#the ones who told me I was writing him perfectly IC but I was doing character bashing

[seyaryminamoto]

The Shadows in her Reflection: Sokkla Saturdays 2023

Day 5: Fire

Rated: M

On FF.net//On AO3

A/N:

Recent developments in ATLA's canon have basically decreed that this canon/comics-compliant fic is, of course, no longer canon/comics-compliant. This is no surprise to anyone, I'm sure. It's not even that the changes were huge, they weren't, but there's certainly one important difference between this story and the comic that I'd like to... talk about, I guess?

Azula's Kemurikage group, the Fire Warriors, what have you, have always been an awkward team due to the absolute lack of personality, development and fleshing out of how, exactly, they ever ended up working together. Azula broke them out of the asylum: why did they follow her afterwards? No one knows. Did she get along with any of them? No one knows. Everything is a huge question mark and, unfortunately, the new comic basically did nothing to answer these questions. Instead, it twists them even more by featuring the team being perfectly normal, adjusted, decent individuals while Azula is the only one who is a terrible, no-good person. This invites new questions: why were they in the asylum at all if there's no sign of mental illness or any unusual behavior in these people? Were they locked up under false pretenses of mental illness? If so, that should be fleshed out a bit more, right? Maybe being sent to an asylum when they were 100% okay, mentally speaking, is what makes people like them crave vengeance against the system!

... But that's not really how it reads, and it ends up proposing an interpretation of these characters that I frankly can't describe as anything but shrugworthy. Somehow they're not competent enough to avoid capture but they're competent enough to break free their imprisoned member, without Azula's help...? It's all too convenient, I'd say.

Point of all this is... the Zirin I wrote in this chapter was very much written over a month ago, probably two months ago instead. The character I decided to portray was not going to be a perfectly normal cute girl who loves her friends, because someone with that kind of personality doesn't make a lot of sense joining rogue Azula's terrorist group, if you ask me. I've constantly used Zirin's only line at Yang's hands to decide how to portray her, in which she comes off as brash, harsh, impatient, goal-oriented and willing to defy Azula. In this story, I've granted her a certain unique danger as a firebender that clearly is of my invention and has nothing to do with her canon portrayal. I'm saying all this to make it very clear that I understand how different this character turned out to be in the newest comic, and I acknowledge those differences... but I'm not rewriting this chapter, or this whole story, just to make a terrorist gang look like innocent little lambs who were just guided by a bad shepherd. If they could walk away as easily as they did, I don't understand what was keeping them with Azula in the first place.

Anyway. That would be that, as far as author's notes are concerned here. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

A tense silence hung in the air as Azula's placid mood shifted rapidly: she glared at her brother, whose golden gaze carried a mercilessness in it that starkly reminded her of someone else… someone he would do best not to try to imitate in any way.

That cruelty diminished when he turned his attention towards Ursa: his brow drew together slightly, puzzled by her presence around Azula, but he stepped towards her, reaching a protective hand to his mother's shoulder, as though to reel her to safety, away from his sister.

"I didn't know you were here…" Zuko said, his voice softer now. "Are you okay? Did she do anything to you?"

"She… no! Of course not!" Ursa exclaimed, startling Azula by her vehement, firm response. Zuko froze, eyes wide – the last thing he'd known about their bond, of course, was that Azula wanted to kill her own mother…

"W-well… good, then," Zuko said, still urging Ursa to pull away from the table she had been sitting at with Azula…

She didn't move.

"Mom?" Zuko frowned, glancing at Azula with eyes that turned from confused to accusatory in a heartbeat – he thought she'd done something to twist his beloved mother's mind, did he? As usual…

"What is the meaning of this?" Ursa huffed, shaking Zuko's hand off and folding her arms across her chest. "What do you think you're doing, Zuko?"

"What…?" Zuko scowled. "Mom, it's Azula! She's a hazard to your safety, to everyone's safety! You knew that, you've known that for years, she's been causing unnecessary trouble and chaos all across the Fire Nation and…!"

He faltered, frowning more heavily as the utterly confusing situation started to sink in: Azula… sitting placidly at a table with their mother. No screaming, no crying, no accusations, no murder attempts…

He froze on the spot, staring at Azula as though she'd suddenly twist herself into some manner of wicked spirit that could shapeshift as it pleased. Naturally, no such thing happened.

"And she's your sister. My daughter," Ursa said, firmly. Azula's heart jolted upon hearing her speak those words with such confidence. "And you? As far as I've understood, you issued out actual wanted posters asking for her death, Zuko? Did you, truly?"

For once, Zuko paled and backed down. It was almost amusing to see the Fire Lord balking over his mother's fury… but Azula couldn't help but dread whatever Zuko's ultimate reaction to this apparent betrayal might be.

"I… look, I've learned since then that I was wrong in some of my assumptions, but I only did that because it looked like she had kidnapped Sokka!" Zuko exclaimed. "Which… damn it. Guards! Search for Sokka in the rest of the house. Is he here, or did you ditch him somewhere when you had no use for him anymore?"

His snarl towards Azula displeased Ursa, but Azula wouldn't simply hide behind her mother throughout this conversation. Instead, she smirked at his words.

"What makes you think I'd find no more use for him?" she said. "He's a rather helpful ally…"

"What the hell did you do to him? How did you get into his head?" Zuko huffed, glaring at her. "Sokka wouldn't have teamed up with you willingly, leaving his sister to think you'd have kidnapped or killed him…!"

"I was led to believe that he'd written a letter to explain he was leaving. If she overreacted to it? That's no fault of his…" Azula shrugged. Zuko scoffed.

"Everything about Sokka's disappearance was fishy as hell! And then I find out that the two of you have been traveling all over the place, trying to shake off pursuit…!"

"That's not what we were doing," Azula said, hands on her hips. "At least, not at first. We certainly had to put more effort into shaking it off once you and your unhelpful guards turned up, but we weren't always shaking off annoyances, that's for sure…"

"None of this makes a smidge of sense," Zuko said, glaring at her. "But whatever you've deceived him with, whatever nonsense you've done to manipulate him, it's over now: we either do this the good way or the bad way, Azula."

Azula scowled: the guards near Zuko were ready to chain her down, were they? Never again. Whatever she had to do to stop them from…

"Absolutely not!"

Azula froze: again, Ursa's demeanor and determination to protect her caught her off guard, much as it did Zuko.

Then, that surprise increased all the more when her mother clasped her hand, urging her to stand behind her… offering herself as a shield to the disbelieving Azula, as a wall to overcome for the utterly aghast Zuko.

"Mom! W-what are you doing?!" Zuko exclaimed: the guards behind him, whether brandishing weapons or shackles, hesitated to move now.

"I'm doing what I have to do! What you're making me do, I'd dare say!" Ursa declared. "What do you think you're doing, treating your sister this way? I don't care what terrible things you think she has done, she's your sister! Stand down and tell those guards to put aside those horrible shackles!"

"Mom… come to your senses. Whatever she's told you…!" Zuko said, pleadingly. Ursa snarled.

"She has told me the truth! She has been honest, human, real, in ways most people refuse to be around me, these days!" Ursa exclaimed, startling Zuko. "I… I have a chance, for once, to do right by Azula and you will never persuade me not to take it! Whatever you intend to do to her, you'll do it to me first! Be it imprisonment, or moreover, execution!"

"Mom!" Zuko's eyes were struck with utter horror… whereas Azula's widened with amazement: could her mother truly be that courageous when she wanted to be? That was a rather pleasant surprise. If Zuko had been Ozai, he would have laughed in her face and subjected her to the exact treatment she had demanded…

"You are a better man than this," Ursa declared, firmly. "I know you are. So either you listen to me now and stand down… or you're losing me, just as much as you're willing to lose Azula."

That threat, evidently, didn't sit well with the Fire Lord: he glared at Azula in confusion, in horror… did he think Azula had taken Ursa from him? If he hadn't grown up at all, he might just believe that. Azula truly wondered if he might conclude something like that…

"You don't have to…" Zuko said, staring at Ursa in chagrin. "Why are you doing this? Mom…"

"Because it was about time I did," Ursa said, fists tight. "I've never been the mother she deserves. I never have been the one you deserve, either… but even if she doesn't truly need me, it won't change that I finally know what I want to do, and who I want to be, now that I can be part of her life anew. I never imagined the first person I'd have to defend her from would be you, Zuko… but I'm not afraid to do it."

Zuko stepped back, confused betrayal plain across his features: to this day, he prized the approval of those he admired and loved far more than would ever be healthy, Azula suspected. He didn't know what to do, or how to react to the possibility that his sister would have anyone on her side anymore… let alone that the person standing with her would be none other than his mother.

But the gravity of the situation didn't sink in properly for him. No, it couldn't possibly do that… not after a rather unflattering scream pierced their ears, drifting from the direction of Sokka's room.

"Sokka…!" Azula gasped: had he still been resting? Oh, she hoped he had at least been about to come out for breakfast by the time the soldiers stormed the room…

Naturally, Sokka's luck wouldn't favor him: he pulled the covers up to his chest, bashful and confused when several guards barged into the room, hands raised in defensive katas until they flinched out of form over what they found.

"W-what the hell is this?!" Sokka squealed. "Get out! Go away! W-where did all of you even come from, what…?!"

Heavier footsteps down the corridor marched straight to the room: Sokka had no time to prepare himself, or hide better under the bed, when Zuko marched in, unceremoniously.

He froze on the spot, face paling, upon finding Sokka's upper body appeared to be bare.

"W-what…? Sokka?!" Zuko squealed.

"Zuko! You… you can't just invade someone's privacy this way!" Sokka squealed, cheeks flushed as he struggled to find any way out of this predicament.

"Y-you're just… asleep? You didn't even notice we were raiding the place…?!" Zuko exclaimed… eyes drifting around the room warily to find clothing items scattered all around. His eyebrow twitched at the sight of a very evident male undergarment… "Sokka?"

"Yes?" Sokka said, with a small voice.

"Are you naked under that sheet?" Zuko asked, a dangerous glint in the harshness of his glare. Sokka winced. "You… you were naked, in a house with my mother and my sister?! That's what's going on, you idiot?!"

"I…! I…!" Sokka struggled to come up with anything to say, anything at all: he couldn't possibly fight Zuko off like this, he had no weapons at hand, for they were in his actual room… for this was Azula's, actually. Half the clothes scattered around were hers…

Zuko might notice that sooner than later. If he did, he'd realize he had slept with Azula, and then Sokka would be dragged out of here and paraded as a heathen all across town for inappropriate behavior… well, perhaps the townsfolk wouldn't really judge him for that, considering the previous day's festival, but Zuko would certainly judge him non-stop for it. He might even declare him a criminal in the Fire Nation for desecrating the Princess's virtue, as estranged as she might be from her family…

Said Princess, however, suddenly burst into the room, pushing past her brother and startling Sokka with her arrival, welcome as it might be, even if it terrified him too. It suddenly crossed his mind that she would have been better off running away, out of Zuko's reach, out of sight… he would capture her otherwise. She wouldn't be safe…

And yet she seemed to be here to protect him, instead.

"No need… to kick up a ruckus," Azula said, spreading her arms in a defensive gesture as she stood between Sokka and Zuko, without sparing even a glance over her shoulder at her lover. "Sokka is just… unrefined that way!"

"He… you're not telling me that you two have been traveling together for months and he's been constantly sleeping naked near you, are you?!" Zuko squealed, his face a mask of disgust. Azula gritted her teeth as she sought to spin her lie far better than she had…

"I only do it in the Fire Nation!" Sokka suddenly exclaimed, picking up her slack when she faltered briefly. "It's… way too hot around here! So, I just wanted to sleep comfortably and I did it this way! Nothing more to it!"

"Oh, really? And my sister and my mother being here didn't deter you from acting like a creep?!" Zuko asked. Azula scoffed as Sokka processed now that Ursa was back already…

"How do you know that neither me nor Mother do the same thing in the privacy of our rooms?" Azula asked. Zuko yelped. "The three of us might just have a perfect understanding when it comes to preferences in attire, or lack thereof, during nighttime, and we can very well keep… proper, respectful boundaries, in those instances. Such as not barging into other people's rooms without at least knocking first."

"Y-you…" Zuko grimaced, glaring at Sokka with disgust again. Sokka smiled, waving at him, still holding the sheet to his chest. "You have a lot to answer for, Sokka. I mean it."

"Yeah, yeah, well, unless you want me to answer it with my business hanging out in plain sight, I suggest we discuss that later," Sokka smiled awkwardly. Zuko winced, shaking his head in disgust as he turned around.

"Everyone, out! Sokka, get dressed, and come out here to answer for this mess!" Zuko bellowed. "And if you try to run away, I'll… I'll hunt you down all over again! Understood?"

"Geez, fine, damn it, so loud and authoritarian…" Sokka sighed, shaking his head: Zuko shot him one last glare over his shoulder before stepping out of the room. The guards followed… and Azula lingered behind, even though they kept watching her from the corridor, in case either one did anything dangerous. Sokka smiled sadly at her, and Azula responded in kind.

"He just barged in a while ago. Don't even know how he found us yet, but…" Azula said. Sokka sighed. "Go on, get dressed. I have no idea what's going to happen next, but… at least Mom seems to be keeping Zuko at bay, mostly."

"Heh. Come to think of it, he's one hell of a momma's boy, isn't he?" Sokka smirked. Azula smiled at his statement. "You have a reliable ally in Ursa, if she meant what she said yesterday… though I'm surprised she's already here."

"She came by early. Tried to cook. Didn't really go so well," Azula explained. "Anyway, so far she's on our side, and we might just be safe, to a fault, for as long as she is. So… dress up and get ready for anything. I don't know what Zuko's going to react like, going forward."

"Okay… okay," Sokka nodded. Azula nodded back, wistfully gazing at him before walking through the doorway and marching away – she would have gladly kissed him, helped him dress up, but not under those guards' watchful glares.

They hadn't really talked about keeping their relationship secret, but it seemed an obvious decision to do so, particularly when they hadn't truly settled the terms of their dynamic yet. It was difficult to label it as anything specific, after all. By the time they decided on those things, they'd also decide on whether to keep matters quiet still, or be entirely open about what they meant to each other…

After around ten minutes – Sokka had to dress in his same clothes from the previous night, to then return to his actual room and change into a proper, clean outfit there –, the Water Tribesman returned to the kitchen area, where the Fire Nation Royals remained at a standstill. The guards had backed off out of the room, providing them with more privacy than before. Zuko glared pointedly at Sokka, who held his hands up defensively.

"No need to be so cranky, Zuko. Curses, you'd think I took a dump on your favorite portrait or something," Sokka huffed.

"Heh. Might as well do it if he keeps treating you that way, at least you'd earn the scowls fair and square," Azula smirked at him. Sokka snorted, shaking his head as he laughed at her remark.

"You two…" Zuko snarled, as Sokka fastened his hair into its proper wolf's tail.

Azula bit her lip as she watched him, probably more shamelessly than she should have. The way his muscles flexed… and curses, as used as she had become to seeing him with his hair down as they traveled, as shocked as she had been by how well it complemented his features, now she realized the attraction she had experienced towards him hadn't diminished in the least now that his hair was tied up again.

"What?" Sokka pouted, hands on his hips once he was done fixing his hair. "Got a problem with my, uh, partnership with Azula?"

"What the hell are you even partners for?!" Zuko squealed. "Sokka, come back to your senses, can you? Mom, well, she's Mom! She's protecting her kid, but you? What do you get out of all of this?"

"Me?" Sokka started: the immediate, obvious answer could not be spoken. He felt Azula's keen stare on him, and his cheeks flushed as he struggled how to convey something that wouldn't set off Zuko any more than he already was…

"And you!" Zuko scoffed, glaring at Azula next. "Of all people, you… joined up with Sokka. Sokka! You two are… well, not the biggest mismatched pair of all time because you clearly are thrilled to be terrible influences on each other, as your last exchange proved…!"

"Come on, now, I'm far worse for him than he ever could hope to be for me…" Azula said, bringing Sokka to smile fondly at her.

"Point is, you two used to not want anything to do with each other and I'm not exactly aware of when the hell that changed," Zuko growled. "Or why, for that matter."

"Uh… you wouldn't believe it, I think, if we explained," Sokka swallowed hard, glancing at Azula with uncertainty. She sighed.

"Promise you won't drag me by the hair to the asylum or anywhere of the sort if we do explain…?" Azula said. Ursa, beside her, winced.

"He won't do any such thing to you. He can't. And if he ever tries to take you elsewhere, I'll see to stopping him," Ursa said. Zuko flinched: Ursa being on his sister's side was devastating, infuriating, even…

"Mom…" he said, pleadingly.

"The thing is, I… have been seeing visions of someone," Azula said, with a dry grin. "Someone Sokka was close to. And it's not just random visions, but a strange, mysterious, deeper connection than that…"

"The hell are you talking about?" Zuko grimaced. Sokka sighed.

"Azula is connected to Yue," he said. Zuko's eyes widened, and he turned his attention to Sokka again.

"What? Yue? The girlfriend who turned into the moon?" Zuko asked, confused. "Wait. Azula? What the hell did you do?! Is that weird thing with the moon darkening or fading from the sky your fault?!"

"Right! Because I'm so damn powerful that I can annihilate the moon altogether, isn't that right?" Azula said, with a sardonic smile. Sokka stepped forward, placing a placating hand on Zuko's shoulder.

"Azula didn't do anything intentionally. We don't actually understand what happened to the moon. As far as Yue explained to her, a comet crashed into it somehow and maybe that's what started all this," Sokka said. Zuko scoffed.

"And how do you know it's really Yue?" Zuko nearly squealed. "She could be tricking you!"

"Right! Let's see: did you ever tell your sister about Yue?" Sokka asked. Zuko frowned. "My relationship with Yue wasn't exactly public knowledge, you know? Only a handful of people were aware of it, mostly people close to me, and the only one among those people who has frequently crossed paths with Azula is you. How did she know Yue and I had anything going on if none of you told her, huh?"

"I… don't know! Azula has ways of figuring things out! She's smart in… messed up ways!" Zuko huffed, shaking a hand in Azula's direction. The Princess rolled her eyes and drew the mirror from her pocket.

"No doubt I'm smart enough to know exact details about how Sokka flirted by asking to do 'an activity' with Yue, huh?" Azula said. Sokka blushed a little, though he smiled fondly at the embarrassing memory.

"An activity?" Zuko repeated. "Is that some kind of… innuendo?"

"What? No! Get your head out of the gutter!" Sokka winced, lightly shoving Zuko for his remark. "Seriously, dude, we were just kids! I had no idea what I was doing, so I said something dumb and silly and… it's endearing, damn you! That's all it was!"

"Yue certainly agrees," Azula smiled. Sokka grinned back at her, and Zuko brought a hand to his forehead.

"All I'm getting out of this is… she figured out your weakness. And she's manipulating you through it," Zuko said, with a dry grin: both Sokka and Azula glared at him, unamused by his assumption.

"You really underestimate Sokka's mind that much?" Azula said. "Tell me again, why are you friends with my brother, exactly, Sokka?"

"If he keeps that up, maybe I won't be one for much longer," Sokka grumbled. "You know what? Azula! Did I ever tell you about what Zuko did in the North Pole?"

"Uh… no. I kind of forgot he was there for the siege, come to think of it," Azula said, raising an eyebrow. "Mustn't have been very impactful if I can't remember any reports of anything noteworthy he did…"

"More like he did something incredibly stupid that he most likely doesn't want us to bring up…" Sokka said, staring at Zuko sternly. Zuko grimaced.

"Look, I was another person back then…!"

"Ask Yue to tell you, Azula. Go on," Sokka said.

Azula blinked blankly, glancing at the mirror. Yue grimaced.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. My brother's on the verge of a nervous breakdown, maybe, but I'm alright," Azula said. Yue smiled warmly. "Did you hear the question?"

"I did, and I… I do remember what happened. It's not very flattering for your brother, though…"

"Any unflattering stories about Zuzu are worth his weight in gold," Azula declared. Zuko snarled at her, but her attention remained on the mirror. "Go on, tell me."

With that, Yue began her retelling. Zuko glared at her as Azula raised her eyebrows slowly.

"She says… she was with Katara when the Avatar started meditating in the oasis," Azula began. Zuko's eyes widened. "Says she panicked about Aang crossing over suddenly, he was glowing and all… and that's when Zuko showed up. Huh. Apparently, you mocked Katara and said she was a 'big girl now' because she was confident that she could protect the Avatar by herself?"

"Woah, woah, woah… you said WHAT to my sister?!" Sokka squeaked. "I didn't know that part!"

"I…!" Zuko's cheeks reddened: Sokka hadn't been there to hear that, it was true…

"That is incredibly inappropriate. Shame on you, Zuzu," Azula said, before focusing on the mirror again. Sokka's eyebrow twitched as he stared down his friend ruthlessly. "Alright, then… Yue says she left, but Katara explained later that you defeated her once the sun rose and then took Aang forcibly even though they weren't supposed to move his body at all, so he'd know where to return once he came back. Why was he going to the Spirit World to begin with…? Uh… oh. Huh. He wanted to get help from spirits to defeat the Fire Nation forces, then. Anyway, after that… Katara, Yue and Sokka flew on Appa to find you, because you ran off through the tundra. They found you by some cave and… heh. Yue says Katara beat you in a single move. Nicely done."

"That was very gratifying to see," Sokka said, with a dry grin. Zuko groaned, covering his face with a hand.

"And after that… you and Katara wanted to leave Zuko to freeze to death?" Azula asked, glancing at Sokka in disbelief. "Yue… apparently had no opinion on the matter. Aang's the only reason why Zuko didn't actually just… wow."

"Let's just say, months of being chased by someone makes you very unfriendly towards them," Sokka said. "But you know what's funny, Zuko? I actually regret having said that nowadays. Even if I know why I did it, and I don't think there was any way I wouldn't have, under those circumstances… ultimately, I'm glad you survived. I'm glad you're here, and that we became friends when we did."

Zuko eyed him with uncertainty, aware already that Sokka was going down a rather unpleasant road with that particular reasoning…

"So, as hard as it can be for you to fathom that maybe someday you'll look back on your relationship with your sister and feel the same way about it? I can guarantee that I already reached that stage," Sokka said, arms folded over his chest. "She's the real deal. She's not lying to me, I know she's not. That's Yue in her mirror, in her reflections, in her dreams… it is her. And we're traveling together so we can help Yue see all the sights and places she never could while she was alive, so she can experience the cycle of the seasons, all those things!"

"Right," Zuko grunted, his eyebrow twitching. "And what happens after Yue's had her fill? Do we go back to terrorism, Azula?"

"I…" Azula gritted her teeth, and Sokka scoffed. "I know it's hard to believe I don't intend to do that, but I… won't do that. Not anymore."

"You really don't need to talk to her that way, damn you," Sokka huffed.

"It's going to take a while to convince you of anything, I know it will, but…" Azula said, breathing deeply. "I don't feel the need to do that sort of stuff nowadays. And yes, that doesn't fix all the chaos I caused…"

"You messed with Uncle Iroh not that long ago!" Zuko exclaimed. Azula winced, and Sokka snorted.

"Come on, now. What she did there wasn't terrorism, it was… a prank," he said, with a shrug.

"A surprisingly tame and yet amusing one, at that," Ursa agreed. Azula grimaced, eyeing her mother with uncertainty.

"Here I thought you'd found it terrible too…" she said. Ursa huffed, shaking her head with certainty.

"Zuko is concerned, or should be, about things that endanger the Fire Nation," she said. "I hardly see how a playful, if ill-spirited prank, could achieve that."

"Don't make excuses for her!" Zuko groaned. "Mom…!"

"Making excuses?" Ursa asked, raising her eyebrows. "Do tell… what did you do, exactly, when I told you about how my terrible, no-good choices had resulted in your father treating you as poorly as he did?"

Zuko froze. Ursa smiled sardonically.

"I told you I was unforgivable. You said you disagreed. You made excuses. You said I had no choice," she said.

"But that's different…!"

"Yes: what I did to you and your sister was far worse than what Azula did to Iroh," Ursa finished. Zuko groaned. "So, for that matter…"

"Why the hell are you both so determined to protect her from me?" Zuko exclaimed, looking at them helplessly. "When did I become the bad guy in this situation?"

"Why, I would gladly say you're not… but you certainly pushed your tiles to that corner when you issued out wanted posters calling for her to be caught dead or alive," Ursa said. Zuko winced.

"Well, I don't really want her dead! I just don't want her endangering anyone, simple as that!"

"You just saw she's not doing that right now, so for that matter, you can just as well leave the way you came," Sokka said. Zuko scoffed.

"Your sister's worried sick about you," Zuko said. Sokka winced. "And you have a lot of answers to give her too. Me? I'd rather focus on my own sister, but if you would be so kind and go back to Republic City, talk to Katara and Aang, and tell them what's going on…"

"Yeah, no. I'm not leaving Azula," Sokka said, firmly. Her cheeks flushed upon hearing his certainty. Zuko snarled.

"If you don't trust me to be reasonable with her, at least trust that my mother will keep me in check!" Zuko exclaimed. "Besides…! Why the hell are you standing up for her like this? Why are you so sure that you're making the right choice here? Sokka…"

"Do you really think you know the first thing about Azula?" Sokka asked. Azula scowled.

"If he doesn't, you're not about to start giving things away, now, are you?" Azula scoffed. Sokka shrugged.

"Nah, but… I'm just saying, he doesn't understand how I spent months with you, does he?" Sokka said. "And not only do we not hate each other after all that, we're getting along great! At least, on the most part."

"What's that supposed to mean? In what regards do you not get along…?" Zuko scowled. Sokka ignored him.

"My point is, if your own brother has no idea why I'm protective of you, maybe that's the very reason why I should be," Sokka said. Azula raised an eyebrow. "I'm not letting anything bad happen to you."

"Nor will I," Ursa said. Zuko snarled, rubbing his brow in frustration.

"What makes anyone think I'm going to…? Ugh!" he growled, shaking his head in disbelief. "I still don't understand how exactly I'm the bad guy here, but have it your way!"

"Zuko…" Azula called him, earning herself a resentful glare. "If I agree to go with you for questioning, or whatever you want from me… what would my status be, exactly? Would you deem me your prisoner, or…?"

"I…" Zuko gritted his teeth: evidently, affirming that last question would be utterly stupid. But what would she be, if not a prisoner? He sighed, shaking his head. "You'd be… an honored guest. That's what."

He spoke the words with poorly contained bitterness. Azula sighed, hands on her hips as Ursa scrutinized her son intently.

"Whatever you intend to inflict upon her, you'll subject me to it first," Ursa said. Zuko pouted. "I figured I'd remind you of that. But if Azula is an honored guest, I'll probably be pleased with my own treatment too."

Zuko snarled, rubbing his brow with his fingertips and shaking his head. Even the sight of her son in apparent distress didn't change Ursa's tune.

"Whatever. I… I'll wait for you outside. Get your things, if you have any. You're coming back to the Palace with me. Guests," Zuko reiterated, with a dry grin, before turning on his heels and leaving the room – clearly, he needed some time to himself to stew over the shocking betrayal of seeing his mother taking Azula's side to that extent.

"Well, that wasn't a total disaster. Almost, but not in the end," Sokka said, smiling awkwardly before turning towards Azula. "You okay?"

"I'm… I'm fine. Which is not what I expected to say after being face-to-face with Zuko again," Azula admitted, raising her eyebrows. She turned towards her mother, who still seemed slightly displeased… "You didn't have to go that far…"

"What, you mean by telling him he'd have to do to me anything he did to you?" Ursa asked. "Considering that was what it took for him to restrain that hostility… I suspect I did have to."

"Heh," Azula said, with a weak grin. "You might just have lost your mind slightly, then."

"Maybe it's Zuko who did," Sokka said. "We're, uh, going with him? You sure? I mean, even if I know it wouldn't be the nicest thing to do, we could run away now…"

"No. I think running now would seal my fate, who knows if yours too, as an enemy of the Fire Nation," Azula said. "If this is the first and only time that I'll have a chance to settle things with Zuko, I'd do best to take it."

"Well, if you say so. But I'm standing by you through and through," Sokka said, stubbornly. Azula smiled at those words, perhaps more fondly than she should have.

"You'd better hold some of that back. He's going to start, well… suspecting that you weren't sleeping like that just because the weather is too warm," Azula said, cheeks flushing. Sokka winced, eyes flickering towards Ursa warily. She eyed them with a knowing grin.

"Well, that's for the two of you to discuss. I'm sure you'll figure out a plan on what to do, going forward," Ursa said. "I'll keep an eye on Zuko and make certain that he's not combusting over this. Go gather your things. Mine are at the inn, after all… oh, but finish the mochi at least before we go, Azula. They're edible, if nothing else is…"

"And Zuko cut me off just as I was having them… that's a bigger crime than any I ever committed," Azula groaned, eyeing her guilty pleasure sweets with longing.

"What about you?" Sokka asked Ursa. "You'll eat something, or…?"

"I'll make Zuko's staff feed me, why not?" Ursa smirked. "It's still early anyway. I'll have them set up proper breakfasts for the two of you later. Maybe I'll even stay and watch how they make the meals, that way, once we're on the road again after Zuko lets us go, I'll be able to cook some food…"

"You… w-wait, what?" Sokka blinked blankly. Ursa raised an eyebrow.

"Oh. Uh. Well, you'll have to discuss that first," she said, with an awkward grin. "I'm sure you'll want to have a say upon that. I'll just… go now."

"Right…?" Sokka watched Ursa walk away with confusion… but he turned his eyes on the blushing Azula before the woman was out of sight. "I guessed I'd missed a lot of things, but that's a bit more than I expected. What was that?"

"Well… we talked. It's probably the best conversation I've ever had with her," Azula said. "I never really thought she might be plagued by her own set of troubles, truth be told. It seems she's a little lost in life, too. Might be expected for someone to feel that way, after having two lives to conciliate into one…"

"Might be," Sokka agreed, nodding. "And after getting to understand her better, does she understand you a little better too?"

"I think my outburst from last night saw to that," Azula sighed, leading Sokka back to the corridors where the rooms were. "I, uh… I'm sorry I blew up as I did. I may have inflicted a lot more strife upon you both than I should have."

"I wouldn't call it that," Sokka said, eyeing her with heartfelt compassion. "I'm sorry too, I kind of antagonized you and pushed too hard when we were alone later too…"

"I'm glad you did," Azula said. Sokka raised his eyebrows. "Though you're starting to grow a little too good at understanding whatever I need, whenever I need it. It's, uh… disconcerting."

"Heh. It's always nice to know I'm surprising you in a good way," Sokka grinned. Azula smiled back at him. "But… you really seem calmer now. Was it Ursa, or…?"

"Actually… it was Yue."

Sokka froze, uncertain of what those words meant. Azula, however, smiled as she shook her head in his direction.

"Does it ever bother you, being right about things as often as you are?" she asked. Sokka blushed slightly.

"About… which things?" he asked.

"She doesn't hate me for… well, us. She actually… asked me what sleeping with you had been like, the utter weirdo," Azula laughed. Sokka smiled, cheeks flushing further upon hearing that. "I apologized, but she… she didn't need apologies. She didn't feel betrayed. She said she loved you… and that she loved me, too."

Sokka's eyes widened, though his heart soared upon hearing that: of course Yue would love Azula. Of course she would have grown to see what he had, surely far earlier too…

"Seems like she really just wants us to be happy together, so… guess we'll have to figure out how to achieve that, huh?" Azula smiled teasingly at him. Sokka chuckled, shrugging.

"I'm sure we have an idea or two on how to start," he said, stepping closer and taking her face into his hands.

This time, Azula was aware of the weight of Yue's mirror in her pocket. She didn't draw back from Sokka's kiss regardless, hand upon his chest as they pecked each other multiple times, relishing in a moment of privacy that they weren't likely to find anew once their journey to the Capital began.

And they might not have much of that even after they left, either.

"But the thing is, I… may have extended an offer to my mom to come with us," Azula whispered against his lips. Sokka raised an eyebrow, puzzled, and Azula kissed him softly once more, as though to coerce him into accepting that. "I know it'd mean more restraint for us, and we wouldn't be able to be crazy as much as we were yesterday, but…"

"Heh. That side of it is a shame, no lie, but… I'm fine with it," Sokka smiled warmly, brushing her hair with his fingers. Azula sighed in relief.

"If you're sure… go get your things. We're damn lucky that my brother isn't smart enough to realize half the clothes scattered in the room you were naked in were mine…"

"I think he was too appalled to stop and confirm who they belonged to," Sokka smiled awkwardly. "I'm not sure he'll ever be ready to know that we, uh… canoodled a little too much."

"That's the word you're going to use?" Azula asked, amused. Sokka chuckled and shrugged. "You're a goofball. Go, pick up your things, I'll get mine… and I'll pick up the mochi on my way out too. Let's get ready to face Zuko and his nonsense, shall we?"

Sokka nodded enthusiastically: they shared another thorough kiss, one in which Sokka dared sneak a few bold caresses, and Azula wound up entering her room in a perfectly blissful mood afterwards, as though she weren't about to march into a likely tricky situation in a matter of moments…

Zuko was upset, but he couldn't be too upset, could he? She hadn't done anything wrong right now. Ursa's support had been a shocker, but it might just be the best possible defense from her brother's wrath. Resolving her conflicts with Ursa certainly was one thing… figuring anything out with Zuko would be much more difficult, if just because of his disposition. Merely a few weeks ago, Azula would have told herself that she'd rather deal with her brother's hostility than her mother's emotional manipulation, her sad doe eyes, and her meaningless apologies… but Ursa's reaction to her rant, as well as the conversation they had shared just that morning, had caught her by surprise. She never imagined she might be able to start over with Ursa, and there truly would be no erasing their past… but it was about time to ensure that whatever troubled history they shared would not preclude the possibility of a better future.

The liveliness of Ember Island appeared slightly stunted, as most its population watched in confusion when their Fire Lord led a march towards the largest, grandest ship docked in their harbor: his Royal Barge would rush through the internal waters of the Fire Nation fast enough to bring them to the Capital in a couple of hours, at most. Thus, neither Sokka nor Azula bothered choosing cabins or even asking where they would stay for now: after enjoying their breakfast aboard the ship, sharing the mochi Ursa had found for Azula, they chose to wait on the deck instead of finding any private cabins, sitting together by the ship's railing… meanwhile, Ursa had dragged Zuko inside the ship's tower in order to have a thorough conversation about many things that Zuko appeared to need to hear.

"Well, despite it all, looks like we're going to end up in the Fire Nation Capital," Sokka reasoned, with a slight grimace. "Did he ever explain how he found us?"

"Not really," Azula said, relaxing against the ship's railing. "I suppose we were seen at some point. I'll try to ask later, or maybe you can… but Mom appears to be quite busy scolding him right now. Never thought I'd see the day…"

"A nice surprise, huh?" Sokka smirked. "Guess your mother wasn't as far gone as we thought she was…"

"We? You thought so too?" Azula asked. Sokka shrugged.

"No offense intended to her, but… she sounded like the exact opposite of my mother," Sokka said. Azula hummed, eyeing him with interest. "My mom sacrificed herself, lying to some piece of shit from the Southern Raiders to tell him that she was the last waterbender, rather than Katara. He… he killed her because of that."

Azula's stomach clenched. A swirling fear gripped her chest, with misplaced guilt that might not be as far out of place as she wished it were… for the ideology, the regime, responsible for the death of Sokka's mother was the one she had fought for, across all those years. She knew there were plenty of deaths and sacrifices throughout the war… but she hadn't known Sokka had faced one quite as close as that of his own mother.

"Katara's still working through it to this day. I didn't realize that was why it had happened until she told me, and she didn't even explain until a few years after she confronted the killer directly," Sokka explained. "Anyway… I could be wrong, but it sounds to me like, if my mother had been married to a bastard like your father, she would have never forsaken her kids, just as she didn't forsake Katara. Meanwhile, your mother…"

"She left us and forgot about us, yes," Azula said. Sokka shrugged.

"Even back when we found her, in Hira'a, I didn't really know how to feel about that," he said. "I kind of convinced myself to stay in my lane because it wasn't my business, you know? Who cared how I felt about something like this? But… as time goes by, I've realized I can't really help myself. It's just not fair, Azula. It never has been fair on you."

"No, I suppose not," Azula whispered, glancing at Sokka with uncertainty. "But a mother who would forsake her kids is… is probably less painful to lose than one who loved them with everything she had."

Sokka grimaced, glancing at her with uncertainty: Azula reached out to take his hand, careless about the sailors and soldiers who might see her.

"I'm sorry. Doesn't count for a damn thing, I had no real say upon what happened to your mother, but…" Azula said, gritting her teeth. "It was a lot easier to support the Fire Nation's war by closing our eyes to the rest of the world. That's what everyone seemed to learn how to do. Your mother should have never died that way."

"No, she definitely shouldn't have," Sokka said, with a fragile smile. "But… well, nothing can be done to bring her back, I guess. Though… huh. Wait a second! Ask Yue about the Spirit World! Ask her if the spirits of our people actually go there…!"

Azula blinked blankly, pulling out the mirror. Yue seemed as perplexed by the question as she was, and she offered her a sad smile along with a shake of her head.

"Looks like she doesn't know much about that," Azula said.

"Most souls don't really make it into the Spirit World that way, I think. They tend to be, well… sent back to the real world? Until the soul achieves enlightenment, I guess…"

"Says only the souls that achieve enlightenment would enter the Spirit World," Azula concluded. Sokka sighed and shrugged.

"Worth a shot," he said. "Anyway, your nation's soldiers are nasty, yeah, but… it was a long time ago. We were as good as babies back then. Don't feel responsible for it."

"So, it doesn't really matter that I wouldn't have cared about this one bit if I'd learned about it a year ago?" Azula probed him. Sokka snorted.

"Matters to you now. That's enough for me," he said, smiling at her. Azula shook her head.

"You're too nice for your own good. Still… I'm sorry you that didn't have a mother while growing up either," Azula said.

"If this subject had come up any sooner across our journey, I would've told you not to worry if yours never tried to do better for you," Sokka pointed out. Azula raised an eyebrow. "I mean… if she hadn't done anything but piss you off, the way it sounded like when you confronted her when she first turned up? Well, I would've understood if you hadn't wanted to give her another chance. Though… I suppose you do now, huh?"

"I don't know what's gotten into all of you," Azula said, startling Sokka. "Starting with you and Yue, having it in you to see more to me than anyone else did… and suddenly my mother is taking stands against Zuko for my sake?"

"Don't forget that Toph let you out of prison and handled Kuei and Zuko for us, though I have no idea how that turned out. One more thing to ask Zuko about," Sokka reasoned, tapping his chin with a finger. Azula sighed.

"None of you make any sense. How is it possible that the person who sees things and hears voices has a clearer understanding of reality compared to all of you?" Azula asked. Sokka laughed and shrugged.

"Guess you're special that way," he said. Azula's heart somersaulted in her chest at the sight of his affectionate smile. "Anyway… it's good that your mom wants to help you. Definitely improves my opinion of her so far. Honestly, it was about time someone in your family came through for you. Though I'm still a little surprised that we'll go as far as traveling with her…"

"I know that means we'll have a lot more pressure, and less privacy, and, well… it's going to be awkward. But to be fair, she already walked in on us once so, not much left to the imagination there anymore…" Azula sighed, cheeks flushing at the memory. "How the hell did I manage to talk to her or look her in the eye after that nonsense, exactly?"

"I can't say I know, but I'm glad you did," Sokka said, squeezing her hand gently.

"Of course you are," Azula sighed, glancing at him uneasily. "You sure you're fine with this? With… traveling with her?"

"Might be a bit awkward, sure… but she'd be more likely to keep us in check than Yue was," Sokka smiled awkwardly.

"The sneaky little troublemaker said she caught a few glimpses of us in the bathroom, through the mirror there…" Azula said, with a grimace. Sokka's cheeks flushed slightly. "She said she looked away after a while, but I'm starting to worry that she might not have. Naughty brat. Teenagers do have an inappropriate interest in these matters…"

"Well, I'd like to think she… has better sense than that. Restraint? I don't know," Sokka laughed. Azula scoffed as she pulled the mirror out, startling Sokka. "What, are you going to ask her if she'll behave herself right now?"

"Might as well," Azula said, glaring into the reflection. Yue smiled at her, cheeks slightly flushed, clearly having overheard their conversation. "You wouldn't look intentionally, or hear intentionally, whenever he and I are up to no good together, would you?"

"… Nooooo?"

"That's the most convincing negative answer I've heard in my life! Your lies are getting a lot worse now, mind you," Azula smirked.

"I wasn't lying as much as you think I was before! Maybe I am now, though… but Azula, I'm curious!"

"Well, that's unsettling. Tone down that curiosity," Azula huffed, shaking her head and staring at Sokka. "You're not wrong, my mother's definitely going to be a good asset. Otherwise, this one would get corrupted by how filthy we are, too."

"The Filthy Royals," Sokka said, proudly. Azula snorted and laughed. "It's not that bad, is it?"

"Sounds terrible," Azula as good as cackled. Sokka scoffed, shaking his head.

"Always so judgmental. We still don't have a team name and that's not very nice, mind you. Now that your mother's joining in too, it's going to be even harder to find a unifying factor."

"How about 'Sokka and the women he can't keep up with'? Sounds like a good name to me…"

"Very accurate, but too extensive. You'll have to be more concise," Sokka smirked. Azula laughed again, glancing at him sideways.

"Say…" she breathed in, holding his gaze briefly before tearing her eyes away. It wasn't easy opening up to people, but it was easier when it was Sokka. "I… thanks for not running out on me over my outburst from last night. I mean, you're probably the one person who has every chance to leave me and yet you've chosen to stay without fail. I might not deserve it, but I… I'm glad you chose to do that. I'm glad you didn't run away."

"I'm afraid I'm not the type to run from beautiful women. Instead, I chase them all over the world and fall head over heels for them without even trying," Sokka said. Azula snorted, staring at him skeptically. "I know we have a lot to figure out still, there might be more bumps along the way… but we'll do it, in time. Don't fret about it right now, okay?"

"Well… we should figure out what to do about Zuko, though," Azula pointed out, raising her eyebrows. Sokka blinked blankly. "By which I mean… that absurd nonsense we fed him about why you were sleeping naked apparently worked. He has no idea you and I, well…"

"Yeah, you know, he's very gullible sometimes," Sokka smiled awkwardly. Azula laughed and nodded. "But I guess what you mean is… do we keep it quiet still? Or do we talk things over, so we decide whether to come clean about it or not?"

"Thing is… do any of them even know that you and Suki are done?" Azula asked. Sokka shrugged.

"Toph knows. Don't know if she told Zuko, though," he said. "Though, frankly… is that a big cause for concern?"

"I'd rather they don't give you shit for cheating on her with me. You have to know what this looks like," Azula said, staring at him skeptically. "A hopeless man clinging to his past love has too many clashes and conflicts with his would-be wife, and as a consequence runs off to start an affair with the dangerous, deadly but apparently beautiful woman who's so very bad, absolutely no-good for him…"

"So, what, I'm having a midlife crisis at twenty-seven?" Sokka snorted. Azula laughed, dropping her head against the railing. "Well, guess when your life is as weird as mine has been, it's kind of justified for it to start earlier. Didn't you say that's what's going on with Yue too, as a spirit? Then… the Midlife Crisis Royals! Ha! That actually bonds all of us together, why not?"

"That's awful… most of all because you're not wrong," Azula snorted, bending over forward as she laughed harder. Sokka smirked proudly, arms folded across his chest.

"Gotcha with that one! We have a team name now, like it or not!"

"No, we don't! There's no way we're keeping that one, Sokka, anything but that!"

"C'mon, bet Yue agrees with me," Sokka said, taking the mirror from her and pointing it at Azula. "Hey, Yue, tell her! My idea is the best idea!"

"… I actually don't like it at all. Don't let him use that one, Azula."

Her negative broke Azula with further laughter – so used as she was to hearing Yue agreeing with Sokka on most accounts, she certainly didn't anticipate the opposite happening now.

"Well, well? Bet she thinks it's great! I'm sure she does!" Sokka snickered, waving the mirror proudly in front of Azula.

Standing by a window, in the ship tower's second level, Zuko scowled at the sight of his sister laughing quite so vividly at whatever Sokka was saying. Even in their younger years, he couldn't remember anyone, not even Aang, laughing that way at Sokka's nonsense. An uneasy feeling spread in his gut, one he wasn't sure how to interpret, or what to make of… for it had been quite a long time since he had experienced it over Azula.

Was she a better fit, a more fun companion, than he ever had been? If given a chance, would she mesh perfectly with his friends, better than he ever had? Would he lose everything he had gained to her, if she was granted the chance to heal that their mother was asking him to offer her?

"You didn't send her to the asylum when you did because you thought she was a lost cause, or did you?" Ursa huffed. Zuko gritted his teeth, tearing his gaze away from the pair by the deck. "Otherwise, you would have chosen prison. Even if you didn't understand the full extent of what they did to her in the institute, you had to have believed it was a better choice for her health than a fate as bleak as your father's."

"Had better conversations with my father in prison than I did with her, though," Zuko said.

"Maybe that's more of a reflection of what that asylum could do to a person, rather than anything that determines whether your father or your sister are better people," Ursa said. "Truly, Zuko… as difficult as this may be for you to wrap your head around, it shouldn't be. I'm not going to change my mind about her. She's not manipulating me."

"Right, because this initiative to go travel the world with those two isn't their doing?" Zuko asked. "Say what you will, Mom, but she could have guilted you into wanting something you actually don't…"

"And what if I do want it?" Ursa asked. Zuko gritted his teeth. "What if I need time away from home?"

"But…" Zuko said. Ursa raised an eyebrow.

"But what?" she said. "You forgave me when I abandoned you and your sister all those years ago. This time, I'd be choosing to travel with her and hopefully help her find peace…"

"It's not the same," Zuko said: his heart churned upon realizing the real reason why it wasn't, but he bottled it in for now. "She's dangerous, Mom. Right now, she's saying she sees Yue, but what if she goes off the rails in some worse way later too? You can't know what you're going to get with her."

"You think she's going to kill me and Sokka eventually?" Ursa asked. Zuko winced. "I'm not sure I believe that would happen. Fact is, I… I would even argue that it wouldn't. She has been with Sokka for a long time, and if anything, it seems they're getting along marvelously right now."

"That doesn't mean much. Sokka, Aang and Toph didn't give me a hard time when I joined their group. Only Katara did," Zuko said.

"So, you'd only learn to trust her if Katara did?" Ursa asked. Zuko winced.

"No, I'm just saying…"

"You wouldn't trust her at all, not even if your friends do."

Zuko shivered, lowering his gaze. Ursa folded her arms over her chest.

"Zuko, dear… I love you. You know I do. I've done terrible things, I've made awful mistakes… and I haven't made up for many, if any of them, so far. You forgave me regardless because you loved me. Because you prized me. Because your need for my wellbeing, my safety, my happiness, was paramount to finding justice. Am I wrong?"

"Well… no? But you're you, and she's her!" Zuko scoffed.

"And what if you could heal your bond?" Ursa asked. "What if you could sit with those two and laugh alongside them, too?"

Zuko froze. Ursa shook her head slowly.

"You've been poisoned terribly by your father, Zuko. In ways you never truly understood," Ursa said. Zuko winced.

"That's not… I'm not my father. I'm not!"

"I never said you were. But treating your sister as a wanted criminal, to be hunted all across the world? Isn't that the same thing your father did to his brother? To you?"

Zuko yelped. Ursa sighed, taking his hands in hers.

"No, Azula didn't do things so terrible that she cannot be forgiven for them. By all means, Iroh's death toll will always be far greater than either yours or Azula's could have been," Ursa said. "And yet you can accept him, while turning your back on her. I don't blame you, dear, for your uncertainties and your fear, for not wanting your sister to be around you constantly… but there comes a point in life where we need to stop running away from the harder truths we don't want to face. Azula brought me to realize that. She told me many things I didn't want to hear, but that I had to. And maybe that's what you need to prepare yourself for: listen. Don't just talk back, don't just defend yourself… listen. You have good intentions, dear… but you cannot do anything with them if you refuse to open your heart to other people's needs. More so when you're actually trying to help them."

