#sway bar link replacement

[demoness-one]

i NEED it to snow already if i dont do some wild fucking donuts in my car soon im going to lose my mind

[daryascurse]

𓆩♡𓆪 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭ο𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝐄𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦

01: Sanji x Reader

“I just – can’t keep my hands off you,” he says, hot against your collarbone, and your hands creep further up his back to push at the thick blonde tufts. “Can’t you just,” you breathe, with the very last of your resolve, “wait until we get – to an inn? “Absolutely not,” Sanji says in a completely serious way. He probably is serious. You believe him.

⟡ reader: POV second person, AFAB, nongendered pronouns but reader wears a skirt ⟡ content: technically based on og sanji but also admittedly inspired by the live action, oraI (fem. receiving), fngering, dirty talk, wall sεx, semipublic, multiple os ⟡ wordcount: ~2.7k ⟡ ao3 link ⟡ playlist

ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴍᴅɴɪ. I have a very strict adult-only interaction policy. Ageless, blank, and clearly minor-run blogs that interact will be blocked. If you have questions about what that means, please read the byf in my pinned post.

“Stop it,” you say through gritted teeth. But then you have to turn and practically slap Sanji’s hands away when you feel his touch alight again, and you take the opportunity to curl your lips up to a proper glower. “You do realize practically half the crew came into this pub?”

“Half the crew’s always around,” Sanji says as his hand creeps back up the material of your shirt.

You shake him free and turn back around so that he can’t see your smile.

“How does that make it any better?”

“Better than trying to sneak around the ship.”

But you made Sanji swear, before alighting into town, that there would be no funny business if he decided to wander and explore the streets with you. You’d had to make him promise, and you drum your fingers against the bar as you remember the last time he went into a local establishment with you. It had ended with at least two threats against Sanji’s life, a bottle of wine broken at the doorframe when you’d scampered into the night, and the loss of a favorite pair of panties.

You’re smiling for a reason, despite it all, which is why the smirk needs to be hidden.

“So we don’t need to spend the night on the ship,” you say, and pretend it’s due to the swell of the crowd that you have to push back against him briefly, feel the metal of his belt hit at your exposed back where your shirt falls in a rumple when a girl reaches her arm across you to wave down the bartender. “So we can get a room in town.”

“We can.” Sanji’s voice begins to hum in a lilt. “But why does it mean we have to wait so long for that?”

The clamor of the crowded pub sways around you. The boxing in is what led you to first feel his sneaking touch up your shirt, something a little more familiar than the natural flow of bodies against bodies at the bar.

“’M not ready to go yet,” you say, and force yourself around to face him. The humidity of the room is gently coaxing the light wave in his hair.

“But isn’t it getting busy?”

“I guess,” you say, unwilling to surrender.

He takes your hand and you stumble forward. Sanji pushes through the crowd. He’s heading for the doors at the back of the pub. You have to shout at him to be heard over the din, but try to keep your voice from yelping loud enough for the booth of familiar faces in the booth you’re passing now.

“What are you doing? I said – I don’t want to leave.”

Luckily, your crewmates don’t perk up at the sound of your voice.

There’s a croon from his throat, almost an aw, and the curves of his cheeks are high in a hidden grin.

“No, no, my love. We’re not leaving.”

And when Sanji heaves the door open, the shrill cool of the autumn night practically smacks you in the face. The door slams behind you, and the chattering and shrieking inside subdues. You blink a moment, adjusting to the shifting dimness, but the chill on your cheeks is replaced with the warmth of Sanji’s hands as his fingertips cup at your jaw.

“Oh, no,” you say with a delirious giddiness.

“What?”

“You said you’d behave in public. You promised.”

“This isn’t so public.”

He’s looking at you with a narrowed gaze, the twitch of a smile pressing creases at his lips, and you return it despite your best judgment.

“The bartenders have been coming in and out of this alley,” you say, and reach up to trace over the back of his fingers. They’re velvet, with the prick of hair at his knuckles dusting under your touch. “In and out, back to the bar.”

“Smoke break, same as us,” he says in that familiar wheedle. “That’s all we’re here for. Just a little fresh air.”

“Smoke break,” you repeat with a tone of suspicion. The smile still playing on your face so clearly betrays your true feelings, because Sanji’s lips come down to cover it in a kiss. Your back pushes against the rough brick of the alleyway, shoulders rolling to the stone as you lift your arms in an embrace around the broad expanse of him.

He keeps a tender cup on your jaw, but his other hand alights on your hip, palm fitting to the curve of your body and moving down to your leg. Sanji fists at the fabric of your skirt and sneaks it up, exposing your skin to the chill of the air as he urges your thigh up, hips opening to your waist.

“Oh,” you gasp as Sanji’s lips move down your jaw to butterfly across your neck. Your heart is pounding as your throat tightens in thrill at the sensation, and you stare up into the night and suck in the fresh air.

“I just – can’t keep my hands off you,” he says, hot against your collarbone, and your hands creep further up his back to push at the thick blonde tufts.

“Can’t you just,” you breathe, with the very last of your resolve, “wait until we get – to an inn?”

“Absolutely not,” Sanji says in a completely serious way.

He probably is serious. You believe him.

Sanji traces down over your blouse in ghosting touch. He adjusts his grip on your thigh, awakening your muscles to the strain the position keeps your leg in.

“Well – will you hush,” you say, and roll your eyes nervously to the door, where the swell of the pub still reverberates.

“You want me to keep my mouth shut?” he asks, humming, and then his lips turn in a grin, one last kiss at your throat, before leaning away. His hand has made its way down, sliding under the rumple of your skirt, and he’s made his discovery.

What you were going to answer with dies on your lips. You’re staring, dazzled, into his eyes like glass, eyes like the night sky above, as he pushes, strokes below the crease of your underpants. Your leg is tight, flush against him, and you find your hips opening wider, rolling forward, back scraping against the brick. The blood begins to pound in your ears.

“Keep it – busy another way,” is what you choke out, and Sanji sinks to his knees without another word. You almost slump back, palms bracing against the wall as your heart drums wild and your leg relaxes, still opening with room for his wineglass-frame shoulders to settle. Sanji pushes the fabric of your skirt, nudges your knee to lift your leg, exposing yourself to him.

And as you requested, Sanji busies his mouth. He begins to move across your skin in kisses meant to tantalize, barely skimming over the delicate expanse of your inner thigh. There’s a hand cupping the muscle of your ass, and then he squeezes his grip hard enough to make you squeal despite yourself and shift your hips again to help him nudge your panties down.

“San – ” and your tongue pushes between your teeth, interrupting yourself in the stutter of your own sound.

The kiss he lays right there is gentle. All you can push from your lungs are breathy moans, stifled as much as possible as his tongue presses upward. He splits your folds to taste you, the kisses still coming. And his tongue follows, brushing along and tasting every inch of you.

“Oh.”

Your eyes are wide, the stars swimming above you. You try to swallow and find your throat dry, so aware in that same moment of the heaving of your chest with each inhale, shaky exhale. Without thinking, your hands are at his head, combing, raking through the blonde as your spine curls forward, bringing yourself close to him.

“Oh- oh.”

Sanji stays buried beneath your thighs, his fingers spreading to dig into you. Your muscles tremble under his touch and he must feel the way you shake, he must. The gentleness is still there, the sweetness in each curve and kiss of his lips, groans slipping out that almost break into a whine at the end of his voice. He’s eating your pussy like a starving man, tongue swirling like licking every last bit of sweet batter off a spoon, and just as desperate to have it all. And then, as another long, delicious minute edges on, he squeezes against you again and then slips two fingers up inside you.

“Mmm.”

You tighten your fist without thought of the yanking on his hair, and clasp your other hand over your mouth, because that’s also when the door bangs open to your right. You flinch, jaw clenched and shaking, fingers tighten.

“Pour the kid another beer!” shouts the bartender with his arms visible to your right. You can’t even look down at Sanji, but you can see just where the illuminating light inside the pub streams out into the alleyway.

And the problem is, as a crate of empty wine bottles clatters to the ground, Sanji doesn’t stop moving. It’s as if this thrill serves only to turn him on more. He curls his fingers within you, thumb turning with his wrist. He presses right on your clit and rubs, and you can feel his face shift away, the air coming to your flushed skin, as he kisses your inner thigh again.

You press your hand into your face and bite your palm to suppress the groan coming from your diaphragm.

At that moment, just as sharply as the door opened, it slams shut with just the bottles behind.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, and reach forward, down, to clasp your hand down on Sanji again.

“And you told me,” Sanji says into your thigh, “to be quiet.”

You’d say something back, if the blood was in your brain and circulating thoughts, but his mouth is full again. His thumb has moved down, pushing at the plum fruit of you to keep you fat and open around him, his tongue tracing shapes across your clit. Everything’s shaking, his grip, your weakening muscles, your breaths.

“Fuck,” you say in a thick choke, and in an almost alarming start, the tightness under your belly all bursts without warning and you come over his fingers.

“Oh,” Sanji moans, repeating in a drunken whine, and his mouth is awakening you to every bit of sensitivity prickling and pushing under your skin. He’s getting all of you, he must be determined to keep tasting everything he can, licking up every bit of your orgasm as your hips buck and shake with no thought to the harsh brick wall behind you.

“Oh my – god – ” is what you can get out through numb lips. Sanji’s rising, the shadows and stars behind him shifting with his broad stance. His gaze on you is dark, shining with lust, his lips forcing the air out. You’re still feeling the orgasm, the thick swelling of your inner walls pushing out slick, but he’s moving with electric urgency as he unbuckles his pants.

He kisses you, sealing your mouths together. You can taste yourself as he was so desperately hungry for. Your back arches and you push your hips towards him again. Sanji wraps your leg up around him again, curving down into you to find a suitable position to bring his cock flush to you.

“Ah, ouch,” you whimper when his fingers brush against the tender flesh still wet with your arousal and his licks.

“You okay, my love?”

“Sore,” you say in a heavy breath, and tug at his blazer urgently.

“Is it o – ”

“Yes,” you hiss, cutting Sanji off in a low voice.

He kisses you quickly, swallowing the last of the sound with the remnants of your taste.

When Sanji guides himself into you, pushing in with a thrust, both of you mirror a soft, exhilarated sigh muffled by a fierce kiss. His cock stretches you with a sweet sensation that almost leaves you dizzy. Keeping his lips on you, your whines are trapped to die out in silence.

Near silence. There’s the anxious fervent sounds of body against body. There’s a hot, desperate hiss of pleasure that escapes you two regardless of the best efforts to hold them back. Sanjii’s thrusting faster and deeper into you, and your muscles clench desperately.

“Fuck,” you moan, and turn your head to whimper into the firm roll of bicep under his sleeve.

Sanji’s muscles are just as tense.

The salty sweet scent of sex rises around you in the alleyway. You let your hands roam freely, trying to get a grip on him, before rising in a cage around his shoulders again in  tugs to pull him tighter. The flush push of his hips against yours leave you scraping back against the wall again and again, and his ragged breaths fill your ears.

There’s a sound like the door squealing open again, as the pub sounds break loud for a moment, but then it closes before you even have time to react. You gasp audibly in a delayed reaction. For a moment it sounds like a bottle pouring out, and you let your soft cry relax into a whimper into him again.

Sanji’s moving fast, quickly, the thrusts of his hips moving more desperately. He’s going quicker than normal in the urgent rabidness of the moment, and you buck your hips to fuck him back as best as you can. He’s now collapsed with his head dropped on your shoulder, mouth and heavy breaths right at your ear, and you dig your nails desperately in hunting scratches at the back of his suit jacket. You need to find a firmer hold, needing to bring him further and further into you as the coil inside you tightens for a second time.

But there’s some warning this time. You push your hands at him even harder.

“I’m – I’m – gonna…”

“Come,” Sanji breathes, “come for me, my love.”

The coil snaps and you can’t hold the cry back. Your cunt tightens, your muscles cold and blood hot as you come again. It must be this squeezing, the anxious flutter of your inner walls holding Sanji snug that makes him follow you. He fucks you through it, the oversensitivity making moans dribble from your mouth with the strings of drool beginning to fall from your lips.

“Oh – oh,” Sanji says, groaning just as pitifully.

As he slips out of you, you shudder.

That’s when Roronoa Zoro clears his throat, and when you gasp, Sanji’s hand clasps on your upper arm as he moves you behind him in a protective instinct. But it is that familiar sound, the familiar twinkle of gold earrings clanging into each other as he shakes his head.

“You like the show?” Sanji snarls. The breathlessness pinching his lungs makes the words lose some of the bite.

“Didn’t ask for one.”

“What are you doing out here?” you ask, smoothing your skirt and feeling the heat rise slowly to your cheeks.

“Looking for the bathroom,” Zoro says from his leaning stance against the wall.

“It’s not here,” Sanji says sourly.

“Yeah, figured that out too late.”

“Okay, okay,” you say hastily. The embarrassment of the moment is still burning. “Let’s just go back inside? Find everyone?”

“Don’t you dare bring this up to everyone,” Sanji says.

“Believe me,” Zoro says as he reaches for the door handle. “Already trying to forget it.”

He hauls it open, and disappears from your view as he steps inside. The shadow darkens across Sanji’s face, and you can’t see his expression for a moment. When the light readjusts, he’s grinning sheepishly.

You dip around him and elbow him. “I think it was just – not so long. I thought I heard the door.”

“Idiot,” Sanji says without fire, and rubs the back of his head.

“It’s okay. Let’s go meet up with everyone. Oh. Fuck.”

“It’s not okay?”

“No, no, not him,” you say, and elbow him again. “You didn’t just…drop my underpants onto the ground, did you?”

His neck drops. You look down. You stare at them together, silhouetted against the dirty cobblestone. “Well,” Sanji says after a pause. “Maybe next time we’ll actually bring them back.”

[fanaticsnail]

Something Like That

Masterlist here, Request link and mood board here.

Word Count: 4,048

Hi everyone! This is the last x-mas fic I can push out before my time away over the holiday period interstate. I hope you enjoy reading for our boy Zoro. Thank you @sordidmusings for keeping me motivated! Merry Christmas, Anon! Just in case it peaks your interest @gingernut1314

Warnings: Fluff, Christmas, talks of battle scars, kissing, dancing

Just like all of the times you had ventured to Baratie, this time had every intention of being no more than passing time with delicious food. The floating restaurant atop a mighty ship was your favorite stop-off on your way home to Lougetown to visit with your extended family; the food’s glowing reputation almost did justice to the divine quality and the accompanying drinks were what dreams were made of. The fact that the staff was comprised of reformed pirates also held an appeal, considering your ties to that lifestyle as a skilled archer.

Bidding farewell to the vessel you had bartered onto for voyage, you heard a strange amount of merriment floating melodically from the wide fish-mouth at the bar lounge of the grand restaurant. You furrowed your brows, arching one up as curiosity held you captivated by the songs seeping to the surface with a wide array of demonstrated skill. Some vocals were sung blissfully, others shouted with no skill depicted within their throats. 

Taking deliberate steps with your bow in hand, quiver strapped firmly against your waistbelt and traveling satchel thrown over your shoulder, you sauntered to the grand doors and lobby of the restaurant to meet the matradee. He welcomed you with a broad smile, which rose to sit comfortably and warmly, peaking at the apples of his cheeks. His regular white formal garb was replaced with a deep emerald green dinner jacket, a small bushel of pointed leaves with red shimmery berries strung together by twine.

“Welcome back to Baratie!” He exclaimed with glee, “I have your usual table awaiting you.” He gestured a guiding hand to the right and indicated for you to follow his direction to the bottom of the twirled staircase.

Your confusion seemed to set in further as you took in your surroundings. The usual bare bars of the railing were ornately decorated with vines of sharpened, needle-like sprigs and small warm lights shining amongst the shrubbery akin to starlight. Your gaze was drawn upwards, noticing a small and sporadic assortment of floral clusters clinging to the roof and down the pillars of the supporting canopy. The bunches were of pale sage green, floating romantically down and arching their spindles out to grasp the pearled white flowers amongst the greenery.

As your gaze fell to rest upon the circular room, you noticed individuals joining against each other in embraces of romantic twirling and swaying. Their voices would raise to join with the tune regardless of how skilled they were to carry the tune, prompting you to raise an apprehensive smile to your lips.

“What is going on, sir?” you asked the fishman matradee as he chaperoned you to your regular table, “this all seems rather strange and unusual for a Monday afternoon, don’t you think?” Your tone of playful jest prompted him to chuckle in response, pulling out your chair for you to sit within your corner booth. Wordlessly, he took your bow and satchel while you unstrapped your quiver to disarm yourself to place your valuable items to be placed in the cloakroom.

“One of our kitchen-hands has returned to us, settling his dining debt from his time with us,” the matradee informed you, a playful twinkle drawn up to his eye, “and in celebration, we’re attempting to showcase a custom he had picked up on his travels.”

You hummed in response with a polite nod, brows raising with interest as you pulled your gaze over to view the diners amongst the crowd. Noticing jovial laughter and an uproar of cheers, you pulled your gaze to seek out its source. A young man with a straw hat atop dark loose curls immediately captured your attention, his eyes upturned and jaw hanging wide as he allowed another heartily laugh escape from his chest. His arms were hooked around the necks of two of his companions, drawing them in closer to his chest; a woman with short orange hair clutched within his right arm, while a bandana-clad man with a similar cheery expression lay gathered within his left.

Scanning over the remainder of the party members surrounding him, your eyes first drew to examine the tall, blonde companion. His hair skewed the view of his left eye, but what you could make of his right; he was a delight to look at. After holding your eyes against the blonde for longer than you truly thought appropriate, your eyes met with the final stranger of the party. His dark hazelnut orbs immediately locked on your probing gaze, bearing a protective intensity, his moss-coloured locks raised without much care as to which direction the strands fell.

As his eyes continued to hold your attention, you stared him down to reciprocate his wordless challenge. His brows furrowed briefly before a wolf-like grin rose to his lips, smirking up to the right-hand side of his face with an air of arrogance. Training as a skilled archer had drilled the practice of continual focus on a multitude of targets. This small challenge set your heart alight with a similar thrill to hunting a foe, the green-haired man not shying away from your attention and focus.

He was captivating. His air of protection and loyalty to his companions transferred without question of translation. You watched as he drew his dominant hand to fall to rest against a white blade hilt at his side, his wrist hanging limply against the handle atop the scabbard. He arched his left brow up at you and gestured with his chin, indicating to you that he would not shy away from a fight if one was to be offered to him. You arched up your brow with your own smirk, gesturing lightly with your hands over your torso and falling down to your waist; indicating you were currently unarmed.

Without breaking your gaze from his challenge, you reached your hand below the white tablecloth, shielding your hand from retrieving an item from your handbag beside you. You let out an audible laugh as you watched him fix his posture more upright, his smirk falling from his lips as his frown deepened in partial alarm. After feeling the hard object you were searching for, you raised it to no longer be obscured from view and rotated it within your hands to demonstrate how non-threatening the item was.

His face immediately dropped at his idiocy as his eyes took in the novel you were holding within your hands, closing his eyes and having a small smile rise to his lips. As soon as his eyes closed and soft chuckle fell from his lips, you relished in the knowledge that he was the first to back away from the intense wordless challenge he initiated with his eyes, indicating that you had won the small victory. 

While his eyes were closed, you fully examined his face. Eyes first shamelessly raking over his hair, trailing down and over his closed eyes and settling on his parted lips. His coy smile now completely risen against his lips held a foreign beauty, the creases of his cheeks indicating such softness was not a common occurrence. He was intriguing, someone you would have considered pursuing should you have had more time between your usual meal at Baratie and the upcoming ferry you had booked to shepherd the remainder of your journey. 

You shook your head, uncaring whether he would meet his intense gaze against yours again as you opened the pages of the novel you had begun reading on your journey out to sea, picking up where you last left off. The words whittled within the pages were of a variety of archery techniques and forms, a gift bestowed upon you by your favorite uncle - the one you held the most joy in rejoining with in Lougetown. 

A gentle cough interrupts the passage you were skimming, drawing your attention up to the waiter beside you. He placed down in front of you a seasonal beverage, the steam rising from the rim wafting towards your nose to envelop your senses with its rich, velvety and creamy scent. You thanked the waiter as he placed an accompanying biscotti beside the treat, the crumbled texture littering the small side dish with pebbles of its buttery substance. 

Reaching towards the handle, you raised the drink to your face, gently parting your lips and circling them to blow on the scorching liquid. After relinquishing your gentle blows to your particular satisfaction, you drew up the mug and took a quick sip of the contents. Immediately flooded by the indulgent flavor of the caramelized chocolate mixing with the creamy and decadent texture of the frothed milk. You sighed, breathing out your pleasure at being once again welcomed by the perfect combination of flavors offered to you at Baratie. Placing down again onto the circular, ceramic dish, you lifted your novel to continue reading from the last page you left of; blissfully ignorant or willfully ignoring the intense pair of eyes continuing to hold firm their locked gaze upon you.

“Something the matter, Zoro?” the Straw-Hat captain asked from beside the swordsman, clutching the bone of a perfectly prepared tomahawk steak within his right hand while chewing on the sinew, “you’ve been staring at that table for a long time now.” The swordsman remained quiet, not truly hearing the words spoken to him.

“”M’fine, Captain,” He mumbled. It was true, he had become entranced by the person he was currently inspecting. His bewitchment had only intensified as he witnessed your knowing and examining gaze falling to seek out the loud and joyous laughter falling in the air of the surroundings. You had to be a hunter, by the looks of you: whether it be seeking bounties, hunting animals or contesting mark-matching with the bow you allowed the fishman to leave with. 

“You sure there, Moss-Head?” Sanji taunted him, his signature smirk ruffling the temperament of the swordsman further, “you seem awfully focussed on the-... -Oh. Oh, they’re quite pretty, aren’t they?” Zoro snapped his gaze up to focus on the chef whose head was now shamelessly pointed directly at you, eyes searching your body and examining him the way Zoro was trying hard not to. 

“What of it, waiter?” he growled in a disinterested snarl. Sanji slowly dragged his gaze from your body over to face the swordsman once more, eyes darkening with a challenging intensity. 

“I think they’re very pretty, indeed,” Sanji’s exposed brow twitched in an upturned flirtatious suggestion. Usopp smirked, leaning in on his elbows to get a better view of the show Sanji was absolutely going to engage against the swordsman while Nami shook her head. Rolling her eyes, she sat back to rest her shoulders against the plush booth, tilting her head down to shield her smirk to remain hidden in her expression of amusement at their rivalry. 

“I think they’re so pretty, in fact,” Sanji snuck another glance at you, watching as you pursed your lips while turning another page of your novel, “I think I’m going to ask them to dance the next round.”

“What’d you say, waiter?” Zoro tilted his head, attempting to hold his composure and feign disinterest at the challenge. The subtle gruff anchor of his voice gave him away, Zoro winced at his own vocal tone. Sanji chuckled at the failed attempt, choosing to draw his elbows against the table and cradle his chin to rest atop his laced fingertips. 

“It’s not like you’re man enough to ask her to dance, anyway,” Sanji’s smirk rose into a broader grin, relishing in Zoro’s physical reaction of sharpening his posture to rise against the jab. The blonde chef chuckled darkly, drawing his lips to press against his fingertips before suggesting with another jab: “Someone like that looks like they’d prefer to be held in the arms of a real man, not something like you, Demon.”

“I’ll let the two of you know when I see one,” the orange-haired navigator murmured in a low tone, her voice immediately capturing the attention of the two bickering crewmates. Usopp feigned pain, clutching at his heart briefly before nodding in confirmation of her comments: both flinging their heads back in unbridled laughter at the motion. Luffy continued to remain blissfully ignorant, finally sucking at the large bone to rid the object from all edible elements of the dish while offering a small laugh of his own. Although he truly had no idea why they were laughing at that moment, he was happy his crew was getting along - to the best of his knowledge, anyway.

That was the occasion after all: merriment and joyfulness being the central point of the entire reason for this celebration. Sanji and Zoro turned back to face each other again, eyes bearing an electric intensity as they met their rival’s challenge. 

“No,” Zoro gruffly growled, his lips curling in a small snarl. Sanji arched his head to stretch out his neck, eyes closing as he felt a gentle ‘pop’ and sighing in reaction. 

“You gonna actually approach them and ask them to dance?” Sanji lazily taunted him, his smirk returning, “or am I going to get there first?”

At that final nudge, Zoro was away from the table and almost stomping his heavy boots against the polished floorboards like a chastised toddler. Sanji chuckled at the response, reaching forward to claim a portion of the confit potatoes to place on his plate. 

“I gotta know, man,” Usopp leant in towards Sanji, his broad smile rising to his cheeks, “were you that interested in them, or just wanted to get a rise from Zoro? I can never tell with you.”

“That’s my secret, Great Captain Usopp,” Sanji’s left corner of his lip curled up in a smirk with a playful glimmer in his eye returning, “I’m always interested in getting a rise out of him. Beautiful strangers are always a bonus. My favorite is when those two things are not mutually exclusive,” he chuckled, collecting an assortment of ingredients on his fork and raising the utensil up to his lips, “two birds with one stone, and all that.”

The thud of heavy boots alerted you to a figure closing the distance between themselves and your body. The thumps of the hard boots against the polished floor reverberated with a sense of danger. Patiently, with a sigh exiting your parted lips, you placed a small piece of parchment back into your novel to tab the chapter and slowly turned to look at the approaching figure. 

“Can I help you?” you asked, a bored tone with a subtle air of cautious warning befalling your cadence. As you drew your eyes up, you noticed the same intense gaze from earlier falling to meet your sat position on the table. His eyebrow seemed to twitch, indicating slight agitation as his jaw was clenched tightly shut. Cocking your head to the side, you allowed a partial softness to grace your features as you danced your eyes between focussing on each of his hazelnut orbs.

“I-, uh-,” the man was stumbling over his words, unable to string a sentence of cohesion together. He raised his hand to the scruff of his neck, pinching the flesh with his calloused hands and grimacing at his expression. 

“You?” you cooed up at him, a smirk rising once more to your lips. You shook your head, hair dancing at the small sway of movement. Your attention was once again captivated by him; the arrogant energy you had initially met your gaze with was dismantled under his apprehensive aura. 

Zoro had every intention of proving how much of a ‘real man’ he was to his crew, although not so much of a display in masculinity; but more of a need to not allow Sanji the pleasure or satisfaction of flirting with someone so enchanting as you. He was going to simply offer his hand to you, smirk in a gesture to ask you to join him on the dance floor and parade you in front of his crew. But alas, as soon as his eyes met with yours once again; he felt helpless and small under your huntress eyes.

“Well, are you going to stand there all rigid, swordsman?” you taunted, reclining in your seat and resting your elbow atop the backrest, “Or are you going to take a seat?”

Again, Zoro found himself taken aback by your direct approach. He followed your index and middle finger as you gestured to the empty seat in front of you. He shook his head a little to rid him of his prior bewilderment and then apprehensively moved to withdraw the chair to take a seat. You took him in, watching his deliberate movements in the way he sat atop the chair: every action intentional. As he sat, he offered no conversation other than broody silence. His eyes would flitter over to check-in on his prior dining companions and grimacing as his gaze was met with taunting gestures from his crew.

“Friends of yours?” you asked him, brow arched and reaching for the handle of your mug. 

“Something like that,” he uttered in a gruff tone, arms folding abrasively over his chest. You chuckled at his tone, taking a small sip from your mug and eyeing him deliberately. 

“Care to share further, or would you prefer having another wordless exchange?” you placed the empty cup back down on the dish and offered another challenging smile. He snapped his eyes back to yours and his smirk rose again to his lips. 

“They’re my crew,” his rumbly chuckle was withheld in his chest beneath his smirk, “I like half of them, but respect the lot of them.”

You hummed in response, index finger dancing atop the rim of your relinquished mug of hot chocolate. “Would you like to tell me more? I’m all ears about the ones you like and the ones you’re less fond of.”

Over the course of the next few hours, the swordsman and you would swap tales of travels throughout the East Blue and the Grand Line. Foes bested, beasts conquered and sorrows overcome: the tales of injuries you had both granted to opponents and received at the hands of them. He leant back against the back of his chair and slowly unbuttoned his shirt and hooked his fingers within the collar and hemline of his shirt to draw it back to showcase proudly to you. You felt your breath hitching in your throat at not only the physique of the swordsman, but in awe at the large healed mark slashed across his torso. You felt utterly ill-seasoned with your smaller indents of arrows and thrown dagger marks littering your shoulders. As you hooked your middle finger in your left shoulder strap and coyly revealed the small silver, healed markings, Zoro was held captivated by the marks to showcase your tales of battle. 

Enamored, awestruck and enchanted; you both held a small lilt of encaptured silence, leaning in on your forearms against the white tablecloth and gazing into the eyes of one another. Respecting your mutual combatant skill, both you and Zoro’s eyes fell half-lidded in adoration as you held each other’s undivided attention. 

The music and merriment fell into a slow tune, reflective of the seasonal tradition Baratie was attempting to celebrate with succession. Zoro was the first to break the silence between you, placing his left hand on the table with his palm up.

“Would you wanna dance?” he asked, his drawl gruff but attempting to remain polite in his request. You smiled, reaching your right hand to fall within his own, his hand immediately circling around your fingers firmly. His thumb circled over your four fingers, caressing his calloused and experienced hands over your skin.

“You don’t seem like much of a dancer, Zoro,” you commented, both rising to your feet. He drew you in close. Keeping his left hand extended upwards, and raking his right over the mid of your back to draw your torso flush with his, he uttered: “I’m not, but it seemed appropriate. Considering the holiday, and all.”

“Ah, yes. We never did quite get to discussing what all this,” you gestured with your chin, smiling at the decorations surrounding the room, “was all about.”

“I’m not really sure on the minor details,” he shrugged, awkwardly swaying you to the music, “Cap’n just said something about different traditions needing to be incorporated. Something about food, music, dancing, and decoration-...-oh. Oh, no-.”

You furrowed your brows, looking up at the roof to follow after his risen gaze. A small sprig of white, pearled flowers hung over your heads, accompanied by sage-coloured oblong leaves wrapped in ribbons of satin and twine. You cocked your head, left brow raising in curiosity at the flowers and their significance. Drawing your gaze back to the swordsman in front of you, you noticed he was stooping himself all the more closer to you.

“What are you doing, swordsman?” you questioned, halting him in his descention towards you. 

“This is one of those traditions,” he said, unlacing your right hand from his left and wordlessly asking with his eyes for permission to cradle your cheek within his palm. You looked at the hand first, then drew your eyes back up to meet his intense gaze. Smiling, you placed your cheek into his awaiting palm while holding his gaze firmly against your own. 

“Touching a stranger’s face beneath strange flowers is a strange tradition,” you furrowed your brows at him once more in curiosity.

“Kissing them beneath strange flowers,” he corrected you, leaning to join his lips immediately against your own. A small squeak fled from your lips, eyes widening as you felt the intensity falling from his chapped lips onto your own.

This was not how you pictured your return to Baratie to go at all. Sure, you had dreamed of meeting a handsome stranger and sharing an embrace with them. The stars just never aligned for you in any way that drew you close enough to share a kiss with them, only ever moments of story swapping or sharing a meal or two with many travelers accompanying you. 

You allowed yourself to become relaxed into the embrace, reaching your hands up to circle his neck below the assortment of flowers. His brows furrowed in concentration as he inhaled sharply through his nose in reaction to your reciprocation. You smiled, closing your eyes and tickling the scruff of his neck beneath your fingertips; lacing his untamed sea-sprayed locks within them. He expertly opened your mouth to taste more of your lips by angling his chin upwards against your own. A small groan rumbled within his chest, passing from his mouth to fall against your own as he continued to cradle you against himself.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from his embrace with your eyes remaining closed. You felt a small pause falling with his next actions, before you felt a warm forehead press against your own. You reopened your eyes, your half-lidded and lazy smile mirrored against the face of the swordsman you just shared a kiss with. 

Interrupting your embrace, an announcement was called over the speakers. The crackle of cables and wires sprung to life within the metal relay, alerting you with a vocal command: “The next vessel to Lougetown has arrived. All those traveling to Lougetown, report to the peer with your documents. Next vessel to Lougetown will depart in twenty minutes.”

“That’s me, unfortunately,” you sighed, eyes remaining closed but lips drawn up in a wide smile. 

“Business in Lougetown?” Zoro’s whisper rumbled within his chest. 

“Something like that,” you withdrew your forehead from its place resting against his own, “much akin to your crew, although I’m held attached by biological relation.”

“Anyone I’d know?” Zoro smirked, eyes remaining partly glazed over enamored by your small daliance. 

“I never ‘name drop’, swordsman,” you cooed up at him while unlacing your arms from his embrace, “but if you’re in the general area,” you retrieved your belongings from your table and laced your handbag and novel over your shoulder, “I’ll be at the G-5 Marine Base with my uncle for the next month for training.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” he smirked, eyes upturning to indicate his joy at the thought of meeting with you once again.

