#i can only do so much angst in one night XD

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Can you write something with young!Maverick?

Something like where they meet and she has heard about his reputation (he's the type to only stay a few nights and then move on to the next girl). So, when one night, he approaches her all smiley and flirty (and maybe a little shy and cute) she thinks that's exactly what he wants from her - to take her home for a night of sex just to move on to other people the next day. And, even though she has developed feelings for him, she accepts it, albeit with no expectation that she will become anything other than just another one he spent a night with or that it was anything other than just sex and fun. So, imagine her surprise when he starts acting the exact opposite towards her from what she expected - always wanting to be with her everywhere, skipping nightlife to be with her, being super clingy and loving, etc, etc. She doesn't believe he has feelings for her but she just can't understand his behavior. She starts to feel overwhelmed because her feelings for him only get worse and she fears the day when he will stop giving her that kind of attention (maybe she thinks this is just a harmless game for him, where she is the shiny new toy he is getting to know until she no longer interests him that much). She confronts him, confesses her feelings, gets angry and tells him to stay away. He desperately tries to tell her about his feelings for her, that he has always been in love with her and has tried to get closer to her through everything he has done because he didn't know what else to do. She doesn't believe him and it's basically him desperately trying to prove his love for her and all that cute stuff with a really happy ending 💖❣️

I also imagined a lot of cinematic chase scenes, inspired by that sand chase in There Are Rules and the f14 airport scene in Altitude 🤣🤣 so there's that. Lots of desperate, all-consuming love, perhaps ending with a love making scene that includes it all? Making desperate, passionate and hungry love. Someone so in love that they don't even know what to do, whether to cry or laugh.

You could also include a classic “misunderstanding scene” that unearths deep-rooted jealousy, but is it not what it seems? Lol it's all very cliché but honestly, it's the best shit in the world when it's written by someone who knows what they're doing, I live for desperate love.

I know this is extra long but hopefuly you'll be able to make it, I simply love your writing. Thank you. ❣️❣️

Oooh what a fun request! Thank you so much for sending this in!! I hope you don't mind, I kind of see this as a series rather than a one-shot, just because there's a lot to cover XD

Best of the Bad Boys

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

CW: mild angst, swearing, fluff, allusions to sex

WC: ~2000

Masterlist

“That’s Maverick. Maverick Mitchell.”

You tear your gaze away from the animated man near the bar, throwing his arms around wildly as he describes some aerial trick he’s no doubt performed just that morning. You know exactly who he is, and yet, you turn to your friend jadedly and say, “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

She gives you a sardonic smile and skeptically scoffs. “Right. Like your father’s never mentioned his name.”

You shrug, glancing back at the pack of fighter jocks crowding the front of the establishment, each one admittedly a high-flier in his own right – pun intended. But Maverick… Maverick still manages to stand out. “He talks about all of them,” you reply nonchalantly, adding, “It’s not like I sit there and listen.”

“Why are you staring, then?”

You blink away, executing an elaborate eyeroll as you do, and fix your friend with a serious expression. “I can’t look?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“They’re nice to look at.”

Your friend nods in approval. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Doesn’t matter what his name is. What any of their names are. They’ll be gone in a couple of weeks.”

“Perfect fling material, if you ask me,” your friend wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“No thanks,” you respond with a grimace. Every couple of months, a fresh assortment of aviators arrives at Top Gun, ready to take on the world. Already the finest pilots in their respective squadrons, they are sent to train at the most elite fighter tactics school on the Pacific seaboard. Their egos soar higher than their jets and their heads are always in the clouds.

You see the various groups come and go – the program is only several weeks long – but it’s always entertaining to watch them transform over the course of their training. It’s why you frequent the officer’s club rather than any of the other pubs in the area. That and the cheap drinks.

“Probably for the best,” your friend sighs dramatically. “He’s got a reputation.”

You purse your lips, watching Maverick smile at the waitress as she distributes another round of drinks among the officers. You know about that too. “Point him out to me,” you say, as though you have no idea whom the conversation is about.

Your friend leans into the table and discreetly aims her finger in Maverick’s direction. “The pretty one,” she mutters.

You let out a small chuckle. “They’re all pretty.”

Your friend shakes her head. “Not that pretty.”

“Not that pretty,” you agree musingly. You make an effort not to fall for the top guns of Top Gun and, until Maverick, you haven’t had much trouble upholding that rule. But everything about him, from the squint of his eyes when he laughs to the radiant warmth of his smile, not to mention his muscular arms, makes your heart skip a beat.

And then he pivots in his stool and his gaze, coincidentally, lands on you. You hastily look away, hoping he didn't noticed you staring, and start to fiddle with the pearls of your necklace. Several moments later, you slowly lift your eyes to check if he’s still looking.

Your heart nearly springs up into your throat when you see that he is. His mouth quirks upward slightly before he gives you the kind of smile that says he’s confident you’ve already noticed him.

You don’t smile back. You’re not about to engage in this dance. You do not associate with pilots. Your friend, on the other hand, is all for the naval aviator experience.

“He’s looking at you,” she whispers excitedly.

“Stop,” you warn her sternly. “I’m not interested.”

“Well, I am,” she urges. “Let’s go talk to them. I like the blond one.” But before you can refuse for a second time, your friend mutters, “Oh god, never mind. They’re coming to us!”

You look at her in alarm and then gulp as several of the men from the bar approach your table. You glance up at them with raised eyebrows.

“Hello,” Maverick says, looking directly at you. He presses his lips together into a vexingly endearing sideways smirk.

When you don’t respond, your friend chimes in excitedly. “Hello, hello! Welcome!” she exclaims, as though she’s receiving guests for a dinner party. “I’m Susan. Hello!”

You eye her moodily as she motions for the newcomers to join the two of you at the table.

“Mind if I sit here?” Maverick asks, pointing to the seat next to you.

You meet his gaze reluctantly. “Knock yourself out,” you respond coolly. You’re still annoyed that he caught you staring and you intend to make it clear that you are not just some girl he can charm into bed.

Maverick’s smirk widens somewhat, as though he’s not quite buying the act. He takes a seat beside you while one of his friends starts chatting up Susan who seems very much to be enjoying the attention.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Maverick says, leaning over slightly so that he could speak more discreetly. “Slider, here, wanted to get to know your friend. And I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch him crash and burn.”

You glance at Maverick dubiously. “That’s why you’re here?”

Maverick looks at you, then, and his gaze drifts languidly over the features of your face. “Would you prefer a different reason?”

Ignoring the frantic stutter of your heart as his eyes settle on yours, you shrug and look away, taking a sip of your drink. If only he knew who your father was, he wouldn’t be so bold. “I would prefer honesty.”

“Okay,” he says, resting his forearm on the table. “Honestly? I couldn’t leave without meeting you.”

You glance back at him hesitantly, not sure how to react. “Why?” you ask, trying to control the embarrassing tremor in your voice.

Maverick drops his head and lets out a small chuckle. “I just couldn’t,” he says. “That’s as honest as I’m going to get.”

You eye him tentatively, wishing he weren’t so dangerously good-looking. His sheepish smile almost makes you forget that he dates women for sport.

But the longer Maverick sits by your side, the less important his apparent promiscuity becomes. And when the two of you wind up in the back alley behind the officer’s club, wrapped in each other’s arms, you aren’t overly concerned about the future outlook of this particular liaison. Something about the way he kisses your neck convinces you that some moderate heartache might just be worth it.

Maverick weaves his fingers through yours and lifts his arm over your head, pressing the back of your hand into the brick wall behind you. He cradles the back of your head with his other hand as his mouth moves hungrily beneath your jawline. You let out an audible sigh and he pins you even more firmly against the wall, as though the sound you made has aroused him further.

And despite your every intention to just kiss for a while before taking your leave – because you don’t do flyboys – Maverick has managed to change your mind without speaking a word. You want to tell him that you’re flattered but no thank you, instead, you breathe, “come back,” when he finally pulls away.

Maverick smirks at you and tugs on the hand he’s still holding so that you’re drawn directly into his arms. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers.

You wrap your arms around his body, flattening yourself against him like you mean to be absorbed. And he folds around you like a cocoon, his arms enveloping you so securely, you barely have to hold yourself upright. He moves backward, pulling you after him toward his bike.

…

“We fucked,” you tell Susan the moment she puts her car in park.

She looks over at you with wide eyes and an even wider mouth as her jaw literally drops. “You and Maverick?” she shrieks.

You wince anxiously and look around, making sure nobody heard her exclamation. Then you roll up your window and nod for her to do the same. “Keep it together, Susan,” you hiss. “We’re behind enemy lines.”

Susan grimaces apologetically but the remorse is fleeting and, before you know it, she’s eagerly bouncing in her seat. “As if you’ve been blabbering on about a fender bender for half an hour and drop this bomb right before you have to go!” she whispers feverishly. You give her a grievous look which she expertly ignores. “Was he good?”

You sigh. “He was fine,” you say curtly, still uncomfortable sharing the details of last night’s encounter while sitting in the parking lot outside Hangar 1.

Susan appears disappointed. “Just fine?”

You glance around once more and then respond quietly, “He was very good.”

“I fucking knew it!” Susan yelps, tapping you on the knee excitedly. “Tell me more!”

“Later,” you say. “I have to meet my dad, remember?”

She nods. “I’ll pick you up in half an hour?”

“Thanks, Suz,” you respond. “You’re a life saver.”

…

Your father, Top Gun’s very own Viper, paces back and forth as you sit in one of the chairs before his desk. He’s trying to keep his cool. “You sure you’re not hurt?” he asks again.

You nod tiredly. You’ve had a hell of a day.

Viper sighs moodily and shakes his head at you as though he’s not convinced.

It’s at exactly this moment that there’s a knock on his door and, as you begin to rise from your chair to leave your father to his duties, Maverick enters his office.

You freeze, meeting his gaze in alarm. Maverick, in turn, stops in his tracks, gaping at you from the doorway, forgetting even to salute his superior.

“Lieutenant,” Viper says. “You need something?”

Maverick, who seems unable to look away from you, stammers, “Do – I – uh…”

“Maverick,” Viper says sternly, and Maverick finally glances in his direction.

“Commander Metcalf,” Maverick says, a little dazed as though he’s surprised to find Viper in his own office.

“Speak, Lieutenant. I don’t have all day,” Viper grumbles, still irritable from the news he’s received during your visit.

Maverick, who seems unable to recall why he’s even come, gulps nervously and glances back at you again.

“Okay, well, thanks dad,” you say quickly. “I’ll be off now.”

Maverick’s face slowly morphs into a visage of terror as he realizes who you are and what, in fact, it means for him to have had relations with the commander’s daughter. He watches you in horror, beginning to mouth the word ‘dad’ before he catches himself and leaves his mouth hanging open on the ‘a’.

“How will you get home?” Viper asks you, not paying attention to Maverick’s reaction.

“Susan’s picking me up,” you respond.

Viper sighs again. Then, he sighs in Maverick’s direction. “Maverick, meet my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, this is Lieutenant Mitchell, recent Top Gun graduate and a helluva pilot. Hopefully, soon to be one of our newest instructors. If he finally remembers why he’s here, that is.”

Maverick glances anxiously between your face and Viper’s and then holds his hand out to you. “Pleased to meet you,” he says courteously, his eyes resting on yours for a significant moment.

You give him a tight smile and then give your father a hug. “I’ve got to go.”

Viper shakes his head all over again. “I still can’t believe that bastard hit you.”

“Who hit you?” Maverick looks over at you sharply, suddenly on high alert.

“Nobody – the other driver.” You exhale wearily, not too keen on repeating the story for a fourth time in one day. “I was in an accident –”

“Are you okay?” Maverick asks, immediately taking a step toward you.

“I’m fine, totally fine,” you assure him, taking several steps backward until you feel the doorknob at your spine. “I just need some rest.”

“We’ll sort out the car tomorrow,” Viper says.

“Hey, at least it wasn’t a jet, right?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Neither Viper not Maverick is amused by your humor, however, so you reach behind and pull open the door.

“Okay, well, bye dad! Mav – uh – Lieutenant Mitchell.”

Maverick stares after you as you retreat behind the door, still somewhat speechless.

“Tell Susan to drive carefully!” your father calls.

“Will do!” you call back.

Finally, Maverick speaks again. “I, uh” – he clears his throat – “I could give her a ride, sir.”

You pause in the doorway while your father purses his lips, considering the offer. Joke’s on him, of course, since Maverick has already given you one – just last night.

Read Part 2

Maverick Tag List:

I have no idea when this list got so long but the rest of it will be in the comments. Hope I got everyone, let me know if I missed you! As always, let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in my Mav works!

@wandering-wah

@callsign-sunshine

@ghost-heart34

@birdy-bat-writes

@matya4

@wkndwlff

@nyx2021

@bellamy1998

@oliviah-25

@alexxavicry

@army24--7

@thefandomimagines

@dracosluvbot

@smit41

@scenesofobx

@Criminalmindsandmarvel

@lunamoonbby

@malums-trash-can

@malindacath

@karleetakeenan

@callsign-echo

@toothemoonanddback

@broketraveler87

@atarmychick007

@shanimallina87

@creativitybeware

@xoxabs88xox

@Yoyop7

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

@rrocky0ah

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@lilianashomaresparza

@latetedslesetoiles

@Elenavampire21

@starberryhorse

@ginger-gabsq

@sarcastic-sourwolf

@risingtripletaurus

@callsignmaverick5

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@hermaeusmorax

@littlebadariell

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

@iamabeautifulperson18

@living-in-my-imagination88

@wintercap89

@mavrellover91

@gingerbreadandpaper

[torukmaktoskxawng]

run away with me

Pairing: Nor/Sarentu!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for Avatar Frontiers of Pandora, fluff, angst, mentions of brainwashing and residential school trauma

Taglist: @mooniequeen

A/N: No one has requested me to write for AFoP so I decided to take matters into my own hands *cracks knuckles* Let's get to work.

This is basically my rendition of the cutscene you see when playing the game, after the title card. I made it lean more toward the angsty, romance play that we were robbed of when the game finally came out XD Enjoy!

Part 2

When So'lek told you that Nor had left Resistance HQ to have some time to think, you knew you needed to seek him out.

Using your new abilities and talents to track him down, it didn't shock you when you found Nor on one of the highest cliffs near the base of their new home. You remember he made a comment earlier about how there were more colors on Pandora than he remembered and how he had no names for them. You suspected he'd be all the way out here, admiring those colors and maybe trying to invent new names for them.

He didn't react when you approached the small fire he made, likely expecting you to come find him. He turned to face you with lowered ears and a forlorn look in his eyes, "What must our ancestors think of us? Do you think they pity us? Sad to see what we've become?"

"We're still Sarentu."

"Teylan barely speaks our tongue, but then... he always preferred human words."

"Alma says we all need time to adjust."

"Alma is not Na'vi." He growled lowly, turning away to kneel down in front of the fire.

You weren't deterred by his attitude, knowing Nor better than you sometimes knew yourself. He felt things stronger than most. He was passionate about what or how he felt and he wasn't afraid to admit it, hence why he didn't shy away when he proudly proclaimed his feelings toward you. It was years ago now, just the night before Alma snuck you and your friends into cryosleep to wait out the war. All that time you could've been with Nor... lost to cryosleep.

Nor felt the same loss as well, and that is why he wasn't wasting any more time. When neither of you are out on missions, you're with each other, safe at HQ, making up for lost time. Your relationship is technically still new and can easily be chalked up to young love, but Nor didn't see it that way. He claimed that was the way only Sky People saw it, but not the Na'vi. He wanted to do this right, and in his mind, the only right way was the Na'vi way.

So he asked So'lek for advice, on standard Na'vi customs and what the older man might know about the Sarentu ways to court someone. Nor was determined and straightforward about what he wanted to make sure you only got the best treatment. The Na'vi treatment, something that you deserved to have when you were younger but it was taken from you.

That's what you loved about him, growing up beside him. He reminded you so much of your sister at times with their shared determination as kids, though you refused to continue making that comparison after she died... afraid that if Nor acted too much like Aha'ri, then he would die just like her. You couldn't bear to lose him, too, not after everything Mercer and TAP have done to you.

Even now, as you two stood on top of that cliff, you were afraid of losing him, either to death or to life, should life and fate decide to tear you two apart. You wished you could vocalize your fear to him, but you were never as brave or as straightforward as Nor. You were grateful he had approached you about his feelings first, or else neither of you would've ever known.

Although you were not one with words, you were one with actions, and even Nor knew that you communicated with deeds.

Walking up to him, you slide your hand over his shoulder, and while he doesn't say a word, trapped with the demons in his head, he places his own hand on top of yours, a gesture of gratitude. He was thankful for your comfort, knowing that your way of communicating stems from being touch-starved and you would rather voice your thoughts through your actions instead of just saying them because, to you, that means so much more.

You keep your hand on his shoulder, the warmth of his palm bleeding into your skin while you look up and over the cliffside, admiring the scenery with a sad tone in your voice, "Why did the RDA come back?"

"They wanted more of Pandora," he responds with defeat, "They always do."

"Then we'll need to fight," you express with determination, squeezing his shoulder, "Aha'ri would have wanted us to fight."

You try to pull away, but Nor is suddenly too fast. He grasps your hand, gently, and you pause in your movement. He stands to his full height to gaze into your eyes, trying to relay what he's thinking without saying a word. But he wasn't like you. He wasn't good at sharing his thoughts through actions. He was better at it by talking, so that is what he did.

"Or we could run," he suggests and is quick to continue when the expression on your face falls, "Leave this place. Find somewhere else to call home."

"We've talked about this, Nor," you sigh tiredly, recalling not long ago when you, him, Ri'nela and Teylan were all sitting around a fire as Nor suggested they could all run away together. You express the same thing you said back then, too, "Alma brought us here for a reason. She believes in us."

He snarls, though there isn't much heat behind it, "Alma just wants to control us."

Not even you believed what he was saying, lowering your voice to a comforting whisper, "Alma is not Mercer. She actually cares about us as People."

"She left us."

"She thought we were gone."

He steps closer until he's nearly pressed against your chest, his hands sliding up to gently grasp both sides of your face, entwined in your hair. His voice wavered, desperate eyes staring back into yours, "If it were me instead of her, I would've clawed through the rubble of TAP, and I would've looked forever. Un... until I knew for sure if I lost you or not."

You wanted to be touched by the statement, your heart fluttering in your chest while Nor could no doubt feel your heartbeat, pumping through his hands as they rested near both sides of your neck. You shake your head slightly, "That is different. What Alma feels for us is not the same as... as what you feel for me. For all of us."

He shivered, almost proud that you managed to admit your confidence in his feelings toward you. He leans his forehead against yours, breathing in the same air as you while he matches the intimate moment with a whisper, "Exactly. I can't trust Alma with my family. I can only trust myself or you to take care of the four of us, to ensure we stick together."

You wet your lips when they felt dry, deciding to play into his dream for a little bit, "Suppose we did run away... where would we go?"

'Wherever we want! All of us,' he wanted to say the same thing he told Teylan down by the campfire, but he says it differently with you, "Anywhere, far away from here."

"Just the four of us?"

"The four of us," he confirms with a nod, thinking that he had you convinced, "We'll start our own clan. We'll renew the Sarentu."

"And what will happen when the war eventually finds us?"

Your question drives Nor to freeze, and so you continue, "Either Mercer, RDA, or TAP, it won't matter. They'll find us. You know they will."

He unfroze finally, huffing with determination, "Then we will fight."

"But if we fight now, and we win, then we can leave and we will never have to worry about the Sky People again," your hands moved until they were wrapped around Nor's waist, a bold move to match his own, his fingers still wrapped up in the hair on the back of your neck,

"We would never have to keep running or look over our shoulders ever again," you continue, "If we can end this sooner than later, I will go with you. I'll go wherever you want. But... But I can't leave now knowing what the Sky People are capable of. I can't leave knowing that there would be another child out there whose clan was wiped out and I wasn't brave enough to stop it from happening. I would never forgive myself."

Your words stun him into silence, and the intensity of his gaze causes you to feel shy and embarrassed, lowering your head to avoid him until his hands pause your movement. He gently uses his thumbs to push your chin to tilt back up, and when your eyes meet, he pauses for a moment, his intense eyes scanning your expression before his lips twitch up into a small, fond smile, "Heh."

"What?" You tilt your head, hesitant but smiling as well.

"Nothing. It's just... Aha'ri would be proud of you."

He says it so confidently that you know you believe him, and his words make your heart swell with pride and grief, missing your sister. Nor leans back and digs in the pocket of his pants, "I have something for you."

"What is it?"

He provides a carved stone, bearing the mark you both have on your face to signify your long-lost clan, "It's something to remind you of me, whenever you leave HQ and I cannot follow you. It's also a promise."

"What promise?"

"That if I ever leave, it will only be when you are ready to come with me," he leans back into your space, pressing your foreheads together once more as he closes his eyes, taking in your scent, "This time, my love, I go wherever you go."

You clutch the stone in your hand, wanting the carved mark to brand into your skin as you close your eyes as well. You already plan to tie Nor's stone into the songcord So'lek had given you, and you hope that in time, the songcord will grow, and there will be many more milestones to signify. Milestones that you hope that Nor and your friends will share with you, as Sarentu and as your family.

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

RULES

TAGLISTS

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Hey! Could I request a fic with Bam where the reader is a female skater?

Maggot’s Kiss

Being apart of Tony Hawk’s skate team sounded like a dream to Y/N- that is, until she met Bam, and an innocent thing turns into something darker.

Bam Margera X Fem!Reader

(Fluff, Angst)

2.6k Words

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, jealousy, crude language, very suggestive content, bullying, hate makeouts, nudity, fake dating, flirting, accidental vouyerisim, injury, blood

An: Thank you so much for your request and happy new year!! I decided to combine my love of darker fics and slow burn to create this for your reading pleasure ;) I just love writing banter like what Bam and Y/N have in this fic hehe XD This fic was also inspired by this amazing fic (one of my favorite Jackass fics on this website) by @asskickedbygirl, so please go check her out!! According to one of my beta readers this is one of the steamiest things I have ever written, and that was just based off of the first three paragraphs, so do with that what you will! Anyways, thank you for sending in requests and please keep sending more!! I love to read them and I enjoy writing them even more :)

You hated him. His edgy, crazy, rich boy schtick made you almost embarrassed to be touring with him and the rest of Tony’s team, knowing that no matter what, the spotlight was always on him. It was never Team Adio or Team Element- it was Bam and Company. Every time you saw pre-teens fighting tooth and nail over who got his autograph first or when chicks threw themselves at his feet for a chance to be graced by the presence of his less than average dick (you see a lot being on the same tour bus for two months), you gagged a little. You were seemingly the only person in America that didn’t fall for Bam Margera’s bullshit. Maybe hate was an understatement.

It was the evening before some exhibition you were supposed to do in the parking lot of a mall that you were pondering all of this, seething quietly in the tiny tour bus bunk bed you were trying to get some shut eye in. Trying being the key word, seeing as you weren't very successful at it. Sighing, you wriggled out of your middle row bunk, carefully stepping down and stretching, the claustrophobic sleeping conditions doing nothing for your already not great posture. There was a row of leather seats in the back of the bus you and the guys would usually sit around and play cards in or watch TV when you were on the road that you made your way back to, feeling around in the pitch darkness as a strange chill struck you. The only thing you could see was the glowing, orange tip of a cigarette as you sat down, knowing exactly who it was.

“Close the damn window. S’freezing.” Mumbling, you crossed your legs, tucking your feet into the backs of your knees to warm yourself up. He chuckled, taking another drawl on his cigarette, the embers glowing intensely for a moment before he exhaled, “Might wanna think ‘bout wearin’ a bra ‘round here.” You could practically feel Bam’s eyes on you through the darkness. “I had no idea y’were so fascinated by my tits, Margera.” His last name came out of your mouth like it pained you to say it, acrid on your tongue. Scoffing, you cooed with faux sweetness, sliding closer to him and whispering in his ear, “I-I mean, if you really wanted, y’could give ‘em a feel…” Two can play at that game. Bam found your jab funny, laughing bitterly as he playfully shoved you away, “Oh, no way in hell am I touchin’ you.”

So after a few minutes of small talk, you went back to bed, and so did he, but that exchange didn’t leave your mind. There wasn't an atom in your body that wanted to be felt up by Bam of all people, but you were still pissed that he wrote you off that fast. You saw the girls he took to the bathroom of the tour bus every night and they had nothing on you. Then there was the matter of why he was staring at your tits in the first place. Was he checking you out? Something hot bubbled in your stomach that you were sure was hate at the thought of that. God, it was too late to be thinking like this, you thought, pushing it from your mind and burrowing deeper into your sheets as you tried to get some sleep.

You felt like shit the next day, but the show must go on, three hours of sleep or not. Thankfully, the bus stopped at a Love’s truck stop on the way there- you would be surviving on a gas station coffee and a prayer. Everyone filtered out of the bus, buying snacks and toiletries or whatever they needed. That left you, lingering by the trucker showers with Mike Valley. You split a bag of Hostess Donettes while he waited for his turn, discussing some fight he got into at the bar last night. Smiling, you licked the powdered sugar off of your fingers and joked about it being the breakfast of champions. He laughed, but just as you looked back up from the now empty bag, your eye caught something.

Perfect fucking timing. The door to the men’s swung open at just the right moment for you to see Bam in all his naked glory, thankfully only from behind. It wasn’t rare for you to see him shirtless, especially when you were skating together in the heat of touring season, but you only just now realized how muscular his back was. His tan skin had contours like a bronze sculpture, shitty black fleur de lis tattoos winding down his sides as he toweled away the last glistening remnants of his shower. Before your eyes reached his ass you tore your gaze away, gagging in mock disgust, crumpling up the empty bag and throwing it in the trash.

There was this weird look in Bam’s eye as he handed off the shower key to Tim, taking his place next to you on the beige wall as he pulled his shirt over his head, “You got a little something there.” He gestured to the side of your face and you licked off the remaining powered sugar, cracking a smile as you mumbled, “Oh, fuck off.” Bam held his hands up in mock surrender as you could hear the shower turn on in the other room, the only noise in the otherwise silent hallway, “Hey, no need t’get all defensive! I mean,“ You could feel his long, half-wet hair dangle on your forehead as he leaned in closer, his voice teasing as he reached down to do up his belt, “especially with how you were pervin’ on me in the showers. I’d say you owe me an apology.”

You turned to him, glaring at his stupid grinning face under the fluorescent lights, “First of all, it was an accident. Second of all, I can barely stand the sight of your naked ass without hurling!” He just snickered at your joke that wasn’t even all that untrue as you rolled your eyes to keep them from lingering on the heartagram splayed out on his lower stomach, “And pull your damn pants up. Hope you bust your ass out there today.” Bam shrugged, walking down the skinny hallway, “Sure. Don’t break a nail out there, sweetheart.” That just left you, watching him leave.