"Well… I wasn't really trying to help Azula," Zuko confessed, frowning. "And I'm not even sure I want to. I keep thinking she'll just spit it all right back at me if I try."

"Is that any reason not to try at all?" Ursa asked. Zuko flinched. "Your uncle didn't give up on you even when you didn't make matters easy for him, he's told me so, as did you. It wasn't until you opened your heart to him, until his needs mattered as much as your own, that you learned to appreciate him properly. Azula? I think she's at that stage with Sokka, and maybe with Yue, too. Your sister isn't some nightmare to fend off, or merely a terrorist to fight against: she's your family. And you're one of the most powerful people in the world right now, dear. This nation is full of people who believed in the same things she did, and if they'd had the power she held, they wouldn't have acted any differently than she did. You're their Fire Lord: you're her Fire Lord. Wouldn't it be suitable for you to do right by your every subject, no matter how difficult it might be?"

"It's different when you're talking about Azula," Zuko scowled. "She's… not my subject. I haven't thought of her as that ever before."

"Then maybe it's time for you to start," Ursa said. Zuko winced, uncertain. "You're her older brother. And you cannot hope to heal this world, this nation, if you'll give up on members of your own family just because it's hard. In her case, half the work, more of it, even, was already done by others. If she could reach an understanding with me, she surely can with you too. All you have to do is… try."

Zuko gritted his teeth, a fist tightened: that sounded like a taller order than he was ready to commit to… even though, objectively, it shouldn't have been. Trying something didn't necessarily translate to sticking with a set course for good. If Azula went off the rails again, as she often did, Zuko very well could prove to everyone how wrong they had been about his sister.

But if she didn't… then maybe he could be a better brother, starting here and now. It was difficult to fathom, it made him deeply uncomfortable… but if Sokka and Ursa were right to stand by Azula, if she truly was seeing Yue and changing in more ways than he knew? Perhaps… they'd have a chance to be a real family one day. Perhaps.

"I'll talk to her once we get to the Palace," Zuko said. Ursa raised her eyebrows. "I… will try to mend fences. But she does have things to answer for… and I hope she's ready to do it."

"I'm sure she will be," Ursa said, with a genuine smile. "Thank you, Zuko. Your sister needs this, so much more than she realizes. Her heart is finally on the mend, thanks to Sokka and Yue… we could be part of that too. Wouldn't you like to have a positive impact on her life, lead her on a better path…?"

"I… guess I might not mind that. But we'll see," Zuko said. Ursa sighed, smiling still as she approached Zuko.

"Thank you for trying, dear. Thank you."

He hugged her back, uneasy, unsteady. A part of him wondered if Ursa would regret her earlier harshness… but he didn't dare ask. If she didn't, she might just be upset at him for so much as suggesting that she should…

Would she stand up to Azula similarly, if their roles were reversed? The realization that she would, that she might just have gone further for his sake, chilled Zuko's heart as he held his mother closely. He was a fool, wasn't he? Envying his sister for having their mother's attention, if just briefly… she was Azula's mother too. Just as she was Kiyi's. As special as his bond with Ursa might be… he would be an utter bastard if he tried to keep Ursa to himself when she had other children to watch over, too.

He sighed as he glanced through the window anew: their destination approached. His conversation with Azula wouldn't wait for much longer.

The Princess was visibly unsettled upon being in the Fire Nation Capital as herself this time. Her attire, far too casual, suited Ember Island so much better than the grand seat of power of her people. She'd change into something else as soon as she had the chance, maybe ask Sokka to fix her hair too…

But Zuko wouldn't give her that chance: as soon as they crossed the threshold into the Palace, the Fire Lord turned towards her with a stern frown.

"We'll talk privately," he said. Sokka huffed. "And I don't know why that bothers you so much, Sokka, but this doesn't concern you."

"It… doesn't," Sokka said, begrudgingly – he couldn't claim to be concerned over Azula's safety to that extent, not unless they were ready to set off Zuko's alarms regarding their relationship.

Still, he sighed as Azula shrugged – clearly, she wasn't all that pleased for this outcome, but she wasn't about to run away from her brother either.

"See you when I get out, I guess," she said, simply. Sokka sighed.

"Hey… wait."

Azula had merely taken one step forward when Sokka took her hand, placing the mirror carefully in her palm.

"I'd taken it earlier, before we arrived, remember?" Sokka smiled a little. "You won't be alone if Yue's with you."

"Heh. Sabotaging Zuzu's attempt to speak privately with me, I see," Azula said, though she couldn't hide her genuine, fond smile. "Thank you."

Sokka grinned brightly: Zuko scowled upon realizing he hadn't seen Sokka in such a good mood in… years, at least. Perhaps since around the years of the end of the war…

How, exactly, had Azula brought him to be that happy? Was it Azula at all, or was it Yue? It was much easier to believe it'd be the latter… but the fond smiles between them left an awkward feeling nestling in his gut.

He tried to ignore that sensation as he led his sister into a private sitting room. There'd be no pleasantries, no shared tea… they'd just talk. Hopefully, Sokka and Ursa would know better than to try to eavesdrop as they spoke.

"Well… looks like things are looking up for you," Zuko said, turning towards her with a prominent scowl on his face. Azula raised an eyebrow as she stood across him, arms folded over her chest. "Mom's… defending you without hesitation. I'd never seen her do that."

"It's hard to believe for me too, so you're not alone if you're confused," Azula said.

"I feel like I don't understand any of it," Zuko said, shaking his head and staring at her in confusion. "You're having new hallucinations, visions, whatever they are… and yet you sound more like yourself than you have in ages. You have people standing up for you and defending you to this extent, it's… weird."

"It's quite alright, I don't know how it happened even though I was there the whole time," Azula admitted, with a shrug. "Though… you're not the only one confused about certain things regarding each other. How, exactly, did you find us in Ember Island?"

"Oh. It took us a while to pick up on your trail," Zuko said, bitterly. "My guards eventually sought the Mechanist, he told them he'd given Sokka a hot-air balloon. After that, it was just a matter of waiting for sightings of unregistered, non-military hot-air balloons anywhere. Someone caught sight of you by the western Earth Kingdom, so we traveled there… once the next military sightings report claimed the balloon was sighted landing in Ember Island, I didn't hesitate to go there as soon as possible."

"So, you had all your soldiers looking for me, huh?" Azula said, raising her eyebrows. "I almost feel important and everything now…"

"Yeah, well… sure," Zuko huffed, shaking his head. "I'm sorry that I misunderstood that you'd kidnapped Sokka, but I hope you realize you… you don't make it exactly easy to think any better of you."

"Well, I didn't for all these years, that's certainly true. Do you expect me to throw a tantrum over how you don't trust me, or like me, or treat me with respect?" Azula asked, with a slight smirk. "Though I suppose that last one might be a fair one to protest against, come to think of it…"

"I don't want you to throw anything, I just… I want to understand what exactly is going on," Zuko scowled. "You abandoned your group, you traveled to the north, you're ride-or-die with Sokka suddenly… you have to realize it makes no sense. And after showing up in Ba Sing Se and causing unnecessary trouble…"

"Did you only hear about Ba Sing Se?" Azula asked, raising an eyebrow. "That wasn't our first stop, actually. Didn't Suki reach out to you?"

"Was she supposed to?" Zuko asked, frowning.

"That's… odd," Azula blinked blankly. "Here I thought she was that mad at Sokka once they broke up, threatening that she'd only give us one day to leave before alerting everyone that we were there. Maybe she actually had a soft spot for him still. The truth is we went to Kyoshi Island first, they had the break-up of the century, then we left again. That's where I found out that you were hunting for me, dead or alive…"

"I… I'll rescind that order," Zuko said, self-aware and uncomfortable. "I thought… you'd crossed a line. Turned out Sokka joined you willingly, though…"

"There really was no sign that he hadn't done that," Azula pointed out, raising an eyebrow. Zuko winced. "Whichever one of you lot decided I could only have kidnapped him, well… you'd have to give me a smidge of credit after this and admit that at least one weirdo in the world would travel with me willingly rather than dragged into it kicking and screaming."

"We jumped to conclusions and we shouldn't have. But… you do have to admit it looked weird. And like I said, you really…"

"I don't make it easy? No, I don't. Did I say otherwise?" Azula said, with a slight smirk. "I don't pity you at all, Zuzu, you have it pretty damn hard, being my brother. I don't know what you brought me here for, if what you want is an apology you might as well wait forever…"

"You're not sorry for any of what you've done over the last decade?" Zuko asked. Azula winced.

"I… didn't exactly say that," Azula said. "Just said I wouldn't apologize for it."

"So, you're not."

"I'm sorry enough for a lot of things," Azula said, glaring at him. "But… I was vindictive. I was angry, bitter and frustrated and I wanted to hurt you so you'd suffer as much as I was suffering. That's the truth. If you don't like it, that's not my business. I wanted vindication, revenge, what-have-you… and nothing I did actually got me any closer to attaining any of it. So, I failed at my quest to piss you off, and I joined Sokka in a weird journey to please a spirit that only I can see. It's… strange how different it is, living life that way. It wasn't all that comfortable at the start, but it is now. I can't fathom going back to what I was doing before."

"Because Sokka is… more fun?" Zuko asked. Azula shrugged.

"Would it be a problem for you, if that were the sole reason for it?" she asked. Zuko scowled. "Still would mean you're free from being tormented by me…"

"Until you get bored of him," Zuko finished. Azula laughed.

"I'm afraid that's not very likely. He's… a surprisingly resourceful man," Azula said. "Always has something to say that catches me off guard. Like Yue put it once… we're two master strategists in a battlefield of words, somehow. He's far more interesting than you or any of his other friends likely realize…"

"Or maybe you're both just weird in similar ways. Which I'd never have expected, but frankly, his sense of humor is about as strange as yours," Zuko pointed out. Azula laughed.

"I've noticed. I hate laughing at his jokes, but he makes it too easy sometimes," Azula admitted.

"Then… all this stuff about Yue?" Zuko said, eyeing her warily. "Sokka and her were a thing once. You said your entire purpose is to get her to see the world and experience the seasons and so on? I'm not going to say it's a bad purpose, I mean, it's by far the most harmless thing I've ever heard you want to do. But it sounds like a temporary diversion or so. Once she's satisfied, what will you do?"

"I suppose… that's something I'll figure out once we get there," Azula said, with a shrug. "Though if it makes you feel any better, I…"

The words got stuck in her throat at first, and Azula actually smiled a little as something deep inside her seemed to snap. Something she didn't really know nestled inside her broke off, leaving her untethered… forsaken, somehow. Her hand trembled, and she glanced at Yue in the mirror briefly as she processed what a treacherous thought had crossed her mind… a thought she couldn't help but feel keenly, acutely, in her heart. She breathed deeply, and Zuko frowned at the strange sincerity in her voice.

"I actually never imagined I'd come back to the Fire Nation peacefully… and I certainly have no plans of staying here forever."

Zuko's eyes widened. Azula gritted her teeth: those might just have been the most painful words she had ever spoken. She offered Zuko a dry grin then, covering up her vulnerability as best she could.

"So… that," she said. "I think I'd just wait and see what Sokka has in mind. He's weird, sure, but he's the most reliable ally I've ever traveled with. Seems like he wants to stick with me for the foreseeable future too, so…"

"You think he'd stay even after Yue is gone?" Zuko asked. Azula's heart clenched.

"I… hope so," Azula said. "He's said he would, at least."

"Really?" Zuko blinked blankly. "W-wait. Why?"

"Why?" Azula repeated, slightly affronted.

"I'm… not sure I follow," Zuko said, blinking blankly. "You two are, uh… best friends now?"

"Huh. I'm not sure that we are. Which one of them might be my best friend, come to think of it?" Azula said, glancing at Yue in the mirror. She giggled and waved in her direction, and Azula smiled at her.

"Sokka. Say it's Sokka," Zuko said, with a wild grin. Azula crooked an eyebrow.

"What's it to you, exactly…?"

"Toph said weird shit and I would like to confirm that she's wrong about it, is all," Zuko said, bitterly. Azula raised her eyebrows. "She said you'd… seduced Sokka and that's why he was completely wrapped around your finger, basically."

Azula snorted, then cackled by throwing her head back – a slight relief to Zuko, who smiled awkwardly at her reaction.

"Seduced Sokka? She sure gives me too much credit if she thinks I'd have the first clue of how to do such a thing," Azula laughed, shaking her head. "If Sokka fell in love with me, it'd be his fault entirely. I sure as hell did nothing to make it happen, I can guarantee that much."

"Huh. You know, that's not very tranquilizing either," Zuko grimaced. "Sokka's… weird. Suki was too normal for him, I guess…"

"Oh? So you're saying he needed an abnormal kind of partner instead?" Azula asked, raising her eyebrows. Zuko winced, raising a hand as though to stop her.

"I didn't mean… I just mean I'm not really sure how Sokka was having a good time by dating her! If anything, I'd think he wasn't. Which is possibly why they broke up."

"Sounds like it," Azula said, stubbornly. "Believe me, if he dated me, I'd give him far more interesting and entertaining reasons to break up with me."

"I'm not sure he'd choose to date you just so you can break up with him by… ugh! Could you not entangle my head with nonsense?" Zuko groaned. Azula smirked. "Look… I get that I can't change you or make you become the perfect sister for me…"

"Do you?" Azula asked, eyeing him skeptically. Zuko frowned. "Worth noting I can't do that to you, either. You're far too set in your ways for you to be my dream brother too."

"You… you'd change me?" Zuko asked, frowning. Azula smirked.

"I just said I wouldn't. But I'm not the one who replaced the two unpalatable members of my family with new, pleasant ones instead," she said. Zuko's eyes widened.

"I… Kiyi isn't a replacement for you! And I'm not even close to Noren…"

"Your little sister who loves and gushes over you isn't a replacement for the one who made your life a nightmare, apparently?" Azula smiled sadly. "As for Noren and father… if you're not close to him, then he's gotten the fundamentals of the job right, wouldn't you say?"

Zuko gritted his teeth: Azula's words hurt… but he couldn't help but notice that Azula, too, was hurt. He didn't usually notice as much… but this time, he raised his gaze to find that she appeared mournful of the fate they were facing as siblings.

"Point is… you haven't been optimal yourself. I've tried, yes, to mess with you and cause you grief… but I never really imagined you'd ever conform to being the brother I'd want you to be. Doesn't seem logical for you to start trying now."

"Why not?" Zuko asked. Azula laughed.

"I'm not challenging you, Dum-Dum. You're so ridiculous when you get like this," she said. "I'm fine, Zuko. I have no… no right to ask anything of you. That's not what this ever was, I… I admit it's pathetic to say it, but I just wanted to matter and I knew I never would if I went about it in any other way. Or, at least, I've never learned how. Point is… I fucked up, purposefully and intentionally. I'm not here to apologize because I don't think you have any real reason to forgive me, no matter if I'll never do it again. If that's what you were waiting for…"

"I… I don't know what I was expecting," Zuko said, frowning. "But probably more along the lines of you admitting that you're only traveling with Sokka out of convenience, and that you don't actually want him around much but he's useful so far…?"

"You really think I can only manipulate my way through life, don't you?" Azula said. "Granted, I know why you think so, but that's not the case. Sokka joined me, Yue roped me into this journey in the first place… the few times I've tried to do anything mischievous in this trip, it hasn't gone all that well. And somehow… they keep me busy enough that I can't really focus on doing anything to trouble you. Which, then, translates to me losing my taste for messing with you."

Zuko sighed, lowering his gaze.

"Would you get that taste back if I'm not paying attention?" he asked. Azula rolled her eyes. "I'm serious. You say that you weren't really trying to do anything that terrible with your actions… but the thing is, you did cause trouble and when it wasn't you, it was them. Your allies."

"Right, but…" Azula said, frowning. "While we certainly destabilized your rule, caused chaos whenever we cared to, we never did anything quite as bad as to truly hamper your efforts to fix the Fire Nation, did we? If anything, I've been a perfect villain for you to show the whole populace just why things need to change, or am I wrong? It was either you or me on that throne, and the more irresponsible behavior I display, the happier they'll be that it's you. Isn't it at least slightly beneficial to you?"

"You're acting like none of what you did had lasting consequences that could harm the nation…" Zuko said, gritting his teeth. "And you know what? Maybe you didn't. Even if you might have tried, maybe you actually showed some restraint I never truly registered as such before, and you never did something that devastating. But them? You have no idea what they did while you were gone, do you?"

Azula frowned. Zuko gritted his teeth, fists tight by his hips.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice unsteady: she had a feeling she knew what Zuko would say, but even so…

"They burned down the asylum."

Silence.

Azula's heart thumped with triumph… and fear.

"Did… did they get them out?" Azula asked. "The other patients, even the staff…"

Zuko's frown spoke for itself. Azula's sinking dread hit square in her gut, and she snarled as she tore her eyes away from him.

"I thought it was your final move," Zuko said. "Your full-blown act of war. By the time we got there, it was too late. Whole place… burned. Fifty-seven casualties. Some, family visitors. Most of them, patients. The rest, staff. Everyone dead… and not by any mistake. No, everyone in the building died because the people responsible for that crime ensured to shut the doors, the windows, every single exit…!"

"You can't be…" Azula snarled: even if she wanted to deny it, she knew she couldn't do it. Zirin… she would have done it. Azula knew as much.

"Everyone in the premises died… and we tracked down the culprits shortly afterwards. That's when I caught Zirin, and when she told me where you were," Zuko said. "They're in the Prison Tower right now. Awaiting their sentences."

"What are you going to…?" Azula asked, glancing at Zuko with uncertainty.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I'm struggling to figure out how to show them any mercy."

"Zuko, you… you don't understand what the asylum was like," Azula said, staring at him warily. Zuko scowled. "You never were there as a patient…"

"That doesn't justify what they did!"

"I agree!" Azula exclaimed, startling Zuko. "But… they unleashed the pent-up rage and wrath that place stirred inside them. That place, their families, everyone who played a role in putting them there… do you understand what it feels like, being forsaken in a place that constantly demeans you, dehumanizes you, subjects you to every kind of humiliation whenever you try to fight back, and affords you no dignity anyway, even when you don't fight at all? To be treated like a beast more than a person, to be spoken to as though you were some inferior kind of being…!"

"I don't think I get it, no, but it's not like I haven't been through dehumanizing, cruel things myself," Zuko said.

"The difference is the man who subjected you to the worst of yours is rotting in jail. The one who did it to me is standing right in front of me."

Zuko froze. Azula's accusatory glare caught him in an uncomfortable spot, and she shook her head.

"I… I understand why you did it. I'm not stupid. I know you had no time for me, I know you had no idea how to help me, you had a nation to run… but you don't know what it's like to be truly forsaken. Say what you will… you had Iroh. If you didn't have him, you had Mai. You had our mother. I… I had our father? Do you think he would have ever visited me, if he had been free to do so? He would have denounced me as unworthy of being his heir, if anything… imperfect, broken, damaged as I am. And even if I'm wrong… he was in prison. How could he check on me? But it wasn't just him… it was you. Iroh. Mai, Ty Lee… not a single one of you ever thought that reaching out to me while I was locked in that blasted place was a good idea. And you know what that looks like? It looks like you just want me out of the way. Like I was someone else's problem now, not yours. Like you just needed me to stop being a hazard to your goals and maybe then you'll try to be my brother… and that's a big 'maybe' anyhow. And you're none other than the Fire Lord, with all the resources and power at your disposal… and you couldn't even hire personal physicians to look after me in your home. You threw me out to a distant institution… so I wouldn't be a bother. Even if that wasn't your intention, that's what it looked like.

"And that's what they went through, too, with their own families. Every woman who didn't conform, every girl who dared have ideas different to what their relatives wanted them to follow, anyone who didn't behave exactly as they were expected to. Their own families and loved ones did it to them just as you did it to me. They were angry. They hated that place, more than I did even, and that's saying something. It was a glorified prison, where you could be subjected to the worst of alleged treatments only to be told that you hadn't been through enough of it yet and you needed some more still. I probably didn't even get it as bad as the others… I was only there for a year. Point is… it's not that I don't understand your position. I do. But I don't think the answer to what they did is… killing them. All you'd do is add to the catastrophe's death toll."

"They're more than just casualties of an accident: they instigated it. They're dangerous, Azula," Zuko said. Azula shrugged.

"I'm dangerous too," she said. "And in case you forgot? So are you."

Zuko winced. Azula wasn't accusatory, even if she could have been.

"You're not as healthy as you'd like to think you are," Azula said. "You're not okay, Zuzu. Maybe you never have been, to begin with. But as messed up as your choices were… you got out of being locked up in a place like that and then managed to join the winning team before the war ended. You could have very well ended up in a place like the asylum, by Father's orders, if I had brought you back as he wanted me to, at first. As a prisoner."

Zuko shuddered: he didn't want to think of that possibility. But Azula appeared determined to make him do exactly that.

"Would you have shown restraint?" Azula asked, frowning. "If you had been told you were not human, incapable of love, a rare case of madness, an intriguing subject to study… if you had heard them laugh off your misfortunes, talk about how loaded they'd be because you were of the Royal Family and they'd finally fill the institution's coffers that way, thinking you were too badly out of it with the medicine to overhear what they were saying? If they'd forced you to swallow food, herbs, unknown remedies that would make you feel numb and close to death? If they had… had messed up their dosage to the point where they killed someone in the stretcher near yours?"

Zuko flinched: the picture Azula painted for him clearly was taking a toll on him. Azula shook her head.

"I'm not saying Zirin and the others deserve to be forgiven. As much as every bastard working in that place was unforgivable, I had no intentions of killing them if we ever decided on taking revenge. Zirin made me design a revenge strategy, you see… I did it, and she kept asking for more violence. For a stronger revenge than just sabotaging the place or burning it once everyone was out safely. I refused to do it, I constantly told her we wouldn't make any moves on the asylum until we could get all the remaining patients out safely…"

"And she never listened," Zuko finished. Azula gritted her teeth.

"I was the leader. She listened solely because of that. It's no surprise that the first thing she did, once I wasn't there to keep an eye on her, was destroying that place recklessly."

"You would have saved the other patients?" Zuko asked. "Granted, the most dangerous ones would have been the ones you brought with you, but…"

"That's not necessarily true," Azula said. Zuko frowned. "You don't understand, do you? We were the family pests that nobody wanted to deal with. I had hallucinations? No doubt. But half of them had no conditions of any kind. I don't know how many people were admitted in the asylum without being mentally ill or disturbed in any way to begin with. It felt like… like they force-fed them alleged medicine that caused unwanted, unacceptable behaviors in people, just to justify keeping them there. That's what that place was like. That's why I'm not sorry to learn it was destroyed… and that's why I can't help but be furious that Zirin would decide not to save anyone who still could be helped."

"Would you have saved them?" Zuko asked. Azula shrugged.

"I tried when I broke out my allies in the first place," she said. Zuko's eyes widened. "I offered them the chance to leave. Over half the patients were too scared to try. They wanted to stay because they hoped… maybe by putting up with all of it, they'd get to go home one day. I won't pretend any of them trusted me, no doubt several must have thought I was more dangerous than the asylum staff and that must be why they didn't join me… but I never thought they should have died the way you say they did. They were no different from the rest of us."

Azula scowled: that this would afflict her quite so strongly came as a surprise to her, too. Initially, she had told Zirin they wouldn't destroy the asylum altogether because it would be deemed an act of war. Their team didn't need that kind of publicity, most of all when they were about to begin their act as the Kemurikage. But then she asked again, and again, and again… Azula didn't overlook the extent of the damage Zirin had suffered, but their group couldn't afford, couldn't field, a mission quite so dangerous. Zuko was never going to let that one go… just as he didn't. Massively murdering everyone in that building was not a laughing matter: Azula had asked Zirin if she was ready to pay the price for that destruction, and Zirin never failed to scoff at her sentimentality. Only practicality had kept her at bay for some time: they'd get too much attention otherwise, they couldn't afford that. But now… now, after putting so much distance between herself and that place, after seeing the world through different eyes, Azula's heart grieved for the people who weren't saved. She snarled, fists tight.

"Are you going to execute them?" she asked. Zuko sighed.

"I don't know. Maybe not," he said. Azula glanced at him in confusion. "But you have to understand this kind of chaos cannot go unpunished."

"I don't disagree. I just… don't know if I want you to kill them for it," Azula admitted. Zuko sighed, shaking his head.

"I don't even know what I'd do anymore. When I captured them, I was ready to do something final. Right now… I don't know," Zuko admitted. "Truthfully, I don't want them in prison. The Boiling Rock might sound like the best choice, going forward, but… it's not, is it? They could escape just as well, set it on fire, kill everyone there…"

"They'll always be a hazard, is what you're thinking," Azula said. Zuko shrugged.

"You don't expect that to be different now just because I caught them, do you?" he asked. "The only way they won't cause chaos is if I keep them contained, chi-blocked, fully restrained…"

"And then you'll just give them further reason to cause chaos as soon as there's any weakness, any leniency for them," Azula said. Zuko frowned. "That's the thing about hurting people, holding them against their will… it tends to breed resentment and grudges strong enough to last a lifetime. You wouldn't ask anyone who was a prisoner of war to forgive our father for what he did to them, would you?"

"It's different," Zuko said.

"Not where the imprisoned person is standing, it's not," Azula said. "The way they see it, you're complicit in the hell we faced in the asylum. You even left your own inconvenient relative there, too. They'd see it as no reason to change their ways."

"And yet you want me to believe you did change yorus?" Zuko asked. Azula shrugged, raising the mirror in his direction.

"Not that I was looking to change in any way, I certainly didn't care to at first. Took well over a year for Yue's influence to start gaining ground on me," Azula said, glancing at the mirror. Yue smiled wistfully. "But… I think the main thing that helped was having something in common, a goal that all three of us were striving for. We had to work together, and that meant each other's struggles and problems were everyone's concern. I don't know how anything like that could be achieved with Zirin."

"You could talk to her," Zuko said, simply. Azula sighed.

"You'd let me?" she asked. "I wouldn't even know what to say."

"Tell her you're not doing any of your destabilizing efforts anymore," Zuko said. "Tell her you're done with that, and that she'd better be done too unless she wants to deal with…"

"Then… heh. You want me to control her with fear?"

Zuko froze. Azula eyed him with a compassionate smile that turned mirthful shortly.

"As far as my personal experiences go, controlling others with fear can be terribly effective until it's not. People have ways of finding more courage than they ever held inside their hearts and turn on you when you don't expect it," Azula said. "Sounds easy enough at first… but it means you'll most likely end up living in fear your whole life, too. Can't advise it if you don't want to face more hardships than you'd be comfortable with."

Zuko snarled. He knew Azula was making sense, perhaps too much of it. He sighed, covering his face with his hand before shaking his head.

"What's your idea, then?" he asked. "What would you do to fix this?"

"Why are you asking me?" Azula said.

"Because you're making too much sense, so maybe you know how to make this better," Zuko asked. Azula grimaced. "What made you change was… Sokka and Yue? How do we give your allies anything of the sort?"

"You can't force something like that," Azula warned him. Zuko scoffed. "I mean it. They'd be more likely to set an olive branch on fire than to ever accept it smoothly if you hand it to them with the obvious intent of making them change and adapt to a life they don't care to live. If you'd personally showed up in front of me and entrusted me with Yue, somehow, I would have never listened to a single word she said, let alone would I have treated Sokka as anything but a would-be jailor following me everywhere. You had nothing to do with that, hence why I had a much easier time learning to… trust them."

"Then what do we do?" Zuko huffed. "I don't think keeping them in jail forever is going to be fine, or that they'd even stay there forever, they're likely to find a way to escape. Right now? I think… I think they're waiting for you."

"They expect me to break them out," Azula concluded.

"They wouldn't take it well if you show up as newly pardoned and allowed to be part of the family again, though, would they?" Zuko asked. Azula scoffed.

"But I'm not those things… am I?" Azula stared at him skeptically. Zuko winced.

"I… I guess it remains to be seen," he admitted. "But the point is, if I'm the one sending you… they're not going to take it well."

"They'd take it far worse if I pretend not to be your ally and it's inevitably discovered that I was talking to them by your command," Azula pointed out. Zuko sighed.

"Is there no solution to this damn madness?" he asked. "I don't even know what I was expecting from you, but it definitely wasn't… that you couldn't help me deal with them."

"I don't know that I can. But what, exactly, did you hope for me to accomplish?" Azula inquired, crooking an eyebrow. Zuko sighed.

"I don't even know. Talk things over with them. You understand what they did. Say… that I won't execute them for the asylum, even though a lot of people are demanding that I do. Say that I won't take it that far, and I mean it. What you've explained is… alarming. I don't know why I never thought…"

"You had no time for it. It's not really a defense… just a fact," Azula said. "Besides, you had very little cause for concern, right? I'm the problem and if someone's causing chaos, it's most likely me rather than my captor – or, rather, the physician attempting to control my every move…"

"Did they… make it worse?" Zuko asked. Azula frowned. "I mean, whether for you or the others. Your breakdown… was it a sign of something bigger, deeper, or did they just take advantage of my belief that it was, when it wasn't?"

"That's hard to say," Azula admitted. "I don't have the most accurate memories, frankly, when it comes to what happened. But it's possible, yes, that they weren't trying to help anyone heal. I'm not sure if it takes a year to recover from what I went through, but their grand treatments typically only made my mind more chaotic, and their therapy attempts didn't help matters either. They convinced me of… of the worst things I believed of myself, I suppose. I'm only realizing that they might have been wrong now."

"Then… could you talk to them from that angle?" Zuko asked. Azula raised an eyebrow. "Tell them the truth about what they did, and whatever they convinced them of. Make them understand that… well, the point should have never been to treat anyone interned in the asylum as a criminal. You're not undesirables in society… you were people who needed help, not to be tossed aside. And I… I did exactly that to you."

Azula frowned: it wasn't every day that Zuko seemed so torn up about whatever mistakes he had made… more so, when those mistakes concerned her. Azula waited patiently as he composed himself, and he raised his gaze towards her.

"I don't know where we'll go after this. I don't know what to offer you. I can't make up for my mistakes," he said. "But… I can try to break the cycle. To stop treating you as I have. To… to be a better brother, even if I barely know where to start with that."

"You'll have to figure that one out yourself. I have no expectations and no demands," Azula said. "But I do believe I should clarify one thing, Zuzu… I already said it earlier, but I'll say it again: I'm not back to stay."

Zuko eyed her with uncertainty upon hearing those words anew. Azula swallowed hard.

"Maybe I will do that one day, I don't know, but… I haven't finished my duties to Yue. And once I do, I might still not end up here again later anyhow," Azula said.

"You say that, but going to the Earth Kingdom would be very dangerous for you," Zuko said. "The manhunt for you in the Fire Nation will end, but…"

"And that's good to know, but I might not need to stay here forever even so," Azula shrugged. Zuko's eyes widened. "Did you hope I would?"

"Well… after what you've said, I figured you might go on the road for a while longer. But this is your home, isn't it?" he asked. Azula smiled.

"Did it still feel that way, once you returned from your banishment? I was under the impression it didn't," she pointed out. Zuko gritted his teeth, fists tight.

"If that's how you feel right now, well… it's bound to be my fault. But that was never my intent," Zuko said. "If I can…"

"I don't know that you can, and I don't know that you should have to," Azula said, shaking her head. "We're having a productive conversation right now, and you're finally listening to me, which I appreciate a lot, Zuzu… but I don't think this should be for the sake of ensuring that I stay at your beck and call constantly. If you've been running this nation without my help, you can carry on doing it too. If you want my aid, it's still up to me to decide that I'll give it. But for now… life has enough things left to offer me, even though I figured it didn't. If all signs point to the Fire Nation, I'll come back, but… I'm enjoying everything else far more than I thought I would."

"Dad would be cross if he knew that. Which is always a good thing," Zuko said. Azula smiled a little.

"You never really did get to see the world just for the sake of it," Azula said. Zuko shrugged. "You were on a mission, and just surviving eventually… but you didn't see the Earth Kingdom or the Water Tribes for what they were, with no pressures. I suppose… I recommend it. Maybe you'll want to abdicate by then, though I'm not sure who you'd hand the throne to if you did. I… I really don't want it."

She said the words casually… but a stronger smile spread over her face after she did. A soft laugh left her lips and she smiled brightly. Zuko's heart clenched at the sight of it… of such clarity and certainty in his usually troubled sister's visage.

"I don't want to be Fire Lord," Azula said, closing her eyes. "And that's probably the most liberating thing I've ever come to realize."

Zuko nodded, accepting her decision: it was different than him claiming she'd never take the title for herself. Azula had reached that point without him pushing her to it, even if not necessarily by herself… it wasn't a struggle anymore. It wasn't some chaotic, unnerving conflict. Azula didn't want the throne… she finally had accepted that. Zuko would be free from the chaos she could unleash with her antics until something else inevitably rose to take her place.

He just hoped it wouldn't be Zirin.

"Alright. That's… good to know. But… can I ask you to talk to them, then? To your old allies? At least, to Zirin?" he said. Azula's smile waned… but she shrugged.

"Might as well try. Though I don't think the outcome is going to be any more positive than it would have been if you'd tried this approach with me a year ago," Azula said. Zuko nodded.

"I'll try to brace myself for it. Azula… thank you," he said. The Princess smiled as she rose to her full height.

"For finally giving you a break? I'll find some other way to make you lose your temper, Zuko, don't you worry about that," Azula smirked.

"Heh. I won't lower my guard a lot, then," Zuko said. "Look… maybe I should've said something else first. I just… I wasn't ready to accept I've failed you in more ways than I thought. As far as I could tell, you were a problem indeed, you were someone I had to keep at a distance because you'd only ever hurt me…"

"And I was," Azula acknowledged, with a shrug.

"You weren't," Zuko countered. Azula scoffed. "You were my sister. And I never really thought about what that actually meant until… until I realized you had a whole group of people who had found your value and were helping you shine, and I wasn't one of them. It's not that I feel like I have to be there too… but it feels like I failed you anyway. Like maybe you could have reached this stage if I had tried a little harder… if I had been there for you in ways I wasn't. I kept seeing you as an enemy to defeat, no matter if I already had this crown on my head and… and I was wrong to do that. I can't help but think your life might have been a lot different if I had been less impulsive and stupid over some things. I'm… I'm sorry, Azula. I'm really sorry."

Azula's heart clenched, her throat thickening with tears that seemed to bloom out of nowhere. That wasn't what she had expected from Zuko… wasn't what she would have demanded from him, either. He didn't have to apologize to her… but he had. It was difficult to know what to say to that… though perhaps, it wasn't all that different from how she had responded to Yue, upon hearing her say she loved her.

She hadn't intended to say the words at all, regardless of how she felt. She hadn't thought they'd change anything… but regardless of her reasoning, her instincts pushed her to speak unlikely words to her brother all the same:

"I'm sorry too," Azula whispered, at last. Zuko gazed at her in astounded silence. "I did a lot of things just to make you suffer, I won't sugarcoat that. I wasn't ready to reason with what was going on in my own head, and I took it out on you. Before all this, well, yes, I certainly teased you a lot and I did hunt you down under Father's orders…"

"You don't have to apologize for that," Zuko admitted, with a small grin. Azula raised an eyebrow. "Well, we were kids. It looks a lot simpler now than it did before. I just couldn't seem to make sense of it back then… I was more troubled than I thought, too. Maybe I still am… but I'll try to reason with myself a little more than I always do. Without just… thinking everything's someone else's fault, every time."

"That'd be a good life choice," Azula said, with a slight grin.

Zuko sighed, stepping towards the doorway as Azula glanced down at the mirror: Yue smiled giddily, no doubt thrilled over having witnessed what appeared to be an unexpected reconciliation between Azula and her brother. The Fire Nation Princess smirked a little, shaking her head at her friend's excitement.

"Well, then… ready to go see Zirin?" Zuko asked.

Azula's heart clenched again… but she nodded, steeling herself for a reunion that promised to be a lot more chaotic and unpleasant than this one had turned out to be.

__________________________________

Prison Tower wasn't meant to be a friendly place. Azula's heart clenched as she approached it about an hour later, a foreboding feeling lingering in her heart: her father was there, but she wasn't here to see him today. Maybe one day she would be ready to face him… but the way her mother had explained her own visits to Ozai, it sounded like Azula wasn't remotely prepared to meet her father yet. He had expectations of her that she hadn't fulfilled… and that she never would.

She didn't really know what her future would look like, but she clenched her mirror tightly and let herself bask in the peace, the freedom, of knowing she would no longer serve the purposes that had damn near destroyed her. At the very least, Yue had died but succeeded at saving her people by doing so: Azula's sacrifices had amounted to nothing. Her vindictiveness had achieved nothing, too. She was tired… and ready to move on, now that she finally had a chance to imagine a future, vague and confusing as it might be, by Sokka's side…

Who, of course, stood right beside her at the moment, arms folded over his chest as he frowned at the prison ahead.

"You really had to come?" Zuko asked him, an eyebrow twitching. "You could have stayed with my mom…"

"You could have stayed with her too," Sokka scoffed. Zuko gritted his teeth and glared at him.

"I'm the Fire Lord! Azula can't talk to Zirin if I'm not here to authorize it!" he said. Sokka pouted.

"Then you'll have to put up with me being here too, nothing more to it," he said.

Azula smiled as they marched into the tower: Sokka's devotion to her hardly seemed real most times, and yet she knew it was. She had a baseline as to what his lies looked like, and it certainly wasn't the confident, strong front he was showing Zuko right now.

"You okay? Ready for this?" Sokka asked her, once Zuko took to speaking with the warden, who appeared alarmed to see Azula as a visitor rather than another prisoner.

"I doubt it," Azula admitted. "You didn't have to come, Zuko isn't wrong about that… but I'm glad you did."

"Oh. Uh, heh," Sokka smiled, cheeks flushing slightly as he ran a hand over his hair. "I'm glad you're glad! Though, you know, if you need anything…"

"I'd reach out, but… I don't know if I will be able to do it," Azula said, frowning sternly again. "You'll be right outside?"

"Yeah. And you can handle this Zirin, right?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged.

"I'd better. She's usually not enough of a bender to be a cause for concern for me, I'd dare say," Azula mused, frowning slightly. Sokka smiled and nodded.

"You're the strongest firebender there is, after all. Nothing she can do should faze you… but in case it does, I'll stay nearby and even cheer you on."

"Well, I've never really fought with a supportive audience like that, but fair enough," Azula said. "Besides… we shouldn't need to fight at all. It's… a conversation."

She said the words while knowing they weren't entirely true: Zirin would make this a battlefield if she had reason to. And if Azula told her what Zuko would expect her to? It might just be a guarantee that they'd wind up in conflict indeed.

The warden led them to the room where Zirin had been brought moments before they arrived. Zuko and Sokka remained tense by the door, and Azula breathed deeply as she readied herself to enter…

"Good luck," Sokka whispered.

"If you need any help, let us know," Zuko said, frowning. "You don't have to face her alone."

"I'm not sure about that last thing… and I'll try not to make it come to the first thing, too," Azula said.

She stepped between them: she gripped Sokka's hand gently as she passed beside him before pushing the door open. Sokka gritted his teeth, gazing after her hopelessly, his anguish increasing once the door closed, leaving Azula alone with her previous second-in-command.

Zirin sat in a slovenly position on a chair, in the center of the room. She appeared to have been bound to it. Azula frowned as she stopped before her… and Zirin scowled as she raised her gaze, gradually astounded upon realizing this wasn't just another visit by Fire Lord Zuko.

"You… you're back," Zirin said, a spark of hope in her gaze… one that went away quickly, replaced by distrust. "How? Who the hell allowed you to visit me officially? Or did you kill your brother and took his appointment instead?"

"I didn't do that," Azula said. Zirin scoffed.

"Of course not. You don't have the spine for it. Had the spine to get rid of your inconvenient friend yet, or was that too much to ask too?" Zirin asked, spitefully. "You were gone long enough. I thought… did it work? Are you yourself again, or…?"

"It didn't," Azula said. Zirin snarled. "She's still with me. Nothing has worked so far… and I don't think anything has to, either."

"Oh, right, so you're just going to keep botching up operations and messing up our objectives by being completely swept up by stupid arguments with the damn girl in your reflection?" Zirin asked. "You're unbelievable."

"I have no intentions of letting that happen because… there will be no more operations or objectives for us," Azula said. Zirin froze. "Which is your fault in no small part. If you hadn't gotten caught, the whole lot of you could have gone on to cause chaos without me. Begs the question of why you were so eager to be the leader when you botched it up so badly as soon as I was out of the way. Isn't that what you were always looking forward to? Isn't it exactly what you wanted?"

"I…!" Zirin snarled, shaking her head. "What's it to you, what I wanted? You…! You kept us chained down, locked to your whims! You saved us and broke us out of that hellhole, and we owed you because of that…!"

"The hellhole you finally burned to the ground, or so I hear," Azula said: Zirin had the gall to smirk. "With all the remaining patients still inside."

"They were as bad as the physicians," Zirin said, shrugging. "Content to live in their chains, emboldening them to do it to others, like us. Don't like it? Not my problem. They got what they deserved."

Azula scowled. Zirin's demeanor didn't change for it.

"I've prided myself in being a terrible person, you know?" Azula said. "In not particularly caring who I hurt and who I didn't… but I guess I overestimated myself. Compared to you, apparently I still have boundaries and sense…"

"You mean you're a coward. Spineless and weak when you should take action… always been in your damn brother's pocket even when you acted like you weren't," Zirin hissed. "Did he offer to pardon you because you weren't part of the destruction, maybe? Might have offered you the chance to execute us by your own hand too. Was that why you were allowed to come here?"

"I'm here… as your final salvation," Azula said. Zirin snorted in disbelief. "If you won't listen to me, if you won't forsake what you're doing, the way I did…"

"Ha! You're done, then? All done destabilizing the Fire Lord's pathetic rule?" Zirin cackled. "You're quitting now? And why's that, exactly?! Who's caught your leash now, Azula? Who's pulling at it?!"

"I don't have one anymore. You, on the other hand…" Azula said. Zirin laughed, shaking her head.

"Don't give me that. I'm no one's beast," Zirin said, her eyes growing colder as all mirth fled from her face as quickly as it arrived. "What was it? The Fire Lord…? Nah, you'd need a stronger incentive than that. Maybe… heh. The pest in your reflection? Is that who?"

"Shut up," Azula hissed impulsively: Zirin laughed again.

"Controlled by that thing, just as you were by your mother. Funny," Zirin said, coldly again. "You're so weak. So spineless…"

"I have more than enough strength and spine to stand here and see you for what you are," Azula snapped. Zirin raised her eyebrows.

"And what's that?" she asked.

Azula breathed deeply, glaring into Zirin's dark eyes… before giving her an answer:

"A lost, helpless, desperate fool looking for purpose and drive and finding none," Azula said. Zirin scoffed. "You've convinced yourself that destroying the asylum was the right choice but it wasn't: all you achieved was proving them right in fearing you… in wanting you out of their way. You've never imagined a way out, a chance to become something different, to start anew elsewhere. You don't even know the value of that kind of opportunity… because no one has ever granted it to you."

"And someone granted it to you?" Zirin asked, derisively. Azula gritted her teeth. "What? Pfft. Your brother?"

"It's not him," Azula said, gripping the mirror in her pocket. "It's someone I never thought would have any manner of compassion for me and yet he did. So…"

"Ah, don't tell me… you found a boyfriend," Zirin said. "No doubt you're thrilled, what you always wanted…"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Azula scoffed.

"You're so sad and anguished by loneliness, aren't you? I guess you're clinging to the first moron who overlooked… well, all the crazy shit and just latched onto how pretty you were?" Zirin asked, with a sarcastic smile. Azula smirked.

"If that would make you feel any better, go on ahead and believe that. But he's… he wasn't part of this because of me. Not at first. We haven't been journeying together just because he's craving me. He's the one who's helping me fix what's wrong with Yue…"

"And you love him, do you?" Zirin smirked. "Well, wait a few months after the novelty wears off and see how he likes you once you become the harpy that screams at him over anything and everything, just as it goes in all fucked-up marriages. You can't exactly expect to do better than that, can you? Either way… this is stupid. Someone who caved in to something as pathetic as falling for some stupid guy, lecturing me on what to do with my life…"

"I've said I'm your last chance at something better than staying locked inside this building for however long you have left to live," Azula said. Zirin rolled her eyes. "Zuko will kill you if no one stops him. Is that what you want?"

"I want the old Azula back. The one who would break us out of here in a heartbeat," Zirin snapped.

"Oh, you mean the one who laughed when she heard you'd gotten yourselves locked up in jail?" Azula smirked. Zirin tensed up. "I did exactly that, you know? I thought it was a beautiful irony: so much badgering me and pestering me about how you were such a better leader, all your plotting, all your talk behind my back… and you were an even bigger failure than I ever was, in the end. Funny how that works, isn't it?"

"Shut up," Zirin snarled. Azula glared at her coldly.

"That's the Azula you were asking for, though. The one who would walk away and let you get crushed under my brother's boot out of vindictiveness alone," she continued. "I'm here to tell you to turn over a new leaf and set aside your intent, or you're only going to continue paying the price for it. And I won't be paying it with you."

"So that's it, then? You're forsaking me and running off with… with that fool in your head, with the idiot who somehow wants to date you or whatever?" Zirin scoffed.

"I wouldn't be forsaking anything… provided you and the others agree to stop, for good," Azula said. "Zuko is an idiot in many ways, and he didn't truly understand the gravity of what happened in that place. What you did to the other patients is unforgivable, Zirin… were the circumstances any different, I would be advocating for your death myself. But I know why you did it… I just cannot accept that you found no way to spare them. Even so, you can rot in this cell forever or you can make something of yourself…"

"Something to aid this wretched nation?" Zirin asked. "I'd pick the pyre."

"Really?" Azula asked. Zirin scoffed.

"The Fire Nation should go down in flames… and I don't care for it to be reborn from its ashes," she hissed. "You, your accursed family… you all just prove there's no saving this nation. And maybe I'm the one who can do it… by laying waste upon it all. That… that's my fate. There was no Phoenix King, in the end… but I could be the Queen."

"The fuck are you…?" Azula frowned, but she froze: she had seen that look on Zirin's face before.

It was a sudden burst of vacancy that preceded a storm.

The reason why she had been sent to the asylum in the first place.

"Zirin. Zirin!" Azula called her, stepping closer to the woman. "Snap back here! Zirin!"

She was tempted to slap her, but she held back out of knowing that violence might just unleash the very worst of reactions from the firebender even faster than Zirin intended: heat began rising within the room, and Zirin continued not to react… but something seemed to be instants away from boiling over inside her. It was as though she had grown comatose… focusing her power so much that every shred of her energy would become firebending.

"Zirin!" Azula snapped. "I will do it! I will chi-block you!"

It was the only way in which she had been stopped once, when she had withdrawn into that state at night, setting their campsite on fire as a consequence. The others had hidden away from Zirin, and only Azula had reduced her. She had spent hours writhing furiously afterwards, sputtering flames out of her throat all the same…

But this time, Zirin was faster.

This time, Azula raised her hand to stop her just as Zirin screamed.

A violent burst of flames caught Azula just as she had been about to prevent it from rushing out: she was flung back, falling hard against the closed door, as the flames pouring over Zirin's body, charring at her skin, burned and melted the chains and restraints, destroying the chair where she had been perched…

She stood up, fire still alight over her body. Azula snarled, rubbing her back as she felt the door shifting behind her.

"Azula?! Azula! What's going on?! Azula?!" Sokka's voice reached her, and Azula snarled as she pushed herself away from the door.

"YOU'LL NEVER BREAK ME! THERE WON'T EVEN BE ASHES LEFT WHEN I'M DONE WITH YOU!" Zirin shrieked: her hand rose towards Azula, and she leveled a new firebending blast in her direction.

