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oatmealwrites · 5 months ago

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NSFW Holiday Hoes: [Frat JJK AU] Megumi x Reader

Holiday Traditions!

Vet Student! Frat Member! Megumi x F!Reader

Megumi's always been called the total scrooge of Christmas despite never having a stable family to celebrate the holidays with. Though this year he's hoping to make some good memories with you... even if you do drag him to go ice skating despite his protests.

note: reader and Megumi ARE IN COLLEGE. I will NOT write ANY nsfw jjk fics w the students unless they are aged up to their 20s.

Tags: porn with plot, friends to lovers, down bad Megumi, Yuji and Nobara cockblock, sweet toothache fluff at first, mentions of arousal & masturbation, megumi calls reader 'angel', oral [f receiving], female anatomy, p in v, protection used!, condom, missionary, legs on shoulders, aftercare, established relationship at end, MDNI, 18+

Holiday Hoes Masterlist

regular masterlist

not totally proofread

Word count: 9.9k (im cooking again, maybe)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fluff of a certain white-haired dog sticks to your shirt as you read out the answers from the mock exam back to Yuji and Nobara who look more sullen with each question you reveal. Snacks and soft drinks litter the kitchen of the apartment and both of Megumi’s dogs circle the table like sharks waiting for stray scraps.

Yuji places a firm ‘X’ on the last answer and throws his hands up in exasperation, “This is insane! Surely you’re reading the answer key wrong!”

You look down at the paper before turning to the man on your right, handing Megumi the mock exam answer sheet and now carefully peeling tufts of fur from your shirt. Nobara compares her sheet with Yuji, silently cursing as she notices their tied score for 4/25.

“Nope, she did it right,” Megumi places the sheet of paper across from his two friends, “You two just failed. Again.”

A pity giggle escapes your lips and Megumi looks over in your direction, the ghost of a blush on his cheeks before he returns a solemn face to the pair.

“Argh! This is impossible.”

“Really! The prof has to curve it!” “No one in the class is doing well either.”

“I heard people will file complaints for his lack of teaching.”

Nobara and Yuji go back and forth spouting excuses for their poor scores, blaming everything and everyone but themselves for a lack of preparation.

“Enough,” Megumi pushes back from the table and scratches the head of the large black dog at his feet before collecting the stray cans that had accumulated, “If you two fail this exam you’re going to be sitting for retakes.”

The air is deflated from the two, and they immediately sink onto the table in worry and self-pity while you watch Megumi step on the pedal of the recycling bin and dump the aluminum inside. His hair is still messy from bed and his clothes are loungewear of university sweatpants and an oversized band sweatshirt from a concert Yuji and Nobara had dragged him to last semester.

“Ah it won’t be so bad! How many days do you have until the final?” You stand up and collect empty wrappers, silently passing them to Megumi in an effort to assist in the clean up.

Nobara taps her finger to her chin, “Hmmm I think it mentioned it in the syllabus ... .Friday maybe?”

You stop short, “Three days!? And you just now began studying?”

Megumi sighs and watches Yuji sheepishly play with the white dog’s fur, hiding behind the clouds of hair that fly up from the action, “I’m not surprised.”

You wince and lift the answer key back up again, “Well I’m not much help considering our different majors, but I’ll keep reviewing the concepts with you until you have a better understanding.”

Yuji and Nobara shoot up and raise their hands in gratitude.

“Thank you!”

“So kind!!”

“I’ll do any favor you want.”

“Just say the words-”

“–Hey,” Megumi points to the answer sheet with one long finger, his eyes narrowing at both of them, “Don’t take advantage of Y/N’s kindness. She’s willing to help you out but that doesn’t mean you can slack off the entire day and not take this seriously.”

“I am taking this seriously!” Yuji shoots back, his eyes wide with passion and determination, “The resit exam is the same evening as the holiday frat function!”

“We can’t miss it!”

Megumi nearly deflates from the response and resorts to picking up the TV remote and flipping through the channels in the connected living room, uninterested in any other argument that they have to offer. You turn back to Yuji and Nobara who are actively planning their evening plan for the function, the exam completely forgotten.

“Do you guys have a party for everything?”

Yuji snaps back and grins wide, “Yea isn’t it great? I heard Nanamin is making cookies for this one!”

Nobara ‘oooos’ and begins recalling the best cookies her childhood friend had brought her from a trip to Tokyo while you sit at the table and reconsider your choices in life. Megumi slides the remote onto the kitchen counter and looks at the TV before standing next to you and breaking the commotion.

“If you two are going to be unfocused at least make this an honest break. Let Y/N and I also rest in the meantime.”

You look up to him with a slight smile as if to say ‘thanks’ and turn back to Yuji who is already standing from the table and stretching. Nobara follows suit, opening her phone and scrolling a few times before checking the time.

“Hey Yuji– let’s go to the convenience store. I’m hungry.”

“Huhhh? Didn’t you eat earlier?”

Nobara shoots him a glare and Yuji raises his hands up in defeat, not wanting an argument to break out before the clock has even hit noon. You take this chance to stand up and stretch as well, a slight grumble emitting from your stomach.

“Why don’t we go by that new cafe that just opened up? I think it’s only a few blocks down the road and I’ve been dying to try it.”

Yuji and Nobara exchange a glance between each other before turning to Megumi who holds their stare. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes hold enough to show a small indication to something only known between the three of them.

It’s not unfamiliar, the three of them are much closer to each other considering their shared time in high school, though the feeling is still as isolating as ever. You look between each of them, wondering what the inside reference could possibly be before Yuji speaks up and awkwardly scratches the back of his head, “Ahh that cafe? Maybe some other time Y/N… we’re just getting snacks for now.”

You force your lips into a tight grin and nod once, trying your best to not let the feeling of disappointment be heard in your voice, “Oh ok. Pick me up a Red Bull and some chips?”

Nobara smiles once and the two shuffle on their winter jackets before making a promise ‘it’ll only be 30 minutes’ and heading out of the apartment door. Megumi retreats back into the living and sits on the sofa while you take a moment to admire the coziness of the atmosphere. Yuji was the one who insisted their shared apartment needed to be decorated for the holidays and Nobara had offered to assist in setting up. Colorful winter lights are hanging along the border of the ceiling, small stockings that Jin had mailed Yuji hang under the TV using command hooks and push pins, and a semi-alive tree sits in the corner with every branch holding an ornament.

You walk up to the couch and sit on the other side of Megumi, shuffling around to look for a fallen throw blanket to cover your legs with. The dogs move to lay in their respective beds, enjoying the sunlight that comes pouring into from the windows for their midafternoon nap.

“Are you cold? You can have a pair of my sweatpants if you need.”

You shuffle and pull the blanket over your leggings, the edge of your oversized JJK frat t-shirt from a function you assisted in running reaching your mid-thigh, “It’s alright, but I might need to take you up on a sweatshirt later though.”

Megumi smiles gently at you before peeling his eyes off yours and back to the TV which was now playing a cheesy Hallmark flic. The main love interests are currently holiday gift shopping for their mutual friend together, though it’s painfully obvious the male lead is beyond jealous. The cliche of it all is enough to make you roll your eyes, but before you can give a coy remark you catch Megumi’s stare at the screen.

His face is the same it usually is, attentive but uninterested, yet despite that he makes no move to change the channel or shut the TV off. Dark, nearly navy blue eyes, stare between the two characters almost longingly, as if he was watching something he could never have.

Though all other indicators of his body language show otherwise, feet planted on the ground as if he were to stand up at any moment and fingers twitching like he may reach for the remote again.

“You don’t like this movie?”

“Hmm–”, He turns and looks over at you for a moment, slightly pink from catching him off guard, before turning back to the TV. “Oh, more like I find it… unrealistic? Maybe that’s the word...”

“Oh yea I agree. I mean who goes Christmas shopping with their crush for another guy? So cheesy.”

Megumi furrows his brows and shakes his head lightly, his eyes not leaving the movie couple who are now arguing but show nothing but desire on their faces, “Sorry, maybe it wasn’t the best word. I guess unrelatable fits it better.”

You don’t say anything instead of a slight ‘hmm’ for him to continue.

Megumi sighs and shrugs his shoulders, motioning to the array of holiday decor scattered across the apartment but stopping short when his hand nearly reaches your direction, “I just don’t have the same association you guys do with this time of year. Holiday parties with friends and family, decorating trees with tacky music in the background, going on da-”

He cuts himself off and stares at the screen for an extra moment before turning to you earnestly, “Yuji always calls me a scrooge but… I just don’t see the point. It’s not like I grew up experiencing it.”

Fuck. Great, just great. Try to make small talk and accidentally bring up family trauma. Another reminder to never go into the psychology or therapy majors.

“Oh, yea I guess that’s fair,” you snuggle into the blanket further and try your hardest to ignore the pouty form of his lips and the way his hair kisses the apples of his cheeks every time he moves his head. “Are you going to the frat function at least?”

“Huh?” Megumi opens his mouth in awe and raises an eyebrow, “No way.”

“Really? You’re seriously not going?”

“Well..” he rubs the back of his neck annoyed, a slight twitch in his eyebrow, “Satoru is my big… I have no doubt he’ll try to drag me there anyways.”

You giggle and the large white-haired dog stands up from its bed with a long stretch and quick shake before placing its head in your lap and waiting for attention.

“Could be fun~”

“Maybe..” Megumi mumbles as he watches your fingers run through the hair of his beloved pet, soft coos and kisses leaving your lips as you look at the dog with admiration. The same longing look creeps onto his face as he watches you, an almost pained expression as he listens to the soft praises he so desperately wants to hear be directed at him instead of the canine in front of you.

“I guess I just don’t see why this time of year has to be any different than any other season..”

You shrug, still petting the dog and scratching behind its ears, “I mean besides the vibes… it is colder. So better for staying close and warm?”

Megumi pauses and stares at you with a slight blush before the implication of your words sinks in and you raise your hands in protest, “Not like that but I mean… It is cuffing season… which is unrelated! Hahah… when is Yuji back? It’s been 30 minutes right?”

Your words are fumbled and rushed together while Megumi blinks slowly and gently grins, a warm glow on his cheeks, “Well, what do you like to do this time of year then?”

You bring your hands down and rest them back on the fur of the dog, though your attention is still focused on Megumi, “Hmmm, ice skating?”

“Ice skating? Sounds menial.”

“What? It’s super hard at first but also really fun!”

“It's just rollerblading on ice… how is that holiday themed anyways?”

You pause and cross your arms, “Geez, you were the one who asked for my opinion..”

Megumi pauses for a moment and turns back to the TV for a split second, looking at the way the couple is now sharing a passionate kiss having revealed their true affection for one another.

“Let’s go.”

Megumi turns his attention back to you in slight shock, “What?”

“Let’s go ice skating. I’ll show you it can be fun.”

“I already know it won’t be. We can save the money for admission by agreeing to that now.”

You roll your eyes and nearly give up on the idea, your heart slightly retracting at the borderline rejection and go to kiss the dog another light air-kiss. Megumi watches and sucks in a breath, “I mean.. I guess we can give it a try.”

“Really?” Your eyes shoot open and your hand leaves the head of the dog to the armrest of the couch to support your body as you pivot to face him fully, “I’ll show you how fun it can be. I bet all of us will have a great time!”

Megumi sinks back into his chair slightly, taking short glimpses at the TV couple with an uneasy expression now written on his face.

“All of us?”

“... I mean.. I thought you would want to invite Yuji and Nobra.”

He takes the corner of his bottom lip between his canines and bites for a second, the white-haired dog now meandering over to him for attention and placing its head in his lap. Megumi pets it absentmindedly, lost in thought before turning to you, “I’ve already done decorating with Nobara and watched a million ‘classic’ movies with Yuji… if it’s alright I’d like to just do this with you.. And see why you like it so much.”

OH MY G-. stay calm. This is cool. This is totally chill and totally platonic. Right? right.

“Yea, I’d like that.”

Megumi smiles earnestly and an invisible weight can almost be seen lifting off his shoulders at your response. He nods once and turns back to the movie, your bodies still positioned close to each other and only separated by the thin fuzzy throw blanket. Despite the sunlight pouring in from the windows, the array winter lights reflect a warm rainbow of colors on his hair and the chill of the winter air makes you snuggle into the fabric deeper. Before he can open his mouth again there’s a shuffle in front of the apartment door and Yuji swings it open with Nobara following him closely.

“Alright guys! Got the goods!”

Yuji kicks off his sneakers next to the shoe rack and shimmies out of his jacket while Nobara empties the contents of the plastic bag onto the kitchen table. Megumi sighs and stands up, waiting for you and folds the throw blanket once you rise from the couch. With a slight yawn you open the plastic folder on the table and take out the second mock-exam for the final before passing it to Nobara and Yuji.

Yuji lifts his pencil and stares at this paper with determination, “This time– we’ll pass it!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Friday comes faster than you expected, having been so busy assisting Yuji and Nobara with their exam review and running around various shopping malls to finish up last minute holiday shopping that the text message from Megumi indicating he could pick you up at 2pm nearly causes cardiac arrest.

He follows through on his promise, picks you up from your apartment promptly at 2pm, and raises an eyebrow when you suggest playing holiday music during the drive to ‘set the mood’.

“Nonsense… Christmas..? Are you sure this is classic holiday music?”

“Yep! Listen to it every year.”

Megumi shrugs as you two make small talk about campus events, future frat functions, and winter break plans; enjoying the company of each other and a slight burn on your cheeks from how easy everything seemed with him. After only 20 minutes he pulls the car into the parking lot of the ice rink and gives you one last look of ‘are we really doing this?’ before sliding out of the car and opening your door.

It’s busy but not overcrowded, the two of you only waiting about 5 minutes to pay admission, which Megumi insists on paying for you, and grabbing a pair of rental skates. The two of you walk to the edge of the rink and admire the ice for a moment; Megumi walks on the skates with perfect balance and grace making you wonder if he’ll be skating circles around you in no time.

You take to the ice first, sliding on it a few times before planting both skates and moving a few arm’s lengths away from the entrance and turning to watch Megumi. He stares at the ice and grips the edge of the wall, mirroring how you had felt the ice before pushing off with both feet towards the center.

You watch in awe at first at the way he glides further down the ice, before he lifts a leg to push off and immediately crashes down onto the rink. The ice pushes his body so he slides into the wall with a ‘thud’ and it takes all of your personal resolve to not immediately lean over and cackle.

“Oh my– pfft- Are you? Heheh Are you ok?”

“People find this fun?”

You stand next to Megumi and offer a hand, which he wastes no time in taking, and pull him to his feet so he can balance against the wall.

“It’s fun to me.”

“Yea, probably funny watching me fall.”

The cold air nips at your cheeks and nose, painting them a pale pink while you dust off some of the ice from his jacket; the moment is so wholesome you can’t even think about anything else besides the man in front of you and his lack of balance.

“Come on~ try again ok?”

Megumi sighs but listens regardless, pushing off the wall and immediately falling back down, scowling when a small child easily glides past him without any help at all. The cycle repeats a few times, and by the 4th time he falls, the confidence and patience in the activity is nearly drained.

“Ok, how about this?” You drag him up again, as you’ve been doing the whole time, but this time you don’t let go of his arm. “It seems like you prefer holding onto the wall… so why don’t you just hold on to me?”

“Huh?”

You skate outwards and drag his body off the wall, watching the way his face goes from flinching to fascination when he doesn’t immediately topple over. An arm wrapped around his bicep, as he always been this fit?, you gently guide the man down the ice. Megumi doesn’t miss the way your eyes are looking everywhere but him and the intense blush on your face that is surely mirroring his own; he swallows thickly and leans into your touch slightly, trying to memorize the way it feels to have you wrapped around his arm as if your bodies were made to fit together.

“See? Not too bad right?”

Megumi looks down at you and grins, though holds his sarcastic tone for the bit, “Mmmm I guess it could be worse..”

You gently nudge him and laugh while he lets out a few chuckles and matches moving his legs at the same interval as your own. A fast learner, you both manage to do an entire lap around the rink without falling over, though a few wobbles on a particularly beat up patch of ice causes his grip on you to intensify.

“You’re a natural.”

“Only able to do this because you’re here with me.”

Looking up at Megumi it would be impossible to miss the way he’s staring at you, admiration and honesty on his face while his gaze swaps between your eyes and your lips. Excitement coursing through you now, your head subconsciously leans in when his hand dips from your shoulder to waist and pulls you closer into his body.

About to shut your eyes, your body jerks when the same small child from earlier glides right past Megumi, but close enough to make him flinch and stumble. In slow motion, he topples to the ground and drags you along with him, hitting the ice with a combined ‘thud’ as you land side by side and still wrapped into each other.

“I… I’m so sorry! Are you hurt-”

Tears break from your eyes and laughter leaves your lips loudly without any care, the entire situation being too funny and cliche to elicit any other kind of reaction from you. Megumi chokes on his words and watches you with his eyes wide and lips parted; any resentment towards the annoying kid for ruining the moment instantly dissipates as he gets lost in the sound of your laughter.

“You’re ok?”

“Hmm?” You wipe a tear and sit up on the ice, Megumi's arms still wrapped around you as they were earlier to break to your fall, “Yea I’m fine. This is just part of learning and it’s hilarious.”

His face is bright red and before he can lean in again, in an attempt to re-do the one thing he’s been aching to do for months now, a whistle blows signaling the end of the open session. Looking up at the time you wonder how 2 hours could fly by so fast before standing up and pulling your companion to his feet right after.

“What do you usually do after ice skating?”

You glide to a halt and step off the ice and onto the mats on the floor, offering Megumi a hand when he follows suit, “Hot cocoa? We can make some and watch a movie?”

The man at your close side, closer than usual, slides out his phone and checks the time, “That sounds good. Yuji and Nobara are still on campus for a while.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your lips hover above the rim of the mug, blowing steam away from the beverage before taking a sip and sighing at the familiar flavor. Another cheesy holiday romance movie plays in the living room while you lean against the kitchen counter and watch Megumi pour himself a hot chocolate. Silently you pass him the toppings—whipped cream, marshmallows, and chocolate syrup—while he raises an eyebrow at you and mumbles about ‘getting a stomach ache’ before adding them into his mug.

“So… how was ice skating? 1 through 10 ranking.”

Megumi winces at the sweet flavor of the beverage and leans his weight into the counter next to you, so close that the scent of his laundry detergent fills your senses.

“Well I did fall a lot..but,” he looks off with a slight blush and coughs slightly. “I guess it’s not so bad given the company.. Maybe a 6?”

“I’ll take a 6. You know the more you do it the better you get? We can go again next weekend if you're free.”

Megumi watches as you sip on your hot cooca, eyes lingering on the way your face lights up at the same flavor he can’t seem to digest without getting a toothache; he takes another sip regardless, wanting to experience it the same way you certainly were. You don’t pay any attention until the feeling of a paper napkin is wiping your cheeks at the whipped cream that had rubbed off against your face with your last sip.

Smiling up at Megumi and aching to slow your increased heart rate, you take the napkin and wipe off any remnant while he continues staring at you; lips part and close again as if he were constantly trying to start a sentence before backpedaling and remaining silent. This particular holiday movie in the background shows two friends attempting to make a gingerbread house, though their touches against each other are anything other than platonic.

Megumi watches it for a moment before inhaling slowly and resolving himself to finish what he keeps trying to start, “I want to do that again. Go ice skating with you again. But…”

A deep breath escapes his lips and you internally prepare for rejection.

It’s fine… just happened to misread the situation. If he doesn’t want anything more… it’s just something to accept and move on… even if it hurts like a bitch.

“I have to come clean about this-” he places his mug on the counter and looks intently at you, “I accepted the offer as if it were something friendly… like two friends just hanging out,” you wince but he continues, “But in all honesty I wanted it to be different. For us to be different.”

He pushes off the counter and moves forward to face you head on, “I’m sorry about my intentions… and lack of clarity for them but..” he pushes a chunk of his hair back in frustration at the way he keeps getting caught in his words and the strands fall right back into the same place, “I just can’t sit here with you drinking hot cocoa, watching movies, going ice skating and feeling you hold onto me and pretend to feel something platonic when the only thing I want is for us to be anything but that.”

Huh? HUH?

Megumi stands in front of you, waiting for anything to leave your lips at his words, and cringes at himself for the lack of clarity in the way he worded everything. The black-haired dog nudges into his leg waiting for a treat or some attention, but he stands motionless waiting for your response.

“I think I understand…and I feel the same. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t secretly wish ice skating was a date.”

“It could be.”

You look up at Megumi who watches you with eyes full of a different kind of longing than they hold during the movie; his eyes watch you carefully as if at any moment you could back pedal and crush his vulnerable heart.

“What do you mean?”

“Well..” he takes the mug from your hands and places it on the counter next to his, “we can mark this one down as our first?”

His voice is gentle and sweet, his eyes searching yours for reciprocation when you resolve to wrap your arms around his neck and bring him in for a kiss. There’s a slight sigh through his nose at the feeling, soft lips move against yours, and your hands tangle in his messy dark hair. You both break away for a moment, taking in the realness of the situation before connecting at the mouth once more and pulling each other in closer to solidify the mutual decision.

Tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss further, his lips move in sync against yours while his hands rest politely on your back. A whimper escapes his mouth when your hands leave from the mess of his hair and reach around to grab his knuckles and push down to rest his palms on your hips. The sound of his earlier disposition melts into a moan when he’s given permission to sink his fingertips into the flesh of your hips and waist, relishing in the moment he’s been dreaming of.

His hands massage the flesh and occasionally dip down just a liiittleee lower to grab at the upper curve of your ass; your lips break and reconnect with more force. With a slight tug on his hair and knead of your ass, his tongue pokes out to break a testing swipe across your bottom lip. Instantly you part open your mouth just a bit wider to feel the hot muscle of his tongue push against your own, teeth occasionally clacking from the awkward angle before you both find momentum.

Megumi hums into the motion, addicted to running his tongue against yours, savoring the sweet flavor of the hot chocolate.

“I don’t mind that much…” Megumi mumbles, breaking from the kiss for a short moment before reconnecting his lips and taking a firm squeeze of your flesh in his hand, “the taste of that sugary drink” kiss “isn’t bad when I’m tasting it off you..”

Knees nearly weak at the comment and a blush intense across your face, you drag his face into yours with more pressure, trying to hide the embarrassment from his admission. He chuckles and pushes you into the counter further, chasing your lips before a firm sensation pushes into your pelvis and Megumi backs up awkwardly.

Awkwardly pivoting and nearly tripping on the fluffy black dog that was sitting behind his feet, Megumi catches his balance and looks off to the side and brings his hands up in apology.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean… I hope… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable..”

You struggle to follow until your eyes trace past the worry on his lips and slight tremble of his finger tips before sinking further to the obvious erection straining against the fabric of his left upper thigh. He shifts his weight uncomfortably and shoves his hands into the pocket of his jeans, pushing the fabric up to avoid the obvious bulge that grows with the heightened sexual tension.

You feel the slick of your own arousal seep into the cotton fabric of your panties and you clench achingly around nothing. Megumi pants deeply but refuses to make eye contact, silently wondering if he had pushed things too far and broken a boundary by his body’s reaction.

Your mouth feels so dry and your throat is growing tight from the carnal desire building. “N-no… you didn’t make me uncomfortable at all..”

Megumi breaks his gaze from the TV screen and looks back at you, hair disbelieved more than usual and pupils blown wide as he listens to your response. Shit he’s powerless against that stare, well against all of you in truth. Anything you want he’d do, every word he’d listen to; that same hypnotic spell you placed him under the first time Yuji had introduced the both of you.

“Y-yea? It’s ok?”

You nod and drag him back into you, hovering your lips. Surely you could just keep kissing and ignore right? How hard could that be? Haha… we’ll just ignore it…

You reconnect your lips and his hands make no hesitation to rest on your hips again while your hands tangle in his hair before tugging the material of his sweatshirt closer to you. It’s as if he’s drunk, all the plans he had on wooing you are thrown out the window as soon as his skin touches yours.

The plan, the original plan, he had was to impress you at ice skating and maybe even hold your hand during it. That failed, so he resorted to your proposal of hot chocolate and a movie, an opportunity to ask you out, but this time as something more. Even then he couldn’t muster up the courage until you offered to go ice skating again.

You groan against the muscle of his tongue while his hips grind against your pelvis, the friction his body craved finally getting a taste.

No. Megumi knows he has to make a move here; tired of the way he usually sits back and lets life do what it wants with him. It takes Yuji and Nobara dragging him out of the house to actually doing something, and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna let the one girl he’s actually liked kiss him without knowing exactly what he’s been thinking and feeling all this time.

Walking his dogs together, grabbing lunch on campus, fuck even Satoru teasing him countless times at functions for acting like a needy virgin when he stared helplessly at you; begging for an once of attention as if he were a dog.

Megumi pushes into you further, his hand going south to grab your ass and kneed the flesh before his lips break yours and his mouth sucks hard and fat spots onto the side of your neck.

“Fuck.. Megumi—“

His tongue swipes the skin before he sinks his teeth in hungrily, mind going fuzzy from desire and arousal. Every time his name leaves your lips, his teeth sink in just a little bit harder and his cock twitches painfully from within his jeans.

You’re nearly squished between his erection and the corner of the counter, in an effort to breathe you take a step back but Megumi immediately follows suit, mumbling into your neck “Haaa.. don’t run… please angel…”

He grabs your hips steady and reconnects your lips, continuously grinding against you, making no effort to hide the way his body was begging for more. Further crushed between the force of his pelvis and the cool counter, you take a hand down from his hair and place it flat against his chest, pushing back.

Megumi allows himself to be swayed back, momentarily worrying if you would call it off here before you tug on the hem of his sweatshirt. “We can… go upstairs?” You turn to the counter and laugh dryly, “It might give us some more room?”

A shiver runs down his spine and Megumi exhales shakily at the thought while his cheeks puff with every breath. “That’s alright?”

Immediately he thinks of his room, is it messy? Did he pick his clothes up off the floor? Would you notice a very obvious box of tissues and lube on his night stand?

Before he can continue internally worrying about the state of his bedroom, you take him by the hand and nod, mirroring the same face drunken with desire, “yea… I want to.”

Megumi’s brain nearly short circuits at the admission and his body moves towards his bedroom, dragging you behind him, Ok.. this is happening… act casual.

His palms halts on the door knob for a moment, silently wondering when the last time he shaved was, if his deodorant was still working, and– “Oh..”

As soon as he opens the door, both dogs nudge past your legs and get comfortable on his bed and floor, looking up at him as they would every evening routine. Boner still uncomfortable in his jeans with his hands now on your waist while your panties are sopping wet, you both exchange uncomfortable glances.

“Alright.. Sorry..”

Megumi shuffles over and picks up the white-haired dog from his bed while you corral the other out of the door; only stopping once both are shooed back into the living room. Megumi sighs and clicks the door shut before turning back to you; instead of an awkward small talk over the fact his dogs are cockblocks, he resolves to grab your waist with one hand, cradling your neck in the other, and pulling you into a kiss.

Your brain returns to its dizzy and fuzzy state, crawling backwards onto the plush mattress of his bed when Megumi guides you to it, his lips never leaving yours. Fingers leaving the dip of your hips, his hands gently push your back flat while he remains standing between your legs and dips his head down into your neck.

Cool fingers play with the hem of your sweater and admire the warmth of the skin of your navel before playing with the elastic of your leggings. His kisses are lighter than the bruising ones from earlier but each movement of his lips leaves goosebumps on your skin.

“Can I…” he swallows and stands upright, pinching his fingers between the elastic of your leggings, “take these off?”

Heart pounding in your chest and mind fuzzy with desire, you nod once and watch the way he gently tugs the fabric down and motions for you to raise your hips; pulling them past the curve of your thighs and down your ankles before throwing them haphazardly behind him.

Your breath stops as his movements halt, embarrassment burning on your face as he stares at the dark blue cotton that’s stained an even darker color from the amount of slick saturating the fabric. “Oh wow.. Angel..”

The new pet name barely registers in your head before a finger glides up and down the fold of your pussy, occasionally pushing against the wet patch to see how much more the fabric could sop up before it leaked onto his finger. You shiver and whimper with each stroke of his finger, flexing your hips when his other hand moves to rub circles around your clit through your panties.

“Aaaa… M-Megumi..”

Your head is thrown back when he finally hooks his fingers along the waistband and tugs the underwear down to meet your leggings on his bedroom floor. He splays your thighs open with a strong grip on your legs and stares for a moment once more before leaning down to place open mouth kisses along the flesh. One particularly fresh bruise on the side of your thigh gets a few extra kisses, as if an apology from Megumi for pulling you to the ice and causing the small injury.

Impatient hands tangle in his hair as you attempt to tug him to where you need him the most, “Please.. Megumi.. Need you…”

And who was he to resist you? In the same hypnotic trance, he kneels against the edge of his bed and groans slightly at the pressure against his cock before licking a long stripe up your pussy. Nails scraping his scalp and head leaning into the plush blanket on his bed, Megumi wastes no time licking several more long stripes.

It’s the girl he’s been dreaming about nonstop with her thighs spread wide for him, and Megumi finally snaps. All the months of hesitation come rushing back into his mind, remembering every time he was too awkward to tell you directly how he felt, and it flips a switch in him. No longer testing the water, he delves his tongue into the entrance of your pussy and wraps his arms around the underside of your thighs to keep you still.

“Oh my-.. Nnnghh”

His nose occasionally bumps your clit and the reaction leaving your lips makes him only more feral, increasing the sloppiness of his tongue moving in and out your cunt and creating a pool of saliva and wetness staining his chin and the bed below.

The noise is disgustingly lewd, sopping french kisses to your pussy before his tongue rubs against your clit and an index finger slowly stretches you open. You throw your head back in pleasure and Megumi looks up to watch the furrow of your eyebrows before diving back in; his hips humping pathetically against the mattress, erection growing painfully hard.

“Fuck!”

A second finger stretches you open so nicely while his teeth pinch and nip at your puffy and swollen clit. Megumi’s lips continue focusing on you intently, determined to make you finish at least once on his mouth. He’s been dreaming of this moment for so long, and was not about to let it end without making you feel as good as he’s been planning to. All the nights of shoving his hand down his boxers, wishing, needing it to be yours, was nothing compared to the sounds that left your lips and pussy.

“Right.. Ahhh.. right there…”

Digging your nails into his hair and pulling slightly, your back arches when his fingers graze that one spot along your vaginal wall. The sensation has your toes curling and twitching as they rest on his shoulders and he wears your thighs like earmuffs.

“Right here?” Megumi looks up at you, eyes half shut in drunken desire and a mess of fluids dripping down his chin to the bob of his Adam’s apple, before flicking his fingers upright from inside you, “Here, angel?”

A partial whimper, partial gasp is all he needs to hear before his fingers curl to bully the rough patch and his lips dip to rub his tongue against your clit with as much force and speed he could give. Hips twitching and raising to meet his action, a familiar coil builds in your abdomen and you begin to clench pathetically against his fingers.

“Shit.. just got so much wetter f’me..”

Increasing the speed of his fingers to a bruising pace to rut against your g-spot, you throw your head back and convulse slightly at the amount of pleasure that washes over you as your orgasm ripples through your body.

“Yea.. just like that angel.”

Megumi continues thrusting his fingers, though slower, to gently fuck out the rest of your orgasm and then lift his hand to his mouth to suck your cum off of them. You wearily blink at him and sway your head from side to side, the weight of your release leaving your limbs like jelly.

With a slight ‘pop’ of his fingers, Megumi rises once and softly rubs circles into the flesh of your thighs with eyes staring intently at you in stark contrast. Almost as if watching prey, he tilts his head to the side and leans in, “You ok there?”

Sitting on your elbows and catching your breath, you nod once and drink in the sight of him drunk on desire and his lips still glistening from the essence of your arousal. Leaning down he connects his lips to yours, letting his tongue play against yours and provide the taste of your own orgasm with a small hum.

Breaking the kiss with a string of saliva connecting you before it lazily snaps, your eyes break contact from his and notice the way his erection was pushing painfully against the denim of his jeans.

You lick your lips at the sight, silently wondering what his pretty cock might look like, “Want me to help you out there?”

Nearly buckling at your words, Megumi shakily exhales and shakes his head before leaning back and tugging off his sweatshirt and under t-shirt in one pull. Toned and lean abs carve his flesh and a dark happy trail begins just below his navel before sinking past the hem of his jeans. The sight is enough for another gush to seep from your pussy and cause your nipples to erect against the fabric of your bra.

“No angel.. But I will definitely take you up on that later.. ‘Cause I think–” he unbuttons his jeans and lets the material fall before kicking them off his legs onto the floor without care, “I might cum the moment I feel your tongue on me.”

You sigh at the sight of his erection straining against his thin cotton boxer briefs, a patch of pre cum staining the gray material even darker. Megumi brings his fingers to the hem of your sweater before pulling it up and above you, eyes lingering on the swell of your tits. Even prettier than he imagined, he dips down to plant open mouth kisses between the valley and wrapping his hands behind your back in an attempt to get the clasp.

After a few failures, you bend your hands behind yourself to release the metal hooks and toss the bra to the corner of his room; Megumi doesn’t bother complaining, now relieved to finally see the tits he’s jerked off to, in person.

Immediately, his lips wrap around your left nipple while his hand lifts to knead the fatty flesh of the other breast. Gentle teeth nip at the hardened bud before sucking a few deep purple hickies around the swell and lower collarbone.

His lips leave a trail of fire, and your hands tug at the roots of his hair when he plants an extra kiss on one breast before swapping to the next.

“Wouldn’t want this one to feel left out.”

You scoff lightly and arch at the sensation of the wet muscle gliding along the sensitive flesh, and the roughness of his hand massaging the smooth skin of your other tit. A few more bruises are sucked onto your chest before Megumi lifts back up and guides you further up the bed to make room for him to climb up and join you.

“Oh wait–” Megumi stands on his knees on the bed and looks around his room, “condom.”

The anticipation of getting a condom and getting railed by the guy you’ve been crushing on, and the guy who’s very appearance causes a gush in your panties, elicits a shiver of excitement. Sighing slightly, he lifts himself off the bed, “I’ll be right back.”

His words are meaningless, as if you were going to leave anyways, and he opens his bedroom door a crack to slip out. Sets of paws against the wooden floorboards can be heard as Megumi shoos his pets away in an attempt to run down the hall to Yuji’s bedroom and dig through his drawers for a rubber.

You take a brief moment to admire his room while he’s away, the tidiness of it all isn’t surprising, but the lack of wall decor and personal memorabilia is. A few posters of bands, notably Weezer, hang on his walls alongside a few photos and awards for his achievements in the veterinary field, but other than that, the room is bare. The color palette is a blue-gray and the only plushies in the entire room are toys for his dogs; a feeling of almost sadness emits from the intense minimalistic aspects of it all. As if he didn’t have anything to fill the walls with, rather than him choosing to leave it completely bare.

“Ah.. shit–” Megumi slips back into the room and struggles to keep his dogs out, “I’ll take you for a walk after..”

After…

The feeling subsides and the anticipation courses through your veins again as Megumi successfully coerces the canines to retreat back to the living room. He shuts the door in success.

“Got it.”

A half smirk that nearly looks out of character is planted on his face while he wastes no time in rushing back up to the bed and positioning himself comfortably over you. Leaning down for another kiss, his erection grinds against your navel, still covered by the thin fabric, but with enough force some of the pre cum smudges onto your flesh.

He sighs at the friction and sits up to shimmy off his boxer briefs and kick them to the floor without care. The happy trail that starts at his navel extends down to the base of his cock into a neat bush of pubic hair; he wasn’t regularly shaving, but still kept things tidy.

Longer than average and slightly thicker than any of your exes, the sight of his dick made the walls of your cunt clench pathetically around nothing. Balls heavy and aching, Megumi wraps his hand around the shaft to give a few pumps before splitting open the foil package and sliding the rubber down his cock.

It takes a few extra tugs before he’s certain it's snug enough, and he nudges your thighs apart with his knees and leans back down into your neck.

“You ready angel?”

“Y-yea.”

You instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders and sink your nails lightly into the flesh of his back as you feel him slowly slide inch by inch inside. The stretch is an erotic burn that, despite the sting, only makes you even hornier for it all.

An uneven breath escapes his lips by the time he bottoms out, taking a moment for you to adjust and Megumi to reel his brain back in to avoid prematurely cumming in only a matter of seconds. You twitch your hips at the feeling of wanting more; his deft hands reach for one of the pillows behind you, and slides it under your hips to make the angle easier to move.

Megumi does a few test strokes before finding a steady rhythm and snapping his hips into yours with a small ‘thawp’ of his balls hitting your ass with every pump.

“Oh shit angel…hnngh.. Better than I ever i-imagined.”

You whine deliciously into his ear and sink a few crescent shapes into his back from the sensation; twitching every time the tuft of pubic hair grinds perfectly against your puffy clit. The sensation is mind numbing and Megumi begins lazily biting at flesh on your neck, pussy drunk from the sensation and devoid of any rationale.

Even with a condom he can feel the way your cunt clenches around him, as if your pussy was molding to the shape of his dick with each thrust. He can’t even imagine hitting it raw, resolving that if you ever let him do that, he might just have to put a ring on your pretty finger.

Over the combined moans and whimpers, the bed frame smacks against the wall in a steady ‘thud, thud, thud’ and the wooden frame creaks from the motion.

“Fuck… Megumi…”

“Yea.. you got it Angel… just haaa.. Keep those pretty hips steady f’me.”

