#I like writing her but she was on a roll this whole fic

[marvelstoriesepic]

Change your mind

Pairing: College!Athlete!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Natasha drags you to an NYU baseball game. And despite yourself, one player catches your attention.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Bucky’s charm; Bucky being flirty; Bucky showing off; Reader checking out baseball players lol; Reader not being interested in baseball (at first)

Author’s Note: I've been craving some flirty college Bucky after all the angst I've been writing. So that’s what I came up with. It is also meant as a little celebration fic because I've got over 1500 followers and that’s so amazing! Thank you so much!! Hope you enjoy! ♡

Divider by @thecutestgrotto ♡

Masterlist

You haven’t been to a single game since the semester started - since any semester started, to be real. And honestly, you have been content with that. Satisfyingly so.

Your time is better spent attending to assignments, slogging through your part-time job at the library, or doing literally anything else besides sitting in the stands and watching a bunch of guys chase a ball around a field, or whatever the hell this sport even is about.

Baseball isn’t your thing, it never has been and it never will be.

You’ve been complaining about it the whole way here. Dramatically so, but you didn’t care. Your best friend can handle you and your antics.

“You know, I can think of at least a dozen things I should be doing right now instead of this,” you grumble, trailing behind her as she weaves through the crowd in search of seats.

Natasha sighs sharply and throws you a glare over her shoulder. “God, would you quit whining? This is good for you.”

“I fail to see how,” you shoot back, adjusting the strap of your bag as you begrudgingly follow her.

But Natasha just smirks. That dangerous little smirk that means she’s about to say something you won’t have a comeback for. “You know,” she muses, eyes darting playfully in your direction. “I didn’t think I’d have to twist your arm to come watch a bunch of hot guys running around out there.”

A brow of yours lifts. “Alright, hold on-” you jab a finger in her direction “-I never said I was against that part.”

She scoffs, clearly pleased with herself, and you grin, nudging her with your elbow as the two of you settle into your seats.

“Besides,” you continue, voice dripping with amusement. “I don’t think you should be making comments like that when we both know you’re here for one guy in particular.”

Natasha only shrugs, all nonchalant, but the corner of her mouth tugs lightly upward. “So what if I am?”

You snicker. “I mean, nothing. I just think it’s cute how whipped you are.”

She rolls her eyes, but her lip is still twitching. Natasha and Steve have only been dating for a few weeks, but you see the way she looks at him. And as much as you complain about being dragged here, you suppose watching your best friend fall stupidly in love is kind of entertaining.

Even if you have to suffer through a baseball game to witness it.

You lean back against the hard metal bleachers, arms crossed as your gaze falls across the field.

It’s a decent night, warm with just enough of a breeze to keep the air from feeling stifling. And even though you’d rather be anywhere else right now, you can’t deny that seeing Natasha like this - light in her eyes, a weird softness in her expression - makes the whole ordeal slightly less painful.

Steve is out on the field, stretching with his team, and Natasha is watching him with this reserved kind of smile. The kind that sneaks up on a person when they don’t realize they’re doing it. You smirk to yourself. Yeah, she’s got it bad. But honestly, you are happy for her. They look good together, and she certainly deserves someone who looks at her the way Steve does.

Natasha must catch you watching her because she suddenly turns, an all-too-knowing glint in her eye. You don’t like that look.

“And who knows,” she says, spreading her legs out in front of her, voice hinting at humor, “maybe your future husband’s down there right now.”

You snort, rolling your eyes so hard they might get stuck. “Oh, yeah, sure. He’s just waiting for me to sweep him off his feet in the middle of a stretch.”

She smirks. “Could happen.”

You shake your head. “Yeah, no thanks. I'm all for watching a bunch of hot guys get all sweaty and run around in tight pants, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You gesture vaguely toward the field. “That’s just spectating. Everything else is a hard pass.”

Natasha quirks a brow, tilting her head at you. “Oh, come on, Y/n. It’s not that bad.”

You shoot her a look. “Nat, the last guy I went out with, Peter Quill, you remember?-” You don’t wait for her nod “-he told me, verbatim, that he doesn’t believe in seasoning his food. And the guy before that showed up to our date in cargo shorts and a fedora and spent two hours explaining why The Wolf of Wall Street is the peak of cinema.”

She winces. “Oof.”

“Yeah. So forgive me if I’m not that eager to throw myself back into the trenches.” You pause. “Also, I’m super busy.”

Natasha laughs, shaking her head as she turns back toward the field. “Well, if you ever change your mind, I’ll be sure to put in a good word with one of Steve’s teammates.”

You scoff. “Wow, generous and delusional. I’m so lucky to have you as a friend.”

She nudges you with her shoulder, smirking. “The luckiest.”

Huffing, you sink deeper into your seat. Well, at least there is one upside to all of this. If nothing else, you can at least appreciate the view.

Your eyes wander over the team as they move across the field, warming up, adjusting their gloves, casually tossing a ball back and forth.

And yeah, you can admit it - objectively speaking, they look good. Athletic builds, toned arms, legs that fill out those pants just right. It’s a nice view, even if you’re not about to go throwing yourself into the dating pool again, so soon.

Your gaze drifts back to Steve, mostly because he’s the only one you actually know - if only a little. But before you can really focus on him, someone steps into your line of sight, half-blocking the blonde from view.

The number 17 fills out your vision.

Your head tilts instinctively, curiosity sparking before you know it. The guy in front of Steve is tall, broad-shouldered, with an easy stance that suggests he’s completely at home out there on the field.

His uniform fits him in a way that makes you annoyingly aware of just how well built he is - jersey stretched firm across his upper back, the sleeves tight around his biceps, pants snug in all the right places. His chestnut hair curls slightly at the nape of his neck underneath the baseball cap he is wearing, and he stands so casually confident that it makes it impossible to not look at him.

Have you maybe seen him around campus before? You should have, right? Someone like him doesn’t just blend into the background. Maybe in the halls, in one of those massive lecture rooms, passing by in the library, maybe when you're on shift. But you are sure, that if you saw that guy, you would have remembered him.

“See something you like?”

Natasha’s smug voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you catch the smirk she is throwing your way.

Scoffing, you tighten your arms around yourself and glance back at the field. Number 17 is still standing there, talking with Steve, completely unaware of the fact that you’ve just spent the past minute analyzing every inch of his backside.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deny, keeping your tone even.

Natasha snorts, bumping her knee against yours. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?”

She nods her head to the field. “For dragging you here. For the eye candy. For giving you the opportunity to meet your future ex-husband.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.”

Inevitably, your eyes move back to number 17, and you can’t help but think that if you haven’t seen him before, why it feels like you should have.

He’s turning.

Wait, he’s turning.

Your breath hitches and stays stuck in your throat uncomfortably, and suddenly he’s looking at you. Did he feel your eyes on him? Does he somehow know that you eyed him up like a complete creep? But just as the heat of panic can spark in your chest, you realize he’s not even looking at you.

He’s looking at Natasha.

Your shoulders loosen slightly. Steve also has turned his gaze toward the stands, his affective smile directed at your friend as well. He probably told the brunette that she’s here.

Number 17 lifts a hand in a casual wave, movement smooth, and even that simple gesture kind of looks way hotter than you want to feel right now.

Natasha only gives a small, lazy nod in return.

You expect the brunette to turn back around after that, to go back to whatever pre-game thing they were doing. But he doesn’t.

His attention shifts. To you.

Your stomach makes a flip before your brain can decide how to handle it.

His eyes are sharp, the exact color lost to the distance, but it seems to be something blueish. His expression is unreadable, his head tilting slightly as if assessing you. The stadium lights cast a glow over his features, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw, and the way his mouth seems to settle into something just shy of a smirk.

Immediately, you whip your head around to Natasha, eyes wide.

“Do you know that guy?” you ask, trying to sound more casual than you feel.

Natasha doesn’t even bother looking at you. She’s still watching Steve, her lips curving higher as if knowing what she’s doing.

“He’s Steve’s best friend.”

You blink. “Steve’s best friend?”

Your gaze falls back to the field against your better judgment but Number 17 has already turned back to Steve, talking to the blonde who now is sporting a smirk just like Natasha’s.

“You never mentioned him before,” you comment, though it comes out a little too measured.

Natasha of course picks up on it immediately.

“Should I have?” she counters, dragging the words out just a little.

You narrow your eyes at her but she only continues smirking.

And again, your gaze falls back to Number 17. God, why can’t you stop checking him out. The white baseball pants of his do absolutely nothing to hide the strength in his legs. His hair at his nape is slightly messy from running around and you wonder if it would feel soft if you put your hands on it.

You shake that thought right off again.

It’s not like it matters.

Still, you shift in your seat, arms tightening. “I just think it’s interesting that you never brought him up before when he’s his best friend.”

Natasha exhales a laugh through her nose, finally glancing over at you, her eyes glinting with something mischievous. “I mean, I could have.”

“And you didn’t because…?”

“Because,” she says sultry, shrugging one shoulder. “I figured you’d meet him eventually.”

There is something pointed in the way she says it, something deliberate, and you don’t like that it sends a small tingle of anticipation through you.

“So, what’s his deal, then?” you keep going, not even knowing why.

Natasha hums, stretching her limbs languidly. Her voice is sly. “His deal?”

“You know,” you press, trying not to sound too interested, although, fucking hell, you are. “Like, what’s his major? Have you seen him around before?”

She turns to you again, and oh, that look on her face is entirely too smug. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You huff. “Nat.”

Her smirk only deepens. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Before you can answer, she looks past you, over your shoulder, down the steps.

Her expression doesn’t change but her smirk gets a little too satisfied, a little too wicked.

You quickly follow her gaze and, oh shit.

A heavy beat thuds against your ribs before your heart remembers how to move properly as your eyes follow the unmistakable figure making his way up the stairs.

Number 17.

And he is coming right toward you.

You inhale sharply, sitting up a little straighter, trying to act like this isn’t throwing you off balance. His steps are easy and unhurried as if giving you the time to check him out some more. And even though you should know better, you do.

His uniform is wrinkled from warm-ups, the fabric clinging in ways that are frankly unfair, and his dark hair curls enough to look annoyingly good.

He reaches your row. And despite the fact that Natasha should logically be the person he came up for, he isn’t looking at her when he speaks.

His eyes land directly on you.

“Steve sent me up,” he says, voice low and smooth, a pleased drawl rolling through his words. “Said he forgot his water bottle or somethin’.”

You blink and try to shake off what his voice does to your body. Crossing one leg over the other, you feign indifference.

“Yeah,” Natasha says, sounding way too delighted. “She’s got it.” She slaps your arm lightly with her hand.

You turn to her confused. “Huh?”

“I asked you to put it in your bag since mine’s smaller.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know it’s Steve’s,” you mutter, then glare at her for a second before reaching down to retrieve the damn thing.

Natasha looks triumphant.

When you pull the bottle free and hold it out to the guy standing in front of you, he takes it with his fingers brushing against yours in a way that feels very intentional.

“Thanks, doll.”

His tone is silk spun into sound and hell, it glides over your skin, making it prickle underneath your sweater.

He has the bottle now but doesn’t step away yet. His eyes linger on you.

“Never seen you ‘round here before,” he remarks, studying you with open interest. His lips tug a little as if he is holding back a full grin. As if he is pleased.

You meet his gaze and swallow, keeping your expression open but neutral even as something sparks under your skin. “Yeah, it’s my first game.”

His lips press together like he’s trying not to fully smirk. “No kiddin’.” There is something about the way he says it that you can’t place.

You lift a brow and tilt your head slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, feigning innocence. “Just figured I woulda noticed you before, is all.”

Oh.

Oh, damn.

You know flirting when you hear it. And that was flirting.

You clear your throat, but a smile is trying to makes its way over your mouth. “Do you say that to all the girls in the stands?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Nah. Just you.”

Heat winds through your stomach. Because there is an easy, matter-of-fact kind of confidence in his voice.

Biting his lip, he studies you some more. Eyes intensely on you. “So you ain’t much of a baseball fan, then,” he hums. His voice is a low timbre.

You scoff, but can’t help the amused smile lifting your lips. “Not quite my thing.”

“Maybe I can change that.”

You almost choke on your next breath, because oh. He’s good. And hell, that came fast.

Natasha cackles. You ignore her.

Your fingers play with the fabric of your jeans. “Smooth,” you assess, unable to help the wry lilt in your voice.

He grins. Lopsided. Charming. Devastatingly handsome, oh god so help me. “Yeah? That workin’ for me?”

You roll your eyes, but it’s all for show. “Debatable.”

Natasha snorts.

His smirk is deep. There is a twinkle in his blue eyes. He stares at you like that for a second.

“I’m Bucky.” His voice is softened a fraction. His tone is genuine.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

His head moves to the side a little, the corner of his mouth twitching. “And you are?”

You tell him your name and his gaze lingers, his smirk edging into something thoughtful.

“Huh,” he muses.

You frown slightly. “What?”

He shrugs, still watching you, maybe even looking a little bashful. “Dunno. Just- I like it. Suits you.”

That somehow feels worse than the flirting.

You feel your face heat and you hate that Natasha can probably see it.

There is a shout coming from the dugout. “Barnes, get your ass down here, now!”

That must be their trainer Fury.

But Bucky stays standing there, looking at you for a beat longer, biting his lip and scratching the back of his neck. Then he takes a step back, spinning the water bottle once in his hand. “Guess I’ll see ya next game, doll,” he charms.

You blink, eyebrows up. “That’s a bold assumption.”

He just grins, throwing you a wink. “Nah. I got a feelin’.”

And just like that, he turns, heading back down toward the field, leaving you sitting there slightly dazed.

It takes a moment for your brain to start working again.

You feel Natasha leaning in but are not ready to meet that sly expression.

“We both know you’ll be here next time.”

Infuriatingly, you know she is right.

“I hate you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The game kicks off, but you are not watching it the way you thought you would.

Because he’s on the field.

And, well damn.

You tell yourself you’re just curious. That’s all it is. You’re not actually watching him. You’re just keeping an eye on him. Casual observation. A purely academic interest in how the game works.

Except, the longer you watch, the more you have to admit that he is good.

Really good.

His movements are seamless. It’s like an unbroken flow of precision and control as if the game is merely responding to him, not the other way around. He’s so natural, seems so at ease, and yet he moves so fast and sharp.

You can see the innate understanding he has, of how the game breathes. It’s impressive.

When he’s at bat, his stance is balanced to perfection, knees bent just enough, shoulders loose but poised. The pitcher winds up, releases, and before you can even register it fully, Bucky crushes that ball.

The sound of it is sharp, a crack that echoes through the field.

You track the ball as it soars high, way over the outfield. And then he’s running. He’s a cloud of white and navy as he rounds first base, feet hitting the dirt hard.

Natasha whistles low beside you. “Not bad, huh?” She doesn’t hide her smirk.

You press your lips together, determined to be neutral. “Yeah, well. Maybe I was just expecting less.”

Your best friend lets out a half-amused, half-exaggerated breath through her nose. “You weren’t.”

You want to throw her a glare but that would mean you’d have to take your eyes off Bucky and somehow you can’t manage that.

So you only huff and lean further into your seat.

But even as he plays, you can’t shake the feeling that perhaps he somehow tries a little more than necessary.

There are subtle indications. The way he lingers just a bit longer when he looks up toward the stands, the slight, extra flourish in the way he moves. The exaggerated ease of it all.

Oh, hell.

As he rounds third base, his gaze snaps up.

Right at you.

And he winks.

Your stomach plummets. Heat boils along your spine, and you freeze for half a second, caught completely fucking off guard.

The grin he shoots you is smug and holds a knowing edge, seeing the way your eyes are already on him, seeing your reaction, and thriving on it.

Natasha grasps your arm, gasping. “Oh my God.”

She is overly dramatic on purpose and you hate it.

You tear your gaze away from him and glare at her. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I'm starting,” she laughs, delighted. “That guy’s showing off for you.”

“He is not,” you hiss, trying and failing to ignore the warmth along your neck. Spreading and spreading up to your cheeks.

“That was textbook showing off, babe.”

You bite your lip, refusing to give her the satisfaction of the reaction she wants to see.

But maybe she’s not wrong.

The game continues, and despite your best efforts, your eyes keep finding him.

The more you watch, the more obvious it becomes.

The smooth way he catches the ball in the outfield, hardly needing to look before launching it straight to second base. The way he moves just a little bit slower after a play like he knows there are eyes on him. The way his grin sharpens when he hears the cheers, the teasing comments from his teammates.

And apparently, Steve notices, too.

Because after a particularly showy throw - one that was definitely more dramatic than necessary - Steve jogs past him and smacks him on the back of the head.

You faintly hear Bucky’s startled grunt from the bleachers.

Natasha snickers beside you.

Steve is muttering something to him, but the brunette only grins, backing away with his arms outstretched and shoulders pulled up in an unbothered shrug. And his eyes immediately find you. You look away hastily.

Your best friend leans in, voice low and teasing. “Change your mind about dating yet?”

Sinking lower in your seat, you move your hand through your hair. “This is ridiculous.”

But even as you say it, you glance back at Bucky.

And he’s still looking at you.

This time, you don’t look away.

Another smack lands across the back of his head and he is forced to drag his eyes away from you to grumble at the guy who is grinning from ear to ear, enjoying whatever the hell this is between Bucky and you.

“You’re actin’ real thirsty right now, Barnes,” the voice of the other player sounds out, loud enough for you to make out some words. “Hey, I mean, I get it. She’s cute. But can you focus, man?”

Flustered, you shove your hands between your thighs and curl a little bit inward.

“Shut up, Sam,” Bucky warns, rolling his shoulders and throwing a hard look at his teammate before jogging back to his position.

You don’t miss the way he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair after lifting the cap for a moment as if he is trying to gather himself.

Your heart is beating in a weird rhythm. Your hands are a little sweaty and you hate that Natasha notices.

“Well, well,” she teases, watching Bucky get into position. “Looks like you’re a motivator.”

“Do you ever stop?”

“Not when it’s this much fun,” she grins, eyes swimming in mischief. “And clearly not when my best friend’s about to have my boyfriend's buddy ask for her number.”

It’s your time to smirk. “Boyfriend?” you chirp. “I'm sure Steve would like to know you calling him that behind his ba-”

“There’s no turning this around, babe. I’m the one with the power here,” she chides, but she is suppressing a smile. “No go ahead and continue to watch your future boyfriend.” She turns your shoulder forward to the field.

“He’s not-”

“Watch.”

You do.

And the longer the game goes on, you try to keep telling yourself that you’re going to stop watching him. But no matter how much you try to focus on anything else - the scoreboard, the crowd, even the actual game - your eyes don’t listen.

They keep wandering back to him. To the way he moves, his effortless command of the field.

It’s the way he seems to own every second he’s out there like he is meant to be on the field. And he seems to love it. His body moves with an instinctive kind of grace, muscles shifting under the snug fit of his uniform, every motion thought through but natural.

When he takes his spot at shortstop, you admire the confidence of his stance. He’s completely at home. He stands relaxed but his eyes are sharp and focused, scanning the field.

And when the ball comes his way, his gloved hand snatches it mid-air before his arm whips it across the diamond in a clean throw.

It’s irritatingly impressive.

You try to convince yourself that he plays like this all the time - that this isn’t for you at all - but there is something nagging at the back of your mind. Something in the way he carries himself, the extra little flair in the way he moves.

He really seems to be putting on a small show and you can’t shake the feeling that you might be the only one in the audience that actually matters to him. You don’t know how to feel about that.

Natasha catches you watching again. “Mhm,” she hums, knowingly. Not at all subtle about it.

You throw her a burning look. “Shut up, Nat.”

She smirks and tilts her head. “You want to be the one he’s showing off for.”

You release a sharp breath, looking at the darkened sky faintly lit by the stadium lights. “If I did, I’d be enjoying it, wouldn’t I? I just think he’s- trying a little hard. Like he’s-”

You don’t get to finish that sentence because the crowd erupts again. The score is tied. This is the final inning.

Your throat constricts as Bucky walks up to plate, adjusting his cap like he’s been waiting for this moment. He taps the bat against the plate once, twice, and tilts his head at the pitcher. You watch the way Bucky’s muscles coil, the readiness, the concentration.

The pitcher winds up. The stadium is silent.

The ball is pitched.

Bucky swings.

Crack.

The sound echoes across the field as Bucky swings and connects perfectly, the entire stadium staring with bated breath. The ball rockets up into the night sky, impossibly high, soaring straight over the center field fence.

It’s gone. A home run.

The crowd erupts, students leaping to their feet, fists pumping, voices carrying through the air. Natasha is already up, grabbing your wrist and yanking you up beside her.

“That’s your man,” Natasha yells over the noise, pointing at the field. “That’s your home run, babe!”

“Oh my god, Nat, he’s not-” you start, but you are cut off by the thunder of feet around you, students leaping onto the bleachers, fists raised, chanting his name.

Just like the others, you are watching Bucky jog around the bases at a confident pace, brushing a hand through his sweaty hair again.

You’re honestly a little overwhelmed with this whole thing. Trying to catch up to the way Bucky moves as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for him, like sending a ball out of the park is just something he does on a casual Tuesday.

And then, just as he crosses home plate, the team swarming him, he turns his head up.

Right to you.

The whole world seems to slow for just a second. Your breath is lost in your throat when your eyes lock. There is a heat in his gaze, but it shifts from exhilaration to something softer. He beams up at you for that special moment, blue eyes shining under the stadium lights, his grin wide.

Your pulse hammers in a way you really don’t want to acknowledge.

You are clapping, like all the others.

And there is something changing in his expression. The corner of his mouth curls in a way as if he can’t believe what he is seeing. His confidence falters for a brief second, replaced by something almost sheepish. His hand scrubs over his face, attention caught by his teammates, but there definitely is a hint of pink dusting his cheeks at your small cheers.

The other players pull him into a rough embrace and for a moment you don’t see him at all, the rest jumps around him in celebration.

“Alright, come on, let’s get down there,” Natasha says, grabbing your wrist again.

“Wait, what?” you sputter as she pulls you toward the railing, making her way down the steps, dragging you with her.

“You are not going to be the only one still sitting while your boyfriend-”

“Stop that-”

“-just won the damn game,” she finishes, waving you off as you scowl at her.

Before you know it, you’re at the very front of the stands, your hands coming together as the roar of the crowd vibrates through your bones.

You see Bucky looking over the chaos, his arms slung around his teammates, his chest rising and falling from exertion, when suddenly, his gaze catches you again.

That bright, wide grin now definitely softens. In a shit, you really were watching kind of way. His blue eyes scan your face as though he is trying to read every single thought rushing through your head right now.

Natasha is practically jumping beside you, cheering happily, so you don’t want to be a bummer and start clapping again. Looking at him.

His smile tries to widen, but Bucky bites his lip. And then, he actually looks bashful.

He dips his head just slightly, running another hand down his face, and this time it’s him looking away first.

But not before you catch that tiny flicker of something almost shy. For all his confidence, for all the easy charm he’s been throwing at you, all the flirtatious lines, something about your reaction to him is what makes him falter that little bit.

And oh how it does something to you. You don’t even fight the little smile on your lips as Natasha bumps her shoulder into yours.

“Shut up,” you murmur, but it sounds too light.

Natasha smirks. “I didn’t say anything.”

You roll your eyes and fold your arms over your chest to hide the way your hands are still itching to continue clapping.

The roar of the crowd slowly begins to settle, the energy of the game remaining charged in the air. The bleachers empty languidly, students pouring onto the field or shuffling toward the exits, their excitement buzzing in hurried conversations and triumphant chants.

The players begin filtering off the field, disappearing into the tunnel leading to the locker rooms. Some of them are still exchanging shoves and laughs, adrenaline still pumping through their veins.

Bucky walks alongside Steve, his uniform tightly handing off his frame.

But before he disappears with the rest of them he glances behind one last time. And, of course, it’s at you again. You shiver.

His glance is just a flicker of blue under the harsh stadium lights but it’s just a beat longer than you would expect. As if he is making sure you’re still here. As if he is worried you won’t be when he comes back out.

Then he’s gone.

“You see that?” Natasha assesses, leaning her weight into one hip, arms crossed.

“See what?” you ask, obviously annoyed.

She’s unbothered. “That boy just looked at you like a man checking to see if his car’s still parked outside.”

You groan. “God, shut up.”

“That never worked on me. You should know better.”

With an impish grin, she tugs at your wrist and guides you away from the bleachers.

“Come on, we’re waiting for them,” she says, already pulling you toward the tunnel exit.

“What? Nat-”

“Well, I’m waiting for Steve,” she says, “and you, my dear, have been eyefucking his best friend all night, so don’t even try to act like you don’t want to see him again.”

“Okay, come on,” you defend. “I have not-”

“-been staring at him, sure,” she interrupts, her smirk widening. “But only every time he wasn’t looking. Which, by the way, wasn’t often.”

You groan again but follow her anyway, because, at this point, you’re not even sure if you’re protesting for show or out of actual resistance.

Minutes go by as more people slowly tickle away, leaving only a few clusters of them lingering around, chatting under the lights.

The air is still warm, but the breeze carries enough of a chill to make you shift on your feet, arms folding over your chest as you wait.

And then, Steve and Bucky emerge from the locker room, side by side.

Steve’s blond hair is still damp from the shower, his team jacket slung over one shoulder. The moment he spots Natasha, his whole face softens. His stride quickens as he reaches her and he pulls her in for a kiss that is far sweeter than you expected from someone fresh out of a game.

Your best friend, for all her teasing confidence tonight, melts against him, fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket.

You feel happiness for her but you look away, feeling like you’re intruding on something intimate.

And before you can prepare yourself, Bucky is standing right in front of you.

“Didn’t think you’d still be here,” he says, voice lower, less playful than before.

His hair is damp too, looking darker like that. He doesn’t wear his cap anymore, short brown tendrils resting on his forehead. His uniform is gone, replaced by a dark hoodie and jeans. And yet, he still looks every bit like the man who just stole the game with a home run. He looks handsome. You can even admit that.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll leave with Nat,” you answer, voice a little quieter than you would have liked it to be.

Bucky smiles. He shifts his weight, hands slipping into his pockets.

“Well, had to make sure you actually enjoyed yourself,” he says, tipping his head to the side, smirk slowly appearing. “Didn’t want you to suffer through it since you’ve already been dragged out here.”

You huff out a small laugh, looking at the ground before up at him again. “It wasn’t terrible.”

“Not terrible?” he echoes, feigning offense. “Sweetheart, I won the damn game. You were cheerin’ for me.”

It’s as if he needed to say it out loud. As if he’s been telling that to himself the whole time.

You bite your lip. Those nicknames will send you tumbling to the floor if you’re not careful. “Yes, well. You put on a good show.”

He grins something slow and smug. “And here I was thinkin’ you weren’t much of a baseball fan.”

You shift, laughing softly. “Still not, really.”

He hums, studying you so deeply. In a gentle way. But he takes his sweet time and it’s making you nervous. “I’ll change your mind.”

Your stomach does something weird - something that has everything to do with the way his voice dips slightly, the way it rumbles out so smoothly.

You narrow your eyes, trying to keep your cool. “I’d like to see you try.”

Bucky chuckles softly, rocking on the balls of his feet. He can’t stop watching you, moving his eyes around your features, your whole frame, as if wondering where you have been the whole time. He looks like he is trying to read every little thing written across your face.

Your chest feels a little too tight, and your pulse picks up the longer you look at him, the longer he looks at you.

The air is cooler now that the game is over, the heat from the crowd dissipating into the open night, and although you feel plenty heated up by his gaze and presence, you instinctively rub your arms, shifting on your feet.

“You cold?” Bucky’s voice is lower, and there is a soft gentleness to his tone, that sounds so sincere, you feel your knees grow weak.

You shake your head. “I’m fine.”

“I’ve got an extra jersey in my bag,” he offers as if he didn’t even hear you, already moving. “Or you can take this one-” He seems about to shrug off his hoodie instead.

You quickly hold up a hand to stop him. “No, really. I’m okay.”

Bucky pauses, squinting at you, mouth quirking as he eyes you a second longer. Then, as if he’s figured something out, his lips form a real smirk again.

“Alright,” he concedes easily, his weight tipping slightly to one side, then back again. “Guess I’ll just give it to you next time, then.”

You freeze just slightly, blinking up at him.

Next time.

You don’t quite know what to do with that.

You clear your throat, forcing words out. “Yeah. Next time.”

Bucky beams.

It’s a full-on, dazzling grin, cheeks high and rosy, eyes bright in a way that makes something overturn in your stomach.

He looks way too pleased with himself now. And you are way too aware of how warm your face feels.

You try to push yourself past the sudden rush of flustered energy. “Well, I guess I will see you around campus, then.”

Bucky hums, considering, still not taking his eyes off you. “Maybe,” his head turns to the side, making a pause. “Or I could just make sure.”

“Make sure?”

He pulls his hands from his hoodie pocket, adjusting his footing and running a hand through his hair, messing with the damp strands a little. He might just seem the slightest bit nervous.

Flipping his palm up expectantly, he looks at you with a glint of hope in his eyes. “Your phone.”

Your stomach does that turning-over thing again as you realize what he’s going on about. “Oh.”

You are fumbling to grab your phone out of your bag, fingers perhaps wavering a little and you are glad that Natasha is preoccupied at the moment to see this. Unlocking it, you hand it over to him.

Bucky takes it gently, fingers brushing yours. Again, it feels intentional.

The glow of the screen illuminates his face as he punches in his number, and presses to call himself so he’ll have your number as well before handing your phone back to you.

You glance down.

A new contact. Bucky Barnes.

Bucky watches you with a soft smile.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve calls, still standing with Natasha. You don’t see the triumphant smile those lovebirds share, busy trying not to show your disappointment of the night coming to an end. “We heading out?”

Bucky sighs, but he doesn’t break eye contact with you just yet.

“Guess that’s my cue,” he murmurs.

“Guess so.”

His feet shuffle against the floor. He seems not quite ready to end this conversation, taking a slow step backward, not turning away from you.

“See you next game, doll,” he says, words landing softer, quieter in a way. He speaks as if it matters.

You fidget with the sleeve of your sweater and let out an almost shy laugh. “Sure.”

Bucky smirks, holding up his phone and waving with it when walking further backward to Steve. “I’ll remind you.”

You watch him walk off with his best friend, watch him throw another grin over his shoulder at you, still feeling the heat that won’t stop tingling along your skin.

Your own best friend throws her arm around your shoulders.

This time, she keeps her mouth shut. She knows she doesn’t have to say anything anymore. There is no denying it any longer and you are well aware.

Because yeah, you might not be into baseball.

But you might be into Number 17.

“Flirting is a promise of something more.”

- Milan Kundera

[littelovelunette]

can you pls write something like Vi and reader use to be together when they were younger but then the whole of s1 happened and they meet again bc after Caitlyn hurt Vi, Vi went to visit the brothel in one if her drunken states and had sex with reader even though she didn't realize who she was until the following morning. they have like a sorta sweet but mostly heavy angsty reconnection and vi explains everything. - tysm i loveeeee reading ur stories honestly they make my day jst better 🩷

Reunite

Thank youuu I'm glad my fics make your day better

Contains angst, smut, fingering, light oral

Violet x Reader

When you had seen Vi enter the brothel you worked at, it felt as if your heart had actually sunk to your stomach— you used to think it was just a stupid saying but, oh, was the feeling so real.

You and Vi had dated when the both of you were teenagers. You both used to once be inseparable until one day Vi disappeared without any trace. You were heartbroken and that's how you financially were impacted due to your emotional distress.

Since you were at a dire need of money, you didn't have much of a choice when you joined the brothel. It was a huge blow to your dignity and you hated how men would ogle and comment so inappropriately over your body, not to mention the horrid acts you had to perform simply to earn some cash.

Vi was so drunk when she paid to have you all to herself for the entire night. You entered the room, feeling slightly sweaty due to anticipation and nervousness.

The once teenager girl was now a very hot, muscle mommy and you felt like you had missed puberty compared to how much Vi'd changed.

"There you are," Vi cooed.

Her hand caressed the side of your face, tilting it to the side before she guided you to the bed where she gestured you to lay with a quiet command.

"Show me your cunt," she whispered.

Your legs slowly spread to expose your most sensitive part to Vi, you had hoped this would've happened differently. In a more fairytale-ish way, but life wasn't always rainbows and unicorns. You had to accept it.

Vi's breath was hot against your pussy, she licked up a bold stripe before steadying two slender fingers against your slit. She didn't wait for you to give her the go and she delved them inside causing your back to arch as you squeezed your eyes, throwing your head to the side.

"Too much?" Vi questioned.

"N-no, keep going," you responded.

Vi's fingers twisted in all angles possible making your toes curl and uncurl. Your eyes rolled back as you whined loudly from the pleasure. You never knew she was so skilled with her fingers.

Her touch was addictive, you wanted more in a concerning manner. You needed her. You needed her badly. Your hips rutted against her fingers needily as she added a third finger, pumping inside your pussy in a rough pace making wet squelching sounds echo in the bedroom.

"Vi," you moaned her name.

Vi paused for a second, "I never told you my name."

You paused as well, freezing in place with Vi's fingers deep in your cunt but before you could respond Vi aimed another deep thrust coercing a louder moan.

"Oh, my god! Oh! I'm gonna come!" You cried out.

Vi smirked slightly, her lip scar accentuated with the smirk. Her fingers only got faster making your legs instinctively try to close. Although, you had engaged in similar acts with your other clients, Vi doing this to you felt more personal.

It felt like love.

You liked sex for once in your life.

Your eyes widened with buildings tears as you finally came undone on her fingers, Vi rode out your orgasm before she slowly pulled her fingers out.

"You can take more, right, baby?" Vi sat up straight between your legs, holding your thighs with both hands.

You nodded.

"Yes, I can..."

"Good, I don't plan on giving you a breather," Vi chuckled.

The night stretched on and you had no idea when you had passed out while Vi was relentlessly fingering your pussy, as if determined to bring every single little string of orgasm out of your pussy.

You woke with a slight pain in your lower abdomen, where your womb was. Probably from the intense orgasms you had had. You turned to the sight and the view of Vi peacefully asleep beside you met your eyes.

She looked so small and vulnerable, her eyebrow slightly furrowed even in her sleep. Her arm was draped around your waist so damn protectively.

You didn't dare move, enjoying the moment you both had in the morning. Waiting for Vi to wake up, you decided to simply appreciate the beauty of the woman. She was naked under the sheets but that didn't bother you. The long lost love of your life was sleeping next to you.

That's what mattered.

Eventually, Vi stirred and woke.

Vi's blue eyes went wide seeing you and she rushed to sit up, wincing at the hangover headache but that was the least of her worries. She mumbled your name under her breath softly, reaching a hand to hold the side of your cheek.

"Am I hallucinating?" Vi whispered.

You shook your head, "No, this is very real."

"There's so much to say," Vi said after a pause, "I don't know where to begin."

"Maybe with an apology?" You crossed your arms as you leaned against the headboard of the bed, "Apology for flaking on me?"

"I'm sorry," Vi muttered, shifting closer, "Although, I know the expiry date on my words have passed years ago."

You laughed, bittersweet, "Yeah."

There was silence.

"There's been so much without you around," Vi mumbled under her breath, "Just so much, so damn much. And I wish I could undo all the stupid things I've done."

"To me? Or without me?" You looked at her.

"Both," Vi sighed.

After a pause, she spoke again, "I dated Caitlyn Kiramman. And before you say anything, she was pretty great actually. I know it goes against all your morals and stuff, but it meant a lot to me— the relationship."

"I'm guessing it fell apart? Or am I the sidechick?" You smirked faintly.

"Yeah, we broke off," Vi looked at the floor.

There was silence again, "I know I can't undo what I've already done but I want you to know I realised my faults in all of the past, I want to make it up to you if you're open to it. Of course, no rush, take your time deciding if you even wanna stick around."

"Vi..."

You saw Vi getting up, the mattress inflating slightly as she got off it. Vi picked her clothes up and started dressing up.

"I shouldn't stay," Vi shoved her hands in her jacket, "It was toxic enough I got drunk and had sex with you. I know it's work for you so... It's probably barely consented."

Vi turned away, "I'll get going."

You got up right before she grabbed the door handle, "Wait."

You pulled Vi by the wrist and pinned her to the wall, getting on your tippy toes to kiss her. Your lips were soft against her slightly chapped ones. Vi's eyes were wide for the first few seconds but then she melted in the kiss.

She craved you.

"I do want to stick around."

"Even after all the things I've done?" Vi looked at you with newfound affection.

"Yes," you affirmed.

Vi's hands encircled around your waist, gripping you closed to herself as if afraid you'd slip in through the gaps of her fingers.

"I'll never leave you again, I promise," Vi whispered.

"I know," you leaned your head against her chest, "I trust you."

[seyaryminamoto]

The Shadows in her Reflection: Sokkla Saturdays 2023

Rated M

Read on FF.net//AO3

"So… where to now?" Sokka asked, once they were airborne in the sky lit by a dim moon and a mantle of stars.

Azula shrugged: she poured a small cup of water for herself, only seeing a dark reflection of Yue upon it, as good as a shadow… but it would work. It always did. Even in the darkness, there were enough glimmers of brightness that allowed Yue to peer through to see everything she could in the material world.

"What's next, fishy princess?" Azula asked, dismissively. Her earlier thoughts on her common ground with Yue were better off set aside, for if she were any nicer to the girl after that, she'd most likely become even more annoying than she often was… "Where would you like to go? You didn't see much of the spring, but perhaps you could in another place of the Earth Kingdom…"

"I… I don't really know. I guess I feel a little anxious now, after what happened in Kyoshi Island. Maybe… maybe I'm not the one who should pick our next destination."

"Well, now: what happened last time was Sokka's fault for not telling us what was going on," Azula said. Sokka groaned. "What? It's true. She thinks it's her fault that you went through that because she chose to go to Kyoshi Island…"

"Wait, that's not…! Yue, Azula is right," Sokka said, approaching the Princess and gazing into the water… which, as ever, showed no one to him. Even so, he hardened himself and continued. "It's on me. I should've told you both what the problem was all along. I wasn't honest and… and I swear I will be, going forward! Over everything!"

"Everything?" Azula asked, with a smirk. "Then do tell, what exactly do you think of me?"

"W-what? What was that?" Sokka blinked blankly.

"I just want you to be fully bluntly honest and tell me… just how much you trust me," Azula said, with a mocking grin.

Clearly, she was expecting an answer spoken to appease her. Otherwise, she would anticipate, instead, blunt cruelty, the admission that he was only here because Yue was, too…

"I wouldn't be here, on this balloon, if I didn't trust you," Sokka said. Azula raised a suspicious eyebrow. "It's true! From the moment you started saying things that nobody but Yue and I could know… I realized you weren't lying, even if it was so much easier to pretend you were. No, I don't trust everything you translate from Yue to me because oh, I know you're a troublemaker and you love making fun of me. But… all in all, I think we're on the same boat, or balloon, in our case. I trust you to watch my back, just as I intend to watch yours. And I trust that we'll stand strong together until we fix what's going on with Yue. By then, eh, all bets will be off and I have no idea what you'll choose to act like, but right now, Azula, I do trust you. I'd have turned you in to your brother since day one if I didn't."

"Huh. Well, you sound relatively honest. At least you didn't try to convince me that you've always had a soft spot for me, or so," Azula said, with a dry grin. Sokka smiled slightly, and she raised her eyebrow. "Or… did you?"

"I… didn't exactly have a soft spot for you, alright? It's not like that!" Sokka said, but his bashful smile convinced Azula of the opposite.

"You're… lying?" she said, blinking blankly. "That makes no sense. Say you do have a soft spot for me. Do it."

"Why would you want me to do that? Azula…!"

"I want to be able to tell apart your truths and your lies," Azula said, eyes wide. "Because it's alarming that it sounds like you're lying about what you shouldn't be. I'm not… not your friend. I haven't been, ever before, we're just stuck together because our journey is forcing us to be. If I mock you about your weakness towards me, it's because you're expected to be exasperated and to react adversely to it and amuse me by doing so: it's not supposed to be an invitation to confess that… that I'm right to claim as much."

"Well, good, because I haven't confessed any such thing," Sokka said, arms folded over his chest.

"… Say you're a four-hundred-foot-tall purple platypus bear with pink horns and silver wings."

"No."

"Then say something utterly stupid like…! Like that you want to get back together with Suki!" Azula said. Sokka scoffed.

"Not happening."

"Then… say you think my brother's the brightest man in the world!"

Sokka outright burst out laughing.

"… And yet, you're trying to deny that you have a soft spot for me, and it sounds like you're lying," Azula said, frowning. Sokka raised his hands defensively.

"Okay, you know what? I'll tell you three different sentences. You'll have to figure out which is true, and which isn't. I get to choose what I say and that way you won't embarrass me with anything weird," he said. Azula scoffed.

"Cowardly, but fine," she said, tapping her foot on the balloon's floor. "Go for it."

"Okay. First statement: I once ate an entire deer-antelope when I was on the road with my friends during the war. Second statement: I asked Yue's dad for her hand in marriage. Third statement: I saved a village from a flood and they built a statue in my honor."

"You're full of shit. All of them were lies."

"You… hey! The deer-antelope could be true!" Sokka squealed, blushing.

"Why, while I doubt you could've eaten the bones and every single organ, for I'm sure some of it might even be poisonous, for starters…" Azula said. Sokka winced. "I still suppose that's not what you meant. You were trying to say you ate all the edible parts?"

"Yes…?"

"Still a lie. Sounds like you didn't do it during the war but at some other point in time."

"Huh. Wow. You… you could figure out even that much?" Sokka asked, eyes wide. Azula smirked.

"Don't underestimate me," she said.

"You're scary," he said. Azula's smirk widened.

"See, you're telling the truth now. Very good. Great progress. Now, then: did you have a soft spot for me or not?"

"I…! Okay, fine: I may have thought your fire was the coolest I'd seen, and I might have had… weird thoughts after what happened in the tunnels between us! And maybe I drew Suki firebending once and I kept thinking about you for no reason when I did it, but…! That doesn't mean anything, does it? It doesn't! That's not a soft spot! It's just…! You impressed me, that's it! Doesn't mean more than that!"

Azula froze in place. Sokka shivered under her gaze. It seemed she grew more horrified by the minute… and then she lowered her gaze.

"You're telling the truth."

"Of course I am!" Sokka scoffed.

"That makes no sense," Azula said, looking at him in confusion. "Sokka… maybe you're the one who needs an asylum. Yes, you certainly do…"

"Why is it that hard to fathom that I could be impressed by you?" Sokka sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Well…! Because I thought you hated me!"

Sokka blinked blankly and looked at her in confusion. She was the one who looked scared now, instead. He raised his eyebrows.

"After all this time, you thought I…?" he started, but she cut him off.

"No! I mean, I thought that everything that had happened over the past months has changed some things between us, but back in the day, you should've hated me! I did things that… that were meant to make you hate me! You're not about to take that from me, damn you. I did it all on purpose!"

"Of course you did," Sokka said, with a dismissive shrug. "Same's true for your brother and I came around with him in due time…"

"Well, my brother wasn't competent enough to nearly kill the Avatar…" Azula said, eyeing him skeptically.

"Yeah, he wasn't. Seriously, Azula, I'm not sure whether you want me to sing your praises or denounce you as a living nightmare," Sokka said, with a slight smile. "You're weird."

"What's weird is you not acknowledging simple, obvious facts and revealing things that… that make no sense!" Azula said, folding her arms firmly over her chest and glaring at him. "I know we didn't meet each other frequently, but… as far as I could tell, we were rivals."

"You and me?" Sokka asked, amused.

"You were the brains of their team. And curses, did they need you, because the lot of them could not be dumber if they tried," Azula said: Sokka laughed carelessly, his ego decidedly boosted by her claims. "If you say that you actually were admiring me the whole time…!"

"I didn't say the whole time, okay? I'm just… honestly admitting to myself, too, that you were way more impressive than I wanted to accept!" Sokka laughed, leaning against the side of the engine. Azula scoffed. "You think I was conscious of the fact that I thought you were impressive? I wasn't! It only just clicked when you asked me that, if anything."

"Then… you were determined to dislike me, antagonize me and have nothing to do with me before," Azula asked. Sokka rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Azula. I was an idiot who couldn't see you for all you were worth, and I got swept up into thinking that whatever stories Zuko shared about you had to be true, and only upon spending as much time as I have with you, I've come to realize that you're actually… a lot cooler than I ever wanted to think you were. And upon accepting that, I've realized that maybe even back then, I did crazy stuff like drawing Suki firebending because I thought you were damn incredible. See?"

"Well… that's a little better. Not as disquieting," Azula said, with a proud grin. Sokka sighed.

"I'm not exactly proud of how… how any of us have treated you since the war ended," he said. Azula grimaced. "I know, I know, you were looking to anger us, to annoy us, to mess with us… I get that. I respect that. I accept that. You can very well accept, too, that we were idiots to let you succeed at that as easily as we did."

"Heh," Azula said. Sokka smirked at her. "That's the real problem, then. You don't like that I won and proved myself correct in my assumptions about all of you."

"Damn right I don't. You and I are fated to fight each other at everything and anything, as far as I can tell," Sokka said, dramatically. Azula smirked. "So, if you're sure we're never going to be friends, or that I should hate you, or that anyone showing you sympathy or empathy is wrong… well, clearly I have to be contrarian and prove you wrong."

"Ha. That's what this is about, then?" Azula asked. Sokka shrugged. "Or are you just saying that so I won't be distressed about your weird generosity and surprisingly favorable image of me anymore?"

"If I were, what about it? You'd still be contrarian yourself, and you'd still fight me about it, and I'd keep enjoying this long, spiraling banter that will take us nowhere," Sokka said, beaming proudly. Azula winced.

"Enjoying? So… you want to piss me off into falling silent in retaliation. That's what you…"

"No! I didn't say that!" Sokka squealed, though he froze in place upon processing her words. "Though, come to think of it, we got carried away here. Didn't we, uh, tell Yue to tell us where to go next? And then we wound up arguing about…"

"Right. Uh, right," Azula grimaced, slightly flustered, glancing down at the reflection on the water again.

"No, no, do go on! It's fun to hear you two argue! Like… like two master strategists on a battlefield of words!"

"What do you mean, 'like'? We ARE two master strategists on a battlefield of words!" Azula exclaimed, cheeks redder yet. Sokka raised his eyebrows upon hearing her impassioned exclamation. "She… ugh, never mind. Yue, just… choose our destination, will you? We can't float like this forever."

"Well… I don't really have a plan in mind, I said. I think it's okay if you choose, actually. You, or Sokka… if there's any places you would like for me to see, anywhere important for you, or valuable, I'd love to see it. But, well, it's up to you now…"

"Anywhere important?" Azula said, blinking blankly. "Huh… come to think of it, you wouldn't really have a lot of ideas about the world considering you were stuck in the Northern Water Tribe for most of your life. You'd only have a handful of stories to know what the rest of the world was like…"

"She doesn't know where to go next?" Sokka asked.

