#Which is absolutely fair & absolutely his right like I wasn't reaching out to Force him to talk to me I just wanted him to know I'm there

[jointcustodyboyfriend]

being someone who worries and cares a lot but is also incredibly afraid of making people mad at them is so so hard

[somethingthing]

Bitter Old Man

Joel Miller x reader

Warnings: a few curse words and angst (arguing), fluff towards the end

Word count: 1057

A/n: That’s it, I’m officially writing Joel fics, I absolutely love the show and can’t wait for more episodes. That’s right, I CAN’T wait, so I’m watching the gameplays, a certain someone just got their head smashed in :’)

Joel had been hesitant to smuggle Ellie out, so had you, but if you didn't take her, someone else would. 

You were held up in one of the decaying buildings, it looked like an old shop. A few items were scattered on the floor, but other than that it was empty and secure. Joel had insisted on triple checking.

“At lest she falls asleep fast” you looked down at the girl sleeping on the floor beside you, using her backpack as a pillow.

“It´s not too late to turn back” Joels gaze was focused on her “We turn back now, dump her off and let someone else take her to where she needs to be” he switched his gaze to you.

“No we can´t” you understood why he wanted to, his brother came first and with Ellie that mission became compromised. He gave you a questioning look, not understanding why not “Joel, she´s a fourteen year old girl being handed form person to person, besides, if she truly can help end this as she says, I´m not sure I trust anyone else with her”

“She is still not our problem, we should be finding Tommy and then be done with it” he sounded almost angry, getting out a stressed whisper “A cure? Bullshit, she made that up just to stay alive a while longer” 

You looked at him disbelief “What is your problem?” you quickly looked to Ellie to see that she was still sleeping “Are you really so bitter that you´ve lost all hope and is gonna blame a little girl for your problems?”

Letting out a deep sigh and dragging his hand over his face, he got up from the floor across from you “I ain´t blaming her, I´m saying that I have more important things to do with my time than looking after a helpless brat!” the frustration was clear in his voice even if he tried to keep it down.

You got up as well, careful not to wake Ellie. You moved away from her, still keeping her in sight but enough distance to not wake her with your voices “Okey let me ask you this, if we don´t help her, who will?” he opened his mouth to answer but you stopped him “And don´t give me that ´not my problem´ crap”

He closed it again for a second, but opened it again “Three weeks” he stepped closer and lowered his voice “You really believe that she's been bitten for three fucking weeks? She´s a ticking bomb!” he wasn't wrong, no matter how long she had fought off the infection, you had no idea how long her body would be able to keep it up.

“Then lets get her to The Capitol building as fast as we can” you were sick of his arguing, turning around and starting the move back to Ellie.

“What then? For all we know Marlene could be dead and we´ll never get our payment” he reached out and caught your arm, forcing you to stay “I get that she's gotten your hopes up about a cure, but come on, you´re not that stupid”

You turned you head back to him “If you wanna be a bitter old man, then fine, be that, but leave me the fuck out of it!” now it was your turn to sound angry “And besides, I´m not leaving her out in this world all alone, would you ever have left Sarah?” the moment her name left you lips you wanted to take it back.

He yanked your arm which he still had a hold of “Watch it” his voice was dangerously low and his face dangerously close to yours “She´s off limits, got it?” it wasn't a question, more of a warning about a line he dared you to cross.

You stayed quiet for a moment, cursing yourself for bringing her up “Joel, I´m sorry, that wasn't fair, I didn´t...”

“Mean it? Yes you did” he let go of your arm “Get some rest, we move out in a few hours” and with that the conversation was over.

You didn't get any rest, but twisted and turned instead. As soon as you all were packed up again, you headed out. Ellie must have noticed something was off, after a few attempts to lighten the mood she kept quiet. 

You made a quick stop, searching one of the old buildings for supplies “Listen, I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have brought her up” you watched how Joel searched through a cabinet.

“Where´s Ellie?” he didn´t turn around, but kept looking through the drawers.

“She´s in the other room” you moved closer “Joel could you just please look at me?” reaching out you put your hand on his shoulder. He stood up straight, looking you in the eyes.

Without saying anything you hugged him, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing gently. At first he didn´t move, but then you felt him return it, slowly “I know you´re sorry, I just...” he paused, thinking of his next words “I just haven´t heard someone say her name in awhile”

You drew away enough to look at him “I know” you didn´t know what else to say, letting you gaze study his face. The memory from the night before, of his face being this close to yours fluttered in your mind. Without thinking you reached out and let your lips meet his, it was fast and thoughtless.

You made yourself ready to apologize, drawing away from him, but he stopped you with a hand on your waist. He drew you in, deepening the kiss you had started “Don’t you dare apologize” he breathed out.

Before you could respond, Ellie stepped in to the room “I knew it! I knew something was going on with you two!” she looked at you proudly as you drew away from Joel, then she gave you a suspicious look “Wait did the two of you… EW I knew I heard voices last night, gross!” She spited out making a disgusted face.

“Okey kid, that´s enough” Joel shook his head and gave her a tired look, but you could see the twitch at the corner of his mouth “Let´s get a move on, we ain´t got all day”

“I can’t believe it” she stated and turned around, exiting the room again “I was in the same room, yuck” you heard her mumble to herself.

You looked at each other, laughing quietly to yourself. Nothing more had to be said, at least she hadn’t heard your argument and that was the important part. That, and what had just happened between you, if you we’re going on this suicide mission you would at least do it together.

———————————

Thank you for reading <33 I’m gonna go and cry in a corner about Joel now

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Notes: This is an expansion of the first section of my Tech Lives short story Lost and Found, and is told primarily from Echo's and Omega's perspectives. It started as a drabble to highlight Echo's/Omega's initial reactions to finding Tech, but my brain just wouldn't stop adding more details so... well, it is no longer a drabble 😅

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 6726

The Lost One

Echo walked into the rather small wooden cabin and glanced around. He was looking for Tintha's engineer/mechanic - the engineer who had become somewhat famous among certain circles not only for his brilliant skills but also due to his rather abrupt appearance on the codebreaking and data slicing scene in the past few years. Word had reached Echo's corner of the Rebel Alliance that not only was this engineer trustworthy and reliable, he could decrypt anything; and Echo needed this data decrypted if he wanted the intel necessary to free the small but influential rebel cell that had been captured by the Empire. 

Echo was fairly certain he was in the right place - the cabin had clearly been converted into a workshop of some kind, with engines and wiring and computers and datapads and other projects in various stages of construction or repair scattered across every surface in some kind of organized chaos - but there was no one else to be seen...

"Do you require assistance?" a voice came from a back room. 

The voice struck Echo as being eerily familiar, almost like... - but that was impossible, so he brushed the thought away. 

"I'm looking for Nu," Echo replied.

"That would be me," the other said, rounding the corner and examining his client with a frank stare.

Echo had seen enough strange things in his lifetime that he thought he had long since reached the stage where nothing could surprise him. But this...

If he didn't know better, he would think this engineer was Tech. An older, scarred, limping version of Tech... Then again, if Tech had lived, he would be about the age of this man... 

But Tech hadn't lived. He had sacrificed himself, shot the connecting strut of the rail car he was attached to in a desperate bid to let the rest of the squad escape. It had worked - the family had survived and even eventually got the Empire off their backs - but Tech had been lost. There was no way he could have survived that fall. 

Shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts, Echo forced himself back to the task at hand. 

"I need the information on this data disk decrypted," Echo said, holding out the referenced item. "I was told you're the best person for the job." 

"Your intel is correct," the one called Nu said, his face taking on an expression of interest as he looked at the disk, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "There is nothing to date that I have not been able to decode." 

It was like talking to a ghost - a living ghost. Which made absolutely no sense, even for a clone who had worked closely with superstitious Jedi. The voice, the mannerisms, the speech patterns, the looks... All of it was so reminiscent of Tech. 

But Tech was dead. 

I have got to get a grip on myself, Echo thought. 

"I expect discretion with this," he stated. 

"But of course, that's standard protocol." 

For some reason, this reassurance alone was enough to prompt Echo to hand the disk over. "How long do you need?" he asked. 

Nu slipped the device into a datapad and, after scrutinizing it for a moment, nodded firmly. "The job will be done within the hour. Shall we settle on a fee of 100 credits?"

"Fair enough." Actually, if Nu was as good as he claimed, this was a bargain. "I'll wait here, if you don't mind." 

Nu nodded again, rather absently this time, his attention now fixed on the data as he stepped over to a nearby counter to do his work. 

Echo wandered aimlessly along the workbenches, glancing at all the projects but with his mind too full of questions to really take note of anything. 

It just wasn't possible. Even if Tech had survived, he would have found a way back to the squad, not hidden away for years on a backwater planet that didn't attract even the Empire's notice. He's not Tech. He's NOT Tech....

The villager who had led Echo to Nu's shop had cautioned him, "Nu is quite nice and very smart, but he is also... odd. Everyone likes him, but he keeps to himself and rarely talks about himself, always seems like..." the villager had waved his hand around his head vaguely before finishing, "I dunno, just odd." Echo could now see what the villager meant: confidence in his own skills notwithstanding, Nu seemed uncertain, unmoored, as if he wasn't fully present in the moment, as if... as if half his mind was constantly searching for information that was just out of reach, even as he expertly carried on with mundane tasks and conversations.

Telling himself he was being illogical and irrational wasn't enough. If something had somehow happened to prevent Tech from coming back to the squad, Echo had to know for sure - and he turned to face the engineer. 

"So where are you from, Nu?" Echo asked in what he hoped was a casual tone. 

Nu looked up at him and blinked. "Are you referring to my birth planet?"

"Yes."

"I... am not sure," Nu shrugged awkwardly.

"Uh, where's your family from, then?" 

"I do not know," Nu replied. He was frowning now. "I don't remember any family." 

"What do you mean?" Echo pressed, anticipation and dread and - was that hope? - building in his chest. 

Nu seemed to briefly ponder whether he wanted to continue participating in this interrogation, before deigning to reply somewhat stiffly, "I was critically injured in an accident many years ago. I remember very little of my life before the accident, and nothing of any family."

Echo's mouth had gone dry, but he pressed on. "What do you remember of your life from before the... accident?"

It was abundantly clear that this was not a pleasant topic for him, but for some reason Nu didn't disengage from the conversation. Instead, he sighed resignedly as he answered, "Nothing that is of any benefit to me. None of it is clear or complete. I cannot even remember the accident itself. I must confess, it is quite unsettling to have dreams or flashes of what seem to be memories, but not recognize any of it." 

"I can imagine," Echo said automatically in an attempt to be conciliatory; but he needed to know more. Everything Nu was saying was leading to one conclusion...

"When was your accident?" Echo asked now, drawing Nu's attention away from the device again. 

Nu's sigh was more impatient this time. "Oh, about a year or two after the Empire was formed." 

Echo's voice was still steady, but he could feel his heart pounding in anticipation. "Where did it happen?"

"On an Outer Rim planet called Eriadu." 

It felt like the bottom fell out of Echo's stomach, and his mind went blank...

"Now, if you're quite finished with the questions, I can get on with the work you requested I complete," Nu hinted sharply. 

Echo blinked - he was still human, despite the cybernetic implants, and he thought this moment was the closest he would ever get to feeling like he was physically rebooting. "Of... of course," he stammered. "It might be best if I wait outside." 

Nu had already returned to his work, and didn't reply nor seem to give any notice to Echo almost staggering to the door. 

Once outside, Echo leaned against the wooden framework, closing his eyes and breathing as heavily as if he had just outrun Imperial infiltrator droids, his mind swirling with the implications of the recent conversation. 

Nu was Tech. He had to be. A man who looked, sounded, and acted like an older version of Echo’s former squadmate and had suffered and accident on Eriadu that had apparently left him with amnesia, and with all the timeframes matching? Echo had never been as good as Tech at calculating odds and risk, but he intuitively knew the odds that this man was Tech were far greater than the alternative.

I have to tell them, was Echo's first coherent thought; and then he corrected himself. I have to tell Omega. 

He couldn't tell his brothers, not yet. Whatever the odds might be, Echo couldn't face the idea of telling Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair that their long-lost brother was alive when there was even the slightest chance he was mistaken. He had to be absolutely certain that his suspicions were correct. Besides, it was clear that Nu - Tech - wanted to regain his memories, wanted to know who he had been before; but he would want solid proof of his identity, more than what at this point amounted to no more than (very) strong circumstantial evidence, and Echo would have to gain Nu's trust if he wanted to have any hope of assisting with this objective. And Echo had the feeling that it would be best to give Nu some space to regain his memories before raising the family's hopes...

"It's finished," Nu said, dragging Echo away from his contemplations and gesturing for Echo to follow as he stepped back into the workshop. 

The engineer handed Echo the original disk as well as the datapad, stating simply, "The data in its decrypted form is downloaded onto the datapad. It will be easier to decipher that way. Now, about payment..."

"Will you meet with a colleague of mine?" Echo suddenly burst out. Events during the recent rebel conflict had made Echo wary about revealing to strangers his familial ties to Omega, and with force of habit prevailing, it was too late to correct it now. "She's a pilot named Omega, and she needs help with a rather complicated task."

If Echo had been hoping the name ‘Omega’ would jog Nu's memories as Tech, he was disappointed. No hint of recognition crossed Nu's face, but his expression did become inflexible, surprising Echo. 

"I will meet your colleague," Nu replied, "but I must inform you that while I sympathize with the Rebel cause and will assist you in these tasks, I am not interested in committing to the Rebellion."

Echo, taken aback, attempted to save face. "Who said this is for the Rebellion?" 

"It's obvious," Nu deadpanned, clearly unimpressed by the other's feeble protest. 

Echo sighed. There were signs Tech - Nu - had changed somewhat over the years, whether from time and experience alone or from the loss of memories, it was impossible to say. But Echo still felt inclined to trust him; and besides, it was a rebel who had recommended Nu's services anyway. 

"This isn't an attempt to recruit you," Echo promised, before blurting out the idea that had been circling in his mind. "And maybe... maybe we can help you figure out who you are, in exchange for your help."

Nu scrutinized him for several breathless moments before responding. "Very well," he assented. "When shall I expect your return?"

"Within the next few rotations or so," Echo replied as he handed over the promised payment. 

"That is not very specific." 

Echo almost smiled. "Now you know what us rebels are like."

Nu shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't matter, as I have no plans to relocate anytime soon."

Echo nodded, even as the thought flitted across his mind that he hoped there might be reason for plans to change in the near future. 

He wasted no time in contacting Omega, opening comms as soon as he stepped into his ship. As usual, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Omega's bright face, though the shock of the recent revelation must have still weighed heavy on his face, for Omega instantly furrowed her brow. 

"What happened?" she asked. 

Echo sidestepped the question for the moment. "Have you completed the Sindoni mission yet?" 

Omega huffed out a breath. "Not yet. All of our attempts have failed."

"There's someone I'd like you to meet who I think will be able to solve the problem." He took a breath, preparing to reveal the news, but Omega spoke first. 

"You're a lifesaver, Echo! Where should I meet you?"

"I need to get this intel back to my people, but we can meet in a few days on the planet Tintha, in the Torus system. I'll send you the coordinates. And... Omega? The person you'll be meeting? It's... Tech." 

****

Omega landed next to Echo's vessel, briefly closing her eyes and taking a deep, calming breath.

She knew Echo would never tell her anything he wasn't sure of... But the idea that Tech had survived and was still alive had been so difficult to grasp that even now, after acknowledging that the evidence Echo presented led to one distinct possibility, she couldn't accept it. 

She had agreed with Echo that they should wait to tell the others - partially because she herself still couldn't believe it. 

She had always been an optimist, hoping for the best - but THIS hope seemed so far beyond the realm of possibility, it was wrenchingly painful to even consider. 

Perhaps this disbelief was why she had remained so calm the past few days as she had prepared to meet her rebel brother on Tintha. Now, however, the butterflies that had woken in her stomach threatened to steal her composure. These weren't the slightly anxious yet giddy butterflies that accompanied significant but relatively low-consequence events like first dates or public speeches or talking to her brothers about getting her own ship. No, these were far more violent butterflies, doing wild acrobatics that made her stomach awfully queasy and her head woozy and her legs weak.  

She wasn't her brothers' kid for nothing, though: no matter how on edge the anticipation was making her feel now, no one looking at her would ever guess how she was truly feeling as she steadily and confidently strode off her ship to meet Echo, giving him a warm hug before letting him lead the way down the quiet, dusty street to the cabin workshop that apparently housed Tech. 

Tech, possibly found alive after all these years of being presumed dead. 

"Just go with the flow," Echo said in an undertone as they neared their destination. "We're just here for me to introduce you and for you to ask if he can help with your squad's problem. Remember, he goes by the name Nu now. I don't think it's time yet to tell him our suspicions."

Omega nodded - she and Echo had been over this several times, but she knew her brother was still processing this turn of events just as much as she was. 

She didn't realize just how tightly she was wound, bracing herself for disappointment, until she caught sight of Nu... And the sudden shocked hope that welled up inside her nearly made her knees buckle. 

"Hello again, Echo," the engineer called to them. 

The face, the features, the voice, the frank and clear gaze... Even the clear evidence of serious past injuries only served to bolster the theory that this man was...

"Hey, Nu. This is Omega, the pilot I was telling you about," Echo said casually. 

Her brain was screaming ECHO'S RIGHT; outwardly, however, she greeted the man who was very likely her brother as she would a new acquaintance she was meeting for the first time, which was rather easy to do given that he approached her the same way. 

She had developed such a strong bond with Tech... but right now she was meeting Nu, and Nu didn't know her.

What if he wasn't Tech...?

If he wasn't, the universe was as cold, cruel, and unfeeling as Crosshair often claimed it to be. 

She swallowed her heartache and the sharp disappointment that so closely followed the surge of hope, managing a friendly smile as she grasped Nu’s proffered hand. "Pleased to meet you," she said in a tone that thankfully came out as calm and even as Echo's had been. 

"Likewise," Nu replied. "Now, what was this project your colleague described as 'complicated'?"

Omega cleared her throat. "We need to find a way to tap into an Imperial communications relay undetected."

"Almost any droid could do that," Nu returned somewhat dismissively. Looking openly at Echo, he added, "Given your cybernetics, you could likely do that."  

Omega shook her head. "We need to install the software for the data tap remotely. All our infiltration efforts have failed; this is our last and only option. And the target is a major relay hub processing intel from multiple sectors, so there are more than the usual layers of security and encryptions to breach..."

"Ah, that is a challenge," Nu said; and Omega's spirits sank when his eyes, which had been gleaming with interest, now took on a faraway look.

"Are you saying it can't be done?" she faltered.

The distant look faded as Nu's attention snapped back to her. "Oh, it can. Though it will take me a day or two. And you must be aware that chances are high the program will eventually be discovered by Imperial security sweeps, though I can assure you it will take quite some time for them to detect it." 

Omega grinned, relieved; she had come here to verify Echo's suspicions that he had found Tech, but accomplishing a major mission objective that had frustrated her entire division for months was also a win. "That will be fine."

"I assume you have more information regarding the location and security details of the relay in question?" 

"Yes, I do," she assured him as she passed over the datapad with the requested intel. "How much do we owe you?" 

Nu, suddenly hesitant, glanced somewhat helplessly at Echo. "I was under the impression that you may be able to assist me in discovering my former identity," he said stiffly. 

"And so I can," Echo replied promptly. He had already discussed this plan with Omega, and she was happy to let him explain the details.  "A blood sample and a scan of your wrist will be a good place to start." 

Nu glanced down at his wrist. "I've run my blood sample against a few databases before, but I never considered the possibility that I would have any implanted identifiers..." he said thoughtfully. 

"We're not sure you do," Echo answered. "There were some populations pre-Empire who had identifying chips as a standard, though. Worth a shot to scan for one. Even if you have one, it might take a while for me to run it through some of the older databases." 

"Very well then. Shall I provide you with the required samples now?"

"No time like the present," Echo replied. 

