#and i need to be forced into working on an assortment of them lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

benjaminthewolf · 2 years ago

Text

D-Side BF Lol

Well, another one of @starlightgirl242 's Monday Night Munchin' requests are complete! I hope all you MNM fans out there are excited! Enjoy!

Edit: Why is this post showing up just fine in literally every other tag EXCEPT the "Monday Night Munchin" tag? The one without the apostrophe...like bruh...

Edit 2: Apparently it’s a technical issue, probably on the side of Tumblr’s desktop/computer version. Still annoying, but at least I know it’s working on mobile. ****

“...so I was just chillin’ there in my paraglider, right? But then all of a sudden I see this giant-ass Seagull coming up towards me from the right, and apparently the stupid thing didn’t have the common sense to just stop flying forwards…or it just had terrible reflexes…or it didn’t care…but whatever, the dumbass Seagull ended up crashing straight into me, and then it shat itself and went tumbling into the ocean. Don’t worry, though, none of the poop got on me. But yeah, anyway…”

Just as you had done before within the many, manny, many days gone by where you had enough time and energy to hang out with him, D-Side BF had been contentedly jabbering on to you about his wild, assorted misadventures, everything from going caving, to visiting a volcano, to attending various conventions, whilst the two of you casually strolled along the city sidewalks on the way to your chosen destination. Attempting, yet failing, to hold in a rather powerful bout of undoubtedly immature laughter after hearing about the Seagull’s reaction to the mid-air collision, you eventually eventually managed to gesture towards D-Side BF to keep going after managing to pull yourself back together, causing your chaotic, purple buddy to give a gaggling giggle himself.

Once he, too, had gotten all the funnies out of his system, D-Side BF naturally proceeded to take in a deep breath in order to proceed with his rambling, and continue on with what had happened upon that wondrous day at the beach as a result…before seemingly out of absolute nowhere, a rather abrupt, deep, growling, and gurgling noise piped up to interrupt him. At least, it appeared to be from absolutely nowhere to you. This was until, of course, D-Side BF came to a halt right there upon the rugged, filthy city sidewalk, in order to give a good poke to his middle, with a rather displeased look on his face to go with it.

“Hey! Be quiet down there!” he brazenly scolded his belly whilst giving it a second poke, causing you to give a stifled chortle once more.

“...as I was saying, I was-”

Yet another bout of growling, and one that appeared to be slightly louder than the bout before, at that, promptly forced its owner to quiet down yet again, before aggressively striking the organ with his finger one more time.

“Hey! I said shut up down there! The candy store’s just a few more crosswalks away! You don’t need to keep whining like that!”

D-Side BF proceeded to stay in that same, annoyed position until he was absolutely, positively sure that his tummy had gotten the message.

“...but yeah, later that day, I got to go scuba diving, and I was able to come across a group of sharks! Or like…what’s a group of sharks called? A pod? No, that’s dolphins. Maybe a school? ‘Cause they are just large fish afterall. Ah, whatever. The point is, I was swimming all among them, and then…wait.”

The following bout of lighthearted teasing that resulted from this single verbal mistake would, indeed, continue on until you and D-Side BF had finally reached the candy store doors, at which point you were forced to calm down in order to not get kicked out of the establishment, much to your friend’s great relief.

****

The instant that those candy store doors swung open, and you and D-Side BF stepped inside, things went just about how the old metaphor implies, even though one would be forgiven from thinking that you and D-Side BF were kids from just how excentric the two of you were acting, D-Side BF in particular because of his height. Regardless, the unspoken rule was more so that you couldn’t make too many verbal distractions, something which the aforementioned teasing would’ve crossed the line of, rather than just be pretty jittery. This, plus the fact that the two of you did indeed have money meant that you and D-Side BF were still able to snag up your candy from the shelves without much issue to speak of.

The candy store in question was named “Confetti Candy Carnival”, and had gone with the more bright and colorful, kid-attracting theme, rather than a more old-timey nostalgia based theme for a more generalized audience. (Another reason one could think you two were kids). This choice was because the store was near a large apartment complex, where naturally, a great number of small children lived. With vibrant pink and purple stripes lining the walls, displays such as a giant plastic gummy bear holding a bowl full of gummy bear packages (even though that’s a little messed up upon deeper thought), and happy, upbeat music playing overhead, you and D-Side BF swiftly filled up your arms with everything from peanut butter cups to sour gummies; glow-in-the-dark jelly beans to soda-flavored gum; chocolate-caramel cubes to peppermint disks; and black licorice ropes to flower-shaped lollipops.

When the two of you had finally rung up all your stuff, promising the cashier you would space out all the treats as well as you could, the doors were once again flung open, and the two of you at last began your trek back to D-Side BF’s place to hang out for the rest of the day.

****

Approximately five minutes into said stroll back to D-Side BF’s place, the two of you had taken note of a public city bench in the distance, and ended up deciding amongst yourselves to rest there for the moment being. This did come with a little back and forth teasing along the lines of “Sugar crash already?” and “Fat person moment.”, all with an overarching lighthearted tone, of course, whilst you sat yourself down on the left side and D-Side BF on the right (relative to the front of the bench). But ultimately, once you had gotten yourselves all settled, the both of you did have to admit that it did feel nice to just sit down and enjoy your stash for a moment, causing you to delve right back into your casual ramblings of conversation as a result. Though most of the “conversing” was to be done by D-Side BF, of course. But it wasn’t like that bothered you. Not at all! You quite enjoyed hearing what D-Side BF had to say, especially considering all the ridiculous conundrums he always got himself into, as an individual radiating the energy of a true chaotic neutral.

“So there I was, face-to-face with that buck. I was just giving him a glare saying: ‘If you even dare thrust those antlers at me, I will personally ram you into a tree and stick those antlers inside its trunk, and then you’ll be easy pickings for any random lucky lone wolf or something’-wait a second does that lollipop actually have the power to shrink people, or is it that just a marketing thing?”

The lollipop in sudden question was one of the flower-shaped lollipops you had picked up at the store. This particular pop was called the “Shrinking Violet”, and possessed a grape soda flavor. It also purported to have the ability to shrink those who consumed it, a claim which was rather perplexing to D-Side BF.

“I mean I know that if you’re clever enough about it, you can get away with some pretty ridiculous shit when it comes to marketing, but…something like that?”

To D-Side BF’s bewilderment, you could only give a friendly shrug, acknowledging your own incredulity, before hastily removing the lollipop’s wrapper, and shoving it into your mouth.

“Well, I guess the only way to find out for sure is to eat it.” D-Side BF ultimately concluded before promptly continuing on with his story about the aggressive buck.

Whilst D-Side BF went on with that, you were naturally simultaneously preoccupied with the lollipop in your mouth. The flavor was of a very sharp concentration of grape soda flavor, similar to a grape jolly rancher, except a lot more sweet. Shifting around the melting piece of candy in your mouth as it left a fine, sticky, grape-flavored stain on the right side of your tongue, you began pondering just when and how the shrinking would set in if indeed the lollipop’s package was factual. Swiftly shrugging again, as you knew that you would be given your answer soon enough, you merely continued to suck on the lollipop, allowing the rich, sugary flavor to positively melt into your taste buds as you did.

“...so eventually, I just ended up running towards the river. It wasn’t like, a particularly fast one, or a particularly wide one, but it was just fast enough and just wide enough to deter the buck from going across, whilst I could swim through it no problem. And so, I ended up escaping after all. Even though I did get all wet.”

Concluding the buck story with a nice and poignant “Yeah, fuck that buck. Hey, that rhymed!”, D-Side BF was finally able to notice that you had taken the lollipop stick out of your mouth by this point, promptly continuing to watch as you successfully tossed the thing into the trashcan next to your side of the bench before taking a glance down at the wrapper which was still present in your hands.

“So…feel anything different yet?”

You were just about to reply with a slightly disappointed “Well, no, not yet…” before all of a sudden, it happened.

Neither you nor D-Side BF could scarcely believe the accuracy of what your own senses were telling you as the shrinking process finally began, right before your two sets of working eyes; but, suffice it to say, that it took quite a while for the both of you to regain your bearings after such an unexpectedly astounding surprise, not just so you could process the shock, but also so you could process your exhilaration.

“...no…fucking…way…” D-Side BF decided to break the silence at last, whilst slowly lowering his left hand down towards your shrunken form. You, now at the size of a peppermint, swiftly clamored into the center of the palm, and off of the lollipop wrapping which you had previously been holding as such. D-Side BF proceeded to lift you up in his left hand, whilst reaching over for the wrapper with his right. Once he had finally brought both hands up to eye-level, he had finally pulled himself back together to the point where he could formulate full sentences again.

“I guess the package really wasn’t lying! Huh!” he managed to conclude to himself, before picking himself up off the bench in order to make his way over to the trash can and throw the now unneeded wrapper away.

“Welp! I guess this means you’re getting a free ride all the way home!” D-Side BF at last deduced whilst gathering up the candy stash into the bags in order to carry them all in his right hand. “Lucky.” he lightheartedly added on a tease at the end.

And with that, D-Side BF was just about to place your tiny form upon his shoulder where you could ride upon his giant body more comfortably, and also so he could use both hands to carry the candy bags, before, in yet another display of outside forces activating the both of your jolting, immediate, instinctive, and primal instincts to freeze in paralyzing shock, sending a horrid jolt of terror down both of your petrified spines.

Once the eardrum-bursting boom of the thunder had rolled its way off into the endlessness of the rapidly darkening sky, and the both of you were once again able to properly think and function, D-Side BF glances up towards the graying azure, observing as a result the briskness at which the storm clouds were gathering. It would then only take a couple more seconds, before the reality fully set in.

“We…” he shakily stuttered, his mind still considerably scrambled from the recent chilling panic. “We-We need to get you somewhere safe. The rain’ll be a lot more dangerous for someone your size, and I…I’m not taking any chances…” he allowed his lightly quivering voice to trail off.

“But where…” he eventually continued on, glancing down at your form with a soft and worried gaze. “Where do I-”

And then, a significantly more tame, yet undeniably recognized noise emulated out from D-Side BF’s midsection.

And yet, this time, it was no unwelcome sound by a longshot, and the gears in D-Side BF’s head, as well as yours, promptly began turning.

“D-do you think…” D-Side BF begins sheepishly suggesting after a good, long moment of thinking. “Do you think you’d be…comfortable? Um…in there?”

You could not have given a quicker, more affirmative, yet more understanding cry of “Of course!” if you tried. Upon hearing this response in such a manner, D-Side BF appeared to subconsciously blush from all of the much-needed, friendly affection for a second, considering the horrific startle the two of you had just experienced together, before immediately snapping back into conscious thought barely an instant later, giving his now slightly embarrassed body a light shake, whilst reminding himself just why he needed to do this in the first place.

Upon said reminder, then, D-Side BF recognized that it would be best to get you down there as soon as was possible for the both of you. Thus, he hastily raised up his hand to his mouth, gave a slight head cock over to you to confirm you were going to be okay, before, upon receiving yet another affirmative answer, taking in and out a deep breath, and finally unveiling his maw.

A few goopy tendrils of saliva promptly break apart as the squishy, pink maw of D-Side BF lies open and gaping before you, his smoothened, slimy tongue extending outwards in order to bridge the gap between his palm and the inside of his warm maw. Quickly shuffling on your hands and knees up and along the bridge of the tongue, before breaching the natural barrier of D-Side BF’s lips, (being mindful of his sharp teeth as you do), the dramatic difference in temperature proceeds to strike your skin almost immediately. The warm, cozy atmosphere of the air up against the cold, and now, considerably windy, storm-brewing outside world is what cues you to scramble all the way inside and onto the middle of the tongue so that D-Side BF would be able to close his maw.

Hastily shifting some of the bags in his right hand to his left, before beginning to walk once more, so the two of you would be able to get back to his place faster, D-Side BF then raises up the roof of his mouth so you on the inside wouldn’t feel as cramped, before lifting his salivating tongue up just slightly so he could gently slide you on down towards his gullet.

You, upon realizing that D-Side BF is indeed considerably anxious to get you down to his stomach, so he could be absolutely, positively sure you were safe, swiftly squish yourself down and gently nuzzle your cheek upon the sleek surface of his tongue in appreciation of his loving concern. Wrapping your arms all around the pink muscle before carefully squeezing it tight, you only hold this state for just long enough so that D-Side BF could understand the message you were trying to send, quickly unraveling yourself from the muscle after the moment had passed, and finally allowing the law of gravity to aid you on your journey as you cautiously slid your way down D-Side BF’s slippery tongue, down past his plump, dangling uvula, and into his gullet as such.

D-Side BF wastes absolutely zero time before lifting up his chin just slightly, and gently gulping you down. For you on the inside, as your head was practically shoved right inside of the upper esophageal sphincter, you were able to see D-Side BF’s epiglottis covering up the entrance to his windpipe, as the powerful muscles of said sphincter immediately squeezed you down into his purple esophagus.

A few seconds after, as he is able to feel the slight bulge squelching its way down his throat, D-Side BF heaves out a hefty sigh, knowing that now, he had done all that he could, and that it was time for his body to handle the rest.

Meanwhile, back on the inside of the relatively gigantic man, the constant, soothing, almost massage-like motions of peristalsis consistently compressed the smooth, cushiony esophageal walls up against your body, before shoving you forwards through its muscular tube, releasing the walls’ hold for a moment, and finally, starting all over again. With such rhythmic bodily contractions, it wouldn’t be very long before you had disappeared behind D-Side BF’s collarbone, leaving you able as such, to faintly pick up the pounding of his heartbeat, something which would only grow louder and louder as time marched on and you were shoved deeper and deeper into your giant friend’s body.

Eventually, after quite some time of being squeezed and squelched through the natural, tight, heated tunnel, you were able to gain sight of the lower esophageal sphincter, leaving you fated to be shoved out into D-Side BF’s stomach by the powerful shove of the natural valve as such, before subsequently splash landing into the harmless liquids within.

Swiftly sitting up inside the tummy before giving your body a slight dog-like shake and shuffling on over to the stomach wall in order to lay yourself up against it, you casually squish yourself into, before subsequently nuzzling against the cushiony muscle, softly exhaling a sigh of relief and contentment. Listening in pure and peaceful bliss to the ambient gurgling and groaning reverberating around inside the smooth, purple stomach, the constant light shifting and churning of the walls cause the waters around you, as well as you yourself to an extent, to shift slosh about just slightly, within the growling chamber of D-Side BF’s stomach.

Accompanying your head-nuzzling with a bit of hand-rubbing as well, you were able as a result to give D-Side BF a definitive message letting him know you were not only safe, but cheerful and comfortable, as well.

Now that he on the outside didn’t have to worry about his little friend being endangered by the rain anymore, or about him getting embarrassed by his blushing, D-Side BF subsequently allowed his cheeks to fully flush, his midsection pleasantly tingling from the gentle internal rubbing as he casually trodding along the darkening streets of the city.

D-Side BF wished deeply to return the loving gesture, and yet, with both of his hands occupied by the bag, and with the weather very very quickly turning bad, thereby forcing him to be in a hurry to get back to his place before the rain began, he just simply couldn’t.

Nonetheless, the simple, yet so deeply touching wondrousness of the internal rubbing did quite a lot in helping D-Side BF calm down, despite the fact he was in a rush to get home, and despite the trembling scare he had gotten back from the thunder. D-Side BF knew that his little friend was safe, and he also knew that his little friend was currently returning the gesture of said safety. This, to D-Side BF, within that very moment, was all that he needed to know.

22 notes · View notes

purble-turble · 3 years ago

Note

19, for DKR and Prince MK?

19 Bringing them a plate of their favorite sliced fruit.

Thanks for your patience!! It takes me so long to get to these prompts sometimes, but here is the next one! I managed to keep it much shorter than the other ones (through great force of will might I add lol)

----

Normally it would be unheard of for a king to do chores. It was beneath his station to do things like cook or clean; that was what servants were for, after all.

Too bad none of them could be trusted.

Not with something so precious and dear to him as his darling prince.

If it meant keeping his beloved MK safe from everyone trying to steal him away and ruin their newly refound happiness, then Demon King Red would cook a million dinners and sweep a billion floors! He'd do it with a smile on his face knowing that it was all for his darling, his love, his everything, his reason for living… There was nothing he wouldn't do for his prince.

Except let him out of the tower, of course.