"She wants us to choose, rather. And she says… maybe places that are valuable to us. Important," Azula said. "I don't really think there's anything of the sort for me, though. As much as I may have achieved important things in certain places, I can't pretend that I ever…"

Sokka waited for her to finish the sentence… watching directly as her face shifted upon the arrival of an unexpected idea. She blinked blankly as her eyes brightened… and then she smirked.

"Ba Sing Se."

"W-wait, what?!" Sokka exclaimed.

"Ba Sing Se! The location of my greatest victory in the war. Evidently, there's no grander place than that to visit," Azula smiled proudly. "And Yue certainly should see what other cities look like. Kyoshi Island wasn't particularly impressive, as far as infrastructure was concerned…"

"Are you out of your mind?" Sokka said, startling Azula.

"I thought the general consensus was that I am, actually…" she responded, simply. Sokka winced.

"Okay, maybe that's the wrong question to ask but…" he said, hands on his temples as Azula regarded him with perplexity. "Azula, there were two places where you were a wanted criminal before we joined forces, you know? And sure, now apparently Zuko is spearheading a massive manhunt for you, because of course he is! But before that? He wanted to capture you, and… and Kuei wanted to execute you. Remember Kuei? Earth King of Ba Sing Se?"

"Eh…" Azula said, waving a hand dismissively. "I thought you were going to bring up something genuinely worrisome. That slug wouldn't even bat an eyelash if we hide properly under his large nose. And it is large enough that we could hide under it, too…"

"Yeah, yeah, you're very funny," Sokka grimaced, as Azula carelessly laughed over the king's appearance. "You do realize that getting caught by Kuei's forces is way worse than by Zuko's? There's a slight chance that he was just moody when he wrote that he wanted you dead or alive, you know? Kuei's not kidding."

"He might not be, but he's full of it anyway," Azula said, shrugging. "He took back the Dai Li I poached right under that huge nose, remember? For whatever reason, they apparently manipulated him into thinking that they actually didn't want to betray him and that I was oh, so scary…"

"Which is why you shouldn't go anywhere near him!" Sokka squeaked. "If they deceived him even more than Long Feng alone did… you really don't expect you could trick him too, do you?"

"I think I can deceive him enough if I must. As long as I'm careful and I don't call unwanted attention towards myself, a proper disguise would get me into that city without a hitch," Azula said, with a shrug. "I know where to go. The Dai Li showed me enough of their headquarters and ways to access them in the past. All we need to do is get there… and we'll get inside the city pretty quickly after that. You'll see."

"Azula…" Sokka said, grimacing. "I don't like this."

"You don't have to," Azula shrugged. "But if I must compromise with you, then you get to pick our next destination, how about that?"

"You're not going to make me like it any better with that concession… though maybe that's not the worst idea," Sokka said, tapping his chin. "Still! You have to swear you'll be careful. I don't want you jumping into danger recklessly just because you have a taste for causing chaos when you shouldn't."

"Oh, please. What harm could I possibly bring the great, pristine, beautiful city of Ba Sing Se?"

Her devious smile spoke for itself. Obviously, she was up to no good. Evidently, Sokka would have to keep an eye on her to make sure she behaved herself at all… but even before agreeing to this plan, he had the bad feeling that Azula would, of course, make this next stage of their journey much more complicated than it needed to be.

"What… what does Yue think?" Sokka asked, grimacing. Azula huffed.

"What does that matter?" Azula asked. "She told me to choose, I chose. If you're going to mutiny against me too…"

"I'm not mutinying against anyone, I'm asking what Yue has to say about this," Sokka huffed.

Azula grimaced, glancing into the water warily again. The shadowy silhouette of Yue greeted her right back… but she couldn't quite see her properly. Was she smiling? Was she enthusiastic? Was she…?

"Ba Sing Se… I can't wait to go!"

For once, Yue's enthusiasm didn't register as false to Azula, whether because she finally had learned to give her words credit or not. Perhaps she simply wanted to annoy Sokka, instead… but when she smirked with unrestrained deviousness, Sokka knew he was outnumbered, and outmatched.

"Ugh. Well. Fine, then," he sighed, in defeat.

"Not going to accuse me of lying, are you?" she snickered.

"You're not lying. You were too genuine in that reaction. Curses, but we're going to be VERY careful, you hear me?" Sokka exclaimed. "We're not going to get caught. We'll go undercover, we'll have false information to feed them, we'll hide properly whenever we need to, and no one will know the Fire Lord has a bounty on your head. Understood?"

"Understood," Azula smirked at him. "Thank you so much for your cooperation. I'm sure Yue is stoked for it, too…"

Sokka sighed: Azula didn't need to manipulate him with tall tales about Yue's reaction to his choices… but she certainly thought she did. All in all, Sokka just wanted Yue to be happy, and right now, it sounded like she genuinely, truly was. It made sense, too: Ba Sing Se was, quite likely, the most famous city in their world. She'd definitely want to see it… but it'd be up to Sokka to ensure that the three of them made it in and out of the city as safely as possible. Though, of course, Yue wouldn't be in any genuine danger… but if he were separated from Azula at any point in time, he'd be cut off from them both. He needed to ensure they would always be within reach… most of all, for Azula's safety. Zuko's newest demands and rewards for Azula's capture were nothing to scoff at, even if Azula refused to accept that.

Their journey to Ba Sing Se, thus, started out as a strange odyssey: after around two weeks of traveling, they arrived at night, and they concealed the hot-air balloon furtively near Lake Laogai. From there, Azula knew of an entrance into the catacombs where the Dai Li's headquarters stood: it came as no surprise to either of them to find that the tunnels appeared to have seen use in recent times, but they paid no heed to that as Azula led them into a particular section where they could find Dai Li uniforms that would suit them. Awkward as it was to dress in their attire, they left the tunnels after disguising themselves as members of the controversial organization. They climbed through an unpleasant sewer, and then they journeyed into the Middle Ring, where they could purchase proper casual clothes without arousing suspicion.

After a longer shopping session than Azula anticipated – Sokka was terribly picky about fashion, as it turned out –, they found an empty building they could sneak into, a house vacated some time ago. Sokka couldn't hide his anxiety over sneaking around to that extent… Azula, it seemed, was entirely used to living her life that way. Her ability to undo locks genuinely startled Sokka, and she moved with confidence that gave away that she didn't expect to ever be caught.

The outfit Sokka picked appeared to be suitable for respectable students of Ba Sing Se University, whereas Azula's clothes were slightly more humble than that.

"You'll call too much attention to yourself," Azula said.

"But this was the only thing that would suit me!" Sokka pouted. Azula rolled her eyes.

"Anyone who knows you will take one look at you and know who you are. You need to present yourself differently. Like… loosen your hair. That might help, actually. I can do the same with mine…"

Her hair fell into an unkempt mess as she did. She shook her head, and instead of it finding some manner of order, it only grew messier still. Sokka chuckled, shaking his head and fishing a comb out of his pack.

"Come here, come on. You can walk around with your hair down, but you'd better not do it like that," he said, grabbing her shoulder and reeling her towards himself. Azula scoffed.

"You… can style my hair?" she asked, perplexed.

"Indeed," Sokka said, proudly.

"Then you definitely aren't royal. I bet Yue can't do her own hair either."

"Hey!"

Azula smiled as Sokka worked to smooth every strand of hair upon her head. Little by little, he worked out all the knots until her long dark tresses were in better shape than they had seen in years. Azula hummed as Sokka stepped in front of her, eyeing her with an expert eye before slipping the comb over her scalp again, flipping hair from one side to the other. Azula winced, feeling her fringe switching sides abruptly.

"What exactly are you…?" she said.

"Giving you a slight makeover to make you less recognizable, of course!" Sokka smiled. "I think… yeah. This should be better."

"Half my face is covered by my hair," Azula rebuffed. Sokka shrugged.

"Less chances that they'll discover you that way. See, the shadow of your hair, falling like that over your exposed eye… it makes it harder to tell its color. So, right now? You look like an ordinary, boring, simple peasant."

He finished the sentence with a proud smirk. Azula's eyebrow twitched.

"I know that's the point of what we're doing… but you make it sound unpleasant," Azula huffed. "And what about you, pray tell? You're not going to cover your face that way, are you?"

"I'm not going to need to do that. My hair falling over either side of my face will take care of that too," Sokka said, reaching up and removing his hair tie.

Azula blinked blankly when his hair fell around his face, framing it smoothly. He combed it properly too, ensuring to gather enough hair on his bangs, at either side of his head to create the shadows he was counting on to shroud his eye color.

"There we go!" he said, smiling proudly. "Or, at least, I hope so. I'd have to look in a mirror to… oh. Oh, hey! I have an idea! Uh, Azula? You okay?"

"I… I'm fine," Azula said, with a dry grin: she hadn't just wound up dazed by the sight before her, or had she?

But the truth was that, while she wasn't blind to the fact that Sokka was a perfectly handsome man, she had never seen him with his hair down before. Somehow, its effect on her caught her entirely off guard… and she chided herself inwardly for it. What was wrong with her? She had seen handsome men before. She hadn't been particularly likely to interact with them much, sure, but that didn't mean there was any sense to feeling any given way just being around Sokka when his hair was down…

"You sure?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow: curses, why was he that much more appealing like this? She snarled, shaking her head.

"I just… need to go to the bathroom," she lied. Sokka hummed.

"Well, if you can wait, I have one last thing we need to buy. Then… we could find an inn, if you want," Sokka suggested, smiling. "Maybe a drink or two would be a good idea to get by after the crazy months we've spent on the road, don't you think?"

"Heh. Sure," Azula sighed. "Whatever, let's just… hurry."

Sokka led her out of the building stealthily, and they joined the main streets of the Middle Ring as inconspicuously as possible. People appeared to be in good spirits, on what might just be another ordinary night in Ba Sing Se…

Sokka beelined for a specific shop, one Azula didn't recall noticing ever before. She waited outside, taking advantage of the opportunity to cool off, to grow used to her new hairstyle, to shake away any stupid thoughts that crossed her mind. It felt like crossing a line, somehow… Sokka was her traveling companion right now, and as willing as he was to participate on this journey, it wasn't as though he truly would be here if Yue weren't forcing him to be… well, for that matter, neither would Azula. They had been brought together by the foolish, annoying Princess… the Princess Sokka loved, and who loved him right back. That was how it was, how it always would be. Even if they had given up on ever returning to each other, if either one ever found someone else – could spirits have relationships? Was that even possible? –, she certainly wasn't going to be that someone else for Sokka, not a chance. She knew what it felt like to be betrayed by a friend, and she refused to be like…

A friend?

Was Yue her friend?

The thought gave her pause. She frowned as she tried to reason with it, but she found no immediate answer to that question. Yue was annoying, persistent, she was constantly lying to appease her…

But she had been part of her life for a whole year now. Azula firmly believed that she was constantly lying to her to try to get to her good side, if just for the amusement of making Azula do utterly nonsensical things, such as going on this journey, or the one to the North Pole… but beyond that, Yue was somehow the most constant presence she'd had with her through a set period of time since…

Since ever, likely.

Everyone else seemed to grow sick of her over time. Her own mother had forsaken her, so had her father. Lo and Li would come and go on occasion, but as soon as she gave them a chance to choose whether to defy her and stay, or obey her so only one would leave, they both had taken off and abandoned her, too. Mai, Ty Lee, the Kemurikage… even Zuko. No one stayed, not for her. They would for others, no doubt. But her? She was fated to be alone, for all she knew.

Was that true to Yue, too? Was that why they were stuck with each other now?

Azula frowned as she pondered that last train of thought: if Yue was her friend, Azula certainly hadn't been much of one for Yue across all this time, anyway. Where she had gone out of her way to spend time with Mai and Ty Lee, to recruit them for her cause and set them free from their respective miserable situations – well, Ty Lee had claimed she was happy in the circus, but she hadn't returned to the circus after the war's end, so perhaps the fool had been lying to herself in the end –, she was simply traveling with Yue to get rid of her. If she was her friend… it stood to reason that she shouldn't want to get rid of her.

So… it would be better if she weren't her friend! It wasn't as though Azula had a clue if Yue even thought of her as one, either. She was more of an unwilling captor, maybe, that moody, scary Princess who wouldn't cut her any slack. She was thinking too much of things. She was making too much of everything. She had no friends. She hadn't had real friends at any point in her life. Every single bond she'd ever known was…

"Here."

Azula blinked herself out of the depressing thoughts when she heard Sokka's voice again.

And then she saw Yue, standing right behind her in the mirror Sokka showed her.

Both Azula and Yue were startled to see each other without any warning. But the Moon Spirit smiled, waving enthusiastically at Azula, who blinked blankly upon clasping the hand mirror, taking it for herself.

"What is…?" she said. Sokka smiled.

"Not that it's a bad thing that you've always resorted to drinks and liquids to see Yue, you know? Means you stay hydrated!" he said. "But I thought… it might be easier for you to see her if you had a mirror. This way you can communicate with her whenever you need to."

"You did this so I…?" Azula said. Sokka smiled a little.

"Well, I'd say 'we', but frankly I can't hear her, so… it's up to you in the end," he said.

Azula grimaced, glancing into the mirror's reflection: she focused on Yue, who grinned giddily and waved in her direction again. Azula gritted her teeth, purposefully avoiding looking at herself in full detail. It was one thing to do it in reflective surfaces that just happened to be there… a whole other matter to do it with full awareness that she'd see herself upon raising a mirror.

"Thank you, I think. I suppose. It's almost more of a gift for yourself than me, but thank you regardless," Azula said, lowering the mirror. Her voice gave away that she spoke the words out of being taught to do so in such circumstances, rather than because she truly felt them. Sokka raised an eyebrow.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine, I… you wanted drinks?" Azula said, with a dry grin. "Let's do that. Let's get drunk, why not?"

"Azula…"

The Princess didn't listen to anything he might say, but her demeanor gave away that she might not be outraged at him as much as she was frustrated by reasons beyond his understanding. Sokka eyed her warily but he simply followed her in silence through the streets, until she found a suitable location where they could go to the bathroom and drink their fill.

She surprised him, though, by being so irritable over too many people in her vicinity inside the tavern that she wound up purchasing multiple bottles and marching off to drink elsewhere, so they wouldn't be disturbed by noise and unwanted company. Her chosen location was the rooftop of another empty building – he suspected it was a school of ladies of some sort, akin to the haiku recital society he had seen in the Upper Ring long ago. Bereft of anyone using it at these hours, it was ripe for Azula's mischief… though for now, it seemed that would only be a matter of sitting on the green tiles and handing a bottle over to Sokka while she began draining hers. She hadn't looked at the mirror again, and the bottle was too dark for Yue to see her, or for her to see Yue in it.

"You do this often?" Sokka asked, sitting beside her. Azula hummed.

"Not really. Not much," she said, with a deep sigh.

Despite herself, Azula drew the mirror then… but she didn't aim it towards herself. Instead, she held it towards the city, hearing Yue gasp upon the abrupt movement she made.

"Can you see?" Azula asked.

"Just… a little. It's so big! It doesn't fit in the frame all that well…"

"Then you can see it, huh?" Azula said, reeling the mirror back slightly. "Guess it's because I'm holding it. Sokka, you hold it."

"Uh, wait…!" Sokka said, taking the mirror. He blinked blankly and held the mirror, aimed towards the city… then he turned it in his hand, to find nothing but his own reflection. "I see nothing. Does she?"

Azula raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response by Yue… then, she heard a sigh.

"I'm afraid I don't. I… I wish I could, but…"

"Well, I can hear her. She might be able to hear you, too, but she can't see anything unless I'm holding it, or unless I'm in the frame?" Azula said, blinking blankly. Sokka angled the mirror towards her, and Azula almost recoiled but she held strong. Yue's head popped up, over her shoulder, and she waved at her again. Azula nodded. "Anyway… welcome to Ba Sing Se, Yue."

"It's so big!" she laughed, beaming at Azula. The fallen Princess smiled and nodded.

"Too big, in some ways. And honestly, it's not really that impressive when you've seen better."

"Right, of course, the Fire Nation Capital is better…" Sokka smirked. Azula nodded haughtily.

"If you don't have enough pride in your homeland to say the same thing, that's on you. I certainly believe mine has nothing to envy Ba Sing Se for… but then again, maybe Zuzu has run it to the ground by now and it's nothing but ashes at this point," Azula reasoned, reaching for the mirror and taking it from Sokka's hands.

"I can't imagine the pressure of ruling over so many people," Yue said. "It's… it's like half the world's population must live here."

"Huh. Maybe they do," Azula reasoned, gazing into the distant Lower Ring. "Still, if you're imagining ruling and lording over them is a great, heavy responsibility, I… wouldn't know. I shirked it off to someone else and left after I took over the place."

"Pfft. What?" Sokka smiled. Azula raised an eyebrow.

"You thought I was ruling Ba Sing Se from the Fire Nation?" she asked.

"I was sure you were Earth Queen, honestly," Sokka said. Azula scoffed at the notion.

"I'm a Fire Nation woman, I wouldn't care to be Earth Queen even if I took over their city. Not even… Lava Queen," she said, with a haughty grin. Sokka smirked, shaking his head at her mirth. "I found one of those Joo Dees, the ones who worked with the Dai Li, and I left the job of administrating the city to her. I'd spent more than enough effort taking over the city as it was."

"You did, huh?" Sokka raised an eyebrow. "Well, strange to think that your choice was probably the more morally correct one in that instance."

"It was morally correct to leave Joo Dee in charge of Ba Sing Se?" Azula smirked.

"Not because she was the best candidate for ruling, no," Sokka said, eyes wide. "But, hey, at least she was an Earth Kingdom citizen. A puppet government may not have been a way to respect that you didn't actually belong here, but you could've done worse anyhow. You could've had a Fire Nation soldier ruling the city, for instance…"

"Well, there were none at hand at the time," Azula smiled. "Perhaps that's all that guided my choices. Stop trying to make me a hero or a misunderstood villain, because I'm neither."

"I'm not trying to make you into anything. I'm perfectly happy to accept that you're… Azula," Sokka said, with a careless shrug. The Princess smiled slightly. "Still, for someone as twisted as you try to be, you sure aren't all that terrible. You should work on that."

"Say what?" Azula asked, raising her eyebrows in evident affront. Sokka smirked.

"I'm just saying, you're not really as bad as you pretend you are. Or, uh, as some people think you are. I sure thought you were before, but after all this?" Sokka said, with slight amusement. "You're actually just…"

"You're pissing me off," Azula said. Sokka blinked blankly. "Deliberately. You're saying that because you know it will set me off and I'll react in a stupid way. I'm too sober for that still, you know?"

"Well, damn, I was just playing around…" Sokka pouted. Azula huffed, raising a hand just to flick his shoulder.

"Idiot," she said. Sokka snickered.

"Say…"

"What is it?" Azula raised an eyebrow, picking up the mirror anew.

"How did you do it?"

"How did I do what, exactly?" Azula retorted. Yue sighed, though she smiled expectantly within the mirror.

"Take this city? I… I'm curious. You're very daunting, but that sounds unreal. And you did it when you were fourteen? I… I only lived up until sixteen, but the very notion of going to war and conquering anything would have never crossed my mind. I mean, clearly not, my people weren't exactly looking to do that, but… as wrong as it was, I still think it's somewhat impressive. If it's okay that I say so…"

"You're twisted, Princess Yue," Azula said, with a devious smirk. Sokka winced upon hearing those words. "You think it might be fun for me to share the tale of how I took over Ba Sing Se?"

"Maybe she wants you to prove me wrong," Sokka suggested, bumping her elbow gently with his own. "Show her just how awful you really are! Tell her all about your very darkest achievement…!"

"Greatest, you'll mean," Azula huffed, taking a swig of her drink and shaking her head. "Unrefined fool. At any rate, I guess we'll see if hearing about it will change your mind and keep you from saying stupid things…"

"That's a big 'if', Azula," Sokka smirked. Azula laughed, shaking her head.

"At least you have some self-awareness. Good for you," she said.

She cleared her throat and, for once, she allowed herself to return to the past without bitterness. It didn't fully process in her mind just yet, but Sokka's teasing tone didn't feel like judgment. He was playful, silly, even… and she felt compelled to share the truth with Yue. Somehow, it seemed that the Moon Spirit might just realize how different they truly were once she heard that story.

"The takeover of Ba Sing Se began when I tracked the Avatar's shaggy beast for a second time," Azula said, with a careless sigh. "And then I bumped into Suki. My first impression? She was nothing noteworthy to write home about."

"You defeated her pretty harshly, didn't you?" Sokka asked, with a slight grimace. Azula smirked.

"She didn't stand a chance. Neither did the rest of her warriors. It's anyone's guess how they ever accepted Ty Lee in their ranks after she humiliated them quite as badly as she did, while as good as rejoicing in having proven that we were stronger and prettier than them. Don't ask me at what point the second thing was part of the contest, but…"

"Eh. It's Ty Lee," Sokka concluded. Azula laughed and nodded in agreement with his simple statement.

"Either way, once beaten, I could tell Suki was the leader and I decided I'd impersonate her. Sometime along being captured, once she was tied up and dressed down…"

"Dressed down?" Sokka repeated, with an awkward smile. Azula shrugged.

"We didn't leave them fully naked, no, they kept their undergarments, we weren't entirely determined to steal their dignity… but as they were allies of the Avatar, and once I realized that they meant to head into the city soon, our course was clear," Azula said, with a smirk.

"How did you realize that?" Sokka asked.

"Well, she wasn't exactly subtle, helping the bison as she did," Azula shrugged. "Didn't help that she shouted that you'd come save her, so…"

"She really did that?" Sokka asked.

"How do you think I learned your name?" Azula said, matter-of-factly, before clearing her throat: "'You won't get away with this! Sokka and the others will come find us! Once Appa goes back to them, they'll give you what you deserve!' And so on, and so forth."

"Uh… damn," Sokka smiled awkwardly. Azula shrugged.

"She was so certain of it that I just locked her and the others inside the train-tank so that they'd stop being a bother until I seized the city. After that? I brought them along to the Fire Nation, but since she seemed to be the leader and quite so certain that you'd save her… I singled her out. I figured she was the perfect bait to lure out the Avatar, or at least, you. Then, if you showed up, you'd be better bait for the Avatar yourself, if Suki didn't suffice for that purpose. But of course, I wasn't about to leave the bait in my father's doorstep, so I sent her to the Boiling Rock instead. Much better: you wouldn't be all that likely to escape from there if you ever made it that far to save her, so…"

"You really had all that planned to deal with me?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged.

"And you managed to outsmart me even so. Though I can only wonder if that was intentional on your part at all," Azula frowned, eyeing him warily. "The truth is, at first I didn't even think to do that to Suki. It almost sounded like she was talking nonsense, I'd never seen her with your group after all. But I knew it was possible that you were in a relationship and I just hadn't seen evidence of it myself… thus, I decided to withhold my judgment until I confirmed you truly cared for her at all. I got my answer for that later… but we're supposed to do this chronologically, aren't we?

"Point is, after I realized that they were expected inside the city, or that they would be eventually, I began concocting plans while in the city's outskirts to obtain all the information I might need to tear Ba Sing Se apart from the inside out. I had secured a way in… or almost, anyway. It took a ridiculously long time for Mai and Ty Lee to decide which Kyoshi Warrior outfit to take, in fact. Pair of fools kept complaining about how to mimic their hairdos, or the face paint, or whether the armor was unflattering or not… I, evidently, didn't bother doing anything to my hair beyond taking Suki's headpiece and putting it in place. Either way, we gave matters some time as I prepared our grand entrance into the city… and apparently, I handled matters far better than I realized, considering you and the Avatar weren't in the city by the time we got in."

"We'd only just left," Sokka said, with a sad smile.

"If you hadn't, our plan would have been sabotaged quite early on," Azula reasoned. Sokka blinked blankly and grimaced.

"So, uh, wait. Basically, if I had chosen to go see Suki before I went to meet my dad, I might have torn apart your plan before it could even begin…?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged.

"And you might have saved your girlfriend too. Oh, Sokka the Hero…" Azula said, with a falsely dreamy voice. Sokka laughed… though his eyes were wide with horror. "What? Regretting it now, are you?"

"Kind of? I… I can't believe I could've stopped you. I always thought it was impossible," he admitted. "Felt like you just snuck in and were a relentless, unstoppable force of some sort."

"I kind of was," Azula shrugged. "But that's not effortless. Anything out of place, anything that could've given us away, was deeply dangerous. That's why we captured your sister as soon as she ran right to us. It was kind of funny, actually: she gave away that Zuko was in the city too, and I hadn't accounted for that at all, initially… but once that happened, it was like everything was falling perfectly into place. Oh, what a feeling that was…"

She smiled deviously, and Sokka rolled his eyes but smiled at her obvious pride.

"And I could've deprived you from it if I'd just… decided checking on Suki was more important than setting out to see my dad at once," Sokka reasoned, with a dry grin. "Shit. I really had been neglecting her in a million ways since early on and I didn't even realize it…"

"Be a better boyfriend next time and you might just stop a city's conquest simply over wanting to kiss your girl," Azula smirked teasingly. Sokka groaned, covering his face with his hands and dropping heavily on the rooftiles.

"Can't imagine what you would've done to me if I'd actually tried to kiss her only to find out it was you, though," he reasoned after a moment, chuckling slightly. Azula scoffed.

"I… had some warning, I suppose. Would have been surprised, but I might have actually tried to keep up the charade if you truly were stupid enough not to notice I wasn't Suki right away," Azula smirked. Sokka laughed.

"I can't imagine how messed up that would've been. I mean, I would've been able to tell it wasn't her, but…!"

"You sure? What if I was a better kisser than her?" Azula teased him. Sokka laughed again, cheeks flushing. "Then you would've known it wasn't her, but you would've thought it was worth it to pretend you hadn't figured me out yet just for that reason…"

"What twisted fantasy are you coming up with now, Azula?" Sokka squeaked. Azula as good as cackled with devious delight at his embarrassment, bringing the bottle to her lips again once she settled slightly. "Oh, this is unnerving. Disturbing. Wild. I can't believe how easy it could've been to tear apart your plans…"

"I can barely believe it either, but you and your friends were terribly determined to let me win. I appreciate it, truly," Azula smiled deviously. "Anyway, uh, after you were gone, we entered the city and the king welcomed us. He, of course, was fooled into trusting us, talking our ears off about how his advisor had betrayed him and what cruel ploys he had been a victim to. But then… ah. I wonder if you know about this, actually."

"About… what?" Sokka grimaced, warily. Azula smirked at him.

"You didn't tear apart my plan in Ba Sing Se… but I did tear apart yours in the Capital. During the eclipse, to be precise," she said, turning towards him with unparalleled mischief. "Do you know why I knew exactly what you were going to do? How I had defenses and strategies at hand to wait out the eclipse only to unleash the full force of our airships upon you and your allies as soon as the eclipse ended?"

"I… w-well, I don't really know, no," Sokka grimaced, pushing himself up slightly. "I kind of figured you guys had astronomers after all, someone else to tell you an eclipse was coming?"

"So… he didn't tell you. That explains why your plans remained that predictable," Azula laughed slightly. "Why… the truth is that, shortly after welcoming us into his palace, the Earth King told me, Mai and Ty Lee all about what you were planning."

Sokka's eyes widened, fully. Azula smirked, waiting for a reaction. She glanced over at Yue in the mirror briefly, who seemed as shocked by the revelation as Sokka was.

"Wait for it, wait for it…" Azula told her: Yue offered her an awkward smile before Sokka ran a hand over his hair, horror plain across his features.

"You're telling me…" he started, trembling slightly in his outrage. "You're telling me that bastard… you captured him. You held him with a fire blade to his neck. You threw him in a cell with me and Toph and the bear… and then we got out. And after we did, we saved Katara and Aang, and we spent weeks recovering, gathering allies, finding the ship we stole… and I spent a LOT of that time with the king, trying to help him find his way in life, trying to encourage him to do better as king, and then I saw him off when he climbed on Bosco's back and left to see his kingdom for himself."

"Uh-huh…?" Azula said, amused.

"And in all that time, across all those days of… nothing?! That good for nothing, piece of shit, pampered, spoiled, whiny pain in the ass NEVER thought to tell me that he had given away my plans to end the war to my very worst enemy?!"

Azula blinked blankly, her smile spreading wider still before nodding once.

Sokka screamed.

She never imagined she'd see Sokka throwing a tantrum, but he certainly did just that: the thought that he would curse a royal with that much drive brought her to wonder if he had ever cursed her quite as much, over all the terrible things she had ever done…

"He's an idiot! The biggest goddamn idiot in the planet, I…! What the hell is he doing running this city still?! Let's oust him right now! I'm done! I…!" Sokka raged, and Azula laughed relentlessly, hugging her stomach as she did.

"Well, I kicked him out of his throne once before, might as well do it again just for the fun of it," she snickered as Sokka returned to his seat, shaking his head before downing the contents of his bottle. "Curses, I'm sad. Here I thought the person you'd be most upset at while hearing my story would be me."

"You?! I…!" Sokka squealed, glaring at her fiercely. "I should be, you know? I should be! But the truth is…! You and I are rivals!"

"Again with that? You think so, even now?" Azula smirked. Sokka's eyebrow twitched.

"Fine. We were. But the problem is…! I got fucked over by my own stupidity the one time, sure, and then by Kuei's! I thought you were just that overwhelming, that invulnerable, that your plans had no loose ends whatsoever…!"

"That I could see the future? That I could understand even the deepest darkest pits of your soul…?" Azula said, with the spookiest voice she could use. Sokka huffed. "Is it that hurtful to learn that I wasn't all that extraordinary after all?"

"Mostly because it wasn't even my fault that I failed at the Invasion, once you look at it that way," Sokka pouted. "Stupid Kuei. We're going to sneak into the Palace and, uh…"

"Set it on fire?" Azula suggested. "I'm proficient at that."

"No, no, that's too flashy," Sokka said. Azula snorted.

"Flashy? Not that it's harmful, painful, cruel…?"

"I'm too drunk to care about those things right now. I'm just mad at him," Sokka said. "No, you know what? We'll take his clothes, dip them in meat, all of them! Then Bosco will think he's his meal, and he'll eat him!"

"My! That's shockingly evil of you, Sokka. I'll end up taking a liking to you, please stop…" Azula laughed, watching him with unrestrained fascination.

"If not that… we can go to the zoo!"

"The zoo?" Azula repeated, puzzled.

"We'll break the animals free from that zoo Aang built and lead them all the way to the Palace so they trample through it!" Sokka said.

"Easier said than done. I think the drink's starting to cloud your judgment," Azula smiled awkwardly.

"Well then, I'll… infiltrate his room and desecrate it somehow! I'll put a bunch of booby traps all over the place, you know? Put a bucket of, uh, oil or something at the door, then it falls on him, and then there's MORE oil on the floor that causes him to slip all the way to the furniture! When he tries to pull himself up with that, there'll be something gross and sticky all over it! Like, uh, honey! Or just whatever crap I can find in the kitchen for that matter. And then, once he approaches the bed, he's going to find a gigantic… a gigantic Bosco turd sitting on it! Square at the center!"

"That is delightfully disgusting," Azula said, beaming proudly at him.

"And after all that… a spooky voice will tell him his retribution is nigh for all the sins he never owned up to. All the alliances he ever made will go broken. His crimes will be paid for in blood!" Sokka roared, eyes blazing with determination.

"That's… actually kind of funny," Azula said, nodding. "Because, you see… I'm as good as convinced that the moron fully forgot that he told us anything. If you did all that? He'd likely never know what brought it about and spend the rest of his days losing his shit over how he has no idea what he did wrong and what these crimes might be…"

Azula snickered and clapped, looking at Sokka eagerly.

"All of which means, I'm completely supportive of your endeavors, my, uh, traveling companion," she said, holding back from calling him her friend. Sokka didn't seem to notice. "If you require my assistance for any of these grand plans of yours, feel free to let me know…"

"I'll have to work on them some more," Sokka pouted. "Good thing we'll have time anyway. Not like we're in a hurry to leave the city, are we?"

"Not likely, no. But we're not staying here forever either, are we?" Azula asked. "Besides, depending on how drunk you are, all your anger might go nowhere by morning if your conscience kicks in again."

"To be honest, I'm not that drunk. I'm just really, really angry," Sokka scoffed. "What would piss Kuei off the most? Like, really. What would be the greatest betrayal I could do that would hit him as hard as my revelation that he sabotaged the end of the war for at least a month and a half?"

"Beats me. Being here with me as your companion is probably a good start," Azula smiled, with a shrug. "Anyway, to make the rest of the story short, because hearing you rage against Kuei is rather amusing indeed… after infiltrating the Palace, I realized the Dai Li were the true power of this city, rather than the king. I had Mai and Ty Lee purposefully give away who I was, the Dai Li didn't realize it was intentional, they brought me to their leader and he offered me a deal: the Avatar would be mine, and he'd reclaim control of the city fully. I acted the fool, pretended I agreed to the deal, he left the Dai Li in my command so I'd use them to my purposes in his stead…"

"And the rest is history?" Sokka grimaced.

"Well, your sister gave away Zuko and Iroh, so there's that, as I mentioned," Azula smiled. "I simply moved my pieces on the board carefully afterwards. I daunted the Dai Li as best I could, taught them to respect me, showed them I could be a far more competent leader to follow than Long Feng ever had been. Before he knew it, they had chosen me over him… after you and your earthbending friend were defeated and captured, he realized he had lost a battle he had no say upon. Also… I will say, I commend you for how you fought Ty Lee that time."

"You mean, how I was dodging her?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's basically all I did…"

"You predicted her every move perfectly and evaded each jab without fail," Azula smirked. Sokka bit his lip, trying to stifle a smile. "We're talking about an expert chi-blocker here. She was supposed to be able to get to you far faster than you should have been able to move, and yet you weren't just faster, you legitimately read her moves perfectly."

"I'd faced her before. She chi-blocked everything but my leg and my head once," Sokka said, with a shrug. Azula laughed. "So, uh, I guess I kind of learned from it?"

"Not everyone would," she said. "It was, uh… well, an impressive display of your intellect, even if it pains me to say it. But great minds should acknowledge each other, shouldn't they?"

"Heh. Maybe so," Sokka smirked proudly.

"Anyway… after that was done, you and your friends were captured. Zuko and Iroh weren't difficult either, though Iroh ran away, but Zuko decided to stay and challenge me to an Agni Kai when I had about a hundred Dai Li to support me. He was a banished fool, too: what right did he have to challenge me at that point?"

"What right did he have when he did it later, though?" Sokka asked. Azula grimaced. "Why was it that different?"

"Because it was a battle for the throne itself," Azula said. "Besides, I… I think I wanted to prove something to myself, above anything else. I'd lost everything… I wanted to show I hadn't lost my edge over him, though. It was all I had left. The knowledge, the certainty that I was superior to him and… and even that was taken from me after that day. Though, as I already told you, he did not defeat me. As far as Agni Kai rules are concerned, I was triumphant in the duel itself…"

"Yeah, yeah, you weren't defeated by your loser of a brother," Sokka concluded for her. Azula smirked. "Just, by my winner of a sister?"

"Eh, well," Azula said, waving a hand at him. "Agni Kais are fought between firebenders. That didn't really count as one anymore."

"Zuko said the same thing to me once. I challenged him to a swordbending duel instead," Sokka smiled. Azula laughed, looking at him in disbelief.

"Please tell me you beat him," she said. Sokka laughed, shaking his head.

"Unfortunately not… but I might just be able to do it if I challenge him nowadays," Sokka reasoned, a hand on his chin. "We ought to go to the Fire Nation just so I can do that, Azula. We'll leave again right after, I promise…"

"Why, I think that hinges on Yue more than me," Azula said, raising the mirror…

Yue's expression was difficult to read right now. Azula blinked blankly, perplexed by it. Her stories might have truly fascinated her… she was so confusing, truly. She was a terrible liar, Azula thought… but if she was lying, then she was lying constantly about her appreciation of whatever Azula was saying or doing. Could someone actually do that? If Azula stupidly decided to believe her, would Yue truly turn around to reveal, later on, that she was just deceiving her all along and actually despised her?

It was difficult to believe that would be possible… but Azula hadn't come this far by trusting others without concern of the consequences. She breathed deeply, glaring at the mirror again as Yue grew more apprehensive.

"I shot the Avatar full of lightning," she told her, startling Yue. "He nearly died because of it. I certainly meant to kill him right then and there. I don't really know why I failed… but then again, not all lightning is deadly. Otherwise, my brother might have killed me years ago when we were trying to figure out my mother's whereabouts. At any rate, after a fierce fight in which we were the indisputable victors, my brother and I claimed Ba Sing Se's Palace under the Fire Lord's jurisdiction and control. The Fire Nation had trampled over the final city of the Earth Kingdom, its very capital… and we had as good as won the war, as far as we could tell, at that point."

"But you didn't," Sokka said, matter-of-factly.

"But we didn't," Azula said, eyeing him skeptically. Sokka smirked. "Annoying, pesky warriors with boomerangs decided that they'd have a say upon that matter, and now he's going to mock me relentlessly for losing against him and his friends when it mattered most, I'm sure…"

"I'm not," Sokka laughed, shaking his head. "Though… to be fair? I feel like you and I have some unresolved business going on. We never really settled our score."

"Score?" Azula asked, perplex. "What score is there for us to settle at all?"

"Well, let's see: Aang, Katara and I won in Omashu…"

"You did not: you three ran away, no one was victorious at all."

"Uh, true. Fair enough: one tie in Omashu because we ran away. But then, you ran away in that ghost town too!"

"Ah, I did. That's true."

"And then the Drill… we beat you there! My plan worked, and Aang broke the drill with…!"

"That was YOUR plan? You… your ideas broke that huge machine?" Azula asked, eyes wide. Sokka smirked knowingly, wiggling his eyebrows in her direction.

"How about that, huh?" he teased her. Azula snorted and laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Curse you. But then again, the Avatar being clever enough to pull that off himself? It wasn't very likely," she admitted, with a slight smile. "I was never wrong to think you were the true hazard there, of course I wasn't…"

"I was a bigger concern for you than the Avatar?" Sokka asked, amused.

"The Avatar, without direction, was just a burst of power that I could redirect away, should I have cared to," Azula said. "But isn't it funny that I won in Ba Sing Se, just when it was me and Zuzu against your sister and the Avatar? One smart person, two average fools, then a bigger fool…"

"If the bigger fool is your brother, you guys were balanced out," Sokka smirked. Azula laughed.

"You'd think, but I still won. If you'd been there, you might just have given me a run for my money," Azula said, bumping him slightly with her elbow. "Makes me realize… I made the right choice locking you up as I did. Even if you broke out eventually, it slowed you down. I might not have won otherwise."

"But you still did," Sokka said, with a heavy sigh. "So, my triumph against the Drill is matched by your victory in Ba Sing Se. But then… in the Invasion, you crushed me. And in Boiling Rock, we got away…"

"And I failed pathetically at killing any of you in the Western Air Temple," Azula sighed, rolling her eyes. "Guess the moral victory over you in the Invasion might count for two? Thus, we might just be even after all."

"Are we? Both in the Boiling Rock and in the Temple, me and my group just ran away. Twice," Sokka said. "We should have made you run away twice to really be even, you know?"

"Oh, really?" Azula smirked. Sokka chuckled and shrugged.

"It's complicated, I guess," he said. "But, say… as we're airing all our laundry out like this, what can you tell me about the Boiling Rock?"

"What about it?" Azula said, uncomfortable.

"I mean, you weren't there all along. You showed up eventually, but I was properly hidden as a guard for the most part," Sokka said. Azula raised an eyebrow. "How did you know what to look for? How did you figure out it was me and Zuko?"

"Why, I didn't know all along which ones of you had showed up," Azula said. "But I did tuck Suki away in the Boiling Rock in the assumption that one day you'd come find her. And I did reveal to you that she was alive, didn't I? So, I figured it would be a matter of time before someone infiltrated the prison and it would most likely be you. I admit, I didn't think you'd go with Zuzu, or that you wouldn't bring the rest of your team along…"

"Though… I wasn't really there for Suki," Sokka admitted. Azula laughed.

"I know that now, I sure didn't back then. Either way, when I heard Zuzu was caught infiltrating the place, I knew he couldn't have been smart enough to get that far alone, not to mention, he didn't have any real motives to infiltrate the prison to begin with. Iroh was free, he broke himself out, he wasn't even in the Boiling Rock to begin with, when he was a prisoner… so I figured he had to be doing this with someone else, or for someone else. He had outright told my father that he'd join your gang of misfits, so I figured… it might just be you. I was looking for you from the start. That's why… as soon as I entered the interrogation chamber, I knew the man being questioned wasn't part of your tricks. I was particularly looking for you, even if anyone else in your team would've been enough for my purposes too…"

"But you truly thought I'd be there," Sokka said. Azula shrugged.

"Your father had been moved to the Boiling Rock. The transfer had been signed off briefly before news of Zuko being there reached us in the Capital," Azula said. "I wanted him to strengthen the bait, truly…"

"You seriously were baiting me out that way," Sokka said, eyes wide. Azula shrugged. "The whole thing… was about me! You were that impressed by me, really?"

"That's… a word," Azula said, reluctantly. Sokka laughed and shrugged.

"One you used yourself a while ago. Besides, how else am I supposed to interpret that? Honestly, you're so intimidating and ruthless it's kind of wild to know I had your attention to that extent at all. I never really thought I did, but…" Sokka said, before shrugging. "Maybe we really are fated rivals, meant to battle it out forevermore. Or maybe you, uh… enjoyed being pinned to a wall a little more than you should have."

"You said what?" Azula said. Sokka snorted and laughed. "Excuse you…!"

"I'm joking, I'm joking…!"

"You'd better be. I'll shove you off this rooftop otherwise," Azula scoffed. Sokka snickered. "You and I are constantly fighting in weird ways, aren't we? In the war, nowadays… now you make fun of me and take it as a victory if I can't turn the battle against you. You're just… infuriating."

"Impressive might just be the word you were looking for…" Sokka said, grinning teasingly at her. Azula shook her head before turning towards him, finishing the last of her bottle before taking a new one.

"You want us to get even?" Azula asked, turning towards him and pointing the bottle at him. Sokka scoffed. "You know what I'm about to say already, don't you?"

"Sounds like the worst idea ever, Princess," Sokka said. Azula smiled broadly, and Sokka couldn't help but smile right back at her.

"Last one standing is the grand winner of our long-running war. Let's see just who runs away this time, shall we?" she asked, uncorking the bottle. Sokka snickered, doing the same with his own.

"I'm done running from you. Never again," Sokka said, proudly. Azula raised the bottle to her lips.

"Going to be your downfall in due time. Mark my words," she said. Sokka followed her example…

And with that, their drinking contest began.

"Okay… okay. That was… probably a stupid idea. Very stupid idea," Sokka admitted, as he hauled a barely conscious Azula into the room he had somehow managed to book in an inn… of the Lower Ring.

He had no idea what would happen after they drank more than intended. As it turned out, no inns in the Middle Ring would accept anyone who was as terribly drunk as either of them were. Their pleading resulted in nothing good, and Azula somehow seemed to be so out of it that she found the situation hilarious rather than distressing. She even hit on one innkeeper, suggesting she'd be open to negotiations of a much more complicated kind than those involving money… Sokka had to snatch her up and run away before the unpleasant man actually took the offer seriously.

The Lower Ring, then, was their only choice. Azula rode the train, half asleep, rambling strange things while mostly talking to Yue. Sokka certainly was grateful for the fact that she had beaten him to the final bottle: she had won as far as liquor consumption was concerned, and lost entirely when it came to retaining her senses while under the influence of alcohol. The Lower Ring inns weren't too demanding, and they most likely had housed plenty of drunk travelers before: Sokka never truly imagined he'd be one of them, but he pushed the door open to the room to find himself in, of course, a room with a single bed, even if large enough to house the two of them in it.

"She's going to kill me when she comes to," he said, swallowing dryly as he dragged Azula towards the mattress. "Hey. I'd help you clean up or dress in something decent… but that'd be extremely inappropriate. So, you're going into bed like this, and I'm going too because I feel… I feel like I'm going to be in bad shape in the morning as well."

"Hmm… get into bed, innkeeper, I… I said I'd do whatever you want me to…"

"I'm not the innkeeper, and seriously, Azula?" Sokka sighed, pulling her into bed. "Where's that coming from? You're no flirt…"

She giggled and shrugged as he set her to sit down on the edge of it.

"Sounded kinda funny to say it… never said anything like that before," she admitted, before breaking out in full laughter, dropping heavily on the bed. Sokka couldn't hold back a smile of his own at her confusing, wild mirth.

"You're such a weirdo," he said, smiling as she shifted in bed, pulling something out of her pocket that was making her uncomfortable… ah. The mirror.

"Hey, Yue?" Azula snickered. "I… I'll go day drinking, just for you. Because then maybe I'll see you in the reflection of the drink… and maybe you'll get drunk too. We'll be… drinking friends! Drinking… goons? Drinking… w-what's that called? Sokka? What's…?"

"Drinking buddies?" he asked, smiling and dropping on the bed next to her. "I'm not entirely sure Yue would get drunk just by being reflected off a liquor's surface…"

"How d'you know?" Azula huffed, glaring at him threateningly…

She tossed the mirror aside to do so, climbing over him and startling Sokka as she hovered atop him. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair chaotic, regardless of his earlier efforts to tame it. She held herself in place there, apparently judging him… and perhaps she truly had a right to do that, Sokka thought, for there were some rather unacceptable thoughts coursing through his mind right now, more so as her shirt seemed to loosen up slightly, baring more of her cleavage than he ever had seen before.

"W-what are you doing…?" he finally asked, trying his best to ignore the way his pants appeared to tighten over his unintended reaction to her closeness.

Azula hummed, still glaring at him fixedly.

"What does she see in you, huh…?" she said. Sokka blinked blankly. "Must be… the eyes. They're good eyes. Blue… like my fire. We match. Go evenly there too. Maybe she liked it because… her eyes are blue too, so you matched her too. Hmm. That's a good theory."

"For that matter, she'd have liked the entire Water Tribe," Sokka smiled. Azula winced.

"True… Yue's greedy like that, then," she said, with a cackle of laughter. "Or maybe it's… your nose."

"What? What did my nose do?" Sokka asked.

"Dunno. It's a good nose," Azula concluded. Sokka smiled.

"Maybe it's my ears. They're kind of big, apparently," Sokka said. "Might be because my sister pulled them too much as we were growing up…"

"Maybe big ears are Yue's thing. I think they're okay," Azula said, glancing at his ears carelessly. "Your cheekbones… weren't like that when you were young."

"Were you paying that much attention?" Sokka asked, amused.

"You're more manly now," she said. Sokka snorted.

"I'm an actual grown man by now, so I should hope so," he said. Azula hummed.

"Strong… cheekbones," she said, scrutinizing him some more. Sokka grimaced. "And… your neck's strong. You've got good muscles. Your arms are… nice. Very nice."

"Okay…?" Sokka said. Azula crooked her head to the side.

"And your hair's better than mine."

"It is?" Sokka asked, running a hand over it.

"Bet she thought it was better than hers, too…" Azula said, with a giggle. "Though hers is white. Or was it not white when you met her?"