[koiiiji]

Heey I loved the joker nsfw scenario you write so goood can I request sth very fluffy for example how each day with him goes, where he takes us on dates and so on?🩷 also you could maybe include some angsty scenarios where we want to watch him at a fight night but he doesn’t want us to see the cruel world he lives in bcs hes so protective and etc

suuure hun!!! sorry that it took me too long to answer, have no idea why ur request displayed in my app only after 6 days so i started to work on it late.

hope you will like it! enjoy🤓🤍

xo-xo💋

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ───

mere mention of apples brought a fond smile to your lips, thinking of Joker's peculiar fondness for everything apple-related. from his shampoo to his gum, his love for the crisp fruit permeated every aspect of his life. you even gift him home fragrance with apple taste. and especially joker liked sweets with apples, all kind of pies, muffins, ice creams and etc, everything with apples. and when you stumbled upon the viral tiktok video featuring the famed apple croissant, you knew it was the perfect choice for your date. you immediately sent a link of that café to Joker. no need to say that date idea was approved in a second.

as you rode the metro toward the new cafe, anticipation for your date with Joker bubbled within you. dressed in your best outfit and with your makeup flawlessly applied, you were ready to make this a day unforgettable, preferably without any distractions from his “colleagues.” or so you thought.

but just as you were lost in thoughts of sugary delights and stolen moments with Joker, a notification from him shattered your reverie. Your smile faltered as you read his message, the words weighing heavily on your heart. “sorry, im in the bar, Wooin said it emergency. don’t wait for me, maybe ask your friends and have fun. i’ll be late. sorry.”

with a sigh, you decided to continue the date alone, and buy that damn apple croissants, unwilling to let Wooin's interference ruin at least your evening. the idea of waiting for your girls seemed futile, knowing they likely had their own plans for evening.

when you entered the cafe, when you were paying for your croissant, you still couldn’t get rid of unpleasant idea. you knew Joker hated it when you stepped into his “work life” and saw him fighting in the actagon. but since Wooin decided to take him away from you so brazenly, you thought that there would be nothing wrong with you grabbing him after this stupid match, and taking a take out bag of croissants with you, you headed to that ill-fated bar.

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ───

as you walked into the dimly lit bar, the contrast to -at least expected- date was stark. the once vibrant excitement for sharing apple croissant after that damn match had faded, replaced by a sense of disappointment and frustration. the air hung heavy with the stench of alcohol, mingling with the faint undertones of stale sweat and spilled drinks. each step you took seemed to echo against the grimy floor, the stickiness clinging to the soles of your shoes, a tangible reminder of the less-than-inviting atmosphere.

despite your reluctance, you made your way through the crowded space, weaving through intoxicated patrons who stumbled and swayed in a haphazard dance of inebriation. the cacophony of voices, laughter, and clinking glasses assaulted your senses, drowning out any semblance of peace or tranquility.

as you approached the bar, your eyes scanned the dimly lit room, searching for the familiar figure of Joker amidst the chaotic scene. and then, like a sudden chill down your spine, you felt the unwelcome presence of an arm slung over your shoulder.

"hi there, little thing," came Wooin's voice, dripping with an unsettling mixture of familiarity and condescension. words sent a shiver down your spine, his presence a stark reminder of the intrusion upon your plans and the disruption of your evening.

despite the façade of casualness in his tone, there was an underlying tension, silent dislike, Wooin never liked your presence, Joker was distracted, which means he did his job badly. you resisted the urge to shrug off his arm, instead steeling yourself with a forced smile, masking the turmoil brewing beneath the surface.

in that moment, surrounded by the oppressive atmosphere of the bar and the unwelcome company of Wooin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal, both by Joker's absence and by the intrusion of his colleague into your plans. it was a bitter reminder of the complexities of relationships, the delicate balance between loyalty and disappointment. and then your heart sank. the crowd roared, drawing attention to the center of the bar. to the octagon. people seemed to be chanting someone's name, and it clearly wasn't Joker’s. Even though Joker protected you from this world and did not allow you to appear at his fights, you knew he never lost, so why was the crowd rooting for someone else today? these and other thoughts were constantly running through your head.

as you watched in disbelief, Wooin approached you with a sly grin, his words cutting through the chaos of the bar like a knife. "you see, darling," he began, his voice dripping with malice, "Joker's task tonight is not to win, but to fall." the revelation hit you like a sucker punch to the gut, leaving you reeling with shock and betrayal.

as the fight in the octagon reached its climax, you stood frozen in the midst of the raucous crowd, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and disbelief. you couldn't tear your eyes away from Joker, his form battered and bruised. Wooin's words echoed in your mind, Joker's gaze found yours across the sea of spectators. In that moment of connection, you saw the pain etched in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness.

as the final blow landed, and Joker stumbled to the ground, you felt a surge of anguish wash over you. it was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that his fall had been orchestrated not by his opponent's strength, but by the cold calculations of those who saw him as nothing more than a pawn in their game.

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ───

in the quiet solitude of the changing rooms, you found Joker sitting alone, his hands trembling as he attempted to patch up his wounds. without a word, you approached him, your hands reaching out to gently grasp his own.

in that moment of shared vulnerability, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of clarity and resolve. and as Wooin's departing footsteps echoed in the distance, leaving you alone with Joker, you knew that this was your chance to confront the truth that lay between you.

with a trembling voice, you said “you know that you always can stop doing.. this..” after thinking a little, you added "and start with something new..." you looked around the small room, meaning all his work in general, "well, less violent". Joker just smiled at you and with a trembling hand reached for the bag that you had brought with you, his fingers brushing against the delicate pastry nestled within. with a bittersweet smile, he took a bite of the apple croissant, savoring the taste of sweetness and redemption that lingered on his lips.

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ───

[joelsmochi]

Us Against the World

A/N: How easy is it to come back after a 4 month (unplanned) hiatus? Not easy. At all. Sorry for my absence darlings, a lot has been going on from moving to health issues to new jobs… It’s been so hectic that I am willing to admit that this piece of garbage was also being worked on over the entire 4 months I hadn’t posted. This was all I could conjure up, but I wanted to polish this off so I could move onto the next project, so I also apologize for how rushed this one kind of ends + it doesn’t have the same lighthearted tone as the first 2 parts. Regardless I hope you enjoy reading (don’t judge it too critically… I’m begging.) Also I think when I pasted this it got rid of my italicized and bolded words -.- (i am serious about italics)

warnings: 18+, kinda mean!jealous!insecure!joel, cclg/ddlg [attitude] dynamic, punishment (but it’s really a reward ;]), angst, more panty kink, some useless scenes, chance of getting caught, a little sadness and a bit cheesy, lazily proofread so expect grammar issues + typos!, i don’t wanna spoil so it ends there byeee (let me know if i missed any please!)

wc: 10k (will the length make up for how bad it is? no? ok >.<)

series masterlist | main masterlist

The bar was filled with laughter and short applause from people winning their games. It smelled slightly of stale alcohol and oak wood.

You had just walked in with Joel behind you. As you were taking in your surroundings, Joel had already seen a guy or two look you up and down. He chose not to say anything. They weren’t worth the trouble.

You both sat at the bar and ordered two beers though you weren’t necessarily trying to getting drunk tonight. You just wanted to keep your promise of making him jealous.

He didn’t think you’d actually go through with it, but when he saw your eyes go from your fresh drink to scanning the men around the bar he knew he was in for a real treat.

“You’re serious ‘bout this?” He rhetorically asked.

You only gave him part of a smile and a shrug to say and what if I am?

He half rolled his eyes and sipped his beer, immediately grimacing at its subpar taste.

“Fine. Do whateeeeever you want, little girl. Just like you always do,” he said. “Gon’ and dance for other guys. I don’t give a damn.”

You glared at him when he called you a little girl, keening a dark chuckle from him. He was poking the bear inside you, waiting for the moment you would choose to give up on your cunning idea.

You stood up out of spite and slowly walked over to a man roughly your age, clad in some lousy outfit that somehow made him stand out to you.

The teasing smirk Joel was wearing replaced itself with a scowl. You swore you felt him shooting daggers into your back as you whispered in the younger man’s ear.

“Wanna dance?”

The boy looked at you with excitement and surprise, bashfully nodding and following you when you pulled him next to the other dancing couples.

You pressed your back into his and looked everywhere except for where Joel was sitting, swaying your hips in sync with your dance partner and occasionally pressing back into his crotch gently.

Joel stared long and hard at the boy who was just using the curve of your ass to jerk off, yet when his eyes wandered to you, all he could do was think about using you like that, only with fewer clothes on.

The song ended and Joel thought it would be the end of your shenanigans; he watched as you whispered in the young man’s ear again, and once you pulled away he motioned for his friend to come over.

Another young man approached the front of you, and you gave him a flirty smile as your arms linked around his neck.

Joel was gritting his teeth so hard he was sure he heard one crack. He wanted to keep his cool, not give you the satisfaction, but watching you dance for men that were your age when he was already insecure about being thirteen years older than you pissed him off.

He knew you were just having fun, but fucking hell.

He hated seeing those idiots practically fucking hump you in the middle of the bar. They were feral and inadequate compared to Joel who knew they could never take care of you the way you needed to be taken care of.

Joel had about enough when the boy in front of you began slipping his thumbs underneath your baby tee and saw how it made you tense up so he reached in his wallet for cash to pay for the drinks. Then, he stomped over you and grabbed your arm, snatching your body from between the two men.

“Fuckin’ idiots,” Joel growled at them before pulling you behind him. He felt you resisting his grip after entering the parking lot so he grabbed your hips and picked you up. He sat you in the passenger seat then got in himself, driving back home without saying a word.

You knew you were in for it.

Once you two made it to his place you were trying to get Joel to speak to you. He just gave you a hard look and tossed you over his shoulder without further resistance; he carried you to his bedroom, sat down, and forced you to bend over in his lap.

“I’m sorry, Jo—ow!”

He had landed a firm slap across the back of your thigh and then broke the zipper on your shorts from yanking them down. Your hips ached from the waistband digging into your bones. You tried wiggling from his grasp causing him to grab a fistful of your hair and yank it back.

He smoothed a hand over the peaks of your ass for a few seconds, not wanting to hurt his precious girl.

But then he remembered how you left him without a care in the world just to spite him.

He gave you another spank that burned furiously against your flesh and forced a cry out of your throat.

“I’ll never do it again,” you pleaded, “I swear! Joel—“

Another smack.

“Fuckin’ damn right, you won’t,” he grunted, watching your ass color red. “You wanna fuck some dumb college boy, huh?”

You whimpered and waved your feet around desperately.

Smack! “Answer me when I ask you a question. Do you wanna fuck people your own fucking age?”

You shook your head frighteningly fast, waving your feet around more as if it would get him to release your hair but his grip only tightened. “No, Joel! I only want you—just you. Please, Joel, I’m sorry.”

He tugged at your panties, not too harshly, just gently enough to create a wedge between your cheeks. You were thankful he didn’t notice your eyes roll back and the soft moan that left you from the friction against your throbbing clit and asshole.

“My ol’ ass not enough for you? S’that it?” He whispered in your ear.

“Of course not—“

He popped you again from your words before pulling your panties up again, hating how you said it like it should have been obvious.

He watched you grind into the taut cloth, humping his knee. Although it was a subconscious movement from your body it didn’t stop him from letting out a humorous laugh.

“So fucking needy, ain’t ya?” He cooed, releasing the fabric and trailing a thick finger down the wet spot in your panties. “M’over here punishin’ you and you’re fucking my leg.”

“M’sorry,” you mumbled.

“You like it when I spank you?” He cooed in your ear; you nodded and he chuckled softly, tickling the hairs along your neck. “Yeah?”

“I like it when—… When you pull my panties,” you bashfully admit. “Feels good.”

He slowly let your hair go and cradled your jaw softly to keep your head up. With a smirk, he toyed with the linings of your panties. “You like when I hurt that pretty little ass a’yours?”

You hummed, taking one of his fingers in your mouth. He circled the pad of his middle finger around the rim of your clothed asshole, letting out a hum or a chuckle every time he felt it pulse.

“You’re gonna be good from now on, girl?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered against his fingers, spit drooling into his palm.

“Good,” he hummed softly, “good.”

“Can you,” you paused, unsure of why you were still acting shy. “Can you please pull my panties again?”

He happily obliged, starting a little gentler this time. He watched the shadow of your face contort with pleasure while you moaned softly, grinding your clit into his knee some more.

He watched one of your swollen pussy lips escape from the constriction so he pulled them some more to make the other lip appear.

You moaned at the thin fabric being engulfed by your cunt, clenching so more of your juices oozed out.

You felt his finger gently slip beneath the fabric to rub your wet entrance. You exhaled at his long finger slipping inside of you, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your asshole to circle it briefly.

He removed his finger and snuggled your panties up more. The friction stung your skin deliciously. He landed a smack on your ass cheek with the noise piercing your ears; you yelped and flinched, seductively laughing afterward.

Joel noticed the outline of his hand appearing along your flesh, red and bruised. He kneaded it with his palm and told you to bend over the edge of his bed. Once you were on your stomach again you felt him pull your shorts off of you completely, then your panties. His hands warmed over your thighs, grazing your ass and touching your lower back. He pressed his thumbs in slightly to massage you there for a few seconds before he slid his hands back down again to spread your ass.

You held your lip between your teeth throughout his touches, not wanting to make any noises in case he wanted you quiet.

The cool arousal leaving your body dripped down to your clit almost making you flinch from the temperature difference. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, seeking his fingers or his tongue or his cock — anything. His laugh was taunting and raspy, seeing how desperate you were for him.

"Such a needy girl, hmm?" He took a deep breath leaning into your flesh; his tongue scooped up your juices from your clit to your ass in one long, heavy lick. You gasped, surprised by the sudden contact. You were left disappointed when he didn’t continue lapping at you, but a rush of joy ran through you at the sound of his belt unbuckling behind you.

He heard your simpering little giggle, smiling at how cute it sounded but still popping your right ass cheek where you had begun to bruise. You hissed, chewing on your lip while he undressed from the waist down.

He teased his length along your slit, spreading your wetness upwards and slapping his fat tip roughly against the tight ring of muscle.

And it fucking hurt, more than you were expecting, but judging by Joel’s chuckle he already knew it would.

You understood his need to humiliate you. That was the whole reason for doing what you did. You wanted him to have his way with you just as you had a few nights ago.

But you hurt his feelings more than you expected to and much more than he would like to admit.

He slapped your puckering hole even harder to elicit a response from you, satisfied when you groaned his name.

“Joooel, that hurts.”

He lined up with your pussy, not quite touching you yet. His only response was, “Good,” before shoving his thick cock inside of you.

You screamed at him tearing your walls apart with cruelty, clenching furiously around him to try and adjust quicker.

But he wouldn’t let you.

He pulled out of you to watch your muscles flex for a second, then rammed back inside of you; he stayed as deep as he could.

After ensuring your stomach would remain glued to the bed his lips pressed a wet kiss to the rim of your ear. He listened to your soft cries, feeling your hips wriggle beneath him.

“You gonna be good for me?” He asked again.

You panted with annoyance and told him, “If you fucking ease up on me.”

It was an absentminded comment with consequences you’d be dealing with for days. Joel just clicked his tongue at you and dug his hips into your flesh deeper. His cockhead nudged your cervix serving up a mixture of pain and pleasure throughout your stomach.

He didn’t want to be too mean, however, so he pulled back and pushed his weight into your lower back from his palms. Your stomach being smooshed into the bed made the impacts of his thrusts feel deeper than they were.

Your precum enthusiastically coated his shaft, lubing your entrance as he rammed into you. Your voice was breathy as you spoke.

“Joel—th-that feels… That feels good.” Your eyelids hung low creating a blurry line of vision, head bobbing from his stuttering hips.

“You like getting fucked like a slut?” He spat to which you confirmed. “S’that why you act like one?”

You admitted your faults, not wanting him to ease up on you.

“You wanna fucking dance on someone again?”

You didn’t respond, too immersed in how good he was touching you.

He grunted, pulling out of you leaving strings of your precum mixed with his hanging; he flipped you around and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, using his other hand to hold you at the base of your spine. He lifted you off of the bed, making you yelp.

Once he got into a comfortable position he removed his hand from your neck, showing you how strong he was being able to hold you up on his own. Your legs looped around his waist as he stood tall, your hands clinging to the broad peaks of his shoulders.

“Look at me,” he whispered; not wanting to be scolded again you lazily obliged. He laughed like a bully at your worn-out expression. “You’re so pretty like this, already fucked out like you can’t handle it.”

“Too much,” you complained against his lips in a short breath.

His hips snapped into yours, jolting your eyes wide open. “I don’t care. You wanted to act like a slut, so you’re gonna have to get fucked like one.”

“Joel—“

He shut you up by shoving his free fingers into your mouth, while the nails of his other hand dug into your back.

He didn’t want to hear your apologies anymore, or your complaints. He wanted you to shut up and take it, like a good fucking girl.

He saw the hindrance of innocence in your eyes that tried to beckon his forgiveness. He ignored it, meeting you with a punishing frown. The heavyweight stare riddled your nerves with anxiety — you didn’t want to disappoint him again.

He ravaged your attitude, breaking you down until he got his way with you just like you had all this time.

“You gonna be a good girl?” He asked again, shoving his fingers further back. You hummed into his hand and nodded, eyes as wide as saucers. He gasped when you twirled your tongue around his digits, slurping up the taste of his flesh. “You like that?”

“Mmhmmm.”

He experimented by pushing his fingers deeper, hitting the back of your throat; you gagged and coughed, but bit down on his knuckles so that he wouldn’t take them out.

His thrusts slowed because he was too focused on feeling your throat, something that felt entirely different against his fingers versus his cock.

Seeking his approval, you took this as an opportunity to fuck yourself on him. With your shaky fingers pressing into his shoulder blades you lifted you rocked your hips up and down, clenching around his length often.

“Look at’cha… You need to cum baby?” His fingers left your mouth indicating he wanted a verbal response.

“Yes, please,” you whimpered. “I’ll be good for you.”

“You’ll be good?”

“Yes. Fuck—yes. I’ll be so good for you, Joel. I promise. I’ll be a good girl for you.”

He moaned at your cunt gripping him, smiling at how you humped him. You couldn’t hide your deprivation from him any longer, but he wanted you to earn it.

“Put your fingers in your mouth,” he instructed, smirking when you did so immediately. He gripped your ass with both of his wide hands to steady you. “Yeah, there you go. S’pretty like this…”

Your hair was glued to the sweat on your face and your eyes were low with a wave of tears waiting to spill onto your cheeks. Your teeth waned behind your red lips as you gurgled from choking on your saliva.

“You’re so pretty for me, princess,” he cooed; despite the softness in his voice, his tone was still suggestive of his anger.

He was on the verge of forgiving you, but he still wasn’t quite there yet.

Your arms and core were growing weaker the harder you worked your body on his, but you were so determined to cum — and to do it on his command.

“Tell me how pretty you are,” he said with a devilish grin widening.

You were a little lost — what exactly did he want?

“Hmm?” You hummed, unintentionally slowing down.

“Tell me… How pretty you are,” he said again.

“Um…” Your mind was blank, God, Joel could really fuck you stupid, couldn’t he? “I’m—I’m so pretty,” you whispered.

You couldn’t think of what to say.

Maybe if I compliment myself the way Joel does…

“You like how pretty I am for you?” You asked. “All fucked out from your cock?”

His eyes rolled shut as he let out an obscenely long groan.

He liked that, you thought.

“I look so pretty with your cock stretching me out, don’t I? Hmm, yes, fuck—ah! You make me so pretty when you let me fuck myself on you, Joel—gah! Do you—fuck. Do you wanna see how pretty I am when I cum like this?”

His eyes shot open at the proposal, the only words his mind was able to compute being, “Yes, princess. Yes, yes, cum for me—mnh, God. You feel so fucking good.”

His words were encouraging enough to keep you going, long enough to light that fire that tickled you red.

“Show me how fuckin’ pretty you look when you cum for me, baby.”

Your ass stung from him squeezing where his punishment landed, adding fuel to your rising orgasm.

He saw it spread across your precious body: your eyes wavering between open and close, your mouth pouting with his name leaving your tight throat, your nipples peaking, goosebumps flaring across your entire body.

You were flushed red and heaving and Joel couldn’t look away. You looked so ethereal, wrapping your fluttering pussy around the base of his dick and grinding in circular motions.

Pins and needles poked your arms from holding your weight, but the climax felt too good to let up so soon. You were sensitive, knotty, and engulfed in the stillness you were finally able to have.

“My pretty girl,” Joel whispered sweetly.

You opened your lazy eyes, giving him a soft smile. “Show me how pretty you are when you cum,” you said against his lips.

He took a moment to catch his breath before propping his arms underneath your thighs one by one. Your body thanked you for the relief.

Your cunt squelched cum onto his balls while the air thickened with the aroma of sex and sweat.

So sleepy, you felt as he continued to drive his hips into you, but he was so handsome in the low light of the moon. You felt your soul tie to his own, blending your orgasm into admiration for the man.

This was anything but the casual agreement you two had come to weeks ago, but fuck was it well worth it. His jealousy was a sign of a weakness he only possessed when it came to you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he whispered with need. You wrapped your hands around his jawline and pressed his lips against yours.

The slip of your tongue against his was nasty. It was fucking filthy. You licked each other anywhere you could reach, coating one another in saliva as if to mark your territories.

Joel whimpered against your lips, admitting his arrival in the middle of the kiss. “I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I—…”

His mouth parted as he brought you impossibly close to his body, and he felt a knee nearly give out from the intensity of his orgasm. He drifted his body to the floor so he could sit on his knees, not wanting to drop you.

His thrusts were small and deep as he continued ruining your sore walls with his ropes of cum.

Still entangled in a series of kisses, they simmered to a savory pace. You tasted each other and relished in the filthy mix of bodily fluids.

You’d never been so sweaty from sex in your life yet it felt so fucking amazing.

He pumped you so full of cum that even with his cock plugging you a little bit of it managed to leak out. You both smiled at the feeling and broke away from each other's lips.

With your head tossed back on the edge of his bed and his head resting on your chest, you just sat there in silence.

His hands gloss over your back and your fingers stroking the wet curls on his head. You wanted to stay here forever, clinging to him like a bear to a tree.

He pressed a kiss onto your collarbone before raising his head to look at you.

“You hungry?” He asked.

“Mm-hmm,” you moaned shut-eyed, obviously very tired from sex. He grunted from standing up again and laid you in the cold bed before grabbing your panties and slipping them back up your legs. You finished it for him, making sure they were snug against your entrance to keep the cum from spilling out too much.

“I’ll go get some takeout, princess.”

You hummed with a small smile at his new nickname for you, feeling him press a kiss to your temple before you fell into a deep slumber.

“What are you doin’?” Joel yawned as he entered the kitchen.

“I am making us eggs and only eggs because you have a poor selection of breakfast foods.”

He snickered, closing the space between you and wrapping his warm arms around your waist. “Well, thank you, princess,” he mumbled against the curve of your neck.

His fingers slipped beneath the shirt you borrowed from him and found the hem of your panties. You didn’t allow his hands to distract you as you spread the fluffy eggs out over two plates.

“I guess this…” His fingers slipped inside of your partially wet cunt, curling just the way you like. “…is my breakfast.”

You shivered as goosebumps poked your skin from the motion of his hand, and you smirked to yourself when his other hand tugged at your panties. Once they hit the ground he bent you over slightly to pull his cock out, gliding it along your slit to tease you. You turned the stove off and gripped the counter, careful to not burn yourself.

Not even a moment later you felt his velvety cock smack against the peak of your ass, and you moaned at how warm he felt against your cold flesh.

“Joel,” you exhaled. “You’re fucking ruining me.”

“Y’say it like it’s a bad thing,” he grunted whilst sliding inside of you.

You moaned, eyes closing softly. “Not at all.”

He rolled his hips slowly, careful not to break you any more than he did just the night before. His hot breath filled your ears with decadent compliments about how good you were for him and how much he wanted to show his appreciation.

Joel fought a moan every time he saw your eyelashes flutter shut and heard you sharply inhale between gritted teeth. His confession of admiration seemed to hold more weight than before. That knot inside of you gushes at his rasps of affection, pushing you toward the edge.

You focused on how he felt, every little thing he was doing: his left hand held you steady at your hip while his right stroked your hair calmly as if you were his new pet kitten. His hips curled into the shape of you as if his body was planting kisses anywhere you managed to still be bruised from his punishments. His thighs trembled against the back of your stiff legs, urging you to let go whenever you were ready, not quite rushing you.

His voice was staggering and cracking, the words I love you straining against his throat from him suffocating it with praises instead.

You knew all of the you’re doing so good f’me’s and you sound so beautiful’s and you look so pretty with my cock inside of you’s were just invulnerably hidden I love you’s, but it didn’t bother you.

You understood what he truly meant and that’s all you needed for now.

His lovely teeth nibbled into the valley of your ear earning a giggle from you; you were so close—so fucking close. You needed more.

You tried rubbing your swollen and throbbing clit yourself but it wasn’t enough. Joel’s need to take care of you radiated from the heat of his body and you craved more of his touch; you moved his hand from your hip to your stiff bud, guiding his fingers to perform the way you sought.

His fingers were strong and thick and just what you needed to overflow, clawing at his bicep, leaning your head back to rest upon his shoulder.

It felt so good to be held by him. A longing that burrowed itself into your soul resurfaced. Ready to be fulfilled by him.

His words turned into simpering little mewls of yes’s and cum for me’s as you clenched around him.

He knew you were just barely there and he was adamant on not changing his pace or patterns if it meant he could watch you crumble.

Joel’s right hand left your hair and held your agape jaw to keep your head from bobbing too much after one of your legs buckled and your grip around his muscles tightened. He increased the force of his thrusts emphasizing the sound of his hips clapping against your heated skin.

His body was aching from the lack of rest but every moan you let out was so soft and subtle that it motivated him to continue.

Your breathing was shallow, filled with whimpers since he wouldn’t ease up on your sore cunt, but you loved it. Your body craved the sin of secrecy that had Joel’s name written all over it.

All the sneaking around, lying, and pretending you two are nothing more than long-time neighbors made all of this worth it. The games. Chasing each other. Waiting days—if not weeks just for a kiss was the thrill of it all.

Deep down you knew it couldn’t last forever; it’d either have to come out or come to an end. But couldn’t you live in the fantasy just for a little while,

moaning Joel’s name a little longer,

feeling the thick cum etched between your bodies,

feeling him stiffen up or jolt whenever your breath hit his sensitive ears,

laughing every time he accidentally slipped out,

getting so carried away that you couldn’t hear anything else…

…Like the garage door opening.

“Oh! Shit!”

You and Joel immediately pulled away, shocked by the sudden boom of Tommy’s voice; with trembling legs, you struggled your underwear back up while Joel tried to tuck in what refused to be hidden.

“Sorry, guys, I didn’t…” Tommy’s voice trailed off as he looked over and realized it was… You?

Wearing one of Joel’s big t-shirts and some rainbow-striped socks, Tommy said your name as if he couldn’t believe it was you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out.

“Jesus, Tommy. Quit lookin’ at her like that,” Joel complained while ushering Tommy into the next room.

“Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat.” Joel briefly looked back at you with those puppy eyes of his and asked if you were okay. You could only give him a tense nod in response.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in before looking at the plate of now-cold eggs.

Embarrassed wasn’t even the word. Distress curled around every crevice in the pit of your stomach making you feel nauseous.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, regaining enough composure to grab two forks from the utensils drawer and take them out to the living room where the two men sat and spoke.

“Here you go, Tommy,” you said sheepishly while trying to pretend that you weren’t avoiding eye contact. Turning to Joel you said, “I’m gonna head home.”

“You don’t have to leave ‘cus I’m here,” Tommy said, his apologetic tone emphasizing his indication. “I didn’t mean to impose or nothin’, it was… Just a surprise.”

“I gotta go shower and change my clothes anyways, so, uh…”

“Here, I’ll go help you get your things. I’ll be right back Tommy,” Joel said. You both walked up to Joel’s cluttered room where he shut the door softly and then apologized. “I forgot we picked up a job for today,” he explained.

“Well, I have been told I’m a pretty good distraction,” you teased, fumbling with last night’s clothes. He chuckled and watched as you got dressed, asking himself how it got to this point. “I probably can’t do anything until Sunday. My dad wants to take me to this new movie tomorrow, and then some event thingy Saturday.”

“Sunday, that’s…” Joel’s voice trailed off while he pretended to think about something.

You scoffed and narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before hitting his arm with his t-shirt. He caught hold of it and used it to bring you closer, the grin of a jester playing on his face.

“I’m kiddin’, princess. I know it’s your birthday,” he cooed against your lips. His kiss embraced your laughter and made him smile again, but this time much more humbly. “I got you a present—but if I give it t’ya now I’ll be empty-handed in two days.”

You cocked an eyebrow up and stared at his lips causing him to vapidly blush. “You won’t be empty-handed,” you whispered. You held his hand in yours and brought it next to your face.

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm, ‘cus I’ll make sure to keep both’a your hands busy,” you teased.

He watched carefully as you brought his index finger to your drooling mouth and took it in slowly. You somewhat forced his finger down your throat pretending it was his cock. You choked on the thick digit and pouted at him with your eyes.

He gasped at the textures of your narrow throat, frowning in a way that let you you’ve ignited something in him. He fought his moans harder than he ever needed to before, staring at you gag and slurp and slobber around his finger.

You curled your tongue against the webbing of his fingers and licked all of the excess spit up into your mouth with a swift bob of your head.

This made him bite his lip to shut himself up; you decided to not bully the poor man any longer and released his hand, smirking.

“You’re gonna regret that Sunday, princess. I’ll tell you that right now,” he threatened, however, his tone was full of defeat and his voice sounded higher from the strain of silencing moans.

“What are ya gonna do about it, old man?” You teased before walking out of his room.

Your birthday was more fun than you were expecting, more than enough people showed up (granted more than half of them were your dad’s friends), and you spent more time being the photographer than the center of attention.

Joel and Tommy showed up fashionably late (you’ve chosen to believe Joel’s watch is set two hours back). Meanwhile, their arrival earned a few giggles and stares from your high school friends.

They tried to talk to you about how much hotter Joel and Tommy had gotten while you pretended not to feel the pang of jealousy in your chest whenever they gawked at Joel a little too long.

They asked if you two had hooked up since being back and the only lie you managed to conjure was, “Joel’s either always at work or with my dad, so… I haven’t really been able to try.”

“Wait, does your dad know you two used to hook up?” One of your friends, Bri asked.

Right now you were really regretting telling all those lies…

“No,” you said almost too enthusiastically, “and I plan on keepin’ it that way. Not worth the trouble.”

“Well, if Joel’s not worth the trouble to you then you wouldn’t mind if I gave it a shot, would ya?”

You resisted rolling your eyes, wavering the drink in your hand around and mumbling, “Go ahead.”

“Hey,” another friend said after tapping you on your extended arm, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea. Joel’s just one guy.” She must have noticed the defeat in your eyes.

Maybe to you, you thought.

Before you could respond Bri was sitting back down at your patio table with an embarrassed pout on her face, and for some reason, you were surprised rather than happy (okay, you were a little happy).

“What happened?” You asked.

“He said he’s seeing someone else,” she scoffed. “Do you know if he even likes blondes? Because I can always dye my hair darker.”

You chuckled, “I don’t think he has a preference.”

The rest of them changed subjects so when your eyes went searching for Joel, you found him standing next to your dad at the grill where he was already looking at you wearing a smile. You smiled at him and then turned your focus back to your friends for the remainder of the afternoon.

Once your friends had left for the night and your dad ended up in a game of dice with his buddies, you realized you needed some time to decompress from all the socializing.

Your dad insisted on cleaning up for you the way you always did for him, so you made your way upstairs intending to lie down for a few minutes.

With your back facing the door as you flipped through a magazine Joel was able to sneak into your room; it was the lock clicking that scared you.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Joel!” You gasped while throwing your magazine at him.

He chuckled hoarsely and leaned against the wall with the doorknob sticking into his back.

“Could at least make a little more noise when you’re following me!”

“The more noise we make the quicker we get caught,” he spoke under his breath.

Your eyes were wide as you took the sight of him in; his skin was beautifully tanned from the Texas sun, his biceps straining against his almost too-small t-shirt, and his jeans hung a little lower than usual.

His glossy eyes lingered on yours as he watched you stand up and check him out. He saw the fear on your face morph into lust, increasing as you walked towards him.

“What’chu nervous for?” He teased after watching your hand fidget with your belly button ring.

You barely heard him, thoughts immersing into thoughts of all the things you wanted him to do to you. “Hmm?”

Even as you got closer to him your eyes couldn’t leave the imprints of his muscles effortlessly flexing against his shirt.

“You play with your piercing every time you get nervous,” he told you after you pressed your body against his.

Ignoring his statement, you stared at the shadow of his collarbone and the light layer of hair coating his chest.

“Look at me,” he cooed, yet you only did it for a second, fueling that same attitude he had at the bar.

He tapped underneath your chin more roughly than you liked, almost like a smack.

But when you looked at his face again you saw that darkness you knew you wanted it like that night again, despite your attempts at hiding it.

Joel could always see past your bullshit.

“You like when I’m mean to you, girl?” He asked. You opened your mouth, ready to omit, but he held a warning finger up. “Don’t. Do not lie to me.”

You swallowed the dryness in your mouth and batted your eyes at him before naively nodding your head. “Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t peg you for the mean type.”

His eyebrows raised in amusement, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “No? But you like it?”

“I fucking love it,” you whispered against his wet lips.

You didn’t need to decompress. You needed to unwind.

“I bet you did, rubbing that needy little pussy all over my leg when I was bruising you up all sweet and blue,” he bullied.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your breath left your body, remembering how good it felt for him to punish you. When you looked at him again you saw an egotistical smirk had plastered itself onto his face.

“Problem s’that you didn’t disobey me tonight, so how could I possibly punish you when you were being such a sweetheart? Sayin’ thank you after opening every one of your gifts and offerin’ to help out.“ His tone was sadistic, taunting…

“Well, it is my birthday…” You said grinning. A heat burned through the pit of your stomach and spilled into your panties. “…and no one’s given me my birthday spankings yet.”

He remained quiet opting to run his hands up your arms until they cradled your face, thumbs stroking your lips and cheeks.

“You gonna count ‘em for me?” He whispered without breaking eye contact.

You smirked and kissed him tenderly. “Yes, sir.”

He pointed at your bed where you went to bend over the edge for him.

