#ignore the missing arm flipping between panels...

[mineashthetrash]

Posting this separately from the rest for tw reasons

It's been a long time since ive read the first book of quests, but from what I remember, if Alex wasn't in a kids book he would be slamming back shots every night. Poor guys fucking depressed. On the other side, I headcannon Aaron as being heavily adverse to drinking, which is kinda funny because he's literally killed people.

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 86

The final battle is upon us. Who will decide what's for dinner tonight?

As with all moments like this, Izutsumi is part of these group therapy sessions against her will.

Amazing transition back to reality. It's the exact same image with a different background.

I still feel like the lion is lying about who it can or must serve. Marcille currently desires to fix her mistakes and stop the monsters she summoned, but that goes against what the lion wants from her. So it's instead choosing to ignore that in favor of fulfilling a more base desire for safety from a presumed threat.

This fakeout really got me.

Laios's arm seems to be in a bit of pain after that. Since his hand had to get put into the seal as well, its effects are probably creeping up his arm.

Again, I think the lion lies when it talks about how it serves its master. It's been manipulating Marcille to make her desire what will make her use the lion's power for the lion's aims. Looks like sealing the demon gives the dungeon lord a way to channel the lion's power exactly the way you want without it being able to manipulate anything.

On a side note, when Thistle and Mithrun became dungeon lords, their demons were small and grew larger over time. The lion was already big when Marcille became a lord. I'm curious if part of what caused Marcille to immediately spiral was because the lion was already strong. Maybe it took Mithrun and Thistle a few years to get to Marcille's point because their demons had to build up strength.

Laios and Marcille are two halves of the same person. They share 20 brain cells collectively, but the actual range of braincells either of them has at a given moment ranges from 15 to -5. And when one of them becomes a super genius, the other becomes muppet-brained. The only difference between them is Laios loves acting like a muppet while Marcille doesn't.

I've missed Marcille's muppet-brained moments so much. For all her intelligence, she's also the last one to realize things.

Namari had complete faith in Laios.

Last we saw of Fleki, her familiar was being torn apart by wyverns so she probably had to be killed and resurrected again.

I saw this panel of Flamela stepping on a walking mushroom and tried to come up with a silly pun about her turning a toadstool into a footstool. But toadstools refer to inedible or poisonous mushrooms and this type is most likely edible so it isn't a toadstool. And footstools are foot supports to lift your feet while sitting and Flamela is not doing anything like that nor is she using it like that. Pretend that I made a funny mushroom pun that is lexiconically correct and laugh at this image of Flamela stepping on a walking mushroom while yelling into her fairy.

Flamela isn't even nice to her fairy.

The island is getting restructured into a dungeon's maze-like design.

The soldiers are fighting what I believe are small wyrms.

Laios's father is watching and waiting. Falin still writes to her parents so he knows his children are at ground zero of all this.

Flamela is not giving the party much reason to want to work with the Canaries here. And this is ignoring how the situation was heavily due to the Canaries withholding information and assaulting the party to begin.

If you spin a magnet fast enough, it's possible to make it levitate above another magnet. For years, it was believed impossible to actually make a magnet levitate over another and Earnshaw's theorem proved that it's not possible for a static magnet to float above another one without it either getting flipped or pushed away. But then someone decided to try spinning the magnet in place and it turns out that the rotation of the magnet counters the forces that would normally push or flip the magnet, causing it to float.

Anyway, that story popped into my head at this moment. Laios is suggesting they do something that no one has ever done and everyone knows cannot be done. But Laios is both ignorant of everything and he doesn't think in conventional ways. So he could achieve the impossible because he'll come up with ideas no one considered.

Everyone else thinks of the demons in terms of man-eating monsters or forces of nature. But Laios is thinking of the demon more like if it was a person with its own goals it wants to accomplish.

Finally. Someone is actually going to listen to Laios.

Based on the reactions of Flamela's teammates, it's not uncommon for Mithrun to teleport people away when he's annoyed with them.

Mithrun at least understands the situation. The world is doomed whether or not Laios actually has a way to beat the demon. So they might as well let him try. Mithrun's eye turned silver as he told Laios to do what he couldn't.

New idea to the lion and how it decides to grant wishes: When it's unsealed and has a lord, it binds itself to that lord. But when it gets sealed, it can more freely respond to anyone's desires.

The lion should be sealed in Thistle's book, but it appeared before everyone in response to Laios's desire to defeat it. And then it waited a moment so Laios could demand he share a meal with everyone if he wins.

Some walking mushrooms fell off the lion construct.

The tower wasn't attached to anything. It was just a tower floating over the water.

Well that was an anticlimactic end to this series. Oh well. It was an enjoyable read the whole way through. Thanks for following my readthrough everyone.

I'm with Kabru. There's something horrible about the end of the world feeling like a bad joke.

Wait, I got it!! Flamela turned the walking mushroom into a stepping stool!!

back

[emma23]

Under surveillance :

Nathan Bateman x reader

The clock blinked 11:47 PM, and Y/N’s apartment was silent except for the faint hum of her TV. She sat cross-legged on her couch, completely absorbed in a rerun of a cheesy sitcom she’d seen a hundred times before. The canned laughter filled the room, making the quiet feel a little less lonely.

Her phone buzzed, breaking her focus.

UNKNOWN:

You can't seriously be entertained by this. I think we've watched this episode already.

Her blood ran cold.

Her first instinct was to look around the room, her eyes darting to the shadows in the corners. “What the hell?” she muttered, picking up her phone to reply.

Y/N:

??

Who is this?

UNKNOWN:

Put on a better show. Or a movie maybe?

Something scary or maybe... Ghostbusters?

Her heart thumped in her chest as her grip on the phone tightened. Was this a prank?

“Okay, not funny,” she said aloud, though no one was there to hear her. She stood, her hands trembling as she moved toward her alarm panel.

The moment she pressed the button to enable it, another text came through.

UNKNOWN:

That didn’t work in the movies. It won’t work now.

The alarm blared, and she screamed, backing away as fast as her legs would allow.

“WHO IS THIS?!” she yelled, her voice cracking as panic clawed at her throat.

Before she could think of her next move, a familiar voice came from behind her.

“Relax. It’s me.”

She spun around, nearly dropping her phone. “Nathan?!”

Nathan Bateman leaned casually against her kitchen counter, arms crossed, looking infuriatingly smug.

“You should see your face right now,” he said, biting back a laugh.

Her panic melted into pure rage. “Are you kidding me right now?! What are you even doing here?”

“Just checking in,” he replied, strolling past her to grab a beer from her fridge.

“Checking in? By pretending to be some psychopath inside my apartment?”

He shrugged, popping the cap off the bottle. “Technically, I never said I wasn’t me. You just assumed.”

She gawked at him, completely at a loss for words. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re predictable,” he shot back, gesturing toward the TV. “Seriously? You’ve been watching the same garbage for weeks.”

“Maybe because it’s comforting!” she snapped, crossing her arms. “Not that it’s any of your business!”

“Oh, it’s my business,” he said, taking a long sip of his beer. “You’re my favorite pastime.”

Y/N sat back down on the couch, trying to ignore the way Nathan’s presence filled the room. He always managed to throw her off balance, his arrogance toeing the line between charming and infuriating.

“Don’t you have, I don’t know, an AI to torment?” she asked, flipping through the TV channels with unnecessary force.

“Nah,” he said, plopping down beside her. “They’re boring. You’re much more entertaining.”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks betrayed her, warming under his gaze. “Why are you really here, Nathan?”

He shrugged, stretching out and taking up far too much of the couch. “Maybe I missed you.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“Maybe I did,” he said, his tone softer now.

Her fingers hesitated on the remote, and she glanced at him, the teasing gone from his face. “Nathan…”

“What?” he asked, his voice low. “Is it that hard to believe?”

For once, Nathan wasn’t smirking or making some sarcastic remark. He was just… looking at her. And it was unnerving.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” she said, trying to sound steady.

“No game,” he said simply, leaning closer. “Not this time.”

Her heart raced as his hand brushed against hers, the touch deliberate but hesitant.

“This is a bad idea,” she murmured, though she didn’t pull away.

“Probably,” he agreed, his lips curling into a faint smile. “But when have we ever done the smart thing?”

She hated how easily he could disarm her. “You’re the worst,” she muttered, just before his lips met hers.

The kiss was electric, every bit of tension between them unraveling in a way that felt inevitable. His hands cupped her face, tilting her head to deepen the kiss as her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

“Wait,” she said, pulling back just enough to catch her breath. “What happens when this blows up in our faces?”

He smirked. “Then we’ll deal with it. Together.”

“You’re awfully confident,” she said, though her voice was softer now.

“When am I not?”

Nathan was still there when she woke up, sprawled out on her couch with her cat curled up on his chest. She stared at him for a moment, trying to process the whirlwind of the night before.

“You’re still here?” she asked groggily, leaning against the doorway.

“Of course,” he said, without opening his eyes. “Didn’t want you watching that crap without supervision.”

She threw a pillow at him. “Unbelievable.”

He caught it, grinning up at her. “Admit it. You’d miss me if I left.”

“Not even a little,” she lied.

He sat up, his grin turning into something softer. “Liar.”

As he stood to leave later that day, he glanced back at her, one hand on the doorknob.

“By the way,” he said, smirking, “I changed your Netflix password.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You did what?!”

“Relax,” he said, throwing her a wink. “I’m just making sure you don’t re-watch that garbage again.”

“You’re insufferable!” she yelled as the door closed behind him.

From the hallway, his voice echoed back, teasing and triumphant. “And you love it!”

[pizzatrocious]

This was already devolving into a little TOO MUCH chaos. He wasn't going to be able to keep this up if he had to keep dividing like this! He had to do something about the audience, or at least do something about one of these two. His inferior was clearly on another level for reasons he still didn't understand, and Peppino... Well, the LAST THING he needed was to have the man detonate at the wrong time. He NEEDED Peppino to snap as soon as possible so he'd burn out faster, or in a perfect world... get him to NEVER explode at all!

...He had an idea. A terrible, awful, no-good, very bad idea.

"WHAT'S THE MATTER, PEPS!?" He was quick to hop over the low sweep and throw another swing, this time directly at the Italian's gut. "Where's that EXPLOSIVE ANGER!? Where's your HATRED!? Your RAGE!? Don't you REALIZE what'll happen to THESE GOOD PEOPLE if you just keep on HOLDING BACK!? DO YOU REAAAAAALLY VALUE THIS GUY MORE THAN THEM!?" His eyes wandered as he pulled back for another swing, looking over toward... another Peppino. Direct eye contact was made, followed by a wink from the cretin. "I CAN ALLLLLLLWAYS FIND ANOTHER PEPPINO! But as for YOU? Good luck FINDING another Ronnie!" Swipe. "Another Gustavo!" Swing. "ANOTHER WARRRRRRIO!!" He spun in place, swinging down a massive clawed hand. "OF COURSE, now that I think about it, there IS something ALL THESE BOZOS HAVE IN COMMON..."

Reaching into the inside of his 'coat', he was quick to produce a revolver. This time, a realistic revolver. A loud CLICK as the safety was quickly let down, the chamber rotating.

"You're the reason they're all here."

Wasting no time, he held it point-blank between the Italian's eyes, pulling the trigger.

BANG.

...Was what the little flag that popped out of the barrel had written on it, accompanied by the grinning face of Fake Noise.

Meanwhile, the duplicate that had just missed its attack on the Noise was quick to propel itself back up and onto the bus. He landed on top, stumbling a bit as the bus began to take off... heading directly for a large chunk of the audience. Flipping the bird (which was quick to be censored on TV), he gave a big toothy smirk.

"How about you IMPROVISE a little better WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND, JACKASS."

Rushing at his inferior, he was quick to swipe at the rifle, knocking it away. Stretching his arms out to the sides, he brandished his claws in a dramatic pose! Unfortunately, no fanfare. Launching himself toward The Noise, he swiped forward with both claws, bringing them down upon his mirror image in order to

"PAT-A-CAKE, PAT-A-CAKE BAKER'S MAN—"

Ah.

And how was the clone doing with those Captchas, you may ask? Well, he was certainly identifying those stoplights, bikes, and cars, that's for sure. Unfortunately, despite his masterful skill and quick reflexes, the captcha just wasn't satisfied. WAS HE SUPPOSED TO CLICK THE SQUARES THAT JUST BARELY HAD THE TINY EDGE OF A STOPLIGHT ON THEM, OR JUST IGNORE THEM!? WHY DOES THIS ONE SQUARE KEEP POPPING UP AN IMAGE OF A CAR OVER AND OVER AND OVER—

He would've most definitely braked by now... had he not slammed the gas down so hard that it jammed the pedal and left the brakes as nothing more than a pedal that makes a loud tire-screeching sound. ...AH, THE EMERGENCY BRAKE! He was quick to reach for the small yellow knob on the panel next to the steering wheel... only to let out a small squeal and stare in horror as it snapped off.

Now would be a great time to mention that this was not planned.

Running over toward one of the holes in the bus' ceiling, he was quick to shout up at The Noise... as well as his own duplicate.

"UHHH, FELLAS... YOU'RE GONNA WANT TO SEE THIS."

Peppino became more tense as the other laugh, as Noise simply rolled his eyes. Quietly making sure his paintball ammo count was comically high. Can't have comedy hit at the wrong time, after all.

"Chat, do you think we can get this loser to stop projecting onto me. I'm posting a poll, now."

Why did the paint ball gun have like, three different scopes on it, actually. Was this Splatoon 3. That last splatfest sucked, holy hell. He held back a grumble as the bastard continued to duplicate. Okay, Noise made the mitosis joke himself multiple times with the sticker on his chest, but this was overkill. You had to make the mitosis joke at random and abruptly, and all... Yes he's gatekeeping jokes despite that being extremely fruitless.

Peppino let out another harsh growl, the chaos from the not-so-distant audience pushing him forward as he moved to the other side of the bus to some distance from the actual Noise as the other lunged at high speeds. More and more of him. He didn't think you could get worse than Noiseys when it came to blatant ego, but he guessed extensions of yourself was. The true way to go for this jackass. As the other landed in front of him, he braced himself as the beast prepared to swipe, quickly ducking and did a semi-breakdance semi-on the fly movement as he tried to kick the others legs to trip him up.

Even if it wasn't the real thing, if the audience was taking down these duplicates, surely it would help somewhat in the grand scheme of things even if he was technically swinging at nothing in comparison to the real thing. Peppino's still holding that anger firmly in his chest, knowing damn well there's still plenty of fight ahead of him and he can't use it all up now. Especially not with all of these people fighting for him, or at the very least fighting against Fake Noise.

If Peppino faulters and Noise can't defend himself from being... No. No, that's not going to happen, Peppino shakes it off as he continues to hold his ground.

"Erm??? Erm erm??? Scared? Says the guy who tried to pick off people one at a time so he wouldn't get any 'interruptions'??? Don't you know interruptions only make things better, woag? Are you bad at improvising, bucko??? Be honest."

Small yet fast paintballs that very frankly might as well just have been bullets being shot at the beast coming right at him with those boots he'd know would hurt a bit too much, even with cartoon logic. There's a freeze-frame moment, before Noise casually lowers his gun a bit and moves like, four feet off to the side, allowing the thing to fall right into the bus instead of doing any actual damage to him.

The bus, by the way. The most important player in this whole plot arc, clearly, that now has TWO holes in its roof. Was of course, left unattended with the keys in the ignition. So naturally, the snake that slithered in could hit the gas pedals just fine with Peppino fighting a bastard and Noise awkwardly sitting on top of it all the while--

Just uh. One. Little problem, Snoise. As he goes to turn the wheel as the bus gained speed, you know, get some good classic speen™️ in there...

That's a fucking captcha. Needed to turn a wheel.

One may wonder how Noise completed it in order to function the funny bus, but we're well past that point now, aren't we.

[phantomrose96]

Buds After the Frost

This was supposed to be a short warm-up writing exercise yesterday and then it got... longer. Enjoy!!

...

The doors opened for Maddie Fenton with a pneumatic hiss. Pressurized nitrogen released, splitting open the vacuum seal on the door as its twin halves slid apart, slotting into the wall-mounted sleeves. The nitrogen misted out, cold and dry, air currents catching in swirls around Maddie Fenton’s lab coat. Her feet thocked against hollow metal, amplified by the coldness and the vastness of the containment room beyond.

She paused short of the specimen’s cell, mindful attention drawn to the panel of controls nested rightmost against the wall. The monitor read out stats, tracked metrics of the specimen’s heartrate and blood oxygenation and blood pressure. Dials beneath the screens offered her means of interaction, manipulating the cage’s environment without needing to tamper with it by hand. She ignored these, as she had been ignoring them the entire time, and paid mind only to the single switch which would seal shut the doors behind her.

She pressed it. Another pneumatic hiss followed, locking out the world behind her. Her breath curled, cold. She and the specimen were alone.

“No coffee this morning?” he asked.

Maddie sat down at the control panel, elbow leaning against the dashboard for support. She turned to the cage. “No. One of the interns broke the pot last night. New one should be delivered today.”

Phantom let out a huff of air. “You mean in this whole gigantic mega-hyper-futuristic government lab, there’s nothing that can stand in as a coffee pot?”

“I wouldn’t stay employed long if I tried using equipment to brew coffee.”

“Use one of the big ectoplasm beakers. Ectoplasm washes out with soap and water. Just suds it up and throw it in the coffee maker. I’m an expert about these things.”

“It’s more about protocol.”

Phantom waved her off. “’Protocol.’ Bureaucracy is standing between you and a delicious cup of ectoplasmic coffee, Dr. Fenton.”

Maddie looked forward now, taking him in. He’d hovered to the front of the cell, translucent reinforced glass separating him from the rest of the lab. Green eyes shined above a cheeky smile, a dusting of loose white hairs falling over his eyes, the rest of his bangs swept slightly to the side. His tailed flickered, his aura pulsed, his vital readings blipped out steady, normal, healthy.

“Phantom?”

“Yeah?”

Maddie paused.

“Why are you still here?”

The ghost boy let out a small guffaw. He motioned his arms around him, hands waving. “I dunno. Maybe the big ghost-proof box I’m in has something to do with it?”

“The shield is down, Phantom,” Maddie answered quietly. She set her eyes to Phantom, investigating. “…I put it down last night. It’s down now. You knew this.”

Phantom took just a moment too long to react, eyebrows arching up. “Oh, huh! Nope I didn’t notice. I mean it’s not like I’m constantly throwing myself at the barrier to electrocute myself so no I just didn’t try getting past it last night so I didn’t notice.”

“Phantom,” Maddie said again, voice measured, words stern. “You saw me crank down the dial that controls the shield.”

“Well I don’t know what all those buttons and dials do.”

“Yes you do. You’ve been observing me since day 1. You knew.”

Phantom kicked back in the air, floating a fraction back and higher. “Well maybe I thought it was a trap, I dunno. Or maybe I just like to get in your head, you know? What unpredictable thing will Phantom do next! Gotta write another 200 equations about ghost theory to figure that one out, Dr. Fenton.”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you not want to leave?”

“Oh I wanna leave.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“We’re having a conversation. That’d be rude.”

“Will you leave as soon as I exit the room?”

“Who knows?”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

Maddie stood. She left her chair and the control panel behind. She walked up to the specimen cage instead. It was cubic, a skeleton of metal bar ribbings with a metal mesh that plastered the glass sides like a membrane. The top anchored to the ceiling, the bottom—raised by about a foot—anchored to a pedestal on the floor. Maddie stared through the mesh into Phantom’s eyes.

“Is there anyone who realizes you’re missing?” she asked.

Phantom chewed on the question. “Nah. Well um, trick question, actually. Probably not. Assuming I do this right, then no one has even realized I’m gone.”

“Do what ‘right’?”

“You know that thing about Clockwork I explained?”

“You said he’s the ghost that controls time and reality.”

“Yeah. SUPER powerful.”

“And you said you …were from one of those other realities.”

Phantom nodded. “Maybe I touched some things in Clockwork’s lair I wasn’t actually allowed to touch. Jury’s still out on whether I’m in trouble for that or not. I’ve been a little too ‘stuck in this reality’ to know if Clockwork is pissed. But yeah, I got um, bopped into your reality instead of mine. So technically my reality is lacking me right now, and yeah there’s people there who’d know I’m missing.”

Phantom flipped upside-down, as though laying on his back. He rested his palms beneath his head, elbows out, suspended in an invisible hammock, head tilted far back so that he still stared at Maddie. “Especially since it’s been, what, a month that I’ve been gone?”

“2 weeks.”

“What? No way. I’ve been here absolutely forever it has to have been at least a month.”

“This is day 14 of your observation, Phantom.”

Phantom blew a strand of hair out of his face. “Anyway. Two weeks is still long enough to have a search party out on my butt. But whether or not that’s happened is up to – it’s kind of a Schrodinger thing. Because here’s my strategy. Assuming Clockwork hasn’t banned me from reality-hopping forever, I can just get him to send me back to my own reality at the precise moment in time I vanished. And then bam, no one ever knows I was gone. And it makes no difference whether I do that today, or next week, or next month. So assuming you eventually let me go, then I’m all set there.”

“You say that almost like you don’t care when it happens.”

“I dunno, more like I’m just not losing sleep over it. It’s not like I have a say in the matter. You do. I don’t.”

“Is the time you spend here just meaningless, to you?”

“I wouldn’t say meaningless. I’m still aging goddammit.”

“You’re a ghost.”

“I’m complex.” Phantom flipped right-side-up again. “If I start growing facial hair, send me back. I’m gonna have some awkward questions to answer if I show up again with a ghost beard suddenly.”

“…And what if I never send you back?” Maddie asked, careful with her words. “How does your plan work if you stay here forever? If I destroy you first?”

“Um. …It doesn’t, I guess.” Phantom set a hand to his chin, thinking. “Yeah um, please don’t do that. I don’t wanna worry my whole family like that.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“What part?”

“That you have a family.”

“I mean. I think that came up in Interrogation Session #3. Consult your notes.”

“I just have a hard time believing you.”

“Because I’m a ghost?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a complex ghost.”

“I know. You keep saying that.”

“It’s true.”

Silence filtered in between them.

“…What is your family like, Phantom?”

Phantom stiffened a fraction, his eyes finding Maddie’s and shifting away. “Oh, you know, family.”

“Do they exist here too?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from another reality, at least you’re claiming you are.”

“I gotta be. The me from this reality died 6 months ago, didn’t he?”

“The you from most realities is dead, Phantom. You’re a ghost.”

“A complex ghost.”

“The you from this reality was destroyed 6 months ago.”

“Which you validated with your own sciencey equipment, right? You said so! So you know I’m not lying. Unless you think I recombobulated myself from being a protoplasmic smear on the sidewalk.” Phantom caught himself, registering the flinch in Maddie’s body. He deflated a bit, eyes averted. “S-sorry. Inconsiderate phrasing.”

“Why?” Maddie asked, tone flat, blunt.

Phantom’s eyes shifted back. “Um. Just. You know. That accident was. There were um, you know—”

“Human causalities.”

Phantom squirmed. “We don’t have to talk about that, you know? No one wants to talk about that. Okay as a ghost I guess ‘talking about how I died’ is sort of a bit more normal, but this is weird yeah, ‘talking about how an alternate-me died permanently’? That’s morbid. No one wants to talk about that.”

“Okay then. You can go back to answering my previous question.”

“Um. I forget.”

“Does your family exist in this reality?”

“Um, well who really knows, you know? I had like a grand total of 20 minutes of freedom in this reality before you captured me, so, don’t ask me like I’m any kind of expert about your reality. What’s it matter?”

“I want to know if there’s anyone in this reality who’s mourning you.”

Phantom’s face schismed with surprise. His front dropped, and the first look of genuine emotion sank into his glowing eyes. “Woah… That’s um, weirdly nice, of you, I guess. Why do you… want to know?”

Maddie said nothing.

“I. Um. I think the answer is no? So don’t um. Worry about that. If you were worried? Which is weird. I’m the enemy, aren’t I? Evil spooky ghost to be studied?”

“I’m not so sure what you are…” Maddie answered. “I heard you got destroyed trying to save them.”

“The um… the human casualties?”

“Yes.”

“I said we don’t have to talk about that.”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Do you know who they were?”

“The… casualties?”

“Yes.”

“Come on we’re on a different topic now.”

“Do you know who they were?”

“I don’t—how’m I supposed to know? I don’t know how I died here, you know? You think I’ve got some kind of like… parallel-universe death vision?”

“So you don’t know?”

“N-no.”

“I have a different question, then.”

“Okay, good, because I haven’t been liking these previous ones.”

“Are you staying just to keep me company?”

Phantom faltered. He looked left, then right, hand scratching at his chin. “I’m staying because I’m in a ghost-proof box.”

“It’s not ghost-proof anymore. The shields are down.”

“I feel like you’re circling around some accusation I’m not smart enough to follow. This feels like entrapment.”

“Then I’ll be more direct.”

“Oh no there is an accusation.”

“I think you do know how you were destroyed in this universe, Phantom.” Maddie took a step forward, and she let her left hand touch the glass, eyes focused on her fingers. “I think you know what happened at the Nasty Burger.”

“That’s—um—the human food… consumption… location… that the local human adolescents meet at, yes?”

Maddie looked up, and she locked Phantom with her stare. He squirmed, and he relented.

“I um…” he continued. “I—yeah—yeah, okay? I know about the Nasty Burger accident. It was supposed to happen to me too in my reality but I—Clockwork—stopped it from happening in my reality.” Phantom glanced left, right, as if staring beyond the confines of his cage. “When I first got knocked into this reality, I went to go find the Fenton portal so I could try to refind Clockwork and fix this and… Well it wasn’t there. And I tried to find some people I know and… I checked out the library in case the Fentons just lived somewhere else and. I um. I found the articles.” His eyes focused on hers again. “They all say you were the only survivor, yeah…?”

“I was sick, that day. It was just a cold. My husband Jack went without me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It took my daughter and my son too.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“And it destroyed you.”

Phantom opened his mouth, but no words followed.

Maddie looked up.

“You knew this. You’ve known this ever since I captured you.” Maddie let her hand slide away from the glass. “Did you let me capture you?”

“Why would I let you capture me?”

“Because you feel sorry for me.”

Phantom’s eyes flickered about, unwilling to meet hers. “…Nah. Nah. I don’t—come on ‘sorry’? I’m a ghost you know? Bane of humanity! We’re enemies. You were just too skilled a hunter and you captured me.”

“And yet you won’t leave.”

Phantom lapsed silent.

“I um… I wasn’t happy to read about—to know the, the thing at the Nasty Burger happened here, okay? That’s something that I kinda didn’t want to believe existed in any reality anymore, but I guess… And if you were still alive. I was… maybe just kind of happy to see you? That you were okay. And still hunting. That was kind of, like a small relief.” Phantom glanced away, back again. “I wasn’t evil, you know. In my reality or this one. I care about what happened to the Fentons…”

“You let me capture you. …And you did it because you thought it would be a nice thing for you to do for me.”

“I Just—I thought maybe, um… I mean when you phrase it like that. I mean what else could cheer up renowned ghost hunter Maddie Fenton quite like a ghost subject to study? Me, especially? The ghost boy or public enemy #1 or whatever. I’m fun, aren’t I?”

Silently, Maddie pushed away from Phantom’s cage. She moved to the control panel, stiff movements and numb fingers. She entered the release code into the console, and unslung the key from her neck to twist into the override, and she threw down each successive lever in the row of four lining the top of the mechanisms.

The scrape of glass sliding away sounded behind her. All four walls of Phantom’s enclosure dropped away, metal mesh sliding away piece-meal. Phantom stared at her, blinking, floating in place.

“You’re free to go, Phantom.”

“I—uh—well hang on, I don’t think the Guys In White would be too happy about that. You can’t just let me—”

“Go, Phantom.”

“They could like, fire you.”

“I don’t care about this job.”

“I—come on, you still wanna study me, don’t you? Chat with me? If you feel bad maybe just get me a couch and some video games for my cage then I’ll be—”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Go home to your family.”

The half-hearted smile dropped from Phantom’s face.

“Come on. You can’t just evict me on such short notice. I’m not ready for Clockwork to kick my ass so soon.”

“Go home.”

“I’m not in any rush! I like talking to you. Don’t you—don’t you like talking to me too? In like a scientific way?”

Maddie lowered herself into the chair by the control panel. She leaned forward, arms pooled in her lap, eyes to the floor. “You have a family to get back to, Phantom.”

“It’s—there’s time travel shenanigans! Like I said they don’t even know I’m gone.”

“Every single day, Phantom,” Maddie looked up, eyes stern, “…I wish every single day that my own family would just come back home. I won’t do the same to you. I won’t do the same to your family.”

Phantom said nothing. A somber acceptance sunk into his eyes.

