#sister I’m trying to hold off the lightening and help you escape from your head 💔💔

[a-nice-egg-offering]

Sometimes I will pretend that the twins are soft just as a little treat

[goldentsum]

— pretty little liar

PAIRING: eren x reader

WORDCOUNT: 5.3k

SUMMARY: eren has a lot of pride and he knows that though he curses his stupid pride and big mouth that always gets him in trouble.

TAGS: smut, slight fluff and crack at the end, porn with a little plot, modern au, college au, established relationship, femdom, sub! eren, dom! reader, whiny and needy sub! eren, crybaby! eren, reader is a tease and a meanie, implied sorority! rich! reader, reader has a tongue piercing, handjobs, overstimulation (male receiving), semi-public sex, car sex, unprotected sex (pls always wrap it before you tap it), spitting, degradation, praising. slapping

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I COULDN’T HELP IT! I COULD NEVER RESIST THIS MANS! long-haired/man-bun eren? AWOOGA! also because the latest chapter fucked me up-- :((  i need to get it out of my system HAHAHHA to the ones who waited for this, hereee! get yall’s eren smut!! unedited!! 

eren sighed, a bit tired and because of the incoming headache from the loud music and the alcohol that he has been drinking. college parties are both a pain and an amusement. his vibrant green eyes searched through the rowdy crowd for you, you said you were just going to get something from the kitchen but you were taking your sweet time, huh... 

the tall young man leaned against the wall, scrunching his nose at the scene of people grinding against each other and the smell of alcohol and sweat. he grunted and took a sip of his drink, trying to occupy himself and wait for you, his lovely girlfriend, who abandoned him in a room filled with hornyass people. 

a small pout appeared in his lips, hidden by the red plastic cup, as he grumbled under his breath. suddenly, a hand slapped against his shoulder making him jump and he turned around to glare at the person but as he saw your bestfriend, he eased down a bit, though still annoyed at the hard slap on his shoulder. 

“jaegerbomb! what’re you doin’ in the corner looking like a whole loner?” (f/n) snickered, a smirk in her red lips. eren rolled his eyes and answered with the most blatant tone, “(y/n) left me here” 

she laughed at that as she repeatedly slapped his arm. eren grimaced and tried to pushed her off without making her tumble down to the floor because it’s a little too obvious that she was drunk as fuck. “ahh, classic cold little (n/n)~” eren heard the drunk young woman snickered.

“anyway! how’s the relationship going? i mean, now that you two are together?” she asked, a smirk on her lips as she clumsily brushed her long pink dyed hair away from her face. 

eren cleared his throat, feeling a little shy at the mention of you and your relationship. “i-it’s fun..” 

the pink haired woman raised a brow at the shy response, thoroughly entertained at the flustered body language of the usual cocky and arrogant male, as she thought to herself, ‘oh, (n/n)ie~ look how this boy simp for you’ 

“ahh, i remember you were always tailing behind our precious wittle (n/n)ie~ though it’s not like that has changed. boy, you really got it bad” she hummed, tone blunt but amused. the brunette rolled his eyes, though his ears started to burn in embarrassment. he tried to keep himself busy with the cup in his hand and blew a strand away his face as he looked elsewhere beside the female in front of him. 

eren took a sip of his drink and his eyes lightened up when he saw you coming out of the kitchen with something in hand, talking to another female. (f/n), who saw this, smirked and asked, “you’re such a bottom” 

the brunette choked in his drink, liquid splashing against his chin and cup. he moved it away from him as he coughed, a little bit of the spilled alcohol sipping through his black t-shirt. he whipped his head towards the smirking female and glared, trying to look mean as possible though his shaky eyes and the still shock expression in his face makes it hard to take him seriously. “what the hell, (f/n)! why would you say that?!” 

“oh come on! we both know that no one can top that girl. it’s (n/n)ie we’re talking about here! the cold and scary female who makes people tremble under her gaze? there’s no way in hell that you can dom that... no offense, jaegerbomb” 

eren was at loss at her words, his pride was practically broken down in front of him while the (f/n) inform him as if she’s telling a well-known fact. something in his chest started to grumble and nudged him to deny it, to save the last bits of his pride. 

he knows he has a little too much pride and can be arrogant and his stupid mouth can’t be stopped once he start..

“that’s not true at all! i top her all the time!” he argued, though thankfully the music was enough to cover it up and not attract attention to him. (f/n) quirked a brow and looked at him up and down as if saying, “really now? you?” 

he felt the uneasiness when he lied through his teeth, he just hoped that you won’t hear anything about what he just said-...

she hummed then turned to where you stood with one of your and her sorority sister, “(Y/N)! YOU’RE A SUB?” 

eren gaped at her in surprise and horror and tried to stop her, grasping her arm. he then looked at you, his body went rigid and a sudden shiver ran up his spine when his shocked green eyes connected with your intimidating (e/c) eyes. your sorority sister looked at you in shock and said something to you but you didn’t remove your eyes on him. 

he gulped when your already sharp eyes narrowed. fortunantely for him, you looked away after a second to talk to the female beside you and eren let out a shaky breath and let the woman’s arm go while (f/n) let out a noise of confusion when you ignored them. 

“well that was confusing as fuck...” she muttered and then turned again to eren, who stood stiffly. “dude, are you okay?” 

“yeah...” he said absentmindedly as he cursed himself and the pink haired female in his head. she pursed her lips and shrugged nonchalantly, “well, maybe you do top her.. though i’m still sure that she won’t ever let anyone top her. that bitch gets a little too pissy when someone boss her around” 

“i’m gonna leave you here, jaegerbomb. this party needs a little more excitement, if you get my drift” the pink haired female snickered and slapped his arm once last time then left him to go who knows where. eren closed his eyes and massaged his temple at what just happened. ‘(f/n), you little shit... you just got me into trouble-’ 

his thoughts were cut off when he got hit by your familiar sweet perfume and he opened his eyes again, flinching a bit when he noticed you were already in front of him. 

“this is what you wanted, right?” your tone was as blunt and straightforward as ever. 

“w-what?” he stuttered out, heat filling his cheeks. you raised a brow and waved a small chocolate bar. “you said you wanted this earlier” 

green eyes locked with the candy and let out a nervous laugh, “y-yeah yeah! thank you, babe..”

you watched him shakily fiddle with the chocolate bar, a still and nervous smile on his face. you observed him, looking him up and down. you stepped closer to him and his movements stopped all together when you got closer. you raised one hand to move stray locks that escaped his man bun, your sharp nails scrapped lightly against his scalp. eren let out a shaky breath and looked at you with submissive eyes. 

“don’t think you’re off the hook, baby. we’re gonna talk about that little stunt you pulled.” you whispered against his ear, your teeth grazing his heated ears. the taller male’s breath hitched at that and he held onto you with wide eyes. 

you started to kiss down to place openmouthed kisses on his sensitive neck. you could feel his hands hold onto your cropped shirt, his actions confusing, not knowing whether he wanted to pull you closer or push you away. 

you chuckled at the aroused gasp eren let out. you let one of your hands trail down his abdomen, slowly creeping inside his shirt to trace his muscles. 

“b-baby, please... n-not here” you heard him rasp out, though his hands were clenched tightly against your shirt. you sucked and licked his skin earning you a small moan and grind. 

your hand that was inside his shirt, inched upwards to touch his nipples slightly and your thigh moved in between his legs, feeling his semi-hard cock. “what a filthy little slut you are, getting off in public” you whispered.

eren whined at your words, shaking his head slightly as his eyes were clenched shut. “n-no! ‘m not...” 

you chuckled at him, his words starting to get slurry already. you caressed his stomach, scratching the clenching muscles. “car. now, baby” 

you removed yourself away from him and smirked at his disheveled appearance that he quickly tried to fix, a shy and embarrassed expression on his face as his ears glowed red. 

letting your eyes soak up the pretty view, you hummed. eren cleared his throat and he fixed his man bun, tying it again, trying to look not too obvious that you two were doing something earlier. 

you then noticed something on the floor and snorted, “you dropped something” 

eren looked at you, confused, then followed your gaze and noticed the candy bar that you gave him earlier. he blushed a bit and went down to pick it up but not before retaliating, “i-i knew that!” 

you chuckled, not paying much mind to it, and looked around for (f/n) and once you saw her and made eye contact, you gestured to the door and lifted your hand that held your car keys that you got from your jean pocket

“aww, leaving already...? drive safe, (n/n)ie!” (f/n) bid, raising her red cup. you nodded a bit then grasped eren’s free hand, dragging him out of the huge sorority house. 

you two went to where you parked your car while eren watched you go to the side where the driver’s seat of the expensive car is. you raised a brow at him which made him blurted out, “w-we can go to my dorm, armin said he was going to his girlfriend’s earlier...” his words trailed off. you offered a small smirk then nodded, getting in fully and eren hurriedly did the same. 

the scent of expensive leather and the sweet scent of your perfume was all he smelled in the car and oddly enough, it made him even more antsy. your car started to purr as you revived the engine. eren watched you drive at the corner of his eyes, teeth biting his poor bottom lip whilst his hands ran up and down his thighs, legs a little shaky. 

you noticed this and clicked your tongue making him stop his movements. his breath hitched at the sound, uh oh he just broke one of your rules... but he’s just so needy, he can feel his cock painfully straining against his black pants. 

“what do you think you’re doing” you weren’t asking a question more like reprimanding him, tone brutally cold and it made him shiver in anticipation and arousal. 

“’m sorry... i, i j-just...” his words choppy and stutter-y

“speak up.” 

eren gulped, eyes lowered into his lap as he sat on his hands, placing it beneath his thighs, not wanting to anger you further or break any of your rules. 

“well?” 

he turned to you with a shaky breath, green eyes watching you with utter need as you drove with your usual stone cold face. “c-can you please touch me...” his words reached you though it’s volume was not even beyond a whisper. 

you let out a playful scoff, sharp eyes turned towards him for a second before going back to the road, “needy little slut, ain’t ya.” 

eren let his eyes drop to his lap again, gulping, as he pressed his lips into a thin line. the feeling of excitement rising inside him. 

the car was filled with silence, besides eren’s small pants and his occasionally shuffling around. you parked the car at the corner of the empty street near eren’s dorm. as soon as you stopped the car, eren reached over to you and wrapped an arm around your neck, kissing you frenziedly, and moaned at the feeling of your soft lips against his. 

though you didn’t move an inch which made him whine and he leaned back, half-lidded green eyes stared up at you. a shiver of arousal went up his spine when he saw your eyes turn dark. before he could apologize again, your hand went to grip his chin, pressing against his cheeks. 

“tsk. you’re really testing my patience tonight, love” 

eren whimpered at your words as he looked up at you with so much devotion and need, panting like a dirty mutt and lips pursed into a pout with your grip. 

“on the back seat.” he nodded eagerly and you removed your hand away from him. the tall man shimmied his way to the backseat as quickly as possible but he yelped when he felt a harsh slap on his ass before he sat himself on the backseat with an embarrassed face. “baby, please! don’t do that...” he muttered under his breath, heat filled up his face and he avoided your eyes. 

you scoffed, amused, and joined him in the backseat of your car. eren scooted over a little to give you space to go over. just after you sat, he moved himself closer to you and pressed his body against you. “(y/n)... please, ‘m sorry for what happened earlier.. just t-touch me please” he pleaded, face nuzzling against your neck as he inhaled your sweet scent. 

you clicked your tongue and grasped his hair, pulling it to make him look at you. he gasped at the slight pain and the pleasure that went straight into his groin and looked at you with lidded eyes. “you’re not getting away just like that, baby. we need to train you properly, you’ve been naughty all evening.” 

he whimpered at that and watched you come closer. you smirked down at him, he looked amazing as always. eren always looked better like this, pliant and needy.

you pressed your lips against his pulse, licking and sucking on it, and you loosened your grip on his hair, massaging his scalp. eren closed his eyes at the feeling of your lips on his skin, mouth open in a silent moan. you let your other hand wander, brushing against his bulge making his breath shutter. 

“(y-y/n)..” you heard him pant out but you ignored it, this was his punishment. 

your hand in his hair guided him the way you wanted and tilted his head back as you marked his tanned skin. you can feel his cock twitch against his pants, your nails tracing the outline. 

his hips jerked, trying to get you to touch him more firmly. you bit his still bruised neck from your previous escapade as a warning though the man only moaned shamelessly at your rough action. you unbuckled his belt, moving his pants down with both hands while eren moved as well to help you with it. 

eren watched you while you smirked at him, leaning closer to his face and his eyes shifted down at your red lips. he felt you nudge his nose with yours slightly making him smile a bit and he leaned up to kiss you but you moved back. the brunette furrowed his brows at your action, “(y/n), k-kiss..” 

you wanted to coo at his cute expression and words but you reminded yourself that this was his punishment. you kissed his jaw as you slipped your hand inside his boxers, pulling his thick cock out. eren hissed at the cold air nipping his sensitive dick, head tilting back against the car window. 

you pecked his cheek and let your other hand move his tight black t-shirt up to reveal his clenching abs as you stroke his length. you leaned back and admired the view, your precious boyfriend moaning so prettily for you as his glorious muscles contracted and his thick cock started to leak precum. 

god, he’s just so beautiful and it’s all for you. 

eren’s hips jerked instinctively when you swiped your thumb against his cock’s sensitive head and spread the precum along his length. he oozed out so much precum that it was so wet and sloppy.

your hand went faster, jerking him quicker, making him gasp as he held your wrist with wide eyes. you chuckled at his cute reaction but you didn’t stop nor did your pace get slower. eren let out a series of loud moans and he let go of your wrist so he can cover his mouth, breath heavy. you thumbed one of his nipples, his body shivering at your actions. 

“baby! f-fuck” he cried, letting his head rest against the window again and let you stroke him to his high. the alcohol buzzing in his system was making him more sensitive than usual and the possibility of someone catching you two in the car made him hornier. the wet and lewd sound that echoed inside your car guided him closer to his release, his thighs trembling. 

he could feel it, the pleasure building up as the band in his stomach threatening  to snap. your other hand moved down to cup his tightening balls and your lips replaced your fingers on his nipple. he sobbed at the overwhelming pleasure, his hips thrusting up, trying to match your pace. 

your tongue flattened and you let your piercing roll against the hardened bud, your boyfriend yelped at the contact of the metal ball against his sensitive nipple. 

“s-shit! baby! aHH-!” he moaned out, your hand moving even faster as he cum. his body convulsed at the sudden orgasm that hit him like a hard wave as thick ropes of cum spilled from his thick member, painting your hand and his heaving chest. you stroked his cock to prolong his orgasm. 

as he came down his high, a wave of sensitivity hit him when you didn’t stop your hand. he cried at that and his hand gripped your wrist with a sweaty and clammy hand but not really stopping you, his shiny and teary green eyes stared at you with shock. “ahh! (y-y/n)! wait! too s-sensitive!” 

you chuckled sadistically at him and leaned closer to him, “but we’ve only just begun” 

eren whimpered, body shivering at the overstimulation but his cum only helped him back to hardness as the slick feeling made him lightheaded. his body shivering and writhe at your actions, completely pliant in your hands. 

you slowly stopped and removed your hand, listening to eren’s heavy gasps and hics as he tried to catch his breath. your greedy (e/c) eyes soaked up the sight for a moment then you tapped your cum stained hand against his lips, “clean it up.” 

eren whimpered and his tongue peaked out to lick his cum, cleaning your fingers. you watched him lick your fingers with short but fast strokes and then you entered two fingers inside his mouth which earned you a lewd moan. he sucked your fingers in, tongue lapping messily around your fingers. his teary eyes looked up at you. you smirked and you pressed your two fingers down his throat making him gag but he only groaned and worked even greedily on your fingers. 

when you were satisfied, you slowly moved your hand away from him. your fingers now sticky with his spit and connected it to his open mouth with a thin line of saliva. “hah... ahh..” he panted, slightly drooling from his greedy sucking. 

you snickered and slapped his face twice, light enough to not hurt but hard enough to make a nice and loud sound and make his cheek tingle. “what a good little slut you are” 

eren moaned and his hips thrusted in the air, wanting to feel you already around his once again hard cock. 

you moved closer to sit on his lap. eren leaned his head to your chest as his hands tried to get rid of your pants, he wanted to feel your skin... no.. he needs to feel your skin. 

you looked down at him, halting your movements to watch him. he looked so cute, pawing your pants while whining when his shaky hands weren't fast enough. eren peered up at you through his lashes, his trembling hands on your hips. 

“go on, puppy” 

the brunette keened at the pet name and he pulled your pants down a little too aggressively, needy and craving to finally feel your soft skins against his. you run your dry fingers through his hair, tucking the loose strands behind his ear. when he finally tugged your pants halfway down your thighs, he moved you to your back to the seat to remove it completely then quickly worked on your top. you wanted to snicker at the utter desperation in his actions. it was cute, oddly endearing. 

eren hovers above you, eyes blown wide with lust as he let out heavy pants. his eyes darkened by lust admired your exposed skin, the way your matching dainty black laced bra and panties made him want to kneel before you was embarrassing. his attention then went back to your sharp eyes and gulped. he then leaned closer and whispered a small, “kiss?” 

without any other words, you grabbed his neck and pulled him closer to you as your lips pressed against each other in a feverish kiss. eren hummed at the feeling of your lips and opened his mouth in submission. you purred in approval and you slithered your tongue in his mouth. 

the way your hot and wet tongue twirls with his made him grind against your clothed pussy and the feeling of the ball of metal that gets caught in his tongue was making him hornier. your mound was hot and he can feel the wet patch on your thin panties. 

you pushed him, to change your position, without letting your joined mouths disconnect. eren let you guide him back, moving without resistance on his end as he was perfectly content and occupied with the way your tongue moved inside his mouth. 

you sat in his lap, feeling the hard nudge of his cock against your core making you sigh in pleasure. you held his face while you grind your pussy against him, the small stimulation on your clit was making you impatient. breaking the kiss, you stared at eren’s lewd face, panting with his mouth open while some spit slipped out of the corner of his mouth. “you’re so pretty,” you whispered which earned you a small whimper. 

tugging off your panties, you stuffed it in his mouth successfully gagging him. eren’s loud moans now muffled by your panties and he could taste your arousal that stained the cloth, his eyes rolling back to his skull at the familiar taste. 

you clicked your tongue at his dazed look, seeing he wasn’t paying attention you lower yourself onto his length. eren choked on his spit, that was pooling in his mouth, wetting your panties. his wide eyes looked up at you but it quickly closed again, getting lost in the pleasure when you continued to sink down on his cock. your wet and gummy walls sucked him in and it felt so fucking good. 

you moaned when he bottomed out as you sat on his lap, his length nudging your cervix. you felt his hands on your hips, gripping your soft flesh but not moving you, knowing that you would get angry again if he did. you cooed at him, your breath getting heavier. eren waited for you, his cock twitching inside of you. fuck, just the way your pussy clench and unclench around him was making him feel so good... 

when you started moving, the man slumped on the window letting you bring him to his high once again as he clutched your body against his, feeling your soft breasts pressed against his chest. you let out heavy pants at the way his thick length drag along your tight and wet walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot. 

“s-shit...” you cursed and eren groaned when you rode him faster. he hid his face on your neck, his hot and sweaty skin sticking against yours. you let your hand bury in his messy tresses as the other was placed on his shoulder for support. 

you adjusted your position and fully sat on his lap, your movements stopping as you listen to eren’s muffled low moans and pants. moving your hand on his back to caress his skin, you looked at him. “go on, baby. move.” 

the male gripped your hips, hiking you up a bit with his strength and started thrusting inside you in a desperate manner. you let your head lean against his collarbone and your sharp and long nails scratched his back, loving the way his thick cock pumped inside of you. 

your hips matched his thrusts, fucking him the way you know he likes. you straightened up, looking down at him as you bounced up and down on his dick. your car must looked like a fucking bouncy house with the way you two agressively move against each other but neither of you two cared, lost in each other to give a fuck. 

you moved your hand to his lips and removed your panties from his mouth, your eyes darkened at the wet cloth and threw it without looking where it landed. your baby boy is so drool-y and messy but it’s cute, the way he gets lost in pleasure and lets you ruin him the way you like. 

his pink tongue lolled out his wet mouth, his eyes rolled back to head as he fucked you, hips never faltering and thrusting into you at a constant pace that made you shiver. you gripped his cheeks making him look at you with lidded and fucked out eyes. “say ahh~” you cooed when he did as you tell him without hesitation. 

gathering spit in your mouth and with a loud pew, you spit in his mouth. you watched him moan and eyes rolling back once again, his thrust getting more frantic. eren felt your spit on his tongue and god, you’re just so fucking hot. 

“lemme see, eren.” he looked up at you and opened his mouth wider, tongue flattened inside his mouth. you smirked and slapped his cheeks repeatedly while you tell him how much of a good boy he is, “atta boy, you’re such a good boy~ now, swallow baby.” and he did. 

you moaned when his cock twitched inside of you and started meeting his thrusts again, fucking him back. your tight pussy clenched around him making him gasp, he was still so fucking sensitive but it feels so good, he just wants more and more. 

“touch me, eren” fuck, you’re so dirty. the male groaned and sneak a hand between your legs, finally touching your swollen clit. you moaned at that, it was the stimulation that you needed. eren can feel the wetness pooling down where you two are connected as he gathered some of it in his fingers to rub you easier. 

“(y-y/n)... fuck, you’re so hot...” he muttered, voice raspy and husky as he massaged rough circles on your clit, the wetness on the pads of his fingers made it much more stimulating to you. you scratched his back, drawing angry red lines on his tanned skin and you bit his bruised neck. 

the combination of the way eren fucked into you and the way he rubbed your clit was amazing and your orgasm was coming faster than you expected. “s-shit... just like that baby..” 

he shivered, he knew what that means.. you were close, so fucking close and so was he. loud wet slapping noise filled the car along with your heavy pants and low moans and eren’s gasps and groans. 

“cum inside, eren” you muttered, moans slipping past your pretty lips.

eren’s fingers rubbed frantic circles on your clit as you gasped, clenching down on his length as you cum, your body shivering at the feeling of the intense pleasure washing over you. the male beneath you trembled when he felt you cum, his own orgasm getting triggered by your wet and pulsing walls. 

his loud and deep guttural moans echoed in the car along with the sound of wild thrusts, riding his and your orgasm. after a while, his tired hips slowly came to a stop as the car was filled with heavy and worn out pants while you two slumped against each other. 

eren chuckled breathlessly making you peek at him and shook your head at his tired but still cheeky smile. “t-that was something else...” you heard him and you snickered. 

you felt his hand stroke your sweaty back gently. when you caught your breath, you slowly straightened up, you two moaned at the slight movement when your sensitive sex got nudged a bit as he was still inside of you. 

you let his softening length out of you as cum started dripping down out of you and onto his thigh and on the leather seat of your car. “shit.. that’s so hot” eren muttered, in trance, as he watched the way his and your cum dribbled out of you with a soft blush on his face. 

“it’s a bitch to clean that’s what it is” you groaned when the soreness hit you. eren chortle at your words and watched you move to the front to get your stored wet wipes in the car’s compartment. his eyes then drifted to your ass and smacked it without warning. you yelped and almost got sent over the front seat. you glared back at him as you grasped the container and you sat back down. 

“don’t look at me like that, babe! you were the first one who did it! i was just merely returning the favor~” eren defended himself, an annoying smirk on his lips. 

you rolled your eyes and scowled at your boyfriend, “maybe you should fix yourself up. you look like a hobo.” then ignored his offended gasp as you cleaned yourself and the leather seat. 

“hey! just so you know, this long and beautiful tresses always gets the girls!” eren pouted as he took the wet wipes you offered while you hum absentmindedly. “girls.. were they homeless too?” 

the tall male gaped at you and whined then nuzzled his face into your neck, “take that back, you meanie!” 

you chuckled and looked at him, tucking a strand behind his ear. “you’re just too easy to tease, babe” 

eren huffed, a playful glare on his vibrant eyes as he leaned away from you. the male started cleaning himself as well then fixed his clothes and his hair. after fixing his hair to a more neat man bun, he looked at the floor and saw your panties and smirked. he reached down and grabbed it with a victorious glint in his eyes. 

he looked over to you, listening to you grumble whilst you searched for your panties. “can i have this?” 

you turned back to him and your sharp eyes drifted down to his hands where he held your panties. you rolled your eyes and tried to grab it away from him but he moved it away. you growled at his fast reflexes. “give it back” 

“or what?~” he teased with the same godforsaken and annoying smirk he always has

“or i’ll kick you out of my car” 

eren laughed at your words and let you snatch it away. you groaned when you felt the wet cloth then looked at him in the corner of your eyes, “look what you've done, you drool-y motherfucker...” 

the brunette blushed and started defending himself, “hey! you were the one who shoved it in my mouth!” 

you clicked your tongue and flung it to him which he caught with a happy but confused glint. “whatever. have it then. i have a clean pair in your dorm, right?” 

“yeahhhh... clean...” 

you halted your hands as you were about to wear your jeans, you glared at the unfocused male that was ogling at your panties. you then slapped his arm which earned you a yelp and a pout

“what was that for?!” 

“you masturbated with my panties again?!” 

“i can’t help it! it was your fault for leaving it in my room anyway!”

[topazy]

Inside, outside

Pairing: 10k x reader, Addy Carver sister!reader

Warnings: swearing, kidnapping, drinks being spiked

Chapter: 1.11

You turn and peer out of the vehicle, finding no movement or signs of life while trying to ignore the crushing emptiness you feel inside.

“Do you think we will ever see them again?” Cassandra asked quietly.

“Mack and Addy?” Warren locked eyes with you.

You lean your head against the glass window, as a soft sigh escapes your lips. “It’s fine. Be honest about what you think.”

For days, nobody had mentioned either of them trying their best not to upset you.

She nodded, “Honestly? My heart says yes, but my mind says no.”

Doc shook his head, “I was kind of hoping they’d make it with us to the promised land.”

10K gave you a reassuring smile.

You felt guilty for being so sad. When the apocalypse started, you only had Addy, and now you had a group of people who felt like family. Even on the bad days, they still made you laugh and smile. You were never really alone. But your sister had just chosen a cult over you, and her boyfriend probably died trying to get her out.

And it’s hard not to agonise over that.

Warren grunts, “Now what?”

As soon as she realises how many cars are blocking the road, Warren spins the truck and drives onto a golf course. She stopped in front of a wooden bridge to see if it was strong enough to hold the weight of the truck.

You jumped on top of the bridge, “seems pretty solid.”

“Citizen Z calling all cars, calling all cars.”

Warren’s brows lift. “Delta- Xray back at you.”

“Hello, good to hear from you again. It’s been days, and I worry.”

“Thanks mom,” Warren quipped. “Any news on Mack or Addy?”

“No, nothing yet. Maybe they’re just off the grid and can’t make contact... For what it’s worth, Astra, I’ve overheard them talking about you loads. I know Addy will definitely be missing you.”

“Aww, wait! Can you always hear what we are saying?” You asked. You thought of the times you’d teased Addy about Citizen Z crushing on her, you hoped he hadn’t heard it.

Murphy snatched the radio from Warren's hands. “Murphy is pissed! Where the hell is that lab you keep talking about? And have you found that witch doctor that almost killed me?”

“I’m still working on that.”

“And you call yourself the NSA?” Murphy spat. “Quit looking at porn and find that quack. We've got business to settle.”

“Even nerds watch porn,” Doc elbowed 10K playfully.

“You’ve never watched porn?”

He pauses for a long minute, looking at you with an intense expression on his face. “Have you?”

You chuckled, “I plead the fifth.” Hearing a rustling sound, you spin round fast, “Z’s!”

You take turns firing at them until Warren and 10K both run out of ammo. You all retreat to the clubhouse.

You locked the door behind you, then noticed there was a person missing, “Murphy?”

“He’s safer out there than we are here,” Doc said, pointing towards a bathroom.

As the Z’s break through the glass doors, you, Warren, and Doc push up against the bathroom door. More Z’s pushed on the opposite side, making it harder. “This isn’t going to hold much longer!”

10K eyes light up, “gunfire?”

The pressure on the other side of the door lightens as gunfire echoes nearby. After a moment, a voice calls, “You can come out now.”

“That wasn’t Murphy,” you whisper.

“It wasn’t a Z either,” Warren says, with uncertainty in her voice. “All right, get ready.”