His boots softly knocked against the hardwood floor as he paced behind you, pondering in his head how he wanted to proceed.

Despite the curiosity that made you want to turn around and ask him questions, you stayed still and quiet until he gave you your first instruction.

“Take your shorts off.”

You reached for the button and zipper before pushing the denim down until it met your knees on the floor. Your hips wiggling more than necessary.

“No panties?” He said amusedly. You heard his body move behind you so that he became eye level with your ass. “You must’a really wanted that present from me tonight, huh?”

You nodded your head and reached under your stomach, using both hands to spread yourself for him. “I’ve been touching myself all weekend thinking about it.”

Joel stifled a moan at the sight of the creamy precum that revealed itself between your swollen lips.

You flinched and yelped at the sudden feeling of his middle finger spreading your cum around your tight hole making him smile.

“Rub your clit f’me, baby,” he rasped.

Licking your lips you rested your head down on the bed before listening to him; your ring and middle fingers rubbed perfect loops on your bud while your pinkie finger kept your cunt spread for his eyes.

He glanced at your ass which was still marked from his abuse nights prior.

“My God, girl… These my bruises?” He asked wanting to hear your submission.

“No one else I’d let do this to me,” you breathed out.

His calloused hands gripped and massaged your butt for a few quiet moments until a firm smack landed on your left cheek.

His touch left your body as he anticipated a verbal response from you but it took too long for you to compose yourself.

You were just so fucking eager for his fingers to dance around your cunt that you made the mistake of forgetting the arrangement that occurred only two minutes prior.

“I don’t hear you countin’, girl,” he warned.

“Shit,” you whispered, “sorry—“

He interrupted you with another smack, only this one landed on your spread lips.

“Ah!” You yelped, quickly burying your face into your sheets. It stung ruthlessly. “One… And two…”

You couldn’t see it, but you felt the mean smirk on his face burning into the back of your skull. “Take too long t’answer me again… You get the rest on that pretty little pussy a’yours. Understand?”

Your knees braced into the floor as you nodded. “Yes, I understand, Joel.”

“Mm,” he hummed grumpily. “Good.”

Smack.

“Three,” you hissed.

Smack.

“Four…”

Smack!

The pain was starting to get to you in the best way possible.

You knew that for the next week anytime you would sit down on your bruised cheeks you’d remember how Joel took care of you in the way you wanted him to.

One spanking in exchange for one orgasm — that’s how you saw it anyway. He wasn’t into unnecessary punishment, but he went into this knowing he’d find a way to make it worth your while however you saw fit.

Joel only dominated you because you dominated him in every other aspect. When it came to sex he lived to serve you. So if 23 spankings is what you wanted, well then… What kind of man would he be to deny you of that?

By the end of the torture, you didn’t even want to think about sitting down for the next two weeks.

Joel saw your reflection in the mirror hanging from your closet, watching those red and puffy lips curl into a beautiful smile.

“Dunno how much longer we got, girl,” Joel grunted as he stood up. “Best make it quick.”

Your eyes softly close and you bite your lip, giggling and moaning at how his southern drawl sounded especially sexy tonight. He noticed how lazily you were acting and laughed.

“You already fucked stupid?” He said with a small smile.

You turned onto your back, hissing at the pressure on your ass but giggling again at his annoyed tone and pursed lips. “Hmm… Maybe.”

Joel opened his mouth to say something but you raised your feet to rub against the growing bulge in his worn jeans. He watched your bottom lip get stuck between your rows of teeth, shining a drunken smile at him.

“You wanna play around, girl?” He flirted, a crooked show of his grin sending chills throughout your body.

“Wanna feel you, deep…” You let out a strained moan, cunt gripping so tight around nothing your precum slid out.

His fingers slid to the bulky strap of his belt and pulled it from his waist so fast it ended with a snap.

“So pretty like this…” He whispered as he sprung his cock free from its restraints.

Your face warmed with blush and your nipples stiffened at the sight of his dick: so hard it only slightly curved to the right, with a red hot angry tip beaming with a thick droplet of precum.

He leveled with your body and slid into you slowly, not wanting to risk making you moan louder than the walls could handle.

“Need you to be quiet for me, baby,” he whispered, “can ya do that f’me?”

Your eyes were shut, lips still between your teeth as you hummed and mewled. You nodded, looping his curls around the webs of your fingers and legs around his soft waist.

A breathy grunt escaped his mouth. His breath hit just below your ear making your skin prickle with goosebumps.

As his hips softly crashed into yours you felt yourself tensing at the sound of people outside and downstairs. You’d managed to forget your father’s friends were still here, and any one of them could walk upstairs to use the restroom only to hear the soft squeak of your bed frame—your father could.

Joel was just so easy to get lost in. His scent, his pretty smile, his touch… The way his tongue lapped at your neck like a cat would milk. How his hands cradled your waist and thighs. When he’d move his head up just for a moment to look into your heavy eyes.

God, you were a fucking mess.

His cock slid effortlessly against your needy walls, pressing deeply into that perfect spot at an angle you’d never felt before. And fucking hell, you wanted to say his name shamelessly. Scream it and plaster it onto the fucking walls if you could.

You did everything in your power to keep quiet, struggling from how your bruised ass stung even more every time his body crashed into you.

Joel bit the meat on your shoulder to shut himself up. His body yearning to fill you up with his precious seed was almost distracting. Almost.

“Doin’ so good f’me, girl,” he whispered into your chest, the pace increasing. “Might need t’cum.”

“Joel,” you whined, not needing anything more. Your fingers tightened in his hair and your head was thrown back into the mess of your blankets.

The knot in your tummy twisted, curling tightly around itself. You let out too loud of a breath that turned into a moan, but nothing too incriminating.

“Do not make me have to pull out and stop, now,” he rasped before taking two fingers and shoving them into your desperately open mouth.

You choked at the surprise but settled down and bit at his knuckles.

His face pressed into one of your tits as another desperate attempt to keep quiet, but all he had to do was feel you cumming to finish himself. Joel’s cock was sensitive and overwhelmed, and despite his best efforts to keep going for the sake of satisfying you he just couldn’t fucking take it.

You pouted and tried to pull him back in after he slipped from inside you to no avail.

“M’sorry, princess,” he huffed, annoyed with himself. “Can’t handle you sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes but saw the disappointment on his face as he buckled his pants back up.

“Just sneak over tonight,” you flirted, “suck me dry.”

He smirked at your coy smile and slid your bottoms back onto your hips. “I’ll do what I can,” he promised.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, cowboy.”

It had been about a week since your birthday, and Joel did indeed sneak over to give you your well-deserved orgasm, give or take three more.

And his real birthday present was a small Eiffel Tower; he had remembered how you’d always wanted to visit Paris. While he wasn’t the most superstitious or spiritual man he said he’d hope it would bring you good luck with traveling for fashion.

Your dad on the other hand had been quite distant since that night and you wondered if he saw or maybe even heard something that gave your little secret away. Your dirty lies. Had they finally caught up to you?

Or were you just overthinking things? Maybe he’s just been moody or tired or in hermit mode. It could have been lots of things, right?

Needless to say, it was a shock when he called you downstairs as soon as you were done with your shower.

“Hey Dad, what’s up?” You asked as you entered the kitchen.

“You tell me,” he grumbled, eyeing you as you sat down.

“Ummm, the apocalypse is happening and flesh-eating monsters are taking over,” you answered sarcastically. When his facial expression didn’t even change in the slightest you stopped joking. “Uh, I…don’t know…”

“Whose shirt is this?”

A dull brown and red flannel was tossed onto the island and you just knew your face gave you away.

“Dad—“

“Don’t lie to me either,” he said between gritted teeth.

Your father already knew it was Joel’s, you knew that. But he always gave you the opportunity to take accountability for your actions. Not like it made him less mad, it just softened the blow.

“Where did you find it?” You asked, voice shaking.

“Yesterday,” he said after some hesitation, “you were at work for your last day. I was doin’ your laundry and there it was, as plain as day.”

You shut your eyes, a tear of embarrassment rolling down your cheek that you wiped away swiftly. “It’s Joel’s.”

“Why is it here?”

You looked at him with eyes that begged for him to not ask, but his face was hardened.

“Because Joel was here,” you reluctantly answered.

“When.”

“A… A few times.”

“Why?!”

The tension was suffocating; you figured you were already caught so you may as well admit to everything—well, not everything if you could help it.

“Because we’ve been seeing each other,” you said softly, leaning your forehead onto your hand. “Since I got back, we’ve been seeing each other. Sometimes I go there, sometimes he comes here.”

“Since you got back?”

You nodded and faced him again, fighting your tears. It wasn’t that you were sad or worried about what your dad may have done, you just wished you were more honest from the start.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I made the first move. I was trying to get over my boyfriend and… He was there… And it just sort of happened.“

“S’good thing you’re going back to New York soon.”

Your heart sank—had your dad forgotten when you said you were thinking of staying in Austin to stay close? Not just for Joel, but everybody. Your family, your friends, you wanted to be near when Sarah graduated. You missed life in Texas, too much to go back to New York State so soon.

“I—I told you I wanted to stay, that I was thinking of staying close,” you rambled, “did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t forget. You’re not allowed to see him anymore. You in New York makes sure that happens.”

“Wh—not allowed?!” You almost laughed. “I’m twenty-five, I make my own decisions.”

“He’s too old for you,” he said.

You scoffed, standing up. “I’m not some mentally incompetent eighteen-year-old, Dad. I’m a grown woman dating a grown man!”

“Not here! Not when you’re living in my house.”

“Well, then I will just fucking move out!”

You ignored his protests and calls for you, feeling like a grounded teenager all over again.

What you and Joel had was fickle, you knew that. You weren’t stupid. It wasn’t built on a foundation, it was hardly dating even though you wanted it to be more.

Your dad would come around someday. Hell, maybe he would have already had you been honest from the start.

“Hey, Sarah, is your dad home?” You stiffly asked.

She frowned at your puffy eyes and red nose, looking over her shoulder before saying, “Uh, n—no, but he’s just runnin’ a bit late from work. Why don’t you come in and wait for him? He should be back any minute.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t wanna impose. Just tell him to call me when he gets some free time, please?”

“You sure?”

You nodded, not necessarily trusting your voice anymore with how you were choking up from your tears.

Sarah’s shoulders dropped and she insisted you come in. “Come on, it’s starting to rain.”

After a moment of hesitation, you followed her inside after picking your bag up, wiping your nose, and clearing your throat.

Sarah was kind enough to bring you a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table and sitting down a couple of cushions away.

“Are you breaking up with my dad or something?” She asked after a minute or two.

“What?”

“He told me a couple days ago, but I already figured because I heard him talking to you on the phone a while ago. Something about missing you,” she explained.

“I’m sorry, Sarah, I…” You sighed and looked at your hands. “I wish I was there to tell you.”

“No, that’s okay! I think it’s kinda cool. A little weird, but cool.” She assured. “But are you? Breaking up with him, I mean.”

“No, well at least I hope not,” you chuckled softly. “My father isn’t a very forgiving man.”

“He just wants to protect you. My dad said that’s just what fathers do. I’m sure he’ll come around someday.”

“Thanks, Sarah.”

The lock clicks soon followed by the door creaking open; you and Sarah watch as Joel walks in with empty hands before he notices you sitting on his couch. A look of worry spread across his face.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Sarah chirped while standing up. “She just came by to see us.” Sarah walked into the kitchen to give you some privacy.

Joel sat next to you and gestured at the ground. “Why do you have a bag?”

“Oh, I’m just going to stay with a friend for a few days,” you said.

He nodded reluctantly, sensing your nervousness. “Your dad find out?”

A wave of sadness took over you again, but you managed your tears away better this time. You only offered a nod, nails picking at a loose thread on your jeans.

“Why don’t you stay the night? I was gonna make steak for dinner.”

“I—I don’t wanna… Impose.”

He chuckled. “What d’you mean impose? You’re my girlfriend.”

Letting out a surprised sound, you frowned and looked around the room incredulously while Joel just stared at you anxiously.

“Girlfriend?”

He shrugged, leaning his elbows onto his knees. “Well. You are my girlfriend, right?”

“You never asked,” you laughed.

His eyes were a mix of amusement and surprise. “My apologies, darlin’. Forgive me for not having been gentleman enough.” He takes your hand earning a laugh from you. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“You’re so sappy,” you teased before giving him a peck on the cheek. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

“I dunno what I’m gon’ do,” you said softly.

You and Joel had been in bed for a couple of hours just talking about everything, with Sarah sound asleep in her room; the three of you had watched one of Joel’s favorite movies and Sarah gave him a fixed watch.

You shifted up to rest on your elbow and looked down at him. “How much longer you think he’ll be mad?”

“I don’t know, princess,” he said after sucking his teeth. “He doesn’t tend to hold grudges but I know he’s more mad at me. F’it’s any consolation.”

You let out a weak chuckle and leaned down to kiss him. His hand cupped your jaw just firm enough to keep you still. Your lips tangled with his, fingers reaching up to clasp his curls; he climbed on top of you carefully, humming on the tip of your tongue.

He began to grind and hump eliciting moans from you both while his right hand got to work beneath your shirt, thumbing the nipple just enough to tickle you.

Your hand snaked between your bodies to find the opening of his boxers; you pulled his velvety cock out and pumped it gently whilst not bothering to touch yourself as your panties were already pooling.

Your heart ached with so much pain and at the same time so much love. You needed Joel. In every fucking way possible for as long as you’d be blessed to have him.

His lips broke free from yours to greet your neck, then your collarbone, before planting around your now exposed breast.

You exhaled at his warm tongue swirling saliva around your peaked bud, sending waves of shivers down your arching spine.

“Joel,” you whispered leaning into his gentle touch.

With a throbbing clit and a slippery cunt you felt weak beneath him. You were enamored with pleasure that it overtook your body. You couldn’t control your breathing or your trembling. Hand awkwardly shifting around his shaft.

He took your other nipple into his hot mouth, shirt bunched around your arching neck. With daunting hands he traced the hem of your panties, pulling at them carefully.

He sat on his knees to undress your legs, adjusting so his cock lined up with your entrance. He slid in slowly, knowing the lack of foreplay could ruin this.

But it didn’t.

Your walls burned with a stretch so delicious it set your skin on fire. It took everything in you to not moan as loudly as your body begged to.

A soft gasp only leaving your lips, your head lolling back, eyes clenching shut… Yeah. Joel knew how to fucking work you.

Your walls clung to him fearing even just a moment of loss. His eyes burned into your feverish skin, watching the rise and fall of your chest and stomach as you took in deep breaths.

“You feel so good,” he whispered into your collarbone, placing a sloppy kiss on it afterward. “I lo—“

A pause in his voice made your eyes fly open; his hips stuttered the same way his voice did signaling something was wrong.

Joel’s heart punched against yours, but he kept grinding into you like he hadn’t spoken at all. Oh, but all the worry was written in his eyes.

“Joel?” You softly asked between moans.

He took in the softness of your hands cradling his uneven stubble. He hummed and kissed the meat of your palm before biting it gently.

You fought the nerves in your voice. Everything inside your body screamed that this was wrong, yet as you looked into his eyes your heart swelled with admiration for the man that helped you find pieces of yourself again.

“I love you too,” you finally said.

He stopped moving his body against yours and he just stared at you. He was conflicted with whether or not you said that only because he almost did.

But when you said it again and tightened your legs around his waist to affirm it he gave you a gentle kiss, finding his tongue bumping into yours along the way. Pulling back, Joel finished his sentence.

“I love you.”

“You love me?” You teased.

But his face remained serious, eyes boring into yours.

After a few more silent seconds Joel laid his head into the curve of your neck and began riding into you again. Hips rolling into you, breath hitting your neck, and hands gripping the sheets.

Your body was hot as molten lava, melting into the mattress. Joel felt so safe, so beautifully safe. Safe enough to say, “I love you,” in his ear over and over again, his voice overlapping yours with the same words.

He took care of you that night. Letting you immerse yourself into enjoying every damn thing he gave you. His grunts staggered and turned into short hisses of pain as you bit into his shoulder to keep quiet. That’s what fueled him: the pain of your undying desire.

He reached deeper inside of you than he ever dared to before, reaching reaching reaching to find your soul and bear all commitment to it. To serve you, as his gravelly voice whispered, “I fucking live for you.”

“I love you, Joel,” you responded. “It’s you and me. Forever. Us against the world.” A tear made its way from your eye to his forehead.

He kissed the trail the tear left and repeated you. “Us against the world.”

It was just sex talk — usually is, but Joel always knew what words would just make you fucking cum. Those words dripped from his lips like a poisonous honey for you to lap up and savor.

He wanted you cumming all over his sheets cock to fucking mean something. To permeate his love anywhere it could stain.

Joel had started to cum just a second before you did, forcing him to let out a moan. You held his head to your chest while he cradled your back.

Your head buzzed the same way it would when you got high, only it felt better. Quieter. More immersive. Your back arched into his touch and the rolling of his hips kept you in that limbo. Not here nor there. You were right where you needed to be, whatever that fucking meant.

You managed to keep quiet a little better than him, giggling softly when he just plopped down onto you after you had both come down.

He stayed like that for a few minutes while you just stroked the curls by his ear, his other one listening to your heartbeat slow down.

“I’ll get ya cleaned up,” he cooed, and just as he finished dressing his phone began to ring. He just answered it as he walked to the bathroom, letting you rest some more. A few minutes later, he came back and wiped wherever you asked. “I gotta go help Tommy real quick with somethin’. W’ya stay here, keep an eye and ear out for Sarah?” He asked.

“Yeah, for sure. Be safe.”

You shared a kiss with him again before looking at the alarm clock on his nightstand. Shit. 11:32 PM.

“Joel?” He looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Happy Birthday,” you said with a smile.

“Thank you, princess.”

-

taglist: @paleidiot @sarap-77 @mmeereaa (cant tag) @ssweetart42

[fandomnsfw]

Take Me Dancing -

Stiles Stilinski x Plus size!Reader

(Because my boy can dance 😭...fuck)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Prompt:

Warning: Smut! Stiles got a obsession with asses! Because in my mind he’s an ass man or legs man!

Description: Malia made you buy a dress you aren’t so comfortable in...she’s taking yes as an answer only. Grin and bare it you guess...until you finally got the boy you like to notice you.

ENJOY!!!

**********

However before you could change Malia bust into your room without so much as a knock, looking you over with a satisfied smile. You shook your head, your eyes widening as she grabbed your arm.

However before you could change Malia bust into your room without so much as a knock, looking you over with a satisfied smile. You shook your head, your eyes widening as she grabbed your arm.

“Nope! I need to change!” You screamed dramatically as she dragged you out your room with ease, god damn werewolf strength, your size clearly didn’t faze the wolfs when they flung you around like you were a size 6.

“Nope you need to get in the nice expensive car Peter bribed my love with.” Malia deadpanned as she opened the passenger door to her car.

“Malia I look like a big red marshmallow!” You screamed childishly as she was wrapping the seatbelt over your body clearly not taking any chances with you running back into your house.

“Stop. You look sexy and if he doesn’t see that, find someone better. I heard that Brett has a thing for curvy girls.” Malia supplied and you rolled your eyes at her words like she was lying through her teeth.

“You mean fat?” You supplied bitterly and she shot you the deadliest glare she could muster, her eyes flashing at you in warning.

“Listen to me now woman you look so fucking good so when we get there you’re going to get a drink, then we’re going to dance and ignore everyone else? Okay?” She demanded as we started pulling up to the loft.

“Fine. I do love dancing… also does Derek know we’re using his loft this time?” You asked with a raised brow as you stared at the glowing light coming from the loft.

“It was his idea since he’s away he said we could use it as long as we cleaned up and replaced whatever gets broken.” Malia shrugged as she turned off the car.

You stepped out of the car, looking down at the red, long sleeved wrap dress that came to the middle of your thighs and your black heels with a sigh before taking a deep breath. You put on your best fake confidence and linked arms with Malia who was in a plain tight black dress.

The second you walked into the loft your eyes widened at the sight of all the bright lights flashing on the make shift dance floor, there was a make shift bar in the corner too making you cheer happily. You dragged Malia to the bar in desperate need of alcohol to loosen you up.

You ordered your favourite drink, taking a few heavy gulps, your throat burning as it went down and you finished the drink and looked at Malia with a wide grin as she laughed at your antics.

“Happiness, ain’t something you sit back and ya wait for.” Selena Gomez’s voice sounded through the speaker and your arm shot in the air happily.

You cheered happily as you dragged Malia to the dance floor swaying your hips as you went, the beat rippling through your body as the body’s mushed together dancing along to the beat.

You and Malia danced closely, resting your hands on each other as you danced, getting lost in the beat. You were enjoying dancing, it had been so long since you felt this free you were shocked when someone started dancing behind you, their hands on your hips but Malia just nodded so you went with it, not looking who is was.

You could feel they were tall, their muscles pressing against your back and your best guess was Brett which made you laugh softly as you danced, he was a friend so you had no problem with it and you were very single. However since you never looked back, scared you’d lose your nerve, you couldn’t confirm it was Brett.

You danced for the rest of the song pressed against Malia and the unknown guy behind you until the DJ announced he’d had a request from someone called Stiles and your eyes widened as Stiles came to the side of you glaring at the guy behind you making Malia chuckle.

“Don’t mind if I steal Y/N do you? Of course not.” Stiles stated sarcastically as he drug you away from, who you now saw was indeed, Brett who looked beyond amused by Stiles as he continued dancing with Malia.

As Jason Derulo’s Take You Dancing came on you raised a brow at Stiles who just shrugged as he took you hand with a suggestive brow wiggle as he did a little bow, making you giggle softly. He suddenly spun you outwards before bringing you back into his chest as started grinding your body together his leg slightly between you leg.

“When did you learn to dance?” You chuckled awkwardly as you felt you face heat up being this close to the man you liked so much.

“Last year when I was living in Washington. I went to a few clubs and I met an older woman who took pity on me. She taught me how to dance telling me it was a waste that I had such a pretty face. She was an old dance teacher.” He huffed shyly into your ear before pulling away at arms length encouraging you to dance for him.

You shook your head at his confidence but for some reason it only seemed to boost your own. Right now the boy of your affections is showing you attention whether it was only for tonight or not, you were going to enjoy it.

“Well you do have a very pretty face.” You agreed casually, a mischievous grin taking over your face.

“So does Brett.” Stiles muttered childishly but you caught it, his words instantly made you feel elated.

“I prefer yours.” You purred in his ear as you rolled your body against his, his hand tightening on your hip as he pulled you closer, his forehead rest against yours.

“Wanna get out of here?” Stiles whispered, his hot breath hitting your lips as he spoke causing your breath to stutter so you gave him a nod letting him know you wanted to.

He intertwined his fingers with yours, pulling you towards the loft door not caring who saw which shocked you but what shocked you more is he approached Scott his hand still in yours clearly not ashamed of you which made your eyes widen.

“Scott I’m leaving with Y/N can you get a lift off Lydia?” Stiles shouted from a respectable distance.

“Okay man. Use protection!” Scott shouted with a smirk and you flushed instantly.

“Fuck you Scotty! I know how to wrap up okay!?” Stiles shouted back his tone full of playful hate.

Stiles took out his car keys and dragged you to the elevator in the loft, pressing ground floor and as soon as the door closed you looked up at him and his eyes were flickering so quickly between your lips and eyes you lost track as he started bouncing in his spot like he always did when he was nervous.

“Fuck it.” He whispered before pinning you against the elevator wall his lips on yours, one of his hands cupping your cheek as his other rested on the wall at the side of your head.

He seemed hesitant to deepen the kiss so you ran your tongue along his bottom lip begging for entrance and he let out a husky groan, the sound going straight to your core. His lips were so soft and pliable it made you feel so confident and in control.

The elevator made a small rattle when it reached the bottom floor and you pushed him back, allowing your hands to drift down his abdomen as you pulled away. You walked out of the elevator swaying your hips as you went not stopping, even when your dress rode up your thighs, until you reached the jeep.

Stiles scrambled to unlock the vehicle opening the door for you, and you couldn’t help the smirk on your lips as you noticed his shell shocked expression. He practically ran to the drivers side of the jeep, hopping in the seat before slamming the door, his gaze drifting to you as he turned the keys starting the jeep up surprisingly easily.

“My p-place or yours?” He asked nervously earning a chuckle from you.

“Mine.” You answered easily knowing you didn’t have roommates or parents living with you so you’d be free to do what you wanted without worrying someone would be home soon.

He nodded shakily, his face flushing as he started driving towards your home barely 10 minutes from Derek’s loft. You were starting to lose your nerve as silence of the drive took over you, your anxiety spiking as you glance at Stiles’ jittery fingers drumming on the steering wheel of the jeep.

“If you’ve changed you mind you can just drop me at home and leave Stiles.” You offered softly and he looked at you in panic.

“Do you not wanna do this?” He ask in worry.

“Stiles I want to do this.” You snorted and he nodded suddenly relaxing against his seat as he pulled up outside your apartment block.

“I really wanna do this.” Stiles confirmed, making you smile at him happily.

Stiles got out the vehicle before running around to yours, opening it and holding out his hand for you. You took his offered hand and stepped out of the jeep gracefully. Stiles locked up roscoe with a nod before allowing you to drag him inside the build straight to the elevator.

You got out at the 3rd floor making your way to you apartment pulling Stiles with you, who had yet to say a word. You were nervous but you ignored it in favour for the excited feeling you had for having finally gotten Stiles’ attention. He was always too concerned with Lydia to notice anyone else at least until Malia but when that ended you were to scared to tell him how you felt, scared of rejection from this beautiful man.

You opened your apartment door, letting go of Stiles hand allowing him to come in at his own pace. However the second you closed you door his lips were on your again with more confidence this time, his tongue wrapping around your as he dominated every inch of your mouth. You moaned into his mouth, the sound clearly pleasing him because he let gripped your hair, that was tangled in his longer fingers, tightly.

He pulled away, his lips wet and swollen as he stared down at you with a look you’d never seen on him and you could swear he looked hungry. Your cheeks flushed as his hands tugged at your hair so you were looking up at him, not allowing you to look away from him as he pinned your gaze.

“This dress is sinful Y/N.” Stiles whispered darkly against your lips.

“It’s amazing what makeup and a short dress can do.” You chuckled jokingly but instead of a laugh he frowned softly.

“Let me rephrase that. YOU look sinful in that dress.” Stiles growled uncharacteristically assertive, as he started backing you up towards your bedroom.

“I’m seeing all kind of sides of you tonight Mr Stilinski.” You giggled as you slipped out of your heels once you’d reached your room.

“You have no idea baby.” Stiles growled playfully as he grabbed your ass, squeezing both globes with his hands earning a gasp from you.

“Then educate me Mr Stilinski.” You moaned softly, grinding against him teasingly.

“Hands and knee’s baby.” Stiles instructed with a smirk and you raised your brow challengingly before doing what he asked, crawling onto your bed before looking back at him over your shoulder.

“Good girl.” Stiles praised as he got onto the bed behind you, his hands sliding up your bare legs as he went until he got to the hem of your dress. He paused for a few seconds however before you could check on him a hand came straight down onto your thinly covered ass cheek making you jump slightly at the confidence Stiles wash clearly holding right now.

“Fuck you feel so good…” Stiles groaned as he clutched your hips, grinding his jean covered cock against your ass. You felt like he had all the control which was making you uneasy so you pushed back grinding your ass against him teasingly.

“You gonna fuck me or should I kick you out and do it myself?” You said with fake confidence as you looked back at him in a challenging way and his eyes darkened as they narrowed at you.

“Well I was gonna be nice and take my time but clearly you’re too impatient, huh baby?” Stiles taunted seductively, his hands tugging your dress over your ass exposing the thong you had on and all you could do was moan in response.

His hand came down onto your lace covered ass earning a louder groan of pleasure from you, pushing your ass against him once again. He moved back a little on the bed making you look over your shoulder to see his stripping off his t-shirt leaving you to stare at him and you wouldn’t be surprised if you were drooling as your eyes flickered up and down his body.

“Fuck…” You moaned as he started pulling his cock out of his jeans.

“I intend to kitten.” Stiles chuckled darkly, a smirk taking over his face as he took out a condom from his back pocket.

He tore the packet open with his teeth before slipping the condom onto his rock hard length with slow movements clearly knowing him touching himself was effecting you. He suddenly pulled down your lace panties down your thighs and instead of his cock his tongue was on you in seconds.

“Sh-Shit! S-Stiles!” You moaned as his tongue pushed into your wet entrance.

“Mmm you taste good baby.” Stiles groaned against your fold earning another moan from you.

Your breathing was beginning to quicken as as tried to resist pushing your pussy against his face. Your hands gripped the cover as below you your moans growing louder the more the coil in your stomach built up. stomach started building with every lick and nibble.

“One of these days I’m gonna have to have you sit on my face and ride my tongue.” Stiles teased as he pulled away as you were about to cum.

You wanted to complain about him pulling away but his words stopped you. That meant he wanted this to happen again and the thought of that turned you on even more especially when the imagine of sitting on Stiles face popped into your head.

“P-Please…” You pleaded breathlessly.

“Please what baby?” Stiles taunted as his right hand slid down your spine, pushing your head into the bed roughly.

“Please fuck my pussy Stiles…I need your cock.” You moaned desperately against the covers beneath your face.

“Such a good girl for asking no nicely.” Stiles praised into you ear before pulling away.

You felt the tip of his cock brush against your entrance and before he could slowly enter you you pushed back onto him, taking his full length the stretch leaving a burn but you reviled in it. You heard Stiles curse behind you so you looked behind you to see his eyes closed in ecstasy and the sight made you clench around his member.

“Well here’s me thinking you were a good girl…looks like I’ll have to punish you.” Stile growled as he bent over you body, his lips brushing against your ear as his cock pushed into you as deep as he could go.

“Bad girl.” Stiles whispered and if that wasn’t the dirtiest two words you’d ever heard in your life you didn’t now what was.

It effected you that much you came around his cock and he lost it, pounding into you so suddenly you let out a scream from the over sensitivity but he kept mercilessly fucking into you. His cock was bigger than the very little amount you’d seen and it made you feel full to the brim. He pulled back again too watch you fall apart beneath him.

His thrust started getting more frantic as you felt him sweep up bigger inside of you, knowing he was close you started pushing back against his cock meeting his thrusts, your ass bouncing off his hips. His eyes never left your ass, almost like he was mesmerised but what shocked you more was when he stopped thrusting to watch you continue you fast harsh bouncing on your ass.

“Fuck…your ass looks so good…that’s it baby finish me off…maybe I’ll let you cum again.” He moaned huskily, his eyes never leaving your ass.

You moaned at his words but started practically twerking on his dick like you were a needy porn star and Stiles couldn’t get enough of it. You felt yourself building for the second time but you held back until you finish Stiles.

His moans and grunts of pleasure filled your dark bedroom as you worked to finish him off. This was the hottest sex you’d had and honestly even if this ended up casual you thought maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

“Hey eyes on me kitten. I’m close…” He groaned demanding my and you obliged happily your y/e/c eyes boring into his amber ones.

“Cum for me Stiles…” You moaned dirtily as you sped up you hips, your eyes never leaving his as you did and then he threw his head back and let out the sexiest moan that sounded almost like a growl.

“F-Fuck.” He stuttered as he thrust into you desperately a few more times before coming to a stop.

When he started pulling out you figured that was it but suddenly he rolled you over and started eating your pussy like it was his favourite snack. Spreading your lips, he licked and sucked at your clit, making your legs shake as you came closer to your end.

Two of his fingers were thrust inside of you before you could even comprehend what was happening, curling up to press against that special spot. Your toes scrunched up and he starting moving his finger across that spot as he tongue sucked on your clit and you came with the loudest noise you ever made as you felt liquid literally gush out of you.

“Stiles! Fuck I’m still cumming!” You cried out as he continued thrusting and sucking.

“Shit…I was gonna finish you off and then cuddle but now I’m thinking I wanna do that again as you finally stopped cumming.

“Y-You’re gonna have t-to give me a minute Stiles.” You stuttered as you tried to stop you body twitching.

“Fuck I’ve n-never cum that hard in my life.” You whimpered your mind drifting.

“Baby you didn’t just cum you fucking squirted. I thought that shit only happened in porn. Yeah no can’t wait sorry babe.” Stiles exclaimed darkly as he delved back down and started back up his finger back inside of you rubbing at that spot all over again.

******

After two more times cumming Stiles fucked you again and it must’ve been about three in the morning when you finally both collapsed from exhaustion. He laid next you staring at the ceiling as you did the same, his breathing coming out in puffs of hot air.

“Best…” Stiles huffed out, his heart racing still.

“Sex…” He added his voice rough from the hours you’d spent in your bedroom.

“Ever…” He finished with a satisfied grin and you couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Yes it was…very surprising considering I’m not a petite red head.” You joked and Stiles didn’t seem to like that because he frowned at you.

“I wanted YOU not HER. Otherwise I’d of shown HER my improved dancing skills however I didn’t I came to YOU. Because watching Bretts hands all over you was torture and if he wasn’t a giant meat head wolf I’d of punched him for touching you— He sat up to look down at you, showing you everything he was saying was the truth and you couldn’t believe what was happening…Stiles…the man you have wanted for so long…is confessing to you.

—I’ve liked you for a long time Y/N and I never made a move because I figured someone so sexy and full of sass would want someone like Derek Hale or Brett Talbot…a manly big man who can sling you around…not some skinny hyperactive boy that has little experience with girls and even less with women.” He stated seriously and you sat up to look him in the eyes.

“I like you too…I have for a while tonight was about either getting your attention or moving on for good…” You replied softly and his eyes widened.

“You had my attention already…I wish I’d said something sooner…” He whispered sadly and you shook your head.