“Megumi! Exam’s over!”

Nearly falling forward and crushing you, Megumi stops all motions while the two of you look at each other in total terror. Despite the cockblock of his roommate and potentially getting caught balls deep inside you, his cock twitches inside aching for release; you dig your nails into his shoulder in worry.

Nobara’s shoes can be heard clacking on the wooden floor next to Yuji in the kitchen, “Hmm two mugs.. But the content is kinda cold… did they go out for a walk?”

“The dogs are here though…”

Megumi hunches over you pathetically and grinds his hips without pulling out before you usher him to back up. He follows your instruction and slides out, watching as you scurry off the bed and gently get on the floor, bringing a pillow for your hips. Eyes wide in understanding that on the floor the bed frame wouldn’t be making any noise, Megumi follows suit and positions himself between your legs again.

This is bad. So very bad. If Yuji heard you two, there was no chance hell either one of you would ever hear the end of it. But… the way you look up at Megumi and spread your legs wanting and waiting for him to continue is enough to disregard any worry.

Sighing at the feeling of your cunt wrapping perfectly around his cock once more, Megumi lifts your ankles to rest upright on his shoulders and begins thrusting again. Not pulling out all the way, his strokes are shallow but forceful, still kissing your cervix with every movement; he plants chaste kisses on your ankles before moving a hand to cover your mouth when a whimper threatens to escape.

“I guess they aren’t home?”

“Oh!” Yuji’s hands can be heard clapping through the door, “He probably finally took her to that cafe! You know I felt so bad the other day, but Megumi would kill us if we took Y/N there before he could ask her out.”

You look at Megumi and nudge the side of his face with your foot in a half-heartwarming and half-teasing manner before he pinches your sole with his fingers. Despite the truth being poured out by his best friends just outside the door, his thrusts are getting more erratic and an orgasm quickly builds in his abdomen.

To even the situation, Megumi slides a hand down further and rubs quick circles against your click, quickly ‘shushing’ you when whines escape your lips in pleasure.

Shit. He was about to cum. About to cum with his fucking friends outside his bedroom door listening.

“Well– Let’s get food then too! Maybe steak?”

Nobara can be heard walking to the front door again and scoffing, “No way– let’s get sushi.”

The pair can be heard grumbling between each other before the front door eventually ‘clicks’ and you're left in silence again.

Immediately, Megumi picks up the pace and rubs quick circles against your clit before pushing your legs off his shoulders and splaying your thighs. Long and harder strokes leave his pelvis smacking your clit, and your head leans back in pleasure at the sensation of his cock smacking into that rough patch over and over.

“Yea angel… cum.. Please– cum on my cock”

As if his words could force the action, the coil building in your gut inevitably snaps and you lean your head into the carpet of his floor and moan out his name.

“Y-Yea.. Just like that.. Fuck.. Y/N.. gonna fucking c-cum” A few more erratic thrusts and Megumi shudders as he cums hot ropes of semen into the rubber of the condom, admiring the cream of your orgasm getting pushed up his shaft to sit at the base. The sight, sound, and smell are so errotic there’s nearly a haze in the atmosphere from the intensity of it all.

Megumi thrusts a few more times with a weak exhale before slipping out of your cunt and hunching over on his knees to slip the condom off. You wearily look around and wince at the empty feeling before sitting up and wiping a few drops of sweat off your tits.

“Oh sorry,” Megumi tosses the soiled rubber into his bedroom trash and rubs the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead, “didn’t mean to drip on you.”

“Hah, it’s alright. Just help me up and we’ll be even.”

Nearly in a mirrored pose reversing the roles of you both today, Megumi pulls you by the hand to stand upright and supports your waist when you nearly topple over. A chaste kiss against your temple, he sets you straight and pushes a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Let’s shower, yea?”

“Mmm good idea, we probably need it.”

Megumi takes a quick peek out of his room before swinging the door open wide and shuffling down the hallway and towards the bathroom with his hand in yours. Both dogs follow suit, but leave space for you to enter the washroom and shut the door.

You giggle slightly as the slight bruises from earlier litter his toned thighs, and Megumi bends at the waist to start the water of the shower and check the temperature. He ensures it’s not too hot and offers you a hand while you both step over the ceramic tub and behind the plastic curtain.

It’s a different level of intimacy than earlier, no longer sexual but still incredibly vulnerable and raw. Megumi wets his hair and shimmies to the side to let you do the same before passing various bottles of shampoo and soap to use; popping the cap, you inhale the familiar scent he usually wears.

“So… that was.. amazing.”

“I agree–” you rinse off soap suds from your arms, “–now what?”

“What do you mean?”

A slight burn goes across your cheeks as you shrug, it’s not like you had the what exactly are we? talk beforehand.

Megumi admires the way water cascades down your body and tilts his head to the side, “I was honest earlier when I said you’re more than just a friend to me… and I by no means see what we just did as casual. To be honest, it pisses me off to even think of this as being anything but exclusive.”

“Sooo.. you want to date? Like.. date-date?”

Megumi looks at you as if it were the simplest question possible, “I do. I want to go places with you and watch the way people look at us. To hear you introduce me to your friends as not just ‘Megumi’ but as your boyfriend.”

You nod in agreement, “I’d like that too.. Though I have a feeling you would rather call me angel.”

“Oh that..” Megumi coughs and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly before moving to change the conversation and stepping out of the shower, “is the water ok? I’ll step out and grab you some towels and a change of clothes.”

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you watch him shake his hair off from side to side like a dog and wrap a towel around his delicious ‘V’ line before stepping out of the bathroom. Enjoying the warmth of the water on your bullied skin for a few extra minutes, you stay behind the curtain before turning the faucet off and hearing a short courtesy knock at the door.

Megumi shuffles in, now dressing in casual athleisure, and uses a free leg to push the dogs back before placing a stack of towels on the counter and a fresh set of sweatpants and t-shirt on the toilet lid. Despite just seeing you naked, his eyes avoid looking at your body as you towel dry and slip into the clothes.

“Ok… I think I get it now–” He throws your towel on the corner of the door to try and admires his ‘veterinary department’ university t-shirt and JJK frat sweatpants on your frame, “the whole.. Wearing your partners’ clothes, thing.”

You smile at him and lean forward to meet his lips gently, his mouth immediately chasing yours as if he needed it to breathe and pouting once you exit and head down the hall. Christmas movie still playing on the TV, you plop down on the sofa and immediately curl into Megumi’s chest when he positions himself next to you.

Back against his chest, head on his collarbone, and legs intertwined with his, the both of you watch the cheesy film as a light snow and wind pick up outside the window. One of the dogs climbs up and rests on the empty sofa cushion next to both of you while the other lays in a ball at the base of the couch comfortably.

It’s a comfortable silence, and the steady beat of Megumi’s heart is nearly enough to lull you to sleep.

“Well? What do you think of this movie?”

Megumi shifts his weight and settles his hand just under your shirt to rub mindless patterns into the softness of your flesh, still relishing in the idea of having you all to himself, “I think I like them now.”

“Really?”

“Yea..”

You remain comfy in his arms before Megumi continues, “I guess I just never had anyone to relate them to, so I figured they were wild overestimations of how it would feel.”

“Hmm? How what would feel?”

Megumi stops tracing your waist and settles to squeeze your body further into his, almost as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go.

“This. Having someone.. Having you.”

You look up at his words and trace his jaw with your finger to usher him into your lips; he immediately connects them happily. Gently leaning in and feeling him stiffen at the action for a potential round 2, a loud grumble emits from your stomach.

“Whoops.. Hahah guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”

Megumi genuinely laughs lightly and your heart melts at the sound as he sits upright, “Come on let’s eat then… I have to take you to that cafe.”

“The one we heard Yuji mention?”

Megumi rolls his eyes at your slight tease but smiles at you, “Yea, I actually had planned on taking you there on a date.”

“Well, you would be.”

Megumi keeps you trapped in his arms despite just proposing to get up and get food, “What do you mean?”

“I mean… we’re dating, and you’d be taking me there.. so it’s a date.”

There’s a slight exhale that leaves his lips before he squeezes you just a bit tighter and places a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “mmm I guess you're right. It’s only fair to take my girlfriend out on a date.”

TY for reading the first installment of the Holiday Hoes! Frat AU JJK one shot series!!

most fics in this will be roughly this length and all in the same AU with some hints at the next few themes hidden in this one :)

writing megumi was lowkey harder than I thot, and i appreciate all comments/reblogs/likes

╰(´︶`)╯♡ -oatmeal

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #Megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro Megumi x reader #Megumi x reader smut #fushiguro x reader smut #fushiguro Megumi x reader smut #oatmealwords #oatmealwrites #oatmealwordsmegumi #oatmealwordsjjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut

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mercurycft · 1 year ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 — 𝐋𝐁

## lucy bronze x reader!

Hello everyone! I’ve been working on this idea for a little while.. its definitely not my best work but i really liked writing this! Enjoy! Love always- RG! x

part 1 of 2! read part two here 2,603 words - this part is mostly build-up!

MATURE CONTENT & LANGUAGE WARNING 18+

The final stretch of the last training session before a break was always the worst, ending with all the girls heaving and sweaty as they piled back into the team changing room. It was Friday, and plans for the evening were already being finalised by the time you entered the room and made your way to your usual spot. Tucked away into the corner, happy to sit down and take off your boots before you heard your name hollered from within the fuss of conversation.

"Oi! Y/L/N, drinks at 8. You get no input or choice..." The voice belonged to Mary and was followed by a hound of laughs from around the room. Drinks were never your go-to, much preferring a takeaway and crap tv in the comfort of your own home. The girls knew this, so instead of asking - they would tell. You knew better than to fight it, laughing with them and nodding before throwing the group a sarcastic double thumbs-up as you placed your boots into your kit bag.

"I'll be there, Pre-drinks at Tooney's I'm guessing?" That was always the plan, meet at Ella's and either walk or get an Uber to wherever the group had decided to spend the remainder of the night. Your question was met with a couple 'obviously's and 'you know it's from the girls, who had now dispersed around the room and started packing their belongings away. You were packed up first, as per usual, and were sat chatting as everyone finished changing. Once everyone had grabbed what they needed and conversations were stalling to a halt, everyone made their collective way through the hall and out towards the front of the building. You, Ella and Alessia led the way, arms linked and phones in hand, already discussing the 'dress code' for the evening.

By the time you had finally made it home, battling through the usual city traffic it was nearing 4pm and all plans for an unrushed evening of preparing were out the window - so after dumping your bag in the kitchen you headed straight for the shower.

_________

The next two hours were spent rushing around your bedroom and flat, drying and styling your hair before applying your usual 'going out' makeup. Next came the clothes and after 6 failed attempts at outfits you had created in your head and two stressed glasses of whatever wine you had in the fridge, you settled on wide-leg jeans and a strapless bodysuit paired with a pair of comfy heels which gave you an extra couple of inches. After packing the essentials into the ridiculously small-seeming bag you had chosen and grabbing a jacket, you were finally ready to head out the door.

The journey to Ella's house wasn't long, 10 minutes at most, and the weather was in your favour - the sun starting to set and a gentle chill creeping through your clothes just as you had arrived at her front door. Holding a bottle of cheap wine close to your side, you rang the bell and waited, soon to be greeted by Alessia and ushered inside - music was already blaring from the kitchen where a few of the girls loitered. Ella grabbed the bottle from your grasp, pouring you a generous glass and placing the remainder into her fridge. "You look fit, mate!" She exclaimed as she turned back to you and passed your drink.

"Oh stop it, look at you Tooney." You said, holding your hand out towards her and feigning a dramatic gasp, you both fell into a burst of soft laughter and moved to join the rest of the group. You said your hello's, exchanging genuine compliments and stationed yourself by the sink, bringing the glass to your lips as the doorbell chimed through the house.

"Fucking hell, Luce! Didn't want to leave the rest of us a chance to pull then?" Ella squealed exasperatedly, throwing her hands up in fake annoyance and stomping back into the kitchen. You straightened up at the mention of the older right-back, taking another sip of your drink as she emerged into the room and said her hello's.

By the time she made it to you, you were sure you could draw her from memory. Watching her closely as she worked her way across the room - you noticed how the white shirt she wore was clinging to her arms and chest in all the right places, tucked neatly into a pair of slack-like trousers which sat loosely around her ankles to reveal a pair of crisp airforce. Before you could react she was in front of you, pulling you in with a gentle hand on the back and a warm smile, giving you a friendly cheek-to-cheek kiss and hug then pulling away and moving back into the centre of the room and retrieving her own drink.

She looked good and she was well aware, which made it so much harder to look away. Having to try your hardest to remind yourself of where you are and who she was. Her glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, with her hair pulled back into her usual bun. You had always found her attractive - how could you not? She looked as if she had been carved by the Gods themselves, with smooth olive skin and muscles that put everyone else to shame.

You had always gotten along well, laughing and joking across the pitch during training. Sometimes meeting her eyes for a moment too long during conversations or humouring the lingering touches when you brushed past each other in social settings. Though nothing had ever come of it, that didn't mean you didn't enjoy the warmth of her hands on the small of your back or the way you seemed to fall into her eyes and stumble on your words when she would catch you off guard and today was no exception. You couldn't help but watch her as she worked the room, engaging in conversations.

When the last of the girls had arrived, the house was buzzing with the type of giddy excitement only alcohol could provide - everyone was a few drinks down now and it wasn't long before you were sat in a taxi heading into town.

_________

10pm rolled around and the drinks were flowing, empty glasses scattered across the table which a few of the girls sat around. Some were stood at the bar, ordering the next round and a few more occupied a section of the dancefloor. You, however, found yourself perched on a bar stool with a drink in hand, ear forward as Lucy told you a story about one of her former teammates. Trying your hardest to pay attention, but too focused on how close together you were.

You could feel her breath on your ear as she tried to speak over the music that rattled through the room. Her hand was placed just above your knee for leverage as she leaned over you and it was all you could think about. The smell of her perfume flooded your senses, disorientating the logical side of your brain which tried to scream through the cloud of subtle arousal that sat heavy behind your eyes. 'This is so unprofessional!' you were aware and you knew deep down this could ruin you - but the sweet smell of her skin was intoxicating.

Your train of thought was interrupted as your eyes refocused, grounding you back into the moment. Realising she now stood away from your ear, instead looking at you with raised eyebrows and a slight smirk across her lips. shit. caught red-handed. You stiffened when she leaned back towards your ear, "Am I boring you Y/L/N? Did you even hear what I said?" You hadn't. but she wasn't asking, she was taunting.

She watched you struggle for an answer, pure amusement plastered across her face. Putting you out of your misery she leant back in, this time pushing you further into your pit. Lips pressed cautiously against your lobe, "Strike one, darlin'." She muttered and you were sure you could feel her smirk against your ear before she departed entirely and you lost her in the crowd of bodies around you. strikes? what strikes? You wondered silently to yourself, bringing your drink to your lips as your eyes scanned the dark room but she was already gone.

_________

An hour later you found yourself on the dancefloor surrounded by your friends, who were all individually butchering an Amy Winehouse classic. As the song wrapped up to an end, you were pulled into a loose group hug - maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was just the love you felt in that moment, but you couldn't explain the warmth that coursed through your veins as you looked at your people.

Before long a new song began, a low beat bounced off the walls and wrapped around the bodies on the floor. You didn't know the song but remained with the girls, swaying to the beat and laughing at some of their horrific dance moves. As the song hit the chorus you and Mary gravitated towards each other, dancing and laughing as you stood in front of her and attempted an awful twerk and grind move to the beat with her hands placed firmly on your hips. Both of you played into your roles, spilling your drinks as you did so and adding to the already sticky floor.

It wasn't unusual for the team to dance like this and it was very rarely serious when one of you was pressed back up against another, but today it felt different. One specific set of deep eyes stayed locked on your movements as Lucy watched from the opposite side of the group, tongue rolling along the inside of her teeth when you finally made eye contact from your compromising position. Through the darkness you could see her lips moving; she was talking - or at least mouthing something towards you. You couldn't connect the dots until she lifted her hand in front of her, showing you two fingers. "Two strikes."

What would happen at three? And why were you excited to find out?

_________

It was nearing 11 now and you stood at the bar, almost too close to a woman you had just met - sipping the fruity drink she had ordered you. Normally you would think twice about talking to someone at a bar, but tonight’s circumstances made it a thrilling game and you couldn’t wait to play. You knew she was watching, feeling her eyes bore into the back of your head but paying little attention while you focused on the task at hand. Lucy was standing a few feet behind you, between Ella and Leah who were trying to talk over the music. Lucy wasn’t interested though, her attention fixed on you and your new friend. Gripping her drink so tight she was sure it might shatter as she watched you lift a sly hand up and rest it on the stranger's shoulder. Lucy couldn’t pinpoint the feeling, internally confused at the sudden jealousy that burned deep in the pits of her stomach. Just as you were starting to think she had lost interest, a body was pressed to the side of you, pushing a wedge between yourself and the woman whose name you couldn’t even remember.

The game was no longer fun when Lucy ushered you around the room to say your goodbyes, excusing you both from the function. A few of the girls started to protest but she was quick to respond with “Y/N’s not feeling 100%, said I’d make sure she got home okay.” And that was enough for them. She held you close as you walked out into the street, whispering a small but steady “Third and final.” as she pulled you into a waiting taxi.

_________

The pair of you didn't even make it through the front door before she pounced, your key still in the lock when she had you pinned between her frame and the door. Her hands sat heavy on your hips, eyes locked on yours. "God, you've been drivin' me mental all night.." she groaned, scanning your features.

"Do something about it then," You pushed. This was new but unbelievably exciting, you had never seen her like this. Before you could speak again her lips were on yours. Rough and urgent, like she was scared someone would rip you right out of her grip. "Inside," You managed to mumble against her lips, unlocking the door and pulling her inside - not wasting any more time to attach your lips together again.

This time was different, a rage of hunger alight in the depths of your stomach. Your hands sat on the nape of her neck, lacing through the small amount of hair that had fallen from her bun throughout the night. Her hands couldn't settle, exploring your figure and fisting at the fabric that separated skin from skin. Somehow during this you had travelled through the hall and were now fighting through your bedroom door, shoes and jackets kicked off and discarded around the flat - highlighting your erratic path.

Once inside the safety of your bedroom, things seemed to slow. The initial hunger and speed now dimmed into lust. Yearning. She pressed rough but calculated kisses down your jaw, lingering below your ear for a moment before moving across your collarbones. The feeling made you shudder, holding her head in your hands.

She had you stripped in minutes, now pulled tightly against her in your underwear. "Jesus Christ Y/L/N are you trying to kill me here?" She murmured, thumb caressing the lace across your chest, tracing the shapes for a second before her eyes met yours. A moment passed and you were growing impatient, inhaling deeply when the pad of her thumb found your nipple through the thin fabric and circled gently. You could tell she was enjoying this, watching you shift your weight from side to side as she slowly broke you down.

"On the bed." You were quick to obey, laying down in front of her - on display. She made her way towards you, situating herself above you and lifting your legs to bend and sit beside her hips. She kissed you deeply, hands latched onto your thighs. The world seemed to melt away around you and all you could think about was the throbbing between your legs.

"Need you," You managed to croak out, hands pulling at the fabric of her trousers - desperate for some form of friction. She let out a cocky scoff from above you.

"I'm not sure you deserve it, love. Haven't been behaving, have you?" She spoke rhetorically, tutting and raising her hand to toy with your bottom lip. "And only good girls get rewarded.." She added lowly as her hand travelled down from your face, tugging at your bra and moving to take your nipple into her mouth. You let out a small moan when you felt the warmth of her mouth on you, legs constricting around her and your back arching into her touch.

You writhed beneath her as she moved between left and right, her hand now finding its way to your underwear. She had two fingers pressed against your clit through the fabric, letting out a soft hum against you when she felt your arousal through the barrier. "Got you all wet for me, hm?"

"Please," You whimpered, lifting your hips up towards her hand. Desperate for some relief for the ache, eyes glassed over with desire.

"Begging for it already and I'm only just getting started. What a shame.."

538 notes · View notes

lowlylux · 1 month ago

Text

Silver Spoons (And Butterknives)

Chapter Seven I Fear of Loss

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 16.8k

Ship: Jegulily/Wolfstar

Warnings: Implied Self Harm | discussions of suicide

Description:

For a moment he wishes Sirius was there.

He closes his eyes, allowing him to accept it even as his lungs scream for him to continue fighting. He hurts...so much. It is overtaking him, drowning out the voices that continue to berate his mind. But he still cannot bring himself to fight back. His mind goes fuzzy, his consciousness beginning to lessen its hold on his body.

Yet, for a moment, he swears the pressure of the water leaves him.

He swears that he is gasping for air and actually obtaining it. And, the thing that makes him fully realize that this is his mind's last attempt to give him peace, is the mirage of his brother staring down at him, eyes widened in shock.

And just like that, Regulus finally loses consciousness.

Or...

A simple loophole ensures the survival of Regulus Black, and he is about to make it everyone's problem.

Ao3 link

"Why does he still have it?" Sirius hisses, his voice cutting through the warmth of Potter Manor like ice. He doesn’t care that his brother can hear him from beyond the closed bedroom door. Let him. Let Regulus hear every ounce of his fury, because Sirius isn't going to swallow it down. Not for this.

He doesn't care that Euphemia and Monty can hear him from downstairs. They are free to listen. He would be going in on them as well if he didn't respect them so much. Not that he disrespects any of his friends either, but you don't yell at your parents. Especially not the ones that take you in the way they did.

The fire crackles in the nearby hearth, casting flickering shadows against the walls, but the usual comfort of the Potters’ home does nothing to temper the heat in his blood. His hands curl into fists at his sides, nails biting into his palms. MHe turns on James and Lily, barely resisting the urge to shake them. Usually, he’d rather hit himself with a killing curse than yell at James. But here he is, doing exactly what he dislikes doing.

James exhales, scrubbing a hand over his face. He looks exhausted, his glasses slipping down his nose, his hair even messier than usual—like he’s been running his hands through it too many times. Sirius doesn’t care.

Well…he does. But he does not want to admit to that right now so he simply repeats that he does not care in his head until he believes it to be true.

"What did you want us to do? Throw it away?" Lily’s voice is sharp but quiet, as if she’s trying not to let it carry. Her eyes dart to the door like she expects Regulus to come storming out. But he doesn’t. The silence from the other side is suffocating.

"You didn’t see him, Sirius," she continues, voice raw, pleading in a way that makes something twist inside him. "We couldn't just dump it."

His jaw locks. He doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t want to picture whatever state he was in before. James has refused to tell him exactly what happened, but he can piece together things. And from what he has pieced together, he doesn't like it.

"I did charm it to keep it safe," James mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze flicking away.

Sirius' eye twitches.

"You charmed it," he echoes, voice low and sharp. He could laugh if he weren’t so fucking furious. Of course James did. Of course he tried to fix it like some well-meaning…but that is just how James is. Sirius shouldn't be surprised. He isn't.

Sirius drags a hand through his hair, turning away before he does something reckless, like throw a punch or tear apart the nearest piece of furniture. The fire crackles behind him, the warmth pressing against his back, but it doesn’t chase away the cold sinking into his bones.

Beyond the door, Regulus does not make a sound.

"Sirius, love…" Remus mutters, his voice low and careful, like he’s trying not to startle a wild animal. His fingers slip into Sirius’ clenched fist, prying it open with gentle insistence. He squeezes.

The warmth of it, steady and familiar, pulls Sirius out of his thoughts, out of the spiraling rage curling hot in his chest. His pulse is still hammering, breath still sharp, but Remus’ touch is an anchor, and he hates how much he needs it.

"I know you're angry," Remus murmurs, his thumb brushing over the bruises Sirius' own nails have left in his palm. "But this isn't right."

Sirius scowls, ready to snap, to tell him exactly how wrong this is, but then Remus glances at James and Lily instead of at him.

Sirius takes a sharp breath, and something bitter rises in his throat. No. Moony should be looking at him. Not them. Not like they’re the ones who need calming down, like they're the ones who matter most right now.

The jealousy is quick and ugly, flashing through him before he can shove it down. No, this is James and Lily. Their James and Lily. There is no jealousy to be had because they are all the other wants. And Remus is his. But still, he frowns, stubborn and petulant, until Remus finally turns back to him.

"They’re trying their best," Remus says, quiet but firm, the way he always is when he’s decided Sirius is being unreasonable.

Sirius clenches his jaw. He knows that. He knows. But knowing doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

“That doesn't mean I have to like it.”

"None of us like it, Sirius," Lily says, voice tight with frustration. Her arms cross over her chest, her fingers digging into the fabric of her sleeves. Her eyes are sharp, glittering with something between exasperation and exhaustion.

"But what are we supposed to do?" she continues, lifting her hands in mock cheerfulness. "Go, ‘Oh hey, happy holidays! Actually, here—give us the dark magical artifact that you just destroyed, the one that spent over a month sinking its claws into your head and then paraded around as your ex—the one you clearly have a fantastic history with! We need to toss it out now!’”

Her voice lilts into forced brightness, her brows lifting in exaggerated disbelief before she drops the act, mouth pressing into a thin, unimpressed line. She stares at him, waiting, daring him to argue.

And well…when you put it like that—

Sirius bristles, the sarcasm making his temper spike instead of settle. His hands clench again—yet he is careful not to harm Remus—heat prickling at the back of his neck. He hates it—hates that she’s right, hates that she’s saying it like he’s the idiot here, like he’s being unreasonable for wanting to burn the damn thing to ashes.

His teeth grind together as he glares at her, but Lily doesn’t flinch. She never does.

And worse, James isn’t stepping in, isn’t jumping to Sirius’ defense like he used to back at school when Sirius and Lily would go head-to-head over something stupid. No, James just sighs and runs a hand through his already disastrous hair, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

Sirius’ jaw tightens. He feels cornered, outnumbered.

He wants to argue. He wants to tell them that keeping it is a mistake, that Regulus shouldn’t still have it, that if they had any sense at all, they would have taken it and gotten rid of it before Regulus could even think about holding onto it.

But he doesn’t. Because for all his anger, he can’t shake the image from his mind—of Regulus, hollow-eyed and shaking, hands clenched around the remnants of something that never should have touched him in the first place.

Sirius scowls and looks away, but not before he mutters, "Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t get rid of it."

"Merlin…" Lily breathes, sharp and exasperated, her hands clenching at her sides. She whips her gaze toward James, her expression demanding an answer from him. But James doesn’t rise to the bait, just exhales through his nose and stares at the floor as if it might offer him an escape.

Lily lets out a quiet scoff before turning back to Sirius, her green eyes ablaze. "Sirius, you are a fu—"

"I'm going to talk to him."

Remus’ voice cuts cleanly through the tension, calm but firm, like he’s delivering an unshakable fact rather than a suggestion. The words pull Sirius up short, his frustration momentarily splintering into confusion. He turns sharply, brow raised, because—what?

Remus meets his gaze and sighs, shaking his head. "We’re not getting anywhere with this."

Sirius frowns, a sharp retort forming on his tongue, but it doesn’t leave his mouth. Because Remus is right, damn him. They’ve been circling the same argument like rabid dogs, tearing at each other’s throats while Regulus sits in his room, silent as the grave.

But still—

"Remus…" Sirius breathes, and it’s almost a plea, though he doesn’t know for what. For him to stay? To not get involved?

Remus tilts his head slightly. "Sirius, unless you want to go talk to him, let me."

Sirius scowls at the thought. Talk to Regulus? What the hell would he even say? Hey, brother of mine who refused to run away with me and who I assumed was evil, but is somehow…not? You want to talk about trauma? Have a little tea and compare it? Yes, great, now we’re truly best friends. Nothing can come between our wonderful brotherly bond.

The thought alone makes his stomach turn. The idea of sitting down with Regulus, of seeing him, of picking at the fresh wounds between them—it’s unbearable.

Still, the idea of Remus going in alone—

"If he says something rude—"

"You’ll what?" Remus interrupts, arching an unimpressed brow. His voice is flat, bordering on bored, and that somehow makes Sirius more irritated.. "He knows I’m a werewolf, and the only nasty thing he’s ever said about that was at your expense really." His lips twitch slightly, like he finds that fact amusing, and Sirius nearly growls.

"Regardless," Remus continues smoothly, "I’m more than capable of handling myself. Unless, of course, you don’t have faith in me?"

Sirius bristles instinctively. "No!" The word bursts out too fast, too defensive, and he immediately curses himself for how easily he’s walked into the trap. He clears his throat, scowling. "’Course not," he mutters, mostly to himself.

Remus grins, and that’s when Sirius realizes—he planned this. The bastard played him, led him right into a corner with careful words and that annoyingly calm tone, and now there’s no way for Sirius to argue without making himself look even more unreasonable.

It takes Remus all of two seconds to pat Sirius’ cheek, far too pleased with himself. "Great, then I’m going in."

And Remus does.

The silence in the hall stretches unbearably thin.

Sirius stands with his arms crossed so tightly over his chest it’s a wonder he hasn’t bruised his own ribs. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, trying to bite back the restless energy clawing under his skin. The hallway feels too small, too suffocating, even though the ceilings of Potter Manor arch high above them.

James leans against the wall, one foot propped against it, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His gaze flickers toward the door Remus disappeared behind, then away again, like he’s forcing himself not to stare too hard, not to think too much. His glasses have slid down his nose, but he doesn’t bother pushing them up.

Lily stands beside him, arms crossed, expression tight. Her fingers tap against her bicep in a slow, irritated rhythm, and every time Sirius so much as shifts like he’s about to speak, she flicks a sharp glance his way, cutting him off before he even gets the chance.

Sirius grits his teeth, glaring at the opposite wall.

Before he even realizes, it had already been nearly forty minutes.

Forty minutes of standing in this bloody hallway, of waiting, of stewing in his own impatience while Remus plays peacekeeper. Sirius wants to pace, wants to knock on the damn door, wants to do something other than this. But Lily, somehow, keeps shutting him down without saying a single word.

It’s maddening.

The house creaks, old wood shifting in the winter chill. Somewhere downstairs, a clock chimes faintly, marking another passing minute. The fire crackles yet it begins to dim, warmth now barely reaching them here in the corridor.

The door stays closed.

James sighs, running a hand through his hair. Lily exhales through her nose, slow and measured. Sirius clenches his fists and keeps his mouth shut, but only barely.

The scent is faint at first, curling at the edges of Sirius’ awareness, thin tendrils of smoke winding their way through the hall. It takes a moment to register, his thoughts too tangled in frustration, in the endless silence stretching between him, James, and Lily. But then it sharpens, distinct and undeniable, the acrid bite of something burning.

His stomach clenches.

The house is on fire.

Regulus is burning the bloody house down.

The realization hits like a slap to the face, and before he even fully processes it, his body moves on instinct. His pulse spikes as he surges forward, shoving off the wall he’s been leaning against. James barely has time to react, his hand snapping out too slow to catch him. Lily’s voice rises in protest, sharp and warning, but Sirius doesn’t care.

He wrenches open the door with enough force that it bounces against the wall with a loud crack.

And then he stops dead in his tracks.

Because the room isn’t burning. Nothing is on fire. The curtains aren’t smoldering, the furniture isn’t reduced to ashes, the walls remain untouched by the inferno he was expecting to see.

Instead, Regulus and Remus sit across from each other in the dim light of the room, the air thick with something Sirius is far too familiar with. He should have recognized it before. A cigarette, glowing softly at the tip, hovers mid-air between them, still caught between the exchange of one hand to the other.

Regulus blinks up at him, face entirely unreadable, his fingers poised as if he hasn’t just been caught in the middle of something Sirius can’t quite process.

Remus, on the other hand—Remus has the nerve to look vaguely amused.

The tension in Sirius’ shoulders coils unbearably tight, his breath caught somewhere between disbelief and sheer, unfiltered rage. His heart is still hammering from the rush of adrenaline, his mind still racing with the expectation of disaster, and yet—this. This is what he just stormed in for?

His jaw tightens, a vein in his temple pulsing. The acrid scent of smoke wraps around him, familiar in a way that makes something in his chest twist uncomfortably.

Regulus exhales slowly, smoke curling from his lips, dark lashes lowered as he flicks a glance between Sirius and the door he so violently threw open. Then, in the most infuriatingly calm voice Sirius has ever heard, he drawls;

“You could have knocked.”

Sirius is still standing in the doorway, jaw tight, shoulders tense, trying to reconcile the panic that had spiked through his veins with the absolute absurdity of what he’s actually walked into.

“I thought you were burning the house down,” he says, voice clipped, annoyance simmering beneath the remnants of his alarm.

Remus, because he insists on being an insufferable person, just furrows his brows, looking at Sirius like he's the ridiculous one here. “Why would he be burning the house down?”

Sirius makes an incredulous noise, gesturing vaguely toward Regulus as if the answer should be obvious. “It’s Regulus.”

Regulus, for his part, doesn’t even look remotely offended. If anything, he looks bored. “I wouldn’t burn down a house,” he drawls, rolling his eyes like Sirius is the dramatic one. “That’s far too tacky.”

Sirius barely manages to swallow his outrage. He can feel James and Lily standing just behind him in the hall, probably staring at this entire exchange like it's the strangest thing they've ever witnessed. And really, it is.

His gaze flicks past Regulus, and then he sees it. The locket.

It’s sitting on the bed, dull and ruined, the chain still intact, but the rest of it—mostly dissolved. Nothing but remnants. Proof of what’s been done.

Something in his chest tightens.

That locket had been—whatever the fuck it had been, it had done something to Regulus. Had sunk its claws into him and refused to let go. Had turned his own thoughts against him, twisted something inside him, worn him down. And now? Now it’s just…there. Sitting uselessly on the blankets like a discarded trinket.

Sirius’ mouth presses into a thin line. It should be good to see it like this. To know it’s broken. To know it failed.

And yet…his eyes flick to Regulus, watching the way he exhales another slow breath of smoke, the way his fingers are steady as he holds the cigarette between them, the way he’s completely unbothered by Sirius’ presence here, by the locket’s remains in front of him, by any of it.

Sirius’ stomach twists.

Sirius watches the exchange with a growing sense of irritation. There’s something about the casualness of it, the unspoken understanding between them, that makes his skin itch.

He doesn’t like that Regulus is comfortable enough to do this, doesn’t like that Remus—his Remus—is sitting there, sharing quiet, smoke-filled breaths with him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Sirius crosses his arms, his scowl deepening. “Right,” he mutters after a long moment, voice flat. “Because arson would be a step too far.”

Regulus doesn’t even dignify that with a response. He just hums, slow and indifferent, like Sirius is barely worth acknowledging.

Remus exhales a soft stream of smoke before flicking his gaze up toward Sirius, unimpressed. “Are you just going to stand there, or…?”

Sirius huffs, shifting his weight, unsure what he’s even supposed to do with this scene in front of him. He had plans when he barged in here—yell at Regulus, maybe shake him a little, make it clear that he wasn’t allowed to keep making Sirius feel like this. But now?

Now he just feels like the only one in the room who doesn’t belong.

Sirius doesn’t know what to react to first—the cigarette, the locket, the fact that Remus is sitting far too close to Regulus like they’re old friends having a casual chat. His stomach twists, the remnants of lingering tension and fresh irritation curling together into something uneasy.

Regulus shifts slightly, exhaling another trail of smoke before handing the cigarette back to Remus. His gaze doesn’t leave Sirius, sharp and unreadable. “We were having such a wonderful conversation too…” he murmurs, voice light with something Sirius doesn’t trust. Then, with deliberate precision, he adds, “Your boyfriend here is lovely.”

Sirius feels jealousy creep in, irrational and unwanted, clawing up his spine before he can shove it down. It’s stupid—he knows Remus would never entertain whatever game Regulus is playing. But knowing doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the way Regulus is looking at him, eyes glinting with something taunting, waiting for a reaction.

His fingers twitch at his sides. “Glad to know you’re so charmed by him,” he bites out, voice flat and unimpressed.

Regulus tilts his head, the corner of his mouth curling. “Jealous?”

Sirius scoffs, but it’s too sharp, too defensive. “Of you?” he rolls his eyes dramatically at the idea.

Regulus hums, a quiet, amused sound. “No, I suppose not. Not of me.” His gaze flickers toward Remus for just a second before sliding back to Sirius, deliberate, needling. Trying to get a rise out of him.

Sirius inhales sharply, fists clenching as something hot and ugly flares behind his ribs.

And Remus, the absolute traitor, just takes another slow drag of the cigarette, completely unbothered.

“Did he even talk to you about the locket?” Sirius asks, voice sharp enough to cut. His gaze flickers to the bed where the remains of the locket sit in a pathetic heap of melted metal and ruined enchantments. It should be gone. It should be gone.

Regulus doesn’t seem bothered by his tone. If anything, he looks vaguely bored as he exhales a slow curl of smoke into the air before passing the cigarette back to Remus. "He did," he says evenly, lifting a hand to refuse the cigarette when Remus offers it again. His fingers twitch, a movement so small Sirius almost doesn’t catch it. "I’m keeping it."

Sirius stares at him. "No, you’re not."

Regulus finally looks at him properly, his chin tilting the barest fraction, eyes catching the dim light in that way they always did when they were younger—sharp, assessing, a little too knowing for Sirius’ comfort. Sirius would always tease him about how he had dark eyes, how light would seem to avoid them. Now he wonders if it is a byproduct of their parents. "I’ll hex you if you touch it."