Only a few minutes later, Omega found herself following Echo back to his ship. Nu had indeed been implanted with an identifying chip, though it would take Echo some time to access the old clone databases and run the chip data against the entries. Her brother strode along as calm and confident as ever; she, on the other hand, was caught in an excruciatingly uncertain limbo between hope and despair, and it was leaving her feeling drained. 

"Echo, what if it isn't him? And what if it is? He didn't even recognize us at all," she blurted, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice. 

Echo paused in the middle of the deserted path leading to the outskirts of the village, turning to look at her. "Steady, Omega. One step at a time. We need to verify his identity first. No point focusing on what ifs."

Echo was so much like Tech in this regard: taking everything in stride, adapting so readily to any and all surprises, and so rarely getting flustered. She admired this about him, especially since she didn't fully understand how he managed it. 

"How can you take this all so calmly?" she sighed. 

Echo paused, considering her question. "Because whatever the results of these tests, we're going to have our work cut out for us later to help him," he replied, before resuming the trek back to the ship. 

****

Omega hadn't been planning on returning to Nu's until tomorrow - he had said he would need at least a day to complete the job, after all, and she didn't want to bother him - but after several hours of fruitless waiting on Echo's ship, then trying unsuccessfully to catch a nap on her own ship, followed up by some time wandering aimlessly around the tiny village and smiling back at the curious and overall friendly residents, she found herself walking through the threshold of the little shop again and looking around for the owner, stepping to the side to dodge a young boy exiting the cabin holding what appeared to be a power coil for a stove. 

She spied Nu seated at the corner of one of the long workbenches, various apparatus having been pushed to the side to give him room for his current project. Omega saw her datapad was connected to two other pieces of equipment she didn't know the names for as Nu studied another screen, occasionally tapping on a second datapad. 

Nu didn't look up, but he must have noticed her, for he now spoke. "I take it you have memorized the layout of the settlement? Hedi was telling me just now that you made no fewer than three full circuits of the village."

Omega chuckled a little self-consciously. "I think it might have been five. Your village is rather... small, and there's not much else for me to do right now."

Now he looked up, considering her for a moment before saying, "This job will be completed sooner if you feel inclined to assist. It will also help pass the time for you."

She hadn't been expecting this, but she needed no further invitation. Pulling a stool up to the workbench, she sat and faced him. "How can I help?"

Nu slid several tools and a small rectangular gadget towards her. "This adapter needs rewiring to be compatible with the computer model you specified you will be using to upload the spike. Do you know how to do that?"

She picked up the adapter and examined it for a moment before nodding. "Yes."

"Good," and with that, Nu returned to his work. 

She set to work herself, while thinking back to the countless times before when she had helped Tech with his projects...

This was so similar, yet so different. Tech, prone to being equally absorbed in his work, had still passed the time they spent working together fielding Omega's sundry questions and keeping up a steady conversation with her. Nu, on the other hand, was so quiet, hadn't yet shown any hint of Tech's quick wit and sardonic humor and tendency for banter, and was somehow intently focused on his work while simultaneously distracted. He seemed... lost.

Nu was so much like Tech, yet not quite Tech... He couldn't be, he didn't remember any of Tech's life - or at least, as he had told Echo, the very little he did remember made no sense to him.

She didn't want to interrupt him, but she couldn't help speaking.

"Echo says you lost your memories."

"Yes, I had assumed he told you."

"You... You had no idea who you were when you woke up from your accident?"

"Well, I intuitively had a general idea of my identity as an adult human male, and I knew how to talk and perform basic mobility functions, but I had no recollection of my name or family or skill set or previous life. My general knowledge of facts about the galaxy returned with very little prompting, and skills such as these" - gesturing vaguely around the room - "seemed to come naturally to me. I assume I acquired them before I was injured."

"But... No idea of your name? Your home? Your... Your family?" 

"No."

Something seemed to shift in him with this admission, the sense of loss becoming almost tangible, and Omega's heart nearly burst with sympathy. Whether he was actually Tech or not, Nu had somehow managed to regain so much of himself, but it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 

"You don't just want to know your former identity. You really want your old memories back, don't you?" 

Nu paused but kept his eyes fixed on his work as he replied slowly, carefully considering his words, "I am who I am. Recalling my previous name or place of birth or prior occupations will be welcome knowledge - it will be a relief to no longer be ignorant of such an extended period of my own life. But that knowledge likely won't change my nature or who I have grown to be. However, there were people in my old life who were important to me - of that I am certain. Above all else, I want to remember them. I want to discover if they are alive and well now. The tribe on Eriadu cared for me, the people here on Tintha are welcoming; but what family I may have had, I want to know them."

She looked away to hide the tear that escaped down her cheek, but she needn't have worried: Nu didn't look up. Taking a few moments to steady her voice, she finally said, "Well, we'll find out who you are, and then you'll be able to find your family. I'm sure of it."

Shaken out of his reverie, Nu straightened and refocused his attention on the apparatus in front of him. "You're an optimist, then," he observed mildly. 

Omega couldn't help but grin. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Well, let us hope your optimism proves to be reality."

She smiled somewhat sadly now as she turned back to the adapter. 

Indeed, all they could do was hope. 

****

The results left no room for doubt: both the blood tests and the chip scan matched the identity of one particular clone. 

"Oh Force, it's him, it's really him," Omega breathed - and suddenly the dam burst.

She was weeping, sobbing so hard she could barely catch her breath, as the flood of emotions - ecstatic joy and fully realized hope and the relief of certainty, mingled with sorrow and regret for lost time - filled her to capacity and overflowed. 

Tech was alive. Her brother was alive! And, all things considered, he was relatively well, and had managed to recover enough to build a life for himself. This was nothing short of a miracle. 

 But... he had been lost for years. He was respected here and had some caring neighbors - of course he did - but no family. And despite the life he had built, he had clearly struggled with the knowledge that there was so much he didn't remember - so many people he didn't remember. 

And while she and Echo knew who he was, there was no guarantee this information would help Tech remember who he was and who had been important to him. 

Forcing the flood of tears to subside with no small amount of effort, she managed to speak again. “We found him. He lived, and in this whole wide galaxy, we found him. It’s… it’s a miracle.” She actually chuckled a little. “When we help Tech get his memories back, I’m going to ask him to calculate the odds of this happening. Well, what do we…” The question died on her lips as she turned to Echo and saw the stricken look of remorse on her brother's face. 

"Echo, what's wrong?" Why wasn’t he happy about this? He set his expression back into its usual stoic lines. "Nothing." 

"Yeah, that’s a lie."

He shook his head. "Really it’s nothing. I'm fine."

She fixed him with a stern look. "Echo, you trusted me enough to invite me to join the Rebellion. You can tell me about this. What's wrong?”

He gave her a small smile, which softened his features just enough that she decided to stop pushing him. “Nothing is wrong. Tech is alive – this is impossibly good news.” He sighed. "Now we just have to figure out how to break this news to him.”

Omega shook her head slowly - it didn't feel right to just walk in to the shop and tell Nu that he was a deviant Fett clone named Tech.  "He doesn't just want to know facts about himself. He wants to remember his family."

"It's like you said, Omega: he didn't recognize either of us."

"Well, we have changed a bit since he last saw us," she pointed out, willing herself to ignore the painful clenching in her gut that always accompanied the memory of Tech falling out of sight...

"Hmmm..." Echo rubbed his chin in thought. "Do you still have Tech's old goggles with you?"

"Of course," she said promptly. "They're in my ship, right on the piloting console. What do you have in mind?"

"If the goggles themselves aren't enough to jog his memory, ask him to help you recover the recorded data.”

She frowned. "But I already recovered... Ohhh!" she broke off, grinning as understanding dawned. "Echo, you're brilliant!"

"Well...."

"Give me a minute," she said, already picking up the devices Nu - Tech - had given her and making her way toward the ramp. "I need to ask Anton to come here to pick up the materials for the communications tap, and tell my commander I'll be on leave for a while." 

"Won't your division need your help with the mission?" She could hear the frown in Echo's voice, and turned back around to face him while walking backwards off the ship. 

"This was the hard part," she countered, waving the gadgets at him. "If they need my help to install this program from the safety of our own base, we're in a lot more trouble than I ever thought. I'll be right back, don't go to Tech's without me!" And with that, she ran off. 

****

Echo, sitting on the narrow wooden bench set along the wall and watching Omega and Tech pull up more recordings on the holoprojector, marveled at events of the past few hours. 

Somehow, the goggle suggestion had worked. Just seeing the old Clone Force 99 picture had been enough to help Tech recognize Omega, and this had been enough to open the floodgates to memories of his life before the catastrophe on Eriadu. One would think this would be overwhelming, but Tech had taken it all in stride. 

Then again, this was Tech. Of course he had taken it all in stride. 

Tech had asked about Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, Rex, Phee, Shep, Lyana, and a few others from Pabu; beyond revealing the basics regarding Crosshair's return to the family and reassuring him that everyone was safe, however, Omega had opted against inundating Tech with more details. "Let's focus on you getting your old memories back before we fill you in on the last decade," she had said; and when Echo had agreed with her, Tech hadn't argued further.

Echo now saw Omega stifling a yawn, and he leaned forward. "Omega, we've been at this for hours, and I don't think you've slept in days. Go get some rest." 

Omega shook her head stubbornly, with an expression that highlighted her resemblance to her equally stubborn brothers. "I don't need..."

"Perhaps it would be best for me to take a brief respite, too," Tech put in mildly. 

She sighed, relenting reluctantly. "Fine." 

"There are some cushions and blankets in the other room," Tech continued. "You can rest there, if you decide against returning to your ship." 

"I'll do that," she smiled brightly. "Thank you, Tech!" And she bid them good night, leaving her brothers sitting in pensive quiet. 

Tech was the first to break the silence.  

"Did you and Omega join the Rebellion at the same time?" 

Echo shook his head. "No. I worked with a rebel cell for several years before mentioning to Omega that the Alliance needed pilots. Hunter might forgive me for that, someday," he finished gruffly. 

Given Tech's small smile, Echo guessed he remembered how protective Hunter had always been of their sister, and was perhaps relieved to know that some things hadn't changed. 

"Given what Omega said about your success on Tantiss, I assume you were also involved in the events that have become known as the clone rebellion,'" Tech said now. 

Echo raised a brow. "How did you...?"

"Tintha may be sparsely populated and well outside the notice of the Empire, but we are not entirely cut off from news of happenings in the wider galaxy," Tech responded dryly, to which Echo chuckled. "Was Rex part of that uprising, too?" 

Echo nodded, but somehow the mention of Rex and the clone rebellion brought to the surface the needling remorse he had tried to hide from Omega, and he found that he couldn't speak as several seemingly unrelated events coalesced in his mind. 

Rex and Tech had been the ones to free Echo from his captivity, the first friendly faces Echo had seen upon being released from cryostasis. Tech had been the one to take the lead in convincing Hunter to allow the squad to join Echo in infiltrating Eriadu to find Hemlock's base, arguing that they didn't leave their own behind. The lesson Echo’s original squad had learned as cadets, never leave anyone behind, had become an integral part of him; and his drive to do more, to help all his clone brothers as much as he could, had led him to not only free the prisoners on Tantiss, not only help Rex save those they could from being trapped in service to the Empire, but also be a key driver in the push for clone rights that had led to a full-scale uprising. 

He had done all of this for his brothers; and all the while Tech had been abandoned, left behind to recover as much as he could from a fall that had stolen his memories, left behind to fend for himself, all alone with no familiar face, no one to help remind him of who he had once been.

Echo knew his guilt was unreasonable, his shame misplaced, knew he wasn’t to blame for Tech’s loss, knew no one in the family was to blame for Tech’s loss. And yet… when Tech had fallen, they had left, they had all assumed the worst and Echo had recognized the futility of going back later to check and therefore had said nothing of it, and then they had taken Hemlock’s word for it – Hemlock, a man who had every reason to lie to them – they had just accepted his proof, no questions asked.

He knew that if he had shared these feelings with Omega, she would have pointed out that he had never and would never hold Rex culpable for assuming he was dead and moving on, especially in the middle of a combat zone; and she would have been right, which is why he hadn’t bothered telling her. Before now, he had never understood why Rex had felt any measure of guilt over Echo’s captivity – after all, it wasn’t his brothers’ fault for concluding he had died in an explosion that definitely should have killed him, and as soldiers they knew how to honor the dead while moving forward.

But all these truths were not enough for Echo to rid himself of the guilt he now felt for all Tech had suffered. 

"Tech, I'm sorry." 

His brother looked nonplussed. "For what?" 

"For leaving you behind." 

Tech blinked. "I expected nothing else." Realizing, likely from Echo being unable to hide a wince, that this remark hadn't been reassuring, Tech sighed and continued on in the tone he had always used when he was explaining something he thought should be obvious: "I fell and took the rail car with me so you all could live and escape, not so you could be captured trying to retrieve my remains." 

Echo gave an involuntary shudder. "You... you really expected to die?"

"I knew it was the most likely outcome. The fact that I did survive would seem to indicate that at least one of several plans I had devised in an effort to escape the inevitable proved successful. I cannot recall what the plan was, but... perhaps that is for the best." He was quiet for a moment before regarding Echo again. "You did what I wanted you to do, Echo. You lived. You helped the others live. You ensured the risk I took was worth it. If you hadn't escaped... well, it's quite possible we wouldn't be here, together, right now."   

The ghost of a smile crossed Echo's face. "Omega said she'd be asking you to calculate the odds of you surviving and us finding you." 

"That's easy," Tech instantly replied. "Approaching infinity to one, against." 

"I guess she's right in calling this a miracle." 

"I would consider that an apt description," Tech nodded solemnly. He briefly fell silent again, before adding, "Though, considering what happened on Skako Minor, I would term it a coincidence - an unlikely one, but a coincidence nonetheless - that you in particular are the one who found me."

This observation – two clones, both presumed dead, both inexplicably surviving, each playing a significant role in finding and rescuing the other – left Echo stunned, and he was silent for some time as Tech returned his attention to the holoprojector. 

Echo had once heard a Jedi say, "The Force works in mysterious ways, far beyond our ability to comprehend." Echo wasn't sure any Force was actually at work here, but he did know many occurrences in his life were far beyond his ability to comprehend, and this was one of them. 

However, regardless of how circumstances had aligned this way, he found that he was grateful. Grateful that Tech had given them the chance to live, that his sacrifice hadn't been in vain. Grateful that Tech himself had survived the fall. Grateful that others - strangers - had cared for his brother enough to allow him to recover and thrive. Grateful that he, Echo, had come to Tintha to seek the services of a relatively unknown yet respected engineer. Grateful that he had heeded the feeling to probe for answers rather than convincing himself to stay silent. Grateful that Tech had wanted to remember, and now remembered. Grateful that Tech still loved them. Grateful to have Tech as his brother. 

And with so much to be grateful for, he found there was very little room left for guilt. 

Tech had been found, and he wouldn't be left behind again. 

****

Echo had joined Omega in the other room to rest several hours ago, but Tech was still wide awake. He had long since stopped going through his own old recordings, though, opting instead to take some time to sit with the recollections he had regained thus far. 

They hadn't all returned yet, but the flashes of memories he had had before, suddenly given context, now made sense, were recognizable; and the more he sat in thought, the more the details of the memories became clear and connected to other threads of memories that began to expand in their turn, bringing with them the meaning and purpose and need to know that he had been seeking for so long.  

Memories, his memories, filling with light and blazing color a space in his mind that had been achingly dark for some time, filling with warmth and comfortable serenity a void in his heart that had belonged to those loved ones whose names and faces he had forgotten but now remembered with blessed clarity. 

What's more, those loved ones still lived. He had calculated correctly; his gamble had paid off. 

He had told Omega that knowing his name wouldn't change his nature, and he had been right. Knowing now who he had been before, he recognized that over the years since Eriadu he had somehow managed to reclaim himself, much more successfully than he might have ever hoped; on a fundamental level, he had always been himself. But hearing his name, Tech, spoken by one of those individuals whose kinship and familial love he had held most dear - not only had this been the spark that reignited his old memories, it had indeed wrought a significant change in him.

For the first time since he had woken on Eriadu, he felt whole. 

[vickyyoon]

Stepbro Han profile (hcs)

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C/w: stepcest, smut, sub!Han, dom!fem!reader ( and just pure filth)

Paring : stepbro!Han x fem!reader

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Step bro han

He was your elder step brother, he loves you and adores you alot as an elder brother but compared to his age he was pretty dumb, naive and such a people pleaser.

He was pretty popular at school, everyone's attention would be drawn to him because of how pretty he was and how talented he was as well but he would always turn this attention to you jk matter what, he loved to show you off.

He took you in dates and happily let you join his friends on hangouts but things only started to change when you notice how he was really under your fingers without your complete control

One night you caught him with your underwear in his room just sniffing it, you couldn't help but smirk because you too had feelings for him and thought his was straight up disgusting but he wasn't really your brother was he?

Ever since then you used him to your advantage.

" what? do you not care about your little sister? I thought you loved me?" you pouted his jaw was aching from eating you out from the past few hours.

" ofcourse I do but what if mom and dad finds us?" he asked you.

" Don't worry about them, they're not coming back until tommorow night." you smirked down on him.

Type

He was almost submissive all the time maybe it was just for you though. Acting so cute whenever youre disappointed or begging almost all the time when it's just the two of you.

He always likes to please you because you give him compliments and praises afterwards, he puts your needs first and would drop everything to come to your need, I mean anything.

Like one time he was in the kitchen helping your mom when you got extremely horny, just by one call he left your mom with all the work in the kitchen kind of surprising her.

He will do anything for you, he'll spend money on whatever you want from him, he loves giving you gifts as well, to you he was the best elder brother you could ever ask for.

He gets pretty sad when you talk or get too close to another guy and you'll probably have to ride him afterwards to make him understand and feel better.

He is shameless around you, if you put a collar on him, he'll gladly accept it, if you ask him to bark he'll do it (no joke 💀) but anything to make you happy <3

" I said keep quiet! Or I'll absolutely stop right here and now!" you whispered into his ear.

You were in the back seat of your parents car while they were driving, your hand wrapped around his aching dick under that blanket on his lap.

" No please! I won't I promise."

Distance

He was going to college very soon ND since his college is quiet far he has to live in a near by hostel which meant diatancing for you two.

But he still manages to make time out of his hectic days to call you and always visits you during his weekends sacrificing his hangouts with his friends, because his friends might leave him but you won't, you're his little sister.

He'll always be sure to satisfy your needs when he's back home and spends more time on you than anyone else in the house. He gets very clingy and can't help but sometimes touch you while at dinner

He really misses you alot, not seeing your face twice a day will kill him instantly most of the times you've forced yourself on him but after reaching college he starts to grow alot on you.

He won't let you go out of his sight and gets much more possessive, he takes a hold of your socials and often checks what you like or post. Though he knows you won't date any one but he still makes sure to scare your male friends so that they won't even try to get you.

" it's not fair! It's just a picture of me and my friendy at the beach!" you argued but he wasn't having it.

" you look so naked in that photo, your boy friends will see it!" he said again and again.

And by the time you knew it you were straddling on his lap trying to calm him down.

" they won't lay a finger on me, trust me." you kissed his forehead as he looked at you with tear filled eyes trying to understand you.

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[nervousladytraveler]

Smutty one-liners:

“Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.” 🙈

Ah @veryflowerobservation my dear friend, you probably thought I'd forgotten this (but like Ross, I forget nothing). I do apologize for the delay. Untitled, but on the theme of quick learners, this is roughly from The Shift universe (but only barely).

---

Ross squinted into the sun as Demelza, dripping and shimmering, emerged from the sea. 

Aphrodite, subtle of soul and deathless,

Daughter of God, weaver of wiles, I pray thee

Neither with care, dread Mistress, nor with anguish,

            Slay thou my spirit!

“Ha!” Demelza cried. “The water is brilliant!”

“Is it then?” Ross managed to reply. He suddenly felt as though he’d never really seen her before.