"It was. The Moon Spirit's doing," Sokka said. Azula hummed.

"Must be kinda strange… having a spirit watching over you like that. I wonder if any would watch over me," she said, before snorting and laughing. "Well, if any were, they sure are doing a fucking dreadful job of it."

"You're not so badly off right now… are you?" Sokka asked: impulsively, his hand rose to her waist. Azula didn't pull away from his touch.

"I'm a… hunted prisoner. Uh, wait, that's not the word. Criminal? And I went to that shitty place, the, the… 'sylum," Azula said, shaking her head. "Never go back. Never want to go back. Shitty place. Lock up Zuko instead, see how he likes it…"

"Azula…"

"Don't… feel bad for me. Don't. I like you honest. I want you honest. You're the only one who doesn't lie," Azula said, grabbing his wrists and fully pinning him to the bed. "That's why you're my favorite."

"Y-your favorite? Favorite what?" Sokka asked, cheeks flushing even more than hers.

"Favorite… favorite something. I dunno. What… what was I saying?" Azula said, grimacing. Sokka chuckled slightly. "What? I made a joke?"

"Kind of. It was a pretty good one, too," he said. Azula snorted and chuckled.

"Got you good, then. Good on me," she rejoiced…

She let go of his wrists and collapsed atop him.

Sokka winced, glancing down at her, finding Azula simply shifting in place to find the suitable, comfortable position she wanted to rest in. She settled for leaving her head in the crook of his neck, and then she sighed deeply as she closed her eyes.

"I'll tell her… you're a good pillow," she promised. Sokka sighed.

"Maybe don't," he whispered: would Yue be upset to know Azula could be in his arms, if she cared to be, while she could not?

"So stingy…" Azula said, sighing. "Sokka… I want to kiss you."

"You… what?" Sokka's eyes widened. He glanced down at her to find her shrunken in place, reeling her body in to come as close to his as possible.

"Dunno. Your lips looked kinda nice just now but… can't do it," Azula said. Sokka frowned.

"Why?" Sokka asked: wait, why did he ask her that? Shouldn't he be relieved she wasn't going to do anything she'd regret…?

"I'm… not a traitor."

Sokka gritted his teeth: that sounded bad, truly bad. Was it her Fire Nation nationalism speaking? Was she disgusted over the concept of being with someone of the Water Tribe rather than…?

"She'd never forgive me."

His wariness dwindled at once. Azula's hand fell upon his chest, caressing it surprisingly chastely, as though simply appreciating that it was there, within her reach.

"I wouldn't forgive me, if I were her, I mean…" she continued. "Some idiot I latched onto… putting moves on my man? I'd kill whoever tried… I'd want to, rather. So, I can't… c-can't be like that to her. Can't. She wouldn't forgive me."

"Did she tell you that?" Sokka asked. Azula shook her head.

"She doesn't need to," she responded. "She lies and lies and… never tells me what she's really thinking. It's annoying. You don't lie. I like that you don't lie. You're weird that way… only one I know who doesn't lie."

"Azula… Yue is a good-natured person," Sokka whispered, caressing her hair delicately. "Maybe she's not lying when she says something nice to you. Have you thought about that?"

"N-no, because I… I don't think I… why would anyone…?" Azula said, before letting out a slight laugh… accompanied by a tear. "You're just here because of her. I… I'm glad you are, but… it's not me. It's not about me. She didn't choose me. No one ever does. S-so… she lies and tries to make me feel better just trying to… to make us coexist. But she can't really… c-can't really think of me as she pretends to. I don't… I don't deserve any of that."

Sokka grimaced: against his better judgment he hugged Azula tightly, rolling in bed with her. Her legs and arms remained locked around him, and she wept in his arms as she clung to his strong body.

"I don't… d-don't like the mirror," she said. Sokka winced. "I wish… I wish I weren't in it. If it was just Yue… I wouldn't care. B-but I'm there too. I don't want to see… I don't want to see what I've become. I hate… I hate…"

"Azula…"

"Don't lie… don't lie to me. Never lie to me," Azula whispered, holding onto him. "Don't lie to me…"

"Azula, I'd kiss you to shut you up right now if we weren't drunk."

She froze in place. Sokka rubbed her back affectionately.

"But we wouldn't be here now if we weren't, to begin with, so…" he said, with a deep sigh.

He eased her as best he could, pressing his brow to the top of her head. She clutched his clothes, unwilling to let go of him at all.

"Do you think I'm lying?" he asked. Azula shook her head.

"But I… don't know if I'd let you do that. If we weren't drunk," Azula admitted. Sokka smiled slightly.

"You wouldn't. Because you wouldn't betray your friend."

Azula's eyes widened. Friend. Again. Yue… a friend. She could never… she had never…

"I don't have… friends. I've never… I'll never… I'm not…" she started: not good enough. The words didn't leave her lips. Sokka shook his head.

"I'm right here. And I'm your friend. You have one, at least. And as much as you don't believe anything Yue says… she's your friend, too. I know she is. Maybe one day it'll sink in, but… I think the two of us see you that way, whether you're ready to deal with it or not."

"But… but you love her. She loves you. And I'm just… in the way."

"So, youou think you're just some obstacle between us? Azula: you're so much better than that."

Azula gritted her teeth, bursting into tears again as he held her reassuringly. His heart raced as he did, wishing he could comfort her more thoroughly… but knowing to restrain himself, anyway. She wasn't wrong to say any bold moves were best left for when they weren't drunk. If they truly would push boundaries and limits in their bond, which had tightened beyond belief that night, they'd better do it once they were in full use of their faculties. Not right now. Not like this.

Azula had heavy burdens weighing on her. Everything she seemed to speak of with pride was yet another dark obstacle in her path to peace, let alone happiness. That he had responded to her stories from earlier that night as he had seemed to open her up so much more than ever before… but she remained scared. She continued to fear the consequences of her mistakes. She couldn't hope to break free from those weights upon her shoulders… for the world was cruel and unforgiving. For she remained convinced that she had no place in it. For she couldn't dare care for someone, love them, because they always seemed to belong to someone else. Because they could never give her everything she'd wanted to give them…

Maybe all this reasoning would fade away once they woke up by the morning, with a hangover to match how severely drunk they were. But Sokka certainly hoped not to forget… and he also hoped that he'd find a way to get through to her. A way to show her that maybe she didn't need to be alone anymore… that maybe neither did he. And while a part of him certainly worried that Yue might be cross or upset about this outcome… he couldn't do anything to save Yue from losing her life to become the Moon Spirit anymore. But if he could still save Azula from darkness, he had to do everything in his power to prevail at that. Whether any romantic intent would be part of it or not, he didn't really know yet… that'd be up to her. But as for him, he…

He'd be down for that, actually.

His cheeks flushed darker as he gazed at her. As he propped her face up carefully, wiping her tears away with his thumb. Azula wasn't fully out of it yet, still slightly conscious… enough to hear his next words.

"I'm sorry you don't like the mirror. But I'm even more sorry to know you don't want to see yourself at all," he whispered. She shivered, shaking her head, pressing her face further into his hand, as good as desperate for a kind touch. "You know I'm not lying, right?"

"You better not be…" was her response. Sokka smiled warmly.

"Then I'll say it's a pity you can't see yourself the way I can… because you're beautiful, Azula. So beautiful I have to force myself not to look at you too much or I'll start getting dumb ideas in my head," he laughed. Azula frowned.

"Like… like what?" she asked. "What kinds of ideas…?"

"Ideas like taking you into my arms like this, and then kissing you senseless," he whispered. Azula smirked slightly. "We could go further than that. We could go anywhere you wanted to. Then, we'd get married one day and our siblings would be very upset and everyone would be confused about why someone as beautiful as you married a plain loser like me…"

"You're not plain… or a loser. I wouldn't like you if you were either thing…" Azula whispered. Sokka smirked.

"Then… you like me?" he asked. Azula's flushed cheeks suggested as much…

"I've never slept with a man before," she whispered. Sokka raised his eyebrows. "In… in any sense. I like that… that the first is going to be you. I'm glad it'll be you. I'm glad…"

It took every ounce of his willpower not to kiss her. He held her tightly, and she finally relaxed in his arms. His lips hovered by her ear.

"You're beautiful," he whispered again. Azula smiled.

"So are you," she responded. He couldn't help but chuckle at her response.

It had been a rather confusing first day in Ba Sing Se. He'd have to worry about what Yue might think or say of what happened once Azula woke up. She most likely could tell something was happening… he guessed she might not appreciate it. But ultimately, the chances for him and Yue to ever reclaim what they lost were nonexistent. Should she find someone – and it seemed unlikely, in the Spirit World –, he'd have no choice but to back off too. He could only hope she would have enough compassion for Azula in her heart to understand just how lonely the fallen Princess was… that she would have it in her to forgive him for comforting her in the intimate way he'd dared do it. But even if Yue wouldn't accept their bond, whatever it might become starting tonight… Sokka refused to let go of Azula.

Her headache by the next morning pounded painfully behind her eyes. Azula winced, hiding from the light by burying her face in…

In someone's strong, broad chest.

She didn't truly remember what had happened last night, but her immediate thought was that she hoped this was Sokka.

His scent filled her nostrils soon enough. That warmth belonged to him, too. It was him, alright… her initial panic receded at that thought, only to be replaced by utter confusion: why would that be a relief? She was in Sokka's arms, in bed. How the hell did she know what had happened last night? She didn't! He could have taken advantage of her, for all she knew… her heart leapt at that thought. Could they have done something stupid? Surely not, surely, they hadn't been quite so reckless…

But the thought of having found any intimacy with Sokka didn't sit wrong with her, and that alarmed her more than anything else.

"Let go," she said, firmly. Sokka stirred awake, wincing over his own hangover.

"W-what…?"

"Let go, I said."

"Azula… y-you're the one who's not letting go of me."

If he hadn't said it, she wouldn't have noticed that was the case.

She winced, reeling back her arms and legs as she shoved herself away from him. Sokka sighed, rolling on his back, rubbing his sore shoulder as she opened her eyes slightly: he was clothed. No parts of his body were in display… hers, though, were another matter. She tightened the sash around her top firmly, cheeks flushing as she realized how loose it had been. Curses… she hoped he hadn't bothered looking, but maybe it was more outrageous if he hadn't made the most of that opportunity, truth be told.

"We… should go downstairs. Innkeeper might have something for hangovers," Sokka said. Azula swallowed hard: she had half expected him to tell her they had to talk about what had happened, and she certainly didn't intend to do that. Good thing he was feeling sickly, too.

Against her better judgment, Azula reached for the mirror, which she had set aside at some point through the night… no voices came from it, and she simply stuffed it in her pocket again. She wouldn't look in it. Not only would she look terrible… she wasn't ready to face Yue right now. After what had happened between her and Sokka, whatever it was… she simply wasn't ready.

The innkeeper mixed a revolting hangover cure for them, so thick and lumpy that there was no way Yue would be reflected off its surface. Disgusting as its taste and texture might be, Azula was grateful for that last thing.

"So…" The innkeeper said, eyeing them intently. Azula grimaced, as good as daring the man not to step past boundaries or he would pay for it… "I can switch you two to a room with two beds tonight, if you want."

The man's offer startled the both of them. He was cleaning some glasses of the inn's tavern, and the two of them sat by the bar, staring at him in confusion.

"Something wrong?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"N-no, well… I don't know," Sokka said, with an awkward smile.

"I've had a few cases like these, you know?" the innkeeper said. "I would've given you that room earlier, but it was occupied until today. You can switch there and hopefully not get as badly drunk tonight as you were yesterday."

"That's… very thoughtful of you," Azula said, gritting her teeth.

The bad thing about the hangover cure, without a doubt, was its ability to bring back everything she didn't particularly want to remember: she glanced at Sokka warily once the innkeeper walked away, and she grabbed his sleeve, tugging at it violently.

"Ow. What is it?" he asked.

"I… threw myself at an innkeeper? It wasn't this one, was it?"

"You didn't exactly throw yourself… tried to, maybe, but I stopped you," Sokka said, with a weak smile. Azula yelped, eyes wide in horror. "You convinced yourself that he wouldn't let us stay in his inn because he was jealous that you were with me rather than available to him, or something…"

"Can we go back to his inn so I can kill him, and then we can pretend none of this ever happened?" Azula asked.

"Nope."

"Fuck you."

She dropped her head on the bar, and Sokka smiled slightly before raising a hand to pat her head gently. Azula grimaced, shaking her head.

"Stop being nice. Stop… being compassionate. As far as I can remember… I was ready to throw myself at you too. And I told you not to pity me…"

"I don't think I pitied you at all last night," Sokka said, with a heavy sigh. "You have no idea how difficult it was to…"

"To what? To hold back from doing as I asked when I was drunk?" Azula scoffed.

"I was, too," Sokka said. Azula grimaced.

"But you still had your senses. Somewhat," she said. Sokka nodded.

"Enough to know that… that when you said you didn't want us to do anything stupid while we were drunk, and that you'd rather we did it while sober, I knew I had to listen," Sokka said. Azula grimaced, shaking her head.

"Drunk or sober, it doesn't matter: you and I aren't… we're barely friends. Are we even that?" Azula scoffed, shaking her head: the abrupt motions didn't help her headache, of course. "Point is, just… forget what happened. Do it. None of it is… important. We weren't in our right minds."

"We weren't. And you're free to forget about it if you want, but… I don't think I want to," Sokka said. Azula huffed.

"Right. Guess you'll forever rejoice in the day the idiot Fire Nation Princess wanted you to rail her," she said. Sokka's cheeks flushed.

"Well, you didn't exactly say that, but… now you did and now you're putting some fun images in my head," he admitted, with a dry grin.

"I'm not…! Ugh," Azula huffed, shaking her head and pushing herself out of the stool she had been sitting at. "I'm… not feeling so good."

"Azula…"

She didn't waste time explaining further, she clapped a hand over her mouth and ran off, outside the inn… aiming to release the contents of her stomach in an alley behind the building.

Azula breathed heavily after it was over, making her way back inside, but not to the tavern area. Instead, she made for the bathroom, where she rinsed her mouth properly, as many times as necessary to get rid of the unpleasant taste.

Guilt gripped her terribly. Guilt she hated feeling, for she had never meant to be on this side of the equation… but she was now. What she'd done, what she'd been ready to do… what kind of fool was she? How had she dared…?

She gritted her teeth, pulling out her mirror and sitting by the edge of the empty tub. As expected, Yue's face appeared behind her own, and she smiled a little, waving shyly.

"You… uh. There you are," Azula said. "You've been quiet the whole time. I had the mirror in my pocket…"

"Ah, sorry. I mustn't have noticed."

"Well… how much did you not notice?" Azula asked, uncertain. "I mean, did you pick up on any of what happened last night?"

"A few things, maybe. Oh, you wanted to make me drunk, too! Just like you and Sokka. You thought that my reflection in an alcoholic drink might get me drunk…"

"I… huh. I doubt that'd work," Azula said. Yue chuckled and nodded.

"Me too, but you were very enthusiastic about it. I kind of want to try it just to see if it really would do something to me. I never did get drunk, so…"

The girl in the mirror had died young, after all. She had gone on to fulfill a greater cosmic duty than any of the mundanity Azula remained locked in. A foolish part of her compelled her to wish their places were swapped… to wish it were Yue in her place, spending strange nights of drunken carelessness with the man she loved.

But that wasn't the case, and it would never be. She should be flaunting things instead, shouldn't she? Boasting of how far she'd gone with Sokka – though apparently it wasn't far at all – just to get a rise out of Yue. Maybe then she'd be outraged by how twisted she was and then she'd leave. Maybe then she'd understand just what kind of monster Azula was…

But when she opened her mouth to say those things, she said nothing.

"Are you okay?"

The inane question shouldn't have hurt. She shouldn't have held back from sharing what was going on, and yet she did. After so long of being upset at Yue for her dishonesty, it started to feel like she was the one who was being dishonest instead.

"Did you… see any of what happened last night?" Azula asked. Yue frowned slightly. "I mean… after things got out of hand. And I had too much to drink. Did you…?"

"What are you talking about, exactly?"

"I…" Azula started, but she stopped: Yue didn't know? She wouldn't ask that question if she did. She wouldn't possibly be so calm if she'd noticed she had even slept – if strictly in the sense of resting – with Sokka. Not even Yue could be that kind-hearted. Not even she would overlook something so outrageous. So… when she asked that question and looked at her that way, she couldn't be lying. She wasn't, was she? She… she couldn't be. Not this time.

"Azula?"

"Never mind," Azula said, with a tense grin. "It doesn't matter. It's… it's fine. I'm fine. I just… fuck, I just need to get away from here. Away from…"

From Sokka. She needed to reclaim herself. To get away from the fool who could coax her vulnerability out of her so easily, who could make her feel a little less alone without even trying. She couldn't take it anymore. She had asked him to be honest… and yet she couldn't handle that honesty right now. Most of all when she was as acutely aware of Yue as she was right now.

"Come on. Come." Azula said, stuffing the mirror in her pocket as a wild smile spread over her face. "We've got places to be."

"But… wait, are we going without Sokka?"

"We don't need him right now. He wouldn't enjoy my latest idea of fun, anyway," Azula decided, pushing herself upright and marching off, through the streets of the Lower Ring.

Inside the inn, Sokka sighed just as the innkeeper returned. He smiled awkwardly as the man pointed at Azula's empty seat.

"Guess the cure worked?" he asked.

"Apparently," Sokka said.

"Must be a complicated situation you two are in, huh?" the man asked. "I've seen my fair share of those. Lots of Upper Ring people who don't want to get caught with their unlawful lovers love to come to the Lower Ring for sneaking around…"

"None of that with her and me," Sokka smiled, shaking his head. "We're both, uh, single."

"Really? Guess there's weirder baggage than I can understand, then," the innkeeper said, leaning with one arm on the bar. Sokka sighed.

"More than I can explain, yeah," he said. "She's… probably not ready to be with someone, for starters. But unfortunately for her… she's fascinating to me. And I honestly didn't realize how much until last night, but…"

"Sounds like you're in trouble, huh?" the innkeeper smirked. Sokka shrugged.

"It's not like I've never experienced romance before," he said. "I've had past relationships. But… it's weird how she's the last person I should ever be drawn to, and yet the better I come to know her, the more she feels like a kindred spirit for me. And that's a very strange feeling, okay? I… I've never really felt like that over anyone else. And feeling it over her? When I think about it, strictly objectively, it sounds like I must've lost my mind! But then I actually come back to reality, and I take one look at her, and I just want to…"

"To not switch rooms at all?" the innkeeper laughed. Sokka blushed and shrugged. "Up to you if you do or don't, in the end. But is she as interested in you as you are in her, or…?"

"I think she could be. She just won't let herself be," Sokka said, running a hand over his hair. "We've always been at war, her and I, sort of. So…"

"They do say that love is a battlefield," the innkeeper added. Sokka crooked an eyebrow.

"Ours seems to be multiple battlefields, rather," Sokka said. The innkeeper laughed. "And I want to win, sure, but… I don't want her to lose. How does that make sense, huh?"

"Why… battles don't always work that way, you know?" the innkeeper said, raising an eyebrow. "Most times… wars are solved not by full conquest but by capitulating, right? Surrenders and such… but of course, you wouldn't want to surrender."

"She'd lose all her respect for me if I did," Sokka smiled a little.

"Then… how about you reach an agreement? Make a deal!" he said, smiling. "Sign a treaty, establish the rules of an alliance…"

"That sounds okay…" Sokka reasoned, though he frowned slightly. "Though it also sounds like a strange way to interpret marriage. Signing of a treaty…"

"Might be that's what it is!" the innkeeper exclaimed, and Sokka laughed.

"Well, I'm not sure we're at marriage stage yet. Rather, I'm sure we're not," he said, shaking his head. "But along with that, I guess… you could say there's someone else."

"Ooooh. Yeah, uh, that's never good, no matter what you mean."

"I can't even say it's not good this time," Sokka sighed. "That person is… the reason why we even wound up in each other's lives to this extent. She and I knew each other before but, uh, let's say we weren't exactly on friendly terms until this third person brought us together recently. And now… I'm hooked, you could say. I don't want to walk away. But I can't do anything unless… unless we sort out what to do about that third person anyway."

"I have no idea how that makes sense," said the innkeeper, raising an eyebrow. "Third person is… a friend of yours? Someone you care about?"

"Yeah, that's probably a good way to put it," Sokka said, swallowing hard.

"If they're a good friend, they'll want your happiness. And if this fiery lady is your happiness, that friend of yours would step aside…"

"I mean, maybe, but the baggage isn't just for me. It's the two of us… because she cares about that person too. Even if she pretends she doesn't," Sokka said. "She doesn't fool me."

"Then… why not talk things over? All three of you?" the innkeeper said. "You're all adults. Might as well, right?"

"Heh… huh. I mean, it's simple, but it's definitely the only thing left to do," Sokka reasoned, tapping his chin.

"Come clean! Tell her how you feel, and you'll be free to use that room as often as you care to. Well, you know, as long as you pay me for it," the innkeeper grinned greedily. Sokka laughed, nodding.

"Well, thank you for your generosity. Even if it's slightly conditioned by the size of my pocket," Sokka said. The innkeeper snickered at his assessment.

The man was right: they just had to talk sincerely and put all their cards on the table. He wasn't even sure he and Azula were a good idea just yet, she might not actually want to be a couple, maybe she'd prefer a no-strings-attached deal… but whatever the case might be, they were sober and ready now. He meant to run to her, tell her how he felt, and finally kiss her the way he would have last night, if both their minds had been clear, and they had dared act on their feelings.

Nervous and uncertain about what might come next, Sokka went outside in the hopes of finding Azula… and while he found telltale signs that gave away that she had been there, the Princess was gone. He frowned, returning to the inn and checking their room: nothing there, either. Where the hell was she?

"This… heh. Well, this is something else," Azula said, glaring at the tree with disdain. It stood at the tallest hill within the Lower Ring: she shook her head at it before turning fully, raising the mirror over her head. "Lo and behold, Yue: the massive, ridiculous city of Ba Sing Se."

The Moon Spirit gasped in delight: this time, in broad daylight, the city's layout was much clearer for her. The delight of witnessing something so massive, so beautiful, overwhelmed her… but Azula didn't help her process the sight. Instead of worrying about Yue, the Princess's glare drifted into the distance, towards the Middle Ring, the Upper one… then, the Palace itself.

"See that? That's the Palace. The terrains of my greatest victory ever," Azula said, proudly.

"It's so far away…"

"Want to see it further up close?" Azula asked.

"What?! No! That… that would be very dangerous for you. If you got caught by the Earth King, you'd be in trouble!"

"He's no threat to me, try as though he might to be one," Azula smirked smugly. "How fulfilling it might be to repeat my great success… but I can't, of course. I lack the resources, and he's stronger solely due to the people around him. Incompetent buffoon can't even run his own life, let alone a city, so…"

"So? You won't pay him a visit, will you?"

"I'd rather not. There are other places I might have more fun at, this time," Azula smirked. "A flashy victory against the Earth King would draw Zuko and the Avatar right to my doorstep. But there are other revenges I can take in Ba Sing Se, still…"

"Revenge? Against whom?"

"Against… huh. Against someone we both should have a grudge on, I think. Wasn't he the one who suggested that you should turn into a fish?"

"W-wait… the uncle you told me you hated?"

"Indeed, the one you told me said you'd been touched by the Moon Spirit. He's shamelessly living in the Upper Ring, in some teashop that we can very well tear to pieces if we're careful…" Azula smirked, lowering the mirror.

"Uh, I don't know if I want to…"

"I know you don't want to. I'll do it alone, if need be," Azula said, smirking. "Not like you can do much but watch or hear while you're in that mirror anyway. But I don't need your support anyhow."

"Azula, don't do anything too dangerous or rash. You don't want to get caught…"

"I won't be. I'm the brightest military mind this world ever saw!" Azula exclaimed, spreading her arms out obnoxiously. "And I will take my revenge on that old bastard… no matter what it takes!"

The meaning of those words would not become apparent to Yue for many more hours still. The Princess took off then, on her way to the train station: she nabbed someone's pass to the Upper Ring through expert sleight of hand, and she rode the train entirely inconspicuously afterwards…

Sokka searched across the nearby Lower Ring for any clues of Azula's whereabouts. He snarled, never having suspected she'd give him the slip to that extent. Curses, she was wonderful when she wanted to be… and entirely frustrating when she didn't. You never truly knew what you were going to get with her… and he certainly had been all too lucky ever since they joined forces. Princess Azula no doubt could be a menace in many ways… but his heart pounded with fear at the thought of her being captured, more than anything. Whatever she was up to, she had to be careful.

A few clues by people who sighted a woman by her description led Sokka to the train station. He saw no sign of her there – if she truly had boarded a train, she would be long gone by now, and hell knew where she had gone. Was she that ashamed of what had happened last night? He had to catch up to her, but which way had she gone? Further into the city, or out to the Agrarian Zone, to leave the city…?

"… I have it right here! I know I do! It was here!"

Sokka frowned upon hearing the loud screams of a desperate nobleman. He glanced about himself in anxiety, no doubt fearful of spending too long in the Lower Ring, which he had visited for who knew what reasons…

"Without a pass to the Middle Ring, you can't climb aboard this train, sir," said a city guard, and the man squealed with utter anguish.

"I said I have it! It's in here… somewhere!" he exclaimed. "I had a quick job here! I had it earlier today, I just needed to drop by briefly and then leave and…! Please, you saw me in the morning, let me go back! Please!"

Sokka snarled, fists tightening: how mysterious that a nobleman would lose his pass to the upper rings of Ba Sing Se just when Azula vanished…

He snarled before making up his mind about what to do: he rushed back to the inn, and when he left, he was clad in the uniform of the Dai Li, ready to use the intimidating presence of the earthbending elite to clear a path for himself across all of Ba Sing Se, if need be, to find Azula.

After two hours aboard a train that stopped at far too many stations, Azula finally marched up to her destination. She smirked, having never approached the building before, even if she had ensured to learn of its location after a certain waterbender had rushed into the Palace, begging for Suki's help…

"The Jasmine Dragon. Old-fashioned, simple… and even so, far too good for the likes of my uncle," Azula said, holding up the mirror so Yue could see the building, too. "He's a tea brewer, did you know? He's also the man who sieged this city around thirteen years ago and now he's allowed to live cozily among their people, as though he'd never done anything that caused them harm. And it's all because he was a turncoat and defended the place from the Fire Nation when the war was ending. It was a meaningful gesture, too: once me and my father were out of the fray, every settlement in the Earth Kingdom would have lost its Fire Nation leadership… unless, of course, Zuzu decided he actually preferred spreading our control all over the world. But it was obvious that he wouldn't do that, just as it was obvious that Ba Sing Se would go free when the Fire Nation's leadership changed… and over that empty gesture, that old fool who unfortunately is related to me became the town's great Fire Nation hero. They have no dignity, wouldn't you say? Can you imagine your people worshipping a Fire Nation traitor to this extent?"

"Well, no… but I wouldn't really imagine many Fire Nation traitors showing up in the Northern Water Tribe. Still, it's hard to fathom something like that…"

"Kuei let him retake his teashop, instead of wisely forcing him to make one in the Fire Nation instead. You know, the place where Iroh would be welcome, since it's his dear nephew's nation and the realm he has true power over," Azula smirked. "At most, that nonsensical Republic City might have hosted the old bastard just as well. But instead… he came back to the scene of the crime. How many must glare at him quietly, wishing misery and pain onto him, as retaliation for everything he inflicted upon them? How many resent him for the men he killed in combat? I can only imagine it's a fair few… much like they must resent me. But he gets a free pass… while I, if captured, would get executed instead. Doesn't sound fair, does it?"

"Maybe you need to save the city from an invading power for them to allow you in it again? Is that what you'd like to do? Maybe… take down the Dai Li?"

"The Dai Li? Oh, no. Frankly, it's not that I want Ba Sing Se to care one bit for me," Azula smirked. "I'd just want them to hate my uncle too, instead."

"Really? But… that seems, well, more than a little vindictive. What do you intend to do to achieve that anyway? If you wanted to, well, set the teashop on fire…"

"Would you say much against it, if I did?" Azula asked, testing her.

"Well, I would have no power to stop you… but I would be displeased. Disappointed."

"That sounds utterly terrifying, Yue. I tremble in the wake of letting you down."

"Maybe you should! This isn't something you should do lightly, Azula. I know you hate being told what to do, but…!"

"I do indeed. And you have no idea what I have in mind," Azula smirked. "If I burned his shop, Iroh would simply be a sad victim. Everyone would feel sorry for him, and only a few would dare say outright that it serves him right. What kind of vengeance would that be? No, Yue… my plans are much more sinister than that."

"Uh… I don't know if I like the sound of that. Azula…?"

Getting across the city took far longer than Sokka wished it had, but he finally made his way to the Upper Ring. He kept a wide berth from the Palace, knowing he might just be in trouble if they recognized him, since he was supposed to be missing right now… and he focused, instead, on looking for Azula. She could've gone to the Palace, reckless as she was… but the resulting pandemonium, if she had done that, would've been apparent already. She had to be someplace else. She had to be somewhere…

He frowned as he paced as inconspicuously across the Upper Ring as possible, approaching the area where Iroh's teashop was at. Come to think of it, maybe a customer might have sighted Azula if she passed by the…

Oh.

Oh, no.

The server didn't know what hit him. He lay slumped inside the cellar, tied up and gagged. He wouldn't be there forever, it was but a precaution as Azula dressed in a spare uniform of the Jasmine Dragon, with an apron and even a bandana around her hair.

Iroh had left the tea brewing with his server around five minutes ago. He had some delivery to make, probably to some other old lady who had taken a fancy to him. Why they liked him, Azula would never know… but she felt that way over anyone who liked Iroh in any sense, truth be told. Her brother, of course, liked him for obvious reasons, Iroh used to be the only person to validate and coddle him… oh, but she hadn't come here to stem in her resentment towards the old man who had never moved a finger for her sake.

She resented him for that, to a fault. It wasn't so much that she thought he could have changed her fate, if he had cared to try… but the fact that he had given up on her, from the very beginning. It wasn't a crime, giving up on someone as he had on her… she certainly didn't need him. But that it had never occurred to him that she might have, that he had never extended a helping hand, that he hadn't even checked on her in the asylum… the bastard could have done that, at least. But not once.

So now, retribution was nigh. And her plan would be perfect.

She poured the red powder at the bottom of each mug, first. Then, she poured each cup, with no regard as to whether they matched the orders as they had been written on the board right by the stove. She smirked without restraint every time Yue's head popped up in any of the cups of tea, tense over what Azula was doing.

"This could be… uh, more destructive than it sounds," Yue warned her. "You'll have to run as soon as you're done, Azula. Are you sure you can…?"

"You forget who you're talking to," Azula smirked, as she poured the final cup. "This will work. I know it will."

Around fifteen different people were awaiting their orders right now. Another twenty already had their tea and were placidly drinking right now. They didn't matter, of course… well, they did solely as further factors of chaos, maybe. But for the time being, her priority was the obvious one: she began gathering the cups on trays, and without any concern, she placed each of the mismatched, inaccurate orders at the tables, one by one.

They thanked her for her service, unconcerned with confirming whether she was a typical server or part of the staff or not. She offered sardonic smiles to a few, and one even seemed to ogle her slightly – unfortunately for him, he couldn't have been less her type. She simply finished distributing the tea and then returned to the stove, pouring what was left of her red powder inside the kettle for good measure.

With that, she untied and ungagged the unconscious server, carelessly setting him on a chair, splayed on the table as though he had simply been napping, carelessly missing out on a vital part of his shift while his boss was out. A devious grin spread across her face as she removed the spare uniform and returned to the backdoor, the way she had entered the building in the first place… but she didn't fully close the door yet. Instead, she crouched by the door, waiting, waiting…

Footsteps stopped right next to her.

Her heart nearly leapt out of her throat when she feared it might be Iroh.

She jumped upwards as though there were a spring right underneath her rear, and she froze on the spot upon facing a man in a Dai Li outfit.

A man with very annoyed blue eyes.

"Well, well. Look who I've found, wondering carelessly in the Upper Ring with a random nobleman's entry pass…" Sokka said, with unrelenting bitterness. Azula smiled awkwardly.

"Hah. Hi. You, uh… you got here right on time, actually! Good work!"

"On time for what? To stop you from going in there and… doing I don't even know what in Iroh's teashop?" Sokka said, grimacing. "Azula, don't you dare. You know you're being hunted! If you try to confront Iroh or anything, everyone's going to raise the alarm…!"

"I'm sure they will if you're so noisy and jumpy about everything, curses," Azula said. "Yue and I were actually enjoying ourselves…"

"That, uh, is a stretch. I'm very worried about you getting caught too."

"See? She says she was having a blast!" Azula said, smirking as she pointed the mirror at the teashop's door again: Yue huffed in frustration at Azula's, and this time, Azula didn't doubt the girl was indeed annoyed with her. "Come on, come on, any second now it's going to…!"

"What did you do?" Sokka asked, frowning as he glanced inside the building: sounds gave away that people were just drinking tea peacefully…

Or not so peacefully, when someone appeared to choke, dropping the teacup on the floor.

It shattered loudly enough that the server jolted awake at that, grimacing and rubbing the back of his head, where Azula had hit him to knock him out. He scrambled out of the kitchen area, to find out what had happened…

"What is this?!" shrieked someone.

"The hell did you put in this tea?!" shouted another one.

"S-sir? I didn't… it's just the tea we always served! W-wait, when did I deliver these?"

"BRING WATER! THIS IS KILLING ME!"

"Master Iroh may be a master brewer, but he seems to be a master jokester, too! Spicy tea? What is this madness?!"

Sokka's jaw dropped as Azula, right before him, covered her mouth while laughing with devious glee. Sokka only heard a few more screams of desperation, as the server rushed to find water, milk, anything to aid the desperate customers whose tongues and mouths were on fire… before turning towards his wicked companion.

"What the hell was that about?" he asked, with a dry grin.

"Don't look at me like that, it's not that bad! I didn't really hurt anyone…!" Azula said, before snorting and cackling as she walked away from the shop. "But I did it! It worked! Ahahaha, oh, it's magnificent!"

"Azula, you just filled those teacups with spice?!" Sokka growled. "Explain it, now! Did you do anything else? Like, I don't know, a laxative?!"

She froze on the spot upon hearing that accusation. She turned towards him, eyes wide with curiosity, and Sokka winced.

"That was NOT an idea!"

"It's a great one, though!"

"Azula!" he exclaimed, and she grinned guiltily. "What the hell is this? What are you doing?"

"This… is just revenge. Served hot rather than cold, for tea is indeed hot, as is spice…" Azula smirked, with a careless shrug. "I know everyone expects me to do something far more aggressive than this, but as I told Yue, burning down this place was only going to turn Iroh into a victim of someone else's cruelty, and he would have been pitied and worshipped all the more. I would've caused trouble, certainly, but not the kind I cared to. So… instead, I was determined to sabotage his business. What's worse than a cup of tea with an unexpected, unwelcome taste? Though, to be frank, tea might actually improve if you pour togarashi chili powder in it…"

"You poured… chili powder in their tea?" Sokka asked, his voice shrill. Azula nodded promptly. "Y-you…?!"

"Come now, it's brilliant!" Azula smirked, proudly. "I didn't do anything genuinely harmful… well, besides knocking out the server for about five minutes, but look at him, he doesn't even know he was out like a light or that I tied him up while he was…"

"Azula?!" Sokka exclaimed. "You did WHAT?!"

"Sokka, these are healthier ways for me to reclaim my power over situations, that's what the people in the asylum told me I needed to…!"

"… Azula? Wait, you said… Sokka?"

The arguing pair standing before the building's backdoor froze: the old man's voice was immediately recognizable, and they turned their gazes towards him slowly.

Iroh had a couple of jars of new tea blends in his arms. His jaw dropped as he gaped at them in disbelief – Azula hadn't seen him in a long time, but his gray hair certainly was whiter than before. More wrinkles, too. Well, she'd certainly make him age a couple more years with her stunt inside the teashop just now…

"It's… it's both of you? Sokka, dressed as Dai Li?!" Iroh exclaimed, horrorstruck. "Azula…!"

"Run!"

Azula grabbed Sokka's shoulder before he could explain anything, forcing him to race at full speed down the alley behind Iroh's teashop. The old man yelped, about to follow them until he heard the cacophony of coughing, roars of outrage, exclamations of frustration inside his teashop, where more and more customers were shattering their mugs in retaliation for the burning feeling in their mouths. His server shrank in place behind the main counter, glancing at Iroh as though begging him for help.

"Please…!" Iroh exclaimed, trying to calm his frequent customers. "Whatever has happened, it wasn't our responsibility! A foul player has…!"

A cup flew across the room, striking Iroh straight in the forehead.

The teashop, usually a peaceful, placid location that everyone in the Upper Ring loved to frequent, had devolved into a complete pandemonium when another customer pulled the front door open. She frowned upon hearing the noise, upon sensing Iroh rushing to wash out all the tea mugs, with not a single kettle of hot water ready to be poured over tea leaves – he would be washing those soon, too.

"I can't believe…" she overheard the old man, even from a distance. "Azula, of all people! And of all things she could've done…!"

Azula? Azula was here?

Toph clicked her tongue, shutting the door again before tightening her fists: well, then… it seemed teatime would have to wait for later.

The two traveling companions ran through the Upper Ring desperately: as much as they had tried to get out too fast to be caught, Iroh apparently had managed to spread the word to city guards before beginning his likely failed attempts at damage control in the Jasmine Dragon. They were being pursued across the beautiful, pristine streets of the Upper Ring… and Azula appeared to find it a rather hilarious situation regardless.

"Could you quit laughing?! We're in real danger here!" Sokka squeaked.

"It's… n-not like I can help it!" Azula burst out wiping the tears of laughter.

"If we get caught, we're fucked!" Sokka roared. "No more traveling, no more fulfilling anyone's dreams, no more Yue adventures! Azula…!"

"We're not going to get caught, you worrywart!" Azula laughed. "We can do this! We can get out of the Upper Ring, you just have to follow my lead and we'll shake them off in…!"

She tripped when a chunk of earth rose right in front of her.

Azula toppled forward, and Sokka caught her before she could fall face-first into a wall that rose at alarming speed before them.

The way was cut by an earthbender.

Azula gathered her strength to attack the wall… only for a second one to rise right behind them.

Before either Sokka or Azula knew it, they had been crushed against each other by two walls that seemed hellbent on rendering them breathless. Azula gasped as Sokka's arm was firmly squeezed against her back, and he yelped in pain with her shoulder embedded into his gut.

"I… can't move!" Sokka exclaimed: he'd have been perfectly happy to hold Azula close and intimately like this… in any other circumstances. And when he was in a better mood too, likely. Right now, he wasn't sure he could so much as think about Azula as a potential romantic partner when her utter chaos and recklessness had landed them in… this very uncomfortable spot.

Azula roared with frustration: she could barely move her head at all: the earth kept wrapping tighter around them, and at the end, only a small hole was left for air to filter in… then, whoever had caught them dragged them away from where they had been caught. They toppled down, feeling every ridge of the ground against the unpleasant earthen cast they were stuck in, and it kept happening for what felt like hours…

Until they finally were liberated, a long time later, in a most morbid location: the very prison cells where Azula had visited Long Feng long ago, where she had tossed Sokka once before…

… Along with Toph.

Who happened to be the person who had flung them in there, in the first place.

"Toph!" Sokka exclaimed, chest heaving as he was finally free. Azula pulled away from him, rubbing the spots of her body that still hurt after being dragged halfway across the Upper Ring by the rough earthbender.

"Hope you had some fun today. That's as far as it goes, though. For you…" Toph said, at Azula, before turning her attention to Sokka. "And you. I think. You weren't behind that mess at the teashop , were you, Sokka?"

"No, I wasn't, but Toph, I can explain…"

"You can explain why a wanted criminal and terrorist was… lacing tea with spices?" Toph said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, no, I can't actually explain that one because that was all her!" Sokka huffed, glaring at Azula, who pouted at him.

"I was enjoying the fun. Leave it to Iroh to sabotage even that…" she sighed, dramatically.

"You fucked up a whole day's worth of income for your uncle…" Toph pointed out. Azula laughed.

"One day? No, fool: I've sabotaged far more than that! Word shall spread across the Upper Ring and beyond! His credibility as a tea brewer will be in shambles! Accusations that a foul player, me, did something quite so stupid will never sit well with anyone! That's because the daunting, terrifying conqueror of Ba Sing Se wouldn't simply enter this city anew just to ruin his reputation as a tea brewer, would she?"

"But… that's exactly what you did," Toph said, matter-of-factly.

"And who would believe that?" Azula smiled, with a devious laugh. "It's the ultimate revenge. So stupid, so meaningless, so childish… and yet the consequences shall haunt him forevermore."

"You haven't changed in the least, have you?" Toph sighed, shaking her head and then turning towards Sokka. "And you? The hell is your excuse, running around with the spicy avenger here?"

"I… have an explanation, Toph, but believe me, Azula is just being chaotic for the sake of it," Sokka said. Azula huffed.

"I have greater purposes than you'd ever want to accept, mind you…"

"Could you be quiet?" Sokka huffed. Azula gasped in outrage. "I'm trying to save you from prison here, in case you haven't noticed! This is serious! Where do you think we are? Ba Sing Se's Palace! And when Kuei knows we're here…"

"He already does. I can't just drop people in his palace's prison willy-nilly, you know?" Toph said, with a careless shrug.

The gravity of the situation only seemed to sink in then. Azula's smile started fading, and Toph folded her arms over her chest.

"He's stoked he finally got his hands on you. Though I'm the one who did it, anyway, but still…" she said, jerking her head at Sokka. "If you're not her prisoner or her devoted ally, get the hell out of there and explain what's going on, damn it. I'm supposed to be recruiting metalbenders, not sorting out whatever nonsense you two get up to."

"I know, I… I'm sorry," Sokka said. Toph truly appeared irritable about her discovery: her distaste and distrust towards Azula couldn't have been more obvious.

"As for you… any missteps and I'll put you in a cast again, in a more uncomfortable position still," she said. Azula glared at her. "Don't make this worse for yourself than it is… though maybe you've done more than enough of that so far."

Sokka grimaced, glancing at Azula with unease. The Princess eyed him begrudgingly just before Toph marched into the cell too, reaching out to pat down Azula. The Princess resisted at first: Toph growled before bending the metal's cell to keep Azula standing still: she found the empty bag of togarashi chili powder in her pocket… along with the mirror.

For a moment, Sokka saw actual panic in Azula's gaze when Toph removed it. He winced, turning towards Toph as she undid Azula's momentary restraints.

"Toph, you don't have to take that. It's just a mirror," Sokka said.

"It's got glass. She can break it and slit her throat open with a shard, cut her wrists… trust me, when you've been dealing with this kind of police work, you know better than to leave anyone with any potential weapons," she said, leaving the cell without relinquishing the mirror anew. "The things I've… uh, not seen, have been gruesome enough to make you shit your pants, Meathead. But honestly, I shouldn't even be so friendly with you, dumbass. Everyone's been worried sick about you… get out of there and explain whatever the hell is going on here, will you?"

Sokka winced: he glanced back at Azula, who eyed him accusingly as Toph loosened some of her restraints… but only some. She was shackled anyway. Sokka breathed heavily.

"I'll… find a way to get you out of here," he said.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Azula whispered. Sokka sighed.

"You're not making anything easy. Not that you ever do, but still…" he said. "Just… trust me, okay?"

"That's a tall order," she said. Sokka rolled his eyes.

"Considering what you were up to and how that got us here…"

"I never said you should trust me. Therein lies the difference," Azula said, sardonically. "Go on, then… get out. Tell her all about how nice you think I am, I'm sure she'll give you a piece of her mind."

Sokka grimaced as Azula folded her arms over her chest and sank on the floor – there wasn't even a small chair for her to sit on. It was a narrow, dark, unsettling cell… and that was where she'd stay unless he figured out how to convince Toph to get her out.

The Princess sighed, her previous mood well and truly gone by now – Toph had dragged her to prison far too quickly for her to truly process any of what had happened. The euphoria over having screwed over Iroh hadn't worn off until now. It indeed was a petty revenge… but it had been funny. Sokka's bad mood simply had come from her recklessness at picking a fight with someone as dangerous as Iroh, with enough contacts and pull to get her into real trouble if she were ever caught… and she wouldn't have been, if Sokka hadn't showed up demanding for explanations. Though she might have been, if she had stuck around out of hubris alone simply to enjoy the result of her devious plan.

And now she was alone again… well and truly alone. No mirror… no water. No reflective metals in the cell, either.

For the first time in a year, Yue was gone, and she would remain gone for hours, if not longer than that.

Toph was still holding onto the mirror after Sokka explained everything to her. The earthbender scowled, gripping it firmly, rubbing her forehead with her free hand's fingertips as she sat with Sokka in an empty room of Kuei's Palace.

"You're telling me you finally got a lead on Yue, and that lead was Azula. And she's not doing anything bad to Yue, not that you can tell, but she's stuck to her and maybe until Yue stops being stuck, she won't be able to go back to the sky and the moon will stay nasty. Is that it?" Toph asked. Sokka shrugged.

"That's the basic principle of it."

"And you were on the run with Azula for all this time. She didn't kidnap you… you were just out and about fulfilling Yue's last wishes, or whatever Azula tells you are her last wishes."

"I think she's being pretty genuine, actually. It's kind of obvious when she's lying about whatever Yue is saying…"

"So, she's trying to lie anyway. And she's still a hazard to the world, particularly to people who she thinks slighted her. Like Iroh," Toph said, skeptical. Sokka grimaced.

"And yet I've spent months with her, and she's done nothing bad to me. I mean, sure, we ended up in trouble today, but this is objectively the worst thing that's happened to us since we set out together," Sokka said. "I know it's hard to believe, Toph… but I think there's just way more to Azula than what meets the eye."

"No kidding. My eye's meeting none of it, I'll tell you that much," Toph said. Sokka sighed.

"I didn't mean…"

"Are you fucking her?"

Sokka froze at the question. Toph raised an eyebrow.

"What about Suki?" she asked. "Does she know?"

"I'm not…!" Sokka exclaimed. "Nothing like that has happened between me and Azula, okay? And it doesn't have to be like that! I could just be helping her with Yue and nothing would need to happen between us…!"

"But something did, going by how nervous you are," Toph smirked. "I can tell the difference between 'wow, that's gross', 'no, but how I wish something would happen' and 'holy shit, she's onto me', so you be careful, Sokka…"

"Look…! It's not that easy, okay?" Sokka said. "And Suki doesn't know and doesn't need to know because… well, we went to Kyoshi Island first, before Ba Sing Se. We're over."

"Heh. Finally," Toph said. Sokka sighed heavily. "No offense to Suki… well, no offense to you either, frankly. You both deserved better than what you were giving each other. She only seemed to make you miserable back when she was in Republic City…"

"Well, there's no need to worry about that anymore," Sokka said, shaking his head.