Sirius’ teeth click together before he scoffs, derisive and biting. "With what wand?" The words slip out before he can stop them, a reflex more than anything, but fuck, there’s something gratifying about the way Regulus’ expression tightens, like a thread pulled too taut. The slight narrowing of his eyes, the twitch of his fingers, the fraction of a second where something dangerous flickers across his face.

Regulus is so composed it’s infuriating. But Sirius knows the cracks are there.

"Sirius!" James gasps, stepping forward as though he might physically wedge himself into the space between them. His expression is torn between disbelief and horror, like Sirius had just kicked over a cradle. “Are you seriously—” He stops himself, looking helplessly between them, but Sirius doesn’t even look at him.

And then James makes the mistake of stepping closer.

It’s immediate—the shift in the air, the weight of Regulus' attention snapping onto him like a wolf tracking movement in the underbrush. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t do anything, but the pressure in the room changes, curling thick and heavy around them. But Sirius knows Regulus wouldn't actually do anything.

Oddly enough, there is a sparkle in Regulus’ eyes.

James hesitates.

And Regulus just stares.

There’s nothing theatrical about it. No drawl, no casual arrogance—just something still and poised, an observation that James should not be in here. That if he takes another step, Regulus cannot guarantee his best behavior.

Sirius watches as James falters, sees him instinctively shrink back, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he swallows. Bloody hell.

Lily pulls James away, muttering something about how it is not worth it before they both disappear. Good, Sirius prefers that.

The moment stretches unbearably thin, tension coiling like a wire about to snap. And then, just as smoothly as he refused the cigarette, Regulus leans back against the headboard, utterly unbothered. The moment is gone as if it never existed.

“I suppose you’ll just have to get over it, then.” His voice is light, almost idle, as he exhales the last ghost of smoke into the air.

Sirius hates him.

“Well, you can’t just stay cooped up in here,” Sirius snaps, the tension in his chest winding tighter with every word out of Regulus’ mouth. “It’s not fair to James.”

Regulus lifts a brow, slow and deliberate, like Sirius is being particularly stupid. "What about Evans?"

Sirius huffs. “What about her?”

“She’s living here too.”

“It’s his parents’ house!”

Regulus hums, looking almost thoughtful, but the faintest edge of amusement curls at the corner of his mouth, barely there, just enough to needle under Sirius’ skin. “Then you should be worrying about Effie and Fleamont, not Potter.”

It shouldn’t bother Sirius, but it does. His frustration twists, tangles into something more volatile. “You’re ridiculous,” he bites, gesturing vaguely, as if that somehow encapsulates everything that is wrong with this situation—wrong with Regulus sitting here, acting like this, acting like—

Like Sirius doesn’t have every reason to be furious.

But Regulus doesn’t react the way Sirius wants him to. He doesn’t rise to the bait, doesn’t sneer or spit or throw something back in his face. Instead, he just takes a slow breath and exhales, tipping his head back slightly as he lets his eyes drag lazily over Sirius, unimpressed and unaffected.

“You’re just sitting around…doing nothing…moping.”

Regulus shifts slightly, rolling his shoulder before resting his forearm against his knee. “Not a big insult if I have been doing something,” he murmurs, voice light, lilting with quiet amusement, “and moping about.”

Sirius hates him.

He hates how Regulus can make him feel like a fool with nothing but a few choice words and a level stare. He hates how he can never tell what’s going on in that head of his, what game he’s playing, what pieces he’s moving behind the scenes. And Merlin, does he hate how infuriatingly calm Regulus always is, like he’s untouchable, like he isn’t bothered by any of this—

By Sirius standing here, seething over him.

“You’re impossible,” Sirius grits out, but the words feel thin, hollow, like he’s losing his footing in an argument he hasn’t even properly started. He glares at Regulus, but all he gets in return is that same steady gaze, unshaken, like Regulus already knows the fight isn’t worth having. Like he’s already won.

“And you’re going to be expecting company soon, so…” Regulus’ voice is cool, casual, but the words hang in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating. “Hope your flat is tidied up.”

Sirius feels a jolt of confusion, followed by something darker, heavier, curling in his stomach. His brows furrow, his thoughts snapping through a dozen disjointed possibilities before settling on one thing. What the hell is he talking about?

Remus raises a brow, his gaze flicking to Regulus. “What?”

Regulus just shrugs, eyes following Remus as he carefully presses the cigarette out, his fingers quick and sure. !It’s a small movement, but Sirius feels it as sharply as a dagger to the chest—the ease with which Remus handles himself, so steady, while Sirius is unraveling inside. Regulus turns back to Sirius with that look in his eyes like he’s doing this on purpose, like he’s testing just how much Sirius can take.

“I invited Cissa to meet with me,” Regulus says slowly, his voice smooth, the words deliberate, calculated. “Couldn’t particularly invite her here directly because I actually care about their safety. So she’s going to your flat and thencoming here via Portkey.”

Sirius’ face twitches, the words striking with a venomous force that he wasn’t prepared for. Narcissa. Narcissa Malfoy. One of the last people he wanted involved in any of this. One of the last people he wanted anywhere near him. The thought of her, her sharp eyes and ice-cold smile, standing in his flat, using his space like it was her own, has Sirius’ gut twisting violently. It’s a ridiculous request—no, it’s not even a request, it’s an imposition, a reminder that Regulus has control over things he doesn’t even want to think about.

His nose scrunches, like he can physically push the idea out of his head. “That is something you ask about,” he manages to choke out, his voice rougher than he intended.

Regulus doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even seem bothered by the reaction. Instead, he just meets Sirius’ gaze evenly, like this is just another Tuesday for him. “Fine. Can Narcissa come to your flat?”

The words seem to punch the air right out of Sirius’ lungs. No. He wants to say it, to snarl it out loud, to make it crystal clear that the answer is no. No one, especially from their family, is ever coming anywhere near his flat, not after everything. Not after all that’s been between their families.

His hand clenches into a fist, knuckles white, but he doesn’t say it. He can’t. Not when Regulus is sitting there, all cool indifference, like he’s already decided how this will play out. The control is always with him, isn’t it? Regulus always knows exactly what buttons to press, how far he can push before Sirius breaks, before he cracks open and spills all his anger.

“No.” The word tastes bitter on his tongue, like an aftertaste of something sour. His eyes narrow, and the seconds stretch longer than they should as he tries to find something to hold onto in the midst of this chaos. But there’s nothing solid. Nothing to ground him.

Regulus doesn’t seem bothered by his refusal. In fact, the smile that curves at his lips is almost…too pleased. "Too bad," he says simply, with that infuriating calm.

Sirius opens his mouth, but the words catch on his tongue. He wants to scream, to demand Regulus stop this ridiculous game, but he can’t. All he can do is stand there, seething quietly, and feel the frustration boil over in every muscle, in every clenched fist. How does Regulus do this? How does he make Sirius feel so small, so helpless, without lifting a finger? Without doing anything but talk?

Sirius exhales sharply, his breath catching in his throat. The heat in his chest is rising again, pulsing, a sick kind of desperation clawing at him. He wants to punch something. He wants to throw everything in this room into the fire and watch it burn to ash. But instead, he stands frozen, caught in the storm that Regulus has created and that he can’t escape.

And Regulus just sits there, that damn look still in his eyes—like he’s already won.

Because truthfully, he has.

✧˚ · .

“I don’t like this,” Sirius mutters, arms folded so tightly across his chest that his shoulders ache. His eyes stay fixed on the fireplace, as though staring it down might stop the inevitable. The flames crackle, warm and harmless for now, but he keeps expecting something worse—snakes, maybe, or his mother’s voice rising from the ashes, hurling curses like she used to do years ago.

“I know,” Remus murmurs. His breath ghosts over Sirius’ skin just before he presses a kiss to the side of his head—gentle, casual, completely disarming. Sirius doesn’t mean to lean into him, but he does. His body seeks Remus without asking his permission. That’s the trouble with love, he thinks—it makes you pliant even when you’re furious.

“She’s going to walk into our flat, Remus. Like it’s hers. Like she belongs here.”

“She doesn’t,” Remus says with maddening calm. “But Regulus did invite her.”

That name alone curdles something in Sirius’ chest. He scoffs, bitter and sharp, like he can spit the discomfort out of his mouth. “He should have asked.”

“He should’ve,” Remus agrees, still infuriatingly even, like they’re discussing something innocuous. Like this isn’t war. Like this isn’t Narcissa Malfoy stepping through his Floo, tracking the scent of old manor halls and long-dead privilege into the living room he built out of broken things.

Sirius spins to look at him, eyes narrowed, and finds what he feared: amusement. Remus isn’t even trying to hide it. There’s a barely restrained smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Sirius demands.

Remus smiles, fully now, eyes warm and infuriating. “Very much so, yes.”

Sirius pouts—an actual, ridiculous pout, and he knows it. But he feels too unsettled to care about dignity. He hates that Remus is looking at him like he’s some charming puzzle to be admired and solved, instead of someone on the brink of combusting.

Narcissa. In his flat. That thought alone makes him feel itchy beneath his skin, like the walls are closing in.

He starts pacing, footsteps heavy and uneven. The floorboards creak, each one a small betrayal. “She’s going to come in here with her stupid smirk—”

“Love, you have a stupid smirk.”

Sirius gasps in shock, utterly appalled before deciding to continue on, “And she’s going to look around at everything—the chipped tea mugs, the secondhand furniture, that bloody Muggle kettle I like—and she’s going to think it’s quaint.”

Remus hums, unimpressed. “She’ll survive.”

“That is not the point,” Sirius snaps, whirling on him. “The point is that Regulus doesn’t get to decide who enters our home. Not without telling us. Not her.”

He doesn’t say that it feels like a violation. Like a test. Like Regulus is trying to wedge pieces of the past into the fragile, mismatched thing Sirius has built here. It already creaks under the weight of memory—he doesn’t need Narcissa pressing her hands against the walls. He doesn’t need cracks to begin to appear just because his old family decides to overstay their welcome.

Remus steps forward, intercepting his path mid-pace. His arm slips easily around Sirius’ waist, gentle but firm. Sirius stiffens for a moment, pride bristling, and then—like always—he lets himself be held. Because Remus is safety. Because Remus knows how to hold anger without shrinking from it. Because Remus doesn't shrink away from him.

“He’s trying,” Remus says quietly.

Sirius scoffs again, but it’s softer now. Tired. “He’s reckless. He still thinks everything can be solved with a random visit for something no one will tell me the purpose of.”

“Maybe he wants you two to get along.”

Sirius exhales, slow and shaky. “We don’t get along,” he mutters into Remus’ jumper. It’s a familiar fabric—scratchy wool that smells like tea and ink and the forest. “We never have.”

“No,” Remus agrees. “But he must have a reason. Maybe trust your brother?”

Sirius shuts his eyes.

He doesn’t want to picture Regulus, not now. Not when the memory of that smug little tilt to his brother’s mouth still sits behind his eyelids like a bruise. He acted like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just invited a ghost of another life into Sirius’ home.

That particular brand of arrogance—polished, passive-aggressive, and unbearably Black—grates under Sirius’ skin in the worst way. He misses, for a moment, the version of Regulus who had looked wrecked. Shaky hands. Hollow cheeks. Eyes like someone still drowning. At least that version had been quiet.

It’s a cruel thought.

He knows that.

He doesn’t care.

He lets out a slow, poisoned sigh, dragging his fingers through his hair until it stands on end. “She’s going to be insufferable.”

“She always has been,” Remus says dryly, too amused for Sirius’ comfort. “At least now we’re not on the brunt of it…hopefully.”

Sirius huffs—half a laugh, half a sound of despair. The pout returns, petulant and persistent. But he stays pressed into Remus’ side, arms looped loosely around his waist like an anchor. He lets himself be held. Lets the silence bloom around them for a beat too long.

“It’s not like she’s staying for very long anyway,” Remus says, careful and diplomatic, which is always a bad sign.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Why is she even coming?”

“No clue,” Remus answers, like the question doesn’t interest him at all. “Ask your brother.”

Sirius scoffs, a tight feeling that he knows is unneeded burying itself in his chest. It refuses to let him go. “Maybe you should.”

There’s a pause. Just a hair too long.

“You two certainly were chummy,” Sirius adds, shooting Remus a side-eyed glare that isn’t nearly as casual as he wants it to be. Perhaps he wants to ensure Remus knows what he is getting at, as ridiculous as that is.

Remus turns to him, scandalized in the best way. Sirius has to find every bit of self control within him not to marvel at the face of his boyfriend. “Merlin, you werejealous!”

His laughter is low and unrepentant, warm against Sirius’ already flushed face. Sirius scowls harder, lips tightening, but Remus doesn’t let him get away with it. He cups his face between both hands like Sirius is something precious, like he’s allowed to touch the fragile bits, and presses a kiss right to the center of the pout.

It’s ridiculous, really, how quickly Sirius softens.

The tension starts to melt from his shoulders, and for a moment, a single suspended breath of time, it’s easy to forget the rest of it. The house. The fireplace. Narcissa. Regulus. Remus kisses him again, slower this time, and Sirius lets it happen. Sinks into it, as if this touch is a temporary shield against the world and all its impossible, inherited messes. They smile into it, pressing even closer together.

And just like that—of course—the moment shatters.

The fire flares green. The atmosphere shifts. Remus narrows his eyes.

Sirius doesn’t need to turn around to know she’s there. He feels it. Like pressure in the room has changed. Like the walls have drawn themselves straighter in preparation for her inevitable judgment.

He opens his eyes. Breathes once, steady and shallow.

Narcissa has entered the flat.

She scrunches up her perfect nose the moment she arrives, like the very air offends her. It probably does. Her gaze lands on Sirius with sharp precision—daggers disguised as disdain. “Lovely,” she says, dripping with all the derision a single word can possibly carry.

Sirius opens his mouth, retort poised on the tip of his tongue like a blade, something reckless and probably petty but before he can speak, a hand rests on his shoulder. Warm. Grounding. Remus.

Sirius bites his tongue.

For now at least.

“We have the portkey already set up,” Remus says, calm and pleasant, like they’re hosting a tea party instead of bracing for some awful family reunion.

Narcissa turns her scowl on him instead, which Sirius resents on principle. Remus did not ask to be involved with the Black family. Just because he chose to be with Sirius does not mean he is owed an equal amount of hatred. If Sirius could help it, Remus would not suffer from any type of hatred whatsoever. But the world is cruel, and no one can change that no matter how hard they attempt to.

Her nose wrinkles even more, a marvel of refined disgust. Sirius watches it with a certain grim fascination. She’s always had the gift of judgment without words. It used to terrify him when he was younger. Now it just exhausts him. Although he supposes he would feel the same with any member of his family now. Even Regulus is exhausting. Frustrating as well.

Now that he thinks about it more, mostly frustrating.

“Regulus charmed it himself,” Remus adds.

The shift is immediate.

Narcissa straightens, smoothing the front of her robes like it hadn’t happened, like she hadn’t just been seconds away from calling the portkey unfit for use. “Alright then,” she says, the tension vanishing from her voice like a magician’s trick.

Sirius hates that. Hates how quickly she gives Regulus the benefit of the doubt. How easily the family name still parts the seas for him. Because even as the heir, Sirius never got that. It was always sneers and rude comments that they assumed he never would hear. But he did. Regulus was always the perfect one, loved by the family, and not nearly as loud.

Before the falling out, Sirius knows he had resentment toward his little brother. Which is strange, because when Regulus was a baby, he loved him. But time crafts wounds that can never be fixed. Gashes in the skin, too deep to be mended without the utmost care.

They gather around the portkey—an unassuming quill that sits atop a stack of Remus’ spell journals, looking so mundane it feels like a joke. Sirius glares at it, because he knows it’s going to hurt. They always do. He’s not built for this kind of travel—too much instinct, not enough control. A lifetime of running doesn’t make the pull any easier. A lifetime of filling roles he was not fit for does not make it better.

He doesn’t look at Narcissa. Doesn’t give her the satisfaction of another glance. Instead, he catches Remus’ eye, a flicker of silent understanding between them.

Be cool, Remus seems to say.

Fuck off, Sirius answers back without words.

“One,” Remus says, voice steady.

“Two,” Sirius echoes, knuckles from his other hand whitening from him tightening it.

“…Three,” Narcissa adds with a long-suffering sigh, rolling her eyes like the very act of syncing her count with theirs is beneath her.

And then the world lurches.

Sirius hates portkeys. Always has. The tug behind his navel feels like being yanked out of his own skin, like he’s being unraveled by invisible strings and stitched back together somewhere else, a little wrong each time. No, he much prefers Apparating. However, he doubts Narcissa would want him touching her and he would prefer not doing so either.

The flat vanishes, sucked into the distance.

When the world slams back into place, they’re standing in the entry hall of Potter Manor.

Polished floors. Warm lighting. The smell of chocolate hanging in the air. Sirius stumbles a step—he always does—and grits his teeth against the nausea curling low in his gut. Narcissa lands like a feather. Of course she does.

Sirius glances sideways, just to make sure Remus is still next to him. He is. He always is.

But it doesn’t make the knot in Sirius’ stomach any looser.

Not here.

Not yet.

Across from him, Narcissa inhales deeply and closes her eyes like she’s standing in a sacred cathedral.

“I do love the smell of new books,” she says, her voice oddly soft—wistful, almost. Reverent. But it's confusing. Potter Manor is regularly full of many smells—spices, perfumes, even remnants of some potions. However the smell of new books is not one of these smells. Not at the moment

Sirius frowns at her. “It doesn’t smell like books.”

She blinks at him, clearly startled by his interruption. “Yes it does.”

Sirius scrunches his nose harder. “It smells like chocolate…coffee as well perhaps. But not books.”

There’s a beat of silence—hanging, humming—and then her expression changes. Not dramatically. Just enough. Her lips twitch, and then she breathes out something between a scoff and a delighted sigh.

“Oh,” she says, and there’s a glint of amusement in her eyes now, sharp and sly. “Oh.”

She laughs—quiet and brittle and far too knowing. Sirius tenses on instinct. It is shocking to him that every member of the Black family seems to have a biological ability to laugh in the most unsettling ways. He much prefers the mask that they put on, that way the members of his family feel far less unnatural.

“What kind of dark magic was Regulus doing,” she muses aloud, clearly enjoying herself now, “if the great Fleamont Potter is cleansing the air with Amortentia?”

Sirius freezes.

The air, he realizes, is sweet. Not cloying—subtle. Familiar in a way he hadn’t thought to question. There’s the warmth of chocolate, yes, but also old parchment and forest wind and something vaguely spiced, like cinnamon or cardamom. And coffee—black, just like how Remus drinks it in the morning. He hadn’t noticed it when they arrived—too caught in his head, too preoccupied by Narcissa’s sneer—but now it’s undeniable. The varying scents curl at the back of his throat, intimate and impossible to miss.

He glares at her. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

But she isn't. It is common knowledge that after brewing a dangerous potion, brewing Amortenia can clear the air. It does not completely rid it of the dark magic of course, but at least it lessens. And that is just what Potter Manor needs at this point.

“I’m not,” Narcissa says seriously, though the exaggerated roll of her eyes undoes any chance of sincerity. “I’m just curious to know what your brother was doing…we were so worried when Evan said he might’ve died.”

Sirius snorts. It bursts out before he can stop it—sharp, derisive, almost a bark. “Right. Sure you were.”

Narcissa’s grin only widens. All the charm of a prim highborn, all the bite of a viper. “I mean, we were more curious where the fort—”

“Cissa…”

The name lands like a spell.

Sirius turns.

Regulus is there.

Not stepping in from another room or making a show of arrival. He’s just there, standing in the mouth of the hallway like he’s been listening for hours. Backlit by the golden light of Potter Manor, arms crossed, spine straight, face unreadable. That perfect Black posture. That awful, practiced calm. His eyes are dark, lacking any sort of light.

Narcissa’s reaction is instant—delighted and indulgent. “Regulus!” she exclaims, stepping forward with arms outstretched, all velvet cousinly warmth and sparkling teeth.

Regulus doesn’t move to meet her. Doesn’t offer so much as a nod. He steps sideways with effortless grace, letting her gesture fall awkwardly between them like a curtain dropped too early. The look she gives him is mock-wounded. His eyes narrow, silent accusations filling the silence.

“I suppose Kreacher already told you?” she asks, trying to recover. Quick, calculated, meant to disarm.

Sirius tenses. He catches the name like a snag in fabric. His brother always had an odd relationship with that house elf. Always oddly close to him despite the clear power dynamics in place.

What did Kreacher tell him?

Regulus glances at Sirius just briefly—eyes flickering with something unreadable—and then back to Narcissa. His tone is cool. Detached. “About Father being dead, or about you being pregnant?”

The words land like a slap.

Sirius blinks.

The room doesn’t tilt. The floor doesn’t vanish beneath him. There is no moment of great cosmic shift.

Just silence.

Just…that.

He waits for something. Anything. A surge of fury. A twist of grief. The sick thrill of victory. But the feeling doesn’t come. Instead, he feels like the words have simply been dropped into his chest and sunk—heavy, useless, too dense to lift.

His father is dead.

Orion Black is dead.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

Narcissa sighs dramatically, hand brushing her hair off her shoulder like Regulus had insulted her wardrobe. “Honestly, Reggie. You’re dreadful at surprises.”

“And you’re dreadful at secrets,” Regulus replies, voice devoid of bite. He’s not smiling. Not smirking. His face is still—carefully still—and Sirius knows that look. Knows it because he’s worn it himself. It’s the expression of someone too tired to be angry, too familiar with pain to make it theatrical.

Sirius swallows, his throat suddenly tight.

He wants to feel something. Anything. His father is dead. That should mean something. But all it does is echo, hollow and thin, like shouting into an abandoned house. Years of wishing…praying to some faceless entity that his parents would one day leave this earthly plane fall flat. He just does not know how to feel.

He stares at Regulus.

His brother.

Still standing like nothing matters.

Still too calm.

“When?” Sirius asks, voice rough.

Regulus meets his gaze fully now. There’s no defiance in it. No smugness. Just something distant. Something ancient. “Last night.”

Sirius nods once, slow and mechanical, like his body is working on instinct alone. “And they didn't tell us?”

“I doubt anyone knows really,” Regulus says, gaze steady. “Except Kreacher. And only him because he found the body…and the Malfoys, but that's because mother asked for your help, right?” A nod from Narcissa.

But the sentence before lands harder than the rest. Found the body.

Sirius flinches like someone’s hit him.

He imagines it without wanting to: the house quiet, the air heavy with something rotten, Kreacher’s wrinkled hand pushing open a door that hadn’t been touched in days. The room. The silence. His father.

Orion.

The man who tried to beat the softness out of Sirius. The man who carved disappointment into every meal and milestone. The man who taught him what hatred sounded like before he ever learned love. The man who was always on death’s door, yet death refused to reap him. That man is gone.

Sirius doesn’t know how to mourn him.

He drags a hand through his hair, pressing his fingers into his scalp like he can claw the confusion out. “What happened?”

Regulus exhales slowly. “He took something he shouldn’t have.”

Sirius blinks. “A potion?”

“A poison,” Regulus corrects, voice flat, yet there is a small glimmer that immediately disappears. “One of mine.”

A pause stretches too long.

Narcissa raises an eyebrow. “Well. That’s one way to clean house.”

“Narcissa,” Regulus warns, sharper this time. But his voice still doesn’t rise. It never does. That absolutely infuriates Sirius sometimes. Regulus wields words like scalpels—not for show, but for precision.

Sirius looks at him again, and this time, he sees it: the cracks.

Beneath the chill. Beneath the posture. Beneath the neutral expression. There’s something unspooling at the edges of Regulus’ calm. Guilt, maybe. Or grief. Or a kind of horror he hasn’t allowed himself to name. But not indifference.

Sirius steps back.

The air in Potter Manor feels too clean. Too warm. Coffee and chocolate masking the scent of ghosts. It feels almost stifling.

He wants to scream. He wants to sit down. He wants to go back in time and tell the boy he used to be that this is how it ends: with nothing. With silence. With his brother standing in front of him, saying the word “dead” like it’s just another errand.

“Was it on purpose?” Sirius asks suddenly.

Regulus stiffens. “That doesn't matter.”

Sirius watches him, looking for lies that have not been said. For tells of his brother’s true intentions. For that old familiar smirk. He finds nothing but exhaustion.

And for the first time in years, Sirius doesn’t know if he pities Regulus or himself more.

“Well, you have things to think about, don’t you?” Narcissa muses, voice feather-light as if they’re discussing fashion or tea blends, not death and legacy.

Regulus raises a brow in response, slow and deliberate. It’s not a challenge so much as a quiet dare—Go on, it says. Say what you mean, Narcissa.

She does, of course. Always does. She has never had that problem. “After all, if the wizarding world believes you to be dead, what will happen to your fortune?”

Sirius frowns. The question lands strangely. Tactless, even for her. Perhaps a bit too forward.

He folds his arms, brow knitting. “Mother will keep it. I don’t see why you’re worried about that now.”

Narcissa turns toward him like she’s spotted something interesting at the bottom of a crystal glass. Her lips twitch into a tight, amused smile. “It’s not hers to keep,” she says, each word clipped and deliberate like she’s pressing pins into a map. “It was the Black family fortune. She doesn’t get to just inherit that. Orion didn’t leave it to her, and she’s not a Black by blood. Not in the way that matters anyhow.”

Sirius wants to argue, but the words don’t come.

Regulus, still silent, watches her with that same unreadable expression—lips slightly parted like he’s halfway to protest, but something's holding him back.

Narcissa tilts her head, voice lower now, almost gentle. Almost. Because she, like Regulus, has been trained and shaped by Black family values. And she, like Regulus, knows just how much lying can get you ahead. “And with Regulus hiding and you, dear cousin, being disowned…” she shrugs. “I’m afraid the families are going to get a lot more hostile.”

The word families stretches longer than necessary. It echoes with too much meaning. Not just the Black family. The Families. The remaining groups of the original Purebloods. Most of the families have died out, or at least gotten significantly smaller. Or perhaps the Pureblood ideologies have died out throughout the generations. But they are still there. The web of ancient names and iron-clad alliances. The old money. The quiet wars. The poison-laced tea parties.

Sirius shifts on his feet, something cold settling behind his ribs. “So that’s what this is about. Just inheritance.”

Narcissa doesn’t flinch. “Don’t be naïve, Sirius. You may have run from it, but the rest of us are still living in the family you tried to burn down.”

Regulus finally speaks, voice quiet but firm. “It’s not her decision where the money goes.”

Narcissa looks at him, surprised. “No, it’s not. But that doesn’t mean she won’t try to make it hers. After all, her second heir is dead.”

The silence that follows is heavy—too heavy for such a pretty room, too sharp against the warm scent of chocolate and spices and love potions in the air. It presses in, suffocating. For the first time, Sirius finds Potter Manor suffocating.

What a horrible thought.

Sirius looks between them.

His brother, who looks like he hasn’t slept in days, standing with the weight of their bloodline still draped over his shoulders. Regulus looks like he is frail beneath it all, the weight of the world too much for his shoulders. Which would serve him right. Years of allowing his hands to be bound as others acted for him do not just disappear. Years of complicity cannot be thrown away by a few semi-decent actions.

His cousin, still perfect, still poised, spinning the world with a few sharp sentences. Perfectly manicured hands tapping her forearms as she takes in the scene in front of her. Eyes narrowing as she calculates her next move. This is the Black family way, so Sirius should expect it.

Yet it still kills him inside.

And Sirius himself, a ghost among them. Fully disowned. Not mourning. Just floating. His head feels as if clouds, as if he is not even present in the room. Merely a spectator. A spectre who does not belong.

Sirius drags a hand over his face and mutters, “I need a fucking drink.”

Regulus doesn’t look at him, but his posture eases just slightly, like the comment is familiar. Like it means something. Sirius sends a look to Remus, an apology of some sort for leaving him with these two. Yet Remus only gives him the most understanding glance Sirius has ever seen. Merlin, he loves this man.

And Narcissa, of course, just smiles.

Sirius mutters something sharp under his breath and peels away from the conversation, the tension clinging to him like static. He makes his way down the hall, fast and aimless, the echo of polished floors beneath his boots. He will make sure to apologize to Euphemia later. His hands shake, just slightly, like they haven’t gotten the message that it’s over now—there’s no duel, no shouting match, no funeral…yet. Just Narcissa, still playing politics with a smile. Just like they were all trained to do.

Sirius cannot fault her for it. For a woman in the Black family, she plays her role perfectly. Even if she no longer shares the name it haunts her like a ghost. Like how it haunts all of them. It is a shadow that you are born with. Always watching. Always there. Always standing with a blade resting at their throats.

He ducks into the small lounge off the east corridor—he remembers it from summers spent here, when James had just learned to fly and everything still felt uncomplicated. The short time he has spent living with Remus has shaped him, the years prior sometimes seeming like they are a distant memory. There’s a cabinet in the corner. He finds the firewhisky easily.

Glass in hand, he doesn’t even make it halfway through the first sip before he hears footsteps. Two sets. Familiar. Warm.

“Thought we’d find you here,” James says, leaning casually against the doorway. His smile is soft, but his eyes—always sharper than Sirius gives him credit for—are watching carefully.

Lily steps up beside him, her hand curled around James’ wrist like she’s the one anchoring him now. “How bad was it?”

Sirius snorts. “Well, I didn’t hex her, so I guess we’re calling it a good meeting.”

“You alright?” James asks.

“No.”

A beat.

No one argues with him.

“My dad’s dead.”

Another beat.

“Are we supposed to offer condolences or congratulations?” Lily asks, face unreadable for Sirius. She has always been like that. At one point it infuriated Sirius. Now it confuses him. How is it that James—his best friend, the one he knows everything about—can tell exactly what that girl is thinking is beyond him.

Perhaps it is love, Sirius is not sure.

James nudges Lily, causing her to lightly smack his arm in response. “It’s a valid question!” she shouts out.

It causes Sirius to smile. And then laugh. A good, genuine laugh that hurts his chest while he does so. He almost drops his drink. “I’m not sure yet.”

They don't question his words and for that Sirius is grateful. Because that is just how James and Lily are. They are good people to their core. It is why Sirius wishes he could just keep them to himself. Especially James.

Sirius runs a hand through his hair, taking a sip from his drink. “They’re still talking, and I’m in here…” he says, laughing at himself.

“You left Regulus with her?”

Sirius raises a brow at James’ tone but shrugs it off nonetheless. “Remus is there.” Oh Merlin, Sirius left Remus with her…with them. That is not good. The look that Lily and James share, eyes having a silent conversation with each other, makeing complete sense to them but keeping Sirius in the dark.

They're worried about Remus too as well.

“Come back,” Lily says gently, yet a bit quicker than Sirius expects. “We’ll run interference.”

Sirius nods, even though he doesn’t want to. He tips his head backward, the glass cold against his lips. The drink burns going down. He finishes it anyway.

They return to the original room as a trio—more united than Sirius feels. Regulus has stepped slightly forward, tense like as ever. Narcissa hasn’t moved. Remus has found himself in the corner, staying far away from the silent enemies. Ensuring the daggers they throw in their gazes do not stray and hit him instead. Narcissa’s expression shifts the moment they enter.

“Potter!” she says, her grin wide and bright like stained glass. “How lovely to see you.”

And then, with a flick of her eyes to Lily, the smile collapses. Her voice cools by degrees. “Evans��or do you prefer Potter as well? I heard the news. Congratulations, I suppose.”

It’s venom wrapped in fake smiles.

Lily stands taller, but Sirius sees her fingers flex, just once, against James' arm. Before she can answer, Regulus steps forward. Sirius finds himself shocked for a moment, the sight of Regulus with light behind his eyes a never before seen sight.

“Don’t talk to her…better yet, don’t talk to either of them.”

His voice is sharp. Flat. And his hand—Sirius notices it—twitches at his side like he's fighting the urge to scratch at his arm. In any other instance, perhaps he would feel nostalgic. Regulus has always had that little habit.�� At first it was small, an occasional tick. Then it grew in frequency. Now Sirius has no idea how often Regulus does this.

“You’re here to talk to me, not them.”

Narcissa places a manicured hand to her chest, aghast in the most theatrical way possible. “You think I would say something cruel? Honestly, Regulus. I’m merely congratulating her. The Potter name is an old one. She should be proud of herself.”

“I didn’t say yes because of his name,” Lily says. Her voice is quiet but resolute.

“Of course you didn’t,” James adds, matching her tone, and he laces his fingers through hers like a vow.

Regulus’ hand stops twitching. He glances at James and Lily for a moment before going back to Narcissa.

Narcissa’s gaze lingers, sharp and unreadable, before she gives the faintest shrug—if you say so—and turns her attention back to Regulus, dismissing Lily as neatly as one closes a book. As casually as brushing off a fly.

“Right…” she drawls, smile sharpening. “Back to business.”

Sirius watches it all unfold, heart thudding behind his ribs.

He wonders if Regulus notices how close James and Lily stand now. If he notices the way James tightens his grip around her fingers, like he’s bracing for something. If it hurts.

And then, because he knows his brother too well, Sirius glances at Regulus' face—and sees it.

Just for a second.

That flicker of something soft and unwanted behind his eyes.

And then it’s gone.

The light is flickering, dimming gradually. The conversation slowly killing him.

Sirius lets out a breath. After all these years, he still knows exactly how Regulus works.

Narcissa glances at Lily one last time like she might say something more—another knife hidden under her smiles—and she does.

“Why did you invite me over to your…” Her eyes sweep the room like she’s resisting the urge to conjure a handkerchief. “Lovely new home?”

Her voice drips with derision, but Regulus doesn’t rise to it. His face stays cold, distant. Calculated. The perfect Black heir.

“You-Know-Who gave your family something.”

The temperature in the room drops. Sirius doesn’t know how, but it does. The pressure shifts like the house itself is listening now.

Narcissa straightens, lips parting just barely. Her eyes flash. A brief panic that even the best actress would never be able to bury. “Who told you that?”

“I have my sources.”

There’s something about the way Regulus says it—too calm, too easy—that makes Sirius’ skin crawl. The entire situation makes his skin crawl. If he actually knew what was going on perhaps it would be better—easier. But he simply is clueless.

Sirius hates it.

He glances between them, lost but alert now, as though he’s only just realized they’re playing a game and the pieces have already moved.

“What are you talking about?” Sirius asks, but neither of them answers him. It infuriates him.

Regulus takes a step closer to Narcissa. He speaks softly, but the edge in his voice cuts through the room like glass.

“Narcissa. I know you don’t like it.”

“The Dark Lord—”

“It’s dark magic, Narcissa,” Regulus interrupts, words wrapped in mockery. “Say it. You know it is.”

She narrows her eyes. “He trusted—”

“Do you want your child exposed to that?” Regulus asks.

And that—that—is what finally stills her tongue.

He tilts his head, studying her, expression unreadable but unflinching. “Do you think he’s going to stop with Muggle-borns?” His gaze flicks to Lily for a moment before going back to Narcissa.

Lily doesn’t speak, but Sirius can feel her standing tall beside James, her fingers curled lightly around his hand. There’s a tension to her, quiet but unmistakable, like a storm banked just beneath the skin. She’s not scared nor angry—no, she’s watching. Listening. And Sirius realizes with a flicker of awe that she understands more than he does.

She’s putting it together, connecting dots between names and histories and warnings, her mouth a thin line of restraint. And she looks at Regulus—not with pity, but recognition.

Sirius stares, heart hammering with pure confusion.

Regulus lets out a humorless laugh and begins to pace, just a step, just enough. “He cursed Salazar Slytherin’s locket, Cissa. You know that, don’t you? I made sure Kreacher told you. That’s not blood politics. That’s not purity.” His nose scrunches with exaggerated disgust, and Sirius suddenly recognizes the movement—it’s performance. Deliberate.

James is bristling. Not in the loud, theatrical way Sirius might’ve expected, but in a way that is all quiet heat. His posture’s too stiff, and his grip on Lily’s hand has gone just a little too tight, like he’s using it to keep himself grounded. Sirius can tell he wants to speak—maybe say something snide or biting in return—but he doesn’t. Quick glances from both Lily and Regulus ensure that is the case.

His eyes, though—they’re fixed on Regulus with something close to surprise. Like he didn’t expect the youngest Black to be capable of saying any of this aloud.

“This war isn’t going to stop, Narcissa. It’s not about Muggleborns anymore. It’s not about loyalty. It’s not even about power—it’s about destruction. About control, over society and every other wizard who dares challenge him.”

His eyes flick to Sirius, mouth tight and Sirius flinches—not because of the stare, but because for the first time, he realizes Regulus is afraid.

Afraid, and somehow still standing.

And it fills him with a sense of pride.

Remus is like a stone at Sirius’ side. Not unmoved, just immovable. His arms are folded, one foot propped against the baseboard, body half turned like he’s ready to step in if needed. He hasn’t said a word since Narcissa entered the manor, but Sirius can feel the current of him like gravity. Remus’ gaze isn’t on Regulus. It’s on Narcissa. Steady. Unforgiving. Calculated. And Sirius leans toward him, like instinct, like orbit, like home.

Narcissa folds her arms, jaw clenched tight. “You think you understand what he wants?”

“I understand more than you do,” Regulus hisses. “I saw what it did. What it was. I destroyed it myself. He defiled a pure-blood artifact. That is spitting in the faces of the majority of his supporters.”

Sirius blinks, feeling like the floor is slipping out from under him. He wants to ask what are you talking about, again, but he can’t find his voice.