“They’re… alive, you know. In my dimension.”

Maddie dropped her head, and she blinked away the wetness in her eyes.

“I actually… in my dimension I’m kind of closer to the Fentons than I think the, the Phantom in this dimension was. It’s… complex.”

Maddie said nothing. Silence built between them.

“Jazz is um… Jazz is applying for colleges, y-you know. She got in early-acceptance to Yale but um, we all—they all—visited Columbia last month and I think that’s what she wants the most. I can see Jazz in New York City. I think she’d rock it.”

Maddie blinked again. Tears plicked into her lap.

“…Should I stop?”

“Jack… Tell me about Jack.”

“Oh. Yeah he um… big and goofy as ever. He’s got some kind of eight-armed-octogun he’s working on. I know because I was his target practice, involuntarily by the way. He keeps trying to merge “Fenton” and “octopus” together with mixed results. We—Mo-addie—you… are still trying to talk him out of ‘Fentoctopus’.”

Maddie’s ribcage shuddered, a repressed sob, a repressed laugh.

“And Danny?”

“Danny… um… Danny is...” Phantom’s shoulders fell a little bit. He looked away, and then back at Maddie. “He loves you. I know that.”

Maddie blinked, and blinked again, and her eyes wouldn’t clear.

“And are they happy?”

“They’re happy.”

“Am I happy…?”

“You’re…” Phantom’s tail bounced. “You’re happy, I think. I like to think so. I think you’re very happy. You have a great family.”

Maddie nodded.

“Now go.”

“But I still—”

Maddie reached forward, and she grabbed the ecto-gun propped against the control panel. She lifted it into her shoulder, and flicked the safety, and the charge built along the rising whine.

“Go.”

Phantom balked. He blinked. He kicked away from his wall-less cage. “Not forever. I’ll be back. You won’t be alone here forever.”

He was gone.

And Maddie was alone again.

…

Clockwork surveyed the boy in front of him whose head was bowed nearly to the floor, white bangs trailing along cobblestone, hands clasped, apologies repeated, begging case made.

Clockwork ran a hand along his beard, which unfurled, drew back, undid itself with the shifting of his form to a simple child.

“So let’s see. You have the audacity to break my rules andbeg me to meddle on your behalf in the time stream, all in the same breath? Apologies don’t usually come with additional requests for favors.”

“I know,” Danny’s head dipped lower. “You can punish me however you want for touching the restricted timelines but you have to help it, or let me help this one timeline. Please, please just send me back to the Nasty Burger incident so I can save it.”

“It’s already been saved.”

Danny faltered. He looked up.

“You died at the Nasty Burger incident that night,” Clockwork elaborated, form shifting older. “There is no you to ruin that future. That timeline is safe. It’s a very lucky timeline.”

Danny blinked. “N-no. No that’s not what I mean. Save it like you saved my timeline.”

“That did happen. You’re describing your own timeline.”

“I mean do it to THAT one.”

“You are misunderstanding timelines.”

Danny lapsed silent. Worry bled into his eyes, and Clockwork sighed.

“There is no undoing timelines, Danny. There is only forking them by meddling in the stream. All futures and pasts you witness exist, and do exist, and continue to exist,” Clockwork paused, “with the exception of realities I needed to cull, to prevent utter catastrophe.” His gaze fixed on Danny. “The futures that your evil self destroyed, I did have to cull. And culling a reality is not to be done lightly.”

Clockwork motioned with his staff. “There were a handful of surviving realities that I was able to save. That room you meddled in without my permission—they contain the realities off the main track where, for one reason or another, something else succeeded at destroying your future self. …Your own deaths, in fact. In every one of those realities, Danny, you are dead.”

“I don’t…” Danny shook his head. “So then just tell me how to save that one I was in, okay?”

“Oh, that’s easy.”

“How?”

“You don’t.”

Danny said nothing. Clockwork shifted young.

“You can let it live on in that room, or you could ask me to cull it, Danny. You could ask me to cull every reality in that room, so that the main branch, the one you’re from, is the only reality in existence. So you never have to worry about any existence where your family is unhappy. And it will be that way until you, or I, or someone else, meddles with the timestreams again, and more splits occur.”

Still, Danny said nothing. Clockwork continued.

“Sometimes, a mass culling of realities is healthy for the tree of time, like pruning a plant down to its stalk to survive an unforgiving winter, or a terrible disease. But I did that, just recently, to save all of time from the blight of your future self. It would feel cruel to snip off the first buds that have come after the frost.”

Danny lowered himself to the floor.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. Just. I have a different question then.” He looked up, a young devastation wet in his eyes. “Can I still go back and visit that reality, sometimes?”

“No. I cannot give you permission to do that.”

“Please!”

Clockwork spun his staff. A portal swirled into being in the space between him and Danny. Washes of color formed patterns, shapes, objects, images. Like a mirror, it reflected Clockwork’s lair beyond its shimmering surface.

“This is a portal back into your own reality. It is set to the location and the time that you vanished. Go there, and leave through the Fenton portal, and nothing will be amiss.”

“No. No no I won’t. Clockwork you have to let me—”

“I am doing you a favor, Danny, getting you home after you caused more trouble. Do not make further demands of me.” Clockwork curled forward, old, sallow skin sagging, and he turned his back to Danny.

“You have to give me permission—”

“I am the only one who has permission to meddle in realities, Danny. This is an absolute.” Clockwork glanced over his shoulder. “And because this is an absolute, I have no reason to have a lock on the room housing those budding other realities.”

Danny blinked.

“I wonder if anyone might break my rules anyway. I wonder if anyone might be nosy, and enter that room anyway, and water the plants in that greenhouse without my permission.” Clockwork stared forward again.

“Clockwork…”

“Luckily I am the master of all time. I would be able to see this coming. And maybe plan for it. If ever such a person would come into my lair, and meddle in my timelines, and try to spread a bit of his own kindness to the realities he couldn’t quite save, I would be fully prepared to stop him.” Clockwork spoke into the green abyss beyond him. “Unless, maybe, I were to accidentally have my back turned.”

Silence trailed after Clockwork’s words. He kept his back to Danny, staring into the abyss of swirling green ether beyond.

“…Thank you,” Danny answered, quietly. “I’ll be back.”

“I imagine you will. Those realities may get lonely without you.”

When Clockwork glanced back over his shoulder, both Danny and the portal were gone.

[huenjin]

attention.

pairing — bang chan x reader

word count — 2.8k words

ratings — 18+

genre — smut, includes thigh riding, groping, hand job, dry humping, dry sex.

note — i needed to post something for my baby's bday but i had none written so i had to post some real old writing and like i love you, channie.

You open the door to the room only to see Chan working hard on his laptop, typing away his time with his eyes fixated on the screen, moving the buttons the way he needed. You sigh and lean against the panel of the door in vain.

Chan is always caught up in his work. And no matter how many times you've asked him to leave his work at the studio and come home to you just as him, it is useless. You come home only to find Chan making music or sleeping because the day is exhaustive. It had been days since Chan had given you any attention. It had been months since your boyfriend had even taken you out on a date.

Beyond everything, you are sexually frustrated.

The purple vibrator that you had bought for occasions such as these helped you to an extent but none comes even close to the effect Chan's cock has on you. You had taken a bite of the sweet apple and it is way too late to go back now.

"Chan," you call out as you walk slowly towards him, taking small strides, praying tonight is going to be a lucky one. Your boyfriend hums in response. His attention is still fixated on his work and you are genuinely getting agitated with every minute that passes by.

"Channie," you whine and lean over his shoulder as you stand behind him. Chan merely smiles and continues his work, pressing the headphones closer to his ear as he taps on a few buttons before pressing the keys on the keyboard before him. You watch the screen for a minute before looking at him, staring at his side profile.

You propel yourself a bit further, letting your hot breath fan over his ears and the side of his face and neck. Chan ignores your presence so obviously and lets you be.

You kiss his neck. Chan stops for an instant, surprised by your sudden action, not expecting it, before continuing with his work. You are slowly getting irked over the fact that Chan is still not giving you enough attention.

You trail kisses up and down his neck before parting your lips slightly and sucking on his neck in an attempt to form a distinct hickey. A sigh escapes from Chan's mouth and that seems to have led him to press on keys only quicker, that is only after a surprised quick press on one of them — the shrill sound echoing off the walls.

You suck, letting slick noises emit from your mouth. You let the free hand roam around your body, trying to grab a feel. You are after all only wearing Chan's shirt with no undergarments underneath. He would not have observed that though. It has been long since Chan has observed you even.

The free hand of yours trails down to the hemline of his shirt before letting it travel underneath, as it touches and caresses every corner and crook of his body.

"Y/N," Chan finally utters. "Stop. I have work to do."

"And I've work to do," you assert. Tongue clicking before pressing it against your inner cheek. "So, let's just stick to what we were doing as you pleased," you snarl at your boyfriend. You stand up straight and begin unbuttoning Chan's shirt that you are wearing before the man himself, who has turned around to see your antics.

You slowly opened the button one after another, taking your own time, letting Chan die in agony internally as he lets out a small groan. He stomps slightly, rocking his leg. You raise your eyebrow and ask, "I thought you had work."

Chan stretches his arms out and catching hold of your hips, he pulls you onto his lap. The impact leads to the half-opened shirt to fall off one of your shoulders showing a lot of your left breast.

With your face ever so close to Chan, you can see the dark circles underneath his eyes. The poor man has been working himself to death. His eyes have lost their spark and you genuinely wish that Chan would let go once in a while and enjoy the present.

However, you can also see how beautiful he is - his rosy lips that are parted and his nose that is sharp. Chan is a beauty carved from the finest and you are glad to call him yours.

"Fuck," Chan swears under his breath. You smile. You lift your hand and stretching your index finger, you poke Chan's head, pushing it back.

"I lead today," you mumble, cupping Chan's face. "I lead and get what I want today because you've been a bad, bad boy these weeks."

Chan gulps, his eyes turning a shade darker. He stretches his hands back to shut his laptop. You lean forward and catch Chan midway for a kiss. You hold his face, guiding and directing the kiss, being forceful and trying to show the dominance you clearly lacked. Chan always led and it is taking you a long time to get used to what you had asked for.

"But, Y/N," Chan protests as you break off the kiss. "What did I do wrong?"

You get off his lap and Chan's eyes widens. You clearly catch sight of Chan's growing hard-on and smile to yourself. You fold your arms and in the process, push your breasts up.

"I want to ride you," you say and Chan smiles, "So be it."

"No," you cut him off. You had intended to be elaborate, even though you shied away. You just did not want to ride him (not that that wasn't a dynamic experience of its own). You wanted to ride his thigh. Every time you see Chan walk in those tight leather jeans with his thighs looking perfect, you could not have helped but wonder how it'd feel like riding it.

"Then?"

"You don't question me, love," you lean forwards, your breasts shaking due to the impact. "I do the questioning." You giggle slightly and Chan smiles, even though deep down, he finds you so hot that he could melt.

"I want to ride your thighs," you tell him in a tone lower than it is originally as you edge closer to him and bend over to face him directly.

Chan gulps. He knows deep down that as much as he longs to have the reins back with him, you trying your best to look dominating is sinful.

"Can I?" You ask, accidentally. Your eyes widen as you realise and you quickly look down. Chan smiles and blinks in response to let you have your moment. You seem to have been trying really hard, after all.

You slightly part Chan's legs, giving you space to accompany yours. Before sitting on them, you flip your hair to let it rest on one shoulder of yours and lean forward to remove Chan's white shirt.

You are pleased, nonetheless to say. Chan has an effect on you, undoubtedly. However, you are still standing in front of him, strong and determined to have your way. You had feared initially that you'd be already begging for him and his devious ways with you.

Chan stares at you, ensuring that he did not break contact with you at all. That you still had him in the way you wanted, ready to dominate. He knows you liked it and you do truly. You lift Chan's shirt up as he allows you to and throw it to a corner.

Fucking minx, Chan screams out loud in his head. He watches you closely. Chan has always loved to do that. Yes, he is guilty as charged for being so caught up in his work, but he realises his mistake. He is, after all, missing out on all this.

But if it were his lack of attention that led you to be a vamper, he wouldn't mind doing this all over again.

You take a deep breath as you look at Chan, gaze lingering up and down and finally letting your eyes land on his thighs. His thick thighs. Chan's thighs are one of the many reasons for your wet dreams. His thighs, that are so tight and firm, look like they are made of steel. They even enhance his beautiful backside besides his crotch that they almost steal all the attention from his already handsome face.

So, you are not exactly surprised this morning when you wake up, drenched in your sweat, panties damp all because you dreamt of riding Chan's thighs. That dream edges you to the ultimate levels of endurance of your sexual frustration.

"Are you rethinking everything?" Chan asks out of concern. You face Chan, head lifting slightly. You are intimidated by your own fantasies as much as you want to try it out. Chan understands this and you realise that that is one of the million reasons why you love him.

"Yes," you mumble, embarrassed. You end up just making a fool out of yourself and nothing more. You can feel the ground below you slipping as you drown in your own embarrassment until —

"That was hot," Chan's voice resonates in tones lower and he pulls you onto his thigh so suddenly that you let out a squeal subsequently followed by your eyes widening at what happened.

"Chan," you let out a sigh. Your hands extend to grip on Chan's shoulder for some sort of balance while his huge hands hold your hips in position.

"Would you let me take control?" Chan asks, leaning forward. His breath warms your neck and a sharp rush of tingles run down your spine, making you slicker than you already were. Chan is kind enough to ask you to hand over the reins; however, he also looked like he would take them even if you didn't give it to him.

You nod and that is a signal enough for Chan. Holding your hip down onto his thighs more precisely, he pulls you forward towards him. You gasp at the friction and your head drops forward, resting momentarily on Chan's neck. You can feel him growing against your thigh as it is pressed. Your breath is already getting irregular.

"Grind on my thighs, baby," Chan whispers into your ear and catches hold of your earlobe between his teeth.

On that cue, you press your core, dripping, further into his thighs and start grinding on him slowly.

"Chan, oh," your words ever so slowly turning into moans, each of a higher frequency than the previous one, "Oh my God."

Your voice is trembling. You can feel the sensation in your centre, spreading and vibrating through your whole body. You hold onto Chan's shoulder tighter than you already are. Your brain is slowly releasing oxytocin and endorphins. Bliss is all you feel. And Chan's thick thigh.

Chan lets out a deep grunt as he watches the sight before him. You are moving back and forth on his thighs and you look to have found heaven momentarily. Your face is washed with a look of pleasure as you moan his name over and over and over again as if he is the reason why you are breathing at this moment. Your eyes are shut tight and you rub yourself on his thighs. Chan can arguably say for sure that this is one of his favourite looks on your face.

Your right hand drops from his shoulder and you allow it to land on his covered girth. He was thick everywhere and you love it. You open your eyes, looking at Chan and letting him see how lost you are in seventh heaven. Chan helps you move quicker on his thigh subsequently as he pulls you back and forth. You grip on his covered shaft, giving it a few pumps as much as the covered denim permitted you to.

The air is soon filled with the sounds of your loud moans and his deep grunts. Your body is firmly grinding on his thighs. Your hand is pumping Chan and moving around his covered shaft rhythmically. Chan's hands, that are holding you down onto his thighs, are flexed which helps him guide you to grind on himself quicker. The friction from moving to and fro his tense thighs, that he flexed occasionally to emit a louder moan from you, sends waves of pleasure slowly through your clit.

"C-Chan," you screamed, not caring for anyone hearing you being a moaning mess, "I'm close. I'm so f-fucking close."

Chan's eyebrows quirk up. He knows that you are close. He has always known when you are close. Your lips quiver, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you tremble. Chan loves seeing you like this - like the moaning mess you are for him, unrestrained and loud.

He moves one of his hands. You let out a sigh at the loss of contact and you grip on his cock a little harder, rubbing it quicker. He slips one of his thumbs between your bodies to find your button.

"Aha," Chan smiles to himself on finding it and starts pressing on it, letting his thumb move in small circles, considering the limited space he had.

"Chan— fuck!" You moan and your head rolls backwards in sheer pleasure. "Oh my." You grip harder on his shoulders to balance yourself, your one hand still wrapped warmly around his manhood.

"Oh my fuck," you scream out loud, followed by the repeated chanting of his name when your climax hit you. You feel like your core is exploding and your eyes screw shut as you keep riding Chan's thigh sloppily.

"That's it, baby," Chan encourages you, whispering to you to continue. He grunts as he bucks into your hand that was wrapped around his cock. His one hand that is on your clit, now wraps around your hand, guiding you and helping you to squeeze him harder to reach his own high. Your head tilts slightly as you watch Chan's face slowly morph into one of extreme pleasure. He looks sinful, not that he normally doesn't.

You let out a whimper as his thighs move up along with his hips, providing more friction to your sensitive core. Your hand moves up and down his shaft, adjusting on how Chan's facial expressions changed. With a few hard thrusts from Chan himself into your hands, he finally explodes in his denim pants, the stain that is brought thanks to his precum, making its way bigger on the front and he emits a loud grunt. You watched in admiration how Chan thrusts a bit more into your hands.

Your bodies slowly halt in their movement. Your high subsides along with Chan's as your breath returns to normalcy. Chan leans forward to peck you on your lips lovingly, which is soon followed by a deep longing kiss. You pull away to face Chan who has leaned sideways to pick up the shirt of his that you had been wearing. He drapes it over you, pulling the open seams closer and lovingly caresses your face, with an expression of gratitude.

"That was perfect," he said, rubbing small circles with his thumbs on your skin at your hip. He looks at you with droopy eyes and a careened body.

"It felt amazing." You feel comfortable now, your head resting on his shoulder. Chan does not make your sexual fantasies seem weird. He never did and you feel blessed.

"I'm sorry," Chan cups your face and presses his forehead to yours. "I'm sorry for being so caught up with work that I haven't been paying much attention to you."

Chan looks sincerely into your eyes and you feel your heart warm up. This man loves you with no bounds and you love him for everything so much.

"It's alright," you tell him as you pull away and kiss his forehead. Chan and you stay like that for a while in each other's overwhelming presence. "I love you, Chan."

"So much more, Y/N," he hugs you warmly. Pulling you away, minutes later and holding you at an arm's length, Chan smiles stupidly at you with his eyes glistening.

"If ignoring you means this, I'm ready for this all over again," he sheepishly agrees and you laugh, flicking his forehead as you jokingly gasp. The room resonates your laughter accompanied by Chan's soon after — just two blessed souls with hearts next to each other.

"Asshole, why do I even adore you?"

[secretficblog]

Thinking about you for the entire mission

Chapter 1: Confiscated, Commander’s orders.

Eh yeah this is a working title, inspiration struck last night. 

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader ; Poe Dameron x You

No use of y/n 

This was gonna be an excessive smut dump but I got carried away so now it’ll be at least a two-parter. 

** Hi, it’s editing me, just posted this on ao3, too:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/29776950 **

Rating: E (use of swear words, description of sexual act, alcohol) 

Summary: You, Black Seven, part of Poe Dameron’s famed Black Squadron, have just returned from a rescue mission and the squad wants to celebrate. However, you just want to take a shower and work off some of the tension the last few weeks built up inside of you. You are ready to slip into bed after a nice shower when one handsome Captain shows up at your door drunk. 

You lifted yourself out of your X-Wing after a long flight back to the base. Damages had been minimal during the rescue mission the Black Squadron had flown today, only Black Three’s X-Wing had been hit and she was fine, from what you could tell from afar. Your legs where heavy and your bones were creaking when you finally hit the ground, jumping off the wing. You lifted the helmet off of your head, your hair was sticking to your face, damp and matted from the hours under the helmet. You looked around, breathing in the fresh air on the tarmac, it was good to be home. Your eyes traced over the stars in the distance and landed back on the ships in front of you, seeing people cheer and celebrate over the successful mission. 

Dameron was walking towards you, an easy cocky grin playing around his lips. “Black Seven”, he called out. To your irritation your heart jumped in your chest as he addressed you with your call sign. You were acutely hyper aware of the sweat and grime that had collected in your hair and on your face over the course of the mission. “Commander.”, you nodded curtly. “Listen, Seven, a few of us were gonna go grab a drink in the base cantina to celebrate a successful mission, shake off the tension a little, if you know what I mean…”, he smirked and your stomach flipped. You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, deepening the longer he looked at you. “I think I’m beat Dameron, gonna take a shower and hit my cot.” His smile didn’t falter but you noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore. “Alright sweetheart, see you around then!”, he said easily, squeezed your shoulder and strode off. The touch lingered a second longer than necessary, but not long enough to interpret anything into it. His walk was confident, every step he took seemed placed purposefully. It made you wonder if his touches were equally full of purpose. 

Your shoulder tingled and you could still feel the lasting warmth of his touch through the layers of your flight suit. You closed your eyes and sighed. It had been way too long since you had been touched in a friendly manner, even longer since someone dragged their fingertips over your bare skin, full of admiration and wonder. The way to the shower seemed shorter than it usually did with your head clouded with the fantasy of Dameron’s fingers ghosting over you face, your neck and your collarbone. You imagined he would be hungry for every inch of skin that was poking out under your flight suit. You really shouldn’t be thinking about this, he was your superior after all. You shook your head, slowly at first, gradually moving it faster as if that could clear your mind. 

However, as you stepped into the small refresher closest to your room the thoughts were still there, ever persistent and even intensifying. You cursed the fact that you hadn’t had a day off in ages, no chance to spend a night at the Resistance bars and take some random mechanic or officer, whoever was willing, back to bed with you, preferably in his room so that it was easier to sneak out in the morning. 

You just needed to ease the tension so something like the short touch of one Poe Dameron didn’t make you think of unspeakable things, how good the rough pads of his fingers would feel tracing over your breasts, circling your nipples, how beautiful his dark eyes would look even darker with lust when they gazed up at you from between your legs. 

Your mind snapped back to the task at hand and you slipped out of your dirtied flight suit, reaching to turn the water in the refesher on. Its strong stream felt amazing against your tense back muscles, working out all the kinks a day in the cockpit had given you. You decided to take your time tonight, knowing that almost everyone was out celebrating and there was no rush. You scrubbed off most part of the grime before sitting down on the small indent in the wall, leaning your legs up one by one to shave them, a little luxury you allowed yourself every once in a while during your time in the Black Squadron. 

There wasn’t much room for self-care in the rebellion, but you liked to steal those little moments for yourself, like sinking underneath your covers after a risky mission, feeling completely clean and smooth, the feeling of your legs sliding against the cold blanket was like heaven after a long day. After you were done shaving you stood back up, lathering your hair in shampoo and scrubbing your scalp before rinsing it off thoroughly. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you were almost certain that everyone was still celebrating, so you decided to sneak back into your room without getting fully dressed again. The towel was loosely wrapped around your chest, falling over your hips and barely covering your butt. 

You gathered your clothes and opened the door of the refresher, looking forward to dropping the towel as soon as you stepped into the room, slipping into your bed and touching yourself to dark eyes, curly dark hair, the low hum of his voice and the feeling of Dameron’s touch. You weren’t proud of it, you really weren’t. It wasn’t him. No way it was. You just needed some inspiration and he had unintentionally given it to you with a slight squeeze of your shoulder and the sparkle in his eyes when he called you sweetheart. Of course you were friends, as much as you could find friends in the middle of a war, always afraid to form attachments and feel the sting of loss when the inevitable happened. You wanted to feel gross when thinking about your superior like that, but the deep sound of his voice made you feel something else instead.

You opened the door to your room through a little keypad that required you to enter your personal code. You dropped your clothes into the laundry bin, your other hand already starting to pull at the fastening of your towel. It dropped on the floor with a slight thud before you realized you hadn’t heard the door slide shut behind you. You turned around, snarl on your face and ready to punch the panel in the wall for its malfunction when your eyes fixated on the door.

 Someone had shoved a dusty boot in between, forcing the door to stop and slide back open. You bend down to hastily pull up your towel while the door was still sliding back open. You focused on the person standing in your door frame, all insults you were ready to hurl at them dying down on your tongue when you saw the same person that had been occupying your mind for the last hour or so illuminated by the dim light of the corridor. 

Poe kriffing Dameron.

He was looking at you, his gaze slightly unfocused. He had one arm propped up against the frame, swaying slightly. Oh, he was drunk. And he was here. In front of your room, smelling like Corellian Whiskey, looking disheveled. “He-eey Black Seven, missed you at the celebration. Did you not want to cheer for me, sweetheart?” Ah there it was, the other reason why you didn’t want him to be part of your fantasies. The man was insufferably in love with himself, he knew all about the effect he had on people around him, women and men alike. Every movement he made dripped with self-confidence. 

You cleared your throat, clutching the towel tighter against your chest, uncertain how much it was actually still covering. “Dameron, you’re drunk.”, you retorted. Sure, you’ve made better comebacks before but it’s not every kriffing day Poe “Hotter Than The Binary Suns” Dameron shows up in front of your door in his casual clothes while you are basically naked. Boy, did he look good like that, a white shirt with a wide, open collar and tight black pants with the brown boots you had already noticed. A weapons belt was slung around his hips, underlining their curve, his blaster dangling off of it lazily. His skin was glistening with sweat in the low light. You wondered what he would taste like.

“’m not that drunk, you should be drunker. Would be if you came to the thing.”

 “Commander”, you said, emphasizing the word and ignoring the way it made your pussy clench, “you are very drunk and very unprofessional right now and I would like to get dressed.”, you said, shifting the towel again to make him aware of your state of undress. 

His eyes looked like they darkened even more, but you must be imagining that. Poe Dameron could have almost anyone on base without even asking, there was no reason for him to be interested in you. Must be the alcohol. 

He took a cautious but wobbly step forward and asked “Can I come in?” 

“You’re already halfway in.”, you grunted. 

“That’s not a no, sweet thing.” 

“Would you stop calling me that?” 

“Calling you what?” 

“Sweetheart, Sweet Thing, Honeybuns, whatever else you say”

 “But I bet you are sweet!” 

“Dameron.” 

“Bet you taste even sweeter.”, he continued lowly 

“DAMERON!”, you wanted to yell but it came out as an angry hushed whisper. 

“mhh yes sweet cheeks?”, he asked cheerily. 

“You are drunk, you are going to regret this in the morning, you’ll be embarrassed.”, you listed off everything in your head that might keep him from coming closer. This was wrong. He was drunk and you were just horny from the weeks of endless missions without breaks to let off some steam. For all you knew he had knocked on the wrong door by accident. 

“Been thinking about you for the entire mission baby, not going to regret shit.” The entire mission? Surely you must have misheard that. 

His smell hit you when he took another slow step towards you, he smelled like whiskey, gunpowder and leather, but there was something else underneath, something so decisively him that it made your legs weak and your nipples harden. He took another step, slightly more wobbly now that he couldn’t support himself on the walls anymore. He was so close to you now, close enough for you to be able to count the little gold specs in his dark eyes, you cranked your neck, trying to do exactly that. 

Poe had most likely miscalculated the distance and tried to take another step forward, bumping directly into you. You raised your arms in shock, momentarily forgetting all about your towel. You didn’t even realized that it had slipped until you heard the soft thud of it hitting the floor. 

“Oh”, you said, still lost in Poe’s twinkling eyes. His eyes flicked down for just a split second and widened comically. You could feel his hot gaze on your breasts, ghosting over your hard nipples. He slapped his hands in front of his eyes, then twirled around and hit the control panel on the wall, closing the sliding door. You bent down to retrieve the towel and secured it around your chest once more.

 “Can I turn around again?”, he asked, voice much more hesitant than before.

 You sighed, “Why are you in here Dameron?” 

“Missed you at the thing. Wanted to tell you you did good, saved my pretty ass out there once or twice today.” 

“I save your pretty ass all the time.” 

“So you agree?”, he asked and while he still had his back turned to you, you could feel the cocky grin spreading over his face. 

“Agree with what?”, you questioned. 

“I have a pretty ass!” 

“Will you drink some water and go to bed if I say yes?” 

“Sure thing sugar plum!” 

“You, Commander Poe ‘Insufferably Annoying’ Dameron, have a very pretty ass.” 

“I know, so do you!”, he grinned. Then he did the unthinkable and turned around, brushed past you on the way to the small sink in your room, took a big gulp of water and then, kriffing then, flopped down on your bed. 

“Excuse me? Get out.”, you squeaked. 

“Had my water. Went to bed.” 

“This is my bed.” 

“Mh. Confiscated. Commander’s orders.”, he smiled lazily, legs still dangling off the bed. 

He grabbed a pillow and stuffed it between his head and the wall. You could see him inhale deeply, eyes fluttering shut. Was he… smelling your pillow? You knew Corellian Whiskey was one hell of a drink but you had never seen him so guardless before. Sure, he was always flirty but his relaxed posture, legs dangling slightly, head leaned back, was something else. He shifted forward, pulling his worn leather boots off. 