You pull the knife out of your belt, waiting for the door to open. When you exit the bathroom, two armed men and a woman are standing waiting for you. “It’s okay, it’s all clear.”

“Nice timing.”

“Don’t get too relaxed,” the woman says. “There is more out there.”

“I don’t believe it,” the younger man says.

You follow his train of vision to see Murphy playing golf outside, while wearing a stupid blazer that he’s probably stolen from a Z.

“Son of a bitch,” you say as you walk outside. “Did you not think of helping us?”

Murphy laughed at your words before confronting the strangers. “Who the hell are who?”

“Brett Zimmerman,” he said, motioning to the older man. “This is Henry and Janis.”

Warren stepped forward and introduced everyone. “I’m Roberta Warren. This is 10K, Doc, Cassandra, and Astra. The fool with the jacket golfing with the zombies is Murphy.”

—

You watch as Doc chews on a piece of meat from the grill. The strangers who saved you had invited you to stay for dinner. At first, Warren tried to refuse, but they insisted, and said you could stock up on supplies.

Brett poured a strange-smelling liquid into your glass and asked, “Do you have any ID, Miss?”

“Carver,” you answered. “And no, I don't think anyone does now.”

“Oh, well,” he shrugged before sitting back down. “I won’t be needing it now anyway, since I’ve already found out everything I need to know.”

“And that is?”

“You're a miss, not a Mrs,” he winked.

You struggle to keep your composure as a hand light smacks against your thigh. You give Cassandra a wide-eyed look, telling her to stop. She and Doc both found Brett's flirting funny, but 10K didn’t look impressed.

“So Warren,” Brett said with a smile.

You can see Warren nod her head and say, “Roberta.”

“Roberta,” he repeats. “Would you like to make a toast?”

Everyone minus you takes a drink as Warren raises a glass to absent friends. It doesn’t take long for Murphy to make the conversation about himself, as he starts telling them how he’s the saviour of the world. A look of concern crosses Warren's face.

You let out a snort, “Murphy tends to... spin his stories a little to fit his audience.”

Janis turns and gives you a cold stare, “We all know what we saw outside.”

“Only a mad man would believe him,” you chuckle, trying to pretend everything Murphy said was one big joke.

You lean back in the chair and go to take a sip of your drink, but stop when you notice Brett staring. His stare sends a chill down your spine.

You look across the table and notice 10K's head swaying. You reach across and grab his arm, “you feeling okay?”

He doesn’t reply. 10k slowly moves further forward until he is completely leaning on the table, and his head is pressed against his plate. “10K,” you say, shaking his hand. “Tom-”

Murphy cuts you off with a loud laugh, “he’s just had his first sip of alcohol. He’s passed out. Don’t fret.”

For a moment, you thought you were going crazy until the glass slips from Cassandra’s hand, smashing on the ground as she falls forward. Warren reaches for her weapons but falls to the ground.

You lock eyes with Murphy, and he looks just as scared as you.

Brett lets out a frustrated sigh, and pulls out his fun. “Now, what to do with you.”

“Let-”

You stopped talking when he pointed the gun at you. “Drink every drop, or I’ll blow your head off.”

You picked up the glass, your hands trembling as you brought the drugged drink to your lips.

—

“Mom!” Addy yelled, as she stormed down the stairs. “Tell her to stop stealing my clothes!”

Your mom let out a frustrated sigh as she ran a hand across her growing bump and said, “Addison, stop yelling, and Astra, ask your sister if you can borrow her things.”

You pouted. All Addy had done since her sixteenth birthday was whine and moan. “Whatever, Maggie’s mom is taking us to the cinema soon. I need to finish getting ready.”

Your mom raised her brows, “and where did you get the money for tickets?”

“Dad, he said I could go because I’d done all my chores and finished all my homework.”

Addy yelled from the other room, “Suck up!”

Your mum rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. But no sneaking into scary movies again.”

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the pain shooting through your arms. Your eyes open, and you see a blur of objects through a window. You are in the boot of a car with your hands tied behind your back, and a gag is pulled tight in your mouth, and you feel your anger growing.

You struggle to sit up, but when you do, anger fills you. Murphy is sitting in the backseat beside Henry. You begin to kick at the chairs and try to scream through the gag.

Murphy slowly turns to face you and shakes his head. You stop kicking and yelling. “Where the hell are you taking me?”

“Just enjoy the ride,” Brett said calmly. “We have food, water, and fuel. You and your friends had no food, no water and were running on fumes.”

“I mean, are these really necessary?” Murphy held up his cuffed hands. “Look, I get it. You heard everything I said, and you figured there might be something in it for you if you get me to California. But why the girl? She’s not special.”

Henry grinned, “We aren’t going to California. And we don’t mind having another pretty face to look at.”

Oh, shit.

You were really screwed and didn’t have a lot of options. You listened in to their conversation and the moment Brett says he left the others for the Z's, you realise you only have one option. You needed to get away from these people by any means necessary.

—

Eventually, Brett pulled over by the side of a river. When you heard multiple footsteps going in different directions, you thought they were going to leave you in the boot, but Janis opens it and yanks you out roughly. You land on your ass, sending a shooting pain up your back.

“Get up!” She snaps.

You get to your feet and start to struggle, trying to slip yourself from your cuffs, causing them to make a clanging noise.

Brett scoffed at you, “Take the cuffs off. If she tries anything, we shoot her.”

Janis reluctantly pulls out a small key and unlocks it. With your hands free, you pull the gag from your mouth and spit out the material that had stuck to the inside of your mouth.

Henry brushes past you, “Keep up! Or it’s the firing squad.”

You look over at Murphy, who is tilting his head. At first you didn’t understand, but then you noticed the camera. You feel relief flowing through you. Citizen Z would be able to help somehow. He always did.

—

You were now sandwiched between Murphy and Henry in the backseat of the car.

Murphy does what he does best, which is irritating people. After being openly mocked by Murphy, Brett pulled over to the side of the road. “Six miles from here is a pharmaceutical company. That’s where we are going next.”

“Can we please go to Disneyland next?”

Brett raised his finger at you and said, “he’s not replaceable, you are.”

You step back, as Brett explains their plan. Murphy's job is to walk into the warehouse full of meth zombies to pick up drugs for them. His part seemed clear enough, but yours didn’t. And that’s what scared you most.

—

You frowned when Janis slowed her pace and walked beside you. “Bet you are wondering why you are here, huh?”

“Yeah, you can imagine the scenarios running through my head.”

She tutted, “When you were inside, I overheard your little boyfriend and the old guy talking about you and how many great adventures you’ve had together.”

Your brows furrowed at her comment. You didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“They said you helped save a guy who was dying during a storm,” she said, sounding skeptical. “The old guy said you were one of the strongest people he knew.”

You give her a weird look and say, “Doesn’t explain why I’m here?”

“Henry is sick. So are others. People will pay good money to have a nurse look over them.”

“I’m not a nurse!” you notice Murphy staring at you. He looks up at the sky, then back down. You nod, understanding what he was thinking of. Citizen Z. “You should really go talk to Murphy. I’m sure he’ll enjoy your company more.”

With a scoff, Janis storms off. When you're sure none of them are watching, you slowly start to undo your belt, and slide it off. You gently place it on the side of the pathway.

When you stop for a break, you excuse yourself by saying you need to pee, so you have a reason to walk away. When you stopped looking for a tree facing the way you just came, you pulled out your knife and carved an ‘A’ into it, before joining the others. Upon hearing a gunshot, you speed up.

“What just happened?”

“Nothing,” Murphy said as Henry snatched the gun from him.

As Brett orders everyone to move along, you spot the blazer Murphy was wearing lying on a log. He was leaving a trail behind, the same as you.

—

When you reach a small ridge, Brett stops, saying that the place you're looking for is just on the other side. He steps closer to you and looks at you up and down. “You had more clothes on. What happened to them?”

“Oh,” you grabbed at your waist, pretending you didn’t realise you were now only wearing a thin vest top. “I didn’t notice I’d lost my jacket.”

“Or your jumper?” He held your gaze. “Hands behind your back.”

“Seriously? What if a Z comes?”

His jaw twitches in anger. “That’s not my problem, now turn!”

You comply and spin the other way with your hands behind your back. He puts the cuffs on tighter this time, and you groan as you feel the fabric tighten around your mouth.

“Go sit over there, and don’t move,” he orders.

You should go sit under the tree he pointed out. He’s fucking crazy. Janis gives you a sympathetic look before tying your feet together with rope. You were completely helpless.

As a scuffle breaks out between Murphy and the rest of the kidnappers. You tried to kick your legs apart, but it caused you to lose balance and roll down the slope. You cried out as you hit the bottom, and when you looked back, Murphy and the others were gone.

—

Hearing voices nearby, you stopped struggling against your restraints and listened.

“Mess pharmaceuticals.”

It was Doc. You tried your best to scream, but they couldn’t hear you. Fuck it. You managed to spin round and face the fence. You kicked at it hard, causing it to vibrate and make a loud noise. Luckily, a loud alarm distracted the Z's.

“What the hell is that?” You stopped kicking when you heard Warren’s voice.

“I’m down here!” You tried to scream out before kicking the fence again.

You could hear clatter from the radio, followed by muffled voices. You let out a muffled sob, knowing it would take a miracle for them to find you. Frustrated, you take all your anger out on the fence.

“10K, I’ve found her!” You can hear Warren yelling. “You get her, and we’ll get Murphy.”

Seconds later, the gag was pulled from your mouth. Tears spilled from your eyes as relief washed over you. 10K cut the rope, freeing your legs, then helping you to your feet.

He ran his fingers over your arms lightly, taking in the small cuts and forming bruises, “are you-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips against his. The kiss was soft, 10Ks' hands lifting to your face to hold you in place. You pulled back and let out a frustrated groan.

10K looked at you worried.

“I need to find the damn keys for these.”

He raised his brows, as if he’d forgotten your hands were cuffed. 10K put his arm around you as you walked towards the warehouse.

When you got inside, you went into a room filled with large boxes of drugs. 10K spotted the others and led you towards them, with his gun in one and the other on your back.

When you approached them, you noticed what they were all staring at. Murphy. Brett was standing beside him, holding a gun under his chin. “You are a weak man, Brett. You were going to kill me and everyone else and do God knows what with the girl.”

Brett’s voice shook as he spoke, “it’s the apocalypse.”

“The apocalypse is better off without you,” Murphy shook his head and walked away.

Seconds later, Brett pulled the trigger.

Everyone was stunned. Murphy had somehow made Brett kill himself.

You broke the silence, “can we please start looking for the keys to the cuffs?”

—

You woke up to the feeling of warmth against you. 10K had placed his jacket over your bare arms and was now snoozing softly behind you as your head lay on his chest.

Cassandra was sleeping as well. Your eyes trailed to her bandaged leg that had blood stains on it. It worries you that her wound still hasn’t healed. Murphy was sleeping as well, with his head resting against his jacket.

10K must have felt you move because his arm was wrapped around you tighter.

You relaxed into him until you heard your name, then you instantly stiffened.

“She must be going through something pretty bad, Doc. I would have bet my life on Addy leaving that place,” Warren said quietly. “Astra is holding it together a lot better than I thought she would.”

“Hard enough to think she’d leave Mack, but the kid back there?” He tutted. “We are dropping like flies.”

“Well, we'll have to stick together in the future,” she said after a brief pause. “Hammond, Garnett, Addy, Mack. Getting that bonehead to California is the only way to make our losses mean something.”

As your brain processed what she said, you blinked away tears. She was right. Getting to California was the only thing that mattered now. It was the only way to honour all those you’d lost during the mission.

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

I came back for you

Word count: 2123

Genre: Angst but happy end

Pairing: Natasha x gn!reader

Warnings: Abusive prison/government (let me know if I need to add any)

Request: Hey, so this is kind of a weird request, but could you do a Nattie x Powered! Reader during Civil War, where Nat, of course, is on Tony's team, and the Reader is trying to keep the peace between the two teams. Maybe the government takes (Y/n) and puts her in a shock collar like Wanda's because they think she was on Steve's team? Sorry this is so weird . . .

Summary: You are neutral in the fight, or so you think before you are told you can't be and are taken away with the rest of Cap's team.

A/n: Thanks @thewidowsghost for requesting this! Honestly I didn't plan on writing anything or posting anything today but I saw that I had a little bit of this done and to be honest my day has sucked so I needed a distraction and this worked perfectly. Also I could someone tell me how the formatting looks? I'm trying the new beta editor and I think I'm doing things right but idk. Anyways I hope you all enjoy!

As you take in the scene that surrounds you you can’t believe that you once considered everybody to be a big weird family. Certainly none of them are acting like it now. It breaks your heart to see them on opposite sides, throwing themselves at each other because apparently their personal beliefs are more important than their friends.

Neither of them are right or wrong in your opinion. There’s too many factors and both options suck, it’s the government’s fault for placing the team in this situation. However you are not happy with the way anyone is handling it, especially Steve, Tony and Natasha. Both Tony and Steve are acting based on what they think is right without considering the other sides to the story, although you can’t say that’s surprising coming from them. You do know that they genuinely do care for others but they can be very hard headed and neither of them like to be wrong.

It’s Natasha who you’re most disappointed in though, you thought that she would be a better negotiation, helping ease the tension but she’s out there fighting like the rest of the idiots. You thought that she would agree with you and try to bring together the two sides.

You narrow your eyes and zoom in your vision to the far side of the airport where you see Spiderman. You have no idea who he is but you can tell just by looking at him that he’s only a kid and it was irresponsible of everyone to let him be here and to fight him. You use your superspeed to get to him quickly and take him out of the way of flying cars and leave him by the side where it should be relatively safe.

“Stay here.” you tell him.

“But-”

You glare. “Stay here.”

You rush off before you can make sure he listens because you can hear a grunt of pain from Rhodney. He’s lying on the ground with Tony standing over him and Sam a few meters back. The fight seems to be ending now, you see the plane leaving and the rest of the avengers start to gather but it doesn’t matter because the damage is already done. You don’t know exactly what happened but it looks like a freak accident, somehow nobody’s fault and yet everybody’s fault for getting into this situation in the first place.

The mood is weird, as if everybody is holding their breath and taking in what they’ve done. In the background you can hear trucks pulling up and footsteps follow soon after. The first man grabs Wanda and she blasts him back lightly so he falls down. Immediately a circle forms around her, everyone pointing their guns. Clint takes a step in, raising his arms and trying to calm the situation down but the guns shift to him and one agent steps forward and roughly grabs him, forcing his wrists into cuffs.

They go for Sam next and he looks pissed but lets them cuff him without comment. Scott looks completely confused and out of his depth. You don’t know him but it’s obvious that he is not trained for these types of situations and is in over his head.

It’s Wanda that makes your heart break the most though. She’s like a little sister to you so seeing the tears in her eyes and the terror on her face as the agents move in to cuff her makes you want to wrap your arms around her and promise it will all be okay. But you can’t, that would be a lie because everything is not okay and trying to hug her would only make things worse.

The agents start to move away, leading Cap's team to their trucks to be taken away. One of them turns back and notices you, murmuring something to the agents beside them. Before you can even understand what is happening they are right back and grabbing at your arms roughly. Naturally you try to pull away but they are strong and once you realize what is happening you stop struggling.

“I didn’t pick a side,” you try to explain, “I was just trying to make sure everyone was okay.”

“You didn’t sign the accords and therefore have no right to be here.” one of the men tells you. You look towards Tony’s team for help but they all seem to be busy. Tony and Vision are trying to make sure Rhodney is okay and the kid is luckily back where you left him. T’challa is shaking hands with one of the agents and although it makes you sick because of the way they are treating some of the others you understand, he does have a country to run and his people must come first after all.

Natasha is the only one not doing anything and she meets your eyes. You silently beg her to do something, anything against what is happening. She stares you straight in the eye and shakes her head. You actually shiver at how cold her look is because you never thought that would be directed at you, you thought that the two of you were close.

“I’m not going to help you Y/n, you made your own choice and I made mine.” Is all she says before turning away. You watch her back as long as you can as you are led into the trucks, wondering how everything went wrong so quickly.

---

Nobody talks. You aren’t even sure if you’re allowed to. There is no way what they are doing is legal but who is going to argue with the government. A secret prison built just for enhanced individuals and imprisoning people without trial isn’t right. You were neutral before but the more you see of how the government operates the more you start to lean towards supporting Steve and the rest of his “team”.

You shift slightly because the shock collar is getting even more uncomfortable. Wanda is wearing one too, probably since the two of you are the only ones that have powers unrelated to technology and suits. She looks smaller than ever in her cell and you close your eyes because if you continue to look at her you know you’ll end up crying.

Nothing changes throughout the day until you hear the door creak open. Everyone glares when they see it’s Tony and he and Clint share a few words before Tony practically begs Sam for information. Sam’s reluctant but gives in, seeing that Tony is sincere and knowing that although he disagrees with Tony it’s not really his fault that you’re all here, it’s the government’s.

When Tony leaves things go silent again for a few hours. You haven’t been fed since you’ve gotten here, you realize, but you aren’t hungry anyways, your mind can’t stop picturing the fight, being arrested and most of all Natasha’s attitude towards you. It hurts even more than you would like to admit. You considered her your best friend but you also had feelings for her and you were dumb enough to think that just maybe she felt the same things about you. Obviously that is completely untrue and you wonder if even your friendship was a lie.

“How long do you think we’ll be stuck here for?” Wanda asks finally and although her voice is quiet you wince at how it breaks the silence.

“I don’t know kid.” Clint responds. “Too long. My wife is going to kill me and my kids-”

He stops himself, getting a little choked up which surprises you. You’ve never seen him this emotional before.

“I already miss my daughter.” Scott adds on and there is a moment of understanding that passes between the two of them.

“I don’t have my own family but I’m going to miss my sister.” Sam says. “She probably won’t even find out what’s happening until it’s on the news, if the news even covers it.”

“I miss the team.” you add. “Before this fight, we weren’t perfect but I considered everyone family.”

“So did I.” Wanda says and you all take a moment to miss what used to be.

“I miss pizza.” Sam jokes, trying to lighten the mood. It works and soon everyone is adding on ridiculous things they miss and things they want to do when you get out (you can’t even think about the fact that the “when” might actually be “if”).

Your eyes snap to the door when it opens and everyone shuts up immediately. You look warily at Natasha, unsure of why she’s here. Maybe the government sent her in to interrogate, god knows she is amazing at that and you honestly wouldn’t be able to not talk to her, as much as you’re mad at her right now.

She doesn’t speak, going straight towards Sam’s door and kneeling down, fiddling with the lock. After a few seconds it clicks and the door swings open.

“When did you switch sides?” He asks, raising his eyebrows, impressed.

“I don’t pick sides, I do what makes the most sense and right now breaking you out is the right thing to do. Besides I’m wanted now too, apparently the government doesn’t like it when you aid fugitives in escaping.” she responds smoothly, moving onto Wanda’s cell and repeating her actions until it opens.

“Do you know how to take the collar off?” she asks and Sam nods. He gets to work while Natasha moves on. Both Clint and Scott pass at her offer of freeing them. They both look like they’re itching to escape but you respect that they’re putting their families first.

You’re surprised by how emotional you get when she unlocks your cell. You thought she didn’t care about you so to have her here now is amazing and makes you feel bad you ever doubted that she would do the right thing.

“Y/n, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” she tells you as she undoes your shock collar carefully, doing her best to not hurt you.

“I-I thought you didn’t care about me anymore.” you admit, a single tear dripping down your face.

She wipes it away with her thumb. “Oh sweetheart I care about you so much, more than you could ever know and I want you to always remember that, promise me.”

You nod, sniffing. “I promise Tasha.”

“Good because I came back for you and I will always come back for you.” she says, leaning in closer. You look down at her lips as she continues to lean in because she is so close and it seems like she’s going to kiss you.

“Glad to know Y/n was the only reason you came back.” Sam says, smirking. You love him but you also want to strangle him right now, that bastard could totally see what was happening and ruined the moment on purpose.

Natasha flips him the finger but otherwise ignores him. “Steve and Bucky are waiting in the jet outside, I was able to dismantle alarms and cameras but we only have a few minutes left so follow me and be quiet.”

She grabs your hand as she moves out of your cell and you walk with her, the others trailing behind slightly. The halls are clear and it’s only a few turns before she ushers everyone into a vent. It’s a tight squeeze but you make it through and you pop out to find sturdy wires attached to the side of the raft coming from a nearby jet. Wanda and Sam each take one and their wires retract, pulling them into the jet. You gulp nervously, heights are definitely not one of your favourite things.

“We have to go Y/n.” Natasha whispers just as alarms start to sound, the noises loud with flashing lights.

You take a deep breath and grab the remaining wire and once you’re secure Natasha grabs it too. Closing your eyes tightly so you don’t look down you feel a strange whooshing sensation before it disappears and your feet touch down on the jet floor.

“So what next?” Sam asks once you’ve all collected yourselves, directing his question at Steve.

“We lie low and try to help as best we can.” he responds, sighing heavily. “We’ll figure out the details as we go, what matters is that everybody is safe.”

Natasha holds your hand again and squeezes it tightly. “And that we are together.” she whispers into your ear so only you hear.

You squeeze her hand tightly back. Your relationship with her has gone through a rollercoaster of a day and is mostly undefined but she’s right, all that matters is that you’re together now and you wouldn’t rather be with anyone else.

---

Taglist: @fayhar @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @acertainredhead @madamevirgo @megaqueenmaeve @cherryblossomskye @aaron-despair @chickenhavewisdom @emril-osvigne @nyankitty987 @agathaharkness-simp @thewidowsghost @nyx-aira @stephanieromanoff @satxnsupreme @likefirenrain @wlwlovesreading @stop-drop-and-drumroll @peggycarter-steverogers @casperlikej @redswing @mochamoff @king-star @blackbat2020

[extremelyblackandwhite]

ascendance - 03

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: abduction, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

A/N: it’s short and still not as exciting as it is about to become but we gotta build a ✨ foundation✨  first. hope you enjoy xx

> NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

Bucky was standing in the kitchen, back leaned against the counter of the kitchen with his eyes on the girl who was currently sat in his couch with a badly bandaged hand. He was never good at first aid, he hadn’t been good at it with his sister and he definitely hadn’t been good with her, yet he thought it would be best than let her bleed out onto her costume which she still hadn’t taken out and that included her wig. He knew what hair looked like, he could see it in the back of his mind from the dark costume room, her hair pushed back into the same hairstyle most of the girls in the opera house had. Yet he also knew that getting out of her costume was the last thing going in her mind despite him not knowing at all what was going on in her head. She just stood in silence, looking at the wall of the TV but the TV was off, despite the fact the remote was next to her. 

What was he even supposed to do with her? He couldn’t tie her to the bed or hide her in the basement, he didn’t have a basement. Besides, he didn’t know whenever she’d actually be used as a trading chip so he didn’t know how long he would have to babysit her. How was he even supposed to do John’s bidding if he had to keep an eye on her? It wasn’t like he could leave, she would try to escape. Heck, she’d even try to escape when he was in the apartment. This was a mess, a mess he needed to clean, a mess he didn’t know how to clean. 

The door bell was the first sound in that flat for 2 hours and he sighed out of relief he could finally leave and not have to stare at her and her Bambi like stare. Damned Billy. 

     - She’s a runner. - Bucky said as he opened the door, a stunned Billy walking in like a scared little mouse. - I’ll be gone for two hours. Make sure she’s okay, not bleeding and definitely not escaping. 

Billy nodded his head like a bobble doll, standing stiff by the door as Bucky grabbed the keys to his bike and left. Y/N finally looked up, away from the wall and at Billy. He couldn’t be older than her, and if he were, he couldn’t be more than a year or two older than her. He had shaggy hair and eyes which were filled with insecurity and fear yet a facade of strength which he definitely did not have. She should’ve been mad at him, after all he was the one who misunderstood the assignment (whatever it was) and got her hostage. Yet, she merely saw a boy who was scared, perhaps as scared as she was. 

    - I’m Y/N. - she pipped up as if the two of them were co-workers who were just meeting.

    - Billy.

    - Is that a nickname or a name ... you know like Billy Bigelow. 

    - Billy Bigelow’s a wife beater. - he snickered. - My name’s William but they call me Billy.

    - Do you like being called Billy? I can call you William if you want. 

    - Will.

    - Pardon?

    - I like being called Will but John said it sounds childish. - he clarified, slightly kicking the air like a petulant child. 

    - I like Will better. - she moved towards the end of the couch, patting the pillow next to her. - Do you wanna sit?

   - He doesn’t like it when people sit in his couch. 

   - Well .. I’m sat in the couch and he didn’t say anything, besides, how would he even know you were sat in the couch. 

There wasn’t much she knew about the man who had been overseeing her. She didn’t even knew his name other than the “Soldat” nickname she’d heard John call him. It wasn’t like she particularly cared about knowing him, after all he was the one who was keeping her hostage and he was also the one who had kept her alive. Yet, at this point she wondered if being alive was a faith worse than being dead. How bad is death anyway, she pondered. Maybe it hurts to leave, but it doesn’t hurt to stay dead. She wanted to believe in what he had told her, she wanted to believe that all of this was just a big nightmare, it was just a hiccup in her path. She was gonna go back, she was going back, she had to go back. She had no choice but to go back. 

Her eyes lingered on the broken window, covered by a piece of cardboard tapped to the broken glass, a shattering reminder that she had failed at escaping, had failed at leaving. She should’ve fought harder to escape, she should’ve said no when the main soprano asked her for help. She should’ve just ... done what she was hired to do. The mere thought of the opera house made her eyes swell with tears. She had been so close.

    - I’m sorry. - Will blurted out, his words causing her to immediately wipe her eyes before the tears could actually roll down. - I screwed up, didn’t mean to ruin your shot. 

    - That’s ... that’s fine. - she breathed out. - They’re gonna let me go at some point, right? They can’t keep me forever.

    - Yeah, eventually someone else will screw up. - he scratched the back of his neck. - It’s nice he didn’t tie you down or handcuff you to the bed. 

    - It’s a nice ... arrangement, I guess. 

    - Do you wanna watch Carousel? It’s always rerunning on channel 6. 

    - Are we allowed to watch TV? If you’re not allowed on the couch, I doubt the TV is a yes. 

    - He won’t know.

The beginning of the film was bittersweet as it immediately took her back to better days. Back to when she rented her very first flat in New York while a sophomore at Julliard, when she only had her laptop and a few pillows which made the very old studio flat look like a home, she would sit down in the worn out mattress with her laptop and watch old golden age musicals dreaming of the time she would be on stage. The beginning notes of the overture only brought her back to nights when the rain was harshly falling down on the rain and she was sat in her, open books of several opera music theories lightened up by the low blue light of her laptop. She had fought so hard and she was going to fight even harder to get out of this. She was going to be back in those grounds and with heavy, sleep filled eyes, she swore she would get back to the stage. 

Bucky parked the bike by the sidewalk, sighing as he realised he was not going to an empty home, the same empty home he had fought for. He liked peace and quiet, he liked to be surrounded by nothing but him and his thoughts yet now he had to come back to some girl staying in his house who was keen on breaking all off his windows. Just what he needed, someone coming into his home to fix the window. How was he going to achieve that? 

He opened the door and threw the keys somewhere onto the table near the door. Billy was standing up by the couch, Carousel was playing on the TV and she was sleeping on the couch, surrounded by the fabric of the costume she still hadn’t taken off. Not that she had anything to change into.

   - She’s sweet. - Billy rubbed the sole of his shoe against the ground. 

   - You think all girls are sweet. - Bucky walked to his kitchen, making himself a glass of whiskey. - You old enough to drink, kid?

    - I have to drive back home. 

    - She behaved? - he moved the glass in her direction, eyes lingering a bit too long on her sleeping figure. 

    - She fell asleep mid the film. Hm ... I’m gonna go. Thanks for everything, Bucky, specially with John. 

    - You should get going, kid. Your mother and father will worry.

The sound of the closed door left the two of them alone once again. What was he supposed to do with her? How was he even supposed to do his ... his duties if he constantly needed someone to watch her so she doesn’t try to escape? Where is he even supposed to find someone to watch her? Kidnappingvictims babysitting.com? He sighed out of frustration, whipping his head in her direction almost upset she existed; yet, looking at her sleeping form calmed down his features.