MK had asked every day since he'd shut him in there a month ago to be let out, but sadly it was the one request he absolutely couldn't grant. Poor MK was so kind and trusting. He didn't understand that the rest of the world was evil and jealous. King Red couldn't risk that they might be torn apart by those outside forces. His darling would grow to love the tower. He'd see it for what it really was- a protective cocoon for their love, a place where they could be the only two people in the world. Perhaps he would even want to help with the chores that Red had taken on to keep the tower nice for them both. He was still a little pouty, no doubt because their honeymoon had been cut short because the king had to dispose of that servant. (How dare he smile at his darling like that- just remembering it made Red's hair start smoking in a fury!)

Well, until the prince was feeling more up to it, Red was more than happy to take on the responsibilities. He had thought he was a somewhat decent chef, having learned a bit back in the day despite his mother's insistence that it was unnecessary, but MK still wasn't eating much. Whenever he placed a bowl in front of him, he barely touched it, just preferring to stare angrily at it. Obviously it was Red's own fault… he needed to step up his game and figure out exactly what his darling wanted!

Perhaps he needed a little bit of help.

Standing in the palace kitchens, he stared down at the assortment of foods in front of him. The kitchen staff had helped assemble a variety of snacks that he could offer his darling, and now they were all standing off to the side, nervously waiting for him to make his choice and leave. He paid them no mind, trying to focus on what MK might like best.

The dishes he had prepared for the prince previously were perhaps too fancy. He wanted to impress him and so had tried to mimic the sort of elegant meals he was used to, being royalty and all. However, MK wasn't born into demon royalty. He might want something more simple. Reaching out, the king picked up a tray of fruit that was laid out in a nice display.

Yes, this would work. Fruits were nice and sweet, while still being a good snack. This would be a good lunch for his darling!

He turned away from the table, about to head back to the tower, but he paused suddenly. These sliced fruits on the tray, were they… peaches?

Hmm… did MK like peaches?

Now that he thought about it, peaches reminded him… of…

King Red dropped the tray.

There was a loud clang of the metal hitting the floor and the fruit that was laid across it so artfully splattered across the kitchen tiles. He whirled around, glaring at the kitchen staff as they huddled against the back wall.

"Peaches?" he demanded, "MK hates peaches! Whose idea was it to have this as an option?!"

For a moment, all the staff did was cower in silence as he fumed. He was starting to think of what might be an appropriate punishment for them, but then one stepped forward with a deep bow.

"Please accept my apologies, your majesty," the demon chef said, "I was afraid this might happen. None of us could possibly know the prince's tastes better than you! Please, if you'll allow us, we could prepare a more suitable fruit tray if you'd give us some guidance."

Red felt the smoke wafting off his hair come to a stop. This chef made a good point. Of course they wouldn't know his darling's favorite fruit! In fact, if they had then that would have been an actual issue to deal with.

Folding his arms across his chest, the king huffed quietly and thought for a moment. What fruit did MK like best?

Certainly not peaches… maybe dragonfruit?

Dragon… like… like that girl who-

No.

MK hated dragonfruit too.

Plums maybe? Hmm. No.

Bananas? Papaya? Mangos? Blueberries?

No, no, no, NO!

What would MK like? What was a suitable fruit for his prince? Something as sweet as he was, but not peaches… maybe something… red?

"Strawberries," he finally said, "MK likes strawberries."

The chef who had spoken before and was waiting bowed again, "Of course, your majesty. Allow us to get that for you."

Demon King Red nodded and turned away as the chefs started to scurry about to fulfill his wish. He could go about putting together a tray by himself now that he knew what he wanted, but since he still had the kitchen staff around he may as well put them to use. He still didn't trust them, and especially not their judgement, considering those awful peaches… but perhaps he didn't have to do every chore on his own.

#ask #spicynoodleshipping #dark spicynoodles #demon king red #prince mk #prompt fill #my fanfiction #Anonymous

93 notes · View notes

photogirl894 · 3 years ago

Text

"Sun and Rain"

Chapter 51

"Eradication"

A "Bad Batch" fanfic!

Pairing: Hunter x fem OC, Echo (more best friend pairing)

A/N: I LIIIIIIIIIIVE!!

Gosh, so sorry for the incredibly long wait! My inspiration has been sorely lacking and would come in small spurts here and there, which was maddening! Here is a nice long chapter to make up for it that I think you all will like 😊 I apologize if the action seems rushed, I was just trying my best to get through it and just get the chapter done lol

Taglist: @the-sad-batch , @nimata-beroya , @intrepidmare , @tmnt-leo-simp , @tech-aficionado , @ladykatakuri , @d1n0-dan , @sammi9498 , @darthzero22 , @scarlettroseog , @tech-deck , @thebadbatchscyare , @chxpsi , @ilikemymendarkandfictional , @4pplecider , @locitapurplepink , @l-lend , @nekotaetae , @eternalwaffle , @merkitty49

《 Chapter 50

》 Chapter 52

All chapters

Explanation: Now inside the Eradicators hideout, the Koriena Force's plan to rescue the Bad Batch and all the Clones is underway. Will it be successful or will they too end up as prisoners themselves?

The Koriena Force was led through a series of corridors to a large lift that they all got in and went downwards towards the Eradicators’ detention level. Jax kept looking at Kimber and trying to make small talk with her. She was hating every moment, but knew it was imperative to the plan that she go along with it. Mostly, she just wanted to tell him to throw himself in a Sarlacc pit and end his miserable existence. Sadly, she couldn’t say that…yet.

He kept going on, “As you may have seen, our establishment here and our entire enterprise is well-hidden from the eyes of the Republic. Their precious Clones disappear and they have no idea where they go.”

“And yet Irys was able to find out everything about this place in a matter of minutes on the holonet,” Kimber thought to herself. “Shows how arrogant you are.”

“Do not be so sure of that sir,” Kimber spoke aloud, using her deep Alpha voice. “The moment you let arrogance rule your words and actions is when your enemy will rise up and strike against you. The Republic is resourceful. While yes, you have the upper hand, it would be unwise to underestimate them.”

He chuckled. “Already so concerned for me and my work, I see. You flatter me, Lady Alpha,” he replied.

“You wish,” she thought, annoyed.

Very soon, the doors to the lift opened and they proceeded down another hallway to a door that Jax put in a code for on a keypad. Kimber kept a close eye on his hand movements so she could memorize the code, but even if she didn’t, she knew Irys would be able to override the code anyway. The door swished open and they came into the detention level, which was an open area at first with a main computer console and then had a long corridor with several doors on either side.

Jax then said, “This is where we keep the assortment of Clones we’ve captured thus far. I think you will find our selection most satisfactory.”

Then behind her, Rina spoke up, elbowing Rex in the side, “Though, first, we need somewhere to put this nuisance.”

Rex glared at her, keeping up the act.

“Oh yes,” said Jax. “I will find a place for him…but we will get to that momentarily. I want him to see all of the so-called brothers of his that we’ve captured.” Then he turned and began walking ahead of them.

Kimber’s hand curled up into a fist at her side, but Kida subtly reached over and placed her hand over hers. She gave Kimber a very light shake of the head, signaling her to keep her calm as they followed after him.

He went up to the first door on the left, pressed a button off to the side and the door slid open. Inside was a group of about six Clones that Kimber had yet to meet, but her heart still wrenched at seeing them in the cell, each bound at the wrists and looking either angry or hopeless. They were dressed in simple white armor with no color to them.

Now that he was presenting the Clones to her, Kimber gave a tiny nod to Irys, giving her the signal to begin hacking into the main console while Jax was occupied with showing off the Clones. Rina, Lex and Kida also casually assembled themselves behind Kimber so as to block Jax’s view of the computers and he couldn’t see Irys.

“What do you think of these ones?” Jax asked Kimber, making her remember that she had to act interested in buying them, which was making her sick to her stomach.

She took a moment, pretending to be analyzing the Clones in the cell before her. “A very good collection of specimens here…but I wish to look further.”

They walked down to the next cell and he opened up the door. Inside, there was another group of Clones, this time four of them. Their reactions were the same, glancing up at them with hate in their faces. She just acted uninterested and moved on to the next one.

However, it took every ounce of strength she possessed to not react to the next group of Clones she was shown; a group she was not expecting to see.

In the third cell, she saw the Wolf Pack.

Comet and Sinker were on the floor to the left, Boost was close to the door and then Commander Wolffe was standing towards the back, leaning up against the wall, looking more stoic than usual.

Kimber was surprised to see them. It was no wonder neither Rex nor Cody had heard anything from the Wolf Pack recently. Who knew how long they’d been imprisoned? She had to somehow let them know that they were going to be rescued. She’d already thought of a way to get a message to her squad, but this, she hadn’t anticipated.

To try and get in and get a message to them that she was there, she spoke up, feigning interest, “Oh…what do we have here?” She stepped down into the cell and the Clones all watched her come in. “These ones certainly might fit the part.” Her eyes found Wolffe and she walked forward, leaving everyone else behind her. “You look like a strong, able-bodied specimen.”

Wolffe just glared at her.

“Though, your eye is curious,” she commented. Then she said, hoping to get the signal across, “You remind me of someone I came across on a job on Falleen. We ended up in a scuffle with some Droids in the middle of it and the Vulture Droids gave us the most trouble.” She then asked over her shoulder, hoping to further sell the bit, “Do you remember that, ladies?”

With a scoff of disgust, Kida played along and responded, “Don’t remind me. Those Droids cost us a lot of credits on that job.”

Kimber grinned under her mask, grateful that Kida was going along with her.

Keeping her eyes trained on Wolffe, Kimber then said, “I recall that day having to attach a cable to a Vulture Droid in order to reach an outpost on the side of a mountain. That was quite the ride.”

His eyes narrowed at her curiously. It seemed that her bringing up what she did during her outing with the Wolf Pack on Falleen was jogging his memory. Just as she could tell the realization was hitting him, she then asked, “Would you say that is an impressive feat, Clone?” Then she gave him an affirming wink.

There was definitely some confusion in his expression, but there was the smallest hint of understanding in it, as well, as if realizing who she was, but wondering what in the world she was doing. However, he simply stated in answer, “Impressive indeed, ma’am.”

She gave an amused hum before looking back to Jax and declaring, “I like this one. I definitely have my eyes on him.”

“Do you wish to trade the Captain for this one?” Jax inquired.

“Possibly,” she answered contentedly as she made her way back to the open doorway. “That Clone with the cybernetic eye and maybe the rest of his crew, I’m highly considering, but I wish to view the other Clones you have on hand first before making a final decision.”

Jax bowed his head. “But of course,” he said, stepping aside so she could walk through, hitting the button to the cell door behind him as they moved away.

Once they were gone, Wolffe spoke to his squad, “Well, boys…I get the feeling we’re not going to be in this cell much longer.”

Confused, Comet asked, “What makes you say that?”

“And what was that whole thing about?” then asked Sinker, gesturing to the door.

“Remember that woman we picked up on Mon Gazza?” questioned Wolffe.

Boost answered, asking, “You mean the one that was in a Clone squad?”

“The one you said was a pain in your neck?” added Comet.

Wolffe reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah…I don’t know how, but she’s here…and somehow, she’s going to get us out.”

Back out in the hallway, Kimber, the Koriena Force and Rex continued along with Jax, observing other Clone prisoners in their cells. So far, there was no sign of the Bad Batch and luckily, Kimber didn’t see any other Clones that she recognized, which was a good sign at least. That didn’t stop the pain and the hate she was feeling with every cell they went to and every squad or group of Clones she pretended to survey. She wished she could just shoot Jax and free all the Clones right then and there, but she knew they’d never make it out with all the other Eradicators and bounty hunters waiting elsewhere in the fortress. She had to bide her time and keep her act up as much as possible.

After about six more cells--and what felt like an eternity--Jax opened up a cell near the end of the hall and Kimber’s breath hitched.

There they were: her boys, all spread throughout the cell. Hunter and Crosshair were standing near a back corner, Wrecker was sitting on the floor to the left while Tech and Echo were on the floor near the right side of the room. Their eyes drifted up to them and they gave them looks of indifference.

“Finally!” she thought. “Now’s the time to really sell all this.”

“Rex!” cried Echo upon seeing the Captain in their possession.

“Oh my…!” Kimber exclaimed, acting immensely intrigued upon seeing the Bad Batch as she walked into the cell. “Now, these Clones are incredibly unique. I have never seen ones like them before.”

They were watching her suspiciously and with caution and she didn’t like it. How she wanted desperately to rip her mask off and tell them she was there!

Then Jax said behind her, coming into the cell himself, “This is Clone Force 99. They are enhanced Clones, which makes them different from the rest.”

“Different, indeed,” she said back, eyeing the Clones closely and pretending to be fascinated by them, hoping in the back of her mind that they would forgive her later for how she was looking at them.

Her gaze went from Tech to Echo over to Wrecker and then lastly to Crosshair and Hunter. From what she could tell, they seemed okay and still in good health, surprisingly. She had been afraid she would find them beaten and bruised, showing possible signs of torture, given the Eradicators’ hatred of Clones. She felt fortunate that this was not the case and overwhelmed with relief.

Then she locked eyes with Hunter. He was faintly scowling at her and she couldn’t blame him. There was no way he would recognize her, not with the tattoos, the mask and the eye color changing discs she wore. There was no way he would know…but she had an idea of how to get a subtle signal to him that she was there, just like she had done with Wolffe, only this one she had actually prepared for.

“Are these not the Clones that are due to be eradicated?” inquired Kida.

“They are, indeed,” replied Jax, a tone of distaste in his voice,

Seemingly ignoring their conversation, Kimber stepped up to Hunter and could see Crosshair tense up out of the corner of her eye at her approach and she stole a look at him, as well. “These two have certainly piqued my interest. Though, in truth, all of them are just what I’m looking for. Strong physiques, built for endurance, special abilities…wouldn’t you agree, ladies?” she asked, turning over her shoulder.

“Oh yeah, I completely agree,” answered Rina and it was then Kimber noticed that she was making eyes at Wrecker as she voiced her agreement, who looked a bit put off by it. Kimber never would’ve imagined Rina would have a thing for bigger guys, but then again…she was a smaller woman, so she guessed that sort of thing made sense.

Then Lex said in addition, “I think these Clones would serve us well, my lady.”

Kimber put her hands behind her back underneath her cape, directed her attention to Jax and raised the question, hoping she would be able to convince him, “Why send these Clones to their death as punishment for what they have done? Would it not be more satisfying to see them as servants at someone else’s beck and call, performing hard labors as recompense for their crimes? I would be willing to pay an exceptionally handsome price for these Clones and take them off of your hands where they will certainly be punished for the wrongs they inflicted upon you.”

“We’ve done nothing wrong,” Hunter spat behind her.

This was her chance to send the signal.

“Forgive me, Hunter,” she prayed in her mind.

She pulled something out of a pouch on the back of her belt where Jax couldn’t see and hid it in her clenched fist as she then whirled around and struck a hard blow straight to Hunter’s side. As he cried out in pain and moved to clutch at the side of his abdomen with his bound hands, she ever so carefully put her fist into one of his open hands and slipped the item into it before forcing his hand closed with her own, pretending as though she were grabbing him defensively. She saw the other Clones all flinch and look like they wanted to move to Hunter’s aide, but knew they couldn’t, so their expressions were full of rage.

“I will not be spoken to in such a way, Clone!” she bellowed in his face. As his eyes, filled with disdain, lifted to meet hers, she then added in a more stern tone, “As the twin suns of Tatooine blaze in the desert, you will learn to be obedient like the massiff mutts you are.”

At any time, Kimber would’ve never believed that would ever say such words to Hunter and it killed her to speak to him this way, but as usual, it was necessary to preserve her cover in order for their plan to work. If her subtle hint about the twin suns wasn’t enough to let Hunter know it was her, then the object she’d slipped into his hand would be.

As she turned back around, Jax came up to her, an impressed smirk on his face at her display. “While your offer is indeed tempting, my lady,” he said, “I am afraid myself and the masses demand an example be made of these Clones. There are too many who have come here for the Eradication for it to be withdrawn. I am sorry, but I’m afraid these Clones will still be terminated.”

Unfortunately, he wasn’t budging and Kimber didn’t like that. She tried again, this time batting her eyelashes a bit at him and saying in a smooth, sultry tone, “Surely, sir, we can come to some sort of…arrangement about this.”

“Forgive me, but these Clones are not for sale,” he said in conclusion.

Just as she was going to try and argue some more, she saw Irys casually step up behind Rina, which gave Kimber the indication that she had successfully finished hacking into the computer system and the override was in place. The next big step of their plan was now in motion.

With that in mind, Kimber decided to reluctantly relent and replied with a heavy sigh, “Oh well, what a pity. I had so thought these Clones would serve us well.”

“Shall we finish surveying the rest of my collection and find a new place for our newest addition?” asked Jax, motioning to Rex.