The next time you saw pretty boy was under the signing tent, a respite from the blazing sun and asphalt. Your seat just had to be next to Bam, all sweaty and glistening from skating yet somehow not looking as gross as some of the other guys did. MTV star magic, you guessed. You were wondering why the hell you needed to do skate exhibitions in the ass crack of summer when some nerdy looking teen girl handed you a board to sign. Sure, you weren't Tony or Bam, who each had a line of their own nearly twice the size of the rest of the team’s, but you were generally pretty popular. The girl with the glasses was all smiles, leaning in close to you like she was going to ask you something secret, “Hey, I read somewhere that you and Bam, uh- that you had a thing together. Is that really true?”

Bam, who was sitting next to you and well within earshot, scoffed, leaning over with a sneer as you scrawled silver sharpie onto the board, “I’d rather tongue a maggot than Y/N.” You scoffed as you popped the cap back on the pen, “Yeah, the only maggot here’s that thing in your pants.” It was then, as you turned back to the fan who was awkwardly standing there, watching your little lover’s quarrel go down, that you got an idea. A malicious grin spread across your lips as you handed the signed board back to her, “But if you were wondering, I am dating Tim O’Connor. Thanks for being a fan!”

God, if you could see Bam’s face. As much as it pained you to not look over at him, you didn’t, knowing it would be impossible to keep a straight face seeing him all slack jawed. The best part of it was you weren’t dating him- well, not yet, but you didn’t even need to for what you had in mind. Hell, knowing Tim, he’d be game for fucking with Bam any day of the week, even if it mean having to hug and kiss and pretend flirt from time to time. This was the ultimate way to get back at Bam for fucking with you for so long, you thought- your ace in the hole.

You told Tim your plan and he was more than eager to get in on it. You would come up with ideas on the fly whenever you knew Bam was watching, whether it was having you wear one of his shirts on the bus or you giggling when he messed up your hair while you stopped for food on the road, or even the night you shared a bunk- one of your favorites, especially with how pissy Bam looked as he angrily slid the curtain closed on his bed when he saw the two of you. Basically anything you would see in a cheesy romance movie, you did.

But if you thought Bam was a childish asshole before, you had no idea how much worse he could get. No matter where you were, he always seemed to have his eyes on you, glaring under heavy lids across the room. Even though he was still performing well, off the ramps he was this little ball of rage, quietly observing with raised hackles. Gone were the pranks with the team and the playful banter between the two of you. Bam was a tyrant before and even more so now, only a little quieter. He avoided you like the plague, so the only form of communication between the two of you was the sporadic spitting of insults at one another just short of an argument- he’d say something about your appearance, you’d jab at some trick he messed up, and then he’d tell you to fuck off.

His behavior became so uncharacteristic that, at one point, Tony, who was often the only voice of reason, tried to take him to an urgent care because he was obviously sick. Yeah, maybe that’d be a good idea, you thought, a medical professional would probably know how to get that stick out of his ass. No, not in the slightest did you care that you hurt Bammy Boy’s precious little feelings. He was a jerk to everybody, you thought, so he deserved it. It was only after a few weeks of this charade that you started to wonder why the hell he was being such a baby about all this. Bam just seemed to radiate jealousy, especially towards Tim, but there was no way that was the case. It sounded like something straight out of third grade- that boys are mean to girls they like. But, knowing Bam, you couldn’t write that off immediately.

All this tension kept building for a while until it reached a fever pitch. The team had an off day so you all decided to stop by a skate park late in the day to kick back and chill for a few hours before you needed to get back on the road again. The chance to bust out a few tricks without the judging eyes of thousands was a breath of fresh air and everyone was all excited as they filtered out of the bus onto the concrete- that is, everyone except Bam. The little prince of darkness shot you a scowl before he ran off to the bowl with the rest of the guys while you ran off on your own. You were on the mini ramp, enjoying some rare alone time while doing a few simple tricks and thinking about how you could probably run to the Wendy’s across the street to get dinner- one of those baked potatoes would really hit the spot. It was in the midst of that thoughtful silence when you were poised on the coping in a nose stall that the clatter of a board slamming against the ground behind you hit your ears.

You were startled and, turning towards the sound, you felt the ground slip out from under you as you shifted your weight ever so slightly. The world seemed to freeze for a moment as you plummeted to the ground, landing square on the lip with a blunt packing noise, busting your cheek open. The air was knocked out of your lungs as a choked gasp escaped you, reaching up to grasp the raw skin pounded flat against your throbbing cheek bone. Your vision was a blur of orange from the setting sun as you wrenched your eyes open, tilting your head up towards the source of the shadow that looked over you.

“Nice spill.” Struggling to your feet, Bam didn’t even offer to help you, just standing there with his hands in his pockets, watching. Something red hit the concrete when you spit, rubbing off some of the hot liquid from your cheek as your gaze met his, “The fuck’s your problem?” Coughing, your voice was rough, words punctuated by heavy breath as you continued, “You’ve been all pissy for weeks, man. What’s goin’ on?” There was an edge to his voice but he still sounded calm as he reached into his pocket for his pack of Marlboro Lights, still not making eye contact, “Maybe I don’t like seein’ you and Tim eatin’ each others faces- ever thought about that?”

Snatching the cigarette from his fingers, his fingernails painted in that stupid black nail polish he always wore, you growled, “Is that it? Really?” You got all in his angry little face, close enough you could smell the shitty cologne he wore to impress chicks that always made you gag. MTV fuckin pretty boy, always looking his best. Your voice dropped low, murmuring close to his skin, “Maybe you’re just jealous’a him. That he gets to have me and you don’t.” Bam finally met your gaze, staring at you with newfound intensity as the lines between teasing and flirting blurred. He spoke through gritted teeth as he glared down at you bitterly, “Oh yeah? Yeah? You think I can’t fuckin’ have you?” You said nothing, defiant.

Time stood still, but in a second, he was on you. Bam’s hands seized you, tugging you impossibly close to him as his calloused palms traveled up and down your body possessively. It was like something snapped inside of him that was holding him back. You could feel the muscles under his clothes flex as your breath hitched, one of his hands tangling in your hair and pulling you closer. Bam kissed like a starved man, his tongue moving against yours in a lecherous mess of teeth and spit and a little blood on your part. The air swam with a mix of rage and lust as you pulled away from each other after what felt like an hour, catching your breath. Your eyelids fluttered as a weak smile spread across your kiss-sore lips. Whispering under your breath, you leaned your forehead against his, “Holy shit…”

Glancing down at the cigarette still in your hands, you slipped it between your teeth, looking back at him, “Gotta light?”

[maximwtf]

readder takes a bullet for izzy. need this fic asap. omfg. did u want finale yet???

Izzy x Reader

words: 1700

google docs pages: 3

warnings: ! S2E8 Spoilers (Kinda?) ! Gunshot wound, mentions of smoking and drinking, blood, death

opening: Ricky turns to fire his pistol and run, but you saw it coming and push Izzy out of the way. 

AN// Reader can be any gender! I can’t even lie, my angst loving heart was highkey excited for this one XD Thank you for the request, I love writing stuff like this !! This shall also heal my soul after watching ep8, I’m still a mess from it waaa

 “I’ll wait for you”

The long ferns dragged along the freshly stolen British navy coat as you made your way towards the shore with the rest of the crew. Your palm was around the handle of your sword, still convinced that this was a clear suicide mission. There seemed to be absolutely no chance for the whole crew to make it alive all the way to the ship and to make an escape. The Republic of Pirates was swarming with British soldiers, every corner being watched and checked actively. Though, you weren’t going to try and stay here either. You’d rather die as a pirate than get captured and be hung by the British. 

Izzy marched a little ahead of you with Ricky. You weren’t sure why he had been put in charge of the man, but there was no use in asking for him to hand over the job to you. He was still the first mate, and as loyal as he was he continued on with his duties. You weren’t scared for his sake, he was most certainly a more skilled fighter and a sailor than you were. But there was always the what if, at the back of your mind. As far as you knew, the whole area was surrounded by British soldiers. Each and every time you’d peeked to take a fast look, at least three men stood near with their guns. So the odds of one of them spotting the group and shooting weren’t nonexistent. 

Blackbeard and Izzy had a long history together, but so did you and him. From what you’d talked with Izzy, you’d joined the crew only a short time after him. The man wasn’t even the first mate just yet, which was one of the reasons why you’d dared to start chatting with him in the first place. By God, you wouldn’t have started hitting up someone in a much higher position in the crew just after joining. But there had started your decades long, complicated relationship. He’d always been a little snappish, and that had only amplified once he was given the position as first mate. But every time you’d been with him at the sidelines where he usually spent his time, he was just slightly different. He was the same man, but like there was less of a wall he had to keep up. So because he was seemingly comfortable with you around, you sometimes spent time with him. Share cigarettes, watched him carve figures out of small pieces of wood, whatever he was doing. Sometimes there were no words, just silent companionship. At times the air felt tense, and at some point that wasn’t just an itch you had sometimes. There was real tension, but neither of you addressed it. All the way up until you’d sat down to drink a bottle or two of rum with him. There were not many memories of said night, just one of the tension breaking kiss you’d shared with him. And of course the morning after, and the days that followed. The silence that suggested the both of you being at loss of what to do next. 

Your eyes focused on the soldiers in front of you, listening to Ricky speak to them as he’d been told to before. So far the plan was going as intended, but that wouldn’t last for much longer. The prince swung around, alerted the soldiers that the group he was with were pirates and pulled out his pistol. Your eyes widened and without more than a second to think you pushed the man next to you. There wasn’t time to check if he'd landed okay, since that hadn’t been a part of your plan, only to get him out of the bullet’s way. You heard the thud as he fell over, and soon after followed one of the most agonizing pain you could have imagined. The bullet must have hit you instead. There was no time to properly locate where it had hit, but you didn’t have to just yet. As long as you could somewhat walk, that was enough, since after you’d made it to the ship you could take a look at the damage. 

The rest of the unit had heard the gunshot and were hurrying to the scene. You reached out and offered a hand for Izzy, the other hand holding the spot you could see blood seeping through. He took a hold of your hand, noticing that something was clearly wrong. You could see his mouth open slightly, but before he was able to question you, you let go of his hand and pushed him forward by his back. “Fuck off, go!” You growled, eyes scanning the area for the easiest way out. 

The walk to the shore was a blur. You could tell you were stumbling, even the smallest of rocks getting in your way. Izzy was walking in front of you, but you could tell he was stalling more than a person running for their life would. “Did I not tell you to go?” You snarled a little at the stinging pain, now more obvious that it was coming from somewhere deep near your side. You wished he would have just followed the others, gotten away faster. But this brand new version of him wouldn’t do that to you, to anyone from the crew for that matter. You’d been proud of him through his change, but this was not the time for him to care about you. “Come on, I’m not leaving you here.” He paused enough to get you closer to him, and hoisted you up a little by your arm. “Fuck you.” You cursed, trying to walk a little faster now that he was helping you. 

The boat ride felt like forever, and as each of the waves hit the boat the stings of pain just felt worse and worse. You felt light headed and even without noticing you leaned on Izzy just a little more for support. He stiffened up, but kept you in place so you wouldn’t accidentally lean over the edge. You could have sworn you felt his thumb repetitively go over your forearm, as if to keep some sense in the moment .

Izzy got out of the boats first, and with the help of the others he got your form on the main deck. The first mate tore off his coat, laying it flat on the wooden deck before leaning your head over his lap. You could feel cold sweat creep onto your forehead and back, breaths shallow and quick. It was only now setting in what had happened, but you tried to bite back the feelings of panic. You felt Izzy tap your cheek, making your eyes land on his face. Some dirt had stuck to his face from the fall he’d taken because of you, you thought to yourself. “Come on, stay awake.” Izzy said, his voice a little shaken, but the same old commanding tone somewhere in there. “Oh, you’ll be fine, you carouser.” A groan left your throat, making you close your eyes for a moment. You didn’t feel like opening them after, but you did. You did when Izzy’s hand made contact with your cheek again. 

Before this you’d thought of the crew members watching. You’d noticed they were around Izzy, some of them hurrying to get anything to help. Though, you knew this was the day you’d feed the fish. Izzy’s expression looked tight. Like he wanted to cry, but tried not to for your sake. He was hunched over your form as his eyes watered. “Aye, now. Don’t hang the jib. You’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him. He’d changed so much, gotten to see how much the crew actually cared about him. He’d be just fine even if you weren’t there with him to stand at the sidelines. Only if he could see that as well. “You don’t do this now, ye fucking hear me?” He said, brows furrowed. You looked at him, his eyes. He looked oddly blurry, your head was spinning from the lost blood. Though, you didn’t mention it to him. “I’m not going anywhere.” You grit your teeth, finding breathing a lot harder than it had been before. You wanted to go, if that meant the struggle would finally end. “But even if I did, I’d be leaving you with the…best possible people.”

Your gaze stayed on Izzy, trying to follow his lips in case you missed something he said. But he was silent, like he was holding back something. The first mate swallowed uncomfortably, leaning over carefully, just to hide his words from anyone else. “You need to tell me if you-” He started, but that was enough. A faint smile appeared on your face. “Of course I fucking love you.” You said, for his sake silently, but you didn’t find it in you to speak any louder anymore. Izzy froze for a moment, some tension leaving his shoulders as he nodded. It was subtle, but as long as you’d known him you’d learned to find even the most minimalistic emotions from his face. His jaw trembled, but his mouth opened and he silently replied; “I love you.” Which was enough for you, more than so. But at that moment, you hoped those words would have been said earlier. Then maybe, just maybe everything could have been different. “I’ll wait for you.” You said, the struggle starting to feel better, like it was coming to an end. Izzy’s face blurred into a soft darkness, which slowly became the only thing still holding you. 

AN// Requests for Izzy are open, I love writing for him ahhh >:(

[cherie-doll]

Cherie Cherie Cherie 🥺🥺 may I please request a Keegan x Assassin reader, enemies to lovers trope? It’s a huge brainrot rn and I don’t have a good way with words like you do 🥹

I was imagining like the reader receiving a request to assassinate Keegan because he is a brilliant sniper and she/he/they try to shimmy into his civilian life and once she gains his trust (or she believes that he trusted her enough) she orchestrates some ‘accidents’ but none of them worked. In the end she had to try and kill him during one of his mission and it can end in angst or wholesome whichever you please!! She definitely will grow a soft spot towards him during the process of getting to know him like (who doesn’t like Keegan the man’s so caring)😭😭

You can even like switch out some parts if you feel like they don’t make sense hehe. Thanks so much for writing and posting argh what would I do without you 😭😭💖💖

chant my name three times and i'll appear (jk XD) and thank YOU for these ideas, seriously. i rewrote this so many times omg

Keegan x Assassin!Reader (angst)

The flash of lobelia blue eyes was evident against the contrast of austere grey wall. You had found your target. "Keegan P. Russ" You recalled the name written at the top of the folder given to you. The information had been vague and rendered useless before shoving it into the paper shredder.

You're young, stupid and willing to do anything for money. That's how you ended up here and how you were treated. An expendable kid who would do anything for money. But you had reached dire circumstances. It's such a secret you keep.

Having already found out where he lived, sort-of figured out his routine while off-duty and the people he associated with, which weren't many to begin with, all you had to do was devise a plan. His information was not easy to collect as this was the first time he'd taken an interval in a long time. How you were ever supposed to take out a skilled soldier, a sniper at that too, you had no clue. This was certainly a first, your previous tasks involved less skilled targets; gang members, drug dealers and the occasional unfortunate passerby who happened to be there at the wrong moment and time.

Keegan with his savings bought a house, an attempt at a normal civilian life. You sought out a weakness, an entry, a quiet way to take him out. But every time you searched for him, you always found his eyes first. Your breath caught in your chest when you thought they'd found yours. Shady blue pools. Observing wouldn't do anything. The only way to find a weakness in him was to get closer.

Keegan who had no idea what to do with himself. Rest was all he wanted, but it didn't take long before he was restless. He found it within himself a growing emptiness; an uncomfortable silence. A stillness he always said was a luxury on base. Shouldn't he be thankful to be getting rest now? After all, to sulk all your primary physical needs like sleep and eating must be met before you can worry about anything else.

For a solid month you played it safe until one night you grew frustrated and through the torrential rain you walked up his steps. Keegan had been downing another bottle when he heard your knock. He blinked seeing you drenched, hair matted and sticking to the sides of your face, clothes heavy with rainwater and looking out of breath. Holding the door open, he must've stood there blinking for a moment deciphering whether you were real or he'd been imagining. Finally, snapping out of his daze he cleared his throat when you started speaking, your voice low, feigning timidity.

"I'm, sorry I've come to you in this...this, well my car broke down and, I... I haven't a place to stay."

He squinted, balancing himself by placing a hand on the door and leaning upon it. Drinking whilst mindlessly staring into the rain hadn't been a good idea.

"Right..." He said in a low voice, rather to himself more than to you. He stood straight again, focusing onto your face. "Want to come in?" He offered.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude..."

"You look cold." He pointed out, leaning into your face.

When he leaned in you caught a whiff of alcohol in his breath. You considered apologizing and backing out, it'd look weird but there was a chance he wouldn't remember all the details or even question your actions. But you had already come and you were shivering.

"Well, if you insist." And he moved to let you enter. Upon entering the first thing you felt was that the air didn't change. Did he not have his heater on? Second thing you noticed when you walked further in were the amount of beer bottles on the living room floor by the couch.

"Shit, let me clean this mess up." He moved to collect the bottles from the floor but stopped shortly when you had reached down and picked up an unopened bottle. Popping open the bottle you brought it to your lips and took a long drink. He stood motionless watching you down it halfway before your lips parted from it. You hadn't had a drink in a while and you certainly missed the burn-like sensation the first sip brought.

"You get the good beer." You said, smiling a little to him. He snickered and motioned for you to sit on the couch. "I'll go turn on the heater. Make yourself comfortable."

You sat, contemplating getting the job done now. Keegan's defenses were low but he wasn't drunk either, he just looked tipsy.

Too soon, you thought.

You assumed he wouldn't remember most of that night but, on the contrary, what was most memorable for him was how refreshing it was to bask in your company. However simple and mundane was the evening it was the most at peace and content he'd ever been in a long time.

You drank together once a week on evenings, sometimes going out to eat, visiting bars or walking aimlessly through the streets. Keegan wouldn't particularly say you were friends, less lovers. The line was blurry but it was something best not labeled nor defined. You were thankful for this, it made your job easier. Detachment was something you ought to do soon, and this thought became pertinent in your mind. During those moments when you'd pause, observing his relaxed form, making your hand hesitate, twirling the knife in your palm and testing the pointy tip with your finger. How much would you even get paid to do this?

"I'm going away." He said one day.

"What do you mean?" Panic surged through your veins.

"I'm in the military. Got called to go back." A pause and a stretch of uncomfortable silence. "But I'll come back."

"When?"

His shoulders slouch. The only answer is silence. “I don’t know.” He stared up at you through his lashes as you stood up. He was dangerous when he looked at you like that.

You left without a word, before you could crack in front of him. His words had pierced through you reminding you of a life you don't have access to. How easy it was to forget your priorities, a simple thing you had with him. How he made you feel on top of the world; free of problems, of the need to survive. But you're not free to make those decisions, and until he's gone you can never find peace.

And Keegan had never felt the frightening thrill of a push and pull game that very much felt like Russian roulette. Never had he been afraid to plunge headfirst into reality, but this... this was the deadliest of games.

A hole in your heart still harbored a question; just what answer he'd give you might break it. And you came to this cruel, shattered reality as you observed Keegan focus on his sniper scope. His spotter unaware of you as you pulled the trigger.

"Maybe if the circumstances had been different." You whispered.

[icey--stars]

Hey I saw in your bio that your requests are open? Pls ignore if they aren't 🙏🏼 but I had this idea for Azris, and as the queen of Azris angst, I knew I had to at least share it with you

So I've been watching the Shadowhunters show (idk if you've seen it) but basically there's this seen where Jace gets possessed by some spirit thing and starts attacking his best friend, Alec. And they have a whole fight scene and it ends with Jace stabbing Alec with an arrow. All the while the ghost thing is talking THROUGH Jace and saying stuff like "Your boy's in there, screaming, begging me not to do this." And Alec is all like "it's ok, it's not your fault.". (I would highly recommend searching that scene up, it's the best angst inspo and I'm horrible at explaining)

Anyways imagine that buttt...AZRIS!!! What if after they are officially mated and everything, running their court, a new threat emerges that basically possess Eris who then attacks Azriel, maybe he stabs him, maybe there's a bit of burning involved (pls I'm sorry I know it sounds fucked up, but I love a good angst)

And then when Eris gets rid of whatever is controlling, how would they heal from that, like move on and stuff cuz I can imagine Eris would be feeling hella guilty and Az would want to forgive him but still be shaken up himself too...

Anyways if you do decide to write you can change it up as you like, I know whatever you come up with will be AMAZINGGG

You Would Never Hurt Me

Azriel is at a weekly family dinner when suddenly his bond with Eris alerts him to danger. What will happen when he realizes his mate is being controlled by another? What lengths will he go to? - 5.3k words of emotional pain.

Author's Note: Queen of Azris Angst? we sure? y'know what... i'll take it XD. I took a few creative liberties, but actually not too many... but I hope you enjoy :D

ouch my soul hurts. genuinely hurt me to write this but it just hurt so good. Also, I did end up changing the part about Az hesitating to forgive him because he was shaken up purely because the situation was so much more angsty with Az desperately trying to convince Eris everything is okay.

TW: Depictions of violence, mentions of blood, SEVERE burns, Azriel’s canon backstory, mind control trope, descriptions of severe injuries

also this was not edited very much. apologies for any mistakes!

{ ao3 link }

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

The newest threat to Prythian had been biding their time for a while. Azriel wasn’t going to lie that he was nervous. He and his spies in both courts he had close connections to had been unable to find anything of use. The only thing that they seemed to know was that this enemy was intelligent and not without power. They didn’t even know if it was a fae from the continent, Prythian or even Hybern. All reports had come up useless in the grander scheme of things.

“Az, if you keep that frown on your face, it might just become permanent,” Cassian teased. He’d gone to the weekly dinner at Velaris this week. This time, without Eris. Normally he’d come along, but Eris had decided he wanted to finish up some of the paperwork and work on training one of the newest ghost hound yearlings some more commands.

Azriel couldn’t help but feel tense over the matter since he knew he’d seen more signs of the enemy closer to the Autumn Court than anywhere else. It had his metaphorical hackles standing on end almost constantly.

Cassian nudged his shoulder with his knuckles. “Come on, Az,” his brother urged. “Relax a moment. I know you’d rather Eris be here, but he’s going to be just fine. He’s a damn High Lord of fire. I think he can manage a night without your shadows surrounding him.”

Azriel sighed, nodding in agreement. “Sorry, Cass,” He mused. “Something just feels off tonight.”

“How so?” Rhys questioned from across the table, still facing Nyx as he tried to bargain with the child over eating his greens.

Azriel shrugged. “The shadows are jittery. The darkness doesn’t bring comfort. Something is just off,” he replied.

Rhys hummed in acknowledgement. Feyre replied, “Is it about that threat?” She asked carefully. The bags under her eyes were evidence that the little Heir to the Night Court was still having trouble sleeping since his visit to the Illyrian camps.

“I’m not entirely sure. But I’ve seen more signs of them near the Autumn Court than anywhere else,” he admitted. “I wish we knew what they were capable of at the very least.”

“Whatever it is, Az, I’m sure we can handle it,” Rhys said, looking up toward him. “We’ve handled far worse than one crazed individual. But if you’re nervous and you’re not even going to eat what’s on your plate until you get back to your mate, none of us will fault you for leaving.”

Nesta nodded from where she sat beside Cassian, but she was also just playing with her foot with her fork. “That, or you can kidnap him and force him to attend dinner and book club,” Nesta mused, smirking as she glanced over at him.

Azriel scoffed in amusement. “I’m not so sure he’d appreciate that, Nes.”

Nesta chuckled. “No, but it’d make your sorry ass stop brooding for five minutes.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, turning away. He put his fork down. They weren’t wrong to say he couldn’t stomach food with this… itch of some sort bugging the hell out of him.

Suddenly, the bond twitched inside of him. Not a good twitch either.

Azriel sat up straight immediately, putting a hand to his chest when more emotions began flowing through. Worry. Confusion. Fear.

Azriel stood up as quickly as he could, shadows flaring out.

“Azriel,” Rhys mused from the table. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s in danger,” Azriel breathed.

Rhys immediately stood up. “In danger? Eris? The Lord of Fire?”

“Don’t make jokes, Rhys,” he begged, breathing a bit heavier. “Don’t follow me yet. The wards will stop you. Just… keep a tab on my mind. I have a feeling what this is. And it’s not a nightmare.”

Then he winnowed, feeling Rhys gently prod into his mind to stay as a presence just on the outside of his mind so he’d know what’s happening too.

Azriel followed the bond, sprinting as fast as possible through the Forest House until-

Eris was in his office.

But then something stopped. The bond stopped. Empty.

Azriel burst in, panting terribly as he spotted Eris standing at his desk.

“Eris?” He questioned hesitantly.

Eris turned around, but his eyes were distant. Azriel’s heart dropped like a stone when he heard emotionless words come out of his mate’s mouth. “Eris is not here, Illyrian mongrel.”

Azriel squared his shoulders, pressing his already glowing siphon to form his armor over his body. He crouched down imperceptibly. “Eris, this is not a funny joke.”

That was just his denial talking though. Eris had never called him an Illyrian mongrel.

“Oh, he doesn’t?” The male asked hauntingly. “Are you so sure? I know you can’t be… being a bastard and all.”

Something slammed into his mental walls and Azriel stumbled back just as Rhys seemed to reel back in his mind.

Azriel gritted his teeth, forcing his eyes open as he stared into Eris’s eyes, waiting for the familiar clarity to come back.

“You’re pathetic,” Eris snarked. “One measly hit and it almost took you down? Weak.”

Rhys seemed to be doing something akin to building a second wall from within his mind, battling off something. Azriel couldn’t spare any mental energy to figure out what it was.

“Eris… you need to come back,” He said, but it really came out more like pleading.

Flames sparked on Eris’s palms and Azriel couldn’t help his flinch. Though his mate had been helping him overcome his fear as of late, something… something felt wrong about this.

“Eris,” he warned, eyes drawn down to the fire unconsciously. “What are you doing?”