“This was the perfect moment. We both felt ready enough to make those moves and we finally pulled our fingers out…well you did.” You jokes at the end and he started laughing as he pulled you into a kiss.

“You know people are gonna call you names if you’re seen with me…I’m a big girl Stiles…” You stated sadly as he pulled away.

“No you’re perfect. Plus real men like a little cushion for the pushing baby. Ask Hale he’s always staring at your ass, fucking just as creepy as his uncle sometimes.” Stiles snorted as his eyes narrowed at the mention of Derek.

“One, cushion for the pushing really? That saying is outdated and some people take offence and two, Derek? Really? Hmm strange I never noticed.” You mumbled sceptically.

“Yeah well if he does it again I’m gonna rip HIS throat out with MY lovely human teeth.” Stiles grumbled against your neck, nibbling on yours neck as if to prove it somehow and the though made you chuckle.

“So possessive MR Stilinski.” You gasped playfully.

“Damn right. You’re my woman.” Stiles growled before he started sucking on the skin under your ear.

“I like the sound of that…but you know what I like the sound of more?” You moaned softly.

“What’s that baby?” He asked, his voice full of dirty promises.

“The sound of you fucking me.” You purred seductively making Stiles jump into action. This night couldn’t of been more perfect.

[exitrowiron]

As a self taught entry level shade tree mechanic, I try to follow the Hippocratic Oath - ie I may not fix the problem but I try not to make it worse. I try to avoid the worst case scenario of calling a tow truck to retrieve a car I was unable to return to drivable condition.

Today's project started with replacing the oil, an easy task made even easier (and cleaner) by using an oil drain plug that connects to a small drain hose.

The next project was more challenging. The car has been making a thunking noise from the right suspension when going over bumps at low speed. I thought it might be the swaybar link. The parts for the right and left were only $12 each so I figured it was low risk.

The original OEM parts were definitely worn out and I installed the new parts correctly, but unfortunately it didn't fix the problem. The next most likely culprit is the strut or strut mounts (the sway bar bushings looked fine) but struts are above my pay grade so it looks like I will have to go to the dealer after all.

[trancylovecraft]

(KNY) YANDERE PLATONIC! KOKUSHIBO x SISTER READER: You, Shibou. I, Kokoro (CHAPTER TEN)

Previous Chapter ☆♡☆ Masterlist ☆♡☆ Next Chapter

AO3 link

CHAPTER TEN: "I witness that a lot of people are dying because they consider that life is not worth living."

NOTE: Next chapter WILL be late due to me going on vacay! Juuuust wanted to get a chap out before I go lol!

Thanatophobia is the fear of death, Originating from the Greek "Thanatos" meaning death. People who suffer from this are extremely afraid of death and may have excessive thoughts about it.

This coupled with something like Suicidal Desire can create a reckless sort of behaviour. Making a person actively seek their death due to the fact they cannot do it themselves out of fear.

The smell of burnt gunpowder lingered in the cold night's air, Bursts of vivid colour exploding in the sky and fizzling out into sparks mid-flight. The entire sky was alight with hue's of reds, blues and purples lighting up the atmosphere.

The bitter liquor ran down her throat yet it barely burned as it went down, Her tongue trained to the taste and the fire tamed in due time.

[F/N] gazed out over the city of Osaka from the balcony of her inn. The festival in full swing below her, The sounds of laughing and festivities were low and echoed from the tall height their room sat at.

She gazed upon the fireworks, Enraptured within the colourful dance as she took another swig of her sake. A bottle she snaked from the bar below, Her hands trained to steal took it with relative ease and replaced it with the coins it cost.

It wasn't something meant for someone of her age. Her younger frame and the baby fat only just burned off from her face showed her mid-teenage years, Only around fifteen to be precise.

The night was chilling, Making her tug the dragon-patterned haori over her shoulders just a little more. The wind ran through her, The height she was at made it blow just a bit more intense as the mouth of the bottle pressed against her lips.

As the next round of sake pooled on her tongue, [F/N] could hear the soft patter of footsteps approach from behind her.

"Heyy~! What'cha doin up so early?" Mitsuri teased, Her bodyweight pressing up against the balcony railing to match [F/N]'s own pose. Her cheeks full of colour and a wide smile shining brighter than her eyes played on her face.

[F/N] smirked a little as she lowered the bottle.

"Can't sleep.. Not with this noise anyways." [F/N] responded as she gestured to the lively crowds below them in the streets, The stalls packed and laughing echoed from the tall buildings.

"Still, We're gonna head out soon and you haven't gotten any rest.. This isn't the first time you've done this y'know!" Mitsuri teased as she slowly swayed back and forth with a hum.

[F/N] shrugged as her eyes met Mitsuri's form. Her unbrushed hair let loose out of her usual braids and the baggy uniform she wore was lazily put on, Obviously haven just woken up from her nap during the day.

Even so she seemed as lively as she always did. Something that made [F/N]'s smile soften, Seeming much more genuine than it did before.

"Okay, Mom." [F/N] teased lightly as she turned back to take another swig "If I get a chance I'll rest for a little bit, Okay?"

Mitsuri's eyes landed on the glass bottle, Watching the bitter liquid slosh around inside the container as another rush of it entered her mouth. Mitsuri couldn't help the slight frown appear on her face.

"You know you shouldn't be drinking that stuff, Mama says it's really bad for kids like us. Even then I can't believe you like the taste, The stuff's yucky!" Mitsuri stuck her tongue out in a display of playful disgust.

[F/N] giggled a little bit as she swallowed, Covering her mouth to make sure it didn't bring up any residue.

"Tsuri', We watched your mother pick a fight barehanded with a wild racoon for rummaging in your trash." [F/N] chuckled as she shook her head. "I think I know what's good for me, Mkay?"

"If you say so!" Mitsuri huffed yet the smile tugging at her lips couldn't be extinguished.

[F/N] turned her eyes back to the display of fireworks exploding further ahead into the city, Bursts of burning sparks igniting into the most beautiful colours to reflect in their eyes. The glassy look of her sclera mimicking it greatly.

[F/N] smirked.

"..Besides, It's not the taste I like." She admitted as her eyes trailed down to the bottle held like a gun in her hands. Tightly gripped with care as she examined the clear yet pungent smelling booze mixing with the fading gunpowder.

"Then what do you like about it?" Mitsuri asked as she pursed her lips and looked at [F/N] in confusion.

"It's the affect it gives me, It makes me feel warm inside. That's what I like about it." [F/N] smiled half-heartedly as she rested her free palm on her chest. The spoken effect already starting to take affect as she felt the light blur in her mind.

"Seriously? You always wake up grumpy afterwards though, Can't make you feel that good." Mitsuri rebutted, Her lip quirked to the side in confusion.

"Not if I drink more." [F/N] shrugged as she took another drink, Eyes still trapped upon the fireworks and the city set alight in celebration. She didn't even seem to take in Mitsuri's words but instead took in more of the bitter liquor into her system.

Mitsuri looked like she wanted to say more, To open her mouth and object but she resisted in turn.

Instead she just turned her head back to the show above them, Wind brushing through her hair and leaving only the faintest of chills in it's wake.

"Anything else you been thinking about? You seem out of it, Kinda.. Distant?" Mitsuri asked. Recalling the past few days they had been travelling, Noticing the way [F/N] always seemed to be in thought when they spoke.

"Well.. A few things honestly, Nothing much really just kinda complicated thoughts" She sighed half-heartedly though her eyes narrowed in on nothing in particular, Nothing in sight but a picture vivid in her head.

"You can tell me if you want to, There's nothing I won't understand. You know that right?" Mitsuri reassured softly. A comforting tone both tended to use with one and other, All since the day they first met.

[F/N] shrugged once more yet this time she bit her lip.

"Really?" She prompted as she stared into the honest green of her best friend's eyes. The way the fireworks bursting hues reflected off them as they exploded in the air only shown truth.

"Really." Mitsuri hummed with a gentle smile with [F/N] returning it in kind. [F/N] inhaled, Taking in a deep breath before she spoke.

"…I'm just not that motivated lately. I've been thinking about my purpose to be honest with you.. Life stuff. It just kinda feels like I'm having a mid-life crisis when I'm only fifteen and that just feels really stupid to me.." [F/N] admitted as she played with the bottle.

Between the two girls it was [F/N] who had always been the mature one. Ever since they met it had been like that. She often abstained from activities other kids liked to enjoy such as playing with Temari Balls or wrestling in the mud.

Instead she often stood back and watched. Most times with either a book or a pen and paper, Mostly favouring her time being spent on wondering how much money she needed to earn for dinner that night or how long she could go without eating at all.

[F/N] never really was much of a kid. More of an adult in a kid's body, Carried herself as such too. Even back then she never cracked a smile or laughed at all, Instead speaking with a polite yet monotonous tone.

Mitsuri hummed, Tasting [F/N]'s words on her tongue.

"Well you came along with me to become a slayer for a reason, Right? We're doing this because we wanna help people and protect the ones we care about!" Mitsuri proclaimed as she lightly swayed back and forth.

"..Well.. And maaaybe help me find a husband too but.." Mitsuri added on quickly, Her blush burning bright as she fanned her cheeks.

[F/N] didn't speak, Instead choosing to look down at the bottle. She examined the light reflecting off the polished and sharply cut glass as her eyes narrowed at it.

"..You've been doing that a lot as well. You keep looking at your drinks and food like you personally despise them, It's weird. I'm maybe starting to think this is a deeper issue?" Mitsuri prodded.

As soon as she mentioned the way [F/N] was looking at her liquor her gaze instantly softened and glanced away from it, Away in the other direction as she pouted slightly.

"It's nothing. I'm fine, Really. I don't know why I told you, I shouldn't of said anything.." [F/N] trailed off, Shaking her head in dismissal.

The burn in her chest seemed like it just wasn't from the liquor anymore. It was desire, One she couldn't act on. How dearly she wanted to tell her the truth, Let it all out to her but there were no words to say.

There were, But there wasn't at the same time. How can you just say all of that to someone? How could you say it without writing it down on paper to log everything, Saying it is so difficult. There was no way she could say anything aloud.

Besides, [F/N] didn't want to worry Mitsuri. She was her best friend and bringing her own sorrow onto her was the last thing [F/N] wanted to do. Mitsuri was a happy person and [F/N] wanted to keep it that way.

She agreed with this once she turned back to meet Mitsuri's concerned face, As such she decided to act quickly.

Reaching into the small satchel hanging loose from her shoulders she fished out something covered in cloth. The navy felt wrapped around it dropped from the her grasp as she pulled it out.

"Besides.. I've got other things to worry about right now." [F/N] said as she held the Kitsune mask in both of her hands. The dark sapphire eyes staring right into the irises of it's owner with a soulless glare.

Mitsuri's eyes widened in interest as she nudged closer on the balcony towards [F/N]. Eyes locked onto the festival mask held so tightly in [F/N]'s palms.

"Woah, No way! Isn't that the spooky-cursed-thingy you got a while back?" Mitsuri gasped as she leaned over to examine the structure of it herself. Chartreuse eyes gleaming with a spark of interest as she recognised it.

"Mhm.. Took the sword with me so I felt it was only right I'd take the mask too.." [F/N] replied as she stared into the porcelain.

"Ah, Okay! You ever gonna try it out or use it? It might be a good time to use it cause of the festival and all- Oh my gosh that reminds me! Did you see all the snack vendors and festival games? I'm dying to try them all!" Mitsuri squealed as she rapidly fanned her overheating cheeks.

Her short attention span distracted her from the previous topic, Good, It was something [F/N] predicted and something that was for the best. [F/N] smiled and shook her head as she put the mask back into the satchel.

As for it, [F/N] was conflicted on whether to use it or not. The way it made her feel or the way it made her look just didn't seem like her at all, It made her different, Someone she wasn't yet even then [F/N] kind of preferred it that way.

For the short time she used it before she felt more carefree. Less people asked questions about her and less worried, It was good. [F/N] liked that.

"We can't waste time with the activities there, Mitsuri. We're here to slay a demon, Not relax or play games." [F/N] argued softly as she placed a hand on Mitsuri's shoulder, Who was currently.

"Oh come onnnnn, [F/N]. Live life a little! They have goldfish scooping and are doing one of those shinto-play thingy's that you like so much! Can't we have just a tiny little detour?" Mitsuri pouted as she quickly pulled out a brochure from her taffy-coloured haori and shoved into [F/N]'s free hand.

[F/N] chuckled but still stood adamantly as she looked down at the brochure.

"I told you! We can't waste time with meaningless activities!" [F/N] laughed as she rubbed Mitsuri's shoulder to try and calm her down, Which was useless because Mitsuri was practically shaking in excitement.

"Come onnn! Not even just a single goldfish?" Mitsuri pouted, Tilting her head towards [F/N].

"Nope." [F/N] replied.

"Please?"

"No."

"Pleaaaaseee?"

"Noooooo…"

"Please with extra cherries?"

"I hate cherries."

"Liar! You love cherries."

"I love the smell, Not the taste."

"I don't think I can be friends with you after learning that information but pleaaasee?"

"Nada."

"Plea-"

"If you two keep arguing like this I fear that we may never slay that demon in time!" The voice of Shinobu cut through the two's bickering.

[F/N]'s shoulders raised as she snapped her body round to meet the other girl, Who was to the other side of her and leaning against the balcony.

"Ah! Sorry Shinobu-chan! But you agree that you would also like to see the festival too right?" Mitsuri butted in, Leaning over the side of the balcony to meet Shinobu's constant grin and teasing façade.

Shinobu hummed, Bringing a hand up to her chin.

"Well I do think that we should slay the demon. But I suppose it wouldn't hurt if we did spend a little time enjoying ourselves. These things only come around once a year so if we slay the demon quickly we might have time to see the parade." Shinobu concluded with a smile as she turned around to meet Mitsuri.

"Oh not you too, Shinobu-san.." [F/N] dramatically groaned. Shoulders deflating as she realised she was outnumbered by her comrades.

"Yay! Come on then! Let's go slay the demon so I can catch goldfish. Let's go, Let's go, Let's go!" Mitsuri cheered as her hands lunged for both [F/N] and Shinobu's palms. Taken off guard they were both lugged along by Mitsuri's inhuman strength.

"Agh!" [F/N] exclaimed, Taken by surprise as she was swiftly dragged along out of the inn's room.

"Oh good! Let's get moving, Girls!" Shinobu however kept smiling as she complied with Mitsuri's hyperactivity, Giggling along with Mitsuri as they ran out. The cold night's air barely bothering the two.

[F/N] wiped the sweat off her brow and sighed. Keeping up with the two's more upbeat behaviour has always been a job of it's own.

Though as the saying goes that if you choose a job that you like, You'll never have to work a day in your life which [F/N] could attest to.

She only smiled a little as they ran towards their next mission. Hand being tugged along by Mitsuri as she thought on her own. Even though the two had enough energy for a hundred people, [F/N] could still feel the phantom taste of the bitter sake on her tongue wear her down.

Though she could admit she was having fun she also had to say that it was dampened by her own feelings. The feelings she had been fighting against for a while now and ones that seemed to get even more pungent everyday.

But it didn't matter. She had a job to do, Work is to be done so she shut out her feelings once more and smiled instead.

It seemed like it was better that way, Anyways.

☆♡☆

"Well.. I certainly see what you meant by hopeless"

[F/N]'s voice echoed far, Her own realising tone reflecting back at her in a yell. Her eyes were wide as she stared over the cavern, Hands on her hips as her jaw was lain slack at the sight.

It was huge, So much so that she couldn't see the bottom. Stairs and doors getting smaller and smaller as it went down, All until it was only a speck in this accursed dimensions horizon. The fact that it had a horizon like the normal world was terrifying.

There was a strong wind rushing through the cavern, It was fresh too, Not like the indoor air but organic and powerful.

[F/N] stood at the edge of a dock. The end of it was destroyed or rather fell off down into the cavern below.

It was like tectonic plates moving away from each other. One of them was the sea of nothingness with docks spread everywhere, The other was a a labyrinth of doors, walls, staircases and millions of other structures. The two only separated by a wide split, One which was further than valleys or fields she'd ever seen before.

They were like files kept in a drawer. Different files archived on top of each other, Different worlds sat side by side. Herself standing on only one of what seemed to be millions.

It was so surreal, [F/N] was basically a speck of dust compared to the Infinity castle. She had to steady herself on the dock to make sure she didn't fall off into the infinite expansion of a pit below.

"You understand that you won't be able to escape from here? If you tried to jump down it would take hours for you to fall only to be killed. And there's no way you could climb upwards because there isn't any point for you to scale on." Akaza said, His voice echoing and repeating back to her tenfold.

[F/N]'s eyes however weren't resting on the demon stood beside her, Instead they were sat on the abyss of architecture below as she contemplated her next move. Her eyes wandered along the wide wooden border keeping the ocean in at her world, Her brows furrowed.

"How was I not able to come across this earlier? You know, When I ran for the first time. It just looped back around." [F/N] commented absentmindedly as she locked down on the rimmed gate keeping the entire pocket of abyss she was in.

Akaza shrugged.

"This is the only route that hasn't been changed by the biwa demon throughout my time coming here. Figured that this must have some kind of anchoring effect or something.." Akaza replied but he sounded just as confused as she did.

[F/N] sighed as she ignored the implications of his significant memory, Already accepting it through all the other craziness.

"Alright.. So I also need to memorize the escape route. There's another thing to add to my list." She groaned in slight irritation as she took a mental note of the chore.

"You have a list?" Akaza questioned, Looking over at her with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Erm.. Yeah. Got an issue with that?" [F/N] hissed lowly as she looked back at him with an equally-as-venomous glare.

"No. You do whatever, I don't give a shit" Akaza spat back and shook his head as he turned around to look down the cavern again.

[F/N] did the same as she stared down into the new void. She could almost hear the cogs in her head clash and clank against each other as they got to work. Hopeless, Akaza said. The cogs seemed to ignite the lightbulb that hung over her head.

"Hmm.." [F/N] hummed as she surveyed the unnaturally polished wood. The wind repeatedly hit at her face, The skirt of her kimono whipping back and forth as she nudged closer to the edge.

"Hey! What are you doing, You have a death wish or something?" Akaza scolded, His hand grappling onto her shoulder with his nails digging in. Yet the pain never bothered her as she turned back to look at him.

"So.. You said earlier that there was an exit door somewhere down in that hellhole, Right?" [F/N] questioned as she started to tug at her kimono, The front of it easily coming undone as she shook Akaza's hand off.

"Yeah, There is but you won't be able to get to it." Akaza rebutted as he watched her take off the emerald sunset of fabric, The garment too big and loose for what she was about to do and leaving her in only a snow white Susuyoke and Hadajuban. "What the hell are you undressing for?! Try have some decency!"

"Lost that years ago. Now you mentioned that the biwa demon character moves the castle around to her will, Correct? If that's true then how often does she change it around here?" [F/N] asked once more, Near shouting over the power of the wind as she did.

"She only started changing the shrine section assumedly once you showed up but the docks don't change. We're near the outskirts of the castle and away from the centre, Doesn't change anything near here but why? What are you planning to do?!" Akaza argued as he watched her stretch out a hand and present it to him.

"I'm gonna see what's below, For that I need you to hold onto me while I hang from the side of the ledge." [F/N] explained, Nudging her hand further towards him as she stared him dead in the eyes.

Akaza's jaw dropped open, It was the last thing he had expected to hear from the rather weak looking girl as he gawked at the mere idea she proposed. He double-taked before taking a heavy step towards her, Making the dock below it creak rather aggressively.

"No. Are you fucking crazy?! What the hell makes you think that'll get you anywhere?!" Akaza near yelled at her as he got up in her face again. His sharpish teeth were bared and near breathing saliva at just the thought.

[F/N]'s nose scrunched up and her lip turned into a near snarl.

"I don't see why you're so angry, Akaza. I just want to see what's under here and I want you to help me do it." [F/N] argued lowly as she levelled down to meet his kanji-adorned eyes, Her own shining with the exact same fire to match his perfectly.

"Why I'm angry? Forget that, Why the hell do you trust me so much to keep you steady from the ledge? What if I drop you?!" Akaza argued back, A clawed finger pointing into [F/N]'s chest to emphasise his point.

"I don't trust you, I trust that you want to kill Kokushibo.. Well, That and your demon strength that can hold my weight, That is." [F/N] replied as she carelessly tossed her shamrock coloured kimono behind her down the dock.

Akaza moved back a few steps, Looking at her like she was insane but at this point that wasn't much of a stretch. He looked her up and down and once he realised she had no doubts about putting herself into a potentially fatal situation, He snapped his jaw shut and stared at her with wide eyes.

[F/N] on the other hand pushed it further towards Akaza, Urging him to take it.

"Come on, As I told you Akaza, I'm a Hashira. And as much as that title doesn't fit me I can say with certainty that I'll be able to scale this stupid ledge, So take my hand and lets do this." [F/N] pressed on.

Akaza looked back up at her expression, Of which was as cold as steel and as firm as such too. She looked at him with such chilling determination that it near ran a shiver down his spine, A feeling he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Fine, But we need to be quick. Upper six might figure out we've left and could alert Upper one." Akaza spat as he wrapped his taloned fingers around [F/N]'s palm and nodded. [F/N] in turn smirked slightly.

"I'll be as quick as I can be." [F/N] agreed as she lowered down onto her knees, Akaza's hand still squeezing her palm as she got down onto her backside.

[F/N]'s legs dangled off the edge of the rickety dock. She stared down towards the endless abyss of Japanese architecture below and took a deep breath in to steel her nerves, Her empty hand gripping onto the end of the dock while the other gripped tightly onto Akaza's.

"Ready?" Akaza prompted. [F/N] responded with a sharp inhale and a hum of confirmation. Closing her eyes she took in one large breath.

And then she dropped.

[F/N] fell from the ledge, Gravity pulling her body towards the ground as her weight started to accelerate. The wind rushed through her hair and her undergarments, Her eyes clasped shut in anticipation.

THUMP!

[F/N]'s body slammed against the side of the ledge, Making her yelp out in surprise. Her acceleration was cancelled out by the firm grip of Akaza who was draped over the side, Making it so she could be further down.

"Good gods-..!" [F/N] exclaimed in pain as her body hit against the ledge. Her skin firing up in pain as her body swung side to side slowly, Only kept elevated by the claws digging into her hand.

"I thought you said you were ready?" Akaza called out from above her, Though [F/N] could hear the mockery dripping from his tone like the water leaking over the ledge. It made her huff in annoyance.

"Shut it!" [F/N] yelled back as she gripped a hand onto the carved side of the edge, Trying to steady her swaying movements and her rapidly pounding heart. Her breath turned to vapour in the rushing chill of the winds.

[F/N] dared to look down from her position and saw the infinite abyss much closer than it was before, [F/N] watched her legs hang above it. It was almost like the entire castle was trying to reach out to her, Aching, Desperately trying to pull her down and make her fall.

Fall. If she did then that was it for her, If Akaza's grip slipped from her hold then she would be nothing but smashed organs and flesh. Destroyed bits of membrane smeared across some demon's flooring.

[F/N] could tell that the saying was true, Stare into the abyss and it will stare back. It felt almost alive as she glared.

"Hey? Aren't you going to get to work? I told you to hurry up!" Akaza scolded as he saw her phased out expression as she gazed into the castle interior below, But he raised a brow at her sudden disassociation.

[F/N] quirked a lip, Her free hand sweeping the hair hitting her face away from her vision. She could barely hear Akaza over the turbulence, Both of the aggressive atmosphere and the thoughts coming back to her head.

Drop. It would be so easy, So why was she hesitating? Why was her body still holding onto Akaza for dear life? It seemed like that's how it's been lately, Her body and her mind had different ideas for their future. Conflicting each other, Going to war.

Her body ached for survival, Some kind of primal instinct embedded into every single living thing on the planet and one her mind wanted to erase entirely. Her mind ached for release, Wanting an end to the tunnel.

The grip on Akaza's hand started to.. Slip. At first it was just a twitch of her palm, But then it was the lift of a single finger. Then another, Then another.. Then just one more until she'd start to fall-

"Gods! You are weak! I can't believe your a damned Hashira!" Akaza yelled out and his free hand shot out and grappled onto her wrist, Stopping her descent entirely. His teeth were bared and his forehead had a vein popping out.

[F/N] blinked once, A sudden dim light reappearing back in her eyes. She looked around once, Realising where she was and what she was doing before the tight grip on Akaza's hand returned once more.

"Shit.. My bad, I don't know what came over me there!" [F/N] called out as she bit her lip in confusion. [F/N] looked up towards Akaza and nodded once towards him. He wouldn't let her fall, Not when she was considered valuable to him.

"Lower me!" She yelled.

Akaza looked back at her, Examining the expression that seemed more reeled into the situation before nodding back. He moved a little further over the side, Legs kept firmly locked into a nook in the dock as [F/N] lowered down a little more.

She snapped her head round dead centre. The ledge she was hanging over was gigantic, Extremely, It was both taller and wider than her herself. But as Akaza lowered her further and further, Her sandals near slipping off her feet she could now see the underside of it.

Her eyes widened as she saw the vast beneath of the slice of hell she lived on. Her eyes scattered around and the dim light started to burn with idea's, The cogs in her head kicking up once more.

The way the underside was designed was like a table, It seemed larger than it was on the outside but when she looked underneath it dipped.

Below it had quite intricately designed structure beams going across the entire way, Thee way the architecture was ingrained into the beams made them tightly pact with hooks and curves carved in.

[F/N]'s eyes squinted, Trying to see further ahead. It was around the staggering length of a football field, At the end of it there was several pillars and clusters of misplaced walls and structures. They were all clumped together, Making it almost a staircase for her to use.

It was beautifully made, But also an opportunity. [F/N]'s eyes ran across the carvings and infrastructure as a sly smirk started to shape her face. The cogs finally clicked, The lightbulb brightened.

"What are you seeing?" Akaza called out from above as she surveyed the scene, Near seeing the mechanics work in her head as he watched her face light up.

"Opportunity, And I've seen enough. Pull me back up!" [F/N] yelled back, Glancing at him once with that working gaze before he nodded.

Locking his legs further onto the dock he started to haul her up with relative ease. Her body weight was nothing but a feather for his demonic strength as she ascended, Higher and higher until her upper chest was draped over the ledge.

Akaza grabbed her by the shoulders, Hoisting her full body over and up onto the dock once more. She groaned in effort as she rolled over onto her back, Staring up to the dark sky above them as she rendered the shrine section.

"Thanks.." [F/N] breathed heavily, Out of breath from both the high stress situation and the effort she had to put in to pull herself up. She lain there on the old and freezing dock, Listening to the sound of the waves as she tried to calm down.

Akaza on the other hand leaned over her, Looking at her like a rather irritating rodent who washed up on the shore. He clicked his tongue once as his annoyed visage bore into hers.

"The hell was up with that earlier? You almost died and all of this trouble I've gone through could've been for nothing!" Akaza hissed as he watched her haul herself up into a sitting position.

"I told you. Dunno what came over me, Alright?" [F/N] said absentmindedly "Anyways, Contrary to what you said earlier it is certainly not hopeless." She added on.

Akaza raised a brow. From what he had learned throughout his years of coming here there wasn't any visible way down from here. The outskirts haven't changed in decades, Could he have missed something?

[F/N] got up from the ground. Pushing herself up with a single hand and a groan as she raised to meet him eye to eye.

"Anyways I know what I need to do now, Well both me and you really. I actually need you to get some stuff for me." [F/N] said as she dusted off the dock's soot from her snowy underclothing.

Akaza groaned.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"A few things.. Maybe.. Uh.. Oh right. As much rope as you can get me, The strong kind. A surplus of nails and erm.. Could use a few tools too, A hammer might be nice.. Just anything you can get me" [F/N] explained as she counted the items on her fingers.

Akaza's jaw dropped, Realising the implications as his head shook in slight disbelief.

"You want to scale the fucking infinity castle, Don't you?"

"Yep."

Akaza raised a hand and pinched his temples, Almost sensing the oncoming headache this one human being was giving him. The sheer audacity to think that she could somehow maneuver her way down into the outskirts of the castle.

If she died then the stress he went through with this deal would be to waste. If she did die, Kaigaku might link him to her death when explaining it to Kokushibo. If that happened it meant he would go down with her.

But as his dandelion hued irises met back up with hers he could see the confidence burning in her retinas. It was a look he somehow recognised, That old connection clicking in the back of his mind, One from his human life.

He shook it off however. He had no time for that kind of useless reminiscence.

"What makes you think you'll be able to do something like that?" Akaza asked rather harshly as he signalled his hand towards the void below, Reminding her of her position.

[F/N] shrugged.

"Cause I'm a Hashira?" She said as if it was obvious, Using her title once more as a trump card of sorts to get her way.

Akaza looked back at her, Remembering her so called title. The fact that she was a Hashira still didn't register to him, Her weak frame and out-of-practice muscles telling him otherwise. He huffed.

"Last time I checked, Hashira couldn't about a hundred metres with only rope and nails to do so. I'm not letting you die until we finish this deal" Akaza repeated back to her like it was obvious.

[F/N] in turn clenched her fists. She knew Akaza wouldn't let her do this, Her only escape route. He wouldn't let her do this, Not without a good enough reason. It made the spark inside her light up again, The one from when Kokushibo gave her the hairpin.

It was that angry spark, The one she had been feeling more and more lately and the one she tried to dwindle into annoyance.

"Look.. I grew up in a place where scaling things was part of the description. Things like climbing or moving around dangerous area's is basically nothing. This is nothing." She exasperated, Gesturing to the void below and trying to keep her voice to a minimum to convince him.

Akaza gawked at her, Not understanding a thing.

"Like where. Where the hell would you need to grow up to scale an infinite void?" He argued back, The idea completely insane to him as he did.

"Nowhere good, Okay? Somewhere if you don't learn how to move quickly and efficiently you don't survive, And I did, So I think I'm more than qualified to climb my way out of here. Not unless you have any better ideas?" [F/N] said, Her voice mocking and sarcastic from both the irritation and reminder of her childhood.

Akaza lowered his brow, Thinking over her words. Though he didn't need to think for long because the spark inside her showed in her eyes, It made his agape mouth shut tight. The human part of his resonating once more, That part of him seemingly recognising the look.

How that was possible he didn't know. He didn't want to know what that implied but knew very well what it meant, Something inside him told him so. Something that trusted her skills well.

"..Fine, You better know what you're doing.." He spat lowly, A warning. [F/N] could tell as Akaza stepped away from her going a few feet down the dock.

"But the items you wanted will be difficult to smuggle in. The biwa demon knows everything that comes in and comes out. If I try bring in a bunch of nails and rope she'll certainly suspect something, So I'm going to need to do it in parts at a time." Akaza continued.

"Seriously? I suppose it's fair, It'll take time for me to construct it so while you gather the item's, I'll just work on it then I guess." [F/N] groaned.

"Good. Then afterwards I'll be out of this damned deal." Akaza commented, Obviously as annoyed as her.

[F/N] nodded.

"Same. I won't need to be here to deal with this place or the demons that inhabit it.. I'm just glad the only somewhat decent one can get me outta here." She sighed as she grabbed the side of her head, Feeling a sudden, Strange migraine coming on.

Akaza turned back to look at her, Raising a brow.

"Decent? What do you mean by that?" Akaza questioned.

[F/N] hummed slightly, Her lips pouting slightly in thought as she mulled her words over. Once she finished though she shrugged lazily.

"Well, As much as a bastard you are. You're also the only one who has some form of morals since you don't kill women, That and you did change my bandages that one time" She explained.

Akaza groaned, Obviously not happy that it was brought up again.

"I thought I said I didn't want you to talk about that." Akaza huffed, The vein in his head pulsating once more at the remembrance.

"Well I didn't want to be injured in the first place but here we are." [F/N] retorted, The hand gripping the side of her head throbbing once more. Her grip tightened and her teeth grinded slightly in futile attempt to relieve it.

"Oh, like that's my fault for injuring some pathetic human being. How about next time you d-" Akaza's rebuttal was quickly silenced by a hand over the mouth. A movement quicker than a lightning bolt made by [F/N], Her eyes wide and stretched open to their limits as she pressed a single finger against her lips.

Akaza's eyes opened in tandem with her own, Sensing the situation and a faint.. power. As he looked back towards [F/N] he could recognise the contorted expression on her face.

It was fear.

They stood in silence. The sudden sound of the running winds and the waves sloshing against each other below seemed so much louder now, Their breaths stilled and their eyes were locked together.

[F/N]'s ear twitched as the wind brushed against each of their skins. Though her eyes stared into his she wasn't focused on him, Instead she looked like she was trying to listen in on something.

Her still lungs took in a sharp intake of air. Her entire frame shot up like a terrified cat and the hand on his mouth quickly retracted, Falling to her side and stiffening like a wooden board.

"Kokushibo.. He's here"

Akaza stumbled back. [F/N]'s words echoed into the vastness and hit him like a ton of bricks, The broken glass of his eyes looked back and forth as his shoulders raised in defence.

"Upper six must of informed him I'm gone, He might've told of you- I don't know- But you need to leave. Now!" [F/N] exclaimed. She wasted no time in running over the crumpled kimono lying on the deck.

"Shit- Does he know I'm here?" Akaza exclaimed as he desperately searched around for any sign of the other demon. [F/N] started throwing the fabric over her shoulder, Too engrossed in dressing to look at him.

"I- I don't know." She responded quickly as she put her arms into the sleeves. The sudden headache, She had sensed his prescense returning to the shrine. His soul aura, A rotten and vile tasting soul, One that [F/N] could sense from miles away.

And she could sense that it was angry.

"I've got to leave, Immediately. But for what it's worth, Akaza." [F/N] said, Finishing tying her obi and looking back at him once. Their eyes connecting once more within the cold seas that surrounded them.