“Hey Seven, don’t you want to get comfy too?” Something told you he wasn’t going to budge and there was no way you would move him back to his own bunk, your back was already killing you from the mission. 

“Fine, fine, cover your eyes I’m getting dressed.” Poe obliged, slapping his hands in front of his eyes. 

“No peaking, take the pillow, or the blanket”, you insisted. 

He put his heels on the bed frame, shoulders still pushed against the wall and thrust up his hips to pull out the blanket underneath. You couldn’t help yourself and fixated your eyes on the bulge between his legs that was hugged tightly by his pants. 

He had pulled the blanket over his eyes now, but you were standing still, lost in your fantasies. 

Your mouth watered thinking about what he would feel like on your tongue, how the first bead of precum out of his achingly hard cock would taste, the sounds he would make underneath you when you stared up at him with his cock in your mouth. You wondered if he was going to curse or praise you for taking it well. You thought it might be both. 

Poe tugged the blanket down a little, whining “You aren’t done yet. You haven’t even moved. Do you want me to suffocate under your blanket, Seven, is that what you’re hoping for?”

You blinked. 

“Sorry, I’ll be done in a sec.” 

He pulled the blanket up again, but not before he gave you a big pout with his plushy lips. You wondered what they would feel like sucking bruises into your skin. 

That’s enough, you reminded yourself. He was drunk and you wouldn’t take advantage of that. You could last another day without cumming. This was fine. Tomorrow was an off-day anyway, you’d just spend part of it in bed. A bed that might, depending on if you were able to convince him to leave, smell like Dameron tomorrow. 

You turned towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. You could hear Poe shift behind you, but you had already pulled the pants up and you didn’t really care if he saw your naked back so you didn’t bother to chastise him for looking.

 When you turned back around, still in the motion of pulling the top over your stomach, you saw that he hadn’t shifted the blanket to look at you. Well, maybe he had initially, but now Captain Poe Dameron was curled into himself on your bed, breathing evening out and face relaxed. He looked soft and young like this, lacking the tension in his shoulders. War was hard on him too, you knew that, he was just good at keeping up the cheery and cheeky facade. 

“Hey”, you started softly, “Dameron, hey, you need to go into your own bed.” 

He smacked his lips sleepily and scooted closer to the wall “’s enough room”, he mumbled, patting the mattress lazily. 

You were tired, exhaustion seeping into your bones, that’s why you sat down. No other reason. 

It was your bed and there was no way you would be able to haul him out. That’s why you laid down without protest. No other reason. 

He was warm and smelled nice. That’s why you didn’t move away when he shifted closer to you. No other reason. 

You had been craving human touch for weeks. That’s why you sighed softly when he circled an arm around your waist and melted into the embrace. No other reason. 

Your missions had been exhausting recently and sleep and breaks had been rare. That’s why you drifted off into the deepest, most relaxing sleep in a long time, surrounded by the warmth of Poe Dameron and his smell. No other reason.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Alrighty so there’s that, hope you guys enjoyed it. I’ll definetly be writing a more naked, more explicit part 2 about the morning after. I’d love it if you left some feedback, good or bad just don’t be mean. Bye guys xx

Chapter 2 is here , hope you love it 

[stayextrafrosty]

I Am Your Future, I Am Your Past: Chapter 12

A Roswell New Mexico Soulmate AU

AN: I’m so sorry for not updating this. I hit a bit of a wall but had some lovely friends help me out. I’m starting to plan the rest of the story and it’s looking like it’ll be between 23-25 chapters. So hey! Halfway point! Anyway... thank you for reading and being patient with me!

Read on AO3 // Masterlist // Chapter 1

-

Alex checked the rearview mirror to make sure Michael was still behind him. He grinned and shook his head at how close he was tailing. Alex wasn’t one for road rage but even he was tempted to hit the brakes, just to freak him out a little bit.

Alex looked down at the map spread on his passenger seat. The reception would be spotty until they got to the cabin and hooked up the Wi-Fi. They should be coming up on the “driveway” soon. It was a hunting cabin left to him by Jim Valenti that he would visit with Kyle when he was young. The trees and boulders scattered around provided more than enough cover to play hide and seek.

He finally saw the small worn sign signaling the beginning of private property. He signaled and slowed down, remembering the trench that was near impossible to see just off the road. His car would be ok but would Michael’s old truck?

They hadn’t passed another car in at least ten minutes. He released a breath of relief that Forrest – or anyone else – hadn’t followed them. Then again, his father never knew about the cabin. Jim always kept it a secret between them.

The dust kicked up and obscured Alex’s view of Michael but he could see the dust from his truck in the side mirror. Five minutes later, the cabin came into view and Alex noted the young chinaberry tree he had selected to get some shade on the property. The leaves still a beautiful green even as the season was coming to an end.

He slowed as he pulled up. Putting the car in park, he stared at the small house. The wood rack on the side of the cabin was filled with wood left over from the landscaping. His eyes ran over the solar panels on the roof and down to the porch. He stared at the front door. He would be living here for who knew how long. Alone. With Michael.

Michael’s truck rumbled up next to him, pulling him from his daydream. Alex folded the map and put it back in the glove box before stepping out of the car. He walked up the steps without looking at Michael, pushing the key in the lock and opening the door.

The place would need to be dusted but most of the furniture was covered with white cloth. He felt Michael’s body heat step up behind him. He still jumped when his fingers brushed his arm. Alex moved in further, trying to seem as natural as possible.

“Start pulling covers off of things and I’ll get the power going,” Alex said, heading to the back storage room. He didn’t hear a reply from Michael but he felt the confusion through the mark. But if Alex could feel the confusion, couldn’t Michael feel his nerves?

His reaction to Forrest this morning had been real. He was beyond pissed but the feelings had already taken root. He was searching for a reason to forgive him. But he had kissed Michael a few days ago and it wasn’t as though he regret it. It felt more right than anything else but he wasn’t entirely convinced that it wasn’t residual feelings from the vision they shared.

He pulled open the fuse box and started flipping switches. His eyes landed on the spot where Michael had kissed his hand. It felt like it was burned into his skin. He shook his head and continued messing with the fuses.

Alex flipped the last switch. Nothing happened for a moment. Suddenly sparks flew as the fuse short circuited. He jerked his hand away but the sparks burned his skin and he hissed in pain. He cursed under his breath as he held his hand to his chest. The pain faded quickly and he looked down, not a single burn was left.

He spun and rushed back to the main room where Michael would be. His eyes scanned the room and he saw Michael sitting on the couch, jaw clenched and gripping his hand, watching the burns appear.

“Michael! I’m so sorry. Come on, we need to run that under some water,” Alex rushed out, grabbing his arm. He followed without protest to the kitchen sink. Alex turned on the water and listened to the pipes groan before water spat out.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Alex, but it’s just a small burn. I’ve gotten worse working on cars,” Michael teased gently. Alex ignored him and grabbed his hand carefully, pulling it under the cold water.

They were both silent as the water ran. Alex’s heart raced at the warmth of Michael’s skin under his fingers. The heat rose to his cheeks as he pulled the cabinets open, looking for a towel. He pulled one out and shut the water off, handing it to Michael. He hurried to the lone bathroom in the bedroom where the first aid kit was.

Alex spun to go back to the kitchen and ran into a firm body. Michael’s hands held on to his waist, keeping him from stumbling back. Alex looked at his face for the first time since they arrived. Michael’s gaze burned as he glanced down. His heart pounded in his chest, just like Alex’s.

“Why are you avoiding me?” he asked.

“I’m not,” Alex insisted, though he could hear the lie in his own voice.

Michael didn’t say anything back. Just released him and walked out of the bathroom. Alex’s shoulders dropped with a sigh. Being around Michael was like all the air was ripped from his lungs. The only solution his brain could ever come up with was to step closer until they were breathing together.

Alex followed him out, glancing at the bed in the middle of the bedroom. He and Kyle had always slept on air mattresses in the living room. He hadn’t considered that he and Michael would have to share the bed. He shook his head. He would have to sleep on the couch.

“Michael, let me bandage your hand,” Alex said as he stepped back out the front door.

“It’s fine, Manes.” His last name was like a slap in the face. Wasn’t he the one who said he didn’t want to do that anymore? He yanked the passenger side door on his truck open, pulling out his bag and box of stuff. Alex stared at the truck as he kicked the door closed and walked past him.

He blinked a few times before turning and following him back inside. What had he done to piss him off? Alex didn’t want to think it was just because of the slight avoiding.

“Michael—”

“Is your car still unlocked? I’ll grab your things,” he said, cutting him off. Without waiting for an answer, he was walking back out the door.

Alex clenched his fists. Why wouldn’t Michael just talk to him? He heard the slamming of car doors and soon Michael was carrying in his bag and headed to the bedroom. Alex followed him again.

“Hey,” he tried again.

“I’ll stay on the couch. And I can run back to town for food.” Michael tried to push past him.

Alex’s nose twitched and he grabbed the door, slamming it shut before Michael could leave. He jumped and raised an eyebrow at him. Alex stared him down, refusing to be the one to look away first.

“What are you so mad about,” Alex demanded. Michael scoffed and shook his head.

“Seriously? I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone do such a complete one eighty on their feelings. One minute you’re furiously protective and the next you’re horrified at the idea of even being around me.”

“Where the hell did you get that idea?”

“You avoided me and then tried to lie about it. Message received loud and clear. I feel everything, Alex. I can make an educated guess about what you’re thinking.” Michael grabbed his hat off his head and ran a hand through his hair. “You regret yelling at Forrest. Because fuck you actually still have feelings for the guy. After everything he did. So just forget it.”

Alex was frozen. Only moving to allow Michael to leave the room. He didn’t understand how Michael could have such a clear picture of his emotions when Alex could barely pick up on his. He gripped his shirt over the mark and heard the truck start outside.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus. He tried to reach out mentally. To decipher which emotions were his and which were Michael’s. Everything was tangled together but it was like two different colors. Alex a vibrant blue and Michael a muted green.

He picked through the anger and confusion. Separating the betrayal and the annoyance, the desire and love. The love… swimming in the background of every emotion, refusing to be separated.

-

A week passed in discomfort. Alex and Michael talked but never about anything important. Michael slept on the couch and refused to let Alex take a turn, insisting that he’d be a terrible person to make the one missing a leg sleep on the ‘lumpy piece of crap.’

So Alex moved around the kitchen, emptying the case of eggs to make a couple omelets for them both. Michael groaned from the couch, blanket tossed lazily over the lower half of his body. Alex had gotten used to seeing him shirtless but he still couldn’t control his heart if he let himself stare too long.

“I told you that you could sleep in the bed,” Alex called to him as he sprinkled cheese onto the eggs.

“And I told you that I wasn’t going to let you sleep on the couch,” he responded with a grunt. His bare feet padded up behind Alex before shifting to walk to the fridge. Alex glanced at his back and let his eyes follow the muscles to where his pajama pants started. Then he refocused on the food in the pan.

“We could just share the bed you know. It’s not like it’s small.” The silence that followed the suggestion was almost enough to make him want to take it back. The food sizzled and Alex shifted it with the spatula.

“I figured you would rather not. You can hardly stand to be in the same space as me.”

Alex sighed. He was still convinced that he was avoiding him. And maybe he had been but it was over now. Alex couldn’t avoid him when they had to live together. The easiest way to get through this was if they were at least friendly. Friends could share beds. Girls do it all the time. At least, according to Liz, Rosa, and Maria.

“Michael. Believe it or not, I do enjoy your company,” Alex snapped. He hadn’t meant for it come out as harsh as it did but this argument had been going on since the first day. Even though they had hardly discussed it. Enough was enough.

“Oh yea, that’s convincing.”

“Well maybe if you stopped being a jackass for a second and listened to me. You can read my emotions Michael, not my thoughts. And I think you’ve severely misinterpreted them.” Alex shut off the stove and placed the eggs on a plate before turning toward Michael. HE stood with his arms crossed, a slight frown settled firmly onto his face.

“Well enlighten me. What have I misinterpreted?” he bit out sarcastically. Alex shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sighed before he started speaking.

“I care about Forrest, yes.” Michael scoffed and began to turn away. Alex grabbed his arm. “We were friends Michael. Probably on our way to something more. What did you want me to do? Sit and wait patiently for you to decide I’m worth it? You rejected me. And I don’t blame you for that. We didn’t exactly leave things in a good place.”

“Friends?” Michael laughed. “You knew him for maybe a week.”

“From what I remember we only knew each other for about that long back in high school.” Michael’s eye twitched as he looked away from Alex. “Michael. I care about you. There is no doubt in my mind about that. But I can’t shake this feeling that maybe it’s just left over from the visions.”

Alex watched Michael’s eyes soften. He released his arm hesitantly, hoping that he wouldn’t bolt for the door. Michael ran a hand through his hair before leaning back against the counter.

“I’m not avoiding you. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to feel around you.” Michael’s gaze seemed to turn intense. Alex couldn’t help but blush.

“Why don’t you try explaining it,” Michael said.

Alex turned away from him, grabbing the food he had made and bringing it to the table. He set it down in front of their respective chairs before sitting down himself. Michael followed suit, sitting across from Alex. He pushed his food around with the fork, debating how to explain this. Couldn’t Michael just read him? Wasn’t that the point of the mark?

“I… I’m nervous. Being around you has always made me nervous. And it’s even worse now.” He started.

“Why?” Alex felt naked. It was a reasonable follow up question but he was terrified at the answer. He couldn’t even lie to make it less awkward.

“Because feeling you… your emotions. They’re so clear all the time and I… I hate knowing that mine are the exact same way for you.”

“So you search for any wall you can put between us. And right now that happens to be Forrest.” Alex looked up at him briefly before refocusing on the food.

“Yes,” he mumbled. “This curse pushes us together. And me wanting you this badly… it can’t be natural.”

It was silent for a while. Neither of them eating a single bite of food. Alex froze as Michael’s chair scraped across the floor. His bare feet padded along the wood until he stood next to him. Alex looked up at him, heart pounding. Michael brushed his fingers over the mark beneath Alex’s shirt. His breath caught in his throat.

“And yet you’re the one thing that does come naturally to me.”

Then Michael stepped away, taking the breath from Alex’s lungs with him. He left the food on his plate as he walked toward the master bedroom. After a few minutes, Alex could hear the water of the shower. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Why do you have to say things like that?” he mumbled to himself.

He picked at his food for a few minutes, just listening to the water running in the background. Eventually he stood and put both plates in the fridge, figuring they would want to eat later. Had that conversation even solved anything? He still didn’t know how to talk to Michael and his own feelings didn’t magically make sense.

Alex walked to the front room and sat on the floor for his daily stretches. He grimaced but pushed himself down anyway, pulling his legs into a butterfly position. He took deep breaths as he counted to ten, only flinching once.

He was on his back, pulling his leg into his chest when the water stopped. The idea of stopping never crossing his mind. His eyes closed to concentrate on his breathing and pain management. Alex had shifted to his other leg when Michael wandered back into the front room. Alex felt his pulse jump.

Alex opened his eyes to look at him. His hungry eyes could have started a fire under his skin. His hands gripped the t-shirt he was holding. Alex cleared his throat and pushed himself into a sitting position. Water dripped from Michael’s curls onto his chest and Alex felt his mouth go dry.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Michael teased. Alex hoped the blush on his face wasn’t visible.

“I was done anyway.” Alex would have stood up by himself. He was more than capable. But Michael wordlessly offered his hand, black t-shirt tossed over his shoulder. He wanted to smile and say ‘no thanks, I can do it’ but he grabbed Michael’s hand instead.

Michael pulled him up faster than he was expecting, making him stumble forward. Michael’s free hand landed on his hip, keeping him steady. Alex couldn’t look away from his eyes. At least not until he found himself tracing the lines down to his mouth and the way they were just slightly parted.

Michael’s hand was warm and Alex guessed his lips were too. He wanted to close the distance but wasn’t sure if it would be welcome. He looked back up at Michael’s eyes, getting lost in the golden brown. Michael’s thumb slipped under the hem of his shirt, rubbing over his skin gently.

Michael was the first to pull away, clearing his throat as he did. He moved back toward the kitchen, pulling the shirt over his head. Alex just stared at the spot where he stood. He should have known better than to think their conversation would have fixed anything. Did Alex even want to kiss him again?

Yes. I want him.

He shook his head and walked into the bedroom for his own shower. He couldn’t trust his own desires. If it wasn’t real, then what? If they broke this curse and Michael felt nothing for him, could he really live with that? Or what if his own feelings vanished and he hurt Michael? He couldn’t handle that either.

It would be best for them to stay separate for now.

-

There was no way Alex didn’t know what he was doing. Michael tapped his fingers on the counter as the microwave spun. Alex talked about his stretches but always did them while Michael was out. Watching the way his muscles moved under his clothes was more than he could take. He almost turned right back around for another cold shower.

He hadn’t expected Alex to actually accept his help when he offered it. So he pulled harder than he meant to and there they were. Face to face and Michael wanted more than anything to close that distance. Alex had wanted it too. But based on the conversation they had, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

The beeping of the microwave pulled him back from the daydream. He groaned and pulled the food out. He supposed he couldn’t blame Alex for thinking the way he did. It was even possible that he was right. No one knew how the curse worked.

He ate his food slowly, listening to the water running and opening himself to feel Alex’s heart. He glanced toward the cracked bedroom door, just visible from where he was sitting. His phone buzzed in his pocket with a text from Izzy.

How’s the honeymoon?

Michael’s heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t what this was. Sure Alex had agreed to it but he knew how he hated being trapped. Work could only occupy so much of his time and surfing the web was never really his thing.

It’s hiding Iz. Not exactly fun. He messaged back.

Have you guys at least figured out that whole consummation thing?

He stared at the message. It was obvious what they needed to do. But something like that…

Michael was comfortable with casual sex. Always had been. But with Alex it could never be just casual. He couldn’t ask Alex to do that just for the sake of maybe ending the curse without going through all the trials. Not to mention that Michael’s heart wouldn’t be able to handle having him once and then never again. He had denied himself for seven years. It was only easy now because he was used to it. But his control was withering every day.

No. He sent back.

If he told Isobel, he didn’t trust it wouldn’t get back to Maria. She was smart and had probably figured it out already but he didn’t want to hurt her by hearing it from a person she didn’t even like.

Look, do I need to send DeLuca over there to get your ass in gear? I swear she’s more invested in this than you are.

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose but couldn’t help but help smiling. She really was amazing. He only hoped that someone else would see it eventually. Someone just as strong to be her partner.

I’ll talk to Alex. He mentioned having some theories. No need to have her make a special trip.

His phone was silent after that. He wondered if Alex would be willing to look into the stone again. Maybe there was something they missed. Maybe it didn’t have to be sex. But calling forth the spirits of Samuel and Thomas was exactly what was making Alex hesitant. Going back in would only push them further apart.

The sound of water no longer came from the bedroom. Michael stood to clean his plate before Alex came back out. He hurried out the front door, needing to think about how he would talk to Alex about it. He laughed at himself as he stepped off the front porch. Of course it was sex. That was how these stories always went.

The sunlight made him squint as he moved to the side of the cabin where all the wood was stacked. An axe leaned against the wood next to the pile. Most of the logs probably didn’t need to be cut but he needed an excuse.

He moved to grab the axe just below the window. It was when he looked through the small crack in the chiffon drapes that he knew he was done for. Alex’s bare back moved fluidly. There was no doubt he had muscles but he was still soft. Michael wondered if he would still make the small whine he used to when he squeezed his hips.

Michael tore his eyes away before he got too lost in thought. His jeans were quickly becoming too tight. He cursed under his breath and grabbed the first piece of wood on top of the pile.

-

The next couple days came and went, and Michael still hadn’t brought up the idea of the consummation or what they should tell Isobel. He had caught Alex looking at him curiously a few times but he never said anything either. He was running out of time. Eventually Isobel would come storming through the door demanding to know the details of the vision.

Alex was frowning at his laptop when Michael pulled out the chair to sit across from him. He only glanced up a moment before refocusing on his work. Michael just sighed and pushed the lid of the laptop down slightly.

“We need to talk.” Michael watched as Alex’s shoulders stiffened. He closed the computer gently before leaning forward on his arms.

“About what?” Alex asked. Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“The vision, Alex. Isobel wants to know how to break this curse. What do you want to tell her?” Alex looked away from him, his heart rate jumping.

“Maybe it’s not what we think it is,” Alex offered unconvincingly. He picked at his nails and his nerves were overwhelming any other emotion Michael might be able to read.

“Did you want to go back into the vision?”

The blush on Alex’s face was cute. Michael would never get tired of seeing it. But this wasn’t the time to focus on it. Alex’s embarrassment told him all he needed to know. Going back into the vision wasn’t the answer.

“We have to come up with something, Alex. Isobel already threatened to send Maria to help us figure it out.” The guilt that swept over his face made Michael’s heart ache. Not that he didn’t feel guilty about it but he couldn’t ignore his feelings for Alex.

“Just tell her to keep it a secret,” he finally said. Michael watched the way his hand clenched and wanted nothing more than to be able to reach over and grab it.

“Isobel? Keeping a secret?” Michael tried, joking. The glare he received in response reminded him just how close Alex and Maria were. He let his tone turn serious again. “I can ask her to keep it but I can’t promise anything. I know you don’t want Maria to know because neither do I. But eventually we won’t have a choice.”

Alex stared at the table, the wrinkle between his eyebrows only getting deeper. Michael tuned in as much as he could to the emotions swirling between them. He only wished that the uncomfortable tension that permeated everything could be broken.

“Do you…” Alex started. His fingers began tapping on the table. The embarrassment was front and center again. “Do you want to… consummate?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

There it was. Out in the open. Michael wanted him but if it was under the guise of ‘consummation’…

“No.” Alex jumped at the suddenness of his voice and a quick flash of hurt swept through him. “If we’re going to sleep together, I want it to be real. Us. Not some means to an end.” Alex looked away from him, seeming to bite his tongue. “What are you thinking?” Alex was right when he called him out for making assumptions about Forrest. And maybe this communication thing worked better than guessing.

“Will it ever be ‘us’? Isn’t all of this a means to an end?” Michael’s heart panged with hurt. Hadn’t he made his feelings clear that night they saw the vision?

“We came here for protection, true. But even if it was safer to be apart, I don’t think I could stay away from you.” Alex shoved his seat back and jumped up, groaning as he ran his hands through his hair. He paced around the kitchen, sounding angry but Michael couldn’t miss the way his heart fluttered.

“Stop. You can’t keep talking like that.” Alex yelled. Michael stood slowly and slipped his hands into his pockets as he stepped toward Alex.

“Like what?”

“Like you fucking care about me!” Alex spun to face him again, glaring. “You say these things that I don’t know what to do with! And your damn heart…”

“Why is it so hard to believe that I care? That I’ve cared for the last ten years?” Alex stepped back as Michael moved forward. Eventually Alex’s back hit the counter. His eyes jumped everywhere except to Michael’s face until he was standing right in front of him.

“Don’t…” he mumbled out halfheartedly.

“Only if you stop lying to yourself.”

Michael trapped him between his arms, his shallow breaths brushing over his lips. He kept leaning forward slowly. If Alex really wanted him to stop he would. But instead of pushing him away, Alex’s hands landed on his hips. His fingers trembled and Michael watched his eyelashes flutter closed. Their foreheads pressed together. Michael could feel both of their hearts racing as their lips brushed over each other.

A loud knocking on the front door made them jump apart. They both panted as they watched each other. Michael waited for the person to go away, his fingers twitching as the desire to touch Alex only grew. More knocking, then a voice.

“Alex! Michael! Open up,” Maria called. They were both frozen. Michael replayed the conversation they just had in his head. He couldn’t believe Isobel would actually send her.

Alex moved first. Composing his face and hurrying to open the door. Michael stared at the space on the counter. The squeak of the door opening made him turn around. He could only hope his face wasn’t covered in guilt.

Maria pulled Alex into a hug. He held her tightly for a moment, a gentle smile settling on his face.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see you. But why are you here?” Alex asked.

“Isobel said you two were dawdling on figuring out your visions so I’m here to help. I am a psychic after all,” she said, winking. She looked toward Michael and he could almost watch her thought process play out on her face. How she was supposed to react to seeing him. But eventually she just grinned and moved further into the cabin, looking around.

“This place is much nicer than I was led to believe. How long have you kept this a secret, Manes? Why didn’t we use this to get drunk and smoke in high school?” Alex just laughed and shook his head.

“Uh, probably because in high school, Jim Valenti still used it regularly and he was the sheriff.”

“Got a point there.” Maria shoved the blankets and pillow to one side of the couch before plopping down. “Michael I sincerely hope you aren’t making Alex sleep out here on the couch.” Michael just rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“Actually Alex sleeps on the floor. No bed in this place.” Her look of disapproval just made him smile more. “Come on DeLuca, who do you take me for?” She just shrugged and crossed her legs.

“Apart from the sleeping arrangements, did you bring a book or something to help us decipher the visions?” Michael watched as Alex tried to hide the fidgeting of his hands. His own heart rate speeding up to match.

“I did bring books but I just figured you could tell me what the visions were and I could point out common metaphors and connections. It would make things go a lot faster then all of us sitting here in silence reading.”

Alex glanced at Michael. They had agreed to tell Isobel. Did they really want to make this leap? He thought on his feet. He wanted Alex to make the decision about when to tell her. They were best friends after all.

“When did you get so close to my cousin anyway? You two always hated each other.” Now, he could have been wrong but he swore he saw her blush. She shrugged it off quickly.

“Hate is a strong word, Guerin. And since all this curse stuff, she’s been weirdly helpful and almost nice.” Alex sat down next to her on the couch while Michael plopped down in the rocking chair across from them.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever. Michael was trying to control how often he looked at Alex, only noticing it because Maria was there. She glanced between the two of them and sighed before pulling a book from the bag she had brought with her.

“We can sit here all day. But I’m not leaving until we figure this out.” Alex scratched his head before taking a breath and speaking.

“It’s just… the visions are… Personal. You shouldn’t be subject to that,” he said, trying to dissuade her.

“Look. I know you two better than anyone. Nothing you tell me could possibly be that bad.”

“It’s not bad, per say…” Alex trailed off.

“The visions aren’t us. They’re the original pair of Samuel and Thomas. And their feelings for each other… they’re intense,” Michael continued for him. Maria raised an eyebrow and leaned forward.

“What’s your point?”

“It’s often a lot of stuff that wouldn’t be talked about…” Alex tried again.

“Oh for fucks sake,” she exclaimed. Both Michael and Alex jumped at the outburst. They shared a surprised look. “Sop walking on eggshells around me. I love you both. Truly. But watching you try to spare my feelings by hiding your own just makes it that much more obvious.”

Alex wrung his hands together, refusing to meat Michael’s eyes. He could only sigh and face Maria again, who just looked annoyed.

“I’m sorry. I should know better than to hide things from you.” She just grinned and leaned back, crossing her arms.

“You already know what it is don’t you? This consummation?” Michael just nodded. Maria sighed and pushed herself up from the couch. “Well then get your ass on the phone with Isobel because quite frankly, I’m done dealing with her pacing and ranting about what a terrible team player you are.” The floorboards squeaked under her boots as she moved toward the kitchen.

Michael looked back over to Alex. His eyes were focused on something a million miles away. His emotions swirled around him, as though he were trying to keep them to himself. Everything was out in the open. They had been called out by the one person they were both lying to.

“You guys keep any food or do I have to make it?” Maria asked as she opened the fridge. Michael stood and moved to the cabinets, shuffling through them. He finally found the one with the snack food and stepped to the side.

“There’s some protein bars and cookies in here but otherwise you have to make the food.”

-

Maria hung around for the day. She didn’t press for more information about the consummation but the looks she was shooting at both of them made Alex’s nerves spike every time. She knew. There was no way that she didn’t.

She didn’t seem mad. Quite the opposite actually. She seemed lighter and more free than he had seen her in a while. The stress of trying to figure out this cure was taking toll on all of them and her most of all. Alex knew that Maria loved both of them. He was sure having the two people she’s closest to in constant danger of dying wasn’t an easy thing to deal with.

Michael had gone grocery shopping. Alex offered to come with and every time Michael said no and left without waiting for him to respond. It was annoying but he was sure the reason would be something about his protection.

Instead he and Maria played cards. She had always been weirdly good at poker.

“There’s no way you aren’t cheating,” Alex joked, tossing his cards to the table.

“Sorry babe. This is all natural talent.” He rolled his eyes at her and pushed the small pile of quarters toward her.

“I guess I should just be happy you didn’t want to play strip poker.” She fluttered her eyelashes to an exaggerated degree.

“As beautiful as you are Alex, you’re not really my type anymore.” Alex just snorted and started shuffling the deck again.

