me talk,” he says. “Guess I needed to talk about it somehow.”

—

You’re walking back towards the table when you see him, when you see Jack. He doesn’t see you, but he’s got an arm wrapped around another woman. You feel a pounding in your chest, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You lean back against the wall, trying to catch your breath but it feels like you can’t. You shut your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing, to focus on calming down, but all you can think about are the things that Jack has said in the past.

It’s your fault. You make me this way.

You’re crazy and delusional. It’s all in your head.

You’re just convenient for me, that’s all you are.

You’re worthless.

A sense of dread washes over you and your breath comes in short pants. The walls feel like its closing in on you and tears begin to stroll down your cheeks.

You and Hugh Jackman? Ha! Give him some time. He’ll see what I saw.

Hugh.

You need to get to him, to be near him. When you open your eyes, you see Jack staring straight at you with a sinister smirk on his lips. The recognition flashes across his features and he’s about to walk towards you when another man from the corner of his eye catches his attention.

He steps back and then turns his back to you, focusing back to the woman that he had come here with.

You’re frozen in the hallway, feet glued to the floor as your hands begin to tremble. You’re still short of breath, but when you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder, it suddenly takes you out of the panic attack and you step back immediately. Your eyes scan the person in front of you, tears streaked down your cheeks, and chest heaving rapidly.

“Hey, hey,” he says quietly.

Ryan.

“What’s going on?” You try to focus on Ryan’s voice, but it doesn’t help. You glance over his shoulder to see Jack still at the bar.

“I–” you gasp quietly. “I think I would like to go back to the hotel now.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Can you– Can you walk?”

“He’s here,” you blurt out. “He’s here and he knows I’m here and I can’t– Hugh can’t–”

“Who’s here?” Ryan asks, turning around to look out at the restaurant. No one looks familiar to him, but then he remembers what Hugh had mentioned earlier. “Is it your ex? Hugh told us and–”

You nod rapidly, hands reaching out to grip his shirt. “Ryan…”

“Okay, okay,” he says, taking your hands and holding it tightly. Firmly. Reassuringly. “Let’s get you back to the table. We don’t have to let Hugh know, but we gotta get back there.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “You probably need to go to the bathroom and I’m just– I’m just bothering you and–”

“No, no,” Ryan says softly. “It’s okay. I’m okay. Let’s go.” Ryan then wraps a protective arm around your shoulders, leading you back towards the table in the corner of the restaurant. You glance off to the side to see Jack’s eyes lingering on your frame, winking in your direction.

Ryan catches your gaze and takes note of the other man, immediately tightening his jaw. He knows that if Hugh is aware of Jack being here that it wouldn’t end nicely.

Once back at the table, Hugh immediately stands up, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “What happened?”

“We should go,” Ryan says, avoiding the question. “We should go now.”

Hugh takes you into his arms, his strong arms wrapping around your frame. Once he does, you break down against his chest. You feel like you can finally take a breath, can feel the panic and dread slowly dissipate. You feel safe. In his arms, you feel safe.

“Okay, can you guys close out and we’ll meet you outside?” Hugh asks, glancing over at Ryan.

“Yeah, we got this. Go and grab the car.” Shawn says, waving down a waitress to grab the check.

You pull back to look up at Hugh, seeing the concern written all over his face. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly. “I’m sorry I ruined dinner. I didn’t mean to and I just–” you feel your breath catch in your throat.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Hugh says quietly. “You didn’t ruin dinner, baby. You don’t even have to apologize.”

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, wiping your tears away and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

You nod and then follow him out the restaurant. You look back at the bar and don’t see Jack, letting out a sigh of relief. Once outside, Hugh walks over to the valet and lets the younger man know that they’re ready to leave. After a few minutes, Shawn and Ryan join the both of you outside, waiting for the car to be pulled up to the front.

Until you hear his voice.

“Wow, I’m such a huge fan!” Jack grins, walking up to you and Hugh. “I’m actually a big fan of all of you.”

“Hey, mate, not tonight, okay?” Hugh says politely, having no idea who this man was.

Ryan remembers the look on your face from earlier and so he steps in and rests a hand on the man’s shoulder, leading him away from Hugh and from you. “Hey, man. Thank you. Do you want a picture?”

Jack tightens his jaw, but his smile still remains on his lips. “That’d be great!” he feigns interest, taking his phone out and lifting it in the air to take a selfie with Ryan. Once the picture was taken, the car and valet pulls up to the front and Hugh opens the door for you to climb in.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart,” Jack says, winking in your direction.

Hugh tightens his jaw and looks down at you, seeing the way you freeze up. He glances over at Jack and then over at Ryan who simply shakes his head. He puts two and two together and suddenly, Hugh turns around and approaches Jack. Hugh’s much taller, much larger, but Jack’s never been a man to be intimidated by another. So, he steps up to Hugh, a smirk remaining on his lips.

“Excuse me?” Hugh says, hands curling into fists. “What did you just say?”

“I think I was talking to the woman, not you.”

“Yeah?” Hugh replies. “Well, I think I’m talking to you right now.”

“Hugh…” you call out, shaking your head. “Baby, please. Can we just go?”

Jack chuckles and leans up to whisper quietly enough so that Hugh’s the only one who can hear what he’s about to say. “Tell me, Hugh… She still feel real good around you? I mean, she’s always been so tight but–”

Hugh growls lowly and grabs the other man by the lapel of his jacket, his grip tight. “Stay away from her, y’hear me?”

“Or what?” Jack grins.

“You’ll find out.”

Ryan and Shawn step in to pull Hugh away, trying to de-escalate the situation before anyone can take a picture or video of this interaction.

“Hugh,” Ryan says. “We gotta go, come on. She wants to go.”

Hugh stares at Jack with a tightened jaw, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t seem to hear Ryan as he holds Jack’s intense gaze, hand still holding a firm grip on his jacket.

“Hugh,” Shawn says, gently taking Hugh’s hand away. “This won’t look good, buddy. Ryan’s right. We have to leave now.”

Hugh tightens his jaw and releases his hold on Jack, shoving him away in the process. “If you try to contact her or try to see her–”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Jack interrupts. Then, he looks over at you and winks, seeing the way you immediately climb into the car.

Hugh’s about to take another step forward when Ryan and Shawn hold him back and turn him around. “He’s not worth it, Hugh. He’s just a kid. Let’s go.”

Hugh shrugs their hands off of him and climbs into the car, immediately sliding in next to you. You’re staring out the window, tears falling from your cheeks. Hugh wants to reach out for you, but instead chooses not to. He’s still so upset and he needs to calm down before he can try to talk to you.

Ryan and Shawn climb into the car and you all begin making your way back to the hotel. You’re sniffling, but you try to stifle it, try to keep quiet so you don’t have to bother the rest of the guys with how you’re feeling. You already feel bad that you’ve ruined dinner and that you’re the reason why Hugh almost got into a fight.

It’s always because of you. You. You.

Once at the hotel, you climb out and still give Shawn and Ryan a hug. They both hold on just a bit longer before they look down at you, eyes filled with so much concern.

“You’re okay,” Shawn reassures you. “We got you.”

Ryan nods in agreement. “Whatever you need, you give us a call, okay?”

You smile and nod, turning back to see Hugh with his hands in his pockets. You can tell he’s still fuming, can tell that he’s still thinking about his interaction with Jack. He leads you to the elevators and back to the hotel room without a word, but once inside, Hugh turns to you and wraps his arms around you tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” Hugh whispers, face burying into the crook of your neck.

“Why are you sorry?” you ask, slowly wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You can feel the weight being lifted off your chest, can feel yourself finally begin to relax. “I’m sorry… I should have been more aware of my surroundings. I should have known that maybe he could have been there. I should have–”

Hugh shakes his head and pulls back to look down at you. “We’re gonna fix this, okay? We’re gonna make this better. I’m gonna make this better.”

“I know, baby…” you reply quietly. “I just–” you clear your throat. “I don’t know how to snap out of this. I promise I’m trying not to let him control me, but… It’s just hard. I saw him earlier when I was coming back from the bathroom and I just couldn’t move… I couldn’t catch my breath, my body was trembling, but all I wanted was you.”

“I’m right here, baby,” Hugh reassures you, hand moving up to cup your cheek. “I’m right here.”

You nod, tears stinging your eyes. “I just don’t want to burden you with things from my past…”

“You won’t, you aren’t. I love you so much,” Hugh whispers. “And I want to know everything, if you’ll let me.”

“But what if–”

“I won’t.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say…”

“I’ve got a feeling,” he smiles softly. “Nothing about your past will change the way I feel about you.”

“It’s just going to show you how weak of a person I am, how I couldn’t even stand up for myself and…” you breath hitches.

“Your relationship with Jack isn’t a reflection of you as a person,” Hugh says quietly. “You’re strong. You’re passionate. You’re kind…” he leans in and brushes his nose with yours. “And Jack’s an asshole who saw those traits as a way to manipulate you.”

“Hugh…” You bite your lower lip, looking into his eyes.

“And if I see him again, I’m going to fucking kick his ass.” Hugh growls, voice low.

It shouldn’t have gotten you excited, but hearing him say those words and seeing the way he’s so protective of you… turns you on. You nod and play with the hair at his nape, resting your forehead against him. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, okay?”

Hugh sighs. “I just care about you so much, baby. I want to protect you from everything bad in this world, including that jackass.”

You snort, “I see what you did there.”

Hugh smiles. “I’m serious, baby.”

“You’re my safe place, Hugh,” you admit. “I hope you know that.”

Hugh bites his lower lip and nods, taking your words close to his heart. He pecks your lips and then shuts his eyes, wrapping his arms tighter around your frame. “I love you, baby. You’ll always be safe with me. I promise.”

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fanfic #real person fiction #rpf #real person fanfiction #real person fanfic #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x fem!reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #hugh jackman x you #story: training partners

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billwidoll · 5 months ago

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Why do you only call me when you're high?

It was a party night at Rafe's house, it was always a party at Rafe's house. He always had fun and drank to his heart's content, but when he woke up he was sorry for always hesitating with you. But he always did the same thing So you always forgave him when necessary

Rafe always loved you, that was a fact. But he had a problem with alcohol and drugs, so that always hampered your relationship. But this time you promised not to forgive any other The nonsense that Rafe did, it was time for him to be sure that he would lose you somehow.

"Rafe! Your girlfriend is here, at the party" Topper speaks loudly in Rafe's ear, because of the sound

"what? My baby is here! Where is she?" Rafe talks completely stoned

"no Rafe! You can't show up like that...she'll want to break up with you" Topper advises his friend, but Rafe wouldn't listen

"she loves me, okay? She would never abandon me" Rafe says in an almost serious tone after he really thought you would always give in to his love

Even though he knew about his existence at the party, Rafe continued drinking and smoking a lot and talking to girls who were interested in him. What Rafe was really waiting for was to see you even if that It was hard to believe

You were confused looking for your boyfriend until you saw him talking to a generic blonde

"Oh my God! Rafe? My boyfriend? Who I haven't seen in two days?" You speak sarcastically and disrupt Rafe and the blonde's conversation

"My beautiful princess, I was talking about you" Rafe says completely drunk and kissing you with hot drink breath

"Rafe! Don't you dare touch me! Where were you these last two days? Why didn't you answer the messages?"

You speak, drawing the attention of several people and Rafe ends up grabbing your arm, not so Strong and taking you to a more private place

"I already told you not to touch me!!" You say getting rid of him when you finally arrived at a calmer place

"I think you better not start your tantrum" Rafe says rolling his eyes at you

"tantrum? Rafe...I just want to ask you something" you say in an almost whisper and tired of putting up with all of this

"you can talk, but if you want to give your lecture..." Rafe was talking but you interrupt him

"you love me?" You ask looking deeply into Rafe's eyes.

"but what question is that? And of course I love you!" Rafe says smiling at the end and hugging you

"So if you love me, give up the drugs, the drinks and the parties and let's live a happy life!"

You say, still hugging him, but with every word you said, Rafe let go of you, it seemed like he didn't like your proposal.

"what? You want me to change my ways because of you? I'm sorry if I'm not prince charming"

Rafe speaks out and you raise your eyebrows, not believing what you were hearing.

"I don't want you to be a prince charming! I want you to be a boyfriend!" You speak shouting with tears in your eyes

"I'm sorry, princess! But that's how I am! And I'm not going to change my ways because of you"

Rafe says, shouting in your face, making you cry even more

"so what about this? Do you really want me to abandon you?" You say drying your tears

"we both know that won't happen" Rafe says in disbelief that you could abandon him

"okay...let's see" you say decide to never forgive Rafe again or at least get back with him, you would start a new life without him

Seven years later:

After several years later, Rafe Cameron's life became hell. He drank day and night, worked with a sullen face and had no friends left, they were all married and had children already Rafe He only had a bottle of whiskey in his hands. Rafe wanted to die, he wanted it so bad, but he needed to at least apologize to you seven years later

It was difficult, but Rafe managed to find the house where you lived and he was so happy but so sad and emotional at the same time, he needed to tell you so many things, he needed to see how you were, He needed to apologize to you

And so it was, Rafe found the beach house where you lived temporarily, after it was summer and it was also in Rafe's city so he had the opportunity

When Rafe got there, he saw that the house was flowery and very cheerful, whereas his house was gray and dark. Rafe was scared, he wanted so badly to let go of that fear But it was difficult. But even so, he would knock on your door and declare himself

Rafe approached his door and rang the doorbell, his hands shaking.

It took about 1 minute for you to open the door and when it opened. Rafe found himself with a child in his arms and you were hissing in confusion.

"I'm sorry...but can I help you?" You ask in the voice of an angel, when Rafe heard that voice he heard his heart beat again

"I guess...I only called you when I was high, didn't I?" Rafe says this humorless joke, but it made you remember perfectly who it was in front of you

"oh my god Rafe!" You say, hugging him even though you have the baby on your lap "come in, please" you say, making room at the door for him to enter

When Rafe walked in, he realized that the beach house was so beautiful and family-friendly, it would make him so happy

"It's beautiful here..." Rafe says, totally mesmerized by the place

"and...what do you think an architect's house would be like?" You say putting the baby in the crib and make Rafe surprised by your profession

"Did you become an architect?" Rafe asks, completely shocked by the information.

"yes! I learned about it at college and I'm still working in this field today" you say, sitting in a chair and giving Rafe a friendly smile

"and who is that cute little thing?" Rafe says referring to the drink you were holding

"that's my son Jonathan, he just turned 2" you say smiling, proud to remember that you had an adorable son

That was a knife in the gut for Rafe, he knew things would change, but it hurt. He just wanted to go back in time and fix everything

"he's beautiful" Rafe says this in almost a whisper, he was trying not to break down there

"But what about you Rafe? How's the biggest playboy on the Outer Banks doing?" You ask with a smile and a light chuckle from Rafe.

"I'm fine...I'm fine...I couldn't learn more about college, but I ended up becoming president of my father's company"

Rafe speaks without being proud of himself, he spoke quietly and with his head down. And you realized that so you decided to talk about someone else's life

"and Topper? I never saw him again" you say trying to change the tone of the conversation

"he... is in Canada, he got married and had twins..." Rafe speaks in a sad tone disguised as joy

"Do you still have contact with him?" You ask innocently and it hurts Rafe so much

"no...he abandoned me...because of drinking" Rafe says with tears in his eyes seeing that situation you approach him and hug him

"Rafe, what's going on?" You say still hugging him

"I just wish I could do everything differently! I just wish I would have listened to you and Topper!"

Rafe explodes with emotion and cries even more in your arms.

"Hey, calm down, okay?" You say trying to calm down, but it was difficult

"you don't understand...I'm a failure in my life and a failure!" Rafe finally speaks, looking into your eyes

"no! Rafe! Look at me, you're rich, beautiful, you have a splendid family"

You say, taking his face and gently running your hand over it.

"but I'm not happy!" Rafe shouts and you feel so bad for him in that moment, maybe... maybe you shouldn't have given up on him seven years ago

"And what do you want me to do Rafe?! If you're like this, it's not my fault" you shout crying back

"No! It's not your fault! That's my fault! I knew how to love..." Rafe shouts back and the only thing you think at that moment is kiss him, like you kissed him before

And that's what you did, you kissed him intensely, The kiss had fear, disgust, anger, surprise, happiness and sadness. But in the end there was peace...the connection between you and Rafe brought each other peace

"I love you, Rafe...But our story ended at that party"

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adventuringblind · 1 year ago

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Possessive

Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Dialouge: "You are ours and ours only."

Summary: Oscar gets possessive during a night out.

Warnings: downright Filthy smut, marking, dom/sub, double penatration,

Notes: This is part of my 1000 follower celebration

Masterlist

Neither Lando nor Oscar would say they are possessive men. They love each other and their girlfriend, and they know she loves them. It's very difficult, however, to remain neutral while watching another man flirt with her.

He started a conversation while she was dancing with Lily and Carmen during their post race celebrations. She'd politely tried to get away from him but the man is annoyingly persistent.

"Should we help her?"

"Can we do it without punching him is the real question."

"But it would be so satisfying if we did."

"Osc, you scoop the spiders up and take them outside. There is no way you can punch that guy."

The Australian whips around to face Lando. A smug look plastered on his face. "Wanna bet?"

Lando, with no alcohol in his system since he Despises the stuff, agrees. The Brit would soon come to learn never to challenge Oscar again.

The woman in question still looks highly unlikely comfortable and getting more agitated by the second. Relief, however, hits her as Oscar appears behind the man pursuing her and taps him on the shoulder.

"Pretty sure she wants to be left alone." His arms cross over his chest but he still looks as unassuming as ever.

Most people would assume Oscar doesn't know the definition of the word violence. She knows better, though. Her and Oscar had been together before Lando. If it's in the name of defense, he won't hesitate to swing.

"I don't see a boyfriend anywhere. Maybe you should go where you are wanted." The stupid man who can't take a hint seethes.

Oscar takes a step closer, invading the others space. "Seeing as I am one of two boyfriends she has, I think you should step away."

There is silence on the other end. Then a brutal look of disgust. "Well if she's used goods then you can have her, pal."

The look she hasn't seen for years only appears on Oscar for a second. The one that has is inner demons raging. The unflappable, sweet, gentle Oscar is seeing Red.

Only a second before the Aussies fist collides with the other man's jaw, sending him reeling backwards. He's always had a nasty right hook.

She says nothing as Oscar promptly takes her hand and guide her to the entrance. Lando trailing them from where he was watching. The Brit looks a mixture of terror and turned on.

The car ride is silent apart from the loud expressions passed between her and Lando and Oscar's fingers wandering occasionally. The last time he was like this neither of them could walk the next day.

The thing about Oscar, the incredibly calm and unfazed Australian, is that he takes all those emotions and puts them elsewhere. Into sex, specifically. Lando learned this the hard way. His teasing went one toe over the line. He ran out Oscar's patience in a series of events over the course of a week to test the limits.

So Oscar likes control more then he shows. It gives him an outlet, per say. He times and calculates and gets some kind of high off it. Plus it resets him to where he can take whatever shit people throw his way without losing his mind.

Oscar doesn't let go even after they are saftley back in their flat. Instead her body is slammed into wall of the entry way.

"Why don't you tell her what you said Lando. What got you into this mess." The voice he pulls out is the condescending one. The one that makes her knees weak.

"I said you wouldn't punch the guy."

"And if I proved you wrong?"

Lando swallows hard enough for her to hear it. Probably see it also, but her eyes are stuck staring at brown ones that are eating her alive.

"That I would do whatever you wanted tonight. No questions asked."

Lando screwing himself is not shocking. Now, Lando actually doing what he's told? That is even more shocking then when he got drunk. Only once before he decided he hated it for sure.

"Then I want you stripped and on the floor in the bedroom." Silently, the Birt pads away to do as told. Oscar loosens his hold on her body and give her some space. "Seriously though, are you okay? We won't do this if you were any kind if put off by that."

"And miss this opportunity? Absolutely not. If anything to sight of you actually punching somebody has me feral."

"Good. Then let's go find Lando."

Lando, to his credit, is following through. He just looks wicked sad about it.

"Lando? You alright love?"

"Doing what you're told is much less fun."

Oscar rolls his eyes at the pouting boy on the floor.

She was going to ask for instructions. But as she opens her mouth she finds there is no need. Oscar is dragging her to bed. Her clothes are litterally (and unfortunately) ripped from her body. The room is cold without layers, but it won't be for long.

Oscar's lips are everywhere. He kisses, sucks, licks, and bites every inch of skin on her body. Every peice of her knows the feeling of the Aussies warm lips. Every kiss leaves her tingly and every bite leaves her wanting.

"Lando, come here. I think people need to be reminded that she is ours. Would you like that baby? Do you want people to know you are ours and only ours?"

Her brain is too far gone to respond coherently. Lando has already got to work, claiming her where Oscar hasn't already. The Australians voice is gentle, but it's demanding. There is a need burried within it that says he needs people to know she's taken.

"I swear you're just too pretty. Everybody wants you. I'm tired of them not knowing you're already spoken for." Oscar is the next to shed his clothes. Lando's hands have gone from stagnant to touching her like she is the air he breathes. Both males are staking their claim on her tonight. A shared feeling of want for people to know she chose them passes between the two.

Mumbled pleads escape her. Some kind of contact where she's sensitive needs to happen or she might combust.

"Think you can take both of us in the same hole love?" Back to gentle. His need to care for her outweighed the need and desire to have her like this. It makes her agree so fast she gets dizzy from nodding her head so much.

Lando gets to be underneath her. His lips are still attached to her skin. It muffled the moans and tiny whines he's letting out as she sinks down onto him.

"Yiu know, Lando. That guy said our girl is used goods. What do you think? Do you agree with him?"

Lando detaches, his mouth agape. "I can barely get into her mate. I don't know how you're going to. Feels good to me."

"But aren't I used?" She whimpers.

Lando's hand reaches around her front to play with her clit. His large nimble fingers send shockwaves through her body.

"You are not 'used goods' baby." Lando says into her skin. His warm breath sticks to her shoulder. "We love you. We're keeping you. Fuck anyone who says shot like that."

To say she's gushing at this point is an understatement, despite that fact Oscar decideds lube is a smart idea. Now she's even more wet and sticky that she was with just her own self made lubricant.

Oscar takes it incredibly slow. To slow for her liking. But the second he's sliding into her, the friction with Lando, the stretch and positioning of everything. Yeah - it hurts.

Her teeth sink into Oscar's shoulder. Lando's hand is caressing her cheek and wiping away the stray tears that slip down the sides of her face.

It is ridiculous, really, the situation she's in right now. But she can't think as Oscar is cooing praises in her ear and Lando is meticulously puting his hands on her.

They spiral quickly after that. The tension that was in Oscar's shoulders releases as he is finally able to take what he needs. Lando has decended into a mess of moans and thrusting hips.

She is completely at their mercy. A mess of movment. The symphonic melodies of their voices fill the space of the bedroom. Hot breaths stick to her skin over the already present layer of sweat.

The ache in her bones and coil in her stomach rapidly approach a breaking point. She can't even warn them as everything in her snaps and leave her body a flailing mess. The two boys stutter and sink further into the mattress.

Then a silence. An amazing thread connecting all three bodies together.

They stay like that for the next ten minutes. Unmoving. Listening to the sounds of breathing and heartbeats.

"That was eventful."

"No kidding."

"Sorry if I was to rough."

All of them laugh. "Maybe you should apoligize to the guy at the club."

Oscar pulls out slowly, and then Lando lifts her gently off him. Then they actually collapse. Arms outstretched to hold each other close. "We need to clean up."

"We also need to look at your knuckles, Osc."

"I still can't believe you punched him."

Oscar rolls his eyes. "Well it ended well didn't it? I don't hear you complaining."

"Remind me to never challenge you again."

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stxrvel · 7 months ago

Text

the routine (4)

heeeey guys. this is a short one but i wanted to share something with you, since it's been a while! it's getting harder to write, but i found some peace of mind today so i wanted to give you this. hope u like this! love u all and hopefully see u next time. i promise it's gonna get better, just give me some time :(.

summary: trying to settle into life after what happened has proven to be just as difficult for both you and Azriel… pairing: azriel x fem!reader words: 1.5k warnings: still just angst.

part 1: the cliff

part 2: the house

part 3: the court

There was something bittersweet hanging around your house since that argument with your parents. It had been a week since you had returned and, sadly, things didn't feel as good as they used to. You didn't expect you all to be exactly the same either, you and your parents had been through specific times that wouldn't allow them to ever be the same again, especially when they were so reluctant for you to return to the Night Court. Even you didn't know if you would be completely ready to do so in the near future.

One good thing was that, during those days, you had learned to manage your emotions to keep them from running strongly through the bond you shared with Azriel so as not to overwhelm him. Perhaps it was the only thing that had distracted you during that time from rethinking what had happened, even more than your parents' attempts at conversation.

There was also the matter of the shadows. You knew they were Azriel's, you thought they belonged to him, but some of them were constantly accompanying you, and they got scares out of your father from time to time.

Going back to your parents was supposed to bring you peace, but you felt calmer every time you looked at the tattoo running down your arm and the promise Azriel had made to you with crystallized eyes.

“I hear your thoughts all the way over here, you know?”

You lifted your head, blinking faster. The wind caressed your cheeks and moved your loose hair, for a moment forgetting where you were. Shadows gathered around your feet.

“I'm sorry, did you say something?”

Alya had a posture with her arms up, sending you a curious look. Your childhood friend barely needed to hear the tones in your voice to know when you were lying, but she seemed to want to let it go that time. The people around you didn't seem to know how to deal with the conversations when word got out that you were back, but Alya had a talent for knowing when to touch on topics and when not to.

“Several things,” her body moved toward the fruit baskets, taking the last basket in her arms and starting to walk in the opposite direction. “My brother got married.”

“Really?”

“And he has children.”

“Really?”

“Twins.”