Azula snarled: the door swung open violently once her weight no longer kept it shut, for Sokka shoved it. He had a perfect view of how his princess caught an onslaught of pouring flames in one hand, brandishing it in her control, stealing it from the woman before her…

How? How was Zirin unleashing that kind of power? The room was as good as an inferno, one that Azula was restraining with every ounce of her strength…

Her left leg was unsteady.

There was something dark trickling down her trousers.

"Azula!" Sokka roared.

"GET BACK!" Azula rebuffed, building her power over the flames and wrestling them out of Zirin's control.

This wasn't new, even if it was far more potent than whenever it had happened during their previous mishaps on the road: Zirin's firebending was a threat to anyone around her, even herself. Long ago, Zirin had learned to channel her body's energy in ways completely unknown to Azula until then, as good as shutting down as she gathered her energy in a single point. Even her heart would stop beating for that small moment… and then everything would bloom again, unleashing from her body as an explosion, a storm of flames for which her body was the conduit.

It was more akin to a phoenix than anything Ozai had been. Zirin died for a blink of a moment only to return shrouded by flames. She had hurt herself with her own fire with these stunts in the past, destroyed her childhood home, she had always been restrained with chi-blocking when she had dared do it in the asylum… and chi-blocking was how Azula would keep her in check whenever Zirin's temper got the better of her while they were part of the same group.

She had surely used that technique to lay waste upon the asylum. She had gathered her power and unleashed all of it in one violent, suspended burst that would last for as long as she could sustain it.

And now, Azula struggled against the onslaught of fire that Zirin unleashed through her throat, her body seemingly burning alive as she unleashed her flames into the small room.

She couldn't scream forever, Sokka counted on that: he stood beside Azula, behind her, worried about the wound she had most likely sustained in her left leg… then, Zirin finally slowed her outburst, even as sparks poured from her closed mouth.

"Had enough yet?!" Azula roared: the room turned blue, as Azula brandished Zirin's remaining flames…

She could very well return them at her former ally.

But she didn't do it.

The fire diminished in size and strength, stifled gradually by Azula's expert bending: Zirin laughed, though, raising a hand menacingly.

"You will pay for all your broken promises!" Zirin shouted. "Your cursed family… I will destroy it at all costs! You… the Fire Lord!"

Azula had never understood Zirin's particular hatred towards Zuko: her brother hadn't even entered the room, but Zirin knew he was out there, somewhere. That, alone, would suffice to motivate her into destroying him at once.

She geared up to roar again, and Azula tensed up…

Her left leg buckled.

She gasped: why had she lost her grip? Why had she…?

She reached down to touch it, and only then did she realize her thigh hurt: blood. Her hand was stained with blood.

She shuddered at the sight of it, failing to understand the implications, only realizing now that there was something painfully imbedded in her skin. She couldn't rise back up. She couldn't stand. She couldn't…

Zirin unleashed a new burst of flames.

Azula wouldn't be fast enough to stop them.

A projectile flew violently through the flames, spinning fast in the direction where Zirin stood... but Azula didn't see it strike her.

She couldn't, for she was wrapped in protective arms as the remaining flames of that inferno fell upon the back of the person holding her.

Sokka cried out in pain as the flames charred his body: Azula yelped…

And just as suddenly as it had arisen, the fire extinguished.

"Sokka! Sokka, why would you…?!" Azula gasped, struggling to push herself back upright: Sokka weighed heavily on her, and he snarled with pain under the damage he had sustained. "Sokka!"

"Azula!" Zuko's voice reached them: the Princess turned towards him in anguish, seeing he had retrieved help, but not fast enough to stop Zirin from hurting Sokka.

Zuko's eyes widened at the sight of Sokka's burnt back: his shirt's back had been charred, leaving solely blackened fabric at the edges of the hole across the extension of his spine. Redness underneath betrayed that he had sustained a strong burn… even if the person bending the flames that had hurt him now lay unconscious, bleeding from the forehead.

Sokka's boomerang had spun awkwardly back to him, landing a few steps away, after he struck Zirin down before she could destroy the room, the Prison Tower, everything around them.

"Help…" Azula gasped, gripping Sokka firmly. She looked to Zuko with vulnerability most unlike her… uttering a word she most likely had never spoken to him. "Zuko…!"

The Fire Lord frowned with determination: he gave orders to his soldiers, and he stepped up to take charge of the situation. The guilt inside his chest would be resolved later: for now, Zirin would be contained anew, and Sokka and Azula would be taken to safety.

____________________________________

Sokka sighed, smiling sadly at Azula as she sat by his bedside, her brow furrowed:

The shards of the mirror nestled in a pouch, in her hand.

The mirror had broken against the door in the impact when she had been flung back with Zirin's initial outburst. She hadn't realized it, at first. She hadn't wanted to believe it was true, either, when she understood that her first gift by Sokka had been destroyed by Zirin's attack.

"I know she can show up elsewhere, I do, but… this sucks," Azula huffed, shaking her head and setting the mirror aside, trying to ignore her bandaged thigh. The damage hadn't been that deep, certainly not enough to endanger her, but she wasn't supposed to move around much for the next few days while her body amended the damage.

"We'll get you a new mirror. A prettier one," Sokka said. "One more suitable for you."

"That one was fine," Azula said, sighing as she set the pouch down on Sokka's nightstand. "But I shouldn't complain. You… you matter more than a broken mirror."

"Do I?" Sokka smirked. Azula scoffed. "What?"

"Are you really going to twist my concern for you into some weird flirting or something…?" Azula asked. Sokka laughed, nodding awkwardly as he lay on his back, head turned towards her. Azula scoffed, amused nonetheless. "You're so ridiculous."

"You like that I am, though," he said. Azula lowered her gaze.

"You know… Zuko once did what you just did, too. For your sister," Azula said. Sokka's smile waned slightly. "I was the one on the offensive that time. It's rare enough that I was the one trying to defend others this time… that I was the target of someone out of control, rather than being the one who was out of control or out of line. But it's weirder still that someone would jump into the fire for me."

She raised her gaze towards him, and Sokka smiled a little. Azula shook her head.

"No laughing matter. No smiling matter, either. You could have been burned far worse than you were. It's fortunate that they think you'll recover safely," Azula said. Sokka scoffed.

"Your fire's definitely stronger than hers," he said. Azula rolled her eyes, though she smiled a little. "You overestimated her strength."

"I'm quite sure I did no such thing," Azula said, shaking her head and reaching out a hand to stroke his hair gently. Sokka grinned giddily. "You didn't have to do that, is my point."

"Azula… I love you," Sokka said, earnestly. Her heart jolted to hear the words from his lips again. "I'm sorry to say that's what love means to me. Maybe you don't like it… but I'm going to jump into the fire for you. I'm going to stand between you and any knife that comes your way. If I get hurt… well, it's fine if you won't be."

"That's… you're an idiot," Azula said, frowning. Sokka shrugged.

"Most people think so too…"

"Well, most of them are wrong because they're saying it for the wrong reasons," Azula said. Sokka snorted. "You… you can't go around pretending your life and your safety matter less than that of everyone you care about."

"So… am I supposed to protect myself instead?" Sokka asked, puzzled. Azula gritted her teeth…

A most confusing, surprising epiphany hit her as consequence of his question. Sokka appeared to await an answer… and she was surprised to find she actually had one:

"You're supposed to fight by my side," Azula decided. Sokka's eyes widened. "We're… we're a team. Successful strategies don't require the sacrifice of your own allies. If you need to discard them as you progress towards your goal, you're probably not that good a strategist. More capable and able-bodied allies mean you have more resources at your disposal. It's simple and obvious."

"Heh. So… a practical, reasonable point of view encourages you to believe that I shouldn't jump into danger," Sokka smirked. "You know what? That's exactly why I like you. Love to hear it."

Azula smirked back at him, shaking her head: she couldn't help but grow fonder of him for that reaction. She suspected anyone lesser would have been cross with her for responding with practicality rather than sentimentality after a sacrifice that great… but not Sokka. They certainly saw eye to eye when it came to strategic matters, if nothing else.

"The next time we're in danger, if we are… and we most likely will be, considering who I am, and what your luck in life has been like," Azula pointed out, to Sokka's amusement. "Please… work with me. Don't jump into danger that way. It… it means a lot, that you would. But I'm not exactly eager to lose you. It was good thinking to knock Zirin out with your boomerang, you sure threw it hard for it to cut across her fire that way…"

"Well, these muscles aren't just for show," Sokka said, tightening his biceps to her amusement. Azula laughed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "See? See?"

"Dork," Azula smiled. He snickered proudly. "I'm grateful anyway. Just… don't do that again, will you?"

"I'll try not to," Sokka smiled warmly, reaching up to clasp her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her palm.

The tingling feeling of being treasured by someone to the point where he might sacrifice himself for her sake hadn't receded. It almost brought her to tears. Her throat tightened as she pondered it, as she realized that perhaps love did look a little bit like what Sokka had described for her before, even if it shouldn't be as self-sacrificial as that…

She leaned closer to him on his bed, pressing her lips to his cheek. Sokka grinned mischievously at the feeling.

"That's nice…" he said.

"You do realize… that we're not going to sleep together until your back recovers?"

"What?!"

Sokka yelped, and Azula laughed at his extreme reaction: he even seemed to rise from the bed, and she had to reel him in so he'd stop being so careless.

"Come on, you won't be able to lie on your back…"

"Well, I won't lie on it. I don't need to. You'll have to put up with being under me more often!" Sokka pouted.

"You really are that eager to get back to it, are you?" Azula smiled, stroking his hair and kissing his cheek again. Sokka groaned needily.

"When you're being this nice, it's hard to help it," he said. "C'mon, I could just lie on top and even as we sleep, I'll just rest on, uh, the best pillow in the world…"

"You like my breasts far too much for your own good," Azula said: Sokka smiled wildly, glancing at her chest even if her clothes covered her bosom fully.

"What's not to like?" he said. "You're delightful. And delicious, too."

"I'm… ugh, you don't have to be so crude, Sokka," Azula blushed, shaking her head as she pushed him slightly on his mattress. Sokka snorted at her remark.

"If it disgusts you so much, why are you climbing up here right after I said something stupid?" he asked: Azula was halfway on the mattress by then, and she shot him a fierce glare.

"Because I… had already meant to do this before you started being embarrassing," she huffed, lying down fully beside him. Sokka giggled, and Azula rolled her eyes before reaching towards him. "Come here, you annoying jerk, you…"

"Woah, wait…!"

His request was not heeded: thus, before he knew it, Sokka was left to lie his head down happily, comfortably, atop Azula's chest.

"I hope this will help you recover. At least, might brighten your spirits," Azula said, unsure of why she felt bashful after what she'd done. Sokka, of course, beamed with delight.

"Sure brightens them," he said. "Though I hope it won't help much because that means I'd recover too quickly. If I don't, then I'll get to do this even more often, and…"

"If you recover faster I'll sit on your face sooner than you know," Azula declared, boldly: Sokka smiled wildly, raising his head from her chest eagerly.

"You will?!" he exclaimed. Azula snorted and laughed.

"Guess you're happy when I'm the one who's crude. You know, you're delightful too. And ridiculous," she said, cupping his face with her hands before kissing his eager lips softly.

It was a tender, meaningful kiss for the two of them, and they extended it for as long as they dared with sweet, gentle pecks, as well as deeper, thorough explorations of each other, interspersed between the chaste kisses. His hands dared touch her with desire, even if he wasn't about to act on it… and Azula let him. She felt his fingers trailing her weak spots and she thrived in it, quietly, letting her lover trigger her pleasure at his leisure.

"You didn't need to do this either, you know?" Sokka smiled a little, raising his head to gaze at her. "Could've just left me to rest quietly while withholding yourself from me…"

"Why would I want to do that?" Azula asked, stroking his hair gently. Sokka chuckled.

"Don't know. Because I'm the annoying guy who put himself in danger for your sake when he should have been fighting alongside you?" he said.

"Well, lesson learned now, I hope. You're… a little forgiven," Azula said, with a smirk. Sokka laughed, his brow pressed against hers.

"Good to know," he said. Azula bit her lip.

"Maybe we're not so different, you and I. You jumped in front of an inferno to protect me because you love me… and I let you rest on my chest because I…"

"Azula?" Sokka raised an eyebrow, looking at her with surprise.

Azula breathed deeply before meeting his eyes: it felt like the biggest risk she had ever taken. She didn't know what was so frightening about uttering those words, she had already spoken them to someone else…

But doing it with Sokka felt like a greater commitment. Like deciding she was throwing her lot with him for the rest of their lives, if he could stand her for that long.

The way he gazed at her suggested he was capable of that, and so much more.

So she had to do it. She just had to jump… and wait for gravity to claim her, or for her wings to burst from her back and help her take to the skies.

"I love you."

Sokka's eyes gleamed with emotion, reflected by the tears that were born in the corners of his eyes. He laughed softly, and Azula smiled warmly too, if tearfully: he kissed her sweetly, and her arms locked around his neck as she kept him close.

"Azula…" he managed to say, with a broken voice. Azula shook her head.

"It's okay. We'll… talk things over later," she said, caressing his cheek. "We'll decide whatever we need to decide, alright? For now, just… just live in the here and now. Just… just let me love you even if I barely know how, okay?"

"You know more than you realize you do," Sokka smiled warmly: the affection in his eyes caught her so off guard she nearly melted into his next kiss, into his warm, loving embrace…

Yes, there were many things for them to work through still. Yes, perhaps she'd regret having said those words once it sunk in that she had done it, whenever she lost her mind to anguish over not being good enough for him… but right now, everything felt just right. His kisses were as warm as sunlight, setting her inner flame afire with potent emotions she never knew she could experience.

Fire could be so deadly, so devastating. It could lay waste upon everything, just as Zirin had tried to… but it could be warm and gentle, too. It could embody passion… it could embody life. The dark shadows fire cast around itself were intricately connected with its light. The hand of the bender wielding it would determine the true purpose of flames: destruction or creation, hatred or love, life or death…

And right now, the fire in her heart burned with unequivocal devotion for the man whose brow pressed to hers, as they basked in their newfound peace. A part of Azula wickedly wished to ask if this was exactly what he had been missing with Suki… but she didn't dare mar a perfect moment of shared tenderness with any matters besides the two of them. All teasing could wait for later.

Though they would be forced to interrupt that crystallized moment of happiness rather quickly, too, once they heard footsteps approaching Sokka's room, as well as the quelled voices of Zuko and his physicians, who no doubt were informing him of Sokka's state.

"Uuuh…" Sokka grimaced: Azula flushed as she squirmed clumsily, awkwardly, out of Sokka's embrace.

"Lie down quietly there. Nothing happened here," she said, bashful, carefully moving so her leg wouldn't hurt.

"Right. Right. I'll… pretend I was asleep, yep. That's it," Sokka smiled, closing his eyes and relaxing.

Azula's heart raced as she took her seat: Zuko barged in moments later, without knocking.

"Still can't bother announcing yourself before entering any rooms?" Azula asked. Zuko grimaced, slowing down at first before stepping closer to Azula, sitting beside her.

"I guess I ought to work on that," he said. "How is he?"

"He's… asleep. As you can see," Azula said, trying not to show her bashfulness too overtly – while there was much they would need to work on and decide, one of such things was settling on whether to keep matters quiet a little longer or blatantly sharing the truth of what their relationship was with everyone around them… such as Zuko.

"Well… yeah. I can," Zuko sighed. "The physicians say he might… might have light marks left. Fortunately, the fire receded fast enough so it isn't as severe as, well… my face."

"It wasn't a third-degree burn," Azula concluded. Zuko nodded.

"Still… I don't feel like this is the right choice," Zuko said. Azula raised an eyebrow. "I mean… my physicians are the best the Fire Nation can offer. But is Fire Nation medicine going to be enough?"

"I have no idea. I hope so?" Azula said. Zuko sighed.

"I think we should get him to someone who could alleviate his pain much faster. Maybe even heal him enough so his skin isn't damaged forever," Zuko said. "Not even with light marks."

"Is that even possible?" Azula asked.

"Waterbending healing is impressive. You'll see," Zuko said, reassuringly.

"You're bringing a waterbender here?" Azula asked. "Or… do you want us to go to the Northern Water Tribe again?"

"I, uh… didn't mean for us to travel that far. A little less far, frankly," Zuko said, twiddling his thumbs awkwardly. Azula frowned.

"What?"

"There's… a really great waterbending healer who would gladly look after Sokka and make sure he's okay. And I think we should trust her to take good care of him. I know I do… though I'm not sure you do. Sokka would, though, I mean, she's… uh, well… his sister."

Azula had started to suspect what Zuko was getting at right before he arrived at his destination: her jaw dropped, and she inched away from him before blurting out the one answer she could give her brother's suggestion:

"Absolutely not."

"Azula, he's her brother. She'll kill us if we don't tell her he was in danger, if we don't take him to her…!"

"She'll kill you for harboring me at all, and then kill me for being, well, me! So as far as I can tell, the casualties will be minimal provided we just… avoid her. Forever."

Zuko snorted, slightly amused by the panic Katara elicited in Azula's heart. The Princess glared at her brother in displeasure, and he shook his head.

"I'll go too and make sure she understands that none of this is your fault. If anything… it's mine," Zuko said. Azula winced…

"As touching as it is to hear you admit that? I still don't want to go. Nope. Not a chance," Azula said, eyes wide.

"You might just like Air Temple Island…"

"What does that even matter?! I'm not going to jump right into their hands when they thought I'd kidnapped Sokka to begin with!"

"Well, I'll clear that up too! It'll be fine! Maybe we can call Toph too, I bet she'd help clear your name! Maybe she even told Aang and Katara that you're not a hazard to Sokka already…!"

"Right, and you think they believed her, if she did? You're as gullible as…"

"If you guys argued any louder, maybe you'd finally make sure that no one gets any rest around these parts, you know?"

Both Azula and Zuko froze up at Sokka's accusatory tone and deadpan glare – evidently, his attempt to pretend that he was sleeping had ended very quickly. Their apologetic grimaces brought a smirk to his face, and he shook his head at them.

"We can go to Air Temple Island. I'll handle Katara… and I'll make sure to have a loud argument with her just as you two are trying to fall asleep, too."

"Haha. You're hilarious," Zuko scoffed. Azula chuckled, shaking her head at Sokka's promise. "But then… once you're okay to travel? We'll… we'll get going. We'll get you some more healing, Sokka. You'll make a full recovery."

"As noisy as you may be… that's nice of you, buddy. Thanks," Sokka grinned.

Zuko didn't stay for much longer, busy as he was: Azula's nervousness over the next leg of their journey didn't diminish at all… but once Zuko was gone, she reached out to take Sokka's hand in hers: he smiled as he fell asleep holding it, and just by the sight of that gentle smile upon his face, Azula allowed herself to believe wistfully that everything would work out for the best…

They were gone. No light. No reflections. Nowhere for her to peer through and understand what had happened. The mirror was shattered, stained with her host's blood.

"You see? You hurt her! And you keep hurting her! Your meddling ruined her bonds with her allies, and you couldn't save her from another betrayal!"

Yue gritted her teeth, closing her eyes as she tried not to listen to the cackling cruelty of her captor. She didn't want to hear it. She didn't need to…

"Yue… Yue… Yue…"

A second voice. The one she heard at times, a familiar voice… it was kind, it was reaching out for her…

The dark restraints around her body tightened. She closed her eyes and hoped they'd hold. She needed them to hold. Otherwise…

"It won't be long now. It won't be long," her captor giggled with cruelty: she refused to look at him. She wouldn't meet his gaze. She had always refused… and he would never stop pushing her. "It won't be long before you're mine forever… once no one needs you anymore. Once you're well and truly gone from that world. Once every memory of your existence vanishes…

"Once they forget you. The Princess, the warrior… they will give their hearts to each other, and you will be forgotten for good."

A tear escaped Yue's cheeks: she might never be free again… but so long as they were, she would endure this nightmare and face the dark fate that swirled closer and closer around her, threatening to fulfill the dark promise of Oblivion.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

please please please more hockey cregan

Synopsis: You both agreed it was casual when you began this situationship with the Wolves’ hockey captain. It was exactly what you needed at the time. But, as time passes, it’s getting hard being a chill girl — because you're not. Every time you hear him tell people it’s nothing serious, it stings a little more. Because in your heart, it hasn’t felt casual for a while now

Three times Cregan tells people you’re not together, and one time he does

After weeks of waiting, my new modern!Cregan fic is here!! Sorry for the long wait. October was stressfull and busy (creating halloween content is fun but also exhausting!), and then my mom got bad health news and that turned my whole world upside down. I hope you'll like it <3 Please send more hockey au requests, i love writing them

Warnings: 18+, sexting (sort of), oral (f receiving), car sex, misunderstanding, men being clueless and blind

—

You: A little something so you think about me while on the ice 💕

You: [picture attached]

It was cruel, but you liked to tease Cregan before his games. Especially the away ones where he wouldn't be able to touch you after. Today, you went with a simple snap of your lace panties, the kind you knew made his dick painfully hard. 

Cregan: Fuck 🥵

More messages appeared on your screen. 

Cregan: Hate when you do shit like that 

Cregan: How am I supposed to be getting ready for the game?

Cregan: Little minx! 👿🖕🏻

You were tempted to send another picture, to push with the teasing. You could imagine Cregan in his bedroom, in his gray joggers, cursing as he felt his dick stiffen from the sight of your underwear. It was almost 5pm, and he needed to be at the arena an hour early for warm ups and some locker room talk. If he jerked off now, he would be in a time crunch for the arena. You didn’t want him to get in trouble. 

You: If you win tonight, I might let you take them off 

It was crazy to wear a skirt to a hockey game, but you didn’t think of the cold air of the arena when you got dressed. All that was on your mind was the after-game party at the hockey house…and Cregan’s delicious cock inside you. The Wolves were playing against the Lions tonight — easy win —, so he’ll still be full of energy after the game. In other words, tonight will be a long and fun night.  

‘’Aren’t you cold?’’ Rhaena’s eyes fell on your bare legs.

You shrugged. ‘’Nothing I can’t handle,’’ you brushed off. 

The reason you dressed like that was so you wouldn’t need to go back to your dorm to change. You could go straight to the party. At least you wore a sweater over your corset bra. You would get frostbites by exposing your nipples to the arena’s cold air. Not pleasant. Although Cregan probably wouldn’t mind warming them up with his tongue later. 

‘’You’re lucky Baela’s not here tonight,’’ Rhaena said, pulling you out of your naughty thoughts. ‘’She would have lectured you about the risks of getting sick and spiraled about how irresponsible it is to risk getting the whole campus sick. People will miss classes, possibly fail their trimester, and blah blah blah.’’ She laughed, perfectly imitating her sister’s softer voice with a tinge of scolding. ‘’Nursing school is getting to her.’’ 

Sweet Baela. You were curious how she’ll make it as a nurse if she continued being this stressed about sickness. It was sweet of her to care, but she really needed to relax. 

A group of girls came to your row and next to you. One of them had a hockey jersey on — a girlfriend, assumingly —, and the others were dressed casually. If you remember correctly, her name was Talisa. You gave her a smile, then turned your attention back to Rhaena. 

‘’How was your date with Luke? You never told me.’’

Judging by the smile on her face, it must have gone well. 

The hockey house was packed, the typical crowd buzzing after another one of the games. Players, friends, usual fans, and even people who didn’t go to the game came to bask in the afterglow of a win. It’s an ambiance no frat party can match. 

You walked through the crowd, expertly dodging a spilled beer incident as you searched for the Wolves’ captain. You saw some of the players around, shower-damp hair and a beer in their hands, so they must have begun to arrive at the house. 

While you waited, you busied yourself with a drink and sent Cregan a little teaser. 

You: Come find me 🍒💋

You: [video attached]

The video had been taken prior to the game. Just a short little video of you groping your tits, which were spilling at the top of your corset bra. 

Although he claimed to love all of your body, Cregan Stark was a breasts man. He liked to lay his head on them, suck on them — and come on them —, and to use them as stress balls. They fit perfectly in the palms of his hands. 

So, when you hit ‘send’, you knew he would search the house for you and drag you to his room. 

Standing in the kitchen in all his post-game glory, Cregan was laughing with his teammates like he didn’t have a care in the world. A joke about one of the rookies — they get teased a lot. His laughter came short when he opened your text, not expecting a fucking video. He held back a groan as he watched you play with your tits, wishing he had his hands on them right now.

Cregan must have been staring for too long because Ben peered over to his phone screen to see what had taken his captain’s attention. ‘’Ohh, nice tits! Who’s that?’’ 

Beside him, Jace took a look too. He whistled, agreeing with Ben.  

‘’Damn, is that your girl, Stark?’’ another teased, taking Cregan’s phone to get a better look and replaying the video again. 

Cregan shook his head, taking a sip of beer. ‘’Nah. It’s casual.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

‘’Did you see my bra?'' you asked as you walked around Cregan’s bedroom in your panties and one of his shirts, searching for the missing piece. ‘’I can’t find it.’’

Cregan, still lying in bed, barely lifted his head to glance around. ‘’Eh, no,’’ he muttered, too lazy to really help. 

You sighed, hands on your hips as you scanned the room. It had to be somewhere.

He pointed lazily toward his dresser. ‘’I think it’s by my gym bag, over there.’’  

You raised an eyebrow. His gym bag? How could it have ended there? 

You bent down and checked, pushing aside sneakers and a Wolves hoodie. ‘’Are you sure? Because I see no bra here.’’

‘’Search deeper, maybe you should see to get glasses,’’ he teased, a smirk playing across his mouth as his eyes stayed glued to your bent-over form, obviously enjoying the view more than helping you search.

‘’Cregan, it’s not there! Maybe you should get glasses,’’ you returned, your tone showing your patience was running thin. ‘’Are you fucking with me right now?’’ 

His laugh gave him away, and that’s when you realized what he was doing. 

You shot him a glare over your shoulder. ‘’You’re an ass.’’ You stood, his shirt covering your thighs again. ‘’And I thought you liked my tits better?’’

“I do.” Cregan smirked, leaning back into the pillows, arms behind his head. “But they’re covered right now, and your ass is right there in my line of sight. So I’m appreciating the view.”

Before you could shoot back a reply, his phone buzzed on the bedside table. His smirk faded as he reached over to grab it, glancing at the screen.

“Hi, Mom,” he said, voice dropping to a softer, more polite tone.

You, too focused on hunting down your missing bra, didn’t even notice the phone conversation. Where was that damn bra? You could go home without your bra — you had other ones — and free the nips on the way to your dorm, but it was your favorite and you needed it back. 

Finally, you spotted it half-hidden under the chair. “Got it!” you exclaimed, holding the bra up triumphantly. “It ended up under the chair. Probably wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t flung it across the room like an animal last night.’’ 

 You laughed, but it died on your lips when you heard a woman’s voice faintly from the phone. Cregan’s mom.

‘’Cregan, was that a girl I heard in the background?’’ her voice asked, clear enough in the now-quiet room. ‘’I didn't know you were not alone.''   

Cregan stiffened as he fumbled for an answer. ‘’Eh...''

‘’Bring her over for Thanksgiving next weekend,'' his mom cut in, excited.

‘’I don't think—''  

‘’Sara is coming with her girlfriend, the more the merrier!''

‘’She's not my girlfriend, Mom. She's just... She...'' 

‘’Oh. Got it,'' she replied, the awkwardness sinking in over the line.

You couldn’t believe he said that to his mother. He could have said you were a friend. It would have been discreet and more respectful to you. But no, he told her you were the girl he was taking to his bed when he needed to empty his balls. 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Panties pulled to the side, you had one of your feet on the dashboard while Cregan was knees deep in the passenger seat with his mouth on your cunt. A symphony of mewls and moans was slipping from your lips, your head thrown back against the headrest of the seat. Going to the backseat would have been a smartest idea, but it was filled up with hockey shit and unusable. 

To make more room, the passenger seat of the jeep was pushed as far as it would allow, but Cregan was tall and broad — it was simply impossible to make it comfortable for him. He didn’t seem to care that it was cramped and that he could barely move. All he cared about was watching and hearing you squirm from his tongue. 

You gripped his shoulder, fingernails digging through the thick material of his sweater, needing something to grip as he sucked on your clit and sent jolts of pleasure up your spine.

It’s crazy what a 9pm trip to get In-n-Out can lead up. The puck bunnies who hung around the team would throw knives at you if they knew where you had him right now…

‘’I’m close— Aah, please don’t stop.’’ You pushed your cunt against his face, as if it wasn’t glued to it already. ‘’If you stop I’ll fucking kill you, Stark.’’

Cregan was very tempted to stop just to mess with you — he took pleasure in that —, but instead kept going, his stubble scratching your inner thighs as he kept his head buried between them. 

The jeep's interior filled with the sounds of your ragged breathing and the wet, desperate noises of his mouth working against you. You felt the buildup, that white-hot tension coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, sending you tumbling over the edge. Your thighs trembled around his head, and your hips bucked uncontrollably as a loud moan escaped your lips. Cregan kept going, drawing out every last shudder, his tongue working you through the waves of pleasure until you were nearly limp in his hands.

He finally pulled back, a crooked grin curling on his lips as he looked up and slapped the crotch of your panties into place on your sensitive cunt. You winced and glared at him. Could he be a little more delicate? 

You watched as he opened the passenger door, getting out with comical difficulty. What was he expecting?

He moved to the driver side and turned on the car, swearing when he saw the time. ‘’Shit.’’ Cregan ran a hand through his hair, and searched for his phone, quickly typing a message to someone. ‘’Do you mind if we’re making a little detour on the way? I was supposed to pick Jace up, but we got…carried away and it completely slipped out of my mind. I’ll drop you off after.’’

Couldn’t he take a bus or an uber? You felt uncomfortable about someone other than Cregan seeing you like that — fucked out. You must be looking a mess with your panties going up your ass from being pulled to the side and your skirt all hiked up, face flushed from your orgasm. 

‘’Yeah. It’s fine,’’ you said with a forced smile, shifting on the seat to adjust your clothes and trying to regain some composure.

After a few minutes of driving, Cregan pulled up to the curb where Jace was waiting. He got in the Jeep, complaining about all the junk that was on the backseat while pushing it away to make space to sit. 

When he finally clicked his seatbelt, his eyes flickering over your disheveled form and messy hair with a raised brow. ‘’Were you two on a date or something?” he asked, his tone carrying a teasing edge, not minding his business. ‘’Because you both look a little messy over there.’’

You felt your heart rate pick up. Was this a date?  A date at a fast food place was not very romantic, but you couldn’t imagine Cregan taking a girl on a date at a fancy restaurant. It wasn’t him. He preferred simple things. 

But this was not a date. 

Maybe it’ll be one day.

Cregan rolled his eyes and shifted the Jeep back into drive. ‘’Shut up. We were not on a fucking date. We just got In-n-Out.’’

‘’And you didn’t take anything for me? I thought we were best friends, man…’’ Jace shook his head in disappointment.

The words stung, but it was his tone that hit deeper, as if the idea of a date with you was too absurd to even consider. It twisted something inside you, and you hated yourself for letting things drag on this long, pretending it was still casual when, in your heart, it hadn’t felt that way for a while now.

When you got to your dorm, you sent Cregan a text saying it was over between you. 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

''I don't want to be mean, but what were you expecting?'' Rhaena said, lounging on the couch beside you and Baela. Her tone was blunt, like she was stating the obvious, and it stung more than you cared to admit.

You had just finished telling them how you had called it off with Cregan — if you could call it that. 

''Rhaena!'' Baela shot her sister a sharp look.

Rhaena shrugged, unfazed. ''It's known that hockey players don't do girlfriends. Clearly, he didn’t want anything serious; he just wanted sex. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have stayed casual for so long.’’

You didn’t expect Rhaena to turn on Cregan so fast, but it was comforting to hear that she had your back.  

Baela shook her head, letting out a sigh. ‘’They're not all like that, Rhaena. Don't put everyone in the same basket. Cregan had a girlfriend for three years before college.''

Your brows shot up. A girlfriend?  

‘’How do you know that?’’ you asked, surprised. Cregan never mentioned any past relationships. 

‘’Alysanne told me,’’ Baela explained. ‘’She and Cregan used to go to high school together. Apparently, he had a tough time after the breakup and never had a girlfriend since.’’

That would explain why he never brought it up. Any why he was always correcting people when they assumed you were his girlfriend. Maybe that relationship scarred him so much he was scared of commitment now? 

Rhaena scoffed. ‘’So it’s a valid reason to treat Y/N like that?’’

Baela glared at her. It was not what she was trying to say. ‘’Of course not. I just think it’s best to try to understand the other person’s side before jumping to conclusion. Girls are not the only ones who can get hurt from relationships, guys too.’’ She turned to you. ‘’What did he say when you told him you had feelings?’’

You looked down at your lap. ‘’I…I never told him.’’ 

Unexpectedly, Baela hit your arm. 

‘’Why did you do that for?!’’ You rubbed the spot, frowning.

‘’For not telling him!’’ Baela said, exasperated. ‘’Guys are blind as hell. They don’t pick up signals. If you don’t tell them you like them, there’s chances they’ll never make a move.’’

You turned to Rhaena, who agreed with her sister about needing to be straightforward with guys. So, maybe the reason he corrected everyone was because he didn’t want them to get the wrong idea because this situationship was what you agreed on? 

And they dare say girls are complicated and confusing… 

‘’Well, that’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?’’ you concluded. ‘’Besides, if Cregan liked me, he would have said something when he got my text or called. He didn’t. Case closed.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

 The case was not closed.

A few days later, Cregan was in the living room of the hockey house, hunched over on the couch with a controller gripped tightly in his hands. He was playing Call of Duty with Jace and was sorely losing. Every time his character took a hit, he grunted and smashed the buttons like he was trying to punch a hole through them.

''If you break the controller, you buy a new one,'' Jace warned, not even looking up from his own controller.

Cregan rolled his eyes. ''I'm not gonna break the damn controller,’' he snapped.

''Could've fooled me," Jace shot back, a smirk across his face. "Smashing the buttons is not gonna help your game, bro.'' 

Cregan grunted in response, and just as he got his character back on his feet, he got taken out by a sniper. Again. The muscles in his jaw tightened. ‘’Bullshit," he muttered, slamming the controller onto his thigh. "This controller's definitely broken. Let's switch, Jace."

Jace snorted, still lounging on the floor with his back against the coffee table. "Your controller's not broken, you’re just shit." He looked over at Cregan, who was glaring at the screen like it had personally offended him.

‘’Or, maybe our captain is sexually frustrated,’’ Ben chimed in as he wandered in from the kitchen, a bag of flamin’ Cheetos in hand. He plopped onto the couch next to Cregan, crunching loudly. ‘’You've been playing shit on the ice too, and you’re irritable.’’

Cregan shot him a look. ‘’I’m not—’’ 

‘’He got dumped by his girl, Ben,’’ Jace interrupted. ‘’So little Cregan’s getting lonely.’’ 

‘’First off, she was not my girlfriend,’’ Cregan said, setting the record straight — again. ‘’How many times did I tell you that? And second, don’t call my dick that. Actually, don’t call it anything.’’ 

Ben laughed. ‘’We should make you a Tinder profile so you can find a girl to fuck tonight or tomorrow, and we can have our captain back just in time for Friday’s game. What do you say, Jace?’’ 

Jace grinned, picking up on Ben's suggestion right away. "I’ll even help you with the bio, Cregan. How about, ‘Hockey captain, terrible at video games, but makes up for it in other areas’?’’

Cregan groaned, tossing a cushion at him. ‘’Fuck off. I don’t need a Tinder profile.’’ 

‘’But you do need to get laid,’’ Ben reminded, eating some more Cheetos. ‘’Why don’t you call that girl with the nice tits? You know, the one who sent you dirty pictures the other day?’’ 

His question was answered with the darkest glare.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The Wolves broke their winning streak since you called it off and lost every game. According to the whispers on campus, Cregan’s head was not on the ice. 

Baela tried to convince you that it was because he was thinking of you, but you laughed and told her she was ridiculous. If Cregan was thinking about you, he would have called. 

It wasn’t until the first fall of snow that you got a text from him, asking to come by the house to pick up a few things he had found in his room. Nothing worth going seemed to be missing, but you went anyway. 

The house was quiet when you got there. Robb let you in and said Cregan was upstairs. The door was open, but you still knocked on the doorframe, announcing your presence. Cregan turned, and you had to fight the smile from your lips. It’s been a while since you last saw him — you missed him. 

He greeted you with a hug, which you accepted. It was a brief but warm embrace, the scent of his pine cologne faint, yet familiar.

As he pulled back, you saw he was wearing shorts and a hoodie, a strange combo for late November. 

‘’Thanks for coming,’’ Cregan said, not really knowing what to say. 

‘’Well, you said you had some of my things,’’ you replied softly. The silence that filled the space was a tad uncomfortable, and you shifted your weight on your feet.

He nodded, remembering why you were there in the first place, and grabbed a bag — which contained your things. Cregan handed the bag to you, and as you took it, your fingers brushed lightly. A brief moment of contact, that sent a subtle spark through your fingertips.

The bag was light. Probably just a thong or two, and maybe a hair scrunchie. ‘’Is that everything?’’ 

He nodded again, but before you could turn on your heels and leave, Cregan stopped you. ‘’Actually, there's something else," he said slowly, his hand moving to rub nervously at the back of his neck. ‘’Can we sit down for a minute?"

You were momentarily thrown off by the request, but nodded nonetheless and took a seat on the edge of his bed, while Cregan sat beside you, leaving a small gap between the two of you. The last time you sat on that bed, Cregan’s cock was deep inside you and you were clutching his sheets.

‘’I want to apologize for how I treated you when we were…together-but-not-together,’’ Cregan began, snapping you out of your dirty thoughts. ‘’I didn’t realize I was hurting you when I was correcting people. I was just making sure people wouldn’t label us something we were not. I’ve never been with a girl outside a relationship before, so this was completely new to me. I didn’t know the dos and the don'ts, or how it worked…other than the having sex part.’’ He let out a dry laugh, then continued. ‘’I know it’s not an excuse. What I’m trying to say is, I truly didn’t mean to make you feel unworthy.’’ 

You listened as Cregan admitted his mistakes, and fidgeted with the hem of your sweater’s sleeve to keep your hands busy — to stop yourself from reaching for him. He hadn’t intended to hurt you, his lack of experience in situationships had gotten in the way. 

His words hung in the air, and you could hear he was struggling to find the right words. It didn't feel rehearsed, he was genuinely apologizing and opening to you. Cregan was never one to lay himself bare like this. Feelings were not something he often discussed.

‘’If anyone is unworthy, it’s me. You’ve always been kind to me, even when I treated you poorly in your face.’’

You took a slow breath, steadying yourself. ‘’It’s okay, Cregan. What’s past is past.’’ 

He shook his head. ‘’No. It's not okay.’’

‘’We both agreed it was casual. I should have known better than to expect anything serious…’’

‘’What if I want something serious too?’’ 

You raised your head toward him, meeting his gaze for the first time in weeks. 

‘’I didn’t ask you to come over just so you could pick your things up,’’ he admitted, his voice low. ‘’It was an excuse to talk to you, to see you…and hopefully fix what’s between us.’’ His hand inched a bit closer to yours on the bed, like he was considering reaching for you but hesitated. ‘’Being away from you made me realize what you meant to me and how important it was having you in my life, close to me. I miss your perfume lingering on my sheets and seeing your face in the stands cheering for me. I miss the way you feel in my arms. I miss hearing your voice, teasing me and making me laugh — I haven't laughed properly in weeks.’’ Cregan’s eyes were fixed on your face as he spoke, studying your reaction.

It was rare that you were speechless, but you truly didn’t know what to say. You came here to pick up a few personal items, and ended up listening to Cregan apologizing and confessing his feelings to you.

So you decided to make him laugh. ‘’I have to agree, your sheets do smell better after I’ve been in them. My expensive perfume doesn’t smell like sweaty balls.’’

Cregan cracked a smile, his eyes flashing with amusement. ‘’My sheets does not smell like sweaty balls.’’ 

They didn’t. 

‘’But they do smell better when you’re there,’’ he added, his voice low and his eyes never leaving yours. 

You tried to resist his charm and him, but he was just too good at working his way back into your good graces. With that irresistible northern accent, he’d flirt his way out of anything, his words always smooth and a little too convincing. And when he looked at you with those soft, pleading eyes and that crooked, boyish smile… Staying mad wasn’t exactly an option.

You leaned to kiss him, but before your lips could touch, Jace’s voice came from the hallway, asking Cregan about getting food. 

‘’Oh, Sorry. I didn’t know you had a girl over,’’ he said, pausing in the doorway when he spotted the two of you. It was clear he’d interrupted something, hence why he apologized.

‘’No just a girl. My girl,’’ Cregan corrected, making you smile.

—

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[tightjeansjavi]

♡ And They Were Roommates ♡

chapter 1 : The Guard Dog

Pairing | Joel Miller x Logan Howlett x f!reader

A/N: this chapter got away from me so fast, but I’m really pleased with how it turned out! After seeing Deadpool & Wolverine for the first time a couple weeks ago, I immediately re-entered my marvel phase and rewatched both Deadpool movies and all of the x-men/wolverine movies (yes, it’s an obsession) the Wolverine was always one of my favorite marvel characters outside of Deadpool and Iron Man. I’m so happy that myself and others are taking the leap to write for him and other characters 🥹 I hope you all enjoy this mini series! I’m super excited for it 💗 comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you @sinsofsummers for betaing and letting me yap at u! And thank u @syd-djarin for also letting me yap 🥰

word count: 8.8k

Summary: after saving the world with Wade, Logan finds himself in a new, strange world. Human life is scarce, (as far as he can see). There’s weird looking mushroom-headed fucks, and he doesn’t have a clue what year it is, either. After traveling aimlessly for months, the Wolverine runs into you, and your guard dog of a boyfriend, Joel Miller.

Warnings: mature themes, smut, implied age gap, brief mention of a gunshot wound, touch of angst, language, derogatory comments about mutants (by Joel) alcohol consumption, brief mention of ouid, pining, hints of a throuple/love triangle, voyeurism (sorta) this Logan is the ‘worst’ variant, but you can picture him however you’d like!, reader has no physical descriptions (I imagine her to be short, but she is a blank slate) +18, minors dni!

series masterlist

If someone had told you before the outbreak that in 20ish years, (math is not my strong suit, sorry) you would be living the life of “luxury” with not only one guard dog as a boyfriend, but two who also were boyfriends, you would have laughed in that person's face and told them that they were in fact insane—but now? Now you wouldn’t even question it. Your life in Jackson before meeting Joel Miller and Logan Howlett was the closest thing to normalcy that you had experienced since the outbreak. You had a home again, a job, and a purpose. But like all things, you were craving more; something new and exciting. Instead of you finding it, Joel Miller found you—or was it the other way around?

He was old fashioned in every sense. Insisting on properly pursuing you after you caught his eye at the corner of the bartop of the tipsy bison. Your care-free spirit and intoxicating aroma had his mind reeling at the thoughts of what he could be doing to you if it was just the two of you in the Bison, all alone with no distractions or disturbances.

He hadn’t thought about women, or sex, or settling down with someone in over 20 years. But here you were, throwing back another shot of whiskey and subconsciously unnerving him further without having any idea as to what it was that you were doing to him.

You were, however, aware that he was watching you, carefully between his harsh swigs from the glass that was perfectly perched in one of his meaty palms.

Mr. New and Exciting is right there. What are you waiting for? Your mind pointed out the obvious as if there was a flashing arrow right above the man’s head of thick, salt and peppered streaked curls that you were dying to run your fingers through.

You downed the remaining contents of your glass for that extra boost of liquid courage and made your move before he could even properly execute his own plan to approach you.

He stiffened, jaw ticking when he felt the bare heat from your arm brush against his own, sending sparks shooting down his forearm all the way down to where his large hand was tightly gripping the glass.

“I’m here to break the ice between us, stranger. Y’know, considering you’ve been staring at me for the past…hour.”

“Excuse me?” He scoffed, bringing the rim of his glass up to his lips for a moment. “Think you oughta get your eyes checked out first before ya start makin’ accusations.” He grumbled, low and deep. His eyes flickered in your direction, brows furrowed together across his forehead in a harsh line.

“Think my eyes are working just fine, thank you very much.”

He tore his harsh gaze away from your face and focused his attention on the mounted moose head on the wall instead. “Buzz off, darlin’. I ain’t lookin’ for conversation.” He snarled and went to slide off the worn down seat, but he was frozen in his spot when your hand wrapped around his bulging bicep, and he felt like a leashed, obedient dog.

“You think I’m here to talk?” You laughed and he immediately felt a hot flush rise from his neck and creep up his face at your brash confidence.

“Ain’t that what most women want nowadays?” He countered your boldness with a gravelly chuckle that sent warmth immediately spreading across your entire body at the scratchy, deep, sound that emitted from his throat.

“Lucky for you, I’m not like most women. Now, how about instead of eye fucking me from across the bar, why don’t we skip the small talk and you take me home instead?” You said with a coy smile and a suggestive tilt of your chin. You loosened your grip around his bicep only to then drag your fingers down the expanse of his arm, watching the muscles there subtly flex from your featherlight touch.

He weighed out his options, glancing around the crowded bar, leaning in close to crowd your personal space entirely. His eyes flickered down towards your lips, and then his heedy gaze met your own almost in a challenge.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, darlin.’” He rasped, reaching for your hand.

And only when you found yourself with your back pressed against Joel Miller’s front door, and his lips attacking your own, did he finally tell you his name between bruising kisses and wandering hands.

And well, the rest is history.

~~

Your arrangement with Joel worked flawlessly for an entire year, and while you both were content without having any labels, being known as Joel Miller’s girl never failed to make your heart melt, and he fucking turned into a goddamn puddle on the floor anytime he got to hear refer to him as your boyfriend.

Life truly could not have gotten better for either of you, but it certainly could get worse in Joel’s case of repeated misfortune. That misfortune being Logan Howlett, the last standing mutant to exist in this universe and now the bane of Joel’s existence.

“What in the fuck are those things comin’ out of your hands?!” A very angry, cold, and bewildered Joel Miller barked over the metallic click of the Wolverine's claws being unsheathed between his knuckles.

“Ya got two workin’ eyes, don’t ya, pal? The fuck do they look like to you?!” The stranger growled, advancing towards the other man.

“Joel?!” Another man’s voice was heard in the distance, followed by thundering hooves and a sharp whinny.

“I got this handled, Tommy!” The other man snapped when Tommy rode up beside him, immediately hopping down from the saddle with his rifle at the ready at the immediate threat in front of them.

Logan was able to quickly piece together with limited information that these two men were brothers, just based on their similar looks and mannerisms.

“Listen, boys, if I was you, I’d lower them guns and pretend that ya never crossed paths with me.”

“Are those fuckin’ knives coming out of his fists?!” Tommy Miller whispered to his brother who nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, he’s some mutant freak. Somethin’ FEDRA musta cooked up.” Joel responded in an equally hushed whisper.

Logan swiftly turned his head to the side, an audible cracking sound in his neck could be heard through the chilling evening air. “You’re really gonna regret callin’ me that, bub.” He snarled, barring his teeth like a rabid dog and advanced forward with full intent to slash his claws through the other man’s chest.

Joel’s reflexes were surprisingly fast even in his age, and when Logan advanced forward, he pulled the trigger on his own rifle, the shot ringing through and startling a flock of birds in a nearby tree, sending them flying upwards towards the sky in a haphazardly direction, squawking loudly.

The bullet hit Logan square in the chest, but the Wolverine barely even staggered backwards from the force of the bullet, and he let out an animalistic, nothing-short-of-pissed-off growl while the two men a short distance away had equal looks of horror on their faces when Logan’s body began to push the embedded bullet out from his chest and heal the once open wound.

The single bullet landed in the snow beneath Logan’s boots just as a high pitched whistle could be detected in the distance.

“What the actual fuck…his body can regenerate itself?!” Tommy whispered to his brother in disbelief.

Joel ignored him and raised his rifle towards the Wolverine again, thumb hovering over the trigger when you appeared on your horse through the snowy cluster of evergreens.

