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#high-beam assist
techdriveplay · 4 months
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2024 Subaru BRZ tS - TDP Review
The 2024 Subaru BRZ tS represents a performance-focused evolution of the beloved compact coupe, designed to offer enthusiasts a more refined driving experience straight from the factory. Building on the base model’s strengths, the tS—short for “tuned by STI”—introduces a range of enhancements aimed at improving handling and braking without altering the power output. Key among these upgrades are…
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martinroyhall · 1 year
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MG4 vs Ford Focus: Is it time to change?
All-new conventional petrol and diesel cars and vans are set to be banned from sale in 2030. New hybrids will be able to continue until 2035, on the condition that they can cover a ‘significant distance’ in zero-emission mode, a term which the Government has yet to helpfully define. And then there’s new plug-in hybrids which you will be able to buy for another five years, before they themselves…
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on-the-clear-blue · 4 days
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Little idea wiggling about in my brain...
So like *holds Danny and Billy up by the scruff of their shirts* these two bastards won't leave my brain, and for punishment I will make them kiss...
Just, the Rock of eternity technically is Shazam's (the wizards) haunt? He has been dead for a long time, living only though his champion, what if Ghost King Danny gets slapped with a post it note that reads like
"Daniel, you're required to assist the Champion of Magic as the High King of the Realms, even Pariah helped the previous Champion Black Adam."
And Danny is like, "Sure, why not, Magic is real and so are ghosts."
And like....
Sparky Danny meeting Literal Sun Beam Billy, they are both 14, it's puppy love at its finest. Danny doesn't know what to do with gay panic and Billy is just straight up "This man is my soul mate, he shall be mine." (Call iy Zeus bestowing more than just lightning)
The leauge is very concerned why Captain Marvel seems to have a seeming underage partner.
Superman squinting very hard and trying to figure this out: So...just how old is Phantom?
Billy, unaware how bad this looks: Oh I don't know honestly, it's kinda hard to tell with beings from the Realms! Though he died when he was 14!
Superman, gripping the table (which cracks a little) :And how exactly long has he been 14?
Billy, taking out his phone and flipping out pictures: Like I said, I don't really know how old he is, but there is Egyptain hieroglyphics of him! Look!
Superman, blinking at the very real looking pictures: Ahh. Fun cool cool cool...a-and how are you again Cap?
Billy mindlessly swiping the photos, excited to show off his boyfriend:Never said it, but he is definitely older than I am.
(Danny is older by a month, Billy calls him an old man for it.)
Billy gets to live full time in Danny's haunt in the Zone, Danny built him like the best house, Tucker and Sam get to meet Billy and they just are flabbergasted that Danny "I can't get a girl to date me or else she ends up wanting to kill me" Fenton has a boyfriend that has been going steady for a few months.
My brain sees like, Maddie and Jack are 100% backing Danny, they are fully supportive of their bi/gay/pan son, but in no way would they support him if he was a ghost, like they are organizing Amitys first ever Pride parade, but there is a shoot ghosts on sight order.
And just the reveal is like...
Danny gets finally tells them he is a ghost: if you start shooting me, your shooting the only Gay person you know, not very ally of you mom and Dad.
Maddie mouth open in horror: Oh no...Jack are...are we homophobic?
Jack sharing her look of fear: Great Scott...Dann-o a-are you sure...its...it's a life style right? Y-you chose this?
Danny, trying very, very hard not to laugh: It's not a life style dad! I didn't choose to Die!
Anyway, thank you for coming to my brain word vomit, I haven't slept in 20 hours.
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gyuzgrl · 4 months
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all I need //csc//
summary- ceo!cheol just really fucking misses you, okay?
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Glass in hand, you glance at the bottom of your laptop, briefly checking the time.
11:34 pm.
Seungcheol's never been this late before, but you're at ease- courtesy of the barrage of messages and calls he sent earlier this evening. At exactly 4pm, the first notification went off-
'hey sweetheart, work's piling up so I gotta stay back late tonight :('
Within a minute, there was another.
'is that okay? or do you need me home early?'
And then your phone rang, with his assistant calling to inform you that he'd be home late. It makes you feel all gooey and fuzzy inside, how thorough he is when it comes to your feelings. It's clear that you're a priority. Nothing comes before.
After you assured him for the hundredth time that you'd be fine, and that he could take his time saving the company or whatever, he went back to work. Sure, you ate together every evening and watched dating shows and stuff, but one night away from that shouldn't be too hard, should it?
For you, this newfound me-time gave you an opportunity to crack open a bottle of red and start working on your novel- the perfect evening in your eyes, but for Seungcheol?
Time away from you is his own inferno- a circle made especially for him.
Obviously, you miss him too... It goes without saying, seeing how your eyes fleet down to the time ever so often, how your thigh trembles as you rock it up and down, how you nearly jump out of your seat when the doorbell rings.
Grabbing your wine goblet, you dance your way to the door- elegant as a tide, and pull it open for your man.
"hey you," you grin, tilting your head to the side as a fond sparkle lights up your eyes.
Before you can say anything more, Seungcheol steps towards you and pulls your body into his, placing his lips on yours.
It's breathtaking.
His lips suck desperately at yours, trying to take you in as much as he can. Like a man lost in the desert, Seungcheol drinks you in- parched.
He's been starved of you all day, far longer than he'd like, and it's been eating away at him, wearing him down until now.
Letting his lips cradle your lower one, he nips at the tender flesh, sighing when he gets a taste of you after having waited all day.
You gasp against his mouth, holding your glass high to the side, letting your free arm rake through the base of Seungcheol's scalp. The way your nails drag against his skin has him growing weak, and he can feel his patience wearing thin.
In desperate need of air, you pull away, gasping, stuttering.
"hi," Seungcheol whispers, hands finding your waist as he admires you. "missed you."
Beaming wide, your lips find his in a brief peck, and you let your gaze meet his- now scanning over your body, pupils blown wide at how beautiful you look.
Donned in a white satin robe barely long enough to cover your thighs, hair puffed wildly around your face, skin bare and glowing- god, you made it look so easy.
"how w-"
No time for words. Seungcheol shuts you up with another kiss, this time pressing his lips to yours harder than before. A few whines of protest bubble up your throat, but are quickly swallowed up rather greedily as he pushes his tongue into your mouth.
Walking you backwards, he grabs the back of your neck, taking large strides forward that you can't seem to keep up with. Your little backward stumbles are a tad bit too slow for his liking, and in one steady motion, Seungcheol hoists you up, holding your weight on one arm as the other threads through your hair.
A surprised "mmph-!" leaves your lips, and you try your best to keep your wine from spilling all over. One hand held precariously at a 90 degree angle, jutting out over his shoulder, you try to keep your balance, but he makes it so damn hard.
Soon enough, the red liquid begins to slosh around, whirling higher and higher against the walls of your glass, until a tiny splatter escapes it's confines and lands on your exposed wrist.
"baby-" you pant between kisses, wriggling away from his lip-lock, "it'll stain if i don't-"
Seungcheol flicks his gaze from your face to the bead of liquid rolling down your wrist, and licks his lips.
He sets you down on the dinner table- where you were working, originally- and stands between your legs, taking hold of your hand.
"we don't want that, do we?" he muses, taking your glass and setting it aside.
You shake your head, gulping as he lowers his lips to your wrist, licking a delicate stripe up your inner arm- following the path the liquid set. Transfixed, your breaths grow shallow, eyes focused on the deft movements of his tongue.
How the wet muscle peeks out from between his lips, just barely visible, has your head spinning. You can't help but want to feel him somewhere...lower. There's an all too familiar heat pooling between your legs, and you need him to come fix it.
Desire builds within you, swelling to an unbearable crescendo until you can't take it any longer. With a firm tug, you grab his tie, diverting his lips back to yours.
As your lips meet once again, your senses flood with the sharp notes of wine lingering on his tongue. It's sweet and rich, and on his lips?
Oh, it tastes divine.
With one hand on his tie, you slide the other back to Seungcheol's hair, fisting the loose strands just above his neck. The dual stimulation- on his scalp and neck- is just a little too much for him, and he sinks to his knees, feeling each joint buckle under your touch.
"easy-" he warns, voice husky as his throat quivers. "can I ea-"
"yes,"
You interrupt with a breathy plea, and Seungcheol's hands pry your legs apart slowly.
"please tell me you're we- oh my fucking god-"
To his dismay, you're completely bare under your robe. No panties, nothing.
"thank you thank you thank you-" he mutters, and it's unclear whether he's saying it to you or to some higher being. For all you know, to him, you're one and the same. Especially now, with how effortlessly you control him, how you know him, Seungcheol can't help but pedestalize you.
He parts your legs wide, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of your glistening cunt, and he spares you one last glance before closing in. Your jaw falls slack as his tongue makes contact with your folds, licking through them, right up to your clit.
Effortlessly, Seungcheol finds where you're most sensitive, and cradles your nerves with his lips while he prods you with his tongue. He alternates between suctioning and nudging, coaxing your clit out of hiding, and you gasp when his tongue makes direct contact.
"s-shit," you pant, your grip tightening on his hair. The additional pull makes him groan, and you feel the deep rumble of his voice running through your nerves.
Spurred on by the noises you make, Seungcheol quickens his pace, his sights set on your high. He'll do anything to taste you, anything.
As he laps at your cunt- devouring you like a man starved- your legs begin to shake, thighs quivering with the tensing of your muscles. With each flick of his tongue, you feel your stomach tighten further and further until you can't hold back any longer.
The tension in your belly is unbearable, and your lips give way to desperate, helpless moans, loud enough for your neighbors to hear. You don't care, though. You'll deal with them tomorrow.
Right now, all that matters is the two of you, alone in your own universe.
"fuck- m'gonna cum oh my go-" you moan, dragging out the last syllable into a high-pitched whine as your orgasm crashes into you.
Seungcheol grins against your cunt, flicking his tongue up and down, working your through your high. When your thighs begin to close in around him, he holds you open, backing away for a second to let you recover.
"you taste," he pants, "so fucking good"
And with that, his lips find your cunt once again, this time prodding your entrance as he collects your arousal, savoring your taste.
Your legs try to force themselves shut- overstimulation setting in- but they're no match for his brute strength.
After he's certain there's not a drop left to be spared, Seungcheol places a gentle kiss to your clit and rises to his feet.
"did I say I missed you today? 'cause I really fuckin' missed you today"
You smile through shallow breaths, trying to settle your lungs after whatever that was.
"you did?"
"every second of the day. you're all I need."
A gentle blush makes its way up your cheeks, lighting up your skin, and Seungcheol smirks.
"you're on my mind a lot more often than you think, sweetheart" he leans closer, caging you in between his arms.
"when you're at work?"
"especially, when I'm at work."
Leaving words for a later date, Seungcheol scoops you up in his arms, one hand hooked under your knees and the other supporting your back.
"baby!" you squeal, legs fluttering as he walks over to the bedroom.
He sets you down on your duvet, letting the crisp white sheets engulf your body, and crawls over you. Settling on his knees, he brings a hand up to his collar, undoing the top buttons of his shirt, and your eyes grow wide.
No matter how many times you've seen him, the sheer muscle there is to this man will never fail to astonish you. Peeking through his split neckline, the firm outline of his pectorals greet your hungry eyes. It's a slight glimpse- nothing more- but it has an unmistakable desire surging through you.
"want me to take it off?" he teases, fingers halting at the next button.
You nod eagerly and he chuckles, quickly pulling apart his shirt to give you what you want. Before long, the white fabric is tossed aside to some corner of the room, and Seungcheol's body comes into view.
"oh my,"
Every ridge, every contour of his torso is nothing short of perfection. He's spent years crafting his body, and it shows. From his heavy chest to the shocking definition of his abs- he's stunning.
As he moves closer, inching forward with his arms set on either side of your head, you see the way his biceps tense, working to support his weight. They're big too. Big and strong and sturdy- you feel safest in his arms.
Nothing in the world can hurt you here.
"you're so beautiful," he whispers against your lips, placing a gentle kiss there before leaning back to undress you.
Deft fingers work to untie the knot of your robe, pulling it loose in a matter of seconds. Seungcheol flicks his gaze up to yours, asking for permission as he pulls the silk apart, unwrapping you like a present- although he's being careful, you can tell, deep down he's trying not to rip that robe apart.
Prying the fabric off of you, Seungcheol's throat goes dry.
Your body has him in awe. It isn't possible to be this beautiful, he thinks. It really isn't. Your skin glows under the dim lights, hair strewn around your face, eyes glittering so bright they'd put the sun to shame. It's a messy, real kind of beautiful. The kind of beautiful you see when you know you're in love.
And Seungcheol knows now that he is.
"I-" he hesitates, taking in a shaky breath.
You scan his face for any signs of discomfort, brows scrunched as you're met with an overwhelming sense of affection. Affection that you're certain you return.
For a moment it's silent, just you and him staring into each other's eyes, thinking the same thing. The wide expansion of his pupils seems different today, as though lust and desire isn't the cause of their dilation.
It's love. Adoration.
"I-" he starts again, but the words stick like velcro to the back of his throat, and you run a hand along his chest soothingly.
"me too"
Seungcheol gulps, shivering under your touch, and leans in, pressing a longing kiss to your parched lips.
It starts of slow and gentle, mapping out the motions of your mouth, and then it shifts. He pushes harder, the kiss growing intense, as if he's trying to show you his feelings. Desperately, feverishly, you pant into each other's mouths, locking lips in a way you haven't before.
"I love you-" he breathes, speaking the words against your puffy lips. "i love you, y/n"
Tears prick your eyes, the intensity of the moment weighing down on you, and you can't help the whimper that slips past your lips.
"Seungcheol-"
"I know, sweetheart"
"Seung-"
He cuts you off, kissing you deep, before making his way down your body, until he's at your feet. In a flash, his pants are off, leaving him in his boxers, and he takes hold of your ankle.
"what are y-"
"shh, just- just let me take care of you, okay?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle, "lemme make you feel good"
You gasp when his lips make contact with your skin. Somehow, this feels more intimate than anything you've done before.
Seungcheol peppers soft kisses up your leg, earning pleased jolts and squirms in return. With each sound you make, each quiver of you body, the corners of his lips twist up into a satisfied, knowing smirk.
Reaching your thighs, he presses a teasing kiss to your throbbing clit, pushing a little harder to make you jolt the way he likes.
"oh-"
Your lips part, giving way to a loud gasp as your hips jerk upwards, and Seungcheol's smirk widens.
"still sensitive, sweetheart?" he asks, painting on a worried, innocent pout.
You know damn well he did that on purpose. There's no hiding that.
Narrowing your eyes at him, you huff, half-pleased that he knows your body better than you do.
Seungcheol marches forward, determined general that he is, and kisses his way past your legs and over your torso, moving slowly as he goes along.
Desperate, you feel your clit throb uncontrollably despite just having cum mere minutes ago, and you squirm under him, eyes bearing into his, pleading silently.
"stay still," he mutters, preoccupied with your skin. "wanna take my time with you"
Your heart flutters at his words. A gentle smile creeps up your face- one you can't seem to contain- and he pouts, pausing at your collarbone.
"what?"
"nothing," you smile.
Seungcheol grins back, resuming his work on your chest, working his way up. The boyish smile turns into an evil smirk when he reaches the crook of your neck, right where you're most sensitive.
Most responsive.
He nips at the tender skin, placing his lips firm against your neck as you shiver under him. A loud, pleased sigh leaves your parted lips, and you tilt your head to the side, offering him further access to you.
It's adorable- to Seungcheol, at least- how easily you give in to him. The way you get so desperate for his touch, so eager for more, has him feeling like he's on top of the world.
"cute." he mumbles, the low tinge of his voice resonating right below your ear. It sends a trail of goosebumps scattering over your shoulder, prickling your delicate skin.
Seungcheol finds his way back to your lips, placing a gentle, loving kiss there, and draws back, stepping off the mattress momentarily to push off his boxers.
You marvel at his naked figure, staring shamelessly at his skin like you've never seen a cock before. Although, to be fair, you've never seen one like his.
Long and thick and veiny- god, he's like a dream come true. Earlier on in the relationship, when you'd first slept together, you couldn't even get all of it in without bursting into tears. The thought excites you now- being split open by him until you're sobbing on his dick.
He shakes his head, chuckling at your wide-eyed adoration as he settles back onto the duvet, shuffling up until his back hits the headboard.
Wordlessly, he beckons you over with a quirk of his fingers, and you scramble onto his lap instantly.
"you know what to do, don't you, baby?" His voice is low and rough, sending shivers running along your spine. You nod, aligning yourself over his cock, sucking in a shaky breath when the head nudges at your entrance.
"fuck-" he drawls as you sink down on him, squeezing so tight it almost hurts. No matter how many times he's drilled into you before, the initial stretch is always deliciously painful.
Your jaw falls slack, shoulders tensing as you feel him split you open. Shaky, clenched fists loop over his neck, forcing his head forward, right in front you.
As you sink further, you breathe out trembling exhales, moaning softly into his mouth, while he does the same. With each notch you move lower, Seungcheol's hips strain harder and harder to keep still.
He knows he can hurt you. He knows you need time to adjust to his size.
"y/n," he breathes, gritting his teeth as he forces himself to hold still, "baby I can't- oh fuck-" Seungcheol breaks out into a loud groan when you sink down completely, thighs landing flush against his.
Your eyes shoot open, brows set in a deep scrunch, and you meet his stare- heavy and intense. It's as if he's pushed the air out of your lungs, and your voice has gone somewhere with it.
"breathe," he soothes, moving his hands to hold your thighs, "you gotta breathe, baby"
You suck in a trembling breath, and he holds you up, pulling you off his cock just a little.
"there we go, that's it sweetheart,"
When your breathing returns to normal, Seungcheol pushes into you, lifting his hips while he lowers you back onto his girth. A helpless cry leaves your lips and you clutch onto his shoulders, tears pooling in your eyes.
He sets his pace, starting off slow, pushing into you gently to get you used to his size, before things take a rougher, more forceful turn. Once he sees that you're well accommodated, Seungcheol thrusts up into you, hitting all the right spots in an instant. You moan, digging your nails into his skin, and he hisses, shoving himself harder into you.
"Seungcheol oh my g-"
Your walls spasm around him as he thrusts into you, moving at a brutal pace, shoving his heavy cock into you with force enough to break the bed frame. His biceps contract as he lifts you, holding you up while he slams his hips against yours.
It's honestly shocking how strong he is.
With each thrust, you feel your body tense up, and that familiar, sought-after knot begins to form deep within your tummy. You clench down around him, and he chokes out a guttural- "oh fuck"- through gritted teeth.
Taking on the challenge, Seungcheol tugs you down onto his length, all while his hips increase their pace, and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
You see stars.
"Seungcheol- please- oh my fucking god," you cry out, voice shaking pathetically with the impact of his thrusts.
He uses you like a toy, lifting you on and off his dick like you weigh nothing to him, controlling your body as you sit helpless against his strength.
The veins of his cock drag against your walls, carving their shape into you ruthlessly, and you can't help but take it.
Take everything he gives you.
"that's it, sweetheart-" he grits, "so fucking good for me"
His praise only adds to your arousal, and you feel yourself on the verge of pleasure, almost about to let it all go. Through heavy, merciless thrusts, a hand leaves your thigh to flick at your clit, and you let out a shrill, surprised cry, as your body falls victim to an electrifying orgasm.
You let out a sob, calling his name while tears spill over your cheeks. Seungcheol silences you with a kiss, licking into your mouth, bullying his way inside. His hips continue their movements, thrusting up into your poor, abused cunt to chase his own high, and soon after, he follows suit.
Blowing his load deep inside your hole, Seungcheol moans against your lips, and you gasp, feeling fuller than before.
"take me so well," he pants, "you're fuckin' perfect for me"
Drained, you nod weakly, the burn of your thighs finally catching up to you. He smiles sheepishly, lifting you off himself and placing you back on your duvet.
A thick, creamy mixture spills out of you, and Seungcheol gulps as he watches. The view before him is more than tempting, and he feels the blood rush back to his cock, but he knows better.
You're already spent.
"you did so good, baby," he smiles, dismissing his thoughts, kissing your forehead, "I'll run us a bath, hm?"
It's cute, honestly, how caring he is. Even cuter that he thinks he can just get away with it.
You shoot him a sly, coy smile-
"I thought you missed me"
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charliemwrites · 8 months
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Mafia!au part 5!
A bit of fluff, a bit of drama, a bit of Soap!
Content: Attempted Gaslighting, Violence
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“Gooood morning, sir!” you sing as you sweep into Mr. Price’s office. “And happy birthday!”
His head shoots up from whatever he was brooding over, brows arched high in genuine shock. Surprise is a good look on him.
“How the bloody hell did you know it’s my birthday?” he demands, sitting back in his chair.
You beam, sauntering right up to his desk. His eyes flick to the round white box balanced on top of your tablet. Nothing big, a little something you baked at home after a couple dissatisfying trials.
“It’s my job to know,” you reply easily.
He blinks– a habit you flatter yourself thinking he might have picked up from you. “What else do you know about me?”
You tilt your head at him, a smug curve to your lips.
“Just the basics. Your full name and birthday,” you demure. Hold up your free hand and start rattling off on your fingers. “Height, allergies, tea preference, pastry preference, blood type, drink of choice…”
You set the box in front of him and resettle your tablet in the crook of your arm. He stares at you for a beat, expression bleached from surprise to outright shock. You spin your stylus around your fingers.
“Which is why I made you a marble cake with whiskey instead of rum.”
His eyes lock onto the unassuming white box. It’s not a big cake by any means, about six inches in diameter and only one layer. Just a small something for Price to have for himself. God knows the rest of the boys (and Farah) get enough treats from you as it is.
“You made this?” he asks, leaning a bit forward.
“Yessir,” you declare, “and I’m pretty good at it too. Perks of stress baking.”
He runs a hand down his face, as if his beard got ruffled. “Christ, you need a raise.”
“Yes. Anyway – I’ll get you a plate after I’m done,” you say, swatting at his curious hand. He huffs but sits back to give you his full attention. You smile in reward and begin reciting his schedule for the day.
He listens, only interrupting when he needs clarification on little details. You try not to be too endeared by the way his eyes occasionally flick to the covered cake. When you finish, you twitch your nose at him knowingly.
“I’ll get you a plate before I get started on that expense summary,” you say, turning on your heel.
You hum in surprise when a large, calloused hand catches your wrist. It’s not the hand of a businessman, you think, but a man used to work. A man who does the hard things for himself. Before meeting John Price, you would have scoffed at the thought of a rich man knowing labor. Price though… well, he’s been proving to be a welcome exception since the very start.
“Thank you for this, love,” he says, voice hitting that tone and pitch that makes your insides squirm. He caresses his thumb over the tender skin before releasing you. “Really.”
You can already feel the blush climbing up the back of your neck, over your ears, creeping onto your cheeks. Can’t ever catch a break with him.
“Well, don’t thank me ‘til you’ve tried it,” you try to deflect.
“Weren’t you the one saying you’re decent at baking.”
“Yeah, well… maybe I poisoned you or something – for that time you closed my skirt in the door.”
He sputters a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the indignance on his face. Such a handsome, almost regal man. You love to rile him up.
“I apologized. Profusely.”
And offered to buy you a new skirt entirely. The way you’d shrieked that that was not an appropriate response made Soap choke with laughter as people stared.
“Yeah, well, I hold a grudge,” you reply, shrugging.
It’s true, but not about things like that. Graves and his assistant? Oh, that’s practically a blood feud at this point. A silly little accident where your boss left a crease in your fourth favorite skirt? That’s not even something to forgive him for, but you sure as hell will never forget. Especially when he still seems mildly sheepish about it.
“You wouldn’t be the first,” he grumbles. You’re not sure if he’s talking about grudges or poisoning, but the dramatics finally make you laugh.
“But I could be the last,” you call over your shoulder as you flounce out.
Not for long though, returning with a disposable fork from the breakroom. There’s something amusing to only you about a man in a thousand-pound suit using cheap plastic.
“Come to see me keel over for yourself, then?” he asks.
“Well, I can’t have you getting cake crumbs on the expense reports,” you reason.
He’s already got the lid open. No icing on the cake – you’re shit at decorating, so you chose a recipe without icing. The flavor of the whiskey and sugar should be plenty. To make up for it, you folded a tiny placard and wrote “Happy Birthday, Boss!” in your best loopy cursive.
He takes the fork, fingers brushing yours in the process. You remind yourself not to snatch your hand away like a scandalized Victorian lady. Christ, you really need to get it together.
“Tell me how you like it,” you say, making to leave again.
“Come try it yourself,” he protests.
You pause, give him an amused look. “I didn’t actually poison it, sir. You’ve not done anything that heinous. Yet.”
He snorts, carefully digging out a respectable bite from the edge. “If you see fit to toss a little rat poison in, then I’ll likely having it coming.”
You hum. “Arsenic is more my style. Classic.”
In the corner of the room, Simon makes a little noise you’ve come to recognize as repressed laughter. You shoot him a quick, amused look, before shifting your attention back as Price gestures with the fork.
“Regardless, you should get a little taste of the fruits of your labor,” he offers.
The fruits of your labor, you think with a bit of regret, will be his enjoyment of your baking. You’re not sure when his admiration became your favorite part of the day, but you’re spoiled for positive feedback from your otherwise stern boss.
“You first,” you insist, “it’s your birthday after all.”
He keeps unnerving eye contact as he brings the bite to his mouth, tongue flicking out to catch any spare crumbs. He hums, eyes closing a for a second in enjoyment, before opening and fixating on you again.
“That’s bloody brilliant, love.”
He scoops up another piece, brings it right to your mouth. You hurry to put a hand beneath in case it falls; don’t even think before parting your lips. Sugar and whiskey, chocolate and vanilla, burst across your tongue.