"So, Azula's the rebound…"

"No, she's not," Sokka said, firmly. "If… if anything happened between her and me, it'd be its own thing. I wouldn't be doing it because of Suki, or because of Yue. I… I do think I've found a way to connect to her, Toph, and no, I don't mean anything as physical as sleeping with her! I just… have had some of the best conversations of my life with her, you know? This is not normal. And as wicked as she may be… you have to admit, putting spice in tea isn't exactly among the worst crimes someone can commit, is it?"

"It's… not," Toph said. Sokka smiled.

"If she hadn't risked us getting caught, I would've been laughing my ass off with her. I hope she knows that, but I was worried anyway…" he said.

"Why can't you just come clean?" Toph asked, raising an eyebrow. "You just did with me, so do it with everyone, damn it. It's not going to help if you keep being on the run with Azula…"

"Toph, is anyone ever going to give her a chance?" Sokka asked. Toph frowned. "Right now… I want to help her sort out this mess with Yue. Once Yue is back safe where she needs to be, once the moon is aglow and I've done right by her for once? I'll focus on Azula fully. I'll make sure to fix whatever she's broken, everything she's damaged, and…"

"Well, frankly… it's not like she's been that awful lately?" Toph said, running a hand over her hair. "Even when she took all those kids, it was stupid that she didn't actually do anything to them. Even kept them well-fed, apparently, they had individual beds to sleep in, for crying out loud. I'm not saying it was good that she took them, obviously, but… she's making no sense, Sokka. What the hell is she trying to achieve? Feels like she stirs up shitfests and then walks away right before doing anything genuinely harmful. And even then, well, everyone wants her head on a stake. Not that I don't know why, but… it's almost like she's making fun of Zuko and Kuei, and they're ready to murder her for it. Doesn't sound logical, does it?"

"No," Sokka said, earnestly. "That's why… I know you told Kuei. I know you wanted to do right by me and help me, but… I was with Azula willingly. And I want to go back on the road with her. So, please…?"

"Easier said than done…" Toph sighed, shrugging. "But I'll try to reason with the bastard, I guess. If all fails… guess I'll just try and take you into my jurisdiction somehow, but I'm not sure that would work, honestly."

"Might not," Sokka admitted.

"Ugh, you make everything so damn annoying, Sokka. You're the worst," Toph growled, rising to her feet and punching his shoulder. "Go find something to eat in the kitchens or whatever. And get out of that stupid Dai Li outfit. Doesn't suit you to wear it."

"Heh, yeah. I'd rather not wear it too," Sokka said.

"Also? Your sister's been worried sick about you. Rest of your family too, I bet, but she's the one I hear from the most," Toph said. "You might as well send her a letter to tell her you eloped with your new girlfriend so she goes back to ranting about what an idiot you are instead of crying that Azula's likely cutting you open and eating your innards, or so."

"She… doesn't actually think Azula was going to do that, does she?" Sokka grimaced. Toph shrugged.

"Beats me, but she was very dramatic the last time she rambled about it. I just tuned her out after a while," Toph smiled at him from over her shoulder. "Anyway…"

She was almost at the door when she stopped abruptly: guards opened the door she had been ready to leave through… and Kuei stepped through it, instead.

"He's here? Oh, thank you for your assistance, Chief Toph!" Kuei smiled brightly at her before turning a kind gaze upon Sokka. "I'm so glad to see you safe and sound, my friend!"

Sokka's stomach sank at the sight of him: for the first time ever, he found himself figuratively standing between the king and Azula… and siding with her over him, without question. Her explanations from the previous night as good as dismissed his goodwill for the man entirely…

"Earth King," Sokka said, soberly. Kuei smiled, offering him a curt nod of his head.

"I'm truly relieved Chief Toph could retrieve you safely from that harpy's grasp. I've heard you were her captive! It's truly a relief that you appear to be unscathed," Kuei said. "Rest assured, she will face justice for all her crimes very soon."

"Rest assured?" Sokka repeated: he might do best to play along Kuei's attitude, to pretend he despised Azula more than anyone, and that her alleged capture of him meant that he, above anyone else, ought to be the one to pass judgment of her, in his own home…

But even though the idea of such subterfuge crossed his mind, he stopped short from acting on it when his stubbornness took the wheel instead: it sat utterly ill with him to hear the man speak of Azula's fate in such unfavorable terms.

"I have nothing but disdain to offer her," Kuei growled. "She has attempted to undermine this city, this land, for the last time."

"She had no intentions of undermining anything. Well, maybe her uncle's shop, but that's it," Sokka said. Kuei raised his eyebrows. "She wasn't here to take back the city or something like that, if that's what you thought."

"She… w-what? Are you certain of that?" Kuei asked. "Sokka, my friend… perhaps your judgment is clouded after spending too much time with her?"

"You mean, like the sorts of people who become prisoners of war and end up siding with whoever captured them?" Sokka asked, with a slight smirk. "Well, you see, there's one problem with your theory: I was never Azula's prisoner. I traveled with her willingly, from the first moment."

"Y-you… what?!" Kuei gasped, eyes wide. "Sokka…!"

"What? Feel betrayed, do you?" Sokka smirked, arms folded over his chest. "Funny if that's the case… because you know what story she told me, just last night? Ah, the story of why my invasion plan in the Fire Nation backfired and failed as catastrophically as it did, resulting in the imprisonment of my father and all adult warriors and fighters just as the war was at its height! If only it had worked, there's a chance that I might have been able to help end the war months earlier, resulting in a lot less violence and in the salvation of the Earth Kingdom before the Fire Lord tried to set the whole place on fire!"

"W-what…? What do you mean?" Kuei said. Sokka's own eyes widened in undisguised outrage. "Whatever she's telling you, she's deceiving you! Messing with your mind, Sokka, you can't let her…!"

"Did you or did you not tell her and her allies all you knew about my invasion plans while they were disguised as Kyoshi Warriors?"

Kuei froze: clearly, he had forgotten he'd done that at all. Toph coughed, an uncomfortable grimace across her face.

"He did? Really?" she asked Sokka. He glared at the king so fiercely it was hard to tell which of them was the one of royal blood, for a moment. Kuei swallowed hard.

"B-but I didn't know who they were! It's not my fault that I couldn't tell…!"

"You spent weeks with us!" Sokka exclaimed. "I'm not holding you responsible for her outwitting you: I'm holding you responsible for not thinking things through and basically leaving us to enact a plan that was fated to fail! If you'd told us what you'd done, we could've tried to plan things so extensively that any of their strategies to defend from us would've failed to faze us! You're not at fault, no, for the Fire Nation's worst sins… but you are at fault for being negligent! For failing to reason with your own actions! For sitting idly and pretending that everyone else will sort out your problems for you! You could've spared us so much trouble if you'd just put your damn head to good use for once and told us the truth! But see? You ended up helping Azula ages ago, in more ways than you've ever acknowledged… so you're the last person with any right to judge me for doing the same thing now. If I'm a traitor for joining her willingly on the most harmless journey she's ever undertaken, then you're a traitor for helping her prepare for the Invasion safely through your negligence and forgetfulness!"

His furious rant seemed to catch Kuei entirely off guard. His cheeks flushed, he probably felt a burst of shame inside his gut…

But not long after Sokka finished talking, the King scowled in his direction.

All the metal in the cell was rusty. Shadows didn't work. That was a good thing. That was a good thing.

Azula hugged her legs to her chest as she tried to reassure herself: this was right. This was what she had wanted from the first time she had looked into the river to find a stranger over her shoulder, only to glance and find no one there. She was free from Yue, or at least, she would be other than in dreams, dreams that never made any sense and that made it appear as though Yue was in pain, anguished, struggling… none of which seemed to be happening to the woman in the water, or the mirrors, or any reflective surfaces. She always smiled, always talked kindly… she was annoying. She was infuriating, even. She lied, and lied, and…

And she was the most constant presence in her life since a year ago. The one person who was there… because she had no choice but to be there, indeed.

She had asked something of Azula. She had a goal to achieve. A goal Azula had started fulfilling, even if half-heartedly and dismissively.

And now Azula would be executed.

Yue's dreams would go unfulfilled in the end.

She didn't want to die. Sometimes she did, but right now, she didn't. She was on the road with someone who didn't constantly glare at her or fail to understand her or scowl at her or…

He understood her in strange ways. Their bickering was unlike anything she'd experienced before. He cared about what she was doing, he looked after her in his own way, and the most important thing…

He was honest. He was the most honest person she had ever known. She didn't need to fear that he'd lie to her. She didn't need to question his every word.

She had felt safe. She hadn't even realized it… but she had. Suddenly, Yue had stopped being a mere burden once he showed up. He had shaped her ordeal into a fun adventure, somehow. Maybe Yue wouldn't leave even after this trip, but… Azula was actually having fun. Even when things didn't go as planned, even when matters weren't perfect, she had enjoyed the strange journey she had joined Sokka on.

And now it was over. All because she had taken a petty revenge on her uncle… everything she had been hoping to achieve for Yue was over.

What the blazes did she want from life, for herself? Nothing, she thought… maybe something. Maybe vindication. Maybe validation. Maybe the hope that someone, one day, would care that she was alive. Maybe the hope of one day experiencing the kinds of bonds she had always been denied. Maybe the curiosity of ever finding out what love truly was… for she didn't know. She couldn't know. No one had showed her. She had never truly felt it, as far as the asylum people had told her, so… so…

Footsteps approached her cell: she winced at the sound. She hadn't expected anyone so soon. She had assumed she would be left to marinate in her misery for hours, maybe even days, with no food or drinks, until they finally came to drag her to her execution. Was Kuei that eager to get rid of her, or…?

The footsteps' rhythm was familiar. Azula frowned.

"Hey."

Her heart jolted, even if she didn't think it should have, upon hearing Sokka's voice again.

"Is there room for another one in there?"

"W-what…?" Azula gasped, raising her gaze at the small window on the door. It only barely allowed her to see a silhouette among the bars. "What's that supposed to mean? Why would you want to…?"

"Didn't really mean to say I wanted to go to prison… more like I expect I'll end up here too once Kuei stops fuming," Sokka said. Azula's eyes widened.

"What? Why?"

"Well, I may have brought up what you told me… that he's responsible for the Invasion's failure because of his negligence and carelessness. But then things got heated…" Sokka said, leaning against the cell's door. "And I told him, among many things, that if he intended to execute you, he'd have to get through me first. He didn't like that very much, so…"

"What?! Are you out of your mind?!" Azula gasped. "Sokka, do you underestimate that man's willingness to see me dead? Because, if you do…!"

"I don't. That's why I'm here now," Sokka said, with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm not here to make you feel responsible or guilty, or… I just… it felt like a better place to be at. Better company."

"You can't be serious…" Azula said, gritting her teeth. "Sokka, I'm not better… I'm not worth what you think I am. I don't know what the hell got into you or why it did… if it's about last night, please forget about it all. Please, you really don't need to…"

"I'm not going to forget. No matter what," Sokka said. Azula winced. "I'm an inconvenient jerk that way, sorry to say…"

"Sokka, this is all my fault," she said, gritting her teeth. "This is…! I've caused trouble by being a selfish asshole! If I'd just stayed with you, if I'd just talked things over with you, maybe we would just be in the city, showing everything to Yue! But we're not, because I…! Because I panicked! Because whatever happened or didn't happen, it meant I nearly had betrayed Yue over you! And I tried to… to do better! To remind myself of who I really was, and what I am is… a source of chaos. That's what I do! I break things, I mess them up, I damage people, I fuck everything up until I've had my fill! I burn dolls, nets, houses, I threaten my friends, I try to kill my brother, I turn my allies into terrorists…! I'm bad news! Everyone knows I am! So why are you trying that hard for my sake? If it's for Yue…! Sokka, I…! I'm not… not worthy of being the one who channels her, to begin with."

"Worthy?" Sokka repeated. "Who gets to decide that?"

"I don't know! I have no idea who made this stupid bond between us, but they just wanted to ruin everything for Yue, I know they did!" Azula roared. "Because no one… no one should be saddled with me. And now that I'm going to… t-to die whenever the blasted Earth King chooses, I can see everything that much more clearly. I'm going to die… and nobody will care. Nobody will shed a single tear. Because no one should! I… I amounted to nothing. I achieved nothing. I'm just… a failure. Took Ba Sing Se, but then failed to hold it. Killed the Avatar, but he didn't stay dead! Kidnapped children, they went back home and I profited from none of it! Recruited my friends, and they stabbed me in the back! Twice, at that, even though the Kemurikage weren't even my…! They weren't…! A-and I just…"

"Azula…" Sokka called her name, gritting his teeth as he placed a hand on the metal door. He could hear her sobbing inside the cell, and his heart ached with desperation to join her…

"I thought… this was my one chance to get one damn thing right," she said, gritting her teeth, pulling her hair… "My chance to… to prove myself, if just to Yue. If I could take her wherever, if I could fulfill her last wishes, t-then I could… I could have been worth something after all. I wouldn't be… the failure worse than the failure. Maybe by then I would… I would be able to look in the damn mirror and not think I'd rather not see my face at all. But… but…"

Sokka gritted his teeth, pressing his head to the door. What had happened wasn't truly his fault, he knew, but a burst of guilt had bloomed in his chest all the same…

"I failed you… and I failed her," Azula said, sniffing. "You… the only person who ever chose to bear with me and… and didn't seem to hate me by the end of it. And she's… stuck with me, but still, even when she lies as much as she does, I… m-maybe… m-maybe I just wanted to think she was lying because I never felt worthy of any of it. If she truly thought that highly of me, t-then she was a fool. She was just setting herself up for failure, because that's all I am anymore. All I ever amounted to. And even now… that's all I can hope to be."

Sokka gritted his teeth before punching the wall next to the door. Azula winced over the sound, even if it wasn't as violent as it might have been if he had struck the metal directly.

"I wish…" he said, with a fierce snarl. "I wish I could find every person responsible for convincing you of that damn lie and beat every last one of them to a pulp."

Azula remained silent, frowning slightly at his words. Which lie? What on earth was he…?

"You… you're like no one else I've ever known," Sokka snarled. "It took… days for me to realize that. Within a few weeks, I couldn't help but hate that… that I'd never really known you until then! And the more I get to know you, the more I grow to understand you, the more I… the more I wish we'd met in any circumstances but the ones in which we did. That there had been no damn war that pitted us against each other… that we could've been friends, instead. I've never found a kinship like the one between us before. I've never felt seen, or heard, the way I do with you. And we're different, yes, of course we are… but I value you, Azula. I… I could never let him do what you think he will. If he tries to execute you at all… I'll break you free. We'll run again! We'll leave and find someplace else to exist in, and… a-and one day, when the bastard least expects it? We'll infiltrate his Palace, like you did! And… we'll pour togarashi chili powder not just in Kuei's tea, but in his every meal! In his desserts, and his alcohol, and even in his bath water…!"

"Sokka…?" Azula said, eyes wide in astonishment.

"It was… it was funny as fuck, Azula," Sokka said, gritting his teeth. "I didn't find it funny at first just because… because you were in danger. Because I was terrified that this damn outcome would happen. And I didn't want it to! But I didn't because… because you deserve anything but to rot in a cage like this! I didn't do it because of Yue… it's not that I want a direct line of communication between her and me and that's all you could ever be for me! Azula… if you refused to tell me anything else about her, if you refused to let me talk to her, or show me to her, I would be fine with it! I'd learn to get by! But I… I can't forsake you. Whatever I can do to help you to find peace and happiness, I'll do it. But I… I want to do it for you. Not for Yue… for you."

"You don't… don't mean that," Azula said, with a sniff. "Sokka…"

"Didn't you say you liked me because I don't lie?" Sokka said, with a slight smile. "You really think that changed in the past hour, or however long it's been since we last saw each other?"

Azula covered her mouth with a hand as she struggled to contain the tears. Her wretched, treacherous mind urged her to question his every claim, to refuse to believe them…

But her heart longed for all of it to be true. She had been alone for too long. She needed someone by her side far more direly than she ever had known she did.

"I'm never… never leaving you again," Sokka said, firmly, as though he had known exactly what thoughts coursed through her mind. "Not unless you get so sick of me that you push me away, of course, but… I came back because I wanted to. Because I'm worried about you. Because I won't let you be lonely for one more second if I can help it."

"But… I fucked up, Sokka. I fucked up so badly, I… I let you down. I let Yue down, I… she deserves better. She should be bonded to you," Azula sniffed, shaking her head. "She would be better off if she were stuck with you, not with me…"

"Tell you what?" Sokka smiled. "I'm… I'm really glad she chose you."

Azula winced. Sokka sighed, pressing his head to the door again.

"And if she didn't choose you herself… then I thank whatever providence made it so you'd be the person who could see her. But I know that, after all this, Yue wouldn't choose me. She wouldn't prefer me as her host over you. And if she did? Then… then she'd be crazy. I wouldn't hesitate to tell her as much. But… I like that it's you, Azula. I really do. I… I wouldn't have chosen anyone else to be Yue's partner."

"Anyone?" Azula sniffed. "Not… your sister? The Avatar? Even… Suki?"

"You. This only works the way it does… it's only worth doing, because I'm doing it with you."

Azula gritted her teeth, pressing her face to her knees as tears spilled down her face. Sokka breathed deeply behind the door, never having imagined he'd bare his heart this way to her… but with her certainty that she would be killed soon, something inside him had snapped cleanly. He swallowed hard before whispering the last truths in his heart:

"I couldn't save her. Yue was out of my reach," Sokka whispered. "But I'll be damned if I ever let anyone take you away from me."

"You… you'd fight the Earth King for me?" Azula asked, swallowing hard. "You know that's… a tall order. A dangerous one, at that…"

"Doesn't matter," Sokka said, with a proud smile. "Unless, of course, you don't want me to…"

"What would you do, if I told you to go?" Azula asked. "If I told you to leave and stop wasting your time on someone who'd never deserve… e-everything you've offered her?"

"I'd tell you… that you're not the boss of me and I'll stay if I want to," Sokka smirked. Despite herself, Azula laughed.

"You're out of your mind," she said.

"Maybe. But if fighting to stand alongside someone who has been alone for too long means I'm crazy?" Sokka whispered. "Then I don't care to be sane. It's been ages, Azula, since I felt this certainty that I'm doing what's right, that I'm where I need to be. And I'll keep on doing exactly that… if you let me."

"And if I don't?" Azula asked. "If… if I tell you that I don't want this after all? T-that… you'd do best to find happiness anywhere else? To find someone else Yue can connect to, maybe, or someone she could even come back to life fully through? Would you… would you still stay?"

"I don't want anyone else… just as I know she doesn't, either," Sokka said, earnestly. Azula winced. "I may be overstepping my boundaries by speaking for her, Azula… but I believe she would tell you everything I've just said. You matter, Azula… you matter to us. As mean, rude, devious, chaotic as you care to be… you matter."

Azula sobbed, glancing at the door helplessly. She felt him so close by… even though he was blocked from view, barely a shadow past that door. Was that how Yue saw everything? Was this the way she experienced everything through the reflections, through the mirrors…?

"I'd bust this door down if I could… but I'll find a way," Sokka smirked. "You won't stay there forever."

"What… what will you do, if we succeed?" Azula asked. "If I can… finally break this bond with Yue and she… she returns to the sky? If the moon is restored… what will happen to us by then? Sokka…"

"I'd say it's something for us to figure out after that's done," Sokka said. "But… unless you were sick of me by then, I'd stay with you. We… we could keep on having weird adventures, traveling around just like this. I wouldn't need more…"

"What if you're the one who gets sick of me?" Azula asked. Sokka smiled and shook his head.

"Hard to believe you'd ever make that happen. Maybe other people have weak hearts or bad taste… not me, though," he said, proudly. "You'll never stop challenging me, will you?"

"Don't think I'd be able to live with myself, if I did…" Azula smiled.

"Then… there's no way I'll want to walk away," Sokka smirked. Azula laughed inside the cell. "Whatever comes tomorrow, or the next day, or the next… I intend to face all of it with you."

"You're mad," Azula said, with another sad smile, as tears spilled down her face. "I'll be your downfall."

"Fine by me," Sokka whispered.

"I'll make you miserable."

"Not likely."

"You'll have to learn to cook because I won't."

"You'll learn with me. And you'll pour awful amounts of spice in my every meal," Sokka decided: she laughed, and where the sound could have been unsettling once, now he treasured it profoundly. "I'm not going anywhere without you. I promise."

And she believed him.

Even though she didn't think she'd have another day left to live… Azula believed him.

It was the first time she had truly trusted in someone, as faithfully as that, since the height of her days as a Princess, when she had placed her every expectation, hope and dream in her father's hands. She trembled… knowing, and hoping, that Sokka would be far more careful with them than Ozai ever had cared to be.

"I just have to figure out how to…" Sokka snarled, glaring at the door furiously… when a new arrival made him freeze on the spot.

He glared at her fiercely… knowing it was no use. She couldn't tell she was being glared at, after all.

Toph stepped forward: there was a somber serenity in her face, one that seemed to be about to reveal that Azula's execution was due right away, right now… but she said nothing. Sokka didn't speak, either.

"What happened? Sokka…?" Azula called him, her heart suddenly jolting in a bad way.

He didn't speak. Neither did Toph.

Instead, the metalbender approached the cell, and she raised a hand to the door.

Sokka's eyes widened as the lock scrambled in place, right underneath Toph's grip. He gawked in disbelief… as the door suddenly swung open.

"What did you just…?" Sokka gasped.

Azula jumped inside the cell, standing upright quickly. Sokka was right outside… again, within her reach. And Toph stood with him.

"You've… come to take me?" Azula asked, an uncertain shiver rushing through her stomach. Toph, however, snorted and shook her head.

"Think I'd have the key, if I were here with anyone's permission," she said.

Sokka and Azula gasped: the earthbender smirked and shrugged.

"What can I say? I may or may not have eavesdropped on, uh, a lot of that. So…"

"You… wait, you're taking pity on me?" Azula gasped. Sokka grimaced, glancing at her.

"Azula… pity and empathy aren't the same thing, you know?" he said. She glared at him, as though he weren't talking sense. "Sometimes, people just want to ridicule and mock you for your struggles and suffering. That's pity. But sometimes… they want to help. Sometimes they feel the unfairness of what you're going through, and they refuse to stand idly by for another second."

"Bet it was the first one, in her case," Azula said, jerking her head at Toph. The earthbender smirked.

"Wish it were. That would've been funnier," she said. "Come on, you dunderheads. You don't have much time to get out. I'll help, sure, but you'd better get going. The minute Kuei realizes I let you out, all hell's going to break loose."

"You're sure of what you're doing…?" Azula asked, eyeing Toph with uncertainty. Toph shrugged.

"Nope. But Sokka sounded so sure when he was claiming his undying love for you that I figured I'd give you the benefit of the doubt, so…"

"I…! I didn't say undying love…!" Sokka squeaked, cheeks flushed. Toph smirked, punching his shoulder.

"Didn't have to. You're as transparent as they come," she said.

"You… what?" Azula said, staring at him in disbelief. Sokka winced, looking at her with uncertainty.

"She's… messing with me. With you, too," he said, half-heartedly. "Nothing more to it."

He truly was an honest man. Too honest.

That was why she could tell he was lying.

It wasn't meant to be. It couldn't be. She wouldn't let it, for Yue's sake.

But even if that was the case, Azula couldn't hold back the impulse that led her to jump out of the cramped cell, impulsively wrapping her arms around his torso.

Sokka froze at first, but he responded in kind a moment later. Toph smirked, shaking her head at their surprisingly emotional reunion.

"One would think you were fighting to save her for ten years, Sokka: wasn't it like an hour? You're still wearing that stupid Dai Li uniform and I told you to change out of it…"

"Didn't really have the time," Sokka smiled awkwardly as Azula pulled back, dabbing at her tears. "Guess I could go for a change of clothes now."

"And a change of scenario, outright," Azula said. "I'd have shown the rest of the city to Yue, but… feels like this is a failed trip all over again."

"I wouldn't call it that," Sokka smiled, clasping her shoulder before beaming at Toph. "We have a new ally now, too!"

"Well, now, hold your horses," Toph said. "I helped you once, doesn't mean I'm going to be cleaning up your messes forever, you know? It's going to take a ton of work to get Kuei to cut either of you any slack after the stuff you told him…"

"He didn't own up to his fuckups over the Invasion, did he?" Azula inquired.

"No chance in hell," Sokka huffed. "I can't believe I ever had respect for the guy. I mean, fair, it was never a ton of respect, but still…!"

"I'm such a bad influence on you," Azula laughed, smiling fondly at Sokka. "I shouldn't enjoy it as much as I do… but I really do."

Sokka smiled slightly too: gratitude, lined with something else, passed between them as a secret might, even if it wasn't something quite as cryptic as they would have wanted to keep it. Toph, of course, could sense every shift of their heartbeats, and how they raced harder as they smiled at one another as they just did.

"You can save the flirting for later, Sokka. She might be my favorite out of your girlfriends so far, but that's no reason for you two to start making out in front of me…"

"I'm your… favorite?" Azula asked, blinking blankly, before shaking her head. "I'm not his girlfriend!"

"The fact that you only denied it later is pretty damn funny," Toph laughed. "Anyway, whatever! Just get going before I… oh. Wait a second… this is yours."

Azula frowned until Toph pulled something out of her pocket, handing it to her without another word:

It was her mirror.

Yue's reflection smiled brightly at her over her shoulder.

A relief Azula never imagined she'd feel suddenly bloomed in her heart… the tension she had been feeling loosened up altogether.

She was still here.

She hadn't failed Yue irremediably yet.

She hadn't…

"You…" Azula gasped. Yue laughed, tears in her eyes.

"I'm glad… I'm glad I could see you again! I was so scared, but you're back!"

The Princess trembled, tears spilling down her face too as she hugged the mirror to her chest. Sokka smiled fondly at her, wrapping an arm protectively over her shoulders before smiling gratefully at Toph too.

"I won't forget this, Toph. Guess you won't let me forget it, either," he said. Toph smirked proudly.

"Damn right, I won't. You'd better be ready to pay up a favor when I ask anything from you," she said. "And now… I'll go play the pain in Kuei's ass, or the wall in his way, whatever's needed while you two get the hell out of this city. Don't dawdle, got it?"

Azula nodded promptly, and Sokka did the same: he extended a one-armed hug to Toph, even if he didn't let go of Azula, so it wound up being a rather awkward group hug. The earthbender patted his back, shaking her head.

"I have no idea what we're doing… but at least it's kind of funny, huh?" she smiled. "Get going, then. No time to waste."

Sokka nodded, hugging Azula tightly to his side before ferrying her away: in all that time, Azula held the mirror as a treasure she would never relinquish anew, occasionally glancing in it to find Yue's bright smile at the other side: her friend… yes. In spite of everything, when she hardly knew if something was happening between her and Sokka or not, the undeniable truth that dwelled in Azula's heart dictated that Yue was, indeed, her friend. The responsibility she felt towards her, the purpose that girl had brought to her heart, could not be explained otherwise.

"I… I won't fail you," Azula promised, startling Yue with her seriousness. "I'm sorry for everything. But even if it kills me, though I'd rather it didn't, I… I'll fulfill your dream. I'll show you everything I can. I promise."

Yue smiled earnestly, tears spilling down her cheeks as well: it felt as though she wanted to reach through the mirror, and she even raised a hand as though to touch the glass…

"Thank you. I… I really want to see the world with you. I really do, Azula."

Her impulsive thought, again, was that Yue was lying. She quelled and silenced the vicious accusation of her heart, instead smiling earnestly and nodding. Sokka's grip around her shoulders tightened, and he led her carefully through the prison block, expertly guiding her through the very same route he, Toph and Kuei had used upon escaping years ago, from Azula's custody. To think he was in similar shoes now, but with the very opposite person who had once captured him…

He smiled, meeting Azula's eyes when she glanced up at him. There was a spark of something deeper in her soul now, a deep craving for so much of what had been denied to her for this long… and the gradual, but effective, receding of something she had been unable to shed for years so far.

A true bond had been born between her, Sokka and Yue. One she had never anticipated, one Sokka hadn't expected either. A year ago, he would have laughed in the face of anyone who told him he would come to feel the urge to protect Princess Azula as fiercely as he did right now… but her loneliness had finally been chased away, and Sokka intended to keep her from ever feeling alone again. He'd stand by her side, no matter what fierce challenges might come their way.

"I… I cannot believe Sokka, standing by that wicked woman! She took this city from us, and he'd gladly rot in jail with her? Curses, what's gotten into him?!" Kuei squealed. Toph, beside him, shrugged.

"More like who's gotten into his pants, if you ask me. He keeps saying he didn't get it on with her, but he sure wants to even if he didn't…" Toph smirked. Kuei nearly screeched, his face paling even further.

"Do not jest about anything of the sort! Goodness, that's…! That's awful!" Kuei squealed, shaking his head and shuddering.

"Well, don't worry, I'm sure they won't name their children after you, or ask you to be their guardian, or…" Toph said, a finger scrubbing in her nose carelessly as Kuei winced at her uncouth demeanor.

"Would you please not…?"

"Toph!"

The earthbender grimaced: someone was marching towards her, down the very corridor she and Kuei were standing at. She immediately smiled awkwardly upon noticing who it was, and she made certain to wipe her finger clean – on Kuei's robe, who of course yelped at her disgusting choice – before stepping towards the man who approached… with a retinue of heavy-footed Fire Nation soldiers.

"Zuko…! Isn't that nice?" Toph beamed, hands on her hips as he finally stopped before her. "Hope you had a fun trip! I had no idea you were in the area!"

"I've been nearby, in my personal airship, looking for signs of Azula in the northern Earth Kingdom for a while," Zuko snarled. "And I heard she's here. Is it true? If it is, King Kuei, thank you for capturing her. I will take her off your hands now and…"

"You'll what?" Kuei scowled. "No! She's a criminal to the Earth Kingdom, and she will pay for what she's done!"

"You… no! You can't take justice into your own hands that way! That's my sister you're talking about!" Zuko exclaimed. "And I'm the Fire Lord! You have to release her into my custody at once!"

"I most certainly won't allow the Fire Lord to tell me what to do!" Kuei rebuffed.

Toph sighed, though she smiled slightly: well, Zuko certainly had arrived at the best of timings. If Kuei was distracted arguing nonsensically with him, he'd be even less likely to realize that Sokka and Azula were nowhere near his Palace anymore…

For they had snuck out through an escape route, across the west of Ba Sing Se, and now they rushed away from the tall Outer Wall, hoping that no one would be able to recognize them from afar. Yue's mirror nestled safely in Azula's bag, for they had retrieved their belongings from the inn quickly before rushing away, knowing their time was far too limited for any more detours or sightseeing in the Earth Kingdom Capital. Azula glanced back, though, once they were close to entering foliage that might keep them covered, safer yet from prying eyes…

"I never really imagined she'd help us," Azula whispered. Sokka smiled, having slowed down when she did, too.

"Toph's a stubborn one. Solid as a rock, malleable as earth in some ways, too," Sokka said. "But I guess she might have felt some kinship with you, too. She never had friends before we found her, so… maybe she wants to give you the chance to make your own bonds, and your own mistakes, just as she did."

"Very generous of her, if that's how it is," Azula said.

Ba Sing Se would likely remain a bittersweet place for her… the land of her great triumph. A place where she had never truly fit in before… and she certainly didn't now, either. But for once, she found the stalwart, strong city embodied the principles of earthbending, of earth itself, as resiliently as the girl who had saved her did. Where she had basked in using the Dai Li as her tools once, for their instincts had reminded her of that of firebenders, regardless of being earthbenders, now she couldn't help but rejoice in the fact that Toph was earth, pure and strong… and by being exactly that, she had saved Azula's life that day. Just so, Yue and Sokka were water, adapting to their circumstances, shifting and changing, flowing alongside her rather than snuffing out her fire…

She smiled to herself: who would ever imagine she, of all people, would wax poetic about balance? And yet as she smiled at Sokka, knowing she wasn't alone at last, she couldn't help but wonder if this was exactly what she needed. If, perhaps, her fire would only learn to burn stronger once it came into contact with their earth, their water, too. If, in the end, she had needed to find new bonds, new experiences away from the only world she had ever known…

Sokka spread his hand towards her then. The guilt of knowing she might be growing too close to the man before her echoed in her heart again, as it often did… but she pushed it aside this time before reaching to take his hand in her own.

Together, they ran into the forest, across the streams, the dirt roads and the wild foliage, not knowing what their next destination would be just yet, but unafraid of rushing towards it, so long as they stood together.

"Oh, oh! Look at that! It seems she likes him, doesn't she? She does, she does, and you're here to see it all! Ahaha, I knew it! I knew I was right! She is a treacherous monster, and you a naïve fool! It's so amusing! So amusing!"

Yue gritted her teeth, closing her eyes: the mirror had been tucked away for now. Besides the occasional glimpse, such as whenever they crossed a stream, she wouldn't be able to see what was happening. Even so, she had seen their linked hands. She had overheard their conversation, once Toph had approached with the mirror.

Just as she had overheard Azula's words the night before, spilling her innermost thoughts, every last one of them, once the drinks had coaxed her utmost honesty.

"They found each other! And you? You'll have nothing! No one! You're alone, and they'll forget about you!"

The evil laughter behind her threatened to overwhelm her. Even so, Yue closed her eyes and stood her ground, no matter if those cruel bonds of darkness seemed to close in around her.

"Why so stubborn today? What is it? Are you upset? Are you angry? Are you… betrayed? It is a betrayal, after all…!"

"She hasn't betrayed me. She never could."

"But she loves him! And if she doesn't yet, she will soon… the man you loved! The man you wanted to spend your life with! And now he's hers! He wants to be hers, too! You're but a tool for them, aren't you?"

"I don't care if that's all I get to be."

"What?"

"I don't. I… I'm not so naïve, not so lost, that I would think Sokka and I could ever return to each other. When I became the Moon Spirit… I knew what I would sacrifice. I did it, regardless. I never did it while thinking… while thinking that I wanted him to never find happiness, solely because I wouldn't! I knew I would be alone… but I would have to be worse than a monster to want him to face that same anguish too. I… I sacrificed myself so the world would be saved. So that those I love could live in peace…"

"And now, the one you love has been stolen by someone else!"

"You… you don't understand…" Yue laughed, running a hand over her hair. "Stolen? That sounds wrong, and she's… she's not someone else. She's… she's important. She matters. Like Sokka said, she matters. I…"

She didn't dare say it, outright. It was better not to say it after all. What she had dared say so far was enough… for her captor didn't believe it anyway. He was laughing, mocking her, disregarding her words, claiming her human selfishness would demand for more than she was due, that the day would come when she would despise Azula for taking what was hers, and Sokka for giving it…

But the truth dawned on Yue so smoothly, so kindly, that she couldn't help but smile upon realizing exactly why she'd never become the person her captor wanted her to be:

She loved Sokka and wanted his happiness, above all else. Despite her captor's cruel words, with his bitterness and thirst for strife, she realized she would never grant that wicked entity the satisfaction he craved. She would never feel the hatred and spite he wanted to elicit in her heart towards the woman who held Sokka's hand now…

For the truth was that she loved Azula, just as well.

[no1ryomafan]

I mentioned this briefly last night in my last big post so here it is: The Ashe&Grey to Kei&Go parallel meme. I would’ve done a compare and contrast chart instead of listing out all the parallels but last time I did it the resolution was even worse then these 💀 besides just pointing out the similarities is funnier since I’d say overall their vastly different characters- but these baseline similarities I can’t help to notice even if I doubt it was a reference on ZXs part to Armageddon. Moral of the story they'd all be besties probably. (Also I’m going to ramble in the tags once more-)

[lov3yv4mps]

CAN YOU WRITE A CUTE FUNNY FIC OF LEEKNOW AND READER TRYING TO HAVE SEXY TIME BUT SOONIE, DOONGIE, AND DORI WONT LEAVE YOU GUYS ALONE?

IT SOUNDS SO CUTE AND I ABSOLUTELY NEED IT <33

₊˚⑅⋆ pests ⋆⑅˚₊

Genre: smut/fluff MDNI !!

Warnings: kissing, some dirty talk, cursing, hellacious teasing and laughing, almost fingering, cats obvi :3

v4mps note: this was so cute and fun to write AGHH, but I feel like the on and off smut made it even better :D

It was supposed to be simple: Lee Know, you, a quiet evening together. The kind where you could finally enjoy each other’s company without any interruptions. The plan was set. No distractions. But of course, nothing ever went according to plan when it came to his cats.

You were lying in his bed, pulling him close for a heated kiss, your hands already slipping under his shirt, feeling his muscles flex beneath your fingertips. “Let’s make this quick," Lee Know murmured, his voice already laced with lust as he pressed you back into the sheets. "I want you so bad, baby."

Before you could answer, a soft, persistent meow echoed from the corner of the room.

You froze. Lee Know’s face twisted with annoyance. “Soonie, I swear to god…”

His cat had made her entrance, hopping onto the bed with a little yowl as she made herself comfortable, curling up right between you both. Lee Know let out a frustrated laugh, his hand running over his face in disbelief.

“Really? Now? Of all times?” he muttered, giving you an apologetic look. “She’s been out all day, and now she decides to invade our private time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching down to gently pet the cat’s head, who was completely unfazed by the chaos she had just caused.

“Guess we’re not alone,” you teased, trying to ignore the way your body was still aching for him.

Lee Know sighed, rolling his eyes. “I’m gonna get her out of here… give me a second.” He leaned down to gently lift the cat, but before he could, a second meow sounded from the other side of the room.

Doongie, his adorable yet extremely clingy cat, was now on the prowl, circling the bed and looking up at you both with big, pleading eyes.

Lee Know groaned, throwing himself back into the pillows. “Fuck… why is it always now?” His hands gripped the sheets, trying to keep his composure as Doongie hopped onto the bed, nuzzling into your lap with loud purrs.

You couldn’t help but laugh, scratching Doongie behind the ears. “He’s so needy,” you teased, but your laugh caught in your throat as Lee Know’s lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“I don’t give a shit about needy cats right now,” he growled, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease the skin of your sides. He was clearly trying to keep his patience, but his breath was already ragged from the teasing.

Just as you were about to respond, a third meow cut through the air. Dori, the smallest and most mischievous of the bunch, darted into the room like a little ball of energy. She pounced onto the bed and immediately positioned herself right between your legs, staring up at you both with wide, innocent eyes.

Lee Know threw his head back, groaning in frustration. “What the fuck, Dori? Seriously?” He looked over at you, his gaze darkening with mischief and desire. “This is your fault, you know that?”

You couldn’t contain your laughter, the situation too absurd. “My fault? You’re the one who adopted all of them!”

The tiny cat didn’t budge an inch, just staring up at you, completely oblivious to the tension between you and Lee Know.

“Okay, enough of this,” Lee Know said, his voice dripping with frustration. His hand found your wrist, pulling it up to his lips for a heated kiss that made your whole body tense with anticipation. “Fuck, you’re killing me, baby…” he muttered, teeth grazing your bottom lip.

You gasped into his mouth as his hand slid down, fingers brushing over your waistband. “Lee Know, are you seriously gonna—”

But just as his fingers slipped under your waistband, the cats simultaneously leaped onto the bed and started running in circles, their tails swishing all over the place.

Lee Know stared at them in horror as his hand froze, fingers still pressing against your skin. “Are you fucking kidding me? This is a nightmare.” He let out an exasperated laugh, his frustration mixing with amusement. “We can’t even have a second to ourselves.”

You pulled him back in for a kiss, ignoring the chaos around you. “Does it really matter?” you whispered against his lips. “I’m still here, and I’m still ready for you.”

The teasing tone in your voice made Lee Know groan, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled, kissing you harder, his fingers slipping lower. He traced the waistband of your pants, eyes darkening with desire. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You moaned into the kiss, your hands grabbing his shoulders as he pressed down, grinding against you as his fingers finally slipped into your panties, teasing your entrance. The sensation made you gasp, but the moment was cut short by a loud meow. The cat jumped up right on Lee Know’s back, pawing at him desperately for attention.

“Oh my god!” Lee Know shouted, nearly choking on his own frustration as he tried to shake the cat off his back. “Seriously, what the fuck!?”

You were laughing uncontrollably now, feeling the tension break in a burst of light-hearted chaos. “I guess it’s not happening tonight,” you said between giggles.

But Lee Know wasn’t ready to give up that easily. He shot you a devilish grin, fingers still teasing at your core. “Oh, it’s happening, sweetheart. Cats or not, I’m finishing this.”

And despite the cats swarming all over you, he did.

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[babydollmarauders]

MISTLETOE MAKE UP — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which luke plays christmas cupid after watching jack mope around missing his ex-girlfriend. (6.2k words)

notes: honestly hard to believe that this is my final hockey fic, i just wanna say thank you to everyone who has interacted with any of my fics because i really appreciate all the love and kindness that’s spread on here, and a big thank you to @thedevilrisen for allowing me the honor of participating in this wonderful Ho Ho Hockey event as my farewell to NHL fic writing 🤍 i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it 🤍

“i’ll pay you.”

desperation drips from the lowly whispered words as Luke unlaces his skates from beside his captain.

“i don’t want your money.” Nico rolls his eyes at the young player, matching his hushed tone. both men give a quick once over at their teammate across the locker room before their heads dip low, bowing together to continue their private conversation, “why are you so set on this?”

“i can’t answer that.” Luke huffs out quickly, Nico’s curiosity rising farther, “can you just make it happen?”

Nico shrugs, “i guess so. but i want the answer after the party.”

Luke pulls away, kicking off his skates, “that’s fine. if all goes to plan, you’ll understand my plan quicker than that.”

with that, Luke turns away, carrying on in his undressing after the conclusion of practice.

***

“secret santa time! everyone take one name from the hat as i make my way around!” Nico’s voice booms across the locker room, attracting everyone’s attention to the black New Jersey Devils hat grasped in his hand, nearly overflowing with pieces of folded paper inside.

eyes meeting with Luke’s, Nico gives a nearly inconceivable nod, affirming their previous conversation. he makes his way around the locker room, letting each player pick a name out of the hat, purposefully skipping over his close friend until he’s the last to pick.

with a subtle switch of the hat to his other hand, the Devils captain drops one final slip of folded paper into the empty hat before making his way over.

Jack disinterestedly plucks the final piece of paper from the hat, his dulled eyes widening as he reads the name.

“alright, everyone has a name! that’s who you’re getting a gift for!”

“hey, Neeks?” Jack’s voice pipes up.

“NO SWITCHING!” Nico calls out, cutting his fellow forward off before he can get the chance to ask. “see you all for practice tomorrow!”

avoiding Jack’s lingering presence, Nico grabs his things before hauling out of the locker room; leaving his friend behind him, blinking in wonder as he questions what the hell he’s gonna do now.

Nico’s already typing out a quick text as he climbs into his car, hitting send before he even leaves the arena.

to: Y/N

Hey, just did the secret santa drawing. You have Jack. No switches. See you at the party!

***

“i want it to be cute.” her statement causes a chuckle to bubble up Luke’s throat.

“the whole point of an ugly christmas sweater is for it to be ugly, y/n.” his reply earns him a disapproving groan from the other side of the phone.

“you know what i mean,” she lilts, “of course it’ll be an ugly christmas sweater, but there’s a difference between cute ugly and ugly ugly, ya know?”

“uhhh, no? is this a girly thing?” Luke questions his friend as he beeline’s through the crowded department store, knowing exactly what to grab. “like when you used to tell Jack that you would be ready in five minutes but really you meant fifteen minutes but you didn’t wanna say fifteen minutes cause you knew he’d whine?”

“what? you know what, nevermind. i don’t have time for this. thank you for grabbing me a sweater but i have to get back to work, i’ll see you at the party.” her words come out rushed and whispered, cluing Luke in that her break is over and she’s back in the office.

“yeah, i’ll bring the sweater to the party for you. see you.”

his eyes lock on the bright red sweater in front of him, a perfect match to one he knows is laying on the back of a chair in he and Jack’s apartment. pulling her size off the rack, he makes his way to the cashier and pays before heading back out to his car; hiding the sweater in the glovebox so his brother doesn’t see it.

***

the sweater is slightly itchy and she knows he definitely grabbed the wrong size.

“does it fit okay?”

no.

“yeah,” she nods, the perfectly styled curls in her hair bouncing with every bob of her head, “thank you, Lukey. i really appreciate it.“

“it’s no problem.” he swallows, his eyes drifting toward the closed entry of Nico’s apartment, the loud laughter of his team and their significant others carrying through the thick wooden door. “you ready?”

“do you want me to lie? or should i be honest?” her self deprecating chuckle tells Luke all he needs to know.

“isn’t it time you guys faced each other? maybe this is what you need.”

“what i need is a drink,” a deep puff of breath releases from her mouth in an exasperated sigh.

“what am i even doing here? i said yes to coming over a month ago, when i actually belonged here, Luke. nobody wants me here except apparently you and Nico.” Luke’s heart aches at the unshed tears that gather in her eyes, obviously reminiscing on what went down just a month prior.

“no, we all want you here. what you mean is that you don’t think Jack wants you here.” he corrects, “which is also wrong. he may not admit it, but i know he’s looking forward to seeing you.”

“if he wanted to see me, he would call me. or text me. or show up at my damn door.” she mutters dejectedly, “we broke up. he doesn’t wanna see me.”

“y/n-” Luke starts, the truth sitting on the tip of his tongue.

that Jack has been miserable without her.

that he’s been driving Luke crazy asking how she’s doing.

that Jack hasn’t called or texted or shown up at her door because he thinks she doesn’t want to see him.

that he hasn’t been himself since they broke up and that it’s causing Luke to wanna put his head through a wall.

but before Luke can voice any of that, the door beside him swings open, the hinges creaking as his older brother steps into the hall.

“oh,” Jack stops; freezing when he locks eyes with the girl standing just a few feet away, “hey.”

her back steels and for anyone else, it would seem as though y/n is completely unbothered; indifferent to the run-in. but Luke could spot the sadness in her eyes from a mile away.

“hi.” she stammers, the hands in which she grips a gift bag of red and green tissue paper being shoved behind her back.

the hallway is quiet for a moment, the two ex-lovers silently inspecting each other with an identical expression of love and loss; wanting and wishing; pain and desperation.

and when Luke sees they’ve taken notice of their matching sweaters, looking down at themselves before their eyes dart back to each other? he knows, it’s time to get his plan started.

“let’s get this party started!”

taking the lead, Luke enters through the doorway, the two exes following behind him at respectable distances until they arrive into the crowded apartment.

y/n tries to keep close to Luke, but quickly loses track of him as he disappears amongst his teammates.

“Y/N!” a mellow accent calls out, a hefty arm slinging over her shoulder as she sets the aforementioned gift bag on a table of presents.

“hi, Timo.” she smiles, gifting a quick squeeze to the taller man beside her.

but as she hugs one man, her eyes drift to another, accidentally colliding with the icy blue of Jack’s as he stares at his teammate with a look that sends a rack of shivers down her spine.

“i didn’t think you were coming,” the swiss grins, finally taking a step back and letting his arm fall back down to his side. his eyebrows lift as he looks between the former couple, “are you guys back together?”

at the question, Jack coughs, slowly shaking his head as y/n answers, “no- uh, no.”

before Timo can ask any more questions, Luke reappears by her side, filling the gap of space between she and Jack.