“JOEL! HOLD YOUR FIRE!” You demanded and swung your leg over the saddle, landing on the ground without fault and quickly inserted yourself between the Miller Brother’s and the seething Wolverine with your hands lifted in the air above your head.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?!” Joel diverted his attention to you and your untimely arrival. “Get behind me! We don’t know who or what the fuck this guy is, and he’s clearly dangerous!”

“Listen to your girl, bub. Lower your fuckin’ gun and jus’ let me pass, and we can forget this whole thing fuckin’ happened!” Logan yelled over your shoulder, nostrils flaring and muscles flexing with unbridled rage.

“Will you both just shut the fuck up?!” You snarled in frustration and glared over your shoulder at your unpredictable boyfriend. Let’s all just lower our weapons and take some deep, calming, breaths.”

“Un-fuckin’ believable.” The Wolverine scoffed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at your assertiveness.

Joel and Tommy both slowly and very reluctantly lowered their rifles towards the ground, but the Wolverine’s extended metal claws did not retract at your demand.

“That includes you too, knives.”

Logan couldn’t help but smirk at your choice of nickname given the current circumstances. Man, you had some bigger balls than your boyfriend, that was for damn sure.

“Say it to me a little more gently, sweetheart. Your boyfriend over there got me all riled up, and I jus’ really wanna slash him to bits right now.” He cooed, smirk only then expanding into a wide, toothy grin at both your reaction, and Joel’s.

“Hey! Don’t you fuckin’ talk to her, you—”

“Alright, boys!” You hissed and turned your back so it was fully facing Joel. “Now, this ain’t some contest to see who has the bigger cock, alright? Looks like y’all got off on the wrong foot…clearly.” You stated the obvious.

“Yeah, and I was just passin’ through the area when your boyfriend and I unfortunately crossed paths.” He said gruffly, hackles raised in irritation.

“You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend, he can be trigger happy at times, but within reason. So, let’s start this whole thing over, alright?”

“Think we should just send this freak on his way—”

“JOEL!” You and Tommy whispered loudly in unison.

“Maybe you oughta put a muzzle on that one. Seems like he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut.” Logan snickered.

“Yeah, don’t worry about him, alright? He’ll get muzzled later. So, uh—where exactly are you headed…?” You questioned him warily, realizing that you still didn’t know this mysterious man’s name.

As if he was capable of reading your mind, he could tell by your facial expressions and body language alone that you were wondering what his name was.

“It’s Logan.” He answered your hypothetical question softly, far softer than he had spoken to Joel. “Logan Howlett. That’s my name. And to answer your question, I’m not headed anywhere in particular. Like I said, jus’ was passin’ through the area. Not lookin’ for trouble.” He lowered his fists to his sides, claws finally retracting into his knuckles, the skin healing over instantly.

“Logan.” You repeated his name just as softly. “I understand that you were just passing through, but unfortunately, we can’t just let people pass through without stopping them and questioning them.”

“Yeah, well, don’t think your boyfriend had any intention of just questioning me, sweetheart. S’a good thing that you arrived jus’ in time, cause the way that I see it…” he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and cockily tilted his head to the side, “you wouldn’t have a boyfriend anymore, and woulda been bringing what’s left of him back home in pieces.”

Joel’s muscles went rigid and his eyes darkened, appearing like two black holes instead of the comforting warm brown tone that you were accustomed to. He shook off Tommy’s hand immediately when he went to grab his shoulder to drag him away from the intense brewing situation.

You let out a sigh, rubbing your temples with your gloved fingers. Fucking men and their big dicks and even bigger egos. Un-fucking-believable.

“That is quite enough!” You snapped through the frigid air. “Tommy, please be a doll and escort your brother back to town. I can handle this on my own.”

“Like hell—”

“She’s got this handled, Joel. She’s more than capable. If she ain’t back within the next hour, we’ll come back.” Tommy reassured him with a gentle, yet firm squeeze to his shoulder.

“Fine.” Joel muttered under his breath, pulling his shoulder free again and took a few steps towards you. “See you at home, baby.” He whispered only for your ears to hear and pulled you in for a swift kiss on the lips.

Logan couldn’t help but let out a low wolf whistle at the sight. Fair play. He mused to himself.

“Yeah, see you at home.” You mumbled against his lips, kissing him back and gently shoving him away towards the direction of Tommy and their awaiting horses.

“That’s some guard dog of a boyfriend that you got yourself there, darlin’,” Logan said in amusement, unsheathing his middle claw in Joel’s direction with a condescending and dripping in arrogance grin.

“You have no idea.” You said with a light laugh, turning on your heel to face him again. “So, you’re just passing through the area, right?”

His middle claw retracted slowly with a clink, and he crossed his broad arms against his chest with a tight nod of his head. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Are you infected?”

“The fuck—infected? I don’t got a goddamn clue what you’re talkin’ about, sweetheart.”

“Y’know, the cordyceps infection? The outbreak happened like…twenty somethin’ years ago, but there’s still infected roaming about.”

“Huh.” He chuckled softly, balancing his weight from one foot to the other. “That would explain the lack of humans that I’ve run into lately. This earth seems pretty damn scarce.”

“This…earth? I don’t think I quite pick up what you’re putting down, Logan.”

He pushed out a deep sigh and slowly dragged a hand over his face. “Don’t even get me started.”

“Alright, and your claws…have you always had them?”

He steeled his expression, lips curving downwards into a subtle frown, and his body language alone was an indication that you crossed an invisible boundary.

“Since I was a kid, yes.” He flexed his hands and stared at them as if they weren’t attached to his body. “Used to be less…metal.”

“And what about the fact that your body can regenerate itself and heal? Is that…part of your mutation?” You gestured to the bullet laying in the snow by his boots, still stained with his blood, and yet there was no sign of a wound in his chest any longer.

“Yeah. I still…feel physical pain like everyone else, but it only lasts for a second at most. Well, depending on the severity of the wound, and how many I sustained.”

A hidden flush rose up his cheeks and he coughed into his shoulder to hide his bashfulness from your prying eyes. He gave you a disgruntled look, nodding in an attempt to be polite, but it came out gruffer than he intended. “The hell is FEDRA?”

It was your turn to feel flustered beneath his stare, and stoic demeanor. You almost didn’t notice the way you spewed out the facts, familiar to you like the back of your own hand.

He inclined his head, but looked back up and narrowed his eyes. “And these…infected? They used to say that about us—I mean, me. What’s the difference?”

You tried not to look so shocked at his confessions of ignorance, and somehow managed to blurt out an explanation.

“Oh, those mushroom head lookin’ freaks? Yeah, I’ve run into them a few times here and there, but they all run away from me.” He shrugged. “What in god's green earth is a rat king?”

Your eyes widened drastically. You had never heard of such a thing. “You’re telling me that the infected run away from you? There’s no way—I mean, that’s a first. The rat king is…never mind. Let’s just hope you don’t meet one.”

“Might have somethin’ to do with the Adamantium is my guess. Gotta say, they’re pretty nasty lookin’.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You snorted under your breath. “Look, Joel is probably gonna kill me, but given the current circumstances…do you want to come back to town with me? You’re a long way from wherever you came from, and well, you look like you could use some rest and a proper meal.” You knew with full intent that offering Logan to come back to Jackson with you was risky for a multitude of reasons, and the biggest reason was knowing that Joel was gonna throw a fucking fit.

“I don’t think your boyfriend would really like that idea, sweetheart.” He said with a sigh, picturing what the next few months would be like in total isolation, with no reprieve or end.

“He’ll give me an earful about it, but morally, I can’t just leave you out here alone. So, are you capable of riding a horse?” You gestured with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of your horse impatiently pawing at the snow.

“I suppose a bit of hospitality doesn’t sound all that bad. Y’all got liquor? Could use me a stiff drink about now. And yeah, I know a thing or two about riding.”

Oh.

“We got more than just liquor, Logan.” You leaned in with a small grin, “we got a bar, bacon, and endless whiskey that has since been perfected by Joel’s brother, Tommy. He’s the more reasonable one out of the pair.”

“Shit. Are ya serious? Bacon and whiskey?” His mouth was already watering at the phantom taste of liquor on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a damn good drink.

“Deadly serious.”

“Well then, lead the way.” He nodded in your horse's direction.

You made the choice to stay in the front of the saddle while Logan situated himself on the back and instinctively wrapped his arms around you. “Sorry.” He whispered when he felt your body tense up in his loose grip. “Old habits.”

“S’alright. I just wasn’t expecting it is all.” You tighten your grip around the leather reins, squeezing your calves against the horse's side followed by a gentle click of your tongue to urge the horse into a trot.

The ride back to Jackson was a comfortably quiet one, and it was obvious that Logan wasn’t much of a small talker, and you were more than okay with that.

The only sound between you and him was the occasional squeak of the saddle, a soft snort from your horse, and the thundering hooves across the almost frozen landscape. You slowed to a lope, reaching behind you blindly into the saddlebag and grabbed a white flag, raising it in the air above your head.

The large, looming gates that protected Jackson from outside forces were suddenly pulled open, revealing the hidden community inside and Logan was completely awestruck.

You looked over your shoulder to see his reaction, and you couldn’t help the smile that slowly crossed over your lips at the sight of this brutish, and conflicted man, almost with tears in his eyes because he was seeing what remained of civilization and humanity at the core.

~~

To say that Joel was pissed when you showed up with that fucking mutant freak outside his front door was an understatement. Joel was livid—furious—charged up with rage the second he locked eyes with Logan.

“You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. You brought him home?!” Joel hissed between his teeth, almost trembling from how riled up he was.

Man, imagine if this fucker was unfortunate enough to meet Wade fucking Wilson. Logan thought to himself, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath at the mental image of Joel meeting Deadpool for the first time. What a sight that would be.

“Joel, I know you’re angry, and rightfully so, but he’s not infected, and it felt morally wrong for me to just leave him out there on his own.”

“Oh, so I guess we just fuckin’ take in strays now? Is that it? Y’know, you’re supposed to run these things by me first before you just do something irrationally stupid like this!” He hissed.

“Ellie was a stray, and you took her in. I see no difference in this, Joel.” You attempted to reason with him.

“Who’s Ellie?” Logan chimed in, leaned against the entryway with his arms crossed over his chest like he owned the damn place.

“None of your goddamn business, bud.” Joel snapped back quickly, his words cold and biting, but they had no effect on the Wolverine.

“Ellie is his kid. Well, his adopted daughter. Actually, wolvie, she’d lose her goddamn mind if she got to meet a real superhero like you.”

“Not a chance in hell. This—thing isn’t staying here, and he sure as fuck ain’t meetin’ my kid.”

“Ah, so we’ve gone from mutant freak to thing? I’ll take that as an improvement.” Logan snickered under his breath. “I ain't a hero. Far from it actually, so she would unfortunately be met with disappointment.”

“Okay, well, unfortunately, you aren’t the only one who calls the shots around here, Joel. Now, I promised Logan that I would get him a proper meal and a stiff drink. So, either suck it the fuck up and come with us, or stay here and pout like a little kid.”

Damn.

“I hate when you act like you got the bigger set of balls in the relationship, baby.” Joel grumbled under his breath and was already reaching for his discarded coat that was hanging along the well-loved couch.

“Actually, I do have the bigger set of balls, hun. You just need a little gentle reminder now and then.” You shot him a playful wink and pivoted on your heel just as Logan quickly moved out of the way so you could pass through the doorway.

Joel gave the other man a cold stare as he passed him, one that was returned with an acknowledging nod and a small grin before the door swung shut behind the three of you.

Logan had five straight glasses of whiskey in under 20 minutes, leaving you, Joel, and Tommy equally impressed and a tad concerned considering a normal man would surely be on his ass by now after consuming that much liquor in one sitting, but Logan didn’t even appear to be tipsy at all.

“Wanted to apologize to you fellas for how things went down earlier.” Logan announced over the loud chatter and leaned in over the bartop where Tommy was drying off a glass and Joel was swirling the amber contents of his own glass, lost in thought.

“No hard feelings, man.” Tommy was the first to speak up. “I’m sure she told ya why we acted that way in the first place, yeah? We get all kinds of folks crossin’ our paths on patrol, and as long as they ain’t infected, or appearing to be an immediate threat, we let ‘em in.”

“Well, apparently those who appear to be an immediate threat surpass the rules and get let in anyway.” Joel added, tone dripping in sarcasm over the rim of his glass against his lips.

Logan stiffened, jaw clenching and unclenching and he could feel the concealed claws beneath the skin on his knuckles just begging to be unleashed, but he held them at bay.

“I get it, bub. You’re viewing me as a threat, ain’t that right? I show up in your town as a stranger, an outcast with your girl, and you got your hackles raised like a goddamn guardog. Well, I can assure you that I’m not a threat. Learned the hard way a long time ago to not impose on another man’s relationship.”

“As if I’m gonna trust your word?” Joel scoffed, rolling his shoulders forward before he directly looked over at the other man. “I ain’t gonna win a fight with her on this one, but if I even catch a whiff of you tryin’ somethin’ on her, I’ll kick you out so goddamn fast.”

“Noted. Although, I think I’ll stick around for the time being. If your ego wasn’t so inflated, you would probably realize that keepin’ me around is gonna benefit you and this community.”

“Benefit me how exactly? If you’re talkin’ weapons, we don’t need your assistance there. We’re stacked with enough manpower in case there ever was an attack. No one’s got the balls to do that.”

"Like, adamantium.” Your voice floated sweetly over the two brooding men, as you slid into the empty seat between them. “Not only that, but the infected literally turn the other way when he’s crossed paths with them, and oh, let’s not forget that one of his mutation powers is that he can regenerate and heal himself which means he’s pretty much immortal.”

Joel’s face turned red hot with embarrassment with a twinge of irritation. He downed the rest of his glass and slammed it on the counter. He barked an order at his brother to top his glass off. “Bullshit.”

“Would be a shitty lie.” Logan rasped, sliding his empty glass in Tommy’s direction. “I’m older than you, bub.”

“I think I’ve had enough of fantasyland for one fuckin’ day. Adamantium this, mutation that, fucking knives coming out of your hands? Yeah, sure. Older than me? Fat fuckin’ chance, pal.” Joel scoffed, shaking his head and muttering more profanities under his breath.

“He’s like…at least a century old, Joel. If not older.”

“Who is at least a century old?” Ellie chimed in next to Joel as she leaned over the bartop. “Uncle Tommy, can you pour me a beer, pretty please?”

“Ellie.” Joel grumbled, “shouldn’t you be at home doin’ homework?”

Ah, so that’s the old man’s kid. Fitting.

“Dude, it’s the weekend, and I already finished my homework. Dina and I are goin’ to the movies later, but she’s at home freshening up.” Ellie reached over to mess up his hair, but Joel already knew what she was about to do and gently caught her wrist in his hand before she could even get close to his hair.

“The movies?” Logan's question immediately drew Ellie’s attention as Joel dropped her wrist.

“Never seen your face around here before. You new to town?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Logan shrugged. “You're Joel’s kid then?”

“The one and only.” She beamed proudly while Joel scowled. “Wait, so who is at least a century old? I know we’re not talking about you, dad. But you are getting up there. Is that another gray hair I’m detecting? Soon you’re gonna be wearing diapers—” her playful rambling was cut off by Joel’s sharp and scolding tone cutting through the air like a sharpened knife.

“ELLIE!” He half yelled, cheeks inflamed and face turning and even brighter shade of red.

“I’m only kidding! Well, half kidding! One day you will be wearing diapers, old man.”

Logan laughed, a full on, belly-ache inducing laugh where the corner of his eyes crinkled and his smile lines appeared. “Holy shit. Your kid’s a riot!”

“I’ve been telling him that forever, and he just won’t admit it!” She giggled and gently wrapped her arm around Joel’s shoulder to give him a half hug to which he begrudgingly hugged her back, trying to hide his small grin from being noticed.

“You remind me a lot of…well, an old friend of sorts.” Logan looked down.

Ellie finally found her chance to ruffle Joel’s and seized it before he could stop her. “What was the name of your friend? I’m assuming he’s dead, so rest in peace.”

“Ellie!” Joel softly scolded her, “it’s rude to assume that someone died—”

“Wade Wilson.” Logan said softly, staring down at his empty glass with a sigh.

Ellie’s eyes expanded, blown wide in shock and utter disbelief. She was a comic book nerd, and well—a nerd in general. Perhaps it was just sheer coincidence that this stranger knew a Wade Wilson. Surely, it couldn’t be the Wade Wilson that she immediately was thinking of, right?

“Holy fuck. Please don’t crush my dreams and tell me that I’m wrong, but are you talking about the Wade Wilson as in Deadpool? Dude—are you an Avenger?” Ellie leaned over the bartop in Logan’s direction, voice low in a hushed whisper.

“Kid, I’m the furthest thing from an Avenger.” He said quietly, sinking his weight back against the bartop stool. “But I did know Wade pretty well. The fucker is probably alive, somewhere. He’s like a cockroach that you can never kill.”

“Okay, but if you’re not an Avenger…then what are you?”

“I was an X-Man at one point, but they’re all dead now—because of me.”

“Oh my god, are you—you’re the Wolverine, aren’t you? What in the fuck are you doing here? Is this real life? Someone pinch me right now, because there is no way that Logan fucking Howlett is here in the flesh! Dude, can you show me your claws?!” Ellie asked excitedly and it was Joel’s job to rein her in a bit.

“Alright, kiddo. That’s enough questions, alright? Don’t wanna go and overwhelm him. He can show you his…claws another time. Last thing we want is all these people freaking out and screaming bloody murder, right?” Joel said softly to her in his usual dad tone.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Sorry about that, Logan. I’m just like—a huge fan of you and the comics. I actually still can’t wrap my head around the fact that this is real life. Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. Hope you stick around!” She said sincerely before swiping up her glass of beer that was waiting for her and walked away to a different section of the crowded bar.

“Sorry about my kid. She is a huge fan, and definitely meant no harm by freaking out like that. I hope she wasn’t too invasive.”

“S’alright. There’s no harm done.” Logan reassured him.

Joel tapped his knuckles along the bartop, looking over at his brother first who was now at the other end of the bartop where his wife Maria was sitting. And then he looked at you and finally Logan. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot earlier today and I’m sorry about that. If you don’t got nowhere to go, you should consider staying in town. Sounds like you could be useful, like you said, and my kid would probably kill me if I kicked the Wolverine out for no good reason.”

“I don’t wanna impose, I swear. My plan was to just have a bite to eat and a few drinks and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Logan.” You finally spoke, “you should stay. There’s plenty of room for you here. We’ll have to figure out living arrangements, but in the meantime, you can sleep on our couch?”

The Wolverine’s warm hazel eyes slowly flitted over to you, a soft smile gracing his face before he glanced over at your boyfriend whose jaw was beginning to tick, again.

“Only if your guard dog is alright with that arrangement, sweetheart.”

Joel took a deep breath and released the built up tension that he felt in his shoulders. “The couch is all yours, Logan. We’ll get you out on patrol starting next week. You’ll fit right in.”

And boy, did he fit in.

~~

Logan did more than just fit in, he added a new welcoming dynamic to Jackson and he was an absolute hit with the kids both old and young. (He may or may not have smoked weed with Ellie, Dina and Jesse one night, but no one will ever know the truth)

He looked forward to being on patrol with Joel and Tommy every single day, (sometimes in the evenings). Having a purpose in his life again made him feel complete, and there was that extra perk of getting to kill people—bad guys, every now and then. Logan took numerous bullets for both Miller brothers and he felt this swelling sense of pride in his heart when Joel would go out of his way to tell him that he did a good job out there and sometimes there was even a firm, lingering pat on his shoulder followed by a, thanks for keeping the town safe, Logan. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.

Logan liked to hear those words from Joel’s mouth more than he was willing to admit. Almost as much as he liked coming home to you at the end of the very long and grueling day. Despite his promise to Joel that he wouldn’t try anything on you, he felt that there was nothing wrong with developing a harmless crush on both of his roommates, right?

Well, lucky for the Wolverine, you were beginning to fall down that rabbit hole, too. Especially when Logan would strut around the house shirtless in the mornings while you were getting ready for your day at the barn, ripped abs, resembling glossy freshly baked rolls were on full display paired with that knee-weakening smile that appeared over the rim of his steaming mug of coffee. He’d even accompany you to the barn, spending time with you and the horses till he would saddle up for patrol.

“Joel.” You whispered through the darkness in your shared bedroom.

“This better be goddamn important.” He grumbled tiredly, rolling over so he was facing you and draped his arm across your bare waist, tugging you into his chest so he could pepper your face with affectionate, sleepy kisses. “Thought you said you were too tired for round three, baby.” He drawled against your ear, playfully nipping at the lobe with his teeth.

“Baby, I promise you it’s super important.” You pressed a kiss to the sliver of exposed skin on his neck, throwing your thigh over his hip so if he wanted to, he could slip right into your silky, enticing warmth with ease.

“Mmm. Alright then. Spit it out. What’s on your mind, pretty girl.” He hummed against your skin, rolling his hips languidly into yours, a small grunt slipped past his lips when the head of his cock brushed through your slick folds and dragged upwards across your still sensitive clit.

“Y—you have to promise that you won’t get mad at me, okay?” You gasped softly, biting down on the juncture where his jaw met his neck.

“Baby, if you don’t fuckin’ spit it out right now, I’ll just have to fuck it out of ya.” He said through gritted teeth, reaching between your bodies with his freehand so he could grasp the base of his cock with ease and slowly feed himself into your warm, wet, enveloping walls with zero resistance.

“I want to fuck Logan.” You finally spit it out, waiting for your partner to scold you, but he did the complete opposite and bucked his hips against yours so he was completely bottomed out, stretching you open the same way he did a couple hours ago. “Yeah.” He gruffed out, finally finding your lips in a searing kiss, “know you do.”

Just down the stairs, lounged out on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand and tv remote in the other, Logan was trying his best to distract his brain from what he was hearing upstairs (damn his heightened sense of hearing). For the past 20 minutes he had been listening to you and Joel getting it on, and now he was dealing with a small problem—a rather large problem, actually. That problem being that the crotch section of his jeans were becoming unbearably tight, and even after he popped the button and yanked the zipper down, that wasn’t enough relief.

He let out a frustrated growl, throwing his head back against the couch and brought his freehand up to his forehead, rubbing his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. He was fighting an internal battle of whether he was going to act like a nasty dog and jerk himself off, or fight the urge all together. He fumbled with the remote, turning the tv up to full volume thinking that it would drown your sweet little noises out, and Joel’s manly grunts, but it did jack all and he finally gave in and gently palmed himself through his jeans.

That’s when he heard your voice as clear as day.

I want to fuck Logan

That’s all it took for the last shred of his resistance to fall away at the same rate that he had pulled his cock free, squeezing it firmly in his fist before he pulled his hand back, splitting a glob of saliva onto it and wrapped it back around the base of his cock.

~~

You let out a surprised squeak when Joel bucked his hips against yours, burying himself completely in your warm cunt. You scrambled to find something to grab onto, sinking your nails into his strong biceps when he withdrew his hips halfway before thrusting them forward again.

“Known for awhile that you want to fuck him, baby. Neither of you are great at hiding it either. You should see the way he drinks in your appearance the minute you walk into the goddamn room.” He mumbled against your lips, caging you in his arms when he began to pick up a steady rhythm, listening to the soft squelch of your pussy sucking him in further with each powerful thrust. “Thought about tellin’ Logan that he should just make a move, but I wanted to discuss it with you first.”

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned freely, lips falling away from the kiss briefly before finding one another again like two magnets. “So, you’re okay with it then?”

“Fuck yeah, I am. But under one condition.” He stilled his hips, reaching his freehand back down between your connected bodies so he could play with your clit at his leisure.

Your body twitched in his arms from the sudden stimulation and that familiar tingling feeling that was blooming deep in the pit of your stomach as your walls clenched tightly around him, squeezing his cock like a vice. “What’s the condition?”

“I get to watch him fuck you. If y’all wanna get acquainted and fool around beforehand, that’s fine with me, but I get to watch him fuck you.” He rasped and in one swift movement, he maneuvered you onto his lap, cock still buried deep inside of you. The kiss was broken briefly so that he could gaze up at you through hooded eyes. “And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll even wanna join in. Jus’ am curious to see how well you take another man’s cock, baby. M’sure Logan is gonna be thrilled.” He grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh with his thick fingers. “The way I see it, It’s a win-win situation for everyone involved.” He let out a sharp breath when you instinctively rolled your hips against his, foreheads pressed tightly together.

“I fucking love you so much, Joel.” You whispered against his lips, carding your fingers through his hair and tugged on the roots gently so his head was tilted back slightly. You could feel his smirk form in the sloppy kiss, and the way he tugged you closer, chests pressed together.

“I love you too, baby. Jus’ wanna see my girl happy s’all. And if fucking the goddamn Wolverine makes you happy, then so be it.”

Logan could hear every squeak from the old mattress, the wooden frame smacking the wall in sync with the heavy weight of Joel’s thrusts, and he could even hear the wet, squelch of your pussy, and skin slapping on skin. The mental images he created in his mind spurred his wrist to move faster, jerking his cock like a horny teenager that had stumbled across the adult magazine section in a grocery store for the first time.

He gnawed on his lower lip till it began to bleed and then healed over immediately after. His lashes fluttered, muscles growing taught and veins bulging the closer he got to cumming in his fist. He bit down on the back of his hand, hard enough to draw blood, and the stinging pain mixed with pleasure sent him right over the edge with stars dotting his vision before he slumped back against the couch, cock spent and growing soft.

“The fucker probably can’t wait to bury his face between your thighs, inhale your scent and eat your sweet pussy like a man starved. Bet it’s been so fuckin’ long for him, that he’ll cream his pants the second he even catches a sliver of your skin.”

“Well, bub, you got one thing right, that’s for damn sure. I can’t wait to bury my face between your girl's thighs and eat her sweet pussy like a man starved.” Logan chuckled to himself, letting out a content sigh as he glanced down at the mess of his release coating his hand, and his happy trail.

He reached over the coffee table for his almost abandoned glass of whiskey and quickly downed the rest before snatching up one of the cigars Joel had so kindly gotten for him and a box of matches. And just as he lit the end of the cigar, and kicked his feet up on the coffee table so he could get more comfortable, his ears were blessed with the high pitched sounds of you orgasming. “Fuck.” He nearly groaned, cock twitching pathetically at the pornographic sound you emitted.

~~

The sun had not even begun to rise in the sky, but there was a chill in the air, a telling sign that fall was on the horizon and the changing of seasons. The early morning light was softer now compared to the summer months, and bathed Joel’s exposed back in a warm, golden glow.

You curled your body around his, hugging him like a koala when he went to untangle his legs from your own. He let out a throaty chuckle, raspy and sticky with prior slumber when you tighten your grip around him.

He blindly reached behind, finding your bare thigh and gave it an affectionate squeeze and gentle pat with his calloused palm. “C’mon, baby.” He rasped, “gotta pee, and then I’m gonna go find Tommy’n get an early start.”

“Stay in bed.”

“S’temptin.’” he mused, rolling over with a soft grunt so he was facing you finally.

“It’s fucking freezing in here, Joel. You’re my personal heater, and I forbid you from leaving.”

“Mmm.” He nuzzled his face against your pulse point, inhaling your familiar scent with a content sigh. “Could always ask Logan to take my place…” He trails off.

“Are you trying to make me soaking wet right now?” You teased.

You could feel him grinning against your skin as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss at the juncture where your jaw met your neck. “Why? Is it working?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You said coyly, finding his hand to slowly drag it between your bare thighs, but he was acting stubborn; the gall he had.

“No can do, my little minx.” He retracted his touch from you all together, finding an opening to slip out of your warm embrace and swung his legs over the side of the bed before pushing himself up. You could hear a faint crack in his lower back the moment he stretched his arms above his head, and he cheekily pivoted his hips to the side just so you could enjoy the little show and dreamily watch the way that his heavy cock swung between his thighs.

Letting out a groan that was nothing short of frustrating, you rolled over onto your stomach, kicking your legs up behind your head languidly with your chin propped in your palms. “Can’t believe you’re gonna choose your brother over me, and my drooling pussy, Joel.” You said with a noticeable pout.

He bent down, grabbing ahold of his discarded shirt from the night before and pulled it over his head and shoulders, obstructing your view of his broad chest and soft, kissable tummy. “You and your droolin’ pussy will live, sweetheart.” He took a few steps towards the bed, leaning down to brush his lips against yours in a sweet peck.

“Actually, I don’t think we will. I think we’re both gonna die a truly excruciating death if you don’t be a man and take care of the mess I’m making in your sheets.” You mumbled against his lips, attempting to deepen the kiss further, but he swiftly pulled back, brows crinkled in amusement as he observed your pout of frustration, and that yearning look glossed over in your eyes before his gaze traveled down the curve of your spine and between your thighs.

He chuckled in amusement when you arch your back and spread your legs further just so he could see how swollen and puffy your pussy looked from this angle, dripping with need, desperate to be played with, to be filled.

“Put your pussy away, you preening slut.” He said teasingly, not meaning it in an overtly degrading way, and simply just a jest; all in good fun.

“Fiiine.” You sighed in defeat, dropping your weight from your elbows and plopped down, face first into his pillow dramatically.

“Poor baby.” He cooed and leaned down, pressing his lips to the side of your head. “I’ll let Logan know that you and your needy little pussy will be waiting for him.”

“Go piss already, old man.” You grumbled into the pillow.

“Goin’ straight for the jugular, huh?” He chuckled and grabbed the end of the sheet, draping it over you gently before he pivoted on his heel and padded over to the attached bathroom.

~~

Logan was still passed out on the couch when Joel crept downstairs, fully dressed now. There was the faint stench of tobacco, musk, and oh—

Joel didn’t mean to look, he truly didn’t—but it was staring him right in the fucking face, and immediately sent a hot, red flush rising up his cheeks and sweat began to pool at the nape of his neck.

Logan stirred in his heavy slumber, one arm propping up behind his head as a makeshift pillow, bicep muscles bulging even in a relaxed state. His freehand slowly drifted southwards, brushing against the protruding vein on his lower abdomen and trailed right down to the soft, dark, enticing hair on his happy trail.

“I’m fuckin’ losin’ it, I swear.” Joel muttered to himself, scraping his own hand down his face before he quickly made a departure for the kitchen.

He was careful to be quiet, as he didn’t want to disturb the other man while he prepared himself a steaming mug of coffee, one of his many guilty pleasures that he never believed he would get to indulge in again.

cue me breaking the 4th wall. I know what you’re all thinking. Gianna, are Joel and Logan going to fuck yet? No, my lovely readers, I’m going to continue to edge you just a little more 🙂‍↕️ (and by a little more I mean you have to wait till chapter three 😔 but don’t worry! The sexual tension is there, and it’s simmering, but first, some angst!

P.S. if you read this in Deadpool’s voice, I fucking love u and we’re gonna make out now.

Okay, that’s all, folks! Back to the gay pining!

The Wolverine began to mumble in his sleep, not just fragmented words, but names—names of those he once knew, those he lost. The nightmares were never-ending, a constant reminder of the past that could never be undone. Even after teaming up with Wade, and saving the world, Logan still would think about the X-Men. That’s the funny thing about trauma, it never actually goes away, you just learn how to mask it as time goes on.

“Howlett?” Joel hesitantly said from the threshold of the kitchen, footsteps padding towards the living room.

Logan shot up from the couch, with an animalistic yell emitting from his throat. His eyes were wide, sweat pooled down his bare chest and his claws unsheathed with that familiar metal swoosh. He blinked a rapidly, registering where he was before he fell back against the couch and retracted his claws as he caught his breath.

“Logan?…Y’alright in there?”

Fuck.

“Jus’ fine, Miller. Sorry for startling you.” Logan muttered, voice raspy with sleep. It dawned upon him then that last night, after he—well, got himself off, he passed out before he had a chance to tuck his cock back into his jeans.

Guy must really fuckin’ think I’m an animal.

“Are ya decent?”

So, he did see? Fuck.

“Jus’ a minute.”

Joel waited till he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled up, and the metallic clink of a belt before he made his presence known, leaning against the opening of the kitchen with two mugs of coffee now.

He observes the other man silently, watching as he slowly sits up, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes, taking a deep lungful of air before exhaling.

“You’re shaking.” Joel states the obvious and hesitantly approaches the couch, sitting down against the side of it.

Thanks, captain obvious.” Logan snorts under his breath, fighting the urge to grin at the other man’s obvious hesitation.

“Those things have a mind of their own, huh?” Joel refers to the metal claws that were once protruding out of Logan’s knuckles.

“Somethin’ like that.” He eyes the second mug of coffee before finally meeting Joel’s gaze. “That for me?”

“What? Oh—the coffee.” Joel feels a flush creeping on as he holds the mug of coffee towards Logan almost as a peace offering. “Yeah.”

Logan reaches for the mug, meeting Joel’s hand halfway before taking it from him. Their fingers brush, and he tries to not notice how fast Joel moves to retract his hand.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Joel’s response is unintentionally gruff sounding. He sighs, taking a sip from his own mug.

“Do you have them often?”

The Wolverine raises a brow, confusion etched over his face. “What?”

“The nightmares.” Joel clarifies, “do you have them often?”

“Every night.” Logan said just above a whisper. His eyes cast downwards towards the mug in his hands, an unreadable expression crosses his face.

“Well, we got somethin’ in common after all.”

Logan looks up in surprise, studying the other man for a moment. He wants to ask questions, but he doesn’t want to invade Joel’s privacy or pry where he’s not wanted, let alone welcomed.

“Sun ain’t even up yet, bub. Where ya off to?”

“Patrol with Tommy, once I find him. Wanna get an early start.”

Logan doesn’t even think twice before he starts to swing his legs over the side of the couch to stand up, but he’s stopped in his tracks when he feels a warm, calloused palm press down against his bare chest. The movement shocks both men, and the Wolverine falls into submission, sinking back down against the couch pillows that were already crushed under his weight.

“You’ve done well out there, Howlett. Take the day off, and keep my girl company instead.”

Don’t move your hand, bub. Keep it right there. Is what Logan really wants to say.

“Y’sure, Miller?” He tests the waters for any possible ulterior motive that Joel may have.

Much to Logan’s disappointment, Joel slowly removes his hand from his chest, bringing it down to his side, fingers flexing and then curling into a fist as if he’s in disbelief over what he just did.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Between you and me, there ain’t no hidin’ your attraction to her. And well—seems like she’s takin’ a liking to you as well.” Joel said with a light chuckle, bringing his mug back up to his lips and took a quick sip. “And seeing as you won’t grow a pair and jus’ make a move, I figured I’d give you my permission.”

“I ain’t worthy of her, Joel. That’s your girl. If I’ve overstepped—”

“Yeah?” Joel leaned in, close enough that from this angle, Logan could make out every little detail on the other man’s face. “Guess you don’t wanna hear how she’s upstairs right now, leakin’ all over my goddamn sheets like a bitch in heat, huh?”

“And you want me…to—take care of it?” He chooses his words carefully.

“I know you ain’t all that innocent, Logan. You don’t gotta hide that shit from me. You want her? She’s all yours. But, a word of advice, if I may. Let her come to you. She enjoys the chase more than she likes to be chased. Play coy with her. That one lives for a good fuckin’ game of cat and mouse.”

“And this isn’t a trap? Yeah, of course I want your girl. I’d be a goddamn fool if I didn’t.”

“It ain’t a trap. I’m appeasing to both sides, Logan. My only condition is that you can’t fuck her—not yet, at least. I want to be there to watch. Everything else, however, is on the table, so do with that as you will.” He finished off his coffee and pushed himself off the side of the couch. Before the Wolverine could even respond, he had one last thing to say before he would take his leave.

“Oh, and Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll know if you fucked her without me.”

My panties just disappeared…how did that happen? AND my rose toy just flew into my hand like Thors hammer! Weird…

~~

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[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - part 4

Summary: “Y/N and Harry both attend Sophie’s party, and it doesn’t exactly pan out how Y/N thought it would.”

Wc: 5.6k

Tropes: boxer!harry x innocent!reader

Warnings: physical violence, verbal threats, angst, mention of SA, fluff, jealousy.

A/N: tell a friend to tell a friend… SHE’S BAAACCCKKK!!!! Hi guys, thank you for being so patient. I was literally unable to write for weeks and they were the worst weeks of my life, but I’m finally doing better and my creative juices are flowing! Pray with me that it’ll last🙏

Also THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD sorry I was just too excited to get this out🤭😋

P.S. I recommend you listen to ‘Ice Cream Man’ by RAYE. Not only does it apply to the sorry (warning: SA) but RAYE is also an incredible artist!!

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Y/N had never observed herself in the mirror for this long. She was certain that at one point she was going to start to look disfigured to herself, but she just needed to make sure that everything was right.

During her childhood, and especially her adolescent years, Y/N had always been told not to be too vain, but to always look good. There were contradictory balances that she's had to sit in the middle of for as long as she could remember, and she was good at it, until tonight.

For some reason, this burgundy dress she was wearing had to be matched perfectly with her shoes, bag and make-up, and right now she was absolutely sure that it didn't.

Instead of throwing her blow dryer at the mirror like she wanted to, Y/N took a deep breath and closed her eyes, hoping her mind would occupy her with a distraction good enough to give a refreshed perspective when she'd open her eyes again. Of course it was him that flashed through her mind the second her eyelids fluttered shut. She should not have been surprised, because wasn't that what this was all about?

Y/N hadn't been able to stop thinking about Harry since... well, actually she couldn't exactly remember since when because that's how long he's been floating around her head for. Seeing him multiple times a week wasn't helping much either, it gave her new material to think about whenever she had a second to spare. It was like a disease, spreading through her entire body, except she didn't mind and the symptoms made her feel more alive than ever.

Just the sole touch of fingers on her waist, or shoulders was worth replaying a million times in her head, as were all the times he'd say something that could even remotely be said in another, less appropriate context. Y/N felt like she had to visit a confessional or something, because it was getting out of hand. But she knew this wasn't bad, and the only thing she was doing by fighting this was stopping herself from getting something she—deep down—felt she didn't deserve.

Despite these pitiful revelations, Y/N still found herself nitpicking at every single aspect of her appearance as she got ready for Sophie's birthday party.

With only five minutes on the clock until her Uber driver would be outside, Y/N decided to accept the black heels she'd put on and the small shoulder bag she'd settled on. A final look in the mirror indeed gave her an epiphany: brown lip liner.

After darkening her lips with the pencil, at last it felt like everything had fallen into place— with the exception of the nerves dwarreling around her lower stomach of course. Even as she sat in the Uber with the nice woman who was talking about her kids as she drove her to the party didn't do one thing to take her mind off the excitement she was feeling.

Y/N tipped her driver before she got out of the car and made her way inside, where she was greeted by an elated—and perhaps already slightly intoxicated—Sophie. The long, dark green dress she wore complimented the blonde shade of her hair, and her make-up was out of this world. Y/N made sure to note that when she congratulated her friend.

It only took five seconds of scanning the room before she spotted him, standing by the bar as he—Y/N could only assume—waited to be served his drink. It felt much like being a magnet to a whiteboard, the way she was so drawn to him. Y/N knew she should've considered herself lucky that another couple came into greeting Sophie, because otherwise she wouldn't have been let off the hook so easily, but that gratefulness was far down on the list of things that took up her thoughts as she made her way to the man at the bar. And when he turned around, she may as well have punched herself then and there, because Harry looked breathtaking.

He always did, of course, but seeing him in a dark grey suit with a soft pink dress shirt, his hair pushed back and all clean shaven... it did something to her.

From the looks of it, Y/N took the guess that her appearance also threw Harry off in some kind of way, since the stutter in his greeting was too apparent to ignore.

"H— hi." He said, mouth slightly agape as his widened eyes took in Y/N. "You look beautiful."

She could have sworn her intestines were being swapped all around inside her because those nerves in her stomach tripled in size as she eyed the floor for a second while heat rose to her cheeks. Y/N had never been good at receiving compliments, mostly because she had been taught that not immediately accepting them was the only way to be worthy of them. Besides, it would make her conceited and rude to just agree.

And yet, all those rules on how to behave flew out the window the second those green eyes were on her, and she didn't care that she jeopardized her worthiness. She just wanted to soak in the words he deliberately told her, and feel good about them. So she didn't argue him on anything, and instead responded:

"Thank you. You clean up good yourself."

The lopsided smirk on Harry's face made Y/N want to jump up and down, for no other reason than that the sight of it just made her really happy. And for a moment she wondered if it couldn't just stay like this forever? Pure, sincere, and not strong enough to be soul crushingly destroyed by anyone, including her own self sabotaging tendencies.

"Oh, this old thing? Just threw it on." Harry shrugged, his eyes fixated on Y/N. She laughed at his ridiculous attempt to be cool. He leaned against the bar, his head tilting a bit. "What are you having?"

His head nodded towards the bar, and Y/N took it as an invitation to get closer to Harry. She stood next to him, just a little closer than necessary, as she hummed and thought about the hundreds of drinks she could possibly order, and totally didn't settle on the same one she always gets.

"I think I'm going to get a cosmopolitan." She answered, and surprised her smile as much as she could as she watched Harry flag down the waiter and order the drink for her. She quite liked this gentleman-like treatment.

"Very fitting, angel." He said lowly as the waiter put down the drink in front of her.

Y/N turned her head to him, a raised brow challenging him slightly. "And why is that?"

Harry moved to lean his entire back against the bar instead of just one side, and shrugged his shoulders as he observed the room before locking his eyes onto her again.

"Because you're just as sweet as that cocktail." The grin that his comment was accompanied by would have been enough to make Y/N's knees buckle right then and there, but the fact that she was holding onto a bar helped a great deal.

The sight of Oscar talking to some other colleagues of hers also helped with that. She could quite literally feel the color drain from her face as she took him in.

It wasn't like it was unexpected; she knew there was a big chance he'd be there. But between Harry, the amount of work she had to do, and all of her self-defense training, she hadn't had much time to think about hypothetical confrontations with Oscar.

"Are you okay?" Harry's gaze darted from the direction in which you were staring back to Y/N. Only when her eyes settled on him again, a part of the worry in his eyes slightly faded. She mustered a smile, nodding her head and hoping it would be enough to convince him. From the look on his face she knew that he wasn't convinced in even the slightest, but she was surprised to hear him switch the topic of the conversation.

"I want you to meet Greg." He said, and Y/N hummed in agreement, grabbing her glasses and following as Harry lead them to her colleague's boyfriend.

"I've already met Greg." She noted, still walking closely next to Harry, whose hand was ghosting over the small of her back.

"Yeah, but I want you to meet him as my best friend."

Y/N was sure that whatever was rattling in her stomach was doing cartwheels as she took in the determination on Harry's face. It didn't seem like he was shying away from what he was implying, and yet she wasn't certain. Because what if he didn't mean it like that at all? Y/N needed to be 100% sure that her suspicions were correct, because the weight of the humiliation that hung over the risk she could take was too great to bear. Besides, she didn't want to jeopardize the self-defense classes. It was a place of safety for her now, she couldn't lose it.

She didn't have much time to dwell on it given that she found herself in front of Greg. Quickly shoving her thoughts away, she conjured a smile and gave the man in front of her a hug.

"How have you been?" Greg asked, grinning widely as he waited on an answer. "Heard you've been taking self-defense classes."

The way he eyed his friend, and the manner in which Harry's eyes glared at Greg, caused a wave of of giddiness to flood over her. This had to mean something, right? Or was she just fishing now?

"Uh, yes, I have. It has helped me a lot." She  answered with rosy cheeks. Greg nodded his head.

"That's great, Y/N. I mean, Harold here is a great teacher, isn't he?"

She snickered, turning to Harry. "That's your full name?"

"No, Greg just likes to be an asshole from time to time." The agonizing smile on his face told her that Harry was a bit on edge, nervous almost? Y/N focused on Greg again.

"Yes, he's amazing." She said, and could feel the blood rush to her ears as she took in her own words. Instead of throwing out a bunch of excuses and rectifications on the construction of her sentence, she zipped her mouth shut, and let the compliment hang in the air. Her heart was racing, and she didn't dare look Harry in the eye, but from the small glance that Greg threw his way, she knew that he'd had some sort of reaction to the compliment.

"Well, stick around and soon you'll be strong enough to take out any man. My Sophie could knock me the fuck out of she needed to, and I'm glad she can." Greg beamed as he mentioned his girlfriend. Y/N was filled with a warm feeling in her chest as she observed Sophie's boyfriend. Her friend was a boss of a woman and to know she was getting the love she deserved was most heartwarming.

The moment was cut short, though, when another person entered the conversation. 

"Harry Styles?!" A joyous shriek—for lack of a more polite word—came from a short blonde woman to Y/N's left. The woman didn't pay any mind to Greg nor her as she headed for Harry, giving him a long, very very long hug. Y/N swallowed.

"Lindsay, I haven't seen you in ages." Harry's voice was kind, he sounded excited even. Maybe it was an old friend, or classmate, or—

"That's because the last time you saw me you broke my heart, hon." She giggled. Harry's brows raised ever so slightly.

An old girlfriend. Right, Y/N should've known that. That just made this entire situation a whole lot more awkward, and if there was one thing Y/N didn't care for it was unpleasantries like these.

So, she decided to do the one thing she was best at: escape. Downing her drink in one go, she wiggled her glass, catching Harry's attention.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom and then get another drink, see you later." Y/N's smile was sweet and full of sincerity, but her legs were heavy as she made her way to the bathroom, as if carrying an invisible ball and chain around each leg. She didn't want to be away from Harry, she wanted to snarl at that ex-girlfriend of his and tell her to back off.

But it was irrational and petty, and not to mention totally inappropriate, so she distanced herself instead. Y/N felt a headache looming, her body fighting her mind for the cowardly attitude it encouraged. She spent way longer in the bathroom than she needed to, eventually only going back after a minute long silent peptalk that she performed to herself in the mirror.

When she returned to the room she saw Harry still talking to his ex, only Greg had now left them and was dancing with Sophie and some others. Y/N thought over her options, and decided to join her friend.

She tried her hardest not to look for Harry in the crowded room, letting the music capture all of her attention. Sophie and Greg were performing all kinds of dance moves that had Y/N throw her head back in laughter, and in that moment everything felt so good.

Simple and good, that was joy. She hadn’t felt that in a long time.

After countless of songs and dance battles on the lit up floor, Y/N decided to take a break and treat herself to another drink. Sauntering over to the bar, she waited her turn order another cosmopolitan, and took a step to the side to let other people order as well.

Y/N was still looking at her fidgeting hands, lost in deep thought, when a familiar scent roamed through her nostrils and stiffened her entire body.

"A Long Island ice tea, please." Oscar's voice sounded from beside her. Y/N didn't dare to look up and stayed focused on her hands instead. She could see his hands from the corner of her eyes, they were desperately clamping onto the bar, knuckles  white.

Without even touching her, Oscar had managed to put a tightening strain on Y/N's chest that felt too uncomfortable to make her move. She was glad to see her cosmopolitan arrive, and was quick to move to the other side of the bar. In the quick second that she glanced at Oscar, she noticed his eyes were following her.

When he started moving closer to where Y/N was standing, the tenseness in her body began to develop into a full-blown panic, and when a set of hands settled on her waist, she couldn't help the hasty gasp that left her mouth before she turned around.

Harry looked surprised when she met his eyes, and she let out a sigh of relief to see that it was only him. Y/N let out a breathy chuckle as she slowly shook her head.

"Gosh, you scared me." It was noticeable in the strain of her voice that the stress hadn't left her body entirely, and Harry seemed to notice that. He raised a brow.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded eagerly, not wanting to steer the conversation this way. "'M fine. What about you?"

"Frankly, I'm a bit disappointed." Harry admitted, and Y/N frowned at the confession. Her head tilted, she asked:

"Why?"

"You told me I wasn't going to get rid of you so easily the other day." He noted, the memory of your conversation brought a smile to your face. "And yet I lost you after about ten minutes."

Y/N chuckled. "I was giving you some space. I didn't want to be rude."