Where had those lines even come from? Classic verse forced upon him in school stored out of reach--In the head? In the heart?--until such moments when it could be properly applied. 

Yes, Demelza was something like a proper goddess, wasn’t she? Although less ruthless than Aphrodite and hopefully less vengeful as well. Perhaps there was some other mythological being who controlled the tides and men’s hearts in equal measure.

Her face was serene--muscles relaxed, eyes fixed forward in a soft focus. Eyes the same blue-green as the sea. Her usually spirited curls had temporarily been pulled straight by the water but a single jerk of her head put things right. She strode slowly and purposefully forward as though she belonged there, on that beach. And always had.

Demelza was good that way. A quick learner but also someone who’d early on come to understand--as a means of survival--that people had a tendency to take you at your own valuation so poise, or faking it, could carry you quite far.

Ross admired her for this. He knew that In fact, she’d come rather late to swimming altogether. While so many Cornish natives claim to have the sea in their blood, Demelza’s upbringing in Illogan had been a somewhat landlocked one. 

“First time I ever swam wasn’t by choice,” she’d once explained. “At my mate Tamsin’s 14th, her brother threw me into the pool--he was having a laugh and didn't mean any harm--but I figured I'd better sort it out or drown then and there.”

“I'm quite glad for your sake that you’re a quick learner,” Ross had replied.

“Oh no, it wasn't for my sake at all. It just didn't seem fair to ruin Tam’s party since she was having a rough go anyway. Her parents had just split and her dad was living at a hotel for the time being--which is why there was even a pool. Maybe your set had pools of their own but mine most certainly did not.”

“No, not my friends. Francis, my late cousin--he went to pool parties quite regularly as a teen but I just swam here at the beach with the village kids,” Ross had explained. One wouldn't suspect now that Demelza hadn’t been one of those village kids, let loose on the strand as soon as they could walk. 

She was a quick learner.

In the few years that he’d known her, he’d watched her quietly and casually collect new skills time and again, often to his benefit. On her first attempt at making a pie, she’d gotten it nearly right--but the second time, she’d absolutely nailed it. Since then, without any great fuss, she did most of the baking for the cafe. 

Of course, recently there was another domain where Demelza had honed new abilities. When they first slept together, she’d openly admitted to not having much prior experience but her sharp instincts--and eagerness to practise had taken her far.

Now, five weeks into their romance, there were times he felt she was the master and he the apprentice. She certainly had bolder inclinations than Ross did when it came to where they made love. The cafe storage room was an early favourite, as was his car after hours. On those rare occasions when she mustered enough patience til they got to his, even before they made their way to the bedroom, she often first required a dalliance in the kitchen, the sitting room, or on the hall stairs.

Today had been no exception. Before they’d had their swim, they’d been exploring one of the many caves carved in the rockface long ago. 

“Come, Ross…” Two words but he knew what she meant.

“Demelza,” he’d said weakly as she deftly undid the front of his swim shorts. 

“No one is here,” she’d assured him. “Just a few odd gulls.”

“But your knees…the rocks are so sharp…” 

Her fingers were cool but her mouth was smooth and warm and he quickly forgot his objections. Their exclamations no matter how quiet and muffled they aimed to be, still echoed in the empty darkness, and afterwards they stood breathless for what seemed like hours, until they made their way back out into the warm sunshine.

She’d stayed in to swim longer than he had. Content, in more ways than one, he sat on the soft sand and watched while her body glided through both air and water. Around them all was dazzled by that particular light only found by the sea in summer.

Dipping vibrant wings down the azure distance, through the mid- ether…

“Right ho! Hullo!” An unfamiliar--and unwelcome--voice now called down the beach from the north.

Ross pulled his gaze away from his beloved damsel emerging from her seashell and saw the Reverend Mister Odgers walking towards them. A wet black dog ran circles at his heels.

“Good day to you, sir,” Demelza returned the salute with a wave. She was wiping herself off using Ross’s shirt--they’d forgotten to bring towels--and though still clad in only her swimsuit, she’d suddenly transformed herself into the model of demure respectability.

“I say,” Odgers went on after a cursory nod to Ross. “Have you seen a dog round here?”

“You mean that one?” Ross asked sarcastically. He would have been considered the one with the ill manners had the beast not taken that very moment to shake his wet fur in Ross’s general direction.

“No, not our Daniel. Another one--a buff sort of colour, quite a bit like sand!” The man laughed and tugged irritatingly at his collar.

Like sand? That’s fucking helpful at a beach. Ross let out an exhale and grit his teeth, resenting that his intimate moment had so abruptly been intruded upon--and by a pompous man of god, no less.  

“Oh?” Demelza immediately began to scan the horizon. With hand raised shading her eyes, her present posture seemed to accentuate her lovely bust line. Then she licked her lip, presumably to taste the salt from the sea, but it reminded Ross how she’s done the same thing earlier in the cave to signal a job well done. This did little to assuage Ross’s annoyance.

“He couldn't have gone far…” Odgers fretted.

“Oh there he is!” Demelza laughed and pointed to a very small creature, barely noticeable amongst the sharp dune grass behind them. 

“Mufasa! Come, boy!” Odgers pleaded but the dog in question lifted his hind leg in defiance, ignoring his master’s calls. The man took a few steps and the little devil immediately scurried off in the opposite direction.

“Oh dear!” Odgers began to run in an inefficient arc to catch the errant Mufasa. The black spaniel barked great editorials at his heels then abandoned the scene entirely to chase a gull at the water’s edge. “Thank you, miss--and God bless!” Odgers called over his shoulder to Demelza, failing to acknowledge Ross was also present.

“Good lord!” Demelza laughed and took Ross’s hand in hers.

“The man's a fool,” Ross grumbled.

“In more ways than one.” She wove his fingers through hers, then raised their joined hand to admire her work. “First of all, Daniel? Daniel, the spaniel?” She rolled her eyes playfully and Ross found himself smiling. “And the other one? Oh you didn't catch it? No, you wouldn’t, would you. Our dear Reverend Mister Odgers thinks he’s so very clever. Mufasa is a lion from The Lion King. So Daniel and the…?” She danced on one foot waiting for Ross to catch the vicar’s Old Testament joke.

“Is that what passes for humour at the vicarage these days? Or for dog training?” Ross was someone who tended to like dogs but the Odgers pack had gotten under his skin.

“I think the small one is what’s known as a Chiweenie--dachshund and chihuahua mix.”

“Well, the man’s giving him exactly what he wants. A game of chase.”

“Then we should admire the little fella for being such a quick learner,” she said, then read his mood and softened her tone. “Oh Ross, forget Odgers. He’s long gone now. It's just us and the gulls again.”

“Yes, of course,” Ross said and watched her lick her salty lips again. 

Come to me now thus, Goddess, and release me

From distress and pain…

“Demelza,” he teased, ”Tell me, when did you get so friendly with clergymen? Is this one of your newly learned devices?”

“Are you suggesting that somehow I shouldn’t be polite to him of all people? That I should quiver in his very reverent presence--and that of his sacred dogs?” She dropped his hand in mock alarm and raised a brow. Then she smiled to show she was teasing back. “Truly, Ross, I was no more neighbourly to Odgers than I would be to any other passersby,” she added. 

Still, she’d managed the scene so well. And once again Ross was impressed at her poise, her own valuation of herself--and her deceit.

“Demelza,” he laughed. “You may very well act innocent but we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

“Hmmn…” She played along. “I seem to recall something vaguely entertaining occurred between us this afternoon but that was far more than two minutes ago. In fact, it has already faded from my mind. Or maybe it just wasn't so memorable?”

“Oh, you are a little devil,” he said and pulled her close for a kiss. “Perhaps you need a fresh lesson to remind you.”

“Yes, Ross,” she said, “Perhaps I do.”

----

Notes: Verse Ross quotes come from Sappho’s “Ode to Aphrodite”. Read it here.  Do I think Ross would have read A level Classics and Sappho at school? No, I do not. But I liked the poem so let's just tuck that away under “artistic licence.” Also, line borrowed from Demelza’s first Trenwith Christmas visit in Ross Poldark: A Novel of Cornwall: “But she was learning fast that people, even well-bred people like those, had a surprising tendency to take you at your own valuation.”

[daydreamingqueen1]

People watching

Pairing: Jily/Jegulily (James x Regulus x Lily)

Content/ Warnings: mentions of self hatred, PINNING, fluffy really

Summary: Reggie watches James ask Lily out yet again.

Word count: 1.0k

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When you hate yourself, watching everybody else's life becomes a great way to pass the time.

Regulus hates himself. He could get into great detail as to why, but that would involve acknowledging his existence, which right now he is trying to avoid. In addition to this, his favorite novel is starting.

He makes himself as small and insignificant as possible, an old art he has perfected as the youngest son to the noble house of Black. A big book and a corner in the library are usually a good way to archive that.

James Potter has just walked into the library. His self confidence and petulant optimism give him a strut that Regulus hates with the same passion he that he loves.

Lily Evans has been studying by herself next to the big window for an hour now. Regulus knows that. But James is discovering it just now.

A slight smirk forms in Regulus's face; the show is about to get interesting.

"Evans!" An overly excited James exclaims, pleasantly surprised at spotting her.

Three things happen at the same time.

"Shh!" Madam Pince utters with a certainly terrifying look.

"Ugh," Lily groans into her lecture notes.

James trips.

Oh, Regulus loves this.

The boy wonder regains his footing with only a small blush and a big ego bruise, "Sorry," he mutters and but not even his charming smile has much of an effect on Madam Pince's permanent scowl.

Delayed but not deterred, James makes his way to Lily's spot. She is, to be fair, containing her laughter pretty well if it wasn't for the slight crinkle on the side of her eyes. Regulus has come to search for it over time.

"Hey," James leans his weight into his hand that he carefully positions next to her things. To the simple eye, it might look like an effortless pose, but if people cared to observe, then they'll notice how he is absolutely forcing it in an attempt to not seem nervous, which he, in fact, is.

Lily stares back at him, half amused and half annoyed. The usual dichotomy that writes onto her face and brain when it comes to James Potter. "Hey."

What is only a polite acknowledgment of existence is quickly taken as an invitation to intrude, for James smiles brightly and sits next to her. "History of magic essay?" The question is redundant, the whole spread of Lily's notes is covered in the long scribbles that you can only get from the tedious lectures on the Goblin's war.

Regulus watches James left foot tapping incessantly, he is definitely nervous. The question now is why. There's more to it than his usual giddiness around his crush Lily.

The young witch nods, a traitorous fond tilt of her lips betrays her overall look of annoyance, "Yes, Potter, why do you care?"

James startles at that, it seems like his planning had only reached that far.

"Um, well, I was just… uh... I need help with it!" he stammers.

"Really, Potter?" Lily arches her eyebrow, her arm resting bored over her notebook. "Which part?" She challenges him.

James blinks blankly for a few seconds, "That's the thing, uh, I haven't started it yet."

Idiot.

Regulus admires them from behind his book, observing every detail as Lily finally gives in and agrees to study with James. He takes in everything: The subtle glances and accidental brushes of their hands; the way Lily's lips curl slightly, betraying a certain fondness despite her chastising every time James attempts to distract her; how James eyes glint underneath his glasses, looking at her as if she's the most beautiful thing in the world.

A sigh escapes his lips involuntarily, he longed to be them. Shed out his skin and exist in the middle of their mutual pull.

James's hand trembles slightly as he pulls something small from his back pocket. Regulus can't make out what it is, his body leaning forward discreetly.

"Uh, Lily?" James clears his throat nervously, sliding the thing closer to her as she looks up from her parchment. "It 's for you..."

And with that he points his wand and mumbles a quiet 'Engorgio' making it grow into a beautiful white rose.

Oh...

Regulus had been wrong. James hadn't entered the library casually.

Huh, that explains the nerves. He wonders how Lily's going to react.

The Gryffindor girl stares down at the rose on the table, blinking at it like it will suddenly explode or something. Regulus thinks that with James’s record you never know but it's not probable that he'd do that to his precious Lily.

The boy shifts on his seat, fixing his glasses nervously as he waits for some kind of response. As ever, James Potter isn't the patient kind. He starts rambling.

Sweet heavens.

"I saw it on the edge of the Forbidden Forest and– Well, I thought that it sort of reminds me of you, you know? Lily, flowers, a rose." James chuckles awkwardly, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck, regretting exposing his dumb trail of thought.

"I know you have made yourself clear— very clear, indeed— but I still wanted to give you this and ask you one last time."

Gently, he nudges the offending flower closer to the yet unreadable girl. "If you say no, again, I won't bother you anymore... I just wanted to try one last time, for good measure," he takes a deep breath, looking at her vulnerably as he asks in an uncharacteristically soft voice,"So, Lily, would you go out with me, just once?"

Regulus spares him an empathetic smile. Here we go again. Another Lily rejection.

Something flickers in her, the green of her eyes glimmering in a way that makes even Regulus hold out his breath.

"Okay." Lily sighs.

Now it's time for James to blink bewildered, "...What?"

"I said okay," Lily repeats like she hasn't just turned James' world upside down, "Saturday. The Three broomsticks. Five o clock."

She picks up her notes and stuffs them inside her bag before standing up, her long fiery hair swaying magnificently as she grants him one last look. "See you, Potter."

And with that she passes right next to Regulus as she swiftly exits the library, leaving both him and James shocked with the sudden turn of events.

Regulus loves his novel.

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♡, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

probably gonna make a few more parts of this, I have so many ideas for the jegulily beginnings

masterlist

[shy-urban-hobbit]

The first thing that Aiden was aware of was that he was no longer lying on the hard ground (although the matress he was currently on wasn't much of an upgrade). The second thing was that he was alone if the lack of any additional heartbeats was an indication. He took a moment to catalogue the various aches and pains whilst wishing painful and embarassing venereal diseases on any and all Mages.

It wasn't bad enough that they'd walked straight into a trap (although to be fair this one was using children as bait, what else could they do?). Oh no, he'd decided to do the whole 'one of you drink from the mystery chalice and I'll let the other one go' thing, not even trying to disguise its contents. Aiden hadn't thought twice about knocking it back before the Mage had even finished monologuing, shooting a smirk at Lambert before collapsing to the ground in pain as his guts tried to claw their way out of his body.

Speaking of, the door opening accompanied by Lambert's unique scent informed him that his fellow Witcher had returned. Aiden started counting down from five in his head, knowing that his heart rate would give away the fact that he was awake, even if he wanted to avoid opening his eyes for a little longer. He got to three before he felt a fist clench in the front of his shirt, pulling him upwards and into a solid chest.

"You fucking twat!"

Aiden winced, "Indoor voice please, Love." He said hoarsly, burying his nose in Lambert's collar bone, "Loud noise bad right now."

Lambert adjusted his hold so he was now cradling Aiden against his chest, "You stupid fucking Cat." He whispered, "What were you thinking?"

"That I'd rather chug poison than carry on listening to that arsehole."

"I'm serious, Aiden." Lambert tightened his hold, "I had to watch you basically commit suicide and fucking smile about it?!" His voice was getting louder again, but he was too angry to care, "You absolute prick! I had to watch you writhing on the floor in agony whilst I tried to force an antidote into you which I wasn't even sure would work, and then I had to practically sprint back to the inn with you, praying the entire fucking time that I wouldn't have to listen to your heart stop. I was...you..."

Aiden felt guilt start to gnaw at him. Lambert didn't need to say any more for Aiden to know he'd scared him, and scared him badly.

"I'm sorry Lam." He reached up to run fingers through his Wolf's hair, purring low in his chest in an attempt to both comfort and self soothe. Lambert allowed the gesture withought complaint.

"I know this doesn't make it right but, for what it's worth, I was never going to die."

Lambert snorted, "Don't talk shit. We could both smell what was in it. That stuff's fatal when combined with mutagens."

"When combined with wolf mutagens."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"The initial reaction is the same but, for Cat Witchers," Aiden shrugged, "After that wears off. For us, it just feels like a really bad White Gull hangover. On that note."

Aiden pulled back and proceeded to puke on the floor, luckily avoiding Lambert's boot.

"You deserve that." Lambert said dryly, wiping Aiden's mouth with his sleeve.

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"For not telling me that sooner, scaring me half to death or puking on the floor of the room we're sharing?"

"All three. I swear I would've told you about the poison thing if I'd had the chance. Only there wasn't a lot of time between downing it and, you know..."

Lambert couldn't smell any trace of a lie through the guilt and misery.

"As soon as you're well you're giving me a fucking crash course in Cat mutagens." He said, moving to lie on the bed and pulling Aiden on top of him., "You're also cleaning that by the way." He gestured with his head to the puddle of vomit.

"Be nice to me, I'm sick!"

[charlie-jelly]

i am loco anyway newt x he/him reader

fair warning, this is extremely out of character and badly written </3

Not at all unusually, (y/n) couldn't sleep.

He'd love to be able to chalk it up to nerves over the very pretty boy lying next to him, but around 3-4 hours of bored insomnia a night was typical for him. Not that Newton was settling his mind in any way.

Around 30 minutes ago, (y/n) had been strolling around familiar areas of the Shatterdome at a rather abhorrent hour beyond midnight, waiting to feel tired enough to go to bed. He'd felt fairly comfortable in his daggy night clothes (barefoot with an ugly nighting gown and a band t-shirt thrown over for no reason other than he found it funny), until he heard someone else clunkering around in the private lab he had just waltzed into far too confidently. It was the shared lab of doctors Hermann Gottlieb (currently at rest) and Newton Geiszler (currently looking up from his clunkering right up at (y/n)'s horrified face). Newton was in the dark sitting on his knees by a table of blue intestines, unidentifiable hunks of metal and apparatus filling both his hands and the space on the floor around him. Being that the boy was far away from the doorway where (y/n) stood, and in the dark, Newton's face could only just be made out.

At times unlike this, (y/n) liked to imagine they'd had a water-cooler-romance thing going on with their flirty hallway chats. Now, confronting the man's bloodshot eyes at night with no-one else around, the rosy relationship which he had been mentally blooming in the ample space left between now and their last interaction wilted. Newton suddenly seemed much more like a stranger in that moment. He tilted his barely-visible head.

"(y/n)?"

(y/n) gathered himself to respond, generating his best impression of a biting remark to drown out his anxiety.

"It's past your bedtime, Geiszler," he said playfully, and hopefully coolly. Newt smiled gladly, breathed out some kind of dialogue-serving chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah. I've just been having this theory-- I won't overwhelm you with kaiju junk again like you've warned me about-- but basically it goes back to the dinosaurs," (y/n) felt a fond, treacherous smile tug at his lips and forced a furrow to his brow accordingly. "It's fairly accepted that they evolved into birds, right? But we established that they were also a kaiju-test run. Did that not prove to their overlords that birds are more suited to survive Earthly conditions than reptiles in general? So, why not weaponise giant birds instead? And wh-"

"Newton, that is so stupid." Newton paused in a brief moment of derailment before his eyes flicked up to the ceiling, considering quite seriously before deciding how to react to this input. (y/n) really liked that about him. He noticed now that Newt wasn't wearing his glasses.

"Eeyeah. Yeaup. Might be," He replied finally with strained voice.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed-- do you even know how late it is?" (y/n) said, striding towards Newton, who stood slowly as he did.

"No-no-no-no-no nup, you're not stopping my flow here, (y/n). I've got a flow going on, you know?" He absent-mindedly deposited one hand-full of miscellaneous metal scraps onto the table behind him, some tumbling off the heap of kaiju intestines onto the floor before he turned to face the table. "You wanna hear about what I'm building right now? I'll tell you the rest of what I was saying, I promise it makes sense just gimmie a minute,"

"It's never gonna make sense because it's stupid, Newt." Having reached him now, (y/n) grabbed Newt's wrist as it was reaching for the intestine pile, apparently planning to use it in his explanation. He placed his other hand on Newt's back, feeling warm cotton. "You need to go to bed." (y/n) pushed lightly, guiding the scientist back to the door. He was met with absolutely no resistance, despite Newt's reluctance.

