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zepskies · 7 months

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Smoke Eater - Part 6

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, jealousy, angst, hurt/comfort

Part 6: “Just Casual”

A few days after the house fire that claimed the life of Paul Richardson, father of two, Chief Bobby Singer was joined in his office by Detectives Winchester and Novak, along with his resident Squad Captain and Truck Lieutenant, Benny and Dean.

“The Richardson fire has officially been determined an arson,” Bobby revealed.

“They found a time-delay incendiary device hidden in the attic. No fingerprints. But that’s not even the odd thing,” he said. “The medical examiner found a brand mark on his wrist that was inconsistent with his other burns. Which is why you’re here, I reckon.”

Bobby directed his gaze at both John and Cas, who didn’t look surprised to hear this news.

Dean raised a brow. His gaze shifted to his father, but John only met his stare for a moment before he answered Bobby’s unspoken question.

“We’ve been investigating a series of murders in the area over the past six months,” John said. “Each victim died in their home, with the same brand somewhere on their body. Typically the wrist, or the back of the neck.”

“So we officially have a serial killer turned arsonist on our hands,” Bobby concluded. His attention shifted to Benny and Dean. “Keep this close to the vest, but keep your eyes open.”

“Arsonists are hard to catch,” Dean said, looking to the detectives. “What do you know about this guy?”

Cas glanced at John. The older man could feel his stare, but had to ignore it for now.

“Not much as of yet,” John said. “Right now he’s a coil of smoke, if you’ll pardon the phrase. Our psychologist says he’s most likely a white male, statistically speaking. College educated, or at the very least intelligent, efficient, and so far, he thinks every step through. Like he said, no prints. But the brand is a message.”

“To who, and why, is what we’ve been trying to figure out,” Cas added. “We think that’s the key to pinpointing a suspect.”

“Really,” Dean said. He raised a brow and crossed his arms. “Six months, and that’s all you’ve got?”

“Dean,” John started, but the Lieutenant shook his head.

“Come on, Dad. I know you. Who is this guy?”

“Dean, this is the best I can give you right now, but believe me, we’re working on it,” John said, that tone that boded no further argument.

Bullshit, Dean wanted to shoot back. But he held his tongue for now. He knew that John wouldn’t budge. Instinct still told Dean that his father was holding something back though.

As the men filtered out of Bobby’s office, Dean held Cas back for a moment.

“Watch the old man’s back, all right,” Dean said. “He’s got a penchant for being reckless.”

Cas gave him a wry, pointed look. “I’m doing my best. Winchesters are a stubborn lot.”

Dean smirked and walked out with him. Meg was headed inside, having just come in from an ambulance call. She smiled when she saw her boyfriend.

“Hey, lover,” she greeted. And she smacked his ass in front of God and the entire Rescue Squad, who liked to sit outside the firehouse and play cards at their table.

Ramirez and the others smirked and called out their customary whoops and cat calls. Dean smirked at the actual blushing discomfort that tightened up Cas’s face and shoulders.

“Dinner tonight at Casablanca’s, right?” Meg asked, unfazed by the catcalling peanut gallery.

“Right,” Cas said stiffly. But he still brushed her cheek with his thumb in affection. “See you later.”

“Yep,” she nodded, though she shot Dean a wry brow. “What? I stole your boyfriend. Get over it.”

She continued on her path back inside the firehouse, leaving Dean and Cas to stare after her in annoyance and begrudging fondness, respectively.

Dean turned to his friend and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good luck and Godspeed, my friend. That woman’s fuckin’ terrifying.”

Cas gave him a lazy salute as he walked away. He found that John had already started up their police car. He was in the driver’s seat, as always, with a hand resting casually on the steering wheel.

Dean typically sat in much the same way. Cas thought both men were more comfortable in a car than anywhere else in life. Except, maybe, the precinct and the firehouse.

Cas slid into the passenger seat and gave his partner a knowing look.

“I still think you should tell Sam and Dean what’s really happening here,” he said.

John looked over at him with an almost unreadable expression. But they had been partners for a few years now; long enough for Cas to get a read on the older veteran.

“I understand why you want to keep them out of this, but now this guy is starting fires. Here, in Dean’s district,” Cas pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be safer for him if he had clearer eyes walking into the next one?”

If, God forbid, something should go wrong on the next call Dean responded to, John would never forgive himself. Both he and Cas knew this, but John never answered his partner’s question. He didn’t want his sons getting their noses in this just yet, even if it meant the worry he saw in Dean’s eyes.

So he put the car in “drive” and peeled away from the firehouse.

Trying to match your schedule with Dean’s was a challenge you two were trying to figure out. Though you’d fallen into a pattern of talking on the phone to fill the void when you two couldn’t meet.

Even after almost two more weeks and a third date, you were pleasantly surprised that you and Dean still had plenty to talk about. You told him more about your childhood with your grandparents, while he told you funny stories about him and Sam growing up with their dad, though he was often gone while working on cases.

It was family friend and Fire Chief, Bobby Singer who looked after them whenever John couldn’t, or his old partner Jody Mills, or even Ellen Harvelle, owner of the Roadhouse.

The more you learned about Dean, the more invested you became. And he listened to you when you went on tangents about new recipes you wanted to try out (as long as he got to be your official Taste Tester).

You two argued, playfully and fervently, about music. And you’d been creating a list of old shows the other hadn’t seen, but absolutely needed to.

Dean had suggested Dukes of Hazzard, for example, while you suggested Smallville. You each only agreed to put up with this list if you two watched it together. (Needless to say, there would be some marathon binge watching in your future.)

That was why you didn’t think much of it when Dean invited you to join him at the Roadhouse to meet Cas, one of his best friends, and his girlfriend Meg. You’d invited Andréa to come along, and even Dean’s friend Benny, who she’d also been seeing ever since that night at the Roadhouse.

Apparently, the couple had their own plans.

You tried not to feel some type of way about her brush-off, but your friend had been increasingly distant since she met Benny Lafitte. However, you supposed you couldn’t judge. You hadn’t been calling her as much either, ever since you met Dean.

You knew that if you kept dating him, some adjustments would have to come in your life. You also promised yourself that you’d never be someone who forgot your friends for a man…even for a man like Dean Winchester.

Tonight, however, you’d come directly from work to meet him at the bar. It made more sense than to make him come pick you up from your house, so you sat with a ginger ale while you waited. He’d promised you via text that he was on the way, just stuck in traffic.

Okay, drive safe. 😘 Don’t speed, please.

You knew how he liked floor the Impala with that damn lead foot of his.

No promises. 🏎️

You wanted to roll your eyes, but you were smiling unconsciously as you read his reply.

You were soon knocked out of your thoughts when a smooth voice said your name. You looked up and to your right, and there stood a familiar face. The man greeted you with an easy smile as he sat down next to you.

“I thought that was you,” he said. He reached out his hand and re-introduced himself. “Gordon Walker. Not sure if you remember me.”

“Oh, yes! Of course I do, Gordon,” you smiled and shook his hand.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said. His dark eyes subtly took you in from head to toe in your skirt, heels, and blouse. “Though I’ve gotta admit, I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Ah, right,” you said. “Well—”

Before you could explain, Gordon held up a finger as he noticed your drink of choice.

“Oh, wait a sec. Let me get you something stronger than soda,” he said. He started to flag down Jo, but you shook your head and made a cutting motion with your hand.

“Uh, no, that’s okay,” you said. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“What?” Gordon asked.

It was getting busy in the bar, making it loud enough that you could understand why he hadn’t heard you. You leaned over towards his ear.

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you said, raising your voice a bit. Gordon leaned in even closer and chanced resting a hand above your knee.

“You sure?” he asked. He gave you a smile that was all smooth sex appeal and confidence, without being arrogant.

It was undoubtedly attractive, but you were more shocked than charmed in your blush. You instinctively leaned back when you felt his hand on your thigh. Your hand clenched on the counter.

While your brain scrambled to figure out a response that would successfully remove it (without snapping rudely like you were itching to), a hand slipped along your lower back.

You jolted a bit in your seat with a flare of unease, until you turned your head and found Dean.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, and dropped a kiss at your hairline. He also clapped a heavy hand on Gordon’s shoulder and squeezed. The other man graciously got the hint and leaned back, withdrawing his hand from your thigh.

“Hi,” you said, finally able to breathe a bit easier. You gave Dean a smile, and he returned it.

He looked over at his friend with a sharper smile. “Hey, Gord. How’s your night goin’?”

“Good.” Gordon nodded, now with a knowing gleam in his eye. “Though I’m sure your night’s gonna go better.”

You weren’t sure how to take that remark, considering the way Dean reacted with a tighter expression and pursed lips. Then, they flickered at a smile.

“Well, we’re meeting up with Meg and Cas in a minute. You should join us,” Dean said. Even though his tone wasn’t so very inviting. The two men seemed to have a wordless conversation between the lines that you couldn’t decipher.

Gordon shook his head, but raised his drink. “No worries, you guys hang. I’m leaving in a few.”

“All right. Let us know if you change your mind,” Dean said. He thumped Gordon once more on the back, more friendly this time.

Dean’s other hand slipped around your waist. He tapped you on the side.

“Come on, I’ve got us a table. It’s quieter,” he said.

You nodded and slid out of your seat. You offered Gordon a polite smile, even if you’d rather not.

“Have a good night,” you said.

The other man’s smile was less flirtatious and more polite this time as well.

“You too,” he said.

Dean helped you onto your feet, like the gentleman he was, and he continued to lead you away from the bar with a hand on the small of your back. You instinctively pressed against his side to squeeze past the throng of patrons.

When you reached a high-top table in the corner, he pulled out your chair and held your hand as you climbed up in your skirt. You thanked him with a more genuine smile. Though once he was seated next to you, you leaned towards him and laid a hand on his arm, which rested on the table.

“I tried to tell him I was waiting for you. He took me by surprise,” you whispered.

Dean’s brows rose, but his face soon evened out with a smile. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Don’t worry about it. He didn’t know about us,” he said. “He was shootin’ his shot…a bit aggressively. Sorry about that.”

“Oh…it’s okay. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” you replied. Though butterflies ran through your belly when you considered what us meant.

You noted his frown at what you’d said though, and so you aimed to change the subject.

“But Cas and Meg know, right?” you asked.

Dean nodded. His frown started to lift. “Yeah. Cas is one of my best friends. Meg is…well. She’s the little sister I wish I didn’t have.”

You shook your head in amusement. Then you let out a squeal as Dean hooked a foot around the leg of your chair and brought you closer. He stopped you from becoming too unbalanced by wrapping an arm around your waist. You clenched your hands into the open panels of his plaid shirt, and his charming smile greeted you.

“Hi,” he said.

You laughed. “Yeah, you mentioned that earlier.”

“Well, I’m doing it right this time,” he said. And he dipped down for a lingering kiss.

Across the bar was Jo Harvelle, doing her job behind the counter. She poured five shots in succession and doled them out to a party of frat bros without even looking.

Her eyes were drawn to the back corner of the bar, where you and Dean sat closely together, exchanging whispers and the occasional steamy kiss.

“Mind your business,” came Ellen’s whisper in her ear.

Jo whipped her head to glare softly at her mother, but she saw Ellen’s point. It was both obvious and pathetic of her to stare.

Despite the unease making her feel a bit sick to her stomach, Jo went over to Gordon down at the end. His sympathetic smile bothered her; she knew then she hadn’t just been caught by her mother.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” he remarked.

“What?” Jo said. She began wiping down his area of the counter. “Would it kill you to keep it in the glass?”

Gordon gave her an amused look as he sat back in his seat. His tumbler of whiskey was drained.

“Look, I’m sorry, all right?” he said.

Both of them knew he wasn’t apologizing for the spill.

Jo’s brows knitted together, mostly in annoyance. “Again, for what?”

“I know it’s gotta be hard to see him actually moving on,” he replied.

Her lips pursed, and her eyes darted to the back of the room again. She stared for a moment at the side of your face.

“Knowing him, whatever it is won’t last,” she muttered.

Gordon hissed at the "burn," with a deep chuckle. She knew her words weren’t kind, but it was how she felt.

“That may be,” he allowed. “But he’s not just chasing tail anymore. That’s what scares you.”

Gordon dropped a nice tip for her next to his glass. He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and left Jo with the churning in her gut.

Cas and Meg finally arrived a few minutes later.

Dean knew you’d been to the Roadhouse before, but this was different. You were meeting some of his friends, and he realized how much he wanted you to. He felt…comfortable around you. And he wanted his friends to know you, and to like you.

“As you know, Meg’s our Paramedic in Charge over at 25,” he began, gesturing at the woman as she got settled in her seat.

You admired her long brown hair, tall boots, and black leather jacket. She seemed to ooze confidence and dark charisma as she tossed you a smirk.

“Guilty,” she said.

You smiled back. Dean gestured at her boyfriend next, clad in a beige trench coat, slacks, and blazer.

“And Cas, who bravely suffers being my dad’s partner on the job.”

Cas nodded wryly at the introduction. His dark hair and blue eyes were striking, you could admit. His tie was loose and slightly rumpled. Along with the stubble coating his face, he was handsome, if a bit scruffy. It was hard for you to believe he’d earned the top scores his year in the Police Academy, but you supposed that looks could be deceiving.

“What’s that like?” you asked with a smirk. “From what I’ve heard about John Winchester, he sounds like he’s a bit of a hard-ass.”

Dean barked with a dry laugh. “An understatement.”

“He has a crab-like shell,” Cas agreed. “But he has a soft center where it counts, not unlike his sons.”

You turned to Dean with a more teasing smile. “Aww…”

He rolled his eyes, even though his arm, which had been draped across the back your chair, now dropped to curl around your waist.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Columbo,” he remarked at his blue-eyed friend.

Always had to get the last dig in, it seemed, but you couldn’t help but laugh a little along with Meg at Cas’s expense.

“You guys all seem really close,” you said. It was nice for you to see.

Dean shrugged like it was no big deal. Or rather, like it was commonplace.

“Well, maybe family ain’t just about blood,” he said.

Meg rolled her eyes. “Ugh. What a friggin’ sap.”

“You love it,” Dean grinned. She smiled, begrudgingly.

Family ain’t just about blood.

You liked that sentiment as well. It seemed to be true here.

Even Ellen Harvelle treated Dean like a son when she came over to greet your table. She kissed his cheek and gave Meg and Cas’s shoulders a squeeze. Even you got a warm hand on your shoulder when she introduced herself.

“Welcome, hun. I understand it’s not your first time here, but if you got any questions on the menu, you let me know,” she said.

Dean shot you a conspiratorial smile, and it got you wondering what he was about to do.

“I mean, I don’t know why you don’t put the order in for chili fries the second you see me come through the door,” he teased. “Come on, Ellen. How long’ve I been coming here? Since before I had a license?”

Ellen narrowed her eyes and flicked the side of Dean’s head, regardless of his flinching protest.

“Don’t you go sayin’ that so damn loud,” she reproached. “You never drank underage at my bar.”

His eyes averted with a smile, in a way that told you Ellen was a damn liar. You bit your lip to try and hide your smile.

“Anyway, I’ll get your damn fries—”

“And a beer,” Dean interjected. She rolled her eyes.

“And a beer. Four?” she pointed at the rest of you, and you, Cas, and Meg nodded in agreement.

“All right, four beers. Anything else, darlin’?” She looked at you with a mother’s charm.

You looked up from the menu and unconsciously smiled.

“Um, sure. Can I get the chicken sandwich?”

She patted your shoulder. “You sure can.”

Ellen then took the rest of their orders without writing a thing down. You were impressed by her memory. At the end though, Dean didn’t let her go without a hand on her arm.

“Thanks, Ellen,” he said with a more sincere smile.

“A-huh,” she replied, with all due sarcasm. But there was a fondness in her eyes that was hard to miss when she playfully grabbed the back of his neck. “Knucklehead.”

A giggle escaped you, and Ellen tossed you a wink before she went to put in the orders and get the drinks.

Conversation flowed easier when the alcohol came. One beer became two, and even three (four, for Meg). By then, you were sure it was one beer too many for yourself, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out. You were mostly listening to the three of them bounce back and forth between reminiscing with old stories and roasting one another mercilessly.

It was hilarious and entertaining, but you were trying not to get caught in the crosshairs of the volleying. Inevitably though, Meg’s attention turned to you with a certain sly smile.

“You must be real special,” she remarked, gesturing at Dean. “He usually doesn’t bring his girls around here, where he actually likes to hang out. Guess that’d mean he’d have to see ‘em again with the lights on.”

You blinked in surprise.

“Meg,” Dean’s voice cut like a warning.

Your eyes widened as you took in the change, his deeper voice, his more serious gaze, versus Meg’s nonchalance. Even Cas gave her a chiding look.

“Not sure I want to know what that means,” you tried to joke.

But you could guess. It was fairly obvious.

You glanced over at Dean, whose lips pursed. Before either of you could say anything more, Meg chimed in.

“Oooh, is this gonna be your first fight?” she teased.

Dean’s brows furrowed with a glare. “That’s enough.”

“And that’s our cue,” Cas nodded. He’d already slipped out his wallet as soon as his girlfriend started talking. He left a generous few bills to cover their half of the night, plus tip, and got up out of his seat. He claimed his coat and then encouraged Meg off her chair.

“What? I’m not done with my beer,” she protested.

“I think you are,” Cas said.

Meg scoffed, but she allowed his manhandling as he wrapped a supportive arm around her waist.

“You’re not the boss of me, Clarence,” she snipped.

“Certainly not,” he agreed. “But you’re a lightweight. Time to go home, before you insult the entire bar.”

“You’re no fucking fair,” she groused, hitting his chest over his jacket. Cas leveled you and Dean with a long-suffering look of apology.

Dean waved him off with a “no sweat it” look and a shake of his head. Meg annoyed the shit out of him sometimes, especially when she was drunk. He turned to you with a sigh.

“Again, sorry about that. I didn’t think I’d have to apologize for my friends more than once tonight,” he said.

You shook your head. “It’s...okay. Overall, they were really fun.”

Dean scoffed. “I don’t think Cas has been called fun even once in his life.”

You smiled in amusement, but Meg’s words still swirled around in your head like heady wine.

“Dean,” you began, but your attempt to broach the issue was cut off by his cell phone ringing. He gave you an apologetic look and fished in his pocket for his phone. His brows rose when he saw the caller ID.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I gotta take this,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, okay—” You’d barely nodded when Dean was up and out of his chair, heading out of the bar. You could still see him through one of the faded glass doors as he held the phone up to his ear.

It was late, and quieter now. A blonde server came to take your plates, and you actually remembered her.

“Oh, hi! Jo, right?” you asked. She hesitated when you spoke, but she bobbed her head.

“That’s me,” she said. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” you said with a smile. “I met your mom. She’s really nice.”

Jo uttered a wry laugh as she stacked the plates and silverware. You helped her collect the silverware and empty beer bottles.

“Yeah, when you get her good side,” she replied.

You smirked at that, remembering how Ellen snapped back and forth with Dean. You had no doubt that woman could be a pistol if you pissed her off.

“Well, it's nice here,” you admitted, once again taking stock of the décor. The music, the warm lighting, the good food… “It’s cozy.”

Jo’s smile quirked to one side as she paused.

“Well, it’s been in my family for three generations of Harvelles,” she said. “This was my father’s favorite place in the world.”

You caught the note of melancholy in her words, in her eyes.

“Was?” you echoed. She met your gaze and nodded.

“He was a firefighter,” she said. “He died on the job.”

You dimmed considerably. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Jo only nodded.

“How did he…” Your curiosity got the best of you, but you soon shook your head and backtracked. “Never mind, you don’t have to explain.”

“It was a fire that wasn’t properly vented,” Jo answered your half-spoken question. Her blue eyes were heavier. “He got caught in an updraft…but he actually worked at Firehouse 25. He was their brother. That’s why this’ll always be their place.”

You processed that with a slow nod of wonder.

“It’s good that you and your mom will always have that support,” you said eventually. “Even though…it might be hard too, to always be reminded.”

Jo’s lips quirked again. “It’s more the first one, but…sometimes the second one. A lot of these guys have known me since I had braces. It’s hard to shake that perpetual little sister thing.”

You smiled at that. “Yeah, I’d imagine that gets old real quick. A bunch of over-protective older brothers.”

“Overbearing, more like,” she scoffed. You laughed.

Unconsciously, you glanced over to the front of the bar, where you saw Dean still on the phone. You remembered the second date you were meant to have, when he was late due to a five-car pileup his team responded to.

You remembered that night he called you for the first time, after a long day he didn’t want to tell you about. He’d let you distract him instead. All the while, it had you wondering what he’d seen. What he’d responded to that day.

Had it been another car accident? A fire? What made someone as upbeat and funny and smooth as Dean seem to lose all the life in his voice?

Though while you were lost in your thoughts, Jo was watching you.

Jealousy roiled inside her, unbidden. She didn’t want to hate you, because unlike the girls Dean usually messed around with, you had some self-respect. Jo heard Meg’s snide clips at you earlier, and no one could fake the surprise in your eyes. Unless you were just that good a damn actor…

But no, she didn’t get that vibe from you.

It didn’t mean she had to like you though.

“You’re right to think twice,” Jo said, earning your attention back with a swivel of your head. “What Meg said…she wasn’t wrong. Dean’s broken a few hearts, if you catch my drift.”

Just a few well-placed words, Jo thought. She realized then that she had the power to twist the wrench here, widening the gap between you and Dean. Feed your doubts.

She didn’t have to feel bad about it if it was the truth.

And yet…she saw the way your gaze fell. The disappointment setting in, the anxious clench of your hands on the table. You glanced over at Dean again out of the corner of your eye.

Jo realized then just what she was doing, not just to Dean, but to herself.

You’re not some petty bitch, she dully reminded herself.

“But,” she found herself adding. You raised your gaze back to her. Jo let out a subtle breath.

“It’s not always his fault,” she admitted. And maybe she was speaking a bit too much from experience. “The job demands a lot from him.”

Slowly, you nodded. You looked pensive, but not like you’d made up your mind.

Fine, Jo thought, as she collected the dishes and left your table.

She didn’t know if she wanted to sway you one way or the other on taking a chance on Dean Winchester.

While you were talking to Jo, Dean was taking his father’s unexpected call.

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” he said.

“Hey, son. How are ya?” John’s voice was gruff and tired. Dean frowned to hear it.

“I’m good. I’m out right now, but did you need something?”

“Have you responded to any fires lately?”

“You mean like the Richardson fire?” Dean asked pointedly. “No, haven’t had one since. And no cattle prod brandings either.”

“All right, good. Just checking in.”

Good? Dean thought. John would be chomping at the bit for a new arson. If he was “just checking in,” then he was worried about something. Is he worried about me?

“What’s going on? Is there something I need to know?” Dean asked in suspicion. This was why he had taken the call. “Seriously, you can tell me. I’m not even gonna bitch at you like Sam does.”

John chuckled. But then he hesitated. Dean knew he’d hit on something.

“Dad?” he pressed.

John’s sigh was a heavy one. “Okay. What I’m about to tell you, you don’t fucking repeat. Not to anyone, you understand me? Not even your brother.”

Dean’s brows furrowed in trepidation. “Okay, fine. What the hell is it?”

“Richardson, the father of two?” John reminded. “He was a lawyer, linked to a money laundering scheme through a company called Stull Storage. It’s an old company, dates back to the seventies.”

“Okay…”

As John continued to explain, the more confused Dean became…

About 30 years ago, John Winchester had been a young, but promising officer in the Narcotics division. He’d married young, and by then was just barely clearing the five-year mark. Already he had the house he’d inherited from his wife’s parents, a four-year-old son, and a newborn.

Stull Storage’s units were used by a drug ring that John had been trying to infiltrate, undercover. Those units had stored cocaine, illegal weapons, and other flavors of contraband, mostly from South America (and back).

“We got close to breaking that case, once, but after the fire…I transferred out of Narcotics, as you know,” John said.

Dean knew the real story there. After his mom died, his father went into a spiral, trying to find whoever set that fire—even after the Fire Department found no evidence of arson. John had eventually been forced out of Narcotics. He requested Homicide.

As he’d told Dean once when he was extremely drunk: I seem to do better at my job when the bodies are already dead.

“Now I know that I was right about your mother’s death,” John said.

Dean released a shaky sigh. “Aw, man. Not this again, Dad. For Christ’s sake.”

“There was something wrong about that fire, Dean,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over Dean’s objections. “I just didn’t find the connection…until now.”

Dean muttered a curse under his breath. His gaze fell to the ground. Sam was usually the one who drew a hard line at hearing any more about their mom’s supposed murder, but now Dean had reached the end of his tether. It was too much.

He glanced back through the glass doors to make sure you were okay. He saw you talking to Jo, and he frowned at himself.

Here you were, waiting on him back in the bar, and his dad was calling him in the middle of the night, chasing ghosts again.

“Look…it’s been my whole damn life with this.” Dean held the phone to his ear with one hand, and rubbed at his forehead with the other. “I just can’t do this with you anymore.”

“Dean, listen,” John urged. “You wanna know what I’m digging into, this is it. I got Mary’s file unsealed.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “What? Thought you couldn’t do that without new evidence and a court order.”

“Well, I’ve got the evidence…maybe I was a bit impatient with the court order.”

Dean rolled his eyes. His father liked to play a little fast and loose with the rules.

“At the time, the medical examiner dismissed it. She’d been burned…” John paused on a deeper breath. “But I saw it. Mary had a burn on her wrist. It was the same brand found on Richardson. On Jerry Stillwell, CPA. Amanda Waller, journalist. It’s all connected, Dean. How they’re connected to one another, I’m not sure yet. We’re still digging…but I do know this. Richardson was a message.”

Dean’s back hit the wall of the Roadhouse. His brows furrowed as he struggled to digest everything John was saying.

“A message?” he asked. “To who?”

“To me, I think. Those kids, and their mother…you got ‘em out alive, but they weren’t meant to,” John said, his voice sounding heavy. "The wife told me her husband was erratic when he got home, holding his wrist. He'd been burned before the fire. He wouldn't say what happened...then they smelled the goddamn smoke."

"Shit," Dean replied. He leaned heavily against the wall, pressing a hand to his forehead. There was an ache starting between his eyes.

“Yeah," John agreed. "The drug ring I was investigating, when I was in Narcotics. I was getting close. And I mean close. I was about to get the Big Kahuna. The kingpin of the whole operation…and then the house fire.”

Fuck. Dean wiped at his mouth anxiously as he realized what John was saying. Fuck.

“He burned me, Dean. He must have,” John said. Meaning, the drug lord he was trying to pin down somehow discovered his identity. “Your mom paid the price of that.”

“Who is this guy?” Dean asked. His hand holding the phone was starting to tremble.

“I still don’t know his real name. Workin’ on that one too,” John said. “But they called him Azazel.”

When Dean eventually hung up with his father and returned to you at the bar, he saw you brighten. But you soon dimmed with a tinge of worry. Something of his thoughts must’ve shown on his face.

Shit. He tried his best to school his features.

“Hey, sorry about that,” he said, grasping your shoulder. “I’ll take you home.”

“I met you here, remember?” you asked.

Dean paused, then shook his head. Get it together, asshole.

“Right," he said. "Well, I’ll walk you to your car. Let me just pay real quick.”

After he sorted out the bill (he didn’t know that you’d slipped in an extra $30 in Cas’s stack for your part), he led you out, saying goodbye to Ellen and Jo while you went.

You hesitated when the two of you got to the car. Something wasn’t right with him. And both Jo and Meg’s words still rolled back and forth through your head.

“Dean, are you okay? Who was it on the phone?” you asked.

“I’m fine. It was just my dad, called to have me take a look at his car. We were just arguing about our schedules…I’m sure you can relate,” he replied, trying at a smile.

You weren’t sure if you believed him. Though he was nearly convincing, he was also shifting on his feet, hands in his pockets. His gaze roamed away from yours, above your head and over your shoulder.

“Um, I might’ve had a beer too many,” you said with a half-chuckle. “Could you walk with me for a bit? Just until my head clears enough to drive.”

“I could take you home,” Dean offered.

“And leave my car here?” you asked. In a public parking lot behind a bar?

You shook your head and pointed down the road.

“Just there and back…but if you need to go, I guess I could just sit in my car for a while.”

Dean shook his head with a frown. He couldn’t tell you that a damn serial killer was on the loose.

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “It’s a relatively safe neighborhood, but not so much at night. Not by yourself.”

He laid a hand on your back to start walking with you, but his hand soon fell back to his side. You glanced at him, but he looked straight ahead, unusually quiet and reserved.

It felt like he was checking out of this night with you. Like he just wanted to usher you into the car and leave. Did he just not want to deal with what Meg said?

Letting out a breath, you tried to see if you could broach the subject.

“It was nice to meet some more of your friends,” you said, and with a nervous laugh, “even if it did get awkward there at the end.”

Dean finally looked over at you.

“We never exactly talked about what each of us was looking for,” you said. “What we were really doing here.”

You stood your ground, but you tried not to look censuring. Just open to whatever he might have to say. Even so, unease churned inside you.

Dean sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Look, she wasn’t exactly wrong about me.”

You considered that with a nod, biting the inside of your lip.

“When was the last time you were in a relationship?” you asked. Dean gave a humorless huff of a laugh. This really was the last thing he wanted to get into tonight, but he had a feeling he had no choice.

“A few months ago, for about a minute,” he said. “But uh, before then…never.”

Together, you began to cross the street while the cars on either side waited at the red light. Pedestrians had the right of way for the next 30 seconds. You looked over at him and steeled yourself.

“Dean, is this is something casual for you?”

“Define casual,” he attempted to joke (or to deflect). Though the bravado fell the moment he saw that look on your face: tight and disappointed…and hurt.

He reached for your hand, but you weren’t having it. You slipped away from him and continued walking at a more brusque clip, even in those platform heels.

“Okay, hold on.” He quickly followed after you and tugged you back by the hand. It had you both stopping in the middle of the crosswalk.

Dean squeezed your hand and peered into your eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry. Don’t close up on me,” he implored. “…Please.”

Despite your better judgment, and your pursed lips, you waited. Something told you this man didn’t often say please.

“The truth is, I’m trying to do something different here with you. I don’t think we would’ve made it to date #4 if we were just casual,” he said. “I’m not playing games either.”

You wanted to trust that he was serious. Once again, your mind and your heart were at odds; the former told you to be wary, while the latter told you to trust the earnestness in his eyes.

Your heart won. “Okay, Dean.”

“Yeah?” he asked, with hopeful brows raised.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

You finally smiled. And you leaned up, resting a hand against his chest, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His stubble was coarse, but familiar against your lips.