You let out a laugh, remembering Alya's rebellious older brother. Your visits to her house were always accompanied by the constant whining and fighting between Trav and his parents because he didn't want to start a family in the near or distant future. He was so insistent about it, even though it was the only thing his parents wanted. According to Alya's accounts, it was impossible for him not to start imagining that future when he met his mate.

“What about you?”

“Ah, no, please, no. There is nothing interesting to tell about my life. I assure you that Mrs. Taylors had a more exciting life for the past few years than I have,” Alya and you arrived at her mother's fruit stand, where she dropped the last basket of goods you had helped her move all morning. You marched beside her, detailing the look of nonchalance she was trying so hard to maintain.

“It couldn't have just not happened. It was… too many years,” despite the boastfulness with which you wanted to carry the conversation, your voice reached to cut off finishing the sentence. Alya turned to look at you, her worried eyes analyzing your face before grabbing your wrist and walking away from the fruit stand.

“You know you don't have to pretend around me, right?”

Alya closed the door to her house behind her. Her family had gotten a very homey house right in the heart of the city's commerce and they kept their very well kept stall right in front of it. Every corner of the place felt like a home because of the great dedication and love her whole family put into it. Even when her brother was missing, it seemed that the house had not lost any strength or presence.

Maybe that's why you felt a wave of longing and nostalgia hit your body, leaving you more vulnerable than you had been the last few days.

“Living with my parents hasn't been so great,” you began, lowering your gaze with a frown. Alya had moved into the kitchen and you had happily settled down on the counter right in front of the stove. Your hands in front of you on the white ceramic were moving nervously, interlocking and clattering your nails on the hard material. “After so long I thought that… I thought that nothing would change when I came back. I thought we'd be even closer together than before, I even thought we'd sleep together. I spent so many nights… alone and so cold. I couldn't bear the thought of going back and having to go through that kind of torturous loneliness again.”

Alya moved in front of you, setting aside the tea brewing to clasp her hands in yours, still twitching in nervousness and anxiety. Her expression was no longer one of dread as she noticed shadows moving around you.

“Is it because of him?”

You nodded, and acknowledging it once again was no less painful.

“It's illogical, I think,” Alya rested her arms on the ceramic, frowning slightly. The warmth of her hands, even though it wasn't a bit chilly in her house, brought you just enough coziness to try to soothe your heart. It reminded you of that moment at the border of Court Day next to Azriel. “After so long without seeing you, why not take advantage of the indefinite time you'll be with them? They stress too much about something that could happen in two decades, even.”

“I've tried to tell them, but I don't think they'll be happy until I tell them I'm not coming back.”

“What about him?” Alya cocked her head to one side, and at your confused look added, “He wouldn't be willing to come?”

“What? No. I couldn't even suggest it to him,” you shook your head as soon as the words left her mouth.

“Why not?”

“His whole life is in that court, Alya. Asking him to give it all up for me just because I wouldn't be willing to do it for him, wouldn't that be too selfish?”

“You must keep in mind that you've been through special circumstances. If he really feels a quarter of the bond love, then he won't mind giving up everything for you.”

“I don't want to talk about this anymore. The tea is going to dry up.”

Alya shifted letting out a gasp of surprise.

“Fine. But you have to keep in mind that it's not just about you now. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to make decisions for him or stop making them because it's not just your feelings you have to be careful with.”

Azriel still didn't understand how Mor had convinced Tarquin and Rhysand to meet for that reunion on the day you finally returned home, but he was immensely grateful that she had been able to negotiate the terms down to the last instance. The same thing he would've done.

“Are you ever going to see him again?”

“Not as long as I live.”

The aforesaid appeared at the training camp when Azriel was taking some time away from the crowd of people living in the Town House. He would never have believed that he would rather strain his body until he passed out just so he wouldn't have to meet Rhysand's or Cassian's face at every corner. The blood in his veins burned as if it had poison in it, one step away from starting to spit in their directions as if they were the only ones to blame for everything that had happened.

As if he needed to find a culprit for your departure.

But there was no one to blame. It had been your decision. And every day since then Azriel's sentence became significantly larger and more tedious to carry. The worst part was not even knowing when that ordeal would end. Living with that bitterness in his heart and that emptiness in his soul, he didn't believe there could ever be peace in his relationship with his brothers. No one in the house overlooked that.

"She's fine," Mor changed the subject abruptly, knowing exactly how to appease the flame of his anger.

Azriel nearly melted with his forehead against the punching bag. His shoulders slumped in momentary relaxation, the only relaxation he'd allowed himself to have since you'd left.

“You saw her?”

“Yes, she was spending time with her friends. She was smiling. Laughing. She looked happy.”

Azriel had to fight the whine that wanted to escape his lips. He shook his head in assent, trying to keep the emotions at bay, sending a silent thank you through the masses of air. He felt his heart squeezed inside his chest. Every day was a constant uncertainty because he couldn't even feel her anymore…

Mor had to travel weekly to Summer because one of the terms of their agreement with Tarquin required it and for the last three weeks all Azriel had been waiting for was news about you, to know that you were well, that you looked well, that you were really happy there, at home… away from him.

“You know that doesn't imply that she wants to forget you, right?”

The mere implication made his head fall back on the sack. Azriel tried to nod, feeling the words and his own emotions choking him. His body would become an inert object at some point, that much he knew, because he couldn't spend too long living like this. He couldn't even imagine it, if he was just beginning the period that could last for years, even centuries for all he knew.

“I know…” his voice came out choked, almost mistaken for a sigh. “I know.”

He repeated again to himself.

Azriel dreaded knowing how things were going to be from now on.

taglist: @isa1b2h3 @naturakaashi @anuttellaa @tele86 @amysangel @fxckmiup @inloveallthetime @fightmedraco @railingsofsorrow @fandomarchiveilyd

#azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar series #azriel angst

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otomes-world · 1 month ago

Text

Some things never change

no trigger warnings except yandere themes, 2,7k words and as we all love barely edited text

Probably, running away from home wasn't the smartest decision in life. In any case. The reason for such act depended on the questioner. If it was one of the friendly, elderly aunts, then you modestly told them about the desire to achieve recognition for the family. For younger acquaintances, the version acquired more dreamy shades in the form of recognition for yourself. For someone less meticulous, the desire to see the world was enough.

In the end you couldn't change the past, however, you were not eager to return home and beg for forgiveness, as most casual people painted a picture for themselves. Therefore, you always kept silent about the interesting beginning of the journey, preferring to tell stories of a later period. About how, by pure chance, you met a traveling troupe of artists and joined them. Did you know how to sing, dance, play a role? At an average level, yes.

Was it hard at first? Definitely.

Nevertheless, the stubborn decision to live your own life, leaving all the unpleasantness behind, won out and you, convincing and sometimes negotiating with yourself, swallowed the complaints. The meaningful glances from the other performers were safely ignored. They could think whatever they wanted, as long as they didn’t start leaving comments and sticking their noses into things that weren’t their business. Sounded like passive aggression? Touché.

Be that as it may, after a couple of months of involuntary life together and shared stories, the distance between you decreased to comfortable evening conversations and jokes in a whisper.

Has a small troupe of the same lost souls as you become a family in the full sense of the word? You always answered something vague and tried to change topic to something else. If others noticed, they preferred to tactfully remain silent and intercept the conversation. Everyone had their own reason for wandering, which meant that you were in for a maximum of understanding and a minimum of interference.

At least, these were the thoughts that always visited you at the beginning of autumn. To be more precise, when warm weather started dropping hints of cold wind and a rare drizzle of rain. No, you had no complaints about the season itself, only about your own melancholic mood, which was becoming part of everyday life. For performer, the beginning of autumn marked the end of the working season. Of course, there were occasions when you were invited to brighten up the evening of this or that eccentric nobleman, but they were incredibly rare. If you managed to count them on the fingers of one hand, it was considered lucky.

Winter served as a break for most. For agriculture, for trade, for travel… for you. In winter, finding something to do, a job, became more difficult. It was harder to distract yourself. There were no nights whose sky was painted with hundreds of lights. Noisy companies of people, in the flow of which it was so easy to forget and let yourself be led anywhere.

Inazuma - the nation of eternity, was supposed to be the last major stop this year. To be honest, even as a child you listened with apprehension to stories about this country. About visions. However, the gods did not consider you worthy of their gift. The bitterness of disappointment was felt as an unpleasant aftertaste even at a conscious age. Now you were watching life and the changing emotions on the faces of the townspeople from the window of a small ryokan's room with detachment. An unfinished mask for the next outfit rested on your lap.

It seemed that all the nightmares were left behind, it seemed that they were not afraid of the imminent onset of cold weather. The thoughts of both old and young were occupied only with the upcoming farewell to summer - you preferred to tactfully remain silent about the fact that it was already over.

The needle fell out of your hands with a barely audible ringing sound, falling to the floor. Looking down at your hands, you immediately clenched and unclenched them several times, trying to stop the trembling. This was clearly not the first and not the last winter in your life. Why doesn't the feeling of anxiety leave you? So noticeable that if the needle hadn't fallen out, you could have cut the air with it. Your "friends" wrote it all off as autumn dismals and for a moment you really wanted to sincerely believe their words.

It all started with crossing the border, as if the velvety purple skies were warning you about something in advance, carefully forgetting to specify what exactly. You decided that it was all because of the noticeable change in the weather. After the warm Sumeru, Inazuma seemed cold and unfriendly.

The meeting with Commissioner Yashiro took even the most experienced and seasoned performer, your unofficial leader, by surprise. You remembered how someone briefly mentioned a family whose responsibilities included organizing festivals. However, discussing and obtaining permission from the leader still shook you to the depths of your soul.

Despite the obligatory nature of some moments brought by the new life, you still did not like meeting with nobles, especially tete-a-tete. They reminded you of a time you wanted to leave behind. Memories you wanted to rewrite, erase, bury under a pile of new ones and never think about again. Whether it was a defensive reaction or a personal dislike, no one asked. As long as you performed without causing problems, no one was going to pry into your soul.

Tremble in your hands became stronger, as well as your heart beat faster in your chest.

The Kamisato family estate was amazing, causing admiring whispers from the troupe and anxiety in you. The ceilings were too high, reminding you of a beautiful cage, one of which you had so carefully left. You tried to avoid such talent display in front of the nobles: you wanted to show off as little as possible. Even though you understood in your mind that the probability of meeting a familiar face in a foreign country was extremely small, you could never calm your paranoia.

Hope died last, so you prayed that there would be some urgent matter, any really, that did not require delay and a trusted person would conduct the meeting. However, fate rarely took into account someone's wishes, since the quiet voices and greetings of the servants in the corridor became a sufficiently clear sign.

In such grand mansions, your body acted on its own, straightening your back and wiping all emotion from your face, leaving a neutral smile. Despite all your attempts to imitate your new acquaintances, some habits seemed to be engraved on your bones. Whether it was luck or not, was another question. The singer, who for some reason was treating you like a younger relative, winked to you encouragingly, while your insides turned cold.

You didn’t like the look of the Commissioner. He was pleasant, behaved appropriately, flashing his knowledge of the fine arts, without putting himself in an bad light. Looking at the man from under your lowered eyelashes, for a second you felt a pang of envy. About what your life could have been if you had followed the beaten path, instead of jumping off a cliff with the unknown at its very bottom. Suppressing a moment of weakness, you smiled charmingly when the conversation turned to you, playing the role of a silly person who was passionate about arts.

You stood up, forcing yourself to take deep breaths, ignoring the darkening in your eyes. As soon as your gaze cleared, you tiredly sank down again, reaching for the fallen mask, to which you had been sewing feathers a few minutes ago. The quick and sharp pain made you pull your hand back in panic, while the voice of reason reminded you of the needle that had fallen. Shaking your head a couple of times, as if it could throw out unpleasant emotions and restore your calm, you grabbed the mask in one movement and casually threw it on the bed, or as it was called here a futon. The needle and a bag of colored feathers were carefully put away in the nightstand.

For some incomprehensible, twisted reason, you were the one deciding the organizational issues. To be more precise, this was the wish expressed by the Commissioner, and the kind "head" of the troupe did not object. Words about a pleasant impression, an interesting, new look at the performances and compliments from the servants of the estate - like a porcelain doll - were drowned in the general monotonous noise, while the body still refused to move.

The need to end everything as quickly as possible became sufficient motivation. Visit the estate, solve a few pressing issues and return to your room, lock yourself in and hide from the world until the moment when you would have to go out again. Repeating this phrase like a mantra, you sat in the familiar interior and tried to fight the desire to jump out of the window.

"Are you okay?" A sympathetic voice asks, for a second you even believed in sincerity which it hold.

"Yes, Monsieur Kamisato," the answer bursts out on its own, and then, as if realizing your mistake, you lowered your head in a bow. "I'm sorry, I meant Kamisato-sama."

Some habits are unchangeable.

The man just laughed softly, "You may address me as you prefer. I suppose the language barrier is sometimes difficult to overcome?"

"Thank you, I hope my Fontaine's accent does not offend you. I try to fill in the gaps in the cultural peculiarities of the languages of different corners of Teyvat." You answered, reading between the lines of his question.

You tried to ignore the man as much as etiquette allowed, whose eyes narrowed in satisfaction, like a cat, that had been watching a canary for a long time. Reaching for the papers on which the rough plan of the event was sketched, you were about to change the topic, but he was beat you to it.

"I hope that your stay in Inazuma is going smoothly and nothing has marred the first impression." Slightly tilting your head to the side, you looked at the nobleman, waiting for him to continue. "I assume you know about Tri-Commisions, Yashiro, let me clarify."

Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to answer as close to textbook as possible, "It's one of the organizations in Inazuma. They, you, are in charge of managing shrines, festivals, and cultural events."

"With such a well-known history, it's rather surprising that we don't have a permanent troupe of performers. Perhaps we should entertain the idea." The softness in his voice, the pleasant, inviting atmosphere, and the innocently asked question made you genuinely disgusted.

"If you think so," perhaps not the best answer, but short enough not to ruin the conversation or make yourself seem rude. You didn't have to be a prophet to not guess what the other side was hinting at. "Would you allow me to ask your opinion on the event's plan?"

As if he had already achieved his goal, the man kindly allowed the conversation to return back to work, which you were grateful for.

You couldn't flash much experience in small talk. Each meeting with the Commissioner made you remember everything that they had so diligently tried to hammer into you, to mold the version that should correspond to the norms.

He had it all. Soft pressure, skill of confidently inclining the dialogue in a favorable direction. Man never showed open aggression, did not give you anything that you could latch on to. Smoothly and gracefully dropped small hints on where he could press if you decided to act differently from the path he had already planned.

"Thank you, I will take your wishes into account and make the necessary changes," politely ending the meeting, you slowly began to collect the papers you had brought and the sheet of notes.

"Have you ever thought about settling down?" The question catches you off guard, the papers almost falling out of your hands, scattering across the table and the floor. Instead, a smile appears on your face and your body moves on its own again.

"You are very kind. Will you allow me to pass on your generous offer to hire our troupe to the others? I do not have the authority to make such a decision on my own."

"Ah, yes, of course," his eyes narrow slightly again, letting you know that trying to play on the meaning of his words would not work. "Your unity is admirable," the implied 'considering your type of work' hangs in the air.

"I will pass on your praise, Kamisato-sama," another bow. "Please, excuse me."

To your great happiness, he made no attempt to stop you. He let you reach the shoji, push it aside, but just before you could close it, he added, "I hope you'll consider the offer personally."

The sound of the door closing ringed louder in your ears than it actually was.

Hope, such a fragile, unreliable thing, had let you down more often than anyone else in your life. Each time, burning and burying another piece of yourself, you thought about home. If a place from the past could be called like that. About too many expectations and too few opportunities for self-realization. About a ready-made life plan, presented on a silver platter, all you had to do was reach out.

Something wet falls into your palm. The unexpected screams of passersby, escaping from the rain, were barely discernible through the veil of white noise. Focusing your gaze on the window frame of the same empty room in the ryokan, you touched your own face with your other hand.

It was dry.

You wiped your palm on the fabric of your clothes and held back a sigh. Although the Commissioner had not specified a deadline for making a decision, your intuition told you that the day of the festival was the maximum you could hope for.

The troupe took the news ambiguously. Some liked the prospect of a permanent job. Some lived for travel.

Some were… you. A rabbit trying to outrun the clock. Or a bud that, instead of falling and brightly flaring up in the flames of the stove, fell off with the wind. Flower that didn't want to become part of someone's herbarium and was now soaking in a puddle, hoping to dissolve in it and disappear as if it had never existed. No one looked at their feet, hurrying about their business in the hustle and bustle of days.

Almost no one.

A beviolent person stopped and carefully unfolded his own album. You just had to reach out. The voice of a familiar singer breaks through the noise of the rain, like the thunder of Her Excellency. Would you be able to say "Yes" once and keep a right to say "No"? Unfortunately, the strength to answer this question was becoming less and less. As was the time until the event.

The trees had already managed to change into different shades of colors, dappled with orange, red and even purple leaves, attracting the gaze of everyone who was ready to look. Despite the feeling of cold, the sun was still warming the earth, giving the last days of trancility. Could the electro Archon take pity and bless her people, waiting for the festivities with them?

"Opportunities to bask in the sunlight like this are few and far between."

"That's how," hearing a voice right next to your ear, you didn't even take your eyes off the waves. Or to be more precise, their barely noticeable echoes, now and then disappearing from sight due to the wind and tree crowns.

What exactly you were hoping to see in the distance, and whether were you hoping, was a moot point. One of those that tensed up the atmosphere from the first words spoken. You didn't want to take responsibility and get caught in the crossfire.

"The Shogun's mood is extremely favorable these days," it seemed someone decided to take pity and throw you a bone. For this, you ignored the light touch on your shoulder. "Thoma conveyed that the fishermen whose boats safely returned to port do not cease to thank her."

You stayed still for a moment, considering something you couldn't give a name. Expectedly, Commissioner was fine with your lack of reaction most of the time, as long as you were where he wanted you to be.

"Winter will come soon"

Was there any meaning in this phrase or did it mean something completely different. Was it spoken for those who could hear, or did you voice it for yourself. You didn't know anymore.

A drop fell on the windowsill and purely by instinct you touched your cheek again, but, unfortunately, the sound of the rain that began once again reminded you how stupid it was to hope for anything.

He lied after all.

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peakyswritings · 8 months ago

Text

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART VII

Summary: after failing to propose to Agnese, Tommy is given an ultimatum. But the events of the previous night only complicate things further, and Tommy and Nina are forced to have a conversation they can’t escape. Meanwhile, Pietro has something to ask his sister.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, references to past attempted assault, no proofreading, English is not my first language. This is set between season 1 and 2.

A/N: the wait has been awfully long, and I’m sorry for that! I’m trying to find the way to be more constant with my updates🤍

PREVIOUS PART

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gif credits

Dividers credits

One week.

They had given him one more week of time to propose to Agnese, or else the deal would be off.

He would be lying if he said that he didn’t expect it, though. He was playing with fire, and he knew it. When he had decided to go for lunch at Agnese’s house the previous day, he had indirectly made it clear that he’d finally propose. And that was the intention, at first. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Under the expectant eyes of Agnese’s family, Tommy couldn’t find it in himself to pull the ring out of his pocket and ask that fateful question. Why was it so damn difficult?

That wasn’t how things were meant to go. He was supposed to go to Italy, court whatever woman they preferred, and get on with it. He’d stop the war, he’d help the Ferrantes in their own war with Sabini, and everyone would be happy. He would keep his head, and the Ferrantes would keep their place on top of the racing business - alongside with him. He thought he had considered all the obstacles that could possibly get in his way, and yet there was one he would’ve never taken into account. That obstacle had a name and a face. A quite pretty face, too.

He was fucked. He was utterly, inexorably fucked. After last night, he was sure of that. The worst thing was - he had been truthful when he had said that he didn’t regret it. Because he didn’t, not even a bit. It felt like all the choices he had ever made had brought him to that moment, to that kiss, to having her in his arms, to be enveloped by her warmth. And God, did he feel cold when she walked away.

He just wished Polly were there. She would know what to do. She’d yell at him, probably, maybe even slap him. But she’d help him. She was half of him, and understood him so much more than he understood himself. He hadn’t imagined it would be so hard to even function without her being by his side. However, he knew better than to write to her, because he was well aware that the letter would pass through other hands first. Those people trusted him no more than he trusted them.

After lunch, Tommy took advantage of the fact that Nina was washing the dishes on her own to approach her. He had the impression she had been actively ignoring him, averting his gaze and leaving every time he tried to get close to her, avoiding the conversation they couldn’t really escape. Leaning against the counter, he allowed himself a moment to look at her. Her eyebrows were furrowed in that frown that had now become so familiar to him, and that he had grown to find rather cute. A rebellious lock had escaped her braid, falling in front of her face, and he had to restrain himself from giving in to the temptation to reach his hand out and fix it.

“We should talk about what happened,” he eventually murmured, making sure to keep his voice low.

Nina’s posture stiffened, but her face didn’t betray any sort of emotion. “What are you talking about?” She asked, keeping on scrubbing a plate without sparing him a single glance.

He blinked, opening his mouth to say something, but words failed him at her question. Out of all the things she could’ve said, that one he didn’t expect. Collecting himself, he spoke again. “Yesterday night.”

“I don’t recall anything happening yesterday night.”

Her words caused his eyebrows to shot up, and he couldn’t hold back a scoff. “Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious.”

“Nina, we need to discuss-”

“You want me to discuss something I don’t recall?” She quickly interrupted him, not even giving him the chance to finish his sentence.

The muscles in his jaw clenched, and it took him more than a moment to shake off the annoyance. He couldn’t believe she was seriously doing that. It wasn’t just her words that managed to get under Tommy’s skin, but her completely indifferent attitude, and the way she was treating him as if she was doing him a favour just by giving him her attention. They had gotten so close he had forgotten how aggravating she could be. “You can pretend all you want, sweetheart. It won’t make what happened any less real.”

“Sweetheart.”

“But if that’s what you wanna do, then fine,” he continued, his tone switching to the one he reserved for business. Apparently, that was the game she wanted to play. But he was a good player, too, and he wouldn’t let her see how much her indifference stung. With a swift motion, he took ahold of his pocket watch, clearing his throat. “It’s late,” he changed the subject, with the air of a man whose time had been wasted long enough. “I have a meeting with your father.”

“Then go.”

Finally, Nina looked at him, eyes glaring with a silent threat to leave her alone. There was something else in her gaze, though, something he couldn’t quite read. It was frustrating, not being able to read her. He could usually tell about people, yet she stayed a mystery. It didn’t matter how much time they spent together, there was always something that eluded him, a missing piece that prevented him from getting the whole picture. For a short while, they just stared at each other in silence, and Tommy was hit by the foolish need to feel her close again. It was as if the more Nina pushed him away, the more he felt himself drawn to her. It was overwhelming. So overwhelming that he had to immediately leave the room before he did something that would put the both of them in an awful position. He hated the way Nina’s mere presence was enough to make him lose any sort of power he had over his emotions, melting into dust the control he had worked to hard to achieve. He couldn’t afford to lose that control, not when there was so much at stake.

Fucking hell.

As soon as Tommy left the room, Nina exhaled, letting out the breath she had been holding under his stare. Why was it so hard for her to keep him at a distance? Why did it pain her to treat him as if she didn’t care about him in the slightest? Why did she care about him?

It was messed up. Absurd. She couldn’t get the events of the previous night out of her head. The scent of his aftershave, the taste of whiskey and cigarettes on his tongue, the tender firmness of his rough hands. Just thinking about it made her knees go weak again. No one had ever kissed her like he did, looked at her like he did, made her feel the things he had made her feel. She had never even thought it possible, and now there she was, replaying it in her mind again and again, craving way more than the mere memory.

It had been a mistake, a terrible mistake.

“Nina, can you come here for a second?” Pietro’s voice resounded in the kitchen, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Her cheeks heated as she felt as if she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to do. She hid it by staying with her back on him, under the impression that her betrayal was written on her face, and that just by looking at her he’d be able to tell what she had done. She put the last plate in the cabinet before drying her hands with a rug. “What?”

“Sit.”

When she turned around, her brother was sitting at the table, waiting for her to join him. Although he had spoken in his usual authoritative tone, there was something strange in his demeanour, a hint of uneasiness that breached through his facade of unwavering composure. Furrowing her brows, Nina took a seat in front of him, waiting for him to speak. The silence seemed to stretch into an eternity as Pietro clasped his hands on the table, visibly pondering his next words.

“I know about Stefano.”

The blood froze in her veins as her brother uttered those words, her heart thumping in her chest at implication that he might know what Stefano had attempted. She gulped, her throat feeling suddenly dry. “What?”

“Dad told me he wants to marry you.”

Nina had to hold back a sigh of relief at his statement. She had no idea how he would react, if he’d keep her secret or tell their father about it, if he’d help her or blame her. Because even though in her heart she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, she didn’t have the certainty that her family would think the same. Then his words sunk in, and it didn’t take long for her worry to turn into disturbance, her blood boiling at the sensation of having her strings being pulled, again.

“You want to convince me?” She asked with an undertone of accusation in her voice.

“I want to know what you want,” he said carefully, testing the waters. After a brief pause, which served to ascertain that his sister would listen to him and not verbally attack him before he could say another word, he started again, this time more firmly. “Nina, the balance between our families might shift at any given moment. A marriage between the two of you would avert any prospect of war,” he pragmatically explained, causing Nina’s expression to harden. But it didn’t take long for his mask to slip, and his features softened with understanding. “But that means nothing if you don’t want to marry him.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then you won’t have to,” he leaned forward, and Nina could read the glimpse of a promise shining in his gaze. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Her brother’s calmness, along with the assurance in his voice, managed to partially quieten the storm going on in her mind. But it still wasn’t enough to make her feel safe. She shook her head, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. He couldn’t really make that promise, after all. And as much as she deluded herself to have a say in what would happen in her future, Nina knew that if things went down she wouldn’t really have a choice. “It’s decided, in dad’s head. He said the choice’s up to me, but we both know that it’s not.”