Another few games brought just as much success as the others. That is to say, ‘none.’ Maria let herself do a small happy dance that Alex noticed resembled Liz. They had been hanging out a lot more and he felt terrible for how little he saw them.

“Hey…” Alex started hesitantly. Maria’s expression turned serious almost instantly. She placed the cards to side and leaned forward.

“It’s ok you know.” Alex met her gaze. She just smiled before continuing, “It’s ok that you like him. I probably knew somewhere deep down that we weren’t meant to last. He was always just out of reach. Holding something back.” He rushed to shake his head and he grabbed her hand.

“No. Michael loves you. And he will always love with everything he has.” Her sad smile broke his heart. The guilt ate at his gut. He couldn’t do this to her. He and Michael couldn’t do this to her.

“As true as that may be, it’s hard to give everything when you’ve already given it to someone else.”

“Maria…”

“And that’s ok, ya know? I want him to be happy. And I want you to be happy. And if you are happy together then who am I to tell you ‘no?’”

Alex stood and moved to stand next to her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her from her chair and into a hug. Her arms wrapped around his waist firmly. He smiled against her hair, wondering how he got so lucky to have her as a best friend. She pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek and wiped a stray tear from her eye.

“Someone is going to come along and give you the world.” She chuckled and straightened her back.

“Oh please. No one needs to give it to me when I can just get it myself.” Alex laughed and hugged her again.

The sun dipped below the horizon, splashing vibrant purples and pinks across the sky, eventually fading to blue-black. Alex pulled Maria outside to the fire pit in the back of the house. He was building a log cabin out of logs when he heard the rumble of Michael’s truck. Maria offered to go help him with the groceries and left Alex to light the fire.

A gentle breeze blew across the desert, tangling his hair. He would need to cut it soon. He wasn’t technically out of the service and that demanded he keep it a certain length, even if he liked it a bit longer.

He picked up a fire starter and laughed at himself. If he really wanted to, he could do without it. But he did like the convenience of not needing to survive. He crouched down and picked up the lighter after placing some small kindling in with the starter. It burned fast and jumped to the nearby logs. Alex just watched as the flames licked up the sides of the mini cabin he had built.

Dizziness swept over him, making him fall backwards into the dirt. The fire seemed to burn brighter as the black started to creep in at the edges of his vision…

-

Thomas stared into the fire, the warmth permeating into his bones. His father was going to be angry but he didn’t really care. Since that night Samuel had first kissed him, it was all he could think about. Samuel hadn’t made another attempt either. They spent as much time as they could together but that was it.

Samuel had convinced him to sneak out and there he was. But nothing had happened. The fire snapped and Thomas glanced up to the other man. He worked on skinning a rabbit he had caught for dinner.

“I’m sorry you have to eat peasant food when you’re with me,” Samuel said, making a cut to remove the insides.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry I never think to bring you a real dinner.”

The silence stretched a bit longer. Eventually, Samuel was tying the rabbit to a stick and placing it over the fire. He picked up a scrap of fabric, wiping the blood from his hands. He came to sit next to Thomas, watching the flames dance.

“Samuel… Why are we here?” He asked hesitantly. Samuel shifted next to him, leaning against his shoulder.

“I just wanted to be with you in a place where we don’t have to hide.” Thomas wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his chin on them. He fought against the grin that threatened to overtake his face.

“And yet it feels like we are hiding,” he said, only half joking. A beat passed before Samuel reached around him to pull him close. His lips pressed to his hair gently. Thomas sucked in a breath, the heat on his cheeks no longer from the fire.

“Then don’t hide. Tell me what you want.” Thomas looked up at his best friend. He was in love with this man.

“Kiss me,” he whispered.

Samuel moved slowly. Trailing his hands over his arms and up his neck to rest on his face, cupping his jaw. Samuel leaned forward, just barely brushing his lips against Thomas’. They both sighed at that first touch. With Samuel’s breath tickling his face, Thomas leaned forward.

His heart threatened to beat out of his chest the longer they stayed pressed together. Eventually Samuel pulled back and Thomas let out a small whine. It wasn’t enough.

“Again.”

He felt the smile on Samuel’s lips when they pressed against his again. It was firmer this time as Thomas wrapped his arms around Samuel’s waist. They pulled at each other. Bodies searching for any way to get closer.

Thomas ended up on his back, the beautiful man hovering over him. Samuel made sure to press the whole length of his body against his. He kissed him again, rocking his hips slowly.

They were so lost in each other, Thomas hadn’t realized just how close to the fire they were. He grabbed at what he thought would be dirt and grass but a red hot burn made him yelp and shove Samuel away from him.

He gasped and gripped his hand to his chest, tears threatening to fall. He cursed under his breath as his hand throbbed in pain.

“Follow me. Now.” Samuel demanded, grabbing his arm.

He pulled him along for a couple minutes before the sound of running water could be heard. A small creek glittered in the moonlight. Samuel yanked him to the ground again, shoving his burned hand into the cold water. Thomas hissed but the cool water began to ease the burning of his hand.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” Samuel said quietly. Thomas just shook his head.

“It’s not your fault. I wasn’t paying attention either.” Thomas reached up with his free hand to brush some curls out of his face. “You are the only thing I can ever focus on.” He turned his head into his palm, kissing it.

“I would take this injury for you if I could.”

-

Alex yelped and scrambled away from the fire. He blinked rapidly as the past fell away and was replaced with the desert of New Mexico. His left hand burned. The same one as Thomas. The one that his father crushed on Michael.

He looked down at his palm. It wasn’t bad but it would be difficult to use. Before his eyes, the red started to vanish until it was like it had never been there. Alex ground his teeth together and pushed himself up, running inside the cabin.

Maria was watching Michael in both amazement and horror. Michael’s grimace as he watched the burn appear pissed Alex off more than anything. The problem was that he had no one to be mad at. The Gods? Tessa? Himself?

Alex clenched his fists and hurried wordlessly over to Michael, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the sink, just like he did on the first day. He turned on the cold water, forcing his hand under the stream.

“Did you see the vision?” Alex asked quietly.

“Yea,” was his only response.

“You two just… shared a vision?” Maria stammered out. Alex looked back at her but she was focused on Michael’s burnt palm. Were the visions going to become a regular thing? Now that they were more connected to their past lives, would the spirits become restless as they demanded to see their proclaimed soulmate?

“How long was I zoned out?” Michael asked her. She shook her head and squared her shoulders.

“A couple minutes maybe? What was the vision?” She tried to hide they way her voice wanted to shake. Alex smiled at her and shook his head.

“We’ll tell you another time. I think you might need time to process what you just saw.”

“No! I’m here to help you with this exactly so…” she trailed off as her eyes fell to Michael’s hand again. Michael shut the water off and wrapped his hand in a towel as Alex pulled Maria toward the living room.

“Maria, listen to me. This is a lot. Knowing it happens is one thing. Watching it happen is another.” She nodded slowly. “You’re welcome to stay the night…”

“No. I should go home… I… I need to talk to Isobel about this.” Alex wanted to question but he figured now wasn’t the best time. She pulled her shoes on in silence, only looking back when Michael came to stand next to Alex. His hand was wrapped in bandages, covering old and new wounds alike.

“You don’t have to go,” Michael tried one last time. She just shook her head and smiled sadly at them.

“I do. I’ll be back soon.” Then she vanished.

They listened to her truck kick up dirt as she pulled away. Alex jumped when Michael’s hand touched his arm gently but he didn’t pull away. Everything that had happened just before Maria showed up still stuck in his mind.

He had wanted Michael so bad that he forgot that it might not be real.

“Will these visions show up more now?” he asked softly. Michael sighed.

“I don’t know.” Alex turned to face him, trailing his gaze down his body to his bandaged hand.

He took it gently, turning it so his palm was up. He ran his fingers over it gently, careful not to push too hard. Before he knew what he was doing, Alex lifted his hand to his lips, kissing his palm.

[fijiangecko]

Maintaining a New Life

Chapter 1: Ripple on Still Water

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Read it on AO3 here

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Rating: Teen and Up for Violence and Language

A/N: Hey guys! I’ll be uploading biweekly, on Wednesdays around 6pm MST. A taglist is a lot for me to handle but check it out on AO3 if you wanna keep up with it!

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The Armed Detective Agency (ADA): a business meant to help the police and citizens solve cases that might require extra help. Looking in from the outside, the residents might seem normal and like every other private investigation agency on television, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Each member possesses a special ability - a gift, some might say - that makes them stand out from the rest. Each member is unique in their own right, but this group of people combined in one place creates something truly terrifying. There are currently twelve employees at the agency that work full time, and the rest are assistants and part time college students. The two presidents, Keishin Ukai and Ittetsu Takeda, started the agency roughly four years ago, and their workload has only grown since then. Everyday, new cases fly through the doors and members are tasked with helping where they can.

Currently four of the agency members are walking through the streets, searching for an address marked on a manila folder. A small breeze drifts through the streets as you look around. Winter is coming to a close, and of course you’re not wearing a sweater, choosing the fit over functionality. Gazing around once more, you spot the numbers on the files you’re carrying and corral the three men in the direction of the doors, shoving the one with jet black hair slightly harder then the others.

“No need to get all pushy, Y/N.” Kuroo slightly smirks, turning to face you as they both make their ways across the street.

“Wouldn’t need to if you just paid attention, right?” Giving him an innocent smile you can’t see the two others roll their eyes at the light banter. The cold air nips at their skins as Akaashi watches with curious eyes while Bokuto knocks on the door.

“Hello? We’re with the Detective Agency! You called us about a case?!” The silver haired brute waits a second or two before he starts to pound on the door, growing impatient as there hasn’t been an answer. A small look is shared between the crew as nothing happens.

Akaashi glances at Kuroo and yourself before shoving Bokuto out of the way. Sighing softly,you take a step forward and grab Bokuto’s bicep, guiding him back to where Kuroo stands and missing the cocked brow that Kuroo offers to Bokuto at the physical contact. In retort, he wiggles his eyebrows and laughs under his breath.

Ignoring whatever was happening between them, you approach Akaashi. He whispers something to himself as a faint blue aura builds around him exponentially, until it bursts like broken glass. Scope - Akaashi’s gift. His eyes dilate as he looks around the house through the windows. Everything is crystal clear to him, and nothing seems to be out of order in the front of the house. He circles the side with you close behind, and peers through the glass panes at different angles until his eyes twitch. 

“The back door is kicked in,” Akaashi points through the window, directing your view. Upon seeing the broken wood and glass scattered around the floor, you cuss under your breath. “Fuck.”

Quickly making your way back around to the front, the two friends stop what seems to be a serious conversation as you and Akaashi have an air of urgency around yourselves. You don't bother filling them in as Akaashi is alreading explaining what he saw as you jiggle the door knob. Much to your dismay, it’s locked.

“Looks like they already got to him,” you announce, turning to scan their faces. Kuroo can see the stress starting to build on your brow and changes his stance, grabbing the handgun tucked under the back of his waistband. After almost three years of knowing you, he’s grown to tell with just one look what goes through your head.

You fold the file and pass them to Bokuto. “Hold on to these, please. Kuroo and I are gonna go in and check to see if anyone is still around. I need you and Akaashi to stay put just in case they try and make their way out.” The two nod their heads.

“So how are we gonna go about this chibi-chan?” Kuroo cocks the gun and looks through the window, peeking around what corners he can see.

“First off, ew, don’t call me that, I told you to call me Y/N.” He chuckles softly as you take out your own pistol. “And two, we’ll use my portals to get in without ruining the front door. I’ll take upstairs and you can sweep downstairs and the basement.” Pressing the safety off, you turn with intense eye contact towards him. “Sound good?” He can sense the shift in tone and nods.

Looking through the glass panels on the door, you take a deep breath in. The same blue aura builds around you at a much quicker pace then Akaashi’s. It combusts and your gift is revealed - portals. A two and a half meter tall rift opens up before the door, revealing the inside of the residence. Kuroo fixes his stance and enters first, swinging around his gun as he searches. He jerks his head back and motions for you to follow.

The air in the house is warmer as the AC gently rumbles in the background. Kuroo heads right as you slowly ascend to the left. The stairs creak softly as your footsteps reach the second floor, and cautiously you search around. An older woman had contacted the agency about this case, informing them that she’s been worried about her son and the kinds of people he’s been meddling with. This was the only address she could give the agency. Even Bokuto with his superior deductive skills wasn’t exactly sure what to make of it.

Stalking towards the left, you peeks into an office room and checks the corners before approaching the single desk by the windows. There are papers scattered around, mostly tax and budgeting forms. 

“Well he isn’t in financial distress, that’s for sure,” you softly speak to yourself, shuffling the papers around, hoping to find more info about either the man or his compatriots. Underneath all the papers, the letters “ANZEN TECH CORP” on the top of a document catches your eyes. Pulling it out, the header reads “HUMAN DRUG TRIALS”.

Panic slowly builds in your throat as you reach into the desk drawers, quickly sorting through them to find anything relevant. The cabinet filled with other lab reports and drug details, how each participant reacted and how eventually all 23 test subjects passed away. Your heart rate picks up, telling you to fetch the others before something bad happens. This case is way bigger than we thought, you think to yourself.

Against your better judgment, you decide to search all of the bookshelves and filing cabinets in the room, looking for other company documents. None of the guys have given a signal, so I have time. You clear the desk in one foul swoop, the trinkets breaking and clanking as they hit the ground. Throwing all information on the desk, you take a breath to focus and start to filter through the collection of data. You’ve always had an eye for patterns, one of the quickest intelligence officers in the office, and with baited breath, it doesn’t take long to realize what’s going on.

“2020, 2014, 2008, 2002, 1994… jesus christ.” You run a hand through her hair and lean back against the chair. “How-” A loud crashing sound takes your train of thought, as well as shouting from downstairs. Shoving the papers onto the desk, you grab the gun and rush down the steps. Searching quickly, Kuroo is getting up from the ground by the basement door and he’s yelling at something towards the back.

“GET BACK HERE BASTARD!” Your body moves before fully realizing what’s going on, and you’re already out of the back door, hopping over Kuroo in the process. For a split second you see a figure hop over a fence on the right, gun in hand you bolt towards the figure. Almost with grace, you hop over and catch the strange figure making their way to the next fence. They look behind, and you catch sight of the person’s black hair and glasses. It’s got to be our guy, you think while pressing harder to catch up.

Kuroo runs up next to you easily, as his height doesn’t hinder his ability to leap over the fences. “I go left, you go right?” He pants while slowing to match his pace with yours, but only slightly. 

“Yeah,” you huff harder, going beyond (plus ultra) as your thighs tense and hurl yourself up, grabbing the ledge of the fence and using the momentum to hoist up and over the wall in one fluid motion. Kuroo watches your movements, close to being fully distracted, but does the same as he breaks off.

The man is slowing down, so he’s probably not used to this much physical exercise, you think while panting and avoiding the slight burn in your thighs. Kuroo advances, his height helping a little too much as he runs close to him. Right as he places a hand on the man's shoulder, Kuroo is blasted back, the remnants of a blue aura evident on the man’s palm.

“Kuroo!” You veer in his direction, slowing your pace to assess the damage. As you approach, he flips onto his knees, waving her off.

“Go! Get the guy!” He coughs, gripping his side and you regain focus and begin to run. Getting close to him isn’t an option at this point…. Think Y/N! Then it hits you, right as your feet touch ground over the next wall. Body tired, but mind determined, you push even harder. I got a plan, just got to get closer!

The man's pace is getting slower by the second, and once you know for sure he’s within range, you build an aura. The area flashes a bright blue, and before he can realize what’s happening, he’s colliding into someone. You had opened a portal right in front of him, the receiving one right in front of you. Like a trained soldier, you grab his forearm and twist hard, making the man spin around. Some pressure on the backs of his knees causes him to fall over. You force his chest onto the ground, and hold his arms in a lock, making sure to avoid the palms of his hands. 

Lungs burn slightly, you focus on your breath not realizing that Kuroo walked up until he placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks,” he speaks softly, and uses his eyes to silently ask if you’re okay. Nodding to assure him, you move off of the man, Kuroo quickly replacing your position. Pulling out your phone, you dial Akaashi. 

“Dr. Takahashi, is it?” you speak as the phone begins to ring. He doesn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes is all the confirmation you need. The phone beeps for another moment before the voice on the other line goes through.

“You guys alright?”

“Yeah, winded but fine. Takahashi must’ve been hiding in the basement and tried to make a break for it.” Turning to Kuroo, he nods to verify the story. “Where are you guys?”

“We’re back at the house still. We heard the ruckus, but by the time we looked in both of you were gone. Bokuto deducted that it was a chase so we decided to stay put for the time being.” Humming in affirmation, you spin around, putting a hand on your hip and breathing in the fresh air.

“Well, we’ll make our way back to you. I found some stuff I think everyone should see.”

“Okay, sounds good. We’ll contact Takeda-sensei and fill him in quickly.” The line beeps, and you glance at the scientist before looking to your partner. 

“You’ve given your mother quite the heart attack Dr. Takahashi.” Kuroo gets up off of his back but keeps his arms in a tight grip.You have done this many times with Kuroo, and secures his arms before yanking him onto his feet. The three begin to walk as Kuroo pulls out a pair of handcuffs and is careful to put them on, avoiding the palms of his hands.

“What did you find at the house?” The cuffs click into place as he trudges along.

“I think it’s better if we all talked about it,” he hums in acknowledgment of your answer and walks back to meet with the other agency members. You take the moment of ease to prop her hands atop her head, taking deep breaths and sweating in the cold air.

“Struggling?” Kuroo chuckles at your stance, taking in the sights. A small cloud of air passes your lips, the sunlight hitting your cheekbones and the annoyed look etched into her lips.

“Piss off.” This causes him to laugh harder right before entering the house. The sound is not foreign to you, but your stomach does a small flip every time you hear it.

Bokuto rushes up, checking them both over. “You guys okay? Y/N looks run down,” Kuroo howls at the comment, turning his body to face away from the group with a full body laugh, clutching his sides.

Huffing, you grab Dr. Takahashi’s shoulder, directing him to the living space and has him sit down. “I’m fine Bo.” He purses his lips as he curiously looks between the two.

“So,” Akaashi breaks the silence, “What did you want to show us, Y/N?”

“Right.” Blicking back into focus, you brush past Bokuto and Kuroo. Reaching the room, you take all the documents you can grab before triple checking they are all within your grasp.

Downstairs, Bokuto sits across from Dr. Takahashi, making intense eye contact as Akaashi asks him some basic questions.

“Dr. Takahashi, born in 1975 and has worked for Anzen Tech Corporation for the past 20 years as a chemist, correct?” Cold eyes stare into the tea table, no words are spoken. “Well, that’s the information your mother has given us, so I’m going to say that it is correct.” Pulling a pen out of his pocket, Akaashi takes the files from Bo and begins to mark bits of information.

“A chemist, huh?” Kuroo leans over the table to stare, but once again he is unresponsive. “I also have my degree in chemistry, but I’m curious to know why you’re working at a tech corporation.” His golden eyes burn holes into Takahashi’s forehead, but he simply looks dead.

The interaction is halted as you march into the room, stacks of papers practically falling from your arms. Softly, you bump your hip into Kuroo’s side, telling him to move as you set the piles down in full view of Dr. Takahashi. Gauging his reaction, you catch the way his shoulders tense and eyes dilate.

“Where did you-” he starts, startled, but you are quick to cut him off.

“You’re not very good at hiding things, doctor.” The manila folder on top of the stack makes its way into your hands. With parted her lips you begin to read from the first page:

“Anzen Tech Corp. Human Drug Trials

Test Subject No. 23 - Watanabe Amida

Age: 21

Gender: F

Blood Type: O-

Notes: No history of drug or alcohol abuse. In good health. Family history of colon and skin cancer, but no major complications. No major visits to hospitals for injury or illness.

Cycle 1: Injected with 15ml of treatment. Skin around the puncture started to rash and the subject threw up within 3 hours. Subject will be returning home for the night before observation and dosage tomorrow.

Cycle 2: Subject stated they only received four hours of sleep, as they had to keep returning to the bathroom. Skin is no longer raised, but it is a deeper shade of pink. Received another 15ml, will be uping to 20ml if skin remains the same color tomorrow. No rash after injection, and the subject seems much more drowsy. Keeping overnight for observation.

Cycle 3: Subject sat up and stared at the wall all night saying “Not here”. They received several pills from staff to help sleep, but their eyes were constantly open. The rash appeared on different parts of the body (upper back, injection site and calf muscles) before returning to normal. The skin continues to be a darker shade. Staying at 15ml. Subject immediately began dry heaving and scratching at the skin. Force was needed to strap her down to finish dosage. Eventually required tranquilization to observe bodily functions. Spots that had rashes before began to bleed, and new rash spots had appeared. Blood was found in the corner of the left eye. Upon further inspection, we determined it came from the eyelid and not the eyeball. Keeping overnight.

Cycle 4: Subject never woke from tranquilization. Old rashes bleed throughout the night, but the whole body was covered in them. All orifices had small amounts of blood coming from them. Subject passed early morning before injection.”

A scowl adorns your features as you pass the file to Akaashi. The room is still as all eyes are on the trembling doctor. His head shakes slightly as the cuffs audibly shake behind him.

“We didn’t…. We…” His voice is soft, softer than a pin dropping.

“Didn’t what.” Venom spills out of your mouth, eyes pinpointed on the monster in front of her. Kuroo’s fists are clenched, knuckles turning white, but the way you speak makes him realize that you could cause a lot of damage if the doctor says one wrong thing. He’d only witnessed you in this state a handful of times, but only once did he see you lose it. Never again, he looks at your figure, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N,” Kuroo speaks with concern laced into his words. “Let’s take a step back.” His hand pulls on your shoulder ever so softly before you give in and takes a few steps back to be in line with him. Kuroo’s hand remains on your shoulder, rubbing small circles with his thumb to help soothe you. He’s furious, but right now he needs to prevent a disaster.

Silence continues to fill the room, slowly drowning the hustle and bustle of the city right outside the window. “We didn’t know that this is what they wanted.” Voice cracking, Takahashi speaks through silent tears. “They told us it was for medical purposes.” Kuroo’s thumb stops its movements. “They said that it was to help…”

A cold chill runs down everyone’s bodies. More fuel is added to the fire. “But these people were dying under your care. Did that not trigger any red flags doctor? You might not be a medical professional, but continuously injecting people with a substance that causes them to break out doesn’t seem ethical to me at all.” You brutally torture the doctor with your words.

“They told us they were willing-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your words boom over the quiet hum of the A/C. Even the boys flinch at your tone, Bokuto and Akaashi looking at Kuroo. His lips are pressed together, resuming his circles into your shoulder. You are beyond tense, but he isn’t sure how to reel you back in. A blanket of silence settles over the room once more.

Bokuto takes files based off of the patients, looking for patterns among the records. Akaashi takes out his own device, texting reports back to headquarters about the case, noting your hostile position to Takeda and Ukai as he awaits a response on how to deal with the situation. Kuroo looks at you once more, racking his brain of what to do, but comes up short. He squeezes your shoulder before approaching the table. Silently, he sifts through the documents, until a file with chemical symbols catches his eyes. Dr. Takahashi goes rigid once again as he realizes what Kuroo is looking at and panics.

“You said you’re a chemist! You have to understand!” He stands suddenly from his seat, attempting to reach out to Kuroo. Hands moving faster than bullets, you grab Takahashi by the collar and slam him back onto the couch as he screams. “YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND!”

Akaashi stands and situated himself between her and the doctor, Kuroo gripping your bicep to prevent any further movements. “We can’t have him harmed, Y/N.” Akaashi presses his phone into your hands, a silent signal to look. Taking it, a message from Ukai and Takeda states that they have already made contact with the police and agency members will hold off until Takahashi is taken into custody.

“Whatever,” you place the device back in his hands and easily yank your arm back from Kuroo’s hold. Walking to the front yard, you know everyone is uncomfortable with you being in the room. A great feeling, my own teammates are scared of me. 

Kuroo can’t help but sigh, already knowing what’s going on in your head. Quietly, he exchanges glances with Akaashi and resumes looking at the files in his hands. Bokuto stops his own research as he catches Kuroo’s expression change. “What is it?” He stands and meets the other man in the center of the room. Smart as he may be, he is no chemist and doesn’t know what to make of all of the lines.

Grinding his teeth, Kuroo runs a hand over his eyebrows, exasperated. “They are making a steroid - trying too, at least. I’m no geneticist, but it looks like they want something to permanently enhance a person's physique. Which has never been done…” His cat-like eyes narrow in Dr. Takahashi’s direction.

“That would explain why they only looked at candidates who were physically fit and had no previous signs of injury or illness.” Bokuto chirps in, taking the file from Kuroo’s hands.

“The police are five minutes out. I would suggest we put everything back in order and have Kuroo and Y/N wait outside for them.” Akaashi, always observant and cautious, speaks as he arranges the mangle of papers on the table.

Bokuto nudges Kuroo in the arm, wiggling his eyebrows and Kuroo scoffs and walks outside. You have your arms crossed, weight shifted onto one leg as the other bounces. You can see him observing you in your peripheral, but chooses not to comment. You can feel your face heat up a tad bit. Although you've been partners for years, you don't exactly like feeling like you’re being observed.

The past three years had meant a lot to both you and Kuroo. You’re one of the founding members of the agency, alongside Takeda-sensei, Ukai-sensei and three others. Kuroo had joined with Kenma, Bokuto and Akaashi just a year later. The agency was so small back then, but finding a whole group of gifted people was a blessing for the business. The group of men seemed genuine in their gestures, quickly fitting in. Kenma was quiet, a stark contrast to Bokuto who could be boisterous at any given moment. Akaashi and Kuroo were observant, scarily so, but they learned their strengths from the group. His jokes didn’t always land, but Kuroo found himself listening to your laugh anytime he told one. You always tried to welcome new people in like they were long lost relatives, making the transition as easy as possible. He appreciated the gesture and found himself drawn to you.

Mystery shrouded you, no one knew your past, and anytime someone asked it was brushed off with a simple “it’s a long story” and a giggle. The first year, he would let it slide, just satisfied in hearing you talk, but the longer he stuck around, the more Kuroo found himself wondering just how much he didn’t know about you. Yeah, you’re one of the smartest and combat effective members of the agency, but he couldn’t tell you your birthday, your favorite color or what college you went to. It drove him crazy, really. Kuroo consoled Bokuto, who quickly laughed at him, teasing him for his crush on a coworker. He blushed, but didn’t deny it. Over the next year, he asked questions whenever he got the opportunity. Some, you would answer, but most you would shut down. 

After months of pestering, they got drunk at Kenma’s apartment and you told them all that it was frustrating. “I just want to be straight forward, what’s my business is my business. If I want to tell you, I’ll fucking say it.” You shrugged, placing the beer bottle on the counter. Kuroo didn’t press as much after that, even if you did tell him that you talk a lot of shit when you are drunk. You both had a straight to the point kind of relationship full of trust and understanding. Both of you are grateful to one another for many reasons, but being excellent partners on the field is somewhere in their top tens.

“You know, you could just ask if I’m upset?” You walk up the yard, looking down both sides of the road to look for the cops.

“I know, but I can tell.” He watches from his spot, concentrating on your body language.

“Then stop looking at me like I’m a lab rat.” you don't turn as you speak, instead slightly bent over on the sidewalk looking down the street. He sighs, knowing that this is just the manifestation of your frustration, but that means it just doesn’t affect him.

“Y/N. It’s not like that and you know it.” Physical contact would upset you more, or that’s what he’s led to believe from past encounters, so he stays put. The conversation dies just as quickly as it had started.

You know he cares about you. The slight sting of regret prods the back of your mind before you finally make your way back to Kuroo’s side. Mumbling, you whisper out a quiet apology. He acknowledges the statement with a small laugh.

“It’s okay. I know how you can get.” He places his hand back on your shoulder and starts rubbing circles “And I also know that you were about to rip that guy’s head off in there.” He motions with his other hand to the house, a smile adorning his lips.

“Yeah, and? He probably deserves it. At this point, he’s either gonna be killed or put in jail for the rest of his life. Might as well make the process easier and less paperwork intensive on everyone.” you hiss lightly, rolling your eyes. Kuroo’s hand rubs harder circles into your shoulder when he feels you tense.

“And all I’m saying, is that the agency would kill you if you murdered someone. Then I would get punished for letting you.”

“But you’d let me.” He laughs, watching the police cars round the corner and park in front of the house.

~

The next 30 minutes are a blur as Akaashi and Kuroo handle the police and have statements taken. You and Bokuto take the back seat and just stand around on the lawn, making small talk until you’re all permitted to leave.

“So how about dinner? We got the job done and Y/N found some great info that’ll get the agency some more cash, so why not celebrate? Huh?” Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows vigorously at the group as they step into a subway car. 