"Fine, fine I'll pick it up in the morning- but I'm not going to my room, you can't make me go all the way to my room. (y/n), it's so far away. Tell me why they would assign me to a room so far from my lab. There are rooms closer-by. I could have one of those! Why can't I have one of those?" (y/n) didn't slow his lead back to the exit, but removed his hand from Newt's back.

"Well one of those closer-by rooms is mine, and I have it because my expertise are not as valuable as yours so it's no big loss if your lab explodes and kills me and some other general technicians."

"Oh. That's shit."

"Sure. Do you have any choice other than making the trek to your abode anyway?"

"Oh, yeah I was just gonna sleep in the lab. I've done it before it's all good," Newt muttered tiredly, waving a hand as if dissolving some sense of how not all-good that was wafting in the air.

"I hate repeating myself but Newton, that is so stupid. You're not sleeping in here," (y/n) tried to spit out the next sentence so as to avoid holding his breath; "And if you won't go to your own room, then you're welcome to come to mine." Newt's head whipped up to look at (y/n). Though he almost missed it in his distraction with how Newt was cutely shorter than him, the man said with relief,

"Yeah? Can I really?"

"Yes. I offered, didn't I?" (y/n) replied, trying to remain somewhat stoic despite his joy. A sleepover with his crush. He suddenly felt even worse about his pyjamas as the pair finally advanced through the door into better lighting. Without thinking, (y/n) looked down to see what Newton was wearing, seeing Newt doing the same. He awaited some questions about his outfit, but nothing came before Newt looked away.

Newt was wearing an oversized black band-tee, similar to what (y/n) had on himself. It was typical. His tattoos looked brilliant, leaping down Newts arm in sharp juxtaposition to the black sleeves they emerged from.

"Love your dress. Not many guys can rock one like that."

"Thanks."

All that brings us back to (y/n) lying restlessly next to a very pretty boy, who doesn't seem to have fallen asleep yet either.

(y/n) shifted uncomfortably, feeling his boxers sitting wrong in some way.

Despite Newton's lack of opposal to it, (y/n) had rid himself of the embarrassing nightie before he got into bed, ending up in boxers and a shirt. Boxers which were sitting wrong in some way.

He readjusted them and rolled over, huffing childishly when they still felt unpleasant. A muffled laugh sounded from the other side of the bed.

"You good there man?" Newt asked, his ever-charming smile audible.

"Yes. Cold. Scratchy." (y/n) spoke into the blankets. Actually realising how cold he was, (y/n) reluctantly made to get out of bed for a jumper, pushing some blankets off of himself. "You cold too?"

He was about to stand, and offer a jumper to Newt when a warm hand emerged from the mess of blankets and latched onto his wrist. Every single one of (y/n)'s nerves seemed to rush to that spot and fixate on the touch. (y/n) didn't feel uncomfortable or cold anymore, he only felt Newton's palm press on the flat of his wrist, and his fingers grip around it as they tugged him back down into the bed.

"Yeah. 'Mm cold." Newton shuffled to manoeuvre the heap of blankets he was under to cover (y/n) as well, and then to snake his arms around him, yawning brazenly. "J'know you're kinda pretty? But like, really pretty? You really rocked that dress man, sure, but like-- you look great normally too. Am I making sense?"

Given that this had been far too much for (y/n) to handle already, he had absolutely no way to gauge the fact that Newton had just called him pretty. Really pretty, in fact. Cleverly, (y/n) pretended to be asleep, or perhaps deaf.

"No?" Newton continued. "It doesn't matter, I dunno what I'm talking about."

"You're really pretty too. Like a lot." (y/n) said, trying to sound begrudging. If anything, he was beyond relieved to get that out. At the same time, he hoped that Newt would forget everything by the morning. Or that he was sleep-talking.

In any case, (y/n) could feel Newt crack a smile behind him-- as if it warmed the air or made Brittany Spears smile, too, somewhere.

He wriggled closer, pressing his chest flush with (y/n)'s back and sticking his hands under his shirt to wrap around his stomach.

He nestled his face into the crook of (y/n)'s shoulder, every breath seeming to be full of pure electricity as it washed over his skin.

"So pretty..."

(y/n) fell asleep easily for the first time in his life, lying wrapped in warmth and joy.

that's all, folks. sorry if it's total shit in general it really is late and i do indeed have insomnia and very uncomfy clothes plus this is the third thing i have written ever. think it ended a little abruptly but i want to go to bed so whatever. this feels soooo slow-paceddd and wayy too long and veryyy out of character but whatever it's really about his face not his character if im being honest

also idk what to tag with. help

[integra1127grimmreaper]

You'll Never Know

Prev

Ike Evans Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Warning: angst, etc.

Summary: You're forced to attend a new year's party with your husband, causing old feelings to flood back when seeing the man that broke your heart four years ago. Inspired by- Mindy McCready's - You'll Never Know.

A/N: Based off; Would you hold it against me universe. Can be read as stand-alone.

I bought a new red dress to lift my spirits up And just like you did, honey, it cost me way too much Next time you see me, I'll bet you'll take a second look You'll wonder why I look so good

You absolutely dreaded having to be at this cursed place, the place that would have been your home had life not fucked you over. What you dreaded the most though, was running into him again after all these years.

Life wasn't fair though, you learnt that the hard way. So, here you were; forced to ring-in the new year at the Miramar Playa, home to the man that broke your heart four years ago.

Why where you here though? It's quite simple; you were accompanying your husband.

You smile at your reflection in the mirror as you think of him.

Ben was a good man, a good husband and father too. You found yourself blessed to have him in your life, in your daughter's life. You had solely believed finding someone that loved you weren't in the cards for you, but then Ben came along.

Marrying Ben Diamond was the best thing, aside from having your daughter, to have happen to you. But at this instance, you might be doubting it a little.

It'll be fine. You reassure yourself while rolling your shoulders backward a few times in attempt to calm down.

The place it packed full. What are the chances of running into him?

With those words in mind, you give yourself a once-over in the mirror and head out the restroom to join the new year's celebration hosted this evening inside the walls of the Miramar.

You'll never know how much I miss you, you won't see it in my face You'll never know I'll never find another that could take your place 'Cause I'll be smiling when I see you, my tears won't ever show Yeah, I might always love you But you'll never know

*

Fate was not on your side this evening it seemed though, because when you exited the restroom, just a few feet away from you, there he stood.

He had his back toward you, but you would recognize that tall broad-shouldered form of his anywhere, anytime.

He hasn't seen you. Move before he does though!

Taking a deep breath, you take a step forward to go to your table, but you're stop instantly in your tracks when he turns around to directly face you then.

Don't acknowledge him. Don't acknowledge him. You internally remind yourself as you stared him dead in the eyes.

When I saw you out last night, you seemed so surprised That I could walk right by and not blink an eye To look at me, you probably think I'm doing fine Good thing you can't read my mind

You stare at Ike as if looking at a stranger, breaking eye contact then to stare pass him as if you're looking for someone. Panic rushes through your veins like ice water when noticing from your peripheral vision, that he was making his way towards you.

Fuck! No! Run!

You were shitting yourself as you thought of a thousand ways in which to escape from the room before he could reach you. Then as if sent by God himself; Ben entered from another direction, calling Ike's attention away from you then.

You let out a sigh of relief at your husband saving you from an extremely awkward situation, panicking just a bit still at the fact that Ben might call you over if he saw you. So, before either of them could realize; you hightailed it back to the rest to wait it out.

* You'll never know how much I miss you, you won't see it in my face You'll never know I'll never find another that could take your place 'Cause I'll be smiling when I see you, my tears won't ever show Yeah, I might always love you But you'll never know...

You sat on the luxurious sofa in the restroom, silently playing with your fingers as you waited it out to go back into party. Hearing the music from Frank Sinatra playing, you knew it was safe to head to your table.

"What took you so long, Sweetheart?" Ben enquires as he pulls out a chair for you.

"There was a long line" you answer, smiling when he presses a kiss to your cheek when seated.

Ben returns the smile, gently brushing your hair aside to press an open-mouthed kiss to your neck then.

"I missed you..."

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, turning fully towards him; you press your lips against his.

"I missed you too."

Breaking away from the kiss, Ben beams happily at you and turns back toward watching the show again.

Feeling a lot more at ease, you reach out for your wine glass and direct your attention toward the show as well, but not before your eyes land onto Ike's table that had his wife and children seated at.

He's moved on and so have you. 

Nxt

[llycaons]

ep48 (1/3): thank fucking god jc and wwx are finally talking it out

this was sweet. when does lwj ever defend someone to wwx rather than vice versa? but he dutifully reports than wen ning didn't do this happily

wwx rolling his eyes like 'oh GOD here we go again'

okay okay but I am so excited for this because I truly believe this is jc's absolutely best scene best monologue best interaction with wwx in the SHOW. finally everything coming to light! finally communication! finally a solid closure to the rage and grief that has torn them apart! but first it displays all of jc's issues and problems so so clearly

and it start off with jc bitterly praising wwx for being such a saint. which I really enjoy on a writing level, because it's very self-aware. it's easy as a reader to think that jc should bow down in gratitude, but jc as a character has a lot of pride and judges things very differently - he's a living, breathing, thinking character who has his own beliefs, principles, grudges, and motivations

I don't even know how to describe this. mocking praise? it's very characteristic of jc of this arc. sarcastic, insecure, and bitter, keenly aware of wwx's achievements and virtues and resenting him for them. idk what he wants wwx to do...obviously he's not thinking rationally but wwx can't help being good at stuff

he's making wwx entirely responsible for his feelings. not even 'you did this and I felt this way' but 'you are this way and I'm different and it's your fault that I'm not as good'

not even forgiving the debt owed from all those decades ago, even knowing the truth! he also has a big victim complex - even when wwx was being disrespected and even abused in ways jc wasn't, he still remembers it the way it'll suit his needs. no capacity to consider wwx's troubles or suffering. absolutely no emotional imagination. not that being low-empathy makes you a bad person, but the way he acted has never been part of a healthy relationship w wwx

this moment captures him SO well. while castigating wwx about jin ling, jin ling himself tries to reach out - to comfort or dissuade. and jc throws him off, impatient and angry and entirely focused on the object of his revenge rather than the living child he claims to be trying to protect, the child who's right there asking for his attention

this also feels very self-aware of the writing. almost...lampshading? not the right term. it feels fair and right that one major character close to wwx, and sympathetic despite his behavior, is holding wwx to task for this. I am obviously on wwx's side, but it makes sense than people would be upset but what happened and it feels very honest to allow jc this bitterness and anger rather than forcing everyone in the story to immediately forgive and love him. it adds texture and complexity to the characters and the world, and it makes actions like lwj's more significant. jc was never going to be the partner wwx needed, and that's extremely important to the story

another fair accusation. on the other hand it was pretty clear wwx was majorly depressed after the war and while jc might have been angry with him for drinking, he only responded with punishment instead of, idk, compassion for the other sibling who lost his entire home and family? jc didn't talk to wwx either

I read this as jc angry with himself for not being able to truly hate wwx, and blaming wwx himself for...not being hateable? it's very convoluted. jc needs so much therapy

CLOWN MOMENT

wwx touching lwj's hand to prevent him from jumping to wwx's defense, jl interpreting lwj leaning forward as him about to attack, and jc tearfully saying "I can take him!! you think I'm scared of him?" a lot going on here

oof. ough

there it is 😭 circumstances of the past aside, I'm glad they made it this point

...is that a smile? I can't even tell I swear

and NOW he's calling HIMSELF pathetic for even caring that much. my guy I think easing off on being judgemental towards yourself and your loved ones might help

JIANG CHENG APOLOGY EVENT CATCH IT ONCE EVERY TWENTY YEARS 🎇🎉🎈🎁

I can't tell if this is putting distance between jc and wwx (bc wwx is saying he did it as payment) or bringing them closer (bc wwx is saying there's no need for jc to regret or agonize over the past anymore)

I forgot how satisfying this scene was. wwx went through so many trials and despite the residual trauma, he really feels like he's able to move on. and that can include jc too

🥺🥺🥺

I believe in yunmeng sibling reconciliation!!! this was a really hopeful and honest and cathartic discussion and I feel really good about their future relationship. I get caught up in the scenes before this and I just a lot of jc fic writers on it, but after this scene I can def see their dynamic becoming much less antagonistic. wwx isn't joking about his pain or making excuses for jc or talking about how much he likes to be mistreated - he's gentle and honest and real. and he wants to move on. finally. finally they got there

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches and Wizards Job 12-13-14

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TWELVE

You know how I could tell the plan had gone to hell?

It was about the time I heard the most put-together woman I've ever met let out a quiet, angry little "Bugger!"

Sophie and Parker grabbed the door to the vault and tried to close it, but like most vault doors, it swung out. The people outside latched onto it and fought for control of it. I rushed forward to try and help. A claw came at me from around the door. It was vaguely human-shaped, as if someone had got a description of what a human hand looked like without actually having ever seen one. "Crap!"

Look, if Sophie was swearing at the situation, I was pretty sure I was allowed, too.

I caught the sorta-hand just under the wrist and slammed it hard against the frame of the vault door. Someone cursed outside in angry Russian. It was just the day for that kind of language, apparently. "Let go of the door!" I told them, backing away. They didn't have the right angle, they didn't have the muscle, and the things outside weren't human. There was no way we were winning control of the door, and that left the next best choice. Like Sun Tzu once said, something something battlefield of your choice.

They never questioned me. That was just one of the things that I was coming to really enjoy about working with the Leverage people: they trusted me. They'd hired me to do a job, they expected me to do the job, and they were absolutely willing, ready and able to get out of my way so I could do that job. Coupled with the fact that, Ford aside, not one of them minded shaking my hand, or looking me in the eye, I was beginning to feel like maybe the breaking-and-entering, the stealing, the lying and the whatever weird thing was going on with the van and all those paintings wasn't so bad.

I still didn't know what it was these people did.

Sophie and Parker each went in a different direction. "Don't hurt the artwork!" Sophie cried out.

I was hoping I wouldn't have to, to be fair. I planted myself directly in front of the vault door as it was wrestled open once again. My wand was out of the question; the last thing I wanted to do was start slinging fire around so many priceless treasures. Instead I reached under my duster for the modified shotgun holster Eliot had given me before the whole museum break-in debacle had started.

And for my staff.

I wasn't sure if all of the Surprise Ninja Brigade were inhuman or if I was dealing with a mixed crew. There was too much magic, too many power players potentially involved, for me to gamble either way. I had to assume at least some of them would be squishily human, and I had to temper my magic accordingly. Boston was buzzing in my veins, humming in my muscles. Since the morning the city had been slowly seeping into me. I wasn't back to full power from what the night's breath had corroded but it was a near thing. I worked a hand; I knew I had the firepower at the moment; what worried me was the control.

They swung the door fully open; it was, from their point of view, the smart thing to do if they wanted to charge us en masse. It also meant when the first one came rushing in, the rest of his buddies were all behind him, neat as bowling pins. I pointed the staff at them, "Forzare."

Unseen force caught the front man and threw him back into his friends. Then it caught those same friends and threw them back into the ones behind them. Everyone went flying back hard, slamming into the opposite wall with an almighty crash. I didn't hear anything crunching, though, which was the point.

I stepped forward hastily as our attackers tried to sort themselves out from the tangle I'd left them in. We were almost at the end of the hallway, which meant I had something like thirty yards of room between me and the airlock we'd come from. The first man came at me, and I heard him snarl.

Well, that made things much easier, didn't it. "Thank you," I told it. "Ventu!"

The gale that came out of me sent the man-shaped thing flying the entire length of the hallway and smashed him so hard into the airlock I did hear crunchy sounds that time. My concentration had slipped up for a split second, and the magic had roared out with far more force than I'd meant to.

"Harry!" Behind me, Sophie chided me mildly. She wasn't really upset, I realized, just upholding her duty as the Sensible One.

"Harry!" Parked cried out in an entirely different tone of voice. The rest of the pack was getting up.

I am not a scalpel; when it comes to magic my main advantage has always been the amount of raw power I can swing. But if I threw my usual sort of punch at the Surprise Ninja Brigade, with Boston backing me up, I was going to turn any humans in the party into pulp. Fire was out. Kinetic force was out.

I was just glad I'd had, for once, time to think about these things, and made plans accordingly. I'd spend the morning weaving a copper wire bracelet. It wasn't going to win any prizes for craftsmanship, but I was so surrounded by tech that I had to do something about it, and I couldn't very well run around under a suppression spell and be useful to Leverage at the same time. So I'd made the bracelet, and every time a piece of tech died around me, some of the electric feedback fed into it, rather than explode all over the people around me. It was the weakest piece of magic I currently had on my person - relatively speaking.

I pointed my hand at the pack. "Fulguri!"

Electricity arced out of the bracelet, along my fingers and through the air, blinding in the gloom of the hallway. The stale air filled with the smell of ozone, as if lightning had struck nearby. It leapt from one of our attackers to another, and another, and another, until it had struck all five. Two of them screamed, twitching violently. I wanted to scream myself; I hadn't thought to insulate myself against the electricity, and it felt as if my hand were on fire. Again. I didn't realize I'd stumbled back until I felt my shoulders hit the wall.

The remaining three things in human shape were smoking faintly, which was really weird to see, but they didn't look any worse for wear. One of them growled something in Russian at the two humans, and got a groan in response. It turned its full attention on me -

just in time to take a marble plinth full to the face.

Sophie managed not to get overbalanced, but only just. The plinth shattered. Her target staggered back and went down with a plaintive, confused little cry. The other two crossed a look. One of them lifted a hand.

And a black, long thing.

"No!"

I scrambled back to Sophie and Parker and threw out my hand. The taser's charge, souped up with my own electrical attack, slammed into my shield. I felt the force of it crackle and crawl like angry ants over it, looking for any way in. It was making my skin crawl without even touching it.

"They're calling for help!" Sophie exclaimed. I squinted against the flickering light; the one guy wasn't letting go of the taser button. Behind him, the other man was talking urgently into something cupped in the palm of his hand.

"Can't we?" I asked her, even though I didn't really want to hear the answer.

"Not for the past few minutes," she admitted.

The taser finally ran out of juice. I had just enough time to register that before I was up again. I slashed my staff at the two men. They both went flying to join their buddy by the airlock, but this time there were no snap-crackle-pop sounds.

There was, however, a tiny tinkling sound as whatever the one guy had been holding in his hand shattered beyond repair.

The silence was brutal. For a moment it felt as if I were the only thing alive in the half-darkness; my pendant was still lighting the hallway. All the other lights had burned out.

Then one of the certified humans groaned, breathing raggedly. I whipped around, stepped on the rubble of the plinth, and only my cat-like reflexes saved me from going down. Surely that, and not the fact I had my staff on my hand to catch me. "What happened to not hurting the artworks?"

"It's fine, it was a fake," Sophie breathed. "Harry, should we get the portrait out? We'd have to take it out of the frame."

"No. You're looking at two separate pieces of magic, the portrait and the frame itself. One's worthless without the other, and you'd still be leaving half the problem behind." Something inside me twisted painfully at the only way I could see of neutralizing the threat. I didn't want to even consider damaging something so old, so beautiful; it wasn't the painting's fault that someone had turned it into a door to the nearest hell. Belatedly it occurred to me that it was pointless, anyway: the two women with me would've likely killed me if I tried something like that.

"Can we, like, jam the lock in the painting?" Parker asked, in mirror of my thoughts.

"Not in a way you'd like."

They both caught on quick to what I meant. Then Sophie gasped. "Harry, one of those guys is melting."

I looked at the airlock. Crunchy McFly was already turning into goo. "He's from the Nevernever, most of these guys are," I explained. "Like the night's breath damage on Hardison, it's only real as long as you believe it in."

"Or as long as they're alive enough to believe in themselves?" I saw her clench her fists in exasperation.

But she never once made excuses. Not for the 'melting' guy, not for what she'd seen me do, not for any of it. For the first time I'd met someone who didn't just want to believe, but once confronted by the ugly truth behind the expectations of glittering rainbows and magical butterflies, the grit and blood and violence of it, and accepted it all.