She despised the undertone of resignation in her voice. She had never voiced that thought, she had never even allowed herself to indulge in it up until that point, but she knew that was just another addition to the pile of problems she’d have to face, sooner of later.

Pietro didn’t seem to intend to let the matter go. He leaned with his arms on the table, his dark eyes stubbornly looking for Nina’s gaze. “Do you trust me?”

That question was enough to make Nina falter. Did she trust him?

She used to, up until before the war. Blindly. They were so close she would’ve trusted him with her life. He was the one who convinced her father to let her finish school, he was the one who took the blame - and the punishment - for her wrongdoings when they were children, he was the one she turned to when she had a problem. Then he left for war, and never came back. But his eyes were telling her that he would be by her side no matter what, that he would always have her back. And she wondered - what if she told him? What if she opened up and and shared with him the burden she had carried on her shoulders for too many years? Maybe he would protect her. Because fragments of the boy she grew up with were still scattered somewhere deep inside him, and that boy would do anything to keep her safe.

“Pietro, I…” she hesitated, shifting in her seat. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?” He frowned.

“I…”

He’ll blame you.

That thought poisoned Nina’s mind, stopping the words from coming out of her mouth. He wouldn’t protect her, he’d blame her. He’d tell their father, and he’d blame her too. Because if Stefano had gotten so obsessed with her, chances were she had done something to accommodate that kind of behaviour.

No one could protect her. No one would protect her. She only had herself.

“What, Nina?” Pietro’s impatient voice brought her back to her senses, and the weight of his stare was suddenly too much to bear. Gathering her emotions back under her control, she shook her head, brushing the matter off with the a gesture of her hand.

“Nevermind. It’s not important.”

Standing outside the door of Tommy’s bedroom, Nina nervously fidgeted with her fingers, debating whether to knock or chicken out and go back to her room. Or maybe she could wait for him in the kitchen. Maybe he’d join her, like every night.

No, he wouldn’t join her. Not after the way she had treated him. She had been childish, and insufferable. But truth was - she didn’t want to have that conversation, because talking about it meant admitting that something had, indeed, happened. That she had betrayed her cousin, her family. Herself. And she felt like a terrible person. However, Tommy was right. Pretending wouldn’t take back what was done, and her problems wouldn’t solve themselves. If she wanted to make things easier for herself, she should start somewhere. So in a fit of determination, she had left her bedroom and crossed the corridor, knowing that she needed to act before the urge to take back control of her life faded. It was safe to say she already regretted it, though. Finally, she mustered up the courage and delicately knocked on the door, her heart racing in her chest. There was some noise, then the door opened, and she was met with Tommy’s surprised expression.

“Can I come in?” She shyly asked, suddenly aware that showing up at his door in the middle of the night was probably a bit too bold, even for her. After recovering from his astonishment, Tommy moved to the side, allowing her to walk inside the room.

She hadn’t entered that room since before his arrival. It was somehow curious, to see how he had made himself at home. It was just like she expected it to be. Tidy, clean, and it smelled like his expensive cologne. For some reason, the belongings placed around it made him seem more human. The shoes paired on the floor next to the closet, the clothes for the next day neatly folded on a chair, the cigarette case placed on the bedside table, next to a flask. She would bet his gun was in the first drawer.

“How did the meeting with my father go?” She stalled, asking the first thing that came to her mind while she thought about how to start the actual conversation.

Tommy apparently wasn’t in the mood for small talk, though, because he completely ignored her question. Instead, his piercing gaze followed her as she took a few steps around the room, a mixture of bewilderment and annoyance on his face. It was clear to Nina that he was thoroughly fed up with her bullshit, and she couldn’t really blame him. As much as she hated to admit he was in the right, she was aware she was treading on thin ice. A heavy silence fell into the room, and Nina felt a faint sense of agitation starting to creep up on her. It wasn’t just the weight of Tommy’s glare on her that made her feel uncomfortable, but the feeling of general awkwardness that felt so unnatural between them now. Then a hint of doubt crossed his features, as if he had been suddenly struck by some realisation.

“Why are you here, Nina?” He squinted his eyes, taking a few steps in her direction. “Information? Is your family sending you?”

Nina felt like the rug had been pulled from under her feet. She opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out of it as she was too shocked to put a whole sentence together. “What?” She eventually said under her breath.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Tommy went on, walking until he stopped right in front of her. “And I’ve been wondering why your family hasn’t had my head yet for not proposing. Are you hiding something?”

“What would I be hiding?”

“You tell me. Why did you get near me, eh?”

“Fuck you,” she spat out. His accusation felt like a harsh slap to her face. How dared he say something like that after how close she had let him? After she had opened up to him about things she had never even admitted to herself? After she had let him see her?

Tommy regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. The hint of hurt behind the anger on Nina’s face made his stomach clench, and he cursed himself for how cruel he had been. Whatever it was that they had built over the last month couldn’t be some kind of farce, a trap set to act behind his back. It was too real, too sincere. And Nina wasn’t Grace.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured after a moment of hesitation. “I didn’t mean it.”

“But you said it.”

Tommy looked away from her, as the pain in her eyes only added to the gnawing guilt eating at him. Guilt. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long while. He had become kind of numb to it, he often pushed it back without second thought, not allowing himself to dwell on things he could’ve done differently and things he shouldn’t have said. In his line work, guilt was a weakness, and a dangerous one. It had become way too easy to say, do and take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it, no matter how many people got hurt in the process. Yet there it was, that strange, niggling feeling, stinging him like an annoying splinter.

Shaking off the mixture of anger and hurt, Nina took a few steps back, concluding that it was time to stop dancing around the subject. The sooner they had that conversation, the sooner things would go back to normal. Straightening her back, she took on a facade of fake confidence, hoping it wouldn’t crumble as soon as Tommy’s eyes would be on her again. “What happened…” she started, drawing his attention back on her. “Was a mistake. We’ve…” she paused, carefully choosing what to say next. “…acted impulsively. It was a moment of weakness, nothing more.”

Tommy fixed his gaze on the wall behind her, pondering her words. “Right,” he nodded, returning his eyes to her. “It didn’t mean anything,” he confirmed, but something in his expression was telling her that he was only saying that to see her reaction, silently daring her to agree with him and keep on denying the existence of what was right in front of them.

“So we’re clear.”

“We’re clear,” he repeated.

The silence of things left unsaid echoed in Tommy’s bedroom, but neither of them dared to break it, for they knew that once they took that step, there would be no going back. It had been just a kiss. They had cleared things out. Everything was normal again.

Nina took a look around the room, hoping that focusing on the small details would take her mind off that awful tension. It worked, to some extent, because her attention was soon grabbed by the only item that seemed to be out of place: the peaky cap lying on his bed. With slow, measured steps she made her way towards it, unable to hold back her interest.

“What I’ve said before,” Tommy’s deep voice resounded behind her. “I didn’t mean it. I know I said it, but I didn’t mean it. I need you to know.”

“It’s fine,” she said absentmindedly, observing how the razor blades sewn in it glistened in the dim light. “You know, they say it’s bad luck to put a hat on the bed,” she murmured.

“Do you believe it?” He asked with an undertone of skepticism in his voice, almost certain that Nina wasn’t the superstitious type.

“No,” she turned to face him with a half-grin, confirming his suspicions.

As if naturally drawn to the peculiarity of that choice of weapon, Nina looked back at the cap, but this time she couldn’t restrain herself from reaching her hand out to it. She wavered for a second, but then the curiosity took the best of her, and she grabbed it to take a better look at it. The crown of a King. She couldn’t help but wonder how many faces those razor blades had cut, how many eyes they had blinded, guided by the same hand that had handled her with such gentleness. She couldn’t picture Tommy losing his calm. He had a charm, a magnetism that clashed with his reputation, and he was so composed in the way he carried himself that it felt almost impossible to believe he was as ruthless as everyone said. And a shiver ran down her spine as she realised how little she actually knew him.

But it wasn’t fear. She hadn’t been scared of him the first time she had met him and she wasn’t scared now.

“Why do you keep them if you have guns?” She asked, handing it back to him. Although she didn’t believe that stuff, the thought of putting his hat on the bed didn’t sit well with her.

“We’re called the Peaky Blinders for a reason, sweetheart,” he explained, earning a glare from Nina as he brought back the pet name that had bothered her so much earlier that day. “And it’s a good backup if they take away your weapon.”

With a nod of her head, Nina quietly agreed with him. It did make sense. “I guess you can never be too safe.”

He uncovered the central blade, exposing it to the light. “My sister and my aunt always have one of these smuggled under the sole of their shoe.” Tommy paused for a few seconds, as if thinking about something, then he took ahold of the razor blade and ripped it off the cap. “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “Keep it.”

His unexpected gesture made Nina falter, but then she carefully grabbed the blade. The sensation of the cold metal between her fingers gave her an odd feeling of security, and she asked herself how something so small could cause so much damage. When she raised her gaze on Tommy, he was already looking at her, his blue irises deep with an emotion she couldn’t really define, but that disarmed her nonetheless. They were so close she could perceive the warmth radiating off his body, and she had no idea how that had happened. She could feel him, solid and secure, and the only thing she could think about was having his hands on her again, his arms enveloping her, his whole body pressed against hers.

Tommy wasn’t immune to that proximity either, and the urge of closing the distance between them was getting bigger and bigger. Her lips, her eyes, her scent, everything was calling him, and it took all the self-restraint he was capable of not to give in to the temptation. Why did she have to look at him like that?

Inhaling sharply, Nina took a step back, leaving a cold, painful emptiness in the spot she had previously filled. “It’s late,” she whispered, rubbing her arms in a soothing manner. “Goodnight.”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned around, starting to walk away. Driven by the unreasonable need to have her with him just for a little while more, Tommy moved to reach out to her, but his body froze in place as reason struck him like a blow. It was pointless. They were nothing, they would always be nothing.

So he let her leave.

NEXT PART

Heart, Body and Soul tag list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4 @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse @citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @outlanderuniverse @red-riding-wood @evita-shelby

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x oc

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brookghaib-blog · 4 months ago

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Whispers of the past pt.13

Pairing: Hoshina Sohiro x reader

Summary: 10 years ago, Y/N went missing after being attacked by a kaiju, now working by Gen Narumi's side as his secret weapon, she hides herself in hopes that one day she reconnects with her first love, Hoshino Soshiro.

pt.12

Y/N's pov:

The cool night air rustled my hair as I stood on the rooftop, the city sprawling beneath me like a glittering sea. I held my phone to my ear, waiting for Narumi to pick up. The mission had been weighing heavily on my mind, and I needed to share the details with him.

"Hey," Narumi's familiar voice crackled through the speaker. "How's it going?"

I took a deep breath. "Narumi, I've been following up on the mission you assigned me. Trying to find another human-kaiju is proving to be more difficult than we thought."

There was a pause on the other end. "What have you found so far?"

"Not much," I admitted, frustration seeping into my voice. "Whoever this kaiju is, they’re very good at staying hidden. I can’t detect them when they're in human form, just like I can’t be detected. But I’ve been keeping an eye on the new recruits."

"Anyone stand out?" Narumi asked, his tone serious.

"Yeah, actually," I replied, leaning against the railing. "There's this guy, Kafka Hibino. He’s an odd choice for the Defense Force. He's incredibly slow and seems to have no power at all. I can’t figure out why he was recruited."

Narumi sighed. "Keep an eye on him. Sometimes the least obvious suspects can be the most dangerous."

"Will do," I said, jotting down a mental note to watch Kafka more closely. "I'll keep you updated on any developments."

Narumi's voice softened slightly. "How was it facing Soshiro?"

I hesitated, the memory of our confrontation still raw. "It was...normal. He tried to talk to me, but I kept him at arm’s length. I plan to keep it that way."

"I’m sorry you have to go through this," Narumi said. "If you need to get out of the Third Division or if things get too hard, just let me know. I'll make sure you’re reassigned."

I felt a surge of gratitude. "Thank you, Narumi. I appreciate it. But I want to see this through. I need to prove to myself that I can do this."

"I know you can," Narumi said confidently. "Just remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re all here to support you."

I smiled, feeling a bit lighter. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"Narumi," I said, my voice hesitant, "do you have any updates on Mr. Orochi's murder?"

There was a pause on the other end before he replied. "Nothing concrete yet. No cameras caught anything, and no weapon has been identified. It's like he just vanished and then reappeared dead."

I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling inside me. "How can that be? There must be something."

"I know," Narumi sighed. "We've interviewed some of the workers from the bar, but nobody knows anything beyond his odd behavior toward the end. It’s like he wasn’t the same person."

"His odd behavior," I echoed, thinking back to our last conversation. "He was acting strange that day. Almost like…like he wasn’t human."

Narumi's voice softened. "I promise you, Y/N, we’ll find out who did this. But it’s a complex case. We have so little to go on."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions. "I know you’re doing everything you can. It’s just hard to accept."

"I understand," he said gently. "Mr. Orochi was important to you. But we have to be patient. These things take time."

"Yeah," I murmured, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. "I just…I want justice for him."

"And we’ll get it," Narumi assured me. "In the meantime, focus on your mission. Keep me updated on Kafka and any other leads you find."

"Will do," I said, my voice firmer. "Thanks, Narumi."

We ended the call, and I slipped my phone into my pocket, the unresolved questions about Mr. Orochi’s death swirling in my mind. As I looked out over the city, I made a silent vow to uncover the truth, no matter how long it took.

The following morning, I threw myself into my work with renewed determination. Training with the Third Division was rigorous, but it kept my mind occupied. I kept a close watch on Kafka, my suspicion growing with each passing day. His behavior, though seemingly harmless, was too ordinary—too calculated.

After an intense training session, I retreated to the rooftop once again. The solitude offered a chance to clear my mind. I dialed Narumi’s number, needing to hear his voice.

"Hey," he answered, sounding a bit more upbeat. "How’s it going?"

"Slow progress," I admitted. "But I’m not giving up. Kafka’s still the most strange out there, although, there are some pretty interesting suspects, they are very strong for beginners, but nothing that indicates that the strenght comes from a kaiju.."

"Keep at it, you're doing great" Narumi encouraged.

"Thanks," I said, appreciating his support more than he knew. "Narumi, do you think there could be others like me out there? Humans who’ve been turned into kaiju?"

There was a thoughtful pause before he replied. "It's possible. If it happened to you, it could happen to others. We need to be vigilant."

I nodded, feeling a sense of purpose. "I’ll keep that in mind."

Sitting in my assigned room, I stared blankly at the wall, the weight of Soshiro’s words pressing heavily on my mind. His suggestion that Narumi and I had something between us was absurd, yet it gnawed at my thoughts. How could he have seen us kissing? I had no recollection of such a thing ever happening. The confusion was overwhelming.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Narumi’s number, my heart pounding in my chest. It was late, but I needed answers.

"Hey, Y/N," Narumi answered, his voice surprisingly alert for the hour. "Everything okay?"

"Narumi, I’m sorry for calling so late, but I need to talk to you about something," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

"Sure, what’s up?" he asked, concern evident in his tone.

"I had a conversation with Soshiro when I went to ask him questions about the Kaiju" I began, taking a deep breath. "He got a little of track and he suggested that you and I have some sort of relationship. He even said he saw us kissing at the bar where I worked."

Narumi was silent for a moment, clearly processing what I had just told him. "I never spoke to Soshiro about any relationship," he finally said, confusion lacing his words. "Why would he think that?"

"I don’t know," I admitted, feeling a sense of frustration. "But he was so convinced. He said he saw us kissing. Do you remember saying anything that may habe been misunderstood?"

Narumi hesitated, a sigh escaping his lips. "There was one night," he began slowly, "after one of your performances. You got blackout drunk and…you kissed me."

I felt my heart stop. "What?" I whispered, mortified. "I…Narumi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I basically assaulted you."

"Hey, it’s okay," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You were drunk, and it wasn’t like that. You didn’t know what you were doing."

My face burned with embarrassment, and I could feel my eyes welling up with tears. "I’m so sorry," I repeated, feeling utterly humiliated.

Out of nowhere, Narumi’s tone shifted. "You know Y/N, you can do whatever you want with me," he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. "I’ll let you."

I blinked, completely taken aback. "What?" I stammered, my cheeks burning.

"With Soshiro out of the picture," Narumi continued, his voice dripping with a mix of seduction and playfulness, "I can show you what a real man feels like. Can you do me a favor?"

"Um, sure," I said, still trying to process the sudden change in his demeanor. "What do you need?"

"Say my name," he requested, his voice dropping to a deeper, almost husky tone.

"Narumi?" I replied, unsure of where this was going.

"No, Y/N," he corrected gently. "Come on, say my name."

Realization dawned on me, and my heart raced faster. "Gen?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

On the other end of the line, I heard Narumi almost moan. "Yes," he breathed, his voice sounding deeper and more intimate. "You make me so happy."

I felt a rush of heat flood my face, completely speechless. Before I could respond, Narumi added, "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice filled with concern. "You sound…weird."

"I’m more than okay," Narumi assured me. "You just made my night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Y/N."

With that, he hung up, leaving me staring at my phone in disbelief. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, embarrassment, and something else I couldn’t quite identify.

I sat there for a long time, replaying the conversation in my head. What just happened?

#soshino x reader #hoshina x reader #kaiju art #fanfic #soshiro hoshina #kaiju no. 8 #hoshina soshiro x reader #fics #kn8 #kn8 fanart #kn8 x reader #kn8 fanfic

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queenie-ofthe-void · 3 months ago

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A Desperate Fool - Part 5

Part 4

Last Time: Nancy had an unexpected guest while filling Eddie in on everything he's missed over the past year. Now: Nancy finally tells him what's going on with Steve

~~~

Nancy starts the story at the beginning of the end.

Robin, Max, and Lucas flew out to LA and spent the last three days of Eddie’s ten day bender loading up boxes, carving Steve out of his life. After severing her lease, Robin and Steve moved into a small apartment in Chicago, only a train ride away from Dustin– which worked out when Steve struggled to leave the house for the first two months. All of the arcade and game store money Steve spent on the kids over the years was paid back in full to help cover the rent.

Eddie remembers the moment he opened their front door to a hollowed-out home. No toothbrush by the sink. No gold, wire-framed glasses on the nightstand. Just Steve’s matching guitar pick necklace next to two silver house keys, and a note which said ”don’t call” in Robin’s looped handwriting.

The first few months after Steve moved out are just a whirlwind in his memory. Countless parties and late nights and warm beds buried his grief, keeping it at bay, at least for a while.

Then Corroded Coffin’s new album Love Me. Hate Me. Fuck Me. Free Me. dropped. Eddie's lyrics filled to the brim with seething disdain, heavy with angst. The album found its target audience faster than anyone had expected, launching Corroded Coffin from an opener to a headliner in only a few months.

The collective internet started raiding his past like the trash heap it was, and that’s when the interviews started. He was forced to defend his sexuality, his adoption, his shitty parents. Answering questions at the whims of anyone with internet access. Eddie held the rage like a lifeline, letting it fuel his shows and lace his words.

He'd started showing up high to interviews. Even though he’s six months sober now, he’s never gone back and watched them, too afraid of what he’d find. He knows questions about his exes came up a few times. He can't remember what his answers were. Probably doesn't want to, with how his younger fans reacted.

That doesn’t stop Nancy and she doesn’t sugar coat it for him. She tells him paparazzi and angry fans camped outside Steve's apartment building for weeks after Eddie mentioned Steve's full name in a drunken livestream. They were served an eviction notice a week after a fan threw a milkshake at Robin as she tried to open the front door. Steve was able to pull her inside, but his appearance only incensed the crowd into vandalizing their building. Apparently people didn’t take kindly to the idea of Steve dating a woman, proof that he only used Eddie as some sort of queer experiment. Like they hadn’t been together for almost eight years.

Moving out required coordination and a decoy moving van, like something out of a goddamn heist movie. According to Nancy, that’s exactly what it was. They packed up their things for the second time, and were out within twenty-four hours. The kids snuck the two through the back in the dead of night, with Nancy dressed as Robin and Jonathan as Steve leaving out the front to distract the crowd.

Looking back, he can’t believe how naive he’d been to think there’d be no real-world consequences. Eddie used the album as an opportunity to purge himself of overwhelming emotion and pour them into the music, like he always did. He indulged in the recurring fantasy of Steve holed up in his bedroom, brooding and crying while listening to Eddie’s songs over and over again. But he never thought for a second he’d be putting Steve in actual danger, let alone Robin or anyone else.

Nancy says that’s when they moved into her and Jonathan’s guest bedroom for two months. It was awkward at best, and difficult at worst. Steve would walk in on Nancy and Jonathan in the middle of a conversation about Eddie, or catch them watching interview clips. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, Steve seemed to see right through her.

“Eddie,” Nancy sighs, wiping a stray tear from her eye, “I don’t think you understand how hard it was on everyone, not just Steve. You didn’t seem to care what we had to say, and when you called, you’d never ask about us. You only ever talked about yourself. All we heard about was Metal Munson, then had to watch Steve struggle with it all. It just– we didn’t know what to do.”

It took him longer than it should have to notice, since he didn’t call often. He was too relieved to care about the lack of messages or missed calls, sick of everyone constantly begging him to slow down. They’d see him online at some party or another, dancing next to some boy he’d never remember or drinking bottles on top of bars. Every new viral video brought a wave of concerned phone calls from Nancy and his friends. So really, it’s no surprise at all that he didn’t notice the change right away.

Because if Nancy’s timing is right, the month Steve and Robin moved in was when his family started blocking all contact with him.

~~~

ao3 (Homesick)

Alright turns out I'm terrible with exposition so this chapter is taking me FOREVER! I'm relatively happy with this part though so I'm ready to share. So I'm breaking it into bite sized pieces

Ooooo ALSO I started uploading all of A Desperate Fool to ao3 under the series Homesick. I'm going for full chapter updates on ao3 and little snippet updates here, so Tumblr might be just slightly ahead (never far though). Not sure what the rules are for marking the fic Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson when they never interact, and Steve isn't even there, even though that's what the whole fic is about. Idk I tried to make it clear!

I've talked about how the first chapter with Robin was supposed to be a one-off. But the overall concept was born from the song If It Means A Lot To You by A Day To Remember. That song is gut wrenching, so hopefully my fic is too!

Part 6

Tag List!!!

@sadisticaltarts @5ammi90 @blacklegsanji21

#a desperate fool #heavy exposition like damn did this suck to write #modern au #rock star eddie munson #normal guy steve harrington #break up fic #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #eddie is nancy's half brother #and mike's too obv but we aren't there yet #hurt/comfort #heavy angst #steddie breakup #steddie #queeniewritesstories

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 2 months ago

Text

Falling Into Place

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Word count: 1k

Pairning: Aaron Hotchner x Agent!reader

Summary: After a difficult case leads Y/n and Hotch to share a hotel room, an unexpected moment of intimacy unfolds when they wake up with Y/n nestled in Hotch's arms

______________________________________________________________

A few weeks had passed since the soccer game, and the dynamic between you and Hotch remained mostly the same—professional, with those brief moments of warmth that neither of you ever dared to fully acknowledge. You told yourself that was for the best. There was no way you could risk letting your feelings grow, no matter how much you caught yourself thinking about him, especially when you were both working so closely on cases.

And then, this case came.

It was a hard one. The kind that weighed heavy on everyone’s shoulders. A series of brutal murders in a small town that had been tearing apart families, and the emotional toll had already left the team weary. By the time you all arrived at the hotel, exhausted from the day, you just wanted to collapse and sleep off the weight of it all.

But there was a hitch—the hotel was short on rooms. A large convention was in town, and when you all arrived to check-in, it became painfully obvious that there weren’t enough rooms for everyone to have their own.

Rossi, in his usual charming manner, secured his own room before anyone else could even blink, leaving the rest of you to share. JJ and Emily paired off immediately, as did Reid and Morgan, leaving you and Hotch to share the last room.

The tension was palpable as the two of you made your way down the hall to the room. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust each other—you were professionals, after all—but there was something undeniably awkward about the situation. You could feel Hotch’s presence next to you, the unspoken tension growing as you both remained silent.

When you opened the door and stepped inside, your heart dropped. One bed. Of course, there was only one bed.

Hotch stood next to you, his eyes scanning the room with the same calm, controlled expression he always wore, but you noticed the subtle shift in his posture. He was tense. As were you.

“Well,” you started, trying to lighten the mood, “this could be worse, right?”

He glanced at you, his lips pressing into a thin line before he nodded. “We’ll manage.”

You both called your kids, as usual. Hotch checked in with Jack, and you had your nightly conversation with Ava. It helped ease some of the awkwardness, grounding you both in the reality that you were parents, just trying to make it through the night like any other.

But when bedtime came, Hotch didn’t even hesitate. Grabbing one of the blankets and a pillow, he moved toward the floor, spreading it out at the foot of the bed.

You stared at him, frowning. “Hotch, what are you doing?”

He looked up at you, his face still perfectly composed, though there was a hint of discomfort in his eyes. “I’ll sleep here. I don’t want to make this… uncomfortable for you.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, crossing your arms as you stared down at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he said simply, starting to settle down as if this were perfectly normal.

You took a step closer, shaking your head. “We’re both adults, Aaron. We can share the bed. You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

His eyes flicked up to yours, and for the first time that evening, you saw the hesitation in them. There was something else there too—something he wasn’t saying. But whatever it was, he nodded slowly, standing up again.

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure,” you replied, moving toward the bed and pulling back the covers. “Trust me, it’s fine.”

He hesitated for another moment before finally relenting, slipping under the covers on his side of the bed. You settled in on the other side, keeping a respectful distance between you. The tension in the air was thick, but you forced yourself to relax, closing your eyes and focusing on the soft sounds of the night outside.

The silence stretched between you both, the only sound the occasional shuffle as you adjusted on your respective sides of the bed. Eventually, exhaustion overtook you, and you drifted off, lulled by the warmth of the blankets and the steady rhythm of Hotch’s breathing beside you.