Dean turned his head and leaned in for a proper kiss. His hands found the curve of your waist and brought you closer against his chest. You both sunk deeper into it, your lips gliding as your head tilted into the kiss…

Until a horn honked loudly, making you both jolt at the sound.

The streetlight was green, and several cars were waiting for you to cross. You snorted in amusement, leading Dean to grin down at you. He tugged you back into step with him across the street.

Again, you hesitated at your car. Dean was more himself as he’d held your hand all the way back.

He now held your car door open while you threw in your purse. But when you turned back to him, you still saw something brooding behind his eyes.

You drew near and grasped the open edges of his shirt. This man wore a lot of plaid when he was out of uniform, always with an undershirt. Tonight it was green plaid on gray, complete with some faded jeans and a pair of boots. This was the only “casual” way in which you wanted Dean.

“Hey,” you started.

“Hmm?” he replied, holding you by your arms.

“I get that we haven’t known each other all that long. So you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you said. “But did something happen when you stepped out? When you talked to your dad?”

Dean paused. His eyes, a pale green under the streetlamp, flicked to yours.

“I just want to know that you’re okay,” you said. “And if you’re not, that’s okay too.”

After a moment to blink in surprise, your earnestness got to him. His grip moved down your arms, and he took one of your hands. His dad’s warning echoed through his mind.

What I’m about to tell you, you don’t fucking repeat. Not to anyone, you understand me? Not even your brother.

Dean knew his dad didn’t make demands without a reason, even if he wasn’t typically so forthcoming with them. But Dean drew enough courage to be as honest as he could be. You deserved that much, after everything you'd put up with tonight.

“My mom died...when I was about four,” he said. “It was a house fire.”

Your eyes widened. All this time, you’d assumed his mother had passed away. You hadn’t expected that, though. You squeezed his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, and you meant it. Dean just shook his head.

“It was ruled an accident. Really they just didn’t have much evidence either way,” he continued. “But uh, my dad’s been obsessed with the idea that it wasn’t. That someone started the fire on purpose… Well, today, he might’ve found his proof.”

He held your gaze for as long as he could, but in the end, he just couldn’t. His chest was tight. Saying those words out loud made them real, and he wasn’t sure of how to handle it.

“Oh, Dean,” you said, starting and stopping, as you struggled to formulate a response that wasn’t just “I’m sorry,” or “Are you okay?”

He clearly wasn’t. You also didn’t want to give him platitudes like, “That’s crazy,” or the ever-inspired: “Wow.”

Or some other variation of what you’re supposed to say. You wanted to give him something honest. Something real.

So you curled your hands around his arms, earning his gaze.

“You must be reeling right now,” you said. “Do you think he’s onto something this time?”

“I don’t know what to think,” said Dean. “I’ve been pressing him for answers, but…honestly? I wish he hadn’t told me a damn thing.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You were surprised that he actually confided in you with this. But the only thing you could think to do was lean up on your toes and slip your arms around his neck. You hugged him, warm and tight.

You couldn’t even imagine what he was feeling, but you just wanted him to know that someone was there for him. You were there for him.

Dean eventually hugged you back. He held you, reassuring you as well as himself. He blew out a cathartic breath, and his hand came up to cup the back of your head. His lips tugged upwards.

“You’re a sweetheart, you know that?” he said.

A smile spread across your face. Your fingers soothed through his hair gently. You pressed your lips into his neck.

“I aim to please,” you said against his skin.

Dean smiled more fully at that. The new warmth in his chest warred against the roiling in his stomach. Despite his best efforts, his smile faded.

His mom’s killer was still out there.

The thought was haunting his mind, and he knew it probably would for many nights to come.

So for now, he’d just hold you a bit tighter.

AN: 🥲 I honestly didn't mean it to end so angsty, but Dean finally got some much-needed hurt/comfort there! What did you think of how Jo handled her jealous side? And Gordon "shooting his shot" lol.

Coming soon in Part 7, we finally get to a huge milestone between these two lovebirds, with a side helping of baking shenanigans. 😏❤️‍🔥

Next Time:

“Ey, ey!” he raised a warning finger with his free hand. “You’re about to take this to a new level.”

You met his gaze through your lashes with a playful smile. “So?”

Dean raised a brow at you. He could admit, you had audacity. All he could do was call your bluff.

He took one of your battered fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widened at the feel of his soft tongue swirling around your finger, sucking it clean. All the while, his eyes never broke from yours.

Lord have mercy, you thought. Really, it was the only coherent one in your head.

Keep Reading: PART 7

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#Just Casual #Smoke Eater #Part 6 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #zepskies writes

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babydollmarauders · 7 months

Text

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 5)

au masterlist

notes: do i like this? idk. but it’s out.

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, dawson1417, and 221,691 others

y/ndevils00 ALL HAIL SATAN! i mean— THE DEVILS!!

YOUR NEW JERSEY DEVILS ARE NOW 6-0 IN THE PRESEASON! STILL THE FINAL UNDEFEATED TEAM IN THE PRESEASON!

tonight we played a home game against the dirty dish rags, and WON 5-2!!

the normal roster played tonight, which means prudential center was finally not just a whore house, but a whore HOME 🫶

we kicked off with a power play goal from my sweet blonde swede, Jesper Bratt! with an assist from my personal devil, Jacky!

literally THIRTY-TWO SECONDS later, MY SMUSH GOT HIS FIRST GOAL OF THE PRESEASON! I COULDN’T BE PROUDER OF YOU, MY MUNCHKIN! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!

in second period, we got a power play goal from best friend number 1!!! you are a star in every way! shine your light, puppy!!

we also got a power play goal from the light of my life, the love of my heart, my uber hot and a lot less smart, boyfriend; JACK ‘BABYGIRL’ ROWDEN HUGHES!!! SO PROUD OF YOU, YOU SEXY DEVIL, YOU!

and to finish us off, in third period, we got a goal from the one, the only, CAPTAIN SWISS SLUT!! look at you go! sticking your tongue out, one game at a time!

p.s. can you guess who was able to talk her way into being allowed to bring her professional camera and take pics through the camera holes in the glass?

i’ll give you a hint! she’s super hot, super smart, loves nicknames, and has a degree in ‘annoying her boyfriend’!

tagged jesperbratt, lhughes_06, dawson1417, jackhughes, nicohischier

Load more comments

john.marino97 i’m not featured?

y/ndevils00 do better

john.marino97 but i played good?

y/ndevils00 do. better.

john.marino97 @/dawson1417 translate?

dawson1417 she has my child hostage. i cannot translate.

john.marino97 @/dawson1417 your child?

dawson1417 …i’ve said too much

user74 omg PROFESSIONAL GRADE PHOTOS

jackhughes you are an odd duck, my love

y/ndevils00 why are you talking about trevor on MY post?

jackhughes why would you think i’m calling Z “my love”?

y/ndevils00 idk what y’all are into 🤷‍♀️

lhughes_06 thank you squish! but “munchkin”? you know i’m taller than you, right?

y/ndevils00 only physically

lhughes_06 i think that’s the only way that counts…

y/ndevils00 mentally? i could squash you. but i would never, because you’re my smush and ily

lhughes_06 mhm, i appreciate that

user62 where can i get a captain swiss slut? asking for a friend…

y/ndevils00 mine came from Bern! check there!

dawson1417 i’m a star 😊⭐️

y/ndevils00 YOU’RE A STAR!! AND YOU SHINE THE BRIGHTEST!!

dawson1417 and no do better?

y/ndevils00 no do better!! you did great!

john.marino97 i hate you both

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 you love us so much you could die

john.marino97 shut up 😒

jesperbratt i look good! 😄

y/ndevils00 you look like the sweet angel that you are!

nicohischier why do you always get me with my tongue out?

y/ndevils00 i have a sixth sense

nicohischier i thought your sixth sense was finding Jack when he’s on the ipad?

y/ndevils00 i have a seventh sense

nicohischier yeah, okay

user29 THE GOALIE TAPS

dougieham y/n, how do you feel that Jack wore a mouthguard tonight? 🎤

y/ndevils00 I FEEL GREAT! THE SUN IS SHINING, THE BIRDS ARE SINGING, THE FLOWERS ARE BLOOMING 🗣️

jackhughes you said you’d love me even without teeth 🤨

y/ndevils00 i don’t wanna test that theory

trevorzegras hot damn! my man is on fire! GO HUGHESY!

y/ndevils00 i’m gonna fly to anaheim and soak your pillow in vinegar

trevorzegras YOUR man is on fire!

y/ndevils00 that’s what i thought

#media management au!#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3 #faithlynn’s insta edits <3

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gaysindistress · 5 months

Text

Running from the Daylight - two

pairings: pirate!James “The Scourge of the Sea” Barnes x royal governor's daughter!reader

Summary: based on this request

Warnings: reader uses She/her/hers pronouns and is AFAB, mentions of the female body/parts, cursing, suggestive sexual content, violence and mentions of death, sexual content (p in v), some dark shit (like I can’t tag it without spoiling it but people get freaky over someone who’s bleeding) I'm actually awful at tagging things but there's smut. for the love of all things holy, do not read if you are a minor.

Word count: 3.6k

part one | my master list

Tag list: @talesofreading

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif, found on google/Pinterest/tumblr. Credits to @boltlightning for the gif on the bottom left & @owenhcrper for the gif on the bottom right

Begging, pleading, and sucking him dry did nothing to convince James that I’ve been ready to take his cock since that first night.

He would be a monster and allow me to believe that he would finally take me only to stop right before it went too far. He would give me hollow reasons like “the sea is too rough,” “you are too tired,” “we don’t have a proper bed and I will not take your maiden hood without one.”

Useless excuse after useless excuse was all I received for months on end. A part of me wondered if he was growing bored but when I confessed this to him, he spent the following several hours between my legs. He lapped and sucked at my core until I was crying and shaking but kept pulling climaxes from me until I very nearly passed out.

I tried to tempt him by wearing thin nightdresses or simply nothing at all but it all failed. I even convinced Natasha to play along with a scheme in which James would just so happen to find us in the middle of fucking but nothing. All he did was sit in his captain’s chair and watch with sharp eyes, occasionally telling us what to do.

Months of pent up frustration finally came to head when we docked in New Providence to replenish our supplies. My father had been overjoyed to see me again but his happy mood was as soiled when he observed the way that James and I were.

“My darling please tell me that he has not ruined you,” my father harshly whispers to me as he pulls me aside.

I gasp in disbelief and rip my arm away from him.

“Excuse me! You are not allowed to ask me such a thing!”

“I am your father, Y/N Stark. It is well within my rights to know if my daughter has been abused by a pirate.”

I catch the watchful eye of James as he’s instructing his crew and he gives me a concerned look. I brush it off and look back to my father.

“Your daughter has not been abused,” I sneer as I spot the Commodore approaching us, “I’ve been kept safe and protected.”

Steve makes a face at my words as he stops beside us but my father seems satisfied. He backs away and nods goodbye to us before retreating back to his fortress.

“You may speak freely with me; has the pirate lord abused you?”

“The only abuse to be had is that what my throat endures from taking his cock every night,” I calmly state before also leaving to find my captain. I don’t wait to hear or see Steve’s reaction but I can feel his piercing stare on my back.

“You said you wouldn’t fuck me until we had a proper bed,” I say lowly as I drop myself onto the canopied bed behind me, “and I think this meets that requirement.”

James narrows his bright eyes at me but doesn’t move from his place leaning against the raging fireplace. It’s odd seeing him look…normal? He’s out of place in this world of luxury and refinement but here in the room that I once called my own, he looks like he belongs. A part of me wishes to pretend that our pasts were different and that he had been the man who proposed to me, yearning for me for years. I wish that time had been kind to him and that it hadn’t stolen his heart and soul. I wish that I could’ve been the one he fell in love with all those years ago so he wouldn’t have had to face that curse. I wish we could delight in being together alone in my room at my father’s estate, a situation I would’ve blushed to even think about a few months ago. I wish we could ignore the reality of who we are and wholly engulf ourselves in the opportunity that presents itself.

“I did say that, didn’t I love?” He muses for a moment, allowing his eyes to trail down my barely covered body. I’d found an even thinner and smaller nightdress to wear for tonight, hoping that it might finally be what breaks him.

Maybe my last wish would come true.

He pushes off the mantle and prowls towards me. As he gets closer, my body starts to burn with anticipation and I inch back to accommodate his imposing stature. James knocks my legs apart with his knee and slots between them as he leans over me. Both hands cup my face and my eyes flutter closed at his warm touch. He dips down to whisper in my ear and chuckles when my breath hitches.

“You need sleep my love.”

I let out a snort, “no I do not. What I need is…”

He interrupts me with a gentle peck and mutters against my lips, “I know what you need and that is sleep.”

James presses another kiss to my lips with a subtle roll of his hips into mine while wearing a wicked smirk. I stick my tongue out at him as he pulls away and waits for me to settle into bed. He finds his place in the huge and ugly arm chair that my mother insisted I needed in front of the fireplace. His hat is sat on the small table beside him and his feet are kicked out in front of himself. Crossing his arms over his chest, James settles himself into the chair as if he’s going to sleep there and I frown at him.

“I can feel you thinking, love,” he quips and although I can’t see his face, I know there’s a smirk.

“Is that where you intend to sleep? In my armchair that I know is most certainly the most uncomfortable piece of furniture in this house?”

His shoulder shrugs and he makes a show of making himself comfortable with a loud sigh.

“It’s perfectly comfortable to me, your highness,” the jab at my upbringing doesn’t go unnoticed, not with the way he elongates the word and lowers his voice.

Scoffing, I throw a pillow at him and he chuckles when it flies past, missing him.

“Remind me to work on your aim in the morning,” he teases me before adding that I need to be going to sleep.

“We’re not on your ship anymore so you’re not my captain,” I snipe and that catches his attention. He perks up and goes to say something smart back but the doors fly open, slamming against the poor walls.

James stays seated albeit ready to jump up if needed. Seeing as he’s playing it cool, I do the same and remain tucked into my bed.

The person who dared interrupt our night is none other than the Commodore. He stands at his full height with a scroll in his hand as he glares at James.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of being granted your presence so late at night, commodore?” James mocks as he watches Steve.

The wigged man says nothing but sends a death glare towards the pirate before looking at me. He takes a step towards me and James makes a clicking noise, telling him to stay put.

“Y/N,” Steve starts as he ignores the subtle warning, “your father has found a way to free you from your deal with this vile creature.”

I glance around him at James who’s smirking to himself and raises one dark brow at me. He’s no longer stretched out like a cat but instead is leaning back against the chair with his head resting on his fist as he watches us.

Turning my attention back to Steve, I ask him to elaborate and elaborate he does.

“You were under duress. You cannot be expected to uphold a deal that you made when you were in fear for your life. Your father and I handled everything, Y/N, all you need to do is say that you were afraid for your life and otherwise would not have made the deal.”

In another life the gut wrenching way that Steve is pleading with me would’ve worked. I would’ve jumped up and ran for him, falling into his arms as I sobbed that I was afraid. I would’ve taken his hand and begged him to save me for the sake of being free from a pirate even if it meant being in debt to him for life.

That is if I hadn’t met James; the man who’s shown my unconditional and undying affection. The man that has sworn to protect me and honor me as if I were his ruling goddess. The man that has seen parts of me that no other man has and the man that I want to know every inch of me, mental and physical.

“Steve, ever the gentleman,” I coo as I push the blankets from my lap and slide off my bed.

“There is but one fault in your proposal,” I state as I softly pad toward the two men, “I was not under duress. I was not afraid for my life by any stretch of the imagination. I was not afraid at all, in fact, I felt the safest I had in years in that moment.”

I can feel the heat of James’ stare on me as I come to stand beside him and continue to tear Steve apart.

“If anything, I was concerned for your life but not afraid. I knew that James would not harm or otherwise act in a way that would scare me. I knew that he would agree to my terms but you,” I point at him and allow my voice to become more harsh, “you were the one I was afraid of. You’ve always been a liability, never quite knowing when you’re going to lash out on those around you. You’ve always freighted me and that night at the bar only solidified my fears that you would cause me harm. Even if my life depended on it, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you or went back with you that day on the Serpent’s Cry. Quite frankly, Steve, I’m perfectly content being bound to this vile creature.”

James snorts from behind me and wraps an arm around me, tugging me to sit on his lap. Steve is fuming, his face turning red with anger at my lecture and I know he’s plotting both of our demises.

The man beneath me grips my chin and tilts my head down so that he can capture my lips in a heated kiss. My hands fly to tangle into his hair as his tongue swipes at my bottom lip. A moan tumbles from me when the hand gripping my chin slides to cup the back of neck.

“Enough!” Steve’s voice rings out and he storms towards us to rip me away.

The familiar cock of a gun halts him and he frantically looks down to see a readied pistol pointing at him. It had been lying under James’ hat, hidden from plain sight so Steve had no chance to draw his open weapon.

James has the audacity to look bored as he holds the weapon and rubs small circles into my hip with his other hand.

“Out,” he orders in a low rumbling voice.

Steve, however, the oaf of a man takes another step forward and James rolls his eyes.

“Is pain the only way you learn, Commodore? Out before I shoot your cock off.”

Steve scoffs at the crude words and I stifle a giggle while tucking my face into James’ neck. He shudders slightly at the feeling and squeezes my hip.

“Y/N,” Steve tries to appeal to me but I’m not having any of it. I begin to plant wet kisses on James’ neck and nip at the soft skin occasionally. Steve calls to me again and I suck a deep red, nearly purple mark into the pirate’s neck which earns me a throaty groan.

A series of sounds ring out and I jolt away from my haven. First is the sound of Steve stepping forward, a gun shot, a cry of pain, and a thud as Steve falls to the ground. With wide eyes I try to look at him but James catches my face in a tight hold, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Don't look at him, love. Eyes on me, understood?” He whispers, letting his lips dance over mine and holding my eye contact with a fierce look swirling in his blue eyes.

I manage a small nod and he smiles at me before addressing Steve who’s clutching his leg.

“I warned you and you did not listen. As far as I’m concerned, you are to blame for the state of your leg. Now I suggest you drag your cowardly self out of this room before I do depart your cock from your body as I promised."

Lost in the way his eyes captive me and his words cause a fire to ignite in my body, I don’t hear Steve’s protests that break through the cries of pain. It’s not until James breaks our trance and rolls his eyes that I realize our situation. I still obey James and don’t look by hiding my face in his neck once again. He coos to me to go to my bed and turn away from them as he helps me stand.

“Keep your eyes on the ground for me,” he tells me when my hand slips from his and I cautiously make my way to my bed.

From behind me, I hear James let out an exaggerated sigh and the crackling of leather from him bending down.

“You’ve shot my leg, how am I to be expected to leave?” Steve hisses through the agonizing pain.

“Drag yourself like the worm you are. It's none of my concern how you choose to obey my command."

“I will not leave her alone with such a demonic savage like yourself.”

There’s a pause, a tension filled pause as I assume James debates what to do. However his next words are not exactly what I was expecting.

“Pain doesn't seem to be a strong enough deterrent for you, Commodore. Remember; you are to blame for your current situation,” he huffs as he yanks Steve up and drops him into the chair we’d been sitting in.

“Love hand me the sheet,” he says to me without looking.

I quickly bundle up the item he’s asking for and toss it to him. I want to ask what he’s planning but it becomes clear when he starts to wrap it around Steve.

“Since you refuse to leave her alone with such a demonic savage, as you put it so beautifully, you’ll have to watch her damnation.”

Steve lets out a roar of protest and it met with a pistol pressed under his jaw.

“You were told to leave and you did not. Seeing her defiled and ravished as she deserves is a fitting punishment. I think this is preferable to death but I am not the true judge. Love?”

The nickname catches me off guard and my eyes dart between them but it’s the stormy eyes of James that are given my full attention.

“What do you think? Should I grant him mercy and kill him before you take my cock? Or should he watch as I take what he's desired for years?"

As I fail to answer, James adds, "I will only do this if this is what you want. If not, I’m more than happy to show him just how acquainted with the devil I am.”

Words escape me and I just nod.

Apparently that’s not good enough.

“Use your words love. Tell us what you want.”

“I…fuck,” I mumble under my breath and James’ smirk spreads across his face. He knows that I want this, that I want nothing more than for him to finally take me even if it means Steve is forced to watch.

“I don’t think the Commodore heard you. Louder.”

“Yes. I want this. I want you. I want you to take me.”

James cocks a brow at Steve with a sinister smirk, “it appears that your pure angel wants me to defile her while you watch.”

The tied up man jerks forward with a threat on his lips and james lets out a terrifying laugh. He ignores the protests and calls me over with the hook of his finger. My body is trembling as I let my feet touch the ground and nearly stumble as I try to walk. Steve must think it’s out of fear but my captain knows it’s due to anticipation.

I stop at his side and James draws away from the injured man to wrap an arm around me. Pulling me in front of him, my back is to his chest and I’m facing Steve. James keeps his gun pointed at him while bending his head to my ear and whispering to me.

“You tell me when you want to stop, understood?“ he tells me in a voice so low I almost don’t hear him. When I don’t acknowledge his statement, he squeezes my hip with his free hand and repeats it.

Breathlessly I agree, “Yes, please James. I need you.”

He nudges my legs apart and drifts his hand from my hip to my core, pulling up my night dress in the process. My head lolls back, falling onto his shoulder and he captures my lips in a searing kiss. Moans and sighs fall without hesitation as he begins to run firm but slow circles into the bundle of nerves that only he can seem to find. His name becomes a chorus that is caught between our lips as the pressure builds within my core. He releases my lips and lets me sing my song for Steve to hear clearly. I feel him smile against my temple as I grow louder and louder. Just as I’m about reach my climax, he pulls his hand away and I nearly cry. A few tears leak from my eyes and he coos sweetly to me.

“Shhhhh love, I promised to defile you and I intend to do that. Lean forward and put your hands on his shoulders.”

“James,” I whimper when I feel him back away.

“Do as you’re told.”

The sounds of his belt and pants dropping silences me. I lean forward and with hazy eyes, look Steve straight on as my hands grip his shoulders. There’s a fire burning in his light eyes and I’ve come to know what it truly is. He can try to deny it but we all know watching me is causing him to grow hard and angry.

“Y/N,” his voice breaks as he whispers my name and I blink hard trying to look at him.

The heavy heat of James behind me distracts me and I drop my head at the feeling of him rutting against me.

He taunts Steve with cruel words as he drags the head of his cock through my folds and pulls wanton moans from my swollen lips.

“James,” I plead, “please.”

He coos mockingly as he lines himself up.

“Louder, my love. I don’t think your fiancé heard you.”

“He’s not my fiancé,” I grit out angrily but it falls flat when he pushes his entire length inside of me. It turns into a wince and pained moan but he doesn’t pull out. He keeps it there, watching me struggle with the pain that morphs into blinding pleasure. Only when I push back against him does he withdraws a few inches but keeps most of his length inside me as he starts to rock his hips into me. He’s slow and deliberate at first, focusing on pulling the loudest and most embarrassing moans he can from me but as his own body betrays him, his hips increase their pace.

Below me Steve is a mess. His breathing is ragged and the color is draining from his face as the blood loss becomes too much. I can’t bare to look at him and James must see that in the way I keep my head bent down. A sharp tug on my hair forces my head up and I see the devastation written lines on his face. The cold barrel on a gun rubs against my scalp and it dawns on me that the hand that’s in my hair is holding the gun. He grunts as he pumps his dick into me and I cry out as pleasure washes over me. He keeps one hand coiled into my hair as the other slips to my core, rubbing me and drawing my climax from me.

James tugs me up against his chest and I tilt my head back to rest against his shoulder as we continue to move against each other. His cock drags against my walls in a nearly painful way but I don't care. I’m pulsing around him and pleading with him to let go with me. As my eyes flutter shut from the white hot pleasure, he tugs my hair again and demands I look at Steve.

“Look at the Commodore, love. Look at what just watching you does to him,” he mumbles against the skin of my neck. My eyes are heavy and it’s a struggle to do as I’m told but I do and it earns me my climax.

James thrusts up hard one final time and we’re both moaning as I finish. He’s not far behind and groans out my name as he releases his hot seed into me. We’re a panting mess as he slows and eventually stops. He loosens his grip on my hair with a sweet kiss to my temple and whispers praise into my ear.

Intertwined in those sweet phrases is a promise and at first I think it’s for me. Only when the second shot of the night rings out do I realize that it was intended for Steve.

“I hope for your sake that your false god takes pity on you and allows you to die before morning.”

With that he tucks himself back into his pants and lifts me into his arms. My final memory of commodore will be blurred in pleasure and blood but I don’t care. He can bleed out for all I care after he dared to lay a hand on me and insult the man I love.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #running from the daylight bucky #pirate bucky x y/n #pirate bucky x you #pirate bucky imagine #pirate bucky x reader #pirate au #bucky smut #pirate Bucky smut #smut #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut

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vodika-vibes · 2 months

Note

I seriously love your work and I’m so glad I caught your follower celebration in time!! May I please have jonquil and coriander with Captain Rex and F!Reader? Reader is a mechanic for the 501st? And Rex secretly loves her and carries her back to her quarters when she dozes off at her workstation in the hangar after long nights post-campaigns when she’s exhausted and is insanely curious about her tattoos that peek out from under her coveralls?

It's A Secret

Summary: You want Rex. Rex wants you. It takes a long night and a short conversation to make either of you do anything about it.

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 1619

Warnings: Smutty, though there's no actual detail

Prompts: Jonquil - you occupy my thoughts, Coriander - lust

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope this is okay! The actual smut didn't feel right for some reason, so I ended up deleting it. Sorry. 😔

You release an exhausted noise as you finish the last of the items on your list. As much as you enjoy your job, and as much as you appreciate the fact that you’re useful to the war effort, it’s still exhausting.

You end each day with aching muscles and an exhausted brain.

And while you’re glad for it, it makes it easy to sleep, you’re more than ready for the war to be over. Partly because you haven’t had a proper spa day in what feels like forever, but mostly because you’re worried for the boys you serve with, and you want them to take a break.

They deserve a break.

You stretch your arms over your head with a groan. All you have to do is clean up your mess and then you’re free for the night. Free to shower and crash.

Ugh, imagine having time for fun.

“Still hard at work, I see.”

You turn on your stool and beam at the man standing only a little bit away from you, “Captain! Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Rex absently rolls his shoulder as he walks over to you, and you can’t help but marvel at how handsome he is. Sure, he looks like all of his brothers, but there’s something…regal about him.

It’s insanely attractive.

“Any word from up high on how much longer we’re going to be here?” You ask as you hop from your stool and start cleaning up, “I’m not sure how much longer the equipment is going to tolerate the muck.” You say with a scrunch of your nose.

Rex laughs quietly as he claims your abandoned stool, “The equipment or you, mesh’la?”

“Both!” You spin and point at him with a wrench, “The equipment is absorbing my bad vibes. I’m so tired of the muck!”

Rex laughs a little louder, “Sadly, we’re going to be here for a couple months more.”

“I deserve hazard pay.” You announce as you turn and throw your wrench into its place, and then walk back to your bench and organize some things that stay on your table.

“Mm, sure you do.”

You turn away from him and sigh at the mess that is the shelving. You really don’t have time to deal with this during the day, but it needs to be done. So you take a steadying breath, and pull your hair up off your neck into a knot, and you start to work.

Though, you pause when you hear Rex make a strangled noise.

“Something wrong?”

“Is that a tattoo on your neck?” Rex asks, his voice sounding odd.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I have a bunch of them. Just, they’re normally hidden under my jumpsuit.” You flash a small grin at him, and then turn your back towards him.

“Huh. I didn’t know you had any.” Rex admits, and you turn back to look at him when you hear him get to his feet, “I should go make sure that Fives isn’t harassing Jesse too much. Don’t work too hard, Mesh’la.”

“Sure, sure.” You wave him off, “I have to finish this, though. So I’ll be here for a while.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re able to focus.

Honestly, you’d think that the other mechanics would know how to clean up after themselves.

It’s late. Late enough that even he should be asleep, but Rex is filled with a nervous energy that he can’t seem to shake.

Well. Not nervous. Not really.

His mind is locked on the flash of blue he caught a glimpse of on his mesh’la’s neck. He is insanely curious about what tattoos she has, and, honestly, the fact that she has tattoos at all only increases his attraction to her.

And he already fists his cock to the thought of her lips wrapped around him on a nightly basis.

Well.

Not just her lips.

In any event, he’s wound too tightly to actually get any sleep.

So here he is, wandering the ship, trying to get his mind off his mesh’la and her tattoos, and failing.

His feet bring him to the hanger, and then to the corner of the hanger where the maintenance team works. Sure, she won’t still be there, but being in her space might help him clear his mind.

Rex stops when he sees his mesh’la dozing at her workbench.

He should leave. He shouldn’t bother her. She works so hard-

He steps closer to her and brushes some loose hair off of her face. She shouldn’t be sleeping here, it’s not good for her back. He moves his hand to her shoulder, to shake her awake, when she mumbles something in her sleep and buries herself in her arms.

And Rex realizes that he can’t wake her up.

He knows where her room is, he could carry her to her room, but he doesn’t know the door code. He has no reason to know the door code. The medbay is an option, there are plenty of beds…but Kix’s head will explode if he brings someone there because he doesn’t want to wake her up.

The only other option is his bed.

He stamps down on the images flashing through his mind without really giving them a second thought. She’s tired, overworked, and needs someplace to sleep. He can sleep on the floor or at his desk or something.

Carefully he lifts her into his arms, and she whines before she rolls towards the warmth of his body.

Well…at least it’s late enough that no one is going to give him a hard time about this. Or her, for that matter.

Rex makes it back to his room in record time, and makes sure that the door is locked behind him, before he carefully settles his mesh’la on his bed. He removes her boots, and sets them next to the bed, and then he covers her with the blanket, and he steps away to sit at his desk.

He powers on his datapad and starts reading through some reports. It’s too bad that she never bothered to change out of her jumpsuit. He really is curious about her tattoos.

You stir when something wakes you up.

You’re curled around a pillow, though it’s not your pillow. It doesn’t smell like your shampoo, and you slowly realize that you’re not in your room. You blink at the bare wall in utter bafflement, and then you sit up.

“...Rex?”

He looks up from his datapad, and a small smile crosses his face, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“...why am I in your room?” You ask, more confused than upset.

“You fell asleep at your workstation, and I didn’t want to leave you there. And it felt wrong waking you up.” Rex explains.

You glance at your chrono, 2 am “...have you been awake this whole time?”