“Oh!” you hum, hiding your mouth while you chew. “That is pretty good.”
It only occurs to you as he takes another bite for himself, a twinkle in his eye, that you just ate after him. Used the same fork like it was nothing, like that’s an acceptable thing to do as his assistant. You’re not squeamish by any means, no. It’s just… it’s gotta be crossing some sort of professional line. You can’t imagine any of your previous bosses ever sharing with you like this.
“Let me tell you, if you did poison it,” he muses, “I wouldn’t mind it being the last thing I ate.”
You roll your eyes, swat lightly at his arm again. “I told you; it’s not poisoned.”
“I know, you just took a bite,” he answers smugly.
You click your tongue at him, playing at exasperated. “I’m going to work now.”
“Ta, love.”
--
“Oi, li’l miss?”
You glance up at Soap curiously.
(Recognize, in the back of your mind, that it’s a nickname that’s not only spread – thanks, Simon – but that you’re responding to as quickly as your own name now. You should probably feel some type of way about that. Probably righteously annoyed or something. You don’t.)
Soap is standing at your desk, shifting from foot to foot. Uneasy. But the expression on his usually friendly face isn’t nervous. It’s… something else. Something you don’t know how to decipher but makes you sit up a bit straighter, alert.
“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask, voice light.
“There’s some bloke down in the lobby, says he’s got a date with you?” he explains, frowning deeper than you’ve ever seen.
It gets deeper – and angrier – when he sees the blood drain from your face. You push your chair away from your desk to hide the tremble that’s trying to infest your hands.
Absolutely not. This is your place of work, dammit. Where you’re calm and collected, the person anyone can turn to for solutions. You’ve worked so hard to craft this sleek vessel of professional grace and you’re not about to have it sullied like this.
“He does not have a date with me,” you state, keeping your voice flat and tight. “Would you come down with me, please?”
“’Course,” he replies instantly.
You stop by Price’s office, knock twice, then poke your head in when he calls for entry.
“I’ve just got to pop out for a mo’,” you explain, “I’ll be right back!”
He nods and you duck out again before he can notice anything amiss. For a rich bastard, he’s too observant of others. (Especially you.)
“What’s he here fer, then?” Soap asks in the elevator.
You let out an annoyed puff of air. “A reality check, I assume.”
He side-eyes you but doesn’t ask any further before the doors open.
Sure enough, standing in the lobby, is the last man you want to see. Your ex, Brandon.
“There you are, bunny. You’ve been keeping me waiting for—”
“One, do not call me that. It’s inappropriate,” you interrupt, crisp and sharp. “Two, I haven’t been keeping you waiting, because there’s nothing to wait for. Three, get out.”
He rolls his eyes, that smarmy curve to his lips never leaving. You don’t think he’s even noticed Soap just behind you yet.
“Look, I know you’re still in a mood about everything,” he says, “but that’s why I’m taking you out. To smooth things over. Clear the air, and all that.”
“You’re not taking me out,” you repeat. “Get out.”
He crosses his arms, tilting his head in that condescending way you’ve always despised. It sets your teeth on edge, makes you burn with anger.
“This isn’t your building,” he goads, “you can’t kick me out.”
“Might as well be hers, mate,” Soap interjects, “she could kick out the goddamn queen.”
Brandon’s focus shifts to him. You feel a curl of vindictive satisfaction when his expression curdles a bit. Soap may not be a particularly tall man, but he can be intimidating. Built thick and strong, doesn’t bother to conceal his physique at all with his sleeves rolled up his forearms. And you’re not oblivious to his looks either. Soap is a handsome man. A walking ego bruise for a man like your ex.
“Fine,” he huffs, “then come outside so we can talk like adults.”
You click your tongue, fold your hands behind your back to conceal the way your fingers clench into fists. “We did talk like adults. You just failed to listen like one.”
And ohhhh, the petty satisfaction that bubbles through you at the way his teeth click in shock, a flush of embarrassed anger curtaining his face.
“Now, I’ll ask one more time and then my coworker is going to toss you out himself.” Soap chooses that moment to crack his knuckles. “Leave this building. You’re not welcome.”
You drop your arms and turn on your heel, ready to get back to work and compartmentalize this until you’ve got a fuck-off sized glass of wine in front of you.
“Hey, we’re not—”
Even if you did see what happened, you don’t think you could have followed. It happens so fast. One second, Soap’s eyes are on you. Burning with questions and fury on your behalf, checking that you’re okay. The next, he’s darted past you. There’s a scuffle, fancy shoes squeaking on polished floors, a thick, wet pop. Then Brandon is shouting in pain.
You jump, twist to see what the commotion is. Soap’s got a white-knuckled grip on Brandon’s extended wrist – though now it’s bent at an awful angle, you realize he must have been reaching for you. Your skin crawls.
“Away ‘n bile yer heid,” Soap growls, shoving Brandon back roughly.
He doesn’t fall on his ass but it’s a near thing. With the eyes of reception, a few employees, and you on him, he spits a curse at Soap and retreats. You stare after for a moment, lips parted in shock.
“All set, miss?” Soap asks, adjusting his sleeves.
“Um, yeah,” you say. Blink and pull yourself together. “I mean, yes. Let’s head back up before the boss misses us.”
He places a hand on the small of your back on the short walk back. It feels grounding rather than proprietary; you’re grateful for it. He lasts until the doors close before turning to you.
“The hell was that about, lass?”
You sigh, smooth your skirt down for lack of anything else to do. “That was my ex. He wants to… reconcile, I suppose. And he’s quite keen on getting his way.”
Soap mutters a few choice words under his breath. Scottish slang, you suspect. You’ll have to get him to teach you sometime.
“Anyway, thank you for your help,” you continue, eyes on the elevator doors. “I can’t believe he showed up here. I’m so embarrassed.”
“You’ve nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hen,” he protests. “He’s the creeper here.”
You sigh. “I know, I just… you don’t think less of me, do you? That I didn’t… take care of him myself.”
Soap’s expression softens. He draws you into a quick one-armed hug. “You did take care of ‘im, far as I’m concerned. I was just there to enforce. No need to mess up yer pretty nails, aye?”
You smile, small but genuine. “Thanks, again.”
“Anytime, li’l miss.”
The elevator chimes as it reaches the top floor. You turn to Soap just before the doors open.
“Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.”
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reidsdimples · 3 months
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Can i request something? But if you can't , its okay. Reid x reader, enemies to lover, undercover as married couple, Get gift from the other, play game, open the box, need to use whatever in the box. one of it's "vibrator underwear" then up to you...
Not So Faux Lovers
18+ ❤️‍🔥MDNI‼️
my take on this request, hope you love it! 🥰🫶🏻
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"Oh honey! You shouldn't have!" You gush at your faux-husband Spencer.
"You have to open it!" Cara, the unsubs wife, beams.
They were deep undercover as a married couple. The team was trying to figure our who in this underground kinky sex group was trying to involve minors. You guys had been at this for weeks, this being the third party you attended.
You were just grateful Spencer got you guys out of the group orgy that took place the night before. You were dedicated to your job but not dedicated enough for groups sex to keep cover.
Besides, you and Spencer had started to get on each other's nerves. Both of you wound tight from stress and short tempered with one another. The two of you had been fighting before the party but played as if you were the happiest married couple.
This party in particular involved the exchange and mandatory use of sex related gifts. You hoped Spencer figured out something that didn't involve one of the party members shoving something inside of you.
He nudges you to open it.
You tear the box open, less than eagerly. It takes you a moment to deduce what exactly the odd looking item was. You tilt your head and pick what appears to be a wireless remote.
"That's for me," Spencer snatches it from you.
You hold up what you realize to be underwear with something in the crotch. It was a pink lace thong with a fucking vibrator in a small pocket in the front. You blush and swallow hard.
You had opted to get him flavored condoms in which you would feign sex on the other side of a closed door as you were forced to do once before. This was...
"Oh hell yeah!" Trent, one of the party members claps Spencer on the back.
"Go put them on," another girl smiles at you. "Let's see if you can control yourself when he uses it against you."
You fight the urge to glare at your 'husband'. He was eating this up, putting you in an awkward position and watching you get all flustered after such an argument earlier.
"Honey, would you assist me please," you hiss and tug Spencer out of his chair.
"What the hell is this?" You whisper shout at him when you both get into the bathroom.
"Thought it might be fun," he smiles mischievously.
"Are you serious?" You smack his arm. "How am I supposed to focus with you and that damned remote... You are such an asshole."
"Like I said, it might be fun," he exits the bathroom with a cocky wink.
You didn't know where this sudden shift in him came from. Perhaps the fact that the two of you have been playing these rolls for five weeks and were pent up after constantly being tossed into sexual scenarios and fighting all the time. He just changed the game.
You hesitantly pull on the thong and adjust the vibrator against your clit where it's meant to sit. This is insane. Yet you find yourself coiled tight with excitement at Spencer controlling your pleasure... that was new.
You pull up your skirt and exit the bathroom with your head held high. If he wants to play, let's play. You toss your original underwear at his chest and sit in his lap. You hear his breathing hitch in shock but he plays it off as natural.
"How do we know she's actually wearing them?" John, the unsub, purrs.
Spencer holds up the small oval shaped pink remote and presses the center button with nimble fingers. You jolt in his lap as the vibrator hums to life against your sensitive core. You grip the back up his neck and squeeze your legs together.
"Okay!" You bite out.
He switches it off with a sinister sort of chuckle.
You feel wetness gather between your folds as you adjust yourself on his lap and turn to the others who were exchanging gifts.
“I bet you’re wet already,” he turns it on the lowest setting and nips at your ear. “I’m sure it’s not because of me though. It’s just your body reacting,” he purrs condescendingly.
You elbow his abdomen and shift in his lap which prompts him to turn it off.
-
"This was great, thanks for coming!" Cara hugs you as you and Spencer exit her house.
Luckily he had only pressed the button one more time when John seemed to be inspecting you for signs of him using it. That was until you dropped into the passenger seat of his car.
He flicks the vibrator on seemingly a low setting and stares at you as he backs out of the driveway. You don't give him the satisfaction of responding but have to sit up straighter.
He moves his thumb up to the next, more intense setting and you can't hide your response. You squeeze your legs together and bite down on your lip.
"You are infuriating," you spit at him. You dig your nails into his forearm and tilt your head back. God it felt so good, you hadn't had an orgasm in so long.
"Spencer," you draw out the warning. A moan escapes you though.
"So pretty when you moan," he breathes. He focuses on the road, the streetlight flashing over him as he drives. You don't miss his fingers gripping the steering wheel. "So much better than when you argue with me," he smiles at himself.
You drag his free arm over to you and force him to press the vibrator harder against you.
He obliges and flattens his palm between your spread legs, the sight of his strong arm there is intoxicating. You try to remember why you guys were arguing but come up with nothing.
"Spencer," you whimper and find yourself grinding yourself against the vibrator and his hand. "Please," you cry out as your legs start to shake.
Your orgasm fires through every nerve in your body, leaving chills all over. You let out a series of whimpers as you cum, the orgasm leaving you feeling deflated against the seat when he turns off the vibrator.
You glance over at him where he is trying desperately to keep his eyes on the road. But you eye his cock straining against his pants.
"Pull into this parking garage," you point ahead.
He glances at you in confusion with furrowed eyebrows but obliges.
"Get out of the car," you order when he parks on the empty top floor. He hurries out of the black SUV and you don't hesitate to grab the collar of his shirt.
You crash your lips into his hungrily until he's leaning back against the driver's side door. His tongue greedily invades your mouth and he tastes better than anyone else you've ever kissed. His large hands explore your waist and run up your back as he moans into the kiss.
Your hand finds the back door handle and you swing it open, shoving him in with a giggle. Both of you scoot in until you're straddling him, you can feel his erection against you.
"Are you sure?" He asks as you rip his shirt open.
"Shut up, Spence," you pant and kiss him hard with your hands in his hair. He flips the vibrator on, causing you to jump. "Damn it, Spencer," you groan and take the remote from him. You turn it off and throw it in the trunk.
He smiles and lets out an amused huff when you shuffle out of the thong. You lean back and undo his pants, pulling his impressive cock free.
"Oh," you gasp.
"You can do it," he praises as he slips his fingers into your cunt. You soak his fingers instantly, earning a satisfied moan from him.
You grip his hair near the back of his neck and angle yourself above it. Your pussy clenches with need as you ease down.
"Fucking hell," he throws his head back. "You're so tight."
"You started this, you better fuck me properly before you cum," you growl in his ear.
"Still talking shit?" He challenges you and bucks his hips upward.
You cry out as his entire cock is shoved inside of you, forcing you to stretch to his girth.
"You..." you start but then he grips your ass and thrusts upward again. You claw at his shoulders.
"I what?" He glances at you, his mouth agape as he watches you take his cock with each thrust he gives you.
His hand curls around your throat and he picks up speed as you hover slightly over him so he can fuck you deep. He trails his hand up and grips your jaw while he shoves his pointer and middle finger into your mouth.
"This smart mouth..." he muses. "Sounds so pretty crying out for me."
He snaps his hips hard upward, his cock slamming into your cervix until you scream. While one hand grips your jaw, the other moves to your clit. He massages it harshly, quickly as he fucks you.
You suck on his fingers as tears stream down your face from raw pleasure. He felt unbelievable and you were getting close. You were going to soak him like this. You were a squirter when penetration and clitoral stimulation mixed. You worried he would be disgusted but as you wound tighter you couldn't stop him.
"Fuck," comes your muffled cry.
"Cum for me baby, show me how much you hate me," he teases.
His filthy mouth is the last straw. Your body goes taut and your head rolls back. He takes the opportunity to grip your throat as your walls tighten around his cock, drawing a moan from him. You explode around him, you feel the liquid pouring out of you and down onto him.
"Holy shit," he pants in awe.
"Ah!" You keep cumming as he thrusts into you enthusiastically. He smiles, satisfied as his cock starts to pulse.
His cum fills you deliciously as you roll your hips onto him, greedily taking everything he has. The flesh between the two of you is drenched, its filthy, its so fucking hot.
Your phone rings. Hotch, fuck. You glance at Spencer who is still inside of you and shush him.
"Hotch," you answer the phone. "No nothing of note tonight. He didn't mention the minors."
Spencer tenses his cock inside of you, causing you to bite your lip when you feel his cum dripping out of you.
"Yeah I can send you the photos from his attic, Spencer got some good ones," you start teasing him back by grinding your hips.
You clamp your hand over his mouth as you tease his oversensitive cock by tightening your pussy.
"Yes sir, got it," you tell Hotch and hang up.
"You're impossible," you slap his chest and lift yourself off of him.
"I've never seen that before," Spencer blushes. Actually blushes despite what just happened.
"Seen what?" You ask as you pull your skirt down.
"So much... um so much..." he stumbles over his words.
"You've never been with a squirter?" You ask.
"No," he laughs nervously.
"Cherish it, it's the last time," you smirk and hop out of the car. You watch him adjust himself and fix his clothes through the window.
"We'll see about that," he winks and gets back into the drivers seat. Ugh.
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alexiroflife · 3 months
Text
being married to gojo as an actress while playing the role of a villain...
au, fluff, some suggestive themes, cheating themes
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🌟🌟🌟
both you, satoru, and probably the rest of the world can confidently say that satoru is your biggest fan. while he is fully successful within his own career, he can not help but fawn over your achievements like a ten year old boy with one of your movie posters hung up in his room
the world does not associate either of you without the other. yes, you have individually made an outstanding name for yourself within the television and theater industry, but your fans find the two of you so adorable, so iconic that it’s impossible to imagine you without satoru gojo and satoru gojo without you
viewers are starstruck when you arrive to your film premiers with satoru on your arm, beaming pridefully as though it’s his first time walking the red carpet when that’s hardly true. you’re beautiful, and everyone knows it. the second your eyes meet a camera along with satoru’s striking blue ones, his hand wrapped snugly around your waist and your faces adorned with dazzling smiles, photographers go wild. even more so when satoru blatantly grabs your face and kisses you all over, feeding your fan pages’ content as well as his desire to constantly shower you in affection
and when it’s not at premieres, satoru’s supporting you during tours, press conferences, galas, meet and greets, sitting backstage or in the front row of the crowd or at times by your side as though he can’t bear to be away from you. when you’re being showered in appreciation, he’s flicking thousands of pictures, capturing the way you interact with your adoring admirers
satoru's grown rather used to the array of roles you have played. he's seen you in rom-coms, dramas, thrillers, actions, you name it, and though he doesn't necessarily get jealous when you have to kiss someone on screen anymore, he doesn't always appreciate some of the intimate scenes you do. despite so, he trusts you. he knows it's your job and that none of it is real, and above all, he knows the faces you make when you're truly experiencing pleasure. while you're an amazing actor, those faces you make on screen could never begin to compare to the ones he draws out of you
ever the arrogant man, however, satoru always makes it a point to remind you of who makes you feel good- who has you crossing your legs under the table as you meet with colleagues over the computer, his fingers working their way in and out of your sopping cunt off camera as you try your damndest to keep a straight face while your entire lower half is squirming- who makes a point to fuck you over the dresser of your trailer in between shoots after having brought you some coffee to help keep your energy high, rambling on about how one of the tech assistants had been looking at you for too long- who, at any event possible, will never fail to lay you back on the seat of your limo before even stepping outside, scrunching up your obscenely priced gown to eat you out as he gazes up at you over your legs
"you're so gorgeous, pretty. my pretty girl," "how lucky am i to be the only one who gets to see you like this, hm?" "fuck, baby, they have no fuckin' idea how good you feel"
even with his habits, satoru will never turn his nose up at any role you play simply because you're far too talented and simultaneously devoted to him for him to ever feel put off by your occupation. besides, he's managed to bag one of the most famous actors in the world. he truly does not think he has anything to worry about when it comes to you
satoru finds himself rather surprised, yet excited nonetheless, when he hears that you are to be playing a dislikable character in the upcoming film of the summer. you warn him that it's drastically different, that you'll be tapping into a morally poor side of yourself for this role that you have never delved into, nor really favored before
"pretty, you'll do amazing. trust me. do i get to watch you be mean to other guys? do you get to beat anyone's ass? honestly, that sounds like a dream come true" "i mean, yeah, but toru it's more than that. my character is actually a bitch. an unfaithful, abusive one. i don't know how i'm gonna do that..."
satoru knows that behind all the glitz, glamor, and fame, the occupation of an actor can be incredibly emotionally and physically taxing. you don't tell him much more about the role before rehearsals and filming starts, but he can tell over time that you're struggling with this particular film. simply because you're just too kind of a person despite how large your presence is
well into the filming process, he decides to visit you on set to serve as some extra emotional support. he's watching from behind the cameras intently as you go through a scene that's way more intense than he had previously expected, and his jaw practically drops as he watches the scene play out before him
your character is being confronted by her husband about her infidelity, and all the while as your acting partner screams at you in tears to beg you for some remorse, you lay back on a sofa with a cigarette pinched between your fingers, face completely dull and apathetic
"how could you do this to me?! to us? why won't you look at me! I say something!"
"whatever i say won't change the fact that i fucked someone else."
"...do you even care? do you care that you've ruined our relationship?"
"let's be real, there was no relationship to begin with."
"w-what do you mean?"
you stand, stubbing your cigarette into a mug, and walk over to your sniveling scene partner. the camera zooms on your face, your dead eyes, your angled brows. "i never loved you. don't you get it? you're just a pet, and you know it. so don't go crying to me about breaking something that was never promised"
satoru's eyes are wide, completely enraptured as though this scene is a real moment he is witnessing from afar. your fake husband he breaks down, dropping to his knees and clinging to you, but you curl your lips in disgust.
"get the fuck off me," you hiss, shoving him rather aggressively away. he falls, sobbing. "pathetic piece of shit."
you go to turn away, but stop and stumble. immediately you break, and gone is the merciless woman that was acting before the crew seconds ago. the light returns to your eyes as you cover your mouth in embarrassment, looking up.
"sorry, i forgot my next block," you say sweetly, timidly. "how was that?"
"perfect! let's pick up from when you turn away. once you say that last line, you-"
satoru is baffled, the director's notes falling into muffled white noise as he stares at you. he's never seen you in such a position before, one that has him questioning everything about you. and though you claimed to have a hard time with it, you were doing fucking phenomenal
he sees now what you mean about your character being... well, a horrible person for lack of a better term. he doesn't even recognize you, and he's sure your fans are going to have a field day when this film comes out. you're being shown in a drastically different light from your heroine and emotionally relatable love interest positions, and it will surely be a sight for the world to see.
during your break, you walk up to satoru tiredly and burrow your face into his chest. he wraps you up immediately, babbling about how insane you were in your scene. you look up at him with those big (e/c) eyes as he runs his hand over the back of your head.
"you think so?"
"baby, my jaw was dropped the entire time. i don't even know how you did that. you played that a little too well."
he's joking, but you still make a face of slight fear, as though you're scared of offending him. "you think it's too much?"
"no- it's a lot, but no- it's perfect. it's bold, and you do it so well."
"it doesn't make you uncomfortable?"
"why would it make me uncomfortable, pretty? i know you're acting, and it's not like you'd ever cheat on me let alone act like that," he tilts his head as a remorseful look flashes through your eyes. "are you uncomfortable?"
"i don't know... i'm just scared of how people will react... mostly because i could never picture saying this stuff to you, and i've had to do a lot of exercises to get into this toxic mindset that just... eugh. trust me, you haven't even seen the half of it."
"have you been able to take long enough breaks?"
"kinda..."
"alright, let's go chill in your trailer 'til your next call. i don't want you stressing your pretty little head about this, princess. you're doing amazing and remember, it's just a movie."
and yes, it's just a movie. a movie that has satoru twitching in his seat during the premiere at how uncomfortably awful you're acting the entire time in the film. by now, you've eased into the feel of things and are rather proud of the work you''ve done, but also happy that it's all over. you hold satoru's hand tight during some of the worst scenes, sneaking glances at him as the screen flickers intensely over his glassy eyes. you can tell he's rather moved by it all, by seeing you in such a position, and you chew harshly on the inside of your lip
when the lights come up, you're given a standing ovation initiated of course by your rather emotional husband, but in his defense, the entire room has tears in their eyes as well. satoru's clapping harshly, and you try to hide your face as grateful tears spring in your eyes, grateful for this opportunity, for your accomplishments, for the support that surrounds you
satoru wraps you in a huge hug and whispers in your ear "don't ever do what you just did in that movie to me," he whimpers, and you laugh loudly because both of you know the thought is inconceivable. "you did so so good, baby. m'so proud of how far you've come"
that night, you shower each other with love. you're wrapped up in each other's limbs, your lips meeting every part of his skin to remind him that you are still you despite the realism of the character you played, and that satoru will always be your one and only you devote yourself faithfully to for the rest of your life. when the two of you have spent yourselves, satoru holds you in the moonlit darkness of your bedroom, arms wrapped around you from behind with your back to his chest. he kisses your shoulder softly, then your cheek
"you really liked the movie, toru?" you whisper. "i loved it," he mumbles into your skin. "but, god, i thought i was gonna have a heart attack almost fifty times and that one scene with you at the bar didn't help." "i knew you were gonna say something about that!" "i can't help it, baby, you were just so heartless and scary," he pouts
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calumfmu · 6 months
Text
sugar coated melting.
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Being assistant to the famous Steve Harrington wasn't an easy task, he was demanding as ever and made sure he was nice to everyone but you. But a job was a job, and it was the cost of working in Hollywood.
Famous!Steve Harrington x Assistant!reader (modern!au, with 40's Steve) 7.5k+ words
cw: older Steve Harrington, smut, loss of virginity, inexperienced!reader, AFAB reader, angst (what's new), mentions of death, swearing, 18+, mdni
Working with one of the most famous actors in the world was draining, exhausting, taxing, everything you could negatively describe. He was such a high maintenance person, he made your job seem like a constant boot camp run for the Navy Seals. Your best friend had cackled at that supply of information.
Steve wasn’t a bad person, no. He was handsome (obviously, he had been voted most handsome of the previous 2 years in a row), kind (to most people—who weren’t you), and compassionate (he let you eat his leftovers that one time you had gotten stuck on set for 16 straight hours). You were getting paid to say nice things about him if anyone had asked.
Life working as his head assistant was just a drag. It was everything you had dreamed of doing when you were a kid, working in Hollywood with big A-listers, attending red carpets, seeing the way movies worked. The job wasn’t the problem, it… was him.
A script was shoved into your hands as you thought of giving it to the man. The look on his face was burned into the back of your mind, irritation crossing his features as you imagined giving him the bad news. He always took things out on you, attitude forward as he said some slick remark.
Last minute script change, typical of productions like these. Something that anyone could expect while working on these things. Anyone with a normal level of patience would handle it well, take it with stride.
Your fingers rapped against the trailer door, aluminum warm to the touch from the sun beating down on it. Movement sounded behind the door, mumbling a few words out at you.
The door swung open, Steve rubbing at his eyes with his hair sticking in every direction. Fuck, he was asleep. It made it so much worse delivering the news.
“Heyyy, boss,” you beamed, voice raising a few octaves. You held out the script to him, cringing slightly. “Nothing too crazy, just a sliight chan-”
“No,” the door slammed in your face, your eyes closing as the bright reflection shone on you. Your smile immediately dropped, the reflection of your face on the white aluminum door looking back at you.
Red seethed through you, frustration prickling at the back of your neck. You knocked again, this day becoming even longer with each passing second.
“Mr. Harrington.” You were met with silence, ear pressing to the door to hear any movement. You waited a beat, knocking more urgently.
“Don’t want it, tell them no,” he grumbled behind the door, his voice sounded across the trailer, muffled through the closed door.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the patience to not go off on him. You were his assistant, not his agent, not the director of the film, not anything else. What did he realistically think you were going to do about a script change?