“Everything that man touches is cursed” Regulus presses, softer now. “I had to brew Vipera Mortalis just to destroy it.”

Narcissa says nothing.

“Do you really think that kind of magic comes with a reward? For anyone? That he will not one day turn on you all?”

She falters, just slightly, her gaze drifting down to her hands as if she can already feel the future slipping through her fingers. That there is writing on the walls, and the words were never in her favor.

And Sirius watches it all, breath shallow, trying to piece together the picture forming around him.

His brother isn’t broken. Not entirely. He’s haunted, maybe. Dangerous, definitely. But more than that—Regulus is perfect. He knows just what to say. But it is because of the house they were raised in. The legacy they inherited like a noose.

And Regulus’ neck is already starting to bruise.

But Narcissa grins, her gaze cold and calculating, mirroring Regulus’ far too well. “They let you brew a potion?” Her eyes flick to Sirius with a curl of amusement. “How reckless can you be?”

Sirius furrows his brow, something tightening in his chest. Remus gives his hand a soft squeeze in an attempt to calm him, but it doesn’t work. Not when her tone is so sharp behind that honeyed mockery. Not when she’s looking at him like he failed.

“He’s a grown adult,” Sirius snaps, jaw clenching. “If he wants to brew that, he’s allowed to.”

“But after he tried to off himself with one?” Narcissa says, all innocent cruelty. Her gaze lands fully on Sirius now. She clicks her tongue once, slowly. “Reckless.”

The words hit like a blow. Not a scream, not an explosion—just a cold knife between ribs. Quiet and clean. Sirius does not know how to react. On one hand, he had been saying for years that he wishes that he didn't even have a brother. But the thought of Regulus actually dying…it reminds him of the night Regulus came back from almost drowning.

And Sirius does not want to relive that.

“He did what?” James asks, his voice cracking.

Sirius sees the exact moment the mood shifts—James’ spine goes rigid, Lily’s lips part in a silent inhale, and even Remus, usually the most composed of all of them, straightens with a sharp, assessing look at Regulus.

Regulus doesn’t meet anyone’s gaze. His hands twitch. His jaw moves like he might speak, but nothing comes out. His hand moves to his left arm, faltering once met with pristine white bandages. He drops his hand.

“Regulus—” James starts again, softer now, like he’s approaching something cornered and bleeding.

“Did he not tell you?” Narcissa says, humming to herself like she’s merely observing something interesting, not detonating a secret as if it were a bomb. “Shocking.”

Regulus' hand trembles once, then clenches into a fist. “That wasn’t yours to tell.”

“How was I supposed to know you didn’t tell them?” Narcissa asks, feigning confusion, narrowing her eyes in mock innocence. “I’m just expressing concern for my dear cousin…after all, we used to be so close…”

Sirius watches his brother unravel. Not visibly. Not in any dramatic, obvious way. But in the way his breathing stutters. In the hollow beneath his eyes that seems to deepen. In the twitch of his lip before he reins it back in. In the way his eyes have lost their light.

“You…” Regulus trails off, swallows. He draws in a slow breath, attempting—failing—to gain control over the situation again. “I just want whatever he gave you two…just…please Cissa.”

Narcissa rolls her eyes but obliges, pulling out a small black journal from inside her robes with a flourish. She drops it into Regulus’ hands like it weighs nothing, like it means nothing. It only confuses Sirius more but he ignores it due to every revelation that has happened in the last ten minutes. “It made the house cold anyways.”

Regulus holds it like it’s hot to the touch. Like it might burn through his skin if he’s not careful. He strains his voice, looking back at the woman coldly. “Thank you.”

“If this backfires and gets my husband killed,” Narcissa says, her voice dropping to something razor-sharp and solemn, “I will find you.” Her eyes scan the room, landing on each of them one by one. “If anyone in my family is harmed, you all will need to go into hiding.”

No one speaks.

The weight of her words lands with the chill of prophecy. Icy and absolute. No one doubts the truth on her tongue.

“Right, well,” Regulus clears his throat, voice thinner than usual, edges frayed. He doesn’t look at anyone directly, except—just once—at Sirius.

And Sirius swears he sees it. The crack. The sliver of something breaking open behind his brother’s eyes. Not panic. Not shame. Something older. Something worn thin over time. His resolve unraveling like an old incomplete jumper pulled too tight.

“Get her out of here,” Regulus says quietly. No anger. Just exhaustion. Finality.

Then he turns.

James steps forward instinctively, reaching out with the same impulse Sirius knows he’d use to steady someone mid-fall. “Regulus—”

But Regulus sidesteps the gesture without looking back, avoiding the contact, ensuring his exit like a man retreating from a battlefield he barely survived.

The silence he leaves in his wake is immediate and aching.

And Narcissa Malfoy just stands there, smug and still, looking like she’s won the jackpot. Like she’s cracked open a vault and found something glittering and dangerous inside.

She doesn’t gloat aloud—she doesn’t have to. It’s in the tilt of her chin, the slight smile tugging at the corners of her painted mouth. It's in the way she watches them all flounder in the aftermath of the storm she summoned, basking in the chaos as if it’s perfume she’s always worn.

Sirius doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Remus touches his arm again. Not a squeeze this time. Just a grounding touch. A reminder that he’s here. That Regulus is still here. That the next move isn’t Narcissa’s—it’s theirs.

But oh…Sirius does not know how they are supposed to continue on.

✧˚ · .

“And he’s diving—oh, tough luck. Regulus Black drops to the ground harder than an overdue charms paper…sorry, Professor.”

Sirius hovered high above the pitch, the wind biting at his cheeks, his fingers still tightly gripping his broomstick. His focus was distant—a little too distant. The final match of the year had already stretched past the hour mark, a brutal battle between Gryffindor and Slytherin. He had barely registered the noise of the crowd, their voices muffled by the dizzying heights, by the whirlwind of memories tugging at him.

And then it happened.

Due to the words of Longbottom, he finally looked down. There, far below him, amidst the scattered players and the blurred movement of the game, he saw it. Regulus.

His little brother, sprawled out on the grass, crumpled in a way that made Sirius' heart skip in his chest. The scene was almost too familiar, a flash of an old memory where Regulus had been smaller—still that boy hiding under his bed during storms. A boy he used to cradle in his arms, brush the hair from his forehead and tell him everything would be okay.

For a moment, everything went still.

Sirius forgot how to breathe. His mind went empty, and the cold wind that whipped through his hair became a muffled hum in his ears. Regulus wasn’t moving. His broom was abandoned nearby, tossed carelessly aside, forgotten.

Sirius leaned forward, instinctively pulling the broom handle tighter, pushing himself down. He didn’t even know why he moved, not at first. But then it hit him.

That was Regulus.

His brother.

The one he’d fought with. The one he’d spent years protecting and resenting all at once. The one who used to stare at him with adoration, who once clung to him with the desperation of a child in the dark. The one who refused to go with him when Sirius had to leave. His traitor. His little brother.

But now, it was just the body of his brother—or it seemed to be—crumpled on the ground, and Sirius’ heart hammered against his ribs.

The crowd below seemed to hold its breath. Even from this height, Sirius could feel the sudden stillness in the air, the anticipation shifting like a cold wave, and then—

Regulus stirred.

Slowly, stiffly, like he was waking from some strange trance. His hand moved, shaky, and then—Sirius saw it. He raised his fist, glittering gold enclosed in his fist. The Golden Snitch.

Regulus had caught it.

The silence broke open like a crack in the sky, shattering the tension. The commentator’s voice faltered, too shocked to hold its usual cheer.

“Regulus Black has caught the Snitch! Slytherin wins!”

The roar from the Slytherin stands was deafening. It felt like the earth itself shook beneath Sirius’ feet. A cascade of green and silver banners erupted around the pitch as Slytherin’s players descended on Regulus, lifting him into the air as if he was the one who had done something impossible.

Sirius watched, frozen, the heaviness settling in his chest like something dense and suffocating. This was it. The Quidditch Cup—their cup, the one he and James had dreamed of winning yet again, and yet…

It wasn’t theirs anymore.

It was Regulus' now.

Regulus—his little brother—had just secured victory for Slytherin.

Sirius couldn’t feel the elation that normally accompanied the finishing of a match. He didn’t feel the usual thrill of competition. Instead, a bitter, gnawing feeling spread through him. His own team, his own house, had failed to capture the Cup in his final year. Their last chance to win together had slipped right through his fingers.

But it wasn’t just that.

Something else felt broken. Something old and familiar—a thread pulled taut, a tether snapping between them.

“Crouch, you’re not supposed to be on the field! You’re banned you—” Dorcas Meadowes’ voice cut through the noise from the sidelines, shrill and futile.

But it didn’t matter.

Barty Crouch Jr. was already sprinting across the grass, moving with reckless abandon, like the rest of the world had stopped, leaving just him and Regulus at the center of it all. His dark eyes gleamed with an almost manic joy. There was no hesitation in his steps. He reached Regulus, pulling him into his arms with an urgency that felt almost predatory. And then, without even the smallest pause, he kissed him.

Right there, in the middle of the pitch.

Sirius flinched.

He turned his head away sharply, his stomach lurching, and something in him twisted. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much. He couldn’t place it. It wasn’t disgust—not exactly. And it wasn’t hatred.

It was something else. Something far more complicated.

He didn’t want to watch. Didn’t want to see his brother kissed—publicly—by him. By Barty Crouch, the one person Sirius would never have allowed near him, not if he'd had a choice. But even then, that was his brother. He still saw Regulus as a child. So how can a child be kissed?

But the feeling—whatever it was—seemed to lodge itself deep in his chest, and it wouldn’t let go.

It wasn’t just about Regulus being kissed. It was about everything.

Regulus hadn’t even looked up. He hadn’t scanned the crowd. Hadn't checked the sky for his brother. Regulus didn’t look around to see if anyone else saw. He just stood there, arms wrapped around Crouch, like the whole world could vanish and he wouldn’t care.

Something in Sirius snapped.

Maybe it was possessiveness. Or maybe it was protectiveness. That raw, frantic need to shove Barty away, to pull Regulus back into the fold of family, of safety, of something Sirius could still recognize.

But whatever it was, it burned in his gut.

Sirius turned away, as if that would make it go away. As if pretending it didn’t matter would fix it.

But it did matter.

And the ache in his chest only deepened.

The players hit the ground. The game was over. The applause began to die down, the noise retreating into the distance.

But Sirius didn’t feel relief. He didn’t feel victory. Not the way he should have.

Not until he found himself standing face-to-face with Regulus.

It was strange, how no one noticed the moment. The Slytherins who had rushed the field were still cheering, still chanting Regulus’ name like it was some kind of victory hymn. The rest of the players were all clapping each other on the back, shaking hands like it was all routine. But for a second, everything stopped.

It was just him and Regulus.

The boy who had been his brother. The boy who had once clung to his side. Who once had looked up at him with adoration. Regulus stood there, flushed from the match, his lips swollen from the kiss. His eyes were distant, hard to read. His hands twitched at his sides, like he was about to reach for something—anything—but couldn’t decide what to do with them.

Sirius felt his chest tighten.

“Must be happy with yourself,” he muttered, the words coming out harsher than he intended. Or perhaps he fully intended them. He didn't know himself.

Regulus just smiled. A little too calm. A little too distant. But it was like a light had sparked in his brother’s eyes. Hope. “I am.”

Sirius nodded, his jaw tight. “Good.”

A flicker of something passed over Regulus' face—surprise, maybe. Maybe even disappointment. Maybe a few choice words. But it was gone before Sirius could register it.

“Hopefully no one lets it slip to dear Mum and Dad that you got snogged on the pitch,” Sirius added bitterly. He didn’t even know why he said it. Maybe to hurt him. Maybe to stop himself from feeling anything else. Maybe to simply be jealous as being attracted to men was the exact reason why he was kicked outI'm the first place. “Might kill the mood.”

Regulus blinked, his expression faltering for just a moment. His hands curled into fists at his sides, but then, as if he had steeled himself, the moment was gone. Regulus straightened, his gaze hardening. The spark had vanished as if it were never there.

“Lovely talking to you, Sirius.”

“I’m sure.”

Sirius turned sharply and walked away, his shoulders stiff, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t look back.

Because why should he? Why should he care about someone who had made it clear they didn’t need him anymore? Someone who was willing to let Crouch kiss him in front of everyone, who didn’t care about the crowd, or about his brother, or about anything but himself? Someone who was allowed to love whoever he chose.

A traitor in green. That’s all Regulus was now.

But even as Sirius walked away, something broke inside him. Something old and fragile cracked open and left him with the distinct feeling that nothing—nothing—would ever be the same.

He didn’t turn around. But he wanted to.

✧˚ · .

Sirius doesn’t know how the day turned into this.

It had started the way horrible news always does in his life—sharply and without ceremony. He was told the news without much of a second glance. As if it meant nothing. And perhaps it does mean nothing.

They’d sent an owl to Peter right after she left. No one had said it, but Sirius could feel the message hanging in the silence: We need you.

Peter came bearing bottles. Dark, warming liquor. Something that would burn going down and sit like stone in their stomachs. It felt like the right thing to do. A toast. A gesture. A way to make the air feel less heavy. And for a time, it worked like that—somber, steady, respectful.

But something shifted.

He couldn’t pinpoint when, exactly—maybe after the third round, maybe when someone made the first joke—but the stillness cracked and spilled into something else. Laughter, first quiet, then louder. James flung an arm around Remus and nearly toppled them both into the couch. Peter poured another drink with a crooked grin and a flushed face. Even Remus—who was incredibly exhausted—let himself smile without restraint.

Sirius sat in the middle of it all, a hand wrapped around his glass, watching it unfold like a dream he couldn’t wake from.

His father is dead.

But the air is alive. Warm. Buzzing with the kind of ease that comes only when the people you love are close enough to touch.

Sirius likes days like this. He needs days like this. Even when they feel wrong. Even when the laughter has that strange, hollow edge to it. Even when the guilt flares up and whispers that he shouldn’t be enjoying any of this.

He presses the glass to his lips, tilts his head back, and drinks.

His friends are here. He is not alone. And for that—

Merlin, for that—

He is grateful.

Even if the grief hasn’t quite left the room.

Even if it never will.

But grief is a funny thing. Is he truly grieving? Sirius is unsure of it himself. There is just too much history with all of this. Too many insults that cut deeper than they should have. His father was on death’s door for years. He ensured everyone knew and felt it. Yet it still settles over Sirius’ heart like a shadow.

Peter’s voice cuts through the warmth and laughter like a flicked wand. “Where’s your brother?”

It’s said casually, almost like an afterthought, but it lands heavy in the center of Sirius’ chest.

He groans, slumping further into Remus, whose shoulder he’s been leaning on for the better part of thirty minutes now. Remus doesn’t flinch. He just hums softly, a quiet little sound of acknowledgment, and Sirius lets himself go pliant against him.

“Does it matter?” Sirius mutters, fingers curling tighter around his now-empty glass.

Remus shifts just enough to speak without dislodging him. It makes Sirius feel warmer than before. Safe. Happy. A little depressed, but that is to be expected on a day like this. “He lost a parent too,” Remus says, careful and deliberate.

Sirius scoffs, nose wrinkling. The word parent does not sound proper to his ears. Parent. As if Orion Black was anything more than a looming shadow with a barked command. As if the man ever tucked him in, ever praised him, ever even saw him without judgment in his eyes.

But still.

Regulus.

That perfect little heir must be feeling it. Must be sitting somewhere with his neat little world beginning to crack. Mourning in the Black family way—quiet, composed, isolated like a relic on display.

“I could always go find him,” Lily says gently, her voice threading into the quiet She’s seated on the floor now, James leaning heavily against her side, his eyelids half-lowered with alcohol and warmth.

But at her words, James lifts his head. His gaze sharpens like flint catching light. For a second, Sirius feels jealous. Why does Regulus get all of this attention? After all that he’s done, everyone should be ignoring Regulus.

Sirius pushes those ugly thoughts away about as quickly as they initially came.

“I could go,” James says quickly, almost urgently.

“No,” Sirius says, too fast, too harsh. The word cracks through the room and hangs there. Final. “No one is going to talk to my brother.”

The energy shifts. Subtle. Barely there. But Sirius feels it like a dropped stone in still water. The tension ripples, the impact point being Sirius himself.

Lily narrows her eyes, chin tilting up just slightly. “He’s most likely just as torn about this.”

“I don’t need a lecture—”

“Sirius,” Remus cuts in. Just his name. No judgment. But it lands like a hand to the chest all the same. A gentle warning. A request for restraint.

Sirius swallows back the next words, but they burn in his throat.

“No offence, mate,” James says, glancing between Sirius and Lily with a look that’s not sharp, not cruel—but definitely worn. His grimace twists like he’s tired of dancing around it. “But this whole back-and-forth about your brother’s getting a bit old.”

Lily hums her agreement, not even looking away.

He stares at them—open-mouthed, caught mid-breath. Words scramble to the front of his brain and trip on the way out. Nothing sticks.

They don’t get it.

So he turns, sharp and desperate, hoping for anything that might resemble a lifeline.

“Pete?”

Peter startles like he’d forgotten they were all still in the same room. He blinks owlishly and then shrugs—half-guilty, half-genuine. “I mean…I haven’t really been around, have I? Been busy.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Would rather not say something about stuff I’ve not properly seen.”

There’s no heat in it. Just the same kind of distance everyone seems to be slipping into tonight, like the day’s events have turned the room into fog and Sirius is the only one shouting through it.

He stares at Peter for a second too long. Then looks away.

His throat feels dry.

Traitor, Sirius thinks. But he doesn’t say it.

His last hope lies with Remus, the one who always understands, who always backs him. But Remus just sits there. Not cruel. Not distant. Just…still.

His silence speaks louder than anyone’s words.

Sirius feels his ribs tighten around something he doesn’t want to name.

“Fine…” he hisses, dragging the word out like venom from a wound.

He hates being outnumbered.

With a groan, Sirius peels himself off of Remus. His body protests the movement, but guilt is louder than muscle fatigue. He doesn’t look at anyone as he leaves. The alcohol in his system makes his movement slightly sluggish, but nothing he cannot handle.

It doesn’t take long to find him.

One of the back balconies is slightly ajar, just enough for the breeze to slip in. And there—framed by moonlight, half-shrouded in the gentle sway of sheer curtains—is Regulus Black.

He’s seated with his back against the railing, head resting against the banister like it belongs to him. His eyes are closed. The tension is gone from his shoulders, for once, and the hard lines of his face are softened by stillness.

Sirius stops short.

He expected…something else. Something brittle or sharp or cold. Something annoyingly perfect. The mask their family wears when the world goes to shit. But this?

Regulus looks peaceful.

It startles him.

For a long second, Sirius just stands there, unsure if he should move closer or turn back and pretend he didn’t see. Because if Regulus is at peace, then what is Sirius supposed to do with all this rage? With the complicated, twisting ache in his chest?

He steps out onto the balcony, anyway. Quiet as he can.

Regulus cracks one eye open at the sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t even lift his head from where it rests against the banister. Just stares, heavy-lidded and unreadable, like he’s trying to decide whether Sirius is real or another lingering ghost coming to haunt the edges of the night.

Sirius shifts his weight, leaning against the opposite end of the railing. The distance between them isn’t much. It never really has been now that Sirius thinks about it. Just years of silence and hurt and expectation pretending to be something wider.

He pulls a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. They’re slightly bent from being sat on, but he thumbs one out easily and holds the pack across the space.

Regulus takes it without a word.

Sirius fishes out the lighter—a small silver thing with chipped paint he’d bought off some bloke inside a Muggle shop last month—and flicks it open. The flame dances up, bright in the dark. He lights his own, draws in a long inhale, then gestures wordlessly toward his brother.

Regulus extends his hand forward. The cigarette glows orange between them.

They smoke.

And say nothing.

The silence settles like fog, not uncomfortable but not quite easy either. Sirius watches the glow of the ember at the end of his cigarette, and wonders if Regulus is counting seconds the same way he is.

Eventually, he clears his throat. His voice comes out rough from the smoke and whatever's lodged in the back of it.

“Dad would lose it if he saw you smoking, Reggie.”

It’s meant to be light. A tease, maybe. A hand extended out in order to test the waters. A toe dipped in the pool of familiarity they used to share. But it comes out more brittle than he means to.

Regulus doesn’t flinch though. Doesn’t even look over. He exhales slowly, smoke curling around his lips.

“Well, the arse is dead.”

It should be funny. Or cathartic. Or something.

But it just lands there between them—sharp. Flat. Final.

Sirius hums, barely audible, and drags in another breath. He doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or scream or agree.

So instead, he says nothing.

And they go on smoking.

Two sons of a dead man, side by side in the dark, unsure of what it is they’re supposed to feel. The silence stretches, but it isn’t empty. It’s thick—woven through with smoke and the weight of things unsaid. The air hums with it. Old resentments, half-formed memories, things they never learned how to name.

The smoke curls between them like a veil—thin and wavering, catching the moonlight. It blurs the sharp edges of Regulus’ profile, dulls the glow of Sirius’ cigarette. It hides them, in a way. Or maybe it just gives them permission not to look too closely.

Sirius inhales again. The cigarette glows orange at the tip, flaring in the dark. He turns his head slightly, just enough to glance at Regulus without making it obvious. His brother hasn’t moved. Still perched there like a statue—spine too straight, jaw clenched just enough to be noticeable.

Like if he shifts too suddenly, the whole illusion of peace might crack wide open.

He looks younger like this. Not soft, exactly, but smaller. Like someone who’s used to pretending control and doesn’t know what to do without it. Sirius exhales slowly through his nose, watching the smoke drift away.

“Was Narcissa telling the truth?” Sirius asks, voice low. Not accusing. Just...tired. He is simply exhausted.

Regulus doesn’t answer right away. He stills, his fingers resting lightly on the cigarete he is holding, gaze distant. Finally, with a small exhale, he says, “Yeah.”

Nothing more. Just that. Sirius wants to grasp his brother’s shoulders and shake them. Demand the boy give him answers. But that would not be right. Sirius waits a beat. Two. He nudges the next question forward like it might bite. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Regulus doesn’t even look at him. Just keeps staring straight ahead, eyes fixed on some far-off point beyond the edge of the balcony, like Sirius never even spoke. The silence that follows isn’t the calm kind—it’s tight, coiled, buzzing with something unspoken.

Sirius watches him closely, more out of habit than intent. There’s always been something unreadable about Regulus, something polished and pristine and maddening. But now, under the soft pull of moonlight and smoke, he looks less like a mystery and more like a boy holding himself together with sheer will.

Sirius suddenly thinks to himself that if he wasn’t holding that cigarette, his hand would be twitching.

There’s too much stillness in him. The kind that feels less like peace and more like containment. Like if he relaxed even a fraction, something inside him might split. Sirius doesn’t say anything. Just takes another slow drag, letting the smoke sit on his tongue before exhaling it into the night.

He doesn’t push.

Not yet.

“Not really.” Regulus’ voice is strained.

Sirius nods, lips pressed tight in a line. He should leave it there. He knows better than to press. Knows how deeply woven silence is into the fabric of their family. But something twists in his chest anyway—this gnawing thing that won’t let go.

So he tries one more time, quieter now. “Did he do anything when he found out?”

That gets a reaction. A sharp breath through Regulus’ nose. He snorts, bitter amusement laced with something darker.

“Father never found out,” he says simply, and then he smokes again.

The words land hard.

Sirius looks at him, really looks, and feels that familiar ache rise up again—the one that always comes when he sees just how far Regulus has fallen into the role the family carved out for him.

A perfect son.

He wants to ask what would’ve happened if Orion had found out? But he already knows.

And Regulus doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t need to.

They sit there in the dark, with smoke on their tongues and ghosts at their backs, and the silence stretches on.

Not peaceful. No, it never was.

“Mother then?” Sirius asks, the question barely above a whisper.

Regulus doesn’t answer.

But he doesn’t need to.

The silence is an answer. A heavy one. Sirius watches the way his brother’s jaw tightens, the flicker of tension in his fingers as he holds the cigarette just a little too still. Regulus inhales, slow and deliberate, before he speaks again—his voice a strange blend of bitterness and calm.

“I was just not allowed to brew potions anymore,” he says, smoke slipping from his mouth like it’s part of the sentence. “Which is fair, I suppose. Your child brews Draught of Living Death, you may want to ensure he won’t do it again.”

Sirius frowns. The name alone makes his stomach turn. “That has a cure though.”

Regulus snorts, not amused at all. Well, maybe at himself. Sirius is not too sure. “Which would be useless if they thought I took Ashwither Draught instead.”

Right.

Because that one—the Ashwither Draught—was made to be indistinguishable. A perfect imitation of death. It fools even skilled Healers, bypasses detection spells, leaves no obvious trace. But its antidote isn’t gentle. It doesn’t rouse you like a kiss in a fairytale. It shreds the magic keeping you under, tears through every woven thread holding you still.

And for some reason—some inexplicable flaw that not even the most decorated Potioneers can account for—it reacts catastrophically with Draught of Living Death. Not slowly. Not mercifully.

It kills you. Instantly.

Sirius swallows hard, throat dry. That wasn’t a cry for help. Wasn’t a test. Regulus had brewed something that only looked reversible. But if anyone had thought to save him using the wrong cure…

They would’ve finished the job.

Sirius finds his breath catching for a moment, cigarette forgotten between his fingers.

Regulus had thought this through.

He’d planned it out in his head—how to die, how to never come back. Which potion would fool them. Which one would get him poisoned before they realized. He looks over, and for a split second, Regulus doesn’t look clever or cold or composed.

He looks tired.

“Do I need to worry?” Sirius asks, his voice brittle, sharp with something he can’t quite name—not fear, not yet, but something close. It’s there, lodged deep in his chest, and he doesn't want to acknowledge it.

Regulus doesn’t even blink. “Probably.”

The response is so flat, so devoid of any emotion that it almost feels like a joke. But it’s not. Not at all. And Sirius doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream, the tension gnawing at him, fraying the edges of his thoughts.

His hand moves before he thinks, pressing the heel of his palm into his eye, as though the action might stop the world from tilting under him.

“Merlin, Reggie.”

Regulus doesn’t apologize.

He just takes another drag, smoke curling out from the corners of his lips like breath from a dying star.

“It was a difficult time,” he says, voice calm but far too distant. “I lost everything. Barty. My freedom. Everything.”

Then, unexpectedly, he laughs. A low, sharp sound with no real humor in it.

“Isn’t it ironic?” Regulus asks, shaking his head. “We both tried to leave at the same age. I didn’t succeed, of course—but still. Hilarious.”

The word tastes bitter in the air.

Sirius doesn’t know what to say. Not at first. There’s too much in that sentence. Too much he doesn't know. Too much weight tucked between the casualness of the phrasing and the hollow sound of Regulus’ voice.

And judging by the way Regulus’ posture tightens slightly—like a door half-shut—Sirius figures the second part of that sentence is locked away. Off limits.

So he goes for the first. The one other piece Regulus did offer, however begrudgingly.

“You must’ve really loved him.”

Regulus flicks the spent cigarette over the edge of the balcony, watching the ember fall through the dark. It vanishes in the snow.

“No,” he says flatly. “I don’t think I did.”

Sirius frowns. “You don't try to—hold on.” A thought comes to mind—a feeble—childish one. “Do you even know what being in love feels like?”

He watches closely as Regulus stiffens ever so slightly. That subtle kind of stillness Sirius remembers from childhood—when Regulus was caught between lying and staying silent. Between actually expressing his thoughts or hiding behind a facade.

He turns to glance at Sirius, expression unreadable.

“Merlin,” Sirius mutters, eyes widening. “Were you basing it on Mum and Dad?”

Regulus looks away again, hand twitching. It hits Sirius all at once that his brother might be embarrassed. “Who else would I base my definition on?”

“They were an arranged marriage,” Sirius says, incredulous.

“And perfect for each other.”

“Yes,” Sirius says, snorting, ��but they didn’t love each other! Reg, you probably were in love. You just didn’t realize.”

The words hang between them, soft and cutting at the same time.

Regulus doesn’t respond.

He just sits there, shoulders taut, lips slightly parted like a word is caught between his teeth—but nothing comes. His brows are furrowed, thoughts clearly racing in his mind. Regulus’ hand stops twitching.

And Sirius—Sirius lets it be.

Because sometimes silence says more than honesty ever could.

A beat passes. Then another.

And then Regulus stands, sudden and abrupt, brushing off his trousers like the entire conversation hadn’t happened. The movement is too sharp to be casual.

Sirius eyes him, a flicker of something amused rising despite himself. Muggle clothes have never looked more out of place. A red jumper and dark jeans, all rather large on him. Like he’s playing dress-up as someone less haunted.

Sirius doesn’t say anything, but the thought makes him want to grin.

“So…” Regulus starts.

“I suppose dear old dad is dead,” Sirius says before his brother can redirect, tossing the words into the space between them like a lit match.

They look at each other for a long moment—neither speaking, neither moving. The air between them is thick, loaded with everything neither of them has said, everything neither of them wants to say.

Then, unexpectedly, they laugh.

Sirius laughs first—sharp, sudden, a sound too loud for the quiet of the balcony. It’s almost too much. Too raw. He can’t help it. It bursts out of him, escaping before he can stop it, like the pressure of everything inside finally finding an outlet.

Regulus doesn’t laugh right away. But his lips twitch. Just a little. And that twitch turns into something fuller—almost a smile. Not unguarded. Not soft. But real. There’s an edge to it, like he’s not entirely sure he’s allowed to do this. But he does it anyway.

It’s fleeting. But it’s there. A crack in the armour.

Sirius stops laughing first, but the smile doesn’t quite fade from his face. Not yet.

“Are we supposed to be mourning?” Regulus asks, almost academically.

“I believe so,” Sirius replies, still grinning.

“I’ll be sure to ask Potter for a black jumper then,” Regulus says dryly, tugging at the sleeve of his red one as if it personally offended him.

Sirius snorts. “I doubt he has one.”

Regulus gives him a look. “Don’t joke about that. You might be right.”

Sirius cackles, and Regulus lets out a breath that’s almost a laugh.

The moment is absurd. Light. Surreal. Two sons of a tyrant, standing in borrowed clothes, pretending they aren’t broken.

“It’s getting cold,” Regulus murmurs, turning toward the balcony door. His hand brushes the handle like he’s already halfway gone.

Sirius hesitates, then asks—quiet, genuine, unable not to;

“Why open up now?”

Regulus turns slightly, not enough to face him, but enough to shoot him a crooked grin over one shoulder.

“Because no one’s going to believe you if you said I did.”

And then he slips inside, leaving Sirius alone in the cold.

Arse.

But for the first time in a long time, Sirius doesn’t feel quite so angry about it. He stares at the moon and smiles, observing the stars with an open mind.

06 << >> 08

masterlist

#lowlylux #fanfiction #archive of our own #silver spoons (and butterknives)#jegulus #jegulily #james potter #lily evans #regulus black #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #marauders #marauders fanfiction #peter pettigrew #angst

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bearlytolerant · 7 months ago

Text

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solas x f!Lavellan

Rating: T

AO3

say that you will

It is a long way back to Skyhold and she knows she should give him space. But it’s so damn hard to convince herself this is the end. A day ago he was in her arms at dawn. A day ago he had held her hand and said I love you just before noon. A day ago and he had said she was a distraction at sunset.

Is that all it takes to return to strangers? A single day?

What changed?

She would’ve done a million things differently had she known. Traded in a meal just to stroke her knuckles against his jawline. Skipped that war meeting to lay in bed with him for that extra hour. Foregone a night of wicked grace to gaze at the stars, his whispered stories in her ear while he holds her tight.

And yet, maybe everything would’ve played out the same, exactly as it should have.

But what if it hadn’t?

Together they travel in silence, her arms wrapped around his waist upon her hart. Her fingers barely ghost the solid form of him, afraid to be too much when it’s not enough. But he holds her arm against his body tighter, reins in his hands and she knows he doesn’t want what he’s done either.

It’s raining. But the barrier he casts above their heads keeps her hair dry. And she knows if he were alone, he’d let the world dump on him, drenching him to the bone. He does this for her, even still.

The words unspoken form a wall between them but she can hear his heart beat as she rests her head on his back, staining his tunic with tears.

He had offered to walk back to Skyhold, knowing full well the hurt he caused would be unbearable, but she couldn’t bring herself to let that happen. It wasn’t his fault. All along he’d told her about his hesitancy in the relationship. Made his intentions quite clear.

He had said, “It could lead to trouble.”

She’d known this end was a possibility and the most likely outcome. She understood that time was the stipulation and she had agreed to the terms. If only it wasn’t so short-lived.

Stealing kisses and affection from him where she could was something she’d welcomed and treasured. Still, she just wished she’d had some warning so she could’ve stayed in his arms just a little longer. Tasted his lips just once more. Heard him call her Vhenan and mean it. After all, Corypheus wasn’t defeated. He didn't need to destroy what they had. Didn’t need to bury her in ruins.

Why did it have to be so sudden?

Maybe that’s the real reason she wanted him to ride with her. To hold him one last time. To say her silent and broken goodbyes. To memorize the curve of his body against her own and cement what they had as real. Her motivations for this situation were dubious at best but just because he could switch himself off with a sentence or two didn’t mean she was capable of the same.

He asks too much.

“We should stop and make camp,” he says. His formal tone with her jarring and foreign. But he sniffles, softly, almost inaudible.

“Oh, al-alright.” She sniffs too and wipes her face with the back of her hand.

She wonders if she should be angry. Any other sane person would be. But it’s hard to be angry at him when he rubs at his eyes, smearing his own tears with his thumb, trying to hide his own pain from her.

Solas doesn’t offer his hand to help her down like he used to. Doesn’t smile either. Or even spare a glance in her direction. Instead, he stiffly begins unstrapping their supplies from the hart and begins setting up a makeshift camp.

Sarya shuffles alongside him, doing her part to help and move the process along quickly. The sun sinks below the ombré blanketed horizon and the stars take its place as they pull down the blackened curtain. She piles the last of the kindling and lights a fire, then sits on the ground and stares into the flames.

Solas passes her some sandwiches left over from their romantic picnic and each bite she takes makes her nauseous. The bread tastes of despair and smells of heartache. She sets the half eaten sandwich aside, curling her arms around herself and watches the bats flit around in the trees above them. She studies them and wishes she could transform into a bat and fly away right about now. Oh to be a shapeshifter.

“You should eat,” Solas says.

Sarya slowly turns toward him and glares, unfurling herself. She snatches up the sandwich, stands, then winds up and hurls the sandwich as hard as she can into the darkness. Wiping the crumbs off on her leggings, she returns to her sitting position and continues to glare at him.

It earns her a sigh.

“No. You don’t get to do that,” she says.

“Do what exactly?”

“You don’t get to be exasperated with me.”

“You are angry.”

“I am—no.” She shakes her head, a few curls springing loose around her face. Hurt. Confused. Empty. “I have lost my appetite because I am in emotional pain. But not angry—maybe bitter. Spiteful even.”

“It is understandable for you to feel that way.”

“Solas, please. Don’t.” She yanks up a handful of grass and starts shredding it to pieces. “I can’t do this. Talking to you like this. Like what we were, never happened? Like you aren’t the source of all of—this.” She throws her hands up and then wraps her arms around her legs again.

Like he’s a friend who can offer advice and help her heal after hurt.

“This is not easy for me either.”

“Then why do it? Why not wait?”

“Would it make any difference?”

Sarya rubs at her forehead. She can feel the tears coming again but she swallows them back. “Well no. But,” she picks up a lonesome stick and begins to snap it, shredding it into saddened splinters, “can we just—can we just have this one last night?”

She can’t bear to look at him but she hears his sigh. It sounds so heavy and she doesn’t understand it because he won’t let her.

“Please,” she says again between the cricket chirps. “Let me in just one last time. Then we can move on. Promise.”

She sees his fingers tapping against his knee. Long fingers that spent countless nights intertwined with hers. Long, perfect fingers that danced in the air when he was passionate. That have comforted her during nightmares. Healed wounds and left no scars. Elicited pleasure she never experienced before. And now tap, tap, tap against a knee, never to grace her skin again.

“Sar–Inquisitor, it would be easier for the both of us if we refrained. I am sorry.”

No, she will have none of that Inquisitor shit.

She chucks the remainder of the stick behind her and is up on her feet. She marches over to him, fingers clutching his collar as she studies his stupidly sad face. He can’t even look her in the eye. But gods, if she doesn’t still love him. She bends down, fist in his collar and hand cupping his chin as she pulls him into a final, wild, and desperate kiss. He doesn’t move the rest of his body but his lips find their way to her easily enough. When she releases him, he reaches for her, hungrier than ever before.

“We shouldn’t,” he breathes.

“We aren’t,” she replies. And his hands are threaded through her hair and salt is on her lips.

Artwork here

#bear writes #actually old piece I edited and realized I never posted on here #solas x lavellan #solavellan #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #oc: sarya lavellan #solas #Crestwood breakup but make it worse

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razorblade180 · 2 months ago

Text

Ignited Ch6 Agendas

Silence. Absolute silence. It was once a thing that petrified Sienna. These days, she wishes it would happen more often. Instead her ears would constantly listen to the symphony of medical instruments keeping her father breathing. If only his eyes would open. If only he could save her from this dreadful audio like he saved her all those years ago. To think she’d still need help after all this time. She’d laugh if it wasn't so pathetic. Too bad she couldn’t cry either. All her tears had been used up hours ago while laying her head against his sheets. Now she simply ached from the inside out.