He put the glass in the sink, walking to his couch where she was. Somehow he always ended up in tricky situations and this had to be in the top 5 worst decisions. Yet, she didn’t deserve dying, she didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t her fault any of this had happened. She was just at the wrong place, she was just somewhere she shouldn’t have been and Bucky couldn’t blame her for that. He put a hand on the couch and snaked an arm under her figure, lifting her up from the couch and holding her flush against his chest. Her head instinctually fell against his chest, nose nuzzling his black t-shirt.

There was nothing he could do now. In all honesty, he couldn’t think of anyone in his inner circle where she would be at least in safety. The group of people he hanged around weren’t particularly of high moral standards and he wasn’t a saint either, god, he was closer to being the devil than being a saint; yet, he knew things and he knew what awaited her if she had been assigned to anyone else. In his mind all of this would be over soon; either Billy or one of the newbies would screw up and get them in trouble with the police and then John would trade her in so he wouldn’t go to prison. It was only a matter of time. 

He laid her down on his bed, pulling the comforter over her and taking a final look at her before exiting the room and taking to the couch. He pulled at the bottom of the furniture, the pillows unfolding to form a small bed which his feet would inevitably fall off, yet they didn’t make any bigger couches which turned into beds and he had never expected to have any company in his flat anyway. He too eventually fell asleep, lit by the low blue light of the TV. 

The morning was a harsh reminder for Y/N that this whole situation was not a nightmare but her reality. Her hand pushed her torso off the bed, sleepish eyes looking around as she tried to figure out where she was. She didn’t remember falling asleep in a bed but that didn’t matter because she quickly realised she was alone. She couldn’t hear anything but the ambience sounds coming from the window. She was alone. As that thought registered, she kicked the comforter away from her body and settled her feet to the ground, rushing in silent steps to the door which she opened. Her eyes registered a clear path from where she was to the exit door whose chain was down. She bite on her lip before stepping out of the bedroom.

    - Where are you going? - the familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. Y/N considered making a run from it but just as she convinced herself of that idea, he stepped in front of her, standing like a big wall keeping her from freedom. He looked her down, like a small, inoffensive prey. She thought of running once more, but she was smart enough to know he would easily overpower her. - Where are you going? 

    - Hm ... - think, anything, just think of anything. - The bathroom.

He scoffed, walking forward and towards her but she stepped back every time he got closer until her back hit the door. She stood there, small and wondering what to do as the man whose name she still did not know stood close to her, close enough she could almost feel the permeating heat coming from his body. His gloved fingers pinched her chin, pushing it up so her eyes looked into his. They were blue, a shade of blue she couldn’t really say she’d ever seen and maybe if she were in a different situation, she would’ve even said they were hypnotising. Yet, now, they just bore into hers, as if he was digging into her subconscious. He leaned closer, fingers still holding her chin up.

    - Liar. - his voice was deep and husky, deep enough it sounded like a whisper. He let go of her chin, stepping back and returning to the kitchen while she remained against the door. - We had a deal. 

    - I know. 

    - Are you trying to get yourself killed, kid? - he asked in a dry voice. 

    - Don’t call me kid. - she didn’t know what else to say. What could she said after all? - It’s condescending. 

    - You didn’t answer me, Y/N. - he emphasised her name. It sounded almost wrong for him to be calling her that, yet she guessed it was better than kid. Sure, he was definitely older than her but she wasn’t young enough to be called kid. She couldn’t even recall the last time someone called her kid. - Are you trying to get yourself killed?

    - No. 

    - Then what are you doing?

    - I don’t know.

    - You need to trust me. 

    - Why should I? I don’t know you, I don’t even know your name so why should I trust you? For all I know you could be lying to me. 

    - You think I wanna play babysitting with you? I would much rather have a free home than have you run around in costume. - he glared at her. - And you don’t need to know my name, you need to do what I tell you to do if you wanna come out of this alive. 

    - Well what if I don’t want to? - she narrowed her eyes. 

    - You want to fucking die? Is that it? - he sneered. - Because that would’ve saved the fucking headache that you’ve been. 

    - Maybe you should’ve killed me. You had no problem killing Tommy. - her words were mindless yet filled with some sort of anger. She didn’t realise what she had said until she saw his face.

His facade seemed to drop before his jaw clenched, eyes hardened as he raised his head to look her up and down. She held the knob of the door, ready to open it and escape into the bedroom but he didn’t do anything. He just looked at her, angry before he made a move yet he didn’t walk her direction, he merely opened the fridge to take a water bottle yet that look, that look still remained. 

   - What do you want from me? - she pried. - I had a life, you know. I had plans and ...

   - So did I. You don’t wanna be a kid? Stop acting like one. 

   - My parents don’t know where I am. - she followed him into the kitchen. - I am their only child and I call them everyday. At least, let me call them, let me tell them I’m safe.​

   - I can’t, that’s not how things work. 

   - So what? You’re just gonna keep me here? Forever?

   - Trust me, kid, it’s not exactly what I want either. It’s not my choice and it’s definitely not yours. 

   - I am not gonna stop trying to escape.

   - Based on how well you’ve done so far, I wouldn’t hold my breathe. 

TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying @buckyswillows @blossomslibrary @juliesland @iloveshawnieboi​ @unmagically @red-head011

[fire-lady-ilah]

More good dad! Ozai AU? Even if you didn’t ask for it, you’re getting it and I’m picking up right where I left off. This is my reminder that, while Ozai is a good and non-abusive dad and husband in this, he is still very much an imperialist and a cruel person in general.

Parts [1] and [2] if you’d like. This is part 3. Here’s part [4]

The siblings venture into the capital, although they make it known that no one should inform their parents that they are nearby. The moment they step off the ship, Captain Jee sends a letter to the Fire Lady. He was loyal to the Prince and Princess above all, but he did not feel like being executed or exiled that day when Lady Ursa inevitably finds out.

In a large house just outside Caldera City, Lord Ukano lives with his wife, Michi, his daughter and heir, Mai, and his newborn son Tom-Tom. The Dragon Emperor and the Blue Spirit sneak into the bedroom of the heiress and steal her away.

In that I mean, Mai leaps at the opportunity to escape her home with her best friends, who she’s seen wearing the same theatre masks dozens of times, and follows willingly. It takes an hour longer than the siblings had expected, if only because Mai has far more knives than they had truly expected and they get caught up in the palace kitchens stealing Azula’s favourite mochi and some bags of fire flakes.

Then they are caught by Fire Lady Ursa, who is gathering a late night cup of cocoa after a nice night with her husband, not that her children need to know that part. Her children, who are wearing her theatre masks that had very recently gone missing from her collection, stare at her innocently. Her daughter carries two entire boxes she knows are full of mochi. Her son carries the fire flake bag they use for festivals. Her one day daughter-in-law is making a cup of cocoa and the Fire Lady calmly requests one for herself from the girl.

That night, the fire Prince and Princess sleep in their own rooms, with Lady Mai in one of the many available. In the morning, they take breakfast with the Fire Lord and Lady, discussing trivial matters of politics and domestic affairs.

Mai leaves on the request of the Fire Lord, bringing everything they took from her home and the palace (along with what Ursa and Ozai insisted they take) to the ship with the help of some soldiers.

Azula and Zuko sit with their parents. Ursa gives them each two potent bottles of poison. Ozai’s voice has a worry that only his family knows how to detect through the facade of boredom as he inquires how their firebending and blades practice has been, as to the state of their weaponry. They try to soothe their parents worries with assurances: their practice has been going well in both bending and blades, Azula has achieved perfection in lightningbending and Zuko has achieved lightning, their blades are sharp and well maintained, they weren’t harmed when the temple blew up—

It slips through Zuko’s lips. He was never the actor like his mother and sister. For their part, his parents do not react overly beyond a flickering of the flame and a long sip of tea.

“Your mission has changed.”

Ozai is smart. Everything he does is to serve his goals the best they can. In canon, the premier of those goals is to gain more power for himself. In this world, that goal is to secure the ideal outcome for his family. (Of course, his second goal is as much power as possible. But it is only considered after his first goal).

Allying themselves with the Avatar, at least in appearances, will secure the best outcome for his children. And he has no doubt that his brother (so weak after the death of his son. And yet, Ozai cannot find it within him to scorn him overly. He knows that were he to be left childless, he would break. It is merely that Ozai would break in an explosion, whereas Iroh’s flame fizzled into embers.) would eagerly help his children betray him. Even if it was just in appearances.

His children are loyal and dutiful. They protest, but only out of a desire to maintain that loyalty. He wishes the Avatar had remained hidden, at least until they were both adults. They are prodigal, yes, but they are just siblings.

“You have our permission to reveal your mother’s ancestry. Use it wisely.”

The children know their lineage for at least five generations on each side. That, of course, is in addition to their knowledge of every Fire Lord that has reigned since the unification of the Fire Nation. They are well aware that their Grandmother Rina (who feeds them chocolate and tells them stories whenever she visits) ‘s father was Avatar Roku. Just as they knew of the friendship between Fire Lord Sozin and Avatar Roku.

It is necessary for the people of their nation to hear pretty lies. It is not their responsibility to worry about the nuance and complexity of life. It is one of their responsibilities as Angi’s heirs in the mortal world. To worry of such things is a burden they should not have to bear. It is necessary for the people to believe the Avatar hated the Fire Lord.

The siblings don’t know everything, of course. They are just children after all. But they understand the nuance, the conflicting beliefs. They were told the truth (and carefully kept from necessary propaganda before then) when they were old enough to look critically at the situation. It was their duty to bring the Fire Nation’s good to the other nations, to liberate their populations, the siblings decided.

The Avatar is just a child, but he seemed able to connect with his past lives. And he had pointedly not hurt them, at least as Avatar Roku.

If nothing else, they have the Dragon Emperor and Blue Spirit on their side.

“Zhao has asked for permission to launch an invasion on the Northern Water Tribe. He is a fool, but he claims he has knowledge that will ensure his victory. Tomorrow, I will send him a letter approving his asinine idea. You will stop him— kill him, if you must— and use that act of perceived treason to ally yourselves with the Avatar.”

Ozai wants power, but he is no fool. The invasion is risky at best. He cannot find it within himself to care for the tens of thousands that would doubtlessly die in it, the Northern Water Tribe had the advantage in multiple ways. It would serve its purpose to get his children at the Avatar’s side.

The tone lightens after his orders and Ozai steps back from his role as Father Lord into just being a father. He teases his son on his interactions with his betrothed. He teases his daughter and asks if she would be visiting the circus soon, taking note of how she had learned to prevent a blush but not the squeak in her voice. They are not infallible, they are children.

As they see their children for the last time in the foreseeable future, the Fire Lord and Lady both think as to how much they will miss them. Ursa blinks back tears as she hugs them both, smiling as they react identically, burying their faces into her chest to hide them and breathing in the scent of fire lily perfume.

Ozai is not usually physically affectionate with his children. He had never received it from his father and was much more competent in other ways. That being said, no one commented on the kiss he pressed to the top of Zuko’s head (still shorter than him by quite a bit. Sometimes he acted so adult, but he was so clearly still a child) before repeating the action with Azula.

“I am so proud of you. Both of you.”

I’m just now realizing Blue Spirit is supposed to be after the whole Roku thing. Oh well.

For appearances’ sake, the siblings and Mai continue to chase the Avatar. Zhao attacks the Avatar while he trains under the Deserter. Princess Azula ensures the forest doesn’t burn while Prince Zuko uses all the bottled up anger at both Zhao himself and Azulon (really, what is with grown men trying to kill 11/12 year olds?) to yell at Zhao for acting so recklessly.

And if, perhaps, he manages to endear himself to others by knocking Zhao’s feet out from under him, all the better.

The Avatar and his friends escape and the siblings celebrate another success as Zhao nurses his bruised ass and ego.

(“Hey, did the Deserter look like that dude in Master Piandao’s painting in his main hall to you?”

“Admiral Jeong Jeong and Master Piandao were married, Zuko. Obviously that was him.”)

Zhao attempts to order their crew away from them, citing his rank as admiral as above prince and princess.

Azula’s sharp tongue reminds Admiral Zhao that Zuko is not only a prince, but the Crown Prince, and thus he is equal in rank to Zhao. As was their uncle a general, retired or not.

Behind the royalty of the ship stands Captain Jee, his eyes locked with Zhao’s. His eyes promise mutiny even if he were to somehow take them. His eyes swear loyalty to the Crown Prince, to his sister, above all else.

Zhao turns to leave.

“Of course, that is not to say we will not join your invasion.” Zuko sounds like his father sometimes, and never more than when his voice holds a hint of smug satisfaction. “Merely, do not presume to think you can order us in any way. We out rank you, and our crew is the best our Nation has to offer.”

Their ship joins, at least in appearance, Zhao’s fleet. That being said, they obey no orders from the Admiral and only allow his “inspections” of the ship and their crew once. For all intents and purposes, they are just there to observe.

And observe they do. The siblings watch the way Zhao treats his subordinates and twin righteous flames burns in their chests. The truth of being raised by a loving father means that Zuko and Azula are both rather sheltered in comparison to their canon selves. They are raised on ideals of honour and the divine responsibility of a monarch, rather than on the truths of war and practicality of rule. It only results in a hotter fire and more questions as to if Sozin’s way was truly the one to follow.

They still have absolute faith in their father. After all, he is the one that raised them, that taught them of honour and the ideals of a monarch. He is the one that sheltered them. He is the one that suggested they befriend the Avatar to keep them safe.

On the ship, only three people know the entire plan. The first two are the siblings, of course. The third is Captain Jee. He is the one that will keep their ship away from the invasion itself so there is no risk of their crew being harmed in the doomed attack. He is the one that will direct the ship to the colonies once the siblings are with the Avatar. Captain Jee has no qualms about technically commuting treason.

Mai knows some of the plan. In that, Mai knows exactly what Zuko and Azula tell her and then what she observes. She sees the way they stick together, now more than ever. Sees the way that Azula trains her non-lethal lightning (because even she, a nonbender, knows it’s far harder to bend lightning that doesn’t kill than that that does). She hears the way they drop the title of Fire Lord when speaking of their royal great grandfather. She catches whispers about Fire Lord Roku. About the Avatar.

Mai, in a way, knows more than the siblings themselves. She knows that they are genuinely sympathetic toward the Avatar in a way that they don’t yet realize. She begins to keep all her knives on her person, along with an easily grab-able bag for travelling in her room. There was no way she’d be letting her best friends turn traitor without her. This is the most exciting thing she’s done in years.

Iroh knows less than he believes. Oh, he gets the dropped title just as well as Mai, but he does not know the intricacies of Zuko and Azula the way Mai does. He sees Azula’s practice and writes it off as her ever-present search for perfection. He catches the tail end of a conversation between siblings and does not stop to consider who exactly “great grandfather” may be referring to. It would be unthinkable for his brother to tell the children of their heritage.

Despite this, Iroh also knows more than most. He knows from conversation exactly what Zhao intends to do in the Northern Water Tribe and it turns his blood to boil.

They reach the Northern Water Tribe. The siblings sneak off the ship in an emergency boat. Mai enters at the last moment and neither send her away.

Iroh has already left the ship, though he is currently in one last meeting with Zhao in an attempt to convince him not to continue with his plan. He will not check back with his niece and nephew, believing them to be safe on the ship.

In the Northern Water Tribe, the three Fire Nation teens remain tucked into the shadows. They, unfortunately, have no idea where the Avatar is and wander through the city. However, they reach the Avatar’s friends before Zhao does.

(“Is he... alive?”

“He’s just meditating.”)

It goes far better than they could have expected. The siblings’ act of releasing Sokka and Katara from Zhao’s bindings results in a part of water tribe siblings being quite willing to hear them out. Princess Yue gives them an odd look but remains quiet.

Zhao shows up. Iroh shows up. Azula and Zuko denounce him (though they cannot bring themselves to denounce their father, even though they know they should). Zhao declares them all traitors, a koi fish in a bag in his hand.

A bolt of lightning hits Zhao straight in the back. Both he and the koi fish fall into the pool of water. He does not emerge.

Azula’s face is carefully blank, even as she watches the water. She cannot stop to consider whether it is her or the water that just killed the admiral, or if he was even dead at all. She could not even see his body in its depths. She used non-lethal strength.

Despite Princess Yue’s backing, the Northern Water Tribe wants to take the siblings prisoner (hostage, everyone knows). After all, everyone knows of the devotion they show to the Fire Lord and vice versa. If nothing else, they would be excellent bargaining pieces in a more formal treaty.

They had not factored this into their plan. Admittedly, they had not factored the Northern Water Tribe into their plan at all.

The three Fire Nation teens are thrown into a prison cell. A rather comfortable prison cell, but still a prison cell. Iroh is taken somewhere else.

Within five hours, they sit on the back of a flying bison, Sokka handing them food he had smuggled out of the meal as Katara was smuggling them out of prison.

(“We tried to get your Uncle too,” the Avatar says in a remorseful tone, “but we couldn’t find him.”

“Uncle will be fine.” Azula declares, her mind set only on the future as she tries not to think about the way Zhao sunk beneath the still surface of the pond.

Zuko nods in agreement and clutches her hand in a comforting way.)

The Gaang now consists of six people:

Aang, a twelve year old Avatar with a mastery in air and a decent proficiency in water. He looks at the Fire Nation teens and sees his friend Kuzon, sees a time from before the war when an Air Nomad could wander freely through the Fire Nation. He attempts to use Fire Nation slang with them but it’s a century old and results in only laughter.

Katara, a master waterbender and healer (a concept that intrigues Azula to no end, although she tries to keep her questions polite). She tends to have a short temper when it comes to matters of the Fire Nation, but even she can be coaxed into trying a few sweets that Zuko has stored in his bag.

Sokka, a hunter and warrior who may or may not be engaged to the NWT princess (Zuko says he is, Azula says he isn’t). Azula laments that her jokes are even worse than Zuko’s, to which Mai agrees. It is that comment that leads Sokka and Zuko to start bonding, having nothing better to do on the bison’s back than exchange bad jokes.

Crown Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, who Sokka would insist is walking Fire Nation propaganda as he goes on at least one rant about Fire Nation culture and technology a day. Who surprisingly helps Katara with the cooking because it was one of the things Fire Lady Ursa carried over from before she was Fire Lady and taught to her children.

Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, who has a sharp tongue and a sharper pair of twin daggers that she seems to enjoy threatening her brother with for any inconvenience, even though they both just laugh at it. (Katara and Sokka have to be assured by them both that they truly love each other and that threatening each other with weapons carried over from the theatre scrolls they used to act out as children).

Lady Mai talks the least, seemingly content just to talk to Zuko and Azula. Aang makes it his mission to get her to warm up to him and spends a good portion of his time trying to talk to her. He succeeds when he brings up air ball, of all things. Mai’s parents had discouraged her from sport, believing it to be unfitting of a young lady just as they had discouraged her interest in knives until Zuko and Azula had ganged up on them. Partially for that reason, Mai enjoyed sports quite a bit, a shock to even Zuko (though Azula knew). After that, she talks mainly to Zuko, Azula, and Aang.

Captain Jee guides his ship to the Fire Nation colonies, unable to confirm that his Prince and Princess were okay. He hadn’t expected the worry he feels now, but he knows he will be awaiting a letter at Yu Dao if they are safe.

Prince Iroh is startled to discover that, while meeting with Master Pakku, the Avatar, his friends, his nephew and niece, and Mai had all disappeared.

As had his ship.

[may-b-a-u-shewritestoo]

The Feeling Is Mutual | | Part 2 | | Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

PART 1

Summary; You’re both profilers, analysing behaviour and making connections. So why is it so hard to read each other?

Includes; injury to main characters, talk of injury, talk of violence, talk of unsub and weapons, talk of being drugged, sickening amount of fluff, mutual masturbation, (MINORS DNI 18+)talk of sex, dirty talk, no dynamic!, and a bit more fluff :)

Word count; 3.6K

Plans had changed and you were not happy about it. The pattern in victimology had shown that the unsub targeted men who were uncomfortable in social settings. Vulnerable type. Derek, being the giant intimidating boulder of a man he was, wouldn’t have attracted the unsub.

So they were sending in Spencer. Everybody including you knew he would fit the description required for this unsub; but the thought of him being touched or hurt or flirted with by somebody that wasn’t you brought a nauseating heavy feeling in your stomach.

“What’s wrong? You’ve had a permanent frown on your face since we started this morning.”

Spencer could feel the mood thickening in the air of the hotel room as he turned to face you.

He was trying to straighten his tie, completely oblivious to the way you stared at him with a mix you could only describe as anger-lust-fear. You didn’t want to even think about how he would react to you telling him the real reason you were upset so you just sighed and shook your head.

“I just hate last minute changes. I thought we were gonna hang back, let Derek do his ‘thing’ and she’d walk out gripping his unnaturally large bicep.” You twiddled with your fingers as you mumbled an excuse to get Spencer off your back.

“What’s wrong with her walking out on my unnaturally small bicep?” he laughed, trying to lighten the mood. You rolled your eyes, forcing them away from staring at his arms and imagining yourself gripping them in a different situation.

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

It was nauseating. The way her fingernails slowly dragged along his forearm, and slipped a little underneath the rolled sleeve. Her stupid voice pitching higher to seem more cute and innocent. He really did fit the part, swallowing thickly and stumbling over his words when she leaned forward a little and exposed her chest a little more.

“Have you ever felt like your body was on fire?” she asked, face now mere inches away from his. Spencer looked over at the security camera that he knew could see them both.

“That’s it. That’s the line. Stand by Y/N, Morgan.” Hotch warned, watching the footage over the nervous shoulders of Garcia.

A young tech student from a local college had been extremely fortunate in escaping the unsub the early hours of this morning. He’d shakily mumbled about her saying about being on fire and then chugging back a pint of straight gin. He asked if she needed help and she’d told him her car was outside if he wouldn’t mind helping her get home.

But as he went to open the driver side door to get in, he noticed her giggling to herself and a gun sitting on her lap. So he ran.

Hotch was worried that his escape would either mess up the trap tonight, or completely change her M.O and she would devolve, leaving you all at another starting point. But luckily for you all, she only had one technique, and was set on using it; so here you all were.

As you stood with your back against the wall, you peeked your head ever so slightly around the bar doors; the small circular window showing the back of her head and Spencer in full view.

“God, she’s making me feel sick. Why is she so touchy? I thought she would’ve dragged him out of here by now.” Whispering with a malicious tone to your voice, Derek chucked quietly at your rage.

“Jealous? Pretty Boy’s getting some attention from a serial killer and you’re jealous?”

“I’m not jealous Morgan. I’m disgusted.” sighing, you rolled your eyes.

“Y/N you know it’s my job. I’m not stupid. Anyone can see you’re completely and utterly-“

“Shut up.”

“Y/N you can change the subject all you like, everybody kno-“

“Derek, they’re gone.”

You had no visual. You couldn’t see her, nor Spencer. Not even an inch of her hair flicking into a different direction, not even a corner of Spencer’s jacket.

“Hotch?” Morgan spoke with a warning inflection into his smart watch.

Scanning the footage for where they could’ve possibly gone, Hotch hurriedly put on his Kevlar and gun before jumping out to head round the back of the bar.

“Guys, I have a visual on Reid. He’s out cold up on the V.I.P balcony. I can’t seem to find-”

Peeking again through the bar window, you didn’t have time to register what Penelope was saying nor what was happening before you felt a dull pain throb through your face. Stumbling backwards and trying to keep your balance, you noticed a warm and fuzzy feeling buzzing across your body before everything went black.

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

“Can you just shut up and pass me a spoon? I’m not kidding anymore.”

“Get it yourself. You don’t wanna listen to me, why should I listen to you?”

“You’re an asshole Derek. Just so you know. I’ve eaten Jello with a straw before, and I’ll do it again.”

“Boys, will you shut up, her eyes just moved.”

Muffled voices stirred you to consciousness as you struggled to open your eyes. Immediately sending a sharp pain to your head, the lights felt like lasers as you tried to make sense of where you were.

“Jesus H Christ, why are the lights so damn bright?”

“There she is. Good morning pretty girl.” The sweet sounds of Miss Garcia swam through your ears, and her perfume overwhelmed your senses as she leant down to kiss your cheek. “I bought you a cupcake, and I’ve made sure these two don’t touch it.”

Squinting at the two men sitting on the empty hospital bed next to yours, you laughed at the two of them. They were acting like children.

Derek had a plastic spoon in his hand, holding and waving it as far away from Spencer as he possibly could. Spencer sat cross legged, arms folded but with a sealed cup of orange jello in one hand; tutting at Derek with disappointment.

“Would anybody like to update and inform me on why on earth Penelope is babysitting us in a hospital ward?” you asked, attempting to sit up a little bit, and groaning out at how much your body ached.

Spencer almost stood up when you grimaced in pain, but stayed seated as not to look too bothered.

“We caught the unsub,” Derek began to explain, Penelope giggling when you did a silent ‘yay’ and mini jazz hands, “but she roofied Reid, which was new and discovered his badge in his jacket.” He looked over at Reid with a sarcastic look, to which he was met with shrugged shoulders and Spencer digging into his jello.

“As she came back down the stairs to make her escape, she noticed you and Derek arguing or whatever that was outside the bar doors, and snuck into the crowd to watch you. When you tried to find her, I just saw her coming towards the doors but she moved hella fast.” Penelope explained, sipping from a bright pink tumbler.

“She kicked the door that you were stood behind, and then basically jumped you until you were unconscious, but didn’t quite realise I was there. So I got her. Pretty Boy here woke up a few hours ago just hungry.”

Spencer looked up at Derek and smiled, letting everyone know he was too invested in the jello to retaliate to his sarcasm. He glimpsed over at you and smiled in a different way, which Penelope caught on to immediately.

“Anyway! The doctor said you have a lot of bruised ribs but other than that you are good to go home today! Did you want me to stay over at yours? I can bring more cupcakes?” She asked sweetly, passing you the sprinkle covered cupcake and unwrapping it for you.

She was the equivalent of a big sister and a mom to you; always looking out for you, making sure you’d eaten but also joining in on gossip and hosting alcoholic themed sleepovers. She knew about yours and Spencer’s hookups, after the one time you were accidentally too loud in the hotel room next to hers.

You’d been sat on a swivel chair in her office, begging and pleading and bribing with sweet treats and baked goods for her not to tell a soul and as far as you were aware, she stuck to her promise. With a dramatic mime of locking her lips shut, she had grabbed a croissant from your hands and turned back to her computer.

“I could - sorry - I could stay over if you’d prefer Y/N? I know we’ve got a few episodes of Black Mirror to catch up on?” Spencer jumped at the chance to interrupt, correcting himself as his volume came out louder than planned.

Nodding quickly with a huge beaming smile and a mouth full of cupcake, you could feel yourself internally healing already.

“I’d like that. If that’s okay Pen? I’ve tried to explain to him that you can’t ‘catch up’ on Black Mirror but he won’t have it.” You carried on enjoying the sugary treat, as Spencer carried on eating his; ignoring the blatant smirks being swapped between Derek and Penelope.

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

As far as you were concerned the past weekend had gone way too quickly. Coming home from hospital on Thursday evening, Spencer had stayed over and still hadn’t left.

It was just about Sunday morning, and you’d both passed out after playing cards until 3am. He’d kept you so busy and your brain occupied you’d barely had time to think about your body aching and healing. He made you laugh so hard at times you were tempted to call the emergency room back to see if they could check you in again.

You guys hadn’t kissed or barely touched except to cuddle on the couch; even then Spencer was hesitant because he was convinced he’d do more damage. But it wasn’t the aches and pains that was getting to you. It was the way you felt starved of touch and affection.

Usually you both would be particularly in the mood, would call one another up and you’d both satiate each other’s needs before maybe having a cuddle and leaving.

In all fairness, the last time you felt him was only yesterday morning when he came to give you some tea in bed. He’d sat beside you - very gently - drinking his own sugar and coffee; hand holding onto your thigh and stroking lightly. It was all too sweet. Sweeter than the concoction he made to drink every morning.

But now you’d woken up only a few hours after going to sleep, the room still a shade of blue and gray. Sunrise was on its way, but night was still present, no birdsong could be heard; but the soft hums of Spencer Reid sleeping filled the air.

You knew that Hotch had given the both of you time off, you had nowhere to be for 2 more days. You wanted oh so desperately to shake him awake, jump his bones and go several rounds until you were due in, but not only could your body not physically take it; your heart couldn’t either.

Something felt different. Unrecognised, the feeling of wanting something else flooded your thoughts. Did you want to be fucked? Did you want to lay in Spencer’s arms for the entire day and be held? Or did you want both?