“‘M just delivering it, Mr. Harrington.” Your voice was level. “I don’t even think it’s your lines that changed.”
A faint note of music came through the door, Steve deciding to tune you out. Looking towards the sky, you squinted, finding prayer between the clouds.
“Mr. Harrington!”
Another PA walked by you, speaking into the earpiece she had with a clipboard in hand. You raised a hand to greet her, faux smile crossing your lips as you pretended everything was okay. She waved back, making her way in between the trailers and out of your eyesight.
As soon as she disappeared, your fist came up to bang at the door, louder than before.
It opened in the middle of your fit, you nearly stumbled into the trailer. You cut your eyes at your boss, biting your tongue at the swear words that threatened to come out.
The man was well past 30 years old, but still acted like a spoiled brat.
“Fine,” he said through his teeth, grabbing the stack of papers from your hand. He barely glanced at it before tossing it on the small couch behind him. Your eyes followed it, noticing the mess of bottles on the floor around it.
He followed your gaze with his own eyes, stepping into your eyesight as he closed the door slightly.
“Anything else, Yn?” A pinch of attitude at your name. Typical.
You smiled at the man, frustration disappearing as you were just grateful this episode of his didn’t last as long as it did last week.
“No, sir, that would be it for me,” you gave him a slightly bow, clasping your hands in front of you before swiveling on your heel. Descending the mini set of stairs, you rolled your eyes, back to him as you descended. “Fucking twat.”
“I heard that!” His voice was far behind you, your feet moving fast across the blacktops. You smiled back at him, waving as confusion crossed your features.
“Sorry sir, I said it was fucking hot!” You lied straight through your teeth. “Outside, you know? Pardon my language.”
You rolled your eyes once more, turning back on your mission to get back inside the building. You and him both knew what you said, but you didn’t have it in you to care. Nothing you did would get you fired, trust, have you tried.
It was like you were in your own personal Purgatory. You assumed Steve liked you, he wouldn’t fire you even on your worst days. You had fucked up many times, forgetting things, slipping up on his to do list, calling the wrong people for the wrong events. More recently, he had heard the rude nicknames you had for him, and he just didn’t seem to care.
You had heard him one time, whisper under his breath about “best help in Hollywood”. It was sarcastic of course, his eye roll you’ve been well acquainted with to follow.
The last few weeks have been more of a hell for you, Steve becoming more temperamental and moody, you becoming the worst employee on planet Earth. You begged to be fired at this point, your shot at unemployment looking more and more appetizing.
A sudden ring cut through the air, your back pocket buzzing. Pulling it out, you nearly ripped your hair out, Steve’s contact popping up on the screen. I could ignore it, you thought. This could finally be my chance at escaping him.
Your thoughts were cut short, the phone ringing again as Steve's name popped up. He didn't even let the first one finish before trying you again.
"Oh, Mr. Harrington," you breathed, hand pressed into your brow as you answered. "Hi, sorry, sir. Did you need me?"
"Need you to come back," you heard him say, voice muffled as he seemed to be doing other things on the other side of the line. Your feet responded before your brain did, autopilot in motion. "Script's not fucking working, and I just-"
Something fell in the background, and your footsteps faltered. You ignored it, rolling your eyes yet again at his antics.
"Are you okay, sir?" You asked, seeing his trailer in the distance. One of the trailer windows had its blinds half up, he paced back and forth.
You approached it, listening to him as he rambled on the phone, speaking about how much he hated this director and his damn agent for giving him these roles. Fighting back laughter, you cosigned with him, not choosing to mention that this stupid role was worth $13 million.
You raised your fist to knock at the door, it swinging open before you could even make a noise. The three dial tones of the phone call ending rung in your ears, Steve grumbling at you to enter.
"A-are you sure, sir?" Hesitation filled you, you weren't used to stepping into his trailer. You think you'd been in it once during the last seven months of production, grabbing his left behind cell phone before they traveled to location.
Steve didn't look at you the whole time, just muttering words under his breath as he held the brand new scripts in his hand. He was pacing, feet burning holes in the carpet of the trailer.
You slowly stepped in, apprehensively closing the door behind you. Hands clasped in front of you, you stood in close proximity to the door, eyes shifting over the large trailer.
He had clothes thrown over one end of the vehicle, previous scripts sitting on the makeshift table, and a half full glass of a dark colored liquid next to it. You eyed it, brow furrowing as you swore this man had been sober for the past few years--or at least, that's what the news outlets said about him. Not like you kept up.
"Sir," you interjected his thoughts, causing him to stop in place. He still didn't look at you. "Why am I here?"
Curt answers were the easiest way for you to pretend to be nice to him. You knew you couldn't be outright rude, this was your boss after all. Saying stuff under your breath and if he accidentally heard was another thing.
He ignored you.
"How is this supposed to be the Oscar nomination when they have me acting like this?" He exhaled a small shout at the end of his words, your eyes squinting at the volume. "Does this make sense to you? It's like they want me to make a fool of myself, no?"
You shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the floor. "I'm not sure how you want me to answer that, sir."
He waited a moment, sighing loudly as he collapsed on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes. You looked at him then, seeing the way his chest heaved as he shook his eyes. The sun was setting now, golden hour lighting inching through the windows over his figure. His bed head was still wild, even more messy than it was previously.
"W-what would you like me to do, sir?" You asked, arms crossing over your chest as you felt the awkwardness creep into the air. This was the longest you had been in a room with him, at least, with no one around.
Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you took note of your 'shift' being almost over. It was a quarter to seven, your freedom lingering in the distance.
"Sir?"
"Enough!" He cut out, breaking his silence. You jumped at the words, ducking your head as his outburst came. This was the Steve you knew, the short tempered boss who was always so moody whenever things didn't go his way.
You opted for silence, not daring to speak as you awaited his next choice of words.
His arm left his face, palm running down his features as he stared into the ceiling of the trailer.
"Sorry, I just," his voice was significantly lower. He sat up on the edge of the couch, his palms resting on his thighs. "I just need you to take me home."
Your eyes closed briefly, irritation quickly crossing you as you realized this was going to be a longer day than you imagined. If Steve had needed you longer than you were scheduled, then so be it.
"Why?" The word wasn't supposed to come out, replacing the 'okay' that sat on the edge of your mouth.
His gaze cut to you quickly, searching your face as you stood there. Eyes burning slightly, you felt tears prickling. The pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and Friends rerun marathon looking further away from you could bring you to tears.
"Because I employ you, do I not?" The harshness in his words did nothing but fuel the 'Hollywood Tell All' feature you planned for the day you quit.
"You do, sir, yes," You muttered, hands dropping to your side in defeat. "I just thought you'd drive yourself like normal. You know, day ends, and I'll see you here the next day, eight sharp like normal."
"I can't--no," he answered, standing up as he gathered his things. "I don't have to explain myself to you. You just need to take me home. You can drive my car."
The words to protest him were lost in your throat. You complied with his actions, eyes to the floor as he finished gathering his things. Following him out of the trailer, you sighed, feeling like you were walking into a lion's den.
The walk to the private lot was silent, Steve grumbling to himself as he texted someone on his phone. You noticed his phone ringing several times, his thumb finding the red button to end it each time. Curse words came out of his mouth every few seconds, a few from your own mouth being added to the mix as you thought of ways to leave.
As the two of you came across an old school beemer sitting deep in the parking lot, he threw the keys at you, settling into the passenger seat. Reluctantly, you slide in the driver's seat, feeling the leather interior beneath your fingers.
"Nice car, boss," You whispered, checking out how the car didn't even look a day out of 1985. Steve side eyed you, nodding at the compliment before returning to his phone.
"Get us there in one piece, yeah?"
You sucked your teeth as his comment, shaking your head before starting the car. It was like it was impossible for him to be a decent person. Here you were, doing something for this man which may or may not be in your contract, and he couldn't even say thank you to a compliment about his car.
The ride was silent save for an old tape that played in the car. Some band from the 80's you noted, a little too old for your taste. Steve's fingers tapped away at his phone, not focused on the LA traffic you sat in for most of the drive. He gave you directions to his swanky high rise, ignored you as you struggled to keep up with him.
You pulled into an underground garage, valet men coming immediately, opening the door for you as they took the keys. Everything happened in such fast motion, you barely noticed he was half way to the elevator. Jogging to catch up with him, you turned your own attention to your phone, thumb hovering over the Uber app.
Steve took a call, fingers rapidly pressing the elevator button as he spoke (yelled) at the person on the other end.
"No, Robin, I'm not doing that, okay?" He said, voice gruff as he glanced at you. You heard the static voice of the person on the other line, seeming to be yelling at him too.
The elevator dinged, the two of your bodies stepping in as the doors opened. The transportation app on your phone lagged, loading bar stagnant on your screen.
"No, I get it, it's been years. Fine, I-" Steve groaned in frustration, eyes repeatedly shifting over to you as you tried to tune out the phone call. You stared at the numbers the elevator passed, the first floor blinking by before you could say anything. Your phone remain in your hand, screen dimming as it began to time out.
"Robin. I know."
The voice on the other line picked up, the woman's voice growing even louder. Steve pulled the phone away from his ear slightly, grimacing at the volume. The elevator stopped at a floor labeled 'P', doors opening to a mini lobby that ended in double doors. He went over to unlock them, key fob in his hands as a beep sounded through the empty room.
As he stepped through them, phone balanced on his shoulder with his ear pressed to it, he looked at you. You stood right outside the elevator, doors closing behind you as you didn't know what to do.
He held open his front door, hand waving at you in frustration. "Well, are you coming in?"
You pressed your lips together, another wave of irritation pulling at your teeth. Eyes half rolling, you nodded, entering the doors as he closed and locked it behind you.
Steve moved fast, throwing his jacket over a couch that lay in the middle of the giant room, toeing off his shoes by its side. You stood in place, not sure what to do as your boss made his way around his home.
You took note of the place, not picturing that he would live in a place like this. It was modern, with a touch of old school fashion. Retro furniture, expensive nonetheless. Floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the city. However, not a touch of life, no personal pictures, no sign of family, or anything personal that may shine light on what type of person he truly was.
You stepped in further to the place, watching as Steve made his way to a cabinet in his kitchen. Observing him over the breakfast bar, you saw into the open kitchen, watched him as he grabbed a rocks glass and a bottle of something pushed far back into a cabinet.
He continued on the phone, placing it on speaker as he began to open the bottle. He struggled at first, face turning up as his hands twisted on the cap.
Slowly making your way around the room, you glanced around, expecting him to yell at you for even being here, despite inviting you in.
"Steve," you heard the voice on the other line say. His eyes drifted towards the phone, pouring a hefty shot. "All I'm saying is, I miss you. And care for you. I love you. I want you to be okay today, alright?"
Steve grunted in response, not noticing your proximity to him. You cleared your throat slightly, wanting to gain his attention.
The woman on the phone waited for more of a response. Once it was clear she wasn't going to get one, she sighed. "If you change your mind, you know where to find us."
"Yeah sure," his tone was rude, eyes boring into the glass of dark liquid that sat in front of him. His fingers danced at the rim.
"Eddie would've wanted you to come."
Steve's body language immediately stiffened, finger moving to hang up the phone before throwing back the shot of liquor. His face grimaced at the taste, slamming the glass back on the table.
You didn't know what to say, looking anywhere but at your boss.
"Fuck, I forgot you were even here," he suddenly said, hand running through his hair. His hand was on his hip, eyes glossy as he looked at you. You chewed at your bottom lip, nodding as he stared at you. He pointed to the alcohol, shrugging. "Drink?"
Declining, your head shook. "I don't drink, sir."
"Ahh," he said, grabbing the glass and bottle as he headed towards the couch. "Good girl."
He threw himself down on the furniture, exhaling loudly as he stretched out. His eyes were closed as you stood across the room.
"Hey, I-I think I'm gonna go," you said, beginning to walk towards the exit. "I'll see you tomorrow."
As you crossed the room, Steve's voice called out to you. Your movements stopped, turning on your heel to look at him.
"Stay?" He asked you, eyes huge as they looked in your direction. You took note of his features, blinking at him as he awaited your response. Your boss was approaching his 40's, however, in this moment, he looked just like a little kid. Pictures of him in his teen years you had seen on the Internet were pushed to the forefront of your mind.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Harrington," you muttered, wanting to leave the scene.
His eyes fell to the floor briefly before he spoke out, "Steve."
"Huh?" You were confused, this sudden change in his attitude.
"You can call me Steve," he said, shifting his body as he relaxed into the couch. "We've known each other for a few years now, figured we should might as well be on a first name basis."
Fighting back the eye roll, you were reminded in the ways your boss had made your life into chaos.
"I bet you a million dollars, you don't even know my name, sir."
His gaze softened, laughing out loud as your hard exterior slowly came back.
"Yn." He muttered, smile dancing at his mouth.
You didn't know what to say, stuck between dashing out of his apartment or staying and seeing what type of Steve Harrington you were going to get today.
"I figure I should apologize for the way I've acted today," he said, turning forward as his gaze left your way. You didn't know why, but your feet followed it, walking closer so you could sit next to him. Lowering your self on the couch, you felt self conscious, like he was going to snap any second.
You snorted, "Today?"
He was staring at the bottle of alcohol in front of him, smile still on his face. Laughing at your comment, he shrugged.
"I have been a dick, haven't I?" He whispered, shaking his head as the smile slowly dropped from his face. His voice dropped to a whisper, eyes unfocused as he stared in front of himself. "Such a fucking dick."
You didn't know why, but you felt the need to comfort the man. He was clearly going through something at the moment, if the look alone on his face was any tell.
"Hey, not too bad of one," you wanted to reach out to grab him.
"Don't lie," he laughed, head turning your way. His eyes met yours, deep brown staring into the color of yours. You noticed moles dotting his face, slight lines of aging covering his features. He was still youthful, his eyes telling the tale of a once young boy who was within. "I've been terrible. And you don't deserve that."
A pang hit your heart, feeling the weight of his words. You didn't really deserve his treatment. No matter if he paid you or not.
He continued his words, eyes staring past you. "And yet here I am, sitting here with my assistant. Drinking for the first time in years." A laugh bubbled out of him, hands running down his face as he leaned further back into the couch. "You know I'm supposed to be in Indiana right now?"
You shook your head, not wanting to interrupt him. Making yourself comfortable, you took off your shoes, slipping your feet underneath yourself.
"Well, I'm supposed to be in Indiana, it's the 20th anniversary of, uhm," his voice cracked, eyes welling up with a tear that was blinked back. "It's the anniversary of one of my friend's dying, and I'm not there."
Breath catching in your throat, you didn't know what to say.
"I'm sorry, sir," you muttered, hand reaching out to rest at his thigh. The touch was inappropriate, but so was this interaction you could say.
He looked down at your hand, watching your thumb as it brushed over his jeans.
"It's okay," he responded, eyes finding yours again. "It's been so long."
You nodded, eyes scanning his face as he forced the corners of his mouth to be turned into a smile. You saw right through it, recognizing the pain of a lost loved one straight through. "I don't think that matters."
His face dropped, sincerity crossing his features as he dipped to glance at your hand once more. Silence over took the two of you, the faint sounds of the streets of LA below you, Steve's staggered breathing as he willed himself not to cry. You were patient, finding comfort in the air as he found his words.
"We were all so young, and it feels so long ago, almost like it doesn't exist anymore," he finally said, voice even. "But I know it does. I just have to face it, I've been running from it ever since it happened."
He gestured to his surroundings, and the puzzle clicked into place. This fame and jerk persona that Steve carried himself in, hid the real him. He ran from all of his problems, like anyone else would, especially when dealing with something as traumatic like he had.
You didn't know the details, didn't care to ask, since it seemed to affect him so much. All you knew was that person who had passed so long ago did matter to him, in ways that you couldn't imagine.
Letting him continue his mumblings about the person he used to know, you found out that his name had been Eddie, the one you heard on the phone before. Robin, long time best friend of his, was trying to get him to come out to reconnect with everyone, he hadn't seen much of them since the 'accident', as he had called it. He kept in touch with everyone over the phone, but seeing them in person was a whole different story. It opened up old wounds that he was afraid of what it might bring out.
The story was slightly confusing, him mentioning something about how they all had nearly lost their lives, details that would leave you wondering what this man had gone through. None of this information was available about him in the public, his childhood always being a vague story that never connected.
"So you have kids then?" You questioned, confused on how you never picked up on this detail. There had to have been at least five of them, names you had never heard before now.
Steve laughed suddenly, shaking his head as his hand rested on your own thigh. The two of you were much closer now, as his story unfolded. Your thighs were touching, each other's hands on resting upon each other, mere inches away from your faces.
"No, I don't have any. I guess, I should stop calling them kids now, you know?" His laugh was low in his throat. "They have kids of their own at this point, so they're far from it."
"Oh..." You were dumbfounded, all of this information being at a loss to you. You weren't here to understand, just here to listen.
"You know what, I'm sorry," he suddenly said, removing his hand from your leg. You wanted to whine at the absence, cold replacing his warm touch. "Maybe you should go, actually. This is pretty, uhm..."
"Unprofessional?" You supplied, inching closer as your boss sat there, wide eyed looking at you. In the dark light of his apartment, you could see the way his brown eyes glimmered at you. "I guess we're even then, me calling you a twat earlier."
Steve cackled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thought of the events earlier.
"I knew you said that!"
You blushed, fighting back your own smile.
"It's not my fault, you were acting like one." Your lips pursed together, observing the older man in front of you.
Silence crept over you, the first break in conversation since his phone call ended earlier. Steve stared at you, eyes darting over your features as his teeth scraped over his bottom lip. You felt shy under his gaze, not knowing what to think of the moment as your boss was closer in proximity than he had ever been in your life.
"Can I make it up to you?"
His voice was low, and you were nodding before you even knew what he meant. Grabbing your cheek in his hand, the man leaned forward, capturing your lips into his. The gasp in your throat was lost in his mouth, a shuttering moan coming out instead.
His lips were soft, slightly chapped as they moved against yours. Fluttering your eyes closed, you leaned into the kiss, moving your hand so it rest at the curve of his hip, belt loop curling in your fingers.
He tasted of whiskey, the remnants of the few shots he had earlier lingering on his tongue. Steve pulled away slightly, muttering, "This okay?" against your lips as you nodded, pulling him in by his hair with your other hand.
Your breath grew more shallow as the kiss continued, leaning back as Steve began to tower over you. He shifted in his seat, covering your body with his own as he began to push you back into the couch. His figure was large over yours, scent of vanilla and cedar nearly suffocating you.
With your back flush against the couch, Steve removed himself from your lips, pressing a slight kiss against your jaw. You arched into the touch, palms running over the tight muscle of his back.
"S-steve," you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips kissed over your neck. Each press of his mouth sent fireworks down your spine.
He returned his lips to yours, moving with a passion that was lacking previously, confidence replacing the apprehension he once felt.
Your legs spread, inviting him to nestle in between, the thick material of his jeans rubbing against your own. A bulge was present, the thought of what lay underneath sending goosebumps over your skin.
Steve was lost in the kiss, his mouth nipping at yours as he reached down to unbutton your pants, slipping a hand to run over the front of your panties.
"W-wait," you muttered, grabbing his wrist as you pulled away from the kiss. He was confused, mouth red and swollen. His fingers pressed at your covered clit, a small shot of pleasure running through you.
"What's wrong, Yn?" The hand connected to his elbow that propped him up, ran through your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. Concern crossed his features, searching your face as doubt crossed it.
"I just, uhh," you felt shy, avoiding his eye contact as the words stumbled out. "I've never really done this before?"
His eyes bulged out, sitting up suddenly as he leaned over you. Closing your eyes in embarrassment, you pressed the palm of your hand to your forehead. Way to ruin the moment.
"Oh," he breathed, eyes wide as he scanned you. "We don't-- fuck, sorry. I'm so, uh, wow."
He stood up suddenly, leaving you laying on your back as embarrassment colored your cheeks. You didn't know what to say as the older man panicked.
"Maybe, uh, maybe this was a bad idea," he shook his head, hand reaching down to palm at the front of his pants. Your eyes followed his hand, noticing the prominent bulge.
You spoke out, shaking your head as you didn't make any effort to move. The turn of events tonight made you realize how much you did want the man who stood before you.
"No, we can, it's okay," you said, reaching out to grab his hand that hung by his side. He looked down at your grasp before bringing his eyes to meet yours. "It's alright."
He hesitated, sputtering over something to say.
"Steve, it's okay," you pulled him down, his knees straddling the sides of your hips as he reluctantly settled into the couch. His eyes ran over your body, lingering at the spot where your pants were unbuttoned, cotton panties exposed.
"A-are you sure?" He questioned, moving to lean back down over you. You nodded, leaning up on your elbows to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His tongue darted out, wetting your bottom lip.
A breathy moan escaped your mouth, palm caressing the front of his shirt.
"I want to, it's fine."
You knew it was now or never, this moment with your boss being an opportunity that you couldn't have passed up. You always had a crush on him growing up, the face of Hollywood you would see in your teen magazines, posters covering the room of your friends. Working for him would've never had you imagining that it would lead to this moment.
Steve took control of the situation, kissing down your neck as his hand returned between your legs, pants thrown across the room somewhere. It had happened so fast, you barely noticed the cool air that pulled goosebumps from your skin.
"Tell me if you want to stop, okay?" He muttered, freshly shaved stubble prickling against your chin. You could barely get out a moan as your underwear was pulled down your legs, catching at the crook of your ankles.
You felt his fingers brush over your folds, pressing lightly at the slick entrance. His thumb rubbed in small circles over your small bundle of nerves, an eye-rolling feeling that spread your legs apart. His fingers pushed inside, his own moan coming out over yours.
The feeling of the intrusion had you panting, spreading your legs wider while his thick fingers worked you.
"M-more," you begged, throwing your head back as his fingers found a rhythm. He stretched you out over two fingers at this point, thumb collecting slick as it rubbed over your clit.
Steve's fingers curled inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot deep inside. The look on his face was one of admiration, mouth slack as he looked down at you falling apart under his touch.
"That's okay?" His voice was husky, deep with arousal as your hips began to move in time with his fingers. Your orgasm was approaching, hips moving on their own accord as you chased that high.
"God, yes, Steve."
Pushing your shirt up past your bra, Steve gaped at the sight before him, your fingers dipping inside your bra to toy at your own breasts.
"You look so perfect, angel," he muttered, leaning down to capture your lips into his as you fell apart. That white blinding of your orgasm crept in, starting at the base of your spine and blossoming through your entire body. Against his mouth, you shouted out, squeezing your eyes shut as he fingered you through the high.
It took a minute for you to catch your breath, legs spasming from the shocks of the orgasm. You hissed at the over stimulation, Steve pressing into your clit one last time before removing himself from you.
You felt shy suddenly, the haze from the orgasm clearing as you realized you had just done unimaginable things with your boss. Seeming to read your mind, Steve pressed small kisses around the perimeter of your face.
"It's alright," he said, hovering over you. Against your thigh, you could feel his bulge rub against you. "How are you feeling, good?"
You nodded, words at a loss in your throat. You reached up to place a hand on his neck, the other at his waist as you played with the hem of his shirt. His eyes fluttered close briefly before glancing down at where you were slightly tugging his shirt up.
He made eye contact with you, chewing on his bottom lip. "I need words, angel. Gotta make sure everything is 100% okay, okay?"
"I'm alright, Steve," you gasped, looking down where your own hand rubbed at the exposed part of his abdomen. You needed more, wanted to feel him all over you. You began to pull his shirt over his body, watching as he glanced down at you with hooded eyes. "Just need more of you."
He slowly nodded, sitting back on his knees as he unbuttoned his own pants and slid them down his legs. You giggled at him as he struggled to get them off, the smoothness he had previously disappearing as he nearly toppled off the couch.
You pulled your own shirt and bra off of you, dropping them on the floor next to the couch. "Nice own, old man," you laughed, returning to your spot against the couch.
He frowned at you, lip jutting out in an over exaggerated pout. "Heeyy, I still got it."
You were left breathless, the laughter disappearing at the tip of your tongue as his figure returned to cover your body. The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance, the wetness pooling at the head leaving you gasping.
Steve reached down to rub his cock against the length of your cunt, spreading the slick all over as you arched into him.
"Fuuckk, Steve." You hooked your ankle over his hip, warmness pooling in your belly at the thought of him being inside you. His eyes raked over you, lingering on your nipples as they shook with each moan you gave.
"You sure about this, Yn?" He asked, leaning down to dart his tongue over the skin of your breast. It sent shivers down your spine, another wave of heat rushing to your core. "I don't want to do anything you'll regret."
"'M not gonna regret this," you gasped, feeling the way the head of his cock slightly pushed at you. It burned, fuck, he was big.
The slight intrusion had you gripping at his back, leaving crescent moon marks in the skin. Your breath came out ragged, a whine scratching at the back of your throat.
Steve grunted at you, pushing in slowly as he buried his head into your shoulder. He stopped every few inches, hips stuttering slightly as he fought back to urge to fuck back into you full force.
Being an all new feeling, you couldn't help but mewl at every burn of the stretch, a fullness you had never experienced before.
He pressed to the hilt, hips flush against yours as Steve gasped for air in tune with you. He pulled his head back to make eye contact with you, forehead resting against yours. You felt the slight grinding of his hips against yours, the fullness becoming too much as you were stretched over him.
"You gotta bare with me, baby." The nickname had you moaning, fingers reaching down to dig at the plumpness of his ass. You could barely keep your eyes open, senses overwhelmed with Steve. "'S been a while for me."
Nodding, you gasped as he reared his hips back before they stuttered into you again. The movement sent a wave of slick between your thighs again, pleasure blinding you.