The door opened and a familiar face walked in. It was Neo. Her gaze locked onto the disheveled girl before looking at Adam.

“Any changes?”

“Nope.” Sienna’s voice cracked, dry from the lack of use. “Do you have an assignment for me? A bit odd that Ilia isn’t handling me.”

“No assignment. Not for you. I on the other hand, well that’s a different story. I’m going undercover indefinitely. Code Black.”

“What?” Her eyes widened. What the hell could be so pressing and looming that it’s Code Black? Not only that, but indefinite espionage!? Who’s the target?”

“Can’t really say, but it’s plausible they have ties to pretty spooky stuff. Salem didn’t go quietly. Left a lot of nasty surprises; you know that all too well. People who find them have to go.”

“That doesn’t explain you going alone.”

“Nobody infiltrates better than me. I had thought about a potential partner. However…” She looked Sienna up and down from messy hair to wrinkly pants she wore from yesterday. “My first pick needs time to heal.”

Sienna wasn’t blind or dumb. “I can go.”

“It’s not up to you. It’s my call and I say you’re not ready.”

“Then why even come here in the first place! Thought it would be funny to put more fear in my heart!? To make me wonder if I’m losing another pair of eyes in my life!?” She huffed, feeling her nails dig into her palm.

“Because not telling you would make you more upset and we know it. Look, you’re good but lately your head hasn’t been in this and it’s showing in your work. If I took you somewhere just to die, he and your mother would never forgive me.”

“Tsk, so you care about my mom now?”

“No, but I care about you.” Neo pulls out an envelope and hands it over. “We all do.”

“The hell is this? Hush money?”

“Haha, kinda. You asked why Ilia isn’t here? It’s so you can’t argue with the fact that as of now, you’re off duty until further notice.”

“Excuse me!?” She could feel her fur rise up. “So I’m just not a Shadow for the time being?”

“Pretty much. Be real with yourself. What ties you to us is currently in a coma. Nobody is doubting your loyalty, but you need space to see if you’re in the right spot to begin with.”

The girl couldn’t believe her ears. Years of training and now a forced leave of absence. “Unbelievable. Last time I checked, I have no other spot to be in. I’m a living ghost with no past or future.”

“Not exactly…” Neo pointed at the letter. “It’s in there. Your real name.”

Suddenly, the room felt silent, but cold as well. As if a ghost had entered it. She looked down at the letter.

“Feels heavier, doesn’t it? Name, family, identity; it took forever to find all the papers.”

“As if mom and dad didn’t have some of this already? Pfft, I’m not as naive as you think.” She waves the envelope, crushing the corner of it in frustration. “I could’ve known my name at any time. Some things are better left forgotten.”

“Nobody is making you learn your past, but it doesn’t change my position or speed up your reinstatement into our little den. At the end of the day, you have a life Sienna. Dye it the way you want, but at least keep in mind all the colors you have at your disposal. Personally, I don’t think remembering your past will change much about you.”

Neo walked over to the nightstand by Adam. A vase of old flowers was taken into her arms and over to a sink to dump the water. “However, it will silence a lot of bothersome thoughts in your head.”

“Or cause new ones.”

“Take it from me, there’s freedom in moving onto a new target instead of chasing the same one endlessly.” Neo tossed the flowers into the trash and began to make her way out of the room. “I’ll tell Ilia to bring new roses next time she visits.”

“I can pick some from my house.” Sienna huffed.

“Suit yourself. Oh, one more thing.” Neo turned around and looked at the girl. “I saw your sister before she left for Vale. She looked familiar.”

“To who?”

“Myself of course; a long time ago. You might not think much of how you want to move forward from here, but if you care about her, I recommend you show her first hand that the last thing she wants to do is go backwards.”

The expert assassin left without another word. Left with her thoughts, Sienna looked at the letter pensively. No matter how she looked at it, opening it could only lead to moving backwards. Repressed memories don’t happen for no reason, and they never stopped the restless nights or anxiety she felt when it came to anything restrictive. Even simple jewelry like bracelets was agitating and necklaces never felt quite right.

“Maybe I haven’t been moving for a while now?” She muttered, thinking about all the little flaws that made her uncomfortable. Her eyes looked at her father again, as if he had an answer. “Still nothing huh? Guess I really have to do this without you.”

Sienna put the envelope in her back pocket as she sighed. Nothing about this leave was going to be relaxing. If only she went to Beacon too. It could’ve distracted her mind. She could’ve seen her sister’s face. What was the face she was making before her departure?

“Jael, don’t do anything stupid out there.”

xxxxxxxx

The time has finally arrived. After a short break, the third and final phase of Beacon’s entrance exam was underway. When Jael learned it would be a match, she had assumed one of the many sparring grounds inside the school would be her ring; a thought too sound apparently for a prestigious school. Her and many others walked into a facility akin to a giant warehouse on the outside. Inside however, now that was a real surprise.

Bleachers lined the walls all the way around while four paths on each side connected to a middle platform. Above the bleachers straight ahead had a space Jael remembered seeing at the few sports events she saw. Actually, the more she looked at this place, it looked oddly familiar to something once described to her.

“Was this used in the Vytal festival?” She said aloud to anyone with an answer.

“Close.” Lilith responded. “It’s modeled after the final stage of the tournament. Meaning no environmental hazards. Just you and your future opponent giving it everything you got.”

“Within reason.” Glynda added, walking towards the center as the examinees went both left and write to fill up some bleacher spots. “Don’t get too comfortable.

Lilith opened a portal in front of her precious headmaster that led straight to the middle of the ring. Next, she opened a second portal for the honor guests and herself that led to the skybox area. Where they overlooked everything. Lilith happily joined them, giving Glynda the thumbs up to continue.

Such an impulsive child at times; Glynda couldn’t help but shake her head as she smiled. “As I was saying, don’t get too comfortable. We’ve evaluated all your performances so far, both in the writing and obstacle test. Your efforts in both were considered and calculated for this moment; practical combat. More often than not, a Huntsman faces their fellow man. Fighting Grimm is one thing, people are another. Here we’ll see how well you can confront this reality.”

A massive screen lit up behind her with the names of all the participants. Each name had a line connected to the one across from it, as well as two green dots preceding the name.

“Everyone here will fight twice. One match is already decided by whoever your name is connected to. The additional match is based completely on your choice upon getting called onto the field. Now let me be absolutely transparent with you all. Losing your fights does not mean you’ll outright fall. The qualities of a Beacon student can’t merely be defined by wins and losses.”

A collective sigh of relief filled the room. Marcus was particularly pleased. “Thank goodness. It might mean their criteria might be a bit more specific but I’m okay with that. Never did well when put suddenly under pressure, but I guess that’s not how you roll, huh?”

He looked at Jael, his new friend, but received no response. Her eyes were glued to the screen as if it was a thriller film. Then, a smile creeped onto the corner of her lips. Marcus followed her line of sight until he found her name. For a moment he was petrified at the possibility her smile spelled his doom immediately. That wasn’t the case fortunately. Although, one that still wouldn’t have him grinning like that. “Yujin Xiao Long. Hmm, she seems pretty tough.”

“Well let’s see how tough.” Jael began raising her hand. “Mi-”

“Can I go first!?” Called out an energetic voice.

Everyone’s attention turned towards Tenzen, who waved casually at his instructor. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but if we get two fights, that means you’ll stagger them out. That way there’s recovery time.”

“Yes, that is the idea I was getting to.”

Glynda crossed her arms. “All of you are inexperienced after all. Fortunately we have a healer in the building as well. In case of recklessness.”

Jaune scrunched his face. “No wonder she’s been more accommodating than usual. Looks like I’m free labor today.”

“Wouldn’t you help regardless?” Lilith questioned.

“Yeah, but I’d still like to be asked!”

Tenzen stood up from his seat. “Then if it’s alright with you, I’d very much like to get my first match out of the way. Pretty please?” He put his hands together, earning a few chuckles from his peers.

Glynda could tell something was up. The child of Nora and Ren was no fool and used to regular combat. Impulsive as he could be, he wouldn’t rush into this out of a sense of anxiety or naïveté.

“Very well. Since you’re so eager, please pick between your required opponent, or personal choice.”

More murmurs flooded the rooms as people realized that choice was available, instead of chosen opponent being mandatory first. Not even Yujin expected it.

“Hmm, this adds an unexpected layer of complexity. If you don’t pick the opponent you already know first, then they get to watch you fight! Worst case scenario it’s your turn again before they have a single match!” Yujin looked at the board intensely.

“Who would’ve thought I’d be up against Jael. No way she’s a pushover. My best bet is probably to pick someone I can handle easily first. That way she can’t learn much, I look decent in front of Miss Goodwitch, and I can get warmed up!”

Yujin nodded to herself. Yes, it was a solid strategy. All she had to do was go after Tenzen to pull it off!

“I pick to fight Yujin Xiao Long.” Tenzen said without hesitation.

The room was dead silent. Yujin was still in the middle of smiling about her plan until the words spoken finally sunk in. Slowly, her head turned left and looked up at the boy standing right next to her. “Huh?” Was all she could utter.

Glynda made it official by typing it in on her scroll. “Very well, the both of you have five minutes to prepare. Stand in the arena when you’re ready.” She walked through another portal that led to the others.

“HUH!?” Yujin repeated. How did everything go so wrong so fast! “Tenzen, what the-”

“Don’t hold back on me.” He said dryly, leaping towards the arena already.

The mischief in his tone had vanished and left Yujin more than a little confused. What was with the sudden intensity. That wasn’t like him at all. He was cracking jokes the entire day.

Yujin wasn’t the only one confused. Jael hadn’t expected anyone to beat her to the punch. Now she’d have to wait, and it was all thanks to him! As she watched him move, a faint chill went up her spine as Tenzen’s gaze seemed to look in her direction for only a moment before focusing ahead. Even behind the mask, she could tell he was watching her. If it was anyone else she’d think nothing of it, but him of all people… now that couldn’t be a coincidence.

Jael’s eyes narrowed as she placed her hands in her lap. “ Perhaps I looked too eager. Did he know I wanted to go?” Regardless of the answer, her moment would come, but now she had to think ahead and play this challenge’s mental game.

Up above, Yang watches with anticipation but notices her daughter’s hesitance. “Wasn’t expecting things to move this fast. From the looks of it, neither was my little girl. At least it’s a fight with a friend.” She looks over at Her family to see very different reactions.

Both her parents as well as Jaune stand with their lips tucked in and squinted eyes in a way that inspires no confidence.

Yang’s shoulders slouched. “Uh oh, what? Don’t tell me she can’t fight her crush?”

Raven shook her head. “Oh no, she can fight Tenzen any day of the week. It’s just that…”

“She’s never beaten him once.” Jaune finished.

Everyone else’s eyes widened as they looked back at the girl sitting stiff. “Ooooh. Yikes…”

Nora nudged Ren and shrugged. “I guess we’re the cooler parents.” She watched him slowly cover his mouth to keep composure while Jaune and Yang looked right at her.

Before they could say anything, a familiar voice from behind the door chimed in.

“Ahaha! Never change, Nora.”

The door opened and everyone gasped as cat ears came into view. Yang’s smile doubled in size seeing Blake before her jaw immediately fell open at the sight of her stomach looking a little rounder than last time they met.

Blake smiled and waved. “Hey everyone! Sorry I’m late. You all look well.”

“You look pregnant!” They all said in unison, aside from Jacquelyn.

“It has been a year. You should be more surprised I’m not walking in here with a kid on my hip.” She joked. Her eyes were drawn towards Jackie. “I was a little busy helping with other kids.”

Canary looked at the two curiously, still sensing something was amiss alongside the other instructors. “Would you mind elaborating. I’ve been remarkably patient by my standards, but I’ve grown rather annoyed over the years with people playing secret chess games. What’s so special about your daughter, and why is it putting people on edge?”

“Canary, show a little tact.” Glynda sighed. “I assumed you were in the loop; though I suppose Winter wouldn’t have any reason to tell you. You’re aware you were watched over by a group in secret when growing up, correct?”

Canary nodded and looked at Blake. “Yes, founded by her and run publicly by Sun Wukong until her return.Although the covert side is well, covert. All to keep my uncle, mom, Yunjin’s family, and Tenzen’s safe from those damned cultists.”

“Well, The Shadows were up and running long before that, and they never took direct orders from me. They got them from the group I left in charge. You may know these names. Ilia, Mercury, Emerald, Neo, and…”

“Adam Taurus.” Lilith uttered, staring at Jael through the glass. She turned back around to see the shock on several faces. The girl shrugged and said, “It was adding up as you spoke. And here I thought her style was simply a choice.”

Canary looked at a room full of acceptance, where there should’ve been defiance. Lilith had hit the nail on the head. A thousand new questions bubbled up in her brain like hot water, but none of them seemed to matter in the face of the reality that the daughter of Adam Taurus was chosen to fight Yang’s daughter, and many people in the room were clearly concerned about it! Words fail to describe how concerned Canary immediately became.

Glynda rested a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Relax. It’s a lot to sort through. Frankly my doubts about matching the two together haven’t gone away, but I never expected Tenzen to act this way either. I’m unsure of what he’s picked up on, but I believe he has his own reasons for throwing Yujin in the ring so suddenly. What they are, we’ll have to wait and see.”

Down below, a buzzer signals the end of preparations and with it, Tenzen’s carefree nature as Yujin walks into the ring. Time to get serious for once. “Hey, Yujin?” He slowly removed his mask, not caring about the reveal to the audience.

Cold, calculating eyes made contact in a way Yujin never felt before. A thousand times they’ve fought, and a thousand times she gave it her all without regret. However, as she clenched her blade tightly in front of her and stared at her longtime friend and rival once again, he seemed… unrecognizable to her. This was not just a fight.

Tenzen smirked at Yujin’s silence, her body tensing and poised despite the uncertainty. He pulled out his tonfas.

Glynda turned on her microphone. “Begin.”

It happened in a blink of an eye. Yujin didn’t know why she did it, but her arms swung forward as quickly as possible. The thunderous sound of electric metal collided with her blade as she grit her teeth in front of Tenzen, who closed the gap immediately.

“Ngh!” Yujin couldn’t believe it. “Full speed right off the bat!?”

Tenzen whistled in amazement. “Phewe~ nice. Don’t disappoint me now.”

13 notes · View notes

buckysgrace · 1 year ago

Text

Twenty Nine

CW: homphobic slur

Billy

The next morning was just as rough getting out of bed, but Billy did it anyway. The coke withdrawals always hit him hard, made him feel worse and so terrible about himself. Sometimes it didn’t feel like the high was worth it.

He felt guilty with the way he’d treated Kim, how he’d mindlessly pushed her away. He didn’t mean to come off in that manner, he truly didn’t. His mind was just screaming at him, far louder than it had in a long time. It felt like everything was crashing down around him.

“This girl invited me out this weekend,” Kim told him softly as she ate her cereal, “I think we’re friends? I don’t know her that well.” She shrugged her shoulders softly as she lost herself to her thoughts. Billy observed her features again, wondering if her friend was the reason she was continuing to use bright blue on her eyelids instead of pink.

“That’s how you become friends,” Billy teased her gently, “Go see her for a bit. You deserve to have some fun.” He told her truthfully. He had an urge to meet with whom she’d been speaking about, but he also didn’t want to invade her space either. He’d wait for her to invite him, the same way he’d invited her.

“I have fun with you.” She told him quickly, sounding like she’d rather stay with him anyways. He grinned as he walked towards her, watching the way she dumped the leftover milk down the sink then washed it out.

“You see me every day,” He teased, quickly scooping her up in his arms as he noticed no one was around, “I can give you a parting gift.” He told her softly, leaning forward just enough to bite down on her bottom lip. She gasped, her heart beating the same rhythm as his as he pulled her closer.

“Promise?” She teased him softly, her cheeks flushed as she pressed up against him. Billy gently brushed his thumb against her cheek, brushing away a loose eyelash as she pressed his forehead up against hers. He slowly moved his hand back down to her waist.

“Mhm,” Billy grinned as he ran his hands up her slender curves, “Whatever you want.” He flicked his tongue across her opened mouth, giving her something to think about as he pulled away. He grinned at the state of her, noticing how flushed and taken aback she was suddenly. He took a sip of his coffee as he heard steps coming down the hallway.

“Hey,” Russell said brightly as he approached Billy, “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He said a little too eagerly, his smile growing from ear to ear. Billy shifted uncomfortably in his spot as he nodded his head, still unsure of how to handle the younger boy's attention.

“Just had a bug.” Billy brushed it off, slightly surprised that so many people had cared. Even Max had gifted him with another hug yesterday. It made him feel odd.

“Those suck,” Russell nodded his head along excitedly, “We noticed that you weren’t here. All of us. We missed you.” He said, emphasizing the we part. Billy slowly dragged his eyes towards Kim, watching the amused look that grew on her features.

“He’s right,” Kim grinned, looking a little too joyful as she scooped Russell into a side hug and rested her cheek on top of his moppy hair, “We missed you so much.” She spoke sweetly as she rubbed her cheek back and forth on top of Russell’s head. He laughed, grinning widely as he held onto Kim.

“Huh,” Billy replied dryly as he brought the coffee mug up to his lips, “Thank you.” He told him a second later, nodding his head in agreement. Russell smiled as he moved away, looking like he was extra excited as he grabbed an orange from the bowl.

“Are we going?” Max grumbled from the hallway, “I just want to get this day over with.” She looked more irritated than usual, her features pulled tightly into a scowl. He observed her for a moment, wondering if school was going worse for her.

“Yeah,” Billy said as he finished the rest of his drink, wincing at how hot it was, “Let’s go.” He said quickly as he went to rinse his mug out. He watched as the water slowly turned clear again. He dried his hands off quickly.

“Cool,” Russell said as he bounced over towards Max, “Do you have your science project today?” He asked as Max began to grumble out an answer. Billy watched as the two younger teens made their way towards the door, Russell carrying the conversation as they did so.

“You’re funny,” Billy told her once Russell was out of earshot, “Real funny.” He told Kim seriously as he poked her soft sides. She giggled, wiggling away as she took her hands in his quickly. She shook her head, giving him a warning look as he pretended to reach for her sides again.

“He’s so adorable,” Kim breathed out deeply as she squeezed his hands softly in hers, “He’s like a little puppy and he has all of your cute little features. I just wanna squish him.” She said as she pouted her lips out, reaching her hands out to squeeze at Billy’s cheekbones. He lightly gripped her hands, pausing as he kissed each of her fingertips.

“You have issues.” He told her teasingly as his lips curled into a smile against her skin. He looked down at her nails, noticing the fresh paint of red on there. His eyes moved up the length of her arms, suddenly thinking about the lingerie he’d gifted her. He thought about her red nails, the black lace and the dark red she could paint her lips. He dropped her hand suddenly, knowing that if his thoughts continued neither of them would be leaving. She turned with a smile, clueless to his thoughts as she pulled the door open, “I know,” She admitted as she dragged her feet towards the car, “But you still love me.” She said pointedly as she glanced back towards him, flicking her thick eyelashes towards him. He bit his lip, letting his eyes linger at the way her hips moved. He watched the way the back of her skirt caught against her pale thighs and suddenly felt himself walking a little faster as he felt his cock stirring in his jeans.

“I do,” He agreed with a smile, “My little oddball.” He teased lightly, trying to get his mind off of anything but her skin. He rubbed the back of his neck before he popped a cigarette between his lips, feeling like this would be a long day without her.

////////////////

“You’re still here?” Billy questioned as he walked inside, looking at how Sam was finishing a cup of coffee. Usually by the time Billy got everyone dropped off, Sam was long gone with whatever odd hours he worked.

“Had a late day,” Sam said with a nod as he held his coffee cup, “Good morning to you.” He said with a smile. Billy shrugged his shoulders in return, feeling like there wasn’t anything special about this morning. He did feel a dire need to do something, rather than just lounge around the house. Rosemary kept it too clean for him to do anything else but succumb to his boredom.

“Can you drop me off at the bakery?” He asked a second later, unsure of why he couldn't drive himself. He paused, trying to convince himself that it was better to hitch a ride than waste the gas money.

“Sure,” Sam said quickly as he rinsed the rest of his coffee down the sink drain, “Let’s roll.” He said with a goofy smile. Billy exhaled deeply, wondering if this was a good idea at all.

He strolled out to the car, enjoying the warm breeze that drifted against his shoulders. He felt slightly optimistic, like today would be a better day. He hoped so. He still felt like he owed Kim something, like he ought to give her something sweet.

He slid his way into the car, pausing before he buckled himself up. Sam moved around the car a second later, his eyes looking a bit tired as he made his way inside the car. Billy glanced out the window, ready for the awkward silence to talk over.

“I didn’t know you liked this music.” Billy observed as he peered at the familiar station that was dancing across Sam’s screen. Sam paused as he reached between his legs to scoot the chair far back, letting his long legs stretch out.

“The beat is interesting,” Sam said quickly as he adjusted his mirrors too. He paused before he buckled up, then began to drive, “It takes a lot of talent to do that.” He told Billy as a look of interest crossed his features. Billy found himself shaking his head before he could stop himself .

“Oh,” Billy said, then snorted to himself, “Of course you’d spin it like that.” He laughed to himself as he rubbed his thumb across his nose. It was slightly raw, a little redder than usual. He figured he’d give it a while to heal before he did anything too drastic. He didn’t want to fuck his nose up.

“What?” Sam laughed, “There’s a lot you can learn through music. Especially the way music has changed over time. How is that not cool?” Sam asked seriously at the end of his ramble, looking like he wanted an answer to his question. Billy paused, unsure of how to handle the attention on him.

“It’s very nerdy.” Billy said as he shook his head. He nearly laughed again, wondering if Sam would get as offended as he did with Tommy. Billy was sure that he had never seen Sam so angry before. He thought it was quite hilarious as he thought of himself as being worse than Tommy.

“Yeah, well,” Sam shrugged his shoulders, “I like learning things.” Sam said with a quiet laugh as he pulled onto the busy roads. Billy glanced around, enjoying the way the clouds seemed to be dancing through the bright blue sky.

“So does Kim.” Billy said a second later, sure that she read her textbooks for fun. He hated comparing Kim and Sam together, but he supposed there was no getting around it. Although she looked like Susan, she acted just like Sam. He wondered if Susan had ever gotten frustrated with Kim for that reason.

“Susan used to get irritated,” Sam said softly as he glanced towards Billy, confirming his thoughts, “Kim used to grade over Susan’s homework papers when she was little. It drove Susan mad, but Kim would just say she was grading,” Sam chuckled as he temporarily lost himself in the memory, “She was the cutest little kid.”

“Is that when you lived with Susan’s mom?” Billy asked cautiously, feeling a need to know a little bit more about Kim’s childhood. He wondered how lonely it must’ve been for her. He supposed it was good that she got Max a few years later.

“Debra,” Sam corrected him gently, “And she was a - well, she was a cunt. There’s no way around it.” He said, glancing over both of his shoulders before he turned the car to the left. Billy thought about it for a moment, a little surprised that Sam would say such a thing. He figured that it really did mean that Debra was awful.

“Is it just because she hated you?” He felt his eyebrows knitting together as he asked the question, thinking that Debra probably had a reason to not like him. He wondered if Susan had started hating Sam first, or if that had been part of Debra’s influence.

“Her and Susan had problems before,” Sam said briefly, “She never let me ask too much. Debra thought I needed a better job, that we weren’t ready for a kid. All sorts of things.” He rambled on for a minute, moving one of his hands off of the wheel to gesture as he spoke. Billy pondered on the thought for a moment.

“Teachers do have shitty salaries.” Billy said in agreement, thinking of how Neil had criticized any males that had teaching degrees. Neil had always thought that it was a woman’s job, unless it involved college level thinking.

“Teaching was just the first step in my career, or it was supposed to be,” Sam said, “I wanted to be a geologist.” He told Billy honestly, surprising him a little bit. Kim had talked so intensely about how Sam had loved teaching. Billy couldn’t imagine enjoying teaching just because he didn’t finish school.

“Why didn’t you?” Billy questioned, although he didn’t know why he was asking. He really didn’t care about what Sam did, but he figured it was better than sitting in an awkward silence. Billy fumbled for a moment before he pulled out his box of cigarettes.

“I graduated with my teaching degree the spring before Kim was born,” Sam explained slowly, nodding his head as Billy offered him a stick, “Susan said it was only fair that she went to school next. She was right, she deserved that chance. I just never got a chance to go back.” He mumbled as he held the cigarette between his lips. Billy leaned forward to give him a light.

“She said you ruined her nursing career.” He told Sam honestly as he lit his own cigarette. He breathed in the sweet nicotine, enjoying how it seemed to soothe his nerves and joints. Sam laughed, nodding his head in agreement. Billy wasn’t sure how he was able to act so carefree while admitting to his wrongs.

“At the hospital,” Sam said, “I worked as a janitor after I lost my teaching job. I lost the janitor job because one of the other nurses sold me some pills and yeah. That all came crashing down.” He said as he blew out a deep cloud of smoke. Billy raised his eyebrow, a little surprised by that answer.

“Shit,” Billy said as he took another drag from his cigarette, “I didn’t know you did other stuff.” He admitted softly, trying to keep his features as stoic as possible. He didn’t need Sam suspecting anything, nor did he want Sam to be on the watch for Billy’s behaviors.

“Alcohol opens the door for a lot of things.” Sam replied quietly as he looked forward at the road, his eyes looking slightly sorrowful again. Billy wondered what all he’d done, what he hadn’t been caught doing.

“What you said about your stepdad before,” Billy drew out softly, “Did Kim meet him?” He asked curiously, thinking of an instance where Kim spoke of any of her grandparents. He couldn't remember much, other than her telling him that she’d lived with her grandma.

“No,” Sam quickly, “Well, not that she’d remember. Just once when she was little. She was two I think?” He thought to himself for a moment, like he was unsure of just how old she had been. Billy waited curiously until he seeked the answers out on his own again.

“What happened?” He asked, almost afraid to ask as he inhaled the smoke deep inside of his lungs. He enjoyed the way it slightly burned, how he swore he could feel it swimming inside of his organs. He exhaled a second later, almost fearing that Sam would say that his parents had been mean to her.

“Nothing really,” Sam replied a second later, “I mean it was just weird. You know Kim has always had a sweet tooth. We couldn’t always afford it but, anyways, my stepdad was just odd. He kept holding these candies out for her to grab, but once she got close enough, he put them in his pockets.” He rambled on for a moment, looking troubled as he thought back to the situation on his own.

“He wanted her to cry?” Billy asked in confusion, not really understanding why it would make Sam so uneasy. It made his stepdad sound like a dick, but it wasn’t necessarily cruel. Not like any of the things Neil had mentioned about his dad. Or how Sam had said his stepfather had tried to drown him.

“No,” Sam said, “He tried to make her reach into his pockets to grab them. I left with her after that; I didn't come back until I moved out. So, he didn’t really do anything, but - I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right.” He looked a little revolted as he spoke, like he thought the worst could happen. Billy blanched for a moment, his mind not even considering that.

“Yeah,” Billy breathed out softly as a shiver raced down his back, “That is odd.” He mumbled in agreement as he rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip. He thought that it was good that Kim had never asked about him.

“Has she ever mentioned meeting them?” Sam looked at him curiously, almost like he was worried about what was happening. Billy shook his head softly, not recalling that Max had ever mentioned them either.

“No,” Billy responded truthfully, “She’s said that you don’t talk about your past a lot, but that’s it.” He mentioned slowly. He wondered if it would make Sam more honest to Kim, to open up a little more. He thought that Kim would like that.

“She doesn’t need to know everything, as much as that may bother her,” Sam said quickly with a light chuckle, “Have a good day, alright?” Billy paused as he held onto the doorknob but was unable to push the door open. He figured he was keeping Sam late, but he suddenly had a dire need to know why.

“Why did you leave them?” He asked him seriously, feeling like he was missing a big chunk of the piece. He knew it was none of his business, that Sam had every right to not share that information. Still, he felt like he needed to know. He wanted to see if there was any reassurance he could give Kim, or if he truly was as awful as Billy had previously thought.

“I wasn’t a good dad,” Sam said softly, “Susan wanted a divorce and obviously would’ve gotten custody and everything else. She wanted me gone and at that point, I thought it was best.” Sam spoke quietly, like it was still a sore subject. Billy stared at him for a moment, still not understanding why it would make Sam leave.

“So you just left.” Billy stated with a nod of his head. Sam paused as he leaned back in his seat. He reached down to his hand, beginning to twist the gold band that rested across his finger.

“It wasn’t an overnight thing,” Sam told him gently, “I did what I thought was best for my girls and for Susan.” His tone was raw, full of regret suddenly. Sam’s demeanor changed, his shoulders sagging as he suddenly appeared smaller.

“It wasn’t the best.” Billy told him honestly, knowing how Kim felt about the subject. He knew she would’ve rather their family been messy, than for Sam to be away from them. Billy suddenly wondered what would’ve happened, if he would’ve ever met her if their families were still separated. He thought that they would’ve. Somehow.

“I know.” Sam nodded his head in agreement, his eyes staring forward suddenly. Billy sighed as he gripped the handle and popped the door open. He paused as he stepped out, quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Thanks,” Billy mumbled softly as he took a step back from the car, “See you later.” He responded awkwardly as he walked across the street. He jogged towards the backdoor, figuring it was better to go in through this way than the busy front door.

“Hey,” Rosemary stopped in shock, nearly tripping over the tiled floors, “You’re here?” She looked at him stunned, like she hadn’t expected to see him. Which, she probably hadn’t. This was the first time he’d been to the bakery without the others.

“I didn’t have anything else to do.” He admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. He figured it was best to stay busy than to do anything else. He wasn’t sure if he trusted where his mind would wander on its own.

“No, no that’s perfect,” She said as she carried a large chocolate cake to one of the tables, “Can you take over the dishes? Dottie is on them now but I could use her help.” She said quickly, looking a little flustered as fanned her reddened cheeks for a second.

“Sure,” He shrugged his shoulders as he walked over, “I guess I’m taking over.” He told Dottie softly, feeling like he’d rather sit out over her anyways. At least it would give him time to think on his own.

“Oh, okay,” Dottie smiled widely, “It’s good to see you again. Your mom has been so happy.” She said dramatically as she dried her hands off. She rubbed at her back for a second before she moved out of her way.

“That’s great,” Billy responded dryly, “Thanks.” He nodded his head as he took her spot, not really wanting to hear about how badly Rosemary missed him. It was too raw for him to handle right now.

He washed and scrubbed at the dishes, his hands and mind staying busy as he worked. He felt better than he had in a long time. His muscles and hands ached from the movements, reminding him that he needed to get a workout routine down again. He didn’t want to lose the muscles that he’d gained.

“What are you doing after?” Rosemary asked as she walked up to him. She looked less flushed, a little more relaxed. He paused as he let go of the soapy plate, watching as it sank back to the bottom of the sink.

“Not a lot,” Billy admitted, “I have an interview at a grocery store I used to work at.” He said as he raised his forearm up to wipe the sweat away from his forehead. The back of the kitchen remained hot from the way the stoves were constantly on. He glanced at the clock, noticing there was less than an hour left.

“Oh!” Rosemary’s face brightened, “I need a few things, I could take you.” She said a little too excitedly. Billy paused for a minute, not thinking that he needed his mommy to take him to a possible job interview.

“You really don’t have to.” He tried to brush her off as he used the hose to rinse the soap off from the dish. He pushed it into the sanitizer, brushing past her softly to do so. She paused as she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

“Please,” She said softly, “I won’t interrogate you I promise.” She said sweetly, looking a little desperate as she peered up towards him. Billy sighed roughly as he debated with himself for a moment. He shrugged his shoulders at last.

“Sure,” He replied, “If you really want to.” He said as he looked away from her again. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be around her for that long, but also didn’t have it in himself to brush her off. He was sure that there was something wrong with himself.

“I do,” Rosemary said quickly, “I’ll be fun. Thank you.” She said quickly as she squeezed his arm softly. Billy stared at where her hand was resting over his bicep and nodded, still not used to the feeling of her touching him.

“Alright,” He said briefly as he nodded his head, “That works then.” He mumbled as he began to scoop the pots and pans onto the drying rack. He watched as the water ran down the surface then dipped back into the sink. He breathed in deeply, wondering how he’d get through this afternoon on his own.

/////////////////////

“Hey,” Billy said as he walked up towards the front, “I had an interview with Derek.” He said, glancing around at the familiar building. It was slightly busier from what he remembered. He thought that the walls were painted a different color too.

“Oh right,” A girl around his age smiled, walking around the corner of the desk. Billy glanced back, looking at where Rosemary waved him on as she grabbed a hold of her cart, “He said that you worked here before?” She questioned him, her dark eyes intrigued as she watched him.

“Yeah, when I was a kid,” Billy explained briefly as he followed her into the offices, “Thanks.” He mumbled as she shot him a wave. He peered around again, thinking about the first time he’d been in this room. He’d had to sit at the very edge of the seat to touch his sneakers to the floor.

“Hi,” Derek greeted with a grin, looking similar to the way Billy remembered him, “You’ve grown since I’ve last seen you. Good to see you again.” He said politely as he shook Billy’s hand. Billy returned the movements with a soft smile.

“Yeah,” Billy nodded his head in agreement, “Just moved back actually.” He said as he rubbed the hand that he’d used to touch Derek’s across his jeans. He wasn’t sure what to say. He really didn’t have much of a resume. He wasn’t sure how far lifeguarding and being a high school graduate would get him.

“Awesome,” Derek smiled kindly, “Do you want your old position? Just bagging and pushing carts around. Maybe after a while you could go to stocking.” He looked at him curiously as he flipped through some of the papers on his desk. Billy twisted his ring across his finger, not figuring that it would be that easy.

“Works with me,” Billy said casually, “What would be the hours?” He asked as he tilted his head, waiting for what Derek would tell him.

“Do you prefer mornings or nights?” Derek asked him curiously as he leaned forward to rest his elbows against the table. Billy began to bounce his foot against the floor.

“Mornings if I can,” Billy told him quickly, thinking about how he needed the evenings to be with Kim, “It just works easier right now.” He shrugged his shoulders softly. He could honestly work any hours, but he wanted time to be with Kim.

“Sure,” Derek smiled kindly, “Do you want to stop by tomorrow and get adjusted?” He asked as he pushed a paper forward. Billy looked down at the schedule, feeling like this wouldn’t be too bad at all. He could still drop Kim and the other two off, then pick them up by the time he was done with his shift.

“Sounds great,” Billy nodded his head, “Thanks man.” He smiled towards him, feeling a little better knowing that he wasn’t just lounging around anymore. He thought he’d feel better having something to do, something to keep his mind busy.

“So?” Rosemary asked eagerly, still standing in the same spot by the time he’d returned. He watched as she placed back a coupon book, like she’d been trying to distract herself for the past few minutes. Something about the situation made him feel odd, made him feel like he was a little kid again.

“I got it.” He mumbled softly as he approached her, trying to shake off the jittery feeling that was lingering inside of his chest. He still couldn’t tell how he felt to have her back. As a child he’d dreamt about it for so long, but now he was too grown to confide in those silly fantasies.

“Oh good!” She said excitedly, “I knew that you would.” She said reassuringly as she began to push the cart forward. He followed her a little surprised, not actually expecting her to need things.

“I worked here before,” Billy shrugged his shoulders, “I’m sure that’s why.” He told her truthfully. He was sure that was the only reason that Derek had hired him so easily. Rosemary glanced back at him before she leaned over the cart to put a few boxes of cereal inside.

“I’ll miss having you at the bakery,” Rosemary admitted, “But if you like it here that’s good.” She told him quickly, like she didn’t want to dismiss what he wanted to do. He shrugged his shoulders, feeling like a job was just a job.

“It was nice.” He said briefly as he glanced around the aisles again. He honestly couldn’t remember much of it, other than getting some sort of break from Neil. He felt guilty for that suddenly, like he shouldn’t think that way.

“Is there anything you need for groceries?” She asked as she pulled out a piece of paper. He watched as she began to mark a few items off before she turned down the next row. Despite her shorter legs, she walked fast.

“Uh,” Billy paused as he followed her through the aisles, “Salads are good. I like protein.” He shrugged his shoulders, not really caring what he got. He was just thankful they hadn’t kicked him out to the street yet.

“Nothing specific then?” She looked at him curiously as she stopped in the middle of the aisle. He shook his head.

“I'll eat anything.” He told her truthfully, not really caring what it was. Neil never really gave him many options. He didn’t have the choice of just skipping out on meals and making something else later.

“I know,” She said as she pursed her lips into a smile, “You were such a good eater as a baby. You used to get so cranky if I didn’t put it out fast enough. Except for eggs. You never quite liked eggs.” She spoke with an amused tone as she thought to herself. Billy felt his own memory tugging on his heartstrings, thinking about how she used to pull up a chair for him in the kitchen so he could help her cook.

“They’re pretty disgusting,” He said in agreement, “I guess I never outgrew that.” He replied more to himself. At one time he was fairly certain it had been because Neil would make them so often. He’d always said it was hard to mess up on eggs, but he certainly knew how to make them taste rubbery and rotten every single time.

“That’s alright,” Rosemary said as she scanned the refrigerated produce, “I’m determined to get Kim to not be so picky.” She mumbled underneath her breath as she pulled the door open. He felt his eyebrow raising on his forehead as he watched her struggle with a large turkey, then a ham.