When you woke up, it took you a moment to realize what had happened.

You were no longer on your side of the bed. Instead, you were nestled against Hotch’s chest, his arm draped protectively around you, your body curled up in his embrace. His warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, you didn’t want to move. It was… comforting. Safe.

But then the reality of the situation hit you, and you froze.

You were the little spoon. In Aaron Hotchner’s arms.

Before you could react, you felt him stir behind you. His body shifted, and his arm tensed around you as he woke up, clearly realizing the same thing at the same time.

“Y/n,” his voice was rough from sleep, low and gravelly in your ear. “I—”

You quickly pulled away, rolling onto your back and putting some distance between the two of you. Your heart raced, but you forced a nervous laugh, trying to brush off the awkwardness of the moment.

“I, uh… guess we got a little too comfortable,” you said, your voice lighter than you felt.

Hotch sat up slightly, rubbing a hand over his face, clearly trying to compose himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving a hand. “Really. We were both asleep. These things happen.”

But the truth was, your heart was still pounding. The feel of his arms around you had been… nice. Too nice. And from the look on his face, it seemed like he wasn’t entirely unaffected either.

For a moment, you both sat there in silence, the weight of what had just happened hanging between you. Then, Hotch cleared his throat, standing up and running a hand through his hair, as if he was trying to shake off the tension.

“I’ll, uh… go grab some coffee,” he said, clearly needing an excuse to leave the room for a minute.

You nodded, watching him as he made a hasty exit. Once the door closed behind him, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, leaning back against the pillows as your mind raced.

What just happened?

And why, despite the awkwardness, did part of you wish it hadn’t ended so quickly?

#reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #david rossi #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan #penelope garcia #jenifer jareau #jack hotchner #bau team

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jenna-ortega · 1 year ago

Text

grey november

vertigo act iii

pairing - joel miller x female reader word count - 4.1k warnings - angst, pinv, meanish joel, tommy being a golden retriever, kissing, joel is stupid as always but he redeems himself, also fluffy joel a/n: hello all! hope you like this chapter! it proved to be difficult, since i hate writing fluff but lowkey it's there. let me know how you like it, and if you have any ideas for what you want to see next..i may or may not heed that advice ;)

SUMMARY: you and joel speak about what you saw, and you've decided you need time. needing time being you running and hiding from joel every chance you get. that is...until he catches you at thanksgiving. can you forgive him for what you think he's done? joel sure hopes so.

previous chapter - series masterlist

series playlist by the wonderful @lovers-liability

"Didn't expect to find you here," Joel muttered, crossing his arms. You turned off the faucet, swallowing hard before meeting his gaze. "I needed a moment," you replied, your voice steady but laced with unease. "A moment, huh?" Joel scoffed, his tone cutting through the air. "Funny how you seem to need a moment every time we're in the same room lately." You averted your eyes, the memories of your last conversation with Joel resurfacing. "What are you even doing here, anyway?" Joel continued, his frustration palpable. "Tommy invited me."

You had fallen for Joel Miller, and now you had to deal with that. You had to deal with the suffering only someone who had power over you could cause. Your body aches as you’ve spent countless nights awake, wondering what this suffering was supposed to mean. Does it make you stronger? Does it thicken your skin? Is suffering always meant to be brushed aside as a means of growth? Suffering has no glorious purpose. It only hurts.

It takes courage to lift your bones from your bed, to face the same pain you’ve been feeling through every simmering sun, and every crested moon. A man can do this to a person? You think to yourself. You want to ask him why, you want to shout at him, and beat at his chest. You want to hug him and kiss him all at the same time. Fall to the feet of the one who broke you and look for the healing you desperately needed. You feel yourself changing as the leaves start to change outside…is it November already? Are we bound to repeat the same cycles until even after the end of times?

Your body on autopilot as you walk to your shower, making sure the heat of the water burns to the touch. You need to boil your skin clean. Need to wash away any piece of skin that he once touched. Scrubbing yourself clean of him physically.

You hear cells take 7 years to regenerate.

Would it take that long to be a body Joel has never known?

—

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across a quiet jackson, you found yourself perched on the edge of your steps. Feeling the cool air hit your cheeks as you try to breathe through your heavy chest. Grappling with a tangle of emotions.

Soft footsteps echoed a few feet from you, your body stilled, and when you lifted your head, there stood Joel, the man who had left a trail of heartache in his wake.

Joel’s eyes reflected a mixture of remorse and determination as he began to speak. The wind seemed to hold its breath as you waited for him to start, too confused and numb to begin to hold the weight of what this conversation meant.

“Hi,” Joel clenched his fists, guilt etched on his face.

You scoffed

“Hey.”

Joel shifted uncomfortably, his gaze unable to meet yours. The air felt charged with tension as you faced Joel, your eyes reflecting the storm within.

“I-I don’t know where to start,”

“Try starting with why the hell you’re at my doorstep. And then end it with you getting the fuck off my doorstep.” your teeth clenched, spitting attitude at Joel.

You began to walk away from him, trying to go back inside. You’re upset. Upset Joel didn’t stay away longer. You needed time to forget this, you needed to tell yourself he wasn’t real. You made him up, and now you’re back to the real world.

Joel stood there, frustration apparent on his face as he tried to reach out to you, who was briskly walking away. Joel grabbed your elbow, pulling you back to him, looking down at you with his eyebrows furrowed,

“Please, just hear me out. I'm trying to apologize."

You glanced up at him, eyes cold, but stopped reluctantly. Pulling your arm from him and crossing them.

"You can't just apologize your way out of this mess."

"I get it, I messed up. But walking away won't solve anything. Can we at least talk about it?"

You sighed, patience wearing thin.

“What is there to say?”, you shook your head in defeat

Joel ran a hand through his disheveled hair, finally not avoiding your gaze.

"I don’t know why she was there. I threw her out as soon as you left." his voice was strained, pleading to you.

A heavy silence settled between you two, until you spoke again, tone cold.

"I need time to think. Leave."

Joel nodded, sighing heavily, and turned to leave. As he reached the bottom step, an unexpected surge of anger consumed him. The weight of his guilt transformed into the Joel who destroys, and he turned back to face you.

"I'm sorry, alright? But you don't get to play the victim here. You have your faults too," he spat.

“Excuse me?” your nostrils flared, eyes flashed with indignation. "My faults?”

You both were about to put on a show for anyone who dared come near you two.

“Don’t act like it’s not normal for her to possibly be in my house. Remember what we did to her. Remember what you asked me for.”

Tears welled in your eyes, not believing what you’re hearing, you raised your hand to Joel, watching his head swing sideways as your palm landed hard across his face.

“Fuck you.”

It happened fast. He rushed your body back into your house, slamming the door shut behind him before he took his place back in your face. Holding both your wrists against the wall behind you, caging you into his body as his nose was practically against yours, looking deeply in your eyes as you’re both panting.

“You were the one that started this.” he picks your wrists up and slams them back against the wall, earning a whimper from you, raising his voice a little louder, “You don’t get to act like a brat when your actions have consequences.”

He lets go of your hands, and you begin to rub them furiously to try and dissipate the pain.

“Listen,” his demeanor is calm again, but you shrivel up against the wall to make yourself as small as possible. Feeling yourself begin to sink to the floor, you remain silent.

You sat on the floor, eyes downcast and silent. The weight of the argument lingered, suffocating the room. Joel took a deep breath, the gravity of his words settling on him like an anchor. He approached you cautiously.

He said your name, his voice low and remorseful, "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

You remained silent, gaze fixed on your hands. Joel sighed, a mix of frustration and guilt gnawing at him.

“I hate that we're both feeling like this," he pleaded.

You nodded slowly, and he lifted you up from the floor, both of you retreating to a quieter corner of the room, away from the remnants of your argument near your front door.

“I’ve been an asshole. Feels like I've said this all before to you,” he breathes out an airy laugh, you don’t budge.

He noticed your unease, your quiet demeanor signaling a vulnerability he had never intended to expose.

“How ‘bout we take a break from all this.”

You yearned for him even after it all. You desire things patterned to always destroy you in the end.

“Yeah, I-, I don’t think I'm ready to talk about us.” you stuttered out, afraid to make eye contact with him. Afraid if you did all your wishes from early to fall at the feet of the thing responsible for the collapse might come true.

Joel nodded, sucking in a breathe,

“Okay.”

—

There was a warm glow casted over the horse stables as you worked diligently, pitchfork in hand, cleaning out the stalls. The familiar sounds of horses neighing and hooves against straw filled the air. Your focus was on Sparkle, a gentle black mare with a shimmering coat that seemed to live up to her name.

As you worked, the rhythmic scraping of the pitchfork against the straw was interrupted by a light voice behind you. "Hey there! How's it going?"

Turning around, you were met with the smiling face of Maria, one of the many important people on Jacksons committee. "Hey, Maria! Just another day in the stables, you know," you replied, wiping a bit of sweat from your brow.

She leaned against the stall door, eyeing Sparkle with admiration. "Sparkle's looking as beautiful as ever. You really have a way with her."

You grinned, patting Sparkle's side gently. "Yeah, she's a sweetheart. Just needs a little extra care, don't you, girl?"

Maria chuckled, then her expression turned curious. "By the way, I haven't seen you at the bar lately. Everything okay?"

You paused, glancing at the pitchfork in your hand. "Oh, you know, just been here. Busy."

Maria tilted her head, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Busy, or avoiding the usual crowd?"

You chuckled, feeling a hint of embarrassment. "Maybe a bit of both. Sometimes, I think I'm too old to still be working there."

She nodded, understanding. "Fair enough. But you can't escape the social scene forever, you know. We miss having you around."

You sighed, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "I'll make an appearance soon, I promise. Just got a lot on my plate right now."

"Well, whenever you're ready, we'll be at the bar, waiting for you," Maria said with a friendly wink.

She leaves, and you’re left alone. The chatter is constantly getting old for you, you want to be left to your own devices. You want people to stop caring about where you are, where you’ve been, and where you’re going. You need to be invisible. You need to make yourself something Joel forgets.

You were finishing up your early morning stable duties, and a gentle breeze carried the familiar scent of hay and warm animal fur. You found yourself behind the sturdy door of one of the stalls, placing your tools in a bucket filled with lukewarm water. The horses startle when they hear the opening of stable doors before you, and you froze. Turning quickly to see him.

fuck. Shit.

You duck, hoping he hadn’t caught your eye behind the thin door of the stall.

As Joel approached, you couldn't resist the urge to observe him unnoticed. His confident stride and the set of his jaw spoke of a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. You crouched down slightly, peering through a small gap in the door, attempting to stay hidden.

Joel, engrossed in the routine of preparing his horse, seemed to sense your presence. His gaze flickered in your direction, and for a moment, you held your breath. However, his expression remained unreadable, and he continued his tasks as if he hadn't noticed.

The rhythmic sounds of grooming and the soft noises of the horses filled the air. You couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervous energy.

After a few moments, Joel finished tending to his horse and turned to leave the stable. As he passed your hiding spot, his eyes met yours for the briefest moment. There was a subtle acknowledgment in his gaze, one of hurt and one of anger.

Joel walked away without a word, and you emerged from your hiding spot, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anguish. If this is how you would now have to live your days in Jackson, you don’t know how much longer you would survive.

—

It’s been 21 days.

The warm aroma of roasted turkey filled the air, and the laughter of friends and miller family fun echoed through the spacious dining room. However, for you, the atmosphere was anything but festive. Being at the miller’s thanksgiving was anything but relaxing.

It’s been 21 days since you’ve had to endure Joel Miller.

You’ve done your best to avoid him, not seeing him at all, wondering if he knew better than to show up. Knowing you had Tommy to protect you, knowing everyone heard what he did to Vanessa, the whole town talked. And Tommy invited everyone to his thanksgiving. Joel would be brave to show his face, but you’ve always known him as anything but someone who’s scared to cause a little bit of trouble.

It’s been 21 days since you’ve been avoiding Joel Miller.

You stopped working at the bar, not for him, but because you knew he’d try and find you there. Knew it wasn’t something you wanted to do long term, and this just gave you an excuse to try something else. Now, you clean the stables bright and early, lucky to also avoid Joel when he picks up his horse every now and again for patrols. Your walks home are filled with a deep set regret for everything. Should you have heard him out? No. You knew better. You knew what kind of man he was, and would continue to be. You fight with yourself on it everyday, and your heart stops as you hear it,

It’s been 21 days since you heard his laugh. You won’t get to call it 22 days, and when you realize it’s him, you don’t look back. Pacing past the living room and to Tommy’s small bathroom. Your eyes bloodshot from too much shitty pinot noir.

—

The sound of the Thanksgiving celebration echoed through the Miller residence, but in the quiet refuge of the bathroom.

You were just splashing some water on your face, attempting to compose yourself amidst the chaos, when the door creaked open, revealing Joel Miller, his eyes narrowing as they met yours in the mirror.

"Didn't expect to find you here," Joel muttered, crossing his arms.

You turned off the faucet, swallowing hard before meeting his gaze. "I needed a moment," you replied, your voice steady but laced with unease.

"A moment, huh?" Joel scoffed, his tone cutting through the air.

"Funny how you seem to need a moment every time we're in the same room lately."

You averted your eyes, the memories of your last conversation with Joel resurfacing. The heated words, the accusations, and the unresolved tension had left a bitter taste that lingered.

"What are you even doing here, anyway?" Joel continued, his frustration palpable.

"Tommy invited me," you said, attempting to keep your voice level. "I'm not here to ruin your family dinner, Joel."

He took a step closer, his gaze intense. "Ruining it? You already did that weeks ago."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. "Joel, can we not do this right now? It's Thanksgiving, for God's sake."

"Thanksgiving?" he scoffed again. "A lot to be thankful for, right? Like the way you disappeared without a word."

You clenched your fists, the guilt and frustration mounting. "It wasn't like that, Joel. You know it's complicated."

"Complicated? You think I don't get it?" he snapped, his voice rising. "But that doesn't excuse shutting me out completely."

Silence hung between you like a heavy fog, the distance growing even in the confined space of the bathroom. The distant laughter and chatter from the dinner table seemed a world away.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the only sound the distant laughter and music from inside. Joel broke the quiet, his voice softer than before.

"I didn't want things to end like this, you know?" he admitted, running a hand through his hair.

"Me neither," you replied, avoiding eye contact.

Joel's jaw clenched, and he looked away, frustration etched across his face. The distance between you felt insurmountable,

He stepped closer, his hand finding yours. "I've been a jerk, haven't I?" he took his olive branch moment, hoping you would extend a white flag as well.

And in that moment, his dark eyes caught yours, and your heart dropped. You wanted your Joel back, you wanted to collapse and give up whatever game you were playing. You needed him, you wanted him.

It’s been 21 days too long without Joel Miller,

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Maybe a little."

Joel chuckled, a hint of relief in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let things get this far."

"And I should have communicated better," you admitted, squeezing his hand.

He nodded, a sincerity in his gaze. "Can we start over? Forget the fights and just... be us again?"

You smiled, feeling the weight lifting. "I'd like that."

"So, what now?" Joel asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

You smirked. "Well, I was thinking we could be lovey-dovey in the bathroom."

He laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet room. "Lovey-dovey, huh?"

"Yeah," you teased, "like in the good old days."

Joel tilted his head, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “I wouldn’t call what we do in bathrooms lovey-dovey, darlin’.” his hand wraps in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, gently suckling a bruise there,

“But I’ll warn you,” his warm and wet breath spread throughout your neck as he smiles against your skin,

“I think I need to make this filthy mouth of yours beg, and never talk back to me again.”

You hummed in approval, moaning silently, “Impossible.” you teased,

Joel let go of your hair, hands now sliding down your body and giving your hips a bruising grip to remember,

“Always so mouthy, baby girl. Can’t be now with the town downstairs cutting the stuffing,” he bites his bottom lip, quickly swatting at your ass, a loud smack echoing off the walls as you squeal in surprise,

You shot him a quick glance, your usual sarcastic retort momentarily absent. Instead, you shrugged, feigning innocence.

"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" Joel chuckled,

You shot him a mock glare, finally finding your voice. "Very funny, Joel. I can be quiet if I want to."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his eyes. "Sure, but that requires a well-behaved version of yourself."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the back of Joel’s head, your hands locked in his hair–

"I can be well-behaved when I want to be."

Joel smirked, pushing your bodies closer. "And do you want to be right now?"

You giggle slightly, nodding your head “no” slowly,

—

You both have to be really, really quiet. Moving from the bathroom into a room that looks alot like..shit. This is Tommy’s bedroom.

“Really..” you squint, not having much time to speak as Joel is already pushing you back onto the queen sized bed behind you,

“Fucking me in your brothers bed?” you smile into the kisses Joel has been smothering you with, sucking your bottom lip as he pulls away from you, lifting his shirt up and off of his toned body.

“Someones gotta get some in here.” he jokes, smirking down at you as he takes his belt off quickly,

Joel goes back to devouring you, pulling your brown dress up to lay at your waist, exposing your clothed cunt to him. His eyes go darker as he pulls your legs apart so easily, sucking in air as he tilts his head to look at you. His permanent scowl plastered on his face as he focused in on your pussy.

“Baby,” he puts one of your legs down as he uses his thumb to rub against where your clit is beneath your underwear. His palm against your mound as he does so.

You moan out, squirming in his grasp, “Joel, I missed you,” you whine,

Joel leaned over, his bulge met your core as he began kissing you against. Both your moans being captured by each other's mouths. Dry humping each other in the process,

Confidence suddenly burst inside of you, holding his shoulders as you pushed your hips up as hard as you could, moving them in circular motion, hearing a small groan escape from Joel’s lips,

“Fuck” he groans in your ear,

“Gonna take this fuckin’ i give you?” he questioned rhetorically, because you didn’t get a say on whether you were taking it or not.

Pushing himself off of you, he now towered over you. Leaving you on your back with your legs spread open,

“Take these off, now” Joel pulled at the top of your panties, snapping them against your skin harshly.

You obeyed quickly, while watching him release himself, a long thick cock hanging out of his pants, warranting a gasp from you, feeling your own juices flow from you, staining the bedding beneath you,

Your reaction seemed to satisfy Joel, who was watching you as if you were prey,

“I want you. I want you right now.” his voice deep, dripping with lust as he walked back to you, grabbing your legs and dragging you to the edge of the bed, hearing you squeak as he did so.

He flipped you over, and your ass was up in the air, your entrance glistening for him, he couldn’t help himself, and that’s when you jumped forward screaming loudly as you felt a stinging sensation on your cunt. Joel’s hand vibrating off of the skin there,

“Not so quiet after all, honey?” he mocked you, rubbing anything that leaked from you back on your clit, you moaned lowly, soon turning it into a loud moan as you felt the thick head of his cock rub against you, teasing your entrance, dipping the tip in, causing you to grip the navy blue sheets beneath you, moving up with each tease.

“Don’t run from me.” he stated gruffly, and you turned to look at him, his wavy locks falling beside his face, his eyes caught yours, winking as he pushed inside of you, stretching you far enough to feel as if your insides were burning. “F-fuckOH” he was enjoying the way your cunt spazzed around him, feeling his cock enlarge even more at the way you pulsed for him,

Joel began thrusting harder, pushing your body forward with every hard snap of his hips, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Your body was on fire, feeling your heart sink as he bottomed out inside of you. With every thrust he tore into you further. Your body invites him in more as you feel yourself drown him with your cum, his cock becoming adjusted to you, taking advantage of every shake and squeeze.

“Joel–, fuck, faster,--” you felt your feet levitate off he ground, him holding your hold bottom half up as he obeyed your request, laughing at your whimpers. Your feet now dangling as he manhandles your body, fucking down into you as he grunts, his balls hitting against your clit and causing you to spasm even harder around him.

“Take it, baby.” his hips snapped harder into you, the room filled with panting and the loud clapping of your skin against his, moaning into the bed as you felt your release coming closer as he reached around you to rub your clit, moaning with you as you began letting go for him, feeling something inside of you begin to snap, you tried grabbing behind you, but he pulled your hand against your back, pushing your body further into the cushion as your pussy convulsed, and you came on him, shaking as he walked you through you orgasm,

“Cum around me just like that.”

“Darlin’ you feel so good, you’re doing so well.”

“Your cunts meant to take it like this.”

Joel’s low voice barely noticed as your ears rang from how hard you had cum. Joel following after shortly,

“Shit. Shit.”

“S–Shit, so, fucking good.” Screaming your name as he produced enough cum to cover your cunt and your ass entirely.

You were panting heavy as he fell on top of you, completely fucked out as his limp dick sat against your back. Joel is still in bliss, moving your hair away from the back of your neck and kissing along it, slightly humming into your glistening skin.

His lips only leave your skin to whisper to you in his daze,

“ s’ gonna be pissed if he finds out what happened here.”

You both laugh at the uncomfortable reality of this. You both will eventually have to get up and face the crowd. But for just a few more moments, you let yourself feel the comfort of being smothered under Joel’s body.

—

It’s been 21 minutes.

The door creaked open, and you and Joel stepped out of the bedroom, both wearing wide grins that couldn't be contained. The sound of Thanksgiving chatter from downstairs seemed muffled in comparison to the joy that radiated between you two.

As you descended the stairs, hand in hand, Tommy looked up from the crowded living room. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of your shared happiness.

"What's got you two looking so... giddy?" Tommy asked, a curious smile playing on his lips.

Joel chuckled, exchanging a knowing glance with you. "Oh, you know, just enjoying some quiet time away from Bill's stories."

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's all?"

You couldn't help but giggle, feeling the need to share your newfound joy. "Well, we might've had a little heart-to-heart. It's Thanksgiving, after all."

Tommy's eyes widened, a sly grin forming. "A heart-to-heart, huh?”

Joel laughed, playfully nudging you.

Tommy continued to scrutinize you both, but his teasing demeanor softened. "Well, as long as you're happy." you both smiled at him,

“And as long as it wasn’t in my room.”

You exchanged a glance with Joel, your smiles widening.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller x you #frankie morales #din djarin

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demonsanddemogorgons · 11 months ago

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Most Precious Gift - A Joseph Quinn Christmas One-Shot

Just a little Christmas blurb I came up with. Enjoy.

It's almost Christmas and you just aren't in the mood for it without Joe around.

Word Count: 2k

18+ for language and mild/implied smut

It was the day before Christmas Eve, and you were at home getting dressed for your ultrasound shift at the hospital. Joe had been away for about a month for filming his new movie. You missed him beyond description, but you knew he still had work left to do. You walked through the kitchen to your entryway to put your shoes on, completely ignoring the undecorated state of your house. There was no point in decorating since Joe couldn’t be there to enjoy it with you. Your friends kept asking what you were doing for Christmas, and you were tired of responding with I don’t know, probably just stay home. They encouraged you to fly to where you grew up to be with your family since Joe wasn’t home, but you just weren’t feeling it. Spending the holidays without him just didn’t feel right, even if you were still with people you loved. You couldn’t wait for it all to be over so everyone’s cheer would stop making you want to vomit. Scrooge wasn’t half bad; he just wanted everyone to shut up about how happy they were. Holly Jolly was waaaaaay on the other side of the emotional spectrum from where you were.

You headed out to your car and began the drive to work, losing focus, wondering how Joe was doing, what he was doing right now in Malta, how filming was coming along. He hadn’t called or texted in two days; you tried not to be upset about it because you knew he was busy, and it was difficult with time changes. It was just hard being alone for so long and so close to Christmas.

You got to work and tried distracting yourself by indulging in it. If a patient arrived, you took them for their scan before a coworker even had a chance to get out of their chair. After a few hours of this, they began to notice.

“You’ve done like double the number of patients today that is typical, and we haven’t done anything. Take it easy, there’s three of us here today. You don’t need to overwhelm yourself,” your coworker Maddie said to you. You let your lips turn up into a small, not very reassuring smile.

“I’m just trying to focus on something else besides Joe,” you replied, feeling tears well up in your eyes and trying to hold them back.

“I’m sorry,” she said, placing her hand on your shoulder. “Being apart is never easy, but you don’t have to be alone. I’m having a Christmas Eve party tomorrow night. Why don’t you come over? I’m planning drinking games,” she smirked, nudging you with a giggle.

"I really appreciate that, Maddie, but I’m just not feeling it this year. I’d rather just stay on my couch and pretend it’s any other normal day.”

“Ignoring something doesn’t make it go away,” she said, her tone changing. You knew she was trying to be supportive, but you were getting that from everyone lately, and you were a bit over it. You were too emotionally disconnected at this point for anything to make an impact. You nodded and turned back to the computer to finish your paperwork on your last patient, trying to politely signal to her that the conversation was over. “Please let me do the next one. I really don’t want the supervisor asking why you did way more than the rest of us today,” she said as she walked back over to her chair, realizing you just needed left alone in your element.

You finished out your shift after trying to let Maddie and Lexie share some of the work, regardless of your apprehension.

“If you change your mind, the party is at 6 tomorrow at my place,” Maddie said as you were gathering your things and putting your coat on.

“Thanks,” you said somberly. You did appreciate her efforts deep down; it was nice to have someone to look out for you.

You headed home, eager to put on your fuzzy pajamas, fix yourself a cup of hot cocoa and plant your ass on the couch for the next two days. When you pulled into your driveway, your eyes were drawn to the front window where you could see twinkling lights. Upon looking closer, you saw your Christmas tree decorated and lit.

“What the...” you said out loud to yourself, trailing off. What? Who? How? You climbed out of your car and headed towards the door. Once getting inside, you took your shoes off on the welcome mat in the entry way and hung your coat on the hook, making your way into the kitchen. It was decorated with Christmas knick-knacks and tea towels – all kinds of things you had packed away in the basement and didn’t bother to get out this year. You passed through to the living room, seeing the Christmas tree decorated and lit, an evergreen garland lying out over the fireplace mantle with lights strung throughout it, stockings hanging, more knick-knacks set out, a Christmas blanket laid neatly on back of the couch, the works. Your heart swelled at the sight; you could feel that familiar feeling you normally got during the Christmas season washing warmth over you. But who-

Just then in your peripheral vision, you saw a figure pass into the room through the doorway beside the Christmas tree from the stairway. Your eyes changed focus to see Joe standing there, dressed in a Christmas sweater and jeans. It took you a minute to process what you were seeing so you were frozen, staring for a moment as your eyes widened.