He found his rhythm, hips fucking into you slowly, languidly as you fell apart beneath him. You rocked with every movement of his hips, hands running over the tan skin of his body above you.
Finding his lips, you moaned against his mouth, savoring the feeling that was building up in your abdomen as the two of you moved in sync.
Steve gave you words of affirmation, hips drilling into you over and over as his cock brushed over your deep bundle of nerves. Bliss approached you once more, wetness dripping all over him as you were brought to that high again.
"Gonna cum, Steve," you whispered against his mouth, back arching into him. He reached down between you, fingers toying at your clit as they began to rub in small circles.
"Cum for me baby," he breathed, voice low as your eyes rolled back. His voice brought you over the edge, high shout escaping your lips as that pleasure took over you again.
As he fucked your through your orgasm, his own approached, hips losing their rhythm as you felt his release deep inside you. A low groan of his came out, a breathy fuck being the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes.
Your body felt light, head foggy as you came down from your orgasm. It was pure bliss what you felt, heart pounding in your chest as sleep took over you.
You shot out of bed, frantically searching for your phone as you realized the sun was creeping through the curtains. Crisp, white sheets were pooled around you, swallowing you up whole.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered, trying to search for your device in the darkness of the room. The dark curtains were drawn, only allowing a sliver of light in, but enough for you to realize how late in the morning it was.
As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, anxiety crept over you, realizing you weren't in your room. A tossing figure lay next to you, his body half covered as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. In that moment, everything from last night came crashing back, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.
"Hey, Yn, what's wrong?" Steve's voice was groggy, as he blinked in the darkness of the room. He glanced towards the curtains and then to you, noticing the way you covered your frame with the corner of the sheet.
"What time is it?" You half shouted, looking on the bedside table for your phone. Steve was no help, slowly stretching out his limbs as he yawned.
"Too fucking early for you to be that loud," he muttered, sitting up on his elbows. The sheet pooled around his waist, exposing his bare abdomen and a deep V that cut below his waist.
You quickly looked away, blush deepening on your face. "We have to go, Ste-Mr. Harrington. We're gonna be in so much trouble."
You heard him chuckle at you, sighing as he relaxed once again in the bed. His arms circled your waist, pulling you down into him as you continued to panic. He lay behind you, your head resting on his chest as he buried his face into your shoulder.
"Shhh," he whispered, tightening his grip on your waist. "Called in today, came down with something apparently."
You shook your head, resting your hands on his where they rested on your stomach. "Can you even do that?"
"What are they gonna do? Fire me?" He laughed, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. The anxiety that built up in your spine disappeared at his touch, the familiarity of his body replacing it. You turned in his arms, now chest to chest with the man.
His eyes were closed, sleepiness still evident over his features.
"Are you going to fire me?" You whispered at him, watching as his brow furrowed before he squinted open his eyes at you.
"What? No, what are you talking about?" He seemed genuinely confused at your question, hand rubbing at your waist. Relief took stake in your chest.
"I slept with my boss last night," you laughed at yourself, voice dropping even lower as you saw a smirk cross his face. He was smug, shaking his head with laughter as you playfully slapped at his chest.
"Pretty sure I'm the one with a lawsuit pending if anything," he said, laughter dying as you placed a small peck to his lips.
As you pulled away, he leaned into it further, tongue darting out to lick at yours. A wave of arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach.
He towered over you, mouth nipping at you as you sighed into the kiss. The two of you moved in sync, you moving onto your back as Steve leaned over your figure. A breathy moan escaped your lips, only to be cut off by his phone ringing.
"For fuck's sake," he grumbled, separating himself from you as he reached for it on his side of the bed. He answered it quickly, realizing it was his publicist as he placed it on speaker. "What d'you need, man?"
His lips returned to yours briefly, before kissing down your neck. The sheets were slowly pulled off of you as he made his way down, nipping at your chest, then your nipple, and soft kisses pressed to your stomach.
Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, trying to stay as quiet as possible as his publicist droned on about some appearance he had to make in the next week. Steve was staring up at you, making small confirmation 'mhm's' in response to the phone call. A coy smile was on the corners of your mouth as you looked down at him wide eyed.
'Stop' you mouthed through gritted teeth. He nipped at your hip bone in protest, shaking his head at you.
You couldn't tell if it was Steve's mouth pressing to your heat or the next word's of his publicist that made your stomach drop.
"While we're at it, Steve, how about we talk how Page Six has pictures of you with a mysterious somebody in your apartment building?" They grumbled, voice staticy as it came through the phone. You felt Steve smirk against you, tongue lapping between your legs. "Aren't we a little too old to bring people back to your own place like that?"
A moan escaped you as you gripped at his hair. Steve looked up at you, wide eyed as he reached up to slap a hand across your mouth. 'Shhh', he mouthed, his own laugh threatening to spill out as his publicist's voice faltered at the noise.
"St-steve?" It said, apprehension in the tone. "Are you doing what I think you're doing? Really, man?"
Steve laughed as his hand remained over your mouth, muffling the sounds of your own laughter. They would recognize it if they heard it. He grabbed the phone from where it lay abandon, speaking into it as his thumb hovered the 'end call'.
"Something came up, gotta take care of it," he grimaced at you as you licked his hand. "Bye!"
He hung up right as the voice protested, tossing his phone aside as he leaned over you once again. His long hair hung in his face, eyes raking over your naked body.
"Now... where were we?"
an: I had to sneak in a line from All of Us Strangers because that movie was so moving. If you know, you know. I promise one of these days, I won't make Steve an asshole right off the bat, he'll be lovable.
masterlist. inbox and requests are open!
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techdriveplay · 2 months
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Top Safety Features in Modern Cars
Safety is a paramount concern for both car manufacturers and drivers. Over the years, technological advancements have significantly enhanced vehicle safety, making modern cars safer than ever before. Here are the top safety features in modern cars that are transforming the driving experience. Over 94% of serious crashes are due to human error, making advanced safety features crucial. Vehicles…
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kokomyass · 2 months
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Genshin headcannons ☆ Traveller finding out that you are in a relationship with genshin characters pt.3
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Genshin x Fem!Reader
Genre: ☁️
Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!
featuring: Itto, Tighnari, Lyney
synopsis: in which, traveller and paimon find out you are an ✨️ITEM✨️!!!
Notes: for itto you are part of the L/N (last name) clan, for tighnari you are a forest ranger and for lyney you are his wonderful assistant!!
a/n: thank you anon for the request I enjoy writing these and it makes me giggle with I write them because I feel like I can imagine them happening....anyways enjoy lovlies!!
Itto
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The Traveller and Paimon had found themselves in Inazuma again, this time just for some fun.
To their suprise one of the first people they encountered was the infamous Arataki Gang having what seemed to be a meeting in the middle of nowhere making an absolute ruckus with Shinobu stood with her arms crossed wishing she was somewhere else.
"Alright, gang! Today's meeting is super important! We gotta decide what to buy for our new, amazing, drop dead gorgeous, special member....AKA my girlfriend!" Arataki Itto's voice echoed.
"Well, if it isn't Bull Chucker! Fancy seeing you hear...making a LOT of noise as usual...." Itto turned his head and noticed the Traveller and Paimon making their way to where he was stood, a beam making its way on his face.
"Well, if it's isn't my amigos, the Traveller and little Lavender Melon Paimon!!" he boomed out.
"Hello, Traveller and Paimon it is nice to see you once again." Kuki said calmly in contrast to Itto's voice.
"Hey guys! Nice to see you too! What are you all up too? You seem awfully excited Itto....well more excited than usual..." Paimon asked with confusion.
"Well I am glad you asked, we have a newest member who also happens to be-"
Before Itto could finish his sentence, you approached, holding a pot that steamed with a delicious aroma.
You had a confident yet gentle smile on your face as Itto looked at you mesmerised. The Traveller definitely didn't miss this romantic gaze.
"Sorry I'm late, everyone," you said, setting the pot down. "I brought food for everyone too eat!"
"Y/N! You're just in time! Everyone, meet Y/N from the L/N clan AND my girlfriend. She has joined the Arataki gang to be in charge of making meals, since she loves to cook for people!"
"Hello all, nice to meet you. I have heard so much about you! All good things don't worry!" You chuckle as Paimon and The traveller looked back and forth between you and Itto looking stunned.
"The L/N clan?!?! How on earth did you pull a member of the rich, powerful and famous L/N clan? I suppose your good at some things...."
"HUH?! Shut it Lavender Melon!! The way we met isn't important-"
"Oh, it's rather romantic, don't you think Itto!" you wrapped your arm around Itto's after interrupting him and resting your head on his arm, as he sweatdropped.
"He broke into my residence to get some flowers, but I caught him and then we got chatting and obviously I fell in love with him!"
"WHAT?!?!?" Paimon and The traveller shouted as you and Kuki laughed and Itto couldn't look up.
"What can I say....I am a charisma king, I must say!"
Tighnari
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Despite being in a relationship with the smartest person you know, his knowledge clearly didn't rub off on you because you felt like you were getting dumber by the day.
It all started when Tighnari had asked you and Collei to go identify some mushrooms to distinguish if the were edible or not to update the Avidya Forest Survival Guide.
After seeing a mushrooms that 'had to be edible' in your terms you decided to take a bite. Whilst the flavour was lovely to start off the with dizziness that came after was a clear indicator that it was probably poisonous
"Collei! Who is this and what's going on?!" you see through your lidded eyes a high pitched flying fairy and someone who looks like they are from out of Teyvat.
"Traveller, Paimon! Perfect timing! There is no time to explain but please help me take her to Master Tighnari!!"
Next thing you know you pass out completely and wake up with Tighnari sat on your bed checking your temperature and checking for any rashes.
"Tigh...nari??" you mumble reaching for him as he holds your hand.
"Ah Y/N, you are awake. Now what did I tell you and what have I always told you about the mushrooms you eat? What made you think eating this mushroom would benefit you! You have to listen to me or worse things could happen and you-" He stopped rambling and let out a big sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I'm sorry, Nari...I promise I won't do it again..." you were now sat up looking guilty as he engulfed you in a hug that you reciprocated.
"Don't worry, just....be careful. I don't want to lose you."
"AHEM!!! Sorry to interrupt but the are still 2 very confused people stood here!!" Paimon burst out.
"My apologies, this Y/N a forest ranger and my girlfriend, she also takes care of Collei from time to time. Y/N, this is the Traveller and Paimon that I have told you about." Tighnari casually said patting your head as he got up to go to his table.
"Hey guys! It is a pleasure to meet you! I apologise for the circumstances...I can be rather clumsy at times..." you chuckle slightly as you sweatdropped.
"Nice to meet you too! I hope we become close friends! We didn't know you had a girlfriend Tighnari....it must be refreshing since you are opposites"
"Quite! It Master Tighnari says no about something I can go to Master Y/N and she will say yes!!" Collei happily exposes you and herself as you sweatdrop and Tighnari's head snaps back.
"COLLEI!!" both you and Tighnari shout as the Traveller and Paimon sit there chuckling.
Lyney
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It was very dark at night and the Traveller and Paimon had just finished doing a commission for Katheryne and decided that the weather was nice enough to go on a scenic walk.
What they didn't expect to see on a cliff was a figure who looked like Lyney and another figure opposite him sat on a picnic blanket.
After some consideration they both mutually decided to approach you both.
What they didn't know is that you and Lyney were on a date, something you barely went on due to being busy. Lyney was the most romantic person you know and he always knew how to show you magic that you had never seen before that sent your heart aflame.
"My dearest rainbow rose, it pains me we cannot spend time together as romantically as we used to...when we are at work we are forced to keep is hidden..."
He holds your hands tightly and when he removes them a rainbow rose was in one hand and a box of expensive chocolates was in your other's you embrace each other.
"Uhhh, I hope we aren't interrupting anything...." Paimon suddenly speaks up scaring you both as you jolt away from each other pretending nothing happened.
"O-oh Traveller and Paimon!! What are you doing here?? I mean nice to see you again...." Lyney chuckles nervously as he hadn't intended for anyone to see him and you. You relationship was secret after all.
"Nice to see you too....but we should be asking what you are doing here embracing a woman!! And why do you look suspicious?!" Paimon laid all the questions on him, he let out a sigh giving up.
"Well, this woman here is Y/N, my personal assistant and also....my girlfriend. We have been keeping our relationship secret because it's a personal thing we don't want others to see."
"Hello Traveller and Paimon! It's lovely to meet you! Lyney has nothing but praises for you both!" you speak up smiling warmly.
"Hi there Y/N, nice to meet you too!! We are shocked you have a girlfriend Lyney considering how secretive you are...."
Lyney let out a heartly laugh intertwining his hand with yours.
"Well, I too would've said that 1 year ago but Y/N managed to steal a magicians heart, the hardest trick of all." Lyney looks at you lovingly as you look back at him lovingly too.
"Well, you guys are so wholesome and sweet, we are in support of your secret-"
"CLICK!!"
Everyones head snapped around to see Charlotte the Journalist taking pictures.
"CHARLOTTE NO!!" everyone shouted as The Traveller and Paimon sais their farewells and quickly caught her making sure she deleted those photos for good.
~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~
a/n: thank you once again for the amazing request and if anyone wants anymore of these or anything help lemme know and I'll try my best!! love you all 💜🌙💜🌙💜🌙
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aestas---estas · 1 month
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You're like the sun
MDNI 18+ | Part 2 | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | 2,3k words | fem!Reader, assistant!Reader, protective!Simon, intrusive thoughts briefly mentioned that are quickly squashed, drinking mentioned, reader is described as curvy (one mention), probable military inaccuracies | if I forgot a tag/tw please tell me, I'm new to this | divider by @cafekitsune
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You're like the sun. Simon hates the sun. Always too bright, too warm, beaming up at him with that celestial smile, and if he stares at you for too long your face imprints at the back of his eyelids; forcing him to bask in your light even when he turns his gaze away.
You bring him tea in the mornings — knocking confidently on his office door, waiting for his gruff grunt of acknowledgement before entering, too chipper, too bright. It's Earl Grey, a dash of milk, just to his taste, and he fucking hates that it's perfect. He questioned your motives the first time it happened, and with a melodic voice you told him you're bringing Captain Price his coffee and Simon's office was just on the way. Never faltering under his scrutinising gaze, only calling out a sweet goodbye before disappearing the way you came. It takes him weeks before he realises he never told you how he likes his tea, and by that point it's too late to ask.
One week you're out; sick, some stomach bug Price told him when he asked point blank about your absence on the second day. It's not that he misses you, of course not, he had just gotten used to the daily routine. He counted on you bringing him his morning tea like he counted on the sun to climb the horizon. So if he suppresses a smile underneath his mask when, after 5 days without your bright light, you grace the doorway to his office with a steaming mug and a wide smile, that would only be because he finally didn't have to make the beverage himself.
Before you, Simon would send his paperwork to Price via an unfortunate rookie that happened to pass by his door — threatening that even a glimpse inside the folder would be answered with violence. Too comfortable in his own space to venture outside and possibly subject himself to pointless small talk with soldiers he couldn't care less about. Now, he finds himself walking the hallway between his office and Price's, placing the files on your desk without a word. That's what you're there for, he tells himself. You're the assistant, it's your job to deliver whatever paperwork that was meant for the Captain. He doesn't scold or threaten the sun when it beams down at him from high up in the sky, so why would he utter a hateful word in your direction when you flash him that blinding smile and do your job?
It takes Price 4 months until he convinces you to join him and the boys for a night out at the pub. It's not that you feel unwelcome or unwanted per se, but you know you don't belong — not like the rest of them. You're the newcomer, have never been in a firefight, never had a scar be inflicted upon you from an enemy getting too close. You read and write reports, take phone calls, pass along messages and bring caffeinated beverages. But after a particularly shitty week, a drink with some coworkers didn't sound so bad anymore.
Stepping into the crowded pub, a pretty dress accentuating your curves, you drew Simon's attention right away. Like any personification of a celestial body would, you commanded the room. But the other mens’ obvious stares ranging from salacious to malicious did nothing to deter you, your focus was on the booth in the far corner where the team was all sat. A wave and the usual radiant smile of yours was all the greeting they got before you held up a finger and backtracked to the bar to order.
“Bonnie one, ain't she?” Johnny says, elbowing Simon in the ribs, eyes never leaving your form as you lean over the bar top to make your order heard over the music. Simon doesn't answer, but something ugly snakes across his chest, tightening around his heart. Of course Johnny had set his sights on you, and you would fall to his charm like every man and woman before you. It was a small miracle you hadn't already taken a tumble or two in the hay with the sweet-talking Scotsman.
Kyle scoots down the bench once you finally make your way over, a yellow and orange drink in hand. Despite your bad week your mood is as bright as the colours of your beverage, and Simon finds himself enraptured by your stories, your laugh. Even from across the table, the toe of your heels bumping against his rough boot with every shuffle of your legs, he can feel your warmth; it washes over him, makes the palms of his hands damp where they grip his beer glass tensely.
You fit in almost seamlessly with the squad. You talk in depth about some book with Price, you joke with Kyle, you flirt with Johnny. Had Simon been a better man, he would've offered you his seat so you could be closer to the Scottish Sergeant. But he's not a better man — he wants to be able to stare at you from across the booth, wants to observe your glow without distractions or interruptions. He's selfish, depraved, rude, a brute to put it simply.
So when Johnny offers to walk you home with a grin on his face, Simon fixes him with a steely glare and crosses his arms over his chest. “You're not fucking the secretary, MacTavish.”
Johnny sputters some half-assed defence, but eventually shrinks back down in his seat. You stumble as you get out of the booth, feet tripping over themselves, and Simon's arm snakes around your waist to steady you.
“‘M not a secretary,” you slur out, swaying slightly as he pushes open the door to the pub and leads you outside. The night air is crisp, cool, yet your body is warm where it rests heavily against Simon's side. “‘M a personal assistant.” You sound so proud over the title too that it almost makes him chuckle; almost. 
“You answer calls and deliver mail,” he replies, downplaying your role like the right bastard that he is.
You huff in annoyance and displeasure, obviously deterred by his dismissal. He can't be sure, but for a second he senses a glimpse of hurt in your eyes. Why would you care what he thinks of your position? Didn't you get along with Johnny all night? Or maybe you're mad that he cockblocked you. Yes, that must be it. You're not sad that he doesn't truly understand your value, you're not annoyed that he dismissed your pride, you're angry because he wouldn't let Johnny walk you home and tuck you in tight.
The two block walk to your apartment building from the pub is done in silence. Simon has his arm around you the whole way, making sure you don't stumble and fall flat on your face.
“Thank you,” you say as you lean against the door to your flat, fumbling with your purse to try and find the key. “For walking me here. You didn't have to.”
“No, I didn't,” he answers at length, because really, there was no reason for him to stay by your side the entire walk home. He could've called you a cab, he could've left you by the foyer instead of ushering you into the elevator and asking ‘what floor’, he could've stayed put inside the pub. He could've done a hundred and one things instead of making sure you got inside your flat safe and sound with his own two eyes.
A sound of victory expels from your lips as you fish your key out of the mess that is your purse and hold it up for him to see, a big, drunken grin on your face.
When you stumble into your hallway, Simon thinks he must've lost his mind — you didn't close the door. Didn't you know that was dangerous? Didn't you know he was?
“Careful,” he mutters out as you nearly tumble over and hit your head at the corner of a table when reaching down to unsnap the buckles of your shoes. The lock clicks in place behind him.
He takes care of you that night; argues with you to brush your teeth and remove any makeup you had put on, makes sure you drink at least two glasses of water and take a painkiller before ushering you off to bed. He sleeps on the couch and it occurs to him how horrifyingly simple it would be to snuff out your light. He could walk away, leave your door unlocked for any degenerate to enter, or he could be personal about it; press a pillow over your face as you sleep, hold your throat in his hands with enough force to snap, maybe even steal a kitchen knife from the wooden block so primly placed near the stove.
It's a terrifying thought, one he forces out of his mind as soon as it enters. The sun doesn't deserve to implode just because he sometimes finds its brightness debilitating, and neither do you.
Nothing changes after that night, yet everything does at the same time. You still bring Simon his tea every morning, now with an accompanying crumpet or biscuit, he still hand delivers his paperwork to your desk, but now he stays for a minute to chat. He makes a simple typo once, misspells his own rank at the beginning of the report, just to get a few extra moments of your warmth as you stop by his office to point it out — but not to worry, you have already fixed it, you reassure with a smile.
You bake cupcakes a few weeks later, two for each of them, decorated with a light pink frosting that matches the shade of your top so perfectly Simon suspects you must have done it on purpose. You make Price call everyone into his office for a quick celebration; it's your birthday, and Kyle and Johnny both offer to throw a proper party, but you shake your head and tell them you already have plans to celebrate that weekend. To Simon's surprise they both back off, neither of them making a big fuss about not being invited. He dreams of pale pink sunsets that night.
The incessant ringing of his phone wakes him up, pulling him from a fitful sleep in the middle of the night. Too tired for formalities, he simply grumbles out a ‘what?’ into the receiver, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Loud, drunken chatter, drowned out by the thumping bass of whatever club music that was playing in the background, met his ears for a few seconds before your voice broke through.
“Hey, baby.” Baby. The nickname feels like a cold shower, making all his synapses fire, his attention at high-alert.
“What's going on?” He asks, already pulling on his jeans and searching for his keys. You don't sound like yourself, something is off and it makes a ball of anxiety furl tight in his gut.
“Can you come pick me up?” You ask in lieu of a proper answer, rambling off the address of whatever club you had found yourself at.
He's outside the club within minutes, probably breaking a handful of traffic laws, but none of that matters as he spots you — arms wrapped tight around yourself, slightly shaking from the cold night air, some sleeze talking you up despite your closed-off body language.
“Oi!” He calls, drawing both your and the sleeze's attention.
“You serious?” The sleeze mutters, distaste clear on his face as he eyes Simon up and down.
“Simon!” You fling yourself in his arms, a wide smile pulling at your lips as you press yourself against his solid form. You're cold to the touch, goosebumps littering your bare arms, and he drapes his jacket over you before he even realises what he’s doing.
“This him then?” Sleeze asks. “The boyfriend?”
“Yup,” you answer, popping the p as you look back at him, still keeping yourself flush against Simon.
That explains the nickname then. You were trying to get rid of this jerk, and the only thing that works on people like him is telling them you're unavailable.
“Let's go, love,” Simon mumbles against the top of your head, just loud enough for the other man to hear. 
“Thank you,” you say once he's got you in the car, fingers nervously playing with the hem of the skirt of the dress you're wearing. It's another cute number that hugs you in all the right places, just like the one you wore that night in the pub. “I'm sorry I called. I'm… I'm sorry I said you were my boyfriend.”
“Don't worry ‘bout it,” Simon answers at length. He doesn't care that you had disturbed his sleep, he doesn't care that you had lied to a stranger about your relationship, he doesn't care that his jacket will undoubtedly smell like you once he gets it back — all he cares about is that you were safe, that despite the alcohol in your system you had enough wits about you to call him.
You kiss him on his cheek when he drops you off at your building, smiling softly before disappearing with a quick ‘see you on Monday.’ He doesn't realise until he's halfway back that he never asked for the jacket back.
It's nearing your one year anniversary as Price’s personal assistant. You make the team cupcakes again, vanilla frosting this time. Everything is just as it was day one, yet nothing is the same. Because now Simon walks you to your car at the end of every day, because now he follows you home after the pub whenever you accompany the team on one of their outings, because now he calls you ‘love’, because now you hold his hand and kiss his cheek, because now when he compares you to the sun it's because you're all encompassing, life giving, eternal. Without your warmth, your light, your love, his world would be cold and cruel and lonely. You're like the sun. Simon can't live without you.
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kedsandtubesocks · 4 months
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Satoru Gojo appears out of thin air before you, blocking your path. The smuggest most annoying grin dances on his face. You glare at him.
“Yo.” He beams.
“Don’t you have assignments to work on?” Huffing, you walking around him.
“Come on! Didn’t you miss our meetings like this?” Gojo pouts. You flat out reply no and he sobs dramatically.
“Didn’t you hear? I got married a few weeks ago.” Gojo says bright and excited, walking in step with you.
“Oh? Congratulations. I’m sorry for the poor soul that got stuck with you.” You deadpan.
“Rude!” He exclaims horrified. You dully glare at him.
“Oh wait? Are you perhaps jealous?” Twirling on his heels, Gojo keeps his covered gaze on you now. He practically walks backwards like the show off strongest sorcerer he is and smirks unbearably smug.
“I’m not.” You steadily reply. “I’m happy for you.”
“I’ll have to let my husband know.” You add. He gasps incredibly loud.
“Husband?! You have a husband?!” Gojo screams.
You shush him, a hissing reprimand. There were others still here at the school trying to work.
“So what’s he like, huh, huh?!” He inquires eagerly.
“Someone who can kick your ass.” You tell him simply approaching the assistants offices.
Gojo barks a bright incredulous laugh. “Really now? I’d like to see that fight.”
One of the newer assistants warmly greets you as you hand her your paperwork for the week. Thanking her, you ignore how Gojo practically swarms around you pestering for more information about your husband.
The assistant blinks a bit confused turning to you with a confused smile.
“Um, have a good rest of your day Gojo-san.” Nodding brief, she bids you goodbye.
You can’t even nod back before a lanky arm snakes around your shoulder, and in a blink you’re gone. When you arrive teleported to a high rooftop, you shriek smacking at Gojo’s arm.
“You can’t keep doing that! We have work to do, Satoru!”
“I still wanna hear about that husband of yours.” He says amused sliding his black blindfold up to reveal his crystal sky blue eyes that twinkle.
“Won’t have much to say because I’m actually thinking about divorcing him soon if he doesn’t stop bothering me!” You hiss.
“Aw!” Gojo sobs. “Why can’t you just let me enjoy newlywed bliss?!”