“My name is not Eris,” he hissed, stalking closer. A dagger summoned to Eris’s palm, the flame lighting up the dagger’s edges as if it was some glowing blade. If he hadn’t been so shocked over the loss of his bond and the fear for his mate, he would’ve thought it almost looked cool. But right now? It was downright terrifying.

The male leapt at him and Azriel raised up his arms in defense, dodging to the side with only a few centimeters to spare. He didn’t want to hurt Eris. That was on the forefront of his mind.

But what was he supposed to do when Eris was trying to hurt him?

“Eris,” he pleaded. “Come back to me.”

Eris chuckled, one of the ones reserved for the lords in the council when they were pissing him off. “You know, your mate is putting up quite the fight in here. He’s been trained against people like me, but clearly not like you and your little friend protecting you.”

Azriel spared the moment of suspension to ask Rhys: What’s happening? Who?

Daemati, was Rhys’s only response and it was said as if through gritted teeth.

Shit. Eris was being controlled by a daemati. And though he had faith in Rhys, he knew that the male didn’t have much practice in fighting his own kind.

Azriel’s shadows rose like asps preparing to strike above his shoulders, as if sensing that this was not their beloved mate. No. This was an enemy this time. But he couldn’t hurt what was his.

“Let him go,” Azriel snarled.

Eris put a finger to his chin, tilting his head as if considering the prospect before scoffing. “No.” Then Eris leapt at him again. Azriel hadn’t been prepared this time- too much in shock to truly focus. His shadows reached out to cover his mate’s wrists in a desperate attempt to try and return him back, but it didn’t stop the dagger from lodging itself deep in his shoulder and twisting.

Azriel couldn’t help the pained groan that escaped him. He flared his wings and pushed forward quickly, grabbing Eris’s shoulders and pushing the male back. Though they were of equal strength, Azriel was stronger physically if they really tested themselves.

But the daemati had control over Eris’s magic at that moment and Azriel couldn’t help his yelp when the flames suddenly engulfed his hands. He wanted to scream and run, to get into the sky and never return-

He couldn’t though. This was his mate.

Azriel felt tears dripping out of his eyes as he pushed Eris back against a wall. “Come back to me,” he begged brokenly while staring into Eris’s beautiful fire-colored eyes.

“Please,” he continued.

Keep him held there, Rhys demanded in his mind. And release your shields.

Azriel really didn’t have the mental capacity to question Rhys at this moment, so he simply obeyed. The other daemati swept in, but Rhys met it head-on. Another presence joined the battlefield too- a softer type of darkness. Feyre.

A headache was beginning to bloom behind his temples at all the action occurring in his mind. More than anything though, his hands burned. The daemati was more distracted so the flames were certainly not as hot as they could be, but it still hurt.

Talk to him, Feyre ordered sternly. Bring your mate out of the fire.

Azriel let out a choked sob, his wings flaring behind him as he pressed toward Eris and rested his forehead against his mate’s. “Eris,” he begged. “I know this isn’t you. Come back to me. I know you wouldn’t-”

He cut off with a groan as the flames burned hotter. His flesh might be melting off to be honest. But he couldn’t let him go. Not now. Not ever. Azriel let another sob tear out of his throat as he pressed desperately into Eris.

“Come back to me,” he pleaded brokenly. “This isn’t you, Eris. You’re my mate. You’re mine. And you would never hurt me.”

Let go now, Feyre yelled over whatever clashing was occurring on the battleground between their minds.

“I can’t,” Azriel sobbed. He couldn’t let Eris go. Not like this. Not now. He needed his mate to know he was there and he would forgive him.

Az, let him go before your hands melt off, Rhys snarled harshly.

Azriel sobbed and stumbled backward. Eris remained standing against the wall as Azriel curled his hands toward his chest, shadows curling around them quickly, providing a soothing cold touch to them.

He kept his eyes open, watching Eris and watching his eyes. There was a flicker of fire there. Just a flicker.

“Eris,” he said again. The eyes went distant again and he snarled at the daemati, hoping the bastard could hear him over all the clashing. “Let him go. Let my mate go. Let Eris go, you-”

He couldn’t come up with an insult that could encompass all the hate he felt toward the being at this moment.

The bond flickered and Azriel clutched his chest. That put an idea in his head and he immediately brought all the love he felt for the male in front of him and shoved it down the bond as forcefully as he could. As well as some determination he hoped Eris would interpret as ‘You’re better than it. Fight back. You’re mine.’

Eris suddenly collapsed against the wall, body slumping into the floor. Azriel rushed forward before his head could slam into it as well. He cradled the male in his lap, tears still pouring down his cheeks. Everything was too much and not enough. He needed Eris, and that was about the only thing he could interpret.

“Eris, Eris, Eris,” he began repeating, pushing the hair out of his mate’s face desperately even as his shadows reported the door slamming open and Rhys with Cassian came running in.

They tried to grab his arms and drag him away but he fought harshly. “No! Don’t make me leave him,” he begged them. He needed to know his mate would be alright.

“We’ll get him too, Az,” Cassian said, pulling even more. “Rhys will get him. Come on, before your hands-”

Azriel held onto Eris even more, not wanting to leave his mate alone and afraid. Even if he was unconscious now, he would wake up and feel regret over something that wasn’t even in his control. He knew he would. But Azriel needed to be there so he could comfort him.

“Azriel,” Rhysand commanded sharply. “Let him go. Go to Madja.”

He wanted to disobey the command so badly, but his strength gave out and Cassian scooped him up onto his feet. Rhys picked Eris up into his arms and then they were winnowing straight into Madja’s clinic. Someone must’ve warned her because she already had a bucket of cold water that Cassian forced his hands into.

“Stay still,” Cassian ordered when he tried to twist and see where Rhys was taking his mate. “You’ve got to cool your hands down,” He told him. “Eris is just fine. He’s going to get checked out by Madja. You are going to get healed before your hands scar even worse with more permanent damage. Do you realize your skin is melting off?”

“But Eris-” Azriel tried to protest.

“Do not make me order you again, Az!” Rhys called from the other room. He saw Feyre winnow in as well, running toward where Rhys was. And Azriel was stuck here, useless, with his hands in a goddamn bucket. He couldn’t even feel the pain in the wake of knowing his mate was hurt.

He sobbed through his teeth. This was worse than his brothers burning his hands. This was so much worse than even the worst injuries he’s sustained in war or his line of work.

Feyre suddenly came up to him and her gentle presence ghosted along the edges of his mind before soothing something he didn’t even realize was tearing him apart from the inside it seemed like. The headache eased slightly.

“Is he okay?” He asked, looking up at Feyre. She had the most caring expression on her face and he wanted it gone.

“Rhys is with him right now,” Feyre told him. “Madja is there too, but you’re the main concern right now. He’s only going to have mental wounds. But Rhys can fix it, don’t worry,” she added on quickly when his face dropped.

“How?” He asked. “That kind of-”

“We caught it early and Rhys saw what was damaged in the fight. It’s okay, Azriel. He’s going to be okay. Now we need to make sure your hands are going to be okay, alright? Breathe and keep that even head I know you have. Eris is okay.”

Azriel sighed and slumped against whatever was nearby in relief. It ended up being Cassian. He trusted Feyre. Eris was going to be okay. And that was the only thing that mattered.

“Come on, Az,” Cassian urged, holding him up gently while still keeping his hands dunked in the water. “Your panicking will not help him if he wakes up.”

Azriel breathed and his shadows came up to whisper assurances that Eris was in the other room on a bed with Rhys and Madja. Cared for. He forced his body to come back from whatever super-adrenaline state it had gotten itself into.

“That’s it,” Cassian encouraged. “That’s good, Az. Do you feel any pain yet?”

At the mention, yes. His hands burned and not in any sort of good way. He didn’t dare look into the water. He probably couldn’t anyway since it was bloody. That probably wasn’t a good sign. The stabbing in his shoulder hurt, but it was duller than his hands at the moment.

“Yes,” he gritted out, huffing out some breath to suck more in anew as the pain now took over his being.

“I’ll get Madja,” Feyre said.

“No-” He said. “Leave her with Eris. I’m okay.”

“Eris is unconscious and Rhys is fully capable of caring for him. I’ll go over there too to help. But you need healing.”

Azriel sighed, knowing this wasn’t something Feyre would allow so he gave up on the argument early. “Okay,” he breathed. “Make sure he’s alright. Please.”

Feyre left and Madja was walking in quickly. “Get your shadows to cover your own eyes,” She ordered. The shadows, not completely under his will at the moment, took initiative and covered his eyes while she pulled his hands out of the cold water. They were numb in some places and burning in others.

Madja let out a harsh breath. “Do not lift that blindfold,” she told him and then the burning returned tenfold and he knew she was pushing healing magic into his hands. Cassian kept him restrained even as he tried to keep screams from bubbling out of his throat.

Alas, he could only stop them for so long and they soon spilled out. He lost any and all breath in his lungs all too quickly. Probably a good thing. Cassian kept him in a firm hold which grounded him somewhat but it hurt.

When he was finally given a reprieve, he was halfway towards passing out. When the pain mostly receded to a harsh ache, he finally drew in breath and slumped back against Cassian with his eyes closed.

“Come on, Az,” Cassian encouraged. “Let’s get you over to Eris, alright? Madja will wrap your hands there.”

Azriel could barely spare a hum of acknowledgement before he was being manhandled to his feet and forced to walk on shaky knees with droopy eyelids. His shadows had dropped back down to his hands, covering them from sight. Maybe that was a good thing, he decided. As soon as he saw Eris, he tried reaching out for his mate, but Cassian slapped his arm down.

“You are not using your hands, Az. Sit your ass down,” Cassian ordered. His brother helped him get out of his armor and leathers so he was just in his undershirt and pants.

He was forced to sit on the stool nearby, but was allowed to scoot it as close as possible to Eris to lean down over the bed and rest his forehead against Eris’s skin, breathing his mate’s scent in. It calmed his nerves just enough for him to finally take a deep breath.

Madja came in and forced him to hold himself up for a few more minutes while she wrapped his hands in white bandages as well as his shoulder. Then he was allowed to rest. Rhys pulled away from Eris eventually and he perked up, looking at his brother.

“He’ll be alright,” Rhys assured him. “At most, he won’t remember the fight, which I’d say is a mercy.”

Azriel sighed in relief and rested his head back down into Eris’s now cold palm since he couldn’t hold it properly. There, he fell asleep.

–––––

Azriel didn’t know how much time passed when he awoke. His hands ached like none other and if he had to be honest: everything hurt. Apparently, almost having your mate be gone to mind control by a daemati gave you some really bad tension to deal with. Specifically in his shoulders which were always the hardest to get at. Impossible now because of the thick bandages on his hands. The stab felt as if it’d already healed over. Perks of Illyrian healing, he supposed.

He lifted his head from wherever he was laying and squinted when he looked to his left and saw an empty bed.

“Eris?” He said aloud, sitting up and glancing around more. Someone must’ve moved him to the bed. But where was his mate? Azriel needed to be with him.

Suddenly, a burst of calm exploded from his chest and Azriel gasped for breath, not even realizing he’d been holding it. The bond. Thank the fucking Cauldron it was back. It meant that Eris was awake and okay enough to not be… well, dying.

Azriel groaned as he stood up, flexing his wings out behind him as he stared down at his hands. For Madja to have wrapped them so much he couldn’t even move his wrists… he must’ve gotten burned quite badly, he deduced. But, priority number one was finding Eris.

He tugged on the bond once, slowly wandering out toward where Madja usually sat in her clinic.

Eris was beside her.

Azriel breathed deeply at last, relief coursing through his veins at the sight of his mate being awake and even having a conversation with Madja over something relating to some sort of bright orange plant that looked like fire. He stumbled his way over there as quickly as he could, wrapping his arms around Eris and pressing his nose into the junction of his neck and shoulder to breathe in his scent.

Eris, however, had frozen. And that sent ice barreling through Azriel. What had happened?

“Hi Az,” Eris said hesitantly.

Azriel pulled away immediately, coming around to see Eris from the front to try and discern what the problem was.

For some reason, he had a guilty look on his face. Not a joking one- no, it was similar to the one he had when he figured out he’d accidentally forgotten something in court which led to the death of some farmers. A broken sort of regret.

“Eris, what’s wrong?” Azriel asked, brows furrowed in concern. “What happened? Did someone do something before I woke up? I’ll kill them for you with or without my hands,” he said, rage already pooling in his heart at the thought of someone making his mate feel this sort of guilt.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Eris waved him off, averting his gaze to the ground. “Nobody did anything besides that damned daemati.”

“I’m already killing him,” Azriel said to try and assure his mate. “I’m going to find him, tear his head from his shoulders and put it on a pike. Give the body to the scavengers and the head can be a personal trophy until it decays.”

A small chuckle came out of his mate’s chest and Azriel warmed up considerably, glad he could at least get that out of Eris. A chuckle was a start.

“Come on, Eris,” Azriel said, bringing his bandaged hands up to cup Eris’s cheeks. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’m not blind.”

Eris sighed and then gently grabbed Azriel’s forearms to hold his hands up. “This is what’s wrong,” he pointed out as if it was obvious.

Azriel’s brows furrowed. Then he realized. “Eris, these are not your fault. These are that bastard’s fault.”

“It was my fire that burned you, Az,” Eris argued, releasing his hands and standing up.

Madja stood as well. “I’ll let you two talk this out. Let me know if someone starts dying,” she says as she walks out.

Azriel looked at Eris, checking him from top down for any injuries or other apparent signs of his emotions. Both males had tells even if they were masters at hiding away.

“It was your fire controlled by that bastard,” Azriel argued, pressing forward. He paused when Eris backed up, even more concerned. It’d been centuries since Eris had backed away from his comfort. 

“Eris,” he spoke softly. “I would’ve held you back even if my wings were burned off my shoulders. It is not your fault. Take away that guilt from your mind right fucking now. I could’ve let go the instant the daemati lit the flames, but guess what? I didn’t, did I?”

Eris looked sheepishly now and Azriel opened up his arms.

“It’s okay, Eris. You would never hurt me. I know that. You should already know that,” Azriel insisted. “My hands will heal in time. There’s a reason Madja is so esteemed as a healer. And I’m pretty sure she even got to the burns faster than the guards did when I was 8. The only reason I can speak about that night and not fear the flames is because of you.”

Eris now had tears running down his face and Azriel dared a step forward.

Eris didn’t move, but he didn’t come closer either. “I’m sorry,” Eris whispered, closing his eyes.

“You would never hurt me,” Azriel repeated.

“Your hands-”

“I don’t give a fucking shit about my hands,” Azriel cut him off. “I’d rather my entire arm be torn off than be in a world where you’re controlled by a daemati. Don’t you realize that? I would do anything to protect you. My hands being burned is the least of my worries.”

“Az, I still burned you. In the worst of places,” Eris argued.

“You did not burn me,” Azriel insisted. “You would never hurt me. Trust yourself on that, huh? Trust me on it at the very least.”

Eris choked on a sob and Azriel opened up his arms again. Finally, finally, his mate went stumbling into his comfort.

“I should have fought harder against his control,” Eris said, voice broken and muffled against Azriel’s shoulder. “I could have. But it was just so hard. It felt like everything in my mind had gone under ice, yet I could feel the heat escaping me. Burning you. I tried so hard and it didn’t work-“

“Shh…” Azriel hushed, holding Eris as tight as he could. “You did the best you could, Eris. The fact you even still remember the experience is a miracle in itself. Daemati can be very damaging. Can scratch memories. Rhys was able to repair them but I was so worried about you. You have no clue.”

Eris sobbed wetly into his shoulder and Azriel felt tears slipping down his own cheeks as well. He let his emotions flow freely over the bond. Eris’s were still a mix of guilt, but now it was more of a lost hopelessness than true guilt. More of a “I don’t know how to fix this” kind of look.

“There is nothing that you did wrong,” Azriel whispered. Eris hugged him tighter and he smiled, squeezing him back as well. His shadows were helping him give more force behind it since he was unable to use his hands and the damn plush of the bandages did not help.

“I don’t know what happened beyond the fact I burned you,” Eris admitted. “I was caught off guard since I was tired and waiting for you to come home. He just… snuck between my mental walls and latched on like a damn leech.”

“You need to rest more. Now that we know we’re dealing with a daemati, we need to keep mental shields sharp. But luckily we have some of the most powerful daemati on our side. It’s already two against one,” Azriel joked.

Eris chuckled and finally pulled away to meet Azriel’s eyes. “I’m going to help you heal your hands,” he declared. “I’ll help you with everything. Anything. Writing? Done. Massage or oil? Done.”

“If this is you trying to make up for a fake mistake, don’t,” Azriel said seriously.

“This is me helping my mate through an injury,” Eris replied, giving a small reassuring smile despite the obvious signs he’d been crying not even a few seconds ago.

“Good,” Azriel told him. “I’ll definitely take you up on the writing part. I’ve got to write down things about what happened. See if we can piece together clues. And maybe it’ll help you piece together your memory,” he added.

Eris nodded. “Anything,” he repeated.

“But first,” Azriel said, putting one bandaged hand up, “We’re going to bathe because we both stink.”

Eris couldn’t help the laugh that exploded from his chest and it made Azriel all the merrier. He loved making him laugh like this.

“Agreed,” his mate replied. “Maybe we should talk to Madja about the wrapping of your hands first?”

Azriel nodded in agreement. “Then a warm bath,” he added. “I may take you up on the massage you mentioned,” he joked. “My shoulders ache.”

“You were sleeping on a goddamn stool when I woke up,” Eris said, scoffing in amusement. “Of course your back is hurting, bat. You should have laid in the bed not even two feet away.”

“I needed to be close to you,” Azriel admitted. “I thought I wouldn’t sleep like the dead and be awake with you but…”

Eris chuckled. “You always sleep like the dead when your face is buried in my scent. Honestly, you shouldn’t have expected any differently.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. But the little banter also assured him that Eris was truly okay. At least for now, those thoughts of guilt had been warred against and lost.

Cassian came jogging in loudly suddenly and he sighed in relief when he spotted them. “Thank the fucking Cauldron you are both awake,” he panted. “Az? How are your hands?”

“Hurt, but they’re fine,” Azriel dismissed. “How bad were they?”

“You do not want to know,” Cassian replied.

“I would,” Eris spoke up. “After all, who knows how to heal burns better than the Fire Lord who deals them out?” He said. But luckily, his tone was lighthearted. No guilt to be seen. If there was, Azriel would’ve slapped the back of his head to reprimand those feelings.

Cassian hesitated, but then sighed. “Skin was practically melted off. Some parts were down to the bone. Bloody as hell,” he briefly described.

Azriel sucked in a breath, gazing down at his own hands. How had he not felt that? Apparently, his concern over Eris had been that powerful. Eris also seemed frozen in shock.

Cassian shrugged. “They looked better after Madja used all her healing magic on them. I think the only thing she was concerned about was the potential damage to your sense of touch, Az. Like, light touches.”

Azriel hummed in response. “It certainly wouldn’t be any different than the aftermath of my old injury,” he admitted. “Just takes a few years for it to return to normal.”

Cassian hummed. “Well, anyway, I was just coming here to check up on you,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

“We’re fine,” Azriel assured his brother. After a moment of hesitation, he sighed and said, “Thank you, Cass. You kept a level head.”

Cassian scoffed. “Someone had to. You should’ve seen Rhys. He was practically catatonic with the mental battle. I’m surprised his or your head didn’t burst. Or Eris’s for that matter.”

Eris chuckled softly at that, but didn’t say anything. Azriel glanced at him before stretching his arms out best he could without the use of his hands. “Anyway, we’re off to get clean,” he declared.

“Tell Rhys the Autumn Court isn’t getting one of my brothers as ruler just yet,” Eris joked.

Cassian chuckled and nodded. “Don’t die,” he replied with a snicker before walking back where he came from. Wing beats told them that he’d actually left.

Madja was walking back in too. “While I’d rather keep your hands wrapped, Azriel, I do agree that you two need to bathe,” she explained. “I’ll unwrap them, but they’re going back on immediately after.”

The shadows floated towards her, some settling on the bandages of his hands as if in question to continue the order she gave them last time.

“I believe it will be alright if he sees his hands now, my friends,” Madja told them with a sweet smile. “Let’s get them unwrapped now.”

Barely fifteen minutes later, Azriel and Eris were sitting together in the bathtub, mostly just relaxing. Azriel pulled his hands up out of the lukewarm water (more strict instructions from Madja) to examine them. His old scars… were almost gone. As if burned or melted away. Instead, deep indents remained. His hands felt as if they had lost weight and he couldn’t move his fingers yet, but Madja had told him the muscles still needed time to realize they weren’t melted anymore.

Regardless, it looked odd. The skin was pulled tight. But something felt off about them.

Eris put a hand on his wrists to put his hands back in the water and draw his attention. “It’ll just take time,” Eris assured him.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of burns this bad,” Azriel admitted.

“I have,” Eris said. “Normally it took a few years, but they did eventually heal if they survived the initial burning.”

Azriel hummed. “Guess you’ll be doing the paperwork for a while,” he joked.

Eris scoffed, smiling. “Indeed I will,” he agreed.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

A/N: hope you enjoyed (and cried at least once because I SOBBED while writing this)

Tagged in all ACOTAR Stories: @bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @bubybubsters, @fieldofdaisiies, @skyesayshi, @lilah-asteria,

Tagged in all Azriel Stories: @ladylokilaufeyson5, @marina468,

[stalkyarsen-ebook]

Okay, what headcanons do you have for Yamato (◕‿◕✿) I'm very interested

*gremlin mode activated* GOSH MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER ?! WHAT KIND OF HC I HAVE FOR HIM XDDDDD

Obviously all the angst that comes with it ! If there is one curse for every character I love is that they're gonna suffer XD Let's make a list for him :

When Konkuzan attacked his family, it was Yuuhime who saved Yamato from the music box's control by interfering.

When he was under Konkuzan, being abused, every part of his life was controlled by him, it was so difficult for him to have a say in something he eventually gave up at one point, hence why it took him and Yuuhime so long to rebel. I might add he was physically abused.

Lying became a survival tool that he became a great actor because of it. His smile can seem sincere but it a fake one that was plastered on his face, a façade.

He is a sociopath. I have my reasoning for that but developping it here might take too long.

Once he broke free of Konkuzan by plotting his murder, he became aloof and did lots of stupid things like drinking until he throw up, spending too much money on things that interested just a bit, and basically partying all night and more. He eventually stops because of his active double life but there is still traces of that episode.

He has a phobia for bathrooms. He only uses it for showers and doesn't stay too long there. (He brushes his teeth in the kitchen and has a dressing table in his bedroom.)

Him and Yuuhime are starting to argue over everything, and rightfully so in Yuuhime's case.

His goal is to keep the status quo as it is. If changes were to happen, it would be in his benefice.

okay, a bit out of subject, but I think he and his sister are naturally thin.

also kinda weird, but his eye color changes quite often (the game can't figure it out), it was originally golden brown.

deep down, he just wants to be loved and being comforted.

this boy needs therapy asap.

also one thing, Yuuhime wants to be called Iori again, for Yamato it is more complicated. Calling him Shouta can trigger him very badly.

Hm. He likes jazzy and rock music. (I see him listen to Serge Gainsbourg, Saint Motel or even IDKHOW)

I know I have way more than that but that's already a lot I have unpacked here hehehe

[deathbyoctopi]

Another year, another rec list with some of the best xuexiao I've read these last 12 months!! >w<

And like last year's rec list, this isn't either exhaustive or limited to fics posted in 2023. It's just the things I have found, which I liked, and want to spread the love about ^-^

Here's, in no particular order, my favourite xuexiao (and occasional songxuexiao) fics. Also, take a look down below for other mxtx or danmei pairings!

You're mine by twilightshards. This is a phenomenal oneshot where Xue Yang does not wait patiently to take revenge on Baixue temple, but rather follows the annoying daoshi out of Jinlintai as soon as he gets off the hook. He catches up with them a couple of nights later, only to find Xiao Xingchen in a... compromised position. While moaning Xue Yang's name.

The tamed by @fieri-sentio-et-excrucior. Last year I recommended the wonderful The Prisoner of Jinlintai fic, and now we got a sequel to that!!! Exciting stuff, very exciting... Xiao Xingchen saves Xue Yang from his botched execution and Song Lan is there raging at what he thinks is a psycho taking full advantage of his friend's kindness. Absolutely loved it!

蛇 - shé by shoujorei. A spectacular oviposition fic with blind snake hybrid Xiao Xingchen and enemy-posing-as-housemate Xue Yang, who really didn't know what he was volunteering for when he offered to "help" daozhang with his next heat. An absolute delight!

good lies go bad by istilfearkanna One of the Yi City what-if's I like so much, showing what would happen if Song Lan is successful in killing Xue Yang and, as per canon, vows not to tell his friend anything. So naturally you have Xiao Xingchen happy about his rekindled friendship, but also deeply worried about his missing friend... breaks my heart every time T-T (thx lionfish13 for the rec!!!)

Down in the black sea by @10holmes. A mermaid AU which has to be the sweetest Xue Yang /Xiao Xingchen tale I've seen in a while, with xxc being a revered merman saving the life of a handsome pirate... without realizing that is the infamous Xue Yang, mermaid hunter and slayer of plenty of his kinsmen!! But of course, they fall in love. It's downright adorable (and deliciously angst-inducing!) Also, the worldbuilding in this one is marvelous!

promises, promises by an anonymous author. Time travel fic!!! This one follows Song Lan trying to right the wrongs of his life in the easiest way possible: that is, to eliminate Xue Yang before he has the chance to hurt anyone else. Except... he gets distracted saving the life of a poor child with a mangled left hand. Still ongoing, and XXC isn't in the picture yet, but the new chapters are highly anticipated and the writing style is so, so, so good.

the non-con opition by the same anonymous author. How do I know? None of your business!! But the awesome writing style continues here, as well as the song lan/xue yang being brought together by fate is just as awesome. It promises to be songxuexiao eventually, for now it's a delightful soulmates/omegaverse with alpha!Song Lan in rut nonconning the hell out of a mysterious omega with a foul mouth.

Sant Xingchen i el drac by @ergbolli45 A little sweet adorable spin of a traditional legend very dear to my heart. It's winter, the Yi City crew are bored around their campfire, and A-Qing wants a story. So, Xue Yang offers to tell a tale from some exotic land on the west about a little princess, a brave knight and a fearsome dragon.

sticking their dick in crazy by Sectionladvivi. I'm not generally one for modern AUs, but this one is such a stupid and shameless pwp that it skyrocketed through my rankings XD SongXueXiao, and oddly enough, the crazy one alluded in the title isn't Xue Yang!! Delicious and filthy. No thoughts, just horn.