“are you coming to get a drink or what?” a knowing smile rests upon his lips, y/n’s eyes narrowing at his chipper attitude.

but the need to take the edge of anxiety off her shoulders overrides any sense of self preservation that she previously held.

“lead the way.”

Luke cocks his head toward the doorway that she knows leads to the kitchen. as she follows behind him, Jack hot on her trail, she’s reminded of all the times she’s been in this apartment before; team parties and hang outs with the guys, accompanying Jack as he dropped things off to his captain, and the very first time he introduced her to his friends.

she nearly runs into Luke’s back as he makes an abrupt stop just inside the kitchen, causing Jack to side step and pause in the entryway beside her in order to avoid bumping into her.

“oh hey, mistletoe!” Luke chimes, a bit too happy as he waves a hand above where the former couple stands.

two heads snap up to look above them, cheeks becoming a ferocious shade of red as they glance between each other and the plant that hangs above their heads.

“ooooh!” a voice sings out in a childishly teasing tone and Jack and y/n look over to see Dougie standing beside Luke, pointing at the dangling mistletoe. his loud tone garners the attention of the many people who hang about the kitchen, several eyes widening as they spot the plant above the exes.

“kiss!” Bree calls out as she sidles up beside her fiancé, “if Dougie and i had to, and Nicole and Jesper had to, and hell, even Timo and Nico had to, then so do you! kiss!”

her words start a chant amongst the crowded area, a dozen or so people loudly chorusing the word “kiss!” over and over, their eyes glued to Jack and y/n, who stand in the doorway with blushing cheeks and sad eyes.

“you don’t have to,” y/n starts, her voice a mere whisper as she tries not to choke on her words.

“it’s okay. let’s just give the people what they want,” Jack cuts her off.

allowing muscle memory to take control, his hand rests upon the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he guides her lips to his. as his lips make a featherlight brush against hers, y/n allows her eyes to flutter shut, her cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and want.

Jack slots his lips against hers, his breath stilling as he reminisces on the time when he could do this freely. the time he wants back so damn badly.

the time before he started that petty argument over her always steaming up the bathroom and leaving a puddle of water outside the shower. before she accused him of starting things just to argue. before he said those six little words. those six stupid words that he’s come to regret more than anything else he’s ever said or done. those six foolish words that have caused him more misery and pain than any injury ever could.

“maybe we should just break up!”

her body melts into his, her hand resting on his chest, settling over his rapidly beating heart. the kiss is just as good as she remembers, still soft and sweet and dripping with feelings of love and comfort. his hands on her skin still fill her with excitement and a sense of security that she’s only ever felt with him.

as he pulls away, she only just stops herself from chasing his lips once more; from stealing his breath one more time and capturing his lips with hers once again.

but she doesn’t do that.

she refrains and allows him to step back, the loss of his touch leaving a chilly breeze in the place his hand had just occupied. and a whole new sense of longing pangs in her chest.

but when they both look back to the crowded kitchen, no one is paying them any attention. the gaggle of people have resumed whatever conversations they had held before the exes arrival.

“a drink,” she whispers, her fingertips tracing over her slightly swollen lips as she walks toward the countertop occupied by several bottles of liquor and soda, “i need a drink.”

but as she reaches for a bottle of berry flavored vodka, she risks one glance over her shoulder, her eyes locking on Jack’s downturned head as he stares at his shoes. his body is still rooted in the entryway, his own hands rubbing over his face as he seems to angrily mutter to himself.

and as she turns back to mixing herself a drink, Jack’s own eyes rise to look at her stiffened shoulders and rigid posture. watching her mix her signature drink of lemonade and berry vodka, all he can do is scold himself and observe as she takes a sip and then turns to greet his captain as he steps up beside her.

and all Jack can think is how badly he wants to taste the sweet and alcoholic taste on her lips as he kisses her again.

without the help of a stupid plant this time.

***

y/n has spent the last hour of her time engaged in conversations with anyone she can talk to; actively avoiding her ex and hoping he can’t see just how flustered that kiss made her feel. and just how badly she wants to do it again.

y/n watches as Luke bounces around the room, taking note that he’s only speaking to the fellow singles of the team.

what is he up to?

“so you and Jack,” her attention is pulled back to the conversation at hand, her face turning towards Nicole once again, “you guys are finally back together?”

y/n opens her mouth to deny, but Nicole just keeps talking, “i mean, it’s about time. everyone knew it would happen, we were just biting our tongues and waiting for Jack to stop being so mopey and get his head out of his ass long enough to apologize for whatever he did.”

Nicole laughs at her own words as y/n blinks in surprise.

mopey? jack was moping?

wasn’t this exactly what he wanted?

what he asked for?

“we’re not together again,” y/n sighs, shaking her head as she allows her eyes to search out her ex for the hundredth time that night, “Luke and Nico said i still had to come, so here i am.”

“oh,” Nicole’s eyes widen, a true deer-in-headlights look if y/n had ever seen one, “i’m sorry, forget i said anything.”

“it’s okay, you’re not the first to ask tonight,” y/n chuckles, a twinge of sarcasm laced within the sound, “and you probably won’t be the last. it’s odd that i’m here, right? i tried to back out and Nico and Luke wouldn’t let me, but i shouldn’t be here, right? this is his territory.”

Nicole shakes her head, her hand coming up to gently rub against y/n’s arm in a comforting motion as she cuts off her rambles, “you have every right to be here. you became friends with everyone here just as much as he did, y/n.”

“i don’t know,” y/n shrugs in a self-pity filled moment, “it feels like maybe i should just go home, you know? i don’t wanna make him any more uncomfortable than i already have.”

Nicole laughs, her head tipping back as a shrill giggle escapes her lips. as she composes herself from her outburst, she gazes at y/n’s furrowed brows and confused expression before pushing her face to look over at Jack, who stands across the room laughing at something Curtis said.

“does that look like he’s uncomfortable to you?” Nicole huffs out another laugh as she shakes her head, “that boy has been looking at you like a lovesick puppy all night. he’s seemed happier tonight than he has after any winning game in this past month.”

“i-”

“gingerbread house time!” Nico’s booming accent sweeps across the apartment, attracting the attention of the entire crowd of people, “get in pairs and go to one of the stations of gingerbread because the best gingerbread house at the end of the hour gets a mystery prize!”

when y/n looks back to Nicole, Jesper has already glued himself to his fiancée’s side, ushering her towards the dining room table.

turning towards where she last saw Luke, y/n is more than a little affronted to see him stood beside Timo at one of the gingerbread house stations; and the more she looks around the room, the more she’s realizing that everyone already seems to be paired up.

everyone except the very person she had hoped would be paired up. the very person who is walking right towards her with an awkwardly bashful smile.

“guess it’s you and me,” Jack shrugs, pushing his hands deep within his front pockets as y/n nods, a pink hue lighting up her cheeks as her shoulder bumps his when they take their place in front of the last available station.

y/n easily takes the lead, the more creative of the two, and Jack is all too happy to just follow her instructions. he watches in silent admiration as she decorates each wall of the house with a white icing bag and attempts to copy her designs on the symmetrical pieces in order for to help finish their house faster.

Jack takes pleasure in the light grazes of their fingers as they stick the walls of the gingerbread house together. noting the blush that creeps upon her cheeks and neck as she giggles when he mocks a salute after each order she makes of him.

they work in tandem, a well-oiled machine as they construct the house, sneaking peeks at other houses as they work; studying their competition.

“i think we’ve got this in the bag,” Jack tells her, his head bowing down to whisper in her ear. her entire body heats as his lips ghost the shell of her ear; a shiver tracing down her spine when the oddly intoxicating scent of mint and beer hits her nostrils, along with the overwhelmingly familiar warmth of his cologne, “poor bastards, i’ve got a secret weapon that they don’t even realize.”

“oh yeah?” a smirk curls at the side of her lips. she pulls away to look in his eyes, a familiar feeling buried deep within them that makes her heart speed up in her chest, “and what’s that?”

Jack grins, electricity buzzing between them as he dips his head lower, their faces inches apart, “you.”

heat pools deep within her stomach, that same fuzzy feeling she used to get when he would flop on top of her in bed after a long day. when he would tease her that it was his ‘recharging’ time and that he needed to hear her heartbeat to remind him that she’s alive and that he was lucky enough for her to choose him out of all the guys in Newark.

y/n loses herself in the memory, zoning out as her eyes focus on watching Jack apply icing the roof of the gingerbread house, whilst her mind is far off in the past.

“time’s up!” Nico’s exclamation pulls her back to the present, Jack’s hand dropping the icing bag on the table. they stand back to study their creation, shoulders bumping as they both nod in agreement of their job well done.

Nico slowly makes his way around the stations, carefully studying each and every gingerbread house until he finally makes it to the former couple, a clap of his hands startling the two ex-lovers.

“i think we have a winner!” Nico shouts, making a wild wave of his hands towards their gingerbread house, “congratulations, Jack and y/n!”

everyone slowly retreats back to the living room, leaving the three of them behind in the dining area.

“here’s your prize,” Nico smirks knowingly, handing y/n a slip of paper, “i suggest using it during the break.”

Jack peers over her shoulder, his close proximity making y/n a little woozy as she feels his chest press against her back while her reads the paper in her hands. the two don’t even notice Nico retreating, too busy staring at the paper.

“a couples massage?” y/n blinks, “what was he planning to do if Timo and Luke had won? were they gonna have a romantic massage together?”

“i think we both know Luke would never win a gingerbread house competition,” Jack laughs, their eyes drawing up to look over at Luke and Timo’s half built house, which is missing a roof and a wall, “i’m pretty sure he ate half their house… and Nate’s.”

the house beside Luke and Timo’s also lacks a wall, and when y/n glances into the living room, she sees Luke idling beside a few of his teammates. a half eaten wall of gingerbread clutched in his grasp, making her choke out a laugh.

“he’s still eating it,” she knocks her body back against Jack’s, pointing his younger brother out to him.

but Jack is too busy to look. too focused on where her back has leaned to rest lazily against his chest, just like she used to do when she began to tire out while they were hanging with his team. when she used to lean back against him, her head resting against his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her midsection, holding her up as she her blinking got slower and heavier. yet she always refused to go, telling him she didn’t want to cut his time with his friends short.

“well, uh, you can have this,” she stammers, stepping away and putting the dreaded distance back between them as she turns and holds the paper out towards Jack.

“no, you can have it,” he shakes his head, pushing her hand back toward her chest, “i wouldn’t be able to put it to use.”

“you think i would?” she blinks, “i’m sure you can give it to your parents or something, just take it.”

“you hold on to it.” he insists, stepping back when she tries to hold the paper back out to him, “maybe you’ll end up needing it.”

“what if i don’t wanna use it with anyone?” she remarks, “you know i don’t feel comfortable doing that kind of stuff with people.”

“you did it with me,” his response makes her freeze, her body tensing at the first verbal acknowledgment of their relationship.

“that was different.” she mutters, tears now burning at the backs of her eyes, trying to push their way out.

“why?” he questions, eyebrows threading together as though to mock confusion, because she knows that he knows why. he just wants to hear her say it.

and how cruel that is.

how cruel he is for making her remind him of how special he was to her; how comfortable he made her.

“because it was you.” her words are a whisper, her voice breaking on several syllables as she sets the paper down on the table.

Jack is fast with a reply, but y/n’s feet are faster, carrying her out of the room and down the hallway before he can get a word out. she locks herself in the bathroom, tears breaking free and flowing down her cheeks.

she’s no longer capable of holding them back. no longer able to pretend any longer that she doesn’t regret walking away; letting him win that argument instead of fighting for them. for him.

“y/n?” a knock sounds at the bathroom door, Luke’s voice carrying through the wood, “you in there?”

clearing her throat, y/n shakes her head in attempt to pull herself together.

“yeah!” she calls back, plucking a tissue from the box on the counter and dabbing at her tear stained cheeks.

“we’re about to do secret santa.” Luke informs her, and y/n nods, though she knows he can’t see her.

“i’ll be right out!” she amends, wiping her nose and throwing the crumpled tissue into the wastebasket.

she’s runs a hand over her hair, making sure she looks presentable before she opens the door to a worrisome Luke.

“are you okay?”

“never better!” she paints on a grin, bumping her hip against his in a cheerful manner as she makes her way past him, making her way back to the living room.

everyone is standing around when she arrives, watching as Dawson opens a gift bag and pulls out a hat, a hoodie, and an extremely broken candy cane.

“thank you, secret santa.” he chuckles, making Curtis nod.

“you’re welcome.” Curtis looks especially pleased with himself, causing the crowded living room to laugh, “the candy cane was Owen’s contribution.”

“that makes more sense.” Dawson laughs, fist bumping Curtis as he sits down on the armrest of the sofa.

“let’s see who’s next,” Nico trails off, plucking a badly wrapped present from the top of the gift table. he reads the name tag on the gift, smirking as he does so, “y/n.”

“oh, okay,” she gives a soft smile, accepting the gift from Nico’s outstretched hands.

peeling off the paper from the heavy gift, y/n’s eyes widen at the black Coach purse she’s been eyeing for months. her heart stops, only two people in this very room knowing how badly she’s been wanting this exact extra roomy purse. but as she holds it in her hands, she feels something hard and heavy on the inside. peering inside the purse, her hands tremble at the sight that greets her. inside the spacious purse, sits a special edition copy of a book she knows she’s pointed out at Barnes & Noble, remarking about how it’s her favorite book. and underneath the gorgeous foiled covered book with sprayed edges, rests two gift cards; one to that very book store, and another to Amazon.

there’s only one person who would know both how badly she’s wanted this purse, and how badly she wanted this special edition copy.

her eyes rise slowly, blinking back even more tears as she gazes across the room at her ex-boyfriend, a d the way her worries at his bottom lip in anxious anticipation of her reaction, confirms her suspicions of who her secret santa was.

“thank you, Jack.” she whispers softly, unsure if he could even hear her, but when he nods in acknowledgment, she knows he did, “i love them.”

“yeah, of course,” he coughs, nodding his head again, attempting extremely hard to keep his composure, “it was no problem.”

“alright!” Nico grins widely, seeming particularly happy as he locks eyes with Luke who idles beside him, “next is…”

Nico picks another gift from the table and reads the name tag before handing it off to someone else. it goes like that for at least fifteen minutes, practically every gift some variation of the same things; a hoodie, a hat, a wallet, a full upper body heating pad, etc.

but while everyone else is watching as gifts are opened and secret santa’s become less secret, y/n’s eyes keep wandering to the man who stands across the room. the one who finds her looking at him more than once.

but can he blame her?

her heart swells in her chest as she peeks back down at her gifts. he knew her so well. he knew exactly what she wanted and he made it happen. and that thought alone had her planning to pull him to the side later. she needed to talk to him, one on one. a real talk this time, not surrounded by people but just them and their words.

“Jack,” Nico smirks, handing the familiar gift bag over to the man of her attention.

y/n watches with bated breath as Jack pulls out the tissue paper at the top of the bag, his hand reaching in to pull out the first gift; a Carhartt half-zip that she had seen him eyeing a couple months ago. she can’t guarantee that he hasn’t gotten any of the gifts for himself in the time they’ve been apart, but she crosses her fingers in hopes that he hasn’t.

she studies Jack’s crooked smile as he eyes the half-zip, and she knows he’s probably already mentally planning an outfit to go with it. which makes her huff a laugh to herself underneath her breath.

Jack then reaches in and pulls out a box, which y/n knows belongs to the kindle she bought two months ago when he made a comment about needing to get himself one as he cuddled up with his head on her stomach whilst she read on hers. Jack’s eyes dart up to hers after he spots the last thing in the bag, opening the shoe box to reveal a brand new pair of golf shoes, the same pair he had showed her a few months prior and said he wanted to get for the next summer.

a wary smile stretches tightly across her lips, hoping and praying to whatever higher power there may be that he doesn’t already have any of the gifts.

“thank you, y/n.” he smiles a wide toothy grin as he puts the gifts back in the bag.

“you’re welcome.”

the routine starts again, the final few people opening their gifts as Jack and y/n glance at each other with longing deep within their eyes.

once the final person has opened their gift, the party resumes to its regularly scheduled holiday music and chatter, and Luke and Nico watch from a corner of the room as Jack and y/n continue to steal glances at each other.

with hesitant steps, they meet in the middle of the living room, y/n’s hands trembling as she builds up her courage.

“i-” “do you-”

they both give an awkward chuckle as they speak over each other.

“you first,” Jack cocks his head as she takes a deep breath, collecting herself.

“do you wanna go somewhere we can talk?” she asks, before clarifying, “in private.”

Jack nods, “yeah, c’mon.”

he leads her down the hallway of doors, stepping into the open guest room as she follows behind him. he takes a seat on the end of the bed, setting his gift bag on the floor beside him.

“thank you for my gifts.” her voice shakes as she stops in front of him, setting her new purse gingerly on the bed before sitting beside him, “you’re very thoughtful. i didn’t think you’d paid that much attention to my yapping.”

Jack’s eyes darken at her sorrowful chuckle, his brows furrowing, “y/n, i listened to everything you said.”

her own eyebrows raise in surprise as he continues, “listening to you talk is my favorite thing in the world.”

is.

not ‘was’.

is.

“oh,” she blinks, trying to decide what to make of his words, “besides hockey, you mean.”

“i said what i said, y/n.” he shakes his head, “i like hearing you talk about things you love and things you’re passionate about.”

her heart skips what she feels is numerous beats as he waves a hand towards the gifts beside her, “you told me about these things a few months ago and i bought them right after you told me.”

“that purse?” he muses, “i bought that online as you were laying on my chest. literally right after you showed it to me for the first time. i didn’t even need to buy any new gifts for the secret santa because i had them all sitting on the top shelf of my closet.”

his eyebrows furrow and his eyes narrow as he corrects himself, “except the book. i pre-ordered that when you showed it to me online but it got here last week.”

her eyes are soft as she observes the man in front of her, soaking in every word he said. blood collects in her cheeks as she regards him, as she comes to realize just how much he loved her.

“i bought your presents a few months ago too,” she quirks, “i was slowly collecting them to give you at christmas but…”

she trails off, refusing to say the words that hang in the air.

they broke up.

they’re not together anymore.

he wanted them to be over.

“y/n,” he starts with a heavy sigh, her eyes trailing back up from the floor to look at his face, “i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry.”

“if i could take back everything i said, i would. i was stressed and i took it out on you and it wasn’t right. i know it wasn’t right. i said things that i regret now. god, i wish you could understand how badly i regret them. as soon as you left, i knew i had fucked up. i wanted to take it all back so bad, but i couldn’t because i said them and you were gone. i didn’t think you would want anything to do with me after that, so i gave you your space and i thought i was doing what was right by leaving you alone, but if i could go back? i never would’ve said we should break up.”

her eyes sting as a single tear trails down her cheek. listening to him express his regret and anger with himself has her desperate to touch him; to comfort him in any way she can.

“i love you, y/n. and i know it’s probably too late, but i just need you to know how sorry i am for what happened, and i need you to know that i do still love you.”

Jack takes a deep breath, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he attempts to blink them back, because he doesn’t want her to think he turned on the waterworks to try and make her feel sorry for him. he doesn’t want her to take him back out of pity. he doesn’t expect her to take him back at all.

because he wouldn’t, if he were her.

he couldn’t blame her. he was a jerk, and he hurt her when she didn’t deserve it.

“i’m sorry i left.” her words are raspy and choked, so quiet that Jack can barely make them out. but his head snaps up in surprise as he registers her statement.

“y/n, no-” but before he can tell her she nothing to apologize for, she cuts him off.

“i’m sorry i didn’t fight you harder. i should’ve yelled and screamed if i needed to. i should’ve fought to keep us, and instead i just walked away. and i’m so sorry that i did, Jack.” her voice trembles, cracking on a few syllables as she turns to face him better.

“i love you so much, and i should’ve fought harder to keep you. i knew you were stressed and i knew that you probably weren’t in the right mindset, but i still left. because, i thought once you were feeling better, you would’ve called or texted or shown up or something. but then you didn’t and i realized that maybe i made a mistake by leaving your apartment that night. i realized that maybe i should’ve stayed and fought with you. i should’ve told you ‘no’ when you said we should break up. i should’ve refused. but then i thought, maybe you really did just mean it. maybe i was the reason you were stressed. maybe you truly just didn’t want to be with me anymore. and i had to accept that. but i still haven’t accepted it, because i still want you.”

before she can even think to say more, her mouth is covered by his, a breathless and heated kiss pressed to her lips.

tangling his hands in her hair, Jack pulls her even closer to him, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip. her lips part beneath his, and his tongue slips between them, leaving soft caresses against her own as she lets out a low whimper.

pulling back, they both pant for air, their bodies alight with the soft hum of electricity that sparks when they’re close.

“if you’ll still have me, i still really really want you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing lightly against hers with every move.

with her forehead pressed against his, she nods eagerly, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips, “please.”

“you gonna be my girlfriend again?” he nearly begs, a smile lighting up his face as she nods again, humming an ‘mhm’ in agreement, “i love you, pretty girl.”

“i love you too,” she whispers, coaxing his lips back to hers in another heavy, breathless kiss.

one of his hands travels down her body, bunching under her sweater as her hands grip his in fistfuls at his hips.

“you’re welcome!”

the two newly reunited lovers jolt apart, heads snapping to look at the doorway, Luke idles with his arms crossed against his chest.

“what?” Jack scoffs, scowling at his younger brother.

“you didn’t seriously think tonight happened by fate, did you?” it’s Luke’s turn to scoff, “i asked Nico to make sure you got each other for secret santa, i made sure everyone else was partnered up for the gingerbread houses, i made sure you got matching sweaters, and i made you stop under the mistletoe.”

Luke shakes his head as he continues, “do you know how fucking exhausting it was watching you two mope around for the past month and ask me for updates on each other? you’re welcome! this is the only christmas gift you’re getting from me, so don’t expect anything else.”

Jack and y/n stare at Luke in a daze, astonished by his outburst.

“um, thank you?” she lilts, tilting her head as she watches Luke push off the doorframe and spin around.

“mhm! i’m staying here at Nico’s tonight. you’re welcome! again!”

[atlabeth]

pretty boy

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer walks in one day with a new look. you handle it pretty well.

a/n: im in the opposite of a writing slump right now (will prob fall into a writing slump right after i say this) probably because im procrastinating on essays for school and i can only write when im meant to be doing work. but tiny little fluffy spencer one shots are very good for the soul right now. i think it's my way of healing from my hotch fic

wc: 1.8k

warning(s): one slightly sexual joke from emily. all fluff

You usually don’t get to the office this early, but you don’t exactly have a choice. The BAU’s last couple cases have all run one after another, barely leaving you any time in the office, and now you’re paying for it. 

You’ve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and not nearly enough time to do it all—if you’re lucky, you’ll be writing reports for a few days straight. If you’re not, you’ll be putting in some overtime.  

“This is the most focused I’ve ever seen you this early,” Derek comments. 

You shake your head with a sigh. “These reports are government mandated torture.” 

He chuckles, and he nods at Emily as she walks over to her desk. “Are you this busy?” 

She shakes her head. “I’ve still got a report to get through, but nothing that bad.” 

“I get it,” you say wryly. “You’re all more organized than me. Just don’t come to me asking to go out tonight—you know I can’t say no.” 

“But don’t shots taste better when you’re supposed to be doing work?” Derek asks, and you roll your eyes with a laugh. 

“Not when I’ve got this much work I’m supposed to be doing.” 

You hear the elevator ding and glance up—Spencer’s walking through and fixing his tie. You look back down at your report as you greet him. 

“Hey, Spence,” you call. “Why’re you late?” 

“I’m not late,” he says, and you can see him checking his watch out of your peripherals. “I’m two minutes and thirty-three seconds early.” 

“Really?” you muse. “I guess I’m just so used to you being here before me.” 

“You can’t judge my timeliness on yours when you’ve been here for an hour already,” Spencer says. 

You frown, tapping your pen against the paper. “How do you know?” 

“You’re settled in already. Your coat’s on your chair, your stack of unfinished files is smaller than it was last time we were in the office, your coffee isn’t steaming, and your mug has a chipped handle—when they were put away last night, that one was set in the front, so you’d have to be here early to get it.” 

“Touche,” you murmur. You’re not sure why you ever ask your team of profilers how they know something. 

“You also look like you don’t want to be here,” he comments. “That’s pretty typical of agents who have to be here before their regular hours.” 

You chuckle and tilt your head in admission. You don’t really want to be here, especially running on so few hours of sleep. 

“Why aren’t you as early as usual?” Emily asks. 

“My neighbor knocked on my door this morning to ask me for something,” Spencer says. “It threw off my whole routine. I picked the wrong tie, I couldn’t pack my bag properly, and I had to toast my bagel for two minutes instead of three and a half to make it out in time.” 

“How terrible,” Derek says with mock austerity. 

“It is terrible!” he exclaims. “It’s scientifically proven that a morning routine makes you happier, more energized, and ready to seize the day—carpe diem.” Spencer sets his bag on the floor next to his desk and looks at everyone else with a smile. “Did you know that phrase was actually coined by the Roman poet Horace in his Odes? It comes from the first book out of four in the eleventh poem—the full phrase in Latin is carpe diem, quam mini—”

“How was your bagel?” Emily asks to interrupt him, and he pauses. 

“It was good,” he says. “Could’ve been toastier.” 

You look up, a teasing remark on the edge of your tongue, but the words die in your throat when you actually see him. 

Spencer’s started combing a hand through his hair to fix it—must have been another part of his affected morning routine—his lips set in a pout as he tries to see his reflection in his dark monitor. He always looks good, even without trying, but now—

“You’re wearing glasses,” you say dumbly. 

“My contacts dried out,” he grumbles, still focused on his hair. “We got home so late last night I forgot to put them in their solution, and I had no time to fix them because my neighbor messed up my whole morning.” 

You nod, still unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Are you gonna keep wearing them?” 

“I don’t know. Contacts are better for cases because I’m not worried about them falling off or fogging up, but I usually sleep on the jet on the way back, and sleeping with contacts in isn’t good.” He smiles a bit as he fully turns to you, seemingly satisfied with his hair. “It reduces the amount of oxygen that gets to your cornea, which damages the cornea’s surface and makes it harder to regenerate new cells. Sleeping with contacts actually makes you six to eight times more likely to get an eye infection.”

You nod again, your brain still not quite working at full power. You always love listening to Spencer’s fact dumps—it gives you a lot of material to impress your non-BAU friends with on the side, and you’re eternally thankful for that—but right now, you seriously cannot focus. 

You’d never really thought about him in glasses, but that’s probably a good thing if this is how it makes you feel. 

You were valedictorian as an undergrad, and you received stellar feedback from your professors during your masters program. You’re an excellent profiler, a valued member of the BAU, and you’re a goddamn FBI agent. 

And yet you can’t find a single thought in your head because your coworker showed up to work wearing glasses. 

He’s still rambling about other common causes of eye infection and how nobody seems to take them as seriously as they should, when Derek, not even trying to hide his grin at your turmoil, speaks up.  

“Reid. Wanna cool it a bit?” 

Spencer’s eyes dart over to him for a moment before he stops. “Uh— sorry.” He frowns as he looks back at you. “Why do you ask? Do you not like them?” 

“No,” you blurt out, and you shake your head a multitude of times. “No. They look great. You look great. They’re—” You dig your nails hard into your palm as you try your hardest to smile like normal, and this time you nod. “They’re good, Spence.” 

“Thanks.” Spencer does that little smile-nod combo of his, and he pushes his glasses back into place with his thumb by the bottom of the frames. “That’s nice to know I’ve got another option.” 

You thank whatever god may be out there that Hotch and Penelope are busy in their offices and JJ is busy with some other case, because you think you would die if anyone else saw you like this. 

“Hey, Reid,” Emily says, also not doing a very good job of hiding her amusement. You hate your team sometimes. “They’re almost out of sugar in the breakroom. If you want coffee the way you like it this morning, you should probably get in there.” 

“What?” Spencer shoots up, his brows already furrowing into a frown. “That— that’s ridiculous. I can’t mess up my morning any more.” 

“You’d better get in there, then,” she remarks. 

“We’re an entire office of agents running on coffee,” Spencer complains as he starts walking. “How are we almost out of sugar?” 

“Because half of ‘em drink it black,” Derek says, and Spencer shakes his head with a sigh as he leaves. 

“That’s ridiculous.” 

You bury your head in your hands the moment he’s gone and Derek laughs. “I wish I could’ve gotten that on video.” 

“Don’t talk to me,” you groan. “It is not fair of him to walk in like that.” 

“And that is why I call him pretty boy.”

“He needs them to see,” Emily says with amusement as she leans against the side of your desk. “You just can’t control yourself.” 

“I need to transfer offices,” you say, shaking your head. “I can’t do this.” 

“You should ask him out!” Derek encourages. “He’d probably say yes.” 

“Absolutely not,” you insist. “I doubt he likes me like that. A— and even if he does, that’s the last thing either of us need right now.” 

“I don’t know,” Emily muses. “It looks like you clearly need something.” 

You let out a frustrated noise as you screw your eyes shut. “I’m doomed.” 

You hear Spencer say your name, and when you look over at him, one hand still pressed against your head, you see he’s got two cups of coffee in his hands. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say weakly. “I’m great. Why?” 

“I got you one too,” he says, holding one of the mugs out to you. “The one you have is probably cold by now, and it looks like you need an extra kick to get through all those reports.” 

“Thanks, Spence. That’s sweet.” He nods as you take the proffered mug, and you swear your cheeks are as warm as the coffee. He is really testing your strength today. 

“You— you have a lot,” he says, and you huff a dry laugh and nod. “I’m not trying to be sarcastic. I could take half of them if you want?” 

Your grip tightens on the mug and you can feel Derek’s eyes on you. “I couldn’t make you do that, Spence.” 

“You’re not!” Spencer exclaims. “I can get through mine really quickly—we worked together for almost the whole last case so I can do all of that anyways.” 

“...You’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition?” 

“I’m sure,” he nods. “Besides, I offered. I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to.” 

And god damn him, because he nudges his glasses back into place again, pushes a strand of loose hair back into place. You’re dying over here. 

You set the mug of coffee on your desk and pick up the top half of your pile. “All yours, Spence.” 

He takes the bottom half and smiles at you, and you smile back before he walks back to his desk. You are dying over here. 

“Let me know how I can pay you back,” you say, and he shakes his head. 

“You don’t need to pay me back.” 

“Really?” 

Spencer nods. “I mean, Morgan invited us all out on the jet last night, and I don’t think I can do it alone. If you can get out of the office in time, I don’t have to. I think that's enough of a payback.” 

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll be there.” 

He smiles again and nods, then he picks up a pen and focuses in. You turn back to your desk, your face burning. 

“What was that about him not liking you like that?” Derek says. 

“Quiet!” you whisper-yell, swatting him with the pile of files in your hand. “He might hear you!” 

“He’s not hearing anything while he’s focused on that,” he says. “That just means you can ogle him more.” 

You groan again, letting your forehead fall into your palm. “I’m pathetic.” 

“I think you’re right.” Emily chuckles as she stands up. “You are doomed.” 

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

I THINK HE KNOWS

drew starkey x fem!reader

(mood board does NOT depict reader’s appearance!)

SUMMARY: daniel craig introduces his daughter to his co-star drew starkey at the after party for the ‘golden globes,’ and they do more than just hit it off.🫣

based on this ask !! i got a little carried away with this one and i could genuinely write a WHOLE fic with drew x daniel craig’s daughter😫 i have so many ideas for this pairing, so lmk if you wanna see more !! i hope you enjoy this @drewstarrrkey <3

WARNINGS: fluff & smut (18+, MDNI!), cursing, alcohol consumption, flirty!reader, cursing, p in v, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it😣), switch!drew (mostly dom), like one (?) use of ‘good girl,’ body worship, LOTS of foreplay😝. (lmk if i missed anything!!)

WORD COUNT: 5.2k (i got REALLY carried away😭)

THIRD PERSON +

The energy of the Golden Globes after-party was electric. The clinking of glasses, low hum of laughter, and faint music filled the space. Celebrities mingled under the soft glow of chandeliers, conversations buzzing with excitement about the evening's wins.

Drew Starkey sat at the bar nursing a glass of champagne, still slightly stunned from his earlier win. He'd barely had time to process the moment—his first major nomination and now his first big award.

The crowd was overwhelming, but his co-star, Daniel Craig, had insisted he celebrate properly. Drew watched as Daniel cut through the party with his unmistakable presence, shaking hands, embracing friends, and flashing that rare smile that could light up a room. Behind him, someone followed, and Drew's attention lingered just a little too long.

"Starkey!" Daniel's voice carried above the noise. Drew straightened instinctively, placing his glass back down as Daniel approached.

"Hey!" Drew smiled. "Congrats again. Well deserved, man."

"Thank you. Same to you." Daniel clapped him on the shoulder before stepping to the side. "I want you to meet someone."

Stepping forward with a confident stride was a young woman, poised but relaxed in a way that suggested she belonged in a room like this. Daniel turned to her with an almost affectionate roll of his eyes.

"This is my daughter, Y/N."

Y/N smiled and offered her hand to Drew. "Hi. I've heard so much about you."

Drew shook her hand, his mind scrambling for composure. "You too. I mean—I haven't heard about you in that sense, but your dad's mentioned you. Not in a bad way—uh, I mean—" He stopped, exhaling with a self-deprecating laugh. "Sorry, I'm a bit flustered. It's nice to meet you."

Y/N grinned. "Quite the introduction, Drew."

Daniel raised a brow at them both, clearly amused. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. I see a few friends I need to go bother." He glanced at Drew. "Behave yourself."

Drew let out an awkward laugh. "Of course. Always."

Daniel walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Y/N turned back to Drew, tilting her head slightly as she observed him. "He's very fond of you, you know."

"Is he?" Drew replied, trying to play it cool. "He's great. Working with him was... surreal, honestly."

"I'd imagine. I've seen the movie, of course. You were phenomenal." Her tone was warm, genuine, and Drew found himself smiling at her praise.

"Thank you. That means a lot."

She leaned against the bar, signaling to the bartender for a drink. "You look surprised."

"I guess I just... still don't know how to take compliments," Drew admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's all been a bit overwhelming."

"You shouldn't be so modest. Your performance was stunning. And you've got the trophy to prove it." She shot him a teasing smile. "Don't let it go to your head, though."

Drew laughed, finally feeling himself relax. "I'll try my best. And you—your dad said you're an actress as well? And a model?"

"Here and there. I've done some niche indie films—ones that play in small theatres no one ever goes to." Her voice was light, self-deprecating but playful.

"Niche or not, that's impressive." Drew met her gaze. "What kind of roles?"

Y/N paused as the bartender slid a glass of wine her way. "I guess you could say I play a lot of brooding, lost souls. The ones who always seem to sit by windows and stare out dramatically."

"Ah, very serious. Lots of silent contemplation?"

"Exactly." Y/N laughed softly. "But enough about me. Tell me about Queer. It must've been... intense to film."

"It was." Drew nodded, leaning his elbow on the bar as he turned toward her. "Luca Gaudagnino has this way of making you feel completely vulnerable. It was a challenge, but I trusted him. There's this scene—I'm sure you remember it—where my character completely unravels."

"How could I forget?" Y/N said softly, her eyes locked on his. "You were so raw in that moment. It was almost uncomfortable to watch because it felt so real."

Drew blinked, feeling his ears heat. "That's what Luca wanted. He kept pushing me to 'stop acting,' as he put it. He'd say, 'Feel it. Don't pretend to feel it.' I'd never worked like that before."

"Well, it paid off. Watching you was like watching someone break open right in front of me. Vulnerable, stripped back..." She paused, taking a sip of her wine. "And now here you are, Golden Globe in hand."

Drew looked away, smiling sheepishly. "I'm still processing it."

"You deserve it," Y/N replied firmly. "And no one here is going to let you forget it."

Drew looked at her again, unable to ignore the spark in her gaze. She was bold—not just in what she said, but how she carried herself. It was disarming. "You've got a way with words."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Y/N smiled mischievously. "So tell me, Drew Starkey... how's the fame treating you?"

He groaned playfully, shaking his head. "You're going to make me sound insufferable."

"On the contrary, I think you're handling yourself rather well."

"You say that now," Drew teased. "Talk to me in six months when I've gone completely Hollywood."

"Mm, I don't think that's in your nature." Y/N tilted her head thoughtfully. "You seem far too grounded for that."

"You don't know me yet," Drew countered.

"Well, I'm a very good judge of character. Comes with the territory of being Daniel Craig's daughter—lots of egos to sift through."

Drew raised his brows, amused. "Is that right?"

"Absolutely. I'm rarely wrong." She gave him a sly look. "And my read on you so far is: humble, charming, and maybe a little too hard on yourself."

Drew chuckled, caught off guard. "You're bold."

"Life's too short not to be."

Drew shook his head with a small smile. "And what's your read on yourself?"

Y/N leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to feel conspiratorial. "That would spoil the fun, wouldn't it?"

Drew swallowed, the teasing lilt in her voice setting him slightly off balance. There was a beat of silence between them, the kind that crackled with unspoken tension. He cleared his throat, reaching for his champagne. "You're a mystery, Y/N."

"And you're still a little flustered," she teased, her grin widening. "Do I make you nervous, Drew?"

"Maybe." Drew gave her a crooked smile, holding her gaze. "But I think you like that."

Y/N laughed, the sound light and rich. "I do. I'm not afraid to admit it."

Drew shook his head in disbelief. "You're something else."

"So I've been told." She took another sip of wine, her expression softening just a touch. "But really—what's next for you? After all this?"

Drew shrugged, glancing around the room as if the answer might be hidden somewhere among the guests. "I don't know. This feels like such a huge moment, you know? I almost don't want to think about what's next. I just want to enjoy this."

"As you should." Y/N nodded approvingly. "Don't let anyone rush you."

"I won't." Drew paused, meeting her eyes again. "But... I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared of what comes after. What if I can't live up to it?"

"You will," Y/N said softly, her tone sincere. "You've got the talent, Drew. The rest will follow."

Drew studied her for a moment, his chest feeling strangely warm. "You're very good at this."

"At what?"

"Making people feel seen."

Y/N smiled, her expression unreadable. "Maybe you just needed someone to see you tonight."

Drew felt his heart skip, the weight of her words settling between them. Before he could respond, Y/N placed her empty glass on the bar.

"Come on," she said, standing. "You're far too interesting to spend the whole night glued to this bar stool."

"Where are we going?" Drew asked, standing to follow her.

Y/N looked over her shoulder with a mischievous smile. "You'll just have to follow me."

And he did. Without hesitation. A “Yes, ma’am,” slipping from his lips.

Drew followed Y/N as she led him away from the bar, weaving effortlessly through the crowd. She moved with a sort of practiced ease, as if she'd spent her whole life in rooms like this—grand, glittering, and full of famous faces. Drew, still buzzing from the champagne and the residual adrenaline of the evening, was mesmerized.

"I'm dying of curiosity here, where exactly are we going?" Drew asked, his voice tinged with amusement as they turned down a quieter hallway leading away from the main party.

"Somewhere a little less chaotic," Y/N replied, glancing back at him. "Unless you'd rather keep bumping elbows with half of Hollywood."

"No complaints here," Drew said, matching her steps. "I think I've shaken enough hands tonight to last me the rest of the year."

Y/N pushed open a door at the end of the hall, revealing a small terrace overlooking the city. The night air was cool, crisp against their skin as they stepped outside. The noise of the party dulled behind them, replaced by the distant hum of Los Angeles and the quiet rustling of trees in the breeze.

"Better?" Y/N asked, turning to face him.

Drew exhaled, his shoulders relaxing as he looked out over the skyline. "Much better. Thanks."

Y/N leaned against the railing, watching him with an unreadable expression. "You looked like you needed an escape."

"I guess I did." Drew joined her, leaning beside her, their arms nearly brushing. "It's a lot, you know? I'm grateful—don't get me wrong—but... I don't think I'm cut out for the whole schmoozing thing."

"Most people aren't. They just pretend they are." Y/N's lips curled into a small smile. "Besides, you've already done the hard part tonight. The rest is noise."

Drew glanced at her, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. "You're good at this—reading people."

She shrugged lightly, her tone playful but laced with truth. "It's my party trick."

"Anything else I should know about you?" Drew teased. "Other hidden talents?"

"Plenty," she replied with a grin and a cheeky wink. "But I'm not about to give them all away at once. That would ruin the mystery."

Drew shook his head with a laugh, tucking his hands into his pockets. "You're impossible."

"I get that a lot," she said, unfazed. "But you haven't run off yet, have you?"

"No," Drew admitted, his smile softening. "I haven't."

Y/N's gaze lingered on him for a moment before she looked back out at the city. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Did you ever think you'd end up here?" She gestured vaguely to the world around them. "Holding a Golden Globe, being the name on everyone's lips?"

Drew was quiet for a beat, choosing his words carefully. "I don't think it ever felt real enough to imagine. I wanted it, of course—I worked for it—but this? This feels like someone else's life."

"And yet, here you are."

"Here I am," he echoed, looking at her. "What about you? You've grown up in all of this. Does it ever lose its shine?"

Y/N's expression faltered, just for a moment, as if the question touched on something deeper. "Sometimes," she admitted. "It's easy to feel like you're just a part of the machinery—another face in a sea of them. But then you meet someone who reminds you why you love it, why it's worth it."

Drew tilted his head slightly, his curiosity piqued. "Is that why you act? Because you love it?"

"Because I can't not do it," Y/N said simply. "Even when it's thankless, even when no one's watching... I need it."

Drew understood that. It resonated deep within him—the need to create, to express, to push boundaries for reasons that weren't always tangible.

"I get that," he murmured. "The best moments are the ones no one else sees. The ones you do for yourself."

Y/N turned to face him fully, her eyes sharp and intent. "Exactly. And that's what makes what you did in Queer so powerful. It didn't feel performative. It felt real, like you gave a part of yourself away for it."

Drew swallowed, her words hitting him harder than he expected. "I'm honoured. That's... the best compliment I've ever gotten."

"It's true," she said softly. "And for what it's worth, I think you're just getting started."

Drew looked at her, something shifting between them in the quiet. He felt seen—more than that, he felt understood. Y/N Craig, with her razor-sharp wit and unwavering confidence, had peeled back his layers in a way no one else had managed all night.

"You really don't hold back, do you?" Drew said, his voice low.

Y/N smirked, stepping closer. "Why should I? Life's too short for subtlety."

Drew's breath hitched as the space between them narrowed. She was close enough now that he could catch the faintest trace of her perfume—something heady and elegant that suited her perfectly.

"You're dangerous," Drew said, his voice a little unsteady.

Y/N arched a brow, clearly amused. "Am I?"

"Yeah." Drew's lips curved into a small smile. "The kind of person who makes you forget to play it safe."

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes locking with his. "And do you always play it safe, Drew Starkey?"

Drew hesitated for just a second before answering. "Not tonight."

Y/N's smile widened, a knowing glint in her eyes. She reached up, her fingers brushing the lapel of his suit jacket. "Good."

The air crackled between them, thick with unspoken possibilities. Drew could feel his pulse quicken, every sense heightened as Y/N held his gaze. She was testing him, waiting to see what he'd do.

And for once, Drew didn't think—he just acted.

"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

Y/N's smile was slow and deliberate. "I thought you'd never ask."

Drew grinned, a mix of nerves and excitement flickering across his face as Y/N tugged him by the hand, leading him back through the terrace door. The pair slipped back into the hallway unnoticed, the music and chatter of the afterparty drowning out their hasty footsteps.

"Are we seriously sneaking our way out right now?" Drew whispered, though the grin he wore betrayed any hesitation.

"Unless you'd rather stay and talk to George Clooney about his favorite vineyards," Y/N teased, looking back at him with a mischievous smile. "Then we need to make haste!"

Drew huffed a quiet laugh. "Okay, fair point. Let's go."

They moved quickly, dodging small clusters of guests and waitstaff like a pair of teenagers sneaking out of school. Every time their eyes met, a fit of laughter threatened to spill out of them.

"Act natural," Y/N mock-coached as they passed one of the party coordinators.

"Yeah, because that's going well," Drew shot back, trying to suppress his smirk.

Finally, they pushed through a side exit and found themselves in the cool night air, away from the golden haze of the afterparty. The parking area was quiet, save for a valet who barely looked up as Y/N called for a car.

"God, I feel like we just got away with murder," Drew muttered, running a hand through his hair as he stood beside her.

Y/N grinned up at him, her cheeks flushed. "Feels kind of good, doesn't it?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah... yeah, it really does."

The car pulled up, and Y/N wasted no time climbing into the backseat. Drew followed, sliding in beside her and shutting the door. The silence in the car was loaded, broken only by the faint hum of the radio and the distant sounds of the city.

"Your hotel, I assume?" Y/N asked, glancing at him.

"Yeah." Drew cleared his throat, suddenly feeling the weight of what they were doing hit him. He glanced at her and added softly, "If that's okay."

Y/N gave him a teasing look. "Wouldn't be here if it wasn't, would I?"

Drew felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and he covered it with a laugh. "Right. Fair point."

The ride to the hotel felt like a blur, the two of them making light conversation as they both tried to ignore the electric undercurrent running between them. When the car finally pulled up to Drew's hotel, he shot Y/N a nervous glance.

"You sure about this?" he asked quietly.

Y/N's lips twitched into a smirk as she leaned closer, her voice low and teasing. "You're not getting cold feet, are you?"

"Definitely not," Drew said quickly, earning another quiet laugh from her.

They hurried through the lobby—heads down, hands brushing but never fully touching. Drew felt like his heart was pounding in his ears as they reached the elevator. The moment the doors slid shut, Y/N let out a giggle, biting her lower lip.

"We look so suspicious right now," she whispered.

"You look suspicious," Drew shot back with a grin. "I look like someone trying not to have a heart attack."

She rolled her eyes playfully, stepping closer to him. "Relax, Golden Globe winner. No one's paying attention to us."

"That's the problem," Drew muttered under his breath, earning another soft laugh from her.

The elevator dinged, and they stepped onto Drew's floor. He fumbled briefly with the keycard as Y/N watched, clearly entertained by how flustered he'd become.

"Need help?" she teased.

"I've got it," Drew replied quickly, finally getting the door open. He held it for her as she stepped inside, and he followed, shutting it behind them.

The hotel room was simple and sleek, the lights dim as Drew tossed his keycard onto the desk. He turned to find Y/N standing near the window, looking out at the glittering cityscape. She turned to face him, her expression softer now, though still full of that familiar mischief.

But it was like something had switched in the air. Drew leaning back against the door as he studied her.

"So," he began, his voice quiet but laced with an edge that made her stomach twist, "I bet you think you're calling the shots tonight?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. "I mean, I guess we'll see who's running this show, won't we?"

Drew pushed off the door, taking a slow step toward her. His movements were deliberate, almost predatory, and Y/N found herself instinctively taking a small step back. But she wasn't about to let him see her falter. She leaned forward slightly, her lips quirking into a smirk.