Keeping up appearances, Rex cast an apologetic glance to the members of the Bad Batch.

“I say we shall,” replied Kimber, once again looping her arm through his and resisting the strong urge she had to break it as she exited the cell. She wished that she could look one last time at her boys, but Jax was quick to whisk her out of the room that she didn’t get the chance to.

“Who the heck was that?” questioned Wrecker, annoyed.

Hunter, still on one knee and doubled over from the hit he took to the abdomen, brought out his hand and looked at the object that he had felt get slipped into it. His fingers unfurled and his eyes went wide with shock.

It was his credit necklace!

How was that possible? He had thought it had been lost or the Eradicators had taken it when he realized it wasn’t with him upon waking up in the cell they were in. Yet that woman had it…who was she and how did she have it? Something wasn’t right.

Then the last thing she had said to him came to mind:

“As the twin suns of Tatooine blaze in the desert….”

Tatooine…the necklace…

“Kimber!” he gasped.

“What?” asked Crosshair, looking down at him.

“What are you talking about, Hunter?” then questioned Echo.

Hunter held out his hand so his brothers could see the necklace he now held as he said, “I don't know how, but I think that woman was Kimber.”

“That’s your necklace,” Crosshair pointed out.

With a nod, Hunter explained, “She snuck it into my hand after she punched me.”

“Which, wow, she hits pretty hard!” he then thought to himself as he acknowledged the twinging in his side.

Then Tech seemed to catch on as he pointed out, “She also mentioned the twin suns of Tatooine.”

“That’s got to be her, then!” cried Wrecker.

Unable to hold back the pleased grin on his face, Hunter stated, “I knew she would find us. I knew it.”

“Though, I’m curious as to how she managed to locate us,” commented Tech.

“Does that really matter?” Echo asked in return. “Kimber still found us and she also got inside this hideout.”

“Do you think the squad she brought is on her side?” inquired Crosshair.

“Given the way she spoke to those ladies, it would appear she holds a form of leadership over them,” Tech stated in answer, “so my theory is yes, she is in league with those women and they are all undercover as bounty hunters in order to infiltrate the Eradicators’ secret base.”

Wrecker got kind of a cheeky grin on his face as he added with a tiny shrug, “That tiny girl with the gray hair was kind of cute.”

“Duly noted, but now’s not the time for that,” said Hunter. “Kimber’s here and she’s brought help. Looks like we’re going to survive this after all, boys.”

A wave of relief crashed over him. For the past couple days, he had been secretly wallowing in doubt and misery, fearing that Kimber would never find them…and he’d never see her again, but just as he had hoped deep down, she had proven to be as capable and innovative as he always believed and found them against all odds. Even then, she still managed to surprise him.

Now that she was there at the hideout, he knew without a doubt that Kimber was going to make Jax Orocco pay dearly for everything he had done.

The moment Jax left the Koriena Force in their guest room for the night, Kimber ran straight for the refresher and vomited violently, now that the adrenaline of being undercover was wearing off and she could drop the bounty hunter act. The pressure of it all and having to act as the exact opposite kind of person that she was had built up so much within her that she finally couldn’t hold it back and the contents of her stomach unleashed themselves rather quickly.

Rina had gone in with her and was rubbing her back soothingly. “There you go, boss lady. Just let it all out. You did great,” she said.

With a gasp, Kimber replied, "The sooner we get this all over with, the better. I don't think I can take doing much more of this. I hate acting and speaking so abhorrently to the Clones! It sickens me!"

"Yeah, I can see that," replied Rina.

"Well, hopefully you won't have to do it much longer," Kida piped in outside the open door as the two ladies came out of the refresher. "We'll enact our plan tonight, free the Clones and put an end to the Eradicators, Jax Orroco along with them."

After taking a few deep breaths, Kimber stood back up and asked, "Irys, you got that override ready?"

"I assume that's a rhetorical question," Irys stated back.

"Good," Kimber replied.

Lex then posed the question, "Now that we've gotten a look at your Bad Batch boys...which one was your Sergeant?"

Kimber snickered timidly and told them, "The one I punched."

Right then, Rina let out a laugh and declared. "I knew it! That's five credits, Lex."

To Kimber's slight astonishment, she watched Lex pull out some credits from a pouch on her belt and begrudgingly put them into Rina's hands, who accepted them with a triumphant grin.

"Excuse me?" Kimber questioned.

Pocketing the credits, Rina explained, "While you were throwing punches and schmoozing up to the enemy, Lex and I took bets on who we thought your Sergeant Hunter was. I totally had you pegged going for the tall, dark, handsome and broody type."

It was amazing how easily Rina seemed to figure her out. Kimber then turned to Lex and asked, "Who did you think it was?"

"I thought it was the silver-haired one. He seemed to have an air of authority about him," Lex answered.

"That was Crosshair. He's the one who saved Kimber on Kuat and killed the Rodian, remember?" clarified Irys.

"Oh right," said Lex.

"Yes, I love him very much like a brother and nothing more," explained Kimber.

With a small shrug, Irys added, "Though, he was pretty handsome."

"So was the big lug in the corner. I definitely like a guy that can lift me...out of my depression," said Rina, quickly changing her tune once she realized where her mind was going.

"They were all handsome," put in Kida, smirking.

With a small roll of the eyes, Kimber said back, "You would say that."

"Yes, though I still have eyes for the blonde Clone Captain," said Kida.

“Anyway…,” said Irys, trying to move the conversation along. “I’ve got access to the security cameras, so once night comes, I can guide all of you as you make your way back to the detention level, make sure no one gets in your way.”

Kimber’s expression then turned somber as she asked, “Where is Jax Orocco’s room?”

“Naturally where you would suspect it might be: on the top level of the base above everyone else,” Irys informed her. “Most of the uppermost level is his living quarters.”

“Good. Once the Clones are freed, I’m going up there,” Kimber stated.

“Alone?” questioned Rina.

Without hesitating, Kimber told her, “Yes. Jax, I need to deal with alone. I’m the reason all of this is happening and I’m going to make sure that, before all of this is over, that I cut the head off the snake. I need you ladies to ensure that all of the Clones get away safely while I take care of that. Can I count on you?”

“Oh please, would we have come with you on this mission if you couldn’t?” Kida asked in return.

With a grin, Kimber responded, “Fair point.”

Nightfall came quickly, much to Kimber’s relief. Once they were certain all parties within the fortress were in their respective rooms and should be asleep, the Koriena Force put their plan into motion.

Once Irys scanned the corridors on the cameras and gave the all-clear, the rest of the ladies stealthily snuck through the halls, being sure to stop at each corner until Irys told them to go over their comm units. As they went along, Lex placed several explosive charges along the walls for when it was time to blow the base. They moved as quickly and quietly as they could and so far, everything was going well.

Kimber couldn’t help but feel a bubble of nervousness growing in her stomach. What if all of this went wrong? What if they got caught and she would almost certainly ensure the extermination of all the Clones? What if she was leading these ladies under her command to their deaths? They didn’t deserve to die, not there on Nar Shadaa and not for something that was her fault to begin with. Even though they were willing to follow her, she still felt that if something were to happen to them as a result of this mission, she would be directly responsible. Would she even be able to live with that guilt?

Was this how Hunter felt all the time leading his squad; his brothers and her on missions every day? Did he feel this kind of guilt constantly? Was he always worrying like this wherever they went? This sort of pressure was almost unbearable…and most likely, the man she loved experienced this every moment of every day of his life. Being in this leadership position herself now made her realize that Hunter was truly stronger than she ever imagined. To deal with this sort of pressure and expectations all the time and still come across as calm, collected and level-headed as he was, was exceptional. She only hoped she was even a fraction of the leader he was.

Soon, they made it back to the detention level and crowded outside the door. Kimber keyed in the code she'd seen Jax put in on the keypad and the console flashed green. With that, the doors swished open.

"We're in. Irys, start looping the security feed. Also, what cell is Rex in?" Kimber inquired over her comm as they quietly walked in.

"Got it. He's in the closest cell to you on the right," said Irys. "Unlocking the door now."

There was a beep and the closest cell door to the right came open. Kimber stepped into the doorway and found Rex standing near the back.

"Ready to get your brothers?" she asked him, pulling her mask down.

"I've been ready since we got here," he said back, moving to the door.

Once he was out of the cell, Kimber ordered, "Lex, get your final charges set."

Lex nodded and got her explosives set on the main computer console.

Then Kimber said over the comm, "We've got Rex and the charges are in place. Activate the override."

"On it," Irys responded.

They then saw all the locks activating on all the cells and the doors opening up as well as the weapons closet off to the side. Rina and Lex went over and started getting some of the weapons out and ready for the Clones. A few seconds later, some of the Clones started peeking warily out of their cells.

Kimber spoke up, "Everyone, listen up. This is a rescue operation. We're here to free all of you. The Eradicators and bounty hunters are currently asleep, so we need to do this as quietly and stealthily as possible. Move quickly and my team will supply you with weapons. They'll lead you to safety along with Captain Rex here. We're stealing some ships or boarding gunships nearby which will take us to a Republic cruiser that's on standby. You're all getting out of here."

"Our freedom is just within reach, soldiers. Let's move!" then commanded Rex to rally the troops.

Right after that, the hallway was suddenly crowded with Clone soldiers and Kimber was scanning as hard as she could through the mass of people, looking for Wolffe as well as her boys. She spotted Wolffe first and called out his name as he came by.

His eyes found her and he couldn't hold back a small smirk. "Well, well...it is you," he commented.

"Surprised?" she asked.

"Quite, actually. I didn't think we'd run into you here, of all places," he told her.

She snickered and replied, "Trust me, I didn't either. I'm glad you guys are okay. Hurry and get moving. I'll see you on the other side."

Wolffe simply nodded and sped off with the rest of the Clones.

Kimber kept watching for her boys in the midst of the fray and before long, she could spot their armor towards the back. She started making her way through the Clones to get to them.

"Bad Batch!" she called out to get their attention.

Sure enough, they all looked her direction and their eyes all lit up at seeing her.

"Kimber!" cried Echo.

The person closest to the front of the group was Crosshair and Kimber jumped up and hugged him, not even caring that he wasn't a fan of hugs. However, she still felt him gently embrace her back.

"We knew it was you! We knew you'd come for us!" exclaimed Wrecker, clapping her on the arm.

"Was there ever any doubt?" she asked back, grinning.

Hunter then stepped up from the back and answered with a pleased grin of his own, "Never."

She smiled at him, overwhelmed with joy at seeing him and seeing all of her boys were okay. "I'm so happy I found you all. I'm glad to see you," she told them.

"The feeling is mutual," replied Tech with an adjustment of his goggles.

"Now, let's hurry and get out of here before the Eradicators figure out we're escaping," Crosshair stated.

The others all ran off, but Hunter lingered behind for a brief moment with Kimber. He was searching her face, as if trying to understand how it was really her standing in front of him. The disguise she had probably wasn't helping matters much, but his mouth also wavered up and down as if he was wanting to say something, but didn't know quite what to say.

She took the initiative and told him, "I'll explain everything once we're off world, I promise."

His hand came up to her shoulder. "I'm just glad you're safe," he finally said.

"Same to you," she said. "Let's go."

Just as they got up to the weapons room, Crosshair came out with his helmet donned and rifle on his back, said Hunter's name and tossed him his helmet and vibroblade. Hunter caught them both, put the helmet on and sheathed the blade just as the rest of the boys came out with their weapons. Echo then handed Hunter his blasters.

"First group has made it out of the base and I've directed them to the junkyard to get to the gunships. I'm on my way to your position, Kimber," reported Rex over the commlink.

Then Lex chimed in, "Second group has reached the hangar and they're boarding a couple ships. I'm heading back now. It probably won't be long before the Eradicators hear the hangar doors opening or the ships powering up."

"Don't worry, I've got the doors to all the bedrooms on lockdown," replied Irys. "It won't hold them back permanently, but it'll at least buy you all some time."

Rina came out of the weapons room with Kida and, upon seeing them, Kimber replied over the comm, "Looks like the rest of the Clones are out of the detention level. We're headed to the hangar."

"Lead the way, boss lady," invited Rina with a sweep of her hand.

With a nod, Kimber gestured with her head to the two ladies as well as the Bad Batch to follow her and they moved quickly into the lift, which took them back up to the main level. However, just as the doors opened, they heard a blaster shot not too far away. Everyone pulled out their weapons and ran off towards the sound. They rounded a corner to see Lex in a fistfight with a bounty hunter, his blaster on the ground.

"Karabast!" Lex cried out as she fought off the man.

Before anyone could react, Rina suddenly leapt forward, withdrew a rope dart with a rounded object at the end from around her waist and flung it towards the bounty hunter, hitting him square in the side of the head and knocking him out. She might’ve been shorter than everyone, but she showed the Clones that she was certainly not to be underestimated.

"How'd he get out?" questioned Kimber.

"He somehow disabled the door," answered Lex.

Then Tech spoke up, "We'd better get moving. There's a high probability that the blaster shot woke some of the other Eradicators or bounty hunters and we'll soon be overrun."

Just then, one of the doors behind them exploded and the door itself crashed to the ground.

"You spoke too soon, Tech," said Echo.

A group of three people came out of the room, spotted them and one of them cried, "The Clones are escaping!" Then all three of them pulled out blasters and darted towards them.

Lex pulled an orb from her belt, activated it and threw it towards their attackers. Two seconds later, the detonator went off and a big cloud of smoke erupted from it. While they were distracted, Kimber and Rina jumped in and started throwing punches, trying to incapacitate them.

Hunter watched in awe as Kimber fought the people who tried to come at them. She was fighting in a way he hadn't seen from her before. Her combat form had improved and she seemed stronger now. He could definitely tell she was holding her own better than normal and he almost felt he could watch her do that all day. This was a new and improved Kimber...and he liked what he saw.

Once she took down the last one, she caught his eyes and flashed him a sly, almost cocky grin.

Just then, Irys's voice came over the comms, "Guys, we've got a problem: that blaster shot caused a ruckus and there's a lot of Eradicators and bounty hunters getting out of their rooms in the corridors ahead."

"Which means our only exit is blocked off," Kida concluded.

Right then, Rex came running around the corner in front of them, calling out, "She's right. I could hear shouts and shots behind me as I was running. They'll soon be headed this way. Looks like we're gonna have to fight our way out of this one."

"Not necessarily," spoke Irys. "There's a ventilation shaft above you that leads throughout the lower level and can get you closer to the front entrance of the base. If you can get up in there and crawl through, you should be able to bypass the incoming mob, get outside and make your way to the junkyard where our ship is waiting. Get in the shaft and once you're clear, I'll lock down all the corridors and seal everyone in."

Kimber looked up and could see a panel high up in the ceiling that most likely led to the ventilation shaft. She said, "Well, everyone pretty much knows we're here already so...." Then she withdrew a small explosive and threw it up at the panel. It stuck to the ceiling and in seconds blew the panel of its hinges.

"Let's go. There's not a moment to lose," she said.

Tech stepped up and said, "Wrecker, give me a boost."

Wrecker got down on one knee and braced his hands up as Tech stepped onto them. Then with a small throw, Wrecker pushed Tech up into the air where he grabbed the edge of the hole and pulled himself into the shaft.

"All right, Wrecker will help everyone up and I'll pull them in," Tech stated loudly for them to hear.

Suddenly, a blaster shot whizzed right by the group and they saw more Eradicators and bounty hunters coming their way with blasters at the ready. They all began to fire back at them, causing the attackers to duck behind the corners ahead.

"Wrecker, get the boys to safety! We'll cover you!" Kimber cried out. Not giving any of her boys a chance to refute, she then cried, "Koriena Force, with me!"

All the ladies let out a yell of conviction and charged towards the Eradicators, shooting their blasters at them or using other weapons to fight them.

Once again, Hunter found himself stunned at what he witnessed before him from Kimber. There she was, fearlessly leading a team of women he didn't know into combat and they were fighting together as one unit, as if they'd been together for years. Whoever these ladies were, they were skilled fighters. Not only that, but it was clear to him that the entire rescue operation had been led and probably orchestrated by her. He was impressed and deep down, he was proud to see the incredible leader she had become in their time apart.

"That's my girl," he thought, a smirk creeping up on his lips before Wrecker interrupted his thoughts by telling him it was his turn to go up into the vents.

At the front, the Koriena Force was holding the Eradicators back as best they could. They managed to wound a few of them, but they weren't aiming to kill; mainly just incapacitate. One Eradicator managed to get a shot on Kida, wounding her in the shoulder and sending her to the ground.

"Kida!" Rex cried out in alarm. He whipped his blaster in front of him and shot the one who shot her square in the chest before rushing over to her side.