Priceless by @fieri-sentio-et-excrucior. Another modern AU!! but how can I resist, when this is Xue Yang breaking and entering happily married songxiao's domicile, who were getting ready for a very sexy night... and end up, Song Lan tied up and forced to watch the criminal fuck Xiao Xingchen senseless (and unaware it's not his husband the one in bed with him!). Evil and sexy, another wonderful fic by such a wonderful author <3

hands, reaching out by @neriine. A retelling of Yi City but with mutation-like special powers, making it especially interesting when it comes to xuexiao's backstory (song lan is also there, in the background) and the night hunts. It's sweet, sweet, Xue Yang as always a murder gremlin who thinks he has it all under control when the first thing that he doesn't know half-way about is his own feelings... Very well-written, and creative in its worldbuilding!

THIS lovely picture is not from a fic (well, not yet, unless I manage to do something cute with it >w<) but serves as an example of all the wonderful pic manips @wangxianswuji has made, which maybe it's cheating a bit for a fanfic rec post, but. They're just so good. Go check their profile and drool with me ^-^

and speaking of art, I can't not mention @wrathyforest's art done for the fic Now that I see you, particularly one of my favourite moments with Xiao Xingchen defending Xue Yang from an undesirable... this fic was in last year's rec list, and very deservingly so!

ANd now for the other ships!

Love of my life, don't hurt me by @foreheadkissesforzewu-jun This is a delightful and spectacularly cruel tale of unrequired love by a gallant cultivator spiriting his soulmate away. At least, that's what Wen Zhuliu sees it, when in fact this fic is him kidnapping and brutally assaulting Lan Xichen, while following the events of the Wen war and the sunshot campaign. Loved it, but PLEASE read the tags.

Jade pillar, bending like reed by awkwardrecline. dark jades (and dark!Lan Xichen in particular) are so so sooo very dear to my heart... this fic has it all, a tyrannical Lan clan leader who will abuse his power left right and center, a jealous didi who wants nothing but possessive love, so much smut everywhere... Cloud Recesses is never as sexy as when the jades are so unrestrained, I love it! ^-^

My future mommy's mistake by tenwudzvrs. Is this fic pretty much what many people consider nono kinks? mpreg, noncon, xue yang being an utter dick? and do I love it precisely because of it? XD pregnant Wei Wuxian goes home one evening but comes across a ruffian in a back alley, who does everything to him up to and including speaking with his husband through the phone while nailing him to the wall. Lan Zhan isn't happy. I am delighted.

What brother needs, brother gets by @foreheadkissesforzewu-jun. a modern AU jadecest pwp which... to be honest, it's pure oral fixation Lan Xichen going to his didi after he got dumped by some idiot and Lan Wangji doing the best he can to comfort him. It's ridiculously shameless and incredibly enjoyable, just to see these two come to the conclusion that the best course of action is to fuck each other!! XD Wei Ying will find a surprise when he gets back home from his travels and finds his husband has collected another husband...

furious love by @alipeeps. From Till the end of the moon, a very nasty and wonderfully in-canon insight on the disastrous marriage between Ye Xiwu (the original) and Tantai Jin. Let's just say she decides to take her marital rights to the extreme, and using the very same lust potion that originally landed her in that marriage to begin with! Tantai Jin is one of those characters that truly suffer beautifully, and suffer he does here!

a fire, made high and wild by @judiwench. A fic for Sleuth of Ming Dynasty, which is a series that wormed its way into my soul. Sui Zhou desperately searches Tang Fan (him, please, him, not his corpse) only to find him... less than good. I was seriously debating between this one and is the festering that kills a man by the same author, but... Agh, they are both amazing snippets at their obvious mutual love, and the trauma that brings it to light. Highly recommend the series and these fics!

a long sleepless night by @dying-redshirt-noises. This one is from Mysterious Lotus Casebook, a wonderful three-way pwp in the Girls' Mansion where Fang Duobing gets doused with sex pollen... of course, Li Lianhua wants to help, but there is not much he can do with his yang disfunction. How handy to have someone like a-Fei nearby to rail the young master, then!! It is sexy and wonderfully in-canon, and I'm all for it.

And I'm probably still forgetting a few fics, there is nowhere near enough jadecest here compared to what I know I have read and enjoyed... Shame on me again for forgetting to bookmark more often than not.

I'm a bit sad that I barely found any of this year's authors on tumblr (don't know if they don't have accounts here, or do under different usernames) so if anyone knows about them, repost bc I'd like to engage and give them my most sincere praise.

Also, I will say I purposefully avoided tgcf fics for fear of spoilers until I read the whole book, so... next year I'm surely filling this with hualian and such!! >w<

Finally, since we're at it, I just will get a bit of self-promotion with the 5 fics I liked most of what I wrote on this year. I'm IMMENSELY PROUD to have produced 36 fics in this year of our lord 2023 (3 per month!!! omfg!!) and while I can't claim favourites, these might be the ones I'm most proud of:

Some kind of dream. Xuexiao roleplaying after a night hunt, with some nice power dynamics, very mutually enthusiastic consensual non-con, and Xue Yang all but confessing that he is Xiao Xingchen's worse enemy... Smut and fluff, all in one. I do love the 3 year bliss in Yi City, and all the in-canon opportunities it offers!!!

Incensed nights. An INSANE endeavor for kinktober, with WangXian dreaming each night a different cozy, cruel, smutty or simply crack-y scenario. 31 fics for the price of one!! multiple pairings, I can't stress how much Lan Zhan dreams of his brother, or wei wuxian's mind follows other ships... Extremely happy with this one, and I nearly went crazy, seriously.

Shards of morning nights and forbidden kisses. My attempt at jadecest, niecest and omegaverse, all in one. ANd quite successful, might I say! Both clan leaders Lan and Nie want to find a way to claim and marry their respective omega didis, but something something clan rules forces them to play a delicate and sexy political game. It ends in a very nice orgy XD

A Comedy of Yi City Errors. This one, I'm particularly happy with the sheer amount of planning and interlocking plotpoints it has, with Song Lan coming across Xiao Xingchen, a-Qing and Xue Yang without even realizing. I'm told it is quite funny... And I like it very much >w<

...what did you call it again? the only one not mdzs in the list, this is for Till the end of the moon and it's yet again Tantai Jin suffering in his so beautiful way! It was done for an exchange, following the premise: take a canon even and make it worse. Do you think ttj had it bad in the series, with the servants mistreating him in Ye Manor? Ya have seen nuffin!!!

Once again, thanks for reading, thanks to all authors for writing, and let's have a wonderful 2024 full of fics and love!!!

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

✨ The space-loving scientist S/O [with a lovely sunshine personality] mysteriously disappeared one night, they're never to be seen ever again, that is until after so many years suddenly a spaceship crashes into a forest near their home in the middle of the night. When skelly comes to investigate, finally... He saw S/O... Injured and large scars all over, on their face and body, ones old and new, they looked so SO exhausted, their body trembles, dark eye bags under their eyes but as S/O stood up, their eyes widens in shock yet light up happily upon seeing skelly. Despite that they were hurt badly, blood dripping and body aching, it was hard to move, although, they couldn't care less at all, the love of their life they've been deeply longing for was in front of them even if so much time has passed, they ran, or at least tried to with the state that they're in, limping and reaching towards skelly sobbing... Skelly allows S/O to hug him, they both fell and broke down, S/O then muttered "My l-love...I-I'm finally home.." and quietly apologizing for everything...

S/O later explains that they were kidnapped by terrible and horrible aliens after accidentally wandering into their territory at night and forced to be their test subject and slave as punishment, spending such a long time being tortured constantly, forced to do terrible things for them and things they didn't want to do, however, S/O persevered, knowing that if S/O gave up and died then only the shitty aliens would win so they tried so hard and fought back that turned the situation into an endless war, surviving through it all, changing the sweet and kind sunshine who dreamt of reaching the stars to a tired soldier... All they ever thought of and dreamt was only to come back home, reuniting with their love...

[Hi!!! I apologize for writing this so long but I just had to tell ever detail because this idea had been stirring inside and rotting my brain with soo much angst! XD]

Undertale Sans - He's horrified. Honestly, he just assumed he did something wrong all these years that made you run away, he could never imagined, well, that. First, he teleports you to the hospital, then he warns Asgore because, uh, that seems like a serious situation a King should know about you know. He's not leaving your side after this, simply holding your hand as you recover. He doesn't know what more he can do to help, but at least, he can listen and be here for you. He won't stop apologizing for not being there when you needed it, even though he can't really go to space so there's not much he could do.

Undertale Papyrus - He's completely in shock. Papyrus assured everyone you were alive and didn't stop looking after you all these years, even though his brother and Undyne told him he was just hurting himself for nothing. Turns out he was right all along and just didn't think to check space, silly him. Welp, that happened. Sometimes everyone thinks you're dead, sometimes you get kidnapped by aliens. That's life. Now that it's over, everyone can turn the page and never leave again because he's now full of insecurities and literally terrified you will never get home when you go get groceries :D But he's fine, he hides it very well (no).

Underswap Sans - Omg. You fought aliens all this time and he was not there to see this. He's jealous, well, not too much of the "I was a lab rat part" but all the other sides. You went into space, and you beat up aliens! Is your spaceship still working? He wants to beat up aliens too! He's glad you're back home, and he won't stop asking questions. He has trouble understanding you need to recover from all this and that talking that much about this traumatizing experience is definitely not helping.

Underswap Papyrus - He breaks down in your arms. He doesn't care what happened, he's just so happy. He got confused after you disappeared, than angry, then sad, then depressed and he was very close from falling down because he couldn't understand why you left. He kept believing, just a little, that maybe you would come home someday, and he's so glad you did eventually. He's horrified when he learns you got basically tortured for years, but he is also in awe about how you managed to go home by yourself. He won't stop crying for a few weeks. He needs to recover as well.

Underfell Sans - He doesn't even know what to say. He grew angry after you, thinking you gave up on him like many before you and that he got tricked into a false feeling of security once again. But now you're back, and apparently, it's all his fault because he didn't think even one second you might have been kidnapped by aliens. He thought about a car accident or something but your car had been found unscathed after a while, he thought of a kidnapping but Edge assured him none of his rivals were in town when it happened, so he just assumed you left. He's not sure how to feel about all of this, he needs some time to think.

Underfell Papyrus - He falls completely silent. He searched for you everywhere. He thought you died somewhere and that he would never see you again. He mourned you. And now you're just... back? He lived the all thing like a giant failure because he wasn't there to protect you and he thought that maybe you got kidnapped and died all alone somewhere. Well, learning you got kidnapped by aliens doesn't help him to feel better, because he felt like it was his role to protect you, and he couldn't prevent this. He's glad you're home, but he is full of insecurities now, wondering if he's the right fit for you if he can't even protect you from something like this.

Horrortale Sans - Oh he was not worried. Willow kept telling him you were gone forever, but he could feel in his soul it was not true and he just kept forgetting you were gone for four years until you actually come back out of nowhere. He's just happy he got his S/O's back, purring like you left the house yesterday. He knew you would come back.

Horrortale Papyrus - Well that's awkward. You landed right next to the tomb he made for you in the forest, right next to Undyne's and Alphys' ones (that was supposed to not exist by the way because Monsterkind refused to give them tombs). Willow just thought it would be nice to have a place to remember you, since there was not really a body to mourn. He's now completely in shock, unsure if you are a ghost or no. Well, there's the spaceship, sure, but, that's a bit unbelievable. He doesn't even know what to say. He's happy, sure, but that doesn't feel real at all for him.

Swapfell Sans - He was really happy to discover you're actually alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere. Well, at least until you tell him you got abducted by aliens. Nox suddenly falls silent, then keeps looking between your face and your stomach. Nah man, that's too much for him. He runs home like the devil is chasing him and locks all the doors and windows. If your stomach needs to explode and deliver some random alien baby that will eat everyone, do it outside. He doesn't want to know. It will take three days to convince him you are in fact not infested with an alien parasite. He still doesn't trust you, but he tolerates you inside lol.

Swapfell Papyrus - Well the Rus you knew is not the same. After you disappeared, he kinda gave up on everything and lost the will to do anything. Instead, you meet with his brother, who is both terrified of you and relieved. When you go to see Rus, he thinks you're a hallucination and completely ignores you, and he will for a good month before realizing you're here to stay and sometime later that you're actually real. Little step by little step.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He's not sure is believing you, despite the spaceship. It's not that he doesn't want to believe you, but it seems too big to believe, and it feels like you're searching for an apology for giving up on him. Wine has trust issues and won't be fully the same anymore, even if he'll forgive you eventually and accept that something crazy actually happened to you. It's just... It still hurts. He struggles to forget the few years without you.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Unfortunately, Wine finds you first. Wine is NOT happy you abandoned his precious baby brother and before you can even say a word, he attacks you lol. How dare you come back after all these years? Don't you know how much you hurt Coffee? Like hell he's letting you get close again! Eventually, he'll calm down, but not after beating the living hell out of you. First he hits, then he tries to understand. Well, that's very awkward when he realizes he had beaten you for something you're not really responsible for... At least Coffee is happy to see you. He won't let you go ever again. Poor guy is even more scared of being abandoned now.

Special mentions:

Horrorswap Papyrus - He's so relieved you're alright. He never stopped believing you would come home, despite everyone saying it's hopeless. He just knows. When he learns you got tortured for a few years though, he can't stop apologizing for you. The guy quite know the feeling, and he's so sorry you had to experience it as well. At least you two can try to recover together now. He's glad you're home.

Outertale Sans - Ah. First time? That happens. Those aliens are quite curious you know. Maybe next time take a beacon with you so, you know, he doesn't get worried and just knows you're actually just having a party with a random species? Ah, you got tortured? Ah... Uh... He looks at his feet and doesn't dare to meet your eyes again. Yeah, he forgot aliens could do that too.

[huenation]

try again / cyj

word count: 2,172

genre: angst, comfort, friends to exes to friends to lovers

warnings: self deprecative jokes, heavy on the mutual pining, bad household, and that moment when u don’t know who u are XD (happens to us all <3)

synopsis: the line of being friends and in love got messy with your past breakup but in your case, was it ever really there if you’ve both never stopped loving each other? ★ prompt addition

soundtrack: try again by jaehyun, d.ear

“thanks.” yeonjun says looking directly at you though you don’t meet his eyes, too caught in making sure the cup of hot chocolate you give him doesn’t spill. you smile and settle down adjacent to him, missing the way he watches you even if it’s so briefly. he glows just about every time he looks at you but considering it’s been years since you’ve allowed yourselves to be romantic towards one another (since the breakup), you always miss it. that, and you’re also oblivious.

“so, you wanted to talk?” contrary to the casualness of your tone, you’re actually so anxious you could throw up. yeonjun’s wide smile falters, glow in his eyes following, and he sets his drink down beside him he’s also filled with anxiety.

“yeah, i do,” he pauses. “i think we should continue our chat from the other night, and i also know you want to talk, y/n.”

oh yeah. that one.

one would think that after years that a past relationship would not be on the forefront of your mind and your heart but it was. you never really felt like you could move on, always missing closure and never having stopped loving yeonjun. but you kept that part to yourself, feeling like he would be much better off with someone else even if you’re past that hurdle in your life that had brought you two to separate in the first place (among other things).

it was a fun night out at a busy cafe, in a circular booth with your friends. yeonjun had gone to go order a pastry but came back, frantic, asking for advice or what he should say to someone he thought was super and had been in line behind him, unsure of how to go about showing his interest.

in response, like you always do, you joked about he came to the worst people for advice since you and all your friends are currently single. beomgyu just laughed along, the others adding on other reasons that were mainly comedic value.

that is until the next thing you said. well, the other guys giggled, too, since you both only ever referred to your failed relationship with jokes, or rather you did. it was just a thing that you hardly ever took things seriously, so happy go lucky and keeping things lighthearted even if most of your jokes orbited your self deprecation (within reason — you had plenty of other content for your jokes).

you joked about the most confounding evidence as to why he shouldn’t ask you for dating advice; he had dated you and you broke up with him.

in between stirring around some of his foam at the bottom of his drink, kai asked, “oh yeah, why did you guys break up? it’s been so long.” you snorted, shaking the ice of your drink. “guys, be for real, obviously, i’m obviously just the weird detour you take before you find the right person you wanna be with. you could have a real shot with this person.”

“okay but — ” you were giggling still. “when you guys get married, i’ll be able to thank myself for being at my worst then.

yeonjun scowled at that. “why?” all the other’s conversations seemed to happen around the two of you, distracted by something else.

“‘cause. you deserved better then and maybe this’ll be the person you were deserving along. and i can finally tell myself that we broke up for a good reason.”

your voice had been so still and quiet, yeonjun’s heart shattering, while you ripped the lid off your plastic cup. so nonchalant. he stared at you for a moment before pushing off the table and taking a step back.

“that wasn’t helpful, y/n.” he had said quietly to you. you simply rolled your eyes playfully, lighthearted smile to balance, snickering along beomgyu and soobin to whatever they were bantering about. kai and taehyun on the other side had tossed out random tips that obviously didn’t work for them.

“come on, jun, you don’t need to worry. she’s obviously gonna like you.” you muttered nonchalantly, so confident that the distant shatter of your heart was out of sight and ear, even in the face of the man you’ve never stopped loving.

“i doubt it, but i guess, i’ll still try. better than nothing…” he said quietly.

“well, good luck, jun.” you told him dismissively while trying to get the remaining toppings to your iced drink, unseeing of the way yeonjun frowned as he walked away.

you only half remembered what you’d said that day. all that was positive was that you had said too much. yeonjun on the other hand had remembered everything.

“hey, you know what i just remembered? did that girl ever text you? ‘cause you guys did exchange phone numbers, right?” he blinks a few times, carefully watching your face, before he shakes his head. his pretty raven hair comes down almost to his shoulders, so much longer than the boyish trim look he’d had when you two dated. despite that much, you think he hasn’t changed one bit.

“well yeah, we did, but i never actually texted her.”

“oh.” an unsettled moment of silence falls between you two. you’re focused on a certain stain on the table below you guys.

“listen, y/n — ” he starts and you wince, already trying to dismiss him from initiating, even if it is rude to interrupt. “no, yeonjun, i think, no, i know we never really talked about why i ended things between us. and look, i know you… you respected my decision and understood me even if it was so sudden and over a reason i didn’t disclose entirely, but, oh god — “ he notices your eyes are welling with tears, a bitter but annoyed smile on your face because of it. he knows how much you hate showing your weakness, let alone being vulnerable.

his heart pounds in his chest. he would give anything so that you could stay smiling and happy, anything but this. this hurts. “i’m a different person now than i was then, and-and you deserve to know what happened.”

your voice breaks. yeonjun’s gripping on his (your) mug so tightly his knuckles are white, the cute little bow of his mouth shaking, eyes watering so enough to sting, his throat burns with the urge to bawl as you tell him.

because of everything going on in your house those few years ago, fragments of your family that got under your skin and poisoned you, the tortuous process of trying to leave, battling the old you and the new you, and the weight of everything else, including your new boyfriend (yours truly) and insecurities for being good for him, it’s easy to say you weren’t at a place to be in love, certainly with the people around you who made sure you felt like you didn’t deserve it either.

even though you were all friends for much longer before you got together, god knows you and yeonjun had been pining for one another for years, it became too much, knowing that things were getting too real.

you were at your lowest. yeonjun was always as sweet and caring to you as ever, but instead, his actions made you feel worse. you could hardly give him an ounce of what he deserved in return. if you had the energy to talk to him, it’d end in arguments that you walked away from, too tired to continue.

it seemed like it was time to close that chapter instead of prolonging the pain. you didn’t know who you were then. and you knew yeonjun deserved better than what you were giving him, even if you weren’t exactly be transparent.

years went on. neither of you ever really settled down, just little flings here and there that you’d support each other on, but none of those ever stayed. (he and you made no effort to make them stay…) you always joke about your relationship, since it was so long ago, about how failed it was and naive you were then. at first, yeonjun did joke about your failed relationship, but he couldn’t bring himself to — not when he had known that you really did love him and he certainly has never stopped loving you.

you disclose certain details but hide other specific ones, trying not to give away too much of the fact that you’re really a vulnerable thing who still hasn’t grown up after all these years. it’s a hard thing to keep up a facade that conceals the truth.

when the dust of it all settles, silence falling in the mix, he hears it first before he sees it: your tear drops on the table near your wringing hands. and like clockwork, they come to swipe them off like they were never there in the first place, but yeonjun stops you, speed before your very eyes register it, carding your face in his hand from his side on the table. he leans over his corner of your furniture like it’s nothing.

your eyes give you away.

the relief but tide of emotions feels second to letting yourself be hit by a wave, feelings that have been locked away for such a long time. at least a moment reveals so.

with a soft laugh, you drop your gaze with a sniffle and try to shrug him off, an attempt to pretend that didn’t happen. it’s all you can do not to cave in and admit the mess that you clearly are in front of him, especially when you feel his touch. but he doesn’t budge.

“i wish you wouldn’t do that.” his own voice betrays him, so unstable and choking up on him. you blink through the muddle of tears growing. “what?”

“think of yourself so lowly. you have so much importance and you mean so much to the people in your life. it has never and it will never matter which point you are in life, whether at you’re worst or best or in between, you will always be capable of being loved. you have never deserved anything less.”

he wishes he could add, ‘and i wanna make sure you know that’. in due time, he hopes. in due time.

you’re wetting his hand with your tears. your stomach is curling and curling, chest buzzing, lips fumbling as your body wrestles with the tide of wanting to bawl like a child.

yeonjun gently swipes the wetness on your cheeks, smiling sweetly, patiently, and so full of love. it breaks your heart a thousand times over than it did the first time when you’d broken up with him.

not once have you ever really stopped loving him.

“i wish you knew that… you didn’t have to prove that you’re worthy enough to be loved. you being you was enough for me. you being you is more than enough,” you let out a sound between a cry and yelp, one that shows exactly how crooked and darling your smile is even if tears stain your cheeks. “i‘m sorry i never said it enough, but i’ve been in love with you for so stupidly long.”

his thumb dares to brush so gently over the corner of your lips, just the way he used to do. his eyes skin across your face so carefully. his stomach twists once his mouth opens,

“so, cards out on the table, y/n, i wanna try again. i know it’s not my place to demand something like this from you, but… it’s how i feel,” you don’t say anything, blinking eyes meeting his, in beats of silence broken by shaky breaths and sniffles. he smiles again despite his nervousness. “and you don’t have to agree or anything. again, it’s just how i feel. i’d only want to try but if you do, too, for you to say yes when you’re ready.”

he fumbles with shutting down a ghost of ‘my love’ as an ending to his statement, like he always would say in the past. he can’t help it.

you give him a genuine smile, one that reaches your eyes, and one that he misses every single moment you spend not smiling. such proximity and joy trickles distant memories in colorful explosions behind your eyes in a kaleidoscope of nostalgia. a knowing look is exchanged between you, no words.

it speaks more than none that you understand him and are infinitely thankful. you say so through mouthed words. he nods slowly in acknowledgement. you can feel it down to the marrow of your bones…

oh, how you’ve missed him.

“okay, i’ll let you know when i’m ready, yeonjun. it won’t be that long, just so you know,” you say wetly, sniffling and clearing your thin voice. yeonjun smiles, too, for a change. remember when he didn’t used to smile so much? “i’ve been waiting my whole life to try again with you and even longer to let you know better that i love you, too.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

note: i loveddddd this idea that was an addition on to my silly little prompt so badly you don’t even know 😭😭😭😭😭 it’s probably obvious but this was heavily inspired by certain plot details in ‘new girl’ shoutout to nick miller <3 (not sure if i should stick with this lowercase format or not… either way ~) tysm for reading!

[chiharuhashibira]

Hi new friend *giggle excitedly* do you make request? Can I request Sanemi x Reader Cloud by 1D 😊😊☺️

Of course~ We can do it ^^

It's for Nemi and for yah soooooo why not?! 😚

Here's my KNY rendition of 1D's Clouds 🤭

Prepare your tissues and your eyes XD

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅𝒔

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Content Warnings: None ^^

Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance

(Image isn't mine, credits to the rightful owner)

You were engrossed in thought as you saw the sky above you from the engawa. The cloud's predominant white colour triggers a memory of a white-haired guy from your past whom you haven't seen in over a year.

It's been a whole year since you last communicated. A year after ending the on-and-off relationship with the Wind Hashira. Since Sanemi was the centre of your life, you can't help but feel anxious and wonder whether there will ever be another chance to see him again.

It appears that arguments were a normal occurrence throughout your previous relationship. But this breakup is different from your past cool-offs with him. It's you who said that things don't work, and you should both work things out for yourselves if you ever want to go back with each other.

Back then, you always told him that you should keep things simple, as love isn't supposed to be complicated. But perhaps he's right? Love is never simple, and if it were, you wouldn't be sitting here alone, caressing the empty space beside you as tears streamed down your face.

"I swear you'll wish you never left me."

And yes, Sanemi is absolutely correct; at this point, you are wishing that you had never actually parted ways with him since you have no idea what to do. It is as if, all of a sudden, you are a young child who is looking for something. Slaying demons at night has become your go-to method for putting an end to these intrusive thoughts; you feel that if you don't, you'll die from solitude.

You always thought that you both had everything figured out. But no, it was all a fantasy, as both of you view love in a different way.

And now that a year has passed, you are surviving without Sanemi but definitely feeling like a wreck.

You remembered how his hands felt whenever he touched you. Beneath that harsh attitude, Sanemi always had that sweet side, which is only focused on loving you. You can still picture how he used to sit next to you at this same engawa and tell you everything. And you love it. You miss it so bad.

You missed how you used to breathe the same air as him and how his lilac eyes looked at you with too much passion. You wished to see the things that he had seen in you. You wanted Sanemi to be back, but how?

It was you who ended things, and now he is gone.

And by the last time that you had uttered goodbye, you had seen how his heart was broken into pieces. You can't forget both of your deafening sobs as you hugged him for the last time. The tears in his eyes—if you could only stop those, you would.

"Damn it. I miss you, Sanemi."

"I miss you too."

Your heartbeats went faster this time as you heard a familiar voice. You immediately looked up, and instead of the clouds, it was Sanemi that you had seen. You gulped and immediately stood up, embracing him, which astounded him.

You felt his hands snake on your body, and there, you found the courage to look at his face through your tears. Sanemi caressed your cheek, wiping your tears away with his calloused thumb. You can remember how he used to do this even before your breakup.