“I think I’m good Bo, I’m just gonna finish up the paperwork for today since you guys took care of everything.” you quickly find a seat, letting the boys fend for themselves on a workday afternoon train. They squeeze in, trying to get close enough to you to continue the conversation. 

“You don’t have too you know. We’re perfectly capable of doing our own paperwork,” Akaashi, honest as ever, speaks over the crowd.

“Plus, you did use your gift to save our asses, so you shouldn’t do extra shit if you don’t have too.” Kuroo pipes in, trying to get closer to the group.

“No it’s okay guys, you’re probably gonna drink and I got all riled up. It’s not a big deal, so drop it.” You’re stern with your words, and both Akaashi and Kuroo get the memo.

“But you never go drinking with us. It’s kinda ridiculous.” Bokuto holds the band above your seat, staring straight into your eyes. His eyes plead, and his lips hold a frown.

“How about when the payment goes in from the court cases? Then I’ll go out with the whole agency for happy hour.” You know that he will not stop asking until they compromise or you agree, so you settle for what you can get.

“Fine. But if you bail on us I’m gonna have you buy me cases of beer for the next month.” The words cause a scowl to form on your face, knowing that the ladder would be much more costly than a single night out. 

“Deal.” You come to an agreement and quietly take the rest of the train ride to talk about menial tasks around the office.

~

The agency was slow when the group entered its doorway. Kenma doesn’t bother looking up from the small device in his hands. A large group of workers turn their heads, looking at who opened the front door. 

“Y/N-chan!” Oikawa is sitting on Iwa’s desk as he waves to his second favorite detective. The other boys say their hellos, Lev and Hinata practically have a screaming match as they greet the crew, and normal office chatter resumes. You walk to your desk, which is situated across from Kuroo’s and in a group with Akaashi and Bokutos, then plop down into the wheely chair, letting a sigh escape your lips.

“Welcome back guys.” Ukai and Takeda come out of their private office to check in on everyone. “Everything go okay with the police?” Ukai takes a huff from his cigarette, and blows the smoke upwards.

“It was fine.” Kuroo takes a seat at his desk. “They seemed grumpy that we touched the evidence, but it was all just paperwork so they’ll clear it.” A reassuring smile takes its place on his lips, and you roll your eyes.

“That’s good. I’m glad you guys were able to grab him in time.” Takeda walks over to their desks and smiles at the group, placing a hand on your shoulder. “And I’m glad nothing happened.”

Well that was a blow to my self confidence, you think while smiling to assure Takeda-sensei that it was okay. You boot up the computer and pull out some papers from the desk and begin the paperwork, already very tired from the day's events. Takeda takes the hint and walks to Akaashi’s desk, starting a brief conversation.

Kuroo eyes you from across the desks, trying to get a good look at your eyes. Usually your body language is pretty telling, but in an office scenario it becomes a thousand times harder to know what you’re thinking. Your eyes are always a good tell, but you're avoiding looking at him in order to focus. He huffs, leaning back into his chair and spins to take a view of the agency.

Oikawa and Iwa are still talking, or rather Oikawa is talking while Iwa works. Lev, Kageyama and Hinata aren’t focusing on their work at all, instead they’re trying to get Kenma’s attention, who is still engrossed in his game. Tanaka and Nishinoya whisper amongst themselves about God knows what as they giggle. A good majority of the agency members had called it a day and went home or out, leaving this last case before their doors shut for the afternoon.

Takeda and Ukai share small conversation at the back of the room before sending the younger ones home, including Tanaka and Nishinoya seeing as they weren’t working. They try to send Iwaizumi and Oikawa home, but both refuse as they tend to walk you home at the end of every night. The three of you got along very well, and tended to take cases together pretty frequently, but lately you've been spending more time with Kuroo and his little gang.

No one in the agency knew what was up with Iwa, Oikawa and yourself. You three were glued at the hips from the moment the two boys stepped into the agency, almost like you knew each other in past lives. The fluidity in your teamwork was seamless as you took charge a majority of the time, another thing Kuroo could admire about you. A small portion of the agency believed that you knew each other before working with the ADA, but if they had nothing has ever slipped. No red flags have ever been set off and everyone just let it slide. By some cosmic power you three had found each other and would die for one another (not that any of you would admit it). 

“It’s okay Takeda-Sensei,” Oikawa hopped off of Iwa’s desk and waved a hand in the air, “We’ll lock up. I still have some paperwork to finish anyways.” Always a sweet talker, Oikawa spoke with a honeyed tone as the presidents took his word, leaving the office to just six members.

Quietly, Akaashi and Bokuto finish what little they have left to do and wait for Kuroo. The chemist took his sweet time, seeing Bokuto’s eyebrows furrow as he typed slower and slower.

“Sorry, you guys waiting on me?” He turns, giving them an innocent look and laughs when Bokuto’s scowl etches itself deeper on his face.

“Kuroo, please hurry. I don’t want him to turn emo before we go out,” Akaashi leans and whispers. “If he drinks when he’s emo I’ll just have to carry him home while he’s crying.” The imaginary scenario made Kuroo chuckle, but he finishes his work swiftly before looking up at you. Still hyper focused on the screen, your keyboard firing off like a gatling gun. Your r.b.f. was showing, but he didn’t mind; instead he was admiring the soft glow from the computer on your cheekbones.

“Ready, bro?” Bokuto slaps him rather hard on the back with a large, toothy smile. It snaps him out of his thoughts, but he scoffs playfully before getting up.

“You sure you’re going to be okay, Y/N?” The sound of your name derails a train of thought, eyes flickering between the work laid before you and the raven haired male stretching on the other side of the desk.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Tooru and Hajime are gonna walk me home, and I’ll be done here within the next hour or so.” Flashing a reassuring smile, you return to the files without waiting for an answer. Kuroo looks over at the aforementioned males, Oikawa flashing his signature smirk.

“Okay, be safe guys.” He waves at the three before turning to Akaashi and Bokuto, who are waiting at the entrance. With one last glance at you, he follows his companions out the door.

Oikawa and Iwa share a few words while they work, leaving you to your own devices, knowing that once you’re “in the zone” you won’t be stopped anytime soon. The sky starts to shift from a light baby blue to soft peach and oranges as the day drags on, the air cooling further as the night starts to settle in.

The pair listen to the hum of the city streets as you finish your last page of work. It ends up being much later in the night than they had anticipated, but none of them had anything going on. As the keyboard clicks and clacks come to a halt, you speak with an air of caution.

“The Port Mafia’s getting closer.”

[hihellogoodbyebruh]

Just Me and You - Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Pairing: Rio Alvarez x Black!Plus size!Oc

Summary: Simone Dunn is a singer just trying to live her best life and make it through the obstacles that have been put in front of her. Living life in the city isn’t always easy. Life might be kicking her in the ass presently, but she kept a smile on her face regardless. Rio Alvarez is all about his business. He’s expanding up and out of just the money laundering business. He wanted it all. He was hooked from the second he heard her voice, but will her past and his enemies let them be together?

Warning(s): None really. It’s a meet-cute. They meet, it’s cute. 

Word count: 2,026

Author’s Note: I’m not gonna lie, this story means a lot to me. I was never sure if I’d start posting it or not. Simone has been an OC of mine for a long time now and when the idea to pair her with Rio popped into my mind I knew it could be something very special. I hope you all enjoy the journey. As always questions, comments, and concerns are welcome! Might even start a tag list but we’ll see. Thanks for reading. xo

Rio stared out of the window, looking out at his investment. It had the perfect eye line for all the exits and it had the best view of the stage. Since he began flipping his game and moving up in the world he became acquainted with folks that had different tastes than him. The opportunity to invest in this club kind of fell in his lap. His new co-owner was a sloppy prick, but Rio couldn’t deny the club was bringing in a nice grip of money for him. He liked the anonymity of being a silent partner. Every two weeks he’d roll through, check up on the club, and collect some cash to put into his other businesses.

As he looked down at all the club goers, he was pleased to see the place was pretty packed. He was not happy to see the owner, Shaun, with two women on his arm. This wasn’t a social hour. He was here for business. Mick, his right hand man, was guarding the door and hadn’t moved an inch to let Shaun in. 

“Hey man. Place is poppin tonight right?” Shaun greeted Rio as he tried to maneuver past Mick who only moved at Rio’s nod. “Enjoying your night? These are a couple lady friends of mine. Say ‘hi’ ladies.”

“Hi.” The two girls parroted at Rio, waving at him.

Rio didn’t bother greeting the women. “Get rid of the bitches man.”

“What?” Shaun asked, his tone confused.

“I ain’t gonna tell you twice.” Rio’s face hadn’t changed. He just stared Shaun down.

Shaun cleared his throat and whispered something to the ladies before they shuffled back out of the room. It was quiet except for the sound of the music pumping through the speakers.

“My bad man. They were sexy as hell though right? Can you really blame me?” Shaun tried to excuse, a smile on his face as he walked over to where Rio was standing.

As soon as he was within arms reach, Rio gripped the back of his neck tightly and pulled him close. He stared directly in his eyes. “Don’t ever bring nobody to one of our meetings again. I choose to keep you on, but that can easily be changed. Get my money and stop fucking playing with me.”

Shaun merely nodded and Rio let go of him. Shaun tried adjusting his suit and cleared his throat. He walked over to the wall that was furthest from the window and opened a panel in the door. He put the code into the panel and opened it up. There was a silver case inside that he pulled out before closing the door back. “Business has been better than ever. I was able to add a permanent residency here that has us packed every week. We may even be able to up prices a bit.”

Rio’s eyebrow quirked in interest at the man’s words. “Permanent residency?”

Shaun had set the case on the table and Mick opened it, starting to count the money that was inside. Rio walked closer to take a look inside and noticed that there seemed to be a couple more stacks than usual.

“Yeah. I’m still having different live performers come in, but people also like consistency. They like knowing they’re coming to hear quality music. And the pipes on this one? Massive. Doesn’t hurt that she’s gorgeous too.”

Rio would never admit it but he was definitely intrigued. “Who is she?”

Shaun walked back over to the window and smirked as he looked down. “Simone Dunn. Lucky for you, you came at the perfect time.”

Rio noticed the club music had shut off and people were clapping. As he walked to stand next to Shaun, a slow instrumental was playing. A soft spotlight appeared on the stage and the crowd’s clapping intensified. A giggle was heard over the mic.

“Aww, y’all are too good to me.” The woman’s voice was clear as day, but had an alluring quality. She had big black hair falling over her shoulders in waves. Her dress was pink and it gave a tantalizing view of her breasts as well as her full figure. Her skin was creamy brown and the outline of her ass was particularly appealing to Rio.

“We’re starting off grown and sexy tonight y'all. So if you’re vibing with someone, gon’ head and pull ‘em a little closer. I’m just tryna help y’all possibly end the night on a good note, if you know what I mean.” She winked at the crowd and people laughed as others hollered and whistled.

A familiar beat reached Rio’s ears, taking him back to house parties in his old neighborhood. He remembered talking slick to a fine girl as she danced on him, knowing she was gon let him fuck by the end of the night.

I'll always think of you Inside of my private thoughts I can imagine you Touching my private parts And just the thought of you I can't help but touch myself That's why I want you so bad Just one night of

The sultry sound of her voice traveled from Rio’s ears straight to his dick. He watched as her hips moved side to side as she gripped the mic stand. She was a temptress, an enchantress. Hell, she was a siren and her song was the one calling him home. Home being the absolute treasure he was sure is hiding between her thighs. 

Can't get my mind off you I think I might be obsessed The very thought of you Makes me want to get undressed I want to be with you In spite of what my heart says I guess I want you too bad All I want is

Her eyes were locking onto different people in the crowd. She was working her magic on everyone. People were partnered up and there was lots of grinding happening on the dance floor. As she looked around, her eyes happened to dart up and land on his. She looked taken aback, but curious. She never once stopped singing and now it seemed like she was singing the words directly to him.

“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Shaun asked, but Rio ignored him. His eyes were still locked with Simone’s as she sang. A smile pulled at her lips and her cheeks felt hot so she pulled her eyes away from him to look back toward the crowd. She missed the quick smile that appeared on Rio’s face before he turned his back to the window.

“Have you had any trouble here? Fights? Anyone tryna shake you down?” Rio asked Shaun, who looked perplexed by the sudden topic shift.

“No. I would have called you right away. Like I said, things have been great. Should I be worried or on the lookout?” Shaun asked, his tone taking on a nervous quality.

“Nah, man. Just looking out for my investment. Enjoy your night with your lady friends.” Rio dismissed the other man and Shaun took the exit without hesitation.

“You think they know you got dealings in this place?” Mick asked, once Shaun was gone.

“No, but you can never be too careful.” Rio replied, eyes drifting back toward the stage. She had begun singing a new song. Something a bit more fast paced. “I wanna keep this place as legit as possible. We need something clean in case we run into some trouble. But I aint scared of them. I’ll deal with ‘em when the time’s right.”

Mick merely nodded his head as he finished up the count.

“Everything square?” At Mick’s confirmation, Rio walked over to him. “Go ahead and take everything back to the warehouse. Imma stay and check things out for a bit. Have a drink. I’ll call you in the morning.”

Rio headed down to the bar and got himself a shot of brandy. He nursed his drink as he finished listening to the performance going on. He was in the middle of texting some associates to set up meetings for the next week when applause broke out all around him. He looked up to see Simone walking towards the bar, blowing kisses as she went.

“Ji, baby! Please get me one last malibu pineapple and I’ll love you forever.” She exclaimed, taking a seat one away from Rio. He was watching her interaction with the bartender.

“You better already love me.” The bartender, Ji-hoon, retorted even as he went about making her drink.

“You know I do boo.” She winked, a wide grin on her face. “In fact, I love you so much that I’m leaving you a big tip tonight.”

“Are you trying to buy me? Cause I’m absolutely up for sale.” He smiled, sliding her drink over to her as he leaned on the bar. He glanced over at Rio and nodded his head towards him. “Hey, you need to be topped off?”

“Yeah, man.” Rio answered and Simone finally noticed him sitting there. Ji poured Rio another drink before getting distracted on the other side of the bar by other paying customers. 

Simone made eye contact with him before looking down at her drink and swishing the glass around.

“You have a beautiful voice, mama.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” She looked up at him with a smile on her face.

“Interesting choice of song too. I know a couple people here gotta be happy about the assist you gave them.” 

She laughed and shook her head. “Anything for my fans.”

“Anything?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Within reason.” She quickly added.

“So you’ll let me buy your drink, then.” 

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow and she turned around in her stool to face him, legs crossed and her silver heels shining. “So you’re a fan?”

“I am now.”

“I’ve had an open tab all night and I just promised Jian a big tip.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, and her eyes narrowed.

“And what do you want in return for so graciously picking up my tab?” 

A smirk appeared on Rio’s face and he slid one bar stool over to be closer to her. Their eyes never left one another. “I’d love to have a conversation with one of the sexiest women I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Her lights lit up in surprise and delight at his words. That soft smile of hers, returning to her face. “I guess I could swing that. So what’s your name?”

“It’s Rio, sweetheart. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Rio….I like it. I see you’re familiar with Shaun. Y’all friends or something?”

“Or something.” He answered, taking a sip of his drink.

“Or something. That’s not mysterious at all.” She joked.

“I aint no mystery baby. What you see is what you get.”

She snorted. “That’s what they all say.”

“Who?”

“Boys.” She retorted, finishing her drink.

“I’m all man and I’d love to demonstrate just how much of a man I am.” 

She looked back over to him and there was a delicious smirk on his face. No one man should be able to look like that. It’s too much power. “Tempting, but I have plans.”

“At 2 in the morning?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Is that judgment I hear in your tone Mr. ‘I-Can’t-Say-How-I-Know-Shaun?’”

Rio had to chuckle. “You got me there.”

She checked her phone and sighed at the time. “I gotta go, but it was nice meeting you Rio. Hope to see you again.” She then asked Ji-hoon to hand her the bag that was hidden behind the bar.

“You will.” He asserted, wondering why she didn’t use the employee lockers he remembered being installed. The thought was erased from his mind by her leaning into his personal space. His hand immediately went to her waist and his fingers grazed the top of her ass.

“I’m counting on it.” She whispered in his ear, before walking away and waving at a couple people as she went. He watched her the whole time and it wasn’t until she reached the exit that she turned her head to look back at him. He knew he had her.

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Chapter 6: A Room with a View

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 3,359

Warnings: Swearing, slut shaming, death mention, crying

Author’s Note: So, I already answered this, but just in case anyone missed it: I update this series weekly and I am still editing the vast majority of chapters! Sorry if it’s coming out slower than expected!

Tags: @divinity-deos @wolfish-willow​ @scoopsohboi​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @herre-gud-nej​ @clockworkballerina​ @maddie1504​ @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary​ @buckysarge​ @wildcvltre​ @stanleyyelnatsiii​ @n3wtscaseofniffler5​ @peterparxour @linkispink1995​ @a-big-ball-of-idk​ @used-avocado​ @mochminnie​ @sledgy14​ @the-creative-lie​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​ @ggclarissa​ @voidnarnia​ @anonymousonion23 

Steve had no idea what he’d done wrong. Not a clue. But you were ignoring him. You sat farther away from him in English the past two days, and you’d been blowing off plans with him. You’d say that you had other plans, but he’d see you sat on the bleachers after school, watching the girls soccer practise or drawing in that book again. He still didn’t know what you were doing in that book and he was irritated by the fact that he could see you sat in your room some days, caught in a lie without knowing it, your nose caught in the pages in front of you, pencil in between your teeth, focused but unaware of an audience. Steve could see right into your room from his when your curtains were open and you often sat at your desk, working in your pads.

On the day that Mr. Lawrence announced the start for the final essay, Steve had had enough. It had been a week of this behaviour and he felt as though he deserved an answer. And he was sick of watching through the window. Tommy and Carol were busy every damn day chasing Billy Hargrove, Vicki had gone back after him too after their awful date, and Tina wasn’t his friend. Sure, he could bug Dustin, but that made him feel like such a loser. His only friends were a rag tag group of preteens and a weird girl who wouldn’t even talk to him! This was getting pathetic.

The bell rang before Steve could make his move and you were out the door before he could even open his mouth. Tina rolled her eyes as she passed him by, grabbing Tina’s arm to whisper loudly “God, how tragic.” making Vicki cackle loudly.

Steve booked it out the door, scanning the halls for you, but you’d already disappeared from sight. He spotted Samantha, but she was on the retreat. He chose not to chase her down, they’d never even had a conversation before and using her to try to get her to spill on her friend felt a bit shitty. So he decided to just take a walk, no harm in a walk, it was a nice day anyway, out by the field. He wandered out the gym doors by the car park. He shoved his hands into his blue workman’s jacket. The weather was still a bit too chilly to go without a coat, but the sunshine made it easier.

He spotted you and Samantha at the top of the bleachers. You had your hair up that day and your lavender bomber jacket draped around your shoulders. Carol had something similar, or maybe it was Tina, he couldn’t remember which one the pair blurred into one being in his mind.

Samantha caught Steve’s eye before you did. She leaned over to you with a smirk “Lover boy’s watching.” She whispered cheekily, pointing slyly at him.

You turned immediately. Steve was standing in the car park, a few smattering of folks on car hoods, eating packed lunches and watching the scene go down. He waved, taking a step towards you. You turned your attention away.

Samantha was baffled. A week ago, you were telling her all about the weird fun you were having with him, all smiles and laughter, and now you wouldn’t even look at him for more than a second. You wouldn’t admit it, but Samantha knew that he was something more than a friend to you. Nobody was this upset when someone cancelled plans.

Steve turned away without a word. He wanted to scream at you, his mind demanding to know what he had done wrong. He made a plan that afternoon, one he was certain might ruin everything for him.  

As soon as the three o’clock bell rang, Steve made a mad dash for his car. He didn’t leave immediately; instead he waited to see an expected sight. Once he saw you huddled and headed for the bleachers, he was sure that the girl’s team was practising. Then he drove off towards home, parking in his own driveway. His mother was home, a shock to him, but he still headed upstairs. The next part was tricky. He’d time out that practise ended at four thirty, but that you usually left at four since the walk was so long. At four twenty, he headed across the street. As always, the yellow Volkswagen sat in the driveway. He’d rarely ever seen it leave the driveway, but it gave him hope that someone was inside the house. You couldn’t be living alone as a senior. He bounded up the front steps, knocking on the door twice. He was nervous, switching his weight from his toes to his heels in a rocking motion forward and back, forward and back.

An older man opened the door. He had to be in his eighties, with age spots speckling him around his eyes like a second pair of wide frames behind his tortoise shell glasses.  He seemed suspicious of Steve, although that was probably because he was staring.

“Hello,” he stuck out his hand for the man to shake “I’m Steve Harrington, I’m a friend of Y/N.” the man didn’t take his hand, staying silent as he looked him over.

Steve pressed on “I was wondering if she was home, we were supposed to study together today and she said that she’d call when she got home but I haven’t heard from her.” He chuckled awkwardly.

From behind the old man, a woman’s voice called “Harold, who’s there?”

“One of Y/N’s friends, she home yet?” he called back, opening the door wider. Steve could see the pale yellow walls, sun stained from the large three panel window at the front of their house.

Steve watched as an older woman hobbled into the scene, back hunched and skin thin. She looked frail, her hair dyed to what Steve assumed was its original shade, her grey roots visible from the top of her head. She greeted Steve with a warm smile. Steve was quick to offer his hand to shake, which she took carefully. “Hi, Steve Harrington, it’s nice to meet you both.” He said quickly, smiling brightly at the pair.

“Well hello there, I’m Maude and this is Y/N’s grandfather Harold, it’s lovely to meet you.” She said sweetly. “Why don’t you come inside, Y/N should be home any minute.”

Maude hit Harold’s arm roughly and he let go of the door, letting Steve into the house. He quickly kicked off his shoes, noting the pair’s socked feet. He looked around the house. Every house on the street was one of three standard box deals, with specified details. His parents hadn’t paid for the window seat like your family had, but you didn’t have the open kitchen that his did; an extra yellow wall separated the space. He looked to the fireplace, an exact copy of his family’s before their renovation last august. He missed the grey brick they used to have. You had a large family portrait on the mantle. You were sat in the centre in your Sunday best, your grandparents flanking the outside, two other adults stood closest to you. Steve assumed they were your parents. You looked like your father.

“You have a lovely home,” he said, turning his attention to the pair who were watching him intently.

“Thank you.” Maude smiled “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Sure.” Steve wasn’t much for tea, but he was taught not to refuse something offered by his host. Maude hurried off, leaving him and grumpy old Harold alone.

“Y/N doesn’t bring boys around.” Harold announced when his wife was out of the room. Steve didn’t really know what to say to that, luckily he continued “So what’re you trying to do with my girl?”

“Study,” Steve said with a shrug. The man scoffed, but Steve pressed on. “She’s my partner for our English final, we’re supposed to be working on it today, it’s due soon.”

Harold nodded gruffly “Alright…” he took a seat on the couch, turning the volume back on. The Love Boat was on, a rerun of the episode with guest stars the Captain and Tennille, and Steve was certain that they’d both seen it before.

Maude came in with a tray, handing her husband a mug. It was hand painted, thick script reading ‘Happy Father’s Day’ on the front, the year 1974 written in smaller script underneath in blue paint. She handed him a plain white mug.

“Well, Steve, you’re free to go and wait for Y/N upstairs, her room is two doors to the right of the stairs, you can’t miss it.” She said, gesturing to the stairwell. Steve bid his thanks and headed up the wide carpeted stairwell.

Harold mumbled something to his wife that Steve couldn’t hear, only catching her response. “He’s young, he doesn’t want to sit with us old folks.” She laughed at her own joke and Steve smiled at their friendly banter. They reminded him of his aunt and uncle, they always joked in that sort of way, laughing at themselves before anyone else. It made him feel as if he were at home in the house; he was comforted by the casualness of existence.

Maude was right that the room was impossible to miss. The door was covered in childlike butterflies painted in purple puffy paint. When he opened the bedroom door, he was transported into a small, private art gallery. The room was covered wall to wall in fabric canvases, canvas boards, and paper sketches. Your desk was covered in paint splotches and doodles carved into the wood, there were glow in the dark stars and moons on the blades of your ceiling fan. You’d painted your ceiling into a buttery sunset. It was as if for the first time, Steve was seeing all of you. And you were absolutely incandescent.

His hands went to roam your shelves, filled with sketchbooks and art books and worn copies of the classics. Greedily, he grabbed the first black sketchbook he found its pages heavy and curled. A piece of masking tape on the cover read ‘Still Life, 1980’ in black Sharpie. He flipped over the cover. Every page was the same bowl of fruit, some plain sketches, some painted in acrylics or water colours, but the fruit changed in shape and structure with every flip, rotting more with each sketch until the image switched to a vase of sunflowers, a prim and proper version of the Van Gogh he’d seen a print of in his freshman year art class. He wondered if you’d been there, silently making your own master pieces. He wondered how many masterpieces you had hidden away in your big black book.

The door opened behind him before he could put the sketch book away. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?” you snapped, bounding towards him. When your grandmother told you that your friend from school was upstairs waiting for you, you had a sinking feeling that you knew who it was. And seeing him rifling through your things made your blood boil.

Steve turned slowly, unsure what to say. You snatched the pad out of his hands “And who the fuck gave you permission to look at my stuff, you pervert!” You knew that he hadn’t done anything actually perverted, but you still felt violated.

“I can’t get you to talk to me, I figured coming here would at least make you see me.” Steve laughed a bit, unable to even process what was happening. In the back of his mind, he thought that this would be an effortlessly cool way to go about a solution. Like you’d see him in your room and think ‘wow…what an effort that was…’ Instead, you were furious.

“So, you thought that coming into my house without telling me, lying to my grandparents, and touching my stuff would make it better.” You raised an eyebrow, shoving your sketchbook onto the shelf.

“What was I supposed to do? You won’t answer my calls, you won’t talk to me, I can’t get you to look at me for more than a second and all I want to know is what I did wrong so I can fix it!” Steve cried, words tumbling out of his mouth. You both stared at each other for a moment, surprised by each other, your mouth hanging silently ajar.

You closed it fast, swallowing before speaking “You…you hurt my feelings.” You said softly, pushing past him to put distance between you, standing next to your desk and the window.

“How did I hurt your feelings?” Steve asked quietly, watching you carefully even as you stared defiantly out the window.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest “You cancelled our plans. For Vicki.”

“So?” Steve asked.

“So, I don’t cancel on you. I never cancel on you, especially not the day of. It hurt my feelings.” You explained, picking at a bit of lint on your sweater.

“Yeah, but I…” he tried to catch himself before he said something terrible, but you already knew what filled in the blank.

“What? You have more friends than me? Is that it?” you snapped. It was Steve’s turn to look away, but you pressed on. “You’re right, you do have more friends than me. But don’t act like I don’t have a social life without you. I do. Do you know how many games of Samantha’s I’ve skipped out on to help you study? How many practises she’s asked me to come and watch that I’ve said no to because I already had plans with you?”

“I don’t know…” Steve muttered. Embarrassment crept up his face. He felt like such a dick. In truth he had forgotten about your plans that day in the excitement of a date with Vicki. With hindsight in full effect he could see that he would’ve had twice as much fun with you eating greasy burgers then he did with Vicki driving around Hawkins.

“Well, it’s been a lot. And it’s not the fact that you went out with Vicki that upset me, you are free to date whoever you want. But can you please at least tell me if you’re cancelling a little sooner than mere minutes before?” you asked, your voice cracking on the end.

“Sure, yeah of course. I should’ve been doing that before.” Steve stumbled over his words to apologize.

“Okay.” You nodded “Now, why are you going through my shit?”

“I wanted to see more. This whole room is incredible.” Steve breathed, plopping down on your mattress.

“You think?” you asked quietly. In truth, you didn’t think that you were that good of an artist. You loved art, but you didn’t think you were exactly talented.

“It’s so cool!” you couldn’t help but laugh, or else you’d cry. Nobody ever talked about your art with such enthusiasm. Teachers only criticized mistakes and your mother and grandparents saw it as clutter. Samantha liked some stuff but she didn’t talk about it much. Even a simple compliment from Steve made you want to cry. You covered your mouth to avoid the tears.

Steve didn’t seem to notice, wandering the room to point out pieces he thought were interesting. He pointed to a canvas depicting the quarry. You’d camped out there one night in the summer; drawing until the sun fades out of the sky and then painting it out once you had it exactly right. “This one is just insane I mean it looks like it’s going to eat you whole, like it has teeth or something.” He exclaimed.

“You can have it.” You replied quickly.

Steve shook his head “No, I couldn’t I mean don’t you want it? For college apps or something?” he couldn’t take it, he’d feel too guilty.