While taking cover behind a corner, Kimber called to him, "Rex, get Kida out of here!"

Without a word, Rex swept Kida into his arms to get her out of harm's way.

"My hero," said Kida through a groan as they ran off.

After knocking another Eradicator off their feet with her rope dart, Rina looked to Kimber and stated, "Well, this is certainly going well."

"Rina, it's your turn. Get to the shaft. Lex and I will follow," called Kimber.

"Got it!" Rina replied. She ran back to Wrecker, craned her neck to look at him as he towered over her and said, "Hey, big guy! Mind giving a small girl a lift?"

With a hearty chuckle, he responded, "Oh, you bet!" He then proceeded to grab her underneath her arms and launched her up into the hole in the ceiling like she literally weighed nothing.

There was a cheer up in the shaft followed by Rina calling down, "Okay, that was amazing!"

"Lex, go!" called Kimber.

Lex obeyed and, after taking a couple more shots, ran to Wrecker, who threw her up in turn.

Right then, Kimber got on her comm and said, "Rina, get Wrecker into the shaft and get out of here."

"Wait, what about you?" Rina questioned.

"I've got to end this. I'm going after Jax. Now go!" Then she resumed blasting back at the Eradicators.

Up in the shaft, Rina knew what she had to do, even though she wasn't necessarily pleased about having to do it. She reached out a hand and, calling to the Force around her, used it to pull Wrecker upwards to the hole.

"Whoa, what's happening? Oh, not again!" shouted Wrecker as he was suddenly floating in the air up into the vent.

As he came up and landed in the shaft, Lex turned to Rina and asked, her eyes wide, "Did you just--?"

"Yeah, we're not talking about it. Let's go," Rina stated abruptly.

"What about Kimber?" asked Wrecker.

Rina informed him as they began crawling through the shaft, "She'll catch up and meet us at the junkyard. The boss lady has got one more thing to take care of."

The doors to the lift opened on the top floor of the Eradicator base and Kimber released a heavy sigh before pulling her mask back over the lower half of her face. The time had come to face her demon and to bring about the end of the Eradicators beginning with the one at the head of it all.

She walked down the single empty corridor that led to a large door. Her heart was beating rapidly with every step she took towards Orocco’s office. Her hands were trembling at her sides. She knew what she was going to do and she prayed that she would have the strength to do it. This had to happen. This had to end and this was the only way it would.

Before long, she reached the door and spoke quietly over her comm, “Irys, I need you to override the lock on Jax’s door.”

A few seconds later, the locking mechanism beeped, flashed green and Kimber heard Irys’s voice say, “Override complete.”

“Good. Now get yourself out and meet up with the others at the junkyard. I'll meet you all there back at our ship when I can,” Kimber ordered.

“Understood. Good luck, Kimber.”

With that, Kimber put her comm back in her pocket and steeled herself. This was it. She pressed the button to open the door and it opened right up for her. She stepped into a vast office room lit up by lights on the walls and where the back wall furthest from her was one big viewport where she could see out into the city below. There was a huge holotable in the middle of the room and then a desk near the viewport, where Jax Orocco was looking at holographic security footage.

“How is this possible? I hear blasterfire and yet nothing is on the security feed!” he complained aloud.

Going back into her Alpha voice, Kimber spoke up as she sauntered into the room, “What seems to be the trouble, sir?”

Jax flinched at hearing her voice in the shadows, but then relaxed slightly when he saw it was her. “Lady Alpha,” he greeted her. “I don’t know what is going on. I hear blasters being fired, but I’m seeing nothing on my security cameras. It would seem someone has hacked into the system.”

“That certainly won’t do,” she replied, feigning concern.

“Certainly not,” he agreed, turning the hologram off. “Have you any idea what might be going on?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she replied. Then she took out her blaster and pointed it straight at him.

His expression changed from apprehension to displeasure. “You disappoint me, Lady Alpha.”

She then decided to switch back to her normal voice and responded to him, her tone now cold and determined, “You see, I’m not here to buy or trade Clones. I’m here to free them. Also, it’s not Lady Alpha. It’s Kimber Sallaros.” Then she reached up and tapped the button in her bandana to deactivate the color discs in her eyes, revealing her normal amber eyes and then she pulled down her mask, showing him her face.

There was a brief moment of confusion on his face before it suddenly dawned on him and he exclaimed, “You’re the Clone lover woman I fought at 79’s on Coruscant!”

“And incidentally, the same woman who had a run-in with Carson D’gall on Kuat,” she added.

“That was you?” he growled.

With a defiant smirk, she said back, “Yes...and I have no regrets over anything I’ve done.” She walked a couple steps closer. “It’s over for you, Jax. You and your Eradicators will be put to an end tonight. Before I leave this office, you will be dead on the floor.”

He eyed her both with anger and slight curiosity, his eyes darting between her and the blaster in her hand. “How did you find my base? We are well-hidden from the eyes of the Republic,” he stated.

Now, she could react the way she wanted to and she let out a laugh of disbelief. “Oh please! You think you’re so clever? One of my ladies found out everything about you, your location and your endeavors on the holonet in just minutes. You’re not as covert as you think.”

He just simply glared at her, unamused at her comments.

Holding her blaster just a little higher, she declared, “I am a friend to the Clones and I will protect all of them from the likes of you or anyone like you. You will never capture or harm any of the Clones ever again, including my squad, Clone Force 99.”

Hearing that, Jax’s eyes narrowed at her. “Now it all makes sense…,” he mused.

She gestured to the floor with her blaster and commanded, “Down on the ground. Now.”

Jax continued to just stare at her with a frigid look in his eyes. “You won’t succeed, Clone lover,” he said with a sneer. “Your precious lab experiments will be recaptured and all the rest of them throughout the galaxy will be permanently silenced. I’ll see to that myself.”

Growing frustrated, Kimber took her free hand and struck Jax across the face with a yell. He didn’t seem too bothered by her actions.

“On the ground…now!” she cried out, returning her blaster to pointing at him.

With a begrudging scowl, he slowly got down onto his knees in front of her. Her hands started trembling again, now that the moment was finally upon her. This was the time to finally put an end to Jax Orocco, but now she was having doubts. Echo had once told her that she was no killer and had stopped her from taking out Wat Tambor, who was just as bad as Jax. Even though she believed that, too, about herself, if she didn’t take out Jax now, she ran the risk of him escaping and their problems wouldn’t be solved. She had to do this!

“Your hands are trembling…you can’t kill me, can you?” Jax taunted her.

“Shut up!” she yelled at him.

All of a sudden, while she was distracted, Jax threw his arm up and knocked her blaster out of her hands, climbed back to his feet and tackled her back into the edge of the holotable. In response, she brought her arms up and drove her elbows down straight into his spine. When he cried out in pain and his hold on her slackened, she threw a couple punches into his stomach and then shoved him away, going back for her blaster on the ground. However, he reached back and grabbed a hold of her cape to stop her. The cape caught against her throat and he pulled her back towards him. He whipped her around and closed a hand around her throat tightly.

Bringing her close, he growled in her face, “Tomorrow, your Clone Force 99 will be executed at the Eradication…and so will your lady friends. I’ll kill all of them and I’ll make you watch as they die!”

“Never!” she choked out.

Kimber brought up her leg, reached down and pulled one of the vibroblades hidden in her boot. Once it was in her hand, she brought it up and sliced the arm of the hand that held her by the throat. Jax let out a pained yell, released her and clutched at his injured arm. Unfortunately, he was quicker as he then grasped her wrist, pulled the vibroblade from her with his other hand and then thrust the blade into her side. She screamed in agony from the pain of both the knife and the electricity from the blade running through her. As he withdrew the blade, she felt her strength beginning to fail and she collapsed to the ground. He now towered over her and she tried to inch away from him while holding her wound and her blaster was still just out of her reach. Now like this, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to defeat him. He now held the advantage over her.

There was only one thing left to do.

She pressed a button on her commlink and hoped her friends would follow through.

Back in the ship they came in, the Koriena Force, Captain Rex and the Bad Batch were waiting for Kimber's return when a green light started flashing and beeping on the main console.

"That's Kimber's signal!" cried Lex, looking to Irys beside her.

"Signal for what?" inquired Crosshair.

The sad look on Lex's face, however, did not inspire much confidence. She then answered, "To blow up the base."

The Bad Batch's eyes all went wide in shock.

"But we can't! She's still inside!" Echo refuted.

"She'll blow up, too!" cried Wrecker.

"I think she's aware of that," Rex, who was bandaging Kida's wound, said solemnly.

Kida straightened up and declared, "No! Kimber didn't come this far to die on this Forceforsaken planet with those barbaric people!"

"We have to go back for her!" urged Hunter.

Rina waved a dismissive hand and replied, "Relax, lover boy. Do you really think we'd leave your girl and our leader behind? Not a chance. Of course, we're going back for her."

Hunter seemed unsure how to react at hearing the small woman call him "lover boy" and saying "your girl".

"Tech, get us up to the top of the base!" ordered Rex.

With a nod, Tech replied, "On it, Cap!" Then he jumped into the pilot's seat and got the ship ready to take off.

Inside Jax's office, Jax was walking towards Kimber, who was trying to crawl backwards away from him, but was having difficulty due to her wound.

"Poor Kimber," he taunted, tossing the vibroblade to the floor. "Such a disappointment. Your feeble attempt at bringing down my establishment has failed."

Through a grunt, Kimber spat back, "That's what you think."

"Why would you risk so much for a race of beings who aren't even real people?" he inquired.

Angrily gritting her teeth through the pain in her side, she said back loudly, "If they're not real people, then why are you wasting your time trying to get rid of them?"

"When one suffers a plague of pests, you exterminate them," he said back.

"Which is exactly what my team and I are going to do with you and your Eradicators," she told him, glaring up at him.

He chuckled menacingly before withdrawing a blaster of his own and pointing it down at her.

"I won't kill you, but I will make good work of you before I make you watch the Eradication that will take place tomorrow," he said.

"I'd like to see you try and make me, sleemo," she antagonized him.

His eyes flashed with anger and he raised his blaster higher, getting ready to shoot, and Kimber prepared herself for more pain.

Boom!

The viewport wall by them was suddenly blown into pieces by big laser shots and, after ducking away from the debris, Kimber looked and realized it was the ship she had come in. Her friends had still come for her, despite what she wanted them to do. Taking the opportunity while Jax was distracted by the explosion, she mustered up what strength she had to get to her feet, stagger over to her blaster and pick it up. Then she swiftly turned around, caught his eye and pulled the trigger.

The blaster fired...and there was a smoking hole in Jax's chest.

His eyes wide and his mouth agape, Jax Orroco dropped his own blaster and slumped to the floor, dead.

Kimber gasped in astonishment. She'd actually done it.

Right then, she heard a whirring sound and saw the docking bay of the ship opening up just outside the blown wall. Hunter stood at the edge of the platform, waving to her.

"Kimber! Come on!" he called to her.

She stole one last look at the lifeless form of Jax on the ground. It took a moment for it to hit her that he was actually dead and she had killed him...and the Clones were now truly free.

With that, she clutched at her side and started running as best she could towards the broken viewport.

"Jump!" cried Hunter, holding out a hand to her.

Placing her full trust in him, she got to the edge and leapt through the viewport, reaching out to him as she jumped. Hunter caught Kimber by the hand and pulled her up against him as she landed on the docking platform.

"Thank you, Hunter," she gasped out.

He gave her a sincere nod.

Then she shouted into the ship as it started flying away, "Lex...blow it to hell!"

"With pleasure!" Lex cried back.

Kimber looked back at the Eradicators hideout below and a few seconds later, watched as several small explosives going off at once created one big explosion and absolutely destroying the fortress. With a sigh of relief, Kimber let herself fall into Hunter as he led her back into the ship.

All of the Clones, including hers, had been rescued and the Eradicators had been, as they would say, eradicated.

Kimber and the Koriena Force had succeeded.

#star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch hunter #bad batch fanfic #hunter x oc fic #sun and rain fanfic

40 notes · View notes

scribbleseas · 3 years ago

Text

The Indignant Pawn, Chapter XIV: The Queen’s Guard Dog

Description: You are Y/n Y/l/n- formerly known as Princess Helena, the runaway princess.

You're an assassin for hire who only agrees to find the worst of London's criminals at the business end of your knife; until a mysterious woman hires you to end the likes of Ciel Phantomhive, the King of the Underworld. You find yourself trading your weapons for your abandoned family crest in order to infiltrate his home as none other than Princess Marie-Louise, your twin sister. What's to happen when you find that the young Earl is more than a callous businessman?

OVERALL STORY WARNINGS: sexual assault (once in the prologue), objectification, misogyny, death, detailed description of blood/gore, detailed description of murder, lying, impersonation, theft, weapons, detailed panic attacks, symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, kissing

CHAPTER WARNINGS: plenty of combat, shooting, detailed description of violence, pain, and gore, nasty corpse described in detail, suicide briefly mentioned

Author’s Note: Happy Halloween, dear readers! I actually didn’t plan on a chapter coming out today, but things just worked out that way! Anyways, think of this chapter as the start of this fic’s “Act 2″ and just know I wrote most of this chapter to my Spotify playlist entitled “stop checking your phone, he didn’t text you.” So I took out the deep shit lol.

Happy Reading!

- Dan

⇠ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER ⇢

MASTERLIST

. . .

APRIL 3RD, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

“There is nothing to make work, Your Highness.” Ciel’s blunt words, haunting you, refused to stop echoing in your head. They reminded you that from some corner of his twisted, dark, and somber mind, there was no remote possibility that you could be together, romantically or as you were.

You couldn’t live with him, making believe the night prior never took place, silently breathless while you fixated on his every word. Especially not while you were supposed to kill him. Even if you could channel all your rage and mortification into a bloodthirsty craving to commit murder, it wouldn’t be enough to force you to follow through.

It was cowardly, but this was the only action you could take. Much like Elizabeth ending the engagement because it would cause the least harm to the three of you, you were stuffing your belongings into a small leather suitcase and leaving to cause the least amount of harm to yourself and Ciel. There were no palatable ways you could see the next several weeks playing out if you stayed; you couldn’t force the Earl to want you, and you wouldn’t.

You never needed anyone besides yourself. Degrading yourself by chasing after an emotionless man would betray every skill Baxter left you. You’d sooner die than commit such a fallacy.

The scent of smoke washed over you as you pulled the conman’s chestnut jacket over your arms. You dressed down for the sake of riding and returning to your life, sporting a plain beige petticoat with a navy bodice. Clumps of assorted necklaces and rings weighed the deep pockets, jingling at the slightest movements. Perhaps they were better packed into the suitcase, with your previously hidden weapons and few personal effects.

Doña supplied everything else you brought, luxury gowns and all sorts that a princess would need with her. She purchased the jewelry, but you’d need it to pay your way to the States and food for the next several months.

After all, once Princess Marie was declared missing, there would be a rigorous international search for her. You would need to stay in hiding for a long time, and the royal-free United States would be your best chance at anonymity. You didn’t have the liberty of disappearing as the unpopular German princess again.

You pensively surveyed your quarters one last time as if you could commit every detail to memory, though the room was disheveled. You were keeping all of your belongings well hidden, and digging them up somewhat destroyed the room’s graceful ambiance. For instance, you had the final porcelain salt shaker jammed underneath the floorboard by your nightstand. Now, it sat in your petticoat while the floorboard leaned against the wall, pried away from its brethren.

As you left the manor, you invested all your accumulated knowledge about its layout. The best route to avoid Ciel’s quarters was the servants’ rooms, whose minuscule parts of the wooden floor complained the loudest when you stepped over them. You refused to take any chance. After all, if someone saw you, it would be impossible to maintain your ruse.

Most likely, you would need to kill them.

You slipped through the servant entrance at the manor’s side, opposite Ciel’s room. The moment you shut the heavy door behind you, you took a grateful sigh, trudging along the side of the building until you found a decent cluster of bushes.

Although thallium sulfate was a marvelous poison, it would be unwise to carry it onto a steamship. Though odorless, a trained officer knows the signs of disguised poison: indiscriminate containers, tasteless, carried by a suspicious character. A young woman traveling alone was bound to catch a few eyes in the first place. You were too tall to hide behind cargo boxes this time.

Thus, you unscrewed the salt shaker’s cap, and after kicking a patch of dirt away with your heel, you poured the white substance. If it killed the plants, which you doubted it would, Sebastian would simply replace them.

“Poisoning the plants seems rather cruel of you, wouldn’t you say so?”

Speak of the devil.

You paused, turning around so quickly you might’ve fallen over if you weren’t careful. Did you not check behind you? No, you did. You had to have.