You’re about to open your mouth about how he very much already throughly enjoyed all the newlywed bliss, when suddenly his large warm hands slide up your cheeks. Satoru draws your face to his.
He kisses you with the most delicate tenderness, like you might flutter away from his grasp at any moment. You instantly melt into him. These soft kisses really are beautiful reminders of how your soul is so irreversibly bonded to this headache.
“Get back to work Satoru,” you sigh against his lips.
“Yeah, yeah.” He huffs drawing back with a pout. He’s too handsome for his own good. So maybe wanting one last goodbye for yourself, you pull him down for a deep kiss. Greedily, he drags you close.
“Let’s go mess around in my office.” Satoru mutters dark, and you laugh a bright no.
“Fine.” He groans defeated. In a blink, you’re teleported back in the walkway. Before he pulls his blindfold down, Satoru winks at you.
“See ya at home, Gojo-san.” With the biggest pride shimmering bright in his eyes, your husband grins disappearing into the wind.
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underdark-dreams · 7 months
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This fic will explore the fanon of Tiefling rut/heat cycles: specifically, what happens when a stressed, overworked, sexually pent-up wizard is confronted with his own biology and his feelings about a certain hero all at once?
Thank you @rolansrighthorn for kindly beta reading this chapter!
Rolan x afab!Tav
Birds and Bees - Ch.1
The new Master of Ramazith's Tower hasn't been feeling well. Rolan isn't quite sure what's wrong with himself, but when Tav arrives back in Baldur's Gate, things get much worse.
Tags: Tiefling Ruts, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 3.4k [Read on AO3]
Rolan awoke feeling sick as a dog. 
He pulled his legs over the edge of the mattress with a wince. The dull ache in his muscles was something he hadn't felt since those first weeks on the road out of Elturel.
He'd slept like hells the past few days; no doubt that was the cause. Once again, bizarre nightmares had left him gasping awake before dawn, covered in a clammy sheen of perspiration.
The dreams featuring Tav, however…
Rolan’s tail shuddered and flicked over the bedsheets behind him at the memory. He pushed those thoughts forcefully from his head. Tav was due back in Baldur’s Gate today—that was the last thing he should be thinking of when she arrived at Sorcerous Sundries.
She’d been away for over a week this time, gathering her materials in the Underdark. He wondered if that meant she'd have enough work to keep her in the city for longer, too. The thought encouraged him enough to rise and dress for the day. He should make sure her alchemy station was prepped and ready for her at the back of the shop, at least. 
Down on the main floor of Sorcerous Sundries, Rolan’s improved mood was instantly tested. Cal took in his face wide-eyed.
“You look awful.”
“And good morning to you,” Rolan responded irritably.
“Is it?” Cal trailed after him as he unlocked and threw open the wide front doors. “Rolan, maybe you need a day off. You look like you barely slept.”
“I'm fine,” Rolan said, voice firm. “Where’s Lia?”
Right as the words left him, a teacup appeared at his elbow.
“Had a feeling you might need it,” Lia told him. “Looks like I was right.”
Too tired to combat both his siblings at once this early in the day, Rolan accepted the tea with a begrudging sigh of thanks. The smell of bitter herbs hit his nose before he took the first sip.
“Doctoring me with folk remedies now?”
Lia waved a dismissive hand as she moved behind the counter. “Yeah, yeah, we all know you'd rather get fussed over by Tav. Can't have you dragging your tail and embarrassing us in front of her, though.”
Cal walked off with a snort.
Rolan shut his eyes and wished he could return straight back to bed. Instead, he drank his tea down in silence and said a prayer for an easy day of work.
He did find himself perking up after a while. It was difficult to stay sullen on such a glorious spring day; clear sunlight streamed generously through the high windows above, and the flow of customers milling into the shop settled into a pleasant, familiar hum. Rolan fell into the rhythm of assisting them here and there, locating scrolls and giving advice on spellwork.
It certainly wasn’t the prospect of seeing Tav again that was improving his mood so much. That’s what Rolan kept telling himself, at least.
Another breeze drifted in through the open atrium behind him, bringing with it the fresh scent of spring wildflowers. Rolan was taken with a sudden fancy to move closer to wherever it emanated from.
“Lovely morning, isn't it?”
Tav stood beaming at him from the doorway, despite the full-to-bursting pack slung over one of her shoulders. Clearly he wasn’t the only one affected by the irresistibly nice weather.
“It rather is,” Rolan agreed. Ignoring her usual protests, he unshouldered the bag from her with a tug; its weight made him question whether she’d stuffed it entirely with minerals.
“Ugh…thanks.” Tav stretched her arms back appreciatively. She was wearing a lightweight tunic, carelessly laced, and the motion strained the fabric over her chest. 
Rolan averted his gaze, feeling rather warm all of a sudden. He instead led Tav back to her workstation near the stairs.
“Looks busy in here,” she remarked with approval. “Business good?”
“Can’t complain. I take it your travels were as successful?” He punctuated the comment by landing her pack on the desk with a heavy thump. Tav laughed.
“Brilliant, actually. I've got a lot to show you, if you can spare the time.”
“Just give me a few minutes,” he answered, turning back to her.
Tav didn’t reply right away; she was frowning at his face. “Rolan, are you ill? You look flushed—” And she reached a hand as if to feel his forehead.
“Of course not,” Rolan answered, a bit too swiftly. Casting for an excuse to create some distance, he moved to the nearby reference shelves and began shoving the mess of books back into their correct cubbies. “Cal, could you grab another stack of the beginner’s Weave series? We’ve sold through.”
Cal looked up from his work rolling scroll pages. “Er, sure…which wing is that again?”
“Nevermind,” Rolan sighed. “I’ll get them myself. Let me know if your station’s missing any supplies,” he added to Tav, letting his voice soften a bit. It earned him a dimpling smile.
Rolan strode away from her toward the portal, feeling that annoying ache in his legs return as he did.
Tav watched Rolan’s figure trudge up the staircase with another twinge of concern. Then she set to work connecting all the equipment on her alchemy station. Lia appeared at her side before long, asking after her week’s travels in the Underdark and catching her up on news and gossip from the Gate. It was so nice to have friends like Lia; ones you could pick up right where you left off with.
Tav had emptied her bag onto her desk and begun sorting the small mountain of herbs into separate piles as she listened. “How’s Rolan been doing with everything, really?”
Lia was turning over one of her shards of laculite, idly catching the sunlight in its facets. “Mostly happy. And stressed, and overextended. And completely neurotic about organizing every shelf in the library. You know, typical wizard stuff.”
“I just hope he’s looking after himself,” she said down to her work. The words left her mouth easier than she wished.
Lia leaned a hip against her desk with arms crossed. “You sound interested in helping with that.”
The quake in Tav’s stomach made her feel very caught out, then very stupid. She let out an exhale of laughter instead.
“Rolan’s made it pretty clear that he is not,” she replied. Her fingers began stripping the blooms from her pile of dried mugwort with more force than strictly necessary.
“Between you and me,” Lia mused, “I don’t think Rolan’s anywhere near clear on that subject. Smart people can be real idiots, you know.”
“Who can?”
Rolan was headed from the staircase with an armful of books; he stood behind Lia with a suspicious look. Tav immediately wondered how much he’d heard.
“Rich people,” Lia answered at once, still leaning casually against Tav’s desk. “Lady Whitburn’s handmaid keeps coming in asking for spell scrolls that I’m pretty sure don’t exist. You think she’d get the picture by now.”
Rolan let out a long-suffering sigh and held out the stack of volumes to her. “Take these. And just send Cal to help her next time, that’s why she keeps coming back.”
Lia threw up a hand as if that only proved her point. “Like I said, idiots.” But with one last glance at Tav, she grabbed the books and ferried them away to the front of Sorcerous Sundries.
For her part, Tav resumed the work of preparing the week’s ingredients—there were several large batches of antidote to get through this morning. Rolan took up his usual spot at the desk in her periphery. 
Ever since the first week he’d offered Sorcerous Sundries to her as a home of operations for her alchemy, Tav found herself spending many hours at work beside Rolan like this. They spent the time talking about her travels, or his latest studies with the Weave, or just discussing the last books they’d read. On busier days, he was called away to help customers for most of her visit.
Today, however, Rolan stood unusually silent next to her.
“Sure you’re feeling all right?” She glanced at his back, again noting the tense line of his shoulders.
“Just a bit tired.” Rolan tipped open his massive record of the shop figures. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”
“I could make you something for that, if you like.”
He gave a low huff of laughter as he took up his quill. “From what I hear from my customers, I’d be out cold for days.”
“Really?” She couldn’t help a grin of professional pride, but focused on adjusting the flame under her distilling glass. “Glad they’re selling well.”
“I can barely keep them on the shelves, especially those remedial draughts you make. The last batch lasted three days.”
Though it was satisfying to hear, Tav felt a bit chagrined. “Damn…won’t have more of those for a while. I still need to track down a new materials trader in the Gate. My usual guy moved on to Neverwinter.”
There was a short pause in their little corner, filled only with the sounds of softly bubbling liquid against glass.
“You know,” Rolan said without turning, “you’re welcome to stay here, if it’s easier for you. The guest room’s always empty. That is, so you wouldn’t have to travel across the city on top of finding your new contact.”
“Oh—” Tav tried hard not to read anything into his offer. “Actually, I already left my things with Danis and Bex. But thank you, Rolan,” she added.
Rolan coughed lightly, back still turned. “Of course.” 
There was another pause, longer and strangely awkward. Tav suddenly found she needed something more to occupy her thoughts than watching a flask boil. Reaching down for her pack, she pulled her research journal up to the desk.
It had been many weeks since Rolan brought up that subject. Why now?
Cal and Lia constantly reminded her of the long-standing offer of a room in the Tower anytime she had need of it. For unspoken reasons, she’d always found polite ways of declining.
It wasn’t that Rolan had made her feel unwelcome in any way. After all, he’d opened up the expansive resources of Ramazith’s Tower to her use, lending her all of the delicate and expensive alchemy equipment that she’d never be able to cart back and forth in her travels. She owed much of her current success to his generosity.
But Rolan had proven himself a generous patron for all kinds of arcane arts as Master of Ramazith’s Tower. Really, what made her think she was any kind of special case?
The fact that she’d very much like to be that to him…well.
That was something Tav tried not to think about. It only led her to dangerous territory, such as staring at his hands while he worked a spell and wondering what else they might be good for. Hardly conducive to a friendly, professional relationship. 
And if she was any good at reading signals, friendly but professional was how Rolan wanted to keep things.
Tav shuffled through her notes a bit too briskly and almost scattered them. That was enough dwelling on that subject; clearly, Rolan had plenty to think about without worrying about unwanted advances in his own home. The least she could do to repay his generosity would be to continue respecting his boundaries.
“Noblestalk propagation?”
She glanced over her shoulder. To her surprise, Rolan had moved closer to peer down at the top page in her hands with curiosity.
“Most valuable thing in the Underdark,” she told him. “Even more than mithril. Actually, this is what I wanted to show you—”
Noblestalk fetched a high price for its alchemical power, certainly, but also for its rarity. The delicate mushrooms were notoriously picky about where they grew; it was part of what made them so hard to find. 
Truth be told, she’d been running a little experiment on them down in the Underdark over the past few months. She ran a finger across the charted results as she explained them to Rolan, whose tension seemed to vanish as he listened on with keen interest.
“Obviously the spores took faster in high humidity. But look, they actually did better when I transplanted them in a really cold spot near the river here—which is so odd, most fungi need a bit of warmth—
“Have you tried recreating these artificially? Carrying a sample back to the surface?”
“Not yet.” She scratched her chin in thought. “I’d need to find somewhere underground to propagate it. And I’d rather not spend any more time in the sewers, after that little cult business.”
“Just do it here,” Rolan dismissed, as if it was the plainly obvious solution. “We’ve got quite a few empty vaults now. Shouldn’t be too hard to repurpose one as a greenhouse of sorts.”
As she turned her head to respond, she was caught up short. 
Rolan was still peering intently at her writing. But in his concentration, he’d angled his body very close beside her. His chest nearly brushed her shoulder. She could’ve counted the freckles dusting his nose.
When he reached forward to flip over the page, she felt his other hand actually rest on the far side of her waist—the absent way you might touch someone very familiar to you when moving past them. Heat rose in her cheeks at the gesture.
Perhaps Rolan felt her tense. He blinked, and she watched realization dart over his features. He stepped back at once.
“Apologies.” Then he cleared his throat to add—“Your work is quite engaging.”
Coming from him, the words sounded much nicer than they had a right to. She felt her flush deepening, and quickly turned back to reorder her notes. 
“Thanks,” she laughed, praying it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt rising in her throat.
Behind her back, she heard Rolan return to his desk on her left. Presumably continuing his work on the Sundries inventory; more likely trying to ignore her obvious fluster. 
She clenched her jaw in an attempt to shove that same stupid, fluttery feeling out of her stomach, and returned to the practical work at hand. 
Rolan stared down at last week’s sales in his ledger. The figures were a blur of meaningless scribbles in front of his eyes.
Was he feverish? Seriously ill? There had to be a sound explanation for the way he’d just…laid hands on her like that, unthinking. 
He clenched the guilty right hand responsible, feeling its sharp nails press crescent moons into his palm. Idiot. He took a deep breath to regain his composure. 
It only caused that lovely wildflower scent from before to fill his lungs more completely, pulling at his other senses. Perhaps it was emanating from one of the many strange ingredients Tav was always carrying back from the Underdark. Was that what had muddled his mind this way?
He found himself glancing back over his shoulder to where she was bent over her alchemy scales. The pink tip of her tongue was visible between her teeth, a gesture she often made when concentrating.
As Rolan watched, a lock of her hair slipped forward over her shoulder. She swept it absently back behind her ear. The innocuous motion caused another wave of something floral to brush past his face, stronger this time.
“Are you wearing scent?”
Tav glanced up from the powder she was weighing out, brows raised in question. “What?”
“Nothing,” Rolan said swiftly, shaking himself back to rights a bit. He felt very lucky she seemed to have misheard. He turned back to his work before he could say anything else strange or embarrassing.
With effort, Rolan forced his attention back to the comforting logic of sums and figures. 
The time passed with blessed uneventfulness after that. The soft sounds of glassware and bubbling liquids from Tav’s alchemy faded to an idle lull at the back of Rolan’s consciousness. Nevertheless, he pushed through the past month’s numbers with more difficulty than usual, scratching through multiple errors as his quill moved over the page. He occasionally had to pause to rub at an uncomfortable crick building in his neck.
A laugh came from behind him. “Do you mind?”
Rolan raised his head to look. Tav was gesturing at the corner of her alchemy station with a bemused expression. 
To his own confusion, he found that his tail had traveled there of its own accord sometime in the past minutes. It lay coiled on the wood, its tip flicking back and forth in her direction, as if seeking her attention.
With another chuckle, Tav’s fingers closed around it and lightly dropped the appendage off the edge of her desk.
An involuntary sound caught in Rolan’s throat. The moment her hand connected with his skin, a shock of blood rushed to his groin. He nearly tipped forward in alarm at the feeling.
The rapid redirection left his legs wobbling and bloodless. His knees almost buckled under him; he gripped sharp claws into the edge of his wooden desk to steady himself. 
As the ringing in his ears cleared, he heard Tav reading under her breath behind him while she ground something against her mortar. Praise the gods that whatever just happened to his body had escaped her notice.
“Need a book from the library—”
Without a backward glance, Rolan stumbled toward the stairs.
Spurred on by the knowledge that any customers who might notice his urgent departure would certainly see the reason for it, he strode on double-time for the portal. Only once the swirl of Weave closed behind him, depositing him in the quiet of the Tower, did he release the breath caught up in his lungs.
Seeking to ground himself, Rolan glanced up to watch the golden dust motes drift through a beam of sunlight. It was the strangest sensation to be standing completely still and feel a sweat break out over his brow.
How did he not realize days ago? Muscle aches—difficulty sleeping—heightened senses. All clear indicators that his biology had finally caught up with him, albeit a solid year later than it should have.
Rolan gripped a hand to the back of his head with a groan of realization. Not perfume—it had been Tav herself he kept catching scent of this morning. That sweet smell that practically made his mouth water to recall now was nothing but raw instinct laid bare.
Well, he had no right to complain about the timing. Apparently many frantic months of escaping the Hells, surviving on the road, and battling back an invasion from the Astral Plane had done a lot to delay the inevitable. 
But inevitable it was, and as of today, very much inescapable. There was never really a convenient time for this sort of thing, was there?
It could be worse—as the new keeper of Ramazith’s Tower, at least he found himself with private quarters to retreat to for the entirety of it. If he was lucky, it would all be over in a week, and then he could go on ignoring this unfortunate side effect of his Infernal heritage for a few more uneventful years. 
Lia and Cal could manage the shop for a week without any major calamities, surely?
As Rolan paced the silk carpets of the Tower floor, he forced his feverish mind to finish scrabbling together the plan. His gaze fell on the desk by the window. In the next second, he was putting shaking quill to parchment. Something simple, just enough they’d understand—
Bad week for visitors. Please mind the Sundries while I recover. Tell Tav 
The tip of his quill skipped as he paused, letting a droplet of ink bleed into the page. 
Tell Tav what, exactly? That he was in his room rutting his brains out like an animal in heat? Likely thinking of her while he did?
That line of thought brought a series of unhelpful and very stimulating images to mind. He swallowed down a humiliating sound as the stiffness between his legs grew painfully hard in reaction. Merciful, bloody hells.
Tell Tav nothing, he finished in a scrawl. Rolan folded the note and deposited it on the floor just in front of the portal, where it would be impossible for his siblings to miss. 
Then he turned for the staircase to his bedroom, already mad to rip these chafing gods-damned robes off his skin.
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mrchiipchrome · 25 days
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Bunny
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W.C. - 1.4 k
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“Hi baby.” Alessia’s beaming smile covers the entirety of her face, seeing you walking over to her with the tray of food that you’d just gotten. Being back was nice, good food and even better company.
“You alright bunny?” Sitting down between her and Lotte, you quickly make sure everything is alright before you can start eating, bless your anxious heart.
“Mhm, even better with you here with me, finally.” She rolls her eyes playfully, squealing when you grab ahold of her, pulling her body closer to yours and pressing one too many kisses to the side of her face. Fingers dig into her side and she starts giggling involuntarily, her laughter spreading joy all around the room.
“Knock it off won’t ya?” A disgruntled Katie McCabe calls out, a frown situated on her face as she sulks in her seat, longing for her own girlfriend who was in Australia. Sending a smirk her way, you leave another kiss to Alessia’s cheek before pecking her lips quickly, hearing Kyra fake gag.
“In front of my salad?!” She asks incredulously, like your mere presence is disturbing her entire being. Steph slaps her across the back of the head, rolling her eyes like a mother that’s just been pushed over the edge. Kyra’s left rubbing the spot, definitely more than a little dramatic.
“Oh so you totally don’t want me to do this.” Leaning in towards your girlfriend’s face again, you bring her into a deep kiss, not distasteful so no tongue, but still enough for the older players in the room to shake their heads in humorous disappointment and the younger players to cheer on.
Alessia’s cheeks are painted a dark pink as you pull away and just continue on eating like the past 5 minutes hadn’t happened. Pinching your thigh, Alessia just completely disregards the look you send her, continuing on with her lunch like normal.
She doesn’t miss the adoring smile on your face though, only mirroring it on her own face.
—-------------------------------
“BUNNY, JE SUIS LA.” It wasn’t common for you to be pressing high up the pitch, considering that you were a defender, but for now you happened to be in a perfect position, just waiting for Alessia to cross the ball to you. The defender glued to your side looks at you weirdly, the foreign language leaving your lips and reaching your girlfriend’s ears, her eyes meeting yours. 
Within a second, a perfect pass is released towards you and you volley it into the goal, immediately running to Alessia and picking her up, spinning her around while thanking her for the service. 
Soon enough you’re receiving pats on the head and the back for the great goal, the crowd dispersing almost as quickly as it gathered leaving you to do a quick celebration of your own. Holding up two fingers on one hand and three on the other, once again dedicating one of your rare goals to your favorite girl.
The rest of the game is played with reasonable confidence, being up 3-0 due to your girlfriend’s excellence.With two goals and an assist, there was no doubt in her winning the man of the match award, with you standing off to the side as she got the little trophy like the proudest girlfriend ever. 
Getting tired of waiting to feel her touch, you swing by where she’s being interviewed, fingers gripping around her waist tightly enough so that she’d feel it beneath the layers upon layers of clothes.
“Oh, I see we have a guest.” The interviewer said as you beamed at your girlfriend, not particularly wanting to wait to praise her for her performance.
Pressing a quick kiss to her cheek and whispering what’s supposed to be a quiet ‘I love you Bunny’, you laugh giddily before taking your hands off her, almost screaming the next sentence.
“That’s my awesome girlfriend, suckers.” You were so proud and you wanted to tell everyone, Alessia laughed into the mic, a giddy smile covering her face during the remainder of the interview.
She manages to maneuver her way out of it after a little while, joining you in walking around the rapidly emptying stadium. She slots her body under your arm, looking up at you with such admiration that you almost melt.
“Comme je t’aimes Bunny.” (How I love you) You say, pulling her infinitely closer to your body. Telling by the way she just kind of melted into your body, she liked it when you spoke in your native language. Not that it was a secret.
Walking towards the tunnel, you press a kiss to the top of her head, giving the fans still hanging around the stadium something to clip and post on social media.
—------------------------------
“Baby I miss you so much.” Alessia whines down the phone, Ella looking at her weirdly. Before you, there was no whiny Less, nor any Less that would go out of her way to contact people outside of family during camp.
“I miss you too Bunny, I wish you were here with me, my bed is too lonely without you here to keep me company.” You tell her slowly, raising your eyebrows suggestively. A pink tint covers her cheeks once more, like it always does when you’re flirting with her, and a sheepish smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.
Suddenly another face pops into frame, an almost disgruntled look covering Ella’s face. She’s not very happy, you think to yourself, poor Less who’s going to have to deal with a grumpy Ella Toone. 
“If you want to have phone sex please be mindful of people who don’t want to hear any of that.” Now you’re turning a deep shade of red, mixing in with the red sheets of the hotel and almost camouflaging.
You both stutter and try to explain yourselves as Ella looks on in poorly hidden amusement, that still goes unnoticed in your flustered states.
“Relax you two, I’m just kidding with ya.” As Alessia slaps Ella’s shoulder, you hide your face in your hands, laughing quietly so as to not disturb your sleeping roommate, looking back at your screen to see them bickering between themselves. 
“Bunny, coach is going to murder me if I don’t go to sleep soon, Selma and I have already gotten more than a few noise complaints. Bye Ella, good night my love.” Sending Alessia an air kiss, you soon end the facetime call only to notice that Selma had been awake for quite a bit and was now teasing you, making kissy faces and doing all the dramatic gestures.
Rolling your eyes at her, you laugh at her before turning around in your bed and focusing on falling asleep, a certain blonde running through your mind.
—-------------------------------
“Hi Bunny.” Entering the common room, the entire team is scattered around, some playing games and some just speaking with each other, barely anyone noticing you coming into the room and pressing a kiss to Alessia’s hair. 
You don’t go unnoticed for long though as Katie asks you the one thing that’s been on her mind since both you and Alessia transferred over from Man U. 
“Y/n what’s up with this bunny thing, that’s not even close to her name.” A few heads snap your way, some more invested than others and there’s not reason to lie, especially since it wouldn’t be you who’d be embarrassed.
“Well, I’m french like you all know, so when me and Less started dating and having sleepovers, just before we went to sleep I would say ‘bonne nuit’ to her, and I guess that her sleepy brain would just interpret that as me calling her bunny. So one night she comes up to me and says ‘I love you, but why do you keep calling me bunny right before we sleep, it’s weird.’ to which I had to explain what I was actually saying.” There were a few awws heard around the room and Alessia hid her face in your neck, not letting them see the easy blush once again spreading across her cheeks.
“So, what did ya do during ya french lessons Lessi?” Katie is the one that asks once more, just looking at you two curiously, not minding the way Kyra was practically hanging off the ceiling beams nor how Caitlin was poking her in the arm, just focused on Alessia’s answer.
“Wasn’t listening to a thing they said.”
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seat-safety-switch · 20 days
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When I became a junior detective, I got assigned to work with Detective Math. Bob Math is a legend in the department: he uses arithmetic and problem solving to crack unusually number-specific cases. He's got a nemesis, of course, all the cool detectives back then did. Al Gebra kidnapped his wife once, tried to ransom her for a plane to Mexico. Math didn't stand for it: after figuring out the complex polynomial sequence that revealed the address of the shitty dockside warehouse he was renting, he subtracted a couple of Al's digits using a cleaver.
Thing is, he was all a fraud. One night, while we were riding from one case to another in his beat-to-shit Dodge Rampage, he told me that he never actually graduated high school. Back then you could get away with it, most of the detectives in his generation got there because they had read a book on detective skills by accident while their partner tortured an informant. He didn't know shit about math, in other words. One of the staff sergeants saw him (poorly) doing a Sudoku one day and decided he must be good at math, fast-tracked his detective exam, he was afraid to say no, so now he's "the detective who's good at arithmetic." Math wasn't even his name, either: he took his wife's name in the divorce to keep the scam going.
All this is prologue to the thing that really mattered: our big case. It seemed normal at first, a political corruption thing. "Sorry it's not a numbers racket! Haw!" shouted the chief as he handed out the assignments. Even so, there were still a lot of numbers.