“...I couldn’t sleep, so-”

You scramble out of the bed, “Rex! You need your sleep!”

“I wasn’t about to sleep in the same bed as you, mesh’la.” Rex points out.

“That’s very sweet, and very respectful, but Rex, I wouldn’t have cared.” You say as you walk over to him and pull him out of his chair, “You’re you.”

“...thank you?”

“I just meant. I trust you. I feel safe with you. I know you would never do anything.” You clarify.

“Ah.” Rex pauses, “That makes sense.” He lightly pulls his arm out of your hands, and sets his hand on your shoulder, “I would have to lay pretty close to you for us both to fit, mesh’la, practically on top of you.”

You release a frustrated noise, and stand on your toes to kiss the corner of his lips.

He blinks at you, surprised, and then something almost predatory slides through his gaze, “Mesh’la, I want to see your tattoos.” His hand slides to the zipper high at your neck, “Can I see them?”

You frown at him, you just kissed him and he wants to see your tattoos? That’s not at all how you wanted him to react. “Yeah, if you like.”

He eases the zipper all the way down, and then he pushes the rough material off your shoulders. You move to catch the top of your jumpsuit before it falls too far, but Rex is faster than you.

He catches your wrists and allows the material to fall around your feet. Rex brings your hands to his lips and he presses feather light kisses against the pads of your fingers, and you stare at him in awe.

“Rex-”

“Do you have any idea how much I want you?” Rex asks, his voice low and rough.

“...tell me.” You whisper up to him.

Rex’s hands slide up your arms, and then down your slides to lightly grip your hips. “Mm, I fist my cock to you every night.” He breathes out, his grip tight around your hips, “You’re always the first thing I think of when I wake up. I have dreams about burying my cock into you and fucking you into my bed until I’m the only thing on your brain.”

You slide your hands up his chest and then wrap your arms around his neck, “What else?”

He chuckles and he moves his lips to your neck, “Love the idea of marking you up. Making sure everyone knows that you’re spoken for.”

You release a breathless laugh, “Possessive.”

“Mm, maybe.” He nips at your neck, “I want you in my bed, pretty girl. Naked and wet and needy-” He trails off, dragging his lips from your neck to your ear, “What do you think?”

“Please.” You whisper up to him.

In the end, Rex wasn’t able to see your tattoos until morning as he was a little…distracted.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #18+ fic #clone thirsting #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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lisbeth-kk · 11 months

Text

Clues

Thanks for the prompt @calaisreno and the tag @raina-at

Sometimes you need a push.

“You’re going to lose him, you know,” Molly says earnestly.

Sherlock just huffs, focusing on the fingernails on the corpse they’re examining.

When they’ve concluded, Molly continues the one-sided conversation.

“He’ll get tired of waiting. You must know how he feels about you by now, Sherlock. It’s totally obvious, but he’s not exactly…”

“Gay, you mean,” Sherlock snaps at her, puts on his Belstaff with his usual flaunt and exits the morgue.

He gets a text from John in the cab.

Ordered sushi. Can you pick up a few bottles of wine on the way?

Consider it done. SH

He gets some funny emoji in return. A blue-grey two headed thing. When he searches the emoji bar, he finds it next to the lungs. Maybe John’s just touched the wrong one, though none of the other emojis stands out, if you don’t count the inner organs like heart and brain.

Sherlock starts to ponder Molly’s words after he’s stopped for wine. Losing John. Just two words but the meaning of those words is something Sherlock can’t think about without getting nauseous. And then it’s the other thing Molly mentioned. How John feels about him. Sherlock knows John loves him. As a friend, but it stops there, doesn’t it? Has John ever shown interest in Sherlock in a more romantic way? If so, he's hidden it well. From Sherlock at least. There have been no clues. Perhaps Molly just sees what she wants to see. That must be it. She’s a romantic soul, and clearly wants Sherlock to have what she has with…Peter? No, Patrick…Paul? Never mind.

***

They’ve eaten and finished one bottle of wine. John’s eager to open a second one.

“You’ve got excellent taste in wine, Sherlock,” John beams as he struggles with the cork.

“Need a hand with that?” Sherlock offers amused.

John’s getting tipsy, and it’s a state Sherlock can appreciate. When he let’s go of his Britishness, John gets all affectionate and flirty, and sometimes Sherlock craves that. Craves John’s attention. His indisputable admiration. The aftermath of such events can be devastating for Sherlock. When John apologises, gets awkward, goes for long walks, and dates for several weeks. Tonight though, Sherlock decides to push John a bit. He’s gotten a bit tipsy himself, and Molly’s words refuses to leave him alone. What if John feels…

“There!”

John interrupts his train of thought when he finally manages to open the wine bottle. He grins at Sherlock.

“Some more wine, gorgeous? You’re glass is empty,” John states and concentrates while pouring wine into both glasses.

Did John just call him gorgeous?

John’s never called him anything like that before. Git, twat, idiot, and his name in all variations, but never endearments. Could that be a sign, or is John too inebriated to notice what he’s said? He needs more data.

“You seem happy today. Any particular reason?” Sherlock prompts, fishing for clues to John’s odd behaviour.

John clears his throat and blushes a bit. It’s quite adorable.

Adorable! Since when did he start using words like that? Too much wine probably.

“I just…um…realised something,” John begins, not looking at Sherlock, instead seems to find his socks quite fascinating.

Sherlock waits for John to continue. It takes a numerous amount of time. When he speaks again, his voice is almost sober and there’s a hint of captain Watson in his stance.

“I’ve decided to stop dating,” John exclaims.

Sherlock’s heart skips a beat at that. Molly was right. He’s going to lose John. Stop dating means that John’s found a woman he wants to settle down with, get engaged to, marry, have kids with. It means John’s leaving Baker Street. His brain buzzes and Sherlock’s afraid he’s going to black out. John has apparently continued talking, but Sherlock hasn’t heard a word. Three words are playing in his mind making him want to vomit.

I’m losing him!

***

Sherlock feels warm, steady and familiar hands on his knees. Thumbs stroking, soothing. John’s voice soft and concerned, now forming coherent words.

“Hey. You alright, Sherlock? What happened? Didn’t you hear me?”

Sherlock blinks rapidly and John’s face comes into focus. His blue gaze has a lovely expression.

Of course it does. He’s finally found the love of his life!

He closes his eyes. Can’t stand to see all that joy directed at a person that’s not Sherlock. His eyes prickle. He can’t cry in front of John. Pinches his thighs to redirect the pain and focus on that instead of the ache in his heart. He knows he’s failed miserably when he feels John’s hand on his cheek.

“Look at me, Sherlock. Please don’t panic. I can…um…just. Damn, I got the clues wrong, didn’t I? Sorry.”

John withdraws and Sherlock’s suddenly cold, bereft of the warmth of John’s proximity. He opens his eyes. John’s standing by the window, a hand over his eyes, silently cursing himself. Sherlock walks over to him, uncertain how to proceed.

“John. What did I do wrong? I’m sorry. I should’ve congratulated you, but I was caught off guard. Didn’t observe.”

John looks over at him incredulously.

“What?” he asks.

Stupid! Stupid!

Sherlock pulls at his hair in frustration. How can he fix this?

In the end he doesn’t have to. John, wonderful John, his conductor of light, his beloved John solves the puzzle.

He closes the gap between them, takes Sherlock’s hands and squeezes.

“I should’ve known you would go offline and draw the wrong conclusions at that outburst. It was stupid of me. I’m sorry. I was just so damn happy. No, Sherlock, don’t,” John says when Sherlock’s about to withdraw his hands.

“I’m rubbish at this aren’t I? The thing is, Sherlock. The reason I’m giving up dating, well, it’s you.”

John looks up at Sherlock, his feelings laid bare. His eyes are so full of…it can’t be, can it? Love? Surely Sherlock’s mistaken.

“John?” Sherlock whispers.

John lets go of his hands and cradles his face instead, his thumbs stroking his cheekbones. Sherlock closes his eyes and revels in the unfamiliar sensation.

“Look at you,” John murmurs. “So beautiful.”

The awe and affection in his voice, makes Sherlock shiver. He opens his eyes, feeling brave, desperately hoping he’s read the signs correctly. When their eyes meet, Sherlock knows. Knows why John’s giving up dating. It’s written all over John’s face. He lowers his head, reasting their foreheads together.

“You love me?” Sherlock asks shakily.

“God, yes, Sherlock,” John says and beams at him. “Can I kiss you?”

Sherlock doesn’t answer, but acts. He places his hands on John’s shoulders and finds John’s lips with his own. Soft and tender kisses turns deeper, and Sherlock feels like his body’s filled with fireworks. It sparkles all over. In his stomach, thighs, calves, arms, fingers, and god, when John runs his fingers through Sherlock’s hair, he moans with pleasure.

“Jesus,” John whispers reverently. “Your voice!”

***

It turns out that the two women closest to John and Sherlock had taken matters into their own hands. Both Molly and Mrs. Hudson were at their wits end when it came to the clueless men. Mrs. Hudson had warned John with more or less the same words Molly had used to get Sherlock’s attention, and in the end, it worked out perfectly.

“Witchcraft,” Sherlock mutters once he and John had compared stories.

“Well, I prefer to call it magic, my love,” John says gleefully and traces his fingers down Sherlock’s naked body.

“You’re one to talk,” Sherlock gasps as John’s fingers find his nipples.

John laughs in a low, wicked voice, and Sherlock shivers in anticipation. Witchcraft or magic, he doesn’t care. He makes a mental note to buy the two women flowers or…

“Focus on me, Sherlock,” John whispers, and Sherlock’s nothing but obedient.

Cunning women working their magic on the boys. The story almost wrote itself when that idea emerged in my mind.

@totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @topsyturvy-turtely @peanitbear @missdeliadili

#sherlock fandom #johnlock #sherlock #sherlock fanfic #john watson #ao3 fanfic #may prompts #clues

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laylaswriting · 1 year

Text

Bloodstream Chapter IX. - Pirate

MASTERPOST | Ao3 | Wattpad Title: Bloodstream Chapter IX. - Pirate Pairing: Killian Jones x fem!reader Word count: 1.6k Warnings: none Tags: drama, angst, mutual pining/tension Synopsis: Hook confronts reader about last night's events. A/N: I'm sorry I made you guys wait for so long. I got very insecure about this story and was not sure if I'll even publish the updates. The story will follow reader's story more in the future episodes and will include more backstory, so I'm sorry if that's not your cup of tea. I hope you'll still enjoy ❤

The next morning, she woke up with a terrible headache, like thousands of hammers were banging on her brain at the same time. She slowly blinked her eyes open to see her crewmates still sound asleep. It was still fairly dark; the sun didn’t rise above the horizon yet.

She decided to take a breath of fresh air, hoping it would ease the unpleasant feeling of being hangover for the first time in her life. She slowly walked onto the deck where she could only see Mr. Smee at the wheel. She nodded his way and he mirrored the gesture but they didn’t speak a word.

The chilly morning breeze caused a shiver to run down her spine as she stepped to the railing of the Jolly Roger, looking out at the seemingly endless sea. The first rays of sunshine shimmered on the water’s surface, painting the dark blue ocean in all shades of red and orange.

She heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the deck, coming from the captain’s cabin. She didn’t turn for a second – her feelings were all so mixed in her head. She wanted to confront him, to ask him all the questions she had in her mind. She wanted to earn some kind of reaction out of him. But after a short while she turned towards the sound of the voice, straightening her back before she spoke.

“Good morning, Captain.”

“Morning sailor” he replied with no emotion on his face. She mirrored his expression. “Don’t you have tasks to take care of?”

She opened and closed her mouth before she replied with a nod, averting her gaze from him.

“Then I recommend you get to them if you want to stay on the ship.” Without anything else left to say, he headed towards the quarterdeck to take the wheel from Mr. Smee, who then started with his daily tasks. His words cut through her skin and straight to her heart.

She headed down to the small kitchen area and started to organize the things in there. She kept stock of all the food they had – therefore she knew they had to stop by somewhere to get more supplies soon. Their food wasn’t going to last much longer.

That knowledge and his words from this morning settled in her brain and the fear of being abandoned in a random town made her worry grow by the moment. Would he really do that?

That night on the quarterdeck he said he wouldn’t just toss her out from the crew. But what if he changed his mind? What if she really was more of a burden than a useful addition to the crew? The thoughts in her head were so loud she didn’t even notice that Ribs entered the small kitchen only when his huge hands landed on her back in a gentle pat. At least he meant it to be gentle.

“You’re early, little man! Couldn’t sleep again?”

“You know it” she replied with a sad smile. He smiled back at her and grabbed the biggest pot off the ground. They didn’t speak much after that, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was a comfortable, warm silence between friends where they felt good in each other’s company without the need to say anything.

The days went by mostly the same – she thought. It was strange, the thrill and excitement of life as a sailor - a pirate -, washed away by the monotone daily tasks on the ship. She didn’t mind it per se, it just felt odd to think about how “normal” as a concept can change for a person so fast.

Chatter and the sound of footsteps filled the air as everyone else was getting up after a long night out and started to perform their duties. She said hi to James who also was battling a violent headache after one too many sips of rum last night. She chuckled and helped her friend out. Mr. Smee and the Captain were barking orders left and right at the crew, they needed to change directions and align the sails.

As she was pulling on the rope, she suddenly felt a hand wrap around her own and pulled with her. For a second, she didn’t register who it belonged to but after she saw the rings on his finger and his black shirt, her heart skipped a beat.

“I want to talk to you” he said in a low voice. She only replied with a nod and after she fastened the rope to its spot she followed after him into his cabin. Her heart stammered against her ribcage as she sluggishly moved towards the cabin. She hasn’t stepped a foot in there since that night.

It looked and felt the same, the smell of old parchment, paper and leather filled her nose as she stood against the door. He was looking at a map on the table, but she knew he wasn’t really paying attention to that. Nobody said a word for what felt like eternity.

“Look, I-“ she started, not knowing exactly what to say but he interrupted her.

“That song. You said your mother taught it to you?” He looked up from the map and she felt his eyes pierce through her soul. Lately she didn’t afford the luxury to make long eye contact with him, because every time she did her heart dropped into her stomach and this time was no exception.

“Well, she didn’t teach me. She just sang it to me when I couldn’t fall asleep as a child. I was very small when she died” she said, making a pause and swallowing hard to keep her tears at bay. “It’s one of my only memories of her.” There was a moment of silence after her reply, Hook just stood next to the table and stared at it.

“How did she meet your father?”

“What’s going on?” She asked and crossed her arms. Hook mirrored the gesture as he looked at her without saying anything for a moment. This whole scene was so strange – she thought. What was going on with him?

“Your mother. Was she a sailor? Your grandfather maybe? Where did she learn this song?”

“What? No. My mother, she lived all her life in our town.” Her heartbeat fastened at the implications behind his question. She got more confused by the second and just wanted answers about all this. What was so special about this song? “She could’ve heard it from some travelers.”

“That’s very unlikely.” He shook his head. “Your father lived there all his life as well?”

“Yes.” Her patience was growing thinner by the second.

“Maybe he lied.”

“What are you implying?!” She snapped, putting her arms on her hips while her eyes were throwing daggers at Hook. “That my father is a liar? That my mother was a pirate?! Because of one song?” She almost spat the word pirate, which made him close the gap between them with huge leaps and the next thing she knew was his arm next to her head, his body almost flushed against hers.

“Now-now, is being a pirate so bad?” He sneered, raising his hook next to her head. She felt her hand tremble and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was scared or because his presence made her head spin. “The lady didn’t seem to mind all this time, freeloading on my ship, eating my food, sleeping in my bed!”

His voice was roaring and it echoed back from the walls. He put his hook under her chin and lifted her head to match his gaze. His eyes were piercing into hers and she wanted to avert her look but she couldn’t. She was so angry at him – but she was also scared. Scared of being alone, losing her family once again. Losing him forever. No matter how angry she was at him or how distant he was, in the back of her mind she knew she wanted him close.

“That is not what I meant” she breathed as her heartbeat rose to the skies above.

“I’m sure you didn’t, love. If it’s so awful for you here, feel free to hop off next town. Shouldn’t be more than a few days.” He stepped away from her and opened the door of his cabin, signaling for her to leave. She swallowed the lump in her throat and headed to the deck with quick steps. Some curious sets of eyes were glued to her, but she paid no attention to them. She felt nauseous from the events that just unfolded, tears prickling her eyes from being so overwhelmed with emotion.

She stood next to James and leaned against the railing, gripping it so hard her knuckles turned white.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he put one of his hands on her shoulder.

“Splendid” she replied when they heard a voice coming from the quarterdeck. It was Hook.

“Get to work lads, we are headed towards a port at full sails! If all goes well, we should arrive in a day or two!” He gestured at the crew with his good arm and put his hook on his belt. His eyes scanned the deck and they lingered on her, his gaze piercing through her skull. James squeezed her shoulder and she averted her gaze.

The captain then left the quarterdeck and went back to the cabin, slamming its door behind him. She let out a shaky breath then went back to her duties. She was preparing to say goodbye to her friends once they hit the shore.

#killian jones #captain hook #fanfiction #ff #series #killian jones x reader #captain hook x reader #killian x reader #hook x reader #angst #drama #mystery #romance #slow burn #x reader #imagine #fanfic

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leighsartworks216 · 1 year

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Dogs in Space

ISWM Crew + Captain!reader (Slight Captaineer if you squint)

Requested by anon:

“Hi yes uh... this is my very first time requesting anything from anyone so I'm sorry if I come off as awkward but... this might be an odd request, but could you possibly write some HCs for ISWM about a captain who has a dog, and brings them onto the ship??? Like, how would everyone react, how would it play out, etc. (with perhaps a side of captaineer too?👉👈)”

I'm basing this off my own dog who is a medium-sized, black schipperke mix. As such I will be using she/her pronouns to refer to her and referencing some of her mannerisms :)

Warnings: slight slight SLIGHT angst if you look hard enough, fluff

Word Count: 453

Masterlist

Tag List Form

I feel like a new large space is intimidating for a little dog (who has anxiety 💀)

So like that bumpy ride at the start?? Awful. Everyone is stressed, she is whining and barking and upset

Mark tried welcoming you aboard and you’re just carrying a dog like “HI YEAH WHERE ARE MY QUARTERS”

Pupper calms down a bit once she’s in a quiet place

You refuse to go into warp until doggo is calmed down enough

Which results in settling her in an observation lounge and having every crew member come in one by one to sit on the floor and introduce themselves

Mark absolutely LOVES your doggo

Because it means Chica will have a friend!!!

But he gets so sad when she doesn’t sit in his lap like she sits in yours

Bc she is so determined to always find a way to sit in your lap

Celci enjoys the new animal addition to the crew

(Plus doggo adjusts to her faster than the others)

(Don’t tell Mark)

Gunther doesn’t get it

It’s such a small dog, bad for combat

It can’t hold a gun or maul something on command, so… What’s the point??

Burt is the calmest when introduced

He sits on the floor with you and does everything he can not to stress her out

You tell him that she has anxiety and is super nervous rn

And he recites some profound soliloquy about life and how fear is the normal order of the universe

She sits in his lap first

You’re slow to introduce her to Chica

And she’s slow to come around

But soon she realizes she has a new playmate and they run around chasing each other

Two dogs to help with anxiety now!!

Chica is calm, will go to you and just let you pet her or hug her or whatever you could possibly need to get the stress out

Your dog just absolutely begs to be pet and will throw a fuss if she doesn’t get the pets she so rightfully deserves (paws at them, whines like she’s starved for affection, huffs, etc etc)

The humor is what helps the anxiety

During the whole wormhole thing you are so goddamn stressed about the dogd all the time

Mark watches you efficiently disable/repair all the haywire systems in seconds without wavering and he knows it’s because of the doggos

He doesn’t blame you

After you find a planet and actually have two minutes to yourself, you call Mark and Chica to your place for a play date

You both just lay on the floor, trying not to cry or get overwhelmed with the memories of what happened, while your dogs cuddle up into you

---

Tag List:

@writeawaythepain

@hyperfixat

@cryptidjester

@your-voice-is-mellifluous

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highviews · 2 years

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CHAPTER 2: Bluebells WORD COUNT: 5.3k TAGS: Slow Romance, Business Partners to Lovers, Awkward Flirting, Romantic Tension, Sexual Tension, this is going to be so sappy and delicious prepare yourselves, Original Character(s), Reader Has A Name, Politics, Eventual Smut.

The amount of letters William Vangeance has to sift through on the days within his office is one too many. Most of them had come from Julius, who was the biggest perpetrator of them all.

He goes picking through which he will need to answer quickly versus the ones that really carry no substance or worth wasting ink over.

‘William, please ensure that you will attend this month’s meeting,’ of course. It’s already well documented in his schedule.

‘William, remember to come out and enjoy a nice dinner at the palace with the king to arrange for meetings with eligible noblemen to discuss your future heir.’ Absolutely not.

William exhales, trying not to appear distressed over such small matters. His father's council already pushing themselves too far into his life. He stands up, wanting to get away from his desk for a breather and to oversee the window of the Golden Dawn’s headquarters.

It's a strong, beautiful palace that was contributed by the nobleman, who have been supporting their knights for as long as he’s been captain. Since creating the Golden Dawn, he's upheld it to be the most vigilant and high ranking of all the Magic Knight groups. They have become renowned all over Clover Kingdom, bursting at the seams with accolades by all in each realm. Those usually come at a price. Some perceiving them to be a certain way.

Being among the high-class society for so long, William seemed to have forgotten how things looked on the outside. It’s been business meeting after meeting, all according to the King himself and Julius’ reputations. He searches for the tulip, and sees the red flower next to the shrubbery of roses.

A tulip amongst roses. He had been a lot like that. His father, a nobleman, had an affair with some random mistress who had conceived him. His father took a liking to him, but the noblewoman of a step-mother did not care for him in the slightest.

‘He’s hideous. A cursed child.’ She had said. She recoiled at the sight of him, not sparing him any glances or wishing to treat him like her own. It had been a life of hell. One he never wishes to go back to. William had struggled his way to the top. He had earned his seat at the table, but still even among his own captains, he feels like the odd one out. Only his members of the Golden Dawn really respect him for who he is, or so he hopes.

He thinks of Aveline, her bright smiling face, the quirk of her eyebrows and her flower shop. She had a great passion for it. It was a sight to behold when he stepped in. He’s been thinking of the lady for sometime now.

Something seemed to pull him back to the common realm. A part of him didn’t want to think too deeply about Aveline. His thoughts of her causing him to get lost on certain matters. He dreads the upcoming meeting with the council. William knows fully well what they will demand from him. It's something he cannot put off any longer though. He's already avoided their invitations for the last five months.

Alecdora steps into the threshold, knocking on the door to alert William out of his introspection. “Sir Vangeance, we need to depart soon to the– sir?” He pauses, noticing that William looks rather far away.

“Alecdora, you may take Letoile and Langris with you. I am going to take my leave and see Julius.”

Alecdora’s raises a curious brow. He feels perturbed by his Captain's orders. “You rarely change the course of action so quickly, sir?”

William smiles. “No need to think about it. I’ll send a transmission at some point if there’s anything new, understood?”

His knight glances away and back at him again. “If you’re so sure, then we will meet back after.”

“Very well,” William says, nodding. Once Alecdora leaves, he takes his cloak, glancing back down to the Golden Dawn gardens where the single tulip lies. Perhaps he can gather another from Flora’s sooner than he thinks.

“To the common realm? On active duty?” Julius ponders over the suggestion. At the moment, it's up in the air.

William had arrived and given him an entire spiel on the common realm matters. Perhaps to do more work with the merchants and on trade. “We could strengthen the community that way,” William finishes. Julius blinks, clearly surprised by this notion.

“I never thought of you to go out there now, William? Aren’t you needed with the nobles? They’re discussing specific matters?”

William doesn’t budge on that. “I can push it aside for now. I’m not going anywhere as far as they know.”

Julius frowns. “It’s all the nobility can focus on.”

“True, but I can convince them otherwise to keep the matters of marriage and sex out of their minds.”

“But what’s got you so interested in the common realm?” A flash of dark hair and flowers comes to mind, but William pushes it away.

“Business,” he responds simply.

Julius after his small interrogation finally agrees upon William to leave within the next day for his stay in the common realm of Kalva. His old captain and mentor trusted him fully for the job.

“There're no stars involved in this. I call it a personal day or week. Take as much as you need. Bring back anything interesting you may see!” Julius had requested, and that was it.

He’s glad he hadn’t asked anymore questions on the matter. For all William could think about was Aveline. She would suddenly appear in his mind’s eye. Her curious expression, her smile and even the harsh look she had given him when Langris and Alecdora had treated her a certain way. It had been bugging him ever since. He wanted to make it up to her, he doesn't know how exactly. Every time his mind would flicker towards Aveline it filled him with a specific sort of joy. An indistinguishable feeling. One he has never felt before.

William felt glad to get away from the headquarters for a time. It had been too long since the last visit to the other realms. Usually, he never gets to do something like this.

He could finally set out on seeing Flora’s again, but first he’d have to head to his old castle to sort out some dealings with the noblemen there. They hadn’t been so unkind to him, but they had definitely demanded more from him than he could give them.

William just needed to talk to them to be sure that he will rule as heir for some time, and not to worry about any future marriages. Marriage was off his radar at the moment. They needed to understand that.

His title as captain of one of Clover’s highest ranking knights took up much of his schedule, anyway.

He knew for sure Alecdora would message him a spell sometime soon on where he went off to. Hopefully, this mission will be enough to distract them.

Aveline has been in a fuss.

The shop had bouts of a slow day and it threw her for a loop. She worked tirelessly all evening on her displays, much to her father’s displeasure.

“You mustn’t let your work consume you,” he had warned previously. She didn’t listen, she never does, without work what could she possibly do? Aveline continued on as if she had heard nothing he told her.

Now, it seems she should’ve heeded his warning.

Aveline fumbles over one of her arrangements when a sudden ring comes from the front of the door. She freezes, looking up to see an older gentleman with a rather nasty cut on the upper part of his lip.

She brushes her hands on her apron and steps towards him.

“Hello, good sir! What would you be looking for today?”

He saunters over, his finger gently tracing over a dahlia.

“Nothing of substance,” he responds. A simpering expression on his face. “I do wish to congratulate you on such a beautiful shop.”

Aveline blinks, a little taken aback. “I see. Thank you for the appraisal, sir.”

He would be a good-looking man had he not had such a harsh aura surrounding him. Something about him is unsettling.

The man leers at her, giving her a once over, slowly making his way back up to meet her own eyes. He looks almost as if he wants to sample her. She grips her apron a little too tightly. This isn't the first time, but something about him is just off-putting.

Aveline bites back a retort and a snarky comment. She can’t let him see he has the upper hand. He'd know.

“Well, I’ll be going off again, Miss. I hope to see you here on many days after. It's my pleasure.” He tips his hat and leaves with a final flourish.

Once she sees him leave, she releases a sigh of relief. His presence seems to still linger well after the mysterious man leaves. A dangerous feeling surrounding her shop.

Aveline focuses more on sketching loose depictions of her displays for the next few days. Even if there’s a damper to doing what she does and there’s no resolution to her hard work, she must continue as if nothing is holding her back. She must.

William arrives at the small town of Kalva. Kalva resides here on the north side of the common realm. He hadn’t gotten a good look when he was originally passing through with his knights, but now he can really appreciate the stone houses. The bustling streets are full of merchants and children running around.

He quickly makes his way down to the place he’ll be staying at for a while.

Then, a minor disruption frees him of his thoughts. The captain suddenly has quite the audience when people seem to stop in their tracks and gaze upon him. They look at him in awe and wonder, their whispers swirling into his ears.

“It’s the Captain of the Golden Dawn!”

“I have never seen a Knight this close before, and not even a Knight this popular!”

The exclamations were coming from all sides and William could only do his best to nod kindly and smile politely. Usually he’s used to having this kind of attention even in the Noble parts. Typically, the attention would be directed towards Yuno or his other fellow knights, who also take up more of the excitement.

When it's just him, he understands exactly why he ends up not accompanying his members for this reason. This sort of attention was not something he enjoys. Langris seems to relish in it, but William, a lot like Yuno finds it to be more than a little unwelcoming.

He gets closer to the stone inn called the King’s Echo. He steps into its archway, already seeing a clear window to where the registrar is.

The old woman at the front of the desk greets him politely. “Hello, sir. One bedroom stay?”

William gives her a placating smile. “I’ll be here for longer than just one stay, Miss.”

The woman looks a bit surprised, but schools her features into a content expression. “Always nice to have a knight stay here. It shows nobility not to fear the more common areas in the kingdom.”

His expression drops at that when she sets him up for his stay. Is nobility so bad that they don't even stay within the area? He tries to think of his knights doing such a thing, but they never do stay for long in the lower realms. He feels a bad taste in his mouth at the thought.

When William gets his room key attached to a piece of leather, he heads up the creaky stairs as the old woman lets him know of all the complementary resources for his stay.

“At King’s Echo, we provide the most efficient stay. In here you will have a warm bath drawn, a nice cot and a few drawers to keep any clothes or materials. Breakfast is from dawn to midmorning and dinner is during sunset.”

William tries to pay attention to all she says, but fears he may have lost some of it along the way. Once he’s in the safety of his room, he relaxes. He begins a plan of action. Why did he come here? He mulls over every detail that’s gotten him to this situation.

He had fully been in his right mind when he asked to come here. An opening for business negotiations would be the best for the Knights especially to forge some kind of peaceful example for nobles and commoners. One that they can confirm together.

Is it really that simple, though? Is this way of showing nobility and commoners to get along really the issue? He thinks of Aveline. She returns to his thoughts like a reckoning. It seems no matter where he is, the shopkeeper at Flora’s always comes to mind.

William feels a certain way about her. It’s odd. Perhaps it is a deep friendship. A desire to get to know her. He wishes to understand exactly what she meant when they had interacted before. He had struggled himself, but not in the way she had.

He tries not to think too much about it.

The next thing he must form is a tactic of some kind. That will be his greatest source of action in how to unite commoners and nobility. Business negotiations is the best bet.

Aveline is alone once more in the shop when the odd man returns. The ringing of the door came as a surprise, since she had left a note at the front announcing that the store would be closed for the time being.

The man from before steps in. His gaunt look and a perfidious grin appearing across his face.

“Hello, Miss. I’ve returned.” Of course you would, she thinks blithely.

He slithers over, bowing his head towards her. Aveline frowns, a sudden pit forming itself in her gut. “Hello, sir. I’m sorry, but we’re not allowing anyone into the shop at the moment.”