You shrugged “I have enough stuff for at least three portfolios, you should have that one if you like it so much. It’ll make your room cooler.”

“Hey, my room is cool.” Steve pouted, making you laugh harder. He liked your laugh, it split your whole face open into a smile. And your smile looked as if it sat on a bed of clouds. He wanted to float along with it forever.

“Oh yeah, your pee wee t-ball participation trophy is real slick, it gets you all the chicks.” You drawling, bouncing on your mattress.

“Hey, you didn’t run when you saw it.” Steve shrugged, sitting down next to you.

“Eh, your baby sports escapades don’t frighten me. It adds character to know that you suck at something.” You replied. Steve thought briefly of the bat in his trunk and the weight of it mid-swing, connecting with a heavy skull. Better with a bat now then he was as an elementary schooler.

You both lay back on the mattress, staring up at the slowly turning fan. Steve turned to you “What’d you think of Vicki anyway?” he asked.

“Honestly?” Steve nodded “I think she’s a bitch.” Steve laughed loudly but you pressed on “She is! She’s so mean for no reason!”

“Yeah, she’s not cool. She spent our whole date bitching about people, saying a lot of shit about you.” Steve murmured.

“What’d you…” you didn’t know if you could ask how he responded. You bit your tongue before finishing the sentence.

Steve understood anyway “I told her the truth. That you’re a really cool chick and that she shouldn’t be such a bitch about people she doesn’t know.” He said simply, turning his attention back to the slowly moving stars.

You didn’t necessarily believe that he actually defended you. Still, you didn’t feel like arguing. Steve continued on in your silence. “So, do you live with your grandparents’ full time? Or do your parents just work?” he asked.

“Both,” you sighed softly “My mom’s not home very much so they take care of me. She’s a fashion photographer, travels all over the world for different magazines.”

“What about your dad?” Steve asked. He’d seen a younger man in the photo; he assumed that it was some kind of father figure.

“He died.” You muttered.

“Oh…” Steve didn’t know how to react to that. He wasn’t sure if he should apologize.

“She killed him.” You couldn’t help yourself from saying that. Anger still stewed into your bones whenever you thought about your parents.

“What?” Steve to fully look at you, flabbergasted.

“She worked him to death. She always wanted more and farther away from us. Trips to Europe, designer things, this stupid house. She killed him.” You wiped hard at your face, trying to keep the hot tears from streaming down your face. Steve didn’t say anything, he simply pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly into him and letting you cry. He patted your hair gently, trying to soothe you as best he could. He didn’t think he was very good at helping people in their pain. But you grabbed onto his middle and clung to him like a life raft.

“My parents aren’t that great either.” He muttered, unsure if he was helping at all. “They ignore me.”

“I-I’m sorry they do that…” you muttered, looking up at him with wide, wet eyes. Steve melted. He absolutely melted. He was filled with the sudden urge to kiss you, which surprised him. He didn’t follow through with the urge; he didn’t know how you’d take it.

“I’m sorry he’s not here for you…” he replied, petting your hair softly. He stayed with you like that for what felt like hours, letting you cling to him and ruin his shirt with tears. He didn’t care. He needed to be there for you. He promised himself that he wouldn’t hurt you again. That he’d be more careful and pay more attention. He couldn’t bear to see you in this much pain again. He knew that you weren’t crying because of him, but if he could keep you from feeling even an ounce of this sort of pain again, he would.

He cared about you too much to ever let you suffer alone again.

[flightrules]

Which Kind Do You Want to Be?

Chapter 4: Wanting

Either you're in completely over your head, or you're exactly where you need to be.

Summary: This is a story about trust and kindness, loneliness and loss, belief and transgression. And two people crossing paths just long enough to find each other.

Chapter 1    Chapter 2    Chapter 3   Read on AO3

Relationships and characters: Din/female reader (both similar age to Din in canon), Grogu, and a cameo from Peli.

Rating: Mature? Explicit? Anyhow, grown-up sexy stuff in later chapters. Please be old enough to be reading this kind of thing.

Tags and warnings: Moments of angst, domesticity, kindness, explicit consent, and Din doing his best to be a conscientious parent in the midst of everything. Heads up for descriptions of canon-typical violence, mention of past dubious consent, and a moment of (unintentional) violence between our protagonists. Ending is bittersweet.

You finish the food in your ration tray while he carries the child to his sleeping quarters. You can hear him responding patiently to the child's babbles. 

"We can play after your nap."

"Yes I know I promised. Sleep first."

And finally, "See, I knew you were tired." He pats the child's head and tucks the blanket in around him. 

The door to the sleeping compartment slides closed.

"He'll be ok alone in there?" you ask.

"He knows how to open the door." 

“I didn’t realize how deep that all went," you say as he sits back down across from you. "I never knew the history."

He's sitting with elbows and forearms resting on the table, and it would look casual if you hadn't started to notice how straight he sits when he's uncomfortable. You wonder if he’s practiced this pose, for negotiations maybe. Look like you're off your guard, even when you're not.

“It’s not your responsibility to know," he says. "It's my responsibility to remember.”

“It’s a little like the people from Alderaan, isn’t it?" You're trying to show him you want to understand. "Not very many of them, now. Only the ones who were off-planet."

There's an edge in his voice when he replies. “Alderaan was a place, not a way of life.”

"I guess that's true. And they live out in the open,” you add, acknowledging the difference.

“People don’t hunt Alderaanians for sport." The last word comes out sharp, sounding bitter.

Now you’re not sure what to say.

He shakes his head, looking down now at his gloveless hands. "It's not the same."

You could remind him, A lot of people have lost a lot. You could say, I have, too. You could say, You're lucky. You still have people who would know you. You can tell an old story and they'll recognize the words.

This is not a contest, though. He doesn't need to carry your history along with his.

"Everyone calls you ‘Mando.’ Do you mind that?”

“Names would let them count us. Find us," he says, still looking at his hands. "It's better this way.” He reaches across the table to stack your empty ration tray on top of the child's and then both of them atop his own. "I'll get these cleaned up."

He carries the trays to the little galley, flipping open the panel that hides the narrow counter and small sink.

Even through his shirt, you can see how the muscles in his back move as he turns on a trickle of water to wet a cloth, then begins cleaning the trays by hand. 

You could get up and go over there, rest your head against the back of his neck and put your arms around him. He's used to having his hands covered in cloth and leather, but your hands were trained to give comfort. Learning to fight was a necessity, never a matter of pride. Except… over the years it has been. Being good at your job has been something to hold onto, when there wasn’t anything left. 

You could stay where you are. You can smash down desire. Consent is sacred: You learned how to respect that even before you understood what those feelings were about. You could get through the next couple days of ship’s time, walk down the ramp at Pavotha, and leave this whole thing behind. Leave behind his complicated story and your part in it. 

You’ve gone a while without having anyone to get naked with. You can go a little longer. 

That would be the simple choice.

It’s harder to ignore how much you miss just trusting someone. Or how much that’s tied up, in your head, with everything else you’ve been through. 

You can let him lead, here, but that only works if he’s telling you where to follow. "I need to know what you want."

He turns to look at you, moving his head and shoulders as if he still had a helmet on and was looking through the visor.

"I need to find the child's people," he says before turning to face the little sink again, and that's not what you meant at all.

"I need to know what you want from me."

"I don't…" He doesn't finish the sentence.

"I'm not expecting you to go through with anything," you say to his back. "I just want to know if you'd rather I keep my distance."

He finishes rinsing the trays and sets them on the narrow counter. "You don't have to." 

"Do you want me to?"

He closes the panel and leans against the wall beside it, instead of coming back to sit. "No."

"Can I ask you a question?"

He laughs that short laugh. "You're doing fine so far."

Are you, though? Or are you wading again into depths you don't understand? Your culture’s directness doesn’t always fly in other parts of the galaxy, and you’ve learned to tone it down. But so far it’s gone over fine with him. "What does your Creed say about sex?"

He answers you just as directly. "Be respectful,” he says. “Don't make a child you can't care for." 

"But as long as you’re careful, it’s not forbidden?"

He looks puzzled. "No."

"So, you have been with someone. People. Before."

"Yes."

“A lot?”

“Why does this matter?”

“We said, trust,” you remind him, suddenly nervous about whether or not he’ll answer.

He sighs. “If you put a bunch of teenagers together, things are going to happen.”

You’re still guessing you’re around the same age, or he’s maybe a little older. You haven’t been a teenager in over 20 years. “When you were in training?”

He nods, a brief movement. “The fighting corps lived together and fought together. Sometimes people would--” He finishes that with a shrug.

“And what was that like?”

That laugh again. It’s hard to tell if he’s actually amused, or just looking to diffuse the moment. “Mostly it was fast.”

When you were in your teens, you were surrounded by adults who taught you about respect and consent and contraception, and then left you space to be alone with yourself or anyone you invited to join you. You had plenty of partners to learn alongside you, and plenty of time. 

“Didn’t they give you any privacy? Couldn’t you spend time with someone if you wanted to?”

“Yes. There was time. They were kind to us.” He seems to think about that. “Some people did.”

Your memories of learning about sex are sweet. Memories of clumsiness and laughter, of first touches and physical highs you’ve never quite recaptured, even in all these years. “Fast,” you say back to him. “Do you want to try something slow?”

The look on his face is hard to read. It’s been interesting to see how sometimes you’re looking at unguarded emotion and sometimes he may as well still have the helmet on. 

Eventually he nods.

“Is that yes?” you ask, to be sure.

“Yes.”

He doesn’t make a move toward you, though, so instead you get up and go to him. He’s still leaning against the wall as you step up close. You stand there waiting to see if he’ll stop you. He doesn’t move, just watches you. But when you go to slide a hand slowly down the side of his face, he moves his head away.

“Can we not do this here?”

Here, in the hold? In this spot? On this ship?

“Not like this,” he says. He sidesteps you to move away from the wall. “Anywhere else.”

It’s his ship, his space, but it seems he’s going to wait for you to decide. There aren't a lot of choices. There's the little room where he sleeps, but the child's tucked up in there and you're not going to bother him. You've rolled up your makeshift bed, and anyway although it's been comfortable enough it's not exactly cozy. 

Making out in the carbon freeze unit would certainly be kinky, but hell no.

“What was wrong with--” you nod toward the wall where he’d been standing.

He reaches for your hand, pausing just before he touches you to wait until reach back. Then he leads you away from the table, over to the space where the two of you sat last night, leaning against the cupboards with drinks in your hands. “Sit with me?”

You do, and he carefully takes your hand again, his palm against yours and fingers intertwined. “I never had much say in it.” He shrugs. “When you’re seventeen and someone gets you up against a wall and reaches for you. I never knew how to say no.” 

That’s... “Is that what you meant by fast?”

He sighs. “There wasn’t anything wrong about it. People needed to work off their energy after a fight. I could have said no. I never did.”

“So the other day when I asked you to--” Stars. “I’m surprised you didn’t throw me off your ship.”

“I’m a little older now. I know how to say what I want.”

“Do you?”

“I know how to say no.” He leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. “I know how to provide for a covert. I know I need to protect the child. Besides that? I have no idea what I actually want.” A few seconds later he adds, “How do you know what choices are right, if you don’t have rules to follow?”

You open your mouth to answer and then stop. You haven’t had rules to follow since the early days of the Empire, when your village refused to tithe. Since your people learned to fire blasters, to fight hand-to-hand, to hurt instead of comfort. Since you’d all set aside everything you believed in, to be ready to say no to troops who would come to take your crops, your young people, all that you had. 

The Empire had simply flattened your village from the air. 

You’d been off-world on a supply run, gathering the few things your people couldn’t grow or make. You came home to ashes and bones. 

You separate your hand from his and hold it up between you. Pre-Empire, you’d never even seen bruises like that. “My people would be horrified if they knew. That I make a living with my fists.”

“Your people sound kind,” he says. “Can’t you go back?”

Why haven’t you told him yet? I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to talk about it. I want to think that they’re still there. “There’s nothing to go back to.”

“Ah,” he says, and it’s the softest sound. 

“I know what I want,” you say. “I just don’t get to have it.”

“What,” he says, echoing your own question from earlier, “do you want from me?”

What you want is to spend a few hours back in a time when your muscles would hurt from digging up ground-fruit, not from hand-to-hand combat and dodging blaster fire. When you could catch a man’s eye, share a smile, share a few hours in bed together and know you would part again as friends. When trust was as natural as breathing. 

What I want is to pretend that I am home. 

“I still want what I offered,” you tell him. “Which was to get naked with an attractive man and celebrate the fact that we’re alive. That was you,” you add, “in case you had any doubt. But what I also want is for you to want it. If you don’t then… It wouldn’t be any fun.”

“You said slow,” he says.

You find yourself smiling at him, and when his eyes meet yours he’s smiling back. “The word for stop is still stop?” you say.

“I’ll remember.”

But then, you’re not sure what to do next. If all he’s known is what he’s told you--You’re picturing him at seventeen, letting someone touch him and not even being sure he wants what’s happening. “Who goes first?”

“Show me.” he says.

You shift up onto your knees to face him, so that you’re kneeling beside him with your own thigh touching his. The first thing you do is brush those curls back from his forehead. He’s watching you as you slide your fingers through his hair, over the back of his head and down, around to his collarbone, then out to his shoulders. You lean in to kiss the side of his neck where your fingers just traced, and the sound he makes is going to make slow a bit of a challenge.

When you sit back, he’s already reaching toward you to echo your movements. For someone with so little experience, his hands are sure as he traces over your scalp and along your neck. But then he pauses. “I don’t know how,” he says, and you remember what he told you before this all started. 

You take his hand and lift it to your mouth. “Like this.” The first kiss you place against his knuckles is feather-light. You follow it with lips just slightly parted, just the slightest bit of suction against his skin. He makes that sound again and you set his hand down quickly, before the thinking part of your brain cedes control.

He drags his fingers along your neck again, from the soft place behind your ear down to your collarbone, then uses his other hand on the back of your neck to draw you toward him as he leans forward. His mouth against your skin is clumsy, the feel of it bringing you back to your own first tries, so many years ago. 

It makes your nerves light up anyway, a line of warmth running down your whole right side. You find yourself tilting your head to the side so it’s easier for him to kiss you there again. 

But he’s already pulling back. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I’m going to ask you a favor,” you say. “I’m going to ask you to stop worrying about that.”

"I’m taking advantage of your kindness.”

At first you’re not even sure what to say. You’re here with him like this because you want to be. You can’t help noticing that he’s gorgeous, but even more than that-- He’s been kind to you.

You’ve seen how precise he is with a blaster, and how quick to use it. Your people would be worried, to see you with a man like this. To see you here.  

The tears start before you even realize you’re about to cry. 

“Oh. No, no…” He sounds stricken, but his arms go around you without hesitation, pulling you onto his lap and holding you close. He’s resting his head against yours, murmuring against your hair. “No,” he says again, and then words you don’t understand, but they sound so gentle. “Burc'ya… ner burc'ya… ne naari trikar'la...”

You turn your face in against his shoulder, letting the warmth of his body sink into your own. 

For a long while, his hands simply rest against your back, palms flat and fingers splayed, and you’re surprised how safe it makes you feel. Like his arms are your own armor, and nothing bad could happen to you here. Eventually though he’s shifting his hands down to tug at your shirt where it’s tucked into your trousers, and you find your body tensing up. It’s not that you don’t still want to feel his skin against yours, to get him out of his own shirt and find out what happens when you drag your teeth over his ribs. But in these recent years… It wouldn’t be the first time a man took what he wanted when you were feeling vulnerable. When a man suddenly seemed to forget the word for stop.

But this man, he just draws his hands up along your back again, palms against your bare skin now, and settles you back against him. All this time, he’s stayed away from the burn on your shoulder blade, as if he’s never forgotten it’s there. 

Between the warmth of being so close to him and the soft rumble of the ship's engines, there's a deep tiredness stealing in on you. You're trying to muster the energy to move again, maybe to slip your own hands beneath his shirt, when he speaks above your head. "I should take care of the armor." The sound is a vibration through his chest.

"Right now?"

His hands move down to your hips, and then strong arms are moving your body so you're no longer tightly pressed together. But it's only so he can kiss the place between your shoulder and your neck, much more confident this time. "It can wait."

You're contemplating trying to get his shirt over his head when there's a sound from the sleeping compartment and then a little face with big, dark eyes looking curiously at the two of you. 

You immediately drop your hands. "Hi, little one."

He's already moving your body from his lap, but it's careful, not a shove. "Did you have a good nap?" 

The little creature tilts his head at the both of you, and then turns and scurries away.

"Did we scare him?"

But the man is smiling, looking where the child went. "He wants to play chase." He turns to you and you smile helplessly back, already smoothing down your clothes and getting ready to stand 

He raises his voice a bit, for the child's benefit. "I don't know if I can catch him."

"Go on," you say. "I'll catch up." It's a completely silly thing to say in this cramped ship's hold, but it seems to make sense in the moment.

He nods at you and climbs to his feet, a brief groan betraying how stiff his muscles must be after all this time sitting on the floor. He's off after the child in a slow-motion run, giving him plenty of time to stay ahead. 

You spend a little while watching them, the child dodging behind crates, the man pretending not to know where he's gone. 

Then, you go join in the fun.

Translation (pardon my awful Mando’a): Burc'ya… ner burc'ya… ne naari trikar'la. Friend... my friend... Don't be sad.

[nalgenewhore]

With My Life - Chapter Two

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter

warnings:  (all graphic) violence, gun violence, blood, smut, implied PTSD

Elide slept fitfully for a couple hours more after Lorcan left. After ten minutes of hiding from the sun by burying her face in his pillow and switching positions every thirty seconds, Elide decided to accept the fact that she wouldn’t fall back to sleep and there was nothing she could do about it. 

With a sigh, Elide got up and padded over to his closet, swapping his black dress shirt for a pair of sweats that practically drowned her and one of his old hoodies. She walked over to the dresser he kept, opened the top drawer that she had slowly begun to take over and grabbed her tortoise shell hair clamp to twist her short but thick hair and clip it back. 

Then, she walked out of his room, out the short hallway before she got to the top of the stairs, which were located beside the windows that went from the floor to the ceiling of his second floor. Elide stepped down the stairs, her hand resting elegantly on the railing. 

Elide sighed again and rubbed her eyes as she walked into his pristine, state of the art kitchen. 

She looked out the wall of floor to ceiling windows, wondering where in the city Lorcan’s clients would take him today as she filled up the kettle in the sink. 

After putting it on the stove and turning the burner on, Elide picked up the remote control and turned on the big, sleek flatscreen. A voice in the back of her mind reminded her the revisions for her thesis weren’t done yet. Elide scowled as she flipped through the channels and landed on a rerun of a baking show. 

Reasoning with herself, she decided to take the day off. Between the extra class load undergrad psych courses she’d agreed to teach and research for her graduate degree, as well as spending more and more time with Lorcan… she deserved a break. 

Taking the day off would give her time to think about them. And about dinner. 

Elide thought about their relationship as she fixed herself a cup of tea. Being with Lorcan was simple. Not at all serious, just some harmless fun, but still, quite possibly her most valued relationship nonetheless. 

There were times, so many gods-damned times when she wanted more. And thought that he felt that way, too. 

Like when their intimate activities were done for the night, when they both passed out where they dropped onto the sheets, Lorcan would search the king-sized mattress until he could pull her close against him. In all the nights she had spent with him, Elide had not once fallen asleep without his arms around her. Or when he had had a hard day, he would call her in the middle of the night - when he knew she was still up working tirelessly on her degree - just to hear her talk and ramble about whatever she’d learned that day. 

He listened to her like… he loved her, like she loved him. 

He trusted her with his life and he wanted to talk to her. What else could he have to say, right? 

Elide had a distinct feeling that everything as they knew it would change today.

+*+*+*+*+*+* 

Get in. 

Get the list. 

Get out. 

Lorcan repeated it like a mantra as he moved through the seemingly abandoned building like a shadow. He breathed calmly, keeping his nerves in check. It’s just another work day, keeping it together, he told himself, schooling himself into detached neutrality as he continued through the house. 

Methodically, he checked every room he passed, toeing the door open and stepping in, smoothly pointing his gun and checking every inch of space before moving on. 

He listened intently, his ears nearly twitching with every sound besides his own breathing and steady steps. 

The radio in his ear crackled to life, “Upstairs, second door on the right.” Connall and the team at headquarters had been tracking the computer - the one that held Erawan’s list of suppliers and dealers - for months and it would finally come to an end today. 

The house around him remained eerily quiet, but Lorcan shook it off as his own tension as he moved up the stairs, studying them briefly and avoiding places he knew would creak too loudly. 

Like the good spy, like the good little soldier he was years ago, Lorcan checked the first rooms first, then the one opposite the room the computer was in. Nobody was there. 

And just when he was thinking the gods hadn’t forsaken him again, Lorcan walked into the second room on the right and bit back his low curse. It was stupid, juvenile and foolish to think that the gods had ever cared, for the man sitting behind the very laptop countless people had died for had a bullet wound in the middle of his forehead and the wall behind him was splattered with blood and the laptop had been torn apart. 

“C?” 

“L?” 

“They got it. Laptop’s ripped open and,” he walked in further, swallowing his gag at the reek of blood, “they shot their guy. Been here… half an hour, at most.” Which meant someone was following him. 

There was a pause and Lorcan heard Connall take a breath to speak but then, “Wait. Shh.” 

Connall didn’t fight it, didn’t speak another word as Lorcan listened, narrowing his eyes and slowly putting his gun back in his shoulder holster. He could’ve sworn he’d heard something coming from… the hallway. 

Lorcan gave the room one last glance and stepped out into the hallway, just in time to see a black clad figure sprint down the hall and jump, crashing through the window and onto the streets below them. 

“What was that?” Connall asked, evidently having heard the glass smashing. 

“The list,” Lorcan bit out, already moving when Connall told him Nehemia was tracking the hard drive. “I’m in pursuit.” 

Lorcan ran to the end of the hall, stopping himself from crashing through the pane and searching the rooftops. Two buildings away, there was that same shrouded figure hopping along the buildings of Morath, glancing back at Lorcan every so often. 

“Tell Elide I’ll be late.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Her plan for a day off hadn’t worked. Elide had tried to relax, as Lorcan told her to constantly. She snorted to herself as she highlighted a passage and switched to a blue pen, scrawling a note on the margin. It was rich coming from Lorcan. The man could barely sit still for a half hour show without fiddling with something, dropping into push-ups or another exercise. 

There were a couple trays of cranberry-orange muffins sitting idly by, ones Elide had made after getting a craving from the baking shows. She plucked one up, mindlessly picking at it and thinking to herself. 

Her thesis advisor and mentor, a man named Weylan Darrow, sent her an email about her next review panel and she clicked on it, reading through his notes. He was a crotchety old man, that is, to everyone except Elide. He had developed a bit of a soft spot for her over the past couple years. 

He had been a huge help - a godsend, really, during the years. Being a former foster child herself, writing on how the system affected cognitive development was a personal and delicate subject for her, but Darrow, as he preferred to be called, had always respected boundaries and pushed her to take time off when she needed it. 

Elide zoned out and absentmindedly munched on her muffin, only realizing she’d been sitting at the kitchen island, staring off into space for a couple minutes when the buzzer sounded. 

She got up and padded over to it, furrowing her brow as she tried to recall which button it was to talk. The largest was lit up and flashing green, so she took a chance and held it down as she said, “Hello?” 

“Miss Lochan?” 

“Yes?” 

“Mr. Salvaterre had a package delivered for you. Would you like me to bring it up?” 

Elide shook her head, forgetting for a second that they couldn’t see her. “Oh, no, Malakai, I’ll be down soon.” 

“Alright, Miss Lochan. See you soon.” 

Elide walked back to the counter and put ten or so muffins into a container for Malakai and his husband before she slipped on her shoes and went downstairs, wondering what on earth Lorcan had sent her. 

One of his neighbours was in the elevator with her and they chatted idly. The older woman was a sweetheart and Elide gave her a muffin from the container, graciously thanking her for the invitation to have tea later that day. 

Elide bid the woman good-bye and smiled at Malakai, handing him the container, “Fresh from the oven.” 

He smiled and put the container under the front desk, coming back up with a sleek, black and silver edged dress box, tied together with a matching silver ribbon. “For you and,” he pulled up a matching black and silver bag with silver ribbon handles, “for you. There’s a note in there, too.” 

She smiled, trying to control her blush as she fit the bag’s handles in her elbow and picked up the box, ignoring Malakai’s cheeky wink. “Oh, stop it.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

Elide just rolled her eyes and went back upstairs, making herself wait until she returned to the penthouse to open it. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Marama, do you have eyes on Salvaterre?”  

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Lorcan hardly heard the words flying over the radio in his ear as he dodged a cheap punch, ramming his elbow up into the masked figure’s face, hearing the telltale crunch of the man’s nose and using the advantage of the man’s head snapping back to lock him in a chokehold and put pressure on his windpipe. “Where is it?” 

The man spoke an ancient, dirty language - one of the man legends say tried to rip the world in two. Lorcan snarled in his ear, gripping the top of his mask, “Tell me where it is or I swear to Hellas, I’ll throw you off this gods-damned bridge. Tell me where it is.” 

The man fought for breath and Lorcan let him struggle before loosening his hold, letting the man believe he had the advantage. “You will never find it.” 

“I need two more minutes,” Nehemia said, her voice tinged in desperation. 

During the chase across the city to the decrepit bridge they stood on now, the man had dropped the hard drive, the small black square escaping Lorcan’s attention. Nehemia had managed to track it somehow, probably from the original tracker they had planted in the computer, and was deciphering its security features. 

Lorcan ripped the mask from the man, turning him and leaning him over the railing, “Tell me where it is.” 

Erawan’s man’s pupils were dilated, leaving only a thin circle of watery blue around the depthless black. Most of the fanatic’s forces took a drug hybrid Erawan and his team had crafted themselves and flooded the streets of every major international city with, a drug called Wyrd. It made one feel invincible, making them believe they could withstand any physical act like torture and harm. 

Really, it just severed the pain receptor connection and the majority of users ended up near dead in the hospitals. 

“You cannot stop the prophecy. He will reign supreme,” the man promised, choking slightly as the blood from his broken nose slid down his throat. 

Lorcan fought the urge to roll his eyes and gripped the man’s collar, twisting the material until he could barely get a breath in, “I will break your neck, tell me where it is.” 

The man clamped his jaw shut, biting down so hard and fast that Lorcan saw a cracked tooth when the man attempted to spit on him and instead, drooled down his weak chin. “You… you…will never… know.”

“Are you in position,” that hissing viper voice snapped, not one part of the sentence in question. 

“Yes, ma’am. Three buildings southwest, clear view of Salvaterre and target.” 

Lorcan was distracted for a split second by listening to Fenrys’ location, and the man grabbed at the chance, ramming his knee up between Lorcan’s legs and pushing him off. 

That quickly, Lorcan was incapacitated by the pain in his body, hardly fighting the target as he stomped on his knee, forcing it to bend in a way no knee should. He swallowed his scream of pain, his head whipping to the side when he was punched in the face, already tasting blood in his mouth and spitting it onto the ground before fighting back. 

The man was relentless, with zero regard for his own protection as he rained blows down on Lorcan, lashing out with his feet and knees. 

Lorcan snarled and easily sidestepped the next punch, returning one of his own to the throat and one to his solar plexus. The man stumbled back, blood and saliva leaking down his face and fighting for breath. 

Panting, the man attempted to strike, a hard jab to the stomach that had Lorcan bending reflexively and giving the man just enough time to slip away and sprint towards the city.  

Lorcan groaned in pain, rasping to the earpiece, “He’s running.” 

“I got him,” Fenrys said and Lorcan started running, pushing his agony down down down. “I got him.” 

The man’s multitude of injuries started to heed his escape as Lorcan used every lesson drilled into him to keep his mind off the white hot pain in his left knee and tackled him to the ground, quickly pressing his knees into the man’s elbows and using his weight to keep him down. “Where the fuck did you put it?” 

The man pressed his lips together, pure rage and unadulterated fury in his eyes. Somehow, he slipped his arm free and slashed, slicing the knife Lorcan didn’t know he had down Lorcan’s right cheekbone. Then, the target flipped them as Lorcan felt warm blood leak down his face and pressed the tip of his knife into Lorcan’s throat. “I will never tell you. The prophecy must come true, our king will be crowned at last.” 

“What’s the hold up,” Maeve snarled, wondering why he hadn’t shot yet. 

Lorcan remained as still as possible, the cool metal edge of the blade cutting into his skin. He felt warm blood drip and pool in the hollow of his throat as Fenrys said he couldn’t get a clear shot. 

“Take the fucking shot,” Maeve ordered and the target was distracted by something. 