“I’m sorry?” You asked intelligently, staring down at the full salt shaker in your hands. You blinked slowly, perplexed. Seconds ago, you poured the thallium into the dirt, yet it was back in its casing. The white substance managed to stare at you.

“Surely you must know what happens to those who ingest large amounts of thallium sulfate,” Sebastian said. “Would it be fair of me to presume you intended this rather agonizing death for my master?” he asked, although he very well knew the answer. The butler smiled, but his eyes were venomous, almost glowing as they reflected the rising sun.

Your head swam, looking for something to say, something to do, a way to escape, but you failed yourself. Sebastian was a man who could catch bullets and return them the same speed a gun initially launched them. It didn’t matter how experienced or clever you were, he could kill you. And by the murderous joy in his eyes, he would, given a chance.

The sharp inhale you meant to take in felt like a desperate gulp of air, as if you were sinking in an ocean, slowly letting the waves consume you before taking one final, parting breath. Was this how your sister felt? Or did Doña’s men have mercy and put a bullet between her eyes before capsizing the royal steamship?

“If you let me leave, I will never come here again. I won’t so much as remain in this country,” you couldn’t recognize your voice. It was ragged, pained, cornered like a lion in a cage, tamed by a whip. “Please, Sebastian. I have everything I need with me now. I will go.” This was how your voice sounded the morning Baxter died.

But you knew how that morning ended: four dead men, a mistreated girl, and a big crime scene to clean.

Sebastian was a lot of things; eloquent, graceful, and intelligent. But he was not merciful in any sense of the word.

“As much as I would enjoy that, my Lord has another way he wishes to…handle you,” the butler said as if he were referring to a common rat. “Please empty your pockets and allow me to take your bag.” It wasn’t the placid request he dictated it to be, and you knew better than to refuse.

So Ciel knew.

“Very good. Follow me.”

Complying would give you the best chance at survival. When you couldn’t use force, that merely meant you could rely on your mind. Surely some arrangement would allow you to leave free or even keep you alive long enough to find a way to escape on your merit.

Mey-Rin and Baldroy waited at either side of the doors of Ciel’s study, exchanging a stiff nod with Sebastian.

Neither of them looked at you, and neither of them was visibly armed, of course not. Mey-Rin could hardly handle dressing you, and you could work a furnace better than Baldroy. Still, you were outnumbered.

“After you,” Sebastian allowed you to open the office doors yourself, revealing Ciel, well-dressed in navy. He set his angular jaw, glaring in the same look he sent when he glowered at his enemies, Frances, Finley, and Arthur Randall.

Now, it was your turn. Being the target of such a look was like enduring a bullet to the chest.

“Your Highness,” Lord Phantomhive spat your pretend title like a curse, like the lie it was; a far cry from his usual fond sarcasm. “You don’t understand, I know,” he said gravely, looking at you as if you’d committed a crime. All you did was allow your feelings to grow too deep.

Now you understood; Ciel wasn’t referring to knowing your feelings. He was referring to the truth. From his shift in behavior, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, the supposed call from Scotland Yard informed him, no, led him to the truth. You would have understood if you hadn’t been such a fool, tangled by your useless feelings. And you would have let take his toast.

“Leave us, Sebastian,” Ciel ordered, ignoring Sebastian’s easy yes, my Lord, to fixate on you again. He only spoke once the door shut behind you.

“Now, let me explain how we will proceed, Your-” he faltered before he could retain the curt look he was trying to emulate. “Or shall I refer to you as Y/n behind closed doors?”

“Y/n,” you responded, his attitude fueling a growing rage within you, your vulnerability hardening like a callus.

“I would imagine at this stage of your life; you would prefer Y/n,” Ciel ignored you, “well, no matter what you choose to call yourself, we are to be married,” he said, pulling a velvet box out of his suit pocket. You might have thought he was joking if he hadn’t brandished the box like a weapon, you might have thought he was joking. He was torturing you before trying to slit your throat.

You scoffed instinctively. “No. No, that simply will not stand. I know what you do to your enemies before you dispose of them. You hurt them so much that they wish they were dead! You intend to torture me before you kill me.”

Despite your own words, you knew he was serious. You could see it on his face.

“I have to say, that's a rather short-sighted perspective. You have a competent mind; try to apply an inkling of logic here,” Ciel said, but you understood him well. He did intend to torture you by forcing you to live at his side for the rest of your life. As Marie for the rest of your life, a thought that now made you tempted to beg Sebastian for your thallium to drink yourself. While the idea seemed reasonable last night, it was when you thought you would have an understanding partner to be as you could manage.

“You are now Princess Marie of Schleswig-Holstein. The powers that be know what you did with your sister. How you disposed of her. Nevertheless, Her Majesty believes her living granddaughter is in my care. I cannot allow you to die or vanish under my watch,” he explained. “All the while…you can rot as the German princess for the rest of your life. It shall be your penance for your attempts on my life. Our union will ensure I enjoy the advantages of being a part of the royal family. Understand?”

Beyond rage and vile hatred, there was nothing in his face. He looked like a marble statue of a vengeful god, hauntingly handsome but brutally cruel.

Your face felt hot as a result of your anger, making the room feel hot. It made your head pound, your heartbeat indignantly thumping in your chest. Doña was correct; the Lord Ciel Phantomhive was a malicious and sadistic man. You should have ridden the world of him weeks ago, seeing how easily the Queen’s Guard Dog eclipsed the man who bandaged your finger and read you philosophy to coax you to deep slumber. The man you could fall asleep next to.

“Your hand, if you will?” Ciel ordered, opening the box to reveal an engagement ring. The ring was annoyingly beautiful. And annoyingly you. It was a black diamond cut into a circle, the band ornate rose gold with accenting sapphire and emerald gemstones within the swirling gold patterns. Sapphire and emerald indicated the union between the royal line and the Phantomhives.

“Y/n?” Ciel prompted, waiting for you to offer your hand a moment longer. At your refusal, he huffed impatiently, taking it upon himself to take your hand. The movement caused you to spring into action, wrapping the very hand he tried to grab around his palm. You put all your strength into squeezing Ciel’s hand, twisting it, so his thumb faced the outside of his body.

“Damn it! Let me go!” he demanded, spitting each word into staccato notes. His face tightened with pain. You weren’t twisting his wrist enough to break it, but enough to cause immense discomfort. He was lucky; if his loyal servants weren’t waiting outside the door, you would take a pen from his desk and plunge it into his carotid artery. His free hand raised as if he wanted to slap you, but he thought better.

With a glare, you obeyed, releasing him. “I can do it myself,” you snapped, picking the box up from the floor to slide the ring onto your left hand’s fourth finger. You wanted nothing more than to shove the ornate piece of jewelry down his throat, but for the time being, you could wait.

You would wait.

. . .

If you had the opportunity to take your supper in your room, you would have.

Instead, you were sitting through a thinly veiled interrogation, your asparagus risotto tortuously sitting in front of you. Yesterday, you were Atlas, the world's weight your shoulders, when Lizzie gave you her blessing to be with her cousin. Today, you were Tantalus, starving in many ways, with everything you wanted just out of reach.

“To be clear, you are the former Princess Helena-Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein,” Ciel confirmed as if he was still trying to come to terms with the fact that you had been lying to him for nearly four months. He had a pen and paper at the side of his plate, prepared to take notes. His bruising wrist sat on a sack of ice.

Your eyebrows knit together as you gave Ciel a dubious look that said: obviously.

“Y/n Y/l/n fits this stage of my life,” you smarted, reciting Ciel’s words from earlier that day. Not that you were particularly regal during your time undercover, not having to be perfect and in character lifted somewhat of a burden. You rolled your eyes as he scribbled down your name in his loopy script.

“How did you manage to get away? At ten. And live?”

“How do you manage to be so irksome? At eighteen. And not get murdered before I came along?” you shot back.

You didn’t understand why any of this was necessary to discuss. It was so far behind you, you hardly remembered it. Sure, you recognized the general culmination of your early teenage years. It was winter in the city, conning the rich with Baxter, summers in Alfriston, working and enjoying the countryside. Learning was year-round. Baxter was not educated in the sense a noble would appreciate, but he was the best teacher you’d ever have.

“Focus on the topic at hand, Y/n. I’m questioning you here.” Ciel said bitterly. “Who commissioned you to come here, then?”

Now, these were the sorts of questions you were expecting. The ones you’d prefer to answer. You would never sully the memory of your life with Baxter by telling Ciel about it. He was nothing if not similar to Baron Steven Wright.

“I’m not sure,” you said, silencing the beginnings of Ciel’s protest with a look. “She never told me her name. All I know is that she and her servants speak Spanish, she only wears beige, and she has a baby. And she is young.”

“I have never heard of such a person,” he mumbled, jotting down notes from your description. “Did she tell you why she wants me killed?”

“You killed her whole family. That is all she told me,” you explained before Ciel could pester you, “she never explained why, when or how.”

Clearly, the Earl didn’t believe you. If you were in his place, you doubted you would trust your words either. After all, you could very well be lying. But you weren’t that loyal to Doña. Not since she sent forces to the manor to attack you, intentionally putting you in harm’s way and calling it motivation.

Ciel set his pen flat on the table, taking a slow inhale. “Y/n, if I must, I can certainly find ways to jog your memory. Surely you have better recollection than what you’ve been telling me. Must I motivate you?” he asked, fingers meaningfully grazing the butter knife on his place setting.

You failed to fight the mocking smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. He was threatening you and all you could think about was how easily you could end him. Ciel Phantomhive was a spoiled Earl with a butler to wait on him and he thought he could challenge you, an experienced killer and successfully jog your memory?

“You could try, yes. But more likely, you would require your butler to carry out such a task,” you took a leisurely spoonful out of your risotto, shaking your head. The man across from you had a boundless ego; that was certain. “And that’s presuming you live long enough to wail for him. You’re a weak excuse for an Earl.”

To his credit, Ciel’s composure remained steadfast, despite your purposeful jab. “Allow me to remind you: you couldn’t bring yourself to kill me. You were too weak to carry out your job, and that is how you ended up in this predicament. Don’t you dare presume to call me weak, Y/n.”

“You are simply a pompous coward!” you exclaimed, his words igniting your veins as you rose from your chair. Ciel did the same, his fingers wrapping around the knife he was previously caressing. Your stomach twisted into embarrassed knots, manipulating you into feeling seasick.

Of course, he would weaponize your affection for him. That’s what unfeeling, heartless men did when there was nothing more to fault about a person. A low, predictable blow.

Yesterday, he held you close, leading you around the dance floor in graceful steps. Steps you taught him. Admittedly, under false pretenses but truly, Ciel knew it was still you, no matter what you lied about. And he was afraid of that.

You’d show him a low blow.

Before you could stop yourself, you drove the side of your hand, pinky first, into the bit of muscle neck to Ciel’s neck. He was taller, but not so much that your arm had difficulty reaching him when you pounced. You forced him to bend at the waist by taking your opposite hand and taking hold of his shirt. You used all of your body weight to pull him down in his pained haze, pinning him on the floor. His knife clattered to the floor.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ciel protested, breathless from the floor, knocking the wind out of his lungs. “You’re a bloody lunatic!” He thrashed under you, using his taller frame to shove you off. Against biological advantages, your training could only help you so much. Besides, floor combat was not your specialty.

“And what will you do, Ciel Phantomhive? Call for your butler to save you?” You taunted, fingers clutching either opening of his jacket to try to force his head to crash into the floor. You failed.

Instead, Ciel drove his kneecap into your stomach, causing a flare of pain to erupt in your abdomen. Despite his bad wrist, he managed to shove you away and take hold of his knife, which was close enough for him to reach without giving you time to recover. He used his taller frame to keep you pinned against the floor, pressing the butter knife’s rounded tip into your throat, right over your racing pulse. The silver instrument felt cold against your warm skin.

“No; I can handle an imposing girl on my own,” Ciel growled, digging the point into your flesh threateningly. Your knees squirmed under his straddle, hindered by your heavy skirts. His non-dominant hand kept your arm in place with a steely grip that dug into your forearm, leaving your arm bent at the elbow, a 90-degree angle.

For a moment too long, Ciel watched you uncertainly. He seemed undecided on where he wanted to train his gaze, the knife imprinting in your skin (yet to cause any bleeding) or your lips. The latter seemed to be winning, to your twisted amusement. At the end of the day, Ciel Phantomhive was a man, and it wasn’t like the fatal, magnetic attraction between the both of you could disintegrate in two days.

But this was a matter of survival.

“And I can handle a spoiled Earl!” you grunted, using the heel of your free hand to drive into his nose. Your revelation fueled the sudden burst of adrenaline you used to power your arm, using his confusion to twist your body and force his dead weight to the side.

Ciel cursed, grumbling an unabashed host of unflattering names directed towards you. His hands instinctively flew to his bleeding nose, trying to figure if it was broken or not. “You are just out of your mind!” he exclaimed, “an unruly loon!”

“No more so than you are,” you responded, rising to your feet with the help of a chair. Your stomach complained, pained by the sharp kick it took, but you ignored it. With the Earl distracted with his new injuries, you could make a reasonable shot at escape. “Now, seeing as you simply cannot handle this strong woman, I will be making my leave! Try and stop me if you still think yourself capable!”

Ciel’s yell for his servants sounded far away as you bounded down the corridor.

What could they do? Mey-Rin could hardly handle your evening tea; Baldroy seemed to be most keen on playing with his flamethrower before all else, and Finny was about as innocent as a child. Your focus needed to be on evading Sebastian’s inhuman strength and agility.

“Stop this instant! You will pay dearly for your insolence!” Ciel’s footsteps followed you, but you ignored them. He was a distraction, and if you heeded his words, you would lose your lead.

Thankfully, the Earl surrendered to his fragile constitution. Breathing heavily, he stopped chasing you, his asthma likely irritated by the initial brawl you started in the dining room and the sudden chase. Even your lungs burned, but you couldn’t afford to slow. Sebastian always pounced when you let your guard down.

You pushed the servant’s entrance open, letting the heavy doors slam behind you. The sound echoed through the cellar, but at least you managed to get outside. The sky was clear, the sun beaming.

It only took a few paces before you suffered from your mistake: looking up, rather than where you were going. Novice mistake, seeing as you only made it a few paces before slamming into someone.

“Um, Your High-- Y/n, you really shouldn’t be out here,” Finny said, frowning anxiously. His white gardening gloves tugged at his work shirt, fiddling. The sun made his blond hair shine as if Rumplestiltskin wove it from pure gold. He looked guilty even though you were the one on the run.

“Step aside,” you ordered, truly having no desire to harm an innocent man such as the Phantomhive estate gardener. “I have no grievances against you, Finny. Allow me to pass and I will let you live,” there was more confidence in your voice than you felt, Sebastian’s looming threat crawling up your back, turning your bones to lead.

The gardener was unconvinced. “No, Miss, I’m sorry, but that just won’t do. My master said that you have to remain on estate grounds….”

You pulled your lips into a tight purse. There was no time for this debate.

Without wasting another moment, you pulled Finny’s skinny body close by his shoulders. Inspired by Ciel, you jammed your knee into his abdomen with all your strength; right under his ribcage on the right side of his stomach. You could hit someone in the liver blindfolded; you were lucky Ciel wasn’t as trained as you were. Such a blow was brutal. And dirty.

“Ow!” The gardener cried out and crumbled to the ground, the impact against his ribs sending a shock through his body. It decreased his blood pressure to make him black out.

Ow was correct. You surely bruised your knee with that blow, but you didn’t have time to care about that or the morality of hurting an innocent. While Finny wasn’t visibly armed and had a child’s disposition, you didn’t know the full extent of his capabilities. You weren’t a success in your field because you acted according to your initial estimations.

You had warned him, after all.

But just when you thought your exit to the forest line was free, a gunshot echoed throughout the vicinity. It was a gunshot, unmistakably, it came from behind you, but when you turned your head, no one was there. It wasn’t until you looked up that you realized where it came from.

There was a single individual perched on the roof of the manor, difficult to spot in the light but unmistakably there. They sent another shot your way, but they narrowly missed; an incredible feat given the distance between you at ground level and the shooter at the peak of the building. You jumped, instincts forcing you to move to the side and give one last look in an attempt to discern who your next enemy was.

They had a feminine figure, clad in black and white. A…maid’s costume.

Your blood ran cold. It couldn’t be. Mey-Rin? The silly maid who broke tea set after tea set?

She had no qualms about shooting again, this bullet piercing a hole through your petticoat, centimeters from your skin. The gunshot rang throughout the estate once more, cracking with the same power you heard when Doña sent those men. At least you weren’t the only undercover killer. You had to admit; it was clever of Ciel to keep a skilled sniper about his manor at all times.