The odd man smiles, his teeth looking rather jagged. “I saw the message, girl. I’m here to take up some of your time. Would you accompany me for dinner?”

Aveline makes a face, but it vanishes quickly. She’s in a rather odd predicament at the moment. This man before her looks at her expectantly, and a part of her is fearful of saying no.

“I’m unsure about it,” she trails off. She worries her lip, trying to look away from him. Hopefully, Father or Mr. Humphries’ comes bustling through. A moment passes between them, him appearing more irritable by the second.

She prays in her heart that anyone will come and interrupt this.

“Well, if you’re going to say no. How about persuading you?” He offers, his smile tight. Aveline tries not to falter, if she shows it, he'll know. She stands her ground, despite the well in her gut. He doesn’t seem to take a hint.

She moves around to the counter, trying to cut her piece of ribbon for the foliage. “Persuade in what way, good sir?” If she can attempt to be amicable enough, bring up a neutral territory, perhaps he will leave.

She is too hopeful, indeed. This seems to tip him off. He figured out what she's playing at.

“I’ve come here at my busiest time to get well acquainted with you.”

Aveline crosses her arms. “I did not tell you to do such a thing, sir.” Hold your tongue, she warns herself. It’s too late now because the man stalks over.

A quiet fury materializing on his gaunt face. “You’re a commoner, unmarried, and defiant. They won’t want someone like you, girl.”

She didn’t know how else to react other than to feel that swell of rage inside her. Aveline has always swallowed her biting words, but this man has tested her patience. He has pushed too far, demanding her something she did not ask for.

“If you feel the need to insult a lady, commoner or not, then you should leave. Immediately.”

The man leans close to her, his musky breath fanning across her face. His lips curled upwards. “You speak to a nobleman like me in such a way. It could cause you great distress, my dear.” The way the false name rolls from him in a sardonic manner. He’s threatening her reputation.

Her fists shake at her side. “You do not respect anyone of value. You need to leave, sir.” She emphasizes. Aveline stands her ground. She will not take this random man's need to demean her.

“Girl, your rebuttal only makes you more desirable.”

The bell shop chimes once more then. They both look to the entrance to see William Vangeance, Golden Dawn captain, appearing from the doorway. Aveline gapes. Why is he here?

“Ah–Pardon, is this a bad time?”

The man stands up then to move away from her, sniffing haughtily and fixing his countenance. “I see, so you keep the company of many others. I shall be off.”

William steps in front of him. “If you insult the lady like that in her presence. It is within her right to banish you from her shop.” William’s smile appears then, deviously coy. “Don’t come back here again.”

The man glares at William one final time and exits. The golden dawn captain watches his retreating form. Aveline turns away from him, feeling her heartbeat rattle in her ribs. Her breath is shaky. She had every right to be terrified. At that moment, if he hadn’t come in? What would have happened? She’s thankful, but also a little mortified. What sort of commoner women do noblemen think they are? Do they think of them as easy? Aveline feels an anxious pit forming inside her. A new anxiety making its way inside her. This isn't the time to think of dreadful things.

William approaches, the sound of his boots clicking against the marble. “Are you alright?”

Aveline dips her head, her voice coming out mutely. “Yes, I’ll be fine.”

The captain reaches out, but stops himself from doing so. It is not within his right to put his hands on her. Even if it for comfort. He sighs. “My apologies for not coming sooner.”

Aveline looks at him then, stunned. “How could you have known? It’s not anyone’s fault except for that man’s. He came in here looking for trouble.” She swallows, braving her emotions. “Men come here looking for an object for their desires. I do not give them the satisfaction of such a thing.”

William analyzes her. The way her eyes are downcast and they shift away. She’s upset, and rightly so. Noblewomen get decisions made for them regarding their dowry or status. Commoner women face different beasts, but all of them are decided by the higher presence. Typically, being the patriarch.

He frowns, not enjoying the thought. He’s never realized it before, how much her and so many struggle. William had the naivety, the luxury to not worry over such a thing. Aveline has to because it is part of her survival.

She looks up at him then, eyebrows raising. “Why are you here, sir Vangeance? Why did you come out here to the common realm?”

William stifles his response. He had the answer to it, but it's not one he's recognized within himself yet. “I came here on business.”

Aveline appears doubtful. “Business? In the common realm? Don’t nobles typically have their duties tied up in the noble realm or with the Wizard King?”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that. He stares at a set of hydrangeas and lilies. “It’s something about trade that I wanted to do. Hopefully to give more notice to smaller businesses to get recognition. I chose Flora's for that purpose.”

Aveline is astonished by his proposal. She’s stopped feeling unsettled from the earlier interaction and is more curious as to why William seems more like a negotiator. Which is so unlike his former presence. She peers at him, stepping closer. “Do you also come here to do business with my shop?”

William nods, the nerves getting to him. How curious? He's never felt this before. “Yes, I was hoping to discuss it with you.”

She examines him. Aveline doesn’t know what he’s playing at. Could it be a genuine interest in her business or her? She doesn’t think of herself that highly, but she’s been fearful before. All the times business partners have made their way into this shop to take up her time, but it was really for her attention. No one’s taken her seriously.

Let’s hope this Magic Knight captain does not take advantage of that. “Well, if you don’t mind. I’d like to get my father involved with our meeting. When do you want to arrange it?”

William feels an odd thud in his heart. Is this really what he wants to do? Especially with someone like her? His mind is thinking of a million things that do not correlate at all with what he wants. What is it he wants? William doesn't know the word for it quite yet. He speaks anyway. “Of course.”

André Dubois looks to be the man who would have greeted William as an old friend; sitting across from him is one man that seems entirely too tentative. He watches him with a careful gaze. Not unlike anyone before him. William feels as if he garnered this attention. Since he's new and a captain to a noble group of knights. It would be weird for someone like him to wish to do business. Is it really so odd? Has this not been done before? He'll have to send a transmission to Julius to get a second opinion.

“So,” André begins. Aveline sits a cup of tea down between the two men, finally taking her seat beside her father. “What brings you to do business with us, sir?”

William’s words become lost on him, but he corrects himself. “I was hoping to discuss matters of expanding. At least to the noble realm.”

There’s a silence that wafts around them. André looks to be calculating something. Aveline is staring tersely at her tea. “You are investing in us. Is that what you want?”

William gulps. “Yes.” His eyes drift to Aveline’s, something that André catches before it goes away. William is staring at the man before him. It’s like he never did it at all.

The older man hums to himself. “So, do you look for any ulterior motive after all this is done?”

The captain straightens up, an entirely different response to the one he wishes to give. “No, I do not.”

And with that, André uses his cane to rise out of his seat, guiding himself to William. He greets the older gentleman, shaking his hand firmly.

André murmurs close to his ear, dropping to a low whisper, so that Aveline doesn't hear. “Let it only be business, my boy.”

William swallows dryly, nodding. “Yes, of course. Business.”

Aveline watches them, uncertain of what has transpired. She throws a look at her father who only gives her a tight smile, he's hiding something. He only does that when he doesn’t want to tell her. She frowns, eyebrows furrowing.

William stays longer for dinner, discussing work matters. André has taken a liking to the captain. Aveline eats quietly, feeling out of place in conversation between men. If this is still a business arrangement, she would much rather leave. Her father typically lets her leave after everything is well and done. She would stay for the meetings, but never has anyone stayed long enough to do so. They all had left with their wallets empty and hearts broken.

“And what do you think? Aveline?” William asks, awaiting an answer. Aveline had been lost in her thoughts, now she has no idea what they were even talking about.

“Pardon, I’m lost? Father?”

André takes a bite of his meal. “Vangeance wishes to know of your availability these next few months. Would you be willing to do flower arrangements for noblemen gatherings?”

Aveline nearly chokes on her meal. She coughs lightly into her hands. “Um, I’m honored–but won’t that mean–”

“You will come with me to the noble realm.”

She blinks rapidly, her gaze never leaving Williams. He seems to be very interested in the plate before him. “It’ll be too much trouble.” She answers quickly, a little distressed by how fast this seems to be going. “Can I think about it first?”

“Yes, that’s fine. I figured it’d be good for our business to send you out and about,” André says. William hasn’t said anything and Aveline throws him a quick look. “Right. Right, Vangeance, how long will you be staying here?”

He responds lightly. “For some time, I’ve considered exploring more in this area.”

“Oh, I see. So, how long will some time be?” She’s trying to make conversation, but maybe Aveline is acting more pushy than curious. Are you trying to run him out of town? She asks herself blithely.

William gives her a lethargic smile, slow and coy. “Some time could be any time. I’m not exactly sure. The Wizard King may send me a transmission to head back to the realm.”

Hopefully, he does it fast, Aveline thinks. She bites her tongue. She doesn’t know why she feels disarmed by William Vangeance, but his motives and how he’s stumbled upon her have made her question many things about him. What are his intentions, exactly? He doesn’t seem the type to be a person who would backstab her or use her for his own gain. Maybe he came here from the good of his heart to make good trade agreements. It’d be plenty good for the area she’s in. The merchants who are in her area would do well with some more business. Maybe people from the noble realm would stay here for longer. Not feeling so put out with where they are.

She’s still uncertain about what the future holds, but she feels she cannot entirely doubt William. He doesn’t seem to be the bastard type to betray anyone, really, judging how he apologized for his men. Shouldn’t a good man force them to apologize on their own behalf, though?

She shouldn’t be so critical, she’s really no better. Aveline escapes her thoughts, listening to more chatter between her father and William. They seem to get along well. Which is nice. Typically, her father only chats with Mr. Humphries or all the other merchants in Kalva. It’s only because he rarely goes out and about, not being able to walk such long distances to the market.

She loses her thoughts once she catches what her father says next. “You could stay here, if you wish.”

She looks up, meeting William's eyes. Aveline speaks up quickly. “Father, don’t trouble him with that. I’m sure he’s already found somewhere to be.”

“Nonsense! Come stay here at our house. Why waste money at King’s Echo?”

Of course it’s that place. André and the owner of King's Echo, Basquiat, had a falling out years ago after a failed venue set up; words had been said, ones that couldn't be taken back. Her father holds notorious grudges. And it had happened a decade ago. Aveline cannot express enough how quickly the setting has changed. “Father, please–”

William agrees. “If the lady of the house wishes it. I won’t stay here, Mr. Dubois.”

André huffs under his breath, breaking a piece of bread to stuff into his mouth. “Now, listen here. You are more than welcome to. Aveline, don’t be difficult.”

She wants to slam her hand against the table, but all sense is gone. William gives the final say. “No, I won’t. Miss Dubois is not comfortable.”

“Bah! My daughter just finds those of the opposite sex incorrigible.”

“Father!”

“I’ve said too much, I–” he sighs to himself, the flush on his cheeks apparent to how much he has drank this evening. “I apologize– Aveline, don’t leave.”

She gets up, gathering her plates to head back into the kitchen. Unbelievable. Absolutely. She grumbles to herself, feeling her neck warm in shame. It’s not that she despises them, it’s just–she’s distrustful of them. They’ve always viewed her as an object to be won and not someone of equal standing. They never see her as a business partner, but someone to declare their undying love too. It’s something personal she’s been trying to work through since she turned of age. Others would say it's a blessing to have suitors lined up for their daughter, but in reality, it’s horrifying. It’s like being in a stock show. Only for them to marvel at her rather than just let her be. It’s attention she did not want upon herself.

Aveline feels more betrayed that her father would act so inappropriately in front of a guest. A nobleman at that. She wants to think the best of people, but she can’t help keeping them at a distance. After that kind of fiasco, how could she interact with the captain?

She attempts to distract herself by organizing the pantry, already having thrown out her food. Her father comes in, the click of his cane alerting her.

He coughs lightly. She pauses her work, clutching onto a rag. “You have behaved in a horrible way, Father.”

“I know.” He agrees. André does his best for her. He gives his daughter her paths that she has chosen for herself. Sometimes it feels maybe he has lost her along the way, adding to her pressures with the shop. He feels the need to explain himself, but also ensures not to pardon himself after what he’s said. “I deeply apologize for my behavior, Aveline. It’s just hard watching you keep people away. Vangeance seems like a good man, willing to do proper business. It can at least ease some of your duties.”

“I like my duties, Father,” Aveline objects. “I like to be kept busy and doing what I do.”

André nods. “My dear, I don’t want you to weather yourself down to my state. You do not have to push yourself.”

Aveline swallows. “I understand.” She takes this as it is. André approaches his stubborn daughter, placing a hand on her head.

“Be good, be kind. That’s what matters.” She feels sentimental, some tears welling up. “Do not blame yourself, Aveline. I always want what’s best for you.”

“I know,” she murmurs. “I know you do.”

Aveline escorts William out. The Dubois’ home releases a gentle luminescence of light that brightens up their path. The two walk down the cobblestones at a slow pace. William stops, hands firmly behind his back as he turns to her. “I apologize if I made any of this uncomfortable for you and Mr. Dubois. I overstayed my welcome.”

She shakes her head. “No, not at all,” she glances up at him. Her eyes peered into his. “I just feel I still need to think about your earlier offer, to go with you to the noble realm.”

“There’s no rush, Miss Dubois. Take your time, just let me know if you become interested. Your work is too beautiful not to be noticed.”

She gives him a tender look, her eyes softening. “I appreciate you being so kind, sir. Please, if you come back, have another drink with my father. He gets bored here.”

William’s lips upturn. “Thank you for the invitation. Also, before I leave, the tulip you gave me. It’s flourishing beautifully in the gardens.”

She beams. “Oh? That’s incredible. I’m so happy. Please stop by tomorrow at Flora’s. I’ll hand you some more mixed seeds and bulbs.”

“Sounds like a deal,” he tells her amiably.

#william vangeance x reader #black clover fluff #black clover x reader #black clover fanfiction

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galacticwildfire · 6 months

Text

Fire Meet Gasoline | Poe Dameron

Five

Poe Dameron x Solo Original Character

Hope Solo’s haunted by the night the temple burned. Having gone rogue she hunts the First Order in search of answers until a fateful encounter with Poe Dameron brings her back to the Resistance and Leia puts her daughter under his command to find Luke Skywalker.

Word count: 8.8k

Tags/warnings: poe pov, threepio trying to parent, leia going for round two, poe sitting back and realising what he's getting himself into, snap being a wingman for both of them with non homicidal big brother vibes, mentions of setting people on fire, oc is delusional with anger issues, mild brat taming, mentions of lightsaber wounds and blood, a little flirting towards the end, the beginning of the on/off between them.

All my stories are written for adults with adult themes, I use appropriate tags but read at your discretion.

A/N: so i've got about five chapters of the prequel up on ao3, it isn't a romantic or ship story so it won't get any attention here but if you're interested I have it linked on my masterlist.

Hope

It's late when I find myself still walking around base looking for R2. For a droid who refuses to let me out of his sight he's quite happy to disappear now, maybe we've been a little at odds due to my career choices these past months, so I know this is a form of payback. Droids are programmed for loyalty but I dare say Luke altered some of that programming when he made R2 my official guardian on Naboo, to pull me into line and report back instead of blindly facilitating my poor choices.

If R2 is one thing, he is a droid who does not forgive or forget, and as it turns out he remembers Hondo Ohnaka and Boba Fett quite well and has quite explicitly told me off time and time again for working for them with very colourful language. I'm still convinced Luke altered his programming and I'd try to rewire it but it just feels wrong to do that to R2. To me he's more of a sentient being than most lifeforms and I'm not going to pick his wires apart just so he's easier to get on with.

He is my best friend after all.

I want to take off, to go somewhere to clear my head. Like Snap said, leaving and not coming back might be a bit excessive, but I need more time to wrap my head around the fact I'm no longer a captain and am likely going to be on permanent probation. Maybe I'll check in with my contacts to see if they've got any leads on the Irving Boys and where the Falcon could be, give it one last shot before facing the music, but I hate going anywhere without R2, and that's where Korrie finds me, in the hanger still looking for him.

"You're back," she says, not quite pleased but not as panicked as Brance. Although I can't truly blame her, she was one of the few who'd tried to help me and I'd shut her out. One of the only friends I had on Hosnian Prime as a teenager since she'd interned for Mom, just another one I cut out without any real reason to other than the fact I can't stand seeing someone look at me with pity, or something worse.

"Yeah," I say, managing a smile. "I um- I took a sabbatical."

"Sure," she says but she's too close to my Mom to believe that, everyone above a certain level of command knows just why I left even if it seems the rest of base believes I just conveniently went back to university. "The General is asking to see you in her office."

"Again?" I ask and she nods as I try to find a way out of it. "Tell her-"

"Tell her yourself," she says curtly and leaves me there before I can argue.

I purposefully take the long way to her office and this time Threepio is waiting for me by the door.

"Miss Hope, I am glad to see you."

"You too Threepio," I assure him but he stops me before I can go in.

"Now please, do mind your manners this time," he lectures. "I'd overheard your previous conversation and I am quite disappointed in you."

I look at the protocol droid in disbelief. "Really?"

"Yes, and I do not appreciate your sarcasm," he says pointedly as I raise my eyebrows at him. "A little courtesy goes a long way."

He catches my glare before I walk in only to be hit by a wave of betrayal when I open the door to find R2 there with Mom, but it's when I see the commander sitting across from her I become alarmed, wondering if this is about appropriate conduct. Although that should be the least of her worries.

"You asked to see me?"

"I have," she says and I see the recording on her desk of the Cato Nemoidia heist I pulled off and look at R2, realising he went behind my back to tell her just what I've been doing in the Outer Rims and know I should have seen it coming. He'd all but warned me he'd override my ship's controls to bring me home so this isn't a far stretch.

"Traitor."

He tells me it's what I get for ignoring him and Mom agrees. "Care to explain yourself?"

"Haven't we been over this already?"

"Yes but I'm hoping this time you can be rational," she states and I choose deflection.

"Just out of curiosity," I begin, wanting to know just what I'd be admitting to, although still confused as to why the commander's here if I'm being interrogated over my other exploits. "How much did R2 tell you?"

She purses her lips and says "I dare say he's only scraped the surface, but along with Threepio's intelligence let's start with you not just hunting the First Order for sport and acting as a mercenary for hire amongst several other chargeable offences, but pulling off highly illegal heists on planets where they give you the death sentence for it."

"Well you'll be glad to know that's the worst of it," I smile nervously, for some reason looking at the commander for some type of support right now and find him giving a painful nod of reassurance. "Don't worry I made sure I can't be charged for it, loopholes remember?"

"Mmhmm," she hums doubtfully but changes the subject. "Hope, I believe you've made yourself familiar with Commander Dameron."

I manage to keep a straight face, barely even shrugging in acknowledgement. "I'd say acquainted rather than familiar."

"Acquainted," he agrees and I nod along, trying not to look at his face because the first time left me feeling foolish enough and the last thing I want is for Mom to think I have any sort of attraction to him when I should want to hate his guts for thinking he could beat me in an x-wing but unfortunately his face makes that complicated.

And besides, he's the one that was blatantly flirting, not the other way around, but the way Mom raises her eyebrow tells me she might be slightly more in tune with the force than I thought to see through my bullshit, or worse she listened to his flight recording. Oh maker I hope she didn't because then he wouldn't be the only one mortified.

"Acquainted, alright," she says going with it. "Well I plan for the two of you to become familiar."

Oh no, that would make things even more unnecessarily complicated.

"Actually I was just about to leave, come on R2," I say as I get up from my chair and look at R2 but he remains firmly in place. "R2." He doesn't move and I look at Mom. "The hell did you do to my droid?"

"R2 was mine long before yours, and he's always been a very independent and stubborn droid who has no intention of watching a third generation of our family lose their way," she says and I narrow my eyes at him. "And his loyalty inhibitor prioritises your safety and my commands above yours. If you've forgotten R2 was given to you so he could act as your guardian in mine and Luke's absence, not your partner in crime."

The betrayal stings.

"So you'll offer to set someone on fire for me and won't snitch but now you just hand me over?" I challenge and feel the Commander's head turn to me in alarm and Mom leans back in her chair with raised eyebrows and I quickly remember she didn't know about that incident. It had been an innocent enough night out until a group of thugs tried to take me as ransom to get money off of Dad. I might have stopped Ben from killing them but when I spotted them the next day I couldn't resist getting even. More than even.

"When was this?" she asks me and looks at R2 who now remains silent. "Hope Solo-"

"I was sixteen-"

"There isn't a statute of limitations on setting people on fire!"

"Actually there is on Theron and Dad was fine with it," I say and she just stares incredulously. "They were going to kidnap me, and we as a family agreed not to tell you."

"And as a family you mean-"

"Everyone except for you and Luke?" I say and try to laugh it off but her face is very serious. "R2 was my partner in crime, blame him." R2 beeps in offence so I shift the blame. "Dad was the one who told us to lie."

She puts her head in her hands, taking a moment to compose herself before remarking. "At this point it would be easier to try to list the offences you haven't committed than list those you have."

"That is true," I acknowledge. "But technically-"

"Sit back down," she says curtly and I do so without argument, biting my tongue. "I am going to forget what you just told me that for both of our sakes and get on with the reason I had you called in."

I glance at the Commander beside me who's confused as much as alarmed. I find momentary amusement in it before having to very quickly regulate my facial expression and look back at Mom.

"So if this is round two of interrogations why the company?" I ask and can see her shaking her head in regret. "Because I only nearly dragged him into an x-wing race, so technically no offence has been committed. Intention to commit perhaps, but nothing worthy of anything above a lecture."

Out of the corner of my eye I see him nodding to himself in agreement there, seeming slightly relieved but Mom definitely isn't.

"Every day I regret sending you to university and pushing you into a career that teaches you how to argue," she tells me and I'm tempted to remark I learned all about arguing from when her and Dad could still stand to live together but refrain due to the company. "You should count yourself very lucky that despite your ego and sarcasm you've inherited outstanding talents," she continues and I wait for it, but for once the compliment doesn't come with a dressing down. "I have a mission for the two of you."

"The two of us?" I question, knowing I only ever undertake missions alone and she nods but I'm hardly the one with leverage right now. "So the mission is an actual mission and wasn't just a ploy to make me come back?"

"At this point I'm wishing it was," she sighs and looks at the clock and back to me, and I nod in understanding to not be a smartass. "R2 has told me you've been going rogue in unidentifiable vessels to attack the First Order so you have deniability?"

"You already knew that but yes."

"And that you performed several heists and stole artifacts from Cato Nemoidia?"

The commander blinks in surprise beside me and I only feel proud as I correct. "Reclaimed Jedi artifacts, and without a hitch."

"Good," she says to me and now I'm the one blinking in surprise. "I have the perfect mission for you."

I look at the Commander but find he doesn't have much more context than I do and I ask her "Is this a trap?"

She reminds me just where I got my mouth from, and it wasn't my father. "So you can trust Boba Fett but not your own mother?"

I swear I hear the commander actually choke from beside me and R2 cackles as best a droid can. Feeling quite ganged up on I relent. "We could get into that again but I'd rather hear about the mission."

She actually seems pleasantly surprised. "Wise decision."

She places a holoprojector on the table and I see a politician I'm half familiar with, wondering if this is going to be some political mission and feel myself quickly losing interest.

"This is Senator Erudo Ro-Kiintor," Mom tells us. "The senior senator from Hevurion to the Republic."

I raise an unimpressed eyebrow and the Commander seems to share the same sentiment but most pilots aren't exactly fond of politicians.

"If you say so, General," he says and I steal a glance, wondering if I was mistaken in how stupidly attractive I found him, as if it could have been some moment of weakness, only to find I was definitely not mistaken and quickly pull my eyes away before Mom can accuse me of anything, looking very intently at the hologram instead of either of them.

But I get a little more excited when she changes the hologram to one of a ship. "This is the Hevurion Grace, Senator Ro-Kiintor's personal yacht," Mom says and it's what I'd expect, Poe nodding along as he takes it in.

"It's a Pinnacle-class luxury ship, made by Vekker Corp. I've seen Pinnacles once or twice before. They're exclusive ships, everything aboard handmade, or so Vekker advertises," he begins, his knowledge of a random model of ship he's probably never even touched before making me slightly jealous. "Only the very wealthy can afford them. They trade luxury for efficiency, practically hang an invitation off the hull for pirates saying money in here."

"Damn right they do," I smirk to myself and Mom just looks unimpressed at that knowing just who I've been associating with. "I had to make credits somehow."

"If I recall you're a princess," she begins to lecture. "A title that was handed to you with great consideration with the expectation you wouldn't throw your lot in with pirates."

Those words dig deep considering just how seriously I took that honour, another reminder of just how much everything has changed for the worse.

"Only Hondo and besides, he helped the rebellion," I try to reason. "And you married someone who worked for the Hutts but I don't see you glaring at him."

"Oh I would if I could," she assures me and I don't doubt that, but she doesn't stop there. "Because he'd be so proud to see that his daughter ended up taking after him more than anyone else in the family which is why you are sitting here." Something changes in her eyes, they feel more alive as she nods towards the ship. "Can you fly one?"

"Of course I can fly one what sort of question's that?" I ask and she poses the same question to the Commander who runs a hand through his hair.

"It's designed to be flown by a single pilot, though it crews better with two," he says and again I'm wondering how the hell he knows so much about luxury cruisers. "Not counting of course any servants the owner may want aboard."

She has a mischievous glint in her eye and I lean back in my chair, smirking as I realise "You hypocrite. You want me to steal it."

"I want the two of you to steal it," she clarifies and it seems I might not have made a mistake in coming back after all.

I look at the Commander and find him grinning. "Sure. Anything else you'd like while I'm at it? Maybe pick you up one of those new Nebulon-Ks?"

She laughs. "I'm not entirely convinced the Nebulon-Ks have solved their combustion-shielding problems."

The rapport between them has me tilting my head, Mom's never friendly with pilots, hell she's hardly friendly with command. So why the hell's she making jokes with a guy who looks like the type of pilot she'd hate?

But then again, she married my father after all.

Oh maker.

I look away, she wouldn't, but then again she married my father and kissed her own brother so I can't put anything past her. I mean he definitely would, he looks like walking sex and it took him all of a minute to try to talk me into a date, or more likely into bed. Oh for the love of the force this is not what I thought I'd come back to. This could be even worse than the thought of her and Luke.

"Are you quite right there Hope?" Mom asks with a peculiar look.

"Stellar," I say, for once wanting to get to business and refuse to look at either of them. If she wanted to find a new flyboy she could at least look for one that isn't her son's age, he'd have to be in his late twenties, a bit older than Ben but close enough. I'm old enough to know that guys who look like him are only after one thing, maybe temporarily I leaned that way too for a moment when we were in that hanger, but certainly not now. And as for Mom... I just want her to be happy but not like this.

If she wanted a new husband I'd be thrilled, honestly I'd be lying if I hadn't thought her and Lando could possibly give it a go, mostly because it would break Dad's heart like he broke ours, but also because it would mean I'd have some semblance of a stable family.

But this- oh no this is not something I'd approve of. Maker I hope I'm just grasping at straws here.

I notice the commander eyeing me cautiously at my sudden change in demeanour before asking Mom "So what's this about General?"

"We've suspected Senator Ro-Kiintor of colluding with the First Order for years. He's delayed or derailed motions covering everything from sanctions to increased support for the Republic Navy. He's taken numerous unscheduled and impromptu vacations to locations in the buffer region, in the neutral territories." None of this is news to me, it seems as if half the remaining Centrists are secretly First Order agents, but this is news to the Commander. "There've been sightings of the Hevurion Grace in First Order space. Large sums transferred to his accounts through shells and third-party corporations via the CSA. He's not only in with the First Order, but he's in deep. He may have access to the top, to General Hux. Perhaps to Snoke."

I lean forward, suddenly intrigued. "Really?"

She's apprehensive now and stresses "But we haven't been able to prove any of this. No hard evidence, just circumstantial. And we've tried, believe me. Twice in the last year Ematt's sent his agents aboard the Hevurion Grace after one of the senator's trips, trying to access the logs, the navicomputer, to prove where he's been. Each time the files had been purged prior to landing."

"You want us to kidnap a Republic senator?" Poe questions, not entirely opposed, and that might slightly redeem him in my eyes.

"I can do that," I say without hesitation.

She looks between us in alarm and points her finger at me specifically. "No, that's precisely what I don't want you to do. I want the ship, I want those logs, the navicomputer data, all of it, before anyone's had a chance to cover their tracks, you understand? But no loss of life." She shakes her finger at me again in warning and then points it at Poe. "Not even a bruise on the senator or any of the crew aboard if it can be possibly helped and especially no interrogations as it must be completely deniable." She looks back at me upon mentioning interrogations, her voice somehow turning even more serious. "Emphasis on no interrogations which means no force tricks either Hope, no threatening, no persuading, no questioning. Nothing. Do not even attempt to find a loophole in that either. You are not to even interact with anyone on board if you can help it." I raise my hands in my defence, deciding not to open my mouth and she goes on. "Ro-Kiintor is a traitor, I'm sure of it, but until we can prove it he remains a member of the Senate and the Resistance will honour that. We must honour that or we're no better than the First Order."

But I have to shake my head at that, knowing nothing is that simple, and make the mistake of opening my mouth. "If we aren't willing to get our hands dirty how do you expect to take down people who would destroy the entire galaxy without blinking an eye?"

"Considering you've been working for Vader's right hand man I don't want to hear a single word out of your mouth about morality," she says curtly and,clearly I'd underestimated the lasting impact Cloud City had on her. The Commander turns his head towards me but I don't dare look at his expression while Mom calms herself. "I'm going to assume your judgement's been clouded for you to make such a decision and trust it's cleared enough for you to partake in this mission without any complications.

"In all fairness what happened with Boba Fett was Dad's fault," I remind her, she was innocent in what occurred that day, but him not so much, and I want her to understand my reasoning. "He swindled a Hutt and paid the consequence, and besides, it's my understanding Boba Fett helped rescue a Jedi youngling after the war from Moff Gideon. Luke should have been able to tell you that considering he was the one who took the kid. And as for being Vader's right hand man, has it occurred to you that one of the reasons I did work for him was for information, to make sure Vader didn't I don't know.... leave any apprentices that could rise up to lead a new empire?"

Now I have her attention and she gives me the chance to elaborate. "And?"

"He had none," I reveal to her, both of us having operated under the assumption he'd been trained by Vader or Palpatine. "Whatever Snoke is, he wasn't Vader's apprentice and no one knows anything about what he is or where he came from."

I feel the Commander's confusion and Mom explains. "This information is mostly unknown due to a lack of understanding around the matter, but Snoke is a force user like the Emperor was. One of the questions we had been working on answering is what type of force user he is and who trained him."