“You’re getting a turkey and a ham?” Billy asked, “Isn’t that a lot for us?” He questioned her, unsure of how all of that would get eaten. Kim certainly didn’t have a big appetite and was picky, he didn’t really think that Max or Russell at that much either.

“Well,” Rosemary paused, “I haven’t told the girls yet but I have plans on inviting Susan. Sam said she’ll be out of jail then.” She said with a kind smile. Billy raised both of his eyebrows this time, feeling like that wasn’t a very good idea at all. He had a feeling that this whole situation would make Susan very angry and bitter.

“What if she just runs off with Max and Kim?” He asked her seriously, tilting his head to examine her features as she thought over his words. He honestly didn’t think that Kim would go back with Susan after everything that happened, but he was unsure about Max. She’d left a bunch behind.

“I think they can decide where they want to live,” Rosemary said softly, “Max said that Susan has a boyfriend. I figured they could all come.” She smiled at Billy, looking like she was excited over all of it.

“I doubt they can afford it,” Billy mumbled underneath his breath as he thought about Susan and Wayne, “Sounds like a full house.” He said louder, uncertain on how he felt about being crammed in the house with all of them. He was sure that if Wayne was coming, then Eddie would be coming too.

“I hope so,” Rosemary replied gleefully, “Kim can bring her boyfriend too. I think it’ll be enjoyable.” She was bouncing as she walked, like the whole idea of it was too much for her to contain in her body. Billy inhaled deeply under his breath, glad that she couldn’t see him as he simmered about her referring to Tommy as Kim’s boyfriend. He knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but the whole situation left him irritated. He wondered if Rosemary disliked him as much as Sam did.

“Or a mess,” Billy told her truthfully, “Don’t these things always end in a mess?” He asked, thinking back to the horror stories that he’d heard people tell when their families were over. He felt like things were too tense on both sides of their families already.

“Families are messy,” She dismissed him, “It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.” She told him with a smile, like she was trying to look on the better side of things. Billy paused, wondering how she’d handle Susan’s critiques of Sam.

“I don’t think Susan likes Sam very well,” Billy drew out softly, “At all.” He clarified after a second as he remembered the way Susan’s eyebrows would knit together in anger as she would grumble under her breath about Sam. Susan hated him. He was almost sure that she hated Sam more than she hated Neil.

“I’ve heard,” Rosemary sighed underneath her breath, “But I’m sure Kim and Max would like for their parents to be together again.” She nodded her head as she continued to grab things and put them into the cart until it was nearly overflowing.

“Maybe.” Billy said softly as he rubbed the back of his neck. He had a feeling that Max wouldn’t care about seeing Susan gain, as she hadn’t even gone to say bye to her. He could see Kim being excited, but then again, he didn’t know how she’d react if her parents began to fight again.

“Do you want to get ice cream after?” She asked hesitantly, the question surprising Billy, “Before we have to pick everyone up?” She spoke slowly, like she was preparing herself for the rejection. Billy looked into her eyes, noticing the amount of hope that was lingering within. He paused for a long time, suddenly feeling like he couldn’t say no. He deserved to make things right, even if he wasn’t quite ready to meet all the way yet.

“Sure,” Billy said as he shrugged his shoulders, “I guess that would be alright.” He began to twist at his rings a bit, having a sudden craving for a cigarette as Rosemary’s features lit up in glee.

Rosemary made little conversations the rest of the day, telling him various things that Billy held onto tightly. He hated how easily he was allowing her to slide back in, how forgiving he was suddenly being suddenly.

“Hey,” The older man paused as he smiled, “Rosemary, is this your oldest? Damn. It’s been a while, son.” Billy paused, unsure of how to respond. He didn’t want to be rude, but he had no idea who he was speaking to.

“Uh, yeah.” He said softly as he glanced towards Rosemary. She was biting back a smile, looking excited again as she looked towards Billy. He gulped hard, cautious as to why she was looking at him with pride in her eyes.

“Richard,” Rosemary laughed softly, “But yes this is Billy. I’ve missed him so much.” She said quietly, almost remorsefully. Billy watched her, wondering if her words were really true.

“Oh I know,” Richard laughed with a roll of his eyes, “She talks about you all the time.” He rolled his dramatically, playfully. Billy’s mouth suddenly felt dry.

“Yeah?” Billy couldn’t help himself as he glanced towards Rosemary, “That’s good.” He admitted a second later as he felt a warmth spreading through him. She looked a little embarrassed as she nodded her head in agreement.

“You can get whatever you want,” She told him quickly, “A chocolate cone for me.” She glanced towards the worker as she began to fumble for the cash from her purse.

“I’ll have the same,” Billy said a second later, “Do you come here a lot?” He asked her once they both had their ice cream cones and were seated by a booth near the window.

“Not as much as we used to,” Rosemary told him, “I took you a lot, then Russell when he was younger. Sam used to take the girls here too. It’s kind of funny how things work out like that.” She said wistfully.

“Yeah,” Billy nodded his head in agreement, “It really is.” He said as he thought about Kim.

////////////////////

He pulled Kim into the backyard, grinning at their secrecy as he pulled her far away from the windows. He needed to feel her, to know that she was still real.

“Missed you,” He mumbled as he traced his hands up her arms softly. He pressed his lips against hers, kissing her deeply as he backed her against the house. She molded her lips against his, melting against him as she placed her palms against his chest, “Mhm.” His words were lost as her lips moved against his harder, savoring the taste on her tongue.

“You taste sweet,” Kim mumbled against his lips as she slowly flicked her tongue inside of his mouth, “Really sweet.” She sighed against his mouth as she licked at the roof of his mouth again.

“Ice cream,” He grinned as he flicked his tongue against hers, “Do you like it?” He asked teasingly as he kept a steady grip on her hips.

“Uh huh,” She mumbled as she gripped his collar and pulled him closer. She wrapped her lips around his tongue, beginning to suck softly as he flicked his tongue inside of her mouth, “I like it.” She giggled softly; her cheeks flushed as he brought his hands up towards her chest. He gripped her tits in his hands, grinning at the way she moaned against his touch.

“Don’t be naughty,” He mocked her quietly, “You don’t want your daddy to hear, do you?” He groaned softly as he continued to feel her up. Her eyes widened at his words.

“Billy,” She blushed hard as she pressed her fingertips into his skin, “You’re the worst.” She giggled softly, her hazel eyes filling with amusement as she observed him.

“I’ll show you how bad later,” He whispered huskily as he pressed his lips against hers one last time, “I’m going to finish your car today.” He told her softly as he slowly pulled his hands away.

“You are?” She grinned as she adjusted the straps on her dress, “Thank you. I still can’t believe I did that.” She mumbled as she tucked her hair behind her ears, looking like she was embarrassed all over again.

“Don’t give yourself a hard time,” He told her as he opened the door for her, doing his best to sneak them back in causally, “I’m sure a lot of people have had that happen.” He reassured her again. Rosemary popped around the corner, beaming from ear to ear.

“So,” Rosemary paused as she bounced up and down on her feet, “Russell would really like to help you with the car.” Kim pursed her lips together; smiling deeply as she sent him a coy wave. He glanced away from her quickly, fearing that Rosemary would notice where his eyes lingered.

“He has no idea what he’s doing.” He did his best not to grumble but found himself growing irritated anyways. He didn’t know why Russell was so determined to work with him in the first place.

“You could teach him,” She said hopefully, “Only if you want to do it.” She added a second later, but still held a glimmer of hope in his eyes. He wondered if she would’ve made him work with Russell had things been different. Billy recognized the familiarity suddenly between him and her, and Sam and Kim. Sam didn’t want to upset Kim, the same way Rosemary didn’t want to upset Billy. He had a feeling he could get away with a lot if he let himself.

“Alright,” Billy sighed deeply, “Just tell him to meet me out there.” He sighed as he scratched his fingers against his elbow. Her face brightened like the sun.

“Oh thank you,” She said excitedly, “He’s going to be so happy.” She grinned as she walked down the hallway. Billy allowed himself to drop his face into his hands and grumble loudly before he left towards the garage.

He gathered what he needed, which wasn’t a lot. He was in the last steps of finishing her car, well, he hoped he was. He really wouldn’t know what the damage was until he started it again with fresh oil.

“Hey,” Russell grinned as he approached Billy, “What are we doing?” He asked, sounding a little too excited. Billy chewed on his bottom lip, pausing as he counted to ten in his head. He reminded himself that Russell was no different than the kids he’d teach at the pool. He was just slightly older.

“Tightening this up,” Billy mumbled once he looked back towards Russell, “It shouldn’t take long, then her car should hopefully be fixed.” He said a second later, hoping that this wouldn’t mean that Russell would talk his ear off.

“How do you know?” Russell said curiously as he slowly leaned forward to watch him. Billy chewed on his bottom lip, trying to figure out the easiest way to explain it to him.

“We’ll flush it and then fill it up with gas and see if it runs.” He said briefly as he straightened out again, glancing towards the engine once last time. He craned his neck a little bit, suddenly feeling like his shoulders were stiff.

“Oh,” Russell nodded his head like he understood, “Cool.” He said softly as he held his arms together. He looked a little distant, like he wasn’t sure how to approach Billy. Billy felt a little bad, irritated at himself for being so off-standish.

“Can you hand me the torque wrench?” Billy asked as he leaned further into the engine. He waited for a second before he turned to watch Russell scrambling inside of the toolbox, “Not that one. No, no. That one.” He said, trying his best not to grow frustrated. Russell grinned sheepishly as he finally handed him the correct one.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Russell questioned a few minutes later as he observed the way Billy worked on reconnecting some of the tubes and wires. Billy could feel a bead of sweat beginning to drip down his back as the sun warmed his skin.

“Mhm.” Billy mumbled in response, knowing he couldn’t go into too many details. He didn’t want to accidentally expose him and Kim, knowing that it might get messy. He wasn’t sure that Rosemary would be very happy with their situation.

“That’s cool,” Russell nodded his head, “I hope when I’m older, I have a partner that’s as nice as Kim.” He said almost dreamily. The comparison to Kim took Billy by surprise as he quickly turned, jerking his head forward and smacking it against the top of the hood.

“Fuck!” Billy cursed as he rubbed the top of his head, groaning deeply as the pain shot down his neck and spine. He paced back and forth, breathing roughly as he tried to numb the pain down to a gentle throb. Russell was staring at him with wide blue eyes, his lips parted like he was unsure of what to say.

“Are you okay?” Russell asked a second later, looking worried as he stepped forward towards Billy. Billy held his hand out, determined to keep a distance between them as he finally dropped his hand from his wounded head.

“What did you say?” He knitted his eyebrows in confusion as he looked towards Russell, sure that he had heard him wrong. Russell paused for a moment, still holding some of the wrenches in his hands.

“What?” He knitted his eyebrows in the same manner, looking just as confused as Billy as he questioned him. Billy sighed deeply.

“Do you have a crush on Kim?” He asked him quickly, unsure of why he was making such a big deal about it. He couldn’t imagine having Russell trying to stick his nose in their business all the time.

“No,” Russell protested quickly as his face began to burn a dark red, “I just meant that she’s nice.” He defended himself quickly. Something about his humiliated demeanor left Billy thinking otherwise.

“She’s your stepsister, you shouldn’t think that.” Billy was partially teasing him this time, knowing that he was being a hypocrite this time around. He just didn’t like the idea of sharing Kim with anyone.

“I don’t,” Russell said again, sounding more defiant, “All I said was that she was nice. You’re the one who spun it a different way.” He said loudly, protesting as his face continued to burn brightly. Billy felt a sense of amusement rising within his chest.

“No,” Billy told him quickly, “You said you want your girlfriend to be nice like Kim.” He chuckled softly as he adjusted the hood of the car again. He mumbled underneath his breath, irritated at how he’d smacked his head into it.

“Partner.” Russell mumbled underneath his breath as he joined Billy again. Billy glanced towards him.

“What?”

“I said partner.” Russell shrugged his shoulders as he clarified the word again. Billy looked at him curiously, unsure of what the big difference in the words were. Girlfriend and partner were just a synonym for each other for as far as he was concerned. He shook his head, figuring that Russell was just being difficult.

“What difference does that make?” Billy snorted as he looked back down at the lines he’d been working on in Kim’s engine. He glanced towards Russell as he remained quiet, “What? Are you some sort of faggot?” He meant it in a teasing manner, the same way guys would call each other in the locker rooms. It didn’t come out that way.

The harsh tone and cruel word slipped off of his tongue before he could stop himself. He immediately recognized the dejected look that spread across Russell’s features and how his blue eyes grew wide with hurt.

“Hey,” Billy straightened up instantly, nearly hitting his head against the hood of Kim’s car again, “I didn’t mean-,” He began to explain himself, but Russell took off in a flurry of tears. Guilt settled deep inside of Billy’s gut as he cursed to himself, unsure of why he’d even said it in the first place. All he could think of was Neil suddenly, how he really was just like his dad.

He paused for a second as he dropped the wrenches into the toolbox, cursing to himself as he managed to make everything go so south. He crossed the pavement before he stepped into the garage, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts before he reached for the door.

“Hey,” Sam stopped Billy at the door, his usually calm features pulled together tightly in anger, “I know people use that word a lot but that’s not allowed in this household.” He said sternly, like he had some authority over Billy. He was taken aback for a moment, surprised that Russell would snitch on him so quickly.

“It was a joke,” Billy said with a laugh as he tried to defend himself, “I know he’s not one. It was teasing him.” He did his best to brush the situation off, but he still felt the guilt growing deeper and deeper inside of his bones. He’d clearly struck a nerve.

“What’s funny about it?” Sam looked at him seriously, “Maybe you can explain it to me because I don’t get it.” He crossed his arms as he waited, looking grim about getting a straight answer. Billy paused and opened his mouth, then shut it again. His thoughts raced as he tried to think of a defense, but he knew in Sam’s mind there wouldn’t be one.

“It’s just a dumb word.” He said again as he shrugged his shoulders. He calculated Sam, waiting for him to reach forward and smack the side of his face. Sam was clearly upset, but apparently not upset enough to hit Billy. He still felt the side of his face tingle with anticipation.

“Hurtful,” Sam corrected, “So please, don’t use it in this house or direct it at anyone else living underneath this roof.” He said a second later as he exhaled deeply. The garage was filled with a solemn silence as Billy tried to make sense of the situation.

“Is it true?” Billy tilted his head, “Is he-?” He cut off his own question, unsure if it was the right time to ask that or not. Billy couldn’t think of another reason as to why Russell would be so upset. He was sure it had to be true.

“Does it matter?” Sam asked seriously as he pushed his glasses up over the bridge of his nose, “I’d appreciate it if you apologized to him.” The stern chip in his tone was gone, replaced by the same softness that Billy was used to. He was surprised at his demeanor, but perhaps it was different because it was him. He was sure he hadn’t seen Sam approach the other three in this way.

“Okay,” Billy replied as he nodded his head in agreement, “I’ll talk to him.” He promised, although he already had plans to do so. He watched as Sam nodded his head in return before turning back towards the door.

Sam walked away, heading back inside as he left Billy to his own thoughts. Billy paused for a minute, almost feeling like he didn’t deserve to go back inside. He shuffled around in the garage for a moment before he finally gained the courage to walk inside.

Sam was nowhere to be seen in the living room as Billy walked inside, glancing at where the new pictures were hanging up high on the walls. Billy chewed on his bottom lip, following the trail of music into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Billy asked, looking at Rosemary curiously as the loud sound of the blender carried over into the living room.

“Oh,” Rosemary paused as she halted the blender, “Well, Kim doesn’t seem to like vegetables so I’m going to see if she notices if it’s all mixed together.” She whispered softly, glancing around as if Kim may be lingering about.

“Smart idea,” Billy snorted to himself as he watched her. He sighed deeply as he tapped his fingers against the table. He started with three beats, then did two. Then went back to three, “How do I make your son feel better?”

“He likes to swim,” Rosemary sighed as she inhaled deeply to turn to look at him, “He’s wanted to learn how to surf but never learned. I think he was hoping his big brother would teach him.” She bit her lip softly, looking a little hopeful about the subject. He watched her closely, wondering if Russell had come crying to her too.

“Oh.” Billy breathed out, unsure of how to handle that revelation. He wasn’t sure how to feel, what the best way to respond would be. He had been so sure that Rosemary had never spoken or thought of him, and now that questioned his ideas.

“He really wants you to like him,” Rosemary said softly, “I know things are difficult between us, but Russell had nothing to do with that. I didn’t pick him over you, I swear. You don’t have to blame him for anything.” Billy felt his eyebrows knitting together as he felt the defense forming on his tongue again.

“I’m not.” He told her quickly. He couldn’t help that Russell had a different personality than him. He was bubblier and more talkative. It was a lot to adjust to.

“I think if you just talked to him, he’d really like that,” She paused as she mixed the green mixture into the red sauce, “I bet he’d really love it if you took him for a ride in your car. Maybe get a soda?” She suggested with a shrug of her shoulders. Billy paused, figuring it was good that it wasn’t anything too expensive.

“Alright,” Billy said softly, “I’ll work it out.” He promised as he walked away from her. He breathed out deeply, still feeling the heavy weight of guilt resting tightly on top of his chest. He passed by Kim’s room quietly, not wanting to disturb her and drag her into this situation either.

He walked down the hallway, pausing in front of the door that held a poster of the Transformers on his door. Billy closed his eyes before he pushed it open, his eyes greeted with the image of Russell hiding underneath his green blankets. Billy closed the door behind him as he stepped forward.

“Hey,” Billy nudged his leg softly but was greeted with silence. He did it again, but Russell only wiggled away this time, “Hey. Shitbird. I’m talking to you.” He told him seriously as he tried to tug the blankets off of him.

“Go away.” Russell grumbled into his pillow dramatically. Billy sighed as he held his fingers together. Usually when Max was upset he just let her ride out the storm, but Russell seemed more sensitive. He had a feeling this wouldn’t just pass on its own.

“I was just teasing you,” He told him, trying to lower the irritation that was growing in his voice, “I didn’t really mean that you’re a-,” He inhaled deeply, “It doesn’t matter anyways. Let’s go get a drink.” He suggested softly as he poked Russell’s sides softly. Russell whined as he hid himself away again.

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” Russell pouted as Billy gently pulled the cover back from his face. He observed the way Russell hid himself deeper into the pillow, like he could eventually disappear entirely.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want,” Billy reassured as he sat at the edge of the bed, making the mattress slightly dip from his weight, “Come on. I’m sorry.” He told him seriously, really feeling bad for what he did. He felt like a total dick.

“Why would you say that?” Russell asked as he faced Billy, his eyebrows knitting tightly together as he searched for answers. Billy felt bad again, not having any true answers for him either. He didn’t know why he did the things that he did.

“I don’t know,” Billy told him truthfully, “I shouldn’t have. It was wrong for me to say.” He admitted, hoping that Russell would take him seriously. Russell sat up a little bit and rested his chin on his hands as he thought it over.

“We can go anywhere?” He questioned slowly as he brought his eyes back to face Billy again. Billy chewed on his bottom lip, wondering if he’d pick somewhere dorky.

“Yeah,” Billy replied lightly as guilt continued to swirl inside of his stomach, “Just say wherever.” He told him softly as Russell sat up in the bed. He leaned a little closer, sitting near Billy like he didn’t believe him.

“There’s this place that makes really good ice cream floats,” Russell suggested slowly, “Can we go there?” He asked as excitement filled his blue eyes. Billy pursed his lips, almost unsure if he could handle an outing with just Russell. He knew he at least owed him that.

“Sure,” Billy breathed in, “Come on.” He told him as he stood up. Russell stood just as fast, following Billy along so close that it felt like Billy had grown an extra body. Rosemary gave them both a big thumbs up as they walked by the living room, looking just as excited as what Russell did.

The drive wasn’t very far, but the car ride was awkward. Russell was quieter than usual, which worried Billy. He feared that he really had messed things up. Billy felt a tingling sensation growing inside of his fingertips and he wondered if his cigarettes would be enough to stall it.

“This it?” Billy asked him curiously as he parked the car. The shop was fairly small, but looked busy by the amount of cars that lingered outside of the building. He hoped that it would be worth it, that Russell would enjoy himself.

“Yeah,” Russell glanced towards him, “Dad takes me here sometimes.” Billy paused as he followed Russell inside the store, feeling a few things weigh on his mind. He couldn’t ever remember Neil mentioning having another son, which was odd to him. Billy wondered if Neil had been right about Rosemary cheating.

“How long have you been calling him dad?” Billy asked curiously, wondering if Sam had left to be with Russell and Rosemary instead. He supposed the timelines could fit together in a messy manner. He hoped that wasn’t the case.

“He’s the only dad I’ve ever known,” Russell shrugged his shoulders, “Does that bother you?” He asked a second later, looking curious as he peered up towards Billy. Billy paused as he thought that question over.

“No,” Billy frowned as he shook his head, “Just curious.” He told him a second later as they approached the booth. Russell tapped his fingertips against the counter as they waited, his lips moving silently to the sound of the radio playing overhead.

“Can I get a root beer float?” Russell asked, almost hesitant as he glanced between the worker and Billy. Billy shrugged his shoulders, not really caring what he got.

“I’ll take a beer,” Billy said as he glanced towards the menu, “Is there a problem?” He asked a second later as the worker continued to stare at him.

“Do you have an ID?” The worker asked, knitting his eyebrows together tightly. Billy was slightly taken aback at the question, feeling like he hadn’t been asked that in some time.

“Yeah,” Billy paused as he reached into his wallet. He stumbled for a moment before he pushed the fake one towards him, “One beer.” He repeated again.

“Alright,” The worker mumbled under his breath after examining it for a minute, “There you go.” He brushed them off as he passed the two drinks over. Russell reached for his drink in excitement, his blue eyes shining bright again.

“Thank you,” Billy said politely as he turned away, “Do you want to sit outside?” He asked as he examined the packed booths and tables on the inside.

“I guess,” Russell paused a second later, “Have you seen it snow before?” He asked curiously as he made his way outside. Billy breathed in the sight of the sun for a moment, hoping that Russell didn’t think he was allowing them to bring these into his car. He couldn’t imagine how long it would take to clean the ice cream out if it fell.

“Yeah,” Billy licked his bottom lip as he joined Russell on the bench, “It got really cold in Indiana. The roads were all covered in ice and shit.” He explained as he thought back to the memory. He wouldn’t miss driving on those roads, that was for sure.

“Sounds gross,” Russell grinned, “I think I’d like to make a snowman.” He said softly as he began to drink through his straw. Billy thought about it for a moment, unsure if he ever cared to make a snowman again. It was too cold, too bitter.

“Not any different than making one out of sand,” Billy paused for a second, “Do you want to learn how to surf?” He asked him softly, distracting himself by drinking from his beer. He held it against his lips, enjoying the taste that lingered in his mouth. The lack of alcohol within the house was beginning to drive him crazy.

“Yeah,” Russell looked up in excitement, “Can you teach me?” He questioned Bily quickly as a hopeful look spread across his features. Billy observed him for the longest time, knowing that he couldn’t deny Russell his request.

“Sure,” Billy nodded his head softly, “I need to teach Max how to swim. I can teach you how to surf.” He thought about it as he bounced the ideas back and forth in his mind. He supposed it wouldn’t be that bad. It would keep him busy, keep his mind off of everything else that was bothering him.

“Bitchin’.” Russell grinned as he licked the ice cream from the corner of his lips. Billy felt his own smile tugging onto his lips as he quickly brought his drink back to his lips. Russell watched him with a curious eye.

“Do you want to try it?” He asked as he held the beer towards Russell. He wrinkled his nose as he shook his head. He looked a little disgusted, like it was something gross. Billy was sure everyone thought that with their first drink.

“Nope.” Russell shook his head as he took another large gulp from his cup. He darted his eyes back towards Billy’s cup curiously, taking a second glance at the beer that was within it.

“Are you sure?” Billy asked as he raised his eyebrows. He swirled the liquid around dramatically, watching as Russell slightly narrowed his eyes at it. He leaned forward suddenly.

“Well,” Russell paused as he took it in his hand, “You won’t tell mom or dad?” He asked cautiously, looking like Billy was setting him up for a test. Billy grinned as he nodded his head.

“My lips are sealed.” He promised him, watching as Russell stared down at the cup again. He looked like he was debating it as he glanced towards Billy. He looked like he was panicking for a moment, as if he was worried about what Billy was thinking about him.

“Okay,” Russell said with uncertainty as he pulled the cup up towards his lips. He took an experimental sip before he leaned over, pushing the can back into Billy’s hands as he spit the beer all into the dirt, “Gross!” He dramatically wiped his hand against his tongue, looking like he was seconds away from gagging.

“It’s not that bad,” Billy shrugged him off as he took another gulp, “You get used to it.” He grinned to himself, enjoying the horrified look that Russell sent him. Perhaps Russell wouldn’t follow down Billy’s same path. Then again, Billy didn’t enjoy the taste of beer the first time he had tasted it either.

“No thanks,” Russell mumbled, “We’re not supposed to be drinking anyways.” He said a second later, looking panicked like he was regretting his decision. Billy cocked an eyebrow as he took another drink.

“In the house,” Billy corrected him, “This is outside the house.” He told him softly, trying to reassure him. Russell paused for a moment as he took another large sip from his drink. He nodded his head a second later, looking more relaxed.

“I guess you’re right,” Russell shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t like it though. Mom wouldn’t let me see dad when he was drinking.” He admitted softly, surprising Billy for a moment. He was sure that Sam wouldn’t have allowed Rosemary or Russell to see him in that state.

“What was he like?” Billy asked curiously, wondering how bad Sam could get. From the way Kim talked, it sounded like he was rarely there at all.

“Different,” Russell said at last, “Not mean but just not there. Does that make sense?” He questioned Billy a second later. He crossed his legs on the bench, looking to be deep in thought for a second.

“Yeah,” Billy said as he took another swig of his beer, “Makes perfect sense.” He said a second later as he fell into his own thoughts for a moment. They settled into a comfortable silence as Billy found himself wondering about their conversation earlier and back to the hurtful word he’d thrown at him.

“Is there someone you like?” Billy asked softly, remembering the way Russell had questioned him about having a girlfriend. He tapped his fingertip against the rim of his cup before he was brave enough to glance at Russell again.

“Not really,” Russell shrugged his shoulders, “Not right now I guess.” He said a second later as he glanced away from Billy. He used his straw to pick up the ice cream that had begun to melt at the bottom of the cup.

“How do you know then?” Billy lowered his voice as he asked the question, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer. He felt like this situation brought up too many memories for him. He wondered if Russell was just confused, the same way he was sure he’d been.

“I don’t know,” He said quietly as his cheeks began to pinken, “I just know I guess.” He pushed his hair out of his face, looking like he was a little uncomfortable with the subject. Billy chewed on his bottom lip., deciding to keep from pressing the issue any further. He didn’t want to upset Russell again.

“Mom and Sam know?” Billy asked his final question, but he was fairly certain that he already knew the answer to that. Sam certainly knew and he was sure that such a secret couldn’t go past Rosemary’s knowledge.

“I guess,” He mumbled as he dragged his sneaker across the dirt, “It’s not like they openly say it.” He told him quickly as he looked over towards Billy again. Billy sighed deeply, wishing there was a way to reassure him.

“I really didn’t mean to call you that,” Billy told him truthfully, “I don’t know why I said it, I shouldn’t have. But I didn’t mean it.” He apologized to him, hoping that Russell could fully forgive him. Russell began to tap his fingertips against the table, like he had to keep his fingers busy at all times.

“It’s okay,” Russell said as he nodded his head with a smile. Billy watched, catching a gleam of chocolate in each corner of his lips, “I know you didn’t.” Billy sent him a smile back, suddenly thinking that it was good that Neil never got to know Russell.

Billy found that Russell liked the same music that he did and that when he really got onto a subject that he liked, he talked twice as fast and moved his hands at the speed of lightning. Billy was almost beginning to regret giving him sugar in the first place. He felt slightly better though, feeling that things were now fine between the two of them.

“Good, just in time for dinner,” Rosemary said as she kissed both sides of Russell’s cheeks, “Oh, boy. You made a mess.” She mumbled as she began to scrub the corners of his lips.

“Mom!” Russell protested in embarrassment as he glanced back towards Billy, “It’s fine.” He moaned in humiliation as he quickly pulled away from her. Billy shrugged his shoulders softly.

“Oh, I used to do the same thing to Billy,” She shrugged Russell off as she pointed towards the table. She smiled brightly as she looked towards Billy hopefully, “How’d it go?” She looked at him curiously as she tilted her head. Billy sighed softly.

“S’alright,” Billy said softly, “Everything is fine.” He told her truthfully, feeling like he had a better understanding of Russell now. He was sure that he’d still get irritated by the younger boy, but hopefully he could control that anger from now on.

“Good,” She smiled as she squeezed his arm, “That’s so good to hear.” She said quickly as she rubbed her fingertips across his skin. Billy watched her for a moment, suddenly feeling like he was overwhelmed.

“I’m starving,” He said as an excuse to get her hand off of his skin, “It smells good.” He told her truthfully as he walked towards the table. Kim looked up towards him, a dreamy look held in her eyes as she followed his movements.

“It looks amazing,” Max observed as she leaned over the table, “Do you think mom could learn from these recipes?” Billy fought everything in himself to keep from snorting, but apparently Sam wasn’t strong enough. He coughed, his cheeks reddening as he tried to cover the sound up.

“Allergies.” He said simply as he raised his glass of water to his lips. Billy did his best to keep from laughing, knowing that he was lying. He wondered suddenly if Sam had ever tried to cook.

“I’m sure with practice,” Kim said reassuringly, being as kind as usual, “It does look nice.” She said as she leaned forward to cut a serving off for herself.

“Kim, hold on just a second,” Rosemary paused as she leaned over the table to cut a certain piece out, “This is your lasagna. No vegetables.” She reassured her quickly.

“Oh, thanks,” Kim smiled brightly as she nodded her head and took a small bite, “It’s good.” She told Rosemary honestly as she picked off another piece. Billy glanced down towards the table, biting back a grin as Rosemary sent him a wink.

Dinner was almost normal in a way that he wasn’t used to. Dinners with Neil were always quiet, tense as Billy constantly wondered if he’d chew or breathe too loud. Neil usually tried to pray at least before dinner and was big on table manners. It was odd for him to watch Sam keep his elbows on the table and Russell sit in odd positions as he freely reached for seconds. Not to mention that the food was still edible. He was waiting for Rosemary to cook something bad, but it had yet to come.

He waited in his bed far after, until he was sure that everyone else was sleeping. He crept down the hallway, feeling a dire need to see Kim. He hadn’t seen her much at all today and felt that so many things had happened. He felt the need to share with her, to question if things really were turning out okay.

“Hi,” He mumbled as he dropped his chin onto the crook of Kim’s shoulder, “Can’t sleep?” He asked her softly as he began to draw circles onto her stomach. He moved his hands down to her nightgown, slowly tugging it up so he could press his skin against her own.

“My mind is wandering,” She said at last as he continued to draw shapes against her flesh, “I just can’t stop thinking.” She replied as she knitted her eyebrows tightly together. He moved forward to kiss in between her eyes.

“What about?” He asked her gently as he pulled away. He began to twist her hair around his fingertips, admiring how soft it felt in his free hand. She tilted her head against the pillow as she glanced up towards him.

“I tried to call my mom earlier,” She admitted slowly, “They said she was busy. I assume that means she doesn’t want to speak?” Her tone was broken up, her eyes averting away from him quickly. He frowned deeply, hoping he could lessen the blow.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Billy said as he gently tucked her hair behind her ear, “Maybe she really is just busy.” He told her hopefully, but was unsure of his own words. He wasn’t sure why Susan would be ignoring Kim, but figured that there had to be some type of reason.

“Maybe,” Kim said wistfully as she inhaled deeply, “I miss her.” She admitted sorrowfully. He looked down at her softly, feeling guilty that she was going through such a thing. He still felt like the majority of the reason Susan got so bad had to do with him anyways.

“I know,” He admitted as he kissed the tip of her nose, “Let me get your mind off of it.” He teased her gently as he knocked her onto her back. She giggled, looking up at him amused as he slowly pressed her legs apart. He rubbed his fingertips across her knees, slowly dragging his fingers down her milky thighs.

She breathed out, her eyes gleaming as she looked down upon him. He grinned as he slowly traced his fingertips across her wet panties, enjoying the way a soft moan fell from her lips. He slowly pressed down on her clit, rubbing it in soft circles before she slowly joined him with the movements of her hips.

He grinned as he pressed his lips against her knee, enjoying how she was always so eager to feel more. He pressed down on her clit a little harder, enacting a louder sound from her lips. He glanced up at her again, teasingly using his free index finger to shush her. She slightly pouted her lips out as she knitted her eyebrows together, looking a little desperate as he moved his hands away to pull her panties down her long legs.

“You’re so pretty,” He told her seriously as he held her legs far apart. She squirmed underneath him, looking like she wanted to shy away but he wouldn’t let her. He loved every dip and curve to her body, like she had been sculpted specifically for him, “Dirty whore.” He told her a second later, enjoying the way her eyes widened before he stuck his tongue out against her wet folds.

He licked around her cunt slowly, savoring the taste of her on his tongue as he used languid movements. He moved the same way he’d kissed her earlier; sloppy and slow. He slowly moved his hands down to her thighs, giving them a slight squeeze before he pushed them up towards her chest so he could have easier access.

“Oh God,” She mumbled, her voice slightly cut off from the pressure he was placing on top of her, “Don’t stop.” She whimpered out as one of her hands messily found the back of his head. He traced his tongue along her clit softly and slowly before he repeated the motions with more force. She squirmed underneath him, her pretty moans filling the bedroom as he continued to drag his tongue along her pretty pussy.

He could feel his cock stirring in his briefs as he began to lightly press his own hips down into her mattress. He felt a groan rolling off of his tongue as he licked away her slick. He moved his tongue a little more desperately as he dipped it inside of her tight hole, enjoying the way her walls fluttered around him.

He tightened his grip around her thighs, squeezing them as he languidly stroked her wet walls with his tongue. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, feeling drunk on the taste of her. He felt special in knowing that he was the only one who had ever gotten this far with her, that he would be the only one to ever have her in this way.

He pulled away suddenly, the gears in his mind twisting as he let her legs drop onto the mattress and crawled over her. He pressed his wet lips against hers roughly, stroking his tongue against her own as he invited her in for a taste. He gripped the back of her neck, pulling her closer as he began to rock his hips up against her.

She breathed out against his lips, her tongue briefly darting against his as she roughly began to tug his briefs down. She did so just enough to free his hard cock, her cool fingers quickly wrapping around his thick girth. He exhaled sharply, feeling a rise in his temperature as she began to drag her hand up and down his length. He moved his fingers back between her legs, ghosting them over her clit before he slowly slid them inside of her walls.

She gaped, her body jerking forward as he pumped two of them in and out of her. He moved them to the beat of her rhythm, following the same languid strokes that she pressed onto his cock. He slowly rolled his hips up, his cock aching to feel more of her grip around him.

“Mhm,” She squeaked out, her body jerking against his touch as he curled his fingers deep inside of her. Her head fell back against the pillows roughly, her grip around him stalling a bit before she picked it up again. She turned to face him, a moan forming on her tongue as she pumped him rougher in her hand, “Right there.” She pleaded with him desperately as she continued to roll her hips against the length of his fingers.

He moved his head down towards her, capturing her moans against his mouth as he kissed her again. He craved the feeling of her against him, of hearing her cry out for him. He slowly rocked forward against her hand, but focused more and more on how to make her feel good. He licked the inside of her mouth again, his mind spinning at the loud sound from her that vibrated across his lips.

“Billy,” She sighed in bliss, moving her head up towards him as her bottom lip dragged against his, “You make me feel so good.” She mumbled as she continued to grind her hips against his thick fingers. He looked down in interest as he watched his fingers dip in and out of her wet cunt.

He rested his head against hers again, closing his eyes softly as she continued to stroke him roughly in her hand. He could feel the pleasure forming in the base of his stomach, swimming harshly as he tried to focus on how she felt around him. He could feel his high growing nearer and nearer as she pumped him a little rougher, squeezed him a little harder as he continued to pump his fingers inside of her cunt.

He pressed inside of her deeper, determined to feel her fall apart first as he held his fingertips against her spongy walls. She squirmed, her legs kicking out as she pressed her hips up higher in the air. He kept the movements of his fingers the same as he kissed her once again, silencing her cries of pleasure as she came around his digits.

He licked at her mouth once again, hoping he could taste her sounds as her walls clamped down around his fingers. He continued to pump them slowly, his own mind feeling fuzzy as he began to fuck himself against her hand. He pulled his fingers out at once, feeling a little more desperate as he wrapped his wet hand along her own and took control of her movements.

“Such a slutty sister,” He huffed against her swollen lips, enjoying the way the flush settled across her skin. He groaned as his cock throbbed in her hand, his own words rocking him to the edge as he roughly thrusted forward, “Fuck, fuck.” He spit out as quietly as he could manage, his breath stalling in his chest as he coated her abdomen with globs of his spunk.

His head fell against hers again, his heart racing to the same beat as hers as he tried to collect his breath with her. She inhaled deeply, pressing her chest up towards his as she stared up at him. He felt a grin forming on his lips as he leaned down to gently press a kiss against each corner of her lips.

He used the fingers that had been inside of her to scoop up his cum, dragging his motions out slowly to ensure that she was watching him. Her eyes stayed glued to him, widening as he brought them up to his lips. He teasingly tasted their mixture on his tongue before leaning over to press his lips against hers once again. He kissed her slow, dirty as they swapped the mixture of the two of them back and forth.