The look in Sanemi's eyes when he was looking at you right now was one of intense concentration. He is not smiling. As a consequence of this, the seconds seemed like an hour, and the minutes seemed like days. You were patient and waited for him to speak.

Then, without any words, Sanemi leaned in to give you a passionate but quick kiss on the lip. You felt as if it was the first time. Suddenly, the world felt calmer. Your breaths synced with one another as you slowly kissed back, letting your tears escape your eyes again.

This isn't a dream; it's true. Sanemi's here with you now. His warmth continued to embrace you as he pulled out and patted your head.

"Y/N, I missed you so much. I still love you. I tried to forget you, but I couldn't, so I decided to make peace with myself and be better for you. I know you were tired of me before, but could you give me a second chance to prove myself to you again?"

So he came back! You can't believe the words that you are hearing right now. A part of you is scared to try again because of your past. But a bigger part of you wants to try it all. You want to be with Sanemi so bad. You want to continue your promises.

Without further ado, you nodded and embraced him tightly, resting your head on the crook of his neck and inhaling his scent.

Sanemi was so stunned that he couldn't believe what he was hearing at the moment that he reached for your hands, then smacked himself in the face with both of them. "Are you joking around? I cannot express how much this made me happy." He then gave you another kiss, claiming you as his own, and whispered that to you.

You caressed his face and looked into his eyes; there, you could see your reflection once again. You can breathe the air that he breathes. You love this man so much. He caressed your face too and rested his forehead against yours.

"I'll do my best to make you the happiest girl in the world. Here we go again, and this time, we're never coming back down."

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐 ��𝒖𝒄𝒉!

I know it is short but, I hope you'll love this @unofficialmuilover~

Love yah and see you on my other fics!

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

[safarigirlsp]

Happy Fuckin’ Birthday

Happy Fuckin' Birthday

Flip Zimmerman x Lawyer Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Angst, maybe? Comedy. Abuse of process. Hazing Flip for his birthday, as one should. Birthday pranks. Bitchy Reader. If you want a sweet, submissive, shy reader, my fics are never for you xD

AO3 Link

A little birthday celebration for Scorpio season! I had this written timely on November 19, but just forgot to post it. Whoops!

Turning forty wasn’t something Flip Zimmerman was overly excited about. It had nothing to do with the usual dramatics and neuroses that plagued most people. He didn’t have any deep regrets in life; he hadn’t taken any stupid turns or failed to seize any major opportunities; he didn’t have a ‘one that got away’ – the things in life that can add up to a mid-life crisis or make a man dread the passage of years. He had the woman he wanted, the job he wanted, and for the most part, the life he wanted. Flip didn’t give a damn about the number of candles on his cake. What annoyed the hell out of him was the production everyone else in his life had to make over it. That might rank as one of his bigger regrets in life, telling people close to him when his damn birthday was. His birthday would be a perfectly fine day, if no one else knew about it.

To Flip, his birthday was just another day on the calendar. But could everyone else in his life ever treat it that simply? Fuck no.

Flip never took the day off for his birthday. He immediately lost respect for any man who did that. Women got a pass with such frivolous and indulgent things, but men had no business pampering themselves like candy asses. This year was poised to be a little extra good for Flip since his birthday fell over a weekend. He could guiltlessly spend it exactly how he wanted, which was also how he’d spend every other day of his life if he was free from all financial, vocational, and social obligations. Flip wanted to spend his birthday weekend hidden away in his cabin, sleeping, eating, and fucking just as much as he wanted, and not doing a damned thing else or talking to a damned person other than his girl.

So far, Flip’s birthday weekend had been precisely what he wanted. Starting Friday night, he had gotten his birthday wish in quantities sufficient to appease all his ravenous hungers. Saturday had been the same, and it had been glorious. He had put on a damn fine show for his girl, if he did say so himself. He figured it was the best way to demonstrate he was a vigorous man in his prime, not a doddering old bastard. Flip had allowed his lady to finagle him into sharing a steaming hot bath with her after dinner to break up the pattern. He didn’t want to admit how good it felt on his aching muscles. Even though it was only due to all the extra use over the past two days, or rather, due to the gross lack of use during the other days of the year, Flip knew his sore muscles would be used against him on his fortieth birthday. All the running and weightlifting in the world wasn’t really the same as the workout a man gets from a marathon between the sheets. He knew he was in for a generous ration of shit for his birthday, not least of all from his girl. He’d wonder what was wrong if she wasn’t giving him hell. Still, it was best not to load the guns for her.

Flip defined ‘sleeping in’ differently than most. He had been conditioned by his days in the military to be up before sunrise and ready to meet every battle with the dawn. He felt extremely lazy and indulgent when he let the sunrise wake him as it first peaked over the mountains and into his bedroom window. This attitude was in stark contrast to his wife, who considered mornings in general to be a vile institution and often bitched about how morning people were given entirely too much power in society.

Dawn on Flip’s birthday was one of those crystalline winter mornings where the light was tinted a soft pink-blue-white and frost coated everything in sight like icing on a diamante cake. It had snowed several inches during the night and outside the window, the mountains were gleaming spires, the ground was covered with fresh powder, and the pines wore a layer of snow like fancy ladies swaddled in white mink. Snowy mornings like this were Flip’s favorite kind of morning, when everything was still pristine and sparkling with promise. Before any bullshit settled in.

Groaning contentedly, Flip stretched as the sunlight danced across his face. He was still a little sore in all the places he wanted to be, and he was rock hard and ready for a proper good morning.

So far, forty felt great.

Half asleep, he turned and nuzzled his nose into the soft warm body lying curled next to him. A soft, warm, furry body. Grumbling and pulling his face away, Flip opened his bleary eyes and glared through his disheveled hair at the fat, black cat he had inherited when he had begun living with his girl. Some men have worse step kids to deal with, he reasoned now as the adorable black asshole looked back at him through slitted green eyes, as if she was just as entitled to sleep in his bed as he was. Narrowing his own eyes back at the cat, he asked her, “Where’s your mom at?”

His question was answered by the clanging of a pot on the stove downstairs and a couple choice curses in a familiar feminine voice. Now fully awake, Flip became aware of the scent of bacon, eggs, and pancakes – his favorites – and strong black coffee just how he liked it. This was a rare treat. Flip usually assumed the duty of cooking breakfast on the days they could enjoy it together. Hearing his girl down in the kitchen, slaving away over the stove at such an unconscionable hour, as she deemed it, made him grin at the effort she put in for him.

“Your mom’s a keeper,” he confided to the cat and patted her round belly. “But you’re a sorry little porker.”

Flip stretched again and ran a hand through his unruly hair. He thought he should brush it before going downstairs, but he knew how she liked it when he looked a little wilder than usual. She liked him best when he smelled fresh from a shower but looked unbrushed, unshaven, and what he thought was mildly unkempt. Women are nonsensical creatures, he had realized early in his dating career. He damn sure needed to brush his teeth and wash his face though. He pulled on the pair of jeans he wore the day before and the flannel shirt he had thrown across the room the night before, only bothering to button two of the center buttons. The phone he’d left in his jeans pocket buzzed insistently against his ass.

Should have turned the fuckin’ thing off, he lamented as he retrieved it and saw the tirade of missed calls. He knew what all those calls meant. But as long as he ignored them, he had plausible deniability, as the bloodsucking lawyers say. As his girl would say. He lost his phone; his battery died; service is bad out at his place; his wife threw it at his head and it broke against the wall.

Against his better judgment, and because it was Stallworth calling and Flip didn’t feel right about ignoring his best friend, he answered.

“What,” Flip grunted, leaving no doubt as to his feelings over this intrusion. He thought to himself, This is the beginning of a bad fuckin’ day.

“Good morning to you too,” Ron said in his easy, affable tone. “It’s a beautiful day out, isn’t it?”

“I have a feelin’ I’m not gonna think so after you tell me why in the hell you’re calling.” Flip walked sullenly to the bathroom while Stallworth ran through some pleasantries. Thankfully, he didn’t lead with Happy Birthday. Flip would have hung up on him. Flip lifted the toilet seat and unzipped his jeans.

“We just got a big break in that jewel heist case. Actually, I did. On a stakeout last night,” Ron said proudly, then paused. “Are you taking a piss while I’m talking to you?”

“We’d both be happier if you weren’t talkin’ to me, but you called,” Flip muttered and flushed the toilet. He held the phone toward the bowl so Stallworth could hear the rush of water, mimicking Flip’s interest in the matter.

“You’re a barbarian, you know that?” Stallworth laughed despite himself.

“Flattery don’t do it for me,” Flip said as he ran the sink, letting the water warm. He noticed four angry red scratches on the side of his neck from his girl’s fingernails and felt a rush of pride. “Go out and catch your jewel thief and take all the glory. Girls love that shit.” He splashed his face with hot water and lathered it with his soapy hands. “I’ll read all about your heroics in the paper.”

“It’s not that simple,” Ron said regretfully. “We need you on this one. You know I wouldn’t be calling if we didn’t.”

“I’m off. It’s a Sunday. And it’s,” he just stopped himself from saying my fuckin’ birthday. “Too fuckin’ early.”

“You think I like being the guy who has to roust the bear out of his cave?” Ron tried to joke to his entirely unreceptive audience. “We need you. Get dressed and get your ass out here.”

“God damnit.” Flip hung up and shoved his phone back in his pocket. Oh yeah, it’s gonna be a great day, he thought. Aloud, he grumbled to his reflection in the mirror, “Happy fuckin’ birthday, you old bastard.”

*******************************************************************************************

A scalding droplet of bacon grease jumped from the sizzling cast iron pan to land on your exposed thigh, making you cuss under your breath as you quickly wiped it away. You were always extra prickly in the morning. Flip deserves a nice birthday breakfast, you reminded yourself and inhaled deeply, deep enough to force a good mood down your throat along with the chilly morning air. Also in honor of his birthday, you opted for a casually sexy look as opposed to something more comfortable like pajama pants and a tank. You wore only one of his favorite shirts, worn until it was soft as velvet, and slippers. Early on you had realized he liked that look on you and something about seeing you in his clothes appealed to his innate possessiveness.

It was chilly inside the cabin, save for the heat from the stove. On cold winter mornings like this the little cabin furnace had to work overtime just to keep the pipes from freezing. To really get the temperature up in the cabin, a fire needed to be lit in the living room fireplace, but you were not that ambitious before sunrise and would leave it to Flip.

As you thought of him, you heard the wooden stairs creak and knew he was descending them. His footfalls were always light, he moved agility for such a large man. You pretended not to hear him and moved to the side of the stove, leaning forward in a provocative invitation under the guise of fiddling with the coffee maker. Predictably, Flip took the bait and wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing his chest against your back and molding his body against yours. But his arms enfolded you chastely around your waist and his hands didn’t roam higher or lower to seek out their favorite places.

“Happy birthday, old man,” you purred, rubbing your ass back against him. You felt he was wearing jeans and turned inside his arms to face him. He was fully dressed, right down to his boots. “You’re violating your own self-imposed dress code, or rather lack thereof, for this weekend.”

“I have good news for you, sugar,” Flip told you with a grin and kissed you deeply. “You get to sleep in today after all.”

“You mean after we succumb to a food and orgasm coma in a couple hours?” You grinned back. “I’d call that a nap, but suit yourself.”

“I got a call,” Flip started.

“We agreed no phones this weekend!” you cut across him, instantly bristling. “That was your rule. I have a big trial Monday and I’ve been ignoring my phone for a day and a half already. You better be joking.”

“You of all people know rules are made to be broken,” Flip tried again, still maintaining his grin that now looked moronic to you.

“I’m sore everywhere from you wanting to act like a horny teenager all day yesterday.” You raised a dangerous eyebrow. “I got up when it was still dark to freeze in your kitchen and get burned by grease to cook for you on your birthday, and you’re taking calls?” Your voice had dropped an octave and sounded deceptively calm. Flip knew these were very bad signs.

“I didn’t even take my phone out of my pocket yesterday. Ron caught me off guard this mornin,’” Flip used a reasoning tone, like he would when talking to a jumper. It didn’t help your darkening mood. “But listen, there’s been a big break in that jewel heist Ron and I’ve been workin.’ He got a tip, a hot tip, on where we can catch the bastard. But it’s tonight.”

“And Ron needs you to hold his hand for this escapade?” you asked testily.

“Well, he’s still a little green on things like this.” Flip rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor. He always did that when he was in trouble, like a grounded boy trying to look contrite. “I can eat breakfast real quick with you before I go.”

“Real quick?” you laughed sarcastically. “Just what every girl wants to hear?”

“How about I eat somethin’ else before I head out.” He winked at you, trying his best to lighten your mood.

“Yes, I’ve always loved the wham, bam, thank you, ma’am approach.” You glared at him. “How long will you be gone?”

“Well, I have to go in now to go over everything and get briefed before I go out to nab the bastard.” Knowing he was digging his hole deeper, he muttered the next confession. “And it’s at some fancy party down at the Broadmoor tonight. They figure I’d be better to walk in there and get the job done. That reminds me, I’ll need you to pick out a nice suit for me.”

“Let me make sure I understand you correctly.” You stepped away from him, beyond arm’s reach. “You’re leaving me alone today – on your day off, on a weekend, on your birthday – to go out to a swanky party at the Broadmoor while I wait here until you decide to show up again?” You raised your eyebrows. “And then, let me guess – when you get home, late, I’m sure, you want me to feed you dinner and fuck you all night again. Or will you have eaten dinner at your soiree?”

“Sugar, you know I can’t control the timing of these things,” Flip said regretfully. “Breakfast looks great. You look delicious. I don’t want to leave, you know that.” He shook his head and asked exasperatedly, “What do you want me to do?”

“It’s your birthday.” You crossed your arms over your chest and narrowed your eyes. “So, it’s your choice.”

Flip had been in enough life and death situations to know he was approaching one now. But he didn’t have much choice. “I have to go in. But I’ll be as quick as I can and I’ll see you tonight. I’ll make it up to you tonight, sugar.”

“This is such bullshit, Flip.” You were fully angry now. Flip knew he was going to be in trouble for a while. “I blew off my responsibilities to let you fuck me as much as you wanted this weekend, and what do I get? You blowing me off to run out and try to catch some petty thief? What happens if you don’t catch this guy today? You have no personal consequences. If I screw up at my job, I lose business and lose actual income, and still, I’ve been blowing off my duties for you this weekend. But you have to strut out to make an arrest now, just so you can dick wave.”

“C’mon, darlin,’” Flip pleaded, holding his arms out, as if you’d run into them. “It’s not like that.”

“No, it’s exactly like that.” You shook your head and shoved past him toward the stairs. “If you’re going to work today, so am I. I have a hearing to prep for, and at least I can bill three-fifty an hour. I’ll be late too.” You paused at the bottom of the stairs to twist the knife a little more. “Since you let these criminals interfere in our lives, maybe I’ll take your thief’s case pro bono after you arrest him and get him off in court instead of getting you off in bed.”

“Calm the fuck down!” Flip lost his temper and instantly regretted it. He calmed his own voice and added, “It’s not that big of a deal. Quit pullin’ your lawyer shit on me.”

“Are you having a senior moment? You must be getting old, after all,” you snapped and stormed up the stairs. “Don’t worry. Maybe we’ll celebrate your birthday next year.”

“You don’t think you’re overreacting just a little?” Flip asked foolishly.

“Not just yet, I’m not.” Halfway up the staircase you turned, pulled off a slipper, and threw it across the room at him. Flip ducked just in time to avoid a perfectly aimed headshot.

“You missed!” Flip bellowed triumphantly then added a cocky laugh.

You didn’t miss your second shot. You whipped your other slipper with more sting, sending it flying right into his chest with a satisfying whap. Then you turned on your heel and trotted up the stairs.

“Love you, sugar!” Flip shouted sarcastically after you. His face was hot and the thick vein in his neck pulsed angrily.

“Happy fucking birthday!” You slammed the bedroom door.

*******************************************************************************************

The drive into the station seemed longer than usual, possibly because Flip spent the better part of it grinding his teeth and strangling the steering wheel in a white-knuckled death grip. He was not at all amused when Stallworth met him at the station door holding a cane.

“Take it easy, old guy,” Stallworth said, offering him the cane. “Need a hand getting to your desk?”

“You’ll need a hand pullin’ that cane out of your ass if you don’t get it out of my face.” Flip shoved past his friend and made his way to his desk, waving off several other old jokes and happy birthdays. His menacing glare would be enough to make strangers piss their pants. Sadly, his co-workers at the station knew this was mostly posturing and it did little to deter them.

Chief Bridges was waiting for Flip at his desk, leaning against it intrusively. He wore a shit-eating grin and said with every indicia of seriousness, “Forty, huh? You know what that means, Zimmerman. It’s time to re-take your firearms training. Maybe driving too. Make sure you’re not slipping as an old man. A man’s aim is the first thing to go.”

“Fuck you,” Flip growled irritably. “I’m in better shape now than I was in my twenties.”

“It’s worse than I feared.” Bridges grinned. “Sometimes, the mind goes first.”

“Forty’s not all that old,” Stallworth came to Flip’s defense. “For a tree or a tortoise.”

“Don’t let me catch you trying to get little blue pills off any trafficking suspects.” Bridges waved a finger at Flip. “I’ve had to write up more old farts for that in this department than you want to know.”

“Not one of my complaints.” Flip smirked. “You sound like you have some personal experience in that department, Chief.”

“I’m glad you’re a cocky sonofabitch, Zimmerman. And a ladies man. It makes this part of the job a helluva lot more fun for me,” Bridges said and Flip’s smirk melted away. “A ladies man is just what the doctor ordered for this sting. Turns out our jewel thief is a broad! Can you believe it? Word says she’s going to the event at the Broadmoor tonight and she’ll be wearing a black dress. All you have to do is sidle up to her, blow whatever smoke up her ass you need to, and get her to waltz right out of the party with you and up to the room we have setup. Stallworth will be there to help make the arrest in case you need backup. You think you’ll need a hand putting handcuffs on a woman once you get her into your bedroom?”

“I can’t fuckin’ do that and you know it!” Flip exclaimed angrily, on the verge of shouting. “I’m already in deep shit with the little woman over comin’ in at all today, and you think I’m gonna go out to a party and then bring some floozy back to a hotel room? I’ll do stupid things in the line of duty, but that’s a death sentence. No fuckin’ way.”

“Scared of a dame, are you, Zimmerman?” Bridges poked.

“I’m scared of the one I have at home,” Flip huffed indignantly. “I’d be a fool not to be. She’d string you up right alongside me, Chief. Find someone else. Ron’s single.”

“Our thief’s a tall gal. A woman won’t be interested in a man who’s shorter than she is, now will she? You’re the only man in the department who’ll be taller than her in heels.” Bridges looked at Stallworth and shrugged. “There’s a height requirement on this ride, and Ron’s several inches too short.”

“Just put a tail on her and grab her when she goes to the ladies room,” Flip suggested. “Easy.”

“If you haven’t noticed, the CSPD has been written up in the paper about once a month this whole year. All you overeager assholes making scenes and causing property damage during arrests,” Bridges chided both men, who had each been featured prominently in various articles. “The last thing I need is some big public scene at the Broadmoor to kick off the holiday season. Do you think this is a fucking negotiation, Zimmerman?”

“There wouldn’t be any negotiation if I told you to shove it up your ass along with my badge and gun,” Flip grunted, thinking that his job was interfering too much in his enjoyment of life.

“What else are you qualified to do? Public relations? Customer service?” Bridges laughed. “Being shacked up with a high-power lawyer the way you are, you should thank me every day for this job. You think a dame like that is gonna want some unemployed grumpy sonofabitch keeping her couch from running away. I got news for you, Zimmerman, cabana boys are about fifteen or twenty years younger than you.”

“Nope, I’ll go over to the dark side.” Flip smirked again. “The Feds have been houndin’ me pretty hard lately.”

“You’re getting to be a crotchety bastard in your old age,” Bridges said dismissively. He patted Flip on the back as he started toward his office. “Quit your bitching moaning and go get the job done. The faster you get it done, the faster you can be back home with your wife.”

“Sometimes I envy those whiny bastards who call in for their birthdays,” Flip groaned to Stallworth when they were alone.

“Too late for that now,” Stallworth said brightly. “Man up.”

“Manning up has never been a problem for me.” Flip glared at him and sat down heavily in his chair.

“What happened there?” Stallworth eyed the scratches you had left on Flip’s neck, pulling his shirt collar back to get a better look. “Are you being abused? Do you need a safe house interview? Was there some animal control problem with a bobcat I missed over the weekend?”

“I guess I’ve still got it,” Flip said proudly.

“Wow, and you left her on your birthday to come down here for me?” Stallworth batted his eyes and teased, “I can’t tell you how much that means to me. I feel like that’s a big step in our relationship.”

“She already calls you my work wife.” Flip shook his head. “Watch your ass, rookie, or there’s gonna be some domestic violence in our relationship.” Flip slumped in his chair, highly unamused and gestured for Ron to get on with it.

“Want me to talk slow when I go over this, old timer?” Stallworth teased, holding the casefile.

“Not in the fuckin’ mood.” Flip glared at his friend, not teasing at all. He snatched the file from Stallworth and slapped it down open on his desk. He was going to get this shit over with as fast as humanly possible. He retrieved a pair of glasses with large lenses and tortoise rims from his shirt pocket, a new addition to his wardrobe. He only recently capitulated to wearing them on occasion. But only for reading. He narrowed his eyes at Stallworth in anticipation. “Not a fuckin’ word.”

Before Flip could take in much on the first page, a commotion from the front of the station drew his attention. An argument and raised voices along with the shuffling of papers, all boded nothing good in a police station. Flip shoved up from his desk and hurried to see the cause of the uproar. Several officers argued with a fat little man who was so short Flip could only see the shiny top of his greasy bald scalp hovering chest level to the average sized officers around him. Dan Goldleaf was a private investigator who served papers in his spare time, one of the lowest forms of ilk to a cop, just above pedophiles and traffickers. Worst of all, the human shitstain worked for most of the defense lawyers in town.

When Flip approached the unruly spectacle, the trollish man excitedly waved the papers in his hand. He was gelatinously fat, and his whole body jiggled with the movement. He flashed a golden smile as he waddled to Flip. He pushed the papers into Flip’s chest and announced, “Here ya go, Zimmerman!” Quick as a ferret, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture of Flip holding the papers in a clenched fist, a deadly glare on his face. Goldleaf straightened to his full height of around five feet and popped the lapels of his brown jacket, crackling a fresh mustard stain. The gaudy gold rings on every fat sausage finger glittered in the fluorescent lights. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Flip wanted to squish the greasy troll like a slug, but there were too many witnesses for that now. He looked at the crumpled papers he held in his fist and backed to the wall until his back was pressed against it. It kept him from pacing like a caged animal. He had been served with a formal looking document consisting of several pages. The papers had been sent by the law firm of Dewey, Cheatum & Howe. It began with:

CANDICE GOODING,

                        Petitioner,

 Vs.                                                                             

PHILIP ZIMMERMAN,

                        Respondent.

VERIFIED PETITION TO ESTABLISH PATERNITY

            COMES NOW the Petitioner, Candice Gooding, by and through undersigned counsel, Rob Cheatum, and in support of her Verified Petition STATES THE FOLLOWING:

“Christ, it’s a fuckin’ paternity suit from some bitch named Candice Gooding. Says she has a five-year-old kid and it’s mine! She’s comin’ after me for goddamn child support,” Flip gritted through clenched teeth. Every muscle in his body contracted and he shook with rage. He wanted to break something, or at least punch through a wall. He managed to grate out, “I don’t even know this bitch!”

“Candice Gooding,” Stallworth said slowly, enunciating every syllable, as if speaking to an idiot. “That doesn’t ring any bells?”

“It sure as hell doesn’t!” Flip was fuming, his chest flushed hot.

“What else could she call herself?” Stallworth mused, pretending to consider the issue. “Candy maybe?” Slowly, the red flush drained from Flip’s face until he was unusually pale. “Candy Goodie, maybe? Ring any bells now? Wasn’t she an ex-girlfriend some five, six years ago?”

“Motherfucker,” Flip groaned. He suddenly felt very old, as if he had aged a decade on his birthday. He leaned against the wall and knocked his head back against it roughly, as if he could bang some sense into his younger self. “She wasn’t my goddamn girlfriend, and you know it. She was just a slutty little cocktail waitress whose big dream in life was to be a stripper in Vegas where she could make the ‘big bucks.’ She was hot and easy and I fucked her a few times when I was hard up. Big deal. Any port in a storm, you know? Every girl I banged when I was footloose and fancy free wasn’t a girlfriend.”

“Guess you should have used some rubber to weather that particular storm,” Stallworth quipped, studying the papers more closely. “That candy must have been good if you went back for seconds.”

“Fuck you, buddy,” Flip said, really and truly wanting to punch something now.

“Better call your wife,” Stallworth suggested.

A look of pure terror flashed across Flip’s face for an instant before he could mask it. “Don’t you dare call her. Or tell her anything about this at all! Christ, you want to get me killed?”

“She’s a lawyer. Who do you think will be handling this for you?” Stallworth tried unsuccessfully to be helpful.

“Just haul me out back and shoot me now. Get it over with quick.” Flip dropped his head into his hands, shaking his head. “She can’t know a thing about this until I figure it out.”

*******************************************************************************************

“Hey, Sugar,” Flip crooned into the phone when you answered. “I was thinkin’ that since I have to get dressed up and put on the ritz tonight that you could get all dolled up too like you like and meet me after. I’ll take you out on the town and show you a real nice time.”

“I’m not in the mood,” you said, your tone told him you were far from appeased. “I thought you decided we were working today. And tonight.”

Flip had called while he was changing into his suit, a black one with a button up shirt in a dark shade of charcoal. He realized you had picked out one of your favorites for him that morning and it made him feel even guiltier. A nice suit usually had the effect of making him feel dashing, now it felt like he was dressing for his own funeral. Maybe I am, he thought to himself with a rueful smirk. Aloud, he said, “I know you’re mad as hell, but I promise I’ll make it up to you. I love you, sugar.”

“I’m on the clock, Flip,” you said sternly. “Something you know a lot about, right? We’ll catch up later. Whenever that might be.”

*******************************************************************************************

On the drive to the Broadmoor Stallworth informed Flip, “I called a clerk I know at the court who can verify the paternity suit on a Sunday. It’s real.”

“It’s like all my birthday wishes are comin’ true.” Flip glared out of the window, particularly eyeing the couples walking down the street, having a much better evening than he was.