I expect the Commander to be completely clueless about the force and its lore like most of the galaxy, but he surprises me. "So he's a Sith then like the Emperor was?"

"No, the Sith followed a strict rule of two, a master and an apprentice, although during the Clone Wars they saw that as flexible. It's how they survived all this time until Palpatine, and if he wasn't trained by either then he can't be a Sith. He uses the darkside of the force but doesn't adhere to the Sith doctrine," I explain, still unable to figure it out. "He's something else and I want to find out what."

"Which we can begin to learn through the data on that computer and not interrogating a senator who would have no personal knowledge of anything you want to know," she argues with me, driving in the point she made about my last mission. "Which is why considering your recent experiences of pulling off heists I believed you would be a valuable asset to this mission, but if you are going to prove otherwise-"

"No, you won't have any trouble from me," I quickly say and she nods her head. I came here wanting to prove myself, and I have to put my own bullshit aside for long enough to do that. Especially if it means getting my hands on intelligence. "So, what's the plan?"

Poe's face draws together in concentration as he theorises. "If they're purging the data they're almost certainly doing so within minutes of coming out of hyperspace."

Mom agrees. "That's Ematt's thinking, as well."

"It's a very tight window in which to take the ship," he says, immediately jumping into an action plan. "And it'll have to be done in space, it can't wait until the senator's landed."

I look at him, surprised by his tactical thinking and quick responses. Maybe he was made a commander for something other than a pretty face after all.

"Which is where Hope comes in," Mom says to him. "If she can break into Cato Nemoidia undetected to steal Jedi artifacts I have every confidence she can steal a ship, according to R2 she's become quite experienced in that as well. She has a very specific skill set and whilst I am confident she could pull this off the matter in which she would pull this off is what concerns me. Considering she has no regard for her own personal safety I know she won't refuse this mission, but you can."

I scoff at her talking to him like I don't exist. "I'm right here."

Poe just looks confused. "Why would I refuse?"

"I'm aware of exactly how difficult this mission will be. Which is why I'm giving you the option of saying no, Commander. I have to stress this, Poe." Mom reaches out and squeezes his hand right in front of me and it's all I can do not to gape at them. "This is not an order. It could go very, very wrong, and if it does the Resistance would have to deny any involvement. You and anyone you took with you to do this would be on your own. You'll have Hope there and she has a knack for beating the odds but any reinforcements would be at risk."

I take the opportunity to jump in and finally turn to address the Commander personally, unable to help but feel slightly smug. "I can handle it alone since this isn't exactly your line of work."

But he doesn't back down, only seeming more sure of it as he fires back. "Don't be so sure."

"As Commander Dameron said, it crews better with two," Mom points out and I narrow my eyes at him before turning my head back to her.

"So does the Falcon but I've flown it myself all the same," I remind her and get to the point. "You know I wouldn't have a single issue flying this thing or getting what you need so what's your concern?"

"You. You're my concern."

"So that's it?" I laugh bitterly. "Your new favourite flyboy's my babysitter?"

He scoffs under his breath while she just shakes her head at me.

"Hope, you're twenty could you please attempt to act like it," she scolds and lectures. "If you want to have your rank restored you're going to need to prove yourself and have recommendations."

"I'm a captain-"

"You were a captain, and if you want to be one again you can earn it back," she says and I press my lips together, shaking my head as I struggle to keep my mouth shut with the anger that rises in me. "As of right now you are an agent of the Resistance that has no rank within our navy or army. If you want that to change you will do as told without the sarcasm and follow Commander Dameron's orders as he will be taking the lead on this mission if he will accept it and have you part of it."

I hold her eye but she doesn't back down and I'm the first to cave. He looks at me now in hesitation, my expression very clearly telling just how I feel as I find a spot on the wall to focus on so I don't have to look at either of them, as I brutally beat back whatever hurt tries to overwhelm me, and hear him say "We're um- we're going to need a few things."

"Alright then," she says, the decision being made since she's right in knowing I won't turn down the mission when I have a personal incentive to get that intelligence. "You'll both be transferred to the Echo of Hope to prepare for the mission. Due to the need to have deniability you will not be able to make use of your x-wings but I'm sure the two of you can figure that out and acquire whatever you may need."

"Yes General," we both say automatically, telling myself the information I can get from that ship is more valuable than anything else. If it can lead me to Snoke there's no question about it.

"I've sent the information we have to your datapads for you to review and strategise," she says and she knows by my silence I'm utterly pissed at being degraded like this in front of someone who's been here for five minutes and has more of her trust than I'll ever hold again it seems. I look between them, wanting to believe there's something wrong going on here, something to explain it, some sick favouritism or something more scandalous but no, she wouldn't go that far with someone under her command and finally I see it for what it is.

He's not a substitute husband, no, he's a substitute son.

And somehow that only makes it worse.

It makes it worse because if she'd given Ben a fraction of the care and warmth she's given him in the past five minutes we wouldn't be in this position and so I leave without being dismissed before I can open my mouth and ruin my chances of getting the intelligence I need to find my brother.

If Mom doesn't have any faith in me he will, and I know he's the only person in the galaxy who'll put me above anything else. If I can get him onside then we can damn the Resistance and the First Order to hell and destroy Snoke in our own way without being held back.

I am getting that intelligence if it's the last thing I do.

Poe

I don't know what I said or did, but Hope Solo does not like me.

And I can't help but return the feeling.

"It was really that bad huh?" Snap says as we sit in the mess hall well past dinner that night talking.

"I don't know what her problem is but she wouldn't look at me or Leia and then just walked out as we began to prepare for the mission," I vent to him, knowing I can't tell him the details of the assignment but I've got to get the rest off my chest. "Everything was just electric, sparks everywhere, right up until the moment she walked into that office and then it was like she was a completely different person."

"She's temperamental," he acknowledges, not wanting to talk bad about her and neither do I but I just can't understand her.

"It's just the way she spoke to Leia," I continue, her being pissed at an absent father I can get but not that. I couldn't ever imagine speaking to my mom like that if I was lucky enough to still have her around. "It's not just disrespecting your general, but your mom, I just can't come at that."

"Those two fight but look, she isn't as awful as she makes herself out to be," Snap sighs and actually takes her side. "I remember the very first Resistance meeting where she dragged her whiney ass big brother in there and chewed him out for talking bad about Leia. I learned real quick that day that the thing about Solo's is they'll fight like hell with each other but if someone comes for them you'll never see anyone switch up as fast. It's- it's just their way of communicating because trust me, I've seen Leia give it to her as well."

I can't deny that, a couple of things Leia said had me raising my eyebrows, mostly provoked to be fair but still I'd never seen her be so harsh before. From the sound of it a lot of the scolding was justified but still I couldn't help but feel bad for her until she decided to be pissed at me along with Leia for reasons I still can't understand since I only said about one sentence to her.

But not wanting to admit it I shrug him off. "Still."

He leans closer and lowers his voice "Just give her a chance alright, because your first impression of her was the right one. Yeah she's difficult and her and Leia can tear each other to shreds but she isn't the way she is without reason."

"Like what?" I find myself asking, I've seen the holonews, I've heard the rumours, but I don't know how much of what is actually true, and considering I'm going to be depending on her in a life or death situation I need to know who I'm working with.

He debates his words. "You know the General had a son right?"

"Yeah, of course," I say quietly, no one on base has ever dared even mention him until now. I've definitely never ever dared to venture there in all my conversations with Leia, not even when that grief she carries has left me up at night worrying. "He was killed when the temple was destroyed."

"I met him once, the splitting image of Han and Leia. He was a proper Jedi, Hope bounced around but he was fully devoted to it. Everyone says she was Luke's last apprentice but she wasn't, she was her brother's apprentice," Snap tells me and I feel uneasy. "I watched the two of them fighting like nothing else, like brothers and sisters do, but you could see how close they were. She- she was a real different person back then. One minute she's bright eyed and greeting everyone with a smile and then weeks later she ends up in hospital with lightsaber burns."

"Lightsaber burns?" I repeat and his face is grave.

"I know you've heard what people say about the supposed heir of Vader miraculously surviving the destruction of the Jedi Order?" he says, rumours I've tried not to listen to but I can't deny having heard them. "Look, if the General or anyone heard me say this I'd be dead but I was stationed on Hosnian Prime when they brought her in. They took her to the hanger where we were operating out of so the media couldn't get any footage since they'd been hounding her and Leia. I saw Han when he walked out of the Falcon, I've known that man since I was sixteen years old but I'd never seen him like that. Whatever happened that night... she nearly died, they said she was hospitalised for smoke inhalation but I got a glimpse of her when the Falcon landed in the hanger and they called in emergency services."

He pauses, knowing he shouldn't be saying anything but shakes his head and goes on.

"The side of her head was covered in dried blood and she was covered in that much ash she looked like the temple had been dropped on her, but it was the lightsaber burns they made sure the media never got wind of," he says quietly, a pained expression on his face. "One along her leg and the other on her arm, I'd thought she was dead when Chewbacca carried her out of there. Whatever happened that night wasn't an accident, but despite what people like to guess she wasn't the one who burned the temple down, she was just the one who was left for dead."

I'm at a complete loss for words now. "I-"

"She was seventeen when it happened," he says and I lower my eyes. "Han left a few months later. Leia coped by throwing herself into building this, Hope coped by taking out that grief on the First Order. Leia's done all this before so she knows it's important to build up our fleet before even thinking about engaging, but Hope wants action and immediate results. Those two weren't always at each other's throats, just look at the holonews if you want to see how protective she is of Leia."

I remember pieces from the initial media coverage, and know if L'ulo was on base he'd remind me of the fights I'd have with my dad because we were both grieving and had different ways of coping with it.

"Alright," I say, still struggling for words. "I'll um- I'll figure it out."

I go to leave, to get something started so I can get her input on it but Snap stops me. "Look if you go to see her don't give her any pity or say you feel sorry for her, just pretend like I haven't said anything." I nod in understanding but he goes on. "You want my advice for dealing with Hope Solo, or anyone from that family? To give as good as you get."

"I just saw her fighting with Leia, I don't think it's possible for me to give as good as she does," I remark but he doesn't look so sure.

"Give her the benefit of the doubt and be nice but if she's going to be under your command for whatever this mission is then you better learn to stand up to her otherwise she'll walk all over you," he advises, and considering she actually listens to him I don't argue back. It's not my style as a commander to be an asshole, because if I'm giving it back to her that's what I'm going to end up sounding like, but a good commander has to be adaptable. "She won't respect you unless you give as good as you get."

I take those words literally as I go to see her.

Hope

There's a knock at my door that I ignore as I unpack the things I'd packed, not knowing if I'm coming or going but knowing I'll need to bring some things at least with me. Still debating if I should go after that ship myself before anyone even knows where I've gone.

"I don't like this one bit R2," I tell him. "I was a captain, I performed countless missions and now some flyboy who's been here five minutes isn't just Mom's new favourite but he's giving me orders and I do not like this at all and I do not like him."

R2 beeps a smartass remark about that and I realise even if Mom hasn't picked up on my attraction R2 certainly has.

"R2," I warn but the knocking at my door persists and in my annoyance I open it to tell off whoever it is, half expecting a lecture from Threepio, but when I see the Commander my voice is sharper than I anticipated. "What?"

He's mildly alarmed at the sight of me, as if whatever resolve that brought him here quickly slips. "Bad time?"

"Yes," I state plainly and go to press the door switch but he has the guts to reach for my hand to stop me, the sudden touch jarring enough that I actually do stop.

"Look," he begins and stammers over what to call me. "Hope or Princess whatever you want me to call you?"

I pull my hand away, my voice firm. "Solo."

He nods, content with that. "Solo. I know you aren't happy about this-"

"So you can use your head then after all?"

His expression quickly turns to one of exasperation, but he knows it's not unfounded. "I might have gotten a bit carried away."

"Might have?" I question and can't help but snipe "Didn't seem to mind until you realised with who."

He knows I have him there. "In all fairness, you don't exactly give off the impression you'd expect from a princess."

I just scoff at that. "Because I'm not one." He just looks confused at that and I state plainly. "It's another rank she gave me which she remarkably hasn't stripped away like the only one that actually mattered."

He tries to lighten the tension. "Well at least I know now you weren't kidding about insubordination."

"And now you get to be my commander for this mission, enjoy," I say, and see people walking past in the hallway giving strange looks. "So what do you want?"

"Look if you're gonna be mad at me for whatever then fine, nice to meet you too," he says shortly. "But I was going to talk to you about the mission."

I raise an eyebrow. "In my bedroom, in the middle of the night?"

"I- " he clamps his mouth shut before saying "Alright, my bad, but it's urgent."

I just shake my head at him. "How did you even find my room?"

"Mutual friends," he says and know the only one he could mean is Snap. "Look can I come in and talk or we can air this out in the hallway, your choice."

"Fine," I say and throw my hands up as I let him in, becoming slightly less hostile when I realise he's brought his droid with him for support. "What's so urgent?"

The door shuts and I sit down in my chair and kick my legs up on the desk, crossing my arms over my chest as I wait for him to talk.

He takes me in, the tension between us far different to how it was in the hanger, and I realise when the General's not around I'm not the only one with a smartass mouth.

"So it's gonna be like that then?"

"Yep," I say slowly as I hold his eye and he cocks his jaw before nodding to himself.

"You know you actually seemed to like me before that meeting."

"I did, and now I'm taking orders from you so how's that worked out?" I remark, knowing that's certainly a conflict of interest that neither of us are game enough to admit to my Mom. "You've got one minute before I kick you out."

"Alright princess," he says and I narrow my eyes at him as he stands over me, not that he's overly tall. "I don't know what your problem is, but I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt and say you're just pissed off right now." I open my mouth but he cuts me off. "The reason this couldn't wait is because before we get transferred I need to give the general an action overview and wanted your input."

He surprises me enough that some of my apprehension eases and I can't help the disbelief that's clear in my voice. "My input?"

"You might be acting like a brat but I've seen enough to know that you're damn good in the field," he says and I blink in surprise as the insult and praise, respecting it enough to listen. "And whatever the hell you've been doing out there means this is your type of job, so." He leans forward over the desk, making it clear he's not going anywhere. "Hhow about you give me some input so we can work out an action plan together so we're on the same page and I can give it to the General with both our names on it."

I look at him in contemplation, holding his eye and still see that challenging glint in it from the hanger and find myself still forcing back a smile. "Alright hotshot, show me what you've got."

Now he's the one that's surprised but goes along with it and we end up cross legged on the floor going over the files we were sent and the schematics of the ship that's projected in holo form from my datapad.

"So, just to be clear," he begins and makes clear. "Absolutely no judgement on my part, but have you stolen a ship like this before?"

"Not the exact model but similar enough," I say, looking at the cross sections to pinpoint weak spots we could break through if we can't reach an entrance easily. "It's a luxury yacht, it's only going to be as difficult to hijack as we make it."

"Which is gonna be difficult regardless," he says and reminds me. "The issue is the time frame we're working with because if they call in reinforcements we're gonna be screwed. I've got some pilots in mind for an armed escort but if possible I'd prefer to not have to bring more people into this knowing the risks."

"Look this senator's a right prick," I tell Poe and he doesn't have any arguments with that. "I've met him and he's a Centrist which says enough but if he calls in reinforcements we need to be prepared for that to be in the form of the Republic or more likely hired security."

"The question is which would be better luck," he says although I'm not particularly worried about either. "Republic means a star system of trouble for the Resistance if we're identified, hired security means a skirmish."

"Look I wouldn't be too worried about getting identified," I tell him. "No one's gonna be shocked to see me committing piracy and I can always say I kidnapped you or something."

He stares at me in disbelief for a moment before asking "That's your plan?"

"It's a plan c for if the Republic shows up," I assure him. "So let's figure out how to avoid that."

"Here's what I've worked out," he says and lays it out for me. "We have to hit the ship the moment it comes out of hyperspace, and temporarily disable it by damaging the engines, get on board and then get the senator and anyone else on the ship into the escape pods and off the vessel."

"So no hostages?" I ask since Mom never clarified that and he considers it for a moment.

"No, no hostages," he confirms and I don't argue as he goes on. "We restart the engines and then get out of there with the ship, and we have to do it within eight minutes."

Now I grow hesitant. "Eight minutes being the Republic's response time?"

He nods in confirmation. "Correct."

I nod slowly and admit "It's a tight window, especially since it relies on how fast those engines and that hyperdrive recharges. I'm good with rigging hyperdrives but there's only so much I could do to make it charge faster in such a short window."

"That- I hadn't thought of that. Rigging the hyperdrive could really save us with the timeframe we have," he says taking my idea into consideration. "Are you familiar with the hyperdrive model?"

"It's class two, so it's right up my alley," I confirm, getting a little excited now. "If I get the right booster cables and bypass some other mechanics on it I should be able to rig it to charge faster but still I can't give an exact time frame as to how long that would be until we're on board and I can run the diagnostics."

He nods but asks "Won't that make it unstable?"

"No more unstable than what I grew up flying," I remark but he takes it on board. "And besides we only need to make one jump, I can keep it intact for that long."

"Alright, I'll take your word for it," he decides and reaffirms. "Eight minutes to get on board and recharge the engines before the Republic comes. It could take them longer but we need to be prepared for them to arrive in the minimum time frame."

I nod along but then wonder "But what if he doesn't call to the Republic for help? If he's carrying the information the General believes he is then he's going to have greater security than just relying on a distress signal to a naval base or even a private security escort." He listens as I tell him "Before you found me in the field I'd had a dozen tie's ambush me out of nowhere just because they'd identified my ship, not even knowing who was flying it. If he is carrying First Order intelligence and is compromised the First Order will try to reinforce but if they know the ship's been hijacked they're going to blow it up and take all of us with it."

He stills now, the thought of the First Order reinforcing before the Republic having not crossed his mind. "Which means this mission is a hell of a lot more dangerous than we gave it credit for."

"But it's not impossible," I say, determined to get whatever is on board. "We just have to be smart about this and have backup plans and improvise if needed.'

He studies me a little more closely now. "I'm going to go out on a whim and say most of your plans involve improvising?"

"Hey, I'm still alive aren't I?" I shrug and see a shadow of a smile on his face in the dim light.

"That's good, I like improvising," he says and now I'm the one trying to resist the same sort of smile. "If you can pull off a heist on Cato Nemoidia I don't doubt that you're more than capable of seeing this through."

I've been that used to having to go above and beyond for anyone to trust me, it's nice to have someone who does it without me having to fight for it. Although that says more about his character than mine.

"If this senator has information about where Snoke is then that is the most invaluable piece of intelligence we could get our hands on," I say and stress as I take in the ship. "It's not properly armoured, just an automatic set of laser cannons that would do nothing to protect it if we're ambushed, so we need to rely on getting out of there before that can happen."

He nods in agreement. "I like your thinking, I think you've accounted for any major variables that could go wrong. This is the one mission we can't fail."

"Trust me, this is personal, I'm not gonna fail it," I promise him, knowing if it comes between following orders and doing what I need to do to get the information I need the choice is clear. "So what are we gonna be flying if not x-wings?"

"That's what I was hoping you could help me with, we're gonna need ships that can't be traced back to the Resistance," he says. "I've got some favours I can call in but I thought you might have some better ones."

"I do, in fact a pirate owes me some credits and I can get the booster cables I need from him as well," I say knowing Hondo will help me out. "How many ships will we need?"

"One for each of us," he says to me. "I was considering bringing two pilots as an escort, they came with me to the Resistance so you wouldn't know them, but they're damn good at what they do."

Except I can sense his hesitation. "But you're worried they'll be collateral if it's the First Order who shows up."

He nods gravely and reveals "Yeah, I lost a man not that far back in the field and I'm not letting that happen again if I can help it."

I don't inquire or push, but I take note of that fact. "Alright then, so just us?" He nods again and I assure him "I can take care of ships no problem, but I suppose my N-1's out of the question?"

He shakes his head with a grin. "Now if you bring that we're definitely going to be in trouble, let's just say you'll be wanting ships we can ditch mid space."

"I can do that," I say, knowing Hondo has enough rust buckets that won't be missed. "Just don't tell the General where I'll be getting them from because she won't like it." I point a finger at R2. "That goes for you as well you little traitor."

"Now I gotta ask, I know you're a great pilot but do you have any formal military training outside of the Resistance?" he asks me and sees the look on my face upon realising he hasn't looked at my file. Although it's a safe bet that it's classified to anyone not in high command. "What?"

"I started in the Naboo Starfighter Corps in 23ABY."

He nods slowly before exclaiming "Wait I thought Leia said you were twenty? That would have made you-"

"Twelve," I smile to myself. "So I can assure you I'm quite well trained."

He just stares incredulously as he tries to understand that. "Wait- how the hell did they let a kid into their starfighter corps?"

"I made the argument that if twelve year olds could be queens then twelve year olds could also be pilots," I say and he can't argue with that assessment, once he gets past the disbelief he seems impressed.

"I gotta say," he begins and surprises me. "I'm looking forward to seeing you in the field Solo."

I study his face along with his force signature, almost hating the fact that despite my best efforts I can't truly find cause to dislike him, yet at least. He's effectively taken my role here in the Resistance and my mom's respect, and yet I only find frustration at the situation rather than with him.

"You've already seen me in the field, I'll be more interested to see if you can back up that ego you've got," I tease but he just gives a charming grin.

"Oh I can promise you, I won't disappoint."

I don't miss the look in his eye, one I'm not quite sure he even realises is there. I can't quite make sense of but it makes me feel things I definitely don't want to feel and while I'm not completely opposed this conversation has already gotten more personal than I'd like and the longer I hold his eye the warmer this room feels and so I quickly stand from the floor to put distance between us. "Well, if that will be all Commander."

A quick look at the clock on the wall tells me it's three a.m., but we've got the mission mapped out as well as possible for now at least. "I'll give this to the General and find you tomorrow to talk logistics."

I nod in approval and realise how well I've done at being able to look at his face without feeling anything, until now at least, but there's a warmth in his eyes I can't help but like. "Tomorrow then."

He nods back and finds his way out, leaving me in a state I can't quite pinpoint but R2 feels the need to tell me that I don't mind him that much after all.

And unfortunately he's right.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x solo!oc #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x oc #sequel trilogy #poe dameron x original character #solo original character #skywalker original character #solo!oc #poe dameron x solo original character #star wars fanfiction #star wars original character #sequel trilogy fanfiction #poe dameron x f!oc #poe dameron x female original character

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kilegriel · 1 year

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Tolkien Secret Santa Advent Calendar Day 7: Mulled Wine

For day 7 of @officialtolkiensecretsanta's 2022 Gen Advent Calendar!

Title: mulled wine

Pairing: Bilbo Baggins & Tauriel

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 519

Summary/Tags: Bilbo & Tauriel visit Hobbiton's winter market.

[Read on Ao3]

The first year Bilbo brought Tauriel to the winter market, it had been an all-day affair. Winter had come only a few months after he’d returned from his quest with the former guard captain in tow and the winter market was the last chance he’d get to stock up on things before the snow hit and made it too hard to make the trek into town. Tauriel had been taken in by a great many things that she had never seen before - a wide array of various decorations and baubles and tools that were apparently not common in Mirkwood. She’d lifted them up in front of him and he’d explained each one, quietly tucking away a few trinkets she seemed particularly keen on when she wasn’t looking so he could give them to her later. Gifts and warm drinks and fire in the stone-cut hearth of BagEnd, and he was still the coldest he’d ever been. It had been hard, that first year back from the quest.

Now it was a few years past and both of them have slowly settled into a fond and expected routine. Bilbo watches as Tauriel peruses through the winter market stands, only stopping every once in a while to pick out an odd thing she hadn’t yet come across during her time in the Shire. She helps him pick out which meats they would cure over the winter months, and carries almost all of their groceries back to BagEnd when Bilbo complains once about being a bit tired.

The cold trails in after them as they make their way into BagEnd, even after Bilbo has shut and locked the front door, and he finds himself grateful that Tauriel had cut fresh wood that morning, so they can start up a nice fire right away. The rich, wafting smell of slow-simmering mulled wine makes its way through the entry hall and Bilbo cannot wait to just sit down with a nice mug and read for the rest of the evening.

Tauriel sets about getting the fire started while Bilbo puts away everything they’d accumulated during their time at the market. By the time they’re both done with their respective tasks, it’s well into the evening, and Bilbo is rightly and properly exhausted. He pours himself and Tauriel both a full mug of wine and heads into the living room, where he finds his friend sitting cross-legged in front of the hearth, idly stoking the fire.

He hands Tauriel her mug and flops down into his armchair, letting the warmth of the wine bleed into his hands as he lays his head back and closes his eyes.

“If you fall asleep now, you’ll spill your wine,” Tauriel says, and Bilbo sighs as he cracks an eye open to glare playfully down at her.

“I’m well aware, thank you,” He says, but he lets his eyes drift closed once more. Through the veil of weariness, he feels the mug being taken from his hands, and he sighs, tired but content, as he listens to Tauriel walk off toward the kitchen before he falls into his dreams.

#tss2022advent7 #tss2022advent #bilbo baggins #tauriel #my writing #secretsantaseason2022 #the hobbit

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lyranova · 2 years

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Children of the Future:

Chapter 31: Closer to the Truth

Hi guys! Here’s chapter 31, we’re pretty close to the end hehe (we have 9 chapters left 😭!) finally all the pieces are starting to come together and the full details about what happened in Clover and Spade are almost completely revealed! Also, i just realized i never explained the way to pronounce Kya, it’s “Kaiyah”. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the chapter hehe!

Taglist: @eme-eleff @thoughtfullyrainynightmare @simpingforthisonedeer @elysianluv @crazyclownthanos @flow3rbudz @bowandcurtsey @vwdxwnsk @luminouslion and if anyone else wants to be tagged please let me know!

Word Count: 2,638

Warnings: None

———

Two days had passed since Hikari had gone to Alistar’s room, and she seemed to be getting a little better. She wasn’t fully recovered, and no one expected her to be, but she was taking baby steps in the right direction.

After William had talked to Neva and Yuno he seemed to be getting better as well, he wasn’t as quiet as he had been previously and even gave a small smile or two at a few of the kids. So far it seemed like everything was getting better, little by little.

But something was still bothering Yami.

When they had found Hikari and Alistar in the past they had also found Kya, the youngest daughter of the Grinberryalls, and something about her just seemed off to Yami. But at the time he just put it off to having just defeated Botis, and then losing Alistar to some unknown enemy.

But the more time he was around the little girl, the more suspicious he became.

He had kept this all to himself though, as the last time he suspected someone he ended up being wrong. So he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice and just kept them to himself for the time being.

“ Alright guys, the Wizard King called us for a Captain’s meeting. So it may be a while before we’re back, if you guys need us just use Wheels or Taxi Jr.” Yami stated as he, William, and Charlotte all stood next to Finral. The adults and their ‘children’ nodded and just before the Captain’s could walk through the portal, Neva, Yuno, and Asta stepped forward.

“ Captain Yami sir, can we talk to you for a second?” Asta asked hesitantly, Yami frowned a bit but nodded and the four went outside so they could speak privately away from the others.

“ What’s up?” Yami asked them, he watched as the three looked at each other for a moment before Neva spoke up.

“ It’s about Kya, there’s something…strange about her.” She started hesitantly, as Yami frowned at her Yuno continued.

“ It could just be because we don’t know her as well as the others, but something strange. She hardly speaks and interacts with the other kids, and she looked a little surprised to see all of us here.” Yuno said as he crossed his arms.

“ And I noticed something when she hugged Miku when she first arrived. Miku was happy and relieved at first, but it was like the minute she hugged her, something made her afraid.” Neva told the Black Bulls Captain softly.

“ I’ve been watching her Ki too, and there’s something really odd about it. I haven’t seen her Ki before so it could have always been this way, but it’s almost like there’s two different people.” Asta chimed in, Yami sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“ Damn, so you guys noticed it too?” Yami asked, Asta looked at his Captain wide eyed.

“ You know about this?!” He shouted, causing Neva and Yuno to glare at him, Yami rolled his eyes.

“ Yeah, I’ve noticed. I just don’t want to say anything until I have proof.” He muttered. “ I don’t feel like having a repeat of what happened with Pretty Boy, so I’m taking the cautious route this time.” He added, he noticed the sad look that went over all three of their faces.

“ Why don’t you guys tag along and go to the library in the Castle, maybe you guys can find out something about the devils that we encountered in the future.” Yami said, the three once again looked at each other. “ Listen, I know it’s a long shot, but who knows, maybe you three will be able to find something useful there.” He added, the three nodded and gave him a small salute before they walked back into the house.

Soon, Yami, Charlotte, William, Yuno, Neva, and Asta all left for their Captain’s meeting and for the library with Finral.

——

Hikari sighed as she looked around Alistar’s room, she had started cleaning up the mess she had made the other day, and tried to get it back to the way it looked before. But at the same time she tried to go through his papers to see if he made any headway before he passed.

Her parents had taken the voice recorder they found when they had gone to the future with them to go see the Wizard King, so sadly she wasn’t able to listen to it, but she knew Alistar. He left those flowers with that recorder for a reason, so now she was looking for that reason.

The papers yielded nothing. Nothing but theories at best. But she did notice a few things that stuck out to her.

“Multiple kingdoms taken over overnight. Where did it start? They had to build an army up before they could start taking over Spade, so where did they begin? Maybe in another kingdom, or even another continent? This job is too big for just one person, I suspect multiple devils are involved, maybe some that are just as powerful as the Dark Triad devils.”

She read the note over and over, he had been right as far as the multiple devils. But she, nor the others, had considered the devils starting off somewhere else before attacking Spade. She would have to bring this up with the others when they got back. Hikari picked up another note on his desk and looked at it.

“ If they are devils, how were they able to escape when our parents were wiping them out? How could they have stayed hidden for so long and no one noticed them slowly getting stronger? Maybe they have contracts with humans, if so, those humans have to be powerful. Maybe Royals?”

Hikari frowned, royals? That could explain how they were able to stay under the radar and get stronger for so long, but if so, which royals? Clover? Heart? Diamond? Or maybe even Spade? She continued reading down his notes.

“ What are the devil's powers? How are they able to take out so many people in such a short amount of time?”

Hikari nodded as she finished reading, the partial answer they had to that question was to Botis’s memory magic. But that couldn’t have been all, right? There had to be something else besides wiping their memories, that wouldn’t really make them violent would it? There was something they were all missing.

She set the notes down and looked across his desk again, she hadn’t dared to touch the books that sat there. Especially not the one his mother had left him. Her hands gently brushed over the faded gold letters, and she frowned. Maybe, just maybe this book would tell her what the flowers that Alistar left meant?