But it wasn’t enough. She had a good shot because you were out in the open, nearing the treeline as you ran once more. Every bit of your body complained, feet aching from your heeled boots. Ciel pressed hard enough to draw blood, considering there was crimson blood dripping down your neck.

You used your anger to fuel each step, but after you passed the forest line, the bullets only grew more rapid, as if another marksman joined Mey-Rin. You refused to waste time and look back, but a lucky shot gave you no choice, grazing your side, the combined force and pain tripping you.

Who could manage such a shot?

Nobody human, that was for sure.

You fell to the ground panting and just as involuntarily as Finny did. Your trembling hands tried to cover the raw wound on your right side. Even your ankle throbbed, insinuating that you twisted it in your fall. Excessive dryness overwhelmed your mouth and tongue, the desire for cold water more consuming than the searing heat the bullet caused. All you could smell was a combination of blood and your own burnt flesh.

“Whoa,” you hardly heard yourself, “ouch.” The destruction the grazed bullet left made your stomach turn, showing off red, turgid flesh. Rolling onto your back, you tried to guide your shaking hands back over the wound, but it only stung.

“Get up, Y/n,” Baxter urged from the back of your mind, but it was no use. How you wished you could tell him so. “You can do difficult things. Get up. Use what’s around you, girl. God put a brain in that skull for a reason.”

You used your non-dominant hand to touch a tree’s coarse bark and press against its sturdy trunk. By putting your weight against the sturdy trunk, you rose to your feet, but the second you tried to walk, you would have fallen back to the forest floor if a set of arms hadn’t caught you.

“This game of chase is quite a silly waste of time, wouldn’t you think so?” Sebastian’s shadow loomed over you since he caught you from behind. Ironically, like a childish trust exercise. “You were much easier to manage when all you preferred to do was read, if I may be so blunt,” he mused, quickly scooping you into his arms.

“I hate you,” you seethed, only causing Sebastian to chuckle.

“I’m not so fond of you, either, Miss Y/n. You are alive because my master wishes for it. Mey-Rin could have easily shot a bullet through your heart, much like Finny could have crushed you like an insignificant ant. In the same way, I could snap your neck with my bare hands. You live per my Lord’s wishes; please do keep that in mind,” Sebastian said jovially, applying firm pressure to your wound. Your blood soiled his white gloves, formerly pristine.

Sebastian’s eyes glowed in the sunlight as he walked you back to the estate’s clearing or because he wasn’t human.

“What are you, Sebastian?” You drawled, ignoring the threatening overtones in his voice. “No one is this perfect.”

He didn’t seem taken aback by your question in the slightest. Instead, it only made his smile deepen.

“Why, I’m simply one hell of a butler. There is no need for flattery when you so clearly detest me, Miss. I have no use for your compliments.”

. . .

“And she isn’t dead?” Your closed door muffled Ciel’s question. By the time he came to check on you, recovering from his own injuries, Sebastian had your side bandaged tightly. No stitches needed. A sack of ice sat on your ankle. At his demonic butler’s confirmation, he mumbled a nearly indiscernible good.

“You look like hell,” you said upon Ciel’s entry, noting the bandage over his slightly swollen nose. There was some redness under his eyes, but you knew you didn’t hit him hard enough to break his nose. You regretted that, considering his maid of all people reduced you to this bedridden mess of a person.

“And you are quite fortunate I instructed my servants to fight to deter, not to kill,” Ciel settled on the desk chair at your bedside. He held ice against his wrist, stare flitting to the dressed cut on your throat and your bored expression.

“You are fortunate I decided to fight to deter, not to kill. Otherwise, both you and your gardener would be dead at this very moment,” you sighed, briefly wondering how Finny was faring. Sebastian told you Baldroy, and Mey-Rin were tending to him as he roused from his unconsciousness-- tired but not permanently hurt.

“Your pride will undo you, Y/n.

“You say as if you are the wiser,” you replied stubbornly. If he wouldn’t kill or release you, you intended to make him wish to. But as you watched him, his injured yet fully intact spirit, a question rose to your tongue: before you could stop it: “when did you learn the truth?”

After a long, reluctant look, Ciel’s resolve crumbled. “If you recall, it was the phone call I’d received from the Yard the morning before the wedding….”

APRIL 1ST, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

“Right, if it is a…dire matter, I shall tend to it. Of course,” Ciel ran his palms over his suit to wipe their perspiration, slowly forming from the exertion the waltz required, his mortification, and Princess Marie’s warmth. “Thank you, Your Highness. Sebastian, see to lunch preparations for after this call.”

After dipping his head to the flushed princess, Ciel quickly showed himself up the stairs, retreating slightly faster than the situation required. He couldn’t help himself; the butterflies in his stomach made him feel jittery. They made his face grow hot and red, like some fool who wore his heart on his sleeve. He wanted them gone.

He was Ciel Phantomhive, the Queen’s Guard Dog, for heaven’s sake! He couldn’t have felt like this for anyone, yet the princess permanently ingrained herself in his mind. It was a repulsive set of impulses, wanting to be around the same person, craving the sight of their smile, studying their person-- every word that slipped their lips, every subtly in their comments.

Ciel’s thoughts made him nauseous.

From the time he took to trudge up the stairs and slump at his desk, Ciel nearly forgot to pick up the phone. The Yard called again, and the ringing pulled him from his princess-induced stupor.

“Lord Phantomhive!” Fred Abberline’s inquisitive voice sounded over the line. The background murmuring told Ciel that the detective was not in his office alone. A higher-up must have requested he make the call. “We are re-opening the Amelia Dyer case. Please come to the station as soon as you can manage.”

“What could you possibly mean you’re re-opening the Amelia Dyer case? We ruled it an accident for lack of physical evidence, did we not?” Ciel asked, his fingers rubbing at the forming wrinkles in his forehead.

“We found her body, sir. It was floating in the Thames and preserved in the cold water all this time. She was murdered.”

“I will be on my way. I will be there within the hour,” Ciel said, wasting no time putting on a jacket and readying himself. He ordered Sebastian to watch over Her Highness and the estate; Ciel could handle himself in the city.

Amelia Dyer’s body was blistered, and a sickly green color, but her injuries were apparent: the intentional severing of both popliteal arteries, judging by the location of each clever cut. From each gaping wound, Ciel saw layers of adipocere developing or wax that forms in a submerged fatty tissue during decomposition in freezing water.

“She was indeed murdered,” Ciel agreed. No one could easily reach such vital points, and an average person would opt for an easier suicide. No average prostitute from a train station would know how to make such precise and vengeful cuts. This murderer conducted their crime with revenge as a focal point, slowly letting the baby farmer bleed out by severing the backs of her knees. “Leave me be, Abberline. I have to think.”

Staring into Amelia Dyer’s dead gaze, Ciel reviewed what he knew:

The woman murdered unwanted infants. A case in point, she murdered the woman in the train station’s infant because the prostitute’s husband had no desire to raise a bastard child. Aghast and vengeful, the woman begged Princess Marie to kill Amelia Dyer and return her child to her. She mistook her for her sister, Y/n.

Y/n was the former princess Helena-Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein, confirmed by the Undertaker, the estate’s attackers, and there was no physical evidence supporting her death. It was presumed, after two weeks of searching.

As indicated by the Undertaker, she was an active and heavily experienced contract killer.

An experienced killer would know how to sever one’s popliteal arteries and do so vengefully, clearing believing they are serving justice.

Amelia Dyer died the night the prostitute confronted Princess Marie at the train station.

Princess Marie killed a man with a pen and knocked another unconscious. That could not be formal self-defense training. She could hardly stand upright on ice skates, a vital skill for a royal. Her dancing was laced with uncertainty. She never corresponded with her family. She first cared to ask about Ciel’s investigative endeavors after he observed the Dyer crime scene.

Y/n killed countless victims in numerous ways, most subtle enough to keep Ciel, the bloody King of the Underworld, unsuspecting.

Princess Marie was ill the day following Amelia Dyer’s death.

Now, Ciel was ill himself, sickened from his theory. He pushed past Abberline to return to his estate, needing to rifle through the dozens of German newspapers he possessed tucked away in his desk. Each headline mentioned Princess Marie in one way or another, and he needed to compare the most recent image to the girl imprinted in the front of his mind.

Newspaper-Marie: no cheekbone scar, frown lines, innocent smile, bright eyes.

Ciel’s Marie: cheekbone scar upon close inspection, deep scowl lines, caustic grin, observant eyes.

Ciel’s eyes stung as he took an impossible breath in. His intense grip on the printed paper in his hands tore it. He put all of his rage into crumpling the paper into a tight ball, lobbing the ball across his study.

The prostitute beseeched the correct twin. That was why Sebastian couldn’t locate Y/n. She was under their noses, posing as her sister. Making a fool of him. Teasing him. Lying to him…

On a mission. To kill him. He was Y/n’s next target.

“Sebastian!” Ciel all but screamed, salty tears forming in his eyes. The intensity, he stood up and knocked his office chair into the bay window behind him.

It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be.

“Yes, my Lord,” Sebastian entered, closing the door behind him. He was entirely too calm in the face of his vexed master. “I see you’ve put the pieces together. Excellent, sir.”

“You knew?” Ciel asked, his hands slamming on his desk. The demon didn��t even flinch. Instead, he chuckled.

“Not for certain, although I admit I had my suspicions.”

“And you said nothing?” Ciel shouted, fingers curling into a fist. Marie was Y/n, Marie was Y/n, Marie was Y/n, Marie was Y/n.

Someone hired her to kill him. Everything they’d experienced together in the past several weeks was a lie staged by one of his enemies, orchestrated like a polished symphony, predictable like a play.

This was why he couldn’t find anyone who could threaten the crown: no one did. It was all fabricated to push Princess Marie into his care.

“It was not my place,” Sebastian said. “I am but a chess piece for you to move, my Lord. It has never been my position to accuse a princess of being an imposter. Certainly not as your lowly butler. That being said… how do you wish to proceed, my Lord?”

Ciel blinked rapidly. He would not cry. He refused. All humans lied; there was nothing different about this deception. Once again, he caught the actual criminal, and in the end, he was correct: finding Y/n would solve the case.

Ciel cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “We will proceed with the wedding as usual and make our move once it passes. The Midfords expect the princess to be present, and we shall not disappoint them. Our confrontation will have to take place the morning after. In the meantime, I need you to commission a specific ring….”

You cringed throughout Ciel’s recount of the day before the wedding. The call from the Yard, how he described Amelia Dyer’s body, and his thought process. How he seamlessly unraveled every one of your lies with this single clue.

“You did well,” you admitted begrudgingly, speaking to the very glittering on your finger. “Not many people would have been able to come to this conclusion,” you sighed, “truly a brilliant job, Guard Dog.”

If it weren’t for that phone call, you could have been on your way to the States, preparing to start anew.

You knew you should have allowed Dyer’s body to char with her cursed house.

. . .

Tags

34 notes · View notes

yoonpobs · 4 years ago

Text

bad boy good thing xiv.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 690

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello!!!! we’re here at fourteen chapters omg ✨✨when i first started this series it was mostly self-indulgent and now there are people who actually enjoy reading it??🥺 it almost doesn’t seem real T.T

thank you so much for the love and support!!! just so I don't give too much spoilers for this chap - I apologise to my fellow geminis for the potential slander 🤣 this is more of a self-drag lmaooo

anyway, I hope you enjoy this chap!!!

“Ah. I’m getting allergies.” Yena sniffs, scrunching her nose.

You furrow your brows in concern, “Are you okay? Do you need any medicine?”

“It’s just the seasonal changes,” She brushes you off.

You nod in understanding, “I get it. My mom has horrible reactions towards pollen so—”

“I’m not allergic to flowers.” She blinks.

“Then what—?”

“It’s Gemini season. It’s like—literally the worst time of the year.” She blinks.

You gawk at her, taking a whole ten seconds to process her serious tone when she doesn’t waver under your scrutiny.

“I’m a Gemini,” You inform her slowly.

“I mean …” She shrugs all as you scowl at her, opting to throw the closest object you had, which was your favourite pen so you decide against it; simply shooting her the meanest glare you could possibly muster.

“Look, it’s not you,” She sighs, and you’re half-expecting her to finish with an it’s me to make you scoff, “It’s me.” And there you go. “I mean, it’s Gemini’s in general because they’re two-faced bitches who have the worst emotional attachment issues. Like they’re literally what the opposite of glue is. And they’re so over-analytical. How is it like psychoanalysing every person you meet only to hurt your own feelings and sulk about it?”

You blink.

“I mean it’s not you but if the shoe fits.” She says casually, plopping a grape into her mouth that you’re tempted to slap away.

“You’re so mean!” You pout indignantly.

She cackles, throwing her head back as you continue to sulk. You weren’t that bad. You just … you were risk-averse! You liked having the freedom to observe everyone and anyone and package them into tiny compartments in your head so you could understand them better. You weren’t … that Gemini.

“You’re so cute,” She coos pinching your cheeks. “No wonder Beef One and Beef Two like you so much.” She teases.

Your first reaction is to blush because you know who exactly she’s talking about, but you have more pressing matters, like—

“You have nicknames for them?” You ask, baffled.

“Hey, I wasn’t friends with many girls in high school. Don’t girls usually have nicknames for their crushes?” She says through a pout.

You stay expressionless as you try to gauge the level of seriousness you can extract from her tone.

You realise she’s dead serious.

“Yeah, but we’re in college,” You argue, scrunching your nose, “And sides’, it’s not like they’re strangers. We know them.”

She rolls her eyes, waving you off like you were the inconvenience here. Then she leans forward, her eyes twinkling as she takes a complete one-eighty that you try to adjust to.

“So … you Gemini hoe, what’s your plans?” She nudges you.

You raise a brow, “Did you just call me a—?”

“Plans, ___. Stay on track.” She scolds.

You sigh, still fond but you pretend to be annoyed. You really couldn’t get annoyed with Yena. After all, the more time you spend with her the more you realise how much life sucked before you had her in your life. You spent each moment learning more about her quirks and habits, her choice of words that made you giggle or laugh until you were crying.

And you realise that this is how she loves, a little rough but welcomed nonetheless.

“If you’re talking about my birthday then … not much. I’m probably stuck doing admin work for the college’s charity programme.” You shrug, stabbing a fork into your soiled salad.

Yena gapes at you, “Not much—excuse me? It’s your birthday! You’re turning twenty-five!”

You look at her dryly, “I’ve been twenty-five since the year—”

She groans, “That’s not the same! You’re like—officially twenty-five. You’re literally hitting the mark for a quarter-life crisis. Isn’t that something to celebrate?”

“Me going through an existential crisis at the end of my degree is not how I want to celebrate my birthday but okay,” You blink.

She rolls her eyes at your realism.

“That’s not the point. Point is, this is our first birthday together and I want it to be special.” She points out.

You snort, “What? Are we doubling my birthday as our monthsary or something?”

She shoves you with a brute force that has you snickering but she continues to pester you anyway.

“You’re so dumb. So smart, but so dumb,” She shakes her head, “You’re always studying or doing some form of work that requires the use of more than one brain cell. You deserve a break. Besides, you have two dudes to pick from on how you’d like to be wined and dined and—”

“Yena!” You whine.

“—it’ll be like an episode of the Bachelorette! But just with a super cool and smart best friend that’ll make the decision for you. It’s not your birthday. It’s ours.” She emphasises towards the end.

You stare at her for a long second, before the two of you are bursting into laughter at the absurdity of her statement.

It was nice, just to laugh about things without having your heart feel so heavy. Even if it was a mild distraction, it was still wholly pleasant to be able to just talk about mindless things that didn’t require much mental gymnastics to navigate the conversation with.

“What are the two of you laughing about?” Taehyung and Jimin arrive at impeccable timing, sliding into the booth with their own packaged food. It’s very college-student-esque, a cute paper (because no plastic) container filled with an array of assortments.

“None of your XY chromosomes business.” Yena retorts.

Jimin blinks, “You are literally so hostile.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to be.” She sticks her tongue out petulantly.

You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder, “Be nice.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but manages to keep a civil smile on his face. Always the more rational one between the two.

“Anyway, Yena definitely isn’t going to answer me so, what’s up?” He turns to look at you.

You roll your eyes but it’s half-hearted, “She wants to celebrate my birthday like we’re on the Bachelorette.”

“Like you’re on the Bachelorette.” She corrects.

“Oh my God, our baby’s turning twenty-five!” Jimin coos at the reminder, pinching your cheeks as he coddles you. You scowl and weakly shove him away, even if you preen under the attention.