Stallworth had informed Flip of all the details of their sting, how the event was in a private room of the Broadmoor, how they had booked a suite under the name of Frank Zeiss, a cover name Flip often used. All Flip had to do was find the mark, lure her up to the suite, and help Ron make the arrest. Flip didn’t even want credit. He wanted to forget everything about this day and pretend his fortieth birthday was limited to the nearly perfect Friday and Saturday he spent with his girl. Before he had to leave on call. Why in the fuck did he have to answer his damned phone this morning?

Flip stopped in at the hotel bar before seeking out the private event room. He needed a drink for this shit. He ordered an Old Fashioned and swirled the tawny liquid around in his glass. He thought of the way you always laughed at him like he was an idiot instead of suave when he tied the cherry stem in a knot with his tongue for your amusement.

As he thought of you, to his horror, you walked into the bar and aimed right for him. Wearing a sultry blue dress that hugged your curves in all the best places, he thought his girl had never looked like more of a knockout. But…

“What the hell are you doin’ here?!” Flip grabbed your arm when you got close to the bar and yanked you to him.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you said with only a hint of warning in your tone.

“I’m glad you’ve retracted your claws a bit from earlier,” Flip said in a quick, agitated voice. “But it’s not nice to see you. Not now, not here.”

“If you’re here looking for someone, shouldn’t you have your glasses on, old man?” you teased.

“Watch it, sugar.” Flip stepped closer to you until your bodies were nearly touching. “This old man was still goin’ strong when you threw in the towel last night.”

“Nice suit.” You ignored him and ran your eyes over his body. “You clean up alright.”

“This isn’t a game.” Flip fought to keep his voice low. “You could get us both hurt.”

“So serious,” you chided dismissively and placed a hand on his chest. It was endearing how nervous he was at the concern for your safety. A bead of sweat ran down from his temple. “Relax, handsome. All you have to do is stand there and look pretty, right?”

“Funny,” Flip said edgily. “Now get the hell outta here and I’ll call you when I’m done. I don’t want to be distracted by you and I don’t want you mixed up in all this.”

“Actually, I wanted to find you sooner rather than later because I got a call from a colleague. It made me think you might be in some kind of trouble.” You watched him closely as you spoke. “Or should I say, opposing counsel. A lawyer named Rob Cheatum.”

Oh, fuck. Flip’s mouth went dry and he fought to keep his expression stern and to give nothing away. “Must be important for him to call you on a Sunday.”

“Actually, he called me Friday after work. But unlike you, I followed the rules you wanted for your birthday and didn’t look at my phone until I was driving in today. That’s when I saw it. He said he’s representing some woman in a case against you.” You looked straight into his eyes. “What the fuck is he talking about, Flip?”

“Sounds like some bloodsucker out to sue the department again,” he deflected unpersuasively. “Isn’t that how you people get in the holiday spirit, by drumming up business?”

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you lost your temper and punched a suspect again,” you sighed exasperatedly. “It gets old seeing your name in the paper.”

“We all know the only animals worse than lawyers are reporters.” Flip looked around, scanning for his suspect. “All the more reason for you to get outta here until I get this thing wrapped up. You don’t want to be included in a cover story with me when I cause a scene at this party, do you?”

“I can see it now.” You spread your hands like a banner. “Grouchy old man snaps at the younger crowd out having fun.”

“I sure don’t love you for your mouth, sugar.” Flip shook his head. He saw a tall woman in a black dress walking purposefully and fixed his eyes on her like a hunting dog. But there were several women in view wearing black dresses. And what was tall, anyway? The woman was probably five-eight, although heels always threw him off. Was that tall enough to be described as very tall? Probably not. Flip had been staring at her while running these mental calculations.

“Like what you see?” you asked, more to poke him than anything. You knew he was here under the guise of working.

“Not particularly. I’d give her a seven at best,” Flip gritted out of the corner of his mouth. “I’ve got a helluva lot better at home.”

“Speaking of, how long until the woman you’ve got at home is going to get some time with you?” you asked.

“Not long.” He shrugged.

“Not an answer, Detective,” you quipped.

Flip knew you only called him Detective when you were feeling flirty or feeling as mad as a wet cat. He knew which this was. Best to remain silent, he concluded.

“You’re here to grab some suspect, a woman, I gather from your roaming eyes,” you accused and Flip’s eyes darted immediately back to you, a little wider than usual. “You’re getting served papers from strange women, too. Is this some half-assed midlife crisis? Is it time for you to embarrass yourself trying to pick up eighteen-year-olds in a new convertible?”

“Whoa, pump the brakes on the crazy train.” Flip held up his hands in surrender. “I’m innocent until proven guilty.”

“Oh, you think this is a democracy?” you scoffed. “I don’t think so. This is a monarchy, and all ways here are the Queen’s ways.”

“I’ll tell you all about it later. I promise.” Flip tried a calming tone that had zero effect. “Just let me find this woman and then we can get outta here.”

“Fine.” You put your hands on your hips.

“Don’t fine me, darlin.’” Flip mocked your posture, also putting his hands on his hips. “I know what fine means.”

“This is ridiculous. I’ll find this damn woman in black myself.” You turned on your heel and walked away.

Flip took a bounding step after you and grabbed your arm roughly, stopping you. “You’re making a fuckin’ scene.”

“Is this guy bothering you, miss?” The bartender asked, a clear warning in his voice.

You looked at Flip’s hand where he gripped your arm and cocked an eyebrow. Flip slackened his grip and you yanked your arm free. You strode purposely through the bar and toward the series of the Broadmoor event rooms. You looked over your shoulder once just to make sure Flip was following you. He was, of course, walking stiffly a few paces behind with his shoulders set and eyes narrowed, looking ready and eager to bust some heads. The hotel was crowded with holiday traffic and you both knew he couldn’t grab you again without making an even bigger scene.

At the door to the private room, Flip caught you again, grabbing the door handle in front of you and pinning you close with his body from behind. To an observer, it might look affectionate but his body was rigid against you and his tone angry, “This isn’t the time or place for you to act like a goddamn prima donna. Knock it off.”

“Just think, all this because you had to answer Ron’s call this morning.” You grinned and before he had time to process the implications of your words, you pushed his hand down on the door handle and leaned into it.

Flip stumbled into the event room right at your back, a little off balance and fuming.

“Surprise!” A chorus of voices shouted inside the room.

Flip was nearly stunned by the cacophony of light and movement and shouting assholes inside the room. He stood, still gawkily positioned mid-stumble, blinking like a deer in the headlights. There were sparkly lights and girly decorations done in black and gold, and a table set with a giant cake and a few buckets of champagne. Music blared noisily from somewhere. All his traitorous friends smiled at him, Stallworth leading the charge of ingrates. Festive lights even shimmered on the greasy dome of Goldleaf’s head. The group of traitors yelled “Surprise!” again and then broke into a terrible round of Happy Birthday. Flip straightened and smoothed a hand over his suit, trying to look dignified while feeling like an absolute jackass for falling for this shit.

There was little Flip hated more in life than surprise parties. He forced a smile and thought that maybe it wasn’t as bad as those times he’d been shot. But no. The first time, he’d gotten some really good drugs. The second time, he got six weeks off and left the hell alone. The third time had given him one of your favorite scars that made him feel even tougher than he was. No, a surprise party was far worse than getting shot.

Flip squared his shoulders and put on his game face, steeling himself to endure a long night of socializing. He pulled you to his side just a little roughly and joined his own birthday party.

*******************************************************************************************

“That party must have cost a fortune,” Flip bemoaned. “I hope you didn’t foot the bill just to torture me.”

“Not a dime, actually. The owner of the Broadmoor is a client. Or rather, his son on his eighth DWI is,” you said nonchalantly. “He’s innocent, of course. Or rather, he will be once I’m done with him.”

Flip made a noncommittal grunt, still in the throes of post-party-trauma.

“He also threw in a free suite.” You looped your arm through Flip’s and steered him toward the elevators. “I’m sure you’ll like it more.”

The suite was equipped with a private balcony and hottub for guests who liked to enjoy the snowy alpine winters along with a steaming soak and a glass of wine. Flip held the door open for you like a perfect gentleman before slamming it closed behind him after following you inside. He held you at arm’s length when you tried to close the distance between you.

“I need a shower. I’ve been sweatin’ bullets all day thanks to you.” His lips were poutier than usual as he unbuttoned his shirt. Shrugging roughly out of it, he balled it up in his hands and threw it into the furthest corner of the room. Flip paused to glare at the shirt where it landed on the floor and huff a few breaths before storming into the bathroom as he unbuckled his belt. The slam of the bathroom door reverberated through the room when he kicked it closed. He continued to grumble and cuss under his breath inside the bathroom. The few words you could make out seemed to be in vehement criticism of birthdays and surprise parties and pondering the eternal question of just how much bullshit one man can take.

Smiling to yourself at his grouchiness, you decided to wait for him in the hottub on the balcony. Steaming jets and your warm touch would be just the ticket to turn his anger into something a lot more enjoyable for you both. 

As you peeled your own clothes away, you could still hear him bitching from inside the bathroom and it made you grin. The icy air hit you when you stepped naked out onto the balcony. Goosebumps rose across your skin, breath fogged from your lips, and your nipples peaked instantly at the chill as you quickly covered the few steps to the hottub. The crisp winter air made the hot water even more welcoming, and a cloud of steam surrounded you when you lowered yourself into the bubbling water. Leaning your head back against the edge of the hottub, you felt all the tension leaving your body as you waited for Flip. 

“I’m out here,” you called when you heard him emerge. “Come keep me company.”

Flip’s face and chest were still flushed from the heat of his shower when he walked onto the balcony, scowling. Pausing to linger in the doorway, towel slung around his hips, he leaned against the doorframe. He had to fight to keep his face stern as he looked down at your bare curves sitting tantalizingly amid the steam. 

“You’re not bad lookin’ for a double agent,” he told you, sucking at his teeth.

“Evil machinations are much easier when you’re pretty,” you teased and beckoned him to join you with a curled finger. “Don’t just stand there gawking about it, handsome.”

His scowl turned into something far more devilish as he tossed his towel back into the room and lowered himself into the hottub beside you. Slinging one arm behind you along the rim of the hottub, Flip wasted no time in pulling you close. Beside you, he turned to kiss your cheek, to nuzzle his nose softly against your skin along your jaw before he moved his lips to the place below your ear. Inhaling your scent, he began to lose himself in you. His kisses drifted to your neck and turned more biting and heated when you raised your hand to stroke his cheek. 

“I’m sure sorry for takin’ that call,” he mumbled against your skin. 

“Are you?” you asked with a laugh. “We’ll see if you learn anything from it.”

“I’m a quick learner.” Flip couldn’t help but laugh as his hand trailed up your thigh. 

Turning into him, you met his lips while he teased you with his fingers. Flip kissed you hungrily, his lingering anger coming out in his eager tongue licking into your mouth, his teeth clicking against yours, and his thick fingers pushing into you. 

“We’re not done celebrating yet,” you whispered into his kiss. “Your real birthday present is that I took next week off and arranged with the chief to note you as staking out a cabin for the week.”

He laughed when you told him the location, “That’s our address.”

“Is it really?” you feigned ignorance. “I’d call it a paid vacation on the taxpayers. As someone who gets shafted by Uncle Sam almost as often as I get it from you, I see no problem at all.”

“I thought you had work tomorrow?” Flip asked, looking at you with deep lusting respect.

“You thought so, yes,” you teased. “I’m off too.”

“So, you have to put me through the ringer first to earn it, huh?” He nipped your neck.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a grouchy bastard, you wouldn’t invite being screwed with, hmmm?” You twisted your fingers into his hair. “But we’ll never know.”

“A surprise party is playin’ dirty,” he said against your neck. “That’s hittin’ below the belt.”

“Funny thing is that I agree with you.” You tugged his hair sharply enough for it to be a reprimand. “Ron badly wanted to throw you a surprise party for your fortieth. I told him that I was giving you what you really wanted for the weekend, and that you would absolutely hate a surprise party. After a debate, Ron and I agreed that if he could entice you away from me today, he could inflict his surprise party upon you and I’d help lure you into it. It was insultingly easy for him, I might add. I really thought he’d have a harder time. So, I think it’s only fair to make you suffer a little on top of it. Serves you right for leaving me for your work wife.”

“So, you all gang up on me, huh? Wonderful.” He grinned. “You almost gave me a heart attack with that fuckin’ paternity horseshit. You arranged that awfully fast.”

“I thought it was nice icing on the cake,” you grinned back. “How long do you think it takes me to type a paternity petition? Fifteen minutes tops. Goldleaf is always happy to screw with you and so is Cheatum. A good time had by all. And just think, you chose all this.” You gestured grandly to encompass the enormity of the shitshow Flip had gotten himself into, “instead of staying shut in in bed with me all day.”

“I’ll never answer my phone again unless it’s you,” Flip huffed a laugh.

Deciding he had suffered enough for now, you slung your leg over his lap to straddle him. His cock was already deliciously hard and ready for you when you sank down onto him. No matter how many times he fucked you, it was always wonderfully intense before you adjusted to accommodate him. Flip’s hands smoothed down your sides, caressing you gently now before his fingers would grip bruises into you as you rode him. He kissed your neck and rolled his hips beneath you, groaning in that heady way of his when he was losing himself in the pleasure of your body.

The water sloshed in the hottub and steam whirled around you both as he fucked an orgasm out of you and followed you down into a warm, blissful afterglow. After several moments, cock still buried inside of you, he kissed your neck a few final times and raised his head to look at you with a satisfied grin.

“I hope this birthday was one to remember, old timer,” you teased as you moved your hands to rub the knots in his broad shoulders. “Forty’s a big one.”

“I really hate birthdays,” was his only grumbled response. 

“Spoken just like a grumpy old man,” you said amid a fresh stream of soft laughter. 

“Real funny, sugar.” Flip nipped at your skin before pulling you close again for round two. “Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”

*******************************************************************************************

© safarigirlsp 2023

Tagging some buddies! 

@babbushka @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather @mrs-gucci @mrs-zimmerman @iamburdened @gabesprincess @rynwritesstuff @candycanes19 @caillea @cas-backwards-tie @queeniebee @mythrielofsolitude @ghoulian13 @icarusinthesea @reyloaddict55 @fizzywoohoo @heartlight-starlight @richbrittstein @clydesfavoritegirl @thepalaceofmelanie @celiholland @reveluving @vedavan @reylokisses @queen-of-elves @srorgana1 @kyloremus @looking4mymagicshop @lumberjack00fantasies

[lovemybluebully]

Loser Logan

X-men '97-verse

Post Episode 4 (Felt like a good place to stick this before the angst of Episode 5)

M/M Tickle fic

SFW (some swearing, but it's mostly fluff)

I can't help but love Logan and Morph's relationship. It's almost as good as the one Logan has with Nightcrawler. ^_^ This dumb little fic of mine just shows their close relationship, and as per my usual naturally has A LOT of tickling in it. This is a tickle fic after all. I can see Morph being quite the tickle monster, especially since he enjoys making Logan laugh. If tickling isn't up your alley then best to scroll on.

I wrote this showing hints that Morph kinda has a thing for Logan with Logan seeming to get that even though he doesn't reciprocate it, but still loving his friend all the same and letting him indulge a little. Nothing super blatant.

NOTE: I did write Morph as a 'he' in this story. I honestly was just getting confused on how to properly use 'they/them'. Morph has predominantly been depicted as male and goes by ''Kevin" so I figured it was okay. If that bothers you though then maybe you want to skip this one.

Holy crap! I did not mean for it to be this long, but I was just having too much fun writing these two interacting together. I kept trying to end it, but just kept writing more and more each time. XD This is easily the longest fic I've ever written.

Word count: 9,911

Logan winced as the flavor of the extra sweet liquid overwhelmed his sensitive palate once he took a swig from his beer bottle. Making a face of disgust and shaking his head he set it down on the edge of the pool table in the mansion's rec room.

"That's the last time I let ya choose the beer at the market," he muttered, looking over at his friend, Morph, who frowned in offense before transforming into an exact copy of Wolverine.

"ThAt'S tHe LaSt TiMe I lEt Ya ChOoSe ThE-....," he mocked in Logan's voice before returning to his normal form, swaying a little from the alcohol in his system, "Geez, just dump it out then! No one is putting a gun to your head and forcing you to drink it."

Logan grunted and rolled his eyes as he reached for his bottle of whiskey to pour himself a shot. Morph could be so overdramatic.

"Look pal, if there's one thing ya oughta know about me it's that I never waste a beer. No matter how bad it may be," he tossed the liquor down his throat.

"That's not entirely true. Remember the other night when I turned into Sabretooth to try to cheer you up? You stabbed the crap out of that six pack I had brought along. You're definitely going to Hell for that one," Morph was quick to point out the incident as Logan recollected and spit out a laugh.

"Oh yeah. An unfortunate casualty in the heat o' the moment. Well with the exception of that time it's not somethin' I do consciously. Not even a crap light beer like this one. An' what's that flavor? Is that....strawberry?" He made another repulsed face as Morph only shrugged this time.

"Ok, you made your point. You pick the next box. But for the record that beer you destroyed the other night, that was your favorite. Thought it would help make you feel better."

"Still did in the end. Even though it sounds like I almost fucked it all up. Hmph, speakin' of that night I never told ya thanks fer all that," a smile quirked at the corner of his mouth as the buzzed Morph threw an arm over his broad shoulders.

"Hey don't mention it. Despite you being a stubborn ass and trying to ignore me there was no way I was going to let you stay in that funk of a mood you were in," his arm tightened around Logan's neck while his free hand gave him a playful head noogie, making Logan growl and shove him away.

"Yeah yeah, I get it. I'm an asshole an' yer a saint." 

"Hey now, you're not just an asshole, you're my asshole........That came out wrong," Morph facepalmed while Logan chuckled quietly, "Oh hey, where's Jubilee at? Surprised she's not down here with us."

"Well she is gettin' older so I doubt she's wantin' to hang around a couple o' guys like us so much anymore. She seems to like that Roberto kid a lot, an' bein' that it's her birthday I imagine she's with him this evening," Logan growled a little as Morph laughed and patted him on the back.

"Easy killer. He seems like a nice kid. Just needs to come to terms with his mutant side, and Jubilee is doing everything to help him out with that. She's blossoming into a smart, beautiful young lady and you should be proud of her."

"Still I'm keepin' an eye on him. An' if he ever does anything to hurt her, I'll make sure he regrets it...slowly," Logan picked up his pool stick and bent over the table to play his next shot, but then chuckled as something came to his mind, "By the way speakin' of regret, real smooth with that jab at Magneto this mornin'."

Morph's face fell as he groaned while the moment from earlier replayed in his head, leaning against the table with beer in hand.

"Ugh, why'd you have to bring that up? That was so embarrassing! I mean, how was I supposed to know?"

"I gotta ask, is it unintentional, or do ya just really like makin' situations as awkward as humanly possible?" Logan was able to get his shot off and sink his ball into the side pocket, but it was immediately followed by a finger poking him in the ribs as he jumped with a half-giggle, "Shit! Quit doin' that!"

The shapeshifter gave a satisfied smirk at his reaction and grabbed a cue stick for his turn at the game.

"You asked for it. But seriously, I felt so bad about what I said. If he already didn't before I'm sure he totally hates my guts now."

"Well I wouldn't sweat it too much. The guy's a prick. Besides I'm pretty sure he ain't in his room cryin' about it right now. He's heard a lot worse than yer tasteless joke so don't flatter yerself," Logan shrugged, rubbing a big hand over his irritated ribs as he begrudgingly finished off his beer.

"I guess so. Still I feel like maybe I should go apologize later. He might appreciate that. What do you think?" Morph was toying with the stick in his hand now as his mind wandered, causing the bigger man to roll his eyes.

"I think ya oughta stop worryin' about it an' take yer damn shot already."

"Sorry, it's the alcohol, I guess. I'm a bit of a lightweight if you haven't noticed," Morph replied, the effects of the alcohol making him a bit unsteady as he squinted and tried to line up his shot, "You know it wouldn't kill you to show a little more compassion once in a while."

"That'll be the day. Besides I think ya do enough o' that fer the both of us, Nancy," Logan grinned and slapped his friend on the upper back right after he had hit the cue ball, sending him face down into the table.

"Excuse me? Did someone say my name?" Morph sounded off with his best Scott Summers voice as he lifted his head to reveal the face of their team's leader, making Logan chuckle dryly.

"Yer a real riot, ya know that?"

"I'm very aware, thank you. And I still scored a point despite you. In fact it looks like I'm winning so far," Morph transformed back to normal and stuck his tongue out at him as Logan surveyed the remaining pool balls left in play.

"Easy to be winnin' when ya cheat. It's a little hard to concentrate when some shit head keeps ticklin' ya," he gave a stern look as Morph just giggled at the thought. 

With Logan's natural hyper senses and Morph's spirited personality and tendency to be physically affectionate it didn't take long for him to discover at some point in their relationship that Logan was unbelievably ticklish from head to toe; something Morph found incredibly hard to resist exploiting at every turn. 

With his adamantium skeleton and healing factor Wolverine was practically impenetrable and his mind was very accustomed to handling the worst pain imaginable so Morph was beyond pleased to find something that could easily crack through his tough outer shell and loosen him up a bit.

It didn't help that Logan always let him get away with it unscathed, but Morph also had the feeling that Logan really didn't mind it too much, despite what he might say.

"It's not my fault the big, bad Wolverine is so adorably sensitive," Morph teased with a pouting face as he gently tugged Logan's sideburn, receiving a half-hearted growl and swat to his hand, "Besides it's the most surefire way to get a smile out of you."

"I don't need ya worryin' about me so much, Morph. It ain't worth yer time," Logan huffed and poured himself another shot of whiskey.

"I think I'm allowed to be the judge of that. You can't shut us all out, you know? No matter how hard you may try. Like it or not, you're stuck with me until the end of time," he smiled broadly as Logan let out a sigh and swallowed the shot.

"I get what yer sayin', but ya have yer own problems that ya need to work out. The things ya went through with Sinister.....shit like that doesn't go away overnight. I know yer always hidin' yer pain behind humor, but sooner or later yer gonna have to deal with it. Take it from me, ya got a long road ahead before ya can even begin to start healin'. So the last thing I want is fer you to be takin' on all my fuckin' issues too," he sulked, leaning against the wall as Morph looked at him thoughtfully.

"You're right about some things, Logan. It is going to take me awhile to get through it all, but I am dealing with it in the best way that I know how. You see, sharing my humor with you all does help heal me. I realize I have a family here; people who actually care about me, and it makes me feel good knowing that I have the ability to make others feel good too. I feel like everyone here brings something to the table, and just having that type of support means the world to me. I can't even imagine what I'd be like if I was out on my own." 

A soft smile came to Morph's face as his mind wandered back. 

"I'll never forget how you did everything in your power to try to get me back on the team, even when you didn't succeed right away. I owe you a lot and believe me I'd never consider you not being worth my time. You have to know you deserve that and more."

"To be honest I don't think I ever deserve anything worthwhile," Logan took it all in and after a few moments of silence he finally nodded, "But ok, I believe ya. Just promise me ya won't take on more than ya can handle. It ain't fair to do that to ya."

"Now it's my turn to tell you not to worry about me so much," Morph grinned and punched him on the shoulder with no effect, "I know I've had my weak moments and even some breakdowns, but I promise you that I'm managing just fine for now. The best medicine I have is being here with you....and the rest of the team. Trust me."

"Yer one o' the few that I do in this whole world, bub. I don't know if that means somethin' to ya, but it does to me."

"It really really does. Truly. I may be drunk, but I promise it's not the beer talking when I say that I love you. Anyways cheer up. This is supposed to be a fun evening, not a pity party," Morph put his arm around Logan's shoulder to give him a firm side hug, feeling his tense muscles relax considerably.

"Sorry. I really am a piece o' work, in case ya haven't noticed. Didn't mean to bring down the mood."

"You're forgiven, but I have to warn you that if you don't smile soon then I may have to do something drastic. I'll have you know that it's always worth my time to hold you down and tickle you until you can't think straight," Morph added, pleased to see it made Logan snort a laugh before he hastily moved away from the other.

"I'm pretty sure that goes against the Geneva Convention, but whatever ya dumbass."

"You know I'm kind of thinking about doing it anyways since you didn't reciprocate my proclamation of love for you," Morph tilted his head and raised a teasing brow as Logan backed further away while shaking his head.

"That ain't necessary. I do love ya, buddy. Yer part o' the family, an' the team's just not the same without ya. Now quit threatenin' me an' just stay away on my next shot here, okay? Hands offa me."

"Alright alright, I won't do anything," Morph made his arms get sucked inside his body, grinning when he saw Logan let out another chuckle, "Oh but first..."

Morph's arm reappeared as he scurried to the nearby radio to turn on the popular music station, the sound of Freak Nasty's "Da Dip" coming out of the speakers.

"Now lets get this party back on track!" Morph declared as he began swaying his hips in place and moving his arms around in flowing patterns, allowing the beat to take over his body.

Logan tried to hold back his amused smirk as he watched.

"Will ya cut that out? Yer ridiculous." 

Morph turned around and made eye contact as he smiled mischievously and started dancing and scooting his way across the room towards his quarry while he sang along to the song.

"I put my hand upon your hip, When I dip, you dip, we dip, You put your hand upon my hip, When you dip, I dip, we dip..."

While belting out the chorus Morph placed his hand on Logan's side as he grabbed at Logan's hand and tried to place it on his own hip with the man struggling to fight him off the whole time.

"Get the hell offa me," Logan laughed at the silliness of his friend as he slapped at his busy hands and pushed back against him, "If ya think yer gonna get me dancin' then yer dead wrong. I haven't had that much to drink. Besides I need to take my turn at the game now."

Morph finally allowed himself to be pushed away as he put on a face of mock pout.

"Aw fine, you old party pooper. I'll let you off this one time, but next time you are gonna be shaking it with yours truly," he snapped his fingers and rocked his hips some more before straightening up and gesturing to the table, "Maybe you can remove that big stick from up your ass long enough to take your shot. Go ahead, I promise I won't touch you."

Logan rolled his eyes and flipped him off as he looked down again at the pool table. 

The only good shot he had was extremely close to the 8 ball so he would have to calculate this just right or he risked knocking it in. He picked up the chalk and rubbed it onto the tip of his cue stick before looking over at Morph, who stood innocently on the other side of the table against the wall, and then bent down to get into playing position.

The prospect of hitting in the 8 ball had him a little nervous, but after a few tense seconds he made his move. The cue ball went hurtling smoothly towards his striped ball before striking it where intended and sending it rolling down the table into the corner pocket.

Logan smirked and was about ready to gloat, but he failed to notice that the cue ball had just knicked the edge of the 8 ball and set it into motion as well. Morph's little gasp and excited pointing of his finger alerted him to it, though all he could do now was just watch and hope for a miracle.