The way he’d smiled over at you when you woke up in hospital made you feel like you’d driven over a speed bump, your tummy swirling around and doing backflips. How he’d stayed with you after, how he’d looked after you and listened to you this whole time.

Unbeknownst to you however, while you were deep in thought about whatever this weird feeling was; Spencer had blinked his eyes open, rested his head in one of his hands and was watching you.

“What’re you thinking about?”

You jumped, grimacing as you stretched out a rib that you definitely shouldn’t have stretched out. “I’m currently thinking about how much that hurt, how much I hate you and how much I’m going to regret being awake later.”

Spencer laughed, a slight husk from tiredness layered into it. He brought his opposite hand up and stroked up and down your spine, noticing how goosebumps formed underneath his fingertips.

“You cold?”

“No.”

“Come here.”

Slowly laying back down, you groaned out in a mixture of uncomfortableness and relief as you got back into the warm spot next to Reid. Looking over at him made you feel giddy, the way you would feel getting ready for a date or a big event. You were nervous. But why?

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours Y/N?” he asked sweetly, fingers coming up to stroke your cheek. He quickly withdrew them and cleared his throat, laying back down completely parallel beside you.

“Spencer, are you tired right now?”

“No. Are you?” He shuffled onto his side again.

“No. Quite the opposite.” with slight struggle, you mirrored his position, laying on your side and looking into his eyes with a lazy smile.

“Y/N, I can’t, you’re struggling to even lay down let alone-“

“No Spencer, I’m not hinting at sex. Although the millisecond I can, I will.” you laughed out, edging slightly closer to him. His breath hitched, and he shuffled awkwardly.

“What do you want?”

“I want to feel good Spence,”

“I thought you just said-“

“I want to feel good. So, I’m going to make myself feel good.” Your voice dropped a little, hoping that Spencer would catch on to what you were implying. Sometimes he could catch your drift, other times you would have to spell it out for him. Luckily for you, it was the former.

He nodded, waiting for you to make the next move. Watching you with intent, he began taking in each tiny detail of you.

The way you kept your eyes on his but let your hand trail down your body. The sigh of relief and arousal as you shuffled a little closer to him again, before laying on your back slowly and getting ready and comfortable. You let out a deep exhale while trailing your other hand over your chest, squeezing ever so lightly.

“Fuck Y/N. You’re really gonna do it? What if you hurt, the doctor recommended not strain-“

“Spencer, stop. I know my limits. I also know that if I don’t make myself cum soon I might actually spontaneously combust.”

He chuckled at your silliness, before remembering something. “There’s actually been less than 150 cases of spontaneous combustion recorded in almost 2000 years, so I doubt that your heightened state of arousal could cause you-“

“Spencer Reid, if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now I will make sure I’m the 150th case.”

He giggled and leant down to your lips, holding your face with one hand and holding himself up with the other arm. Pressing gently against your lips as if you were made of glass, he smiled against you; letting out a small moan as you reached up and pulled him closer into the kiss.

Your fingers circling over your clit through your panties caused you to wind your hips up against your hand gently, remembering not to overdo it. Moaning out quietly as you applied more pressure, Spencer pulled back to watch you.

“You look so beautiful Y/N.” He whispered, eyes darting between your face concentrated with pleasure and your hands roaming around your body.

He could feel himself growing and stiffening underneath his pyjama pants when you whimpered in response, and he bucked instinctively as the material grew tighter.

“Do you wanna touch yourself too Spence?” you mumbled out, movements staying the same speed but your head turning to watch him,“Touch yourself with me, feel what I’m feeling.”

“Yes, please.” Spencer laid down beside you again, his arm touching yours. Gripping himself through his pants he hissed out at the sudden contact.

Leaning your head against his shoulder, you watched to see what his next move would be; waiting to mirror him. He caught on to you copying his movements as he slipped his hands underneath his pants, a mix of a chuckle and a moan falling from his lips as you did the same.

“God this is so sexy..” Spencer moaned out louder this time, as he grasped his cock fully in his palm. Mimicking his actions, you also became a little louder; the feeling of skin touching skin becoming more and more intense.

“Tell me something Spence.” you spoke breathily, fingers applying more pressure to your clit and switching to dip inside yourself.

Curling his wrist with every sharp tug and squeezing the head of his cock every time he reached the top, all he could do was try to take deep breaths where he held them for so long.

“I thought about you. When she flirted with me.”

You wanted to pause, wondering why he brought up an unsub in the middle of such an intimate moment. But his next words only brought you closer to your brink.

“When I looked over her shoulder and saw you watching, saw the anger in your eyes. You looked so fucking mad baby. I couldn’t figure out why, but I liked it. When she touched me, I wished it was your hands. I thought about you the whole time, fuck.” Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, trying to not look at you in order to keep calm and patient with his orgasm.

“Yeah? Wished it was me leaning over you like that?” You could barely string a sentence together with how good you felt, your thighs clenching together around your wrist, your hips bucking up as much as your body allowed them to.

“Mhmm. Thought about taking you home, bending you over my couch with your uniform still on.”

“Fuck Spence. She made me so jealous, I wanted to go in there and rip her off of you. Would’ve made you mine right there at the bar.”

He hissed and groaned out, speeding up even more, matching the pace you had set yourself; aiming to finish with you.

“Fuck. I’m all yours Y/N, this cock is all fucking yours.” He was so close, throbbing and thrusting into his fist, pulling his head back so he could watch your face.

Hearing him say he was yours dragged you to the edge of your orgasm, thighs beginning to shake a little. Your wrist was growing tired but you refused to stop, too caught up in the gradually increasing pleasure.

“I’m so close honey, please,” you pulled your gaze away from where he stroked himself to meet his eyes, wanting to watch his face as he toppled over the edge too, “please tell me I can come, I wanna come for you.”

You grew needy, ignoring the ache in your torso as you writhed against your fingers, your head falling back as you felt the waves coming. Spencer watched as you slowly began to fall and crash into it.

Tugging at himself with the same speed as you, he quickly moved onto his side a little to watch you better. Pressing his lips to your neck, he bit down gently before whispering the words you needed.

“Let it go for me Y/N, you can come. Come for me,” As you slipped under the waves and felt like you were drowning in the numb yet intense pulsation, Spencer coaxed you through it as he too got carried away by his own throbbing, “that’s it baby, fuck I’m coming, oh my go-, ah fuck it feels so good.”

Spencer became quickly overwhelmed by his orgasm, rolling onto his back again as he carried on spilling onto his stomach. Continuing to slowly rub yourself, you came down from your crescendo and watched as he worked himself through his.

“Fuck Spencer, there’s so much.” Leaving little kisses along his shoulder, you giggled sweetly as he tensed with the aftershocks and tried to catch his breath. He grinned with a post-orgasm smile and turned his head to nestle against the top of yours.

“Are you okay?” Spencer murmured into your hair, leaving a little kiss on the crown of your head. Simply nodding against his shoulder, you attempted to shuffle closer but forgot how tense your body had been in its peak.

“Fuck. Can you help me?” Giggling and wincing at the same time as an attempt to sit up. Spencer laughed at you sweetly, sitting himself up quickly and snaking an arm underneath your back.

Pulling you up smoothly, he left a light kiss against your temple before slipping his other arm underneath your legs and hoisting you up.

“Wait, where are we going?” You whined out, wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders. He walked the two of you into the en-suite and set you down gently on the counter.

“I am going to get us cleaned up,” he smiled at you before getting a washcloth ready, “and then we’re going to talk about us.”

He began to wipe the washcloth across his chest and his stomach, looking up curiously when you asked, “Us?”

“Wait. What you said about- when you said that thing about making me yours? Did I completely misread that? Because I feel- I thought it was obvious that I felt-“ He stumbled, self consciousness creeping in slowly as he realised he may have taken it too far.

But you smiled softly, grabbing the cloth from his hands and pulling him to rest between your legs. At least he’d cleared the air for you. You didn’t feel remotely nervous anymore.

Cupping his face in your hands and stroking along his jaw with each thumb, you pulled him in for a delicate kiss. Grinning against his lips, he returned the motion and kissed you once more.

“The feeling is mutual, Spencer.”

[fluffy-lee-boa]

Teaching Me How To Move On

(A SamBucky tickle fic :3)

@tickleebug requested some Sam and Bucky, so I went a little wild with it and made a short story to show how Bucky is adapting to his new life, and his new partner. Spoilers for Endgame/TFATWS btw!

“Buhucky! Cut it out!” Steve snorted, swatting at the younger’s arm as he lightly dug into his sides.

Before he’d taken the serum, it had been a well-known fact that Steve Rogers was probably one of the most ticklish guys in Brooklyn. Sure, he hated to admit it in public, and Bucky respected that, but when he and Bucky were hanging out at home? All bets were off.

So James Buchanan Barnes took every opportunity like this to tease the other about his sensitivity, sitting beside him and carefully scratching at all the spots he knew would make the other squeal. He never took it overboard, considering Steve’s fragile state, but he did tire the other out enough that he would be sure the smaller wouldn’t get revenge.

“Come on Stevie, there’s no way you’re gonna make the army if you can’t handle a little tickling,” he smirked at the other.

Steve gave an snort, slapping a hand to his face before shaking his head rapidly, “This is just tohorture!!”

“Mhm. And?” Bucky snickered as he trailed his hands up to Steve’s stomach, relishing in the deeper laughter that it gave him.

This certain brand of “torture” continued for a few minutes, interspersed with cruel teases and barely-masked flirting that the ever-oblivious Rogers seemed to let fly over his head. Though it was easy to tell Steve wasn’t trying very hard to escape the other’s grasp, especially considering how lightly Buck was holding him down in fear of injury. He could stop any time he wanted, really.

Bucky finally let up once the wheezing started, almost immediately leaving the room only to reappear with a cup of water. He couldn’t help the smug grin on his face as the other struggled to hide his deep blush. The moment was perfect.

Too perfect.

He would wait another day to tell him about his draft card. He didn’t want to ruin what they had just yet.

~

Years.

Years had gone by since that day- decades, even. He had gone for most of that time without Steve, without those affectionate touches and softness, and without love. He’d gone for even longer now that Steve was....

No, he didn’t like to think about the past few months. About how the very man he’d grown up with, who’d told him he’d be with him to the end of the line, got off early. -He couldn’t be angry with him, though. It was his life, after all. His choice. Steve would probably be better off with Peggy, anyways.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell, and that he was absolutely starved for affection with no one in the world to fix it for him.

Well... almost no one.

Admittedly, he’d grown closer to Sam in the time since the new Cap was gifted the shield. Despite his reservations, and the rocky start to their partnership, they’d come to an understanding. Especially after all they’d been through in their mission to stop Karli, and then Walker thereafter.

And there was the boat, of course. Bucky hadn’t even known Sam had a boat before this week- never even been near one besides during war times. Yet he found himself spending hours and even days of his time on helping him fix it. Then the days after that teaching the new Captain to toss the shield.

Was this what having a friend was like?

He couldn’t tell. I mean, after Steve, nothing was going to feel just right. ...Or so he thought.

See, even if Bucky had tried to deny it, Sam felt safe. He felt like Steve did. They shared that same big heart Bucky had always admired, and honestly, the shield couldn’t have found a better wielder. But on the other hand, Sam was also more honest, and more direct. That was something he needed after all those years of manipulation and self-pity. Not exactly tough love, but the truth. A kinder, softer truth.

“Hey! Buck!” Sam had called from the other side of the open field, between a few lone trees that were wrapped in foam.

Bucky looked up, torn from his deep thoughts about friendship and Captains and shields. He didn’t give away any of it through his glance, much better at hiding behind an emotionless mask these days.

“Are you gonna throw it back or what? -The shield, I mean.” the figure laughed.

James rolled his eyes and walked over, trying to play it off, “Your stance is off. You’re gonna get someone killed if you don’t have enough balance.”

“Balance my ass,” Sam scoffed jokingly as he took the shield back from the other, looking him over suspiciously, “...You’re just deflecting again. You’ve been spacing out like crazy today... did something happen?”

Ah, there was that signature therapist-like concern that Wilson managed to worm into every conversation. It made Bucky’s heart beat faster and his stomach flip and he hated it. No one had been this worried about him since he came back from the icy abyss of HYDRA’s control. No one else had checked up on him so consistently for no other gain than his continued wellbeing.

“I’m fine.” He shot back despite himself, half of a glare on his face as he turned away to go back to his spot.

Sam rolled his eyes at the other’s dramatics, at this point being readily used to the cold demeanor Bucky used to push aside his own feelings. But he wasn’t ready to let it slide this time around. So he stepped towards him after setting aside the vibranium shield, reaching out to stop him from walking away again.

Quite a few things happened after that, one after the other.

For one, Sam had underestimated how quickly Bucky could power-walk away from him, and ended up grazing his side with a small grabbing motion rather than taking him by the wrist.

From there, Bucky had faltered in his pace with a quick giggle, before looking back at the other with a somewhat horrified expression. Oh no.

It was painfully obvious to Sam now, by Buck’s initial reaction and the way he seemed just about ready to jump out of his skin.

“There is no way in hell....”

“Sam, you don’t want to do this-”

“You’re ticklish?!”

Bucky cringed, almost immediately blushing just as Steve had whenever he’d done the same to him back in Brooklyn. Karma may have been delayed for almost a century, but it sure did come back to bite him. Figures as much, right?

Bucky had started walking backwards away from the now-very-menacing falcon, though with the woods around them, his ankle caught on a rock and sent him flying back onto his butt. Figures even more.

Before he could up and scramble away, probably going to rush to Sarah and beg for protection, Sam had pounced. The super soldier found himself being straddled, which didn’t help his confusing feelings from before at all. He hands ended up under Sam’s knees, and even if he knew he could probably escape, he was concerned he’d end up hurting the other if he lost control of his own strength.

“Sam! Get off!” He said in a shockingly squeaky shout, obviously flustered.

“Nu-uh. I need to see this for myself.” Sam snickered, making the other look away as his blush deepened.

“You su-AHAHUCK-“

Before Bucky could articulate what would have totally been a coherent and witty response, Sam had taken the initiative and dug straight into the dip of his sides. There was an explosion of sunny and bubbly laughter that didn’t suit the awkward Soldier at all, making Sam beam down at the other.

Bucky internally cursed as he looked up and caught glimpse of the smile. He was too perfect- it was unfair!

Sam chuckled as he lightened up, tracing circles around his hips and making Bucky jerk back and forth with a few left over giggles, “Wowwww... It’s worse than I thought.”

“Shut the hell uhuhup...” Bucky muttered in embarrassment, making Wilson roll his eyes.

Sam knew he could definitely find a worse spot, and ignoring Bucky’s continued insults and thinly-veiled threats, he scanned the other’s upper body as thought to himself.

His metal arm probably couldn’t feel anything, right? But what about the spot just where the two met...?

Bucky noticed where his partner’s gaze had fallen, suddenly looking alarmed as he turned to begging, “Hey, wait, hold on, that’s a bad idea, Wilson. -Agh- Please? Is that what you want? Fine! I’m saying please-“

Sam just shook his head with that stupid, handsome smirk on his face, “Saying please isn’t gonna save you this time around. Tell me what’s wrong.... and I won’t absolutely wreck you. And trust me, I have an older sister. I know exactly how to do it.”

Bucky went quite besides his quick breathes and squirmy giggles, looking off to the side as he tried to consider his options despite the continued teasing of his sides and hips. But no- he couldn’t say what was really on his mind. Stubborn is as stubborn does.

“Do your worst.”

There was only a moment of reprieve as Wilson took in the other’s bratty reply, before he wiggled his fingers into that horrible dip between Buck’s metal arm and his ribs, right in the hollow. His other hand went to the rest of his rib cage just as quickly, alternating between both sides and dipping in between the spaces for added torture.

Bucky was pretty much lost in a handful of seconds.

He cackled, kicking his legs and pulling at his arms with only a shred of resistance from the last part of him that was conscious, which was still bent on making sure he didn’t hurt Sam.

But, that part of him could only hold out for so long, and when Sam found an extra sensitive spot between his ribs, Bucky ended up arching so suddenly that Sam was sent a good five feet away by his super strength.

Whoops.

There was a long pause as the air around them stilled once more, Sam laying feet away and laughing hysterically at his friend’s reaction while Bucky himself calmed himself down to a frenzy of frantic giggling.

After he was able to regain control of himself, he sat up to look over at Sam, his arms wrapped around his own torso protectively so the falcon could no longer access his weak spot. His voice was hoarse as he asked sheepishly, “...Are you ok?”

Sam’s own laughter died down, and he waved his hand dismissively, “Fine, fine. I shoulda expected it. You’re a hyper-ticklish super soldier. I’m just lucky you didn’t break my arm.“

Bucky didn’t find much humor in that joke, but he got up and made his way over to the other anyway. He held out his hand to help him stand beside him, and Wilson smiled softly at the other’s still reddened face, “Maybe we should do that more often. You’re cute when you’re blushing like that.”

And he walked away.

Bucky, for better or worse, didn’t have the same luxury that his old partner did of obliviousness to such direct declarations of affection, so he simply stood in shock as he was left in the small field of grass.

...Maybe, just maybe, his new life wasn’t as empty and lonely as he’d previously thought. Maybe Sam... could be what he really needed, as a partner, and as a friend.

Or.... maybe something more.

Lots of maybes today. But then again, when is anything ever certain?

[otptings]

Moonlight

♤Idol; Johnny Suh ♤Genre; Mafia!Johnny, Angst

♤Word Count; 2.6k+ ♤Warnings; assault, injury, panic attacks, implied sexual assault/rape ♤Synopsis; Doesn’t the moonlight look beautiful tonight?

Part 1 , Part 3

Upon waking you realize you were alone.

Glancing around you quickly realized that you weren’t home, or in a hospital. You were in a regular house, a regular room at that. Moving your arms around you realized that the ache had significantly subsided since the first time you woke. Slowly you sat up, lifting your arms up and seeing the scraps all along your arms, now blooming in purple and yellow. Healing bruises.

Footsteps could be heard walking along the hall, but none of them stopped at your door, just walked past and disappeared the further they got away.

Looking down you realized that you weren’t in your work clothes, you were in a grey shirt, way too big to be your own. Where were you? Why weren’t you at home?

What happened?

Tears started to well in your eyes, as you started to remember bits and pieces of the night. The moon light shining brightly over everything, the reflection in your phone mirror, being pressed against the brick wall.

Silver knife glinting in the star light, stained with blood after he cut you.

You thought that you had died.

Ignoring the pain you pulled your knees toward your chest, holding them tightly as your memories started to piece themselves back together. You were attacked. You were chosen to be attacked. Someone specifically had chased after you, and learned your schedule to find you.

Had they gotten anyone else? Had they gotten the rest of your family? Where was your family?

It seemed the harsher your breaths came, the footsteps started to realize something was wrong. Panic started to flood your body, causing you to whimper as the memories of the attack raced through your mind. You covered your ears as his voice seemed to flood your head, the words and curses he screamed at you.

The door opened but you were too far gone to realize it, so deep into your own head that you hadn’t realized someone had sat down beside you. Grabbing your arm, causing you to flinch away from them as the fat teardrops rolled down your cheeks.

“Baby.” You lifted your head up, being met with the concerned eyes of Johnny. Relief started to inch in beside the panic at the sight of your boyfriend sitting before you.

Thank god you sent your location to him.

“Love, relax for me. You’re going to be sick if you keep panicking.” Johnny pulled you towards him, and you willingly went along it, climbing onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Love, can you follow my breaths?” You slowly nodded your head before placing your head on his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat thudding beside your ear. Your shaking started to reside, as your sobs quieted, Johnny rubbing your back soothingly and whispering sweet nothings to you. As your sobs turned to weak whimpers Johnny tilted your head up, cupping both of your cheeks while he wiped away your tears.

“You gotta do a check up? Are you up for it? It’s only Doyoung, but if you aren’t feeling good he can do it later.”  If you pushed it back, who knows what other facts about your injuries you could be missing.

“I’m okay. I promise.” Johnny sighed, placing a kiss on your forehead before turning his head and gesturing for someone to come further into the room.  Looking up you realized that Doyoung was standing in the doorway, witnessing the moment between you and Johnny if his awkward facial expression was anything to go by.

However, upon seeing another one of your Neos safe and out of harm's way tears pricked at your eyes again.

“Doyoung.” You reached your arms out to him, and for once he willingly gave you a hug, placing a kiss on your cheek. Doyoung would rather lose an arm and leg than do skinship, but I guess this occasion calls for an exception.

“Grateful you're okay short stack.” Doyoung murmured into your hair, before doing his brief check up.

“Most of her cuts were superficial, besides the one on her stomach. Keep cleaning them, and changing the dressing twice every day. She’ll also have a wicked headache because of her concussion, and her bruises might be a little tender. But she’s healthy, and everything will heal properly within 2-3 weeks.”

Doyoung turned to you, a smile on his face for the first time since he entered the room. “You’ll be fine short stack, but you need to be careful because you’re still injured pretty badly.”

“I’ll tell the boys to give you a few hours, they missed you a lot short stack. Especially the Dreamies. Take it easy, short stack and we’re all really glad you’re back.” Doyoung nodded his head before turning on his heels, and closing the door quietly behind him to mark his exit.

Turning towards Johnny you placed your hands on your lap, ignoring the slight pulsating in the back of your head. “Where am I? I know this isn’t your apartment.”

“This is a spare room at base. I couldn’t take you back to my house. We had to find out if the guy was affiliated or not.” Johnny loosely gestured to the room, and didn’t specify exactly who but you knew.

He wanted to know if the guy who attacked you was gang affiliated.

“I know he was gang affiliated.” Johnny turned to you, slightly surprised to hear. “He mentioned you a few times, not by name. He also had a tattoo on his bicep that I saw when his shirt sleeve flew up.” Johnny sighed before grabbing both of your hands, placing a kiss on your knuckles that would’ve been seen as sweet if you were anywhere else.

“Smart girl,” You knew that wasn’t the end of his sentence, you could tell that he was holding himself back.

“Johnny, what aren’t you telling me? I can take it.”

“I have to send you away. You’ll be going back to Chicago with the Dreamies.” You shook your head viciously, pulling your hands away from Johnny and clasping them together across your chest.

He was going to send you away? Would you be safe in Chicago? Why were you being sent away?

“You can’t send me away. Why would you do that?” For the umpteenth time in the 30 minutes since you’ve been awake tears are prickling at your eyes.

“I am more useful to the team here than I am in Chicago. Who would you turn to when the rest of the boys can’t figure out the codes? Hell, I even helped Doyoung stitch you guys up after missions. There is no reason for you to send me away.” Johnny reached out for you but you kept your hand away as it’d burn you to make contact with him.  “This isn’t the first time I’ve been attacked. It won’t be the last time either. I can help you so much better when I’m actually here with you.”

“This isn’t who we usually deal with. It’s Seventeen.” You froze after hearing the name.

Seventeen was a ruthless gang. They always hung around your middle and high school growing up, most of them being older than you and always having the excuse of the youngest members to stay around. Every last one of them were dicks, bullying everyone who they deemed to be less than them.

Except for Chan. Chan was actually sweet to you, being in the same grade as you due to his own awful attendance. Despite all of his callous members he seemed to actually have a soul, and always cared about the people around him. He was only a few years older than you, but made sure to always protect you from the rest of the members. He was like your older brother, and you were thankful for him being there.

That is until you turned 17, and he allowed the boys to take you.

He tried to convince you to join him, offering to have you be his right hand. After you refused he stopped protecting you, giving the boys active permission to do whatever they wanted with you. You were kept there to be Seventeen’s play thing, for them to ‘toy’ with until another group raided the warehouse they were hiding you in.

That’s how you met the Neos. They saved your life. No one knows how long Chan would’ve kept you hidden there if Seventeen wouldn’t have pissed off the Neos.

They’re back.

It’s been years since then. After the Neos raided them Seventeen went off of the grid, supposedly leaving the city to relocate.

You never healed from it. How could you heal from your bestfriend kidnapping you, allowing you to be played with and injured at the hands of his other group mates. You spent years constantly looking over your shoulder, waking up from the nightmares that steadily plagued you night after night. Johnny stood by your side through it all, keeping a Neo by your side at all times so that you weren’t truly alone. All that progress was gone.

Was Dino after you exclusively? Had he never recovered from you escaping? Was he going to go after the rest of the Neos?

Would he attack the rest of your family?

“Breath princess. Breath.” Your thoughts continued to swirl around in your mind, panic intermingling with the questions you had.

If Dino was willing to have someone attack you in public, what would happen if you weren’t protected again? You got lucky this first attack, but what happened if luck wasn’t on your side next time? What if he kidnapped you again?

He’d kill you.

“Baby, look at me. Follow my breathing.” Johnny pulled you back onto his lap, holding you tightly against his chest. You tried to listen to his sweet words of reassurance, but the overwhelming sense of dread just continued to hover. If they were back what would happen to the rest of the Neos? To Johnny?

They must think of you as a liability, forcing them to risk their lives uselessly. They saved you twice, would they be willinging to save me again? You’re a loose end to Seventeen, and they won’t stop until you’re dead.

“Who?” You struggled to get your words out, but you needed to know. Needed to know who had attacked you, and led the rest of the boys to Seventeen.

“Mingyu, he’s dead. The Neos dealt with him already.”  Now they were working with one less person. That’s why Johnny was willing to lose the Dreamies just to protect you.

The fact that Seventeen sent Mingyu, one of their most feared assassins after you, definitely meant that they wanted you dead.

“You’re not sending all of the Dreamies. Right? You can’t lose all seven of them.” Johnny shook his head.

“Donghyuck and Mark will stay here. With 127. I’m not that reckless, I know what I’m doing.” You sighed out of relief hearing Johnny had planned his attack through. He wasn’t being cocky, actually being logical about the situation.

You could relax a little, but you knew now that you and the Dreamies really had to leave the city. You had to be safe, and Johnny wouldn’t fight you on this matter.

“When do I have to leave?”

“Next Friday. Until then you’re going to stay here. Your clothes are already here, along with your new phone. We had to make sure you’re not being tracked.“ You sighed, before nodding your head solemnly looking down at your hands. There was no use fighting Johnny on a matter like this, he would do anything to keep you safe.

“Can I see the Dreamies? Please?” Muttering a quiet yeah, Johnny left the room. You rubbed your eyes while everything seemed to be catching up to you. You didn’t even know how long you were out, and you were now getting sent away. To protect you. To keep you safe.

Despite the anxious feeling that seemed to be growing again you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips when you heard the stampede of footsteps coming down the hall. As the door burst open the first person you saw was Jisung, a blush spreading over his cheeks as his dark purple hair flew every which way.

“SHORT STACK!” You may have seen Jisung first, but Chenle was always going to let his presence known with the loud screech that he let out. All of the boys started to pile into the room, fixing themselves on the edges of your bed, except for Mark and Jeno. They stood beside your bed, not wanting to accidentally hurt you or injure you. Jaemin was on the opposite end of the spectrum, placing his head on your lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. A laugh bubbled out of you before you could help it, content to be back with your Dreamies.

“Chenle why are you so loud?” Jisung flinched, holding his ears as Chenle excitedly tried to tell you something that happened while you were out.

“Haechan I swear to god if you push me off the bed I will drown you in the sink.” Renjun muttered angrily while holding on tightly to Haechan’s arm in a last ditch effort to not fall off.

“Jaemin, why are you the only one cuddling her?” Jeno asked, laughing under his breath at Jaemin who just pouted and snuggled further against you.

“I missed you. I’m not letting her go.” Mark smacked Renjun and Haechan to stop them from fighting, causing Renjun to give a dirty look as Haechan stuck his tongue out at him.

“Stop it.” The room went silent at Mark, got serious for once, shocking everyone including you.

“She just woke up guys, give her a little bit of a rest.” The rest of the Dreamies muttered apologies, before sitting on their respective corners on the bed.

“It’s okay Mark. I’m fine.” Mark looked at you hesitantly as you held your arms out to him, nervous to hurt you. “Please? I want a hug?” Mark reluctantly walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you gently as if you were fragile and were going to break at any moment. Pulling away Mark gave me a onceover before visibly tensing up again.

“Has he, like, already told you dude?” Now it's Jeno's turn to smack the back of Mark’s head while Haechan whispers quietly about Canada. You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, the mood now sobered up as you mentioned his plans.