“J-Joe?” was all you could muster out.

“Hey, lovey,” he said, making his way closer to you. He put his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. You rested your head on his chest, pressing your face into him as he hugged you. Okay, he really is here. I can touch him, feel him, smell him. You pulled away and looked up into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes.

“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you were filming.”

He put his hand on your cheek and brushed his thumb along it.

“We got some things done ahead of schedule, so they gave us a break for the holiday,” he responded quietly and soothingly, looking down into your eyes with the most loving look.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re actually here,” you said with a giggle.

“Maybe this will help then, yeah?” he said with a smirk as he leaned in and put his lips on yours. Fireworks exploded in your head. You’d missed him so much, and every time he kissed you felt like the first time. Your lips parted slightly to allow his tongue to enter, running along your bottom lip. You hummed in response, moving your arms up to be around his neck and pull him closer as your lips worked in unison. You pulled away slowly and leaned your forehead against his.

“God, I’ve missed that,” you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. He chuckled, rubbing his hands on your lower back as he held you close.

“I’ve missed you so much, too, darling.”

You pulled back a little to take another look at your freshly decorated house.

“Did you do all of this?” you asked even though you already knew the answer.

“Of course I did, baby. You love Christmas, why didn’t you decorate?”

You sighed and put your hands on his forearms, running your thumbs over them lovingly.

“I couldn’t, not without you. I hate celebrating knowing you’re working and can’t be here to enjoy it with me.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead.

“I’m here now, love. I was hoping to catch you before you went to work, but my flight got delayed. I arrived not long after you left and saw the house undecorated. It made me so sad, darling; I know how much you love it to be. So, I decided to surprise you.”

You smiled up at him and pulled him in for another hug.

“Thank you. God, I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything, my love. And this isn’t the whole surprise.”

You pulled out of the hug and looked up at him in confusion.

“C’mere,” he said, dragging you to the kitchen pantry. He opened the door to show ingredients for cookies. “I thought we could spend the day together tomorrow baking Christmas cookies. I got everything for snickerdoodles, peanut butter cookies, those ones you like with the chocolate kiss in the middle. And for tonight, I got out the electric blanket and some chocolate covered pretzels. I’ll make up some hot cocoa, and we can watch Rudolph and Frosty together.”

Like the Grinch, you could feel your heart growing three sizes at his words. He was bringing the Christmas excitement back into you.

“Joe, that sounds perfect.” You pulled him in for another tender kiss. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

“I love you so much, and I’m so glad you’re home. That’s the best Christmas present I could have ever asked for.”

“I love you, too, darling.”

You looked up at him with a smirk.

“I have to be honest, Joe. I had a Christmas surprise put away for you that I didn’t expect to need, but now that you’re home...” you trailed off as he looked at you with a confused face. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll meet you in the living room.”

“Alright, love.” Joe reluctantly headed for the couch while you ran upstairs. What could she possibly be doing? You were gone for over five minutes when he began to wonder what was going on. He walked over to the bottom of the stairs and looked up.

“Darling? You alright?” he called.

“Yeah,” your voice echoed from the bedroom. “Almost done.”

Joe stood there confused, but his attention was quickly caught by you standing at the top of the stairs, dressed in a red bra and panties with white fluffy borders under an open red silk wrap, matching thigh high socks, and a Santa hat. You’d gotten a Christmas lingerie set to wear for him but didn’t expect to be using in this year since he wasn’t supposed to be home. His mouth fell open a little and his eyes widened as he watched you make your way down the stairs. Once you got to the second step from the bottom, he stood in front of you and looked up at you, as if to worship you, while reaching for you. He wrapped his arms around your thighs under your butt and lifted you to him. You smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and looked down at him. He placed kisses on your collarbone and chest.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your skin as he kissed, making you shiver. He was reacting exactly how you’d hoped he would. “Darling, I’d like to live to make it to Christmas,” he joked, earning a giggle from you.

“I don’t know, I think you’ll feel pretty alive after this,” you smirked, leaning down to kiss him.

He carried you back to the living room, his lips continuing their work on yours. He pulled away to throw you on your back onto the couch, and climbed down so he was hovering over you.

“I’ve been such a good boy,” he said softly, earning a smile and a giggle from you as he began kissing down your body, unwrapping his most precious gift with extreme care.

My Master List

The two cups of hot cocoa he had made while you were upstairs sat forgotten on the end table as red fabric was tossed onto the floor. Joe managed to bring the Christmas warmth and spirit back into you in more ways than one. You were truly a different person when he was around; he made you better in every aspect – sight, thoughts, actions. You didn’t need gifts to feel loved and appreciated. Joe was good at making you feel that way all on his own. He was the best gift you could have ever received, for any holiday.

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zoyaofthegardvn · 2 years ago

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Clingy

In which reader overhears Mor say something not too nice about her... miscommunication enuses!

A/N: Just because I wanted to write some angst! Not too much, though, lol, I only write happy endings on this blog! :)

CW: None! Angst to fluff!

The day had been long, and tiring. You worked at a school in the Night Court, specifically with children ages 5-10. Winter Solstice was approaching, and today was the last day before school was out for a bit of a break. Little ones were so, so antsy about the holiday, and it didn't help that snow had been coming down fast and hard all day, increasing the anxiousness to be released for the break. It was hard to wrangle them all and get them to pay attention to the day's lesson, because truly, you didn't want to spoil their fun.

But finally, the day was over. The children were home with their families for a few weeks, likely already out enjoying the winter wonderland in the glittering Velaris. As beautiful as you thought it was, all you really wanted was to be back home with your mate, wrapped up under the blankets together.

First, though, you had to meet her at the River House, where you know she had been meeting with other members of the Inner Circle to discuss an upcoming visit to the Court of Nightmares. It was only Feyre, Nesta, and Rhys, as Cassian, Amren, and Azriel were all on other diplomatic trips, preparing for the large gathering planned for the upcoming new year.

After winnowing to the front yard, you trudged through the thick snow, not bothering to knock before entering the large estate. It was quiet, Nyx likely occupied with Elain while the others conversed. You could hear their muffled voices coming from the center of the house, where Rhys' office was located.

You weren't trying to be especially quiet, but you also hadn't announced your arrival, either.

The doors to his office were closed, dim light seeping from underneath. As you got closer, you heard someone, maybe Feyre, mention your name.

This, of course, grabbed your attention, and you tiptoed forward gently to listen to what they were saying. Just a few steps away, you heard Nesta ask, "How are you two doing?"

The question wasn't odd as the two of you had just moved in together, so it was only natural that your friends wanted to know how this new stage in your lives was going.

Mor sighed before responding, "It's good."

This made your brows furrow, because if they had asked you, you would have replied that it was amazing, one of the best experiences of your life. You'd have said how much closer to her you felt, how much more in love with her you've fallen and how you can't wait to spend the rest of your lives together.

But, you knew that Mor did tend to keep her romantic life more private than some of the other members of the Inner Circle, just rivaling Amren. She trusted them with her life, of course, but it didn't erase the centuries she'd spent learning to be incredibly cautious with and protective of any love in her life.

There were just some things she preferred to keep private, being honest with these kinds of emotions has always been more difficult for her.

But, still, you wondered if maybe things weren't as perfect for her as they were for you.

You take another step closer, turning your ear to the door. Rhys chuckles, saying, "Just good? You're finally in a place to yourselves and it's just good? What happened to the Mor and Y/N I know, that were always complaining about living with," Rhys pauses, and you can see him deep in thought in your head. "What did she call us?"

Nesta speaks next, "A pack of unruly males?" the smirk evident in her voice.

Rhys and Feyre both laugh before Rhys speaks again, "Yes! You're telling me you're finally away from the Cassian and Azriel," Feyre cuts in, adding, "You too, Rhys!" before he finishes with, "Pissing contest?"

Mor laughs a bit, but she doesn't say anything.

You're really beginning to overthink now, your lips in a frown.

When the laughter dies down, Feyre asks, "Really, Mor, how is it? I miss having you both around."

Mor hums, and you can hear her take a large sip of wine now that you've moved to directly outside of the door, ear pressed to the dark wood.

"I love her, she's my mate, and I'm so glad to take this big step with her, but... it's different." Mor says, getting quieter by the end.

Your heart drops at the statement, and you can only listen as she continues.

"I g-guess.. she's just everywhere, you know? More clingy, too. It's only been two weeks, I'm still seeing how it goes..."

By now, your eyes are brimmed with unshed tears, and you begin to back away, not wanting to hear anymore and too worried you'll be discovered. The word she used, clingy, was ringing in your ears.

Yes, you were quite affectionate and cuddly with her. Especially now that you two had a private home, no risk of anyone seeing you be intimate and close. Not that you two hadn't been in front of your friends, but there was a different feel to it when you could wrap up on the couch together, cook a meal together, or read a book on the porch together completely alone. You loved it, cherished it, especially after spending so long wanting a romance like this, never thinking you'd find your mate.

You were devastated to know Mor didn't feel quite the same, but you loved her, of course, and didn't want anything to end between the two of you. You knew she loved you, but you wished she'd just told you if she was having any doubts about your living situation or if she wished you two could spend more time apart, rather than embarrass you in front of your friends.

Once you'd left the front of the River House, you winnowed away, to your and Mor's house.

You decided to get ready for the evening, that you'll just wait for Mor to return home instead of meeting her. You doubted that she'd notice, and that maybe, she'd appreciate the space you'd given her.

---

It's almost dark out by the time you heard the front door unlock and creak open. You'd begun to make dinner, a pasta sauce simmering on the stove next to a pot of boiling water, bread baking in the oven.

You listened to Mor shed her winter gear, ending with her boots landing on the mat by the front door. Her footsteps padded down the hallway, entering the kitchen where she saw you at the stovetop, back to the entryway.

"Hello, love," Mor said sweetly, before sniffing dramatically. "Whatever you're making smells amazing!"

You turn to look at her over your shoulder, smiling and thanking her.

Her brows drip just a bit in confusion, clearly expecting a more joyous greeting, but you send a loving pulse down the bond in an effort so soothe her, turning back to the food in front of you.

She walks forward, wrapping her arms around your waist, burying her face in the crook of your neck. You make no move to return the embrace, instead, continuing to stir the sauce that's nearly done.

She places a few kisses on your skin, then says, "I missed you today, baby. I thought you were going to meet me at Rhys' earlier?"

You place the spoon down, turning to look at her. "I had a long day at work today, so I figured I'd come home and start dinner early." You smiled at the end, to assure her that it was just a simple plan change.

She looks confused again for just a second, before she smiles and nods, leaning in to kiss your lips. You kiss her back, but pull away before she can deepen it. You didn't want to be cold, but you were still a bit hurt, and of course, you didn't want to seem clingy.

"Why don't you change into some comfier clothes, I'll have the food ready when you get back."

Mor slowly pulls away from you, nodding softly before backing out of the room.

You sigh, turning back to the stove.

By the time the pasta has been drained, added to the sauce pan, seasoned more to taste and plated, Mor is reentering the room. She dons a red nightgown. It isn't especially sexy, it covers her and is quite tame. But she knows how much you love her in red.

As you pull the bread from the oven and begin to place a piece on each of your plates, Mor grabs a bottle of wine from the rack Amren had gifted the two of you.

She pours you and herself a glass, placing them on the tables as you set the plates down. You go to gather silverware and napkins, but she pushes you to your seat, pecking your cheek. "Sit, my love, after cooking all this. I'll get the rest."

Truly, it wasn't much, and it definitely wasn't hard, but you two usually cooked together, so you know she likely wanted to feel like she did some of the dinner work.

You sat and waited, smiling at her as she set your things down on the table.

When she took her seat, you immediately began to eat, waiting for her to tell you about her day.

"So, do you want me to tell you about the Court of Nightmares trip?"

You nodded while sipping your wine, encouraging her to continue.

---

After your plates were cleaned and your wine glasses were emptied, you stood and began to collect the dishes. You hadn't talked much, and spoke little of your day. Your plan was to go to bed within the next hour or so, to give Mor some of the time alone she badly needed. There was a book Nesta had given you that you needed to finish anyway, a few knitting projects you'd started with Elain and had abandoned, some homework for the next term you could get a headstart on making.

Alone time, you decided, would be good for the both of you.

Mor helped you clean, singing a song under her breath to fill the silence. When you were done, she wrapped her arms around you again and kissed you, harder than before.

"I really missed you," she said against your lips, cupping your face with one hand and gripping your hip with the other.

And, of course, you missed her too. That was undeniable, and you can't resist kissing your mate.

"I missed you too, sweetheart, I'm glad you had a good day." You bumped her nose with your own, kissing her again, rubbing her arms and back.

She grips you tighter, pushing your body into hers. She groans in your mouth, and you pull away before it can go any farther.

Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, you say, "I'm really tired, my love, I'm sorry."

She rubs your cheek with her thumb, kissing your forehead before pulling away. "That's okay," she says, always loving and sweet, never wanting to pressure you or make you feel bad. "I want you to tell me about it, I was excited to see you earlier and I got sad that you didn't come," your heart stings at her admission, but she continues on, "but I understand that you're tired. What happened today? Come lay down with me on the couch."

You feel a bit guilty for rejecting her like this, but, as gently as you can, you say, "I think I'm just gonna go to bed, love. I'm really sorry, I'm just exhausted. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, I swear."

Mor looks a bit surprised at your response. "Do you feel alright, Y/N, do you feel sick?"

You huff a laugh, smiling and shaking your head. You kiss her again, to alleviate any worry. "Just a headache, from the bad day, I think. I'm just going to lay down, you know, in the quiet, see if it helps. I'll likely be asleep pretty quickly."

Reluctantly, with a frown on her face, Mor nods. "Okay, baby. If you think that'll make you feel better."

You hum, "It will. I'm fine, Mor, really."

She releases you and grabs your hand, pulling you to the bedroom. "Let me at least tuck you in?"

You laugh at her, and nod your head. "Alright."

---

Later, in the solitude of your shared bedroom, you attempt to focus on the coursework in front of you.

Mor had, as she said she would, tucked you into bed. She fluffed the pillows, laid you down, dimmed the lights, cracked a window just a bit to cool the stuffy room. Then, she pulled the blankets up to your chin, kissing your forehead before again asking if you're alright.

You reassured her that truly, it's just been a very long day, trying not to be puzzled over her apparent newfound desire to be incredibly close to you tonight.

You couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about the distance you'd been putting between the two of you this evening. But, you were admittedly still very hurt. You struggled to both wish that she'd spoken to you rather than behind your back, and be glad that she'd even opened up at all, likely wanting to spare your feelings. You did not want to drive her away from you by being... clingy. But, it was hard to do this, to be so... detached from one another.

You sigh in frustration, the blank sheet of paper in front of you taunting you. You resign to the fact that you will likely not get any work done tonight. Not for your job, not on Nesta's book, not your half knitted scarves. There really is nothing to do but think, and thinking is especially cruel on you tonight.

You... could go downstairs to join your mate. You can picture her, downstairs, cozy on the couch. Either painting her nails, reading a book, or maybe, unlike you, getting some work done on whatever work for the Night Court she'd been tasked with.

But... no. You wouldn't bother her. You'd give her her space, so long as she was happy and comfortable, you'd learn to be too with this new relationship dynamic. Really, so that you never lost her, you figured you had no choice.

It was a little over an hour later, long after you'd called it quits and shut the lights off entirely, that the bedroom door creaked open again.

You listened to Mor gently close the door behind her, and pad her way over to the bed. You were, very clearly, on your side of the bed. Almost to the edge. You hoped this didn't strike her as odd, because you rarely went to bed without her, you hoped it just seemed like you'd rolled over there in your sleep without her to cuddle up to.

She lifted the covers and slid in, yet remained still. You didn't dare show that you were still awake, and so you waited to see what move she made.

Finally, after several seconds of nothing, Mor shifted closer. She didn't cuddle you as intensely as usual, just reached a hand out to rest on your hip. Typically, you'd lay on her chest, or you'd take turns being the little spoon, or you'd lay facing one another with your legs and hands interlocked. You yearned for the contact, to feel her skin on your own. But, you made no move to get closer.

Falling asleep was difficult, especially without the comfort of your mate wrapped around you. But, eventually, under the weight of her delicate hand, you drifted off.

---

The next morning, you woke to sunlight trickling in through the blinds. You could see a bit of dust floating through the air, and you faintly picked up on the sound of yet more snow falling.

Turning to look beside you, you saw Mor, asleep and cozy. She looked so warm, so tired, yet not entirely peaceful. A small frown was painting her face, and you furrowed your brows in confusion. Sitting up in the bed, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, then her pouted lips. She didn't wake up at the touch, and you opted to let her sleep in rather than cuddle her until the both of you were awake and ready to start the day.

You shivered at the cold floor touching your barefeet, slipping fuzzy slippers Feyre had gifted you one year onto your feet. You gently exited the bedroom, careful to not disturb Mor's rest.

As you prepared coffee in the kitchen, you studied the snowfall from the window above the sink. It was gorgeous, a glittery white coat making the green of the trees surrounding your property stand out. Your house was tucked away in the woods, as it has been your dream to have a home surrounded by your favorite scenery. The house is private and cozy. But, it is also incredibly close to the heart of Velaris, just located on the closest edge of the city. That decision was for Mor, who loved city night life.

As you observe the weather, you wonder if you made a mistake choosing a home so secluded. The snow was thick and falling fast. Visibility was low, and you didn't need to go outside to know that it was bitter cold. Whatever plans you and Mor had for the day would be no more, as the weather was far too intense for any traveling.

This should have made you excited, squealing with glee. It should have sent you straight back to the bedroom, to sleep in with Mor, or, to wake her up and get her to enjoy the beautiful sight with you.

But, it made you... nervous. Nervous to see her reaction to her being snowed in with you, nervous that because neither of you could escape, one of you, likely her, would decide to leave for good when the snow cleared.

You shake your head, sipping your coffee, feeling silly for such dramatic thoughts.

She doesn't hate you, you thought. She loves you very much, she just needs space.

As if your sour thoughts had summoned her, Mor strolled into the kitchen. You hadn't heard her wake up, too lost in your head.

You turned to look at her, smiling softly over your mug, sending a loving pulse down the bond before you have to break the news to her.

She smiled back, tugging on your bond, walking up to you planting a firm kiss to your lips.

"Good morning, beautiful," Mor whispered against your lips, wrapping her arms around you and hugging you.

"Mmmm, good morning." You pressed a kiss to her hair, inhaling her scent.

You pulled back, turning to grab her favorite mug from a cupboard. "I made coffee, shall I make you a cup?"

You're pouring the coffee before she answers, knowing she'll never turn a cup of coffee down. She nods, then takes your spot at the sink, observing the snow as you had previously done.

"It's coming down hard, I didn't expect all this!"

You wince at the comment, hoping she isn't too terribly disappointed that she's trapped here.

"Yes, I thought yesterday was to be the worst of it. It doesn't look like we'll be able to do much today..." You trailed off at the end, bracing for a sight of disappointment.

When one didn't come, you turned back to her, holding out her mug that now contained coffee sugared and creamed to her liking.

She looked at you, wiggling her eyebrows and biting her lip. She took a deep sip from her mug before setting it down, grabbing your mug from your hands and placing it on the counter, too. She grabbed your hand, pulling you to the stairs, presumably back to the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" You asked, genuinely confused.

"Let's get some more clothes on, silly! There's so much snow to play in!" She giggles as she speaks, like it should be obvious what her plans for today are.

You let her pull you into the bedroom, watching as she rummages through drawers and your walk in closet. She pulls out several layers of clothes for both you and her, throwing them onto the bed. She starts to pull her nightgown over her head before catching your confused gaze.

"What's wrong, Y/N? I thought you loved snow?"

She's right, you do love snow. You loved the look of it, the feel of breathing in the cold air. The snowmen you could build and the snowball fights you were always determined to win. The crunch of it underneath your boots and the smoothness as you held it in your gloved hands.

That wasn't why you hesitated, though.

"I do!" You were quick to clarify, not wanting it to seem like you were the one not wanting to spend this time together. "I just... we can't really do anything today, with it coming down like this." Mor just stared at you, waiting for you to continue. "I-I mean, aren't you a little upset? Didn't you have more things to meet with Rhys and Feyre about? Weren't you going to help plan the New Year party?"

Mor slowly released the hem of her gown, confusion painting her face. "I mean, yes, I did have those plans today, but why would I be upset? It's just a party, one that's still days away." She stepped closer towards you, and you could sense that she was growing a little aggravated. "Why would I be mad that I get a day off, a day to spend at home?"

You wanted to say, because it's a day with me, another day you don't get to have alone. But, you didn't. Your goal has never been to start a fight over this, and so you backed down before one could start.

"I don't know, Mor. I just wanted to make sure you weren't upset about it... the way it looks outside, it could be a few days until everything is back to normal. I didn't mean to imply anything, I'm sorry."

Mor didn't say anything for a moment, just nodded her head and continued to frown.

"D-Do you... do you still want to go outside?" You asked tentatively, the air charged with frustration, confusion, hesitation.

Mor sighed, closing her eyes for a second before moving to pull on a pair of sweatpants, discarding her nightgown and putting on a sweater. "I don't feel like it anymore, maybe later."

She didn't look at you as she spoke, speaking under her breath and hurrying past you to the door.

You tried to grab her arm, to stop her from fleeing, but she moved out of your reach and left to go downstairs.

"Damnit." You muttered under your breath. You had never intended to upset her, but you also didn't think you had done anything to deserve her anger.

But, it seemed like now she truly did need that alone time she'd apparently been craving. You wouldn't stoke her anymore, you'd let her calm down, and you'd stay out her way, even if it mean enduring the radiating disappointment from the bond.

---

You spent most of the morning locked away in the bedroom, staying out of Mor's way. You left once to fix another cup of coffee, Mor was sitting at the table, touching up her red-painted nails. She just looked at you when you walked in, and said nothing as you left to retreat back upstairs.

The book you were reading, while good, wasn't doing a very good job of distracting you. In fact, the longer you sat, the more your frustration brewed.

You really didn't feel like you deserved for her to be upset with you. You had been trying to avoid this, a fight, a confrontation. But you weren't sure how to move past this until you two talked.

A little after noon, you again ventured downstairs, determined to get some food and speak to Mor. You planned to tell her how you felt undeserving of her disappointment, how you felt like it was unfair that she was upset with you for giving her what she seemingly wanted.

She was absent from the kitchen, and eventually, you found her in her office, leafing through paperwork at her desk. You could tell she was trying to busy herself, as just days ago, she had told you the paperwork was mindless, formality bullshit from court to court.

Leaning against the doorway, you ask her, "Would you like some lunch? I think I'm going to make a sandwich, or maybe a salad?"

Mor didn't look up from her work. "No, thanks," she mumbled under her breath, paying you no attention.

"Mor, look at me," you said, calm and with a balanced tone.

She sighed, refusing to meet your gaze, keeping her attention secured on the papers in front of her. "I'm not hungry, Y/N, I'll figure something out later." She briefly waved her hand in the air, like she was shooing you away.

You roll your eyes, the desire for a conversation gone at the annoyance in her tone. You turn to walk away, but you can't help yourself from saying, "Alone, I'm sure, as you've made it abundantly clear that you prefer."

You're hardly a few steps down the hallway before you hear Mor call, "What did you say?" The sound of her chair screeching backward as she rises fills the silence, but you're still walking away. You knew having a calm, collected talk about this wasn't going to happen after she acted so unconcerned with your presence.

You hear her footsteps enter the hallway, too, Mor trailing right behind you.

"Y/n, what did you just say?"

And, because you're beginning to grow a bit bitter about this whole situation, you say, "Figure it out later."

Her footsteps grow faster, and as you turn the corner to enter the kitchen, she grabs your wrist and whirls you around.

"Are you serious right now?" Her tone is sharp, her jaw clenched, her beautiful face painted with anger.

You laugh, once and humorless. "Am I serious? Are you serious, Mor? Acting so cold to me today," your voice grows sharper the more you think about it, "all because you're locked in this damn house with me!"

Mor's brows scrunch, a mixture of anger and confusion. "Excuse me?! You're the one who didn't want to go outside with me this morning! You're the one who avoided me last night, going to bed early and staying as far away from me as you could!"

You pull your arm out of her grasp, pointing at her, "I never said I didn't want to go outside with you! You're the one who said she didn't feel like going anymore!"

Mor turns, scoffing and throwing her hands in the air like she can't believe what's happening. "Why would I after you had just implied like going outside together was like, the worst possible thing that could happen to you!"

You stare at her for a moment, mouth open and eyes wide. "You're making stuff up at this point! I never did that! I was just thinking about you. Cauldron forbid I care about what you want, Mor!"

You shake your head, your heart is hammering and you're starting to feel the uncomfortable sensation of tears gathering in your eyes and a lump forming in your throat.

When you turn to walk away, before it gets any worse, Mor grabs you again.

"Don't walk away from me! What in the gods name are you even talking about? You seriously think work is all I care about? You know me better than that." She sounds hurt, and angry, but you can't imagine she feels those things anywhere near the same degree as you do.

You sigh, losing the edge to your voice, a tear finally leaking from one of your eyes. "No, Mor, I don't think that. But I do know that being with me, living with me, isn't what you thought it would be. I wanted to save you from that today, that's all."

She stops dead in her tracks, her pacing coming to an abrupt end as she stares at you like she doesn't even recognize you. "What are you even saying, Y/N? Do you even hear yourself?"

"I gave you space last night, and I tried to this morning, so I wasn't too clingy for you," you put emphasis on that word like it was damning you. "But all it did was make you bitter towards me today, Mor. So I'm not sure what else I can do."