"Angel... in any case, when it comes to Lindsay Holloway, please be rude." The sincerity in Harry's voice made her burst out into giggle.

"I take it you weren't planning on rekindling old flames then." Y/N said, and when Harry confirmed it with a firm nod, she grimaced. "And here I thought I was being a good sport, leaving you alone with her."

"Trust me, angel. She is not the woman I would like be alone with." He leaned forward, his face way too close to Y/N for her to function normally because of it. The overwhelming urge to just— kiss him was almost too great to resist. The way his eyes took her in was so exhilarating, and it didn't make her insecure because she didn't need wonder what he was thinking; it was written all over his face.

"Oh." Was the only sound that Y/N could utter as she processed Harry's words. His eyes flicked from hers to her mouth as he softly pushed her back against the bar, grinning at how her doe-like eyes were observing his every move.

"Aren't you going to ask me who I would like to be alone with?" Harry asked, and it was clear that he was taunting her. But it didn't occur to Y/N to mind, as she immediately obeyed him.

"Who would you like to be alone with, Harry?" She posed the question, watching his jaw clench at his name falling from her lips.

"Y/N!"

Both Y/N and Harry's head whipped to the side where Sophie was standing with a slightly distressed look on her face. Almost out of instinct, it seemed, Harry took a step back. A pang boomed through Y/N's chest.

"I need to talk to you, now." She demanded, not even a hint of a questioning tone in her voice. She meant business. Y/N nodded and slid past Harry, grabbing Sophie's hand and letting her friend lead the both of them outside.

There were some other people outside, smoking cigarettes as they chatted with each other. Every person stopped to greet Sophie with a smile or another 'congratulations' as they walked more towards the alley, where there were less people. Y/N's heart was racing from both the encounter with Harry and the nervousness that had built up thinking of the possible ways that this talk with Sophie could go.

She hadn't expected Sophie to start squealing in excitement, but it was better than anything she could've imagined.

"Oh my god! You and Harry?! For how long has this been going on?" She asked, and Y/N swiftly shook her head.

"There is nothing going on." She replied, the monotony in her voice doing little to hide the frustrations about the truth of that sentence. "I mean, there might have been a start of something going on before we went outside."

Sophie winced. "I'm sorry, I cockblocked you. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you don't seem like someone who is into casual hook-ups."

Y/N's face twisted in discomfort, and Sophie panicked at the sight of it.

"Not that Harry only does hook-ups! I didn't mean it like that. I just— I hadn't heard you mention him before and I didn't realize you were so close until last week." She instantly began to rant, and Y/N grew defense from her words.

"He offered me some extra training to build more muscle." She shrugged.

“Hmm, sure he is.” Sophie hummed playfully, wiggling her eyebrows and causing a snort to fall from Y/N’s lips. It took a few moments to control their schoolgirl-like giggles, but when they’d managed to pipe down, Sophie’s face turned a bit more serious.

“I just wanted to assure you that Harry is a good guy. You can trust him, you don’t have to hold yourself back.” Her eyes were soft as Sophie spoke, both her hands wrapped around Y/N’s right one. There was a stinging sensation in Y/N’s chest at the mention of the tendencies she thought she concealed quite well, but she was far from offended by it. On the contrary; she was relieved that Sophie could see right through her regarding this topic, because without this confirmation, Y/N would’ve doubted this situation for too long, probably causing Harry to grow bored and leave.

“Soph, we’ve been looking all over for you! We need to do the Photo Booth!” Stacy, another lawyer from the firm suddenly appeared and interrupted the conversation, shrieking in excitement as she hurried over to Sophie and grabbed her arm. She barely paid any mind to Y/N, at least not until Sophie gave her a guilty glance. Stacy conjured a confused smile of her own, her mind clearly battling about the fact that she seemed to recognize Y/N, only she had no idea where from.

“I’m going to borrow her for a little while.” She said, and it was only now that Y/N realized how nasal this Stacy sounded. Sophie had complained about it a dozen times, and now she finally understood the issue.

“Go ahead, have fun, I’ll find you later Soph.” Y/N said, smiling as she watched Stacy and Sophie walk back inside. She took the moment alone outside as an opportunity to clear her mind. To assure herself, that she had the confirmation that Harry liked her as well, and to just take the leap.

“Cigarette?”

Y/N’s head snapped towards Oscar, who was standing only standing a few feet away from her. She glanced at the other people smoking outside; at least she wasn’t alone. She turned her attention back to Oscar, and shook her head.

It stayed silent between the two, and since Y/N didn’t want anything to do with Oscar, she slowly started to walk away. But then, a sentence left Oscar’s mouth that had her frozen where she stood.

“Are you going to accuse him of assaulting you too?”

Y/N lost her breath. Did he really just say that? She pressed down the immense wave of nausea that threatened her to puke all over her pretty dress, and focused on her breathing before she turned around to face him.

“What did you just say to me?” Her tone was sharp, laced with a feeling of injustice. She tried to steady herself as much as she could, but she could feel her hands trembling from the adrenaline.

“I should probably warn him. Who knows what you’ll do to his life.” He sneered, his tone smothered in resentment. Y/N hadn’t even told anyone about what Oscar had done to her, and here he was, accusing her of ruining people’s lives.

“You need to leave me alone…” She growled, balling up her fists to channel her frustration into anything else than the wall or his face.

“Or what? You’re going to tell on me? Seriously, you don’t think that two men with a stellar reputation would make for a more believable story than a self-pitying gold digger?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“What? Mad I’m right? You do only target successful men right, don’t you?” He asked. The amusement in his eyes was disgusting and it made Y/N take a step back. She was seething with rage over Oscar’s words.

“Stay the hell away from me, Oscar.” Y/N fumed, turning around to walk inside, and when she felt a hand around her wrist, she couldn’t help the instinct that caused her to plant her fist in Oscar’s face. Just the way she had been taught.

It was with way more force than she’d ever managed to do before, and she was pretty sure she heard something crack—although she couldn’t make out whether that was Oscar’s nose or his knees as he fell to the ground.

It was like she could finally breathe, seeing him lay on the floor, groaning in pain. She’d been strong enough to defend herself from danger. Pride filled her chest, although it was vague in comparison to the rage that had overtaken the rest of her body.

Y/N flinched when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, but calmed down at the sight of Lindsay, Harry’s old girlfriend, standing beside her. She looked quite worried as Y/N let her guide her to the rest of the people who were still smoking outside. They all began to ask variations of the same questions: ‘are you okay?’ ‘Did he hurt you?’. Y/N frowned upon noticing Lindsay hurry back inside, but she didn’t pay much mind to it anymore when the guy next to her offered a cigarette. She shook her head, a bit taken aback by the timing of the action, and was just about to answer the question of the woman in front of her, when the huddled up group opened up and Harry appeared in front of her.

Crouching down, his eyes roamed over her entire body before settling on her knuckles that had already begun to turn red. His gaze met Y/N’s.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“What happened?”

It only then occurred to Y/N that Oscar was probably still laying there, and the quick glance she shot to her left was enough for Harry to know what was going on. He stood up and walked over to Oscar, who had gotten up himself and met him in the middle.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Harry asked. His voice was stone cold, everything about him was, actually. Not one hint of emotion could be traced in his tone, posture or really anything else. It would’ve been scary, had Y/N had the ability to feel scared of Harry. But she just couldn’t; he made her feel safe.

“Listen man, you need to avoid that girl. She’s fucking crazy. She already tried to ruin my life, don’t let her threaten you to ruin yours.”

All the pent up anger that had seemed to subside slightly once having socked Oscar in the face raced back all at once as the words registered in Y/N’s brain. But before she could get back up to her feet, Harry struck a punch, bringing Oscar to the ground once again.

Leaning forward, he grabbed him by his collar and pulled him up far enough so he could hear him when he said:

“If I ever hear you talking about her like that— better yet, if you come near her again I swear to god I’ll kick out every last one of your teeth… to start with.” Harry warned before letting go of Oscar’s collar with a shove that made a couple of people take a physical step back, and even made one person behind her gasp. Harry didn’t seem to care about any of that as he turned around; he just headed straight for Y/N.

Nor did he didn’t even so much as acknowledge Lindsay, who thanked him, but Y/N made sure to send a grateful smile her way as Harry wrapped his arm around her and led her inside. He didn’t say a word as they entered the room again and walked towards Sophie and Greg.

At first, Sophie was smiling at the sight of Y/N and Harry, but upon spotting her friend’s pale face, the corners of her mouth lowered into a thin line.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Her hands were on Y/N immediately, fixing her hair and brushing her fingers against her pale cheek. Y/N knew that she probably looked like she had seen a ghost.

“I’m going to take her home.” Harry announced, and relief washed over Y/N because she didn’t really know what to say right now. Faking a smile, she tried to assure Sophie that it was alright, but her friend was already nodding before Harry had finished speaking.

Throwing her arms around her, Sophie hugged Y/N so tightly that she nearly lost her breath. When she finally let go, the look on her face was determined.

“I love you, have a good night. If you need anything, call me.” She said. Y/N nodded.

“I love you, have a great night.” She turned to Greg. “Watch her.”

The weak joke still managed to make the couple chuckle—probably out of pity—and Greg nodded dutifully, wishing her a good night with that playful wink of his. When Y/N turned back to Harry, he held out her jacket. Her face settled into a confused frown; how did he manage to get their coats so quickly. Was he a wizard or something?

Harry bid the couple farewell as well and soon they were on their way back to the car. Y/N was tense about going outside again, but her shoulders relaxed upon seeing an empty street. Oscar had left, thank god.

The car ride was mostly silent, aside from a few questions about the AC, and an attempt of Harry’s to casually ask for her address again, only to have it at the top of his search list on Google Maps. Y/N had to hold back her giggle.

The rest of it consisted of listening and moving their heads along to whatever song was on. It was mainly rap songs, and Harry knew them all, which was logical considering it was his playlist. There was something attractive about Harry knowing all these songs, it made him look a bit more… intimidating.

Y/N really needed to figure out what deep rooted issue caused her to like that.

She had to admit she was slightly disappointed when he pulled up in front of her apartment complex, so she took her time to turn her head to him, the hint of a smile on her face still. Y/N couldn’t help it; he just made her comfortable. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned towards the middle of the vehicle, closer to Harry.

“Thank you, for dropping me off.” She said in a near whisper. The corners of Harry’s mouth tugged up, and he—in turn—closed the distance between even more, their faces only a few inches apart now. Y/N’s hands began to sweat.

“Anything for you, angel.” His voice was raspy, and despite the cockiness he radiated, there was still concern behind it.

But it was over— for Y/N it was over. Her self-control, an entity of its own, seemed to exit her body leaving her with nothing but him. All that adrenaline had channeled into a pressing urge to put her lips on his, to touch him, feel him all around. It was over.

Nothing held her back, not even her own stubborn mind, as she leaped forward and kissed Harry.

While she had expected him to maybe be surprised about her action, the way his mouth welcomed her—invited her, even—was enough proof that he had been ready for her.

Kissing Harry was like jumping off a cliff and diving deeper into the ocean. For once, she didn’t feel like to love was to drown. No, she submerged herself into the water and felt more at home than she had ever felt at the surface. Was it possible to feel at home in someone’s arms?

With a hand on her jaw, Harry lured Y/N forward further, challenging her by pulling back a bit. Needing his lips like it was her own source of oxygen, Y/N didn’t hesitate to lean further, and in all her desperation, climbed right onto his lap.

The short dress didn’t leave much restrictions for her heat as she automatically began to grind her hips. Only when Harry let out a pained groan that shot straight to her core, she’d realized what she was doing— what they were doing.

Pulling away in a flash, a gasp left Y/N. Her lips felt all puffy, much like Harry’s looked.

“S— sorry, I didn’t know what came over me.” Y/N shot in her defensive mode, but Harry only shook his head.

“Don’t say sorry, angel. I—” he cut himself off, and met her eyes. “I don’t think we should do this right now, because—”

Shit, no, shit, shit!

“Oh, yeah, no of course, no problem. I mean, you’re right.” Y/N began to rant, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. How could she ever do such a stupid thing. She was quick to lean over and grab her bag. “But thank you, for bringing me home, and I’ll see you Tuesday.”

Before Harry could even get a word in, she opened the door on the driver’s seat and climbed out of the car, smashing the door shut harsher than she intended to. She winced at the sound, but kept walking. This rejection was humiliating enough as it was, she didn’t need Harry to elaborate on all the reasons he didn’t want her.

She heard the car door open, but by then, Y/N had already entered her building. In the chaos of it all, she decided to sprint up the stairs, wanting to get away from the situation as fast as possible, and in that process forgetting that she lived on the sixth floor.

She was out of breath when she finally reached her apartment, but not as out of breath as she would have been a month ago. Damn Harry, those classes were really working.

Once inside, Y/N leaned against the door, dramatically letting herself slip to the ground as she buried her head in her arms and let out a frustrated groan. Why was every next step she took on the aspect of love always destined to be her most embarrassing one yet?

She huffed, massaging her temples as she soaked in the shame and slowly felt it wither away. She knew the mortification would wane, but the sudden awareness of that ache between her legs, she knew that wouldn’t just go away. With a sigh, Y/N hoisted herself up and got ready for bed before lying down and digging into her nightstand’s drawer to grab the only thing that could cure the ache down there.

Her racing mind was a reminder that getting this out of her system wasn’t going to be done very easily…

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah @harry2121 @babegoals @hermionelove @kierramcduffie

[intoxicated-chan]

❜𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐈 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐮❜𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

Summary ➳ Daryl never liked it when the neighborhood cop Shane came around. You, oblivious to Shane’s attempts to flirt with you and don’t see the fuming Daryl.

(A/n) ➳ Inspired by “You” by Ari Abdul. Those who are waiting for the first chapter of JUDAS, it’s almost done. I’m just finishing the final touches before it’s uploaded. This is also very rushed, I’m sorry.

Word Count ➳ 900

Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, MODERN AU/NO OUTBREAK, DUB-CON, SHANE, jealous Daryl, sexual content, p-in-v, protected sex, phone sex, hair pulling, pet names (baby, darlin’), overstimulation, little dacryphilia…

“Goddammit Daryl!” You clutched the sheets under you as Daryl pulled your head back by your hair. “S-Slow down!” You cried out.

Daryl seemed to ignore your plea, his eyes remained on your ass and how it jiggled by each hard thrust. He continuously slammed into your g-spot, doing so without mercy.

You had no idea what’s gotten into him, he was perfectly fine this morning…

But Daryl knew what was wrong, he was angry, maybe at you but most of his anger was focused on that shitty cop.

Shane Walsh.

Daryl never believed Shane’s bullshit excuses whenever he came around your neighborhood. It was like he knew when Daryl was around, he knew of his record and his brother’s which is why he always stood back and remained silent.

Daryl was out on your driveway working on your beat-up car. He used his arm to wipe away the layer of sweat on his forehead. You had brought out a glass of ice-cold water for him, you went back inside to retrieve a rag as he asked.

“Dixon!”

Daryl froze at that voice, he cursed Shane under his breath. He turned his head slightly, enough to get a view of Shane who exited his car and walked up to him.

“(Y/n) home?” He asked, his hands on his belt as a shit-eating grin was plastered on his face.

“Busy.” He grunted in response, going back to your car.

“Mind if check?” He took a couple of steps towards your door before Daryl stood in his way.

“I’ll get ‘er.” He didn’t bother taking a second glance at him because he knew Shane had won… Yet fucking again.

You had come down the stairs, a couple of rags in hand. “I didn’t think one would be enough-“

“Cop ‘ere.” He told you, taking the rags. “Lookin’ for ya.”

“Shane? Again?” You lifted an eyebrow and peered through your window to see Shane standing there, giving you a wave. “What’s he here for?”

“The hell should I know.”

You made your way outside, seeing Shane leaning up against his patrol car. “Hey, Shane, what brings you here?”

“Just checkin’ in, makin’ sure you’re alright. Y’know, keepin’ the neighborhood safe.” Shane’s eyes lingered down your neck, he fixed his posture, getting himself a better look at your cleavage.

“Well, everythin’ is fine here. Nothin’ to report.” You let out an awkward chuckle, fixing your shirt.

Back in the house, Daryl stayed by the window, jaw clenched as his hands formed into fists.

Shane leaned in, way too close for comfort. “You free tonight?”

“I- What?” It took you a couple of seconds before his words sunk in. “No, no. I’ll be here… with my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Shane mocked. “Hard to believe a redneck like Daryl Dixon could be your boyfriend.”

“You don’t know shit, Shane. Find some other woman to ask out.” You sighed, growing frustrated.

Shane pulled out his pen and notepad, writing something. “It’s only a matter of time before he disappoints you. Call me when he’s gone or you want somethin’ better.” Ripping the paper, took your hand, and pushed into it.

Shane Walsh had crossed a line…

Daryl remembered snatching the number out of your hands and nearly ran out of the house just to punch him. You dragged him back to the room just to get him to call him.

“D-Daryl!” You mewled, shutting your eyes as you felt your hot tears slip.

“That’s it, baby, say my name.” He growled. He didn’t stop, even when you tightened around his cock, another orgasm coming down on you.

He released his hold on your hair, letting your head fall onto the pillow. He picked up his phone and began to dial the number. He left it by your head and on speaker.

“C’mon baby, let ‘im hear you.” He turned you over onto your back and shoved a pillow under your hips, letting him go deeper inside of you.

It felt like you were screaming, you couldn’t focus anymore. Not on Daryl, not on the sound of the headboard slamming into the wall… It’s a surprise that nobody had called to complain.

“Keep ya eyes on me darlin’.” He said, his hands coming to your wrists to keep them from covering your face when you tried to. “Look at me.” He demanded.

You opened your eyes to meet his blue ones, he licked his lips as his eyes were clouded.

Your nails dug into your hands. “Daryl! Daryl! Daryl!” You chanted his name over and over again, your legs coming around his hips to pull him closer.

That’s when you felt the pit again. “Daryl-!”

“C’mon, cum ‘round my cock. Let ‘im know who’s makin’ you feel like this, scream like this.” Daryl let out one final grunt as he came.

Your eyes shut instinctively as your back arched from the bed. Everything became white noise as you were sure you screamed louder than you could, waves and ripples.

Daryl slummed over your body, too tired to push him off or say anything.

He picked up the phone and smirked when he saw the call’s duration, he could hear panting on the other side. He hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, hearing it hit something.

“Stay with me darlin’.” Daryl sneered at your fucked out face. “I ain’t gonna be done with ya for a long time.”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

[eustasskidagenda]

Hi! I love your writing! Can I ask some headcanons with Kid, Sanji, Zoro, Law et Luffy going to the beach with their S/O, please?? Tysm!

Hello sweet anon! Thank you for requesting, it was fun to write. Hope it will match your expectations ☆

☆ Kid, Sanji, Zoro, Luffy & Law going to the beach with their s/o

CW : g/n reader, funny, fluff, Kid is cursing but I guess no one is surprised, Kid is a savage, really vague mention of sex for Sanji, slight cursing for Zoro + mention of alcohol,

WC : 2,3k

Kid

Heavy stomps, mumbling curses, regular sighs and grunts full of irritation. Yep. It was your idea to go to the beach. Kid would never go to the beach by himself because he hates all the screaming children and the sand between his toes. And, the sun could ruin his make-up. So he would act all grumpy, wondering what he has done to end up in such a situation. 

"Goddamn, y/n, come back, you didn't put your sunscreen" Of course Kid thinks about his skin all the damn time, he's such a beauty-influencer when it comes to make-up and skin care. If you neglect to apply sunscreen to your body, he will bark at you, grab you by the wrist, and do all the work himself. And then, you'll have to help him, especially when it comes to applying sunscreen to his back. He won't let you know he loves when you run your hands down his back and along his always tensed shoulders. 

"I've seen this place before you, fuck off!" While planting violently your parasol on the ground, barking to the poor innocent guy who tried to set his stuff at the place Kid noticed in first. "It's my beach."

He's so possessive with everything, help.

Actually, Kid likes one thing about the beach: he can brag about his big man boobies. No shirt, just his glorious bare, toned chest. Every time someone looks at him with jealousy or admiration, he feels so proud; his ego is never satisfied with this. He's perfectly aware of how shaped his torso is, and he's really proud of it. 

Every time someone looks at your body, he feels really pleased with himself. Even if they try, they won't be able to have you. But on the flip side, he's also upset when he realizes that everyone can see your beautiful shapes. His arm would be wrapped around your waist. All. The. Time. 

Kid being Kid, he would smash all the sandcastle made by the children. Prepare yourself to get in trouble with all the mad parents around there, while their children are crying because "the big scary man told me I'm a piece of shit who don't even know how to build a sandcastle" You better watch Kid tightly before he stuffs their mouths with some sand to make them shut up.

"Come on Kid, it's just a child." 

If you try beach sports, he will make everything a competition. Avoid playing volley beach with him, because if you team up and lose, he will smash the ball into the winner's face. "Now who's the loser?" 

If someone tries to sell him an ice cream, he would scowls madly. Does he look like someone licking some fucking ice balls full of sugar? Ugh. It's so ridiculous. 

He doesn't wear armbands because he thinks he's too good for them. "I don't care if I can't swim, I won't use those damn armbands." 

Honestly, Kid hates how weak he is in the water, so he would stay away from trouble. The ocean makes his voice weak, even his strength is leaving him. And, even if his eyeliner is waterproof, he doesn't want to risk ruining his make up. "I fucking hate water" 

Would end up using his DF to find some metal around and build something with it while you're swimming. It looks like he doesn't care, but secretly, he watches to make sure you're safe. And if you're drowning, then, he'll run to save you so yes, congrats, now you're drowning together. 

Luckily, Killer is not too far.

Killer deserves a break.

Sanji 

Oh, damn... going on a beach date with Sanji is not a good idea. All the women in swimsuits would overwhelm him. Sanji, as he is, wouldn't be able to handle all the women around him, even though you are the prettiest of all the people around.

But the moment you take off your clothes and replace them with your swimsuit, his eyes would be on you all the time because you're the most mesmerizing person in the whole universe. 

He's so proud to introduce you as his s/o to absolutely everyone, yes, even that one person sleeping peacefully under their parasol. "Have you seen how beautiful y/n is?" 

Of course, he would help you apply sunscreen to your skin. Enjoy the massage because his hands are so heavenly smooth and divine. He would clearly take advantage of the situation to place some soft kisses along your collarbone, shoulders, neck, jugular, and down your spines. 

It's clear that Sanji brought his own food to the beach. You can enjoy fresh drinks, ice cream, waffles, cakes, fresh salads, and juicy fruits just for you. He wouldn't let you buy some ice cream from the trader because it's probably disgusting, full of sugar and chemicals. Your body is a temple and cannot be contaminated by non-premium quality food. 

He's probably causing the parents to be angry because he's smoking. But Sanji is nice, so if it was asked politely, he wouldn't mind stubouting his cigarette. 

While you're tanning under the parasol, Sanji is probably laying next to you, with a book explaining all the fish he could buy in the town. 

If you decide to go swimming, of course, he's going with you. As the kind person he's, he wants to make sure you're safe, and if you uncomfortable with your body, he wouldn't mind using his own body as a shield, so no one but he can look at you. 

He's a pure romantic, so prepare yourself for some lovely hugs in the water, with him holding you tight and his hands roaming all over your wet skin. Sweet kisses on your neck. He's not against taking things further, but he's romantic and all the screaming children are ruining the mood. But during the night... yes, he's definitely not against swimming at midnight. 

And if he finds some ugly, green, gummy seaweeds, then, he'll take them back to the Sunny. "Marimo, don't let your children alone at the beach."

Zoro

"Oi, y/n, where are you?"

Well, have you already seen Finding Nemo? Remember about Marlin always asking "HAVE YOU SEEN MY SON?" Now, you're Marlin and Zoro is your Nemo. 

Do not leave him alone for more than two seconds. Do not leave him buying ice cream for the two of you. Otherwise, the date is ruined. The only thing you will do is ask everyone 'Have you seen a big man with big boobs and green hair?' 

Maybe he'll find the one piece before the end of the day.

"I wasn't lost, your indications weren't clear." 

Zoro's obliviousness means you need to pay close attention to him. Stay close to him and everything will be okay. He's in good shape, so people are probably looking at him with admiration, jealousy, or whatever thoughts come to mind. But he doesn't give a damn, and is probably thinking people are looking at you because you're mesmerizing in your swimsuit. 

He doesn't care about the people wearing swimsuits around him. It's not an event for him. "I won't nose bleed like this shitty twirled-brow." 

He thinks the beach is a good opportunity to train himself. While you're relaxing under the parasol, he's training in the sun. Burpees, push-ups, and even some yoga are used to work his breathing and stability. 

Once he's done, he's all sweaty and wants to swim a bit. If you don't follow him, he'll be swimming until he finds a new island. 

If you're too lazy to swim, he'd be okay with carrying you. If a jellyfish tries to bite your thigh, then, the poor creature is doomed and would end up as a dinner for the crew when you'll get back to the Sunny.

He prefers alcohol over ice cream, of course. It's the best thing to enjoy after swimming and training. While he's drinking, he likes when you rest your head against his chest. On the other hand, he's a bit flustered because Zoro cares about his privacy. But you're too cute, he can't push you away. 

Arms wrapped around your waist while you sleep together. Perfect date for Zoro: training and restlessness. No one would dare trying to steal your stuff because Zoro is used to standing guard on the Sunny, so he would react really quickly. 

At the end of the day, he got the biggest sunburn ever because he forgot to apply sunscreen. Poor Zoro.

Luffy

It's like going to the beach with your overly excited dog. 

He's yelling excitedly, jumping everywhere, laughing loudly, and oh, good luck, he's already running away. You tried to catch his wrist, but it just stretches his arm beyond its limits. Good luck in finding him. 

Well, honestly, if you want to find Luffy, just try to figure out where the food is. He's probably eating some waffles and ice cream, or more precisely, emptying all the stands of their food. 

"Oh Y/N, you're here?" He speaks with his mouth full, obviously. 

Luffy is selfish with food, but he would let you have the last waffle because he loves to see you smile. 

As Zoro, he doesn't give a damn about people in swimsuits. 

If a child has a better rubber ring than him, he's sad. "Y/N, we need to buy a better one! What about this one?" While displaying an extravagant beetle rubber.

He's so happy, with it. Prepare yourself to pull him out the water because while he's watching to find some fish or play with some seaweeds, he would end up falling overboard like the overexcited child he's. 

But drowning wouldn't destroy his joy. Be ready for the sandcastle episode after the rubber ring one. He wants to build the best one. But have you seen his nonexistent artistic skills? His creations wouldn't look great, that's all we can tell. Please, help him building a pretty sandcastle, he's so sad. Poor baby.

"Don't get a sunburn, y/n." While lending you his straw hat. 

"Y/N, have you seen those crabs? Y/N, have you seen how funny this seaweed is? Y/N, have you seen this stone? Oh, Y/N, this cloud looks like Zoro, don't you think?" 

He wants to catch all the crabs and winkles he can find. And would probably end up organizing a crab fight. If his favorite one loses, then the poor baby will be sad again. He's so fluffy when he pouts.

He is eager to try and do everything with you. So you better follow him, because going to the beach with Luffy means you'll never be able to rest peacefully under the parasol. He's too energized to sleep peacefully. 

And if you're sleeping, he would bury you under the sand, so when you wake up, your body is totally covered up, the only thing you can do is moving your toes and head while Luffy laughs loudly and proudly. His laugh is so endearing, you can't be angry with him.

"Gum-Gum… ice-cream stolen" 

Prepare to run away from the guy who is mad at him.

Overall? Not relaxing at all, but funny as hell.

Law

If Luffy is like an overexcited dog, Law is like a cat forced to bathe. Have you already tried bathing a cat? Do you end up with scratches? It's nothing compared to Law.

"Bepo, don't sharpen your claws on the deck!" "What? But it's not me. It's Law, Y/N decided to bring him to the beach. They had to drag him to the ground. 

Yes, Law probably hates the beach. It's a noisy place with noisy people, the food smells bad, the children are annoying, and the sand is irritating. And please, the sea is like the toilet for the fish and all those disgusting people. He's so pissed off to be here. 

"Why me, Y/N-ya?"

"Aren't you happy? The sun is beautiful today! You need to take some breaks from your work." 

His sole response would be an annoyed scowl. 

Ain't no way for him to wear a swimsuit. He's conserving all his clothing, even the hat. And he's standing under the parasol with his arms crossed. All the people around are probably avoiding him, and that's for the best because a 'room, shambles' could happen really fast if they dare to make a comment about his non-appropriate clothes. 

Law would remind you to apply sunscreen on a regular basis.  And he wouldn't mind applying it himself. He loves the feeling of your skin against his palms, it feels like heaven. 

He would remind you to drink water frequently. And to wet your neck before swimming. Certainly, he's watching closely the entire time. He may be mad, but he cares about you. Prepare yourself to have a shadow following you everywhere. If you're too far from him, he'll use his DF to bring you back to him.

"Please, help me, my child needs a doctor!" He's annoyed as hell. Even at the beach, work is still pursuing him. Of course, if someone asked for a doctor, he would help. He's frustrated because he can't take care of someone and keep an eye on you at the same time.

If you give him onigiri, he will look like a child: pouting while eating silently. 

"Y/n-ya, don't touch this, it's a toxic seaweed.", "y/n-ya, come here, you have to stay hydrated."

He would lend you his own hat if you forgot yours, while he's standing under the parasol. "Do not lose my hat." 

No swimming for him. He'll stay away from the cursed water. Just like Kid, ain't no way for him to wear armbands. And if you Try to throw some water on his face, he would look like a wet cat: shocked and angry. Beware, he yowls.

Overall? You had fun. And even if Law acts annoyed all the time, secretly, he would love to have a break day with you.  On his desk, he would keep the beautiful shell you found on the beach and give it to him.

[buckets-and-trees]

Don't Blame Me

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x f!Reader Word Count: 960 Summary: A chance encounter in the middle of the night in your kitchen.

Content Warnings: smut, vaginal penetration, some light drinking, tw: cheating/infidelity

Logistical Notes: A humble little offering for @nickfowlerrr's Seven Deadly Sins + Seven Holy Virtues writing event, though certainly no virtues to be seen here - just envy and lust.

Additional Notes: I'd been thinking of Bella's writing event for quite a while, but @biteofcherry tormented me with a very inspirational gif and fed me some naughty thots that I haven't been able to get out of my head. But finally tonight, this demanded to be told. Title taken from the Taylor Swift song of the same name as it's loosely based off some of its feelings/drives.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You hadn’t expected to have company in the kitchen when you’d left your room in only the loose tank top and panties you’d worn to bed, but you made no attempt to hide your body when you heard his footsteps quietly treading down the hallway because part of you wanted him to see.

As he rounded the corner, he flicked on the single light that hung lower over the center island counter, the soft glow illuminating you leaned up against it with a pint of ice cream and a spoon, and pouring over his shirtless form, dark sweatpants slung low on his hips.

“Oh, I didn’t – sorry,” he said softly, tugging his pants up a bit more, and averting his gaze sharply away from you.

“You’re fine. Don’t mind me.”

You watched as he turned away to grab a glass from the cupboard, longing to reach out and run your fingers over the muscles moving and stretching along his back.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be here tonight,” you pressed as he slotted the glass beneath the waterspout on the door of the fridge. “You have that giant presentation for the investors in the morning.”

Bucky sighed.

“Your girlfriend, my roommate, was specifically complaining about how you wouldn’t go out with her tonight because of it – which is perfectly reasonable by the way. You know that, right?”

He didn’t respond, still not looking at you, and then it was you who let out a sigh.

“Bucky, please tell me you didn’t go pick her up when she called.”

“Of course, I did, what else was I supposed to do?”

“You’re such an idiot.”

He finally rounded on you, his face a mixture of anger and hurt. “She was drunk at a bar, she needed me.”

“No, she didn’t! She went out with five of her old college friends – any of them should have taken care of her. She could have gotten an Uber. She could have called me, and I would have grudgingly been annoyed but gone and picked her up, even though I wanted to throw things at her when she left saying not to wait up because she was going to call you to go get her anyway because she knew you’d come because you’re the perfect boyfriend.”

Bucky clenched his jaw. “I’m not the perfect boyfriend.”

You scoffed. “Sure you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Why are you arguing with me about this?”

“Because I’m not the perfect boyfriend.”

You frowned.

He flexed his left hand in agitation, making the black plates quietly whir, but every sound in this nearly silent kitchen was loud. You could even hear the gentle, intermittent snores of your sleeping roommate down the hall, Bucky having left the door open when he came to the kitchen.

You looked from his beautiful vibranium arm back up to his piercing blue eyes.

“I want you to kiss me,” you breathed, barely above a whisper.

But you didn’t need to say it any louder.

His eyes darkened at your words. “I can’t.”

“You can,” you said, taking a step closer to him. “Please just kiss me.”

“Fuck,” he whispered when you placed one hand on his shoulder and one tentatively on his waist.

You closed the space between the two of you and tilted your head up, offering your waiting lips to him.

“Please, please kiss me.”

He didn’t move, which meant he also didn’t move away.

“Bucky, I know how you look at me now. You didn’t at first, but you’re bored of little miss perfect, you want imperfection, you want reality, you want me as much as I crave you.”

He dropped his forehead to yours, shutting his eyes. “Don’t.”

You pressed your chest flush up against his. “Just one kiss.”

“It won’t be just one kiss,” he shot back so quickly your stomach flipped, and you couldn’t hold back.

You surged up and captured his lips. His hands flew up to grip either side of you head, and it would have been tender if not for the heat and rage and longing that fueled it, causing him to hold you a little more firmly. You moaned into the kiss, and he backed your hips up to the counter, then lifted your hips up onto the granite countertop. You leaned back, bracing your hands on the smooth surface behind you. You drew your legs up around the backs of his thighs to pull him close, his legs stopping against the island, and you dragging your pelvis to the very edge, pressing your cunt against the bulge in his sweatpants. He broke off the kiss, his head dropping back on a groan of pleasure.

Desire was desperately coursing through you, you had wanted this man more and more over the past months, every friendly interaction only seeping deeper and deeper into your heart.

But adrenaline and bitterness also fanned the flames of your need.

Because it was likely she’d gotten plastered enough to sleep clean through anything until morning.

But she could wake up and come out here and see you like this as you kissed her boyfriend and pushed his sweats and boxer briefs down to free his cock. She could hear him growl into your mouth, licking against your tongue in an eagerness to taste more of you, pulling your panties off so quickly.

He only broke away from the kiss long enough to line up his cock, and then he shot into you, reclaiming your lips to swallow a sharp cry from you.

You’d been fueled by lust, but sustained by longing.

This was so much more than one kiss.

And as you clutched onto his shoulders – one metal and one flesh – you knew this would not be the end of it.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[little-lost-lamb]

The Sting of Envy Pt. 2

CW: GN!MC, hurt/comfort, angst, occult practice, fluff, Demons Being Overall Taller Than Humans On Average, Mention of Israeli food, and - of course - jealousy. Please let me know if there is anything I didn't think to add!

<- Part 1

I want to thank everyone for their support of my first part! I've been out of the writing game for a long time, and it really helped motive me to continue!

_____________________________________________________________

Beelzebub 

Beelzebub tells anyone who asks that his favorite food is cheeseburgers, but this is not quite true. His favorite food is your cooking. So when you keep serving him warm, fresh-baked bread and crispy spinach salad topped with handpicked flowers and nuts and creamy, piping hot wild mushroom risotto and seconds and thirds and FOURTHS, he is in the Celestial Realm. He supposed the menu was carefully thought out, showcasing ingredients locally in season for the spring. He loved human realm food. It reminded him of you, and not just because it’s native the human realm - human cuisine had the capacity for both the sinful and the divine. Just like you. And so, the meal had him nearly moaning in ecstasy against his spoon.

“This is incredible, MC.” Solomon says, meticulously scooping a perfectly balanced bite of rice, cheese, mushroom, and chive. “This is even better than the risotto we had in that little place in Rome. What was that place called?” Solomon looks at you and thoroughly cleans the risotto off his spoon with his mouth. You laugh.

“Solomon, no, no way! That stuff was next level!”

Solomon shrugs before going in for another bite off his plate. “I’m telling you, yours is better.”

“When were you in Rome?” Lucifer inquires, cocking his head with interest. “When did you have the time?”

“Couple Tuesdays ago, I think.” Solomon muffled between bites while Barbatos shot him a look that told him to chew before speaking. Solomon shrugged it off. “Sometimes when we feel like eating out, we’ll go wherever the cuisine strikes our fancy. MC takes me to this Israeli restaurant in New York City about every other week!”

Beel’s brow furrows as he goes in for another bite. It sounds like before you left, what you and he used to do together. Schedule permitting, you were always down to take him wherever his stomach led him. Hell’s Kitchen for the third time that week? Sure! That brand new place with the deep fried vampire bats on sticks? You bet! They restocked flame-charred bone flavored ice cream at the stand down the street from RAD? You might even be willing to skip Chaos Theory to go with him! 

Your foodie dates were one of his all-time favorite things you did together.

“Pfft. You know I can’t do teleportations that big or that frequently yet. You take me.”

Like how Beel would take you all over town, farther if they had some spare time, to try all that the demon realm had to offer. You couldn’t always eat it, you didn’t always like it, but you were always down to try demon cuisine. Try new things in general. He loved that about you.

“Agree to disagree.” Solomon leaned a little closer to you. “I just appreciate you escorting me on so many dates.”

You shrug nonchalantly. “I’m just in it for the falafel.” 

Solomon chuckles and smiles fondly at you. He gently tucks a pesky piece of hair behind your ear, keeping it from flying into your mouth with your bread. “Try the hamin next time. I think you’ll like it.”

The heat rose in Beel cheeks, and he subtly sighed out some of his frustration through his nostrils. He glances briefly over to Belphie, and they communicate something to each other with their eyes. Finally, Beel puts his spoon down and Belphie shrugs, picking up another bite with his own.

“I’m done.” Beel says softly.

Not full. Never full. Done.

After everyone has finished with ample time for conversation, you shuffle back to the kitchen to get the desserts. You had prepared an assortment of fresh berries and cream with honey cakes. 

“Beel! Can you help me carry this?” You shout, and you lean casually against the counter to wait for him.

“Carry what?” Beel walks in to help and looks around for the heavy item only for his eyes to fall on the light-weight desserts. “Just…need some extra hands?” Beel asks as he reaches for the dish, but you stop him with a hand on his.

“Are you okay? You didn’t eat much.” You look up into his face, recognizing sadness in it. 

“I ate 5 or 6 plates.”

You raise an eyebrow. Beel sighs, gently reaching for your hand and holding it firmly in his own to ground himself.

“You don’t…like the food here more than in the devildom, do you?”

Your brows furrow with concern. “You…know I do. Most of it won’t kill me.”

Beelzebub shakes his head quickly. “My fault, bad question. New question: do you enjoy…” Beel’s voice cracks ever so slightly. “Do you like eating with Solomon more? You know…than me?”

Yours eyes widen in horror and your heart cracks. All you can think to do is throw yourself into his enormous frame. You bury your face into the soft fabric of the shirt before turning your head to speak, still resting your cheek against his quickly-thumping chest. 

“You’re upset because you and I go out on foodie tours and stuff too, right? It’s our thing.”

“It’s our thing.” Beel answered, wrapping his arms around you firmly. You feel the point of his chin rest against the top of your head.

“And it will always be our thing. Solomon and I eat out so often out of necessity. I don’t always have the energy to focus on planning and making our meals, and the man can’t cook, Beel. Then the human realm's food will kill me.”

You got a smile out of Beel on that one.

“But with you, we go out, and we shove things I once couldn’t even conceptualize down my gullet. You show me fun and fantastical foods I wouldn’t try on my own. That I couldn’t try. We don’t have that stuff here. It’s an experience. You are an experience. And you’re my favorite.”

You lean back just a little, separating only enough to see a wide grin and misty eyes. You reach over and stick your clean finger into the bowl of cream before smearing it playfully on Beel’s lips. 

“Oops!” You exclaim, smearing it on his lips. You raise up and squish the cream against Beels lips with your own. You hear a dreamy sigh from him before he pulls away and licks his lips. A giddy giggle escapes his creamy mouth. He reaches for the cream too, except he takes a thick glob and smears it from your cheek, across your mouth, and down your neck. 

“Oops.”

He starts with your neck.

Belphegor

They said to make himself at home, so he will, thank you very much. Now where was MC’s bed?

He passes the bathroom and opens the knob to a door nearby, figuring this was probably it, and he pushes it open with the subtle crack of the doorframe. He is immediately punished with a wave of Solomon’s scent - a musky mix of exotic spice and  incense smoke. Yours was thickly mixed into the sorcerers, the fusion of smells emanating from one bed in the center of the room. 

No. 

Belphie suddenly feels the irritated flick of his tail and the weight of his horns that have appeared against his will on his body. Shove it down, Belphegor.

He peels himself from the glue that binds his feet to the doorway and steps hesitantly into the room. The room reeks of Solomon, and not just from his scent. Glistening suncatchers whimsically dangle from the ceiling, one wall is adorned with old, dusty books from floor to ceiling, magical trinkets rest precariously on the edges of drawers, nightstands, and any other surface, and plants large and small sprout from the pots scattered around the room. There are countless empty mugs he has forgotten to bring back down to the kitchen shoved onto any previously vacant surface.

Belphie’s attention moves from one piece of junk to the next before focusing on the bed itself. It looked to be what the humans call a “full sized” bed, big enough for two humans to fit, though Belphie figures it’s only as big as he and Beel’s beds back home. Must be a tight squeeze for two. The fluffy blankets are crumpled disproportionately to one side while the other side is draped primarily with just the sheet. He presses a palm into the mattress and it sinks less readily than Belphie would like in a nest. He pictured the two of you picking it out together. 

“Now, MC,” Solomon would say in his smarmy tone, “It’s best to have a mattress that is somewhat firm. It deters one from oversleeping, and it will be good for your spine in the long run. Trust me, I know from experience that you’ll wish you had taken better care of your bones when you’re old.”

Belphie groans at the thought before dipping down into the side that smells most like you. Your scent is thick and fresh, as if you had slept there just last night. Belphie snarls and immediately jumps up, the propulsion of the springs hastening his movement.

I bet he doesn’t even take the time to nestle into their pillows Belphie thought to himself as he glared daggers at the side that smelled more like Solomon. To inhale their pheromones and feel enveloped their scent and appreciate it. 

Since you left, it wasn’t uncommon to catch even Lucifer resting in your bed on occasion. They were all guilty of it. It still retained your scent, and the brothers found that comforting late at night when they cannot escape their respective longing for you. Recently, though, the aroma has begun dissipating, a combination of time and the brothers’ own smells erasing your scent clinging to the fabrics. Belphie had been excited to take a few moments at least to dive into your sheets and smother himself with your scent. He could bring it home with him and savor it for at least a week if he didn’t wash his jacket. He could cling to the hoodie he wears tonight during his slumber and pretend you were still there with him, nestled against his body and in his bed. But it turns out the scent of your bed was contaminated.

Fortunately for his sanity, he didn’t smell certain hormones or fluids or anything to indicate any funny business happened between the two of you in these sheets. That’s for the best. If Belphie had been hit with the scent of lust mixed with the scents of the two of you, he thinks he would have vomited directly on your comforter.

“Did you find my bed? I knew you’d go looking for it.” You tease, clutching the rail as you stare innocently at him from the stairs. 

“Uhm. Yeah. I found it.” Belphie turns to face you from the room, and his eyes motion to the bed in front of him. He makes no attempt to hide the displeasure on his face. Surprise answers it on your own.

“Nope, that’s Solomon’s room.”

“I can smell you, MC.” Belphie’s eyes narrow as he  replies, pointing to the side piled with blankets, “You sleep on the left.”

“I hang out on the left.” You say, climbing the last few steps and joining him in Solomon’s room, “but I don’t sleep here, not usually anyway. I pass out sometimes, but we just watch shows and play games here a lot.” 

You point casually at the TV shoddily hung on Solomon’s wall opposite the bed. Wires poke haphazardly out the bottom and trail their way to a couple of consoles buried in junk beneath.

“There’s this cartoon I’ve been obsessed with recently that makes me think of you, actually. It’s about these kids who are cute little animals, and they go to camp on a magical island. It’s so soft and cozy and comforting…I keep falling asleep when I turn it on. I wish I could watch it with you. Maybe next time I’m in the demon realm, we can set it up in the attic.”

You pap on his bicep and signal him to follow you, flowing from Belphie’s side, out Solomon’s door, and to a second door Belphie had yet to open. 

Oh.

As you push the door in, a current of your sweet smell crashes like a wave over Belphie’s face. Your scent is like an intoxicating mixture of coffee, books, whiskey, and sugar all mixed together. You smell like home. A contented smile forms and he makes his way to you, careful to seal Solomon’s scent away with the bedroom door on his way out. 

You’re suddenly thrusted into a brief whirlwind of confusion as you’re grappled by Belphie, knocked off your feet and plopped down unharmed into the comfort of your bed. Your bed is the opposite of Solomon's: soft, fluffy, warm, and oozing with you smells. Belphie raises himself up to gaze at you lovingly before playfully nuzzling his face into your neck and inhaling deeply. He releases his breath with a satisfied sigh and melts himself into you. 

“Much better.”

He peppers your cheek with soft, sleepy kisses until he has you a grinning, giggling mess. 

“Let’s take a nap until dinner is ready. Barbatos can finish the rest.”

Barbatos

This was not part of Barbatos’ plan, but he could reassess and regroup. After all, this was only temporary. He would assure that.

Step 1: Serve Lord Diavolo to the best of his ability while he brings about the integration and unity of the three realms.

Step 2: Assure the swift and successful coronation of Lord Diavolo. King Diavolo. 

Step 3: With King Diavolo’s rule solidified and the King’s word absolute, any dissension against angels or humans in the devildom would not be tolerated. The streets of the demon realm would be safer - safer for you to reside in the devildom permanently.

Step 4: With the realm made a better place for you, you live with him, in his care, for the rest of your days. He thought perhaps an emerald in the ring would be best, accented with black diamonds. He had not yet decided whether silver or gold would look best for your band, but he was more than happy to admire you for as long as it took to decide what best suited your coloration.

For now, however, his face remains unwaveringly pleasant as he silently makes note of the dusty floorboards and spattered kitchen counters. He knows Solomon. Solomon doesn’t clean. Not to Barbatos’ standards for your living accommodations, anyway. He watches silently for a few moments as you work alone in your kitchen, smaller than he thought you deserved to have access to. It would have bothered him that Solomon offered no help had Barbatos not also known  he would have rendered each and every item on the menu inedible. All your hard work ruined.

You see him because he allows you to see him. While his presence would ordinarily be welcomed, today your cheeks flush in shame.

“Listen, I know it’s not the cleanest.” You shyly return your attention to the onion you skillfully chop against the cutting board. “I haven’t really had the time to deep clean, not with lessons and work and preparing for the party and…” You trail off, exhaustion lacing your voice. Your eyes seem misty.

“Please, MC, allow me to help. Do the mushrooms still need to be sliced?” Without waiting for an answer, Barbatos swiftly saunters over, scoops the mushrooms off the counter beside you, and drops them gently on the counter in front of himself. One mushroom considers bouncing off the counter, but decides it wouldn’t dare under Barbatos’ watchful eye. You realize your face must betray your emotion.

“Barbatos, I’m fine, really. It’s just the onion.” You point to the onion with your chef knife, and you plead, “you are my guest. I won’t make you work.”

“I am your friend.” He responds, his face focused on the task in front of him as he reaches for the utility knife in your set. He begins quickly and expertly chopping the mushrooms into perfect, uniform slices. “And you are overwhelmed. Your home is dirty because Solomon does not help you with cleaning like he should, yes?”

You remain silent for a moment, considering if you should out Solomon for not doing his share. Barbatos does not allow you to refute it.

“It has been centuries,” Barbatos interjects your thoughts before you can argue. “but Solomon was once royalty. He is independent now, yes, but he never learned how to clean as he should. I fear he is slipping back into the comfort of being taken care of without taking care of you in return.”