[F/N] smiled slowly. It wasn't genuine, But the meaning behind it spoke more than she said.

"I really do appreciate what you did for me, As much as a bastard you are you're not a bad person. It's not much but thanks for helping this pathetic human being anyways" She nodded once before turning away, Running down the rickety dock back the way they came from without another word. Left with only the shocked visage of the demon behind her.

Akaza watched her run away, His body unmoving. He saw [F/N] get smaller and smaller as she navigated the maze of docks, Jumping and leaping away until she was a speck on the shadowed horizon, Leaving him completely alone.

Akaza blinked once, Only as she entirely disappeared did he snap out of his stupor. He muttered angrily under his breath for her delusion and wasting time before bending his knee, Pushing himself forward off the dock.

He leaped into the yearning abyss, [F/N]'s words being nothing but an aftertaste as he fell.

☆♡☆

[F/N]'s feet hit against the dock like storming raindrops on a tiled roof. She watched them carefully to make sure her sandals didn't get caught in the wide gaps or splintered off pieces of timber.

Her lungs laboured. The further she ran and the more she jumped between routes the more she could sense his aura, The putrid decay of his soul writhing around in her skin.

[F/N] had always been able to sense it somewhat. Though before it was fainter than others, Now the stench was overwhelming her. The rot of it reeking of death, And most importantly anger.

Sweat dripped down her brow. [F/N] begged to Inari that he had no idea of what happened with her and Akaza. If he found out and killed him then she was basically done for. She swallowed, Begging just a little more to her patron.

The way they had gotten out of the shrine in the first place was with care. Akaza snuck her out through the front and made sure that Kaigaku wasn't there to see them and follow on, Afterwards he had quickly shown the pathway out.

She knew that this might happen, Akaza had informed her of their link on the way to the edge. [F/N] knew that once Kaigaku knew they had left he would inform Kokushibo of the situation.

Though she wished she had more time. More time to figure out what she was going to do with her business partner.

Akaza himself. [F/N] didn't like him, She didn't like the way he reminded her of the boys from her youth or the fact that he slaughtered Rengoku. But as anyone else she saw the silver lining within the rusted metal, He had principles and stood strong.

She appreciated that. There was some semblance of good in him, There was with everyone and he was no exception. The morals he did have must of carried on from his human life but how he became a demon in the first place baffled her.

But it didn't matter, They weren't suppose to get personal.

It was business only.

[F/N] saw the shrine get larger in the distance. Her pace quickened along with her breath, She saw the growing tuft of leaves sticking out the middle and the dim lanterns lining the inner docks as she ran.

Though as it grew closer and closer, The more she saw the lights of the dock the more she could see the one thing she dreaded, And it was standing tall on the porch and looking down at her.

"[F/N].." Kokushibo drawled out as she stumbled onto the main deck. His face appeared emotionless but [F/N] could tell he was angry, The stench he put off evidence of that as his eyes narrowed in on her.

[F/N] bit her tongue as she came to a standstill. She looked up into his eyes yet noticed the bulging vein appearing on the side of his forehead. [F/N] gulped.

"Took you long enough to appear.. Was wondering where you were.. I was starting to think I'd need to drag you here myself.." Kokushibo commented lowly, Tilting his head as he seemed to gauge her appearance.

"..I'm sorry, Kokushibo-sama. I was busy.." [F/N] replied quickly, Trying to make sure the shakiness in her voice wasn't as noticeable as her expression.

Kokushibo's expression didn't shift in the slightest as he stared down at her, Eyes wide yet his lips pressed together in a deep frown. They stood there like that for a moment, [F/N]'s heart feeling like it was about to implode.

It was broken however by the knowing voice of her tormentor, Speaking out a single sentence.

"You tried to run again, Didn't you..?" He interrogated. He lifted a single foot and placed it down, He took a few steps down the short porch steps towards her. Slowly, He made his way down until they were only a metre or so apart.

[F/N] looked down at her feet and away from the blinding glow of his eyes. She steadied her breath no matter how shaky it was. She tried to think of an appropriate answer but the power coming off his aura made her head want to explode.

"Yeah.. I did." [F/N] answered slowly. "I want to get out of here. I don't want to be here."

Kokushibo hummed slowly, A deep reverberation coming out as a near growl within his throat. The way he looked at her sharpened, His gaze could cut through rock and pierced her deeply.

"How many times have I told you.. Being here is for your own good.. You are safe within these walls, You cannot get out.." He emphasised it in that same infantilizing tone, The way he spoke to her made the spark reappear. The one [F/N] desperately tried to hide from him in fear of retribution.

"..I'm sorry. It won't happen again." [F/N] said bluntly, Hoping to get this entire interaction over with as quick as possible and avoid the now burning eyeline of her captor.

He in turn took one more step towards her, Making their already suffocating distance too close for her taste.

"But.. From what I've been made aware of is that you've been out for a while.. Much longer than it should take for you to run the entire way.." Kokushibo pondered as he raised a finger to emphasise his point.

"What can I say? Blocky sandals, See?" [F/N] said, Pointing down to her feet. "Takes me longer to run in these, I thought you knew.." She said as she lied through her teeth.

Kokushibo nodded.

"I suppose you are correct there.. I cannot fault that.. But let me ask you this.." He agreed slowly as his eyes narrowed. [F/N]'s breath stilled as she dared to take a peak at him, Body going rigid on sight as his hand reached out to cup her cheek.

His hand tilted her face up to meet his, [F/N] struggled slightly but it was impossible within his strong hold.

"However if you were running.. Then why didn't you come from behind the shrine? You came from the front.. If you were truly trying to escape then you would've looped around to the back.." Kokushibo whispered, Irises digging into her like the fury of a thousand spears.

Her eyes widened.

[F/N] opened her mouth as she tried to speak, To respond to him with some rational explanation but her tongue felt like it was weighed down by rocks. She felt her stomach turn and twist into knots.

He knew something was up. He knew. Think of something, Say something, [F/N]. You need to explain this somehow, He can't know about you and Akaza or how you're planning to escape. Come on, Think.. THINK!

"I.." She stammered. The voice in her mind screamed and hollered at her to say something, Anything at all to try and explain this. [F/N]'s hands felt more and more clammier each and every second that passed, Her mind came up with blanks.

Kokushibo leaned down further towards her, Eyes like headlights in the fog as he scrutinized every tiny speck of her. Down to the very last atom she was bonded to was made aware of.

"You've found the escape route.. Haven't you?" He mumbled.

"I don't know how you've been able to find it.. Maybe on chance or perhaps you were informed.." The claws that were tracing her cheeks before started to dig in a little more, It took everything [F/N] had not to make a whine or whimper of pain.

Kokushibo's eyes shone brighter.

"But of course.. I made sure to ensure you were completely alone in this place.. So that wouldn't be the case, Correct?" He asked lowly and calmly but the radiation of his soul was akin to a maggot infested corpse, [F/N] knew what he was truly feeling.

Her mouth felt like a desert, The sand of it weighing down her tongue until she couldn't speak anymore. Even if she could she didn't know what to say. How would she get out of this? Would she need to throw Akaza under the bus?

She didn't want to and hell would it impede her escape if not end it but.. If she couldn't think of anything soon then that might be the case. The way Kokushibo was looking at her made her want to shrivel away into a corner more than she already did and she was absolutely horrified.

[F/N] swallowed back her fear as she spoke, Mind blank as her voice guided her along.

"I.. I.. I was informed." [F/N] said slowly as she looked into his eyes. He blinked, Almost surprised.

"..Hm? Really now..?" Kokushibo drawled, Prompting her to go on and see how she would explain her fault.

[F/N] gulped.

"Yes. I was told.." She confirmed, Not just to him but herself as well as she spoke. [F/N] had no idea what she was going to say even now as she started to ramble off.

His eyes narrowed in on her.

"Tell me now and perhaps I might forgive you for your little attempt, Just this once.." Kokushibo promised though it sounded more like a threat as his claws dug in just a little more, Urging her on.

[F/N] tried not to wince at the painful sensation. She looked deep into the eyes of which seemed to be vast golden oceans, Cold steel looking back at her as she took in a deep breath. A bead of sweat forming on her forehead. Was she really willing to sacrifice another for her own survival?

[F/N] found out as she spoke.

"..It was upper six."

Kokushibo's narrowed eyelids went agape along with the tightening of his lips. The bead of sweat dropped from her brow and onto the deck below as the oxygen in her lungs slowly departed.

He seemed to be thinking over her words. His own Tsuguko, The one he had so generously appointed to watch over his beloved little sister tried to help her escape from his grasp? [F/N] could only wonder what was going on inside his head.

"Upper six directed me where to go. He approached me a while back and told me you sent him to watch me, He said he didn't want me here because he didn't like observing me all the time." [F/N] said slowly, Making sure it sounded right.

[F/N]'s skittish expression formed back into a normal cold faced expression, Well, It was as stable as a toothpick tower but it was something. She still wasn't out of the woods yet, Whether he would believe her or not was up to a coin toss of fate.

Whether he believed her or not meant life or death.

"Upper six.. You are saying that he has been assisting you this entire time?" Kokushibo repeated, His eyes scanning over her body with a hawk-eye that could rival the bird itself.

"Yes.. He did. I'm sorry for listening to him.. Kokushibo-sama." [F/N] said as she felt the pounding of her heart against her ribcage, Drumming and beating almost as if it would expose her words for what they really were.

Kokushibo hummed slightly as the grip on her cheek got excruciatingly painful.

"…And.. You're telling the truth, You understand what will happen if I find out you are lying.. Right? It would end rather.. Horrendously" He asked again.

The threat was a burning inferno kept behind the closed door of his stoic tone, One where she could feel the heat licking at her skin and ready to engulf her at any given moment. It was burning, Absolutely scorching.

"Yes.. I understand and that's why I would never lie to you. I don't want to deal with the consequences." [F/N] said, Bowing her head down to meet her feet, Eyes fixed on her sandals not wanting to see his reaction and hide hers.

She didn't breathe. She waited on baited breath for what felt like hours, Days even. The cold air felt like the antarctic wind against her skin and ran a bone-chilling shiver down her spine. But [F/N] kept a poker face, Despite all odds her face made no move or twitch.

Kokushibo sighed before speaking.

"I'm glad you we're able to be honest with me, Little one.. I will deal with this soon.." Kokushibo said finally, Letting go of her cheek and taking a step back from her to let her breathe. [F/N] in turn quietly let go of a breath she didn't know she was holding.

She bowed once.

"Thank you.. Kokushibo-sama." [F/N] said, Her shoulders relaxing as she did. She felt as if she dodged the bullet of the century, Out of the woods and home free. Metaphorically of course, He wasn't that gracious.

"You won't try running back to the ledge.. Will you? You understand how fruitless an endeavour would be to try and escape from there.." He asked once more, His gaze still soft yet sharpened by an inch as he asked.

It didn't go unnoticed. [F/N] knew it well and took no time in nodding right back in response.

"..Yes. I.. I saw it and I understand.. I.. Won't be getting out anytime soon, I know that now.." [F/N] said, Trying to seem as defeated as possible in her tone and body language. Lowering her shoulders and her head drooping downwards.

Kokushibo stood there in silence for a second, Taking in her words. "Good.." He finally spoke, Nodding once in approval though he didn't smile or make any positive gesture. His face was still contorted in a disappointed scowl though it wasn't as harsh as it was.

"You have interrupted me during my feeding and I wish to return to it.. Now run off back inside.. And for your own good I hope you stay in there." Kokushibo said as he turned back. His arm lightly brushing her's as he passed her by.

A light shiver came by at the cold, Slow feeling of his forearm dragging past her. [F/N] didn't dare to turn around as he stalked past her, Her face as motionless as a statue as she waited for her.

"Be good.. Don't try anything else, I will know if you do.."

It was the last thing he said. The last thing [F/N] heard before a turn in the wind and the sudden lightening in weight of the dock. She didn't need to look around to know he had left, Leaving only the lingering vile stench of his soul to lilt in the air.

[F/N]'s body instantly relaxed, Her shoulders slumped and her head drooping to the side in relief. Her heart was still pounding in her chest yet it started to stutter and slow until it was a simple rhythmic beat in her ribcage.

"Thank Inari.." [F/N] sighed lightly under her breath. She had survived that somehow, Whether he believed it or not was a completely different matter but for now he had bought it.

Despite the fact she lied pooling in the depths of her stomach, Even if it was necessary it still left her with a nasty aftertaste. But that didn't matter, Her relief outweighed her disgust right now.

Hopefully, With any form of luck that would take the Upper six out of the picture. Maybe Kokushibo would deem him as a failure and behead the guy. Though, Even if she hadn't met him [F/N] still felt a little bad.

Whatever. She thought to herself.

[F/N] knew that it didn't matter anymore, She had done the right thing. He was a demon and it didn't matter whether he was beheaded or not, It was probably for the best too.

Besides, This would help her escape immensely. She would be able to get around without the threat of being spied on or not, She wouldn't need to worry about who was watching her without permission.

From her list step one was completed. At least half of it anyways, She had a route out and a plan to make the exit. [F/N] huffed a little, She was lucky at least, The things she use to do in her childhood seemed to come in handy after all.

Next up, She needed to find the sword and mask. She wasn't sure whether they were being kept within the shrine or somewhere else, That was her main concern. Right now though her next course of action would be to rest.

Pushing open the heavy doors of the shrine they came ajar with a creak, Stepping inside she was greeted with the emptiness of the hallway once more. [F/N] almost expected the chatter of Kakushi and the sound of muffled laughter among the hallways.

But as usual it was silent. Nothing but the scuttling of spiders and the settling of the old structure to keep her company, [F/N] didn't know why she expected anything different as it had been like that for the past while.

It brought her back to what happened before she got here. The people she use to talk to and the people she adored and cared about. Mitsuri, Her face was the first to appear along with others in similar fashion.

[F/N] wondered if they missed her at all, How things could of changed since she left. Wondered if Mitsuri had gotten over her death yet. [F/N] hoped so, Mitsuri deserves happiness and it brought her back to the time they were so young, New slayers going on missions.

Memories came back to her. [F/N] remembered how Mitsuri blew her first pay check on cherry blossom mochi and pork cutlets, They had laughed about it all night. She remembered how they stayed up all night to look at the stars, To speak of made up stories ingrained in them all until they fell asleep.

[F/N] didn't know what would happen when she got out of here, How Mitsuri would react to her being alive. Would she cry? Would she be angry with [F/N]?

She did get Seijun to wrestle her out of the shrine.. The way her face looked so scared back then, It was the last expression [F/N] knew of Mitsuri before she was taken.

[F/N] shook it off however, In whatever way Mitsuri would think of her once she was back with the corps [F/N] just hoped it would be positive. That maybe she would get to say those words, The ones she had been wanting to say more than anything.

As she took a few quiet steps down the hall, Her movements were shaky and swaying with every little settlement of her foot. [F/N] felt the weight of the day or night fall down onto her shoulders once more, Making them slump.

It wasn't an oddity. She had been much tired than usual lately, Even being exhausted when she just woke up or just doing menial tasks. Her body feeling like a worn out paper doll, Just yearning for the embrace of her bedsheets.

If she wanted to search for the mask and the sword then she would need her energy to do it. That and she needed to wait for Akaza to return with the materials she would need to construct her exit.

So as she dragged her feet down the hallway and her mind half-asleep, [F/N] knew that it was for the best if she went to bed. If she wanted to go searching for her stuff then she needed to do it on a full nights rest.

Hauling open the shoji door to her room she stumbled inside like a new-born fawn. She barely bothered to take off the green lotus pattern of her kimono, Only tossing it to the side once she pulled it off herself.

[F/N] collapsed onto the bed, Her body melting into that of a puddle as soon as the mattress caressed her skin. Her laboured breathing starting to slow into a drift as her mind did the same, Floating off into the dark unconscious of her mind.

The last thing she wondered was what dream she would appear in again. Would it be the cold wasteland of the blizzard or the warm embrace of the midsummer sun? Would she be faced with that of her other life or that of her past.

She'd find out soon enough. Her eyes fluttered shut and the darkness spread over her vision into a shadowed sea.

It was peaceful, And she begged to Inari that it would stay that way.

Next Chapter

[skateboreds]

A Slice of Orange

chp. 2

*FKA The Orange Slice*

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: The most dangerous man in town has been staring at you nonstop, but keeps his distance until the night he walks you home...

tags: smut, medium burn, sexy stuff starts in chp.3, age difference, M/F, a lot of goddamn eye contact that turns into porn, porn w plot, zaddy joel, hand/finger kink, praise kink, mild blood in later chps, TLOU pt.II, NO Y/N

notes: Set at the beginning of The Last of Us Part II when Joel and Ellie live in the Jackson, Wyoming community, a few years after TLOU part I. Deviates from canon apart from that. Characterizations based mostly on the first game.

AO3 link: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45087460/chapters/113424397#workskin

CHAPTER TWO

Ever since you arrived in Jackson five months ago, music nights have been your favorite. Once a month, the town gathers in the meeting hall, the biggest building in town, to play music and drink and dance. It’s become the highlight of your time here, and if you’re being honest, maybe the highlight of your entire life since outbreak day. Which, it’s not like you remember much from that time prior. You were only four when it happened, but the memories of your family before are happy, albeit hazy and brief.

You smile as you walk in from the brisk cold of a March night, hanging your coat on the hooks lining the entrance, already full to the brim with jackets and scarves. The hall is lit as it usually is, with a spiderweb of hanging twinkly lights, making the room warm and golden. You hate to admit it but you search the room for him, quickly scanning the faces around you without trying to seem too obvious. But, to your extreme disappointment, you don’t see him. You kick yourself for the forming frown as you head towards the bar.

It’s ridiculous, you don’t even know him, but ever since your interaction with him a few days ago, your mind has been a non-stop storm of Joel. It’s laughable that you thought you used to think about him constantly because the last few days had bordered onto obsession. You woke up thinking about his eyes when he looked at you with that curiosity, that hunger. Walked to the stables with the image of his broad shoulders behind you, dwarfing your frame. Went to bed imagining his rough hands trailing over your soft skin, drawing lazy circles on your stomach, lower and lower, painting in your wetness, raising those dripping fingers to his open mouth… You stop yourself short when you almost slam into a woman standing before the bar, nearly making her spill her drink.

You apologize profusely and side step away.

Ok, let’s stop fantasizing and just have a nice time, shall we? It doesn’t matter if he’s not here, maybe you’ll never even see him again!

This thought makes the frown deepen on your face. You don’t want to admit just how much that possibility disappoints you.

While you wait for the bartender to pour you a glass you turn to survey the room. There aren’t many beautiful things in this world anymore, so whenever you see one, you make sure to note it. This hall is filled with amber light and laughter and touch and freedom. A band plays in the corner, guitars and fiddles and violins, cheery and upbeat. It’s truly dazzling. Your frown is slowly replaced by a genuine smile. And the longer you look at the people swaying and laughing, you can’t help it, you giggle. At the sight of the spirit of human resistance. That people will always make room for beauty even when survival isn’t guaranteed. You’re standing there, laughing like an idiot when your eyes sweep directly into Joel’s, who is already looking straight at you. You stop short, making an audible noise of surprise. He is sitting in the far-right corner partially obscured by a pillar, which is how you missed him on your first sweep, you realize. He sits with his brother Tommy, and Tommy’s wife Maria. The married couple talk animatedly while Joel sits to their left side, a beer in his hand, and his eyes on you.

His gaze is intense…so intense you aren’t sure if he’s mad at you. Which you truly can’t fathom why he would be. Is he mad that he gave you so many cards? Maybe he feels like he was forced into showing you kindness since you were on the brink of being thrown out and he took pity on you. And now he’s annoyed that he made less than he would have. Maybe he wants them back, you realize with horror. That would tricky; you already spent them on food and a new hat. His expression is stiff, a wild light dancing in his eyes as he just looks at you. Maybe he’s just uncomfortable that you are so obviously interested in him, and he wishes a girl like you would stop mooning over him in public. But you hadn’t even seen him in days! Maybe he was avoiding you, you think with despair.

All of this races through your mind while he spears you with his gaze. His face is still, but his stare is full of molten heat as he slowly takes his eyes off yours and rakes them over your body, down…up…and back to your frozen face.  You become extremely aware of the clothes on your skin, what is exposed and what isn’t. You think perhaps you are trembling and your heart thuds in your chest, the world starting to spin, and his eyes still continue their strange burning.

Finally, someone taps you on your shoulder and the curse is broken. You realize you haven’t been breathing and suck in a shaking breath as a young man comes into view, probably around your age, plain-faced and smiling. He points to your unattended beer at the bar.

“This is yours, ain’t it?”

You don’t know how long your drink was sitting there after it was called out, how long you stood there, consumed by Joel’s attention.

“Oh, yeah thanks. Forgot about that.” you mutter.

“I don’t think I could ever forget about a beer once I’ve laid eyes on it.” he says, looking to be expecting a laugh for that.

Fully ignoring him, you pick up your beer, realizing your hand is shaking as you bring it to your lips. You sneak a look back towards Joel and he is talking to Tommy, seeming perfectly calm, normal. There doesn’t seem to be any trace of the bizarre fervor from before, except for perhaps a lingering tightness to his jaw. You can’t be sure though and look away, down into your glass. Did you just make all of that up??? You feel like you’re slowly losing your mind.

“I’m Adam.” the boy says, sticking out a hand. You don’t look up.

“You don’t have a name?” he asks.

He’s fucking annoying, you think.

“Not interested.” you reply, dryly.

He barks a laugh and shrugs.

“Suit yourself, not interested. I don’t need to know your name, we don’t even have to talk. Just give me one dance.”

His hand is still extended and he pushes it closer, indicating he is wanting to pull you onto the floor. You don’t usually dance when you come to these things, you know some people in town, but not anyone you’d come to these nights with. Not anyone you’d dance with. There’s only one person you fantasized about pressing your body up against while swaying to music. But the thought of that is so ridiculous, stony Joel leading you on a dance floor, that you beat the image back every time it enters your head.

You’re ready to tell Adam you’d rather snort an ant pile then dance with him when your eyes flit back to Joel and you pause. His daughter Ellie and her friend that works at the daycare, you can’t remember her name, are standing by him now. The girls talk energetically and Joel looks up at them, smiling. He’s a different Joel now, his eyes are soft and warm, echoing the light in this room. Tommy chimes in now and Ellie responds by picking up a couple peanuts from the table and tossing them at him. Everyone at the table laughs, including Joel. It’s a laugh you can only see, not hear from where you stand, but it seems genuine and deep.

You’ve only ever seen Joel laugh like that, with abandon, one other time. It was when you originally arrived in Jackson and the first time you ever saw him. You were at the stables looking for work when he and Ellie arrived back from a patrol. They were putting their horses in their stalls, chatting, and they didn’t see you waiting by the back door. Ellie told him a joke, something you can’t remember now, and Joel threw his head back roaring with laughter, his whole frame shaking with it. She giggled, pleased with herself as he ruffled her hair and stared at her with the most love and adoration you had seen in years, maybe ever. The late afternoon sun pierced through the wooden barn roof like swords, and a shaft of light fell on Joel’s beaming face, his tan skin glowing, his eyes soft and shining. He was more than just handsome. He was wearing the proof of love and family and belonging all over his face. He was beautiful. You couldn’t help but stare. That’s when he looked up and noticed you.

You froze as his eyes, quick and perceptive and still warm from laughing, roved over you. They darted over your face before looking your entire body up and down. You don’t know what he beheld when he looked at you, only that his face held first surprise, then relief at not detecting a threat, and finally, a slow intensity that you had come to recognize from him. Something deepened in his regard and you didn’t move a muscle until Ellie noticed where Joel’s attention had gone. She turned towards you.

“Hey! You new? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” she asked, smiling.

You turned to the girl before you, maybe in her late teens, a happy, pretty face.

“Y-yeah, got here just last week.”

The short conversation you had with his daughter had been the first time you socialized since arriving, and you were grateful for her kindness and openness. But for the entire quick introduction you got of them both, before she excused themselves to go home, Joel didn’t say a single word and his eyes didn’t leave your face. And you had no idea why.

You are brought back to the moment before you, to Joel and Ellie and their family. To the indisputable togetherness they exuded, and you suddenly feel so, sickeningly lonely. You are tired of being alone, of having no one to talk to, to laugh with, to touch. You want to belong and to feel someone want you. Hold you. You miss people.

All of this these thoughts pass through you in the span of only a couple seconds, and before you can think about it took long you are taking Adam’s hand and leading him to the middle of the floor. You don’t think about how he smells like sweat and beer, or how his hands go a little too low on your back, but mostly that someone is witnessing you right now. You are a part of someone else’s story in this moment. For the first time in a long time, you no longer feel like you are disappearing along with everything else in your life that has already evaporated. You spin in Adam’s arms for the rest of the song, the band’s music rising to a roaring crescendo. You don’t pay attention to anything besides how good the pressure of human hands feel on your body, even if they aren’t quite as big as the ones you’ve been fantasizing about. Around and around you twirl, the lights blurring, the other couples swinging near. You’re not focusing on anything until you spot Joel over Adam’s shoulder. He sits alone at the table now, and his face is completely unreadable. His eyes aren’t focused on yours, but rather Adam’s hands grabbing at your waist. You’re not sure what thoughts are behind that strange expression but you notice his hand is squeezing the arm of his chair so tightly that his knuckles are white. Before you can ponder this too long, Ellie and her friend dance past you, smiling at each other. They gaze at each other with shyness and excitement, and you wonder if perhaps they are more than only friends. The thought makes you smile. You are equally happy for their joy as you are jealous of it. You mean to turn back to Joel, to decipher his mood, when Adam suddenly yanks you towards the edge of the dance floor.

“Hey!” you half yell. You weren’t done having fun yet.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks you, smirking and stepping close. He slides a hand south on your side and squeezes at the flesh on your hip.

Fury flares as you are suddenly very uncomfortable with every place he put his hands on your body, feeling like they left a hot, oily mark on your skin.

“I am not your baby, Asshole.” you say, shoving away and trying to pull your hand back, but he has it grasped tightly.

“Come with me to my place, and we can keep the party going.”

“Get your grimy little hands off me, imbecile.” you respond and this time you yank your arm hard enough to free it.

Adams’ face shifts into something more sinister as he takes a step towards you. You are suddenly very aware of how few people you know in this dance hall, how no one might pay much attention if you were pulled out of here by this idiot. You start to retreat, the hairs on the back of your neck raising as Adam stalks another step. Tensing up, you suck in a breath, ready to yell or punch if need be. You don’t know how to fight but this guy seems drunk and isn’t that large, so you figure you have a pretty good shot of getting past him. But before you can do any of these things, Adam freezes his advance and his gaze slides up off your face onto something much taller, right behind you. You still as you feel the heat of a body standing very close, the lights above you slightly shadowed now.

“I’d suggest listening to a woman when she tells you no.” Joel says from behind you, his voice low and even. Something deadly is present behind his words.

Adam just raises his hands and puts on a sheepish, false grin, the serpent back behind the mask.

“Hey man, we were just having fun.”

“I’m gunna give you two seconds walk away before I bring you outside, Adam.” Joel says icily, somehow the quiet of it sounding so much more dangerous. He enunciates Adam’s name, a threat of knowing who he was.

Adam stiffens and doesn’t so much as throw you a glance as he whips around, disappearing into the crowd. Joel rounds your shoulder then, coming to face you. His eyes are hard, but there seems to be real concern there too.

You look up at the face of the man you’ve been thinking about nonstop, suddenly so close to you. Without warning, you feel a crack snap through the steady hold you’ve been keeping on your emotions for the past five months. It hits hard and deep and the sudden imbalance makes you start giggling; it bubbles forth without your consent. You feel delirious, the entire weight of everything falling on you at once. Your desperate loneliness. Your constant fear and hunger and stupid desires. The fact that you let loose for one moment and some clown tried to pull you out of here. Your anger masked the true, debilitating fear you felt about men. And your biggest nightmare almost just came true. And then your devastating obsession with someone you don’t even know. The fact that Joel, Joel, came to your rescue tonight. When a moment ago it seemed like he wanted to evaporate you with his gaze. Why did he help you just now? Why did he give you ration cards and then stare at you like he couldn’t stand you? And why did he share that stupid fucking orange with you just to take it all back!!??? It doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t make any sense. You’re laughing for real now, unable to stop the mania that had begun.

“What’s so funny?" he asks warily, his expression creased with far more worry now. You probably seem like you’ve lost your mind.

You can’t figure out how to explain the weight of everything you feel, so you take a second to let the laugh die down and take a calming breath. You decide to settle on a small truth.

“I wish I could scare men off as easily as you do.”

Joel considers this for a moment, searching your face, seeming to try and pick what path to go down. After a beat he slides his hands in his pockets and gives you a smile.

“Oh, trust me, there are plenty of men here that are terrified of you.”

You’re not too sure what he means by that. You’ve never felt like anyone in town even noticed you much, save for the plenty arguments you found yourself in, especially when you first got here. But you didn’t want to fight, you were pretty tired of it, actually. So, you mainly tried to keep to yourself now. Emphasis on the word try. Except for Tate. That guy can go fuck himself. “I don’t think I scare the men I argue with very much.” you respond.

Joel furrows his brow at that, seemingly genuinely dismayed at your interpretation of his words.

“You must notice how they all look at you.” he finally says.

You weren’t expecting him to say that at all. You don’t think you ever particularly noticed anyone looking at you for very long, except for him. Joel searches your eyes and finally nods subtly to the bar. Following his line of sight, you see a gaunt man standing with a mostly empty glass. He is looking at you, which you figured might be due to your proximity to Joel, but the man isn’t looking at him, just you. He notices your attention and smiles, timid. You focus on his expression, and it reminds you of how you must look when you stand in front of the bakery’s window, unable to afford the golden pastries. How you maybe look when you see Joel. He seems actually…interested. In you. He even seems intimidated. You stand there, shock coloring your face no doubt. Joel chuckles slightly and turns his head now to also face him. When the man meets his gaze he quickly ducks his heads and turns back to the bar.

“Is that really the first time you’ve noticed that?” he asks.

“But… I’ve never had anyone…say anything...” you trail off.

“Might be due to the fact that you seem to bite any man’s head off who gets near you.” he responds teasingly.

“All men want is trouble.” you respond.

“You’re not wrong about that.” he says to you, smirking, a double meaning seeming to swim under those words.

Instead of focusing on that though, you instead swivel around the room and sure enough, you meet about three, now four, different men eyeing you up and down. Each one seems perhaps timid, mostly curious, the desire clearer to you now. Joel follows your sweep, looking at the men a second behind you and one by one they drop their gazes, shy intimidation replaced by genuine anxiety when he locks eyes with them.

“You’re scaring off my admirers.” you say, awe tinging your voice.

“I can leave you to ‘em if you want.” he says watching you.

You realize, to them, you appear spoken for. The fear is clear. You’ve seen it when Joel walked through town, or claimed a seat somewhere, or reached for something. A quality you’ve always been envious of. People moving out of his way, careful not to touch what he had his eye on. Real terror. Of what would happen if they got in the way of his intent. It’s a prehistoric way of thinking, that you could be owned like a gun, that you could be something that Joel had. This thought would normally bother you, but the concept of you belonging to Joel sends a ragged thrill to your core, sharp and electric. The crack in your veneer lets a little of that thrill out and you can’t stop what you say next.

"I prefer being claimed by you, I think." you say, staring up at him.

His gaze on you transforms into something dark and starving, something predatory. And as opposed to Adam’s snake-ish look, this one kindles a heat inside you, pooling low in your belly and wrapping down around your knees, threatening to knock your legs out from underneath you. You’re breathless and your skin feels feverish as he advances towards you slowly. So slowly, like he wasn’t even conscious of doing so. He takes steps towards you, until there are only a few inches between your bodies and you’re having to crane your head upwards to look at him. His face is so close and fully in focus for the first time. You can see a scar sloping off the bridge of his nose and you wonder how he got it, wishing you could trail your finger over the short dash. You can also, finally, see his eyes clearly. They’re not brown but…hazel. A mix of jade and warm brown, like staring up at the trees on a summer’s day. They gleam with such illumination, you take his face in now, and in the glow of the gold light he looks…resplendent.

Dear God, you want to touch him so badly; you feel like your skin will light on fire from the desire. You want to hold his face between your hands and stare into those hazel eyes, you want to crush your mouth against his and swallow his every breath. You want to feel his hands explore your skin, greedy. You want him to slam your body to his, you want to feel yourself melt into him until it would be impossible to ever be alone again. You want him, you want him, you want him. With the high of your desire mixed with that new crack in your chest, you feel yourself unravel more and more and you make a decision that has now become unavoidable.

You hope your face reflects your endless craving, so he understands, and you blink up at him, slowly biting your lip.

You can’t be sure over the din of the hall, but you swear you hear a low groan escape his throat.

The sound erases everything else in the room and you can’t help yourself as you reach for his broad chest, your fingers just brushing the tan fabric of his jacket when, quicker than you’d expect, his hand grabs yours, stilling it. The disappointment of not reaching his body is replaced by the sharp low thrum you feel from having his hands around yours. It’s so much larger than yours, the skin warm and calloused and rough. You feel fucking feral. Joel says your name softly and you snap up to meet his eyes, equally crazed to how you feel in this moment. He indicates to the other side of the room though and, with much effort, you tear your gaze away to look. Ellie stands with Maria and Tommy, the latter looking right back, inspecting your hand clutched in his. Tommy raises a brow at Joel questioningly, playfully. Joel drops your hand at this and it falls limply at your side, the absence of his grip suddenly icy and painful. Like hopping out of hot water into icy snow. It feels permanent.

Right. Get a hold of yourself. His family is right there. What were you going to do anyway? Jump his bones in public? In front of his daughter? Does he even think of you in that way?