She moaned against his lips, her fingers finding his sides as she deepened it. She tasted him like it was the last thing she’d ever taste. He sighed as she sucked on his tongue and began to slightly wonder if she thought he tasted better than all of those sweets that she was obsessed with.

“I love you.” She breathed out quickly a second later, her eyes still wide and full of lust. He felt a grin form on his own lips as he teasingly licked against her mouth again. She breathed in deeply as she held onto him.

“I love you too.” He reassured her as he tucked her hair behind her ears. She nodded her head, looking relieved as she pulled him closer.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove stepcest #tw stepcest #tw pseudocest #stepcest #billy hargrove x original character #Dancing in the Dark

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hazbin-college · 1 year ago

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The V’s

“Vox! Val!” The shout rang down the hallway from the living room, tone scolding and aggravated “get your asses out here now!”

It didn’t take long for the two other residents to come out of their own respective rooms. Vox in his causal oversized clothes, curly hair a mess atop his head.

While Valentino was already dressed in pajamas, silky shorts that barely covered what they needed and a half hanging off similar materiel shirt. His longer pink hair tied back loosely with a scrunchy

“What?? I was studying” Vox scowled, his arms crossing while he looked down towards his much shorter roommate. Who was holding a pair of pants. Hey, that kind of looked like his pants-

He wasn’t able to finish that thought before the pants were chucked at his face, causing him to stumble back

“For god’s sake you own a laundry basket!” Velvette snapped, her nose scrunching “want to know where I found that? Not the laundry! Or even in your room! If you two can’t keep your fuckin pants on while you’re sucking face on the couch at least bring a fucking hamper out here! I don’t want your crusty over used, under washed, jizz covered pants on the fucking floor!” Her voice only rose in volume the longer she ranted, taking a much needed gulp of air after she stopped, but otherwise looking completely composed.

“Ooooh, you’re in trouble~” Val purred towards Vox, wiggling his fingers at him. But the vocalization merely got hazel eyes snapped towards him. And he immediately shut his mouth

“And. You.” Vel growled, pointing an accusatory finger at the much too tall man “just because you leave less piss stained clothes behind doesn’t mean you’re off the hook!” She narrowed her eyes. Before pointing towards the kitchen “you need to wash your fucking dishes! Just because I’m the only one who knows how to be reasonably clean in this house does not mean I’m your fucking housewife. Every time I see a fucking three day old plate in that sink you dumped in from your room, I will break one of your precious decorative weapons and put the broken fucking plastic in your lube” she sneered. A low satisfaction warming her chest at the way Val’s eyes widened. Her threats were never empty. She would do it.

“Now that we have that out of the way” she says, taking a calming breath “next time you both decided to have a bang sesh. Either do it when I’m out. Or do it quietly. I don’t need to hear Val moaning for his daddy at three AM when I’m studying for an exam. Next time I hear it, I’m recording and posting it” she gave a patronizing grin after she finished speaking, crossing her arms over her chest “any questions?”

“Uh, yeah. How come you get to make all the rules. You aren’t the landlord” Vox scoffed, waving Velvette off “I pay my portion of rent I should be able to leave my pants where I fucking want”

Velvette’s eye twitched. She could not stand living with these two idiots. She clasped her hands together in front of her “okay! Guess I’ll start rubbing my bare ass all over your bed and leaving my dirty fucking tampons on the floor. How does that sound smartass?”

“Gross! What the fuck Vel!” Valentino piped up this time, scrunching his nose

“Yeah, that’s not the same. Keep your gross girl shit to yourself” Vox huffed, rolling his eyes

“I swear to god I’m going to shit in your fucking coffee” Vel could feel her very limited patience growing thinner, her glare narrowing towards Vox “I’m going to say this in a very simple way” she started, folding her hands together and taking a step closer to Vox “next time I find any of your clothes out of your room. I’m burning them. And then bringing the ashes back here and rubbing it in your fuckin eyes” she took another breath, pinching the bridge if her nose “god why did I agree to room with two fucking dudes you both are so disgusting” she muttered to herself.

She spun around on her heel before either could say anything, throwing a hand up “I’m going out! Your boy toy Angel posted on his insta about a party tonight. I expect the place to be fucking clean when I’m back, later fuckers!” She threw up a middle finger for good measure, slamming the door closed behind her

The two boys were left standing in the living room, glancing at each other before towards whatever mess might be around the living space

“…. We should probably do what she says” Vox piped up

“Yeah I really don’t want my next hookup to be ruined by plastic in the lube” Val shivered at the idea, moving to start picking up the mess he had definitely left in the kitchen earlier that day.

#froot’s hazbin college #hazbin hotel au #Vox Valentino and Velvette #the v’s #college au #Vox and Val are two idiots but we love them #Vel has to put up with so much #havent posted in a hot minute cause I got busy with cosplay #try to do more cause I love them

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sajirah · 1 year ago

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The Prison Chapter Six

Blood Sacrifice

-o0o-

One again, you can read this here or on AO3. Enjoy.

-o0o-

There was something wrong.

He knew there something wrong. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, lingering just out of reach.

He was so tired though. The sun was still up. Surely it could wait until nightfall…

-o0o-

She heard him long before she saw him.

It was hard not to what with him crashing through the underbrush for the last half hour.

So Feyre sat huddled underneath the skeleton of her long dead monster companion, clutching her knife in a death grip and hoping against hope he wouldn’t notice her.

This worked well right up until it didn’t.

“I can see you in there.”

She tensed up immediately.

“You might as well come out,” the man continued. “I promise not to hurt you.”

Shockingly, Feyre found that quite hard to believe all things considered.

“I think not,” she replied cooly. “You’re more than welcome to be on your way. Otherwise I won’t hesitate to stab you.”

She glared fiercely as the man crouched down into view, just out of reach. He wasn’t really anything to write home about. Middle aged, with the kind of graying hair and nondescript features that probably led to him floating through life mostly unnoticed. He wore the same blue shirt and canvas trousers all the prisoners were given before being shipped off and dumped here, though his were clearly newer and in better shape than hers (how long had she been here now? A week? A month?).

A new prisoner then.

“I’m warning you-”

“I won’t come closer. See?” He held his hands up in a non-threatening manner, as if that truly meant anything to her in a place like this. Feyre wasn’t stupid. She was very likely the only woman on this island. She was both prize and prey to any man stupid and bold enough to venture this far inland.

“I see you’re new here,” she said eyes flicking over his far less bedraggled uniform. “Word of advice. Don’t harass a lady when she tells you she’s not interested.”

“Now what makes you think I’m new here? Perhaps I’ve always been here and we never crossed paths?”

Feyre snorted. “You must think I’m very dumb.”

“Alright, so I’m new,” he agreed smoothly. “Even more reason for us to be friends.”

“I don’t want any friends.”

“Allies then.”

“I don’t want those either.”

“Surely you need some help, pretty thing like you,” the man argued, though Feyre had a hard time believing she looked particularly ‘pretty’ under the layers of grime she’d accumulated in her time here. If anything she likely looked more animal than human these days. “After all, I know you’re the only female prisoner to have been sent to this island for the last 30 years. And the last one was an old woman who I doubt is still alive by now.”

She startled. “…How would you know that?”

“The same way I know there’s something on this island I’d very much like to avoid.” The man smiled blandly. “Ah yes, I see you know what I’m talking about. Good. Then we can help each other.”

“What makes you think I want to help you?”

“Haven’t you ever wondered why we dump criminals on this island?”

“No.” Yes.

“You don’t think it’s strange to ship criminals off to a remote island and dump them there when we have a perfectly good prison system on the mainland?”

She had wondered that, but she also wasn’t about to let him know that so she just glared at the man and tightened the grip on her knife until her knuckles ached.

“You see,” he began, groaning as he shuffled out of his crouch to sit properly on the ground. “Oh yes, that’s better. You see, this island always was strange. People always lived here but it was mostly used as a waypoint for ships crossing the ocean. A refueling station if you will.”

Feyre didn’t bother to point out that she knew all this already, just letting him run his mouth as she eyed the horizon line and the sun slowly sinking towards it.

“But those port towns never lasted long. For a while everyone thought it was just the ravings of a bunch of superstitious locals. But then captains brought back stories of the strange behavior and disappearances of their crew who went ashore. Eventually it became such a hazard that ships stopped docking here, and with them went the local economy. The locals were forced to move inland and the few that stayed…well. No one is quite sure what happened to them. It was quite clear that there was something malicious on this island but no one was ever sure of what. Some locals claimed it was an angry ghost. Others were sure it was a monster prowling the woods…”

The man eyed Feyre’s skeleton home pointedly.

“Whatever it was, the government was quite aware of it. And then, oh just over 100 years ago, a new idea was floated amongst the elite. Why let the island go to waste? There were so many terrible people they would rather be rid of you see. And if there really were something hungry there, why not throw it a bone every now and then? A blood sacrifice, if you will.”

She felt a chill roll down her spine.

A blood sacrifice.

That’s what they were to the government. Meat. Something to keep Rhys fed and occupied.

“How do you even know all this?”

“Because I was one of the ones who put you people here.”

Feyre blanched. “What?! But then…why are you here?”

The man smiled self deprecatingly.

“Isn’t it obvious? I pissed off the wrong people.”

A politician then. A politician who knew too much and who was now being fed into the very meat grinder he had helped perpetuate. Well, she thought wryly, say what you will about them. They clearly have a sense of humor. A sick sense of humor, but a sense of humor nonetheless.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Simple. I want to know what you know. And I want to know how a sweet little thing like you has not only avoided capture but has seemingly survived out here alone. Unmolested by whatever keeps accepting our generous gifts.”

He didn’t know.

For all his regaling of the history of this island and the funneling of criminals onto it to feed some terrifying monster…he didn’t know what the monster was. He didn’t know about Rhys.

He didn’t know.

Feyre glanced back over his shoulder at the darkening sky.

And that was when he made his move.

Before she had any idea what was happening, the man lunged forward, grabbed her wrist and twisting. She cried out but still held onto her knife like her life depended on it.

Because it likely did.

He wasn’t a large man by any stretch of the imagination. But he was bigger than her and that was really all that he would need to overpower her. She gritted her teeth and snarled like an animal as she desperately tried to push him off with one hand while attempting to twist the other free.

“You know!” The man grunted. “You know something! Tell me!”

Feyre didn’t bother replying as she wriggled like an eel underneath him, trying to buck him off of her even though he had her hips pinned.

As the two struggled for control of the knife, the last rays of sunlight sank beneath the horizon.

And then everything went still.

Feyre felt a familiar sense of calm wash over her. Over her, the man who had just been trying to kill her had suddenly frozen in place. He blinked at her. Once. Twice. She couldn’t say when it was she knew it wasn’t him behind those eyes anymore, but she knew nonetheless.

Rhys grimaced at her with stolen lips.

“Are you alright?” He said with the man’s voice, though didn’t bother to wait for her reply before rifling through her head like he belonged there. When he seemed satisfied with what he found, she felt herself regain power over her own body again. She gasped. Her limbs shook with unused adrenaline. Rhys looked concerned until he saw Feyre’s face.

She was furious.

“What the fuck!” She yelled, shoving him off of her. He went easily, rolling back and letting her scramble out of his grasp to glare at him properly.

“That’s not a thank you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help!”

“Well you got it regardless. Do you truly think I would’ve let him attack you? Hurt you?” The man’s features twisted with rage as he gritted, “Rape you?”

Feyre paled.

It was clear Rhys was not speaking in hypotheticals. He’d read this man’s mind after taking possession of his body. He’d seen exactly what he’d had planned for her. She’d known he likely planned to kill her when he’d gone for the knife, but for some reason rape hadn’t occurred to her. It should have. Lord knew every other man on this fucking island wanted a piece of her. But somehow he’d made her believe he was either too worried about saving his own skin or too distracted by his talk about blood sacrifices to have any interest in rape.

Well…she certainly wouldn’t be making that same mistake twice.

“No, you won’t, because you will not leave my side again.” Rhys chimed in, answering the thoughts in her head in that irritating way of his.

“What side?” She sniped. “You don’t have a side! I don’t know if you’ve noticed this but you’re fucking dead!”

“Oh, but I do.”

“What are you talking-” And then it hit her. “Oh…oh no.”

“Oh yes. We have all night for me to use this body. I might as well make good use of it.” He grabbed a hold of her arm and hauled her forward like she weighed as much as a loaf of bread. “Come along Feyre Darling.”

And then he hauled her in the direction of the shore.

#the prison #my fanfic #fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #feysand

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northsaskhunter · 8 months ago

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Things my dumbass daughters have done in the one year I've had them (not in order) :

- ate my watch charger

- tried eating my bear hide

- ate the hair out of the shower drain

- broke into the shower while I was using it

- refuse to let me close the window despite it getting down to almost zero at night because father we will scream if we can't sniff the outside sniffs

- pee'd in the sink. Three times (I took them out to my parents. They don't like leaving the house)

- pee'd on my bed, while I slept in said bed. I woke up because my leg was warm and one of them was scratching at the spot (happened the first time I took them to my parents)

- tried killing each other more than once. (All because I took them either to the Vet or my parents)

- stood on the top of my flat screen tv when it was mounted, seven feet off the ground. (How the fuck she got up there, I don't know)

- ran up my bedroom door and sat on the top of that (again, how the fuck?)

- scratch the carpet when their scratching post is deadass, four feet away

- tried to walk on the stove top after I had just turned the burner off

- ate two chicken breasts in one sitting (I airfried three. Two for me and one for them. had to share the second one)

- would probably inhale a whole hotdog if I let them

- dump their water dish out if its anywhere other than in the sink

- tracked toilet water down the hallway becuase my sister didn't close the toilet lid

- got pee'd on by my brother because he didn't fully close the bathroom door

- ran under my feet when I was wearing boots and got stepped on. She didn't learn anything

- sit in the bay window and stare at people going by

- the younger of the two tried to kill the vet after they got fixed so I had to go back and get her into the carrier. She proceeded to try to kill her sister so I had to borrow another carrier from the vet to get both of them home. (I am pricing out getting two slightly smaller carriers for future vet trips than the big one I have)

- hated each other for a good week and a bit after being fixed

- almost took my arm off because my sisters brought the little dog over to let them sniff. The cats did NOT want to be sniffed. I can still hear the screech that cat let out.

- how dare I have anything on the table or the counters

- how DARE I only put dry kibble in the food bowl. That food bowl is for food, not toys.

- they see anything that rattles, crinkles or skitters as a toy. Dry kibble is a toy that can be eaten after being batted from the kitchen down the hallway into the bedroom

-may currently be on a partial hunger strike because the grocery store didnt have the wet food I had been giving them. (The exact same brand except the one they liked was in a plastic container)

- refuse to eat any other flavour of wet food aside from "seafood"

- refuse to eat any type of kibble aside from iams or kitten kibble

- only sleep either between my legs or in the doggy-bed I have on my own bed. (They get flung often because I constantly move in my sleep)

- I'm like 80% sure one of them ate the empty tube my testosterone came in. It was on the counter and then it wasn't. I have swept and also checked in the vent on the floor and I still don't know where it went.

- do something bad and scatter the moment I stand up.

- almost took down my bedroom door when I had to lock them in there when I had a zoom interview

- rattle the closet door for hours on end when I'm trying to sleep

-pooped in the kitchen sink because I was taking too long cleaning the litter bin (deadass just put the dirty litter into the garbage when the beotch shat in the sink)

- knocked my fan off the bedside table while I was asleep. Fan ended up broken.

- Stare and scream at me through the glass door every day when I go to work even though they know I'll be back in six hours.

- stare and scream at me through the glass door every day when I get BACK from work

- take man-shits on the daily and stink up the entire house despite the litter box being in the farthest room in the house

- knocked my lava lamp off the mantle piece (thank fuck that didnt break)

- often knock the vent covers off the fireplace

- ate the corner of my Fallout New Vegas "New California Republic" flag

- only get sick on the carpets. Winnie's first time being sick was caught and I held her above the sink. She stayed away from the sink for the next few days because that was obviously the thing that made her sick

- knocked over a half empty pop can and stained the carpet brown

My girls, Winnie and Mary. (Winnie has all the toes)

I want to get a third one, a blonde one though, and name her Sarah.

having a cat is great. there's a small little animal wandering around. effervescent

#cats #polydactyl

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ribcages-and-bookpages · 1 year ago

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One Day At A Time; Planning (chap 5)

(Gore/Death warning this chapter!)

Year x438, July 22nd,

It was two days later when Rowan and his little group arrived in Colkirk, where Rowan suggested they lay low until they had a plan; since most everyone avoids Colkirk like the plague. Serena was against the idea but eventually agreed with Rowa, but unfortunately for them, it was a day and a half trip to Colkirk and they had a small hiccup when someone tried to snatch Rowan's wallet and they turned him into the guards; even though Rowan disagreed with this.

As the group approached the town, a thick mixture of mist and smoke began to surround them and Serena whined softly, "We're gonna get killed, this is such a bad idea." She began to look around quickly though, she could have sworn she heard a footstep, "What was that!?" She stopped walking and put her hand on the hilt of her weapon. A heavy sigh left Rowan as he stopped and turned to Serena,

"Just trust me, once you get through the thickness of it, it gets better." He said as he waved his hand in dismissal. Ares now sighed at Rowan, as Serena looked at him,

"That's not what I meant! Do you not know how dangerous this area is? There are reports constantly of people going missing around here and their bodies are always dumped a few miles away days later!" She huffed at his ignorance.

Rowan simply stared at her for a moment before speaking,

"My point still stands, trust me." He said with a shrug, as he turned to continue entering the mist before Serena grabbed his shoulder to pull him back,

"Why should I trust you? It's not like you can magically protect us from every murderer!" She huffed at him once again. This caused Rowan to stop and look at Serena's hand for a long moment, 'I could bite her right now. I really could.' He sighed and shrugged her hand off his shoulder,

"Just trust me. I promise no one here will murder you." He started to walk again as the rest of his trio followed, "I kinda know them." He shrugged a bit as Serena tripped on a brick and nearly fell. She caught herself though and continued to walk,

"Don't tell me you're one of them!" She gasped as Rowan rolled his eyes,

"You're being harsh. Most of these people do it in self-defense and are here because they have nowhere left in the world that will protect them, while others do it for the pure financial gain of robbing others and are here because it's an easy place for targets. Similar to the smallest group of 'them' except those guys are straight-up murderers. One is friendly, one can be bought, and another beaten into submission" He explained before giving Serena an irritated look, "Don't group them together. I lived here for two years once, it's obviously not great, but it can be pretty peaceful compared to the outside bullshit." He huffed softly.

Serena looked taken aback for a moment before nodding softly,

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize." She spoke in a soft voice, clearly regretting her words, as Rowan shot her a small smile,

"It's alright, most people don't know that either. Just..keep an open mind. It's a messy place." He said softly as they walked over a major wave of heat coming from a small crack in the earth that blew their hair back, and then the view was instantly better once they passed it.

As their vision cleared a bit, you could see an entire city covered in ash that felt almost too warm to be comfortable anymore while ash fell from the sky, and the whole thing looked abandoned based on the state of many of the buildings. There were sinkholes everywhere that led straight down to what looked to be a lava pit but was really an unstoppable pit of burning coal that had been alight for the last 500 years. Although some of the sinkholes had filled in by now because of other areas sinking, or because the whole area collapsed and filled in the hole, and very occasionally the kingdom would fill in the sinkholes with large amounts of soil; which was also an effort to try and stop the coal from burning, but it was never enough to stop it. There was no plant life either, everything was decayed and dry or all that was left was what once held it, and you couldn't see the sky anymore, it was entirely grey. Everything was grey, but many things had flashes of other colors where there were shoe and hand prints, or the occasional cartwheel imprints in the ground where the ash had been pushed away. There were abandoned ash-filled carts all over the place and even some construction equipment that had been long forgotten, as well as ash-covered building materials everywhere. Many buildings had collapsed or half-collapsed, although some of the seemingly newer ones were holding up much better, although many of them weren't finished. The whole place had a haunted feeling to it as the entire city seemed to be frozen in several different periods of time.

Serena let out a small gasp as she looked around and held a hand to her mouth, although Rowan wasn't sure if it was shock or horror; perhaps both? Meanwhile, Ares looked around with wide eyes as he took in the details of the once-great city. As they took in the details, Rowan stopped beside them and looked around at the place he once called home, 'Looks almost exactly the same, I guess they haven't done any more work here.', a small sigh left him as the smell of the ash truly hit him and memories of his time once here flooded in,

Rowan was much younger and had a smaller body frame while also having a rounder and softer face. He had an overall softer appearance and much longer hair that reached the middle of his back and had no color to it. There was a frown on his face as he jumped back and slid on the ash-covered ground before catching himself and standing up before materializing a metal bat; just a simple metal bat with a smaller handle grip. He panted heavily in a much higher-pitched voice as he stood up fully and readied himself for an attack. In front of him was a man easily twice his size smirking as he fixed his brass knuckles,

"C'mon little girl, you can't win against me. Just give up and let me have some fun with you~" He hummed before laughing softly as he made his way over to Rowan. A small angry groan left Rowan as he ran at the man before hitting him in the gut with the bat and sending him sliding back a few feet, then leaped back several feet as he slid to a stop and readied his bat again.

A noise similar to a growl left the man as he fixed his posture and put a hand over his stomach where the bat had hit it, "Watch yourself or I might just kill you instead! Now get over here!" He shouted before running at Rowan, who leaped over him and stepped on his head before turning and hitting the man in the head with the bat; he could feel resistance but the bat kept going for a moment before stopping entirely as Rowan let go and jumped away. The larger man dropped to the ground like a bag of rocks as a sigh of relief left Rowan and he began to make his way over to collect his bat. But as he realized what the resistance was, his blood ran cold; the bat had gone into the man's head and he could see brain matter, as well as bits of skull and lots of blood. It churned his stomach and he put a hand to his mouth as tears began to slide down his cheeks while he had to resist the urge to vomit. He could feel the blood starting to slide down his face and looked down to see his hands covered in blood and brain matter-

"Rowan?" Called Ares's voice from behind Rowan, snapping him out of his dissociative with a startle, causing Rowan to turn to him quickly as his eyes widened. Ares was looking at Rowan with concern as Serena seemed confused and worried about one of her new group members, as Ares stepped a bit closer,

"You're alright." He said softly. A small hum left Rowan as his mind cleared and he began to calm down, turning back to look at the city for a moment before speaking,

"You know, this place used to be the very first major city, and then kingdom in Oselia, before it caught on fire." He said quietly, causing Serena to look at him in surprise as Ares looked at him as well,

"Is that why there's such a large empty spot on maps? Is it really that big?" She asked softly, seeming both surprised and horrified by this. Rowan gave a solemn nod and glanced back at her,

"It was one of the biggest cities in Oselia, and is still one of the largest in history, But mostly forgotten about." He spoke in a soft and empty voice as he gazed at all of it.

That was cut short though as a couple people peeked out from various spots around them, although these people had horns, multiple eyes, or other unique features that made them stand out in this world, and therefore treated unfairly most of the time. Rowan gave a friendly smile and waved, "Hey, anyone here remember me? Little Row? I know I look different, but if you remember me, you know why." He called out in a friendly voice with a smile. A duo of small gasps left two girls to the right of them and Rowan quickly turned to look as he spotted two women whom he recognized instantly, 'Xillie and Fennala!' He thought as he smiled.

Behind the wall of a half-collapsed building were two elf women, one with short, thick, and wavy blonde hair and blue eyes with a petite inverted triangle body shape, although she was half a foot taller than the woman beside her. The woman beside her had reddish tan skin with a beauty mark above the upper left side of her lip and chestnut brown eyes. She also had dark brown hair that was in six braids that reached just past her hips, which were wider than the girl beside her as she had an hourglass shape. Even though both women were elves, the only thing they had in common was their pointed ears and their matching ankle-length grey tunics with an under-bust corset on top of that, which were both black.

The two women scrambled to climb over the wall as they held up the bottoms of their tunics a bit so they wouldn't tear the fabric, then rushed over to Rowan,

"Is that really you? You're so different!" Said the girl with blonde hair, causing Rowan to smile,

"Yeah, Xillie, it's me. I know I look different, but I've been on it for years now, plus other stuff." He laughed nervously as he rubbed his arm a bit. Before he could explain any more, both women hugged him tightly,

"Oh, it's so good to see you again!" Said the blonde as she pulled back, although the brunette lingered,

"It's been so long, Rowan." She said softly before letting go and stepping back as she shyly looked to the ground.

Serena stepped up beside Rowan to look at the women before glancing at Rowan as she crossed her arms; she didn't trust these women at all, 'There are so many undercover Wings members, what if one or both of them are one? They target places like this...but then again,' Serena turned her gaze to look at all the buildings, 'Almost no one comes here unless they have no other choice. I don't think even Lady Skel would risk her people with the rumors that are around here.' She thought to herself as she turned to look at the ash falling from the sky, although not directly up so none got in her eyes.

Meanwhile, Ares stepped up behind Rowan to peek over his shoulder to see the women's faces properly as he clasped his hands behind his back before looking away. Rowan simply smiled at the woman in front of him,

"I know it's been a while, life has been kinda crazy. Kinda had to restart entirely, so..here I am." He says as his smile turns more nervous. The two women shared a look of worry before looking at Rowan,

"I'm sorry Rowan." Sighed the brunette as she dropped her gaze, while the blonde smiled softly,

"We've got your back, most of the others are still around too, and they've got your back too. You've had all of ours." She said in a soft yet kind tone as her smile grew a bit, "Your friends are welcome too, any friend of yours, is a friend of ours." She hummed as the other woman nodded.

Rowan smiled and gave a nod to the women before looking to Serena and Ares, then back to the women,

"Meet Ares and Serena, Ares and Serena, meet Xillie and Fennala." He said with a hum as he introduced everyone to each other. Once the greetings settled, Xillie looked at Rowan and gave a small smile,

"Come with us, We'll take you to some shelter. It's not fun standing in the open for more than a little bit, the ash will ruin most colors of clothing and make your hair disgusting. Plus, it's better where the air crystals are." She explained as she turned and began to walk. Fennala looked at Rowan for a moment before quickly following after Xillie, causing Rowan to tilt his head and watch her for a moment before following.

Serena and Ares followed Rowan instantly and moved to both walk by his side, while Serena turned to him,

"Can we really trust them? Lady Skel has roots everywhere." She whispered to Rowan, who scoffed slightly,

"Yes, Serena. I saved their lives a few times, and they've helped save my ass a few times too. We used to be a trio around here. We're the three who originally brought in the air crystals to purify the air of enclosed spaces. It made a huge difference in people's health pretty quick." He explained with a small hum as he slipped his hands into his pants pockets, watching the two women in front of him lead them to shelter.

Meanwhile, the city around them came to life as people began talking and moving from place to place, although it wasn't a lot of people, there was chattering and a buzz of energy in the center of the city. As the women lead them to a large, incomplete concrete building, Serena could feel her anxiety bubbling up, 'What if he's wrong? What if this is all a trap?' She thought as her body began to tense up a bit,

"Calm down, Rena, they're just taking us home," Rowan spoke softly to her. This seemed to snap her out of her thoughts as she looked to Rowan and nodded softly then began to relax her muscles a bit, but she remained a bit tense as they approached. On the opposite side of Rowan was Ares, who was simply looking around at his surroundings as they walked, taking in every detail of every item in the area, which allowed him to make a mental map of the area.

As the group arrived at a large metal door with a spinning wheel as its handle, two men came out from both alleyways and held out knives,

"Hey girls~ We told you to be careful 'round here." Said one man with a scar across the center of his face dark hair and dark eyes. His scan was a light tan color and he was easily over six feet tall and built like an ox, while the man across from him was shorter, but much wider and had brown hair with blue eyes, along with a unibrow. His skin was a few shades paler than the other male's, but both held daggers that looked expensive and intricate, but the end of the blonde male was rusted. The blonde man grinned at the group,

"Now you've brought unwanted guests into our territory. I guess we'll just have to teach you all a lesson." He threatened as his grin turned wicked and dark. Xillie huffed at the men,

"C'mon Cody and Rory, we're just trying to go home. Our friends have had a long journey and don't want any trouble." She scooted closer to the door as she huffed once more and Fennala stepped behind her. The two men laughed though and stepped closer; as Rowan grabbed Ares's wrist to stop him from intervening, which stopped him instantly. Serena on the other hand looked ready to explode as her hand rested on the hilt of her rapier,

"Oh, but we do." Growled the man with the dark hair as he lifted his hand with the blade.

A small hum left Rowan, which caused both men to look at him and frown,

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He said with a small smile, "Me and my friends just want to go inside and get some fresh air, so why don't you let us through?" He hummed his question as he glanced from one man then to the other. He continued to smile as the blonde man laughed again from his left,

"You think you scare us, small fry? We'll just cut you down first. You don't even have a weapon!" He smirked as he took a step towards Rowan. Once again, Rowan's hand flew to Ares's wrist to stop him in his tracks, and just as before Ares stopped and glared at the men as he waited for Rowan's 'okay'. A small laugh left Rowan this time as he slipped his hands out of his pockets and hummed as he materialized his scythe and shifted it in his hands,

"Oh I don't think I'll scare you, I think I'll have you begging for your life." He said with a smile before dashing at the blonde and slicing three of his fingers off, causing his dagger to fall to the ground, then he was back to where he had been standing. The blood on his scythe became one big drip and dropped onto the ground as the blonde man screamed and held his hand,

"What'd you do to him you brat!? How'd you move so fast?" Shouted the dark-haired male as he rushed at Rowan, who shot Ares a look as he went to react. Rowan ran at the man before throwing his scythe in the air and jumping n the air and placing both feet on the center of the man's ribs before putting the full force of his kick and weight into it, sending the man flying back into the ally with a shout of pain. Rowan dropped down onto the ground and bent his knees down to help with the impact, then raised his hand and caught it with one hand while he turned towards the blonde man,

"Ready to beg yet?" Hissed Rowan as he smiled a wicked smile at the man. The blonde cried out

"Rory, let's go! The little demon is back!" He shouted as he grabbed his dagger from the ground and took off down the alley, just as the other man, Rory, gathered himself up from the garbage cans he hit and stumbled into the darkness of the alleyways.

A small sigh left Rowan as he dematerialized his scythe flipped his hair slightly out of his face and began to walk back to his group,

"Ready to go inside?" He asked with a smile as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Ares was simply staring at Rowan quietly with slightly wide eyes, as Serena looked a bit disturbed,

"Was...all that necessary?" She asked slowly, as the other two women laughed nervously,

"Classic Row." Hummed Xillie, as Fennala nodded softly. A nervous laugh left Rowan now though at Serena's question,

"Well, no. Well- Actually-" He sighed and shifted a bit, "It's complicated. Normally, no. Here? They'll fight you to the death. They have little fear, but if you find it and bring it to the surface? They won't come near you ever again." He responded with a nervous smile as he glanced away while lowering his head a bit. There was a small pause before Serena spoke,

"I understand. Although I must admit... I was surprised to see you like that. It...was pretty fear-inducing." She explained slowly before looking back to the building, "But enough of this, my lungs burn, may we go inside now?" She asked the women, who nodded in sync before heading to the door.

As Rowan walked over, he noticed Ares still watching him and walked up to him and waved a hand in front of his face,

"You okay Ares? You seem a little surprised." He asked with a soft, yet nervous smile as Ares snapped out of it. When he did, his cheeks became a bit pink and he turned his head away,

"Yes, I'm fine. Let's go inside." He responded in a softer tone than normal though, causing Rowan to tilt his head a bit,

"If you're sure..." He said doubtfully as he watched Ares for a moment. When Ares showed no signs of stopping him, he turned and followed over to the door, which was now open,

"Hurry now, the ash is getting in!" Xillie rushed them as she waved her hand towards the door, causing the group to scurry inside the building.

Once inside, the room was mostly dark with vague outlines but felt rather spacious, only to become pitch black as the door closed. Within moments, the room lit up with a yellow glow and everyone turned their attention to Fennala, who had a large yellow crystal hovering just above her palm. The crystal rotated slowly and caused the walls to have a sparkling effect; showing the concrete walls that lead down a hallway, which had layers of fabric hanging as a makeshift door near the end of the hall. The ceilings were low, causing Ares to have to duck his head slightly as he stood there, and the floors were also concrete but there were no windows; at least, none that any light came through. The windows seemed to be metal shutters that were closed, not that they opened anymore anyway.

Serena was tense as the crystal began to glow and her head whipped over to the light Fennala held as she visibly began to relax. A small laugh left Rowan as he noticed Serena,

"You're fine, Rena. I wouldn't take us somewhere dangerous-, Okay, I would, but I would tell you first." He glanced to the side as Serena stared him down,

"Yeah, that makes me feel better," Serena muttered as she raised a hand and rubbed her temples with two fingers,

"Great! Then let's go. Before Ares gets a crick in his neck" A hum left Rowan as he looked to Xillie, who began to lead them down the hall. A sputtering response left Serena,

"I was being sarcastic don't take it seriously-," She started, only to realize the rest of the group was making their way down the hall and she was being left behind in the darkness, "Wait for me!" She called before quickly walking over to meet everyone.

The group of five stood in front of the makeshift fabric door for a moment before Xillie pushed the various fabrics to the side and began to go through them,

"Like this, and watch your feet!" She called out as she got to the other side of the cloth doors, leaving Fennala near the entrance as she held the light crystal in her hand,

"Go ahead. I'll go last." She said softly as she stepped to the side a bit and raised her hand slightly to allow the crystal to light up the 'door' better.

Rowan gave a small grin to Fennala as she did this and he made his way to the fabric to pull some open for Serena to go through,

"Thanks, Nala. Now, Serena, you're going first. Xillie is waiting on the other side." He said as he pulled the fabric further back. Immediately after he said this, Serena tensed and looked at Rowan,

"Do I have to? Can't Ares go first?" She seemed worried as she glanced at the cloth before looking back to Rowan, causing a heavy sigh to leave him,

"Fine, Ares, you're first." He muttered with a shake of his head. With that, Ares made his way to the fabric and began to push various pieces out of his way, until he seemed to disappear into the wall of fabric.

Rowan looked at Serena once more and she seemed to shrink back a bit before huffing,

"Fine, I'll go." She muttered angrily as she made her way over to the cloth and began to push her way through to the other side. Once she seemed to be through, Rowan turned to Fennala and gave a small smile,

"Our turn." He said before moving partially into the hanging fabric, then held up some Fennala could get through as well, "I'll hold it open for you, I don't want you to drop the crystal." He said with a hum. Fennala paused and stared at him for a long moment before nodding softly and making her way over to stand beside him. Rowan dropped the fabric that he was holding and moved to hold some more up, then looked down to Fennala and gave her a small grin, "Keep moving, I can't wait to breathe some air that doesn't make my lungs want to evacuate my body." He joked. This earned a small giggle from Fennala, who was standing beside him and looked up at him with a smile for a moment before continuing further into the fabric.

Once the two finally made their way through the fabric, Rowan's face lit up at seeing the room they were now in; the room itself was still concrete, but the walls were painted with various designs and there was a yellow light crystal in the ceiling corners, as well as a big baby blue one that was about two feet tall and was held in a stand in the center of the room. There were several furniture items, including four couches, three padded chairs, and a large table with ten seats that were all mismatched. The ground was covered in rugs, layered one after another to the point no concrete from the floor was visible. There were several other objects around the room such as books, blankets, board games, and packs of playing cards; multiple of which were on the coffee table in the middle of the couches. There was a metal door on the left wall and a hallway to the right, which was dimly lit.

Rowan began to look around the room to take in every detail, while Xillie was with Serena by the couches as the two were in conversation, and Ares was still looking around while waiting next to the entrance to the room. Ares looked to Rowan and Fennala as they came out and he turned to them, while Rowan took a deep breath before smiling softly, "Fresh air, hell yeah." He muttered to himself before turning to Fennala with a small grin, "You guys sure have upgraded this place since last time, I like the rugs." He said with a hum as he shrugged off his backpack and set it by the entrance; beside Ares's and Serena's bags. Fennala quickly looked away from Rowan as a soft smile made its way to her face,

"We took your advice to make it more homey, and we've been adding on since then." She replied softly. Another small hum left Rowan as he nodded a bit,

"Thanks for inviting us in, we kind of need a place to lay low for a few days." He laughed nervously and rubbed his arm a bit as Fennala paused to look at Rowan.

Xillie made her way over with Serena to join the conversation, and she raised an eyebrow at Rowan as he said this,

"What trouble did you get into?" She asked in a teasing tone, causing a small huff to leave Rowan,

"It's a long story, but let's just say the three of us are wanted by some people who won't hesitate to kill us if they get the chance." He explained before glancing away. Xillie and Fennala both stared at Rowan for a long moment before sharing a look with each other, then Xillie turned back to Rowan,

"Well, you three are welcome to stay here as long as you need. We've got the space here, and the air crystal is enough to sustain up to twelve people for an extended amount of time, so that's not a concern either." She hummed with a smile. A small nod came from Rowan as he looked to Ares and Serena, who both gave a nod in return to Rowan before he looked back to Xillie,

"Thanks, Xill. We'll take you up on that offer." He gave a small smile as Xillie nodded,

"No problem, Rowan. You all feel free to make yourselves at home." She hummed with a bright smile. Serena smiled softly in return to Xillie's smile,

"Thank you, Xillie and Fennala. I appreciate you allowing us to stay here." She spoke in a somewhat formal way, causing Xillie to laugh softly,

"No worries, Serena. No need to be so tense, we're all friends here." She hummed before making her way over to the couches and sitting down, as Fennala followed after her.