I was insanely jealous of Ford at that moment. I just wasn't ever going to admit it, obviously.

"Parker, can you think of any way we can get the painting out in one piece right now?"

"Right now? No. The whole point was that we wouldn't be carrying anything out!"

"I know," Sophie admitted. "But there's only one reason for these people to be down here right now."

Parker scowled. "They're stealing it. They're using our con to cover their theft!" For someone who'd been talking about waltzing out with the portrait herself just that morning, she sounded incredibly insulted at the idea of someone else doing the stealing. I wasn't gonna touch that, though. I was still riding the high of having won a fight with six, uh, six -

What even were those things?

I stepped past the two women, replaced my staff in the modified shotgun holster and crouched by the one Sophie had hit with the fake plinth. The hands were the most obvious giveaway, but not the only one; everything was fine until you got to the foot. The man was wearing the same type of lace-up boot that a hundred armies wear around the world, but it did nothing to disguise the fact that there was an extra joint just above the ankle, as if the foot were far longer than the boot could accomodate. A faint scent of upturned dirt and crushed vegetation clung to the man. I tried to peel off the mask, but it wouldn't come off readily. It took me a moment to realize I was trying to yank his face off.

I let go. I had to take a moment to breathe and fight off the urge to wipe my hands repeatedly on anything that could clean them. In the light of my pendant I saw something had rubbed off on my fingers. Sticky, like blood, but it smelled bitter, like crushed grass.

I got a hunch and tipped the man's head sideways. I saw it then; the lines I'd thought were some kind of weaving or pattern on the mask were ears, flattened against its skull, starting a couple of inches higher than they would have in a normal human.

It was enough to tell me what our attackers were, and that we weren't even remotely close to being out of trouble. "We gotta go." I stepped back, still trying to rub that sticky feeling off on my shirt, and stepped on something that crinkled and crunched underfoot. Crouching down, the light of my pendant shone back at me from a small scattering of reflective shards.

Hell's Bells, had they been using a mirror to communicate? An honest-to-goodness enchanted mirror?

I went from worried to scared in a heartbeat. The situation had just escalated from Witchwell to actual fairy-tale enchantment. These were powers that shouldn't have existed outside the Nevernever; the modern world just couldn't support that level of magic without provoking some massive backlash. But there I was, dancing on the shards of a pocket-sized enchanted mirror. Travel-sized for your convenience. I snatched for a handful with my bad hand, stuffed them into a pocket of my duster out of instinct and reeled away. "We gotta go now."

"Harry?"

I raced past Sophie and back into the vault and the painting. There was no way we were winning this fight; all we could try to do was not make it a complete loss. I patted my coat down. "Tip it forward, I need to get behind it." I found the sharpie in my pocket.

"Harry!"

Sophie sounded utterly scandalized. Oh, sure, never mind stealing the priceless piece of art, but heaven forbid I doodled on it. Still, I switched the sharpie for a piece of chalk, one of many I'd prepared earlier in case I had to make and empower circles, a little drop of my blood staining them here and there. "Forward! We can't take it with us, but I can track it, if we get it done before more of those things show up!"

Sophie huffed and puffed, but she quickly fished out the gloves she'd pocketed back at the lab. Between her and Parker they managed to tip the painting forward just enough that I could squeeze all of me behind it. "How do you know there's more of them coming?" Parker demanded.

I scrawled the date and some nonsense numbers on the hard backing against which the painting was secured, then focused my will on the sequence that mattered: my address, back in Chicago. I felt the tracker snap into life with a sound no one else there heard. "Trust me." I managed to squeeze back out onto the vault. "If I'm right and they're leshy, there's always more."

"Leshy?"

"Um, Russian fairies of the field. Bit like bitey rent-a-thugs. Look like people-shaped hares." A lot of people thought leshy were related to rabbits, usually because they hadn't met a leshy in person. Or gotten kicked by one. Or bit by one. They did share one thing in common, rabbits, hares and leshy: they were incredibly prolific. "We need to go."

"Well, let me check that they bypassed all the security first," Parker grumbled, moving ahead of me. "We didn't get this far to trigger an alarm getting out -"

She stepped out and froze. To be fair, so did I.

There was a young woman there. She was a little shorter than Parker, curvy, dressed in very professional business attire. She had dark brown hair in a bun that had gone a little messy. I couldn't see a lot of detail with only the light of my pendant, but she looked as surprised as we were. "Iggy?" she said in disbelief.

"Jess." Parker sounded as if someone had gut-punched her.

I don't know, at the time, what clued me. It might have been that what little I could see of the shadow behind the woman didn't match her. Or maybe it was my knowledge that if any situation involving me can explode into violence at the first available opportunity, it absolutely will.

I do know that I saw the woman, Jess, begin to lift one hand. I saw her fingers twitch.

I snatched for Sophie, caught a wrist, heard her exclaim something. But I was busy tackling Parker out of the vault, out of the way. I shoved them both behind me and threw my hand out, summoning my shield and putting every bit of magic behind it that I still had. Boston roared through me.

Something a brilliant, poisonous green that matched entirely too well the color of the eyes of the man in the portrait slammed into my shield. It launched me back into the vault door so hard I forgot how to breathe. My field of vision shattered. The door, however many hundred pounds of metal and mechanisms, careened back and crashed against its hinges, the hydraulics screeching like banshees.

Belatedly, I realized I was on my knees. That one casual blast had taken everything I had, everything my shield bracelet could pack, and everything I'd drip-absorbed from the Boston air; it had barely winded her and I couldn't even convince my legs to hold me up.

"Koldun," the young woman hissed in a voice so old and full of power that every hair in my body suddenly stood up on end. She smiled; it was a deeply predatory gesture. "Wizard Dresden."

"Pleasure to meet me too," I wheezed, wrapping an arm around my chest. My ribs felt, if not cracked, at least solidly bruised. My entire back was stinging painfully. And still I couldn't shut up. Fear did that to me; it took any sort of brain-to-mouth filter and set it on fire. And speaking of fire -

"I had heard you had left your home. Pity the wind has brought you here to die."

"Prettier than you have tried," I replied when my fingers finally closed on my wand.

I already knew I was quicker than her on the draw. A line of fire blazed out, and I pointed everything I had on the wand at her face, based on two facts: one, speed and two, aiming at her meant I was aiming away from the vault.

I was also hoping for three: truly powerful beings rarely put out a shield for little ol' wizards like me. Those who did know me know better, but whoever Jess was didn't have the benefit of experience.

And what you do know, I was right on all three counts.

She howled in pain and fury, a sound that tried to take my knees right out from under me just as I finally managed to get to my feet, and launched herself back and away from the plume of fire, staggering. I didn't know if it was surprise or actual injury, and I didn't have the time to stop and find out. Whatever, whoever she might be, she was way more than I could handle, and I was the wizard of the team.

I scrambled around the door, nearly went down, tried to find a wall that would hold me upright long enough for the rest of me to figure out how to run. Instead I found two pairs of strong hands catching mine, yanking me up and forward, supporting me as I worked out how legs moved.

"Dresden, that was Jess!" Parker hissed at me as we hurried away, furious and betrayed.

"Trust me, Parker, unless your friend joined the cool kids' club between now and the last time you met her, that wasn't her."

Someone had helpfully cleared the unconscious bodies of the other two leshy away from the airlock door, and we all piled in. "Harry?" Sophie asked, a world of concern in the one word.

"Been better," I admitted. "Been worse."

"Who was that?"

"I don't know, but I can tell you that they're punching down. We need out, now."

"Harry." I saw Parker's hands working restlessly as she forced the airlock to abort its disinfecting cycle. "Is this a T-1000 thing?" she finally blurted out, her mouth pressed into a thin line.

She was afraid, and I had no idea what she was asking me.

"Is Jess alive?" Sophie translated.

"What? Yes! Probably. Most likely. Whatever it was just put on her face because it was useful at the moment." I turned and, lacking any better ideas, put my hand on the vault-side door lock. It sputtered, spat, and locked up. Such a burden of tension went out of Parker's shoulders at my answer that I could've sworn she shrank an inch or two. What are they teaching kids about dopplegangers these days?

The lab-side airlock door opened.

Once again, we all froze.

The lab was empty and shadowed, the only light coming through the polarized windows. In the gloom, the eyes of the five leshy staring at us gleamed red.

Hell's Bells.

THIRTEEN

There was an unknown, incredibly powerful being behind me, five angry-looking leshy in front of me, a building full of priceless art all around me, and I wasn't sure I had enough magic left in me to blow out the candles on a birthday cake, let alone fend off five fairy thugs.

I'd had better days.

I grabbed for my staff. I didn't know what, if anything, I was going to be able to do with it, but I make it a point to go down fighting if I know I'm going down. The leshy stood up straight, growling low, hare-like hands working restlessly. One of them took a step forward -

From the side, Eliot slammed into one of the leshy like a freight train. I heard the fairy squeak like a rubber duck at the impact, right before Leverage's heavy hitter rammed it full-force into a wall, forcing a wheezing, undignified 'heek' out of the creature. It slithered down to the floor, twitching helplessly. Eliot was already turning and the rest of the leshy hadn't even had time to figure out what was going on.

All the time I'd been with the Leverage people I'd been wondering why their hitter didn't carry a gun; it seemed counterproductive, that. In that moment, I realized why: he didn't need it.

A few steps and Eliot was on the nearest leshy. There were no quips, no pause, no hesitation; he closed in and punched it, and his whole body went with the blow. The leshy went down like a ragdoll.

And just like that the odds shifted completely, not that it mattered to Eliot. One of the fairies came at him head on while another darted to one side and tried to come at him from behind with a bite. He threw an elbow back so hard that I heard the leshy's teeth clack against one another when its mouth was forcibly closed, head whipping back so violently its ears actually flopped free. The hitter kicked the one in front of him and sent it staggering away, probably surprised beyond thought. Then he turned, grabbed those floppy ears, and slammed the leshy face-first into the nearest table.

Twice.

Just in case.

The last two leshy crossed a look as Eliot stood there, not even breathing hard, eyeing them like a kid selecting candy at a store. Leshy aren't cowards; they're not very bright, but they're not cowards.

They bolted for the door.

"Everyone alright?" he asked.

I realized Sophie was nowhere in sight. I had no poker face to speak of at the moment, I was busy with other things like breathing. Not falling on my face. Minutiae like that. My panic showed way too easy.

"Dresden, it's fine." With that absurd quickness I'd just seen him use to take out three fairy thugs, Eliot was by my side before I even saw him move, his voice calm and reassuring. Which was good, because either the world was tilting to the left or I was going down again to the right. "She went to make sure our path stays clear. Come on." He steadied me on one side and we hurried away from the airlock.

"Someone's stealing the portrait," Parker told him, and she sounded as infuriated as I'd seen her yet, trottting along my other side. "They're using our con to steal the portrait, and they already stole Jess' face!"

"Oh, crap," the hitter suddenly looked profoundly worried. "This ain't a T-1000 thing, is it?"

"I still don't know what that means, but no," I repeated. "She's fine, she's not dead. At worst she's tucked away in a closet somewhere. Most likely she doesn't even know someone's running around with her f -"

The airlock blasted out of its mooring. Not the airlock door; the entire thing came flying out, catapulted through the lab and slamming into the opposite wall with so much force that the reinforced windows on both its doors and along every wall of the lab shattered with multiple cracks of thunder. Any equipment in its path was pulverized or went flying every which way in multiple pieces; electronic shrapnel filled the air. Everything not bolted into a shelf tumbled down. The entire room shook. The three of us went crashing down.

Boston flooded in through the broken windows. It felt raw against my bruised ribs, and I'd never been more glad to feel that grating rush, or to see so many bits of electronic equipment die a fiery death. I threw my hand out and called out, "Fulguri!"

Lightning crackled out, everything the bracelet had snagged through the destruction of the lab. It didn't feel any better than the first time, but I was nearly out of options. It danced into the darkened hallway beyond the gaping masonry hole where the airlock had once rested… and into a shield.

Ah. Fast learner.

The shadows of the hallway stretched forward a little, and the man in the painting stepped out of them.

He was shorter than me by a breath. He was lean, the rest of him as narrow and angular as his face. He wore a traditional Russian embroidered black robe over a pristine white dress shirt, the ancient and the modern somehow perfectly balanced rather than making him look like the clown I wished he was. Black loose pants were secured around his waist with a black silk sash embroidered in silver and green, and he was wearing black dress shoes I'm pretty sure cost more than my payout from Leverage. He even had the same little smirk he was wearing on the painting. With all those angles from his beard, his moustache and his face, with the hooked nose, he really did look like a vulture. The only thing he was missing was the emerald brooch.

"You might have told me you were leaving, wizard Dresden, you and your friends." His English was very deeply accented, his voice somewhat pleasant, vaguely amused. He laced his hands behind his back like a mildly disapproving teacher. "We might have parted cordially, if nothing else."

"Really? And you'd have let us leave?"

"Well," the man said, his smirk growing wider. He pulled his hand up and out of the shadows he brought a staff, a bent and gnarled thing that looked like the spine of something that was still alive when it had been removed.

He was a wizard.

"Before you tried to set me on fire, perhaps I would have," he declared cheerfully, and rapped the staff lightly on the ground. I rolled to my knees and brought up my shield on instinct.

Pure, raw force sent me skidding back on the ground, but I was too low for it to throw me over. The slide stopped when both Parker and Eliot slammed into my back, bracing against me. My ribs didn't like it, but I wasn't complaining. Better than the alternative, which probably involved all three of us turned into very fine mist.

"Dresden, what is he?!" Eliot demanded when the attack finally let up.

I wasn't sure what to answer to that. Incredibly powerful? Stupidly old? What little I'd understood of the conversations surrounding the portrait, it was at least two hundred years old, which meant he was at least two centuries old. If he also was one of Baba Yaga's students, I didn't like my odds against him. I didn't like anyone's odds against him and, once again since I'd gotten involved with the Leverage crew, that wasn't the biggest problem.

The biggest problem was that, whatever else he might be, he was human. Which left me in the unenviable position of either having to explain self-defense to the White Council - I knew exactly how that was going to go. Or even trying to scratch him when I'd already failed twice. I was sure that Leverage could come up with something radical like, oh, caving the museum in on his head or something. I just didn't know if even that was going to be enough.

The man stepped past the gouges the airlock had left behind, rubble crunching under his expensive shoes, and moved aside. Behind him came the two humans that had been running with the leshy in the hallway, carrying the painting.

"They have my portrait!" Parker hissed. "Harry!"

"Problem?" Eliot asked tightly.

"It's a lock and a door!" she snapped. I was expecting the words to make no sense to Leverage's hitter, but apparently he was so used to translating Parker-ese that he didn't even blink, just swore under his breath.

She was still right, and I still didn't know what to do about it, until it dawned on me that the stranger probably wanted the painting damaged even less than we did. I reached out with my magic. It was a lot harder to do not using any of my tools, but I still managed to latch onto the mangled ruin of a small metal cart, and I threw it as hard as I could at the painting.

The man snapped a hand out and the wreck bounced off a shield a bare foot from the two people and their precious cargo. He wasn't fast; he had muscle, but not reflexes. That didn't make a lot of difference when he pointed the staff at us and hammered on my already battered shield. My entire arm was going numb, and I heard Eliot grunt behind me when an immense weight came to rest on us and tried to crush us.

That was when I realized Parker wasn't behind me anymore.

"You do realize this is my property?" the man said conversationally. "I commissioned Sokolov for it."

"And what, sold it to a museum when the going got tough?"

He laughed.

"Dresden," Eliot hissed and tipped his head at a tank half buried in rubble. I volleyed that at the two goons in black. It bounced off another shield and ricocheted around it, nearly tripping one of the men.

"You are quite as the tales describe you, Dresden. Have you not got enough concerns in your life that you wish to make an enemy of me? Very few people have done this and survived."

"Can't have life getting boring. I might end up like you." Eliot pointed out another piece of equipment I couldn't recognize; I'm not into tech, but I can recognize a plan when I'm part of one. I threw that at the men next. It bounced against the shield hard enough to put a ripple on it, but not much else.

"Powerful? Respected? Immortal?"

"An asshole."

The blow came, unsurprisingly. It wasn't a hard guess; hell, the man had a portrait commissioned of himself. It hammered me down on hands and knees, and Eliot growled with the effort not to get crushed to the ground. My shield-bracelet was beginning to glow.

"Hey, Harry, I'm curious," the hitter called out, voice loud and strained; he pointed to a heavy piece of rubble where one of the window frames had buckled, tearing through the heavy masonry. Then he shifted his hand and gestured broadly at the pipes overhead. "What d'you think a sprinkler system's gonna do to a watercolor painting?"

The wizard looked up and hissed, modern enough to know what a sprinkler system was but not modern enough to realize there were no sprinklers on the pipes. His power came off us as he threw all of it at the pipes, buckling and twisting them beyond usefulness.

It gave me enough time to grab that piece of rubble and bring it down as hard as I could on the tank I'd thrown that way. The already stressed tank ruptured. Gas burst out of it in a violent cloud; it caught the twisted piece of equipment and threw it at the men from the other side of the shield. Like most wizards, the man in black had been taught and trained to create a shield that maximized protection while conserving energy: it was a half-bubble, aimed at me.

The piece of equipment clipped the goon in the back just above the knees and sent him flying like a pinwheel with a squawk. Credit to him, he didn't let go of the painting. It twisted with him, overbalancing the man in front and sending him crashing into the shield from the inside. He bounced into it and went down, stunned, and he did let go of the painting.

Out of absolutely nowhere, Parker sprang out of the gas cloud, snatched the painting from the other goon, spun around and ran back into the chemical fog with it. What even -!

The man in black swore furiously and aimed his staff at her. I dropped my shield and threw all my power not at him or his shield - I threw it at the top of the bone staff.

I couldn't scratch the man. I could barely make a dent in his shield. But under that wild, blind shot that was all I could muster, the staff careened to one side and his shot went wild. It slammed into the wall that separated the lab from the hallway and the vaults and went through it like a wrecking ball.

I barely had enough for a shield; I ended up not needing one. Eliot caught the back of my duster and yanked me against one of the few tables that was still somewhat untouched. Rubble rained down on us, but he'd found us a shield as good as any of mine. My ears were still ringing, my body reeling from being so close to the impact, and I was barely aware that Eliot was yanking me up on my feet, dragging me away into the dust-choked room.

A shout sent us both flying through the air with enough concussive force that I knew the landing was going to suck. "ENOUGH!"

My duster and my shoulder caught most of the force of the landing. Great in the case of the duster, that's what it was there for; not so great in the case of my arm. I heard a crunch and the world went to a bright haze, everything blurry at the edges. I couldn't hear much beyond a high, thin whistle.

I could see, however, the last three leshy burst out of the shadows beyond the hole the airlock had left behind. They lunged at Parker as she tried to climb over the wreck of the airlock and out of the room, hampered by the painting. Eliot rolled where he'd fallen, and was on his feet as if he'd done nothing but trip on a stairwell, darted forward and kicked not at the leshy, but at the rubble everyone was struggling with. The fairies went down with shrill, whistling screams; Parker leapt and darted like a deer, and for a moment I dared to hope we'd get away with the painting.

The darkness beyond the hole in the wall lashed out like obedient little tentacles when the man in black gestured. The sheer creepy factor was honestly enough to get my wits back in working order, at least partially. They caught Parker; I didn't think she was going to be nearly as impressed as I was, and I was right; all that got out of her was an indignant "Hey!", followed by the most aggravated noises in the world when the leshy caught onto the painting from the other end. Things immediately became a tug of war between the man in black and Parker, and Parker and the leshy. Something in the painting creaked alarmingly and the man in black shouted angrily at the leshy, who froze and turned to look at him before returning their focus to their prize.

Except they'd taken their eyes off it just long enough for Eliot to get to them. The unfortunate leshy closer to him was the one Sophie had clocked with the plinth. He headbutted it and it went down with a pained howl.