Hikari pulled the flowers out of her pocket, one was a buttercup, and the other she couldn’t quite tell. So she instantly flipped to the ‘B’ section of the book and flipped the pages until she found the Buttercup.

“ Buttercups mean ‘childishness’, alright, then what does this other flower mean?” She muttered before flipping through the book again, she went back and forth from A to Z, but she couldn’t quite find the flower.

“ Really Alistar? You couldn’t have picked a more common flower?” She sighed as she flipped through it a third time, but this time she paused as she stared at one photo.

“ ‘Aconite, also known as Wolf’s Bane, Queen of Poisons, etc., is a toxic plant usually found in the Northernmost part of Clover, and means Beware.’ Beware? Beware of what?” Hikari muttered, she looked at the two flowers for a few more minutes before her eyes widened.

“ Beware Childishness? Beware of the Child? Was he trying to tell us to beware of Kya?” Hikari softly whispered, that was the only thing that made sense, he was warning them to stay away from her!

That’s why he and Kya disappeared, why he knocked William out, because he knew Kya was the other devil! But none of them understood his message, not in time anyway. Hikari immediately walked towards and threw it open only for her heart to nearly stop in her chest.

On the other side of the door stood Kya, who smiled innocently at her.

“ Is everything okay?” Kya asked worriedly as she looked from Hikari to around her.

“ Y-Yeah everythings fine, I just need to go get some fresh air.” Hikari lied easily as she closed the door behind her, Kya nodded in understanding.

“ I understand your face is pretty pale, you should rest.” Kya said softly, Hikari nodded and walked past the ‘little girl’ before she stopped. “ Oh, I forgot to tell you. I’m sorry about what happened to your friend, I lost my dad to the same person, but we’ll find them and make them pay for it.” She added.

All the dark haired woman could do was nod in response, she quickly walked away from the girl, her fists clenched so tightly at her sides that her nails left impressions on her palms. She quickly walked to the common area, grabbed Ezio, and ordered him to take her to the Castle so she could find her parents.

——

The Captain’s meeting was awfully quiet for a while. Everyone didn’t quite know what to say to William, Charlotte, and Yami. Especially William since they had all heard about what happened with Alistar.

“ I,” Fuegoleon started hesitantly. “ I’m sorry about your son William.” The vermillion haired man could only imagine what William was going through, if he were to lose any of his future children, he would be a mess right now.

William just nodded his head in acknowledgement as Yami leaned forward onto the table.

“ Speaking of, your kid came over to our hideout the other day. You did that on purpose just to give me a heart attack didn’t you?” Yami asked, Fuegoleon blinked in surprise but shook his head.

“ No I didn’t, from what Leonidas and Cyraleona told me, the four of them are good friends. So when they heard that Alistar had passed, they wanted to see Hikari, but Cyra was away with her mother so only Leon could go.” Fuegoleon explained and Yami blinked.

“ There’s more of you?” He asked in surprise, Fuegoleon chuckled.

“ There’s three children to be exact.” He corrected, Yami let out a relieved sigh, thankfully those three didn’t come anywhere near him and his rag tag group. He didn’t know if his heart could take anymore.

“ Should we listen to the recording?” Julius asked softly after the Captains fell into silence again, the others nodded and as soon as he clicked it on a familiar voice floated through the air.

“ Is this thing working?” A much older Asta muttered. “ Hey Noelle! Are you sure this thing is on?!”

“ Yes! If the gem at the top is flashing, that means it’s recording! Geez.” A much older Noelle shouted back, they heard Asta chuckle before clearing his throat.

“ Anyway, I’m recording this just in case things don’t go as we planned with the darkness. So, if anyone from the past is listening, or if my girls are listening. Hi guys, I miss you and love you-.” Asta started but Noelle cut him off.

“ Get to the point Asta! We don’t have much time!” Noelle shouted, Asta sighed.

“ You’re right, sorry,” he said with a sheepish laugh before clearing his throat. “ Anyway, I’m not sure how much you guys know. But we first got notice of this ‘Darkness’ when we lost contact with Spade, when we sent scouts out to check it out we also lost contact with them, but they were able to send one message before we lost contact. They explained how it was deserted, and how it looked like the entire kingdom had been wiped out. But they also said when they did find people, they were afraid of them.” Asta took a breath before continuing.

“ The people were deathly afraid of the scouts, some would just run away, but others would attack blindly. No one had ever seen that before. They were able to catch one and when the scouts tried to ask them what happened, they couldn’t say a single word, it was like they had forgotten how to talk or something.” Asta muttered thoughtfully. “ All we can assume so far is one might have some form of memory magic, but the other? We can’t even begin to figure out what their magic is. Maybe they have a fear or nightmare like magic?” Suddenly Asta gasped.

“ Hey Noelle! Wouldn’t it be so cool if the other devil had a nightmare or fear magic?!” Asta shouted excitedly.

“ No it wouldn’t be cool Bakasta!” Noelle shouted. “ Now hurry up, we have to go!”

“ R-Right, sorry.” He muttered. “ Anyway, this is really the only information we have, you guys may already know this, you may not, but either way I hope it’s helpful. Now if this is us in the past listening I want to ask you guys for a small favor: Take care of our kids alright?” He asked before the recorder automatically shut off.

The Magic Knight Captains all looked at each other, for William, Julius, Yami, and Charlotte this wasn’t much new information. But for the other Captains it was.

“ You said Botis had memory magic correct?” Nozel asked. “ If that’s the case then we already know who to look for here in the past to keep the ‘darkness’ from ever happening.”

“ Yes, that's right. But we also need to find the other devil too, because we can’t be sure if we find Botis we’ll find them since we don’t know if they’ve always been together or if they happened to find each other at some point.” Charlotte answered. “ If we can get both devil’s names, and they happen to be seperated, then we can split everyone up into two teams. If they’re together then we’ll just need one team.”

“ But that’s the problem isn’t it?” Yami started with a sigh. “ We don’t know where to even begin-.” Yami wasn’t able to finish before Hikari burst through the doors.

“ I know where the second devil is, or at least the one from the future anyway!” Hikari shouted out of breath with Ezio trailing nervously behind her. She walked over to the table and slammed down Alistar’s notes and flowers.

“ Alistar left us a warning with the flowers, it said ‘Beware of the Child’ or that’s how I interpreted it. He was telling us to beware of Kya. She’s the second devil!” Hikari said as she opened Alistar’s book and pointed out the flowers, the Captain’s and Julius all looked, it was a smart and subtle way of warning them, it was just a shame they didn’t catch it in time.

“ And when Alistar knocked me out, Kya figured out that he knew and had to eliminate him from blowing her cover.” William said, Hikari nodded.

“ But that’s not all, Alistar was suspecting two from the beginning, and not just that, but he suspects they’re possibly contracted to Royals and that’s how they were able to escape and go undetected for so long.” Hikari finished, Yami, William, and Charlotte all stood.

“ Where’s Kya now?” Yami asked, and he looked at Ezio. “ Taxi jr. You go down to the library, Asta and his Golden Dawn friends are down there, bring them back with you. Your old mans gonna take us back to the temporary house.”

Ezio saluted with a nervous ‘Yes Captain Yami!’ before he ran out of the room towards the library, meanwhile Finral took Hikari, Yami, Charlotte, and William back to the house.

What greeted them was not a pretty sight.

The kids and adults were all either attacking each other, were hiding, or were curled up and once they saw that new people had arrived. They set their sights on them.

———

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day 🥰!

#black clover fanfic #black clover fanfiction #black clover oc fanfiction #children of the future #oc; hikari #hikari is not my oc #charlotte roselei #yami sukehiro #oc; kya #oc; ezio #william vangeance #black clover asta #black clover yuno #oc neva

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flydotnet · 7 months

Text

Heart of Diamantine

WHUMMPTOBER, DAY 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.” Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

I speedran this fic in a single hour so fuck it, if it has a bunch of typos, it's not my issue anymore at this point lmao (it is, but I'm past the point of caring).

This was very close to be an unashamed novellization of RONC's Musashi route, but in the end, I found a cooler idea and I went balling with it.

Also, get it. I'm writing a Misugi-centric fic on a 14th? I'm clever. I'm very clever, in fact. Biggest brain of the fandom my guy.

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Heart of Diamantine

Summary: 5 times a boy was told to just hold on, and one time a man got to say it back.

Fandom: Captain Tsubasa (I'm flooding tags everywhere)

Word Count: 2.1K words

AO3 version available here.

CW for brief discussion of childbirth.

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Just hold on is a thing Jun has heard a lot of time over his life, come to think of it.

The first time he did was absolutely horrifying to remember. He must’ve been no older than six years old – the memory is too fuzzy for him to remember and too forbidden for anyone else around him to ever speak of it, lest Mother replicate – but the fear from it still resonates vividly inside of him.

That was the first heart attack he could remember having. It was a sunny day outside, the grass so green and bright, the chirp of birds – and everything feeling odd and blurry at the edges. If you had asked him about it, back then, he’d have told you he felt sleepy, but it was weird because it was three in the afternoon.

For all of the blur in his memory, what he can still picture without issue is how Mother jolted up from her chair, letting her teacup break in a thousand pieces and spill onto the wooden board of the patio, as she ran to him, screaming his name in such a distorted way.

What ended up breaking through the haze and the cacophony of chest pains was her telling oh, my baby, just hold on. He was in too much suffering to really react in any other way than cry and let himself be cajoled, then dragged to a doctor whose face he doesn’t remember either. All that’s stuck with him was Mother pouring every tear in her body that day, the coldness of a stethoscope on his chest and the crestfallen looks of everyone around him.

Sometimes, he wonders if, that day, it wasn’t to herself that Mother was saying this – just hold on. Maybe it was her way to channel all of the worry and anguish that suddenly flared inside of her, her way to sustain the trauma this imposed onto her.

Maybe it wasn’t just for him, after all.

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The second time this sentence was so important to him is only so in retrospect – back then, it was just yet another time someone was going to smother his freedom and send him back to square one, to prove he could sustain himself in basic air composition.

It started like every single time his life just got slightly worse: someone found out he had a heart condition that wasn’t going to be cured any time soon. There just was one key difference, this time, though: it wasn’t a grown-up that saw him knelt to the ground, clutching his chest and clenching his teeth.

No, it was a girl he hadn’t really gotten to know quiet yet: Musashi FC’s recently hired manager, Aoba Yayoi. She seemed nice enough, and he was the one to suggest her to the coach because they could use the help and she was interested in soccer (unlike most of his school), but that was kind of it. He really didn’t know much about her.

It came as a shock, to her, to see him in such an unsightly state; but she quickly found her footing again, surprisingly enough. For someone so unprepared, she had the reflex to tend to him and bring him not directly to the coach, but to the clubroom and then get the man. His present doctor self and her present registered nurse self would probably find that stupid, now, but back then, it meant she could understand his reasons as to why keep it secret.

Just hold on, Captain, she told him as she walked him to the clubroom, carrying him with his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

He’s pretty sure, by that point, that his parents had told him that sentence a hundred times over, for so many things that it stopped making much sense; but this one stands out to him because… well, it’s Yayoi. It’s the woman he ended up marrying, of course it stands out to him just because it’s her who said it. Maybe she could’ve told him something else and it’d have stuck with him as well.

There’s no need to ponder upon what didn’t happen, though, that much she’s made him clear to him and vice-versa.

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The third time that this sentence etched itself onto his mind, it was during his very first real soccer match – the semifinals of Nationals, when he was (still) a twelve-year old boy oh so many people were idolizing him for some reason that he couldn’t entirely comprehend (and still can’t quite grasp it even now, why were people fawning over a twelve-year-old anyway?).

This was the grandiose finale he was going to show Father and Mother. This was his last showdown and he had carefully picked the brightest star to go around so, like a comet, he could burn away leaving a trail of light behind him.

It almost wasn’t, because Yayoi was too truthful and well-intentioned but overly clumsy about it, and Tsubasa wasn’t as strong in the mind as Jun thought he was. And even if it all went well in the end, gave the spectacle he was hoping for, praying for, the consequences are still here. They’ve been singed into his very core.

Nothing wrong with both of their reactions, in retrospect, because they were all children and very confused about how to handle his condition; but back then, it stung – it burned and burned like his heart as he ran around and tried to ignore everything that wasn’t going well with him. Everything about him was going to explode, at some point; but he wanted it to be on his own term.

The pain was atrocious, of course, and unlike anything he had experienced before; that was the one thing the gilded cage of his parents’ mansion had protected him from, after all. But he told himself to just hold on, because this was his way of going out, and he was going out with a bang. That’s all that mattered, for forty minutes or so.

His recklessness this day wasn’t enough to kill him, thankfully – but it almost came to be. It did teach him to persevere, that’s for sure; and, in some way, it’s this event that defined much of what he is today.

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Oh, the fourth time it happened, it came from – it came from nowhere, actually. It was just a feeling that overwhelmed his body. It flowed from his thoughts down to his heart and then through his entire self, pulsing like his blood.

Just hold on. It’ll be over before you know it.

In fact, he’d go as far as to say the fourth time happened twice. Both times were so similar, it’s like a two-parter of sorts, with one time echoing the other, ripples in the vast sea that has always been his difficult relationship with being alive.

Just hold on. It’ll be worth it by the end, don’t let it slip.

There is, however, a major difference between both times.

The first time around, it was a selfish wish to face off against a formidable opponent again. He wanted to see Tsubasa again, so he had to beat Hyuga first, so he had to help out the team. He had to hold on so he could get to Nationals – and he didn’t.

The second time around, however, it really was just to help his team get over the threshold and qualify for the finals of a tournament that, back then, was truly going to be his last, at least for a long time, maybe forever. He had to hold on so they could do that, even if his heart was aching all the while – and they did. They won, twice over even.

That must’ve been the turning point in his life – the one thing that taught him to be patient with his body, with himself. It taught him to think of the others as well, now that he could channel both his frustration and his feelings into things much more positive. His ambition became that of helping others, instead of just helping himself by running away from people trying to protect him, to help him.

Considering he’s now a cardiologist of his own, he’d say it was a success, even if maybe the success was that he was still alive and very much kicking. Maybe that’s not a thing a lot of fifteen-year-old could say about themselves, but was he really any fifteen-year-old to begin with?

(Most people would say no).

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The fifth time is a mixture of so many voices and hallucinations Jun isn’t sure of how to untangle that mess, even a decade later. He’s not even sure of what happened: did he die and was somehow brought back? Was that just a near-death experience?

Whatever it was, all he knows is that he once again heard someone tell him to hold on. The circumstances – in the middle of a match, in front of shut-down teammates and unheard audience – make it so he doubts it was anyone but himself.

Yet, the voices he heard weren’t really his. It was his family’s, of his teammates’, of old friends’, that of the woman he wanted to marry. So many people he trusted and who trusted him, telling him to hold on. That he couldn’t let it all end now.

So he got up to his feet, swallowed immense amounts of pain like people with healthy hearts would down a bottle of sake, and continued playing. Continued living. Made it out of the match, tournament, country – whatever. He saved himself.

It was a sort of wake-up call, at the end of the day: he was going to die before most other people because of a thing he barely had control over, and that just how things were, unfortunately, and he needed to be hasty about some things. He didn’t have time to maul over decisions and let opportunities pass by him, or maybe it’d be too late for him, and he’d die with only regrets and what-ifs in his head.

Perhaps this is how it had always been – or, actually, it was just part of the solution. He finally found the balance: live well without worrying too much about the far future, but still think ahead enough to know when to preserve himself and continue living as long as he could. Have fun, have tranquility. And this meant he had to do at least one thing before it was too late, while he could still speak…

He told himself he’d just hold on until the very end, got down to one knee with a little box in his hand, and finally proposed to the one who had stuck by his side for so long no matter how high the tide.

(Somehow, as crazy as he was, she said yes).

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It’s bizarre for him not to be in the position of the one who’s hurting, Jun must admit. He’s so used to being the one on the operating or examination table, to have tools on his skin and inside of his body, that being on the chair next to the patient is just foreign to him, even now, even as he’s now a doctor himself.

Or perhaps it’s because he’s a medical professional now and standing there, unable to do much about a situation, isn’t part of his life anymore. There is no advice nor tool that he could use how to make things go faster for his own wife and it’s terrifying.

He has reasons to be worried, he has reasons not to be, and the constant switch between hot and cold is sickening. One moment he’s trying to smile, another he thinks Yayoi is clutching his hand too hard and it means she’s in trouble, and it may turn awry, because God knows births can go awry – his almost did, and if their child has inherited whatever he has, then it may be too late for them and – and then the midwife says she’s doing so well, and the cycle continues.

It’s very much not like himself to lose his composure like that, even if it’s just internal and, on the outside, he’s the reasonable husband who’s standing by his wife’s side at a moment of need. He should be taking the role so much more at heart than he is, at the moment, too; it’s a way to thank her for all of her deeds and show they’re in this together.

And there is perhaps one sentence he can use that would do the trick.

Just hold on, he tells her, it’ll be over before you know it.

It must be the first time in his life that he’s happy to hear someone cry.

#whumptober 2023 #no.14 #“just hold on”#captain tsubasa #fic #junyayo #unlike what it may seem i love this ship #i jsut think it's written like doodoo in canon #so it's my personal responsibility to handle it well #fly stop yassifying rising sun ch94 challenge (impossible)

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slytherbun · 3 years

Text

wildflower

pairing: cedric diggory x hufflepuff!reader

summary: you weren't too sure what to think when a new eye candy transfers to hogwarts and becomes the new seeker of the hufflepuff's quidditch team but you realize in time that he is all of what you hoped for.

word count: 3.7k

tags: @specialagentsoftie

note: so this is all just a bunch fluff. i'm not sure how i feel about it in terms of cringey and hope y'all like it! figured i'd post this anyways either way though lol. i made up the way reader and cedric met at hogwarts so, it's non-canon from the movie.

another note: italics are flashbacks! :)

it was cold.

you could see everybody’s breath in the air outside and knew it was a crime to be out and about now with freezing and chilly weather.

the snow outside coated the ground by inches and the black coats zippered up and wrapped around you only helped so much. you were the type to freeze easily and the climate at hogwarts didn't help your situation at all.

minutes ago before you walked outside, you knocked on the door to his dorm after surveying the hufflepuff’s common room and noticed there weren't very many people around. and when cedric opened the door after you rapped on it a few times—he took in the view of your body wrapped around your blanket before pulling you into his room.

pathetically enough, you were shivering in the halls even with your mitten covered hands stuffed in the pockets of your coat. you weren't about to admit the doubled up socks on each of your feet either underneath the knee-length boots you wore today.

"are you cold?" cedric successfully taunted you when you reached your arm out of the pocket of your jacket and then under the blanket to slap his arm. he hissed and glared your way playfully while rubbing his arm dramatically.

you shrugged with a smirk on your lips and he plopped down onto his soft bed. “don’t get too comfortable.” he suggested when noticing you trying to sneakily get underneath his covers.

“what i’d do for one of those thermal blankets the muggles use.” you sighed dreamingly while watching him walk towards his closet.

“imagine having a postal company deliver the package to hogwarts? dumbledore would have an aneurysm.” cedric replied and you couldn’t help yourself when imagining the scenario playing out in your mind.

he turned to the side to admire your smile while you were a little distracted while pulling out a coat. then he closed the closet up and walked back over, holding it in your direction to offer an extra to put over your body. you gladly took it with a smile. "thanks ced."

cedric backed up a few steps and brushed a hand through his brunette hair. not being able to help himself he joked, “can’t have you walking around with your blanket wrapped around you. your height already makes you look so adorable.”

you got off from the bed when he exaggerated with your blanket in hand and scoffed. cedric bit his lip nervously while continuing to back up before he felt the wall pressed against him.

he rubbed the back of his nervously while you held the blanket up to his height and above your own head. “i’m just kidding.” he gulped before you took it and put it over his face.

when he tugged it down from his face he spotted you innocently standing by the door with his jacket around you. “i was going to leave it here anyway. just put it on the bed and i’ll come get it later after we get back.”

while you zippered it up you noticed this particular jacket was the one that you often saw him wearing before he ended up buying a new one for the upcoming winter that you were suffering in now.

and it was longer than the one you had previously put on about twenty minutes ago so, you couldn't argue with him on that steal.

"alright.” he laughed and added with a more serious tone. “oh and by the way—you don't need to thank me. you're my best friend, wildflower."

today was the first quidditch match of the season and you were sitting at the edge of your seat in anticipation. the hufflepuffs didn't score well last season and you were hoping they wouldn't come out with last place again for the year.

y/g/b/f (your girl best friend) sat down on the stands next to you with an umbrella in her hands. you turned and looked at it with a confused face. but she just smiled at your contemplating thoughts and looked up at the sky once before supplying you with an answer.

“well it looks bright now but i have a feeling it’ll rain later.” she always had a suspicion for when it was going to rain or snow and you never second guessed her because every single time she was right.

“did you know we’re having a new seeker play on the team today? i believe he’s going to be captain too if he plays his cards right this game.” she asked. you didn’t know that.

“wait is he the new guy everybody is talking about? i heard the rumors but you know how they are. i didn’t want to take it seriously until i saw it with my own eyes.” you stated and she nodded.

“yeah he’s a transfer i think but i’m not too sure. his name is cedric diggory though.” after her reply, you glanced around the stands to see if anybody had diggory signs for the game but with no avail you sighed. before you could respond you felt a few droplets on your shoulder.

your friend gave you a smart-ass grin and popped out the umbrella to hold it over the both of you. “guess we’ll see how good he is.” you mumbled before seeing the players come up to the playing area with their brooms.

butterbeer was pretty popular during the winter season. many students from school usually went and got some to help regulate their body temperature and keep warm.

everybody else must have gotten the same memo because you were inside the three broomsticks now for some butterbeer and it was crowded.

almost every table was filled with peers and that’s probably why you didn’t see many people in the school. with just one glance around the area, you could already tell the divided area’s of where each school was seated right away.

your tables were to the left area, the slytherins must have come earlier because they grabbed the back ones, some of the ravenclaw’s were off to the right, while harry and the other gryffindor’s had the middle area.

cedric nudged your side to grab your attention and nodded towards the hufflepuff area. “want to grab us some seats and i’ll get the drinks?” he asked and you nodded. “sure, could you get me a snack too if you don’t mind?”

he smiled and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “i suppose i could.” cedric walked away with a wink and you shook your head knowing he was just humoring you.

little did you know he already had planned to get you something else even before the two of you left the dorms. it had gotten to the point where asking him for little things hadn’t bothered you because you reciprocated all of the time.

but sometimes cedric would give you little excuses when it was your turn to pay, just so he could end up paying for whatever you guys were having or getting. he always spoiled you.

"ah the golden girl is here." hermione scoffed and watched you walk towards the hufflepuff area. your other best friend was seated already and started talking to you when you sat.

the brunette from the red colored house didn't particularly dislike you since you were always nice. sometimes you chatted with her while working on a project that you were paired for. then other times you gave her a soft smile when catching her eye while walking in the halls towards your next class.

she definitely couldn’t help but respect and admire you.

but the reason she didn’t put herself out there and try to befriend you was because you were one of the girls known in school for your smartness, quick reflexes, and witty attitude.

when people from school talked about you and referred to you as the golden girl instead of your name most of the time—it wasn’t that you were golden per-say but the fact that it matched up perfectly with the school’s color that you sorted it.

hufflepuff was known for its represented yellow color.

and there’s no doubt about it that hermione was also known around the school. but, she felt it was for all of the wrong reasons. despite not having it any other way as one of harry's best friends, she wondered if not for him that in an alternate lifetime that she would be you.

“why is she wearing cedrics jacket?” ron asked after following hermione’s stare. harry thumped him on the back of his head and then shook his own. “why does it matter?” the one with a thunderbolt on his forehead replied.

“well it is interesting, isn’t it?” the brunette said in defense of ron’s question. the one who didn’t seem curious at all took a sip of the butterbeer in front of him.

he licked his lips, thinking then replied to them with a response. “i mean it’s not our business but it is an odd find now that you pointed it out. maybe he’s just being friendly?”

“as if! cedric has had a crush on y/n since he met her. she’s just oblivious to it all,” she paused and tapped her chin. “—or is she?” ron gasped at her accusation but took a sip of his own drink before she could hear his outburst.

harry noticed her getting riled up once again and sighed. “well i don’t know what else to say. maybe you should just introduce yourself already and ask her instead of me.” he shrugged and hoped to end the conversation there.

you knew exactly who cedric diggory was when he swiftly passed by the hufflepuff area during the game. of course, he was wearing yellow.

the game has been going on for a decent amount of time now and he was stacking up the scores on the quidditch board—easily passing by the score of the gryffindor’s team.

cedric was undoubtedly the new eye candy for the whole school with the gasps and ‘awes’ from the other girls sitting in the stand. your friend was so busy watching harry that she didn’t catch the commotion.

you didn’t really pay attention to him to get a good glance at his face so, you thought he was just another arrogant rich boy and rolled your eyes.

what you didn’t notice was the way it was like a slow-motion love at first sight situation for him when he went by. since it stopped raining through the middle of the game he was able to catch a quick view of you.

the week wasn’t done yet so it was possible he’d be seeing more of you in another class he hadn’t had yet. and cedric hoped you were because he couldn’t help but look over in your direction throughout the game to catch another glimpse of your face.

it was still humid outside and you tried wiping your makeup a few minutes ago since it was under your eyes now, but you only smudged it further. your robe was drenched with your wavy and half-dried hair now lying down the back of it.

but he didn’t care what you thought about yourself because he knew without a doubt that you were the prettiest girl there.

“cedric’s looking pretty good today.” y/g/b/f voiced for the first time today. you played with the napkin in your hand while trying to get a glimpse of cedric.

“i don’t think you would know even if he was—since you spend all your time looking at harry.” cedric was up to the counter now waiting for your butterbeer and food.

“uh huh. don’t think i haven’t admired cedric before from afar though.” after a moment of not answering her, y/g/b/f noticed that you weren’t paying attention. you knew exactly what she was hinting towards.

cedric did look good.

his hair had that ‘just woken up’ style to it and he always managed to look even more attractive then he should have. the yellow scarf wrapped around his neck was the one that came with every hufflepuff’s supplied uniform clothing.

he usually wore it when you sat with him in potions on a chilly morning and you caught yourself wanting to take it off of him and wear it sometimes.

he always smelled good and it comforted you in ways a best friend shouldn’t have the ability to.

you seemed to have let your guard down and stared longer then you should have which confirmed what y/g/b/f already knew. “i knew it!” she chuckled and stated more loudly than the last comment to snap you out of the zoned out state you were in.

“know what?” you asked while placing the napkin back down on your table.

cedric was reaching the table and you wanted the conversation to end quickly. you usually dragged out conversation topics like this so you had time to think of another one to distract her with. but, she always found a way to circle it back around again.

you had to shut it down before he could hear, already knowing exactly what she wanted to talk about again.

“i’ll tell you later before our curfew.” y/g/b/f smirked and you sighed knowing she would in fact take the time out of her night to find you before bed. lucky you.

“hey y/g/b/f. how has your day been?” he asked your other friend while sitting down and placing your refreshments in front of you and then doing the same with his.

she grinned at you then glanced over at him, “pretty good i guess if it wasn’t for this weather i would say great. how about you? and how’d you manage to get this one out?” she gestured towards you, causing you to roll your eyes.

here we go again.

you were walking down the path back to the hogwarts dorms with y/g/b/f and some others. there was going to be a small celebration in the hufflepuff’s common room and other students were trying to hurry back without raising suspicions with any professors nearby.

“hey, i’ll be right back y/n/n. i see luna and i’m going to go ask her if she has a hair tie.” she said and pointed to the curly knots that she had on her shoulders.

you nodded and continued along the path while she walked over to the other side. it was quiet for a moment and you surveyed the peaceful area, a few feet over in the grass was a small patch of flowers.

you were about to take a quick look at them before feeling someone tap your shoulder. it was sudden and you couldn’t help but quickly move to the side and form a fist. you were about to throw it but stopped when you stared wide-eyed at the person who scared you.

cedric felt awful and only after he startled you did he realize that you were looking off in the distance of the area. the way you jumped though seemed that you were quick on your feet and he couldn’t help but smirk at the new name he had for you.

“hey i’m sorry for startling you wildflower but i just wanted to introduce myself. i’m cedric diggory.” he introduced with a panty-dropping smile.

you weren’t sure if it was some kind of joke so you treaded carefully. “uh it’s okay, it’s my fault really for not paying attention but i’m y/n y/l/n. nice to meet you ced.”

cedric held out his hand for you to shake and you took it, giving him a firm shake. after you let go he smirked and questioned. “ced, huh?”

he crouched down to pick up a flower that you were looking at earlier and it reminded you to ask, “wildflower, huh?” you met his statement equally and folded your arms together so they were across your chest to look more tough.

his cheeks tinted a minor shade of pink and tried to hide his embarrassment by ducking down and ignoring your question. instead he glanced back up to tuck a hair behind your ear and then placed the flower there.

“yes, wildflower.”

and how could you argue with him when he was being so sweet?

the two of you made it back to the common room after an hour of eating, then chatting with cedric and your other best friend. he was sitting on the bed with you sitting next to him.

you’ve been sitting for only about a minute or so—only enough time to shrug off your jackets and place them on the desk chair between that time after walking back to his dorm.

“would you like to lay down for a few minutes?” cedric asked when he noticed the tiredness shown clear as day on your face.

“sure” you agreed and you laid down while he shook your blanket out for the two of you to use. his eyebrows scrunched together when he realized it wouldn’t make much of a difference in comfort with how small it was.

you chuckled watching him trying to maneuver it around and he glanced your way with a smirk of defeat. “hmm, seems this blanket is a little small. would you like to go under the covers?”

cedric was giving into what you wanted earlier before the two of you left and he knew that too. the three broomsticks' food was delicious as always and you just wanted to relax for a few minutes after getting teased by your friend.

he grinned watching you get comfortable after the both of you were situated under the sheets and yellow comforter. there was a hufflepuff patch ironed onto it and you rubbed your thumb over it while laying down.

it wasn’t that awkward since you’ve fallen asleep in his arms a couple of times before already. class exams were frustrating and took a lot out of the students so he took comfort in you and vice versa when there was some down time during the weekends throughout the school year.

with an arm around you—he pulled you close to the point where you could feel his warm breath along your neck. “i don’t think you realize how much i treasure these moments y/n/n.”

he spoke breathlessly and you gulped slowly. you were dumbfounded with how seriously he said that. as if it had some kind of hidden meaning behind it. “me too.” you agreed and wondered if he would leave it at that.

but you knew better and cedric never left well alone when he wanted to get a point across. he turned your body slowly with the arm he had around your middle and you faced him with confusion.

he glanced down once before looking back up and continued on with his confession while staring into your doe eyes—a color he deemed his favorite the day that he met you.