He held his breath as the solid black ball ever so slowly rolled towards the center pocket before teetering on the edge of the lip........and then stopping. Logan released his breath, ready to start bragging again.

"An' that's how it's done," he managed to say just before the 8 ball finished its journey and fell into the pocket with a deafening clacking noise as it landed on the other balls.

It was quiet for a minute before Morph let out a whoop of triumph and punched at the air as he began bouncing around the room.

"I aaaam the chaaampion! I aaaam the chaaampion!" He sang as he obnoxiously danced around his grumpy teammate.

"Bullshit," Logan grumbled and then glared at Morph with accusation, "Ya bumped the table."

"I did not! Don't be a sore loser now. I believe you owe me some money," Morph grinned with a raised brow and held out his hand.

"Alright fine. Even though I'm sure ya knocked that 8 ball in somehow, I'll let ya have this one. What did we say? Ten bucks?"

"Yup, that was the wager," Morph nodded, watching Logan pull out his wallet before opening it with a shake of his head.

"Hmph, I'm a little short on cash right now. I'll have to get ya later."

"Hey no worries, I accept alternate forms of payment," Morph's smile widened while he eyed the bottle of whiskey set out nearby.

"Oh yeah? Think ya've had enough to drink already, pal," Logan smirked as he observed his friend swaying a little on his feet.

"Uh thanks for the advice, dad, but I'll say when I've had enough. I'm starting to lose my buzz here!" Morph made a poor attempt at grabbing the bottle away while Logan just smoothly moved it aside out of his reach.

"Nah, yer done. Yer worse than a teenage girl on prom night. Just as annoyin' too." 

"Ooooh I'm gonna tell Jubilee you said that."

"Well can't blame ya fer that. Ya girls gotta stick together, right?"

"You are just so insufferable, do you know that?" Morph smirked with his hand on his hip, making another grab for the bottle as Logan easily held him back with one hand and grinned.

"Thanks. Comes naturally."

"Aw come on, please? Just let me have one more drink and I'll consider your debt settled."

"I don't think so, bub. Trust me. Fer yer own good." 

Morph had to take pause because Logan's voice had lost its teasing tone and sounded more of genuine worry now. His eyes moved off of the whiskey bottle and looked up to Logan's face to find a look of concern spread over his usually intimidating features.

Despite how Logan normally wanted to portray himself the man certainly could be caught wearing his heart on his sleeves on more than one occasion. Morph felt a little guilt that he was causing his friend to worry about him again, even in such a small way. He certainly didn't want to ruin the mood again.

"Huh. Do you really think I've had too much?"

"Not yet, but I guarantee if ya have anymore you'll regret it. 'Sides it's not a good idea to start drinkin' the hard stuff after ya drank so much beer. Especially when it's like that sweet tastin' shit ya bought," Logan released his hold on him as Morph took a step back and crossed his arms with a joking pout.

"I wish I had your healing factor. Then I wouldn't be such a lightweight."

"It's a gift an' a curse, bub. Really I wouldn't wish it on anyone," Logan cast his eyes down and sighed as he momentarily picked up the whiskey bottle to screw the cap back on securely.

Dammit! He had stirred some gloom back into Logan's current train of thought. All he wanted was to keep the good times going for as long as possible, but he just kept digging the hole deeper every moment he opened his mouth. Time to just give in and admit being wrong.

"Okay okay, you're probably right. No more alcohol for me. I concede," Morph nodded as he bowed out with his hands up in defeat; happy to see Logan brighten up when he did.

"Glad yer comin' to yer senses. Tryin' to save ya from a bad hangover here, idiot."

"Aww my hero!" Morph momentarily sprouted feminine facial features and batted his big eyelashes as Logan sighed and rolled his eyes, "But hang on, you're not getting out of it that easy. You still owe me some kind of payment since I won the game."

"Well I don't have the money so tough shit. An' ya ain't gettin' this alcohol either so what're ya gonna do about it?" Logan smirked as he squared up his beefy shoulders and extended the claws on one fist in an attempt to intimidate his friend into backing down. 

Too bad that whole macho act never worked on Morph, but hearing his smug response definitely gave him some inspiration. He knew exactly just how he could collect some sort of payment and also take Wolverine's ego down a peg.

"Oh I'm not too concerned with either. I'm sure you'll pay me in some way very soon," the shapeshifter dismissed him with a hand before looking past and pointing behind him, "But hey, do you think that maybe Jean would like a drink?"

Logan was surprised because he hadn't detected Jean's scent anywhere near the room, but he still turned his head to look regardless and retracted his claws at the same time. The second he did that Morph plowed right into him like a linebacker and took him to the ground; pool stick clattering to the floor with the both of them.

"MORPH!! What the hell do ya think yer....?!?!"

"Bahaha! I knew you would fall for that! Change of plans, buddy boy! Loser can't pay then loser gets tickled!" Morph crowed with inebriated glee as he scribbled his fingers all over Logan's stomach with lightning speed.

Normally Logan could hold his own for a short while, but the alcohol in his bloodstream and the joking mood he had been in had all of his mental shields disabled, making him feel especially ticklish right now. Not even the thick flannel shirt he was wearing was dulling the sensations and the tickling had him cackling immediately.

"N-No! Daahahahahhahaa-Dohohohon't! Geheheheddoffamehehehehehe, ya stuhuhuhupid ahaahaahasshole!" Logan's left hand reflexively shot out, landing on Morph's face as he used it to try to push the other mutant off of him, but Morph only ducked under his reach and continued his vicious attack.

"Sorry, not happening. You can just keep your alcohol and your lousy ten bucks. Tickling you to death will do just fine," Morph's nimble fingers dug into his wide ribcage, tickling methodically between every rib for maximum effect. With that Logan's raspy laughter deepened as he desperately tried to crawl backwards with one arm while clumsily attempting to fend off his friend with the other.

"Mooooorph stahahahahahop! I wahahahas juhuhust try'na he-help yahahaha!"

"Do I look like I need help? Don't think so! The only one who needs help here is you. Except no one's coming to save you, mwahahahaha!" Morph laughed maniacally while drilling his fast-moving fingers into Logan's sides as the man's arms finally weakened and caved beneath him, collapsing onto his back in a heap of giggles.

Morph observed him fondly as the normally bad-tempered feral spastically twisted and squirmed helplessly while his big arms reflexively wrapped around his upper body in a last-ditch effort to protect himself, even though he knew it wasn't going to help him.

"Aw what's the matter, big guy? Is somebody just a little bit ticklish? Coochie coochie coo!"

"Shuhuhut uhuhuhup! Bwahahahahaah! I swehehehehear I'm gonnahahahahahaha guhuhuhuhuut yaaaa!"

"Yawn. Boring. Heard that one before. You really need to come up with some new material, you know? But if you're serious this time, go ahead and do it. I'll wait," Morph dared with a smirk as he eyed the deadly hands and waited for the claws to emerge. But Logan's hands only flailed around as they tried to guard and block Morph out of gaining access to his sensitive torso; failing quite miserably.

"Yeeeah, I thought as much. I know you'd never hurt me if you could help it. So you just lay there and take it like the big, scary, ticklish man that you are."

Logan cursed that Morph had called his bluff, but what did he expect? The shapeshifting mutant knew him better than pretty much anyone.

"Shihihiiit! C'moohahahahahon! Quit-hahahaha-Quit ticklin' mehehehee!"

"Sure I'll stop.....once you piss yourself," Morph quipped immediately as Logan attempted to growl through his laughter.

"I f-fuhuhuhuckin' hahahahahate yahahaha!"

"Now that's a lie if I ever heard one. Fine, say something nice about me and I'll think about letting you live," Morph proposed while Logan quickly replied without any hesitation.

"Okaahaahaay! Yer goohoohood at b-bein' a dihihihihick!"

"Hmmm, while that may be true that's not exactly a compliment. Try again. Here I'll even give you a moment to breath in good faith," he paused the tickle attack as Logan panted from below him

"....Alright fine....I'll admit, ya are a good lookin' guy. I mean seriously, ya got model potential."

Morph wasn't expecting to hear something like that, and he was immediately put on alert as his face twisted into suspicion of Logan's exact intentions. 

"Oh get out of here, you don't mean that. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I'm no Sean Connery."

"Sure I do. An' ya know what? If this X-men thing doesn't work out for ya, ya could always take a job workin' as a department store manneQUINAAHAHAHAHaaahahahahhahaha!" Wolverine exploded back into guffaws as Morph jumped on top of him and resumed tickling him even harder.

"Ok, I have to admit that was a good one. But it was also RUDE! You, mister, have just earned yourself a nonstop tickle session!"

"W-Wohohohohorth ihihihihitahahahahahahaahah!"

The banter between them was always constant, but they both understood that it was all in good fun and never took anything to the heart. Not to mention it gave Morph plenty of excuses to really wreck his friend.

"One more chance! Come on, just say one serious thing! You know you appreciate my humor and wit, especially when I'm making fun of the other guys! I'm super good at making you laugh! You've said so yourself!"

Logan was really in over his head with Morph being very familiar with all of his most ticklish spots, but he couldn't stop himself from continuing to tease and provoke the shapeshifting mutant.

"Nohohohot hahahard! Aaahahahahaha! Ye-Yer fahahahaace dohohoes that alohohohone!"

Morph just sighed and shook his head with a pitying smile.

"Keep talking, dummy. It's only gonna make it worse for you. Speaking of worse, lets really get those lungs of your working!" 

From where he sat perched on his legs, Morph used his long reach to bury his furiously fluttering fingers into Logan's very ticklish armpits as the big lug howled in deep, rumbling laughter with his arms futilely clamping down; Morph being able to physically contort and manipulate his fingers to keep them easily working around in the tight crevices.

"Noooohohohohoho! Dahahahammit! Haahahahahahahahahaha! Nohohot thehehehere! Ahahahahalright alrihihihihight! Ju-hahahahhahah-Just st-stohahahahop fer a sehehehehehecond!" 

He was pretty surprised when Morph actually stopped as requested.

"I'm allowing leniency despite my better judgement, so this had better be good. No funny business," Morph crossed his arms with a smirk, looking down from his seat on top of his friend, who took a moment to catch his breath before nodding and taking on a more serious tone.

"Okay....Okay....ya win. Ya know what yer good at, Morph? I ain't lyin' when I say that yer one of the best people I know. Yer good at always showin' up fer the team no matter what the odds. Ya may not be the biggest guy, but ya got the biggest heart. I know I can always count on ya to have my back in a fight. Yer good at makin' things seem brighter when everything else looks grim. Ya have the most positive outlook of anyone I've ever met despite the things ya been put through. An' yeah, yer a pretty funny guy an' ya really do know what to say to make me laugh. On top of all that yer a damn good friend. No one appreciates ya more than me," he finished, seeing the complete look of surprise on Morph's face.

"Logan I....wow, that was.....I wasn't expecting all of that. Did you really mean it?"

"Yeah, of course I did. Ya know me, I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. I'd go to the ends of the Earth fer ya, buddy," Logan's face was completely serious as he smiled up at him in the most genuine way, making Morph's heart melt.

"I know. You've proved that to me before, and I'll be forever grateful. I can't believe a blob of goo like me was lucky enough to land a friend like you," Morph reached out to put a gentle hand on his shoulder as Logan shook his head.

"No, I'm the lucky one, bub. Also worth mentionin' that yer one of the only people that can even come close to puttin' my mind in a more peaceful place, which ya know ain't easy," he joked, breaking the emotional tension as Morph barked a laugh.

"Hah! That I do know. You really are the most stubborn man I've ever met."

"But ya know what yer good at most of all, Morph? Somethin' yer untouchable at?"

Morph urged him on with his eyes, wondering what other compliments Logan could possibly throw at him, but as he watched his friend's soft smile turn into a smug grin he immediately knew something asshole-ish was about to leave his mouth. So much for that touching moment.

"Always makin' the worst jokes at the wrong times that just make the room so goddamn uncomfortable that ya could cut the tension with a-"

"YOU'RE DEAD!!" Morph declared and transformed into Spiral to give himself six arms as he took ultimate pleasure at seeing his friend's eyes widen in terror before all hands dispatched immediately to mercilessly tickle all over his ribs, stomach and under his arms.

The burly mutant instantly began laughing like crazy, unable to effectively defend against all the assaulting appendages at once and knowing he had completely screwed himself now.

"Mohohohohohohooorph nohohoho! Baahaahahhahahahahahaha! W-Wahaahaahaahaaaait! I tahahahake it bahaahaahaahaahaack!"

Morph temporarily transformed his face into Wolverine's to repeat his recent words.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," he muttered in Logan's growly voice and then just as quickly resumed Spiral's appearance, "That is what you said, isn't it? So sorry to tell you that your request for a take-back is hereby DENIED!"

Morph went in on him hard now with hands even reaching back to tickle around Logan's knees and squeeze at his thighs as the heavily muscled mutant kicked and bucked and used whatever little energy he had left to try to defend himself. They both knew he was done for though.

"You know, you're not that smart. You could've easily used that whole brotherly love distraction to escape, but yet here you are. I should've known, you're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

Morph then giggled with glee as he spotted a new opportunity. In all his thrashing about, Logan's button-down shirt had become untucked from his pants to expose a peek at his hairy, bare stomach.

"Ooooh now what have we here....?" Four of his hands immediately dove underneath the shirt to madly tickle the now vulnerable bare skin of Logan's upper body, causing him to let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched squeal before resuming his chaotic laughter and undecipherable babbling.

Morph couldn't help but laugh at his explosive reaction, still finding it hard to believe that the gruff and tougher than nails Wolverine was so helplessly ticklish; his bulky arms clamping against his body as he futilely tried to stop the hellish movements of the hands inside his shirt.

"So this is how the great Wolverine dies....his big dumb mouth getting himself tickled to death. Hey, that'll look great on your headstone, don't you think? Hehe, c'mon now. Say uncle, ya big lug," Morph smirked as he gazed down at the state of his friend, "You know you're kinda cute when you look like this."

Logan was wheezing for air between harsh laughs as tears leaked out of his eyes, weakly wriggling on the floor and resigning himself to his fate. He desperately scrunched up his shoulders as teasing fingers reached in to scratch all over his thick neck and under his chin before easily finding the sensitive spots behind his ears.

He couldn't even throw out any more of his smart ass replies and joking insults because of how hard he was laughing from the thirty fingers assaulting so many of his weak spots; currently massacring his rock hard abs and muscular obliques.

Big muscles, healing factor, adamantium bones....all completely useless against the tickles.

Morph was always content to keep him laughing for as long as possible, though he left the ball in Logan's court and gave him plenty of opportunities to get himself out of it. Seldom did he ever seem to take it and would blame it on his strong will and stubbornness.

His whole life the man only knew mistreatment and pain of the highest levels, so Morph never wanted to be the reason for Logan to experience anything like that. He made it his mission to only provide him with good touches including hugs, comforting pats and caresses, roughhousing and wrestling matches, and of course playful tickling.

He admitted tickling could be seen as borderline torture, but if Morph had any inclination that Logan really found displeasure in being tickled then he'd never do it to him again. His claws coming out was usually a good indicator when the feral mutant wasn't happy with something.

But no, Logan would goad him on and continue making asshole comments, and even when directly threatened with the consequence he'd refuse to back down until he struck the right nerve in Morph that would end in his own ticklish demise. Then he'd make a show to resist and curse Morph out and eventually beg for it to stop, but Morph could tell he was never entirely serious about it. 

Still there were many times that Morph in fact would stop if he wasn't quite sure, but then some smart-mouthed words from Logan would pull him right back into it. Not that Morph minded this one bit. 

All in all, he was pretty certain that Logan just enjoyed being involved in some harmless physical contact with someone that he fully trusted; someone he knew would never purposely try to hurt him; someone he felt safe with.  That alone was the biggest, unspoken compliment that Logan could ever give him.

Of course Morph would never force Logan to admit any of that though if that's the way Logan preferred it. For now, he would just continue in his quest to drive the Canadian berserker berserk.

"Give up? Are you ready to be nice to your old pal, Morph?" The shapeshifter smirked, finding that poking and probing into Logan's navel could force squealing giggles out of him as his bigger hands frantically tried to push Morph's devilish digits away.

"Quit fighting it. Just let it happen. Hmm let's get these arms out of the way, shall we?"

Morph now used four of his hands to pry Logan's arms away from his body and pin them to the floor while the remaining two dove in for the kill. The fingers began tickling a particularly sensitive area around Logan's hips where the adonis belt dipped into his pants, renewing the man's energy to struggle as he flopped like a fish and howled in hysterics.

"AAAahaahahahahaha! Nohoho fahahahahaaair! Stop stop-Ahahahahahhaahaa!! Pleheeheeheeheease!! No mohohohohohohore!! I caaaahahahahahaha- I caahaan't tahahahahahake ihihihihit!!"

It had reached Morph's favorite part where Wolverine started begging for mercy. It was quite amusing to Morph that the thought to do so would never even cross the tough mutant's mind when under duress and suffering extreme pain through an enemy, but undergoing a ruthless, although good-natured, tickling could always break him in the end.

Morph knew this meant that he was just about tapped out, but that left no reason why he couldn't tease him just a little more. See if Logan managed to work up a second wind.

"I absolutely will if you can answer me this one question........Who's a silly ticklish Wolvie? Huh? C'moooon, you know the answer," he was reaching underneath to tickle the backside of his ribcage while Logan snorted and giggled uncontrollably, arching his back in desperate attempts at reprieve.

Still being the man that he was Logan couldn't resist taking one last stand against his playful tormentor, even though he knew he was going to instantly regret it.

"Fuhuhuhuhuhuck yoohoohoohoooou!!"

Logan was just so adorably predictable.

Morph let his fingers respond to that as they immediately launched into the deepest part of his armpits, sprouting a few extra fingers to leave no spot untickled and causing Logan to scream with laughter as he had no way to guard one of the most ticklish spots on his whole body with his arms restrained like they were.

"OHAHAHahahaahaha!! No no!! Nohohohot thahahahaat!! Bwaahahahahahahahahaa!! Shihihihihiiit!! I'm sahahahahahorry!! St-Staahahahahahhahahaap!! Pleeeeease stahahahahahap!!"

"Stop? Please? You're sorry? What happened to the tough guy a second ago? Hm? What happened to 'fuck you'?" Morph teased him mercilessly as his fingers continued to knead into the pit hollows and squeeze the ticklish muscles on the sides of his pecs, watching a few tears roll down the red face of the hysterically laughing Wolverine.

"Gaaahhahahahhahahahaha!! Pleeheeheeheeease!! Stahahap ticklin'!! Aahahahahahahahaa!! Yer kihihihihihi-killin' meheheheheheehee!! I give up!! I give uhuhuhuhup! "

With that Morph smiled in satisfaction as his fingers finally pulled away and he released his hold on Logan's arms, transforming from Spiral back into his normal form. He'd love to just tickle him all day if Logan would let him, but when the man had had enough, he'd had enough, and Morph respected that.

Logan just laid there with his eyes closed and his head lolled back as he heavily panted for air, though still with a big grin stuck on his face.

"....Fuck......Am I....dead?"

"Nah sorry, you're not getting away from me that easily. But I'm pleased to inform you that your debt is now paid, loser," Morph grinned and reached down to pat his face gently on the cheek as he climbed off of him and sat to the side to watch him start to get his breath back. 

After a few long moments the bigger man slowly regained his energy and hauled the upper half of his hefty body into a sitting position, tugging his shirt back down from where it had bunched up under his chest.

"Shit, that was a helluva debt. Think after that ordeal I'm paid up fer the next several decades."

"Pffft! Yeah, you wish," Morph snorted as he stood up and reached a hand out to help Logan off the floor, letting Logan's hand rest on his shoulder to help steady his legs, "You alright there, buddy?"

"M'fine. Could definitely use a drink though," he smirked and playfully pushed Morph aside as he went straight for the whiskey, not even bothering with a glass as he drank a few gulps right from the bottle and felt his nerves start to relax a little.

"Go on. Drink up, big guy. Gotta get you ready for round two," Morph undeniably teased as Logan almost choked on the alcohol, letting out a cough as he glared over at the other mutant through a side eye.

"Next time I'm just gonna let ya drink whatever ya want an' let ya deal with the damn hangover," Logan grumbled as he lifted a meaty hand to wipe the drying tears off of his cheeks

"Now you're learning. I don't expect you to protect me from everything, you know? Sometimes I just have to face the consequences of my own actions."

"I can't help it, it's an unavoidable instinct. I just....," Logan sighed, "I'd never want anything bad to happen to ya ever again Morph, if I can prevent it. Even somethin' so small. Sorry, I don't mean to meddle so much."

Morph frowned a little that he said something that was making Logan's mood start to dip again.

"No no, you weren't so stop apologizing. I'm very grateful and appreciative that you would go out of your way to look out for me. You're the only one in my life who's ever done that and it's not something I take for granted."

"Yeah, well fer the record I really meant everything I said earlier. Yer my best friend an' ya mean a lot to me. Ya've helped me out in more ways than you'll ever know," his smile returned as he put the bottle down and looked back up at Morph with warm eyes.

"Thanks Logan. And I hope that me getting you to laugh all the time counts for some of that. I know you've got a lot of heavy things on your mind and it makes me feel good to be able to pull you out of that once in a while. Making you laugh always seems to put you in a better mood anyways," Morph smiled back, not expecting Logan to admit to any of that, but surprised when he did.

"Hmph, guess it does. I mean, when ya tickle me like that it completely overwhelms my mind to where I'm just focused on the current situation an' it's honestly hard to think about anything else. Which I guess what yer sayin' is the whole point?"

"Yup, exactly. It just drives all your bad thoughts away for the time being. Just consider me your personal therapist and do not question my remedies," Morph crossed his arms over his chest with a smug look as Logan just shook his head.

"Wasn't. Just wonderin' what goes on in that head o' yers sometimes. I'll admit it does make me feel pretty euphoric after it's all said an' done. My head feels high as a kite right now."

"That's because laughing is good for you! By the way, has anyone ever told you that you have the best laugh ever?" Morph asked with a giddy smile that Logan didn't seem to notice as he snorted and used a hand to dismiss his words.

"Aw cut that out. No need to drive the knife deeper. Besides not many people get me laughin' the way ya do so they wouldn't know."

"Well that's their loss. It's really a good look for you. I love when you smile," Morph threw his arms around him to give him a bear hug as Logan sighed in resignation and softly patted his arm.

"Still gettin' used to it. An' the torture method.....I'm sorry....yer therapy that ya use to get it outta me. Think ya almost broke my healin' factor with that last round," Logan shook his head with a smirk; the nerves below his skin still tingling from the overstimulation.

"Wellllll you did kind of ask for it. I would've stopped a lot sooner if you weren't being such an ass. I don't know if you know this, but you're quite the arrogant bastard. The biggest I've ever met, for the record."

Logan chuckled heartily at his comment.

"Yeah, I'm very aware of that. Not somethin' I can just turn off unfortunately."

"Oh no, please don't ever change. It's always a good excuse for me to tickle you crazy. I haven't heard you beg like that since that one time you thought you were being funny by putting your feet on my lap when we were on the couch watching the hockey game. Kurt was there too, remember?" Morph smiled big time with the memory playing through his mind as Logan squirmed in place at the thought.

"Believe me, I learned my lesson from that one. I'm surprised I'm still alive after what the two o' ya did to me," he shuddered as he remembered the incident.

Unluckily for Logan, Kurt also loved to partake in his ticklish weakness, and he did not hesitate one second to join in on the attack on his good friend as his three-fingered hands and prehensile tail attacked Logan's upper body, using his teleportation to get at him from all angles. 

Meanwhile Morph had decided it would be fun to transform into Nightcrawler as well, giving him the extra tail appendage to tickle between Logan's sensitive toes with the velvety tip while his fingers went to town on his bare soles.

"You have to admit it was pretty funny when Ororo, Jubilee and Rogue all heard your screaming and burst into the room because they thought you were being murdered," Morph giggled as Logan scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, that's kinda what I would call it," he growled sheepishly as his toes cringed inside his boots, "Just dealin' with one of ya is more than I can handle. But the both o' ya at the same time? Yeah, that's pretty much attempted murder."

"Shut up, you liked it. So feel free to put those big stompers of yours in my lap any time you want," the shapeshifter gave him a wink as Logan just returned it with a blank face and a raised eyebrow.

"Pass."

"Aww c'mooon, not even for a little massaaaage?" Morph teased as he moved behind the shorter man and rubbed his shoulders before being shrugged off.

"Just fuck off, would ya?"

"Okay okay, no need to get testy. I'm really good at it though, just for the record. I've got plenty of references to back me up," he cracked his fingers and wiggled them up in the air with a cheesy smile.

"I'll keep it in mind," Logan couldn't help the smirk that came over his face as then he looked up at the clock mounted on the wall, "Hmph only 11:20pm, still early. Unless yer ready to call it a night."

"Not yet I'm still feeling pretty awake. I'm more of a night owl these days so I'll be glad to keep you company for a while longer. If you don't mind, that is," Morph added, making Logan glance back over at him questionably.

"Why would I?"

"I don't know. I feel like sometimes I annoy you too much and maybe you'd want some space from me," the shapeshifter answered, feeling a bit insecure as he crossed his arms in front of himself.

"Course yer annoyin'. Yer loud an' ya never stop talkin'. Ya drive me nuts with all yer crazy antics," Logan said matter of factly as Morph felt a tightness in his chest and looked down at the floor in shame until Logan continued with a gentler tone, "But that's on me, not you. Sometimes I just get a lil' bent outta shape too easily so don't take it personal. I'm just a grumpy old prick. If anything, I'd feel like yer the one who would want space away from me."

Morph immediately brightened back up, lifting his head as his frown turned into a soft smile.

"Just know yer great, Morph. Yer always goin' outta yer way to make people happy, even someone like me who doesn't deserve it. You'll never not be welcome to share in my prescence."

"Thanks for telling me that Logan. And for the record no, I'd never need space from you. No matter how much of an insufferable prick you can be."

Logan laughed loudly as he clapped a large hand onto Morph's shoulder and shook him a little.

"Appreciate it, bub. So ya wanna play another game or what?" He asked as he started pulling the pool balls out of the pockets and placing them back onto the table.

"Yeah sure, why not. But we're not going to bet anything this time, right? You obviously don't have any money to put up so unless you want me to tickle the shit out of you again, I'd say you're all out of bargaining chips, buddy," Morph crossed his arms with a holier than thou grin, watching Logan down the remainder of the whiskey.

"Tell ya what bub, if I lose again how 'bout I let ya give me that foot massage?"