"You walk like you own the place," she said, her tone teasing. "But I bet you're all talk."

Drew stopped just inches away from her, his breath warm against her skin. He lifted a hand, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone who seemed so intent on dominating the situation.

"Careful, Y/N," he warned softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You might be surprised at what I'm capable of."

His fingers trailed down her neck, and she shivered despite herself. What is this? she wondered, her earlier confidence beginning to waver. There was something magnetic about him, something that pulled her in despite her best efforts to maintain control.

"Or maybe," she countered, tilting her chin up defiantly, "you're just trying to scare me."

Drew's lips twitched into a smile, but there was no warmth in it. "Maybe I am," he admitted, his voice dropping lower. "But why don't we find out?"

Before she could respond, his hands were on her hips, pulling her closer until their bodies pressed together. Y/N gasped softly, her pulse quickening as his proximity overwhelmed her senses. His lips were so close to hers, his breath mingling with hers, and she couldn't help but tilt her face upward, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he murmured, his voice rough and intimate. "And I'm not one for playing games."

Y/N swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how much taller and stronger he was than her. But she wasn't about to back down. "Good," she said, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Because I like a challenge."

Drew's eyes darkened, and without warning, he dipped his head, capturing her lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was commanding, urgent, and left no room for doubt about who was in charge. Y/N's hands flew to his shoulders, gripping tightly as she tried to steady herself against the wave of desire that washed over her.

His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entry, and she parted them instinctively, allowing him access. The kiss deepened, grew more intense, and Y/N felt her knees weaken. Drew held her firmly, his hands sliding up her sides to cup her face, angling her head to deepen the connection.

When he finally pulled away, Y/N was breathless, her cheeks flushed and her chest rising and falling rapidly. She blinked up at him, dazed and disoriented, and realized with a jolt that she'd completely underestimated him.

"As wonderful as that was," Drew said, his voice husky and raw. "I think I need to go slower. Test your limits."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she stared up at him, realisation dawning. He's not bluffing, she thought, her earlier confidence faltering. Drew was lethal, charming, and utterly in control, and she had walked right into his trap.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Drew's lips curved into a wicked smile as he leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Everything."

His hand slid from her hip to the small of her back, pressing her closer against him. The heat between them was electric, a palpable tension that threatened to ignite at any moment.

Y/N's breath came in short bursts as she tilted her head up, her lips parted in anticipation. He's not going to kiss me, she thought, not yet. But the way his eyes darkened, the way his fingers flexed against her skin, told her she was wrong. He was going to do exactly what he wanted, and she was going to let him.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his lips hovering just inches from hers. "Tell me how much you like this."

She hesitated for a split second, but only a split second. Her boldness was ingrained, a survival mechanism honed by years of attention and expectation. "I like it," she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "I like that you're taking control."

Drew's smile was slow, predatory. "Good girl," he said, the words soft but laced with authority. He kissed her then, a deep, bruising kiss that left no room for doubt. His tongue swept into her mouth, demanding, exploring, claiming. Y/N melted into him, her hands gripping his shoulders for balance as the world around her dissolved into sensation.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathless. Drew stared down at her, his blue eyes gleaming with something that made her stomach twist. "You're not in control here, sweetheart," he said, his tone conversational but firm. "Not anymore."

Y/N swallowed hard, her earlier confidence faltering. He's right, she realised. I walked into this thinking I could handle him, but he's handling me. And God, it was intoxicating.

Drew didn't wait for her response. Instead, he turned her gently, positioning her with her back to him. Her heart raced as she felt his body press against hers, his chest warm and solid against her spine. His hand cupped her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple through the fabric of her dress. She gasped, arching into his touch.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice rumbling against her ear.

She nodded quickly, too caught up in the sensations to form words.

"Good," he said, his grip tightening momentarily before he released her. Y/N blinked, confused, as Drew stepped back. He moved to the bed, sitting down and leaning back on his elbows, his legs stretched out in front of him. His gaze was intense, predatory, as he watched her.

"Take off your dress," he said simply.

The command hit her like a bolt of lightning. Y/N hesitated, her hands moving instinctively to the zipper at the back of her gown. She glanced at Drew, expecting... something. A smile, maybe, or a reassuring word. But his expression remained unchanged, a mask of calm dominance.

He's serious, she thought, her pulse quickening. He wants me to do this for him.

Slowly, deliberately, she began to unzip her dress. The fabric slid down her shoulders, pooling at her hips. She shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. Beneath it, she wore only a lace bra and matching panties, the delicate garments doing little to conceal her arousal.

Drew's eyes roamed over her body, lingering on the curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts, the slight tremble in her thighs. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with approval. "But not enough."

Y/N's brow furrowed. "What—"

"Shh," he interrupted, raising a hand to silence her. "Don't talk. Just listen."

Her breath caught in her throat as Drew leaned forward, his movements fluid and precise. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the strap of her bra. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it sliding down her arm. Her nipples tightened immediately, peaking under his scrutiny.

"Perfect," he said, his voice a low purr. He cupped her breast in his hand, squeezing gently. Y/N bit her lip to stifle a moan, her legs trembling beneath her.

Drew's free hand reached for the waistband of her panties, tugging them downward until they clung to her hips. He paused there, his fingers tracing the edge of the fabric before hooking his thumbs into the sides and pulling them down her legs.

Y/N stood before him completely exposed, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and arousal. Drew's gaze was relentless, unapologetic, as he took in every inch of her.

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

She obeyed, her movements stiff with nervousness. When she faced away from him, Drew's hands returned to her body, one stroking down her spine while the other traced the curve of her ass.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, his lips lingering as his hands explored her body with increasing boldness.

Y/N's knees nearly buckled beneath her. This is happening, she thought, her brain struggling to keep up with the intensity of the moment. He's really doing this.

Without warning, Drew spun her around and pushed her backward onto the bed. Y/N landed with a soft thud, her heart pounding as she looked up at him. Drew loomed over her, his expression dark and commanding.

"Spread your legs," he ordered, his voice sharp and clipped.

Y/N hesitated, her mind racing. Is this what I want? The question flashed through her mind, but the answer was already there, buried beneath the haze of desire clouding her judgment.

She spread her legs, her breathing shallow and uneven. Drew's eyes flicked down, noting her readiness with a smirk.

"Good girl," he said, the words dripping with approval. He knelt between her thighs, his fingers skimming the inside of her knee before moving upward. Y/N's breath hitched as his touch neared her core, her body tensing in anticipation.

And then, quite suddenly, he stopped.

"Wait," he said, his voice firm.

Y/N blinked up at him, confusion and frustration warring within her. "What?" she managed to whisper.

Drew's smile was wicked, almost cruel. "I need to hear you say it."

"Say what?"

His fingers pressed against her inner thigh, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm. "Tell me what you want," he demanded. "Tell me how much you need this."

Y/N's cheeks flushed crimson, her confidence faltering under his unrelenting gaze. "I... I don't know," she stammered, her voice barely audible.

Drew's expression hardened, his hand withdrawing from her thigh. "Then we're done here."

"No!" she cried, desperation clawing at her throat. "Please, Drew, I—"

"Say it," he interrupted, his voice a low growl.

She hesitated, her pride warring with her need. But she needed this, more than she cared to admit. "Please," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I... I need you to fuck me."

At her admission, Drew's control snapped. His hands and lips were everywhere, leaving no part of her untouched, no moment unexplored.

And within a split-second, he pushed into her, filling her completely. She gasped, her body adjusting to his size, her muscles tightening around him. Drew began to move, his rhythm slow and steady, building the tension once more. He watched her face intently, reading every twitch and moan, adjusting his movements to maximise her pleasure. It was as if he could feel every sensation she was experiencing, as if they were connected in a way that went beyond the physical.

He leaned down, capturing her mouth in another bruising kiss. His hand found her clit, his thumb circling it in time with his thrusts.

The cacophony of sounds filled the room: slick skin connecting, Y/N's breathless whimpers and cries of pure pleasure, Drew's soft moans. But to them it sounded like a symphony; a truly bewitching one.

"Y/N," Drew said her name like a prayer, his voice ragged with volatile emotions. "Look at me."

She obeyed, meeting his gaze as tears of ecstasy blurred her vision. This was it, she realised. This was what she'd been missing. The raw, unfiltered connection, the trust, the surrender.

"Don't look away," he commanded, his voice fierce but tender. "Stay with me."

She nodded, her breathing shallow as she clung to him, her body tense with anticipation. And then, as if on cue, her climax hit her like a tidal wave, her entire body convulsing with pleasure as she screamed his name.

Drew followed soon after, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he poured himself into her, his body shuddering with release. For a moment, they lay there in silence, their hearts pounding in sync.

"So," she said quietly, breaking the silence. "Not a bad way to celebrate your first Golden Globe win, is it?"

Drew let out a soft laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Not bad at all."

Y/N grinned, lifting her head to look at him. "Good. Because I plan on reminding you about this night for years."

Drew rolled his eyes, though he was smiling. "You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Not a chance."

Drew shook his head, pulling her closer. "You're the worst."

"And yet, here we are," Y/N teased, settling back against him.

Drew couldn't argue with that. As he lay there, listening to her quiet breathing and staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but think that this was, without a doubt, the best night of his life.

(dividers by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

i had SO much fun writing this request and i REALLY got carried away XD i hope this wasn’t too long, and was exactly what you wanted my lovely :) request are going to be open for the next 24 hours so get some in if you have anymore everyone !! <3

thinking of starting a tag list if anybody’s interested? as always, hearts and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[mossangelll]

stray cat rescue

vi x reader

i’m so down bad for vi i could write like 20 absolutely filthy fics about her I NEEEED HER… ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

tw: detailed smut, reader is fem - 18+ mdni!!

Strobe lights flashed in the dingy club as you sobbed hysterically into your watered down martini.

Life was going great! You got a new job, adopted a cat and were even looking for a house with your boyfriend - you hated to brag but you knew you had hit the jackpot.

And then you found out your boyfriend of two years cheated on you. Two long years down the drain in the blink of an eye.

That was that. Your perfectly curated life was crumbling before your eyes and there was nothing you could do to make the situation better. No matter how loudly you protested, your friends, bless them, decided to drag you out of your depression-induced hibernation in order to lift your spirits. Needless to say, the night was a major fail.

You down the rest of your drink and stand up from the booth, resigning yourself to another night of sobbing into your poor cat’s fur.

Before you could make your escape, you bumped into a charismatic, muscular, attractive, no, very attractive woman - Vi.

She had a wicked smile and cocky demeanour as she told you she’d been watching you for a while, that she hated to see a pretty woman cry, that she knew the best way to cure a broken heart.

Now your makeup was running for a whole other reason.

Vi’s strong arms had manoeuvred you into a mating press, ankles dangling precariously over her shoulders as she lay off the edge of the bed and you watched her tattooed biceps bulge under the low light. Shit, she was so hot that just watching her made you wetter by the second.

“Fuck, princess,” she groaned into your pussy, the vibrations forcing another wail from you, making your eyes roll back into your head, “you’re absolutely dripping wet. Think you can squirt for me again, cutie?”

Her own low pants grew louder as she lifted her head from between your legs to look up at you. Her chiseled face was flushed a deep red, eyes glazed over and, fuck, the lower half of her face was drenched in your juices. If you didn’t know any better, you would think she was the one getting ate out.

But you weren’t one to question a gift horse in the mouth so you settled for roughly tugging tufts of her cropped hair in your hands to guide her mouth back to where it belonged. She groaned at this and you felt another pang of arousal hit deep within your core.

Her mouth returned to your sopping cunt but instead of eating you out like you hoped, her scarred lips left teasing, feather light kisses on the insides of both your sensitive thighs before plunging two thick digits inside of you without warning.

“Shit, you’re so tight, cupcake.” She hissed as her wrist flexed from the force of pistoning inside and out, fingers curling up towards the spongy spot with a come-hither motion that had you drooling from the mind numbing pleasure.

“Right there! Please, please don’t stop!” You keened and writhed, unable to keep still which made Vi chuckle, dark and full of sensuality.

“Can’t believe your ex just gave this up. Sure as hell can’t complain though.”

A rough hand manhandled your left tit, squishing and squeezing it in the palm of her large hand before she flicked your pebbled nipples, making you squeal in surprise.

Her eyes shot up from where they were glued to your heaving chest and a devious smirk spread across her face. She quickly yanked out the hand that was finger fucking you, blue eyes rolling playfully at your noise of indignation, to give attention to your neglected tit.

“You’re such a slut for me, crying out for me like this and I barely had to touch you.”

Her wet fingers left behind a trail of your sticky arousal that she promptly licked up so she could lather wet, sloppy kisses all over your chest that turned into sharp nips when she reached your delicate neck - you moaned breathlessly at every kiss and the thought of the dark marks you would find blooming tomorrow, only having enough energy to stroke her silky hair.

Once she had her fill, she dove back down to continue lapping up your wetness like a man starved. The way her tongue flattened against your crying pussy to lick a wide trail up to your clit made you feel like you were on the verge of passing out, nothing could feel better than this. Mounting pleasure built up inside of you, snaking up from the tips of your toes all the way to the top of your head like a pressurised can under a flame - you’re all but ready to burst.

But then she pursed her lips around your swollen clit and sucked down so hard your vision went white and you were convinced you must be convulsing as you came so forcefully.

You knew you squirted again as Vi’s pleased chuckles and loud slurps were a good enough tell tale sign for you - where had Vi been your whole life?

Her gravelly voice called out to you from beyond the thick fog that smothered you, the only thing that tethered you to the waking world, borderline snarling in the throes of satisfaction, “Think your little boyfriend could’ve fucked your brains out like this? Bet he didn’t know the first thing about making you feel good, doll.”

You started to come down from your high, thighs trembling and so, so sticky. The world had finally stopped spinning and you think it must be over, that you can turn over and go to sleep content and happy for the first night in a very long time.

It seemed that Vi had other plans as in your haze, she had enough time to put on an impressive a strap-on. Well, know you had proof she definitely wasn’t overcompensating for anything.

You gawked at the sheer size of the strap but somehow your pussy had became slicker at the thought of being pounded by her huge dick. Her sharp teeth flashed ravenously in the dim room as her well defined and sweaty body loomed over you- it was clear she was proud at the cum-drunk reaction she elicited from you.

She leaned down and tapped the side of your cheek and you instinctively opened your mouth, watching in morbid curiosity as she spat inside and claimed another part of your body. You yelped as she easily flipped you over and positioned you in doggy with a warm hand on the small of your back to arch it further.

You felt hotter by the second and another gush of arousal leaked from your pulsating core as you felt her plush tits and hard body drape across your back. Her hair tickled the side of your love-stained neck and you could feel the faintest touch of her chapped lips against the shell of your ear.

There, she whispered so lowly you had to strain just to make out the words, “God, I love ruining innocent girls like you that don’t know the first thing about a good fuck.”

masterlist

[lupinqs]

CRUSH CULTURE ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: paige has a hopeless crush on you, a cheerleader

☆ ━ word count: 5.4K

☆ ━ warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, this one’s tame

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, inspired by this request (lol i know this was forever ago)

☆ ━ author’s note: hiii i hope y’all enjoy—lemme know if you guys want a part 2 and if so send in ideas for it!!! i have been hopelessly uncreative recently!!! also yes i have been writing tmtc and safe and sound i promise—new chapter of tmtc should be out sometime this weekend, no idea on safe and sound because goddamn that fic takes me forever to write

PAIGE HAS ALWAYS noticed you—though, funny enough, at first it wasn’t because you cheered. That part didn’t even register until her junior year, when she started paying attention to things off the court. But she’d first noticed you back in her sophomore year, in that one class she didn’t feel like she needed at all. She’d often zone out, either doodling in the margins of her notebook or letting her eyes drift around the room as she let her mind wander. Her gaze would skip over classmates until, one day, it stopped on you.

And, God, she remembers that moment. The way she’d blinked, like she needed to reset her brain for a second because… well, you. It wasn’t anything specific, nothing she could even name at the time. But there was this something about you that made her stomach flip. From then on, whenever she zoned out, her eyes would find you before she even realized it. You’d be focused on your notes or lost in thought, completely unaware, and Paige would catch herself staring just a little too long.

She’d think about talking to you, but for some reason, you made her nervous. And that wasn’t something Paige was used to feeling—not with girls. She’d been confident her whole life, even a little cocky when it came to flirting, and her reputation certainly proceeded her. But with you, all of that confidence vanished. Her brain would go blank, her hands would fidget, and her heart would pound just watching you, sitting across the room. The idea of walking up to you, striking up a conversation, felt almost laughable. You’d somehow managed to turn her, Paige Bueckers, into a stammering mess with just a look.

And then there was the other part—the part that kept her from making a move even when she managed to work up the nerve. You looked so…straight. She knows it’s a stupid assumption, but something about the way you carried yourself—she’d convinced herself that you had to be straight. Maybe it was the way you fit in with the other girls, how they flocked around you like they were all in some effortlessly straight, picture-perfect group. Whatever it was, Paige felt certain you’d never look at her the way she looked at you.

So she let it go, or at least, she tried to. But you kept slipping into her thoughts, distracting her in that class, making her mind wander back to you when she least expected it. Her silly little crush on you lingered all through sophomore year, and even when summer rolled around, she found herself thinking of you every now and then, imagining what it might have been like to know you outside of that class.

Then junior year rolled around, and her whole world changed with that ACL tear. Benched for the season, her focus shifted in ways she never anticipated. Instead of charging down the court, she found herself sitting on the sidelines, watching, observing things she normally wouldn’t have noticed. And it was during one of those games, one of those long, frustrating nights when she just wanted to play, that she saw you again—this time, on the court as one of the cheerleaders.

At first, she couldn’t believe it. She actually had to blink a few times, like her brain was trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. This was her third year at UConn, and she hadn’t noticed you were a cheerleader ever. Maybe she really was just unobservant, but it truly shocked her. You looked completely different from how you did in class—more animated, more alive, like you were in your element. And when you started that long, impressive tumbling pass down the court, her jaw dropped. She didn’t even know you could do that, and it left her staring, heart hammering in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. (And maybe the tiny little uniform helped speed it up, too.)

From then on, Paige couldn’t keep her eyes off you during games. She’d always find herself watching you, wondering if you’d somehow feel her gaze, hoping that maybe, just once, you’d look her way. She spent so many games like that—sneaking glances, letting her mind wander, imagining what it might be like to finally work up the nerve to talk to you. But game after game, you never seemed to notice her, too focused on your routines, your teammates, and the cheering crowd around you.

And Paige? She knew she was hopelessly stuck. She’d sit there on the sidelines, feeling ridiculous, pining after a girl she couldn’t even talk to, a girl she thought she’d never really have a chance with. It was her worst crush yet—the kind that left her feeling off-balance, stumbling over her own thoughts, trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter—and she’d never even spoken to you. But each time she saw you out there, smiling, moving with that same effortless grace, she’d feel that same pull, that same quiet, persistent ache.

It’s senior year now, and Paige has one thing on her mind: basketball. It’s been more than a year since she’s played, and she’s determined to make this season count. All summer, she told herself the same thing over and over: Stay focused. Don’t get distracted. No more drifting thoughts, no more daydreams, and absolutely no more pointless crushes on girls she can’t have. And especially no crushes on you.

You, the cheerleader she’d spent too many junior year games staring at from the sidelines. You, the girl she still thought about when her mind wandered late at night, even though she knew better. No, this year, she was locking in. She’d worked too hard, too long, to let her head get all twisted up over you again. She was here to play basketball, not to chase after some unattainable crush.

But as she jogs onto the court for warm-ups, trying to ignore the butterflies that come with her first game back, her eyes somehow find you anyway. Just like they always do. And it’s like no time has passed at all. You’re laughing with the other cheerleaders, your hair perfectly styled in a half-up-half-down, a bow nestled in it, your uniform hugging you just right. The lights catch on your skin, giving you this soft glow, and your smile—God, that smile, so open and sweet and painfully distracting—has her heart skipping a beat before she even realizes it. Paige quickly snaps her eyes away, reminding herself she’s here to play, not to get lost in some imaginary world where she has a chance with you. This is her first game back, and even if it’s just an exhibition against Dayton, she’s got to make it count.

With a deep breath, she manages to brush you off. The pregame excitement kicks in, and her focus sharpens as the game begins. And it’s everything she’s been waiting for—the sounds of the court, the rush of the crowd, the thrill of moving with the ball in her hands again. She’s finally back, and for the first quarter, she’s locked in, feeling the rhythm of the game, feeling unstoppable.

Then it happens. KK makes a bad pass, and Paige is already in motion, chasing down the ball to save it from going out of bounds. She dives, stretching to reach it, but it’s just out of reach. Before she can stop herself, she’s crashing full speed into the sidelines—right into the cheerleaders.

Right into you.

The impact is quick and jarring, and she scrambles to her feet as fast as she can, heart hammering in her chest. She’s prepared to rattle off an apology when she realizes who she’s just barreled into. You’re significantly smaller than her, and her stomach drops as she takes in your wide eyes and the faint wince that flickers across your face. But you handle it with the same grace she’d always admired from afar, waving her off with a laugh and saying, “It’s fine! You’re good!” Your smile is easy, casual, and she’s even more mortified by how sweet you’re being about it.

She tries to apologize again, but you’re already brushing it off with that smile, and she feels her face heating up as she mumbles something unintelligible before hurrying back onto the court. But now her head’s a mess, all her carefully built-up focus gone, replaced by the embarrassing replay of what just happened. She tells herself to get it together, but it’s no use. Her mind keeps drifting back to the look on your face, to the sound of your laugh, to the softness in your smile when you waved her off.

The rest of the game passes in a frustrating blur. She’s off her rhythm, missing open shots she’d normally sink with ease, getting caught in rotations she usually anticipates. By the end, she’s only scored eight points—a painfully low number, especially for her—and she feels the weight of it like a stone in her stomach. She should be thinking about the game, her missed shots, how to get her focus back. But as she sits on the bench, watching the last few minutes tick away, all she can think about is you standing there, laughing off her clumsy collision, looking up at her with that easy, unbothered smile.

So much for not getting distracted.

After the game, Paige is still kicking herself over how sloppy her performance was. She lingers in the locker room, hoping to avoid any unwanted run-ins. But finally, when she’s convinced she’s given it enough time for everyone to clear out, she heads out into the quiet halls of Gampel Pavilion.

Except, of course, her luck isn’t that great. Just as she’s walking out, she spots you—still in your cheer uniform but with a UConn sweatshirt thrown over it, heading down the hall, cheer bag on your back. Her first instinct is to turn around, bolt back into the locker room, and hope to avoid any more humiliation, but it’s already too late. You look up, and your eyes meet, and suddenly she’s frozen in place, panicking because she’s actually staring straight into your eyes.

And then you smile at her. That smile, the one that sends her brain into a meltdown every time. But it’s so much worse now because your smile is directed at her. And, suddenly, you’re walking up to her and saying, “Hey, good game tonight,” and Paige is pretty sure her heart has stopped.

She tries to seem casual, to play it cool, but all she can manage is a shrug and a half-hearted, “Eh, wasn’t my best.” She’s hoping you don’t notice her stutter, but her cheeks are burning, giving her away.

You just wave it off, your dimple showing as you grin up at her. “Nah, this was just your warm-up. You haven’t played in, like, over a year. Next game you’ll drop thirty.”

Paige blinks, and the fact that you know she’s good at basketball—even though everyone knows she’s good at basketball—is enough to send her into a coma, she thinks. “Oh, gosh,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck, struggling to find words. “Gonna have to now, just for you.” The second it’s out of her mouth, she mentally facepalms. That totally sounds like she’s trying to flirt with you.

But you just laugh, eyes crinkling as you look at her, completely unfazed. “I’ll hold you to it,” you say, and that smile doesn’t waver.

There’s a pause, and Paige knows this is where you’re about to say goodbye, and she panics because, after two years of thinking and practically obsessing over you, she’s finally talking to you, and it feels too short, too fleeting. Before she can second-guess herself, she blurts, “Oh—uh, hey, about earlier… when I ran into you. I’m… really sorry about that.”

You shake your head, smiling even wider, brushing it off with an easy laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time; more than you’d think.”

There’s something so casual and warm about the way you say it, and she feels herself relax a little, caught up in the fact that you’re looking right at her, not at all bothered, almost… endeared? And for some reason, seeing your dimpled smile has her stammering like she’s never done before.

“So… uh…” Paige stumbles, her words failing, her confidence gone. “Are you, um, going to Ted’s tonight?” She bites her lip the moment it’s out, but she presses on. “You know, a lot of people go there after the first game—it’s kinda, like, a…thing. Which, y’know, I guess you probably already know about because… you’re, like, not a freshman…” She sounds so stupid. God.

You tilt your head slightly, considering, before you smile at her again. “I wasn’t really planning on going, but…” You pause, looking at her with a bit of a spark in your eyes, and for a second, she feels like she might actually combust. “Should I?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and she’s nodding before she can stop herself. “Y-yes! I—I think you’d have a good time.” She mentally scolds herself for the stutter, but you’re just nodding, still smiling, still looking so effortlessly at ease while she’s a nervous mess.

You laugh softly, a sound she’s sure she’ll replay in her head all night, and say, “Alright. I’ll think about it. And if I do decide to go, I’ll see you there, Bueckers.”

And with one last smile, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there in shock, her heart racing and her mind replaying every word you just said. She’s tempted to pinch herself, convinced this has to be some elaborate daydream because there’s no way she actually just talked to you.

She doesn’t move for a long moment, replaying the way you said her name, the sound of your laugh, and the chance that she might actually see you tonight.

IT’S LATER in the night at Ted’s, and Paige is doing her best to stay composed, talking with one of the guys from the men’s team. Dirty Shirley in hand, she’s feeling just the faintest buzz, not enough to loosen her grip on reality but just enough to feel the edges of her confidence soften. She’s nodding along to something the guy’s saying when, over his shoulder, she spots you walking in.

Paige’s attention falters as she takes you in. You’re in baggy jeans that hang low on your hips, and a leather tube top that clings in all the right places, dipping enough to make her gaze lower slightly. She can barely tear her gaze away as you head over to the bar with a couple of friends, both of whom Paige recognizes from the cheer team. You’re laughing, leaning into one of them, completely at ease, and she can’t stop watching.

She realizes she’s staring a little too long, so she quickly excuses herself, not to talk to you—God, no, she can’t even think straight around you—but to hide by her teammates before she does something stupid. Her teammates notice her the moment she approaches, grinning as they watch her flustered expression.

“You see who just walked in, P?” Azzi teases, nudging her.

Paige groans, cheeks burning. “Don’t start.”

But they’re all laughing, and Ice is elbowing KK with a smirk. Nika, who’s been listening with a barely disguised grin, rolls her eyes. “Okay, this is ridiculous. You’ve had a crush on this girl since, like, forever. Go talk to her.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t. She’s—” Paige doesn’t even finish the sentence, glancing over her shoulder just in time to see you at the bar, waiting for your drink. She’d be lying if she said her confidence hadn’t evaporated the moment you walked in, looking like that.

“Girl boo,” KK sighs dramatically, before grabbing Paige’s wrist and dragging her toward the bar. Paige stumbles after her, mumbling weak protests, but KK is determined, practically hauling her across the crowded floor until they’re standing right next to you. KK orders a Sprite, leaning casually on the bar and glancing over at you with a grin. “Hey, girly pop! You cheer, right?”

You smile, looking more at Paige than at KK, and Paige’s heart thuds against her ribs. “Yeah, I do,” you say, introducing yourself and holding out a hand to KK, but your gaze flickers right back to Paige, who’s half-hiding behind her friend, cheeks pink and looking slightly caught. “Hi, Paige.”

Paige’s voice comes out a little sheepish. “Hey.”

KK smirks, clearly satisfied, and gives Paige a quick wink before excusing herself, leaving Paige standing there alone with you.

There’s a beat of awkward silence as Paige shifts on her feet, trying to keep herself from looking like an idiot, which is hard considering how aware she is of every single thing about you—your posture, your smile, the way you’re leaning in just close enough that she can catch a faint hint of your perfume.

“So,” Paige says, trying for casual. “You glad you came?”

You tilt your head, your lips quirking up. “Hmm, not sure yet. I’m not too impressed so far.”

She nods, stifling a wince, feeling more awkward than she can ever remember. And yet, her mind’s racing, urging her to just go for it, because this is her moment. She’s Paige Bueckers—she’s supposed to be confident. She always is. Besides, if you’re not interested, at least she’ll know. And if you are…

She hesitates, then swallows, trying to keep her voice steady as she says, “Um… can I buy you a drink?”

There’s a flicker of something in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe surprise—and she’s mentally bracing herself for you to say no when you glance at the bar and say, “Actually, I just ordered one.” Her heart sinks a little, but she forces a smile, trying to play it off. Of course you’re not interested; she should have known better—

Then you’re leaning closer, nudging her elbow with yours, and you smirk, your voice soft and playful. “But you can buy my next one, if you want.”

Paige’s brain short-circuits as your words settle in, her mouth going dry as she realizes what you just said. “Uh, y-yeah, totally,” she manages, trying to keep from looking as giddy as she feels. “I…I’d love to.”

Your smirk turns into a grin, and you’re looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. She’s trying to come up with something smooth to say when, suddenly, one of your friends pops ups beside you and Paige, tugging on your arm, pulling you off the barstool and towards the crowd with a teasing, “Come on!”

Paige opens her mouth to protest, but before she knows it, you’re being swallowed up into the throng of people—not before you send her a quick, apologetic look over your shoulder, your friend still dragging you. Paige frowns, a little disappointed, but quickly catches herself. It’s fine, she thinks, though a twinge of regret lingers. She pushes it aside, grabbing her drink from the bar and returning back to her table, telling herself to focus on celebrating. She’s finally back on the court, and after such a long, difficult recovery, tonight is meant to be about unwinding. So she does, letting her team hype her up as they cheer and clink their drinks in her honor, pulling her deeper into the night.

As the time passes, Paige’s frustration eases, replaced by a warm buzz that dulls everything except the elation of being surrounded by her friends. But even as she sips her drink, she can’t help but think about where you’ve disappeared to, if you’re still here, still laughing with your friends somewhere across the bar. She finds herself scanning the crowd more than once, looking for a glimpse of you. She tries to push it down, laugh it off with another round, but every time she looks around, her gaze seems to search for you.

Eventually, the heat of the crowded bar gets to her. She feels flushed, dizzy from the alcohol and the mass of people, so she slips out the back door for some air. The cool breeze hits her face, and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing as the sounds of the bar fade behind her. She barely has a moment to herself before she notices a figure sitting just a few feet away.

It’s you, sitting on the curb, looking down at your hands as if lost in thought. Paige blinks, unsure if she’s seeing things. But then you look up at the sound of the door closing and smile, that familiar, gentle smile that makes her heart stutter. You seem just as surprised to see her, but your expression softens, like you’re genuinely happy she’s there. And that’s all the encouragement Paige needs.

“You care if I join?” she asks, trying to sound casual, even though her heart’s racing.

“Not at all,” you reply, and she takes a seat beside you, a bit closer than she planned. She feels your warmth even in the night air, and it makes her head spin in a way she can’t blame on the alcohol.

There’s a pause, a comfortable silence stretching between you. Paige watches as you draw patterns in the gravel with your fingers, the lights from the bar casting a soft glow over your face. She swallows, summoning up the nerve to say something—anything that might keep you sitting here with her.

“Why you out here?” she starts, genuinely curious.

You shrug, glancing back toward the bar. “Got a little claustrophobic in there,” you say, voice soft.

“Yeah… me too,” Paige nods, grateful for the fresh air and this quiet moment with you. The silence returns, but this time, it’s charged, heavy with something she can’t quite put into words.

Finally, Paige finds her voice again, her words slipping out before she can think them over. “You’re a good cheerleader, y’know. You do all those flips and shit—it’s impressive.”

You let out a small laugh, looking away for a second as if flattered. Paige is almost certain she sees a faint blush on your cheeks, and the sight makes her smile a little, lips curving upward. “Didn’t know you really paid attention to the cheerleaders,” you respond, teasing.

Paige scoffs, shrugging as if it isn’t a big deal, even though she feels like she’s been caught in some sort of confession—which, she kinda has. “Well, I did sit out for a year, so… I had to find something to watch.”

You tilt your head, smirking as you ask, “So you chose to watch me?”

Paige’s cheeks warm, and she silently thanks the alcohol for the courage that lets her meet your gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs, watching as you look away, biting your lip as if trying to hide a smile. The sight makes her heart skip in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

After a moment, Paige adds, “I think we… had a class together, couple years ago?”

You nod, eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, we did. Sociology, right?” you reaffirm, nodding in tandem with her. “’M surprised you remember that—you always seemed so disinterested.”

Paige nearly blanches, genuinely surprised you’d noticed her too. She didn’t think you’d have remembered her, much less noticed her back then. The notion gives her some of her usual confidence beck and she manages a chuckle, shaking her head and tilting it slightly toward you as she murmurs, “Ah, so you were watching me too, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you as you nudge her shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter, but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed.

There’s another pause, the two of you sitting side by side in the quiet, both of you lingering on the edge of something unsaid. Finally, you break the silence, voice soft and hesitant. “How come you never said anything before?”

Paige swallows, the question catching her off guard. She doesn’t know how to answer without giving herself away, without admitting the way her stomach twists every time she sees you around campus. So instead, she asks, turning the question back on you, “How come you never did?”

You don’t seem to mind that she didn’t really give you an answer. Instead, you just shrug, looking down at your hands. “I don’t know… you make me kinda nervous.”

The confession makes Paige’s heart alight, feeling like it’s on fire and might spread throughout her whole body. She’s used to people being in awe of her for basketball, for her skills on the court. But hearing you say that you feel that way too, like she’s someone more than just her reputation, shakes her. Besides, you’ve always seemed so incredibly at ease around her, never even bothering to look her way. So, almost incredulously, she asks, “Why?”

You scoff, looking at her like she’s missing something obvious. “Um, because you’re Paige Bueckers. Basketball prodigy, campus celebrity.” You raise your eyebrows at her. “I think most people would be.”

Paige feels a rush of warmth at your words, the way you say her name like it means something special. She searches your face, feeling the air grow thick around you, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name. And maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, maybe it’s the way you’re looking at her like she’s somehow both intimidating and endearing at the same time, but she’s feeling bold. Bold enough to keep this conversation going, to see where this moment might lead.

She clears her throat, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Well, if it helps… you make me nervous.”

You laugh, a little breathless, clearly surprised. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” Paige insists. “You ain’t see the way I stuttered around you earlier? Ion know, ma, you just kinda fuck with my head.”

She watches, grin widening, as you blush at her words, the color blooming across your cheeks. It’s addictive, seeing you react like that—because of her. She doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when you ask, gaze set out in front of you instead of on her, “Why would I fuck with your head?”

It’s a good question, one Paige asked herself for a long time. It never took her long to figure out the answer. Though, she’s a little nervous to explain herself.

And she gets even more nervous when your gaze slides back onto hers, your head turning towards her. Paige’s smile falters, just slightly, at the eye contact. It’s intense, the kind that feels like it’s holding the world still for a second. Paige’s heart is a drum in her chest, each beat vibrating through her veins. Her eyes slide across your face, your features, tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the faint shimmer glitter swiped along your eyelids. She catalogues every detail as if she’s never going to get this close again—a very real possibility if she doesn’t up her game.

Finally, she leans in—just slightly—her voice low and steady as she answers you. “You got this positive energy that makes you just… stand out in front of a crowd. Big smile. Bright eyes. Mm, I just… like seeing that in people.”

The words settle in the space between you, warm and lingering. Paige hesitates, letting them wrap around you both before adding, her voice dipping lower, her boldness shooting upward, “And it doesn’t help that you’re too beautiful for your own good.”

You blush deeper this time, cheeks tinted more red than pink, and it makes Paige’s heart skip. She can’t help the way her lips twitch into a grin. She’s waited so long to see this—see you flustered because of her. It’s everything she imagined and more.

“Stop,” you protest, fighting a smile as you push at her hands, your tone not carrying any weight behind the word. Paige just laughs, soft and easy, catching your hand in hers before you can pull away. She lifts it slightly, letting her thumb brush over your knuckles as she murmurs, “Nah, really.”

It’s then that the air changes—shifting into something heavier. The space between the two of you is practically nonexistent at this point, your sides tucked right into each other. You’re staring at one another, and Paige can’t help it when her gaze flickers down to your lips, just for a second. But it turns out to be enough. Because then she sees your eyes dart to her mouth in return, lingering there. And that’s when Paige knows.

Still holding your hand, she locks her gaze on yours, her voice firm but soft when she repeats, “Really.”

It’s like that word unlocks something between you because suddenly you’re leaning in, and Paige is doing the same, her breath catching the moment your lips touch hers. It’s soft, tentative at first, like neither of you are quite sure if this is real. But then you press into her just slightly, and Paige swears the whole world tilts on its axis.

The kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, and Paige feels her whole body light up. Your lips are warm, soft, and you taste faintly of tequila and strawberry chapstick. It’s intoxicating, the way you move against her, gentle but with enough purpose to make her head spin. Paige’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

Your fingers grab at her bicep, holding on like you don’t want to let go, and it sends a thrill through her. Paige’s lips part slightly, and when you follow, letting her slip her tongue into your mouth, it’s like a fire ignites somewhere deep inside her. The kiss isn’t frantic or messy—it’s unhurried, like the two of you have all the time in the world to explore this. She can feel the heat of your skin where her hand cups your face, and she wants to memorize every second, every sensation.

The way you tilt your head just a little, giving her more access, nearly undoes her. Paige tilts her own in response, deepening the kiss further, her fingers slipping from your jaw to the back of your neck. The touch is light, almost reverent, but the closeness makes her heart race.

Your other hand moves, grazing against her side before resting lightly on her hip. Paige’s stomach flips at the contact, her body leaning instinctively closer to yours. She swears she can feel the warmth of your breath between kisses, the subtle hitch when she nips at your bottom lip.

It’s slow, it’s sweet, but it’s intoxicating. Paige swears she’s never kissed anyone like this before, never felt this much just from simple lip-locking. When you pull back slightly—not breaking the kiss entirely, just catching your breath—she can’t help herself. She follows you instinctively, her mouth chasing yours in a way that feels both vulnerable and utterly fearless. You allow her to, tongues half entwined between your swollen lips.

When you finally part, Paige keeps close, her forehead gently pressing against yours, her hand still cradling your neck. Neither of you moves far, the space between you so small your breaths still mingle, soft and warm against each other’s lips. Paige’s eyes flutter open, but she doesn’t look away from you, her gaze locked on yours like you’re the only thing in the world that matters—which, right now, you might as well be.

Her voice comes out lower than she intends, husky and laced with something she can’t quite hide as she murmurs, “You gonna let me buy you that drink now?”

Your lips curve into a slow, easy grin, and Paige feels her chest tighten, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of it. You’re so close she can see the faint glimmer of mischief in your eyes, the way they soften as you look at her.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice soft but sure, “I’d like that.”

The way you say it, the way your smile widens just slightly after, makes Paige’s heart race all over again. She can’t help the small, satisfied smile that spreads across her face. Paige leans back just enough to take in the sight of you—your flushed cheeks, the way your hair’s slightly mussed, and that lingering, breathtaking smile she knows will haunt her in the best way.

“Good,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing your jaw lightly one last time before she pulls away completely, standing up and offering you her hand. When you take it, she holds on a little longer than necessary, leading you back into the bar, already planning how she’s going to keep you smiling for the rest of the night—and, hopefully, much longer afterwards.

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: News Crashing

Poly!TaskForce 141 x Omega!Reader

The Omega Pack Plan Masterlist

Summary: A change in procedure around base causes you to spiral as your world comes crashing down. There's only one way out of this and it starts with telling the truth.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Existentialism, Misogyny, Dismissive Attitudes, Angst, Rage

Mentions of: Medication,

A/N: Honestly, I'd been inspired by a few series (Standard Emergency Protocol and Pantry Solutions) I've read those and it caused me to want to write my own A/B/O COD AU, so I started this as a sort of funny fic awhile ago. I'm haven't entirely plotted out the whole story, but I have some ideas for the first few chapters. I was finally inspired to finish and post it because @cringeycookies liked the snippet I posted in a wip tag game. So thanks to everyone who inspired me, and a special thank you to @penelopepine for helping me with the dialogue and Price's reaction as I try to begin writing for them.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the nurse responds, "we're no longer authorized to refill suppressants of any kinds for any purpose." With a push of the empty orange pill bottle back across the counter in your direction, she offers you an ugly forced smile.

"Is there really nothing we can do?!" You complain incredulously, "Nothing at all? What am I supposed to do with this?!" Taking the emptied bottle into your hands, you stare at the nurse with widened eyes and a wild look.

"There is no 'we'..." she rolls her eyes in response, focus returning to the papers before her. "But if you insist, you can always bring it up with your CO, or the Base Commander." She scribbles something out on the page, but you can hardly focus when your world is virtually crumbling apart around you. "Now if you don't mind, some of us actually have work to do around here."

Still stunned, you can't help the way your breathing picks up as your heart begins to race. About a month ago now there was a base-wide meeting where they'd finally cracked down and implemented a new program the government is trying out: OPP. The Omega Pack Plan. While it's uncommon for Omegas to even be recruited into the military to begin with, such a thing does exist. Regardless, the Base Commander gathered everyone in the Auditorium for a presentation to talk about the new program and how the army would implement it into the troops. Luckily, considering you're on an elite Task Force, it doesn't apply to you. At least... it didn't.

"What the hell is this?!" You yell, tossing the orange bottle in his direction.

He'd heard the stomps all the way down the hall and smelled you coming, so he's neither surprised by your appearance, nor startled by the toss of the bottle. John swiftly catches it in his hand as he looks up at you. "What?" He inquires, finally glancing down to examine what he's caught. "A pill bottle?"

"Captain, it's empty! They won't refill it- I can-"

A groan tumbles past his lips as he drags a hand down his beard. "Look, Panther-" referring to you by your callsign, interesting move. "There's nothing I can do, it's over my head now. I wish I could do something, but I can't." Sitting back in his leather chair, Price places the bottle on the desk; a faint rap of the plastic hitting the wood is the only sound between you momentarily before you hurriedly shut the door.

Panic begins to flood your system as you're not sure how to handle this. It's your turn to freak out. You know how this goes, you know the story now; ever since they'd implemented and dispersed the Omegas into the troops, they'd started implementing them into the Task Forces, and now they have to do so with the One Four One. Fingers curling in and out of shapes as you try to process your next move, you speak before you can even begin to plan what you're going to tell him.

"I- I'm- I..." You're pacing his office now, the heavy gaze of your Captain upon you as you try to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. The thing is, you're usually good with pressure- really good. It's your job to be good. It's just... this is different. This is your life, your livelihood at stake, the livelihood of all your future generations to come.

A sigh resounds throughout the office before you hear the low timbre of his voice. "Dove," he calls out with a gentle tone, "I want you to take a deep breath for me. Alright?" With the calm and even sound of your Captain's voice and the assured look on his face, you comply. Exhaling the last of your breath, you close your eyes and focus in on the deep intake of air through your nose. With the parting of your lips you slowly release it before giving yourself a moment.

When you open your eyes he gestures to the seat before his desk, though you know he won't take offense if you decline. Hesitant, one hand finds its way to the other, wrapping around your arm as you listen to him speak. "Now, can you explain what has you in this state? I assure you that there's nothing that can't be dealt with." You want to trust him, you know him--John Price--your Captain. He's always had your back, always made sure you felt comfortable in the Taskforce, always made an effort to check on you after things got rough.

You nod. Licking your lips, you search his blue eyes as you tentatively take the seat across him.

"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, alright? I can guarantee you that unless you're trying to tell me you're an Omega, nothing you say is going to shock me that warrants the amount of panic you're putting yourself through," Price chuckles. He's obviously joking, trying to break the tension with humor. Lips drawn upward into a small smile, the Captain stares at you expectantly.

"What if I am?" You whisper, eyes unable to tear from his visage as you try and gauge his reaction. Unexpectedly, silence fills the space between you and feels deafening in the small space. The growing comfort of his office these couple of months now feels like a cage you're forced to stay in, under watch, as you stare down your superior on the brink of a battle to the death. And that's what you do. His blue eyes bore into yours, skeptically shifting between your left and right as he seems to try and get a read on you.

All of the sudden you jump at the smack of his hands hitting the desk in front of him. He laughs at you.

He's laughing at you.

And you're sitting there with your guts spilled out, dread eating away at the pit in your stomach... and he's laughing. It feels like forever is passing you by as you stare at him in shock, this moment between the two of you frozen in time as nothing else persists.

"I understand what this was now," Price explains, still chuckling to himself as he shakes his head. There's a warm smile on his face that feels eerie considering the dire context of the situation at hand. "You got me! I fully believed you for a second there, too."

Eyebrows furrowing in dark realization, you can't help but stare at him wildly. "Wha-" You begin to question him and his line of thinking, but he cuts you off.

"This was all a prank, right? The bottle, the hysterics- you really outdid yourself, Sergeant." Leaning back in his chair, he props his ankle up on his other knee. "Because let me tell you, this was good. Better than anything Soap's cooked up in awhile. Did you come up with it yourself?" There's a cheeky grin on his lips. "Ah, I know you did."

Lips opening and closing like a fish out of water, you sit in the armchair across from him pale with a dazed look across your face. He doesn't actually think that this was...

"Well, with your little triumph in your pocket, I say we get back to work, yeah? I've got some new leads from MI6 that've just popped in." With that, the man stands from his desk and rounds it. "Garrick should be back around Tea. I'll see you in the Command Station then," he informs you. It's then that he passes by, a genial clap on your shoulder while he's at it.

Left stunned in silence, you can't help but grit your teeth, consequentially pronouncing your jaw as anger ebbs through your bloodstream. Breath getting heavier, you can't help but loathe the meeting tonight. Your Captain might be satisfied with the conversation, but all you feel is discouraged. He's abandoned you, left you alone in his office with a humiliating sense of betrayal and shattered trust. Almost like you hadn't just told him your biggest secret at all.

Punching the standard heavy punching bag hanging in front of you, you grunt, ignoring the pain that gnaws at your knuckles underneath the reusable hand wraps. Sweat builds on your brow as you continue to unleash your pent up anger on the gym’s equipment. How could he?! When had you ever pulled anything even similar to this? Never! And the fact that you’ve only been on the team for a handful of months only exacerbates the abandonment you’re feeling right now. He’s your Captain! Regardless of your feelings or the situation at hand, isn’t he supposed to be there for you? He’d promised from the get go to help you with whatever you need, and now the one time you go to him for aid it backfires in your face and leaves you without any sort of solution going forward aside from straight up telling the whole team the flat out truth, and God forbid! You can’t even begin to fathom how that’d go.

A pent up and frustrated yell almost akin to something of a growl emanates from you as you tear into another round of swift jabs and punches. Regardless of the situation at hand, you’ve been trying to build up your upper body’s strength and letting out the anger you’d accumulated over this morning’s events seemed like a perfect opportunity to let loose.