That quick, Lorcan shoved him off, flipping them just as he heard the distinct sound of a bullet being shot through the radio and nearly instantaneously, searing pain ripped through his left side, forcing him to take a step back. 

He bumped into something cold and metal, pausing as he slowly looked down and lifted his fingers to the hole in his black tactical shirt. They came away red and as if life was in slow motion, he looked up at the target, whose own eyes were widening. Swallowing thickly, Lorcan whispered, “Agent down.” 

Then, he stumbled back another step and hit the railing, tipping over it and falling to the river. 

The wind whipped at his body and he was so tired, he was in so much pain. 

Eventually, he hit the water below with a resounding boom, the spray nearly touching the bridge he’d fallen from. As he grasped to the tendrils of life as the current swept him under, he felt someone cup his face and opened his eyes. 

Elide floated above him, a gentle, peaceful sort of smile playing at her round lips. She didn’t say a thing and Lorcan tried, tried to tell her the words that had been locked away inside his ancient, wicked heart for an eternity, but there was too much water, down his throat, down his nose, in his eyes. 

Elide Lochan, I love you.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

It was a quarter to eight and Elide looked at herself in the mirror, appraising the vision. She could almost imagine how Lorcan would react. 

First, his eyes would catch on her face and he’d smile - he always did and he never noticed. 

Then, in afterthought, he would flick his gaze over her body and pause, his lips parting in a soft gasp as he drank in the sight of her curves. He would sear her skin with his stare as he looked at the way the black silk of the dress he’d bought her slid over her body, delicate diamond decorated straps that attached the cowl neckline to the low-cut back and left her creamy skin on almost full display.

Lorcan would walk up slowly, looking up and down her figure and then ruin the moment by doing something juvenile like grabbing her ass or saying something crass that had her laughing even though she would deny it until she was blue in the face. 

Elide reached over for her earrings, single drop diamonds that had once belonged to her mother. She cast a harsh glance over her makeup, her cheeks heating at the deep maroon lip. Lorcan had a little bit of a thing for coloured lipsticks and liked to have her leave marks over his body, smeared against his across his skin.

She heard a knock on the door and her stomach clenched in anticipation. Elide breathed out slowly as she walked out of the bathroom and down the stairs, one hand holding her swishy skirt and biting back her smile as she waltzed across the front hall and put her hand on the cool silver handle. 

With one last calming sigh, she opened the door, not at all prepared to see Rowan and Connall standing on the doorstep, wearing somber faces. “Oh, hi. Lorcan’s not here right now, he’s still at work, I think. We’re going out.” 

They looked at each other with unease and Connall stepped forward, the moon to his brother’s sun wearing a broken expression. “Ellie…” 

She curled her shaking hands into fists, determined to not let them see her breakdown over nothing. Lorcan probably had to work late, she understood. They could reschedule. 

“Ellie, Lorcan’s not… he’s not…” Connall’s voice died off and he looked in desperation at Rowan, who looked seconds from tears. 

Her voice was dry and cracked when she dared whisper a question for which she dreaded the answer,

“Where is he?”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

oh he fucking dead doe - that’s where he is 😳 anyways, i just wanted to let everyone know that i will not be posting as often as i did with previous wips - frankly, i can’t keep it up, i’ve been writing pretty much nonstop since april and im a lil tired. there are other contributing factors (ie, i have thirty chapters planned out + an extra scene and im writing it serially which i don’t usually do) but yeah, that’s what’s up! i am hoping to post twice a week on sundays and wednesdays (8pm pacific time babey) and that may drop to once but whatcha gonna do 

@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @ttakeitbacknoww @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @amren-courtofdreams @minaidss​ @superspiritfestival @lovemollywho @queen-of-glass @jlinez @sleeping-and-books @ireallyshouldsleeprn @verypaleninja

[raiseyourcups]

Cabur

Chapter Nine

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (Aili Verdella) Warnings: Reckless piloting of the Razor Crest, Aili calls Mando stupid but what else is new, she also threatens Toro but who wouldn’t, a little more pining (someone please catch the classic reference I used), people imply those two are together Word Count: 3.5k Also on AO3 

Masterlist

Summary: After a dogfight, the Mandalorian, Aili, and the Child take a pit stop on Tatooine where Mando finds them a job teaming up with a wannabe Guild member. Aili thinks Mando is hilarious when she finds out who they’re going after but she wouldn’t miss out on this job for anything now. Even if their “partner” is as big an idiot as Mando. 

"Move!" Aili shoved the Mandalorian as hard as she could before grabbing the main piloting controls from him. He wasn't the worst pilot but if they wanted to make it out of this dogfight in one piece, they'd need a little more finesse. He had already let the other bounty hunter land a hit on one of the engines. She shook her head in exasperation when Mando didn't move from the pilot seat so she stood in the small space between his seat and the controls. 

"I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold," the hunter said over the comm and Aili rolled her eyes at the cliche saying. She didn't even bother saying anything, pulling the controls hard to the side to avoid another shot.

"That's my line." Mando said from behind her and Aili let out an irritated sound. Was that really what he was annoyed about right now? It didn’t matter though, she was too busy calculating a way to get rid of the other hunter. It took another half a second before she knew what to do about him but she wasn't in a chair right now because Mando didn’t seem to want to move.

"Do me a favor, di’kut, don't let me go flying into the ceiling." She didn't give Mando a chance to ask what she meant before she started to pull the ship into a barrel roll in order to land in the space behind the other hunter's ship. She heard Mando let out a noise of surprise when the flip started and he moved forward to place one hand on her waist to keep her from losing her balance, his other hand coming to rest against the small of her back to keep her from moving backwards. She blamed the way her stomach lurched on the barrel roll itself because obviously that’s what it was that caused it. 

"Thanks." She said, before aiming at the other ship and firing once it was in the sights. She smirked as she heard the man scream before the ship exploded. "And that's how you do that."

She didn't get more time to gloat when the ship gave a sudden lurch and she fell backwards onto the Mandalorian's lap. His one hand was still on her waist while the other one slipped from her back to the other side of her waist. Aili’s side involuntarily twitched at the way his hand moved but she decidedly ignored this.

"That's the engine." She scrambled out of the Mandalorian’s hold and got back to her own seat to check over the nav panels. She had absolutely no idea where they were. 

Mando took a moment, flexing his hands before shaking his head and checking over his own panels, "We're losing fuel." 

“Well that’s just great,” Aili said, finally figuring out what the nearest planet to them was. Thankfully it was a useful one. “Tatooine is our best bet.”

That was when the engine powered down and everything shut off, including the lights. The Child let out an excited coo and Aili wondered how he could find this fun. Then again her idea of fun as a kid used to be getting a new blaster so maybe she wasn’t the best judge. Mando let out a sigh and got up to power the engine back up, though it wouldn't last much longer. They were right by Tatooine like Aili said and Mando made for it, switching on the radio as he did.

"This is Mos Eisley Tower, we are tracking you. Head for bay three-five. Peli Motto is the mechanic there, over." The tower operator’s bored voice sounded throughout the cabin. 

"Copy that," Aili said, giving Mando the chance to put all of his focus on getting them through the atmo without killing them all. "Locked in for three-five."

He brought them in as smoothly as possible, Aili would give him a little credit for that considering the engines had both taken hits. She wasn’t going to do so out loud though, he still hadn’t thanked her for fixing the gen room. She had nightmares about the crossed wiring and still wondered how it hadn’t blown up earlier. 

Aili winced as she heard the creaking and groaning as the landing gear came out. Yeah that, that wasn’t good. “Here’s hoping it’s not too expensive,” Aili said as they both got up from their seats. A quiet coo distracted Mando before he could reply and Aili let out a quiet chuckle as she looked down at the Child whose eyes were drooping closed. 

Aili watched as Mando laid the Child down in the cot, a small smile on her face. He had gotten himself so excited earlier that now he had tired himself out. They headed down to the gangway and that's when Mando decided to shoot at the ground in front of the small droids.

"What the kriff, Mando?" Aili exclaimed, her immediate reaction being to reach over and force his blaster arm down to his side. "It's just a pit droid!"

"Hey! You damage one of my droids and I'll make you pay for it!" The mechanic, Peli, came out shouting and Aili knew she’d have to turn up the charm now. If there was one person you didn’t want to piss off, it was the one who was going to be fixing your ship. Mando was lucky last time when she helped fix the gen room because she was also stuck on the ship so no matter how much he pissed her off, she wouldn’t cross any wires. Not if she wanted to stay alive that is. 

Aili turned to the mechanic, Peli, and gave her an apologetic smile. The one that worked on everyone that she had ever met.  "Sorry about him."

"Keep them away from my ship," Mando said, walking the rest of the way down the gangway with Aili behind him. She felt her eye twitch in annoyance. 

"Really sorry about him,” Aili added, subtly reaching over and pinching him hard through the arm of the suit he wore. He flinched and looked down at her, she could read the irritation in his body but she didn’t care. She shook her head at him, her brow furrowed in annoyance, before turning back to the mechanic with another smile. 

"Yeah well let me take a look at your ship. See if that’s a good idea." Peli walked over to the Crest, banging on one section before she looked up and pulled out a scanner. “You’ve got a lot of carbon scoring up top. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in a shootout.”

“We were, some idiot bounty hunter got our ship confused with another. Took us almost half a parsec to lose him,” Aili said, making sure to sound as exasperated as possible. The mechanic turned to look at her, sizing her up almost to see if she was lying. 

“Huh,” Peli finally shrugged, turning back to the ship. “I’m gonna have to rotate that. You’ve got a fuel leak! This is a mess, I’m surprised you could even land!”

“We were honestly just glad to break atmo without anything catching on fire.”

She walked away from the ship and looked at them with pursed lips, “This is gonna set you two back.”

“I’ve got 500 Imperial credits,” Mando said, pulling the credits out as he did.

“And I have 500 Calamari Flan,” Aili added as she pulled her credits out as well, already internally wincing at the fact that she was having to dip into the nest egg she had saved up. But it wasn’t like they had been able to take any jobs since leaving Nevarro, the villagers on Sorgan had already been kind enough to not charge them anything for their room and board. Had said taking care of the raiders was enough payment for the three of them to stay for weeks. 

“That should cover the hangar and the fuel leak,” Peli said as she took both of their payments. 

“We’ll get you your money.” Mando said shortly. Although Aili thought she heard a hint of embarrassment in his tone. She couldn’t blame him, even when times were rough she always had enough to get her ship fixed when it needed to be. Right now though she was trying to keep a persona on and since she was the only one who had a visible expression, it all fell on her to sell the act. 

“Heard that one before.”

“Just remember-”

“She gets it Mando, no droids. Why don’t you head out and I’ll catch up with you at the cantina in a few?” Aili ordered more than asked while still keeping her voice even. Mando stared down at her for a long moment before nodding and turning to leave. She knew he’d have no option other than the cantina because there was nowhere else to ask around for a job on the planet anyway. She watched as he left before turning to face Peli again. 

“I’m really sorry about him, it’s been...a very long day,” Aili said, brow a little furrowed as she spoke to Peli. Hopefully she wasn’t selling it too hard but she couldn’t be bothered to really try at the moment. 

“With the amount of damage you took, I can imagine.” Peli said, brow still raised in annoyance. She still thought she wouldn’t be getting paid for her work and Aili couldn’t blame her. They had barely given her enough to cover the hangar and one of the multiple repairs they needed. 

“We promise to pay you, this is Tatooine. There’s always some idiot with a job.”

“Been here often?”

“More times than I’ve wanted.” Aili let out a short laugh with no actual humor behind it. “I should go catch up with him, make sure he doesn’t pick a crap job.”

“Good luck with that, he doesn’t seem like the brightest star in the galaxy.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Aili turned to leave when she paused at the thought of the sleeping Child on the ship. Maybe she should tell the woman about him, but she didn’t know how far information on his bounty had travelled. She wrestled with herself for a moment before turning back to face Peli.

“Oh, also I just want to let you know that we have a child on the ship, but he’s sleeping right now.”

“You and the Mandalorian have a child?” Peli asked, voice incredulous at the thought. She had noticed the way the other woman had seemed to barely tolerate the Mandalorian and vice versa. 

Aili couldn’t stop the full body shudder that went through her at the mere thought of not only having a child but having one with the Mandalorian. “Oh Maker no! No, ew, long story. But he’s sleeping and I’d rather not take a baby to a cantina anyway so…”

“I’ll watch him if he wakes up but it’ll cost extra if he’s fussy, I’m not a babysitter.”

“Thank you, anything I can bring back from the cantina for you?”

“Not this time. Go ahead and catch up to that Mando before he pisses anyone else off.”

Aili gave Peli one more smile and nod before turning to head out the same way that Mando had. Hopefully he hadn’t already found a job without her. She didn’t want to get stuck with anything barely worth it or even something that would be impossible to manage. Not that there was a lot she couldn’t handle but she still wasn’t sure about Mando. She had yet to really see him in a fight. 

It took a while to get to the cantina as it was nowhere near Peli’s bay. Aili let out another annoyed sigh, really hoping that Mando hadn’t found a job yet without her. She felt like she needed to vet anything he found because he clearly didn’t know how to pick his battles. First he chose to take on an Imp job for beskar (which she understood, beskar belonged to Mandalorians to do with as they saw fit) but then he hadn’t been able to tell that the job on Sorgan would actually be worth it until he met an attractive, single widow who looked at him like he hung the sun in the sky. She got it, the idea of being able to settle down was always on her mind, but it wasn’t feasible at the moment. 

“Kriff!” Aili cursed as she narrowly avoided bumping straight into a beskar covered chest. She hadn’t even noticed he was there, so lost in her thoughts about how dumb he was. She glared up at the Mandalorian, “I said I’d meet you inside.”

“We have a job already,” he said, walking back towards Peli’s hangar before Aili could say anything. 

“Oh we do? How much?” Aili asked, keeping up with him easily, but she was a little impressed that he had found a job so quickly. People were usually wary around obvious bounty hunters and Mando was obviously one with all that hard, shiny armor. 

“More than enough. Dumb kid named Toro Calican wants help taking down Fennec Shand in the Dune Sea so he can join the Guild.”

Laughter bubbled up and escaped Aili’s mouth before she could stop herself. “Sorry, did you just say Fennec Shand? The mercenary slash assassin?”

“Yes.” Mando paused before his helmet tilted to the side, mistaking her laughter for nervousness,  “You don’t have to come with us.”

“Oh I’m going with you, if only to see you get your ass handed to you again,” Aili laughed again, knowing that she wouldn’t miss this job for anything in the galaxy. “How are we splitting the pay?”

“Says he’ll give us all of it. Just needs it done to get into the Guild,” Mando explained as they kept walking back to the hangar. 

“Is this kid stupid or what?” Aili asked, taken aback because she just knew that any bounty on Fennec Shand had to be high. Like, afford a brand new ship money. 

“He broke the tracking fob rather than giving it to me, so yes. But he’s going to meet us in half an hour with speeder bikes.”

“Wow, actually is this kid related to you? Because that’s some top class stupidity,” Aili said, smirk on her face when Mando paused for about half a second before continuing to walk, a little faster now so Aili had to almost jog to keep up with him. She supposed she deserved that for her comment but now he was just using her short legs against her. They made it back to Peli’s hangar faster than it took to get to the cantina, mainly because of the Mandalorian’s pace. 

He walked straight for the ship while Aili figured she’d wait for him to grab his gear before she went for hers. She had barely sat down on an empty fuel drum when he stalked back out and headed for one of the pit droids. 

“Hey!” He shouted, causing the pit droid to let out a scared sound before collapsing onto itself. “Where is he?”

“Mando, stop scaring the droids!” Aili didn’t know what his problem with droids was and frankly she didn’t care. But he needed to stop scaring them otherwise she was going to hit him. The sound of the Child crying took her attention away from Mando and she watched as Peli came forward with the Child in her arms.

“Oh you woke it up! Do you have any idea how long it took for me to get him to sleep?” Peli complained as she tried to bounce the Child a little to calm him down. Aili gave Mando a side glare since she knew it was his shouting that had scared Little Green. 

“Give him to me,” Mando demanded, pointing a finger at Peli. 

“No, I’ll give him to her because she has a head on her shoulders,” Peli said, handing Aili the Child. “She at least let me know he was still on the ship rather than just walking out without saying anything.”

Aili took the Child in her arms, giving him a smile as he let out a quiet sniffle. She ran a finger down his nose, her smile getting a little bigger when he stopped crying and a small smile appeared on his face. No one saw the look Mando was giving her behind his helmet before he shook his thoughts away and turned back to Peli. 

"Got started on the repairs, fixed the fuel leak. Everything else is still a mess except for the generator room. Whoever fixed that knew what they were doing,” Peli sounded a little impressed and Aili smiled over at the mechanic. 

"Thank you,” Aili said, glad that someone appreciated the hard work she had put into fixing the mess Mando had called a working gen room.

"Ah I knew it wasn't Mando who did that."

"I could have,” Mando said, clearly peeved with the two woman talking about him like he wasn’t even there. They both turned to look at him, Aili with one brow raised because she knew how useless he had been the whole time she was fixing his mess. She couldn’t see as he flushed under her stare but he didn’t try to say anything else. Smart move.

Peli looked him up and down. "Sure you could. There were a couple of setbacks I wanted to talk to you about.”

Aili watched as Mando headed back up the gangway and grabbed his pack. She went up as well once he was back down and she grabbed her own small go-bag. It only had weapons she considered essential and a couple of ration bars along with a waterskin that she always kept ready to go. 

“I figured you two would be good for the money since you’ve got this little one to feed,” Peli said, nodding her head towards the Child that Aili was still holding. The Mandalorian stared at Peli silently before tilting his helmet towards her.

“Thank you,” was all he said before walking away just as quickly as he had walked in again. Aili watched him walk away 

“A brief moment of manners and then he just...screws it all up,” Aili mumbled under her breath as she walked after him, nodding for Peli to come with her. 

“So you got a job?” Peli asked, following after the two of them. “‘Cause you know it costs a lot to keep these droids up and running.”

“We did and I know, we should be back soon. Seems like an easy enough job to me,” Aili said as she and Peli stepped back out into Tatooine where Mando was waiting with the dumb kid that they had partnered with. 

“Check it out, Mando. Not too shabby, huh?” Aili stood back with Peli as she looked the young man up and down. He seemed too...clean to be a bounty hunter but there was something else about him that she didn’t like. He seemed too eager and that was dangerous when it came to high paying bounties. She turned her attention over to where Mando was inspecting their speeder bike but he didn’t seem impressed when he looked back up at the wannabe bounty hunter. 

“What do you expect? This isn’t Corellia.” Toro shrugged before turning to look back at Peli and Aili, only recognizing Peli. He gave the Child a confused look before he looked up and Aili. “This your wife and...kid?” 

Aili gave him a blank stare knowing that she had not just heard him refer to her as Mando’s wife. “Call me that again and I’ll make sure you never join the Guild.” She handed the Child over to Peli before taking a step towards the speeder bike she was obviously going to share with Mando and tying her own pack down. Mando stood beside her stiffly. 

“Really and how will you do that? Get your husband to kill me for you?”

“Do you like breathing?” Aili asked, lunging forward to attack the boy but Mando wrapped a hand around her upper arm to stop her. She still enjoyed the way the little boy flinched despite her not getting anywhere near him. 

“Enough, get on the speeder,” Mando said, looking down at Aili before looking over at Toro and nodding for him to do the same. 

“Fine,” Aili said after giving Toro one last hard look. She got up on the speeder, Mando getting on behind her and reaching forward to take the handles before she even had a chance to reach for them. She rolled her eyes and scooted as far up as she could to put distance between her and Mando. She wouldn’t fall off as long as he kept the bike steady which if he knew what was good for him, he would. Then they were off for the Dune Sea.

[bang-to-the-tan]

Moth to Flame : What If?

#2: If Taehyung Caught You (Chapter 6 Alternate Timeline)

Reader x Taehyung

► Vampire!AU

Smut/Porn

Warnings: Somewhat Dubious Consent/Hypnosis, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, Vampires (Biting, Blood-Sucking, Death), Language

↳ Summary: I do a lot of teasing in this series and my readers take it very well. So, I’ve decided to do polls for the public to decide which near-miss scenarios I write out as Alternate Universe/Timeline/whatevers. They do not take the place of scheduled updates, and are oneshots only.

Best understood as part of the Moth to Flame Universe

Masterlist Link

It’s a bathroom—huge and beautiful. The tiles are an eggshell blue, and the shower in the corner is large enough to fit four people easily. For example, yourself and three other beautiful men. Nope. Wrong. You shake your head and banish the idea, ignoring the lingering imagined sensation of wet skin and hot kisses. You’re escaping, remember? The biting? The pain in your neck flares briefly, as does the soreness between your legs.

There’s a tub on the far side, larger even than the one you and Jin bathed in together, and as you hold your breath and stare, you recognize the figure inside. It’s Taehyung. Blonde hair wet and shining as it sticks to his face, to his neck. His eyes are closed, his head inclined back and resting on the side, plump lips slightly parted. What is he…? There’s another splash and the accompanying movement halfway down the bathtub steals your eye. The noise that crawls out of his throat this time is unmistakable. Fire licks up your neck and cheeks and your teeth automatically clench at the realization. Immediately, you’re determined to leave, turn on your heel and go back down the hallway from where you came, but then he cranes backwards, the muscles in his neck flexing, lifting his hips out of the water, and you are rooted to the spot. Watching him clutch his cock desperately, achingly hard and red, stroking up his length in a way both leisurely and needful. He’s thick, even in comparison to his large hands, and briefly your mind drifts to how it must feel to have it stretching you, filling you up so well, having all his filthy promises made good on after all. Your mouth waters despite yourself. 

“Just like that,” he hums, encouraging, and you swear your answering swallow echoes off the tiled wall. He tugs on himself sharply, and his eyebrows furrow, mouth hanging open. He whines, and it sounds so pitiful. “Just like that…what a good girl…” 

Your eyes widen, jaw going slack. Is he…jerking off to you? 

“Good, so good, sucking my cock for me,” he continues in a hushed groan, his whole body shaking into his palm. He twitches and the moan that slips from his lips is helpless against his own sweet torture. “You love sucking Taehyungie’s cock, don’t you? Just like that.

Please,” he breathes, pitch rising, but despite his pleading, his hand stills at the base of his member and his head turns to the side so you can see his face fully. His eyes are still closed, deep in the throes of his fantasy, but the consternation that pulls his brows close is real, the waver in his lips as he pants through gritted teeth, the pain of being left to the mercy of his own appetite. 

“Please,” he begs again, turning back away, hips thrusting up into his own hand. You can see him shivering, his fingers doing little else but brush against his length. He’s hoarse, twisting again as the bathwater laps at his tanned skin—it isn’t enough, he’s so hard and so close, you can hear the agony in his voice.    

“Suck me down again, suck me harder,” Taehyung implores his imaginary partner, and this time, he finally allows his hand to close into a tight fist, his jilted, surprised, moan leaving him almost as a keen, bouncing off the walls and echoing, as he drags it up and down. You watch, mesmerized, as the angry red of his cockhead disappears and reappears past the webbing of his hand, his thumb teasing at the slit when it emerges. His cry stutters and he’s almost sobbing as he thrusts, losing control of his slow pace, fisting himself in earnest now, bucking upwards. 

“Fuck, that’s perfect, just like that,” he gasps, growls, teeth catching on his lips, “F-fuck!” 

His other hand flies to his face, shakily slotting the outside of his thumb into his mouth as he bites down, his pelvis gyrating. He comes to a shuddering halt in midair, his cock twitching and pulsing as cum oozes over his fist, a few wayward spurts splashing into the water. Even from here you can hear him moaning, crying out brokenly, muffled by his skin. He rides out the last of his orgasm rutting into the air, humming and breathing heavy through his nose.

The hand in his mouth begins to seep dark red blood from beneath his lips, trailing down the side of his hand and down his arm. He suddenly pulls away with a grunt, visibly frustrated, and his eyes shoot open. You start, jumping guiltily, but he doesn’t seem to notice you watching from the doorway. His whole body slumps, the movement jerky and oversensitive, slipping down into his sullied bathwater. His head lolls back again, throwing a slow, disappointed blink to the ceiling before resuming a stare straight ahead, as if pondering deep and troubling thoughts. 

 Why are you still watching? What remains of your senses soaks slowly back into your brain as you realize you’ve sat here and played voyeur to a vampire as he masturbated in the tub instead of making your way out of this house. The insistent throbbing between your legs alerts you to the fact that the whole obscene fiasco has gone straight to your cunt and when you absently rub your thighs together, the heat inside of your belly kicks up so fiercely you have to bite back a whimper of your own. 

You cast one last look at Taehyung, pressing your lips into a firm line and holding your breath. You’ll leave him to his cum-bath. At least now you know for a fact that the other direction down the hallway has got to be the way out. 

 You begin a brisk walk towards the hallway opposite the bathroom. The entire surface of your skin tingles, senses heightened, almost anticipating the sound of Taehyung leaving the tub, the feeling of his hands on you, the sound of his voice dripping honeyed desires into your ears. But you hear no telltale splash of water and there’s no sign that he’s noticed you. Around the corner you can see the stairs now, and your pace quickens. 

The way out. The way home. An end to this fever dream, this weird place you’ve found yourself in. With all the bites and kisses and confusion. You’ll be home free. Wherever ‘home’ might be.

A warm arm slips easily over your chest as you walk, caging you backwards. A surprised huff leaves your lips when you stride right into it and bounce back. Wet. It’s wet, water trailing down the bare skin to drip to the floor. Why is it wet…?

Oh, fuck. 

“I thought I felt you.” Taehyung hums, his deep voice reverberating through his chest as a pleased rumble. “Did you like it…? Nasty little voyeur...” 

“I—“ you begin to stammer, mind spinning, trying to think of ways you could weasel your way out of this one, trying to ignore how hot he feels behind you, how heavy his breath is against your neck. 

Distantly, you can hear Jimin complaining in the hall ahead, followed by Jin. You weren’t gonna make it out that way, either, huh. But now, you’re thinking about running to Jin. Jin’ll save you. He’ll—Taehyung is already wrapping one wide palm around your wrist, tugging you back with him as he starts shuffling back to the bathroom, his head sliding into the crook of your neck as you go. There’s no point in struggling. The lithe muscles on display for you now are like steel. You’d have an easier time going through the wall. 

“T-Taehyung—“ you try, but he groans at the sound of his name, his hold on you flexing. 

“Maybe this time we don’t share right away,” he mumbles. “Lucky me, hm? I thought you were gone. Dead and gone…” He sniffs, nuzzling forward suddenly at your bandages. “Namjoon and Jin…?” He groans again, continuing to pull you back. You’re at the threshold now, and just as he’s pulling the door shut you consider shouting for Jin. For help. You don’t get the chance. Taehyung spins you around, pressing you up against the wood panelling, skin to skin, noses almost touching. You can see the expanse of skin he’s bared now, the way the water trails over his collarbones, drips down his chest, his dusky nipples pebbled. You glance lower, but with your proximity, it’s impossible to see anything else and you’re forced to meet his gaze again. He cocks his head, eyes half-lidded, looking you over with an expression that sends your stomach into flips. 

“Heard you screaming,” he says, conversational, and somehow his voice has managed to slink lower, deeper. “Everybody did, I think.” His tongue slides over his plump lips as his eyebrows flick upwards. “Fuck, it made me so wet.” 

He leans closer, and unthinkingly, you’re arching to kiss him, but he only pauses there, and you feel him smirking, his breath ghosting over your mouth. 

“Did you take them both?” he asks, excited. “Did they argue over who got your juicy little cunt, or did they share nicely?”

“Taehyung, th-they, I’m,” you try again, but your voice is going dry, mind already spinning maddening circles at the filthy implications.

“I bet Namjoon pinned you down, hm? I bet Jin kissed you all over. Did Jungkookie get to watch?” 

A gasp leaves your throat before you can stop it, pleasure streaking down your chest into your belly at the thought of Jungkook, watching, helpless, as Jin and Namjoon have their devious way with you. Would they let him join in? Eventually? Once you’re filled up and drained out, leaking all over the couch? You can’t help the way you squirm, and Taehyung definitely notices. 

Hot and slick, his tongue flits to your lips, licking you up, finally kissing you with a mouth like burning velvet, humming deep in his chest. 

“Gonna get in trouble,” he murmurs between sloppy, hungry kisses. “Again. Gotta make sure it’s worth it. Are you going to be good for me? This time I want more than your tits. I want more than just my fingers inside you.” You feel his hand brushing up the side of Jin’s pajamas, sidling up, sneaking into the front. “Can you do that for me?” 

“Jin said—” you start to protest weakly, cut off when he slips one long finger through your folds, caressing, beckoning forwards. He finds your clit with laser precision, circling and teasing at your entrance. 