“I’m literally older than the both of you.” You huff.

Yena blinks, “There’s no way I’m the oldest person at this table.”

Taehyung furrows his brows, “Wait—how old are you?”

She sends him a scathing glare that has his arms raised up in defence.

“Jeez, okay. Don’t answer.”

“I’m going to answer because you told me not to.” She clips. “I’m twenty-seven.”

Jimin blinks, “No wonder you and Yoongi hyung are so alike.”

You almost miss it, but as Yena so eloquently pointed out, you were a sucker for psychoanalysing people (even if you didn’t want to admit it yet) that you notice the way she flushes ever so slightly as she scoffs.

“Him? How dare you compare me to that sorry excuse of a—!”

“Okay, everyone is beneath you. I’m sorry your highness.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

You make a note to ask her about it because you know for a fact that Yoongi ‘complains’ about Yena every hour he can. It’s almost as if he can’t go long enough without mentioning her.

You smile to yourself as you duck your head.

“Exactly,” She flips her hair over her shoulders before turning to face you. “Anyway, back to you—our baby.”

Taehyung nods, “Exactly, the baby.”

You scrunch your nose, “Don’t coddle me.”

He pats your head before cooing at you like he would to an actual baby, “But you’re just so cute. You’re too good for this shitty world. Too good for the likes of mere mortals like us.”

“Not me.” Yena blinks before gesturing to their bodies, “You.”

Jimin sticks his tongue out in retaliation as you sigh at their never-ending bickering.

Somehow … it felt right. You think it most of the times but you don’t know any other way to describe how it feels to be back with your friends, laughing, bickering and just appreciating their presence.

When you and Jungkook had your issues, it was like you made the conscious choice to avoid everyone and anyone as much as you could, and any interaction you had during that period was purely out of coincidences and not the intention. You remember actively avoiding Jimin and Taehyung because it felt too draining to pretend like you didn’t have a battle in your head. Even studying or spending time with Namjoon made you feel guilty, the thought of Jungkook lingering in your mind. Yena was there through it all, but even then you saw her as much as you did with any of your classmates you so happened to share a class with.

In fact, if it weren’t for Yena you’d probably have zero social interactions as a whole because she just knew. She somehow picked up on your internal conflicts but never outwardly shamed you or confronted you about it. All she did was be there for you, offering you her presence and you were grateful.

So, yeah. Things were better, but your heart was still at its core—confused. Your feelings for Jungkook didn’t disappear overnight and you knew that you were the one that asked for space.

You forgave him … you did, honestly. But there are things you can’t forget, and those are the things that you wished you could. The words he said in principle, was outright shitty. But the fact that it came from him only poked at every single one of your insecurities that you developed over the years.

You knew it wasn’t healthy to compare yourself to other women when they were living vastly different lives than you were, but it’s proven difficult when you’re forced to see these type of women every day, at college, in your community work or on the media.

Believing Jungkook’s apparent feelings for you was harder because, well. Jungkook was Jungkook. He wasn’t just another guy, and despite his shortcomings, he had more merits than he’d let on and you knew that people saw that. It was also the fact that Jungkook had a charm that drew all types of people in. He was soft-spoken but passionate, and people loved a quiet achiever.

You … knew about the women. Way before Jennie and way before the thing between the two of you happened. Jimin and Taehyung would always update you about the new fling or girl he had tied to his hip just as he was in his final year in high school. You had to force a smile every single time they’d snicker and joke about how your Jungkook suddenly became a man overnight.

And you noticed the trend with the women he liked. They were … captivating. Beautiful wasn’t even enough to describe them because they looked like they could carry the world on their shoulders and spark immense change with just the movement of their lips. They were confident and charismatic, outgoing and just the right amount of flirty. You were anything but.

It sucked, majorly, because you spent years agonising over the fact that you were already coined with the older sister title in the group because of the way you acted—just a little more uptight than the average woman your age. You were quiet but loud in the right company; you didn’t like crowds, socialising or mingling around with people you didn’t know and based on your observations it seemed like that was the only thing that Jungkook’s been doing ever since he made it to senior year in high school, and even in the first years of college.

You don’t resent him, you think. You couldn’t blame him because you weren’t honest either. You consented, to all of the kisses and touches even if he hadn’t officially had sex with you. You wanted to, but you were terrified. Not at the prospect of penetration but at the prospect of not being enough and the fact that Jungkook was the only person you wanted to have sex with while he had options that were far more attractive and experienced than you were.

That’s why you needed time because at least you could get your shit together even if it was an uphill battle.

“Earth to ____?” Taehyung waves a hand in front of your face with a concerned expression.

You blink, snapping out of your daze as you offer a meek smile and an apology.

“We just asked you if you wanted a small get together at Tae’s and I’s place for your birthday?” Jimin asks.

“Really?” You beam. That was exactly what you preferred.

“Yeah, we know you don’t like clubs and stuff. Just a small and intimate gathering with all your best buds.” He grins.

You nod your head, but Yena beats you to a response.

“By best buds you mean the three friends she has, which is us and the two meatheads duelling for her affection.” She snorts.

You flush, “Y-Yena!”

Taehyung snickers at your embarrassment.

“It doesn’t help that both of them are literally the biggest dudes on the football team. It’s literally like watching King Kong and Godzilla getting into a fight for world domination.”

Jimin throws his back in laughter as you fold your arms across your chest at post at the way your friends are practically crying in laughter at the image. Jimin was clutching onto Taehyung for his dear life because if he didn’t then he’d fall off the chair.

“Stop,” You whine, “you guys are being mean.”

“Oh my God, you’re literally the only person on this earth that would take two people fighting for your attention as an offence.” Taehyung groans.

“I-It’s not that!” You deny exasperatedly, “I-It’s just … awkward …”

Jimin sighs with a small smile, patting your head.

“If it’s any consolation I think it’s offensive that Jungkook thinks he even has the right to breathe in—”

“Jimin!”

“Wow. It really is like King Kong and Godzilla.” Jimin whistles lowly, eyeing the scene before him with amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Do you think they’re gonna start slamming their chests soon or …?” Taehyung trails off in a whisper, leaning into Jimin so that the two other men wouldn’t notice.

“I can literally hear you.” You say dryly.

Jimin offers you a plastic smile, “You’re meant to hear us, babe. How about you try to tame them like Jane did with Tarzan?”

Jimin nearly shrieks when you shove him so fiercely that he topples over into Taehyung’s grasp as the second part of the duo only catches him in the process.

You sigh, completely ignoring the way that Jimin’s muttering curses that were directed to you under his breath. Instead, you were transfixed on the scene before you—which specifically is Jungkook and Namjoon staring each other down through the mirror of the gym. You were lucky that it was just the five of you since Namjoon was able to use his captain privileges to book the gym because you had no idea how to explain the fact that two big-sized men were attempting to outdo each other in their circuit reps as if they were on a suicide mission.

“Listen, when I agreed to help you out with your sets I thought I was meant to help log it in for a report.” You exasperate, but the two men continue their manly lift-off as they huff and puff their exertion away.

“Trust me, you are helping. Being the motivation is more than—”

This time it’s Taehyung who faces your wrath as you thwack him upside the head.

From where Jungkook and Namjoon were, Jungkook can only deliver death stares into the direction of his captain who returns it tenfold. He wasn’t even sure why they were doing this but something a flicked definitely switched in Jungkook when Namjoon (purposefully) revealed that you were helping out with something. At the gym. Supposedly alone.

Jungkook’s primitive side came out because the next thing Namjoon knew was that Jungkook managed to drag himself, and Jimin and Taehyung as a diversion. He still feels his chest swell with pride when recalling the scowl on Namjoon’s face when he entered the gym, all fake smiles and a pep in his step.

“____, could you help me spot?” Namjoon breathes, sitting up from whatever the hell he was doing with the barbell. You weren’t fixated with gym language and you weren’t even sure why he was asking you when there was an entire Jimin and Taehyung right next to you.

“Uh, okay sure—“

“Noona,” Jungkook calls.

You freeze.

“Jungkook … I thought we established that you don’t need to call me that anymore.” You raise an eyebrow.

You miss the obvious glare that Namjoon shoots his bitchass friend, as well as the snorts that leave Jimin and Taehyung’s mouth.

“Pay attention to me,” Jungkook pouts. Like, actually pouts. You somehow flush because he seemed so much like the younger version of Jungkook who used to always coddle you for attention.

“Okay but after I help—”

“Yeah. After she helps me.” Namjoon interjects, and you nearly jump at the way he’s suddenly behind you, more so—pressed against your back with his hands on your hips as he moves you aside to get to another piece of equipment.

Your breath hitches because while you weren’t exactly invested in Namjoon in the romantic sense, he was undeniably attractive and … big. You could salivate in private.

“Oh my God, do you see that?” Taehyung hisses in a hushed whisper.

“Hyung is petty,” Jimin gawks.

“This is Namjoon we’re talking about. Didn’t he steal all the umbrellas from your dorm because you ratted him out to the librarian when he broke a bookshelf?” Taehyung recalls.

Jimin pauses to retract his mind to that moment.

“He’s so petty and I’m living for it. Look at Kook’s face,” He snickers, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder.

Jungkook only can clench his jaw in return because he knew that you wouldn’t be a fan of him reaching out to strangle the shit out of Namjoon. But the older boy seems fine, if not pleased with how Jungkook’s fuming in his own spot.

“Let me just …” You cock a thumb to Namjoon, before releasing a breath of your own and going to help him with whatever he needed in the first place.

“Jimin can help him. I have a more pressing problem.” He complains.

You stop in your tracks before turning around, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook who finally sits up, still staring at you like you held all the solutions in the world.

“Literally wait for your turn,” Namjoon scowls.

“My arm hurts,” Jungkook says, raising his arm to show you.

“I don’t … see anything?” You furrow your brows.

“Because my muscles hurt, Noona,” Jungkook emphasises with a flex of his bicep and you can feel yourself get hot in the way your eyes can’t stray away.

You’re momentarily distracted by the blatant display of muscle by Jungkook that you completely miss the way that Jimin and Taehyung are struggling to breathe because of how hard they’re stifling their laughter or the way that Namjoon is contemplating on throwing the nearest dumbbell into Jungkook’s direction.

You flush, “Okay, you know what? Wait here. Let me get the first aid kit.” You mumble, quickly scampering off to alleviate yourself from the situation.

The moment you leave the room, Namjoon takes two long strides until he reaches where Jungkook’s sat, before wrapping a hand around the arm that was supposedly hurt—and squeezes.

“Ow! What the fuck hyung?!” Jungkook shrieks.

“Don’t hyung me, you brat.” Namjoon seethes, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook gapes, while Jimin and Taehyung watch in amusement.

“Me?! What’s wrong with you?” Jungkook retorts, equally as agitated, “Oh, _____, help spot me! Woe is me! Like she wouldn’t get crushed under you, you meathead!”

“Like you’re any better,” Namjoon snaps, “Oh, Noona, pay attention to me. My arm hurts. You might as well have asked her to change your fucking diapers at the rate you’re acting like a damn child.”

“You’re the one that started all of this!” Jungkook exasperates, “With all due respect hyung, I love you and you’re my captain but I really feel like smashing your head into the wall right now.”

“That’s it?” Namjoon scoffs, “Well I’ll do you one better and let you know that every time you breathe in my direction I feel like—”

“Oh my God will you two idiots shut the fuck up?” Taehyung interjects, snapping at the two boys who pause, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Even Jimin is surprised at Taehyung’s intervention, purely because he was the type that usually let shit slide or let other people put problematic individuals into place. He was the mediator, the diplomat—not usually the aggressor.

“Wha—”

“Another peep and I’m going to smother your body under the dumbbells and leave you here to rot and die.” Taehyung seethes, staring straight into Jungkook’s soul.

That shuts him up.

“Both of you are acting like goddamn children, and for what? To battle out your masculinity to see who gets ____’s attention first?” Taehyung exasperates.

Namjoon clears his throat, “We were just—”

“—acting like a bunch of barbarians who’s never seen civilisation?” Taehyung retorts dryly, “Yeah. Because that’s exactly what this looks like. The two of you are so petty and for what? You two are literally rubbing the last remaining brain cells you have with each other but nothing is coming out from it. Like—nothing. Do you think she’d give a shit which one of you can lift more reps? That means absolutely nothing! She’s already freaked the fuck out at the prospect of her childhood best friend being in love with her and now we have Big Tit Number One and Two battling it out like you’re in the Greek Olympics.”

Jungkook blinks, and Jimin is mildly impressed.

“So before she comes back and tends to Jungkook’s hurt muscle,” Taehyung sneers, eyes narrowing at a guilty-looking Jungkook, “Both of you better sort your shit out.”

Namjoon flushes, embarrassed at the prospect of being called out, all while Jungkook is avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Oh my God, do you have a crush on each other or something? Apologise!” Taehyung gestures towards the two boys who awkwardly blink at each other, feeling much like reprimanded children.

It’s Namjoon who breaks the silence first, clearly the more mature one in the situation.

“Look … Jungkook,” He sighs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … drag it out like this. I don’t mean it maliciously and you’re my friend and teammate, so I’d really hate if a girl got in the way.”

Jungkook nibbles on his lips, eyebrows still scrunched; and the irrational part of him tells him to ignore the apology. But with the way that Taehyung is glaring him down, with Jimin’s expectant gaze, he knows that he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“I’m sorry … too,” he winces at his own voice, “But just to let you know … I really …” He shuts his eyes, feeling his chest tighten when he tries to force the words out, “She isn’t just … a girl to me, hyung. I really, really like her. And—I know you like her too but … I fucked up and I really want to make things right and seeing you—”

Jungkook is flushing while he rambles on, fully aware that the rest of his friends are listening intently to him speaking his heart. But a hand rests itself on his shoulder, and when Jungkook opens his eyes he sees Namjoon offering him a gentle smile.

“I know,” He says, “I know I said I wouldn’t back off …” He trails off and Jungkook recalls the conversation he had with him in the very same gym just a few weeks back, “But I don’t think I can compete with a decade long love story.”

Jungkook scoffs, though his ears are flushed.

“It’s really not—”

Namjoon waves him off, clasping a tight hand onto his back that tells him it’s okay, and whatever that was going on would get better. And Jungkook feels marginally better and allows himself to let out a sigh of release.

“So are the two of you gonna kiss or what?” Jimin asks in the midst of the silence.

Namjoon glares at the boy, “Don’t make me give you an extra ten laps.”

He backs down immediately, raising his hands up in defence. And at that moment, you return, all smiles and with a pant as you raise the first aid kit up.

“Your arm?” You smile sweetly, and Jungkook can only offer a weak on in return.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Depends. Will I have to run from the government if I answer you honestly?” Yena ponders out loud.

You roll your eyes but shake your head anyway. The two of you were meant to be cooking dinner but you’ve surrendered yourself to Netflix and Yena’s witty live commentary on horrible films you were scrolling through an hour earlier. Though, your head wasn’t quite in it, to begin with; your thoughts drifting to other aspects, ones that you thought too hard for and didn’t necessarily know the answer to.

It was frustrating, the way that you wanted to have a solution for everything but overthought every single case that happens to pass by your mind.

“No one’s hunting anyone down, your anarchist,” You say, “This is a little … personal.”

You didn’t have any girl friends prior to Yena, and that was your first mistake. You weren’t the person that actively avoided having girl friends because you thought they were dramatic or overly emotional but purely because you never knew how to befriend women. It was weird—being a woman yet being muddled with your own sense of femininity that suppressed your ability to form meaningful friendships with your women peers.

Throughout most of your childhood and teenaged life, you only had Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. While they were more than enough to keep your memories cheerful and filled with laughter, there were more personal things that you couldn’t quite approach them with. They had each other to confide in their ‘manly’ discussions, small talk that you’d often flush at—but you couldn’t ask them the same things you wanted to.

You knew, that on a fundamental level that your personal things were just … things. It wasn’t that deep, nor did it require a PhD in Gender Studies to fully understand the nuance of periods or apparent ‘girl’ problems; you just needed to listen. But you were timid, and you got embarrassed super easily—so that never boded well whenever you’d want to approach them with a question of your own.

But now, you had Yena—debatably the most open and understanding person you’ve met in your life; and you owed it to yourself, and her—to be honest, to live yourself vicariously in your girl best friends eyes—and ask:

“How do you have sex?”

Granted, there was definitely a smoother way of peeling off the bandaid, but you supposed if you were going to be discussing this one way or another, you’d go big or go home.

“I’m sorry,” She coughs, “What?”

You blink.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you were a virgin first …” You mumble.

Yena stares at you with a stupefied expression as she gapes at you.