Rowan followed after the two, causing Serena and Ares to follow after Rowan, who sat on one of the two-person couches, while Xillie and Fennala sat on a larger three-person couch. Ares made his way to sit on the same couch as Rowan, while Serena sat by Xillie and Fennala. Rowan turned his attention towards Xillie and Fennala before speaking,

"Any chance you two have a map we could borrow? We gotta make a plan, and a map would help." He questioned with a small smile, 'Although I'm not sure where to even start with a plan.' He thought as Xillie nodded with a hum,

"Sure do, let me go get it." She replied before getting up off the couch. Xillie made her way to the metal door to the left of the room before opening it with a 'clunk', and then a quiet whine left the door as it opened enough for Xillie to go inside.

Serena watched Xillie for a moment before looking at Rowan and Ares,

"Either of you have any ideas for a plan?" She asked as she raised an eyebrow, causing the two males to share a look before both shook their heads,

"Honestly, I'm not good at that. Tell me what to do and I can do it though." Rowan gave a small grin to Serena, who sighed softly,

"As expected." She muttered.

As Xillie returned to the group, all eyes went to her as she pushed aside the items on the coffee table before laying out the map, then handed Rowan a charcoal pencil. A smile made its way to Rowan's face as he nodded at Xillie,

"Thanks, Xill." He said with a bit of a hum as he leaned forward and pulled the coffee table a bit closer. Both Ares and Serena sat forward a bit as well so they could view the map properly; which was a map of the Kingdom of Oburus. The major cities were labeled in larger letters while the smaller cities and towns had a smaller font, and in the lower left area of the map was Colkirk, although it was just a large grey area that took up 1/8 of the map, and it had no label.

The trio began to examine the map for a moment until Rowan looked to Xillie as she sat back on the couch, "Either of you know of any Wings bases around here?" He asked suddenly. Both women froze as Fennala looked as if she had seen a ghost, and Xillie shot up from her seat,

"You idiot! You're seriously going after Wings?! They'll kill you!" She shouted at him as she threw her hands up in frustration, "Do you have a death wish or something!?" She looked at Rowan and glared at him a bit. A small sigh left Rowan as he ran a hand through his hair, 'She's right, it's stupid to try. but...' he then looked to Xillie again,

"I know it's not smart, frankly, it's the worst idea I've ever had, but I'm not alone. Besides, they can't keep getting away with the things they've done and are continuing to do, and if I can fuck that up for them then I absolutely will." He replied in a matter-of-fact tone of voice as his gaze became firm and determined. Xillie paused as she stared at Rowan for a moment, completely taken back by his resolve to do such a thing, but her head whipped over to Fennala as she broke the silence,

"...Just don't die, Row." She spoke in a soft, evidently sad voice as she looked to the floor. This caused a grin to spread across Rowan's face,

"I'll do my best. I don't think these two plan to let me die any time soon, not till we're done at least." He said in a lightheaded tone, that smile still on his face as both Ares and Serena nodded in confirmation.

It was quiet for a moment before Xillie's sigh broke the silence and she pointed to an area on the map, just outside of the gray area of Colkirk to the north,

"Here. It's a smaller base but heavily guarded. Anyone who gets close doesn't come back." She spoke softly as Rowan circled that area on the map. Xillie turned to him with a sad and worried expression, "Be careful for once, please." She spoke in a softer tone now. Rowan looked to Xillie and gave a small grin,

"I will. As much as I can, anyways." He hummed before looking back to the map as Serena pulled the table closer to herself. She began to examine the map before raising her gaze to Rowan, while Xillie sat back down on the couch,

"Where are we right now? Roughly anyways." She asked as she nodded her head at the map. With a hum Rowan grabbed his charcoal pencil again before making a small circle near the center and slightly to the left in the grey area; which was quite the distance between that and the other circle,

"About here." He said as he glanced at Serena.

Serena leaned her hands on the table as she stared down at the map, then spoke after a moment of thinking, "Okay, tell me how you both feel about this plan; Tomorrow morning we make our way through Colkirk and make our way closer to the base, but we stay under the cover of the ash and smoke until the day we go to the base. When we get there, we need to find a way in without drawing too much attention to ourselves, after that, we can try to get information on Wings' next move so we can stop it. But the problem is, if no one comes back from this place, then it's likely to be heavily guarded, so we'll have to be extremely careful not to be captured or killed." She spoke confidently as she turned her gaze up to Rowan and Ares. After a moment of consideration, Rowan nodded softly,

"That sounds like a good plan. Better than anything I've been able to come up with so far. But what if we do some recon before we go. Like, check out the size of the building and try and see how many guards go in and out." He scratched his head a bit before looking to Serena, while Ares nodded softly,

"How would we do that without being caught?" Asked Ares in a quiet voice as he glanced between Serena and Rowan. Both of them paused before Rowan sighed and ran a hand through his hair,

"I'll do it. I should be quick enough to be able to get out of there without getting caught." He seemed unsure about this as he spoke, glancing away as he thought about the endless possibilities of what could happen, 'What if I do get caught? They'd kill me on the spot I'd bet. I'm on their shit list, they won't hesitate.' He felt his thoughts overwhelming him.

Ares's voice cut through Rowan's overwhelming thoughts and he was brought back to reality,

"I'll do it." He spoke in a firm voice as he looked to Rowan, then Serena before looking to the map, "...I have teleportation abilities. I..can only go places I've been before, but if things get bad I can get out of there rather quickly" He explained, although he seemed uncomfortable with all the eyes on him as he shifted in his seat. A smile began to spread across Rowan's face as he looked at Ares, 'He actually spoke up in a group, that's awesome. Wait, is that why he's so fast? He is teleporting? That explains a lot.' He was lost in thought until Serena spoke and brought him back to reality once more,

"That would be very helpful, Ares. Thank you." She smiled at Ares, who kept his gaze on the map on the table.

Rowan gave a little grin as he looked to Serena, then Ares,

"I guess we know our plan now. Most of it anyways." He hummed as Ares nodded softly before Serena nodded as well,

"Seems we do." She responded as she leaned back onto the couch and crossed her arms. Xillie spoke up after a moment,

"So you guys are really trying to stop Wings? That.. sounds like a suicide mission." She spoke in a soft and fearful voice as she looked at Rowan. With a nervous laugh, Rowan nodded softly,

"Yeah, it doesn't sound smart..but at this point, it's too late to turn back." He spoke softly as he felt a pang of pain in his heart, 'I can't let them get away with anything else. I can't let them take more people like Brooke, no one else needs to go through what I've gone through. No one else needs to die.' He found himself staring at the floor as he was lost in thought.

He was pulled out of it though as Fennala spoke to him,

"Rowan? I know Xillie said it but... be careful." She was using a softer voice than normal and it was laced with worry and fear as she looked at him with a fearful look. Rowan looked at Fennala and smiled at her,

"I will. Now, let's focus on something more positive; what should we do for lunch?" He grinned softly as Serena sighed at him and a small giggle left Fennala. Xillie shifted to sit up more and looked at Rowan,

"Well, we have a stew going in the kitchen. We used one of our big pots for leftovers, but we'd be happy to share. It's been going since early this morning." She said with a smile, earning a nod from Rowan as he smiled in return,

"Sounds good. What do you two think?" He asked as he looked between Ares and Serena. Ares gave a small nod of agreement while Serena nodded as well,

"Sure, that would be wonderful." She spoke in a soft and friendly voice as she gave the two women on the couch with her a little smile. With a hum, Xillie stood and turned to the group,

"I'll go get some bowls for everyone," She paused and looked to Fennala before continuing, "Can you help me Fennala?" She asked with a tilt of her head. Fennala gave a small nod before standing as well, and the two made their way down the hallway to the right of the room. It was quiet for a moment after their departure until there was the sound of a heavy metal door squeaking open, and then closing and making a 'clunk' noise as it latched.

Rowan turned his attention to the members of his group and gave a small smile,

"So, how are you both feeling about being here? I know Colkirk isn't ideal, but it's likely they won't find us here. Not easily anyways." He said as he ran a hand through his hair. His gaze flickered between Serena and Ares, but Serena was the first to speak,

"You're right that it's not ideal, especially because of the air quality, but I will say that this wasn't a terrible idea. Colkirk gives us a good base location to hide after doing dangerous things; like invading their bases." She responded as she shifted in her seat to cross her legs, "And your friends are quite kind, it's nice to see such kind women in such a harsh world." She smiled softly as she turned her gaze to the floor for a moment before looking back to Rowan as her expression turned serious, "We need to be careful coming around them too often, otherwise Wings might find them." She spoke in a firm voice.

Rowan paused for a moment, 'She's right. if I'm not careful they'll get dragged into this too, and neither could survive against Wings. Fuck...' He pulled himself out of his thoughts and nodded at Serena,

"You're right about that. If we make Colkirk our base, we should keep our base in another location, somewhere away from the main part of the city. That's our best bet to keep everyone here safe. I'd say we'd want to go north." He sighed softly as he scratched his head a bit. After a moment Rowan looked to Ares and dropped his hand from his hair, "What do you think of that, Ares? How are you feeling about all this?" He asked with a small head tilt.

Ares stared at Rowan for a moment as he began to piece together his words and figure out what he wanted to say, but he could feel both Rowan's and Serena's eyes on him and it was making him nervous. He glanced away from Rowan and took a silent breath, but when he turned back to Rowan and Rowan was softly smiling at him he felt his heart jump into his throat, 'Don't look at me like that!' He thought as he turned his gaze to the floor.

"Ares?" Called Serena, since there was a bit of a pause between the question and his answer, but Rowan immediately lifted his hand and waved it in dismissal at her,

"Give him a minute, sometimes he has to think about it." He said with a shrug as he leaned back on the couch. Rowan put his arm over the back of the couch and leaned back into the corner of the couch a bit to look at Ares, patiently waiting for the answer he was sure would come. Finally, he did,

"Well....I agree. Colkirk is a good place for a base, and keeping away from the general public would be wise as well...But, how do we do this? We'll have to spend a few days alone setting up the base to make it usable and breathable before we can even think about any missions." He spoke in his usual monotone voice as he raised his head and glanced between the two of them before focusing his gaze on the map in front of him.

A hum of agreement left Rowan as Serena nodded,

"Yes, that is true. Rowan, you would be in charge of helping find materials for the base; after all, neither of us has been here until now. Neither of us know where to start. Along with that, the three of us will have to find a building that has easy access, looks inconspicuous, and has little to no outside ventilation." She sighed as she leaned her head back on the couch and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and finger, "And at the same time, it needs to stick out to us so we can always find it, and it has to be sturdy enough to survive against the more powerful and magic holding members of Wings if they find us." She spoke clearly yet quietly. Serena found herself already overwhelmed with all they had to do and at a loss of how to even start.

"I think I know a place," Rowan called out suddenly, causing both of the members of his party to turn to look at him at the same time as Serena raised her head off the couch,

"You know a place?" Serena asked as she sat up more to give Rowan her full attention. As he nodded, both members stared at him before he gave a little grin,

"Oh, I should tell you about it, huh?" He chuckled softly before sitting up from his position on the couch and grabbing the charcoal pencil. Their eyes followed his movements as he pulled the map closer before making a small circle near the outer west edge, "It's around here. It's one of the taller buildings that was made before this place went up. Unless it has changed, the west burns the coldest and has the least amount of damage to the ground and buildings. It's at a higher level than the city surrounding it, meaning it has great viewpoints; but the ash falls more heavily here since the ash is heavier in the north and the west. The building itself is a good size, not the biggest around but it has multiple floors, multiple doorways, and even a few places we could turn into easy entrances that only we would know about. If it's anything like last time, the remaining doors are rusted shut, but I'm sure Ares could deal with them if we really needed." He finished as he gave a little grin to Ares, who quickly sat up before looking away from Rowan and focusing on the map on the table again.

Serena raised an eyebrow at them but dismissed the odd behavior before focusing on everything Rowan said,

"Alright, well, so long as it's as great as you say, it'll be perfect. Now, how are we going to get a large amount of supplies all the way to the other side of the city? It's not like we have anything to transport ourselves, let alone anything else." She sighed heavily as she covered her face with her hand, rubbing her forehead a bit, "Perhaps Xillie and Fennala know of a cart we could have? Or borrow at the least..but even then, that would be such a difficult journey." She sighed softly.

Meanwhile, Rowan turned his gaze to Ares and gave him a little grin, causing Ares to slowly turn to look at him as his expression slowly turned more confused and unsure of what Rowan was thinking,

"I got an idea." Rowan finally spoke, causing both members of his group to look at him. He paused for a moment before looking to Ares again, "Well, you have a special skill that might work for that. Especially because...we could just fly to the base." He said softly, watching as Ares's body went stiff and he glanced at Serena. Quickly sitting up, Rowan placed a hand on Ares's shoulder, "Ares, hey, it's okay. You know we can trust her. She's gonna find out sooner or later anyways, better to tell her yourself, isn't it?" He spoke in a calm and quiet voice as he gently held his hand on Ares's shoulder, 'I hope he's not upset with me about this. It's time she knows, especially before we raid that base.' Rowan's thoughts wandered for a moment, but he pulled it back and focused on Ares.

Ares had moved to clasp his hands tightly together as he stared at his shoes, his eyes darting around every now and again as various ideas, thoughts, and possibilities raced through his mind, and Serena just watched in confusion,

"What's this special skill?" She asked as her brows knit together and her gaze focused on Ares.

It was quiet for a moment before Ares spoke, although he never raised his gaze from the floor,

"I'm...I'm a dragon shifter. What Rowan is getting at, is that I can fly." He explained slowly like he was choosing his words carefully. Serena stared at Ares in shock for a moment before nodding softly as her expression relaxed into one of warmth,

"Thank you for telling me, Ares. Let's use that as our last resort, yeah?" She asked with a small smile. Ares slowly looked up from the ground to look at Serena for a moment before looking back to the ground and relaxing his clasped-together hands,

"...Yeah." He agreed quietly as he gave a small nod. After a pause, Rowan spoke up,

"Well, we can always see if anyone around here has a cart we could buy off them, so we can transport things easier." He recommended, causing both Serena and Ares to nod in agreement.

Suddenly the squeaking of a metal door could be heard, and the smell of stew began to waft into the room, causing Rowan's stomach to growl as he realized how hungry he was, 'Man, I didn't realize I needed to eat, I've been so focused on everything else I forgot to eat.' He thought with an internal sigh. But as the metal door shut and made another 'clunk' noise, he was brought back to reality and looked to the hallway as Xillie and Fennala entered the room. Xillie was holding a metal tray with three bowls on it, while Fennala held two bowls on a smaller metal tray. The two approached the group and Xillie smiled as she began to hand out the bowls of stew from her tray,

"There's more if anyone wants seconds after this." She said as she finished handing out the bowls, while a chorus of thanks left the trio. She set the tray down on the table as Fennala then placed her tray on top of that one, and handed Xillie a bowl of stew before taking her own bowl into her hands.

Rowan was the first to begin to eat, happily beginning to do so with a small hum, although the food was hot and he was burning his mouth a bit you wouldn't think so based on his facial expression, 'Man, I missed their cooking Fennala makes the best stews...' He thought to himself as he ate with a small smile. Ares followed Rowan's lead and began to eat, although he had no reaction to the temperature of the food either and simply enjoyed his bowl of stew with a neutral expression.

Meanwhile, the trio of women on the couch to the right of Ares and Rowan stared at the two in horror, "You guys...It's hot." Xillie said softly as she stared at them. Serena looked baffled as she looked at the two members of her team,

"I can feel the heat from the bowl...how are neither of you reacting at all?" She asked as she set her stew down on the coffee table, carefully avoiding the map. Ares was quiet for a moment before muttering,

"Immune to fire and heat." He immediately resumed eating, and all eyes were on Rowan; as they were satisfied with Ares's answer. Rowan swallowed a mouthful of stew and looked up at the women before giving a lopsided grin,

"I'm just stupid and don't care. It's not gonna kill me. And if it did, then so be it." He gave a small chuckle before returning to eating his stew.

A heavy sigh left Serena as she folded her arms and shook her head a bit, while Xillie shook her head beside her and shifted the bowl of stew to also rest on the table, beside Serena's. Fennala paused for a moment though as she watched Rowan with a small smile until Ares eyes darted up to meet hers and he stared at her quietly while eating. This caused her to quickly look away and set her bowl down on the table, near the corner as she looked to the floor, while Ares turned his gaze back to his food.

After a few minutes of quiet amongst everyone except Serena and Xillie, who were chatting about clothing choices here while Fennala listened, Rowan spoke up,

"Can I have more please, Nala?" He asked with a little lopsided smile. Fennala smiled softly in return before nodding and walking over to him and gently taking the bowl from his hands as he offered it up to her, their hands touching in the process; which caused Fennala to jump back a bit and nearly drop the bowl. Rowan quickly caught the bowl before handing it to her with a small smile, "Still clumsy I see." He teased, causing Fennala to shyly look away and give a small, nervous smile in response. She took the bowl and headed to the kitchen, the metal door clunking closed behind her.

Rowan looked to the others around him and noticed Ares had a slightly irritated expression, while Serena and Xillie were eating their stew and talking to each other about Colkirk; although it was mostly Xillie telling her about it and Serena comparing it to other places she has been. After a pause, Rowan looked back to Ares and gave a small smile, "What's up Ares? You're glaring your stew." He joked lightly with a smile. Ares glanced at Rowan before forcing his expression neutral, then shook his head a bit,

"It's nothing." He replied in his usual monotone voice, although it was quieter than usual. This caused Rowan to knit his brows together as he watched Ares quietly eat his remaining stew,

"Are you sure?" He asked once more, his worried gaze focused on Ares. A small hum left Ares as he nodded, then finished his stew before setting the bowl in his lap.

After a moment of watching him, Rowan nodded softly before looking up as he heard the loud clanking of the metal door opening and closing, then Fennala appeared in the hallway and made her way to Rowan; although she had two bowls in her hands. Once she got to Rowan, she handed him a bowl before offering one to Ares with a nervous smile, who stared at her quietly as he accepted the bowl. After a moment he gave a nod of thanks as Rowan quickly thanked Fennala before beginning to eat his stew again, while Fennala made her way back to the couch and began to eat her own stew; all while listening to the conversation between the other two women on the couch.

Rowan began to eat his new serving of stew as Ares set his empty bowl on the table before beginning to eat his second bowl. It was peacefully quiet, minus the chatter between the two women on the couch and the noises of spoons clanking against metal bowls. Once Rowan had finished his meal he set his bowl on the table, stacking it with Ares's bowl before looking at Ares with a small smile,

"You know, I'm proud of you for telling Serena about..y'know. I'm sorry for putting you on the spot though." He spoke softly and gave a nervous smile as he rubbed his arm a bit, "But, I know we can trust Serena. She wants to stop Wings just as much as I hate them, and she's a pretty accepting person so far." He said with a more relaxed and warm smile.

Ares had turned his gaze to Rowan as he spoke and felt a bit of heat rush to his cheeks at being praised, causing him to turn his head back to look at his stew as his hair fell into his face a bit from lowering his head a bit. It was quiet for a moment before Ares spoke softly,

"You're right, I should trust her more. She's had our backs so far.. and you're right about that part too. She wants to stop Wings more than anything, so she has no reason to betray us." He replied in a soft tone as he stirred his stew with his spoon. Rowan couldn't help but grin a bit at Ares's words and hummed softly in response,

"Right. I know trust isn't gained that easily, but try to trust her. Xill and Nala can be trusted too, but you just met them so I don't expect you to trust them much." He said with a lopsided smile. Ares glanced at Rowan before looking back to his stew, 'He keeps smiling at me. Why is it making my heart race every time? And..the way he's talking to me. He understands me. No one ever has except...mom.' He felt tugging at his heartstrings as his thoughts wandered, but he quickly brought them back before speaking, "...I'll do my best." A simple answer, but still an efficient one.

Rowan smiled softly and nodded at Ares as he leaned back on the couch,

"That's all I ask of anyone." He hummed with a small grin. He leaned back into the corner of the arm and back of the couch and looked to Ares as he put his arm over the back of the couch and his other arm supporting him on the arm of the couch, "Are you finished with your stew?" He asked with a head tilt, noticing Ares just staring at it. Ares seemed to jump a bit as Rowan asked if he was done before giving a small nod and moving to set his bowl on the table next to the other bowls, as Xillie's bowl joined theirs on the table. Fennala's was next, followed by Serena's moments after, and Xillie spoke up,

"I'm going to go wash these dishes. It's getting late though, would you all like some blankets and pillows to sleep for the night?" She asked as she stood up and straightened out her clothes before giving a smile. The trio all shared looks before Rowan nodded and gave a lopsided grin,

"That'd be great, Xill. Thanks." He hummed as he sat up a bit, while Serena nodded,

"Yes, thank you." She smiled warmly at Xillie. The smile was returned as Xillie then turned to Fennala,

"You able to help me, Fennala?" She asked with a small head tilt, while the other woman nodded softly before the two began to gather the dishes from dinner.

The two women made their way to the kitchen, obvious by the clunking of the door as it closed, and Serena began to take her hair down from the bun she had. She was now left with a ponytail of one large braid that reached past her knees, which she then began to unbraid before letting her hair down entirely; her hair now wavy and free of constraints. She looked between Rowan and Ares for a moment before speaking,

"You know, Rowan, this was actually an excellent idea. I'm sorry I doubted you at first. It's just..a bit much, coming here for the first time." She spoke softly with a sheepish smile.

Rowan gave a wave of dismissal at Serena as he gave a small shake of his head and smiled softly,

"No big deal, Rena. Colkirk is a bit much for anyone to take in at first, especially if you've heard the rumors about this place." He chuckled softly. A small hum of agreement and a nod left Serena,

"Yeah, I suppose that's true. I'm just grateful we have somewhere safe to sleep for the night. That's been harder to come by lately with how much Wings is pursuing us." She sighed softly as she ran a hand through her hair.

Rowan gave a sigh as well as he nodded a bit, then got a lopsided smile,

"Let's focus on how good today was. We found some allies, a possible home base location, our next mission, and we got a good ass stew to eat for dinner. I'd call today a win." He said as his smile turned into more of a grin. Serena nodded a bit before giving a soft smile in return,

"Yes, let's do that." She agreed in a soft tone before looking back as she heard the metal door to the kitchen open loudly once more. Meanwhile, Rowan looked to Ares, who was watching him with a very light pink hue dusting his pale cheeks. As he noticed this, Rowan tilted his head a bit and gave a lopsided grin,

"What's up, Ares?" He asked with a hum, while Ares seemed to nearly jump out of his seat before looking to the ground as he shifted in his seat, 'Damn it! I was staring again! What's wrong with me?' Ares scolded himself as he stared at the ground, his brows scrunching together slightly. Rowan tilted his head once more at Ares's behavior, but before he could ask about it further, Fennala approached with armfuls of blankets; which Serena rushed to stand up and help her with.

A small thanks left Fennala as she then handed Rowan two blankets and gave a small, shy smile,

"I don't know if you still get cold at night, but I thought I'd give you two blankets just in case you still do." She spoke in a soft voice as she glanced away. With a smile, Rowan sat up and accepted the blankets from her,

"Thanks, Nala. You're right, I'm surprised you remembered that though." He chuckled softly and set the folded blankets beside him on the arm of the couch. He was still sitting up and a bit close to Fennala, who seemed very aware of this while Rowan was not, and he gave her a lopsided grin, "Means a lot, so thanks." He hummed.

Fennala looked a bit red in the face as she stared down at Rowan from his sitting position on the couch before she quickly shook her head and gave a sheepish smile,

"No problem, Row." She spoke softly, using his old nickname. She paused before stepping back and smiling softly, "Goodnight, Rowan." She said softly before she began to leave, pausing as Rowan spoke back,

"Goodnight, Nala. Sleep well." He said before leaning back onto the back of the couch and yawning. Fennala made her way out and returned to the kitchen where Xillie was, judging by the familiar sound of the door opening and closing after she left.

Rowan leaned back into the couch and sighed softly as he laid his head back on the couch, looking to the ceiling,

"It's nice seeing them again. Some of the only friends I've ever had." He mumbled, then gave a nervous chuckle as he sat up and looked at the wall, "That came out way more depressing than I meant it to be." He spoke in a lighthearted tone. Serena gave a small shake of her head and smiled softly as she began to unzip her boots before emptying a knife in a holster out of her pocket, along with a few stray Wygen coming out of her pocket as well, "It's alright Rowan, you're just a little depressing sometimes in general, but we love you for it anyways." She lightly joked back.

A small chuckle rumbled from Rowan's throat as his half-lidded eyes were now back on the ceiling. He had moved his head to lean back against the couch once more and seemed to be drifting asleep, "Hmm. Loved, huh? Sounds nice. Any kind of love is nice..knowing you're cared about.." He mumbled more and more until he eventually just fell asleep.

Serena and Ares stared at Rowan with different expressions of surprise at his words; although Ares had more on his mind than he was leading on, 'He needs to never laugh like that again. My heart tried to come out of my throat, what the fuck was that? And.. his muttering.. does that mean he hasn't really had that in the past..? Maybe..that's why we get along so well.' He was watching Rowan with a slightly wide-eyed expression with a very faint blush on his cheeks before he quickly shook his head and looked to the ground.

Meanwhile, Serena had an expression of surprise laced with sadness as her own thoughts ran rampant in her head, 'I didn't mean to say love, we barely know each other...But I think if anyone hurt him I'd have to hurt them back, and he'd absolutely do the same for me. He DID the same for me, he saw me in trouble the first time we met and jumped in to help me without questions. That's just the person he is. Maybe I don't love him..but I sure as hell care about that idiot. Ares too, although he doesn't speak much but his care of Rowan and protection of myself have shown that he's kind. Along with the fact that he avoids landing any blows and simply dodges until his opponent is tired? He's a pacifist. A dragon shifter pacifist; that's not what you're told to think, but you can't believe everything you hear.' Her gaze shifted to Ares, who was staring at the ground still, 'He may love him though. Or, each other, maybe? Something is going on there but I'm not sure either of them have even noticed yet.' She sighed. A small smile came to Serena's face as she tuned back into the world and looked at Ares with a warm smile,

"Let's get to bed Ares, Rowan will scold us in the morning if we don't do so soon." She spoke softly in an attempt to not wake Rowan, although he was a heavy sleeper usually unless there was a sudden noise, they noticed; Talking never woke him, but coughing sure did.

Ares seemed to snap back to reality at Serena's voice before nodding softly,

"Yeah." That was all he said before he stood up, then paused and looked at Rowan. Serena found herself smiling softly, 'He wants to cover him up.' She thought with warmth in her chest as she gathered her own blankets for the night before moving the remaining blankets to the largest couch, where Ares would sleep. Meanwhile, Ares carefully stepped over to Rowan before gently grabbing the blankets off his lap, then began to unfold them and carefully laid them across Rowan's lap to ensure he stayed warm during the night; He also knew of Rowan being cold easily during the night. Rowan barely stirred while Ares did this caring motion towards him, simply humming softly and shifting before falling back to sleep again. Ares couldn't help but smile softly as he stared down at Rowan for a moment; His peaceful expression warming Ares once thought to be cold, and dead heart.

Ares shook his head a bit and stood up before making his way over to the largest couch with the blankets and took his boots off as he sat down on that couch. As his gaze raised to Rowan's sleeping form on the couch and noticed his head slip off the couch and he fixed it before falling asleep again. A small sigh left Ares as he stood up once more before heading over to Rowan and carefully began to take his boots off him. He glanced up occasionally to make sure he didn't wake Rowan, and once he completed this action he set them to the side with a sigh. He stood once more as he scooped Rowan's legs and shifted his upper body to quickly and carefully lay him on the couch, with the cushy armrest as his pillow. Rowan stirred a bit before muttering something unintelligible to Ares, then going to sleep once more, causing Ares to feel his heart stop in his chest.

Ares watched Rowan for a long moment as the heat slowly filled his cheeks, 'Gods he's cute. Wait- Oh, that's not good.' He quickly stood up straight before heading over to his couch and sitting down. He leaned his elbows against his knees and put his head in his hands as he felt his cheeks burn and his heart pound, 'Damn it! I have a crush on him! That's what this is! Oh, God's help me. I wasn't sure at first but I guess I decided! He can't find out. Not when we have important work to do, I don't want anything to distract any of us from our mission. Our goal.' He sighed heavily before running his hands through his hair and pulling his hair tie out of his hair; the one that held the majority of the front of his hair back.

As he raised his gaze he noticed Serena watching him with a smile and an expression he couldn't explain or understand, then she leaned over a bit and spoke softly,

"So, you realized finally?'" She spoke in a teasing tone, causing Ares's face to begin to burn as he huffed softly at her, turning away a bit. A very soft laugh left Serena as she tried to hold back her laughter, not wanting to wake Rowan for a multitude of reasons, "He has no idea, you know. He's a bit of an idiot sometimes when it comes to people's emotions. Fennala likes him too. Did you notice?" She asked in a whisper as she leaned towards Ares.

Ares paused before looking to Serena and nodding softly, his brows knitting together slightly as he muttered,

"Do...you think he likes her?" He barely spoke loud enough for her to hear, and she was sure that was the intention, Serena couldn't help but hold back a laugh before shaking her head,

"Nah, I think he likes her like a sister maybe. He treats her differently than me, but not by much. But I think that's also to accommodate her shy personality. But, don't worry. I think he likes you too." She smiled at Ares as she explained all this. Ares turned his head away a bit and unknowingly let out a breath of relief at her final words, only to sigh and drop his head as he scratched his head a bit. Serena could see his hesitation, "You..you're not going to tell him, are you? I mean, I guess I get it-" She started before Ares interrupted her for the first time ever,

"It's too dangerous." He said simply, sitting up slightly to clasp his hands together and stare down at them. A small sigh left Serena as she nodded,

"Fair enough. I won't stay anything. But if he asks?" She questioned as she looked back to him, causing Ares to pause before nodding softly,

"You can tell him." He spoke softly, feeling as if he was trusting her with his life again as he had done during previous battles. Although, he didn't quite 'need' the protection offered to him by both Serena and Rowan; he was strong on his own. He never had relied on anyone, but he knew they relied on him, and he cared for both of them so he would do his best to ensure neither got hurt.

Ares raised his gaze to Serena's just as she met his and began to speak,

"We have to make sure this doesn't get back to Lady Skel. She'll exploit it, and she already wants him dead." She spoke softly, yet firmly. But Ares simply nodded along before unclasping his hands and letting them hang as he sighed and looked to the floor,

"Yeah." He agreed quietly. Serena watched him for a moment before sighing,

"I don't think telling him would be such a bad idea, but I'll keep my promise. I won't say anything unless he asks." She offered Ares a small smile, who glanced in her direction and gave a small nod of acknowledgment towards her.

There was a pause of silence between the two before Serena spoke, breaking it, "Let's get some sleep Ares, there's plenty to do tomorrow." She said softly before laying down on her couch and getting comfortable so she could sleep. Ares simply gave a grunt of response and lingered in his position on the side of the couch for a minute or so before moving onto the couch to lie down.

He covered himself with the blanket and covered himself up to his hips, with the end tucked under his feet, then turned to face the couch and settled into it before falling asleep. Serena's sleep followed behind him soon after, once he had settled into 'bed' for the night, she found herself able to relax and sleep as well.

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"Lady Skel, the men tracking your 'little problem', lost them outside Colkirk. They were hesitant to step inside without your orders." Came the monotone and deep voice of a young man. The man himself had hair that was slightly longer, shaggy, and straight, while his eyes were a piercing red; similar to scarlet. Little of his face could be seen due to his mask, and the rest of his body remained hidden in the shadows against the large concrete walls, the moonlight just casting enough light inside some of the base that the hallways could be seen; while others were lit with torches that held purple flames, which gave little light beside a dim glow. Some simply had candles on tables on either or both ends of the hallway, while these held regular colored flames compared to the purple flamed torches, and most hallways had heavy wood doors to them.

But this room? This one was different. This room had windows in the ceiling above that allowed the moonlight to pour in and highlight the concrete throne centered in the back of the room. The throne itself looked rather plain, except for a long plush black pillow that was glued onto the seat of the chair and went up the back a bit, undoubtedly making it more comfortable for the user. Inside the room were four men in hooded robes standing at posts; two on either side of the throne, and two on either side of the large wood doors used to enter the room. On the center of the floor was a large moon carved into the stone, with the moon divided into three sections, with ancient symbols carved in a circle around the moon; and the moonlight was shining on this as well. The room had sparse decorations, but statues of knights lined the entranceway of the room; although many of them had inhuman features among their armor, such as tails and horns. Besides this, little other decor was in the room except for a few banners on the walls.

Lady Skel herself, the woman in black, wore her usual black cloak over her head as her long black dress sleeves covered her hands; one of them anyway, and the other was holding a book while she paced the room. She ceased her pacing and looked to the man who had dared to speak her name, but she let out a sigh of frustration at his words,

"No. Don't send anyone in." She said firmly as she loudly closed her book with one hand before setting it on the arm of her throne. She glided over to the throne as her black cloak slightly trailed on the ground behind her, then sat down on the edge. She rested both hands on either arm of the throne, looking at the male with a firm gaze,

"I know it's not my place, Lady Skel.. but couldn't they have gone inside?" He asked softly, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice, earning a heavy sigh from the woman on the throne. She raised one of her hands to her face and rubbed the bridge of her nose,

"No, Noir. With Rowan as their leader, they're likely to avoid such a place. Over the weeks we've been tracking him he's avoided it every time, why would he change that now? Besides, he's not an intelligent one. That's been proven over the series of attempts to eliminate him, but what he has is talent fighting." She sighed heavily in frustration and dropped her hand back onto the concrete her elbow rested against as she raised her gaze to the man.

He seemed undisturbed by her intense stare and harsh tone, and instead offered his thoughts,

"Perhaps they've taken a turn to the east and gone to Willowdale? That is the closest city to that hell pit." He offered his ideas before silencing himself as he noticed Lady Skel turn her head from him and lean back a bit as her head tilted strangely,

‘Colkrik is still burning? We lit that place up years ago! What's it been, nearly 1000 years now? Boy! There must be a lot of coal in that place. I wonder if anything still standing-' A deep dark voice echoed from within Lady Skel's head, but she cut it off before it could continue,

"Shut up!" She shouted, causing the man in the room to shift a bit as he seemed to jump a bit. He said nothing though and simply waited for her to sort things out within herself.

Lady Skel pinched the bridge of her nose as she rested her elbow on the armrest of the throne before taking a slow, deep breath. She then muttered, "Not now Sarg, We have business to attend to.", although her words were heard by the man in the room he reacted little besides a small quirk of his left brow. The voice within Lady Skel hummed softly, 'You are right. But, we must discuss this further tonight. I can't believe it's still burning!' Laughed the dark voice as its voice became multiple during the laugh at the end; a sound that would send a chill down the spine of most people, a dark and menacing aura behind the cheerful glee in his tone.

A heavy sigh left Lady Skel as she crossed one leg over the other and she continued to pinch the bridge of her nose as her facial features scrunched slightly in anger and frustration, "Focus." She snapped in an angry whisper. A laugh echoed within her skull, one that gave her a headache sometimes, 'Yes, yes, we shall focus on this conversation about the thorn in our side.' It hummed in its deep tone.

She raised her brightly glowing purple eyes to look at the man in the shadows, her entire focus on him finally, "Nior, I agree with your plan of Willowdale. We'll send eight of our level fives. Perhaps numbers can overwhelm them? Meanwhile," She sat up properly and her gaze became more intense as it focused on Nior, who flinched none as she focused on him; he was used to her intense stares by this point. He tilted his head at her though, wondering what her 'meanwhile' could possibly mean, until she spoke it, "I want you to go to base C, the one outside Cokirk. If reports are true and they are out they are out that way, and that base is in danger of them finding it. Although it's unlikely they'll survive much further than the first hallway, I would feel much more...comfortable, if you personally kept an eye on the place. One week, that's all I ask of you now. Easy enough job, yes? You have to do little more than watch the camera's in the security room, and defend it with your life should they make it close." Her voice was light in feeling and intense in feeling at the same time.

The importance of the job was clear to him, especially because she was bribing him in a way as well to convince him to agree; although truly, he wasn't sure he had a choice,

"Yes, Lady Skel. I'll remain there as long as you need." He spoke in a monotone voice, but there was a hint of determination behind it. He wouldn't let her down, he hadn't yet.

"Good. Thank you, Noir. You may leave now. Go rest in one of the spare chambers, should you need to." She smiled, but it had a wickedness to it that made Noir feel a bit sick to his stomach for a moment. Of course, he didn't show it, he simply gave a nod,

"Thank you, Lady Skel. But I would like the comfort of my own home and bed. I bid you farewell and goodnight." He nodded his head at her but lingered for a moment. Once Lady Skel turned her gaze away from him and sighed, he took that as his cue to leave and silently did so.

The room was almost silent for several minutes before Lady Skel let out a sigh once more,

"Alright, Sarg, what would you like to know?" Her voice rang out softly in the air as she leaned her back against the back of the throne, slumping slightly.

#oc fanfiction #oc fanfic #original story #fantasy #lgbtq story

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