“So wet already.” Taehyung groans, nipping playfully at your jaw. “Be quiet. Don’t want to get caught, mm?”

His haze tastes familiar against the back of your tongue. It wraps sure tendrils around your shoulders, sinking into your chest, easing your head back, heightening the impossibly good feeling of him stroking your pussy. Your mouth gapes at the ceiling, gripping his arms for balance as your spine arches into his touch.

“Maybe you do,” he continues, low. “Maybe you do want to get caught. Maybe that’s why you keep getting caught.”

He removes his hand from you too soon, tearing the pajama bottoms off you and immediately lunging for your top. You try your best to help him undress you, but you’re not moving fast enough for him and the next time he goes for a kiss, it’s impatient, all teeth and tongue. 

“Down,” he rasps. Your knees buckle, mouth flopping open as you come face to face with his engorged prick, already plump and red despite his recent orgasm. Your legs smart faintly from where you dropped so suddenly, but there’s warmth, glitter rising up through your limbs, coiling in your chest, in the air when you exhale, and the lights are beginning to circle above you. 

You feel his fingers curling sharply into your hair as he slides forward, inching his hot cock between your lips with a husky moan. 

“Perfect,” he coos as you struggle to acclimate to the girth of him weighing heavily on your tongue, nowhere to go when you try to lean back and end up pressing the back of your head to the door. “Shh, you’re okay.”

You moan around his length, relaxing around him when he continues his descent down your throat until he’s fully sheathed inside you. Your nose is pressed to his pubis, barely able to breathe with him like this, what little oxygen you can manage filled with the smell of him, the taste of his skin. But you’re okay. You’re good.  

“Fuck. That’s what you wanted, right? You wanted Taehyungie’s cock down your tight little throat? Hmm?” He shifts his weight to the other foot, twitching inside you.

You drool in response, unable to nod, unable to make a sound beyond a sick gurgle, vision spinning, pinned in place between him and the unyielding wood at your back. He makes a deeply pleased noise in his chest, hips rolling to slip his member out, and press back in. 

“Would you suck it all down for me?” he muses aloud as he begins to fuck your mouth, slippery and hot and heavy. Your eyes threaten to roll back, it’s starting to chafe, going raw, but you’re okay, you’re okay, and your neglected cunt is starting to leak, slicking the cool tile beneath you. “If I came in your mouth? Would you drown in it for me?” 

You would, you would, you want to, the very thought of his cum filling your mouth, out your nose, dripping down your chin has you writhing on the cruel hardness of the floor. 

“I think you would. Good.” In the corner of your eye, you can see when he throws his head back, snarling when you briefly choke as he prods the back of your throat. “Good.” 

He giggles, tearing his cock from you so suddenly that you almost collapse, held up only by his grip in your hair. “I would, too,” he muses above your wretched cough and ragged inhale. “I would pin you down and fill up every hole. I hope you know that.” 

You match his grin with yours, bleary-eyed, when he caresses the side of your jaw with his thumb. 

“But I want your pussy so badly,” he adds, nearly in a whine, “Jimin-ie said it tasted so nice, you know. So sweet on his tongue.” His other hand flies to his member again, stroking it slow. “Do we have time for that?” He doesn’t seem to really be talking to you anymore. 

The noise that breaks the brief silence between you is a sharp chime that echoes brightly about the bathroom. A marimba, you remember drunkenly, swaying, still watching Taehyung. It’s a marimba. He blinks, looking vaguely surprised and a little annoyed. When he lets go of your face, you whine under your breath, but he ignores you in favor of reaching for something on the floor behind the bathtub. His thumb taps deftly at the screen and he holds it up to his ear, licking his lips before speaking in a surprisingly innocent tone. 

“Jin?”

You’re distracted by the motion of his free hand resuming its pace down his cock, stroking himself like its a second thought as he listens to someone on the other end of the line. Jin, probably. Yeah, probably. Your throat feels so empty. Your pussy feels empty. Your body, untouched. You shift impatiently. 

“No,” Taehyung’s deep tone catches your attention again and when you glance up at him, his eyes are blazing straight through you, a smirk curling at his mouth. “No, I haven’t seen her.” 

The hand on his member suddenly points at you, then to the floor at his feet, his expression darkening. What…? He does the motion again, insistent. His brows shoot into his hairline. 

….Oh! You’re practically drooling as you finally understand, scrambling to obey quietly. You throw yourself in front of him like a bitch in heat, presenting your ass in the air, smothering an appreciative moan when you immediately feel his wide palms passing over your hips. He tugs you closer, sucking a breath through his teeth. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He sounds distracted, rubbing circles, fingertips ghosting over your nether lips. You back into him slightly, biting your lip, but he digs his nails into your ass as a warning, keeping you still underneath him.

“Just taking a bath.” Heat, velvety and soaking wet, brushing your inner thigh. He guides himself towards your core and begins pressing in at a glacial pace. His voice wavers and he disguises it by coughing, clearing his throat. “I’ll help look when I’m done.” 

Your head drops, sinking your teeth into your forearm to muffle the whines building in your throat as he glides further, sheathing his thick shaft until he’s heavy, hot, in your belly. He exhales behind you, under his breath, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from humping back onto him. You’re good. You’re so good. You mewl quietly when he rocks backwards, the stretch of his member dragging through your walls excruciating and wonderful all at once. 

“Nn, I know.” He’s still talking, but even his cool facade is wavering, his breath catching when he sinks back into you, every inch of his cock burning deep inside your gut. “I’ll be quick. Talk to you later, Jin.” 

There’s a clatter behind you as Taehyung drops the phone. A pair of hands on your hips, warming the skin, digging his fingers into your flesh, repositioning, tugging you with him as he snarls and grunts from the depths of his chest. He leans over you and begins fucking in earnest, punishing, bruising, his hips smacking against yours and sending you forward with the force, the sound of his testicles against your ass loud, echoing. 

“Ah, fuck,” he seethes, his breath coasting across your shoulders. “Fuck, I can’t believe Jin’s back already…” He giggles. “Guess we don’t have time for a lot.” 

Without any warning, his hand disappears from your flank, swatting your backside sharply. It reappears in your hair, tangling his fingers through the strands, forcing your head up, back, your glazed stare to the door as he pins you, takes you like a beast trapped underneath him. You keen, now uncovered, the walls of the bathroom answering, and he shushes you idly, laughing. 

 “There you go again,” he chastises with a grunt. “You wanna get caught? You want Jin to walk in? You want Jiminie to hear us? Kookie? You want everyone to see you like this? Bent like a dog, taking it for me.” 

It’s hard to breathe, much less speak, every thrust taking the air from your lungs, curling your toes with pleasure, but you try your best anyway, stuttering and stammering, dribbling around a drawn-out noise of affirmation. Your fingers scrabble at the tile uselessly, feet sliding out of position, legs quivering from his onslaught. 

“Hmm? Yes?” He’s excited at your response, trying to shuffle closer, trying to pull you more towards him, his pace growing unsteady. “Is that a yes? You clenched just now, just at the thought, huh? Your greedy little pussy wants to be filled up just like that? Could you take it?” 

Taehyung hums, rumbling, arm moving to help prop the two of you up, his front closing in on your back, pelvis crashing into yours, one arm hooking underneath you, fingers wandering to hold you open for him, stretching you sideways as he plunges his turgid cock in and out of your slick hole. 

“Good,” he groans, “So good for me. Fuck. I c-can’t...I’m gonna give you everything. I’m gonna fill you up so good.” 

He stutters, and you can feel his head bowing at your neck, can feel his deep inhales, breathing in the scent his brothers left on your neck. Even as your limbs shake violently from the exertion of keeping the two of you up, even with his free hand braced against the floor, you can feel the steady rush of your orgasm threatening to claim your body as he pumps violently, forcing himself so deep, almost too deep, and you cry out in need. He whines in answer, grunting, as his member twitches and pulsates, finally delivering on his filthy promises. Your cunt floods with his hot seed, your mouth falling agape as he holds you perfectly still, making you take it, all of it. You’re close, but not quite there, and when he exhales through his teeth, slipping his spent dick from you, you choke on a sob. But he doesn’t move to go anywhere, still holding you up even as your body threatens to go completely limp, drooping dangerously close to the floor. 

“Cum,” he rasps against your ear, catching the flesh with his teeth. Rough fingers suddenly circle your clit and it throws you forcibly off the precipice, your orgasm finally rising from your toes and washing over your entire frame, leaving you to shake and convulse in his unyielding grasp. He lets you down, still twitching from the aftershocks, onto the mercifully cold tile. It’s wet here, your combined sweat and juices making the surface slick, but comforting to the ache of your body as you gasp and jolt. 

There’s a moment of silence broken only by your panting. 

“They definitely heard that,” Taehyung muses, low, clicking his tongue. “How long until they open the door and we get in trouble, do you think?” 

 Do you think? You don’t know if you’re capable of thought. Instead, you crane to look at him, chest heaving. Your pussy is beginning to leak, his rapidly cooling release slinking down your thigh. He watches you breathe with a look that’s approaching thoughtful. 

Finally, he pushes up and off the floor, sitting up on his haunches. He reaches for the lock on the bathroom door and flips it into position. Why didn’t he have it locked to begin with?...

“How long until they break it down?” he adds, a grin beginning to grow across his face. “Enough time to stuff you again?” 

His hand slips to your face, dragging his thumb down on your lips. You huff at him, feeling sparks reigniting in your chest when he smirks crookedly. 

“And maybe again? Maybe we can convince them to join. Would you like that?”

You whine. 

[xwing-baby]

Ascent of The Emissary: The Golden Star

Word Count: 4k (whoops)

Series Summary: A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away...The FIRST ORDER have announced themselves to the galaxy and are set on destroying the Galactic Alliance. A young woman, born and raised in the rich Order sympathising society, on the planet RAELA, meets her supposed sworn enemy in a crowded marketplace and comes to a crossroads in her life. Does she follow the path laid out to her by her FAMILY or does she carve her own, JOIN THE FIGHT against the Order and BETRAY everything she’s ever known.

Chapter Summary: Kyla has decided to go to the Golden Star to find Rafan. Will the mysterious stranger help her make her decision or will this be the end of her?

<- Previous chapter    //     Introduction    //    Next Chapter ->

The chauffeur dropped us all back at home, my father and brother relaxed on the couch whilst my mother ordered the droids to get dinner ready. 

“I’m going out this evening,” I announced, having not moved from the doorway, “I said I would meet a friend for dinner,” 

“But we’ve already eaten,” My father said plainly as he sat down in his armchair. 

“It’s more of a catch-up,” I explained, lying through my back teeth to try and find a way out of the house, “Just some snacks, I haven’t seen her for a while and-”

“It’s fine, darling,” My mother swanned into the room, handing my father a drink. “Go enjoy yourself, be back before dark,” She smiled kindly. My father grumbled but I ignored him already making my way to the door.

“Of course. Love you,” I called before shutting the door behind me. It was the end of the work day, everyone in the city was moving about. I managed to find my way, asking a few people along the way directions to the Golden Star. 

I was apprehensive. Not really sure why I was going to an unknown location directed by a man I did not know. This could be a trap. There was a high likelihood that it was and that I was going to get there and he would rob me, or that the Golden Star was completely made up. 

I’d never been this far from the city centre on my own before. The bustling streets gave way to quieter but tighter ones, weaving in and out of old stone buildings from before the old Republic. The cobbled stone on the floor was uneven and even missing in places. It was clear that no one from central had been here in a long time. 

I finally came upon the right place. The stranger I had asked for directions said it was opposite a blue wooden shed. The blue wooden shed was there, but there were no signs for the Golden Star. I had assumed there would be, like any other bar in the city. I walked along the narrow street, past houses and some suspicious children who stopped playing their game to watch me. I hadn’t realised how out of place I must have looked, still in my gown from the presentation earlier in the day

Eventually I came to a small red door. The red paint was chipped and scorch marks littered the panel. A yellow star was painted at the top. This had to be the place, right? It did fit the description I suppose, and for a secret Resistance meetup this was a pretty good place. I looked back at the children, who were still staring, and cautiously tapped on the door. 

I could hear music inside, and some chatter though dampened by the large walls encasing the bar inside. I knocked again before deciding just to go in. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. 

As I opened the door, light poured into the small room and the chatter stopped immediately. The patrons, all of many different species and races, all turned to look at me. Their many eyes flicked over me then landed on the pin on my chest. 

“Get her out of here!”  A man yelled, grabbing everyone’s attention further.  “Imperial scum!” 

“What is she doing?” A scandalized Rodian called. More people stood up now, coming closer to me. I immediately regretted my decision, clutching at the pin on my chest in an attempt to hide it. I stepped backwards to find the door away but realised I had walked too far in and instead of a wall, my hand found the front of a very angry looking man. I whimpered and jumped out of his way. The man growled.

“Kill her!” 

“He-hey I-I’m not,” I started, shrinking back towards the door as the people crowded around me. I was terrified, and gripped the pin tight trying to stop them pulling it off me. Tears welled up in my eyes and I pressed my back to the door as they came closer. This was a very very bad idea. “I’m sorry!” 

“Hey!” Rafan jumped out of nowhere, put his arm over my shoulder. I looked up at him, my heart still rattling against my chest but I was thankful. “Whoa! whoa it’s fine she’s with me,” 

“You know the rules, Raf,” The barman called over. 

“She’ll take it off, she’s okay I promise,” Rafan turned to me and looked at the pin on my chest. “Give me that and they won’t threaten to kill you, okay?” 

“Promise you’ll give it back?” I whispered, “My mother will notice if I lose it,” 

“Sure, just not in here,” He nodded. I unclipped the badge and hesitantly handed it to him. My stomach tied itself into knots at the thought of him losing. He took it and flipped in his hand before slotting it in his back pocket, “You all can back off, she’s with me,” 

The crowd backed off, returning to their seats. One grumbled something in a language I didn’t understand, from the tone I could tell it wasn’t pleasant, Rafan replied with similar venom. I gave a questioning look to Rafan, who just rolled his eyes and chuckled.

Rafan took me over to a table at the side of the catina. Two people sat at the table, a man and a woman. The woman had dark hair and sharp features with a menacingly stern look on her face as she watched Rafan and I approach. She wore all black, with a coat zipped up to her neck. The man next to her looked a little nicer. He was tall and broad with dark blonde hair that hung just around his ears, he had the shadow of a beard around his jaw and lips, which turned to a smile when he looked up and saw his friend. Rafan sat down with them, next to the man and offered the chair next to him. I sat down obediently, trying my best not to look as scared as I felt. 

“Ben, Kal, this is Kyla,” Rafan introduced the people at the table as he sat down.

“Stars above, Raf you do have awful taste in women,” The woman, Kal, sniggered. 

“She’s just a friend,” Rafan rolled his eyes.

“Why have you got friends with the Order?” Ben asked, looking me up and down disapprovingly. 

“I’m not with the Order,” I said as a sudden wave of confidence coming over me. “I am neutral,” 

“If you grew up on Raela, you can’t be neutral,”Kal sneered. “I mean look at you, you’re terrified just talking to us,” 

“Leave her alone, Kal. She can’t help it. Her father is Ren Olen, of course she’s going to be scared of us,” 

“What do you mean of course I’m scared. I’m not scared,” I protested. The trio laughed at me. “And how’d you know who my father is?” 

“Remember where you are kid, we know everything about everyone in Raela City- especially your father,”

“Why would the resistance care about my father? He’s nothing to do with you,” 

“Well you should tell that to my brother, or most people in this room really,” 

“Kal, come on,” 

“My father is not a murderer,” I 

“I- just ignore her,” Rafan tried to cover for himself, but anger bubbled up in my stomach.

“No. What did you mean? Tell me,” I said sternly. The trio looked between each other, then down at their drinks, “Maybe my father was right about the resistance afterall, weak and cowardly,” I spat, pushing my chair back and standing up quickly.

“Kyla!” Rafan protested, grabbing my arm to stop me leaving. I pulled away from his reach, stepping away from the table. 

“No. I came here because I genuinely thought you might have been the better way. But you’re worse than them. I am risking everything to be here and you make jokes about my father like that! I’m leaving,” I rushed outside, ignoring the chatter and jeers of the patrons as I left, slamming the door behind me as I stepped outside.

A few moments later, Rafan followed me outside. “Kyla, Kyla wait come on,”I span around to yell at him.

“What? Good job humiliating me,” I exclaimed, ”I feel like an idiot! Why did I even come here?”

“Look I’m sorry, Kyla. Just come back inside. I’m sorry,” Rafan pointed back into the Golden Star, holding my hand again. 

“Get off me,” I ripped my hand out of his and stumbled backwards. “I should never have come. It’s all a joke. My mother was right, I should join the First Order, or marry an officer,” 

“Wait what?” Rafan 

“Yeah, that’s why I came here tonight. I thought you could help me make the decision and you did, so good job.” I said sarcastically.

“Kyla you can’t-,” 

“Why not? You don’t know me. What is it to you?” 

“Come with me, I’ll tell you about anything you want to know. We don’t have to go in there, They’re not usually such assholes, it’s just been a tough few weeks for us all,” 

I thought about it for a moment. Rafan seemed so sincere, and he seemed genuinely sorry for what was said. I sighed, and uncrossed my arms.

“Fine, where are we going to go?” 

“You’ll see,” 

Tentatively, I followed Rafan until we came to a small stone house. He opened the door and showed me inside. It was dark inside so I couldn’t see much and followed Rafan blindly through one room and up some tight twisted stairs. Two flights later, we climbed out onto the roof. The view was stunning. 

I could see for miles around the city, as the houses disappeared out into fields of green and yellow crops. The sun was setting, casting the sky a beautiful pink colour. Three moons were barely visible, but would soon become brighter as the light faded and darkness came. I was speechless for a moment, it had been so long since I’d seen the sunset so fully, the view from my home was disrupted by the large buildings of the central city I could barely see the sky. I felt so closed in, but here I felt so free. The world was bigger than the walls of the city. 

Rafan and I sat on the edge of the roof and were silent for a moment, enjoying the peace that came with the early evening. 

“Ask me anything, anything at all. I know you must have some questions,” Rafan said, still looking out at the view. I smiled wide, happy that I wasn’t being dragged here to be pushed off the roof.

“When did you join the resistance?” I asked tentatively.

“I was seven years old, maybe,” 

“That’s so young? What happened?” 

“Oh you know, the usual. Parents died, had nowhere else to go and were picked up by a fighter,” He said nonchalantly, I gasped.

“That’s horrible!” I exclaimed, Rafan shrugged, “How did they die?” 

“My father was killed by a bounty hunter, my mum killed herself about a year after,” 

“I am sorry,” I said sincerely.

“Why? It was nothing to do with you,” Rafan said with a laugh. I frowned. 

“And what do you do for the Resistance?” 

“I want to be a pilot,” He said, turning to face me. His eyes lit up with excitement, “I’ve been training for a while now and I think I’ll be able to soon. Once I’m back on base,” 

“So you don’t live here, on Raela, all the time?” 

“No, I’ve been here for about two months now. I’m technically on a mission,” 

“Really? What’s the mission?” I said excitedly.

“Classified,” He said seriously, turning to face me now.

“Oh, oh of course,” I slunk back, a little embarrassed. We were silent again.

“Why do you want to know all of this?” Rafan spoke after a moment, “Why did you come to see me? I could have killed you,”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” I settled back on my hands, looking up at the deepening colours of the sky. “I think all my life I’ve been taught that the Republic is wrong and the worst thing to ever happen to the Galaxy, and I don’t know, everything that happened today has made me question that a little. It’s one thing reading about planets being destroyed in the outer rim but hearing people talk about the destruction of the republic and even core worlds who don’t comply. I guess it just made it all a bit more real,” I said, a little embarrassed I looked back out to the countryside, “You must think I’m an idiot,” 

“I think you’re a product of your environment,” He turned back to me, looking me directly in the eyes, the intensity of his stare made me uncomfortable but I couldn’t look away, “The fact that you’re questioning it is very admirable,” 

“I am risking everything to be here,” I said honestly, “If my father saw me out here…,” I trialled off not even wanting to think about what would happen.

“What? I’m that bad?” Rafan smiled, nudging my arm to bring me back to reality.

“Today, I was introduced to Armatige Hux. He’s on course to be general for the first order.” I said, changing the subject,  “My mother is in love with him, she’s desperately trying to get me to marry him,” I shivered at the thought of actually marrying the man

“I’ve heard about him,” 

“Awful man, he will make a brilliant General though,” 

“Well I look forward to the wedding invite,” Rafan joked. I laughed, and kissed my teeth. The sun was going down now, the orange haze barely visible above the horizon. The lights of the city were turning on, I knew I had to leave. If I didn’t, no doubt my mother would start to panic. 

“I have one more question,” 

“Yeah?,” 

“Do you think what you are doing with the resistance is worth it? Do you believe you can win?” 

“Yes. We have to,” 

---

The next day I was back at Rafan’s house on the edge of the city. We had agreed on the rooftop the evening before that Rafan would help me join the resistance. It would have to remain a secret, only a few people could know. People on both sides would be outraged if they found out what we were doing. 

I had snuck out early in the morning, just as the sun was coming up and took a taxi to get there. Adrenaline was pumping through me a mile a minute, I was not one to sneak out and especially not to see a resistance fighter. We’d had breakfast together, and talked for a while before Rafan decided to start my initiation.

“Okay so if you really want to do this, you’re going to have to learn to fight,” Rafan said. I groaned but stood up from the table and followed him to the centre of the room. Rafan pushed some boxes out the way, and the make-shift couch made of old sacks and clothes scarps to the side of the room. 

“Isn’t there something else I could do?” I whined. Rafan frowned and crossed his arms, I didn’t have a choice. “Fine, just promise you won’t hurt me,” 

“I won’t hurt you, princess. Don’t worry,” He teased. 

“Any more of that and I will punch you in the face,” I snapped as I scowled at him. Raf laughed. 

“What? Don’t like being called Princess, Princess?” He teased, a shit eating grin on his face as he stalked around me. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Rafan come on, I don’t want to,” I complained again, turning on the spot to follow him as he paced around. 

“Fine I’ll stand still. Just punch me! Go on Princess, you won’t hurt me,” I took a deep breath and nodded then balled my hand up and punched the top of his muscular arm.

“Ow!” I cried, instantly recoiling and cradling my fist. “What are you, made of metal? Stars above!” 

“Don’t hold your fist like that, hold it like this,” He showed me the proper position. “And stand like this,” He stood on his toes, with his legs spread one infront of the other stepping towards me. I copied. “Good, now go again,” 

“But-,”

“Come on Princess, go!” I punched his palm again. It worked! I squealed as I hit him and quickly stepped back again. Rafan laughed. “Less squealing this time. This is a fight, concentrate,” 

“Concentrate,” I muttered, getting back into the stance once again, hitting him again. This time Rafan grabbed my fist. I stopped. 

“No! Don’t stop! Go for my body, get free!” 

With my free arm, I tried again. I hit him in the stomach, making him let me go and step back. Encouraged, I tried again. Raf wasn’t fighting back which helped but it was encouraging. Eventually we reset and Rafan started to fight back, forcing me to dodge and make a few defensive moves. I wasn’t good but I at least was starting to enjoy myself. 

I threw another punch harder than before, determined to throw him off. However, Rafan blocked it and I stumbled backwards. My knees buckled and I fell backwards, and before I could stop myself hit the floor with my shoulder. Pain shot through me and I cried out, clutching it quickly with my opposite arm. 

“Shit! Are you alright?” Rafan got down on the ground and helped me to sit up. I winced and nodded. 

“I’m fine,” I mumbled through gritted teeth. 

“Let me see,” He pulled the collar of my shirt back to look at my shoulder. He carefully ran a finger over it making me shiver. He touched a sensitive part making me hiss. “Sorry,” He whispered.

Being so close to him made my heart race. I watched his face carefully as he looked at my injury. His brow was furrowed, running his fingers over the bruised skin carefully to assess the damage. I could see every detail on his face, noticing for the first time the white scar that ran along his jaw and the bump on the bridge of his nose where it had been broken once before. He carefully pushed my shoulder, making me yelp again. Then he caught me staring. 

His dark brown eyes looked directly into my soul. I wanted to look away but I just couldn’t. I could barely breathe as I saw his eyes flick to my lips for a second then back up. A few seconds felt like an eternity. He leant back on his heels, breaking the eye contact and smiled.

“I think you’ll be okay, Princess. I think we’ll leave the fighting for now,” He said as he pushed himself back to standing. He held his hand out for me to pull myself up with. I took a shaking breath, still not sure what had just happened, or nearly happened. 

“Hey Raf are you-,” Ben appeared in the room, he stopped still when he saw me there. He looked at me suspiciously, looking between me and Rafan. “What’s she doing here?” 

“Don’t start that again Ben,” Rafan chastised, “We were just training, Kyla’s joining the resistance,” 

“Well can you stop? We’ve got work to do,” Ben said sternly. 

“Y-yeah of course,” 

“I should go and ice my shoulder,” I said quickly, gathering my things from the table. “Thanks for helping Raf,” 

“Sure. It’s no problem. See you tomorrow?” 

“Of course,” I smiled. Ben rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Raf. I stepped around him and left the house.

“You’re insane, Raf. Truly,” 

I walked back home, deciding to take advantage of the fine weather. I tried to force Ben’s words out of my head, but his attitude towards me was well founded, to his credit. What was I doing there, really? I had no doubt in my mind that Ben thought I was a spy, and Rafan probably believed that too. Yet, he still wanted to help me. Then, I thought of that moment. The look in his eyes, I was so close to kissing him the idea of it made butterflies swarm in my stomach. I shook my head, I wasn’t there for him. He could look like a Hutt and I would still be there. I wanted to join the resistance! I wanted to make a difference! The fact that Rafan was so nice to me, and so handsome was merely a bonus.

Eventually, I made it home. I’d made a quick stop at a bakery on the way, if my mother had noticed I’d been gone all morning fresh bread would soothe her. I opened the door and was met by the usual silence of the house. I walked through the house, dropping the bread onto the kitchen counter and picked up the datapad on the table to read anything that had happened since I’d left this morning.

“Where have you been today?” My mother’s voice interrupted my reading, making me jump. She was uncharacteristically stern, making me look up immediately.

“Huh?” 

“We were meant to be going to the senate today? Remember?” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot!” 

“And I asked Sam where you were and she didn’t know either,” She put her hands on her hips, “I thought we agreed that if you want a little more freedom around here, you have to tell the droids where you’re going,” 

“Yes Mother I’m sorry,” I sighed. She walked around the counter and inspected the package of bread then sighed and smiled at me. She was never cross for long. Then a curious look came across her face and she came closer.

“What?”

“Is that a bruise?” She pulled the neck of my shirt back, revealing the blue bruise on my shoulder. “How did you get that?” 

“Hit it on the shelf,” I lied quickly. My mother tutted and let it go. 

“Well, you’re lucky it’s not visible,” She sighed,  “You’ve got an important dinner coming up soon you can’t be looking so rough,” 

“What do you mean about an important dinner?” 

“I set up dinner with Armitage,” She said matter of factly. My jaw dropped. 

“W-why would you do that? I said I wasn’t sure about-”

“Well I think you’d make a great pair, darling and frankly I think you just need to get out there! You can’t live here forever you know. You need a husband, I think Armitage would make you very happy,” 

“When is it?” 

“Tomorrow,” 

“Why didn’t you ask me first? I’ve got plans for tomorrow,” 

“Well how am I meant to know if you won’t tell me anything!” She exclaimed. “I’ve barely spoken to you in the past few weeks!” 

“Can’t you reschedule it?” 

”What are you even doing?” She continued, ignoring my question, “You haven’t left the house in months then suddenly you’re going out all day?” 

“I-I’m just with some friends,” 

“How come I’ve never met these friends?” 

“They’re new friends,” I lied, quickly trying to think of something that she would like. “I- uh I met them at the Order presentation,” 

“Oh!” Her concerned look instantly dropped to a smile, “That’s wonderful darling. For a moment there I was worried you were off with some nasty rebellion kids! You know I heard on the holo-net that there’s a large rebel group settling on Raela now. How they got here I’ll never know,” 

“Don’t be silly, mother. I’d never,” I laughed. 

“Well just tell your new friends that you have to reschedule. I’m sure they will be fine with it! Especially if you say who it is,” She grinned and kissed my cheek as she walked past me. I grimaced but forced a smile for her.

“Sure,” 

“Oh I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time. If I was your age I’d be all over that man!” 

“I’m sure Father would love to hear that,” I called after her, laughing a little myself now. My mother barked a laugh, shrugging it off as she left the room.

Once she was gone, I relaxed. What had I got myself into now? 

--- 

A/N: I could write Rafan forever, I love him so much!! What do you guys think?? Let me know!!

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