You look up at him, and for a moment, you think you see the flash of a scowl before his expression is once again carefully moderated. You had seen it because he had allowed you to see it.

“And of course,” he continued, “you must be doing all of the cooking as well. If he had any part in it, you would certainly be dead by this point.” He finally glanced us at you, his lip curling ever so slightly into a playful smirk. 

The joke catches you off guard and you honk out a laugh.

“One time,” you say through your laughter “I caught him trying to clean the bathroom with bleach and ammonium. Unreal. The man is a master alchemist, and yet he accidentally makes mustard gas in the toilet!”

Barbatos laughs earnestly along and shakes his head. He finishes the last mushroom with a flourish and plops the pieces into a bowl, ready for their future use. He turns around and leans his tall frame against your small counter, assessing your space for a few moments. 

“If I were Solomon,” he mused, almost to himself, “I would ensure your accommodations were immaculate. I would prepare you healthy, delicious meals. Perhaps I would allow you to join me in the kitchen, if only for us to spend the time together. And I see your garden needs attention. I would gladly serve you tea made from those rose petals there once I had finished with the pruning.” He speaks wistfully.

You chuckle. “It does sound nice to be taken care of every once in a while. What with the brothers and Solomon, I can be spread pretty thin. Not a lot left to take care of myself, you know?”

“Perhaps one day, I’ll have the pleasure of doing it for you.” Your eyes widen and your cheeks flush. You look up at him, and he gives you a knowing glance. You hated when he did this. You always wonder: is he teasing, or does he know?

“I have not looked into your future if that is what you are wondering…though I admit, I have considered it once or twice.” You turn to face him fully, the surprise evident on your face. Barbatos chuckles and looks you right in the eyes. “It would ruin the sweet surprise. It will happen because I will make it happen. Your current arrangement is temporary, I assure you.”

Before you can comprehend what is happening, the soft fabric of his gloves are against your cheeks, the warmth of his hands permeating through. He leans in slowly and lovingly plants a petal-soft kiss on the tip of your nose. He holds himself there a moment. You hold your breath until he lets go.

“Now, what do we do with these mushrooms?”

Diavolo

“Yeah, I’ve been doing well!” Lie. “It’s kind of nice to be home, you know?” Lie. “It’s refreshing to be around my own species again.” That one was presented as a joke, but it was still, factually, a lie. Did you usually lie this much? Diavolo hadn’t noticed if you had. And he would have noticed.

It was ultimately his fault, and he understood that. The devildom was under his rule, and had his whims overtaken him, he could have ordered you to stay. It just wasn’t time. Not yet. There was still so much work to be done.

Step 1: Bring about the integration and unity of the three realms.

Step 2: His swift and successful coronation.

Step 3: With his rule solidified and the King’s word absolute, no one would dare go against him when he appoints you as Human Ambassador to the demon realm. With such an important position within the new government system, so much as a finger lifted against you would be treason in his book. He would make the realm safe for you.

Step 4: Argue to the council that it is a political marriage. 

That’s the dream that keeps Diavolo going, anyway. His golden orbs lift from the mushrooms he unceremoniously shoves to the side of his plate (subtly, so he didn’t hurt your feelings, of course) over to Barbatos, who watches you with a genuine smile as you speak. What were you saying? Something about a stray cat? Back down to the mushrooms.

He knew the likelihood of this plan succeeding was low - just a dream to keep him working at his goal of unification. What will probably happen is that he will have a spouse chosen for him. Someone he might not yet know, whoever the council sees as the most advantageous choice. Likely a female, as is tradition. Likely traditionally pretty, the boring kind of pretty. Barbatos would intervene only enough to ensure he doesn’t dislike his appointed queen. Maybe Diavolo would even grow to love them one day. But it isn’t what he wants. Who he wants. He would be expected to produce a line of heirs - full-blood demon heirs - and cambion mutts just wouldn’t do. Not his words, of course. That’s what the tabloids said the last time the two of you were seen in public together. They called you his concubinatus. The writer of the article is longer there. No one knows where they are now except Barbatos.

“There's not really anything preventing MC from marrying me, right? Since we’re both humans and all." Solomon’s words echo in Diavolo’s mind, his smug grin still burned into the back of Diavolo’s retinas. The brothers had been more than willing to marry you into the devildom, but Diavolo had not allowed it. If anyone was going to marry you in, it was going to be him. He knew the likelihood of your union going smoothly was slim, but it would not stop him from trying. He was not above monopolizing you. He was the demon lord, not the lord of selflessness. But you were out of his hands here and settled in Solomon’s. He couldn’t stand it.

“Do you think you’ll ever get married, MC?” He later asks you casually as he helps you prepare the bonfire. Barbatos had half-heartedly attempted to dissuade him, as his suit could get dirty, but Diavolo insisted. He hadn’t gotten any alone time with you today, and he likely wouldn’t see you again for a while. He didn’t care about some frivolous suit. You drop the stick you’re holding, but it tumbles into the fire pit, so you figure you can leave it be. 

“Where did that come from?” Your flushed face is camouflaged well by the fading sunset. You quickly grab another bundle to continue building the fire. Diavolo casually swirls the wine in his goblet and peers in, probably inspecting some aspect of the wine that you have no eye for. The sunset hides his own flush from the alcohol. He remained silent, expecting an answer.

“U-Uhm. I suppose that depends on if I find the right person.” You fumble with a few sticks in your grasp before dumping them beside the fire. You crouch down and begin strategically arranging the sticks around lumps of kindling. 

Truth.

“Could you…” Perhaps he shouldn’t ask you this. He’s admittedly afraid of the answer. “...see yourself marrying Solomon?”

“What?”

Silence.

“I…” You thought for a moment, laughed, and shook your head. “I don’t think so.”

LIE. 

Diavolo expertly shoots the rest of his wine like it wasn’t at least half a goblet.

“We aren’t together or anything, if that’s what you’re trying to figure out. You aren’t being very subtle, you know.” You tease.

This was true.

“I guess I could see marrying Solomon if things didn’t work out, but…there’s someone I have my eye on.” You shove some dry grass between the logs, trying to hide behind your task.

True. 

“I don’t see how it would work. I don’t think I would be anywhere near his radar, but…” Perhaps it’s the sunset, perhaps it’s the wine swimming around in your blood, but you felt a bit bold. You look up, directly into his eyes, slightly luminous in the encroaching darkness of the night. “...The heart wants what the heart wants.”

Oh shit, wait, what? Are you coming on to him? Right now?

“Do…I know this person?” Perhaps it’s the wine he just downed, but he too is feeling bold. The corner of his lip quivers ever so slightly in the attempt to hide a grin threatening to spread across his face, just in case he’s wrong. But he doesn’t think so. 

“You do.” You stand up and dust your hand off on your pants.

Truth.

He tries to bite his lip to keep his face in line, but his lip rolls beneath his fangs and the corners of his eyes crinkle. The way you’re looking at him, there’s no way he’s misinterpreting it. You take a shy step closer, your eyes flit from his eyes to his fangs and quickly back up.

“Is it…me?” Diavolo asks playfully, now inches from your face.

“No.” You shrug. You casually toss a few more sticks into the fire pit.

With a snap of his fingers, the fire is lit. It roars to life and lights up your faces, your goofy grins and reddened cheeks on full display. The warmth of the blaze is matched only by the warmth of Diavolo’s arms snaking around your waist. 

“Liar.”

His mouth envelops yours in an instant.

______________________________________________________________

@dokidokidemons, @ourfinalisation

[singmyaubade]

hi!! i was wondering if you could write a smutty story about sub!james? literally anything, pls🙏🏻

warning: mentions of smut and cursing

sub!james x female!reader

a/n: i did not proofread, i'm sorry if this was not what you were expecting LOL.

james never had any performance issues in his life.

he always managed to be a stallion in bed, giving nothing less and everything more. being a 'sex god,' in his own words, was one of the things he always took pride in.

it was his wings, the only thing that could cheer him up when all else failed.

if quidditch was his first passion, snogging girls was a definite second.

so when ruby weathers, a girl with the best bum in james's year, gives him a chance to sleep with her.

he has no choice but to.

james was ecstatic, practically jumping off of the walls. this was his moment, his opportunity once again to prove himself. there wasn't a single nerve in his body; he never underestimated his more large and not-so-average buddy down there.

before he knew it, he was in his perfect bedroom with weathers, relishing her getting on her knees to suck his cock.

and then, everything came to a halt.

after twenty minutes of her doing that, his buddy refused to get up. he felt the arousal, but his mind and cock were in different places.

after she complained about her jaw locking for the twenty-second time, he decided to get straight to the point. but even when he fucked her, he couldn't get hard.

eventually, ruby just told him awkwardly that it was okay and things clearly weren't working despite him asking her to try a few things. they didn't even exchange last words before she left.

and when she did, he was embarrassed, frustrated, in fact.

he didn't think weathers was the type to tell people's sex business or even gossip for that face.

he knew he was wrong when sirius came urgently yelling, "prongs, your dick is broken?!"

and that was, for sure, the icing on the cake.

he tried everything that didn't involve taking a particular little pill to perform.

he tried spells, teas, and even a massage, but nothing worked. he even thought he was attracted to other things, but it was no point.

eventually, his friends were all sensing his depression. he couldn't even play quidditch properly.

marlene, who felt no sympathy at all, even tried to cheer up james, but it was a loss. he completely lost himself through the entire thing, and yes, it might have been stupid for some people, but it meant a lot to him.

but then dorcas pulled him aside.

"go to the room written here on saturday after lunch," dorcas handed him the card. he looked at her, entirely confused, raising his eyebrow.

"i have a friend who helps with that kind of stuff," she tilted her head, "but don't tell anyone where you are going, and make sure to tell her that i sent you," she instructed to which he nodded and muttered a thank you before dorcas rushed off.

and when saturday after lunch was right there, he didn't know what to do, his fist knocking on your door lightly.

then he saw you, yawning when you opened the door. your hair perfectly laid, wearing a matching pink tank top and shorts that hugged your thighs most comfortably. your nipples were perked up through your tank top, making him swallow.

"eyes are up here, pretty boy." you tased as his face grew red.

"m’sorry," he stuttered, "i was told to uh- i mean, dorcas sent me here."

you looked at him questioningly, "and why did she do that?" you asked, pursing your lips.

"she said you could help me with my uh problem," he whispered, looking around.

"golden boy having a problem that i have to fix?" you tsked, smirking, "interesting." you moved aside to let him, walking to your own bed.

he took that opportunity to look at your ass which was 'bloody fantastic,' he thought. he stood there gawking at you, not knowing if he should come in.

"you coming in or?" you flattered, to which he came in immediately, shutting the door.

he stood there like a scarecrow before you giggled, "come sit with me," you patted the spot next to you on the bed.

he nervously fiddled with his fingers as you placed your hand on his hand to calm him down, "what problems are you having?"

he stayed silent, clearly embarrassed, "james," you grabbed his chin so he looked at you, "i'm here to help you, not judge you,"

he took a deep breath, "i am having trouble during sex."

"what kind of problems?" you asked, using your thumb to brush his fingers.

"i can't get hard," he admitted, looking down.

he was prepared for you to laugh, even mock him for having such a stupid problem, but you still maintained a compassionate face.

"okay," you said, "and when did you start having that problem," you asked.

"two weeks ago," he muttered.

"and have you tried anything new? maybe something new in your sex life?" you suggested.

"i've tried everything i can think of; it's just not happening." he was frustrated.

"okay then let's try everything you haven't thought of." you half-joked.

"like what?" he asked, making eye contact with you.

"hmm," you tapped your chin, "first things first, are you more dominant or submissive?"

"uh," he said, genuinely not knowing.

"okay that's fine, i'll find out," you replied, sounding sure.

"and are you okay with being intimate with me?" you asked.

he could feel his face turning bright red, "y-yeah that's fine, i mean if you are fine with it but if you're not, its okay, i do-"

you kissed him, cutting him off. your tongue entangling his, hand on his thigh. you grabbed his hand, putting it on your breast as his other hand went to your cheek.

you pulled away from him as he whimpered, "what do you want me to do, james?" you asked.

"i don't know," he answered, drunk off your lips.

"can i suck you off, baby?" you asked, your eye contact ripping him into pieces.

"y-yes." he answered nervously as you got onto your knees.

you touched his belt, unbuckling it as you reached up to kiss him one last time. you palmed him through his boxers, not feeling him get hard yet, but you were patient.

you pulled him soft out of his boxers, stroking him fully. he was big even soft which you admit made you dripping in your panties.

your tongue did a long stripe on his cock, making him moan. you sucked on his tip first, putting your hand on his thigh as his hand palmed into a fist.

you put him deeper in your mouth, letting him hit the back of your throat as he whined. you grabbed his hand, unfisting it, interlocking your hand in his.

you continued bobbing your head up and down his length, your other hand stroking whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth.

james continued holding your hand, holding it tighter when you sucked his tip.

"is it good, jamie?" you asked, breathing a bit hard.

"so good," he whimpered.

that's when you finally felt him getting hard, when you talked to him.

"you are doing so well for me," you complimented, "you are being so good."

he groaned at your words as you continued sucking him off, him being fully erect now.

"so big," you managed to say with his cock inside your mouth.

his cock twitched inside your mouth and you knew he was near when he gripped your hand tightly.

"you can do it," you muffled through his cock, the vibrations sending him.

james closed his eyes, leaning his head back before cumming inside of your mouth.

"i wanna kiss you," he whined as you smiled, kissing him with his cum inside of your mouth as it slobbed over both of your chins.

your mouth invaded his as he moaned inside of your mouth. his hands touched your top, tugging at it. you could tell that he wanted it off of you.

"you wanna take off my top for me, jamie?" you asked as he nodded.

you let him take your top off as you straddled his lap, him latching on your nipple as soon as he could which earned a moan from you. his spit all over your chest, your nipples swollen.

you raised off of him for a second to take off your shorts as he looked at you in awe with his big, brown eyes.

you straddled him again, aligning his cock with your hole. he continued sucking on your nipple as you sat down on him and he groaned.

"fuck," you said, "stretching me out."

he was hardening inside of you again, getting drunk off of your pussy.

he whimpered as he hit the spongy spots inside of you. you started a slow speed and once it stopped stinging, you went faster.

he held onto your body tightly, not letting you go. he mewled the faster you went, his cock twitching inside of you due to the immense pleasure.

"so needy baby," you moaned, bouncing up and down.

he hit the perfect spot inside of you as you tried not to grow hazed in pleasure.

"i can't hold it in, mommy." he said, you being a bit surprised at his wording.

"it's okay baby," you soothed, "you can cum." you smoothed the back of his hair.

you kept riding him until he came, not worried about your release. he came with a whimper, sensitive.

"i wanna taste you mommy," he groaned with you still inside of him as he softened inside of you.

"next time jamie, this was for you right now," you grinned, kissing him delicately on his lips.

you tried letting him go but his grip on you was still there, not wanting you to leave.

"i'm not gonna go anywhere," you calmed, him still inside of you.

"i just wanna cuddle for a while," he said.

"okay, we can do that." you gave him a reassuring smile, laying the both of you down, entangled in each other as you gave a peck to his nose.

your eyes fluttered closed as james admired you.

and before he slept, he knew that he definitely owed dorcas his life.

[lo1k-diamonds]

SX Seoul Series | Jimin Entry 💜 Like Crazy

GIF by cordiallyfuturedwight

PAIRING: Jimin x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You let your desires run wild and things got too far while figuring out the choreography for Jimin's next single. You thought it was best to pretend it never happened, but he decided to chase you, hoping to set things right.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

GENRE: strangers to lovers, smut, soft but filthy (?)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: pwp (porn w/ plot really), mentions of drinking, misunderstandings, unprotected sex (wrap it up), semi-public sex, Jimin loses control and I find that endearing, light sub/dom with the reader being the dom, oral (f), hand job, edging, playing with cum, squirting, riding, breast worship & play, multiple orgasms, praise kink

A.N. 2024 started with the thoughts that inspired this fic, and writing it, I don't know. Jimin matched this energy perfectly, I can't explain it. Hopefully, you'll agree 💜

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Jimin went quickly up the stairs while lowering his head under the drizzle. He ignored the people near the railing lining up, only glancing to confirm the presence of the lighted ice-blue stripes on the wall: SX.

He raised his head in time to face the bouncer, who recognized him and let him in immediately, but only relaxed fully once he was in the club’s lobby. There he shook the traces of rain off his black leather jacket before running his hands a couple of times through his hair, smoothing and rippling the dark strands simultaneously.

People laughing and chatting went around him to enter the club proper and he glanced but kept his head low. He knew the club’s owner and knew he tried to keep that club room on the exclusive side — to the entertainment industry — but to Jimin, that was a double-edged sword. On one side, that meant he was sure to find you there, on the other he risked being recognized by what were essentially colleagues and friends. 

He released a breath to soothe himself and brushed his hair one last time before going in. Not that it mattered, he concluded, as the flashing lights and loud music made his eyes blink and bones vibrate. He was free to go to a club whenever he wanted, regardless of who spotted him. What mattered was to find you.

His first searches in between the crowd were unsuccessful, so he neared the bar and asked for a drink. As he waited, he instantly turned to try his luck again only for the owner himself to recognize him and chat him up.

Jimin was polite, talking easily about how busy he was working on his solo work that would be out soon.

“The vibe kind of reminds me of this place,” he offered with a smile, taking the martini to his lips after swirling the twist of lemon peel inside.

The conversation didn’t last long and when the owner had to give his attention elsewhere, Jimin was finally free to let his thoughts overrun him. He needed to find you, and fast.

He knew you’d be there, he heard you scheduling it with the other dancers earlier. Earlier—

He almost choked thinking about it, the lights making him dizzy for a moment as he put the glass down on the bar counter.

What was he doing? Chasing you like that? Maybe he was crazy. What would that accomplish? What if you would just mock him? For—

Oh shit, his stomach twisted. What if you had already told everyone?

Damn it, he shouldn’t have let it play out like that. But he was genuinely powerless then, so out of it he only remembered being relaxed and molded to the hardwood floor beneath him.

“Good job,” you had told him in a velvety tone, lips hovering above his just after a sensual quiet laugh had snapped him away from his shock.

Were you mocking him then? No, he didn’t think so. But he was getting out of a high, so could he trust his judgment? And in a second you were no longer straddling him, but gone. He had sat up as quickly as he could only to see the door closing behind you, blocking him from calling your name. And then he glanced down at his crotch only to be confronted with—

He snapped his head back; that red smudge at the corner of his eye, was that you?! He was turning to the dance floor with his drink to drown his sorrows when he thought he saw you entering the room, and he was right! You were with friends, laughing and having fun, and his guts instantly twisted like he had to barf.

But he took deep breaths and calmed down. He knew you — you weren’t like that. He had to trust that. He glanced at you again, at your genuine smile, and wondered what your eyes would tell him if he faced you. Were you proud? Amused? Indifferent?

He forced himself to face the bar and drank the rest of the martini in one go before facing himself in the mirror behind the displayed bottles. This was his life, he was in control of it. He was there for a reason and he was going to do it.

He went straight for you, something similar to a tunnel narrowing his vision. His heart was racing deafeningly inside his chest, to the point he wondered where the music had gone, and then he touched your shoulder.

You turned around and your eyes widened right before you chucked and he thought his heart stopped.

“I thought you had enough dancing for today,” you asked cheekily after a small bow of your head, impermeable to his paleness and breathlessness.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

His voice was quiet and you had the distinct impression he was hiding, which instantly set your nerves on high alert. “Of course. What is it?”

He hesitated, and at that instant, you knew everything was fucked. “It’s… it’s private. I’d prefer it if we go somewhere quiet.”

Your stomach fell to the floor, but you still nodded. What else could you do? He was still the artist hiring you.

He waved at you to follow him and you did, instantly chastising yourself for being nonchalant about everything. But what else could you do? Jimin was a fucking star, you doubted any of it mattered. He’d play it cool and—

He stopped by the bar to speak to a bald guy you had the impression was the bar owner, but you didn’t listen. Jimin wanted to talk in private, and after what had happened, you could only think of one thing he wanted to say.

Of course, he would fire you. He was so keen on doing it, that once he spotted you, he couldn’t let it go or wait for Monday. And of course he wouldn’t, you should have known. You had totally lost face after going overboard like that.

The bald guy spoke with another bartender before waving at Jimin to follow him, to which Jimin glanced at you before going after him. There was a door in the mirror wall beside the bar and it led to a corridor. The house music was halved there already but you didn’t pay attention to the owner’s indications; you only followed Jimin, even after the bar door closed behind you.

It wasn’t that Jimin had to play it cool or that you expected him to because he was a star, you argued in your thoughts. Not even because you thought that happened to him all the time or anything like that, just—

You heaved a deep breath, settling things with yourself — it was just tension. Tension was meaningless to someone like him, that was all. That was what you thought, and that wasn’t a crime. The arguable crime was what you did before.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, you concluded, following after Jimin in silence. But who were you kidding, you absolutely should not have. You would soon have a brilliant ten-year career as a dance coordinator. Risking it in the spur of the moment was possibly the dumbest shit you had ever done. The problem was that it never felt like you were risking anything.

You were experimenting with the choreography. During the second verse of the song, a parallelism should occur where a female dancer and Jimin should mirror each other. After a full day of going over the chorus choreography with him alone, as the choreographer, it was your job to come up with ideas but he effortlessly suggested working on them with you. Jimin was always like that, wanting to be involved in his choreos, and you didn’t mind it at all. Granted you were both exhausted, and you’d admit he was…

You glanced at him. He always made you flutter in various ways, and dancing with him or watching him dance was no different. But you could stay professional; you had worked together before, and there was never an issue.

But today you were experimenting with potential dance moves for that verse and you suggested lying down. He was curious about it and asked you to explain, and you told him, “Like a worm dance move, but one over the other. Let me show you, lay down.”

He lay on the dance room floor and you placed yourself with your sneakers next to his hips. Once he gave you the go-ahead, you bent forward with your hands ready to catch you on either side of his head and let your body fall over him, curving from your chest to your stomach, hips, and knees before your feet touched the ground, and you got up. You couldn’t forget his expression as you did it: his cheeks gained color, his parted lips revealed his surprise, and as your face hovered over him, his glistening stunned eyes were on you before lowering to what you hoped was a good view, aka, your cleavage.

“What do you think?” You had asked.

“Again,” was all he had said.

So you did it many times more, trying to connect from the previous step in the choreography and then trying to figure out where to go from there — if you should get up on your feet or just stay on your knees or maybe something else.

“Then we can find a way of… getting you up again,” you were winded as you quite simply stayed seated on him. You wouldn’t have normally but you were exhausted, so you didn’t move, with your core dangerously close to his. So close that you instantly thought, Not that we need to, you’re already up.

And the thought should have scared you, but as you both recovered your breaths, you just stayed put, facing each other. His gray sweatpants left nothing to the imagination from where you were sitting and your leggings only helped. It was thoughtless of you to move an inch only to feel him a bit better, and you were startled into freezing when his dark eyes snapped open. Yet he said nothing, did nothing but look at you, the both of you sweating and still panting. Until his hands brushed your hips and the scales tipped. He squeezed ever so slightly, and you let yourself fall.

Jimin opened the last door at the end of the halfway and you followed him inside. When he closed the door behind you, the music became barely audible and you could hear yourself think. And panic. And make the right choice like the professional you were.

“I understand,” you started, turning to him once you reached the desk on the opposite side of the room. You were in an office, and as small as it was, at least you had distance between you. “You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll give my resignation letter tomorrow.”

“What?” He gaped, blinking his normally sweet eyes, “Why?”

Your eyebrows twitched, “What do you mean, why? For—” Your breath got caught up in your throat and you suddenly were at a loss. How could you say it? You sucked in a breath, “For acting inappropriately.”

His eyebrows pinched ever so slightly and you thought that speaking ahead could at least save your career.

“I’m sorry if I harmed you somehow. That was not my intention. I— I got carried away.”

You wondered if you misstepped by admitting that much, but instantly your eyes dropped to his lips and the memory flooded you. They were incredibly soft, as was his tongue, playful in a delicious kiss that had you forgetting everything aside from how hard he was beneath you.

You forced yourself to look down and bow respectfully, “Please don’t worry about—”

“You didn’t finish.”

You raised your head, “What?”

“You didn’t finish.”

You straightened back up and blinked. You gave it time, but you had nothing. What was he talking about?

Oh, right.

“The choreography? You have a lot of it already,” you smiled pacifyingly. “I’m certain you can get someone to fill in the gaps.”

“No,” he stepped forward. “You.”

You blinked, drawing a blank again. “Me? I don’t understand.”

“You—” He hesitated for only a second, “You didn’t come.”

Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, but then you pursed your lips, “So?”

“So,” he took a step forward. “You left before I could do something about it.”

You could almost hear the click as you thought you had caught on to him, “You mean you want to finish what we started? Not fire me?”

His expression only softened as he nodded, and yet for you, it was even more confusing.

“Really?” You asked, blinking in surprise.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No!” You almost shouted as he tilted his head, so you reeled it back in quickly, “No, definitely not, I just—” He stayed quiet as you struggled for words until you just sighed, saying the first thing that came to mind, “I just didn’t think you’d want that.”

“Why not?”

The way he rolled his shoulders reminded you of the tension building between you. You were sort of blind to it before, as you had been worried about your future for a moment there, but now you could feel it lacing around your neck again. He was right there like a pretty picture, just waiting for you to answer or do something, leaving you space to decide whatever, and yet you were still wary of making the wrong decision.

“Because… That’s not very professional,” you settle with, deciding to still be cautious about it.

But he just chuckled, “I think we’re past worrying about that. Or not?”

Your mouth moved without filter, “If you want us to be, then we are.”

His smile potentially rewired your brain. Even as he looked down and seemed to consider something, all you could do was wonder if this was real. Jimin was really telling you not to worry about being professional because he wanted to finish what you started at the dance studio and holy shit, you were getting hot.

“I…” He started, and you attuned instantly. “I’d like it if we kept it between us.”

“Deal.”

He could see you relaxing in a way, and now he was certain that your posture had changed. Just like before at the dance studio, your shoulders were straight, your posture intent, ready to move. He didn’t have to hide his eyes tracing your curves because you were doing the same to him. And it burned. Usually, he preferred to have clothes on; he was never the most confident about his body. But with you, it felt different. Perhaps because of before but… With you, the clothes were in the way.

He took a deep breath and pulled on the collar of his leather jacket as it was gluing to his skin, “I’m not sure what this means but…” He looked back at you with darkening eyes. “I don’t want to think right now.”

You instantly nodded in agreement, then shook your head the next second, “Yes, no thinking. I just want to know one thing,” you started, mind falling deeper into that rabbit hole. He nodded. “How did you plan on finishing me off?”

Your heart was drumming fast, but that was it. His lips parted in a bit of shock, but you didn’t take it back. He could back out, but if he wanted it, then you were in and this was what it meant. You wanted to know how he planned on continuing this partially because you wanted to know if you were on the same page, but also to know—

“Eating,” he breathed, and your eyebrows jumped. He must have noticed your eagerness because he licked his lips as a hand ran through his hair, “Eating you out. Burying my face in—”

His breath caught and you couldn’t help yourself; you shook your head almost anxiously, “Say it. Come on, please,” you were asking and it was enticing. “Say it for me.”

His reaction was to rub his face in embarrassment, “I can't believe I'm saying this to you.”

“Why?” You almost pouted, “I want to hear it.”

“Yes, but…” he didn’t seem to know how to face you or answer until he took a breath to renew his courage. “Talking… is hard. I should finish you first.”

He took a step forward but you raised your hands with a light frown, “Wait. Talking is important. This is not a race.”

“No, of course not. And yes, I’m not saying we shouldn’t talk, it’s just—” You had lowered your hands and his discomfort was abundantly clear, making you wonder what was going on. He heaved a deep breath before confessing, “I feel like I failed.”

For a second, you thought this was a terrible idea. If he wanted to be with you because of a semblance of hurt ego or pride, then you were not interested. But then… You knew Jimin, you had worked together before. He was a perfectionist but he wouldn’t come this far just for that.

So you allowed yourself to dig deeper, and stepped closer to him, “Because you came?”

“I couldn't control it. I tried,” he was apologetic and you closed the distance between you two.

“I saw it,” you acknowledged, then smiled. “You looked so cute trying, groaning a no even when your orgasm overcame you.”

He looked down and you saw that same embarrassment that now you were starting to gain a distaste for. Because that was nothing to be embarrassed about. Hell, you loved that you drove him that insane just by straddling and kissing him. Just thinking of the frenzy that had you dry-humping him and kissing him like he was the air you needed had your temperature rising. He had no way of knowing how close you had been nor how it filled you with pride when he twitched inside his pants and groaned into your kiss. At that moment, you had thought that playing with him would have been the best thing ever. Then you realized who you were doing that with and thought that leaving was the best course of action.

Well, you weren’t leaving this time.

You had a better idea. Your lips curved as you got your jacket off, knowing the deep cleavage on that red dress could convince him to look back up.

“Maybe you were too turned on,” you sighed after throwing the jacket over a nearby chair. You smirked at his eyes on you and casually adjusted the bra stripes, making your breasts bounce. “Wouldn’t blame you,” you shrugged, tone brazen as you relaxed. “It could be,” you continued, your hands forming a v down your stomach to your mound. “That this pussy is just magical.”

He couldn’t hold back his chuckle and you grinned, even as he shook his head with color on his cheeks.

“Isn't that why you thought of eating it?”

“I think it's your hips,” he voiced, endlessly more at ease. You could hear it and see it. “The way you move… the way you dance has always made me imagine, but today the way you moved to—” Your look was intense but you knew he could take it. “—to grind on me just—”

“Got you bursting despite your best efforts?” Your tone was almost condescending and to your surprise, he simply nodded.

“I'm sorry I couldn't wait for you.”

And that did it for you. “Don't be sorry, you're here now.” You passed by him and happily found a key on the door that you turned. You glanced at him but he only ever looked at you, never losing sight, so your lips curved, “I'd say this is way better.”

He didn’t oppose you in any way as you got around him to reach the desk again, only this time you sat on it. You spread your legs and his tongue peeked between his lips.

You smirked, “Come here.” He moved but his eyes were restless; indecisive on where to focus first. Right before he could reach you, you added, “Kiss me first.”

Still, as he got in between your legs, first he tentatively traced your legs up to your knees and hips with the back of his fingers. Gently but in awe, holding his breath to scout your reaction. You smiled at him and opened your arms and your welcome had him melting forward with his eyes set on your lips.

You closed the distance between you so your mouths could meet, squeezing your knees to his hips so he knew not to move away. While your arms wrapped around his neck relaxedly, you moved your lips at your tempo, knowing that he’d follow. You imposed a slow rhythm, mouths opening millimeter by millimeter to allow for your breaths to mix progressively, tastes to be shared patiently, and tongues to finally touch in sensual flicks that had him groaning mutely.

You were doing it again, he thought, needing to hold your waist and press himself closer to make sure you wouldn’t leave. Just like before, he trusted you without a thought and your kiss was enough to dazzle him, to make him want to follow the rails you set out for him if only because it was you. He wanted it all. If he sucked a deeper breath, it was to breathe you in. If he chased your tongue, it was because he wanted more of what you were giving. If he pressed your waist, it was because he needed to be grounded. Because he was already over the moon, sweating under those stupid layers of clothes, painfully hard and away from that magical pussy of yours, and lost. So lost if you wouldn’t show him the way.

He didn’t know if you realized it, but he trusted your guidance and you didn’t disappoint. You hugged him closer, pressing your chest to him and giving him space to join your cores. Even through his pants, you could feel his bulge, and you wanted it. You opened your eyes during your kiss and all that you could see was absolute relaxation and vulnerability on those sweet lines of his, so you took the next step. 

First, you wrapped your legs around him, crossing them over his perky ass. Then you pressed him closer, right before stretching your legs, the movement making him go back, right before you pressed again to draw him close. It created a push-and-pull move that had him grazing against your center ever so slightly, making you flutter around nothing just at the suggestion. And you could tell he appreciated it, if only by the way he sighed and his lips became lax with the distraction. You gripped his hair by the back of his neck and he went with it, letting you split your mouths while your lower body dance continued.

His eyes opened a slit to face you and that view was fatal. He was a fucking gorgeous man, with his kiss-bruised lips and mute groans escaping them all while dark eyes invited you to have your way. And you would because at that point you wanted little more than to play with him all the way.

It was stronger than you; a moment of that view, of his bulge making your imagination fly, and you couldn’t stop yourself. In a matter of seconds, your free hand was forcing its way inside his pants, not even bothering to unbutton them, just squeezing in between and passing every layer of clothing until you gripped his hard cock.

He groaned with lips parting further, surprised with your boldness, but not dissatisfied with it. Quite on the contrary, judging by his precome on your hand. His fingers gripped your waist harder but he stayed exactly put, letting you squeeze the head tightly and jerk him as much as you could with the clothes’ constraints.

But you liked them on. Your tongue peeked between your lips as you took in that full image. Park Jimin still had his black leather jacket on but was covering your fist in precome, groaning with pleasure on an expression you didn’t guess he let many others see. No one would know how weak you left him even if they barged into the room right now, and you instantly knew no one else could do that to him. You could read it in his eyes — he was taken, he was yours, and he wanted you to have him. And if on any other day, you could have had fun just teasing and testing his limits, that would have to wait for now. Tonight you wanted to be with him.

So you let go of his hair and jumped a bit on your ass while you pulled the hem of your dress up the curve of your hips. His eyes didn’t miss anything, not your round hips being revealed and surely not your chest bouncing. Just by the way he looked at you, you knew he was your kind of guy, but not yet. You had that office at the back of a club, after all, you were not going to make it a quickie.

“Pull your clothes down.”

He blinked questioningly and you smiled and nodded. As he unbuttoned his pants and forced them and his underwear down his hips as best he could, you could only guess what all of that was doing to him. Your teases, your generous cleavage glistening under the office lights, your raised skirt suggesting what could come next, and finally, your request laced in a low lustful tone. His obedience was rewarded with wider movements of your fist up and down his shaft, which would have all your attention if his cheeks weren’t flushed. Fuck, you wanted to bring him to his knees crying with bliss, show him he was the key to heaven itself and you were the gatekeeper.

But not yet.

Your firm hand around his cock pulled him closer as you sat on the edge of the desk and spread your legs. He almost fell over you, supporting himself on the table to stay at bay only to waver on his knees. Your laced panties were red, just like your dress, and contrasted with his pink engorged tip.

“Look,” you called to him, eyes fixed on the view of his cock head rubbing on your clothed clit. “You have such a pretty cock.”

His groan was instant, bringing more fire to his cheeks if that was possible. You were looking at him now, seeing how tense he was, how he was gripping the desk on either side of you, how he was trying not to buck his hips to help you, but most importantly, how beneath the embarrassment and desire, he was proud. You grinned wickedly when you realized this, thoughts running wild as you licked your lips.

“Is it good?” You asked, wanting to make sure he wasn’t getting lost too soon.

And he nodded, trying to suck in a ragged breath, “I said I’d eat you.”

His hoarse voice had you sinking your teeth in your bottom lip, and after a moment of consideration, you let him go. Your hand was wet around your thumb and pointer where his precome had found purchase, and you brought it up. He had staggered with the loss of your hand, deciding to wait for your signal before getting on his knees to eat you, when he almost choked. Your tongue was out, savoring him off your hand slowly as your eyes stayed on him, and he felt a new wave of heat hit his back. He was melting, hanging on a breath and on your opinion because you were surely measuring up his taste before you gave your go-ahead.

Your lips twitched before you gave a last lick up your thumb, and he finally breathed. Yet he only unfroze when you leaned back on the desk and uttered what resembled a challenge, “Go on.”

His knees hit the floor at super speed, followed only by his starving eyes and his fingers looking to hook your panties. You only twitched your eyebrows when he glanced up in confirmation but then he was free to pull them down your legs. The wet spot on the outer side was obvious, it was his doing, but as the fabric passed your knees, the white and translucent arousal pooling on the inner side had him salivating.

You could see in his focused expression that he wasn’t taking things lightly, but you considered he might have been intimidated. You were wrong. His eyes were fixed on his goal and the first thing he did was bury his face right at your center, rubbing it in and taking a deep breath as if he had finally come home. It was enough to make you throb, but it was his hunger that did you in. 

He was starving; the use of the word eating had not been lost on him. His mouth was everywhere in the beginning, followed by his tongue collecting all of your dripping wetness as if it was an oasis in a desert, and then he settled. He took a deep breath with a whiny groan that you doubted had been voluntary and focused on lapping at your sex, licking and licking in a certain rhythm that had you finally blushing and groaning at the ceiling.

In between your haze, you found yourself smirking. Of course, a dancing god would have a perfect tempo but it was almost unfair. You wanted to have fun and make him work for it, and instead, he was the one driving you crazy.

So much so you needed to grab his hair and when you did, you clenched, biting your bottom lip not only not to moan but also not to come. Unknowingly, he made it easier for you. Maybe he thought you needed a break and that was your way of asking because he gave you one, nuzzling your clit instead. Only that made you squirm and grip his head harder, pressing him to you for more pressure, and he got the gist. He gripped your hips in place, sticking his tongue inside you for a moment to collect your taste only to go back to licking you deliciously over your clit.

And you finally moaned and bucked your hips, the searing sensation so close to where he was going down on you, you could have come on his face.

But you held back. You pulled his head away by his hair and almost lost your nerve at his swollen lips and hungry eyes. Why did he look so fucking delicious? Was it because he was covered in you from nose to chin?

“Fuck, if I knew you ate pussy this good, I would have gone straight for your mouth instead of leaving.”

His tongue darted out to lick your taste from his lips as his fingers dug into your skin. He couldn’t think any further than the idea of ravishing you, especially now that you were not only giving him a chance but regretting leaving him too soon. “I can keep going and finally make it up to you.”

“No,” you decided quickly, sitting back up. “Not yet.” He furrowed his brow for a moment, unsure of what you were asking. “I’ve changed my mind, I want to feel you first.”

He didn’t move. The way you seemed to be holding back brought doubts to the forefront of his mind, which brought hesitation. He could do it, he showed you he could do it, so why would you stop him now?

“Look,” you asked sweetly as you leaned forward to cup his balls. He was standing again because you had pulled him up and he observed you with curiosity. “Still so full,” you cooed, rolling his balls on your hands gently. You saw his Adam’s apple bobbing and you grinned, “And with such a pretty hard cock.” You grabbed him with your other hand, jerking him swiftly and firmly over his tip, swaying him on his feet. “Where else? I want you inside me,” you sighed, looking down at the precome spurting out of him again. Fucking tease he was. “Want to see the face you’ll make when my walls squeeze the cum out of you.”

He blinked and licked his lips, knowing fully well you expected an answer but needing to scramble his mind for one, “Whatever you ask.”

You smiled mischievously and slowed your fist on him only to beckon him closer, “Kiss me.”

Your traces on his face were waning but you were quick to lap your tongue around his mouth messily, holding his chin in place so he wouldn’t escape you when you pushed your tongue inside him. Your excitement was taking the breaks out of you and it showed when you pumped his cock harder, not giving him a second to breathe. He had to fight or submit to your tongue as you pressed in, biting his lip whenever he tried to evade you, even if to moan your name. But the effects of that sound only made it worse.

Your legs laced around him and pressed him closer so you could guide the crown of his cock to your entrance, “So hard and thick.” 

Your lewd voice dragged as you clenched around his girth and it tried to catch in you. His hands came to rest on your legs, eyes fixed on the view while his lower lip became trapped between his teeth. He was hanging on, desperate for the moment it would happen.

“You’ll stretch me so good,” you moaned at the thought, and his sole reply was a jerk of his hips. You licked your lips at the initiative and pressed your shins to his ass to get him swaying. “Gonna make me all wet and crazy for this cock,” you rasped as you saw, same as him, his cock trying to push into your closed fist to reach your sex. “Gonna fill me up with that sweet cum of yours. Aren’t you?”

You asked as you grinned, feeling the precome fill your hand again. Fuck, he was messy, and he had no idea how much you liked that.

“Shit,” his mumble was his only verbal response, meanwhile his hips gained momentum. He clearly enjoyed your incentive, your fist pulsing around his tip in a tease, threatening to catch him only to let him go back in an endless game that had him shaking.

You saw it, and you loved it and couldn’t not play with him. It was stronger than you. As he kept jolting, trying to ever reach inside you, you caressed his hip gently with your free hand, leaning closer to meet him halfway. Because he was bending forward, flushed and focused, breathing heavily as he rutted into your hand, so bent on getting inside you no matter what it took. He was facing you, reading your lips as you cooed him sweetly, fueling his hunger with yours and falling into your kiss. 

You licked his lips in a tease, “Harder.”

And he did, following your lead as he grunted and tensed under your fingers now at his sweaty neck. You were entranced by him in ways hard to describe: his parted pouty lips, his breathtaking stare, and his cocked eyebrows telling you that he was rising to the challenge and giving you what you wanted. Your mouth opened too when his cock finally slid so well in your fist that the tip kissed your folds and you shuddered. His hands had sneaked up to your hips and gripped harder, committed to that last stretch to get to you, and you licked your lips.

And let go.

You opened your hand and he suddenly slid inside you, splitting you so harshly you screamed with the invasion, and so did he. He almost collided with your chest, dodging your face last second so you wouldn’t head bump, but his focus had shifted. Instantly he groaned, and you burned in bliss. You knew the way your walls were squeezing him was mind blowing, your throbbing to accommodate his girth helping you and him. He twitched and groaned into the crook of your neck and you knew he had lost control again.

Fuck, you just adored the way he breathed when he was high and coming down, it was perfect. Riveting, exhilarating, heavenly. All the things you knew he would be, and more. 

He cursed into your shoulder and you grinned, making sure to tell him, “We’re not done.”

He straightened back to look at you and you smiled endearingly as you cupped his cheeks.

“You just stretched me,” you cooed. “Gonna let me ride you?”

He blinked, “Now?”

“Now, gorgeous,” you sighed with a smile, crossing your legs on his ass firmly before he had any ideas. It was hard not to enter a frenzy after so much foreplay, especially now that his come was threatening to drip out of you. “Said I’d empty you, and you’re not done yet.”

You reached to pull his leather jacket back and off him then pulled his shirt up without the slightest hesitation. Your nails grazed down his pale skin over his pecs, marking him as you felt the muscles leading to his thin waist.

Your fingers brushed his NEVERMIND tattoo, “You’re so fucking hot, no wonder.”

He pressed his palms to his eyes and you could guess he was letting the embarrassment back in, and you weren’t having it.

“Look at me,” you demanded firmly, and he lowered his hands to look at you in surprise. “I need to ride you,” you said and bucked your hips in case he had forgotten where he was still sheathed. “Take me and sit on that chair.”

He glanced at the chair next to him where you had thrown your jacket, and wrapped his arms around you to do as you requested. As he did, he wondered how he could break down to you that eventually, he’d get soft, but the thought never reached his mouth because you were kissing his head and pressing yourself to him. As soon as his ass hit the chair, your feet found the ground and you rolled your hips over him with a quiet moan that covered him in goosebumps. Right, he thought, tension stiffening him from head to toe. He was still hard inside you, you felt that good.

You could feel him stretching you, barely any of his come dripping down, and so you moved tentatively only to lose your mind soon after. “Fuck you’re so good,” you mewled into his ear as you hugged him and rocked over him. “Your cum got me sliding so well,” you sighed, and he dug his fingers into your waist. “Not just a pretty cock, huh?” You leaned back and smiled, letting him see how fucking crazy he made you. “But a good cock,” you moaned, never stopping your ride. “Made to keep me well stuffed and satisfied, hm?”

Pleasure was twisting his features and you doubted he would answer you.

You leaned forward, “Fuck, I need to empty you.” You were starting to hump him hard, not only searching for his cock to hit inside you but for a roughness over your clit. You gripped the hair at the back of his head and reached to ghost his lips, “Leave you spent and pretty.” Your hips gained traction and the way he was looking back at you, as if he knew how crazy he drove you, had you gripping harder. “Can I?”

He smiled, “Yeah.”

And it broke you. You took support on his shoulders and jumped once on his cock, making sure he was ready for you. He was.

“Get your pants off and away.”

“What?”

“Do it: out of your feet and kick them away,” you repeated, giving him the time to do it without getting off your throne. Once he sat back up, grabbing your hips comfortably, you rolled them again, “Your come is dripping.” You were gluing your chest to his and he was busy looking at it, wrapped in red. “We’re gonna make such a mess.”

You chuckled sensually and kissed his cheek all the way to his ear, biting on his earlobe as you got comfortable on his lap.

“Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” You asked gently before licking his ear, “I can always ride your pretty mouth.” He was squirming when you tried licking him again, so you pulled back. “Good?”

He nodded, biting his lip as he eyed you, and you smirked. You leaned in to bite his pouty lip for just a languid moment before you pressed on your heels to slide up his shaft and then fall down. And again and again, easily letting the moans out of your lips now that you weren't holding back. His head fell back a little, eyes fixed on you as his chin dropped, and you took it upon yourself to make him sound pretty.

The slaps, the wetness, the tight vice you had him under; he couldn’t even think. How could you feel this good? His toes were curling, his nails sank into the fabric of your dress as he looked at your chest bouncing in front of his face. Fuck, you were gorgeous. He wanted to be with you and he had dreamed of your fucking him, sitting on his face and smothering him, but shit, he wasn't expecting that. He had come just before and still, you felt insanely good. 

Your lips twitched into a mischievous smile, “Do you like it?”

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed, so fucked out you only tensed more.

“Good,” you chimed happily, kissing his mouth before leaning to nibble on his earlobe again. “Fuck, I wanna come hard on your cock, show you how good you make me feel.” He shuddered, holding you closer to him. Every word of yours was a moan, he believed you, but he wanted to hear you unfold. “Would you like that? Should we make a mess?”

“Definitely, yes.”

His lips brushed your neck near your hairline and you scratched his shoulders, jumping on his lap as much as your embrace allowed you to. You didn't need much, you had been holding on for so long and the way he pierced you inside was just perfect. It didn't take much to relent the control and your moan pitched, higher and harder with his poking inside, adding to the lewd sounds and the lascivious thought of his balls squashed beneath you as you jumped on him, and you popped.

Jimin was focused on your boobs bouncing nearly on his face when you squealed. He glanced up, avid to finally see you come, but in your scream, he felt wet.

He looked down as your moans subsided and touched his stomach down to where your sexes met. He was wet, like a glass of water had just been thrown there.

“Woah,” he breathed, bewildered.

“Is that okay?” You asked, winded.

“That’s fucking okay,” he rasped, at a loss for words. He had never seen that before and you didn't give him time to think about it.

Your hypnotizing hips kept going as you raised his chin to kiss him. “That’s how good you feel,” you moaned, out of breath. “That’s how hot you are. Fuck, that’s how much I wanted to ride your cock.”

You grabbed his head to kiss him deeply, pushing your tongue in again to lick and flick inside his mouth. Your head was spinning as you got lost, scratching up to his scalp to keep him in place for your pussy to swallow and ride him without a break.

Until you broke away with a whine, “I’m not done.”

“Keep going,” was his instant reply, glistening eyes boring into yours.

“Can you come with me?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You feel really good but I’ve never done it like this before. I’ve no idea.”

Your lips curved with a hint of mischievousness as you brushed his sweaty hair out of his forehead to kiss him there, “I’d like to feel you coming again.”

“Me too,” he leaned into your touch with a sigh, kissing you back when you searched for his lips. “Pleasure yourself, I’ll follow.”

You smiled at his proposition, sliding up and down his shaft with ease. It felt good but you had to build your tension again and to know you had a green light to do as you pleased instantly sparked you. He really seemed to be your type.

You bit his pouty lip gently and dragged a hand of his from your waist to your ass. “Rub it for me.”

The dress had climbed to your waist and he took a moment to palm your round asscheek, feeling how it contracted with every swing of your hips. You were chasing a second orgasm and he groped you with a smile, happily thinking to himself it was a blessing he had come first. Now you could just use him without worries.