“We’re going to his old family home at least? That’d be fun to explore.” Renjun chimed in, trying to bring it back into a positive light.

“Yea it’s like a week long vacation. We get to leave the boring ass city at least.” Jisung agreed, eyes bright at the thought of leaving the city for the first time.

“As fun as that sounds, remember we have to stay in the house. No sight seeing, this is still a mission.” Jeno spoke up, Jisung looked down ashamed to have thought so eagerly about this trip that was only there to keep you safe. Chenle rubbed his back soothingly while Jaemin pulled you back into your chest, gingerly rubbing up and down your arms to not hit your bruises. Mark and Renjun shared a look over their heads, a silent agreement that you knew nothing about.

“It’ll be okay. We’ll still have each other, Mark and Haechan will be protecting all of us here.” You leaned further into Jaemin’s chest, praying that he was right.

Everything will be okay, as long as we have eachother.

[vostokovasmelina]

— 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟑𝐂. (𝐬.𝐰.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢  |  𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢 | 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

characters: fem!reader; sam wilson; archibald the tabby cat; sarah wilson

word count: 3.1k+

warning: mentions and descriptions of alcohol, death, grief, trauma, therapy, depression – i call this post-snap realism

series summary: after the blip, sam wilson gets home to an unpleasant surprise - his key doesn’t fit the lock anymore and his apartment is now inhabited by a stranger and a grumpy feline. however, the unusual encounter is only the beginning of their post-blip lives and the reader soon learns that what life takes away, it can give back in the most particular ways.

a/n: the ending is a dark unedited mess, so proceed with caution

Taking a cautious sip of your hot beverage, you watched this absolute gatecrasher of a man trying to make up his mind about whatever he was so confused about – Sam kept looking all around your apartment as if searching for something he had left there, his slightly lost and disoriented expression sending a sudden wave of guilt rushing over you. Now that you thought about it, it really must have sucked absolute cheese for him to come home hoping he could finally have that huge cup of strong black coffee he had been anticipating ever since having defeated that enormous purple bastard from Outer Space, only to find that his coffee machine was long gone and now this random lady with a philodendron problem and a judgmental cat were inhabiting the place with absolutely no room left for him whatsoever. It did sound tragic when you put it that way.

However, it really wasn’t your fault that you had needed to find a brand new residence approximately five years before. He really should have checked in with someone to make sure he still had somewhere to go home to. You were quite clearly the real victim here. And Lord only knew how poor Archie was going to process all the excitement of the day.

For a few seconds, you contemplated whether or not to put your thoughts into words, and eventually decided against it for the time being. The man had just helped save the world a few days before, after all, and out of what? Good conscience? Personally not for you, but you could appreciate it in others. And it would have been a real shame to die right when your fan-favourite succulents and killer new posting schedule had been attracting more Instagram followers than ever before. Thanks to the savior complex flaming inside of the gentleman standing before you though, the regular civilian had luckily escaped such terrible hardships. And special thanks to approximately a thousand and one other superheroes. Oh, and to an African country filled with similarly public-spirited people.

For a few awkwardly long seconds neither of you said a word. Sam kept looking around and you watched him look around, slowly lowering your mug onto the table and tilting your head slightly to the left. Weird how Sarah had never mentioned the brother believed to be dead for the last five years was this handsome. It is unfair, really. Some people are just naturally gorgeous no matter the shitty kitchen lighting, that tiny confused frown that had been sitting on their face for the last half hour, or those shiny black bugs for eyes tearing up ever so slightly to snitch on a long repressed yawn.

“Now that the drama is over and the Avengers as such are non-existent – have you considered a career in modeling yet?”

Sam snapped his head towards you with such force and speed that for a moment you were afraid you’d have to spend the rest of the afternoon sewing it back on his neck. You grabbed your mug still pretty much filled to the brim with tea and raised it back up to your mouth to hide your lingering half-smile behind a faded portrait of baby Archie on the ivory porcelain.

“Just saying, I would buy anything for this face on the package alone,” you continued with the confidence of a woman who hasn’t got a single drop of shame left in her body. But it was fine ‘cos you didn’t actually mean it, right? It was all just a joke, an attempt at lightening the mood and snapping him out of his puzzled melancholy. And that tiny flutter of your heart upon hearing Sam’s perfect little chuckle was but a momentary malfunction of the organ. The incident was purely physiological. No contribution from any emotional factors. It was simply an innocent coincidence that these two, completely unrelated things had co-occured.

So when your gazes met, you didn’t tear yours away in embarrassment – you stood your ground, completely unaffected and unbothered, ignoring the increasingly hot sensation in your cheeks when you saw Sam raise a cheeky eyebrow at you. Before even more damage could have been done, however, you decided to cut the party short.

“Oh, no. Don’t get your hopes up, Birdman. I simply couldn’t keep watching you in your deeply disturbed state.”

Very, very smooth. Cleared of all suspicion. Good job.

“Wow. Okay. That was cruel,” Sam scoffed and gave emphasis to his words by bringing up his right palm dramatically to his chest, right above his now most definitely broken heart. The overall effect got ruined by an annoyingly goofy grin in the end and before you even realised, you had already reached out for your massive mug again to drown your own erupting smile in the hot liquid.

In the silence that followed, however, you saw Sam’s smile fall ever so slightly, as if exhaustion or worry were holding onto the corners of his lips, physically tugging them down, and you shifted slightly uncomfortably in your seat. It was time you had stopped messing around with the poor guy.

“Look, I know this is weird but I’m sure we can find a solution. Just call Sarah so she can stop worrying now,” you suggested, finishing your tea and pushing the now empty mug to the middle of the table before leaning back in your seat.

“Ugh, yeah,” Sam started slowly, squatting down to get his mobile and the charger out of his massive sports bag. “Can I plug this in somewhere?”

You blinked at him a couple of times while he waited patiently for your answer. You could only imagine the number of missed calls and unread texts waiting for Sam on his phone, but you decided you didn’t know him enough to give him a lecture on behalf of his sister. So you just gave him a tired nod and gestured lazily towards your battered kitchen counter, Sam following your direction with his gaze.

“Above the microwave. Oh, and the socket farthest to the left–”

“–doesn’t work. I remember.” Sam flashed another exhausted but friendly smirk at you above his shoulder, and you allowed yourself to return the gesture to his back once he wasn’t watching.

“Right, sorry. Forgot I was the intruder here,” you joked, delighted to earn another one of those irritatingly lively chuckles of this man’s.

You seriously needed to get your shit together.

“Okay, while your phone is doing its thing, let’s call Sarah from mine, I guess” you continued, jumping up from your chair the moment Sam returned to the table and you headed towards your worn little couch where you scratched Archie gently behind his right ear. “Where have you put my phone, you dirty old man?” You cooed, smiling softly while sliding your hands under the cheap cushions and booping your irritated cat’s tiny nose when your fingers finally touched the cold metal you had been looking for.

Once seated again, you caught Sam staring at Archie, his eyes slightly narrowed in what appeared to be deep concentration. You furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head, waiting for your uninvited guest to notice you.

“I don’t think your cat likes me too much,” he finally said, slowly tearing his gaze away from the pet feline’s and looking into your slightly more welcoming human eyes instead.

You chuckled dryly, turning around to see Archie in all his glory on the couch. He simply gave you an unbothered look before completely losing interest in the two of you, and he hopped of the couch, slowly making his way towards your bedroom where you knew he would bundle up under your bed on the cosy carpet. He had apparently decided it was time for his beauty sleep.

“Yeah, he’s like that with everyone. Nothing personal,” you assured Sam, who offered a tired half-smile in return. You cleared your throat gently, eyes fixed on your phone’s screen and fingers already searching for Sarah’s number. Once you had found it, you handed it to Sam whose only job left was to press the call button. You raised your eyebrows at him expectantly and he let out a sigh while reaching out for your mobile.

* * *

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to talk to Sarah. Quite the opposite, actually. But he was embarrassed. Sam knew full well how furious his sister was going to be. And honestly, rightfully so. He couldn’t argue with that. After all, she did say there had been something she wanted to talk to him about. And Sam did hang up on her without a passable excuse. And he did let his phone die on his way back home to Louisiana.

Yeah, he most probably wasn't going to be nominated for this year's Brother of the Year award.

Their last call had happened two days before. Two days is a long time without any news from a brother who had just returned after having been believed to be dead for the past five years. And if you had been to ask him, Sam wouldn’t have been able to tell you what had gotten into him either but ever since the Blip, something had not been exactly right. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what was going on, so he hadn’t brought it up to anyone, but his brain felt slow and foggy as if it hadn't had time to catch up yet.

Sometimes, Sam worried that the molecules in his brain had been mixed up and hadn't been put back into their original places in the process of the whole turning-into-dust-and-back-into-human-form-again thing.

It was a silly thought, yes, but with everything going on in the world, would it really be that hard to believe?

"Hey hon! What's up?" Sam's thought process was cut off by the endearing voice of his sister, and though he was aware all this affection was not directed towards him – given that he had called Sarah on your phone – his heart did swell upon hearing her again.

And then he said hi and it all went south from there.

Sarah was obviously pissed.

She asked Sam if he had any idea how many texts and missed calls she had left him, and no, he had no clue but if he had to guess, the number would have been way high up in the double digits.

Then she started going off on Sam, using different kinds of actually very creative euphemisms – which was a problem because Sam got so distracted by his sister's choice of words that her short, well-thought out rant had very little effect on him, but at least he had enough self-respect left to get his sister off speaker at this point.

"Look, Sarah, I know I messed up but I'm fine! I swear," he started, cutting his sister short while subconsciously picking at the skin around the nail on his index finger with his thumb. "What if I stop by Andy's and tell him to give me their best apple pie?" Sam added, hoping this promise would serve as an ice-breaker. Sarah did love her desserts. A lot. And Andy always gave a discount to the Wilson family, too.

When he heard his sister's tired sigh, Sam's heart gave a hopeful flutter, but he was rudely dragged back onto the ground on his way to cloud nine the very next second.

"I'm doing the shopping at the moment. Just got here and it's gonna take long," Sarah replied, annoyance poking through all her words. Then, the tension that had been dominating the pair's call suddenly seemed to evaporate as Sam sensed a weak shadow of a smile in her following sentence. "But that apple pie does sound good."

Sam couldn't help the grin that creeped its way onto his face and he didn't even care about Sarah's semi-serious threat, saying how they were nowhere near finished yet. He muttered out a quick sorry again, promised Sarah to give her regards to you and finished the call with a charming 'I love you' to which his sister replied with a snarky 'I bet' before hanging up with a promise that she would call again when she got home.

Sam let out a relieved chuckle before handing you back your phone and taking the final sip of his slightly lukewarm coffee, watching your bright red-nailed fingers tap away on the device, and he swallowed harder and probably louder than he had meant to. You just happened to put your phone down the very next second, so he tried to cover up the gulp by clearing his throat and shifting his gaze from your nails to your eyes.

Beautiful eyes.

Well shit.

"So, I guess you're staying," you started hesitantly, raising your eyebrows at Sam in a slightly impatient manner, which snapped him out of his blissful thoughts and thrust him back into reality.

Was he staying? He certainly had nowhere to go now that he was practically homeless and his sister was unable to welcome him in her own home for the next two hours, at least. But then again, you were a complete stranger whose afternoon he had just disrupted, and it didn't matter how weird it felt seeing you be so at home in his apartment because it wasn't his anymore. It was yours and you had all the right to kick Sam out and he had absolutely zero right to argue.

But, thankfully, he didn't have to.

"Which is fine, by the way. I did promise you an explanation, after all." Sam couldn't quite ignore the hint of dread behind your words and he was ready to object, to leave you alone and spend the rest of his afternoon doing God-knows-what, but then you offered him another cup of coffee followed by a tiny but honest smile, and Sam just couldn't bring himself to say no.

* * *

Sam Wilson was ridiculously easy to open up to.

It made you want to commit a crime.

His gaze was so intensely warm that after a while, you were looking at everything in your apartment but him just to avoid accidentally trauma dumping on him, especially when you got to the part about group therapy.

Because you had met Sarah at a group therapy session approximately four and a half years before.

It had been clear from the very first minute that neither of you had actually wanted to be there and that both of you had been forced into this situation. Sarah had been dragged to group by an overly enthusiastic co-worker of hers whose crush on the counselor had been probably more intense than the trauma she had suffered – she had lost a dog and her neighbor to the right whom she had always talked shit about behind his back. She was a nice enough woman, but considering that people had lost actual family in the Snap, her presence had always been mostly aggravating, to say the least.

In your case, it had been your grandmother who had bullied you into going to one of the sessions because 'she had the same rotten mentality when Miss Taylor told her to go but then she found it life-changing'. At this point, you had become so indifferent to everything in the world that you hadn't needed much convincing to go. You had told yourself it would be one session anyway after which you would have told Grandma Ethel that 'therapy was simply not for you' and could have been back to your usual Thursday evening routine consisting of a cheap bottle of red wine and depressing reruns of trashy British reality shows from the late 2000s.

The actual sessions had never worked for you. They might have if you had actually spoken up at any of them but you had never become quite ready to talk about your loss in front of a dozen other people, most of whom you had already known. But then you had met Sarah and something about her had made you feel secure, secure enough to talk about them for the first time, so you had started hanging out at a café not too far from the community center and it had become the best thing in your life.

"And the rest is history," you finished, getting up from your chair to put both yours and Sam's mug in the sink and watered your nearby plants while at it.

"I'm really glad Sarah had someone by her side," Sam commented and you could hear a hint of guilt in his words but you decided to ignore it. You simply nodded and muttered out a weak 'yeah', saying you were just as happy to have found a friend like Sarah.

Then Sam said something that made all the muscles in your body tense up and you froze completely for the next couple of seconds.

"And have you seen your family yet? Now that they've come back?"

It was an innocent question. He doesn't know the whole story. So calm down.

You slowly put down the glass you had used earlier to water your plants and tried with every particle in your body to put on the best toothpaste commercial-worthy smile you could force out of yourself before turning back towards Sam and answering his absolutely understandable question.

"Yeah!" No. "They're doing well, actually!" They're fucking dead.

Sam's genuinely happy smile was way too much to handle and if it hadn't been for a call from Sarah, you would have broken down in tears right in front of him the very next moment.

So instead of all that, you decided to turn right back around, pour yourself a huge glass of cold tapwater and down it in one breath while Sam finished his brief conversation with his sister. The stinging pain in your chest that followed was enough to distract your thoughts until he was finally at the door, saying goodbye and thanking your for the coffee and saying sorry for intruding and taking absolutely way too fucking long to finally leave.

"Hey, um... I could give you my number? If you ever need anything or..."

He can't be serious.

"Sure! You can, ugh, put it in my phone," you replied, your hands shaking dangerously as you reached into your back pocket for your mobile and handed it to Sam, who knew better than to comment on it.

Once finished, he returned your phone with one of those irritatingly joyful smiles of his and with a final 'see you around' Sam Wilson was off and you proudly patted yourself on the back for successfully holding it together until you finally reached your couch.

* * *

mini-series taglist – let me know if you want to be added

@softieyn

@mahvericks

@amirahiddleston

@fireghost-x

@samuelthomaswillson

@itsnottilly

@loveyhoneydovey

@songofcosplay

@titaniumstark

@falcons-wings

@claudiaatje

@srodulvroux

@annathesillyfriend

@lokiandbuckylove

mcu taglist – join here

@babymango-writes

@softieyn

@spencereidisabicon

@whutisthus

@katethecrazy

@swanimagines

@amirahiddleston

@remusflirts

@musicallisto

@skinny-bitch-juice

@teti-menchon0604

@anon-2837282

@sarai-ibn-la-ahad

@heart-eyes-horan

@lxncelot

@amortensie

@claudiaatje

@gimmelovepls

@raven-emxralds

@whovianayesha

@the-jess-life

[veryreallyfuckinbad]

FIRE AND MOSS // Daryl Dixon X Reader// CHAPTER 5

TW: Strong language, implied abusive relationships.

Days passed quickly at the farm. Your schedule was filled with hunting, scavenging, killing any walkers that wandered too close, taking watch. You fell into a pleasant routine- one that was rare in a world full of nothing but surprises. You were busy every day, but once the sky darkened and cheerful conversations faded into faint whispers around a crackling campfire, you felt the same freedom that accompanied you when you were on your own. You loved every single member of your new family- maybe besides Shane, who was an asshole to everyone who didn’t agree with him. You became close with Maggie, she was like an older sister that you’ve never had. Daryl was still very much an enigma, but you felt most comfortable in his company. He began cracking small, dry jokes from time to time and never complained when you ran your mouth or tried to lift the mood with a stupid joke. Once his patience ran out, he would eventually kick you out and send you back to your tent, but you didn’t mind. You knew the man by now and were grateful for the smallest of talks with him. Despite enjoying the “mundane” life on the farm, you were like a wild animal- you couldn’t stay in for too long, eventually beginning to pace around your cage in a haze. The cage opened once the sun set. You enjoyed running around the dark, empty fields and rolling in the grass with Jake and telling him every Greek myth you could remember his namesake telling you. You knew he couldn’t understand you, but somehow hoped he could. The grass under your body felt cold and cooled you down, the blades ticking your legs and hands. Tonight was one of those nights.

Your hands traced circles in the grass that you and Jake were laying on. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you took a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Jake was lying beside you, you haven’t seen him this relaxed since you were alone in the forest with him. The stars were shining bright above you, moonlight giving everything a dreamy glow. You closed your eyes and took in the moment, basking in the cold light of the moon. The grass smelled fresh, and made you feel more awake- more alive. Your eyes shot open when you heard the familiar crackling of a campfire. Once you sat up, your eyes were met with a familiar orange glow. Daryl was sitting by the campfire, his face illuminated by flames. You stood up and carefully made your way over to him, making sure to stay out of sight and not make any noise. Once you got closer, you could see the man clearly.

His face was partially covered with loose strands of hair, but his eyes were filled with disappointment, anger and sadness. He was exhausted- a single look at him proved it. Dark circles outlined his cold eyes and he looked paler than usual.

“Daryl?” your voice was nothing more than a whisper, but he still jolted up, startled. He eyed you and sighed, dipping his head.

“What the hell, woman?” He spoke roughly but quietly, no louder than you. “Ya watchin’ me?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, taking a step out of the shadows with Jake carefully following you. Daryl was selfless, brave and tough but awful at speaking to people. Bad with people, in general.

“Funny coming from you, Dixon” you heard him scoff as you motioned for him to scoot over so you could take a seat next to him. He complied with a slight grunt and made space for you.

Daryl was tense, more so than usual. You wondered whether he was hurting- physically or emotionally. Whatever it was, something wasn’t right and instead of prying, you decided to do everything you could to cheer him up.

“Wanna talk about it?” you looked at him and for a brief moment, your eyes met. He was surprised- you caught him off guard.

“What d’ya mean?” he asked, turning his head to look at you properly.

“I’ll take that as a no, then” you shot him a tiny smile and turned your gaze to Jake, who sat by your legs. You looked down at him and as your eyes met with his, you decided to stand up and take a seat on the cold, wet grass and rested your back on the log you previously sat on with a sigh. You closed your eyes and began running your fingers along the fox’s fur, whose eyes also shut.

Daryl watched you in pure disbelief. He had so many questions that he didn’t know which one he should ask first. He’s seen you rip walkers apart with your bare hands, throw knives, hunt, yell at the undead to come out already so she can kill them and sleep (which, that one time it was Daryl, not a walker). She was dangerous, but not because she would hurt him. She was dangerous because (Y/N) occupied his thoughts more often than she should, he spent a lot of time thinking about how brutal, violent and fearless she could be, just to come back to camp and ask him how his day was or tell him about things he didn’t care about, like the TV shows she liked back when television was a thing. She could be violent, covered in blood, but she always turned into a gentle, caring and understanding person during every conversation she had with him. Moments like these made him reflect on himself and his friendship with her. Her previously blood-stained hands were now ever so gently running along her fox’s fur. He would never admit it, but he admired how she didn’t treat him like a pet, like so many people would. Both her and her fox were nothing but wild, with two sides to them.

“What d’ya like to draw?” the question left his mouth without him even realizing it, he was so lost in thought that the words slipped out on their own.

“People, animals, sometimes places I like” you answered truthfully, with a smile, enjoying knowing he was curious. He might’ve asked it for the sake of being polite, but you knew that wasn’t something Daryl Dixon would do. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you stood up and looked him in the eyes. “Hold on” you jogged to your tent and after shuffling around for a couple minutes, you came back and trotted to the spot where you were previously sat. You handed him something you’d never willingly show someone else- your sketchbook.

He examined it and opened it gently, as if afraid of tearing your most prized possession apart. He flipped through the pages and stopped to look at a sketch of Jake, then at a halfway-finished picture of Rick, Carl and Lori, sketches of Glenn and Maggie. He flipped over to the last filled page- the very campfire you were sitting by. He looked at that particular sketch longer than at the others. Daryl examined the picture and with every glance, he found new details he hasn’t noticed before. The fire was in the center, the logs you sat around it, some out of view. He noticed your tents in the background and smiled when he saw his crossbow laying in the grass. His fingers brushed against the paper with a tenderness you’ve not yet seen in him.

“It’s not the best, I know, but I-“ You began, but before you could say anything else, Daryl’s voice sounded over yours.

“Nah, I love it” he sounded genuine, a spark appearing in his eyes for a brief moment. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

“It’s yours!” you offered him a big grin and affectionately patted his knee. He didn’t flinch away like he usually would, simply looking at you and back at the drawing. You nodded and took the sketchbook from his hands, your hand brushing against his. You carefully tugged on the paper and ripped the page out, about to hand it to him before your eyes widened and you retracted your arm. Daryl didn’t say anything and watched in silence as you grabbed a stray piece of charcoal from your campfire and used it to write something on the back of the page. Finally, you handed it to him and once again leaned against the log.

“That’s the first gift I e’er got.” He almost whispered as you felt your stomach turn. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You looked him deep in the eyes and shot him a confused look, hoping he would elaborate. To your surprise, he did.

“Shit childhood. No Christmas, no nothin’.” He looked away, his cold gaze turning to Jake. You had to physically hold yourself back from wrapping your arms around him. Daryl tensed, frustrated with himself for opening up to you for no reason. He didn’t know you cared or that you appreciated him sharing at least a tidbit about his past. His eyes were still fixed on your fox companion, you weren’t completely sure of his intentions but you knew that he wouldn’t hurt him, so you relaxed slightly. Daryl began chewing on his thumb, something you noticed he did as a nervous tic. You knew he hated pity but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Daryl, I’m so sorry” despite being at a loss for words, you went on, “You didn’t deserve that.”.

As soon as the words left your mouth, he turned his head to look in your eyes, but it felt like he was staring right into your soul, your heart. Nobody has ever told him that. Still, despite being grateful, he refused to believe you said it just to be polite, or because you didn’t know what else to say. There was still a part of him that believed you meant it and it made him more confused than ever.

“I didn’t have the best life, either” you began without even thinking about your words, all you wanted was talking to him, “You know, even before shit hit the fan. My love life was about as pretty as one of them undead assholes” you joked in order to lighten the mood, trying to make light of your very unpleasant, even horrifying relationships- the kind that left bruises on your body and moss on your heart. Daryl didn’t even flinch. Not even a scoff of disapproval, so you continued, “Then, after it all began, I met a group- no, my family. They saved my life and taught me everything I know.” Daryl was convinced you were finished sharing and opened his mouth to speak, but you went on, not caring whether he would see you as weak if you cried when recalling your previous group. “The man that kept me alive, he was like a second father to me, his name was Jake.” Your eyes welled up with tears as you pressed the fox sitting beside you close to your chest. He climbed onto your lap and snuggled into your touch, comforting you the best he could. “He gave me my knife, he gave me a second chance, he gave me all the skills I have, but when our camp was attacked I just-“ your whimpers, which turned to full sobs by the middle of your confession, were interrupted with Daryl’s voice, sounding more tender than usual.

“That’s enough.” He sounded concerned, but comforting. “What matters is yer okay now. Yer here an’ yer alive.” By now, tears were streaming down your face and dripping off your lips and nose. “Besides” he began again, not sure if he should say what he wanted to say, but one hopeful, curious glance of your glossy eyes pushed him to speak. “Ya still have Jake”

You couldn’t help it, you stood up and stared at him, whimpering from time to time. You opened your arms slightly and looked him deep in the eyes. “Can I?” You desperately needed his comfort, no human has comforted you in your moments of weakness since the days of your old group. Daryl simply nodded in response and grunted as you inched forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, sobbing into the crook of his neck. He didn’t hug you back, but you didn’t mind. The man avoided physical contact with everybody in his group, so you were grateful he even let you get so close to him. “Thank you”

Jake’s whimpering caused you to pull away and look at him with confusion, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

Daryl chuckled and smirked lightly, shaking his head at the fox.

“Didn’t take him for the jealous type” he motioned towards Jake with his head and smiled. “I like him” he said, causing you to giggle. You felt much better, all thanks to him. The whole night, you caught him staring at your companion, he was clearly intrigued. You decided to take your shot.

You placed your hand on Jake’s fur and stroked it gently with your palm. Once you felt him relax, you reached your free hand out to Daryl, who was watching you with curiosity in his pale blue eyes. “Give me your hand” you instructed and hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions. Thankfully, he obliged but flinched slightly when your hand touched his. You guided his hand to Jake’s snout as gently as you possibly could, not wanting to scare either of your rather wild friends. You brought his rough, ragged hand to the fox’s nose. Jake looked up at you. You were never very religious, but in that very moment praying seemed like a great idea. You were all but horrified that he would take a bite of Daryl’s fingers, ruining the chance for mutual trust between him and the animal.

You sighed with relief and released a breath you didn’t know you were holding as Jake sniffed Daryl’s hand and didn’t move, simply licking his snout afterwards. The archer’s hand felt less tense now, as if he wasn’t bracing himself for the animal’s teeth in his hand at any second. You took his hand once more and you could swear you could hear a breath hitch in his throat, but he didn’t flinch or pull away. You placed your own hand on the soft fur of Jake’s scruff and grabbed his, pulling it closer carefully, until it was laying on top of yours. His hand was much bigger than yours, covering it whole. Your hand began sliding from beneath his, and soon, his hand was laid on top of Jake’s soft fur. You looked at Daryl and gave him a big grin. Happiness completely overtook you, allowing you to completely forget about the tears you shed just moments ago. Daryl gave you a huge smile, bigger than you’ve ever gotten from him. It was genuine, you could see the pure joy in his eyes- almost like a child petting a stray dog for the first time. His hand travelled through the flame-colored fur, making sure to be as gentle as possible.

“Holy shit” he breathed out and looked at you with the same smile he gave you earlier, his eyes lit up. He looked at Jake with emotions you weren’t sure he could feel until then- joy, awe, love. Daryl was completely invested with brushing the animal’s soft pelt and hardly noticed you chuckle.

“I never realized you were such a softie” you jabbed playfully, somehow knowing he wouldn’t take it personally.

“Shut up”

Once you convinced the hunter to try and get some shut eye, you kept watch with Jake and scratched him behind his ears. Pride filled you, as if you managed to tame two wild beasts at once. The quiet crackling of the flames caused you to get lost in thought, almost putting you in a trance. Daryl’s words echoed through your head, like a lost voice bouncing against walls in your brain. He was so gentle with both you and Jake, allowing you to open up and finally feel completely comfortable around him. You chuckled to yourself when the image of Daryl’s hands shaking slightly when touching the fox ever so gently, as if he was afraid that he could break him into pieces with one wrong move. A strange feeling fluttered in your heart- and stomach. One that you haven’t felt this strongly yet, you were unsure what it meant, but you didn’t want to dwell on it and hoped the answer would just present itself someday.

You’ve already guessed that Daryl’s childhood wasn’t stellar but you never expected it to be quite that horrible. He was sweet, in his own Daryl-Dixon-tough-asshole way. In your eyes, he deserved nothing but gratitude and-

And idea popped into your mind. You remembered the way his eyes lit up and how you felt the walls he built around himself crumble a bit when you gave him your drawing. You smiled and gave Jake a pat on the head while reaching over to retrieve your sketchbook and grabbing a piece of charcoal from the sizzling fire. You got to sketching, beginning with a two circles and some simple shapes, and before long, the shapes turned into two beautifully rendered figures- Daryl and Jake sitting next to each other by a fading out campfire. Daryl was smiling softly while Jake was leaning into his hand, which was placed upon the fox’s head, between his ears. The picture was incredibly tranquil, you could almost hear the hushed chirping of crickets in the grass behind them. Content with your work, you stood up and tiptoed to Daryl’s tent, careful not to wake him up and slipped the drawing in the opening of the tent. It was halfway inside, halfway outside of the tent, like a letter delivered by a lazy postman. You shot his tent a smile and decided to get some sleep yourself.