“i’ve been fighting myself for a while on whether or not i should tell you this because i didn’t want my feelings to ruin our friendship. i’d rather be your friend than not be a part of your life at all. and i always look forward to seeing you e-everyday.” he paused when his voice cracked.

after cedric cleared his throat he continued, “and i totally understand if you don’t share the same feelings with me but i just couldn’t go on another day without telling you how i—” you cut him off by leaning in and brushing your lips against his.

he moved closer on the bed, so his skin was touching yours. cedric wanted to get as close to you as he possibly could. your hand swept through his brunette curls and you surprised him by tugging it.

he never knew what you were going to do and his friends teased him that you were a wildcard, to which he’d correct them and say you were his wildflower.

cedric smirked into the kiss and you groaned knowing he was being a smart-ass. but in return, he shocked you when he placed a hand delicately on your cheek to cup it rather softly.

he rubbed your cheek while your hand massaged his curls and then moved them downwards to the nape of his neck.

cedric pushed the hair back from your neck with his hand and then placed it back so his thumb splayed across on your cheek in a loving gesture. and you only wanted him closer after feeling sensitive about the whole astonishment that still had you stunned to the core.

you tugged the collar of his shirt and he pulled away with puffy, red lips and a smile. “what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know, i’m just emotional.” you voiced squeakily and full of embarrassment about it. cedric shook his head and before patting his chest, he held up the comforter over the both of you and let the minimal cold air in.

“oh, baby it’s okay. come here and let's cuddle a little before curfew.”

you bit the bottom of your lip and nodded, giving him a smile in return to the one he gave you and then crawled onto him. “i think i like baby better.” you voiced and laid on his chest with your head over his heartbeat.

he let go of the comforter when he noticed you were settled and tugged it firmly around both of your bodies. “better then what?” he asked.

“wildflower.” you admitted and hummed nervously while awaiting his response. you felt cedric shake his head and he put his arms around your body so you were pressed firmly against him before he kissed your forehead.

“you’ll always be my wildflower.” you closed your eyes after giving him a quick kiss on the cheek in response.

after a moment of laying back down you could feel his chest rising up and down in an odd pattern so, you put your head up to see him laughing again at you.

“what now?” you questioned trying to keep a serious facial expression but failing when he grinned.

“guess you got what you wanted, hmm?” cedric said—referring to the fact that you were finally under the comforters and you smirked.

“of course i always do. including finally getting you, ced.”

459 notes · View notes

moonstrider9904 · 2 years

Text

Chapter 1 - Landfall

Chapter Summary: After receiving a message from Rex, Sarah returns to the GAR in hopes of finding Echo, but first she'll have to meet a new squad of clones.

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings/tags: mentions of death and mourning, canon-typical violence, language. Nothing way too intense this chapter but the angst makes its way in there.

A/N: I've been so excited to post this! This is a rewrite of my very first TBB fanfic which I've improved in that the writing is better now, the chapters are no longer just retellings of the episodes the way they are, and I just like this a lot more and I really hope you all will too. Thank you for reading!

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter | AO3 link |Wattpad link |

Sarah

“Stars, I hope you’re doing alright. I hope you receive this message. Sarah… it’s Echo. I think and could almost swear he’s alive, I can’t stop thinking about it. But if I’m to figure this out, I need you here. I need you to come back. The generals don’t know all of it and they won’t know any of it until I’m sure it’s him. I… I need you, Sarah, and if he’s alive, Echo will need you too. We ship out in three standard rotations’ time. Hope to see you there.”

She’d repeated Rex’s holo message for one last time before the gunship touched down on the base on Anaxes. It was weird to her how one could become so familiar with a certain place, that even if she’d spent a long time without being in it, the next time she did felt completely normal, like it hadn't been ages since she was last there.

The sound of the dropship's engines revving, the feeling of its movement as it glided through the air, were so oddly familiar that it gave Sarah a strange sense of home, but barely. It was still different than the old days; for starters, she was inside the deck of that gunship alone. The only other person was the pilot flying it, when in the old days, she would have been surrounded by troopers, men she called her friends and fought alongside. The lonely silence of that ship only got her thinking, making her pinch her bottom lip the way she always did when she was anxious.

Rex thinks Echo’s alive.

She still felt odd returning to the army. The possibility of Echo being alive and the fact that Captain Rex himself had solicited her presence were reason enough for her to reappear, but a part of her feared she wouldn’t be welcome. And with everything that had happened, the last thing she needed was to feel rejected, much less alone all over again.

Stop thinking that, Sarah cut her anxious thoughts. She tried convincing herself that if she’d accepted to go back into the battlefield, it was because she was ready. Her intuition had been there–dull in comparison to other times, but it hadn’t left her. It was reason enough.

The pilot spoke over the comms, telling her to brace for landing. Her heart squeezed at the sound of his voice. Before realizing it was the pilot, Sarah could have sworn it was him.

Him.

Fives.

If it wasn’t for Rex’s sake she’d find Echo alive, it would be for that of Fives. And that thought, that very small thorn in her mind, was what decisively pushed her out of that gunship when it finally landed at the base of anaxes and opened its doors for her. The sun was lowering over the horizon, its light illuminating the exotically-colored irises of her eyes, nearly making them flash when she looked up from the ground and was met with the eyes of the captain.

The feeling of never having left returned to her. His armor was unchanged; his helmet still donned the blue jaig eyes. Rex looked at her with the same pained expression he had when he gave her the news of Fives’ demise. They hadn’t spoken much after that, and even if it felt like ages since that, they knew their pain was still shared.

Sarah paced toward Rex, and he watched her. He smiled ever so slightly when he noticed she walked with the same confident sway she always had, the one that made her hair bounce over her shoulders, framing her face, enhancing the marks on her shoulders and arms in the bits of skin her sleeves left visible. She smiled as softly as she could upon reaching him, hesitant to talk, opting to offer him her hand and grasping his forearm in a gesture of respect.

Rex looked at her and, overcome by her return, pulled her in for a hug. In return, Sarah no longer hesitated to hug him back.

“I’ve missed you, kid,” Rex whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

“I’m glad to see you, Rex,” Sarah spoke, her voice soft and soothing.

They parted their embrace and looked at each other with heavy hearts.

“Where have you been, Sarah?” He asked her.

She chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “You wouldn’t like it.”

“So it’s true?” Rex raised a brow, more in amusement than in disappointment. “You were running with pirates?”

“Hondo took good care of me,” Sarah replied. “And someone had to take care of him too.”

Rex chuckled, remembering all the anecdotes he’d heard of the pirate. He looked upon Sarah with sympathy, not once intending to reprimand her. “But it helped you, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah. No atrocities were committed, and it took my mind off things. I’m much better now, I promise. It just…”

“Hey,” Rex kept her from talking more with a hand on her shoulder, his eyes conveying understanding. “I know.”

Sarah sighed with a smile. She knew she could always count on Rex, and with another deep breath, she adopted the posture of a soldier ready to listen to her captain.

“So why am I here, cap?”

Rex smiled at her spirit, and he too straightened. “Well, you received my message.”

“What made you think he’s alive?”

“Every tactic and battle plan we’ve been using has been perfectly countered,” Rex explained. “Nobody could know a plan that well unless they were one of the minds behind it, of which could only be you, me, or Echo.”

Sarah sighed. “Rex, I want to believe Echo’s alive as much as you do.”

“I know,” Rex replied. “I-I know. It’s why I haven’t told the generals, I know it’s far-fetched.”

“Wait, Anakin doesn’t know?”

“No, but I do think he suspects something’s up with me,” Rex replied.

Sarah nodded. “I wouldn’t put it past him to figure it out. But, putting him aside for now, how do we proceed?”

“We’re going behind enemy lines,” Rex said. “You, me, Jesse, Kix, Cody, and an elite squad.”

Sarah raised a brow. “Elite?”

“Cody’s words,” Rex answered. “I haven’t met them yet, but if they work with Cody, they have to be good men.”

"Hey, you!"

Sarah jerked over to the direction of the voice that had interrupted her conversation with Rex, and the sight made her grin with a nostalgic happiness as her eyes filled with tears.

"Jesse!" Sarah then noticed the armor he donned, which was much different than the one he wore when she last saw him. "You're an ARC trooper now?!"

Proudly, Jesse smirked and opened his arms. "Sure am, baby! You like the armor?"

“I love it!” Sarah leapt into Jesse’s arms and hugged him tightly, letting just a couple of tears fall as she was swarmed with memories of Umbara, of his bravery, his brotherhood to Fives and to the 501st. If anyone deserved to be an ARC trooper, it was Jesse.

"I'm so proud of you,” Sarah said as she parted the hug and turned to see another familiar face, that of the clone medic Kix. He’d let his hair grow out, but in his eyes was the same kindness and spark he always had. Sarah whent to hug Kix too, mindful of all the times he’d saved lives. Force knew he’d saved her more than a couple times–she could be just as reckless as Fives.

“Rex didn’t tell us you’d be here,” Jesse commented.

“It was last minute, to be honest,” Sarah replied. “I’m just glad you’re all happy to see me.”

“We are, which is more than we can say about this so-called elite squad,” Jesse side-eyed Rex.

“So I’ve heard,” Sarah said. “What have you got against them?”

“They’re insane, even for 501st standards,” Kix replied.

“Come now, vode, you said you’d be nice to our deviant brothers.”

Sarah looked over Jesse’s shoulder to see Cody joining the scene with the grace he always carried himself with. He walked up to Sarah and crossed his fist over his heart, bowing at her in respect as was a gesture common back in Jedha. Sarah smiled and reciprocated the gesture only to hug him too afterwards.

“I’m glad to see you, Cody,” she said. “Now, could you tell me more about this elite squad? The curiosity’s making my marks burn.”

Cody chuckled, happy to see even the recent tragedy hadn’t taken away her spark. “Perhaps you could meet them yourself. They’re due to arrive soon.”

As he said that, Sarah did feel something. It was a feeling similar to when the Force was trying to tell her something, but her own intuition let her know the message was different. It was as if her heart was warming and leaping, and it only calmed down when she saw a peculiar ship emerging from the horizon.

The Omicron-class shuttle with more than a few modifications relentlessly approached the landing bay, startling more than one trooper on it. It then landed, its engines hissing with steam as it powered down, only raising Sarah’s curiosity.

“Who are they?” She asked Cody.

Cody smirked lightly. “Clone Force 99.”

The shuttle’s door opened and revealed its crew. Their armor was dark gray with red highlights, instantly contrasting with the other troopers, with the exception of the second man to leave the ship, whose armor was white. Sarah tried to take them all in at once, noticing the differences in the models of their helmets, all adapted to what she could only assume were their proficiencies.

It was obvious to her that they owned every room they walked into. As they walked toward them, each removed their helmets one by one, further shocking Sarah by how distinct they all looked. They all had the same bronze skin, they had features that were clearly alike, but each one was different, as if they were actual brothers rather than clones of each other.

The one at the back, the biggest and tallest one, was the one who first caught Sarah’s eye. Strength emanated from him, but also fun and kindness. The left side of his face was covered by a large scar, and his left eye had gone white. Next to him was a tall and thin trooper with round goggles and armor loaded with compartments and gadgets. As soon as he’d taken his helmet off, he’d given the crowd a confident little smile, one that won Sarah’s trust and heart immediately. Her intuition told her she could learn endless things from him.

As her eyes drifted to the other two troopers, the feeling she’d received previously grew. They’d taken their helmets off nearly at the same time, but they could not appear more different. One was shorter, with half of his face decorated with a skull tattoo. His curls were thick, pitch-black, and flowing down to his neck, secured with a red bandana with a little skull on it. Next to him stood the taller trooper, the most eye-catching. He was slender, thin, and his curls were silver rather than the usual black or even dark-brown. A tattoo of a crosshair framed his right eye, signifying him as the marksman of the group. He looked unkind, but Sarah knew better than to judge him as that straight away. And as the sharpshooter’s eyes met hers, they lingered on her gaze, popping a toothpick in his mouth as he took in the odd appearance of her irises before looking away without another regard.

She wanted his eyes back on her the moment he looked away; she felt her marks burning at his presence and she didn’t know why.

Cody walked up to them and grasped the leader’s hand, the one with the skull tattoo. “This is Sergeant Hunter, the one in charge of Clone Force 99.”

The sergeant had a confident look to him as greeted Rex and the others with his gaze, a gaze that Sarah could have sworn lingered on her for fractions of a second before he turned back to Rex.

“Pardon the delay, we were trying not to get eaten on Yalbec Prime,” said Hunter.

The goggled clone cleared his throat to correct, “Mated with.”

“Somehow, Tech, no matter how many times you say that, you never make it sound better,” Hunter chuckled.

“I am not attempting to make it sound better, facts are facts,” Tech replied matter-of-factly, drawing a soft laugh from Sarah and an exchange of looks from Jesse and Kix.

As the conversation drew on, Tech proved he had a million words to say. The remaining introductions were made: the charismatic giant with an undying love for explosions and excitement was Wrecker, and the opposedly quiet, serious trooper who was a walking mystery was appropriately named Crosshair, the sniper of the team.

With that, they all took to their assigned gunship and left the base and flew in the direction of the cyber center. Cody briefed the mission on the way there and had everyone’s unconditional attention. After he finished and everyone was at ease for the remainder of the flight, Sarah was once more filled with the sensation of nostalgia of flying into a mission surrounded by troopers, maybe with Ahsoka or Anakin in the same ship as her. Before the image of Fives’ confident smile before battle could invade her mind, Sarah looked up and saw a pair of eyes already looking at her.

The sergeant smiled at her softly. “And who are you?”

She smiled in return. “I’m a soldier, like you.”

“Are you a Jedi?”

“No,” she answered. “I do wield the Force, but I’m not a Jedi. You can just call me Sarah.”

Hunter raised a brow. “No rank, huh?”

“I’m not in it for the rank,” Sarah continued to smile kindly at him. She took in the deeper, smokier quality of his voice, making it stand out from the others. Deep inside her, Sarah appreciated that–at the very least, hearing him speak wouldn’t constantly remind her of Fives for the time being.

The light-hearted introduction was cut short when Sarah picked up a note of tension in the air, but by that time, Jesse was already glaring at the sniper, who had a sly smirk on his face as he chewed on a toothpick.

“What’s his problem?” Sarah whispered at Hunter.

Hunter couldn’t help but laugh at her question. “Everything. Do you want the long answer or the short one?”

“I heard that,” Crosshair spoke, his voice sliding into Sarah’s ears like a snake, making them ring. His timbre was different than that of the other troopers, much quieter and lower-pitched. It took her mind off her previous question and left her only thinking of him, lingering on the very effect his voice had on her.

“Is it not true?” Hunter chuckled, turning to Sarah. “You see, my youngest brother is a bit of a prick to everyone; just don’t take it personally and you’ll be fine.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes at Hunter’s remark and glared at Jesse once more, only making the ARC trooper angrier.

“Will you stop staring at me?” Jesse growled.

Crosshair sneered and took the toothpick between his fingers. “That’s some nice, shiny armor you got there. Might want to get a few battle scars on it or no one’s going to believe you’re an ARC.” With a smug grin, he flicked the toothpick at Jesse’s chest where a blue stripe was painted, the tip lightly scratching the blue and leaving a thin white mark in its place.

Crosshair’s arrogance grew. “Gave you a head start.”

“You little shit–” Jesse was ready to throw hands at the sniper, and he’d have done it had it not been for Sarah’s hand on his wrist, stopping him.

“Jesse, you’re better than him,” she said softly, but loud enough for Crosshair to hear. She could feel his gaze dropping, even though he’d lost the grin immediately. She was just starting to think about how, despite him acting like a bully, he didn’t seem proud or satisfied with what he was doing. He looked pained, as if Jesse had somehow hurt him before, or been responsible for something that did.

But the ship was hit by a loud crash! and everyone tumbled as the gunship began to go down. Between the mayhem, Sarah made out few details, such as Wrecker’s laughter of excitement and the three pairs of hands that reached out to ensure her safety. Within seconds, the ship had crashed onto the ground of Anaxes.

Her ears were ringing. It would still take her a few seconds to gain her consciousness again, and in her haziness, she thought she saw Crosshair reaching for her only for him to be shoved aside by Jesse, who picked her up and took her out of the crash-landed gunship.

Sarah dropped on her hands and knees and coughed once she was out of the ship with a worried Jesse next to her. She clawed her fingertips onto the ground and drew whatever energy she could–Jesse had almost forgotten she could do that–and slowly she began to feel better, almost normal. Sarah managed to stand up with Jesse’s help and they looked at the gunship as the remaining troopers got out only for them to realize one of them was missing.

“Cody,” Sarah said with worry. Her heart sank. She could normally levitate objects with ease, but powerful as she was, big ships were always difficult for her, more so in her current state.

Rex was about to run into the ship, but he was stopped by Hunter while Wrecker walked towards it cracking his knuckles and stretching his neck. With great effort, but still unimaginable strength, Wrecker lifted the gunship off of Cody and shoved it back, retrieving Cody’s unconscious body right before the ship exploded.

Wrecker carefully dropped Cody in front of Rex and Sarah. The sight of him so hurt made Sarah’s chest heave in agitation, his face suddenly looking too much like Fives. Kix performed a quick scan of Cody in an effort to calm the situation if only a little.

“He has internal bleeding, there’s not much I can do except cut the pain,” he said. Kix then noticed Sarah’s state, and he reached a hand out to her shoulder. “He’ll live.”

Sarah then took a deep breath and managed to calm down slightly, deciding to trust in Kix’s word and knowing he’d never lie to her, not even for the sake of telling her what she wanted to hear.

New matters began to arise when, with her hands on the ground again, Sarah felt the vibration of an army of droids heading to their position. It wasn’t the biggest army she’d known of, but there were too many for them to deal with especially with one man down. She looked up at Rex with dismay.

“Droids are coming here, and we’re outnumbered,” she said.

“Then we hold this position, clear them out by waves and hold out as much as we can,” Rex ordered, taking on the role of commanding officer now that Cody was down.

“Come on, captain, you have us,” Hunter said as he put his helmet on. “You’re going to have to do a few things our way, and our way is rushing head on.” He then looked over at his men. “You know what to do. Make it nice for our guests.”

“Ho ho oh, yeah,” Wrecker cracked his knuckles once more and looked at Sarah through his visor. “Watch and be amazed, pretty girl.”

Using a fragment of the gunship's door to use it as a shield, the four of them charged together. They made a stop a few hundred meters out there and Wrecker set the door down, standing still until Hunter threw a grenade at the droids which Crosshair shot mid-air, making the blast wider so it would take down more droids.

Against her will, Sarah’s jaw dropped at such accurate shooting, which Jesse didn’t find amusing. As the battle drew on, it seemed more like they’d remain standing there while the squad of clearly enhanced clones took care of the rest, so Sarah figured she’d do as Wrecker requested and allowed herself to feel amazed by their tactics. In little time, the army had been cleared out thanks to the combined efforts, leaving the path cleared for the squadron to move forward. Everyone regrouped almost as quickly as they had scattered and looked to Rex, awaiting the next course of action.

“We’ll have to continue on foot towards the cyber center; the sooner we move out of here, we’ll make better time,” Rex said.

“What about Cody?” Sarah asked.

“I’ll carry him,” Wrecker walked up to Kix, who held Cody protectively. “Trust me.”

Reluctant, Kix nodded and let Wrecker carry Cody, who proved to be careful with his wounded body. Wrecker then turned to Rex. “Where do we head, cap?”

“West,” Rex replied. “Hiding among plant life is our best option. We need be out of sight when the Separatists come and scout the area. Alright everyone, let’s move.”

The sun began to set on its course down the sky as Rex began to lead the way into the crystal-like forests of Anaxes. Sarah took one final look at the barren plains where the battle had just taken place before getting behind Jesse, who moved her in front of him to keep watch over her.

After a couple hours, they’d advanced so much they began to feel soreness on their feet. The sun had gone down and Rex felt it was best to stop and rest; they set up camp and all went to mind their own business, though no one could really sleep.

The enhanced clones mostly kept to themselves. Kix and Jesse shared some rations over a nice chat while Rex looked after Cody, whose condition seemed to be getting more delicate. Sarah stepped to the edge of the campsite and looked up at the sky, relishing in the sight of the green auroras she so seldom saw. Thoughts swarmed her mind, making her heart ache, until she felt compelled to look back at ground level to see Hunter kneeling on the ground with his hand on the soil not unlike she would do.

Sarah’s curiosity once again got the better of her and she walked over to Hunter, kneeling down next to him. Immediately, she felt his gaze shift onto her, his eyes softening at the sight of her.

"What are you doing?" She asked him.

"Getting a lookout of our surroundings," replied Hunter as he focused on the soil once more. “Wildlife roams a lot around these areas, but I have no reason to believe they’re hostile. It also doesn’t seem any separatists have followed us.”

Sarah then dug her fingers into the soil and felt the vibrations for herself. “A small herd of Fyrnocks is passing through the area, but they won’t be a problem. They like this environment and won’t see us as a threat. Three of them are nearby out campsite, but they’re merely curious.”

Hunter raised his brows at her. "Yeah, that's what I found, excluding the detail of their curiosity."

Sarah looked at him and found that he was still somewhat staring at her.

"It's my eyes, isn't it?" She asked.

"Yeah," he said, stuttering slightly. "Forgive me for staring."

Sarah chuckled in understanding. “They've been described as little windows into space, my eyes, as if you could see nebulae when gazing into them.” She smiled lightly in response and got her hand off the soil, lightly brushing the dirt off it.

"What did you just do?" He asked Sarah.

"Same as you," I say. "I tracked our surroundings."

"But how?"

I hold out my hand. "Not being a Jedi means I can master different ways of using the Force. That and I’m a bit of a freak of nature."

"Well," Hunter smiled. "Then you and I aren’t that different."

“That’s never sounded as appealing as it does now,” she answered. “The whole not being a Jedi thing, I mean.”

"So long as you're sure that's the right path for you," he told her.

"Oh, I'm certain," Sarah gestured at her arms and face. "These marks appeared the day I decided not to become one."

"I thought those were just tattoos," Hunter looked at them.

"Nope," she said. "It's a long story. The Force sometimes does things to let me know I'm on the right track. Sometimes it's this through marks, other times, merely intuition. That's how I knew I had to play a role in the war."

Just then, the Fyrnock that had been watching over us walked up in front of Hunter and Sarah. It bowed its head down as it approached Sarah, and she stroked its nuzzle and looked at its glowing yellow eyes, silently thanking it for looking out for them.

"Is that part of what you can do?" Hunter asked her.

"Yes and no," Sarah replied, her voice harmonizing with the Fyrnock’s purr. "I can bond easily with most animals, but this is the first time I can ever bond with a Fyrnock."

"And how does that work?"

"Same as everything else," said Sarah. "The Force is just energy surrounding everything. Knowing how to wield it you can know many things. I can bond with animals, feel their intentions as they can mine, I know what every plant is good for as soon as I lay eyes on it. I can track anything using vibrations, not unlike you. I can also do the good old levitating objects and mind tricks like the Jedi do."

"That's amazing," Hunter smiled at her, visibly impressed.

"Yeah," she averted her gaze as she felt her cheeks heat up. "It took years of practice though."

The Fyrnock decided to walk off once it had had its share of cuddles, leaving Sarah and Hunter alone together in the silence.

"Okay, I'm just going to say it," Sarah said after the words nagged at her tongue. "That was impressive back there."

Hunter chuckled. "Yeah, we get that a lot."

"And with reason," she agreed.

"Well," Hunter shifted to face her, speaking with a smooth voice. "If you ever want to get a different scope of things, you can always tag along with us."

Sarah felt her body still. "Are you asking me to join you?"

Before Hunter could answer her, a yelp coming up from behind them drew their attention to the campsite. Wrecker and Jesse were arguing, with the former picking up the latter up off the ground in a choke hold. Meanwhile, Crosshair and Kix shoved each other and wrestled, and it was obvious it was no friendly banter between siblings. Sarah and Hunter rushed to the scene; she broke the quarrel between Kix and Crosshair while Hunter ordered Wrecker to put Jesse down, and they both had to struggle to quiet them all down in the series of insults that were leaving them mutually.

When it seemed like Crosshair still wanted to throw hands, Hunter was forced to grab him.

“We’re not cadets anymore, I shouldn’t have to tell you to behave,” Hunter growled, his voice sounding different than it had when he and Sarah were talking.

Crosshair glared at Hunter, but he knew he was right. He then looked over at Sarah, who rested a hand on Jesse’s shoulder trying to calm him down. She didn’t have to speak for him to know she was disappointed, and only then did he fully stand down.

With the fighting being done, Sarah let out a heavy sigh before approaching Rex. “What are your orders?”

“We gear up and move out,” Rex replied. “Cody and Kix stay behind, but we need to make it our priority to reach that Cyber Center.”

The two exchanged a solemn look, as though they were both remembering why they were there, and they nodded at each other discreetly.

Echo, Sarah thought to herself. We’re here for Echo.

Rex put his helmet on and gave a final nod to Kix before leading the troop out again. “Let’s move.”

Jesse lightly brushed Sarah’s shoulder as he walked by her and she took to following him, looking sideways slightly to catch a look of Crosshair, who observed her from afar.

The feeling she’d gotten when she first met him had not ceased even a little.

#the moonwalker series #the bad batch #clone force 99 #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #crosshair #hunter #captain rex #moonstrider writes

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tsukidrama · 2 years

Text

Give The Devil Her Dues [ɴѕғᴡ]

ʏᴇʟᴇɴᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢѕ: unresolved sexual tension, making out, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, and semi-voyeurism.

Steamy encounters with a certain Anti-Marleyan Volunteer escalate over time, and you're certainly not inclined to refuse a woman as determined as Yelena.

[SEQUEL] I Can Resist Everything But Temptation →

ao3 | wattpad | sauce

written 8 feb 2021, reposted in dec

note: this is another fic where i'm just like, i dont have any excuses for this one! just look at my tag for her and you'll know where my head's at

word count: 8k

You’ve learned that with Yelena, you should expect the unexpected. From the very first time you laid eyes on her she had surprised you. She came into your life much like she came into the graces of the former Survey Corps - suddenly, with a loud bang and a flash of light. She stood heads above everyone around her, all long limbs and wide eyes. Yet instead of leaving you motionless on the bow of a ship, she takes the breath right out of your lungs with as little as a look.

As soon as she sets her hooded gaze on you, she cracks a frenzied smile in your direction. Immediately you know that you’ve fallen for her hook, line, and sinker. Yelena knows her place well in the beginning, and does not so much as step a toe out of line or speak out of turn. She spends her days alongside Onyankopon meeting with the higher-ups of the military, presumably feeding them information.

It only takes a few days for things to escalate. You stand guard at the edge of the military’s encampment that’s tucked away in the sand behind a large, craggy rock formation. Leaning back against one of the lower jutting boulders, you cross your arms as you watch Yelena and several others emerge from a tent.

Hange and Levi walk off in one direction, while Onyankopon and Yelena go in the other. After a few steps, the tall woman stops and puts her hand on Onyankopon’s shoulder. She glances over at you as she speaks indistinctly, and your heart jumps to your throat. She laughs, nods, and the two parts ways.

Yelena looks in either direction before she sticks her hands in her pockets and makes her way over to you. Something inside of your chest tightens as she comes closer and closer. She glances up at you with a sly smile that sends chills down your spine.

“I was hoping I would get to see you again,” she says once she comes within your earshot.

You shift your weight, and instinctively touch the gun at your belt. Yelena laughs and shakes her head, but stops walking forward.

“What do you want?” you ask. You aren’t sure if you want her to keep her distance or not, despite the strange pull you feel to her.

“I just want to talk,” she says, hands up in surrender. Her eyes are wide, her usual odd smile plastered across her face. “Is that okay?”

It takes a moment for you to process her words, but after a few seconds, you nod.

With her legs being as long as they are, it takes her only three steps to reach next to where you stand at the edge of the rocks, just a few meters from the shoreline. Yelena leans a shoulder against a large rock just a little over an arm’s reach away from you, and kicks up sand as she props one foot on her toes behind the other.

“So what do they call you?” she asks, crossing her arms to mirror you. You can’t help but feel unnerved as you fully realize the height difference between the two of you. Seeing her next to Captain Levi was one thing, but you realize that even still that you misjudged her as you find you have to tilt your head back to look at her face.

Still smiling, she looks at you pointedly. “Do you have a name? Or do you just stand around looking sexy, holding a gun and not speaking to anyone?”

Your cheeks flush, and you sputter out in surprise: “Wh-what? Sexy?” You shift your weight, and take a couple of steps back nervously.

“Oh, so you can speak!” she exclaims, eyes widening further. “I was starting to think I would never get you alone.”

“Why? You don’t have other priorities?” you ask. One of your hands tightens around the strap of your gun, and the other reaches for its butt.

Yelena tilts her head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You seem to have a lot to deal with, being interrogated by the Commander all day.”

Yelena does not argue with the terminology you use, and just grins wider in response. “That’s already been taken care of for tonight. I saw you looking at me earlier, and yesterday,” her eyes burn into you, and she adds “and the day we arrived in Paradis.”

You look away, and stand up straight. Chills run down your spine, and your hands feel clammy.

“Everyone was looking at you,” you say. “You caused a scene.”

Yelena chuckles, and looks down before turning her head off to the side. For a long moment, she stays quiet, and bites her bottom lip before her eyes move back to you.

She exhales, and shakes her head. “Not like you were.”

Yelena takes a step closer to you, and you instinctively back away. You make the mistake of stepping out of the view of the tents, and faster than you can take in what’s happening, she’s right up against you bending down with spindly arms outstretched. You’re trapped between her, the rocks, and the crashing waves, and the docks behind you.

She pulls at the belt your gun is attached to, and your immediate instinct is to fight. She grabs your wrist when you try to intercept her hand and throws the belt off to the side, and the gun falls into the sand noiselessly. You freeze where you stand, paralyzed by a strange mixture of attraction and intimidation.

The hand that isn’t around your wrist lightly touches your cheek. You shudder, and though you aren’t relaxed, the feeling of imminent danger has dissipated. The look on her face is still unnerving, but your intrigue and the heaviness in your gut keeps you rooted in place as she closes the gap between you.