The stretches and treadmill routine didn’t take a lot out of you, but the weights, and now the punching bag definitely is starting to take its toll. Sweat beads at your forehead in rivulets that drip down the sides of your neck, down your scalp past your neck and between your shoulder blades. Tank top soaked in sweat, you breathe hard as your heart pumps rapidly in your chest. You would’ve wound up here at some point or another tonight, but the Captain’s discourteous response certainly led to an earlier workout time.

While others sparsely litter the gym’s floor, you pay them no mind and vice versa. It’s not uncommon for soldiers to be found blowing off steam or aiming to beat their highest reps on the weights. Yet, this gym is reserved for higher standing members of the Force, the gym on the far side of the base where there are less people, offices, and considering the regular army men train in the bigger gym closer to their quarters, it’s mostly other higher ranked officers in here.

“Captain’s lookin’ for ya,” Markowski, another Sergeant that you’d come to befriend on base announces from the doorway, having poked his head in after leaving a few minutes earlier. He belongs to a different Task Force.

A groan tumbles out of you as you realize it’s already that time. Just as the door clicks shut, your phone chimes loudly with the alarm you’d set earlier going off. A few quick swipes of your fingers, you turn the alarm off and unlock the device, seeing a number of messages flood your notifications.

Kyle: You hear they’ve bumped up the timeline? 😯

Johnny: “ https://Tiktok/Shattered.Rat567 ” Had me rollin’ 🤣👏🏻 Gotta check it, Bonnie

Simon: You coming to the meeting or not? 🤨

Johnny: Where r u? You’re usually first here 👀 Cap’s getting peeved, watch out

Not looking forward to the inevitable mess of a meeting before you, you don’t bother rushing to join the men. With a wash of your face in the women’s locker room, a speedy bathroom break, and a grab of the items you’d brought with you, you’re heading for the Command Station.

With the time Price set the meeting, you won't get to eat dinner till afterward. You'd be lying if you said you weren't annoyed by this entire situation, your agitation from neglecting your hunger earlier has certainly come to bite you in the backside.

While you don’t have time to respond to their texts, having set the alarm with only enough time to get back to your team’s Command ‘station’ albeit more like your headquarters before heading out. Speed-walking through the orderly halls with a haste perfectly common around here, you navigate with a well practiced knowledge. Though you’ve only been here coming up on six months soon, you’re well acquainted with this part of the base.

Rounding the corner, you’re in the hall, close. Yet, the worry of being late lingers in the back of your mind and adds another layer of annoyance on top of your residual anger buried deep down from this morning’s situation. You’d inevitably come up with your solution. It’s not one you like… but it’s the only logical option. Another turn and you’re striding into the big garage-like room.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Sergeant,” Price calls out to you. Lifting his eyes from the map laid out across your station's table, he glares in your direction.

“What took you so long?” Soap snaps, his brows slightly furrowed as he stares at you from the opposite side of the table, hands lazily wrapped around his vest’s straps.

A look at your watch tells you that you’re not even late, the meeting doesn’t officially start for another minute! But you are usually waiting on them. He’s got you there.

“Yeah, you’re usually the first one here. It’s not like you,” Gaz whispers under his breath as you sidle up alongside Ghost, Gaz standing diagonal to you right beside Price at the head of the table.

“Focus,” Ghost orders the men, his hands tucked in his hoodie’s pocket. You don’t fail to notice the way he subtly takes a step further away from you as soon as they start talking again. Price goes back to talking plans as Gaz is questioning the circumstances of the information the Captain had acquired earlier when he’d had to leave the office.

“Which is exactly why-”

A heavy exhale on your behalf leaves the men frozen as their eyes drift back to you. “Do you have something you’d like to say, Panther?” The Captain questions. Jaw clenched, you tear your eyes from the map they’d settled on.

“We’ve got a big problem,” you announce, cutting off the Captain as you finally raise your gaze to meet Price’s slightly widened blue eyes.

“Well, if you see something that needs changin’ then let’s hear it,” he responds. A ‘hmph’ follows as he crosses his arms over his chest and sits his weight back onto his heels.

“It’s not about the op,” you correct him. Tilting your head side to side you attempt to crack the kinks in your neck while standing a little straighter to appear more engaged and serious.

“And it’s more important than this? What we’re doin’ right now?” Soap questions, his hands dropping to rest on the table as he looms over it, eyeing you with frustration obvious in his irises.

“What is it?” Gaz asks, a quirk of his eyebrow garnering your attention for a split-second. He’s genuinely asking, and there doesn’t seem to be a hostility in his scent as he turns his attention to you. Then there’s Ghost, who you don’t even need to look at to feel his heavy gaze on you, waiting expectantly.

“Actually, it is,” you argue with Soap, anger beginning to boil in your belly, the frustration and angst having been left to simmer all afternoon. “I can’t believe you didn’t take me seriously when I came to you earlier,” you turn your anger on Price. He looks taken aback by the outburst, something you’re not known for.

“Dove,” he calls calmly, hands out in an attempt to pacify.

“Don’t-” you bark, starting to raise your voice without realizing it. “I came to you in confidance! Trusting you when you said you’d be there to help me if I ever needed it! How could you?” Gritting your teeth, you don’t realize how hard you’re breathing as your chest heaves with anger.

“Woah, woah-” Gaz sputters, “What-” holding his hands out to try and diffuse the argument.

“I let myself be vulnerable-” You continue to shout.

“Isn’t this something that shoul-” Soap attempts to dissuade, backing down as he puts his hands out.

“-and tell you the truth, and-” you’re lunging for him across the table. You’re held back by a massive hand on your shoulder. “You laugh in my face?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You're suddenly pulled back, off your feet, and shoved into a metal chair that'd been nearby. Your Lieutenant is hovering over you, his cold eyes now tinged with a spark of anger as they bore into you scrutinizingly. There's the sound of commotion behind him, multiple voices overlapping, yet you can't see anything with that utter giant in front of you!

“Does anyone wanna explain what the bloody hell is goin’ on here?” Ghost snaps. It's only then when the man steps aside that you can see where everyone is. With both of you in your respective corners, you simply glare at the Captain from over your crossed arms out in front of you.

“Are you bleedin’ kidding me, ya Scally?” Price grunts as he shrugs Gaz’ hand off his shoulder. “You’re still on about it! When w-"

"That doesn't explain what happened, Cap," Gaz interrupts, stopping him from going off and getting them nowhere.

He groans, running a hand over his face once more before composing himself. Everyone waits for an explanation—you too—he’d been the first to speak, and you’re curious to hear what he comes up with. “She came into my office, bloody cryin’, tossing me a pill bottle, muttering about, saying she’s a-”

You don’t dare let him finish, not wanting him to be the one to finally say it, exposing your truth to the team. "Omega. I’m an Omega, ” you finish his sentence. While you’re scared to meet their faces, you take a deep breath and force yourself to do so.

"Christ," Price curses, fingers coming up to pinch the skin between his brows as he hangs his head.

Ghost's stoicism is nothing unordinary, and in fact, is somewhat a comfort considering you'd expected nothing less from him.

Gaz looks stunned for a moment, eyes flitting about the other’s faces before the serious look on his face morphs. Lips slowly drawing upward, you shouldn’t be surprised when he starts laughing. "Yeah right," Garrick teases, "and I'm actually the Prime Minister."

Yet, it's not just him. The uproarious laughter from your right only adds fuel to the already burning flame as the two other Sergeants laugh like idiots. All as if it's some poor joke with no consequences to anyone's life, and yet... it's the truth. At the end of the day, it doesn't change anything. At the end of the day, your life is still in jeopardy and they're treating it like some joke. Unable to form any sort of retort, you simply blink; stuck in a stupor raw, stung, and with a dumb look on your face.

Soap, rounding the table slaps Gaz on the back, his face flushed red from laughing so hard. "Yer makin' my stomach hurt. God," he eggs the other on between his dying chuckles and attempting to catch his breath.

"You're really just gonna stand there and laugh?!" You finally burst. Anger surely must be coming off your scent in waves, but you don't care. Standing from the chair, you don't flinch as Ghost swipes his arm out in front of you in case you were going for the Captain again. There will be no physical altercation on his watch.

"She already pulled this on me earlier, mind you, and now what? You're trying to pull it over on the lads' too, eh?" Price goads you.

"And I was telling the truth! You're the one who said I was joking," you point out. The volume of your voice is lost on you, partially blinded by the fury bleeding out.

"I suppose you never did admit to it being a prank," Price reasons, fingers grazing his beard as he runs them over it repeatedly in thought. "But how do you expect us to believe that when you clearly smell of a Beta?"

"Even on the battlefield, after everything we've been through-" Gaz starts.

"After yer all sweaty from a workout, too. I think we'd notice, Pan," Johnny argues, illuminating a legitimate point of consideration.

"Oh please," you mutter quietly to yourself. Shaking your head, you can't believe they're really all being this daft right now. "Like you have heard of those Scent Spritzers.”

There are various perfumes on the market specifically designed to alter one’s scent. Most use it smell like an Alpha when they’re not, or an Omega when they’re wanting to seduce an Alpha when going out. But Omegas posing as Betas was rarely heard of. You’re more than sure it happens more frequently than people know of, they just haven’t been caught. And in your line of work? It’s scarce. People are thoroughly vetted, but… you’d been on suppressants for a long, long time. And a Beta perfume only perfected your hiding.

“Did you forget we’re Alphas, love? We’d be able to smell you across the room if you were,” Gaz taunts. There’s a puff of his chest that makes his cockiness even more annoying than usual.

"You really want to be an Omega? Dumb yourself down to some weak fragile thing?” Johnny jokes, nudging Gaz’ arm as he shakes his head.

“A doll who can get whoever she wants? Want to be nothing more than good for knockin' up and popping out pups?” Gaz adds on.

“Are you serious right now?” You test, seething under your skin as your hands ball up into fists. “How could you say that?!”

“It’s what people say,” Ghost comments.

“Nobody would want that and you’re out here lying about it,” Johnny pokes.

“We’re only trying to point out the flaws in your little rouse, Pan,” Gaz says, a smile lighting up his features as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"And what if I was lying, hm? Would that change anything you just said to me? How you feel about Omegas?" You scoff.

“This isn’t about your designation,” Price finally speaks. Fingers still weaved into his beard, his blue eyes lift to meet yours. “I see what this is about now, but there's nothin' to worry about, Dove.” Your Captain takes on a softer tone and all of the sudden you feel yourself start to get emotional as a twinge of sadness, of the hurt bleeding through upon understanding makes you feel seen.

“I know it's intimidating, the thought of having your first unmedicated heat, but we have medics here. It's natural. Heats, ruts, we all have them. And, hey... at least you're not an Omega, right?" Whatever relief you’d momentarily experienced sinks back down in your gut with the speed of a rollercoaster drop. It’s as silent as a stakeout, the only sound being people’s breathing. And the lack of yours.

It takes a moment to gather yourself, everyone’s eyes on you with the serious topic change. While sex and the downsides to a designation are something discussed with the boys, you’d often been left out. And to your comfort. "You know what? I can’t do this,” you retort. Backing from the group, you toss your hands up. “I guess you'll just have to wait and see," you bite back. With a whip of your hair over your shoulder, you head for the door.

The room is silent once more as everyone gawks. You’d never reacted in such a manner, had an outburst like that… this is… certainly different, and something they’re not at all used to.

“It’s because they took away her suppressants today,” Price explains. It might not have been something the group should be privileged to know. A private matter, really… but with the way you acted? He felt the men deserve an explanation, at least.

“That makes sense,” Gaz responds quietly, eyes still on the door you’d gone through.

“That’s no excuse,” Johnny counters, arms crossing over his chest with a scowl on his lips.

"Well... that went better than I thought,” Ghost comments with a shrug. “Back to the plan? We can fill her in later.”

[chloe-petrichors]

seething, blooming // jace x reader

your father has always been something of an opportunist, but trying to marry you off to the blacks while he courts the greens? this is taking playing the game to a whole new level.

the rose discovers she is an instrument of war. —victor hugo.

fandom; house of the dragon pairing; jacaerys velaryon x f!tyrell!reader (no use of y/n) warnings; canon au (set after aegon takes the crown but before luke's death bc luke will never die in my eyes), altered timeline (jace and reader are in their 20s), arranged marriage, mention parental death/death in childbed (reader's mother), love at first sight vibes, jace is a flirtatious little shit with his betrothed, tooth rotting fluff, love confessions. word count; 6k+ notes; one day i might write for another man. but that day is not today. jace velaryon u have my heart. i'm not majorly pleased w this fic but it's given me enough trouble and it's as good as it's gonna get! this was longer originally, and was meant to be a bit more political at first hence the blurb/quote choice, but i haaated some of the scenes so ended up scrapping 'em. she's not as long as predicted as a result but still an ok length i think. some of the scenes i scrapped were tragically the smut ones, so have this fairly pg one-shot with the promise of the smut-shot sitting in my drafts coming ur way soon. fair warning that the scrapping of scenes has fudged with the pacing a bit but honestly i can't take this fic sitting in my drafts any longer so here u go!! i have a taglist now, mostly cos eldrith keeps telling me i have to tag her in everything, so lmk if you'd like to be added to it! requests; are open !

the rising sun paints highgarden in shades of pink and gold.

you stand upon your balcony, finger curled loosely over the pale marble as you stare distantly out over the rolling green fields and blooming gardens. the faint bubbling of the river mander in the distance adds to the peaceful morning, the early wash of sunlight coaxing the sleeping world into life. a cool breeze carries the sweet smell of roses and you take a steadying breath, eyes fluttering shut as you tilt your face up to the sun.

it's a morning that starts like many others. you’ve always risen from bed early, the slow blooming of morning stirring you from slumber more often than not. birds chirp and bees buzz and the river flows and you rise with it, like part of you calls to the breaking dawn.

if not for the thick sheaf of parchment discarded on your father’s desk, it could be a morning like any other. but the parchment is there, and this day will be like no other before it.

today, a dragon is expected at highgarden.

a targaryen has not stepped foot in the reach since before you were born. you don’t think even the princess rhaenyra – queen, now, according to some – had come this far on her marriage tour years ago. but your father has taken it upon himself to invite a prince to your home.

you love your father deeply, but in this you think he must be a fool. as lord paramount of the reach he is, in theory, the power of this kingdom. but anyone with a lick of sense knows that it’s the hightowers that the people look to; oldtown is home to the starry sept, the citadel and, perhaps more importantly, the dowager queen’s family line.

the tyrells have only been in power for a few generations, and people’s memories are long. too many know the truth of how house tyrell had been only a steward when the gardener kings had ruled before the conquest. and so too many see tyrell as a house grasping for power that should be beyond their fingers, and your father is apparently determined to prove them all right.

he’s been careful about his neutrality as war threatens to break out between the targaryen kin, brother and sister both claiming their right to the throne and the realm splitting down the middle. your father has not officially allied with either side, walking a careful tightrope to appease both. up until now you had assumed he sided more with the greens, but he’d sent your assumptions crumbling with only a few sheets of parchment.

your father has always been too ambitious for his own good.

gods, how you miss your mother. when she’d been alive, she’d tempered the worst of your father’s foolishness. she’d been a stark before she’d married, steadfast and sensible in the face of your father’s folly. she’d been a woman unlike any other you’ve known; ferocious and a little wild, but with a good heart and a warm smile for any she’d met.

she’d taught you how to be a lady, but so much more than that – she’d taught you to know your own mind. to know when to mind your tongue and when to speak, how to grow your roots so deep you will always stand tall, flourishing and growing like the most determined of flowers. she’d taught you a little of that northern ice, too, reminding you oft that for as much as you were a rose of highgarden you were equally a wolf of the north, and the wolf’s blood has always run thick in your veins. 

she’d called you her little winter rose; delicate and steely and a rare bloom, indeed. she had loved you so fiercely you’d flourished with her tender care, just as the patch of winter roses she’d brought from the glass gardens of winterfell had bloomed ‘neath her careful ministrations. a piece of the north she’d brought south with her, a tiny bit of her home that she’d cradled and cared for until the day you’d lost her to the birthing bed.

your little brother is nearing six, now, and many moons have passed since the sudden grief of your mother had overwhelmed you. but, in recent days you have ached with her loss more often, wondering what she would think of your father’s plans, what she would say to soothe your storm of anxiety. with your looming marriage you find yourself missing your mother acutely, the grief a reopened wound in your chest.

because you are a betrothed woman, now, to be married to a stranger, a prince who is sure to be fighting a war against his kin in the moons to come.

the velaryon prince arrives on dragon back as the sun reaches its peak in the sky.

he dismounts his winged steed in an empty stretch of land a distance from the keep itself, and your father greets him there with a host of staff to accompany him back to the entrance courtyard.

your brother leo bounces in place beside you where you stand with the rest of the household in the courtyard, fairly vibrating with energy at the prospect of seeing a real-life dragon. since the news of the prince’s arrival was announced a sennight ago, leo has done little else but babble about dragons and magic and targaryens. you wish you could share his excitement, his sheer uncomplicated joy, but this visit comes with too many conflicting emotions for you to enjoy it at all.

you’ve always known you would not marry for love. you are the eldest child and only daughter of the lord of the reach – love has never been a factor you could afford to consider. you would do your duty and marry for your house, to seal whatever alliance your father deemed important enough. you’d resigned yourself to this fate as a young girl when your mother had told you in slow, halting words the fear she had felt coming south to marry your father.

but you’d not expected to marry a total stranger. you’d thought your father would at least do you the courtesy of allowing you to meet a suitor before betrothing you to them, but in his feverish ambition to sit his blood on the iron throne he’d promised you to a man you’ve never laid eyes upon.

you don’t want to be queen.

frankly, you think yourself a touch unsuited for it. your father has many times bemoaned your wildness, the wolfs blood that drives you to stubborn recklessness. though you’ve mellowed a little with age and experience, you think you’re still a bit too prone to chaos to be queen of the seven kingdoms one day. never mind the complexities added by the fact that queen rhaenyra’s claim is so fiercely contested, and her half-brother is the one currently physically sitting the iron throne.

thinking about the mess you’re marrying into too much makes your head ache, and the blazing noon sun does little to ease it. leo beside you continues to whisper rapidly about everything he knows about dragons, which is actually quite a lot considering his young age. you think absently you might need to have a word with the maester’s again; leo has wrapped most of the household around his finger, and the elderly maester is prone to indulging your brother when he fixates on a new topic of interest instead of sticking to his lessons.

the sound of hooves on cobble stones startles you from your meandering thoughts, and you straighten your spine as your eyes take in the unfamiliar man riding into the courtyard beside your father while your brother finally falls silent.

he’s handsome, at least; a tumble of dark curls brushing his shoulders, a sharp jaw and a strong nose. though you like to think yourself more than superficial, it eases at least some of your worries to know the prince is attractive to you. your mother had done you the courtesy of explaining what was expected of you on your wedding night after your first moons blood, and in secret since you’d perused the library for books detailing more lustful acts in an effort to satiate your unending curiosity.

you’re worried enough about completing your wifely duties without having to worry about finding the man lying with you repulsive, and so you allow yourself a few moments of relief at his pretty face.

your father dismounts first, gesturing for you to step forward as the prince gets down from his own horse. leo moves forward with you, eyes wide and shining with something akin to hero worship as he gazes at jacaerys. you have a wry thought that perhaps he should marry him since he is so clearly already enamoured, but you brush that aside as your father and the prince approach.

“i am most pleased to introduce my daughter, your grace, as well as my son and heir, leo,” your father says as they reach you, his satisfaction in his successful planning clear as he smiles smugly.

you dip into a perfect curtsey as leo bows a touch clumsily at your side. as heir it would traditionally be leo’s job to greet the prince, but when you send him a sidelong glance you see he is too busy making moon eyes at the darkhaired man to say anything, and so you take it upon yourself to speak.

“welcome to highgarden, my prince. we are honoured to host you,” you greet, finally meeting jacaerys’s eyes. they’re a warm amber shade, the noon sun turning them to liquid honey as he looks at you, and you feel your cheeks flush with the appreciation you can see in his gaze as he drinks you in. it seems he does not find you repulsive either, at least.

he sketches a quick bow, eyes never leaving yours, and you feel your heart start to race in your chest at his attention. “it is an honour to be here, my lady, and to finally make your acquaintance.” he smiles at you then, small and a little crooked but there, and your flush deepens. “i look forward to getting to know you better in the coming days.”

you swallow, hoping your budding attraction is not as obvious as you fear it is. your father is looking increasingly smug as he watches the interaction, though it seems to war with some paternal annoyance as jacaerys lightly flirts with you.

“and i you,” you return softly, a smile quirking on your lips.

“—can i meet your dragon?” leo bursts out, seemingly unable to contain himself any longer, and jacaerys blinks down at him in surprise as you resist the urge to press your palm to your face.

“leo,” you scold immediately as your father chortles at his heir’s enthusiasm for dragons. “the prince has had a long journey. you should give him a chance to settle in before demanding anything of him.”

“right you are, my dear.” your father waves to the household steward before turning to the prince. “alyn will show you to your rooms, your grace, so that you might freshen up, and then we have a feast prepared for this evening to welcome you to highgarden.”

jacaerys nods easily as the greeting crowd begins to disperse, the maester corralling leo to take him for his lessons with fond exasperation even as the boy loudly protests. you mean to go walk the gardens, and so you stay standing in place as the prince trails after your father and steward alyn.

he pauses beside you, though, a slight smile on his face as you look up at him questioningly. your eyes catch on the smattering of freckles on his face, and it takes a moment for you to process his words. “i look forward to speaking to you further at the feast, my lady.”

you smile back at him, cheeks flushing once again as his eyes linger on your mouth for a breathless moment. “i shall save you a dance, my prince,” you return a touch coyly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“only one dance?” he teases, eyebrow arching.

you hum, head tilting to the side in mock consideration as something like satisfaction gleams in jacaerys’s eyes. “i shall have to use the first dance to judge your dancing skills, your grace, before i risk promising you another.”

he laughs then, a little surprised but no doubt pleased as his eyes crinkle with his wide smile. “then i shall do my best to meet your standards, my lady.” he dips into a quick bow of farewell, then, as you finally take note of your father lingering on the steps to the keep with raised eyebrows.

“we shall see,” you return as you curtsey.

you allow yourself a moment to watch his retreating back, eyes dragging over the strong line of his shoulders before you internally shake yourself and head to the gardens, thoughts swimming with honey brown eyes and tanned, freckled skin and a slow dawning certainty that while this betrothal may be unexpected, you doubt it will leave you unsatisfied.

the feast is in full swing by the time the prince arrives at the hall.

the minstrels are playing a jaunty tune as couples twirl on the dance floor. you sit at the head table with leo and your father, watching with a careful eye as your brother cuts up his food. he’s only just mastered the art of eating his food without spilling half if it down his doublet, but as distracted as he is by the festivities and the prospect of seeing a dragon close up, you worry he’s at risk of making a mess of himself regardless.

so absorbed in your task you are, it takes a long moment for you to realise jacaerys has arrived. it’s only when your skin prickles with awareness that you look up from leo and catch sight of the prince winding his way across the floor to the head table, eyes fixed on you. your head tilts to the side slightly as you watch him move, graceful and controlled, through the crowd.

he’s in black and red again, just as he had been when he’d arrived. it seems your father had been right when he’d stated that jacaerys favours his mother’s house colours. you smooth your hand over the skirts of your dress, the deep wine-red of the material feeling less out of place now, before standing with your father to greet the prince.

you all exchange pleasantries quickly as the noise in the hall dims, people realising the prince has arrived. your father ushers jacaerys into the empty seat between you and your father as he raises his goblet to the hall before speaking in his booming voice.

you don’t pay attention to your father’s speech, too aware of the warmth radiating from jacaerys who stands only inches from you to focus. you risk a glance at him from the corner of your eyes only to find his dark honey eyes fixed on you, and you cannot help but smile to yourself even as you flush, turning your eyes back to the crowd.

rousing applause and cheers draw you back to the moment, and you catch yourself in time to raise your wine in toast with your father. you go to sit back down as the crowd returns to its revelries, but the soft brush of a hand on your arm halts your movement. you turn expectingly to the prince, a soft smile on your lips.

“yes, your grace?”

“would you do me the honour of a dance, my lady?”

your lips quirk into a sly smile even as you bob your head in a nod. “i suppose i did promise you one, did i not?”

“that you did, my lady, and i have thought of nothing else since.” dark honey eyes sparkle with mirth as he offers you his hand, and with a quiet giggle you take it and allow him to lead you to the dance floor.

you feel the heat of his hand on your waist like a brand even through the layers of your dress, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. you inhale deeply in an effort to steady yourself as you rest your palm on his strong shoulder, and are immediately overwhelmed by the woodsy scent of him as he claps your hand in his and begins to dance.

you start the dance in comfortable silence, both of you taking a few moments to get a feel for the other and settle into the steps, and when you feel comfortable enough you speak.

“how are you finding highgarden, prince jacaerys?”

“jace, please,” he entreats, and elaborates only when you blink at him in confusion. “my friends and family call me jace, not jacaerys. we are to be married, my lady. it would please me a great deal for my future wife to refer to me as such.”

you nod in acceptance, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his eager expression. “jace it is, then,” you say, and try not to feel the way your heart flutters at his radiant smile in response. “although you have not answered my question. how are you finding highgarden?”

he hums, twirling you as the dance requires and then pulling you closer before responding. “your father has been very hospitable, and it is certainly beautiful here. the grounds especially, though i’m afraid i’ve not had the opportunity to see much of them as yet.”

“a shame we shall have to rectify, i think.” you offer him a small smile as you press just an inch closer, finding yourself wanting to be nearer him. “perhaps i could show you the gardens on the morrow?”

“yes,” he agrees a touch too quickly, and you giggle as his cheeks turn pink. “that is to say— i should like that very much, my lady. very much indeed.”

you lapse into silence once more as the dance reaches its crescendo, and you find yourself reluctant to leave the comfort of his hands as the music pauses while the minstrels ready their next song.

jace seems to share the sentiment, it seems, as his eyes linger on your entwined hands for a long moment before returning to your face. “have i met your standards enough for another dance, then?”

you take a moment to pretend to consider it, eyes narrowing slightly as you hum. he shuffles on his feet as he waits for your response, and you find the nervous motion far too endearing.

“i suppose so,” you concede after a moment, grinning at his smugly pleased smile as he tugs you closer.

“and what about the dance after that?” he asks lightly, something cheeky in his eyes as the music starts up again and he sweeps you along the floor.

“you should not press your luck, jace,” you say imperiously, although the effect is rather ruined by the silly smile on your face as he laughs with you.

jacaerys smirks. “my lady, since meeting you, i have felt nothing but a lucky man.”

you smother a snort, shaking your head at his unrepentant expression. “you are incorrigible.” it comes out a touch exasperated and yet far too fond.

“yes,” the prince agrees readily, a sly twinkle in his eyes. “but i think you rather enjoy it.”

your startled laugh is loud, though thankfully not so loud as to be heard over the minstrels. “perhaps.”

after that, the night is lost to flirtatious banter and dance after dance in your betrothed’s arms as a seed of affection is planted deep in your heart. and when you wake in the morning after dreaming of nothing but jace’s lips and eyes and words, you can think only one thought;

gods, i am in so much trouble.

time passes in a slow trickle of syrupy summer heat.

as the days go by, you find yourself spending more and more time in jace’s company. you’re always chaperoned, of course, a household guard following at a respectful distance wherever the two of you choose to roam. you find the whole thing a touch ridiculous; jace is to be your husband. it’s hardly like spending time together alone would be a significant scandal in light of your impending marriage, but your father insists there will be no doubts about your honour before the marriage actually takes place and so ser dickon is assigned as your reluctant shadow.

the date of the wedding itself remains unset as you and jace start to know one another. your father wishes for the marriage to wait until the war is done – a last-ditch chance to keep his options open, perhaps. Or, if you are feeling generous, a way to try and keep you safe from the greens when war inevitably rages. jace’s mother wishes the marriage to happen as soon as can be arranged – a way to try and ensure further heirs with the uncertainty of war looming, you assume.

you find yourself hoping the queen’s will wins the day as time creeps on. jace becomes ever dearer to you the more you learn about him, and soon you think of your impending marriage with nothing but hope and warm desire.

because oh, how you want him. from the first moment you’d laid eyes upon him you’d been attracted to him, but the more you get to know him, the more your heart opens to him – the more you ache for him. for his mouth on yours, his fingertips on your skin, his voice in your ear. if you were a less reckless woman, a little less shameless, you’d be embarrassed of how easily you think of him in your moments apart.

but late at night when the candles burn low and you are alone in your bed, there is no shame to be found, only the wildness of your wolfs blood and liquid heat as your hand drifts between your legs and you find completion with your betrothed’s name on your lips.

beyond the desire, though, is a slow blooming affection. it feels like every time you learn something new about him or share a new experience together, another petal of tenderness unfurls in your chest. when your father had first told you about your betrothal, you’d not dared to hope for more than civility with your husband-to-be, but now you find yourself harbouring deep fondness on top of steadily burning desire, and you look to your future as his wife with little else but excitement.

you’re not sure if jace feels the same. you don’t doubt he desires you; his flirtation and the weight of his gaze on your form is too frequent a thing for you to think otherwise. but desire is not the same as affection, and though you hope desperately that the way he always seeks your presence whenever he steps into a room means what you want it to mean, you can’t be sure.

after a week passes, you both start to chafe at the relentless presence of ser dickon. it feels like every time you so much as think about inching closer to jacaerys, ser dickon is there with his stern glare of disapproval. and so, when one morning jace suggests taking you to meet his dragon, alone, you are quick to agree.

you leave your guard long behind at jace’s instruction; he doesn’t want vermax crowded with strangers, he explains, but you personally think he seems a little too gleeful at the idea of being alone with you for that to be sole reason behind his insistence ser dickon stays far away. you don’t say anything since you’re equally pleased to finally be spending some time with your betrothed without feeling others curious eyes on you.

your excitement starts to waver, however, as you and jace get closer to his dragon. you’ve only seen vermax from a distance before this, and though it perhaps shouldn’t the size of him startles you. he’s just so large and fierce looking, the sharp spines on his back catching your eye. the beast yawns as you slow to a stop, jace sending you a quick smile before he continues on to greet his dragon with fondness, and the glimpse into vermax’s open maw – gods, there as so many teeth – has your palms starting to sweat.

jace stands beside his dragon, murmuring soothing words in high valyrian that you don’t understand as his hand smooths along his snout. your heart races in your chest, nerves making your hands shake when faced with this great beast. you curse your reckless curiosity, your northern stubbornness that makes it impossible for you to refuse a challenge. you have no idea how jace can look so at ease, the line of his shoulders relaxed and the slightest smile on his face as he talks to his winged steed, but there he stands.

“you can come closer now.” he turns to you, brown eyes shining with excitement and, yes, a hint of challenge.

he expects you to back out, you think, and that realisation has you straightening your spine and pressing your lips together. you twist your fingers in your skirts to hide the way they tremble as you step cautiously forward, eyes darting from jace to vermax and back. when you’re within touching distance of the velaryon prince, he reaches for your hand. the shock of his bare skin against yours arrests you for a moment, the slide of calloused fingers around your wrist startling in how easily it sparks desire in you.

you’re so distracted by the feel of him that you don’t realise until it’s too late that jace has tugged you closer, guiding your hand until it’s pressed to vermax’s scales, and then you’re too busy being surprised by how soft they feel to be annoyed that he’s so easily coaxed you into this position.

you still as the dragon rumbles, swallowing thickly as your fingers twitch against green scales. he blinks lazily at you, an alien intellect gleaming there as he seems to consider you for a long moment, and as you blink back at him some of the fear in your chest shakes loose.

because this is not just some beast, you realise. this is fire and blood and magic made flesh. there is life and intelligence in vermax’s eyes, not one you recognise but one you immediately respect. being this close to the dragon is a heady rush of awe and adrenaline; the knowledge that vermax could so easily harm you at any moment but is choosing not to because he trusts his rider. it’s staggering and wonderful and beside you jace is beaming, eyes shining with happiness at seeing you greet his draconic companion, and you are helplessly, hopelessly, wholly overwhelmed by your affection, your desire, by jace.

you kiss him.

it’s barely a kiss, more a breathless press of your mouth against his, and he startles at the sensation even as his arm loops around your waist. you break apart for the barest moment, nose sliding against his as you tilt your head, and jacaerys sighs out your name with heavy relief before he captures your mouth once more.

you’ve been kissed before, so you know the mechanics of it, but it’s never been like this. his lips move smoothly against yours as his hand flexes on your waist, drawing you closer until your chest is pressed against his. your hand tangles in his hair, fingers twisting in the soft curls and he moans with it, hand dragging up your back to cradle the back of your head tenderly as his tongue sweeps over your lips.

the gentle pressure of it has you gasping and he takes the opportunity immediately, tongue sliding against yours as heat pools in your core. your thoughts tumble wildly, incoherent as you can think of nothing but of how desperately you want more. the taste – the smell – the feel of him is drowning everything out that isn’t jace and you cannot resist it, do not even want to.

you want to kiss him forever, want his hand in your hair and his tongue in your mouth for always. you think he might even let you with how relentless he is, barely giving you a moments pause to catch your breath before consuming you in another desperate kiss.

you finally part only when vermax grumbles, cheeks blazing with heat as you step out of jace’s arms. jace murmurs lowly to his dragon in valyrian, and he nudges his great snout against jace’s shoulder in response before stepping away and curling down into the long grass to sleep. you take the moment to properly catch your breath again, hand pressing to your heaving chest in an effort to soothe your racing heart.

when you peek up at jace from beneath your lashes, you flush deeply at the sight of him. his curls are a mess, his lips swollen and cheeks pink beneath his tan. he looks almost debauched, and it sends a rush of desire through you. you suddenly can think of nothing other than him looking like this only flusher and skin glistening with sweat and in your bed.

the thought startles you into dropping your gaze to your feet, and you shuffle uncertainly. you feel – unsettled. you don’t think there’s anything wrong with sharing a kiss with your betrothed, and yet something like guilt curdles in your stomach as you worry at your bottom lip. you had kissed him. for all that he’d kissed you back, you worry that now he will think differently of you. think worse of you.

a knuckle tucks under your chin, then, lifting your face so that you meet jace’s eyes. you feel small and strangely vulnerable in the aftermath of your kiss, like you have somehow shown him something you never intended to, and the urge to shy away remains. but you are not a winter rose for nothing and so you tuck the doubt away as jace runs his thumb soothingly along the line of your jaw.

“i have been thinking of doing that since the moment you first smiled at me,” he confesses, a hint of shyness in the quirk of his lips even as he stares steadily into your eyes.

“oh.” you blink at him once in surprise, the uneasiness in you finally settling at the fondness in his gaze. “oh. that’s— good.” you curse yourself for your lack of wit in this moment as jace snickers.  “i-i mean, i’m glad that it was not… unwelcome.”

your betrothed looks at you with deep affection, then, cupping your cheek and ducking down to press a fleeting, butterfly-soft kiss to your mouth before reluctantly parting from you. “it was most welcome, my lady. most welcome, indeed.” his eyes sparkle with mirth. “i find myself looking forward to the next time you greet vermax, if this is the kind of response such a thing garners.”

“jace!” you narrow your eyes at him in pretend annoyance, even as you smother a giggle with your fingers. “you should not expect me to indulge in such desires again, then, if you persist in being so smug about it.”

his laugh warms you as the two of you fall into easy banter, leaving vermax to his rest and returning to the ever-watchful ser dickon, and all the while all you can think of is how much you cannot wait to kiss him again.

as the air cools with the dying light of day, you lead jace to the gardens.

in the week since your first kiss, jace has oft tugged you into shadowy corners for more kisses any chance he’s had. his desire for you is matched only by your own for him, and as your confidence in your mutual attraction has grown, you have been equally as likely to pull him into a dark alcove to trade sweet words and sweet kisses in secret.

it’s thrilling and exciting and wonderful, but as the week passes you find a growing doubt whispering in the back of your mind.

while you cannot doubt jace desires you, not when he is so relentless in chasing after your smiling mouth, neither of you breathe a word of any feeling between you beyond attraction. perhaps it is reckless of you, foolhardy to fall for him so quickly – but then you are your parent’s daughter, all wolfs blood and deep roots, and you know no other way of being than this.

so you take him to the gardens as the moon rises in the sky, sneak past the night guards and out into the fresh air. you guide him through the blooming flowers and swaying trees, stopping along the while when the fancy takes one of you to stop and examine an interesting bloom or inhale a sweet scent. at least three times he stops you to slot his mouth against yours, to swallow your breathless giggling with feverish kisses, and each time he does it takes longer and longer for you to disentangle yourselves from each other.

eventually, with swollen lips and mussed hair, the two of you reach the winter roses. your effervescent mood becomes sombre as the moon shines on the blue flowers, turning the petals almost silver, and jace seems to recognise the change in atmosphere, a seriousness overtaking him as he watches you approach the flowers.

“my mother planted the first of these roses,” you tell jace as you kneel at the edge of the flowerbed, uncaring of the risk of dirt on your dress as you brush fingers over the pale blue petals tenderly. “winter roses, they are, from the north. from winterfell. she was born a stark, you see, and when she was betrothed to my father the only thing she asked was to be able to bring a few blooms from the glass gardens. she used to call me her little winter rose when i was a child, and she would bring me here and show me how to tend to them.”

jace kneels beside you, glancing at the side of your face before turning to look curiously at the blue flowers. “they’re beautiful,” he tells you sincerely.

“i’ve always thought so, too,” you agree almost absently, stroking the petals in an effort to calm your racing heart. “everyone told my mother she’d never be able to get them to grow so far south. they’re very rare, you see, and need very particular conditions.” your lips quirk up into a fond smile. “but my mother, for all that she became a tyrell, was always a stark at heart. stubborn, you know. and now look at them, thriving.”

you gesture out at the carefully tended rows of roses. “nobody else comes here, now, other than the gardeners and me. i think… i think my father finds it too hard, being here. it makes him miss her too much. so i come here when i need to be alone. or when i wish to be reminded of her. it's the one place in the world where i feel i can be wholly myself, without any pretence or worry.”

jace’s gaze is fixed on you, now, eyes almost black in the faint moonlight as understanding dawns on him. “thank you for bringing me here.”

you nod once, climbing back to your feet, and jace follows you. he watches you so intently, like he’s afraid that you might disappear if he dares to look away. you feel a little like you might, feel tenuous and vulnerable and a breath away from cracking your chest open.

“i’ve never brought anyone else here,” you confess quietly, flexing your fingers with nerves as jace’s lips part in surprise. “i wished… i wished to share this with you. to share who i am, myself, with you, i suppose.” you laugh a little self-deprecatingly. “however pretentious that sounds.”

“it doesn’t,” jace denies immediately. you sense he wants to say more, but he seems to understand that you’re building to saying something yourself, and so he stays quiet, expression earnest and open and fond as he gazes down at you.

“i know it’s perhaps too soon – we have only known each other a few weeks. but i… when i first found out we were betrothed, i was so scared. i worried you would be some arrogant princeling, and i dared not hope for anything more than civility between us. i’ve always known i would not marry for love, but i did not ever consider i would marry a man i had never met.”

you pause for long enough to suck in a breath, feeling a little like the floodgates have opened and you simply can’t stop speaking, can’t stop the feeling pouring freely from you. “and then i met you, and you were so unlike anything i’d expected. i know we still have so much more to learn about each other, and i know that things are— complicated, with the war, and that our marriage may be a ways off yet, but still— i find myself feeling for you, and i cannot hide it anymore. i don’t wish to hide it from you anymore.”

you let the open affection in his face buoy you as you steel yourself, pressing your shoulders back in a mimicry of confidence. “i wanted to show you this part of me, this place, because i….” you hesitate for a breathless moment, biting your lip, before gathering every scrap of courage you possess and diving in headfirst. “i am falling in love with you, jacaerys.”

you inhale the sweet scent of the pale blue petals deeply, let the familiar scent soothe you as jace stares at you with wide eyes. the winter roses are something that, until now, have been so uniquely yours. as you’d told jace, none other than you and the gardeners comes to this corner of the gardens now. the staff that tend so carefully to the flowers know to leave you well enough alone if they stumble across you, skirts splayed on the ground and fingers diligently caring for the roses. you’ve never even brought your sweet little brother, though you can admit that’s for practicality as much as anything else – his childish energy is a bit too boisterous for these delicate blooms.

bringing jace here, bringing him here to confess the deepening affection you harbour for him, feels raw. feels like you’re tearing your heart out of your chest and offering it up to him for perusal, hands bloody and soul bare. feels like saying ‘this is all that i am and all that i have been and all i will ever be and i hope, i hope, i hope it’s enough.’

jace finally, finally speaks, sighs your name, soft and sweet and tender, and hope blooms in your chest.

“oh, my sweet lady,” he murmurs, crowding into your space as he cups your cheek, and the smell of woodsmoke and dragon and jace floods your senses. “i am falling so unbelievably in love with you. only, it does not feel so much like falling as it is like choosing it, like walking into love with you with my eyes wide open and seeing nothing but you.”

it's almost unbearable, the blazing heat of his gaze as he presses his forehead against yours, and it makes you tremble as your hands clutch as his elbows in an effort to ground yourself to this moment, to him. “our betrothal was decided for us without care or consideration for our own desires,” he says, lips brushing against your own with every whispered word. “i know that as well as you, but i need you to know that if i had the choice i would choose this. i would choose you, your stubborn heart, your fierce spirit, your gracious soul.”

his hand slides from your cheek to your hair, holds you so tenderly like you are something precious, and it steals your breath from your lungs as you revel in his unbridled affection. “i care not when we marry, if we marry, in truth, because in my heart you are already mine just as i am already yours.”

he kisses you, then, a desperate and greedy thing, as if he can no longer restrain himself from devouring you whole. and you are just as needy, hands fisting in his doublet as you press yourself against him and somehow finding yourself wishing to be closer still. the world narrows down to him and him only; his mouth, his hands, his hair. you can think of nothing else, and do not wish to, because in this moment you are wholly yourself and he is wholly himself and it’s enough, it’s wonderful and delicate and it’s enough.

and, there beneath the moonlight and amongst the winter roses, deep and enduring affection, the kind of love the bards sing songs about, takes root.

taglist; @eldrith

[mickyschumacher]

Im not sure if your request are open but if they are- a fic with Lando based off the song lose control by Teddy swims. Angst and smut, the whole works😩

But if your request are not open and you see this I hope you have an amazing day/night 🫶

(also I absolutely love your writing. Binge read majority of them the first day I got tumblr and I’m obsessed)

[LOSE CONTROL!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando had ended things on a good note... or so you thought. you didn't expect to find him at your front door begging for a second chance. or in which lando doesn't know when to give up.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), mentions of magui (not a fan of what she's done but this is fiction), angst, jealousy, cheesy confessions, unprotected sex (pretty please use protection), teasing, slight-public roleplay? breast play, eating out, fingering, oral sex, p in v, cumming inside, mentions of crashing, technically infidelity on lando's part, poor humour, fluff, and poor proofreading.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: ex-fwb!lando norris x fem!reader, special appearances: magui corceiro and joão felix.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 9k+

𝐀/𝐍: first of all so sorry for taking this up so late! my bad... but it's done! in time for my 2k special! yes that's right, there are two thousands of you little buggers reading my work! i'm ever so grateful, especially because i'm the most inconsistent person i know! thank you for putting up with me, for reading my work, and for your cute little comments. they all make me very happy in such a tough time i've been going through. sending you my ever grateful love from the bottom of my heart ♡︎ p.s it's my 100th post shocker!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

"I miss you."

Lando's voice was always like this. Slightly croaky and brittle yet warm and full of need. For you it was a sort of drug. It always pulled you in, it blurred the line between wrong and right, and you always came back for more. And when it was paired with those brown tinged blue eyes of his and all the freckles on his face, you were a goner.

"Lando," you sighed, leaning on your door frame. It was one in the morning. You were asleep but ever so gracefully woken up to the consistent ring of your doorbell. You rubbed your face with an exhaustion not familiar to your slumber but familiar to the antics of Lando himself. The words fell from your lips in an eased flow. "You can't be here. You don't miss me. You need to leave."

You tried to avoid his pained eyes but everywhere you looked, you met them in some shape or form.

"But I do miss you. I miss everything about you. Your smile, your lips, your body, your laugh, fuck, everything."

You blinked slowly, wondering how you had got here. How is it that the decisions and choice you made in life lead to Lando Norris pleading at your front door at one in the morning?

Ah...

There was an answer to that.

As the story goes, around a year ago, you were with Lando. 'With' was a loose term. It was supposed to be friends with benefits. You had been for almost a year by that point. Naturally, the only rule to being friends with benefits was to not fall in love with each other. And as natural as that rule was, there was a common saying: 'Rules are meant to be broken.'

You and Lando both realised it. But it terrified you the most. You weren't cut out for this. Things were already hard enough as it was sneaking around.

Travelling on the private jets, facing the media and the public, having to watch Lando race every weekend and pray for him wellbeing... it wasn't exactly your cup of tea. It was exactly why you were friends with benefits in the first place.

So you ended it. Lando wasn't happy about it but he respected it.

That was the end of your story.

Or so you thought.

"Lan, you're in a relationship. For fuck's sake, please can you consider her at least?"

Lando ran a hand through his dark mop of curls, sighing while holding back the eye roll at the mention of his intricately created PR relationship. He knew you were right. You often were. But you weren't understanding him. He didn't think you ever could, no matter how much he tried to explain it to you.

You and him... you were made for each other. He knew it from the bottom of his heart. You were perfect. Together, you were perfect. There was no one like you. And for him, there was no one else. Not ever. No matter who he dated or who he was with, he'd be damned if there was someone else other than you.

Lando's tongue poked his cheek, eyes firmly on you. "Are you coming this Sunday? In the evening?"

This race weekend was the Silverstone circuit and in the same day, afterwards, was a dinner party with the drivers, families, and friends. In other words, it was a recipe for disaster.

"I don't think I should..." you trailed off, internally wincing when you knew deep down you should've just said you weren't coming rather than being open to it. When it came to the blue-eyed boy in front of you, any assertiveness you ever had was thrown out the window.

Lando reached to grab your hands, fingers automatically rubbing smooth circles into your skin. "Please come," he pleaded, "if not for me, come for mum and dad, hmm? They miss having you around."

You pressed your lips together, eyes falling onto the floor as you began to chew your lip. "Lando, I can't come. It doesn't look good... for the both of–"

"She won't be there."

Your eyes flickered up to Lando, widening slightly at his words.

With an eager sharpe intake of air, he doubled down on his response. "If that's why you're saying no, she won't be there."

You tilted your head, giving him an almost dry look. "You know that's not even half of the reason." A sigh fell from your lips. "Go home, Lando. You've got practice tomorrow. You need sleep."

Lando's eyes softened. You always kept track of those small things for him, scolding him for not going to sleep early or not taking care of himself. It was like old times all over again. His grip around your hands tightened. "I will," He promised, "but tell me you're coming on Sunday. Please."

You cursed at yourself. It was that same voice. That one with so much need and desperation. It was as if a voice gained the ability to have puppy eyes.