Daryl turned over and sat up as soon as he heard you zip your tent up. Once he was sure you were inside, he grabbed the piece of paper you slipped through the crack of his tent opening and examined it. A smile appeared on his face as soon as he realized he was in the center, petting (Y/N)’s beloved companion. He felt grateful and incredibly happy, but he also felt something else- a foreign feeling which made him wonder. That woman really was dangerous, she could occupy his thoughts for hours without him even realizing it. Despite his confusion about the new, strange emotion, his smile never wavered. He crouched and dug inside the bag that laid right next to where he slept and finally, pulled out a handful of colorful drawing pins. With a quiet grunt, he pinned the drawing to the wall of his tent in a spot where he could easily look at it while laying down. Staring at the gift, he remembered the other picture you gave him, and the note on the back that he didn’t read yet. He retrieved the now bent in half piece of paper and turned it over. He choked on his own breath when he read the message written on the back.

“I guess it took the apocalypse for you to get a gift, but you better get used to it now. You deserve it, Dixon.

-(Y/N)”

_______

taglist <3

@writers-adversary @kimchiwen @mileysnavely @srhxpci

[calpops]

falling facade | c.h.

part one: falling flowers

A friendly date with Calum’s best friend’s sister was not supposed to tailspin into a night of blurry secrets and uncertain feelings. And yet, there was no telling of the fleeting taste of sugar and the warmth of being with each other. There was no denying all that lingered between them. And consequently, there was no escaping all of the repercussions and mixed emotions the night created.

5k words

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

<< >>

The party was verging on completion when Calum finally worked his way over to her; he had spotted her almost immediately after entering the yard. He almost didn’t recognize her after years of change and distance. She sat alone on the grass, back to the house with a bottle leaning against her leg. Music was becoming a background noise as the glitzy house party began to wither away. Calum approached her slowly and kneeled down, his own drink settling on the grass. Her head was tilted back, gazing up at the stars in a silent introspection. Calum knew she was aware of his presence; the slight shift in her position offering him a spot by her side. He took it without a word and pressed his back to the siding of the house just like her; let his eyes wander up as he cleared his throat.

“Hey, short stuff,” he began with; the old nickname coming off his lips in a teasing manner as it always had.

“You know I hate being called that,” she answered as she always used to. “Ever since we were kids.”

Calum nodded though she couldn’t see it, her gaze still captured by constellations. He let out a breath as his hand hovered over his drink and his eyes skirted down to hers. It was nearly empty and he couldn’t help but wonder how many she’d already had. His hand abandoned his cup in favor of settling on his lap.

“And I’ll have you know I hit my growth spurt since I last saw you,” she defended as she finally turned to catch eyes with him.

Dark hazel eyes were unblinking and unfazed. She had changed over the years, but her unflinching ability to hold eye contact stayed the same. Calum remembered her in hazy moments. Michael’s sister was sifted into the background of many memories. Now she was a thought at the forefront as Calum arched an eyebrow and took up the bait of banter.

“Yeah, how much did you grow? An inch?” He asked as she sighed with pouted lips and eyes that told him he was a fool.

“Two, actually,” she corrected in such a matter of fact voice Calum couldn’t argue; or continue to use his nickname against her.

“Alright. Arden it is then,” he conceded and though the name was foreign on his tongue after years of not using it the slight smirk on her face made him want to continue the practice. “How has Arden been lately?”

She gave him a pointed look and a smirk but shrugged, a forced nonchalance taking over. She picked at an imaginary loose thread on her striped pants as her feet wiggled and she figured out how she had been doing. Calum gave her time to think it over, craving an honest answer.

“I’d say I’ve been doing okay in some aspects,” she replied and shrugged again. “Maybe not as okay in others. I’m no famous rock star, that’s for sure.”

Calum bit back a sarcastic laugh at her last comment but let the reality of her words before wrap around him. Okay and not as okay. She was a conundrum, a kaleidoscope point of view; this and that all at once. Calum suddenly wanted to see from her eyes, see the shifting lenses and the light and reflections of how okay and how not okay she was.

“Last I knew you were off in Italy somewhere, what brought you all the way out here?” He asked, hoping that maybe Italy and her reasons for visiting were a part of the okay aspects.

Arden shifted, turning so her weight was on one leg and knees were bent and she could face Calum fully. She reached for the bottle she was nursing and took the last small sip from it before putting it aside and pursing her lips in thought.

“Michael didn’t tell you?”

Calum shook his head; confusion clear in the motion. He couldn’t remember Michael mentioning why his sister was here; just that she would be around for a while. He could jump to conclusions and assumptions. A visit finally due after years of evading the city. Needing a favor. Missing her brother. None seemed plausible enough to bring the ever unattainable woman to a standstill in a city she seemingly hated and avoided at all costs. She had travelled the world; studied abroad and backpacked through countries Calum had only ever flew over or saw through airport windows. Yet she steered clear of the place Michael had made a home. And evidentially, that meant she steered clear of Calum.

“A wedding. It’s actually in Vegas but I knew I’d catch hell if I came all this way and didn’t pay him a visit,” she explained and Calum could sense tension in her words.

He’d settle for that explanation; for now. It was thin and terse and he could tell there was much more to it than that. But he was never one for pushing. Time would do the telling much easier than she would. Or Michael, possibly, if Calum asked in the right way. The mood was darkening in a way he didn’t want; a frown cutting across her face as they sat in silence for a moment.

“You didn’t tell me you’re getting married,” Calum joked, hoping his words would lighten the conversation.

He was rewarded when she laughed, but it was all taken back when she sobered and an unknown sadness captured her eyes. It was fleeting; there and gone in an instant. Shying away from the not okay as she reeled herself back in from scattered patterns of shadows.

“Not my wedding,” she said with a slight eye roll and smile; an attempt to follow his lead of lighting up the mood. “It’s pathetic enough I’m showing up to this wedding by myself. Be even worse if I was alone at my wedding. It’s too bad I don’t even have a friend to go with me.”

Calum let out a sarcastic huff and tried to ignore the speculative gaze she now looked at him with. When she didn’t look away and he could see the gears turning—already knowing the thoughts playing in her mind from just one look—he began to shake his head.

“No,” he said before she could say anything else. “No, I’m not gonna be your date.”

The words felt heavy. Heavy enough to sink to the bottom of his stomach and churn. Heavy enough to make him look away from her pleading gaze.

“Oh come on,” she said, voice verging on cracking. “I never ask you for anything.”

“I never ask you for anything either. It’s worked so far. Let’s keep it that way,” he said, words quick to defend his no though his mind wasn’t so sure about it.

When she went silent Calum felt a pull to turn back, heart heavier and faster in its rhythmic beats. Her eyes were now downcast, hands in the grass as fingers tugged on blades and slow breaths escaped her. He was almost certain she was calming herself, as if the situation was enough to make her cry. To make her not okay. Calum felt himself regretting his no as she looked up at him with shining eyes. He stole himself and licked his lips.

“Why don’t you ask Ashton? He likes Vegas.”

“He’s busy,” Arden mumbled and Calum gave her an incredulous look.

“So I’m just your back up then?” He feigned outrage but dropped the act when she seemingly didn’t want to play along.

“I figured you’d say no. I was stupid to even mention it,” she said, trying to wave away the situation as she leaned back against the house, finding the stars once more. “It’d just be nice to have someone I’m comfortable with there. A little moral support.”

“It’s just a wedding, Arden, you’ll be fine,” Calum murmured though he wasn’t sure of his own words.

He’d never seen her like this before. Admittedly, he didn’t spend much time with her alone, ever, but of the memories he was bringing back in none held such weighted words and somber tones. Arden shook her head and emptied her hands of the grass she had pulled up. They drifted off in a sudden breeze and Calum pulled his jacket a bit tighter around him. The night air was cool and he wondered how Arden was fairing in a tank top.

“It’s just a wedding, you’ll be fine,” she repeated and grabbed for her bottle but dropped it when she remembered it was empty. “You try saying that when the ones getting married are your best friend and your ex.”

Calum’s heart sank and stomach twisted; the revelation hitting him hard. He couldn’t imagine that, couldn’t fathom what she must be feeling. She turned back to him and bit her lip.

“Don’t go,” Calum suggested but he knew it would fall on deaf ears.

“That’d be worse than showing up alone.”

“Bring Michael,” he said and even he couldn’t hold back laughter.

“You really just want to embarrass me, huh?” She asked with blazing cheeks and a disapproving shake of the head. “The only thing worse than showing up alone or not showing up at all is showing up with a sibling. I’ll just go by myself.”

They lapsed into silence and Calum took a moment to think, to feel, to see things from her perspective. She went motionless; no wiggle of her feet, no picking at threads or plucking at blades of grass. Her gaze left him and focused on the fence separating property lines in front of them. His heart was pounding hard and fast, eyes burning at just the thought of her situation. Of Arden having to face all of that alone. Of being the one to let her down. His mind was already made up when she spoke again.

“You know, the reception has an open bar. And it’s Vegas. We can ditch as soon as possible; go gamble or drink our woes away.”

“You had me at the open bar,” Calum said though that was a lie. She had him with her glossy eyes and a truth that must have been painful to admit. “As long as Michael’s okay with it.”

Arden smiled, the woes already washing away and being replaced by shining stars twinkling in her eyes. She leaned in closer, barely a breath away.

“Thank you,” her lips nearly brushed his cheek as her whisper carried to him.

Calum warmed at the almost kiss and watched as she slowly stood, eyes searching the remnants of the party. In their conversation more people had fled, the music had been low to begin with but was nonexistent by the time Calum was pulled back.

“I’ll go tell Michael now,” she decided and began to take off in search of him, but turned back to Calum with a smirk. “We leave tomorrow. At five.”

Calum let out a breath and watched her go. He’d be ready. Waiting. Curious and taken by his best friend’s sister’s sudden reappearance and the mysteries that followed her. She’d been evasive for years, as soon as the band took off so did she. Keeping her distance and the answers to mysteries with her.

***

“I don’t know how you suckered me into not only going, but into driving,” Calum mumbled as he switched lanes.

They’d been in the car a while already but the situation was still perplexing to Calum. The road to Vegas wasn’t long in retrospect; for all the time he spent in tour busses and on planes a four hour drive was minimal. But, he was still dumbfounded at the fact he was behind the wheel. Arden’s art of persuasion had grown in the years they were apart.

“I don’t know my way out of California,” she offered and Calum could see from the corner of his eye the way she stretched out in her seat, legs wiggling in her attempt to get comfortable. ”Besides, we’re in Michael’s Tesla, it’s not like you really have to drive if you don’t want to.”

“I still have to be alert and in control. I don’t trust self driving cars,” Calum rebutted and then thought for a moment, a new question suddenly striking him. “If it wasn’t enough you got me to drive, how the hell did you get Michael to let us take his car?”

Calum spared a complete glance her way for just a second, just to see the smile on her face and the way her nose scrunched up.

“Laid the sweetness on thick. Begged, even. Said I’d tell mum on him,” she answered with a giggle.

“You did not.” Calum bellowed out a laugh, suddenly transported to a time where that threat was very real.

If Michael wouldn’t let her play video games with them. If they teased her just a little too much. Got caught spying or reading her journal. A threat of telling always followed. Sometimes tears, but always a threat.

“No. He was nice enough to say yes after a little bit of a puppy dog pout and about thirty minutes of begging.”

Calum straightened and tapped his fingers on the console. “You know I have a car we could’ve taken.”

“Sure,” she said quickly and clipped. “But it’s not as cool as a Tesla.”

“My car is cool,” Calum defended with a staunch expression.

Arden reached over and patted his hand lightly, as if comfortingly, the contact a bit odd; hardly ever having been so casual in those encounters. Not since an almost brush of her lips against his cheek as a thank you last night. And rarely before that.

“Whatever you say.”

The rest of the drive was quiet between them even though Calum had hundreds of questions filtering through his thoughts. He didn’t want to ask when his focus was on the road. He wanted to be able to fully gauge her reactions to them, note if her eyes averted his gaze or her words were tight and said between her teeth. He wanted to know the truths. So instead they listened to music. Her playlist was moody; darker themes carrying the lyrics and heavy instrumentation creating the songs. He felt that maybe there was something to understand there. He often found that music spoke louder than words.

By the time they got to the hotel exhaustion from the drive was winning over. Calum was able to secure his own room last minute; coincidentally and perhaps luckily, across the hall from Arden. With another odd form of contact—an unsure hug that lasted mere seconds—they bid each other good night. Calum stumbled into his room, peeled off his pants and shirt and fell into bed; half dreading the next day and half anticipating his time with Arden. It took him a while to fall asleep, usually he knocked out as soon as his head hit the pillow. But there were too many thoughts and memories swirling through his mind.

Morning came in a rush. It took Calum no time at all to get ready for the wedding; merely showering and throwing on a suit. He wandered across the hall when he was done, wondering if Arden could use some company while she got ready, wondering if she might answer his questions in the meantime. The door swung open after the first knock. Arden stood before him in a bathrobe, hair in a towel and face clean of makeup.

“You’re not even close to being ready, are you?” Calum asked as she moved aside to let him in.

“Ten minutes,” she declared and shut the door before stalking off to the attached bathroom.

Calum was fully prepared for ten minutes to be twenty or thirty or even an hour. He couldn’t ask questions between the walls of the hotel and the obnoxious noise of an old hair dryer blasting on what he assumed was high. He was settled into a chair shoved in the corner, the muted curtains dominating the wall were pulled open just enough for some natural light to spill through and play against the patterns on the carpet. Before Calum could pull his phone out to kill time the hair dryer was shut off and Arden came stalking through the room, headed for her bag on the bed. She was quick in grabbing what she needed; a pair of shoes and something else Calum couldn’t quite make out. Her hair was dry and fell softly down her back; chestnut brown lightening from the sun. Arden looked over at Calum, a bite of a smirk on her lips as she backed away from her bag.

“Five minutes,” she updated with a promise and now Calum was apt to believe her.

When five minutes blew by and all was silent Calum stood from his chair; curious if five was turning to ten. He approached the bathroom door slowly; it was wide open and Arden stood dressed and ready. A red silk dress was heavenly against her skin and Calum wondered if maybe it was too much for a wedding; surely upstaging the bride—but then, for a moment, he considered that no matter what she wore no one else would compare. The dress was short but the Vegas heat provided reason for that. Her hair was now up but loose tendrils framed her face. Painted red lips were quivering and her face had gone flush; hands gripped the lip of the counter so tight her knuckles were visibly whitening. She looked up and caught Calum’s eye in the mirror; detached herself from the counter and moved to him with stiff motions.

“I’m ready,” she whispered with tight words and now shaking hands.

Calum wasn’t sure what led him to placing his hands on her shoulders—another form of touch they had never been comfortable enough to do—or why it was starting to feel so natural. He didn’t understand the way she responded, letting out a breath as if her worries were easing. Only when she locked gazes with him did he speak up and realize how hard this truly was for her.

“You know, we don’t have to go if you aren’t okay,” Calum offered; his sincerity on his sleeve and in his gaze.

Arden shook her head. “No, no. I’m fine. Just a little nervous; I didn’t drag you all the way out here for nothing.”

“Well, it is Vegas. We could just go gamble or drink,” Calum repeated her words back near verbatim and it earned him a smile.

“After,” she said with a decisive head nod and moved away from Calum’s touch and to the door.

He watched her turn her confidence on as they walked to the chapel and then saw it crash and plummet upon entering and having to decide between the bride or groom’s side. Posing as her date left the opportunity to hold her hand open; to give her some comfort while being authentic and playing the part. Her palm was warm and her fingers gave him an appreciative squeeze, and while Calum didn’t notice during that particular moment he responded by running his thumb along the back of her hand soothingly. As if by instinct.

“Guess we’ll go to Viv’s side, at least she didn’t dump me,” Arden mumbled and Calum felt shock tingle up his spine as she led the way to a pair of seats.

The mysteries of Arden’s past were presenting themselves in small offhanded sentences. In queried answers that were tight and hard to swallow. It was almost as if the more Calum found out the less he wanted to know. Yet he needed to; he needed to figure out the okays and not so okays.

Through the ceremony Calum’s gaze kept wandering over to Arden; noting the way she shifted uncomfortably, letting her whisper in his ear as the bridal court walked down the aisle. Her whisper of at least she didn’t ask me to be a bridesmaid, those dresses are hideous making him smirk as he knew she was attempting to cover her pain with humor. He kept his hand in hers and although they’d never done something such as that—possibly the closest being a high five as kids—it felt almost normal as time passed. And in the midst of the vows; generic words that made Calum roll his eyes, he realized there was more to Arden’s world than he realized. He couldn’t picture her ever dating the man at the altar. Simply put, and only ever said in Calum’s mind, he looked like a douche. Like his name was Chad or Justin or something of the sort. The ceremony became a blur to Calum by the time they were at the reception; the promise of an open bar looming past the dance floor.

If Calum hadn’t been holding Arden’s hand he would have lost her in the crowd. She moved with graceful steps past people in their way. The venue was dark but lit with flashing lights. It felt more like a house party than a wedding reception to Calum but the loud drone of music drowned out the chatter of people he didn’t know. The dark provided an escape for Arden as she managed to wrangle them through the crowd and into the shadows. They stopped just short of the bar, tucked into a corner where eyes couldn’t find them and she could catch her breath. Calum could sense it was becoming harder for her, that the ceremony had done her in and the first dance was more than enough to keep her there.

“Want to dance?” Calum asked before he even knew the words were in his mind. His hand was held out to her and in the moment he rationalized it would be a good distraction. Arden bit her lip as she contemplated.

“I didn’t think you were one for dancing,” she said but took his hand nonetheless.

“Guess you don’t really know me.”

“Not anymore,” Arden said and Calum felt the weight of those words.

As he pulled her closer and onto the dance floor the distance they’d had between them for years became more apparent. They were never particularly close growing up, but they’d been in each other’s orbits long enough to know one another. He realized in a mournful way the Calum she knew was still a shy teenager with dreams bigger than his mind could allow at the time. She knew someone who was uncertain and still trying to find a path to follow. A boy with a choice and no right or wrong answers. And he knew her to keep eye contact with volition but blush at the drop of a dime. Teeming with wanderlust but having nowhere to go.  A girl with too many contradictions. Time had changed them and any fragment of what they once knew had blown away in years worth of winds.

The music had shifted to something slower, the lights easing with the song to glows scattered across the floor. Calum’s hands settled around her waist; with a light touch and questioning look to ask if it was okay. She communicated that it was by settling her hands on his shoulders. They found a rhythmic sway to the music even though their bodies were a bit stiff at another new form of contact. It took a few moments to warm up and relax. Calum explored her eyes, how dark they were against the glare of white lights. He had questions and now—while they were so close—seemed the best time to start asking.

“When did you even meet them?” He asked, referring to Viv and Chad or Justin or whatever his name was.

A timid and sorrowful smile captured Arden’s lips. He hoped the question wasn’t too much, wanting to avoid another glossy eyed or white knuckled incident. She sighed and Calum felt her hold on his shoulders shift slightly but stay present. He expected her to drop her hold, to fall into silence or turn and walk away. Arden was full of surprises.

“When I was studying abroad. Viv was my roommate and at the time my best friend. I dated Brett until my second year,” she explained.

Brett Calum mused, somehow, that was even worse than being a Chad or a Justin. He realized she kept the details to a minimum but held eye contact; Calum knowing it was the truth. A small bit of the truth that left more questions circling his mind but he was patient; willing to wait for her, knowing there was more than meets the eye.

Arden’s lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed as she thought back to a time he really didn’t understand. Her eyes were contemplative and Calum found himself diving back into them. Her gaze flickered and the lighting played against deep hazel and made it nearly golden for just a moment. He noted the way she squinted when lost in thought and was floored at the sudden panic that captured her now frantic stare. Her line of sight was past his shoulder.  It had him turning, catching the bride and groom passing by. It must have been shocking for her; speaking of them in small and painful fragmented words in a world where their lives were intertwined. And now she was an outcast; seeing her old best friend in white with her ex at her side—looking as happy as a couple could be. Without thinking, without inhibitions, he pulled her closer and without hesitation she reciprocated; tucked her head against his chest and let her arms slide down and wrap around him. He felt her body ease against his, could almost hear the breath escaping her over the boom of the music.

Calum’s heart was racing, body buzzing and electrified but the world was in slow motion. The sound of the music faded and all he could hear was the thump of his heartbeat; wondered if she could hear it too. Surely, with her head to his heart she could hear and feel it as well. He chalked it up to the moment. Everything was just a little bit too much. The song was too slow and the lights were too dim and they were too close. The moment was too intimate and it left his reactions skewed. He was susceptible to the influence of everything around them. That’s what he told himself when his hands found the small of her back and his head dipped down, an intoxicating and now familiar scent of honey and peaches finding its way to him.

Arden pulled back and looked up. The heels she wore put them nearly at eye level. And once again Calum found himself moving without thinking, pushing a strand of fallen hair behind her ear and letting his fingers linger and trace down her jawline. She was quiet but Calum swore she moved into his touch. The thought of who they were and who they are entered his mind but it was fleeting. Titles such as best friend’s sister became meaningless in a darkened moment with minimal space between them. This time, with nothing but thoughts accompanying his movements Calum leaned forward; painstakingly slowly with minute movements, giving Arden time to think as well. Maybe his thoughts weren’t all together and rational and maybe he was under the influence of their surroundings and maybe she was too close for any other thought to break through. There were a lot of maybes that made up the moment she closed the distance and red lip stain graced Calum’s lips. It was demure and brief but somehow Calum felt audacious and that time itself had stopped to allow it. His mind was spinning with senses of Arden he’d never known before. She tasted of sugar and left him in an airy free fall.

All too soon it was over. Calum cleared his throat and Arden blinked rapidly. They both came back to reality and a silent understanding of it never happened and it doesn’t count—both separately convinced of the influence of the atmosphere—settled between them. Arden went back to resting her head against his chest and Calum’s hold drifted back down. The music had picked up in tempo but another understanding of we’re fine the way we are slowed the music and the world and with eyes closed the flashing lights didn’t matter. Calum still felt like he was falling; completely winded and not sure he’d ever land or what would be waiting for him if he did. He found himself lost in the moment and sifting through memories; moments in which Michael had mentioned Arden in the years he hadn’t seen her. He was trying to piece her together and hold them together, another sorrowful feeling tugging at his chest as he realized all of the circumstances. That little title in his mind ringing alarm bells he found jolting. He drowned them out in favor of pulling her just a bit closer.

The music cut out and the world made room for a bridal tradition that had Arden on edge. Her grip on Calum tightened at the announcement and a nervous bounce had her shifting weight from leg to leg. In a matter of moments the bouquet would go flying and land in the hands of the person to be married next. A crowd formed around the bride and Arden looked away.

“How about… we go get a drink,” Calum suggested, wanting to take her away from the scene unfolding before them. Wanting to mend whatever pain and heartache she may be feeling.

She nodded.

“How about two? And then we leave.”

Calum followed her lead, quick steps carrying them away from the situation. He heard the drop. Turned to see a bouquet of flowers landed where their feet had been moments ago; Arden luckily oblivious to the unlikely affair. He turned and picked up their pace, wanting to avoid the rush of people trying to find the tradition. Wanting to put plenty of distance between them and falling flowers.

<< >>

If you’d like to be added to my tag list, just let me know! 

Tagged: @rosecolouredash @irwinkitten @golden-hood @who-do-you-love-5sos @caswinchester2000 @wildflowergrae @empathycth @cuddlemecalx @malumsmermaid @babylon-corgis @outerspaceisbetterthannothing @mariellelovescupcakes @xhaileyreneex​ @goth5sos​ @gosh-im-short @feliznavidaddycal @loveroflrh @findingliam-o @flowerthug @g-l-pierce @talkfastromance4 @cashtonasfuck @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer @wastedheartcth @calumscalm @notinthesameguey @akafeliznavidaddy @myloverboyash @treatallwithkindness @haikucal @wiildflower-xxx @calum-uncrowned @egyptiangoldhood @drarryetcetera​ @another-lonely-heart @megz1985 @idk-harry @dinosaursandsocks @wildflower-cth​ @idontneedanyone​ @everyscarisahealingplace​ @myfavfanficsever​ @stormrider505​ @karajaynetoday​ @mantlereid​ @hemmingslftv​

[vanillann]

the malfoy siblings (draco malfoy x lil sis!reader)

hi thank you for the request love, sorry if it’s not the best i’m an only child so i’ve never had an older brother help!!

i’ll add you to the draco tag list, let me know if you want to change

warning: swearing

word count: 626

“Stop banging on my-“

Draco rolled open the door to his room, not expecting his little sister watering eyes on the other side.

“Dean broke up with me.”

Draco was a dramatic person, everyone knew that, but he didn’t think that being dramatic about wanting to kill Dean was to be underplayed.

“Come here stupid.”

(Y/N) wandered into her older brother's room, trying to hold on to tears to look strong in front of him but so far it wasn’t going so well.

“I’ll kill him,” Draco mumbled and he threw himself onto his bed, his sister moving to sit beside him.

“It’s not his fault-“

“Not his fault my ass, we should tell father.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and looked over at Draco.

“We can use that prick as an excuse for anything,” (Y/N) spoke as she pulled up his black comforter and pulled it around her.

“Then I’ll do it, no hesitation.”

The first thing Draco thought of was that moment in the tower, that moment where Dumbledore's sad eyes watched his and he could do it.

But this wasn’t Dumbledore, this was the jerk who broke his baby sister heart.

“Why does someone always have to die with you?”

Draco gave a wicked smile and looked over at his sister, her eyes red most likely from crying but she was holding back a smile.

“It’s fun.”

She watched as Draco shrugged, causing a giggle to erupted past her lips.

“Shut up dick.”

“Stupid.”

“Jerk.”

Draco smiled again, pleased to see his sister wasn't too far gone yet.

“Hey.”

(Y/N) smiled over at him, the tears no longer in her eye but her smile still wasn’t there.

“Wanna stay with me tonight?”

She pulled at the pillow that had a loose thread, smiling and nodding her head.

“I’d like that.”

Draco smiled and moved to his bedside table, opening the drawer to find boxes of candies, muffle candy.

“I got your favorite.”

(Y/N) smiled as her brother pulled out boxes of the muggle candy, knowing he hated anything to do with them.

“Thanks.”

(Y/N) picked up a box and opened it quickly, pulling out her favorite colored candy.

“You know, I saw this coming.”

Draco looked up, watching as she played with a few pieces in between her fingers.

“What do you mean?”

“I knew he was going to end it, especially with everything that’s about to happen and no one trust me because..”

(Y/N) trailed off but Draco didn’t need to hear it, he knew.

He knew the Malfoy name was cursed, no way to escape the never ending pain of it.

“At least when you get married you can get rid of it,” Draco shrugged, trying to lighten the mood best as possible.

“If I get married, who’d marry a Malfoy unless they were forced.”

Draco watches a few tears fall into the box of candy, his heart breaking right before him.

“I’ve seen Potter giving you puppy dog eyes, maybe that could lead somewhere?”

“Harry Potter wouldn’t date a Malfoy.”

She set the candy down on the bed and looked up at her big brother, wanting nothing more than a hug and comforting words.

Draco just sat up and patted his shoulder, this was the only thing he knew how to do.

(Y/N) moved closer to him, shoving her face in his collarbone and letting the tear take over.

He ran a hand up and down her back, a few gently “Shh” and “Its okay” fell past his lips, hoping he was helping at least a little.

Draco heard the sobbing calm down, just little sniffles falling past his little sister's lips.

“Thank you dickhead.”

“That’s what big brothers are for, stupid.”

hp tag list:

@siriusmaraudeers @marauder-exe @haphazardhufflepuff

draco malfoy tag list:

@okaydraco @coldlilheart @starcross16

[eastofthemoon]

A Paladin in the Fire Nation

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Rating: PG

Series: Voltron Legendary Defender/Avatar the Last Airbender

Summary: After the fight with Zarkon, Shiro accidentally gets tossed into another reality where humans have the ability to bend the elements. His best shot at returning home is with someone called the Avatar, while he waits he might as well take on the job of being the Firelord’s bodyguard.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The next few hours were a chaotic dance of panic and fussing. It didn’t take long to summon the guards, and Iroh wasn’t far behind them, fretting over both Zuko and Shiro while the intruders were taken into custody. Iroh only seemed to calm down once he learned Zuko was unharmed and that Shiro only had a minor injury.