Doubt fills you, making you feel sick. The noise of the hall is suddenly too loud, the people dancing too hot and close. You’re not sure what your face has twisted into but Joel reaches a hand up to your cheek, stopping before he makes contact. He shoots another glance to the side and Tommy is whispering something to Maria, a smile dancing on both their lips. Next to them, Ellie notices their pointed attention and turns to you both. Joel drops his hand, lightning fast again.

“Can I walk you home?” he asks, sounding almost desperate.

You’re not sure what anything means anymore, but you nod weakly.

[satansapostle6]

The Man Who Sold The World | Luke Castellan

Spotify Playlist Link

Katherine. She was the one who started it all for Luke Castellan, the reason he did what he did.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen: Time Lost

Katherine Montalvo had partied herself into oblivion. For the past fifteen days, she’d done nothing but dance on tabletops and occupy seats at various poker tables.

Everything was lost on her; the bright Vegas lights all around her had dulled all of her senses and replaced all of her inhibitions with excitement. Just about every remnant of her rough past was gone. All she was aware of were the bright lights, cash being passed pack and forth, and the strong drinks being served to her.

Katherine hadn’t felt like this in a long time; she hadn’t felt like a true party girl in a long time, and she certainly hadn’t felt like a star in a long time. But still, there she was, being treated like one. Just about everyone in the room was cheering for her like she was throwing her own concert as she danced on top of the bar, micro skirt swaying like a flag everyone stood to salute as she moved.

Eventually, she surrendered to the excess and opulence around her entirely as a nearby waitress handed her another profoundly delicious, flower-shaped cookie. Cash, ones to twenties to hundreds, were all being thrown up at her as she danced aimlessly while the bartender served.

She had almost forgotten that she was apparently singing, something she couldn’t even remember the last time she did, as the whole room showered her with dollar bills and affection. Everything felt like heaven; her surroundings all felt like she was on ecstasy. The lights were bright, the music and the ambience sounded amazing, and the mystical but seductive aroma wafting through the air made her weak.

Katherine was screaming whatever random club song was playing at the top of her lungs over all the other drunk people, accepting a beer from one of the other patrons beneath her feet, dancing all Coyote Ugly as she teasingly sank to her knees, pouring the liquid all over her white top as the crowd went insane. Her kitten heels swept over the bar as she danced, her body moving freely and enthusiastically, until she froze.

She stopped dead, seeing a strangely familiar face out in the crowd, behind all the screaming girls and drunk guys. The face didn’t register with her completely at first. She knew it was someone she’d known, but how, she couldn’t think up an answer right away. But after a minute of just standing there much to everyone’s confusion, Katherine stepped down from the bar as she realized she suddenly found like she was in love.

She slowly pushed her way through the crowd, pink, purple, and blue beams shining her eyes as she traced the tall figure to the back of the room.

“Hey,” she breathed, smiling coyly.

Luke Castilian looked at her in confusion, a mixture of emotions that she didn’t understand on his face. He had searched and scoured room after room looking for her, praying she was alive.

“Katherine,” he tried to hold her attention, hands placed firmly on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

He feared for her safety as he gradually guided her away from the rest of the people in the room.

“Yeah, I’m fine… Luke,” his name slowly came back to her.

“We need to go. Okay?” he said gently but firmly.

“Why?” Katherine pouted, brushing back a strand of wet hair. “I like it here…”

“That’s the point, Katherine. You’re in the lair of the Lotus Eaters, remember?” he tried to get through to her. “They lure people into their traps with fun, and comfort. This is a trap; you’re in a trap.”

“I don’t care!” she scoffed, still angry at him for interrupting her good time.

Luke did his best to hold onto her, recognizing that the last thing he wanted was to lose her in the crowd.

“It’s fun! Come on!” she pleaded, tugging on his shirt like a child. “Let’s go dance! It’ll be fun…”

“Hey. Look at me,” Luke said desperately, as she only stared into his blue eyes with a playful lust. “Remember! You’re Katherine Montalvo, daughter of Nemesis. You were lured into the lair of the Lotus Eaters. You need to leave.”

“But I don’t wanna go,” she pouted. “Come on, baby, just have a drink. Loosen up.”

“No. Look at me, Katherine! I need you to come back with me!” he yelled in frustration. “I need you! I love you!” he begged her.

He could feel the tension rising in his chest as he looked at her, not recognizing the completely soulless person he saw.

“I need you too, baby,” she promised him, her eyes heavy with allure, as she hooked a finger beneath his tight black shirt. “Come have a drink with me. Just one drink…”

“No. Katherine, we’re leaving,” Luke declared stubbornly.

“No! I’m not going!”

“Okay, listen…”

“I’m not going!”

Luke sighed inwardly as he slowly scanned the bar area, trying to determine the most efficient course of action. Feeling he didn’t have any other options as all of the ‘casino employees’ around him began to stare, he sighed as he threw her over his shoulder, carrying her out like a giant mannequin.

“Hey! What are you doing?!” she screamed. “Put me down!”

Luke was hoping that with all the madness happening around them, nobody would notice the scene she was making, but unfortunately, they did notice. At least the ones in charge of the whole operation. Luke sighed heavily as he drew Backbiter from his pocket, allowing the double-edged blade to extend into the fearsome weapon he’d come to connect with.

The monsters in the form of casino employees closed in around him, looking ready to charge as he held the sword in his hand, keeping Katherine balanced on his shoulder as she kicked and screamed at him.

“We’re going to have to ask you to put her down,” one of the men told him.

“No,” Luke said simply, sword ready.

The Lotus Eaters surrounding him all recoiled slightly at the sight of his sword. Even monsters felt the energy coming off of Backbiter; it was a weapon they recognize as a match for them. Even monsters could tell that it was an evil sort of weapon, even forged from blood.

Before Luke could get a handle on things, Katherine managed to jump down from his shoulder, lipstick tube flicked open into a long spear as she realized the danger they were in. She had sprung to life the second Luke’s life was threatened, and he saw the darkness return to her eyes as she remembered who she really was.

The Lotus Eaters all charged as Katherine backed up, covering Luke’s back as they fought them off together. Luke ducked a heavy blow as Katherine swung her spear around, taking off one of their captors’ arms as they fought their way toward the door.

Katherine and Luke slashed and killed their way out the front door, running as fast as they could.

“Go!”

Katherine yelled loudly as she swung her spear overhead, allowing Luke to take her keys to her car, which he’d found abandoned for some reason a few minutes away. Katherine impaled whatever she could, violently ripping her spear out of a now dead corpse as Luke started the car. Seeing her chance, she ran to the other car door, quite literally jumping in as she slammed the door shut before anything could get the chance to run out.

Luke pealed away immediately, driving fast, beyond any speed limit as he kept his eyes trained on the road. He weaved around the other cars on the road, ignoring all the loud honks and eventual sirens. It wasn’t too long before he reached the highway, the two of them panting softly.

“I’m sorry,” Katherine breathed, eyes wide with horror. “I’m sorry I left. And I’m sorry I got myself stuck…”

“I don’t care,” Luke sighed with relief, directing his attention to her as he drove. “You’re alive. I don’t care about anything else,” he assured her.

Katherine nodded, eyes closing as she felt her own guilt worsening.

“I love you,” he reminded her, as she looked back up at him. “I love you.”

She gratefully accepted the olive branch, nodding as she held back tears.

“I’m so sorry I yelled at you,” Luke told her, his face contorted with distress. “You didn’t deserve that. Any of that. I shouldn’t have treated you that way, and I’m so mad at myself—”

“It’s okay,” Katherine said through tears, “It’s okay. You lost a baby too.”

Luke nodded silently, trying to remember which direction to drive in.

“How about we take some time for ourselves?” he suggested, not feeling the need to return to camp yet. “Why don’t we just go somewhere quiet, you and me, and take a breather? For a couple weeks, or something?”

“Okay,” she nodded, appreciating the thought more than she could express. “Let’s do it.”

She appreciated his thoughtfulness more than anything else about him. She knew she was Luke’s world; everything was about her, and at one, their baby, too. And she felt the same way about him, hating herself every time she missed an opportunity to show him how much he truly meant to her.

“There’s some extra clothes in the back,” Luke told her, seeing her now see-through white top that smelled like the floor of a bar.

“Thank you,” she said genuinely, not referring to just the clothes as she reached into his bag, pulling out one of his grey T-shirts. “How did you get here?” she asked, realizing he was driving her car.

“My dad’s shoes,” Luke told her, as she looked down at his feet by the pedals.

Katherine was once again astounded by him, realizing he’d gotten all the way to Vegas via flying shoes from Hermes.

“You… You flew all the way here?” she looked at him in awe.

“I had to,” he said, as if it were the obvious answer. “You needed me.”

“I did,” Katherine agreed, her brown eyes locked on his. “More than I knew.”

He nodded, smiling softly as he realized nothing had ever happened to the eternal spark that lingered between them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel safe the way I should’ve,” he said. “I never want to make you feel like I don’t see the way you care for me. And the way you cared for the baby,” he added.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, understanding the depth of his apology. “It’s not your fault it feels like the world’s caving in on me.”

“If the world’s caving in on you, then I guess that makes me Atlas,” he told her, a twinkle momentarily appearing in his blue eyes to match his smile.

Katherine nodded, her eyes filling with tears as she remembered the story of the man who was forced to carry the world on his back as Zeus’s eagle picked his insides out over and over again every day. There was no doubt in her mind that he would’ve done so for her.

“I’m in love with you, Luke,” she reminded him. “And nothing could ever change that.”

He nodded, accepting the fact as he steered with one hand, the other holding tight to her thigh, her skin warming his.

-

Chapter Twenty

[losech]

Got some new bling for the truck.

I finally finished the brake lines, water pump and fan clutch, thermostat, coolant flush, and new battery. It runs and sounds good and does stop but needs a full brake rotor/pad/drum/shoe job. I also discovered one of the sway bar links I replaced two years ago broke again, and I have yet to do the intermediate steering shaft.

[club-touge]

Little FC update: I deleted and removed some clutter from the engine bay. Starting with the leaking and complicated swirl pot setup. Then I purchased the greddy compression tube along with new charge pipes. The old setup w/ stock throttle body tube made it so the charge pipe had to do a 180 and to be removed to service oil filter. That is no longer the case! And it looks a bit more sleek. I also got an oversized air filter to replace the teeny cone filter. This changed the turbo flutter noise. Next up I had redone alot of the chassis wiring, IT WAS A MESS before, been cleaning it up as I go. Fixed a few drive-ability issues along the way. Then finally the parts table.. I got some new coilovers to replace the mismatched set. It had 10k front springs and 10k rear springs on dampers with zero adjustment. Now sitting on 8k front, and 6k rear - 32 way adjustable. I got powered by MAX rear links for camber and toe adjustment. I plan to raise the car a little to fix geometry and get clearance for the 245 square setup. It had a few other minor things I got to address as well. I added stock sway bars back on, with adjustable end links to eliminate preload. Power steering lines leaking- replaced with new. Also got some new steering rack bellow boots. Upgraded to an FD Alternator, fixed tps wiring, and got a front lip for the S5 front bumper.

[therisingdarkness]

5 Times Ghoul Left the Bar Alone, and One Time He Didn’t

Written for @cloned-eyes and for Ghoul and Odessa. I really took my time here cause I wanted it to be perfect. So heads up, it’s like 41 pages. It gets a little heavy here so proceed with caution. Tagging @lune-de-miel-au-paradis because they asked for it XD

ALSO heads up but next chapter is just gonna be like...smut. Lots and lots of smut. I guess if you wanna be tagged for notifications send me an ask and I’ll hold onto your handle. I don’t have a timeline cause I really wanna take my time with it, but if you wanna be tagged for the last update let me know. Once I’m done this is all gonna be posted on Ao3 as well, and I’ll drop the link eventually.

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

I’m late, Odessa thought as she hurried to replace the bottles of liquor in their proper places on the shelves. Rumi bumped into her from behind, pushing her further against the counter she was already leaning over and almost making her drop the Corellian whiskey. Annoyance shot through her, making her lekku twitch erratically. Rumi gave her a strange look, but said nothing. They were all a little on edge with the sudden and unexpected influx of customers, prompting their boss to have them all scheduled to be working at the same time. They were all exhausted, sweaty, sticky from spilled liquor, and tensions were running at an all time high.

She knew it wasn’t the fault of the customers—four separate battalions had returned to Coruscant at the same time, two having secured an unexpected foothold against the Separatist forces that had the news channels buzzing with excitement. Naturally the clones were looking to celebrate and Odessa refused to hold it against them for going off the rails, even if it meant running herself a little ragged; besides, no matter how irritated or tired she was, it was good to see them laughing and smiling and rough-housing around with another. 

The Republic had suffered too many losses over the past several months—a solid win to bolster spirits and morale, for both the common citizen and the soldiers, had been sorely needed. She only wished her boss had had the foresight to schedule her and the other girls in staggered shifts, instead of the rough sixteen-hour stretches that left her feeling like her bones had liquefied. 

“Odie!” one of the new clones called out, trying to carry a tune as he all but sang out her name. “Ooooodiiiieee! I need another round!”

“I am thinking you are about to be cut off,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Cobra, who was absolutely supporting himself on the shoulders of another, less enthusiastic clone. He grinned at her, tried to wink, and ended up just blinking with both eyes instead. 

“I’m perfectly fine,” he said, swaying gently in place. 

“Mmm, I think not. But you deserve to cut loose, so this one time I am looking the other way. How many?”

“Eight shots, Rotgut!”

Odessa wrinkled her nose at his choice but expertly lined up eight small shotglasses and quickly pulled the Rotgut from beneath the bar, pouring a generous amount into each glass so the liquor spilled over the rim. She wasn’t going to be stingy with servings, not this week. Her boss would complain later and she’d be ready to give him an earful about how the boys deserved to indulge, especially since they were still paying for everything.

“Try not to spill all over my floor,” she said as she helped him situate the little glasses between his fingers. She knew very little about Cobra, except that he was one of the bigger clones she had seen come through 79’s, that he was a medic, and that he loved to talk.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” he laughed, holding up his hands and wriggling his fingers; the glasses clinked against one another, but nothing spilled or slipped out of his grasp. “Steadiest hands in the GAR! You should see me operating in the field!”

“Very impressive,” Odessa agreed, surprised by the way he didn’t shake at all, despite his obvious inebriation.

“Yeah? You should see what else these hands are good for.”

Cobra actually managed a real wink this time, but Odessa shook her head and smiled, unaffected by his charm. Fending off the regulars was easy; they all knew where the boundary lines laid and didn’t make any attempt to push any of the girls outside of their comfort zones. Flirting was just part of the job description, and Odessa knew how the game was played well enough to rake in a generous amount of tips every night. Cobra didn’t know any better, but it was still good fun, even if she didn’t humor him as much as she might have a few months ago.

“Go enjoy,” she said, “and next time ask Rumi for drinks; she is having her eye on you all day.”

“Can you blame her?” Cobra said, his grin only enhanced by the piercings he wore on his lower lip. He tossed his head, the curls of his mohawk flopping into his eyes, before laughing and heading back to his table, where he was greeted by his men with rousing cheers. The clone he had been leaning on, a quiet man with a dour expression, followed after him a little more slowly, the only sober one of the bunch.

I’m late, Odessa thought again as she watched Cobra and his companion get sucked back into the fold of their unit. 

“Magda,” she called out, catching the attention of the older woman working the floor. “I have to take my break—there is a very important call I am to be making. Please, can I go?”

Magda, tall and striking with dark skin and darker eyes, groaned and rubbed her hand up and down her face. She was older than both her and Rumi combined and had worked at 79’s the longest. She had been the one to teach Odessa the art of bartending, how to serve drinks on a tray without the whole thing tipping over, and how to subtly encourage a patron’s philandering without leading him on. She was usually a fun-loving, boisterous woman…but right now she looked as though she wanted to strangle Odessa with her own lekku.

“You’re killin’ me, kiddo,” Magda said. “You see how many clones are in here tonight? I got the whole GAR drinkin’ us out of stock!!”

“I know, and I am so so sorry,” Odessa pressed, “but I really must make this call. It is my father, and if I don’t he will become so worried—I promised I would find time and he hates it when I am unable to keep my promises–-”

“You tell your old man that he better let you live your life,” Magda complained. “You’re an adult, sweetheart, you get to call your own shots. Kark happens and not everything is gonna go accordin’ to plan.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but it is very different on Ryloth. I am expected to keep my word.”

“You’re not on Ryloth anymore.”

Odessa paused, a small, secret part of her whispering that Magda was right, that she shouldn’t have to give in to her father’s whims now that she was so far removed from his watchful eye. She tried to think of the worst thing that could happen if she were to just…keep working, skip break, skip the call she was already supposed to be making, and continue about her day like she didn’t have anyone but herself to care about. The image of her father’s disappointed face rose to the forefront of her mind, the frown lines bracketing his mouth even more pronounced than they usually were. A shudder worked its way up her spine and Odessa shook her head violently.

“Sorry,” she said, with an apologetic smile, “I will make it up to you, I promise!”

Magda looked at her with something close to concern. Despite the warnings she gave on Odessa’s first day about how she wasn’t going to hold anyone’s hand or come to the rescue for every little mistake made, Magda still had a tendency to mother her from time to time; and not just Odessa, but the other girls as well. She was always listening to Rumi complain about her dating life, giving advice where needed, and she had been quick to call a cab for Kri’tak when she was too drunk to make it home on her own. Maybe she couldn’t help herself…but Odessa always knew she could count on Magda to be the teeniest bit lenient.

“How long have you been here?” Magda asked, checking the time on her wristpiece. 

“I think twelve hours,” Odessa said.

“Ugh. I can’t believe he’s keeping you girls this long…okay. Tell you what. You go take break, make your little call and tell Daddy everything is fine, and then I’m gonna have you clean the counter. After that, you go home and get some rest. How’s that sound?”

“But we are so busy!” Odessa said, immediately thinking she must have done something wrong for her to be sent home earlier than she had been staying in previous days.

“Psshh,” Magda scoffed. “I can handle a whole garrison by myself, you think I need backup? Rumi and I’ll hold it down for the night. That brat owes me a favor anyway. Go call your dad and try to eat somethin’, okay? You’ve been on your feet all day.”

“So have you,” Odessa protested weakly as Magda set her hands on her shoulders and steered her toward the back rooms.

“Not another word,” Magda said.

79’s didn’t have a dedicated employee break room, but what it did have was a tiny, cramped office with a desk, a chair, and a beat up holocom that had certainly seen better years. Their boss used the office for crunching numbers whenever he was around, but the girls almost exclusively used it to take their breaks, eat, or even nap. The holocom itself served few purposes, but it could still make long distance transmissions with minimal hiccups and Odessa and the others were permitted to use it as long as they were off the clock. Since she didn’t own one herself, 79’s was one of the few places where she could make a call without having to wait in line or pay.

A heavy box of new tumblers sat on the only chair in the room, and while she waited for the holocom to boot up Odessa tidied up as much as she could so it didn’t look so much like a chaotic mess. Her father would certainly say something, like he had the last few times. First it was about the noise of laughter and shouting that couldn’t be drowned out even by the closed door (but there was a party that time too, and she couldn't have told the boys to be quiet), then it had been about the form fitting pants and low cut top that was part of her bartender’s ‘uniform’ (she had almost begged Rumi to come show off the same outfit, to prove it was, in fact, a uniform), and then it was about the bar itself, how demeaning and degrading it was of her to work in such an environment, where she would be exploited for her pretty looks and ‘exotic’ accent, no doubt. She could almost hear her father’s voice in her head and replay word for word the way he had lectured her each time, as though it was within her power to change things.

Too late, Odessa realized she was shaking. She looked down at her hands, watching the way her fingers trembled as she flexed them. Nothing like Cobra’s, firm and still even with five strong drinks already buzzing through his veins. She bet he was a fantastic field surgeon and all the men in his squad seemed to love him immensely, if the way they had kept hugging on him throughout the night had been any indication.

She wished she had some of that steadfastness now.

The holocom beeped to life, the screen lighting up with its usual dingy blue tint that washed out the entire room. Odessa exhaled forcefully and quickly started up the transmitter, inputting the code her father had sent her to establish the link to Ryloth. 

Just be cordial, she coached herself as she sat down in the chair, readjusting her lekku behind her back, then thinking better of it and pulling them over her shoulders to obscure the blouse she was wearing. The terminal chirped as it made its connection. Odessa swallowed and nervously shifted, hoping that the scanner on her end was also working, though she’d have no way of telling until—

“Odessa?” 

The sudden, harsh sound of her father’s voice made her flinch. 

“Can you see me? Is it working?”

A low hum emanated from the transmitter as it pieced together an image from the data gathered by its CPU; slowly but surely, a miniature copy of her father flickered into view, the reception making him appear a little wavy and slightly out of focus. Though less than half a meter tall, he managed to appear larger than life with his arms crossed over his chest and his long lekku draped over his shoulders. His presence filled the room, until Odessa felt like she was shrinking in on herself to escape his scrutiny. Though the hologram washed out the color of his skin and eyes, she could still feel the heat of his stare and knew that he was silently appraising her.

“Kora,” Odessa said in Ryl, smiling despite her apprehensions. “It’s so good to see you. I’m sorry I was—”

“Late,” he interrupted. “I expected you hours ago. You’re fortunate I was still around to take the call.”

Her smile faltered and she felt a sensation inside of her like the weight of a stone dropping into the pit of her stomach. Trust her father to immediately find something to criticize, despite the fact that it had been two months since they had last spoken.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “We’ve been so busy today, I didn’t think I’d find time. How have you been? I-I miss you. And Firith. Is he around?”

“Your brother is out scouting,” Silais said, inclining his head toward her. “I don’t know when he’s expected back; we’ve been maintaining comm silence for the past few weeks.”

“Oh…is everything alright?”

“There is a war going on.”

She flinched again without meaning to, taking hold of the ends of her lekku and pretending to play with them to quell her nervousness.

He can see you, a little voice said in the back of her mind. You can’t hide from him. He knows you’re on edge.

“I know,” she said, looking down in her lap. “You don’t have to treat me like I’m a child who doesn’t know anything.”

“You’re my child,” her father said with a little huff, “and I shouldn’t have to remind you. You know our transmissions can be tracked by the Separatists. I risk it every time we call.”

“I don’t want to argue,” Odessa said, even as guilt struck at her heart. “Can we just…have a nice conversation? For once? I want to know how you’re doing.”

Silais stared at her for a moment before sighing and dropping one hand to his hip. The other went to the back of his head, scratching at the bulbous junction of his lekku. She knew there was a lot on his shoulders—the worry he carried for her and her brother, the pressure coming down on him from Syndulla, and the stress that came from the war itself and not knowing if their people were going to be able to arm themselves well enough to fight back. Odessa knew it was her duty, as his daughter, to try and keep the peace between them as much as possible. He didn’t need any additional worries…but it wasn’t her fault that he talked to her the way he did.

“I’ve been doing about as well as can be expected, given the circumstances,” Silais eventually said. “There’s not enough to go around and for every supply drop that manages to make it past the Separatist blockade, there’s three more that fail. You remember how things were.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Odessa asked, her heart breaking thinking about her father and brother going without food or sleep. “I can try and pick up more shifts so I can send you credits for—”

“No,” he said sternly, holding up a hand to halt her in the middle of her sentence, “I sent you to Coruscant so you wouldn’t be affected by this. We’ll manage, like we always have.”

“I’d rather be back on Ryloth, with you, than here by myself,” Odessa admitted sullenly, biting her lower lip. “I wish you hadn’t sent me away.”

She almost hadn’t forgiven him for doing so. Barely a month after the violent passing of her mother, she had awoken one morning to find a bag packed and a transport waiting to take her off-world. If it hadn’t been for Firith begging her to go, for her own sake and for his, she would have fought for blood to stay. A part of her had even dared to hope that Silais would finally see reason and permit her to finally learn how to shoot, how to fight and scout so that she’d be of some use to the Rebellion…but she had been naive to think so. If anything, her mother’s death had only hardened his resolve. 

She could still remember how he had dragged her from their home, kicking and screaming, and forced her aboard the ship. He had stood over her and told her it was for her own good, that he wouldn’t lose her too, and that had been the end of it. She couldn’t think of the way Ryloth had looked in the viewport, getting smaller and smaller until they made the jump to hyperspace, without crying. Sometimes she still woke up at night, trembling and frightened, her face soaked with tears. Coruscant was nothing like Ryloth…and she missed home so dearly.

“I did what I had to do,” Silais said with a weary sigh. “I wish I could make you understand how difficult that choice was for me.”

Odessa wanted to snap back that it hadn’t seemed all that hard for him when he had tossed her into one of the transport’s seats and forcibly buckled her in, but thought better of it. She didn’t want to argue. She wanted to hear about his day and listen to him talk and pretend that he wasn’t thousands of lightyears away. She wanted to tell him about her work and studies and wanted him to tell her that she was doing a good job and that he was proud of her. She wished Firith was there to mediate; he was good at that sort of thing, always able to tell when tensions were running too high and butting in with a joke or a story. Odessa missed him and the way he’d hug her so tight, lifting her off the ground every time. 

“Maybe one day I will,” she said, trying not to make a face about it. “In the meantime you will be happy to hear that I’ve applied for the citizenship test. It’s still months away but I’ve gathered all the material and have been studying.”

“That’s good,” Silais said, and he did in fact look pleased with that news; his lekku twitched in a way that denoted relief, and the creases carved into his forehead from years spent worrying about everything he couldn't control smoothed out. “It’ll afford you better opportunities in the long run. Hopefully you won’t be forced to work at that bar for much longer.”

“I like the bar, actually,” Odessa said with a small smile that meant more to herself than anything else. “I like meeting new people and everyone’s been really nice. It’s a lot easier than I thought it’d be; the hardest part was memorizing the mixed drinks.”

“It’s beneath you,” Silais said with a frown. “A job like that only plays into the stereotypes about our people. Besides…I don’t like you hanging all those men.”

“Kora…they’re mostly clones, I told you. They’re just looking to drink, flirt, and maybe forget about the war for a little bit. They’re perfectly harmless.”

“Yes, harmless—until you wind up pregnant and alone.”

“Kora!”

Silais shrugged. It wasn't that he didn't like clones, or didn't trust them—the opposite, really. Like most Twi'lek he respected the clone army and the sacrifices they made, and had even gone so far as to suggest to Cham Syndulla that they be granted some sort of status on Ryloth once the war ended…but all that altruism bled out of him where his daughter was concerned.

"I'm not saying you'd fall for their charm," Silais said dryly, "but I'm sure others have. I just worry about you, that's all. You're a young woman, alone on a strange planet–"

"And whose fault is that?!"

"–living by yourself and working the kind of job that gets you into…situations. I really wish you'd try and find a roommate or–"

"That's not how the system works. I told you a hundred times: the housing allowance for individuals is based on marital status."

"Hm. Maybe I should have married you off before sending you away."

Odessa rolled her eyes, annoyed at the implication that he could just do as he pleased and she'd go along with it. Silais probably thought he was joking…but as usual, all his 'jokes' fell flat. Maybe he felt like he was trying to lighten the mood…but even his softest moments were ruined by his incessant need to micromanage. Sometimes she wondered if he had really meant to send her all the way across the galaxy, if only because it put her so far away from his ability to oversee every detail of her day-to-day life.

It was a mistake to call, she thought to herself as she pulled a container of dried jogan fruit from her backpack. Encouraging her father's lame attempts at humor was beyond her capabilities at the moment; her skin prickled every time he made a backhanded comment about the clones, too. None of the ones she had met had ever once made her feel like she wouldn't be safe in a room with them. She wasn't so air-headed to believe that they were all noble or anything like that…but she felt like she was a pretty good judge of character.

Besides…it wasn't like she had ever taken one of them back to her apartment.

Except Ghoul, the voice in her head reminded her. Almost Ghoul.

"Is there anything you can share that I can relay to our people at the refugee center?" Odessa asked, shoving that errant thought to the back of her mind and popping a piece of fruit into her mouth. "They're always asking me if I have any information from back home; it'd be nice to be able to tell them something, for a change."

Silais curled his finger against his lips and thought for a moment. 

"Syndulla is hopeful for the future," he said diplomatically. "Ultimately he believes we will be able to take back control of our homeland, and that everyone who has been displaced will be able to return to Ryloth."

"That's really vague," Odessa complained. "You can't say more? Please, Kora?"

"You're shameless," he groaned. "Fine. We recently came into possession of intel that will, in time, turn the tide of the war. Do not ask me for anything else. I've already said enough."

It still wasn't much, but Odessa was satisfied, knowing full well that any word was better than nothing. So many Twi'leks had been forced to flee Ryloth, and not all of them came through Coruscant; those who had looked to her to keep them updated on reports from home, only because of her father's position within the Rebellion. She had made no secret of who she was, feeling it was the very least Silais owed her for what he had done.

"They'll be so happy to hear that," she said. "No matter how long it takes, just to have hope is enough to keep them going."

"It's all we have," Silais said, softening. "Your…mother used to say that hope was the lifeblood of rebellions."

Odessa froze. Her father never brought up the subject of her mother, not on his own, not without heavy prompting. The wound her death had left on him ran deep, changing him from the inside out until he hardly resembled the kind and patient man she remembered from her childhood. For him to even mention her now…it brought an ache to Odessa's heart that stabbed like a knife, sharp and twisting until she felt like she couldn't breathe.

"She would know what to say," Odessa said, her voice warped with the effort it took not to cry.

Silais smiled and it was a small, pained smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"She always did."

"Odie!!"

The door to the office bounced open with the force of Rumi throwing her entire body against it, bursting into the room with an exuberant smile and no regard at all for privacy. Odessa scrambled to wipe her eyes and spun around in her seat, mildly horrified that her private conversation had been disturbed so violently.

"I am having a call, Rumi," Odessa hissed, but her coworker just laughed and shook her head so that her tendrils fanned out in every direction.

"Yeah, well your boyfriend just walked through the door and immediately demanded to know where you were, so I had to come tell you."

"'Boyfriend'?" Silais repeated behind Odessa, his tone back to its usual sharpness.

"I don't have a boyfriend," she said rapidly over her shoulder. The ends of her lekku curled in obvious happiness though, and she heard her father gasp in horror.

"He is not my boyfriend," she said to Rumi, glaring as the Mikkian giggled behind her hand. "Be minding your own business!"

"He took you out last time he was here," Rumi said, a mischievous grin on her face. "And he doesn't like anyone else, except you. I think it's cute!"

"Who is this man?" Silais demanded to know. "Where did he take you? Is he a clone?"

"Kora! I don't have a boyfriend, Ghoul's just a friend!"

"His name is Ghoul?"

"Anyway, he's probably waiting for you to serve him," Rumi kept on while Odessa just dropped her face into her hands with a groan. "He'll die of thirst if you don't get out there. Come on girl, break time's over!"

“Odessa,” Silais snapped the second Rumi closed the door behind her again, “is what she said true? Are you seeing someone? A clone?”

“She’s exaggerating,” Odessa said, stuffing her snacks back into her bag and scrambling to fix her uniform. “He is only a friend.”

No he’s not, her inner voice whispered.

“Why am I just now hearing about this?”

“Ugh, because it’s my life! I’m allowed to have friends and go places after work!”

Silais threw his hands up in the air and turned in a tight, frustrated circle, staring at her in disbelief as she shook all the contents in her bag to settle them before zipping it back up. Odessa’s heart throbbed in her throat—she couldn’t swallow around it, couldn’t breathe past it. Ghoul was there, and he had asked for her specifically. It wasn’t the first time a regular had requested her attention before, but it was…it was different this time. She had to get back out there, even if his order was the last thing she did before clocking out; no one else was gonna know what he liked without asking.

“I didn’t send you to Coruscant for you to traipse around the city with every soldier who tries to fill your head with their tales of glory,” Silais scolded her. Odessa wasn’t looking at him, but he sounded angry—angry enough that some petty part of her felt glad about it, like it served him right. 

“Then you shouldn’t have sent me here at all,” Odessa said, checking her reflection in the tiny mirror by the door. “I’ve been alone this whole time and I’m tired of it. I’m not going to isolate myself just to make you feel better for abandoning me.”

“I didn’t abandon you,” Silais whispered loudly. “How can you say that? I sent you away to protect you!”

“You weren’t ‘protecting’ me. You were a coward and you didn’t want me to end up like Mother!”

“Odessa, watch your tongue, before–”

“Which never would have happened if you had taught her how to shoot.”

As soon as the words left her mouth she wished she could take them back. The sharp inhale she heard her father take felt like it sucked all the air out of the room; the humming of the holocom transmitter and the muffled laughter from the bar were the only sounds between them. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bring herself to see the expression on his face—the one thing she knew she shouldn’t bring up, the one thing she knew ate at Silais every waking moment of his life…and she had weaponized it.

It had been a mistake to call. She should have left it for another time when she could make use of the free holocoms offered by some of the public service centers. It would have meant less privacy but she would have been far enough away from the bar that there wouldn’t have been any real distractions. Maybe they could have had a nice conversation—maybe Firith would have been back from his scouting mission, and he would have never let things get so…so bad. 

It’s too late, she thought to herself. Nothing can be done about it.

“I have to go back to work,” Odessa said softly. She tried not to think about how pathetic and small her voice sounded. “Give Firith my love. I’ll talk to you later.”

She didn’t hear anything for a moment…then came the sound of the call disconnecting. Somehow the silence Silais left behind was even louder. 

Odessa breathed a sigh of…something. Not relief. There was no solace to be found where her father was concerned, not when…not when their calls ended like that. The last time they had spoken had almost ended similarly, with Odessa being the one to cut the transmission because of the overbearing way he had criticized her choice to work at 79’s (for the hundredth time, it felt like), as opposed to something more ‘reputable’. No matter how many times she tried to tell him that her position at the refugee center was voluntary, it didn’t seem to get through his thick skull. Firith had been there that time and had managed to step in to keep them from going at each other’s throats, but there was only so much he could do.