Again, she stares at you like she has no idea what's going on. And then, you see it click. Her features slowly grow from angry to sad, and she closes her eyes, tilting her head down. She looks ashamed, like she wishes she hadn't been caught.

A few more tears run down your face, and you swipe them away with your fingers, trying to calm your shaking hands.

"I didn't want to fight about this, Mor, I never did. I heard something I wasn't supposed to. I can't change how you feel, but I can change how I act. Can we just leave this alone? I won't be as clingy, but I need you to stop treating me like I've done something wrong." Your voice is hardly a whisper, and you're turning to leave the foyer you've been having this confrontation in before, for the third time, Mor grabs your wrist to prevent you from leaving.

You don't look at her as she says, "Baby, I am so, so, so sorry," her voice cracks, and the sound of her so upset breaks your heart, despite her being the reason yours has been broken since the night before. "Please, Y/N. let me explain."

You shake your head, pulling your arm away, but she doesn't let go. "There's nothing to explain, Mor. I heard you clearly last night. As much as I wish you had spoken to me about this, rather than embarrass me in front of our friends, what's done is done. You can't change how you feel."

Just as you said to her, moments before, Mor asks, "Y/N, please look at me."

You pull your watery eyes to hers, and truly, she looks devastated.

"That's not how I feel, Y/N."

You smile softly at her, putting your hand on top of the one holding your arm. You push her grasp away, saying, "Mor, of course you do. I'm suffocating, I see that now. I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, bu-"

Mor's cutting you off before you finish. "No! Y/N, I mean it. I do not think you're clingy, I was an idiot to say that."

Before she can continue, you stop her with a hand raised. "Mor, seriously, this is just making it worse. We can figure out how to make this relationship work better, later. I really don't want to talk about it anymore."

Finally releasing yourself from the hold she's had on you, you make your way into the kitchen.

And, of course, your stubborn mate follows you. She watches as you pull supplies from the fridge, meat and cheese and lettuce and other things required for a sandwich.

You spot her chewing on her thumbnail, her newly painted nail, as she watches you.

You sigh as you pull the bread from the cupboard. "Do you want a sandwich, Mor?"

"I want to talk, Y/N. I want to explain, I want to make this right. Please, baby, let me explain." Her voice is pleading, and she sounds close to the tears you were in just moments ago.

You slam two slices of bread onto a plate more forcefully than necessary. "I said I don't want to talk about this anymore. Please, Mor. Enough."

She seems to understand how serious you are, and she doesn't push you any further. She sits at the table as you prepare your lunch, and because you love her very much, and you know she hasn't eaten, you fix her one, too.

---

The day moves slowly, the two of you sticking to doing your own things. You find that the day is easier now that she knows what you know, that it's easier to breathe knowing you've said what you needed to say.

Mor hovers around you, but she doesn't push you to speak anymore. When you leave to sit by the fire in the living room, she moves to the couch with a book in hand. When you decide to work on clearing your front porch of snow, she joins you, shovel in hand and wordless. When you take a hot bath after, she waits in the bedroom, tidying until you're done. When dinner comes around, it's her that makes you a meal, and you nod your head in thanks, the two of you eating her stew in silence.

Long after the sun has gone down, you're in your bedroom, pulling a sweatshirt, matching to your sweatpants, over your head.

The door creaks open, and Mor walks in, both your book and hers in hand. Her face still looks devastated, you've been enduring the radiating guilt, shame, sadness, and disappointment from the bond all day. The only thing stopping you from kissing the hurt from her face is your own hurt, still aching, but a little less raw.

Mor sets the books down on her bedside table, and you can tell she's not going to let the two of you sleep tonight unless she's said her piece.

As much as you'd rather forget about this day, you know that tensions will only grow if you don't allow her to say whatever it is she wants to say, whatever it is she thinks will make this better.

You pull the covers back, settling on the bed. "Can you hand me my book, Mor?"

"Y/N..." Her voice is quiet. She's still standing, like she's afraid that if she gets too close, you'll run away.

You sigh, looking her in the eyes. You're surprised to see them welling with tears, her bottom lip trembling.

Your face scrunches, and you reach a hand out to her. "Mor, don't cry..." Your voice trails off, confusion lacing your tone.

She crumbles at your outstretched hand, like the acceptance is something she thought she'd lost forever. Like she's relieved that you still want her.

She collapses onto the bed, grabbing your hand, crying in earnest now. "I-I'm so sorry, Y/N, I swear to the gods I d-didn't mean what I s-s-said."

You can hardly understand her, and you run a hand through her hair in an attempt to calm her down.

"Mor, please, you don't have to explain yourself... I just want to move on from this."

That makes her cry harder, she's burying her face in your shoulder, shaking her head in refusal. "No! I d-don't want to move on from this, I want to make it r-right," she hiccups on a sob before continuing, "if you'll let me, p-please."

You sigh, kissing her hairline, urging her to pull back and look at you. "Honestly, Mor, I think it'll just hurt worse if you explain why I'm too clingy. I wish you'd just let us change how this," you gesture between the two of you, "works. No hard feelings that way, really."

Mor's face grows frustrated, her tears spilling down her cheeks rapidly. She sniffles, and grits out, "No. I-I don't want anything to c-change!"

"Mor, reall-"

She cuts you off before you can go on. "Y/N, p-please, just listen to me right now. I know I don't d-deserve it, b-but..."

Seeing her so upset, hearing the heartbreak in her voice, the sight of her red and puffy face from crying so hard, it makes you give in. You nod, signaling to her that she can continue, that you'll listen and you'll try to understand.

You brace yourself for the hurt, for her to explain how she feels suffocated by you, that you're too overbearing, just too clingy. You're ready for her to tell you that she loves you, because you know that she does, but that she just needs some space.

She doesn't, though.

She takes a deep breath in, bringing her hands up to rub at her wet cheeks, closing her eyes and collecting herself for a moment.

"Y/N, I-I have no excuse, for talking about you that way, in front of our friends."

She opens her eyes and looks deep into yours, waiting to see if you're going to stop her. When you make no move to interrupt, she continues.

"I... I am not good at this," she gestures between the both of you, then takes your hand into her own. "I'm not good at... being someone's mate."

You go to stop her, to scold her for thinking that way. She's perfect, the two of you literally made for one another. You'd not change a thing about her, and so far, your relationship had been virtually perfect. But, you swore to listen, so you refrain from stopping her.

"I never thought I'd meet my mate, and... for it to be a woman..." she trails off, and she doesn't have to elaborate on what she means by that. While your friends, your family, have been nothing but accepting and supportive, the same cannot be said for the rest of the world. Generally, Velaris, the Night Court, is open-minded, unfazed by any sort of queerness. And she decided, the moment she met you, she was done hiding her affections for women. She would not hide her mate, both you and her deserved better. But, Mor has seen the worst of other courts, of other people. She's seen terrible things happen to people for not being able to control who they love. She has always, always, been so protective of you, of the relationship the two of you have. It's made her guarded. Even around people she loves and trusts, she finds it difficult to be open and honest about the relationship the two of you have. She's opted for privacy in order to ensure protection. You know that, and it has never bothered you, because of course, you understand it.

"I am still... figuring this all out. How to navigate this, how to be more happy than scared." She pulls your hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to your soft skin. You smile softly at her, and cup her face, stroking her cheek with your thumb, soothing the still reddened skin despite the tears being nearly gone.

She leans into the touch, and again, she takes a deep inhale, like she's in need of being grounded.

"When they asked me today, how things are going... I-I just... I couldn't be honest." Her voice cracks at the end, and you dread having to see her beautiful face in tears again.

"Y/N, I swear to you, everything is perfect."

"Mor..." you sigh, worried she's just trying to make you feel better about all of this, worried she isn't really thinking of what would make her happier.

"No, Y/N, I mean it. Everything about you, about us... it's perfect," she moves to hold your hand to her face with both of hers, turning to press a kiss into your palm.

"I know it shouldn't, because they're our friends, our family... but it made me uncomfortable, the idea of gushing to them about us."

You give her a curious look, but you say nothing.

"It feels like, if anyone knows how perfect this is, how happy we are... someone will rip it away from us, from me."

And that, that breaks your heart. "Oh, Mor..." you coo, sitting up straighter, holding her face in both of your hands now.

"I really, really, really, have no excuse for what I said. You are not too clingy, Y/N. In fact, I sometimes wish we could be even closer."

You huff a small laugh at that, shaking your head and smiling. "Mor, it's okay, really."

She refuses to let you forgive her so easily, though. "It's not okay, baby. You're my mate, you're it for me. The only thing I'll ever want in life. I don't want to hide that, especially not from our friends. You deserve to be spoken about in truth, about how amazing you are, how easy it is to love you, how I miss you every second we aren't together."

It's your turn to tear up now, and you send a flood of love and adoration down the bond.

"I lied to them, because acting like everything isn't perfect was easier than feeling vulnerable. I treated you terribly, and in front of our friends, too... I am so, so sorry, baby."

You feel nothing but love and sincerity from the bond, no sign that she's lying, that she's just saying this to spare your feelings. You believe her, of course. She's poured her heart out to you, she's chosen uncomfortable vulnerability in order to make sure you know how loved you are.

Hearing what she said about you, knowing she said it to your friends too, it hurt. But, you know she's learned from this. You know that she truly feels terrible, and you now know that she thinks your relationship is just as incredible as you do. You hold no anger anymore, and the only thing left to make you sad is how upset your mate still looks.

"Mor, my love, I forgive you, it's alright." You learn forward, until your forehead is resting on hers. Her eyes flutter shut, and she releases a breath she was holding.

"You do?" She whispers.

You kiss her gently in response. "Mor, I forgave you a while ago. I wasn't angry so much as I was hurt."

She grimaces, knowing how badly she hurt you, but you soothe her with another peck to her lips.

"I understand, Mor. I do. I hope that next time, though, you'll just be honest," she nods against you, a promise to do right by you. "Or, if you cannot, I hope that you'll choose to hold off on answering, until you can talk about us."

"Of course, my love, this will never happen again."

You hum, plant a kiss to her forehead, and pull away. "I know it won't, sweetheart. Thank you, for being honest, and for apologizing."

A few seconds pass in comfortable silence, the two of you just enjoying the feeling of being close again.

Then, Mor speaks. "So.... you'll greet me at the door when I come in?" She asks.

"I will, every day, with a kiss." You emphasize your answer with kisses to her cheek, her nose, her lips.

She giggles and pulls away. "And you'll let me help with dinner? And you'll tell me about your day while we eat?"

"Yes, baby."

"And you'll stay up late and cuddle on the couch with me?"

"Hmm, what if I get tired?" You tease.

She pouts at you, but it's in jest. "You'll lay on my chest, and I'll wake you up when it's time to go to bed."

"I suppose that'll work..." a smirk is evident in your voice, and Mor kisses it quickly.

"And you'll cuddle with me in bed, all night?"

"All night."

"And you'll spend snow days outside with me? And take hot baths with me after?"

"I'd love nothing more."

"And you'll always talk to me, if I've done something to upset you? You'll always tell me how you're feeling?"

"I will, Mor, I promise."

She smiles, and wraps her arms around you. She pulls you down to the bed with her, and you nuzzle your face into her neck, planting a kiss to her warm skin. She tugs on your bond, teasing and gentle. A feeling settles over the both of you. It's warm and sweet, the distinct feeling that all is well.

---

A/N: This ended up being way longer than I meant it to be! I hope you all enjoy, angst isn't my usual but I wanted to give it a try. And of course, requests are always welcome! :)

538 notes · View notes

atlabeth · 2 years ago

Text

everything happens for a reason part 20 - zuko x fem!reader

Guess it's true, I'm never getting over you

part 19 | masterlist | part 21

a/n: holy shit guys. we're finally here. the title chapter, the part that officially puts us over the 100k mark, the turning point, the end of the constant mf angst that i've put you all through. that's right. it's finally time for yn and zuko's life changing field trip. ive had this idea down for so long and i can't believe we're actually here lol. buckle up because she's a very long and very emotional one. i hope you enjoy.

wc: 14.3k I KNOW IM SORRY

warning(s): a lot of angst, fighting, violence (including minor character death), a whole lot of emotions, but the fluffy reconciliation you've all been waiting for<3

chapter title comes from everything happens for a reason (!!!!!!) by madison beer

Y/N felt betrayed.

It wasn’t a secret how she felt about Zuko. She avoided him at every possible moment, making herself scarce whenever he walked into a room or completely ignoring him in group conversation—it was the closest she could get to the civility required now that he was Aang’s firebending teacher, and even that was difficult.

Not because she didn’t want anything to do with Zuko—no, it was becoming the opposite, and it scared her more than anything.

She found herself thinking of him more often than not. And not of the North, or their meetings along their journey, not the catacombs—she found herself recalling the more pleasant memories.

The time they spent together whenever they could when she was still a servant and he was still a prince. The sunset they shared together the night before her life was turned upside down. Those afternoons when she would visit him in the tea shop, talking like they used to, smiling like they used to.

Remembering him for who he was rather than who he had become was dangerous. It was how she got her heart broken in the first place, how she went through some of the worst months of her life.

He couldn’t hurt her again if she didn’t give him the chance to. So she wouldn’t.

But it was getting harder and harder to avoid him, because one by one, her friends forgave him.

First, she’d heard, was Toph. She didn’t have any kind of grudge against him, and she was able to make up for him burning her feet tenfold now that he was part of the team.

Next was Aang. He was already far too forgiving, the amount of grace inside of him more than Y/N could even hope to muster. They proved themselves in front of the last dragons together, and apparently that was enough for Aang to trust him.

It took Sokka a bit longer, but after what they pulled off at the Boiling Rock together, he didn’t seem to have a hard time getting along with Zuko. The fact that he helped save Y/N and Suki probably didn’t hurt his chances either.

Zuko had burned down Suki’s village, but Y/N still remembered what she told him in the courtyard—”if you can get me out of here, you’re forgiven. Kyoshi’s fans, I’ll be your best friend.” They weren’t exactly that close, but they worked together, and that was enough.

Katara, it seemed, was the only one who still shared Y/N’s scorned feelings. They held onto each other like a lifeline, feeding off of the other in their hatred. It might not have been the healthiest option, but they refused to forgive Zuko. They stewed in their hurt, and it felt good. It felt good to have a target for their bitterness rather than the abstract ideal of betrayal, and Zuko worked just fine.

After they had fought against Azula, the night they settled on a random Fire Nation island, the two of them sat together on the outskirts of camp. They were meant to be keeping watch together, but instead they made quiet conversation.

“So,” Katara said, “today was… something.”

“That’s one way to say it,” Y/N said wryly. “Since joining you guys, I’ve had enough action for a lifetime. I can’t wait for all this to be over.”

Katara smiled, but it was wistful. “Neither can I. This has all gone on for so long—all I want is peace.”

A memory flashed through her mind—frantic screams, desperate pleading, flames devouring centuries of life—and Y/N swallowed thickly as she tried to push it away. The closer the day came, the more the memories would appear. It happened every year, but this time it was worse.

“Me too,” she murmured. “More than anything.”

Katara looked at her for a moment, her gaze softening before she finally spoke. “Are you okay? I… I know today wasn’t easy.”

Y/N managed a thin smile, but it wasn’t convincing. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Katara said dryly. “We look out for each other—we always have, even from the first day we met. But it’s like you’re trying to make it as hard as possible for me to care about you.”

“One of my many skills,” she said sarcastically, but Katara didn’t laugh. Y/N sighed in response, long and deep, and allowed her gaze to drift into the murky distance. At nighttime, the water and the sky became one. It was calming. “I just…” she shook her head, “I don’t know what to do.”

“With Zuko,” she guessed.

“With everything,” Y/N said, but then she sighed again. “...Zuko included.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Katara said quietly. “Not after everything he’s put you through.”

“I keep telling myself that,” she murmured. “But there’s something inside of me that I can’t get rid of.” She looked at Katara, the beginnings of tears glimmering in her eyes. “There— there’s this hope that I can’t get rid of, that things could be the way they used to be again. And— and last time I felt that way was in Ba Sing Se, and I know where that got me, so—”

Katara stayed silent, only taking her hand to acknowledge her while allowing her to continue. It was a lifeline to her, one sorely needed, and she let out a shaky breath.

“So why do I still feel that way?” she asked, almost desperately. “How have they all forgiven him so easily? They know what he did— spirits, Aang died because of him— but they’re all able to sit around and joke with him like nothing happened.”

“They didn’t trust him the way we did,” Katara said with a quiet anger. “They didn’t trust him the way we did, so it didn’t hurt them the way it hurt us.”

“I don’t want to forgive him,” Y/N said weakly. “But the thought of losing him hurts so much. Why does it hurt so much?”

“I don’t know,” Katara murmured. “I… I don’t know.”

Y/N flinched as a tear rolled down her cheek and fell to the ground below, and she instinctively wiped it away. She couldn’t show weakness.

She grimaced at the thought. How long would that wretched place stay with her?

“I’ll give you some time.” Katara’s expression was pained as she squeezed her hand. She didn’t want to leave her alone, but Y/N was thankful for it. Right now she just needed to feel miserable by herself, without bringing Katara down with her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Katara nodded as she stood up. “You can sleep in my tent tonight. Or if you decide you want to talk, come bother me. I promise it’ll be okay.”

Y/N nodded, the action a bit numb, and she could feel Katara’s eyes on her as she lingered. But eventually she mustered the strength to leave, and Y/N was left with her thoughts.

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat as she stared up at the sky. She tried to find the constellation her father taught her when she was a mere child—the tiger seal.

It was a jumble of stars that didn’t even remotely resemble the animal, but she remembered late nights spent stargazing on the ground outside their house, giggling endlessly as her father would point out various other constellations that he made up on his own. It would last until her mother would come out and tell them it was far past your bedtime, young lady, but she would never hide her smile as they ambled back inside.

The memory made a smile of her own emerge, but she soon realized she was fully in tears. They slid down her cheeks, falling onto the dirt and stones jutting out of the cliffside.

She couldn’t stop thinking of Zuko. She couldn’t stop thinking of her father. She felt so deeply broken in a way that she had no idea how to fix, in a way that was threatening to consume her.

She had her life back. Everything should have been back to normal.

But instead, she felt more lost than ever.

Y/N ended up taking Katara’s offer of sleeping in her tent, and she was glad she did. The familiarity of it all made her heart ache, but she was thankful for it. Thankful that she had friends like these who wouldn’t let her push them away, no matter how much her newly wired instincts told her it was the right thing to do.

She was visited by her childhood in her dreams yet again. She saw her father and her mother, walking hand in hand with smiles on their faces as they trailed behind a young Y/N skipping through the village paths.

She saw her child self running, screaming and laughing in equal parts as she was chased by the boy marked as the tagger, only to stagger backwards after running into one of the adults. But she was greeted by the smiling face of her father. The boy tapped her on the shoulder and ran off laughing, but her father knelt down to her level and looked at her completely seriously.

“I guess that means we’re the taggers now, huh?” And with that, the two of them ran around the village tagging everyone they could with the seriously unfair advantage.

She saw the moment after she’d learned how to waterbend, sprinting through the whole village to find her father, drag him to the lake, and show him her new skill. Gan held all the stars in his eyes as he watched her bend, and even though it was the simplest thing she could’ve done he praised her to no end.

The absence of scars, the smoothness of her skin, a bright smile that shone through her—she was unmarked by the world then. Hopeful, content, naive.

When she woke up with still-wet tear tracks on her cheeks, it wasn't a surprise. She woke up like this more often than not.

One week. Seven days. And then she would go to face something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

But for now, there was something else to focus on. She could hear loud voices outside of the tent—all familiar, thankfully—but she knew that meant she had overslept.

Y/N fixed her hair and her clothes, rubbing furiously at her face to get rid of any signs of her previous emotions, and emerged from the tent to see her friends all standing around Appa.

“—about getting closure and justice,” she heard Zuko say, and her brows instinctively creased.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms as she stopped between Sokka and Zuko. “What are you all talking about?”

Zuko’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at her. “Uh— good morning.”

“Good morning,” she said stiffly before repeating herself. “What’s going on?”

“Zuko knows where to find the man who killed our mother,” Sokka said. He was oddly quiet.

“And Katara wants to find him,” Aang said, his expression uneasy.

“Is there a problem with that?” Katara asked defensively.

“Not if Zuko’s right and you just want closure,” he said. “But I don’t think that’s what this is about. I think it’s about getting revenge.”

“Maybe it is!” Katara exclaimed, gesturing with one hand. “Maybe it is about revenge, Aang. But don’t you think I deserve it?”

“You don’t know what it will do to you,” Aang said. “I know how you feel right now, trust me—like violence is the only way to solve your problem. I felt that way after I discovered what happened to my people. But it’s not the only way.”

“I can’t let him go now that I know I can get to him!” she yelled, her voice rising with her anger. “Maybe it’s what I need—maybe it’s what he deserves.”

Aang’s eyes widened slightly. “Katara, you sound like Jet.”

“That’s not the same,” she snapped. “Jet hurt the innocent. This man— he’s not innocent. He’s a monster.”

“Katara, she was my mother too, but I think Aang might be right,” Sokka said.

She set her jaw. “Then you didn’t love her the way I did.”

Sokka took a step back as his eyes widened. “Katara…”

“The monks used to say that revenge is like a two-headed rat viper.” Aang spoke up quickly, trying to fill the air after what she’d said. “While you watch your enemy go down, you’re being poisoned yourself.”

“That’s cute, but this isn’t Air Temple preschool,” Zuko said. “It’s the real world.”

“And you think he hasn’t experienced the real world?” Y/N snapped. “I think he knows a little bit about grief after what’s happened to him.”

Zuko looked at her with a surprisingly level expression, contrasting her narrowed eyes and upturned lip. “Monk pacifism isn’t going to help here.”

Y/N opened her mouth to retort back but Aang stopped her. “It’s okay. I forgive you, Zuko.” He looked at Katara. “That’s what you need to do. Forgiveness.”

Katara laughed in disbelief. “You want me to forgive the man who murdered my mother?”

“Of course not!” Aang said. “You need to face him—I understand that. But when you face him, you can’t kill him. You have to let the anger flow through you, and then out of you. Accept your emotions, then let them go.”

“Why should he get to live when our mother is gone?” Katara shouted. “I don’t want to forgive him, I want revenge!”

“Killing him won’t bring our mother back,” Sokka murmured. “You’ll just have someone else’s blood on your hands.”

“Good,” she said coldly. “An eye for an eye.”

“Makes the whole world go blind,” Aang finished. “One of the monks said that back in the temple—violence might feel right, but it just hurts everyone more. Forgiveness is the right choice.”

“Forgiveness is the same as doing nothing,” Zuko said.

“No, it’s not,” he said. “It’s easy to do nothing—forgiveness is hard.”

“It’s not just hard,” Katara snarled, “it’s impossible.”

Aang looked over at Y/N, who had been silent since her outburst at Zuko. “Y/N, please. You know revenge won’t help her.”

Y/N looked between the two of them, the steely determination brewing in Katara’s eyes at odds with a desperate softness in Aang’s. Something twisted in her chest, and she had to force herself to look away as she spoke.

“...Do what you have to,” she said quietly. “Whatever that ends up being.”

Hurt flickered across Aang’s expression before he looked away, and Katara nodded thankfully at her before she started walking away. Zuko cast a long look at Y/N before he followed her.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Y/N muttered as she hurried off in the opposite direction, swallowing her doubts as her hands bunched into fists and loosened over and over, desperately needing something to do with them.

Katara was going after her mother’s killer, and Zuko was helping her with it. Katara, her last line of defense in her feelings against him, was going on her own trip with him. Y/N knew it was for the best—it was something she needed to do and Zuko had the Fire Nation knowledge that no one else in their group possessed, so he was the obvious choice—but a small part of her still couldn’t help but despise it.

He was getting too close, far too close, and she wasn’t going to let that affect her.

No matter what.

Y/N had found a small solace by the cliffside, sitting on the edge as her legs hung off. She could fall just as easily as anything, but maybe it was the danger that calmed her, the fact that she was in control of what would happen. She heard the footsteps before anything though, and her body tensed up instinctively as she whirled around.

“It’s just me,” Toph said, her blank gaze aimed at the ground. “You’re jumpier than usual.”

“How can you tell?”

“I can hear every ant on this cliffside through their movements,” she said. “Your heart rate spiked so much that even a baby could tell you’re off. You’ve been off, ever since you came back.”

She smiled wryly. “I’m still getting used to everything again. It’s not an easy transition.”

“But you’re here,” Toph said, and she sat down next to her. “You’ve been through everything, and you’re still here. That means you’re tougher than everything the Fire Nation has tried to throw at you.”

“How can you say that so easily?” Y/N asked. “I’ve flipped out on everyone at least twice for no reason. I constantly have nightmares about what’s happened. I— I can’t even bend because Zuko still has this stupid hold on me. I don’t feel tough. I feel weaker than ever.”

“You’re still here,” Toph repeated, emphasizing each word. “So many other people would have given up by now if they were in your position. But you didn’t—you fought, and you continued to fight until you won, no matter how long it took you. That’s what makes you tough—not all the stuff you’ve been through, but the fact that you’re still standing at the end of it.”

“When did you become so wise?” she joked weakly, her gaze trailing off into the horizon. The sun was beginning to set, beautiful reds and oranges blending with deep purple. It reminded her of the night everything changed.

“Someone had to keep these dunderheads together while you were busy in prison.” Y/N chuckled a bit, but she could see Toph’s expression sober in her peripherals. “...I’ve just been worried about you.”

“Really?”

Toph punched her on the arm without looking. “Does that make you believe me?”

Y/N managed a small smile as she rubbed the spot. “Yeah.”

“Good. Because I don’t know how much sappy stuff I can take.”

Her smile widened as she wrapped an arm around Toph and pulled her closer. “So you do love me.”

“Let go of me!” she protested. “This is the worst kind of sappy stuff!”