The writhing darkness rippled down Parker's arms. She didn't care. It flowed along her hands. She growled at it. It latched around her fingers and began prying them, one by one, off the painting.

"Harry!" she screamed.

When Parker had walked me through what she planned to do, earlier in the morning, I took the time to make plans and prepare contingencies. I'm not great at thinking ahead, but I've learned the value of it over the years. I couldn't turn myself invisible, or anyone else, but I could have made myself a little harder to detect to normal senses. I could create four or five quick containment circles on the fly. I had the bracelet. I had a few potions on me. I even had something for dealing with fairies, though nothing that could have done more than inconvenience something as physical as the leshy. A lot of the tricks in my pockets I made knowing I was heading into Boston's Museum of Fine Arts, a massive collection of priceless art, each piece impossible to replace if damaged.

I got a empty ketchup bottle out of my duster pocket and squeezed it hard into the dust-choked air, threw my hand up and summoned up a wheeze of magic. I didn't have enough magic left in me to blow out the candles on a birthday cake, but I did have enough to turn the iron filings white-hot, to turn that tiny bit of heat and metal into a thousand bright dots of light. The tentacles shattered; they didn't like light any more than any other shadow does.

Parker managed to keep her grip on the portrait. But in the middle of her worrying over the painting and Eliot worrying over the leshy and me worrying over the tentacles, we'd all forgotten the actual enemy.

The man in black was suddenly and simply there, atop the rubble, directly behind Parker. I threw a shield between the two of them, but he swept his staff through it and shattered it. His free hand caught a handful of the thief's blond hair and spun her around, sharp teeth bared at her. "You -!"

Parker decked him. It didn't have the power Eliot was packing, she was a scarce third his size, but she did it exactly the same way, throwing all of her body behind the punch even around the grip the guy had on her and her absolute refusal to let go of the portrait. Blood flew and the man in black yowled when she broke his nose; he lost his grip on her for a split second and she made to bolt, but he launched the staff forward and caught the hook of it around her throat, dragging her back to him and clamping his free hand on the portrait.

So she punched him again, this time on the mouth, a gorgeous uppercut that bounced his head back like it was on a spring. When it came back, his face was a snarl, the sharp angles of it looking anything but human. He was a raptor, a bird of prey, and he sank his talons into the front of Parker's shirt, dragging her too close for her to swing effectively at him, lifting her a few inches off the ground and twisting his grip until she was forced to let go of the painting or accept a broken wrist. "Little princess," he hissed at her through bloody teeth, "know your place."

I decided, at that point, that Eliot seemed to be the only one who was having any luck dealing with our current situation, so I figured his tactics had to be better than mine. I ran at the asshole and tackled him as hard as I could, my shoulder screaming all the way.

It wasn't pretty and it wasn't magic but it did the job. We both went flying off the pile of rubble, crashing into anything and everything. I heard Parker yell somewhere behind me; I was hoping Eliot was taking her out of the line of fire, and since she sounded pissed as hell, I was pretty sure he was. The portrait was important, but Parker was even more irreplaceable.

Claws tried to grab my shoulders; they couldn't get past the protections on the duster, but it didn't feel like roses on the injured arm. One of the leshy had come looking for me. It peeled me off the man in black, yanked me back. I tried to grab onto something, but I felt my grip slip as if I'd caught nothing but the tatters of some old fabric. I got one good look at the man in black as he staggered to his feet and noticed that, while there was blood smeared all over his face, his nose didn't look broken anymore, or his lip split.

I grabbed for my staff while he barked something in Russian at the leshy. I had a feeling I knew what was coming, and I wasn't disappointed; the fairy thug threw its arms around me and tried for an armlock. Next, those teeth would be coming for my throat.

My staff isn't anything fancy. It's not the bones of some long dead creature or anything like that. But it's five feet and change of solid wood that's survived anything I've thrown at it, or thrown through it. I didn't have time to get it out of the modified sheath, but I had just enough room to yank it up and slam the top of it into the leshy's face, throwing in what magic I'd managed to get back, just for good measure.

I was a little mad, honestly. I would have never got even a little bit of my magic back as fast in Chicago as it was regenerating in Boston. But even while I took advantage of that fact, I recognized the danger of it. Magic's not meant to be an inexhaustible reservoir; you empty it, and it takes time to come back, and your body uses that time to heal, to harden, like building up muscle or growing a callus. Without that break, I was in very real danger of hurting myself just for the sake of one more spell, one more shield, because the magic for it would absolutely be there, but my own stamina wouldn't.

The impact ripped the leshy off me and sent it flying back. Ok, so a little bit of my anger might have gone in with the spell, so sue me.

"Dresden!" Eliot shouted. He had Parker by his side and she looked fighting mad, but at least she wasn't trying to rush the man in black for the painting he'd managed to secure. I couldn't think of a single thing the hitter might have told her to get her to give up, but I wasn't about to complain. He had the last of the leshy scattered underfoot, unsurprisingly.

I backed away, my eyes on the man in black. I'd come by that lesson the hard way, I wasn't about to ignore it.

He stepped back as well, a hand on his staff, the other carrying the painting. "No, I do not think I would have let you go, wizard Dresden," he admitted with that avuncular cheer that was beginning to make me want to punch him on principle. "You and your friends seem the sort to make trouble out of whim. I like to keep that privilege to myself."

I was by Eliot at that point. "Dresden, we're leaving."

"Yeah. If he lets us."

"All we need is one of those bubble things, man."

"Oh, you will need much more than that," the man in black said, his smile growing a little wider.

I never saw him move. Not a gesture, not a whisper. The first hint I had that this man, whoever he was, had opened a full portal to the Nevernever, was when what he'd summoned stepped through it.

FOURTEEN

The bear was simply huge. I'm about six feet and the man in black was about my height. The bear's shoulder rested higher than his head as it rippled into existence and moved to one side, pacing sedately. It was a golden monster, a beast out of a fairy tale, copper gold fur and black eyes, and its mouth was bigger than my head. There was a thin thread of spit trailing off teeth longer than my fingers. It shuffled forward until it stood by the man in black, eyeing the three of us like very tasty cookies.

"Harry," Parker whispered, voice strangled. "Harry, that's not real is it?"

"I'm pretty sure if it tears your head off a shower's not gonna fix it, Parker," Eliot hissed.

The bear roared, spit flying, and we ran. There was nothing else we could do. It charged after us, making the ground shake, snarling and closing the distance way too quickly.

"Dresden, can't you do anything?!" Eliot shouted.

"I'm open to suggestions!"

"Corner!" Parker twisted around and sprinted down the hallway. Eliot and me had a little more mass to displace; I nearly went down, and he practically bounced off the wall.

The fighting had knocked the power out in the entire museum, and the leshy had torn their way through the security doors and walls separating the lab from the rest of the museum claws-first. We had a clear path, it was just a very messy path. Outside the confines of the lab we could hear distant screaming, faint sirens. "Second museum getting hit in Boston in as many days for the same piece. Someone's gonna have kittens over this one," Eliot said.

"Corner!"

We twisted around into another hallway. I slammed into the turn shoulder-first, gritted my teeth and managed not to faint, but it was a close thing. "Why this way, the door's right there!"

A statue went flying behind us, slammed into the wall and shattered basically into powder.

"This is where the replicas are!" Parker yelled back. "Corner!"

The Golden Bear couldn't corner any better than us, but it also had more padding to help with the impact, and giant claws to help with his nonexistent turn ratio. He swatted at us and a plant in an ornament pot went flying between me and Eliot, the wind of its passage making his hair and my duster fly. The next roar sounded like it was right behind my shoulder. The pot slammed into a table and both went to splinters; Parker leapt over it; we ran around it.

"This is not tenable!" I shouted at them.

"I know!" Eliot yelled back.

"Corner!"

It was going to catch us; that wasn't a question, it was a ticking clock. There was nothing we could throw a it, not magic, not force; it was too big to care.

"It's got to have a weakness, Dresden!" Eliot yelled.

"Sure! Magic silver weapons. Holy heroes of the Crown. It's a Golden Bear! A monster from Russian fairy-tales! I don't know about you but I'm fresh out of holy swords, charming princes and blessed heroes."

Parker, ahead of us, slowed down briefly. "I'm not. Stairs!"

"Stairs?!" Eliot sounded incredulous. I didn't have enough breath to protest, I was just glad he was doing it for the both of us.

We launched ourselves up the broad, beautiful stairwell. The Golden Bear crashed into it, took one gigantic gallumphing lunge forward, and I felt its claws catch the edge of my duster. It's amazing, how three tons of Nevernever murder breathing down your neck can inspire you to new feats of speed and agility. I almost caught up to Parker, arm be damned. The stairs turned, we turned with them, and the bear crashed into the turn, roaring fury at being balked yet again.

But then we were in a straightaway. Parker didn't hesitate, didn't turn, she just put her head down and sprinted forward, leaving both Eliot and me behind. "Anything you got left, Dresden," Eliot gritted out.

I went for my pockets, trying to find anything even remotely useful. I wasn't used to thinking the way the Leverage people thought; I saw the use in one thing, that was it. Them, you gave them a problem and they already had ten solutions thought out, could come up with twenty more on the fly, and if they had time to bounce ideas off of each other? It took me hours, sometimes days, to do what they did so effortlessly, unless I got lucky.

But I'd be lying if I didn't admit they were rubbing off on me a little. I found my chalks, and I realized I didn't need a circle - just an obstacle course. They were already primed; my thought had beeen that I might end up making protection circles around priceless artwork in a hurry. I hadn't realized at the time that Leverage was even more interested in protecting them than I was.

I empowered them and threw them over my shoulder. They broke into pieces, unsurprisingly; it was just cheap chalk. I felt the fragments activate, tiny bits of will made into impenetrable walls.

I heard the Golden Bear slam into one, heard its claws skid into the floor. I was a little sorry I couldn't turn around and watch the creature turn itself into an accordion, but you know. Busy running, trying to get away from death by mauling. Its next roar was so powerful it felt as if the wind of it had shoved me forward. The bear twisted around the bits of empowered chalk, batting at them. My circles were strong, but these weren't circles, just fragments. It tore them apart with minimal effort.

"Parker, you better have a plan!" Eliot shouted angrily, matching pace with me.

"Of course I do!" She yelled back. "This is Boston!"

I saw Eliot pause.

And there it was, the ray of sunshine. It made sense to him, even if didn't make sense to me.

"Corner!" We were in front of one of the massive second-story windows, with nowhere to go. Parker threw herself to one side so abruptly she finished the turn on her knees. I felt something grip the back of my duster and haul me up in the opposite direction, and Eliot and I stumbled to the other side.

The Golden Bear was suddenly facing the window, running at it full tilt. The glass and frame didn't stand a chance; it catapulted at it, crashed through, fell down one story to the manicured lawn below. It wasn't even winded; it just righted itself up, rose to its feet and bellowed a challenge.

Thirty of Boston's finest opened fire on it.

I didn't expect the guns to do much; they were just guns, and the Bear was far too powerful a creature of the Nevernever. But when I stumbled up to the window it was to see every shot tearing into the Bear's substance, peeling chunks off of the massive body.

"You did say 'blessed heroes'," Parker pointed out breathlessly as we watched the police efficiently take down the creature.

I didn't have the words, I could only stare as the Golden Bear went down.

"This is Boston, man," Eliot said, laughter in his voice. "I would bet you money that most of the cops down there had a little party the day they got their badge, invited the priest from the parish their families go to, have been going to for generations. Got a blessing for luck and safety."

Ok, well, that absolutely met the terms of 'blessed' really well. "And cops are sworn to serve and protect in front of, technically, the ruling authority of the city. The very definition of a knight, a hero."

"Yup," Eliot confirmed.

We watched until the Golden Bear stopped moving.

"I'm sorry, Parker." It seemed important to say it; she'd fought so hard.

"For what?"

"I'm sorry the man got the painting."

"Yeah, you said it was a door and lock?" Eliot asked.

"Yup," Parker said very neutrally; it held for a moment before a truly wicked smile bloomed on her face. "And you know what normal people usually need to open a locked door?" She reached into one of the pockets in her all-black outfit, pulled out a tiny bit of shimmering silver, studded with diamonds, and let it dangle from her fingers like she hadn't just done the impossible. "A key."

[liightbringr]

𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝.

@makowing asked: ' you too plan to stop me?ㅤafter everything? 'ㅤthere is vitriol lacing words, a pain in his heart that he had not expected to feel. ㅤsephiroth was a weapon, an emotionless machine bent on exacting mother's will and returning the planet to her.ㅤto take his place at the apex.ㅤit wounded him to know she'd betray him so easily.ㅤbut alas, that is the fate deemed upon them both, the arbiters deemed it so, and thusly he must assuage any regrets that linger — and drive masamune through her.ㅤthey tell him so, they have it all within the scriptures, this is how the story must go. ㅤ' i truly believed you would stand by my side.ㅤthat you, out of anyone would know what it means to have power within your grasp...ㅤto return everything to its rightful place.ㅤi had hoped you held that same desire, evangelique. ' he's angered, in his eyes it is rightfully so that he holds such rage.ㅤshe would not meet him in any common ground now, her sides chosen and her role in this tale accepted.ㅤhow many more times will he meet her like this?ㅤsephiroth questions if there was ever a time awaiting him where he would have her at his side?ㅤwhere her desires to have everything back in her life, in her world...ㅤ her people, they would be enough to pull her in.ㅤ' you wound me.ㅤthis dance we have endured before, you wounded me then.ㅤis this how little you think of me?ㅤto turn against me every single time? 'ㅤgloved hand twists tighter onto the hilt of masamune... seven seconds.ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤseven seconds is all he has.ㅤall they have. ㅤ' so be it.ㅤyou will not halt me, he will still crumble.ㅤhe will bring it to me, whether you try to intervene or not.ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤi will beckon the meteor and bring this all asunder. '

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑; a howling, monstrous cacophony of damnation && the death that it could all yield. A myriad of bitterness && selfishness && destruction that lies in wait at the tips of his fingers && has since made a home in the backs of his eyes. It's deep in his bones. Deep, deep, deeper in the void that resides in his chest. Where a heart once was, she senses fragments so deeply buried. There's a hole there---could she ever reach what lies at the bottom of that pit once again? The memories of their youth && the way, once upon a time, they loved one another. But pain, anguish, && desperation are life-altering constructs. They can unmake && remake the psyche. That which could break down the fortification of the mind in ways so irreparably palpable. Her heart aches. "Once upon a time.. I would've followed you to the ends of the planet and back. I was so dedicated to everything about you.." She stands before him with little to naught in the way of weaponry. No blade midst grasp, no spear perched proudly at her side. The same hands that once traced his edges && drank deep the feeling of his hands within her own are devoid of force. Ever the warrior to only call upon her weapon when absolutely necessary. && to any other, the mere presence of this unfortunate soul would equate to just that. But they wouldn't deem him a victim of circumstance. They would not see him as naught more than a man wronged by the system. The backs that turned on him, the hands that broke him, the eyes of the world that plagued him---&& then there was the woman that stands before him. The woman that loved him. The woman that loves him. "But we were young and the world wasn't fair. It was unkind and it broke us. If I were to cling to the same twisted vindication you do, that bitterness you hold, then perhaps I, too, would want the world to burn." A singular step draws her nearer, a soldier since turned bordering upon divinity staring wayward to he who has long since been a force of nature. They are the immovable object versus the unstoppable force. An age old construct wrought of past sentiments crumbling before her very eyes. The sadness in her eyes is evermore a genuine truth. The way she combats the quiver of her lip, the scrunch in her nose; compromised only on an emotional front. She is prepared to do whatever she must to ensure this realm remains. But it brings her no joy. Does he believe I enjoy this? "Do what you feel that you need to do. But not without a fight." There is equal measure of light && darkness within her. A being comprised of harmony, of balance. Where the sun shines, so too does the moon wane. && who better to know the will she upholds than beloved he? "I will be what stands between you and this world." I love you. Please.. don't do this.

[dameronology]

angel eyes (obi-wan)

summary: after order 66, obi-wan kenobi tried his very best to move on from you. it would be a shame if you were to ruin that. (obviously based on the abba song) - 2.8k words

warnings: language, kind of emotional infedelity?? and also angst. no kenobi spoilers tho.

it's 4.11am and i have been writing this for six hours. and truth be told i think i could do more with it but even more truther be tolder i am too sleep deprived to argue with myself. enjoy.

-jazz

Your relationship with Obi-Wan Kenobi had died with the Jedi Order.

The end of your relationship had been beautifully in sync with the start of your relationship, in the sense that it had been out of necessity and a little for your own soundness of mind. It was clear from the start that Kenobi was essential in your life if you wanted to stay sane. He was grounded and smart, which was a beautiful contrast to your haywire, rebellious ways. So you became friends. And then you found that being friends wasn't really an option, because you loved him and couldn't really live without him. You hadn't expected to find the love of your life in the very place that forbade such a thing, but you would come to learn that the universe wasn't really fair. Still though, it hadn't felt completely and entirely cruel when Obi-Wan affirmed that he felt the same way about you. Thus, triggering the beginning of the most intensely passionate and beautiful five years of your life.

Obi-Wan wasn't a man who did things by halves. In fact, he did them tenfold or he didn't do them at all. That meant that he absolutely carried you through the worst of times and the best of times. He made you feel things you hadn't thought possible: like heaven was right there in the Jedi Temple. Sneaking around and lying to the Council got a little difficult at times, but all it took was one look at him and you knew in your soul that it was worth it. All those whispered conversations of leaving the Order together and having a future, a real future, were the only thing that got you through the war. They'd been nothing but a fantasy at the time.

You still remembered how it felt to see him after Order 66. The comms systems had fallen completely and you had no clue if he was alive. It was too hard to concentrate and reach out over the Force. Those hours had been gruelling.

You'd seen Obi-Wan for the first time aboard Bail Organa's ship. You'd never seen him move so quickly; he took you up in his arms, pulled you into chest and just held you for a moment. Neither of you said anything. Neither of you had to. Amongst the grief and loss, you felt a sense of relief. It was hard to say you'd lost everything when you still had him.

At least you thought. Because by that point, it was beyond dangerous for two Jedi to stay together. There was a galaxy wide manhunt for every remaining knight but especially Obi-Wan. His leading part in this entire thing basically put a target on his back and that was enough danger for one person, let alone two. The Empire would have struck gold if they found you together.

Your only option - and the only way to survive - was to go your separate ways. It hurt. It hurt a lot. Mostly because a small part of you had hoped that those silly fantasies about a future together might finally pay off now that the Order was gone. But, like I said: the universe was cruel. Far crueller than you ever expected it to be.

The only thing that kept you going after your separation was his promise to you.

"I'll never love anyone the way I love you."

Obi-Wan was to go to Tatooine and you were to go Alderaan. Your names would be wiped from the records; you'd be given new identities, new stories, new everything. You owed Bail Organa your life for offering to help you out.

Saying goodbye hurt you in a way you couldn't quite explain. The first few weeks without him were even worst: you could no longer reach out to him when your nightmares sank in during the late hours. There were no blue eyes to open up to; no-one to say sweetheart, don't be stupid every time you were about to make an irrational decision. It was like you were two parts of a whole and now Obi-Wan was gone, the logical part of your mind had gone completely.

Maybe that was why you fell into bounty hunting. The danger and adrenaline wasn't that far off from your days as a Jedi. It paid well and no-one hunting the Jedi would ever think to look in the dingy bars and cantinas of downtown Alderaan. It worked in a way you hadn't expected. Not enough to make you feel as whole as you had at the Temple with Obi-Wan, but just enough so that you could feel yourself moving on.

Obi-Wan's words rung through your brain every night for the next five years. I'll never love anyone the way I love you.

Time passed and you had flings here and there; a few dates that a mutual friend set you up, a brief dalliance with a fellow bounty hunter, yada, yada, yada. None it counted for anything. It was all a desperate attempt to find a connection again. There came a point where it felt like your ability to love another person lived and died with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Five years after the fall of the Galactic Republic, you took a job in Tatooine. There was a complete disconnect in your mind between the desert planet and Obi-Wan living there. Hell, you didn't know if he was still there. You didn't even know if he was still alive. It had been a good two years since you’d had any updates from him. The Organas had made a point of updating you at first, but that had faded along with your contact with them. Reminders of your former life weren’t what you needed anymore. 