You remember the way Yelena pulls your head to the side to kiss your neck, and how she nearly lifts you off of your feet as she readjusts to envelop you more fully. Any hesitation you had felt disappears as her long arms wrap around your body. She bends down, nearly hunching over to press her lips into yours fervently. A thin-fingered hook in the strands of your hair, and the other digs into your arm to draw you closer.

Your arms wrap around her neck, and you rise up on your toes to try and make up for the height difference between you. Balance fails you, and you stumble backwards to crash against the other side of the rock. The sharp edges dig into your skin but you ignore it as your legs fail you, and your back is scratched as you slide downward out of her embrace.

Yelena is on top of you the second your ass hits the sand, swinging one spindly leg over you to straddle your lap. One of her forearms braces against the rock above your head for support. You yank her by the jacket back into a sloppy kiss, your hands scrambling at her chest desperately in search of buttons. You can’t find any, frustratingly.

The wind blows her hair out of her face, and the both of you shiver. Yet when she notices your struggle, she looks down and laughs, then reaches for a small bit of metal in the middle of her collar. She pulls it down, and the jacket comes apart as she zips it down with a metallic zing. Yelena shakes the jacket down her shoulders, to reveal just an undershirt beneath it. In an instant she’s back on you, and you’re lost to the sensations of her skin against yours as she pushes off your jacket as well.

Everything after that was a whirlwind of lips and tongues, bumping noses and heavy breathing. Your memory blurs, and all you can remember is that Yelena’s hands wander without asking permission - though if she asked you would have given it in a heartbeat. Bony fingers press into soft and sensitive flesh, and she kisses you deeply while pinning you to the rock beneath you.

When her hands wander upward again her fingertips slip ever so slightly underneath the collar of your shirt to touch your shoulder, and it sets your nerves alight with sensation. As quickly as the pressure comes, it goes. The usual grin returns to her face, and she sits back on her ankles.

“I’ll see you later, okay? Another time.”

She picks up her jacket from where she let it fall, and rises to her feet. You sit there breathless as she looks down at you, and you aren’t sure how long you stay there looking at one another before she finally leaves you alone in the sand. You can finally breathe in fully after she finally leaves without another word, and you clutch your chest as you gasp for air. Her voice echoes in your ears, and her touch is seared into your skin.

Later that night, with a burning desire still raging inside of you, you go to sit in the grass just a stone’s throw away from the encampment. You turn your boots upside down to dump out the sand, and knock them against the ground. You brush off what you can from your clothes, and try to unstick the granules from your skin without success. When you see Yelena the next morning, she grins widely at you from a distance, but it’s several weeks until you see her again up close.

Every time you see her brings your body to the edge. More often than not, she’s accompanied by somebody else, whether it be Onyonkapon or one of the military higher-ups if not both. Weeks turn into months, and while you see her in passing, you don’t get to be alone with her for more than a few seconds. Every passing glance twists your stomach in knots, and the two or three times where she winks at you leave you flustered beyond what should be reasonable.

The closest you get to conversation is prolonged eye contact, and the one time she does speak to you all she says is an insincere “excuse me” after intentionally walking so close to you that she bumps your shoulder.

Yelena’s gaze burns into you every time she enters a room. Her dark eyes widen when she sees you, and the corner of her lips twitch upward. It grows into a full blown grin the longer she’s around you, or when she can sense your visible reaction to her. When she passes you in the hallway, she steals glances with you and on more than one occasion, goes as far to touch your shoulder in passing.

Nearly two months after the night on the beach, you’re on guard duty at the first level underground in the Shiganshina district headquarters building when you encounter Yelena alone again. You stand upright, though not with the posture you know you’re supposed to be maintaining. As soon as you hear footsteps, you straighten to full attention.

As soon as she rounds the corner, Yelena freezes. She smiles, in a way that at this point has grown familiar to you. She glances back the way she came, and then resumes walking toward you, faster this time. Your heartbeat quickens as she comes closer and you find yourself fighting the urge to reach for your gun again.

Yelena is fast, and she’s on you before you know it once again grabbing your wrist to stop you. She reaches for the gun, but before she can grab it from you, you shake the strap off of your shoulder and drop it off to the side.

“It’s off, okay?” you sputter, throwing your hands up in your own defense, and in the process shaking her hand off of you. Yelena holds it to her chest as if it were burned.

“You can’t blame me for wanting to get it out of our way” she pouts, “I’m worried that you’ll go trigger-happy on me the way you’re always clutching that thing.”

“Would you blame me? You’re always staring at me like you’re going to eat me.” You can’t help but glance at the gun again where it lies on the floor as her eyes bore into you hungrily. The bags underneath her eyes look more pronounced in the firelight.

“Oh,” Yelena muses, and her eyes crinkle as her grin widens, “I would if I could.”

Her words go straight to your gut, and you feel your insides twist. You squirm, and suddenly can’t decide whether to take a step closer to or away from her.

“Well, comments like that certainly don’t help,” you mutter, and shiver.

Yelena exhales, and sticks her hands in her pockets. Her smile fades, but the wild-eye amusement never leaves her expression. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”

“No,” you say immediately, for reasons you aren’t able to elaborate on, “don’t.”

Her smile twitches back into existence. “What’s that?”

“Don’t leave.” you plead, and pull her into you so hard that it causes you to take a step back as well, and your back hits the wall. You remember the feeling of the rock scraping against your back at the beach, and you’re grateful that the walls aren’t quite so jagged.

Yelena takes a step closer to you, and suddenly she’s right in front of you with one arm snaking around your shoulder. She slumps down to bring her face to your height, and hovers her lips above yours just long enough to leave you feeling agonized before she finally kisses you. As soon as her lips meet yours, you feel yourself being spurred into action.

Your hands scramble for purchase on her shoulders, and you end up resting your wrists above her collarbone, your fingers cupping her jaw from below. This time you don’t try to rise higher than you can manage, but the kiss deepens regardless as Yelena bends down further. Her other hand reaches inside your jacket to feel you up over your uniform shirt.

It feels like time stands still as you kiss her there in the corridor, and you would be fine if you stayed in that moment forever. Feeling brave, you swipe your tongue against her bottom lip. Yelena responds instantly, and her own darts out to swirl around yours. The unexpected move catches you off guard, and you accidentally break away from her to gasp.

Yelena doesn’t stop, and begins to kiss down your jaw. “You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” she whispers in your ear, her tongue flicking across your earlobe. Her thumb moves purposefully over your nipple, and even through the fabric it makes you whimper.

“What makes you say that?” you say, trembling.

She shakes her head, and lets out a short chuckle. “You’re way more into this than you were that night on the beach.”

“That night you hadn’t been staring at me almost every day for two months.”

Yelena leans down to kiss you again, more aggressively this time. One hand rests on your shoulder now, while the other undoes the top button of your shirt, and then another. Her fingers wander over the newly exposed skin, dipping between the valley of your breasts. Another button pops open, and she slips her hand fully beneath the fabric of your shirt. She looks up at you when your breath hitches.

You breathe hard, and pull at her collar. “It took you long enough to find me alone again,” you whisper, more desperately than you would like to admit.

“It’s hard to get away from your Commander Hange and that Levi Ackerman,” she replies, her fingers still moving, “besides, how am I supposed to know where to find you?”

“You can find me right here. I’m always assigned here,” you blurt, and as soon as you say it, you wish you hadn’t. A lump forms in your throat.

Yelena smiles again, devilishly. “Yeah? When?”

You clear your throat, but the lump stays lodged in your windpipe. No turning back now, and you know you can’t resist her with her hand down your shirt.

“Every weekday this month, until my new assignment comes in,” you tell her.

When she lifts her hand to stroke your cheek, just as she had before on the beach, your heart beats loudly in your ears at the sensation. All rational thought leaves your brain, and you find yourself leaning into her touch. The backs of her short nails trace against your jawline, and then back down the front of your shirt again.

“And where can I find you once your new assignment comes in?” she asks, far too casually for the way she’s caressing you. She dips her head to kiss the base of your jawline, right above the curve of your neck.

A shiver wracks through your body, and your hand instinctively flies to cover hers gently enough to not interrupt her movements. Something inside of you burns, and a heaviness throbs deep in your abdomen.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I find out,” you manage to say in response, “but the Survey Corps goes where Commander Hange goes.”

Yelena kisses behind your ear, and slips her fingertips under the line of your bra. “I seem to be doing the same, so I expect I’ll be seeing a lot of you,” she says, and her fingers finally reach your nipple, “good.” Yelena smiles into your neck, and pulls you by your face into another kiss.

Any noises you make are blocked from echoing the halls by her body shielding you. This time, you know to pull at the metal tab at the top of her collar, and the metal nubs securing the jacket unlock. You push it off her shoulders, and as it falls to the ground, Yelena readjusts her stance so that one of her legs is slotted between yours.

You gasp at the sudden pressure between your thighs and you’re humiliated when your first instinct is to grind down into her. One of your arm wraps around her neck now that you’re no longer blocked by that high collar, and you kiss her like you’ll never be able to again. You can feel her smiling against your lips, and you can feel her smile widen at the reaction you have when she tweaks your nipple between her fingers.

“Now I’m starting to wish I had ditched Hange weeks ago,” Yelena mutters into you. Her leg moves, and it sends a jolt of electricity up into you.

You can’t muster anything in response, so you just whine and grind your hips down shamefully onto her leg. Her fingers circle your nipple lightly and she kisses you again, this time pushing her tongue past your lips. Your free hand shakily wanders to touch her chest -- lean and fit, somewhat muscular, with no bra between her small breasts and the thin shirt your hand grasps.

The way she’s touching you incapacitates you beyond any autonomy you might’ve had when your brain wasn’t muddled by lust and if you’re being honest, shock at finding yourself in such a position once again with Yelena.

She kisses you for so long that your breath begins to run out, and you only break away to gasp for air. While you inhale, Yelena doesn’t stop, moving down your chin and jaw with open-mouthed kisses. She runs her teeth along the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Her other hand drops between the two of you.

An audible cry leaves your lips when her hand slithers between you and her thigh. Your grip around her neck tightens, and your head cracks against the stone wall behind you. She strokes you through your clothes, so the feeling is dull and muted, but it’s enough to leave you panting and writhing beneath her.

The hand on your breast slides out from your bra, though Yelena cups it once more before she lets her hands wander again. Over and under your bra, popping another button as she reaches farther down to tickle your now-exposed stomach.

She uses her knee as leverage to press her fingers against you. She’s barely applying any pressure, and the lack of any real stimulation is beginning to get you more worked up than you would care to admit. Yelena can sense this, but instead of indulging you she continues to feel you up and kiss your neck.

Her tongue runs from the hollow of your throat to the skin behind your ear. The whole way up, your fingernails twist in her shirt, and you desperately thrust your hips down against her. With you in control, you’re able to find an angle that gives you that toe-curling stimulation you were looking for.

“Yes,” you breathe, fingers in her hair, “right there.”

Frustratingly (though later when you think back on it, you are not surprised), after a few seconds of contact, Yelena pulls her fingers away. You squirm against her knee for any kind of friction, but she soon takes that away as well. She kisses your neck one last time, and then pulls away from you.

“No,” you say, your voice shaking. “Wha -- Why?” Your arms stay around her neck, but as she stands you slide downward even though you try to stay as high on your toes as you can.

Her usual devious smirk is missing, and instead just one corner of her lips twitches up, softly. She touches your wrists gently before she stands to her full height. You lose your grip on her, and your hands rest on her collarbones. Disappointed, you drop your arms to your sides. You pout your lip at her, huffing.

Yelena laughs in response. “I’ve got to leave you wanting more, don’t I? Now you have something to look forward to next time.”

You whine, in need and in frustration. “Don’t go,” you plead. You try to cover yourself, and feel your face getting hot. Your chest aches, and you pray that it’s only because you want her physically. And oh, do you want her.

“Another time,” is all she says. Her eyes rake over you one last time, burning into your skin, especially when her focus lingers on the parts of you she had undressed. A long beat passes as she drinks up the sight of your body, almost giddily. The softness fades from her expression.

Her eyes snap up to meet yours, and her mouth opens as she grins. You want to ask her to stay again, but when she steps back and picks up her jacket from where it fell, you know that nothing you say will change her mind. She looks down at you one last time before she goes back in the opposite direction from which she came with a bounce in her step that wasn’t there before.

Yelena doesn’t look back at you again as she walks down the hallway. She puts her jacket back on, and sighs before she turns down the hallway and out of sight. You press your fingers to your neck to feel your heartbeat, which pounds far faster and quicker than usually for long after she’s gone.

After her footsteps echo into the distance, you pull your hair down to cover the marks on your neck and try to straighten out your clothes as best you can. You’re hyper-aware of the cold air against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of her lips and hands. The feeling of her touch lingers against you, and your fingers trace over where her lips had pressed against your neck. It aches without her.

You shiver, and your hips squirm as you try to stand up straight again. Thankfully, you don’t encounter anyone else for the rest of your watch, aside from the soldier who comes to relieve you of your duty. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, and you hastily rush off to the bathroom to gather yourself once more.

Six times over the next month does she saunter down the hallway in the dead of night. Each time, you’re filled with shame as you let her do what she wants with you, and overwhelming relief when you get off on it. She makes you come the very next time she comes to see you, and uses her tongue to do it the time after that. The fourth time, you’re exhilarated when you find that she’s willing to let you return the favor, when you hesitantly hooked your fingers in the waistband of her pants, and she unfastens them more quickly than you anticipated she would with a longing sigh.

She’s so tall and thin that her pants slip down her waist with ease, and you’re delighted to find that you’re at a surprisingly convenient height to reach right where you need to be. Yelena moves on her own as much as you expect her to. She leans into your touch in a way that makes you ache. At some point, she tilts her hips to encourage you to slip your fingers inside. You remember the way she touched you before, and you crook your fingers inside of her the same way — you’re surprised when you elicit surprisingly gentle noises from the otherwise looming, borderline threatening woman.

Yelena lets you touch her with far more excitement than you anticipate, and it makes you feel a surge of power each time she lets you touch her so intimately, and lets herself be in such a vulnerable position with you. It’s only fair, of course, considering how often you let her take control.

She lets you go down on her the fifth time you hook up, when it’s so late that everyone else is dead asleep or passed out drunk, with the both of you locked in a supply closet for good measure. You can tell she’s nervous, and you are, too. It takes a moment for you to find the right way to prod your tongue against her, or how to swivel your tongue over her clit in ways that make her fingers tighten in your hair so hard that it almost hurts. You look up annoyed, but decide that you don’t mind when you look up and see the way her face is furrowed in pleasure.

Yelena comes harder than you had ever seen her up until that point, and afterwards she kisses you with more passion than she ever had before. She can’t quite look you in the eye for a few days afterward, and she waits until the night before you leave to visit you again -- and (to your delight) lets you go down on her once again.

The next assignment you have takes you (and the Commander, and the rest of the former Survey Corps) to Trost for the next two weeks. As Yelena had expected, she and Onyankopon accompany the lot of you. Even still she remains under the watchful eye of the military, and even as your trysts with her become more frequent over time, you can’t bring yourself to keep your eyes closed around her for too long.

Late-night rendezvous in empty hallways you’re meant to be patrolling, or being unexpectedly pulled into a storage closet became commonplace occurrences for you in the next few months. Twice a week becomes three times a week, and over time you begin to see each other several days in a row. You never quite have the time to sneak away every day of the week, but you can generally expect a surprise when you aren’t looking for it, and often enough that it keeps you on your toes. At first, your heart never leaves your throat, but over time you begin to look forward to the way you get to see her at the most unexpected of times.

Yelena is fond of the more public places she chooses to take you, like bathrooms or anywhere near heavily trafficked areas. Despite the embarrassment and the risk of being caught, you find yourself getting a certain thrill out of the danger of the situation. After all, wasn’t that same idea behind your attraction to Yelena?

You find yourself looking forward to seeing her all the time, and lying awake feeling empty on the days you didn’t have her fingers or her mouth against you. Sometimes you try and touch yourself, but it isn’t the same. Even if you come, it doesn’t leave you with the same feelings of contentment and the satisfaction of knowing that she desires you. You sleep shallowly and wake up desperate to seek Yelena out the next day yourself, despite the fact that you know she likes to be the one to seek you out.

One day, after a morning that began on a sexually frustrated note as described, you find yourself walking slowly past anywhere that she might be lurking in the hopes that she might be waiting for you. Blessedly, while you’re on your way to the weapons stockroom, you hear a wooden door creak. You freeze, and smile when you feel the familiar tugging of long fingers at the back of your jacket, and you’re gently pulled backward. You lean into her touch as you let yourself be guided backwards through the door frame.

This time, Yelena had pulled you into an otherwise empty stairwell. Though it isn’t dark by any means, the torches and dingy windows at each level leave the area more dim than the hallway you had just left. You find yourself pressed up against the stone wall beside the door with your heartbeat quickening in your chest. Yelena sits with one of her feet on a lower step to meet your height as she kisses you hard.

“I’ve been looking for you all day,” she says into your lips. Her teeth clack against yours, and you unsurprisingly already feel her tongue prodding for access. Your head tilts to give it to her, and you melt when you feel Yelena taking control of the kiss. Her hands wander up the front of your body, cupping your breasts insistently as her tongue swirls around yours.

She shifts her stance to shift a leg between your thigh, but before she can slot it upwards against you, you slip away out of her grasp. Something hot and dangerous bubbles inside of you. You breathe heavily, and work on shirking your jacket from your shoulders.

“All day? It’s not even 3pm yet,” you chastise playfully, yet despite your teasing you still find your hands shaking as you set down your gun on one of the steps of the ascending staircase, and tossing your jacket atop it as well. You pull your shirt out from where it’s tucked in.

“I don’t see you hesitating,” Yelena shoots back. She unzips her jacket as well and drops it on the staircase behind her.

“Well, no.” You smirk back at her, and unbutton the first two buttons of your shirt. Her eyes stare daggers into you. A wave of heat washes over you, and you become so much more aware of your own body than you had been moments before.

Yelena smiles dryly in satisfaction when she notices that you preemptively unbuckle the fastening above your chest and the belt at your waist.

“You look fucking delicious,” she murmurs, and hooks one of her fingers in the belt loop of your pants to pull you back over to her.

Something deep inside of you burns with desire, and you readily lean back into her embrace. Yelena kisses you with a renewed passion, and her hands wander to unfasten the clasp of your pants. Your breath hitches as her fingers slip down the front.

You squirm against her, and desperately work at loosening the belt around your waist so she can reach you better. “This isn’t a very well hidden place. You should have found another storage closet.” She chuckles, and two of her fingers press just so that it puts pressure on your clit, and kisses your forehead as you dig your face into her shoulder.

“Would you like to find somewhere else?” she asks nonchalantly. The hand that isn’t between your legs gropes at your chest and runs down your sides. She kisses you deeply, and catches your bottom lip between her teeth. You gasp, and shudder against her.

Yelena buries her face into your neck, and breathes in deeply the smell of your hair. “Something tells me it would draw more attention for us to walk around the hallway half-naked than for me to take care of you right here.”

She has a point, but you can’t help but be filled with horror and shame at the idea of being caught in such a compromising position in such a public place no matter what the scenario leading up to it is like.

“I’m worried someone might come in. On a different floor,” you huff, breathless. Finally, your pants fall around your thighs, and Yelena pulls the belt from around your hips and discards it off to the side. Her hand slides between your thighs freely, and you melt into her touch shamelessly.

“Do you doubt me?” she whispers, her voice a low growl in your ear, “As long as you manage to keep yourself quiet nobody will suspect a thing.” Her fingers slip under the fabric of your panties from the side, and up through the wetness that’s gathered to find the bud of your clit.

A low moan escapes you, and you immediately press your lips together. Yelena shoots you a harsh look, and for a moment, slows the rhythm she had just begun to find. Her fingers glide a hair breadth above your clit, hovering painfully close but so far at the same time.

“Can you do that?” she asks, looking in your eyes. “Can you keep yourself quiet?”

You squirm, and buck your hips into her.

“I can. I will.” you beg, and your only wish in that moment is for her to touch you again.

Something flickers behind her eyes at the desperation in your voice, and her fingers begin to move against you once again. She focuses on your clit, two of her fingers drawing tight circles on the sensitive bud. You stifle a whimper, but don’t allow yourself to make any audible noise.

Yelena’s smile widens, and her hunger in her gaze becomes even more apparent than it already was. “We’ll be done and back where we need to be before anyone notices that we’re gone.”

You whimper, and you wrap your arms around her neck to press your forehead to hers. “What if I want to do something for you too?” you plead, though your voice hiccups as you speak.

“Another time,” Yelena murmurs, and plants a kiss on the corner of your lips, “I want to make you feel good.” She accentuates this by swirling her fingers around your clit purposefully, rubbing that spot that made you see stars just right .

You squirm in her arms, and lean forward to sloppily kiss her. She kisses you back, albeit briefly, and then crawls down your body, dropping to her knees on steps below you. She pulls your hips forward so that you’re sitting on the top step, elbows on the landing. Neither of you bother with the straps on your legs, and Yelena just yanks the pants as far down your legs as they’ll go, hooked around your knees.

“Me too,” you say, and desperately try to hold in the noises that build in the back of your throat. “I want to make you feel good, too.” She pushes your thighs apart, and despite your embarrassment, you shift your hips to make room for her.

Yelena’s smile grows openly devious as she lifts your legs and hooks them over her shoulders. She crouches to stick her head through your thighs from the bottom, diving right underneath where your clothes bunches. The straps and buckles around your shins clink loudly and hit her back rather hard, but if she even notices, she doesn’t say anything about it.

“Later,” Yelena says dismissively, tracing her thumbs along the inside of your thigh as she looks between them. You whine again, humiliated, and your hips freeze up. Yelena looks up, and her gaze softens when she meets yours.

She leans in, but only to press a kiss against the inside of your thigh. “Can I visit you later after you’re off duty?” she asks.

You bite your lip, and feel yourself further flushing. “Only if you promise to let me make it up to you,” you insist, nodding.

“I promise,” she nods, and squeezes your leg gently, “Okay?” Her thumb brushes closer to the center of your thighs, and you feel yourself melting beneath her once again.

“Okay,” you repeat, and once again you’re overwhelmed with the desire for her to touch you.

She leans back in to kiss your other thigh. “So can I eat you out now, or do you want to keep talking?” The vibrations from her voice ripple across your skin, and the rumbling in her throat sends something deep into you. It feels like she’s intentionally torturing you.

“You can go,” you quickly answer, and without trying to hide how much you want it.. Hunger flashes across Yelena’s expression, and as soon as the words leave your mouth, her head dips between your thighs. Immediately her tongue swipes up against you - reflexively, your thighs twitch. You bite down the moan that threatens to burst from you, your toes curling in your boots.

Soft, wet heat curls inside of you as Yelena’s tongue glides up the length of you. She spreads your wetness around as she does, and it lets her slip right up against your clit. Your legs fall apart as wide as they possibly can, and you feel like you’re going to melt, and drip down the stairs in a puddle of goo.

Her tongue is impossibly soft, and at this point, she knows exactly what you like. She licks you from the bottom of your soaked opening to the top of your clit, where she focuses most of her attention. You stifle a moan and try to angle your hips so that her tongue goes inside of you.

Cruelly, she holds your hips in place and continues to lick your clit. As good as it feels, you want more. You can’t stop yourself from whining in need. As soon as the noise leaves your throat, she slows the movement of her tongue, and finally lifts her head. She shifts a little, and one of her hands leaves your hips.

Two of her fingers prod at your entrance, soaking wet from her previous teasing. They easily slip inside as soon as she presses into you, though she doesn’t give you the satisfaction of pushing them in all the way. You can’t move your hips without moving out of her tongue’s range, and nothing in the world could tear you away at this point. She knows this, and you can feel her lips curling into a smirk against you as she smarmily acknowledges the power she holds.

She pulls her fingers out slowly, and pushes them back in even slower. It’s agonizing, and all you want to do is beg, and plead with her to give you what you want. You know she won’t fuck you the way you want her to if you make more noise than necessary, so you bite down on your lip even harder to keep quiet.

Yelena moans against you in approval, and the vibrations her voice sends through you leave you dripping. Her fingers move gently inside of you, slipping in deeper with the newfound slickness. A whimper dies in your throat as she continues to thrust inside of you — well-angled and purposeful enough to stir up excitement deep in your gut, but too shallow to fill the gnawing emptiness inside of you.

Finally, she pushes them in until she crooks her fingertips inside of you. You inhale sharply when sparks fly in your abdomen, and you grind down against her instinctually. Her fingers twitch inside of you. Fingertips prod and curve inside of you as she feels along the top of your inner walls, searching for your g-spot. She pushes forward just a little farther, and bends her middle finger.

Thighs shaking, you can’t help but gasp. The noise echoes throughout the stairwell, and you slap your hand against your mouth to hold back the noises. You struggle to catch your breath, eyes rolling back into your head as Yelena moves her fingers in and out. Her pace is still so slow that you’re muffling audible, and every time she presses that one spot your vision goes black.

Biting your lip doesn’t work, so you shove your knuckles in your mouth to bite them instead. It muffles the sounds of your ragged breathing and suppressed moans more effectively, though they’re still much more audible than you intend for them to be.

Thankfully, Yelena doesn’t withhold anything from you despite how loud you’re being. The pace of her fingers speeds up inside of you, and with every stroke it leaves you squirming and twisting beneath her. Her tongue never stops its soft ministrations against your clit, and the combined stimulation brings back that dangerous feeling inside of you ten times the force of what it was before.

Your feet twitch again, and one foot involuntarily kicks outward, then comes back to thud against her back. You gasp again, this time in horror, and think of the hard soles of your boots and what that must feel like for her. Your eyes fly open, and you scramble to push Yelena down off of you.

“Did I hurt you?” you mumble, louder than you meant to. You inhale shakily before biting back down on your knuckles.

“No. Shh,” Yelena hisses. She barely lifts her head from between your thighs, but looks up at you intently, “I told you to be quiet.” Her fingers twitch inside of you.

A moan escapes you, and you bite down hard when you can’t hold it back. Yelena glares at you, demanding an explanation.

You nod hastily. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, desperately trying to quiet yourself. You can’t offer an excuse. Your fingers burn where your teeth dig into them, but you’re so close that you would rather be left with teeth marks than be denied release at this point.

Instead of giving you a response, Yelena dives back in between your legs. Her fingers slide in at a new angle -- though she is careful not to lose track of your g-spot, and her fingertips rub at it relentlessly. You’re humiliated at the wet noises her fingers draw out from you, and at the slurping noises from her mouth that you know she’s exaggerating just to fluster you.

She can tell that you’re close when your thighs start to tremble once again, and she responds in kind. Her fingers speed up inside you, and the pressure inside of you builds towards a peak. Her tongue rolls across your clit deftly and with a precision that makes your back arch into the air. Your hands dig into the stone staircase as you try to ground yourself.

Yelena’s fingertips twitch inside of you again, and finally, you feel your body tense up until it snaps like a rubber band. You come hard around her fingers with your thighs quaking. More wetness gushes out of you, and you don’t stop shaking for as long as her tongue and fingers wring out the last spasms from your body.

After several long moments, once your breathing has become more regular, Yelena’s fingers slip out. You moan softly into your knuckles and relax your jaw. Your hand aches where your teeth left angry red marks, and your cunt aches from the withdrawal of her fingers. Thankfully, her tongue continues moving against you. Your hips twitch a few more times as she licks you, and you gasp as she laps up the majority of your wetness.

She lifts her head, and your head drops backward while you sigh. Yelena’s usual smile stretches wider than usual. A chuckle rumbles in her throat, and she brings her still-glistening fingers to her mouth to lick the moisture from them. Your cheeks burn, and you avert your eyes. Your body reacts to the gesture, despite your embarrassment.

Yelena ducks down between your thighs, and you lift them to help her get free. Your legs land off to the side, and when you manage to sit up, you try your best to pull your pants back up your legs. You get them up about halfway before you notice Yelena is staring at you.

You look up at her, and goosebumps travel down your spine when you see the look on her face. She casually wipes her hand on her shirt before leaning down to pick up her jacket and drape it over her arm.

“You did good,” she says finally. Her words come as a surprise to you, and to your shame, your blush darkens.

“Thanks,” you stammer, and you go back to trying to pull up your pants. The straps make it difficult, but when you yank hard enough, the fabric slides up your skin. You don’t bother to adjust your underwear to be comfortable, and just fasten the buckle.

Yelena leans down to pick up your belt, and hands it to you. “I mean it. Where can I find you tonight?” she says, arm outstretched.

You take the belt from her, and shakily run it through the loops as you speak. “How about the storage closet on the third floor? The one by the empty classrooms.”

“I’ll be there. Tell me what time.” Yelena leans back to rest against the wall, and tilts her head at you inquisitively.

You smile, and your breath catches in your throat. “Let’s meet at midnight,” you tell her.

“Midnight. Got it.” Her eyes practically sparkle, and she nods. Biting her lip, she climbs a step on the staircase to be closer to you. You look up at her to find her closer than you thought she was. Before you know it, her hands are on your waist pulling you closer.

You want it just as badly as she does, and you’re pretty sure you’re the one who actually initiates the kiss this time. Yelena stays like that for a moment, and in the back of your mind it occurs to you that this is the longest she’s stayed with you after she’s touched you. You allow yourself to get lost in her and the way she makes you feel for a fleeting and wistful moment.

As always, it comes to an end. It’s always the same abrupt and disheartening end every time she finally pulls away from that last kiss. The mania in her expression calms for a moment, and something flickers behind her eyes. Yelena tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and lays her hand on your shoulder. She straightens your collar, but her hand lingers for too long for that to be why she touched you.

Then, as quickly as she drew you into the stairwell, Yelena bounds past you up the staircase two steps at a time. She steps over your discarded jacket and gun, and only looks back when she nears the top of the steps.

She shoots you one last provocative look before she disappears out of sight.

As always, you’re left alone fixing your rumpled clothing. You do your best to make yourself look presentable, and shake out your hair in a (likely unsuccessful) attempt to collect yourself. You sit on the steps for a moment to gather your bearings.

You have learned that with Yelena to expect the unexpected. Yet somehow, every time you’re still left with a dark thrill after every encounter the two of your have, and every time you fuck her, you’re reminded of how unprepared you were for what you would be getting yourself into the first time you saw her. Even the night on the beach you couldn’t have predicted the way she would make you feel, or the things she would make you feel.

You put on your jacket, and shake your head as if that will clear the thoughts from your brain. With a sigh and a slight readjustment of your belt, you contemplate what the hell you’re doing to do from now until midnight.

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