But Toph made no move to get away from her, and Y/N laughed. “Just admit it. You missed me.”

“Of course I missed you,” she huffed. “Without you, I actually had to do all the work with Katara instead of knocking Twinkle Toes around with earthbending or practicing on my own. It was horrible.”

“I missed you too, Toph,” Y/N said with a smile. “I didn’t realize how much I appreciated your tough love until I didn’t have it.”

“I have plenty saved up for you, Snowflake,” Toph grinned, “so don’t worry.” But her expression sobered, and she paused.

“...I’m here for you,” she said after a moment. “If you need anything, or just someone to listen to. I’m good at listening to people complain.”

“Thank you,” she said, her smile softening. “That means more than you know.”

And as the two of them sat there in silence, nothing being said verbally but more in the air between them than ever, she felt content once again. She didn’t realize how much she just needed to talk to somebody. First her conversation with Katara and now with Toph—her friends really were the secret to making her feel better.

…Things would be okay again, Y/N thought to herself. No matter how long it took, her friends would be there for her.

Things would be okay again.

She would be okay again.

“They’ve been gone for too long,” Sokka grumbled.

“It’s been two days,” Aang said. “Zuko said the man they were after was retired—it can’t be easy to find a retired Fire Nation soldier, no matter how knowledgeable you are about the navy.”

“That’s too long,” Sokka insisted as he crossed his arms. While Y/N, Aang, Suki, Toph sat together in a loose arc, Sokka was up and pacing. He had been for the past twenty minutes.

“Can you sit down, Sokka?” Y/N asked. “You’re stressing me out.”

“You should be stressed out!” he exclaimed, flinging his arms up. “The boy prince of betrayal went off with my impressionable sister on a murder field trip. There is no reason to not be stressed out!”

“You need to give Sugar Queen more credit,” Toph said. “If Zuko tries anything, he’s the one that should be worried. Not the other way around.”

“Toph’s right,” Aang said, but then he frowned. “And I thought you trusted Zuko.”

“Not when he’s alone with my sister on a murder field trip!” Sokka heaved a long sigh as he stopped, staring out into the distance. Even though their island was one of a big scattered chain, they were still extremely isolated. It was unnerving sometimes, especially at night. “She feels everything so strongly, and… and she’s always felt guilty about what happened to Mom. I know she thinks this is her chance to make it up to her, to do what she wished she could have done on that day. But I also know that if she goes through with it, she’ll regret it for the rest of her life.”

“She’ll make the right choice,” Y/N murmured. “I know she will.”

Aang suddenly perked up, and he turned around. When he did, his eyes widened. “They’re back.”

They all turned around to see Appa touching down at camp, but only one person dismounted.

“Where’s Katara?” Y/N instantly asked, her eyes narrowing as she darted up.

“She’s fine,” Zuko said, but when he glanced at Aang she could see his nerves. “She… she’s back at the dock. At the soldier’s village.”

“Did she…?” Aang didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to.

“No. He’s terrified out of his mind, but he’s alive.” A weight was visibly lifted off of Sokka’s shoulders with the single word, and Aang nodded.

“That’s… that’s good.”

“She said she needed some time to herself,” Zuko murmured. “I figured it was only right to bring you back with me.”

“I’m coming too,” Sokka said.

“Me too,” Y/N spoke up. She could feel Zuko’s gaze on her, but she didn’t meet it.

“I’ll stay back,” Toph said. “Someone has to hold this place down.”

“I will too,” Suki said, and she gave Sokka a light kiss on the cheek. “I hope she’s okay.”

“She will be,” Sokka said softly. “Eventually.”

Zuko nodded and started walking back towards Appa. “Let’s get back, then. It’s a bit of a ride.”

Soon enough, they were all in the village, and Aang jumped off Appa as soon as he’d guided him close enough.

“Katara!” he exclaimed as he ran towards her, sitting on the edge of the dock. “Are you okay?”

“I’m doing fine,” she murmured. Her voice was placid as the water she sat above, but it was strained.

“Zuko told me what you did,” Aang said softly. “Or… what you didn’t do, I guess. I’m proud of you.”

“I wanted to do it,” she said stiffly. “I wanted to take out all my anger on him, and I almost did. But… but I just couldn’t. I don’t know if it’s because I’m too weak to do it or strong enough not to.”

“You did the right thing,” Y/N said. “Facing that man makes you stronger than he could ever hope to be.”

“Forgiveness is the first step you have to take towards healing,” Aang said.

Katara stood up, and her gaze was a mixture of sadness and acceptance. But it was obvious the ordeal was still weighing on her. “I didn’t forgive him. I’ll never forgive him. But…” she looked past them and over at Zuko, the smallest of smiles pulling at her lips. “...I am ready to forgive you.”

She walked up to Zuko and hugged him, and after a moment of hesitation Zuko smiled and wrapped his arms around her. Y/N clenched her jaw and started walking back over to Appa.

She was happy Katara got closure, of course she was. But in the process, she had forgiven Zuko. She was her confidante, the one person who understood how deep her anger towards him went. She had been by Y/N’s side throughout their whole journey, at each and every road block, she was there for Ba Sing Se—for all of Ba Sing Se.

And somehow, Zuko had gotten her to forgive him too.

It was selfish, unbelievably so, for it to hurt her so much when Katara had just faced something impossible. But she couldn’t help the way that her chest twisted, how her heart ached, how her nails dug so deep into her palms they left indentations.

When the rest of them got back onto Appa, Katara sat down next to her. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.” She didn’t make eye contact, her gaze focused into the distance as Aang set off for camp. “I’m glad you got to face him. That you made the right decision for you.”

“Y/N,” she murmured, “I know what this is about.”

“It’s not about anything except you,” she evaded. “This was a journey you had to take—we’re all behind you.”

“And you have all my thanks for that,” Katara said. She glanced at Zuko on the other side of the saddle, very obviously trying to pretend like he wasn’t listening in on their conversation. He wasn’t very good at it. “But I know you’re upset about… that.”

“We don’t need to talk about this right now,” she said.

“Y/N…”

She didn’t say anything. Katara sighed and settled back down on the saddle.

“Okay,” she nodded. “When you’re ready.”

Quiet conversation was made on the other side of the saddle between the three boys, but there was nothing between Katara and Y/N.

Nothing except a newly found weight on both their shoulders.

The sizzling fuse exploded when they got back to camp, though. A ride spent staring at the sky didn’t do much for her. Y/N got down from Appa the moment Aang guided him to the ground, and Katara let out a hefty sigh as she followed after her. She started to say her name, but she didn’t get far.

“Even you forgave him.” Her words were cold, icy rather than hot anger. “Even you! After everything we’ve talked about— everything you know!”

“I— I know,” Katara said, and she let out a deep sigh as she ran a hand through her loose hair. “But… but he helped me in a way that no one ever had. I found my mother’s killer. I got closure.”

“Well, maybe I should get him to help me find the guard who killed my father,” Y/N said sarcastically. “Maybe that’ll get me my bending back.”

“It could,” Katara said, and she was actually genuine. “It could work. And Zuko would help you.”

She huffed a mirthless laugh and shook her head, biting the inside of her lip to prevent the tears she knew would start welling up. “I’m not letting him back in. Even you said I shouldn’t.”

“I can’t say I know how much you’re hurting,” Katara said, “but… but Zuko is hurting just as much as you. There’s no excuse for what he did, I’m not saying that. But he wants your forgiveness more than anything in the world.”

“Did he tell you to say this during your trip?” she asked stiffly. “I mean, now that he’s turned you over to his side and everything.”

“I’m saying this because I care about you,” Katara said softly. “Y/N, I have seen you hurting for months now, all because of Zuko. Even from the first moment we met in the North, I knew there was something inside of you, and it’s still there. And if you don’t take care of it, it’s going to consume you.”

“I can’t forgive him.” Her voice was barely a whisper, a cracked, haunted resolve behind it. “I won’t let myself get hurt again.”

“And I can’t promise that he won’t hurt you again,” Katara murmured. “But I do know if you decide to let him back in, he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to you.”

Y/N wasn’t able to muster any words. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and turned away, blinking back tears.

“He talked about you,” she continued. “When he wasn’t talking about the Fire Nation and where we were going, he was talking about you. He loved you back then, and he still loves you now. Even if it took him way too long to realize it.” Katara’s expression softened as well as her voice and she took a step closer. “All he wants is to help you however he can.”

“If he loved me then and he still betrayed me,” she whispered, “then how can I ever trust him again?”

“...You just have to,” Katara said quietly. “Trust in the Zuko you knew before you were forced to be on opposite sides. When the two of you were the missing half of each other’s souls.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, still unable to look back at Katara. “I can’t.”

“Then at least don’t push us away,” Katara urged. “You’ve been off. I don’t know what it’s about, but you can tell me as little or as much as you want, whenever you’re ready. I’m here for you—we’re all here for you, Y/N. We love you so much. Let us help you.”

She bit down on her lip hard to prevent the tears from welling up, and she was only able to muster a nod. “I will. Soon.”

“...Okay.”

Y/N walked off, and she could feel Katara’s worried gaze on her. It took all her strength not to look back.

Three days.

It all went on as usual. Suki asked if she was okay, but she didn’t push.

Sokka wouldn’t stop looking at her strangely. He must have heard her leaving her tent in the middle of the night.

Two days.

The nightmares were worse. She nearly woke up screaming. Thankfully, she didn’t wake Katara.

Aang sat with her during breakfast, telling ancient airbender stories. He didn’t ask anything when he had to repeat himself because of her blank stare at the ground.

She spent most of the day sitting by the water.

Maybe it would come back after this.

One day.

Everyone knew something was wrong, but she didn’t give any of them the chance to ask.

Especially Zuko. He wouldn’t stop looking at her, wouldn’t stop trying to talk to her. She brushed him off every time.

She packed her bag that night.

She barely slept a wink.

“What are you doing?”

Her plan was to leave at the crack of dawn, before her friends could ask any questions or try to go with her. She would be back by nightfall, and she would have closure. The nightmares would stop. The guilt would go away. She would be okay again.

But of course, he had to ruin everything.

She didn’t look over at the sound of Zuko’s voice as she rifled through her bag, making sure she had everything she needed. “Nothing.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Very perceptive, aren’t you?” she said dryly. Y/N tied her bag shut and stood up, then climbed onto Appa’s back. “I’m leaving.”

His eyes widened. “You’re leaving? Does everyone else know about this?”

“Not leaving for good,” she scoffed. “I just have something I need to do.”

“And that is?”

Y/N glared fully at Zuko. “None of your business.”

“You’re taking Appa in the middle of the night to go somewhere,” he said, crossing his arms. “Every time someone’s tried to do that, it’s been for something important. Sokka was going to the Boiling Rock, and Katara wanted to find her mother’s killer. I’m guessing whatever you’re going to do is equally important, which means you’re gonna need backup.”

“I said it was none of your business,” she repeated. “I can handle myself just fine without you.”

“Well,” Zuko crossed his arms, “I’m not leaving until you tell me what you’re doing.”

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” she jabbed.

“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met,” he responded with a shrug.

She went silent for a moment as her gaze traveled away, staring instead at the dark night sky. Today had been the hardest day yet, even looking back on her months in captivity. It was the day everything changed. She didn’t exactly know what possessed her to tell Zuko the reason, but after a moment, she did.

“Seven years ago today, my village was invaded,” she said quietly. “It’s the day my mother and I were captured, and… and the day my father was killed.”

Zuko’s eyes widened, and his voice was the same as hers when he finally mustered something. “I… I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

“So am I,” she said, “but apologies haven’t helped me with anything. I’m going back. I’m visiting my village for the first time since my mother and I were taken. Now that I have the means to travel there, it’s something I need to do.”

“I understand,” Zuko said, “completely. I’ll come with you.”

Her response was instantaneous. “No.”

“You can’t travel that far alone,” he insisted. “I have no doubt that you can handle yourself, but you’ve trained to fight with your bending, and right now you don’t have it. If you run into any kind of trouble, you’re… well, you’re gonna be in trouble.”

“I can fight,” she said. “I’m good with my fists. I held my own against Azula.”

“You did,” he admitted, “but her skill also isn’t in her hand to hand. And if you’re up against multiple people—say, Fire Nation guards—you’re gonna go down quick.”

“You have just as much faith in me as ever,” she remarked sourly.

“It’s not that I don’t have faith in you!” Zuko defended. “I just don’t want you to die because you have too much pride to accept any kind of help.”

“It’s not that I don’t want any help,” she stated. “I just don’t want your help.”

Zuko let out a long-lasting sigh, shaking his head before he finally met her eyes again. “Look. I know you don’t like me, and you don’t have to. Not after… not after what I did. But whatever’s between us can’t affect our mission, because ultimately we’re all here to defeat my father. That has to happen no matter what, so like it or not, we’re probably gonna have to work together at least once to make that happen.”

“I don’t have to work with you if I don’t want to,” she said.

“Really? So if we’re in the middle of a fight and your choice is to either work with me or die, what would you do?”

“I’m not that stupid,” she snapped.

Annoyingly, though… he had a point. They couldn’t afford any distractions, not so close to the end. And Y/N wouldn’t be the reason for their failure because of Zuko.

“...Fine,” she relented, but the glare she pinned him with was still withering. “But you do whatever I tell you to do, and you don’t come with me when we get to my village. This is private.”

Zuko immediately broke out into a grin and he nodded. “Of course. I’m here for you.”

She averted her gaze as she took her seat on Appa’s head. “Get your things before I leave you here.”

He nodded again and he started off towards his tent. Y/N let out a loose sigh as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, the early morning chill beginning to get to her.

A trip with Zuko to her childhood village on the anniversary of the worst day of her life.

This couldn’t go terribly at all, she thought wryly.

“...So,” Zuko said, “do you know where we’re going?”

“No,” she said, “I just thought I would lead Appa around blindly and hope that we somehow end up in the right place.”

“So you do know—”

“Of course I know where we’re going,” Y/N snapped. Maybe it was unfair of her, but she didn’t exactly care. “Sokka took a map from Wan Shi Tong’s library before it collapsed, and he let me borrow it. It’ll take us a couple of hours, but we should make it before noon.”

Zuko nodded. “Where is your village? You never told me much about it when you talked about your past.”

“Why do you care?”

He huffed a laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

She said nothing, and Zuko sighed. “I care about you, Y/N, more than anything. I’m here because I want to help you. Of course I care about where you’re from.”

“That doesn’t mean we need all the small talk,” she said.

“It’s not small talk, it’s a conversation,” Zuko said dryly. “I’m more than happy to sit here in silence with you for another six hours, but I think that’s pretty boring.”

“...It’s by the southern coast, near the Zeizhou provinces,” she relented after a moment. “It’s so small that you can’t find it on a map unless you know what you’re looking for. We didn’t even have an official name—if we had to, we called it South Zeizhou because that was the only notable thing near us.”

“What was it like?” he asked. “Growing up in a place like that.”

“It was nice,” she said. “We were almost completely isolated from other villages, so we were tightly knit. Everyone knew each other—I’m sure I knew each person by name by the time I was five—and everyone helped each other. We didn’t have much, but everyone was well taken care of. Our community was everything.”

“That sounds beautiful,” Zuko murmured.

“It was,” she agreed. “Until your people invaded it and destroyed it.”

Zuko went silent at that, but instead of the sick sort of satisfaction she normally experienced, she felt… guilty.

It wasn’t his fault. Zuko was only a year older than her—when her village was invaded, he was probably in school lessons or learning how to be a prince. And now he was here, going against everything he knew, everything he’d ever had, to try and make things right.

He was a child just like her. And with a father like Fire Lord Ozai…

“...I’m sorry,” she said, and his eyes darted up, a bit of shock visible in them. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I just…” she sighed. “I’ve never forgiven the Fire Nation for what was done to my people. And I guess you’re just the easiest target.”

“I understand,” he murmured. “And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

“This doesn’t mean anything.” The words were quick to leave her mouth, and she didn’t look at him. “Just because I feel bad doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.” Nevertheless, she could still hear the smile in his voice.

“I know.”

More silence.

“What was your father like?” Zuko asked as he broke it. “You speak of him so fondly.”

She bit her lip at the question as the memories flooded back, and Zuko was stumbling over his words almost immediately.

“You— you don’t have to answer,” he said, “obviously, if it’s too much, but I—”

“He was the nicest man you’d ever meet,” she said softly. “He was always willing to help anyone who needed it, always willing to do far more than he had to if he thought it would make someone happy. And he did—he made my mother the happiest woman alive. He was beloved by everyone in the village.” Y/N swallowed hard. “He died to protect it. To protect me.”

“You’ve made him proud,” Zuko said. “I know you have.”

“I hope so,” she murmured. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

She meant to leave it at that, but for some reason, the words continued to flow. “But I… I’m worried about what will happen when I get there.” that they won’t recognize me when I come back.”

Zuko frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s been years since I was there.” Y/N let go of the reins and wrung her hands together. She glanced down at the bandages, the rough fabric almost a comfort after her time without them. “I haven’t been back since I was captured. What if they resent me for not being there?”

“No one could possibly resent you for that,” he scoffed. “You were taken, Y/N, by soldiers. You were a child—what could you have done?”

“Anything,” she muttered. “If I had done anything, maybe things would have been different.”

“You can’t do that to yourself,” Zuko insisted. “You’ll drive yourself insane going down that path.”

She shrugged. “That doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

“Look at me.”

Y/N frowned. “What?”

“Turn around and look at me,” he said again. “And don’t do your stubborn I hate Zuko thing. Just humor me for once.”

She scoffed and crossed her arms as she turned around, looking him in the eye. “What?”

“Do you think it’s Katara’s fault that her mother is dead?”

The jump to the topic made her blink, recoiling the slightest bit. “What? No— spirits, of course not.”

“But she died to save her,” Zuko said. “The raiders were there looking for the last waterbender, and that was Katara. Her mother gave herself up in place of her.”

“That’s not her fault,” she said. “Her mother ch—”

It hit her then, and her eyes narrowed. “You’re not clever.”

The slightest smile tugged at Zuko’s lips and he shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“You’re not clever,” she simply repeated, and she turned back around and grabbed the reins. She couldn’t see Zuko’s pleased expression as he adjusted his position in the saddle.

“Just trying to help,” he said, and his voice softened. “You’ve made your father proud, even if you don’t think so. You’ve made both your parents proud.”

She didn’t respond. She feared that if she tried to, the tears would spring. And she wasn’t going to cry.

But she appreciated his words more than he knew. Maybe even more than she knew.

But she couldn’t say that. And so they rode in silence.

“We’re almost here,” she announced, and she lightly tugged at Appa’s reins to get him to slow down. It had been a few hours of silent flying and navigating, but they’d made good time. By the spot of the sun in the sky, she could tell it was just before noon.

“Good,” he said.

They had been in the air for hours, starting even before the sun had risen, so it was no surprise when she glanced behind her and saw Zuko fighting off grogginess in the form of a barely stifled yawn.

“You didn’t have to come, you know,” she said, maybe a little too snippy.

“I wasn’t going to let you go alone,” Zuko said. “And even though you might not think so, I like being around you. I…” he sighed and shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“What?”

“I just want things to be the way they used to be,” he murmured. “But I know that can’t happen. And I know you’re tired of hearing it.”

“...I want that too,” she said quietly after a moment of hesitation.

She heard the rustling of leather and a sharp intake of breath, and it wasn’t hard to tell he was shocked by her words. And maybe she was shocked too, because she knew she meant them completely.

“Y/N,” Zuko started, “you—”

But then he was interrupted by her gasp.

“What?” he asked, only a moment of hesitation before he switched veins. He moved up beside her, and his eyes widened. “Flames of Agni…”

In the distance, she could see where the forest abruptly stopped. It went on for kilometers, the ashy remnants of fauna and chopped stumps. So much of the forest was just— was just gone. And in the center of it all…

Her village was unrecognizable. Houses made of wood and stone had been torn down and replaced with metal buildings, and the few original buildings that still were in disrepair, riddled with scorch marks and on the verge of falling apart. She could see armed Fire Nation soldiers manning certain spots around the village, as well as marching through the streets. They numbered far more than anyone in simple Earth Kingdom garb.

Flags and banners with Fire Nation insignias hung everywhere, but the worst part was the factory. It was as big as ten of their old homes, black, polished metal only good for serving as an eyesore. It pumped out acrid black smoke, and even from so far away it made her eyes sting. Her hands clenched into fists around the reins, and anger swelled up inside of her.

Everything that was held sacred in her village was gone, ruined by the Fire Nation for their own gain. Just like everything else in the world.

And she hadn’t even known about it.

“The Fire Nation is still here,” she said shakily. “I… I don’t know what I expected. I thought they would move on after the raid, but…” She barely managed to choke back a sob by clenching her jaw tightly. “They destroyed it all.”

“I’m so sorry.” There was horror in Zuko’s voice, and like her, he was unable to look away from the devastation. “I… If I had known…”

“Sorry isn’t going to fix anything,” she said bitterly, but it was more pained than anything.

“Then we will fix it,” he countered. Her eyes flicked up to him, the smallest bit of surprise visible. “We’ll take your village back and get the Fire Nation out, once and for all.”

Y/N’s grip tightened even further on the reins, her nails digging deep into her palms as she nodded. Her eyes hardened as they moved back to her village, and she nodded resolutely.

“You’re damn right we will.”

“Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m not okay,” she said. She wanted to snap at him, but she didn’t have the energy. Not after what she’d seen.

She and Zuko had set up camp a while away from her village, deep in what remained of the forest to give Appa enough cover. Though she wanted to light a fire, she knew it was too risky. And so they sat together on the ashy, barren ground, the air between them heavier than ever.

They were going to take back her village, that much was a given. The only question was how.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “It was a stupid question.”

“I just don’t understand,” she said weakly as she sat back on the ground. “Why would they stay in our village? We’re so far off the map that it’s probably costing them more to be here than not.”

“That’s what the Fire Nation does,” Zuko said. “They destroy everything they get their hands on.”

When Y/N looked up at him, he was staring at the ground, his jaw clenched.

“It’s about breaking their spirit,” he continued. “If they just left, your people could fight back. Get revenge for the invasion. But if they take over completely—”

“They crush an uprising before it has the chance to grow,” she murmured, “and they gain a workforce and all the natural resources they could want.”

“Yeah.”

Zuko’s voice was oddly quiet, stilted in a way she couldn’t place. She couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“What happened when you went back to the Fire Nation?”

Zuko glanced at her, swallowing hard before he looked away. “I’m not sure you want to know.”

“I do,” she said. “And I think I have the right to know.”

“Mai and I got together.” He sounded almost embarrassed, and she hated the twist of jealousy in her chest. “We talked during the entire boat ride home, and it went from there.”

“Oh,” she said stiffly. “So while I was sentenced to rot in prison for the rest of my life, you were getting busy with the girl who’s loved you her whole life.”

His cheeks flushed bright red in spite of the obvious anger. “That’s not what it was!”

“Really? Because that’s exactly what it sounds like.”

“We were both struggling,” he insisted. “I… I wasn’t handling Ba Sing Se well, and Mai was having doubts about everything. We gravitated towards each other in our misery, and— and it just happened.”

“You can’t honestly believe that’s true,” she snapped.

“You don’t know anything about Mai if you think it isn’t!” he exclaimed. “Neither of us were—”

“What?” she asked, brazen in his silence as he suddenly cut off. “You weren’t what?”

“…We realized that we didn’t like each other in that way,” he finished in a mumble. “Expectations pushed us together. Our own feelings pulled us apart.” Zuko looked back at her this time. “We couldn’t ignore our… our true feelings.”

“And what are those true feelings?” she asked. She couldn’t help the mocking tone in her voice, but the anger was beginning to come back. Mai had never been mean to her back in the palace, but it was hard to forget Omashu and Ba Sing Se. And it wasn’t exactly nice to hear that she and Zuko got together right after she was sentenced to a life in prison.

“I love you,” he said, “and you know that. But Mai, she—” Zuko shook his head and glanced away.

“What?” she repeated.

“...Do you remember Ty Lee?”

She frowned. “Yeah. She’s tried to kill me a couple times.”

“That’s who,” he said, and her eyes widened slightly. “They’ve always been close, but… I don’t know. Maybe the pressure of working under my sister brought them together. Maybe me being as horrible as I was pushed her away. But all I know is that Mai has feelings for her, and none for me. And I’m okay with that.”

“...Ty Lee,” Y/N said, and she managed a chuckle. “I think that’s the last pair I expected.”

Zuko cracked a smile. “It works, though. I hope they can figure something out.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Me too.”

But then Zuko’s expression sobered again as he looked at her, his gaze as piercing as ever. “You know I don’t like her. You know there’s nothing between us. A—and you said you wanted things to be the way they used to be.” His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the edge of desperation in it. “So why can’t they be?”

“Why does it always come back to us?” she asked bitterly.

“Because I want there to be an us again so badly,” he said. Zuko’s voice was so genuine it pained her, and she hated how easily he was cracking her resolve.

The walls used to be easy to keep up, used to be gratifying. But now all it did was hurt. The night was cold, and she longed for his embrace.

But Zuko was fire. Beautiful, inviting, full of warmth, but able to hurt her just as easily.

And spirits, that was all she could think about as the scar on her arm stung. The burns on her hands had faded, and Ba Sing Se’s mark was nearly gone as well, but she couldn’t forget.

“Maybe there can’t be an us again,” she mumbled as she stood up. “And maybe we just both have to accept that.”

The look in Zuko’s eyes hurt, his downcast expression combined with the same longing she felt. So she walked away towards the forest, or rather what remained of it.

“I’m going to scout out our surroundings,” she said, though it was half-hearted. “I’ll be back when the sun starts setting. We’ll figure out a plan at nightfall.”

She’d disappeared into the woods soon enough. If Zuko said something, she didn’t hear it.