Tatooine was dry. It was dusty and it was sandy and it was fucking dry. There was no guarantee that the quarry you were after was even there. Mos Eisley wasn’t exactly a small spaceport; it was packed with different shops and stalls and clustered with people. That made it the least ideal place to try and hunt someone down. 

You elbowed your way through the crowds in the main square, eyes peeled for the quarry. Your hood was up around your head - half to protect you from the sun, but also half to hide your face. There had been whispers over the last few weeks of an Empire presence here. Even though Jabba the Hutt apparently ruled the place, it wasn’t completely unheard of for the Imps to be sniffing around everywhere. 

Hooking a right, you turned the corner from the main square and into one of the smaller streets. You almost instantly collided with a girl; you let out an oof! as you fell on your ass, a cloud of dust evaporating around your form as you hit the ground. She took a step back and held out her hand. 

“I am so sorry!” she exclaimed.

“No, it’s my fault-”

“- oh, darling. Are you running into people again?”

You froze. You actually fucking froze. That was a voice you would have recognised anywhere - even more so because he’d said that phrase to you a thousand times before. It was always oh darling, are you running into people again? or how did you not see the wall, my love? or just…something about how fucking clumsy you were. Obi-Wan had found it endearing.

You heard his voice and then his face came into view. He didn’t look that different - his hair was a little longer and his beard more jagged, but his blue eyes caught yours and immediately you knew it was Obi-Wan Kenobi. Undeniable and in the flesh. Calling another person sweetheart. He took a step towards her and put an arm on her waist, hand resting on her hip. That was how he used to hold you. Fucking ouch. 

He hadn’t noticed you. Not yet. 

“Oh hush, Ben,” she smiled, and then looked back at you. “I am genuinely sorry. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Not physically. Haha. 

“No, not at all,” you cleared your throat. 

Obi-Wan glanced from the girl and towards you - then you shared the same look. It was like seeing a ghost from his past. Actually, you were a ghost from his past. He’d tried so hard for so long to shove you to the back of his mind and move on. It was only in the last few years that he’d succeeded. He should have known that you were going to turn up out of nowhere and blow everything apart. You’d done it once before. Why not again? 

He didn’t know what to say. That was ironic, because he’d spent hours laying awake at night thinking about the speech he would give you if you ever turned up again. It was gone now. And so it seemed had his ability to speak. 

Neither of you knew how to play it. Did you pretend you were strangers, for the sake of the girl in front of you? The girl, who in your opinion, looked at him a little too much like you used to. With some kind of admiration and hope. Like Obi-Wan Kenobi hung the stars in the sky and wrote out the constellations just for you. To her, it seemed he was Ben. You didn’t who the fuck Ben was. Moreso, you didn’t know who the fuck this girl was. 

“Ben, is it?” you asked. Okay, you were going with playing dumb. “Are you guys locals?”

“I am!” the girl piped up. “Born and raised, sadly. Ben here moved to the port a few years ago. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“I’m…here on business,” you trailed off. “I’m just looking for a hotel, actually. It’s getting dark and I don’t fancy staying on my ship all night. If you guys could just give me directions, I’ll be on my way and-”

You didn’t want to be on your way. You had a thousand questions to ask; some about Kenobi, some about the relationship he seemingly had with this girl. Neither of those things were your business. Your relationship with him had ended half a decade ago. It was just that promise of I’ll never love anyone like I love you that rang through your head. It would have been easier to believe he didn’t look at her the same fucking way he once looked at you. 

“The hotels here are extortionate,” she said. “Ben has a spare room. He’s always letting travellers crash there. I’m sure he won’t mind if you stay the night.”

Spoiler alert: he did mind. And you minded too. You minded even more than his name was seemingly Ben now. You knew it mostly for safety, so that the Imps couldn’t find him, but he was always Obi-Wan in your mind. Nothing would ever change that. 

“It’s okay,” you insisted. “I really don’t mind paying. Besides, I’m just a stranger and-”

“- nonsense!” she cut you off. “You don’t seem like an axe murderer.”

To Obi-Wan, you were arguably much worse than an axe murderer. 

“Uh,” he stuttered. He couldn’t say no - the girl clearly had him wrapped around her finger. “I don’t see why not.”

You gave him a look that said think, Kenobi. Think of a single fucking reason. 

Still, he had nothing.

“Great,” you murmured.

The girl leant down and picked up the bags that you’d dropped earlier. She was nice. Too nice. Not only did that make it harder to dislike her, but it made you think that things between them must have been boring. Your entire relationship with Obi-Wan had been built on the fact that you were chaotic as fuck and he was the calm one. You’d ruined his life in the best way. 

—

You spent the rest of the afternoon traipsing after the couple through the Mos Eisley markets. They were together - you could decipher that much. The girl seemed grabbier than him but you couldn’t decipher if it was always that way, or if Obi-Wan was just playing it down because you were there. 

It killed both of you not being able to talk about the things you needed, or to say the things you needed to. There was so much unspoken tension in the air and it was a surprise that his lover hadn’t picked up on it. She seemed completely clueless, from the minute she invited you to stay in his spare room, to the minute she kissed him goodbye and retired back to her own house for the night.

That left you and Kenobi in his converted cave, sat in silence until the door slammed shut and you both jumped into action. Naturally, you were the first to speak. 

“What the fuck is going on?” 

“I could ask you the same,” Obi-Wan shot back. “What are you doing here?”

“I wasn’t lying earlier when I said I was on business,” you said. “I followed a bounty here. I didn’t expect to run into you. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure if you were alive.”

“I am - just about,” he murmured. “I could say the same for you.”

“I wouldn’t call this just about,” you replied, glancing around. “Obi-Wan, who is Ben?”

“Ben is the name I took upon arriving here,” he explained. “Obi-Wan Kenobi is no more. He’s dead. He had to die.”

“He’s not dead,” you shook your head. “I’m looking right at him, aren’t I?”

“Not quite.”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you scoffed. “I recognised you straight away. I can see it in your eyes - the way you look around when you think you see danger, that inquisitive glance towards the crowds, the way you hold yourself. You can change your name all you want but nothing will change the fact that you are Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“You haven’t changed one bit.”

“You have, though,” you muttered. “With your new house, and job, and girlfriend-”

“- don’t be like that,” Obi-Wan cut you off. “I had to make a life for myself here. I didn’t know what I’d see you again-”

“- I’m not being like anything,” you rolled your eyes. “I just…do you remember that last promise you made to me before we broke up?”

He nodded. “Clear as day. I promised you that I would never love someone as much as I love you - and I’ve kept that promise.”

“I don’t think you have,” you shook your head. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. You love her. I’m not fucking blind.”

Obi-Wan stood up and crossed the room to where you were standing. It felt weird to be near you again. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug you; it’s what he’d been craving for yours. Not just someone’s touch, but your touch. You’d been a pillar in his life and now that you were gone, he’d felt everything crumbling down to the very core. 

“Maybe some part of me was just hoping that you’d wait for me,” you murmured. “I know it’s ridiculous. I just think that you might be the very best thing that ever happened to me and even when you’re gone, I’m still foolish enough to cling onto hope.”

“It was circumstantial,” he began. “She lives three doors down. We met and we got on and it made sense for us to start dating. You can see that my life here is a little lacklustre. I thought it might bring excitement.”

“Did it?”

Obi shook his head. “Not in the slightest. She’s nice but she doesn’t get me the way you did. I don’t think anyone ever will - so I might look at her with affection but I can assure you that I will never love anyone the way I love you.”

Love. In the present tense. Not the past. The Jedi were in the past. The Republic was in the past. Everything was in the past. But seemingly, not his love for you, nor your love for him. It might have been dormant for a while but it was bright as day now you were together. 

“I’ve spent the last five years chasing a feeling that I can only get with you,” he continued. “Whatever mixture of stress, excitement and terror that may be.”

“Me too,” you said. “Moving on is hard.”

“It is insufferable,” Obi-Wan replied. He took your hands, thumbs ghosting over the back of your palm. “But you have to understand, my love, that moving on is sometimes not a choice so much it is a necessity.”

“I know,” you murmured. “It’s still not safe for us to be together, is it?”

“It’s not,” he confirmed. “And even if it was, what we had is no more. I will undoubtedly take your love with me into the future but our relationship belongs in the past.”

“Right,” you nodded. “Right person, wrong time, I guess.”

“No, not at all - you’re the right person. All the time.”

tags: @hellotherekenobi @frampuccino @currentlysobbingtofortiesmusic

[p-antomime]

i will, my love.

— minors don't interact.

— wc: 4K.

content + warnings: 18+, including: soft dom!suna, pet names, fingering, oral (female), unprotected sex, worship, really soft sex tbh, virginity loss

pairings: boyfriend!suna rintarō x virgin!fem!reader

— haikyuu masterlist.

Your thoughts were eating you up inside. But not quickly, in a way that hardly hurt your soul, but, yes, too slowly, because of this, naturally your body started to work that much harder to get to the end of the day exhausted so that there was no opening for you to think about it.

Y/N was not entirely sure that her boyfriend realized this, but considering how observant he is, it was naturally possible that he was just waiting for a good opportunity to bring up the subject and find out what was making "his princess" so uncomfortable.

In reality, your fear was that Suna thought that the problem was something involving you, or worse, that you were about to break up with him after a long 1 year and four months of dating, but the problem was more specific and, for you, secretly more embarrassing, especially when your friends told you that "you are too old to be a virgin". Every time the group of friends of the two of you got into the subject of "sex life", you walked away and made up a bad excuse to leave the place, sometimes taking Suna along or sometimes leaving him behind; and the few times when there was no way out and the two of you were put up against the wall, Suna would reply that "you're both waiting for the right time" and you could see the look of disappointment not in him, but in his friends.

Suna was extremely patient with you, and although you actually thought it was the least he could do for you as the person he loves, your mind persisted in whispering in your ear that he would get tired of waiting. It wasn't as if Y/N was a holy prude, far from it, but every time he tried to comfort you with his arms around your body while his lips were pressed against yours in a deep and intense kiss and his hips thrust against yours in an attempt to demonstrate that his body needed yours, you felt too eager and refused to move forward with that brief signal; and all these times you could hear Suna in the bathroom using his own hand to masturbate because the walls were so thin in the apartment shared between you and your classmate.

Did you feel guilty for not fucking him during all this time of dating? No... until last week when a girl approached him while you and his friends were leaving for the movies and asked if she could have his number. It wasn't as if Suna had paid any attention to the girl, but you felt as if there were thousands of young girls your age or older ready to give him anything he wanted in a matter of minutes, especially to let you slip between their legs without a care in the world.

And today was the day when Y/N had the day off to do whatever he and his roommate wanted, so it turned out that it didn't take long for Suna Rintarou to be lazily lying on the couch in the living room of the apartment shared between his girlfriend and another girl from her college course while you were looking for a movie for both of you to watch. You could feel his watchful, calm gaze glued to your back, but your body didn't want to turn around to face him.

— What is it? — You asked, still looking at the TV remote control.

— You seem strange these days. — He said, in the same eerily calm tone he always used, he was trying to get you against the wall by using the same old words so as not to make you feel afraid.

— Do I? — It was obvious that you were going to try to talk him out of it, and it wasn't long before you heard a rustle behind you that indicated that Suna was now sitting on the couch instead of lying down, and his hands came down on your shoulders, massaging them lightly; only at that particular moment did you realize how tense they were.

— Do you want to talk about it, or do I need to tear it out of you? I can tickle you until you talk... or kiss you until you suffocate, you choose. — A light laugh escaped his lips and yours fingers briefly unlearned how to flick the TV remote control.

— I've just... been thinking a lot these days, but it's no big deal. — You shrugged your shoulders trying to look nonchalant, but Suna put his hand on your chin and made you face him.

— Really? So, you wouldn't mind repeating that by looking me in the eye, would you? — He raised his eyebrows suggestively, and you frowned.

— You don't believe me?

— Not after watching you act so strange all week, not after yesterday you didn't even want to participate in the video game night at the twins' house. — He leaned his face on her shoulder and frowned. — Tell me what's wrong, and I'll fix it for you. — You bit your lip nervously and chose to look away from the television again. — Has anyone annoyed you this week? Is someone at the college treating you badly? Was it something I did?

Y/N knew that there was a high chance that Suna would throw several questions at her to get to the root of what was being the nuisance as soon as he felt she was comfortable around him, but she didn't expect it to be this soon and that he wouldn't give her time to come up with the slightest plausible excuse.

And after Suna's voice died down, an uneasy, tense silence settled over the room, and you ended up turning around so that you could look at him.

— Does the fact that I didn't want to have sex with you during these months of dating bother you? — It was his turn to feel embarrassed and choke on his own saliva.

— What? — He coughed a few times, feeling as if he had heard you wrong.

— You heard me. — You leaned your arms on his legs and looked at him intently as his calm and serene countenance returned.

— Is this the problem? Lack of sex? I thought you didn't want me to go through with this yet. — His hands brushed against her cheeks and caressed them with his fingertips. — Did you change your mind?

— Answer my question and I'll answer yours.

— It doesn't bother me, really. I will wait for years to have sex with you, if you decide to keep me waiting that long. — Suna answered calmly, and slowly the tension inside you dissolved. — I thought you didn't care so much about this, if you hadn't we would have talked more about it, if you had wanted to.

— I was just... insecure, because you never complain about it, and I feel that your friends look at you like you are with me out of pity every time the topic of "sex" comes up. — Y/N replied returning to focusing on the TV remote. — And... — Her teeth bit the inside of her cheek before her lips whispered more to you than to Suna: —, maybe I changed my mind.

— What, babe? I couldn't hear you properly. — Suna put his arms around your waist and pulled you up, and you felt your cheeks begin to heat up.

— I didn't say anything.

— Repeat what you said before. — His tone dropped an octave and a shiver ran down your back slowly.

— I said I might have changed my mind. — You swallowed hard, staring him straight in the eye for a few seconds before feeling intimidated and staring at the back of the sofa behind him.

— Hmm, really? — Suna rested one hand on your chin while the other rested against your waist to pull you up to sit on his thighs, after which he kissed your lips lightly. — Do you truly want this or are you doing this just because you think it's what I want? — He asked, running his thumb over your lower lip.

— I do. — You answered, shifting into a more comfortable position on his lap and looking down from his eyes to his mouth. — Give me the best of yourself that you can.—  Your hands rested on his shoulders, and the thought of having him freely explore your body made butterflies rise in the pit of your stomach.

— I will, my love. — Suna replied with a slight smile before he really kissed you hard and slowly reached inside your gray tank top with his fingers.

His touch was soft, tender, with fingertips rubbing against the skin of your back slowly, as if massaging it, and then moving down the front of your torso to gently reach your breasts. He was really trying to make you as comfortable as possible, as relaxed as possible, and you couldn't help yourself but have your heart melting under the influence of Suna Rintarou.

When the two of you had to break the kiss because of the missing air, it wasn't long before Suna's lips left wet kisses down your neck and his fingers massaged and squeezed your breasts lovingly before he began to play with your nipples and you gasped because your boyfriend's touch seemed to amplify your own pleasure. It wasn't as if you had never masturbated, quite the opposite in fact, but it was different when another person was touching you.

— Are you sure? — He asked, pulling his lips away from the warm skin of your neck and looking down at you with his hands still around your tits.

— Yes, I'm absolutely sure. — You answered inevitably, forcing your hips against his for more friction. — Please, love. — Your hands reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to expose his upper body.

— Great, babe. — Suna kissed your collarbones and rose from the sofa, pulling you along with him, making you clutch his shoulders in despair at the sudden action. — It would suck if your first time with me was on the living room couch, wouldn't it? — You felt your cheeks heat up and lean your head on his shoulder, nodding positively. — You're my princess, so it's only fair that I treat you like one in the bedroom. — And so he carried you to your room, and when he got there, he locked the door and let you lie on the bed looking at your body intently.

As soon as his hands brushed against your tank top and moved it out of the way, Suna was licking and sucking one of your breasts carefully while his other hand squeezed your other nipple, moans escaping from deep in your throat filled the place obscenely and your head fell back against the pillows as your legs opened to better accommodate your boyfriend's body between them.

— Fuck, you are so beautiful. — Suna whispered, sliding his lips down your abdomen and sending a shiver down your back that made you tangle your fingers in his brown hair and try to force your hips up to signal to him where exactly you needed him. — Don't be impatient, I need to take my time with you, it's your first time. — He kissed lightly on the top point of her pelvis and her body shivered.

In the next few seconds, Suna was undoing your thin pajama shorts and leaving you in only your panties while his fingers ghosted down your knees and thighs slowly. The anticipation and expectation were eating you up inside and it was inevitable that high-pitched moans would come from your lips, your body was literally burning for him and your vision seemed about to go blurry at any moment. And he hadn't even done anything sexual with you yet.

— It's so easy to get you horny it's almost cute. — Suna murmured more to himself than to you as he kissed your covered pussy and made you squirm.

Over the fabric of your panties, he gave you a gentle lick along the entire area of your intimacy before actually moving it out of the way and slowly pushing your folds apart. It was almost as if you had been longing for years to belong to him, and Suna couldn't help himself before grunting and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. The wave of pleasure that washed over your body was intense enough to make you arch your back painfully and pull his hair tightly as loud moans came from your lips.

— So sweet, I've been thinking about your pussy for so long. — Suna said before he gave a few more licks against your intimacy and entered your interior with just one finger slowly, but he stopped in the middle of the process when he heard a low grunt of pain coming from you, probably because his finger was longer than yours and reached places that had not been widened before. — Tell me if it hurts too much, I can go slower on you, my love. — He kissed your inner left thigh lightly and slowly continued to put his finger in, only to let you get used to it.

— Can you move... please? — You asked breathlessly, propping yourself up on your elbows.

— Sure. — Suna answered with a loving look before he began to move his finger slowly inside you and feeling his own arousal increase as he saw your face contort with pleasure before your head fell back again.

As he increased the speed of that single finger and analyzed your expressions of pleasure and your thrusts of trying to force your hips up for more friction, Suna slowly introduced a second digit into you and massaged your clit with the thumb of that same hand. His lips left biting and sucking on your thighs with no intention of actually marking them, only to make you lose yourself further in pure lust. Minutes later, when your moans already indicated that your insides had gotten used to the widening of two fingers, a third one was introduced and slowly your boyfriend began to really build up a rhythm that made your mind forget absolutely everything. There was only: Suna Rintarou and his ambition to make you feel good.

— Damn, you're so beautiful, I could pleasure you for hours and never get tired of looking at your beautiful face. You're my pretty girl, aren't you? — You couldn't formulate a coherent sentence, not when his fingers were curving in that overpowering way inside you. — Always so good for me, so sweet for me. — Suna took your clit between his lips gently before he began to use his fingers to make scissor-like movements to widen your insides as much as possible.

— Fuck, babe... — You gasped, feeling the same pressure in your lower abdomen that was present every time you were about to cum using your own fingers. — It's s-so good, please... I... — Your train of thought short-circuited as your boyfriend's licks on your clit became more consistent and responsive, your hips thrusting upward frantically.

— Yes, my love, I know, cum for me. I know you want to. — He responded by increasing the speed of the fingers inside you.

A few more thrusts widening your insides were enough to have you collapsing against your boyfriend's body, breath panting, eyes rolling and hands desperately trying to grab hold of any piece of his skin you could get your hands on. You were finished, to say the least. The feeling of having someone making you cum, especially with fingers much longer than yours own, was overwhelmingly different than having you touch yourself. Suna had never pleasured you in that direct way before, so he needed to assess your expressions and body language to know what made you most comfortable, but it only took seconds before he adjusted the right pressure and rhythm to have you completely melting.