And he wanted to help you do it, so he slid his fingers closer to your rim. Your constant jumping got you the rub you asked for, and you squirmed, trying to get more without sacrificing his cock pounding inside you.

He was entranced, seeing your expression riddled with pleasure as he rubbed a bit harder, and soon you clenched hard. So hard he looked down expectantly, the way your body moved blowing his mind irreparably. He was yet to see your tits, but the way he wanted to eat them—

You pressed your lips to his almost anxiously, stopping your movements to stay on his lap and kiss him. He wondered why you had stopped, but your kiss stole his whole reasoning. You were reaching deep, touching corners of him he didn’t know were accessible so easily. But it was unfair to call what you were doing to him easy, it was definitely something only you could do. And in the midst of having his whole mind and body overrun by you, he wondered if he’d ever be able to forget you.

“I have one last request,” you smiled, still so close he nuzzled your skin as he thought that he'd give you whatever you asked for. “Eat my tits so I can come.”

His brain seriously glitched as he looked at you, your smile only furthering the downtime. The sway of your hips entranced him again as you slowly picked the rhythm back up with your eyes set on him. Your tongue peeked between your lips and the corners of your lips twitched slyly — it got you so high knowing that you could make him dazed like that. Everything about his expression and the way he looked down at your cleavage turned you on, and you were the happiest to make it even worse.

But as you tried to pull the dress straps down your shoulders to get more of your chest free, the fabric offered resistance. It distracted you from what mattered and Jimin didn’t like that. Quite the opposite; he liked that even if he glitched and forgot how to use his mouth other than to drool, you were still free to keep going, riding him to your heart’s content. But knowing you wanted his mouth on your breasts and that you were struggling enough that it was ruining your pleasure was unacceptable. 

He didn’t think; he gripped the fabric by the deep cleavage and pulled the straps effortlessly over your shoulders along with your bra. Your breasts easily overflowed from your padless red bra and he was in awe. Your tits were moving lusciously along with your body straddling him and his thought process stopped again.

The way he looked at you upped your arousal another notch right before he buried his face in your boobs, pressing them to either side of his face. His thumbs instantly squeezed and rubbed your nipples and your hips bucked, pleasure shooting through you in a way that had you bouncing. And as you did, his come mixed with your slick, dripping down onto him and making you shudder from head to toe.

“Fuck,” you moaned, at the tip of the spear as you looked down at him trying to lick both boobs at the same time. He clearly liked their size, loving the way he could reach both as long as he grabbed them together. “You feel that?” He hummed right as his tongue darted out to lick you yet again. “Fuck,” you dragged, rolling your hips again with a hiccuped movement. “I want you to cover my walls white.”

“I will,” he pulled away to look at you with dark glistening eyes. “Don’t stop, I fucking will.”

He was twitching inside you, holding his orgasm at bay. He could do it better now that he had already come once and looking at you, he knew he wouldn’t fail you this time. It was a wonder to him how he was on edge so soon, but it didn’t matter. Because he was with you, giving you pleasure, touching you and eager to see and feel you unravel again. 

Moreover, you actually asked him to do one of his favorite things in the world. He looked down at the precious gorgeous treasure in his hands and couldn’t help himself. He had to play with them, to squeeze, to lick them and bite them, and feel every time you squirmed. Every moan, every shudder, your fingers sinking in his hair to keep him there, and he stayed gladly. It had him twitching like crazy, hanging on a dangerous balance between too much stimulation and just barely enough until you screamed.

He meant to look down to see you coming this time, but as you pressed him to your chest so hard he could barely breathe, there was no way he’d oppose you. Also, he was in heaven, so he didn’t want to. You were squeezing him so well, gripping him so firmly while you squirted around him that it was bliss to finally let go. He breathed you in, perfume and feminine scent imbued together on your chest, right as he rutted into you.

Your orgasm was powerful, taking such a grip on you, that you didn’t realize you were screaming and possibly suffocating him until dozens of seconds later. By then, you could still feel him twitching inside you but what had you biting on your lip was the way he mumbled your name. His eyes were closed, he looked fucked out and exhausted after trying to reach deep inside you, and after being drained of his last drop, your name was the last word spilling out of his lips.

It made you want to hold him and never let go.

You nuzzled him and then reached to kiss his sweaty forehead. As you hugged him, you realized through your haze how much you trusted him. You knew you did it professionally, but now you felt like it was wholehearted. Being vulnerable and intimate was always a difficult choice for you, but this was nice. And good. And wholesome. You sighed.

But as you both recovered your breath and came to, you became aware of being all sticky, hot, and sweaty, and that as soon as you got up, it would get worse. You didn’t want to move, but reality would come knocking soon, and hopefully not literally.

You kissed his forehead again as if to wake him up, and he palmed your waist and lower back gently. That was when you felt confident enough to get up, immediately reaching for the Kleenex box on the desk to put tissues in between your legs right before passing him a few.

You cleaned yourself as best you could and rearranged your dress before turning to him to help him, but he was already clean and putting his clothes back on. You reached for your underwear with a mute sigh; you needed a shower badly.

You tried combing your hair with your fingers and froze when you saw him effortlessly putting every piece of clothing in place, his hair so beautiful it looked like it had just been styled. You were probably gaping because when you blinked, he was already smiling and brushing your hair gently over your chest as if he was enamored by it.

You didn’t know what to say. “I need a shower,” you smiled sheepishly as if to justify why you looked unruly right now and why your hair was being difficult. You felt immediately silly; why would Jimin care about your hair? He lowered his hand though, and you nodded, “I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Wait,” he voiced when you were already grabbing your purse from the floor and turning to leave. He was running his fingers through his hair in a gesture seemingly detached, but you knew him better by now. He might have been nervous. “I want to invite you to mine but it would be a problem because of photographers and all that.”

“That’s okay.”

You spoke before you could think, but your cheeks still reacted in time. You knew he noticed your blushing but there was no teasing to be found in him, just something akin to a purpose. And it made you raise your eyebrows, reviewing what he had just said.

You licked your lips, “Would you like to come to mine?”

He instantly grinned and closed the distance between you, then cupped your cheeks, “Thought you’d never ask.”

All you saw was his endearing smile right before he kissed you.

[erinwantstowrite]

Would you ever... create like... LOF au oneshots....? Like, one chapter lengths stuff for things that you were thinking of putting in but didn't, or doing like a "Peter if he was younger, meeting the bats" or "what if Bruce was his dad, not Dink?"

i have been collecting scenes that ended up not being in LoF... Like, some scenes that were in a different POV before they got changed (there's a Tim POV that got scrapped and ended up as Peter's instead, this is the hardware store scene), scenes that ended up not being in it at all (Peter and Dick were going to have dinner with Donna, but it wasn't coming out right when I tried writing it) etc.

I do like the idea of doing drabbles for LoF like I do for Home too, or maybe even writing someone else's POV of a scene that I did put in LoF, or writing things that the others were doing on certain days, etc.

though there are some things that i might end up putting in a different au instead of scrapping it all together. like this scene:

[ Peter is holding a fridge. Somehow, this is both a cause for alarm and also not at all what the problem really is.

See, Peter woke up this morning with the goal of going around and logging Gotham’s map so he could input it into the Jumping Radar. Peter really wants to avoid going back to the library, and doesn’t feel like testing his chances at a new library just yet. However, that plan ended up on the back burner sooner rather than later.

There’s this little old lady on Bourbank Avenue, a little close to Benny’s, that Peter says hello to when he sees. Her name is Margerie, and usually outside tending to her rickety garden. “Poison Ivy is more gentle with people who care about the plants.” She had told him, and taught Peter her ways of tending to beans, beets, carrots, and spinach.

Well, Peter said hello to her today. Stopped by to chat while she taught him about how to tell when a tomato is at its best. And that’s when he heard about her fridge.

“I’ve had it so long, it’s no wonder it gave out on me,” She had said.

“How long has it been?”

“Well, Benji was still alive…”

“Who?”

“My son.” Margerie had smiled. “He was the one who’d remember that kind of thing.”

And, well, jeez. Peter’s not a monster. He went looking for a damn fridge.

However, he didn’t have the money for a fridge. So what he could do was find where Margerie’s hired worker dumped the fridge, fix it, and find some way to bring it back without anyone noticing he’s a skinny 14 year old who shouldn’t be able to do that. This endeavour led him all the way to a dumpster, where it turns out he can’t save the fridge after all.

But there was an appliance store in the Diamond District that Peter had passed by. And wouldn’t you know it, he found a fridge outside in their dumpster that was able to be salvaged. It’s perfectly clean, too, just sitting there brand new and with a faulty ice box that no one wanted to work around.

So.

Peter is holding a fridge.

That’s somehow both a cause for alarm, and not the problem.

Cause of alarm- he dropped it on his foot when a group of people ran behind the appliance store, and he almost shrieked in pain and alerted them that he was behind the now dropped fridge. He heard the crack in his foot and felt it and prayed, but no- broken.

Peter pushes the fridge off of his foot, yanks the broken thing back, and gently drops the fridge back into place. He’s far enough against a chain link fence to be hidden very well, thankfully, and none of the people who ran back here had seen him. (Yet?) He presses his back against the chain link, biting his lip and pressing his thumb on the injury. It’s not that bad, he can already feel the healing itch. But it’s enough that with only a couple meals in him, that it’ll take longer than Peter would like for it to get back to normal.

“Fuck! Scatter! Why’re y’followin’ me, y’idiots!?”

The real problem: not the broken foot.

“This was tha only place ta run!” Another shouts back. “Fuck! This is bad!”

“No shit! Y’fuckin’ moron- y’led a Bat right to us!” A third hisses.

Peter peeks around the fridge in time to see the third guy grabbing the second by the collar, slamming him up against a wall with a thud.

hello! hey, watch? look it look it look it

Whatever scuffle was about to happen is quieted. Peter glances upwards, but he doesn’t see what he knows is there, in plain daylight. There’s a presence on the roof of the appliance store, but where? Peter should be able to see them, but…

there there there!

He doesn’t get to focus on the presence that’s there. Instead, his eyes are starting to adjust to the fact that- hold on-

Peter glances up. Gotham is usually cloudy and grey, but… there’s nothing blocking that light of a stormy early morning. And yet, everything in the area is growing darker and darker. Peter’s skin crawls, a tingle that settles down his spine and tries to make up for the increasing lack of light. The group of teens start to panic, looking for a way out that isn’t possible in this dead end.

Darkness encompasses the area. Peter takes short, silent breaths. His ears twitch with every movement from the teens, every whisper of panic. Their heartbeats are erratic, and it’s like they already know which Bat this is. There’s seven heartbeats, panicked, trying to escape…

And one that is calm. There’s a breath and the scuffle of a foot from the rooftop.

Peter closes his eyes even though it’s already dark. His spider-sense is making up for what he can’t see, a mental map of the area created in his head. He feels the air move around him, and listens as the Bat takes each of them out one by one.

The thuds of one companion freak out another. “Scotty?”

But then he’s out too. Peter hears two more meet the same fate, knocked out cold on the concrete. He opens his eyes as the Bat approaches the last of them, just in time for the shadows to recede back to where they should be.

Signal stands over the last, now unconscious guy.

The Bat hasn’t broken a sweat. He almost looks bored when he starts ziptieing the gang, complaining aloud, “Y’all couldn’t have waited until tomorrow to cause trouble?”

Whoa.

Peter had seen Signal doing his thing a couple times when he was out and about, but never this up close. That…

That was fucking awesome.

He heard the guy was a meta, and he didn’t know what to believe about that, but seriously? That was like some Shadow-jutsu shit- wait, could he do that? No, wait, because now Peter can see Signal again. He was fucking invisible! And he’s acting like it was nothing! ]

I really really really really really wanted this scene, but it never made it past the rough draft :( that's because it didn't make sense with the rest of the chapter (i can not remember which chapter it was for, but it was definitely before Two Face). I've been thinking about putting it in a deleted scenes for LoF fic, but I think I might take it and put it in a different au.

(The only consolation I have for this scene not making it in is that Signal gets to have a cool scene later)

[hyunniesgirl]

Call it what you want

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Hyunjin were never on the best terms but when you're cheated on and your ex is trying to get you back, Hyunjin does everything he can to prevent it from happening.

Genre: enemies(ish) to lovers, smut, fluff

Words count: 4,038

A/N: all my gratitude and appreciation to my bestie @baby-yongbok who proofread this chapter for me 🩷 thank you so much for the help girly!!!

Warnings for this chapter: gaslight, drinking, mentions of violence, sexual tension, insecure thoughts(if there's anything missing let me know)

Chapter two: Drunk

Previous chapter: shameless

Next chapter: the most precious thing

+18 minors do not interact!!!

You couldn't sleep a wink thinking about the whole situation. ‘Is there something wrong with me?’ Is the only thing that comes to mind when you think about your love life.

You're just so angry and not just because you were cheated on. You can't believe you got so worked up after kissing Hyunjin and his reaction was nearly nonexistent? NOTHING?

Of course you didn't expect it to be the best kiss of his life, he was doing you a favor after all but you got pretty excited and he didn't even get flustered? That's kinda offensive.

After your break up, Eric tried talking to you at school so your friends came up with a system so he wouldn't bother you until you felt ready to face him. You found out after a week that someone filmed Ryujin and Changbin beating the shit out of your ex after you left the party and that made you feel pretty satisfied, it's nice knowing that your friends have your back. So that's the reason he doesn't try getting close to you when your friends are around. Now you are never alone, you always have one of your friends in one of your classes and because you're finishing your course you could choose some electives that overlap with theirs. And luckily most of your class courses are with Chaeryeong.

The problem and the reason why you're so mad is that Hyunjin is sticking around too much, more than he ever did. He is always around the exact friend that's having class with you and you're starting to think that he's doing it on purpose. You’ve had to deal with seeing his disgustingly handsome face every fucking day and it’s been nothing but torture considering the kiss and all of its aftermath. Almost a month has passed since you and Eric broke up. The day after you told him to fuck off, you unblocked his contact just to inform him things were over between you two if it wasn't already pretty obvious.

After communication class you were pretty exhausted, so you and Changbin went to the cafe in front of the school so that you could repay him with a drink of his choice for going out of his way to help protect you from your ex. That's when Hyunjin comes barging into the shop. Why does he always look like he's glowing? He's wearing perfectly fitted clothes as if they were custom made just for him, his hair falls in glamorous waves, it's longer than most men wear but it's just right for him. Long story short: he's hot. You have to admit it and it's really annoying, actually. Why does the guy you dislike have to be so stunning?

"Hey", he says, taking his sunglasses off, bumping fists with Changbin and nodding at you in an attempt to greet you.

"I'm going to order, I'll get yours", he says, seeing the pager light up and buzz on the table.

He asks for a large Iced Americano and the attendant gives him your order. He sees that there's some writing on the coffee sleeve of your drink.

"Hey, saw you and thought you're cute. If you want to hang out sometime, call me: xxx xxxx-xxxx" Hyunjin scoffs, his jaw clenching. He tears the paper apart and throws it in the trash before heading back over to you and Changbin.

"They forgot to put a cup sleeve on mine", you say pouting as you take the drink from Hyunjin's hands. He finds you so cute it's difficult not to smile.

"I can get an extra when I get my order", he suggests and you frown, a strange urge to accept his kindness but you're too proud for that.

"No need, it's not that hot." That’s a lie, it is really hot, but you don't want to accept his help.

"I'm going to meet Chaeryeong, so you can wait for the drink with him, Binnie." You say as you put your bag on your shoulder and wave goodbye. Hyunjin's eyes follow you as you leave, watching you until you are out of his sight.

Chaeryeong was not far, so you thought it wouldn't be a problem to go alone looking for her. When you hear Eric's voice calling for you, you pretend like you didn't and just walk faster looking around for your friend, until he grabs your arm forcing you to look at him.

"Babe, I was calling you, didn't you hear me?", he asks and for a moment you think you're crazy. Didn't he cheat on you? Didn't you break up? Why's he acting like nothing happened?

"What do you want?"

"I missed you", he says, getting closer, giving you puppy eyes and caressing the arm he is holding.

"Don’t pretend like everything is okay." You shake your arm out of his grip. "We broke up, I don’t want to talk to you anymore."

"What did I do that was so wrong?" He asks, His expression void of embarrassment

"What did you do? Are you fucking joking right now?"

"Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?" He asks, pouting. "It meant nothing to me, if you just let me explain-"

'Is he trying to look like the victim while I’m the jealous girlfriend? Doesn't he have a conscience?' You knew this would happen, you knew he would try to talk his way out of this. You take your phone out of your pocket and show him the picture you took of him at the party. His eyes grow wide.

"I’m not going to let you gaslight me into thinking I'm crazy." He tries to take the phone out of your hand but is stopped by a very angry Changbin.

"I see I should have beat you more", he spits, coming in between the two of you. "Get her out of here"

Hyunjin comes over to you, he puts a hand on the small of your back and leads away from the both of them. You're worried about your friend, he could get into trouble if they fight, so you can't help but to take a few glances in their direction until you are too far to see them.

You feel tears running down your face and you can’t seem to stop them. You’re so angry, so hurt. If Eric had only admitted what he did, you wouldn’t hate him so much, but he’s just pretending you’re overreacting and trying to get his way. Everyday you try to push aside the hurt you’re bearing, the feelings of insecurity and anxiety. You have to convince yourself that you did nothing wrong, that he’s the one at fault. You’re afraid of falling in love again, scared of having to go through all of this heartbreak and pain again. Love shouldn’t be like this, love should be light and carefree.

"I can’t believe he showed up when you were alone", Hyunjin says, pulling you out of your worried and anxious thoughts. You look around and notice how far you are from Changbin now.

"I expected it" You say, sighing as you wipe your tears.

"He’s such an asshole, trying to deceive you like that." You scoff, feeling mad. He's not that different.

"Do you think you’re better than him?" You ask and he looks at you, frowning.

"You lead girls on over and over" You continue. You’re trying to hurt him. You want him to feel the hurt that you felt. You know it’s not fair, but it has not been fair to you either. Why do you have to be the only one feeling miserable? He stares at you for what feels like an eternity, sighing before answering.

"I never give false hope to other people", you take a deep breath, you really thought he would lie to you, say he doesn't know what you’re talking about.

"I never accept the confessions of the girls who have feelings for me", he continues, "and the ones I occasionally go out with know I won't date them, it's not my fault that they think they can change me or whatever they choose to take that risk." He sounds hurt, exactly the way you wanted, so why do you feel even worse?

"I don’t see how I’m like him." He finishes, making you feel like your chest is sinking.

"I-"

"We finally found you!" You hear Changbin’s voice and you look towards the sound, he and Chaeryeong look tired, they’re breathing heavily and sweating.

"We searched for you everywhere, why didn’t you answer your messages?", Chaeryeong asks, hugging you.

"I didn’t realize how much time had passed." You say as your eyes stay locked on Hyunjin. He’s avoiding your gaze again just like he did at the party, looking to the floor and making your chest ache even more.

"I’m sorry for worrying you", he says, "I gotta go"

You see him walking away, not glowing so much anymore. You wanted to call his name and apologize, say you shouldn’t have snapped at him like that, but you’re too proud for that. Too proud to apologize to one of the people that came to your rescue when you needed it the most lately. You suck. You really do.

•••

Hyunjin didn’t come around for the next week, your friends even complained about how distant he was. It couldn't be because of your conversation, right? He wouldn't be like that because of something you said. He didn't like you, it doesn't even make sense for him to care about what you say. When the weekend rolls around and you barely see him you feel weird, if you didn't know any better you would think that you're missing him and that wouldn't make sense.

Chan was cooking for the night, your Saturday had been awfully boring, so when he proposed a dinner at his house you accepted right away. His cooking is so good you're salivating with just the smell of onions and garlic. Changbin and Minho are playing Just Dance while Seungmin and I.N. are playing pokémon. Chaeryeong is by your side, complaining about a class you're not into, while Jisung and Felix are helping Chan. The only ones missing are Yeji, who's coming with Ryujin and Hyunjin, that you were informed is not coming.

"Why can't Hyunjinnie come, again?" Changbin asks while waiting for their points to be calculated on the game.

"He said it's school stuff but I bet it's because of a girl", Jisung says and you feel that weird ache in your chest once again.

What does it matter to you if he's with some girl? You not only rejected his request to be friends, you also said some pretty bad things to him. You deserve it if he never looks at you again, you still can't believe you said that to him, just because you were feeling bad doesn't mean you get to treat people that way. You sigh to your own thoughts receiving a suspicious look from Chaeryeong.

"Nah", Minho answers, "he's been hooked on the same chick for quite some time now".

You look at Minho, frowning. You didn't know Hyunjin liked someone. So why was he kissing someone else at the party? Weirdly enough, you swear you saw Minho eyeing you.

****

The moment that Chaeryeong introduced you to them, Hyunjin knew he was done for. Everything about you was appealing to him: the way you smiled talking about the things you liked, how you fixed your hair after the wind messed it up, the way you bonded with all the guys and tried finding things in common with every one of them so that you all would get along.

He couldn't help but stare, your voice was so sweet and your eyes sparkled when you laughed. He tried to be subtle but everytime you joined their group he had the same reaction like a fucking teenager that can't talk to a pretty girl. So when you began acting distant only to him, he felt bad and offended, he didn't think he did anything to make you dislike him. After a while he became distant too so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable, eventually you both started doing things to annoy each other. He only started bothering you so that you wouldn't just ignore him, he wanted you to acknowledge him even if it was in a bad way.

Hyunjin never disliked you the way you thought he did, when you started going out with Eric he was absolutely heartbroken but he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.

So he put his feelings aside and started going out with other girls, maybe if enough time passed he could like someone else. You didn't see it, but his eyes were always on you. Always looking at you to make sure you were happy. He was right behind you when you found Eric at that party, after you walked away he could see your faltering steps, that's when he saw you fainting and caught you just in time. He told the guys about what happened before carrying you out of the house and taking you to his car, trying to be gentler than he ever was even with his paintings while adjusting you in the front seat.

You frowned even when you were unconscious, he couldn't even imagine how hurt you would be when you woke up. So he waited and waited till your eyes opened and he was relieved to see you were alright. He thought it wouldn't be good to drop the act at that moment, you could think he was pitying you. After you left the car he was sure you would cry your eyes out all alone and he couldn't do anything because the two of you weren’t close. So he urged your friends to message you asking to come by but they already had done that and you had rejected their offers. Of course you did, you like to look tough, someone that doesn't need others, but anyone that knows you a little better sees you're a softie.

When you showed up at the studio while he was painting he couldn't believe you actually came looking for him. He was so surprised to see you that he clumsily dropped the paints he was holding. He was planning to get closer to you, close enough so you would like him and when he knew you were over your shithead ex boyfriend he would go for it. Even if you didn't want to go out with him at first he would keep trying to woo you… Of course, he didn't want to force you to like him, he would wait for you to discover your feelings.

Everything went down the drain when you asked him to kiss you. Every bit of his self control just disappeared and when your lips touched his he was sure that you were it for him, the way just touching your soft lips made him feel like he was on fire, your hands wandering through his hair felt like the death of him. He could feel himself getting hard when the door opened abruptly, you silently left the closet and he fixed his pants so as not to show what was happening there. Hyunjin was embarrassed, if just one of your kisses could make him feel that way he could only imagine what it would feel like to actually have you. He couldn't stay there much longer, it was impossible to look at you without approaching you to get something more. But you weren't even looking at him, if you could just glance at him it would be enough, if you just looked at him he would be satisfied. Your eyes were staring at the floor, you didn't look pleased at all.

Did you regret kissing him? Was it that bad you couldn't even look at him? No one ever complained about that, so he thought he was good. Did he ruin everything?

He got out of the room, Hyunjin just couldn't be there for another second looking at your face full of contempt. He went downstairs looking for one of his friends and found Chan taking shots of tequila with a group of his juniors.

"Hey, wanna join us?" He asks and Hyunjin nods, maybe with one or two drinks he would feel better.

Hyunjin shouldn't have mixed drinks, he couldn't walk straight and his head was spinning. To make things worse he could swear he saw you coming in his direction so he went the other way to avoid you, he was afraid to say something stupid. That's when he found Chaeryeong, he asked her to help him get some water because he was not sure if he would be able to walk to the table where the drinks were. The moment his friend looked away someone grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. He wasn't sure of what was happening or if he was just imagining. He put his hands on the person's shoulder and stepped away feeling dizzy. Minho was close by so he dragged Hyunjin out of the party and gave him some water while he got some fresh air.

"Y/N", Hyunjin was babbling and Minho rolled his eyes.

"What is it?" He looked at his friend seated on the grass with his head between his legs, "Are you still hanging onto your crush on Y/N? Didn't you say that you would give up when she started dating?"

Minho asked those questions but he already knew the truth, his friend had never really stopped liking Y/N.

"Kissed her", Hyunjin grumbles rolling his tongue.

"What? When?"

"During that- that game" Hyunjin trips over his own tongue as he tries to answer.

“Dare…truth.. that one.” He answers, looking over at Minho with glazed eyes.

"And how did it go?" He asks, curious.

"Good, it was so so good I could die"

"Well, if you die you won't be able to kiss her again", Minho jokes seeing drunk Hyunjin pout with tears in his eyes.

"I wan kiss her again though" Minho laughs.

"Of course you do" He sighs bending down and slipping Hyunjin's right arm around his shoulder and lifting him, "Let's go home now so you can think about how to kiss her again"

Hyunjin could barely open his eyes when he woke up the next morning, he was really thirsty and his head felt like it could explode at any minute. However, he had one thing on his mind: Win you at any cost.

So he called all of your friends and asked which classes they picked this semester casually asking if any of your other friends were attending that same class. That's how he found out your schedule and sure, that sounds pretty stalkerish of him, but that's the only way he could get close to you without raising suspicion.

When you told him that he was the same as your ex he wanted earth to swallow him whole, he was so mad at himself for making you feel that way and he was hurt that you thought of him in that way. He couldn't look at you anymore, he was too hurt for that. He avoided you for the next week, afraid to meet your gaze and be faced with indifference or even worse, disgust. He didn't even attend the dinner Chan was doing because he couldn't bear to be in the same room with you. That's until he got drunk enough to make his liver beg for mercy, he couldn't even think straight anymore, so he went on a walk for some fresh air and he walked and walked until he was under a really familiar vertical garden.

•••

You got back from dinner after midnight, you are already in your pajamas ready to go to bed when you hear a "clank" coming from somewhere. You can't figure out the source of it so you ignore it until it happens again, you realize that the sound is coming from the door at the balcony. You get close trying to see what is causing the noise, You look down and notice a couple of rocks on your balcony. ‘Who the hell is throwing rocks at my window in the middle of the night?’ You open your window ready to curse at the culprit, when you look down you see Hyunjin looking at you with puppy eyes.

"What are you doing?" You ask and he smiles.

"I wanted to see your face" He answers simply.

"What are you talking about? Why would you want to see my face in the middle of the night, Hwang?"

"I like it when you say my surname" He giggles, "And the answer is: because you're beautiful" You blush wanting to die, why are you blushing? This guy is drunk for sure, bothering you in the middle of the night. So if you know that, why are you blushing? And why do you want to smile?

"Now that you got to see my face you can go home" You say, trying to close the window.

"Noooooo", he screams and you are sure he woke up half of the neighborhood. "I WANNA SEE YOUR FACE UP CLOSE"

"Shut up" You look around to make sure there's no one turning on their lights to see what's happening and when you look at him again Hyunjin is climbing the fence where the flowers are tangled in your vertical garden.

"What are you doing?" You whisper yell at him but he ignores you, continuing to climb until he's on your balcony.

You cross your arms in front of your chest looking at him, he's taking deep breaths but looking really proud of himself.

"I could have opened the door for you if you wanted to come up" You say.

"Oh" He says and smiles shyly, "I'm sorry, I wanted to be romantic" You feel your face hot before you can ask what the hell he's talking about. He looks totally disheveled, messy hair, clothes that look like pajamas and glasses he only uses at home or when he's tired and doesn't want to wear his contacts.

"Care to explain why you’re here?" You smell the alcohol on him so you can already guess.

"I already told you, I missed your pretty face", he answers, pouting like a child that has to answer to their mother after doing something wrong.

"No, you said you wanted to see my face and then said I'm beautiful, you didn't say you missed me" You pick at his words trying to think of a way to send him home without your friends knowing about this situation because you know that if they find out you're done for. They're gonna pester you for the rest of your life asking why Hyunjin would come after you while drunk and to be honest that's a question that you would like to know the answer to too.

"Ah, you're so smart, that's why I like you" He says walking and looking around your room.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, maybe having him here while drunk isn't so bad.

"Yesssss, and you're pretty and nice and really funny and good at everything you do", you smile without even realizing, what is this guy doing to you?

"Okay, now you have to go home, alright? I have to sleep"

"Let me sleep with you, I'm really good at it" You choke on the air you inhaled, coughing violently.

"What?"

"Humm, I'm good at being the big spoon and I don't take much space in the bed and you can even sleep on my chest and I'll hug you" He's saying that and has the audacity to blush.

You decide to call the guys that lives with Hyunjin, you're not scared of their questions anymore because you're too afraid you're actually going to accept his proposition. You try Minho, and Changbin but no one's answering. Shit. You look back at Hyunjin and see him lying down on your bed.

"For god's sake, Hyunjin" You try shaking him to wake him up with no success. You sigh, what are you going to do now?

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

All characters in my writing are from my own imagination and don't represent nor reflect in any way the people in real life.

Taglist:

@hhwangsmoon @inara-a

[callsign-rogueone]

questions

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader (sweetheart!) Part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart's story words: 2.9k 🏷: no real book spoilers, this will make more sense if you've read Resson (Garrick's version) but it's not required, set a week or two into Iron Flame, this is a sweetheart chapter so warning for intrusive / self-deprecating thoughts and anxiety spirals, I made a bunch of stuff up about Ridoc's life because RY never told us anything, Rhith being a cool mom, this hasn't been proofread, oops. gonna go have a bagel now byeeee

Rhith had told you that Ridoc would meet you at the gates at eleven — so naturally you’ve been standing there since 10:45, rocking back and forth on your heels and peeling your cuticles.

Why did you agree to do this? Actually, this was your idea — why did you bring it up? What if he’s not going to show up, and you’re just going to stand here for an hour like an idiot?

“Hey! Am I late?” he asks, startling you out of your thoughts. He’s a little out of breath, like he’d ran here, but he offers you a wide smile nonetheless.

You open your mouth to speak just as the bells chime. 

“Guess not,” he laughs when they’re done. “You ready to go?”

You nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets so he can’t see the state of your fingers. Thankfully it’s not too hot to wear your flight jacket. This is your first venture into town, and you don’t want to have your relic on display when you’re in a new place — just going is scary enough.

He leads the way — of course he knows where you’re going. He probably goes out every weekend with his friends; another way you’re completely different.

“I figured we could play twenty questions,” he offers. “Get to know each other a little more. You can go first, if you want.”

You take a second to remember how to speak again. “Alright, um… do you have any hobbies?”

“Coming up with jokes is pretty time consuming.”

“And here I thought they were all completely spontaneous,” you say, shaking your head. “Do you write them all down in that fabled diary of yours?”

He laughs. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t actually have one?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering it. “Only because I don’t see you spending your free time sitting down, writing.” 

“You wound me, sweetheart. I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of writing complete sentences.”

“I never said you weren’t. I just said that I didn’t see you doing it.”

“Fair. Tell me about your book,” he prompts. “The one you’re always carrying around.”

“That’s not a question.”

He gives you a sly smile. “Well played. I’ll rephrase, then. What’s the book about? Do you like it?”

“That’s two questions.”

He laughs, warm and full. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Three.”

“Okay, okay. The first one, then — what's it about?”

“The main character is a trained assassin who is called before the king to join a contest to become his hitman, basically. But the contestants keep getting murdered in the night by some creature that they can’t track down.  It’s part of a series, but I’ve never seen the other volumes anywhere. I like to imagine a different ending every time I read it.”

“You’ve read it more than once?”

You ignore the fact that that’s yet another question, answering it without protest. “Yeah. I know that’s dumb, but it was the book I was in the middle of when my life went to shit. It’s technically property of the library in Aretia, but it was burnt to the ground, so I never gave it back.”

Your heart beats a little faster at the mention of your hometown, and you immediately regret bringing it up, but thankfully Ridoc seems none the wiser. 

“There’s nothing dumb about it if it makes you happy.”

You’ve just stepped into the tiny restaurant when a man that you guess is the owner sees Ridoc and pulls him into a tight hug. “I was wondering when you’d bring your girlfriend!”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t correct him — that would be too awkward.

Ridoc doesn’t correct him either. “I set up Ezra here with ice that never melts,” he explains with a smile.

“It’s been a blessing. Keeps everything fresh longer, so I don’t have to waste it. You two sit — I’ll make you something special, on the house.” He disappears into the tiny kitchen in the back, leaving the two of you alone in the nearly-empty dining room. 

Ridoc gestures to a table in the corner, away from the door, and you settle into the chair silently. You can’t help but run through Garrick’s mental checklist — your back is to the wall, and you have clear sight of the two exits. You have a knife in your right boot and one in your left sleeve — plus the blunt one laid on the table in front of you. The fork would probably do more damage, though.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hm? Oh. Right.” You take a moment to look at him. “Why are you here?”

He gives you a stupid grin. “Because you asked me on a date.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I mean, why Basgiath? Why the rider’s quadrant?”

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you that this whole thing was your idea. But really… probably because I’m an adrenaline junkie who feels like he has to prove to the world that he’s not an idiot. And I’ve always admired the riders and their magic. We can do some pretty cool shit.” 

There’s a pause, and his voice softens as he continues. “I know you didn’t want to be here, so I probably sound super ignorant saying all that. I do think it’s fucked up that you didn’t get a choice — and the way that they handled all of it.”

“I respect your answer. It was honest.”

His turn for a question. “How do you feel about it, really, being here? Not here as in here,” he clarifies, tapping the table, “but at Basgiath.”

You look at him for a second. “Is that your question, or…”

“It can be. But if you don’t want to talk about it, we can go back to the dumb ones.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quietly, thinking for a second. “I’ve accepted it, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

He’s quiet, giving you space to elaborate — the same way Garrick does; not prying, but silently offering to let you tell him what you’re thinking, if you want to.

“Challenges are the one thing here that doesn’t scare me, because I don’t have to think about it anymore. I know what to do if someone takes a swing at me, and I know how to disarm someone, because Garrick made me practice hundreds of times. But everything else…” 

“Is uncertain and unfamiliar, and therefore scary,” he finishes for you. 

You’re a little surprised by the gentle tone of his voice, the lack of judgment in his words. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Another pause.

“I’ve had an anxiety disorder pretty much my whole life,” you admit. “I was that kid in school that everyone thought couldn’t speak, because I never talked to anyone, except my siblings. Liam was my first real friend who was my age. He didn’t mind the quiet. We would just sit together, and he’d do his wood carvings while I read my books. That was good enough for both of us.”

“Where are they now? Your siblings, I mean.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking down at the tablecloth and the barely distinguishable pattern of flowers woven into it. 

“I know that’s two in a row for me,” he says, backpedaling. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I had a brother and a sister. They were eight and ten years older than me, but they were my best friends. I think they knew that I didn’t have anyone my age, so they always let me tag along for everything until they left for Basgiath.”

“They went here?”

You nod. “As infantry. When they graduated, they joined Fen Riorson’s movement, and a few years later, they were executed along with my parents.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Something compels you to keep talking, to push past the awkwardness and condolences. “I don’t mind talking about them. It’s hard, but they were an important part of my life, and they deserve to be remembered. Losing them was devastating, but Garrick and my foster sister helped fill that void.”

You trace a fingernail over one of the tiny flowers. “I think… I think that’s why I kept pushing you away, and why I haven’t really made any friends here. Being marked doesn’t help, but I can never let myself get close to anyone, because everyone I’ve ever been close to has left me, one way or another.”

You can’t bring yourself to say “died” — and that wouldn’t be quite correct, either. Garrick is very much alive, last you’d heard, but he’s at least a twelve hour flight away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I only met her twice, but she was always kind to me and everyone she met.”

It takes you a second to realize that he means your foster sister — as far as Ridoc and the rest of the school know, she’d died at Resson along with Liam and Soleil.

“She was,” you say softly. 

It feels weird speaking about her in the past tense. You know she’s not dead, that she’s safe with Brennan and the elders, but the last time you saw her, she might as well have been — she’d felt so cold, and looked so drained, unable to respond to you or even open her eyes. 

She has to be awake by now, starting to recover. She has to push through, if for no reason other than that it would absolutely shatter both you and Garrick if she didn’t. 

Ridoc exhales, choosing his next words carefully. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that, especially so young. But for what it’s worth, which probably isn’t a lot — I think you’re handling it all incredibly well, and you’re really brave for it.”

You, handling anything well? and being brave? Yeah, right. You take a sip of water to cover the look of dry disbelief on your face, but he sees it anyway. 

“I mean it. Bravery isn’t “never being scared”, it’s “being scared but doing the scary thing anyway”, and you’ve been doing that every day for the last year — for your whole life, honestly. I think that’s admirable.”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. 

“It’s true,” Rhith says gently. 

“Thank you,” you say softly — to both of them. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

He offers you a soft smile. “I think that’s enough deep questions for now. Thank you for telling me all of that, though. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But I feel… lighter.”

“Lighter is good.”

Ezra arrives at the perfect time, holding a tray with two plates of steaming noodles and two glasses of water, placing them in front of you and making a quick exit.

Ridoc brushes a hand against his glass, and you watch the pattern of frost crawl over the edges as it chills itself near instantly. “Want me to do yours?”

You blink, realizing he’s speaking to you. “Sure. Thank you.”

He pushes the cold glass toward you, taking the other and chilling it for himself.

The question comes out before you can think. “How long did it take you to get used to the cold?”

He looks up at you, surprised. “Not long. A week, maybe. I run hot, so sometimes it’s kinda nice.”

You nod in understanding. He’d been warm to the touch when he’d wrapped his arms around you, and you’d melted right into him. That was a first. But so is this, and it seems to be going okay.

You both eat without further discussion, every minute of quiet a little more comfortable than the last. The food is good — better than anything they serve at Basgiath. 

“So, where’s home for you?” you ask after a while.

“Deaconshire,” he answers. “My dad’s still out there. It’s been just me and him for a while.”

“Not too far, then,” you comment, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he hadn’t mentioned his mother. 

“Yeah. I’ve thought about going AWOL for an afternoon, just to see him for an hour or two. But at least the letters will arrive fast.”

“Right,” you say softly, pushing the last piece of pasta around your plate idly. 

It hadn’t really sunk in yet that you can write letters now, as a second year. You could write to Garrick, but it would be too dangerous to send anything to Aretia, with the professors reading everything to make sure there’s no classified information being spread. You might be able to write to the Duke, and hope he passes it on to the right people, but that would still be deemed suspicious. 

Maybe Bodhi could help you.

“Where’d Garrick get stationed?” he asks.

“Samara,” you answer quietly. 

He winces, knowing that’s right on the front between Navarre and Poromiel, but he recovers quickly. “He’s with Xaden, right? They’ll take care of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ll be fine,” he reassures. “They were the two biggest, most intimidating dudes in fourth wing. Nobody’s going to mess with them — but if anyone’s dumb enough to try, they’ll get what’s coming to them. And they can definitely kick ass in the air, too.”

He’s right — they’ll be fine.

Probably.

“Yeah,” you say again, hoping it sounds convincing. “They can definitely hold their own.” But against wyvern… what if what happened to Deigh happens to Chradh or Sgaeyl, and there’s nothing they can do? 

You force the thought out of your head before the universe can hear it and make it come true. 

“You ready to head back?” he asks gently.

You nod in affirmation, and he gets up, finding Ezra. The owner bids him a cheerful goodbye that includes a hearty pat on the back, while you stand by the table and offer him a weak wave and a soft thank you.

The walk back to the school is quiet, only the crunching of gravel under your boots, but this time the silence isn’t as loud.

You’ve already said everything you needed to say, laid all your cards face up on the table and shown them to the other — almost all of them, you think with a little flare of guilt, but there are some things you just can’t tell anyone, for the sake of Tyrrendor in its entirety.

“This one’s mine,” you say quietly, stopping in front of your door. 

You call it yours, but it doesn’t feel that way. Just because you sleep here and your stuff is piled up in the corner, yet to be unpacked, doesn’t make it feel like yours, and doesn’t make it feel safe, despite the ward that Garrick had helped you put up before he left for Samara with Xaden.

Ridoc offers you a warm smile. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’d really like to see you again, if you want.”

“I’d like that too.”

He lingers, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s expecting something of you, but he remains a few steps away, his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you add. “For today. And for finding me yesterday.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And next time you start to feel that way, you can have Rhith tell Aotrom to get me, okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone.”

“Okay,” you say softly. 

He gives you another knee-weakening smile before he heads off, disappearing into a room that must be his — eight doors down, on the other side of the hall.

You make it inside just as the bells strike twelve thirty. The afternoon is still young.

You decide to unpack — starting by shoving the box of your sister’s things into the bottom of the armoire. You’d burned most of her stuff, to maintain the appearance that she’s actually dead, but you and Garrick had both taken some for yourselves. Malek couldn’t get mad about that, right?

You don’t know if you should worry what he thinks or not — you despise him for taking everyone away from you, but you need to remain in his good graces if you want to keep the few people you have left. But you aren’t sure how — it remains unclear what you did, or didn’t do, to deserve that. 

“It was nothing you did,” Rhith says gently, startling you. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

“Sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to project that to you.”

“We’ve talked about the apologies, sweet one,” she prods. “They’re never necessary.”

“Sor—” you stop yourself before you can finish the word. “I’ll work on that.”

She changes the subject for you. “I’m proud of what you did today. I know that was difficult for you.”

“It’s easier with him,” you say quietly. “I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Many things don’t require explanation. It is enough to simply appreciate them.” 

Spoken like a true green. “I wish I could be as logical as you,” you sigh. 

“There is value in both logic and emotion, but there is a balance to be found between them.”

You sit with the statement for a moment as you start to fold the laundry you’d shoved into a bag and dragged up the stairs when you’d moved, trying to smooth out the wrinkles to no avail.

“What do you think?” you ask. “about him, I mean.”

“I think he has a good heart. He genuinely cares for you, but it is your decision whether to trust him or not. And even if you do, there are some things that he can never know.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you, my girl.”

You’re a little bit proud of yourself too.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Is it chilly in here? (and then the live studio audience laughs)

Barbie dolls: jegulus x gn!reader

Word: 7.3k (ish i just couldn’t shut up dude)

summary: James and regulus are ice skaters now and are in a competition you’re dating reg and after he and James train together some tensions arise reg makes rash descions at the competition

Warnings: no magic world heavily insinuated, inspired by the Olympics but it’s not the Olympics, you jokingly say you love reg’s feet BUT NOT LIKE THAT THEYRE METAPHORICAL, do whatever want tho suck toes in your free time idc,regulus is trans and skating prodigy, James is very giggily and flustered by the mere existence of regulus ngl, Sirius and you are kinda bitchy but like in a fun besties way if that makes sense, insinuated wolf star, mentions of the black family nasty, Sirius has a tendency to share childhood stories that do not lighten the mood, also I only found out that flips were illegal in ice skating competitions after I was 4 thousand words in so just pretend for me okay baby, mentions of transphobia, mention of prayer but it’s one sente about the possibility of someone maybe saying a prayer it’s not like “and then Y/N swung her beautiful religous hair over shoulder before praying to her one true god”, talks of perfectionsim and self doubt blah blah blah, sexual jokes oopsies, Sirius wears gold, ice skating written by someone whose hobby is writing (not a sport), allusion to autistic reg (if I'm autistic then reg can be too WHOS WITH ME), yadda yada

Regulus was beautiful. It was written into his DNA. His family was bred like dogs to find the perfect combination that created the perfect children. But with all said and done, with his mother’s image only ghosting his mirror on bad days, he was still gorgeous. Everyone knew it. Eyes would flock to him like starving coy fish in tourist attractions did to food. He was accustomed to them and ignored them perfectly. You knew it. He was gorgeous in the shower while you washed his hair. He was beautiful in the mornings when he pleaded with his pretty eyes for just five more minutes. He was pretty when your kisses made him flush. None of which could compare to the beauty of him on the ice.

Initially, you thought he was kidding when he told you he was a professional figure skater. Then he took you to the rink he most practiced at and found an entire glass case dedicated to him. Regulus Black was plastered over plaques, medals, and newspapers. A large frame had his glittery suit from one of the pictures on the front page of some newspaper. And when you asked if you could see, you were blown away. He moved his body in ways you didn’t know were possible. You felt like he was some kind of god that just so happened to fancy skating, and you.

According to him, all of his family members were prodigies in something. His mother was a painter, masterpieces hung over the fireplace and were comparable to the masters. His father was an amazing lawyer, getting high cases and winning every case he took. His brother was an amazing ballerina. They were both put into classes when they were little, excelling fast, but Sirius felt his mother’s nails digging into his shoulder every time he put on his pointe shoes. Regulus was pulled out of lessons when he was 14 after his parents learned of his trans identity. They said something about him getting ideas from all the tights or something.

Sirius stopped dancing and instead picked up a Chef’s hat. He excelled there too. He made more than his parents would’ve left him after learning about his queerness and started his own restaurant. He got deals up the wazzo. Sirius’ face was plastered on magazines, books, and TV shows. People interviewed him and apparently, he never missed an opportunity to mention his talented brother.

Regulus picked up skating after he was kicked out at 16. He became more accepting of himself while his parents’ hatred grew. Regulus stayed with Sirius. There was a small competition going on at the skating rink for a small cash prize but they were both struggling so Regulus thought, what else could I possibly have to lose? He stunned everyone there with his skills, including a random scout who saw potential in Regulus. Thus sparked him to become more and more famous and more and more skilled.

You massaged Regulus’ muscles when they were sore. You cheered at his competition. You brought him a warm lunch, even though he told you he packed it. You watched in awe at his practices, yelling encouragements when he fell. Even though you’d seen all the bruises and sores, proof that he was just human with great skills, he still felt unreal while he was in his skates.

You knew your way through the rink very well. You’d been there a million times, most to pick up Regulus and or bring him lunch. Today you were picking him to go get lunch together. He had a big competition coming up. In just a few months, he’d be bedazzled and performing in front of a panel of judges. You really just wanted to get him food and run him a warm bath, mayhaps even throw in a nice massage to relax his nerves more. His anxiety was making you anxious.

You could hear the music to his routine playing through the speakers as you opened the door. You could see the swirl of his black outfit as you peered through the plexiglass. You walked around the side of the rink, heading towards where Regulus always throws his jacket. You furrowed your eyebrows as you saw someone sitting a few seats away from the one with Regulus’ jacket thrown over the back. You watched the man sitting there, stare in awe at your boyfriend. You much preferred when people enjoyed his talent than his looks.

The man himself wasn’t hard on the eyes. He had black curls that were definitely messier than Regulus’ but you’d witnessed Regulus’ 27-step routine and precise plopping so you weren’t surprised. This man also appeared to be in a skating outfit, when working out it usually just looked like leggings and some shirt. Once you’ve seen it a million times, you kinda got the gist. His jaw was slack, staring at the ice. He ran his hands over his face before noticing you. You gave him a small smile before moving to the side of the small swinging door.

You looked out to watch Regulus spin so fast you almost couldn’t even recognize him. You let out a whistle and clapped your hands. Regulus’ spin lost momentum, he set his foot down so both skates were on the ice. Regulus shook his arms out before glancing up to smile at you. You waved and turned back to the other man just sitting there as Regulus started pacing. The man looked away from Regulus, pointing at him as he met your eyes.

“Do you know him?” He asked. You nodded. The man ran his hands down his face again. He muttered something that you assumed was a prayer or a curse. You tilted your head back looking at Regulus standing near another wall of the rink, apparently sizing up the ice. You looked back at the man.

“Are you okay?” You asked, getting a little worried about the amount of pain and stress this man was going through. He gave you a short smile.