Just forget about it, she told herself. Go back to work. Finish your shift. Go see Ghoul.

Ghoul.

Just the thought of him was enough to relax some of the tension that had built into her shoulders and ease the headache lancing through her lekku. It had only been fifteen rotations since he had taken her to the shooting range and showed her how to properly fire a blaster. Fifteen rotations since he had escorted her back to her apartment. Fifteen long rotations since she kissed him goodnight and watched him walk away with a giddiness in her chest that hadn’t ever abated. She wished she had thought to ask him for his commlink info before letting him leave; he didn’t seem like the kind of man to send spontaneous messages in the late hours of the night or anything, but Odessa would have liked the ability to just…tell him again how much she had enjoyed being taken out and taught a skill that, while no means perfect, was still more than her own father had done for her.

And…she would have liked to tell him how much she wanted to kiss him again, and more.

Odessa groaned and patted her cheeks, trying to ward off the immediate flush that colored her skin a slightly darker shade of bluish-green. She couldn’t afford to stand around wondering, She wanted to put the disaster of a call with her father behind her. She wanted to see Ghoul again and maybe talk to him before Magda dragged her out of 79’s by her lekku. Plus, it was still early enough in the day that she’d have plenty of time to stop by the refugee center to relay her father’s information to her people. Just the thought of their relieved faces and excited whispers was enough to send adrenaline racing through her veins.

Determined to end her day on a good note, no matter what, Odessa quickly threw her backpack into its corner and hurried back out to the bar, chewing on her lower lip as she scanned the floor—now packed to the brim with patrons—for her favorite clone. Thankfully, Ghoul wasn’t a difficult man to lose in a crowd. In fact, if she didn’t know any better she would have thought he had been waiting to catch her eye, for how quickly he seemed to look up and meet her gaze. He sat at a table in the corner, where he seemed to prefer to take his drinks, and was joined once again by Commander Wolffe. Odessa felt her heart somersault as Ghoul lifted a hand, giving a little half-wave in acknowledgement of seeing her. She smiled brightly, waving back before turning to grab a glass from the clean rack and the half full bottle of Catsblood from its shelf. 

I hope he’s not upset with me, she thought to herself as she carefully overpoured by just a smidge. 

It wasn’t that she actually thought he was, but…the last thing she had done was kiss him and she still didn’t know how he had felt about it. He hadn’t really kissed her back or anything, or made any sort of move or noise to indicate he had enjoyed it…but neither had he shoved her away or made a face or…anything, really. It had been an odd kiss compared to the ones she’d given and received before…but out of all of them she thought she had enjoyed it the most, for how sweetly deserved it had felt to give. Odessa knew if she wanted to assuage any of her fears then she really should have asked for his…oh, but she could ask for it now! 

The idea struck her like a lightning bolt, rendering her lekku stiff with excitement. She almost spun in place before putting the bottle of liquor back on the shelf, and then almost forgot to take the glass with her as she skirted her way through the employee gate and out onto the floor, dodging and weaving her way between clones and civilians alike before finally, finally making it over to where Ghoul sat with his brother.

He watched her approach, staring in that unblinking way of his that sometimes set her on edge. It almost reminded her of the way her father would stare at her when he was trying to subtly inform her that he was displeased, but with Ghoul she only felt like he was…studying her. Like he couldn’t quite put his finger on something that was bothering him. Odessa found she didn’t mind being the subject of his scrutiny, though she wondered what was going on inside his head when he looked at her. Did he…think she was pretty? Was he still thinking about the kiss she had given him too? Was he trying to figure out how to ask her about it? She wished he would, if only because not knowing how he felt about it was eating a hole inside of her.

“It is so good to be seeing you again,” Odessa said warmly as she reached their tableside. She deposited Ghoul’s drink in front of him and nodded politely at Commander Wolffe, who raised his own drink to her in greeting. “Rumi said you had not ordered yet—I hope I did not keep you waiting for very long.”

Ghoul shook his head and curled his hands around his glass, staring down into the drink. He didn’t look any different than he usually did, no new scars or anything obvious; she had to wonder what he had been up to for the past fifteen rotations, if he had been allowed to stay on leave for so long or if there had been another mission in the interim. To her eyes he looked good, well-rested and a little relaxed in a way that made her suspect he hadn’t been forced back on deployment; she could only tell because whenever he wasn’t scowling the little furrow between his brows disappeared, smoothing out his forehead and making him look slightly more approachable.

“Wasn’t long,” Ghoul said, the sound of his raspy voice, which she had come to enjoy the sound of, sending a shiver creeping through her. “Besides, you know what I like.”

“Anyone would know what you like, if you bothered to tell them,” Wolffe spoke up. He kept looking between them curiously, his cybernetic eye in stark contrast with the other, to the point where it seemed there was something on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to say but was refraining from doing so.

Ghoul shrugged and took a sip of his drink.

“The other one’s annoying,” he said sullenly. “Talks too much. Odessa already knows my order.”

“Careful there,” Wolffe said with a smirk, “you’re starting to sound like a regular.”

Odessa tried to keep herself from giggling, but only with monumental effort that didn’t extend to the very tips of her lekku, which convulsed prettily with how warm it made her feel to hear that Ghoul would rather wait to be served by her than bother talking to anyone else. How and when his rudeness had become an endearing trait was a mystery, but she didn’t care; it was nice to know that he felt comfortable enough to ask for her by name.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked, addressing Ghoul specifically. “My shift is almost over but if I am not minding staying over just a little bit if you are needing something else.”

“You’re leaving?” Ghoul asked, looking up at her with that wrinkle back between his brows again. “I thought…don’t your shifts normally…uh, last longer?”

“Normally, yes,” Odessa said, “but I have been working since the morning—since it is being so busy lately and there are only so few of us, we have all been scheduled longer hours.”

“Oh…,” Ghoul said, unable to hide the disappointment in his tone. “That’s…too bad.”

“He was looking forward to seeing you,” Wolffe said. Ghoul’s head shot up and Odessa watched him focus a glare so powerful on his brother that she wasn’t sure she’d survive being on the receiving end.

“Shut. Up,” Ghoul hissed, for all the good it did. For as long as she had known Wolffe, she had never known the commander to back down from anyone.

“It was his idea to come down here,” he forged ahead, meeting Ghoul’s glare with a smug look. “He practically dragged me.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“What? I’m right, aren’t I?”

Odessa covered her mouth with her hand to stop the laughter from bubbling forth. The way they acted with each other reminded her so much of herself and Firith, in a good way; the love between them was apparent, and Ghoul’s threat carried no weight behind it. It made her happy to know that he had someone else looking out for him, even if that someone was Commander Wolffe; he was still scary at times, very intimidating before he had his first drink, but even her perception of him had changed since Ghoul started showing up. Wolffe couldn’t possibly maintain his perfect image around his brother, not all the time.

“Well I am glad you came by,” Odessa said before Ghoul could crawl over the table and strangle Wolffe. “I…wanted to thank you again, for the lesson. It was very much fun.”

“Lesson?” Wolffe asked, his eyebrows arching in surprise. “What kind of lesson?”

“It’s nothing,” Ghoul said sharply. “Mind your own damn business.”

“He took me to a shooting range,” Odessa said, happily ignoring Ghoul’s warning signs. “I do not know my way around a blaster, but he showed me how to handle one safely—I even hit the target, though it took me many times. He is very patient.”

“That…doesn’t sound like him at all,” Wolffe laughed. “You sure you got the right guy? We all look alike, y’know.”

“I am positive,” Odessa said, smiling. “Ghoul is one of a kind. I could not be mistaking him for anyone else.”

Wolffe snorted into his drink and Ghoul jerked; a split second later Wolffe yelped, reaching beneath the table to grab at his leg, which Odessa realized Ghoul must have kicked. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, trying not to lose her composure directly in front of them, but this time her efforts failed and she let out a peal of sharp laughter that caught the attention of at least a few more clones. More importantly, it caught Ghoul’s attention. The very tops of his cheeks flushed, the color spreading quickly to his ears before he looked back down at the table.

“Fair enough,” Wolffe said, rubbing his shin. “Ghoul’s one of the best marksmen I’ve ever seen; you couldn’t learn from better.”

“I believe it. Uhm…I am hoping though…”

“Yeah?” Ghoul asked, looking back up, his expression just a little expectant, if she was not mistaken. She didn’t want to be. She wanted to be right, that she was able to read his face just a little better after the time they had spent together. It made her feel like…like that was something she had that very few others did, and that Ghoul allowed it because…because she had earned it.

“I am thinking it would be nice if…if I could be having your comm details,” Odessa said, a little breathlessly. She had to get the words out before she forgot, before she lost her nerve. She still didn’t know if Ghoul had enjoyed the kiss, but if he had come back, and if he had asked for her, then he couldn’t possibly be upset about it, right?

“My…my what?” Ghoul asked.

“Your commlink,” Wolffe said. “You know, the thing you used to wake me up before the sun had risen? Give her your transmission codes.”

Ghoul sat frozen in place, his eyes wide. Odessa watched him blink a couple times before he seemed to shake himself out of his daze long enough to reach for a pouch of his belt. She immediately fumbled for her own commlink, practically dropping it the moment she yanked it out of her back pocket. It was old and beat up, nothing like the sleek, newer models issued by the GAR, but Ghoul held his out for the sync and within just a few seconds she had managed to add him into her database of contacts. Her thumbs felt numb as she typed in the characters for his name—on the silliest whim imaginable, she added an extra symbol to mark him as a favorite.

“Thank you,” she said shyly, pulling one of her lekku over her shoulder and fidgeting with the end. “It will not be trouble if I am messaging you sometimes?”

“I…I don’t think so,” Ghoul said, all the bite gone from his voice as he stared down at his commlink. “I uh, get busy sometimes, though. I…I don’t—”

“That is okay,” Odessa hurried to say. “I just do not want to be a bother. But I like talking to you. It seems a shame I only get to do so when you come in for a drink; now there is no pressure!”

“You’re…not a bother,” Ghoul said, looking uncomfortable.

Her heart swelled and she could scarcely contain her joy, knowing he felt that way about her. It was almost as good as confirmation, in her mind.

“As painfully amusing as this is to watch…Odie, we’re not holding you up, are we?” Wolffe interrupted. 

Oh, yeah.

She looked back at the bar and winced when she caught sight of Magda staring at her, tapping her wrist to simulate the time. She still needed to wipe down the bartop, as promised. Normally it didn’t take much to force her out the door, but today she felt like dragging her feet or coming up with some kind of excuse so she could stay. 

The refugee center, she forcibly reminded herself. You have to tell them the good news.

“You will not leave again without telling me?” she asked Ghoul. He appeared surprised for a moment, then glanced at Wolffe, who shrugged.

“The missions I’m sent on are usually classified,” he said with a frown. “I can’t just tell you where I’m going.”

“Not where,” Odessa said. “Just…when you are leaving. I would just…like to know.”

“Why?”

This time it was Wolffe who kicked Ghoul under the table, except he didn’t try to make a secret out of the fact that he had done so.

“He’ll let you know,” Wolffe said as Ghoul cursed his name. “I’ll make sure to remind him when he gets his orders. Not everything he does requires absolute secrecy. He was on Ryloth for his last assignment.”

“Wolffe!”

“You were?” Odessa gasped. “You should have said so! Is…was it a secret mission? Were you successful? Did you get to meet with Cham Syndulla and the other leaders of the rebellion?”

In her excitement she didn’t really register the way Ghoul glared at Wolffe, or the way that he sighed before running his hand over the top of his head. What she did notice was the way his buzzcut looked fresh, with his hair shorn so close to his head she wondered what it felt like to touch.

“It…was classified,” Ghoul grumbled. “The news will pick it up soon though; they love ruining secrets.”

“It’s for morale’s sake,” Wolffe reminded him. “Sometimes it can be to the advantage to show your hand.”

“It’s premature,” Ghoul snarled. “All that hard work, and for what?”

“Knock it off. You knew this was gonna happen.”

“Excuse me,” Odessa said, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, “but is there…is there any way you could be telling me more? About your mission? Or Ryloth? Or anything? I am—it is only that I am going to the refugee center to drop off some documents for some of the new arrivals, and my people are eager for news from home as well. I would love so much to be able to offer them something to alleviate their fears.”

Ghoul seemed to be avoiding her gaze and she knew she should back off, that she didn’t understand the complexity of military operations and that maybe what she was asking was more than he was willing to give…but Odessa had to try. It was possible Ghoul had been part of the intel recovery that her father had mentioned—if that was the case, then who better to ply details out of than the very clone who had probably had a hand in securing the information?

“I…don’t know,” Ghoul said, rubbing the back of his neck now. “If someone heard you repeating details only I would know….”

“Then you should come with me!” Odessa said, immediately angling for another approach. “You could tell them yourself, be answering questions, and maybe getting to meet people whose lives you have helped save! What is that it is called, a winning scenario?”

“A win-win,” Wolffe corrected gently. “And that sounds like a good idea. Ghoul, you could use a pick-me-up. Why don’t you go with her?”

“We just got here,” Ghoul grumbled. 

“Not now,” Odessa said. “Tomorrow? I will be off in the morning and can be meeting you at the center! I will introduce you to everyone!”

“Uh….”

“Sounds like a plan,” Wolffe said, grinning. “I’ll make sure he remembers. Odie, you better get out of here. I think your coworker is having second thoughts about letting you leave.”

Odessa looked over her shoulder a second time and saw Magda waving a cleaning cloth wildly above her head, gesturing at the dirty counters. 

“Yes, sorry,” she said with a sigh. “Thank you so much, this will mean everything to my people. You will love to meet them, I am sure. And they will love to meet you too! I will comm you with the address! Please stay for as long as you want, and enjoy the drinks—Ma'allesh!”

Her steps felt so much lighter as she turned away from them, like she could run laps around the entire floor and work another whole twelve hour shift. How fortuitous, that Ghoul’s last deployment should have taken him to her homeplanet! She tried not to think about how he hadn’t mentioned it earlier, the last time they had seen each other, perhaps…but it didn’t matter now. He had agreed to visit the refugee center and she was certain that whatever tidbits he could reveal would be far more comforting than anything her father could have come up with. She didn’t even feel affected by the guilt that usually lingered within her chest after an unfortunate call from home.

Odessa hurried back to the counter and shrieked with a bit of laughter as Magda whipped her behind with the towel, taking it from her and hurriedly starting at the far end of the bartop, wiping aggressively as patrons dutifully lifted their drinks out of her way.