It seemed like the Mayor Himself's Assistant Herself had been helping Herself to some dirty money from various car dealerships in exchange for a favourable ruling from the land zoning department. One of the spoiled rich kids that owned a Chevrolet dealership didn't get what he wanted out of the deal, and blew the whistle. Two days later, he was found dead in a truck stop bathroom, beat to death by a calculus textbook. Math's involved? Get me Bob Math, they no doubt thought. Detective Math was used to it, and he went about the usual pantomime in his role: carrying around an old Texas Instruments calculator with no batteries in it, interrupting meetings in the precinct to measure parts of the room with old bits of string, the whole schtick. Then we went down to City Hall to get a confession.
You guessed it: it was the mayor's assistant's teenage daughter, Becky-Sue, who did in Ted Chevrolet. She was the work-experience hire, selling Topkicks out of the back to her mom's friends, and finally had enough of him skimming her commission. Bob Math sighed as he realized that yet another murder case of his had involved percentage points of a dollar. He would have to put on his fake professor glasses to explain it to the media.
Even so, the press conference went great. The assembled reportage beamed with pride as they hung on every bullshit word of our imaginary arithmetic hero. Something didn't add up, though. I didn't notice that that cameraman in the back, who was missing a couple fingers, until it was too late.
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lilacmingi · 21 days
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TOWARDS THE LIGHT
My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. And please don’t spam-like!
Pairing: Sith!Seonghwa x Jedi!fem reader
Word count: 16,450
Note: So I didn’t think I’d ever write anything longer than Hongjoong’s D&D AU “A Quest For Love” but here we are lol so strap in because this is a big one
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The sizzling sound of clashing lightsabers filled the air in the training room, blue and green beams of light swinging around and colliding with one another with a resounding spark.
Seonghwa's saber was swung towards you, which you blocked, pushing back with your own weapon and successfully deflecting his attack. He let out a huff, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth at the challenge. He always liked battling with you, though you bested him most of the time, he took it as a chance to improve.
The blue beam of light Seonghwa wielded was spun around in a showy manner as he lunged forward, raising the saber. Your eyes stayed trained on him as he approached with an aggressive attack, holding out your green lightsaber in preparation before swinging it at his and successfully knocking it from his hand.
Seonghwa grunted in mild agitation as he landed on the ground, having lost his footing when he landed. His arm shot out and brought the weapon back to his hand by using the Force. He was always good at that.
Getting to his feet, he wasted no time coming at you again, this time with a determined gleam in his eye. His burst of energy took you by surprise and you found yourself scrambling to do something before his blazing beam of light came swinging at you. With only a few seconds to react, your lightsaber came up to halt his attack, the beams making a sizzling sound when touching.
The weapons were pulled away from one another before clashing once more, and again, and again. Each time, neither of you were able to strike the other.
This was a familiar scene. Being in this gray training room with walls made of metal. You and Seonghwa had spent almost your whole lives training to be Jedi. You were Luke's only apprentices. You were the best of friends—inseparable some might say.
After continuing to block attacks, you saw a moment of opportunity and leapt into the air, attempting to use the Force to assist you in going high enough to jump right over Seonghwa. You just barely missed his head as you moved through the air, landing on the ground with a soft huff. Now standing just behind Seonghwa, you held the tip of your lightsaber to the back of his head, making him freeze.
"I win."
"Not bad." He commented with a chuckle, raising his hands in surrender before turning to face you. "That Force jump was a little rusty though."
"I thought I'd try something new." You shrugged, deactivating your weapon.
"You could still use some practice." He remarked, doing the same with his saber.
"I'm impressed." A voice full of wisdom spoke from one end of the training room.
You and Seonghwa turned your heads towards the utterance, finding Luke standing in the doorway with a fond expression on his face. He had been watching.
"Y/n, that's the first time I've seen you successfully execute a Force jump. You need a little more practice, but I think you'll have it down in no time."
"Thank you, Master Luke." You bowed at his praises, always honored to receive them from such a well-known Jedi.
"Seonghwa, you have this fire in your eyes when engaged in a fight. You've got determination, but your attacks were a little aggressive. When in battle it's good to be strong and vigorous, but you also need to be fluid and focused. Sometimes hostility isn't the best course of action."
Seonghwa nodded, taking in the information he was being given. He wanted to be a good Jedi, as good as Master Luke, and he would do anything to work towards that goal.
"I'll try and tone it down." He nodded, showing that he understood the critiques he was given.
"Good." Luke smoothed out his gray robes, giving the both of you a once over before speaking again. "You two had better go eat. I'm sure you're exhausted from training. You kids have been in here for hours."
With that, he exited the training room.
Glancing over at your battle partner, you could see his round coffee-colored eyes shine with interest at the mention of food—Seonghwa was always a big eater.
"Let's go." You linked arms with him, tugging him out of the room and into the corridor of the ship you often trained in.
Hurrying down the loading ramp of the spacecraft that was parked amongst the lush greenery, you and Seonghwa hastened across the base past other Resistance members, heading directly for the canteen which was really just a large tent set up for people to eat in.
Seonghwa pushed past the beige canvas flaps and entered the area where a handful of people were eating. His eyes locked on the bar situated at the back of the tent where a droid was busying itself by stacking clean bowls. Plopping down on two of the six vacant barstools, you and Seonghwa rested your elbows on the countertop, the droid rolling over to take your orders. A wooden board with a small selection of dishes carved into it hung from a structural beam above the bar. Seonghwa's index finger hovered in the air as he read over the items as if he hadn't done so the last thousand times you two had been in there. While he decided what he wanted, you waved the droid over and ordered a vitajuice and a warm stew, hoping for something filling after a strenuous practice battle.
"Me too." Seonghwa piped up before the droid rolled away, settling on getting the same as you.
"Copycat."
He snorted-slash-scoffed in response to your playful name-calling. "It sounded good when you ordered it. Also, a vitajuice is what I need right now after all that practice." As if to emphasize his words, he stretched out his back and jerked his head a bit, cracking his neck in the process.
"Sure." You responded with an eye roll.
The low murmur of patrons in the mess tent and the distant sound of clanking dishes in the back floated through the air, filling the comfortable silence between you and Seonghwa as you waited for your meals.
The bar droid rolled out from the kitchen area with two glasses clutched in each of its pincers, placing them in front of you and Seonghwa. After thanking the droid, it got back to work behind the counter stacking dishes, picking up right where it left off.
Taking the straw between your index finger and thumb, you took a sip of the refreshing juice, sighing in satisfaction as the cool liquid coated your mouth.
"Ahh. That hits the spot." You hummed.
"Sure does." Seonghwa agreed, sipping so hard on the straw that his cheeks sucked in.
You cackled in response to the ridiculous sight next to you.
"Easy there, bud. It's not going anywhere." You managed to speak through laughter, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
He pulled away with a drawn-out exhale, the drink having obviously refreshed him.
"I could've chugged the whole thing if I really wanted to."
"I don't doubt it."
Seonghwa's large eyes grew in size when a droid from the kitchen rounded the corner with two bowls of piping hot stew a few minutes later, his hungry gaze following the dishes until they were set down before you. Spoons were given to each of you and you wasted no time getting a sizable spoonful of the stew, Seonghwa following suit. Hums made in unison reverberated in both your throats when you took your first bites, the meal warming you from the inside.
"Is it just me or does food taste better after you've been practicing?" You asked.
"It definitely tastes better." Seonghwa nodded in agreement.
After a filling and satisfactory meal, you took a stroll around camp while your food settled. People bustled about, carrying equipment and crates across the way, some taking them into a nearby cave which doubled as a makeshift hangar for one of the many spaceships.
There was a nice breeze jostling the baby hairs that framed your face and fluttering the leaves of nearby trees. The gray fabric of your pants brushed against the tall grass that covered every inch of the area and beyond. Ajan Kloss, the jungle moon where the Resistance base resided, was where you and Seonghwa had been living your whole lives. You were both moved here as kids, probably no older than ten, by your resistance member parents and when your shared force-sensitivity was discovered by Luke, he started training you. It's all either of you had ever known. There were only fleeting glimpses of your old home planet.
A year later, you found yourself sitting on the Millennium Falcon with Seonghwa, seated on the curved bench of the holographic game table in the lounge area watching him play a round of dejarik with Chewbacca. The ship, piloted by Luke and his closest companion, Han Solo, was headed straight to the planet of Ilum to find kyber crystals for yours and Seonghwa's very own lightsabers. It was tradition for younglings to build their lightsaber before moving up to padawan status, but Luke was different. He had his own ways of training that contrasted from how it used to be before the Great Jedi Purge took place and wiped out almost all the Jedi. Thus why you and Seonghwa were just now getting lightsabers. To say you were excited was an understatement.
Chewbacca raised his furry arms up in victory, having beat Seonghwa in yet another round of dejarik.
"Man." Sighed your friend as he leaned back against the bench with a small smirk tugging up at the corner of his mouth.
"Don't feel bad." You gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder. "Chewie has been playing this game for years. He's a dejarik pro. It's nearly impossible to beat him."
"One day." Seonghwa pointed at the undefeated Wookie who waved off his promise dismissively.
"Hey, kids." Han's approaching voice, followed by the man himself, grabbed your attention. "We're on autopilot right now, but we should be to Ilum soon." He then turned to Chewie. "I hope you're going easy on him." He nodded towards Seonghwa.
The Wookie shook his head before throwing his head back to laugh heartily. Han gave a small chuckle and a head shake of his own before leaning to rest against the nearest wall.
"So, lightsabers." He began.
"Yeah." You nodded with a grin. "I'm really excited. This is a special day."
"Very special." Seonghwa agreed. "It's the most significant day for us as padawans."
"Oh, yes." Han nodded. "I know all about it." He paused to look at the both of you. "Y'know, Luke is really proud of you both. I'm sure he's told you that in some way or another, but I figured I'd say something anyway."
You and Seonghwa shared a gentle look with one another, touched by Han's words.
"Alright, well," He cleared his throat and pushed off the wall he was leaned against, heading out of the room. "gotta get back to the cockpit. Chewie, try to let Seonghwa win a round, will ya?"
A year after you and Seonghwa crafted your lightsabers, Master Luke passed away. It was sudden and almost decisive, like Luke knew it was his time to go and so he went to be one with the Force. Things changed after that.
Your training came to a temporary halt and you were left without a Jedi Master. For a week you didn't leave your sleeping quarters. Meals were brought to you via Leia. Chewie even stopped by once. He was good company and his hugs were always healing in a way. You heard Seonghwa was about the same, staying cooped up in his room just like you.
After that first week, you tried to return to normal and Seonghwa started spending time in the training room swinging his lightsaber and screaming until his lungs burned. You only knew that because you saw him once when passing by. That was the only time you saw him, as he stayed locked in his room majority of the time, isolating himself.
A week and four days after Luke's passing, Seonghwa disappeared. You two were both so wrapped up in mourning that you kept to yourselves. Once your mind had cleared enough, you wanted to check on your friend and see how he was holding up. When the door to his sleeping quarters slid open, you were alarmed to find it completely bare. His bed was made and every piece of furniture was cleared off.
The color drained from your face and every part of your body went cold, your heart plummeting to your feet.
"No." You murmured, spinning around and rushing down the corridors of the ship, stopping at the training room only to find it empty.
Stumbling through the halls, you called out Seonghwa's name, the desperation and panic becoming more apparent in your tone.
"Y/n. What's wrong?"
Whirling around on your heel, you spotted Leia standing at the entrance hall of the spaceship.
"Seonghwa's gone." The words left your lips shakily, fading out weakly at the end. "His room is bare. Cleaned out."
Leia hurried over to take you in her arms just as your knees buckled. With Luke's passing still fresh, Seonghwa disappearing suddenly was like rubbing salt in a wound that hadn't even begun to heal.
"It's alright." Leia cooed, placing a gentle hand on the back of your head. "He could've needed some time alone... away from here."
"Why would he just leave without saying anything?"
"It's possible he's dealing with lots of emotions right now. Maybe he was overwhelmed."
The next words you uttered were muffled due to your face being buried in Leia's shoulder. "Do you think he'll come back?"
"He will. Just give him time."
You sat inside your sleeping quarters of a ship parked at the Resistance base, staring fondly at the lightsaber in your hands. Your fingertips glided reverently over the silvery metal of the hilt, admiring the intricate designs that were etched into them—a personal touch. Though you'd possessed the saber for three years, you still admired it.
"Y/n?"
At the sound of your name being called, you lifted your gaze to find General Leia standing in the doorway of your room.
"Come in."
She entered, a solemn expression etched on her aged yet elegant face as she moved to take a seat beside you on the bed.
"You look concerned." Shifting to face Leia, your brows pulled together. "What's wrong?"
"They're after us again."
"They? The First Order?"
She nodded. "They already destroyed our last base and now they're trying to find this one."
"What do we do? Do we move?"
Leia shook her head. "No. We're not giving up. Besides, they haven't found us yet."
"Then, why'd you come to me?"
She pressed her lips together and stood up, smoothing out her attire. "Let's walk."
You stood up immediately and followed her down the corridor of the ship and off the loading ramp.
Although you tried to be patient, you were itching to know why Leia had come to you with this urgent information. However, instead of forcing her to speak, you waited for her to do it on her own accord.
Your gaze moved to the ships parked about the area as you approached, your fingers fiddling anxiously with the hem of your gray tunic. Whatever it was she needed to say, it wasn't good.
"We need you, Y/n." She finally spoke. "You were trained by my brother and then by me for the last three years."
You blinked incredulously, wondering where she was going with this.
"We don't know what the First Order knows about our location or if they even know it at all. So I need you to sneak onto their ship and plant a listening device."
"You need me to do... what?"
"If we could listen in on what they're talking about, we could collect intel, find out what they know, and use it to our advantage."
"Leia I..." You trailed off, reeling from this being dropped on you so suddenly. "I'm sorry. I have to decline. I-I'm not ready."
"You are. You've been ready."
"There has to be someone else."
She came to a stop, turning to face you fully, her expression serious. "There isn't. You're our only hope."
You shook your head. "What if—"
"No." She stopped you. "No what if's. Y/n, if I didn't think you were capable, I wouldn't be sending you on this mission."
You hardly even ventured off Ajan Kloss. How were you expected to carry out this mission?
"I just..." Your mind was a swirling supercell storm of emotions.
There were so many things to consider, like your lack of expertise in other areas besides battle and having no experience in real missions.
"I can't fly a spaceship, let alone sneak into enemy territory with one. How would I even manage to get by their sensors? They'd pick me up in their airspace right away."
"I can do it." Poe piped up as he happened to be passing by. "I've got a First Order ship in the cave over there." He jerked a thumb somewhere behind him towards a cluster of rocks.
"How did you even get one of those?"
He shrugged in response. "Connections."
Just then, Finn passed by, giving you both a friendly smile and a small wave, oblivious to your conversation. You nodded knowingly in immediate understanding.
"Ah. I see."
"So, will you do it?" Leia asked you, bringing the focus back to the issue at hand.
Taking in a deep breath, you let the possible outcomes flicker in your mind like a slideshow. This could all go terribly wrong—or perhaps it could go incredibly well. Leia believed in you and being the only Jedi on the base, you felt obligated to help, not that you could ever say no anyway.
"Yes."
Walking down the familiar corridors of the ship you called home, you tried to process the fact that you'd be going on your first mission very soon. It was a heavy weight to bear and an even bigger responsibility. Lost in thought, you passed by a room that carried bitter emotions, your footsteps coming to a stop beside it without really thinking. Pressing a button, the door slid open and your eyes landed on the space that was untouched for three years.
Seonghwa's room.
Passing the threshold, you stepped inside and glanced around, your fingers caressing the comforter.
"I sure wish you were here right now." You sighed, speaking aloud to the memories of Seonghwa that remained stagnant in the space. "Could really use your help on this one."
A lump formed in your throat and you swallowed it down, blinking back tears that started to prick your eyes. At first you were sad and confused about Seonghwa leaving all of a sudden—you still were. Then you got angry, feeling like he walked out on you. Now you were just numb.
"This should've been our mission, not mine."
Dropping down to sit on the edge of his bed, you let out another heavy sigh. Your fingers traced absentmindedly over the sleek nightstand, trailing across the handle of a drawer. Without thinking, you tugged on it, something jostling inside as you did so.
With furrowed brows, you peered into the drawer, your eyes slowly widening when you spotted Seonghwa's lightsaber lying inside. With a shaky hand, you reached in and took hold of the hilt, retrieving it from where it sat for three long years.
He left his lightsaber.
This only raised more questions. Did he just give up? Decide he didn't want to be a Jedi anymore since Luke passed?
An image of Seonghwa living on some run-down planet, isolated and alone, flashed in your mind and you hated it.
Shaking away those thoughts, you stood up, your friend's lightsaber in hand, and left. Seonghwa's abandoned weapon was placed on a shelf in your room for safe keeping in case he returned one day.
The following evening, you gathered in the meeting hall with other Resistance members where a plan was made for how you'd infiltrate the First Order's ship and where to plant listening devices. A layout of the enemy ship was projected into the air showing all the different areas.
"A meeting room would be ideal. As would the main control room of the ship. That is where talks between the generals and captains take place." C-3PO spoke in his posh robotic voice while R2-D2 beeped in response. "You could collect lots of intel there."
You nodded, taking it all in, determined to do your absolute best on this mission.
Staring down the entry point on the First Order ship, you clenched your hands at your sides, anxiety plaguing every inch of your body.
"You got this." Poe's voice came from the cockpit of the ship. "I'll be waiting here for you when you're done. You can communicate through your earpiece and I'll be keeping an eye on you through the tracking device inside of it."
"What if I mess up?"
"You won't. I'll tell you where to go."
"What if I get captured?"
"Then we're coming for you."
With that reassurance, you gave a nod and hopped off the spacecraft and into the hangar, sticking close to the wall. You came equipped with three listening devices to plant and your lightsaber which was strapped to your waist in its holster. Your vigilant eyes stayed trained on the stormtroopers marching about the hangar as you slinked along, sneaking behind large First Order spacecrafts parked about the area and using them for coverage until you got to the doors that led to the inside of the ship.
Letting out a shaky exhale, you waited for an opportunity to slip inside when no one was looking. Your hands trembled as you felt the slightest bit of relief that one hurdle had been conquered. Now it was time for the real mission—planting listening devices and not getting caught.
"Poe? I'm in." You whispered.
"Good. You're doing well." He responded through your earpiece. "Go straight and then take a left."
Taking in a deep breath, you proceeded down the empty and darkened corridor of the ship, peering around the corner before taking a turn. There was no time to waste, so you kept moving while waiting for more instructions.
"There you go. Keep going. The meeting room is on your right. Put a listening device under the table in there if the coast is clear."
"Is this it?" You asked once you arrived at a large set of dark gray doors.
"Yes."
Pressing your ear against the cool metal, you listened for voices on the other side, receiving silence in response. Your trembling finger pressed the button to open the doors, a breath of relief leaving your dry lips when you were greeted with the sight of an empty room. Digging out a listening device, you stuck it under the edge of the table, poking your head out to check the halls before swiftly moving out.
"I got it."
"Alright. Proceed down the hall."
Your feet moved quickly, your boots making little noise in the process.
With Poe's direction, you were able to successfully place the second device without issue.
As you fled the area, the sound of stormtroopers talking made you freeze up. Being on a First Order ship, the structure of it was unique with protruding pillars that made for the perfect hiding spot. That, paired with the dim lighting was ideal for your situation, making it easy for you to slip through the shadowy areas. As the voices got closer, you darted to hide yourself behind one of the blocky pillars that jutted out from the wall, pressing yourself against the chilly metal and hoping you wouldn't get caught. The beating of your racing heart thudding in your ears almost completely masked the footfalls of the stormtroopers, your hand hovering over your lightsaber as you watched the two pass by. Your eyes stayed locked on them, following the white-armored figures who didn't notice your presence.
The hand that lingered over your weapon dropped back to your side once the threat was gone and you were on your way.
One more listening device to place.
The intense anxiety you felt before the mission began was not nearly as bad as it was. Having been roaming the corridors of the spaceship for the last ten minutes or so, you managed to get used to the task you were carrying out. That being said, there was still the anxiety of everything going wrong, however, you tried to keep your hopes up.
"Y/n? You still there?"
"Yeah." You let out an exhale. "Stormtroopers passed by. I was hiding."
"Good call. Your last destination is the control room. That'll be difficult because it'll be full of ship staff I'm sure."
Poe could hear your sigh through the earpiece.
"Hey, you got this." He encouraged.
"I know."
"You don't sound very confident."
"I'm not." You murmured, peering around a corner before rounding it. "But I'm gonna pretend to be."
"There you go. Fake it 'til you make it."
A mix between a scoff and a chuckle left you.
"Control room is up the way. Keep an eye out though, there might be some unsavory individuals in there."
That made your heart jump with dread. Unsavory individuals?
"Like who?"
"Ones in higher ranks, like generals."
"I see."
You proceeded down the corridor, pressing yourself behind another metal pillar to hide from more approaching stormtroopers. As soon as they passed, you got back to the mission.
"The doorway should be directly ahead of you." Poe informed.
"I see it."
A few feet in front of you was an open doorway, multiple uniformed people sitting in front of large control panels. Holding your breath, you drew closer to the doorway, daring to peer inside. Standing at the forefront of the room in front of a massive window and more controls was a man in a black uniform, probably a general, discussing something with another crew member.
"Just stick the tracker in a corner or something. Don't stay too long." Poe's voice spoke into your ear.
With the last listening device in hand, you scanned your surroundings and took a step into the control room, spotting one of those structural pillars. The little device was placed into the junction between the wall and the column, unable to be spotted unless someone was really looking for it.
Back on the ship, Poe watched the red dot on his little handheld tracker screen as it moved along the halls of the First Order ship.
"You got it?" He asked.
"Yeah."
"Nice work." He grinned. "I knew you could do it. Now get back here and let's split."
"Copy that."
His eyes stayed locked on the red dot traversing the map as he gave you directions. Every few feet, you'd stop, assumably to hide from passerby in the ship, before resuming.
"Almost there." He said.
You were approaching the hangar, only one turn down the hall and you'd be home free.
The dot stopped moving.
A gasp sounded from your end and Poe's heart sank.
"Y/n?"
"Well, well, well. What's this?" A male voice spoke, sounding close to you.
More panicked noises came through, getting quieter before Poe heard a distant "No!" from you before the feed got staticky, a crunch, and then silence.
"Y/n?" The panic in the pilot's voice rose. "Are you there? Do you copy?"
Nothing.
Poe looked out the windshield of the First Order ship he used to sneak in, peering down at the stormtroopers lingering about. Some of them had their hands held to the side of their helmets before turning to look directly at the spacecraft Poe was occupying.
"Blast!" He hissed through his teeth.
Not only had he lost contact with you, but it seems whoever caught you had notified everyone on board. He had no choice but to hightail it out of there, lest he get captured as well.
"Sorry, Y/n." He murmured, sitting upright in his seat and starting up the ship. "New plan."
The stormtroopers below started shooting at the spacecraft as it lifted off the floor, the hangar door beginning to close. Poe pushed the handles on the control panel forward and the ship plowed down the troopers close by.
"C'mon. C'mon." He spoke through clenched teeth, directing the spacecraft towards the exit, picking up speed.
The gap was slowly closing and it seemed Poe wasn't gonna make it. He winced as the top of the ship scraped against the closing hangar door, not doubt denting and scratching the exterior, as it slipped out into the open space.
A sigh of relief left the pilot as he made his escape, silently vowing to come back with a whole team of Resistance fighters to bring you home just as he promised.
You'd been listening to instructions from Poe, coming to a stop to peer around the corner when he told you to take a turn. That's when someone grabbed you from behind, making you gasp. You couldn't see who it was as you struggled in their grip.
"Y/n?" Poe asked.
"Well, well, well. What's this?" A male voice spoke, a gloved hand moving into your peripherals as your earpiece was pulled out and dropped to the floor.
"No!" You exclaimed.
You could barely hear Poe's panicked voice from the device as it fell, clattering to the metal flooring, your captor swiftly crushing it under his chunky black boot.
You writhed in his hold, somehow managing to slip out, stumbling forward and reaching for your lightsaber which you withdrew from its holster and activated it, the green beam humming as it extended from the hilt.
Your enemy, who donned an all-black outfit and a hood that concealed his face, activated his own saber, a blazing red beam lengthening at his side.
With hardly any time to react, you held your lightsaber up, blocking an aggressive attack from the Sith in front of you. Any anxiety you felt was numbed by your survival instincts and the desire to make it back home—if that was even an option anymore. For all you knew, Poe could've abandoned the mission for the sake of safety.
Clenching your teeth, you pushed back against the red beam with all the power you could muster, getting the Sith away just long enough to scramble backwards down the corridor. It didn't take long before he was back on you again, swinging left and right while you blocked and dodged his attempted attacks. Your back hit a door and your free hand felt for a button, pressing it. A hissing sound came from the hatch as the doors slid open and you staggered backwards inside. The area had electrical panels on the wall and was more spacious than the ship's corridor, giving you more room to fight and move around.
The Sith strode into the room with you and swiped at your side, which you barely evaded. In turn, you let out a grunt and swung your weapon at his chest, which he leaned back and avoided with ease.
Straightening his posture, he brandished his lightsaber in preparation, his boots thumping heavily against the floors as he approached. A shout left the hooded man as he swung at you, the saber making a resounding voosh as the blade was forced through the air.
Your eyes widened as his saber collided with yours harshly, the force behind the action making you stumble back slightly, your arms trembling as you tried to push back against it.
You weren't prepared for this.
All that training and you weren't prepared.
With a jerk of his lightsaber, The Sith knocked your weapon right out of your hand, causing it to deactivate and skid across the room.
The cloaked figure held his weapon above his head, spinning while thrusting the blade in your direction, the force of the showy action causing his hood to fly off just as you fell to the ground trying to back away.
"Ugh!" A grunt was forced out of your body as you collided with the floor, your eyes staring down the humming red beam pointed directly at your throat.