“yeah, yeah, I just have this competition in a few months. I’m just a little worried I might not, you know, be good enough.” He said, wringing his hands. You cooed. This man seemed sweet, and he was hot.

“Oh my god in a few months? I think he’s in the same one.” You said. You jutted your thumb over your shoulder, pointing at Regulus. You were excited you got to meet someone else in the competition. What a small world. This news seems to worsen the man's mood, making him groan and clack his teeth.

“That’s what I was worried about. If he’s my competition, I’m not going anywhere.” He muttered. You shook your head, glancing back to see Regulus in the same spot. Calculations, probably.

“He’s a freak, He’s been doing this since he was like 16 he’s just like not a real person. Don’t think about him, you’re going to do just fine. Trust me.” You said. You hoped you were reassuring, but it’s a little hard to do when Regulus is his competition. It’s not like he’s getting first place, second maybe, but first is out of the question.

“Thanks that was kind of nice to hear. I’m James.” James said, giving you a small wave. You introduced yourself before quickly holding your finger up when you heard the familiar sound of Regulus setting his feet. James pulled himself out of his seat, moving to stand next to you. Regulus started quickly moving across the ice, if outside in the parking lot it’d be considered running. Before your brain could catch up, Regulus jumped and flipped. His legs were in the air, flat in a line. You screamed and cheered in response to seeing him flip. One of your personal favorite moves but you’d never tell him that. Regulus’ foot hit the ice again, facing the other direction than it started. Just as you thought he was going to stick the landing, he stumbled. Regulus crashed into the ice, making a loud thwack noise.

You winced as James hissed next to you. You cringed and hid behind the short wall before standing up and staring at Rgeulus lying flat on his stomach. James shook his hand out like he was the one hurt.

“Oh, damn. Come on, Reg! Get up!” You yelled, your voice hit the wall behind Regulus’ crumpled form and traveled back to you. James brought his fist to his mouth, sinking his teeth into his knuckles. Regulus’ head picked up off the ice and swung back to face you.

“Fuck off. Give me a second.” You and James reeled back as Regulus laid his head back down. James glanced at you.

“Oh, he’s lovely.” James muttered. You smiled happily, nodding aggressively.

“I know, right?” James glanced back out at Regulus lying on the ice. He slowly picked himself up, pausing to sit in a slumped position. You cooed at his sad form. Regulus got back onto his feet, making his way over to the swinging door you were waiting by. He looked mad. When he reached the door, You held it open for him. Regulus slowly walked onto the carpet, slumping into the chair with his jacket.

“You did good. You slipped, that’s no biggie. You’re on a big block of ice it’s almost guaranteed that you slip.” You said. Regulus glanced up at you through his hair as he pulled at his laces harder than he should. Regulus shook his head.

“I shouldn’t be slipping this close to competition,” Regulus muttered. You shook your head at him, incessant perfectionism. Regulus tugged at his laces, getting frustrated at the knot that wouldn’t come undone. He groaned and flung himself back in his chair, covering his face with his hand. You rolled your eyes at his dramatism. You crouched down and began unknotting his laces, you dropped a light kiss on his knee.

“You’re just fine, baby. Trust me.” You whispered, pulling his skate off and moving to the next one. Regulus let out a small sigh.

“Yeah, I think you did great,” James added, reminding you that he was there. Regulus unhid his face, looking over at James.

“Oh sorry, I’m James. Reg right?” James asked. You paused in untieing Regulus’ skates, to look back at James. Regulus dropped his hand into his lap. You both stared at him, trying to calculate where exactly he got the idea that he could use Regulus’ nickname. James looked between you and Regulus, noticing the change in the air. James dropped his outstretched hand, giving up on the handshake.

“Regulus.”

“oh, whoopsie.” You ignore James, turning back to Regulus’ skate.

“Sorry, who are you?” Regulus asked, a mean tone nipping at James’ hand. You smacked your lips, as you slipped off his last skate.

“Regulus.” You scolded, pulling his day-to-day shoes over towards you. Regulus looked down at you in question, wondering why you were scolding him.

“Oh, I’m a skater, too. Apparently, we’re in the same competition. You’re crazy good though, so doubt I’ll get anywhere on the podium.” James said. James apparently tended to down-talk his own skill, though that might just be the effect Regulus had on people. You pulled Regulus’ foot up to slip on his day-to-day shoes, you’re already down there might as well. Regulus’ eyes shot down to you. He shot forward in his chair, shooing your hands away.

“No. You did my skates, you’re not doing my shoes, too.” Regulus muttered as he pulled his shoes from your grip. You sighed and stood up, dusting your knees off. Regulus was so contrary. “It’s not like you saw me do anything good, I was fumbling all over the place. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” Regulus whispered as he pulled his shoes on.

“You need lunch, a massage, a good lay, a nice warm bath, and a lot of sleep. That’s just my personal opinion though.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. James awkwardly glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Regulus hummed.

“And from who exactly am I supposed to receive this ‘good lay’ from?” Regulus teased, looking up from his shoes to grin at you. You slumped, giving him a disappointed face.

“Oh, ha-ha.” You said, rolling your eyes. James changed the topic, most likely trying to get the image of naked Regulus out of his head.

“You’re really skilled though, and your…um- friend here told me that you’ve been competing since you were a teen?” James said, pointing at you. Maybe he couldn’t figure out how to put two and two together or maybe he didn’t want to jump to conclusions. You smiled at James, he was kind after all.

“Yeah, I’ve been fairly successful with my competitions.” Regulus mutered. You squinted at him as he finished tying his shoes. Regulus tended to talk down his skill, you suppose he and James had that in common. James pulled his shoulders up to his ears and fiddled with his hands.

“Not to be weird, and you can totally say no, but do you think maybe you could watch me practice really fast and then toss a couple of tips at me? It won’t take long, you’ll have plenty of time to go get lunch.” James said. Regulus sat up straight, resting his hands on his thigh. He looked over to you. Regulus was silently asking if you were okay with this happening. You shrugged, yeah it’s whatever.

“Yeah, I have time,” Regulus said. You could’ve sworn you heard James squeal before he ripped off his jacket and skated onto the ice. Regulus stood up, moving to lean against the wall. You joined him at his side, watching James intently through the plexiglass.

James was beautiful on the ice too. You could see the difference between James and Regulus. Regulus was precise. James was more focused on the big picture. James’ arms stuck a little more when he spun, grimaced more, and gave himself the space to make mistakes. Regulus would rather rip his hair out than make mistakes. After James did a few tricks that made you cheer and Regulus hum, James finished his routine and skated over to the door you and Regulus were loitering by.

“So?” James asked, a twinge of uneasiness making his eyes squint. Regulus hummed. He clicked his tongue before looking up to meet James’ eyes.

“Do you have a pen? I think I’ll write down some tips and my number so we can practice together. After the competition, I’ll have plenty of free time to help you train.” Regulus said, keeping a professional tone. You clapped your hands with a bright smile. You looked at James to see him a little sad.

“That means he sees potential in you. He wants to work with you more because he’d rather have you as a friend than an opponent.” You said, smiling at James. Your cheer spread to him, his smile reaching to the corner of his eyes.

“Yes, is that not what I said?” Regulus looked over at you, raising an eyebrow. James let out another squeal, pushing away from the wall to spin around in a circle. You smiled at him. Regulus tilted his head as he watched James. You pulled on his arm, knocking your cheek into his shoulder.

James returned to you two, smiling brightly. Regulus pulled away from you turning to his bag sitting on the floor next to his seat. While he dug through it, you gave James a few compliments. Your kind words made him giggle, covering his face with his hands. Regulus returned with his small notebook and pen, tearing a page out. He folded it before sticking it out to James. James thanked him greatly, securing the paper in his pocket.

“Right, well. James, you can message me and we can train later, but as of right now I need to take my lovely partner out to lunch.” Regulus said, swinging his bag over his shoulder before reaching out towards you. He intertwined his fingers with yours, pulling you closer to him. James nodded quickly, agreeing immediately.

Regulus pulled you away from the rink, starting your walk to the parking lot. When you let the rink door close behind you, you spoke up to Regulus.

“He was hot.” Regulus pounced when he heard you. His head spun around to face you.

“I know! I hope you don’t mind that I gave him my number, he really is talented. I think with enough training we could even enter a duo competition. I always wanted to do one of those.” Regulus said, glancing out the corner of his eye at you. You nodded and rubbed his arm lightly.

“I don’t care about you giving him your number. However, if you do want to make a romantic move, I’d like you to speak with me first. I feel like we should both move towards that if we want him to join our relationship.” Regulus hummed, agreeing with you. You started leading him to the car, fishing your keys out of your pocket.

“And vice versa, I’d like you to speak to me before you make a move on Hunksalot back there.” Regulus glanced back at the rink like he was hoping to catch another look at James. You snorted, lightly slapping Regulus’ forearm in a reprimanding manner. Regulus pressed his nose to your cheek before kissing your cheek again.

After their first practice together, Regulus was ecstatic. He came home practically jumping off the walls. According to him, James was even better than he first appeared. Regulus was extremely excited to train with him. There was plenty Regulus could teach James and a few things Regulus wanted to learn from James. You silently hoped that James would rub off on Regulus to make him a little less rigid in his perfectionism.

James seemed to like you two as much as you two liked him. He started asking if you guys wanted to go eat lunch together after practices. Soon, your lunch dates with a party of 2 turned into a party of 3. You wanted to say that you three started officially dating but just as Regulus was weary of making mistakes he was also weary of confronting people. You didn’t want to make any kind of move without Regulus by your side, so you waited. Your relationship with James became unlabeled, you were dating but you couldn’t possibly imagine calling James your boyfriend, especially in front of other people. Not that you didn’t want to.

You didn’t want to add more stress to Regulus’ shoulders. With his fast-approaching competition, he was more jittery than ever. He was working himself harder, and you didn’t want him to work himself to the bone right before the competition so you started having to limit how long he was allowed to spend at the rink.

James was also anxious, you could tell because all his laughs stretched just a little too long. His jaw was constantly clenched and, much like Regulus’, his knee was constantly bouncing.

With their anxieties high, the competition arrived. In the blink of an eye, you were approaching a whole different rink. You said goodbye to Regulus with a good luck kiss before you settled for a small peck on the cheek for James. With them heading off to the locker room, you started for the stands. You scoured the rows of people for a good portion of time before you recognized the long, curly, and black hair of the one and only Sirius. He looked bored, pulling his fur coat tighter around himself. His hair was half up half down, the top pulled back into a bun pulled back by an elaborate pin. Sirius stared out at the rink watching nothing. He glanced up and smiled when he saw you. Sirius stood up and pulled you into a tight hug.

“It’s been so long. I missed your stupid face.” Sirius muttered next to your ear. You hummed, rubbing his back before pulling away. You patted his shoulder and gave him a small smile.

“I know. Let me see that hairpin.” Sirius obliged, turning his head. You stared at the beautiful piece of gold. It was in the shape of a tree branch with flowers sprouting along it. In the center of each flower were tiny shining gems. You gave the hairpin plenty of praise as Sirius turned back around. He smiled at you, rubbing his hands together.

“How are you and my jackass brother?” Sirius asked, flicking his hair over his shoulder to reveal dangling star earrings. You smiled at him.

“Good, one could even say splendid. Has he told you about James?” Sirius gave you a confused look before agreeing. You nodded.

“Yes, yes, the skater buff guy, right?” You patted his forearm, agreeing. He hummed.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re trying to add him to our relationship but Regulus is just so adamant on avoiding confrontation. We haven’t even taken the guy out on an actual date yet.” You missed gossiping with Sirius. He was such an active listener, and always knew all the juiciest drama around.

“You have to threaten him, it’s the only way to get Regulus to do anything. Once when we were little,” You took in a deep breath “We were playing tag in the gardens and Regulus wouldn’t stop trying to do arts and crafts with the neighbor's dog, so I stole his favorite stuffed animal and threatened to rip it’s entrails out and hang it on his bedroom door if he didn’t play with me. We played tag for hours after that.” Sirius said, laughing through his words like it was a funny story. You tried to smile through your grimace, but he could see the pain in your eyes.

“Right well, what’s new with you?” You asked, deciding you’d rather change the subject than unpack that. Sirius smiled, clapping his hands together.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve developed romantic feelings for one of my employees, more specifically one of my bartenders.” You gasped, excited to discuss this while waiting for your lovely boyfriend to get on the ice.

After Sirius went over every interaction he’s had with this bartender named Remus and you both debated the ethics of dating an employee, the competition finally began. You watched other people’s routines, whispering criticism and jokes to Sirius the whole time. Most along the lines of ‘Regulus can do that with his eyes closed’ and ‘they have nothing on Reg.’ Or ‘Well that was shit’. Just as another competitor finished, you leaned toward Sirius to insult the next person’s outfit only to gasp very loudly in his ear. You pulled away pointing at your lovely James. You looked back at Sirius to make sure he was looking. Sirius was pressing his hand to his ear and leaning away from you. You clapped and cheered, hoping James could hear you.

James’ outfit was all red, with yellow accents, and tracing the yellow lines were tiny sparkles. James was so pretty all the time, but right now with the sparkles and the red, he looked amazing. You just wanted to kiss him all over his pretty face. You watched James shake his hands out. He was anxious but you knew he had this in the bag. He let out a huff, staring down at the ice.

His song started, it was engraved in your head. You watched their practice so much you knew both their songs like the back of your hand. You saw James’ trips and frustration, and all the mistakes that made him want to drop out of the competition. Now that he was finally on the ice, finally just out there doing his routine, you couldn’t be more proud. You could see the influence Regulus had on him, he pulled some of Regulus’ favorite moves. He spun he jumped he skated, it was wild. The big finale came you could see the anxiety on James’ face, in the few glimpses you caught, he jumped into the air. James spun in the air, you held your breath. You’d seen him fall on this part a hundred times. He just couldn’t figure out how to land it. You reached back, gripping tightly onto SIrius’ arm. All within a millisecond, your fear blossomed into pure joy. James’ feet landed on the ice and he skated away from both your anxieties.

James landed his flying spin. You shot up from your seat, screaming your head off. Cheering until you were positive your throat would be sore in the morning. James’ routine finished, he saluted to the judges before skating away back towards the locker rooms. He smiled brightly, showing off his dimples and smile linsd up by his eyes. He glanced around at the stands. You waved your arms around as you continued to cheer, hoping he could see you through the glass. His eyes landed on you, and his smile brightened. James waved at you with both hands, his smile getting somehow brighter. You clapped as he left the ice. Once he was out of eyesight, you settled back into your seat.

Your cheeks felt sore from smiling as you looked back at Sirius. You tilted your head to the side at his raised eyebrow.

“You got it bad, baby. You need to jump his bones before you collapse your lungs from that screaming.” Sirius said, rubbing your arm reassuringly. You sighed before shrugging.

“I can’t support my friend?” You sent Sirius a wink before looking back at the rink to gaze upon the next atrocious outfit.

In your personal opinion, it took way too many people before it was time for Regulus’ routine. You waited and complained and waited and complained. Then finally after seeing the ugliest orange suit, there he was.

Regulus’ outfit was black from the waist to the legs and green from the neck to the waist. They met at a blended angular line. Along the black were swirly lines of black gems. The green had swirling lines of silver. Truly you weren't sure if you’ve ever wanted to rip off one of his suits more. You watched as Regulus death stared at the ice. You knew that was just his determined look but if it was directed at a person you’d be concerned for their health. He pulled his arms up behind his neck, staring down at the ground. He tapped his fingers on the back of his neck.

“Anxious stim, I don’t know why he’s worried. He’s going to be perfectly fine.” Sirius muttered. You nodded.

“He’s got all perfectionist brain. He’ll trip and he’s pissed for the rest of the day.” You said shaking your head. Sirius hummed, tapping his lips with his fingers.

“Regulus was like that as a kid, too. You know, once when we were kids-“ You pressed your finger to SIrius’ lips. Sirius made a disagreeing sound.

“He’s starting.” Regulus’ music started. He skated onto the ice, glancing over at the judges. Regulus set his jaw before moving into his routine. You squeezed Sirius’ hand tightly as you watched him fly through his routine like it was nothing. He was amazing it was like he was born with this talent. Even with all his practice it never looked hard for him. Regulus could glide like he was a gift straight from the stars. It was just that one jump. He worked so hard to figure out how to land his front flip. You watched him fall flat on his ass so many times. You kissed the bruises from his trips. You rubbed his back when the stress from this stupid flip manifested itself into muscle tension. Now finally you got to watch him on the big stage.

Regulus picked up speed before he pushed off the ice, head pointing towards the ground. You gripped Sirius’ hand tighter with both hands. Sirius held his breath, watching his brother fly in the air. Regulus’ legs pointed flat out. He tipped to the ground as you leaned forward in your seat. You and Sirius, both muttering praises. His foot landed and he skated away, effectively landing his flip. You squealed, shaking SIrius’ hand back and forth. You both looked at each other, almost knocking heads. Regulus wrapped up his routine with a classic Regulus move; a spin so fast you were sure he would vomit. He saluted to the judges before heading towards off the ice.

You and Sirius both stood up. You whistled loudly while Sirius cheered. You dropped Sirius’ hand to clap. Regulus looked up in your direction. He pressed the tips of his fingers to his lips before jutting both his hands out to you. You cheered again. Regulus waved at you both. He wasn’t exactly known for his bright smiles but you still saw the small, though slightly smothered, grin. Sirius screamed, making the people around you glance back.

“That’s my fucking boyfriend, dipshits! I suck his dick! I love you, sign my ass!” You screamed. Regulus shook his head, staring down at the ice. The people around you gave you disgusted looks, though some were amused. Sirius cheered again as Regulus fully left the rink. You sighed happily as you sat back down.

“That was great, I wanna go home now.” You said, smiling at Sirius. He hummed in agreement. After a few more contestants, a few more insults towards their routines, and a couple more laughs with Sirius, a judge clutching a microphone skated to the center of the rink. Four more people dressed in all black skated towards him, a giant podium held up between them. Each one gripping onto a corner. They settled it behind the judge, The judge glanced back at the podium, smiling at the crowd behind the glass.

“Well they were all stunning, but I’m here to announce the winners. Now every one of these people worked extremely hard for where they are today. With that in mind, here we go.” The judge reached into their pocket. They pulled out a piece of paper unfolding it. You leaned back towards Sirius.

“He’s fine right? We’re going to win? He’s totally got this.” You whispered. Sirius nodded, reaching for your hand and gripping it between the two of his.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine. Totally fine.” Sirius said, sitting forward. With his grip on your hand, you could tell he was nervous too. Even though you both have seen Regulus win a million billion times. Even though you’ve seen him land jumps, perfect his routine, and stand up there on every podium he looks at, you are still worried for him. Judges can be harsh, harsher than Regulus is on himself. You just wanted him to be proud of himself. You wanted to see him up there on the first-place podium, holding his flowers and smiling with the power of a million suns.

“Alright, well, here it is. Taking home the bronze, in third place, is Yemima Cotterill.” The judge said, throwing one arm out towards the entrance. A gorgeous woman in a green and blue suit skated onto the rink, waving at the crowd. A ginormous smile, showing all her teeth. The four people in black suits helped her up onto the podium, standing on the shortest part. They then handed the judge the bronze medal. Yemima leaned down towards the judge. The judge pulled the medal over her head letting it settle on her chest. She smiled down at her medal. The judge then handed her a bouquet of sunflowers and blue baby’s breath. The the judge turned back around as Yemima looked down at her bouquet and medal.

“Alright, In second place, bringing home the silver, is James Potter.” The judge swung his arm back again. You shot up from your seat, cheering once again. You knew tomorrow you’d have to drink some hot tea before talking to Regulus. James skated towards the center, grinning from ear to ear. He waved towards the crowd as they screamed. James' eyes lingered in your direction, pulling up both hands to wave at you. He was helped up onto the other side of the podium. He leaned over as the judge pulled the silver medal over his head. James waved at Yemima. He started motioning with his hands, from what you could tell he was telling her how amazing she was. She laughed and made a motion to thank him. The judge then handed Jams a bouquet of lavender stock, lilacs, and a handful of roses. James cradled the bouquet to his chest as he stared down at his medal. He smiled brightly, he reached up and swiftly wiped at his eyes, grinning down at the bouquet. The judge turned back towards the crowd.

“Finally, in the first place, you’ve probably seen him in the newspaper. You’ve probably seen his plaques or medals in another rink, but right now you’re going to see him standing up there on the first-place podium.” You stayed standing up, holding Sirius’ arm to your chest. The judge gestured out to the entrance again.

“Regulus Black.” You screamed as your lovely boyfriend skated in towards the center. You quickly pulled Sirius in for a hug as you both cheered loudly. Regulus waved around, kissing to fingers and pointing them in your direction. The people in black suits helped him up to the top podium. He leaned down as the judge pulled his gold medal over his head. Regulus thanked him, pressing his hands together. Finally, the judge handed Regulus a bouquet of green hydrangea and roses. Regulus held it to his chest before leaning over to Yemima. He said something before sticking up a thumbs up. Yemima smiled, pressing a hand to her chest. James reached out and patted Regulus’ arm.

Regulus turned to face him. James said something that made Regulus smile. Regulus reached out and grabbed onto James’ medal. Regulus leaned down to admire James’ medal. You grinned, looking back at Sirius. You turned back to look at Regulus. He pulled on James’ medal before jerking forward. Your jaw dropped as you watched Regulus kiss James on the podiums. You pressed your hands to your cheeks, gasping loudly. James, leaned closer, standing up on his tippy toes to make up for the distance caused by the podium. You laughed as the photographer clicked away. Regulus pulled back and held his medal up in triumph. You cheered and shook Sirius’ arm. James held his flowers up, covering up his flustered grin. It was not often Regulus smiled. He grinned or grimaced. His lips would twinge sometimes. He’d have a soft smile that was more of just a flat line. But a flat-out, teeth and all-smile? It was uncommon.

Now with a flustered James next to him, a winner's bouquet in his arms, a medal around his neck, and a winner's check surely on his way, he was grinning with a good portion of his teeth. It’s the little things. He waverd around before leaning back towards James. Regulus whispered something towards him. James nodded, pulling the flowers away from his face. They both turned in the direction of your seats. Regulus and James pressed their fingers to their lips before sending their air kisses towards you. You pretended to catch the kisses.

After pictures were taken and most of the spectators left, Regulus met you and Sirius outside the rink. He had his duffle bag swung over his body and his bouquet still in his arms. You held your arms out once you saw him. Regulus picked up his pace just barely, making a weird run-walk to get to you. He wrapped his arms around you, the bouquet smacking your back. His weight crashing into you made you both rock back and forth. You muttered praises about how well he did in his ear. As he pulled back, Regulus pressed a kiss to your cheek. Sirius pulled him into a hug the second you weren’t holding onto Regulus. Sirius ruffled Regulus’ hair. Regulus groaned and pulled away, smacking Sirius on the arm.

“Lemme see the gold, you asswipe,” Sirius said. Regulus groaned throwing his head back. Regulus shoved his hand into his bag, retrieving the gold medal. He handed it to Sirius. Sirius cradled it in between his palms, smiling down at it.

“It’ll go perfectly over your favorite bookshelf,” Sirius said, sarcastically. Regulus snatched the medal away before sticking it out to you. It was heavier than you thought it would be but it still caught the setting sun. You handed it back to Regulus before looking over his shoulder.

“Where’s James?” You asked. Regulus’ face fell. He reached out towards you, grabbing onto your wrists.

“I’m so sorry for kissing him before talking to you. I got caught up in the adrenaline. I should’ve talked to you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Regulus said, staring at you with worried eyes. You’d compare him to a sad puppy but he was truly more cat-like. You smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Could not care less. It was hot-“

”Gross.” Sirius muttered.

“-and I’ve been waiting on you to be ready so we can make a move but this was the most dramatic way to confess. I suppose that’s what I get for dating a relative of Sirius.” You heard Sirius groan next to you.

“You guys are total bitches.” Sirius muttered. Regulus hummed, keeping his eyes on you.

“But yeah, James is calling his parents to let them know he got silver.” You nodded, glancing back at the door to see James jogging towards you guys. James was holding onto his bouquet with his medal around his neck. His duffle bag was swung around, bouncing against his back. He finally reached you guys, glancing at Sirius.

“Speak of the devil,” Regulus muttered. You quickly attacked James with a hug. He grunted, hugging you back. You pulled back.

“You did so amazing you have no idea, you were gorgeous out there.” You said, walking back to your spot. You reached out for Regulus’ hand, intertwining your fingers. James glanced down at your hands, an uncomfortable look gracing his face.

“I know I can’t believe I beat Yemima. She was spectacular. Do you see that jump she did? She was like flying.” James said. Sirius nodded.

“I agree, she was amazing.” James glanced at Sirius uncomfortably. Regulus sputtered, lurching forward to point at Sirius.

“Where are my manners? James this is Sirius, my brother. Sirius this is James, possibly the first person I think would actually have a shot at beating me.” Regulus gestured between the two of them. James awed, staring at Regulus.

“You think I could beat you?” James asked, sounding incredibly touched. Regulus shrugged.

“With some training and maybe if I broke something but yes,” Regulus said, making James snort.

“Nice to meet you, Sirius.” James stuck his hand out to Sirius. Sirius shook it. James gasped and turned to you.

“I had no idea Regulus was going to kiss me. I’m sure it meant nothing. I’m not a homewrecker I promise.” You snorted at James, resting your head on Regulus’ shoulder. James stared between the two of you with an awkward look.

“No need to sweat it James, we’ve been thinking of asking you to join our relationship for months. Reggie just has chilly feet.” You said, grinning at James. Regulus groaned, pulling his head away from you in disagreement. You pulled Regulus back to you, kissing his cheek.

“I love you and your chilly feet, even though you leave underwear on the bathroom floor.” Your words were smothered by the squishy skin of Regulus’ cheek.

“He still does that? I thought Mother beat it out of him at 7.” Sirius muttered, smacking your shoulder with the back of his hand in shock. Regulus shook his head.

“No she tried, but I just started bringing Creature more caramel candies,” Regulus said. James raised an eyebrow.

“Who’s Creature? Also, your mother hit you?” James asked looking between Sirius and Regulus.

“Creature was one of our butlers, he really liked caremal. Once when I was a teen, I hooked up with this guy in a guest room, we had like thirty so nobody would notice anyway, Creature totally caught him trying to sneak out so I bought him three full bags of camamel candies and it was never mentioned again.” Sirius said. Regulus gasped.

“Oh yeah, I remember that guy. He asked me if he could collect my fingernails when I was asleep.” Regulus pointed at Sirius as he shared another childhood story that made you concerned. Sirius grimaced.

“Yeah, he was weird,” Sirius muttered, shaking his head at the ground before shivering. You looked over at James to find him sunken in on himself, clutching his flowers closer.

“Oh, you guys are traumatizing James.” You said, pulling away from Regulus to hold onto James’ arm. You started leading James away towards the car. You three carpooled. Sirius drove on his own, he only trusted his own driving.

“Yeah, I wonder what it did to us,” Regulus muttered. After you all said your goodbyes, You, James, and Regulus headed out for a late dinner. Over your food, you discussed the future of your relationship and when it was finally time to decline dessert, you had all decided that you and Regulus were officially dating James. And vice versa. You drove James back home. Regulus lugged James’ heavy duffle inside while you kissed James goodnight. James held the door open for you as you stepped down to his front doorstep. You held your hand out for Regulus as he moved past James. Regulus leaned up, smacking a kiss on James’ cheek before grabbing onto your hand and walking toward the car with you. The second you two got home, you both collapsed face-first into the matress and silently decided to never ever leave the house again.

In the morning, after you bribed Regulus to get out of bed with coffee, you went out to get the mail. You picked up the newspaper off the driveway and headed back inside. While Regulus was making his coffee and starting breakfast, you pulled the rubber band off the newspaper. You pulled open the paper, scanning the headline. ’Ice Skating prodigy, Regulus Black caught cheating on the podium’ in big bold letters sprawled over the paper. You looked down at the image underneath. It was of Regulus and James kissing on the podium. You glanced over at Yemima noticing now that her mouth was covered by both her hands in shock. You looked back at the picture of your two boyfriends, wondering where you should frame this.

“Your ass photographs well, you could bounce a quarter off that thing.” You muttered. Regulus looked up from the pan he was making breakfast with.

“Hm?” You turned the paper around to show the headline. Regulus frowned, moving closer to investigate. He grumbled.

“They make it sound like I cheated in the competition in the headline. Not to mention I didn’t even cheat romantically. They’re just too ignorant to understand non-monogamy.” Regulus tossed the paper onto the table in frustration, turning back to the pan. You hummed, picking the paper back up again.

“Well I think it’s a very adorable picture, I kinda wanna frame it.” You turned the page, searching for a very specific section. Regulus grumpily hummed, sounding particularly peaved about the whole thing.

“Oh yes, we should take to the rink when we go with my medal. They can frame it next to my suit and first medal.” Regulus mocked sarcastically. You nodded, turning more pages.

“Yeah, see. You’re getting it now.” You mumbled before finally reaching the section you wanted; the funnies. A week later, You, James, and Regulus were all standing in front of the glass case at Regulus’ rink. His new medal was hung next to all the other ones while the new newspaper clipping was hung up next to his framed suit. It took a good amount of convincing and Regulus pulling the ‘Do you know who I am?’ Card which he was not happy about. Nonetheless, the beautiful headline and picture of your two boyfriends was there. James’ medal was hung up in his home but you doubted it couldn’t be too terribly long before he had his own glass case.

[marlsswrites]

Books and Red Hair

Ice skating AU, part 6!!

August 6th - words: 1109

First part Previous part

James would quite like to think he was extra welcome at a library, but that’s just not true. He’s clumsy, he knocks books over and can’t whisper to save his life. He’s always either too quiet or loud enough to get himself kicked out. Last time he came to this specific library, the local one to his university, he played full volume music on his AirPods - blissfully unaware that everyone around him could hear.

So how someone managed to get him back in here was a mystery, but here he is anyway.

He trailed behind Lily like a lost puppy, keeping his hands firmly to himself and not the bookshelves.

“James you look petrified.” Lily laughed out in a hushed tone.

“I’ve been told multiple times that I am severely not wanted here.” He hissed.

Lily blinked at him a few times, raising an eyebrow and flashed him an awfully unimpressed look. “What did you do?”

“Me, Rem, pads and Pete might have started a small fire in here last year.” He bit his lip to stop the smug smile from forming on his face, clearly the look still flamed alight in his eyes.

“Don’t look so proud.” She swatted his arm. “I only brought you here because you promised me a coffee after work.”

He and Lily worked in the same little record store down the street, well it used to be just records, now there’s comics, posters, collectables, CDs, everything like that honey. They’ll normally pop into a cafe after, treating themselves to a coffee before going home, but today Lily needed to grab some studying materials from the library.

“Stay here.” She said as she started to walk away.

“I’m not a child!” James protested.

“Sure!” She flashed a sarcastic smile over her shoulder as he went, leaving James with a frown on his face as he wandered through the tables of people studying, taking a seat at one of them without paying attention to anyone around him.

-

After about five minutes, he started to pick up some of the hushed whispering around him as the sound of a few people sitting in front of him hit his ears. Now he fiddled with the pages of the random book he’d swiped from the shelf and - innocently - eavesdropped after he swore he heard a voice he knew.

“Reg can you help?” A hushed female voice sounded after a few flicks of a page.

“Yeah.” A familiar voice responded. “One second Cas.”

His head slowly lifted, a smirk appearing on his face as he realised who had sat next to him.

“Hi.” He propped his head on his hands and drummed his fingers against his cheek.

The girl only gave him a confused look, she had dark shining skin, adorned with a couple of dainty tattoos and stacked jewellery that reminded him of the stuff that Lily likes to wear. But she wasn’t the one James was looking at.

“What are you doing in a library?” Regulus gave a raise of his eyebrow.

“Okay ouch, and actually I’m just waiting for my friend to finish finding - uh - whatever she needs.” He shrugged.

“So that’s why you’re reading The Great Gatsby - but specifically the blank page at the front?”

His eyes flicked down to the book, where the only words written were ‘The Great Gatsby.’

“It has some writing on it.” He proclaimed.

Regulus just hummed, no sign of emotion on his pale, blank face, yet it seemed to hold the world. His eyes like once grey clouds drowning in water, his skin as milky and smooth as a white silk pillowcase, his hair curled perfectly and dark as it hung around his face like Medusas snakes danced.

“I’m sorry, how do you two know each other?” The girl - Cas he thinks - interrupted. “Because I could swear that Regulus here doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“I talk to you!” Regulus bickered. “And Barty, Evan and Pandora.” He counted on his fingers.

“Four whole people.” Cas gasped.

Stifling a laugh, James simply watched as the two went back and fourth, clearly playfully as they argued. Still, Regulus looked beautiful with a scowl, even better with a smile though. Even better while he skated, face stoic and wondrous, face on full display and body moving like a puppet controlled by the god of love herself.

“And me.” James smiled and battered his eyelashes, Regulus pointed and nodded.

“You never answered my question.” Cas pondered, looking between the two boys suspiciously.

Stuttering out an answer, James realises he didn’t actually have just one.

“Tried to buy a book, stalked me, stalked me again, and is apparently friends with my brother and my coach’s son.”

“Hey now, I didn’t stalk you. I-“ But he cut himself off when he saw the slightly smiling face of Regulus Black - covered slightly by his baggy sleeve - but still there. The end of his pen was placed between his teeth and a silver glint on his tongue catching the sun and shining like the star the paler boy is.

“I know.” He shook his head, still smirking slightly as he moved the pen to his page, scribbling slightly and leaving James to stare at the way a ring was slid onto every single pale finger, shining bright and jewelled - as he said - like the star he is.

-

Stretches of comfortable quiet later, he felt a hand tap his arm as the silence surrounded him. “I’m done.” Lily smiled and held up the books and couple of bookmarks up with a squeal. “You owe me a coffee, let’s go.”

“Right.” He looked between the redhead and the other two, Regulus’ head still in his book but the once cal, expression had been covered by one of tension and thorns sharp as daggers. “Bye!” He waved as he and Lily left.

“Yeah, bye.” He heard dully before he walked away, the sunlight splashing in on him as soon as he stepped outside, blinding his eyes and burning into his skin.

“I bought my girlfriend this,” Lily waved up a little flowery pin that she’d picked up from the library store she’d insisted on looking in seconds beforehand. “Isn’t it adorable.”

“The cutest.” James winked with a smile.

Yet he still couldn’t get the anguished expression of a star from his mind, burning holes into the once bright irises of his eyes, stabbing into his once radiating heart. Oh what he would do to wipe it away with one quick swipe of love, leave that smile on his face that he seems to feel the need to hide.

Someone like Regulus Black shouldn’t be hidden, he’s much too special for that.

Next part

[evans23]

Loving you is a losing game

Pairing : Judge Turpin x Reader OC

Summary : The Judge Turpin has married you by buying your hand to your father. Determined to not let him get close to you and even less reach your heart well kept under ice and resentment, you keep on to push him away. But after having been told that loving you is a losing game, something new seems to awake inside of you.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Forced marriage. Assault.

A/N : Hello dear 😁 here lay my first Turpin fiction. I didn't really know where I was going with it but here is it. I didn't proofread it so there are probably some mistakes, sorry for that. I forgot to mention I am not the one who came up with the name Richard. I read this name in the terrific trilogy “Judged and Sentenced” from @deepperplexity. Since then I saw the name pop up here and there and so, I suppose the name is sort of canon now 😅

Part II

Read also on AO3

You couldn't put up with the fact that he had bought you. But it wasn't really him, your husband, that you despised for that. It was your father. The man you thought you could always count on.

You had had quite an easy childhood with not too many constraints, which were rather rare at that time. You had been taught to read and to write. And you were a good writer. Such a good one that one day, a publisher from a local and independent Newspaper from London made you sign a contract to edit some of your short stories in his Sunday paper. And as he was well known in the literary sector, he put you in touch with a book publisher. This is how you became "Alexander Bryant" in the eyes of the public. Of course, you weren't able to be published under your real name. A female writer ? What an offense !

But you didn't really care as you were able to make some money from the sale of it. Some really good money, a rarity for a woman. It was fortunate as, for the biggest desperation of your father, you weren't, in any way possible, a good maid. You couldn't sew two points in a raw correctly, your cooking wasn't palatable at all and if you appreciated living in a tidy house, you couldn't spend more than one hour or less doing that.

But you didn't have to worry about it now as you had been married for two months to no one else than "The Death's Judge".

"How did it happen to me," you muttered to yourself, looking at you in the mirror without really seeing your reflection.

In fact, you perfectly knew how it had happened. You didn't know how and you didn't know where, but Richard, your now husband, had noticed you one day and since then, your faith was decided.

He came one day to your house with a bouquet of flowers for you. You had looked at him suspiciously. You knew who he was. His reputation preceded him of course but you also had a glimpse at him one day when you were at the court with your publisher and one of his associates to negotiate the terms of your new contract with a solicitor.

At that time, you didn't think anything peculiar about the man. You vaguely remembered having thought that he was quite handsome with his hooked nose, his tall frame and his charismatic presence. If you hadn't been forced to marry him, you would have admitted that you had found him alluring.

But here was the point : your father had sold you to the man.

That day when he came to your house with his bloody flowers and his absolutely not appealing smile. He had asked to talk with your father and you had fetched him as quickly as you could, afraid that he was in trouble.

He wasn't in trouble, nevertheless, the call of the money echoed deeply in him when Judge Turpin offered a generous dowry for your hand.

"I apologies to have to tell you are in the wrong Judge Turpin."

The man had looked up at you with a frown.

"This is the woman's family who have to provide you with a dowery and unfortunately, no one here is in measure to give you a penny."

It was half a lie as you kept your money in security into a chest under your bed. You weren't quite honest about your earnings with your father as he was quite a spendthrift. So, you helped him by giving him a small amount of money, keeping preciously the rest away to constitute a nest egg for later.

Absolutely not bewildered by your interruption and your statement, Turpin had grinned before announcing that you were the one making in mistake in this particular case.

"I had the sincere desire to marry you and as I just said, I will give a compensation to your father for the loss of his precious daughter."

You had retained a laugh, persuaded that never ever my father would agree to such an obnoxious offer.

You were so wrong. The Judge had let you some days to think over the offer he had laid on.

Tempted by this important amount of money Turpin was willing to pay to ensure that your father handed over your hand to him, your thoughtful father didn't need to think too long to accept his offer and in the blink of an eye, you were betrothed.

You had protested, swearing that you would prefer to kill you rather than marry the man, the deal was sealed without you having a say. In any way, no one was willing to listen to you.

During the ceremony, you were full of apprehension, afraid about your wedding night. But for your biggest surprise, nothing happened. After the party, the both of you retired in the privacy of his opulent mansion, he showed you your room and left you alone.

Your new house was daunting, not up to your expectations. The exteriors were quite imposing, displaying the wealth of the Judge, but the inside was… not really gloomy but also not really lively. It was as if the house was uninhabited. And you discovered later it was the case. Turpin, Richard as he asked you to call him, was seldomly at home. He departed for the court early in the morning and came back late in the night. Since your wedding, you didn't share a meal together and your only company was your maid.

For such a big house, he didn't have nearly so much staff as one could expect of a man of his stature would have. A cook, three maids, whose one had been hired exclusively for you, and the Beadle. You didn't really know who the man was and what clearly was his function beside your husband but you couldn't stand him. His ratty face didn't inspire you any confidence. He seemed deceitful and ready to betray his own mother if it could bring him any advantages.

"Like Richard," you said to no one as you were looking out the window at the crowd running around the city.

Hadn't you been so resentful about the latest events, you would have admitted that your life wasn't as bad as you imagined it would become after your wedding.

He didn't touch you that night nor any other after that. He didn't try anything which could have distressed you, didn't restrict you from any freedom you thought you would be longing for. You were allowed to write, he was more than happy to furnish you the papers and the ink you needed and he had arranged a room for you to make your office. You were allowed to go out, only on the condition to stay in the richest part of the town and you could visit your publisher when needed without his approval. His only wish was that you let your maid know when you were leaving the home. You weren't dupe, you knew that as soon as you set a foot outside, he was informed. But even if he was aware of each of your movements inside and outside the mansion, you were still able to enjoy your freedom, a privilege a lot of women lost after being married.

He also lavished you with presents. Valuable jewelry, the most beautiful dresses you had ever seen, books, flowers. Not a week had passed without an attention for you. In the beginning, you hesitated between bringing the presents into his office to let him know you didn't want to have anything to do with him but well aware of his reputation, you had been afraid of infuriating him. After all, you didn't really know the man and he could retake what he had given you at any time.

So was what you told to yourself rather than admit the truth : you were flattered and pleased to receive such beautiful gifts. Should someone have utter that maybe you could come to appreciate your husband you would fervently have denied it. After all, how could you become accustomed to him without having the opportunity to speak with him ?

The only moments shared together were on Sunday. Richard wasn't a fervent believer in God and neither did you, so you had a lazy Sunday at the mansion. It was the only time during which you ate lunch and diner together and during the afternoon, he systematically invited you to join him in the parlor but you rarely spoke to one another. In general, both of you were reading. Sometimes, you brought with you your ongoing book and he would ask you random questions about it. He had once admitted to having your previous literary work.

"And what did you think of it ?" you had asked with a feigned indifference.

Your stoicism hid your nervousness. You couldn't fathom why you felt nervous about his opinion about your work, but you were.

"Well my dear, It is unusual for a woman to write about such things as a vampire. Even less a love story like this one. Does the sexual tension between the human lady and the vampire make on purpose ?" he had asked bluntly.

You had nodded once, your cheeks flushing at the mention of some somewhat suggestive scenes from your book.

"Well, I am impatient to read the next part of it."

And that was all.

Mustering up the motivation you were lacking to officially begin the day, you pulled yourself away from the window and asked the help of your maid to get ready to go out. You had to go see your publisher and then, you expected to have a walk in the park to make the better of the sunny day, which began to spread ahead as the hours passed by.

But nothing happened as you had planned. While you were walking in the street, you took a side road to reach faster your destination. It was a dark, filthy little street dwelt with drunkers and dwellers. You weren't really scared as you had taken this path numerous times in the past and as long as you minded your own business, you weren't really in danger. At least, it was what you thought. How wrong you were, you realized when a callous hand had fallen on your mouth.

"Your lost little beauty ?" asked a raspy voice.

You shivered, trying with all your strength to get away from the man but his grip was strong.

"Don't make it difficult little beauty, you will like it."

You bit his hand to blood, which earned you a ferocious slap on the face. You fell on the ground, a bit dizzy, trying as hard as you could to pull yourself together but you didn't have the time than his hand clenched at your hair, pulling you violently towards him. Standing you up roughly, making you let a squirm escape your lips, he pushed you against the wall, a hand on your breasts, another trying to find his way under your skirt.

Totally paralyzed, you were unable to move or even scream. Your breath became heavy as you stayed motionless even though you knew what would happen next.

He has approached his face from yours, his foul breath caressing your lips, making you want to throw up, when a snicker was heard.

Not really moved by the onlooker, the man had run his tongue across your cheeks, which had the effect of waking you up from your trance.

You tried to slap him but he was faster and knocked your head with his fist.

"Constable !' shouted a voice.

In one instant, the man was pushed down to the ground by two constables. Behind them were the Beadle. The snicker-man.

"Having dared to touch the wife of the Judge Turpin…" he muttered, enjoying the moment.

"It is something that will send you right through your death," he added with a horrendous laugh.

You have been brought back to the mansion by another policeman while Beadle escorted your assaulter to the prison, clearly enjoying what he had witnessed and the fate of the mongrel.

When you arrived, Richard was already torn, the worry imbued all over his face.

"[Y/N], dear, are you well ?" he asked his voice full of concern.

He tried to take your hand but you pushed him away before holding yourself tightly to retain your shivers.

He didn't follow you as your maid came towards you to lead you to the bathroom where she ran a bath for you. You soaked in the water until it was cold. Then, you called for your maid. At any other time, you would have dismissed her as soon as your bath was ready. You didn't like having someone around you to help you with something as trivial as drying you off but you were exhausted and could barely keep your eyes open. But it's not your maid who entered into the room. It was your husband.

"Richard…" you whispered, not daring to look at him.

You felt suddenly wide awake, the tiredness dissipated and replaced with something else. You felt ashamed about what had happened. You knew it wasn't your fault, for that man had acted with malignancy and it couldn't have been the first time. At this thought, you bristled.

"[Y/N], let me help you," he said, stepping in carefully.

He dropped a thick towel around you but when he tried to rub you in the aim to bring some heat to your cold skin, you backed away.

"Don't be afraid [Y/N]. I just want to help you. I will protect you."

He tried again to approach you but then again you backed away, trying to shut him out from trying to break through your shell.

"[Y/N]," he said almost desperately.

You shook your head, muttering for him to go away.

"Leave me alone," you said with anger.

"No ! I want to help you," he replied, looking with disapproval at the bruises which began to form on your face.

"I don't want your help ! I want you to go out. Let me be !" you shouted.

"No ! You are my wife, my place is by your side."

"I'm not," you retorted.

"What ?" Asked Richard, his own anger boiling up quietly but surely.

"I am not your wife," you said with defiance.

He made one step towards you and this time you didn't move, holding his gaze with fury.

"You are my wife. We had wed in front of our families and of God !"

"God has nothing to do with our marriage. You have bought a wife as we bought a dog."

"I asked for your hand because I am in love with you."

"How ? How could you be in love with me ? We have never spoken together !" you shouted totally oblivious that the staff could hear you. "If you were really in love with me, you would have courted me properly."

"Would you have agreed ?"

You didn't respond as the answer was obvious. Never you would have paid the slightest attention to his advance, but there wasn't the point.

"So, no matter what, you get what you want by fair means or foul." you spit out.

"My patience grows thin, woman." he warned you.

"And what are you going to do ? Giving me a beating ?" you asked brazenly.

He clenched and unclenched his fists several times. Never would he have laid a finger on you on the purpose of hurting you but you were clearly unnerving him far more than anyone before you had dared to.

"I try [Y/N]. I try very hard. You are the one unwilling to make any effort to come to me and get to know me."

"Buying a hand doesn't mean you buy a heart !" you retorted coldly.

You were about to add something else, something you wish was hurtful but you didn't have time as he cut you off.

"I tried to talk about your writing, about your childhood, your hobbies. You always answered me with monosyllable, always with a bored look on your face. I gave you space, I didn't coerce you to oblige to your marital duty, I let you go out alone as a proper lady shouldn't do. And this is how you thank me each time. By pushing me away. Again and again and again. Each time I try to show you kindness, you answer with meanness."

He had said that in a calm, poised voice but his anger could clearly be heard. He had talked with the calm severity of a teacher who doesn't need to raise his voice to make his disobedient pupils obey.

"Richard," you whispered.

"Loving you is a losing game but things are going to change, woman ! I am not to let you mess with me anymore. Yes, mark my words, things are going to change for you woman !" he growled dominating you with his imposing presence.

His baritone voice sent some shivers along your backbone.

With one last look at your bruised face, he quit the room, slamming the door behind me.

You stayed there for a while, stunned by what had just happened. He was right. Now that you thought about all the moments he had passed with you, never had you let him reach you farther than the cold surface layer that prevented the world from knowing the real you.

You were so angry about having been bought like an animal that you had never tried to be more acquainted with him. He was right, never ever he could have had your attention, even less your friendship and certainly not your heart if he hadn't barged in your home. And if you were totally honest, you would admit that you begrudged far more your father than Richard for the deal that was made that day.

"But He still didn't have my heart." you reasoned with yourself.

But inwardly, you felt as if it weren't true anymore. Not totally. You couldn't tell you were in love with him but for the first time, you were ready to recognize that you felt something for the man.

Loving you is a losing game, had he said but at this precise moment, you felt as if you were the one losing the game you had settled the both of you in. You were losing the game of hatred in favor of love. And this night, whilst you were staring at the ceiling, you found yourself hoping that he take back his words, that he came to the conclusion that loving you was worth it.