After that, Shiro was taken to see the royal physician who examined Shiro’s arm, before releasing him to rejoin the group back in the royal quarters. Breakfast had been served, but neither Sokka, Toph, Zuko or Iroh were eating as Shiro entered.

“How’s the arm?” Sokka asked.

“Sore, but at least they didn’t have to cut it off,” Shiro replied as he sat next to him.

Sokka and Zuko raised eyebrows, while Toph snickered.

“...just trying to lighten the mood,” Shiro said.

“Weird way to do it,” Zuko commented.

“Well, I could see the humour in it,” Toph commented.

“Amusing comments aside,” Iroh said as he reached for his cup, “we are glad you are alright.”

“Did you learn anything from the attackers?” Shiro asked.

“They refuse to talk,” Zuko grumbled as he crossed his arms. “Unfortunately, I have a feeling we know who they are.”

“But those other guys were always going after Ozai, right?” Sokka replied. “This is the first time we've seen them go directly after you.”

Shiro frowned. “Others?”

Sokka shut his mouth as Zuko tossed him a glare, but then sighed.

“Fine, you might as well know too,” Zuko replied as he rubbed his neck. “I owe you that much. Those men were-”

“Out of my way,” a young female voice commanded.

“Lady Katara, if you just wait-”

The group turned as a young woman wearing blue clothing appeared in the doorway.

“Katara?!” Sokka cried. “When did you get here?”

“Yeah, we figured you weren’t arriving until later,” Toph commented as she reached for her rice.

“I managed to hitch a ride with one of the farmers, but never mind that,” she said as she looked over the Zuko.

“The guards just told me you were attacked.” She grabbed Zuko’s arm and lifted a sleeve. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Zuko sighed as he took his arm back. “I’m fine,” he replied and pointed to Shiro, “but you should be asking him that.”

The woman looked and blinked as if she just noticed Shiro for the first time.

“Um..hi,” Shiro said as he waved.

“Hi,” the woman replied and looked at Sokka. “Who is this?”

Sokka cleared his throat as he stood, walked behind Shiro and patted his shoulder as he gestured dramatically.  “Shiro, meet my sister Katara.  Katara, meet Shiro, our local spaceman.”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “That really doesn’t clear things up.”

“It’s a long story,” Shiro replied as Sokka returned to his seat.

Katara frowned thoughtfully as she took the seat next to Shiro. “Well, you can explain who you are while I heal you. Where are you hurt?”

“It’s just a cut on my arm,” Shiro said, pulling up his sleeve to reveal the bandages. “I’ve honestly had worse.”

Katara didn’t look convinced. “Can you unwrap it?” She patted the container hanging off her hip. “Waterbending can heal something like this without any trouble.”

Shiro blinked. “Waterbending?”

“Katara’s a waterbender, and just let her do it,” Toph commented. “It’s easier than arguing with her, Sparky's attempts aside.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Katara swore as she held up her hands. “It will feel cold and a bit odd, but there’s no pain I swear.”

“Um..alright,” Shiro said, uncertainty in his voice as he held out his arm.

Katara gently removed the bandage and frowned at Shiro’s other scars.

“I’m assuming these are old,” she commented as she pointed.

“Yes,” Shiro replied and didn’t wish to explain further.

“Sorry I can’t do anything about them,” she replied as she set the bandages aside and examined the wound. “I should be able to fix this though.”

Shiro watched as Katara waved a hand, water flowing out of her container and hovering in midair to match her movements. Man, Pidge would love to see this, Shiro thought.

“Now, hold still,” Katara instructed as she moved the water to cover the wound.

Shiro flinched in response, and was surprised to see Katara had been correct. It was cold, and felt very weird, but his wound was aching much less now. In fact, it was hurting less with each passing second.

While she worked, the group filled her in on Shiro’s predicament.

“Another universe?” Katara said as she finished, waving the water back into her container. “That’s rather hard to believe.”

Shiro couldn’t reply. He was too busy examining his arm. It didn’t hurt any more and the cut was completely healed.

“What was in that water?” he asked.

Katara raised an eyebrow. “Nothing, it’s just regular water. I just used it as a catalyst to redirect the energies of your body into the wound.”

“Bending allows you to do that?”

Katara nodded.

“That’s incredible,” Shiro muttered.

Katara frowned and crossed her arms. “While it's nice to be appreciated, I’m starting to believe it.” She glanced at Zuko. “Putting that aside for the moment, what about those attackers?”

“As we were about to tell Shiro, intruders have been trying to get to Ozai,” Toph said as she leaned over the table. “But last night was the first time they went directly after Zuko.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes and thought back how Iroh mentioned having to deal with intruders. “Ozai is Zuko’s father.”

Zuko sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Why were they going after Ozai in the first place?” Katara asked. “Were they trying to free him?”

“We don’t know and so far the men we captured aren’t talking,”  Zuko replied as he sipped his tea. “Hopefully their attitude will change when I-”

A knock at the door interrupted Zuko.  Setting down his cup, he rose and faced the door.  "Enter."

A guard promptly came in and gave a quick bow. “My Lord, I regret having to bring you this news,” the guard started and swallowed hard, “but the intruders escaped.”

“WHAT?!” Everyone in the room cried, the guard flinching at the volume.

“How did this happen?” Zuko asked.

“As far as we can tell, someone knocked out the guards on duty and released the intruders,” the guard reported.

“Are you searching the grounds?” Iroh asked as he stood next to Zuko.

“Yes,” the guard replied, lowering his gaze, “but we have a feeling it’s likely too late.”

“Keep searching for now, and come to me immediately as soon as you find anything,” Zuko replied.

“Yes, my Lord,” the guard replied as he took another bow and exited the room.

Toph clicked her tongue. “Well, that’s not good.”

“How could they have gotten out?” Shiro asked.

“Not by themselves,” Zuko grumbled as he sat and rubbed his face. “The guards had searched them for any weapons or lockpicks.”

Sokka stroked his chin in thought.

“It means either there was another intruder we missed that freed them,” Sokka started with a grimace, “or worse-”

“Someone inside the palace was in on it,” Shiro finished.

Sokka sighed as he leaned back. “Yup, exactly.  Schemers in the Fire Palace, who could have guessed.”

“And I don’t suppose we have an idea on who it could have been?” Katara asked.

“Not currently,” Zuko replied as he sat back down with clenched fists. “With all the diplomats and their staff staying here it could be anyone.”

Iroh took a deep breath. “If that is true,” he said and looked at Zuko with hard eyes, “then we have no choice.”

Zuko blinked, frowned and then groaned as he massaged his forehead. “No, Uncle, not this again.”

“Zuko, this is for your own good-”

“I don’t need a personal bodyguard!”

“Uh..what’s this now?” Sokka asked as he raised a hand.

Zuko gave a deep sigh. “Uncle has been pestering me to get a personal bodyguard for the past several months.”

“Like the patient racoon-turtle, I have allowed events to pass by undisturbed - but that was when we believed they were only targeting Ozai.  After last night, however, I can wait no longer.  I must insist that you have protection until these perpetrators have been dealt with,” Iroh replied sternly.

Katara chewed her bottom lip. “I’m going to have to agree with Iroh. We need to consider your safety.”

Shiro couldn't help but nod as well. Zuko had been lucky he had been around to help him. He might not be so lucky next time.

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Zuko growled as he crossed his arms. “Besides, there aren't any good choices.”

“What do you mean?” Sokka asked.

"Traditionally, I would select someone from a noble family," Zuko replied. "But given that we suspect the assassins are in league with someone in the palace, it's possible that any of the noble families could already be working with them."

Katara paused, scowled, and folded her arms. “That is a fair point.”

“I could be your bodyguard,” Toph said with a smirk.

Zuko scoffed as he shook his head. “Thank you, but while I would survive I doubt my palace would.”

Sokka scratched his chin. “If Suki was here I would nominate her, but as far as I know she’s still with Aang.”

“Who’s Suki?” Shiro asked.

Sokka gave a smug grin. “She’s just a fully trained Kyoshi warrior who can kick anyone’s butt.”

“And Sokka’s girlfriend, for some reason,” Katara added, “but she would be a good choice if she was here.”

“But she isn’t,” Zuko said as he reached for his cup of tea. “And outside this table, there’s no one else in the palace I could trust.”

Sokka placed his hands behind his head as slowly his gaze shifted towards Shiro. Suddenly, he blinked, leaned forward and pointed.

“Wait a second! Shiro could be Zuko’s bodyguard!”

Shiro blinked at the seeming non sequitur, but was relieved to see the others just as confused.

“What?” Zuko asked.

“It’s perfect,” Sokka continued with a manic grin, jumping up for emphasis. “He literally just got here so we know he doesn’t have connections to anyone and he handled those assassins easily -”

“It was a combined effort!” Zuko shouted.

“You, ah, didn’t notice the arrow,” Shiro added dryly.

Zuko rolled his eyes.

“Point is,” Sokka cut in as he marched around Shiro and placed his hands on his shoulders. “He would be a perfect bodyguard for Zuko.   Helpful, quiet, a good fighter, has a weird space-metal arm...”

Zuko growled. “I don’t need a bodyguard!”

“The attack last night suggests otherwise,” Iroh said sternly. “You need to be protected, Zuko.” He glanced at Shiro. “And I also believe Sokka's suggestion to have merit.”

Zuko’s mouth dropped. “You can’t be serious.”

“Before you answer that,” Katara cut in and crossed her arms, “maybe ask if Shiro actually WANTS to be Zuko’s bodyguard?”

Iroh frowned, but gave a nod.

“My apologies, of course,” Iroh said with a nod and looked back at Shiro. “Would you accept being Zuko’s bodyguard? I can promise you will be well paid for it.”

Shiro was quiet for a moment, and then gave a shrug. “Alright, why not.”

“Are you sure?  Zuko has a knack for getting into trouble.” Katara asked.

“I’m stuck here and have nothing else to do until I’m able to talk to Aang,” Shiro replied and narrowed his eyes. “Besides, I’m not the kind of person that can stand by and do nothing while someone is in danger.”

Iroh smiled. “Thank you, Shiro. We very much appreciate it.”

“What about my opinion here?” Zuko asked with a growl.

“Both Katara and Iroh have joined forces on this, buddy,” Sokka said with a shrug. “You fought it, but I think you've lost this one.”

Zuko glared, but finally sighed in defeat. “Fine. I still think you're all overreacting, but you can pay Shiro to stand around.”

“With that said,” Shiro asked, “you just said that traditionally a bodyguard is selected from a noble family.  I'm not exactly nobility on this world - is that going to cause any issue?”

“Oh, it's sure to offend the majority of the upper class,” Zuko replied as he raised his head, “but that’s nothing new. This'll just go on their list of their issues with me.”

Shiro felt some concern over that, but felt it best to keep it to himself for now.  He could ask the others about impending coups later.

“In any case, while Shiro is guarding Zuko the rest of us should see if we can find any leads,” Toph said as she reached for her cup of tea. "It's been way too long since I got to shake anyone down."

“Well, I can’t do any investigation on an empty stomach,” Sokka declared as he reached for his bowl. “First breakfast then I break out my hat and pipe.”

Katara sighed. “I thought we got rid of those.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”

Katara shook her head. “No, no you don’t.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first few days after the attack were relatively quiet.  This honestly didn’t surprise Shiro; whoever had sent the assassins would have to assume that the Fire Lord's entourage would be on high alert. It wouldn’t make any sense to make another attempt immediately.

Few among the palace staff were questioning Shiro’s appointment as Zuko’s new bodyguard. The story was that Shiro had come highly recommended by a close friend and was a fully trained fighter. There had been a few cautious and curious glances as he made his rounds through the palace, but any ill opinions were kept quiet.

The nobles he had encountered were a different matter. None of them protested aloud when Zuko introduced Shiro to them, but Shiro could hear whispers in the background during the meetings where he escorted Zuko, and could feel icy glares as he left the room.

If Zuko had even noticed the nobles' actions, he had ignored them.

“A lot of them are already disgruntled with the changes I made to the court since I took over,” Zuko explained when Shiro asked him about it. “If they're going to hate me for not being my father, there's no point in trying to change their minds.”

The subject still made Shiro uneasy, and he was tempted to wear his paladin armor to be better prepared for the next knives in the dark.   Unfortunately, he was overruled by both Sokka and Zuko.

“Look, buddy, if we’re going to keep the whole ‘I’m from another universe’ thing a secret, kinda easier to do that if you’re not wearing stuff that just screams ‘Look at me! I’m not from this planet’.”

Shiro couldn’t argue against that.

In the meantime,Sokka, Toph and Katara had yet to turn up any useful leads in their investigation. They had questioned all the servants and guards, and had scoured the grounds for any evidence a master earthbender, waterbender, and 'cluebender' might uncover, but so far they hadn't found anything. Whoever the assassins were they had made certain to not leave a trace of themselves behind.

That, or someone in the palace was extremely good at covering for them.  Given the prison escape, more conspirators seemed likely.

Shiro couldn’t help but ponder this as he, Sokka, Katara and Toph went over the list as they waited for Zuko to finish getting dressed.

“All of the servants Toph and I spoke to yesterday couldn’t think of anything out of place,” Katara said with a sigh.

“Are you certain they were all telling the truth,” Shiro asked.

“They seemed to be, judging by their heart rates,” Toph said.

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Their heart rates?”

Toph lifted her foot and pointed to it. “I get around by using my earth bending to sense vibrations, and I'm awesome enough to feel people's heartbeats. If they’re lying, their heart rate tends to go up.”

Shiro frowned as he put it together. “So, you’re a walking lie detector.”

Sokka glanced up from his paper. “ Lie detector?”

“It’s a kind of machine we have that works on the same principle,” Shiro explained as he leaned over the table. “Although, it’s not perfectly accurate.”

“It’s also the same for Toph,” Katara admitted, “but I know that the servants all really like Zuko. I can’t see any of them wanting to hurt him.”

“Really?” Shiro replied, slightly surprised. “I didn’t think he was that sociable.”

“It’s less about him being sociable and more that he isn’t going to threaten to burn them for accidentally spilling water on the floor,” Sokka commented dryly. “You'd think that wouldn't be a high bar to clear, but apparently Zuko was a big relief after the last three Fire Lords - even if banishment was better than what Ozai was doing."

Shiro frowned. “You know the more I hear about this Ozai, the less I like him.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Toph grumbled.

“We still need to talk to some of the military officers,” Sokka replied as he drummed his fingers on the table. “That might get us somewhere since Zuko still hasn’t been able to replace all of the higher ranks yet.”

Shiro froze at the mention of the military. “What about Admiral Jee?”

Katara glanced up and quickly shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t be connected.”

“You’re certain?” Shiro asked.

“He's one of the few qualified replacements.  Zuko selected him specifically because he knows he can trust him,” Sokka explained. “He was the officer in charge of his boat after he got banished.”

“Banished?” Shiro asked.

Sokka, Katara and Toph went quiet as they glanced at each other.

“Right, you wouldn’t know about that,” Toph commented.

I get the feeling there is a LOT I don’t know,  Shiro thought.

Sokka straightened his posture. “Basically, Zuko got kicked out of the Fire Nation for a few years by Ozai and was sent on the quest to find the Avatar.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “He had to find Aang?”

“Yeah, but no one expected him to actually do it, because nobody had seen the Avatar in a century.”

Shiro blinked. “Wait, how old is Aang?”

“16,” Katara replied.

“Then how does a sixteen-year-old go missing for longer than he'd been alive??”

“He got frozen in an iceberg for a hundred years,” Toph added.  "Slept through all the fun stuff."

“Oh,” Shiro said softly and slowly nodded. “That makes sense.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “Wait, that makes sense? There are times I have a hard time grasping it.”

Shiro shrugged. “My friends Allura and Coran got put to sleep for ten thousand years. This is pretty much business as usual.”

Sokka stared blankly before slowly raising a finger. “I have a few questions-”

“Save them for later,” Zuko said as he entered the room. “I have a meeting to get to and I can’t afford to be late.”

“I’m not sure if I can,” Sokka admitted.

Shiro gave a smirk as he patted Sokka's shoulder. “It’s not that complicated. They just have machines that can freeze them.”

“That raises more questions - I've been frozen in ice when I made Katara mad, how -,” Sokka cried, but Shiro just waved farewell as he followed Zuko.

They walked in silence until they reached the door to the meeting chambers.

“I need to explain something to you,” Zuko said as he turned. “The diplomats from the other nations are in this meeting.”

“Oh,” Shiro said as he narrowed his eyes.

“It’s an update on how the reparations from the war are going,” Zuko explained.

“Okay, good to know,” Shiro said slowly. “But that seems straightforward enough.  What else is going on?”

“I believe Zuko is concerned about the many Fire Nation generals who are also in this meeting,” Iroh explained as he approached. “And their commentary on these issues can grow quite heated,” he cleared his throat a moment before smiling. “No pun intended of course.”

Shiro’s eyes narrowed. “I’m assuming not all the generals agree with how you’ve been making amends for their conquests.”

“I have managed to replace a few of them,” Zuko asserted before sighing, “but the ones that remain from my father's reign hate the idea even more than everything else I do.” He looked at Shiro. “I’m telling you this because they won't hesitate to take advantage of an outsider to our culture.”

Shiro frowned. “So, you’re saying I need to be careful.”

“What you need to do is just sit quietly while we talk,” Zuko explained. “The important facts are that anyone in red is part of the Fire Nation, the man and woman in green are the latest diplomats from the Earth Kingdom, and the man in blue is Aput, an emissary from the Northern Water Tribe.”

“The Water Tribe,” Shiro asked. “So, Sokka and Katara’s home.”

“No, they are from the Southern Water Tribe, who I'd honestly rather be dealing with today. Sokka or Katara can explain that whole history later."  Zuko grumbled under his breath.  "Spirits willing, this meeting won't take too long - but don't hold your breath, and just...try not to draw attention to yourself if you don't have to."

“Understood,” Shiro replied as Zuko turned to open the door and enter the meeting.

--------------------------------------------------

The meeting, in spite of Zuko's pleas to the spirits, went as expected. Far longer than planned, participants shouting over each other, and most of the words being ignored by those who didn't want to hear them.

“In spite of your promises to help rebuild Water Tribe ships, we have yet to receive so much as a stick of the lumber you claim to have sent over two months ago,” Aput stated.

General Ikai sighed. “And as we said at the time, that shipment of wood was sent to where it was needed more - the Southern Water Tribe, not the Northern.”

“So once again we are being forgotten.”

“No one is forgetting you,” Yezow one of the Earth Kingdom diplomats chided.

“In spite of your efforts to be forgotten during the war,” replied Zae, the other Earth Kingdom diplomat as she gave a huff. “We should turn our attention to places that actually suffered over the past hundred years, such as the issues with the Omashu restoration project.”

“King Bumi's most recent letters gave us the impression that the project was completed,” Zuko replied as he resisted the urge to massage his forehead.  Or set something on fire.

“That is King Bumi’s opinion,” Zae replied sharply. “However, the merchants and nobles have a very different opinion on how much of Omashu warrants repair.”

“Oh really,��� replied one of the Fire Nation nobles with a snort. “And do these repairs, by chance, include having their homes expanded on the Fire Nation’s coin?”

Zae glared. “Considering it was the Fire Nation that took over Omashu and forced the need to reconstruct any buildings in the first place, I don’t think you have any right to complain.”

Iroh coughed into his hand. "As Omashu is self-governed, I would suggest that we table discussion of its restoration until we petition King Bumi for a new envoy.  Perhaps this time, he might even not send a howling squirrel-monkey!  While we wait, however, might we move on to another topic?"

Yes, please, Zuko thought as he stole a glance back at Shiro.

Just as he had for the last few meetings, Shiro was keeping perfectly quiet and still. If he was feeling bored, none of that emotion showed in his face. Zuko had to admit it was somewhat impressive. It made Zuko wonder what Shiro had done to achieve such a skill.

“Yes, I concur,” Yezow said as he cleared his throat, which to Zuko wasn’t a good sign. “There is a matter I would like to introduce at this time.”

“And what is that?” Zuko asked.

The man’s face turned grim. “The nations of the world are concerned about your predecessor, the former Fire Lord Ozai, and wish to insist that he be fully punished for his part in the war.”

Zuko’s body tensed. He would rather go back to arguing about Omashu. Or arguing with one of Omashu's 'envoys'. “We have already discussed this with your predecessor, Ambassador Yezow.”

“Discussed, but were unable to reach a final agreement,” Aput added.

“He has been sentenced to remain in a prison cell for the rest of his life,” Iroh added. “And what he considered his greatest strength, his fire bending, has been taken away by the Avatar.  This was pronounced by the Avatar himself as a just punishment.”

Zae narrowed her eyes. “Is it, though? Many of the Earth Kingdom’s sons and daughters have been lost to this war and shall never return home. Farmsteads and villages have been burned to the ground on his orders - but Ozai has a secure roof over his head and receives daily meals.”

“You make it sound like he’s living a life of luxury,” Zuko retorted.  "The roof is there to keep him from climbing out, not for his comfort."

Yezow coughed. “I believe Zae is concerned that Ozai’s cell might not be a true prison given the rumors as of late.”

Zuko closed his eyes, trying not to let out a sigh as he asked the obvious question. “Which rumours?”

“The matter of Princess Azula,” Aput said coldly. “She was loyal to your father, and was credited with single-handedly conquering Ba Sing Se." He paused a moment to clear his throat.  "Despite this...record, I have heard it said that she was relocated to a private estate with her own servant. That hardly sounds like a punishment to me - do you, in fact, approve of your sister's actions during the war?”

Zuko clenched his hands into fists, taking a slow deep breath and focusing his strength on not leaving scorch marks on the table.  This was technically an international summit; setting things on fire and shouting a lot was not the method of diplomacy he wished to resume using. Zuko had worked to keep the full story of Azula’s breakdown quiet and he was not going to waste that effort.  Even though he could feel Iroh's gaze on him, he focused his iciest glare on the diplomats.

“At the end of the war my sister was not well and required special treatment, and that is all I will say regarding the matter,” Zuko said sternly. “However, this leniency was due to a number of mitigating circumstances beyond the scope of this discussion. I can promise you that our father has not received the same consideration, and is now facing the consequences of his crimes.”

“Can we truly take your word, my lord?”

Zuko paused and slowly turned to face the speaker of the comment. This interruption had not been any of the diplomats, but rather one of the Fire Nations' own generals - one of the older, well-decorated ones..

“What do you mean, General Bujing?” Zuko said with his voice full of venom.

The old general barely looked at Zuko as he ran a hand through his beard.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” he said with a sly smile, “but can we fully trust your word given your own judgment as of late?”

Zuko narrowed his eyes. “You would bring my judgement into this?”

Bujing had been one of the most vocal protests against the changes Zuko had made since he took the throne. However, he had been canny enough to speak up only around other Fire Nation generals. This was the first time he had spoken on these matters in front of foreign diplomats.

Bujing gave a smirk and gestured behind Zuko. “Your judgment is made clear by your current choice of bodyguard. You went against our tradition of hiring someone of the court and instead chose this peasant..what’s his name? Riro? To fill a high position on the court.”

“It’s Shiro,” Zuko said as he resisted the urge to turn and look at Shiro's expression. Hopefully the otherworlder was able to keep calm. “And what of it? This is hardly the first tradition I have broken since my coronation.”

“Perhaps not,” Bujing sneered. “But from what I hear this man is not even a bender. How could you expect such a commoner to defend anyone when he can’t even bend? I could strike him down with a flick of my wrist.”

The generals muttered amongst themselves. Aput looked uncertain as Yezow stroked his beard in thought and Zae’s frown tightened.

Zuko clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as he readied his words, but someone beat him to it.

“Could you, now?  Do you want to prove it?”

Zuko shut his mouth as he turned his head to Shiro. He hoped he had just misheard, but Shiro’s determined eyes showed that was far from the truth.

Bujing locked his gaze upon Shiro, seemingly surprised he had even responded. “What did you just say?”

“Do you want to prove it?” Shiro stated as clearly as a bell. “You seem confident that you could simply 'strike me down'.  Why not prove it here and now?”

Zuko swallowed hard as he looked back to Bujing.

The old general narrowed his eyes. “This meeting is hardly the place for a proper fight,” he sneered, “unless of course you mean to challenge me to an Agni Kai?”

Zuko’s eyes widened in panic. Oh no! No! No! He can’t be stupid enough to take the bait!

Shiro frowned thoughtfully. “I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with all aspects of Fire Nation culture.  Would you mind explaining what that is?”

Bujing looked amused. “It  is an honorable tradition and is a duel-”

“Between fire benders,” Zuko sharply cut in and raised his voice, “which Shiro, as you've said, is not.  This suggestion is pointless.”

“Is it,” Bujing replied, “or does it only further my point that a non-bender bodyguard is useless?” He smirked as he stroked his beard. “Besides, I believe that history shows that there has been precedent for an Agni Kai between a bender and a non-bender.”

“There is,” Iroh said slowly, “but traditionally the non-bender would invoke their right to a substitute.” He shot a glare at Bujing. “A right that has been invoked by benders, including the challenger on occasion.”

Bujing's smirk did not fade.

“This is true, but I will not be needing such a thing this time,”’ Bujing said as he raised a hand. “And as a student of history, you would of course recall duels between a fire bender and a non-bender - given the Fire Lord's approval, of course.” He grinned at Zuko. “If your new bodyguard is as capable as you claim, my lord, it would only be reasonable to approve of him showing his skills.”

The other generals and diplomats muttered amongst themselves.

Zuko fumed. It would be Bujing who pulled this. The man still resented him for returning his 'conquests' to the Earth Kingdom, and was eager to claim any chance to humiliate him. The only reason he hadn't had a forced 'retirement' was his popularity among Fire Nation nobility - specifically those most loyal to his father.  The man had cultivated a reputation, and taking direct action would spark dangerous degrees of outrage.

If he refused to approve the duel it would make Zuko's decision look weak, but if he accepted the challenge then Shiro would be put in danger. Zuko glanced at Iroh for aid, but he could tell his uncle looked as trapped as he did.

However, Shiro seemed to have decided for them as he rose and stepped towards the general.

“I need no substitute,” Shiro said, “I will gladly take you on myself.”

Shiro, I am going to strangle you later, Zuko cried out in his head.

Bujing laughed. “Well then, all that is needed is our lord’s permission.”

Zuko sighed. There really was no escaping this, was there?

“Fine,” Zuko said, shooting Shiro a glare before staring ahead. “I approve of this irregular Agni Kai.”

“Then there is no time to waste,” Bujing declared as he rose to his feet. “We shall fight at noon, at the sun's peak.” He grinned. “If you need assistance finding the arena, I believe Pr- Fire Lord Zuko knows the way.”

Zuko's nostrils flared as he clenched his fists tighter.

Iroh quickly stood. “I believe that is enough of diplomacy for today - one duel declared is far from a record, but we need not emulate the pronged goat-beetle today,” he said and gave a quick bow to the other emissaries.

Zuko wasted no time doing the same and only barely remembered not to literally drag Shiro out of the room.

Once they were safely away from the group, Zuko whipped around.

“What did I say about keeping quiet?!” he snapped.

Shiro held up his hands. “I know, but it was clear that he was trying to pick a fight.”

“Bujing tries to pick a fight over what kind of tea I drink,” Zuko snapped. “You have no idea what you just agreed to!”

“I have to fight a fire bender and I’m at a severe disadvantage since I can’t bend,” Shiro replied. “That much is obvious.  But denying his challenge was just going to lead to more problems - you would be back to trying to pick a bodyguard from the nobles you can't trust.”

“That is my problem to worry about not-”

“Enough,” Iroh shouted as he got in between them. “The decision made in haste is made all the same, and your quarrel does little but waste the morning.” He lowered his arms and tucked them into his sleeves. “Whether this was the right action is for later. Right now, we have only an hour or two to introduce Shiro to enough basics of fire bending to grant him a chance.”

Zuko scowled and sighed. “Alright, Uncle. Go find the others and tell them what happened. I’ll take Shiro and see how much we can cram into an hour.”