Reluctantly, you nodded slowly. "Fine... I'll come," you relented.

A smile finally sprawled across Lando's face, hands moving to quickly bring you into a hug. His arms felt comfortable, bringing an ease you hadn't felt in over a year. "Thank you."

Your eyes widened when you felt a quick kiss on your cheek, still lingering after Lando parted. He grinned, taking a few steps back from you. "I'll see you Sunday. "

━━━━━━━━━━━

The Sunday jitters were real. You couldn't ever truly imagine how anyone of the drivers felt on race day but you imagined it to be something like this.

The way your heart was thumping, one would think you have an odd case of arrhythmia. You were working up a sweat masked by the anxious sprays of perfume you had lathered on and all you were doing was standing.

You hadn't watched the race in person because that was equally as idiotic as going to a brunch where the person you love and his family was despite him having a girlfriend. And you didn't want to be twice as idiotic. In the end, Lando had gotten a well-earned P3 at his home race, despite the mistakes of his team.

You were happy for him. But it didn't rule out the fact you were in a serious dilemma of awkwardness as you dawdled outside of the venue. Your fingers twirled around the fabric of your dress.

You shouldn't of worn it. It was Lando's favourite. You knew that.

Hell, you shouldn't be here.

You should go home.

It wasn't too late.

Your name abruptly sprung into the air. "Is that you?"

Well shit.

You took a slow turn on your feet, a sheepish smile automatically working its way onto your face. "Mr and Mrs Norris!" you greeted.

An amused huff fell from Lando's mother's mouth. "Please! You know you can call by our names!"

Somewhere in the back of your head, you could feel your mother's voice nagging you at the very thought of calling them by their names.

Cisca smiled, bringing you into a warm hug. "God, we've miss you!" Pulling away after a few seconds, she took another few to observe you. "You've become more beautiful since we last saw you, isn't that right, Adam?"

Lando's father chuckled. "Not more than you though," he teased only to get a playful elbow from his wife. He turned to you and grinned, reminding you exactly where Lando's came from. "The girls will be so happy to see you, sweetie. Oliver too."

You laughed gently, thanking them. Your mouth felt dry. Usually you knew what to say to them. But it had been so long, you weren't sure what to say. Whether it was right or wrong. How much Lando had even said...

"Lando was telling us how you've been busy studying, is that right? You've been doing your master's?" His father queried.

Speak of the devil...

You nodded slowly. "Yes. It's research based so it's quite, uh, time consuming. So I just wanted to put a year dedicated to it. That's why I haven't been around as much."

Both of his parents nodded in understanding. His mother pouted, "While it's been sad without you, I'm very proud of you. A bachelors is no easy feat let alone a master's!"

Your heart constricted while her soft eyes met yours. His mother was always like this. Talking you... treating you as if you were her daughter. You never understood it. You'd only known each other for a couple of years including the period were you and Lando were with each other.

You asked her a month before you had ended it with Lando how she knew you so well. Her response... you could've never forgotten it even if you willed it. '"A mother knows everything. What's good and bad for their children. You know it as mother's intuition. When I look at you, I just know."'

"'Know what?'" You remembered asking.

"How important you are to Lando."

And that was when you realised you were completely and utterly in love with him.

"If you two are done talking, we should finally go inside," Lando's father continued to tease.

You sucked in a sharp breath as you walked with his parents inside the venue.

It was definitely too late.

━━━━━━━━━━━

To be honest, Lando had seen many beautiful things in life. Life, if you looked at it carefully, perhaps on a slight angle, was beautiful. And besides, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

But the sight of you walking into the venue, arm linked with his own mother and you chatting with his father was forever etched into his brain.

He could've sworn his heart was leaping out of his chest. Everything about what he was seeing was perfect. Your smile, the atmosphere, the sun shining down on you, the sound of your laugh, your hair, the wind, the dress... God, he could go on and on.

"Lando! Look who we met outside!" His mother cheered making him grin.

"Well, well, well," Lando smiled, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before hugging his father. He stepped back, blue eyes fixated on you. He stretched out his arms, waiting for a hug making you sigh and his parents laugh softly.

You took a step forward, reaching your hands to wrap around his back while Lando's own hands fell to your waist and brought you close. His classic Tom Ford perfume lingered around you as he whispered in your ear. "You came."

"I promised," you responded softly, pulling back only for him to tighten his grip on you. You suppressed an eye roll. "Congrats on P3. You did well."

Lando perked up at the mention of his race and finally pulled back. "You watched?"

"I–" Your voice was interrupted by another familiar Brit.

"Is that who I think it is?" Alex queried with his usual wide grin.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Depends... is it the most prettiest girl? After Lily, of course."

Alex chuckled. "Is there any other answer?"

You pretended to ponder. "Nope! That's the one." You both laughed as you gave each other a hug.

"Where have you been? I needed someone to give me company on the tracks. It's been so lonely," He complained dramatically.

And without realising it, you were back to meeting everyone you hadn't seen in a long time. Weirdly enough, you missed this. Talking to everyone, joking around, just spending time with them... it gave you some sort of peace.

"Okay! Oscar, you're time's up," Lando announced, standing at the table you, Oscar and his girlfriend, Lily, were seated at.

Oscar gaped at his teammate. "But we only just met her!"

Lando gave a sickly sweet smile. "Aw... tough. Now scram!"

You shook your head as you watched the couple leave the table. "You are the worst," you said, leaning on your arm while Lando took a seat next to you.

"I haven't seen you in so long! Sue me for wanting to spend time with you," Lando shrugged in his defence, blue eyes trained on you.

You blinked, averting your eyes to the rest of the party. "I going to get some champagne," you murmured, standing up to go the table full of various spirits and juices.

You cursed silently as you caught Lando following after you from your peripheral. Arriving to the table, your fingers danced around, looking for the right glass of bubbles.

"You're ignoring me," Lando stated, hot breath skimming past your ear as he stood inches away from you.

You kept your eyes on the alcohol, letting a small laugh fall from your lips. "Gee, has anyone ever told you that you're a smart cookie, Lando"?

Lando pursed his lips. "I miss you."

You sighed at the familiar words, fingers wrapping around a glass of what you were pretty sure was Dom Perignon leisurely being given. "Lando... stop it. I came here because you wanted me to, okay? Just forget about whatever it is you're thinking about."

You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt Lando's hand travel to yours, fingers just hanging on to each other. You hated how his touch made you feel so... so tingly. As if you were having your first crush.

"So that's why you wore this dress? To tell me to stop? Because I wanted you here?" He laughed softly, playing with your fingers. He shook his head. "I can't even imagine what you'd do if I told you every single thought running through my head right now."

Your eyes widened. You shakily put back the glass of champagne.

"Lan–" Your voice cut off upon the feeling of his fingers trailing at the back of your neck. You gulped while Lando's voice continued to linger.

"How much of a mistake do you think this really is? Wearing my favourite dress? Don't think I haven't seen that necklace on you. Let's turn that pendant around and show everyone who's name is on it, hmm?"

Your eyes widened. Shit. You had completely forgotten about the necklace. You had spent all your time using it on the front side that you had forgotten about his initial's engraved on the back.

Lando's tongue trailed over his bottom lip, head tilting to the side. "Sweetheart, I'm torn. You have no idea how gorgeous you look. But you have no idea how much I would give... what I would do to take you home right now. That dress would be off and my fingers would be on you. Fuck, just imagining it, I–"

"Lando!"

You and Lando both furrowed your brows, chests heaving breathlessly. You definitely didn't say his name nor did you sound like that. Turning your head slightly, the view made you take wide steps back from Lando.

Lando mended his brows even more, only smoothing them when he saw what you had seen. "B-Baby!" The endearment failed to come out of his mouth smoothly, making you wince.

You watched Lando hug the blonde girl in front of you. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Brazil?" He asked, only just covering up his sheer curiosity.

"I was but I wanted to surprise you... so surprise!"

A surprise... yes it was.

You blinked as the blonde turned to you, extended her hand, and introduced herself. Awkwardly, you returned the kind gesture because ultimately she had done nothing wrong to you.

You introduced yourself as Lando's old friend because it was the safest bet. And it was the truth... to some degree.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Lando asked his girlfriend as a queasy feeling began to form in your stomach. You think you can hear her respond, settling for a glass. You weren't sure. Your ears were tuning in and out of this noise. Out of your peripheral you see the driver turn to you. "Did you still want your champagne?"

You let out a low exhale and gave the both of them a tight smile. "It's okay. I was just leaving."

The smile on Lando's face dropped. "W-What? Already?"

You nodded curtly. "Lots of things to do."

Lando narrowed his eyes. "Like what? It's barely seven... the day's almost over..."

Your eyes widened, feeling startled as an awkward laugh fell from his girlfriend's lips. "Lan, the girl said she has things to do. Stop grilling her. Sorry... must be the post-race adrenaline or something. It's a shame you can't stick around though. See you around?"

You gave a small smile, slightly irritated at how genuine and sweet she was. You actually wished there was something about her to hate. "Yeah," You agreed softly, "See you around."

━━━━━━━━━━━

About thirty minutes had passed since you left the dinner party, much to everyone's dismay.

You were exhausted.

You only just had the energy to take off your heels and put aside your purse before you fell onto your bed. Sighing, you stared at the ceiling. What even was life anymore?

You couldn't believe yourself. You were so angry and pissed off at Lando and you were jealous of his girlfriend.

There wasn't any rocket science to it. You were still very much in love with Lando. You shouldn't be but you were.

Your mother once told you that love wasn't black and white. It was the blurred line between: it was grey. It was never as simple as being in love or not. You fall in love and fall out of it and just as you did, you would fall once again but with someone else entirely. And sometimes it compelled idiotic things like infidelity or rebounds.

Love was also seasonal. It changed all the time and sometimes you enjoyed it and sometimes it made you suffer. It was entirely demanding. It drove people crazy. It was overwhelming and yet so lonely.

Point in case: love sucked.

And you and Lando had not escaped from it.

You weren't sure if you ever could.

But you had to. It was the right thing to do. Maintaining boundaries was the right way to go.

You blew some air up to your face, pushing the hair out of your face. Nodding to yourself, you told yourself you were getting over Lando.

You sat straight at the sound of your doorbell ringing throughout your house. Begrudgingly you walked towards the door, a hundred percent sure it was your neighbour a floor down. She was a sweet, quiet old lady who fit the 'crazy cat lady' persona a bit too well. Often, she came to you asking if you had seen a cat of hers but the worst part was that all of her cats were the tabby orange type. How she could tell the difference was beyond you, no more than how exactly the cats were using elevators and opening fire exits to get to your floor.

Without thinking too much, you opened the door to greet the lady but all the words you had ever known fell to the air upon seeing Lando.

"Lando," you took a calm deep breath, "Please tell me I'm hallucinating or that you're not actually in front of my door right now."

"I can't do that," Lando said, eyes burning with something a bit too familiar.

Wordlessly, you begun closing the door. But the jutted foot of Lando's quickly intercepted the act. "Please," Lando pleaded, coming into your apartment.

You let out a distressed sigh as you hear the door close. "Lando, you can't be here. You're supposed to be at a dinner party. With your friends... family, with your girlfriend, oh my God, with your freaking girlfriend, Lando."

"But you're the only one on my mind," Lando breathed, watching you walk around your house. His arm reached out to your waist, stopping your endless rounds of circles. He could feel you take a sharp intake of air, standing still at his touch. Holding you close, his lips lingered near your ear while his warmth enveloped you.

"I think I'm going crazy," he murmured. "You're in my dreams. Even when I look at her, I see your face. You're fucking everywhere, sweetheart."

You pursued your lips together. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?" you asked quietly, not to Lando in particular but to the silence of your house.

"Then tell me... that you don't want me here. That you don't feel the same way. Tell me... tell me you don't love me. Then I'll leave. I promise."

"I–" you paused, turning your body to him. You could feel his eyes searching your face but you couldn't even lift your head up. "I don't love you."

A lengthy silence ensued and it spoke volumes.

Finally, a soft chuckle from Lando's lips broke the silence. "You can't even look me in the eye and tell me that."

You threw your head back with an exhausted sigh, giving up. Your hands began to flail about. "What more do you want from me, Lando? Why can't you just leave me, us, alone?"

Lando's hand travelled to your jaw, pulling you in a mere inch away from his face. His grip was soft and warm, lulling you. "I can't leave you alone... I can't ever leave you alone. You don't get it," a cry of frustration fell from his lips while his eyes watered, "You were made for me and I was made for you. You... you are all I ever think about. I can't breathe without you. I exist for you. I am so fucking in love with you, it scares me. And i-if you tell me you love me, I'll break up with her right now."

Your eyes burned with an all but familiar salty liquid. "Lando... I can't."

Lando clenched his jaw. His voice was so quiet, a crack away from breaking entirely. "Why? Why can't you just admit that you're in love with me?"

"Because I'm terrified!"

You feel Lando's hand fall from your jaw while his brows furrowed, asking you what you were talking about. Your cheeks were flushed with heat while your fingers dug rested on your hips, digging into your flesh. You took in a shaky breath.

"I can't do this life, Lan. I can't be away from you all the time and travel with you all the time. I'm not another girl on your arm for the media. And I really can't watch you race. Every time I watch you race... I, " you blew air into your cheeks, "I watch with a sick stomach. Every spin, every crash... I always just think.. God, if something happened to you. If I love you..."

Lando fell silent. For the first time in a long time, he had nothing to say to you. All he had were the fresh tears quietly leaking out of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, using his arm to wipe off the rest of his silent sobbing. Stepping forward, with the soft pad of his thumb, he collected the tears you hadn't realised were falling.

Lando cleared his throat, breathing in while he rested his hand on your cheek, rubbing soft circles into your skin. "Ever since I met you, before I even realised I was in love with you, I've spent every race thinking about you. You're my first thought when those lights go off and the last when that flag waves. You don't know it but you are the only thing that makes me feel truly safe. And I would fight the world if it meant that you could openly love me back."

A singular tear made it's way down your face, seeping into the pores of your skin as Lando pressed a long kiss on your cheek before quietly leaving towards the door. Before entirely leaving, he stopped in his tracks. "I'm not giving up on us. I told you before. I could never leave you."

━━━━━━━━━━━

It had been a month since you and Lando had talked... whatever that was out.

The promise he had made before leaving your house that day was one he was persistent in pursuing. You knew Lando. He was stubborn. Often, what he wanted, he got.

You tried to avoid him. But the good morning and good night messages you received every day despite his ever-changing time zones still reached you. You spent the first three days ignoring them but the guilt with each passing day got heavier.

In a way, it felt like you were restarting your friendship. Taking things slow. Except the odd times that reminded you it was anything but. In particular Lando's 'drunk on horniness' messages or the sudden love confessions that popped out of thin air.

Things were... steadyish.

It was the only reason you had accepted Carlos' extended invitation to join him and the other's at a nightclub. You couldn't lie. Of course, Lando was at the forefront of your brain when you accepted. A part of you was curious.

How was he holding up?

Whether he was still with his girlfriend...

Were his plans on not giving up on you limited to his consistent texts?

But alas, as life usually worked, things did not go the way you planned.

While most of the drivers steered clear of the alcohol aside from their podiums, a practice Lando often took somewhat seriously, he was seriously considering breaking at the sight of you. More specifically, the sight of you and João Felix, the famed five-star FIFA player, mingling.

Lando who wasn't starving for any spirits was ready to down a few shots. But instead, he was completely sober, not a lick of alcohol in him, watching João, the ex-boyfriend of his own girlfriend chat you up.

Lando couldn't exactly blame the athlete. He would've done the same thing: the fixated eyes as you talked, the ear-to-ear smile when you laughed, the seamless checking out when you turned to take a sip of your drink or talk to someone nearby because Lando was a hundred percent sure you were the most gorgeous person in the room.

But he could blame João's pettiness. Lando had his ex and now he was going after you. In way, he rated it. But Lando knew you too well.

You were not interested in the player at all. The tight smiles, the absentminded nods, the readiness to jump into a conversation with literally anyone else... you were practically inviting Lando for a talk.

You could feel yourself freeze at the sight of Lando and his girlfriend walk over to the both of you. The air, all of a sudden, felt thick, fogging up your brain. You weren't quite sure what to say. This odd intertwining history between the four of you was nauseating.

"João," Lando greeted with a fake cheer. Magui, his girlfriend, gave a tight smile that bordered on pissed off – you knew the look all too well.

The football player gave a loose grin, shaking Lando's hand. "Lando... Magui," he sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh! Have you guys met yet?" He asked, brown eyes moving to you as he introduced you to the couple.

The three of you blinked at the dry sarcasm underpinning João's voice. You let a small laugh fall past your lips. "We have, actually. I'm Lando's old friend and Magui and I met not so long ago."

Lando gave you a pointed look. "You are way too down to earth. She's a special old friend," he corrected, grinning at João.

You pursed your lips awkwardly as the two Portugueses raised their eyes brows. You raised your hand to rub the nape of your neck nervously. "Uh, well, no... just old friend will do. Always the funny one, huh, Lando?" You murmured with a forced laugh.

To be honest, as the silence began to build, you were surprised to even hear Magui's voice. "I'm sorry..." she started, arm darting out to grab João's hand, making you widen your eyes, "João, we need to talk."

You incredulously watched Magui drag away the Portuguese before turning to Lando. You pondered over her words. "She still–"

"Likes him? Yup!" Lando said, popping the 'p' as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"It's weird how similar she and I are. Lonely... and both head over heels for our exes." Lando tilted his head, eyes examining you carefully while you took a deep breath. "Can't say the same for João though," he clicked his tongue.

The comment made you raise a brow. Lando softly laughed at your confused expression. "Sweetheart... it is my worst luck that you are the most gorgeous woman to exist. João had eyes for you. From the moment you were talking till the moment we stepped in."

You folded your arms, a small grin teetering on your face at the irritated expression on his face. "So you were watching me... obsessed much?" You humoured out of pure amusement.

Lando poked his cheek with his tongue, taking a step towards you, hands still shoved into this pockets of his pants. "Oh you have no idea."

You pressed your lips together.

There were an infinite amount of things that were unhealthy. Rewatching your comfort shows five times too many, the double digits on your screen-time, a high sugar intake (although your tastebuds said otherwise)...

But for you, it usually ended up being Lando. The various facets of Lando often left you undone. And a clean-shaven Lando, stalking towards you in the loosest long sleeve polo shirt, folded at the arms and half unbuttoned so the necklace you brought him and bracelets he wore glittered under the club lights was just another one of many undoings.

"Lando..." you murmured, taking a step back, eyes darting to your surroundings. "What are you doing?"

"I haven't told you how good you look today, have I? Because you have no idea how fucking hot you look," Lando responded, ignoring your question as he took another step forward.

You swallowed your saliva at the recognisable look swirling in those blue orbs of his. Like he was going to ravage you.

"Lando," you hissed, putting a hand to his chest to maintain some distance. You breathed shakily, trying to think straight. "Have some self-control!"

"Oh sweetheart, you know as much as I do." You widened your eyes as Lando used your hand to pull you closer, merely inches away from his face. His voice, despite it's softness, is drowned in a husk that runs down your spine. His warm breath pricked the surface your skin. "When it comes to you, I have no control."

Never in your life had your throat felt so dry. You burned at his words and his touch made your stomach churn. "But..." you furrowed your brows, trying to remember what you wanted to say. "But Magui? João?" You managed to get out.

As the strobes of light glimmered across Lando, you managed to capture him closing his eyes after being trained on your lips for so long, as though he was trying to hold himself back, swimming up to the surface for some sort of consciousness.

His forehead fell to yours as he pondered those three words. "I told you..." Lando said, hands travelling up your neck to hold your face, relishing the heat your flushed state brought. "I exist for you."

In essence: fuck Magui and fuck João.

━━━━━━━━━━━

"You're kidding me," Lando flatly said, evilly eyeing the 'Out of Order' sign on your elevator.

"I'm also totally kidding that my room's on the fifth floor," You laughed softly, sarcasm underlying your voice.

Lando turned to you with a blank stare. You two had both managed to get out of the nightclub as discreetly as you could (which included the most obvious winks from Carlos and Fewtrell). While both of your patience was wearing thin, in the nature of an F1 driver, Lando was losing it ten times faster.

Lando had been waiting what felt like forever to be with you, for you to green-light him. That time he spent without you felt torturous as though he was being punished for being in love. And now that he had you, he was going to make up for lost time.

The only hitch in his plan was an elevator under maintenance and five flights of stairs.

Lando raised a brow at the anything but innocent smile tugging on your lips. He sucked in a sharp breath. "I do not like that look on your face."

You suppressed an eye roll, knowing damn well those twinkling eyes were saying something else. Slowly, you walked towards the fire exit with Lando following after you cautiously. Popping your head into the room, you looked up and the numerous staircases trailing up the building.

A quiet laugh slipped past Lando's mouth. "What are you doing?" He asked as you took your heels off and placed them on the floor.

You turned to him, resting your hand the railing of the staircase while the other found your hip. "My dear Lando," you tsked, "you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

You smiled at the furrowed brows he sported. "They say you should work hard to get what you want. Who knows..." you shrugged, "Maybe you'll find my panties on the third floor."

As the cogs finally clicked in place, Lando sunk his teeth into his lips. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, raking his eyes over you. "And if someone catches us?"

You jutted your bottom lip, pretending to ponder his question. "Guess you'll have to be fast then. Aren't you an athlete or something?" You teased, grinning ear-to-ear now.

"You are going to be the death of me." Lando gave you a pointed look, throwing his heading back soon after receiving a cheeky wink from your side.

The British driver watched carefully as you started to make your way up the flight of stairs. Smiling to himself while shaking his head, he grabbed your heels with his two fingers and climbed up after you.

Lando was amused and excited at the same time, seeing you occasionally turn to him with a knowing glint in your eyes. He knew himself that things were currently tame: finding your heels, purse, and jacket in his hands.

He felt dazed upon catching a glimpse of the lace underneath your dress, tight around your ample flesh, his own pants beginning to constrict.

"Not just yet, Lan." Your voice piped up in the silence. Lando fluttered his eyes open, seeing you turn back to him again. He questionably hummed in response, gathering himself once again.

"What are you going to do now?" You queried with feigned innocence, eyes flickering to your bra dangling in your hand. "Whoops!"

Lando sucked in a sharp breath, watching your bra fall to the floor before shamelessly moving his eyes to your chest, eyes bulging at the now uncontrolled cleavage spilling from your dress. His fingers clenched around all of your items while he swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth.

The sudden urge to increase his pace up the stairs made you widen your eyes with a fire-like anticipation, matching his action. As Lando grabbed your bra from the floor, he could only imagine what was coming as you arrived to the third floor.

But surprisingly enough, Lando had caught up to you, intentional on your part he was sure. He eyed your body as you sat on a stair, leg crossed over another, letting your dress ride up your thighs.

"Looking for something?" You queried, catching his attention.

"Nothing." Lando winced at the poor and croaky lie escaping his lips.

You grinned, gliding your tongue over your lip. You stood up, hand clenching around the soft and wet fabric in your hands. You could hear Lando's breath hitch as you used your free hand to trail up his leg, only millimetres away from the bulge in his pants.

Lando's eyes focused on you as you met his gaze. He felt your lips graze his own, naturally making him lean in for more but your finger pressing down stopped him, instead pulling his free hand open.

Lando closed his eyes upon the feel of the soft textured fabric in his rough palm. "Please tell me that's what I think it is."

He knew what it was. But he wanted to hear it from your lips.

You moved your lips to his ear. "What do you want to hear? That your holding my panties? Or that they're soaked?"

Lando's eyes snapped open, dropping your items to his side. His hand travelled up your neck, holding your face to jerk it towards him. You could feel his hot breath swarm your vicinity. His thumb trailed over your lips, head leaning in.

You gave him a small smile, pulling away. "We still have two whole floors, Lando. Patience is a virtue."

Lando blinked blankly at the light tap of your fingers on his cheek. He watched you leave once again. Knowing that you had no underwear unknowingly awoke something deeply sinister within him.

You were a siren. Luring him in by doing so little and yet, the most. He was sure of it.

Lando took in a deep breath, closing his eyes once again. He was also sure that the next thing about to come off was the last thing you had on: your dress. And he wasn't confident he could handle it at all. His cock felt impossibly tight against his pants, aching in such a way that begged for release.

"You're missing the show, baby."

Lando looked at you, gathering your items and slowly walking up the stairs, watching you carefully take the straps off your shoulders, emphasising 'L' on your necklace. His tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, preventing them from tugging upwards when you realised you had to deal with the zipper of your dress.

"Need some help?" Lando asked, catching up to you once again.

You pouted at his amused expression. "Lan... I had a thing going," You whined. You had used a damn string and paperclip to pull the zip up earlier this evening. And now? Now you had a lover who drove a papaya-coloured car for a living with a shit-eating grin.

"How about," Lando started, moving your panties to his other hand to wrap an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, "I help you get out of this dress and you stop being a little minx so I can fuck the tease out of you, hmm?"

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, feeling Lando's bulge push up against your ass. Your skin pricked with a wave of heat that you hadn't felt in a long time. You hear Lando hum in your ear, waiting for a response as he nestled his chin into your collarbone, fingers grazing up and down your body.

"Fine, fine," you relented, turning to grab Lando by the hand before you hurried up the last flight of stairs.

"I thought you said patience was a virtue!" Lando huffed, smiling at your pace.

You rolled your eyes. "You're one to speak."

Lando chuckled softly, trailing after you with the same eagerness sparking within him.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You peeked your head into your empty hallway, hand still around Lando's. There were four flats on your floor. Two of which were empty thanks to the cost of living crisis and the other, your neighbour, who was often out of town.

In other words, you were free to be as loud as you want.

With as much humbleness and reserve you could manage, you tamely walked down your hallway, hearing Lando mumble something about how your hallway belonged in a horror movie.

"Gee... that's so sexy, Lan. Keep going," you dryly encouraged, turning to grab the keys in your purse.

Lando jutted out his hand, letting your keys dangle from his fingers in front of your face. "I'm just saying," he said defensively with the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in amusement.

You shook your head, failing to suppress your grin as you shoved the key into the door, waiting to hear the obscene click. Opening the door, you smiled timidly at the state of your flat. "Well... this is my humble-ish abode... that you've seen a bit too much recently," you teased.

Lando laughed softly, following after you, hands still full. "What are you on about? I love your flat. It's so... you."

You turned to Lando with a raised brow, watching him put down all the trinkets you had left him on the shelf near the door. "Is that a diss I hear?"

The driver rolled his eyes, walking towards you with a knowing glint to his eyes. His arms stretched out, travelling to your waist before pulling you in. You could feel his breath graze past your skin as he held your gaze. Lando's voice was a mere whisper in your ears. "I mean I love you... so I love your cute little flat."

"Oh," you lamely said before blinking back to reality. "I mean not 'oh' like 'oh,' I mean like 'oh... I love you too?" You questioned, slowly dying on the inside at your stupidity.

Lando grinned at your pained expression. "Nice save," he murmured against your lips. "Now... where were we?"

"Hmm?" You idly queried, unable to take your eyes off of his lips. "Uh," you cleared your throat, "something about fucking the tease out of me?"

"Ah, yes," Lando agreed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "You have been pretty awful today. First walking in with João..." He clicked his tongue, finger trailing the underside of the strap of your dress before pulling it down your shoulder. "Then this dress, fuck."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling his fingers skim past your neck as he walked around you to meet the zip you had been battling all day. Lando's mouth met the side of your ear while he pressed the cold metal of your zip down and against your back.

"And now your little theatrics. It's not very nice of you, sweetheart. I've waited so long... you're on my mind every second of every day. I think about you so much, I don't think it's healthy. But..."

Lando stopped himself, lips brushing against your burning skin.

"But?" You repeated, turning your body to face him.

"But... I don't care," He finished with a small nonchalant shrug and a balance of softness and cockiness drowning his voice.

You didn't waste a second, moving your hands to Lando's neck, pushing yourself forward as you pressed your lips to his.

You could feel his hands immediately wrap around your waist. Your skin pricked with a familiar burn, warming at the touch of Lando's fingers skimming your bare skin.

Even though a fire was whirling within you, your body still had managed to create waves and waves of goosebumps as the hairs on your skin stood straight. You could feel Lando's tongue dart out, nudging your mouth to open a bit more to explore every crevice.

A mix of a grunt and high-pitched moan slipped past Lando's lips making your thighs clench at the tingling rippling through your core. You were positively going to combust.

Lando was equally sure he was going to lose it. He had waited so long to feel your lips and the sheer happiness he felt right now... it couldn't even compare to his imagination. To feel his teeth graze your lips while his one hand roamed your bare back, ever slowly inching towards your ass... the other tangled in your soft hair... he was almost afraid to admit he daydreamed of this.

His pants, fuck, they were tight before but this was something else entirely. He was in a some sort of twisted pain as your hands moved from his neck and crept up the hem of his shirt, brushing his taut torso, remembering exactly where all his little moles were.

"Shit..." Lando sighed out, holding you tighter against him. His lips moved along your bare shoulder, meeting the nape of your neck to attack it with purple written love letters. "Get on the bed, baby," he managed to get out, half-focusing on the honey-drenched moans falling from your lips while he waddled you towards the bed.

You sat back on the mattress breathlessly, chest heaving up and down as you watched Lando eye you down with a lust-driven softness. A gentle smile sprawled across your face, making him gulp cautiously. Coyly, you stood up, barely a few centimetres away from him as you peeled off your dress as slowly as you good.

You could hear Lando's breath hitch before he sucked in a sharp intake of air, eyes fixed on your breasts. They looked lonely... as if they were waiting for his touch. His tongue rested on the side of his mouth, tilting his head while your dress skimmed past your thighs and off your legs.

Lando's head fell back. "Fuck... you are going to be death of me." He shook his head, inching back towards you.

The small laugh that had fallen from your lips made him smile. He watched as your fingers pinched the edge of his shirt, lifting it up at the same rate of his arms flying up. Removing his shirt, your hands danced towards his shorts but Lando's hand caught your wrist.

You flickered your eyes to Lando, eyebrows raised at the pained look on his face. "If I let you do it, I swear to God, I might cum right here."

Your eyes slightly widened at his words, mouth all of a sudden feeling dry. You raised your hands in defence, watching him try to take off his pants in amusement.

"Don't think I don't see that smug smile on your face, sweetheart," He murmured, blue eyes averting to you. A smug smile of his own formed on his face as his arms caged you in, your knees bucking at the feel of the mattress or Lando – you couldn't tell.

Lando's head dipped into the valley of your breasts, hot breath letting goosebumps litter your bare skin. "I missed these sweet tits of yours," he murmured, watching his own hand skim past your pebbled nipple, ears perking at the quiet gasp coming from your mouth.

You could feel the ghost of Lando's smile against your skin before his hand stretched to fondle the soft mound of tissue while his tongue wrapped around the other, circling the hard nipple with his warm saliva.

You let out a small sigh, hand immediately travelling to the mop of brown curls Lando sported as you revelled in his touch. You could tell what he was doing. Making up for lost time. Ensuring you knew how much he missed you by spending the uttermost time and care with your breasts alone.

His thumb and tongue moved in synchronised circles, paying attention to each nipple, savouring the way your body arched into his touch and the small sighs and whimpers of admission dancing into his ears.

Detaching his tongue from your nipple, Lando looked at the sight of the ample flesh of your tits filling his hands. Fuck... it drove him insane.

Your body quivered as Lando's lips trailed down the valley of your breasts, a line of purples following right after his wet kisses. "Lando," you hissed, "People are going to know."

A huff of amusement crawled from his throat. "I know."

Lando watched you roll your eyes while he came down to pussy. His hands glided across your thighs, gripping your plump skin as a wave of tingles bubbled within your core.

Planting a small kiss on the side of your thigh, he flickered his blue eyes to you. "Think I still need to get that brat out of you," he murmured before gently pulling at your labia.

He watched your folds clench around nothing as his hot breath grazed the surface of your pussy. Lando smiled knowingly. "You are simply drenched for me, sweetheart."

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his finger slide down your slick folds, going up to ever so slightly to gather your arousal and graze the sensitive bundle of nerves near the top. A gasp left your mouth, making him grin.

You feel his fingers move away from your heat, skimming your thighs while hearing the hitched breaths fall from Lando's mouth as if he was the one affected. You could see his eyes travel across your body, wondering where to start. He wanted everywhere.

His mop of curls on his head dipped down, warm lips pressed up against the valley of your breasts to your stomach. And as he reached your navel, he could hear your shallow breaths, the ghost of his smile tickling your skin.

Heat prickled every inch of your body and yet a shiver of what could only be explained as some sort of electric current ran through you. You felt a tap on your thigh, bringing you back to reality.

"Don't lose me now, baby," Lando murmured softly, hands gripping your hips to yank your body closer to him.

Before you could breathe, before you could imagine the mere consequences of the way Lando's breath felt against your core, his mouth dived down into your folds.

Your mouth fell open as your head found comfort in the mattress. His tongue grazed over your clit with a tantalisingly slow pace, letting your legs tremor in his grasp. You could feel his lips curve, smirk practically dripping off his face.

You opened your mouth, preparing a witty comeback only for a string of moans to come out as Lando traversed deeper into your burning core, taking on every crevice and fold.

A groan escaped Lando's lips, pulling away for a brief second. "I missed how good you taste, so fucking sweet," he sighed out, delirious.

Your toes curled at his words, hands reaching for his head as he returned back to your pussy, Lando's own hands moving to your inner thighs to expose you entirely to him. His tongue had found your clit once again, unleashing his torturous attack.

"Oh God," you cried out, hips bucking themselves further into his tongue as the signs of your upcoming climax approached. You didn't think you could last any longer, especially not when Lando slipped two fingers inside you, making you clench around around him.

"Fucking hell," Lando rasped against your clit, speeding up his pace. His fingers move in and out of you rapidly, tongue flat against your clit as you trembled in his hands.

The dazed look in your eyes, the sunken teeth, the clenching of your walls...

Lando eagerly pulled you closer if possible, hoisting a leg over his shoulder, sending an entirely different realm of pleasure across your body.

"Lando!" You sobbed, hands tightening their grip on his hair.

He moaned, maintaining his pace. "Come, baby. All for me, come on. Show me how good I make you feel."

You felt undone at his words, body convulsing as the big waves of your orgasm hit you hard. Your walls clenched and pulsed around his fingers.

Lando couldn't tell whether his heart was fluttering or whether his cock was throbbing, probably both, but he had once committed this ruined sight of you to his memory not too long ago, and God, he had been dying to see it again.

The strain in Lando's voice was impossible to miss. So was his aching cock standing straight against his stomach. "I need you... so bad," he murmured, pussy-drenched lips against your ear.

You couldn't help but shudder at his words. Only minutes had passed since your orgasm but fuck, you needed him as much as he needed you.

With a series of nods, you beckoned him over, bringing your lips to his for a brief minute. Your hands trailed over his chest, grazing the back of his neck before finding their place on his upper back.

A low sigh blew from Lando's lips, his eyes trailed to where your hips met before coming back up to meet yours. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in your touch before holding your gaze firmly. He called your name. "I love you. So fucking much. You're all I want... forever."

His confession made you warm all over. You could feel your eyes water slightly. With a tight smile, you brought your hand to caress his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch. "I love you too."

Those words were music to his ears. Without a second to waste, his hips moved, cock thrusting into you so deeply that you can't help but let out a small cry of pleasure, hand covering your mouth.

Lando wanted to fold. Right there and then. You felt so good around him. As though heaven had found him. But all he could do is moan your name, feeling you tightly clench around his cock.

His eyes flitted to your face when he heard your muffled moans. His arms stretched out to keep your hands away from your mouth and on his back. "Let me hear you, baby. Yell my name. Tell me how good you feel."

Your body jolted as his thrusts became deeper and somehow, you felt like you were only becoming more aroused. Your skin felt sticky, riddled with sweat as your slickness coated your thighs.

Lando groaned at the sight. You were making a mess of him, dripping all over his cock as your eyes became lost in a haze. His hand reached out, jutting your chin to make sure you were looking at him. "Keep looking at me. Look at what you do to me."

Lando's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you over so you straddled his cock, riding him into a new oblivion.

And you did look. You watched him fuck into you with a speed and depth you had missed so dearly. You watched him memorise you as though he was afraid to forget you. You watched him make love to you.

Your second orgasm began to build up as the obscene sounds of your skin slapping against one another filled the room. Your body shook at the feel of Lando's thumb against your clit, rubbing you as he entirely ruined you.

"Lando, I–" you mewled, unable to get the words out.

"I know," Lando responded, holding the same level of restrain and pleasure as his own climax built up. "Cum," he almost cried out, "please."

You could barely keep your eyes open as the tight coil in your stomach snapped. You trembled in his grasp, cumming all over his cock, hips almost unstoppable as they chased those waves.

The tight clench your orgasm brought around his cock sent him over. Lando fingers sunk into your skin. "Fuck, where, tell me where," he begged, impossibly close.

You quivered, still in the remaining moments of your orgasm. "Inside," you panted, "please, Lan." There's nothing more that I want than your cum."

Lando rasped, hips stilling at your words as his cum spilled into you, filling you in all the the right places. His grip on you loosened as he slowly pulled out of you.

You shivered at his fixated gaze of your mixed cum seeping out of your pussy. Lando fell into the bed, closing his eyes, muttering things under his breath to restrain himself. You held in your laughter as he left the bed, almost painfully, to grab a wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up.

You kissed his cheek gently, thanking him as he finished cleaning all the witness dripping your thighs. Putting aside the towel, you pulled the duvet over you and Lando, nestling up to his warm body.

You could feel the softness of your mattress and duvet conform around your body while Lando rested beside you, taking you in. You mended your brows at the sudden silence. "Penny for your thoughts?" You queried, poking his cheek before rubbing his face with the pad of your thumb.

Lando leaned into your touch, warm blue eyes grazing over your face. "I missed you," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the side of your hand. "Every day without you felt miserable and now... I can't believe you're actually in front of me. "

Your eyes softened. "I'm here," you reassured, "forever."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[hatsbuckets]

TF 141 x Reader - Shower Hide Out

Short Version: You're a member of 141. Mission's over. The boys come hide while you're taking a shower. (Hide? Hide from what?)

WC: ~1300

Pairings: (implied) TF141 x (afab) reader | teensy weensy Ghost x Soap

Warnings: none? (nudity ig, but nobody does or sees anything,) extremely brief mention of drowning. (lmk if I need to add)

A/N: my first little cod fic I'm posting! teehee. Just something cute and domestic and simple that I thought of while showering. LMAO I did this instead of writing my thesis today so plz enjoy. More like this maybe to come?

It was late and a shower was long overdue.

You were grateful to finally be at a place where you could shower. It'd been days out on a mission and the sight of the little house was like heaven on Earth. Laswell had gotten it together, and you all met her there with little ceremony, but plenty of thanks. You each made sure each of you were good and not dying before sitting in with Kate.

You always got a little protective over the boys after the high stress, near-death-experiences you go through together. And they were the same with you, and each other, in their own little ways. Sometimes you weren't sure why, but you rolled with it. Soap always made a point to talk with you, helping you and himself destress. Ghost made sure you weren’t hurt, you would do the same, then he’d say something about getting better. You and Gaz liked to eat together, making sure you were both fed. Price was quiet, bringing you tea or coffee in the later hours, but never quiet enough to avoid a bit of banter. Sometimes it was a hearty combination of them all at the same time, and sometimes it was just one or two. Whatever it was, you were grateful. 

This current mission had resulted in you and Johnny both nearly drowning to death, but you were okay, and so was he. Naturally, it left all parties a little on edge. Soap didn’t shut up the whole drive to safety, keeping spirits light while Ghost and Gaz tried to keep the two of you from freezing to death. Laswell was worried too. She insisted, in her stoic way, on getting you all safe and rested for a bit before moving forward.

This wasn't the first time you'd all holed up in a small house, and it wouldn't be the last, but it was definitely one of the quieter nights of the five of you together. Laswell and Price wasted little time before discussing and debriefing. The rest of you were hardly as interested, tired mostly, but pulled in all the same.

Finally, they let you head up to the shower first, even though Johnny was shaking from the chill of still being in damp clothes.

"Go on, lass," he had chattered. "I'll b-be just fine."

Ghost had to force another towel around him before you were satisfied.

Upstairs, you twisted the shower on, letting the heat steam as you undressed. You peeled away a still damp uniform and even damper socks. Ew.

You'd need a full body scrub down to feel better.

You stepped in, pulling the curtain closed and letting the hot water soak through your hair and warm you to the bone. It hurt a little at your toes, the way warm water does as blood rushes around you again. You started with shampoo, lathering your hair intentionally, but not in a hurry.

As you rinsed you swore you heard the door creak. Then a relaxed sigh confirmed your suspicion.

"Soap?" You guessed quietly.

The Scot hummed in response.

You didn't mind. It wouldn't be the first time he'd stood by while you showered. Though normally it was because neither of you wanted whatever intriguing discussion you were having to be interrupted. Another of those weird little, post-mission comforts. This was just him, sitting quietly, enjoying the warmth of the steamed washroom.

You heard him kick his boots off as you put conditioner in your hair. Then another sound of the door hinges. At first you thought he'd left-weirdo, just drop your boots and leave- but then you realized from a mumbling grunt that he had not left.

You heard the shuffling of movement and the quietest unidentifiable remark from Soap, and then just the sound of the water again.

"Soap?" You asked, confirming if the man was still there.

He hummed again. "Still 'ere. Got some company too."

If you had to guess, it was probably Ghost. You could imagine him plopped down on the floor at Soap's feet, leaning against the man's legs. Again, it didn't bother you as you rinsed the product from your hair. Ghost had seen you roughed up, helped patch you up enough that his presence couldn't bother you. You'd done a bit of the same for him. Those weird little comforts.

Knowing they were on the other side of the dark curtain, dirty and wet and tired, but alive, settled a bit of the hammer of worry in your chest. It warmed you from the inside as much as the water on the outside.

The door hinges creaked again, announcing another arrival. You were grinning now.

"Captain scare ya off, Gaz?" Ghost teased.

There was a moment where he didn't respond. "This is just the warmest room in the house, with how much water she's using."

You laughed lightly as you lathered up. Whatever he was in here for you also didn't mind. You trusted Kyle with your life, and with the times he's seen you drunk after celebratory bar nights, you couldn't chase him off now. Those little comforts.

Before you could rinse off, the door creaked a fourth time. You thought maybe one of them had left. Maybe Kyle. But instead, you heard an unmistakable grumble.

"You moppets. Let the girl shower in peace." Price's voice was low but laced with a tease.

"And wot brings you 'ere, Captain?" Soap poked right back.

You rinsed yourself, a laugh escaping you as you thought about the four grown men occupying the small space. Little comforts. 

"What's so funny?" Ghost's voice was light, or at least as light as it could be when he wasn't too stressed.

"Are you all hiding from Kate?" You teased.

When your question was met with silence, you had your answer. Your laugh burst from you as you turned the water off. It subsided only as the chill of the air entered the isolated space as you extended your hand through the small gap between curtain and wall. There was a moment of shuffling and scrambling, then a towel landed in your hand.

"You'd be hidin' too if you were down there listening to her plans, that woman never rests," Soap's voice grumbled. It made you laugh again as you wrapped the towel around your body. You finally pulled open the curtain to the scene before you.

Like you'd guessed, Soap was seated on the toilet, boots off in the pile next to your own, his clothes still damp. Ghost was seated on the floor in front of him, still fully geared. Kyle had at least taken off his equipment in a different room, sitting on the floor against the sink counter. And Price, also still fully dressed, was leaning just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

While the other men glanced away in their respectful little ways, Soap watched as you stepped out, earning a thump on the leg from Ghost.

"What?" Soap cried. "She's'not naked!"

You laughed, stepping over Ghost and Gaz's legs as you made your way to the door. You rested your free hand on Price's shoulder and his eyes met yours.

"Surely Kate's new ideas aren't that bad," you teased.

The man shrugged, a smile crinkling his eyes. "You can go find out."

You huffed a tiny laugh. You could feel all their eyes on you now, so you made a point to linger just a moment longer. "One of you start showering; you all smell."

You headed for your own room as Soap's gripes and protests hit your ears. You understood something along the lines of “wouldn’t if you’d not taken all the water.” You smiled to yourself. They were protective, always in that weird little way of theirs after the high stress, near-death-experiences you all go through together. Shared little weird-not weird, just your own-comforts to make sure you were all alive and well. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Thanks for reading.

[spicy-apple-pie]

Can someone PLEASE write a Cass joins the Batfam early fic???

She and Jason are the same age and this is kinda the first time she meets someone her age. When he reaches out a hand to shake, she fucking Judo flips him and pins him to the ground.

Bruce quickly gets Cassandra off and gently explains to her that Jason is a friend and we don’t hurt friends. Jason wants to be mad, but she looked absolutely petrified when Bruce raised his voice and actually really ashamed that she hurt him. So he forgives her pretty quickly.

Jason also loves reading to her. They start with picture books, as they allow her to connect the images with words and such. But she’s a quick learner and soon can read books without pictures.

All according to Jason’s plan.

He quickly introduces her to his favourite books and he can babble on and on about them. He makes sure to ask Cass open ended questions so she feels encouraged to talk with him.

Dick comes for a visit and absolutely freaks out on Bruce. Like what do you MEAN you got another one? Why? I thought we talked about this?

Cass takes a while to warm up to Dick. But decides he’s her favourite after he bribes her with ice cream.

Bruce doesn’t know if it’s because Jason doesn’t like to be touched a whole lot, but he swears children are not as clingy as Cass. Bruce gave her a hug one time, and Cass has been on that dopamine rush ever since. All sense of personal space went right out the window when she experienced touch that wasn’t meant to hurt her. If Bruce is working in his office, Cassandra will come in, not address Bruce in anyway, and squirm her way onto his lap and just sit there.

She does this to like, everyone. She’ll lay next to Jason as he reads. She holds Alfred’s hand while he cleans. Once she straight up climbed Dick to sit on his shoulders because he held her up there one time and she just made herself at home.

This helps Jason become more comfortable with physical affection too. Jason will wake up from a nightmare to Cass staring at him.

“Agh! What the fuck, Cass!?”

“Scared.”

“What?”

“You are scared. Frightmare.”

“Yeah. I had a nightmare.”

“Nightmare.” Cass corrects herself.

“Yeah, am alright now though.” Jason goes to roll over and Cass stops him.

“Liar.”

“What? I’m not lying!” Okay, maybe it would take him a good hour to finally calm down enough to sleep, but he’s fine.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Cassandra teased him.

“Seriously, Cass I’m fi-“ Cass drags him out of bed and marches him to Bruce’s room.

Bruce sleepily questions what two bodies are doing his bed instead of the usually single body (again, Cass has no concept of personal space so often sleeps with Bruce).

“Jason had a nightmare.” Cass says as she forcibly tucks Jason in beside him.

“Oh, Jaylad.” Bruce rolls over. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah but…” Jason thinks about going to his bedroom, but Cass is already cuddled up beside him. “Is it okay if I sleep in here for tonight?”