Morph smirked at him, leaning against the pool table on one hand.

"Oh is that so? And what makes you think that's what I'd want as my prize?"

Logan just shrugged his shoulders as if he was unbothered by that and began setting up the pool balls.

"Alright suit yerself. Just forget it then."

"Now hold on, hold on. It was just a question. Hmmm but okay, it's a deal. No take backs. This is now a legally binding verbal contract," Morph momentarily transformed into a court judge and banged a gavel onto the table.

Logan chuckled as he finished getting all the balls into the triangular rack.

"Yer a crazy guy, Morph. If I win though yer buyin' me a new bottle....No....two more bottles o' booze," he declared and dangled the now empty whiskey jug in the air.

"Deal, but I don't plan on losing. But hey, it should be a win for you too. I bet with your heightened senses a massage feels extra good."

"I guess so, but I've never known it any other way so ya got yer work cut out fer ya. Let me at least get washed up first though, alright? I showered a lil' over an hour ago, but these boots have seen some miles," he looked down at his feet and rocked back on the heels.

"If you insist. But if you need any help in the shower, I'm always available. You know, if you're having any trouble getting those hard-to-reach areas...," Morph winked and nudged him suggestively, making Logan snort a laugh.

"Thanks, but I think I can manage. Oh an' hey, no cheatin' in this game this time around, okay? That means no bumpin' the table-"

"I told you I didn't bump the table!"

"Whatever. An' if ya tickle me even one time ya automatically forfeit the win. Got it?"

"Okay okay fine. Scout's honor," Morph held up his hand while sneaking his other hand over to give a quick dig into Logan's ribs as the man jumped with a yelp and then glared back at him.

"Dammit! What did I just-?!?!"

"Hehehe, that doesn't count. We didn't start the game yet," Morph snickered as Logan sighed and facepalmed before picking up his pool stick that was still on the floor from his earlier tussle with the shapeshifter.

"Ya know Morph, if I didn't love ya so much I'd kill ya."

"Awwww that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. You know option number two is that you could also just forfeit now and allow me to collect on my winnings," Morph teased as he draped arms over Logan's shoulder and squeezed his bicep, making Logan shake his head and squirm out of his embrace.

"Nice try bub, but Wolverine forfeits to no one. Now stand back. Maybe you'll learn somethin'," Logan leaned over the table, getting his stick into position as he got ready to break. 

He smirked knowing he was going to sandbag it and allow Morph to win again. Like he did earlier when he himself had unnoticeably bumped the table so the 8 ball fell in. Let Morph win just like he always did.

Just as Morph always wanted to keep him happy, he also wanted the same for his friend and more. To let him know that he always had someone rooting for him in his corner and actually gave a damn about his well-being. He'd do whatever it takes to keep his spirits high, even if it came at his own expense.

He knew Morph would be true to his word and give him an amazing massage, which was hard to come by these days, and Logan would relish in every bit of it. Even when it inevitably turned into tickling because he knew Morph wouldn't be able to resist himself with the knowledge that Logan's feet were easily his most ticklish spot.

Logan would of course play his part fully, protesting profusely and laughing his ass off all to Morph's delight while doing his best to not accidentally kick his teeth in with a flailing foot. Though he shivered a little knowing that Morph was more than capable of restraining him and then he'd just have to take it. Though in a weird way he found that he wasn't exactly bothered by the thought of that.

Thinking about it took him out of his game and unable to fully focus as he jabbed the cue ball to break, and while the balls all scattered over the table not one of them went into a pocket. He forced a grumpy face for show as he looked over at his grinning friend.

"Looks like it's going to be an early night. You know you can just skip the shower. I don't mind your musk."

Logan couldn't deny that a massage sounded better sooner than later.

"Well if ya really don't mind....," Logan gave the table a firm bump with his hip, making all the pool balls including the 8 ball fall into the pockets as he shrugged his shoulders while Morph looked at him with a knowing smile, "Damn. Guess I lose again."

"Nah, like I said you're still winning. Tell you what, I'll still even buy you another couple bottles of whiskey after this," Morph promised as he walked to the other side of the room and sat on the end of the large couch placed against the wall, "Here should be good. Whenever you're ready."

Logan was a little hesitant walking over as Morph made a big display of stretching and cracking his fingers before patting his lap. He sat down on the couch and then turned his body sideways, lifting his legs to drop his heavy boots onto Morph's thighs as the other mutant teasingly ran a hand over the top of them.

"Hm. Big feet, huh? You know what they say about that," Morph laughed at his implication, making Logan's mouth twitch into a smirk.

"Nah, what do they say Kevin?" He asked in a teasing tone, making Morph pause with a blush tinting at his cheeks as he was caught off guard by Logan's response and the use of his chosen name.

"W-Well you know.....big feet big.....boots. What were you thinking?! Jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, your pervert!"

Logan chuckled at how easily flustered Morph was as he leaned back on the couch armrest.

"Takes one to know one, bub. Now get rubbin'."

"See comments like that are what get you in trouble. I'll make sure you pay for it later," Morph warned with a devious smile and then got to work, beginning the process of carefully pulling off his boots.

Logan just watched it happening in slow motion, wondering exactly how he let himself get talked into this. Actually, he did know how. And he found himself looking forward to the attention.

"Easy now. Be nice," Wolverine growled a little, the realization of knowing what he was getting into really setting in now.

"Aren't I always?" Morph smirked as he dropped each boot on the floor as they came off and then in a couple swift movements had tugged off Logan's socks as well

"So delusional," Logan shook his head as his now bare toes wiggled a little from the exposure, "At least try not to tickle."

"That's not the current plan and I promise I won't be trying to, but if it does happen then I'm sorry, but it's your fault for being so ticklish," he reached down and firmly squeezed both of Logan's wide, meaty soles as the older mutant rolled his head back and groaned from the touch, making Morph grin, "Looks like you might be okay though."

He began further testing as his fingers pressed in hard and slid down Logan's soft arches to begin kneading into his plump heels while Logan struggled to keep the sounds of pleasure from leaving his lips.

"Fuuuuck.....Damn Morph.....Ya weren't lyin'.....That feels.....fantastic...," he squirmed and moaned with his eyes closed; his reactions causing Morph to beam with pride.

"Like that, eh? I told you I was good," he began rubbing circles from his heels back up into the balls of his feet, finding the skin to be surprisingly supple, "Now answer me this, how does a guy like you have such soft feet?"

Logan just threw his hands up in a shrug as his mind became focused on the sensations though he ended up rumbling in disappointment when Morph's hands pulled away for the moment.

"Easy big boy, I promise there's more where that came from. And if you really enjoy this then perhaps later I could interest you in a full body session," Morph offered with a hopeful smirk and a raised brow as Logan was quick to give a nod.

"Might actually take ya up on that. I haven't had a good massage in.....shit, I can't even remember."

"Well that's about to change right now. So without further ado let's get started off on the right foot here," Morph put his hand on the top of Logan's right foot and laughed at his own pun as Logan made a point to roll his eyes harder than usual.

"Geez, tough crowd. Come on, that was funny," he grinned slyly as his fingers now drifted around to give the sole of his foot a quick tickle.

"AHAH!" Logan barked out a laugh and jerked his foot away before delivering a warning glare and reluctantly placing his foot back onto Morph's lap, "Fucker."

"Hey I had to get at least one in. Now I'm going to keep it professional. If I accidentally do tickle you then just tell me and make sure to keep still. Though I'm going to warn you right now, if you kick me at any point then the massage is over and it's game on. So please give me a reason," Morph teased as he rubbed his hands together and prepared to really get serious.

Logan quietly considered the threat, and while he was looking forward to the massage, he also couldn't resist his urge to live life dangerously. And hell, maybe he was also a bit of a masochist sometimes.

While Morph was prepping, Logan pulled his foot back a little and aimed it right at Morph's stomach before thrusting it forward.

Morph got the wind knocked out of him ever so slightly as he coughed and grabbed the offending foot to push it back. He then squinted evilly back at Logan who had a shit-eating grin on his face while he sat there with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Whoops. Must've slipped."

Morph sighed, thinking he probably deserved it for sneaking in that tickle, and released his hold on his foot.

"Fine. You get one freebie. But do it again and I promise you you're going to be wishing so hard that you could take it back once you see how bad you're going to get it because I'm not stopping until the sun comes up and by the looks of that clock on the wall it's going to be several hours before that comes even close to-UGGH!" Morph grunted as the foot collided with his stomach again.

"Quit babblin' an' just do it, pussy," Logan smirked, the words no sooner leaving his lips before tendrils shot out of Morph's body and tightly wrapped around his ankles to keep him from ever having any chance at pulling his feet away until Morph decided he was allowed to.

And Logan wouldn't have it any other way.

[they-reap-what-we-sow]

20 questions for writers

thank you for the tag @fanfictiongreenirises I finally managed to finish a tag game!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

168- with 44 podfics and the rest are regular fics!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

346,848. unfathomable number who is she where did she come from

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Batman (Batfam) my love my life, but 9-1-1 is a close second with one-offs for a lot of my other passing interests.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Floppy Bird - crack fic that was meant to be an angst fic that I never understood why people liked so much asfhjs

cocoa on a cold night - a classic timby holiday fic that I wrote in the middle of summer, talk about environmental storytelling

secrets un(revealed) - the only purposeful long fic I've ever written, and also the most trope mashing I've ever done with reverse robins, magical realism au, and delicious delicious miscommunications (in my head the only fic that deserves to be in the top five :wheeze: )

Eggshells - vent fic alert !! very embarrassing that people like this I try not to think about it ":)

taking the blade (for you and yours) - a round robin fic written with the server and CHOCK full of Damian suffering.

5. Do you respond to comments?

NO PICTURES. NO COMMENT. I DONT KNOW HOW TO READ.

no jk jk I really really try to but once I start getting behind it's just a whole spiral. these days I have a better chance of replying to a comment on an old fic than a brand new one because I dont want leave them half replied

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

any of my death fics probably? I think with DC a death is a little more inconsequential than other fandoms just because of how often it's unpermanent, so as a concrete answer, I'll say for you (i would cross the line). nothing quite like parental grief.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

happy ending wink-wonk or XD

probably Who The Hell Is Red Hood? - I've done things there with growth and healing that DC HQ would shudder to imagine

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not regularly, thank everything, but the one controversial three-some I posted needed comment regulation lmao

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes and uh, the kinky kind? idk take a look for yourselves I guess

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes, and they're ALWAYS unserious- Buck from 9-1-1 dating Emma from Friends (yes Ross and Rachel's kid) anyone?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Uh, not by a person? as far as I know? but I have found my fic on those like, document websites??? which is weird lmao just read them on your phones guys not everything needs to be uploaded

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

weee yes! round robin my beloved, and also every fic @canonicallyshort and I have written in our threads. those count. to me. emotionally.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I WILL GO DOWN WITH MY MULTISHIP (which really means I'm never going down at all) but really I dont think I will ever get over Merthur... or Buddie... or- you see what I mean?

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

oh god I have so many wip that I am holding out hope for but my biggest WIP is an unpublished hellhole affectionately entitled "Death Pit" by everyone who is working on it- most notably because it features a literal Death Pit, every horror, angst, whump, and trauma trope you can think of, and a cast of characters and a plot thread so long we have 20+ page outline documents that aren't even fully updated... I shudder to think what will become of it one day, I imagine sentience isn't very far off

16. What are your writing strengths?

why is this an interview question. I dont know my strengths really?? um. I have good ideas, that one I'll say. execution is a different story (likely one that will never get told. like the rest of my good ideas)

I also think I do fairly well with scene descriptors. I really like to set a scene because I'm seeing a movie in my head and you all should too!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'm down to clown globally! I dont like to use google translate though, so if im writing in another language it's only because SOMEONE on the server is a native speaker and can vouch for my text.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

oh god one direction. head in hands. it was an 'adopted by 1d' fic that I made my mom beta, and turned it in to my 6th grade English teacher as my creative writing assignment. then I made a poem about it. then I wrote a song about it. thankfully it never got published and is trapped in the cursed purple file folder it was 'hidden' in since 7th grade. my first published fic was almost 7 years later with a Gomens fic!

20. Favourite fic you've written?

AHh um. favorite child scene here, but top contenders include: lithium + 5 for its graphic design and medical accuracy, fiery veins on speechless days for its emotional whump that makes me hurt every time I reread it, [PODFIC] wither on the shore which is not a fic I wrote but one of my favorite podfics of @silk-scarlet-ribbons 's works.

tagging (if you wish to participate!) @canonicallyshort @silverandsunflowers @selkienight60 @crows-murder

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Can you do where Y/N and Johnny are in a secret relationship, but Ryan is yn's brother, and he fines about her and Johnny relationship,

And ryan is so mad at Johnny because he thinks Johnny will take advantage of you.

If you're comfortable with writing 🤗🙂

Impulse

It was all whirlwind- first that party, now Y/N ran into her brother’s hot friend, Johnny, on a daily basis. But she saw something in him, and in Ryan’s eyes that’s the worst part of it all.

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader

(Fluff, angst)

2.1k Words

Warnings: Suggestive content, alcohol, parties, overprotectiveness, unplanned pregnancies, lying, flirting, making out, bribes

An: Thank you so much for this request! While doing research for this fic I finished reading Serious as Dog Dirt and went down an unrelated rabbit hole of transgressive fiction, so I’m sure the prose of this fic is some horrible mixture of Bam and Kerouac XD Anyways, thank you for sending in all of those requests and please keep them coming!! Fun fact, tomorrow marks my one year anniversary of writing Jackass fics! 200 followers later, I just want to thank you all for all the friends I’ve made and the love I’ve received from this community :)

This whole mess started when you ran into him at a party your brother dragged you to. “Cmon, Y/N- you never get out. It’ll be fun, I promise!” The house parties Ryan frequented weren’t really your scene, so in your mind you didn’t see the use in showing up to some release party for that skate video he made with his dipshit friends because it’s probably the same bag. But he could drive a pretty convincing bargain when he wanted to and you eventually gave in, deciding to tag along (albeit half willingly).

That’s where you were introduced to him- one of Ryan’s friends: sweet, charming, polite in a way you only see in men from the south and with this accent that seemed to slip out after a few drinks. Fuck, he even called you ma’am. Nothing like the Philly-trash assholes who only want to hump and ditch that you thought you'd be running into. For that night, it seemed your whole world revolved around this handsome stranger. but by the next morning, he was long gone, and all that was left was this longing for something you thought you would never see again.

But, as you’d come to find out, that video Ryan was in became bigger than you expected. In fact, MTV wanted him on this new show of thier’s called Jackass- mainly due to his friend, Bam, who you only really knew as the guy who came by from time to time and who seemed hellbent on fucking with you. That meant there would be filming in Westchester, and as you would come to find out, that hot stranger happened to be the leader of the merry gang of weirdos that your brother introduced you to. And to think, you were sure that by this point you would be over him…now, it seemed the bug was on you again, and that bug’s name was Johnny Knoxville.

Part of you was kind of curious when it came to how the whole tv thing would work, so you started tagging along with Ryan while they filmed under the flimsy guise of seeing how the sausage was made. Even though, at the party, he was both aware of and cool with whatever was going on between you and his buddy, Ryan was also pretty damn wasted at the time, and after a lifetime of living with him you knew he may not be as welcoming with one of his bros hitting on his sister. You had to be slick about this.

Knoxville knew this too, waiting until most of the guys were busy with the cameras and setting up whatever stunt they were working on to step off to where you were waiting on the side and start chatting you up. “Y’know, I never caught your name, ma’am.” Your heart jumped a bit, kind of shocked that he recognized or remembered you in the first place, but you played it cool. “It's Y/N. You're Johnny, right?” Of course you knew who he was, but it was the first thing that came to mind, okay? Well, that blush that was creeping onto your cheeks and the tips of your ears kinda gave it away you weren't really as nonchalant as you let on. The amused grin that crept onto his face let it slip that not only did Knoxville notice your skittishness- he liked it. He chuckled, glancing you up and down with this amused little spark in his eye, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Y’know, ever since that premier, I was kinda hoping I’d run into you again.” He glanced towards you over the tops of his sunglasses. God, those glasses- they really aided to the hot, mysterious stranger thing he had going on. “I was gettin’ pretty hot that night, and the only thing I can really recall was running into you.” In your eyes, Johnny was probably the one guy in the world that could use cliches and cheesy pick up lines like that and not sound like a total moron.

Fuck it, you thought. Fate was giving you a second chance and you were going to take it! “Maybe we could get dinner some time? Uh- together, I mean.” The auditable tension in your voice gave away how much mental psyching yourself up that simple act took, and you knew it once the words came tumbling out of your mouth. In contrast, this whole situation was getting more and more entertaining in his eyes. Johnny took this distinct pleasure in throwing you off your game, and maybe that’s what drew you towards him so much. I mean, you’d seen him on Jackass- it’s not a surprise that the guy who goes prancing through LA with a strap-on under his basketball shorts enjoys making people just a bit uncomfortable. Knowing his influence on the situation, he couldn’t help himself, “That sounds great! How does tonight sound?”

Johnny wasn’t at the bar, and that was the only thing that tipped any of the guys off to the fact something was amiss. “Seriously- he couldn’t come have drinks with us?” Ryan said what everyone else was thinking. Well, everyone except Steve, who was the one person Johnny had confided in the fact he was taking one of their friends’ sisters out to dinner, because you don’t tell just anyone that kind of thing. It's not like he was gonna go out there and rat on his best bro like that, so the only option he had was to run cover for him,“I mean- maybe he isn’t feeling good? Knoxville took some pretty hard hits today…” He was a piss poor liar, and if it wasn’t for the fact the rest of the crew was half shitfaced, they probably would’ve called bullshit. But the guys seemed satisfied with that explanation, going on discussing the stunts of the day and not noticing the sigh of relief for Steve once the conversation topic changed.

So, as always, the bar crawl began, and guess where the guys happened to show up next? Yep, just your luck. Sure the restaurant Johnny invited you out to had a bar, but you didn’t think people would go there for the express purpose of getting drunk. See, you thought through this, but clearly not well enough. Peering around the crowd, Bam squinted a little through drunk goggles to try and get a better look at two oddly familiar people sitting at a table. “Hey, Ry. Isn’t that Knoxville and your sister over there?” Ryan’s neck should’ve broken with how fast he turned around to where Bam was pointing who, speaking of, found this whole situation hilarious, “Dude- it is! We gotta go fuck with ‘em- c’mon.” Well, he didn’t need any more convincing- your brother was already storming over to the table, but you didn’t even notice the two were there in the first place until Ryan spoke up with forced nonchalance, “Hey, what’s goin’ on with you guys?” In contrast to your immediate panic, Johnny seemed so relaxed compared to you as you stammered out a response, “Oh! We were just, uh- I was out, and I just ran into Knoxville!”

“Since when do you go to the bar by yourself?” Finding this whole situation purely hilarious, Bam leaned to your brother with this shit eating grin, “I think they’re on a date.” Ryan scoffed disbelievingly, “No fucking way-“ The tension seemed to thicken as he turned back to you and Johnny, who was getting more and more smug about all of this, “No, no- you two are not on a date. Screw this-“ And your brother abruptly up and left with his little cronie trailing behind, snickering and leaving Steve as the child of this divorce. “Should I, uh- should I go?” While you were still trying to mentally work out what the hell just happened, Johnny turned to him, still not taking any of this seriously, “You into threesomes?” Before Steve could actually consider it, he replied for him, “Yeah, I think you should go.”

This is the kinda thing that makes a guy sick. Ryan knew he had to bring it up to you sometime, so he gave you a call the next day while he was off filming while you decided to stay home even though you had time off work because of obvious reasons. “We need to talk about Knoxville- about you and Knoxville.” Your heart stopped for a second. I mean, what you really wanted to say was that you were a grown woman who could manage your love life very well on your own, but he sounded like he was really concerned for you, so you shut up. “I know these guys better than anyone and I’m just- I’m trying to look out for you here.”

Even though this whole conversation was happening over the phone, you could practically see the mix of frustration and concern on Ryan’s face as he spoke. He didn’t want to see you get hurt. Sure, none of them were exactly known for their stable lifestyles, but Johnny sweet. He was charming and made you laugh, so maybe that was enough for you to ignore a few red flags. You wouldn’t say that to him, though. “I get it, Ry. I’ll be careful, just- let me give him a chance, okay? It’ll be fine.” There was something about the earnestness in your voice that made your brother bite back his nerves and decide that he would have to try something else. “Alright. But he even breathes wrong in your direction and I’ll kill him.”

When the guys took a break in the middle of the day while filming, Ryan got a chance to pull Johnny aside and confront him about all of this, “Hey, man- what’s goin’ on with you and Y/N?” He didn’t want to hear that you were going out because no guy wants to hear that kinda thing. Johnny took a seat in one of the lawn chairs they had set up outside as he told his side of the story, “All I did was take her out to dinner. That’s it!” That was the same explanation you gave him when he grilled you on this- it was only a dinner.

“But it’s never just dinner. C’mon-“ Ryan was never a staunch believer in whatever the ‘bro code’ was, but he knew there was something in there regarding it being frowned upon to date and or be fucking your friends’ sisters. “It's weird, and you know it!” The rest of the cast had been pretending not to be secretly listening in on all this drama since the beginning, but with the way things were heating, it was harder to do it on the sly. But neither of the men involved noticed or really gave a shit about the gawking at this point. Johnny reached into the slushy cooler and grabbed himself something to drink, “Listen, I’m not sure what you’re gettin’ so upset over- I didn’t do anything with her.” Cracking open a can, he looked up at Ryan over his sunglasses and added for the express purpose of being an ass to him, “Not yet.”

After that, you and Johnny kept seeing each other in secret. It was like you were a pair of teenagers sneaking around together- all you were missing was a pair of bleachers to make out under. You had to, given the fact he was only in town for a couple weeks. There was a thrill to it, trying to avoid the other guys by slipping behind cars while you were pretty sure nobody was watching (except that one time with Bam, that sneaky little shit- you had to pay him off to promise not to tell on you) or having quickies in bathroom stalls. I mean, you had to make the most of your time together, right?

If you didn’t think your brother would actually follow through on that death threat he made earlier when you told him you were interested in one of his friends, you certainly did now that you told him you got pregnant from one of them. “Seriously? Like, actually Y/N?” Ryan’s voice was a muddled mess of emotions after you broke the news, but he pulled himself together, “Alright…who fucking was it?” Swallowing, you got an idea on how you could make sure Johnny would be keeping his head on his shoulder after you hung up the phone. You needed to phrase this carefully. “Uh, it’s PJ’s.” PJ, PJ…holy shit that’s Knoxville. Given the fact he usually referred to him by his stage name, it took Ryan a second to connect the dots.

You didn’t tell Johnny- you hadn’t decided what you wanted to do yet, and even though you really, really liked him, you weren’t sure how the hell he would react to finding out one of his hookups got pregnant, but you knew eventually you would have to come clean to him. Ryan wanted to ask how the hell all of this happened since Johnny left Westchester for LA months ago, but he didn’t wanna think about how that happened because he knew fully well himself and didn’t wanna have to hear it from you, much less imagine the two of you screwing. Fuck. He needed a drink…

[fahbev]

Hi! Saw you jumped on the tim hate train, welcome to the club! Aplarently you're Damian fan, which is good bc hes also one of the characters who's hit by tim's..woobification? Victimization(???) while simultaneously being the bestest, most competent batfam member. You Damian fans honestly have my respect for the pure amount of shit Damian gets because of tim.

hi lmao. Thanks xD. I usually try to keep all my negativity off of the internet, but last night I was going the anti Tim drake tag bc my frustration was flaring up. At first i was collecting posts by liking them instead of rb, then I was replying, and then at some point... “Fuck it. I want this on my blog.”

(This is gonna be a ramble btw, I don’t care abt making a good post rn.)

I used to be fine with Tim! I think the whole thing was a lot less prominent in the dpxdc fandom bc DANNY was the fan favorite/community elected woobie, but then I kinda moved out and... well. It still took awhile for this issue to seep in bc those Tim fans (you know the ones) are certainly a minority, but I just don’t think you can be a Damian fan for longer than a few months without getting frustrated.

Nowadays I refuse to read anything tagged with any variation of “Tim Drake angst” that features the batfam. Timkon fics are usually just fine though.

Actually— recently? Shit’s been bothering me so bad that I don’t wanna risk reading fics that have Tim in the first relationship tag at all. He’s gotta at most be in the second one. Ship fics are again an exception, but I don’t tend to seek out ship fics much anyway.

But, like I said, I usually keep it to myself. Every time i catch myself venting in the tags I either screenshot the tags and delete, or I delete and retype them. I put them into a private notes document. I also journal in there a lot instead of posting it.

That document is pretty long.

I do wanna say that there’s nothing wrong with what tim fans are doing. It is fun to woobify your fave. It’s fun to prop them up and tear others down and make everything about your blorbo and it is harmless. I do it too (usually in my daydreams). It’s a fantasy, and that’s what fanfiction is for. People who act like it’s “problematic” are wrong. That doesn’t mean it’s not annoying. Because it is. It’s annoying as all fuck.

Also wanna mention that I once read a damian fic that like... started off with some delicious whump, but then it turned into a whole Damian pity party and it guilt tripped all his friends and family. Damian IS my blorbo and I couldn’t read that. I didn’t even know who Maps was at the time but it seemed so bizarre to throw her under the bus. Anyway I feel like that’s what a quite large portion of Tim fic is like except a bit less extreme.

I used to tell myself that “ohhh it’s just a rivalry. I’m sure Tim fans get the same shit in reverse all the time” but I literally NEVER see it in the other direction and spend the most of my time in Damian circles. The only time I see tim hate from damian fans is frustration at those particular fans in response to it or in response to favoritism of authors.

I mean i saw a good chunk of it last night, but what else can I expect from the anti tim drake tag?

It’s actually funny how most of the stuff in anti tags is polarized hate shitting on the character with a lot of bad takes, but in tims anti tag it was almost exclusively frustration from Damian and Jason fans, and usually pretty mild takes. Also people calling Tim boring.

Ngl, Idk much about Jason. I’m familiar with his fanon, but the only comic i’ve read that featured him in a major way was Gotham War. I don’t know him well, and I don’t have too much interest in him. However, I hate “Jason falls over in guilt and kisses Tim’s fingers begging for forgiveness” type posts in solidarity. It’s yucky.

Anyway, I didn’t even mean to get on this anti tim train you speak of, It just sorta leaked out of my vent doc. Don’t expect me to keep posting about it.

but also... don’t not expect it. It might happen.

Even so, my dms are absolutely open for Timothy Drake related frustration! I’m pretty tired of being nice to him.