Iroh nodded as he quickly walked down the hall.

Zuko turned to Shiro. “Let’s go and hope we have some luck on our side.  At least you're probably not going to be as distractible as an airbender.”

“For what it’s worth,” Shiro said as he rubbed his metal arm, “I’ve been in more dangerous fights than facing a fire bender.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” Zuko said.

Shiro gave a bitter smile. “I hope it stays that way.”

The way Shiro had phrased that sent uneasy chills down Zuko's spine.

[srose-foxfire]

“First Impressions” Part 3 -Damirae Short Fic-

Part: 1

Part: 2

Part: 3 ⬇️

Damian knew he had to be paying closely attention in class, but his mind was elsewhere. He had his eyes down on his notebook, scribbling nonsense as to make it look, he was actually taking notes. A raven flew by the school’s 4thfloor window and landed next onto a branch causing Damian to turn his attention to the black bird and forget he was in school. The bird squawked and then flew off, clearly spotting something to eat.

The young Wayne let out a silent sigh as he returned his gaze towards his notes and found he had written Raven’s name all over the page. He could feel his blood boil and his face flushed, not wanting anyone see him turn red Damian laid his head onto his sleeved school coat.  

“Something the matter Mr. Wayne?” Damian looked up, to find his history teacher, poking her eyes out from the top of the textbook she was holding and lifting a brow at him.

“Nothing.”  He simply answered and went back to looking down at his notebook, scribbling some of the words he caught as Mrs. Han continue with the lecture.

-- -- -- --

Damian was glad he wouldn’t had to see any of his peers or his teachers now that Thanksgiving break had started, it only reminded him that the fall semester would soon end and then he would only need to focus on completing his last spring semester as a senior. Already Damian had applied to colleges and universities to please his father, but Damian felt he was ready to take over the family’s company. He has been groomed since a child, but his father insisted Damian have a normal life like any other teen or young adult. Whatever that meant. As he lingered on his thoughts a sudden image appeared across his mind of Raven smiling.

He shook his head and wondered why she was consuming all his thoughts. True he was seeing Raven more often as she hanged out regularly with Cass and Steph over the weekends. They lock themselves in Cass room and do girliethings, Damian could only assume as he would pass by the closed door and hear squeals coming from the other side.  

Damian finally heard the story of how his sisters met Raven. Steph and Cass were out on a shopping spree, while he was away with his father on a business trip. The girls were on their own -none of his brothers offered to accompany them- and bought more than they could carry. One thing led to another that both Steph and Cass lost their grip on some on their purchases, resulting most of their brand-new items to scatter across the mall’s floor. No one offered to help, as the two girls scrambled to pick up everything, only a girl dressed in black came to their aid. She showed no amusement to what had happened only concerned and wanted to help to lighten their day. While the other shoppers only laughed at the incident, the raven-haired girl only offered Cass and Steph a gentle smile. Thus, began start of a beautiful friendship.

Damian couldn’t ask his sisters for more intel, for if he continue to pry into their friend both Cass and Step would become suspicious of his questions. He could try and ask Raven some questions in order to learn more about her but that was something he wouldn’t be able to accomplish. Recently Damian has been noticing that every time he had the slightest chance to speak with Raven in private, either his sisters would come into the room and whisk her away from him. Other times when he would find her alone, she would get a call from her mother to return home. It would seem the universe was conspiring against him to ever redeem himself.

-- -- -- --

Perhaps the universe was finally giving Damian a chance. It was a little pass midday on Thanksgiving Day and Damian was seated in the back of the family’s limousine as Alfred drove him towards Raven’s home. She and her mother were invited to celebrate Thanksgiving dinner at Wayne Manor. Ariella, Raven’s mother insisted they cook some of the dishes themselves to contribute to the meal. This pick-up trip had been tasked to Cass and Jason but the two backed down last minute, making Damian go instead.

He didn’t mind since this would be a great opportunity to be alone and just have a decent conversation with her. Already his mind was working on topics they could talk about, he could share his own favorite novels and authors. Recite excerpts he enjoyed, maybe even get a chance and invite Raven to watch a movie the following weekend. He could feel himself smile a bit at the ideas, he then looked up when he felt Alfred pull-over the limousine. His smile soon disappeared at the sight before him:

Raven was hugging an older boy with green hair.

Damian could feel his heart shatter into a thousand pieces, and it hurt.Could that be her boyfriend? He wanted to ask Alfred to return later but knew the old family butler would question him and that was the last thing Damian wanted to do. Was to talk about his feelings.

“Wait for me here Pennyworth.”

“As you wish Master Damian.”

Damian walked over the two young teens, hiding his fists in in trousers pockets. Raven was still hugging the green hair boy and Damian had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from frowning. The hug ended when Damian grunted, Raven and the guys beside her turned around to face him.

“Greetings.” Who the hell says that these days? Damian wanted to punch himself in the face for making himself look like a fool before them. “Pardon, I came to help you bring anything back to the manor?”

“Right.” Raven only smile at him and cleared her throat before gesturing to the guy beside her “Damian this is-”

“Jasper Sky, I presume?” Damian said so naturally as he extended his hand out to him. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Damian’s hand was still in the air, as the guy before him only lifted a brow at him, “Jasper who-now?”

Raven chuckled nervously before adding, “actually Damian, this is an old childhood friend of mine, Garfield Logan.”

“You can call me Gar for short.” Gar said with a smile before giving Damian a hard handshake. “Well it seems you are busy Rae; I hope you and you mom like the quiche. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Bye Gar.” Raven said warmly and Gar returned the gesture with a huge grin on his face. He went to grab a black skateboard and rode down the block before turning on a corner.

Damian looked at Raven from the corner of his eyes, and saw she was still smiling. Seeing her smiling like that only made him want to smile as well, but he couldn’t allow himself since he was still figuring out his damn emotions. Damian turned his hand into a fist, brought it next to his lips before grunting again. “Apologies, I thought… never mind. Do you need help putting the stuff inside the car?”

“Yeah, my mom left everything ready upstairs. You wanna follow me upstairs?”

Damian could only nod and followed Raven into the apartment building. He could see why Cass and Jason bailed on helping load the limousine. Raven’s home was on the fifth floor, and the elevator was out of order making them go up a few flights of stairs. Damian can only hope, he could stack certain dishes together to minimize the ups and downs. Both teens arrived to a dark red wooden door with 405written in paint plastered in the center. Raven took out some very looking worn out keys and opened the door. They entered and Damian couldn’t help himself but examined the home.

It was small, perfect for just two people to live here. The entrance was right into a small hallway, the left side clearly lead to their rooms and straight ahead was a small living room adorned with a white love seat and a small coffee table. In the living room, there was a small flat screen, on the soft light blue painted walls was adorned with assorted picture frames of Raven and her mother. It amazed him how they were both much alike and could see where the black-raven hair girl got her beauty from. Just a little up ahead was a talk mosaic counter splitting the living room to a small kitchen which was decorated with knitted autumn leaves. There was a small wooden table filled with large crystal containers with different prepared dishes.

“Your home is quaint.” Brain stop talking, Damian told himself.

“Thanks… so if you don’t mind grabbing these and…” Raven pointed to some larger containers which had smashed potatoes, string beans, one with macaroni and cheese. Raven busied herself of getting what looked like gravy, rice pudding, and a container filled with chocolate chip cookies. Damian had thought there were more items, but between them two they would be able to take everything downstairs in one trip.

They existed her home, being a gentleman Damian waited for her while Raven locked the door before heading down flight of stairs that waited for them. They were both silent, concentrating on each step they took so not to trip. He wished he could break the silence but all his previous well though-out conversations in the limousine had decided to escape him. Damian was about to call it a defeat when-

“There’s no Jasper Sky.”

Wait what? He had to blink a few times before turning his head to look at her, but Raven kept her amethyst gaze on the steps below her. Her face had become a somber look, like the confession was had been consuming her. “Pardon?”

“I… I don’t have a boyfriend. I made him up.”

He could feel that it was hard for her to confess but the side of him wanting to comfort Raven couldn’t help but add; “I don’t wish to pry but if you need to vent I’m open-”

“Your sisters kind of pinned me to a corner. Short story we were just talking, and something lead to another which resulted of them lining up guys for me to…date. I panicked and made up the idea that I was already seeing someone, making me create Jasper Sky.”

Damian could feel she had more to say and only remained silent to allow her to continue, “I had to confess to someone and well, out of everyone I feel like you would help me come clean to your sisters. Besides I feel you wouldn’t judge me and… arh! I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“No need to feel embarrassed, I could only imagine the predicament my sisters may have put you through and I feel honor you can confide in me.”

“Thank you, Damian. I really appreciate it.” Raven smiled at him, before going up a step and doing something Damian wouldn’t had expected from her. She gave him a light peck on his cheek. “You’re a good friend.”

Raven descended the last few steps and exited the apartment building, unaware that Damian had stopped at the last step of the stairs as he stared off at her. In that moment he wished he wasn’t carrying items in his arms, wanting to touch the cheek she kissed. Raven was opening-up to him and he couldn’t believe he could have a chance to continue getting know about her, all the while supporting her in any way, she made needed him. He would do anything she could ever asked of him. Damian couldn’t help but feel all giddy inside and wanting to shout out load how happy he that the universe was finally giving him a break. 

A/N: Hello I hope everyone has been staying safe and well. I apologize for not getting part 3 out sooner and hope you enjoyed this. I busy myself and work hard getting this done and edited today. We are nearing the end to ‘First Impressions’ but this has given a chance for me to create more fics and au’s on Damian and Raven. I am also working on some fics for the Damirae Fanzine so that’s currently my number one priority at the moment. Once I am finished with that I am will be open to take some short Damirae prompts (from you) for me to write and help me better myself as a writer. Till next time and Happy Holidays!

~~Simona R.  

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

If You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 3

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordam. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character,

A/N: The babies. I’ve outlined like eight chapters at least, so I think this thing’s just going to go until I run out of steam. So here’s a third part already. 

Part 1 - Part 2

March 2014

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Teresa asked him for the hundredth time since he’d gotten to the church. He was just trying to tie his tie in peace, but there she was over his shoulder, just enough mimosas in her system to older sister him. 

“I can see Victoria. It’s Gina’s weddin’, T. I’m not an asshole. She’s a bridesmaid. I missed rehearsal, but apparently you paired us off to walk down the aisle. Real sensitive, by the way.”

“Don’t like cry or anything either. Or if you do, cry in the bathroom. And leave her alone during the reception. We’ve all been drinking already.”

“I can tell. Honestly, she’ll hate me if anything happens, okay? Last time I saw her I left in the morning.”

“Dominick Anthony Carisi, what the fuck did you just tell me?”

“I saw her in November. We talked. I went home with her. I realized I fundamentally fucked up and she needs better, so I panicked and took a cab home at three in the morning.”

“You mean to say you had the opportunity to make things better with Tori four months ago? And instead you royally fucked up again, and you still think you have the right to mope?”

“I don’t mope.”

“I was at Christmas. You twisted your ring on your finger for like twelve hours and cried in the bathroom when her favorite carol played. Either way, I’m checking in with her. You stay the fuck away from her, Sonny, unless you’re going to get your head out of your ass.”

“Don’t tell me what to do! We been married almost eight years!”

“You haven’t seen her but once since August. Don’t act like this is a perfect relationship. There’s not really one any more.” Just like that, Sonny was left with the groomsmen as Teresa pulled Victoria out of the bridal suite. He bounced on the balls of his feet now as he gelled his hair, not prepared to step out for pictures and actually see her again.

“You slept with Dom?” Teresa bit out, sparing no time.

“Several times?” she joked before sighing and crossing her arms as she realized that no one was going to drop it. “In November. He left. It’s fine. Proved me right.”

“I told him to leave you alone after the ceremony. I didn’t know or I wouldn’t have paired you off to walk together.”

“All the bridesmaids and groomsmen are married to or dating each other, Teresa. We can handle it. It’s what? Three minutes of walking. And who knows. Maybe I want to hang out with him.”

“And you tear up every time we’ve mentioned him the last year.”

“I can behave, okay? I put my marriage in a box and tucked it away for the day. I’ll step out if I gotta cry, but really I had enough mimosas, I can pretend everything is fine but not enough to cry or nothing.”

“Okay. I’m sorry he’s a dumbass.”

“I shouldn’t of taken him home any way. We’ll be fine. Stop being dramatic.” 

As if to prove Victoria’s point, Teresa rolled her eyes, following her back into the bridal suite. The general consensus in the family was that both of them needed to get their head out of their ass and tell each other what was happening, but neither was willing to. She didn’t know they’d already taken a chance to talk it out and ruined it. When it was time to take pictures, none of the sisters missed the way Sonny and Victoria refused to look at each other while waiting their turns. It seemed the toes of their shoes were far more interesting. 

Teresa also noticed both of them were wearing their rings, and for once, Victoria had both the band and engagement ring on, the first time since she’d left. All of his sisters had kept in touch with her, accepting the fact they needed to stop meddling for a while. No one was maid of honor or best man. Instead, all of the siblings and their partners made up the party. That meant Gianna Carisi had insisted each groomsmen and bridesmaid couple get pictures, and she refused to have a separation keep her from having pictures of Sonny and Victoria, even if she was furious at Victoria for hurting her son. 

“Our turn, Tor,” Sonny said, trying to lighten the mood. It was a delicate balance, knowing his sisters and mother were watching them so closely. 

“Pull her to you,” the photographer encouraged. “I hear you’ve been together a decade!” Suddenly, Victoria wanted the ground to swallow her up, and she wanted to know which Carisi had been talking like their relationship was doing well. Still, she followed Sonny’s lead when he took her hand and pulled her against him. His hand came to rest on the small of her back and her hand rested on his ribs, as natural as it had always been. Almost like they hadn’t been living separate lives for seven months. They smiled for the camera, and when Victoria dared to look up at him, she couldn’t help but give a genuine smile at being so close to him again. She was soon rewarded with his dimpled grin, and before her brain could stop her, she brushed the strand of his hair that had escaped the gel back into place.

“Thanks, doll,” he smiled softly, hating the moment they pulled away. It was time for Bella and Tommy, who was freshly paroled and fidgeting nervously. It felt safe to look at Victoria now, and he took her in, thankful for the dress his sister had picked for her. It was a deep green, with a sweetheart neck like her wedding dress had all those years ago. The bodice was pleated before it flowed down, and little sheer straps fell off her shoulder, fluttering around her bicep. She looked ethereal, and he loved the color on her fair skin with her red hair pinned up at the nape of her neck. She caught him staring, and he felt his cheeks flush. Their previous conversation didn’t bring either of them closure, but it got the painful stuff out of the way. He knew why she left. She felt like he’d proven her right. Maybe they could just enjoy the wedding, but together.

“You scrub up real nice, Sonny,” she said, moving to lean on the wall beside him.

“Apparently it was an elaborate ruse for ma to get pictures of us dressed up.”

“Now we got a picture like we’re married.”

“We still are.”

“We need to figure that out soon.”

“How about we just have fun today? Or are you gonna make me hang out with Tommy all day and all night?”

“Divorce talk tomorrow?”

“Deal,” he said, extending a hand that she shook gladly. The thought crossed his mind that the champagne the bridesmaids had been drinking and beers the groomsmen had may be what was taking the edge off now that they’d proven they wouldn’t break if they touched. That was what had worried him the most. He was afraid any touch would break the wall holding back the emotions of the past year. That it would set her off and he’d make her cry again. Instead, she could take his arm easily to walk down the aisle. It just made him remember their own wedding, and while neither would acknowledge it, they still loved each other. It was apparently easy to forget a separation and months of no communication when he thought about her walking to him down the aisle of the same church he’d attended growing up and his sister was now getting married in.

“I’m jealous you get flats.”  Her head came to rest on his shoulder, and he felt a contentedness he’d not felt in a long time return.

“You’re so much taller though,” he joked, pressing a kiss to her hair. 

“True. I can reach your shoulder.” She wanted to say they shouldn’t get so affectionate, but it felt like before he got distant. They were on a team, sectioned off from everyone else. 

“Normally, you’re right under my armpit. Bet this smells better.”

“Your armpit just smells like Old Spice.”

“Good to know it works. Just get through the ceremony. Kick off your shoes at the reception. Just like prom.”

“Promise to cover me? You know Ma will be after me to put them back on.”

“She’s so happy we’re being friendly that she won’t care.”

“Is it weird for you that they’re all trying to play therapist?”

“They know how much I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” Sonny beamed when she threw her arms around his torso.

“You ain’t drunk, are you Tor?”

“Two glasses of champagne. Relaxed, but sober. You?”

“Couple beers. In the same boat.” The last pictures were finished, and everyone was herded to the back of the church and pairing off. Sonny looked down at her with a smile, offering his arm happily. Victoria’s hand came to rest on his forearm, and she grinned up at him.

“You look too damn good in a tux.”

“I could say the same about you in that dress.”

“If all it was going to see you two happy again was for Gina to get married sooner, I’d have made her months ago,” Bella huffed, poking her brother’s back. 

“I’d have done it!” Gina laughed.

“They’ll be weird again next week,” Teresa said, and her husband squeezed her arm. The groom’s brother and his wife shared a look that told him they were still trying to figure out the best way to handle the Carisis, and it was also apparent they hadn’t thought that both Victoria and Sonny would show up and get along.

“Shut up, all of ya,” Sonny said, his free hand resting where Victoria’s sat on his forearm. “We’re walking soon.” Victoria gave him a grateful smile, and soon enough, they were making their way to their spots. They stole glances throughout the ceremony. They were thirteen and fifteen when Teresa got married, meaning their last memory of both being in front of a church like this was their own wedding ceremony, the one his mom helped them plan for their first wedding anniversary. Sonny just kept seeing her in that perfect dress, walking to him in the church they’d always gone to together. 

Where religion was not an important part of Victoria’s life, she believed in God, but not like Sonny did. She thought God was real, but uninvolved because she couldn’t reconcile him with the bad in the world. Sonny was devout and had reconciled his belief in an involved God with what he saw in his work. If there was one thing he was certain of, and had been since the first time he kissed her, it was that God had put him on this Earth for her and her on this Earth for him. Maybe that was why he couldn’t consider a divorce. It felt like a lie. When he talked to her tomorrow, he’d tell her the truth. Tell her how he shut down processing the homicides. Communicate. He took her arm again gladly as they walked down the aisle.

“Feels familiar, huh?” he teased. Every member of the Carisi family had gotten married here, their own church ceremony included. She nudged him playfully with her shoulder, grinning. 

“Long time ago. You got even hotter. Not fair.”

“I could say the same about you.” He waggled his brows, and she laughed, something little he’d missed a lot. She could imagine coming home to him again. Imagine him coming home to her. He was relaxed, laughing and joking like he hadn’t since things were good. Tightness came to her chest as she wondered if it was because she was gone he was doing better. She pushed the thought away, refusing to consider the possibility. Maybe he was happy because she was here. Gina had told them all to sit wherever they wanted at the tables designated for the bridal party, so Sonny settled close beside Victoria, arm slung easily around her shoulders. 

“The best part about no best man or maid of honor?” he murmured, leaning against her. “No speeches. Drinks, dances, garter, bouquet, party.”

“This party? Not ready for Dominick Carisi’s moves.”

“Please, Victoria Carisi? The true talent.” He squeezed her shoulders, kissing her temple. “Can I get you a drink?”

“That’d be amazing.”

“You goin’ gin and tonic or pinot?”

“Pinot.”

“You got it, tesoro.” Now it was really like she had Sonny back. He hadn’t called her by the pet name in years, but he’d insisted it was because she was his treasure to come home to. It always made her blush, and today wasn’t any different. She could see the way his mom was looking at her, lifting a brow. Not sure what else to do, she gave a wave, and Gianna shook her head. His sisters weren’t angry at her. They saw it as just a really prolonged fight. His mom, on the other hand, was furious she’d leave him and even more furious she was dragging it out.

“Ignore her,” Sonny said, sliding a glass of wine in front of her. “She got hysterical me. The girls didn’t.”

“Hysterical?” she asked softly.

“I couldn’t figure out how to function. Bella sent ma instead of coming herself.”

“I should’ve told you in person. I’m sorry.”

“It’s in the past. We’ll figure things out tomorrow.” She cupped his cheek, smiling softly. There were too many good times, she decided. She’d tell him she didn’t want a divorce tomorrow. Maybe she’d beg him to move back in together. His hand went to rest on hers, and he held it in place, turning his head to press a gentle kiss to her wrist before he laced their fingers. Their hands rested on his lap, Gina and her new husband giving a little speech before the DJ announced the father daughter dance. 

“Are you crying already?” she teased. 

“Shut up. You know how I get at weddings.” The hand he wasn’t holding settled on his bicep as she put her head on his shoulder. They watched each dance and as Tommy and Bella joined the other unmarried couples to catch the bouquet and garter. By the time dancing started, their drinks were empty. 

“You wanna join me on the dance floor or at the buffet first, Mrs. Carisi?” He was probably taking advantage of the levity to feel like they’d never been apart, but he was going to indulge as long as he could. 

“Buffet, please.”

“Good choice. Fuel up before we show ‘em how it’s done.” They loaded up plates, settling in at the table and eating happily. He caught her up on the extended family, what she’d been doing, what he’d been doing. They hadn’t really done that last time. That had been all raw emotion and desperation for affection. This felt like they’d never been apart. There was affection, sure, but it was the same grounding touch they’d always had. 

“You hear that?” he smiled, taking her hand and pulling her towards the dance floor. Her eyes widened as she laughed, arms looping around his neck as his arms settled low around her waist. 

“It’s our first dance song,” she giggled, as they swayed off beat.

“You're my sunshine and I want you to know that my feelings are true. I really love you,” he sang off key as she joined in. They could hear his sisters laughing. They still didn’t know how to dance to Queen together, but they’d been very pleased with their song choice, something that seemed to hold true.

She was giddy, a combination of the wine and normality washing over her. He spun her, pulling her close again and peppering kisses to her hair as she flung her arms around him neck. She’d left her shoes at the table before they even got food, and since he’d been wrong about how glad his mom would be to see them together, Sonny chased her off when she tried to fuss at Victoria for being barefoot, but not at any of his sisters. When the songs were the fast kind everyone danced to together, she leaned her back against him and his hands stayed on his hips. When the songs turned slow, he’d pull her against him, singing softly against her ear. 

“You goin’ back to the city?” Sonny asked as the guests filtered out.

“Yeah. I’ll be calling an uber.”

“Listen, I got a hotel room. There’s too many Carisi’s at ma’s.”

“You propositioning me, Sonny?” she teased, arm still wrapped around his waist.

“I wouldn’t turn ya down, but there’s two beds. Was sharing it with Leo, but he went home with one of the groom’s cousins. Otherwise, I’d be sleeping on your couch because you ain’t driving home or Ubering alone.”

“I’d like that,” she smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll pack up my bag and come back. I’m sure you gotta gather your stuff.”

“Deal.” He watched her go, knowing all he had was a duffel bag he’d barely bothered to unpack. She probably had a little rolling suitcase, complete with a change of clothes on top of whatever she’d worn here and the matching oversized shirts the girls all wore. 

“You gotta shit or get off the pot, Dom,” Bella said, stepping beside him with her arms crossed.

“Excuse me?”

“She’s still in love with you. You’re in love with her. Get back together or get divorced. This isn’t healthy.”

“I can’t be what she needs anymore.”

“I think tonight shows that you can. You just won’t.”

“Leave it, Bella,” he bit out. “Let me have tonight. She might leave before I wake up. Or want a divorce. Or I might not be able to tell her how I feel and make it all worse.”

“We just hate watching both of you like this.”

“She was made for me, Bella. I’m not giving her up. But if being separated and staying married is the best I get, I’m keeping it.”

“Whatever you say, Dominick,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “It was just good to see you both happy today.” He saw Victoria coming back, leaving his sister to take the little rolling bag she had, proud to still be able to predict something she’d do. She had changed into leggings and the Fordham Law sweatshirt she’d taken when he’d first started. She took it with her, and he was proud to know that sometimes she was still walking around in his clothes. 

“Ready?” she asked, and he nodded, hand on her back as he guided her to his car. Once he loaded the bags, he opened her door, smiling as she settled in with a yawn. 

“You’re gonna be asleep before we get to the room.”

“I’m tired,” she whined. “We got here early.”

“I’ll get ya tucked in soon, Tor.” When they got there, she was out. The bags were in the trunk, so he scooped her up carefully, kicking the car closed. With some maneuvering, he opened the door to the hotel room before laying her down. He locked the door before running downstairs to get the bags and coming back. She’d wiggled her way out of her leggings and bra, settling herself under the blanket. He couldn’t help but laugh, locking the hotel door and hanging up his suit and her dress as he pulled on sweatpants. He went to the other bad, hearing a quiet protest.

“Here,” she whined, holding her arms out towards him. 

“You sure, doll?”

“Sure. Come hold me.” He obliged happily, climbing into the bed beside her. When she put her head on his chest, he smoothed her hair. The next morning would be hard, he knew. He wanted her home, but he had to tell her about how the homicides impacted him. That would be the hard part. That burden was one he didn’t want to share. He watched her sleep until he drifted off. The sun coming through the window was what woke him up, and he was ecstatic to feel the weight of Victoria still slung over his torso. She stretched as he let out a yawn, smiling up at him.

“Morning,” she whispered, smiling the sleepy smile he missed. Now he realized what she meant. He hadn’t seen that sleepy smile but a handful of times in the months before she left. 

“Morning,” he murmured, rubbing her back. He wanted to say he was scared she’d be gone, but he’d been the one to run last time. If she had, it would have been fair. 

“Breakfast before serious talk?”

“Place has room service. That okay?”

“Yeah. I’m comfy.”

“Me too.” The arm that wasn’t wrapped around her reached for the menu, showing it to her. Once they’d picked, he ordered, absentmindedly twirling her hair around his finger. She put on some movie, and he watched her face as she paid attention. 

“You’re starin’, Dom,” she teased softly, looking over at him. 

“You’re beautiful. Can’t help myself.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, doll.” She stared for a minute before leaning forward and kissing him sweetly. His heart was pounding like it did when he was seventeen and asked her to homecoming as his hands glided over her sides. Her fingers curled into his hair and a soft groan escaped him. Almost a year. It had been almost a year since they were content and lazy, kissing in bed without the plan being sex and sleep or without the desperation of the night in November. She granted him access to her mouth, and a soft gasp escaped her. He pulled back, nipping her lip lightly. Someone knocked at the door, and a disgruntled sound escaped her. He chuckled airily. 

“I’ll get the food,” he said, reluctantly detangling himself from her. Trying to walk backwards to watch her, he nearly tripped, so he opened the door, took the food and quickly scribbled a signature before hurrying back to her. 

“You’re hot when you’re flustered.” He kissed her, cheeks pink. 

“You’re just hot. Here’s your french toast.”

“Damn, that’s even hotter.” He rolled his eyes, propping himself up against the headboard as he dug into his eggs. She settled beside him, eating happily as her head came to rest on his shoulder. It was companionable silence until the food and coffee was gone, then the weight of what they needed to talk about settled. 

“What do you want to happen?” she asked softly, twisting her rings around her finger.

“My wife back,” he said simply. 

“It’s not that simple and you know it.”

“I do. But I don’t want a divorce, Tor.”

“I know. I don’t either.”

“Are you ready to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” He wanted to kick himself as soon as the words came out. He’d spent the night before thinking about what he needed to share and what could help.  When the time came though, his defenses took over. Telling her what he’d seen, how it impacted him, made him feel weak. Like he couldn’t protect her from the horrors of what he had to see. 

“That’s my answer I guess,” she said, and he could tell she was fighting tears as she got back into her leggings and grabbed her phone and bag.

“Tor, don’t go. We can talk more about this. We had a good night, didn’t we?”

“We did, Sonny, but I can’t not know why you acted like that and come home. How the hell am I supposed to trust that you won’t revert back to being absent?”

“Because it’s different now.”

“Why?”

“I’m not ready.”

“I don’t expect every detail, Sonny, but I can’t not know what’s happening in your head. Especially when it makes you act like you don’t want to be home. Like you don’t want me.”

“I want you, Victoria. More than anything.” His hand scrubbed over his face as he watched her go. Maybe this was worse than if she’d left during the night.

“Then call me when you’re ready to actually communicate, Dominick. I love you, but I can’t live like that.”