Your chest moved up and down rapidly with each shallow breath, looking up at your attacker with wide, horrified eyes as you realized his hood had flown off. Every limb in your body went cold, the blood draining from your face in an instant.
"Seonghwa?"
His hair was longer, reaching just above his shoulders, some of the long strands stuck to his forehead from the intense fight. His eyes, which you remembered being round and full of warmth, were now sharp and cold as ice. Your best friend had fallen victim to the Dark Side.
His eyes widened for just a millisecond at the sound of his name before narrowing, his gaze hardened and full of contempt as if just seeing you brought back unwanted memories.
"What did they do to you?" Your voice came out in a faint whisper of shock and horror.
"They didn't do anything to me."
His tone was harsh and calloused, no sign of the once upbeat and soft-spoken Seonghwa you knew three years ago.
The severity of the situation hit you and you began scrambling back away from the deadly red beam of light in your face, your arm reaching out to bring your own saber back to you. It slowly started rolling towards you only for Seonghwa to stretch an open hand out towards it, intercepting it and throwing the weapon across the room by an invisible force.
"You may have been a better fighter, but you always were a horrible user of the Force." He spat.
The doors to the room hissed and two stormtroopers walked in.
"Take her away." Seonghwa ordered sternly watching you with an unchanging and stoic expression as you were roughly tugged to your feet and dragged out of the room. "Detention cell 1117." He specified.
There were so many things you wanted to say, yet nothing came from your lips. All you could do was stare at Seonghwa with an expression full of confusion and hurt as you were hauled out of the room.
The cell you were placed in was nothing like you expected; it was clean and equipped with a small, but cushioned cot. The stormtroopers shoved you into the room, slamming the door shut, giving you one glance through the gated window before marching away.
You dropped down onto the cot, your trembling knees no longer able to support you, letting you collapse.
Seonghwa.
He didn't run away, he became a Sith. All these years worrying and wondering where he was, if he was okay, asking yourself why he left... and he was here.
How did this happen?
It was the question that kept spinning in your mind, echoing repeatedly.
How did this happen?
There was no way Seonghwa, your best friend, the man you secretly liked, had turned to the Dark Side. It didn't make sense. He never showed any desire to cross over, not that you could recall, anyway.
The dull ache in your heart grew in intensity the longer you thought about what your best friend had turned into.
The heavy thump of approaching footsteps made you lift your head, your eyes locking with those of the man you once knew. The door to your cell swung open and he stepped inside, his presence alone shifting the air in the room.
No words were exchanged at first. All you could do was stare at him, taking in the angry lines etched on his otherwise flawless face. His intense eyes stared you down, the scowl on his face not budging. This new version of Seonghwa was jarring to say the least, but he was still someone you used to know.
"So this is where you ran off to." You murmured.
He didn't speak, staring you down in silence. His lack of response was both perplexing and agitating. Did he have nothing to say?
You scoffed, shaking your head as a spark of anger ignited. "I can't believe you." Your expression was full of emotion, rage fueled by sadness and betrayal. It felt like you'd been punched directly in the heart.
Seeing Seonghwa again wasn't the joyous reunion you imagined it would be—it was much worse. Instead of embracing him in a tearful hug, you had been blocking his aggressive attacks and trying to make it out of the battle unscathed.
As Seonghwa stood just inside the cell, the emotions you felt rapidly turned into fiery anger that unfortunately reared it's ugly head.
"You got weak." You spoke through gritted teeth, your fists clenching.
In a fit of sudden rage, you stood up from the cot and charged at Seonghwa with a shout.
Your breath hitched when you felt a pressure around your throat, your wide eyes staring at the man you called your best friend with a gloved hand outstretched and fingers partially curled. A strained noise left your dry mouth as you clawed at your throat futilely, desperate to get rid of the invisible force that constricted your windpipe.
"You're the weak one." Seonghwa spoke, his voice low and threatening as his extended arm lifted higher, his gaze boring holes into you.
"Pl-please." You choked out, your legs kicking as your feet left the floor, black spots dotting your vision.
His hand squeezed more, curling in just another inch or so and applying more crushing pressure to your windpipe.
"Hwa." You whimpered, your voice nothing but a hoarse and whispered plea.
"Don't call me that." He hissed through clenched teeth. "That name died when Luke did. It's Mars now."
That's the last thing you heard before the black creeping in your peripherals took over.
"Do you ever feel like you have a weight to carry?" You asked Seonghwa, gazing up at the star-dotted galaxy above, seated in a cross-legged position on top of the Millennium Falcon. "Like a burden?"
"A burden?" Seonghwa echoed. "You mean like with glorious purpose?"
You sat there for a moment before shaking your head. "No. That's not it. That's someone else." You paused, reconsidering. "Though maybe it is glorious purpose in a way." You murmured mostly to yourself. "Being Luke's only two apprentices is a huge honor, especially since there aren't many Jedi being trained anymore, but do you ever feel you're expected to be this outstanding prodigy? Like you have all these expectations to live up to?"
Seonghwa hummed thoughtfully. "No. I see it more as a goal to reach."
"But do you think it's attainable? Don't you ever worry you won't be good enough?"
"Of course I worry. Everyone does, but I don't think Luke would've chosen us if he didn't think we were capable." Seonghwa turned to you, his hand sliding over to take hold of yours and give it a squeeze. His touch was warm and brought comfort to you almost immediately, chasing away your worries. "Let's switch to a brighter subject, like lightsabers."
You raised your brows, shooting Seonghwa an unimpressed look at his pun.
"That was completely unintentional."
"Whatever you say." You teased.
"Back on the subject, when do you think Luke will let us build our lightsabers?"
"When he thinks we've earned it, I guess."
"I hope it's soon."
You nodded in agreement, turning back to the stars above, your gaze drifting to look at the distant planets surrounding Ajan Kloss.
"You know, one day we're going to be real Jedi." Seonghwa's voice broke you from your daze.
"I know. Despite the lingering worries, I'm looking forward to the day when our training is complete."
"Can you imagine? The two of us going on missions together, tag-teaming the First Order, taking down the Sith." He held his hands out in front of him, holding an imaginary lightsaber as he mimicked its noises, swinging it left and right.
His little performance made you giggle, his laid back and silly personality always bringing a smile to your face.
"Then maybe I'd do one of these." He held his hand out towards the ground below, a small rock lifting from the grass as it was flung off into the night by an invisible force.
You chuckled amusedly. "Always trying to show off those abilities, huh?"
"No." He grinned softly. "But if you and I are ever in battle and someone gets too close to you, I won't hesitate to Force choke them."
His comment jarred you a bit and you shook your head. "We don't do that."
"I know... but I'd do anything to protect you."
A small noise left the back of your throat when your eyes cracked open, your mind fuzzy as you slowly came to. Your eyelids fluttered, blurred by tears which you blinked away, eyes adjusting to the dim holding cell you'd been tossed into earlier. Bringing a hand up, you wiped the small amount of wetness away from your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbow, wincing when you felt a soreness in your neck. Your hand moved down to your throat, gingerly touching the tender skin, hissing softly at the sensation that followed.
You swallowed back tears that threatened to well up, realizing just how much Seonghwa had changed. He physically hurt you.
Not once did it occur to you that Seonghwa had crossed over to the Dark Side. There wasn't an ounce of evil in him, so it was never a possibility. You just assumed he had given up being a Jedi and went off to another planet to live a life away from the Resistance. Luke's passing hurt both of you and you wouldn't have blamed Seonghwa if he refused to be taught by anyone else.
But that's not what happened.
The Dark Side got to him... or someone.
Seonghwa's eyes watched his superior intently as he paced about the control room, his cape billowing dramatically behind him.
"Why was she here?" The maroon-haired Sith hissed angrily. "How did a Jedi sneak in here?"
"The troopers told me she arrived with someone else on a First Order ship." Seonghwa responded, his hands resting behind his back.
"They have one of our ships?" He spoke through gritted teeth, jaw tightening.
"It appears so."
"Go talk to her. Ask her what she was doing here. Do whatever it takes to get the information if she refuses to talk."
"We have people for that." Seonghwa mentioned, feeling his gut twist uncomfortably at the thought of facing you again.
"I want you to interrogate her. Do you have a problem with that, Mars?"
"No."
"Then do as I say. Interrogate her."
"Yes, Hongjoong."
You sat upright when the door to your cell groaned open, your eyes landing on Seonghwa. Your body moved on its own, scooting back on the cot to put more distance between you both. Perhaps you subconsciously feared him a little now after what he did to you.
He noticed the way you cowered a bit, but his expression remained the same, unchanging and giving away no indications of how it made him feel.
"Why are you here?" He inquired firmly, his voice carrying authority.
His question was met with complete silence. This agitated him, his jaw ticking with annoyance. "Answer me."
"I won't." The words were uttered quietly.
"Why are you here?" He asked again.
You shook your head. "I won't tell you."
Seonghwa lifted his hand and you flinched, waiting for the pressure on your throat. Instead, he lowered his arm, dropping it at his side.
"I know the Resistance sent you." He almost spat the name out in distaste. "Why?"
"You know I'm not gonna tell you."
He let out a small growl, his top lip twitching.
"You're in no position to withhold information from me."
That sparked a bit of annoyance, your almost cowardly behavior changing as you sat up straighter on the cot. "Oh yeah? What about how you withheld information from me?"
Seonghwa's brow twitched at your harsh and sharply-spoken words.
"You didn't think to tell me you were considering running away?"
"Why would I have told you?" His eyes narrowed. "It wasn't your business."
"Because I'm your friend... or at least I was. If something was bothering you, you should've told me."
"Friend?" He scoffed. "You were teacher's pet."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Don't play dumb. You were Luke's favorite. He always praised your fighting style and nitpicked mine, said I was too showy and aggressive. Well, I found a place that accepted my fighting style—accepted me."
"Luke accepted you, Seonghwa."
"Don't call me that."
"It's your name."
"Not anymore."
There was a long and heavy silence that followed and it almost felt like, in that time, you were mourning the loss of a friend.
"She what?" General Leia stared wide eyed at Poe who'd just relayed to her that you had been captured.
"They got her."
Leia sighed, lowering her head.
"She planted all the devices though." He added. "So we can listen in and see what they're up to."
She nodded. "We need to start getting a rescue team together for Y/n as soon as possible. Until we're able to bring her back, we see what information we can get from the devices she planted. Pull up the audio." She gestured towards Han Solo, who stood beside her.
He messed with the control panel in front of him, pressing buttons until voices came through.
"What do you mean she won't talk?" An angry male voice questioned.
"She won't tell me why she's here." A second male voice spoke, this one deeper than the first. "She refused."
Leia's brows twitched as she and Han shared a look, both of them finding the voice familiar.
"I told you do whatever it takes to get her to talk." The first male continued, sounding more vexed than a few moments prior.
"I—"
"Does this Jedi girl mean something to you, Mars? Are you going soft?"
"No." The response was firm and clipped.
Han reached up to rub at his scruff contemplatively, his mouth downturned in a deep frown. "I know that voice."
Leia turned to him in silent question. She also recognized the voice but couldn't quite place it.
Han sighed, dropping his hand. "It's Seonghwa."
Three days passed, or what you assumed was days. It was hard to tell. Seonghwa continuously came back to question you, sometimes multiple times a day. You refused every time, not daring to give away any information. He often became irate at your refusal and stubbornness, but he never harmed you again.
Seonghwa stood on the opposite side of your small cell, arms crossed and thick brows tugged together, that same scowl on his face.
"You were sent here by the Resistance. Why?"
"You're the one giving them information on our base, aren't you?" You responded to his question with one of your own.
Being locked away, you had time to think. And now that you knew Seonghwa was a Sith and the First Order was working on finding the Resistance base, it only made sense that your old pal was helping and possibly feeding them information.
"No." He denied firmly, his reaction almost coming across as offended that you'd assume such a thing.
"What do you mean no?"
"I haven't told them anything." He hissed through gritted teeth.
That made you pause, whatever response you had prepared died in your throat the second that sentence left his mouth.
"Why?" Was the only word uttered.
"I'm asking the questions here. Why were you sent here? Did Leia send you?"
Your expression hardened, but Seonghwa saw right through it.
He scoffed. "I knew it."
A sharp puff of air expelled from your nostrils as you mentally cursed yourself for not denying it right away. Though there's no telling if he would've believed you or not, especially if he claimed to already know.
"Why did she send you? Why were you lurking the halls?"
"I won't tell you. I'm loyal to the Resistance and I won't do anything to put them in danger."
"Of course you won't." Scoffed Seonghwa again, your answer not surprising. "How loyal of you." His words were laced with venom and mockery as he spat them out.
It made an uncomfortable knot form in your stomach, wondering what lies they fed your friend to make him so full of loathing.
Every interrogation ended with Seonghwa storming out of your cell in a fit of rage, reporting back to Hongjoong with no new information and receiving a harsh verbal assault in return. It was a repetitive pattern and one the former Jedi was growing tired of.
"It's been a week." Hongjoong hissed out, pacing the control room. "And you still have no information for me."
"She refuses to speak."
"Perhaps she needs someone more forceful."
"No!" Seonghwa took a step towards Hongjoong to block him as he attempted to exit the room. He then cleared his throat before repeating in a more stern and confident manner, "No. I have it under control."
"If you had it under control you would've tortured her until she spilled. Then I wouldn't be waiting for intel. I'll interrogate her."
Seonghwa side stepped again. "I said I have it under control." He doubled down on his words.
Hongjoong's expression hardened, his intense gaze searching Seonghwa's face for what felt like an eternity before speaking.
"Three days. If you haven't given me any useful information by then, I'm stepping in."
"Yes, Hongjoong."
The following day, Seonghwa was back in your cell, staring at you with the same stony expression. "When will you give up?"
"Never."
"Tch." He scoffed at your never-ending defiance.
"Why do you keep grilling me?"
"Because you're the prisoner here and my superior wants to know why you were sneaking around the ship like a little womp rat."
Your features twitched in mild agitation at his slightly stinging words. "How do you feel knowing your buddies are trying to track down the location of our home?"
Seonghwa scowled and crossed his arms. "It's not our home."
"It is. You still have a place there, Seonghwa."
"Quit calling me that." He hissed out through gritted teeth.
The room grew quiet and you were left to sit in complete silence for a few moments until you spoke up again with another query.
"You know where the Resistance base is. Why haven't you told them?" You asked, knowing that if he relayed that information to his superiors, the First Order would've already attacked Ajan Kloss by now.
Seonghwa stiffened almost imperceptibly and you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't focused on his body language.
"That's not my business."
"Oh but it is. It's your former home, as you claim, so wether you're willing to accept it or not, you have ties to it. If you despise the Jedi so much why haven't you exposed us?" You questioned pointedly. "Why haven't you given away our whereabouts and watched our planet get destroyed?"
It was clear he was growing indignant, his sharp brows tugging closer together, forming eleven lines between them—a sign he was provoked by your words.
"I'll be back to question you again tomorrow. You'd better be ready to give me what I want or it won't end well for you, Y/n." There was an undertone of foreboding in his words as he turned on the heel of his boot and exited the cell, his black cape billowing behind him.
He paused just outside the room, his dark eyes turning to stare at you through the gated window for a moment before he walked away.
Seonghwa paced around his room, tugging frustratingly at his hair while having an internal battle with himself. Why? Why hadn't he told Hongjoong or anyone on the ship about the Resistance base when he'd been actively watching them follow leads and attempting to track down the group? He knows the location. Not only that, but he's had multiple opportunities to divulge that he knows who you are, yet he's kept his mouth shut. He could've easily said something, so why hadn't he?
His ambivalence on the matter was making his head ache. On one hand, he had grown to loathe the Resistance with every fiber of his being and would do anything to destroy them, but on the other... no.
Seonghwa shook his head, gripping at his hair out of agitation while dropping down to sit on the edge of his bed.
"Don't be weak." He gritted out.
There is no "on the other hand". He despised the Resistance. He didn't care about anyone there.
A ghostly giggle echoed in his mind, your giggle, one he remembered from the past. Along with it came a flash of you sitting across from him with a bright smile on your face, then a fleeting image of Master Luke.
Seonghwa gave an angry shout, standing up and withdrawing his lightsaber, activating the red beam that hummed when extended fully. His shoulders heaved up and down with each labored breath while his eyes scanned the empty bedroom.
His weapon lowered. No one was there. What was he trying to fight? His past?
The lightsaber was deactivated and Seonghwa slowly sat back down on his bed, the mattress sinking under his weight. His grip on the hilt of his saber tightened as his mind wandered back to you. He had to get information out of you or Hongjoong would step in and he didn't want that.
As soon as the revelation passed his conscious mind, Seonghwa froze. Why did he care wether or not Hongjoong interrogated you? He shook his head as if to push away any notions that he still cared for you. He didn't—did he?
"Why did you have to show up, huh?" Seonghwa asked pointedly the next day while trying to interrogate you once again. It was the first question he asked when he entered your prison cell.
"I'm sorry?"
"You've just made everything more complicated!" He spat, letting his emotions run rampant.
Perplexed, baffled, caught off guard—any one of those words or phrases could've described how you felt in that moment. What did he mean?
"I was doing just fine without you." He added, the harshness in his tone unwavering.
You recoiled at his words, murmuring, "I don't understand."
"Of course you wouldn't."
"What are you talking about?"
"This is your fault!" He pointed an accusatory finger at you.
Your wide eyes locked on the tip of his index finger that was directed at you.
"What's my fault? Seonghwa, I—"
He let out a raging shout that reverberated on the metal walls. "There you go again! Just stop!" He dropped his head, gripping handfuls of inky hair, letting out strained sounds through his teeth. His inner turmoil was showing through his aggressive responses and bouts of fury.
"Talk to me." Your gentle words reached Seonghwa's ears, striking him directly in the chest.
Instead of being snippy with your words, you toned it down, especially after witnessing his display of stress. It didn't matter if he was a Sith. That fact didn't erase any of the memories you shared together and you still thought of him as a friend—or at the very least, a friend that could be redeemed.
The kindness in your voice touched Seonghwa, but at the same time it was making things worse for him, leaving him torn between two opposing emotions.
"I left that life behind." He said, his head still buried in his hands. "Seeing you just... stirred things up."
Ever so slowly, you got up off the cot and took a few tentative steps towards him. He didn't realize you were approaching, too caught up in his own emotions. It was only when he felt your hand gently touch his shoulder that he flinched, raising his head.
"Why'd you leave? What happened?" You asked.
"I was upset." He sighed. "I tried to get my anger out by blowing off steam in the training room but that wasn't enough. So I stole a junky ship and took it out to a nearby planet just to get away from everything for a bit." His eyes showed just how much he was struggling as he spoke.
"Go on." You urged him. "I know you might not think so, but you're still my friend."
His eyes met yours, a flicker of warmth growing in his chest and giving him that little push to continue. "I was walking through a little town trying to clear my head when Hongjoong approached me."
"Who's Hongjoong?"
"My superior." He ran a hand through his long messy hair. "He knew right away that I was a Jedi. He took me into a nearby tavern and bought me a drink. We talked. I told him about Master Luke and how it was frustrating sometimes because I felt as if I wasn't enough. He was so... sympathetic. He made me feel important and told me he would be a better teacher than Luke and that I had untapped potential—that I had purpose Luke didn't see."
"He got to you while you were vulnerable." You stated, shaking your head. "He got into your head, Seonghwa."
"No." His brows creased, eyes narrowing as he responded in a stern manner, jerking away from your hand on his shoulder. "He didn't. When he took me in I was able to fight the way I wanted. I got stronger when Hongjoong trained me."
You shook your head. "He manipulated you."
"He didn't." Seonghwa denied firmly. "Because of him, I realized my purpose."
Your expression fell into one of pity and sorrow as you shook your head, realizing just how badly this Hongjoong guy had warped your old friend's way of thinking.
"I shouldn't expect you to understand." Seonghwa remarked bitterly. "You're a narrow-minded Jedi."
His words hurt, punching you directly in the chest. You really thought you were getting somewhere with him.
"This was a mistake." He grumbled, turning to leave. He let himself get too vulnerable.
"Seong—" The cell door slammed shut, making you wince. "...hwa."
Heaving a sigh, you slumped back against the wall in defeat. You almost caught a glimpse of the old Seonghwa. He was opening up, but he still believed Hongjoong was the good guy in this situation. The hold he had on Seonghwa was too strong and you needed to break it.
The Sith's footsteps were heavy, each thump from his boots echoing down the corridor while a violent storm of thoughts swirled around his head. You were so sweet and genuine, it almost reminded him of how things used to be. And that gentle touch of your hand on his shoulder sparked something.
You're getting weak. He could practically hear Hongjoong. Are you really going to let her get to you with all that mushy stuff?
"No."
Seems that way.
Seonghwa's jaw tightened as if this were all happening in real life.
"I said no."
You're still in love with her, Mars.
"I'm not."
He passed by a couple stormtroopers standing guard on that particular cell block, their heads following the Sith as he passed, muttering to himself.
"What are you looking at?" He snarled at the staring pair, his hand raising as a threat to use his Force abilities on them.
"Nothing." They shook their heads frantically.
"Thought so." He spat, continuing down the corridor.
That night was a sleepless one for Seonghwa. He tossed and turned for what was probably hours, unable to even doze off. Tossing back his black sheets, he swung his legs off the bed, letting out a forceful sigh. You really messed with his head... and his heart. He could still feel the way you laid your hand so gingerly upon his shoulder.
He got to his feet and shuffled over to a wooden chest at the foot of his bed, opening the lid and reaching inside, producing your lightsaber from it. After he had you taken away, he picked up the saber and had been keeping it in his bedroom, unable to hand it over to the seized weapons department for some reason. He gazed down almost wistfully at the silver hilt adorned with unique engravings. His thumb absentmindedly traced over the patterns engrained into the metal while his mind wandered back to a memory that had long been locked away.
"Place the energy core near the kyber crystal." Luke instructed, watching you and Seonghwa.
The components of your lightsabers were scattered along the work table as each of you focused on building your respective weapons, listening to each step you were given.
"Next is the focusing ring. Make sure it's calibrated just right or—"
"Or the kyber crysal will crack." You and Seonghwa finished in unison, chuckling in amusement at the situation.
"Yes, or your sabers could explode when you activate them." Luke added.
The pieces were put into place and you moved on to the next step, adding each component until the assembly was complete. Next came the cosmetic aspects of the process, the step that would give your lightsabers their unique appearances.
The both of you were taught how to customize your weapons with Luke by your side to assist when needed. This ritual of sorts meant a lot to you and Seonghwa, as it was a rite of passage, a symbol that you had grown as Jedi.
"I hope my lightsaber is blue." Seonghwa murmured once the assembly was complete, always having favored that color.
"There's only one way to find out." You placed your thumb on the power button of your saber and counted down before activating your respective weapons.
Just as Seonghwa had hoped, a blue beam extended from his hilt and his eyes went wide with excitement. He then turned to look at your humming blade that glowed a unique purple.
"Not many people have that color." He gaped.
Your round eyes stared at the stunning beam in awe, unable to believe that the weapon you wielded was yours.
Seonghwa felt the same, gaping at his own lightsaber, feeling it's weight and ogling at the shiny chrome silver metal of the hilt.
"I'm glad I got to do this with you." You turned and smiled fondly at Seonghwa, your eyes glimmering with unadulterated joy.
He returned that warm grin. "Me too."
A single tear dropped onto the handle of your lightsaber, stirring Seonghwa from his nostalgic daze. He blinked away some of the moisture in his eyes before wiping them, not realizing he had started crying.
He still cared for you.
He still loved you.
Today. Seonghwa had to get answers today or Hongjoong would step in and take matters into his own hands. He decided last night when he couldn't sleep that he didn't want that to happen and he would do whatever it took to get the necessary information out of you.
"How many days has it been?" You asked when you heard the door groan open, your back facing it.
"Ten." Seonghwa responded, standing just inside the room as he'd been doing since day one. "I'm asking again, why were you on the ship? Why were you sent here?"
You rolled over, your expression weary. "So we're back to this?"
Seonghwa didn't answer, his expression showing hardly any emotion. He was there with a task to complete.
"Tell me." He wasn't demanding or hateful, but there was a tinge of urgency in his tone.
You sat up, pushing back your hair with a sigh. "Can we just drop this for a second?"
He appeared unsure, but let out a reluctant exhale and moved across the small space to sit beside you on the bed. It was the first time he'd done so since you were locked away.
"I missed you, y'know." You didn't care if he believed you or not. You had to let him know.
His gaze lifted to meet yours, his eyes becoming round just like your memories recalled.
"It hurt me when you disappeared. I had just lost Master Luke and then I lost you not long after. It crushed me." Your voice was thick with emotion as you spoke. "I always wondered where you were. I worried about you. I lost sleep over you. I never once thought you'd turn to the Dark Side."
"Neither did I, but I fit well here."
"No you don't. That Hongjoong guy got to you while you were vulnerable and took advantage of your weak state. He got in your head and made you feel special. He doesn't care about you like he says he does."
"And how would you know?"
"Because he's a Sith and they're known for being conniving and manipulative."
Seonghwa became quiet, not fully believing your words about Hongjoong being disingenuous, but feeling as if he shouldn't carelessly disregard them either. Despite that, a sense of urgency to defend his superior rose up within him. "Hongjoong was there for me and picked me up when I was at my lowest."
"I could have done that. I would have done that if you hadn't left."
Seonghwa's jaw tightened as an uncomfortable ache became present in his chest. Perhaps guilt?
"I loved you, Seonghwa."
Those next words were a punch directly to the gut, the breath feeling like it was knocked out of him. You loved him? For how long?
He swallowed thickly, his breathing shaky. "Why did Leia send you here? To collect information? To spy?" Again, his tone wasn't demanding, but it was stern.