— You're such a good girl to me, I love you. — Your boyfriend slowly withdrew his fingers from inside you and moved from between your legs to plant kisses on the surface of your belly while complimenting you in the best possible ways, even though your mind was too busy recovering from the recent orgasm to actually pay attention to what Suna was saying. — Do you think you can handle cumming one more time for me, or do you want me to stop? — He asked, holding her face between his hands after leaving several light kisses all over her cheeks and lips.

— I-I can, yes, don't stop. I want more.

— What a good princess. — Suna whispered against yours lips opening a loving smile and it was almost as if it was possible to see hearts drawing in his pupils.

After that, the rest of his clothes were spread out on the floor around the bed and maybe, just maybe, an apprehension settled inside you as your eyes traveled down your boyfriend's athletic and now naked body and found the length of his cock. He was definitely above average and this made you unconsciously drag your body away a little, which did not go unnoticed by Suna, who put his hands on your lower back and squeezed it lightly as if to reassure you.

— Do you trust me? — He asked, leaning over your body and pulling you close again, your response was a slight positive nod. — If I said it wouldn't hurt, I'd be lying, but if you need me to stop, let me know. Don't be afraid to let me know everything you're feeling, okay, my love?

You responded with a minimal "Yes, Suna" to him and rested your hands on his shoulders, inevitably digging your nails into them as you felt him spread your legs to wrap them around his waist and place the tip of his cock against your entrance. He rubbed his cock between your folds a few times before holding you firmly and slowly invading your interior. You could feel every inch, every vein, but for the first few seconds the pain overpowered the pleasure and small tears rolled down your cheeks. You felt extremely breathless, as if your body was going to break, so Suna leaned over your body to wipe away yours tears with kisses and leaned his forehead against yours without being able to hold back a low grunt from the pleasure of having you squeeze him hard and the pain of feeling your nails raking the skin of his shoulders.

— My beautiful girl, relax, trust me. — He whispered, sliding his mouth down your neck and massaging your back gently. — You can relax for me, can't you? You can be a good girl for me, can't you? — His eyes were staring into yours seriously.

— Y-Yes, Suna, I can... just... — Your breath caught in throat as you felt him slowly continue to fill your insides until he could make you swallow him down. — Give me a few minutes, I'll be your good girl.

— Of course you will. — Suna stood completely still inside you, kissed your collarbones and licked your breasts lightly, never stoping to massage your lower back to give you the comfort he knew you needed.

Leaning your head against the pillows, you concentrated on making the feeling of discomfort and pain gradually disappear. Slowly your body began to move back and forth until you became accustomed to the presence of Suna's cock stretching you completely. Yours senses began to want more of that pleasurable impact, and soon the same spasms as before began to run through your back again.

— S-Suna? — You called him slyly and in a slurred voice. — C-Can you move, please?

— Sure, babe, anything for you. — He pulled you into a deep, loveable kiss before holding your face between his hands and beginning to move inside you, he was trying to analyze your expressions before he began to build up a proper pace.

Suna found that his girlfriend liked it too much when he arched his hips and came hard inside her, but came out slowly, in contrasting movements, so he did this several times just to see you squirming and begging for more of him. It was music to his ears. Your boyfriend's hands lodged around your waist and assisted you in moving back and forth on his dick as his knees rested against the mattress of the bed. At no time did he stop worshipping you and calling you affectionate nicknames through whispers in yours ears that would hardly be heard outside the room because of the sound of the bed banging against the wall and the moans coming out of your mouth.

The pleasure was overwhelming all of your ability to think rationally and yours lips were too busy alternating between giving lewd kisses against Suna's and taking light bites all over his neck. You could literally feel every bit of his skin against yours and it was driving you madder than you could or wanted to admit. The words of love he whispered to you were the complete opposite of his deep, strong thrusts inside you. But, as the minutes passed and your own boyfriend couldn't contain the erratic movements of his cock inside you, he switched positions leaving you on top of him. For the first few seconds your body almost came to a complete standstill with the new depth attained by his entire length and you couldn't help having curses come out of your mouth.

— I-It's so good... — Your body moved up and down against his cock slowly, wanting to prolong that feeling of having him stretching you. Watching you intently, Suna thrusts hard while holding your hips and moaned in unison with you because of the delicious sensation.

— Damn, you're so tight, you take me so well. — He pulled your torso to lean against his and let you partially lie on his body before he began thrusting himself deep inside you, hitting all the right spots inside you.

Everything about him seemed to push you to climax faster than you thought possible. Face flushed slightly, chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes half-closed, shoulders tense and mouth ajar to try to draw in more air. He looked more handsome than usual and completely given to you. That was definitely the man of your life; that's what was resonating in your mind as the tip of Suna's cock began to rub against your cervix and make you lose your head completely, finally reaching your second orgasm that had already left your senses bewildered, considering it was only your first time.

Suna still had so much to show you, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't excited by the idea of helping you figure out what you liked and didn't like about sex, but by now you were exhausted, so he ended up giving you just a few more thrusts against your walls that squeezed him deliciously before he pulled out and ended up cumming all over his own abdomen and soiling your thighs with some of his cum as well. You staggered to the side and he quickly helped you lie down on the bed as comfortably as possible, for a few seconds neither of you said anything, your boyfriend wanted you to first get your breath completely back.

— Did I hurt you? — He leaned on your shoulders and looked at you intently. — It was... — You interrupted him with a quick little kiss and smiled fondly.

— It was wonderful, I swear. It was better than I thought it would be, in fact, I thought it would hurt more. — It was hard to see Suna's cheeks flush, and this moment will go down in your memory as one of the few times your boyfriend was embarrassed. — I love you, you're perfect for me.

And after the two of you spent long seconds lying in bed exchanging kisses and caresses, Suna induced you to go take a shower with him to clean yourself and then "you both could do whatever you wanted for the rest of the day", because, he said during the shower:, aftercare was important, especially for "his princess”.

[diaco1968]

Payback is as cold as steel

Mini nsfw stories where you take your revenge on the boys (Bakugou, Izuku, Todoroki and Shinsou), for this

WARNING! nsfw, smut, a bunch of kinks like biting, orgasm denial, overstimulation.

Everyone is aged up and are adults.

Bakugou Katsuki

How did he manage to land in this mess? Agreeing to wear this stupid quirk nullifying collar to be on fair grounds with you for physical training, like a total idiot. You had fooled him.

His arms ached from being stretched over the chair and tied up behind his back by nothing other than his own belt. His neck and shoulders were wet and stinging, littered by your little bitemarks, red and purple.

Panting and sweaty as a string of muffled swears and threats left his lips, from his 5th denied orgasm when your hips stopped moving over the bulge in his undone jeans once again.

"Looks like the biting and barking roles are reversed, Katsu. Are you ready to say it now?"

He glared up at you as you looked down on him affectionately with your smug smile, running your fingers through his hair, almost soothingly. As if he'd believe your false sweet demeanor. Mean little demon, you.

Your fingers undid the muzzle behind his head and let it fall off his mouth and chin, around his neck and onto his chest, him taking in a deep unfiltered gulp of fresh air.

"Well?"

He bucked his hips up into yours but you didn't budge at all, moaning playfully and rolling your hips onto his teasingly, knowing his latest orgasm was too far gone already for him to be able to chase it like that. That only added fuel to his fiery rage, even if there was a chance he was going to open his mouth to beg, it was gone now.

"I'm gonna get my hands on you eventually, (y/n), and when I do, I'll make sure that by the time I'm done with you, you won't be able to walk straight for a month."

The somehow none yelling calm way in which he said it actually shook you to your already dripping core. But it was too late to back down now anyway.

"Wrong answer." You rolled your eyes and put the muzzle back over his mouth, strapping it tightly behind his head. He hissed and growled as you leaned in scraping your teeth over his neck, hips beginning to move, grinding over him roughly, before suddenly sinking your teeth into his shoulder, hearing the sound of his sharp inhale from between the little gaps of the muzzle.

Shoto Todoroki

At that moment, he should've known. The look of utter betrayal was what was written all over his mostly expressionless face as he watched the plot unfold in front of his eyes, the moment your fingers wrapped around his tie delicately, undoing it, very slowly pulling it off of him, letting it slide around his neck softly.

Then you didn't discard it like you usually would. Pure mischief flashing behind shiny (e/c) eyes as you straddled his kness tightly smirking down at him, while he was absolutely helpless in his position on the bed, half sitting, back leaning on the headboard, his hands cuffed up aboved his head keeping him up right.

How many times has it been already? You edging him on till he was more than ready to cum, but couldn't and then you stopping to let him cool off a bit. He hadn't bothered to keep count, hoping his negotiation with you would work each and every time, but as he glared at you panting and sweating and gritting his teeth it was obvious you had other plans.

"What is it Shoto? You want something?"

You hummed dragging your thumb over his slit, smearing the precum around, his shaft throbbing under your touch, an angry red and ready to explode at any time. Only if the tie wasn't wrapped around the base so tightly as a makeshift cock ring.

In yet another futile attempt to reach you, he jerked his arms forward, the metal of the cuffs clinking and the headboard creaked before hitting back on the wall with a loud bang. "Fucking hell..." he hissed as you laughed and grabbed his cock again and started stroking it "these quirk cancelling cuffs are pretty amazing, huh?" His negotiation patience flew out the window as he resorted to threats "when I get out of these cuffs, I'm going to hold you down and fuck the shit out of you, till you can't form a single coherent thought, (y/n)." He growled out and you only grinned at him, a shiver running down your spine knowing he would hold true to his words, you leaned in whispering right into his ear in a breathy voice "If you get out of them Sho~" you tightened the tie around your wrist and pulled it a little tighter.

He let his head drop back in between his stretched up arms on the headboard, glaring at the ceiling before shutting his eyes tight and moaning when you resumed your onslaught on his poor overstimulated cock, bucking his hips involuntarily into your touch.

Izuku Midoriya

The moment he stepped in through the doors, you had pulled him inside by his collar and shut the door, slamming him back into the wall.

The way his green eyes turned wide with worry before he realised what was going on when you crashed your lips onto his, added to your desire to mess him up even more.

He looked relieved only for a second, before his expression twisted into a knowing one as you slapped his hand away harshly when he reached out to hold your hips. He whimpered at the sting of your teeth on his lower lip as you bit and tugged on it when you pulled back from the kiss, your hand reaching down and cupping his dick through his pants roughly, him letting out a surprised mewl.

"You will be touching what I tell you, when I tell you  to. Got it, hero?"

He looked at you through half lidded eyes, pupils dilated, already breathless and panting for air "But!-" you gripped his jaw with your free hand forcing him to be quiet "you're going to be a good boy for me, Deku, right?"

He watched you and your eyes intently for a few seconds before nodding his head. That was a couple of hours ago. Now he was leaning back full weight on the wall behind him, dishelved and a hot mess, with your lips wrapped around his cock, sucking his soul out, again and again with no break.

His thighs quivering and legs were shaking, barely able to hold himself up, his head dropping back and hitting the wall with a soft thud as he let out a high pitched exhale that turned into a long loud moan, his hands turning into fists on the wall behind him , knuckles turning white as he came again with nothing coming out, dry as they come.

"Shit! P-please (y/n)! I c-can't anymore... please!" He begged once again almost sobbing from the intense pleasure as he looked down at you for mercy, with you enjoying the number 1 hero, Deku, turning into a loud begging moaning mess under your touch.

Shinsou Hitoshi

Your silence was killing him, crushing his hopes with every passing moment and every time your evil grin faded from his watery vision due to the intense pleasure. Before it all got ripped away from him before he could grasp his now much desired release. "Ah! Fuck! Come on!" He whined and groaned as he tried catching his breath, defeatedly looking at the ceiling before his eyes snapped back on your grin and your unusually quiet chuckle.

Why would you not slip and make a sound in his reply!

It had been a simple request he would have never thought to result in this outcome of all things;

"Hitoshi? Can you do me a favour?" You had kindly hugged him from behind and was now playfully tugging on his arms, to make him turn around, he assumed.

Oh how wrong he was.

"Keep your eyes on mine to the end and it will all be over."

You had said just as you pulled both his arms behind his back, tying them tight and pushing him back on the bed.

That was the last thing he heard you say.

No matter how he prodded at your pride, your conscience, your logic. You wouldn't budge to reply to him, as you gave him a sweet smile while placing the little vibrating buds on his cock securely before walking away, swaying your hips as you showed him the controller between your thumb and forefinger.

"That's a coward move you're pulling, kitten. Never took you for a- Gah!"

You turned the vibrator on, straight on it's highest setting, shrughing your shoulders and smiling at him innocently when he glared at you.

That was an hour and quite a few denied orgasms ago. The thought made him huff out loud.

"You will regret-Ngh! I'm sorry!"

He whimpered as the buzzing sound filled his ears again. He had forgotten threatening was no way to go. It was a simple request; He would have to keep his eyes open and keep them on yours the whole time. He had never thought eye contact with you would be such a hard task to complete.

[sachirou-senpai]

Never let me go - Tanaka Ryuunosuke x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF!!! it's so cute omg. friends to lovers (my favorite troupe!!!) kinda n*fw cause like dry humping but it's really not that intense. i love Tanaka with all of my soul and I'm really proud of this so please hype it up for me. 💞💞

A/n: I'm so soft for Tanaka. Oh my god.

You and Tanaka Ryuunosuke were glued at the hip. It was to be expected, considering you'd both been friends since you were born. Your closeness was envied by lots of people- especially Saeko who claimed he loved you more than her. No matter what, you two were inseparable.

Every Friday night, Tanaka would come over to your house- or vice versa- to watch some sort of absolutely terrible movie. Low-budget action, disgusting romance, and sometimes even crazy conspiracy movies. It was a tradition the two of you had gotten used to, and it was always a perfect way to end your week. No amount of schoolwork, bullying or long practice hours could be worried about when the two of you were together, watching junk movies and eating equally junky food. You always made sure to keep your Friday nights going- unless one of you was out of town or he was at training camp. Not that either of those things would really stop you, because FaceTime was a thing and you two used it far more than you'd both like to admit. You were practically addicted to each other. Always talking, always texting, and more than often, always touching.

Recently though, the touches had gotten more intense. Holding hands while you walked home, long hugs every morning and night, and surprisingly intimate cuddles every Friday. The movies had changed, too. Instead of watching the action ones, like Tanaka usually preferred, you had started watching more and more romance ones. All terrible, mind you. But you felt like it was doing something to you. Of course, you'd always been slightly attracted to your tall and muscular friend, I mean who wouldn't be? Something about watching all the romance movies was really doing something to you, though. You tried to convince yourself that it was just the movies, that you weren't falling for your best friend. You were not going to be one of those girls, who falls for their best friend and has to watch them grow up and fall in love with another woman. That thought was the only thing that kept you sane, and you're pretty sure if you weren't so afraid of losing Tanaka, you would've just confessed to him already. Wait confessed? You don't even like him. You jump in shock, startling yourself out of your thoughts.

"Woah, you okay there?" Tanaka's voice makes you jump again, causing you to suddenly remember where you were- in your crushes lap! You flush a deep red and thank God for the dim lights. "I- uh, yes, I'm fine," you sputter out. "You sure about that? You're looking a little flustered," he says in a teasing voice. "I mean, c'mon it's not even that realistic. Cocking your head at him, you turn your head back to the TV. You regret doing so, your entire body going rigid. You're pretty sure you forgot how to breathe, because there, on the TV, was one of the steamiest sex scenes you've ever seen in your life. "Oh! Oh, my god, I didn't even see that!" You immediately turn back around and bury your head in Tanaka's shoulder, blushing furiously. His laugh rings out, partially tuning out the rather lewd moans. "You sure, princess?" You heat up even further, because there's that nickname again.

It happened sometime around the beginning of high school, after he saw you in a princess dress. To be fair, it was a Friday night, and you should have expected him to come over, but you were so engrossed in playing princess with your little cousin, you completely forgot. So the nickname stuck. And god, it did things to you. Your face never failed to flush when you heard it, and you cursed yourself for letting it get to you so easily. His arms running up and down yours sides bring you out of your thoughts, and voice calms you down even further. "Hey, let's turn it off, okay? We can watch something else, no problem." Reaching for the remote, he turns the movie off, beginning to browse for something else. You're straddling him now, and you begin to feel the exhaustion set into your body. Being so close to him made you feel so safe, and so, so sleepy. "Can we just sleep? I don't wanna watch anything else," you say, slowly beginning to slur your words. He smiles at you, god, he's so in love with you. "Whatever you want, princess."

There was no doubt, he knew what that nickname did to you, which is why he always used it. There was nothing sweeter in the world to him than your blush. No candy, not even pure sugar. Yes, Tanaka was in love with his best friend, that much was clear. It wasn't until Nishinoya caught on and forced him to act on his feelings that he actually fully came to terms with it. The team assured him that you were just as much in love with him as he was you- even Tsukishima gave a surprisingly convincing nod. That alone would have been enough to convince him. So he did. Romantic movies, nearly excessive skinship, meaningful glances and of course the use of his favorite nickname. He wasn't sure it was working, but then again, here he was, with you in his arms. Looking down at you, he stills when he realizes you're sleeping, careful not to disturb you. He figures now is a better time than any to tell you how he feels, so kissing your head, he takes a deep breath.

"I love you. I love you so, so much. I've loved you for so long it just feels like second nature at this point. I can't imagine a life without loving you." Pausing, he chuckles. "And I don't mean platonic love. No, I Tanaka Ryuunosuke have fallen head over heels in love with my best friend. It's nearly embarrassing- not that you're embarrassing, not at all. I just didn't expect to be one of those people to fit into such a stereotypical troupe, y'know? That's the embarassing part. Oh, and before you even think about it, yes, I'm going to be one of those self-sacrificial guys, the ones that are like 'I just want to see you happy.' If you don't return my feelings, of course. If you do feel the same though, I'll promise you this- I'm never letting you go." Tears are streaming down his face now, but he doesn't care. Nor does he make any move to wipe them off- no- he's not letting you go, not while he still has you.

Caught up in his confession, he doesn't feel you freeze. You were never asleep to begin with, just too shocked to move. Your heart is beating a million miles an hour, the love of your life just poured his heart out, never expecting you to hear any of what he said. You take a couple deep breaths to calm your racing heart. You know exactly what to do. Leaning up and grabbing his face, you say with as much conviction in your voice as possible: "Tanaka Ryuunosuke, don't you dare let me go."

And with that, you bring your lips to his. You've never felt anything more passionate in your life, you're absolutely certain you're going to faint. It's a perfect harmony, lips on lips. It's everything you've ever wanted, and little do you know he feels the exact same. He pulls you closer in an attempt to close the already practically non-existent gap between you, successfully grinding your hips together. The whine you let out is nothing short of sinful and he knows he has to hear more. With one hand on your face and the other on you hip, he helps you grind against him. When you break the kiss only to bring your lips down his jaw, he absolutely short-circuits. He lets out a breathy moan which only spurs you on further, kissing farther down his neck and lightly sucking a mark into his skin. Both lf his hands are on your waist now, grinding you down with much more fevor and desperation. It's practically heavenly. Sure, you've been aroused before, but it's never been like this, you feel like you're on fire.

You know you could continue like this forever, or at least until one of you came in your pants, but you stop him. It's only because you've realized it's probably not appropriate to be dry humping your childhood friend and longtime crush in his living room, especially not when his parents and sister were home. But of course, it's far too late for that, because Saeko has already walked in on the two of you locking lips.

"FUCK YEAH!" She screams. "I fucking called it! Mom! Dad! They finally fucking got together! It's only been like 8 years since you've been in love with her, right? It's about fucking time! Wait, you're together right? Ryuunosuke, I swear if you don't make her your girlfriend I will make your life a living hell." The two of you practically jump apart, shocked and thoroughly embarrassed. All you can do is stare at him in awe. "Eight years? You've been in love with me for eight years?" Your voice is barely a whisper, but you know he can hear it. He looks right into your eyes, and you're overwhelmed by the sheer amount of love in his gaze.

"Yes. Best eight years of my life."

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