“Hey, repeat after me: candy, tree and cat.” She grabs you by your shoulders.

“I’m not cerebrally compromised, Yena,” you say dryly.

“Repeat,” She glares.

You huff, shoving her hand off your shoulder.

“Candy, tree and cat. There, happy?” You huff.

She eyes you weirdly as you sigh.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes!” You exasperate, “So like … how? Do you just? Penetrate?”

Yena blinks one more time, her eyes trailing to the ceiling as she asks for a higher being to give her strength before she returns her gaze onto your figure.

“Babe, that is literally the unsexiest way to approach sex.”

“Penetration?” You furrow your brows.

She scrunches her brows, “No.” She gestures to you, “That.”

You scowl.

“I don’t know how to approach sex! That’s why I’m asking you. I literally don’t know who else to approach. If I went to Jimin or Taehyung I’m pretty sure they’d just stare at me and cry. Namjoon is out of the picture because he’d likely approach sex textbook style and I don’t need that level of detail right now. I definitely can’t ask Jungkook because he’s the guy I wanna have sex with. So yeah. I’m here because you’re a woman and the only person I can have a full conversation with without losing my will to live.”

Yena gawks at you, jaw slack as you finish your ramble; ears flushed.

“… you …” She begins, wracking her brain for the words that seem to fail her, “… okay. You know what, the fact that you’re here and putting your big girl pants on and asking me this is a feat in itself so I’m going to just ignore the fact that you said you wanted to have sex with Jungkook.”

You flush, “I was word vomiting—”

“Ah,” She holds her hands up, levelling you with a knowing glare, “If you want honest, you be honest too.”

You slump in your seat, sighing as you nod your head defeatedly.

“Firstly, I’m not a virgin. I could never be a virgin.” Yena declares, “Granted, I’ve slept with three people and two of them were women. But the idiot I lost my virginity to was, unfortunately, of XY chromosomes so … I guess I can answer your questions.”

“I mean … I know how sex works but … approaching it …” You mutter.

“And sex isn’t this groundbreaking act that requires Einstein’s IQ to partake in. It’s both intimate and not, and that’s definitely a personal preference. You can know the semantics of how people have sex, for hets in this case, which is just the classic ol’ penetration method where the penis enters the—”

“Your point?” You exasperate.

“—okay, I got a little carried away. But really, sex isn’t … difficult. It’s scary, I’ll give you that. But you don’t go into your first time thinking you’ll be great at it. Hell, you won’t even like sex that much your first few times unless your partner is a sex demon or something.”

“I mean when Jungkook …” You shudder, “When he … I … you know, did things … it felt …” You fiddle with your fingers. Your ears were undoubtedly on fire, and you were so embarrassed saying these things out loud because it was just so awkward!

“Good? You know I’m not going to judge you for it,” she says pointedly, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

You flush, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. You knew that Yena would never judge you for something as trivial and as unimportant as your sexual endeavours, but this was still a road you’ve yet to properly navigate yourself.

“I … came,” you wince at your breathy voice, “It felt good. And … he’s experienced, you know? I just don’t want to …”

Yena looks at you inquisitively.

“You don’t want to …?”

You sigh deeply, considering your next words with a soft murmur, “I don’t want to not live up to his expectations, you know?”

She frowns at you, “Jungkook’s made some mistakes but you said it yourself. He’s in love with you,” she says softly, “There’s no pressure to have sex with him just because it’s out in the open now, you know?”

You nibble on your lips.

“It’s … more than just that,” you tell her, “I told him I needed time, and really, I do. But it isn’t because I’m confused. I mean, kind of—but really it’s because I don’t want to walk into something and disappoint him … I’m just … scared.”

Yena holds your hand in hers while offering you a gentle smile.

“It’s valid that you’re scared. But there really isn’t anything that can come out of being scared right now. The two of you worked through an obstacle, and here you are creating another one that doesn’t quite exist yet. Trust me, when the time feels right, it does. And you’ll feel ready. Will you still be scared? Maybe. But it’ll feel like it’s meant to fit within your timeline.”

You nibble on your lips, “Is it bad that I’m overthinking this?” You wince.

Yena shrugs her shoulders, “Like everything else in your life?” She teases.

You whine, shoving at her shoulder playfully where all Yena does is snicker in response. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting out of the conversation, even if it was vaguely about the ins and outs of sexual exploration. And she was right, you’ll always be afraid of something, whether it’ll benefit you or harm you because that’s what change does. It shifts your comfort zone into a space that may be unfamiliar but necessary.

You lean into Yena’s shoulder, and a wave of overwhelming emotion washes upon you when you look at her. You really didn’t know how you survived a time without Yena in your life. And as if she’s noticed your glassy gaze, she raises an eyebrow at you.

“What are you looking at?”

You grin at her, all teeth and gums on display as you hug onto her arm like a koala.

“I’m just really happy you’re in my life.” You sigh wistfully.

She pauses for one whole second before she snorts.

“Wow, talk about sex once and suddenly you’re in love with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, “Tell Jeon and Kim that you’re mine now.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“They’re not even competing in the same league as you are,” you assure her.

She smiles.

“So … does that mean I don’t need to get you a birthday gift?”

That earns a thwack on her shoulder.

558 notes · View notes

angry-geese · 4 years ago

Note

Hi there <3 I've read some of your works and i'm in love with your writing. May I please request a fluff gojo x fem!reader? Like they finished their work in the evening and spend the rest of the night together at home💕 It could be a oneshot or a hc, whichever you feel to write. Thank you so much ^^ I'm sorry just in case my request is somehow not really clear☺️

Of course! here you go <3

Mochi

Gojo Satoru x reader

Warnings: none! entirely fluff! this will quite literally rot your teeth. afab reader

a/n: this ended up being a little longer than I intended lol whoops

Word Count: 2.5k

Satoru Gojo is a busy man.

The strongest can't really take a break. He’s on call 24/7. People are pulling him in all directions simultaneously. With everything that's been going on, between the mess with Sukuna, and everything happening at the school, he’s been short on time.

He needs a break.

He's more tired than he lets on. He’s good at hiding it. Especially around his students. It's hard to pull him away from his work. He's insistent that he’s fine. When you’re around someone for so long, you learn to pick up when they aren't. He can pretend to be fine all he wants. You know otherwise.

Sometimes what the strongest needs is someone to boss him around.

He’s capable of taking care of himself. He’s proven that already. But worrying is in your nature. You care about him, of course you’re going to worry.

You were a first year when you met him, having just transfered schools after an incident involving a curse. In a matter of weeks your life had seemingly been flipped on its head. The switch took some time to get used to. Switching schools your first year, let alone switching to this one in particular, was never going to be easy. Getting used to the way Jujutsu society worked took a while. He was a year above you, and you remember absolutely hating him. Gojo was insufferable- or you found him to be such. But he was friends with Nanami, who was a friend of yours, so you reluctantly hung out with him. Nanami, being in the same year as you, was the first to help you out, extending a hand and helping you get used to the way things worked.

Spending time with him didn't do much to change your views. The two of you couldn't have been more different. You still are. But something about opposites attracts.

The first time you gave him the benefit of the doubt was the first time he saved your life.

It may be a bit of an over exaggeration. You’re certain you would have survived without his help, but that could also be an attempt to preserve your pride. You went after a curse, not expecting it to be as strong as it was. As far as you knew, it shouldn't have been stronger than a grade three. Being a grade two at the time, this should have been well in your ability. There ended up being more than one curse, and they were stronger than anyone had realized. You were in over your head.

It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. It's not like you could pick and choose which curses you fought. As a student, that was decided for you.

You had resigned to your fate, separated from the others, injured. Nothing fatal. It left a cool scar, though. But you were well out of your league, put on an assignment far harder than you could deal with. You hate to admit defeat, but you had no other option.

Out of what seemed like thin air came Gojo, taking out both curses like it was nothing. Despite not liking him all that much, it was hard to not be impressed. He was strong. Stronger than you could ever hope to be.

You made it home in one piece.

It was three days before you’d finally confront him.

Getting him alone was hard enough. Being an underclassman, you didn't interact with him a whole lot. You didn't have any classes together. The few times you ran into him were when you hung out with Nanami, who was gone at the time.

When the opportunity presented itself, you took it, cornering him behind the school.

Even back then it was impossible to sneak up on him. He could sense you coming.

“Jesus-” he said, referring to you by your last name, “you look like you want to kill me.”

“You helped me out.” You said. “Why?”

He only shrugged. Not wanting to take that for an answer, you followed him. You were insistent you paid him back. You’d never let a debt like that go unpaid. The first debts are always the hardest to pay back. And when a first debt involves saving your life, well, you’ve got a lifetime to pay back. You only left once Gojo showed up. He needed to talk to Gojo about something, and although you were curious, you didn't feel like sticking around.

Gojo spent the next couple days scheming. You were determined enough you would do just about anything. He could have easily abused his power. It would have been even easier to force you to drop it, but something told him you weren't about to take no for an answer.

You wouldn't.

3pm in the bathrooms. It was hardly a week later. Your last class had ended for the day. You had snuck cigarettes in, blowing the smoke out of the crack in the window. You don't smoke anymore, but you went through nearly a pack a day in high school. There wasn't a specific brand you liked—you didn't necessarily like smoking, but you did it when you were stressed—you just used whatever you got ahold of.

You didn't hear the door open. Gojo wasn't the sneaky type, but he could be when he wanted. You weren't too hard to sneak up on.

If you didn't have contraband that likely would have gotten you expelled, you would have screamed when you saw him. He scared you, not to mention he snuck into the girl’s bathrooms. The two of you would be in equally deep shit if you reported the other. So at that moment you came to a silent agreement.

“You still want to pay me back?” He asked. “Cause I have an idea.”

You perked up at his words.

“Get me mochi from that shop just down the road. You know the one that just opened up?” He asked. “Bring me some and I’ll call us even.”

“That's it?” You asked. It was almost anticlimactic. But despite everything, he was insistent.

Gojo hasn't changed a whole lot since then.

He still has his sweet tooth. He still makes you get him mochi from that shop. It feels like you’re the ones keeping it in business nowadays.

You’re not quite sure who made the first move.

Soon you began spending more time together away from Nanami and Geto. You got along better than anyone—mostly you—ever expected. You weren't the most outwardly affectionate. While you were far from shy, pda wasn't really your thing. Gojo is the opposite. Even now, years after you began dating, he’s still clingy. You’ve gotten used to it. Gojo is possessive, he wants everyone to know you’re his. Not that they don't know already. He can't shut up about you.

Getting him alone has always been hard. Not much has changed in the past few years. He’s only gotten busier. Try to drag him away from work all you want, you rarely succeed.

Tonight he's come willingly. He finished his work early, and all you had left was stuff you could finish in the morning.

Nights at home like this—together—are rare. It feels like you hardly see him anymore. You often fall asleep alone, only to wake up to the other side of the bed being cold. He’s been so occupied with this business with Yuji, that he’s hardly had time for anything else. You sneak away during your breaks, like you’re teenagers again, stealing kisses between classes. You almost don't know what to do.

It almost feels like you should do something to celebrate.

The lights are off when you get home. Your apartment looks empty. Megumi must still be out with his friends.

“What should we do for dinner?” Gojo asks.

“Takeout?” You say. "I don't feel like cooking."

Gojo’s a decent cook, but he doesn't feel like doing so either. He’d get takeout every night if you’d let him. But that's not good for him (or Megumi) so you force him to do otherwise. Because you’re normally home, and you like baking, you’re usually the one to make dinner. There's not much in the fridge. You'll have to get groceries eventually. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. It shouldn't take long.

“How does Korean barbeque sound?" He asks. "From that place down the street?”

"Sounds good,"

You find a menu buried in one of your kitchen drawers, stashed with other takeout menus. You pick out something—two meals, plus some sweet buns for dessert—he calls the restaurant. You pay the extra cash to have it delivered. Neither of you feel like going and picking it up. It's more convenient than the alternative.

The tv drones on in the background while you wait. There’s not much on tv at this hour. News, some late night soaps. While you do like your occasional soap opera, none that you normally watch are on. Gojo changes it to the news. The weather. It looks like it'll rain tomorrow morning, but the rest of the day is supposed to be warm.

"We should go to the park tomorrow," you say, "having a picnic sounds nice."

Gojo hums in approval. As long as you make those tea cakes—the ones with honey drizzled on top—he'll agree to tag along. Maybe you'll go check out the bookstore too. It's been a while since you've last gone.

You strip out of your uniform, pulling on some more comfortable clothes; a pair of shorts and one of Gojo's shirts. It smells like him. You can't help but bury your nose in the collar.

When there’s a knock at the door, Gojo is the one to answer. He returns with your food. You gather napkins and utensils. Gojo never saw the point in anything other than stainless steel chopsticks. Or wooden ones—those given to you with takeout—if he wasn't feeling up to doing dishes. You, on the other hand, bought all sorts of colorful ones and stands that may or may not have been lifted from various restaurants. That's one habit from your teenage years you never lost. You'd pocket almost anything that wasn't nailed down. Your apartment has a rather impressive assortment of salt and pepper shakers. Not to mention the box of hotel soaps you never use, but took because you "might" need it. He enables you, taking some whenever he stays out of town, bringing them home for you. Gojo can hardly say no to you.

Gojo settles next to you on the couch, his shoulder pressed to yours. He can't keep his hands off of you. He’s possessive by nature. Everyone has to know you’re his. He always has to be touching you. Not necessarily with his hands, but he presses his thigh against yours while sitting next to you, or his body pressed against yours from behind in public.

The two of you eat in relative silence. Gojo’s attention turns to the tv, but that doesn't stop him from practically laying on top of you. Occasionally he’ll sneak bites of your food, and you of his.

When you’re done, you clear away the empty containers, sitting any leftovers in the fridge. Gojo sprawls out on the couch. He easily takes up any bit of space. The couch can hardly fit all 6-foot-something of Gojo. It hardly fits you. You've been meaning to look for another one, but haven't found the time to.

He opens his arms, and instinctively you go into them. You move so you can rest partially against the arm of the couch, Gojo's head leaning against your shoulder. His arms loop around your waist, his fingers lacing over your stomach.

It doesn't take him long to begin to drift off. He falls asleep in the crook of your neck. The low sound of the tv, combined with the warmth of his body makes you want to drift off to sleep. Sleeping on the couch like this isn't very good for your (or his) back, but you don't want to move.

The next time your eyes open, some late night game show plays, disturbing your sleep with loud music. The clock on the wall reads some time past two. It's hard to read the minute hand. You gently shake Gojo awake. One of his eyes cracks open and he lets out a soft “hm?”

“Come to bed,” you say, your arms wrapping around his neck, “it's late.”

His eyes close, and for a moment you think he’s drifted back off to sleep, when his grip around you tightens, and he’s rolling over on top of you.

“I think I’ll stay here with you, mochi,” he says, planting a wet kiss to your neck. The feeling of his lips on your neck makes you shiver.

And though he doesn't move, there's a look in his eyes that tells you he has something planned. You only notice too late that his grip never loosens, and the mischievous glint to his eyes. You couldn't wiggle out of it if you wanted to. You're effectively trapped.

He litters your neck with kisses, sending you into a giggling fit, and he doesn't stop until you’re begging him to. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from laughing. Your nails dig into your palms so hard they leave little crescent-shaped indents.

When you finally settle down, he’s pulling you into his arms bridal style, heading for your shared room. The bed is still unmade from this morning. Neither of you bothered to put it away. You were busy, and the thought slipped your mind.

Gojo shoves the covers aside, pulling you to lay on his chest. His fingers gently trace up the curve of your spine as he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest. Goosebumps prickle your exposed skin. He’s careful with how he touches you, loving, and soft. It's like he’s trying to memorize every inch of your body. His heartbeat is audible. Steady, and quet, acting as a lullaby. Your eyes shut, but you’re still awake. The intimacy of the moment doesn't go over your head.

He thinks he could die happy at this moment. Any moment, with you, really. Even during fights, or nights where he doesn't come home until long after you’ve fallen asleep, and you’re left irritated with his lack of time. As long as you’re by his side, he’s content.

He doesn't give much to the thought of settling down. His work will never let him. Neither does he think much about having any biological children. You practically have two already. Settling down isn't really an option for the strongest. This is the closest he’ll get to it.

For now, he just thinks about the park, and the blue sundress you always wear when you go.

Not many people can say they’ve changed who Satoru Gojo is as a person—let alone for the better—but you’ve changed him twice. Once in your meeting behind the school, and once again tonight. He’s found the one.

The first debt is always the hardest to pay back. But you've paid it in full.

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fluff

219 notes · View notes