Tomorrow…tomorrow would be a better day. She was sure of it.

~~~

Two weeks of leave should have meant two weeks spent relaxing—sleeping in, catching up with Fox and Wolffe, replacing his old gear and testing the replacements, or even exploring Coruscant. Any of those options would have been better than what Ghoul was actually made to do, which was write up what felt like a hundred reports, all saying the same thing in different ways, to be passed along the chain of command, up to people he had never heard of, let alone met.

They wouldn't allow him a face-to-face meeting; he had exhausted any and all goodwill he might've once had among the upper echelon of the GAR.

You can't be trusted to not cause a scene, someone had said to him once before, some nameless face he hadn't bothered to pay any attention to. It was a fair assessment—Ghoul had no qualms about opening his mouth and telling the Admirals they were full of kark and their madcap schemes benefited no one outside of lining their own pockets with the credits they saved by being cheap. He'd look a Senator in the eye and tell them to go jump out a window if given the chance.

So, he shut up and spent two weeks writing multiple reports and resisting the urge to defect off to some unnamed planet past the Outer Rim. Two weeks of downtime, absolutely wasted, and all because a handful of idiots couldn’t be bothered to make time to be in the same room together in order to receive a debriefing. There were other things he could have been doing with his time but of all the things he could think of, Ghoul kept coming back to the one person who had managed to capture his attention so thoroughly that he had a hard time considering his other options.

More to the point, Odessa had kissed him…and he still couldn't figure out why.

She had kissed him, stood up on her toes and touched his face with a soft little hand that hadn’t made him flinch, and she had pressed her lips to his ruined face and kissed him like she didn’t mind the prosthetics, didn’t mind the scars—she had kissed him like he was whole and not some broken, patchwork mess of a man made up of spare parts, and he hadn’t known what to do except stand there and take it because…because it must’ve been a mistake…right? Just a…just a cruel joke.

No one could look at him and think he was someone worth kissing.

But…Odessa hadn’t laughed or made fun of him. The kiss itself hadn’t even lasted all that long before she had pulled away to bid him goodnight, but the brief contact had been enough to fill him with warmth all the way down to his toes. He remembered making it down the three flights of stairs and then sitting down on the bottom step because walking had been an impossibility with his head swimming like he had just been run over by a BARC speeder. For ten minutes he had sat there, staring at his boots and wondering if he should go back up and knock on her door so he could ask her what the hell she had meant by that…but in the end he had just returned to the barracks.

Ghoul had snuck off to the showers again, but that time, instead of running the cold water in an attempt to stave off the lust curling shamefully in his gut, he had edged himself painfully under a stream of the hottest water he could stand, imagining Odessa’s hand on his cheek, the tips of her fingers like bright points of fire against his skin, and he imagined the way she might have touched him in another life where he wasn’t damaged and could give her the kinds of things he guessed a man might give a woman.

No one had ever touched him like that. 

He had never been kissed before, by anyone.

Before Toydaria…like most of his brothers Ghoul had dreamt about what a normal life would be like, once the war ended, if it ever ended. He had allowed himself the luxury of a dream, just a small one, of someday being able to make his own choices in life, to live out the rest of his days as he saw fit. Maybe those daydreams had included someone else, someone who made him smile, who knew what love was and was only too happy to share it with him. He had been filled with the sort of romantic kark that a lot of clones experienced before their first battle—and like most of them, he had lost any hope of ever experiencing ‘normal’ again.

The war was all there was. 

All he had was himself to rely on. 

Before Odessa it had been easy to focus on himself and his purpose…but now he was left with an ache like an old wound inside of him and the ghostly sensation of hands on his face when he thought he was alone. Ghoul hadn’t told anyone else about the kiss—he knew Wolffe wouldn’t believe him and that Fox would only demand details; besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted to share with his brothers the memory of how it had felt…he held onto it, turning it over and over in his mind until he had analyzed every detail from every angle. It felt like a puzzle he had to solve, like he’d never be satisfied until he could understand why she had kissed him.

But for the life of him…he just couldn't figure it out.

And somehow it had led him back to 79’s, Wolffe at his side for support and the idea running around his head that if he saw her again, then maybe he’d find the courage to take her aside and ask her about it. Odessa didn’t seem like the kind of person who would lie to his face; he was confident he’d be able to tell even if she tried. Her expressions were so open and unguarded, made worse by the shape of her eyes. He had tried to compare the color of them to different skies he had seen on the multiple planets he had been to, but the memory of each one seemed more faded then the last until he became convinced that Odessa just had…the prettiest eyes he had ever seen.

He had been stricken when she had looked at him from across the bar, the first time he had seen her in two weeks since he had taken her to the firing range (two weeks since she kissed him, her lips soft and warm and he had only been able to feel so much with the scarring around his upper lip but he knew he was right), and her smile made him feel like a detonator had gone off inside of him.

Wolffe suspected something was up—he had to because there had never been a point where Ghoul had suggested they go to 79’s on his own; usually he was the one forced to tag along after his brothers, who both acted like there wasn’t any other bar on all of Coruscant. But if he thought something was up, Wolffe didn’t say anything about it and just joined up outside the base, where they walked in relative silence. He was dependable that way, always able to tell when Ghoul wanted to be alone with his thoughts and leaving him to them; the annoying little brother thing was partially an act, one that he put on hold…but only for so long.

Ghoul almost wished he had come alone after all. His mouth had dried up moreso than usual when he saw Odessa and by the time she made it over to their table he could tell that he should’ve just ignored the little voice inside his head that had convinced him it’d be no trouble to just ask her about the kiss. His courage failed him the moment he saw her.

She was just…she was pretty. She was pretty and kind and all the things that he had never been and never could be, and the thought of what she might say if he asked her about the kiss terrified him. It was better not knowing than hearing her admit that she had only done so because she'll pitied him…because it was so obvious he wasn’t getting any from anywhere else, so before he died he may as well know what it was like to kiss someone. A pity-kiss would be the worst-case scenario. He wouldn’t recover from that.

He didn’t want to know how repulsive she actually thought he was, either. Odessa only knew about his facial prosthetics; he was certain that if she could see his arm, or his fingers, she’d regret touching him to begin with. Some days he felt more machine than man…and that was okay for him to think…but if Odessa saw him and thought the same thing he knew he’d just end up ejecting himself out of an airlock. He hated the hold she seemed to have over him. It was the lack of control that had him so tense and on edge all the time. He wanted to hate her for it…but he couldn’t. 

He just couldn’t.

And now he had her commlink number, saved to his device under ‘Odie’ because Wolffe had snatched it from him the moment she had walked away from their table and saved it, starred it, added it to his list of important contacts—a list that, so far, had only ever included Wolffe and Fox—and then tossed the commlink back at him with such force he had nearly missed the catch.

“You’re an idiot if you let her get away,” Wolffe said, as serious as Ghoul had ever seen him. 

“She’s not into me,” he retorted.

“Your eyes malfunctioning?” Wolffe laughed. “You’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to think that. She just asked you for your comm-code. She was blushing. Can you even read lekku?”

“No,” Ghoul said, feeling every bit the idiot Wolffe said he was, “why would I?”

“Because if you did, you’d be able to tell how happy she was to see you. How were you on Ryloth for two whole months and managed not to pick up a bit of the language?”

“I didn’t try.”

“You should. You might learn something. I bet Odie would appreciate the gesture, too.”

“What does it matter?" Ghoul asked. “It’s not like this is going anywhere. I just took her to the firing range. You’re acting like it was a date.”

“Why did you take her?” 

“...because she doesn’t know how to shoot."

“That can’t be it,” Wolffe said, leaning against the edge of the table. “You’re telling me you put a blaster in her hands and made her practice just because she didn’t know how? Come on."

He wanted to insist that it was the only reason, but Wolffe would see right through him. They knew each other too well for a lie to fly under the radar like that, so Ghoul sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"She's defenseless," he admitted. "She walks everywhere alone, down to that club and who knows where else, but she doesn't even carry a taser. Coruscant's only safe on the surface levels—down below you know what happens. She could be…trafficked or killed, or…worse."

"You're…worried about her," Wolffe said, surprised. "Huh. I…didn't think you had it in you."

"I'm not a monster," Ghoul mumbled. "She deserves to feel safe, that's all."

"...you know she's an immigrant, right? Legally she can't apply for a blaster license."

Ghoul avoided Wolffe's questioning gaze, instead choosing to take a long sip of his Catsblood, until he felt his eyes begin to water from the burn he felt at the back of his throat.

"Wait," Wolffe said, squinting at him with a suspicious look, "you're not…you're not planning to buy one for her, are you?"

Ghoul shrugged.

"How's anyone gonna know unless she has to use it?" he said.

"Ghoul, if you're found out that's a felony at best. You'll be lucky if all they do is slap you in stasis cuffs."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

Wolffe sat back, blinking like something was caught in his eyes. Ghoul had never seen his brother rendered so speechless before, but it was starting to get on his nerves. Why did everyone think he was incapable of common decency? Just because he didn't often show it didn't mean he was completely heartless.

"You must really like her," Wolffe said finally, after taking a moment to gather up his composure. "You've always been a maverick, but not like this. Not for a civvie."

Ghoul looked over at the bar where Odessa had finally finished wiping down the counters. She had her backpack slung over her shoulder and looked like she was thanking the older woman who had shouted at them to find a seat the moment they had walked through the door. He guessed it must have been a trick of the light or something, but he thought he caught her glancing over at them. She looked…happy.

"Maybe," he acquiesced, feeling the fight leave his bones when Odessa smiled at something her coworker said. She had a dimple in her left cheek.

"Kark," Wolffe cursed, finishing off his drink in one big gulp. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Yeah, well…don't get your hopes up," Ghoul sneered. "Like I said, it's not going anywhere."

"How come?"

"...are you serious?"

Ghoul gestured angrily at his face, the ugly prosthetic that made up for half of it, the scarring around his cybernetic eyes and the hearing aids he'd be deaf without.

"You think she wants any of this? Look at me—I'm a mess."

"You're not," Wolffe said, "and you need to get that kark outta your head before you sabotage yourself. She likes you. It's painfully obvious. Watching you two awkwardly dance around exchanging comms was the cringiest thing I've ever witnessed, and I've broken in three batches of shinies across five different campaigns."

"She doesn't know me," Ghoul insisted. "She doesn't know what I'm really like. I'd just end up…scaring her away."

"Well, don't do that," Wolffe laughed. "How hard is it to just be decent for once?"

"That's easy for you to say," Ghoul snapped. "You don't look like a failed Techno-Union experiment."

"Hey," Wolffe said sharply, tapping on the table, "who're you trying to convince? 'Cause from where I’m standing, the only person who thinks you don’t have a chance is you.”

The worst part about sharing a genetic profile with someone else, Ghoul decided, was that it became impossible to convince either of his brothers that he was incapable of anything other than being an insufferable bastard. Fox was a little hapless when it came to compliments, but Wolffe was relentless, insisting on hyping Ghoul up every chance he got. It was…infuriating.

It was infuriating…and he wanted so badly for Wolffe to be right.

“She…she kissed me,” Ghoul said, spitting the words out before he could change his mind. “After I walked her home. She kissed me. On the mouth.”

Wolffe’s jaw dropped.

“She kissed you,” he said, enunciating every word, “on the mouth…and you still think you don’t have a chance?”

When he laid it out so plainly…it did sound stupid. Ghoul tucked the lower half of his face into the crook of his arm and leaned against the table, wishing the floor would just open up and suck him beneath it. He heard Wolffe sigh and felt his foot nudge between both of his own beneath the table. The ice cubes in the empty glass clinked against one another as they began to melt. 

“Can I be honest with you?” Wolffe asked.

Ghoul shrugged, resigned himself to listening to whatever it was that his brother was going to say. He didn’t have the wherewithal to put up a resistance anymore.

“You’re making this a lot harder than it has to be,” Wolffe continued once he saw no objection coming his way. “She likes you—she obviously and unequivocally likes you. If you like her back, all you have to do is just…go with the flow. No expectations, just…try to relax, enjoy yourself, and have a bit of fun. Follow her lead if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“And after that?” Ghoul croaked. “What do I do after?”

“You just make it up as you go along,” Wolffe chuckled. “Listen, I’m no expert either, but I’ve got a few notches on my belt and…it doesn’t need to last a long time for it to be fun. And who knows? Maybe it’ll turn into something more.”

Ghoul didn’t want to think that far ahead, not when he could scarcely wrap his mind around the present revelation of Odessa actually liking him. He still wasn’t sure he could believe it, not fully at least. 

“Guess I’ll try and find out tomorrow,” he groaned, sitting back up. “I think…I think I’m gonna head out. I don’t feel like drinking anymore.”

“I’ll cover the tab,” Wolffe said, almost immediately. “But I’m gonna stay for a bit.”

“You…want me to, uh–”

“No,” Wolffe said, glancing up at him. “It’s fine. Just…wanna think about things and be alone. Nothin’ about you, I promise.”

If it was a promise made by Wolffe, then it was a promise Ghoul knew he could trust. He nodded and slid out of the booth, almost tripping onto his face when Wolffe suddenly hooked his foot behind Ghoul’s knee.

“Watch your back out there,” he said with a smirk as Ghoul violently untangled their legs before aiming a harsh kick at his thigh. It missed the mark but his intention was clear, and Wolffe made a rude gesture that was accompanied by a wink before tossing Ghoul’s helmet at him.

“Too bad you didn’t drown in your tube,” Ghoul sputtered.

“And miss out on all the action?” Wolffe scoffed. “Please. You couldn’t get rid of me that easily.”

Brothers, Ghoul thought sourly as he stalked out of the bar and back to the barracks.

Odessa didn’t contact him as soon as he thought she might have, but when he awoke in the morning there was a notification on his commlink indicating he had an unread message from a new contact. Still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Ghoul opened it and recognized the address almost immediately for how close it was to the Senate tower. It was far enough from the base to necessitate utilizing the public transport system, a prospect that made the fine hair on the back of his neck stand on edge. He hated the idea of being pressed between so many bodies and crushed together in so small a space…but he figured if he wore his full kit it wouldn’t be so bad, especially with his helmet on. 

Hopefully Odessa wasn’t expecting him to dress down. 

The lift across the city he managed to ignore by going through everything that had happened during his deployment to Ryloth, trying to filter through events that were still statused as classified and the other, less mission critical things that he could get away with revealing to a bunch of civvies. He was still apprehensive about it, didn’t like the idea of information passing into the wrong hands…but if it was just a load of Twi’leks whom Odessa trusted…well, he was already willing to take on one major risk for her sake. What was another thrown into the mix?

Odessa was already waiting for him out front, sitting on a bench in the shade with her backpack next to her and a datapad in her hands. He’d have seen her from a kilometer away with all the skin she was showing, but the dress she wore was also bright, a yellow color that complimented her skin tone. It fluttered in the slight breeze, billowing around her knees until she tucked the edge under her thighs. He didn’t know anything about style or fashion…but it was a good look. Odessa probably knew how to make anything look nice, though.

Being the only trooper around, it didn’t take long for her to spot him. He was already making his way over when she jumped up, stuffing her datapad back into her bag and then running across the plaza to meet him with a smile as dazzling as the sun. She was so pretty that Ghoul felt his heart stutter in his chest at the sight of her. He liked the particular shade of her skin especially, and the way her lekku swayed every time she moved her head. 

“I am so glad you have made it!” she said excitedly as she stopped in front of him, clasping her hands together and bouncing in place. “The address was not too difficult to find?”

“I’m familiar with the area,” Ghoul said, the vocoder in his helmet making his voice sound even grittier than it already was. He pointed toward the Senate buildings looming in the distance, monoliths of ‘democracy’ and ‘freedom’ he was supposed to look toward with respect and gratitude.

“I’ve been up there more times than I care to admit, just to deliver reports,” he said. 

“Oooh,” Odessa cooed, her eyes widening. “That is exciting! I have never been—there is nothing there for someone like me anyway, but one day you must tell me what it is like on the inside!”

Boring, came to mind. Too luxurious for my tastes. A waste of funds that would be better spent helping out good people like you.

“It’s not that impressive,” he said. “You’re not missing out on anything.”

Odessa giggled even though he hadn’t said anything funny and Ghoul wondered if the way the ends of her lekku curled said anything. Ryl language packs could be requested through the GAR itself, but according to Wolffe, what Twi’leks did with their lekku wasn’t universally recognized as a language and therefore had to be picked up colloquially…and if one didn’t possess lekku themselves it was seen as a moot point. The only person Ghoul could think of who might have some insight on how to go about figuring out where to start learning on his own…was Captain Howzer.

Ghoul was glad for his helmet in the moment—it hid his sneer and saved him from having to explain to Odessa why his mood visibly tanked. He’d have to figure out something else eventually, if he planned on actually making the effort to learn more about her culture. There was absolutely no way he was going to ask Howzer for advice.

“Well,” Odessa said, breaking him free of his sour thoughts, “shall we go in? I am excited to be introducing you!”

Ghoul’s apprehension returned, like a pile of slick Trandoshan eels writhing and rolling around in the pit of his stomach. He still didn’t think it was a good idea, but he had already had it out with himself while he was getting ready. Staring down his reflection in a mirror and refusing to disappoint Odessa even though what she had asked of him was…it should have been an easy ‘no’...but he couldn’t do it.

For some reason he just couldn’t look her in the face and turn her down, when the favor she asked of him was…really, it was simple, so small a thing it shouldn’t have been such a big deal. His training was deeply ingrained, however; obedience was something built into every single clone, buried somewhere in the very strands of their DNA. He hated it, fought back against it every chance he got, but there were some things he couldn’t let go of and giving up sensitive information was at the top of that list.

But Wolffe had been right—already several news channels had picked up stories from Ryloth and without saying much had already planted the seed in people’s heads that the Republic Army had something to do with the recent strike the Twi’lek rebellion had made against the Separatist forces. Ghoul figured that he didn’t need to give the refugees a blow-by-blow account to set their minds at ease. It wouldn’t be like those reports he had been forced to write…and at least…maybe this was an audience who’d be a little more appreciative of his efforts.

“Let’s get this over with,” Ghoul sighed, steeling himself. He followed Odessa up to the doors of the Center for Inter-Planetary Affairs and then inside, where she called out to a man sitting behind a counter and glass partition. He glanced up and then balked at the sight of Ghoul, who probably looked out of place dressed in full gear. Again, he was glad for the helmet to hide his face. He didn’t like the way the man stared, but it was the harmless sort that came from being surprised by the sight of a trooper so far from the base. He tried nodding, as if he intended to greet the man, and that seemed to do something to alleviate the man’s misgivings. 

“Uh, guest pass?” the man asked, and Odessa held a finger to her lips. 

“It is a surprise visit,” she said in a conspiratorial tone. “We will not be very long; please keep it to yourself?”

“Y-yeah, I guess,” the man said, shaking himself. “You, uh, know about the other visitors? They’ll be on their way soon.”

“We will not be bothering anyone except my people,” Odessa said, charming her way past a second set of doors that looked like they were meant for employee use only. Ghoul had to turn sideways to fit through the narrow door frame, but he followed after Odessa quickly and quietly, to put as much distance between himself and the employee as possible.

“Thought you said you talked to them already,” he complained, hating the way it made him feel to catch unwanted attention like that.

“My people, yes,” Odessa admitted, “but no one else knows you are here. They would have had us fill out paperwork for hours had they known. But I am always coming and going, so they allow me a little bit of leeway.”

“Oh,” Ghoul said, his stomach churning all over again. “You won’t get in trouble for this?”

“No, they would not dare. I am saving them a lot of time and credits by volunteering my time and services. Without me they would need to hire a translator, so they will be looking the other way sometimes when I show up unannounced. Will you be taking off your helmet? It is not uncomfortable?”

He hadn’t planned on it. The helmet was one of the only things that could still render him just another number among thousands of other clones. Even if his armor wasn’t the standard-issue, there were plenty of other spec-ops who bore the same kit, making it more difficult to pick him out in a lineup—not by much, but it offered just enough protection to give him some peace of mind. Once the helmet came off, that illusion of safety was shattered. 

“Do I have to?” he asked, fighting back the combative instinct rising up inside, making him want to abandon the entire ordeal and head back to the barracks. 

Odessa looked up at him with her head tilted to the side in that way that made her look especially curious.

“Are you not wanting anyone to see you?” she asked gently. “I did already tell them they should not ask rude questions.”

Ghoul’s throat worked uselessly as he tried to swallow and couldn’t. Frustration, the feeling he was most familiar with, made his skin itch as he tried to think of an excuse that didn’t make him sound…pathetic.

“Just…don’t wanna scare anyone,” he said lamely, after coming up with nothing better.

Odessa blinked a few times before offering him a small smile. Normally it was easy for Ghoul to tell when someone felt sorry for him—it was a sad, pitying look he just knew made them feel so noble and good about themselves. He knew they thought he should be so grateful for their compassion, but it was always unasked for and unwanted. They could take their self-righteous sympathy and shove it up their ass.

But, try as he might, Ghoul couldn’t find any sign that Odessa pitied him. She just smiled softly, the curve of her lips very slight, almost gentle, like she understood him in a way that no one else did.

“You do not have to,” she said. “If it will make you more comfortable to keep it on, then do so. No one will object”

There was no sign on the door to dictate what he should or shouldn’t do, and if she didn’t care then he was going to keep it on. Still, he felt…relief at having been given the choice. For a moment he thought she was going to insist…but she managed to surprise him again. She was good at that.

“Thanks,” he said, meaning it. 

“You are welcome. Now, follow me closely; there are many people here, but most are staying with their own species. Ignore everyone else.”

She pushed through another employee door at the end of the short hallway, leading them into an enormous room that made the mess hall back on base look like a custodial closet. Ghoul didn’t know where to look first, but the first thing that caught his attention were the rows upon rows of bunk beds, not unlike the same ones issued to the GAR that he and thousands of other clones slept in every night. At a glance he thought there had to be a few hundred of them, and every single one sported the same dingy mattress and dull gray sheets, as well as a single pillow too flat to be of any real comfort. Piled around each pair of bunks were bags and small storage crates—personal belongings, he realized.

The bunks gave way to an open area where he saw a gaggle of children playing, kicking a ball around and passing it back and forth as their guardians watched them from chairs and tables nearby. At the far end of the hall sat a long row of counters Ghoul almost immediately recognized as the same kind of setup back on base for the mess hall. It seemed like they had tried to cram as much as they could into the room to try and utilize every millimeter of space they had…and as he continued to look around, Ghoul realized that it still wasn’t enough. 

There were so many people. 

He could see everything from Bothans to Mon Calamari scattered about the room, and a little bit of every other species sprinkled in between. There were only a few he didn’t immediately recognize, and a few that surprised him like to see, like the giant Wooke who nearly ran him over as they chased after a couple of squealing younglings. It was a rare sight to see a Wookie anywhere else but Kashyyyk. 

The murmur of conversation flowed around him—he caught snippets of Huttese, Kenari, and Rodian, but mostly broken strings of Basic. He understood a few languages, as most clones had been encouraged to pick up at least one other besides Basic, but Mando’a was more for his own personal, private use than anything, and Huttese only came in handy when he was dealing with lowlife scum closer to the Outer Rim. 

Should have picked Ryl, he thought to himself as Odessa led him to a far corner where a handful of Twi’lek were already gathered around in a circle, seemingly waiting for them to arrive.

“Juun!” Odessa called out, capturing the attention of one of the male Twi’lek. He turned to look, his expression shifting from mild annoyance to outright joy as he caught sight of her, and he stood up, throwing his arms wide in greeting.

“Odessa, Kassurra!” he said, hugging her when Odessa got close enough. 

“Kei’nata nei,” she replied, returning the hug with enthusiasm. Several other Twi’lek got up from their seats to greet her and a couple children threw their skinny arms around her waist to hang off of her. Ghoul watched the reunion, feeling like an outsider intruding on something he wasn’t meant to see. Odessa was…clearly beloved. The looks on their faces said more than words ever could and he guessed that all her time and effort spent volunteering must have really paid off for them to treat her with such regard.

Odessa gestured back to him as she spoke to her people—they spared him curious glances, but thankfully paid more attention to whatever it was that she was saying. Ghoul didn’t think there was going to be much he could offer them. He had a mental list of things he was willing to divulge, but he sincerely doubted it would be enough to bring them any sort of relief. After all, they were stuck living in cramped quarters with no real privacy of their own. It reminded him of the conditions he and his fellow clones were forced to live in…but he was a soldier. The cacophony of noises surrounding them wasn’t unlike the sort of thing he was used to ignoring in the barracks, along with the scent of so many bodies sharing so little space. 

"Ghoul?"

He flinched and looked up, realizing that Odessa and all the other Twi'lek were staring at him…waiting on him. Beneath his blacks he could feel sweat drip down the small of his back.

"Didn't wanna interrupt," he managed to say. 

Odessa bought it—of course she did—and gestured for him to step forth. He did, one foot at a time, each one dragging like it weighed a ton. He saw her hand reaching for him, her fingers finding the space between his vambrace and rerebrace and curling into the crook of his elbow. He shuddered at her touch, but didn't shy away from it. She was gentle, guiding him alongside her as she stepped into the center of the little gathering. 

"You are not interrupting," she said softly, squeezing him in reassurance. Ghoul had never been more grateful that she had chanced to take hold of him by his left arm instead of the cold and unfeeling right.

“I can’t say much,” he reminded her, trying to ignore all the expectant eyes looking his way. 

"I already told them. They are grateful regardless. Anything you can reveal would mean the world to them."

"I don't speak Ryl."

"I will translate," Odessa said with more patience than he would have had. She looked up at him, her eyes scanning across his helmet's visor until he wondered if she could somehow see through the dark lens.

"Do not be nervous," she said, squeezing him again. "I am right here with you."

Damnit.

"Uh…right," Ghoul said, simulating a cough to give himself room to start. He quickly filtered through his mental list of what he thought was acceptable to share and took a deep breath.

Across the room, doors hissed open and he heard the exclamations of more than a few people. He couldn’t help but glance over…and immediately wished he hadn’t.

He’d recognize those brown robes anywhere.

“Uh,” he said again, stiffening up. Odessa noticed, because how could she not, with the way his whole body tensed at the sight of the two Jedi who swept into the room amid a chorus of eager cries and salutations, like they were saviors come to liberate the refugees from their sorry existence. She looked over, following the tilt of his helmet until she too caught sight of them.

“Ghoul?” she asked, squeezing his arm. “Are you alright?”

I’m fine, he tried to say, but no sound came out. 

He hated Jedi—he hated them and their over-inflated sense of self-importance and he hated the way they acted like they knew better than everyone else, just because of some mystical connection to ‘the Force’, whatever that was. They claimed not to be soldiers, but they expected clones to follow their lead on the battlefield regardless. They played games, spoke in riddles, and acted like every life lost was ‘the will of the Force’. The entire order could burn down to the ground for all he cared, as long as they stayed the hell away from him.

Odessa wouldn’t know that though, because he had never mentioned it. 

He never wanted to, and in a perfect world where everything went his way he never would.

But the Jedi circled closer, hands tucked into the wide sleeves of their robes and benevolent smiles on their faces like they were doing some great service gracing the center with their presence. He wanted to vomit.

“Ghoul,” Odessa said, shaking his arm a bit. The Twi’lek she had addressed first, Juun, said something in Ryl and then grimaced.

“Is he…well?” he asked in Basic, his accent thicker than Odessa’s.

“I do not know,” she said. 

“Fine,” Ghoul finally bit out. “I’m…I’m fine. Just…I have to go.”

“What is happening?” Odessa pressed, concern making her eyebrows knit together. She hadn’t let go of him and even though she only touched him through the protective layer of his blacks, Ghoul felt his skin start to crawl. There were too many people around, too much space and not enough of it at the same time. Every step the Jedi took that drew them closer made Ghoul feel like he was being boxed in, cornered. He looked around, trying to find the door they had come in through, but there was a throng of people blocking his line of sight.

Unease started to devolve into panic and he tried shaking Odessa off. 

“You are not okay,” she said, letting go of his arm immediately when it became apparent that something was wrong. “Is it the Jedi? If they are bothering you I will talk to them, perhaps they can—”

“No,” Ghoul snapped, “Just…just shut up. I don’t need you to do anything. Don’t talk to them, don’t even…just leave me alone for a minute. I have to…have to….”

He didn’t want to look at the hurt on her face when he spoke to her like that. Odessa didn’t deserve any of his ire, but she was the one who was closest, making herself a convenient target with the way she tried to console him. There was nothing she could do, nothing that would make things right. She didn’t understand and he wasn’t going to waste his breath trying to explain even if she went over and told the Jedi to get lost, it wouldn’t change anything. 

She couldn’t change the past.

“I think you are needing to sit down,” she insisted. “Take off your helmet. I will get you something to drink.”

“No,” he growled, pushing her hand away when she tried to take hold of his arm again. He didn’t want to sit down. He needed to leave. The other Twi’lek were looking at him strangely, as well as some of the other people closest. Ghoul was aware that they could hear him, see him, and that he was beginning to draw too much attention to himself. If he acted out anymore the Jedi would take notice and come over to stick their noses where they didn’t belong, and then—

“Can you lift me?” 

“Yes, of course. You don’t look that heavy.”

“No, with magic!”

“It’s not magic, little one, but the Force.”

“Use it to lift me!”

Ghoul squeezed his eyes shut and tried to drown out the sounds of children begging the Jedi to regale them with their mystical party tricks. They were too close now, much too close for his liking. His finger twitched, but he had left his blaster back at the barracks, for safety; he hadn’t expected to need it. He didn’t need it. He wasn’t in danger. He knew this, he knew it, but—

“Ghoul,” Odessa, pleaded, both of her small hands curling around one his, cradling it tight. He hadn’t moved at all, just stood there, paralyzed by something he couldn’t explain, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

You need therapy, Wolffe’s voice called out to him, but it was so far away, so distant he knew his brother couldn’t help him, didn’t even know where he was.

“I have to leave,” he whispered.

“Show us your light sword!”

“I don’t know…it isn’t a toy.”

“Don’t be so rigid, they’re only curious. Here, you all may look, but no touching.”

PSSHEEWW

The sound of the lightsaber ignition drowned out everything else. So close, Ghoul felt as though he could hear it inside his head and all throughout his bones, like the hum of the blade was something tangible eating its way underneath his skin.

Suddenly, he wasn’t on Coruscant anymore. He wasn’t safe inside a refugee center, Odessa’s hands wrapped around his. 

When Ghoul opened his eyes, the only thing he could see…was Toydaria, the swampy, muggy landscape on fire around him and the bloodied, shattered bodies of his men, his brothers, littered at his feet. He balked as he looked around, not understanding how he had ended up back there when he had sworn never to step foot on that planet again, no matter what kind of orders he received. Separatist ships screamed overhead, flying so low he could feel the vibrations from their repulsor engines through his boots…or maybe that was the distant explosions caused by proton torpedos slamming into the ground.

He tried to suck in a breath, tried to activate his commlink to call for an extraction, but his arm didn’t move. He tried again and pain shot up his shoulder and into his ribs; when he looked down, he saw why—his arm didn’t move because it wasn’t there. All that was left was the bloody and charred stump, the bone jutting through his skin.

Ghoul tried screaming, but that didn’t work either. All that emanated from his mouth was a wet, rasping gurgle and too late he realized his mouth was gone, bottom jaw and tongue ripped away in an explosion he hadn’t even seen. Blood and gore drenched his chestplate, soaking into his blacks and sticking to his skin. He couldn’t even feel pain anymore, couldn’t feel anything at all, just the steady hum of a lightsaber in his head, the whooom sound it made when swung and screams echoing in the distance.

They were dead, his men were all dead and he was too, he was dying and no one cared, no one cared enough to stop it from happening. 

“Commander,” he heard from somewhere by his feet.

He looked down and stared into the deathly pale face of one of his brothers, a clone whose name he could no longer remember, blood bubbling out from between his lips in a frothy pink mess. He grabbed at Ghoul’s boot, broken fingers scrabbling for purchase against his greaves. 

“It’s okay,” he slurred, “they can always make more of us.”

Ghoul took a step back and stumbled, his foot slipping against mud…except it wasn’t mud. Slick, crimson lengths of ropey intestines spewed over the ground, the mangled bodies of his unit strewn in front of him, all of them looking at him, through him, their eyes glassy and pale and rimmed with blood.

“They’ll just make more,” they spoke as one, their voices coalescing into a polyphonic chorus that threatened to overwhelm him. Ghoul tried to clap his hands over his ears but he couldn’t—it wouldn't have mattered if he could.

The voices came from within.

“Ghoul!”

“Leave me alone,” he groaned. “Please, just leave me alone!”

Hands pulled at him, trying to drag him down into the muck; he resisted at first, but then thought…why should he? He belonged there with them, dying alongside his brothers as had been intended. It was only luck that had saved him, luck and…and….

The hands tugged at him harder and he gave up, his feet moving freely as he allowed himself to be pulled.

But instead of going down to be buried beneath the still warm bodies of his unit, the hands tugged him sideways, away from the field of carnage, away from the pained screams and the distant explosions that sent a ringing through his ears until it overtook everything else, mercifully silencing even the sound of the lightsaber. Eventually Ghoul felt something solid at his back and hands prying his helmet off his head; it was then he began to thrash—the helmet was the only thing keeping him together, keeping him from falling apart—what was left of him would come undone if they removed it.

I don’t wanna die, a tiny little voice whispered in the back of his mind. I haven’t lived long enough, I don’t wanna die!

But he couldn’t fight what he couldn’t see and the hands were too insistent—the helmet came off and a bright light assaulted his eyes. Ghoul gasped, then yelled unintelligibly, his voice strangled. 

Kamino.

He was back on Kamino and they were killing them. 

The clones who were left alive, who somehow survived alongside him, the longnecks were murdering them. He held his arms up, trying to fend off the hands that wanted to inject him with needles, sending him into a dreamless sleep from which he’d never wake, but he was too weak from blood loss. He couldn’t scream, couldn’t fight, couldn’t breathe, and they were going to kill him too, because what good was he anymore?

“Shhhh,” a voice said. “It is okay. Breathe. You are safe!”

He didn’t believe it. He wasn’t any safer in the hands of the Kaminoans than he was on the battlefield. No one understood, no one knew what they were really capable of. He couldn’t breathe. There was just wet wheezing when he tried, like his lungs couldn’t get full enough to exhale and his heart, beating so fast he thought it was going to burst out of his chest at any moment. The hands touched his face and he jerked like he had been shot, trying to pull away, but then he felt himself being pulled down and felt his forehead…felt it touch someone else’s.

Wolffe? he wondered. Fox?

“You are safe,” the voice repeated. “I am here, I will not let anything happen to you.”

Ghoul gasped, trying to wrench his head away, but he couldn’t move. His body felt too heavy and none of his limbs wanted to obey him anymore. The ringing in his ears lessened, replaced with the pounding of his heart and the sounds of his own voice, wretched and embarrassingly loud as he sobbed. He managed a blink and his eyes felt wet—too late he realized he was crying, tears streaming down his cheeks and neck. He blinked again, trying to focus his eyes long enough for his brain to make sense of what he was seeing.

It wasn’t Toydaria, nor was it Kamino. 

It was…a dirty back alleyway on Coruscant, duracrete beneath his boots and at his back, the sun shining overhead…and Odessa in front of him, her hands cupped around his face and her forehead pressed to his. Her eyes were shut and she bit into her bottom lip, pressed so close to him that she was practically sandwiching him against the wall…but for some strange reason…her proximity didn’t feel so suffocating.

“Take deep breaths,” she whispered. “With me. Try to follow along. In…and out.”

She drew in a slow breath and Ghoul tried to copy her, gasping painfully as he tried to remember how his body was meant to work. 

He was safe, she said. 

They both exhaled at the same time, Odessa’s slow and steady while Ghoul erupted into a coughing fit. She was patient though, so patient and she held onto him, looking him in the eyes and thumbing the patches of skin along his cheekbones to wipe away his tears.

“Again,” she urged, and this time when he inhaled it didn’t hurt so much. His lungs filled and the lightheadedness he had begun to feel went away. He exhaled shakily, ahead of her prompting, and then inhaled again. He could breathe. He could breathe. He wasn’t bleeding or dying. He was safe.

He was alive.

Odessa never left his side. Her hands fell from his face to his shoulders once the worst of the panic attack had abated, but she stayed pressed against him like she knew the pressure of her small body against his would be enough to ground him back in reality. She didn’t say much, but watched him carefully, like she was looking for any signs of further distress. He almost couldn’t bear the weight of her eyes on him…in some way it was more painful than what he had just experienced.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Odessa eventually asked, once his breathing had returned to mostly normal. “Water? Something to eat?”

“N-no,” Ghoul managed to say, despite the components of his lower jaw feeling like they were about to overheat from friction. “I’m…I’m good.”

“That is a lie,” Odessa snorted. “I am seeing that now. You like to say you are fine when you are not. You were not ‘good’ just a few minutes ago.”

Ghoul didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say, outside of apologizing to her for exposing her to his…his issues. Shame curled around his neck like a hangman’s noose, tightening until he felt like choking. She didn’t deserve to have all of him inflicted upon her. She was too good and too kind…and he hadn’t done anything deserving of her attention.

“You don’t have to stick around,” he said, taking hold of her wrists and pushing her away. He slumped against the wall until he dropped onto his ass, holding his head in his hands and trying to fight off the overwhelming urge to throw himself off the top of the Senate buildings.

“I’m a mess.”

Ghoul could feel her eyes on the top of his head and he hoped, wished she’d take the hint and just…leave him alone. Misery had already sunk its claws into him and he was no longer fit for company. But to his surprise, she sighed and tucked her dress around her thighs before crouching down beside him.

“You have been through a lot,” she said, hugging her knees and resting her cheek on top. “It does not make you messy…but I can see it is something you have trouble managing on your own.”

“It was just a panic attack,” Ghoul mumbled, hanging his head. “Happens all the time to most of us.”

“That was not a panic attack,” Odessa said firmly. “You have…something like my father. I do not know what to call it in Basic. It is worse. It is like…something terrible happened, and suddenly you are reminded of it. And you…see it happening again. Like you are there, all over again.”

Ghoul whipped his head up, staring at her with his mouth fallen open.

“It's PTSD,” he croaked. “How’d you know?”

Odessa shrugged and took hold of the ends of her lekku, bringing them together in a fidget.

“My father suffers the same affliction,” she said. “Sometimes he will hear a noise, or smell something strange, and he will just…stop moving. His eyes are open but he is not seeing what is in front of him. Sometimes he is not himself. I have seen him cry and rage and break things during his episodes.”

“...what happened to him?”

It was a question he hated when other people asked him…it was audacious of him to even think he had any right to ask someone else, but Odessa didn’t seem to mind. She took a deep breath and sighed heavily, still occupying her hands with her lekku.

“He watched my mother die,” she said softly. “He could not save her…and it haunts him.”

“Oh…I’m…I’m sorry.”

It was the first time he could remember apologizing in a long time, and he didn’t even know what he was apologizing for. As a clone, they didn’t have mothers, or anything remotely close to a maternal figure. He didn’t know what it was like to lose a parent…but ‘sorry’ felt like the kind of thing he was supposed to say.

“It happened last year,” she said, her voice still soft and sad. “He sent me to Coruscant because he did not want the same thing to be happening to me.”

“Was it the Separatists?” Ghoul asked, curious. Distracting himself made it feel better, helped him push aside the shame and regret. He realized he didn’t know that much about her, apart from the things she had told him. Odessa nodded and dropped her lekku to hug her knees again, squeezing herself tight.

“They sent a bounty hunter after my father,” she said. “He saw something, I think, that was very sensitive to their plans. He was not home when the hunter came, but my mother and I were.”

Ghoul’s breath caught in his chest.

“You were there too?” he asked.

“...yes.”

“...what happened?”

Odessa scrunched up her face and turned away. For a moment he thought he had crossed a line, that he had asked too much of her and that she was going to stand up and leave him sitting there in the dank alleyway. He wouldn’t have blamed her; it was just his luck that he didn’t know how to carry a conversation. Selfishly, he had only wanted to distract himself, at the cost of her own comfort. His stomach dropped at the thought that maybe he had hurt her by being too insensitive, but he didn’t know what to say to make it better.

But he didn’t need to. Odessa looked back at him, her eyes watery but determined.

“The hunter tried to use us as bait,” she said. “He planned to wait for my father to return home and ambush him. I think it would have worked if not for my mother. She was very smart, really very good with mechanical and electrical work. She would always be tinkering with something…so she was able to slip out of her stasis cuffs.”

“That’s impressive,” Ghoul said truthfully.

“Yes. She surprised the hunter as he attacked my father…tried to take his blaster from him. But….”

She looked about to cry and Ghoul didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t the comforting type; he didn’t know how to do what she did and he didn’t know if any attempt would be welcome, so he sat there and waited, hoping it was enough for her that he was listening. Odessa dragged the back of her hand over her eyes and sniffled.

“She did not know how to use a blaster,” she said angrily. “All the times she asked my father to teach her and he refused, because he did not want her to become more involved! If she had known, maybe she would still be alive. If he was not so stubborn….”

Something clicked inside of Ghoul’s brain and he looked up at her in shock.

“Is that…is that why you were…at the range, you didn’t want to hold it. The blaster. And I…kriff, you should have said something! I…I wouldn’t have made you if I had–”

“No,” Odessa said, shaking her head. “No, I wanted to learn! My father refused to teach me for the same reason he did not teach my mother. Truthfully, he is very protective…but he thought he could keep us away from the war. I know his intentions were noble, but….”

“He can’t protect you from everything,” Ghoul supplied for her. “That’s just…stupid. Better if you can defend yourself, if the need arises.”

The look she shot his way was almost grateful and she nodded in agreement before tucking her lekku back over her shoulders.

“You were the first person who was on my side,” she said. “It made me like you even more.”

Ghoul felt his pulse quicken, but thankfully this time it had nothing to do with panic. He thought about asking her what she meant, but the timing felt…off, like it’d be wrong to take away from where they were now, sitting on the ground and baring parts of themselves to each other that were still raw and bleeding around the edges, like a scab that had been picked at too many times.

He didn’t know if he had it in him to be as trusting with his own vulnerabilities. The idea of giving anyone ammo that could be used against him made him want to peel his skin off. The one time he had tried talking to the military-approved therapist, she had pried for details he hadn’t been ready to give and then grew upset with him when he ended the session early. He didn’t like being pressured…he hated when people stared because he knew what was going through their heads. They wanted to know so bad it ate them up on the inside to hold their tongues.

“You don’t ever ask me anything about the way I look,” Ghoul said, surprising himself with how steady his voice held. “How come?”

Odessa looked over at him with a frown, almost like she was insulted. The ends of her lekku twitched and Ghoul tried to memorize the exact way they moved, because he was going to find a way to translate what they were saying even if it killed him.

“It is not my place to ask,” she said evenly. “If you are wanting me to know, then you will tell me. Until then, I have no say.”

“You’re not curious?”

“Even if I am, why is it that my curiosity is being more important than your comfort?”

Oh.

Warmth spread through him from head to toe, erasing the last uncomfortable vestiges his episode had left prickling under his skin. He didn’t know what it was like to fall for someone…but he imagined it was…it had to be something like this, looking at Odessa and realizing that she saw someone worth respecting. Any other day he might’ve thought it pathetic that his standards were so low…but for now…for now he just let the feeling flow through him, basking in the way she looked at him with a small, secretive smile he wanted to believe was for him alone.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “I…don't…I'm not used to people sticking around for so long. You're probably the first."

"First what?" Odessa asked, confused.

"Uh…friend," Ghoul said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're the first friend I've had since…since before I looked like this."

Odessa stilled for a moment, then scooted closer, so that their arms touched. He held his breath, trying to figure out what she was up to, and then froze in place as she laid her head against the hard shoulder plate of his armor.

"You are my first real friend too," she admitted. "I am glad to have met you."

Ghoul swallowed hard, the motion painful, and waited for the usual round of doubt to hit him…and he kept waiting because it never did. She wasn't pulling his leg or leading him on…she really meant it. The part of him that was quick to reject any notion that didn't support his usual self-loathing was mercifully silent. He didn't dare move and barely breathed out of fear that if he did either she'd find her excuse to leave.

"You want to stay here?" Odessa asked after a moment.

"I…I don't wanna go back in there," Ghoul said. "You'll have to tell your friends that I…that I had something come up, and–"

"I will make up something," she said. "Do not worry yourself about it."

"...I don't feel like moving."

"Then we sit here."

"...why are you so—"

So damn pretty?

"—nice?"

Odessa rolled her head against his shoulder to look up at him. She blinked and he could see the individual striations that made up her blue eyes, the lighter flecks that made it look like they sparkled in the sunlight.

"What else am I supposed to be?" she asked.

He didn't have an answer for that and sat back against the wall, stretching his legs out in front of him and trying not to think about how strange they looked. But then Odessa pressed closer, slipping her arm beneath his and resting her hand on his vambrace. The next time he glanced down at her she had her eyes shut.

Slowly…very slowly, Ghoul allowed himself to take a breath, then another. When she didn't immediately get up and run away, he sighed in relief. He didn't know how long it was going to take for his legs to stop feeling like they were made of gelatin…but for as long as she was willing to sit with him, he figured he could handle it.

[fanaticsnail]

I'm surprised by all the love for Childhood Friends Reader x Doffy but also I feel like a winner. Take that, discord buddies.

I want to write at least the first few chapters before publishing anything just to see if I'm good at it or not.

Here is some 17-year-old Doffy with 15-year-old Reader. He is great at Spanish but sucks at French at this age (he's still learning 🥺)

Doflamingo was lounging on the chair, his legs extended, feet sitting on the round, small table of the restaurant, his hands folded behind his back, swaying back and forth on the chair.

One day, fate would have enough of his games and the chair would tip over and the goof would fall. You had a camera ready for that day.

You were doing prep for the evening dinner, wondering what dessert to put on the menu on the chalkboard outside.

"Hey, can we have a quickie tonight?" asked Doflamingo curiously.

You dropped your knife, and almost cut your finger off by doing it. Your heart raced wildly as your mind raced even faster, by the teen pirate’s suggestion.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck - you thought, freaking out.

Your face was so red it would make the Red Line pale in comparison.

"You know, that delicious tart thing,” said Doflamingo, beaming at you, like you didn't experience a full system shutdown at the ripe old age of fifteen.

The confusion and panic faded very fast after that, replaced by embarrassment.

“It's a quiche, you moron!" you shrieked, and as per usual, grabbed the closest thing in vicinity and threw it at him.

Doflamingo squawked in surprise when the box of butter came flying at him. His fingers controlling the strings wrapped around the stool's hind legs twitched.

Uh-oh, was the final thought Doflamingo had before the chair tipped over, and his overly large, gangly body went down, crashing to the wooden floor.

At least the butter missed him. That thing hurts.

Your shocked gasp was music to his ears, and he faked a pained groan while grinning from ear to ear.

“Doffy!” you cried, running out from behind the bar to the large heap of limbs that was your best friend.

You gathered his head in your lap, “Doffy, are you okay? Wake up! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't die!"

"I might from suffocation," gasped Doflamingo, despite your hug not really hurting.

There was another gasp from you, this one of relief.

"I thought you shattered your skull!” you cried, hugging him tight.

A swell of warmth spread through Doflamingo, and he raised his arms, hugging you back — you were so tiny in his arms now, but he liked it, he liked being big for you — gently patting your back as you rambled incohrenetly.

How cute.

If you thinking he got hurt meant you hugging him this close, practically stuffing his face into your breasts, your hands cradling his head and your gentle fingers caressing his hair, maybe Doflamingo should whine about the rare little injuries he gets more often.

“I can't shatter my skull,” said Doflamingo, smirking, enjoying the embrace. “Because I’m a string man!”

He laughed at his own pun, and loved hearing your giggles join in.

I just think all the teenage chars with material-based Devil Fruits were doing that "Because I'm (insert material of Devil Fruit here)" during their teenage years because it was the cool thing to say in their minds.

Much love to all the anons, and to you, Snail.❤️❤️

- Yandere Doffy Anon

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

(we can have anything you want, king).

I love this childhood friend au. Drop the Ao3 link, my darling. I want EVERYTHING you write for them 😭😭

[e46junkie]

e46 rant

I have a 03 e46 and its she's kind of a pos rn bc no one took care of her so now I have a shit ton of stuff to replace because almost everything is oem and the car is 20 years old but since I'm absolutely in love with her it's worth it, anyways I just replaced my control arms and sway bar links because of a clanking in my front end when going over bumps and turning and shit because obviously they were shot. but now after since I've done this work there's still this weird like soft clank when I apply the break at times, I think that maybe the pads need to be refitted or something in the caliper based on the research I've done and what I've already replaced, and like doing the breaks shouldn't be too bad and I need to do the backs anyways but I just have like no time and no money LOL. it's really annoying though because as well as having that mystery clank happening my HALF SHAFT IS GOING BAD ON THE RIGHT SIDE BECAUSE I CAN FUCKING H E A R IT. I love bmw!!!! I love my e46 though, kisses hugs luv u girl mwah

[daseuropeanautohauswoodlands]

Suspension Solutions: Elevating Your Mini Cooper's Ride with Expert Service

Elevating the driving experience of your Mini Cooper goes beyond its stylish design and zippy performance. A crucial aspect often overlooked is the suspension system, which directly impacts ride comfort, handling, and safety. In this article, we delve into the intricacies of Mini Cooper suspension service, exploring how expert maintenance can transform your driving experience.

Understanding Mini Cooper Suspension:

Before delving into service solutions, it's essential to grasp the fundamentals of your Mini Cooper's suspension system. Mini Coopers are renowned for their nimble handling and responsive steering, attributes largely attributable to their sophisticated suspension setup. From MacPherson struts to multi-link rear suspensions, each component plays a pivotal role in delivering a balanced and engaging driving experience.

Signs of Suspension Issues:

Recognizing the signs of suspension problems is the first step towards addressing them effectively. Common indicators include excessive bouncing or bottoming out, uneven tire wear, steering wheel vibration, and a noticeable decrease in ride comfort. If you notice any of these symptoms, it's crucial to schedule a suspension inspection promptly to prevent further damage and ensure optimal performance.

Comprehensive Suspension Inspection:

A thorough suspension inspection is the cornerstone of effective service. Qualified technicians will assess various components, including shocks, struts, springs, control arms, and bushings, for signs of wear, damage, or fluid leaks. Utilizing specialized tools and diagnostic equipment, they can pinpoint the root cause of any issues and recommend appropriate solutions tailored to your Mini Cooper's specific model and driving needs.

Shock and Strut Replacement:

Shocks and struts play a critical role in stabilizing your Mini Cooper's ride and absorbing road imperfections. Over time, they can degrade due to normal wear and tear, resulting in diminished ride quality and compromised handling. A skilled technician will replace worn shocks and struts with high-quality replacements, restoring your Mini Cooper's stability, control, and comfort.

Spring Inspection and Adjustment:

The springs in your Mini Cooper's suspension system provide support and help absorb bumps and vibrations from the road. During a suspension service, technicians will inspect the condition of the springs and adjust them as needed to restore proper ride height and weight distribution. This ensures optimal handling and minimizes the risk of bottoming out or sagging, preserving your Mini Cooper's dynamic driving characteristics.

Control Arm and Bushing Maintenance:

Control arms and bushings connect various suspension components and play a crucial role in maintaining stability and alignment. Over time, these components can wear out or develop excessive play, leading to noise, vibration, and poor handling. Technicians will inspect control arms and bushings for signs of wear and replace them if necessary, restoring precision steering and handling responsiveness.

Alignment and Tire Balancing:

Proper wheel alignment and tire balancing are essential for ensuring even tire wear, optimal handling, and a smooth ride. During a suspension service, technicians will perform a comprehensive alignment check and adjust the camber, caster, and toe angles to factory specifications. Additionally, they will balance the tires to eliminate vibrations and extend tire life, enhancing overall driving performance and safety.

Performance Upgrades and Customization:

For Mini Cooper enthusiasts seeking to enhance their vehicle's performance and handling, suspension upgrades and customization options abound. From sport-tuned coilover kits to adjustable sway bars and strut tower braces, aftermarket upgrades can transform your Mini Cooper into a corner-carving machine. Knowledgeable technicians can recommend and install upgrades tailored to your driving style and preferences, elevating your Mini Cooper's ride to new heights.

Conclusion:

Your Mini Cooper's suspension system is a complex network of components that directly impact its ride quality, handling, and safety. By investing in expert suspension service, you can address issues promptly, restore optimal performance, and elevate your driving experience. Whether it's replacing worn shocks and struts, adjusting springs, or upgrading to performance-enhancing components, a skilled technician can help unleash the full potential of your Mini Cooper, ensuring every drive is a thrilling adventure.