It hurt not having him respond to your admission, but instead of letting it get to you, you pushed aside your feelings and looked him in the eye. "I won't betray the Resistance. You can keep me here as long as you see fit, but I won't say a word."
It was obvious you didn't realize the magnitude of the situation, but Seonghwa remained somewhat calm, hoping a more gentle approach would coax it out of you.
"You don't trust me anymore?"
"No." Your response was swift. "I don't. You're the enemy now."
"But you said you still saw me as a friend."
"There's exceptions to that statement."
He was getting nowhere with you yet again. However, you did open up about how you felt when he ran away so perhaps there was hope.
"Fine." He stood up and left without another word, hoping to get more time to interrogate.
Hongjoong was discussing something with one of the navigators on the ship when Seonghwa approached. "Ah, Mars." He strode towards his apprentice. "I hope you have good news for me."
"I'm getting through to her."
The redhead's expression fell into one of disappointment and annoyance. "So you haven't got any information out of her?"
"I'm trying to. I've taken a different approach and she's coming around."
"But you still haven't got any information out of her." He stated factually.
"No, not yet. I just need one more d—"
Hongjoong's jaw tightened and he held his hand up, Seonghwa's breath hitching as he was forced aside, the invisible pressure around his throat increasing.
"Three days, I said."
"I... know." Seonghwa choked out.
"I gave you three days and you still have absolutely nothing. You're useless, Mars." He spat out.
Seonghwa gasped for air, his booted feet slipping along the flooring while he was being held slightly off the ground.
Hongjoong released his invisible grip on Seonghwa who fell to his knees, leaned over his hands which were planted on the floor as he took in ragged breaths.
Looking around, he saw some of the control room staff turned in their seats staring at him as he lie crumpled and weak on the floor. Meanwhile, Hongjoong was talking to a stormtrooper as if he hadn't Force strangled his apprentice. In that moment, as he was struggling to bring air back into his lungs he realized you were right. Hongjoong didn't care about him.
You're useless, Mars. The words echoed in his mind on repeat.
"Take me to her cell." Hongjoong's voice reached Seonghwa's ears, causing him to lift his head. "If you want things to get done you have to do them yourself." He complained to the trooper, taking a glance back at Seonghwa with a demeaning expression.
"Wait!" He coughed.
The maroon-haired Sith paused and turned to look down at Seonghwa who was just managing to get to his feet.
"You said three days. The day isn't over yet." He spoke hoarsely, but kept a steady tone so as not to give away how his lungs burned.
"Alright. I want results by the end of the day."
The door to your cell opened up and to your surprise, it was Seonghwa again. He sometimes showed up multiple times a day to interrogate you, but never this quickly. It had only been about ten minutes since he left.
He was rubbing at his throat with a gloved hand, his eyes looking frantic.
Something was wrong.
"Seonghwa?"
"Look, I need you to give me a reason as to why you were sent." There was that sense of urgency in his tone again, more obvious than earlier. And he didn't even snap at you for calling him by his real name.
"What happened?"
"Things won't be good for you if you don't cooperate." He ignored your question and you noticed how scratchy his voice sounded.
It wasn't hard to put two and two together.
"He hurt you."
Seonghwa stiffened and you knew your assumption was correct.
"You have to tell me, Y/n." His gaze turned serious and the desperation in his tone rose. "If you don't..." He hesitated to continue, but did so anyway. "Hongjoong is going to interrogate you instead and he won't be gentle or kind."
You'd known Seonghwa since you were kids and could tell when he was worried, but this wasn't worry—this was fear. All this time you'd refused to speak and all it took for you to crack was for Seonghwa to be in distress.
"I was planting listening devices." You caved, spilling almost immediately.
"Where?"
"In the West corridor near the hangar, in a meeting room, and in the control room where the ship is piloted."
His eyes met yours, turmoil and concern swirling around his brown irises. "I'm sorry it had to be like this."
And that was the last thing he said before turning away and leaving.
"I have news." Seonghwa announced, entering the control room.
Hongjoong turned towards him, an expectant look on his face.
"She cracked."
"It's about time."
"The Resistance base is on Takodana."
"Takodana?" Hongjoong repeated, raising a brow. "She told you that?"
"Yes."
"It's not the information I asked for."
"But it's helpful to us. It's what we've been working towards for weeks." Seonghwa mentioned.
"That's true." Hongjoong gazed out at the vast galaxy.
"Who cares why she was on the ship? We have their location."
Hongjoong nodded, murmuring, "Takodana, huh? Why didn't I think of that? It's a forest planet; the perfect place to go off the grid."
"Exactly."
Hongjoong snapped his fingers, beckoning the First Order's battle coordinator over. "I want you to send a fleet to Takadona right away." He ordered.
"Yes, sir." The man nodded before marching off.
Hongjoong passed Seonghwa, stopping long enough to say, "Maybe you can be useful after all."
His watchful eyes followed the redhead until he left the room before he made any moves of his own, exiting the control area and heading directly for the meeting room.
There was only one room on the ship used for meetings and Seonghwa knew exactly where it was.
Slipping into the empty meeting room, he surveyed the area, checking in crevices and corners before peeking underneath the large circular table in the middle of the area. Sure enough, there was a small device no bigger than the tip of his finger under the edge of the table. Stepping away, he began pacing around, mulling over the gravity of what he was about to do. Taking in a deep breath, Seonghwa prepared himself for what he was about to say, knowing it would change everything.
"I don't know who's listening to this but I need your help. It's me..." He hesitated. "Seonghwa. I don't have time to explain everything but I've just told my superior the Resistance base is on Takodana. They're sending a fleet of troopers that way immediately. Reinforcements here will be low. I need you guys to come and get Y/n out of here." He paused before adding. "Get us out of here. I'm ready to come home."
With a call for help sent out and no time to waste, he could only hope someone was listening as he left the room and put his plan into motion.
He didn't greet you or say a single word when he stepped back into your cell, grabbing your hands and holding them behind your back.
"Come here."
You yelped as you were jerked to your feet.
"Seonghwa? What's going on?" You panicked, wiggling in his hold.
"Be quiet." He hissed, shoving you out the door and down the cell block corridor, stormtroopers watching as he passed.
One of them blocked the way. "What are you doing with her?"
"We've obtained the information we need. She's of no use to us anymore." He responded coldly to the trooper's inquiry.
Every part of your body ran cold upon hearing that and you started writhing even more.
"No! No! Please don't do this!" You cried out.
"I said be quiet!" Seonghwa jerked you harshly before pushing you down the halls once more.
Your breathing was erratic, your hands cold and clammy. Were you really going to die by the hands of your old friend?
Not a single word was spoken while you were guided through the maze that was the First Order ship, awaiting your demise. You were brought to a room and shoved inside, Seonghwa releasing your wrists and caging you against the wall before you could even process it.
"You don't know what you're doing." You spoke shakily. "Please don't kill me. I—"
Seonghwa's lips pressed firmly against yours, effectively cutting off your sentence. A small noise left the back of your throat, your hands pressing against his chest as you fought to keep your eyes from fluttering shut.
He pulled away shortly with a heavy exhale and half-lidded eyes that gazed at you with longing.
"I love you too, Y/n."
Your heart leapt into your throat as he verbally returned your feelings.
"You're... you're not gonna kill me?"
"What? No." He shook his head. "That was just so I didn't raise any suspicions. We're getting out of here."
"We are?" You uttered so quietly you barely heard yourself.
"Yes. This isn't the life for me, Y/n. I miss the Resistance. I miss you. Maybe I was a weak Sith—or maybe my love for you was stronger than the hold of the Dark Side."
"Seonghwa." Taking the sides of his face, you pulled him to your lips, kissing him deeply, this time letting your eyelids slide shut while relishing in the warmth of his mouth.
When you pulled away, he had to blink himself out of the little daze he was in.
"Wow."
"We'd better get out of here alive." You said.
"We will. Just play along."
You nodded. "Got it."
He took your wrists and held them behind your back again to keep up the facade and led you out of the room, back into the ship's corridor. He didn't know how quickly a rescue team could get out there, but if no one had arrived by the time he made it to the hangar, Seonghwa would hijack a ship and get you both out himself.
Your eyes scanned the halls, attempting to look pitiful and helpless when passing stormtroopers or staff. On the inside, however, you were elated that Seonghwa returned your feelings and decided to return to Ajan Kloss with you. Though there was the lingering anxiety of needing to get out safely first. You were still in enemy territory—you both were.
The two of you rounded a corner, nearly running into a man with maroon hair that you didn't recognize, you and Seonghwa taking a few steps back. There was an intimidating  aura about the stranger that made you nervous just by looking at him. His eyes narrowed and he turned to your partner.
"This is the Jedi that snuck onto the ship. Why is she out of her cell, Mars? I didn't approve of this."
"We've got the information we need. I'm disposing of her."
You assumed this was the Hongjoong guy you'd been told about and was quick to lower your gaze to the floor, trying to appear non-threatening.
"And why would you dispose of her?"
As they exchanged words, Seonghwa could tell he wouldn't be able to pull this one off. Hongjoong was asking too many questions and wondering why Seonghwa was making decisions on his own without consulting him first.
You too were feeling as if things were about to go south and began worrying about how to defend yourself. It was at that moment you felt something cool being pressed into your palm that was behind your back. Your fingers curled around the object and realized it was a lightsaber—your lightsaber.
"What's really going on here?" Hongjoong inquired. "You've been odd since this little Jedi showed up." He regarded you with a curt jerk of his head, not bothering to look your way.
"I already told you, I'm disposing of her."
"See..." Hongjoong's hand imperceptibly inched towards his lightsaber at his hip. "I just don't think I believe you."
Your eyes widened and you were quick to reveal your lightsaber, activating the purple beam that hummed to life just as Hongjoong withdrew his own weapon. Seonghwa was holding out his lightsaber as well, ready to fight by your side.
"Ah." Sardonic amusement flickered across Hongjoong's features at the sight of his apprentice. "I see. You've switched sides."
Seonghwa's expression hardened and he pointed the end of his red lightsaber at the man. "I'm not afraid to fight you."
"Well you should be." Hongjoong spoke roughly before stepping forward and taking a swipe at both of you.
Leaping back, you two dodged his attack, retaliating with some of your own, both of you swinging your weapons at the Sith who was able to block every single one. You attempted to take a jab at him, but his red beam came up underneath your purple one and pushed it away, making you stumble at the physical force behind the action. He twisted his upper body and held his saber up to block an attack from Seonghwa that followed after yours.
It was clear this man was well-trained and even though he was outnumbered, he was managing to fight both you and Seonghwa without much of a struggle. Taking a step back to put some space between you and the enemy, you continued fighting back.
As soon as he saw an opening, Seonghwa took hold of your wrist. "Come on." He hissed urgently and tugged you down the ship's dim corridors in the opposite direction, fleeing the area.
"You're running away like a coward, Mars!" Hongjoong shouted after him.
"Where are we going?" You asked, pushing past a stormtrooper that stood in the way.
"Get them!" Hongjoong roared in the distance.
"Somewhere away from him." Seonghwa responded, keeping a tight hold on your wrist while guiding you through the steel and metal maze.
While your first priority was to survive, questions started piling up. Questions like: Would you survive? Would you even make it off the ship? Would you ever get back home?
"Here." You were snapped out of your daze by Seonghwa's voice as you were pulled into an open space, a grated walkway stretching across an endless canyon.
Unable to see the bottom of the foggy abyss below, your heart rate spiked.
"Hey, it's alright. Just stay close." Seonghwa gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, hurrying across the bridge. "We can still make it to the hangar from here."
"There you are."
You both froze at the sound of Hongjoong's voice, spinning around to face him as he approached with an intense and almost psychotic look in his sharp eyes.
"Stay back." Seonghwa was quick to push you behind him and rush forward to engage in battle with his ex mentor. You leaned against the railing of the grated walkway, looking on with wide eyes.
Seonghwa let out a grunt when Hongjoong's saber clashed with his, pushing against it. With clenched teeth and trembling hands, he shoved back and managed to get Hongjoong off of him. The Sith let out a low sound of disproval and swung once more, relentlessly attacking Seonghwa and giving him no time to fight back. All he could do was block and guard himself from the onslaught. You couldn't stand watching the battle persist without you. There was no telling how long Seonghwa could maintain his defenses until he was worn out. With no one to watch his back or help take the pressure off, you feared he wouldn't make it out of the fight unscathed.
"What happened? You used to beat me all the time during our practice battles." Hongjoong talked down to Seonghwa in a derisive tone.
The ex Sith let out a low noise from the back of his throat while taking a swing at the redhead who merely leaned back to avoid the humming beam of light.
"You're weakened already." He remarked snidely. "Do you really want to go back to being a spineless Jedi?"
Instead of responding, Seonghwa narrowed his eyes and took another swing at Hongjoong only for him to dodge again.
"You belong here."
"I don't!" He snapped. "I never did."
"I took you in."
"You took advantage of me!"
"And you became a powerful Sith because of it. So you should be thanking me."
"Thanking you?" Scoffed Seonghwa. "For what? Turning me into an evil monster?"
Hongjoong let out a huff of amusement. "For showing you your true potential, Mars. So tell me, are you with me or against me?"
"My name is Seonghwa." He grit out through his teeth.
"Very well. Chitchat is over." Hongjoong used his foot to kick Seonghwa back, his body colliding with the steel flooring of the bridge. A grunt was forced out of him, his deactivated lightsaber now lying by Hongjoong's foot.
"You don't need this anymore." He said, kicking the weapon off the side of the walkway and into the abyss below.
"No. Stop!" You shouted, rushing towards the two, unable to stand by any longer. You didn't care if Seonghwa told you to stay back, he needed your help.
Hongjoong held up his free hand, a powerful force pushing you back so vigorously you were sent through the air. You yelped, landing roughly on the grates as your lightsaber skidded across the platform. The breath was knocked out of you during impact, your throat and lungs attempting to work correctly again while you gasped for air.
"This is what happens when you betray me, Mars." Hongjoong spoke in an eery singsong voice.
Your eyes widened as he moved to stand over Seonghwa, lightsaber positioned and ready to strike. A sudden burst of energy and determination hit you as well as a wave of burning hatred towards the maroon-haired Sith, fueling your need to protect Seonghwa.
Your hand shot out towards your deactivated weapon, wheezing and coughing as you focused your energy. The saber shot from its position at the edge of the bridge and straight into your palm. Gripping the hilt of the lightsaber, you got to your feet and rushed over.
"This is the end for you." Hongjoong reared back and went to swing his glowing blade down on Seonghwa. As he did so, your purple beam was thrust forward, blocking his before it could even get close to doing any damage.
"What?" Hongjoong hissed out, his eyes drifting up to meet yours that burned with rage.
"I don't think so." You spoke lowly, pushing upwards and using your lightsaber to shove his away.
Seonghwa stared up at you in both shock and awe, using the opportunity to scramble back out of the crossfire as you went after Hongjoong with vigor.
"Do. Not. Come. Near. Him." You spat out between attacks, punctuating your words with each clash of your blades.
"Oh. Well, this is certainly interesting." Hongjoong chuckled over the sounds of battle.
Your lightsabers made that familiar electric sound as they collided, swinging in every direction possible. Any time you saw an opening, you went for it, even if Hongjoong blocked. There was no pattern to your attacks, just endless swipes and vicious swings.
"You took him away from me!" You raged, slinging your lightsaber at him while he struggled to fight back. "Three years!"
He stumbled while trying to back away, blocking your relentless hits.
A flicker of panic flashed across Hongjoong's face as you continued to shout at him and deliver swing after swing. Up until that point, he had defended himself and didn't show an ounce of fear. Clearly, he wasn't expecting you to go into a blind rage, but seeing him preparing to end Seonghwa's life kicked you into gear.
Your saber came at him from the side, which he deflected, but you didn't care, redirecting and taking a different approach. He hissed when you managed to swipe at his arm, tearing the fabric of his sleeve and slicing his skin underneath.
"Look at you trying to defend your boyfriend. Such mindless violence. You would've made a good Sith." Hongjoong grunted out while trying to provoke you despite the fact that you clearly had the upper hand.
"Shut up." You grit out, slinging the purple beam you wielded at his leg, causing him to yelp in pain, pressing his free hand to his calf where the fresh cut was.
"I'm impressed." He panted heavily, looking up at you. "You're putting up quite the fight."
He tightened his hold on his lightsaber as your eyes narrowed. The humming beam in his grip came barreling towards you, making you jump back. He gave you no time to retaliate, coming at you again. At the last second, you held your hand out, fingers outstretched as his weapon came to a stop in midair just a few inches from you. The heat radiating from the blazing light brushed your palm, but it wasn't enough to deter you. Hongjoong's cocky expression fell, his eyes darting between you and your hand which was keeping his lightsaber in place. He pushed down, trying to complete his action, his brows pulling together at the effort and exertion. Your hardened gaze stayed locked on the Sith as you moved your open hand forward, forcing the beam further away until you pushed it aside. He stumbled back, releasing a low guttural sound from the back of his throat.
"Not bad... for a Jedi."
Your jaw tightened at his backhanded comment. "You talk too much."
Blinded by anger, your free hand shot out, using the Force to launch him backwards across the bridge and all the way into the halls of the ship where he landed harshly against a wall. He winced upon impact, sliding down and crumpling on the floor in a heap.
The adrenaline coursing through you slowly started to wear off, your shoulders heaving up and down with each breath.
"I thought Jedi didn't Force choke?" Seonghwa asked amusedly from behind you while getting to his feet, referring back to something you said to him years ago.
"That was a Force push. There's a difference." You remarked with a small grin, deactivating your lightsaber and sliding it into its holster.
"That was... kinda hot."
You turned to him as he came to stand by your side, a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. "Was it?"
"It was." He confirmed, taking your hand. "Now let's get out of here."
The both of you hurried across the grated walkway and past Hongjoong's unconscious form, heading back the way you came, your footsteps thumping against the metal floors.
"Hongjoong ordered a fleet of ships to Takodana." Seonghwa mentioned while you moved down the halls. "There won't be as many reinforcements here, so we should be able to make it to the hangar without too much trouble."
"Takodana?" You echoed confusedly.
"I told him that's where the Resistance base was."
A fluttery feeling blossomed in your chest. He lied to his mentor to protect the Resistance members.
"Thank you."
He gave you a small smile, squeezing your hand. "You're welcome."
After turning a corner, you were met with a cluster of stormtroopers that jumped into action and began blasting at both of you the moment you were spotted.
Seonghwa grabbed you, tugging you around the corner and out of the line of fire.
"Well, this is a problem." You breathed out heavily. "We're outnumbered and you don't have a weapon."
"Yeah. Though we might be able to make it if we make a run for it and do our best to dodge. Their aim is horrible anyway."
"Not if we're close enough to shoot." You pointed out.
While you and Seonghwa were strategizing, the thud of something heavy falling to the floor came from where the stormtroopers were, followed by another thud and another. Preceding each thump was the sound of a blaster of some sort, but it was different than that of a trooper. The rap of footsteps heading your way made you both tense up and prepare to defend yourselves until a familiar face rounded the corner.
"Someone call a rescue team?" Han Solo asked with a grin.
"Han." You let out a mix between a laugh and a sigh of relief. "How did you know we needed help?"
"Seonghwa told us using one of the listening devices you planted."
"You heard me?" He asked, relieved that his call for help didn't fall on deaf ears.
"We were listening the whole time. We had a team of Resistance members monitoring the audio at all times." Han responded. "Now let's get you two outta here."
He beckoned you both forward, bringing you around the corner to find stormtroopers scattered about on the floor, each of them sporting one or more holes in their chests, their armor marred by burn marks.
"You took them all out by yourself?" You asked, stepping over one of the bodies.
"I've had lots of practice, kid." Han responded, moving on down the corridor.
The three of you jogged through the halls, proceeding quickly while sweeping the area. Your escape wasn't an easy one as more stormtroopers came up from the opposite direction, blocking the way.
"Stop right there!" One of them shouted, holding his blaster.
Han Solo pointed his own gun at the group of armor-clad troopers while you activated your lightsaber again. When they saw you were going to put up a fight, an onslaught of red plasma blasts blurred past. You moved in, ducking and dodging shots while taking a swing at the nearest stormtrooper's legs. He shouted in pain and fell to the ground, giving Han an opportunity to take him down while he was vulnerable.
Seonghwa, weaponless, used his Force abilities to push away the troopers that got too close, shoving them into one another. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to stop them.
"Hey, kid!" Han Solo called out to Seonghwa. "Thought you might need this so I brought it just in case." His glossy chrome lightsaber was tossed over. "Found it in Y/n's room."
Seonghwa's eyes widened, looking at you with surprise. You were about to ask Han why he was even in your room to start with, but Seonghwa spoke before you could.
"You kept my lightsaber in your room?"
Your cheeks were set aflame at his question before you shot one back at him without thinking. "Where were you keeping mine, huh?"
Now it was Seonghwa's turn to become flustered, his ears turning red.
Oh.
"Now's not the time for all this." Han spoke gruffly, using his blaster to hit a stormtrooper.
"Sorry." You and Seonghwa spoke in unison, his blue lightsaber activating.
A smile that couldn't be suppressed no matter how hard you tried spread across your face, a wave of nostalgia and joy filling you at the sight of him. It was just like old times.
Seonghwa lunged forward with a shout, you following behind with renewed vigor as you both went at the stormtroopers, knocking their blasters out of their hands and swinging your sabers, slicing through their armor easily. Any troopers you or Seonghwa didn't get were swiftly shot down by Han.
"I think that's all of them." You huffed out.
"Well then let's get out of here before more show up." Han Solo nodded with his head, urging you and Seonghwa forward.
Much to your relief, the three of you made it to the hangar where thankfully no stormtroopers were lingering about. Your feet moved faster, following behind Han to the opening of the hangar, looking around for his ship.
"Where's—"
His loud whistling cut you off as he waved his arm in the air, signaling something out in space. Seconds later, the Millennium Falcon came flying around the back of the First Order vessel.
"Step back." Han ordered as the Falcon eased into the hangar, the loading ramp extending from the bottom. "Come on, come on." He ushered you and Seonghwa up into the ship where you both followed him to the cockpit where Chewie was manning the controls.
Chewbacca stood up so Han could take his place, a joyous noise leaving him when he saw Seonghwa standing there beside you. He was immediately pulled into a big hug by the Wookie who was elated at the long-awaited reunion.
"I missed you too." Seonghwa chuckled, patting Chewbacca's back.
You too were pulled into a tight embrace, laughter bubbling up out of you.
"It's good to see you, big guy." You told Chewie, pulling away.
"Alright everyone, buckle up and hold tight. We're getting the heck outta here." Han Solo said.
Seonghwa's return to Ajan Kloss was a momentous occasion; he was welcomed back with open arms and firm handshakes, but not from Leia. From Leia, he received a suffocatingly tight hug.
"We're happy to have you back." She murmured tearfully, smiling up at Seonghwa. "And thank you for your distress call. Han insisted on being the one to bring you two back."
"Really?" You asked.
"Yes. We were getting a rescue plan together but it wasn't ready to be executed. As soon as we heard the call for help, Han started prepping to leave right away."
"Y/n, you're alive!"
You turned to see Poe walking over with Finn following behind.
"No thanks to you." You teased, giving him a hug.
"Hey now, I came right back here and told everyone you'd been captured." He defended lightheartedly, his eyes drifting to your friend standing beside you. "Ah. You must be Seonghwa! This girl right here talks about you nonstop. I wish I knew where Seonghwa was. I hope Seonghwa comes back. You would've liked Seonghwa. I hope we find—"
"Okay." Finn came up, chuckling awkwardly and grabbing Poe by the shoulders, slowly pulling him away. "That's enough out of you."
To celebrate your rescue and Seonghwa's return, the droids and cooks prepared a massive meal for the camp. The both of you stuck around the tent for a while to chat with Resistance members before deciding to go off somewhere for a little privacy. And that place was atop the Millennium Falcon.
"I missed the food here." You sighed fondly, rubbing your stomach. "The meals I was given on the First Order ship weren't great... no offense."
"None taken." Chuckled Seonghwa. "It was subpar at best. Even when I was a Sith I missed the food here."
You laughed softly, gazing up at the stars like you'd done years ago, seated with your legs crossed. When you turned back, Seonghwa was looking at you and had leaned in closer.
"This is nice." He murmured softly.
"What is?"
"Being up here with you."
Fighting back a smile, you responded. "And why's that?"
"Because I can finally give you a proper kiss."
He leaned in and placed his lips gently on yours, tentatively at first. Your eyelids fluttered shut and you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment now that you were both home and safe. His hand slid around to cup the nape of your neck, guiding you to lie back while his lips slowly danced over yours, making you melt. Once you laid down, he leaned over you and depended the kiss by tilting his head and picking up the pace. A mix between a soft sigh and a hum left you, your hands moving up to run through his long locks.
"I love your hair like this." You murmured against his lips.
"Yeah? You like it longer?"
"I do." You brushed your digits through it, making his eyelids flutter, a low noise leaving him before he dove back in for a passionate kiss that took your breath away. His hand that wasn't cradling the nape of your neck slid down your side to feel your curves through the fabric of your gray tunic.
Your fingers gripped at his inky hair, making him groan against your mouth, sending a flurry of butterflies to your stomach. His pillowy lips captured your bottom one, surrounding it in warmth before he encompassed your mouth wholly with his and making your head spin in the process.
When he pulled away, you were both panting shallowly, looking at each other with half-lidded eyes that were glazed over with adoration and longing for one another. It was a picture perfect moment; you and the man you loved lying under the stars together, reunited at last.
"I love you." Seonghwa murmured reverently, caressing your cheek tenderly with his thumb as you both gazed at one another lovingly.
You smiled softly at him before responding, "I know."
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