She held true to her word, and she was back by nightfall. Zuko had drawn a map of her village in the dirt with a stick, and though it was crude it was accurate. It turned out he had a better memory than she thought, and it also seemed that when they were working towards something like this, it was easier to work through the tension.

It took the better part of an hour for them to come up with something and actually agree on it, and it was still shakier than he liked—a lot of it relied on her people remembering Y/N the way that she remembered them. But it was a plan, and it could work, so it was good enough.

Soon enough, they were back on Appa, riding through the inky sky towards her village. Dressed in black from spares Zuko had in his bag—the same outfit he lended Katara during her mission, she was sure—they blended in perfectly.

“We’re here,” she whispered, and Zuko nodded as he sheathed his sword and moved up next to her on Appa’s head. “Do you remember the plan?”

“Of course I do,” he said. “Are you dropping down here?”

“Yeah. I’ll signal when I’m ready for you.”

He nodded again. “Good luck, Y/N.”

“...Thanks.”

She guided Appa closer to the ground, handing the reins off to Zuko when she thought she was close enough. She slid off as quietly as she could, her moccasins doing little to help with the shock of landing but good enough at muffling her movements. There were fewer guards than before, but it still made her nervous.

Y/N didn’t even dare to breathe as she moved through her village, ducking behind cover when she needed to as she made her way towards one of the only remaining houses. Despite the Fire Nation banner hanging across the front, it still felt like it was her village rather than another forced colony.

That was something, she supposed.

She pushed the door open quietly and pulled the fabric down from her face, checking once more to make sure there were no guards before she closed it. And when she turned around, she was met by a wide-eyed woman and a stark-faced man darting up from his spot on the floor.

It probably wasn’t the best look, showing up dressed in all black in the middle of the night while the village is occupied by soldiers. She could only hope they would recognize her.

“What are you doing in our home?” he demanded, but his wife shook her head.

“I must be dreaming,” she whispered, and she stood up as well. “Y/N? Is… is that you?”

“Leya,” Y/N said, and she felt the pinpricks of tears behind her eyes, “you remember.”

Leya laughed and clasped her hands together as she moved closer and pulled her into an embrace. “Of course I remember you, darling! How could I forget the little waterbender who always managed to soak my laundry just as it had finished drying?”

“Gan’s girl,” the man—Lao—marveled, and he laughed as well. “What in Kyoshi’s name are you doing here?”

“It’s hard to explain,” she said, slightly sheepish as she pulled out of Leya’s hug. “But basically… I’m here to save the village.”

Lao shook his head with a smile—that same smile she remembered from her youth, a mix of approval and surprise. “You haven’t been here since the invasion and now you’re here to save our village. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“What can I say?” she said with a slight laugh. “I’ve been busy with the Avatar.”

“The Avatar?” Leya asked, and Y/N held up her hand.

“As much as I’d love to tell you both what I’ve been up to all these years, we’re working on a schedule.”

“‘We’?” Lao caught. “Who else is here with you?”

She didn’t think she could exactly say the crown prince of the Fire Nation, no matter how reformed he claimed to be.

“A friend of the Avatar,” she decided. “He’s waiting for my signal. That’s when the action’s going to start.”

“What exactly is your plan?” Leya asked tentatively. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but our numbers aren’t the highest. Those who haven’t been sent away as laborers had their spirits broken long ago. There are very few with any kind of fight left in them.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got more than enough fight in me for this whole village. But I need your help.”

Lao nodded. “Anything.”

She smiled, a miniscule amount of weight dropping off her shoulders in relief. “Good.”

Appa was stashed securely in the woods, a rucksack full of moon peaches to keep him happy and quiet, but Zuko was still nervous.

How couldn’t he be, hiding behind a gaudy metal structure pretending to be a house that fit into this village? He was only the traitor boy prince of the Fire Nation, most likely with a wanted poster and a bounty on his head courtesy of his father.

He wasn’t scared, though.

Nervous? Sure. But he couldn’t wait to give these soldiers what they deserved.

Zuko’s eyes snapped towards the sudden movement across the way—the Fire Nation banner had been ripped down from the house Y/N went into, and the woman who did it held her fist in the air for a moment before darting back inside.

The signal.

It was time.

Zuko took a deep breath, pulled his broadswords out of their sheaths, and started moving.

It didn’t take long to find a guard, standing at his assignment near some light post. Zuko dashed behind him and brought his swords up to his neck.

“Stay quiet if you want to keep your head,” he said. “Nod if you understand.”

The guard nodded, but Zuko saw his hand clenching into a fist. He moved one sword down, and he froze in place as the sharp edge settled against his skin.

“No firebending either,” he growled. “You wanna test my patience some more, or are you ready to cooperate?”

“I— I’ll cooperate,” he stammered. “Just don’t hurt me, please. What do you want?”

It was almost pathetic. These people took over an innocent village, and now they were so confident that they stationed guards like this. Zuko wondered if this man even knew what had been done here.

“Good,” Zuko said. “Who’s in charge here?”

“General Lee,” he said, and Zuko had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Of course. “He— he’s the one who took over this place at the beginning. The one who ordered the invasion.”

“And where is he?”

“The biggest house at the end of the lane,” he said. “You— you can’t miss it.”

Zuko thanked the soldier for his information by knocking the flat end of one blade against his head, and he took a step back as the man fell to the ground, unconscious.

Step one complete.

“How is your earthbending?” Y/N asked. She and Lao moved swiftly through the village under the cover of darkness, avoiding soldiers where they were stationed as they conversed in low voices.

“Not as sharp as it used to be,” Lao said. “I’ve been hiding it since the invasion—otherwise they would have killed me or sent me away. What do you need it for?”

Once again, that sheepishness came back. The plan she and Zuko created sounded very outlandish when she said it out loud.

“I want to destroy the factory.”

“You certainly don't aim low, huh?” Lao chuckled a bit, but he flexed his hands nonetheless. He moved his fist forward and a short pillar of solid rock shot up from the ground. “I’ve still got some of it, at least.”

“That’s why I asked for your help,” she said. “The Fire Nation builds everything out of metal, but I think they forget that rocks are pretty effective against it.”

Lao smiled as he sent the rock back down into the earth. “I like how you think.”

She smiled as well, but her head shot up at the movement near them. She stepped protectively in front of Lao, her instincts above anything, but the tension dissolved when she saw it was just Zuko.

“Did you find out where he is?” she asked, and he nodded.

“His name is Lee— General Lee,” he said. “The last house,” he pointed, “that way. You can’t miss it.”

“Good.” She cracked her knuckles. “I have some things I’d like to say to him.”

“Y/N,” he said, “he’s…”

“What?”

“He’s the one who did all of this,” Zuko said. “The one who ordered the invasion. He’s been here ever since.”

Her jaw clenched as she felt fire ignite inside of her. “Then maybe I have a little bit more to say to him.”

“Take this.” Zuko took one of his swords off along with its sheath and handed it to her. “Just in case.”

She nodded, taking some satisfaction in her practice swings before she stashed it across her back, then she looked at Lao. “You two are going to take down the factory together. Is anyone in it still?”

He shook his head. “Shifts ended a few hours ago. It should be completely empty.”

“Good.” Y/N looked at Zuko. “How do you feel about causing some explosions?”

He smirked. “Pretty great.”

“And how do you feel about crushing a lot of stuff?” she asked, turning to Lao.

“Even better.”

“Great,” she smiled. “Obviously, this is going to make a lot of noise. Get out when you feel danger—we might have to bring this fight to the streets.”

Lao cracked his knuckles. “Gladly. It’s about time we take our home back.”

“Laya’s alerted the people?” Y/N asked.

He nodded. “She’s gone house to house—she should be near the end by now. She and the rest of our people will be safe, and anyone who’s willing to fight will be ready for my signal.”

“Then I think it’s time we split,” Y/N said.

“Be careful,” Zuko said. “Don’t let your anger blind you.”

“I’ll do what I have to do,” she said simply.

Zuko nodded in understanding. “See you on the other side, then.”

“See you on the other side,” she murmured.

Y/N got used to the weight of the broadsword in her hand as she moved through the village yet again. She was surprised at how easy it was, how inattentive the few guards were. Their confidence would be their downfall.

It wasn’t hard to find the house of the general. It was so massive it edged on gaudy, obviously built for nothing but the man’s ego. The door wasn’t locked, and she just shook her head as she slid inside. This was ridiculous.

She closed the door as quietly as she could behind her, and she held her breath as she looked around the first floor. It was eerily empty, eerily silent. Maybe he wasn’t here.

Y/N tightened the grip on the hilt of the sword as she crept up the stairs, wincing at every creak. The whole upstairs was the general’s room, and she shook her head. This was more luxury than anyone in the village lived in. He’d built his comfort off the pain of her people.

“Would you like to tell me what you’re doing in my home?”

She whipped around, her sword instinctively flying up as she stared right at her target. So he was here, and he’d been just as quiet as her. He was younger than she expected, but his eyes told everything she needed to know.

“General Lee,” she said, and she was surprised at how steady her voice was. “This isn’t your home.”

“Isn’t it?” He was dressed in a simple tunic and pants, no armor in sight. Good. “I was here when it was built, and as far as I’m aware, it was built for my use.”

“You took it from my people,” she said. “You took everything from us.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific,” he said nonchalantly. “I’ve taken over a lot of villages.”

“Do you not have any shame?” Y/N demanded, and she pointed her sword at him. He didn’t even flinch. “Destroying the lives of innocent people, tearing apart their homes for resources, occupying them just to show off your strength. You kill people, you destroy families, and you don’t even care?”

The general had the nerve to smile. “It’s the way of the world. The weak fall, the strong prevail. I guess your people were just weak.”

Y/N couldn’t control herself after that. She yelled out as she lunged forward and swung with her sword. The general sidestepped her as she whirled back around, and he just laughed.

“You want to fight, girl?” General Lee mocked. “For what? Your people? Your honor? You won’t get far, I assure you.”

“For my family!” she growled. “Your men killed my father and forced my mother and I into servitude. I’ve wanted revenge for so many years, and now I can finally get it.”

His eyes lit with recognition and he raised his eyebrows. “The waterbenders. So you managed to escape—impressive.”

And then suddenly, there were two massive explosions. They were all the way across town, but it still rocked the foundations of the house. The impact must’ve been felt all over town, surely alerting every guard on duty that something was wrong.

Step two was complete.

It was Y/N’s turn to smile at the general. “There goes your factory.”

The general’s mocking confidence melted into cold anger. “You—”

“Blew it up,” she responded. “Yeah.”

She lashed out with her sword to force him out of the way, then booked it down the stairs and out of the house. She laughed in pure exhilaration as she saw all of the guards in the street, as well as the general running out of his house. The fire blazing in his hand matched the anger in his eyes.

“You want a fight, girl?” he growled. “I’ll give you one!”

General Lee launched the fireball at her and she dodged out of the way, watching as it sizzled against the ground. She held her sword in both hands, beckoning him to come further. It wouldn’t be an easy fight to win against an enraged firebender, but then again—she’d done it before.

He was far too eager to go against a young girl as he shot fire at her in repetitive blasts. She dodged what she could and slashed through the others with her sword, lunging at him with the blade when Lee gave her space.

But then fire shot past, narrowly missing her, and her head whipped around. It took these soldiers long enough to realize the fight was happening right next to them.

“Come on, Zuko,” she muttered as she backed away from the men, the general and the soldiers narrowing in on her. She brandished her sword. “Where are you?”

“You’ve picked a battle that you can’t finish,” General Lee spat as fire lit in his hand, “just like your father!”

Rage hotter than anything before ignited inside of her. And then, everything happened at once.

The general and his soldiers shot their fire at her.

Someone yelled at her to duck, and she dropped to the ground.

As the fire was extinguished above her, General Lee’s eyes widened. He took a step back. “What in Agni’s name—”

“I’m not too late, am I?” Zuko reached a hand down to her, and Y/N let out a relieved breath.

“Right on time,” she remarked as she took it and allowed him to help her up. “I’m in a bit of a situation.”

“I noticed.” Zuko turned to the general and gestured with his head behind them. “I’m sorry, general, but I think someone blew up your factory!”

“Prince Zuko,” he said sourly. “So you’re a traitor as well.”

“I’m not a traitor,” he said, stepping in front of Y/N ever so slightly. “I’m helping free these people from your glorified slavery.”

The general’s eyes narrowed. “So all it takes for the crown prince to give up his values is a pretty face.”

“You’re a sick man,” Zuko spat. “Take your soldiers, leave this village, and we’ll give you the mercy you never extended to her people.”

“I don’t think so,” Lee said, and he smiled. “Don’t worry, though—this’ll all be over soon. Unless you think you can go against every soldier here on your own.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been outnumbered,” Y/N said, and she drew her sword. “Besides—”

“—They’ve got help,” someone interrupted. She looked behind her and saw Lao, followed by a myriad of villagers—some earthbenders, some that were just ready to end this. More than she thought still lived here, more willing to fight than she thought.

So everyone’s spirit wasn’t broken.

She smiled. Step three.

“So you want to make this harder,” General Lee said. “I admire your tenacity, but it won’t do you much good.”

“We’ll see,” Zuko said.

Lee didn’t even say anything before he started firebending, and Zuko blocked it yet again. The battle immediately escalated from there, earthbenders and soldiers and swordsmen fighting. It was mostly visible in flashes of fire and the occasional lamppost, but it was loud.

Y/N and Zuko fought side by side against the general, their moves seamless—whenever one fell back, the other would step forward. She was surprisingly good with a sword, but it might’ve been her adrenaline.

With the amount of energy and anger pumping through her veins, she was sure she could take on anything at that moment. And having Zuko with her… She would be lying if she said it didn’t help.

It was a deadly dance between the three of them. Y/N’s sword sung as it cut through the air, and it was in sharp contrast to the explosions of fire in the background and the general’s own bending against them.

Maybe it was that adrenaline inside of her, or maybe it was the thought of finally getting to deliver justice for her village. Maybe the spirits were finally on her side. But whatever it was, General Lee ended up stumbling as he dodged the sword’s jab at him, and it gave her enough time for Zuko to kick him in the chest and send him backwards. Y/N took the opening and swept his legs, putting all her strength into the single move, and it worked.

He fell to the ground, a slight grunt being forced out as he landed on his back, and Y/N pointed her sword at his neck. She took immense satisfaction in the flicker of fear in his eyes.

“Zuko,” she said placidly, “go help the others.”

He looked at her for a good, long moment before he conceded with a step back. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“I won’t regret this,” she murmured.

Zuko’s gaze remained on her for another moment before he turned and ran back into the fray. Y/N could do nothing but stare down at the general. The man who took everything away from her in one short afternoon, now defenseless below her blade.

“So,” she said, “after all this time, all it took was one fight for you to fall.”

The general gave her a wry smile. “It wasn’t exactly a fair fight.”

“Neither was the invasion of my village. But that didn’t stop you, did it?”

“You savages have never understood,” he growled. “No great leader has ever gotten anywhere by being nice, by yielding to the demands of those lesser than him. There’s a reason the Fire Nation is at the world’s helm while every other nation continues to fall to its feet.”

“Because you go after the defenseless!” she exclaimed. “You go after those who can’t do anything against you, and then you destroy everything you find. All you care about is power.” Y/N huffed a mirthless laugh and gestured around them. “And look where that’s gotten you.”

“Yield,” she demanded before he had the chance to speak, moving her sword closer to his neck. “Yield, and leave this village, and I’ll let you leave with your life.”

The general laughed, followed by a wince as her blade nicked his skin. “Don’t you know anything about the Fire Nation? You served there for so long.”

“Yield!” she shouted, her voice trembling along with her grip. She just wanted this to be over.

“We fight until death,” he continued. “You’re going to have to kill me if you want your way.”

“You think I won’t?” she challenged. ”You’ve taken everything from me! Your life is too small a price to pay for what you’ve done!”

“I think you’re weak,” he spat. “Too weak to do what you need to do.”

Her eyes stung with tears as she pulled the sword away from his neck.

General Lee huffed a laugh. “Like I said: you’re wea—”

He was stopped in the middle of his sentence as she plunged the sword into his heart. His eyes widened as he choked out his last breath, the light beginning to drain out of him. And then he was gone.

“I’m not weak anymore,” she murmured.

Y/N stared at his lifeless body for a moment, glanced at the gleam of blood on metal.

She had just killed a man. The one responsible for her father’s death, for the imprisonment of her and her mother, for the invasion of her village.

Y/N didn’t feel remorse, didn’t feel satisfaction—but she felt whole. Like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

She sheathed her sword and walked away, back towards the chaos of the ongoing fight. Zuko had joined the others, fighting with a combination of his sword and his bending, and it worked wonders. For a moment, all she could do was watch him. The grace he fought with was akin to that of a waterbender.

Lao moved like he was twenty years younger, working in tandem with other earthbenders as they took down the Fire Nation forces soldier by soldier. Toph would have been proud.

But now there was only one thing left to do.

Y/N took a deep breath then cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling as loudly as she could. “Soldiers of the Fire Nation! Your general is dead!”

That was enough of a shock to knock them off their balance, because Zuko and the earthbenders all immobilized their foes. Zuko with a sword to the neck, Lao and his crew with rocks around their legs and other limbs. The fight died down quickly, all of them staring at her. Zuko’s expression was impossible to read.

“You heard me,” she repeated, “General Lee is dead. You have no stake in this village anymore. Leave, or face the same fate as him.”

“Will you stand here and fight for a nation that doesn’t care about you?” Zuko shouted, catching on to her goal. “Or will you do what’s right and leave these people be?”

Silence hung in the air, only broken by the heaved breaths of soldiers and earthbenders alike. She stared at them all expectantly, her heart pounding in her chest.

And then, the clatter of a sword against the ground.

“I surrender.” A soldier being held in place by rocks around her ankles had dropped her weapon, looking Y/N straight in the eye. “I’ve served the Fire Nation blindly for far too long.”

She nodded at the earthbender, and he retracted the stone around her.

“Go,” Y/N said. “Back to wherever you came from.”

“Your mercy…” the soldier murmured, and she shook her head. “Thank you for giving us a second chance. I know it means little, but I apologize. For everything.”

And then she walked off—in the direction of the shore, she noticed—and soon enough, she’d disappeared into the wood. They must’ve come in on ships.

Slowly, the remaining soldiers either dropped their weapons or declared their own surrender, and one by one they were let go. The sound of clattering metal was music to her ears, and with each one the weight lifted a little more.

The soldier in Zuko’s hold was the last to drop his sword, and Zuko kicked it away before removing his blade from his neck. As he walked away, she let out a sigh of relief.

“…We did it,” she said. “We finally did it.”

“You did it,” Zuko said as he sheathed his sword, doing the same to the other when Y/N handed it to him. “None of this would have been possible without you.”

“Wouldn’t have been possible without you either,” she said, and the smallest smile tugged at his lips.

Lao walked up to her, and he enveloped her in the biggest, tightest hug she’d felt since Katara’s at the air temple. She reciprocated immediately, tears springing into her eyes at the warmth he carried.

“You did it,” he said, his voice and eyes full of pride as he pulled away, though his hands remained on her shoulders. “You’ve given us the freedom that none of us could attain in seven years. We owe everything to you, Y/N.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said, unable to help her grin, and she looked back at the other villagers. “Any of you—thank you so much. Tonight, you fought for our people! You fought for our village! And we’re finally free from the Fire Nation.”

A wild cheer erupted from the group, and Y/N had to wipe away the tears that began to fall. They’d really done it.

“Go, be with your families!” she exclaimed. “Celebrate with your loved ones! You deserve it—enjoy your freedom!”

Several of the villagers clapped her on the shoulder or shook her hand as they began to wander around, returning back to their houses. She heard one discussing architectural plans, about what they would do with everything the Fire Nation left behind, as well as their houses. The smile wouldn’t leave her face.

And then Zuko walked up, alerting her to his presence by clearing his throat. “Y/N,” he said, and she turned around.

“What?”

“First of all, congratulations.” His own small smile was there, and she felt her cheeks warm. “You freed your village from a seven year occupation. It’s amazing.”

“It feels amazing.” She rubbed her arms, the cold of the night beginning to get to her as her adrenaline from the battle started to fade. “I can’t believe we did it.”

“I’m not surprised,” Zuko said. “You can do anything you put your mind to—I’ve learned that twenty times over by now.”

She chuckled a bit, but Zuko’s expression sobered. “But I have to ask. You… you killed the general.”

The air between them immediately changed. “I did.”

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“I don’t feel happy,” Y/N said, “so you don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going to start killing everyone that’s ever wronged me.”

Zuko laughed, though it was slightly nervous. “That’s, uh— that’s good.”

“But I don’t feel sad either,” she said. “I just feel… right. Like it was something I had to do. Not just for my people, but for me. To know that he’ll never be able to hurt someone the way he hurt me.”

“...Good,” Zuko repeated. “That’s all we can ask for, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “But… I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us. At least until I’m ready to tell everyone.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

“Good,” she said.

Y/N looked up at the sky, the sun having fully set. It was dark except for the bits of ashes that littered the battlefield and the lanterns that lit up the path through the village. But there was still something she needed to do.

She looked back at Zuko. “I have something I need to see. And I want you to come with me. Is… is that okay?”

He smiled, his voice soft when he spoke. “I’d love to.”

The path she led him down was one well-traveled by the people of her village—the inky darkness they walked through was penetrated only by the flames Zuko held in his hand at Y/N’s request. She knew she would be able to find her way without it, though.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Somewhere special,” Y/N answered. “Sad, but special. Somewhere I’ve thought about a lot since my mother and I were taken.”

It took a few more minutes of walking in silence only disturbed by night ambiance. When they got there, Y/N let out a quiet sigh. There was unimaginable weight behind the sound.

“We’re here.”

“Where is ‘here’?” Zuko asked tentatively. But then he made the fire in his hand bigger and brighter, and his breath caught in his throat.

“...Hi, Dad,” she said softly, her gaze focused on the headstone. “It’s me. Your little girl finally found her way back home.”

“Y/N…” he murmured.

“I’ve been wanting to come here for a long time, but I’ve never been able to,” she continued. “But you don’t have to worry anymore—the village is free. The Fire Nation is gone. And Mom is okay—she’s safe in Ba Sing Se, and after all of this is over, I’m going to find her again, and I’m going to take care of her. You don’t have to worry about us anymore.” Y/N chuckled. “I’m sure I’ve been driving you crazy with everything I’ve been doing lately. But you can rest in peace now.”

“Are you sure you want me here?” he asked. “I— I don’t want to disturb you—”

She shook her head, placing her hand lightly on his arm. “Stay. Please.”

“...Okay,” he said. “Of course.”

“This is Zuko,” she said, and she laughed a bit as he hesitantly waved. “He’s… he’s the most important person in my life.”

His eyes widened a bit and he looked at her, but her only response was to wordlessly slip her hand into his. He didn’t hesitate to lace his fingers through hers.

“We’ve been through a lot together, and I’ve… I’ve been really angry at him lately. And I thought it was good, righteous anger, but all it did was eat me up inside. I’ve been miserable because of it—I even lost my bending. But now… now, I understand.”

She looked at Zuko now. His gaze hadn’t moved.

“I love you,” she said, “and I mean that with everything in me. I’ve been so angry at you because of what you did that I haven’t let myself think about anything that you’ve done—and you’ve helped my friends so much since you joined them. You’ve helped me too, even when I claimed I didn’t need anyone.”

“And all this time, I thought that letting you go was what I needed to do. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.” She tightened her grip on his hand—her lifeline. “I’ve lost so much in my life, Zuko, things that I can’t get back. And I’m not going to let myself lose you again.”

Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to Zuko’s lips, and he extinguished the fire in his hand as he immediately reciprocated it. It was impossibly soft, impossibly right. And Y/N knew then that this was exactly where she was supposed to be.

“I love you too,” he murmured, and his eyes shone even in the darkness. “More than anything. And I’m so sorry that I ever made you think anything else.”

She pulled away from the kiss to embrace him, and when his arms wrapped around her, it was like home. The constant twist in her chest, the constant weight she’d been carrying for months—it dissipated, and she felt lighter than ever. Spirits, it all felt so right.

And when they pulled away, Y/N rested her head on Zuko’s chest. He responded by wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her in close.

“Thank you for taking me here,” he said. “For trusting me enough with it.”

“Thank you for never giving up on me,” she said.

“Speaking of that…” Zuko said, and there was a slight lilt to his voice as he lit the fire in his hand again. “How about trying that bending again?”

Y/N chuckled a bit as she looked at her hand, flexing her fingers the way she used to. She barely had to concentrate as she pulled moisture from the air, forming into an orb of water in the air. She wasn’t even shocked—she’d known, after they got here. It wasn’t anything concrete, just… a feeling. A feeling that order had returned.

“It’s back,” he said, and the boyish surprise in his voice made her smile.

“That it is.”

Y/N formed it into a flower and then froze it, gingerly taking the stem in her fingers. She walked up to her father’s grave, running her fingers over the engravings. She wasn’t here when it was made, but she was so thankful it had been made. That her people had always been thinking of her and her family.

GAN

HUSBAND OF KURA, FATHER OF Y/N

48 AG-93 AG

WILL BE REMEMBERED FOR HIS LOVE AND HEROICS

It was bittersweet, but she was glad he had a spot here. He would always be remembered.

She carefully placed the flower of ice against the headstone, lowering the temperature of her breath as she blew on it to preserve it longer. It would melt eventually, of course, but this wouldn’t be her last time here. Next time, there would be real flowers.

“I love you, Dad,” she murmured, resting her head against the stone as she closed her eyes. “Forever and always.” She stayed there for a moment, and the gentle breeze that blew through the enclave was no coincidence. For the first time in a very, very long time, she felt peace inside.

She stood back up with a sad smile, wiping at the tears before she turned to Zuko. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?”

Y/N nodded. “I am.”

Zuko nodded too, and they started to walk together down the path.

And when he offered his hand, she took it without hesitation.

hope you enjoyed this mf emotional marathon of a chapter lmao im gonna go hibernate for a few months because jfc

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